#this took AGES but I needed to get all my thoughts out

[everythingspokenfor]

All characters are aged up 18+ MDNI

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Bakugou doesn't care that you are making a mess on his pants, couldn't care any less about the messy white streaks you are leaving behind on the zipper of the navy suit.

Both of you knew at the end of the gala, you would be here, Bakugou buried inches deep in you while you clawed his back because your guts were being rearranged.

But you didn't expect that to be here, in Kirishima's office.

The event was cut unexpectedly short, as Bakugou dragged you to a spare room that also happened to be Kirishima's office.

You have already cum twice, cunt spasming around Bakugou's cock, as you look up at him, silently begging to slow down.

"s..sl..slow down..please..I came..just came.." you whimpered in his ear, praying he would listen and have mercy on you gooey cunt.

The thrusts stopped and he settled deep in you. The tip of his cock squished against your cervix, the both your cream collecting at the base of his cock. For a moment, you thought he was going to show you mercy, gonna spare your tight cunt and go easy on you.

But the glimmer in his eyes and the slight smirk on his face told you otherwise, he was going to be mean tonight. Bakugou pulled out of you, cock glistening with your cum, tip a deep red colour pressing against your swollen pussy.

Bakugou smeared his precum on your hard little clit, before fully pulling away, a thin string of slick connecting you both before it breaks.

Bakugou backs up to take a closer look at your state, you are a mess, skirt hiked up at your waist, gooey little pussy on display, breasts spilling from the top of your shirt. The site of your nipples almost peeking from the neckline making his dick throb. He turns you around, hand gentle as he guides you to lean against the wall.

"I'll go easy on ya' jus' wanna make sure the pussy is happy you know", He said while aligning his tip with your drippy hole.

Pushing in with a single thrust, giving you a moment to get used to his thick cock stretching your gummy walls again, his hand reached around you rub on your clit.

A weak whimper left your throat when he hissed,"Loosen up will ya' cunt is gripping me too tight, need ya to let my dick breath babe". He rubbed tight little circles on your clit and started thrusting. Making sure to hold your waist so you wouldn't fall.

"m' gonna cum, pl.. please it's there ... Please please" you babbled on, cunt spasming around him, you looked over his shoulder, silently begging him to not stop.

Bakugou's hand sped up and so did his thrusting, he could tell you were close. He felt you tense up as you came around him, pussy gushing as you shuddered and clawed at his arm.

Following you, Bakugou came in your gummy walls with a low grunt, few more thrusts and he relented his movement and pulled out.

"yer dripping, little cunt leaking all over the place" he said while gathering your cummy mixture and smearing it over your clit.

"no..no it's se.. sensitive please", you said as you pulled away his hand.

Bakugou gathered you in his arms and took you to the couch, laying you down he went to the attached bathroom to grab a washcloth and clean the mess between your legs.

He fixed your clothes and covered you with blanket. Before sitting beside you and running his fingers through your here.

He pulled out his phone to check what was going on at the gala only to be greeted with a message.

Shitty hair : Better clean the cum off my couch too Bakubro 😀💪🏼🧽🧼

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[sugarushwriting]

cherry popper

heeseung x reader

getting your cherry popped by popular f-boy, lee heeseung

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

requests are open

tonight, you were on a mission. on a mission to get rid of your virginity! maybe a frat party wasn’t the best place to lose your virginity, but you knew who you wanted to take it.

lee heeseung.

except you didn’t know if he cherry popped girls or wanted them already experienced.

you couldn’t blame him or any guys though if they preferred not to be the one to take a girl’s virginity. there was a bad stigma around girls who had sex for the first time.

they became attached. needed rose petals and slow sex. needed to cuddle afterwards.

well, not you. at your age, you just wanted it out of the way. the term “virginity” was stupid anyway.

you’ve heard the good things about lee heeseung when it comes to his bed activities. so why not lose your virginity to a guy who was 99% sure to make you come your first time?

there’s nothing more depressing than having your first time be with a guy who is terrible in bed.

your friend knocked on your forehead with a laugh. “you okay?”

you nodded with a smile. “still on the hunt.”

“he’ll be here any minute. just remember, don’t pounce on him. you have to seem mysterious. he’s never seen you here before, so just seem uninterested. he’ll come to you.”

“got it!” you nodded and took a small sip of your cup. you didn’t want to be drunk or even tipsy, but just wanted enough to calm your nerves.

you’ve heard how alcohol ruins some people’s sex drives. even heard the term, ‘whiskey dick,’ so you’re hoping heeseung doesn’t suffer from that.

forty minutes passed, and you still hadn’t seen heeseung, giving up to even look for him. you sighed and looked at your friend.

“i’m going to the bathroom.”

“need me?”

you shook your head. “i’ll be fine.”

you made your way up the stairs, following your friends directions to the bathroom upstairs. your pink miniskirt for sure was covering nothing of your behind, but your friend convinced you to show more skin than usual. your baby tee was tight and short, perfectly flaunting your chest.

once you finished in the bathroom, you quickly gave yourself a once over look in the mirror and opened the door, only to run into a tall figure.

well if that wasn’t perfect timing and a coincidence by the universe.

“hmp, sorry!” you huffed out looking up to eye heeseung.

“no worries baby. haven’t seen you around here before?” he smiled.

oh damn he was a smooth talker.

“oh yeah—first party, with, um, my friend.” you stuttered out.

there was no need for you to pretend to be all shy around him. his aura made you shy. you still had to force yourself to not outright ask, ‘hey heeseung, can you take my virginity?’

all heeseung was doing was smiling at you and you felt intimated. how the fuck were you gonna get this man in bed?

heeseung proved to be easy.

his eyes flipped from your eyes to your lips, back to your eyes, suddenly wanting a taste of the girl who’s never been to a party before. who he has never seen before.

his thumb traced your bottom lip, his own bottom lip being caught between his teeth. “i saw you downstairs with your friend, and thought to myself, ‘damn she’s hot as fuck.’” heeseung whispered out to you.

“re—really?” you asked surprised.

how long has he been here? eyeing you? why hadn’t you seen him walk in?

he nodded, “i knew i had to have you.” he said leaning down to kiss your lips with a peck, leaving you wanting more.

yeah, he wanted you for sure because yes, you were cute, but also, fresh-meat at this party. he couldn’t let his friends get to the cute new girl first.

from observation, he could tell you were the shy type, and he was allured even more by you because of that.

the peck left you wanting more. his lips were just so soft. you’ve kissed boys before, but his lips were the softest.

“mhm, wanna make out?”

“are you twelve?” you teased at the way he asked you.

heeseung chuckled. “just trying to be polite.”

you nodded. he grabbed your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. heeseung pulled you to a bedroom at the end of the hall.

surprisingly the room was clean and neat. you’ve seen the horror pictures and movies and videos of frat houses.

your friend had told you, the upstairs was completely off limits and they reinforced it. but if you had to use the bathroom (the clean one) sneak upstairs. she had distracted the guy blocking the stairs.

you stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, after heeseung let go of your hand, walking towards the bed.

he smirked. “no need to be shy.” he patted his lap. “you can come sit.”

he wants you to sit on his lap?

you slowly walked towards him, slowly resting on his lap. your knees on either side of his hips. his own hands went to rest on your hips.

bringing your lips down to meet his, you both started making out like a bunch of horny teens. heeseung took it slow with you at first, before his kisses became more desperate and longing. wanting more from you.

his hands squeezed your hips, catching you off guard, and he took the opportunity to poke his tongue in your mouth.

your hands wrapped around his neck, your lower half beginning to feel a bit wet. heeseungs own lower half was starting to get hard, you able to feel him through his jeans and your short skirt.

you rubbed your lower half against him, heeseung letting out a low gritted moan. “keeping doing that and i will come in my pants.” he gripped your ass from under your skirt.

you smiled against his kisses. “again, what are you? a teenage boy?”

heeseung actually loved the teasing. he squeezed your hips tighter, tickling lightly, causing you to squeal.

he flipped you on your back on the bed so he was hovering over you. his lips never leaving yours, he lifted your skirt up more, pulling your underwear to the side.

his middle finger rubbed circles around your clit and the hole of your cunt, teasing you to get you worked up, slick, and ready for him.

his finger teased at your entrance, he could feel the tightness of you.

although you’ve pleasured yourself a few times, your fingers were in no comparison to heeseung.

heeseungs finger slowly entered you, his lips still not leaving their spot from you, and as he slowly inched deeper, you whined into his mouth at the feeling.

slight sting but feeling good. heeseung slowly added another finger and began pumping his fingers in and out of you, his lips moving to suck on a sweet spot on your neck.

an odd sensation came, you riding heeseungs fingers, feeling your stomach feel tight, your cunt becoming needier.

“ride my fingers, there you go.” heeseung said to you.

you bit your lower lip and an over pleasuring sensation came over you.

did you just come? you thought it’d be more intense than that.

you felt good, and when he went to rub his fingers against your clit, you did feel over sensitive.

you didn’t realize heeseung had left a hickey on your neck.

heeseung removed his fingers from you, standing up to unbutton his belt and pants pulling them and his boxers down.

leaning on your elbows, your eyes widened at his length. aw shit.

heeseung pumped his own length a few times, “mhm, open your mouth.”

“can you be a little nicer?” you asked with a smile.

“please open your mouth?”

you nodded and scooted towards the end of the bed where you sat comfortably while heeseung stood.

you licked his tip, swirling your tongue around the head before slowly taking just the head in between your lips giving it a suck.

“please don’t tease.” heeseung sighed. your mouth just felt too good.

you smiled with his dick in your mouth, opening a bit wider to take his length in as much as you could. your hand stimulating whatever was left over and his balls.

you did have a gag reflex, and you weren’t about to test it now.

“fuck, so good. please come to these parties more often.” heeseung sighed out as your head pumped back and forth against him.

you sucked, your tongue swirling against the underside, your hand putting small pressure on his balls, squeezing just right for him.

heeseungs hand went to the back of your head, and when he pushed a bit for more than you could take, you choked, your gag reflex kicking in.

you pulled away, needing to breathe, a line of your spit between his tip and your lips.

“fuck that was hot. i love a girl with a gag reflex honestly.” heeseung moaned. he took your jaw back in between his hands, his thumb tapping your lower lip to open.

you followed, and he stuffed his dick back into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat, you gagging once again.

heeseung had to control himself to not lose control and just fuck your face.

as you bobbed your head, heeseung also moved his hips back and forth. “mhm, mouth feels so good, i’m gonna come.”

you used your hand to help stimulate what your mouth couldn’t. heeseungs moans became lower and more messy.

“fuck, can i come in your mouth?”

you nodded, and that’s all he needed before hot spurts of his come entered your throat. heeseung let out strings of curse words in pleasure.

“fuck that was hot.” he mumbled, catching his breath.

with your skirt still flipped up, heeseung undressed your lower half completely, and he finished taking off his clothing, grabbing a condom from the pocket of his jeans.

most girls would probably be like, ‘return the favor!’ but if you came one more time without his dick, you wouldn’t have the stanima to go a third round on his dick. tonight, you were okay with giving a blowjob and not getting your pussy ate.

heeseung kissed you, tasting himself, biting your lower lip, all while slipping on the condom.

you hadn’t realized how fast and skilled he was until you felt his head prodding your hole.

“oh fuck!” you whispered. your eyes squeezed shut, one hand gripping his shoulder, the other the bed covers.

“mhm so tight, like no one’s ever fucked this pussy.” heeseung mumbled out.

he slowly eased into you, feeling the warmth and resistance but thought nothing much of it. heeseung thought maybe you just hadn’t been with a guy of his size.

you bit down on your lower lip, the stinging sensation back, you fighting off the feeling of the pain trying to focus on the pleasure.

breathing deeply through your nose, you tried your best to relax, heeseungs eyebrows knitted in confusion and focus.

he slowly moved his length back and forth, feeling your hand tighten on his shoulder.

that’s when it hit him. the tightness and resistance. your eyebrows knitted, eyes closed. your hand having a death grip on him and the bed.

“are you fucking serious?” he said out loud, taking you off guard, you opened your eyes, “are you a virgin?” he narrowed his eyes at you.

a tear dropped down your cheek, you sniffling your nose. “please don’t be mad.” you sighed out a little sob.

heeseung shook his head. “it’s not that im mad, im just—i don’t know.”

regardless, heeseung didn’t pull out, but he didn’t move further. he stayed still inside of you.

you sniffled again. “it’s just—i—i was tired of being a virgin, and i heard about your reputation of being with a lot of girls and being able to please them. i didn’t want my first time to suck, and i debated on telling you, but i didn’t know if you were the type to get an ick when it came to virgins!”

heeseung lowered his head in shame. he couldn’t believe someone who sucked dick so good was a virgin.

“you suck dick too good for a virgin.” he said then raised his eyebrow at you.

you smiled shyly, “i uh, never did that either.”

“fuck! what have you done that i wasn’t your first?”

“i’ve used my own fingers, but of course that doesn’t compare to yours. and yes, i have kissed others before.”

heeseung sighed, “this is bad,”

before he could finish you cut him off, “no! it doesn’t have to be okay? i promise i won’t get attached, i am not expecting anything from you after this okay? i don’t need roses or cuddles either. i know what i’m getting myself into, heeseung.”

“you know my name, but i don’t even know yours. can i at least have the name of the girl’s virginity i took?”

you told him your name. “i’m really sorry, i didn’t mean to undermine you.”

heeseung laughed, “yes you did and it’s honestly okay and kind of refreshing. usually im the one undermining girls.”

all while this conversation went on, heeseung was still hard and sat still in you.

“i’m surprised you’re still hard.”

“my dick is in a tight pussy. a virgin pussy. must have a virginity or corruption kink, i guess.”

“i’m okay. can we please continue, heeseung?”

heeseung nodded slowly. “only if i can be the first one to eat that pussy too.”

you chuckled, “as you wish.”

heeseung began to move, his pace slow. he finished bottoming out, a loud moan leaving your lips, but you tapped his shoulder with two fingers, to let him know to keep going.

heeseung pulled out to his tip, before he bottomed out once again. although you were a virgin, he wasn’t going to be too gentle with you, and you were okay with that.

after a few thrusts it began to feel better. “mhm, feels better heeseung.” you groaned, your head resting to the side.

you wrapped your legs around heeseung, locking him in, your hand resting on his cheek, bringing him down for a kiss.

“can’t believe you let me fuck this pussy first. chose me.” heeseung moaned. “so happy you let me fuck you first. going to ruin you for anyone else. not going to want anyone’s cock but mine.”

heeseung began his spew of dirty talk, which just made you wetter by each statement.

who knew dirty talk would turn you on so much.

“looks like my cherry likes dirty talk.” heeseung laughed as his pace sped up just a bit.

heeseung sat up on his knees, taking you at a different angle so he could reach deeper, and closer to your cervix.

you looked down, able to see the outline of him inside of you. you moaned at the sight.

“look at you. taking me so well. so tiny underneath me. too big for you baby.”

heeseung slightly put pressure on your lower stomach, your legs wrapping tighter, as you lifted your hips.

“gonna make you come on your first cock, cherry.”

“please make me come, hee.” you begged, your mind going blank, your vision blurry with tears of pleasure.

spews of groans, moans, random words leaving your mouth, mixed with heeseungs name.

oh yes, this was the intense orgasm people talked about. what your friends talked about, and gloated about.

heeseungs finger went to rub circles on your clit, adding pressure which tipped you over the edge.

his dick thrusting in and out. the angle of his dick hitting somewhere within you so good. his thumb on your clit. his palm pressing down on your stomach. his dirty talk and praises.

you were overwhelmed with pleasure. and in no time, with one last scream and cry, heeseungs name leaving your lips, you came around his dick.

heeseung helped you ride out your orgasm while he reached his, stilling inside you, emptying into the condom.

heeseung collapsed above you, nose to nose, and he gave you a peck on your lips, then moved his face to the crook of your neck, leaving a kiss there.

he pulled out, your lower half fluttering at the loss of him, both of you moaning from loss of each other.

heeseung rolled on his back, and took off the condom, noting a little blood. when he looked down, no blood was on him, but he was worried about you.

he looked over to you, no blood on the sheets.

“what?” you asked sitting up, feeling a bit of an ache already settling in.

“let’s get you to the bathroom. there was a bit of blood on the condom.”

your face felt hot in embarrassment. “i’m sorry.” you mumbled.

heeseung kissed your forehead. “no need to be embarrassed. it’s normal and it happens.”

heeseung got up and you followed him to the bathroom.

you made sure to empty your bladder, just tiny spotting. you groaned. “i can’t ruin my underwear.” you sighed. this was so embarrassing.

heeseung opened the cabinet, you looked over seeing pads and liners. looking back at him with a glaring expression.

“this is jays bathroom. he’s a romantic, always making sure whatever girl he’s with at the time is covered.” heeseung explained, scratching the back of his head.

“maybe i should have had jay take my virginity then.” you joked.

heeseung didn’t laugh. “absolutely not. you’re off limits to him and any of my friends now.”

crossing your arms, you stared into his eyes, “now who’s the clingy one after taking someone’s virginity?”

“get used to it cherry.”

“cherry?”

“yeah, cause i popped your cherry.”

you pushed his shoulder. “you are so—!”

“sexy? handsome? amazing in bed? i know.”

you both laughed easing any tension or doubts between one another.

heeseung left you to finish your business in the bathroom and get dressed, as he got back dressed in the bedroom.

you felt guilty allowing him to take your virginity—have sex—in his friend’s bed.

when you came out the bathroom you said, “should we offer to wash his bed sheets?”

“don’t worry, he’ll make me wash his sheets, cleanse his room, perform an exorcism.”

you both chuckled opening the door, jay leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed, not a happy smile.

“i lock my door for a reason! you’re damn right you’ll be washing my bedding AND performing that exorcism.”

poor jay.

[clockwayswrites]

The Birdritch's Nest part 25

masterpost

“That is a lot of plants,” Jason said. He swept his eyes over the space as he slipped his lock picks back into their little pouch.

“He has a botanist friend, apparently, and she keeps giving him plants,” Dick explained as he squeezed past Jason and into the apartment.

“Why are you here again?”

“Because I have a car which is better to carry all of Danny’s stuff in than your bike,” Dick explained. He went over to the wall of plants in front of the windowed corner and squinted down at something on his phone.

Jason pulled out his own phone to glance at what Tim had sent. “You say ‘all Danny’s stuff’ like the list was long. The guy hasn’t exactly been demanding.”

“The ‘guy’ expects to actually go home in a few days,” Dick pointed out.

“And is an adult and so can, you know, actually go home,” Jason retorted.

“Damian’s attached.”

“…I concede to your point,” Jason said once that thought sunk in. “Double the clothing asked for?”

“Basically. Make sure that he has a weeks worth, Alfred can always do laundry,” Dick said before letting out a little noise of triumph and doing something over by the plants. “There, watering system turned on.”

“Congratulations, you’re a genius,” Jason drawled. “Now go get his medication gathered up and snoop a little while you’re at it.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to be snooping,” Dick, words a teasing sing-song as he passed by.

Jason flicked him off. “Like you wouldn’t anyways. I just want to know what you find.”

“Only if you tell me what you find in the bedroom.”

“Deal.”

The bedroom was almost startlingly normal after the plant filled living main room. It didn’t look like Danny really spent much time in it beyond sleeping. The bed was absentmindedly fixed, a black down comforter over pale blue sheets. There was a paperback on the nightstand next to a lamp and a pocket sized notebook with a pen clipped onto the bent and battered cover.

It was the first thing that Jason picked up.

The notebook was obviously where Danny made notes when he was already settled in bed. As Jason flipped through the pages there was everything from to-do lists to invention ideas to… a lot of thought about wings. Jason turned the notebook in his hands. That page wasn’t in English. The language felt like it was on the tip of Jason’s tongue but he just couldn’t get it out.

Maybe some sort of dialect?

Jason couldn’t actually read it, but there was enough to piece together from similarities that tugged on his memory. Enough to understand it was about the wings. Something about the process of change? Aging?

“Hey Jay?” Dick interrupted, scattering Jason’s thoughts. “Can you read the label on these bottles? There’s some serious printing issues happening, I can’t even tell what language it’s in.”

The pill bottle felt oddly cold in Jason’s hand when he took it from Dick, but maybe the bathroom just had shit heating in this place. It would be just like Gotham builders to mess that up.

“Oh, that’s the same thing Danny is writing in here,” Jason said passing the notebook to Dick. “It’s something about wings and getting old, I think, but I can’t really read it.”

“Read it? I don’t even know what it is. Gives me a headache just to look at it,” Dick grumbled as he flipped through the notebook. “The whole bird thing has really been on his mind, hasn’t it?”

Jason gave a little huff. “Do you blame him? The guy has wings now. It would be on my mind too.”

“Yeah… guess I really can’t,” Dick said and snapped a picture of the page with the unknown writing to send to the group chat. “Any idea what it is?”

“Nope. It’s like it’s a distant dialect or that it uses some of the same alphabet of something I learned some of once. Like how Chinese and Japanese use some of the same characters, you know?” Jason explained as he opened the side table drawer and then quickly closed it again. That was more than he needed to know about Danny. “Maybe something from when I was catatonic in the league, who knows. There were a lot of languages in that place.”

“Cass or Damian might now it then,” Dick said as he eyed the drawer Jason had now moved away from.

