#i just want to move through the world in peace

[latin5mamii]

5:42 am

genre: JudeBellingham x you; cute and fluff

summary: After a whole night of no-sleep, you decide to help your boyfriend forget about his overthinking for once.

author's note: Cute and fluffy! Didn't want to make it too depressing so i added a bit of humor; i know this is work is unexpected but i'm getting a lot of inspiration rn!

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ

The world is still asleep when Jude wakes, moving with the careful precision of someone practiced in not disturbing the peace. His hand reaches for his phone on the bedside table, and he shifts cautiously to sit up on the edge of the bed.

The room is dark save for the faint blue light creeping through the curtains, a soft haze that makes everything feel slower, quieter.

He doesn’t hear you stir behind him.

The mattress dips slightly as you roll over, and he freezes. For a second, he thinks you’ll fall back asleep, but your voice—soft and warm like the blankets tangled around you—breaks the silence.

"You're already up"

It’s not a question, and there’s no frustration in your tone—just a quiet understanding. Before every match, he could never sleep. He’d toss and turn, get up for water, but he could never settle—especially now, with so much to think about.

Jude glances over his shoulder, a little sheepish as he meets your sleepy gaze.

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmurs. His voice is a whisper, rough from the early hour.

“You didn’t.” You stretch slightly, the movement slow and lazy. “You never do.”

He smiles at that—small, almost imperceptible in the low light. You sit up halfway, leaning on your elbow as you watch him tug on a sweatshirt over his T-shirt.

“Don’t go just yet,” you say, voice still quiet but carrying a softness that stops him mid-motion. “Come back here for a minute; you have so much time left. ”

Jude doesn't hesitate even for a second as soon as he sees you—still cocooned in blankets, your hair messy and your eyes heavy-lidded but bright. It’s not a hard choice, not really.

He slips back into bed without a word, settling beside you. Your arm loops around his waist instinctively, and he leans into it, letting his head rest against yours.

The silence in the room is thick but comforting, punctuated only by the faint hum of the world outside—a car passing, the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. Jude’s breathing evens out as he melts into your embrace, the tension in his shoulders softening. You run your hand gently along his back, tracing patterns you don’t think about but that he seems to feel, leaning into each movement.

“You think too much,” you whisper, your voice barely audible but close enough that he hears it.

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, his arm drapes over you, pulling you closer. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you feel him exhale deeply, as if the weight of what you said has settled somewhere in his chest.

“I just want to get it right,” he murmurs, finally. The words are small but heavy, like they’ve been sitting on the tip of his tongue for days.

“You always do.”

The response is automatic, and you mean it—every syllable. You wish you could pull his thoughts away, fold it neatly into something manageable. But for now, all you can do is hold him.

Jude pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you. The dim light softens his features—his dark eyes are wide, thoughtful, his lips parted as if he’s about to say something but decides against it.

“You okay?” you ask, brushing a hand through his hair, which is still slightly messy from sleep.

Jude lingers in the embrace a moment longer, his face tucked against the curve of your neck, the warmth of your skin drawing out a softness he didn’t realize he needed. But when he finally shifts, there’s something lighter in his expression. He nudges his nose against your cheek, playful, and murmurs,

“You’ve turned me into a morning person, you know.”

You laugh, low and easy, your fingers pausing in his hair to tap lightly against the side of his head. “I don’t think you get to claim that title until you actually enjoy mornings, Jude.”

He pulls back enough to look at you, an exaggerated pout forming on his lips. “What if I just enjoy mornings with you?”

“That’s sweet,” you tease, your smile brightening the dim room. “But you still groan every time the alarm goes off, so I’m not sure it counts.”

“Details.” He grins, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead before sitting up. The bed shifts under his weight, and you watch as he stretches, the hem of his sweatshirt riding up slightly. The sight makes you laugh—something about the way his early-morning dishevelment feels so ordinary and yet so utterly him.

He glances over his shoulder at you, catching the amused tilt of your smile. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say, shaking your head, though the laughter still dances in your voice. “You’re just...cute like this.”

His ears turn a little pink, and he rubs the back of his neck, feigning nonchalance. “Yeah, yeah. Come on, let’s make some coffee before you embarrass me even more.”

“Embarrass you? Never,” you shoot back, but you’re already sitting up, tossing the blankets aside. The cool air hits your skin, and you shiver slightly, reaching for the oversized sweater draped over the chair beside the bed. Jude is already standing, holding a hand out to help you up.

The two of you move quietly even though you're alone in the house, the soft shuffle of your steps the only sound. Jude goes straight to the counter, pulling out the coffee beans and the grinder.

“You want tea, right?” he asks over his shoulder, already reaching for the kettle.

“Mm-hmm,” you hum, leaning against the counter and watching him. He moves with a kind of easy precision, his focus shifting between the coffee and the kettle like it’s a little morning ritual he’s perfected. You can’t help but smile—it’s a far cry from the nerves that had him tossing and turning earlier.

“What’s funny now?” he asks, catching your expression as he sets the kettle to boil.

“Just you,” you say, your voice light. “All serious about coffee like it’s a science.”

“It is a science,” he replies, mock-indignant. “And you’re lucky I’m good at it, or you’d be stuck drinking whatever shit they call coffee down the street.”

“Oh yeah?” you shoot back, barely suppressing a laugh. “Says the guy who puts honey in his coffee.

Jude shakes his head, chuckling as he stirs the honey into his mug. “Is it that bad?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You shrug, fighting back a grin. “I mean, I wouldn’t say bad. Just...no okay it's actually bad.”

Jude groans dramatically, hand over his heart as if your words wounded him. “Wow. First thing in the morning, and you’re already coming for me.”

After a moment, you set your mug down and glance at him. “What do you want for breakfast? Or are we just surviving on caffeine today?”

Jude’s lips curve into a small, thoughtful smile. “Surviving on caffeine sounds very me,” he admits. Then, after a beat, he straightens and adds, “But pancakes sound better.”

“Pancakes?” you say, arching a brow. “Aren't you the man who claims he doesn’t need breakfast?”

“I’m evolving,” he says, feigning a look of mock importance. “Also, I think we have chocolate chips in the pantry.”

You laugh, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately. “Chocolate chip pancakes at dawn? I really am impressed.”

He nudges your side playfully, grinning. “Come on, let’s do it. We’ll make them quick. I’ll even let you flip them.”

“Generous of you,” you tease, already moving toward the pantry.

The only sounds are the soft clatter of bowls and utensils as the two of you work together, gathering ingredients and mixing the batter. Jude insists he’s got the perfect pancake recipe memorized, but you end up adding a little extra milk to the bowl when he’s not looking, just to mess with him.

“What did you just do?” he asks, squinting at you suspiciously as you stir.

“Nothing,” you say innocently, biting back a grin. “Just making sure it’s not too thick.”

He narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t argue, instead grabbing a ladle and heating the pan. “Alright, let’s see how this goes.”

The first pancake comes out a little lopsided, and you burst into laughter as Jude flips it onto a plate with exaggerated precision.

“Hey,” he says, pointing the spatula at you, “it’s not about how it looks—it’s about how it tastes.”

“Sure, Chef Jude,” you reply, still laughing as you lean against the counter, watching him pour the next one.

The second pancake is better—golden brown and perfectly round—and by the time the stack is finished, the kitchen smells like warm batter and melted chocolate. Jude sets the plate on the table with a triumphant flourish, and you grab two forks, sliding into a chair beside him.

Jude nudges your foot under the table, catching your eye as he chews his first bite.

“Not bad, huh?” he says, grinning.

You smile back, warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the pancakes. “Not bad at all.”

You pause eating and carefully set the little fork down on your plate. Looking at him, you offer a gentle smile, hoping to ease the weight of the long night.

“You’re going to do great today. I just know it.”

He slowly reaches out, his fingers brushing your nose and then your cheek. After a moment, his hand settles softly on yours.

"I hope your predictions are right, then"

[elryuse]

Idol: An Yujin (IVE) Genre: Arranged Marriage, Mafia AU, Yandere (Kind of), Smut (If you want) Basically, the plot is about Y/N Angelo who is the son of the notorious and powerful Italian mafia of the Angelo Family and they go to Korea to send Y/N to study at a University to get a better view of the world. But then he encounters the popular girl... An Yujin she was a bully, gets what she wants and will do anything to get it.

Y/N tried to avoid her but she wouldn't stop then he thought how could things get worse? And of course, it does, one night, he would have a family dinner at a fancy restaurant and he was surprised to find An Yujin herself with her parents and Y/N's father would introduce them as the An Mafia family of Korea, the most powerful criminal organization in the country.

What terrified Y/N was that they agreed to an arranged marriage as a simple piece of paper of a contract wouldn't be legit enough to seal the deal with the two powerful families and Yujin would be delighted as she knew this would mean she could intervene in his private life as much as she wants and Y/N cannot escape as he must comply with the whole marriage and when they graduated from University, the wedding came.

During the honeymoon in Jeju island, it was just Yujin and Y/N but after time passed Y/N would soon get accustomed but would never break from her but Yujin wasn't one to back down from a challenge so she tries again and again even if it meant a lifetime. (As mentioned you can add Smut if you like and please don't feel pressured or rushed as I know I already submitted a request to you already)

THE UNWANTED ALLIANCE

YUJIN (IVE) X MALE READER

Y/N Angelo, the heir to the notorious Angelo Mafia, found himself in the bustling metropolis of Seoul, a stark contrast to the shadowy world he was accustomed to. His father, a man of unwavering power and influence, had sent him to Korea, a strategic move to broaden his horizons and provide a fresh perspective on the world.

However, Y/N's peaceful academic pursuit was soon disrupted by the formidable presence of An Yujin, the campus queen bee. Known for her sharp tongue and ruthless tactics, Yujin was a force to be reckoned with. She took an immediate interest in Y/N, her curiosity piqued by his enigmatic aura and aloof demeanor.

Y/N, accustomed to a life of solitude and discipline, was ill-prepared for Yujin's relentless pursuit. He tried to maintain his distance, but her determination was unwavering. She would weave her way into his life, disrupting his studies, and invading his personal space. Y/N was frustrated, but he knew better than to underestimate her.

One evening, Y/N was forced to attend a family dinner at a luxurious restaurant. As he sat at the table, he felt a surge of unease. His father introduced him to a family at a nearby table, the An family. Y/N's heart sank as he recognized the familiar face of An Yujin.

To his horror, his father revealed that the two families had agreed to an arranged marriage between him and Yujin. The news sent shockwaves through Y/N. He couldn't believe that his life had taken such a drastic turn. Yujin, on the other hand, was ecstatic. She saw this as an opportunity to have complete control over Y/N's life.

The following months were a whirlwind of preparations for the wedding. Y/N, though reluctant, knew he had no choice but to comply. The wedding was a lavish affair, attended by the elite of both the Italian and Korean underworld. Despite his reservations, Y/N couldn't deny the beauty of the ceremony and the allure of his bride.

