#be a blessing to others and spread this lovely song

[simonbrain]

nothing made sense before you. it was like a fog permanently rested over simon—a dark, heavy cloud that weighed on his shoulders, constantly soaking him in his sins and grief. the cavity in his chest worsened the older he got, darkness spreading all over his heart until his ribs were nothing more than an empty cage, and he got better at ignoring the aching pain and the need to become someone meaningful. he fully accepted that he would die on the field and be forgotten, that he would become a fleeting thought, and the riley name would finally—properly—perish with him.

well, now that he thinks about it, he can't help but feel eternally grateful for you. how could he have lived like that?

the new life he leads now is nothing like what he was used to. he sits on the couch with a beer in his hand, the other resting on his full belly as a football match drones on in the back. pictures hang on the walls with your bright smile in each one. your scent sticks to everything in the house, especially on simon's shirts, and your plants and flowers sit on top of the shelves and table. the smell of toffee wafts into the living room, each wave making his nose perk up and water pool in his mouth even though he's certain he can't stuff anymore food down.

he's staring at you. he's watching the way you move around the kitchen—how there's not a lick of tension or stress in your body as you go about making the sauce for the sticky toffee pudding. your shoulders are relaxed, and you sway a little, humming one of your favourite songs as you stir the pot. you curse quietly when you accidentally burn yourself, and when you peek behind you to see if simon saw that—he did—you flash a bashful smile and return your attention back to the stove.

simon thinks you look so angelic like this. it's like you were crafted by the big man upstairs specifically for him, because he doesn't think he's ever felt so comfortable around someone in his life. he always feels so weak in your presence, his chest torn open for you to see him in his entirety, and he doesn't hate it. he doesn't hate being seen—not anymore. not if it's you casting your soft gaze upon him.

how can he thank you? how can he make it up to you for dragging him out of that hole he could never seem to claw his way out of? how can he ever explain how you cleared a way for him through the fog, how you soaked up the pain that kept pummelling down on his shoulders and transformed it into something misty and gentle, how you filled his chest with your everlasting joy until he finally felt his heart sing for the first time in years?

it will never be enough. he will never be able to repay you enough for the love and devotion you've shown him over the years, for the everlasting patience you had while he was still in the military, for the gentleness you've taught him through your own words and actions.

he's not a good man, and he doesn't deserve good things. but you've blessed him with your love and your tenderness, and he will never stop trying to make it up to you. he will love you fiercely and proudly; he'll flaunt the ring on his finger and carry a piece of your heart with him whenever he goes. he'll spend the rest of his life and the lives after that loving you.

when you bring him a plate of pudding paired with vanilla ice cream, he looks up at you with glazed heart-shaped eyes and brings you in for a sweet little kiss. you smile into it and return the love you feel radiating from him tenfold.

[ellastone-olsen]

Fucked my way up to the top - Wanda Maximoff

DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

Summary: You just got your first job in your life and suspiciously quickly became an assistant to the director of the company. Where's the catch?

Pairing: ceo!Wanda Maximoff × f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, dom!Wanda, sub!reader, age gap (W34 R21), mommy kink, strap on usage (W), blow job (R), pet names

DISCLAIMER: ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE SORRY FOR GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES

Word count: 1.2k

AN: inspired by lana del rey i really love that song

You just graduated from a college you didn't even want to go to. Wrong college, wrong specialty, but as a result, very much the right job. After one day you began to believe in fate and that this entire chain of events in your life was a blessing from above. After all if it weren’t for the strong nature of your parents who sent you to study, you would never have met Wanda.

At some point, you thought that you would never find a job in your specialty until you saw the ideal vacancy: the salary, the location of the office, the schedule, the educational requirements, everything suited you. There definitely had to be a catch somewhere. And it definitely was.

“No, put it in its place, I don’t need these papers and coffee right now. I have a meeting Y/N, why answer me i need coffee? Just think for once with your pretty little head.” That catch was your boss, Wanda Maximoff. That's what you thought at first.

You trotted behind her on the way to the conference room; in general, the very fact that the director of the company took you on as her personal assistant was already a great success. Some worked in one place for years and remained as an office clerk. And then Wanda Maximoff took you to bring her coffee, not the hardest job, especially for the money that you were paid.

When you entered the room, the hall was empty. One characteristic feature of your boss was excessive punctuality, you realized this in your first week of work. You took your place at the head of the table next to her when you felt manicured hands rest on your shoulders, stroking them. That was the second thing about Wanda Maximoff, she loved to touch you, a lot. Sometimes she would tuck a stray strand behind your ear, sometimes she would stroke your thigh; in general, such touches from her were nothing new. If you said you didn't enjoy it, you'd be lying. Wet dreams with her began to visit you in the third week of work.

And now, from her touch, you could feel your core throbbing. To your great regret, at that moment the conference room began to fill with people. As important and powerful as Wanda. To be honest, you didn’t understand that such a small employee like you was even doing here.

The meeting lasted about an hour and during this time you could feel with your whole being how tense your boss was. Everything was definitely not going the way she wanted; one of the men opposite was already starting to scream, unable to prove that he was right. The deal was on the verge of failure. “Okay gentlemen, I think that’s enough for today. We’ll continue tomorrow.” Wanda could not stand it and marked the end of this meeting.

When the hall was empty, the woman sat down in a chair with her legs spread, a sigh escaped her lips and one hand again lay on your thigh, squeezing it. "Fucking bastards." She muttered and your gaze caught the older woman's pants. She wore an expensive formal suit with a bulge imprinted on the trousers. Your eyes widened, your breath caught in your throat as you wondered what her purpose was..."See something you like?" You jumped at the question, scared that you had been caught. One of Wanda's hands strokes your thigh, moving up closer to your already dripping pussy while the other massages her fake cock through the fabric of her pants. You look at her expressionless face and nod in response to the question.

"On your knees". The chair moves back with a creak, giving you space. You stand in front of her to look into her eyes, darkened with lust, for a second and fall to your knees. Hands immediately reach for her trousers, sorting out the belt and pulling them off along with her underwear. A red strap jumps out in front of your face and you start to get nervous about the size. “I don’t think it will fit..”. You are interrupted by a grip in your hair. "Don't worry baby girl I'll make it fit now suck my cock."

She guides your head towards her length and you curl your tongue around the tip as if she can feel it. You raise your eyes and look at her, and then shut your mouth on her dick, feeling tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Her palm cups your cheek and her thumb wipes away drops of moisture, “Oh my sweet girl wants to please her mommy so bad.” She helps you by guiding your head up and down her length, your panties are hopelessly ruined and you squirm, looking for some kind of relief. Wanda lifts her hips so that your nose touches her stomach and holds you like that for a few seconds. When your boss lets you go, your makeup is hopelessly ruined and you gasp for air.

"Such a good sweet girl. Do you want mommy to put her dick inside you? Do you want me to stretch you out and fuck you until you forget your name?" You are still kneeling in front of her and a pathetic whine comes out of your mouth, “Please mommy I really need you to fuck me.” Wanda likes your answer and growls, she pulls you to your feet and then bends you over the large office desk. Your cheek is pressed against the cold surface, the older woman has already hiked up your skirt to your waist and is stroking your throbbing pussy through the fabric of your cotton panties.“My, my, you’re already absolutely wet and I haven’t touched you yet. Do you like sucking mommy’s cock so much? Maybe next time should I fuck this beautiful, capable mouth mmm?" A sharp slap on your ass makes you gasp. "Yes yes please I will like it so much.”

Your underwear falls to your ankles and the tip of her cock teases your throbbing clit and then runs through the folds, collecting your arousal. Without warning, she fills you to the edge and started to pound at a slower pace than you would like. You gasp from the stretch "Mommy it's too big. Feel so full." Her pace increases, her hand finds your swollen clit and rubs it making you cry. "That's my good girl. Taking me so well. Come on baby mommy needs to de-stress after these bastards." Wanda leans over you and bites your neck as she continues to pound into you at a faster pace, your velvet walls starting to clench around her length. "Oh fuck Ms. Maximoff I'm close I gonna cum." Wanda’s cock hits that nice spot inside you so deliciously, pushing you inexorably to the edge. "Come on baby, cum for me. Show mommy how good she fucks you." Her fingers rub your sensitive bud faster and you see stars cumming all over her cock, crying out inaudible curses into the silence of the office. She continues to move, prolonging your orgasm until your breathing evens out.

She pulls out her faux cock and then a pair of strong arms turns you around so you're face to face so she can press her lips to yours in a leisurely kiss. Wanda walks back to sit back in her chair, holding you by the waist, pulling you behind her so that you sit on her lap. “I was not mistaken in choosing you as my assistant.”

[fungal-rot]

Lazy Mornings

pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

summary: pre-outbreak; what better way to start your morning than with some love?

warnings: smut (MDNI), no real plot, unprotected p-in-v, joel being the absolute horny sweetheart he is, use of ‘pretty girl’ and ‘good girl’ — also please note that this is the first fic i’ve wrote in a WHILE. i’m very rusty lol

word count: roughly 1.1k

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

     Ah, lazy mornings. What a blessing.

The bed was warm, comforting with two bare bodies from the night before just sharing each other with legs intertwined. Light shined through the curtains, birds sang their morning songs. All was well.

Joel was the first to wake. His brows pinch together as he took in a sharp inhale, eyes still closed as he adjusted to the invasive sunbeams entering the bedroom.

He turned his head over his shoulder, opening his eyes and blinking as he squinted at the alarm clock sat on the end table.

8:23

He turned back and a quiet yawn parted his lips as he lazily tightened his grasp around you, just barely pulling you closer.

Joel watched as your chest rose and fell with each soft breath you took and his gaze lowered, taking in the sight of your breasts and the faint mark he left on your skin from last night. It made his heart quicken.

Moving back up to your face, he smiled to himself, drinking in the sight. He'd never tire of waking up next to you.

He lowered his head, lips hovering over your neck before placing a delicate, soft kiss to the area. His gaze would flick up, watching for movement as he continued down to your shoulder.

You let out a muted groan, eyes flickering behind closed lids as your body shifts. Joel only smirked as his kisses grew more fervent.

"Joel?" You quietly spoke, voice breaking slightly and eyes finally opening. Your head tilts a bit into the pillow, giving him more access to the junction between your neck and shoulder.

"Mornin'." Joel rasped out and subtly moved his hips, adjusting himself so you'd feel his morning wood grow and twitch along the cheek of your ass. He then pulled you flush against his chest, and he gently nipped at your pulse point, letting his teeth graze against the area before soothing it with his tongue.

You moaned and unconsciously backed yourself against him, eliciting a hushed grunt from him.

Joel moved his hand from your torso and placed it on your thigh, gently tapping the surface to wordlessly tell you to spread for him.

You did so, of course you did, and he couldn't contain the grin growing on his lips as he placed his hard cock in between your legs. He slowly rocked his hips back and forth, the head of his dick brushed against your clit each time and made you whine out so softly for him.

He continued his motions, collecting your slick on his length before finally notching at your entrance and slid in, inch by inch.

The man could make himself at home in your cunt; so warm and wet and inviting. You practically sucked him in. He stilled momentarily, just wanting to savor the feeling of being buried deep inside as if it were his last time.

Then you made an inaudible sort of noise and tactfully slid back and forth on his cock. That's when he decided to move.

Each pump from his hips were slow, careful. He wanted you to relish this just like him.

"You're s'fuckin' beautiful, baby." He murmured, lips ghosting against the shell of your ear.

"Could stay buried in ya'll day."

Your hand reached behind you, placing at the back of his head with a low moan.

His lips were parted as he panted softly, cheeks barely flushed with a light red hue.

Joel then grabbed your chin, turning you to face him so he could press his mouth against yours, hungrily sucking and biting at your bottom lip while his thrusts became more urgent. Skin against skin echoed of the walls and he looped a hand in the crease of your leg, hiking it up and delved deeper inside you.

The kiss broke with a loud gasp followed by a lewd moan sounding from your chest, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Joel continued grunting in your ear, saying words of praise while his other hand entangled in your hair before closing with a slight tug.

"Fuck, how're you so tight?"

Joel then slipped his middle finger into your mouth and you happily close your lips around the digit, tongue swirling and swiping against it.

With a satisfied hum, he pulled the thick finger from you and snaked his hand between your legs, circling and pressing against the bundle of nerves, causing an immediate reaction of your hips.

“I think this pussy was made for me, darlin’,” Now his ring and index finger came into play, spreading your lips for him so you’d be nice and open. “Takin’ me so well, like y’always do.”

Not long after, you reached your climax. Your stomach tightened and your walls clenched and fluttered around Joel’s length with quiet cries of his name, completely drenching the sheets beneath the two of you.

“That’s it, baby, take what ya need,” he placed a loving kiss to your cheek this time before hiking a leg over your body and relentlessly drilled into you. One arm slinks under you and he palms at one of your tits while the other arm wrapped over your stomach, once more pulling you close against him in an intimate embrace.

“Fuck, pretty girl- ‘M gonna cum. Y’gonna be a good girl an’ let me cum inside ya?” He asked breathily, brows creasing and eyes screwed shut as his thrust grew sloppy.

“Please,” you reply with a nod, your voice airy and small in your blissed-out state.

That was all the confirmation he needed. Your own name spilled from his tongue in a desperate whine as he shot rope after rope of his release; the head of his cock still kissed at your cervix, even after he stopped moving. He wanted to stay like this, hold you and feel you for just a second longer.

You could feel his chest and soft stomach press against your back with each labored breath he took, then his arms around you loosened slightly.

“I love you,” He whispered and finally pulled out, using an elbow to prop against one of the pillows as he leaned down to press a quick, gentle smooch to your forehead and trailed down to your mouth.

“Love you,” you mumbled back with a lopsided smile, lips puckering half-heartedly to meet his.

Joel then spent the next fifteen minutes cleaning you up, finding you fresh clothes to wear while muttering tender, endearing words to you.

When the two of you were dressed, he offered a faint smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and cradled your face in his hands.

“Let’s getcha somethin’ ta eat, hm?���

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

anyways, like i said, it’s the first time i wrote anything in a while. i hope you enjoyed. feel free to like, comment, reblog!

[coff33andb00ks]

Until You - Part Three

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four charles leclerc x female pop singer!reader x oscar piastri f1 smau with intermittent scenes

Summary: they drive vroom vrooms, she sings soulful tunes. there's no way in hell this is gonna work, right?

Warnings: language, smut (18+ only)

ynyln has added to their story

[caption: local guide gets lost / best guide ever / fun fact: Oscar sings when he's taking pictures of someone]

"This is so beautiful," y/n said once she'd made her way back to Oscar. She couldn't stop looking out at the view. "If I lived here I'd want to come up here every day."

Oscar chuckled, nodding as he handed her phone back to her. "I moved here recently and the other day was my first time coming up here. I think it's gonna become a regular thing, though."

"I bet it's gorgeous at sunset."

He nodded, sipping his water. "Have you seen the sunset over the water yet?"

"Not yet. Is it nice?" Spreading her jacket on the rock, she sat down, wanting to enjoy the peace and quiet for as long as possible.

Oscar hummed, sitting near her. "It's quite lovely."

"I'll make sure to see it before I go." She wondered if he would want to see it with her. If she was stupid for thinking there was some sort of connection between them.

"Maybe we can see it together." He looked surprised that the words had come from him, and she was further charmed by the faint blush staining his cheeks.

"It's a date," she said softly.

He sighed, and she felt the weight of it roll away from him. Propping his arms on his knees, he cleared his throat. "I'd like that."

"You like being away from it all, don't you?" she asked suddenly, unintentionally mirroring his posture. Resting her cheek on her arm, she watched his face as he considered the question.

"I like peace and quiet occasionally. To remind me of who I am." He shrugged.

"Me, too." She looked out at the sea.

"Do you get to get away from it all? Ever?"

"Not as much as I'd like," she admitted. "I love my life, Oscar, I do. I love that I'm blessed and privileged enough to be able to do something I love and see the world while doing it. And I get a high that can't be matched when I'm able to stop singing and hear words I wrote sung back to me by thousands of people. But I sometimes feel like I always have to be 'on' you know? Like—"

"Like you can't be yourself, or worse, losing who you truly are," he finished.

"Exactly," she whispered. "And for two years I was under even more scrutiny."

"Were you miserable the whole time?"

"Not at first. I think it was a year ago that I realized we were just pretending. In my heart and head I broke up with him then, and that's where a lot of my angsty songs came from for this tour." She sighed. "But you don't want to hear—"

"I do," he promised gently. "Rolling in the Deep?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Wrote it after we had a fight where he threatened to leak my nudes."

"Christ," Oscar groaned. "Anti-Hero?"

"All things he said were wrong with me."

He shook his head, looking out to the sea. "What a fucking cunt."

"It doesn't hurt as much as it did," she admitted.

"It made for some great music, but I'm truly sorry you had to go through that," he said. "No one deserves that."

"Thank you." She watched him watch the city beneath them. "Why do you have to be reminded of who you are?"

"Same as you I reckon. I'm able to do something I love and see the world and I'm so grateful for that, but… Sometimes I feel like it's a dream and it's all gonna be snatched away." He looked at her. "Youngest driver on the grid and all, you know? And I started later than everyone else, so sometimes I worry that I don't have enough experience."

"Like you're faking it," she guessed.

"Exactly. And I'm under scrutiny because of my age, because I did so much before getting here, and…" He sighed, shrugging slightly. "What if I don't meet expectations?"

"So you still think you have to prove yourself?"

"I don't think, I know I do. I haven't had a win yet. The sprint, but that doesn't count. I'm only ever right behind."

"You'll get there."

"You think?" he asked.

"No, I know you will."

They sat in silence for several moments, and she was aware of the time quickly slipping away. Far below she could see Monaco coming to life for the day and clung to the peace on this little mountaintop.

"Who did you write Enchanted for?" he asked.

Her heart thrummed violently in her chest and she followed a boat with her eyes as it pulled into the harbor. "Someone special."

"Ah."

"Has there ever been anyone you admired? That you didn't know but you knew of and you built them up in your mind?"

"…Yeah."

She could feel his eyes on her but she kept her gaze on the harbor. "He's that for me. And I was worried that it would be like it sometimes is, where I'd meet him and it would be a letdown. But… It wasn't. I was… Enchanted. And I'm only more so every time I see him."

"Does he know?"

"I hope he does," she whispered.

"He sounds like a lucky guy."

"I don't think he thinks he's lucky. Pretty sure he thinks he's worried he won't meet expectations," she murmured.

He was silent for eleven seconds. Y/n knew because she counted them, each one feeling like an hour. And then… "What about Charles?"

"He's enchanting too, but in a different way."

"Y/n?"

She swallowed hard and slowly turned her head to look at him.

"I built you up in my mind, too."

"Was it a letdown?" she asked, too scared of his answer to exhale.

"I wouldn't be here if it was," he said in a rush.

She awoke as soon as his alarm started. Behind her he sighed, pressing his face tighter against her neck. When she reached for his phone he groaned, catching her hand and holding it to her chest. "Charles… Time to get up."

"No," he sighed.

"It's quali day," she enticed, slipping her hand free and stretching to silence the alarm. He didn't budge and she laughed softly.

"I like it right here."

She was still a little surprised that he hadn't even attempted to have sex the night before. After their talk he'd kissed her sweetly then given her one of his shirts to change into. Then, he'd held her. He was still holding her, as he had all night.

"Ten more minutes?" he whispered.

Y/n nodded, because she did love the comfort of being in his arms. She contemplated setting a timer just in case they went back to sleep, but felt his lips against her skin and understood he didn't want ten minutes more of sleep. His hand slid down and he huffed softly when he felt Leo curled up in front of him.

"Five seconds," he murmured against her shoulder, and she could only giggle softly as he sat up, smoothly pulling Leo from her and sliding out of bed.

She rolled onto her back to stretch, squealing when he was almost immediately returning, lying over her and catching her in a gentle kiss. Stretching her arms above her head, she arched then reached to help him shove the covers away. "Charles," she gasped, legs falling open for him.

He nuzzled her neck with a soft groan, pulling back and leaning away to yank open the nightstand drawer. He was back in seconds, drawing her into a series of kisses that had her growing warm. His fingers trailed down her sides then back up, sliding his shirt up, pulling away long enough to slip it over her head. "Si belle, mon amour."

