#there’s been one in the oak tree outside and I personally love it

[ssour-apathyy]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ signed, with love

hockey player!vi x basketball player!caitlyn x cheerleader!reader, fluff, secret love messages, pining, reader is lowk a dumbass, use of y/n

word count; 1,899

summary; as valentines day approaches, you start to receive anonymous declarations of love, only to find out they're sent by the last people you'd suspect

a/n; happy valentines day!! this is my little gift to you all, and i hope you enjoy. i'm gonna go ahead and claim that it's a bit awkward because they're high-schoolers and NOT because i don't know how to write stuff like this jdhfsjhfdj

It was the week before Valentine's Day at Piltover High, and the excitement buzzing through the air was almost palpable. The annual holiday event was in full force, where students were able to send love themed cards to each other, be it anonymous or not.

The hallways were abuzz with giggles and murmurs as students speculated who had sent them cards, who might send them cards, and the reactions of those they had sent them to. Everybody seemed to be deep in the tradition, well, everybody except for you.

You weren't insanely popular, but you weren't not popular. A nice middle ground, some may say. You had been on the cheer squad for a year now, which naturally meant you were higher up on the pyramid of social status compared to the rest of the student body. This wasn't the problem, the problem was that you just weren't interested in anybody.

You told yourself it was a mixture of nobody being interesting enough, and just not having enough time to pursue anybody. If you weren't doing anything cheer related, you were studying. If you weren't doing either of those things, you were spending time with Caitlyn and Vi.

Caitlyn- easily the most popular person at school. Captain of the basketball team, tall and beautiful, and just so nice. Not that fake, only doing this to keep up appearances, nice either, like actually nice. And then there's Vi- breakout star of the hockey team, a little rough around the edges, but so fucking hot. Together, they were the very top of the food chain, everybody's favourite couple, and absolutely unstoppable.

You had been friends with them for a few months now, when you had cheered at one of Caitlyn's games and she couldn't help but watch you the entire time. She just had to talk to you after the game was done, and Vi was on board immediately. All it took was one conversation and it was like you three had been friends for years, and suddenly were inseparable.

The three of you had lunch together every day. Vi would walk you to classes, Caitlyn would walk you to cheer practice, any spare time you had outside of school was almost always spent with them. People had tried to joke about you being their third wheel, but the look that Vi had sent their way had them promptly shutting their mouths. You didn't mind, though. Never at any point did you feel uncomfortable or left out, and you were happy to see your best friends so in love.

What you didn't know, however, is that both Caitlyn and Vi were absolutely smitten with you. Their feelings were small at first, like a small sprout popping up in Spring. That was until you had gone on a week vacation and they realised how much they missed you, and THEN you just had to go and bring them both home a gift- a basketball keyring for Caitlyn and a hockey stick one for Vi- and suddenly the small sprout was a grand oak tree and they just couldn't keep lying to themselves anymore.

They had a long talk between themselves, discovered that they were both on the same page, and started to plan how they would approach the subject. They cared too much to risk jeopardising your friendship by just springing it on you, so they knew that it had to be perfect.

── ⟢

Your eyebrows furrowed as the small card slipped out of your open locker door, fluttering to the ground in front of you. You slipped your textbooks into the locker before kneeling down to pick it up, turning it over in your hands as you stood back up. It was cute, a little doodle of a steaming coffee cup with 'Words cannot espresso how much you mean' written underneath. No name. You let out a soft chuckle and a little shake of your head as you slipped the card into your bag, and didn't think much of it. Probably just one of the girls on the cheer squad sending them to the team.

And then there was another.

'If I could start my life over again, I would find you sooner so that I could love you longer ♡'

"What the fuck.." you mumbled, looking around you to the other students filling the hallway, trying to see if anybody was looking suspicious. Nobody had ever shown an interest in you, not really, so to start suddenly getting valentine's cards was surprising to say the least.

Every day up until the 14th, there was a new card waiting for you. Every day they seemed to get more and more personal, and there was no doubt in your mind that they were meant for you and you alone. The girls on the cheer squad had no idea about it, but they were fawning over the cards that you had gotten, studying each one carefully. When you tried to ask Caitlyn and Vi, they had played it beyond cool.

"Wow, seems you've got yourself a secret admirer, huh? You sure you've not been out there flirting up a storm when we're not around?" Vi had teased you, causing your cheeks to burn as you snatched the card from her with a scoff.

"You don't recognise the handwriting?" Caitlyn had queried, even though it was no use. The messages in anonymous cards were written by the students handing them out for this very reason.

You got the final card on Valentine's day, and although it was the most simple and, well, least romantic, it still caused your stomach to do flips.

'Gym, after school today.'

── ⟢

Being on school grounds after hours was always slightly uneasy. The hallways were silent, your own footsteps echoing along the empty expanse of the building. You stood in front of the doors to the gym, heart racing as you wiped your palms on your jeans and shook the shake out of your hands. With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, and pushed the doors open.

The lights were off, the only source of light in the open room was coming from multiple candles scattered around the floor. In the middle of them was a picnic blanket with a hamper sat neatly on it, a couple of plastic cups tucked beside it. Both Vi and Caitlyn were sat on the bleachers behind, chatting away to each other before the sound of the door closing behind you caught their attention.

"Oh... uh, hi guys" you drawled, voice laced with confusion as you quickly checked over your shoulder before taking a few tentative steps towards them. "Sorry... I didn't mean to interrupt."

Caitlyn stood up, her varsity jacket hanging off her shoulders as she hopped off the bleachers to approach you. "You're not interrupting, don't worry. You're right on time, actually."

That increased your confusion tenfold, and it must have shown perfectly on your face as you watched Caitlyn busy herself with pouring drinks, because Vi's soft laughter was suddenly reverberating through the empty hall.

"Y'know, for somebody with your grades, you aren't all that smart sometimes" she teased, coming up to rest a hand on your shoulder as Caitlyn passes you both a cup of soda.

"Wha- but I don't-"

Your fingers wrap tightly around the plastic cup in your hand as the realisation hits you, and your eyes bounce between the two girls. Vi has a cocky smirk on her face as she sees the gears in your head turning, whereas Caitlyn looks a little nervous as she sips her drink, arms crossed over her chest.

"You sent those cards?"

"We did" Vi affirms, her hand squeezing your shoulder lightly. "Cait said the puns were too cheesy, but I think you liked them anyway, hm?"

You watched as Caitlyn rolled her eyes, even though a hint of a smile was ghosting on her lips. "We had been thinking of how to approach the subject with you for a while, and well, this seemed like the perfect opportunity."

You nodded, eyes flitting down to the picnic blanket on the floor. "And... you did all this.. for me?" you asked quietly, your voice hesitant and still coated with disbelief. Caitlyn took your free hand in hers and gently guided you to the blanket, sitting you down on top of one of the pillows as she sat in front of you, Vi doing the same to your side.

"Of course we did. You're special, Y/n. We care about you a lot, and-" she cuts herself off, playing with your fingers that she's still holding in her hand. "We were hoping you'd feel the same."

Vi clears her throat and shuffled a little closer, lifting a finger to your chin so she can turn your head to look at her. "What Cait is trying to say, is that we like you as more than a friend. This is our way of showing you that, and asking if you want to be something more."

Your heart stopped in your chest, and a warmth had spread across your face as you let everything sink in. It was like being doused in ice-water, the realisation that you did, in fact, feel the same way about them. Your lack of a love life wasn't because you were busy, or because nobody interested you. It's because they had already filled that hole in you, you just hadn't thought about it long enough to see it.

"Wow, I- honestly had no idea" you breathed out, your words coated in an airy laugh. "I mean, looking back at it, of course it seems obvious this is where it headed."

The three of you shared a laugh at that, and you lifted your free hand away from Caitlyn's to rub the back of your neck sheepishly.

"I don't want it to change anything though, not really. I mean, yeah, obviously things will change-" You blush at the thought of kissing them. "-but it won't get like.. weird or anything right?"

The two girls shared a look and set down their drinks, Vi gently taking yours out of your hand too, shuffling closer to you so they were sat on either side.

"Nah, not weird at all" Vi murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"We won't do anything you don't want to, love. We'll take it at the pace you want" Caitlyn affirms, her voice soft yet strong.

They both lean forward and press a soft kiss to your cheeks, and you let your eyes flutter closed as the feeling of being sandwiched between them. For the first time in a long time, you had never felt as at peace.

"Okay then" you whisper into the space in front of you. "I feel the same way, so.. I think we should give it a shot."

"Yeah, sweetheart? Wanna be our girlfriend?" Vi questions in that teasing tone that you love to hate, her lips grazing against your cheek as she speaks. You just nod in response, both girls crushing you in a bone tight hug as relief washes over them.

"Now then" Caitlyn starts after a moment of the three of you basking in each other. She pulls away only to flip the lid of the basket, pulling out various different snack items. "I prepared this specially, and we have a valentine's picnic to dig into."

[giuseppe-yuki]

come over, baby!

rancher!oscar piastri x city girl!reader

w.c.: 4.3k

warnings: curse words, heavy allusions to sex, a little bit of ooc!oscar

summary: oscar sneaks you onto his family's ranch. it doesn't go as smoothly as he planned.

a/n: merry christmas to those who celebrate! :) i know i haven't uploaded a real fic in a hot sec so i decided to whip this up real quick!

picture credits from pinterest :)

your trusty mini cooper gives a sharp beep as it locks behind you. its taillights flashes bright, causing the branches of the surrounding eucalyptus trees to cast a looming shadow over you and the dusty road. once the lights dim into nothing, you glance around the dark dirt driveway that was apparently the entrance to your boyfriend’s family’s ranch, according to the text from him on your phone.

you let out a sigh- you could have easily been snuggled up in your bed in your college dorm, facetiming him on your phone, but no- he decided that you should become a top secret spy and drive two hours to his conveniently “close” family ranch at 9pm on a tuesday evening and sneak into his bedroom on the first floor because he felt clingy and wanted to see you “in-person.” 

it honestly only took a few “no one will knowwww!” and a sprinkle of “come on, baby, pleaseeeeee i want to see youuu!” until you found yourself tiptoeing down the pitch black driveway towards the looming two story family ranch house that was seemingly where your boyfriend was located for fall break. anything for love, you suppose.

you squint your eyes at your phone’s bright screen depicting a lengthy message depicting exactly where to “break in” under the contact name “osc 💕” . park underneath the line of trees outside the metal gates- check. sneak through the broken fence three posts next to the main gates- check. walk down the dirt road towards the main house- currently doing so. 

the ranch house is stunningly pretty, with a big patio that housed a few well-worn rocking chairs, a spattering of wildflowers all around, and a big oak tree with a tire swing framing the whole thing. if you weren’t currently on a mission to break into the house itself to see your boyfriend, you would have stayed to admire for awhile.

you locate the window that your boyfriend mentioned further down in the text- the second one on the left side of the house without a window screen (he broke it playing cricket when he was 12, he said). bingo. it honestly wasn’t that hard to find, considering it was only one with the lights on on the first floor. 

sliding your phone, the only light source that you had, into your pocket, you curve your fingers underneath the window pane and slowly slide it up, making sure to make zero noise. 

the first thing you see when you maneuver yourself all sneakily through the window of the quaint little ranch house’s first-floor bedroom is decidedly not your boyfriend, with his swoopy brown-gold hair and polite-cat smile. instead, a pretty young woman with brown shoulder length hair, cowboy boots, and a silver belt in one hand stops and gapes at you on her way to exit the room. 

shit. 

“w-w-who are you?” she asks shakily, shuffling around the bed in the middle of the room and extending the silver belt in front of her like a weapon. she gives the air a few experimental slashes as if telling you- back off, i have a weapon.

you start to rethink your decisions. this was oscar’s house…right?

scrambling out of your awkward position sprawled halfway the window, you scoot nervously away from the rather dangerous-looking belt before speaking. 

“er, hi,” you say in the most non-threatening tone you can muster up after breaking and entering what you assume is this random lady’s house at an inappropriate time of night. 

she doesn’t even give you a chance to explain that this was all a misunderstanding before she yanks the door next to her open and gets ready to, most likely, call the police on you. 

however, before she is able to bolt out the door, a familiar boy steps into view in the doorway. 

oscar.

he takes a second to take in the situation- you standing awkwardly like that meme of robert pattinson in the kitchen, and the woman holding out the silver belt towards you in a menacing way- before he jumps into action. 

“okay…hattie- i can explain,” he exclaims to the woman, slamming the door closed behind him. oscar runs up between you and the still-stunned hattie, which you assume is his sister. 

“do not tell mom, but it’s just my girlfriend, okay?” he pleads. then, looking at the belt in hattie’s hand, he wrinkles his brow. “-and is that my belt?”

hattie hides the belt behind her. 

“um…no?”

with a single eyebrow raise from oscar, hattie sighs exasperatedly. 

“fine, yes, it is. i came into your room to get it for my outfit tomorrow when i caught your-” she peers around oscar,  “‘girlfriend’ literally breaking into our house!” 

“okay, pause!” your boyfriend says, scooting over to the left a little bit to block hattie’s view of you next to the wide-open window. “first of all, why would you take my belt without asking? second of all, she is not breaking into the house if i invited her in first, and third, again, please don’t tell mum.” 

hattie stares at her brother for a second, then peers over his shoulder to look at you, before crossing her arms. “al-right. i won’t tell- only if you do my night duty stuff for the ranch and i get to keep the belt.” 

your boyfriend doesn’t even hesitate before spitting a quick “okay, fine” before shoving his sister out of the room. 

“fuck. you. i. am. never. doing. that. again!” you whisper-shout at oscar, repeatedly smacking him with the hoodie you stripped off moments ago. screw his puppy-dog eyes and his oddly cute bunny-rabbit smile- you were never trusting him again. 

he laughs between the soft smacks from your college-logoed hoodie and pulls you towards him on the bed, effectively halting your attacks.  

“come on, baby!” he drawls, wrapping his arms around you. “it’s fine!”

your hoodie is abandoned on the side as he slides you towards him. your head automatically slots into the crook of his neck like it was made to be there, and you practically melt into his warm body, effectively dissolving the bigger part of your embarrassment and anger away. 

even when you purposefully cross your arms and face away from him after the hug, oscar knows he has already won the way from the fact that you still crawl underneath his blankets with him like you both always did in your dorm back at college. 

he prods you with a finger when you both are snuggled half-way in the blankets and you know that you can’t turn around to face him or else he’s going to press kisses to your face and then your “i’m a bit pissed” facade will surely be broken. you stay back-towards him, but then, he pulls out the ultimate weaponized piece of knowledge that he knows: your ticklish spots. oscar jams his fingers into your side, giggling, and pokes you until you have no choice to squirm back towards him. 

the way you wriggle around the bed ends up with you slotted underneath him. oscar gazes down at you, head tilted. you blink back at him slowly, watching how his brown eyes follow your tongue as you lick your chapped lips.

“you know,” he whispers in that lilting australian accent of his, “this is more what i was thinking we could do when i told you to sneak over into my room.”

“yeah?” you say, teasingly. “well, i’ll be glad to recreate whatever you are thinking of.”

a shy grin spreads across his face, and he sits up to strip his old faded sleeping shirt off his body. 

you just about salivate, seeing the sight of what you have seen what seems to be hundreds of times- his slightly muscular chest dotted with a constellation of stars that you loved to trace- either during a soft night curled on your dorm room bed, or when you lay, spent, on his chest after a lust-filled night.

before you can stop yourself, you reach out on instinct to trace your fingernail down his torso.

just a millisecond before your finger makes contact with his skin, footsteps sound outside his shut door, and the doorknob rattles, resulting in both of you to snap your heads towards the sound.

with some unbelievable reaction time that should probably get him a seat in formula 1, oscar shoves you underneath his stupid blue bedspread, and throws a couple comforters over your covered body- just in case.

are. you. joking. 

you were never trusting oscar again. what the hell were you gonna say to his parents if they found you underneath his blankets? there’s no way in hell they were gonna be easily persuaded like his sister was with a simple belt. what were you going to say? 

oh, i’m sorry mrs. piastri, for  breaking into your son’s bedroom at 9pm on a tuesday night because your son was feeling a bit frisky. 

absolutely not. you would rather die. 

instead, you settle for freezing as still as you can underneath the pitch-black insides of oscar’s pile of blankets and wait for what just be your impending doom.

the door squeaks as it opens, and you hear the scuffling of house shoes, then a pause. 

the person entering the room speaks first. 

“oscar.” a pause. “who were you talking to? and what- what are you doing with your shirt off? why are you kind of sweaty?”

you clock it as a female parental-type voice, which confirms your suspicions that- fuck- it’s probably his mother. 

your boyfriend shuffles nervously above you.

“mum, what?? talking? i wasn’t talking to anyone- i was talking to myself! also, you can’t just, like, break into my bedroom!” he exclaims a little too quickly. “you have to, like, knock! that’s an invasion of privacy!”

“wow, okay, calm down, oscar!” the woman’s voice shoots back. “why are you so defensive? i just heard voices, and i thought- maybe someone had broke in?” 

another pause.

“were you having some…” she trails off. “some- special alone time? a bit of oscar’s happy time?”

oscar’s mother’s insinuations hit both you and your boyfriend at the same time, and you can’t help but clap your hand over your mouth to muffle the laugh that was bubbling up in your throat.

your boyfriend lightly kicks you underneath the covers, which you could directly translate to shut up right now.

“special alone..?!” oscar stutters out, outraged. “no, mum, i was not having some special alone time! please! mum, i’m fine!”

“alright, alright,” his mother remarks, defeatedly. 

the scuffling sound heads towards the door, but stills before you can hear the door open. 

“by the way, your sister said that you were going to do her nighttime chores for her. i don’t know what kind of silly deal you guys struck up, but i expect it to be done by tomorrow, okay?” she adds.

“okay, okay, i got it, mum,” oscar replies hastily. 

“okey-dokey. goodnight, oscar!” his mother says brightly, before you hear the tell-tale sound of the door squeaking shut.

after oscar makes sure the door is completely closed and his mother’s footsteps have disappeared from his bedroom, he yanks his blankets off of you. 

the cool air flows over you, and you take a breath of fresh air. even if you only spent three minutes, tops, inside the stuffy blankets, it really felt like forever. you are sure your clothes are all rumpled from being squished underneath all that weight. 

“sorry, sorry, sorry,” your boyfriend repeats, grasping you and pecking a kiss to your cheek each time. “that was not part of the plan.”

“mhm,” you mutter back. you didn’t mind, honestly, you were just glad mrs. piastri didn’t notice the suspiciously college-girl shaped lump on her son’s bed. 

when oscar pulls off of you, he flashes you a devious grin. 

“you wanna..?” 

he uses his head to gesture towards the bed.

under normal circumstances, you would have thrown oscar to the bed and done multiple inappropriate things to him, but alas, 1) his mom coming in kind of killed the mood, 2) how could you, when his poor sister was likely, like, down the hall? and most importantly, 3) oscar had promised to do his sister’s chores, and you weren’t about to get mama piastri angry the next morning.

“oscar…” you say, trailing off. “don’t you have to do your, you know, chores?”

the gleam of mischievousness in your boyfriend’s eyes immediately falls flat, and his lips turn into a slight frown. 

letting out a rather exaggerated sigh, he slumps forward for a second before slinking towards the door. 

“leave my own mother to cockblock me…” he mutters, throwing on a black hoodie and green cap. 

you are about to let out a giggle, and pull him back on the bed for looking so cute being forlorn, but then, you realize, no, you have to be the voice of reason. 

“come on, oscar, i may be a city girl, but it can’t be that bad, right? i’ll be here all night!”

you are met with your boyfriend’s classic blank stare. 

“o-okay…what if…i went with you?” you suggest, reveling in the way that his gaze lights up.

“sneak out of the window, and meet me at the front of the house in 5,” he remarks, giving you a soft smile. 

what you expect to see at the front of the house is oscar with a shovel or whatever ranchers use to do their nightly chores, but instead, oscar waves at you from inside an entire fucking glowing atv. it has two seats, and entire mini flatbed trunk area, and to top it off, a covered clear canopy over the entire thing. and you thought the usual ranchers’ method of transportation was a freaking horse?? oscar’s family must have really modernized. 

you whisper a quick what-the-fuck before launching yourself into the atv next to your boyfriend. he flashes his usual bunny-rabbit smile at you, before fiddling with a few knobs on the front of the control panel. to your surprise, an entire heating unit starts blasting warm air towards you out of absolutely nowhere. 

huh??? when did atvs have heaters?? 

you don’t even have chance to formulate your thoughts before oscar starts revving the atv like he’s a freaking formula car driver and takes off into the darkness. 

even if you knew close to zero about being a rancher, you trail behind oscar to make sure he doesn’t half-ass his chores. the first task is checking the lights, which doesn’t seem too hard. 

your boyfriend basically speedruns around the barn that you arrive at, flicking at seemingly random places to turn on floodlights that surround the area. 

