#he's fine. if he died it'd be inconvenient so he's fine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reddogcollar · 3 years

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Woah he's bisexual I didn't know that

This was supposed to be around 500 words and now its about double that

Brief discussion of blood at the beginning

First/Prev/Next

It was mid morning when a knock at the door to her room woke Gretchen up.

Usually, she would've been awake already. But usually she wasn't out in the middle of the night, catching up with Yuzhnik and random citizens of Brackenholme.

So this morning, her wake up call was a knock. Quiet at first, it was already enough to wake her.

Then whoever was at her door evidently became impatient. She thought they may split their knuckles, with the racket they were making.

Maybe she should just leave them to it. Let them knock until someone comes to yell at them for it, and then she could go back to sleep.

But, it sounded urgent. She was already at the door, anyways.

His hand was raised to knock again, landing on open air, when she opened the door.

"Hector? Shouldn't you be-" She cut off. It wasn't like she wanted him locked in that room. "Come in."

She let him into the room, a hand on his shoulder. The smell of iron hit the air when he was close.

"Brenn, are you bleeding?" She asked, her grip on his shoulder tightening reflexively. He shrugged, poorly covering up a wince, as she had him sit down.

"Don't worry about it. I'm not here to get a cut bandaged." He tried to joke, but he'd withered away so much since she'd last seen him. And there wasn't much left of him then, either.

"So you are bleeding?" She asked, sitting down on the bed. There was only one chair in the room.

The smell choked the air, now that she was aware of it. Even without dipping into the Fox, it was all she could smell.

"I'm fine. It's just a nick." Hector shrugged it off, crossing his arm over his abdomen.

"Then why does it smell so strong." She demanded, coming across harsher than she intended.

The iron smell smothered everything else, the smell of the trees and old linens. She didn't know when they'd last been used, or even when the room had last been entered. When she'd arrived the smell of dust hung over everything.

"It's blood. Its just noticeable." He deflected, sitting up straighter.

Maybe she was over exaggerating. She had only smelled it when he'd been close, and now that he was sitting away from her, the smell should've faded.

"Hector." Even as she took on a threatening tone, she wavered.

"Drew kissed me." He blurted, changing the conversation entirely.

Gretchen stopped for a moment. Had she heard that right? He'd come over to tell her about a kiss? And from Drew, of all people.

She really hoped it was someone else. He could do better than such a stubborn buffoon.

"What?"

"Drew, uh. Kissed me. Out of nowhere. Then left." He explained, quieter and slouching again.

Ah. Well the least she could do was be happy for him now, and try to raise his standards later. That is, if he was even happy for himself.

"Is that not a good thing for you?"

Now that he'd said it, he sat with his shoulders scrunched up to his ears, seeming suddenly very interested with what was on the bedside table.

"I didn't say that." He shrugged, looking off at the wall instead. "I'm just. Confused. About why he'd do that."

"I'd say he wanted to kiss you."

She didn't see what he could be confused about. From what he told her, it seemed cut and dry. Drew had done what he wanted without thinking for a moment. Just what he'd done since she met him.

"Why?"

And what a ludicrous question that was.

"Probably because he likes you." She shrugged. As if Drew could ever be the manipulative type. "Do you think he doesn't?"

"Well I dont. Know, really. It's not like he needs to. Anyone would like him, so there'd be no need to settle for me."

Hector didn't look near her while he spoke, and chewed on his lip like he was ashamed. A couple of times, he glanced where his other arm would rest.

She chose her words more carefully, this time.

"I don't think Drew has ever "settled" on something he didn't want. If anything he's gotten himself ripped apart to get what he does want." She said, wishing there was a second chair in the room. Or that he'd pulled the chair closer to the bed. Or that he'd sat on the bed.

Just so she could hold his hand.

He took a minute, thinking over what she said. She didn't think there were any faults in it, or that anything was untrue. They both knew how dead set Drew could get.

After a long beat, he spoke again.

"Then why would he leave like that?" He asked. He still didn't look at her, but he didn't look at the empty space his limb should occupy either.

"He must've just gotten nervous. He wouldn't have just kissed you just for the kick of it. He can be an idiot but he's not cruel."

Hector nodded even while she spoke.

"I didn't think that he was just messing around. I just thought maybe he could've. Changed his mind?" He questioned, looking at the wall behind her now.

It was close enough to eye contact.

"He wouldn't change his mind unless an entire nation was screaming at him to, and even then, he may not." She nearly scoffed.

Hector shrugged, making a noncommittal sound.

"Listen, Hector." She stood up to stand by him, with a hand on his shoulder. "I'm completely confident he's still completely sure of his choices. Including the ones about you. But it's him you need to ask about it."

He sighed, nodding.

"I know I do." He grimaced thinking about it, before he sighed again. "At least he's talking to Bergan, so I won't be able to for a while."

Just then they heard footsteps coming down the hall towards the door, pounding like someone was running, only to stop dead just outside.

Then, the door swung open, the White Fist holding the handle.

#yk I'm pretty sure there was supposed to be subplot in this story #I remembered it existed while writing this #but I don't remember. what it was #I'll address it the rewrite #at this point I've accepted that I won't know peace until I make at LEAST a 2nd draft after knowing what the hell I'm doing #this? this is just me floundering #who knows what ill be able to do when I have a structured plot #also uh. don't worry abt hector or bloodloss #he's fine. if he died it'd be inconvenient so he's fine

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sunpopp · 3 years

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Warm to The Touch | {CCH}

→ Summary; it's not often that Chanhee gets sick, but when he does, he's a very big crybaby about it. That, or he really is in as much pain as he says he is—regardless that leaves you to take care of him, and funnily enough, it has its perks.

• WC/genre: 2K of smut + fluff

• Includes/cw: Chanhee being sick and reader taking care of him, no kissies on lips 😔, sub!Chanhee, gn!reader, fingering (m receiving), dick neglection (?), handjobs, brief praise, aftercare

Riding the bus wasn't your favorite thing to do, but it was soothing if you were in the right mood.

Sadly, you weren't. Mostly due to the fact that Chanhee was quite literally blowing up your phone with texts asking how much longer it'd take you to be off the train and on your way with his precious medicine, making you sigh and roll your eyes before shooting him a reply that you'd be there soon, but knowing nothing would calm him down until you were in front of him to prove it.

You can't help but smile.

Chanhee didn't complain much about anything, besides maybe you not helping him with washing the dishes or set the table while he made dinner, but everything else was, at most, a dirty look that softened relatively quickly. Sickness, though, was a whole other ballgame.

He would rant and rave about the tiniest of phantom pains, practically on the male equivalent of his period with the way his mood would get snappy and sour at the slightest inconveniences.