“Don’t, trust me,” Jason said. “Did you get the medications you needed to grab?”

“Yeah, they’re in the bag. Just a standard bathroom, really. Though he keeps his toothbrush in this old mug with a hero I don’t recognize on it, someone called Phantom.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell, but it sure sounds like a hero name. Add it to the list,” Jason said as he started on gathering up the requested clothing and extra enough to last a week. “Check the closet to see if there are any shits in there that work around wings.”

Jason rolled his eyes as Dick threw the closet doors open dramatically and focused on his task. Jeans, sweatpants, underwear, what he guessed was pajamas were all added to the bag.

“So, nothing that looks like it was made for wings,” Dick said and tossed some normal shirts and a few sweaters into the bag. Jason sighed and folded them neatly. “Maybe he hasn’t had time to find any yet? It hasn’t been that long since the bird thing and seems it all started there. Or maybe he’s just always home when he’s had then?”

“Better let Alfred know then. He’ll want to get something as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, good point,” Dick agreed.

While Dick stepped out of the bedroom to call Alfred, Jason took the time to double check the list. It really was pretty basic. Jason didn’t know if Danny was just trying to not be demanding or if the guy didn’t need much, but Jason went ahead and put the bedside paperback and notebook in the bad too. Jason slung the duffel bag Dick had brought over his shoulder (he totally could have ridden his bike like this) and took a little bit of time to snoop through Danny’s bookcase while Dick finished the call. Sci-fi, horror, old text books, and a ton of notebooks filled the shelf with knickknacks and a few figures. Jason at least had to give Danny points for having some of the sci-fi classics, even if the range of works was pretty limited.

“Okay, Alfred is on it,” Dick said. “Anything else we need to do?”

“Nah, I think we’re good,” Jason said. Something made him not want to look through the notebooks, like they had already done enough snooping. It was an odd feeling. “Let’s get going, I’m hungry for whatever dinner is.”

“You’re always hungry,” Dick said.

Jason shrugged rather than dealing with how true that statement was. “I’m a growing boy.”

“You’re a trash pit.”

“Yeah, you want to go there, cereal boy?”

“Leave my cereal out of it!”

---

AN: I do love writing Dick & Jason so much. Can you tell I have an older brother? Also sorry for the mistakes I'm sure are abounding. Guess who turns out to be anemic? This critter! Maybe getting that fixed will help...

[elodieunderglass]

Having dug out the Unfinished Tales to reference a conversation Tolkien wrote between Gandalf and Pippin (but didn’t publish) I thought I’d share it. Gandalf is talking to Pippin about the history of Thorin’s company, hobbits and why he chose Bilbo.

This is evidence for the grand statement I just made about how Bilbo was intended to be a catalyst that changed his society, and that hobbit society was indeed significantly different after his journey, with large social changes occurring between The Hobbit and Fellowship. But it’s also a very funny passage to me so here it is:

‘And then there was the Shire-folk. I began to have a warm place in my heart for them in the Long Winter, which none of you can remember.

They were very hard put to it then: one of the worst pinches they have been in, dying of cold, and starving in the dreadful dearth that followed. But that was the time to see their courage, and their pity one for another. It was by their pity as much as by their tough uncomplaining courage that they survived. I wanted them still to survive.

(😭😭😭😭. Also the theme of having pity for each other is what redeems both Bilbo and Frodo re: Gollum.)

But I saw that the Westlands were in for another very bad time again, sooner or later, though of quite a different sort: pitiless war.

(This is possibly one reason why this passage didn’t make it to publication - Gandalf shouldn’t have had this much foreknowledge of the upcoming war of the ring.)

To come through that I thought they would need something more than they now had. It is not easy to say what. Well, they would want to know a bit more, understand a bit clearer what it was all about, and where they stood.

(It’s also explaining that Bilbo’s role in Thorin’s company was predetermined both by a more omnipotent Gandalf and by Fate; that Gandalf selected Bilbo to be a social catalyst, to return and provoke hobbit society into a more adaptable, resilient state; therefore increasing their chances of surviving.)

They had begun to forget: forget their own beginnings and legends, forget what little they had known about the greatness of the world. It was not yet gone, but it was getting buried: the memory of the high and the perilous. But you cannot teach that sort of thing to a whole people quickly. There was not time.

(Thus Bilbo was supposed to be changed, and return changed by his journey, to teach his people.)

And anyway you must begin at some point, with some one person. I dare say he was “chosen” and I was only chosen to choose him; but I picked out Bilbo.’

‘Now that is just what I want to know,’ said Peregrin. ‘Why did you do that?’

‘How would you select any one Hobbit for such a purpose?’ said Gandalf. ‘I had not time to sort them all out;

(He is SO funny)

but I knew the Shire very well by that time, although when I met Thorin I had been away for more than twenty years on less pleasant business. So naturally thinking over the Hobbits that I knew, I said to myself: “I want a dash of the Took” (but not too much, Master Peregrin)

(This is brilliant we are always BODYING pippin constantly. NOT TOO MUCH TOOK 👀. We were ROBBED not having this in canon )

“and I want a good foundation of the stolider sort, a Baggins perhaps.” That pointed at once to Bilbo.

(Eugenics! Observing them like laboratory mouse lines! Call him a Charles River BILB/o the way you’re genotyping these poor little bastards for your purposes)

And I had known him once very well, almost up to his coming of age, better than he knew me.

(??? Hiding in the bushes spying or…?)

I liked him then. And now I found that he was “unattached” – to jump on again, for of course I did not know all this until I went back to the Shire. I learned that he had never married. I thought that odd, though I guessed why it was; and the reason that I guessed was not the one that most of the Hobbits gave me: that he had early been left very well off and his own master.

(Was it cos he’s gay as fuck, Gandalf)

No, I guessed that he wanted to remain “unattached” for some reason deep down which he did not understand himself – or would not acknowledge, for it alarmed him.

(I 100% now and for always love a narrator in a constant state of Just Fucking Lies To Everyone All The Time, Giving Us Nothing, Acknowledging Nothing Including Himself. NOPE NOT PROCESSING ANYTHING TODAY THANKS. WE’RE CLOSED. COME BACK TOMORROW. just A Massive Liar about everything and for what!!! Bilbo Baggins my beloved you were born wrong.)

He wanted, all the same, to be free to go when the chance came, or he had made up his courage. I remembered how he used to pester me with questions when he was a youngster about the Hobbits that had occasionally “gone off ”, as they said in the Shire. There were at least two of his uncles on the Took side that had done so.’

You can see why I love this! And I can see why Tolkien didn’t include it, too. Still very fun passage and near enough to canon to be used if you ever want to.

[mvrkieboo]

Old Bloodhounds

P51 | jeong y/n

"Thank you for this, Park. I appreciate it." Taeyong spoke tiredly into the phone, and he could hear Chanyeol laugh on the other line.

"Kid, you've worked with me for nearly a year now, ease up a bit and just call me Chanyeol. Here, the name at the top of the list, Kim Soyeon, owns a café in Sinchon. Says here it's supposed to close in another hour. Hey, I'll give you the rest of the info through text—just get going already, Yongie." Chanyeol's voice took a sober turn, understanding the current mood. It was also Chanyeol who ended the call right after.

Kyungsoo had texted him you were currently undergoing emergency surgery, and you were probably getting out of it the next morning considering the stab wound punctured your lung and broke through your ribs. The paramedic also found that there was a nasty gash at the back of your head, a possible concussion...or worse. Taeyong cringed when he read the details of your injuries, but he shook his head.

You were going to make it out alive, he was sure of it. From what he had gathered from Kyungsoo about who you were as a person, you were strong, and you'd been good in keeping your promise to them to hold on—so Taeyong had a lot of trust in you that you'd keep that promise 'til the end.

Nobody on the list was picking up his calls, it's why he asked for Chanyeol's assistance in gathering more info regarding the people on your list. When Chanyeol's text came through, Taeyong focused on the address of Kim Soyeon's café.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When Taeyong parked the car, that's when he noticed the bloodstains you had left on his jacket and shirt. His jacket was already black, so it didn't really show, but his button-up shirt under the jacket was light blue—now partly red, soaked in your blood. He took out his wet tissue packet and cleaned his jacket before zipping it all the way up. Glancing at his cleaned up watch, it was currently 8:21 p.m. He got out of the car with a heavy feeling lingering in his chest.

As he got to the café's front entrance, your note in his hands, he noticed that the sign on the front entrance said 'CLOSED' and another note below said 'PRIVATE EVENT'. Since the café had large window panes all over, he could see there was a private celebration inside, and there were mostly young adult attendees. He knocked on the glass door, and a kind looking middle aged woman opened the door, not exiting fully.

"Good evening. I'm sorry, but the café is closed to the public for now—"

Taeyong shook his head awkwardly and took out his badge, showing it to her.

"My name is Lee Taeyong, and I'm a detective from Gangnam's Police Force. Ma'am, do you happen to be Kim Soyeon?" This wouldn't be the first time he had to do a house visit to inform a victim's family, but it never got easier.

And it never will.

Soyeon paused, before exiting the café completely and closed the door behind her. Nobody noticed the exchange happening, too caught up in their own conversations.

At first, Soyeon thought he was here to inform about her ex-husband—maybe found dead from alcohol poisoning somewhere in Gangnam, or he was arrested and needed someone to bail him out. So that was the first thing she asked.

"Is this about my ex-husband?" Soyeon pursed her lips a little, hugging herself in the cold autumn night.

"No, ma'am, it's regarding...it's Jeong Y/N. I understand that— based on this note she gave me—you're close with her?" Taeyong felt like he was speaking with a mouth filled with molasses. His tongue felt heavy, and even his lips too.

He showed the note to Kim Soyeon, suddenly finding himself tongue-tied. When she read the contents of the note, her hands began to shake as her grip on the note tightened, crumpling the paper.

"...she's like a daughter to me. Did something happen to her?" She spoke in a near whispery tone, and Taeyong almost didn't hear her.

When Soyeon clarified her relationship with you, calling you a daughter figure to her, Taeyong's heart broke into two as he felt shame creeping up his body. He moved to kneel before her, making her shriek, because she knew that a detective wouldn't kneel to a random civilian unless something really bad actually happened to you.

Everyone else in the café froze in silence when they heard her shriek and turned to the glass doors of the front entrance, seeing an unknown man kneeling in front of Soyeon. Geonwoo marched up to the front entrance, opening the glass doors immediately, worried for his mother. Woojin was just right behind him.

"Mom, what's going—"

She bent down, hands on Taeyong's shoulders as she pulled on his jacket, and as his jacket rode up, his bloodstained shirt under peaked through, gaining Woojin's attention at just how soaked in blood it was. The note dropped on the pavement near Taeyong's knees.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO HER? WHERE'S Y/N! TELL ME!" Soyeon yelled loudly, pulling the attention of the people inside and outside of the café.

Yuno and his father, upon hearing your name, quickly went to the front entrance too, wondering why Soyeon was shrieking out your name like a mad woman.

Geonwoo held his mother, confused with what she was talking about. Yuno noticed there was a written note near Taeyong's knees and bent down to pick up, freezing when he recognized the writing.

"Jeong Y/N was found beaten and stabbed multiple times near downtown Seoul—and is currently receiving emergency surgery at TaeHo Memorial Hospital. I'll explain everything once we get to the hospital, ma'am. My partner is there waiting for Y/N to get out of surgery."

Mark who was huddled up near the entrance with the rest of the attendees—wedged between Haechan and Yuta—dropped his drink to the floor, glass shattering on the tiles.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Yangyang truly didn't give a fuck. His name was also on the list, along with Xiaojun's and Aeri's, so they should be allowed to go to the hospital too. Aeri was crying in the passenger seat with Xiaojun sitting still in the back, looking like he was in shock. Yangyang pressed on the gas pedal when Geonwoo's Ford truck in front of him was beginning to get farther away from his McLaren.

Right in front of Geonwoo's truck was the detective's car, revolving light shining red and alarm ringing out loud in the night. Mark rode with Geonwoo and Woojin, while Soyeon, Yuno and your dad rode with the detective.

"God, please let Y/N remain among the living. Please, please, please... don't take her away from those who love her so soon..." Yangyang could hear Aeri's incessant prayers, making him slam his hand on the wheel at how heartbreaking it was to hear her pray through choked sobs.

Aeri was never that religious, and him and Xiao didn't even believe in anything at all—but he hoped that Aeri's prayers were heard and granted. In fact, even his heart was praying alongside Aeri.

He really thought they had moved past you now, he really did. At least, he thought he himself did. He remembered feeling nothing but disdain when he saw you at the post mortem meeting a week ago, and he thought that was him forgetting all about you.

But as he prayed in his heart, to a higher power he didn't even personally believe in, he realised he will always care for you no matter what, whether he wanted to or not.

He floored the pedal.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Geonwoo, Woojin and Mark ran to the waiting area, with your friends right behind them too. They came to see your father kneeling in front of a man standing beside Detective Lee, Mr. Jeong's hands pulling on the man's shirt—and they assumed that man was Taeyong's partner, Detective Do Kyungsoo. Geonwoo and Woojin were familiar with his name, albeit a little sparsely, because you had mentioned Detective Do before.

Yuno was bent behind your father, supporting the older man even when he himself was starting to crack, tears streaming down his face.

"How could someone as small as my daughter bleed this much!" Your father wailed, and it made Geonwoo and Woojin stop in their tracks as they fully took in Detective Do.

Kyungsoo had a haunted look across his face as he held your father's hands, and the shirt your father was gripping on was soaked in red. Even the cuffs of his corduroy jacket were bloodstained. Even his hands had dried blood on them. He was so soaked in your blood, they understood exactly what your father was feeling right now.

Pure unadulterated fear.

"Mom..." Geonwoo uttered out, and his mom broke down hearing her son's voice, urging him to go and be with her.

As soon she felt his arms around her, she let out a sob, "She was stabbed twice, it broke through her ribs and punctured her lung. They suspect a concussion too, based on the gash she had at the back of her head."

Yuno began to pull your father up, face suddenly blank of any emotions. It was as if hell froze over for him.

"You never told us who did this to her." Yuno spoke almost emotionlessly—but Mark, who had known him the longest besides your father, could tell he was furious.

Kyungsoo stared at his hands and shirt, feeling like he could never wash your blood off of him. He heard Yuno's question loud and clear, but he was just thinking on where he should start.

Did your fate get sealed the moment Junyoung stepped into the police station and filed a report on Yoonsu was exploiting you? When Junyoung suddenly disappeared right after he graduated? When Yoonsu managed to slip away as they busted down the doors of his establishment?

Or should he start with the fact that this all happened because of him and his old partner being reckless enough to involve a teenage girl in their investigation on a ruthless loanshark like Yoonsu?

"Hyung..." Taeyong spoke softly.

Kyungsoo took out your locket from his jacket's front pocket. He felt his heart drop when he noticed you were wearing this locket as you lied on the stretcher inside the ambulance. He recognized the locket—you had worn it before when you were still Yoonsu's prized girlfriend. This was the bugged locket Yoonsu made you wear.

That fucker was sick in the head.

Mark—of all people, Mark—walked up to Kyungsoo and gripped on the collar of his jacket, shaking the detective, frustrated with his lack of words. Everyone else balked at the sight while Woojin moved quickly to try and hold the younger man back, holding on to his shoulder, but Mark shook Woojin's hand off of him.

"Stop staying quiet, you bastard—tell us who did this to her!" Mark raised his voice.

"Mark!" Woojin yelled, and Taeyong was already trying to wedge himself between them too.

"It was Cha Yoonsu. Beat her up good, then he stabbed her twice before he stabbed himself in the throat...can't arrest a dead guy." Kyungsoo uttered out, voice as monotoned as Yuno's before.

Geonwoo and Woojin froze, while the rest of your friends and family were wondering just who the fuck was Cha Yoonsu? Geonwoo let go of his mother, beyond perplexed with Kyungsoo's answer. Didn't you tell them that Yoonsu was already dead more than a week ago?

"Cha Yoonsu? Didn't you make her come down to Gangnam mortuary a week ago to ID his corpse?" Woojin asked what Geonwoo was thinking, and the detective let out a scoff.

"Gosh, back then he even had me fooled. Held Y/N hostage with that blackmail hanging over her head and made her his puppet." Kyungsoo sighed, messing with his hair as he was reminded of how foolish he had been, thinking that the corpse on the mortuary slab was actually Yoonsu.

"What the fuck are you talking about? Who the fuck is Cha Yoonsu? And what do you mean by blackmail!" Yangyang broke out in anger, frustrated that he wasn't understanding a single thing coming out of anyone's mouth at the moment.

"And where's Junyoung? She had plans with him for tonight." Aeri spoke through hiccups, and Xiaojun wrapped an arm around her shoulders to calm her down once the shock wore off.

Kyungsoo and Taeyong felt like the fog was lifted; these people knew jackshit. No wonder they were fooled by Yoonsu's poor rendition of Junyoung—no wonder you left Taeyong that note. This was what you meant by not wanting to keep them in the dark anymore. They had very little idea on what you actually went through back then.

In fact, it was as if they had very little idea on who Jeong Y/N really was before they met her.

"I need all of you to sit first as I explain to you how everything led up to this. Please, take a seat everyone. I'm now well aware just how little you know about Y/N's past." Kyungsoo sighed.

"We know she was forced to work for a loanshark to clear her late stepfather's debt after our mother abandoned her." Yuno spoke out, and Kyungsoo tilted his head at him.

"Then how come some of you don't know who's Cha Yoonsu?" Taeyong asked sincerely.

"Who is Cha Yoonsu?" Yangyang asked again, still clearly frustrated.

Kyungsoo and Taeyong eyed Geonwoo and Woojin, because out of all of them, the ex MMA athletes were the ones that seemed to be aware of who exactly was Cha Yoonsu.

"Cha Yoonsu was the loanshark she was forced to work for. He had her working as a stripper at his illegal establishment, and also coerced her into a romantic relationship with him while she worked under him. This locket was gifted to her with the promise that he would marry her once her debt was settled." Kyungsoo explained thoroughly who Cha Yoonsu was, and what kind of man he had been, holding up the locket they had seen you wear ever since you introduced them to Junyoung.

Geonwoo and Woojin looked at each other—they didn't know that he had made you his girlfriend at one point while you worked for him. This was something you didn't tell them about your past—something you hid from them.

Everyone felt sick to their stomach, going pale at the realization this all happened when you were still a teenager.

Your father felt his knees going weak and practically dropped himself on the chair, while your brother felt bile coming up his throat imagining his teenager younger sister dating an adult man who obviously wanted to take advantage of you.

"What a disgusting bastard." Mark spoke out quietly, but you could still hear the fury in his voice.

"Lee Junyoung was Y/N's senior at Cheongdaebi High in Gangnam, it's where they met. They eventually became close friends. Junyoung was an illegitimate child of the Lee Media Conglomerate, so he had quite a reputation in Gangnam already. He also had a cousin on his stepmother's side who worked in Gangnam's Police Force Organized Crime Unit—that was my old partner, Kim Junmyeon.

When Junyoung found out Y/N was in an abusive relationship, and her boyfriend also turned out to be the loanshark who was exploiting her, he filed a police report to his cousin. We were already investigating Cha Yoonsu and building a case against him—so when we found out Junyoung's little friend was also Yoonsu's girlfriend, we roped her in. Made her our mole in Yoonsu's workforce." Geonwoo and Woojin bristled, finding it so reckless of them for putting you in a dangerous spot.

It was why Yoonsu was so hellbent in getting his revenge on you. Ignoring the way Geonwoo and Woojin were glaring at him, Kyungsoo continued.

"Yoonsu already kept an eye out on Junyoung because he was close to Y/N, but he was livid when he found out the kid filed a police report against him. Right after Junyoung graduated, he disappeared. Many thought he ran away from his family, but Y/N was convinced Yoonsu did something to him, so she filed a missing person's report for Junyoung.

Once we gathered sufficient evidence through Y/N's help, we busted down the doors of his establishment only for him to slip away after he could confirm it was Y/N that had been our informant—it was the botched operation of the decade." The older detective let out a bitter smile, remembering how harshly his captain had slapped him for letting Yoonsu slip away, and for letting you flee Gangnam.

"So the Junyoung Y/N introduced to us..." Xiaojun asked tentatively, horror written all over his face.

"It had been Cha Yoonsu who had cosmetic procedures done on him to look like Lee Junyoung. Y/N was well aware of who he really was, so she wasn't fooled in any way." Taeyong confirmed, making Xiaojun promptly ask the next question—

"Then why didn't she say something—anything to let us know she was in danger?"

Taeyong gulped, while a haze glazed over Kyungsoo's eyes. They remembered the first time they opened the blackmail file Yoonsu had over you. Pictures and videos—countless of it—of a teenager you in skimpy clothing, dancing upon the pole with slimy men surrounding you, and your face clearly showed that you'd rather be anywhere else but there.

"The fucker had a file filled with pictures and videos of her when she worked as his stripper—he blackmailed her with it. He also hacked her phone and made her wear this locket which—" Kyungsoo paused, holding up the locket again and opening it to show them the contents, "—contains a bug that could pick up on everything Y/N says. She was constantly under his surveillance. She was his hostage. Y/N was trapped. If she says one wrong thing, then those pictures will spread across her faculty, then her whole campus, the nation—anyone would know better than to take Yoonsu's threats lightly, even though he is a disgraced boss now."