“for ‘safety’ reasons,” he had said when you asked. 

you take the time to do a 360 around the barn, noting the goats that glance at you curiously from their fenced off area outside in the chill night air. 

when oscar finishes sprinting around, he grasps your hand and leads you back towards the atv. 

“alright, back to my room!” he gasps breathlessly, as he starts the atv back up. 

your mind drifts to the poor goats outside. 

“er, oscar- are the goats supposed to be outside? i would think they deserve to be inside the barn, warm and toasty, no?”

your boyfriend freezes, hand halfway to the wheel. it’s obvious the cogs in his mind are turning. you blink at him once, before he groans and twists the key into the ‘off’ position for the atv. 

typically, you knew your boyfriend as someone who was really hard to irritate, but god, this was really doing a number on him.

oscar bolts toward the gated area that you saw earlier, and easily jumps the fence into the goat’s area. you can’t help but watch in wonder as he herds all the stubborn animals towards the barn’s entrance. most of the goats bleat at him once in annoyance before charging into the warmth of indoors, but you see a few stragglers still in the outdoor pen. a giggle bubbles up in your throat as you see a goat purposefully wedge itself between the fence and the water trough- just enough so oscar couldn’t reach him easily- leading to your boyfriend exclaim in frustration. 

it was funny- if you saw the shy, introverted oscar that was typically shown to others at the college that you both went to together, you were sure that they would have never guessed he was the type to get pissy, curse at goats, and shake his fist at the sky like an old grampa in the dark of night. 

while he was busy with the stubborn goat, you take the chance to climb over metal rungs of the fence and venture into the barn. it was quite cozy looking, with a thin layer of straw-like bedding covering the floor, round bales of hay lining the walls, and, of course, bunches of goats milling around. sitting on an overturned bucket, you watch as the cute goats settle down for the night, bleating happily. 

all of the sudden, a baby goat, (a kid, you find out they are called, later) runs up to you and nibbles at your sleeve. it’s quite adorable, the way it shoves its head under your hand, urging you to pet it. you comply, of course. 

it kind of reminds you of the way oscar often shoves his head under your hands during a long night study session. when he was almost at his breaking point, too tired to shove any more vocab words and formulas into his head, he would lie on you and beg for you to thread your hands into his hair and massage his head. oscar would probably go mental if he saw you give the baby goat treatment that was typically reserved for him.

speaking of the devil, the second your hand lands on the baby goat’s head, oscar storms in with the stubborn goat from earlier squished to his chest. half of your boyfriend’s pant leg is soaking wet, and judging from the way his eyes are drawn to the spot where your hand was softly petting the goat’s head, he was not too happy. 

“are you…okay, osc?” you ask, already knowing the answer. 

after gently letting the offending goat back towards its mates, oscar stands like the standing man emoji in front of you.

“i would like to go.” he responds, face completely deadpan. 

although the goats were pretty cute, you would pick oscar every time. lightly scooching away from the baby goat, you stand up and brush off the pieces of straw and dirt that it knocked into your lap. the goat, probably slightly peeved at the fact that you were leaving, decides to do a gravity defying (?) leap at the shelf behind you, which contained a small square block of hay. 

much to your amazement, the goat jumps off your bucket, and lands nicely on the shelf a good meter above you. 

“don’t you fucking dare,” oscar warns behind you, apparently already guessing the goat’s next step. he runs towards underneath the shelf and pushes you behind him, all the while keeping a eye on the goat as it steps closer and closer to the bale of hay.

it bleats, and pushes the hay with its nose.

the block explodes in midair, completely covering oscar.

for the second time in the day night, you fight to cover your laugh. the poor hay-covered oscar was just about trembling in anger. you hurriedly drag him towards the exit, all the while thanking the gods that what you thought was a darling little goat didn’t just squish your boyfriend.

“come on, baby,” you comfort, parroting the words he had said to you earlier in the night back to him. “it’s fine.”

he huffs, twisting the key of the atv, allowing the heater to effectively blast half of the hay on him straight into your face.

“oh my god, baby, are you okay?” oscar says, eyes wide. he quickly turns the heater down and brushes a few strands of hay off of your head. 

you pretend that you didn’t just feel a strand of hay go down your throat. 

“y-yeah, no problem,” you cough out. “we can just um, head back if that’s what you’d like.”

“right,” he affirms, voice going back to monotone. 

the atv rumbles quietly as he navigates back to the house.

trying to lighten up the mood and fill the awkward silence in the small space of the vehicle, oscar attempts to crack the world’s worst joke using his lust-craved brain. 

“after all that fiasco, i think i deserve the world’s best hea-”

before he can finish (hehe get it?), you cut him off, pointing outside to a potentially dangerous situation for his ranch’s chickens. 

“oscar,” you say pointedly, “i don’t want to burst your bubble, but was bringing the chickens in one of your sister’s chores? ‘cause they’re currently flapping around in an outdoor area, and i’m afraid there’s like foxes or something that are going to eat them.”

your boyfriend slams on the brake pedal, and peeks over your shoulder, confirming the worst news in his head right now- there was yet another job to be done. 

he just about flies out the vehicle, and before you know it, he has wedged himself into the chicken coop. if there is an award for the fastest time to shove like, 15 chickens inside the line of nesting boxes, he would definitely win first. it’s kind of an insane sight.  you even hear a few “get the fuck in,” which is decidedly out of character for oscar to ever say.

every chicken actually makes it indoors, and oscar doesn’t hesitate to slam the chicken coop door shut with a loud bang.

you wish you can say the actual ride back to the house isn’t tense, but then, you’d be lying. by the time oscar pulls up to the side of the house where the only window still has its lights on is the second one without a window screen, you can feel each breath that he takes thrumming its way into your core. 

he barely has a chance to shut off the atv before you cast a sly glance towards him. 

“do you wanna-” 

the way his brown eyes glaze over in want does all the answering for you.

all you know is that after spending an undisclosed amount of time inside of the atv fogging up the plastic cover of the vehicle, you both stumbled back through oscar’s stupid little window on the left side of the house, where you continued your little escapade within the confines of his bedroom. 

the first thing you realize when you wake up is oscar’s bare skin underneath yours. you’re tucked underneath his arm, and one of your legs is entwined with his. 

you shift in his arms, tilt your head, and use a little bit of force to launch yourself upwards to press a kiss on his cheek from your position wedged next to him. 

oscar mutters a “mmm,” with his eyes closed, but you can tell from the many times of waking up next to him that he’s obviously awake. 

poking his bare stomach with a finger, you giggle. 

“i know you’re awake, oscar.”

“nuh-uh,” he shoots back, eyes still closed, grasping your offending finger with his hand and holding your arm away from him.

you untuck your other hand from under the blanket, and move to boop his stomach again. 

however, before you are able to, the footsteps come to the door and the doorknob jiggles.

oh. my. fucking. god. not this again.

oscar, like the night before, strategically shoves you under his blankets roughly. 

this time, you wedge yourself in a way where you can see the doorway through a crack in the blankets before the door swings open.

a nice-looking woman with straight brown short hair and a white sweatshirt with big block letters that spell out, “y u k i” walks in. his mom, you suppose. behind her stands the girl you saw the day before, hattie, who has her hand clasped over her mouth, trying to stop her giggles from escaping. 

oscar’s mom speaks first, clasping her hands together. 

“good morning, oscar!” she exclaims, placing her hands on her hips. “did you want some breakfast?”

“er,” your boyfriend says, staying very still. 

then, you see oscar’s mom approaching you. 

she neatly pulls off the part of the blanket covering your head, effectively blinding you from the bright light from the window, while also turning you into the surface of the sun from the way your cheeks heat up from embarrassment of being exposed literally out of nowhere. 

“and maybe your girlfriend would like some breakfast too instead of being shoved underneath your dirty blankets?” 

when oscar doesn’t answer, his mother shakes her head and sighs. “wow, oscar, i thought i taught you better than treating guests this way.”

you wrap oscar’s blankets around you, thanking god that his mother had not decided to yank all the blankets off your entire body.

hattie decides this is the moment that she cannot hold her laugh anymore and flees the doorway. you can still hear her little giggles in the hallway.

your boyfriend stutters out angrily, “b-but hattie promised-”

“no, don’t ‘hattie’ me. she didn’t out you.” his mother states calmly. “i was a teen too, once. do you really think i wouldn’t see the footsteps in the mud? your giggling at 3am? the quite honestly- nasty- handprints on the fogged up atv plastic? also, the quite obvious lump that was on your bed-” 

she shakes her head, wagging a finger at her son.

turning to you, however, she brightens up significantly. “anyways, i don’t blame you a smidgen for oscar’s actions, darling. call me nicole. now, how would you like your toast and eggs?”

a/n: bonus points if you can recognize what movie + scene i referenced when mama piastri walks for the first time 🤭

[kissyrafe]

waking up on christmas morning with rafe

cw: nothing, just fluff!! (not proofread!!!)

notes: merry christmas 'n happy holidays everybody ˊᗜˋ

december 25th, the perfect morning— candles, blankets, snow, and rafe. the smell of smoked oak wood along with vanilla covered the room with its light scent, waking you up with a gentle kiss to your nose. you and your boyfriend were huddled up under the soft woven blankets, entangled in each other. you opened your eyes with a smile on your face, christmas. the best time of the year. you peered out the window from where you lay, only to see white specks sprinkling down onto the outer bank's ground, and your smile grew even bigger. snow! this was exciting, to say the least. from all your years living on taneyhill, never have you seen snow. it's a rare occurrence down in north carolina, so why not wake your dashing boyfriend up to watch the snow fall?

he slept soundly with his head propped onto your chest, which he claims is "softer than any pillow". you smiled, lacing your fingers in between his hair, shaking his head lightly. "rafe!" you whispered, as if to not wake him up. you heard small groans and light vibrations against you, "hmm...?" rafe hummed into you, his hands traveling to your sides to pull you in closer if that was even possible. "it's snowing outside," you nudged to rafe, making his eyes open, "on christmas morning!" you politely squealed. when he too saw the snowflakes sprinkle, a smile then grew.

you both admired the weather from the comfort of your bed, fire crackling in the distance. as rafe snuggled into you, he spoke in a soft tone "wanna go open presents?"

it was like you two were kids again, opening the presents next to the fire, aching with eagerness to see what you get on the magical holiday. you jumped up and down, holding the shoe box in your arms and you repeated the words "thank you" a billion times over. "i've been wanting these uggs for so long rafe!" you smiled from ear to ear as he took your picture next to the christmas tree full of presents on the digital camera. "merry christmas, baby." a grin plastered on his face.

as you went through the rest of the gifts he gave you, they only got sweeter; such as a tiffany bracelet with individual charms that reminded him of you, or the pink burr basket filled with all the small essentials you've been needing to restock on, plus the billions of snacks, obviously.

when it came to rafe's turn to open your gifts, he picked the smallest one first. behind the camera, you still had that smile on your face, seemingly more excited than him. "i think you'll love it rafey," he unraveled the gift gently, as to not harm whatever was inside. he was met with a gold oval locket with a cross engraved on it. and in the locket, was a picture of the two of you smiling together. that picture wasn't taken on any special day, but it highlighted one of your personal favorite moments together. "it's perfect." he looked up into your eyes, trying to hide his huge grin.

"put it on so i can take the picture!" you said, voice laced with joy. rafe carefully put the gold necklace on, opening his arms right after so you could join him in the picture, encapsulating the memory. you ran into his arms, and he kissed your cheek as you beamed, clicking the camera.

after opening the rest of the presents, you two made waffles, decorating them with strawberries, blueberries, and whipped cream to look like santa claus. "i think mine is definitely better," rafe remarked as you took a picture of the two of your plates side by side. "yours looks like a three-year-old made it." you joked, rolling your eyes. "now come on, let's go watch the best christmas movie ever!!!"

you two laid with each other on the couch, blankets and stuffed animals everywhere, biting the warm waffles and sippin' hot chocolate as the movie played on the large screen. "ya know, home alone isn't really a christmas movie. people only think that 'cuz it's set on christmas day. and it's not the best holiday film." your boyfriend interrupted. you gasped, hitting rafe's arm "don't ever disrespect home alone!" you took another bite of your strawberry, "'n it's the best movie because i say it's the best movie."

"whatever you say, princess. merry christmas."

[strwbabydoll]

The Feeling Came Late (I’m Still Glad I Met You)

Chapter Four: To Kiss in Cars and Downtown Bars

pairings: grumpy!college student!Harry x fem! sunshine!reader

chapter summary: No matter how frustrated she gets, she just can’t give up on the hope that she can change him, help him. Her best friend offers her a distraction to keep her mind fresh and off of the stress of tutoring him, the bar is just the perfect way to do that. After several shots, she falls into the arms of the one person she didn't want to see tonight, and just their luck he has to be the one to take care of her for the night. What better way to end the night than with a mistake that might just change everything as much as he hates it.

series summary: Harry hates Y/N, it seems like it's been like that forever. He's quick to insult and correct her even when she's right, he's just always been the only one to pick on her no matter what she does. She doesn't understand why it's like this between them or what she did to make him dislike her so much, but what if it's all just a lie?

overall warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, sexual tension, kind of enemies to lovers, angst, alcohol consumption and drug mentions, foul language, Harry is a major asshole in this tbh, heavy on the grumpy x sunshine in this.

chapter 4/? (wc: 6.7k)

001 | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04

- - - - -

She knew logically there was no reason for her to be upset, especially not about something so small and more than likely had nothing to do with her. He was just being him, he was in a mood and just didn't want to be there. Deep down she wanted everything to go differently, she wanted to see if there was a chance he could maybe not like her a little less, he might crack a smile or at least talk! 

The whole time he was silent aside from the hums and grunts he would answer with that she had a hard time deciphering. She had to fight back a smile every time they made eye contact but the small moment was ruined when he'd look away and huff. 

The following days after their study session seemed to drag on for Y/N. The days' they go to school haven't changed, she tries to approach him to discuss when to meet next or to ask him if he has any questions, and he ignores her. He'll carry on with his conversation as if she's not standing right there and she's left to walk away with her head held down and a sad smile on her lips. 

So she stopped trying, she stopped texting him about the worksheets he has, she stopped trying to talk to him in between classes, she hated the way he treated her and she's tired. She figures that he'll come to her whenever he's ready. 

So she went on with her normal routine and didn't focus on him as much, and if he never comes back then it's not her fault. She continued with all her studies and preparing for her own exams, spending time with her friends and making short trips to her favorite meadow. 

She's always found the breeze blowing against her skin, the silence of the field aside from the couple of birds chirping and the insects that have made the grass their home, comforting in a way. She loved being outside even as a young girl, it seemed to be the only place she could go to escape the chaos and loud feelings of her life. She never hesitated to step outside whenever her parents began to raise their voices, or after a long day filled with stress. 

As she sits against the tall oak tree, the leaves shading her from the heat of the Florida sun, she can feel the stress of the past few days leave her body. She smiles happily as the grass tickles her skin, and at this moment she feels at home. 

- - - - 

The next couple of days, she still hasn't heard from Harry about their next session and midterms are coming soon and she'd hate to be the reason Harry fails. The only thing coming into mind is to make her way to the principal's office and demand that he comes to sessions but she knows that won't work. It'll just cause Harry to hate her even more if that's even remotely possible. She sighs as she walks out the school doors and down the steps, a slight pep in her step and a soft smile placed delicately on her lips.

She skips over happily to the bike rack and unties her own, slowly pulling it backwards until she's a good distance from the rack. She stops briefly as something catches her eye. With one hand shielding her eyes from the harsh sun as she scans the crowd, she smiles brightly as she lands on a familiar figure, the loose curls gathered in a pony tail and the leather jacket are all too familiar to her, so without thinking she begins to move towards him. Her legs carry her through the crowd of students until she's standing directly behind him. Her hand comes up to tap gently on his shoulder, stepping backwards so he can turn around. 

He turns around, scowl already forming on his lips as his eyes meet hers. His fists clench at his side and he shakes his head. He quickly turns back around and opens his car, not caring about the conversation he was in the middle of. She frowns slightly before walking behind him as he aggressively opens the door and gets in, making sure to glare at her when her hand reaches out to rest on his door. 

"What the fuck could y’possibly want?" He asks and she frowns slightly. 

"You've been ignoring me." He scoffs lightly at her response as he sticks his keys in and starts the car. 

"Get the hint then, lala." He gently begins to tug on the door, just because he's an asshole doesn't mean he's just gonna let her get hurt physically.

She frowns as she keeps her hand on the door. 

"Just because it was one bad study session - keep in mind it was only bad because of you - doesn't mean you can be even more of an asshole to me. I know you don't wanna fail, you wanna get the hell out of here as fast as possible." He stares at her blankly as she speaks. 

"I don't care if you like me or not because frankly I don't like you right now. I've tried to schedule sessions and all I get is radio silence. If you want this to be over as soon as possible, then you need to try. You need to work with me, not against me. If you wanna pass, I'll be at the library in the same spot all week. If you don't, then you better tell the principal you canceled our study session and whatever bullshit you need to say. I want you to know that if you fail, you can not blame me because you did this yourself." She says as her grip on the door loosens. He furrows his eyebrows as he stares at her intensely, his frown prominent as his eyes size her up. 

He lets out a defeated sigh as he shuts his eyes and turns his head slightly, his curls tickling his neck as they slide over it. 

"Fucking fine, two days from now I guess we can meet up and study some more. Is that all?" His voice lacks any eagerness but that doesn't deter her from cracking a big smile at him before she skips off towards the bike rack. His eyes never leave her retreating figure even after she pedals out of the parking lot and down the street. 

He's so stuck in his brain that he doesn't hear his friend Alex walk up beside him, the feeling of a hand slapping him on the shoulder startles him from the trance he was in. He snaps his head around and nods his head once in acknowledgement, Alex smiles at him briefly. 

"Wassup man, why're you being weird?" Harry shakes his head as a frown quickly begins to form on his face. 

"The fuck are you talking about?" Harry asks and Alex chuckles, a hand flying out to grasp Harry's shoulder in response. 

"You've been staring into space since what's her face left." Harry shakes his head in response as he chuckles. 

"Nothin' like that. S'all taken care of." Alex nods once before releasing his hold on Harry's leather clad shoulder. 

"Me and a couple of buds are going to the bar tonight, you wanna come?" Harry nods once in agreement before they say their goodbyes. 

- - - - 

Y/N sits on the couch beside her closest friend, Leya, aimlessly scrolling through the channels on the television. Their phones are discarded on the coffee table in front of them as they make small talk as they search for something to watch. The day's been boring for both of them, Y/N went to school and then headed over to Leya's house where her friend's been cooped up all day. 

"We should go out tonight." Leya says after settling on some cooking show. 

She sets the remote on the table before turning to face Y/N beside her, her eyes meeting confused ones. 

"It's a school night... Why on earth would we go out?" She asks and Leya chuckles. 

"We won't be out late, promise. Just tired of being cooped up inside and we haven't hung out outside of these four walls in forever it seems. You've been busy." Y/N smiles softly as she tucks one leg underneath her as she bites her bottom lip. 

She knows her best friend's idea of “not late” is much different than hers, they're more than likely going to be heading back to their places around one in the morning, meanwhile Y/N usually only stays out until eleven p.m. since she has early morning classes. She sighs before turning her gaze to her best friend, eagerness and excitement is written all over her face and she can't help but to return the excitement. A bright smile forms on her lips before she nods her head. 

"Where did you want to go and we're only staying out until midnight at the latest, I have to get up early." She can't help but smile at her friend's excitement. 

They both turn their gaze to the television, smiles etched on their faces as they focus on whatever the man on the screen is cooking. She knows this isn't a good idea because she knows they'll be out much later than intended simply because time won't matter once they're having fun. No one will be checking their phones and she doesn't even know where they're going!

She knows she hasn't had much time to properly hang out with her best friend because she's been doing a lot more. She's been juggling school with tutoring two different students and trying to snag some hours in at the local library for a little side cash. She can't help but to feel bad, but there's nothing she can do about it now and she's sure her friend understands why. 

Leya goes on and on about a bar nearby that's under new management and is supposed to be so much better and how she wants to try it. 