But maybe he really did just have a shit pain tolerance like he'd often hint at. Though it didn't stop you from still being baffled when he'd get a bad cramp in the middle of the night and whine about it until he'd fall asleep again.

Coming back to reality as you glance up to the bus's nearing destination, you stretch lazily and begin to stand, muscles aching from walking all day and back cracking loud enough for you to wonder if other people heard it. The bus slows to a stop before finally lurching against the sidewalk, and you take your leave through the opening doors with an appreciative thanks to the driver.

Almost immediately after you hop down from the steps, a layering of chilly wind washes harshly against your front and the familiar smell of petrichor into your nose, relentless rain droplets against your coat as you begin in a jog in the direction of your apartment. Chanhee must be freezing right now, you think, concern growing even heavier at the visible breaths of air you let out. If he's already got the sniffles, a sore throat, and headaches, he's probably getting worse considering you'd forgotten to turn the heater on before you left.

Stupid mistake.

It takes maybe a couple more minutes, less than it'd take if you were walking like normal, before you're finally at your door, punching in the code for the lock before shouldering it open and kicking off your shoes on the shoe rack. It's cold inside, you can tell by the way your cheeks still feel numb.

"Chanhee! I got your medicine!" Your words echo throughout the hall, spreading out when you keep calling his name as you move farther in; past the open kitchen and to the bedroom door opposite the bathroom.

When you come into the room, Chanhee is still in the bed where he was when you left, but this time, he's sat up, looking at you with hooded eyes and a thin sheen of sweat covering his face. He frowns, "It's about time. While I was here suffering, you were out with your friends. Unbelievable..," he pouts and shakes his head.

With a chuckle and now eased posture, you sit in front of him and set the bag of medicine beside you to check his temperature. He's extremely hot.

"Yeah, well, staying around you while you're sick is enough to drive me crazy so you can't really pin the blame on me for needing to leave. Plus, it's not like you tried to stop me, did you?" You smile at him, standing back up to go run him a lukewarm bath.

"I was asleep!"

"Your problem, not mine!"

___

"Alright, up you go."

"Ah, but my whole body hurts..."

"Too bad, you're sweating a bunch and you haven't done anything to clean yourself yet."

Another tug of Chanhee's hands, and he's stumbling into your arms with a raspy groan at the jerky movement. You pat his back, pecking his damp forehead, then drag him to the bathroom.

"Can you undress yourself or do you need my help with everything?" You half-joke.

"Don't be rude, it's actually hard for me to do a lot of things," Chanhee utters bitterly, but he does manage to pull his shirt over his head, albeit with your help, as well as his pants and boxers before stepping into the water.

"Or maybe you're just fragile as hell and the smallest things have you bedridden for a week."

"Oh my god I'm gonna-"

"Hush, princess, you won't do anything," you find yourself laughing as you lower yourself to your knees beside the tub, folding your arms on the side before resting your cheek atop them, "Just relax, okay? I know you're too tired to argue right now, so let yourself calm down for a couple."

He thankfully doesn't protest, and takes your advice for once; letting himself fall against the back of the bathtub and close his eyes, the sigh through his nose an indication that he's allowing himself to enjoy the water. He looks so peaceful like this. Doll-like eyelashes fluttering against smooth, heated cheeks, and head slowly lolling to face you.

You feel yourself reach out. You know it's happening, but you don't stop it when you run a hand through Chanhee's bangs, then swipe a thumb past his eyelid to trail to his nose, then lips.

He opens his eyes, but doesn't say anything, even if he probably finds it strange. He lets you touch him.

"You're very pretty," you mumble whilst pouring water onto his head using the wash bucket on the back surface of the bathtub. Drops trickle down into mini patterns on his face, and he drags a hand over it to clear them away.

"Even while sick?" He raises his eyebrows, pleasantly surprised at your answer.

You comb the water into his hair to wet it as you nod, "Even while sick."

Chanhee smiles, "So, how was your day out?"

"It was nice. Found a perfect place where I'd love to take you, actually."

"Oh? Where?"

"The bone zone-"

"Oh my god, you're so annoying!"

You erupt into a fit of laughter as Chanhee swats a hand at you, getting some of your shirt and arm wet where you shield yourself from his little attack. You pinch his cheek, flashing a toothy grin, "Oh, come on! That was a good one and you know it. Smooth as ever if I do say so myself."

"Yeah, and you're the only one saying so," He pouts, pulling away from your pinchy fingers and trying his best to hide the steadily growing smirk that threatens to break his face into a smile. Stubborn as always, you see.

"You can leave now," Chanhee gives you a pointed look.

"Alright, alright. I'll be in the bedroom awaiting any further commands, your highness," You shake your head, and make a grand display of leaving the room and him to his own privacy.

Chanhee doesn't take long in the bath anyway, so you knew you wouldn't have to wait long as you fall back against the bed, shifting around until you've made yourself comfortable against the strewn navy covers. You spare a glance out the window pressed against your side; still raining, and still bathed in a silver glow from the blanketing clouds. It'd make you kind of sad, if not melancholic, but you were in a good mood from coming home, so at the most, you were calm.

Calm, even when Chanhee emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam a half hour later, only wearing a pink striped button up pajama shirt and matching bottoms, hands raised above his head whilst he dries his hair with a small towel. He comes to a stop in front of you.

"There he is," you exclaim, looking up from your phone and patting the spot next to you with a mischievous glint in your eye, "C'mere."

"I wonder why I'm hesitating," he says, and you can practically feel the the sarcasm in his words.

"Because hot people make you nervous? Duh."

"Are you insinuating that you're hot?"

That's your queue.

Leaning forward, you grab Chanhee's wrist and tug him into your chest, causing him to stumble slightly, but you catch him and pull him flush against you. A flurry of kisses to his face, excluding his lips, ensue.

Chanhee squirms around in your arms and acts like he doesn't like the affection at first, but a few more seconds of the same treatment prove true to his soft side when he goes limp and begins to giggle at the ticklish feel of your butterfly pecks.

Oh, that giggle. How you loved to hear it; sweet and beautiful like the chime of the prettiest bell in your ears.

You pull him on top of you as you relax against the crevice where the mattress meets the wall, and rest your cheek on the top of his head, humming, "You saying that I'm not hot?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

"Kidding."

"No you weren't."

"Yes I was."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"You- Hush!" Chanhee covers your mouth finally and you chuckle against his palm at his feeble attempt to silence you.

You press a kiss to it instead of bickering further, causing him to soften. Just then, you realize something as you touch down his wrist.

"Woah, has your fever not died down at all? You're even starting to sweat a little bit again, too..."

Your suspicions prove true when a closer inspection at the ruddy skin flushed from his cheeks down to his chest and heavier-than-normal breathing indicates that he's still hot, or at least overheated.