Their honeymoon in the serene island of Jeju offered a temporary respite from the chaos of their lives. Y/N and Yujin spent their days exploring the island, indulging in its natural beauty, and trying to forge a connection. Yujin, however, was far from content. She yearned for more than just a peaceful honeymoon.

"You know, Y/N," she began one evening, her voice laced with mischief, "I've always wondered what it would be like to truly know you. The real you, beneath that stoic facade."

Y/N, taken aback by her directness, hesitated. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"I mean," Yujin continued, leaning in closer, "I want to see the fire beneath the ice. I want to push you to your limits, to see what makes you tick."

Y/N was wary. He knew that Yujin was capable of anything, and he feared that she would use this opportunity to break him. But he also couldn't deny the thrill of the unknown.

"Fine," he said, his voice barely audible. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

From that moment on, their honeymoon took a dramatic turn. Yujin, with her insatiable curiosity, began to probe deeper into Y/N's past, his fears, and his desires. She challenged him at every turn, testing his limits and pushing him to his breaking point.

Y/N, in turn, found himself drawn to her intensity. He was fascinated by her boldness and her unwavering determination. He had never met anyone like her before, someone who could see through his defenses and challenge him in ways he never thought possible.

As their honeymoon drew to a close, they returned to Seoul, ready to face the challenges of their new life together. Yujin, ever the strategist, had already planned their future. She had ambitions for their family, for their empire. And she knew that Y/N, with his intelligence and ruthlessness, would be the perfect partner in crime.

Y/N, however, had his own plans. He knew that he couldn't allow Yujin to control his destiny. He had to find a way to assert his independence, to carve his own path, even within the confines of their arranged marriage.

The road ahead would be fraught with danger, betrayal, and love. Y/N and Yujin, two powerful forces, were destined to clash, to collide, and ultimately, to change each other forever.

The honeymoon phase was short-lived. Back in Seoul, the reality of their arranged marriage settled in. Yujin, ever the manipulator, began to weave her web of deceit. She played the loving wife, the doting partner, but her true intentions were far more sinister. She saw Y/N as a means to an end, a tool to further her family's power and influence.

Y/N, meanwhile, was struggling to reconcile his feelings. He was drawn to Yujin's intensity, her intelligence, and her unwavering belief in him. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that she was hiding something, that her love was conditional.

Their lives became a constant battle of wills. Yujin, with her cunning and ruthlessness, would scheme and plot, always one step ahead. Y/N, on the other hand, was a man of honor and integrity, a stark contrast to the world of deceit and corruption that surrounded him.

As their marriage deepened, so did the darkness that consumed them. Yujin's obsession with control grew, and she would stop at nothing to get what she wanted. She manipulated situations, sowed discord, and even resorted to violence to maintain her power.

Y/N, caught in her web, was forced to make difficult choices. He had to balance his loyalty to his family with his love for Yujin. He had to navigate the treacherous waters of the underworld, where trust was a rare commodity and betrayal was the norm.

One fateful night, a devastating event shattered their fragile peace. A rival mafia family, seeking revenge, attacked Y/N and Yujin. The attack was brutal, leaving Y/N severely injured and Yujin traumatized. The incident exposed the harsh realities of their world, the constant threat of violence and death.

As Y/N recovered, he began to see Yujin in a new light. He realized that her love was not unconditional, but rather a tool to achieve her own goals. The facade of their perfect marriage began to crumble, revealing the cracks beneath the surface.

Y/N, determined to break free from Yujin's clutches, started to fight back. He used his intelligence and cunning to outmaneuver her, to expose her true colors. He formed alliances, made deals, and played the game of power.

The conflict between Y/N and Yujin escalated, leading to a series of dangerous encounters. They fought for control, for love, and for survival. In the end, it was Y/N who emerged victorious, but at a great cost. He had lost his innocence, his trust, and a part of himself.

Yujin, defeated and broken, was forced to confront the consequences of her actions. She had lost everything she had worked for, her love, her power, and her sense of self. As she watched Y/N walk away, she realized the true meaning of loss and the emptiness of a life built on deceit.

The tension between Y/N and Yujin had reached a boiling point. Their once passionate love had morphed into a toxic obsession, a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Each encounter was a battleground, their words sharp daggers, their actions calculated and ruthless.

"You're a monster, Yujin," Y/N hissed, his voice laced with anger and betrayal. "A manipulative, heartless creature."

Yujin, unfazed, met his gaze. "And you, Y/N, are a fool. A pawn in a game you don't understand."

Their arguments escalated into physical confrontations, their love turning into a destructive force. Y/N, driven by a desperate need to break free, resorted to drastic measures. He exposed her secrets, her lies, her manipulations.

Yujin, cornered and desperate, retaliated with a ferocity that shocked even herself. She unleashed a torrent of pain, using his vulnerabilities against him. She toyed with his emotions, pushing him to the brink of madness.

Their love had become a twisted, dangerous game, a dance with death. They were both victims and perpetrators, caught in a cycle of destruction.

One fateful night, their conflict reached its climax. A confrontation, fueled by rage and despair, led to a tragic accident. The consequences were devastating. Y/N was forced to make a heart-wrenching decision, a choice that would forever haunt him.

As he walked away, leaving Yujin behind, he felt a profound sense of loss. He had lost his innocence, his trust, and a part of his soul. The love he had once cherished had turned into a toxic obsession, a destructive force that had consumed him.

Yujin, left alone, was consumed by regret and despair. She had lost everything she had ever wanted, her love, her power, and her sense of self. The emptiness she felt was overwhelming, a void that would never be filled.

As she watched Y/N disappear into the night, she realized the true cost of her obsession. The love she had craved had turned into a nightmare, a haunting reminder of the destructive power of desire.

The aftermath of their confrontation left an indelible mark on both Y/N and Yujin. The love they once shared had been shattered, replaced by a toxic mix of anger, resentment, and a lingering desire.

Y/N, though scarred by the experience, had managed to break free from Yujin's grasp. He had found solace in his work, immersing himself in his studies and building a new life. But deep down, a part of him still yearned for the woman he once loved.

Yujin, on the other hand, was a prisoner of her own obsession. She had lost everything she had worked for, her love, her power, and her sense of self. The emptiness she felt was overwhelming, a void that consumed her every waking moment.

As time passed, Yujin began to realize the true nature of her feelings for Y/N. The love she had once dismissed as a mere game had evolved into a deep, all-consuming desire. She yearned for his touch, his voice, his presence.

One day, fate intervened. A chance encounter brought them face to face, their eyes locking in a silent battle of wills. The tension between them was palpable, a mix of love, hate, and longing.

"I'm sorry," Yujin whispered, her voice barely audible. "I was wrong."

Y/N, surprised by her confession, hesitated. "What do you want, Yujin?"

"I want you," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I want us."

Y/N was torn. He knew that Yujin was capable of great harm, but he couldn't deny the love he still felt for her. He knew that their relationship was a dangerous gamble, but he was willing to take the risk.

They embarked on a journey of healing and redemption, a path fraught with challenges and setbacks. They had to confront the demons of their past, the pain, the betrayal, and the broken promises.

But through it all, their love endured. It was a love forged in fire, a love that had survived the test of time and the trials of adversity. They learned to trust each other, to be honest, and to forgive.

Their love story was a testament to the enduring power of human connection, a reminder that even the darkest of hearts can find redemption.

[dissapointu]

“Rom-Com Kisses”

The living room is dim, lit only by the soft glow of the TV, flickering as the credits of a rom-com roll across the screen. Vi sits next to you on the couch, her legs stretched out, her usual tough demeanor softened in the comfort of your shared space. The faint scent of popcorn lingers in the air, and the quiet hum of the TV is the only sound, except for the occasional light chuckle or sigh escaping you both as you watch the characters on screen navigate their messy, sometimes ridiculous love stories.

You’re not sure how it happened, but somehow, Vi ended up agreeing to watch this movie. You know she’s more of a fast-paced action type—fights, explosions, and the thrill of chaos. But tonight, you convinced her with a little bit of persistence and a lot of your best puppy-dog eyes.

And now, here you are—cuddled up on the couch, your legs tangled together beneath a soft blanket, watching the predictable plot unfold.

Vi nudges you with her elbow, her voice low and teasing. “I can’t believe you’re making me watch this cheesy stuff.” She gives you a playful side-eye, but there’s a warmth in her expression, something that’s rare to see, especially in moments like this.

You roll your eyes, but can’t help but smile. “Come on, admit it. You’re enjoying it,” you tease, bumping her shoulder lightly. “It’s got romance, humor, and… well, a lot of drama. Just like real life.”

Vi snorts, her lips curling up at the corners. “You’re right about one thing—there’s way too much drama for my liking.”

You laugh, your fingers brushing against her hand. The closeness feels natural, the weight of her body beside you grounding you in a way you didn’t know you needed. You’ve always felt a strong pull toward her, even when she’s trying to push the idea of love and softness away. But tonight, she’s here, and her eyes flicker between you and the screen, occasionally meeting your gaze with a grin or a small laugh.

As the movie hits its peak, the couple on screen is about to share a kiss—an overly dramatic, slow-motion kiss that would make even the most hardened person roll their eyes. You can’t help but laugh softly, knowing full well what’s coming.

Vi glances over at you, catching the amusement in your eyes. “What? Something funny about the kiss?” she asks, her voice almost challenging.

You shake your head, still smiling. “No, I’m just… wondering when you’re gonna kiss me like that.”

Vi’s brows raise slightly, her lips curving into a sly grin. “Oh? Is that what you want?” she teases, leaning a little closer.

Before you can respond, Vi’s hand finds yours, her fingers curling around yours in a way that sends a spark of warmth through you. The playful edge in her eyes fades just slightly, and she watches you closely, as if waiting for you to say something, to make the first move.

But you don’t need to. You’re not sure what it is—maybe the chemistry between you two, or maybe the sweetness of the moment, with the world outside quiet and peaceful—but something shifts.

Vi leans in, her breath warm on your skin as she closes the distance, her lips brushing yours in a soft, teasing kiss. It’s not overly dramatic like the one on the screen, but the gentleness of it, the sweetness, makes your heart race in a way that feels a little unreal. She pulls away just slightly, her eyes locking onto yours, searching, as if looking for permission or reassurance.

You don’t need to say a word. The way you’re both positioned, the way the moment feels, says it all. You pull her in again, this time a little deeper, the kiss more certain, more tender. Vi’s hand rests on your waist as she leans into the kiss, her body language softening as she surrenders to the moment. Her lips are gentle, warm, and you find yourself losing track of time as the kiss deepens, the world outside of the living room slipping away.

When you finally pull back, both of you a little breathless, Vi rests her forehead against yours, her eyes closed as she grins.

“Guess I can do cheesy romance,” she mutters with a quiet laugh. “Just for you.”

You smile, your heart still fluttering in your chest. “You’re perfect,” you whisper, your hand running gently through her hair.

Vi gives you a sideways glance, her lips curling into a smug grin. “I know,” she says, before leaning in to kiss you once more, this time a little slower, savoring the moment.