"As some of you know," Taeyong began to take over, looking over to Geonwoo and Woojin as he stressed on 'some', "we had Y/N come down to Gangnam mortuary to ID a corpse we believed was Yoonsu's, and she did give us a positive ID—however, just three days after, she reached out to Detective Do through an unknown number and begged us to believe her when she said Yoonsu was still alive...and she was currently living with him.

It was a good thing Detective Do went ahead and sent the corpse to another mortuary that confirmed it wasn't actually Yoonsu's—and that's how we began to investigate this 'Lee Junyoung' Y/N was living with, and got to reopen the case against Cha Yoonsu. We got to hack into his phone and wipe out the blackmail file he had over her, and uncovered the text messages he exchanged with Y/N and—" Taeyong crossed his arms, taking a pause in telling the main points to address something that stuck to him ever since he read the text messages between you and Yoonsu.

"—I just want to let you know it was always in Yoonsu's plan for Y/N to isolate herself from you. Y/N never wanted to make you feel like you didn't matter to her, but he was blackmailing her to do so. Detective Do once told me she's people-centric, and Yoonsu was well aware of that. It was just a way for Yoonsu to put her through psychological torture."

Everyone's heart broke and tore itself apart hearing Taeyong say that.

Yuno dropped his head and covered his face with his hands, rubbing it when he was reminded of the argument he had with you before you moved out, how he had ignored you during your last days in the condo, practically treated you like you were an unappreciated houseplant. Now that he knew you never meant the things you said, but he had meant his every single word and action.

Geonwoo and Woojin were reminded of the last time they texted you through 'the crew' groupchat, and how Woojin had told you 'good riddance' when you confirmed you were moving in with 'Junyoung'.

Yangyang remembered how horribly he treated you, openly ignoring you to get his disdain for you across, the way you clearly looked uncomfortable and sad during the post mortem meeting for how they treated you. Aeri looked back and reminisced about the time you called each other 'soulmates', and how easily she got rid of the memories when she chose to ignore you from the day of the concert.

Xiaojun could never forgive himself for treating you like a distant acquaintance as if he hadn't told you his regrets and secrets that you still kept close to your heart despite the fallout. It was worse than just openly ignoring you—whereas Yangyang and Aeri were at least open with their dislike for you, Xiaojun treated you with indifference. As if he wasn't at all affected with you pulling yourself away from them, like he didn't really care for you at all.

Mark felt like puking when he realised the last time he argued with spoke to you, he had called you a coward. Of all the insults he could use that would at least be generic, surface-level and the least hurtful, he called you a coward. You were getting blackmailed, held hostage, and manipulated by a slimy bastard—and he called you a coward. As if you weren't being the bravest you'd ever been as you faced Yoonsu alone with no one else on your side. As if you haven't always been the bravest among them.

When everyone's reminded of their promise to forget you, it felt like their whole chest was caving in. When they tried to imagine just how alone you had been, how hurt you were to see them push you away, it felt like there were bullets getting lodged inside their chest for every time they yelled, berated, and ignored you.

Seeing everyone go quiet at the realization they had played a part in Yoonsu's plan to psychologically break you, both detectives sighed. Yoonsu intended for this kind of damage. Not only you suffered, but the pain also bled through to everyone else around you, to the people who love and care for you.

"It was just hours ago when we wiped out the file from his phone. Once we did it, we told Y/N to leave their apartment so we could get to arrest him, but she didn't listen. She..." Kyungsoo sighed in the middle, opening his phone and showed the text messages he exchanged with you just hours ago, "...she still followed him to where he was taking her because she still wanted to know what he did to Junyoung—where his body was buried. I know for a fact she had never stopped mourning for him...and it's why she felt responsible for his death. Why she decided to put herself in danger anyway, how she ended up getting beaten up and stabbed by Yoonsu—because that's just who she is. Jeong Y/N. So selfless, it's actually selfish."

That was the actualisation of who you really were. Selfishly selfless. They now know of who Jeong Y/N truly is at her core.

Damn you.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Jeong Y/N." The main surgeon spoke out hoarsely—she had been in that surgical suite for more than 6 hours.

It was in the dead of the night, the large digital clock in the waiting area displayed '03:06 A.M.' in blaring red. Kyungsoo and Taeyong stood up while the rest woke up who had dozed off into light slumber. They couldn't really sleep too deeply, when they're still not sure of your fate in that surgical suite.

When a total of 11 people came to her at the sound of your name, she nearly took a step back. This was a lot of people to be waiting for someone to get out of surgery.

"How is she, Doc?" Kyungsoo asked stiffly, feeling his breath slow as he waited for her to answer.

"She pulled through."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

She's a fighter. One of the stab wounds managed to puncture her right lung, and even broke through her 8th and 9th rib. I managed to fix them up, of course, but with how much blood she was losing, within a rapid rate too, I wasn't all that optimistic that she would even make it—but she did. With the way she held on, she saved herself as much as I saved her.

"God, look at what he did to her face. Oh, my sweet girl—what did he do to you?" Yuno's dad sobbed quietly, caressing his daughter's watercolor blotched cheek, as he wailed over your swollen and split lips, your bandaged nose.

Soyeon sat on the sofa of the VIP room, crying silently as she stared at you. She wished she had done something. She wished she had seen through your attempts in pushing her away. What kind of mother was she? When she couldn't even tell her child was in pain and suffering?

Yuno held your open hand, wishing you were gripping on his back, tears streaming down his face but not making a sound as he cried. It broke his heart—he barely recognized you when he saw you. The bruises on your face were too much. He felt his own face aching just by looking at you. He wanted to beat himself up for ignoring before you moved out. He didn't care for all the hurtful things you said to him anymore, he just wanted to be family again.

He wished he got the chance to beat Cha Yoonsu into a pulp.

May I ask what happened to her abuser? Dead? Good. I know she was found beaten at the crime scene, but the bruises all over her body were new and old. Days and weeks old, even. The most severe one was at her stomach—I had to be careful with cutting her torso open because of how sore it was. He kicked her there pretty good, repeatedly too—but thank god not hard enough it would've done any more damage on her rib cage. However, she still needs to take it easy with any kind of upper body and hip movement during her recovery. The rest of the bruises could go away on their own.

"If that bastard was still alive, I would get my whole soccer team—even the benched kids—to jump him for you. I'm even considering defacing his resting place, because he doesn't deserve to rest peacefully for all that he did to you, Y/N." Yangyang heaved in anger from the opposite side of where Yuno was sitting beside your bed. He blinked away his tears, tasting more bitter and sour than salty—fuck, he was so angry and sad that his tears didn't even taste right.

Aeri was holding on to your other hand, still praying, sounding like a zealot. She had hoped her hand kept yours warm too. If Yoonsu was still alive, she wouldn't be braindead enough to think just beating him half to death could ease her anger. She'd burn him, make him a furnace to keep you warm. She'd do anything to him just for you.

Xiaojun was sitting on a chair beside Yangyang, keeping your hair neat. More often than not, you had always complained that even though you loved how long hair looks on you, you sometimes hated how it would feel. Of course, now that you're still sleeping, he'd keep it neat for you. It was the least he could do for you—because it's not like he had the chance to kill Yoonsu for you. The bastard did the honors himself, it seemed.

She's getting wheeled to the VIP room right now. Heard that someone among you has connections to the one who funds this hospital—and good for her, then. After all that kid has been through, I'm glad she gets to rest in a comfortable room, with plenty of space for all of you to fit—just, don't huddle too closely over her, okay? I know you're all worried for her, but she just got out of surgery, so there's still risks of infection and whatnot.

Geonwoo and Woojin were just right outside, talking with a man decked out in an obviously very expensive casual clothing set. The man seemed fond of the ex MMA athletes, even calling them his younger brothers, and it wasn't at all surprising to see him so fond of them considering he drove to the hospital at 3 a.m. in the morning to see them. The man was Hong Minbeom, and he was the one who pulled the strings to get you the VIP room. He's the one behind the hospital's funding.

"Thanks again, Hyung." Geonwoo sighed, looking at the door.

Minbeom beamed at the both of them.

"It's no biggie, kiddos. Just tell her I wish her a speedy recovery."

Minbeom had met you before. When they held a gala to officiate Taeho Memorial Hospital's opening, Geonwoo brought Taeho's granddaughter as his plus one, and Woojin had brought you as their plus one. The chaebol found you to be a cute kid, a good fit with his two younger brothers. He didn't mind doing a favour for you, considering you were also a victim of a bastard loanshark like he had been a victim of Kim Myeonggil.

Here's the bad news though. Clearly, something very hard hit her head, and then she got stabbed not long after—head injury with rapid blood loss is a bad combo. It's why I consider her a miracle. Because of the head injury, there's no telling when she would wake up. Could be days, weeks or months. All I can say right now is just to stay optimistic. If she pulled through during the surgery, then she can also hold on strong enough for this.

Mark stood behind Yuno, heart tearing itself apart as he wondered when you would wake up. It's hard to look at your face while it's marred with heavy bruises and scratches, but it's gut wrenching to do nothing but watch as you stayed asleep, your eyes closed, your mouth in a thin line. He was praying just as incessantly as Aeri was, but not as loud.

Only God knew just how hard his heart was praying for you to wake up—because he wanted those eyes to open and look at him as he begged for your forgiveness, as he promised to stick by your side no matter what after this. All you had to do was wake up.

prev | masterlist | next

A/N : my fingers are now officially broken!!!!

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

• taglist • [CLOSED]

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[tuttle-did-it]

As a child-free disabled person in their 40s…. Don’t have kids if your main reason is for them to take care of you when you get older.

Also also, it’s not their job. Kids don’t ask to be born. This idea that ‘I took care of you as a baby so you have to take care of me when I’m older’ mindset is absolute shit.

They owe you nothing. They can choose to help you, which is great. But they owe you nothing.

And you don’t have to take care of your parents when they are older. Especially if they are abusive.

You can choose to. Which is great. But you don’t have to stop living your life to take care of them when they chose to have you.

My mother had her sons to take care of from the time she was 16 until she got the youngest one out of the house about 18 years ago. (Long story but I wasn’t raised with her).

She was going to move home to her country once her kids got out. Then her parents fell ill almost immediately after. She put her life on hold again to take care of them.

My mother has taken care of her abusive, cruel parents for over 15 years. Her mother died during one of the Covid spikes.

She’s now stuck looking after her abusive father who has treated her like shit her whole life.

I have seen her age 30 years in the past 15 from the stress. A full time job being the carer of two very difficult, ill people, and working her full time job. She wants to move home to her own country. But she doesn’t feel she can go until he dies. So She is wasting her life— what precious few last years she had with her health still well enough she could do what she wants- retire, travel, volunteer at things she cares about.

Instead she is taking her father to doctors appointments, putting up with his abuse. She is constantly sick and worried and anxious all the time because she’s stuck in a country she hates, looking after a man who has always treated her like shit. She’s aging twice as fast, burning the precious time she has left for herself.

She’s chosen this. Because she’s of the generation ‘you take care of your elderly parents no matter what.’ And it’s killing her. Taking what I’m guessing is decades off her life.

She should t have to do this. There should be affordable, accessible help for people in this situation.

If she falls and gets hurt? Gets cancer? Hit with a debilitating condition like Parkinson’s? I cannot look after her when she gets older. I’m disabled, I can barely look after myself— and some days, I cannot even do that. Her sons will absolutely not take her in if she is poorly or ill.

She is wasting the precious few years of health she has on people who abuse her.

Will she will probably struggle alone, with no family to support her? Yeah. I hate it, but yeah. Is that going to happen to me? If I live that long, yes. I will be in a wheelchair, unable to move? Unable to take care of myself, and no one else to help me.

But should I have had kids just to improve the chances of someone being around when I am that old? Nope. That’s a horrible thing to do to your kids. Because I’ve seen the cost on her face and body as she gets more and more broken down mentally and physically from all of this.

Does she owe what precious free years of health, well-being she has left to her abusive parents? in a country she hates—no.

Do I owe it to her to move to a country I hate to look after her when she is older, at great cost of my own physical and mental health? No.

Would it be less scary, the thought of knowing you’re safe if you get older and need help? Of course. Would a kid owe me the best years of their lives to dribble smashed banana into my mouth? Nope.

If I had kids, would I expect them to destroy their lives helping me? Also no. I’d beg them not to, actually.

Sane and stable countries use taxes to help people from the cradle up the grave. It’s absurd to me that so many countries, including the one I am living in, has such tragically awful care for vulnerable people. Our taxes are as much as the sane and stable countries. But that money isn’t being used to help you, or me, or or that baby or that elderly person.

Mostly, it’s going to corrupt politicians who do whatever the fuck they want. And a royal family that has billions in their bank accounts but are still living off tax payers.

This is a very broken, ridiculous system. And I’m tired. I’m scared for me, for all the disabled people in my situation. I’m scared for all the people like my mum who might not even get her own life until she’s 80? You bet like hell I am. But that’s not the kids’ faults. That’s the governments for wasting your money starting wars in other countries, paying for private jets for politicians, and generally just being shit.

We all deserve better.

It feels taboo as a childfree person to admit this but I actually do have concerns about who is going to take care of me when I'm old. The elder care system in our nation relies A LOT on the unpaid care labor of adult children. I just don't think that's a good reason to have kids.

"But you'll have more money!" does not completely put this to rest for me. Neither does "Buy care insurance!" Even if I can afford direct personal care, who is going to advocate for me to get it? Who is going to navigate bureaucracy for me when I'm 80?

"If you do have kids, there's no GUARANTEE that they'll take care of you when your old!" That's true, but doesn't solve my problem.

I think childfree people get very defensive about this question because its used as a kind of "gotcha!" against us, but I actually do not feel we can afford to be in denial about this reality. Based on current trends of more people in their 30s stating they intend to be permanently childfree, we are going to see a huge wave of childfree adults hitting the eldercare system at once in a few decades. Childfree people in their 30s should be advocating around eldercare NOW.

[aboutcustardcreams]

Time Ticking, Patience Thinning

Here’s another chapter that I hope you enjoy 🫶🏼 please lemme know if you do~ would make my day!

previous chapter

“What’s your name again-? I didn’t quite catch it the first time.” 

When the boy opened his mouth to answer Agatha’s question, your gaze instinctively shifted to him. What happened next took you by surprise. As he began to speak, a shimmering sigil materialized above his lips, silencing his voice entirely. Your brows furrowed in confusion as your gaze slowly shifted to Agatha. 

“Interesting,” that’s all she said. 

"What do you mean?” 

“Nothing to shout about,” she waved it off, giving you the hint of keeping that detail Teen a secret for now. “Anyway, I can’t promise I’ll remember your name.” 

Her words caught you off guard, and it took everything in you not to burst into a cackle. Even so, a tiny puff of air escaped your nose, almost sounding like a snort. Agatha turned to you then, her composure always impeccable, infuriatingly so. 

“We better get going now,” she brushed past you towards the front door, or rather, the spot where it used to be.

You smacked your lips at her nonchalance. If you weren’t in such a rush, you’d invade her personal space right there and now, capture her lips with yours to wipe off that knowing grin from her face. 

Instead you only said, “I drive.”

She didn’t object to that. In fact, she preferred it when you were the one behind the wheel. It gave her the liberty to let her hands wander over your skin. 

As you slid into your car, Teen's eyes sparkled with the hopeful anticipation of claiming the shotgun seat, but Agatha cut off his enthusiasm rather quickly. 

“Be a good pet and sit in the back, will you?” 

The boy shot you a sideway glance and you muttered a soft ‘sorry’ in his direction. Resigned, he slid into the backseat, clicked his seatbelt into place,and slouched in quiet defeat, arms crossed over his chest, reminding you of his young age. 

“Maybe on our way back you two can switch-”

Agatha didn’t even let you finish, “Or maybe not,” she muttered sarcastically. 

You sighed and started the car, with no clear destination in mind just yet, “very mature.”

She didn’t respond to that and simply hummed.

“So, where are we going?” Teen asked after a bunch of minutes. 

You looked at him from the rearview mirror, “for starters we do need a Coven to walk the Road.” 

He looked like a child on Christmas day, “you’re taking me to your Coven?” 

With your eyes back on the road, you hummed, “Uhm, not exactly.”

“We never had one,” Agatha clarified, “I mean, not for long anyway.” You glanced at her briefly, wondering what she might say to the boy next. For a fleeting moment, you thought she might blurt out the entire truth right then and there. But it wouldn’t be like her, so you brushed the thought aside almost as quickly as it came to you. 

“They annoyed me,” she said with a dramatic tut, “so one day I woke up, feeling inspired, and turned them into dust.”

You nearly veered into the opposite lane when she said that, your knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t entirely a lie either. Yes, she had killed her Coven, of that there was no dispute. But what she left unsaid were the reasons that forced her hand, reasons that probably nobody knew, that’s why people were so quick to come up with the ‘witch killer’ nickname. 

Teen looked terrified and uncertain what was to say next. And Agatha, being Agatha, looked quite pleased with it. 

"That’s not exactly how it went,” you mumbled, giving away the hint that there was more to say, without actually saying it. You stole a glance at Agatha, her smile teasing, slightly amused by the familiarity of the situation. There you were, once more, doing your best to clean up her reputation. She told you many times you didn’t have to do it, but you couldn’t help it. “What I can say is this: they’ve blown the whole ‘witch killer’ thing way out of proportion. Agatha isn’t a bad person.” 

Sure, you couldn’t deny the fact that Agatha killed witches, more than a few. But survival had a way of sharpening its edges, forcing impossible choices. She killed to save herself when no one else would. She killed to save Nicky. And later on… she killed to find a way to save you. It’s long overdue that people knew the truth, yet you knew it wasn’t your place, at least not only yours, to spill it. 

When Rio sent the Furies after you, they took possession of your mind, twisting reality until it was unrecognizable to you. Their voices inside your heart hurt in the most inexplicable way, but you resisted, you vowed to. You never fully understood how your condition affected Agatha and Nicky, because whenever you had a fleeting moment of clarity, they chose to savor the time together rather than tell you how much it hurt them to see you like that. During that time, Agatha’s killings increased but you wouldn’t know. She didn’t need to kill witches to heal Nicky, though. The moment you used your magic to bring him back to life, the curse had been lifted and with it, Nicky’s illness. But your magic had come with an unexpected price to pay. Rio had warned you, but you refused to listen. 

Noticing the way your eyes dimmed, Agatha slid her hand above your knee. She knew you too well to figure out exactly where your thoughts had gone. You were blaming yourself again. And she couldn’t let you do that. 

“Don’t listen to her, Teen. She has the tendency of picturing me softer than I really am,” despite her serious tone, the way her hand squeezed your knee, told you a whole different story. All she wanted was for you to let go of your sense of guilt. “When it comes to survival, you’ll do whatever it takes— anything. I hope it never comes that far for you.” 

Teen considered those words in silence. Your version compared to Agatha’s and it all just clicked. You were protecting her and she was protecting you. In that moment, he decided the rumors about the two of you didn’t matter, whether they were true or not. From now on, he would form his own picture of you both by living in the present and watching you do your thing. 

“I think it’s sweet that you found each other and stuck around for all these years. Centuries, I presume. In a way you form a Coven of two–” 

Your heart warmed up at Teen’s words. It was kind of cute to think of it that way. Your lips spread in a smile and so did Agatha’s, but more because she was amused by the whole thing he just said. Sure, she agreed with him- the fact that there was a bond between you two was true. An understatement, to be frank. You went through so many things together that the sole thought of parting ways for whatever reason felt now like a complete idiocy. You belonged to her like she belonged to you. 

“Teen, I’m sorry to cut your enthusiasm, but she and I are in a relationship. That hardly makes us a Coven.” 

“It makes us a family, though,” you pointed out. 

You caught something flickering in Agatha’s eyes, a shimmer of emotion, maybe even vulnerability. Had it been just the two of you, she might have let it linger, but with the boy in the car, she felt uneasy. So she averted her eyes, focusing on the passing landscape to her right. 

Noticing her hand slip away from your thigh, you pouted. Stubbornly, you reached out and placed it back where it belonged and when she turned, your lips curled up once again in a mischievous grin. Agatha snorted. That sass of yours— 

“There’s no time to be namby-pamby, my love. I need you to be focused.”

You rolled your eyes, but chuckled, “Fine. Wouldn’t want you to lose your only chance at surviving against the Salem Seven.”

Agatha's expression twisted into an exaggerated version of your own, mimicking your tone as she repeated the words you just said. The effect was immediate and both you and Teen burst into laughter, incredulous on your part. 

“I don’t sound like that!” 

“You do,” she insisted, lips twitching in a smirk. 

“I think she did a pretty good ‘you’”, Teen added, only fueling your mocking disbelief and Agatha’s enjoyment. 

“Whatever, I’m done with you two.” 

Your eyes squinted towards a peculiar building standing in the middle of nowhere to your left. You decided to try your luck there, took a rapid turn and parked right in front of the building, your instinct telling you there was a potential witch in there. The faded sign hanging above the door caught your eye, and you read it aloud: Madame Calderou’s Psychic Readings. 

Agatha clasped her hands together, before rubbing them as if she was plotting something mischievous, “Right. Seems like we are here.”

Teen’s interest piqued once again, “You think there’s a real witch in there?”

Before you could respond, Agatha preceded you, “we shall see if she knows the witchy handshake first.”

“Oh my God– there’s a witchy handshake?”

