#god this took such a long time to complete

[papayacinnabun]

my valentine - oscar piastri

oscar piastri x fem!reader

word count - 1.8k

summary - your boyfriend takes you on a special date, and a special ride...

warnings - 18+ mdni, smut, oral f receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, car sex

a/n - happy valentines day! oh god i wish i had a rich boyfriend who loved me 😮‍💨 masterlist

sweet.

that's how the bouquet of roses oscar brought you smelled. satisfyingly sweet.

he presented them to you when he picked you up from your apartment, standing dorkily in front of his sleek mclaren 720S. oscar was grinning like a kid in a candy store as he handed them to you, placing a tender kiss on your cheek to not mess up your fresh lipstick. 

“you look so beautiful my love.” his praise always made you blush, warm and well-timed.

“thank you baby, you look very dashing yourself.” you stepped back for a moment to admire your boyfriend in his suit, he obviously went all out for the occasion.

“i had to dress up for my valentine of course,” he said as he took your hand to help you into the car. that made you laugh. it sounded so dumb and lovesick that you both treasured valentines day so much, but oscar was someone you wanted to celebrate with all the time if you could. 

everyday with him was bliss, and it felt like a dream you never wanted to wake up from. its a rare thing to find someone who understands you completely and expresses themselves without farce, but you truly found that with oscar.

and now almost a year in, you sat across from each other in the candlelight of a swanky monaco restaurant deliberating over what to order. 

you looked up from the menu to admire oscar. his brows were knitted together in a thoughtful expression, eyes scanning over the myriad of entree options. he was clearly torn about what to order, making you giggle at his seriousness. 

“what are you getting?” oscar asked as he looked up, eager for some help. 

“having a bit of trouble there osc?” you croon teasingly, reaching out to rub his hand. he gives you a look that screams ‘hey don’t make fun of me’, and envelopes your small hand in his. “fine, i think i’ll get the salmon. it sounds very good.”

he makes a noise of confirmation and nods his head, bringing his attention back down to the menu. “i’ll get the same, i trust your judgement.”

and that’s how it worked between you. even for the smallest, most trivial things, you just trusted each other. 

two hours and some glasses of expensive wine later, you walked out of the restaurant hand in hand. 

“that was lovely baby, thank you so much” you mused, squeezing his hand a bit tighter.

“i’m glad you enjoyed it, love. i’m thinking we head back to mine and have some cake and watch a movie, how’s that sound?” his hand left yours to rest at your waist, pulling you closer to him. his hand smoothed over the thin fabric of your dress, sending goosebumps all over your skin. 

your eyes lit up at the mention of cake, oscar knew it was your favorite dessert. but the tension between you two was even more delicious, oscar’s hand starting a chain reaction of desire in your body. 

“sure you don’t want a different type of dessert first?” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively at him, causing a wide grin to break out on his face. 

“are you offering?” he asks jokingly, his hand gripping a little tighter at your waist. 

you blushed and tugged your bottom lip into your mouth, shrugging playfully as you finally approached the car. it was parked on the street because oscar knew you wouldn’t want to wait for the valet and waste the night. 

he opened the door for you, hand only leaving your waist at the last minute to help you in. your dress rode up a bit as you got in the car, the long slit in the fabric exposing the soft skin of your hip a bit. oscar’s eyes darkened, glinting with something new. desire?

he gets in the driver’s seat and starts the engine, his gaze wandering back over to your thigh. 

oscar abruptly turns the engine off. 

“oh are we not goi-” you start, a bit confused. 

“get in the back.” he interrupts, voice low. 

“osc you’re out of your mind.” you shake your head, adrenaline steadily coursing through you now. 

“i need you now baby, you’re driving me crazy.” he leaned over to look at you, his large hand coming up to rub the inside of your thigh. the feeling made your brain go numb. 

“we’re in public!” you whine out, getting a bit frustrated as his hand traveled closer and closer to the lacy edge of your panties. 

“don’t worry, the windows are tinted. i’m gonna take care of you beautiful, just need to have you right now.” he whispers, breath sending shivers down your spine. a whimper escapes your throat involuntarily. 

you finally nod, lust overshadowing your rational thinking. you unzip your dress, shrugging it off to reveal your dark red lace lingerie. oscar’s eyes got wider, unblinking as he looked you over. kicking off your louboutins, you climbed over to the backseat, his needy hands on your waist assisting you.

he looks at you like a wolf does its prey, determined and hungry. 

his suit jacket and tie are quickly torn off and abandoned in the driver’s seat as he raced to join you. 

immediately his hands were all over you, caressing and groping every inch of your skin like it was the first time he was seeing you. 

“hiding this from me? naughty girl. would’ve left the restaurant sooner if i knew. always so pretty for me.” he praised as his lips ghost over your neck, leaving the lightest kisses as he traveled down to your collarbones and over the lacy material of your bra. in one movement he undid the clasp and pulled it off, revealing your supple tits. 

oscar moaned at the sight of your perky nipples, running his thumbs back and forth over the peaks. your eyes fluttered closed in bliss, savoring the warmth of his large hands massaging your breasts. 

“kiss me, please” you practically begged him, needing to feel his mouth against yours. he didn’t hesitate to capture your lips with his, soft and gentle at first, but steadily becoming more hurried and messy. he couldn’t get enough of you. 

you kissed each other so fiercely, teeth clashing together. your hands reached up to pull at the hair at the nape of his neck, making him groan into your mouth. 

“fuck- need- to- taste- you,” he said in between open mouthed kisses to your neck as you squirmed under him. finally his fingers wander down between your legs, rubbing your aching clit over the red lace. you gasp as he pushes the fabric aside and dips into your wetness, collecting it with his fingers. he stares into your eyes as he lewdly sucks his digits clean of your juices. 

oscar gives you no time to react, leaning down to lick a stripe up your folds. your mouth falls open in bliss as he wraps his lips around your sensitive clit, sucking lightly.

he expertly maneuvers his tongue, eating your pussy like a man starved. he hooks his arms under your thighs to pull them over his shoulders, pulling you closer to him. “sweetest little pussy all for me,” he breathes out quickly, barely wasting a moment before diving back into your slicked folds. 

your back arches off the leather seats, feeling the familiar buildup of your release. his hold on your hips tightens as his tongue circles tantalizingly over your puffy clit, before closing his lips around the bud. 

“please… wanna cum,” you whimper out as his tongue delves inside you, nose bumping up against your sensitive bundle of nerves. you shamelessly rock your hips up against his face for more friction, earning a groan from oscar that reverberates through your core. 

“give it to me baby” oscar encourages, speeding up his movements. a choked sob travels up your throat, your orgasm ripping through you harshly. your pussy clenches around nothing as oscar greedily laps at your release, finishing by pressing small kisses to your thigh. 

“gonna let me fuck your pretty cunt now? make you cum all over my cock too baby?” you were already flustered from your orgasm, but his words made you blush even more. brain too fuzzy to speak, you just gave him a desperate nod and reached up to fumble with his belt. 

oscar chuckles as he helps you unbuckle it, all while keeping your legs hoisted over his broad shoulders. finally he frees himself from his boxers, his hard cock smacking against your stomach. he guided his tip to your entrance, toying with your puffy clit before slipping inside. rubbing your hip reassuringly as he pressed in inch by inch. oscar was big. he filled you up completely, your tight cunt struggling to accommodate all of him. 

“you can move osc, feels good” you practically cry out, pussy fluttering around his length. he leans down to kiss you passionately, beginning to thrust his hips at a steady pace. curses fall from his lips, squeezing his eyes shut as your warmth envelopes him completely over and over again.

“i love you so much baby,” he professes, hands digging into the soft flesh of your tits. you bring your hands up to his face, stroking his cheeks softly with your thumbs. 

“i love you more,” you gasp as he picks up his pace, the sound of slapping skin filling the car. he fucked you harder, practically bending you in half as he drills into your perfect cunt. his cock hit the deepest parts inside of you, your orgasm slowly building up again. 

“oh god i’m almost there,” you cry out as you approach your peak, hands grasping his strong biceps for support. every inch of your body was on fire, pure pleasure coursing through your veins. only oscar could make you feel this way, so loved and filthy at the same time. it was uninhibited ecstasy. 

you scream his name as your orgasm sends waves of shock through your body, your cunt pulsing as oscar thrusts into you deeper through the high. 

“so beautiful baby i’m almost there. shit, you take me so perfectly, gonna cum inside your pretty pussy.” he slurs, drunk on pleasure. just seeing you fall apart brought him even closer to the edge, his restraint falling apart. 

“fill me up osc, wanna feel you” you urge breathlessly, whining as your overstimulated clit brushes against his skin. his movements grow ragged, slowing down as he thrusts one final time and releases inside you. your name falls from his lips as his hot cum paints your walls, filling your needy cunt. his cock throbs as he pulls out, hissing at the sensitivity. 

“you alright love? that was unreal” he praises as he kisses your forehead gently. 

“mhm” you nod tiredly, watching as cum leaks out from your hole, “shit we made such a mess on these nice seats.”

oscar lets out a laugh and guides you to sit up leaning against him for stability, “definitely worth it love.”

“it was amazing, but i still want my cake you promised.” you pout, rubbing his face tenderly. 

“of course, my valentine. but lets take a breather before we drive back, you took everything out of me.” 

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

manifesting

summary: from the moment he laid eyes on you, he just knew, and he’s only ever referred to you as his wife.

warnings: she/her, mention of bars (idk), fluff fluff fluff!

word count: 521.

a/n: long time no see! i knewww i had to write something and this idea has been stuck in my noggin for quite a while. happy valentine’s day and i hope you love it!

***

The first time Jake Seresin saw you, he knew.

He hadn’t even spoken to you yet—hadn’t had the chance. You were laughing at something your friend said, eyes crinkling at the corners as you leaned against the bar at the Hard Deck, completely unaware of the way Jake was standing there, beer halfway to his lips, suddenly frozen in place.

That’s my wife.

The thought came out of nowhere, knocking the breath out of his chest. It wasn’t like him to get caught off guard, but here he was, struck dumb in the middle of the bar, watching you exist like you were placed on this Earth just for him.

The worst part? He didn’t even have the nerve to walk up and say hello.

Oh, he tried. Multiple times. But every time he got close, you were either walking away, mid-conversation with someone else, or—God forbid—he chickened out at the last second. He, Jake Seresin, who had never been shy a day in his life, had turned into a complete coward over one woman.

Still, it never stopped him from calling you what he knew you were.

Over the next few weeks, his friends caught on.

“Hangman, who the hell are you looking for?” Rooster asked one night, watching as Jake’s eyes scanned the Hard Deck like he was on a mission.

“My wife,” he answered simply.

Natasha choked on her drink. “Your what?”

“My wife,” he repeated like it was obvious. “She’s usually here on Thursdays.”

Phoenix’s eyes narrowed. “You mean that girl you won’t even talk to?”

Jake gave her a slow, lazy grin. “Manifesting, darlin’.”

Natasha and Rooster exchanged looks, then promptly burst into laughter.

“You’re ridiculous,” Rooster muttered, shaking his head.

But Jake didn’t care. Because deep down, he knew it was only a matter of time.

—

Years later, Jake leaned against the kitchen counter of the house you now shared, watching as you laughed at him—full-on, doubled-over, tears-in-your-eyes laughing.

“Wait, wait—” You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. “You’re telling me that for months before we even spoke, you were going around calling me your wife?”

Jake shrugged, sipping his coffee like it wasn’t a big deal. “Worked, didn’t it?”

You gaped at him, still half-laughing, half-astonished. “Jake. You manifested our relationship.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying, sweetheart,” he said, ever so smug.

You shook your head, stepping closer until you were standing between his legs, hands resting on his chest. “So, let me get this straight—you saw me once, decided I was going to marry you, and just… ran with it?”

Jake set his coffee down and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Darlin’, the second I laid eyes on you, I knew there was no way in hell I was lettin’ you be anything but mine.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in them betrayed you. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” he said, brushing a kiss against your forehead. “But I was right, wasn’t I?”

You huffed a small laugh, leaning into him. “Yeah, yeah. You were right.”

Jake grinned, pressing his lips to yours. “Told ya.”

[angelfishe]

# 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 ���� 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃

Genshin man x reader

Character : alhaitham, diluc, zhongli, ayato.

You love them with your heart but why would he love you when he's surrounded with more beautiful and talented people more than you, maybe leaving would be a good option you wouldn't burden them as well they could move on into a much better option than you. Disappearing from their life completely

Warning : The reader has an inferiority complex, as well mention of suicide and self harming.

ALHAITHAM

Among the seas of students of the akedemiya there are always ones that shine brighter than the others and alhaitham is no exception, one of the most shining stars that would live brighter than the others. While you are by far a regular spantammad student the only difference is that both of you and him are childhood friends.

Unfortunately for you to fail to see the worth for yourself in his life, he would live a much better life without you interrupting his journeys. So when you hear that there's gonna be an expedition towards outside of sumeru you take it, planning on staying out of his life as much as long as possible even meaning being away from your homeland.

You prevent him from knowing about the expedition, knowing that he would try to convince you to quit it as well making him stress about you leaving making sure you would go unnoticed. Soon he realizes every time you visit your house it becomes less crowded and stuff is neatly packed in a box. He started to be suspicious of what was going on.

So when you invite him towards the bar to hang out, he had a bad feeling this would be the last time seeing you. But he pushed it aside because you're here right now not knowing that the goodbye you wave to each other was the last one. Your presence disappears and when he visits your place it is dead silent not a single thing of your stuff.

DILUC

Coming from a lesser noble clan on mondstat your duty was to be served to someone as wife or decorations. And diluc was the one you were destined to be with on the paper agreement with the previous lord of dawn winery.

It's confusing honestly out of all the options of the daughter of another noble family they chose to be his betrothed. You and him would have play dates together to make you two grow closer but sometimes these playdates would include other noble children like jean from the gundihir clan another noble clan as the ragdnivir. To be honest you understand why he would choose jean in the future she's beautiful I mean if you were in his position you would choose Jean.

Unknowningly diluc was the one that chose you when he took a look at the picture of future spouse for him and when he took a glimpse at your portrait it was love first sight you were the one he dreamed to be with and grow a family. Unfortunately you are unable to see that just like a butterfly is unable to see their own beauty.

When he was at snezhnaya you took this opportunity to finally leave for good packing up your stuff without telling anyone even your parents, so when he returned you were nowhere to be found everyone couldn't find you, you were gone. You believe he would be better without you but in truth he was miserable The world was dark and grey and you were the color and now you're gone and he will use anything to find you.

ZHONGLI

Being a minor goddess that joined alliance with him, you didn't expect he would go infatuated with you. He would willingly risk his life for you rescuing you from a monster that was threatening to kill you and when you saw how injured he was after the fight you realized you were a burden to him.

You fully know your weak compared to the other adepti or gods, your domain is small similar to harvia your best friend and you see your fate will happen similar to her being too weak and your people or your close will kill you if you keep being like this. Seeing you as a weakness for rex lapis and if you die his weakness will die. His people and the other need him more than you.

One day, you hear that a new monster has been rampaging and you believe this would be a good way to finally rid of yourself so people won't question your intention. You grab your weapon and ready to the battlefield, when rex lapis got word he arrived you were unfortunately dead watching your body being devoured by the beast.

From that day he blamed himself for your demise as well asking why would recklessly charge yourself to battle after knowing your weakness, in modern liyue he felt a sense of familiarity and saw you walking maybe it's not too late to love you this time he shows you how much he loves you.

AYATO

You couldn't blame him for hiding you from the world knowing a relationship with a master and a servant would be heavily forbidden by the public as well being one of his weaknesses, he needs to appear untouchable in front of the public as well as his enemies to protect you and the clan.

In close door he loves you and showers you with gifts and affection while on the outside he treats you as if you were just a normal servant under his orders another disposable chest piece.

When you were poison, hes eyes would instantly went towards your form but unable to reach you because people were dragging you away and he need to show face of a composed person but how can he act when the love of his eyes was dying in the other room.

One day a resignation letter appeared at his office when he was not at home and thoma informed him you left a day before leaving a letter telling him to move on and love another person and not you. He track your footprints and found you at sumeru studying there as a new student and new alias he ready a ship because he's gonna need explanation from you what you mean move on. Come back to his arms please if you won't he's gonna die without your touch

[squishygirl46]

Hi everyone, this is a story about my deepest fantasies and dreams. It will be written about me Let me know if you like it. Part one: the beginning.

God, I don't know where I am, some man left a camera in the room and said I had to speak my mind on it or I would be killed. The last thing I remember is leaving the house to go to the store. Now I'm here and I don't know what's going on, I'm so scared….. There's only one dim lamp in this room, a big bed, a toilet, a speaker on the wall and a door. I'm probably going to be killed or raped, I don't know, I'm so scared. Suddenly a masked man came into the room, carrying a scale and a camera.

- Hi said: Get on the scale and take off your clothes. I obediently did everything he ordered. Completely naked I stood on the scale which said 45 kilograms(99 pounds). -You're skinny, now stand against the wall and turn sideways. I went to the wall and turned around, then he told me to stand in front of him and he was taking pictures. What a shame… But I can't help it, I'm so scared. After this strange photo shoot and weighing, the man left. I don't know how much time had passed, but I was very hungry. Luckily the man came back soon and brought a huge tray of food on a gurney. Fried chicken, potatoes, meat pies, pancakes, brownies and cake. There were also several bottles of soda and some pills.