As you kiss her, the rom-com on the screen becomes a blur. The movie doesn’t matter anymore. The kiss—her warmth, her hands, the way she holds you close—becomes everything. In this simple moment, on this quiet night, you realize that maybe, just maybe, life can be a little bit like a rom-com. You just have to be willing to take a chance on it.

And right now, with Vi by your side, you know it’s worth it.

[metallicames]

New fic with 2000's James! Hope you like it 🥰

@nausicaamusiclover20 you for the perfect translation❣️

I missed you

Description: You and James had a baby two months ago, you're slowly getting back into your routine and you feel the need to start making love with James again and it seems almost like the first time.

WARNINGS: smut, explicit content, sex, oral sex, dirty talking.

Two months have passed since Elijah was born—two difficult, but at the same time, beautiful and intense months. James has proven to be an amazing father. Since he got sober, he feels like a different person—caring, attentive, present, and reliable. I find myself falling even more in love with him. Slowly, I'm getting back into my routine. It feels good to focus on myself again, but part of me still aches every time I leave Elijah. I never thought I'd be the kind of mom who struggles with being apart from her baby, but every time I head to the gym or prepare for my upcoming runway show, there's a knot in my stomach. I’m so proud of what I do, but I can't help but feel torn.

In three months, I have a big runway show, and I've started going to the gym again. Today is one of those days, and I’m heading home after my workout, eager to see Elijah and James again.

I push the door open, the familiar scent of home welcoming me. I can already hear the soft hum of James's guitar drifting down the hallway. My heart skips a beat, and I find myself walking toward Elijah’s room almost instinctively.

When I step inside, I pause, watching them. James is sitting in the armchair by the crib, guitar in hand, his strong fingers gently strumming a slow, peaceful melody. Elijah is peacefully asleep in his crib, his tiny chest rising and falling in rhythm with the song. I can’t help but smile, my chest swelling with love.

James’s presence is such a contrast to the serene room around Elijah. His broad shoulders and tattooed arms look so out of place here, surrounded by the soft colors and delicate decor, but somehow, it makes everything feel even more right. He looks so relaxed, so at peace. It’s as if the world outside doesn’t exist in these moments, and all that matters is the tiny soul asleep in the crib and the man playing music to him.

I stay still, watching them, my heart full. It’s been months since we’ve had time alone, and I can feel the distance between us melting away, the desire for him creeping back in. But there's also something else—a sense of longing for the connection we've both been craving. It’s been so long since we've had time to ourselves, just the two of us.

I bite my lip, torn between my love for Elijah and the pull of James. I’m not sure I’m ready for everything to change, but seeing him like this, so attentive, so gentle—it stirs something deep inside me.

Finally, I take a step closer, my footsteps soft on the carpet, and I lean in to kiss the top of Elijah's head before turning my attention to James.

“You’re always full of surprises,” I whisper, my voice soft, teasing.

“I thought I’d try something different today,” he says with a grin, putting the guitar down gently. “Elijah seemed to like it.”

I smile, my heart melting. I lean in, letting my fingers brush against his, a small touch that sends warmth through me. “He did. I think he’s just as in love with you as I am.”

James’s hand tightens around mine, pulling me in closer. For a moment, it’s just us, standing there in the quiet of the nursery, the world outside forgotten.

A shiver runs down my spine. It’s been months since we’ve touched, and I can feel the longing desire  inside me. The distance between us has become unbearable, and I know it’s finally time to reconnect, to feel his touch again, to make love.

I watch Elijah sleeping peacefully in his crib, careful not to disturb him. I don’t dare touch him, not wanting to wake him up. My heart is racing as I turn toward James, and I can’t help but move toward him. I reach up and run my fingers through his short, tousled hair, the touch soft and gentle, before pressing my lips to his in a slow kiss. I pull away slowly, my gaze locking with his, and then kiss him again, this time deepening it, my tongue slipping past his lips with a careful, lingering motion.

His hand moves to my face, cupping my jaw and the side of my neck. His grip is firm, but there’s tenderness in the way he holds me, his fingers pressing slightly against my skin. He tightens his hold just a little, sending a shiver through my body.

"I want you..." I whisper, my voice breathless as my lips hover close to his ear.

I feel him stiffen slightly, his gaze lighting up with a fire that matches my own. He had promised to wait for me, to wait until I was ready. I know he’s been patient, but I can see in his eyes the same longing that’s been growing inside me. The months of silence, of distance—it’s been agony for both of us.

"Are you ready?" he asks, his voice low and full of concern, but there's a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes search mine, making sure I’m comfortable, that this is what I really want. "Do you feel okay?"

I meet his gaze, nodding softly. "I’m ready," I whisper. "I feel… right with you."

His smirk deepens, and he nods, his eyes darkening with approval. Then, as if to answer my unspoken invitation, he leans in and kisses me again, this time with more urgency. The kiss starts slow, sweet, but quickly becomes more passionate, his lips moving against mine with a deep hunger. His hands roam to my back, pulling me closer, the heat between us building as we kiss.

After a few moments, I pull back just enough to breathe, my chest rising and falling rapidly. My fingers trail down his chest, and I look up at him with a small smile. "Let’s go to the bedroom, "I suggest, my voice thick with desire.

He gives me a slight nod, but I hesitate, glancing back toward Elijah. "Wait" I say, stepping back for a moment. I grab the walkie-talkie from the shelf by the door and hand it to him. "Just in case he wakes up…"

James takes the walkie-talkie with a smirk still playing on his lips, his eyes locked on mine. "We’ll be quick" he says, the teasing tone in his voice making it clear he's eager, but patient.

I feel strangely nervous, almost as if it’s the first time. Maybe it’s the fear that something has changed, that it won’t be the same as before. If that’s the case, it would hit me hard because making love with James has always been one of the things I love most in the world. I try to hide the anxiety by kissing him hungrily, my hands finding their way to his chest, slipping under his shirt. The warmth of his toned chest makes me crave him even more.

As we move toward the bedroom, my heart is pounding in my chest. I try to push away the doubts creeping in—wondering if everything will be as it once was. What if things have changed? What if the passion we shared is gone, lost in the months of silence and distance? The thought makes me uneasy, but I try to shove it aside, focusing instead on the feel of his lips on mine, the warmth of his body against mine. I don’t want to think about anything else right now—just him.

James pushes me gently toward the bed, and I sit down, looking up at him. I can see the hunger in his eyes, the same fire that’s burning in me. Without breaking eye contact, I reach down to undo his belt, biting my lower lip as I pull at the buckle, feeling the tension build with every second.

"How badly do you want it?" he asks, his voice teasing, but laced with desire.

"Too much..." I answer, my hands pulling down the zipper of his jeans, my breath quickening with anticipation.

I pull down his pants and boxers, my gaze lingering on him for a moment. I can feel the weight of his eyes on me, and the air between us feels thick with desire. I can’t resist reaching out, my hands trembling slightly as I take his dick, slowly stroking it while I licked it, waching him intensely. His hand comes to the back of my head, gently guiding me closer. His breath quickens, and I can hear the low sounds of his pleasure. I take my time, moving deliberately, savoring the moment, savoring him.

"Stop…" he whispers, his voice rough. "I’m already close..."

I slow down, feeling the change in the air between us. I pull back just a little, giving him space to breathe, to collect himself. My fingers brush my lips, and I look at him, my chest rising and falling with each breath.  His eyes are dark, deep, full of desire. He pulls off my shirt, and for a moment, I feel exposed and vulnerable. My body has changed—my breasts are fuller from breastfeeding—and although I’ve almost regained my shape, I still don’t feel completely at ease. But when I see the way he looks at me, I feel a shiver run through me. His gaze moves slowly over every inch of my body, as if he’s memorizing me, in awe of the way I’ve changed.

He unhooked my bra while kissing me with slow, passionate intensity. The bra falls to the floor, and with one hand, he gently touches my breast. He knows I’m sensitive, so he’s careful, making sure his touch is soft, almost reverent. His fingers leave a trail of warmth that makes my head spin. I want him so much, more than I can put into words. I could throw myself at him in an instant, but he holds back, wanting to take his time, wanting to be gentle with me. His care only makes me want him more.

I lie back, pulling him down toward me, kissing him with a hunger I can’t suppress. I bite his lips softly, savoring every moment, intoxicated by his scent, his warmth. It’s like everything around us fades away, and I’m lost in him.

James pulls back just slightly, his eyes searching mine before he carefully pulls off my jeans and panties, his touch never rushing, always slow and deliberate. 

"You're beautiful... like a goddess," he says, his voice almost breathless. His compliment makes me blush, and I look at him, pleased, as I whisper, "Come here."

He quickly pulls off his shirt, his eyes never leaving mine. The intensity between us grows, and I feel a spark of anticipation.

His hand moves slowly toward my body,  touching my clit, sending a wave of pleasure through me. I arch my back instinctively, the pleasure building with every soft, deliberate touch. He kisses my chest, taking his time, pressing his face into me as if savoring every moment. His movements are slow, thoughtful, as though he’s memorizing each of my reactions.

I can feel myself becoming restless, my body craving more. It’s like a fire burning in me, one I can’t control.

"James, please... I need you," I say, my voice tinged with desperation, my body responding to his touch, moving beneath him.

He looks at me with a smile, positioning himself between us, his gaze full of longing. As he kisses me, he slowly pushes himself into me and I feel a rush of warmth and closeness. My breath catches in my throat, and I can’t make a sound, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. I open my mouth slightly, a deep sigh escaping as I hold him closer, feeling his arms enveloping me.

“God... I’ve missed you so much,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice thick with emotion. I feel the weight of his body above me, the pressure grounding me, but there’s something comforting in it—like we’re both exactly where we’re meant to be. But it becomes more passionate as I feel his dik rubbing in my clit at every thrust.  and I can’t help but respond to him, my hands gripping his back, my body aching to feel every part of him.

I know he’s holding back, trying not to rush, making sure I’m okay, and it makes me crave him more. I whisper his name, urging him on, knowing that right now, we both need this—need each other.

“Harder… James… give it to me harder,” I urge, my voice trembling with desire.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you,” he asks, concerned in his voice.

Without saying a word, I place my hand on his butt, guiding him closer to me, urging him deeper. He understands the message  and his arms move around me, pulling me in, his hands gently supporting the back of my head. He begins to thrust harder, with a new intensity, each motion slow but deep, bringing a wave of pleasure with every thrust. I let myself fully surrender to the sensation, each movement leaving me breathless. 

James is completely immersed in the moment now. His lips leave mine, his forehead resting softly against my shoulder as he continues thrusting, as though nothing else matters but the connection between us. I can feel him shaking, his breath quickening, and the way his body reacts tells me everything I need to know.

“Keep going,” I whisper, lost in the feeling of him, feeling the intensity building between us.

He reaches the peak, pulling away and leaning over me, his breath shallow as he cums all over my body, his expression of pleasure sending a rush of excitement through me. The warmth of him leaves me breathless, and his uneven breaths only heighten the intensity of the moment, sending me into a daze of sensation.

"I love you..." I whisper softly.

"I love you too, Y/N..." he responds, his breath heavy.