You let out an exasperated sigh while Agatha giggled to herself. It was so easy to play with that boy. “Teen, she is pulling your leg. There’s no such thing as a witchy handshake. Honestly that would be so demeaning.”

“Such as flying brooms or pointy hats,” she agreed with you. 

“I like flying brooms,” you retorted, as you three walked up towards the building. 

Agatha draped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into a squishy, however affectionate embrace, “Course you do,” she purred, “next you’ll be telling me you want to adopt a black cat as familiar.” 

“I already have a familiar, thank you very much,” you pointed out, “a nice turtle that your bunny keeps bullying shamelessly.”

Agatha gasped dramatically, but you knew it was just an act, “he doesn’t! Take it back–” 

“He does,” you chuckled. “And no, I won’t.” 

“Uhm, we are drifting off here,” Teen interjected, with an awkward smile. He pointed at the building, making both you and Agatha shift your attention back to the reason why you were there. Gather a Coven of Witches. 

“Right,” she took a mental note to return to the subject another time. 

You nodded, stepping forward to open the door. Holding it wide, you gestured for Teen to go in first. He slipped inside without a word, rather excitedly actually, and as Agatha approached, she brushed past you, but not before her fingers slid into yours, her hand fitting perfectly in your grasp. 

A small, teasing grin tugged at your lips. “I thought we didn’t have time for sappy moments.” 

“Don’t be such a brat,” she whispered into your ear, in a cheeky tone, you didn’t miss. Couldn’t, if you tried. 

*

“You’ve been under the influence of another, haven't you? Someone you hurt,” the clairvoyant started, her voice solemn as she took in Agatha’s blue eyes. The smirk of confidence that had tugged at Agatha’s lips faded as soon as she realized that Lilia Calderou wasn’t a fraud and knew who she was. You gave Agatha’s hand a tentative squeeze, a way to let her know you were there– that everything was okay. Her fingers tightened around yours in response. 

“And she paid the price, too. They took your agency, but not hers,” she continued, her eyes landed on yours as you frowned uncomfortably. You never blamed Agatha for anything and you certainly wouldn’t start now just because a clairvoyant said so. “I feel it, your magic. It’s restless, volatile and quite dangerous. It should not exist.” 

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms over your chest, “Here we go again,” you muttered, voice laced with dry sarcasm. Agatha snorted out a low chuckle in response to Lilia’s words, “You know nothing about her talent, so I’d suggest you to be quiet about it.” She never cared about what other witches thought about her, but whenever it came to you, she would completely lose her mind, if someone dared to judge who you were, basing their opinion on a prejudice as old as the world. 

“So you’re a witch?” Teen’s question came in a hopeful tone.

“Divination witch is my guess,” you replied before Lilia could. 

A mischievous grin tugged at Lilia’s lips. “If you intend to overstay your visit, I’ll have to charge you again.” 

“Oh, I think you can grant us another ten minutes of your time,” Agatha groaned, “It’s not that there’s a line in here or something.”

In response, you saw Teen bow his head to wipe the grin off his face. You, on the other hand, made no effort to hide yours. 

Annoyance was evident in her eyes, as she retorted, “whatever you want from me, I’m not interested,” Lilia stood up and without another word, she stood and disappeared behind the curtain at the back of her shop. 

You and Agatha shared a knowing glance. 

Teen appeared more disappointed than concerned, “Now what?” 

“Now we persuade her.” 

To preserve Agatha’s life, it was essential to gather some magic and you would have, no matter what. So you stood, eyes flashing with a newfound calm mingled with determination. Agatha noticed and smiled. She loved you for so many things and that behavior of yours, was just one of those characteristics that reminded her of why she chose to stick by your side so many years ago. 

She gave you a nod of her head and followed you, as you took the lead. On the other side, you found yourself in what could loosely be called an apartment. A single room stretched before you. To the left stood a corner kitchen, its countertops cluttered with mismatched utensils, jars of herbs, the faint glimmer of copper pots, and a kettle she just turned on, probably to make herself some soothing tea. 

“Join us,” Agatha insisted, as you and Teen kept looking around. “Honestly the way you live is kind of disappointing. You deserve more and better than whatever this place is…” Her gaze drifted to the far end of the room, where a mattress leaned against the wall, probably to save up space. 

You wondered if there was a toilet hidden behind it. How low could a witch go?

The clairvoyant’s gaze flickered with hesitation, her lips pressed into a thin line as Agatha’s words sinked in. The shrill whistle of the kettle cut through the silence, drawing her attention and causing both you and Agatha to roll your eyes, when she spun around. 

“Lilia–”, you couldn’t do this all day.  

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” when she turned to face you, her eyes locked onto yours, sharp and intense. You could tell she was conflicted, exasperated even. “I won’t make the same mistake and fall into Agatha’s manipulative ways. They say you endured the Furies’ wrath because you did and yet here you are, still standing by her side. I don’t understand that.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement. 

She had no idea what she was talking about– Agatha had nothing to do with the Furies. For some odd, infuriating reason, nobody knew a thing about Rio Vidal, instead: the true cause of everything. Instead, according to the stories, it had always been you and Agatha all along, so whatever bad thing came your way, Agatha bore the brunt of the blame. You were sick of that. 

Teen was in shock too, he didn’t speak, but a part of him ached to defend both you and Agatha. He’d read about the Furies, knew the torment you endured for years, but not for a second had he ever believed Agatha was responsible for it. It just didn’t sit right with him. It couldn’t be.  Not when Agatha looked at you the way she did, as if you held all the stars in the sky just for her. As if you were everything she had left.

Watching you from her peripheral vision, Agatha recognized clear signs of your struggle. Your jaw clenched tightly, your hands curled into fists at your sides, and your lips pressed into a thin line, “If you really think Agatha is somewhat responsible for what happened to me, which by the way is none of your business, maybe you lost your talent–”, your words hung in the air, adding to the already tense atmosphere lingering in the room. 

Lilia looked somewhat self-conscious about what she said and how they affected you, yet she didn’t apologize. However, she held herself back from responding to your bitter remark about her.

Agatha’s lips stretched into a sad, tight smile the moment her fingers brushed against your forearm, and you failed to meet her eyes, “hey– don’t go there again. It’s not worth it,” she cooed, voice firm, yet veiled with the usual fondness she only reserved to you. You clenched your eyes shut for a moment, your magic sparkling at the tips of your fingers. Lilia was right about one thing: your talent could be dangerous especially when wielded by a witch emotionally distressed or simply pissed off, like you. 

“You’re right,” you sighed, “Look, we are going to walk the Road. The Witches’ Road. And we need a divination witch, but the choice is yours. You can keep living your eternal life in this kind of shack you call home or try to go back on top. Be a witch again.”

Lilia’s mouth almost dropped, then. “The Road is a death wish.” 

“I survived,” Agatha waved with a grin. 

“And yet you’ve got no power.”

“That’s why I need to walk the Road, again. To restock.” 

Lilia swallowed thickly. The offer was appealing and yet, she was uncertain. Agatha was, after all, known for having betrayed her entire Coven, at a very young age too. “How can I trust you won’t take my power at the earliest opportunity?”

Before Agatha could say anything, you stepped forward. “She won’t. I guarantee it for you.” Despite your growing distaste for Lilia at this moment, your principles held steadfast: no more witches would die because of Agatha. Or you. That was a promise you intended to keep. “You seem to know very well what Agatha’s capable of, but my question is, are you just as familiar with my talent?”

Lilia almost found it amusing that you’d question her knowledge about witches of your kind. “I do. At least to some extent,” she clarified, “I know what a necromancer witch can do. And I also know you’re not a killer,” she finished on a softer note. 

“Agatha isn’t either,” you pointed out.

“Well, isn’t your loyalty sweet–”

Your lover took a step ahead, stretched out a hand, and moved you behind her, the moment your magic intensified around you and her, “Look, you’re right, I’ve got a reputation, I can’t help with that–” she trailed off, gesturing animatedly while doing so. “I don’t have time to persuade you into believing my intentions are genuine. Time’s running out and if you’re not willing to tag along, then fine. I’ll still Walk the Witches’ Road, restore my powers, and get my life back. Just remember that the path you’re currently on leads nowhere.” 

Her words were convincing enough, but it was the small piece of paper she was holding that truly caught Lilia’s attention. You hadn’t noticed it before, nor were you sure where it had come from, but the realization struck quickly. A smirk tugged at your lips as everything suddenly fell in place.

That was an eviction notice.

“Even if I were to accept, you’d still need more witches.”

Agatha had a solution for that too. She grinned from ear to ear, “I was hoping you’d use your witchcraft to come up with a list of names. You can do that, can’t you?” 

It was a rhetorical question, she knew she could. 

Lilia’s lips stretched into a defiant smile, “give me that,” she said, snatching the piece of paper from Agatha’s hands, along with a pen that lay on the table. She didn’t even have to think about the names, they were already there, poised on the tip of her tongue or rather, the pen. 

When she handed the paper back, both you and Agatha went as pale as a sheet. It couldn’t be. At the top were your name and Agatha’s, followed by Lilia Calderou, Jennifer Kale, Alice Wu Gulliver, and, finally, Rio Vidal.

[winchesterwild78]

Heaven

Master List

Characters: Dean x Reader (wife), Sam x Reader (in-laws)

Warnings: Mention of deaths, nothing too major, some fluffy stuff 

A/N: I got this idea from a post I saw @jackles010378 post. Dean has died and he meets you, his wife on the bridge. When Sammy comes, you give them their time. 

Very short story 

All work is my own, don’t take it. Reblogs and shares are welcome 

Minors DNI 18+ 

I sat on the porch of the bar with Bobby, drinking a beer. The two of us reminisced about how we met, and how he introduced me to Dean. 

It was love at first sight for me. Who wouldn’t fall for the one and only Dean Winchester. He was an amazing hunter, an incredible protector, and damn was he good looking. His jeans fit him perfectly, his shirt was just tight enough to show off his toned chest, and his biceps and bowed legs made me weak in the knees. 

Dean had so many walls up when I first met him. Who could honestly blame him? He had been through hell and back and shouldered so much from a young age. I never got the chance to meet John, and that was a good thing, because honestly, I definitely had some choice words for him. 

The day Dean finally let some of his walls down, was after a particularly hard hunt. I had gotten hurt and Dean was angry. At first I thought he was angry with me, but quickly I realized he was angry at himself for letting me get hurt. “Dean, it wasn’t your fault. It was mine. It’s not your responsibility to protect me all the time. Going left when I should have gone right was my choice, and my choice alone.” I remember touching his chest and feeling his heart beat wildly and his breath hitch. The look in his eyes had me holding my breath, and then he kissed me.

That was almost ten years ago. We had been through so much together, and after that night, we were inseparable. Dean and I had sex that night. No, it wasn’t making love or taking our time. It was primal and full of need and desire. It was raw, messy and loud. All the years of hunting together, the tension that had built and the angst from the hunt, just poured out in between those sheets that night. 

Dean took me in ways I’d never been taken, and I fell deeper in love with him. I was sure the morning light would bring regret from Dean, but I was wrong. The next morning when I woke up in his arms, he told me he didn’t want anyone else but me. We had been together ever since. 

About a year after that night Dean and I got married. We tried to have children, but it wasn’t in the cards for us. The biggest reason, I died in a car accident about a year ago. 

Dean tried to make a deal to bring me back, but no demon would deal with him. Jack let me go back and see him, I begged him to move on. Jack gave me 24 hours to be with Dean to say our goodbyes. We spent the whole time together, most of it in bed. We made love, over and over again, and Dean took pictures of the both of us together. He said he wanted to make sure he had pictures to hold on to if he couldn’t hold me. 

When it was time to say goodbye, Dean kissed me and told me he’d see me soon. I told him I didn’t want to see him too soon. “Dean, please move on. Live your life. Fall in love again, and have those babies we wanted. You deserve that, Dean. I want that for you. I love you.” Dean cupped my face, “Baby, I don’t want anyone else. You’re it for me. I love you, Y/N.” He kissed my lips one last time and then it was time for me to go. 

When I got to Heaven and Jack had taken over, I ran into Bobby. Seeing me was met with a mixture of excitement and sadness. He knew since I was there, that meant Dean was alone. Bobby pulled me into a big hug, “Hey, baby girl. I wasn’t expecting you here so soon.” “Yeah, I was in a car accident, I was hit by a truck running a red light. Imagine that, a hunter dying in a car accident and not on a hunt.” 

I made my rounds seeing loved ones and visiting different places in Heaven. Jack appeared on one of my walks, “Hey, Y/N. Go to the bridge. You have a visitor.” I looked at Jack oddly, but started to walk towards the bridge. As I approached I saw her…Baby. The beautiful, sleek, black car that held so many memories for Dean and me. Then I saw him, leaning against the side.

A soft gasp leaving my lips, “Dean.” He turned and looked at me with a smile on his face, “Hey sweetheart.” I ran to him and leaped in his arms. “Dean! I’ve missed you so much baby.” He looked exactly the same, strong jaw, beautiful green eyes, strong arms and so incredibly handsome.

He pulled me tight and close to him, “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart. So much.” “Dean, what happened? Why are you here so soon?” Dean sighed, “It was a hunt gone wrong, we saved the kids, but I misstepped and ended up impaled on a piece of rusty rebar. It went right through me.” 

A tear slipped out, “Oh Dean, I’m so sorry baby. As much as I love that you’re here I know Sammy misses you.” “Yeah, I’m sure he does, but he’s got Eileen and I’m betting he’s going to marry her. You would have loved her. She’s so good for him.”

I smiled softly, “Well maybe he will get out of the life and they live a normal life.” He smiled and nodded, thinking about his baby brother getting out of the life and living the life he deserved.

Dean and I spend the rest of the afternoon talking and catching up. We climbed in Baby and went for a drive. 

The windows rolled down, music up, Dean’s hand in mine and me  sitting next to him. This was definitely Heaven. 

Dean parked the car and had me slide closer to him. His lips on mine and hands in my hair. “God I missed you sweetheart. It’s been too long since I’ve felt your lips on mine. I’m so sorry we never had those babies we wanted. We would have made some beautiful kids.” Dean chuckled. 

I cupped his face, “Dean, it’s okay. I had you and that was enough. Besides, if we had kids and I died, you would have been left with them to raise alone. Now with you gone, who would have taken care of them? My life with you was incredible. With or without children. I had you, and you were enough.”  

“You were enough too, sweetheart. More than enough. I feel so incredibly lucky to have you as my wife. I love you.”

A few minutes later we slipped into the backseat to make up for lost time. It was incredible and felt even better than I remembered. A few hours later we were dressed again, kissed and slipped back into the front seat. 

Dean put the car in drive and we drove towards the bridge again. We climbed out of the car and he leaned against the door, pulling me into his arms. My back was to his chest and his arms wrapped around me tightly..

We talked about everything and then silence. Dean and I could always be with each other in comfortable silence. He just held me. An occasional kiss to my neck or head. 

As the sun was starting to set, Dean looked up and smiled. I looked over to where he was and saw Sam. “Hey Sammy.” Dean said with a slight chuckle. “Hey Dean, Y/N.” 

Dean’s arms let me go and I walked over to Sam and hugged him. Then Dean pulled him in for a hug. I smiled when I saw the brothers embrace. 

Sam began telling us about his life after Dean died. What felt like minutes to us was over 40 years on Earth. 

Sam told us he left the life, went back to Stanford and became an attorney. He and Eileen got married and had a little boy they named Dean. Dean smiled when he heard that. Then he told us he died as an old man surrounded by his family. 

Dean beamed with pride. Sam was Dean’s first son and everyone knew it. I kissed Dean and hugged Sam. “I’m gonna let you two catch up. I’ll meet you later at Harvells, Dean.” 

Dean pulled me close, “I love you, sweetheart.” “I love you too, Dean.” As I started to walk away I turned and looked back at my husband and his baby brother. They smiled and nodded at me. I knew they needed time together. 

I had plenty of time left to spend with Dean and in his arms. After all, this was Heaven. 

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[pinterestsucksnow2024]

I had surgery right before rebloging that and am just now checking the activity on my blog and man... this was a trip.

I stand by my statment that Amnesia Guy With Confusing Phone is a good character as evident of how long it too me to figure out what someones response ment post anesthesia.

To answer the question, and for anyone who needs Ideas...

My phone has some of these from like... 2012 and I still barely remeber who goes with what:

That Guy (with a picture of Chrona from Soul Eater because That Guy was an entity who confused and frustrated me despite being one of my best friends) - jokes on us... I somehow assigned a nonbinary character to my friend who did not yet know she was trans. It took 10 years and its still hilarious.

Jonathan Frakes

John (and its just a picture of the band The Police) - I THINK this was a sound guy I did a gig with and I have way too many Johns in my phone.

Jeff - but I know it's my friend Stewart. I dont even get the joke anymore.

Kaylee - I THINK is a girl named Marie who I grew up. Idk who else would have earned that vibe. (Firefly reference)

Koala

Mal Reynalds - My cousin with a very proffessional picture

Naruto, Goku

My own FATHER is in my phone as a Terminator Reference:

Reese, Tech-Com

I have a scam call(?) Marked as "Who is calling and why are they calling?" With a stormtrooper for the icon. That alone would be fantastic for a story about amnesia if you had like... a secret agent plot with a normal guy.

So... to give an example of realism: I still get very confused by Jeff. That is NOT remotely that guys name. I know the other references in my phone but I obviously did not name Jeff. I only know it's Stewart because I know what our conversations look like.

I have no clue which of the 6 Jonathan's in my life got assigned a star trek reference. I probably need to clean that one out of my phone because IDK who that is. Same with John. I have a VAUGE memory of doing the Police as the picture because Sound Guy but even that is a weird association because there is no guy named John in that band.

Imagine not remebering things and having a situation requiring you to contact some rando in a phone and trying to figure out where Stewart is and it be under a guy named Jeff.

Another very real example is if someone else has to use said phone. I used to have BOTH parents under goofy names. My mom was something like "Zordon" from power rangers. Then I added her to my emergecy list so it was ICE Zordon.

Imagine someone having an emergency on the street and having to figure out who the heck ICE Zordon is and praying you have the right emergency contact and not some weird hotline.

Feel like I should add that this was on the list of "dumb shit I did from ages 13-18 that still haunts me" as a warning to anyone who would otherwise have a Skibidi Toliet where my phone at one point definitely had garys mod references. It wasn't until I had to sort out the Too Many Johns that I realized basic naming is actually worth it.

As for organization... yesnt. My phone is kind of a precarious record of eras and phases. My friends were named based on whichever character they were assigned when we went through a phase together. Kaylee, for example- Marie was a bubbly creative person who reminded me of the character from Firefly. I didnt anticipate adulthood pushing away that whimsy once I had work contacts and business dealings. I thought I would change it eventually, but over a decade later I still squint and try to jar the memory loose. That Guy brings back an instant memory of the smell of the courtyard on the first day of school when we were highschoolers playing Ninja and reading whatever successor to Warrior Cats.

I dont remeber or organize. Its all association. Method of Loci locked away in natural memory as senses and smells and visions of events.

Even with names, some of them dont mean anything. I think Zera was the name of someone who's phone was scammed and the scammer kept callin me. I remeber that because it was a scary lesson for me as a young college intern. Two Tori's and different last names - vauge familiarity but from where I dont know.

I know Goku belongs to a friend who may as well be my younger brother, though we don't talk since he went to med school.

Naruto automatically summons memories of long days in the study room on campus in college. High school lunch breaks discussing computer science.

The point is, believe it or not it was a strategy. I stopped doing it when I grew up but only after a bit of bullying and some misadventures. It was a survival trait adopted by a young naive teenager who was moving from a world of early online culture into a real world of people and connections.

It was never really about the organization or structure... it was about giving context to the interaction.

But if I were to lose those connections, that context... I would certainly have some questions about who That Guy is and why He /It/ [really just she] was in my favorites.

new character idea: dude who wakes up with amnesia for whatever reason and tries to go through their phone to figure out "ok who do i allegedly know well enough to get their help" except pre-amnesia!dude had all their contact names like this:

[t3a-tan]

How would Oliver handle a human child that didn't have bad intentions but was not gentle enough? Let's say the kid just doesn't really understand the terms "gentle" and "fragile" well enough to know how to handle Oliver and somehow he ended up being held by them? He is so good with kids that I wanna see how he handles that

I had a lot of fun with this! Enjoy ^^

Word Count: 4071

---

Oliver couldn't stand seeing upset children. Not because they annoyed him, but because sometimes you could tell just by looking at these children that they were being neglected in some way. Part of him was sympathetic— he had seen so many human couples in his travels and research, and it was often the case that the neglect was unintentional.

But still. Oliver couldn't help but intervene in some cases. Below a certain age it was too dangerous to approach a child— infants and young toddlers tend to put things to their lips, because that's how they explore new things; ie. Oliver.

Past that it was still risky, but he could handle the bruises. Children could be a lot more delicate than most think— once they are capable of reasoning and can communicate, it's simply a matter of finding how best to deal with that particular child in order to get what they need; whether that's food, attention, or entertainment.

Today, whilst checking the houses to update any files he had, he noticed a young child— perhaps only 3 or 4— who had been left all alone. No car in the driveway, no one else in the house. Their face was a bit red and eyes a bit watery, as if they had only stopped crying maybe ten or so minutes before he arrived, but they were still hiccuping and gasping every now and then, in distress.