"Here," you murmur, already shifting him on his back so you can easily unclasp the buttons of his shirt, "Are you in any pain or is it still just the sore throat?"

"The headache I had earlier is starting to come back. It's getting worse, but that's about it so don't worry, I'll be fine," Chanhee tries his hand at reassurance, you can tell, but it doesn't do anything to stop you from crawling over him to scurry into the kitchen.

"I'm getting you some water, hang on!" You call out from down the hall, making quick work of filling up a decently sized glass before you return to him with some painkillers as well. He barely manages to sit up when you reach him; his face scrunching at the obvious pain that's beginning to hit him tenfold as he gratefully takes the pills and throws his head back when he tosses them in his mouth, chasing them with the cold glass of water you provided.

"Ah, it's actually really starting to hurt...," Chanhee whimpers and at the sound, you slide back into the bed to pepper his face with pecks once again. He's grateful for the comfort, if the way he gently drapes his arm over your shoulder says anything.

"Oh, my poor baby," you coo lowly, feeling the goosebumps on his back that prickle at your tone, "Is there anything I can do to make it better? Did you already take your medicine?"

"Yeah.. still hurts.."

"I can tell," you snort and trail a finger down Chanhee's sternum, looping it back up to flick at one of his nipples. He jolts, and you can't help but give a cheeky smirk, "Even your nipples have taken on somewhat of a hue. I wonder what other places are doing the same thing...," your words would hold suggestion to even the most clueless of people, spoken through lips now slicked with saliva as you roll your tongue across the tinted flesh and lower your head for a taste of his exposed breast.

"Ah!" Chanhee gasps loudly and his fingers find purchase on the back of your head, his body trembling when he arches his chest up into your face, searching for more when his mouth fails to ask you such a favor.

Teasing his nipple with a gentle nip before pulling away to kiss it instead, you caress his narrow waist, "You said it hurts, no?"

"It does...," Chanhee pants and nods as fast as his throbbing head will allow him.

"Where does it hurt most, baby? Tell me," You wet your fingers with a quick swipe of your tongue then reach under his lower half to slide your hand into his shorts, Chanhee helping you by taking one leg out, and glide down the seam of his ass to tease his rim, "Here?"

"Y-yes..!" you chuckle when he huffs and flings both arms around your head, pulling you close into him and meeting your forehead as he grinds down against your digits.

"Awe, look at you..."

And look at him indeed; Chanhee is already a mess before you. Staring at you with those big watery doe eyes of his, and silently pleading for you to continue doing things to his body that has him feeling like bursting.

You give him exactly what he wants.

Pushing your finger into him, slowly due to how tight the fit is, you press sloppy kisses to the underside of his jaw. The reaction Chanhee gives is a familiar one, with sensual lips dropped open to let out a high-pitched moan and legs trembling as he holds them open for you, fighting to not shut his eyes upon feeling you enter him.

"Good," you drawl, tilting your wrist at an angle once your index and pinkie meet the backs of Chanhee's thighs and gently curling your fingers upwards, "Just like that, baby. Is this okay? Are you okay?" Your eyes search his face for discomfort, and though you don't find any, you still your movements.

He nods and nuzzles against the top of your head with his cheek, "Mm-hm. Keep going, please."

You start back up at his polite request, as much as you love hearing him ask for more of something, and begin to drag the pads of your fingers back and fourth alongside his walls until you feel the telltale firmness of his prostate, then start on massaging it.

"Ah!" He emits a short, melodical whine at the burst of sensation now seething within him. It drives him one step from crazy as he scrunches his face and unconsciously slaps at your shoulder in a sort of mid-euphoria result.

You huff out a half-laugh, sitting back on your knees so you can get a better view of what you're doing, "Good?"

Chanhee tries to use his words, but by the way you pin him down to the bed with a palm flat against his collarbone before speeding up your hand, he can only manage a broken sob. It's followed by another of the same needy type, but this time, it's louder and causes your stomach to all but flip at the sound. Chanhee throws his head back, thrashing this way and that to somewhat get away from the overwhelming feeling, but also pushing down against it at the same time; all the while your hand keeps him in place.

"I'll take that as a yes," you jest, mostly to yourself because Chanhee sure isn't listening, then bend down slightly to finally turn your focus to his weeping cock. It's full-blooded from being hard for so long, angry red at the tip and jumping every once in a while, especially when you open your mouth to lick a strip from the base to the head.

"P-please I can't! You're gonna make me cum!" Chanhee rushes to sit up, but you push him back down as soon as he tries. He looks absolutely horrified at being so close already.

"And what's the problem with that?"

"I-I just- I don't want to disappoint you."

"Oh, baby," You take your hand from his chest in favor of jerking him off, which he all but chokes at, "It doesn't disappoint me at all. I find it very hot, actually."

"Plea-ease..! Oh!" Chanhee wails one final time before he lets go all over your hand.

It covers your knuckles, dripping white down the side of your thumb as you keep stroking him to help him ride it out. The orgasm must've hit him hard, you think when you look up to see Chanhee shuddering in time with the aftershocks that zap his body every few seconds, eyes closed and skin dewy with a sheen of perspiration.

"Hey, come back to me. You alright? Does your head still hurt?"

He takes a moment to open his eyes, but when they roll open and find your face, he does something that catches you off-guard. He latches himself onto your front, straddling your lap, and rests his head over your shoulder with a sigh.

"Chanhee, hang on a bit, my hand's still dirty and I need to clean you up-"

"In a second. I'm tired."

"You still haven't answered my question."

"Mm, I don't feel like talking right now."

"... You are such a handful."

@vanillaknj @stealerhwa1

#sub tbz #sub tbz smut #sub the boyz smut #sub! the boyz #sub! the boyz smut #tbz smut #the boyz smut #dom!reader #sub!idol #gn!reader #idol smut #kpop smut #smut #chanhee smut #sub!chanhee #chanhee the boyz #the boyz chanhee

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ma-gic-gay · 3 years

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"Did you kill my brother?"

"What are you talking about, Jason?" Sonny asks his business partner who's clearly found out the truth.

"AJ. Did you kill him?"

"It's complicated-"

"No it's not. Either you pulled the trigger and let out the shot that killed my brother or you didn't, Sonny. I need to know what you did."

"Ava, she-"

"I didn't ask what Ava did, Sonny, I asked what you did. So just tell me already, did you shoot him with the bullet that killed him?"

"Yes. I did, I shot him because Ava made me think that he was the one who killed Connie. She told me that he'd killed her and I was mad. God, I was so mad that I killed him. Ava, she encouraged it, and I shot him because I thought I was avenging Connie's death."