I look down at my abdomen and burst into laughter.

"Oops..." he says, laughing as he runs a hand through his hair.

He gets up and heads to the bathroom. When he returns, he has a damp towel, and he gently wipes it over my body, the sensation soothing. As he reaches my lower abdomen, I realize I still crave him. I want to feel more. As he moves the towel down, he pauses at my lower abdomen, almost as if he can read my thoughts. He starts kissing me, moving lower, and suddenly a wave of anxiety hits me. I’m afraid my body isn’t the same, that he won’t find me attractive anymore. Instinctively, I close my legs.

He looks at me, confusion in his eyes. "Hey... it’s me."

"I know, but..." I trail off, unsure of how to explain.

"You're perfect... relax," he says, his tone soft and reassuring as he continues to kiss me gently.

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes, feeling him gently part my legs, kissing my clit. Slowly, I start to relax, and I realize my fears were unfounded. He loves my body just as much, if not more, than before. From this moment, his mouth and tongue move with perfect rhythm, knowing exactly how to stimulate every right spot. I know he loves giving me pleasure, and I can tell he would never stop. As he picks up the pace, a wave of shivers runs through my body, almost like an electric shock with every touch.

"Oh my God, James... you’re going to make me c..." I gasp, my hand tangled in his hair as I start trembling beneath him.

From time to time, he lets out a low, almost primal groan, sending another jolt of pleasure through me, making the sensation even more intense. At one point, he takes my ankle and places my foot on his shoulder, and I raise the other one to mirror the position, giving him more room to move. He kisses deeper, the sensation of his touch making me dizzy. His intensity drives me wild, and I can feel how deeply he desires me, how every action, every movement reminds me that I belong to him.

I can no longer control my moans, my body trembling with each wave of sensation. I arch my back, turning my head back as the pleasure builds. Just before reaching the edge, I glance down, seeing James, his skin glistening with sweat, completely naked between my legs. The sight of him, the way he moves against the mattress, only intensifies the feeling.

"J-Jamie... oh my God... I’m... I’m coming," I gasp, my body contorting as I grip the pillow with one hand. He wraps his arm around my leg, and with the final movements, he brings me to a powerful, overwhelming release. It’s intense, freeing, and everything I’ve been craving.

The sensation is so overwhelming and prolonged that I can barely catch my breath. I loosen my grip on his hair, and I notice that he’s still grinding against the mattress, his face so close to me. His soft groans soon give way to his own exhaustion, and he finally stills, breathing heavily. 

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaims, almost breathless.

"What happened?" you ask, amused, as you run your fingers through his hair and pull your feet off his shoulders.

"It’s that I... I came while I was eating you out . This is the effect you have on me," he says, his head resting on your lower abdomen, his breathing heavy and irregular. You smile, gently stroking his temple. He slowly sits up and lies next to you. You turn onto your side to watch him, admiring him quietly.

"Never doubt your body again, understood?" His voice is firm, his gaze intense, almost as if he's trying to make me believe in myself just as much as he believes in me.

I nod, my heart racing, and lean in to kiss him. The moment our lips touch, I feel a tear escape, rolling down my cheek.

He pulls away just enough to look at me, his expression filled with concern. "Why are you crying now?"

I try to steady my breath, the emotions swirling within me. "I don’t know... it's just... I’ve missed you so much, and with everything... my hormones are all over the place. There’s just so much I feel... I can’t even explain it all," I confess, my voice trembling with vulnerability.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he gently pulls me closer, wrapping his arms tightly around me, as if trying to protect me from all the worries I’ve been carrying. His warmth grounds me, and I can’t help but close my eyes and bury my face in the crook of his neck.

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, and I feel his chest rise and fall as he inhales deeply. “I love you,” he whispers, the words coming so naturally, like they’re the most important thing he’s ever said.

I melt into his embrace, feeling his arms around me, holding me in a way that tells me I’m safe. The steady beat of his heart beneath my ear calms the storm inside me, and for a moment, everything feels right.

[misswynters]

Jinx having a gf who’s touchy and affectionate

requested. @luc1dw0rld

Jinx’s hideout was always filled with chaos, half-finished inventions strewn across every surface, faint scorch marks on the walls, and the constant hum of machinery that never quite worked the way she wanted. But today, it felt different. Calmer, almost peaceful. It wasn’t because she’d finally decided to clean up the mess. She hadn’t. It was because of you.

You were sprawled out on her couch, an old, tattered thing she’d salvaged from a junkyard, but it felt like a throne whenever you were on it. Jinx sat cross-legged on the floor in front of you, tinkering with a grenade she’d been working on for days. Your legs dangled over the edge of the couch, and every so often, your foot brushed against her shoulder. Each touch, light as it was, sent a warmth through her that she didn’t know how to handle.

“Y’know, I think I’ve got this one right this time,” Jinx muttered, her tongue poking out as she focused on the tiny screws and wires in her hands. Her usual frenetic energy was dulled and her movements slower.

“I don’t doubt it for a second,” you said from above her. Your voice was soft, laced with the kind of unwavering confidence in her abilities that always made her stomach twist in unfamiliar ways.

She glanced up at you, her eyes wide and unguarded for a split second before she remembered herself and looked away. “Pfft. Don’t go jinxin’ it, babe,” she said, forcing a smirk as she set the grenade down. But her voice lacked its usual sharp edge, softened by the way you were looking at her.

You slid off the couch and onto the floor beside her, your legs folding neatly under you. “Need help?” you asked, even though you both knew your technical skills couldn’t match hers. It didn’t matter. The question wasn’t really about the grenade.

Jinx tensed for a moment, her fingers twitching against her thighs. She wasn’t used to this. To someone just…being there. It was a different kind of tension, though. Not the kind that made her fingers itch for a trigger or her mind spiral into chaos. It was much softer.

“Nah, I’m good,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. But she didn’t move away when your hand rested lightly on her knee.

You smiled at her, that small, knowing smile that always made her feel like you could see straight through her defenses. “Alright,” you said, leaning back on your hands.

Jinx’s gaze flicked to your hand on her knee, then to your face. She could feel the weight of your affection in the smallest gestures. The way your fingers curled slightly, as if anchoring her in place. It was overwhelming and comforting all at once, a contradiction she couldn’t quite wrap her head around.

“You’re all…touchy, y’know that?” she said, trying for a teasing tone, but it came out softer than she intended.

“Does it bother you?” you asked, tilting your head.

Jinx hesitated, her fingers drumming against her leg in a rapid rhythm. “Nah. It’s just…weird. Not bad weird. Just…weird weird.”

You chuckled, the sound light and easy. “I’ll take weird weird.”

She watched as you leaned closer, your fingers brushing a stray strand of blue hair out of her face. The gesture was so gentle, so casual, it made her heart stutter. She wasn’t used to people touching her like this. As if she was something fragile, something worth handling with care.

“Why’re you always doing that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Doing what?”

“Touching me. Like…like that.”

You tilted your head, your expression soft but serious. “Because I love you, Jinx.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to do with them. Love wasn’t something she was good at. It was messy and complicated and full of things she didn’t understand. Whenever she was with you, her entire world felt simpler.

She looked away, her cheeks flushing a faint pink. “You’re such a sap,” she muttered, but there was no bite in her words.

“That means you like it,” you said, your voice teasing but warm.

She rolled her eyes, but the faint smile tugging at her lips gave her away. “Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head.”

You didn’t respond, just leaned closer until your forehead was resting against hers. Jinx froze, her breath catching in her throat. She could feel the heat of your skin, the steady rhythm of your breathing, and it was…nice.

“You okay?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice shaky but sincere. “Just…not used to this. Feels…weird.”

“Weird weird?”

“Yeah. But, like…good weird.”

You smiled, your hand slipping into hers. Her fingers twitched, hesitant at first, but then they tightened around yours. She didn’t say anything, but the way her grip lingered said more than words ever could. For a while, the two of you just sat there, her hand in yours, her forehead still pressed against yours. The chaos of the hideout faded into the background, replaced by a quiet that was rare for her. It wasn’t the kind of quiet that came with loneliness. It was the kind of quiet that felt safe. Jinx absolutely loved the time she would spend with you. You are her world.

banner. @anitalenia

[nightxcreature]

20

Summary: Reader relaxes while Dean is away.

Warnings: Panic attack, Death, Grief, Angst

Pairing: DeanxReader, SamxReader (platonic)

A/N: I’m so sorry. 😬 I love you.

Written quickly, edited poorly. You don’t have permission to copy my work, so don’t. 18+ only.

Yellow light cascaded across the room from the lamp beside me leaving a faint film across the pages of the book in my hands. I’d had the bunker to myself this weekend while Sam and Dean went on a quick hunt not too far from home, and I was taking full advantage of the silence. Miracle was curled up at my feet mouthing a squeaky bear and enjoying our lazy day. After the busy few weeks we’ve had, a little reprieve with man’s best friend in the library was much needed as the next several weeks would be even busier. Dean had planned a roadtrip to celebrate this hunt, our bags packed and ready to go by our bedroom door. Excitement and exhaustion were imminent and I knew this moment of peace would be required to make it through whatever plans my lover had made.

I smiled softly at the thought of Dean and the life we would have after this. He’d never been one for marriage or kids or the Apple-pie life, but the moment Chuck was gone I knew something had changed for him.

—————————————————————————

The door to our shared bedroom was open as I worked making the stomp of Deans heavy boots reach my ears before he reached the doorway.

“Hey,” He calls as he steps inside, placing a kiss to my temple and dropping a few papers onto the desk in front of me.

“What’s this?” I’d asked, smirking up at him as I lifted the packet to my eyes. The question hung in the air for a moment as I read over the papers before me, “An application for the fire department, and…” My head jerks back slightly in surprise as I read over the next page, “You wanna buy a house? Like white picket fence-barefoot and pregnant-with a dog-buy a house?”

“Uh, It doesn’t have to be, if you don’t want it to. I just-you know, I’ve always wanted to be a firefighter, and, I’ll need a job. Plus, we can’t always live here so I- uh, I just thought maybe you’d like to move in with me. Like…our own place.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke, an adorable sheepish smile on his face, “We can talk about the barefoot and pregnant part later.”

My eyes widened a bit as I took in his response. Leaning back in the chair I placed my pen against my lips and grinned, “So, a house and my own personal Magic Mike?”

He’d rolled his eyes, a smirk pulling at the edge of his lips as he nodded, “Yeah, but only if you want.”

I’d dropped the pen in my hand quickly and jumped up to kiss his lips. His hands immediately finding my waist and pulling me closer, our hips slamming against one another as he dug his fingers into my skin. My hands were covering his blush-stained cheeks, pulling his face into mine harshly. When we broke apart grinning, he’d chuckled softly. “So, is that a yes?” He’d asked, breathlessly.

“Absolutely.” I mumbled, placing my lips over his again and quickly finding myself underneath him.

——————————————————————————

My train of thought is abruptly broken by the steel door slamming open at the top of the stairs and Miracle whining at my feet. I duck my head to see which brother comes down first when Sam stops short of the last step. I close my book as I watch him there, his hands in his pockets and his head bowed low.