After checking over his file and taking a look at the calendar in the kitchen, it became clear what had happened. Both parents had left to work and forgot to drop their toddler off at nursery— perhaps just because they were tired, or maybe because both thought the other would do it.

The toddler was half dressed too, so maybe they were in a rush; one parent could have gotten the toddler half dressed and then headed off and told the other to deal with it, only for a miscommunication to happen and…the poor babe be left alone.

With that investigation done, Oliver could not just stand by in the walls and watch. He could not rely on one of the parents realising what had happened, and the longer this went on the more likely it would result in trauma for the child. It may already be the case— though he hoped not.

Three or four…that was a pesky age. Some children that age could reason fairly well— some could not.

Oh well… I will just have to try my best.

He could see a few notes on the counter or up on the fridge mentioning a name that was likely the toddler's; Ava. With that in mind, he made his way to the living room, which is where she was currently sitting and staring at the door. He took off his glasses and left them in the walls beforehand, not wanting them to get broken.

Starting high was safer. From there he could gauge her reaction without risking a sudden grab or curious fingers.

“Ava?” He spoke out from on top of a toy box— the top of which was just slightly hard to reach. He stood still, watching as her head swivelled around to look at him, though she didn't move towards him at all, looking at him with a very neutral expression despite the sniffling. Oliver smiled a little, crouching down despite the fact that really he was the shorter one in this situation. It was instinct.

“Hello there…mummy and daddy went to work, didn't they?” He asked. That got a response immediately and she nodded quickly, inhaling some snot from all the crying as she began to speak, on the verge of crying again as if Oliver had just reminded her what she was upset about in the first place.

Most of it was incoherent— but it wasn't babbling, so that meant she was at a normal rate of speech. From what he could make of it, she was mostly repeating ‘mummy’ and ‘daddy’, mentioning a car, using the word ‘gone’, and it was clear that she was telling him exactly what he asked; her mum and dad had gone to work and she got left behind in the rush of things.

Oliver gestured calmly with his hands, showing his palms as he took on a reassuring demeanour.

“Shhh…shhh…it's alright. Mummy and daddy are going to come back.” He assured, reminding himself that children that age are more likely to understand positive language rather than if he said that her parents are not gone. “We're just doing nursery at home today, okay? Does that sound fun?”

She shook her head and wiped at her face, already starting to get upset again, looking around as if her mum and dad might just be behind her.

“N…no…” She hiccuped, voice trembling. “Mummy and…d-daddy…nn— need to…take me…”

Oliver's expression softened, his chest feeling tight at the sight. He tilted his head ever so slightly, debating whether or not he could safely be held by this child or not.

“Ava? Ava, look at me. How old are you, do you know that?” He asked, leaning down a bit. Luckily she did look up at him again, peeking through her fingers and wiping at her snotty red nose with her little hands. She sniffled again, eyes watery, but processing Oliver's question and answering in turn.

“F…four…” She murmured, voice still wobbly through her slightly uneven breathing. It was on the older end of the range Oliver had guessed, which was good, but it was still ultimately a risk.

Oh sod it. If I don't do something now she will get even more agitated and upset. Talking won't hold her attention enough.

He smiled down at her.

“Wow… you're such a big girl! And you know your own age too— very clever.” He gave her a moment to process that before continuing with a question, trying to lead gently into things to avoid making her scared of him. “Did they teach you that in nursery, Ava?”

She nodded slowly, looking up at him with rounded eyes, her lips a little purple from all the crying earlier. Thankfully, despite how she was anxiously fidgeting; rocking back and forth or clenching her shirt in a fist every now and then; it wasn't too difficult to draw her attention away from her missing parents.

“I can…I can…count…all way…to ten!” She responded slowly, wiping her watery eyes again and scooting a bit closer to the toy box Oliver was perched on.

“Can you? Oh, I would just love to hear that. Can you count to ten for me?” He requested. The more at ease she was, the less likely she was to squeeze him to death once he was in her hands. Not to mention the more comfortable she would be with him.

Ava nodded and began to count, looking up and to the side as she thought about it, slowly getting through the numbers, although she repeated some due to her frazzled state. Her voice was still shaking as she took in shuddering breaths every so often, but it wasn't as close to hyperventilating as before.

Oliver clapped his hands together, beaming.

“Bravo, bravo..! Hmm… I'm sure you also have lots of toys at nursery. Is that right?” He asked, getting a nod in return. If he could keep the child entertained until her parents got back, then hopefully this incident wouldn't repeat itself. “And you have lots of toys in this box too, don't you?

She nodded again, bright blue eyes staring up at him with much less wariness than before. She even scooted a big closer, wobbling to her feet and gripping onto the lid of the toy box as she stared at Oliver with some curiosity now.

That's good. Not for my ribs, but good for my mission.

As she leaned on the box it tipped towards her slightly and Oliver just managed to keep his balance. He quickly regained his composure, and walked slowly towards the right until he could simply hop off of the toy box and onto the TV stand right beside it. It was a bit lower down, certainly within reach, but he was pleased to see Ava was only watching him instead of grabbing him immediately.

“Can you show me your favourite toys?” He asked, gesturing encouragingly towards the toy box and sitting down on the edge of the stand, letting his legs dangle off of the edge as he watched, expression bright and warm.

Latching onto the distraction immediately without even understanding that Oliver was trying to distract her, Ava pried open the fabric lid and stuck out her tongue in concentration as she tried to pull out any of her toys. After a few attempts she let out an agitated whine, growing irritated. Oliver was about to intervene when she accidentally knocked the entire box over as she pulled her arms back out.

She stumbled back and fell onto her bum as the box fell, but she was completely unharmed. She momentarily examined her arms with an upset expression, anticipating injury despite their being none. Quickly, Oliver interjected.

“Good thinking! It will be much easier to get them out like this. Clever girl.” He praised, seeing how her eyes locked onto him and a small smile cracked across her expression, arms forgotten about as she quickly focused back on the toys again, getting on her hands and knees, just grabbing whatever was closest and beaming as she showed it off to him.

He chuckled slightly, leaning forward onto his hands as he engaged with her, getting more of a feel and understanding of her personality. Like most four year olds, she soaked up praise and attention like a sponge— but she seemed to roll with things much more smoothly than others her age might have. She was resilient, and self assured; even if Oliver needed to guide her there every now and then.

“Is that your favourite?” He asked, tone full of interest and wonder, as if he was just as excited about the random plastic tractor as she was. She nodded excitedly.

“And— and it's got…it's got um… a farmer. Called…Emma…” She announced happily, quickly dropping the toy onto the carpet as she searched for the farmer. During her search though she got distracted by the other things in there, showing them off only halfway as she piled the various toys around her.

She was playing with and fidgeting with them all individually, monologuing about what she was doing in what was mostly just incoherent babble due to her being unable to pronounce most of the words. That didn't stop her though, and Oliver happily listened, paying attention and engaging every now and then to assure her that all eyes were on her at that moment.

This worked for about twenty minutes until she started getting bored playing all by herself. She looked at Oliver, her red cheeks and purple lips having returned to normal by now since she was no longer crying, the snot having dried to her face. She waddled over to him and Oliver sat up straight, but didn't jolt or make any sudden movements.

She smiled as she snatched him off of the edge of the TV stand, Oliver just barely holding in a yelp as he had seen the hand coming at the last second. He winced, arms held awkwardly to his sides by her grubby fingers and causing his elbows to dig into his ribs a little. Her grip was tight enough to bruise and almost pushed all the breath out of him, but it was just loose enough for him to breathe.

“Ava— can you try to be gentle, please?” He asked, voice coming out a bit strained despite himself. He pulled his grimace into a calm smile, maintaining the same warm reassuring demeanour despite the aching pain in his body.

She paused for a moment, blinking down at him owlishly, not understanding what he meant. Her hesitation didn't last long though as she settled back down by the toys, laying down on her stomach and holding Oliver in front of her innocent eyes, her other hand coming closer to feel his hair curiously, mesmerised.

Oliver held still— squirming would either cause her grip to tighten, which could very easily break his bones, or it might make her afraid of him. He masked a groan of pain by clearing his throat, still smiling as her tiny but surprisingly strong fingers pushed his head to the side slightly.

“You're…as small as Emma..!” She declared excitedly, and Oliver winced when that grip tightened a bit more in turn. Any more and it could quickly become dangerous for him. He recalled the farmer she mentioned before and the size comparison— he wasn't unused to being compared to a doll.

“Oh yes, you're absolutely right! Good girl. I am just the right size for her tractor too, aren't I? Can you put me in the tractor, Ava?” He asked, trying to calmly redirect her and free himself in the process as soon as possible, as it was now difficult to inhale. His ribs creaked in protest, but he fought off the instinct to kick at all.

Perking up at the suggestion she immediately nodded, sitting up on her forearms as she looked for the tractor and finding it quickly. Once she had she shuffled around to face it, resting her cheek on the ground and smiling as she lowered Oliver into the seat of the plastic tractor.

Oliver released some of the tension that had been growing in his shoulders, inhaling some much needed air as he sat back on the slightly too large plastic seat. Just as he was in the middle of recovering though his hands instinctively clutched the fake pink wheel in front of him as the tractor; and he along with it; was suddenly lifted into the air.

It was very disorienting to fly through the air like he was as Ava delightedly made chugging sounds and waved the tractor around to pretend it was driving, but it was preferred to the death grip she had held him in before. After a couple of minutes of holding on for dear life and just trying to pretend he was on the back of his bird steed instead, the tractor finally stopped moving around as he was instead held up close to her eyes.

Oliver was a bit shaky from the sequence of events so far, but he still managed to smile up at the giant toddler.

I'm not sure how many hours I'll be able to handle this. I need to try to explain how fragile I am to her…

Before he could even attempt that though, Ava was already speaking.

“I'll be the… the mummy and you can be the baby..!” She announced, and it was not so much a question as it was a role that, to her, Oliver was already accepting. That became clear when she began to babble about the setting and other stuff, but Oliver was more focused on the hand approaching him.

“Ava, listen to me.” He spoke with a slightly firmer tone than before, due to how dangerous this could get without intervention. She recognized that, her smile dropping and hand falling back immediately, eyes completely focused on him. He suspected he had very little time before she would lose that focus and grab him again anyway, but he sighed in relief that she had stopped.

Looking up at her, Oliver could tell plainly that his seriousness was putting her on edge. So, he shifted his time to be more light-hearted again as he smiled.

“I have a game for us to play. But you have to listen really closely to the rules, okay? Are you going to be a good girl and listen?” He asked.

His return to being more playful made her relax again, and she nodded eagerly at the sound of a game idea. Oliver was relieved. Some children were determined to get their own way, and would simply ignore the idea of another game for the sake of playing what they wanted to.

“I'm a good girl…a-already..!” She pointed out, a bit tongue-tied as most toddlers were. Oliver let out a small chuckle. It was easy to forget how dangerous young children could be when staring up into their innocent gazes.

“You're absolutely right. But, I still want you to listen, okay?” He emphasised, wanting to keep her on track. He cleared his throat. “Do you know about…Goldilocks and the three bears?”

She perked up and nodded, putting the tractor down in favour of leaning on her forearms and looking at Oliver that way. Taking advantage of the solid ground, he climbed out of the driver's seat and stood on legs that felt a bit like jelly from all the jostling that had been done to him earlier. She thankfully did not seem to have a problem with it, instead only taking the opportunity to reach ahead and give Oliver a small poke.

He stumbled ever so slightly, but got his balance back immediately and showed no reaction to the poke to avoid sparking any interest in that interaction. Not until he was sure she understood she needed to be gentle, and he could already tell she was getting distracted.

“In this game, you get to be Goldilocks!” He announced, adding a bit of theatrical flare to his words to make the idea sound as exciting as possible. It seemed to work as he saw her shift with excitement, eyes gleaming with joy. “Do you want to guess what I'll be?”

Ava ummed and ahhed about it for a few moments before looking down at him with a bright expression.

“Bear!” She guessed. That was exactly the answer Oliver was expecting and it made sense for a child of her age to guess that.

“That's a great guess! You were close too. Both things start with a ‘buh’ sound after all.” He praised, emphasising the phonics with enthusiasm. “I'm going to be…a bed.”

The toddler giggled, rolling on the floor restlessly as she took in Oliver's words. She looked at him, now laying on her back and seeing him upside down, thoroughly entertained by the sight and thought. As Oliver wanted, she was hooked.

“You— can't be a…a bed..! Beds are for sleeping..!” She pointed out, finding the absurdity extremely amusing, and intrigued by Oliver's game. He was quick to play into her playful manner, taking on a more humorous tone.

“Ah, you're right! Beds are for sleeping…it would be a bit silly for you to sleep on me, wouldn't it?” He pointed out, eliciting a squeal of laughter. Ava rolled back onto her front, gaze still focused on him, and hands thankfully clutching the front of her shirt instead of him. Oliver smiled, and continued.

“No, of course not… But, just like Goldilocks found a bed that was just right, I want you to do the same thing. And when I tell you it's just right, you win! If you win 10 whole times, you get a prize. Does that sound fun?”

Really it was a very convoluted way of explaining things, but Ava seemed to engage best with praise and play, so Oliver was trying to incorporate that as much as possible to keep her happy.

Ava nodded again, so Oliver explained the rules more clearly.

“First, you're going to pick me up. If you hold me too tight I'll say ‘too hard’. If you hold me not tight enough I'll say ‘too soft’. But if you hold me gently, I will say ‘just right’. When I say ‘just right', put me back down and we'll play again. Ready?”

Without waiting for him to say go, she was already reaching forwards and picking him up, her fingers quickly squeezing onto him in the same painful grip as before. Oliver expected that for a start, and strained to speak, hopeful that this method would work.

“Too hard…” He tried to keep a light tone despite the fact that all of the air was being pushed from his lungs by those deceptively small fingers. Realising that winning wasn't as easy as she first thought, Ava concentrated; tongue sticking out again as she opened her fingers a bit. The grip was much too loose, and Oliver dropped a little because of it, having to cling onto her fingers to keep from falling.

“Too soft..!” He spoke through his big inhale of needed air, relieved at the lack of broken bones despite knowing that this would involve a few rounds of trial and error before she would consistently know the right level of pressure. The fingers closed in again, just on the edge of being too tight. But, as it was close enough, and to avoid making her lose interest too quickly, he counted it.

“Just right! Very good job, Ava. That's 1 win!” He praised. “Aren't you clever?”

The process repeated again and again, and to keep Ava's engagement with the game Oliver offered up rewards in between rounds— like a finger five (which she liked a lot) and invisible stickers. By the seventh round she had learned that ‘just right’ was closer to ‘too soft’ than ‘too hard’, and so Oliver wasn't worrying about having his ribs broken each round anymore.

They reached round 10 very quickly, and she got ‘just right’ immediately, much to her delight and pride.

“That was incredible, Ava! I'm impressed that you got the hang of that so quickly.” He smiled genuinely. Although the bruises from earlier were bad and would take a while to heal, at least he could rest assured that he had a method to help prevent further bruising. “Your prize is… I'll play any game you want.”

Already he could feel the fingers begin to tighten again as her focus turned away from her grip and to thinking of a new game.

“But!” Oliver quickly interjected, stopping her in her tracks. “I'm still going to tell you if it's just right or not when you hold me, okay? Just to test if you're paying attention.”

It was all continuing to go relatively well, and Oliver was perfectly content playing along with the child's imaginative play provided his bones stayed intact. Whenever Oliver felt her grip getting too tight or too loose he made sure to correct her and heaped her with lots of praise once she got it right.

Ava had completely forgotten about her parents being gone, just enjoying playing games with Oliver.

Faintly, he heard the sound of a car pulling up beside the house, and although he wasn't sure if it was one of her parents or not, it was soon confirmed by the sound of the front door unlocking. Ava also paused when she heard the door, sitting up a bit and turning around, her fingers held in her mouth as she stared.

A woman burst into the living room, letting the door swing open and not bothering to close it as she spotted Ava on the floor. As soon as the toddler saw her mother, her grip on Oliver completely released as she began crying again, immediately returning to the same distress as before now that she remembered what had happened. Her little hands instinctively reached towards the woman, making grabbing motions.

Oliver landed on the carpet with a small ‘oof’, before backpedalling into the shadows under the TV stand, watching as the mother rushed over and scooped up the crying toddler, apologising profusely and smothering her in affection to try to get her to calm down.

He smiled slightly at the sight, relieved that Ava was now in her caretakers hands again. His body was equally relieved, and he winced as a pang of pain shot out from the various bruises he had acquired whilst entertaining the curious toddler.

He didn't stick around for too long after, once he was sure that Ava was going to be well taken care of. He managed to find the entrance he had come out from in the first place, retrieving his glasses and placing them on his face. His finger pushed at the bridge to put it in the right place again as he slung his pack over his shoulder and walked outside to whistle for Gale.

I'll have to cut this trip short…but the bruises were well worth it.

[lottiesboy]

a day out in westview!!

pairing: cg!agatha harkness x little!reader

summary: you spend the day with your mama and aunt wanda.

tags: sfw, fluff, age regression, mama!agatha, aunt!wanda, pacis, shopping, eating, reader being a bit of a fussy baby, agatha and wanda spoiling you :3

“babyyyy, wakey wakey.” agatha rubbed your tummy. you woke up slowly, feeling your paci the fell out of your mouth in the night beside you. you put it in your mouth sleepily, making agatha coo.

“awww,,, c’mere, sleepy baby. are you excited to go out with wanda today?” she picked you up from your crib, patting your back as your head rested on her shoulder. you whined sleepily in response.

there was a knock at the door, which made agatha yell, “coming!” you woke up a little bit at that. agatha walked to open the door, hearing wanda greet her from the other side. “am i too early?”

“oh no, not at all! it’ll only take me a little while to get the baby dressed.” agatha let wanda in, going back to your nursery to get you dressed and freshened up. while doing so, you woke up a little more.

“aww, you’re so cute, bunny. feeling more awake now?” agatha pinched your cheek. “mm hm, mama.”

agatha grabbed your diaper bag, slinging it on her shoulder. “let’s go see wanda, huh?” she clipped you paci to your shirt, holding your hand. you walked out to the living room, seeing wanda on the couch.

“hi, sweetheart! c’mere!” wanda gasped. you came over and she gave you a big hug. every time you saw your aunt wanda, she was always so sweet.

soon, the three of you got into agatha’s car and took off, you sitting in the backseat. agatha thought it would be a good idea to go out for lunch before the mall, since all of you were hungry.

-

you woke up to agatha unbuckling your seatbelt. “had a little nap, baby? are you hungry?” she helped you out of the seat. agatha held your hand as all of you walked into the little cafe. you were seated quickly and given menus, but agatha proudly asked for a little coloring page for you. the waitress had no problem with it, and gave you the activity sheet with crayons.

after ordering, wanda and your mama were talking about grownup stuff while you were coloring, laying your head against agatha’s shoulder. “mama, color.” you looked up at her, butting into wanda and agatha’s conversation. you didn’t mean to, but you just wanted attention.

“mama’ll color with you, baby.” she wrapped her arm around you and grabbed a purple crayon, doodling on the page with you. “you’re coloring so well, sweetheart.” wanda complimented with a smile. “thank you.” you said shyly. wanda watched you and agatha play tic tac toe, which she totally didn’t let you win.

when the food got to you, agatha cut yours in small pieces. “wan some, mama.” you pointed to agatha’s plate of pasta. “what do you say?”

“pease, mama.”

agatha smiled, twirling some pasta onto her fork for you. she fed you, wiping the sauce of your chin. “yummy?” she asked and you nodded.

the three of you finished up eating, agatha buying you a milkshake for dessert. wanda and agatha split the bill, and the three of you walked out, ready to go shopping. agatha grabbed the milkshake out of your hand to hold it while crossing the street. you pouted when she took a sip.

“mama, that my milkshake!”

“mama bought it for you, bunny. it’s what i call the “mama tax.” she unlocked the car, taking another sip and giving it back to you. you couldn’t help but smile at how silly your mama was.

-

when the three of you got to the mall, you wanted to go to the toy store immediately, but agatha wanted to get you some new clothes first. what felt like several minutes of agatha saying, “mama’s almost done” or her helping you try on clothes, you started to get restless and a little whiny.

agatha didn’t want to risk you having a tantrum in this store, so she finished up and paid for everything, telling wanda how absolutely adorable you’re gonna look in your new sweaters.

“oh crap! i forgot i needed to take the blouse back. it’s in the trunk.” agatha was about to start walking back to her car, then she heard your complaints about the toy store. “we’ll see toys in a minute, baby.”

you were very upset because you didn’t wanna wait in another boring clothing store for a million hours!!! but wanda had an idea.

“what if i take the little one while you take care of that blouse?” wanda’s hand began you rub your back. “oh, wanda, you’re a lifesaver.” agatha tapped her shoulder and wanda smiled. “you be good for your auntie, okay bunny? mama’s gonna be right back.” she kissed your cheek, letting you and wanda finally see some toys!!!

there was so many toys and stuffies, you got a little overstimulated because there was so much to choose from. “you like those stuffies, sweet pea? oh, that looks so cuddly.” wanda smiled, seeing you hug the stuffie. you didn’t think you were gonna come out with anything, but wanda had something different in mind.

-

agatha walked over to where the toy store was in the mall where she saw you and wanda sitting in lounge chair across from the store.