"I can't believe you," Jason snarls at his mentor. "You thought I was dead! I died trying to protect you, and this is the thanks I get? You push my brother to drink again after my grieving mother calls him home because she needs one of her kids alive. He bonded with Michael! He was a part of my family again and you shot him. You killed AJ and didn't tell me for years. I found out about it because of Cyrus!"

"What the hell is Cyrus doing contacting you with that information?" Sonny asks, confused and upset. "And how the hell did he find out?"

"He sent me a tape with the audio of AJ's death, Sonny. I hate that man more than you could believe, trust me. But you hid this from me for years! I've been back so long and you hide from me that you're AJ's killer," Jason shouts, hands running through his hair.

"So did Carly!" Sonny weakly defends himself and he sees that the fire blazing in Jason's eyes softens slightly.

"This isn't about what Carly did! She didn't pull the trigger! She might not have told me that, but at least she didn't kill him. At least there's that. But you? I can't forgive you. You destroyed my mother. Monica, she needed to know one of her kids was okay and then the one that is, you just have to kill him too? Seems to be a pattern of yours, doesn't it?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You kill AJ and the reason everyone thought I was dead was because of you too, because I was trying to protect you. Kristina's been in a car bombing, Michael got shot, Avery was conceived on my brother's grave, Joss lives her life with bodyguards constantly around her, Dev died, Dante got shot- by you!- should I go on? That's just your kids and AJ, not even half of the stuff you've done. Should I go on?" Jason asks, shouting at him now.

"I know you're upset that Sam left you, Jason, but there are better ways to cope with it then by screaming at me," the shorter of the pair attempts to rationalize.

"Upset? Sonny, Sam left and she took my kids with her. Trust me, that doesn't cover the half of what I'm feeling right now. But I'm fine without Sam here, you know what I'm not fine with? You, who is supposed to be my friend, killing my brother and hiding that from me for so long." Jason fires back.

"Don't take this out on me, Jason," Sonny says, trying to impact this conversation somehow.

"What would you do if I'd done something like this to you, Sonny? I covered your ass so many times, I did everything you didn't want to do or couldn't do. Hell, you're only not still calling Carly a worthless slut because of me so don't you for a second act like my anger isn't justified. I raised your kids when you couldn't. When you were having a major life evaluation, I went to prison to protect your kid. While you were upset and angry, I was comforting your wife! I stood by you through everything, Sonny. Everything! I've got a right to anger, a right to being mad at you, and a right to downright hate you right now!" Jason shouts loudly.

"And I'm grateful for that!" Sonny shouts back. "But you're not listening and you're blaming everything on me when I'm not the only one to blame."

"You're the only one who pulled the trigger. Whatever Carly did, she would never do that to me or Michael," Jason reminds him.

"She helped me cover it up for months," Sonny tells him.

"To save your sorry ass so Michael wouldn't have to deal with more bad things! Her not telling the cops that you killed him, and lying to Michael about it, that was for him. Don't think for a minute it's because you're some amazing person because you're a killer of innocent men!"

"Don't you dare defend her and trash me in the same sentence! I did it to protect you, Jason!"

"Does she think I know?" Jason asks.

"Yes," Sonny admits. "I didn't want you to come back and get bombarded with bad news."

"I quit. I don't need your protection, I never have and I never will. You, on the other hand, might need some from me."

At that, Jason storms out of the office and drives over to the Corinthos home, where Carly is. He's got to find out why she did what she did.

He lets himself in and she smiles when she sees him at first, but quickly registers that he's emotionally conflicted. "What happened, Jason? Are you okay?" The blonde asks, rushing over to check him out. "You don't feel hot, so you're not sick. What's wrong?"

"Did you help hide it from me that Sonny killed AJ?" He asks her quickly when they're seated on the couch.

Confused, she says, "No. He said you knew, that he'd told you."

Jason sighs, his head in his hands. "I didn't. In fact, I just found out that he did that a few minutes ago when Cyrus sent me the recording of his death."

Frowning, Carly envelopes him in a hug. "Jason, I'm so sorry. If I had known, I would've made him tell you or told you myself. God, I'm so stupid! I should've known never to trust Sonny when it comes to this stuff."

"You thought I knew and I wouldn't have a reaction? For years, Carly, all I had for a family was you and Michael and Sonny. He killed my brother. You thought I'd just be fine with it?" Jason asks his best friend, hurt. "For someone who prides herself on knowing me, you really don't if that's what you think."

"He told me you were mad, told me you were processing! I didn't bring it up because I didn't want to watch you as your heart broke," Carly tells him, tears flooding her eyes but her far too stubborn to let them fall. "When we thought you were dead, I almost died, Jason. I was going to pull a Carly, I swear to God, and lose it at an inconvenient time. I know I should've been the one to tell you, I know, but I couldn't stand to watch you while you found out such terrible news. Sonny had me thinking you knew already so I thought there was no point to me telling you anyways."

"Believing what he says about me always seems to mess with you, doesn't it?" Jason asks, a small frown on his lips still.

"Yeah, it does," Carly agrees and the two sit there for a few moments in silence, reminiscing about the past. Before their lives were so complicated, when all that mattered was staying out of jail, each other, and Michael. "It always ends up fucking me over."

"That it does," he agrees, smiling softly.

"What are you smiling about? You just got terrible, earth shattering news, Sam and the kids left, and I ended up lying to you for two years. Why are you smiling?" Carly asks.

"Thinking about the what if's of life," he responds. "What it'd be like if not for that night."

"I made several offers for us to leave the country with Michael," Carly reminds him, chuckling. "Mainly after you came home, but still. You and I, we were in such a real life love and we had everything right. Except timing. When you were ready to confront your feelings for me, after an excruciatingly long period of time, I had slept with Sonny. When I had continually told you mine, you weren't ready to deal with it yet. Timing's a bitch."

"If we left the country, you wouldn't have Morgan, or Joss, or Donna," Jason reminds her.

"And you never would've met Sam, or had Danny, or Scout," she counters. "You think we would've worked out, had we done that, had I not slept with Sonny?"

"If I'd let us, probably," Jason admits after pondering it for a moment. "It would've been hard, but I think we would've. Provided, of course, neither of us backed out."

"You were the one who couldn't deal with it," Carly teases him.

"Yeah," Jason agrees, "I couldn't. Maybe what I felt was too strong or something, I don't know."

"Hey Jason?" She asks him a few minutes later, them both in their own worlds, thinking about what if's and their past.

"What?" He asks her, smiling slightly. His eyes give him away, blue and full of so much emotion in so many different forms.

She doesn't respond with words, just kisses him. Their lips intertwine and all feels right with the world for a moment as they're kissing.