“Hey, Sammy. You okay?” I ask as I stand, worry building in my veins. He doesn’t speak as I reach him, doesn’t raise his head or acknowledge me in anyway until I place a hand on his arm, “Sam, look at me.”

Slowly he raises his head, tears falling down his red and swollen face, “I’m so sorry.” He whispers out, “I’m so, so sorry.” He collapsed into my arms, heavy sobs leaving his body. I wrap my arms tightly around him, pulling him to stand as best I can before wracking my brain for whatever could cause him to go into such a….

Suddenly the world goes deathly still, only the sound of my heartbeat and Sam’s broken sobs reach my ears. My chest is heaving and the world is spinning and I can’t seem to form a coherent thought when I raise my trembling hands to push him off of me. Pointing a single shaking finger in his direction.

“No.” I whisper quietly, “Sam, no.”

“I’m so sorry.” He mutters again, devastation covering his face, “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.” I snap, “Stop it!”

My feet are moving before I register that I’m halfway up the stairs, the steel door the only barrier between me and what lies ahead. I sling it open, half expecting to see Dean standing there with a shit-eating grin on his face and saying “Gotcha!”, but I’m met with nothing. I push my way through the bunker, Sam following quickly behind me, practically begging me to turn around, but I can’t stop my feet. I can’t stop the need to see him.

I fling open the garage door and am met with the sight of Baby parked in her usual spot. I stop short of the drivers door, already able to see the white cloth covering the backseat.

“Is that…” I choke out.

“Yeah.”

Neither of us speak for a moment, the silence deafening between us. I take several slow steps closer, my mind and heart at war as I reach up to open the back door. I place my hand on his head, taking a deep breath as I push the sheet down to see his face. A sob racks through me and I drop to my knees, cradling his head in my hands. His eyes are closed, his face a picture of peace that I’d never seen before. I would believe he’s sleeping if I didn’t know any better. The dark freckles that scattered his face are pale, his lips ashen, all signs of the life my love lived have long since left. I stroke my thumb across his cold cheek and place my lips to his forehead as I cry.

“You ass.” I whisper against his skin, “We had plans. What am I supposed to do now?”

The tears falling from my eyes find themselves on his own face, covering his cheeks as if, even in death, he’s crying with me; Mourning the life we could’ve had…The life we should’ve had.

“This isn’t supposed to happen now.” I mumble, shaking his limp shoulders, “Chucks dead! You’re supposed to be happy. We’re supposed to be happy, Dean! Wake up! Please, Wake up! This isn’t real. This isn’t real!”

My eyes suddenly snap open, the light from our bedside lamp igniting the green orbs in front of me. Dean’s face full of worry as his arms wrap protectively around me.

“Hey, hey. It isn’t real. Shh. It isn’t real, Baby.” He whispers, rocking me back and forth as I cry against his chest, “I’m right here. You’re safe, you’re fine.”

Hot tears coat my cheeks and I lift my head to see they’ve stained his shirt, “I’m-I’m sorry. I just-I can’t-I”

He reaches over and grabs one of my hands, placing it over his heart as he cups my face with his other, “Focus on my heart. I’m right here, you’re safe. This is real.”

I focus solely on his heart beating beneath my fingers, the panic subsiding but the tears coming quicker than ever, “I thought you were dead.” I whisper, “I dreamed it and it-it seemed so real.”

He wraps his big arms around my torso and pulls me into his lap as he leans against the headboard, “Not dead, yet. I couldn’t leave you like that, I promised you Magic Mike and a couple babies, didn’t I?” He teases, placing sweet kisses across my face as my breathing slows, “Can’t get rid of me until I hold up my end of the bargain.”

I smile and place my head in the crook of his neck as I tuck into his side, “I know. It just felt so real.”

He shakes his head slowly and pulls the blankets up our bodies to rid us of the bunkers chill, “I ain’t leaving ya anytime soon.” He whispers, kissing the top of my head and sliding down so we’re laying on the mattress again, my head on his chest and his hand in my hair, “Well, after I take care of that Vamp nest with Sammy tomorrow.”

——————————————————————————

Taglist: @lmhf1 @whimsyfinny @k-slla @enigmalynne @envysarchive

@daisydark @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @manicjk @aylacavebear

@suckitands33 @oceean @mxtansy @justwhisperingfantasies @mgchaser

[mistriavalley]

I adore your writing for Alex from SDV! Could I request a piece where reader comforts him after a nightmare about his dad? Thank you in advance!

Alex wakes up from a nightmare (gn!farmer)

TW: angst, mentions of abuse

Masterlist

Alex doesn't intend to wake you up or even scare you when he practically shoots out of the bed. Pearls of sweat are covering his forehead and his chest rises and falls as he pants and gasps heavily. His wide eyes are frantically scanning the room, taking in his surroundings until he recognizes them and slowly begins to relax

"Alex...what's wrong?" Immediately, you climb out of bed as well and embrace him into a warm hug. Your husband melts into your touch and buries his face in your neck. That's when you feel something wet on your skin. Is he crying? The realization makes you pull him in even closer and you gently run your hand through his hair

"Take your time. I'm here." You keep whispering soothing words into his ear until the tension leaves his shoulders and he lifts his head to look at you. Even in the dim light of the moon that's shining through the windows, you see how red his eyes are. It breaks your heart to see him in such a state

Just give him some time. Lead him back to bed and don't leave his arms. Offer a warm drink like tea or hot chocolate or maybe a snack. Show him you're here for him and that he's okay

"It was my father. It felt so real." His words are quiet, barely a whisper as he stares down at his hands. They're shaking and you give them a reassuring squeeze. "He can't hurt you anymore." "I know. It's just...difficult sometimes." "I know."

"What if I will see him again at some point? Man...I have no idea what I'll do then." "You won't see him." Yes, Alex doesn't know what he'd do if his father would ever show up again, but you have no idea what the fuck you'd do either. After everything he has told you about that man...he better pray to Yoba every night that he'll never cross paths with you

It takes a long time for Alex to fall asleep again, but eventually he does and it seems to be a peaceful slumber. His head is resting on your chest and his hands cling so tightly to you that you can't even move an inch. That's fine though. You wouldn't want it any other way

While Alex seems okay the next morning, you can't help, but notice that he's a bit more distanced than usually. He has a smile on his lips that doesn't quite reach his eyes and his responses sound like he's somewhere entirely else with his mind. So you come up with an idea

"How about we have Dusty help us around the farm today?" The mention of his beloved pet immediately makes him light up and everything from that point on is smooth sailing. When you pick up the dog, you stop by his grandparents place for a coffee and some cookies as well

Dusty might be a bit old now, but he's running around the farm with the energy of a puppy that just now gets to explore the world. Alex runs after him with a ball and you watch them play as you sit on the porch, giggling at the sight

In the evening, after you brought Dusty back to his home, you and Alex start to get ready for bed when he suddenly pulls you into a tight hug. He softly places his lips on yours and he grabs both your hands with his

"I love you so so much."

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

thinking about how i need more tattoos

[martyrbat]

driver's seat — dc holiday special (2017)

(ID in alt!)

[crescentfool]

with the year coming to a close, i hope that anyone who's reflecting about how the year went remembers to be kind and fair to themselves with how you evaluate the year as a whole.

i think there are definitely times when life throws things that are... Not So Great at you. whether if it's some external circumstance that surprised you, or maybe your mentality wasn't at it's best. i wish for anyone who's encountered those kinds of challenges to be able to triumph over them and be able to say that they got through it.

heck, it might still be a work in progress even though you've kept chipping away at it, and that's ok! the results will show themselves eventually as you work through it! and i hope that we can all remember to be patient with ourselves as we go through these processes (learning, healing, etc.), because damn, it can be frustrating when you feel like you're "not there yet."

knowing that life can be rough at times, i think it's unfair to yourself (and others) to discount and downplay any progress you've made this year- whether if it's something that you did for the first time, or maybe you came to a new understanding and insight that you didn't have in the previous year.

it's not to say that you should undermine the validity of your experience with hardship, but to take the time to remind yourself what makes life worth living. to recall what moments were the most satisfying to you- and use it to strengthen your resolve for the next year and beyond. no amount of hardship will ever take away from the fact that you deserve to have hope that things will get better.

i hope that looking back on the year, you don't leave out the things you cherish. that you can remember the good that came this year. whether if the small victories are things like meeting someone new, trying something out for the first time, or making some strides in a long-term project/obligation...!

i wish everyone a happy new year! may it be prosperous, and that your life can move in a direction that's close to what you want out of life. you're all going to do great! remember to congratulate yourself for what you did well! despite everything, you're still here, and that's wonderful. never forget that!

[themyscirah]

I should make a post about how insane Diana being chosen as champion is at one point. Like yes ik in most versions it was an anonymous competition but like the sheer level of trust and hope and desire for reconciliation and peace that comes with that gesture is a so insane to me. Hippolyta the woman that you are...

[stargazingpsychotic]

I have to do something, I have to stop sitting around and waiting for the right time, it's already a good time, why not do it now

[jewishvitya]

A pro-Palestine Jew on tiktok asked those of us who were raised pro-Israel, what got us to change our minds on Palestine. I made a video to answer (with my voice, not my face), and a few people watched it and found some value in it. I'm putting this here too. I communicate through text better than voice.

So I feel repetitive for saying this at this point, but I grew up in the West Bank settlements. I wrote this post to give an example of the extent to which Palestinians are dehumanized there.

Where I live now, I meet Palestinians in day to day life. Israeli Arab citizens living their lives. In the West Bank, it was nothing like that. Over there, I only saw them through the electric fence, and the hostility between us and Palestinians was tangible.

When you're a child being brought into the situation, you don't experience the context, you don't experience the history, you don't know why they're hostile to you. You just feel "these people hate me, they don't want me to exist." And that bubble was my reality. So when I was taught in school that everything we did was in self defense, that our military is special and uniquely ethical because it's the only defensive military in the world - that made sense to me. It slotted neatly into the reality I knew.

One of the first things to burst the bubble for me was when I spoke to an old Israeli man and he was talking about his trauma from battle. I don't remember what he said, but it hit me wrong. It conflicted with the history as I understood it. So I was a bit desperate to make it make sense again, and I said, "But everything we did was in self defense, right?"

He kinda looked at me, couldn't understand at all why I was upset, and he went, "We destroyed whole villages. Of course we did. It was war, that's what you do."

And that casual "of course" stuck with me. I had to look into it more.

I couldn't look at more accurate history, and not at accounts by Palestinians, I was too primed against these sources to trust them. The community I grew up in had an anti-intellectual element to it where scholars weren't trusted about things like this.

So what really solidified this for me, was seeing Palestinian culture.

Because part of the story that Israel tells us to justify everything, is that Palestinians are not a distinct group of people, they're just Arabs. They belong to the nations around us. They insist on being here because they want to deny us a homeland. The Palestinian identity exists to hurt us. This, because the idea of displacing them and taking over their lands doesn't sound like stealing, if this was never theirs and they're only pretending because they want to deprive us.