-Whoa, why so much food, I can't eat that much. -No one's asking you. He told me to take two pills and a soda. After I drank them he left and closed the door behind him. I started eating and as usual I got full very quickly, literally after a couple wings my little tummy was full and I laid down to rest and fell asleep, I don't know how long I slept but after I woke up the food was still there and I was very very very hungry…. I started eating again. A few wings, then a brownie, washed it all down with soda, then wings again, then potatoes and then soda again… I could feel my stomach filling up, but the hunger didn't go away, and only after 30 minutes of eating and stopped for breath…. -Oh, God, what was that just now? -Ufff. I mumbled. I looked at the tray, it was covered in leftovers. I put my head down and saw that my stomach was protruding very much, as if I had been inflated like a car tire…. And it was so hard. I was very thin and this protuberance really stood out. I laid back on the bed and dozed off….. When I woke up, the tray was gone, but on the wall were my pictures and a graph with my weight written on it. God, what does that mean, am I being fattened up? I've always worked hard on my figure, I don't want to be fat, I need to exercise to burn off the calories from that gluttony. I got out of bed and started doing exercises, 50 squats, 10 push-ups and 50 abs, then I rested and did them again.

-Fuuuuh, now we can have a little snack, as long as we don't eat too much. Right after these words, this man came in again with a tray, this time there were mountains of fast food, 5 big burgers, a bucket of fries, wings, nuggets, and 2 bottles of coke. -Oh my god, I'm not allowed to eat that, I've always avoided fast food in my life-. But the man silently handed me two pills. -No, I won't take them, they make me unable to stop eating! In response to these words, he just took them and put them in my mouth, then clamped my nose and poured cola into my mouth, I had to swallow them…. -Good appetite- he said and left. I decided that a little fast food wouldn't hurt my figure, especially if I kept doing exercises, or even more exercises, yes, it wouldn't hurt. I took the smallest burger I could find and took a bite. -God, this is so good,” I said with my mouth full. And a wave of warmth spread through my body. -Yeah, one burger wouldn't hurt me. -Yeah. But I couldn't stop at one, as soon as I finished it I took a Coke to drink, I thought I'd just drink a little bit, but I started gulping it down greedily, like I hadn't had a drink in a year. I only stopped when I had half a bottle. Right after that, I went on a food binge. A burger, another one, fries, nuggets, all dipped in sauce and swallowed before I could chew. After 30 minutes of such piggishness, I felt nauseous and almost threw up. I decided to lie down and rest.

-I ate a ton of food again, my God, what am I turning into, but ok, I'll exercise some more and everything will be fine. I put my hand on my warm, bloated tummy and fell asleep. When I woke up I thought it would be a good idea to exercise. Like last time I got up and started squatting, but I stopped at 30 reps and sat on the bed…. The leftovers were beckoning me… -Okay, I've done enough, I can have a snack. I finished everything on the tray and went back to sleep… It went on like that for about two weeks

[asheepinfrance]

patrick blurb because valentines day. its short and hopefully a little sweet. im soso sorry that this isnt longer, i have two other things i can hopefully get out soon but i write everything day of (stupid) and am traveling so took no time out to write (stupider). regardless i hope you enjoy. as always, comments and critiques are welcome.

If there’s one thing Patrick is, at least with you, it’s a horrible liar. The poor man couldn’t get away with fibbing to save his life. Not that being bad at dishonesty is an issue, in fact, it’s quite the opposite, but there have been times where it would’ve been a welcome presence in your relationship. He couldn’t even lie about liking those jeans you’d picked off the rack, even though it was fairly clear you wanted them, despite claiming that you just couldn’t make up your mind on them. 

So, when he calls and says, “Babe… can you believe that they just extended tour?” you decide to humor him just this once. For one, the excuse was a weak one, and made little to no sense if you thought about it for more than a second or two, but you could just hear the smug ass grin he was wearing. He thinks he’s a genius.

You feign a sigh, twirling the drawstring of your hoodie around your pointer finger before placing it in the seam of your lips. You mumble something about ‘Oh, baby, that’s just terrible’ because, frankly, he’s not the type to care about your less than convincing acting job as long as he’s getting the reaction he wants in general. He’s complaining about needing to book a new hotel, something that he’s actually willing to pay for himself, when he barges into your room and manages to nearly scare you off your bed. He’s got that same stupid grin on his face that you’d previously imagined, now holding his arms wide as if to present himself to you. “This’ll do.”

You’re taking too long to process for his liking, because he drops his bags with a heavy thud, completely uncaring for the equipment stored inside, and makes his way towards you. You can’t manage anything, not the ‘How did you get in here?’ that you should definitely concern yourself with, just a soft murmur of “Patrick…” before throwing yourself at him as hard as you can manage to. He’s strong, noticeably stronger since the last time you saw him about three months ago, and manages to catch your weight with such ease it hardly looks like you weigh a thing. 

The past few days had been hard, as he’d let you know through several hours-long phone calls, but god, if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes. The way his smile softens says it all, and he’s just breathing in your presence, your scent, the hints of perfume lingering on the fabric of your hoodie. He’s right at home with it. He knows that when the moment’s through, and the shock’s worn off, you’ll be ashamed by your choice of outfit, your lack of makeup, the mess of hair on your head. He thinks it’s the most beautiful he’s ever seen you, and he didn’t think you could get better than perfection, but here he is, pressed against it. 

He’s got to be uncomfortable, kneeling at your bedside this long, but he can put that aside for now. Right now, he’s with his girl for the first time in the longest three months of his life and he’s not letting go, knees be damned. He presses a few kisses wherever he can manage to reach, and the laugh you let out when you feel his lips just above yours is enough to send him reeling. It sounds so much clearer here than over the phone. He’d thought you were radiant then, even through a screen, but now? Now he’s just about certain you’re made of more light than each star combined. He’d tell you that if he could, but with his habit of saying things just slightly less eloquently than he means to, he opts for just saying “I missed you”.

You know him. Know he means a lot more than he can properly express with his way of speaking. He’s got a lot of ways of showing it, at least. Falling asleep next to a propped up phone, listening to his breathing grow slower, steadier. Finding little notes from month-old visits in odd corners of your room, scrawled in his signature chicken-scratch only you can manage to decode. The way he holds you like you’re fragile and looks at you like too much exposure to his presence could damage you, despite it doing just the opposite, tells you what you needs to know. He means he loves you.

You breathe out a laugh, one that your shoulders raise with.

“Yeah… missed you, too.”

[riovidql]

i thought that i was dreaming when you said you loved me — AGATHARIO

“Honey, I’m home!” Rio said as she walked through the door, getting out of her shoes and losing her coat. “God, you will not believe the day I had. I swear, one of these days it will be proven that stupidity can kill. Then I will finally have pea- Agatha…?” She stops, because Agatha is nowhere to be seen, or felt, for that matter. What the fuck?

“Uhm, Agatha? Scratchy?” She shouts. No answer. Fuck. “Fuck, did I walk into the wrong apartment again?” But then a little ball of fur comes running down the hall, stopping precisely in front of her. She kneels down. “Hey, bunny. Where’s your mama?” She, funny enough, scratches behind Scratchy’s ear as she picks him up. He looks like he knows, but won’t tell. Well, of course he won’t tell me where she is, he can’t talk.

“Okay… Scavenger hunt it is then. And you,” she looks directly into his eyes. “Are coming with me. Agatha won’t murder, burn, bite or whatever she’s… We’re… Uhm. She behaves when you’re around! You’re my shield, is what I’m saying. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Agathaaa! Where the fuck are you?”

She looked everywhere. Even under the rugs. A woman could never be too safe. And honestly, it’s Agatha. And Rio could, obviously, try her phone. But one thing about Agatha Harkness is she absolutely, completely, despises phones. And technology over all; (some will say it’s because she doesn’t know how to use it, she will deny profusely, she just is above it).

Rio was tired. She had a long ass day at work, and she needed sleep, and no one could argue she did not look for her wife, Señor Scratchy was witness. Though that rabbit always chose her wife’s side anyway. Useless, traitor bunny. But she did send her a text, though.

As she laid down on the couch, with the little pet comfortably under her chin and the low, background noise of the TV, she dozed off. She wouldn’t know what time that actually happened or how long she was napping for… People were taking longer to get to the fucking point, traffic was ass, the elevator was broken so she had to take the stairs, and this nosy neighbor stopped her for unsolicited advice, boring gossip. And she still had to go look for Agatha. If you asked Rio, she would say that day had approximately 87 hours. And counting.

And as if it couldn’t get worse, she woke up from her sleep with a killer headache. National Fuck Rio Vidal Day, fuck me. ‘Did Agatha at least get home?’ was her second thought, but as she was regaining her consciousness and taking in her surroundings, the smell caught her senses. “What the fuck?” It smelled like…? Chicken? And bechamel sauce? And was that Agatha moving a spoon on a pan? Wait. Was Agatha cooking? Just for how long, exactly, had she been out for and did she or did she not mistakenly alternate realities? “What the fuck.” She says a little more loud this time, making Agatha look over her shoulder with a smirk.

“I thought you were dead.”

“And then you decided to cook? Aren’t you just the most romantic thing in the world.” Rio scoffs.

“Unfortunately, I was wrong.”

“Charmer.” Then Rio remembers. “Where the fuck were you? And why didn’t you call, or text? Or left a fucking note stuck on Scratchy?”

“Out.”

“Out? That’s all you have to say after disappearing for hours and making me turn and toss and destroy this apartment looking for you?” Rio crosses her arms, mildly annoyed by her wife’s nonchalant responses.

“It didn’t look like you were turning and tossing and destroying this apartment when I got here.” Agatha was smiling big now and oh, Rio fucking despised her. Fuck Agatha, was what she was going to do later.

“Fine!” She rolls her eyes, lying down on the couch again. “Just be quiet. Someone decided it was a good idea to play drums inside my head.” And just like that, she dozed off again.

When she rose, it was to a glass of water and two ibuprofens placed on the coffee table in front of her, which she gratefully took. Maybe she didn’t really despise Agatha. Or maybe the water was poisoned. Either way, she looked around and she saw that her wife was on a stool leaning over their countertop, her back facing Rio as her body looked like it was focused. Was Agatha writing hate letters to Jen, again? Standing quietly, she made her way to her wife, not wanting to startle her. Fine, she didn’t want to make Agatha aware she was snooping around her business.

That was when she saw it. Agatha was drawing. Drawing plants, elaborate ones. The pages on display had four different kind of greens, each one with their own description and functionality, all painted and shadowed, except for the one she was just starting to work on. Rio was actually, maybe for the first time in her life, stunned. Well, except for when Agatha climbed on top of her in bed and-

What was even weirder was that Agatha was so focused on her task that she didn’t even notice Rio lurking behind her. Or that Rio was actually shedding real, big ass tears. Cry baby. “What is that?” She finally spoke, which she wished she didn’t ‘cause now there was a hand coming to slap her and Rio was caught off guard and there was no way she could react fast enough to dodge a very loud, and painful, slap on her face. “Are you fucking crazy?” She shouted after a few moments.

“If you didn’t stand there like a freak for God knows how long and scared the shit out of me, all of this could’ve been avoided.” Agatha continued to draw.

“And somehow it’s my fault.” Rio wasn’t finding the situation cute anymore.

“Yeah, it is. Good girl.” You could hear the smirk in her voice.

“Oh, fuck off.” She continued lurking. “What are you doing.”

Agatha actually blushed. “What I was doing was dinner, but somebody decided to sleep. Again.”

“Quit stalling, Agatha. What is this?”

“I’ve found a hobby.” She said simply.

“You’ve found a hobby? And it has something to do with plants? The very same thing you tease me about every single day and call me a nerd for?”

“Just wanted to know what the hype was all about. So I’ve been taking a few classes, going to some lectures, you know how it is.” Rio has no idea how it is.

“About plants?” She deadpans.

“Obviously.”

“Right.”

Agatha turns to look at Rio and says, “Dinner is ready.”

Rio is speechless, dumbfounded, stunned (again), blabla. What the fuck was wrong with her wife? Maybe she shouldn’t have got up today.

“Wait a minute.” She grabs Agatha’s arm as she stands. “You? Made dinner? And it smelled good? And we’re still alive?” Rio wasn’t so sure about the last part.

“Sue me for wanting to make something nice for my wife?”

Huh. “Am I missing something here?”

“God, Rio. You’re so annoying. I fucking made you dinner ‘cause class ran late and traffic was awful and I got here after you and felt bad. And your ass was sleeping so infuriatingly cutely with Scratchy, and you looked so tired. I am taking botany classes and going to approximately a million lectures a week about plants because you do so much for me and I just wanted to show you that I care too. Was that what you wanted to hear?” Agatha made her best to look annoyed, but Rio knew her and could see just the tiniest spark of insecurity in her eyes. She pretended she didn’t see. Or she would be feet deep buried.

“My love.” Rio said weakly. God, she loved, hated, her wife. Agatha eyes softened at the two words.

“Can I go back to my drawing now?” Leave it to Agatha to run from any type of emotional moment. Even after years married. This bitch.

“Ah yes, and you’re gonna tell me all about those classes of yours. How long have you been keeping this from me? And what is up with that draw game. I did not know you had it in you.”

“I have very skilled hands, I think you of all people would know that.” Agatha winked at her. Show off.

“Debatable.” Then Rio started running for her life. This time she had a good reaction time.

HEY! i just love these witches so much it really got me back to writing after YEARS. if anyone see this, i hope u enjoy it :)

[nectardaddy]

BITTER . . . kyotani “mad dog” kentaro + f! reader

                     𖥔    CHAPTER THREE : ROTTEN DOGS    𖥔

warnings : 17+ to read, language, crime, blood + violence, manipulation

a/n : a little short and might be a little boring but let me world build, it picks up after this trust

Kyotani runs a business through fear and dogged loyalty.

A business of bruised knuckles and broken bones, bloody noses and cracked lips. A fight club. In a dingy basement and a hushed reputation; nobodies and somebodies alike came there, and all for one thing - debt. 

Shady deals are always made under the table.

They came to him in debt, he fixed the problem - for a price. He put a leash on them, made them fight; if they won, he got a cut. “No strings attached” at first glance, but someone was quick to rat out anyone who ran. Now, people look at him in disgust, in a stirring anger that festers until they're a shell of the person they once were - a dog on a chain. Pawns. Nothing more. 

The “business” grew around him at a speed he couldn't comprehend. He remembered it used to be just guys beating the hell out of each other for no other reason than boredom. Now they beat the hell out of each other for cold, hard cash. Strangers, friends, and so called found family now intertwined themselves in a seedy business practice that would land them in prison - again. 

Now he uses it to his advantage.

He lies, cheats, steals, and manipulates. Finds people's darkest secrets and deepest fears, and pins it above them as a warning. He ruins their lives and doesn't lose a single moment of sleep over it. 

Kyotani is one felony away from his third strike; after that, he'll be put away for god knows how long. 

His first was arson. After a handful of misdemeanors and recklessness, he found himself lighting a car ablaze to prove a point. The only point he found was covering his tracks better.

He thought he learned his lesson, but then came the second: armed robbery. Did it for a friend who later ratted on him the second the police got him alone. But now the felon walks the guy like a dog because of a gambling addiction and a foreclosed house - karma was a bitch. Kyotani finds it funny to see him choke on his own spit and tears when he fights, laughs when he's kicked to the ground and pleads for the fight to stop. 

The guy hasn't won a single fight since he started, and won't. He'll forever be choking on the collar placed on him because the only thing rats do best is rot. 

He was close to getting his third when he got arrested the last time - the time that landed him in anger management. He likes to dabble in the fights himself, but more often than not he takes it too far. He starts seeing red when they taunt and tease him, and he loses himself completely amidst the blood and sweat.

Almost got nailed with attempted murder. But he talked his way out of it at the station (in all reality, he framed someone else for it who had run too far off leash). His only misstep was trying to punch a cop when the arrest took place - oink too much and he lands in jail again - so now he takes anger management because his crooked lawyer has a silver tongue. 

He's more cautious now with deals, doesn't hang around Iwa and the others now that police have sniffed them out, and keeps his own nose clean. 

He makes his dogs do the dirty work for him.

They only say yes because they're scared of him, terrified of what he'd do if they dared say no. They've seen the extent of his anger, a lack of words and a plethora of pain, so they grin and bear it when given a filthy order. Even coined the name “Mad Dog” for the sole fact they thought he was fucking crazy.

But the few that aren't scared of him, the ones that bark and scratch and bite right back, he keeps. He likes those types, reminds him of himself, and he keeps them close to the fold. Yahaba was one. Knew him from high school, used to hang around Iwa's group, but wound up in a load of debt from drugs and gambling. He was a lanky guy, selfish, arrogant, and a mouth that would one day get him killed. Kyotani likes that about him. Likes that he fights back and gnashes his teeth. Likes that he can't be controlled. 

But he's loyal nonetheless. 

Yahaba was a one man army. He knows a bit of everything about everyone - he's the whisper in Mad Dog's ear. From liars, to thieves, and snitches, Yahaba would always find out. And would always tell Kyotani. 

It's cold outside when Kyotani leaves his shitty apartment. He's got on layers, a worn out sweatshirt and an old leather jacket, but the cold eats right through them. But he doesn't have a far walk, so he sucks it up and keeps walking. 