 "They have a better selection of drinks, live music! This sounds like so much fun I promise you won't regret it. Please say you'll go, you have to! I'm afraid I'll die if you say no." Leya says, placing a hand on her forehead to feed into the dramatics as she rests her upper half over the couch armrest. 

Y/N can't help but to laugh at her friend as she rolls her eyes playfully. 

"You're silly. You know I was gonna say yes regardless, you deserve a proper fun night out." Leya's face might be broken with how hard she's smiling, white teeth showcased fully and her eyes barely showing as she quickly shortens the small distance between to embrace her best friend into a tight hug. 

"I could quite literally kiss you right now, you're the best friend ever! I'm so excited, thank you thank you!" She squeals before pulling away to plant a sloppy kiss on Y/N's cheek causing the girl to laugh as she wipes it away with the back of her hand. 

A comfortable silence falls over them as they turn their attention back to the television, the man's voice playing in the background as he talks about whatever dish he's making for the day. Her head lays on Leya's shoulder as they continue to watch tv, a happy smile on her face as she enjoys the company and peaceful bliss. 

- - - - 

Several hours later, Y/N finds herself standing in front of the standing floor mirror holding two different dresses. She takes turns in holding the dresses up to her body as she tries to decide which one she wants to wear. She doesn't wanna put too much effort in her appearance since she knows it'll all be sweated off by the end of the night. 

She ends up choosing a simple black dress, one that hugs her curves nicely with lace detailing around the edges and stops mid thigh. It's plain enough so she won't stand out too much, but dressy enough to show she actually put some effort into her appearance. After she slips it on, she applies some light makeup and styles her hair and decides to leave her curls to flow down her back. 

She walks out of Leya's room and into the living room where she's met with her best friends' figure leaning over the kitchen island as she applies a pink tinted lipstick over her lips, the burgundy dress compliments her caramel skin, hugging her curves but flaring out towards the bottom with an open back and stops mid thigh. Her hair has been pinned back as it rests in the matching burgundy hair clip. She can't help but to smile as she watches her friend add the finishing touches to her makeup before choosing to speak up. 

"You look super pretty, Leya. Is that dress new?" Leya turns around and smiles just as big as she nods. 

"Yes! Oh my gosh, you look to die for! Spin for me baby!" Leya exclaims and Y/N can't help but to giggle as she does a spin, her white heels clicking against the tile floor with every step.

They both laugh as they embrace each other in a tight hug before walking out the door and towards Leya's car. The soft breeze blowing against her skin and she smiles as she steps inside the car. Leya hops into the driver seat and starts the car making sure to roll Y/N's window down as she drives down the street. The trees and houses turn into a blur, the breeze fanning her face as she lays her head on the open space on the car door. 

- - - - 

The smell of weed quickly fills Y/N's nose as she steps out of the car and lets her eyes sweep over the building. There's a couple of guys huddled in the far side of the building, she can only assume they're smoking the weed by how clouds of smoke keep blowing in the air every couple of seconds. She can see the side profile of one of the guys and she can't help the small gasp that escapes her lips when she realizes that one of the guys is Harry. 

He's dressed like normal, a white dress shirt halfway unbuttoned to show off his swallows tattoos and his toned chest, a pair of black skinny jeans and his signature brown Chelsea boots, his hair resting right at his shoulders instead of his usual bun. She can hear Leya clear her throat from behind her and she turns around to meet her gaze with a sly smile. 

They don't say anything to each other before Leya's grabbing her hand and heading towards the entrance and she laughs as Leya yells. 

"Party time baby!" The sound of her friend's voice causes Harry and his friends to look over and she catches a glimpse of his signature frown beginning to form. 

She refuses to let him ruin a perfectly good night so she sends him a sarcastic smile before she's dragged through the door and directly to the bar, she staggers behind her friend as her heels clack against the wooden floor. She quickly apologizes to everyone she bumps into as she tries to make herself as small as possible, earning a few nasty glares in the process. It doesn't take long for the two girls to reach the bar and they quickly hop onto the bar stools, the leather squeaks underneath with every move. 

The music is loud and Y/N can feel the vibrations through the stool, even though she just walked in the heat from all the dancing bodies enveloping her, wrapping her in a warm hug. The bartender comes over and sends both of them a flirty smile as he leans on the counter top. 

"And what can I get for you lovely ladies?" He asks and they both let out a giggle. Leya's the first to answer as she smiles back. 

"I'd like a sex on the beach please!" The waiter nods in response as he gathers everything he needs and begins to make her drink. 

Y/N doesn't know what she wants to drink, she's never been a heavy drinker, she doesn't like the bitterness of beer or the burn of tequila as it flows down her throat. She usually sticks with water or tea, something non-alcoholic or something sweet when she's out so she turns her head and pleads with Leya. Wide eyes begging for help to make herself feel better about her decision which causes her friend to laugh softly before nodding her head. 

The waiter comes back with a smile as he hands Leya's drink to her and turns to Y/N, flashing her a flirty smile as well. 

"And what can I get started for you, pretty?" Y/N smiles politely back at him before Leya interrupts them. 

"Do you by any chance have anything fruity?" The bartender nods and quickly mixes her drink and hands it to her, it's orange and looks just like orange juice and she can make out a few ice cubes floating around. 

She hesitantly brings the cup to her lips and takes a small sip, expecting to feel the burn in her throat or taste the bitter aftertaste that'll linger on her taste buds. Surprisingly she doesn't taste any of it, it's sweet and tastes just like orange juice. She licks her lips before taking a longer sip and nods. 

"I like this! What's it called?" She asks and the bartender chuckles softly before he replies.

"It's called a screwdriver. It's orange juice and vodka. I'd be careful with that, because it's so easy to drink it'll get you pretty tipsy fast. Don't just drown it, small sips." She nods gingerly as she turns to Leya. 

"Want some?" Leya shakes her head softly as she sends a smile to Y/N, one full of love and happiness she can't help but to send a reciprocated smile back. 

The bartender leaves them to chat idly as the music plays, loud enough to cause them to lean into each other to make sure they're heard correctly. Leya talks about how she can't believe that Y/N is out and drinking, making jokes about where has her friend gone because the girl she knows wouldn't be caught dead in a bar, let alone outside her apartment at this time. Y/N chuckles before playfully pushing her friend's shoulder and taking another sip of her drink. 

As their eyes glaze over the crowd full of dancing people, Leya nudges her softly causing her to turn her head briefly where she's met with a smirk. 

"You know Harry's here?" Y/N chuckles before nodding. 

"Saw him outside before we came in. Didn't look too happy to see me." She shrugs before taking another sip of her drink. She watches as her friend shakes her head and rolls her eyes. 

"Still nothing huh? I don't even understand why he dislikes you so strongly. You said you confronted him in the parking lot? Did nothing happen?" Y/N can feel her frown beginning to form at the thought of her outburst at him. 

"No, he just stared like a statue the whole time before he very reluctantly agreed to another study session. I hate to feel like I'm forcing him but I refuse to let him fail under my watch you know? I know he can do better." Y/N takes another sip of her drink as she begins to drum her fingers on her thigh to the rhythm of the song playing. 

Leya smiles as she sips her own, she loves that most about her best friend. The fact that no matter what she's always seen the best in people and never treated them the way they treat her. 

"Let's play a game." The smirk is back on her lips as she sets her drink on the counter behind her. 

"What could we possibly play at the bar Leya?"  Her curiosity is getting the best of her, she always had fun with her and this wouldn't be any different.

"Let's see how many people end up fucking tonight. You take a sip if you end up losing your guess, and the other person takes a sip if you guess correctly." Y/N can't help the shiver of excitement that runs through her body at the game description and so she nods her head excitedly as both eyes trail over the crowd. 

- - - - 

Several wrong guesses and a couple correct ones, Y/N can feel the warmth of her cheeks and she's a giggling mess. She's never felt more at peace as she leans her head on her friend's shoulder. They've left their multiple glasses behind as they sway lightly and slowly to the very upbeat song, not caring about the nasty glares they're receiving or the way the bass of the song vibrates in her chest. They've forgotten the game a while ago, after Leya's guesses got more incorrect and Y/N's guesses became slurred words and giggles. 

She's never been a heavy drinker so she considers herself a lightweight when it comes to alcohol and at this moment it shows. Y/N's more gone than Leya is - she's borderline tipsy, still able to form sentences and can kinda walk in a straight enough line if she concentrates hard enough. So Y/N leans her weight on her friend as she wraps her arms around her waist and snuggles her face into her neck, neither girl caring about her makeup that will definitely leave a stain as they sway. 

"Leys.." a giggle escapes her lips at the new nickname coming from her before she turns her head upwards to gaze at her best friend. 

"Yes, honey bunny?" Leya brings one hand up to her head and softly runs her hand through Y/N's curls as she laughs softly, she can feel Y/N begin to relax in her hold and she chuckles softly. 

"Love you." She mumbles and she can feel a soft kiss on the top of her hair and the tightening of Leya's arms around her shoulders. 

"Love you too sweets. Are you feeling okay?" Y/N softly nods her head against Leya's chest. 

A couple seconds past, a comfortable silence looming over them before Y/N gasps and pulls away. 

"What? What's wrong?" Leya's face is laced with concern, eyebrows raised and eyes wide as she stares at the drunk girl. 

"You're my best friend!" She exclaims and lets out a small giggle. Relief floods over Leya's face and turns into a loving smile. 

"And you're mine, forever and always." She breaks into a big smile, one that makes her cheeks hurt and shows off all of her teeth, one that seems to brighten up the decently lit building. 

The music has seemed to fade away into the background, it doesn't seem as loud anymore but she can still feel the bass vibrating through her body as she very clumsily dances alongside her best friend. Hands, arms, and sides bump into one another throughout her time shared on the dance floor, she can't bring herself to care about any of that. The only thing that matters at the moment is that she'll be happy and she's having fun, she can't remember a time she's felt so loose. 

She stops her dancing around to stumble over to the bar once more, their glasses cleaned off and the bartender already ready with a medium sized glass cup. 

"Are you thirsty?" He says as he pushes the cup towards her, the condensation leaves a wet trail against the wooden countertop and she shakes her head. 

"New cup please, no drugs." She giggles slightly at herself and sets her hand on the table. She focuses her attention on the bartender as he pours out the water and rinses the cup. He quickly pours her some fresh water and she giggles as she thanks him, their fingers brushing over another as she grabs her cup from him and takse a sip.

She's managed to lose Leya in such a short time, her eyes flitting over the crowd but she can't seem to focus on finding her friend when her eyes land on Harry's signature curls and leather jacket. She giggles before taking a big sip of the water and sets her cups on the counter as she hops down from the stool and begins to clumsily make her way over to Harry. She bumps into a couple people on the way over, saying excuse me before she bursts into small fits of giggle with every bump. 

She almost trips over someone sitting near Harry, her hand coming out to grab onto the closest thing to her and she quickly grabs onto someone's chair. 

"Watch it!" The guy yells at her and she quickly pushes herself up and apologizes, a soft laugh coming out from her lips as her eyes lock onto Harry's. His face is bare, no frown placed on it but his hazy eyes show just the hint of annoyance. His eyes wander over her body as she just stands there before he leans forward and his eyes flick up to hers as his hands slowly come up to her frame. He ever so gently and very carefully takes the end of her dress and tugs it down from its resting position from at the top of her thighs to the middle of her thigh. 

After he's satisfied he quickly pulls back and grabs the joint from Alex's hand and takes a hit, he enjoys the burn in his throat as he inhales and watches the smoke as he exhales. He finds that her presence isn't as infuriating like this, his eyes travel down her frame - taking in the way her hair flows, and the dress and just how well it compliments her curves, the way she plays with her fingers and the slight sway she has as she stands in place. 

She then quickly breaks out into a big smile and stumbles closer to Harry. 

"Hi!" He frowns slightly before nodding to her in acknowledgment. 

"Have you seen Leya?" She hiccups softly before letting out a small laugh. He shakes his head before turning to his friend.

"Seen her friend?" His friend shakes his head as well and he turns his gaze back to her. 

"Go look around. Couldn't have gone too far. She shouldn't have left you like this anyways." She frowns at that before shaking her head.

"I left her, got thirsty. The nice bartender gave me water with no drugs." She giggles before turning around and pointing to the man standing behind the counter, his eyes already fixed on her. 

Harry leans slightly to stare at the man before looking back to her and sighing in annoyance as he stands up. He tells his friends he'll be right back as he walks the couple steps to stand in front of the intoxicated girl. 

"C'mon then, let's see if we can find her." His voice gruff as she turns around and begins to stumble her way through the crowd, bumping into a guy and causing him to spill his drink. 

"Fucking bitch. You owe me a drink!" He watches as she flinches slightly at the already drunk man's tone. 

Harry can't help but to frown as he steps forward and stares at the man with anger clouding his eyes. 

"Talk to her with fucking respect, douchebag." He says as he steps back and reaches into his pocket to grab his wallet, opening it up and grabs a couple dollars and roughly hands it to him.

"Now shut the fuck up and get your drink." He says and walks over to Y/N and lays his hand on her shoulder as he pushes her to the bar gently. The girl giggles and thanks Harry for saving her from the 'scary man' as they make it to the counter. 

"Are you ready for another one, pretty girl?" The waiter asks and she shakes her head softly. Harry can't help but to clear his throat in an attempt to get the attention off of the girl beside him. 

"We're actually looking for her friend, have you seen her?" The bartender's eyes flick back and forth between Y/N and Harry before nodding his head. 

"Yeah, she went into the bathroom with some guy a little bit ago." Harry scoffs as he grabs Y/N's hand and leads her to the door. 

She squeals before she smacks Harry's hand. 

"Hey! Harry! Slow down! Wait! She's in there!! Can't leave her!" She yells, but Harry shows no sign of stopping. His hair flows in the air behind  him as he drags her to the door, the sound of her heels clicking against the wooden floor just barely audible over to the sound of the drums on the stage. He doesn't stop until they've made it outside the door and he stops abruptly and runs his hand through his hair. 

"Can't leave Leys, Harry. Love her. She's my best friend! We gotta go back!" She huffs and he shakes his head. 

"No can do, lala. Your best friend is hooking up with some random fucking guy instead of making sure you're okay. M'taking you home. What's your address?" He takes out his phone and opens the *Maps* app, she does nothing but glare at him. 

"Don't want you, want Leya." She says as she turns around and heads to the door. 

He rolls his eyes as he moves to stand in front of her and softly places his hands on her shoulders. 

"C'mon Y/N. M'not gonna hurt you. Just let me take you home." He says, his voice surprisingly soft and she shakes her head and crosses her arms. 

"You're not Leya." He rolls his eyes at this. 

"M'doing both of us a favor by continuing these sessions, it's the least you can do. You're drunk off your fucking ass and your best friend doesn’t seem too worried about you. C'mon and let me take you home. Can you not be so stubborn for once, you're in no condition to be anywhere but in your own bed." Her bottom lip juts out and begins to wobble and he sighs. 

"Leya cares 'bout me, she's worried right now. Let me inside, you don't care. Just gonna hold this over my head tomorrow." She says as she reaches into her purse for her phone. 

She quickly grabs it and unlocks it, her finger clicking on the phone icon and clicking on Leya's name and clicking the speaker icon. The phone rings several times and Y/N bites her bottom lip nervously, the time taking forever with each second that the phone doesn't click and her friend's voice comes through. After a while the phone goes to voicemail and she can't help the few tears that fall from her eyes and onto her cheeks. She dejectedly nods her head and follows Harry to his and she only manages to bump into a few cars along the way. 

Harry sighs before coming next to her and ever so gently wraps his arm around her waist, not touching her but enough to keep her from stumbling too much and setting off someone's car. It's almost too easy for her to melt into his hold as her head comes to rest on his shoulder and wraps her own arm around him, she's too far gone to take note of the way his body tenses up underneath her touch. It takes the both of them longer to get to his car than it would if it was just him because of the way she keeps stumbling over cracks in the road or just her own two feet. He opens the door for her and allows her to get in and sets his jacket on her lap just in case, he's careful when strapping her in - trying his best not to touch her too much and announcing his every move for her to nod and giggle. 

- - - - 

After a couple wrong directions from Y/N talking over the voice coming from the speaker, Harry manages to pull into her driveway and parks the car. He gets out after telling her to stay put, walking around the car to her side, opening the door and unbuckling her, being gentle with her as he helps her out of the car and towards her house. When they reach the front door, he taps her on the shoulder and nods to the door. 

"You got your keys?" His voice comes out softer than usual, taking on a more gentle tone with the girl and it only confuses him more. He hates that he’s trying to be gentle with her, how he can see that she’s more vulnerable now and doesn’t want to upset her. Y/N nods before reaching into her purse and surprisingly fast she pulls out her keychain, the various keys jingling against each other as she uses the other hand to pick at each key. 

Right when her fingers begin to wrap around her house key, they slip through her grasp and make a loud jingle as they hit the floor. 

"Whoopsie." She giggles as she bends down, Harry follows suit as his own hand reaches out to grab it and he manages to beat her to it as his right hand wraps around the keychain. They both stand up at the same time causing them both to hit their head against the other, she frowns as one hand comes up to rub her head. Harry can't help but to crack a smile at the sight before he shakes his head and unlocks her door, opening it fully as his arm wraps around her waist. 

His fingers are just barely touching her dress as he guides her in the house, quietly shutting the door before asking him to lead her into her own room. She giggles softly as she nods, her own hand coming to rest on top of his as they walk into her room. Harry's not disgusted by her room, in fact it reminds him of earlier years, the various posters of plants and paintings, post it notes with words of encouragement and a decent sized calendar line the plain white walls, her beige comforter set contrasts the soft pink carpet that rests underneath her bed and he can spot a flower vase full of various flowers sitting on top of her dresser accompanied by other small decorations. 

Her room just screams… her, it's something that you'd expect to see from her and he can't complain. For as long as he can remember she's always been so predictable when it comes to anything really, and so as he leads her to the bed her door catches on the leg of her dresser causing her to begin to fall forward. She squeals as she prepares for the hard impact against the floor but it never comes, Harry's arms are wrapped around her securely, his fingers digging into her waist as he pulls her up. 

"For fucks sake, slow down will you. I need you alive so I can pass this stupid test. Don't want you to damage that useful brain of yours huh?" He can't help to add a teasing tone to his voice and she shakes her head. 

"Can you get dressed by yourself?" He asks and she shakes her head. 

He quickly heads to her dresser and waits for instructions that never seem to come, so slowly he opens one of her drawers - wary not to open one he definitely does not want to open, and he's met with a collection of hoodies and large shirts. So he quickly grabs one and tosses it to her, not bothering to look back as he speaks. 

"D'ya need shorts or anything?" He's met with silence and he turns around to see her gaze on him, her features soft and a hint of smile plays at her lips. 

"Y/N. Did ya hear me?" He says and still no response, so he steps closer and bends down so they're eye level causing her to break from her trance. 

"Huh, what?" She slurs as she blinks fast, her breath fanning over his face so he quickly leans back. 

"D'ya need shorts to sleep in?" She shakes her head as her cheeks fills with heat.

"What were you staring at?" He knows he doesn't care but his curiosity gets the best of him. 

"You're jus' really pretty, s'all." She replies, her mouth moves before he brain can process what she’s saying. 

He shakes his head at her before heading to her door. 

"M'pretty now? Be careful Y/N or someone might think y'like me. But thank you, I guess one might say you looked pretty tonight as well, not me though." He says as he walks out the door and closes it behind it. Her head is swimming as she stands up and begins to tug her dress off her body. It takes her a couple of attempts but she finally manages to drag the garment off her frame and she tosses it onto the edge of her bed before slipping on the shirt Harry tossed at her. 

She quickly sits on her bed and grabs the closest thing to her to help cover her bare legs, resulting in his jacket covering the upper half as she tells him to come in. The door squeaks as it opens and he sticks his head in before walking inside. His eyes flick to his jacket covering her bare thighs and one hand clenches into a fist.

"Harry?" His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of her voice and he opens his eyes to stare at her. 

"Why don't you like me?" She tilts her head forward as she gathers her hair into a bun. 

"Never said I didn't lala, don't go into that big head of yours." He leans backwards against her door frame and watches as she takes a big breath. 

"You always get irritated in my presence and you're more mean to me than anyone else." She begins to fiddle with her fingers as she ducks her head down. 

Harry sighs before coming to sit next to her on the bed, choosing to sit on the farthest side to protect anything from happening. 

"All I'm gonna say is I don't not like you. Now come lay down so I can leave." He says and stands up, pulling her blankets down and helps her get into bed, making sure she's covered fully. His head is tilted down as he finishes the last touches and she turns her head to the side to tell him thank you and apologize but she's met with the softness of his lips. It's quick and most definitely was an accident by the way he jerks back as if he got burned. 