His hands were everywhere, making it impossible for her to focus on them as they stirred and spread heat, lips meeting hers again when a hand slipped between them. She tried to mirror his touches, felt his cock pressing against her thigh while his fingers traced her slit.

Deepening the kiss, he shifted, slipping the condom into her hand then bracing his hand beside them. His fingers teased briefly and he chuckled breathlessly, lips moving to her ear as he rubbed along her slit, working up to her clit. "So sensible," he whispered after she cried out softly.

"Sensible… Sensitive?" she whispered, her meager French falling apart as his fingers worked her clit so expertly.

"Oui… Une si bonne fille." He nipped at her earlobe and she felt him smile while her hips lifted, pushing tighter against his fingers. Her body flooded with heat and he moved his fingers harder, moaning the words over and over as the wet sounds grew louder.

"Don't stop," she panicked when she felt him leaning back. He gently shushed her, fingers hard and fast on her clit, licking his lips as he looked down. "Fuck, Charles—"

"Yes, ma bonne fille," he encouraged. "Cum for me, hm? Let me hear you."

She was almost ashamed of how quickly she came once he said the words, her hips lifting off the bed as she screamed for him. His fingers eased while she trembled, then slid away, his hand gently gripping her hip. One breathless kiss later his hand slid over hers and she hummed, reaching to help him put on the condom.

There was a brief fumbling as he settled between her legs, his hands running up and down her legs. He breathed in to speak, but she only heard Leo's soft whine from outside the bedroom door. Charles exhaled harshly, head dropping to her shoulder when she giggled. "Fuck, Leo."

"Sorry," she kept giggling, tangling her fingers in his hair.

"Will your Oscar be jealous too?" he murmured, and her laughter stopped at once.

"He's not my—" She gasped, head falling back, as he entered her.

"I don't mind sharing." He spoke directly against her ear, hands gentle on her thighs, fucking her slow.

"Really?" She was surprised but wasn't, and she wished he'd told her this when he wasn't buried inside her, because that made it a little hard to think properly.

"Yes, mon couer," he moaned, lips pressed to her ear. His hands gripped her thighs tightly as she arched and whined, his lips dragging down her neck when she threw her head back.

"Charles," she gasped, tightening her hold on his hair. He lifted his head, chuckling softly as he leaned to meet her lips with his.

"Again, amour." One hand shot up, gently cupping her throat as he thrust harder.

"Oh my god," she squealed, digging her nails in his back.

"Is good?' he whispered and when she gasped out a yes he kissed her deeply, swallowing her cries. The world seemed to stand still while his lips and tongue worked hers with perfection, thick moans rising up his throat. Her hands moved up and she mirrored the tenderness he was showing her, lightly running her fingers up the back of his head, other hand gently cradling his cheek. Squeezing her eyes shut, she let out a sharp cry as she came. And could only gasp into his mouth, hands trembling, as he came a few moments later.

Finally she recognized the ringing in her ears as her phone going off with texts. Groaning, she tried to focus Charles and his sweet kisses, pouting a little when he pulled out.

"You are too popular to have your ringer on," he teased, grabbing her phone off the nightstand and setting it next to her. "Tell her we're getting ready."

She nodded, stretching and humming before picking up her phone. Like him, she assumed the texts were from her assistant. Unlocking the phone, she sighed as Charles stayed over her after throwing away his condom. He must have felt her tense when she read the texts, because he made a questioning hum, sitting upright.

"Not y/bff/n?" he asked.

She sighed, turning the phone so he could read the texts. He scoffed, muttering rapidly under his breath in French and Italian and though she wasn't sure what the Italian was she knew the French and agreed with him calling her ex a crybaby bitch.

"Send him a photo."

About to block the asshole, she stopped, staring up at him. "What?"

"Send him a photo, mon couer."

Without thinking, she snapped a picture of Charles, enjoying his warm laugh while she cropped it and sent it to Justin. She showed it to him and he only laughed harder.

ynyln

Liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others

ynyln: I'm at the age I can date you or your dad 💋 📷: charles_leclerc

↳landonorris: is this some secret lyric I don't know?            ↳ ynyln: not everything is a lyric, lando            ↳landonorris: it usually is with you            ↳ ynyln: I'm not that bad ↳landonorris: great photo by the way ↳ynyln: thank you sweetie ↳oscarpiastri: amazing shot. Glad you got to see the sunset. Did dad scare you on the yacht?            ↳ynyln: no he was very careful. You were right, it was quite lovely. You'll have to come with us next time            ↳charles_leclerc: you're always welcome            ↳oscarpiastri: it's a date            ↳user3: wtf is going on am I the only one who's confused ↳charles_leclerc: can you?            ↳ynyln: depends on the dad            ↳landonorris: now I'm confused            ↳ynyln: go back to your own comment thread

ynyln

Liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, scuderiaferrari, and others ynyln: Winning one's home race is special. It's more symbolic and emotional than all the other podiums throughout the season. Over the years I have watched grown men cry over the "hometown boy" – and shed more than a few tears myself. But this time, it was extraordinary. Congratulations, Charles. The so-called curse is broken. It was a privilege to meet you, but an honor to get to know the man behind the visor. C'est incroyable, mon amie. ❤️🤍 ↳charles_leclerc: Merci, mon beau porte-bonheur. Tu es incroyable. (liked by author)          ↳ ynyln: I'm not a lucky charm          ↳ charles_leclerc: for me you are ↳ user3: our girl's fallen again 🥺 ↳ oscarpiastri: so incredibly proud of dad           ↳ ynyln: he's proud of you too           ↳ user6: wait what if her post about "you and your dad" was about oscar and charles?            ↳ user7: ok grandma let's get you back in bed

ynyln

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren, charles_leclerc, and others ynyln: My favorite driver has become one of my favorite people. Your drive and passion are inspiring. You are amazing and I hope you know how proud Team Piastri is of you today. My tears were just as much for you as that other guy. Thank you for letting me tag along and annoy you with my singing and bad jokes. Pain au chocolates on me tomorrow. (Maybe no hike though?) 🧡🧡

↳ oscarpiastri: You're one of my favorite people, too. And I'll always say yes to pain au chocolate with you. 🧡      ↳ynyln: Ergo I'm blushing ↳landonorris: Team Piastri?? 😒      ↳ynyln: Don't be jealous ↳mclaren: Your paddock passes for Canada are being delivered tomorrow     ↳ ynyln: 🙏🏻 ↳charles_leclerc: that other guy is proud of him too     ↳ ynyln: ur boy did good 🥹

ynyln

liked by georgerussel63, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and others ynyln: Some favorite photos from Monaco week. Amazing doesn't cover it. Thank you, scuderiaferrari, for welcoming me into your fold this week. This week healed me in ways I will never be able to describe. Tagged: charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris, georgerussel63, lewishamilton

↳scuderiaferrari: You are always welcome to our garage, YN. Truly an honor making your wish come true! ↳landonorris: I'm tagged but there's no photo of me?      ↳ynyln: um you're in the pic with Oscar?      ↳landonorris: you mean my hand??      ↳ynyln: Fine, I'll post the pics I got of you sleeping.      ↳landonorris: No!      ↳mclaren: YES ↳oscarpiastri: It was enchanting to meet you      ↳ynyln: I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home      ↳user3: WHAT      ↳oscarpiastri: This was the very first page, not where our storyline ends      ↳ynyln: My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again      ↳user4: WHAT IS GOING ON ↳georgerussel63: Blimey slide 3 is a good photo      ↳ynyln: I spent the week playing my favorite game: Formula One driver or European model? ↳lewishamilton: Lunch this week?      ↳ynyln: Only if you bring Roscoe ↳user5: the drivers really said "YN belongs to us now"|↳charles_leclerc: Monaco is lonely without you. Revient bientôt, chérie.      ↳ynyln: compter les jours      ↳user4: oh he's down BAD

oscarpiastri has added to their story

[caption: miss you already] replies: ↳landonorris: um mate? ↳ynyln: i'm literally right beside you ↳mclaren: delete immediately [story no longer available]

charles_leclerc has added to their story

[caption: ❤️❤️❤️] replies: ↳ynyln: stop i'm gonna cry - when did you take this?? ↳scuderiaferrari: you have to delete this      ↳charles_leclerc: No ↳maxverstappen1: why does everyone have sexual pictures of her?      ↳charles_leclerc: because we are lucky

Taglist:

@lichterfee | @formulaal | @a-beaverhausen | @dullypully | @wobblymug | @apollosfavkiddo | @callsignwidow | @saachiep81 | @midnights-lily | @waterlilypat | @kiwi43-81 | @fastfactory |

[renku]

Catering Demand and Need

Loossemble Yeojin x Male Reader

“Yeojin, what are you doing down there?”

“Nothing, oppa... You took so long to get here,” Yeojin playfully twirls her hair while still exposing her thighs out, “I’m kinda lonely here without my unnies...”

“Now’s not the time, Yeojin.”

Yeojin pouted and climbed on the couch, slouching to show her disappointment.

What am I going to do with her? This old, repititive question is almost a million dollar question in Mathematics that the most brilliant minds in the world try to solve. But Yeonjin is on another level. Try with all might and sheer will, it’s always her—Yeojin always, always wins.

Letting a sigh as a sign of defeat before sitting beside her, Yeojin knew that it’ll happen no matter what—she will prevail.

“Baby girl?” soft yet manly tone, a maintained balance of persuasion and dominance. Yeojin must know she’s the one in need, and the one that needs to earn it.

No answer. As expected. Yeojin’s habit of putting the act for a bit longer serves as her trump card. Just to get this over with, let Yeojin have it her way.

Felt the touch from your index finger on her silky thigh, gradually sliding upward until it reaches the hem of the laced white dress. Inaudible gasp escaped her lips, and goosebumps spread all over her.

“Still not going to answer, baby girl?”

Yeojin is a tough cookie to break. Well, you already did literally before but it’s the attitude. She could just gave a nod or a simple 'yes' or 'no' to make things easier. If a newbie managed to survive the job as her manager, it’ll be a breakthrough. But here you are, still on the same role and job.

It would only be a matter of time before the others arrive. Compromising others’ time and schedule would spell disaster. Raising the hem of her dress, a pleasant smell greeted your nose—fresh rose scent from her favorite feminine wash, and visual blessing by means of a matched red-laced panties; enough to increase the blood flow in all the right areas in your body.

As much as you want to tease Yeojin first, it’s just simply impractical and dangerous at the current circumstances.

Grabbing and pulling her undergarments in one go; almost breaking it at the process. Your hands found their place in Yeojin's petite cheeks—oh, for the love of Venus—supple and irresistible.

“O- op- uhm– Daddy?”

Thank God, she finally spoke. And she just used her ultimate move. The perfect trigger—climbing to the level of overdrive.

“Yes, baby girl?”

“Will Daddy punish me for not behaving good?” Yeojin turned around to look at you with her half-lidded eyes. Fuck. So vulnerable yet ruinable.

“Yes, my baby girl needs to learn again to listen.”

Spreading her cheeks there lies her impatient lubricated cunt; dripping, already forming a pool on the couch but it doesn’t matter anymore. Unbuckling your belt with haste to push down your pants and briefs in one go just enough to let out your raging cock.

“All fours, now.”

Yeojin didn’t even hesitate for a second. She got herself into position right away.

A two, quick strokes on your cock before lining up yourself in her entrance. The glans kissed her labia, making Yeojin whimper.

“Hmmp–”

“Still not used to this, baby girl?”

“It’s just– Daddy’s cock is too big for my pus– AH!”

Not letting Yeojin finish as you pulled her waist to penetrate her deep right away. Tight. Warm. Wet. Perfect. Words could not even experiencing the real thing. Its grip like it's holding on for its dear life? Priceless. That is why you can keep with Yeojin and her stubbornness, when there’s a sweet prize only you and you can claim.

Your hips knew what they suppose to do—starting from a nice, good rhythm gradually increasing tempo. Clapping sounds growing stronger each second.

“Yes- oh- oh- fuck- yes, daddy! I miss your big cock so much!” Yeojin really screams her heart out in happiness, or pleasure, or both in general. Her cute, lewd voice—the same one she uses to record their songs which her fans enjoy. Well, you couldn’t totally blame them. It’s an earcandy.

“Shit. So good- ugh!” you grunted.

Dirty, filthy sounds—moans, whimpers, two fleshes clapping against the other, and compliments of how two bodies give each other pleasure—are what filled the room basically. You and Yeojin may not admit it but you can’t get enough of each other. It’s like a need that turned into addiction. Yin-yang. Light and dark. Good and bad.

But like everything else, there’s always an end. Your phone rings, and the ringtone is specifically assigned for the group. They’re about to arrive in no time. Time to finish the business and thankfully Lady Luck is on your side.

“Yeojin, fuck, argh, I’m close!”

“Yes, Daddy! Do it inside! Breed me, fill me with your cum!”

Even without her words, you’re about to do it anyway. Spraying all your semen on the couch is not a good news for the others.

“I'm cumming!”

With your final forceful thrust, burying your cock deep inside, ropes and ropes of cum reached her womb, painting her insides. Yeojin’s still tight pussy milking you out—baby girl claiming her prize. She also came as her spasms were noticeable; her body barely keeping steady from her position. Upon slipping out your cock, you pulled her panties back immediately to avoid any droplets of cum reaching the couch.

Yeojin was exhausted real good. But she has to fix herself before the girls see her ruined and messed up.

“Get up, Yeojin. Your unnies are coming. We need to fix ourselves and everything else before they arrive.”