But then foods, dances, clothing, embroidery, the Palestinian dialect. These things are history. They don't pop into existence just because you hate Jews and they're trying to move here. How gorgeous is the Palestinian thobe? How stunning is tatreez in general? And when I saw specific patterns belonging to different regions of Palestine?

All of these painted for me a rich shared life of a group of people, and countered the narrative that the Palestininian identity was fabricated to hurt us. It taught me that, whatever we call them, whatever they call themselves, they have a history in this land, they have a right to it, they have a connection to it that we can't override with our own.

I started having conversations with leftist friends. Confronting the fact that the borders of the occupied territories are arbitrary and every Israeli city was taken from them. In one of those conversations, I was encouraged to rethink how I imagine peace.

This also goes back to schooling. Because they drilled into us, we're the ones who want peace, they're the ones who keep fighting, they're just so dedicated to death and killing and they won't leave us alone.

In high school, we had a stadium event with a speaker who was telling us about a person who defected from Hamas, converted to Christianity and became a Shin Bet agent. Pretty sure you can read this in the book "Son of Hamas." A lot of my friends read the book, I didn't read it, I only know what I was told in that lecture. I guess they couldn't risk us missing out on the indoctrination if we chose not to read it.

One of the things they told us was how he thought, we've been fighting with them for so long, Israelis must have a culture around the glorification of violence. And he looked for that in music. He looked for songs about war. And for a while he just couldn't find any, but when he did, he translated it more fully, and he found out the song was about an end to wars. And this, according to the story as I was told it, was one of the things that convinced him. If you know know the current trending Israeli "war anthem," you know this flimsy reasoning doesn't work.

Back then, my friend encouraged me to think more critically about how we as Israelis envision peace, as the absence of resistance. And how self-centered it is. They can be suffering under our occupation, but as long as it doesn't reach us, that's called peace. So of course we want it and they don't.

Unless we're willing to work to change the situation entirely, our calls for peace are just "please stop fighting back against the harm we cause you."

In this video, Shlomo Yitzchak shares how he changed his mind. His story is much more interesting than mine, and he's much more eloquent telling it. He mentions how he was taught to fear Palestinians. An automatic thought, "If I go with you, you'll kill me." I was taught this too. I was taught that, if I'm in a taxi, I should be looking at the driver's name. And if that name is Arab, I should watch the road and the route he's taking, to be prepared in case he wants to take me somewhere to kill me. Just a random person trying to work. For years it stayed a habit, I'd automatically look at the driver's name. Even after knowing that I want to align myself with liberation, justice, and equality. It was a process of unlearning.

On October, not long after the current escalation of violence, I had to take a taxi again. A Jewish driver stopped and told me he'll take me, "so an Arab doesn't get you." Israeli Jews are so comfortable saying things like this to each other. My neighbors discussed a Palestinian employee, with one saying "We should tell him not to come anymore, that we want to hire a Jew." The second answered, "No, he'll say it's discrimination," like it would be so ridiculous of him. And the first just shrugged, "So we don't have to tell him why." They didn't go through with it, but they were so casual about this conversation.

In the Torah, we're told to treat those who are foreign to us well, because we know what it's like to be the foreigner. Fighting back against oppression is the natural human thing to do. We know it because we lived it. And as soon as I looked at things from this angle, it wasn't really a choice of what to support.

[dissapointu]

“Lazy Mornings With Vi”

The soft rays of sunlight gently filter through the curtains, illuminating the room with a warm glow. The clock on the nightstand ticks away, but you’re in no rush. You stretch lazily under the covers, still lost in the comfort of the bed and the quiet morning. For you, mornings are about taking your time, savoring the softness of the sheets and the slow, peaceful start to the day. You’d rather sleep in than rush through the morning hustle.

Vi, on the other hand, has never been one to sleep in. As someone who’s always on the move, she’s usually the first to rise, ready to face the day head-on. But today, as you snuggle deeper into the pillows, you hear a soft chuckle beside you. You turn your head to find her lying next to you, her black hair tangled and wild, but there’s a playful smile on her face.

“Still not up?” she teases, her voice hushed but warm. She’s clearly amused, but there’s no judgment in her tone. “Guess I’ll just have to keep you company while you’re being lazy.”

You smile softly, closing your eyes for a moment, already feeling the pull of sleep again.

“I’m in no rush,” you murmur, your voice still heavy with sleep. “Mornings are meant for relaxing.”

Vi rolls onto her side, her body turning toward you. She props herself up on her elbow and watches you, her expression softening as she takes in the sight of you all bundled up in the blankets. The way you seem so content to just be, so unbothered by the early hour, has a certain charm to it that she can’t help but admire.

“Lucky you,” she says, grinning playfully. “I wish I could sleep in like you. But my body’s wired to wake up early. Maybe I could learn your ways, though…”

She reaches out and gently tugs the blankets over herself, snuggling closer to you as if she wants to join in your world of lazy mornings. Her head rests on your chest, and you can feel the warmth of her body seeping through the fabric of your clothes. The slight weight of her on top of you is comforting, and for a moment, the world outside of the room fades away.

Vi’s fingers trace light patterns along your side as she settles in. “I could definitely get used to this,” she murmurs, her voice much softer now. “If it means I get to stay here with you.”

You chuckle softly, the sound vibrating in your chest. Her presence is grounding, and the idea of spending the morning together without any obligations or pressures feels perfect.

“Why not? We could skip the whole ‘getting up early’ thing today. I’m sure the world can wait a little longer.”

Vi lifts her head slightly, her bright purple eyes meeting yours. There’s a playful glint in them, but beneath it, there’s something tender. “You’re a bad influence,” she says with a wink, but there’s no real reproach in her tone. If anything, her smile only grows wider.

“I think you’re starting to like it,” you tease, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Her grin widens, and she presses a soft kiss to your chest, her lips lingering there for a moment. “Maybe I am,” she admits, a hint of affection in her voice.

The minutes slip by as you both lie there, the quiet intimacy of the moment settling over you. Vi’s body relaxes against yours, and you can feel the tension in her shoulders slowly melting away, her usual restless energy subdued for now.

It’s a rare moment, this—when both of you, with your different routines and habits, can just be still together. No missions, no fights, just the warmth of each other’s company. Vi might be more used to being up and active, but with you, she’s learning how to appreciate the quiet, unhurried moments that make life feel a little more grounded.

Eventually, the day beckons, but for now, you stay in bed, the world outside forgotten for a while longer. You’re content, and for once, so is she—simply lying together, enjoying the peace of a lazy morning.

[chastiefoul]

jjk men coming home and finding you crying

ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji fluff and comfort

gojo satoru

you wiped your eyes quickly as you heard the door opened. you took a deep breath, making sure your voice didn’t come as shaky as you said, “welcome home, toru.” with a big grin and the usual paper bag filled with sweets on his right hand he planted a kiss on your head. “i’m home baby.”

you were just about to let out a sigh of relief when satoru suddenly knelt in front of you who’s on the couch, blindfold off as his blue eyes stared as if seeing right through you. “what’s wrong?” he said softly, his knuckles brushing over your cheek with such a careful gesture. “what do you mean?” you tilted your head, cringing inside at the bad feign. “you can’t fool my six eyes, baby. also what kind of boyfriend i’ll be if i can’t even notice when my girl is sad?”

you tried to form a sentence to say as an excuse but the kisses he peppered across your face wasn’t really helping. you chuckled as you whine softly, “toruu.” the white-haired man cupped your face, a gorgeous smile on his face. “my favorite sound, baby,” he said, kissing your lips. “tell me? pleaseeee.” you laughed once more at his emphasis at the last word. “it’s really nothing, toru.”

“i love listening to nothing. we even have some sweets here as snacks,” he said, opening the paper bag excitedly. “i think you just want an excuse to eat it at 8 pm,” you raised an eyebrow, as he grinned. “nonsense, baby. now c’mere, let me hold you while you tell your story.” he put you between his legs, your back resting on his broad chest comfortably. you sighed out of wonderment, thinking how you could be so lucky, being this loved by the man.

“here, pick whatever. this one is my favorite,” he rummaged through the bag that’s on your lap. you looked at him with fondness as his face leaned in beside you to see better. “yeah? you’ll give me your favorite?”

“there’s nothing in the world that you can’t get, baby.” he kissed the side of your face. “now start from the very beginning.”

geto suguru

“if you thought you were doing a great job hiding those tears i have some news for you sweet girl,” geto’s voice was gentle on your ear as he wipe the wet residue underneath your eyes with the inner sleeve of his robe. “i wasn’t really hiding it,” you frowned, somehow not liking the fact that he noticed your little moment of weakness. “yeah? so you were just rubbing your eyes all rough like that for no reason?” he gave you a little smile.

yeah, it was a battle you had lost from start.

he put his arms around you, rubbing your back in a soothing pattern. “what’s wrong baby, everything okay?” you melted right into his touch, resting your head on his chest right on the calming beating of his heart. “yeah, it’s not really a big deal,” you mumbled, your low spirit was really affecting him more than he would ever let you know. his hand kept moving as he once again kissed the side of your head, a low chuckled escaped him. “you’re cute when you think you have a choice on telling me what had upset you.”

you laughed softly at his playfulness, knowing full well to you’ll end up telling your boyfriend everything. “you’re right. but can i tell you later?” you asked, wanting just this peaceful moment to last just a little longer as you held him tight.

“’course baby, got all the time in the world for you.”

nanami kento

nanami already knew that something was off when the house felt a little quiet as he arrived. and then he found you hunched over as you stood behind the kitchen counter. “honey?” you wiped your eyes with what you thought was the speed of sound but it was clear to both of you that you had been crying. “hi ken, how was work?” you replied with a small voice, a smile nanami didn’t particularly like plastered on your face; only because it seemed forced.

“oh no, we’re not breezing past it. come here my love.” and his embrace enveloped you like a dream, all warm and perfect. he stroke your hair ever so softly as he whispered sweet nothings. when you calmed down a little he sneaked a hand under your jaw, rubbing his thumb on your cheek gently, a gesture with amount of love you could only guess. “what’s wrong, hm?” he questioned you, his eyes shone with adoration; there’s only you in that moment.

“i’m okay, ken. more importantly aren’t you tired from work?” there’s a deep crease between the blond’s man eyebrows he heard you say this, as if that was the most offensive thing he had ever heard from you. “’more importantly?’ there could be nothing that’s more important than you, dear,” he said, knowing that concern was from a good place, like he was worrying over you, of course you would fuss over him who just came home from work.

“still…” you hesitated, but he kissed it out of you quickly. “want me to prepare you a bath, love? you know i can get the perfect temperature for you,” he whispered, coaxing you. and he was right, even sometimes he would get it right more often than you. before you could even mumble out another excuse he continued. “and while you do that i’ll prepare dinner, okay? i’m sure there’re still some ingredients left to make that nice meal you like.”