It's almost seven, and at eight he starts his nightly ritual of watching others nearly kill themselves for money. He watches the cash jar slowly fill until it spills over with bets, watches nobodies and somebodies all gather for the same ruthless thing - a good old fashioned fight.

He never understood the appeal of watching fights. It was bloody and gruesome, but he found his target audience and leaned in further when money started flooding in. It all started just so he could let his anger out. To pour out his rage onto others who willingly wanted it to begin with. Though he imagined they never expected to be beaten to a pulp - but he did it regardless. It was fun to him, a game almost. Watching other's eyes dilate with fear once he landed the first punch was like a drug. 

And he simply couldn't get enough of it.

He leaves his apartment early, most days, to get to the abandoned warehouse down the street before anyone else. Despite his forthcomings, he enjoys the quiet before the storm. Likes the festering feeling in his gut before a good fight. Today isn't any different. 

He takes a pack of cigarettes from his pocket along with a lighter, and lights the first one he can get his hands on. The nicotine makes his shoulders drop and he sighs. 

Anger management was killing him. 

It was boring and stupid, he doesn't need some therapist telling him shit he already knows. He's well aware of his anger, and doesn't care in the slightest. He has an outlet for it, the only downside is that it's not legal. But he stays despite the feelings because truly anything is better than being locked up for twenty plus years.

There's a woman there that pisses him off, his “accountability partner,” who sits there and taps her foot until he wants to throw the very chair he sits in. Who snaps back at him without a care despite a look that could kill; and there's a disgusting voice in his head that claims he likes it. Likes how she fires back with venom, likes how he can tell she's holding herself back, and likes the fact that she absolutely hates him. 

He burnt his cigarette all the way down on his walk, and he flicks it to the ground when he goes to open the door. It stays unlocked, abandoned, empty, until it hits eight and then things start to pick up.

But it's seven and he only knows of one other person that would be here this early. And he's proven right once he makes his way towards the basement. 

His loyal little lap dog Yahaba. 

“Yaku's off the fucking rails.” The man's voice echoes in the empty room, wide and only filled with a makeshift ring in the middle. There's dried blood on the floor, some in specks and some in puddles. Looks like a crime scene in places, and probably is.

“Good for him.” The apathy in his words makes Yabaha roll his eyes. But still the other shoots him a look like he's lost his mind; Yahaba is almost certain that he has.

“No, not good for him.” He argues, “We're losing money.” 

Yaku wasn't a stranger to the brawls, nor was he a stranger to a leash. A year ago he was a dog on a chain, locked down by debt from drugs and liquor. But he was ruthless, blood thirsty, and itched to sink his teeth into others despite his stature. It paid off. Now the man is owned by no one, but comes to let off steam from a failed relationship and the need to draw blood. He beats others within an inch of their lives for fun, not for debt. 

There's a pause before Kyotani turns to get a good look at him, and he watches as the other keeps his gaze. He's sitting in a chair across the room with his phone in his hands, but closes it when Mad Dog finally looks at it. Yahaba was never one to back down - it would get him killed one day. “We?” The tone shift is palpable, and his eyes narrow at the man across from him. Once a dog, always a dog - and the other man knows it all too well.

He changes the subject. “He's talking to Kuroo.” 

Kuroo Tetsuro, a flashy guy in a suit with a devious backdoor business of selling drugs. A lot of the people under Mad Dog are here because of him, got too caught in his suave and finesse to realize they were being swindled. A pipeline from drugs to fighting. 

The blonde takes a chair opposite to Yahaba, and flips it so he straddles it. The screech of it echoes off the concrete walls, and neither of the men flinch at it. Leaning his arms against the back of it, he lets out a huff. “What's he stirring up?” 

“Kuroo wants his money.” The statement hangs in the air with a weight, both men can see it.

There's a peak in his lips at the words, like he wants to laugh. To giggle and chuckle at the sinking sentence in the room - but he doesn't. He only keeps the small smirk, and the other knows all too well what it means. Kyotani would fight today, and Yaku should start getting his will together. “I'll handle it.” 

“Are you sure you want to do that?” Caution in the man's voice makes Kyotani's smirk only peak a bit more. 

“The rat dug his grave, the least I can do is put him in it.” 

taglist (open, reply to the masterlist or send an ask)

@phoenix-eclipses @wyrcan @warlocksoup @yogurtkags @bakery-anon 

@crypt-0rchid @hyunteru @kameyyy @nekozaki @angelichwv

@a-girl-cant-decide-on-a-name @localgaytrainwreck @standcom @ggggbabybaby2 @chaloume

@kawoala @evilari111 @baylz @sahrii @cryoarm

@solzscribblez @chososcamgirl @lavender-pink-socks @nobodybutnnoorr

[demigodsanswer]

Waffley Wedded

They had written their own vows, and those had already made Percy cry. And he still didn’t really consider himself a crier. Eight years with Annabeth had brought it out of him a bit more, sure, but he really didn’t cry much. And certainly not in front of fifty-something people. But today the tears barely stopped. 

He couldn’t help it. He loved her. And they were finally getting married. Forever. They were going to be together forever. They were going to be married! They were going to have babies! She was going to be his wife! He could finally introduce her as his wife! He was so excited. (They’d had to do a few small quests for Hera to get her approval, but eventually they had the blessing of the queen of the gods, and they could start planning their day.) 

It still didn’t feel entirely real that they’d made it this far. But of course they had. They were together, and as long as they were together, they could make it through anything. 

Annabeth’s dress had been the only surprise so far. She’d never been particularly girly. Even her prom dresses had been relatively simple. So the light blue Cinderella ball gown complete with frills had been a surprise. But a welcome one at that. She looked stunning, and so, so happy to finally be up there with him. 

Grover had his part of course, as the officiant, he was in charge of making sure he and Annabeth didn’t veer off track too much. He’d done a good job. They had made it to the official, old school vows without hiccups to delays. 

“Repeat after me,” Grover said to him. “I, Percy Jackson …” 

“I, Percy Jackson …” his heart was beating fast with anticipation and maybe just a few nerves. Not nervous about marrying her, just nerves that somehow it still wouldn’t happen. Like he’d wake up in two seconds and be twelve years old again. But then, he figured, he’d get to go through everything with Annabeth again. And that wouldn’t be so bad, maybe. 

“Take thee Annabeth …” 

“Take thee Annabeth …” Great, he said the right name! Not that there ever was another name he could have said, but it was nice to get it right when it really counted. 

“To be my lawfully wedded wife …” 

“To be my waffley wedded…” wait. Had he said waffle? Annabeth’s lips were pressed together in a tight smile as she tried not to laugh. Oh he’d absolutely said waffley. 

The thing about Annabeth was that even when she was laughing at him for doing something stupid, she somehow managed to never make him feel bad about it. Percy always felt like he was in on the joke with her. It helped that Annabeth was often prettiest when she was laughing, with or at him. He loved her laugh, and how easily her laugh climbed from something small to a high pitched scream, before sound disappeared from her completely. 

Of course, during their vows wasn’t exactly the time he wanted to say something stupid and make her laugh. 

A giggle escaped her. A few people in the audience started to giggle too. 

Well, better roll with it, he figured. 

“... and pancakey,” Percy added. 

That did it. That broke Annabeth. Her shoulders started to shake as her full-blown laughter started, and Percy couldn’t help but laugh along. She leaned forward towards him, and he pulled her in close as they, and most of the people watching, started to laugh. 

It took them a few minutes to start again, because every time Percy and Annabeth thought they were done, they just looked at each other, and the fit of giggles started all over. Yeah, he thought, he could easily do this forever. 

Finally, Grover cleared his throat. “Should we try again?” Grover offered. 

“Yeah sure,” Percy said. 

This time he did manage to get through the vows without lisping, slurring, or stuttering. 

“Annabeth,” Grover said, turning to her. She already looked like she was going to cry. And not from laughing at him. “Repeat after me. I, Annabeth Chase …” 

She followed along, not waffling on any of the words, until she got to “In sickness and in health.” 

“At breakfast and at lunch,” she said. 

Percy laughed then; his laugh was the loudest in the room then. He started to pull her in for a kiss, but Grover put a hand between them. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” He chided. “Leave room for Pan! We’re not there yet! Let’s get through the vows and rings?” 

They both nodded. Percy was pretty sure that after that, Annabeth was racing through her vows. 

Finally, they got the rings. He got the ring on her finger like an old pro. They’d been practicing for weeks. At that part, they both did start crying again. 

“You may now,” Grover said, before taking a painfully long pause. Annabeth was bouncing up and down, a small movement that was extremely exaggerated by her flouncy dress, “kiss the bri --” 

Percy swept her up in his arms before Grover could finish the word. 

It had been nine years since their first explosive kiss, and he still never got tired of it. 

~

I saw a video of this happening to a groom, and I knew I had to make it Percabeth.

[1009files]

Liebestraum No. 3

synopsis Eighteen year old Y/n, the daughter of two accomplished musicians, spends her summers surrounded by aspiring artists in her father’s prestigious program. Among them is Heeseung, a quiet, talented pianist who captivates Y/n with his reserved nature and mysterious charm. Amid the music, family expectations, and unspoken feelings, Y/n must navigate her growing affection for Heeseung and decide what she truly wants for her future—and her heart.

word count 2k+

contains fluff, summer love, rivals to lovers, teenagers in love, eventual smut (in the next chapters), comfort, heeseung x reader, slow burn

author’s note hi guys! this is my first post and first time writing something like this~ english is not my main language so there might be errors! i wish to make this a series with an eventual time skip to make things more interesting <3 i hope you like it^^

chapter 1

Your fingers softly brushed through the black and white tiles, like a ballerina spinning rapidly on her pointy shoes. They danced, at times increasing their speed, hungrier and expectant for the next one, until the running stopped.

Your right hand played a single-note melody, while the left one sustained a long, flowing chord. Your fingers were delicate now, more careful as if you were too scared to touch the piano, or it might break into million pieces.

“Incredible! Truly stunning, my dear!”

You didn’t notice your mother entering the studio with a satisfied look on her face, making you suddenly aware of your surroundings, while turning to look at her.

“Oh my, mom! I told you not to startle me when I practice!”

Your parents loved to brag about you with the rest of your family and friends. You knew you were good, but you were a perfectionist and always aimed for more.

“What can I say, you are indeed your father’s child…besides, dinner is ready and tomorrow is an important day~” she said with a sweet tone, still looking more serious, reminding you of your duties.

You know what was next, you wouldn’t have the room just for yourself. The blinds would finally be shut open, welcoming the light from the sun that would soon illuminate the big wooden piano in the center of the room. The pillows of the sofa and most books from the library would be scattered around and the little glass table in front of it would have pastries and beverages ready for everyone, while your father would begin to explain the summer program to his students.

You were used to this, it wasn’t really a big deal to you.

For almost three years your father had been welcoming his most privileged pupils to hold private lessons for them, preparing them to enter the prestigious conservatory in your city, which your eighteen year old self was expectant to attend.

Most students returned each summer, some aimed to enter the academy but still came for extra practice. This is actually how you met your current best friend, Jungwon.

His cheerful personality made it easy for you to get along with him. He was a bit of a prankster and sooner or later, you two found yourselves running around the tight colored alleys of the countryside, under the hot sun of the summer.

“Y/n wait!”

“Come on, Jungwon! Are you really scared of a little water??” You said, wetting him with a hose you found on a nearby garden.

“What are you saying?? I’m completely soaked! Your mom will kill us if we enter the house like this!”

Your eyes suddenly widened.

Oh my god. The music sheets.

Screw the water, you were supposed to keep them completely safe and now they were most likely wet and-

Jungwon started laughing at your shocked expression. Making his way to his backpack, he quickly took the precious dry and brand-new looking sheets out, holding them in his hand.

“You looking for these?” He smirked with an entertained look in his face.

“Give me those! Oh my God, Jungwon I almost died!”

“You’re such a drama queen!” He laughed, running away from you.

You two were actually pretty similar. Even though he was younger, there was a sparkle of responsibility in his behavior that often made you come to your senses. You could always count on him, that’s why most of the time you confessed your cheesy teenage stories and dreams to each other, whether it was an awkward situation or a romantic interest, like the big crush you had on Lee Heeseung.

Well, you still didn’t know yet.

Your first impression of Heeseung was that he was pretty shy. You were introverted yourself, but he wasn’t much of a talker—for some reason, that made you curious and at times, you would act bratty around him. You knew this wasn’t the best way to approach him, but you felt like that was the only way to get close to him…as if that made any sense.

Like you, he was considered pretty talented: the boy had a perfect pitch and he could play both the piano and the guitar. Despite his age, he was a bit taller than you and you couldn’t help but notice his big brown eyes scanning the studio, before entering each time.

Did he see me staring?—you’d think, quickly gazing away from him when his eyes met yours.

He was magnetic and you couldn’t resist, but you always wondered where your sudden curiosity for him came from.

What’s your deepest meaning for music, Lee Heeseung?

Can I share my secrets with you?

Why don’t you talk to me?

It wasn’t easy for him to break his shell either.

One night, you were all seated around the big table outside the house, a plastic cloth on it and half a watermelon cut into portions for everyone to eat. The air was humid and salty, as if the sea wasn’t so far from the porch. After a nice dinner, your parents left soon to sleep, so you were chatting under the starry night.

“I didn’t think you’d come back this year as well, Hoon. ” Jungwon asked, shuffling some cards between his fingers.

Sunghoon stretched on the chair with his arms behind his head. “Yeah well, my parents think my sister still needs some practice before she’ll get used to the conservatory,” he said, turning to look at you. “So i thought I’d come to say hi again...”

You instinctively blushed and looked down at your hands. There was always some sort of connection between you two. He was the child of two talented musicians, so him and his sister would often spend their summer at the studio.

“My parents always have a plan for everything…” he admitted, for a moment lost in his thoughts. You knew what he meant.

“Sounds like you’ve got your whole life mapped out…does it ever get old?” Jungwon sighed with a knowing look.

Despite your talent, sometimes you wondered if your passion really did come from a deep interest or rather you were supposed to like it, because that is how things went for you.

On the other side of the table, Heeseung was listening to the conversation while taking a bite out of his gelato. With him hanging around this time, those thoughts weren’t so rare. You turned your head to look at him. How was he always so calm about everything? Could he feel any emotion at all?

“Oh, Heeseung!“ Jungwon’s voice interrupted your thoughts. “I saw your recital last year!”

Liebestraum No. 3.

You remember Jungwon telling you about a performance that made him feel shivers all over his body. He was always the empathetic type, but he’s never had this kind of reaction for anything else before. He could almost feel everything around him transforming, Heeseeung’s figure in the middle of a moonlit garden. White lilies shimmering under the sky, the chilly air making them move at a slow pace.

“Seriously, how do you play like this without getting nervous?”

Not knowing how to take the compliment, Heeseung shifted uncomfortably in his chair, but smiled softly with a light flush on his cheeks.

So he wasn’t a robot?

You started to get annoyed at the idea that you never got to see his most vulnerable side. Sure, you could hear him playing in the studio sometimes, but it wasn’t the same thing.

A dry chuckle escaped your mouth.

“You make it sound so easy…” You murmur.

You didn’t want to be rude and knew that your comment was out of place. Immediately you shut your mouth.

“I-“ Your eyes widening.

Everybody’s attention was on you now, which you hated. Heeseung’s expression was once again unreadable.

“I’m going to bed.” You got up out of embarrassment and headed quickly to your room. Jungwon rushing behind you, but you ran faster up the stairs, until his voice calling you was long gone.

The sound of the waves filled up Heeseung’s ears. His pants were rolled up so the water on the shore wouldn’t wet them. Some clouds starting to prepare the sky for the rain. He liked the quiet, but often blamed himself for not stepping up at the right time. It wasn’t just his personality, Heeseung could be bold if he wanted to, he just preferred to observe from time to time.

Suddenly he heard your voice from afar. “Aren’t you coming to practice today? My dad has been looking for you everywhere…”

“I thought you didn’t want to see me?”

“Really? You barely ever spoke to me and that’s the first thing that comes to your mind?”

He took a step closer to you. His feet shifting the hot sand.

Standing in front of him you realized how tall he actually was. Some of his hair strands moved with the light wind and covered bits of his face. You felt your breath quicken as you tried to avoid his gaze.

He held out his hand to you.

“What?”

“Let’s try this again. Give me your hand please.” You freeze. “Uhm..”

“Come on…” He insisted. His eyebrows raising.

You reluctantly reached out, looking at him with squinted eyes, unsure of his intentions. He gently took your hand and kissed the back of it, leaning forward slightly.

You quickly got away from his hold.

“…Wh- What do you think you’re doing??”

His confidence suddenly gone as you noticed his ears getting red.

“I’m sorry. I-…I don’t know how to talk to you.” he admitted, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

“You look…so dumb right now. ” you chuckled at his embarrassment, almost laughing.

“I know, I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable last night.” His eyes softening and looking more sincere.

You didn’t think he did. It was more like you acted out of jealousy and you only blamed yourself for that.

You cleared your throat, not wanting to remember what happened. “Uhm…do you want to get away from here? I’m sure my dad wouldn’t mind for today.” You lied, but Heeseung seemed chattier than usual so it was worth it. He was surprised at your statement but still nodded slowly. A big smile printed on his face.

It was almost evening and the sun was setting already. Everybody was getting ready for dinner, so you could feel the lights from inside the houses illuminating the streets of the village.