Y/N lets out a nervous giggle before she sits up, her shirt beginning to slip down her shoulder and Harry frowns. 

"I'm sorry, so sorry! I actually wanted to apologize when I turned. So uh sorry about everything, fuck I'm sorry." Her mouth is moving a mile a minute, the words slurring together as they spill from her lips. 

Harry shakes his head as he exhales a shaky breath, he quickly walks out the room and attempts to make his way into her bathroom, opening up one cabinet to grab the small bottle of pain pills and walks into her kitchen. He opens all the cabinets and searches for a spare cup, quickly spotting it as he fills it halfway and heads back into her room, quietly setting both items down on the wooden bedside table and makes his way out the door and into his car. 

His mind is racing the whole drive there and the only that he can think of is how pretty she looked and the way her lips felt against his, he knows he's fucked up by choosing to help her and now look what happened. As his foot presses down onto the gas pedal and the car begins to drive faster, cursing himself the whole ride there and he hopes she won't remember any of this in the morning.

[stargazedwinchester]

can you write something where Sam and the reader take a case in a town that reminds him of Jess? maybe they wonder if they’ll ever be enough for him

ִ ࣪𖤐◞ ꙳ ๋࣭ ⭑ `i'm not jess, sam winchester ༘♡

summary: sam is reminded of his late first love, and it leaves you questioning if you'll ever be good enough. word count: 630 pairing: sam winchester x reader prompt: "i swear i didn't mean to." you can find the prompt here! cred to @promptsbytaurie thank you!

⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧

The town is quiet in that California way. The autumn breeze tangled in the tree branches, sunlight leaking through the oak leaves like spilled honey. It’s the kind of place that feels too peaceful for the kind of work you do.

Yours and Sam’s shoes crunch against the leaves that’s crept in from the nearby trees. You had just finished questioning a local business owner about a string of disappearances. Nothing supernatural so far, but it doesn’t hurt to check. You both had agreed to make the journey here, although this is Jess’s town.

Sam’s been… distant. Thoughtful. Quiet, but not in a bad way. More like his head’s been somewhere else.

“This café,” he says suddenly, nodding across the street. “Jess used to talk about it. Said they had the best lemon scones outside of San Francisco.”

You glance over, the painted blue and yellow exterior screams Jess. Cheerful and carefree. You can just about picture her there. Before the fire and the nightmares and the weight of what Sam’s life really is.

“She grew up here, right?” you ask gently. He nods.

“Yeah. She loved this town. Always said she wanted to bring me back here with her someday. Let me meet her high school friends. Show me the beach where she snuck out to drink cheap wine…” Sam laughs under his breath. “Her mom, too.”

You stay quiet.

“I used to think about what that would’ve been like. You know, normal. Quiet.”

You smile, because what else can you do?

Something about the wistfulness in his voice makes your stomach curl. Not in jealousy—but there’s an ache. Like you’re standing in a place she designed, trying to wear shoes that don’t fit.

You walk a few more blocks, past little shops and an old movie theater that’s probably not had a renovation since the 90’s.

Finally, you stop outside a bookstore with it’s shutters down, a padlock securing it in place. You take a breath.

“Sam?” You say, turning to him.

He looks at you, a question already in his eyes.

“I’m not Jess,” you say carefully, “I know that’s obvious, but… sometimes, when you talk about her like that, like she could still be here with you, it feels like I’m… just keeping her spot warm.”

His face shifts instantly, the guilt rolls over him like a wave as his brows furrow and his eyes full of concern.

“I’m so sorry… Y/N, I swear I didn’t mean to—”

“I know, Sam—”

“I swear, I didn’t realise…”

“It’s okay, Sam,” you begin, “I know you didn’t. And I want you to remember her. She mattered… and she still does. I’m just not her. I can’t be. I don’t know how to compete with someone who’s already gone.”

Sam reaches for your hand. “You shouldn’t have to compete,” he sighs, “God, Y/N, I… Jess was my first love. But she didn’t know this life. This version of me. You do. I’m so sorry I made you feel this way.”

You look away, your eyes stinging. “I just want to be enough.”

“You are,” he says almost immediately. “You’re the person who gets me through every damn day. You’re the person who’s here now. That’s what matters the most.”

You finally meet his eyes. There’s so much in them. Pain, yes, but honesty. Regret. Love.

“I’m with you,” he carries on softly, “here. Now. I wouldn’t trade that for any version of the past.”

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Okay.”

He smiles back—a little sad, but real.

“Want to go get one of those famous scones?” you ask, gesturing toward the café. Sam chuckles. “Yeah. Let’s go see if Jess was right.”

And when he reaches for your hand again, you let him hold it.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

yes! love me some mortal x immortal??/god type couples, i think they're cute. It's always sad though when they realize one will outlive the other, unless they do some magical stuff to make the human live just as long or if maybe the god person turns into a human.

I think it'd be so cute for nymph reader to accidentally slip up again before her and marcus officially meet, but she's not quick enough to disguise herself or hide again before marcus sees her so he chases after her and then it's like love at first sight ❤️

Hi, sweetie.

Your idea inspired me to write this…. You can take this as a prologue to Nymph. I thought Marcus could be younger (maybe Javier Peña style?). I hope you like it.

Warnings:  fluff, some nudity, not much going on, mythological figures treated in a simple way

A/N: hope you will be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

nymph. [prologue] l General Marcus Acacius

Nymph [masterlist]

For a moment he thought he was daydreaming. He had to, because his eyes had never seen anything more beautiful. 

All the glory of Rome, with all its provinces, with its cities of marble and gold, were nothing compared to what appeared before his eyes.

A being. A woman. Light and luminous like the rays of the sun, so different from what surrounded her, and at the same time seeming to fit there as if she had been created for this place.

He shouldn't be in this place. Marcus immediately felt as if he had sneaked into a temple where men were forbidden to stay, or as if he had spied on something that was supposed to be a closely guarded secret.

That day his legs carried him to these areas outside the camp. He didn't know why, as if the warm wind was pushing him for fun into the thicket of the forest. And when he stood behind a large and old oak tree, he saw the silver surface of the lake and her in front of him.

Beautiful as early morning, naked, sitting on the shore of the lake with her face turned towards the sun. He should have retreated and forgotten about it, but he couldn't help himself. 

He took a step forward, very quietly so as not to scare the woman away, but when he passed a blackberry bush, a wild bird got scared and flew out of the branches with a screech.

The girl heard this and immediately stood up abruptly. In the full sunlight, he saw her naked figure, standing proudly, although fear flickered in her eyes. She was like one of the statues in the temples.

Marcus raised a reassuring hand, approaching "Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you."

She didn't say anything. She only gave him an angry look and reached for the flowing robe that was lying on the nearby stones. The soft material wrapped around her body, hiding the beauty of her body from his eyes.

"Are you a goddess?" he asked.

You looked at him over your shoulder. "If I were a goddess, you'd be dead or blind for daring to watch me bathe, mortal." you mocked him.

"So maybe you're a mermaid?" He was already close to you.

The light robes glowed with their own light. It was hard for him to believe that you were real.

"A mermaid?" you laughed. "You really don't know much about the world, but you're sweet." you turned to him with a smile on your face. "I'm a nymph, soldier."

He watched you carefully. Brown, gentle eyes looked at you with reverence. Dark hair, strong body and sun-kissed skin. You've seen many men, this one was really handsome.

"My name is Marcus." His voice was pleasant, low and warm. "I'm Marcus Acacius. I command the Roman troops stationed nearby."

You nodded. "You're everywhere. Even here." you gave him your name though, and he repeated it as if he wanted to check how it tasted on his tongue. "You are not the General of these troops. You are too young." 

Marcus frowned dark eyebrows, arrogance flashing from his eyes "I am over thirty years old."

"Still young." you smiled gently and approached him "I am older than the oldest oaks of this forest, than the lake you are looking at." your hand moved over his chest hidden behind his clean, black armor "I knew the heroes of your myths, I served the gods you worship. You are still young, Marcus."

He couldn't take his eyes off you. Every move you made, every grimace, every smile, he wanted to remember it all. His heart was beating hard in his chest, you had to feel it.

"You mortals are truly funny." you continued, your hand sliding to the hilt of the sword at his side. "You confuse sirens with nymphs, you blame gods for your decisions, you call monsters those who weren't."

"Who do you mean?"

Your amused gaze traveled to his handsome face. "Like Medusa."

Marcus rolled his eyes and groaned. "That Gorgon? She was a monster with snakes instead of hair."

"She was a beautiful woman. Neptune possessed her in my lady's temple, which is why Minerva was angry. It was a sacred place." you replied, and although your words were strong, he didn't see the anger in your eyes. You were amused by the naivety of this soldier. "Don't judge a woman for the actions of a man, even if he's a god. She had every right to fly into a rage. Rome does the same, and you serve it. Remember the wrath of Medusa, Marcus."

Your fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. A warm hand rested on yours. Marcus tilted his head slightly.

"If you want to disarm me, you have to give me something in return." he said, a small smile appearing under his dark mustache.

You raised your eyebrows slightly. "Oh, really? What's that?"

"A kiss. One small kiss." His soothing voice penetrated your heart. "Prove to me that you're real."

You considered his words for a moment. Your sisters had often told you about how sweet and handsome mortals tried to charm them just to possess their bodies. Marcus seemed different to you though. You didn't know why, but you liked him.

"That's a big ask." you said, lifting your chin proudly.

"That's also a request from a little boy, as you called me."

You shook your head in disbelief. His impudence was captivating. Finally, you nodded. With your free hand, you reached for his smooth cheek. The skin was warm, you felt his breath on your lips, you could almost hear his heartbeat. 

But it wasn't you who gave Marcus a kiss, it was he who stole it from you, pressing himself into your lips as if he wanted to taste the forbidden fruit at all costs. His hand slid into your hair and pulled you closer so that you wouldn't accidentally slip away from his lips. 

Warm, soft lips caressed yours, and as soon as you parted your mouth, Marcus took the opportunity and slipped his tongue in, deepening the kiss.

Your legs almost buckled under you. You'd never experienced anything like it. Your body gave in to each kiss, wanting more and more. The solid hilt of the sword in your hand provided your only stability. 

Eventually, however, Marcus had to draw his breath. It was at that moment that you drew his sword in one fluid movement and took a few steps back.

"You are too careless for a Roman soldier." You declared, raising his sword towards him.

"You can stab me with it, my sweetest." He replied, his eyes shining in ecstasy. "My life is complete now, I can die."

"You don't know what you're saying."

"My life is a blink of an eye to you. To me, you are equal to the gods."

He noticed your eyes widen, your chest heaving in a sharp breath. The blade trembled, too heavy for your unskilled hand. Marcus caught it and pulled you to him.

When his hand rested on your cheek you let go of his sword, which fell softly onto the grass. His touch was warm, gentle, tender. For a moment you thought that he couldn't be mortal, he had too much power over you.

"How can I live without being able to taste your lips every day?" he asked "Do something about it, or I'll go mad..."

"Your life is a blink of an eye to me..." you whispered feeling his lips brush the corner of your mouth "I'll have to live until the end of the world hungry for your warmth."

You let him experience the taste of your lips again. And Marcus seemed insatiable with you. Strong arms held you tightly, protecting you from sinking to the ground. It lasted maybe minutes, maybe hours. 

Marcus spent the whole afternoon with you, talking and listening, laughing and feasting his eyes on the sight of you. His heart was filled with feelings he couldn't name. 

However, his life called him to fulfill his duties to the Empire. He reluctantly reached for his sword.

"Will you be here tomorrow? I want to see you again."

You looked at him with tenderness. "I will be. And I will wait for you."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

He kissed your hands with reverence, feasted his eyes on your sight one last time, and then disappeared into the darkening forest, leaving you full of feelings unknown to you.

"My dear child..."

A familiar, calm voice floated to you from nearby. You felt a warm breeze and soon Minerva, your lady, stood by your side. Her armor gleamed in the last rays of the setting sun.

"I didn't think mortals could be like this." You said, staring at the place where Marcus had disappeared. "No one warned me about this..."

"A great future awaits him. His destiny must be fulfilled." the goddess spoke gently.

"Marcus will do great things. Many lives are already tied to him..." your voice broke, tears welling up in your eyes "My lady..."

Minerva looked at you softly, her eyes full of infinite wisdom. No one and nothing could hide from her.

"Take this from me." you whispered, with each word your heart shattering into pieces "Take from me what doesn’t belong to me. Take him."

"Do you know what you are asking, child?" Minerva's face was gentle but determined "You don’t know his full destiny. This mortal loves you, his heart is pure. He will come here tomorrow, for you."

"My lady, we are not destined for what we both desire... And I don't want to watch life slip away from his eyes. Please..." tears were already running down your cheeks, but you didn't feel ashamed, it only proved what you felt "Please make him forget about me and take him out of my head too. It was a beautiful day, but I don't want to take away what is destined for him..."

"Are you sure? Will you deprive yourself of this love?"

You nodded. This decision was painful, but you couldn't do otherwise. Marcus was supposed to have a bright future, full of victories and glory. There was no place for you there.

"Let it be so, child." the goddess's hand, hot as the sun's rays, touched your cheek, Minerva leaned down and her lips brushed your forehead "Forget it, it is my will. Let this feeling fly away from you if it is not meant for you. And tomorrow, when he opens his eyes at dawn, he will no longer remember what happened here. May destiny be fulfilled." 

When the first rays of sunlight crept lazily into the camp tent, Marcus rubbed his eyes and stretched on the bed. A strange feeling of emptiness and loss filled his heart. He had the impression that he had lost something precious, something that he would never get back.

nymph. [1/2] l General Marcus Acacius

taglist: @ashleyfilm @gothcsz @littlenicpascal

@missladym1981 @axshadows @psychoenergy @sabsunflowergirl @pedrofan @heckzprince @hard-candy-writing

[tarotwithavi]

What kind of lovers do you attract/ are attracting?

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and gently close your eyes. Politely request your spirit guides to reveal the appropriate pile meant for you, then open your eyes. Whichever pile captures your attention is the one meant for you.

Masterlist

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Pile 1

Your energy has this amazing superpower to heal, like a magic balm for broken hearts. It's no wonder people are drawn to you like bees to honey. You're like a walking oasis of comfort for those who've had their share of love's bumps and bruises. Those you attract are the creative types, the ones who think outside the box and color outside the lines. You've got this magnetic pull for guitar-strumming, canvas-painting, poem-writing folks. You know, those artsy souls who've often danced with heartache. It's like your aura says, "Hey, bring on the creatives!" Your magnetism doesn't stop at artists. Nope, it goes all the way to the bank, you attract some deep-pocketed darlings. Money? Not an issue for them, they've got it going on. And oh boy, strength? Both mental and physical? It's like you've got this fiery aura that's a total strength magnet. And hold onto your hats because popularity is part of your package deal. You snag the ones who are well-liked, the ones everyone wants to hang around. It's like you've got this neon "cool people only" sign that shines super bright. The people you draw in might be total opposites of you. I know, wild, right? But hey, life's all about surprises.

Pile 2

So, this is my personal pile of hopeless romantics. Get ready, because the lovers you're pulling in? They're just like you. You're like a magnet for those total dreamers, the ones who see love as this magical, larger-than-life adventure. You know those who could fall in love with the idea of falling in love. Yep, that's who's knocking on your heart's door. You're also attracting a bunch of daydreamers , those people who view love through these super rosy glasses. It's like they're lost in this fairytale, and they're looking for their partner to be the co-star in their romantic movie of life. And guess what? Your energy is like a beacon for the brainiacs too. You're snagging those who are smart, logical, and always ready with a dose of sensible advice. They're a blend of both worlds. It's like they've got this epic tug-of-war between their dreamy side and their practical side, and you're right in the middle of that sweet balance. They might not be super experienced in the love department. It's like they're all about that puppy love, that innocent and genuine kind of affection. So, whether you're nodding your head like, "Yeah, that's me," or you're like, "Wait, what?" this is your magnetic vibe.

Pile 3

You've got this power to pull in super dedicated lovers. They're the ones who are all about their hustle, totally work-oriented, and maybe even more focused on their projects than on matters of the heart. But hold on tight, because you've also got a thing for those who date with marriage in mind. No casual hookups for you , it's all about those who are in it for the long haul. Now, let's talk about down-to-earth vibes. The ones you attract, They're as grounded as a sturdy oak tree. It's like they've got their feet planted firmly on the ground, which makes for a really solid connection. And speaking of connections, you're kind of a magnet for the old-school romantics. Yep, you're attracting those who've got a dash of old-fashioned love in their style. It's like they're straight out of a vintage love story. The lovers you're drawing in are all about stability and commitment. Heartbreak? Not on their agenda. These are the ones who are ready for the real deal, a relationship with a rock-solid foundation. So, if you've been worried about love's rollercoaster, fret not. Your vibe is all about that steady, unshakeable connection.

[deardaichi]

031. thrones, scrolls, and seals — oikawa toru.

wc: 0.5k cw: gn!reader. prince!oikawa. advisor!reader. pining if you squint a/n: pining oikawa my love. requested by @sweetseaweed <3 i hope you enjoy

the evening sun slips through the tall windows, throwing golden streaks across the stone floor. it catches in the lattice of shadows from the carved archways, pools quietly beneath the tapestries, and glints off the prince’s rings as he lounges on the throne like it's any other chair.

from the raised dais, the court is nearly empty now — dismissed hours ago — and yet the prince has not moved.

“you’re still here,” he says, chin balanced on one palm. “how dutiful.”

the only reply is the faint scratch of quill against parchment. on the heavy oak table, lit by the amber spill of sunlight, the latest merchant reports are being transcribed with careful precision.

“you asked for the trade records by nightfall.”

“mm,” he hums. “i did.”

he’s reclined halfway across the throne, legs stretched, crown tilted just enough to be undignified. the collar of his embroidered doublet is loosened, one sleeve shoved to the elbow. he looks every bit the picture of a prince unbothered by decorum, except for the way his eyes keep straying toward the table — measuring, watching.

it’s the third time today he’s tried to make eye contact for longer than necessary.

and it’s the third time the gesture has been ignored.

“and you’ve delivered, as always.” he leans forward now, forearms resting on his knees, voice low with something practiced. “what would i do without you?”

“overspend on citrus imports. sign treaties you haven’t read. forget your own speeches,” comes the reply, not unkind, but unshaken.

his grin is immediate — crooked and pleased. “i’d argue the citrus was a worthy investment.”

“you argued that last month. the council still disagrees.”

his fingers tap idly against the armrest, and the stone floor holds the echo. outside the windows, the wind stirs the garden trees. faintly, the scent of lavender drifts in with the breeze, mixing with parchment and wax.

he rises without ceremony, footsteps soft against worn rugs as he crosses to the table. there's a shift in the air — not loud, not sharp, but enough to be felt. the quill pauses. he rests one hand on the edge of the wood.

“stay a little longer,” he says, quieter now. “i haven’t had anyone clever to talk to all day.”

there’s no immediate answer. just the soft rustle of paper, the careful straightening of a scroll.

“you were in council with lord hanamaki for three hours.”

“exactly,” he sighs, hand to his chest like he’s been personally wronged. “three hours.”

finally, a glance. brief. measured. it lingers just a moment too long.

he smiles at that, as if the look alone is a gift.

the final report is sealed — neat and deliberate — wax pressed and cooling beneath careful fingers. there’s still a formality in the posture across from him, but it wavers, just slightly, around the edges.

the sun dips lower. orange light slipping toward dusk. it streaks across the table, the wall, the silver clasp at his throat.

neither one moves.

“five minutes,” comes the compromise.

he leans in, eyes bright.

“then i’ll make them count.”

taglist (open. ask to be added <3): @tangerinelovr @oligbia @megapteraurelia@iwantfoodpleasebuymefood @dira333 @kcandyliciouss@carm1lla@beee1221249qq@x3nafix @bambi-lia @sweetseaweed

© deardaichi | everything here is written with care — please don’t repost, copy, or alter my work without permission.

[starlightdreaming]

WELCOME TO LULULUNA!! YOUR SECOND HELL OF PAINNN MUAHAHAHA!!,!

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader! Ch. 2!

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel!

Content Warning: MORE ANGST! (Regret, consequences of actions and swearing and stuff idk)

Synopsis: Lucifer loved you but there was something in the way he couldn’t tell you, someone was always watching.