“no, i couldn’t possibly let you do all the work ken-“

“love, i’m here. you can relax, okay? you always do so much for me, let me do this for you,” he reassured you, cupping your face as he trailed your cheeks with soft kisses. you’re still not convinced, as he smiled over your great concern. “do this for me, please?” he tried once more and there’s no way you could refuse that. you nodded, feeling another wave of tears coming out of gratitude for your boyfriend., “thank you ken, i love you so much.”

“i love you too. and when you’re ready to talk, i’m here okay? always.”

toji fushiguro

he lifted you up, your leg instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist as he grabbed both of your thighs to support you. you tighten the hold of your arms around his neck, resting your head on your shoulder, nuzzling closer to his neck; not wanting him to see your post-crying face.

he sat you on the kitchen counter, putting both of his hands on the hard surface, on either side of your body practically refraining you to run away. “what’s wrong pretty girl?” he asked you who’s currently staring at the fingers on your lap as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. he kissed your shoulder blade, intentionally lingering a little long to hopefully calm your nerves. “nothing, i guess,” you answered nonchalantly, like detaching yourself. “you’re shit at lying babe, you know that right? look at the frown that you’re wearing right now, it’s almost touching the floor,” he said as he kissed your neck next. “mean,” you meant to frown, and you realized you were already doing that for the past hour. fine, maybe he had a point, so what?

“nah, what’s mean is when my girl won’t even tell me what made her upset,” he said, tilting his head confidently, his big hand on your waist as he rubbed your side. the look on his face was enough to make you relent. “fine… you’ll force it out of me sooner or later anyways,” you mumbled as he smiled, knowing that you needed a little push is all to sound your worries. “atta girl.”

“tell me all ‘bout it yeah? don’t leave out a single detail. then maybe if you’re up for it, i can show you that i got many ways to cheer you up,”

[nemesyaaa]

losing my religion // dark!cult leader!rafe x innocent!reader

summary ; god loves you but not enough to save you.

warnings : mentions of religions. manipulation. cult. smut. corruption kink. small town church trope. religious trauma. purity/innocence kink. slight of god complex. first time. dark/soft!rafe. mentions of murder. sweet lamb trope. coercion. smoking. little age gap. heaven goal. mentions of size kink. glorification. be careful with the warnings. minors DNI.

author's note : it's around 5k words. pfiouuuu. televangelism by ethel cain playing in the background please.

“ father, will i go to heaven ? ”

“ father, will i be this good all my life ? ”

“ father, where was god when i thought he was there ? ”

“ father, did god let me sin on purpose ? ”

you lived in a small remote village, the kind of town where everyone knew each other, and where there were no secrets. well, you thought there were no secrets because everyone here was a true and firm believer. all the locals lived for god. and you would do anything for him and for your ticket to heaven. you had been baptized as a baby and had grown up as a child of the lord, and his most faithful angel. you have acted so well since your childhood and were sure that your death will be a pleasant trip to paradise.

you went to church every day because you always had something to say to god, to ask him, to make him understand. you prayed to speak to him, for him to see you, for him to hear you, for him to know how grateful you were for the life he had given you. your parents had always recommended that you cherish your existence, but also everything that happened to you, the misfortunes as well as the pleasures. life was neither all rosy, nor all white, nor gray or black. you were the only person to give it color. so your religious sister told you that you just needed to know how to paint, but that sometimes you would fail, you would fail but that it didn't matter. because you will make a masterpiece again sooner or later.

you were a devoted child, a faithful lamb with no anger inside, but above all full of love. you gave it to everyone when god had taught you and commanded you to share it as much as possible, that it was this feeling that would bring peace on earth. and who did not want peace, who did not want to please his creator? you were a good girl, so sweet and innocent, the kind sweetheart of the town, incapable of harm or sin, always dressed in your white dress and your little black shoes. you wear everything that can please god. you walked through the church hallway to join the choir, holding the candles. the world had his eyes on you, but especially this tall man lodged in the dark corner.

this man was not god and you knew it, because god would never look at you that way.

you wouldn't know how to describe this gaze on you, but it made you uncomfortable. you continued to move forward, holding the flame preciously against you. you sang with your angelic voice, glory to the almighty, glory to the one who made your existence so beautiful, to bring your back to life every time you felt, and this guy was still staring at you like you were the only person that existed, like the world had taken away the entire universe except you.

maybe you were an angel. after all, you were among the Lord's faithful.

you had never dated a man in your life. your parents and god forbid you, because you needed to stay pure for the good one. you had to remain virgin and clean for your future husband. you were forbidden to look at them, touch them or talk to them except for church activities. you were so loved by god so you had no right to sin, no fucking right to betray him. you had to remain as intact as the mother of everyone, as virgin mary.

you were as holy as the bible, the treasure of the creator. you were devoted like a lamb to his owner, as the followers to the cult leader.

you had never experienced something like touching yourself, making yourself feel good, and anything that included carnal pleasures. you didn't know about pornography, sexuality and lust. you walked away from it as if it were the devil. you were unable to make your god mad, you were too scared for that.

you were faithful to the lord. you helped the people of the village, homeless, the destitute, poor children, the elderly, you helped the world become a better place even when it seemed to be turning against you.

at the end of the mass, everyone, the priest had sent you to collect the funds from the locals.

you were standing in front of the steps. people were always kind and smiling to you as you were collecting funds for the church.

and you had been waiting for this voice to come at you.

“do you really want to go to heaven ? ”

you turned to face the man from earlier, the one hidden in the benches. you answered him with the sweetest smile, and the most nervous look. "yes, i do everything to go there. am i not good enough ? "

“everything?” the stranger had laughed kindly, but it had offended you slightly with that soft giggle.

“ why are you laughing ? this is not funny. ”

“ slow down, baby. you're too pretty to get on your nerves. ” he had pulled out a cigarette.

“will you forget God for a second and be an angel to me ? ”

“ God is in my heart, is in me. i can't forget him, even for a second. he's the reason why i'm living. ”

“ be sweet, angel and light it for me. don't say no, your divine father is watching you, you don't want him to catch you refusing to help a stranger and be mad at you? ” you looked at him with strange open eyes but you accepted. because he was right.

you didn't know how to say no to people. God didn't teach you to say no. people needed to help the people.

you lit his cigarette, and during the whole process he looked at you, his glare scanned your face. you were staring at him, and saw your own silhouette in his eyes, your shadow dancing in the perfect blue of his pupils.

you felt the heat in your cheeks, the burn of his gaze on your skin. you were unwell. you didn't like this situation, the unsteady feeling, the stranger proximity.

when you met him, you felt like a sinner more than a believer.

but he smiled at you. the soft kind of smile that made you forget everything, that made you feel so dumb.

“would i go to heaven now?” you teased him with a small laugh to echo his words.

“not yet but i can help you if you want if you're serious about that.” he answered.

“ i'm serious. ” you were really curious, and he had your full attention. you knew it wasn't good to talk for that long with a man. especially, older. but you took the risk.

you should have stopped when he complimented you because your parents said that men who are nice to girls like you always have bad intentions. but there was also something so charming and bewitching about this man. the way he was adorable. you didn’t see the evil in him.

“i really want to go to heaven, i swear on my life, sir. ”

“ sir ? such a polite thing but i'm not that old, sweetheart. i'm tall, not too old. ”

“ anyways, i really want to go to heaven !! ”

“you already said it, doll. i think God is tired of hearing it now. he wants proof, you know. he needs to see how devoted you are to him. ”

“how can i prove it to him?”

"i know God. i talk to him every day. i am his ruler. do you know what that means? that i am the one who decides for him whether people go to heaven or not. i am his most loyal servant, so he trusts me.”

“are you really connected to God?”

"you are too. we all are but the difference is that i can take you to heaven. i promise you." he placed his hand on your cheek, caressing it gently , a tender and unique gesture that made you shyly smile. “i’m not an angel. not yet.”

"yes, i assure you. i knew it as soon as i saw you in that church. join me." he announced with a warm voice.

“you have always been divine, i never doubted it. you have to go to heaven, you understand? you can't behave so well, be so charitable and disappoint God? and you wouldn't dare doing it, don't you, pretty lamb ? because do you think he will forgive you ? no, sweetheart. you will be punished and rejected like every sinners. ”

“ you're wrong ! God loves me ! ”

“you don't understand. you must be perfect until the end, you must be a great god masterpiece, not his biggest failure. you can't just be the chorus of this choir, be the beautiful thing who holds the candles at mass, the kind soul who helps others. you can't be just that when i can offer you even better and absolutely everything you want. any of your wishes. join me and i will make all your wishes come true, i will make you the new face of the paradise. i will make God see you everywhere. ”

"it seems so unreal...i don't know..."

he had cut you. he didn't want to give you time to think, leaving room for the barrier of doubt."you have to join me, isn't that what you wanted? for me to find you? if you believe in god, you have to be a good girl, make the right choices. "

“okay….” you finally agreed.

he waited for you in his car, one hand on the steering wheel. and you joined him inside. there was so much euphoria in you. you felt like you were doing something so right, so you had this goofy smile on your face.

"does God think i'm a good believer ? i pray every day, i attend mass every time, i sing in the choir and in my rooms all the songs dedicated to him. i only have the Bible as a book and i read it all the time. i can't do anything wrong. i'm good, i promise, i'm good. ”

"is that true? you'll have to show me so I can tell."

“I’m going to pray for you too.” you added. “I pray for all the souls in this world.”

“oh yes my angel will pray for me. i want to hear your prayers, all your prayers about me. but not in front of me. "

“ why ? ”

“ seeing you bent on your knees for me will make me sin. i wish you could see the kind of temptation you are. ”

you had arrived in front of a mansion. you were so flustered and nervous. you didn't understand what you were doing in front of this place, and why he had brought you here. he took your hand, reassuring you with his touch, and guided you inside.

you were not alone. there were other people, women and men. all dressed slightly the same, as if there was a regulation outfit. the atmosphere was strange, a little sectarian. there was an organ playing in the background, and everyone was looking at you kindly so you tried to relax.

"don't be afraid. they're like you, they just want to go to heaven. can you understand?"

you nodded and he showed you around all the places. he even showed you a room and said it would be yours. she was pretty, absolutely perfect but she wasn't yours. not that of your house.

"I'm not going home?..."

"what do you mean? this is your home now. we're a family."

"a family? i have parents, they will worry…”

"i thought you wanted to be close to God. were they lies? you know, you shouldn't joke with religion, and with words. if you want to be a good little christian, if you want to go to heaven, it is to me, and only to me, that you must be devoted.”

"I...I...no, i promise! I'm sincere! i'm sorry, really, I'm sorry. " you now felt terrible. there were so many tears in your eyes, you couldn't even see the room clearly.

the man smiled before taking you in his arms. "it's nothing, you just need to be clearer with your words, okay? I'm your only savior, you don't need others.”

he had wiped the tears from your cheeks. “I have a gift for you…” he whispered and you found your smile again.

no one ever gave you gifts. it was so rare. “open it” he told you.

it was a dress. not the one you usually wore. “you have to put it on. don't you want to shine, shooting star ? ”

" now ? "

"now." his voice was a little firmer.