After walking for a while you reached a swing on a nearby park, Heeseung following you with an amused look on his face.

He was now standing in front of you. “What are you, ten?” a mocking tone in his voice.

You rolled your eyes and shot him a look. “You’re so boring…” You stuck out your tongue at him, a grin pulling at your lips. “Come on, push me.”

Heeseung chuckled, taking his hands out of his pockets.

“You’re older than me and yet, here you are, swinging your legs like a little kid…”

Besides his provocative comment, he stood behind you, pushing you from your back. He watched as the chilly wind brushed your hair away from your face, softly tickling his hands each time he touched you. He was as delicate as possible and found himself staring at the way your sundress perfectly hugged your lower waist. The ends of it moving back and forth with the swing and, as you got closer, he could almost taste the sweet strawberry scent of the lollipop you held in your hand.

Heeseung was intoxicated by you, and of course he blamed it all on his feverish teenage hormones. Things were still pretty awkward between you two, but right at that moment he felt bolder than usual. He pushed you again — once, then twice, and then a third time. You began to feel the swing slowing down, coming to a stop with a quiet creak. You glanced back at him, a confused frown tugging at your brows, only to freeze as his hand moved toward you.

Heeseung’s touch was careful at first, but it sent a jolt through you when his finger brushed down your exposed spine. You inhaled sharply, suddenly aware of the way your chest was rising and falling. He moved slowly, deliberately, his fingers tracing the line of your back with a tenderness you hadn’t expected. The cool rain, which had started to drizzle, landed softly on your skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat that suddenly bloomed in your chest.

The touch lingered a little too long, his finger pressing gently into the curve of your lower back, making it hard to breathe. Everything around you seemed to blur, the sound of the rain mingling with the racing of your heartbeat. You couldn’t tell whether it was the rain or his touch that had made your skin shiver.

Then, just as quickly as it had started, he withdrew his hand, the sudden absence of his touch making you stand up, as though snapping yourself from a trance.

Turning around you noticed your drenched clothes. Your eyes widened as both of you realized how your parents would have eventually reacted if they saw you entering the house like this.

“We should head back.” You said.

Heeseung nodded at you with a soft smile, amused by your alerted reaction. Feeling the adrenaline rushing through his body, he started running and you followed him. You both were breathless, maybe because of your race, or maybe because of what had happened minutes before.

Reaching your house and not wanting to get caught, you exchanged a look with Jungwon who saw you from the window of the kitchen. His eyes widening. “What the…Get inside quickly!” He opened the porch door and let you in.

“Y/n you’re lucky nobody’s here! Where were you all day?? Go wash up before your mom comes back!”

You quickly ran upstairs, the sound of your wet footsteps echoing through the hallway, your heart still racing from the close call. You had barely made it inside before your mother could catch you drenched, and a wave of relief washed over you. You shut the bathroom door behind you, leaning against it for a moment to catch your breath. Heeseung’s touch, his hesitant smile, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

It had been too much, too fast, but you couldn’t deny the rush it left behind. You splashed your face with cold water, hoping to clear your head. You didn’t understand him yet, not fully. But somehow, you had a feeling you were about to.

to be continued…

[sashi-ya]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝑺𝒂𝒌𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤa sweet valentines story 🌸 byakuya x f! reader

🌸synopsis sweet little scenario of this lonely man on a valentine's day night. 🍫 tw: nothing, a pretty sweet and soft scenario. The car described actually exists! the other day I took an Uber and it was a BYD Seal. It is an electric car and it has a big roof made completely of glass! so you can see everything around! 💗 wc: 2k

Here it comes, the most handsome man your eyes have ever seen, that night after night visits your store to buy the same things... eternally.

“No chocolates sir?” you ask; the man in front of you looks as tired as handsome. “Sorry?” he murmurs, looking at you with a pinch of attention he hasn’t given you until now. 

You giggle; while you beep the same sterile couple of groceries he often buys, the question comes in, almost inevitably. 

“I mean, it’s Valentines… you aren’t taking chocolates with you? a card? Something for your lover?” you inquire, deep inside with the sole purpose to know if such a loner is also lonely. 

His black long strands dance on top of his handsome face as he scoffs quietly. Attractive hands, slightly veiny, pale and probably soft, grab the groceries you were about to bag for him. 

“I don’t have a lover, nor do I care about these types of celebrations. But, if you insist…” he says, taking a sakura infused filled chocolate from the counter. “I’ll take this one” he continues. 

You smile, awkwardly. How can someone be that beautiful, that sophisticated and so unfriendly at the same time? 

You nod, adding the bonbon to his final ad. 

“Your total comes to $13.06” you inform, looking into the little screen of your register machine. You are sure you can’t look into his eyes a single minute more or you’ll be short of breath. 

The long-haired man swipes his card graciously; the beep of confirmation comes almost too fast. He is probably more than wealthy, never once he had had problems paying. 

“Have a good night Sir” you murmur, giving the little receipt your machine produced. “Thanks. Here” you see his palm opened, with the sakura jam filled chocolate resting on it. 

You blink, repeatedly. Is he giving you chocolate? 

“Uh… thank you” you whisper, taking it into your hands. The little you inside of your stomach seems to be jumping in pure excitement.

He shakes his head, and perhaps the hints of a smile garnish the commissure of his lips. The man simply turns around, and almost robotically, walks away. 

You can’t let him go; not now. At least you need to learn his name, something. 

“Sir! Wait!” you jump the counter -or maybe you almost trip on everything on your way- “Your name! what’s your name?” 

He turns around, almost dramatically, like in a Hallmark movie, turning your knees weak and your heart a pounding hammer. 

“Kuchiki Byakuya, happy… uh… valentines…” he answers, as if he wasn’t aware of the weight of those words. 

You giggle; nobody wished you happy valentines until almost midnight… and the one who did is as handsome as a god can be. 

You think for a couple seconds; what if this is your last shot? 

“Nice to meet you, Kuchiki Byakuya. I’m (Name). I’m closing in ten minutes; would you like to wait for me? I could retrieve the chocolate” you shot. 

Byakuya frowns in confusion; maybe you weren’t part of his plans during such a cold night. But, just for tonight, why not try something different? Perhaps he could finally do something else but visiting her every night at his workplace… maybe, he could finally watch the sweet face of the woman he finds interesting outside her job. 

It only takes to face his fear, to finally break the loneliness eternity. Do it… 

“I’ll wait” he says, straightforwardly, pointing at the black automobile parked right some meters from there. 

You smirk, trying to look cool. Truth is, you aren’t exactly sure what just has happened. Much less what are you gonna do once you hop into such an expensive car. 

In any case there isn’t time to think but to act. You hurry up inside, closing perhaps the register a little earlier than you should. Your boss will understand, he must.

You soon take your apron off, running to the little bathroom on the back of the store. There isn’t much you could do with an eyeliner and an almost toothless hairbrush. So, you decide to trust your natural beauty… after all, it was what made this man give you the chocolate. Right? 

You run to the door, calming yourself right before he could see you. And, acting too cool for yourself, you make sure to close the door of the store. 

“I’m ready!” you chime, standing by the car. 

Byakuya nods, he walks up to the passenger seat and opens the door for you. 

“Come on, you’ll freeze” he comments, showing you the unpolluted -never used- seat. 

You swallow, realizing you are about to hop on the car of a total stranger. You might know this man because every night he stops by to buy the same things, but you really know him? 

You take a deep breath and get inside, if I’m gonna die then let it be by the hands of this cutie…

The soft led lights in pink add to the car’s interior design a hint of playful eccentricity; the “new car” scent reaches your nose, and the comfortable leather of the seat engulfs your ass into the taste of a much more expensive lifestyle. 

Byakuya gets into his car, looking as majestic as he can. And you begin to suspect he does, no matter what he is doing; this man IS the definition of “majesties” 

“So, where do you wanna go?” he mutters, placing his right hand on the wheel -letting an expensive watch peak underneath his black suit-. 

“Ah. I’m a simple student that works during the nights to pay for his basic lifestyle… my suggestions won’t match yours; that’s for sure…”  you let him know, sure he doesn’t know about you. 

Byakuya sighs; tired, maybe, of his “rich people locations”. He thinks for a while, and soon the idea comes into his mind. 

“What about watching the moon?” he suggests; there is a pretty shine in his eyes once he mentions the moon. 

You smile, sweetly. Moon gazing sounds like the perfect plan to you. “I love the idea; I know a spot where he could watch the whole sky without the city lights around” 

Byakuya begins to drive; the car barely emits any sound, and it slides through the cold streets of your town, elegantly. He looks, as per usual, majestic while driving. The passing lights tint and kiss his handsome features and while in silence you enjoy the spectacle of such beauty. 

He is not a very talkative man, that’s for sure; but you aren’t mad at that. In fact, the feeling of peace this man brings with himself must be one of the best traits he has. 

“That one little road, follow the path and it will take you there” you break the silence with your indication; to reach the top of the hill there is a slightly abandoned road only those who know it very well can use. 

Byakuya nods, turning the wheel with utmost care to begin climbing the path. Some rocks move the car but there is nothing to worry about. Though the darkness of the forest around makes you think you are lucky -or not- for not being alone. 

Ten minutes pass; the very first signs of moonlight filter through the dense treetops, some strong stars do as well. 

“I’m in love with the rooftop of your car, Mr. Byakuya!” you chime, happy to discover an almost full rooftop made of glass. It is as if Byakuya had bought the car with the idea of stargazing often. 

“I found these types of designs the most suitable for me; I really enjoy looking at the moon” he confesses, with soft sprinkles of blush on the apples of his cheeks. 

You simply smile; of course, he is a man who enjoys looking at the moon… such a loner, almost like a wolf. Fierce, lonely but full of feelings he can’t express. Only through the moon, beautiful, peaceful, silent, shining bright in the middle of a dark night. 

“Of course you do…” you whisper, sure he hasn’t heard you saying so. 

But he did, and again the little smirk on the commissure of his lips appears. 

Soon, the road finds its end. The hill, the city ahead and its lights underneath. Nothing gets in between the dark sky, sprinkled in twinkling silver, showing the brightest of them all right in the middle. 

“Aaand we are here” you confirm, as the car stops right by the cliff.

“I’ve never been here, what a beautiful spot” Byakuya expresses, sincerely and amazed by how pretty and lonely the spot is. 

You smirk, cocky. A point for (Name)! Though the moment only lasts for a moment, as you are thrown back by the sudden pressing of a button. 

“Now you can enjoy it better” Byakuya lets you know he was the one moving the seats for them to lay as flat as possible. You are in what you could say a panoramic bed seat, panting a little because of the sudden scare. 

“I- yes. I told you twice now, but I’m in love with your car” you repeat, crossing your hands on your stomach, focusing your eyes into the sky above. 

“You want it so bad? I can give you one” he says, so natural, as if gifting a car wasn’t such a BIG deal. 

You turn your face to him, amazed. “So, you are rich, rich” you joke, even if that was a total truth. 

Byakuya nods; he is not the type to openly brag, but he most definitely isn’t ashamed to show how wealthy he is. 

“Is nothing, you show me this place, I must retrieve it some way” he says, sounding more than serious. 

You scoff, playfully. “You gave me chocolate, remember? That’s enough” you comment, fighting your inner self wanting to strangle you for not accepting the car. 

The long-haired man turns his head slightly to the side, maybe like a puppy when they don’t understand something. Maybe this is the first time someone has told him “no” to a free car, or maybe he has just found out he is indeed on a valentine’s date. 

You wait for his pale lips to say something, although you wouldn’t mind them to crash against yours. The anticipation grows stronger, why is he looking at you in complete silence? 

You blink a couple of times, trying to stop your body to slowly come closer to his side. 

“Do you really care about chocolate? Are those your favorites?” the demigod in front of you suddenly asks. 

You frown in confusion; why is he so… random? 

“Well… yes, anything infused with the subtle taste of sakura to be honest” you inform, unaware, completely lost. “Sakura flowers in general, to be even more specific” 

Byakuya gets comfortable, a lot more, throwing his body a little closer by the minute as you speak. 

“What do you like about Sakura, (Name)?” 

“For starters, they are the definition of "ephemeral". They are beautiful, delicate. When they finally bloom, their sole presence makes everything look magical, precious. But that's the whole thing, they don't last...”

"They don't last to remind us that beautiful moments are short" Byakuya finishes your sentence, with a pain in his heart that's too noticeable. He focuses his eyes back into the moon, he can’t look at you right now. His nose buries into his cream wool scarf. 

“You are right, however, they come back year after year. To wait and prepare for the spring gives meaning to their short appearance...” you chime, causing him to look at you from the side. 

Perhaps, those words meant more than what you tried to imply. At least for him. 

“Are you the spring, (Name)?” he suddenly asks, coming closer to you, this time so close you can even smell the fine perfume he is wearing. 

“Perhaps I’m the warm weather, and you are the cherry blossom buds waiting for it to bloom…” you whisper, closing your eyes to let him kiss you if that’s what he desires. 

“Mhj…” he nods, taking his sweet time to plant a delicate peck on your lips. A peck that turned into a kiss, and kisses that turned into a spring ~ 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Happy valentine’s day 💕

[cowboysandcigarettes]

JUNO

summary; watching dean work with some kids on a case leads you to an interesting realization.

warnings! established relationship, canon-typical violence, talk of pregnancy, smut!, praise kink, breeding kink (oops), soft sex, but it kinda unintentionally turned nasty, unprotected p in v (stay safe!)

CASES WITH KIDS WERE ALWAYS HARD. you had a soft spot for kids, especially little ones, even with their sticky fingers and clingy hands.

you had always thought about having kids, but once you became a hunter, you threw that idea out the window. hunting was no life to raise a kid in, god knows you only barely survived in your late teens.

when you met dean, you fell fast and you fell hard. it was difficult to resist his charms and good looks, but your case of lovesickness only grew as you and the elder winchester grew closer. he slowly opened up to you, allowing you to peel back the layers of toughness and defense that he had built up over the years, letting you see the real him.

that only made you fall more in love.

luckily, the feeling was mutual, for as soon as dean had set eyes on you, he was gone. he instantly knew you were the most beautiful thing he had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on, and as soon as you opened your pink lips to greet him─cussing him out for hijacking your hunt actually─he was completely done for.

neither of you had said anything for a long time, letting the feelings and tension build up over the years until it all came to a boiling point after a hunt almost gone wrong. you had barely had time to take a breath after almost dying before dean's roughened hands were on your face, grabbing you and crashing your lips to his.

you had been together ever since, and although the thought of having kids occasionally popped in your head, you figured dean would never want that. he was a hunter through and through, he could never leave the life, and if you were to have a kid, you could never raise them the way you and him had been raised.

so you pushed those dreams deep down, happy to live your chaotic life with dean, content with just the two of you.

but then you ended up in oregon.

♡ ♡ ♡

the case was a pain in the ass, a couple of rogue vampires taking kids, 'training' them to become a part of their nest.

finding the bloodsuckers was easy enough, they had been holing up in some old farmhouse off the highway, posing as new townsfolk and greeting the neighbors to scout their next victims. it only took the boys and you a day to find the farmhouse and pile into the impala, rumbling off to save the day once again.

the three of you had charged in after a quick surveillance, machetes in hand and dead man's blood at the ready as you crept in, trying not to wake the vamps. unfortunately, they were still up and at 'em, and suddenly ambushed the three of you before you could even process it.

there was only two of them and three of you, but with their enhanced strength and skills, it was pretty much a fair fight. sam and you had been fighting off one of them, dean grappling with the other, when the situation had grown more complicated.

the fight managed to be pushed into one of the other backrooms of the farmhouse, which just happened to be where the vamps were holding the kids. you noticed first, telling sam and calling out to dean before swiftly turning back to your own fight.

"i got 'em!" he calls back, kicking his vamp straight in the chest and sprinting over to where the three kids were tied up, tears streaking down their dirt covered faces.

you manage to get the jump on your own opponent, knocking the monster down. movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention, and you look up to see the vamp dean had been fighting pushing himself up from the ground, fangs bared and snarling at dean, whose back was turned as he untied the kids.

"hey, ugly!" you call, a quick nod from sam assuring you that he had the other creature handled. the one snarling at dean turned in your direction, pausing for a moment before his lips curled again, baring his rows of sharp, deadly teeth at you. you just gripped your machete tighter, bracing yourself in a fighting position. "come and get it."

the creature hissed and charged at you, but you were one step ahead. you noted the flimsy floorboard in front of you and you waited until he was a few steps away before raising your machete over your head, bringing it down hard on the shaky board.

the impact of the blade further destabilized the wood, and as you stepped back, the vamp stepped on that floorboard, his leg crashing through, leaving him stuck. he cried out and growled, hissing and flailing his hands around, trying to reach for you, but before he could even call out to his buddy, you raised your machete again, swinging it around and cutting the bloodsucker's head clean off.

the creature's skull thudded against the wood as it fell, and you stood there for a moment, catching your breath before you lifted your head, trying to find sam. a proud grin spreads across your face as you see him standing at the foot of the other vamp, it's head cut off just like the other one. he meets your gaze, and you both turn to head towards the exit, cleaning off your machetes on some nearby hay bales.

you walk behind sam to the impala, pleased to have come out of the farmhouse with minimal blood staining your skin and clothes. you hear dean's voice before you see him, and as you round the car to greet him, you cut yourself off as you take in the scene in front of you.

the three children are leaning against the door of the imapala, their heads barely reaching the bottom of the window, faces dirt stained and tear streaked. the sight would break your heart if you weren't so distracted by dean, who was crouching in front of them, an easy, comforting smile on his lips as he spoke to them softly.