Further note: I WROTE TWO ANGSTS IN ONE DAY AND I PERSONALLY WANNA CRYINGNMUTFU KING EYES OUT SOMEONE GET ME THERAPYPLAES (not proofread BUT ENJOY!!) - ✨Lolo💫

Chapters!: Chapter 1 ✧ Chapter 2 (you are here) •<•)b ✧ Chapter 3 ✧ Chapter 4 ✧ Chapter 5

(NOW THIS CHAPTERS SONG IS:

to further improve reading, I recommend listening! (It helped me write this too))

｡･:*:･ﾟGoodbye Luna･ﾟ:｡*:･｡

The new job you had been assigned by the higher ups was pretty simple, just make stars, bring them to life, give them the ability to help others like the stars helped you in your depression, repeat!

You smiled down the streets of Halo city, seeing all your stars help others and help the community in general, for once, you felt rather proud of yourself, you were always working but that didn’t bother you at all, it helped you ease your mind as you made the little stars, it was your comfort and now its your job, this was a perfect absolute win - win!

After Emily came along into your life, you decided it was time for a change, she was always so bright and comforting, when you told her you were changing your name as a ‘new person’ she fully supported you! She had made sure to always call you your correct name and made sure others did as well, including her sister Sera.

It was such a new feeling.. to feel that you belong, it was heart warming. You don’t think you would change your life for anything else, seeing as Emily and Sera welcomed you like their own sister and there was nothing better than that.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

Lucifer sighed as he sat next to Lilith, crying, Lilith being there to comfort him as he leaned down onto her chest while she pat his head, “I know it hurts, dearest.” She comforts, “But we both know it was for the best, remember that..” She swoons, kissing his head gently, “It’s been so long, Lilith, I really miss her.” Lucifer whimpers before another tear fell from his face, he remembered the hurt in your eyes and that was taking a toll on his soul, “when the day comes, you can tell her everything about it, alright dear?” Lilith smiles gently, cupping his face to look at her, “I know, Lilith, it just… hurts.” he says before wiping his own tears, “But now that its done, I think it’s time we move to our next step..” Lucifer says as he stands up, taking Lilith’s hand into his own.

“Once we find Eve, give her the apple and my Luna will be free.” He smiles, walking toward the oak tree, seeing as how it was put back together with stars only you knew how to make but still definitely showed as damaged, his smile softened, knowing that this meant that he still had a chance to explain everything to you. He leaned against the tree whispering, “I’m sorry, Luna.” before he walked away with Lilith, hand in hand.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

You hummed to yourself, making stars in your office that was completely covered in stardust, you included.

You flew around your office as the stars floated around you, noting down on your white board on how to improve your stars, it was an everyday routine for you but sometimes… when you look out your office window and see all the Heaven born angels outside, you couldn’t help but miss that special somebody you could never see again, you often sat down in your chair, making silly constellations of Lucifer cause of your longing but remember the words he shouted at you would always make the constellation dissipate or shatter. You sighed before deciding maybe it was time for a break, lunch time it is!

You moved some stars out of the way as you tried to get out of your office, upon exiting your office you had to dust yourself off from all the star dust that glittered your clothes and hair, most would fall off but some would still stick to you, it wasn’t that important to clean yourself since you would be covered in the dust once you came back.

Upon flying around Halo City, a few stars had assisted you on serving your meal, taking your orders and working together as they chimed and squeaked as communication, this proving that your stars were successful to the community in Heaven, “thank you my children.” You smiled as your stars chimed at you, going back to work.

After eating, you decided to head back to work, feeling happy and full from your meal, leaving the little cafe, you flew back to your office, you paid no mind as you walked down the halls until you turned around the corner, “What do you mean I can’t see her? She’s my best friend!” A familiar voice shouted to an employee who was at your office door, You saw Lucifer who had completely disheveled hair and looked like he was in a frenzy, “Please, you don’t understand! I need to see her!” he pleaded again, you stared at them both from shock and surprise, your stomach getting a sinking feeling that maybe you should just run. The employee batted an eye at you before looking back at Lucifer, this made Lucifer to turn to your direction, the split second of eye contact he had made with you made you hide completely in the corner of the hall, ‘shit’ you thought as you started running off to who knows where, “Luna? Luna wait!!” Lucifer shouted to you, the name making you feel sick, you haven’t heard anyone call you that in a long time.

You tried to fly home, lock your doors and stay there for months until Lucifer was completely gone, but he caught up to you before you could even finish the thought, He held onto you dearly and tightly, you struggled in his grasp as he teleported you both to the garden of Eden, it was happening so quickly as you both fell to the ground, crashing, he protected you from the fall when you both imoacted into the grass, tumbling and rolling.

He grunted as he rolled into a tree, giving you the chance to kick away and crawl backwards away from him, your heart beating rapidly from the unexplained situation you were in, “What in the heavens is happening? get away from me!” You shouted, picking yourself up as you dusted yourself, stepping away from Lucifer, trying to brush off the dirt that got on your clothing.

Lucifer tried to recover but he seemed to have been hyperventilating to even care, “Listen, Luna-“ he tried to speak, “Don’t call me that!” you hissed, the name making spite fill your eyes, “You lost that ability to do so.” you say as you crossed your arms looking away in irritation, “Please- just- just listen to me,” Lucifer begged, “And why should I? after everything you did? everything you said??” You asked in a much higher tone, “I don’t have much time! please!” He begged, hugging you close in desperation, the hug was so unexpected to you, it felt sick and insulting, you pushed and punched him off you, “You think you can just touch me like you didn’t fuck up my life?!” You say as you recomposed yourself after pushing him away, tears were in his eyes, “I’m in so much trouble! you don’t understand!” he shouted, his voice cracking but that only made you more pissed, you couldn’t help but laugh as you started connecting that dots, “Oh I get it,” You say more irritated when you realized the situation, “You’re in trouble and since Lilith can’t help you, you’re asking ME for help? tch, please.” you rolled your eyes, turning away and waving him off, “That’s- That’s not it!” He cries, trying to hold you, “Luna, you have to listen! I gave an apple to Eve so she could have free will! and since she broke free from control, that means that-“ He tries to explain quickly but the Seraphim’s had arrived to your location, “Lucifer! You are to be silent!” A loud voice echoed, his eyes widening in fear, you turning to see Sera and other angels you weren’t aware of.

Lucifer looked up at the seraphim’s, down to you, then down to the ground with wide eyes full of tears, “I’m too late..” He whispers under his breath, only for you to hear, you turned to him confused as angels that looked similar to him began to hold him down, you stepping back in surprise, ‘what the hell did he do?’ you pondered to yourself, “and you, Y/n, what are you doing here?” Sera asks in her angel form, you crossed your arms looking away from Lucifer, “He dragged me here when I was trying to get to my office.” you explained, walking towards Sera and standing by her side as you watched Lucifer get dragged by a few angels, Lucifer looked at you with apologetic eyes but that only made you advert your gaze, not wanting or bothering to defend him like all the times you had done all the years you had been together, just like how he made you suffer alone, he was getting the same treatment now, karma at its finest.

Lucifer didn’t care what was happening to him, he just wanted to see you again, he wanted to look at you again, he wanted you to look at him, he did that all for you…! but at what cost…? you walked away with Sera, not even giving him a second glance. He looked down, wallowing in his guilt, “please come back to me, my Luna.” he whispered under his breath.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

You went back to your office with Sera, you expected to go back to work and do your usual, “You can’t work today, Y/n.” Sera ordered, “What? Why?” You asked in bewilderment, “Since you were with Lucifer before we could find him, you are now a witness.” Sera stated, you were shocked from this, “What do you mean? What did he do..?” You asked a little afraid to know the answer, Sera took a deep breath, feeling tired from how crazy the day seemed to have been for her, “A few days ago, Lucifer gave Adams’ new wife an apple.” Sera explained, “an apple?” you raised a brow, not understanding why an apple made the subject so serious, “Yes, an apple. It was made from the tree of knowledge, it gave her free will, she broke out of our control,” Sera continues as she paces in your office, pushing away stars that got in her way, “And because of that, evil has found it’s way to Earth.” Sera finishes as she looks down upset. You gasped when she finished, “Lucifer brought evil into creation that we spent so much time and effort into making??” You asked in complete shock, no wonder he came to find you, he wanted to use you as a defense to escape trouble, he was so selfish.

“Yes and now you will have to join us in court, since you were the closest to him.” Sera says as you advert your gaze from her, not feeling proud from the amount of years of your life that felt as they had gone to waste with a stranger far in the past.

“When is it?” You asked, “Since it’s urgent, it’s being held now.” Sera says, “Wait what-“ you say but before you could finish, you were teleported into the court room, you blinked twice before processing your surroundings, Lucifer at a table with Lilith, they both looked nervous, seeing the two of them together put you in a sour mood rather quickly.

“Since the Seraphim is here, I suggest this court meeting begins now,” A voice spoke, you look down at the person seeing a tall male that was quite charming, “Greetings everyone, My name is Azreal,” He said calmly and authoritative, “I am here today for the incident of evil breaching the creations of Earth, caused by; Lucifer Morningstar.” He states out, the public gallery gasping and whispering amongst each other as you looked at Lucifer, you felt worried for him and you hated that, he had betrayed your trust, he turned his back on you and your friendship, so why on Earth are you so worried about him? when Lucifer caught you staring you glared at him before turning away, continuing to listen to Azreal.

“We are gathered here to discuss the punishment Lucifer deserves after destroying the divine creations we had worked hard to make, do we have any ideas?” Azreal asks, waiting for anyone to answer, “Well obviously community service ain’t gonna help.” someone snarked, sarcastically.

“Yeah! all that hard work just for it to go down the drain in a blink of an eye? he deserves the worst of the worst!” A voice shouted angrily, others obliging as well, they began to argue and yell at Lucifer, you, watching as you put up a facade, staring nonchalant at Lucifer and Lilith. Lucifer hid under his hat worriedly as Lilith tried to hold his hand for comfort, you thought for a few moments, thinking about what they deserved.

Sera silenced the court room with a raise of her hand, “he should pay…” you mumbled quietly, only for Sera to catch on, “What was that, Y/n?” Sera asked, leaning down closer to you, “He should pay.. by living in his own mistake.” You say, confusing the higher elder.

when you broke that oak tree, it was the worst mistake of your life, all those memories were shattered into pieces and you tried.. so hard to put it back together, it did in the end but it barely stayed, despite that, you drowned yourself in guilt and sorrow, pain and sadness for months and you think, thats the perfect thing he should suffer from too.

“He should live in his mistake, create a realm of evil that he can drown in, it’s what…” you hesitate, hugging yourself to finish your sentence, “he deserves.” you finish, looking down at him and Lilith, you felt sadness and guilt, hatred and disgust all at the same time, you didn’t know how to react, this whole mess was beginning to give you a headache, he tried to use you to protect himself in all this mess and yet, all you wanted to do was cry and tell the court to forgive him! forgive and forget, but you were so full of hurt you couldn’t do either.

“don’t credit me for the idea, Sera,” you began to feel the tears escape, “please.” you pleaded silently. Sera understood and pat your head gently, “If you could listen, I have an option.” Sera calls, the court listening as you hid from everyone’s view, “We can make Lucifer face the consequences of his actions by making him drown in his own mistakes,” Sera says, trying to go off by your words, “we can create a realm of evil, so only it stays far away from the grasps of Heaven, Lucifer can be sent to the realm, to face the actions he had committed.” She finishes, Lucifer and Lilith’s mouths a gap, looking at Sera in disbelief, the court room began to murmur and whisper amongst themselves in a more calm manner, “That sounds like a fantastic idea!” Azreal smiled, “Very well then, all those in favor, raise your hand,” he says, raising his own as 99.9% of the court raised their hands into the favor, Lucifer looked around, fear rising in him but the sliver of hope was withheld when he saw you staring at him with dull, lifeless sad eyes, he looked at you pleading for help, but in this situation, you can’t.

“Miss Y/n.” Azreal called, “Is there a reason you aren’t raising your hand?” He smiles at you charmingly, you still stared at Lucifer before turning away from his gaze, slowly raising your hand… The small chance of hope burnt out when he saw your arm raised, the pain in his eyes showed, “Luna, please! you have to understand!-“ He begged, trying to go for a last ditch effort. When he called you by that name you glared at him, infuriated that he was desperately trying to get you back only when he needed you most, you leaned over the balcony, tired of his whining and crying for you, of all times he could have asked for forgiveness, he chose the time when he was in deep shit of trouble, “What. in GODS NAME do you want from me?” you sweared beyond the swearing of swears in front of the court, making everyone gasp but you didn’t care.

You flew down to the table he sat at, Azreal moving to the side, interested in the things about to unfold, “Of all the times you could have came to me, to ask for our friendship back, you choose the time you desperately needed to use me,” You snarled, “I’m sick of your shit Lucifer, you never needed me and you made that VERY CLEAR, the moment you told me to step out of your life AND I DID.” you said poking his chest, your angelic form appearing.

“You deserve this and we. both. know. it.” you finished as he looked at you with guilt in his eyes, hurt and regret, “I didn’t ask for things to turn out like this,” He said weakly, you stepped back from him to give him space, “I love you, My Luna.” He confesses in complete heartbreak, his hand to his chest as he cries, Lilith watching as she comforts him, your eyes widen from his statement as the court gasps, “What the fuck are you saying? you love Lilith!” you shouted at him in full confidence, “See? you don’t understand,” He cries, you were puzzled and insulted from his confessions, it put your mind into a frenzy, “Lilith and I were secretive because-“ “I don’t want to hear your sorry, pathetic, excuses!” You shouted at him, your chest huffing from the stress he keeps pressuring you into, “My name is NOT Luna, YOU never loved me, you chose Lilith over me, you chose EVERYTHING ABOUT Lilith over me! you love me? what a fucking joke!” you barked, Lucifer sitting down in his own chair, “I’m going to say it since you can’t seem to understand, if you want me out of your life,” you say pointing to yourself, walking to him, “then I don’t want YOU in my life.” you finish pointing to him, hatred in your eyes as he looked at you with tears falling.

it was silent in the court room, no one dared to speak up from the tension, until Lucifer swallowed before saying one simple word that forever decided what would happen between both you, Lilith and Lucifer, “Please…” he begged one last time, you squint your eyes, understanding that no matter what you say, it will never get through to his head, so you decided to be the final push of this pure broken relationship.

“Azreal, send them away.” You ordered, turning away from them both, standing behind Azreal as he walked up to them, “Guess it’s done and over then, you heard the seraphim.” Azreal smiles, Lucifers eyes widening, “Luna, Luna! please!” Lucifer begged but you ignored his calling as Azreal opened a portal.

Lilith and Lucifer held onto each other as angels forced them to go into the portal, angelic spears making them walk into their own fate, “Going down?” Azreal joked as he made Lucifer trip backwards, falling into the portal with Lilith at his side, his wings holding her up as he held onto the edge of the portal, left hanging with Lilith in his arm. Azreal smiled and waved before standing back.

“Lilith hold on, okay?” He says, looking down at her as she held onto him with his other hand. When he looked back up, his eyes widen when you appear above him, your demeanor was just pure sadness, lifeless and dull and finally for once in years, he sees a smile crack on your face, one of just pure neglect and hurt, he couldn’t look away, although he did this all for you, you would never understand why, this was not the smile he wanted to see on your face, this isn’t what he wanted or what he was trying to do for you, he wanted you to be free… and now that you are, he couldn’t share it with you…

You held his hand gently, slowly sliding it off the edge, taking it into your own, he looked at you desperately, “Just let go, Luci,” you said with a soft voice and a lifeless smile, as you slowly slid his hand off your own, loosening your grip, “Just let me go, Lucifer.” you begged, the tears falling from your eyes and onto his face made him cry as well, “Please.” You say as you let go of him, he only stared at you as he hugged Lilith, protecting her from the long fall he was going to have to endure, despite falling, his hand reached out to you still, his Luna, disappearing before his very eyes…

that’s when he realized…

he will never get the chance to give you a proper goodbye, a proper explanation… a proper confession.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

(sorry if anything is confusing, my brain likes to confuzzle itself so ask me any questions!!!3$3$)

TAGLIST WWEOOEOO:

@ag-cookiebat800 @meow-meowo @kyo-kyo1

[yvesssssssss]

A simple gesture

It had been years since Yoichi Nagumo had last visited his childhood home. The old neighborhood was quieter now, the streets lined with unfamiliar faces. Yet, some things never changed—the familiar scent of the old bakery, the rustling of leaves in the breeze, and, of course, the spot where he used to meet her.

(Name).

She had been his best friend since they were little. They’d run through the streets, played in the park, and shared countless memories. But Yoichi had never been able to tell her how he felt—not then, and not now, even after all these years.

Yoichi hadn’t changed much on the outside—his serious demeanor, sharp eyes, and the reputation he’d built as an assassin—but inside, things were different. The brutal world he had grown accustomed to felt distant in this quiet place, and all he could think of was (name).

He had promised her once, back when they were young, that they’d always be there for each other. He never expected their paths to diverge so dramatically, with him taking on such a dangerous life. But still, here he was, trying to hold onto those old promises.

The park was empty when he arrived, except for one person sitting on the same old bench under the large oak tree—the tree they used to climb together. (Name) was looking up at the sky, her brown hair falling gently around her face, lost in thought. She looked the same, and yet, different.

She turned when she heard his footsteps, her eyes brightening as she recognized him instantly.

"Yoichi!" Her voice was like a breath of fresh air, full of warmth. "I didn’t expect to see you today. You look... different, but still the same."

Nagumo couldn’t help but smile at her teasing tone, even though his heart was pounding. "I’ve changed a lot, (name)," he said, sitting down beside her. "But I guess some things don’t change."

(Name) raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

Nagumo hesitated. The words he had rehearsed in his mind so many times were stuck in his throat. But he couldn’t keep running from it anymore. Not here. Not with her.

"Like how I’ve always looked out for you," nagumo began, his voice quieter than usual. "I’ve always wanted to protect you. But lately… I’ve been wondering if I’m protecting you because it’s what I think I should do—or because I… care about you more than just as a friend."

(Name) blinked, surprise flickering in her eyes. Her expression softened as she turned to face him fully.

"You've always been there for me, Yoichi. I’ve never doubted that," she said gently. "But… you’re right. Things are different now, aren't they?"

Nagumo nodded, his heart racing. "I don’t want to keep pretending that I’m just your friend when I know I feel something more. I don’t know how to say it, but… I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time."

(Name)'s eyes widened, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Nagumo was sure he had said too much. He had always been the quiet, serious one. Not the type to open up. But (name) just smiled, a soft, understanding smile.

"You’ve always been so serious," she said, her voice tender. "I’m glad you said it. Because… I’ve felt the same way for a while now."

Nagumo's eyes searched hers, trying to process her words. Could it really be true? Did she… feel the same?

(Name) took his hand, her fingers brushing against his, and the warmth of her touch sent a wave of calm over him. "You’re not the only one who’s been hiding something."

Nagumo's chest tightened with a mixture of relief and happiness. The weight that had been on his shoulders for so long lifted, and for the first time in years, he allowed himself to smile freely, his eyes softening as he looked at her.

"I guess I’ve been an idiot, huh?" he said with a small, sheepish grin. "I didn’t know how to say it, but I think I finally got it right."

(Name) laughed lightly, the sound filling the air around them like music. "You weren’t an idiot, Yoichi. You were just waiting for the right moment. And I’m glad you did."

The two of them sat there, hand in hand, as the sun began to set behind the trees, casting a warm glow over the park. There was no need for words anymore. The simple gesture of holding hands, of finally acknowledging the feelings they had both kept hidden for so long, was enough.

In that quiet moment, Nagumo realized that, despite the battles he had fought, the enemies he had faced, and the dangerous life he had lived, this was the true victory. Being here with (name), sharing this peaceful moment, was all he had ever needed.

And maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something beautiful.

[princesskenny1998]

Hey! ^.^

I was wondering if you would write about a muggleborn fem!Ravenclaw!reader with Draco based on the Taylor Swift song, “But Daddy I Love Him”?

I thought it would be fun and I think Draco is a perfect fit for the main man of this song? Possibly because muggle parents heard about the powerful and slightly dangerous Malfoys?

Thank you if you do, and take care! 🤍

Hello <3 So, this is absolutely not my music bubble but I think I managed, hope you like it!

Harry Potter | Draco Malfoy x muggleborn!f!ravenclaw!reader ~ "But Daddy, I love him!"

The rain drizzled steadily against the windowpane, casting shadows across your open book, but you couldn’t focus on the text. The words blurred together, and you turned another page without reading it, your thoughts drifting back to the same place they always did when you were alone—back to Draco.