“i can’t change in front of you…” you admitted. "you're a man...and I'm a girl...it's sinful, it's like having sex! we have to get married to have that intimacy. "

he smiled and laughed. "you've never been naked in front of someone? you've never left this body in front of someone else?"

he had approached, slipping up behind you, towering over you with his height, his hands resting on the corners of your trembling shoulders.

“my sweet thing, it’s as if you’re begging me to corrupt you.”

“what do you mean?”

“that i must see this body.”

" Is it bad?"

“What would be bad, angel, would be to upset me.”

he had pulled the tab of your dress to lower it a little. there were shivers in your body. you felt like you were doing something wrong.

"you're not doing anything wrong. this is what god wants you to do. he told me."

" It's true ? "

“ only the truth. just now. i wouldn't dare lying to you, my sweet. ”

there was nothing you could refuse god. If it were his will, you would do anything.

"but I've never done anything like that? I always thought it was wrong, that I didn't have the right."

he pulled your dress down to the floor, your naked body revealed in the mirror. you could feel his gaze growing more intense as he took in everything you had shown him. "is my body okay? I mean, this is the first time anyone has seen it so..."

"sweetheart, I've never seen anything so beautiful. but I don't just have to see it to judge it, I have to touch it. will you let me ? "

“Lust is a sin.”

“do you want to know my name?”

you had just now realized that you didn't even know his identity. you nodded your head.

“rafe.” he spelled it. “ you must know my name to pray for me, but also to glorify me.”

“glorify ?”

"you must glorify me. salute me and worship me. these are the rules if you want to go to heaven. you must be devoted, I told you.."

" fine…”

he sat on the bed, and you moved closer but he stopped you.

"no, no. all this sweetness but no useful brain ? ” he mocked. “ to worship me, you must be on your knees. ” he said, crossing his arms on his chest.

“ treat me as the same way you treat your god, angel. because this is what i am to you. i want to see your legs bow down for me, i want to see them treading the ground up to me. i want to see that precious look at the same height of my knees, let me see that head lifted up to glory me. "

he had lit a cigarette, the fourth since you had spoken, and had smiled when you started walking on your knees towards him.

he pressed his hand against the growing bulge in his pants.

“open your mouth.” he commanded and you obeyed, and he slipped his cigarette between your lips. “don’t smoke it, hold it only. don't go against my rules. can i trust this dumb baby brain for once to not disappoint me ? ”

he had taken off his pants, with his boxers. and you turned your head, strongly ashamed by his action.

he mocked gently. “in your place, i would not look away, that would avoid unpleasant surprises when this thing will be buried inside your virgin cunt, sweetheart. ”

he had retrieved his cigarette, and turned your head towards him.

"I can't believe you've never seen one. you've been such a good girl to me. you've been waiting for me. "

“will god hate me?”

“how can i show it to you?”

"it's not god you have to fear, it's me, sweetheart because I'm the only one who will decide for you from now on. do you understand? I have to be sure that you are deserving."

“give me your hand. let me guide you...do you trust me? ”

“ i trust you, rafe. ”

he had positioned your hand on his cock which was already hard. you shivered. your hand was clumsy around his painfully boner. yet you had heard him let out a grunt.

his fingers moved with yours, accompanying you in his lewd movements. you had god in your head, heart and body but your fingers fisted around that thick dick made you warm and good. you hated that feeling, but you can't deny the pleasure. it was the first time. you weren't used to it. you moved back and forth with little confidence, while he kept your grip around his bulge. you followed his back and forth, pumping him with fragility. you weren't sure if it felt good but his muscles had tightened.

your fist slid over his length, your hand working massively. your touch was divine, he threw his head back. you could feel his abs twitching in synch.

“open those legs. let me see that sweet untouched pussy. i'm gonna take such good care of it. are you still trusting me ? ”

“ yes…”

you didn't want to. it flowed between your thighs, the wetness spurted in a mess on the floor. and you weren't sure if that was a good thing. you couldn't tell if it was pleasure or not. it was new to you.

“trust me, you don’t want to make me repeat that a second time. do you ? ”

and that was enough for you to bend to his will.

"you feel, baby ? the sweet mess between your legs ? don't hide from me. ”

you continued to masturbate him up and down. you turned him on so much that he already wanted to come in your hand. his cock twitched in your hold and his balls slapped repeatedly against his skin.

"does that make you feel good? do I need to do better? do you want me to put my lips on..."

he had cum on your face. and you stepped back in surprise. “let me clean you up…”

you came back to him thinking he was going to wipe you but he caught his seed with his fingers, and brought them to your mouth. “if you don’t want me to put them down your throat, you better lick them now.”

you lapped up every last bit of cum on his fingers until they turned white again. you knew he was serious when he threatened you. "that wasn't really a warning, I'll do it someday. I really want to use every part of your body. and you'll let me. yes ?”

“whatever you want...”

he smiled and stroked your hair. “you learn quickly.”

you didn’t really know why but his recognition made you happy. she had an impact on you. you needed, and sought, his validation. it promised you to be even closer to god, to show god that you were faithful to him.

you had this urgency to please rafe, to show him that you could be really good.

for rafe, you were another girl that he led into his cult, another lamb in the troop. you were perfect, you always had the profile. he knew it as soon as he saw you.

he had come to the church only to see you. he attended every mass and ceremony hoping to corrupt you. you were so innocent, so kind and so sweet, and above all, you were ready for anything.

you prayed every day and read the Bible. so you had a desire, a goal, a faith.

he had placed you on his legs, his hands caging your waist, wrapping each part of your hips. “I’m going to make you an angel.” he had said, rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet entrance.

“I’m going to go to heaven?”

"it's heaven that will beg for you to come to it, I can even say. but you still have to do one thing for me..."

“tell me. I’ll do anything.”

" good. i really want you to take that dick. show me how much you want to reach eden, i want to see god in you when i'm fucking you. i want to hear prayers in that mouth for how i make you feel, how perfect i am to you and that sweet cunt of yours.”

you rubbed your dripping pussy against his cock, feeling the feverish, leaking tip against your slick folds. you had gently entered him between your impenetrable walls until now, letting out a long and loud moan when you felt his dick getting even harder inside you. It took you several bounces on his thighs to get used to, your pussy stretching around him. you could feel every inch of his length filling your canal but also widening it.

his large hands covered your ass, gripping the gummy flesh of your cheeks, his body moving and following your movements. he had grabbed your face to force a kiss from your already open lips, sliding his tongue against yours. a drool dripped from your jaw, as your pelt slammed and bounced violently against his. your hands were around his neck, trying to keep up the pace.

seeing you struggling and jiggling, he laughed. “even if you had prayers, you couldn’t even say them, too fucking dumb for that shit, right now ? ”

and it was true, you weren't even able to say a word without gurgling. you had tears streaming down your face, your moans were locked against rafe's glossy and pretty mouth, and you were trying hard to take his big cock as best you could. his dick was stuck between your sticky walls, your breasts hitting her toned chest.

“keep going, you’re perfect…” his smile was evil because it motivated you.

you were riding him without even being able to think. you were a fragile little thing doing bad things with a bad guy.

but you wanted to please him. you wanted rafe cameron to think you were good and deserving. you wanted to go to heaven, so you did your best.

and he knew it. you had broken your purity for him.

you were convinced to do something right, convinced that god saw you and that he would be proud to see you so devoted to him.

you didn’t see the harm. you were an angel and you let a demon corrupt you.

you had succumbed to man and his vices, you had let sin enter into you, and let it do you good.

rafe knew what he was doing. you had been his prey. and he couldn't wait to see you at his feet, to make you his perfect doll that he could handle so easily.

because it was only the beginning before you were completely his, completely in control of you, choosing what you eat, what you want, what you wear, what you think.

you were his and his only.

you were his nice girl, not god's one, the one who smiled at everyone, who always prayed in the church pews, who helped those most in need.

he had found you and snatched you from god. because it wasn't him to whom you owed your life. you were wrong and he had to correct that.

you were an angel, and he loved seeing you cry for him. your tears was made for being looked by his ocean eyes, to felt loved by his kisses.

he was completely buried inside you, plunged so deep that you were completely dizzy. and every time you thought he couldn't go any further, he surprised you. you were pretty sure he could put a baby inside you right now, just from the way his cock thrusted inside you, invading your shaking body.

you had squirted and cried, accompanying your tears with apologies. "you're fine. it's just means you liked it. it will also happen to me, angel. don't worry.”

the more he called you angel, the more you began to believe that you were one. you had squirted again but now you weren't scared anymore because he had reassured you. you had been afraid that it would be a disgusting thing and that he wouldn’t want you anymore.

but it was so strange. he was both gentle and cold.

“stop...I’m going to be pregnant!”

"that's not how it works...but if that's what you want, I can take care of it...whatever the angel wants.”

after that day, your life had been totally different, completely transformed by rafe.

you were part of this community now. you were all brothers and sisters, united for a common goal. you always prayed. but above all, you were completely manipulated. you were so controlled that you forgot your family, your friends, your entourage, your involvement in church. only god remained with you. he was still there.

you wore the outfits rafe wanted you to wear, you ate the food he wanted, you only talked about topics he allowed, you became someone else. you were what he wanted you to be.

but one night you heard god. you were sure it was his voice in the darkness. you were sleeping in rafe cameron’s arms, his bicep resting on your stomach. it was strange to see him sleeping like a child when he behaved like that.

you had begun to follow god’s voice in the darkness, your feet pacing and pacing through the empty hallways. the light guided you, it was he who accompanied you. he pulled you out, into the huge garden.

“do you think you can leave? do you think you can leave me ? are you that fucking dumb ? ”

Rafe’s voice made you jump. you weren't sure if you woke him up because you were a quiet person. but now he was in front of you, and he really didn't look very happy.

"I have to leave..."

“I’m afraid you can’t.”

“god spoke to me.”

"oh really? god may be talking to you but you need to listen to me. aren't you grateful for the life i gave you? didn't you want to be good? you're tear up your ticket to paradise. just bury yourself alive at this point."

tears had started to fall down your cheeks. you felt trapped because you didn't know who to listen to. god or this man?

your feet moved towards rafe. as you approached, his arms stretched out as if to reassure you.

“i’m sorry….i'm really sorry…..”

“i know you are but you also know that it’s not enough.”

“so tell me what i need to do to be good enough? ”

“you must sacrifice yourself. ” he said with that deep serious tone.

you looked at him with fear. you couldn't kill yourself.

“ i can’t kill myself, rafe…”

“i know, angel but don't worry, i will. ”

“ what do you mean ? i always did what you wanted me to do, i always been so good to you, i never be against you and your rules ! you promised me heaven, you promised me....everything. was that a lie ? you 'ever be serious to me ? answer me...never ? rafe, i was all what you wanted me to be, even that was not enough for you ? ”

“ i really wish you were. any last word, baby? ”

“ can you at least shoot me in the heart ? ”

“ tell me why...”

“ it's the last part of me you never took away from me. but now that i will die, you can take it. it's all yours. ”