"see? i told you we'd get 'em for you," he tells them, and the gentle tone of his voice makes you melt a little. "you guys were so brave, doin' exactly as i said and helping each other get out. you guys are real superheroes."

the little boy in the middle, the youngest of the three, looks at dean with wide eyes, still glistening with tears, but there's no more trace of sadness other than the tear tracks on his dusty cheeks. "like batman?" he asks, his small voice slightly wobbly.

dean grins wider at that, and you can practically see the sparks in his eyes as he nods at the little boy. "hell yeah, exactly like batman," he assured the boy. "he'd be so proud of how brave you were, all of you. i mean seriously, i was so scared, but you guys were totally badass."

all three of the children's faces lit up at that, the two girls on either side of the little boy looking at each other and giggling softly before looking back at dean.

he pretended to be confused, cocking his head and looking between the two girls. "what's so funny?" he asks, his lips twitching as he fights off a smile.

"you said a bad word," the girl on the left says, giggling at dean's face.

dean pretends to be offended, quipping something back at the girl to make all three of them laugh again, but you don't hear what, because suddenly you're picturing doing that with another kid.

your kid.

images flash through your head of dean, a little girl in his arms, a sweet smile on his lips as he rocks her gently. dean and a boy with his eyes and your hair standing side by side as he teaches him how to fix up the impala. you and dean side by side as you watch the milestones of your child's life, the look in dean's eyes as he holds them for the first time.

you bite your lip as you watch him with the kids, your heart warming in your chest. but the heat doesn't stop there, it travels through your chest, pooling quickly in your core as you suddenly picture yourself pregnant, dean's hands on your stomach, your sensitive breasts, hips and all over as he takes care of you.

the movement of dean standing up snaps you out of your fantasy, and with a soft smile, you help him and sam load the kids into the impala, offering to sit with them in the back, dean driving and sam in the passenger seat.

the drive back into town wasn't short, but you honestly were content to sit in the car for a couple hours as the kids eagerly conversed with you. they were smart, and you were surprised at their range of vocabulary as they told you about themselves.

you learned that the two girls were sisters, maia and ruby, that they were six and eight, and had a cat named max that they loved to death. the little boy's name was logan, and he didn't talk as much, oddly staying quiet as the girls chatted away at you, but once they turned into talking amongst themselves, he started telling you about all of his favorite superheroes.

eventually, exhaustion dragged the poor kids under, maia and ruby curling into each other, your heart warming when you felt the weight of logan's body leaning into yours. you let him lean against you, gently lifting your arm and resting it over his shoulder, holding him to you.

not so long into his slumber however, logan began to squirm against you, catching your attention as a small, heartbreaking cry left his lips. the poor boy was having a nightmare.

gently, you gripped his shoulders, squeezing lightly as you tried to wake him up. "hey, shh, hey, logan it's okay," you whisper, your heart clenching as another soft cry leaves his lips.

dean's eyes snap to you in the rear view mirror, the cry breaking his concentration on the road. "he okay?"

"he's having a nightmare," you say, meeting dean's eyes for a second, before a pained gasp draws your attention back to the boy next to you. his eyes snap open, brimming with tears as they meet yours, his trembling lips parted like he's trying to say something, but nothing comes out. "hey, hey, buddy, it's okay, you're okay."

you're shocked when he suddenly surges forward, crashing into you with a sniffle. as soon as he does though, your instincts kick in, your arms wrapping tightly around him, one hand cupping the back of his head to you as you shush him softly.

"shh, s'alright honey, you're safe, you're okay," you whisper, tilting your head down to press a kiss to the top of his head, continuing to murmur soft reassurances into his slightly matted hair.

what you didn't see was dean watching you in the rear view mirror. his eyes stayed glued on you and the little boy until he absolutely had to look back at the road, doing so just long enough that he didn't crash, then his gaze returned to you.

something about seeing you with the kids, the way you interacted with and entertained them the whole ride, and especially now, watching you hold and care for this little boy you didn't even know, it did something to him. it started with a pull in his chest, squeezing at his heart, but it moved lower and lower, sparking a heat in his stomach as images flashed in his mind.

you, barefoot and your soft stomach swollen as you grew his child inside of you. you, holding his child in your arms, just like you're doing to little logan right now. a life out of hunting, the life he's always secretly dreamed of, white picket fence and all. dean thinks about how you'd feel, the way your body would change, how he'd be able to mold it with his hands, how sensitive you'd be as he drags his fingers over your skin, up to your chest, making you moan his name.

he's abruptly brought out of his thoughts as a soft melody reaches his ears. he lifts his eyes to the mirror again, and he swears if he was standing up, he would've swooned.

you've got the little boy cradled to your chest, one of your hands cupping the back of his head to hold him to you as you rock gently, your lips pressed to his head, but he can still hear your soft voice.

singing.

dean had never heard you sing before, but he decided then and there that screw his pride, he was gonna ask you to sing for him.

later, after maia and ruby had been dropped off, not going before giving dean a crushing hug, the impala rumbled over to the other side of town to logan's house.

you hoisted the sleeping boy higher in your arms, holding him securely against your chest and covering the back of his head as you step out of the impala, nodding to sam and dean in silent assurance before walking up to the small house.

dean just watched you through the window, his eyes glued to you as you knocked on the door, careful not to wake logan. his anxious tapping of the steering wheel slows to a stop, a contrast to the beat of his heart, which rapidly speeds up as the front door opens, his eyes glued to you as the hysterical parents graciously thank you. his gaze never leaves you, eyes zeroed in on you as you hand over the sleeping boy, his racing heart swelling as you smile at them, leaning down to press one last kiss to the sleeping boy's head before bidding them goodbye.

sam clears his throat next to him, snapping dean out of his daze as you turn to head back to where they wait in the impala. dean tears his eyes from you to glare at sam, who has a knowing smirk on his face.

"what?" dean snaps, a flush crawling up his neck at being caught staring at you.

"nothing," sam replies, shrugging nonchalantly, but the smirk never leaves his face. "just never figured you were the type."

"type?" dean asks, his brow furrowing in confusion. "type to what?"

sam opens his mouth to respond, but he doesn't get the chance to as you open the door of the impala, swiftly sliding into the backseat pausing at the looks on the brothers faces.

"am i interrupting something?" you ask, raising your eyebrows as you look between them.

the brothers share a look, doing their silent telepathy trick that you've never understood, but then dean is clearing his throat and starting the car, eyes focused through the window as he pulls out of the driveway. "nope, just ready to get back to the motel," he responds curtly, and you can sense there's more to it, but you don't pry.

the ride back to the motel is silent except for the soft hum of the radio in the background, but you don't mind. all you can focus on anyways if getting dean alone in your motel room.

when you finally do arrive, you practically drag him out of the car, ignoring sam's roll of his eyes as you hastily unlock the motel room, stumbling in with more force then necessary and closing it behind you.

"what's the rush?" dean questions, the signature winchester smirk on his lips as he shrugs off his jacket and flannel, tossing them onto a nearby chair. "didn't know you got hot and bothered over killin' vamps."

you normally would respond with a roll of your eyes, quipping something back at him, but right now you're too focused the way his plain black t shirt is stretched over his chest, his biceps practically bulging in the sleeves making you almost salivate. you bite your lip as your eyes rake over him, lingering on his arms as the images of him gently cradling your child creep back into your head, making a familiar heat curl in your stomach.

he notices the lack of response, taking a step closer to you, ducking his head slightly to try and meet your gaze. "uh, hello? you gonna tell me what's got you all worked up or are you just gonna keep starin' at me like i'm a fresh piece o' pie?" he asks, snapping you out of your daze, your eyes flicking up to meet his.

your face heats up, a flush painting your cheeks as you avert your gaze sheepishly, slightly embarrassed at the thoughts running through your head.

"s'nothing," you mumble, dropping your eyes to your feet, suddenly finding the floor very interesting.

dean tuts at you, stepping closer, close enough that the tips of his boots come into view where your eyes are stuck on the ground. "ain't nothin' if it's got you flustered like this, sweetheart," he drawls, lifting a hand to your chin, cupping it and raising your head to meet his gaze. "so, i'll ask again. what's got my girl all worked up?"

you bite your lip again, your thighs involuntarily clenching together at the low timbre of his voice, the heat in your core starting to outweigh your pride. "i just..." you start, feeling the anxiety bubble up in your chest as you start to ramble. "you were really good with the kids today and i know its stupid, and i know you don't want kids but i saw you with them and it just really got me goin' for some reason and-"

"woah, woah," dean cuts you off, both of his hands moving to cup your cheeks, keeping your eyes focused on his, his thumbs stroking your cheeks gently like he could slow your rapid heartbeat through your skin. "slow down, baby, take a breath."

he just stares at you for a moment and you get the hint, taking in a slow breath, exhaling and letting some of the tension flow from your body. "good girl," he murmurs, tucking some of your hair behind your ear gently. "so, from what i heard, you are all worked up, thighs clenchin' and everything because of watchin' me with the kids?"

you don't answer with words, anxiety too tight in your throat as heat creeps up your neck, so you just nod your head in his hands.

"use your words, pretty girl," dean corrects, but there's something deeper in his voice, and you swear you can see his eyes darken as his grip on your face tightens just slightly.

"yes," you breathe out, swiping your tongue over your dry lips before pulling the bottom one between your teeth.

"oh, that's it, huh?" he asks, his voice lowering to a rumble that sends a shiver up your spine. "you wanna make me a daddy? let me fill you up and make you a mama?"

your eyes widen in surprise at his reaction, and you feel a flood of arousal drench your panties, making you clench your thighs together harder. the shock of his words wears off as he squeezes your cheeks a little tighter, urging you to answer him.

a strangled whine leaves your throat at the images his words create in your lust-hazed brain, and when you nod in his grip, a groan leaves his lips, his pupils dilating so much there's only a ring of shining evergreen around them.

"shit, babygirl, you have no idea what that does to me.." he growls, one of his hands slipping from your cheek to grip your hip tightly. he pulls you flush against him, and you can feel the heat of his body, along with the hardness that is pressed into your stomach, making your knees weak. "i was thinkin' the same about you all damn night long."

"you were?" you ask, your voice turning into more of a squeak when he dips his head down to nip at your neck.

"uh huh," dean mumbles into your skin, sucking on your pulse point so hard you swear stars flash behind your eyes. "just the way you interacted with the kids, when logan had that nightmare...all the sudden i just pictured you, all barefoot 'n round with my kid."

you whimper at the image, your eyes slipping shut as his hands drag down to the hem of your shirt, tugging on it lightly before pulling back enough to tear it over your head, tossing it who knows where before diving back down to btie at your neck.

"dean..." you moan breathlessly, back arching to give him more access as he trails his hands up to deftly unclip your bra, sliding the straps down your shoulders.

"that what you want?" he growls your name, the heat in his voice so intense you suddenly feel dizzy. "you want me to fill you up? fuck you so deep it sticks, then you can go around tellin' everyone it was me who knocked you up?"

you nod desperately, grinding your hips into him, groaning in frustration when you get no friction. "yes, god yes," you pant, gripping his shoulders to push him back from you enough to look him in the eyes. "please-"

that was all it took for the last of his resolve to break.

the next few moments were a blur of belt buckles and buttons as you both tugged at each others clothes, ripping them off and tossing them onto the floor of the now disheveled motel room. eventually, you both landed on the bed, now bare to each other, dean falling on top of you and immediately crashing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss.

you moan into his mouth, arching your back and wrapping your arms around his shoulders to dig your nails into his skin, bucking your hips up into him. the what between your thighs was too much now, an almost painful ache that only worsened when his hands slipped down to grab your grinding hips, pinning them firmly to the mattress.

"dean-" you start to whine when he pulls away from ravaging your mouth, but he cuts you off with another fierce kiss, stealing your breath away before he pulls back again, his eyes burning as they took you in.

"jesus christ," dean murmurs your name, his gaze raking down your flushed skin, lingering on your heaving chest before landing on the now sticky mess between your legs. "you've got no idea what you do to me, pretty girl."

"please dean," you whine, hips wiggling under his grip. when he doesn't acknowledge your plea, your hands drag up his shoulders to tightly tangle in the short strands of his hair, tugging until his eyes are on yours. "fuck me, please."

if possible, dean's eyes darken further, the jade that you love so much almost completely consumed by lust blown black, the sight making your thighs tighten around his hips.

"can't refuse my girl, now can i?" he pants, one of his hands leaving your hip to pump himself a few times before he lines himself up with your sopping entrance. your breath hitches as his leaking head notches at your hole, fingers digging into his scalp. it only seems to spur him on, a deep groan reverberating in his chest before he pushes into you, low moans leaving you both at the feeling. "fuck, sweetheart, you feel so fuckin' good."

your jaw goes slack, your eyes going hooded as he fills you to the brim, your body hyper aware of every ridge and vein as his cock settles in your clenching walls. you both stay still for a moment, getting used to the feel of each other, before the ache in your core starts to build again.

"move, dean, move, please," you whimper, opening your heavy eyes to meet his, wriggling your hips under him.

he groans, nodding before dropping his forehead to yours, his breath fanning over your lips. he's still not moving, and you open your mouth to beg him again, but before you can say a word, he pulls out almost all the way, gripping your hips tightly, then slams back into you, hard.

you cry out, your back arching as your hands move to grip his shoulders for dear life, your nails leaving red crescent shapes in their wake. he doesn't give you time to recover before he's doing it again, then again, and again, until he's building a steady pace that has your legs wrapping tightly around his waist, your toes curling in the air.

"oh fuck- dean-" you choke, words cut off as a particularly harsh thrust has his tip ramming into your cervix with so much force that your vision goes black for a second.

"shit, yeah..yeah that's it, pretty girl," dean grunts in response, the force of his thrusts causing his nose to bump yours, your foreheads still pressed together. "let me feel ya, squeeze this pretty pussy 'round me till she gushes all over my cock."

his filthy words only push you closer to the edge, your nails dragging down his back, making him groan. "fuck, fuck," you gasp as he rubs against that sweet, gummy spot inside you, your back arching as the coil in your stomach tightens.

"mhm, right there, baby?" he growls, his words almost a coo as he angles his hips to hit that sensitive spot with each thrust. "yeah, that's it right there. c'mon, you're so close, aren't ya, pretty girl?"

you nod, clenching your eyes shut as his thrusts punch broken whines and whimpers from you, leaving you breathless. a sharp slap to your thigh has your eyes flying open, a small yelp leaving you at the stinging contact.

"eyes on me, baby," he demands, and you oblige, your mouth hanging open as you continue to fly towards the edge. "atta girl, there you go. such a naughty fuckin' girl, gettin' wet 'cause all you wanted was my cock in you, fillin' you with my cum 'til it sticks. that's what you want, isn't it, baby? to be full of my cum, waiting 'til it sticks, then being full 'n round with my kid?"

all you can do is moan, the harsh movements of his hips and the way his tip his hitting the tip of your cervix perfectly succeeding in fucking you dumb.

"yeah, that's what i thought," dean mumbles, tilting his head to nip at your bottom lip, slipping one hand between your sweat slicked bodies to rub tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. "cum for me, baby, squeeze my cock 'til there's nothing left, ya know you want it. c'mon mama, give it to me."

the nickname is what pushes you over the edge with a scream that you think is his name, but you're too far gone to really know. your mind goes blank as your orgasm crashes over you in white hot pleasure, back arching and legs shaking.

somewhere in the back of your hazy mind, you hear dean groan your name, and you can feel his sticky release painting your insides, the warmth making your toes curl and legs shake as you come down.

when you start to regain some of your senses, dean's head is buried in your neck, his breath hot and heavy against your skin as he brings himself back down to earth. his rough hands run soothingly up and down your sides, sliding down to your trembling thighs.

after a moment, the room silent except for the both of yours heavy pants, dean speaks up, his voice slightly hoarse.

"goddamn, babygirl, 'f i knew me knockin' you up got you so turned on i would've brought it up a long time ago," he mutters into your neck, pulling a tired laugh from your lungs.

you sigh softly, head falling back against the bed as you try to bring your heartbeat down, his words ringing in your head. "thought you didn't want kids," you mumble in response, your hands stroking gently along his back, soothing the marks you made.

"i-" dean starts, but cuts himself off, pausing for a moment before he lifts his head from your sweaty skin to look down at you. one of his hands comes up, brushing some of your damp hair away from your eyes, his thumb lingering as he brushes the digit gently over your brow. "i didn't, not really. not until you."

the words steal the breath from your lungs again, your eyes widening slightly as you stare up at him. you search his expression for any sort of insincerity, but all you find is a look of love so intense you feel like he's tearing your heart straight from your chest. "not until me?" you ask, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

"not until you," he repeats, his words soft. he stares at you for a moment before sighing, tilting his head as he continue to admire you. "i never thought i would get a chance at the apple pie life, hell i didn't even really want to think about it, but then i met you, and everything changed."

his words, so heartfelt and so real, leave you speechless, your heart still pounding in your chest as you stared up at him in awe.