“mama, wanda boug me toy!”

“she did?” agatha gasped. “oh wanda, you didn’t have to. this little one is spoiled enough.” agatha ruffled your hair. “i couldn’t say no to that sweet face!! i don’t know how you do it, agatha.”

you showed agatha that wanda bought you a stuffie and some stickers. “did you tell wanda thank you, sweetie?”

you nodded, just happy to have a cute stuffie in your hands.

it got later and later at the mall and the three of you left, agatha putting you on her hip halfway to the car because you were so tired. agatha fawned at the way you held your new stuffie to your chest, asking for your paci. she reached into your diaper bag to get it and pushed it in your mouth.

she set you in the backseat of her car, strapping your seatbelt. “someone’s definitely getting a nap when we get home, yeah.” she said to herself. you reached for agatha with a sleepy whine, making her chuckle a little and shush you. “mama’s gotta drive, baby. you’ll get cuddles at home, i promise.”

she shut the door and got in the drivers seat, watching you doze off in the rearview mirror.

[wifewithasecret314]

Beach Trip

I moved to a new city for my first job after college. I didn't know a lot of people besides my coworkers so I ended up doing a lot of stuff with them outside of work. One weekend a coworker invited me to the beach with his fiance and another friend to get away for a while. The coworker knew that my boyfriend (now husband) and I had just started a break because long distance was getting too hard, and he wanted to help me get my mind off of him. I hadn't been to the beach in ages so I figured it would be fun.

Friday after work, the coworker and his fiance picked me and his friend up and drove us all to the coast. I had never met his friend before but he ended up being pretty funny and kinda attractive. We weren't quite flirting, but you could tell there was some underlying interest between us. I brushed this aside though as it just made me think of my boyfriend. That evening we ended up going out to a restaurant for dinner before heading to our hotel for the night.

Now the coworker ended up only booking us a single hotel room. It had two beds and was probably the best option with how many people we had but it still felt weird since it was a couple and then me and a random guy I'd never met. At first I thought I was going to have to sleep in the same bed as the friend, but us two girls ended up sharing a bed while the guys shared the other.

Saturday morning we made a quick trip to the beach and then headed back to the hotel room to shower and change before grabbing lunch in town. Seeing the friend with his shirt off, made me realize he was actually quite fit. If it weren't for my boyfriend, I could see myself being really interested in him.

Back at the hotel the coworker and his fiance planned to shower first and then to walk around the streets near the hotel while the friend and I got ready. While they were each showering, I checked my phone to see if my boyfriend had texted back. That morning I had texted him good morning along with some pictures of the beach. Old habits were hard to break and I wanted to share with him. I could see he had read the messages but he never responded... Trying to push that out of my mind, I hopped in the shower.

When I got out, I realized that I had been so focused on my boyfriend that I had forgotten to bring a change of clothes to the bathroom with me. I wrapped myself with a towel before coming out.

Stepping into the room, the coworker and his fiance had already left and the friend was lounging in a chair on his phone. I tried not to look, but I could see the outline of his cock beneath his trunks. Looking up, I told him I had forgotten my clothes and that he should hop in the shower so I could change. I could practically see the dots connecting in his head as he realized that I was naked beneath my towel. As he stood up, I could see his bulge growing beneath his swim trunks.

I could feel myself getting turned on. He was an attractive guy and I hadn't had a ton of action recently since my boyfriend and I had been doing long distance. Plus, my boyfriend seemed to be taking our break seriously so I figured I should do the same. As he took a step towards me and the bathroom, I casually dropped the corner of my towel exposing one of my nipples. I apologized but didn't pull the towel back up.

He took another step toward me before we started aggressively making out. I let the towel drop to the floor as his hands explored my naked body. I reached down and felt his bulge beneath his trunks. Taking this as a hint, he pulled his trunks down releasing his hard cock. Still making out, I started to jerk him off while he grabbed my ass. I typically like to suck a guy off before fucking, but I just wanted to get fucked again and knew we had to hurry before my co-worker and his fiance got back.

I laid down on the edge of the bed, spreading my legs wide and told him to fuck me. He needed no invitation and gladly shoved his hard cock inside my pussy and started fucking me. It had been a while since I had been fucked because of the long distance and even longer since I had been fucked by anyone besides my boyfriend. It felt so good to feel a cock inside me again and I was moaning almost immediately.

Before we could finish, my coworker abruptly walked in the room announcing that he forgot his wallet. He froze in his steps... There I was, his coworker, lying naked on the edge of the bed with his best friend balls deep inside me with his trunks still at his knees... There was no way to hide what we were doing...

He quickly apologized and left the room while we put our clothes back on. When I checked my phone, I had a text message from my boyfriend apologizing for not texting back. Apparently he had to take his dog to the vet that morning. I felt so bad that I was getting fucked by a stranger while he was worried about his dog, but the sex felt so good...

Thankfully, the coworker played it off and didn't say anything of what he saw, and despite my noble intentions, the rest of the weekend became quite fun because it became a game of teasing between the friend and myself. Ultimately, I ended up blowing him on the beach and letting him cum on my face and then fucking in the hotel bathroom while my coworker and his fiance were out shopping. We figured it would be harder for them to walk in on us there.

My boyfriend and I got back together again shortly after this but I still went on a couple more beach trips with friends. 😈

[foreverlittlesoshi]

the bondage of freedom

noah sebastian x reader

content warnings: smut, oral (f. receiving), fingering, sacrilegious, purity, dom! noah and bulge kink

word count - 1.7k

MINORS DNI 18+

an - i have no knowledge of religion as i didn't grow up with it so i truly apologize if i offend you but this idea has been stuck in my head for a good while.

there’s nothing wrong with feeling this way, noah told himself, it’s just a damn crush.

but he knew he had no chance with you at all, i mean you two were complete opposite of each other. while he was covered in tattoos, you had no ink littering your skin. he only ever wore dark colors, you wore bright and neutral colors. the only jewelry he wore were rings that adored his long inked fingers, while you wore a gold cross necklace along with a gold purity ring that wrapped around your left ring finger that you’ve worn since the age of 15. he remembers the day he had asked you about it.

“why do you always wear that ring? i’ve never seen you take it off or remove it once.”

“oh, it’s my purity ring! my parents gifted it to me for my birthday.” you told him while admiring it, “it’s my pledge to wait until marriage.”

he couldn’t help but scoff, “you really believe in all that waiting till marriage bullshit?”

“i mean, yeah. i’d rather focus on my schooling and career before having sex. in plus, i wanna wait for the right person who is gonna love me for the rest of my life instead of just using me for something sinful. wouldn’t you agree?” you question him.

“just because my dad is the priest doesn’t mean i’m innocent. that went away a couple months ago.” he informed you and you looked away from him.

“well, congratulations on that but that’s not something i wanna do.” you told him quietly.

he felt bad for making you uncomfortable back then but he was just trying to prove a point. he feels bad even now because he couldn’t control his thoughts when it came to you. you were sitting right beside him wearing a lilac floral cami dress with a white cardigan and black mary janes, the neckline kept you covered but for any reason if the dress was tugged down he would be able to see your cleavage and that made his mind spiral.

the service had ended about 20 minutes ago so there wasn’t a lot of people left in the chapel and you said something to him but he was so lost in thought that he didn’t hear you. as you stood up, he got the great idea to trip you though it was risky but he just wanted a peek and he got just what he wanted as you fell. the sight of lacy black underwear took him by surprise while his cock hardened fast though it didn’t last long as you quickly tugged your dress down when you stood up.

“noah! why did you do that?!” you quietly yelled at him, he had to restrain himself before he was a little too honest with you.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t realize i put my foot out.” his false sympathy was evident in his voice but you just sighed and made your way out of the chapel into the corridor. he waited a few minutes then got up to follow you. he couldn’t hold back anymore especially if he was gonna be able to get you alone somewhere.

when he saw you exit the restroom, he started walking towards you and you noticed him immediately though it wasn’t hard to spot him.

“noah, are you okay? you’ve been acting weird all day.” the innocence in your voice almost made him cum right then and there.

“yeah, i just need to see you on my cock hun.” your body froze at his words, face turning pink and your eyes wide at him. “c’mon. i know you’ve never done anything but do you really wanna until marriage when i could make you feel good. forget all that bullshit for once and just trust me.”

of course you found noah attractive but you couldn’t imagine that he wanted you and with how much you would be on his case with not following the right path, you thought he would’ve dropped you by now. not to mention, you have gotten off to the thought of him a couple times.

“fine, i trust you noah.” you swore you could feel the purity ring burning your skin after you spoke those words.

“good girl. now, meet me back in the chapel at midnight. keep this dress on as well.” he told you as he kissed your cheek and walked away.

what did you just agree to?

-

you felt nauseous as you walked into the chapel, you wanted to be here but you were just nervous since you didn’t know what to expect with what would happen.

“i’m glad you didn’t back out.” the sound of noah’s voice startled you.

“of course i did. i told you that i trusted you.” you told him as you walked towards the podium.

when you got close enough, he made you lean back on the podium as he began kissing you but it didn't last long since he moved his lips to your neck which caused goosebumps to rise all over your body. he grabbed a fist full of your hair tugging it as he dragged his tongue up your neck till he reaches your ear then lightly bites and you let out a whimper at feeling.

noah then fell to his knees before you, pushing your dress up to see you were still wearing those lacy black underwear and he couldn’t hold back a smirk as he tugged them off of you then quickly shoved them into his pocket as a trinket to remember this.

“no one can be this cute.” he murmurs to himself as he stares at your slick heavenly cunt, leaning in to start lapping it up with his hot tongue melting against you then spreading you open with his thumbs while an overwhelming ecstasy flows through your body starting from your toes all the way up to your head with hot pleasure mainly in your belly.

“oh god, noah!” you cry out as he wrapped his lips around your clit then began to suck and lick while your thighs trembled against his head and tangled your fingers in his hair.

“there’s no god here to save you, sweetheart. just me. accept me as your god and cum for me now.” he commanded as he slid his long middle and ring finger into you. the curling of his fingers inside of you causes you to forget everything as you feel the hot bliss in your body explode and you let out a loud moan of his name. he moves away to stand back over you while sucking his fingers clean of your slick as fight off tears of embarrassment since you enjoyed the sight of him.

noah made you rest your back against the podium again as he pulled his pants down to expose himself and you immediately felt intimidated by the size of his cock.

“wanna taste?” noah asked as he noticed how hard you were staring at him.

you quickly nodded at him, he dragged his finger along his tip to gather precum and then brought it towards your lips. your lips wrapped around his finger carefully with your tongue licking his cum up, it was sweet but slightly salty and it may have been a sin but you loved the flavor of him. noah watched you with hooded eyes as he slowly took his finger out of your mouth while you whined at him and he pulled you into a kiss, his tongue grazing over your teeth which you could still taste yourself on. it was supposed to be nasty but it felt so amazing.

“you’re so fuckin disgusting for letting me do this to you.” he groans as he pulls away from you.

“we shouldn’t be doing this in general.” you inform him as you run your hand down his body.

“it’s gonna feel amazing, doll. don’t worry. i can’t fuckin wait to ruin you and feel how tight this pussy is.” the sound of his voice causes you to shiver with pleasure and he removes his shirt then stuffed it into your mouth.

“just to be safe.” is all he says as he lines himself to the slick mess between your thighs.

noah slides in with no resistance, he tries to take it slow but the feeling of your tight walls causes him to thrust into you fully and the shirt muffles your scream. slowly pulling out just to go right back in which causes your head to fall back and mind to go blank. “are you really a woman of god if i was able to convince you this easily to sin?” he removes the shirt from your mouth which lets you finally moan loudly at the pleasure of him pushing your thighs further apart letting him reach even deeper if possible.

“oh fuck, noah. i’ve never felt like this before.” you whine at him as he accentuated each hard thrust against the podium, feeling the wood dig into your back.

“because your god can’t give you pleasure like i can. i knew this is what you needed so let me be your only god.” noah tells you.

“i will.” you whimper as you cry at the feeling of him speeding up, his hand grabbed yours then made you feel your stomach and your head fell back as you could feel his cock through your stomach which caused you to clench around him harder. he barely touched your clit which finally let you cum, crying with whines escaping your mouth and moan. the rough and bruising grip he had on your thighs felt amazing as he shuddered and faltered while sucking on your neck as he came inside you.

as he pulled out and let you go, you moaned and opened your eyes only to be met with the sight of the statue of christ staring down at you as the feeling of cum dripped out of you and down your legs.

“don’t move.” noah then spoke as he pulled his phone out, snapping a picture of your completely fucked out and ruined body. dress pulled up, hair disheveled, face red with tears still streaming down your face and his cum still dripping out of you.

“noah.” you groan out, he puts his phone away then helps you straighten yourself up and himself as well.

he gives you a soft kiss before saying, “so? am i worthy of being your god now, sweetheart?”

title comes from heaven by taemin which inspired this whole idea along with the hell i overcame mv

i already know i'm going straight to hell so don't even bother telling me.

[thosewickedlovelies]

Crossroads: the second meeting | Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: The second of your and Joel’s promised three meetings. And third, and fourth, and…?

Tags: we’ve got INTRIGUE, we’ve got ~demonic temptation~ (consensually), we’ve got getting caught in the rain 👀; it’s all happening. demon!Joel; not an age gap fic. Reader has their period in one scene, but honestly aside from that we’re still a GN!Reader.

Words: 6,717

Note: We are IN IT now babes okay I promise, if you thought the first meeting was boring just forget about it and read this one 😌🙏🏼

Crossroads | Moodboard | Masterlist

No matter how you angled, jiggled, or cajoled it, your front door key remained firmly stuck in its lock. With a deep sigh, you rested your forehead against the painted wood, and you thought of Joel. Right now your greatest desire was to be inside your house; you wondered what price he would demand to grant your wish.

“You rang?”

Gasping, you spun around. Your heart slammed in your chest. “Jesus! Joel! What the fuck!”

In the hallway behind you, Joel came to a stop. He put his hands up, a chuckle rolling out of him. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. Could sense you wishin’ for my company, that’s all.”

“I wasn’t wishing for your company.” Lingering adrenaline sharpened your tongue, and the words sliced from it before you could consider who you were talking to. “I was wishing for your powers, so they could give me a damn working door.”

In the dim hall, It was hard to read the glimmer in his golden eyes. “Whatever you say, kitten.” Joel nodded toward the door, and it swung inward.

You scrambled after it, but the key remained firmly stuck in the lock.

You sent him a disbelieving look.

Joel shrugged innocently. “What? You didn’t say permanently working. You gotta be specific with these things.”

You took a deep breath, very deliberately focusing all of your attention on easing the key free. Once it was, though, there was nothing to distract you from the reality: Joel was at your house. Finding you in town was one thing, but appearing outside your home…

You smothered your nervousness. “Do I need to invite you in like a vampire, or..?”

Joel shot you a dark look. “Funny.”

And then he was stepping over the threshold, and you were shutting the door behind him.

Your building had originally been a two-story house, but it had been modified so that the first and second floors were now two separate apartments. Some might call it small, but you preferred to think of it as cozy. It was the perfect size for your one person.

Joel’s wide shoulders seemed to fill the room.

He turned in a slow circle, observing everything. The extensive spice rack hanging over the pantry door. The lantern string lights stretching around the living room. The plant with long green arms splaying crazily out of its pot on the windowsill.

All the things that made you you. He ran those otherworldly eyes over all of it, taking it in- taking you in. His glance flickered toward the half-open door at the back- your bedroom- before returning. 

The silence gnawed at you. “So what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean, what am I doin’? We have a deal, remember? Three meetings?”

He didn’t use the word date this time.

“I mean…why are you at my house?”

“Didn’t know you were home.” Joel smirked. “I pop up wherever you are. Wouldn’ta known where you lived otherwise.”

You sighed.

“Nice little place you got here…Kitten.”

The way he purred Ruby’s nickname sent goosebumps racing down your neck. You whipped your head toward him, glaring uncertainly.

Joel chuckled. “Been meanin’ to ask about that. Plain forgot by the end of our last meeting.”

You set your jaw. “By the end of our last date, you mean?” you said sweetly.

His mouth flattened. He held your gaze until you looked away.

“It’s not that exciting of a story.” You moved around as you spoke, setting your things in their usual places. “Um, do you want a drink or anything? I don’t have any whiskey, but I have other stuff, water, uh..”

“I’m-”

Joel cut off mid-sentence. You turned, and your brow furrowed. He’d gone rigid, his eyes wide and focused intensely on nothing, as if listening to a distant sound.

“...Joel?”

He blinked rapidly. “I gotta go. But I’ll be back.” His yellow eyes flashed to you with renewed clarity, and he pointed a warning finger. “This meeting ain’t over until I hear that story.”

Your vision warped strangely, like the affect of a heat shimmer, but magnified a hundred times. When you could see clearly again, Joel was gone. The bitter scent of scorched earth hung in the air.

“What the fuck?”

--

Three days had passed since Joel’s disappearance. Your bed was as welcoming on the third day as it had been on the previous two, but its comfort did little to alleviate your confusion. The house’s every little creak and sigh made you jump, thinking that it might be Joel appearing. You wondered, yet again, what on earth had pulled him away so abruptly before, and if he’d meant what he said- that when he came back, it would still be your second meeting, not your third.

A new book managed to quell your restless thoughts. You read until slightly too late- it couldn’t be helped- and yawned as you turned off your lamp. Sleep tugged you down…

Something thumped to the floor of the room. A heavy something. Your eyes flew open. Fear spiked through you at the shadow in the doorway- the large, human-shaped shadow.

But was the shape…familiar? A smoky scent tickled your nose. It couldn’t be. With a trembling hand, you reached for the lamp.

It was. Like a great, shadowy tree had suddenly sprouted in your room, Joel stood blinking in the light.

You sucked in air, ready to berate him for scaring the shit out of you- appearing in your bedroom in the middle of the night!- but something stopped you.

His eyes were bleary, their amber glint dull. Heavy, bruise-colored bags hung beneath them. His clothes looked unkempt, and his normally neat swoops of hair were disheveled and drooping. 

You swung your feet to the floor. “Joel?”

It took visible effort for him to focus. “Kitten,” he murmured. His gaze slid around the room like mercury in a glass, seeing but not really registering anything. The only thing that finally seemed to snag his attention was the beanbag chair beside your desk. It was adult-sized and teardrop-shaped, sitting upright in a mellow shade of teal. Joel swayed a step forward. 

“What are you…are you okay?” You stood, though you were unsure how you’d be able to help if he did something like collapse. 

“Sure I am. Just need to rest a second.” His words were heavy and blurred together. He made his way toward the beanbag with an exaggeratedly slow, squinty-eyed focus. He folded himself to the floor, the cushion ballooning beneath his weight. His head lolled against the upright back.

Your mouth hung open. “You can’t…sleep here..?” 

Joel scrubbed a hand over his face. “But if I’m here, I’m working.” The end of his sentence was split by an enormous yawn. “Won’t be bothered if I’m workin’,” he muttered. His whole body seemed to deflate.

A heartbeat later, a muffled snore rose from the beanbag. 

You stared in utter bewilderment at the unconscious demon on your floor. His body looked comically large spilling out of the beanbag chair; his legs stretched nearly halfway across the room. What the fuck were you supposed to do now? Sleep, while a representative of the devil sat not six feet from you?

You hesitated. Joel hadn’t given any indication that he wanted to harm you. It would be against his best interests, even, since then he definitely wouldn’t get a bargain at the end of your meetings. 

Even asleep, the furrows on his forehead haven’t relaxed. You laid back down, resolving to just…keep your eyes open…

--

You woke with a gasp. 

Your lamp was still on, your body was intact, and Joel…

Joel was asleep in your beanbag chair.

In the daylight he looked even worse. His clothes dusty and wrinkled, the lines on his face carved deeper than normal. He looked tired even while sleeping. 

And he was in your room.

The soft click of the lamp’s switch made you cringe. You didn’t dare make any greater noise or movement- there was no telling how he’d react to being woken suddenly in a strange place. 

Damn, you kind of had to pee, though. Surely you could tiptoe in and out of the room for that without waking him..?

Twin golden slits appeared- Joel’s eyes opened.

He sat straight up, his gaze darting all around. It found you, which seemed to dredge up the relevant memories, because after a tense moment of staring, he slumped back into beanbag. The alarm faded from his features. 

“Good morning,” you said cautiously.

Joel grunted. “Kitten.” His voice was a gravelly rasp. 

“Do you…remember coming here last night?”

His gaze flickered as he sifted through his memory. “Sorta.”

Words failed you. You wanted to ask him what the fuck happened, and also if he was okay or injured or anything, but you also didn’t want to provoke him. You didn’t know what his deal was- one-night stand etiquette hardly applied to this.

Joel pushed himself to his feet with a stiff slowness, like a toy without enough moving joints. “Well, I’ll get outta your hair. Thanks for lettin’ me crash here.”

“Wait!” You stood hastily. “Um- like, are you okay? Do you..need anything, like- breakfast, or…” 

He listened to your stuttering half-turned for the door. When you trailed off, Joel faced you again. His eyes were low candle flames, wavering as they dipped to your pajama shorts, but his face didn’t lose its suspicion. “What kind of breakfast?”

--

As soon as you said ‘coffee’, Joel had lit up.