But all good things must come to an end and they pull away. "That was-"

"Unexpected," Jason finishes, smiling at her. "Good unexpected."

"Glad we can agree. What's this mean for us?" She asks.

Instead of answering, he initiates a second kiss, a slightly more passionate one but roughly the same.

"Correction," Carly asks when they pull away, "what's that mean?"

"I don't know," he admits. "I don't know everything. I know that felt right, but you're married and I'm single."

"How do we keep ending up in this situation?" Carly asks, laughing. "First with AJ, then Sonny- our first marriage, when I was in love with you for half of it. And now, again."

"You get married too often," he smirks at her. "That's how."

"Well, maybe the third time of this is a charm," Carly smiles back. "It's an expression for a reason, after all."

Jason considers it for a minute. "God help me I'm going along with a Carly plan," he smiles.

"God help us both," Carly smiles before kissing him again.

I just watched you go through all the stages of grief. You ok???

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rubydollchaos · 4 years

Text

I live with my mum, which I realise is pretty pathetic but my dad died a few years back and I don't intend to get married so it seemed a sensible arrangement. Then my brother got divorced and moved back in too. Bear in mind that even when he had his own house with his wife he used to come back home to have a dump and take a bath. He used to see his daughter at the weekends which meant that my mum and I used to see her then as well unless he decided he was going out with his friends with her. Then he stopped seeing her altogether because she didn't want to see him. Our extended family collectively nodded and said how the ex wife was turning her against him and she'll come around when she's old enough. Sometimes I tell them it's probably more likely because the thing my brother most frequently said to my niece was "shut up, you're boring". To most people my brother seems like a top bloke, friendly, funny, helpful but they only see him when he's in a good mood. He can't do enough for other people but when I asked him to check my car over before I took our mum away on holiday, it was a terrible inconvenience and then he demands "how long's that been running like a bag of shit?" How do I respond to that? The truthful answer was a while but the 1 ltr engine always sounds awful to me and I didn't dare speak to him to check it.

He has a new girlfriend now, but he won't call her that. The neighbour across the road broke up with her husband and he was straight in there. She has a daughter the same age as my niece. So now he has a replacement family to take away in his caravan without any of the actual responsibilities of being a husband and father.

I tried to keep in touch with my niece by sending her occasional messages which she rarely replied to. A while ago we met up for the first time in two years and I barely recognised her. The chatty enthusiastic little girl is now a smart, thoughtful young woman. I feel bad because my mum still hasn't seen her. Her only grandchild. And I don't even dare talk about her because my brother is always around.

He doesn't work anymore. He has a bad shoulder. He can put up a fence, shifting six foot wooden fence panels I can barely lift, get under my mum's car to change her oil filter but he can't drive to work to tell people how to work a fork lift. He spends a fair bit of time over the road but he could be back at any time for a bath or a dump or to make food. I like a nice long bath but I don't do it every day. I used to be able to schedule time when everyone else was at work. Not now. On more than one occasion I've said I want a bath only to be told by my mum that my brother has booked the bathroom at the time I wanted. So, that's fine, I'll go in after. I leave the bathroom free for an hour at the time he chose. He comes home after that hour and claims the bathroom. It'd be nice if he spent some of the time he was in there cleaning it but no. He trims his beard and leaves hair all over the windowsill and mirror. I wash the bath out before and after I get in.

He's barged past me while I'm in the kitchen drying up to start putting away his shopping. Like shall I just stand here holding this plate while you take your time? Or he'll just dump his shopping on whatever I made the mistake of leaving on the counter.

The hall is his dumping ground for shoes and packages. The living room is his lounge, there's a chair for him, my mum, and his dog. I sit at the dining table, my chair doubling as somewhere for him to dump his coat.

Yesterday I was buying Christmas cards, looking at the niece section and I heard his voice behind me. I can't get away from him even when I'm not in the house.

My mum doesn't have a problem with his behaviour. If he actually makes an attempt to wash up she sweeps in, oh no, leave that. She'll do it. Which means she and I will do it. One day she'll be fine and I'll be his skivvy while he's lord of the manor.

I need to move out, make a home for myself because this is my brother's house and there's no room for me here anymore.

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mxtchalilies · 2 years

Note

rimi chan! hi hi hi ‘m sorry for such rlly late reply! ahhh it’s alright, as long as you do take care and rest. i get that sometimes we just can’t help but rush things, i sometimes like that too (pls there’s nothing to be sorry at all lovely!). yes especially baji san’s death, the moebius arc already got me shock enough but soon relieved to know the draken lived,, but i DID NOT EXPECT BAJI ASDFGHJKL i thought he was gunna live 😭💔 watching tokyo revengers must have got me in tears for more than twice i swear — ToT (also u like mikey? ooo good taste 👍✨)

oh well, whatever projects they are, hope you’ll fin ‘em soon! yea rn for me half way thru first week of school already got me real busy and exhausted. for the last 2 days i got loads of work to do too (but i already fin ‘em now haha), so i agree. please lessen the work and projects on students. please we also need rest TwT and you’re welcome darling!

whaaaa thank you so so much sweetheart! okay so ah as i’ve said above on monday i got an art project — uh it’s a test actually, which the teacher give us one week to fin but for me who’s too lazy to procrastinate it away (only for me to be even more lazy 😂) i decided to do it right away which take me like 2 whole days + also having to or at least try to focus on classes and taking notes and stuff so yeah :// but luckily i finished all the work now! ‘m kinda proud with it tbh. and even tho my shoulders r still a bit sore, maybe from drawing too much or maybe bc of my earlier violin practice (if it’s about the back part my fingers hurt too lol) but they’ll be fine — anw again ‘m sorry for such late reply rimi! hope you can forgive me, pls have a luvly day or night as well!