"you make me want all of those things, make me think i actually might deserve them," he continues, his thumb still brushing softly at your skin. "and i know we haven't...officially talked about it, but i love you, and if it really is somethin' you want, there's no one else i'd rather start a family with. if-if that's what you want, 'f course."

you don't even hesitate before you answer, a smile pulling at your lips. "yes," you breathe out, feeling your heart flutter in your chest. "there's no one i'd rather do it with."

a grin lights up dean's face, a look of boyish joy highlighting his features. without responding first, he grabs your face in his hands, cupping your cheeks and peppering kisses all over your heated face, making you giggle.

"you have no idea how damn happy that makes me," he mumbles between kisses, pressing on last, lingering kiss to your lips before dipping his head again, burrowing into your neck, his arms wrapping tightly around you. "you're gonna be the best mama."

you laugh softly, a warm feeling spreading in your chest as you wrap your arms around him in return. "we gotta get cleaned up first, then we'll continue this conversation," you mutter into his hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, but he just grumbles, burying his face further in your neck.

"later," he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your pulse point, content with just holding you in his arms. "just wanna stay here."

"okay," you whisper into his hair, relaxing into his hold. "we can stay here."

dean hums into your neck, and you can feel him smile against your skin, making your heart skip a beat in your chest. you knew it wasn't going to be easy, getting out of the life never was, hell just living as hunters wasn't easy, and raising a kid was gonna be harder. but you knew that you had dean, and in the end, that's all that mattered.

he was all that mattered.

bri's thoughts! bri write a position that isn't missionary challenge: fail. (i'm sorry i'm basic i crave intimacy) okay so here it is! finally actually finished something (the 50 unfinished works in my drafts are screaming at me rn) and now i'm gonna go to bed and dream about being on snl because it is my current obsession, especially after the 50th anniversary episode, which i recommend everybody watch! so i won't shut up about that but anyways, here this finally!

tags! @ultravi0lence14 @bluemerakis @titsout4jackles @soldiersgirl @dulcescorderitas @flormpus @star-yawnznn @Jaredpadonlyyyy @grangerously @dclover27 @chronic-fangirl-222 @stevesxwhore @deans-baby-momma @spnaquakingdom

[avonne-writes]

Finally finishing this bingo of mine for the @mota-collab Mota 1st Birthday event! It took me longer than expected due to personal issues, but I'm so glad I was able to finish it and share my appreciation for fanwork that I love.

east side of sorrow (young vets au) by @bcolfanfic - a heartbreaking and difficult topic explored with so much care and empathy in this fic. John's pain, as well as Gale's steadfast love for him, always bring tears to my eyes.

major john egan, at your service. by @johnbottoms - NSFW Buck x Bucky x Marge art (my OT3 😍). One of the hottest Mota drawings I've seen, oh my God. The pose, their bodies and expressions, everything about it is hot and perfectly fitting for the characters. I would love to see more art of these three!

Crosby art by @eternallytired17 - I think this is a really lovely portrait! It takes a special skill to draw realistic portraits, even just a few lines off and the person would look completely unrecognizable, but eternallytired17 pulled this off super well. I loved the eyes here in particular. 🩷

Only You Can Cool My Desire by @johnslittlespoon - super hot smut fic that can be appreciated as a standalone, but it's also a part of a long AU, the Tough And Sweet verse. I really enjoyed reading the dynamic between John and Gale, the temperature play and the description of the heatwave. I could feel the touch of summer! 🌞

before you say 'cut', wait five more seconds by @irregularcollapse - a beautiful comfort fic. (I already recced the podfic by @angelfruittree associated with it here) John and Gale as actors was a really entertaining premise. The characters were well-written and interesting, and Gale’s POV was a joy to read. I loved the way the UST built between John and Gale, and then how natural it felt when they finally got together. Their first kiss was my favourite part.

Bucky meets Gale by @onyxsboxes - Ame's sweet, lovely kitty Gale verse. 🥹 I love cats, so the premise of this one got me hooked from the get-go. This is the first part of the series, and it's very sweet and comforting. John's feeling down but his new feline friend comforts him. A nice read on a rainy or cold day.

John and Gale gifset by @bennydemarco - this is so beautiful and heartbreaking and healing and poetic at the same time! 😭 The text font looks great, the scenes were perfectly chosen for the quote, and of course the most brilliant part is how the colours fade, then come back, reflecting the pain of parting and the joy of reunion.

penny drop by @drylite - this made me feral! Thick Bucky is so hot in this fic, and the way Gale yearns for him and desires him makes the flames of this fic burn all the brighter. The tender ending was the cherry on top for me, there was so much feeling in it. An instant favourite of mine.

Curt art by @kylaym - when I saw the angel meme, I thought of Curt immediately 💖😇 This is such a sweet portrait of him, I really like it. The artist has a unique and nostalgic style, I recommend all their art. I love that they have so many drawings of side characters as well.

Thank you to all the creators who share their talent with us in our small fandom!

[sturnswrites]

night to remember - pt.2

Matt’s POV

Matt hadn't slept.

He'd tried—God, had he tried—but every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was you. The way you had looked at him before kissing him, like you were caught somewhere between a decision and a mistake. The way your lips had felt against his, warm and tentative, before he'd lost himself in it, pulling you closer because he couldn't do anything else.

And then the way you pulled away.

He groaned, running a hand down his face as he leaned against the window of his apartment, staring out at the dark city below. He should’ve known better. Should’ve let you go without taking that damn kiss.

Now, everything was uncertain.

The sharp vibration of his phone cut through the silence, flashing a familiar name across the screen—Chris.

Matt considered ignoring it. But Chris was one of the few people who knew him well enough to see through his bullshit, and Matt knew the second he picked up, there’d be no getting around what was on his mind.

Sighing, he answered. "Yeah?"

"You sound like shit." Chris’s voice was laced with amusement, but Matt wasn’t in the mood.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"Let me guess," Chris continued. "This has something to do with her?"

Matt clenched his jaw, saying nothing.

Chris sighed. "You kissed her, didn’t you?"

Matt exhaled sharply through his nose. "She kissed me first."

Chris laughed. "And let me guess—you definitely kissed her back."

Matt let his silence speak for itself.

"Jesus," Chris muttered. "Took you long enough."

Matt closed his eyes. He could already feel the headache forming. "Chris—"

"I mean it, man. You’ve been wrapped up in her since high school. Don’t think I didn’t notice. The way you looked at her, the way you’d follow her around at school like a damn guard dog—"

Matt gritted his teeth. "I wasn’t—"

"You were," Chris cut him off. "You always have been. And now, what? You’re just gonna pretend like nothing happened?"

Matt let out a bitter laugh. "You think it’s that simple? I work with her, Chris. Every day. If I fuck this up, I don’t just lose her—I lose her entirely. She won’t even want to be around me. I’d rather have her in my life as a coworker, as a friend, than not have her at all."

Chris was quiet for a long moment. Then, softer this time, he said, "But is that enough for you?"

Matt swallowed, his throat tightening.

He didn’t know.

No, that wasn’t true.

He did know.

It had never been enough. Not in high school, not now.

But losing you completely? That was worse than anything.

"Look," Chris said. "I know you’re afraid of pushing her away. But maybe—just maybe—she’s not running. Maybe she’s just as scared as you are."

Matt let the words settle in his chest, heavy and suffocating.

Scared.

Yeah. That, he understood.

Because he was fucking terrified.

Y/N POV

You hadn’t been able to focus on anything since the moment you walked into your apartment after that kiss.

You had kissed Matt. Your boss.

And he had definitely kissed you back.

Your mind was a mess, flipping between the present and the past, between the memory of his lips on yours and the years of history between you.

This was Matt. Your Matt. The boy who had made you feel safe when the world felt too big, the one who had always been steady even when you felt like you were falling apart.

And now? Now he was your boss. The man you worked with every single day. The man you had spent years convincing yourself was just a friend—and failing miserably.

You groaned, flopping back against your couch.

This was a disaster.

You would have to see him Monday morning. Walk into his office, act like nothing had happened, pretend you hadn’t spent all night replaying that kiss over and over in your mind.

You should have been worried about how this would affect work. But the truth was… that wasn’t what terrified you the most.

What scared you was the part of you that didn’t want to pretend.

Because you remembered how you felt back in high school, sneaking kisses between bookshelves and stolen glances in class. You remembered the way he had always pulled you closer, always watched you like you were the only thing in the room that mattered.

And last night? He had looked at you the same way.

You exhaled shakily.

You needed to talk to him.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you grabbed your phone, opening your uber app. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for only a second before typing in the address you knew by heart.

Matt’s apartment.

Matt’s POV

The knock on his door startled him.

Matt had spent the last two hours pacing his apartment, trying—and failing—to keep himself from drowning in his own thoughts.

No one ever knocked this late.

His heart was already pounding when he pulled open the door.

And there you were.

You looked up at him, wide-eyed and uncertain, your arms wrapped around yourself like you weren't sure if you wanted to run or step inside.

Matt swallowed hard. "You shouldn’t be here." His voice was gruff, but he didn’t move to close the door.

"I know," you said softly. "But I didn’t know where else to go."

Fuck.

Matt’s fingers twitched at his sides. He wanted to pull you inside, to pull you closer, to erase the hesitation in your voice and replace it with something certain, something his.

Instead, he forced himself to grip the edge of the doorframe, his only anchor. "If you came here to tell me that what happened was a mistake—"

"It wasn’t," you interrupted, voice barely above a whisper.

Matt froze.

You exhaled, staring down at the floor before lifting her gaze back to his. "But I don’t know what to do with it, Matt."

Neither did he.

For the first time in years, Matt didn’t have a plan. Didn’t have a way to protect himself, or her, from the inevitable fallout of whatever this was between them.

But fuck, he wanted to try.

Slowly, Matt stepped aside, his chest tight with anticipation. "Come in."

You hesitated for only a second before stepping over the threshold.

And as he shut the door behind you, he knew—whatever happened next, there was no turning back now.

-----------------------------

[horoscope1078]

:)

Gavi had no idea how he kept ending up in this situation. For the third week in a row, he was in the passenger seat of his own car, gripping the seatbelt like it was the only thing keeping him alive, while you sat in the driver’s seat, looking way too confident for someone who had nearly killed him twice.

“I don’t know why I agreed to this again.” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

You gave him a teasing smile. “Because deep down, you love spending time with me.”

Gavi scoffed. “I love having functioning organs. Which you put in danger every time you step on the gas.”

“Oh, please” you rolled your eyes. “Last week, I barely made any mistakes.”

“You almost merged into a truck.”

“Details” you said, waving a hand dismissively.

Gavi exhaled sharply and rubbed his temples. “Alright, let’s just start. No unnecessary buttons, no reckless speeding, and for the love of everything holy, no last-minute braking.”

You saluted dramatically. “Yes, sir!”

He groaned. “I already regret this.”

But despite his usual complaints, you actually started the lesson off pretty well. Your turns were smoother, you were checking your blind spots properly after Gavi practically drilled it into your brain, and you hadn’t pressed any random buttons yet.

Gavi found himself nodding. “Ok, I’ll admit… this isn’t completely terrible.”

You gasped. “Is that a compliment?”

“It’s an observation.” he corrected.

“A positive observation.” you grinned. “That means I’m getting better.”

“Let’s not get carried away-”

Just as he was about to finish his sentence, you sped up slightly to change lanes.

“AY, STOP ACCELERATING INTO THE LANE!” Gavi practically shrieked.

“I have to speed up to merge, Pablo.” you said innocently.

“Not like you’re entering a f1 race!” he barked. “Slow down before I have a heart attack!”

You giggled but obeyed, gently easing into the lane.

Gavi released a deep breath. “I swear, my future kids are gonna ask me why I have gray hair at 22, and it’ll be your fault.”

You smirked. “Oh? Future kids? Interesting.”

Gavi froze.

“THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!”

You just hummed in amusement and kept driving.

After a while, you reached a quieter street, and Gavi sighed in relief. “Ok, let’s practice parking again.”

You pulled into a spot, this time perfectly.

He blinked. “Wait… that was actually-”

“Perfect?” you smirked.

Gavi hesitated, then muttered, “Not… terrible.”

You gasped dramatically. “Oh my God. Was that another compliment? Two in one day?”

“Don’t get used to it.” he grumbled.

You turned off the engine and leaned back against the seat, stretching with a satisfied sigh. “Y'know, you could just admit that I’m getting good at this.”

Gavi folded his arms. “I could. But I won’t.”

You rolled your eyes before turning to face him with a teasing smile. “Be honest, Pablito. You’re impressed.”

“I am surprised, not impressed” he said stubbornly.

You leaned in slightly, raising an eyebrow. “So, you’re saying you expected me to fail?”

“I... uh...” Gavi suddenly forgot how to speak. Because you were too close again. And he could smell your perfume, soft, sweet, and completely distracting. And your lips were slightly parted, like you were waiting for something. And his brain was melting.

You smirked, clearly noticing his internal struggle. “What’s wrong, Pablo? Cat got your tongue?”

Gavi swallowed hard, forcing himself to focus. “I... I just...”

You tilted your head playfully. “Yes?”

And that was it.

He had survived three weeks of your teasing, three weeks of almost confessing, three weeks of convincing himself he was just helping a friend. But now? Sitting in the car, with your eyes locked onto his and your lips so close? Yea. He was done pretending.

Gavi exhaled sharply, running a hand through his messy hair. “I like you, ok?”

You blinked.

“Wait, what?”

Gavi groaned, leaning his head back against the seat. “I like you. A lot. I don’t know how else to say it.”

A slow smile spread across your face. “Well, well, well” you hummed. “Took you long enough.”

Gavi sat up, frowning. “Wait... you knew?”

You laughed. “Pablo, you turn red every time I tease you. It’s adorable.”

Gavi groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Ok, fine, maybe I don’t...” he muttered.

You leaned closer, voice softer. “So, what do we do now?”

Gavi slowly lowered his hands, finally meeting your gaze. His heart was pounding, but for once, he wasn’t freaking out about it.

“Let me take you on a drive next time.” he murmured. “Somewhere nice. No stress, no yelling.”

You smiled. “Like a date?”

His ears burned. “Maybe.”

You giggled and reached out, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “Ok, but only if you promise not to lecture me the whole time.”

Gavi scoffed. “No guarantees.”

You laughed and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

Gavi froze. His entire body locked up, his heart stuttered, and his face turned a deep shade of red.

You pulled back, grinning. “You’re blushing so much right now.”

“I AM NOT!” he protested.

You giggled. “You totally are.”

Gavi groaned, shaking his head. “I regret confessing.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Fine. Maybe I don’t.”

You grinned and started the engine again. “Alright, Coach Gavi, where to next?”

Gavi smirked, his confidence slowly returning.

“I think we’re done driving for today.” he said, turning to you with a newfound boldness. “Now, let’s do something fun.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what do you have in mind?”

Gavi grinned.

“You’ll see.”

[theoi-crow]

I'm sorry if this question seems strange, but what do you do if you feel like you've been abandoned by the divine? Not only can I barely feel their presence in my life despite talking and praying to them, but I'm about to enter a very difficult chapter in my life so I feel like they're abandoning me when I need them the most.

I'm getting jaw joint replacement surgery in April and my surgeon told me that it will cause severe nerve and muscle damage in my face, and that I'll lose most of the feeling and movement in my entire face and neck. It's a surgery that will change my entire life moving forward and I feel like crying because I can't feel the presence of the Theoi or any other Gods, despite needing them the most right now.

I've heard that the gods never truly abandon us, but what do we do when we still can't feel them even after crying out? What am I supposed to do right now? I apologize for the vent, but I really need some guidance rn and I love and admire your blog, so I hope it's okay to ask you this. Thank you

I want to start this very important ask by first saying that I think the gods are still with you because I got this very urgent feeling to answer this question and the energy felt like it was coming from them so they were helping me gather the scientific research needed to answer why it's hard to sense them right now (which took me a few days longer to complete than I had previously anticipated). I had to go through a similar surgery with the same possible outcome a couple of years ago and the wait leading up to it was one of the hardest moments of my life so I can sympathize with how difficult this situation is for you right now.

The answer to this ask is very long because I wanted to use scientific research to thoroughly explain why it feels like the gods have abandoned you and have added things that could help sense them again:

Why is it hard to sense the gods right now?

There are times when I can't hear the gods at all and it happens when I'm very upset and need them the most. This is a very common experience for worshippers who are going through a crisis or when they're in a situation that causes their stress levels to get higher than usual.

There's even a scientific explanation for that:

According to Harvard research: Stress causes the amygdala to take over because it switches to survival mode and your amygdala governs the survival part of your brain. At the same time it reduces the energy sent to your brain's memory and other centers that help with cognitive function. Dr. Ressler says, "...the brain is shunting its resources because it's in survival mode..." The brain pumps us with cortisol (the stress hormone) and adrenaline to trigger our fight or flight response because it thinks we're being chased by an apex predator even though we no longer have to worry about predators like saber-toothed tigers and other fauna that once hunted us, but our bodies still respond by pumping us with chemicals needed to run away because we were hunter-gatherers for 1.8 million years (LINK) and only started engaging in agriculture and complex communities beyond family like villages and towns more recently so our brains and bodies are wired to react to stress as if we were still hunter-gatherers. The reason why I'm mentioning all of this is because when we have high levels of stress:

It's hard to sense the gods because the usual cognitive functions we're used to sensing them with are being impacted by the amygdala.