It had been a stormy and unexpected beginning, the kind of whirlwind that your parents would call a “bad influence” if they only knew half the truth. You were a Muggleborn Ravenclaw—a daughter of a family who, before Hogwarts, had only known the mundane world of academics and structured expectations. Your parents were good people, but they were grounded in a strict, almost suffocating sense of normalcy.

To them, the Wizarding World was a barely-understood mystery, something that they could accept on a superficial level but never truly comprehend. And when they heard whispers of the Malfoy family—of their history, their blood ties to the dark, ancient magic that had once gripped the wizarding world in fear—their acceptance turned to suspicion. They warned you, tried to cage you in with rules and boundaries even though they couldn’t set foot in the world you were growing into. They didn’t understand.

But you did. Or at least, you understood that Draco Malfoy, despite everything they’d heard, had become more than just the boy from the infamous family. He was chaos, he was raw emotion and jagged edges, and he made you feel alive in a way that studying, excelling, and being the perfect daughter never could.

The first time you kissed, it had been under the shadow of the Forbidden Forest.

It was your fifth year, and you’d stumbled across him in a rare, vulnerable moment, leaning against the base of a massive oak tree with his hair disheveled and a tired, haunted look in his eyes. You hadn’t meant to stay, but something in the way he looked at you—like you were the last person in the world he wanted to see, but also the only one he needed—kept your feet planted firmly in the cool, dewy grass. You didn’t know who moved first, but the moment his lips brushed yours, it was like a spark ignited, and suddenly you were drowning in a fire you didn’t want to escape.

From there, it was a flurry of stolen moments and whispered secrets, hands brushing under the table in the library, secret smiles shared across the Great Hall when no one else was looking. The world outside didn’t matter when it was just the two of you, and he wasn’t the cold, arrogant Slytherin heir—he was just Draco, and you were his girl.

It wasn’t long before you fell in love with his contradictions. The way he could be cruel and indifferent to everyone else, but soft and careful when it came to you. How he kissed you like he was starving, like he needed you more than he needed air. You knew he had his demons, and that he kept secrets even from you, but you didn’t care. He was wild, unpredictable, and imperfect, and you didn’t want anyone else.

But things changed before your seventh year, when the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface for years finally came to a head. You hadn't been able to return to Hogwarts, with your blood status it was prohibited and way too dangerous. Instead you had stayed hidden, blending in in the muggle world until the fateful day Draco had found you and told you that Voldemort was finally gone.

The war was over, but the scars remained, and Draco was still struggling to shed the weight of his family’s dark legacy. Your parents had heard too much, asked too many questions, and when they learned that the boy you were sneaking off to see was a Malfoy, they had reacted with horror.

You remembered that conversation vividly. Your father’s face had turned a deep, angry red as he slammed the Daily Prophet down on the kitchen table, a recent article about the Malfoy trial spread across the pages. “He’s dangerous,” your father had said, his voice shaking with barely restrained fury. “He and his family—they were on the wrong side. They were Death Eaters. How can you even think of being with him?”

Your mother, usually the more lenient of the two, had been equally resolute, her eyes hard and disapproving. “You can’t see him anymore,” she had declared. “We’ve let you live in that magical world, but this is too much. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

They couldn’t understand. They didn’t know the way he held you when you were falling apart, or how he’d open up in rare, unguarded moments when he thought no one could see him. They hadn’t seen the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, or the way his hands shook when he thought you were angry at him. They only knew his last name, and the darkness that it carried, and they refused to look past it.

But you had never been one to follow the rules you thought didn't make sense.

So you continued to sneak away, seeing Draco in secret, the thrill of the forbidden heightening every touch, every stolen kiss. It was reckless, you knew, and every time you returned home, your parents’ questions grew more pointed, their suspicion turning into bitter arguments. They couldn’t understand why you refused to talk about your life, why you looked away when they mentioned the Malfoys, why you were no longer the dutiful, predictable daughter they had raised.

You lied to them, skillfully and effortlessly, until the lies became second nature. You buried the truth so deeply that even you began to lose track of where the deception ended and the reality began. They tried to pull you back, to anchor you to the safe, Muggle life they had planned, but Hogwarts had changed you. Draco had changed you.

Back at school, the tension only grew, a knot tightening around your heart. You and Draco were spiraling, caught in a cycle of passionate fights and desperate reconciliations. He was different this year—quieter, more withdrawn, as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Sometimes you’d catch glimpses of the darkness in his gaze, and it would scare you, but you never turned away. You were in too deep, and you had never been very good at letting go of the things you loved.

One rainy evening in mid-October, you sat alone in the Ravenclaw common room, staring into the fire, your parents’ words echoing in your mind. They had written you another letter—one of many—begging you to come home for good, to leave the “dangerous and untrustworthy” boy who had stolen your heart. You’d torn the letter to pieces and thrown it into the fire, watching the edges curl and blacken until nothing remained but ashes.

But you couldn’t burn away the doubts. They lingered, coiling in the back of your mind like smoke, and it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

“Maybe they’re right,” Draco said one night, his voice low and rough.

You were sitting together by the Black Lake, hidden under the cover of the trees, his arms wrapped around you as the moon cast silver light over the rippling water. He looked down at you, his eyes shadowed and weary, and you saw the fear there—the fear that he would lose you, that he was dragging you down into the darkness that had swallowed his family whole.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be with me,” he continued, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Maybe you deserve better.”

You pulled back, your heart breaking at the emptiness in his eyes. “Don’t say that,” you said fiercely, cupping his face in your hands. “You’re not dangerous. You’re not your family, Draco. I don’t care what they say—I’m not leaving you.”

He stared at you, his eyes searching yours, and for a moment you thought he was going to argue. But then his expression crumpled, and he kissed you—hard and desperate, like he was drowning and you were the only thing keeping him afloat. You kissed him back, pouring all of your defiance and love into that single moment, feeling the rush of rebellion and freedom wash over you like a tidal wave.

The storm finally broke over Christmas break.

You had come home for the holidays, reluctantly answering your parents’ demands that you spend time with them, but every conversation had been tense and stilted. They pressed you about school, about Draco, about the things you wouldn’t tell them, and you had retreated behind walls of silence and half-truths, your patience fraying with every passing day.

It was on Christmas Eve that the argument exploded, a blistering confrontation that left you breathless and furious. Your father had found one of the letters Draco had written to you—tucked away in your room, a place you thought was safe—and he had read every word, his face growing redder and redder with each line.

“He’s using you!” your father had shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. “Can’t you see that? He’s dragging you down, pulling you into his mess—”

“But, Daddy, I love him!” you had shouted back, your own voice hoarse with rage. “You don’t know him! You’ve never even met him, and you never will, because you don’t want to understand. You just want me to be the person you think I should be!”

Your mother had tried to step in, her face pale and drawn, but you had pushed past her, running out of the house and into the cold, biting winter night. You ran until your lungs burned, until your tears froze on your cheeks, and when you stopped, it was only because you had nowhere else to go.

That was when you made your choice.

You didn’t return home after Christmas. Instead, you sent an owl to Hogwarts, arranging to stay at the castle over the break, and you disappeared from your parents lives. The letters they sent went unanswered, unopened, left to pile up in a dusty corner of your dormitory where you pretended they didn’t exist. You were done playing the perfect daughter. You were done hiding who you were.

The spring of your seventh year was a blur of emotions and defiance, of laughter and tears and all the messy, beautiful chaos that defined your relationship with Draco. You were reckless together, daring the world to stop you, and every time you thought you were about to fall apart, he was there to catch you.

The day of your graduation Draco had pulled you into his arms, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe, then you had felt something inside you settle. This was your choice, your life, and you would fight for it until the end.

Years later, the scandal had faded, and the once judgmental eyes of your friends and families had turned to other stories. Your parents, though still wary, had begun to accept your decision, realizing that you were determined to build a life that they couldn’t dictate with or without them.

There were scars left behind, but they no longer hurt the way they once did. Draco was still unpredictable, still complicated and infuriating, but he was yours, and the life you had built together was more than you ever dreamed it could be.

The past, with all its secrets and shadows, no longer mattered.

All that mattered was that you had chosen him, and you would never look back.

[applebutter-and-cinnamon]

Breath of Life

Pairing: Joe Rantz x OC (Sadie)

Warnings: Drowning, Choking on Water, Passing out, Being unable to swim

Disclaimer: I've never actually drowned before, so if I've gotten some things wrong I apologize.

Boys in the Boat Masterlist

This is not meant to be a reflection of the real person that was portrayed in the Boys in the Boat. It is a work of fiction.

Joe's lungs were burning when Bobby finally yelled at them to ease up. Coach Ulbrickson signaled at them to head back to the docks when they were ready before speeding off in his boat ahead of them.

It was an unusually sunny day in Seattle. The water was calm and they had glided through the water easily all throughout practice. He was winded and tired, but in a remarkably good mood. The boys ahead and behind him were tilting their heads back toward the sun and running their fingers through the crisp water outside their boat.

Bobby let them all rest a moment before signaling with a shout to begin rowing back to the shell house. They rowed as if each passing second was a luxury. He and the rest of his shells crew were a well-oiled unit when they were all focused on keeping their heads in the boat and nowhere but in the boat.

They pulled up to the docks, pulled themselves out of the shell, and carried it out of the water into the shell house. Bobby, who was too short to be much of a help in carrying it, walked in front of them. He cleared the way and opened doors, making it easier for them to store it quickly.

Joe only felt the day catch up to him when they hit the showers and he felt the long, continuous stream of water falling softly against the skin of his back. He was hoping to see Sadie later in the day, she liked to study under a giant oak tree after her last lecture of the day and if he caught her in a good mood, he thought he might be able to convince her to study later and spend some time with him instead.

He wasn't the only guy in the boat with a girl he was eager to get to after practice. Roger had a date lined up with his Annie and Shorty had said something earlier about meeting up with a new girl that he'd met the previous night. Joe had never seen Don with a girl, but he was pretty sure that his stroke had plans to study with Bobby.

Joe toweled off and dressed himself quickly, his mind navigating the quickest path towards the oak tree that Sadie loved. He'd finished tying his shoes when the first desperate screams of a young woman echoed through the boathouse.

There was a brief moment, when the guys shared shocked looks with one another before they all burst into motion. Leaving through the locker room door and out into the main storage room of the shell house. Moving quickly, he was able to see the coaches also peaking their heads out of their office in alarm. Mr. Pocock appeared too, out of the workshop on the second story and holding a tool in his right hand.

To Joe's surprise he recognized the girl who was panicking desperately in the face of one of the freshman boys. It was Lily, one of Sadie's friends, who was pulling harshly at the boys arm trying to get him to follow her.

"Lily?" She turned toward him the second he called out her name in confusion. Her eyes were filled with tears that were pouring down her cheeks as she hurried over to him, grabbing his arm and pulling her with him. She was breathing so hard that it was hard to understand what she was saying outside of an obvious call for help. "What's wrong? What is it?"

He didn't like the look she was giving him. It was so full of not just fear, but blood curdling panic. It wasn't for her though, it seemed to be for someone else and at the way she was gripping his arm, turning it white with her strength, Joe had a stomach dropping feeling at who it might be for.

"It's Sadie, someone pushed her in the water."

~~~

Sadie tilted her head back, basking in the beautiful Seattle sunshine. It had been days, upon days of endless rainfall and when the clouds had parted to reveal the sun's golden rays shining through the windows in her lecture hall, she couldn't help but smile. Thankfully, her professor had also seen the rare sunshine and had released them early for the day, rushing his way out ahead of everyone else.

Following the rest of her classmates out into the warm air, Sadie saw the oak tree that normally pulled her to rest beneath it's offer of shade. Whether to study or to stare at a cloudy sky, she normally would take it up on it's offer of respite.

Sadie glanced down at the watch on her wrist, she'd gotten out of her lecture early enough that if she hurried, she might be able to catch Joe after practice. She missed him. He had been extremely busy between rowing, saving money up for his tuition, and his homework that it had been hard for them to find the time to spend together. She was determined to find the time to spend with him today.

She redirected her course and set out for the University of Washington's shell house. It was a little bit far from where her lecture was, but it was so nice out that Sadie found herself enjoying the walk. The breeze messed her hair but it also carried the scent of fresh water and sweet grass. She had to meander around groups of other students but it was so nice to see everyone smiling instead of rushing from building to building.

The ground grew steeper, sloping down towards the water's edge as she drew closer. From a distance, she could make out a group of tall, young men carrying their boats inside. She couldn't see Joe's crew but there wasn't anyone else out on the water either so she assumed that he was inside showering and resigned herself to waiting.

She had begun to look for a large tree to occupy her time under when she spotted a flickering hand in the air, waving back and forth to get her attention. Following the hand down, she was met with the dazzling white smile of Lily. She was smiling so hard that Sadie wondered if her cheeks were hurting, nevertheless, Sadie couldn't help but smile back at her, waving as she did.

"Come over here," Lily yelled, waving her over to where she rested on one of the floating docks. Sadie hesitated.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. Many of the other students liked to lay on the docks during nice weather to watch the rowing teams compete at the end of practice, but Sadie, who had never learned to swim had always found herself a bit uneasy on the docks. They had no railing and the water stretched endlessly down below them.

When Joe had taken her out to row she'd been nervous enough to distract herself from the uneasiness of being out on the open water. Plus, Joe had kept a steady hand on the small of her back, keeping her upright whenever she stumbled. Where Lily was on the docks, she'd have to navigate down a good portion of floating wood around some of the other students who were standing to leave now that practice was over and heading in the other direction.

Sadie glanced at the shell house, thinking over her own fears and looked back to where Lily was smiling brightly. It couldn't hurt, she guessed, and she wouldn't have to stay long. Once Joe came out she could quickly head back to the safety that was dry ground and spend the rest of her evening with her beau.

"Sadie!" Lily called again, laughing slightly in bewilderment at the stalled movement of her friend.

She forced a bright smile and placed a hesitant foot on the first slat of wood, "I'm coming!"

She kept one arm around her school books keeping them close to her chest as more of a comforting pressure than to keep them from falling in the water and she used her other arm, low as it was by her side, for stability. Sadie moved slowly, as courageous as she was trying to be, she could feel how hard her heart pounded and was perfectly fine with taking her time.

Moving quickly in the other direction, the last group of students on the docks walked by her and jostled the wood slightly as they did. She inhaled sharply at the movement then smiling politely as they tossed her concerned glances at the noise. She waited a moment for the dock to steady then continued on at her leisurely pace.

Sadie glanced up to measure the amount of distance remaining between herself and Lily. It wasn't too much further and then she could lower herself on the blue cotton blanket that Lily had spread out carefully to sit on. She'd already quirked a brow to begin saying something to Lily when the thud of rapid footsteps came up behind her. Sadie didn't have time to look to see who it was before they slammed into her shoulders and knocked her unsteady.

Her books slipped from their careful placement against her chest as her feet slid out from beneath her. She only had enough time to draw in a quick breath before she felt the water close around her head.

It was shockingly cold, she thought to herself. Distantly, she could make out the panicked voice of Lily calling out something above the water. Sadie knew enough about swimming to know that she needed to use her legs to propel herself up the surface of the water. Struggling, she kicked her legs, feeling her shoes slide off of her feet as she did. The water swished around her, moving her up before something tightened at her ankle pulling her back slightly, just as her outstretched finger broke the surface of the water.

She looked down to see a tangled strip of net caught around her ankle. Curling down, she did her best to loosen the net to free her foot from it's confines. Her lungs were burning with the desire to inhale and somewhere in the back of her mind, behind the panic that was building inside of her, she scolded herself for every other time in her life that she'd taken for granted the ability to breathe easily.

The water embraced her, keeping her in it's icy hold and caressing her hair as it floated all about her. It was beautiful, the way the sunlight trickled down through the surface of the water in golden rays. The sun was getting dimmer by the second and she wondered if she were sinking further down.

She couldn't hear Lily's voice anymore and but she hadn't caught the moment it had stopped. What she could hear was the hard pounding of her heart in her head, pounding just as hard as it had the first time she saw Joe smile.

In the next instant the water around her shook, moving her about in the water and bubbles danced along her skin. Rough, warm hands grabbed under her arms in an attempt to pull her up, halting only as the net pulled her back down. Sadie guessed it pulled her farther down this time as the sun's rays continued to disappear from her view.

The same rough hands grabbed her cheeks, shaking her gently and she forced her eyes open. The sun, she thought confused, was starting to look an awful lot like Joe. A very concerned and panicked Joe.

The urge to inhale was too strong for her to resist and her muscle began to work despite her telling it not too, forcing her to inhale a large lungful of icy water. Her body convulsed; hard.

The water shook again, moving further below her and she felt a vibrating sensation from the net around her ankle. She didn't have the energy to look down anymore though, instead, Sadie let her eyes fall closed.

The vibrating stopped after what could've been a moment and she felt herself being pulled through the water again. Rough hands were holding her close to a warm body and she let herself rest there as the world faded into nothing.

Distantly, in the part of her brain that was still working, Sadie was aware of many sets of hands pulling her out of the water and away from the warm chest she'd been resting on. In that same part of her brain, she could hear the panicked voices of Joe's crew as they scrambled around her.

It only took a moment for the familiar rough hands to come back to her, holding her cheeks tenderly for only a moment before she felt firm pressure on her chest. Those hands worked repeatedly against her chest for a moment before they parted her lips. Joe's lips slotted against hers, blowing warm breath into her mouth.

The hands stopped for a moment before picking back up, quicker and with more determination. Hands. Pressure. Lips and breath. Hands. Pressure. Lips and breath. Hands. Pressure. Lips and breath.

After a moment, her brain latched onto the repeated sound of Joe's voice in her ear.

"C'mon baby," he was saying, voice huffing as he worked. Joe's lips pressed against hers and as he breathed into her, she felt something begin to work its way up her lungs.

"Come back to me, Sweetheart," Joe sounded desperate, bordering on hysterical as he called out to her. His lips pressed against her's again, pushing the air into her lungs and this time Sadie forced her eyes open.

Joe knelt above her, blonde hair and a very pale face dripping with water. His eyes trained onto her every movement, while his face was twisted into a pained expression. His endlessly blue eyes were full of tears that he refused to let fall down his face as he concentrated on Sadie.

She gazed at him, unblinking. To her, he looked like the Greek gods of old with his wet, tan skin and shining gold hair. It could very well have been Poseidon or Apollo who had decided to bless her with their presence. Sadie couldn't understand though, why someone so beautiful would be crying and internally cursed whatever situation had put him through such anguish, to hell.

Sadie thought all of this in the split second between when she opened her eyes and when the water surged forward from her lungs back out through her mouth. It spilled over her lips and she felt herself being twisted onto her side as she coughed it out. A large hand rubbing her back as she did. She braced her weight on a shaking elbow so she could cough without hitting her head against the wood.

"There you go, Sadie," Joe encouraged, voice still strained. "Get it all out."

Every breath of air into her lungs caused more water to gush out, burning it's way out of her body. Sadie groaned, she had no idea that water could burn, had thought up until this moment in her life, that it was supposed to be fire's job to burn.

Around her, she could hear the sound of relieved murmuring voices that she had begun to recognize as Joe's crew. After a few agonizing breaths she forced herself to sit up, ignoring the voices telling her to lay down and slumped against Joe, who immediately wrapped her in his arms, supporting all of her weight.

She tucked her head into the darkness between his neck and his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat and listening to his breathing. Sadie forced the oxygen in her own lungs to mimic his rhythm and after a few breaths, Joe caught on to what she was doing.

He began exaggerating his breathing, forcing slow and steady breaths that she could replicate on her own. When she felt like she could breath at a normal rate without focusing all of her brain power to it, she pulled back to look around.

It couldn't have been too much longer since she went under. Lily's blanket was underneath her, the sun was still shining brightly, and the breeze was rustling the leaves of the trees around her. Don Hume was dripping wet, standing closest to them while six other crew members from Joe's boat stood closely behind him. Chuck Day with his arm around a crying Lily.

Joe gripped her cheek with one of his hands, drawing her attention back to him, "I'm going to carry you to the shell house, alright?" His voice trembled slightly but after she nodded her consent, he picked her up and held her securely against his chest. She rested her head against his shoulder, closed her eyes and let his steady rhythm of footfalls lull her away.

~~~

When Sadie gained consciousness, she was still in Joe's arms but they were not outside and they were not in the main room of the shell house. She was laying down on a small, twin mattress with her head resting on Joe's chest. His arms were holding her securely to him. He clung to her like she might slip away at any moment.