“Ok... yes, oppa,” she said, her voice showing signs of fatigue.

~~~

After making sure no trace was left on the crime scene, the girls arrived just on time. The assistant manager was the one who handled them for the meantime. They looked tired on the ride going home.

“Oh, manager-nim, Yeojin, you two are here already? How lucky!” one of the girls said.

“Just need to talk about something with our lovely maknae,” you replied.

“What is it?”

“Oh, nothing serious. Just a few reminders from the company.”

“I see. Well, we better go to bed it’s already getting late.”

“Right, right. Shall we, Yeojin?”

“Yes, manager-nim!” she responded with such enthusiasm, and winked at you before going to her room.

“Oh, please,” you sighed, as the exhilarating job of keeping up with them especially Yeojin, continues. Sadly.

A/N: Purely BFH and done in one sitting. Seeing Yeojin was just- hoo, nevermind. Anyway, the fic is unedited so forgive me for a few mistakes. Have work tomorrow but still finished this using the writing juices I have. Hope you enjoy! Have a good day, or night!

- Ren :)

[prodbymaui]

My Kind Of Love

spit in my mouth while you turn me on

PAIRING: mark lee x reader

GENRE: the idol

WORD COUNT: 1.5k words

WARNINGS: ice play, oral sex, spit kink, cum eating, slight voyeurism (ig?)

SYNOPSIS: You had an extra time after your photoshoot. What's a more worth it way of spending it other than visiting your favorite producer, Mark?

A/N: inspired by one of 'the idol' scenes where lily wears a red robe and somewhat seduces abel. enjoy reading!

SONG: One Of The Girls by The Weeknd, Jennie, Lily Rose-Depp

A click, and the pleasantly smooth sensual melody begins to fill the entirety of the recording room. Mark hums, nodding his head in the flow of the beat, elbow resting on the armchair as his forefinger ghosts over his lips. His fingers taps against the table, mind running as he searches for parts to improve.

Not even finished listening to the verse that he just worked on, Mark's hand hovers above the keyboard once again, quickly adjusting and adding what he thought the song lacks.

This needs a few more layers, Mark thinks. So he slides his chair to the other side of the table where the mic settles and closes his eyes, there he harmonizes with his own voice, layering a mellow adlib underneath the sharp yet slow rap. 

Just as Mark opens his eyes, the door opens without much of a knock, and turning around, he meets a vixen clad in red silk robe, a mesh black tights with black suspenders attached to what Mark likes to think is a sinful lace panties in the same color.

There's no way in saying Mark doesn't enjoy the view that he is blessed with. His eyes rakes down your figure, coming back up to meet your lustful gaze. The corner of your lips curves just a little before you take steps towards the man. His legs spread to have you in between as though instinctively, hands itching so much that he couldn't help but to grab your waist, squeezing just enough to feel your body heat seep through the silk fabric.

Water droplets fall onto Mark's skin, it is just then that he notices the glass of whiskey you're holding. ''Drinking alcohol late at night, huh. Tell me, darling,'' Mark leans back. ''What got you prancing around the company with just a thin piece of clothing to cover those nipples?''

You sip once more, holding Mark's stare for a few seconds before licking the liquor that sits on top of your lips' skin. ''Was doing a photoshoot for my new album– decided to pay my favorite producer a visit before changing. I just had a hunch he'd like to see me in this.''

Your words elicit a scoffy chuckle from Mark. He stands up. ''Favorite producer, hmm?'' His palm travels down and stops when it reaches your ass cheek, gripping lightly.

While Mark's other arm circles your waist, he noses your neck, closing his eyes as Mark allows himself to get drunk on your scent, kissing the pathway your throat creates. Pulling you closer, Mark nips your skin occasionally whilst he makes way to your jaw, soon connecting his lips with yours.

Mark swiftly delves his tongue in your mouth, sucking as you offer him your own. If words are to be chosen to describe the kiss, it'll be slow, sensual, and sultry. Just like the song that plays from the speakers surrounding the two of you.

Abruptly yet effortlessly, Mark spins your position and gives you a little push, pinning you down now that you're sitting on the chair. One of his legs separates your thighs apart, welcoming himself between you. Distracted from the way Mark delivers pleasure just from having his mouth on yours alone, you didn't notice how Mark steals the glass out of your hand and places it behind you, out of danger but is enough for him to reach it as well.

Suddenly, a freezing palm comes in contact with the back of your neck. Flinching, you whimper at the cold, tugging Mark's shirt. Instead of taking his hand off, he pulls away from the kiss, not without licking the string of saliva first. In contrast to the icy palm, a warm one rubs your side soothingly, it then nudges your robe away, revealing your nipples.

A sigh leaves your lips, fingers brushing through Mark's locks as you feed him more of your hard buds. Mark growls in satisfaction. Catching it between his teeth, pulling lightly, tweaking it with his fingers and sucking before licking the faint pain away. He does the same to the twin, spitting on it only to lick it away after biting it a few more.

''God, I fucking love your nipples. So fucking sexy. So pretty– always ready for me whenever. If I want to suck on them the whole day, you'll let me, right baby?''

''Yes– Haah– yes, lick them all you want. Ahh..''

Thinking you'll finally get his cock as Mark hums lowly, pecking each of your nipples, you fiddle with his belt. But Mark pins you to the chair again, kissing your forehead as he stretches his arm behind you.

''It's getting hot in here, darling. Would you mind a little raise in the temperature?'' Your eyes fall on the cubes of ice that melts inside the glass, you look up at Mark. One look and you know this is a way to ask consent. To ask you if you're down to try a new thing. Without hesitation, you nod.

Mark tilts his head to the side. ''Words, love. I need your words.''

''Yes, please..''

He brushes strands of hair off your face. 

''Good girl.''

Gulping the last sips of whiskey, Mark gives your lips one last swipe of tongue, letting you taste the alcohol. Pressing the glass on your inner thigh, shivers shoot up your spine. You bite your lower lip to endure the cold, toes curling as Mark spreads the icy droplets along your stomach up to your neck. Your eyes are closed, anticipating Mark's next move when you jerk in your seat, hand enclosing around Mark's wrist as you whimper, opening your eyes to see him tracing the line between your pussy cheeks with a cube.

''Fuck, really..? Not wearing a fucking underwear while a bunch of people watches you pose in front of the camera? What if they saw this, baby? Imagine the fucking headlines,'' Mark chuckles. ''A rising pop idol foregoes wearing panties during a photoshoot because they are desperate for someone to fuck them. How would your fans react to their lovely artist acting like a whore, my love? Would they like it as much as I do?''

Mark nudges your legs open, and as you do, the ice dips and lands exactly where your pulsating clit awaits. ''Fuck..'' You sigh.

''Yeah?'' 

Getting on his knees, Mark situates his face in front of your soaked core. He plays with the cube a little more until it melts completely and eases the cold with the warmth of his mouth. Mark laps and sucks, slurping your juices as he buries himself in your pussy, grunting on how your walls clench around his pink muscle.

Soon, his fingers join his tongue. Curling and prodding at your spot that sends your back arching, hands gripping the armchairs as you let your lewd moans bounce off the walls of the recording room. When Mark deems you're stretched enough, he pulls away and tugs his pants down enough to release his cock, tip in angry red shade.

Resting one leg on the armchair while pulling the other over his shoulder, Mark slides home. Groaning as your hot walls impressively engulfs his girthy cock like no other. Once he's deep and snug, Mark picks up a maddening pace, not giving you time to adjust nor get used to his size.

''A-ah! Ah ah ah! Mark– slow down… You're so big–... s-so big–!'' Your face scrunches up; eyebrows meeting, eyes shut tight, mouth open.

''I am, darling. And you love it.''

Your arms underneath Mark's, landing on his back. As Mark angles his hips and jabs at your spot, your eyes cross and your nails instinctively try to draw red lines along Mark's back but his shirt prevents it from happening. So instead, you opt for grabbing a handful of the fabric, tugging them as your hips unconsciously bucks to meet Mark's thrust.

The chair creates a continuous squeaking sound, continuously thudding as it bumps against the soundboard. Mark reaches to hold the back of the chair, spreading your wider. He renders his thrusts deep and hard, an action that slacks your jaw which allows drools to roll out past your lips and to your chin. Mark leans forward, spitting on your willing mouth before licking the strings of saliva and connecting your lips together. It cannot even be considered as a kiss because it is all panting and moaning against each other's mouth.

''Right there! I-I'm gonna cum.. fuck, Mark, I'm gonna cum! Shit– Mark! Ugh fuuuuck..'' Together with the drawn out curse is your eyes rolling to the back of your eyes, walls clamping down on Mark's cock as a white cream forms a ring around him.

The sight of you coming while moaning his name, Mark pistons his hips violently as he lets lust take over his mind and body. His thrusts becomes erratic and vigorous, and with an encouragement of words from you, Mark fills you up to the brim, his legs embarrasingly shaking as though he was the one who got fucked and not the one who s.

As Mark pulls out, he curses under his breath at the sight of his cum spilling out of your pussy. If that isn't the hottest fucking thing. You know what makes this hottest shit even hotter? Scooping his cum, feeding it to you while he fishes out a yet to melt ice and kisses the shit out of you, sharing the whole serve of the mixture of his cum and yours.

A/N: wrote this in an attempt to get out of slump so I apologize if it's not as good as my other fics. hope you enjoyed, nonetheless! share your thoughts?

[inklore]

listen as a namor whore (namwhore?) i think that he loves marking you as his like man would go nuts with the hickeys and bruises (and bite marks too). on the off chance he lets you return the favor he’s surprised by how much he loves seeing the love bites and bruises on his own godly self >:)

pairing: namor x princess!reader

word count: 962

warnings: eighteen+ content, mentions of p in v but not shown, teasing, bites and marking, established forbidden relationship.

note: ok see i love this concept, this take, this thot!! but i fear he’s not completely into you returning the favor because for him it’d be more of a ‘i want everyone to see and be reminded who you worship to’. and i think he likes to stay looking proper to his people, but he does let you get away with bites left under the shorts!!

You were supposed to have left your room and met your mother and the council minutes ago—almost an hour ago you now see as the clock on your bedside reflects back to you in the mirror you’re standing at. Trying to right yourself back into looking presentable, kept, like you’re not running late because the man at the foot of your bed used his sweet siren song of pretty compliments, and words that had you out of your dress just as fast as his fingers had torn at the undergarments underneath it.

Leaving your balcony door open for him was seeming more and more like a curse than a blessing.

Letting him come and go as he pleased, when he cared to visit you after days of being MIA. Sometimes only noting his presence with a saltwater covered gift he’d leave at your doorway, when you’d stayed up as long as your body would allow to. As you waited to see if he would come to you; or when duties like council meetings and required dinners were demanded of you—events a Princess was supposedly meant to attend.

You’re surprised your mother hasn’t sent someone to fetch you. You expect it anytime now, ever the punctual woman your mother was. Being tardy was surely going to get you a stern look and deep questioning.

“Jats'uts,” he mumbles against your shoulder.

Beautiful.

Pretty.

Your heart soars, fingers only wavering a little as you do your best to right the necklaces adorning your neck. Your body having just been molded pudy in his hands mere seconds ago. Your thighs still sticky from having his mouth and cock between them. Your legs still feel that heady wobble from post orgasm. Your mind and body still coming off of that beautiful precipice of want and desire, of falling against his body like you couldn’t stand up straight, or function properly, without him being there to sink into—or onto on most nights.

You had told him how urgent it was that you make it to this meeting. How he needed to turn around and make his way back to his beloved ocean before someone saw him, and your mother had both of you locked away.

A threat he laughed at. A threat you knew meant nothing to someone as powerful as him; a God.

“If this were Talokan I’d make our people come to you. You’d never have to lift a finger, princess.”

Our people.

As if there were some alternate reality in which that could come to formation. Where the two of you would rule as equals and not something forbidden, and secretive.

There had been too much death and destruction on both sides, from both of your people, for either groups to be happy to be ruled by the both of you.

But the fantasy was nice to dream about—get lost in the idea of actually being able to flaunt your love instead of hiding it.

When his arm wraps around your waist your body works on instinct, on knowing the hands and warmth of the man that’s touching it. Guiding it into his chest to lean and rest against. His lips brushing at the side of your neck, mustache burning your skin.

“Or you could stay naked, spread out for me. Waiting for my return while I handled everything.”

“Mm.” You let your eyes close as you grin, “no responsibilities other than pleasing my king.”

“Precisely.” His teeth take a hold of your sensitive skin, his tongue following after the sting like a salve. Making your body tremble against him, a gasp falling from your lips. “You’d never want for anything. I would have it brought to you. Made for you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to you, princess.” His mouth repeats it’s actions against your neck, his hand creeping lower to the start of your thigh.

That ache between your legs quickly making a home once more at your swollen clit.

“K’uk’ulkan,” his name falls from your lips, practiced, known, worshiped—as you moan softly. As you let him suck and bite at your skin, letting his words coax you into that fantasy world you want so badly.

You don’t come back to reality until you feel his fingers start to pull up the bottom of your dress, the cool air against your damp underwear bringing you back down from that building high.

“Nononono,” you pull away from him. Untangling his arms from your body and sending him a scowl at the way he’s smirking at you. “I’m already late because of you!”

“My apologies, princess.” His hand waves towards the door, “don’t keep your people waiting any longer.”

“I won’t! You-” your quick movements stop abruptly when you see it, when the deep hue catches your eye in the mirror. And maybe it’s half your own fault for not stopping him, for once again falling victim to the hot-tease of manipulation of his beautiful words.

There’s words of anger and disbelief in the back of your throat, ready to come up and spill over at the man whose eyes are locked onto yours in the mirror. Who is still wearing that signature cool as can be expression, that you really want to slap off of him.

Your mother was going to kill you.

String you up as a pariah!

“My mother–”

“Will not be pleased, no.” He finishes for you. Steps back into that space behind you, returning his heat to your back. His thumb runs along the bruised area, eyes gleaming at his creation before flashing back to yours. “But now everyone will know you belong to someone.”

You belong to me.

Unspoken in words but not in the way he presses a kiss to the love mark, lips soft and endearingly sensual.

[bump1nthen1ght]

Silver and Gold (M!Siren!Reader x M!Pirate Captain)

Pairing: Male!Flirty!Siren!Reader x Male!Pirate Captain

Genre: Pirates, Flirting, First Meetings

Word Count: 2570 words

Warnings: N/A

Summary: For living a life in a sailor’s death trap, you think you’d be used to handsome pirate captains, rushing headlong into adventure. But something about today’s quarry seems different.

Request May I request a flirty male! siren! reader with a male gruff pirate captain? I'll leave the details up to you! Love your works by the way, take all the dang time you need. :3

A/N: Alright now THIS one should be accurate to the request lolol. You guys get a two for one special!

Life in the Dragon’s Teeth was shockingly boring.

Its reputation is infamous, the majority of sailors being sensible enough to leave it well enough alone. Of the people who dared to enter most were young and braggadocious sailors looking to prove their worth, who often made for quite boring sport. They always thought they were somehow better than siren magic, that pure belief could beat an enchantment powerful enough to literally make men wantonly fall to their deaths.

Bo-ring.

You think, watching one such ship entering into the gorge, men lined up the sides like pigs ready for slaughter. Your ravenous siblings all leap for the chances, hiding behind treacherous rocks or laying alluringly on outcrops, all ready for a taste. Despite the ship you all sank just one week ago, their bellies never seem to fill.

You however, have grown tired of this. Too easy, too monotonous. Maybe it’s time you finally spread your fins and leave the gorge, head into open water and explore the seas. Would be much more interesting than this, that's for sure.

You roll back over on your fins as the siren’s begin to sing, a haunting chorus bouncing off the chasm as the ship deftly avoids the rocks. Rolling your eyes, you daydream about the Great Barrier Reef, wondering if it’s as magnificent as they say.

But then-

“Ugh, come on!” A particularly voracious sister of yours hum to a tune of discontent, harshing her usually sweet melody. “I’m hungry! Why is this taking so long?”

“I don’t know.” A more rational brother of yours whispers, just loud enough for you to hear from your outcrop. “They should be overboard by now.”

That’s enough to have you turning over, eyes lazily sweeping over the ship, now deep in the Dragon’s Teeth. To your surprise, every sailor still seems hard at work, keeping mindful of the edges of the ships, but fulfilling their duties. Even the watchman at the crow’s nest, isolated as they are, stays perched and at the ready, looking over at your beckoning family with nervous yet un-enchanted eyes.

Now this is new.

You slide down a mossy outcrop, slipping in between the confused masses of your siblings, whose songs grow more and more discordant. Some have even swam up to the sides, clawing at the bows and preening like young pups. Still, the sailors ignore them, not paying any mind.

For a whole ship to be free of a whole horde of siren’s is a shocking thing, a terrifying thing, a wonderful new thing. You have to know more, so you crawl along the rocks, exploring the entire hull with watching eyes. 

Is there some boon they’ve brought with them? Did they find a witch and ask for safe passage? Has Poseidon himself blessed their voyage?

You wander from man to man, trying to find a hint of any wills breaking. But while curious eyes occasionally steal a glance at your siblings, curiosity is its reason, not compulsion. Any who dare get a sharp retort from the man at the helm, though they hardly deem to notice.

It’s then you realize, all these men are deadly silent. Not a peep between them, not even shouting orders. Except the helmsman, all the others silently following a preapproved pattern, a routine.

Oh, and what a helmsman he is.

It's easy to see how much better dressed he is than his men, a crimson coat that falls to his knees, closed by several belts and buckles over a ruffle white shirt. Gold studs decorate up and down his ears yet he is sparsely decorated elsewhere. Long black hair peppered with gray is tied in a low ponytail, healthy and silky despite a life at sea. His beard is less maintained, more scraggly, split apart by the occasional scar across his jaw. His boots are polished leath, not a scratch or stain on them, and his trousers are well fitted. Especially across his buttocks, which you take the time to appreciate.

The other thing that catches your eyes are his hands. Hands which swiftly attend to the wheel, in fact are tied to the rudders. His breathing is labored slightly, his cheeks darkened from focused exertion. Still, he keeps his eyes straight, shouting loudly to a young third mate who dares to ean over the side of the ship. The man ignores him, up until the captain kicks at a nearby can into the man's leg, shocking him to attention.

Oh, I see.

Seems you’ve found yourself an interesting prey.

—

Royce felt like a fool.

All his life he’s been a pragmatic man. Where other Captains gambled, brawled, and squandered their lives in stupid feats of bravado, he had always kept a level head. Sure, he’s a pirate and knew to have some fun, but he always did so with care.

He had weighed his options heavily before deciding on the Dragon’s Keep. It wasn’t easy, nor without risk, but the quickness of the route and the assurances of his men had convinced him. His plan would allow them to reach their next port in half the time, beating out any other rival crews to what was rumored to be an excellent bounty. He had even concocted a plan to ensure casualties would be at a minimum, scrounging for texts and stories about the fabled place to be best prepared.

But he had just been so goddamned curious.

“Cotton in the ears, huh?” 

A melodic voice knocks Royce out of his focus, thanking the gods for his resilience and not flinching at the site of the siren, now hoisted up the side of his ship. He thanks his foresight in tying his hands to the wheel, knowing that even without a song, the siren could easily lure him to his death.

“It’s a good plan, surprised you’re the first to think of it. There’s always a risk of course, that we’d be louder, but it seems they’ve packed those eardrums full.” The siren drags a clawed hand across the railing. The siren has a more human disguise, fins and teeth and scales all out to show. It does not make him any less alluring. 

Glowing yellow-green eyes dance up and down the captain’s form, a black tongue wetting the siren’s lips.

“So why not you, Captain?” The title drips out of the siren’s mouth like honey, his beck arching as he relaxes along the railing, precariously balancing his weight yet not a care in the world. “Is it supposed to be a challenge, a test of your willpower?” Sharp eyes dart to his tied hands “Or just plain ego?”

Royce takes a deep breath, meeting the beast’s gaze. He is a proud man, maybe too proud, but he’s not stupid.

“I am an example for my men, siren. I cannot be bested by a simple song.”

“Hmm, a likely story.” The siren sits upright, tail now swung over and onto the ship. He leans forward, a gleeful look in his eyes. “You are doing rather well. Most men would have torn their arms clean off by now.” A heat lingers over Royce’s arms, the siren’s gaze covetous. “It would’ve been a shame, they seem like very nice arms indeed.”

Royce tries not to feel flattered. These are games, that is all.

“I have faced many challenges in my life. None of them have claimed me yet.”

Royce keeps the details to a minimum. He’s content that he’s able to keep his composure this much, the siren testing his strength.

The siren’s laugh is as frightening as it is charming.

“Ah, so ego it is. Though you seem smarter than other idiots who have tried it before.” The siren goes back to his tied hands, to his tense posture. “And far more handsome. Awfully bold, coming into a territory like this looking like that.”

Royce scoffs. 

“Are you here only to play with you food, beast? Or do you find joy in plying me with compliments instead of singing?”

“Ooh, some sass! Good to know your words are as sharp as your sword, Captain.” The siren licks his lips. “And that jawline. My, my, I think you put even my kind to shame.”

Royce rolls his eyes, only making the siren laugh more. It seems that this Siren is less interested in eating him and more in entertaining himself.

“I have to ask, most others who pass through here are looking for a fight. A chance to prove themselves. You seem rather content on passing through, your men as well. Why come through this place?”

Royce stays quiet, thinking over any potential danger in revealing his plans to siren. If anything, nothing could be more dangerous than the position he is in now.

“It’s the quickest route. My men seemed up to the challenge, and so was I. We’re pirates, it’d be unbefitting for us to cower away from the riskier route.”

The siren nods. “True, true. Still, quite a risk indeed.” The siren flashes a smile full of glittering fangs.

The ship rocks, several of his men thrown to their knees as a stray rock scrapes against its side. The siren rocks with the waves, easily keeping his balance.

Royce grits his teeth. Is that what this was? A distraction? But the siren seems disquieted, slightly annoyed.

“Gah, fucking ridiculous that lot. So gluttonous.” The siren leans over, hissing an angry song. Royce almost wishes for the cotton, but finds no compulsing rhythm.