High levels of stress caused by situations that trigger the amygdala can change how your brain functions by changing your brain waves. In this situation the amygdala increases the beta waves (LINK). Neuroscience research studies brain waves based on these five categories: (LINK)

According to research the beta waves have three sections:

High Beta waves (18-40 Hz) - Are the ones that get affected by the amygdala because the brain only cares about survival when it thinks you are being chased by a wild predator which is different from the slower frequencies of ALPHA and THETA waves which help you better connect with the gods since ALPHA waves are reflective and THETA waves help you connect with your intuition (LINK) and both help you feel more spiritually connected (LINK).

How to change your brain waves and reconnect with the gods:

I have a really hard time hearing the gods when I'm in the middle of a crisis or my stress levels are very high so I often use different forms of meditation to bring my high Beta waves down to Alpha or Theta levels. Classic meditation has been proven to work in doing this (LINK) but since I have ADHD I have a hard time with that so I'm going to suggest other activities that go beyond the traditional form of meditation in case you have a condition that also keeps you from being able to meditate this way:

1) Deep breathing: According to the article talking about classic meditation that I linked to just a second ago, taking in deep breaths has been shown to change your brain patterns by boosting Alpha waves. I recommend taking 3-10 deep breaths, or however much you would prefer and ending it with "my gods are with me," either said out loud or in your head. Here's a little gif that can help guide you but please go slower if you need to or ignore it if it doesn't help.

2) Dancing or exercising: Even though we have gone beyond the hunter-gatherer lifestyle, our bodies are still specifically designed for a hunter-gatherer body so when the amygdala triggers your fight or flight response, it will not stop until it senses the danger has passed. Exercise/dancing fools the brain into thinking you are doing something about that predator (either running or fighting) which helps it finish the process a lot faster. After it's done it will lower you from your high Beta three waves to lower beta waves, this will make it easier for you to reach your Alpha and Theta waves and thus spiritually connect with the gods. I suggest making a playlist full of songs that remind you of your gods and exercise/dance to them or ones that get you moving even if it's just swaying.

3) Light stretches or light exercises that require deep breathing like Yoga, Tai Chi or others within this category: I often do Yoga because it helps me do the first two suggestions rolled into one. Movement is very important for the body to tell the amygdala you are physically doing something to get to safety (again, hunter-gatherer bodies require hunter-gatherer solutions). By doing light exercises and deep breathing you are releasing the tension triggered by your cortisol levels and simultaneously lowering your brain waves from beta to alpha or theta levels. Add positive affirmations about your connection to the gods ("my gods are with me" or something similar) and imagine them with you while you do this.

4) Listening to music: Earlier I suggested making a playlist of songs that remind you of your gods that you can dance to but just listening to the music will also help. I suggest only listening to songs you want to listen to because even if a song reminds you of a god but you don't like it, don't add it. Make sure the music moves your emotions even if the song is angry or painful, so long as you're feeling the song, it'll help move your beta waves to a more relaxing state and fool your brain into thinking you're doing something about that perceived predator.

5) Journaling: The god I have the hardest time hearing is Apollo so I sometimes use spiritual journaling to connect with him. Spiritual journaling is great because it helps you use different parts of the brain that may not be as affected by the amygdala. Plus you'll have a record of your conversations with the gods in case you need to refer to them for past advice or days when you can't hear them. The way spiritual journaling works is you allow the gods to write through you by following a few simple rules:

1) Write everything down, whatever is in your head in whatever form it's in, even if it's a positive or negative thought, it doesn't have to be fancy or poetic, it can even be crass or harsh but it needs to be typed or written. Don't worry about your spelling because that'll slow down your writing and the point is to get it all out and not overthink it. Writing it down uses a different part of your brain that can help you sense the gods better in case your usual methods aren't working.

2) Ask the gods questions and write down whatever comes to your head. Be specific about which god you are talking to, for example it might look like this: "Hey Apollo I need help with this thing, what is it? My mind won't shut up about that thing I said 3 years ago, breath with me, in 1, 2, 3, out, 1, 2, 3, again in 1, 2, 3, out, 1, 2, 3, better? Yeah, thanks." I colored Apollo's parts with the orange font for the sake of clarity but I'm writing what is coming to my mind as I talk to Apollo so on the paper it will be whatever color your pen or font is, don't worry about differentiating between who is talking until you re-read it later.

3) you can type or write it but be sure to use whichever method you are most comfortable doing fast because you don't want to have time to second guess yourself wondering if that was you or the gods. It's easy for doubt to happen in these situations. The problem with doubt is that it causes a disconnection since you are allowing the gods to write through you but your mind will try to question if you're just making it up. It's one of those "trust the process" situations that take time to get used to.

6) "What would my god do/say?" This is the most important question for worshippers who can't hear or sense their gods. Sometimes I do this with Apollo or Athena because I can't always hear them so I'd go "what would Apollo say right now? He'd probably tell me it's better to do my physical therapy right now or I'll regret it tomorrow because he's the god of medicine and cares about my health." Or I'll sometimes go, "if Athena were here, what would she do? As the goddess of strategy she would probably ask me if I thought about plans B and C in case plan A falls through." Sometimes you have to guess what your gods will say until you can hear them again. This works your memory by helping you recall information you learned about the gods and/or past experiences you've had with them and eventually you will have these gut feelings about what the gods would say or do as if it's the gods themselves telling you.

7) Every time you think of your gods, assume your gods triggered that thought: In my Native American culture, we believe that when you suddenly think of an ancestor (or a family member who recently died) it means they are hugging you from the spirit world, likewise, whenever I suddenly think of the gods I assume they are triggering that thought and sending me messages, for example I'll suddenly think to myself "I should probably drink some water," and get a sudden image of Apollo so to me Apollo is the one who is telling me to drink water.

8) Be in Nature: Unlike the religious buildings we see today, the temples of the gods were not designed to be places of worship for humans but places for humans to store whatever gifts they gave them because the ancient Greeks believed nature was where the gods were worshipped, especially mountains that required effort for humans to reach or places that took your breath away. That being said, the gods I turn to when I can't connect with mine are Helios, Selene and Gaia because these are the gods I can immediately see and touch. Gaia is all around you, Helios will blind you if you stare at him for too long and Selene will keep whatever secret you tell her while you're admiring her moon form. Likewise, your gods also have nature aspects or concepts they embody like Aphrodite being the concept of love or Athena being wisdom. You can be with your gods by engaging with the realms and concepts they rule over or embody.

9) Arts and Crafts with your gods: While drawing or crafting whatever activity relaxes you, have an honest conversation with your gods and use the "what would the gods do/say" method to assume what they'll say. Play relaxing or inspiring music in the background for a more enjoyable experience.

10) Hug your gods or Cry on your gods: Sometimes crying on the lap of your god or hugging a pillow/stuffed animal while imagining you are hugging your god might help you feel both better and better connected. I wrote posts on how to cry on a god here and how to hug a god here.

11) Classic Meditation: It's been proven to work (LINK) but the act of meditating in this form doesn't always work for everyone so I added it later but still wanted to include it in case it'll work for you or you wish to try it.

12) Prayer: Prayer works like meditation in that it can also bring your beta three waves to alpha and theta levels but my disclaimer is that you have to feel the prayer move you. As someone who grew up Catholic I can pray in my sleep without knowing what I'm saying by only going through the motions of praying without ever feeling the words because I've been told what to say since I was three when more complex words were just sounds to me and never understood what I was saying until I was 12 and had to write it down for Sunday school, so prayer is only at the bottom of this list because it never worked for me until I started making up my own prayers. You also have the option of using Hymns as prayers but I'll write down how to make up a prayer in case you need it. To make up your own prayer you can use epithets that represent whatever specific aspect of the god you want to connect with if you're looking for a specific aspect. You can use epithets they already have in theoi.com or you can make up an epithet yourself in whatever language you are most connected to. You can praise the gods based on their hymns or past experiences you've had with them. You can make it as simple or as poetic as you'd like but you have to have a very honest and open heart when you are making up a prayer that will move you. You need to feel the words and make a prayer that will bring you peace and comfort. I sometimes sing Happy by Marina (LINK) or Venus by Sleeping at Last (LINK) to Aphrodite because they are songs that make me feel peaceful and feel like prayers so I wanted to add these to remind you that you can also use songs as prayers too since hymns were sometimes sung.

In conclusion:

Even if you can't sense the gods, they are with you, it's just that in our hectic lives we often forget we are still subject to the physical functions of the brain which controls what switches will be turned on or off and unfortunately it's hard to hear the gods when we are in our Beta three state because we're in a crisis and it has decided to turn off intuition and the ability to sense spiritual connections because those are in the Alpha and Theta levels but the amygdala puts us in beta three because its main priority is to either fight or outrun whatever apex predator it thinks is putting your life at risk. We may not remember a time when we had to fight or outrun wild predators but our bodies and brains still act as if we are and will limit the energy to other cognitive functions until it thinks we are safe. This is also why people who try to control others use fear tactics because it's easier to control someone in Beta three since their cognitive functions are disrupted and they will do anything for safety and security even if it means giving up their rights in exchange for it.

The brain makes it harder to sense the gods because it is prioritizing your safety and has turned everything else off in order to protect you. Gently thank it because it's only doing what it has evolved to do to guarantee your safety, and try any of the activities I listed above to help reconnect with your gods or feel free to try new ones so long as they will help turn your Beta Three waves into Alpha or Theta waves.

May your connection to the gods be easy, clear, and loud when they bring you peace.

[nocturnesanomaly]

Chapter 10: Prophet Girls

(Series Masterlist: Divine Violence) (Read on Ao3) (Inspired Playlist)

Series: The Divine Violence - chapter 10: Prophet girls

Wordcount: 5,7k

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Gn!Reader

TW: (View masterlist for full series tw and tags) - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Religious Trauma, PTSD, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Anxiety, Paranoia, Disturbing themes, themes of indoctrination, themes of eating disorders

Description: You go hunting with Simon in the morning, and get invited to dinner in the evening.

A/N: Well….this chapter took a long time - Holidays took the life out of me, but I'm making my come back to my writing! - This one hasn't been read by my lovely beta reader as she's sick, I hope you get better soon love! :,( - I've proofread best I could so, I hope you have all enjoyed the chapter regardless, it's one I've been looking forward to write!

[Prev chapter / Next Chapter]

"Relax your arm, you're holding onto it too tight" Simon gently adjusts your hold on the hunting rifle by your shoulders.

You grumble quietly, following his directions and exhaling a cloud of frosted breath. "I know what I'm doing," you shake his guiding touch off leaning further down into the snow and relaxing. There's no animal in sight yet, thank God. It's not like you'd hit it like this, all jittery.

At least that's how the suddenly very invasive man next to you so delicately put it just mere minutes ago.

You don't remember him being this pushy, or this confident really. A trait you don't appreciate so much when it comes to the correction of your apparent flaws. They only became flaws today for some reason.

"Are you sure? You seem really tense," his voice has been a constant stream of chatter in your ears this morning. When in the world did he stop being quiet again. "I mean it, you need to relax or you're going to miss it."

"I am relaxing!" you hiss out looking to where he's laying by your side.

His eyes narrow but he lets out an exhausted huff. "At least relax your trigger finger, you're going to scare away any of the animals before we even see any." He shakes his head.

Despite your protest you do as he asks and relax your body even more into the snow. A bit of it has managed to find the little exposed places of your jacket and make its way under, but you can barely feel it now.

"If you're going to be so picky, why did you even drag me out here," you ask a tad calmer resting your cheek against the cold polished side of the rifle. When he had woken you up that morning, it came as a surprise that he was only doing it to drag you out hunting at the ass crack of dawn.

You hadn't been at the liberty to decline.

"You can't keep staying in that room forever..." Simon says adjusting his position in the snow and keeping an eye on the moving bushes at the far end of your viewpoint. "You aren't coming out anymore, it's getting Price worried. Johnny too even if he won't say it."

You let out an annoyed huff. They shouldn't waste their energy worrying over something so trivial. You knew how to take care of yourself, even if it didn't look like it to them. What you were doing was most strategic.

"Great so it's a pity hunt."

"Don't do that," Simon grumbles. "We take care of our own," he gives you a pointed look when you make a noise of disapproval. "You're part of the team whether you like it or not Spider."

"Temporarily."

He shakes his head but otherwise makes no comment.

"Are you really that eager to get away from us?" there's an underlying meaning in his words, it’s less about an us, and more about a me.

You hadn't given it much thought, what you'd do once all of this is over. A part of you doesn't know if this can be done. They have a determination you lack. To truly see this through, you're going to need something that you still lack, you're going to have to dig a lot deeper than before, to resist, to complete the objective set before you.

"Where are you going when all this is over?" you ask.

"Wherever they send me next," he answers.

That's the part of his job that made sure you never got there. Sure, there were other certain factors. However, that point, the going from place to place with reckless abandon and a trust in your superiors that you'll never build again is what keeps you.

You move on your own terms, not someone else's. Not anymore.

"That doesn't get tiring?"

He goes quiet for a moment, leaning over to adjust where your gun is looking. He guides it towards the rustling bushes where he seems to have spotted something.

"There...a rabbit...keep an eye and take your shot when it's in view."

You let out a quiet steady breath as the white fur and pink nose sniffs out of one of the nearby bushes. It's cautious of danger, sniffing at the snow before taking a few uncertain steps out.

It's like it can feel it. That some quiet predator has it in its sights. The tense air around the clearing is almost suffocating, the expectation of the shot making your senses jittery.

"You get used to it."

It's all jumping around too much, and you start to crave the stability of the drug induced illusions.

Your finger itches on the trigger, your breath hitches. You look right into the red eyes of the rabbit, you see its terror. It's enticing, a rush like nothing else, that makes sparks fly off the synapses in your brain.

You pull the trigger with as much uncertainty as the scared rabbit.

You could never get used to it.

When you get back to the cabin, you find Gaz hauling a pine tree inside the house, right along with a mountain of snow. You can't imagine Price will be happy about that, but all he gives is a disappointed glare.

He directs Gaz around, moving the table a bit to the side to make space for the massive thing. You had never truly understood why there was even a need for a tree, even more so here. You didn't even have any decorations for the thing, it would quite literally just be a tree in the living room.

"Oh, you're back," Gaz perks up from behind the tree when he finally manages to get it into position. "Did you catch anything?"

Your empty hands should speak for itself. Simon closes the door behind you, kicking off the snow from his boots before looking quizzically over at the tree. "No," you answer curtly. "Not this time."

"Well, at least you're not being forced to carry a tree all the way from town," Gaz huffed with a smile on his lip.

"Zip it Gaz, you volunteered," Price grumbles. "Now put it a little more left."

"Do we really need a tree Cap'?" Simon passes you to stand next to the captain, observing from his viewpoint.

"It's festive."

You slip past the three of them, quiet steps placed towards your room. Simon might have brought you, to get you out of the room but that didn't mean you couldn't retreat as soon as you got back.

Halfway down the hallway, a wall in the form of Soap stops you from entering the room once again. You stop abruptly, startling yourself and him at the same time. "Joh-" you don't get to cut yourself off because he does it for you.

"Spider!" a smile spreads across his lips, and it startles you worse than bumping into him. "I was wondering when ye were coming back," he sounds endearingly excited. "Are ye ready for tonight?"

"Tonight?"

You take a step back, swallowing the thick of your spit back down. He's holding a notebook in his hands, a pencil case behind it. He's been drawing again then. Your wrists itch, curiosity winning its primary space in your brain as to what he could possibly be drawing now.

"Got invited by Mrs. Evans and her husband to dinner at their house tonight, ye and me." He shifts the weight between his legs, his eyes darting away from you and to the art on the walls. "Price agreed it would be good idea, get more intel on 'em."

"Of course they did," you say exasperated. "He's not wrong, if they're apart of anything major there'll be signs. Subtle but they'll be there."

He nods, falling quiet as he stands there. You look at him for a hot minute, expecting him to move but he doesn't. Your lips move to form the words you want to ask but nothing comes out. Your eyes go back to the items he's holding, and you gesture to it, trying to get him to say something, anything.

"Oh! ach that's right, I got ye something." He smiles and holds out the notebook for you to take. Hesitantly you take hold of it, giving him a questioning look. Your hands ghost over the edges before you flip it open.

It's empty, but the paper has quality and it's not just any notebook. He had bought you a sketchbook, one that's matching his own. A warmth blooms in your heart as you realize he remembered. Of all things you hadn't expected him to go out of his way and use his own money on you.

"John you...didn't have to..." you cringe a little when you catch your own slip up. He gives you a curious look. A tiny nod is the only signal you get. He's fine with it. It manages to relieve a weight in your chest, the one that's been bothering you about the balance between the two of you. Of what is too far. What is too much.

You gently take the sketch book out of his hands, and he places the little pencil case on top of it. "Nah don't mention it, thought ye might enjoy having something to do that isn’t just working." You feel your cheeks warm up a bit at the call out.

Your teeth latches onto your lower lip, your eyebrows furrowing along with it to create the difficult expression. He looks so excited about this gift. It sometimes feels a little like having a dog standing in front of you, his tail wagging excitedly at the mere possibility of you showing even a hint of approval.

"Just think of it as an early Christmas gift."

You can see why Simon has taken a liking to him. When you first meet him, he's an imposing figure. Even if he puts his good side forward, there's an underlying darkness. A thing you haven't been able to dig out of him yet, but you can see it in the way he moves, in the way he carries himself through social situations.