Turned out he liked coffee almost as much as whiskey. But it was “harder to come by”, apparently. He hadn’t elaborated on that. Joel still looked kind of foggy, like all that was propelling him was the promise of breakfast food (or maybe the coffee), but you were betting on him perking up once he had some fuel in him. 

Joel seemed pleased by your choice of diner and its familiar, timeless fare. Waffles and pancakes, eggs and bacon…and most importantly, unlimited coffee. Holding a mug beneath his nose, he inhaled deeply; then sighed it out, looking more serene than you had ever seen him. 

Amused, you sipped your own coffee. It wasn’t anything to write home about- for that, you’d have taken him to Blackhammer, your favorite cafe- but you’d figured the food and atmosphere here would be more pertinent today. 

You waited until he’d inhaled half of his ‘Hungry Man Special’ to bring it up. “So…can I ask what happened?”

Joel froze mid-chew. He swallowed, then cleared his throat. “When I was last here, I got…called into the office, so to speak. There was some big ruckus, needed all hands on deck. That’s why I couldn’t come back for a few days. I got away by saying I had a deal in the works, couldn’t let it disappear. Probably shouldn’t have,” he muttered, his face darkening. “Could come back to bite me in the ass.” He shoveled more sunny-side-up eggs and sausage into his mouth.

“But why did you look so…you fell asleep on my floor, Joel.”

He shrugged.  “Life of a demon.” His smile was as bitter as the diner’s black coffee. He’d pulled some magic trick in your bathroom before leaving, so he looked physically refreshed- unwrinkled clothes, gray hair tidied- but exhaustion lurked in the lines around his eyes.

“Did you mean it when you said that our meeting wasn’t over? This is still our second meeting?”

“I’m a demon of my word- this meeting ain’t over ‘til I get that story, Kitten.” Joel’s spark seemed to have returned; he waggled his brows at you suggestively, his eyes flashing gold.

Your mouth twitched. You opened it to speak-

Joel cut you off. “But not now. I’m too tired to be able appreciate it.”

He kept his head bent to his plate. It took a moment for his meaning to land- but when Joel looked back up, you nodded.

--

Joel appeared fully back to his old self the next time you saw him, which was at the grocery store. It was utterly surreal to be grocery shopping with some kind of supernatural being by your side, but Joel strolled alongside your cart without any compunction, peering at the shelves and watching what you selected with avid interest. 

It was an insightful experience. You watched Joel ‘accidentally’ bump into one of the elementary school teachers in front of the strawberries and flirt until you thought the woman’s striped dress would melt right off her; he then followed you down the cereal aisle and made faces at a baby behind the father’s back. He shook his head at your selected brand of chili seasoning, examined every side of your container of matcha, and wrinkled his face in fascinated disgust at the range of Oreo flavors. 

All of it made you wonder. Joel never answered your question about how long he’d been a demon. He enjoyed Oreos, but didn’t know there were golden ones. He’d never seen an iPod Shuffle, but didn’t seem overly baffled by the capabilities of your smartphone. His speech sounded more or less modern. 

How old was Joel really? What would he think of your theory- that he’d become a demon like this because he’d sold his own soul?

--

The library’s busy hush was blissful. Peaceful yet thrumming with life and purpose, you always got your best work done here. Steam curled from the opening in your coffee cup, drifting past your laptop screen, barely registering in front of the lines of text rapidly appearing.

Somebody plunked a book down at the table space beside you. Your attention flickered. You’d be annoyed by the person in a minute, given the number of empty tables they could have chosen to sit at, but for now you typed on, determined to finish your train of thought.

You were about to glance over when someone’s mouth grazed your ear. “Working hard, kitten?”

You clapped a hand over your mouth to keep from yelping.

“Would you stop sneaking up on me every time you appear!” You snapped your head around to hiss the words, but that just put you inches away from a pair of familiar golden eyes, and your head reared back on instinct. 

Joel straightened up, shrugging archly. “Not my fault you’re unobservant.”

You scoffed. “I’m not unobservant, I’m working. I can’t play with you today, I have a deadline.”

His eyes gleamed as he spotted your coffee cup. “What’s this? ‘Blackhammer’.” Joel picked it up to read the label. Before you could stop him, he stole a sip.

His face contorted in disgust. “Jesus, what the hell’d you do to this? Can’t even taste the coffee.”

Stifling laughter, you carefully took the cup back from him. “That’s because it’s a hazelnut latte, not regular coffee.”

Joel smacked his mouth exaggeratedly, giving the cup a suspicious look. “I’m not sure I trust this place after tasting that.”

“They do have nice coffee roasts, they just also have basic bitch drinks.”

“Basic- what?” Joel looked mildly appalled, your choice of vocabulary finally pulling his attention from the coffee.

Your amusement warred with your annoyance. The ubiquity of memes and the breadth and variety of new, ever-evolving slang was one of things Joel had approximately zero knowledge of, as you discovered at the grocery store, after he asked if an advertisement was using ‘slay’ as a reference to ‘that vampire slayer chick’. Normally you were happy to explain things, but today you were busy.

“It’s just a descriptor, it’s not really an insult…anymore.”

Joel didn’t look like he believed you. “You’re in a library; go look it up.” You gestured to the bank of computers. His mouth crinkled dubiously. 

You sighed. “Look, give me like, 30 minutes. You can brush up on Urban Dictionary, and then I’ll take you to Blackhammer.”

Joel straightened, adopting a unaffected expression. “Naw, don’t worry about it. You can take me tomorrow, when you’re not workin’. Later, kitten.”

--

It was a twenty minute walk from your house to Blackhammer, but despite Joel’s declaration that the rain would hold off, you definitely just felt a drop hit your nose.

The clouds were dark and the breeze mischievous- not unlike the conditions of your first meeting. A sideways glance caught Joel’s yellow eyes glimmering back at you, confirming that he was remembering it, too.

He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he strolled. “Did you make your deadline yesterday?” 

Keeping one eye on the sky, you told him a little about your work. Ten minutes later, undeniable dark spots started to speckle the sidewalk. Joel scoffed- but when the speckles started to become patches, he was right behind you as you scurried under the nearest awning.

The skies opened. Rain poured down like someone had opened a tap over a colander. Thunder rumbled, though half-heartedly, as if to say that it could be a storm, if it wanted to, but it didn’t feel like it today.

Joel lifted his hands to ward off your pointed look. “Now, listen-”

“You insisted-!”

But you were laughing, and his grumbling was good-natured, and you waited companionably under the awning. Several people more prepared than you walked past holding umbrellas. 

After another ten minutes or so, the rain lightened- but not so much that it couldn’t still be called a downpour. The wind had fallen still, and the clouds gave the impression of settling in for a good long soak.

You glanced at Joel. “I don’t suppose you could magic us up an umbrella.”

Joel smirked. “I can do better than that.”

To your astonishment, he walked right out into the downpour. Your mouth opened to protest, but when he turned around, it closed- he was as dry as the sidewalk had been twenty minutes ago. There were no speckles on his shirt, no droplets beading on his hair. He spread his hands, looking smug.

“How did you do that?”

“I wanted to stay dry. Granted my own wish.” 

He hadn’t mentioned he could do that during your conversation at lunch. “Huh.”

Joel beckoned. “Come on. Your turn.”

After a moment’s hesitation, you stepped out into the rain.

And promptly got soaked. Cold and wet splashed you as suddenly as if you'd been hit by a couple of water balloons. You leaped back under the awning, swiping water from your face. “What the fuck, Joel!”

The bastard was laughing. Joel was bent at the waist, clutching his middle, crowing at his own little prank.

He straightened, wiping his eyes. “You shoulda seen your face,” he hooted. 

It was difficult to stay mad when he was suddenly, startlingly pretty, this man- this demon- with the lines on his face creased in laughter and humor sparkling in his sulfur-yellow eyes.

You gave it a try nonetheless. “You said you wanted us to stay dry!”

Joel’s grin didn’t fully fade. “I said I wanted to stay dry. Never said anything about you.” His eyes, still shimmering, glance down your body, dripping like rain over the clinging patches on your shoulders and chest.

You couldn't look away from him. The rain hissed down around you, a silvery curtain preserving the moment, blurring out the rest of the world. 

Joel’s eyes were as warm as sunlight in the distance. He held out his hand. “Alright, come on. I owe you now. My payment’ll be keeping you dry this time.”

You stepped up to the border of wet and dry on the sidewalk. Your arm stretched over the line…and stayed dry. 

You placed your hand in Joel’s. He tugged you out into the rain, and though he released your hand, not a drop touched you.

--

Coffee culture, you suspected, had not been as advanced the last time Joel had been in a cafe. Luckily, the other reason Blackhammer was your favorite palace was the baristas- they were patient, not pretentious, and cheerfully explained the various brewing options to Joel until he was satisfied with his choice. Now he sat and watched his single-origin pour-over brew with forced patience, glancing over disdainfully as you added several brown sugar cubes to your own mug.

As soon as the last drop fell from the filter, Joel was on it. One sip, and his face transformed- he lit from within, chuckling in pure disbelief. He admitted without any arm-twisting that it was worth the wait.

“Can I ask you something?” You didn’t want to to ruin the comfortable atmosphere, but your theory couldn’t wait any longer. 

Joel lowered his mug. “Meeting number two’s big question, huh? Fire away.” He looked resigned, but not annoyed, which you took as encouragement.

“Three dates, three questions,” you reminded him cheekily.

Rolling his eyes, Joel gestured impatiently.

“When I asked you before, about how long you’ve been a demon…you didn’t answer.” You snuck a look at him, but he sat stone-faced. “Will you answer it now?”

Joel took a deep, slow breath. “I’ve been a demon…for somewhere around twenty years.”

He didn’t volunteer many details, and you didn’t ask for them. He made a deal to save his family, and, he said, he’d do it again. His brimstone eyes flashed. 

“I was too scared to try and pull anything clever,” he admitted. “But I’ve learned a trick or two since then.”

“So, who…owns your soul?”

The furrow in Joel’s brow deepened. “The demon who made the deal with me, I suppose. I’d have to check the contract,” he said sardonically.

You phrased your next question very carefully. “If he didn’t own your soul anymore, what would happen to you?”

The full weight of Joel’s attention fell on you, his face a mix of serious and suspicious. “Depends on what he did with it. He could toss it with the rest, and I’d die like everyone else. He could give it to another demon, and I’d stay the same. I guess, theoretically…” You hardly dared to breathe.

“He could give it back to me. Then…well, I dunno really. It’s not exactly common practice.” Another eye roll. “But theoretically, that could mean I’d be a normal human again.”

“Can a normal human own another human’s soul?” You spoke casually, easily, hoping Joel would think you were just musing aloud as the thoughts occurred to you.

“I think that’s generally a no-no, unless they have access to some powerful magic.”

His golden gaze was scorching, his unspoken questions louder than your unconvincing casualness.

But you said nothing more on the subject.

“If you’ve only been a demon for twenty years, then is this your actual age?” You nodded toward his appearance, letting your mouth curve and your eyes sparkle with implication.

Blinking, Joel glanced down at himself. “Thereabouts. I haven’t changed the way I look since I was, uh. Recruited.” His gaze strayed into the distance, clearly still distracted.

“Could you?” you ask curiously.

“Some do.” Joel pushed his mug away abruptly. “I gotta go. Thanks for the coffee.” Shoulders hunched pensively, Joel walked all the way out of the cafe before vanishing.

--

You still hadn’t explained the ‘kitten’ thing, and it was driving you a little bit crazy. 

It’s not that you wanted to end your meetings. It’s just that it felt like unfinished business; like it was keeping you on uncertain ground. Every time Joel used the nickname, it jolted you- was this the moment when he wanted you to explain it? Was he hinting that he wanted the meetings to end?

And the way he used it. He’s made it his own, really. Or at least, you hoped he saw it that way. Joel certainly didn’t use the same inflection as Ruby when he said it.

“Kitten.” You heard it in his teasing voice, low and rough as a lion’s purr, and you shivered. Only when he said it did it sound like you were in a novel of a certain genre…

Oh, no.

Oh, no, this was not a romance novel. You couldn’t be having a crush on a demon.

…But he wasn’t just a demon. He was Joel.

You didn’t even know if it was possible for the two of you to have a future. Particularly given that, as Joel said, another demon owned his soul. Come to think of it, who would own your soul if you sold it? It should be Joel, you reasoned, because he would be the one making the deal. Now there was something to consider…

--

Joel coalesced, and the moment he saw the plant on the windowsill, he smiled.

The smile vanished, however, at what he saw next: your body prone on the sofa, your face pale and taut.

You groaned, curling in on yourself. “You know how I enjoy your company, Joel, but I’m not really up for making deals today. Come back tomorrow, or later tonight if it’s really urgent.”

It should bother him that you’re so unmoved by his presence. That you’re so comfortable blithely shooing away a demon with power like his, so sure that your artless dismissal will result in his disappearance. 

Joel felt not a whisper of annoyance. Instead, as your face contorted in a clear grimace of pain, he felt…anxiety.

“What…what’s wrong?”

“What?” You opened your eyes, seeming confused that he was still there. “Nothing, just period pains. It’s normal.” Your legs shifted restlessly. “You could pass me that bottle of painkillers before you go, though, if you’re feeling generous.” You nodded past him, toward the kitchen table.

Joel didn’t move. “Or, I could…make it go away.” He didn’t shift, didn’t fidget. Didn’t make any expression at all as the offer left his mouth.

“Uh-huh. At what price?” You laughed weakly. “It’s fine, Joel. Happens every month.”

“No price. A gift, freely given.” Joel was kneeling beside you before he was even aware of moving.

You drew a startled breath. The motion pulled at the aching muscles in your abdomen, and your face tightened again.

A ferocious need snarled to life inside Joel. He hadn’t felt anything with this strength in years. It burned through him, demanding his attention, forging pathways he’d thought long-atrophied. It brought everything into sizzling clarity, like- like-

Like having a soul again.

Joel’s hand hovered over your belly, so close to touching you could feel the warmth of him. “Say yes,” he said.

There was something fierce in his tawny eyes, in the set of his mouth- something you didn’t dare interpret. You nodded.

Joel rested his hand on your abdomen- and the pain faded away. 

“Ohhhh.” Your whole body relaxed, and you released a great sigh. You gripped Joel’s wrist without thinking, keeping that sensation there. It was like a warmth, but also something else- not just the absence of pain, but the presence of pleasure, a sweet, honeyed glow emanating through your lower belly and into the rest of your body. 

Joel’s pinkie finger rested on a sliver of skin exposed by your top. The pleasure seemed sweetest there, the richest feeling originating from that tiny length of skin-to-skin contact. As the pain receded and your presence of mind returned, the concept of Joel’s skin on yours became all the more remarkable.

“Joel.” You looked up, intending to say more, but the look on his face stopped you. It was hard but satisfied, the ferocity of earlier gentled. His eyes were the same color, though- tawny-amber, like a mountain cat’s.

You swallowed. “Thank you.”

Joel nodded. He gently extracted his hand from your grip, and the loss of that feeling left a cold hollow. You made a tiny, involuntary sound.

Joel stood, wincing as his knees cracked. Maybe he hadn’t altered his outer or inner workings, like he’d said at Blackhammer. Knowing that his beauty was all-natural was strangely dizzying, overwhelming, and not something you needed to be fixating on right now…

“Get some rest, honey. This meeting ain’t over.”

Your mouth quirked even as your eyelids drooped. As you fell asleep in his presence for the second time, Joel allowed himself a small smile, and then vanished. 

--

“I told you this farmer’s market was good.” Your door unlocked without the slightest struggle; pleased, you made your way inside.

Joel closed the door behind him, satisfaction flickering across his face. He followed you to the kitchen table, watching you unload your purchases. “It was good, I just thought the Sunday one was better, is all.”

“Well, yeah, the weekend ones are always bigger. The Wednesday one is calmer, though…”

Joel had to concede that. The town’s Sunday market had been bustling, with crowds so thick they funneled like molasses, in a slow-moving stream. Once he got used to the noise and the sensation of being gently buffeted about, though, he’d started to enjoy himself. All the smells in the air and the range of goods on offer. Today’s market, though slightly smaller, had a more local feel- the vendors could actually hear each other across their stands, and called greetings and inquiries about lives and jobs.

Several enormous peaches now sat in a basket in the center of the table. With an expression of relish, you plucked one out and went to the sink to wash it. 

A question you asked several dates ago was turning slowly around and around in Joel’s mind. It had lodged in his thoughts the day you’d asked it, growing into a ponderous yet inescapable vortex that was now on the verge of sucking him in. He was usually reluctant to use his gift, but something had its teeth in him- something he didn’t care to examine too closely. You had asked for it…

Returning with your peach, you sent him a quizzical look. “You look like you’re thinking about something.”

“Do you remember at our first meetin’, at lunch, when you asked me if I could show you the…’tempting’ that I can do?”

The hand holding the peach paused halfway to your mouth. “...Yes.”

“I could show you now, if you want.”

Your arm lowered. “Okay,” you agreed.

Joel held out his hand. You stared at him, bemused, until he nodded toward your uneaten snack. Nerves fizzed in his fingertips as your hand neared, as the downy skin of the peach met his palm. 

He held it up. The fruit was nearly as big as his fist, which was saying something. “You want this peach?”

“I did,” you replied, amused and intrigued.

Joel turned and made his way to the couch, sinking into one end. He waved the peach at you again. “How bad?”

Only slightly wary, you followed, sitting opposite him on the couch. “Not bad enough to fight you for it, if that’s what you mean.”

Joel shifted to face you. His attention burned, as unavoidable as a desert sun. Looking at you intently, he tilted his head. “What about now?”

All at once, the peach looked like the most delicious thing you’d ever seen. It seemed to glow in the afternoon light, a fragment of summer itself in Joel’s hand. The rosy flesh was near to bursting with syrupy juice; all you could think about was how dry your throat felt.

Joel brought the peach to his lips. You were transfixed by the sight of his teeth piercing the skin; the wet sound of the flesh as it parted; his mouth and throat working as he slurped at the juice. 

Joel’s mouth glistened. “Do you want this peach?” He held it toward you, offering it like the precious gift it was.

You leaned forward, your knee touching Joel’s. The low rumble of his voice reverberated in your chest; your eyes darted back and forth between his face and the fruit. The peach’s fragrance, thick and floral, floated in the air. “Yes.”

“What would you trade for it?” Joel lifted the peach to his mouth again.

“Wait!” you cried. “Um-” You looked around wildly. In your frantic, clumsy haste to find something, you toppled forward.

You planted your hand on Joel’s chest to stop yourself. He sat unmovable, solid and warm. The woodsmoke scent of him threaded through the sweetness in the air. You lifted your eyes to his- his gorgeous eyes, golden like honey, like sunlight. His mouth was lush and wet as the fruit you’d all but forgotten about. Your interest in the peach was fleeting, a drop in the bucket compared to your desire for-

“Stop.”

The vitality of the moment faded. After a few fraught seconds, everything seemed slightly less…vibrant, somehow. Joel’s mouth was a flat line, his jaw tense. He didn’t move. 

Slow and cautious, you sat back, your brow furrowed. You remembered everything that had just happened, but the thought process behind your actions was less clear. 

You eyed the peach, wondering where its appeal had gone. “What did you…”

“I didn’t do anything. I asked if you wanted the peach. My powers did the rest.”

Joel’s powers. His aura of temptation, convincing you that what you wanted most in the world was perfectly within reach. Until…

Your face felt like it might burst into flames. “And then…”

“And then you got distracted,” Joel said shortly.

He set the peach on the coffee table and stood. “I’m late for something. I gotta go.” For once he left through the door, rather than vanishing in his uncanny way.

Your apartment felt strangely empty without him taking up so much space in it.  

Your cheeks blazed with heat beneath your palms. What just happened?

Joel said you’d gotten distracted. But his powers didn’t create desires, only amplified existing ones. Which meant…

You stood suddenly, overcome with the strength of your realization.

And Joel knew.

--

The ground Joel trod was uneven rock, but his mind was nowhere near his feet. It was back in your apartment, frozen in the exact moment he felt your desire shift, its focus change. 

To him.

It couldn’t be. But it was. He knew exactly what his powers could and couldn’t do, and they couldn’t put that fire in your eyes without a spark. 

Joel’s hands shook and his blood raced, propelling him toward the meeting place fast enough that he would no longer be late. He’d give himself away, but it didn’t matter. Tess was waiting.

--

A small crowd was already waiting at the crossing. You fell in at the back, using the wait to dig in your bag for chapstick. When the crowd started forward, you looked up.

Joel was standing on the other side.

You froze. People flowed around either side of you. In your indecision, the crossing light changed from green to red again.

It’s been 48 hours since you’ve seen Joel. Since his powers lifted the veil on your desire for him, bringing it into the light for you both to feel. 

Your eyes locked onto him. He stood as inscrutable as ever, hands in his pockets, his hair glinting silver in the light. He jerked his head in a summoning motion.

That was more like the irritating demon you knew. That familiar combination of annoyance and trepidation gave you the courage to cross the street.

Silently, he fell into step beside you. You walked slowly, both of you gathering your thoughts.

“That ice cream place you mentioned, when we went to lunch. Is it open now?”

It was so beyond anything you might have expected that you stopped, right in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“What?”

Joel paused a few steps later, turning his head, and then the rest of his body, back toward you. “The ice cream place. Is it open right now?” he repeated.

The gears of your mind turned stickily, slow to catch up. “Um…I think so.”