[ SPOILERS FOR THE TOKYO REV ANIME !! ] : this gonna be a long answer; but if it's for bammie my beloved, i'll do it <333 (under the cut because again, it's long and i value yalls time <3)

bammie my dear don't feel guilty for late replies. i'd gladly wait for days for replies, i understand not everyone's free by the time i send something in and timezones differ :0 so really, i don't mind!! :D

my adrenaline and creativity all spike at different times and they're most often in the most inconvenient times ughh. notable mentions are when i get very nice fic ideas as i'm about to: sleep / enter classes / deliver speeches next / and answer a test. but then i don't have a single coherent thought when i actually get free time >:'(

baji's death has me crumbling and crying. from the moebius arc onwards, i have been anxious on my seat askjhfk. draken living is a huge relief but then the next arc baji dies and i just... i was not prepared for the emotional damage. i just wanna give them big ol' hugs and cry for them :( also yes mikey. i love everyone (ehem. except for kisaki.) but just wanna spoil mikey a tiny bit more <33

yikes, first week and you guys are exhausted already? the workload's not showing any mercy, huh? well, if anything, i'm really proud of you for working through all of it!! ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜i'm sure you did well, but don't forget to take some breaks too!! (we definitely need a petition to decrease workload or give reasonable time to work on it ssob)

so you did a test for arts? :0 eek that's gonna be quite the work for your hands ! and having to add on the note-taking for class... aaa !! DD: well, i'm sure you did well though especially considering the time you allotted for it <3

you deciding to not procrastinate the work because you were lazy is both a mood and a powermove, haha! then again, it'd make sense to do everything as much as you can before resting so you won't have to worry later :0 it's also something i practice (mostly in studies... here... not so much, unfortunately) i remember you mentioned once somewhere you play the violin, yes! i also used to play the violin back when i was in elementary! :00 stopped because i decided to prioritize my sports though.

again, i don't mind with the late response dear! you're all good <333 have a pleasant day or eve too, bammie <333

#⛩️៹ %.・letters #tobibam.🏮₊˚.༄

0 notes

marril96 · 6 years

Text

Discomfort

Chapter 2: Trapped

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Characters: Rowena, reader, Sam, Dean, OC

Summary: While tagging along with Rowena to help Sam and Dean out on a case, reader gets sexually harassed by another hunter.

Warning: Sexual harassment

Editor: @oswinthestrange

A/N: Huge thanks to my friend @ultimatefandomtrash61 for reading over some scenes and giving me her opinions and critiques.

Read on AO3.

You remained seated beside Rowena for the next few hours, not daring to move out of fear of ending up alone with Mariah again. Your eyes scanned the same page in the book over and over again, the text seared into your brain. This was a serious matter. People had gotten hurt, gotten killed, and there was a dangerous witch walking around, no doubt looking for her next innocent victim. You felt bad for stalling, but you couldn't risk facing the hunter again all on your own.

Mariah kept her eyes firmly on you, which didn't make the situation any easier. You thought she would give up after a certain point, but the woman was determined. What had you ever done to her? She didn't even know you before a few hours ago. She didn't know what kind of person you were, what kind of witch you were. All she knew was that you were a witch, and that you were dating Rowena. Was that really all it took to harass you?

"I think I found something," Mariah suddenly said. You stiffened at the sound of her voice.

"Let me see," Sam said. He got up and walked over to the woman.

"This spell looks similar to the one that killed the first victim, don't you think?"

"Hm… not sure."

"Look at the patterns."

"Yeah, but the effects are all wrong."

You allowed yourself to peek back. Mariah and Sam were looking at the page in her book, deep in discussion over her possible discovery. This was your chance for a break.

"Gonna go to the bathroom. I'll be right back," you whispered to Rowena, who nodded in acknowledgment of your words.

Your legs hurt from disuse, but you kept the groans to yourself. Walking into the bathroom, you closed the door behind you and slouched over to the sink, letting your palms fall flat on it for support. You were okay. You'd been through worse than a creepy hunter. You'd walked in on Rowena being burned to a crisp. You'd watched the horrifying healing process which still sometimes haunted your dreams. You'd held her as she cried numerous times. You'd endured her trashing, kicking, and slapping you in her sleep. Those were real problems. This was just a minor inconvenience.

I'm fine, you told yourself. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. If you were to repeat it enough times, eventually you would believe it.

Mariah couldn't hurt you unless you let her. And you had let her. You were still letting her. If you'd put your foot down the first time she looked at you like you were property rather than a person, none of this would have happened. And now you were stuck with this, stuck with her.

Oh, god!

Relax, you told yourself, chasing away panicked thoughts. Just a few more hours, and you would be free of her. You would never have to see her again. You could handle a bit more discomfort. You'd handled middle schoolers calling your names and poking fun at your looks. You'd handled high schoolers pointing at you and laughing at every movement you'd make, every expression on your face, every little thing you'd do. You'd handled a teacher gaslighting you, instructing you to do the wrong things only to later point out your mistakes, to the point where your hair started falling out and you started dreading her classes. It'd hurt and it'd made you furious, but you'd handled it. And you could handle a hunter looking at you and touching your ass.

You let the cold water run. You stared at it for a few moments, getting lost in the swishing sounds it made as it hit the sink. Taking a deep breath, you splashed your face. The coldness numbed your skin for a second, and with it numbed the pain and fear. You kept washing your face, letting everything, all the crippling distress, pour down the drain.

Closing the tap, you reached for one of the towels and buried your face in it. It was old and rough in places, but still soft enough to provide some comfort.

You were going to be okay. This was simply a bad day. You were under a lot of pressure and you'd let a random hunter get under your skin. Shit happens. You would move on in no time.

Just as the thoughts hit your head, the door opened behind you. You turned to ask whoever it was to leave, to tell them it was taken, but froze at as the eyes you never wanted to meet again stared right at you. Mariah was smiling, gaze instantly shifting downwards to your breasts, and down to your hips. A smile played on her lips as she did so; it was predatory, just like her.

"It's taken," you said, thanking all deities you could think of that your voice remained whole. She didn't deserve the satisfaction of making it break.

"You were gone a while. I got worried," she said with a nonchalant shrug, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her demeanor didn't match her words.

Bullshit! Pigs would fly before the likes of her would worry about you. "Why?" you asked, though you had an inkling about the reason.

"Can't have one of my assets on this case get sick or, god forbid, die, now can I?"

"You said you'd kill me," you reminded her, not buying her explanation for a second. The only thing she wanted was to make you even more uncomfortable, to prey on a witch whose vulnerability she'd smelt the moment she'd laid eyes on her.

"If you do something. You haven't, have you?"

You shook your head. You wished you had done something. At least then she'd have a reason to act the way she had.

Mariah walked towards you, stopping when she was only inches away from you. She reached forwards, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You flinched, heart suddenly beating fast. Uncomfortable heat burned at the back of your neck, chills from earlier replaced by lava, like a thousand fiery ants slithering under your skin.

"N-no," you stuttered, voice barely above a whisper. You hated yourself for being weak in front of her. There was something about her that scared you. Maybe it was her demeanor, or the way she looked at you, or the threat of death and things much more unpleasant that loomed in her eyes. She was a mere human, yet her presence held power over you; power that easily overcame your own.

"Are you sure? You can never tell with you witches." Mariah caressed your cheek with surprising tenderness. Her hand trailed lower, the pads of her fingers softly brushing against the exposed skin of your neck. Your vein throbbed against her hand, giving away your uneasiness. She smiled. "There's no need to be scared. You haven't done anything, right?"

Gulping, you took a step backwards. She followed you, hand never moving from your neck.