It's no doubt to you that every single one of the men living under this roof have a deadly touch. They've killed, and they'd kill again if they were ordered to it. It makes you wonder what their moral compass is like. How far is too far. Would they have done what you did, if they were in your position?

Would they understand.

Whatever Simon was put through it had been rough on him, enough to confine himself to a mask. John seemed understanding of him. He always seemed understanding of the things around him. He cared for things. He took care of things, even if that is in his own ways. You watch him love Simon like it's the easiest thing in the world. It's a quiet love, barred behind closed doors for safety but it's there. You see it, in their actions.

You wish you could be like that. Take responsibility in the same way. You've never loved normally, and part of you is sure you never will. Your love is an obsession. It's an all-consuming sickness, burrowing itself in the cavity of your chest. You are an all-consuming idea. You lick your tongue over bloodied ribs, you sink teeth into the heart. Your touch leaves marks and scrapes, that will hurt and destroy.

There's no part of you that should be loved in the way John loves Simon. Yet you crave that attention so viscerally, you'd do anything for it, to be the object of someone's eye once again.

"Thank you..." the words are quiet but it still makes him smile.

"Do show me what ye come up with, ah have a feeling inspiration will strike when it's just right" he speaks like he knows. He's so sure of himself, that you almost believe him just from that. He's the smart type, he'll figure it out.

He'll figure it out.

You shake your head. He won't unless you give him or any of the rest any reason to suspect anything. So far, you're just a weirdo, right?

"Yeah, I will," you try to give him an easy-going smile. Your thoughts should stay on the goal ahead. Whatever this dinner will bring, you have an objective now.

"Do we have to?" you turn away from their front door to face John again. You had gone along this far without complaint. The event of the evening hadn't seemed so daunting before you were standing Infront of the Evans family's lusciously decorated front door.

The first sign of their religion already came at the first glance. The giant cross put in the middle, surrounded by decorated plants and Christmas reds and greens.

"Yes, we do, and ye know that" he says with a soft chuckle, yet he remains still with you in front of the door.

"We could turn around now, Price doesn't have to know, there's a market in town we're just as likely to get information there than here." You aren't sure why exactly you're trying to convince him, when you're well aware you aren't getting out of this without the use of force. Which is definitely not ideal either.

He shakes his head, an amused smile flashing your way. "Price'll know, trust me he always somehow knows," he speaks from experience.

"It'll be over before ye know it, and we can always go to the market afterwards if ye'd like that," he offers as a middle ground. As if it was about the market in the first place.

You lean forward to press their doorbell with a sigh. If you were quick enough you could find the signs and leave. The shallow hope resides in your chest like an anchor to reality. You knew it wouldn't happen, not the way you wanted it to.

You take a step back when Mrs. Evans opens the door with half a squeal to make you wince. Her smile is so bright it borders something disturbing. "Oh my goodness, it's so good to see you two! Come in, come in!" she exclaims.

You step inside, giving her a soft smile and the friendliest greeting you can think of. Anything to make you come across as normal and not an anxious lunatic. She's wearing a beautiful floral print dress reaching down to her ankles, her hair done up in braids tucked into a bun.

Your hands twitch, muscle memory settling into your reflexes as you remember. The younger ones had loved that type of hair. You had been the best at doing it.

The signs will be subtle but they will be there

The Father's voice echo within your head as you step into the foyer.

I never abandon my children to the dark

The inside of their home is almost as obnoxious as their loud front door. Everything is Christmas times a hundred, but only the right kind. The one that praises God, the holy, the pure.

"Thank you for inviting us, Mrs. Evans" you give her your best crafted smile. She clasps her hands together and gives you one in return.

"Oh please, I always make it a point to acquaint myself with anyone new. So few come all the way out to our lovely little community, it's a blessing to see good new faces, and I told Frank you two make such a cute couple I couldn't resist inviting you over and getting to know you!"

You freeze at that. Couple? You hadn't said anything about that. Had John...you give him a look but he doesn't look back at you, his eyes focused on Mrs. Evans.

"And we're glad you did, we're both happy that the community is so welcoming, we were a bit worried at first," John doesn't correct her. Is he being serious right now. Did he really tell her that the two of you were together. What in the world was he thinking. What about Simon.

"Please, take off your shoes, settle in settle in! Make yourself at home," she encourages the both of you. There's little time to reflect on his choice, and even less to scold him about it. For now, you'll just have to play along, pretend as if you know what in the world she's talking about.

You discard your shoes and jacket in their rightful places, keep a respectful distance from most things in their foyer to avoid accidentally knocking over the copious number of trinkets they've got out on display.

"I hope you like roasted pork," she leads you into the living room where the warmth of the roaring fireplace encloses around you. "My husband made sure to get the best from the market this morning."

"It smells delicious, I'm sure you're a lovely cook" John stands closer to her. She giggles and waves him off with a bashful expression.

"Oh please, I'm just fine but you'll get a taste for yourself soon enough."

They've got a tree out, ornaments putting it in a white and golden light. Each one engraved with something. It's too small to read. Drawings around the room, done in crayon and childish paint, hung on the spaces on the walls.

John makes small talk with Mrs. Evans, some of relevance some not. It all becomes white noise as your eyes dart around the room. A pet bowl stands near the entrance to the kitchen, it's empty. Paintings of moments of importance from the scriptures are hung neatly on the walls. You recognize most of them, while a few are vaguer for your imagination.

"Excuse me," you try to be as polite as you can butting into their conversation. "Where's your bathroom?" you gesture awkwardly around the room with your hand.

"Oh! Just down the hall sweetie, the first door on your right" Mrs. Evans points back out towards the hallway you had gone through. You thank her, before retreating back out there. Away from the prying eyes of hers.

The hallway is almost worse than the living room. Decorations are splayed about, and it's probably the most visually interesting thing you've come across. Overstimulating almost. You come to a stop Infront the circular mirror, you ignore it in favour of directing your interest towards the display on the little table in front.

It's been decorated in many different colours, plants, pine, ornaments and Christmas cards. All of them coded in some way with the scriptures or religious practice that's been taught to them. Your hand traces over the little ornament, the words hollowing out inside your mind. Reactivating prayers that lay dormant.

'Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart - Proverbs 3:3'

You know words of prayer by heart. You've spent countless nights reciting them, practicing them, committing them to memory so you could receive a reward morning come.

And then you had spent countless nights crying them out in a prayer for help, for rescue. You had spent countless restless nights turning your throat raw, screaming to a god that never actually listened.

This home is oversaturated with them.

There's truth to be found in them, one you pretend to no longer care for. You walk further down the hallway, inspecting every ornament, every inscription. All the little signs that could distinguish this home from a loving religious household, to one that does the bidding of the collective.

There has to be signs. Tiny little things. Anything at all that can lead you towards the presence of The Father, of your home. He rarely goes anywhere without doing so, to lead his rightful children back to where they belong, no matter how far out they might have gone.

It was a lesson he taught you early on.

There'll always be a place for you in my arms.

The shadows still take his face, and use his voice. They still taunt you despite how much you try to fight it. You think they might not even stop if you were to finally give in to them.

You come to an open door. A child's bed room. It's clad in golds and pinks, blending together in the context of a princess design. The little kid is there too, her golden hair almost shining in the big lamp light above. A halo around her head. She's pure.

She would be so easily corruptible.

"Are you mommy's guest?" she doesn't seem nervous at all. "Oh! Do you wanna see my toys? Mommy says I can get more for Christmas!"

Let her be innocent. Please. Let her be free of it.

You walk closer wordlessly. An easy smile settles on your lips, exactly how you used to do with the young. "Yeah, those are some cool toys" you try to mimic her tone of excitement. "Are they new?"

You settle down onto your knees next to her. Her toys keep the same colours scheme as her room, except for a few baby blues and greens. She excitedly shows you her favourite.

You're careful not to touch her as she drags you through her collection of colourful ponies. She's too young. Let her be too young to know.

He starts young.

Let her be too young.

Your eyes search her body for scars, bruises, any mark at all but find nothing but the smooth skin you envied. "Do you go to church often little one?" you ask and settled down on the floor next to her in a more comfortable position.

"Mhm! It's a bit boring sometimes though, don't tell mommy I said that," she snickers and puts a finger over her mouth.

"Have you ever wanted more out of it?"

She shrugs barely interested in your words, clearly boring her about just as much as the lectures she would find within the church. You reach out, grab her arm with a force that gets her eyes to widen.

"Deus spes nostra," your eyes bore into hers searching for even the tiniest sign of recognition within her.

You spoke a tiny prayer within your mind, let her be innocent, let her be free.

"Deus lux mea est."

Your stomach sinks, your eyes searching for the source standing in the open doorway. She couldn't be much older than you had been. She had the same expression you would wear back then, masked by the anxiety swimming in your gut.

The family has two daughters.

The little one, uninterested in the religious practice being thrust upon her as she grows. She'll change her mind as she gets older, turn to the so-called light stained by the blood red sky above her.

And the older one.

He's raising a new angel.

It's the only thing that makes sense. A new angel to take the place you left hollow when you fled. He's starting from the bottom up, creating something better, something stronger. And by how she stares you down from across the table, it wouldn't be crazy to think she knows of you.

You can only pray she would keep her mouth shut. That she wouldn't alert your presence to anyone of importance. Or you could dispose of her. The plan formulates all too quickly in the back of your brain, how you'd do it, what you'd do with the corpse afterwards, the explanations of your absence to the team.

Depending on how deep in her training she is, you're unsure whether it's a fight you want to pick alone. She's so much younger than you, inexperienced but fresher without the pains of a weakened body.

"Love, could you pass me the salt?"

You freeze, your head whipping to John in surprise. Despite the agreed cover you hadn't expected him to pull out anything extra. Was that really needed? As if Mrs. Evans hadn't already fussed over the two of you enough.

"Yeah..." you pick up the salt and pass it to him. Your eyes leaving the new angel.

"Are the two of you settling in well?" Mrs. Evans speaks up clear startling her youngest. "I know the valley can be difficult to get accustomed to especially this time of year!"

She has a faux type of energy that rubs you the wrong way.

"We're settling in just fine, kind of you to worry" John responds with optimism. How does these people not rub him the wrong way, can't he see it? Or is he just that much better at masking it than you are. Likely it's the latter and it doesn't help your annoyance.

"Ah it's nothing, gotta look out for the young love in our community" her knife squeaks against her plate when she cuts a piece of meat. It hurts your ears. The table itself is clad in imperfect white frills, candles in the middle, surrounded by fruits, potatoes and meat galore.

"Isn't that right honey?" she elbows her husband in the arm. His eyes have been glued his plate since you took a seat. He's barely eaten a thing. When he doesn't answer her, she clears her throat and nudges him again.

"Mh..yeah."

She lets out an awkward little laugh, her uncomfortable stature satisfies something in you. John smiles unsure towards her as he takes another bite of his own food.

"Oh, darling you've barely eaten a thing? Do you feel ill?" Mrs. Evans directs her attention to you when she doesn't get the response she's looking for. You mentally curse out the man of the house for not taking up her conversation.

"No, I'm alright, just had a big lunch that's all" you give her your best attempt at a disarming smile. Let her buy it. Don't dig.

You pick up your fork and pick up the piece of meat you had cut for yourself. It doesn't go down easy. The heat burns your tongue, and the texture drags in your throat. It settles wrong in your stomach.

"It's such a good thing the two of you decided to come to church! The community is always so excited over newcomers, I'm sure you'll make lots of friends in due time." You have to give it to her, her excitement seems as genuine as it gets. Whatever lays beneath, she believes in it wholeheartedly.

"Yeah, we're happy to have found it so receptive. We have a lot to learn from a tight knit community like this, but I'm sure there's only good things to come. We've also been thinking about expanding our horizons, attend some things more than just the Sunday mass." John replies in an excited tone. He's good at mimicking the interest in their practice, but you suppose it's not entirely fabricated.

"Oh but of course! You absolutely need to come by Wednesday when the choir practices. My own two girls are apart of it, and they've got the most angelic little voices, do you not?" she glances towards them with hope in her eyes.

The little one smiles bright at you, nodding along rapidly to what her mother is telling. The elder remains quiet. "They both work so hard too! I mean you should have seen it when they first started, a bit uncoordinated but they sharpened up quickly. A few private lessons and it put them right on track with the others!"

She sounds proud.

Her happiness disgusts you.

The daughters are silent listening on to their mother singing their praises on a topic they'd clearly rather avoid. It's in their faces, even the younger one, the distaste, the compliance. The new angel still has her eyes on you, ever focused on your moves, your expressions, your reactions. She's too observant for your liking.

You make a mental note to ask Laswell for any and all information on this family, on her.

There'll be plenty of work to do once you go home from this. You doubt you'll get much sleep. You only hope your sleep deprived state won't cause you too much trouble, and that the 4 men living under the same room won't make too many comments. You got voices enough in your head to listen to.

The rest of the dinner is spent observing the family's dynamic, marking off mental notes of their reactions to one another. You've got down the mother’s devotion, the daughters forced contribution, the father’s detachment to the world around him as if nothing matters to him anymore.

He's been here

This place is filthy with his prints

He's planted the seeds and they've taken root deep within them

"Thank you for the dinner, Mrs. Evans. It was delicious."

"Oh, don't mention it Mr. Mctavish, it was my pleasure to host the two of you" she gushes as you move out the front door and back into the snowy town. John follows close behind, his hand holding tightly onto yours as if to keep you in check, so you don't go running off prematurely.

You guess he still doesn't fully trust you after your little stunt.

"We'll see you in church on Sunday! Stay safe now," Mrs. Evans waves you off and closes her front door with a prominent click.

You let out a deep sigh, finally being out of there. "You did good," John says and gives you a smile. His hand is still in yours, a warm weight you don't feel like letting go just yet. Luckily, he doesn't seem to want to either as he tugs on your arm to walk in tow.

You let him lead you, tugging your jacket further around yourself. "So are you not a fan of family dinners at all, or was that just as intense as it felt like back there," John says with a chuckle. You a crack a smile of your own. You could still feel your muscles tense state, at least you hadn't been completely alone in it.

"Would you believe me if I said both," there's amusement in your voice bordering a reciprocal chuckle. He looks to you with a fonder smile.

"Yeah."

His attention is taken off of you again when you hear the faint music down the street. Christmas carols, songs of joy. It seems to spark interest in him as he quickly changes course.

The closer you get the more extravagant the decorations around town seem to become. Fairy lights are hung from house to house, and across streets, becoming shimmering lights above you, like golden stars in the night sky to guide you to where you're meant to be.

"It's beautiful..." your voice is but a whisper, staring up at the marvel. A rough hand comes to graze against your jaw. The hand that isn't holding yours guide your eyes to the bigger display at the centre of the upcoming square, the giant tree in the middle, the band in front of it playing songs for a dancing crowd.

His hand squeezes yours, making you look down. His thumb rubs soothing motions over your skin, like it's meant to be there. Your eyes trail back up to his face, but he isn't watching you. No, that amused face is captivated by your surroundings. There's something unmistakably beautiful about him in this kind of lighting, and you count yourself blessed enough to be allowed to see it before your end.

Your teeth clench together as your mind drifts back to the dinner. The one question you want to ask lies on the tip of your tongue, and before you can stop yourself.

"John back there why did you make us a couple, we could've been anything to them you didn't have to-" you bite down on your tongue, looking away from him as his eyes come back to you.

"It was the first thing that came to mind, didn't think it would bother ye that much." John is quick to respond, his concern edging into his tone. You swallow uncomfortably, and the hand that lies in yours suddenly feels wrong, like rubbing your hand on a cheese grater.

"But you and Simon..."

"He doesn't mind."

Your brows furrow, because what does he mean he doesn't mind. He should mind. He should really, really mind.

"But-"

"Dance with me."

He comes to stand in front of you, blocking the view of the spectacle ahead and becoming the new one instead. Light shines around him like he was sent from the heavens, a beacon for you to follow. The workings within your mind are dangerous, the connections they start to make.

"What?"

"Dance with me." He's steadfast not taking no for an answer as he gently grabs your other hand and moulds you into the right position. He doesn't start right away, waits for your muscles to relax, for the surprise on your face to morph into something different.

Then he leads you, and you follow.

You haven't danced much in your life if at all, and it shows in your clumsy movements, in the way you look down at your feet as to not step on his. He doesn't say a word, not a single complaint is heard. He spins you around with a soft smile on his lip, hums along with the tune of the song in the back.

It takes you half the song but you start to grow more confident, your steps more bold, more assured. A smile cracks out on your own lips, and when he spins you around again you can't help the laughter that crackles from your throat, the tickling in your body.

"You don't have to worry so much you know," he whispers close to your ear, your back to his front.

"We've got you."

He spins you back around, guides your steps until you've successfully danced yourself over to the rest of the moving crowd. His hand finds a resting place on your waist, the other one aiding you to make sure you stay in place. Your steps become unsteady, trying to not bump into people but he doesn't let go. He doesn't let you fall.

You don't know what changed for you that day, but later on you've come to realize, the feelings within you have morphed into something else, and whether you liked it or not, they would continue down that path. It's too late to walk away.

Likes, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, love ya! <3

Taglist: @unlikelyaperson @ghostlythots @haipasa @woodlandgirl22-blog-blog @kaoyamamegami @ellabellabunny123 @chickennn-soupp @spicyspicyliving @lilynotdilly