The ship stops rocking, the sound of rushing water as sirens fall to the wayside. The cacophonous songs fall to the side, though some still linger, waiting for a fortunate accident to occur.

“This place you're going to, will it have adventure?”

Royce raises his eyebrow.

“One would hope. Treasure too.”

The Siren’s smile is giddy, almost like a child.

“Then it’d be a shame if you got stuck here, then.”

The siren leans over the side, raising his hand, pointing to the portside.

“You’ll want to turn 20 degrees. There's a hidden outcrop that will cut through your hull.”

Royce grits his teeth, but follows the siren’s instructions. The ship sails smoothly, barely rocking.

“Now 10 degrees.”

  Royce turns again, just missing another jagged set of rocks. Sirens hiss in the water, Royce’s companion hissing back.

“Seems dangerous, betraying your own kind like this.”

“Bah, they’ll survive. They’re not even hungry, just peckish.”

The siren eyes him up and down again.

“Though you have me absolutely ravenous, Captain.”

Royce focuses on the wheel, hoping the siren doesn’t see his ears tips turn red.

—

This is definitely the most fun you’ve had in the while.

The Captains is as cunning as he is handsome, deft hands talented with the wheel. He peppers in anecdotes from his times at sea, a casual tone for such riveting stories.

In between instructions you take the time to eye him up more, those thick thighs and that strong back. You weren’t lying, he does put some sirens to shame.

“You’ll want to avoid those.” You point toward a deceptive spot of calm water. “The area alone sank an entire Navy Ship once. We feasted for weeks, though the meat was less than exemplary.”

“With only military rations, I’d imagine they aren’t very tasty.”

“Exactly! Gods, you’d think I’d be the only siren with taste around here.”

You see the faintest of a smirk from The Captain, which he quickly stomps away. He shares your dark sense of humor, quite fitting. You’ll get a laugh out of him yet. “15 degrees, starboard-side.”

The Captain follows with ease, your directions trustworthy by now. The crew still seem wary, unaware of the conversation due to the cotton in their ears, but they continue their work. Either their trust in their captain is strong, or they're too terrified to disobey in such treacherous waters.

The sun has begun to peak through, the end of the gorge insight. Your mind is slightly conflicted. A sadness, that the most interesting person you’ve met will soon be on his way. A glee, that this might be your best chance to leave the Teeth and explore the world.

The Captain clears his throat.

“It’s got its ups and downs, pirate life. Plenty of boring days, plenty of dangerous ones, plenty in betweens.” The Captain’s eyes stay on the horizon, safety so close for him and his crew. You smile.

“Would this be one of the ups, or one of the downs?” You wave to the jagged rocks, to the hungry eyes that linger from the water.

“I’m still undecided.”

You and your arm on the railing, watching the tides front the gorge clash with the ones outside.

“Still, it’s better than the same thing everyday. I think that's why most men go to sea, for the adventure, the undiscovered.”

Your eyes must be sparkling, minds filled with whales, sea turtles, with sunken ships and glorious battles.

The sun now speckles the hull of the ship, men visibly relaxing as the bow breaches the Dragon’s Teeth and splashes into safe waters. No one removes the cotton from their ears, however, still aware of your presence.

“I must thank you for your service, siren. I do not think we would’ve made it through unscathed if not for you.”

“____, It’s ____.” You say, eyes still on the wide ocean, on all the possibilities.

The Captain smiles, a familiar longing in your eyes.

“And it’s no problem. I think you’ve helped me more than you know.”

You whisper, heart thrumming. 

“You could join us, you know.” That has you whipping around, eyes wide. “I think you’ve proven yourself more than trustworthy. Besides, it would be helpful to have someone as powerful as you aboard.”

Your heart rises, bubbling up with excitement. But the fearful gaze of the rest of the crew still stings on your back, hackles raised.

“I think I’m gonna go out on my own for a while.” You hum, tapping your claws against wood. “See the world, really prove myself.”

The Captain keeps the quiet, nodding along silently. 

You sigh. Just a couple of hours with this man and you’re already melancholy to leave. For shame, ___, don’t you know better?

“Well, it’s a big ocean, Captain. But I’m sure we’ll see each other again.” You ready yourself on the rail, sitting upright and pivoting your tail to the outside of the ship. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be especially hungry next time.”

The Captain smirks, clicking his teeth.

“I’ll put up a hell of a fight, ___.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will-”

“Royce, the name’s Royce. Captain Royce.”

You smile, scaly cheeks glittering like diamonds in the sun.

“Until we meet again, Captain Royce.”

You give him a wink, eyeing up that gorgeous body of his one last time, and jump tail first into the ocean.

His ship fades into the sun as you swim away, hopeful that you’ll bump into it again one day. A day when you’re more worldly, have more adventurous stories to share.

You eye up the reef, several sirens slinking away, discontent with their food stolen. Whatever, they’ll get over it.

Your older sister might be a little upset about your abrupt departure, but she’ll get over that too. After all, she often leaves to visit that pirate paramour of hers, so what's the big difference?

Hell, maybe next time, you’ll come back with one of your own.

[doomhands-jr]

The Devil's Advocate - Chapter 3

Noah Sebastian X Reader

Noah is a delinquent with a lot of anger at the church. You're a pastor's daughter plagued by moral perfectionism, charged with overseeing the community service he's been sentenced to complete. You've never encountered true temptation before. How will you fare up against Noah, who not only isn't bound by the same rules of purity as you, but actively scoffs at them?

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Masterlist

Banner by @flowerynerds

Wheeeeeeee!

________

“Heavenly father,” Isaac began. “We ask that you bless this practice session. Allow us to spread your love and light through our music and give us the opportunity to reach the souls that need to hear it. Amen.”

“Amen,” the rest of you repeated.

“Alright, friends. What songs do we want to play this week?”

“I’ve been leaning towards How He Loves Us,” said Darian.

“Okay. I’ll need to refresh myself on the chords,” said Isaac. “Everyone on board?”

You nodded along with the others, but as they talked over the song list, you found yourself losing focus. Your eyes drifted over to the front of the stage, where you and Noah had sat on Saturday.

You were always so sure that if presented with temptation, you would be able to resist. It had never once entered your mind that there would be a situation in which your resolve would be tested.

But there on those steps, with Noah looking down over you, you knew you would have let your body take over and do whatever it wanted. For the first time in your life, you weren’t sure you could trust yourself with someone—and yet, you weren’t convinced it was a bad thing.

Okay, were you ready to lose your virginity to him? No. That was a big step to take, considering you’d only ever had one kiss in your life, but you couldn’t deny that you were eager to explore your sexuality more, and that had never been something you were willing to do outside of marriage.

Noah’s logic had you questioning the rules that had been instilled in you. He seemed to think that the rules, particularly those surrounding sex, were not worth following. He had such a confidence about it that you were dying to question where he got it from and what his reasoning behind it was.

Something tugged in the back of your mind, though. Isaac had cautioned you about spending time with him, and how he could lead you down a bad path. You felt yourself straying from what you had always believed, but were they right? Were you being led into a life of sin?

Or was it more complicated than that?

“Okay, everyone clear on the set list for this week?”

You nodded, even though you weren’t clear, but you’d pick it up easily enough. You could always ask Ava if you needed help.

“Hey, can I talk to you a minute?”

It was Isaac. He was closer than you remembered him being. “Sure, what’s up?”

“I was wondering if I could get your help with something?”

“Okay?” you said, waiting for him to continue.

“So I want to put together a Christmas concert. I could use your voice. And your help with setting it up if you’re down for it.”

“Halloween isn’t even over,” you said.

“These things take time to arrange. It’s better if we get a head start.” He flashed a smile at you and rocked back on his heels, visibly eager for you to agree.

“What all would I need to do?” you asked.

“Really, I just need you to sing the soprano harmonies. And to spread the word about it. Maybe hang some fliers or something. See if any of the women in your dorm want to come. I’m thinking this could be a great outreach project if we maybe add an alter call or something at the end.”

You didn’t want to. You knew you didn’t want to, but you needed something to focus on that wasn’t Noah and the way he had you questioning everything about yourself. 

“I’ll think about it,” you said.

“Yess,” he hissed, already taking it as a begrudging agreement, instead of a consideration. “Promise you won’t regret it.”

“Uh-huh.”

The rest of the session was spent practicing the songs for the upcoming service. You wished you had the ability to stay focused, but all you could think about was the softness behind Noah’s eyes when he looked at you, and how eager you were for Saturday to arrive.

______

“Noah can’t come,” Nick said, walking up the concrete pathway that led to the church ground. “He got roped into working overtime at the factory. Won’t be off until 3.”

“Oh,” you said, trying not to let your disappointment show. “Sucks for him.”

“Not really. At least he’s getting paid,” he said. “Otherwise he’d have to be here, doing work for free.”

“Right,” you agreed. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“So what’s on the menu for today?” he asked, sounding much more chipper than last week.

“Sorting donations. Our church is holding a drive to help families in need. We’re sorting clothes by size and gender—,”

“Gender is a construct,” he cut in.

“Okay, so by size and masculine vs. feminine then.”

"And what if it's gender-neutral?" he asked.

You sighed. "Use your judgement."

“Got it,” he said and punctuated it with a nod.

“And then if we get done with that, we’ll sort toys by age, and then food by type and expiration date.”

“That sounds like a lot.”

“You shrugged. We’ll just do as much as we have time for.”

You led him down into the basement of the worship center, where all the donation boxes were stored.

“Start with that box. We’ll start sorting it based on gen—er, feminine verses masculine first. Then we’ll do children’s versus adults, and after that, go by size. Feminine clothes go there, masculine over there, you said, pointing to piles on two different tables.

“Sounds good,” he said, picking up a box and getting to work. You got back to work sifting through the box you’d been working on before he had arrived, picking up the clothes, judging which pile they belonged in and whether they were in good enough condition to rehome.

“Make sure you check for things like stains and tears. We don’t want to be sending people damaged things.”

“Got it,” he said.

Nick paused to remove his black hoodie, and you allowed yourself to sneak a glance over at him while he worked. He wore a black shirt with the sleeves cut off, exposing tattoos on his arms, though not nearly as many as Noah. He was more muscular than you realized, biceps flexing and relaxing as he folded the clothes.

“I see you staring,” he said and you looked up at him to find him smirking at you.

“I was looking at your tattoos.”

“Sure you were,” he said. “Go ahead and stare. I don’t mind.”

“I wasn’t staring,” you said, looking away from him and back down to the pile of clothes you were sorting.

“And here I was thinking I’d finally caught the Virgin Mary in an act of lust.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

He slid out from behind the table he was working at and stood next to you, picking up a shirt from the pile in front of you and checking the tag.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Just thought you looked like you could use some help over here.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine.”

The pair of you worked together in tense silence. You had to admit, the work did go much faster when he was helping. Nick worked hard and rhythmically, settling into a pace that easily bested yours. Every so often, his arm would brush up against yours, and you couldn’t figure out if it was on purpose.

“My god, who donated this?!” he exclaimed after a while. You looked over and he was holding a pair of bright yellow children’s pants with a brown stain across the back, his face scandalized.

You snorted loudly. Nick caught it and his face lit up with his own laughter, and the two of you devolved into a fit of giggles.

“We should probably toss that one,” you said after regaining your composure and pointed to the trash can in the corner. He agreed, balling the garment up and tossing it into the trash, easily sinking it into the basket even though it was across the room.

“Do you think the rest are contaminated?” he asked.

You shook your head. “The organizers washed all of these in big industrial washers. It’s just a stain. Still gross though.”

“Still gross,” he agreed.

“Alright, since we’re almost done with this box, I’m gonna grab the next one,” you said, but before you could even try to lift it, Nick had stepped in front of you, hoisting it easily up onto the table with no effort. Impressive, considering you’d been struggling to even lift the boxes of clothing yourself.

“Thanks,” you said.

“No problem. Hey, so you know how I always say you could use more fun.”

You paused folding the shirt in your hands and raised an eyebrow. 

“Don’t give me that look. You know it’s true.”

You maintained your cool expression.

“Well, we’re doing a Halloween gig tonight at Jolly’s. You should come.”

You considered it. If the band was playing, that meant Noah would be there, and you’d get to see what he’s like outside of community service. It sounded tempting, but—

“I already committed to handing out candy to trick-or-treaters with the worship team.”

Nick let out a sound of annoyance. “Are you always doing church stuff?”

You laughed. “Kind of.”

“Well, what time does it go until?” he asked.

“I think trick-or-treat ends at 8:30.”

“Perfect,” he said. “The party doesn’t even start until after 9:00.”

You considered for a moment, not sure if it would be a good idea.

“I can practically hear you talking yourself out of it.”

“It’s just…,” you began.

“You’re worried you’ll get pulled into a life of sin?” he finished. “Come on. It’s one party. You don’t even have to drink.”

You thought about it. It could be interesting to see the band perform. Get an idea of the kind of music Noah’s into.

“Can I bring a friend?” you asked.

He chuckled, “sure, if it’ll get you to come.”

“Okay. Where should I go?”

Nick smiled. “Where’s your dorm? I can pick you and your friend up there at 9:00 and we’ll head over together.”

“Sounds good.”

“Oh, and wear a costume.”

_______

“No way! Really?!” Ava half-shouted.

“Don’t go crazy. I’m bringing you to be my accountability partner,” you said. “Make sure I don’t make any bad decisions while I’m there.”

“What bad decisions would you even make?” she said, “You’re the most responsible out of all of us.”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I’ve never been to this kind of party before, so I don’t know what to expect.”

“We’ll be fine,” she said. “Don’t be such a worrier.”

She had a point. You doubted you were going to do anything. But then again, you had experienced your first real temptation only a week ago, and had Nick not walked in, you weren’t one hundred percent positive you would have resisted.

Only time would tell.

_________

Trick-or-treating went smoothly. You and the rest of the worship band got dressed up in your costumes and handed out candy from the steps leading up to the church. Other organizers in your congregation had set up a mini obstacle course for the children, and a table full of apple cider and glazed donuts stood beside it, with many members of the church gathered around it.

These were the kinds of events you loved helping out at. There was such a sense of community that made you feel like you were part of something greater than yourself. Seeing the joy on everyone’s faces made putting up with the more annoying tasks well worth it.

Ava dressed as a medieval princess in a flowing white and pink gown. Isaac went as a pirate. Darian and Josh wore matching “Thing 1” and “Thing 2” costumes. You were dressed as your favorite historical president, but with a twist. The kids loved your costumes, but their own costumes were just as creative.

Part of the event that the church put on involved a costume contest, where the winner would receive a gift certificate for free pizza, soda, and dessert at the local pizza restaurant. It wasn’t much, but the kids had gone all out for it.

You and the worship band were in charge of judging the costumes, and after much deliberation between the robot (your choice) and the wolverine (Isaac’s choice), the robot eventually won out.

“It had blinking LEDs and functioning buttons with sound effects!” you said, when Isaac was salty about the outcome.

“The kid had home-made retractable claws! Do you know how much engineering that takes?”

“Sorry. The results were fair.”

“Whatever. What are you guys doing after this? Want to go bowling?”

“Actually, we already have plans,” Ava said.

“Oh? Where are you going?”

“We were invited to watch a local band.”

“Oh nice. Where is it? I might want to stop by.”

“Oh, uh. I actually don’t know. Our friend is going to pick us up,” you said, growing nervous.

Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “Which friend?”

You shifted, not knowing how to answer him. 

“It’s the delinquents,” said Ava, unconcerned with the tension that had grown. “Calm down, we’ll be fine.”

Isaac looked at you as if you had told him you were going to a strip club. “That sounds like a really bad idea,” he said. “Are you sure about this? Do you want me to escort you?”

“Yes I’m sure. And no, we don’t need a chaperone. It’s just listening to a band.”

“Yeah,” said Isaac. “A secular band.”

“Isaac chill. She asked me to be her accountability partner. She’s covered. Now if you’ll excuse me, we have to get going.”

Ava grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you away. Isaac looked like he wanted to follow, but thought better of it and turned away.

“You’re welcome for that, by the way,” she said when the two of you were out of earshot.

“Thanks. I owe you,” you said. “What’s his problem?”

“He doesn’t like them. He’s been talking to me about it. He believes they’re bad news, but I think he’s just jealous, to be honest. You’re no longer paying attention to him the way you used to and he knows it.”

“What a crybaby,” you said.

“I mean, can you blame him? You spent the last several years at his beck and call, and now suddenly you dip.”

“That’s not exactly fair,” you said. “You were the same way with him.”

“Yeah, well, maybe both of us are to blame.”

“You might be right.”

You and Ava reached your dorm, where Ava stripped off the overskirt of her dress, revealing a much shorter version of her costume, complete with knee socks and heels.

“Whoa!” you exclaimed.

“I told you I wanted to experience life on the other side,” she said. “This is my chance. Don’t judge me.”

“Honestly, I’m more impressed than anything. But I don’t know. Maybe it’s a little much for your first party? Like, should you scope it out first before taking a risk like that?”

Ava shrugged. “I’m tired of the same boring things every day. I could use a little risk-taking.”

You bit back your comments, knowing that you weren’t going to change her mind. She was headstrong, which you loved about her, but it also worried you at times.

“Just don’t get too carried away, okay?” you said.

“I’m going to have at least one drink while I’m there.”

“You’re supposed to be my accountability partner!”

“I can still hold you accountable. It’s just one drink.”

You sighed and rubbed your forehead, acknowledging to yourself that it may have been a mistake to bring her.

“Please just don’t make me babysit you the whole time. I want to enjoy myself.”

“I promise. I’ll keep my wits about me. I’ll have one drink. We’ll listen to the music, maybe do a little dancing. Maybe I’ll have my first kiss, and then we’ll be home by midnight.”

You groaned. “Drinking and kissing? That’s a lot to pack into one night.”

“It’ll be fine,” she insisted. “Don’t worry about me. You just focus on enjoying yourself, okay? This is your first real party. You should be excited for you! Not worried for me.”

As if on cue, there was a knock on your door. You looked at the clock on your phone and it read 8:57.

“He’s early for once.”

You opened the door to reveal Nick’s bare chest with the image of an eagle holding a fish inked onto it. A tiny purple vest barely covered his shoulders.  “Aladdin?” you asked.

“At your service,” he said, lifting the fez he wore up in salute.

“Nice,” you commented. “Nick, this is Ava.”

“Princess Ava,” he said, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. “I like your costume.”

Ava burst into a fit of giggles at the flattery. “Yours too.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” you said to Nick, already knowing what he was thinking. You saw his eyes scan up and down Ava’s legs.

“What are you supposed to be?” he asked. “A sexy founding father?”

“Baberaham Lincoln,” you clarified, fiddling with the fake beard to ensure its placement.

He scanned you up and down. “I guess I see it,” he said slowly. “But to truly pass as a babe-ified version of Lincoln, I think you need to be a little sexier.”

“I wore red lipstick,” you defended.

“You could stand to undo a few buttons on your shirt. Or tie it up to make a crop top,” Ava suggested.

“I’m good,” you said.

Nick shrugged. “Suit yourself. Come on.”

You and Ava followed him out the door and began your walk towards town. Jolly’s house was supposedly a mile or so away from campus. The wind carried a chill, but Ava and Nick seemed to not notice, too enraptured in conversation. They were obviously flirting, and you’d have to remember to warn Ava about him. And threaten Nick.

The walk was quicker than you expected, and you vaguely recognized the part of town Jolly lived in. The house was light blue with black shutters. It spanned two floors, but wasn’t in great shape. Partygoers spilled out onto the front porch and lawn, all dressed in a variety of costumes. You noticed most were homemade, and you appreciated that, but they also showed much more skin than you were used to seeing and you felt overdressed. You unbuttoned one button at the top of your blouse.

“So ladies,” Nick said, gesturing to the crowd. “This is a party. Can I get either of you something to drink?”

“I’m fine,” you said.  “I’ll take a drink,” said Ava.

Nick grinned. “Excellent. What would you like?”

“What do they have?” she asked.

“Follow me to the kitchen and I’ll show you.” Nick and Ava made their way into the crowd, while you hung back a few paces, wanting to get your bearings before immersing yourself into the sea of people. You scanned the strangers, looking for Noah, but came up empty.

So this was a party. It looked like people were having fun. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves, but it was very crowded and noisy. You wondered if alcohol was the key to enjoying this. Or perhaps knowing more people. Maybe you just didn’t know anyone so it was hard for you to keep from feeling out of place.

You walked up the steps and across the porch, weaving in and out among partygoers and noticing the various costumes. Superheroes, characters from popular movies and comic book series. A lot of people dressed as celebrities, and then more generic costumes like firefighter and nurse. Several girls walked around in black bodysuits with cat ears and whiskers painted on their faces. You wondered if they all knew each other.

Stepping into the house, you were met with a big cloud of cigarette smoke. It wafted into the air and permeated throughout the entire house. There was another smell too that you didn’t recognize, but you guessed was marijuana.

The tile floor was sticky, you noticed. Your shoes peeled away from the ground with each step and you could almost feel the film they were collecting. It was also hot and humid inside the house, with all the bodies that were crammed in.

Electric neon lights flashed all around in the living room, where several people gathered. It looked like that was where people went to dance. In the kitchen, Ava and Nick leaned up against the counter while Nick poured some red liquid from a large Hawaiian Punch container labeled “jungle juice.” He handed it to Ava and she smiled up at him. His hand went to rest around her waist and she blushed. You’d have to intervene eventually, but for now, you wanted to let Ava have her fun.

You took a swig of water out of the bottle you’d tucked into the inside pocket of your blazer, which was quickly growing too warm. You couldn’t abandon it though, or else nobody would know what you were dressed as—not that it mattered much. Everyone was focused on their own thing, and nobody was paying attention to you.