“Can we go?” Joel looked at you expectantly.

“Right now?”

Joel huffed in exasperation. “Yes, kitten. Right now. You feelin’ okay?”

“Sure, yeah, um…” Your thoughts juddered into motion again. “Just, it’s this way.” You pointed back the way you’d come. 

The line at the nearby ice cream place was long. You weren’t surprised. Neither was anyone else, it seemed. Families and couples waited without complaint, enjoying the balmy weather. You and Joel joined the end, still mostly silent. It wasn’t awkward, exactly. More…unsure.

“If I pay for this,” Joel finally said, “will you tell me the story behind your nickname?”

Oh. You didn’t answer for a long moment, your mind ticking. “Yes,” you said.

Joel nodded once, his face mostly stoic, and yet…not. You couldn’t put your finger on any specific emotion. Only that he didn't seem...satisfied, as if he wasn't quite convinced by his own course of action.

“Why do you even still have money?” you asked. 

Joel rolled his eyes. “To buy my victims ice cream, of course.” He gave you a sidelong glance, before stepping forward to peer at the menu.

You shook your head, looking away to hide a smile.

You expected to feel sad. Disappointed, about the idea that Joel wanted to end your second meeting and start your third and final one.

But you just couldn’t.

You couldn’t feel sad when Joel was still cracking lame jokes and suppressing smiles at your grudging laughter. You couldn’t feel worried that you fucked everything up when he handed you your ice cream cone with easy care, letting your fingers brush for a prolonged moment. You couldn’t fear that he wanted to end things when he asked if you had any plans for the local holiday next weekend; as if he paid attention, as if he cared. 

“Nah,” you answered. You didn’t notice Joel’s golden eyes flicker as you busily chased a trickle of melting ice cream with your tongue. “Well, I mean yes, but they’re the same as everyone else’s. Go out, get drunk, have a good time.”

“Where’s your favorite place?”

“What, to go out? The Chameleon, probably.” Your eyes closed to savor your ice cream.

The Chameleon was a place you’ve mentioned before. It was sort of a bar and a club stuck together, but the setup worked for everyone- especially the bar, whose patrons only needed to head into the back to ramp up their night out. You'd said the 'vibes' there were always good, which Joel thought sounded a bit retro, but which you assured him was currently modern slang again.

“Any good times planned?”

You sent Joel a curious glance. “Some, for sure, but they’re more open-ended plans.”

Joel looked away, across the lot full of picnic tables and families with their sweet treats, and concentrated on his cone. The height of his ice cream swirl steadily shrank, until finally it was level with the top of the cone. “So,” he said. “Kitten.”

You froze, a mouthful of ice cream half-melted on your tongue. You swallowed quickly, shivering as the cold caught in your throat. “Kitten,” you agreed.

The memory made you smile. Nostalgia tangled with a twinge of inevitable sadness as you finally told the story that had held the end at bay for so long.

“I was hired at Ruby’s right before Halloween. Normally Ruby meets all the new hires herself, but she was away that year for some reason. So I didn’t meet her until the day of Halloween. I was wearing a headband with little cat ears on it- employees were allowed to dress up, but I’d only just started, so I didn’t wanna do anything crazy- so the headband was my only ‘costume’, but Ruby comes in and she looks at me and goes ‘Well, who’s this little kitten?’”

Joel could hear it in Ruby’s exact tone. You laughed, shaking your head, and continued. “She just called me ‘kitten’ for the rest of the night- for the rest of the week. She did eventually learn my name, but it was too late by that point. Everyone else there started calling me 'kitten', too, and it just stuck

You shrugged, darting a glance at Joel. “I told you it wasn’t that exciting.”

“Maybe.” Waffle cone crunched between his teeth. “You mind that I use it?”

You looked up in surprise. “No.”

Joel’s eyes were bright, the yellow as defiant as dandelions. He popped the end of the cone in his mouth with relish and sucked the ice cream off his fingers. “Good,” he said. “Kitten.”

---

Thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist

[storytowrite]

|You will always be mine ~ Lee Minho series|

PART 14

Paring: Minho x Y/N

Genre: smut, angst, university au

Word count: 1364

Warnings: sex, 18+, Minho is a psycho, dom!Minho, sub!reader, abuse, slight BDSM, kidnapping, violence, age gap, Minho is an university professor, Y/N can be hurt physically (and mentally too I guess).

Synopsis: Who knew that accidental fuck in the club bathroom with a handsome man will bring you to a lot of unexpected events.

Author's note: I kept this series for a really long time not sure if I want to post it or not, but I decided to do it anyway, so I hope you'll like it.

——————————

It's been a month since you moved away from Minho. Since then, you had no contact with him other than at the university. Lee Minho still remained your lecturer. The denunciation you filed didn't change much - Minho was interrogated, police officers even came to the university and interviewed other female students, but it didn't do anything. 

Minho knew perfectly well that it was you who had filed the complaint against him. He also knew that the idea was suggested to you by Jeno, but he was not angry with you. He knew he deserved it, and yet he couldn't stop thinking and fantasizing about you. About your body, your touch, the moans you made when he gave you pleasure. He wanted you to come back to him, so that you could be together again. He was willing to do anything to fulfill that desire. Even if it involves forcing it on you. 

The day was rainy and chilly. You went shopping, to a nearby market, but you forgot your umbrella, and the clothes you were wearing - short shorts and an oversized hoodie - did not add to your warmth at all. You were returning with a bag full of shopping when a black car with tinted windows drove past you. You did not initially pay attention to it. It wasn't until the third time the same vehicle came within your sight that you freaked out.

The car finally stopped when you stood in front of the lanes, at a red light. It began to rain harder and thunder could be heard in the distance. The storm was approaching the city. You jumped up slightly in your seat when you heard another thunder, and the car window lowered. 

“Hey, Y/N.” You heard the familiar voice of your lecturer. “Why don't I drop you off? You're all wet...” 

“Ehm.... No need Mr. Lee...” You replied confused and even more stressed.

“Oh come on, I know you don't like thunderstorms, get in.” He opened the door for you from inside. You thought for a moment, but got inside. In fact, you were all wet and cold.

“Thank you.” You said quietly. 

Minho just nodded to you and took off. He closed the car imperceptibly from the inside so that you would not get out of it so quickly. In fact, you lived not far away, but the man took a longer route that you did not associate - he just wanted to stay with you a little longer. 

“Ekhm... Minho... I mean, Mr. Lee... this is probably not the way to go.” You began uneasily, breaking the awkward silence. 

“The main road is closed due to this rain, so we're going around.” He explained without taking his gaze off the roadway. 

“Mhm...”

“You don't have to be afraid of me Y/N, you know very well that I won't hurt you...” Minho began. 

“Well, I don't know, last time...”

“Last time I got a little carried away.” The man said, interrupting you in mid-sentence. “And for that I would like to apologize to you. Actually I overreacted...”

He was answered by silence. You didn't know what you should say or how to behave around him. A month has passed since your last interaction. A month in which you were both angry with him and missed him. 

“I wish...” Minho continued. “I wish you would come back to me... A month is a long time, don't you think?”

“I don't know... We really shouldn't. You're still my lecturer and...”

“Somehow it didn't bother you before.” He replied firmly. A gentle annoyance could be heard in his voice.

“Well, yes, but we shouldn't have either before...” You defended yourself. 

“But it didn't bother you, so why does it bother you now?” He asked and put his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly. “Pretty much, you liked it a lot before.” He began to make circles on your bare skin with his thumb. “I would very much like to get back to the way things were between us before.”

“Minho, stop...” You grabbed his hand and removed it from your thigh. The man clenched his jaws, he didn't like the fact that you were refusing him. “We won't go back to the way things were... ever.”

“ No? And why is that?” He asked a little more sharply than he had planned. 

“Because it shouldn't happen, understand that.”

“Well, but I don't understand.” He muttered. “And what are you going to do about it now? Are you going to file another complaint against me?”

“Y-you know it was me?”

“I wasn't sure, but now I am.” He lied. “Why did you do it, huh Y/N?” He asked, and his hand returned to your thigh again. He squeezed you tighter than he intended, at which you let out a quiet moan. 

“I...” You started but didn't know what you should answer him yourself. You swallowed your saliva, and his hand began to move higher and higher up your thigh. 

“You what, hm?” He asked, turning the car into one of the alleys. He continued to massage your skin with his thumb, causing a slight goosebump. “Did you think they would catch me like this? That they would lock me up in jail? That you would get away from me?”

“ W-what...? Minho it's not like that, I just...” You started, not knowing what to answer completely. 

“You just what? Hm? What kitten, have you suddenly run out of words?” He asked with a slight smile. 

Before you knew it, Minho had turned off the car's engine, stopping in a dark alley, and the back of the seat you were sitting on was laid down. The man pushed back your seat as far as possible and unbuckled your seatbelt. Before you knew it, your hands were tied with the seatbelt just above your head. And although for him, the position you were in was completely uncomfortable, due to the small amount of space, he still couldn't complain.

The sight of you completely defenseless and bound beneath him excited him greatly. You looked up at him with big eyes.  Minho leaned over you slightly. 

“I miss you, you know?” He whispered in your ear and moved his hand over your cheek, pushing back a strand of hair.

“Minho... please.” You whispered quietly terrified. 

“What are you asking for, kitten?” His sensual voice had a mesmerizing effect on you. He gently ran his soft lips from your ear to your collarbone. “You don't even know how much I would like to take advantage of this situation right now... But no, it's not time yet.” He added and moved away from you, returning to his seat. The car's engine started running again. However, you continued to remain strapped down. 

“Untie me.” You said after a while breaking the silence. 

“Hm... no.” He replied with a slight smile. 

“Minho, untie me.” You repeated nervously and tugged at your belt. You didn't know by what miracle he managed to tie you with it so that you could barely move your hands. 

“I'm not going to... we're going to my place.” He replied calmly.

“What, but I...”

“You have nothing to talk about, kitten. I already told you, you are mine and mine alone.”

He decided to take you to his place. To his property outside the city, which, apart from him and his friend Han, no one knew about. The position you were in was so uncomfortable that you didn't realize where he was actually taking you. 

On the one hand, you were afraid of him. You didn't know what he would do with you. You were afraid that he would go further and hurt you. But on the other hand, even though you didn't want to admit it, you missed him as much as he did. And a month without his touch was a torture for you. He had made you dependent on him and didn't even realize it. Or at least that's what you thought. However, only Lee Minho knew what it was really like. 

You sighed heavily. It's going to be a long night, you thought. Because you hoped it would be just one night....

——————————

<- Part 13 | Part 15 ->

-> Series Masterlist

Taglist: @yaorzu-blog, @iovecb97, @hpnsfwaddict, @syedazarintasnim, @palindrome969, @biujulia @inlovewithstraykids

[ell-vellan]

A random collection of Veilguard Thoughts after completing the game, because I need to vent some feelings. spoilers below!

Firstly: I was going to love this game regardless. I came into it with the fewest amount of spoilers possible. I do love this game. I won't argue with anyone - if we have different opinions, that's fine! I won't tolerate hate, though.

This is my messy stream of consciousness, but let's start with the good stuff!

The Good:

-Gameplay was fun! Combat was fun and inventive, for someone who plays on Storyteller mode and tries to get through combat as fast as possible so I can get back to the story, it rarely aggravated me.

-The maps/puzzles are fun. They were usually easy enough to figure out on my own without looking it up, but just complex enough I felt smart when I got it. I like that the game almost always rewards you for looking around and exploring off the beaten path a bit.

-It felt like a spiritual successor to Mass Effect 2 in the way that you have to build your team up in order to save the world. I loved that.

-The griffons coming back is one of the best things in the Dragon Age universe ever, and I love that we could decide what to do with them. (But I'm kind of concerned that there's only 12, and they're...related? I feel like that's not enough individuals to grow the species back...)

-Letting us pet and hug Assan (with different animations!) over and over was one of the best things they ever did. Also, photo mode was a great idea.

-The little hints about Those Beyond The Sea we keep getting?! Dear God, I hope we get another game and get more lore. I'm dying to know. They've teased this for so long, I really, really wanna know what's up with this part of the world.

-i loved being able to choose our body proportions.

-I'm so thankful we got to make our Inquisitor and keep the same vallaslin and voice actor. I hate the outfit they gave them and how we had no choice in it, and I would have also preferred to have a choice in their prosthetic, but I'm grateful for what we did get. The missives from them were also a nice touch, and seeing the letter from the Inquisitor's love interest was SO HEALING. Tbh, in reality, I think the Inquisitor would have been involved WAY more, especially since the crossroads would have made travel basically instant across Thedas. But I get why Rook needed to stand on their own two feet.

-Morrigan/Mythal was a great touch. It made sense logically, there was character growth, and I'm glad Mythal wasn't gone entirely, but I wish we could know what's become of Kieran.

-All the VAs are so good. the world felt lush, magical, twisted, and fun, with just the right amount of tragedy and horror balanced with hope and love. Arlathan was gorgeous and tragic and horrific and I took SO MANY photos.

-we got more Dalish and more Qunlat words!!

-THE LORE. So many questions finally answered. I kind of thought we would learn that the Black City was actually the prison Solas made for the gods, but hey, maybe next time? I also still want to know if Andraste was real and more about the origins of elves as spirits, but alas...

-i loved the inventory system. I wish we could have sold equipment we didn't need instead of just the valuables, but it's a minor quibble. It was so much easier to manage, I didn't have to waste a bunch of time going through everything to find the best items for everyone

-ARCHON DORIAN PAVUS !! He was barely in the game which made me sad, but the fact that he was there at all and so glorious was wonderful. I wonder if people new to the game know or care about the significance of him being in charge of Tevinter, though, since we didn't even really get to have a conversation with him

About Solas:

I played thru DAI on release day. My first Inquisitor romanced him. When Everything Happened(tm) I was PISSED. I wanted revenge on Solas, I wanted to hunt him down. I've thought about him for 10 years, and now I am so wistful for more of him. I want to give him a hug. Moreover I want Lavellan to hug him.

Solas was INCREDIBLE in this. I loved, loved getting to see his memories firsthand - this was more than I'd hoped for - and the banter with Rook was one of the best parts of the game. Seeing him with hair - seeing him change into Fen'harel and fight a DRAGON? him helping us in the fade by baiting Elgar'nan and getting all bloody and beat up trying to help us, thinking he was going to trick us one final time? My wildest dreams came true. He was layered, he was complex, he was incredibly heroic and sympathetic and tortured and clever and absolutely ruthless. He was at turns heartbreakingly sincere and infuriatingly traitorous.

He showed a wide range of emotion; we got to see the real Solas, not the polite pretender of Inquisition. He was the shining star of the game for me. And he was sorely lacking.

We hardly got to speak to him!! It drove me nuts that we couldn't talk to him as much as our other companions. He literally knows the most about our enemies and how to defeat them. And we know he's probably planning some trickery in his lil mind prison. Why are we not checking on Solas at every chance we get?

Learning more about and speaking with Mythal? Chef's kiss. But I so, so wish that a romanced Inquisitor, along with Mythal's release of Solas, was what prompted Solas to realize there could be more to his life than rebellion and penance. He's betrayed everyone he's ever loved, and killed his closest friends, but he didn't kill her. Mythal represents his past, she's the origin of where it all went wrong - I wanted Solas to see a Lavellan that understands and forgives, even after everything, and that universal acceptance is the thing he needs to finally let go of trying to make up for what he's done. (It's fine, I'll just write a fanfic about it, whatever)

My Complaints:

-That we only can choose 3 possible variables for worldbuilding to keep from Inquisition. I think this the biggest, most egregious and disrespectful thing they did in the game, and I'm sure it's been talked about to death, but I'll just add that I hate it. I'll live with it - I'd rather they be vague than ret-con or kill off beloved characters off-screen - but still, what's the point of all of our previous choices if we don't get to see how they shape this world?

-The relationships felt SHALLOW. For a game that revolves around your companions, everything felt surface level. While I loved that almost every time you went to the Lighthouse, people were somewhere different and talking to each other, I HATED that Rook couldn't participate in their conversations. We only listened. I hate that we couldn't really ever initiate any long, deep conversations where we got to ask our companions strings of questions about themselves and their histories. I feel like I barely know Neve or Lucanis. I did like getting a bit more in depth with characters during their missions, but still...I feel like I barely know them, not the deep closeness I've felt with Dragon Age companions in the past. Nobody ever argues or disagrees with you, not really, just a couple times and it doesn't truly matter. I loved the companions. Their designs are so cool. I wanted to know everything about them and talk to them more. Why can't we ask Davrin about his vallaslin (it's obviously Ghilan'nain) and how he feels about it now that we are fighting her, especially if we're also an elf? And Bellara, why can't we ask about her tattoo and where her clan is and how she joined the Veil Jumpers? Why can't we ask Neve about her prosthetic? I loved the references to Inquisition in Harding's design, but since we couldn't import more than 3 things, she couldn't even talk about the Inquisition beyond the most vague things. Taash barely speaks at all. Emmrich has no life beyond the dead.

-The companions are so...one-note. Taash brings up being non-binary at every. single. quest, even though their adaari-ness and crossroads between being Qun and being Rivani was super interesting to me. (more on Taash in a minute.) Lucanis likes coffee. Davrin's personal quests mention "torlum" ad nauseum and the fact that Assan eats a lot. Bellara at least talks about other interests, but everyone else is so predictable. Even their banter doesn't seem to give them a lot of individual personality.

-the body models for female elves felt..a bit odd? My Rook always looked bow-legged. And do bras not exist in Thedas anymore? Lol

-The choice of who dies? HEART-WRENCHING. why was it between those two?! Why isn't the romance scene until AFTER this choice? Why doesn't the thing that happens with Harding and The Stone protect her (I thought it would!) and why don't we get any resolution to that if we lose her? I understand that Davrin was prepared to sacrifice himself as a Grey Warden, but making us lose Assan too...? Cruelty. That's what it is.

-I don't like that there are permanent deaths that happen regardless of our choices. That sucks. I know it's realistic, but this is a game, and I want my happily ever after for everyone, DAMN IT! The twist truly shook me, and I didn't see it coming. I didn't think I'd be caught by surprise and I was.

-The characterization of Rook is all over the place. I played an elven Rook with non-traditional vallaslin (figuring that the newer generation of Dalish Veil Jumpers might blend tradition with their new focus of exploring the Veil.) At various times, my Rook has said these things: "I didn't grow up with the Dalish." "I'm Dalish where it counts. "As a fellow Dalish--" WHICH IS IT? I'm in the most elfy faction, it's not even that I picked something unlikely for an elf with a face tattoo. I don't know what you have to do, what flags you have to trigger in the code, but the game still seems so confused about who our characters are. Pick a lane, Rook!

-While I'm on this subject: it would have been so nice to be able to know from the character creator what every kind of tattoo, body paint, and scar pattern went with what faction. And for the Dalish, which god matched to which vallaslin. It would have blown my mind in a good way if our choice of vallaslin came up in any way shape or form

-I would have loved if our race and faction actually like..mattered more. Walking around the Veil Jumper camp at the beginning and nobody talking to me except Strife and Irelin, that was so boring! Nobody recognizes you or asks how you've been. Just silence. Like everyone around you is a cardboard cutout. I expected more from Bioware.

-We got so much amazing lore in this game, and I'm really happy about it! But why did Bioware have to take the most marginalized group of people in Thedas, who were barely clinging to their own language and culture and freedom to begin with, and make everything bad that ever happened THEIR FAULT? What was the thought process there? That they used to have power but their leaders were in fact so terrible that they tore themselves apart and now live on the fringes of society? It makes it feel like the elves deserved their present fate, which is...pretty sucky. I'm glad they did not massacre the elves in this game as they have in the past, and that the elves didn't become even MORE the enemy by joining with the gods, but it really feels like the humans are only going to kill more elves in retribution for their gods almost ending the whole world. Also, related: nobody ever gives us sass about being an elf, not even in Minrathous, where elves are almost entirely slaves?!

-i know everything's changing with the lore stuff we typically know, but why did it seem that existing physically in the Fade is just no big deal anymore?

-at no point does Harding mention Varric dying? They don't have a funeral, a memorial? The Inquisitor says nothing, Morrigan says nothing? I know Solas messed with rook's mind, but even after...?

-the fact that the romance scenes don't happen until after the deaths. So it's possible for your love interest to die before that? Cruelty. Also, weird places to hook up, right after I just found out someone I thought has been alive this whole time DIED AT THE BEGINNING, and another dear friend sacrificed themselves, and we aren't sad at all during this? I understand sex after loss is perfectly normal and I understand that. But at least for the scene I saw, there was no "celebration of being alive" feel, it felt...more lustful than loving? Just an abrupt tonal shift.

-it just...ends. there's the typical little wrap up slides, but they're, again, shallow. A few lines here and there. Apparently the whole of Thedas was nearly destroyed, and not a single country went unscathed, but it's all gonna be ok! The bit of hope was nice, but...I don't feel settled at all. And it seems like we won't get DLC? which...ugh. and they fired the writers, which, again, cruel. If they make another Dragon Age, I can't see it being truly Dragon Age without them.

-i decided to make Taash's whole deal and the Qun a separate post lol

All in all - so thankful we got this game, so thankful we got what we did, I'm still processing a lot of it, and the past 3 weeks of my life I have done little else but live inside this story, but I just really need to scream into the void now!!