"Leave me alone, please," you said in a small voice. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, but you held them back. What good would crying do? Besides, she hadn't even done anything. She was just messing with you. You were letting her mess with you.

You knew you were overreacting, but you couldn't help it. This woman's presence scared the hell out of you.

"Afraid I can't do that," Mariah said. "Someone's gotta keep an eye on you. I respect Sam and Dean, but working with witches? Really?" She scoffed. "How many people have you killed, little girl? How many innocents have died by your hand? Hm? Tens? Hundreds? You don't even care about these victims, do you? You're not here for them. I know you're not. What are you here for, then? What have Sam and Dean promised you?"

"None of your business," you said.

Mariah's fingers curled around the hem of your shirt, a mad glint in her eyes. "Oh, but it is my business," she hissed. "Those people that died? I knew them. I grew up on the same streets as them. They were good people. Hardworking. Honest. They didn't deserve to die. But that didn't matter to your little friend, did it? She took them from us, from our community. Just like that."

"She's not my friend."

"Oh, please! All you witches are the same. That little girlfriend of yours – you know what she did? Know how many innocents she's killed?"

You averted your eyes.

Mariah sighed. "You don't care," she stated. "And neither do Sam and Dean, apparently. But I do. It makes me sick to even look at her!"

"Then don't."

"We got ourselves a smartass." She chuckled. "She teach you that? I bet she taught you a lot of things. She show you how to kill people? I assume it's easy for you guys, magic and all. You see, this runaway witch isn't the only one we should be hunting. Rowena's just as deserving of a witch-killing bullet as she is."

"Leave her alone," you said, tone raising. Harassing you was one thing. Talking that way about Rowena was pushing it. You would rather die than let anyone lay a hand on your girlfriend again.

"Touched a nerve, have I? Behave and I won't lay a finger on either of you. Scout's honor," she echoed your words from earlier. "You can behave, right?" Her hand moved lower, cupping your left breast. You swallowed, body turning as still as a statue. Mariah shook her head in disapproval of your reaction. "You're so tense. Relax, honey. Like I said, I'm not gonna kill you if you're innocent." Her bright eyes met your terrified ones. "You are, right?"

You gave a small nod.

"There you go. You're a sweet girl, Y/N."

"You don't know me."

"I can see it on your face. I'm good at reading people. It's why I'm such a good hunter." Her lips widened into an exaggeratedly sweet smile. "It's a shame you let Rowena corrupt you."

"She didn't," you defended. You weren't going to let her talk about your girlfriend like that.

"Oh, but she did. She turned you into her. A witch." Her mouth twisted in disgust at the word.

"I was born this way."

She laughed. "Don't be ridiculous! No one's born a witch."

So much for her being, as she said, such a good hunter. A good hunter would know their lore. The woman was nothing but a poser, a wannabe whose only skill was intimidation. The question was, was she as deadly as she seemed? Or was it all just a clever mask to hide her inadequacy?

"But what would I know?" she added, shrugging.

Her fingers tightened around your breast. Taken by surprise, you let out a yelp, followed by a hiss, like a wounded animal. Mariah smiled at that, pulling her hand back and releasing you from her hold. You found yourself breathing easier without her touching you.

"Remember, little witch. Behave."

The warning was clear in her tone. Keep your head down. Do as you're told. Don't tell anyone what happened. Be a good little witch and don't provoke the hunter.

You had provoked her, right? That was why she was doing this – right? She wouldn't have bothered you if you hadn't given her a reason to.

No! You shook those thoughts off. This was all on her. It was her decision to prey on you, her decision to stare and threaten and touch where she wasn't supposed to. You couldn't be blamed for simply existing. She had a problem with witches and was taking it out on you.

With one final ridiculously fake smile, Mariah turned on her heel and left out the door.

A couple minutes later you did the same.

Your heart beat like crazy, nervousness washing over you like a splash of cold water, but you did your best to hide it. You couldn't let it show in front of everyone, in front of Rowena. This was her day, her one chance to focus on something other than the horror she'd gone through. You wouldn't ruin it for her. She deserved that much.

Rowena eyed you as you came into her line of vision. Her glance trailed over to Mariah, and then back to you, suspicion never leaving her narrowed eyes. Had she noticed something?

"Is she bothering you, Y/N?" she asked when you sat back down next to her, quietly so only you could hear it.

You shook your head, hating yourself for not telling her the truth. "She's just… weird. I don't like her."

It didn't seem like Rowena bought your explanation, but she let it go. "Me, neither. She seems a bit daft."

You laughed softly at that.

"I don't trust her," she added.

You wanted to say that she barely trusted anybody, but you decided to keep it to yourself. The sentiment was clear.

"Be careful, alright? I don't like the way she looks at you," Rowena said after a few silent moments.

Warmth blossomed in your heart at her words. Rowena rarely expressed affection verbally. She preferred to show rather than tell. To see her so openly protective felt like a dream.

You nodded. "Think she'd try something?"

"Not sure. It's possible. Let's not risk it. She's a hunter. You never know what goes through their thick heads."

"You be careful, too," you said. At full power, she was near invincible. But that didn't mean she couldn't get hurt. Although her body now healed fast, she could still get injured. After Lucifer, you couldn't handle seeing a single mark on her again.

"That wee girl even thinks of laying a hand on me, and she will regret it," Rowena said, smirking viciously.

"Rowena…"

Sensing the concern in your tone, she sighed in defeat, smirk fading in place of a placating smile. "I'll be careful, dear. Don't worry."

Considering her recent predicament, it was hard not to. Rowena had a tendency to get herself into trouble. And even when she hadn't, trouble made sure to find her.

The two of you continued your research. You could feel Mariah's eyes on you as you flipped through the pages. You did your best to ignore her, but discomfort had buried itself too deep for you to just throw it out with a simple thought. The woman had gotten under your skin and now you were stuck with uneasiness she'd left.

The book turned out to be another dead end. You slammed it shut, no longer able to push back the frustration. How much longer would you have to be here, in this large room that somehow felt small and claustrophobic, breathing the stale air, and enduring the hunter's uncomfortable stare? It had only been a few hours, but you felt like you'd been here for days.

You got to your feet, carelessly picking up the book and heading for the shelf. So many books in this library, and so far not one had given at least a hint about the identity of the wicked witch or clues about her spellwork. Maybe the Men of Letters weren't as all-knowing as they thought.

Rowena raised her head when you got up, her eyes following you until you disappeared behind the shelf. You hoped her watching you would discourage Mariah from coming after you again. You couldn't deal with the hunter's bullshit on top of your frustrations.