You found yourself a corner of the living room to stand in and you leaned against the walls, watching the guests as they danced. Some were dancing on each other. Some were making out, while others danced with abandon, twirling their arms above their heads and jumping up and down. It reminded you of summer camp, when you’d do the same thing. Dance with reckless abandon to the worship music—although the context of this dancing was wildly different.

You missed being a kid and getting to participate in all the different activities in the church. Now that you were an adult, you’d taken on more of an organizer and leadership role, overseeing all of these activities. You liked the work, but had much more fun when you were a kid, before all the responsibility kicked in.

A tall figure coming down the stairs caught your eye and you recognized him immediately. He hadn’t seen you yet, and you were perfectly content to watch him from afar.

Noah was dressed in all black. He had switched out his hoodie for a tank top, which displayed the full scope of his tattoos. He wore his hair tied back, but on his head sat a pair of shiny, dark black horns. He held a glass beer bottle in one hand and sipped casually from it.

As he made his way through the crowd, it soon became clear he was one of the more popular guests. Several people went out of their way to greet him by offering high-fives, fist bumps, or by tapping their drinks to his. A couple women were more affectionate—they greeted him by throwing their arms around his neck and wrapping him in a hug, and it was hard to admit your own jealousy to yourself. Noah could have female friends, and it wasn’t a betrayal of whatever small connection the two of you had established. Even still, it was uncomfortable to watch.

You could see the moment he spotted Nick, as he immediately made his way over to them. You were relieved to see he greeted him with more enthusiasm than anyone else. Nick introduced Ava, who shook Noah’s hand. You could see on her face that while she was just as taken aback by the abundance of tattoos as you were originally, she was visibly interested in learning who this newcomer was.

Ava said something else to Noah, who smiled and laughed, and then Nick chimed in, but you couldn’t hear any specifics. In response, Noah perked up and turned to scan the room. Nick leaned toward his friend to mention something else, pointing in your direction, and when Noah finally spotted you, he nodded and started in your direction.

That was your cue to come out of your little secluded corner. Locking eyes with him, you noticed he wore a pair of contacts that completely blacked out his eyes and made him look like a demon, which you supposed was the intent. Despite that, you were warmed by his smile.

When he reached you, he greeted you with a gentle hand on your shoulder and you found yourself wishing you had worn something sleeveless so you could feel the full effect of his touch.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Noah asked, curious but pleased. “And what are you supposed to be?”

“I’m Baberaham Lincoln!” you said. “I thought more people would get that.”

Noah paused, scanned you up and down, and then doubled over in laughter.

“Thank you,” he said, and surprised you by wrapping you up in a warm hug and pressing you into his chest. “You made my night.”

Noah was very sweaty, and you could smell the slight sourness of body odor on him beneath the patchouli scent, but that didn’t detract from how much you enjoyed the embrace.  

“Are you dressed as a demon?” you asked when he finally pulled away.

“Something like that. I didn’t put much thought into it. Just wanted to look scary.”

“Well, it did the trick,” you said. “Your eyes are kind of freaking me out.”

He smiled down at you in response and despite the unsettling costume, you felt your affection for him grow.

“You don’t mind if I drink, do you?” he asked.

“I’m not here to stop you from having any fun. I’m on your turf now.” You had to lean towards him to be heard over the sound of the music and the crowd.

“I’m really surprised you came,” he confessed. “It doesn’t seem like your normal scene, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” you said. Shrouded in his presence, you began to understand the appeal of these parties.

“Fair warning though,” he said, leaning down next to your face so you could hear him. “You probably aren’t going to like our music. It’s not exactly your style.” You were met with the slight pressure of his palm on your lower back, and you wondered if the alcohol had lowered his inhibitions.

“Yeah, I know,” you said, reaching into your pockets and pulling out two foam pieces. “I brought earplugs just in case.”

He grinned, dark contacts not taking away from his genuine delight. “That’s my girl.” Something erupted in your stomach at the nickname. “Hey, come here. I want to introduce you to the band.” He led you by the hand through the party and back out onto the front porch.

“This is Ruffilo and Jolly,” he said, introducing you to two other heavily-tattooed and long-haired men. “You already met Folio, our drummer. Ruffilo plays bass and Jolly pays guitar. His real name is Joakim, but we all call him Jolly.”

“Nice to meet you,” you said, extending your hand to each of them to shake.

“This is that girl I was talking about who oversees the community service.”

“Virgin Mary!” Jolly exclaimed in recognition.

Your face fell and you looked up at Noah sourly.

“Shit,” he said. “That probably wasn’t cool, was it?” he asked.

“No, not really,” you said, stepping away from him.

“Sorry, okay guys. Just Mary. Not Virgin Mary.”

“Man, come on,” you whined, and Noah giggled to himself at his own joke. You realized you were stuck with the nickname, probably for as long as you and Noah would know each other.

“So people keep requesting we play Dethrone,” said Jolly. “I think we should.���

Noah’s eyes glanced over at you and his demeanor turned to hesitant. “No Dethrone,” he said. “I’m not feeling it tonight.”

“Okay, but you don’t get to make decisions for the whole band,” reasoned Ruffilo.

“I don’t know if my voice is up to it,” Noah said. “It’s a hard one to perform.”

Ruffilo sighed. “They’re not going to be happy about it.”

“Maybe next time,” said Noah. “When I remember to bring the Throat Coat.”

Jolly fixed Noah with a look of displeasure, but sighed and relented. “Fine, but don’t neglect your vocal exercises in the future. It’s our biggest crowd-pleaser.”

“Got it,” said Noah. “I won’t.”

Ruffilo pulled out what looked like a hand-wrapped cigarette which you recognized as a joint and lit it up. He took a deep inhale before passing it to Noah, who accepted and sucked back a long drag.

“You don’t mind if I do this, do you?” he intoned, keeping the air trapped in his lungs as he spoke before exhaling a few moments later.

“Not at all,” you said, though something was telling you it was time to take some space.

“Hey, I’m gonna go find Ava,” you said. “You guys have fun.”

“You good?” asked Noah, looking at you with sincerity.

You nodded. “Promise. I just want to check on her.”

“Okay,” he said, taking another drag. “We go on in a few minutes, but I’ll meet up with you after our set. Wait for me?”

“Of course,” you said, softening despite your discomfort.

You didn’t want to leave his side, but if you stayed, you knew you’d be uncomfortable with the situation and you’d already exposed yourself to enough unfamiliarity that night. 

You made your way back into the kitchen, noting that Nick and Ava had moved. You scanned around the house and finally spotted them on the dance floor. He had his arm wrapped around her waist and they were pressed up close to each other. He whispered something into her ear and she threw her head back in laughter.

It was innocent enough, but you’d step in if you felt like you had to.

Wandering through the house, you searched for a quiet spot and a breath of fresh air. You spotted a back door down a short hallway and made a beeline for it, opening to find it a small back yard with a firepit and only a few people standing around it.

You made your way through the yard, past the fire pit and to the back edge where an old shed sat. You leaned against it, closing your eyes and breathing deep. The cool night air filled your lungs, along with the scent of burning wood from the fire.

You were reminded of nights like these spent at church camp during Vespers. Gathering around the campfire and signing along with whoever played the acoustic guitar. Some of the most transformative times of your life happened around those fires. You felt so connected to God. The Holy Spirit permeated through the air, vibrating with intensity and everyone there could feel it. In that moment, you knew that everyone around that fire, no matter where they came from, felt the exact same way you did.

Now, you felt disconnected from your surroundings in an all-consuming way. It was as if everyone else was riding an energetic frequency you couldn’t seem to find and didn’t know if you wanted to. Even Ava, your best friend, assimilated seamlessly into the party atmosphere.

You breathed deeply in and out through your nose and ran your fingertips along the paint that was flaking off the siding of the shed, which served to ground you in the way you needed. You knew you’d have to rejoin the party soon, but you were grateful for this private moment of solace.

As if on cue, the sound of guitars blasted through the back door, demanding your presence. You took out the ear plugs and stuffed them into your ears, the foam muffling the sound and softening the world around you, which had grown abrasive in the last hour or so. _____

The basement floor was damp and even stickier than the kitchen. It was also much more crowded than the upper floor had been now that the entire party was gathered into a single space.

The crowd looked on eagerly as the band set up and did their sound checks. The excitement was tangible and you had no idea Noah’s band had such a following.

“Check. Check,” Noah shouted into the microphone. “I need more in my monitor.” You looked to the back of the room where a small table was set up and someone was running sound.

The sound check took several minutes, but once all the levels were steady, Noah opened his mouth and let out one of the loudest and most demonic sounds you’d ever heard come from a person. You jumped out of your skin, feeling your arm hair stand on end.

Four clicks from Nick’s drumsticks and the entire band joined in, producing a volume even your ear plugs couldn’t compete with.

“Alright you motherfuckers,” Noah shouted. “We’re Bad Omens and we’ve come to steal your souls on this beautiful Hallow-fucking-ween.”

The crowd cheered. Many began jumping up and down in time with the music. The lights flashed from bright green to a deep red, and Noah began to sing.

“Dead on the inside!” 

You never knew live music could be this loud or a crowd this energetic. You’d gone to a few Christian rock concerts, but they were nothing compared to what was happening in front of you.

As the band played through the first few verses of the opening song, the energy of the crowd steadily grew. By the time they hit the crescendo, it looked like a fight had broken out in the audience.

You were immediately put on guard, not sure why nobody else was reacting to it, including the band, when you overserved a few minutes longer and realized that the audience seemed to be…enjoying themselves. It wasn’t a fist fight, you noted. It looked like a bunch of people pushing each other around and flailing their bodies into each other.

Moshing. They were moshing. You remember hearing about it from Isaac, who was into more of the heavier music like The Devil Wears Prada. He said they headlined a Christian music festival he went to over the summer and mentioned that he’d been in a mosh pit, describing what it had been like in vivid detail.

Looking at the audience now, you couldn’t ever imagine someone like Isaac holding their own in a crowd like this.

The next several songs went on like that. The energy of the crowd never died down, and Noah alternated between screaming and singing. You had no idea how his throat could even handle making those noises without bleeding halfway through the first song. You’d have to ask him about that later.

All-in-all, he was right. It definitely wasn’t your preferred style of music, but you could appreciate the passion behind it. Noah’s singing voice was actually beautiful. He hit high notes you’d never heard a man hit before, and he did it with ease. You wished he would stick to that type of singing, but you supposed there had to be an appeal to the screaming, or else the crowd wouldn’t be so lively.

Despite it not being your style, you had fun watching the band perform. Noah’s passion was obvious. He threw his entire body into his performance, letting the music reverberate from deep inside him, and you were content to watch him in his natural habitat.

The juxtaposition was wild. He was normally so closed off and reserved. Here, he was uninhibited. It was like he belonged on a stage and in front of a microphone, and you found yourself feeling happy that he found this outlet for himself.

When the band played their final note, Noah thanked the crowd for coming out and told them all where they could purchase merch and download music.

“Dethrone!” someone shouted from the audience.

“Not tonight, guys. That one’s hard on my throat,” he said.

“Dethrone!” more people shouted. The crowd began to chant over and over again.

“I mean, it’s Halloween. We kind of have to play it,” the man you’d met earlier—Ruffilo—said into the mic.

“Dethrone! Dethrone! Dethrone!” the crowd chanted, and you wondered what kind of song it must be to cause the crowd to react so strongly.

Noah hesitated, looking very torn. He scanned the crowd for a few moments before locking eyes with you and his face held a look of what you could only describe as apology. He held eye contact with you for several minutes, and then he sighed and turned back to the crowd.

“Alright all you fucking cowards, this one’s called Dethrone, and I want to see you tear this fucking place to the ground.”

The guitar came in with a fast and heavy riff for a few bars before the bass and drum joined them. The lights flashed on and off and Noah let out a deep, guttural growl that lasted several bars.

The crowd went absolutely feral. The entire audience began thrashing around and pushing up against one another. Even at the back of the room, you got shoved left and right.

Throughout the noise of the crowd and the screaming you could only make out bits and pieces of the lyrics.

“…when I was killed and born again.” 

“If he’s home I’ve got a message from below. Fuck you.” 

“…Take me to the pearly gates, so I can look you in the eye when I spit in your face.” 

The moment you realized what the song was about, you reached your breaking point. You had to get out of there. You did your best to navigate your way over to the stairs through the sea of thrashing people. You were almost to the steps when someone slammed an elbow hard into the side of your face.

“Ow!” you shouted, but nobody paid attention. You reached the railing and pulled yourself up from the crowd, rushing up the stairs as fast as you could and outside the back door of the house.

You could still hear the song from the outside, but it was muffled enough for you to take a few deep breaths. Your face stung where it had been hit, and you had to shake your hands vigorously to steady yourself.

It was too much. It was all too much. Not just the party and the drinking and the drug use, but the anger of it all. The violence. The deliberate threats made towards the God you’ve known and loved your entire life. The hatred towards Him. And it felt personal. It felt like an attack on everything you’ve built your life around.

You let out a choked sound, no longer able to hold the tears back. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying hard not to make noises in case anyone was around, and stumbled your way to the back of the shed, where hopefully nobody could witness your state.

Inside, you heard the song come to an end and the crowd give one final cheer for the band.

You knew the crowd would be dispersing soon and there was a chance someone would stumble upon you. The yard was completely fenced in and in order to get out, you’d have to go through the house.

You sank to your knees, clutching at the frigid blades of grass, which helped steady you a little. Tears still pouring down, you tried to steady your breathing as best as you can, when you heard your name being called.

It was Noah. You didn’t want to answer him. Didn’t want him to see you like this. In your head, you prayed a silent prayer he would go back into the house and let you compose yourself in peace.

God, however, had other plans.

“Shit,” Noah said as he turned the corner of the shed and found you. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.” He knelt down in front of you, trying to get a look at your face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you choked out.

“Shit,” he said again, noticing your tears. “Come on, let me walk you home.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to go back through there.” You hid your face, feeling ashamed at your own reaction.

“Come on, let’s talk,” he said, grabbing your hand and trying to pull you to your feet.

“I said I’m fine,” you protested. This time it came out sharper. You didn’t want to take your feelings out on him, but you found it impossible to control your tone in the moment.

“Let’s at least get you into a quiet room. Come on, my studio is in this shed. Nobody will bother you. Promise.”

At the promise of a quiet space with nobody to see you, you relented and allowed him to lead you around the side of the shed. He unclipped a set of keys from a carabiner on his belt loop and used one of them to unlock the door, ushering you inside. He relocked it behind him and plugged in a set of string lights that cast the room in a warm, dim glow.

“Have a seat,” he said and gestured to the couch that lined the wall on one side. You obeyed, sitting on the couch and doubling over, arms crossed over your legs and head buried in them. You continued to work to steady yourself.

Noah set a box of tissues beside you, and then rolled his desk chair in front of where you were sitting. He sat facing you, long legs on either side of your knees. Then he placed his hands firmly on your shoulders.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

You nodded into your arms. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You nodded again.

“What happened?” he asked, voice softer now.

“I had a panic attack.” Your voice came out muffled.

“Because of the song?” he said.

You nodded again.

“Shit,” he said for the third time.

“And I got elbowed in the face.”

“Shit.” A fourth. “Can I see?”

You shook your head no.

“Please? I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Reluctantly, you lifted your head to show him.

He let out a compressed breath. “Oof. Yeah, it looks like you’ve got yourself a bit of a shiner,” he said, cupping your face gently.

You refused to meet his eyes, instead opting for a tissue so you could blow your nose. An embarrassing amount of mucus shot into the tissue. Then you pulled a second one to wipe off any makeup that may have smeared.

“Does it hurt?”

You sniffled and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Shit.”

“Is that your favorite word or something?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have warned you about the crowd. I’m so used to that stuff now. I forget what it’s like for someone who’s never been to a show like that before.”

“It’s fine,” you said.

“It’s not though. I’d been drinking. I didn’t have my wits about me, and because of that you got hurt.”

You sighed. “It wasn’t the elbow,” you said, finally meeting his eyes. His brows furrowed with concern and he let his hands slide down to rest on your knees, thumbs rubbing gentle circles over them. You could only handle eye contact for a second before you had to look away again. “Is that how you really feel?”

Noah puffed out a breath. “I didn’t want you to have to see that.”

“I knew you had a lot of anger. But not that much.”

He dropped his head, staring at where his hands rested on your knees. “It must have been pretty jarring.”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I think it was just a lot for me. I was out of my comfort zone all night, and then that happened. I’ve never seen so many people with such…disdain for God.”

Noah dug his thumbnail into your thigh softly and bit his lip.

“I know.”

“Why though? Why all the anger? Why the hate? And why do you hang out with those people?”

“I’m one of them,” he said. “I know it might be hard to digest, especially since you’ve been protected from it for so long, but there are a lot of people out there who feel that way. It doesn’t necessarily make them bad people.”

“But that wasn’t just anger. That was hate.” 

“Yeah,” he said, cupping the backs of your thighs. He still wasn’t explaining anything and you were growing frustrated.

“What am I not getting?” you finally asked.

Noah hesitated, fingers drawing patterns over your pants.

“Not everyone has the best upbringing,” he explained, voice tender. “There are people born into shitty situations and they never receive the help or support they need. Life doesn’t provide opportunities to them the way it does for some others, and after a while, the injustice of it all gets to be too much.”

He gave you an opportunity to respond, but you stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“My parents were addicts. I think I already mentioned it. And I was born in a town where half the people don’t make it to 18 without an addiction of some sort. Ruffilo and I were lucky to escape, but I’ve seen friends and families torn apart by drugs and crime. I’ve seen pregnant 14-year-old girls turn to prostitution to afford their drug habits. Do you know how hard that is to watch?”

You shook your head.

“If God exists, how can I not be angry with him for allowing shit like that to happen?”

You were at a loss for words, humbled even in your hurt.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, squeezing your thighs with his hands. “I don’t judge you for how you feel about God. But I do need you to accept that this part of me exists. And it’s not going anywhere. At least, not for a while.”

A couple more tears dripped from your lashes and landed on Noah’s hands. He didn’t flinch away. Instead, he brought a thumb up to your cheekbones and wiped off the remaining wetness that clung to your lashes.

“Look. I don’t know if I believe in God. But if he does exist, and he’s as loving as you say he is, I have to believe he’ll forgive me for how I act in my anger. I think he’ll understand why that anger is necessary for me to feel, and I don’t think he’d punish me for it. If anything, I think he’d allow me to move through it for as long as I need. Or want me to, even, so that I can process it and eventually move on.”

As Noah spoke, something washed over you like a wave. A tension that had been growing inside of you for as long as you could remember began to release, and with it came a brand new understanding.

“Noah,” you whispered. “Have you ever thought about being a pastor?”

Noah’s face broke into a smile and he huffed out a breath of air that fanned out over your face. He smelled like stale beer and smoke, but there was another layer underneath that smelled vaguely sweet.

“That is the weirdest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“No, I’m serious,” you said with a sniffle, and wiped away another tear. “You know more about God than any church leader I’ve met.”

“I think sometimes it’s hard to see the bigger picture when you’re too close,” he whispered, face now much closer to yours. “I have the benefit of having stepped away.”

You were silent for a moment, digesting the conversation. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore, but you weren’t ready to go back and rejoin the party.

“Can I show you something I’ve been working on?” asked Noah.

“Sure,” you said.

He kicked his feet into the floor and pushed back from where you were sitting, rolling across the floor and over to his desk. He fiddled with a few wires and switches before opening his laptop and pulling up a program.

“I’ve had this melody in my head for a while,” he said, messing with some of the controls before hitting play. “I don’t have any words yet, but I wanted to show you.”

A soft melody began playing through the speakers. Somber. Completely different from any of the songs you’d heard during their set. 

“How long have you been working on this?” you asked as the music played.

“A couple of weeks,” he said, not offering much more explanation.

He wouldn’t meet your eye. Rather, he fidgeted with an auxiliary cable, twisting it around in his hands while simultaneously bouncing his legs up and down softly in time with the drums on the track.

The slow melody held out through the song, but the music grew in intensity, settling into a low-fi R&B vibe.

Seemingly growing restless, Noah spun back around in his chair to face you. He muttered something but you were unable to decipher it over the music.

“What?” you asked.

“I’ve been experimenting with different styles,” he said, a little louder. “Hoping to expand my skills.”

“I like this,” you said. “Definitely more to my tastes.”

He smiled out of the corner of his mouth. “Metal isn’t for everyone.”

“I see the appeal of it,” you said. “I’m sure it resonates with a lot of people, even if I’m not one of them. Your band has a lot of…uh…passionate fans.”

The smile reached both sides of his mouth and he inched closer to you.

“What made you decide to come tonight?” he asked, and you knew it was important for you to be honest in that moment.

“I wanted to see you.”

Like a magnet to metal, Noah gravitated toward you again. There were no false pretenses for why. He wanted to be near you.