She recognized this room from when she'd been in it in passing. It was Joe's room, the one that he shared with Roger Davis, though Roger wasn't in it at present. Light shone through the closed blinds, but it was a soft pink of morning instead of the golden yellow of the afternoon.

As she looked around, she felt Joe stir against her. His eyes fluttered open, took in the fact that she was awake and that she was watching him. He seemed more relaxed now, though she made a mental note of the fact that he seemed unable to stop himself from touching her in some way.

"Hey there," his voice rumbled from deep in his chest, still rough with sleep. His eyes were soft and his thumb was rubbing small circles in the small of her back.

Sadie offered him a weak smile, "Hey."

His forehead was wrinkled with worry. "You gave me quite a scare," he confessed to her.

Sadie nodded, dropping her gaze from his. She brought her hand that was between them up to the center of his chest, drawing small shapes as she composed her thoughts.

Joe was quiet, content to lay with Sadie in his arms. She cleared her throat, "What happened?"

At her question, Joe began to sit up slightly and cradled her face in his hands as he studied her eyes and face. "You don't remember falling in the lake yesterday?"

Sadie reached up to hold one of his wrists in her hand, "I remember that part. I don't remember much else after slipping into the water."

"Lily came into the shell house, completely panicking," Joe started. "She said that you'd slipped into the water and hadn't come back out."

Joe stared at the wall as he recalled it to her. His eyes full of anguish and his grip on her tightened with the need to convince himself that she was beside him.

"We followed her out to where you'd fallen in and I jumped in to grab you out but you were stuck on something. Thankfully, Don noticed and jumped in after me. He had a pocket knife that he used to cut you free."

Sadie nodded, it all checked out to her. She could remember the vibrating sensation dancing up her foot while she was in the water.

"You couldn't have been in there for very long, but by the time we pulled you out, your lips were blue. You weren't breathing," Joe paused, breathing deeply. His eyes fell shut and he leaned his forehead against hers.

They rested like that for a short time while Joe tried to calm himself down, clutching to her like she was a lifeline. After a bit, Sadie pulled back and Joe opened his eyes to look at her. They were both sitting upright now but she rose up on her knees, hearing the mattress groan as she did.

She grabbed onto Joe's shoulders to steady herself and swung one of her legs across Joe's hips so that she was straddling him. His hands came up to rest on her hips, stabilizing her as she sat down on his thighs.

Sadie slid her hands from his shoulders and into his hair, caressing his blonde curls and massaging his scalp until his shoulders released the tension he was holding there.

Joe cleared his throat and looked at her, "You weren't breathing so we did CPR until you were. I carried you back to the shell house, Bobby had run to grab a Doctor while I went in after you so they checked you out."

"What did they say?" She asked, moving her thumbs up to smooth his temples. Joe leaning into her touch as she did.

"You were awake for that part," he hummed, "But, you feel back asleep pretty quickly after. Doc said you were fine and that you'd need to take it easy for the next couple of days. You were pretty out of it though, so I took you in here and we both fell asleep."

She shivered and Joe brought the quilt that was covering them both to wrap more tightly around her shoulders, while pulling her closer to him. "Thank you," she whispered.

He shook his head, "Please, don't ever do that again. I don't think I can handle it."

She laughed blankly, "I wasn't really trying to do it the first time either."

Joe nodded, "I know." He cupped her cheeks and brought her in for a slow, warm kiss that had her melting into his touch. It was a kiss that told her just how worried he had been and how glad he was to have her near him now.

Sadie responded in kind, gliding her hands across his skin and pouring all of her love for him into their kiss. Joe's hands flexed against her hips and turning his head, he deepened their kiss. His tongue parted her lips and he kissed her until all Sadie could taste, feel and hear was Joe Rantz.

A/N: Y'all I fell in love with this idea and was having such a fun time writing it up until the end. It sort of died there lol. Thanks for sticking it out til then and I'll do my best to keep writing for the boys.

[acesw]

Knowing our Arcanists 13: Matilda

Welcome to entry thirteen of my series: "Knowing our Arcanists"! This is a series in which I introduce and tell the stories of our fellow characters in Reverse: 1999. Today we have: Matilda!

We love our girlfailure in this house. I think Matilda is heavily mischaracterized by the fandom, mainly defined by her silly tangents about Sonetto. But I think there's a lot more to her character than what we first see, so lets get started.

Matilda Bouanich is a French arcanist born in the 1990s. The arcane skill that she was born with is a variation of divination, well known as scrying or crystal ball divination. A young girl with a competitive spirit, Matilda is an incredibly active individual who takes pride in her abilities as a Foundation Investigator and Monitor Assistant.

She hails from the wealthy and famous Bouanich family, who are a long line of arcanists known for their divination skills. At a young age, she was an excellent performer in school and continuously worked to being the best of the best. After seeing one of their parades at the time, she decided to join the SPDM to prove her abilities despite being past the typical enrollment age.

She was able to move up levels and rise in ranks, becoming part of the top 3 students that performed well academically among her peers. Her prideful demeanor is fueled by her never-ending passion to compete against those above her, but most especially the school's top student at the time: Sonetto.

Sonetto was a student that Matilda especially admired, because she wanted to match (and even surpass) her in academic performance and skill. She worked endlessly to compete against her despite it being one-sided in nature, but always fell short due to her own arrogance. Over time, this competition became chase, with Matilda mostly wanting to find a reason to see and even befriend Sonetto.

At the same time, Matilda occasionally longed for the freedom she once had when she was younger, with having experienced the world outside before. Knowing that some of her classmates also yearned for it, she shared it with them under the familiar oak tree.

Despite it, Matilda chose to stay behind when the other kids planned their escape, since she had chosen to be confined within the white marble in the first place and didn't want to forsake the opportunity she was given. Perhaps she lived with the regret of not joining them, or with knowing she had an indirect hand to their downfall, but she could do nothing but move forward.

Once graduating she held onto her competitive and prideful demeanor, yet had to swallow some of it after being faced with not-so-ideal promotions. Her first mission in Mor Pankh greatly helped her move up and teach her about limits. Shamane, Kaalaa Baunaa, and Kanjira helped her learn the further extent of divination and what she could do with her scrying. And after her mission in San Francisco, we leave at a mysterious note where she's met with the disappearance of her own mother.

I think its been emphasized enough that Matilda has a lot of pride and ambition that its fundamental to her development as a character. Its her driving force in life and its the sort that never really goes away as she always wants to outdo whoever becomes her competitors. Its a great way for her to motivate herself when she's against all the odds.

However, this also tends to come to a fault where that pride becomes arrogance, and makes her often have shortcomings. One example would be her never being able to best Sonetto in school or always failing to confront her properly due to being easily flustered around her.

Neither Matilda's pride or her arrogance makes her a mean person. If anything, she's actually very kind and understanding, especially with her friends. Even if she struggles to swallow that pride when she has to, she wouldn't want to risk hurting her friends in turn. She's fully aware of the extent of hurt that the people around her experience, and wishes to help them in ways outside of her scrying abilities.

This ambition to compete may be rooted from her experiences growing up, where she rarely had much attention from her parents and other family besides when she performs academically well, and losing the only person (her grandfather) who really paid attention to her up until he passed away. Even then, she continues to have a lot of love for her own family and hopes to be able to protect them as an investigator.

Over time and meeting more guides and friends, Matilda will keep learning as she grows up. Perhaps with it she'll be able to achieve what she's always wanted to do, and easily surpass not only her friendly competitors, but also the enemies she'll face later on.

[senka-mesecine]

Could you write for the neglect prompt “If you won’t take care of yourself I will be forced to do it for you.” For yandere Barnes? Thank u

A Beautiful Death.

Robert Barnes x Reader.

---

lovely idea inspired by @atmostories

wonderful gif by @woman-with-no-name

---

I.

It occurred to Robert Barnes he's been walking side by side with mortality for years.

Irony being, that even though he's been as accepting of the fact that he and all men must die eventually, he's rotated back to the world burdened with every bit of baggage, bullshit, nonsense and figurative sacks of bricks attached to his personhood except for the one definitive status that seemed to elude him like an uncatchable shadow regardless of how much he welcomed it and even deliberately sought it out at times; he returned alive instead of dead. On his own two feet instead of a casket. Now, yeah, truth was, he felt robbed and cheated. He felt robbed and cheated he wasn't KIA. Felt robbed and cheated in some anger-inducing, quintessential, profound way that was difficult to entirely put into words without yapping on about it for hours and mayhaps even missing the point --- not that he ever relished being anything but entirely precise --- but the easiest way to describe it back to himself was like being a fish that was thrown out to dryland by a high tide, left to wiggle around left and right, struggling for breath under the frying sun and while he could've personally taken matters into his own hand and ended it all, the notion off offing himself always felt strangely defeatist and weak minded to him, even during the worst of days. Like he went down the way a soldier and a fighter never should; outside of combat, bloated, rusted, bogged down and ultimately broken by the mundanity of peacetime, left as a husk of unfulfilled potential. Fact is, the idea made him want to spit on the ground in disgust and righteous wrath.

Maybe why he was so pissed off when he stumbled upon you in the woods.

Catching you doing what you were about to do.

Handful of pills and kneeling down on the frost touched, white grass, just through observing you from afar it seemed like the intention was to swallow them all and lay back down, just falling asleep or more or less freezing alive. Never waking up again. A backpack and some shit you carried with you resting in the shadow of a nearby bare, blackened oak tree. He was on his second smoke as he watched you prepare the whole process with the uncertainty of an amateur who was still weighing all the available options in the back of their mind; Do I want this? Do I not want this? Do I? Or do I not? Truth was, if you wanted to die, you would've been dead by now and you wouldn't have gone to the effort of all these theatrics. Or maybe you simply never counted on the fact anyone would be all the way out here? Possible. But then again, you came into what was effectively his backyard, not the other way around, so he had the right to be fucking angry. Had the right to step in too. If you were a man he would've slapped that white shit right out of your mouth, but as things were, he merely shoves a finger down your mouth. First one, then two, watching your hurl up the contents of what you drank down with an emptied, fogged up canister of water discarded mere inches away from you.

For a moment there, you're sleeping beauty laid up on the fogged up grass.

The next moment the contents of your insides, all brown, watery mush are regurgitated and spat out unto the ground in heavy, heaving coughs as he has a firm grip on the back of your hair so you don't go lounging back and swallowing your own tongue or biting it off in a fit of ire when you realize you were just woken up, back bent forward, as low as the soil. When you're done vomiting and your chest calms down; the haziness of your reddened, bloodshot eyes clearing, realizing that he was there, you look at him like there wasn't a person in the world you could ever imagine loathing more.

Good.

He lights his third cigar about it.

-

II.

Two whole weeks pass and you don't utter a single word to him.

That's when he remembers, albeit unwillingly, something Red always had the tendency of asking, all nerves and neuroses and shaking fingers included; 'What are you gonna do about that, Bob-o, huh?'

And yeah, shit, what was he gonna do about it?

Wait, he supposed. Quiet, calm and patient, not unlike an ambush --- he didn't need talking from you or anyone; fact is, he found it futile and could go indefinitely without; but, one of these days, your form laid up on his bed, huddled up like a newborn in a state of perpetual sleep and being half-awake, face turned towards the wall would turn around and face him instead and you'd ask to shit or eat, piss or drink; you'd inquire if you could go and he might just say that no, you, in fact, can't. Then, you'd argue. Maybe you'd get bold and ram your little fist against his chest and scream your tiny heart out. Bang at the door. Bang at the windows. At the pots and the pans and the walls like a little bird rattling against a cage. Plead, cry and vail. He doesn't know, but drinking bourbon straight from the bottle and watching you with your arms and legs huddled around in bed from the bedroom window open and leading towards the corridor where he was sat up, imagining all the ways you could grow spirited and lively gave him an amused tingle. Them intrusive thoughts. Maybe you could grab one of the said pots. Smack him with it. Maybe a knife. He envisions it flashing gripped by a pair of five fingers and the world bleeding red. His mouth purses around his cigarette and the drag he takes out of it is deep. Yeah. A beautiful death. Not quite what he would've wanted, ideally, but as good as it could get, given the circumstances. A desperate bit of self defense? The will to live and fight coaxed forth by a sudden need to survive? A dormant instinct? You being afraid? Feeling cornered? Suddenly bereft of your freedom? Drunk on the indignity of it all in spite of all your prior wishes relating to death? Why, he could almost imagine you trying to kill him for it. For the chance of restoring your own humanity. Not that you'd ever have a chance if he genuinely set his mind to it --- not a chance in hell --- but he could provoke it out of you and demand that you do it, and judging by that hateful stare you gave him ---

Well, you might just take him up on his offer.

You wordlessly sleep through the night.

And by the time he's up from the table, his bottle of Jack's empty.

-

III.

-"If you won't take care of yourself I will be forced to do it for'ya."-

Is the first thing he says to you when he actually finds you sitting at the edge of the mattress, hair knotted, unwashed, greasy, eyes heavy with the dust of oversleeping, lids heavy, lips chapped and dry, face swollen from the pillow and the outline of its creases imprinted on your cheek, vaguely reminding him of what he had on his own face. You were being confronted and he intended to seem confrontational too. This wasn't kindergarten. You weren't going to get a golden participation star. You stare up at him like you judged him, if only meekly, apparently fully understanding what transpired back there in the woods and that he's carried you here; your spiteful, wounded stare gave away that much. Well, shit, that was a start. He could stoke that into something worthy as of yet. But, baby you? That he wasn't gonna do. -"I'll be shovin' a spoon down your mouth if ya push it. Feedin'ya like a toddler. Pickin'ya up and throwin' you in that rainwater barrel out there since'ya aren't keen on washin'. Hose'ya down for lice. Put my foot against your keester when'ya aren't gettin' up from my bed on time. Whole nine yards."- He describes it all very vividly, looming over the mattress, watching your mouth move, opening and closing like you intended to say something only to change your mind, looking down at your feet and finding your footwear removed and nowhere to be seen. Yeah, it was in the shed. If he could get you riled up on the subject of your shit being thrown out then he'd be a happy camper.

-"I wanted to kill myself and I would've succeeded by now if I wasn't interrupted."-

You manage, shaking your head, appearing aggrieved.

He's been trying to visualize what your voice would've sounded like.

Figured this wasn't an honest representation in its entirety, what with your raspy, dehydrated, sleep-ridden throat and all. Didn't mind it, though, not even in this form.

Sounded like you smoke two packs of cigarettes.

The picture of that was entertaining.

-"Last thing I need is taking care of. It's literally the very opposite of what I want! I don't even know who you are!"-

You accuse and he catches your fingers gripping the edge of the bed's lower frame as you spoke, if only slightly and ah, there it was --- anger. Say, even a worm could turn.

-"If you could only please let me go so I could ---"-

You try, your body moving forward, torso leaning from the bed, pleading.

He shoots that crap down.

Yeah, right; he wasn't gonna let you loose only so you could fling yourself into a nearby creek.

-"Finish that sloppy-ass attempt ya'started?"-

He closes your sentence for you, scrutinizing your expression and the way your cracked, dry mouth stood half open, eyes staring up at him, almost as if you were thinking of a comeback, wheels desperately turning, only for nothing to come to mind; he think it's only then that you actually have time to notice his scar and fully take it in; he could tell by the way your pupils widened, lingering on him. He decides to startle you on purpose, extending the hand he had behind his back and drop a pair of old leather combat boots down on the floor in front of your feet; the sons of bitches are so heavy that them hitting the ground practically booms across the room. You jump, surprised. -"Who's gonna polish these boots for me if I do?"- He cocks his head, choosing to deliberately taunt, the same way he made sure that particular bit of footwear was as mangy, crusted in mud, dust and worn out as it possibly could be to make the task as irritatingly repulsive as it could be. You glare from the bed, frozen and incredulous, like you were trying to assess if he was joking or not. -"They ain' gonne clean themselves, beaut. You earn your keep here."- He clarifies, laced with joviality as he turns his back, slowly easing out of the room; wasn't in a hurry. Taking in your reactions was far too amusing; so, he stops at the doorway, practically gripping the top of it like lingering was just as gratifying. Once your subdued, confused reaction relays you were lost by the lack of black shoe polish and a brush, he decides to clarify, not sticking around to watch you comport yourself, nonetheless, he liked to savor the notion that you were quietly infuriated as well as scared. Certainly better than being hangdog, he reckoned.

-"Use your spit and your sleeves if'ya have to."-

Is all he says, leaving the door ajar behind him.

-

IV.

-"You eatin' that or should I?"-

He breaks the silence, days later, over dinner, eyeing your plate.

Barnes couldn't imagine what could've been more silently infuriating that interrupting a suicide attempt, keeping the suicidal person hostage and turning them into something of an unpaid housemaid not even having the privilege of living rent-free, paying for lodging with work; he knew that if he was in that predicament, he would've killed the son of a bitch who did that to him with his own two hands. The sausages on your plate have cooled and you've made them yourself; the white steam curling from their tips about half an hour ago having fully disappeared. You're miserable and he can tell. Perfect. Excellent. He was giving you something to despise about him every day and in despising him, you'd distract yourself from wanting to die; might just do him the favor one of these days and snap well enough to end him. He'd just about allow you too. -"This is illegal, you know."- You manage, staring off the precipice of the table emptily. A thousand yard stare; his old familiar companion. -"Keeping me here against my will."- You clarify like it wasn't obvious. -"This is practically a hostage situation."- Not practically about it, Barnes corrects you in his own mind. It was a hostage situation in its entirety. No half measures. -"I'm an indentured domestic servant kept as a prisoner."- Your voice is calm, hopeless, entirely flatlined, but nonetheless, on occasion, something indignant in it crackles like an electrical static.

-"And that's illegal. It's immoral too!"-

You add, bitterly. Oh, shoot, no way!? Immoral too!?

You saying he wasn't gonna be invited to the next church cookout then?

Barnes snorts without making a sound, having cleared his own plate.

Grabbing your own without asking and digging in.

If you ain't gonna eat it, there's always someone who will.

Never in his life has he cared what's immoral or what's illegal.

All water off of a duck's back to him.

-"Offin' your own ass is frowned upon in most of them cultures too, so I've heard, here we are, though and here we're stayin'."-

He cocks his head to one side, deliberately smug, goddamn nearly spitting the word culture and using it purely sarcastically, rendering you momentarily silent, the odd shame and regret palpably etched into your expression; something pained there replacing the odd bits of spitfire for just a second ago. He speaks up, pushing your buttons further, ignoring that very often as of late, or even since day one, he had to wonder what motherfucker of a person or what motherfucker of a situation did you in so badly you wanted to end it all?

-"Clean the dishes."-

He orders bluntly and calmly, pushing both plates in your direction.

Somehow, your portion tasted better than his.

He eats it with more relish, that's for sure.

He wondered if you took a spit into his side of it when he wasn't looking or if you had it on hand, you'd slip poison for mice in there for good measure.

-"I'm not a maid!"-

You seethe quietly in a sudden bout of rebellion, moving your hands furiously, your elbow accidentally grazing the ceramic edge of the dish and pushing the plates unto the floor, causing them to slide and break in half; one smashing into the foot of the table next to his boot, the other cracking in half right across it, greasy and smeared with uneaten food. Barnes looks down and then back at you, fully unimpressed. Couldn't give a rat's ass about this shit, but if it meant riling you up, then so be it.

-"Now you'll go 'bout not only cleanin' the dishes; you'll gonna broom 'em up too."-

He watches your fists ball and you shoot up from your chair.

-"No!"-

Oh?

There it was.

Something inside of him grows, peppered with the sensation closest to being fucking impressed.

Proud of you.

Barnes was proud of you.

-"No?"-

He repeats, dangerously low, challenging.

For a second, he watches your sudden flash of bravery vax and vane and you hesitate, your whole body fidgeting and your eyes darting left and right almost as if you were reconsidering angering someone who could do just about anything to you up in the hills and nobody would ever come to rescue you. A someone who looked like him, sounded like him, carried himself like him. No one would ever hear you scream on this side of the mountain. Little do you know he was, even now, being gentle. Taking it easy with you. If he really wanted to scare you, you'd be covering in the corner, piss running down your thighs. That was the whole truth of it.

-"Intendin' to do sumn' 'bout that 'no' or is gonna sit there shakin' its lil' fist at me without makin' a move on?"-

Barnes prods, finding your gaze downcast once he holds it with his own for too long; the brave little frog leaping out of the boiling kettle earlier having settled back down into the heated water. He decides to up the ante, pointing his finger towards a nearby wall; you nearly flinch once he even partially raises his hand to direct you. -"There's a cabinet full of arms in there. It's unlocked. Open it."- His voice is soft, simple, and he follows the way your brows nearly twitch as you dare to throw a careful glance over your shoulders to see what he means, taking a tentative, uncertain step backwards, your torso still facing him like you weren't keen on turning your back to him.