Much to your displeasure, she showed up mere moments later. Entirely focused on all the books on the shelf, trying to decide which one to try next, you didn't hear her coming. She snuck up to you from behind, steps as light as a feather, barely audible. Her arms wrapped around you, startling you. Their grip was strong; you tried to squirm out, but found yourself trapped in the cage of her embrace. One hand squeezed your breast, while the other slithered down between your legs.

"Let go," you said, keeping your voice low enough so only she could hear. The last thing you wanted was to cause a commotion. This was your problem. No one else had to get involved.

Mariah ignored you. "You didn't behave," she whispered, lips brushing against your ear.

You shuddered. "I didn't do anything." A lump formed in your throat and you swallowed it, lips tightly shut to keep in the manic breaths that threatened to tear from them.

"Don't play dumb. I know you and Rowena were talking about me."

"We weren't," you tried, but she wasn't buying it.

"Bullshit! She's planning to kill me, isn't she? You both are."

"No, that's–"

"Don't lie to me, little girl!" she hissed like a venomous snake.

You flinched at her tone. "I'm not lying." Tears stung at your eyes and you blinked them back. You wouldn't cry. She wasn't worth it.

"I should just kill you right here and now," Mariah said, squeezing at your crotch for emphasis. Your stomach turned, and you felt lightheaded. You took in a breath, hoping to stay on your feet. You wouldn't break. Not right now. "You and your little girlfriend."

"Don't you touch her!" You tried to sound threatening, but at most you came off as desperate.

"Or what?" Mariah challenged. She snickered. "We both know you can't do anything. She's the one with the power in your relationship, while you…" She clicked her tongue. "Well, you exist. That's something, I guess."

Maybe there was truth to her words. You would never be half good a witch Rowena was. But she loved you. She cared for you. She protected you. She felt for you the same way you felt for her. That didn't seem like something a person like Mariah could understand. She viewed witches as heartless monsters rather than human beings with magical affinity that they were. She couldn't comprehend their capacity for love, for kindness and vulnerability. Those were human traits. And in her mind, witches weren't human.

"She deserves to die," Mariah said. "You know that."

"No!" you said firmly. "Rowena… Rowena's not all bad, I swear."

"Of course you'd say that. The heart wants what it wants, I suppose." She stayed silent for a moment, and then she said, "She still needs to die."

"Please, don't hurt her," you begged.

"Maybe I won't. If you do a little something for me, I may just leave her alone," Mariah said. She gripped you tighter, making it clear what her insinuation entailed. "I'm sure we can come to an agreement. That's how it works with your kind, isn't it? You do something for me and I do something for you."

A tear broke free, sliding down your cheek. "Please," you whimpered.

"Come on. It won't be that bad. Who knows? Maybe you'll like it."

"No."

Mariah nuzzled your neck with the tip of her nose, and then pressed a kiss to a spot below your ear. She was surprisingly gentle, like a lover rather than an enemy. You almost felt guilty for being disgusted by her. Almost, for even if she was tender, that didn't change the fact that she was hurting you. This was nothing but manipulation. She'd found your weakness, and she wanted to exploit it.

When Rowena touched you like this, she always made sure that you wanted it. She never pressured you into it or tried to manipulate you.

Mariah was playing with your mind, intent on taking what she wanted for no reason other than to hurt you. She wasn't into you, she didn't like you as a person, and she hated your kind. She saw you as nothing more than a plaything.

"Do it for Rowena," Mariah said, laying another kiss to your neck. Her hand massaged your breast, gently pressing at the nipple.

"No. Please," you begged, more tears falling.

"You don't want me to hurt her, do you?"

"No."

"Then do it."

"I don't want to."

You didn't want her hands on you. You didn't want her kissing you. You didn't want her breath burning your skin. You didn't want her threats or her sweet words that screamed danger.

You didn't want her, Mariah Moore, anywhere near you.

"I'll do it, you know? Wouldn't be my first time hunting down a witch," she said.

"Please, don't," you said in a small voice. Rowena had been through enough. She shouldn't have to deal with a petty hunter trying to kill her. Mariah wasn't capable of inflicting much damage – you were willing to bet not even Lucifer would be able to hurt her as much as he had before – but even trying to would upset your girlfriend. That was the last thing you wanted. Rowena needed peace. She'd earned it after horribly dying. Mariah had already offended her; she didn't need to try to kill her, as well.

"Then you know what you have to do."

"No, I won't do it. I won't," you said, helplessly struggling against her hold.

She pressed herself firmer against you. Your breathing fastened and you started panting. Panic spread through your body, burning your nerves like fire. Mariah chuckled as she felt the vein on your neck bobbing rapidly, your body betraying you right underneath her lips. She was too strong and you were too weak to push her away. You tried to think of a spell, but your mind was a blank. What was that spell that made people freeze in place? Or the one that sent them flying? You were sure you knew them by heart. It was as if your brain froze, and the only thing you could do as the hunter kissed your neck and squeezed parts of your body she had no right to even look at, let alone touch, was wiggle in feeble attempts to get her to leave you alone.

"Rowena would be so disappointed in you," Mariah said. She kissed below your jaw, and it felt like your skin was on fire where her lips came in contact with it.

She wouldn't, you thought. Rowena would never be disappointed in you. You gave her a chance when everyone else thought her as nothing more than just another wicked witch. You stood with her, fought with her, learned from her. You listened to her when she had a problem, and took care of her when she was in need. You trusted her, and eventually she started trusting you, as well. She wouldn't hold this against you. She loved you too much for that.

"Get off," you said. Then, taking a deep breath, you added with more force, "Get off me!"

Mariah ignored your pleas, laying more kisses to your neck. The hand on your breast twisted, long nails digging into your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt and bra. That was going to leave a bruise later. You let out a yelp, like a puppy whose paw got trampled. You didn't care if anyone heard you. You couldn't take this anymore. Constant looks, casual touches, and threats were one thing, but this was too much. How far was she willing to go? You didn't want to find out.

"Stop! Get off!" you exclaimed, putting as much force into your words as possible.

You could deal with Sam and Dean judging you. You could deal with Rowena getting upset. What you couldn't deal with were Mariah's hands on you, her nasty breath in your face. Not anymore. You were weak and pathetic, a poor excuse for a witch. The realization made you cry harder. That was what Rowena would be disappointed at. You were a disgrace to witchkind, the kind of a witch Rowena looked at with disdain.

She wouldn't be mad at you for betraying her. She'd be mad at you for betraying magic.

"Get off!" you exclaimed desperately.

Everything happened in what felt like half a second.

High heels clicked. A shout of "Abi" sounded through the library. The pressure on your body vanished as quickly as it had appeared, weight lifting off your tense shoulders. You allowed yourself a deep breath, free of the constraints that had just a moment ago caged you.

Mariah was off of you.

And Rowena was glaring, eyes flashing a furious purple.

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