Resuming his position from earlier, he sat across from you, legs stretched out on either side of yours. He leaned back in his fancy office chair, and you mirrored him, sinking deeper into the couch.

You watched him watching you, scanning his features for any signals as to what was going on inside his head at that moment. The music played out through the speakers and neither of you made any efforts to fill space or silence. When the song reached its conclusion, it stopped automatically, and it was a while before anyone spoke.

“Does it have a name?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“Not yet,” he said.

“It’s good. I don’t have much music knowledge to say exactly what it is that I like about it, but I can tell I like it. I’d be interested in seeing how it progresses.”

“Good,” he said, arms folded over his torso. He swiveled slightly from left to right, knees knocking into yours as he did.

You looked from your legs back up to his face and he met your gaze. Normally, you’d be the first one to break a silence like this, finding discomfort in the tension, but that night, you waited, wanting to see what Noah would do.

It took a long time for him to crack, but when he finally did, it was to ask you a question.

“Did you do what we talked about?”

You raised an eyebrow, challenging him to be more direct with his question.

“Masturbate?” The word held a slight choked sound, as if there’d been an obstacle in his throat trying to get it out.

You nodded.

“How was it?”

“It…was.”

And that was the truth. You’d made an attempt, but experienced a few difficulties. While you went into it with the intention of showing love to yourself without shame, getting rid of that shame was easier said than done.

For one, you couldn’t imagine yourself agreeing to have sex without feeling guilty, which forced you to jump through several mental hoops involving being restrained and forced in order to feel like you had any sort of plausible deniability you could use should God choose that moment to judge you.

However, in doing that, you felt extremely guilty for engaging in that fantasy, because any real victim of sexual assault would not be thinking about it that way, and should you really be romanticizing that kind of thing? You ended up heavily judging yourself before God even had a chance to judge you.

“I ran into some…difficulties.”

“Mentally or physically?” he asked, left thigh pressed up against your right.

“I think mental.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You sighed. “Yeah, kind of. But don’t judge me, okay?”

“If you pictured Isaac, I’m going to have to judge you.”

You shook your head. “I didn’t picture Isaac.”

“Good. Who did you picture?”

“Nobody,” you lied. “Just some nameless, faceless person.”

Up until that point, the conversation had flowed quickly like a game of table tennis, but the lie threw off the rhythm. Noah wasn’t satisfied. He allowed you to get away with it and didn’t press you on it, but now it was his turn for something.

He leaned forward, hands resuming their place on your knees, and looked at you as if he dared you to protest.

You didn’t.

“What difficulties did you have?”

You hesitated. He dug his thumbnail into your thigh.

“I had to imagine myself being forced.”

“Forced?” His hands stilled.

“Like tied up.”

His eyebrow quirked upward. His gaze dropped to where your hands rested in your lap. Sliding his hands up your legs, he encircled your wrists in his long fingers and turned them so they faced upwards, palms open to the sky as if in praise. He kept a tight hold while his eyes flicked briefly back up to meet yours.

Noah was playing a game of chicken. Seeing how far he could push you until you cracked.

“It’s a common fantasy,” he said, voice low and breathy. “Makes sense.”

“You don’t think it’s messed up?”

Noah rubbed his thumbs along the inside of your wrists, stopping every once in a while to apply pressure to different points. He stared at them while he spoke.

“I try not to judge myself for my fantasies. As long as there’s consent, there’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“You don’t think that it’s disrespectful to people who have been forced in real life?”

He sucked on the inside of his cheek and released it with a clicking sound before taking a deep breath. “Many survivors actually find healing through engaging in that kink.” 

“It’s hard to imagine myself consenting without the guilt creeping in.”

Noah nodded. “Understandable. You’ll give it when you’re ready.”

You closed your eyes and indulged in the pressure he put on your wrists. Your skin ignited under his touch, the same way it had when his fingers had brushed the back of your neck all those weeks ago. He trailed his fingers along your palms and your hands closed reflexively around them.

“Is that something you think you’d be into in real life?” he asked. You could hear the shuffling of movement, but didn’t open your eyes. Your fingers continued to dance together with his.

“Hard to say,” you said. “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“What’s this?” he asked, finding the silver ring on your left ring finger.

“Promise ring,” you answered.

“Like an engagement ring?” he asked.

“A symbol of a promise to God to stay pure until marriage.” His hands stilled. “We all got one in school.”

Noah pinched the ring between his two fingers.

“Is that something you’re still committed to?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”

You opened your eyes to look at Noah, who had vacated his chair and was now kneeling on the floor in front of you.

Holding eye contact, he began to slide the ring up your finger.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Just let me try something.” He removed the ring, sticking it in his back pocket for safe keeping. “How does that feel?”

“Light.”

The ring was soldi metal. It weighed heavy on your hand and the absence of it wasn’t unwelcome. This was the first time you’d taken it off since first receiving it. It was both taboo and invigorating.

“When did you make that promise?”

“When I was thirteen.”

“Before you even knew what sexuality was?”

You nodded.

“How cruel,” he said, dropping his hands back to your knees and prying them open so he could wedge his body between them. “Binding yourself to a promise you made before you even knew what you were promising.”

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” you said, trying not to blush. Noah’s body between your legs was a brand new sensation that left you feeling like your entire lower half was engulfed flames.

His greedy hands migrated to the backs of your knees and he tugged you forward on the couch so your faces were mere inches apart. His breath ghosted across your neck.

Your composure began to crack, breath speeding up, and you hoped he couldn’t tell. Saliva pooled on your tongue. You found yourself unable to look anywhere but his bottom lip, wondering how it would taste. How it would feel between your teeth.

Noah had grown bolder with every move you let him get away with. Any moment, he’d move in for the kill.

“You don’t owe your body to anyone,” he said. “Not even to God.”

“God gave me this body,” you countered.

“Yeah. He did. It’s yours to take care of. Bodies have needs.”

“And you think you’re the one to meet those needs, Noah?”

His fingers clutched hungrily at your thighs. “I could be.”

His tongue poked out to wet his lips. He’d been building towards this conclusion the whole evening, and now it was time for him to make his move. Noah was going to kiss you.

Two things happened simultaneously. Noah tugged you closer, and in his movement, the shiny black horns on the top of his head caught the light and drew your eye to them.

Your gut clenched.

Not yet. 

“I should—,” you began a second too late. Noah’s mouth collided with your jaw, and as soon as it registered in his mind, he jumped back as if he’d been burned. “I should, um,” you cleared your throat, “go check on Ava. She’s never drank before. Wouldn’t want her doing anything she’d regret.”

He sat back on his heels, hand coming up to wipe at something on the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he said. “Of course.” His dejection was evident in his voice and the way he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“See you Saturday?” you asked, standing up.

“Sure,” he said, blinking up at the ceiling. The defeated slump of his shoulders was what fully broke you. With one last look of apology, you unlocked the door and slipped out. Halfway across the yard, you heard a banging sound from the shed, as if something had been kicked.

You rushed inside to find Ava.

_________________ Taglist: @sundamariis

Click here to be added to the taglist! Also please leave a comment if you've enjoyed this and want me to continue this story. I'd love to hear your feedback.

[dimepdf]

★  𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓, 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘. + 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. your strong gymrat boyfriend likes it when the roles get reversed in private .

─── ☆ notes. god bless @lemmetreatya who never fails to write something that has me kicking my feet in the air yet somehow inspired to write my favorite anime mfs with out of pocket job headcanons, please for the love of all thats holy read the iconic juggler!hawks fic. | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | gymrat!eren | headcanon | marking | biting | hickies | muscles | pain kink | strength kink | body worship | oral sex (m) | heavy petting | tough submissive men | slight sub/dom | whimpering | whining | overstimulation | clothed sex | handjobs | title inspo by this song .

In the sense of popularity, gymrat!eren your boyfriend, getting compliments was pretty common; everyone knew that Eren was pretty athletic.

Running his own company gym as well as having his own brand centered all around fitness. He had just been so dedicated to his craft that he even had the godly height, lean build, and abs to prove that he had a sleeper build under all his baggy sweatshirts.

Yet you were the complete opposite of gymrat!eren—much to all of his follower’s surprise, you were nothing like what they thought you looked like when he first posted about you to his TikTok page with over two million followers that all drooled over his looks.

In fact, you were much shorter than him, with more pudge and curves that adored your figure. Just the thought of working out had you stressed out, paired with the fact that you wouldn't be caught dead sweating in public, let alone lifting the amount of weight gymrat!eren did without ease.

But you were a lot stronger than him in other ways.

Falling head over heels for your bold personality and forward way of speaking, gymrat!eren found himself intoxicated by your natural confidence, and just the overall way you carried yourself made it just so hard not to be smitten with you.

In fact gymrat!eren was pretty shameless with how he showed his complete and utter affection towards you.

He loves that you don't have to hold back as much because you both know that you have him wrapped around your finger. He lays back against the mattress at your command, watching you between his muscular thighs, trying to hold back his hips from jerking against your touch. 

Holding him pinned flat against the mattress by his legs, the same legs that were littered with small, darkening bruises against gymrat!eren’s olive flesh.

You heard the wince in his breath. You knew that for anyone else the painful bruises would have been a bit convincing, but the sight of gymrat!eren’s cock jumping through his gym shorts only enticed you to want to suck more hickeys against his skin.

Pathetic isn't even the word to explain his disheveled gymrat!eren felt spread out under you, his hair falling in front of his face as he pushed his head back against the pillows.

Squeezing his eyes shut so hard he was seeing stars, his throat was sore from whining out, his cheeks were flushed a cute tint of pink, and his fist clenching into his shirt pulled up enough to see the flesh of his abs muscles every time your teeth would graze against him.

gymrat!eren, who is close to tears as his legs are spread open, with one hand held near his mouth biting his knuckle as the other grips his shirt until his knuckles are white, Your head bobs up and down his dick, as his chest rises and falls under your palm.

The hand you have pressing against this torso kept him from arching away from your mouth. Knowing your boyfriend well enough to learn that he loved to squirm around when it came to overstimulation.

gymrat!eren, who lets out a whimper as his legs shake before he begs you to let him cough, pleading that he can't hold it any longer, yet does just that when you refuse.

Edging him even longer, wrapping your hand around the length that you couldn't fit into your mouth, not even bothering to let him catch his breath instead pumping your hand faster in pace.

You hold him hostage like that for a while, pulling your hand back when he gets too close, teasing his hilt with hot kisses up and down his hilt. All while gymrat!eren sobs and fidgets under you, until you finally grant him permission to let it all go.

With a drawn out whine, you watch his thighs flinch, covering his face as he trembles from the ecstasy, his chest rising and falling from his stuttering breathing.

gymrat!eren's climax leaves him feeling completely uncontrolled of his own body, as if his limbs had given out like he had done a full body workout, he pants as thick strings of cum cover your hand and get all over his gym shorts and lower torso. 

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[flowercrowngods]

hello i’m attempting something for steddie week too, but it'll be one large thing probably @steddie-week

day 01: pining

2 new messages

eddie The Problem munson: —steeb —esteban —stefano  —stevie —love of my life apple of my eye pls pls tell me i can call you  —i am very chill etc etc —no i’m not  —let me call youuuu  —😠🥺🙏

Steve snorts as he picks up his phone and reads Eddie’s messages that keep coming in his usual spam of consciousness, a giddy feeling spreading in his chest as he snorts and goes to answer. 

— Call me then, coward 

Not a second later, his phone rings. Steve picks up immediately, even though he considers making Eddie wait; just to be difficult. Just to calm his racing heart that is always so lively around Eddie. 

“What,” he says, attempting to sound bored and annoyed — in vain, because even he can hear the smile on his face. Traitor, he thinks to himself. 

“Steve,” Eddie sing-songs, drawing out Steve’s name like he does every time he’s happy. “Steve, Steve, Stevie.” 

“Ed, Ed, Eddie,” he sings back, relaxing into his couch and shutting the laptop. Lesson planning can wait, he decides, shuffling all the loose pages into the text book and placing his laptop on the pile, trusting that physics won’t betray him. “What’s got you so happy, hm?” 

“Why do you think I’m happy?” Damn idiot has a smile on his face as he asks that, Steve can hear it. It makes his own grin widen and he huffs into the phone. 

“I literally know you, babe.” 

Babe. His heart flutters every time he says it — and he tries not to, because it’s meaningless, it’ll never happen. But Eddie picks it back up every time, and Steve is weak. God, he is so, so weak. 

On the other end, Eddie hums and Steve basks in the sound for a moment. It’s always so contagious, Eddie’s happiness, and he wants to soak it all up. Wants to be the reason for it. Wants, wants, wants. 

“You do,” Eddie says, his voice so light and fond it makes Steve’s whole body tingle. And his heart flutter. And it fills him with such happiness that he feels like he could take on the entire world right now, just with the way Eddie’s voice went all soft on him. 

God, he’s hopeless. So, so hopeless. But he’s also weak. An addict, leeching off Eddie’s attention, getting a kick out of the smallest dose, and absolutely certain he couldn’t survive if it were taken from him. He needs it. Even if it kills him a little bit, because— 

“She said yes.” 

Steve blinks. “Huh?” 

“Chrissy. She said— She said yes, Stevie. We’re getting married.” 

He says it and he sounds so happy. So, so happy. And Steve is the world’s worst best friend for the way he freezes, the way he almost drops his phone if it weren’t for the vice grip he has on it, frozen in time and space because his heart has stopped beating. It has stopped, surely, because no beating heart can hurt this much. No beating heart can crack open and still work the way it used to three, five, seven seconds ago. 

Eddie, bless his entire soul, laughs to fill the silence, and it’s the happiest sound. A boyish one, like there is no pain in the world and not a worry on his mind. A bit hysterical, too. Like he can’t believe it himself yet. Like this is the best day of his life and saying it again has reminded him of it. At least that’s what Steve imagines it feels like when someone wants to be married to you. He wouldn’t know, of course, as the only person he would ever ask is already engaged to someone else. Apparently. 

Eddie is engaged. 

Engaged and laughing and so, so happy. 

And Steve feels nauseous. Dizzy. Breathless. His eyes begin to sting and the hand that’s holding his phone begins to tremble, his grip so tight it hurts. 

Steve feels… too much. His hands tremble and he tries hard not to cry. 

“You’re getting married.” 

“We’re getting married.” 

They’re getting married. 

Fuck. 

Someone has to tell Robin. Because in true Platonic Soulmate manner, Steve and Robin fell in love with the two people who are in love with each other. Like the chaotic mess they are. 

“Sorry I didn’t tell you about it sooner,” Eddie continues, a bit more sober now. Sounding genuine and sufficiently awkward about it, in true Eddie-manner. Like the big old softie he secretly is. “I would have, but…” 

But I know you’re in love with me and didn’t want to burden you with the love I carry for someone who isn’t you, Steve’s brain auto-fills helpfully. But you keep flirting with me and there was never room for someone else when I was with you. 

But, but, but— 

He swallows and drags in a deep breath past the pain in his throat where all the words he can never say are forming a massive lump. 

“Hey man, don’t worry about that, we all know I suck at keeping secrets,” he offers. And it’s a lie, because he has kept this one thing secret for years and years. This one thing, this huge and all-encompassing thing that he can feel in the tips of his fingers when he is texting Eddie, and on his tongue when they are talking, and in his heart even when he is sleeping. 

This one thing, this one secret, is his never-ending love for Eddie. 

And he will add another one to that, a lovely little friend for it. To keep it company. That other secret, of course, will be the way his heart has shattered into a million little pieces and will remain that way until he can’t even look at Eddie anymore. And even then will he look at Eddie and smile at him, and Eddie will smile back and the pain will flare up again.

Again and again and again, for the rest of their lives. Possibly even beyond that. 

“You do suck at that,” Eddie chuckles, though it is quieter this time, almost private. Fond. Gentle. Always, always like that. It used to mean something once. And if Steve closes his eyes, he can imagine that Eddie smiles his secret smile, the one Steve has only seen directed at himself. It almost breaks him. 

Eddie’s I have known you for a whole eternity and love you beyond words, silly, but you also make my life so much harder-smile. That’s what he has dubbed it because that is what Eddie had said the first time he smiled like that when Steve was drunk off his ass. 

But. But, but, but— 

It’s no use to think of that now, to reminisce and imagine what might have been if… Well. If Steve weren’t Steve. 

And that sure is a dark path he doesn’t want to trudge now, not in the face of the even darker path of Eddie getting married that he sure as hell will have to walk down for the rest of his life. 

He sighs and tries to think of something to say. Something good. Something that is not Please don’t marry Chrissy. Please don’t take yourself away from me. Please. Please don’t get married to anyone who isn’t me. Please open your eyes and see me, please listen to me, please understand what I say when I say I love you. Please.  

He kind of spaces out for the rest of the conversation, not really listening to Eddie’s words over the ringing in his ears and the pumping beat of his shattered heart. 

Eddie speaks softly to him, the undercurrent of happiness and contentment still in his voice, and it would give Steve life, it would be contagious, it would be so very precious if it didn’t also drive the knife of pain ever deeper into Steve’s entire soul, slicing him apart with no one around to put him back together again.  

Splitting him in half. One half that just wants Eddie to be happy, to sound like he does right now for ever and ever. And the other half, loathing that Eddie’s happiness is not inspired by him, not because of him, not in any sort of relation to him. 

It’s not fair. And Steve is torn. So he shuts himself off and lets Eddie ramble, tells him that he is tired after pulling an all-nighter again and wrangling the his difficult seventh graders that were particularly hard on him today when the other man asks him if he is all right. 

“Steve,” Eddie sighs, and a traitorous tear rolls down Steve’s cheek at the caring exasperation he hears there. “How often do I need to tell you that sleep is important? You’re gonna wear yourself out at this rate. And the kids just suck.”  

“I know,” he says, and sniffs, willing the tears to not fall. Not until Eddie has hung up on him. 

“Aww. That emotional, huh?” 

At that, Steve sobs out a laugh and gladly accepts the way out. “Well, excuse me, my bestest friend whom I love very much is getting married soon! Or, well, I hope it’s soon, nobody has time for all that suspense. Anyway, I am allowed to be emotional about this!” 

Eddie chuckles again and sighs gently. “Yes, you are. I’m glad you are. Thank you, Stevie.” 

Don’t thank me. Not for this. Not over this, please, don’t thank me. 

“Don’t thank me,” he says with a grin, and it hurts his cheeks from how forced it is. “Thank yourself for being brave enough to actually go through with the proposal! We both know you’re chicken shit.” 

Just like me, he thinks. Just like me. 

They laugh and it sounds hollow to Steve’s ears. He just wants the phone call to end, wants this to be over with. Wants them to not get married. Never, ever, in this life or the next. 

He wants… he wants Robin. No, he needs his best friend, his soulmate. He can’t cry alone, not about this. 

Eventually, Eddie hangs up, that smile still so audibly his lips, and that painful happiness still very clear in his voice. Steve wants to share it. But he can’t.

All he can do is stare at the phone in his trembling hand before he closes his eyes and lets himself cry, his head falling back against the couch until he slumps over to one side. He stares and he cries until he can’t anymore. 

Eddie. The love of his life. Is getting married. To Chrissy, the other, platonic love of his life, who is like a sister to him. Who, coincidentally, is the love of his real platonic soulmate’s life.

Fucking hell, the mess they find themselves in!

After a while of pitifully staring at the wall, all cried out and feeling thoroughly pathetic, he lifts his phone and speed-dials Robin. 

“Stevie?” 

He sniffs, and it must sound as awful as he feels, for her next words are, “I’ll be right there. Alcohol or ice cream?” 

“Both?” he whimpers after a moment, and Robin hums right back. 

“I’ve got you. I’ll be there in ten.” 

She hangs up before he can say anything more, and he is overcome with all the love he holds for her. 

As he waits for her to come over, he does not move from the awkwardly half curled-up position on his couch, the lesson plans for tomorrow forgotten completely. This is his life now. His Eddie-less life. His engaged-Eddie life. His loveless, hopeless, endlessly pitiful life. 

come back tomorrow for: bittersweet & angst | read here

[mentally-gone002]

is it too early to love you? - part 5

(moodboard made by moi)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, page 6, part 7

summary: reader and spencer build ikea on the floor. they both know there’s something there, but don’t know or won’t say what it is. 

a/n: okay… can i just be honest and say idfk what i was doing but i like it??? i feel like my tone while writing this one changed a bit, but idc (i do but idk how to fix it😭) so pls enjoy I ALSO LOVE UR COMMENTS THEY KEEP ME SANE AND MAKE ME SUPER HAPPY 

————————————————————————

i went without complete dish sets and whatever else i’d written down that i needed to replace for two weeks. because unfortunately the FBI isn’t like the normal nine-to-five. i had to work through a wall of paperwork, and three cases spread across the country before i was able to step foot in ikea.

i felt bad while looking at and then eventually bringing home various things because i didn’t tell spencer i was going. but i felt like i had to go alone, because it was my apartment and all. and i didn’t want him to feel like he had to look after me.

so now i found myself sitting on the floor in my ‘lazy clothes’ which was just sweatpants and a tank-top, drinking my second glass of wine and blasting some upbeat music with a half assembled tv stand in front of me. i was flipping through the instruction book and sorting out all of the pieces i needed so that it wouldn’t fall apart either on me or in the middle of the night. my healing foot that was completely painless after the glass incident moved along with the rhythm of a song.

my trip to ikea was quite successful. i found some pretty blue dishes and really nice drinking glasses that i’d already washed and put away. they looked better than all the other dishes i’d had before, so maybe james going on a rampage was a really, really awful blessing in disguise.