Smart.

Good instincts.

-"Open it. Go on."-

He encourages with a wag of his chin.

Your hand falteringly grabs the cupboard's wing, haltingly squeaking it open.

Observing your throat taking a loud, visible gulp does something to him.

So does your expressing going pale at the sight of what's inside.

If the devil himself was sat up in the pantry, you probably wouldn't be so befuddled.

-"Pick one and do it."-

He suggests nonchalantly, leaning back into his chair like someone waiting for a foot massage. Yeah, he had a whole arsenal in the larder adjoined to his kitchen, and that wasn't the only one on the premises either. He just didn't think handguns were serious enough to be kept anywhere else but next to the cups, mugs, forks and knives. Next to all the teeth cleaning miswak twigs. -"Preferably that big one over there. The one they shoot elephants with."- He instructs, pointing his nose in the vague direction of the 500 S&W Magnum hanging from a leather holster attached to a hook. Speedloader cartridges and all. You filled him up with that and he'd look like the scene of a bombardment afterwards. Kill me, kill me, kill me, something within him chants, quelling once the terror in your eyes becomes impossible to ignore and your voice becomes small. If he had a hard on until then, at the very notion of your elbow straightening to point a Magnum at him, it promptly dies with your capitulation. -"I'll clean up."- You offer, penitent and resigned. Barely audible. He's so angry at your behalf, although he never lets it show, that he needs to drill the nail of humiliation in further, hoping you'll snap out of it. -"Sir."- He corrects, throwing his jaw out, hoping with the last of all of his hopes that you'll find him insufferable enough to do something about it. After all, you had enough guns just inches from you to put most people, even in this county, to shame. Instead, you do fuck all, no matter how much belief he placed into you. -"I'll clean it up, sir."- You scoot down quickly and out of breath, knees against the carpet, collecting the shattered plate pieces with your bare hands even at the risk of cutting yourself on the sharp shards, being in such a hurry that he smells your empathy in every mousey, scattering movement of your eager fingers; like you'd rather be a maid under duress than ever hurt anyone. Didn't have it in you, did you? The tenacity to kill. Not really. Not even towards yourself. Now, if you were his sister, his daughter, his wife, he would've shaken you to your senses for letting some scarred, ugly ass, bad tempered mountain hick treat you like a sack of shit and then he would've ripped that motherfucker a new asshole too.

If you were his wife.

The thought sits there mutely. Germinating.

Barnes never moves from his chair, throwing his legs up.

Watching you tidy up without a word.

-

V.

The woods are dark, deep and they resound as the deer collapses.

Tangled in its own legs, having stumbled over old, dry branches, left laying limp.

Barnes's first instinct is to throw you a look as you stood behind him.

Watching the scene.

-"Sad as a cucumber."-

He remarks. You were, admittedly, crestfallen. And he didn't even make you haul his hunting equipment out here; made a point out of doing it all of his own --- all you did was accompany. Part of him hoping you'd make a wild dash through the woods. You never do. As things were, it was enough for you to see who he was so you'd get no wild delusions about him being some misunderstood hermit who was merely a bit rough around the edges. Make whatever disgusted notions you had of him only grow, cultivated and watered by him on purpose. He observes his handiwork for a second, taking a drag out of his cigarette, relishing the moment. -"You ain' gonna give me a good talkin' to how I gone and done bad by takin' this sack of shit to the grill?"- He inquires after he figures you've gone a little too quiet; you were a little too quiet ever since the plate incident and he found he didn't like that very much. You all blue and shit. In fact, if you whipped around and called him the human equivalent of a dung heap just about now, he'd flat out smile. Instead, all he gets is more melancholy. Sweet melancholy, admittedly; like a candy he could suck on and crush under his teeth. -"No, but ---"- You try and falter, looking at the felled animal in the grass and then promptly averting your eyes, off into the dusk. -"I'm not going to cheer on it either."- You mutter and Barnes makes a point out of not moving away from the fresh, warm carcass, instead, leaning his leg on the fallen tree trunk that broke the animal's body as it was shot so you'd have no choice but associate him with the kill, not unlike a hunter posing with a trophy. So you'd have a chance to regret you didn't take him out when you had the entire cupboard at your disposal.

Still did, in fact; it was always unlocked.

He never averts his stare from you.

Instead, you avert yours a second time when you find yourself watched.

Struggling for words.

-"I could never kill another living being. I don't know, I ---"-

You murmur, realizing the ironic, double edged blade of your own comment.

Could never kill a living being, sure. No living being but yourself, tried as you failed.

He was a living being too. Were you gonna spare him too, your own abductor?

So, fuck you, he was gonna give you a reason to hate him.

A fawn slithers through the tree line, startled by the presence of people, bleating for its murdered mamma and he promptly lifts his rifle and fires a round into the tiny body before scooting down and throwing the grown deer over a shoulder, leaving the offspring shot for sport behind, piercing you with his gaze as you stood there frozen, wrapped into the oversized jacket he gave you. His face close enough to touch yours as he bypassed you, invading your bubble, deliberately taunting.

Did you think he was a good man?

That he deserved mercy?

-

VI.

A line of bedsheets flutters in the breeze.

Now, he wouldn't consider himself a sloppy motherfucker by any stretch of the word, the army having drilled control and tidiness into him like second nature, but by no means was he someone conducting springtime washing as a ritual, finding he rather enjoyed it against all odds however perplexing and strange it was; like something out of those old picture books --- a fence of clean, white linen flapping windswept as he had his boot propped up on your knee after you've done polishing his boots, sat up on a pine log opposite of him. A whole winter spent here making way for an early spring. Why didn't you do it yet? Furthermore, why weren't the papers making an uproar about your disappearance? Why wasn't the radio mentioning it? This country has really gone to the dogs if a someone could be missing for six months and nobody gives a hoot to look or be bothered by it; he tosses aside the periodical, scowling and grumbling in displeasure, uncrossing his legs, having previously smeared the lower part of his face with a shaving brush packed with creme; a washing basin and a rag long since prepared and set down on a nearby wooden table accompanied by a cracked standing mirror so he could watch you do it.

-"Eyup. Now grab the razor."-

He instructs after you're done washing your hand of black boot grease.

Part of him hoped --- calculated, rather, that if he kept putting sharp objects into your hands sooner or later primal instincts would take over and the temptation to slice him open clean would take over all empathy and withholding because you were no saint; you were an animal too, just like the rest of them at the end of the day and an animal bites when cornered. But, just in any case ---

-"Where's your folks at? Why aren't they lookin' for'ya?"-

He prods as you take your position behind him, blade in hand.

-"Y'got your people, right, Orphan Annie?"-

He tries again once you say nothing, carefully dragging the steel on the side of his good cheek, leaving behind nothing but smooth skin.

-"Yeah."-

He murmurs, feeling his own voice grow distant yet intentionally smug.

-"Must've not wanted you very much if they let me find'ya."-

Was meant to be a cruel comment, sure, but he discovers a seed of truth in it even as its uttered; and again, he circles back to the same old, same old he's been circling back before --- if you were his, he'd search far and wide until he found you. Had to be some simple motherfuckers, whoever you considered your kin if there wasn't a Stateside search warrant out for you along with your face plastered on every milk carton and missing persons poster around and he'd know, because he went down to the nearest city, the city next to it and every surrounding no-exit street settlement, honky-tonk rathole and he's checked. Shit grinded his gears. Simultaneously, would he really let you go even if someone came looking? If someone came out of the woodworks claiming you? That's my daughter, that's my sister, that's my niece, that's my grandchild, that's my woman, that's my someone? Would he really say, here, get her off my hands, I'm done feeding her?

-"Like throwing' out a stray dog in front of a meat grinder factory."-

He mutters as you dragged the blade along his jaw.

He realizes too late how bitter and sore about it he actually sounded.

Like something about the whole premise bothered him.

A reverie interrupted only by the fact that the razor's blade scratched him.

Albeit, accidentally.

You pull back, startled.

Cutting the rough side of his face was always a task, even after all these years.

-"Oh!"- You stutter, practically tip toeing in a half circle to come around and face him, looking at the no doubt miniscule scar you've caused; he could tell its miniscule because he's known what an actual scar is and feels like and the sensation is stark, so far beneath the line of pain he doesn't even feel it. At this point, he didn't crave a beautiful death; just any old death would do. Take the razor, his mind bids you wordlessly, take the razor and cut, he thinks, as you dab away at a droplet of blood with a dry washcloth, looking profoundly apologetic before walking around him and returning to your work. The sight of you is like a true north to a compass; he never takes his eyes off of you, and when you're behind his neck, reaching around to shave him, he finds he's nothing interesting to watch anymore. The house. The woods. The long string of clean linen that filled the air with something soft; yeah, well, maybe the freshly washed laundry was interesting due to the fact you did it with your own two hands. -"I didn't mean to."- You assure him as he exposes his neck so you'd better work and coverage, leaving himself entirely vulnerable as a last ditch attempt to make this all too laughably easy for you, leaning fully with his spine against you, but there you were, continuing your work gently, borderline tempting him to simply grab your wrist and force the blade into himself like some sort of rabid animal gnawing its own foot off, craving to be put down. He says nothing, leaving you to your ministrations. He believed you just about; couldn't kill another living being, eh?

He contemplates that quietly after his face is shaven and done.

Your hand there pouring him a drink before dinner.

He wouldn't deny that he was keen, in part, to see you go rotten; outside of regaining what could only be considered a zest for living pushed into existence by a man who yearned to die, he did want to get carved up by you, but the fact he was being willfully and cluelessly denied for months, it brought him no pleasure, that part. He's seen hostages and POWs grow gutless and soft after too much time in captivity and interrogation like a wild animal being broken in and domesticated and he figured that's what happened to you, even as you come close, setting down the plates, one for you and one for him and he can't help but itch to comment, ashtray present for his cigarette. -"Make sure y'dun' go 'round breakin' my plates again."- He taunts with a cocked head, blowing the smoke into your face, gaining only you willfully ignoring him in the process and a downcast look focused on the task at hand, returning to the kitchen counter and the business of preparing the oiled skillet. You don't even do as much as cough. Enough, enough, enough; he thinks as he stands up, slowly, leisurely, not at all in a hurry, taking in your back turned to him. If this didn't anger you, if this didn't serve as a push and an incentive, the last droplet in a cup of water long since overdue on overflowing, nothing would. At that point, he'd just place a gun into your hand himself and press your finger down on the trigger, calling it a day.

His nose close enough to your hair to inhale your scent.

He places his arms around your waist like something he owned.

The blow comes down swiftly and he predicts it.

The unheated frying pan oil comes leaking down on his scalp and smacking him straight across the forehead, splitting something there, drawing blood; not enough to floor him by any means, but Barnes slumps against the counter, fully wide eyed and aware as you run out the front door, wearing not much else on your foot but a worn out pair of house slippers, the thumping echo of your footsteps growing more and more distant with each passing moment and the worst and simultaneously best outcome that could've taken place for your sake happens; You mustered up the guts to run off. The worst? You mustered up the guts to run off and left him behind. The fire in the cot is still crackling as he grabs a bottle of something strong from the counter behind his smashed up head giving it a swig, setting down beside him on the floor as company; if he, in the meantime, got ahead of a handgun from the pantry in between doing that, it wouldn't have surprised him one bit, finding the notion of playing with the safety of a firearm particularly wretched and fun right about now; the blood leaks into his eyes and he seems red. Chasing after you and bringing you back would've been easy pickings, but you fought for yours fair and square and you he could never fault anyone who tries and wins. When he feels something brushing against his cheek he nearly flinches, thinking it's the draft of the front door left open tickling his face.

-"Robert, I hit you."-

You confess gently and fuck sake, how were you real?

Just you saying his name alone makes his entrails coil into a knot.

He's told you what he's called, knew what you were called too; found that out.

Didn't recall if you ever were on a mutually first name basis, though.

No, you weren't.

-"My hand just flew and I hit you."-

You explain, in all honesty, croaching right in front of him, as real as daylight.

-"And ya'had to be simple enough to come back too."-

Barnes reproaches, chugging the last bit of Jack from the bottle, drunk as a skunk.

But, you were tangible; having walked across that threshold as tenderly as can be.

Shaken to your senses; that what you sorely needed since day one.

That and an ass whopping for good measure.

He does just that, grabbing you and rocking you furiously.

-"Why'd you come back!? Sumn' seriously wrong with your brain!"-

He grits his teeth, probably never having met someone with a disjointed sense of survival and self-preservation that jumbled and unhinged. You had a way out right there, he wasn't going to be hot on your trail --- he'd give you leave to slip away and make you think it was all your doing, that you somehow got the best of him, and what you go around and do!? You come back! Didn't you have an ounce of sense!? -"Y'let some motherfucker take you and keep'ya locked in his house for months!? Make'ya do his dishes!? Cook his food!? Wash his fuckin' socks!? Talk down on'ya to your face!?"- Barnes seethes, squeezing your shoulders and arms tight, finding this a running thing by now; him getting pissed at your behalf infinitely more than you seemed to be pissed at your own. In a figurative sense, he'd contemplate what would've happened if you ran into some worse sack of shit than him, but with no false sense of humbleness, you couldn't have done that even if you tried, so really, it was lucky you still had your head attached to your body at all. -"What if he made'ya warm his bed!? Would'ya let that fly too!?"- He barks, spittle flying out of his mouth, utilizing a crude example to sober you up to the reality of things that you could've been cooped up here and fucked and raped seven ways from Sunday until you're a bleeding, limping, crying, used up mess and you'd have no say in it whatsoever. Did that shit ever cross your mind!? A loaded Magnum by his left on the floor and an empty, heavy glass bottle on his right; his nose gesturing at both as direct suggestions if the open pantry above head wasn't clue enough. -"You had a cupboard full of shit to blast from and ya take a skillet to a grown man's head!?"- He judges and yes, he judges hard. Should've shot. Asked questions later. He looks at the dented, turned over frying pan on the parquet with particular disgust.

-"You're bleeding."-

You practically whisper, fingers hovering above his bleeding forehead.

Not daring to touch.

Eyes red and shiny; looking like you were crying on the way back.

He doesn't like what he infallibly recognizes in them.

-"That's why I came back. Because you were bleeding and I just couldn't ---"- -

--- Couldn't leave you behind, he finishes your sentence for you inside of his head and the onslaught of softness he feels creeping into his belly is so startling and violent he finds he needs to yell to mask and momentarily quell it or he'll go insane, like a broken machine going haywire all over the place. Fuck your sentimentality! -"What's it to'ya!? Men bleed all the time! Everyone bleeds! A chicken bleeds when'ya stuck it! That don't mean y'don't gotta butcher it to eat! You gonna rather starve yourself!? Finish it!"- Grabbing a hold of the discarded Magnum, he forces in it into your hand, watching it shake and shiver there like a trembling branch, practically growling his order, when he finds you hesitating, mouth agape and eyes frightened, the command is roared; ugly, without decorum, without holding back, his fingers squeezing your wrist like a cuff, forcing it against his temple. Why spare him? Did he do anything good in regards of you? Anything at all!? -"I said finish it!"- He hollers and he stops only when he spots a trail of tears streaming down your face. You sniffle, your white knuckled fingers shaking viciously. -"You saved my life last winter."- You manage and he lets you go of your arm, allowing the lowering gun to slither back to the floor; in a desperate attempt, you give it one final push, ensuring it scoots as far as possible from you. Save? Now that's a word he hasn't hard in association to himself in...ever, probably. What were you gonna say next? That you love him too? Is that it? You just sit there and whimper, on the floor, opposite to him sprawled out against the foot of the counter, a trail of blood leaking from the wooden handle's edges. Your voice cracks. -"If you had so many guns from the get go, why didn't you ---"- Aggrieved and in a sudden flash of fury, you question and Barnes instinctively covers your mouth, the fullness of his palm on your lips. If he had so many guns, why didn't he just shoot you when he found you in the woods and end your misery there, is that it? He didn't even want you saying shit like that. He didn't even wanna hear it.

He doesn't answer.

Holding you like that and observing your face, finding the gesture returned.

Until his grip on you falters and melts into an embrace.

Holding each other on the wooden floorboard.

[ujuinluv]

somewhere just us (gunil) — nav

synopsis — when you follow gunil out of a coffee shop and into a hidden corner of the city, you realize that sometimes love feels less like falling and more like finding where you’re meant to be.

you never thought you’d be the kind of person who falls in love in a coffee shop, but here you are. the air smells like roasted beans and warm pastries, and the soft clink of ceramic mugs is the only thing that fills the space between you and him. gunil. he’s sitting across from you, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the side of his cup, a melody you swear you can feel in your chest.

you don’t even remember how it started. maybe it was the way he smiled the first time you accidentally bumped into him at the counter, both of you reaching for the same croissant. or maybe it was the way he said your name, soft like a secret only he was allowed to know. either way, you fell, and you fell hard.

today, he’s wearing that navy blue sweater you love, the one that makes his brown eyes look even warmer. he catches you staring and raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“what?” he asks, voice low, teasing.

you shake your head, smiling into your latte. “nothing,” you lie, but he knows better. he always knows.

he reaches across the table, his hand brushing against yours, and it sends a shiver up your spine. you wonder if he feels it too. you hope he does.

“you’re a bad liar,” he says, lacing his fingers with yours. his hand is bigger than yours, his skin rough in places, calloused from years of drumming.

“maybe,” you whisper, feeling the words catch in your throat.

the world outside the window moves fast—cars honking, people rushing—but inside this little coffee shop, time slows down. it’s just you and gunil, a universe of two.

“i was thinking,” he says, tapping your knuckles gently, “we should go somewhere.”

“somewhere?” you echo, tilting your head.

he nods, eyes sparkling. “somewhere just us. no phones, no distractions.”

your heart trips over itself. it sounds perfect. it sounds dangerous. it sounds like love.

“okay,” you say, and his grin widens.

you don’t even bother finishing your coffee. he pulls you out the door, laughing when you nearly trip over your own feet. he catches you, steady and sure, and you wonder when you started trusting him with things bigger than your balance. like your heart. like your whole future.

the air outside is cool, almost crisp, and gunil leads you down streets you don’t recognize. he doesn’t let go of your hand. not once. you don’t ask where you’re going because it doesn’t matter. not when he’s the one leading you.

finally, you reach a small park tucked between two towering buildings. it’s quiet here, like a secret carved out of the city. there’s a little pond, a few ducks paddling across the surface, and a bench under a massive oak tree. gunil tugs you toward it and you sit down, your shoulders brushing.

he leans back, tilting his head to look up at the sky. you watch him, the way the sunlight kisses the curve of his jaw, the line of his nose. you memorize the moment, tucking it away somewhere safe.

“i’m glad i met you,” he says suddenly, not looking at you.

your heart stumbles again. you don’t know how he does that—says the exact thing you’re feeling before you even know you’re feeling it.

“me too,” you whisper.

he finally turns to you, eyes searching, and you wonder what he sees. the vulnerable parts you’ve tried to hide? the dreams you’ve been too scared to say out loud? the messy, complicated pieces of you that you thought no one could ever love?

you think maybe he sees all of it. you think maybe he loves you because of it.

“i don’t wanna rush you,” he says carefully, “but… i’m serious about you.”

your breath catches. the world tilts, just a little. not in a way that feels scary. in a way that feels right.

“i’m serious about you too,” you say, and you mean it with every piece of you.

he smiles then, that full, beautiful smile that makes you feel like you’re standing in the sun. that beautiful smile that hides his eyes. he reaches up, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, voice barely more than a breath.

you nod, and before you can even think, he’s leaning in, and his lips meet yours.

it’s soft at first, tentative, like he’s memorizing the shape of you. then he deepens it, one hand cradling your face, the other still wrapped around your fingers. you taste coffee and sweetness and something that’s purely, undeniably him.

when he finally pulls back, you open your eyes to find him already watching you, forehead resting against yours.

“everything feels right when i'm with you,” he says quietly.

you believe him. you believe him in the way the earth believes in the sun rising. in the way the ocean believes in the pull of the moon.

you smile, feeling something inside you settle, like you’ve found the place you were always meant to be.

“me too,” you whisper back.

and right there, under the wide open sky, with the city humming softly in the distance and gunil’s hand in yours, you know you’ve found something rare. something real.

something that feels like coming home.

@ezlynkisses @deerdosie

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