i still felt bad that i didn’t bring spencer along.

halfway through taking in a mouthful of wine i was brought out of my thoughts by a series of knocks on my front door. i swallowed the wine and walked to the door. 

“hey! what’re you doing here?” i swiped a drip of wine from the corner of my smile-curled lips while looking up at spencer. 

he studied me before answering, “you weren’t answering your phone.” 

i opened my mouth as if to say ‘oh’ while glancing back to my phone as it sat on the counter. “sorry, i had the ringer off. do you wanna come in?” i asked, directing my eyes back to him. 

he nodded and i opened the door wider. his face changed as he saw the disarray of my apartment. “you went to ikea without me?” he asked.

i closed my door with a smile. “yeah, this morning. sorry i didn’t call you, i just wanted to go on my own.” i walked past where he was standing beside my dining table to turn down my music slightly prior to sitting back on the floor. “do you want some wine?” i pointed at my almost empty glass. 

he shook his head. his eyes slowly looked over all of the things on the floor, and how i had my couch pushed against a wall to make the space seem bigger, and then me. “have you been doing this all day?” 

i shook my head, finishing my wine before answering. “no. well… i got up at eight and then came home at noon, struggled to get everything inside for an hour and then went to get food with penelope which meant i got home around six, so no.” the extent of my day tumbled out of my mouth. the recitation was more for me, just backtracking over everything i did just to get the answer right for spencer. “why?” i pushed some hair from my face.

spencer looked at me with an amused smile and came to sit beside me. “you look happy.” 

my hand reached for a piece of what was the next step in the instructions on the floor beside me. i worked on the furniture while i replied to spencer. “i always get really excited when i get new furniture.” i quickly followed the rest of the instructions on the page before turning all of my attention to spencer. “what did you get up to today?” 

he shrugged. “nothing half as interesting as what you did.” his eyes looked over my face a few times. i gave him a look and silently told him to just tell me. he cleared his throat. “i went to the park and played chess, walked around to a few bookstores, drank six cups of coffee and then came here because you wouldn’t answer my calls.” his body leaned closer to mine as he talked about my unanswered calls. 

i giggled. “i already said i’m sorry for that.” my heartbeat sped up at his proximity. it was just the wine… i think. “also, six cups of coffee? on a weekend?”

spencer nodded. “i like coffee.” 

“oh, trust me, i know.” i smiled. “are you sure you don’t want some wine?” i asked, slowly getting up to refill my glass. “it’s that kind rossi broke out for us… a while ago.” i wiggled my eyebrows a little, holding the almost half full bottle up for him to see. 

he didn’t answer immediately, meaning he was contemplating, before he inevitably nodded. 

i smiled and went to grab another glass and fill it up. he joined me in the kitchen, gently taking the glass from me while i poured more for myself. “i’m glad you’re here.” i took a sip. 

“are you?” he asked. 

i nodded, bumping into his side as a way to tease but i stayed leaning into him. “yeah. your company isn’t too bad.” a smile spread over my lips that i hid with my wine glass. 

spencer huffed a short laugh. “do you want help finishing that?” he was referring to the tv stand on the floor. 

i stared at it, tilting my head this way and that before i answered, “yeah.” 

spencer nodded and we went back to sit on the floor together. with his help we got it done in less time than it took for me to construct the first half. granted, i was doing more dancing and procrastination when it was just me. 

after it was done i laid down on the floor, knees up while i stared at the ceiling. my eyes moved to look back at spencer as he smiled down at me. “what?” 

“nothing.” he didn’t look away like he usually would. he kept on staring like he did that night i was in his hotel room. 

i smiled giddily. “in case you need a picture.” i slid his phone to him in the space between us. 

he shook his head. “i have an eidetic memory.”  

i propped myself up on my elbows. “i thought that only worked with words.” 

“it’s works with images too.” spencer told me, reaching out a hand to move a piece of hair out of my face. 

i didn’t breathe while he was doing that. i felt his finger tips on my face and it made me feel warm. “how long do you remember stuff for?” 

“the specifics kind of fade after a few minutes but i still remember whatever i saw.” his voice grew softer as he spoke. 

it got quiet between us again. 

i don’t mind the silence. it leaves me with a better ability to focus on his features. like his deep eyes. his brown hair that framed his face perfectly. the blue sweater that just be new.

i looked away in a rush, trying to push the observations out of my head. 

i can’t be doing this to myself. why am i not allowing myself to feel for him?

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing i just… i have a lot on my mind.” 

“like what?” he was trying to help, so why did i want to push him away right now? i’ve never thought like this before. 

i inhaled deeply. “why did you kiss me?” my eyes found his and he looked like a deer in the headlights. 

he looked away for a second before looking back. “i’m sorry i did that.” 

“i’m not asking for an apology,” i said. “i’m asking why you kissed me.” i wasn’t trying to sound rude or anything other than curious, and yet he seemed like he wanted to cry. 

spencer cleared his throat. “i did it because i’ve wanted to for three years… and i knew that if i didn’t do it that night, i wouldn’t have another chance to.” 

i want to say that explains the last three years, but i can’t. he was too good at hiding his feelings for me to have even had a hunch about it until four weeks ago. 

i didn’t even recognize my own feelings for spencer until four weeks ago… and i’m still not entirely sure what those feelings i have are. 

i only nodded and looked away. i sat up all the way and moved to sit criss-cross right against him, leaning into him, head on his shoulder. 

i wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words, and spencer was okay with that. he returned the touch with an arm around my back. his hand gently grasped my waist. his head rested on the top of mine. 

i closed my eyes. he was really warm. and he was right there. “is it too early to love you?” i breathed. i could barely hear myself. the chances of spencer hearing was slim, but his hand on my waist gave a gentle squeeze. 

[adeleidetheexplorer]

ᰋ  ׅ࣪   ꒰  tarot x zodiac signs ♡︎ a tarot reader predicting what each zodiac should expect before september ends  ꒱  

your sun, moon and ascendant or any significant signs on your birthchart can be use for this reading. ૮ . . ྀིა⁩

• masterlist. • tarot commission.

aries - knight of cups.

you're gonna feel confident about yourself before this month ends perhaps you may attract a lot of secret admirers or suitors. there may be someone who is gonna confess their love for you heartily, if not, you can expect an invitation from someone who is special to your heart and start dating. this can be one of your lucky months as well in case of your career, opportunities and offers will be left and right. just make sure to be open in any blessings you may receive. you can find yourself productive, inspired and creative too, you may start writing such as books and songs or play your favorite instrument again.

taurus - nine of swords.

you can't avoid stress before this month ends. the headache and neck pain are the causes of stress you are experiencing right now or may experience in the next few days. it's either you may hurt someone else's feelings or someone might hurt you emotionally. on the lighter side, you may find yourself traveling in a peaceful peace especially beaches and nature environment this can give your mind to avoid excessive thinking about your love life and work. also, there's a significant dream that may haunt you for days. the dream seems so real, clear and detailed. there is maybe someone, who might try to spread some gossip about your so be wary about sharing your ideas and opinions to others, remember that not everyone can be trusted.

gemini - nine of pentacles.

you may find yourself being independent before this month ends. what i meant is "independent" is financial and personal growth development independency especially budgeting and saving money up for the future. you may also meet new people that can help you to enhance your knowledge. you may also treat yourself a lot like you may buy a lot of your comfort foods to satisfy yourself. at work and school, your boss sees who improve a lot and do good job for their professionalism while if you are student, your teachers sees your improvement.

cancer - seven of swords.

you're gonna receive criticism and bullying for the work you are doing from other people. don't let these people take you down emotionally, take an action and call out these people. you may experience some unfairness and betrayal from people who are close to you. be careful about spending or investing your money as you may get scammed. you may also feel unworthy and insecure before this month ends which lead to low self esteem. argument with someone is coming too. there's also someone here who is stalking your account and keeping you on their tabs.

leo - the hermit.

if you are trying to enhance your spirituality there are changes and improvements about your spiritual self. you were also taking a break and cutting people off that drain your energy so much. you may also find yourself isolating yourself away from the others, you gonna what makes you happy. you may also be planning to take a break on social media before this month ends. if you are student, you gonna find yourself studying and reviewing really hard for the upcoming examination or test.

virgo - king of swords.

a father figure is gonna be significant to you before this month ends. you're gonna end up getting some good advice from this person or if not, someone else/a friend may need your logical advice. you may meet new people and these people may perceived you as someone mature, brilliant and intimidating.

libra - five of pentacles.

you might face some difficulty with your finances, it seems like you will get short in budgeting. while, when you are surrounded by your loved ones or the people who are close to you, you may feel unloved and unappreciated by them. as well as you may think that no one wants to be your lover or partner, yes you may meet new people but you may find it hard to find a best partner to meet your expectations when it comes to love so you think no one loves you. heavy rains may come so make sure to bring your own umbrella and jacket.

scorpio - strength.

you will be shocked by the influence you leave to people and in simple terms someone may try to tell the truth to you. this truth may be the one you are looking for answers for a very long time or you are waiting for this person to tell you the truth. you wouldn't believe too how much people think high of you. also, there maybe someone here is about to whammy your single life.

sagittarius - temperance.

great news for those single people, someone here is ready to fill your cup up. if you are worried about your health, spirit confirms that you are totally fine perhaps you may be trying to be healed for a very long time on a spiritual level because everything may be f*cked up on your spirituality. you may frequently sees the angel number 555 before this month ends.

aquarius - two of wands.

you might start doing a skincare routine before this month ends so keep on doing or continuing that. people may start to notice your glow up or changes in your appearance, you may also try mew hairstyle or in general dying your hair. people will notice the significant changes in your appearance, i also think that you will experimenting new ideas about your physical. a travel for job is significant too.

pisces - knight of wands.

before this month ends, you may be trying or planning to move to a new home or places. this changes the location and is gonna bring good freedom to you. you will feel very happy about its surroundings. a short trip will bring bliss and peace into your heart. there are more exciting events happening to you before this month ends. yellow, brown or orange is your significant color for this month theme.

© thecelestialperiwinkle

[southernmermaidsgrotto]

Hoodoo, Rootwork and Conjure sources by Black Authors

Because you should only ever be learning your ancestral ways from kinfolk. Here's a compilation of some books, videos and podcast episodes I recommend reading and listening to, on customs, traditions, folk tales, songs, spirits and history. As always, use your own critical thinking and spiritual discernment when approaching these sources as with any others.

Hoodoo in America by Zora Neale Hurston (1931)

Mules and Men by Zora Neale Hurston (1936)

Tell my horse by Zora Neale Hurston (1938)

Let Nobody Turn Us Around: An African American Anthology by Manning Marable and Leith Mullings, editors (2003)

Black Magic: Religion and the African American Conjuring Tradition by Yvonne P. Chireau (2006)

African American Folk Healing by Stephanie Mitchem (2007)

Hoodoo Medicine: Gullah Herbal Remedies by Faith Mitchell (2011)

Mojo Workin': The Old African American Hoodoo System by Katrina Hazzard-Donald (2012)

Rootwork: Using the Folk Magick of Black America for Love, Money and Success by Tayannah Lee McQuillar (2012)

Talking to the Dead: Religion, Music, and Lived Memory among Gullah/Geechee Women by LeRhonda S. Manigault-Bryant (2014)

Working the Roots: Over 400 Years Of Traditional African American Healing by Michele Elizabeth Lee (2017)

Barracoon: The Story of the Last "Black Cargo" by Zora Neale Hurston (2018)

Jambalaya: The Natural Woman's Book of Personal Charms and Practical Rituals by Luisa Teish (2021)

African American Herbalism: A Practical Guide to Healing Plants and Folk Traditions by Lucretia VanDyke (2022)

These are just some suggestions but there's many many more!! This is by no means a complete list.

I recommend to avoid authors who downplay the importance of black history or straight out deny how blackness is central to hoodoo. The magic, power and ashé is in the culture and bloodline. You can't separate it from the people. I also recommend avoiding or at the very least taking with a huge grain of salt authors with ties to known appropriators and marketeers, and anyone who propagates revisionist history or rather denies historical facts and spreads harmful conspiracy theories. Sadly, that includes some black authors, particularly those who learnt from, and even praise, white appropriators undermining hoodoo and other african and african diasporic traditions. Be careful who you get your information from. Keeping things traditional means honoring real history and truth.

Let me also give you a last but very important reminder: the best teachings you'll ever get are going to come from the mouths of your own blood. Not a book or anything on the internet. They may choose to put certain people and things in your path to help you or point you in the right direction, but each lineage is different and you have to honor your own. Talk to your family members, to the Elders in your community, learn your genealogy, divine before moving forwards, talk to your dead, acknowledge your people and they'll acknowledge you and guide you to where you need to be.

May this be of service and may your ancestors and spirits bless you and yours 🕯️💀

[bbhyeoliskooks]

𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫 | kth

comforting your best friend through a heartbreak ironically causes your own heartbreak

✢ genre: some soft angst that's way too relatable to me rn

✢ warnings: bad words

✢ song rec: hitori no yoru

it was way too late into the evening to be crashing at taehyun's house, but you were especially worried and wanted to check in on him. today he seemed off and since taehyun is the type of person to conceal his emotions, he wouldn't tell you anything. being his best friend, you knew him through and through, heart and soul included. that title, though you were extremely grateful to have since taehyun brought eternal joy in your life, was both a blessing and a curse.

no one knew and it was hard to admit even to yourself, but you had grown fond of the boy. you knew him for a long time so you thought you would never have any sort of romantic attraction, but everyday proved you so wrong. you would get butterflies whenever he came near you or locked eyes with you. you would heat up unknowingly, the warmth spreading to your cheeks that it became quite obvious. your heart would betray you as well, pounding like a fast, steady metronome whenever he gave you attention. it was laughable to say the least, so you hoped that he would never know.

your feelings to which he didn't reciprocate back, would ruin your friendship forever. things would never be the same if he found out or if you confessed. and you weren't willing to give taehyun up after so long of knowing him, therefore you'd rather have some of him as a best friend than none at all.

this time you had wrapped your arms around his firm chest, letting his comforting cologne swallow your senses whole. for just a second you pretended that you were more than friends, and sometimes that was enough, knowing that you would never have anything more than that in the back of your mind.

taehyun chuckled at you nuzzling your head deeper into his chest, lifting up his hand to gently rub your head. when you looked up at him, he laughed even more, the deep timbre of his voice extremely soothing. he was lucky to have you and though he won't say it much, he feels better with you near. with such love and support, he almost forgot his predicament, if not for the ache burning holes in his chest.

on the other hand, your heart flipped in your chest and you snuck a glance at him. he was sending a goofy smile towards you before tensing up. his face dropped, and he looked away at the wall just as quick as that sweet interaction.

"fuck, doing this reminds me of her. we would always do this together."

now the butterflies in your stomach just died, being replaced by a bunch of bile that crept in the back of your throat. this must be why he was feeling upset today. behind that cold and calculating front, you knew that something was wrong and now you could pinpoint what it was- he missed her.

"you know, she texted me late at night yesterday; 4am, i think, and asked for another chance."

you shimmied yourself out of his arms awkwardly, opting to sit next to him instead so as to not bring back bittersweet memories for him. his words broke your heart instantly since you thought for just a moment, just one, that his smile would be because he realized he loved you. yet here you were feeling sick, after every time he would do something sweet. you illusioned yourself into thinking that he loved you back, but he unintentionally crushed your heart again for the nth time, making it squeeze and ache.

"is this why you were upset today? i don't get it, tyun. i thought you vowed to never get back with her because of how messy it was."

the breakup was super messy, especially for your best friend. he was a wreck for a month, trying to drown himself in work and school. you just didn't think that it would be the reason for keeping him up even now, a couple months later.

he sighed, peering into your eyes. you stared back at him, unfortunately admiring the eyes you loved and hated the most. you could never stop looking at his eyes, for they were the most beautiful set of honey brown eyes and you could get lost in them forever. however you hated how they never looked at you, never looked at the one person that loved him and could give him the love he had always wanted. even now you were incredibly weak as he glanced up and down at you, making you spiral as you battled to keep your composure on the outside.

"but i still love her. i know we can't be together after we broke up twice, but i just love her so much."

his words were like nails on a chalkboard, tearing you up from the inside as you physically winced. ringing through your ears, the word love ripped your body from limb to limb and you tried not to let tears pool and ripple from the edge of your eyes. his ex had a deathly grip on him, one that you knew you could never have. she was always there somehow, haunting you whenever taehyun ranted about his heartbreak and even when you were feeling insecure. he would always be about her and there was nothing you could do about it but watch and provide sympathy because you were his best friend.

needing comfort, taehyun wrapped his arms around you. a couple seconds later you heard some quiet sniffles as he buried his face into the bone of your shoulder. it seems that her grip on him was tighter than ever reflecting his lover for her stronger than ever. you felt like you could throw up this time. distractingly his body shook, trembling uncontrollably as he struggled to keep himself together.

"i love you, y/n. thanks for coming over. you being here makes me feel a thousand times better." his sweet words and actions cut you deeper, like a burning knife through the heart. you gulped, patting his back delicately, in contrast to the way he was clinging onto you tightly. knowing that he didn't want you to acknowledge how vulnerable he was, you just kissed the side of his head- an action that you two frequently did to show affection for each other. having him close to you, on the other hand, was like acid to the touch; he was always within reach but he was never close enough for you to receive romantic love.

"i love you too, tyun. and as your best friend, i promise i will always be here for you."

you let a few tears roll now, knowing that you couldn't keep it up. he wouldn't see or notice your tears, just like your unrequited love, bound to be hidden forever.

released: june 17, 2024, 2:27am (CT)

thoughts: friends to lovers is MY trope, it always hits too good. also to make you feel slightly better since this was very sad, the pics I chose reminds me of "i'm doing it, are you?"

tags:

[earlysunshines]

moonlight serenade

kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader. (pt. 3)

summary: sana finds you even cuter after seeing you in shark pj's, you two are hopeless lesbians, you drive sana home and it's more romantic than it should be – oh my god you're not a mother?

wc: 5.3k

warnings: mentions of food, i think that's it ; reader has tattoos ; u two are hopeless romantics ; lesbians being lesbians

pt 1. pt2. pt4.

a/n: I love jazz. I've been listening to jazz in a bakery/cafe while writing each part actually. pls listen to moonlight serenade by ella fitzgerald, it's a work of art and one of my all time favorites :-D

(are lyrics in fics corny? I have no idea. I just love jazz and thought this song was perfect for this part.)

trying to write as much before I move! enjoy ;-]

-

“Are you actually serious?” Jihyo says, placing her cup of coffee down. Sana pinches the bridge of her nose and lets out a small breath,

“Jihyo, I don’t know what to do,” Sana says defeatedly.

Two months have passed by and that means two months of seeing you every now and then. Johnny, your brother, has returned from his business trip, so he ended up being the one to take Hana to school in the morning and the one to pick her up in the afternoon. You, however, were not going to miss the chance to see this lovely woman named Sana. 5'4 inches of pure beauty and charm. So, you convinced him to let you take Hana to school once or twice a week just to see who you think is the woman blessed by Aphrodite. 

I mean, the temperature is dropping, and the warmth that spreads through your body when you see Sana is definitely something you need for this weather.

Every week Sana would see you in the morning once or twice. You two would exchange your friendly greetings before Hana goes off to chat with her new best friend Jiyeong, you’d stare at each other all lovingly (you two are oblivious, it’s sick), and then part ways. Rinse and repeat, reuse, reduce, recycle, etc, this went on for two damn months. 

Sana would never say anything more, she wouldn’t flirt, she wouldn’t ask you out, and she wouldn’t do anything but be friendly. She still believed that you were literally her student’s mother, and there was a guilt that got heavier every time her heart did a flip from seeing you.

Each interaction sparked a small flame in your hearts, and just before it grew bigger, you’d wave goodbye; the flame would die again, never growing large enough to really warm you two the way you both needed.

“Sana… I honestly have no clue what to say,” Jihyo starts, and she looks at the young teacher in front of her, practically losing her mind, “I mean, you’re sure she’s her mom?”

“Yes, I mean, the girl’s dad and her take turns dropping her off and whatnot. I'm not going to be more delusional than I already am trying to find anything that makes her seem less like a mother, I mean, it's clear that she is the mother of that girl.” Sana explains, and her heart sinks a little, “I guess her dad is nice, though, and tall, I don’t know.” Sana groans. 

Jihyo watches Sana stick out her signature little pout and swirl the coffee in her cup, 

“Well… There are always others, no?”

“I don’t know, it’s just something about her Jihyo,” and Jihyo listens with interest, “I just, ever since we met, I feel like, there was some kind of… god this is so embarrassing…” Sana trails off, putting a hand on her forehead and pinching her eyes shut from slight embarrassment. Sana reminisces the way you’d joke about Hana making your wrinkles appear if she kept it up with her little antics, how you’d make her laugh at your little comments, and the way your eyes scan the room for her in the mornings and -

“You’ve been a hopeless romantic since we were roommates, I’ve probably heard worse.” Jihyo sighs, and she reminisces about the days when Sana and she had to share a small single-bedroom dorm, and how she would gush about anything and romanticize everything. 

“Look, she’s just so pretty… Maybe we could just be friends? She’s sweet.” Sana suggests, and Jihyo laughs in disbelief.

“You want to be friends with someone’s mother that you also, or, might have a crush on?”

“Maybe.” 

-

You let yourself in through the front door with your spare keys, hanging your jacket on the coat hanger and sliding your shoes off, setting them on the shoe rack. 

There’s a faint melody of a slow, soft song playing, and there’s a low voice that hums along to the old tune. It fits the atmosphere of the quiet house on a Thursday night.

You creep through the hall quietly to see your brother in the dimmed kitchen washing a few plates. He’s in a navy long-sleeved shirt with its sleeves rolled up so water doesn't temporarily shade his apparel, and loose shorts that go down to just above his knees. His hair is a bit messy, and he looks nerdy with his circular black glasses on. You laugh at the sight of him in his pajamas and slides, he jumps a little and turns his head in surprise after hearing you.

“My god, at least text me.” He sighs, and you chuckle at him. You make your way over to the area where he is and sit across from him at the kitchen island, he directs his attention back to the dirty plate in his hand, “Did you need something?”

“Kinda.”

“You know where everything is, just grab it if you need it. Also, be quiet, Hana just fell asleep.” Johnny responds, turning off the sink and placing the white dish in the dishwasher. 

“It’s not a physical thing, I just… maybe some advice, or at least your thoughts.”

“...On?”

“There’s this girl,”

"Oh," He mumbles quietly, “You’re ready to date again?”

“I think so,” You begin, “She’s different you know. Not like that girl in high school. She’s actually the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and she’s sweet and nice and caring and-”

“How long have you known her?”

“Two months...”

“So it is Ms. Minatozaki.” Johnny scoffs, though, not in an insulting way, more of an ‘I fucking knew it’ way. He picks up a rag and starts to wipe it on the countertop.

You look at your taller brother in surprise, “How did you know?”

“Hana tells me all about you two y’know? Why else would you willingly wake up earlier than you should to drop off my daughter at school? And, she tells me that you ask about her teacher?” He laughs, “You’re not good at hiding things, never have been.”

“Hey!” You say defensively, and a little too loud as it makes him put a finger to his lips,

“Lower your voice.” 

“Sorry.” You mumble, laying your head on your palm. Johnny turns his body to face you instead of the counter connected to the sink that he had previously been wiping,

“Soooo, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know Johnny.”

“You think she likes you?” He asks, genuinely curious about your new interest. Johnny grabs two glasses of water and places them on the counter, then sits down to the right of you, making sure to give his full attention to you. 

Johnny has always been a good brother, and you two had your necessary brother-sister moments where you were at each other's throats; in fact, you’d bicker all the damn time and it even went on into high school. However, you two always had each other’s backs. Even when you hated each other there would be moments where you two were the only ones who understood each other, and sometimes time seemed to stop when you’d talk about the deeper topics and anything bothering you two. 

And so, time slows down as Johnny listens to your rant.

“We’re friendly, I mean, what am I thinking? I feel slightly delusional I won’t even lie,” You sigh, “She’s so pretty and sweet and I just, I really want to get to know her. Like ever since I met her I felt like… It’s so corny but I swear the world literally paused for a moment.” You add, shifting your look away from your older brother.

How are you supposed to tell your brother that this woman that you’ve known for two months is making you lose some sleep, and, by the way, you haven’t even had a full conversation with her either. You think of the woman that you go out of your way to run into and see for ten minutes a day total, twice a week. You think of her radiant smile that rivals the sun's rays, the voice that’s more soothing than any song on your playlist, and the way her eyes light up when she sees you, and -

“You’re head over heels, huh,” Johnny says, amused.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I barely know her.” you lie,

“Well, you could.”

“And how am I supposed to do that? ‘Oh hey I think of you day and night just because I think you’re cute and nice and I think I almost overfilled a cup of cold brew while daydreaming about you, uh maybe we could go out sometime?’”

“Maybe don’t say that much, dumbass.” Your older brother says playfully, “Just start with a compliment or something, you seriously suck at this romance stuff.”

“Thanks,” You mutter, rolling your eyes, “But what if she thinks that’s weird? I’m literally her student’s aunt.”

“Maybe,” Johnny sighs and finishes the water in his cup, “Maybe you should get some rest, y/n. If you lose sleep over this woman who you’ve never had a full conversation with, imagine how much sleep you’ll lose when you finally do.” He stands up and makes his way over back to the sink to rinse the glass cup you had gotten him for his last birthday, “So, maybe you should catch up on rest now and rant to me when you finally have the balls to actually make a conversation with her, then I could actually give you some decent advice."

“You suck.”

“I want to give you my feedback and advice, but this is literally all I can say right now: ask her out and come back to me.”

“This is too much.”

“You’re a loser, y/n.” Johnny jokes, and he takes the cup that you hadn’t touched away and then rinses it.

-

You don’t even get to plan anything or prepare yourself for your next interaction with Sana, and you look stupid when you run into her too.

You’re at the nearest convenience store in an oversized t-shirt that was your brothers’, the gray shirt with a shark graphic on it that was too comfy to not steal. Paired with that tee were plaid shorts and white socks with more sharks on them that you had gotten from Hana last Christmas, along with grayish-green clogs on your feet. 

You were dressed like a college student that was on a budget, and of course, you had to run into the woman of your dreams at a convenience store at 12:24 am on a Friday night while looking stupid.

Sana had run into you while you scanned the drinks section. You didn’t notice her calling out your name while there was pop music playing in your earbuds, and when you turned to see who had tapped on your shoulder your eyes widened.

Sana held a small basket in her hand, and she wore a purple sweatshirt along with gray sweatpants, much more presentable than what you were wearing. Your face goes red as you realize that she’s caught you looking ridiculous, all while she looks perfect.

Her hair is clipped up and some strands fall over her face, and she looks so unbelievably adorable just standing there smiling at you.

“Hi.” She says, looking you up and down. 

She scans your whole look and gets a little flustered by how precious you look. Your hair is messed up and disheveled at the roots, as if you’d just gotten out of bed and ran a hand through it. The oversized t-shirt drowned your figure in comfort, and your inked, toned forearms were revealed. The t-shirt you wore had a cute shark graphic on it, Sana had guessed that your daughter had something to do with why you had that shirt. She smiles at the sight of you in such comfy clothing, looking lovely as ever while you stare back at her. 

“Hey.” You respond, taking out an earbud,

“It’s surprising to see you here y/n,” Sana giggles, “Thirsty?” She questions, and she’s peeking at the vitamin water in one of your hands.

“I guess so.” You mumble, biting the inside of your cheek and putting a hand in your pocket, “It’s pretty surprising to see you here too.” You add. Surprising, but wow, definitely lucky. When would you ever see her looking so comfy and out of her workplace looking so cute? 

Sana giggles and you feel like a huge gust of wind has hit you so suddenly, about to hit you off your feet. You smile brightly. 

“I couldn’t sleep, I wanted something to snack on,” Sana shrugs. You glance at her basket and see some spicy turtle chips in the basket,

“Eating something spicy at this time is new to me, most people would have something warm, no?”

“Maybe.” Sana mutters, “I like your outfit, by the way.” 

Your ears turn red again and you look down at your clothing, “Yeah… It’s a shirt from Hana’s dad, haha, that’s why it’s so big.”

Sana’s heart sinks a bit at the mention of Hana’s dad. 

Sana and Johnny had met other times, and Sana thought he was nice, sweet, and she can't lie he does has a nice smile, but not as nice as yours. He treated Hana with care; Sana could tell he loved her dearly, as much as you did. 

“I see, I like it. The two of them must love sharks, she always draws them during class.”

“She and her dad are very similar, lots of shark things in the house. I prefer koalas.” You reply. You wonder why the hell you’re mentioning koalas at this time, at this moment in this place, but it doesn’t matter because it seems to spark some kind of conversation with the woman in front of you, and Sana thinks it’s cute, actually. 

“Koalas?” She questions amusingly, "They’re cute. I think hamsters are cuter, though.” 

“hamsters?”

“Mhm.” 

You chuckle at her response and wonder, how does she get cuter every time? Sana turns her head to eye at the drinks, then makes her way to the refrigerator door to grab one for herself, she grabs a canned iced americano and turns her body to face you again, 

“Do you live near? I feel like I would’ve run into you sooner if you did.” Sana says, looking at the can in her right hand. 

“Uh - no. The nearest convenience store closes at 12, so I just drove around until I found one open.” You answer, “Do you live near?” You ask. You wonder if the question is too weird or creepy to ask, I mean, this is a woman you don’t know too well, and would it be weird to ask a person you find so attractive where they live?

“Kind of. It’s a fifteen-minute walk, maybe less, give or take. The one right next to my place is closed too.”

“You walked? At this time?” You question her. Worry takes over your whole body because she walked alone? In the dark? At this hour? 

Sana just hums in response, “Yeah, the neighborhood is really quiet and not too bad.”

“Still, you should’ve driven or something.”

“I don’t drive.” She simply states. You furrow your brows. She just stares back at you with those big brown eyes, it almost makes you forget about worrying.

She walks past you and heads to the self-checkout, you follow. There's a sudden idea that pops up in your mind, and you usually wouldn't be so bold to suggest or ask anything so direct, but it's twelve in the morning and your mind is too scrambled to make or think of any decent decisions.

“Sana,” You murmur, voice just barely above a whisper as you find the confidence for what you’re about to say, “Uh- this might be a little weird to ask, but, um…” You stutter, why the hell are you stuttering? She’s staring at you with those large espresso-colored eyes that remind you of your job at the moment, and the longer she stares back at you the more your mind races. This woman has your heart doing flips and pounding through your chest, you can barely manage your thoughts and words,

“Yes?”

“Uh, could I take you home?” You finally say, barely managing to make eye contact with her and it’s a humbling experience as your usually leveled (at least you think) demeanor crumbles under the presence of this woman.

“You don’t have to. It’s late and I don’t want to cause you too much trouble, y/n.” 

“I’d be much more troubled if I knew you were walking home alone at this time, I insist.”

“Alright then. Let me pay first.”

You pause for a moment and Sana just turns back around, scanning the chips and canned coffee she had in her basket. It’s almost 12:30 now, and a pretty girl is letting you take her home. This wonder of the world is letting your disheveled self take her home.

-

“You have a nice car,” Sana says. She's never had a thing for cars or really knew too much about them. She's only paid attention to Jihyo’s five-seat white Lexus and the black, modified BMW that belonged to her childhood friend Momo. Other cars don't really matter or stand out to her, but Sana’s interest in you grows when she first sees the green Mercedes. Five-seated car looks nice and neat from the outside, for some reason, it really catches her attention. When she sits in the passenger seat she’s hit with the smell of coconut and vanilla. There are two things hung from the internal rearview mirror: One, a small keychain of a koala, and two, a picture of you and Johnny.

Sana can’t help but smile at the picture of you two, you two look happy.

You start the engine and put on your seatbelt before putting the drink you bought in the cup holder. You press on the screen in your car and a slow jazz melody plays. Of course, it had to be a love song. 

“I’ve never seen your tattoos up close, they’re really pretty.” Sana suddenly says as you start to move out of where you were parked. Her eyes scan from your upper forearm, where the tattoo started, and down to where it ended just below your wrist, “I only saw a bit of them when you had dropped Hana off the first day.” Sana added.

She wanted to add on about how she also noticed the tattoo just under your knuckles too, and how she found the ink on your skin so endearing. She wanted to tell you all about the things she found attractive about you. From the noticeable things like your bold features to the little things she’s noted in her mind from every meeting. The way you’d always run a hand through your beautiful hair once or twice, the eye contact you couldn’t hold with her, the way you bit the inside of your cheek when you were quiet, the way your fingers often tugged at the beaded bracelet on your hand, how cute it was to watch you say bye to your daughter, and various other little details. Sana wanted to tell you all about those things, but that would be incredibly weird, right?

“Oh, yeah, thank you. I got the tattoo on my forearm a couple of years ago. Hana picked out the butterfly on my hand last year, actually.” You say, looking at the screen of your car as you back up a bit, making sure you don’t hit anything. 

“Oh, also, you can type the address on my phone. Here.” You add, handing her the device. Sana types in her address quickly and it pops up on the screen. It’s a quick 4-minute drive, and you both wished it were a bit longer.

The music continues to play softly while you two sit in silence, and it somehow makes the mood a bit more intimate whilst the faint sound of Ella Fitzgerald's voice echoes,

I stand and I wait 

For the touch of your hand in the June night 

The roses are sighing 

A moonlight serenade

Your breath hitches, “Um, you can change the song if you want…” You say embarrassed. Sana shakes her head and mumbles, 

“It’s alright. I like it, It’s cute.” She admits, making you blush a bit. You grip the wheel a little tighter as you stop at the red light. The heartfelt lyrics fill the air with a romantic hum, and only the tender melody is heard as you sit together in silence.

The stars are aglow

 And tonight how their light sets me dreaming 

My love, do you know 

That your eyes are like stars brightly beaming?

Sana’s heartbeat skips a little knowing that you listen to such romantic melodies, and she wonders if you love as romantically as such songs. Her mind wanders to the thought of you serenading her in the moonlight, or serenading her in a more domestic setting. The sudden thought of you humming along to these tunes while you cooked or cleaned allowed made her cheeks flush a bit. Jihyo was right: Sana is a hopeless romantic. She’s too far in to get out of the hole of these feelings, and her heart aches a little, the guilt piles up.

You on the other hand are freaking out.

Sana likes your lovey-dovey taste in music, and she seems content (Sana's having a crisis). Maybe you do have a chance with this woman, I mean, she’s already in your car and letting you take her home. Maybe you can do this again, maybe you can listen to songs like this together in a more intimate setting rather than your car, and maybe you can do more than just listen to Ella Fitzgerald together. All the maybe’s in your head are cut short as you reach her place and park in front of her apartment complex. 

“We’re here.” You mutter, and you wish you weren’t.

Sana nods and reaches for the eco-friendly bag she had set down, unbuckles her seatbelt, then turns so that her eyes stare into yours with a new intensity. She puts her left hand on your right hand that had been gripping the gear shift ever so gently, your jaw tenses a bit and your left hand that had been on the wheel tightens its hold once more. She looks from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes again. Your heart is suddenly an acrobat the way it's doing so many flips.

“Thank you again, I appreciate it.” She says, and her other hand is on the handle of the door, ready to get out, but she doesn’t.

“Anytime, I didn’t want you to be out alone at this time.” you wonder how that sentence leaves your mouth so calmly because your heart is beating at least two hundred times per minute. 

Sana’s lips curve into a smile again and you relax a bit,

“Well,” Sana starts, and she opens the door, “I’ll see you soon?”

“I’m picking up Hana on Monday.”

“Great. See you then, y/n.” She finally says, turning away and getting out of the car. You two look at each other again and your eye contact lingers a bit before she finally closes the door, waves, and turns to head inside the apartment complex. 

The music continues to play, and your heart longs for her once again.

I stand at your gate

And I sing you a song in the moonlight 

A love song, my darling 

A moonlight serenade

-

A week passes after this encounter, and Sana is currently giving the kids an announcement that might have them jumping off the walls.

“Alright everyone in your seats please.” She says kindly. The students listen to her and shuffle to their seats, some chatter being shared as they do so. Sana claps her hands in a pattern to bring the students’ attention to her, and they clap their hands the same way that she had, quieting down in the process.

“Alright everyone, before I make this announcement, I need everyone to behave and not get too rowdy, okay?”

“Yes Ms. Minatozaki!” The class answers enthusiastically. Sana nods and smiles at them,

“Alright. So, there’s a special trip that is planned for you all next week.” She begins. The kids' faces start to light up after hearing the words “special trip” and almost all of them are itching to get more details on it. Sana’s face seems to light up with theirs from just looking at the excitement on their faces, so she continues,

“Next Wednesday we will be spending the day at the art museum downtown. There are going to be multiple people guiding you throughout the museum, and you’ll be able to learn about the art.” Sana explains, “And, at the end of the trip we’ll all meet back at a special room where you can paint along with an instructor.”

The kids’ smiles grow even wider, some are whispering to each other while others continue to keep their attention on the young teacher. 

“Now, I also wanted to add that we will be needing some chaperones to help look after the class. I have some papers that I’ll give to you, make sure you show them to your mom, dad, or guardian. If they’d like to tag along to help out that would be great, and highly encouraged.” Sana says, pulling out a pile of papers from her desk, she begins to pass around said forms.

-

An hour passes and it’s free choice time. Hana walks up to the young teacher with the form that Sana had previously handed out. Sana smiles at the young girl and tilts her head,

“What is it, Hana? Is everything okay?” The young teacher questions,

“Um, Ms… What does guardian mean? You said mom, dad, and guardian earlier. Does that mean grown up?” Hana asks, and she looks at the paper as if her five-year-old self can read the whole thing with ease, 

“I guess so. It’s an adult who takes care of you.” Sana explains to the girl. The girl hums to herself and furrows her brows,

“Does that mean y/n can come?”

“Of course, she’s your mom isn’t she?” Sana asks, and she’s confused as to why the girl looks up at her in surprise,

“My mom?” 

“Yes… She’s your mom, no?”

“Ms. Minatozaki, Y/n is my aunt.” 

Sana’s whole world stops for a moment. Y/n is her aunt? 

“So your dad and her are…?”

“Y/n is my papa’s younger sister, she always jokes about him being so old,” Hana says, laughing to herself.

Sana genuinely stops functioning as she processes this new information: You’re not taken. Fireworks set off in her heart and confetti seems to pop: you’re not her mom. All the guilt that had been on her shoulders from thinking she was infatuated with a taken mother is gone, and it all makes sense now. Sana wonders how stupid she could’ve been, I mean, you and Hana’s dad had similar features, face shape, hair texture, and color. The young teacher had also realized that Hana only called you by your name, and not “mommy” or “mom” or anything like that; how could she have been so stupid?

“Ms. Minatozaki?”

“Oh, yeah, yes Hana. Y/n can come, of course, she can.” Sana says, and she really hopes you do come. Hana smiles and looks back at her paper before talking to her teacher again,

“You know, my aunt, she asks about you a lot.” 

“She does?” Sana says, her heart skips a beat. Hana nods and looks back up at the teacher,

“She always asks about how school was, but she always ends up asking more about you and how you were during the day.” Sana’s eyes widen and she looks at the young girl in front of her, exposing you for being so interested in her. 

The flame in her heart grows bigger, and it seems that the flame has no intention of dying down now that she knows you’re not Hana’s mother. Hana turns around and makes her way back to her desk to color after seeing that Sana wasn’t capable of responding again, and Sana doesn't even notice. Hana sits down unbothered, not knowing that she just turned Sana’s whole mood around, not knowing that this new piece of information will have her daydreaming the rest of the day – no, the rest of the week – maybe the rest of the month.

-

The school day comes to an end and the usual routine occurs: bell rings, kids scream, talk, and practically leap out of their seats to get in line to go to the entrance of the building. Sana waits with her usual group of eight, which includes Hana, and she hopes that today would be the day that you decided to pick her up. You had already picked Hana up on Monday, but now it’s Wednesday and those are the days that Hana’s dad would usually pick the little girl up, great.

-

Forty minutes pass and Sana sits down at the main office with Hana, no one had come to pick her up yet. Hana seems to be unbothered by this as she colors and draws on the sheet of paper that Sana had given her to cure her boredom, but she worries slightly since Jihyo still waits for her in the front. 

Sana texts Jihyo a string of apologies and explanations and before she reads the instant reply, the sound of heavy breaths are heard as a familiar face enters the room, looking around all worried until her body relaxes when she sees her niece.

Y/n lets out a sigh of relief seeing Hana sitting down, coloring as if there wasn’t a single problem in the world. Her look shifts over to Sana, who is already looking at her. Their eyes meet and it makes the two women smile at one another.

“Hana,” your voice makes the little girl turn her head. She smiles and runs up to hug you, leaving her art on the desk,

“Aunt y/n!” And this is the first time Sana hears the little girl actually call you her aunt, she wishes that she would’ve called you aunt earlier (it would've saved her sleepless nights of wondering what the hell to do with her feelings, but at least she knows now). 

You hug the little girl back and swipe away the strands of hair on her face, “Hi little one. Your dad had something come up at work, I rushed over as soon as my shift ended.” You explain. You turn back to share eye contact with the young teacher, eyes narrowing and lips curving upwards as you smile at her, “Thank you for watching her, I’m sorry for being so late.”

“It’s all right, really.” It’s more than all right, Sana thinks. 

You grin again and turn your attention back to your niece, “Ready to go?”

“Yup!” 

“Okay little one, come on.” and you crouch down to let her wrap around your shoulders, letting her piggyback ride you. You grab the art that your niece had made on the table and finally stand in front of Sana, thanking her.

“I’m sorry again, thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem, it’s nice to see you again,” Sana admits, a bit shyly too. The grin that’s already present on your lips grows and you wave to the shorter woman,

“I’ll see you.” You finally say, waving with your free hand and turning your head to the little one, “Let’s get going, your dad will be back by dinner.” You mutter, and Hana hums tiredly in response before you head out the main office doors, taking a quick glance at Sana, smiling again.

…

Jihyo’s going to lose her mind when I tell her all of this, Sana thinks to herself.