#and the stories we tell to give voice to them

[hopleii]

should've said no,

content: dazai x fem!reader, toxic relationship, lovebombing, gaslighting, manipulating, cheating, fighting, swearing, angst no comfort, kinda ooc but kinda not, semi-proofread, trashy writing

a/n: had a mental breakdown abt my ex so i was like 'our whole relationship would be a good story' so yeah!

you knew, you always knew that dazai had a way with women. he was handsome and charming, he could easily get any girl he wanted with just a few words, and that's how he got you.

a year ago, you went to a formal event with your friends. you were third-wheeling with them and their boyfriends, as expected. taking small sips out of your glass, enjoying the tart and sweet taste of wine, you sat there unaware that you had caught someone's eye.

"what's a pretty girl like you sitting alone here?" a feathery voice from behind you snapped you out of your thoughts, you turned back to see a brunette man with a handsome face, no, handsome was an understatement. he was gorgeous.

"my, my...you are indeed pretty," he says in a gentle voice as if you'd float away if he wasn't careful. you got a bit shy and looked away, averting your gaze to cover up the flustered look on your face. "hey...look at me." the man whined,

those were the exact same words he said that pulled you back to reality, stopping your sweet moment of reminiscing on the first time you both met, at a party, where you both danced the night away.

and now you barely even hold each other anymore, "y/n...look at me!" he yells as he grabs your chin to face him, "listen to me! god, what is going on with you?" he yells again.

oh...right. the two of you were in the middle of an argument, it all started off with a backhanded comment, now both of you are fighting in the middle of the night. "what's going on with me? what's going on with you!?" you yell back, "you've been staying out late and you don't even tell me why! don't you know how worried i get?"

"how many times do we need to talk about this...I'm out working okay!? I just got home and you're already yelling at me...give me a break, I've had a long day..." he groans as he adjusts the collar of his blouse, a habit he does when things get too heated. but as he adjusts his collar, something caught your eye, something red.

"what is that?" you asked, dazai's face went pale when he hears your question because he knew exactly what you were talking about, "what's what?" he replied, his tone becoming calmer and quieter to avoid suspicions

"that." you said as you walked over to him and pulled down his collar, lipstick marks.

you let go of his collar as you let out a quivering gasp, tears forming in your eyes. "b-baby...it's not what it looks like, okay!?" dazai gently grabs your shoulders before pulling you into a hug, trying to comfort you and stop you from crying, but instead, it only fueled your anger even more because you got to smell the cheap, floral perfume on him.

"it was for a case at the agency okay? i...i had to get information from someone a-and.." he paused, losing the words he was about to say when he saw your face stained with tears as you looked at him with disgust and betrayal. "baby...just trust me, okay? it was for a mission...nothing more, okay? you're the only one i love." he says as he tightened the hug, making soothing motions on your back to try and comfort you, to earn your trust again.

"believe me..please? I'm sorry I didn't tell you...forgive me please? forgive me if you love me, baby...you trust me, right? because you love me?" dazai shaked your shoulders gently, looking at you with pleading eyes, urging you to believe him.

but you were always an understanding girl, weren't you? you always gave people second chances. and that might've been the worst mistake you made.

"y/n..say something!" he shakes you again, "I..I believe you." you say with hesitation, to be honest, you didn't. but he loved you, right? just like he said in that party a year ago...he loved you.

"r-really? I'm glad...you're not mad at me, right? you don't hate me?" he sighed, relief washing over him. his words made him seem so genuine, his face looked so innocent but there was still a part of you that didn't believe him at all. "fuck...you hate me, don't you?"

you get nervous at his words, your heart ached as he said that, "n-no! no, I believe you...I promise. nothing you do could ever make me hate you.."

dazai smiled softly and kissed you on the forehead, his mood shifting as if none of this happened.

months went by after this incident, he still came home late, some nights he didn't even come home. everytime you tried to talk to him about it, he'd get defensive and start yelling at you, calling you stupid to think that he was anywhere else but work, defending himself when all you did was ask him "where have you been?"

your friends warned you, your parents told you, your colleagues tried to talk to you but dazai had messed up your head so much that you were blinded by a false sense of love,

"so you'd rather listen to your friends than your own boyfriend!? why won't you trust me? y/n...come on, trust me!"

dazai's words echoed in your mind, you wanted to believe him. you wanted to trust that the man you loved wouldn't betray you, that there was a valid reason. his late nights turned into weekends away, excuses grew flimsier, and the distance between you widened with each passing day. yet, every time you tried to confront him, he would turn the tables, making you feel guilty for doubting him, for questioning his loyalty.

your friends' warnings fell on deaf ears, drowned out by dazai's promises of love and devotion. you clung to the hope that things would get better, that the man you fell for would return to you.

as the months passed, the weight of your doubts grew heavier, suffocating you with each passing day. you tried to bury them beneath layers of false assurances and forced smiles, but they refused to stay hidden for long.

the click of the door jolted you from your thoughts, but the sight of dazai didn't bring the relief you craved. his expression was unreadable, his eyes avoiding yours as he shuffled into the room.

"hey, i'm home," he mumbled, his voice barely audible above the silence that hung between you.

you opened your mouth to speak, to confront him, but the words caught in your throat. instead, you watched in silence as he moved past you, his presence heavy with unspoken truths.

"we need to talk," you finally managed to whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

dazai's gaze flickered with guilt, and he nodded wordlessly, the weight of your words settling on his shoulders. you took a shaky breath, preparing yourself for the conversation that would shatter everything you thought you knew.

"hmm? okay..." he hummed as he sat down in front of you, "what did you wanna talk about, pretty? oh, before that, i got you a gift! do you like it?" he says as he presented you a big box of chocolates that would probably take you weeks to finish. he was always like this, wasn't he? showering you with love and gifts, burying you with compliments every time he knows you're about to slip away to make sure you shut up and forget about the messed up things he did.

"it's not about the chocolates, dazai," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

he frowned, confusion flickering across his features before he plastered on a charming smile. "of course, my love. what's on your mind? you know you can tell me anything," he said, his voice oozing with faux sincerity.

you took a deep breath, gathering the courage to lay bare the truth. "i know about the other women, dazai," you said, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "i know about the lies, where you've been going all these nights. i can't do this anymore."

for a moment, there was silence, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. and then, with a scoff, he leaned back in his chair, his smile slipping into a sneer.

"oh, is that what this is about?" he said, his tone dripping with condescension. "you really think you can just walk away from me? after everything I've done for you?"

"i deserve better than this, dazai," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the roaring storm of emotions inside you.

but he just laughed, a cold, mocking sound that sent shivers down your spine. "deserve better? you think anyone else would put up with you?" he spat, his eyes ablaze with contempt. "you're lucky to have me, y/n."

with a heavy heart, you rose from your seat, the weight of his words like chains around your ankles. you wanted to scream, to lash out at him for the pain he had inflicted, but you knew it would only fuel his cruel satisfaction.

instead, you turned away, your resolve hardening with each step you took toward the door. his laughter followed you, a haunting echo reverberated in the empty space between you.

"you'll be back," he called after you, his voice laced with venom. "you always come back."

© — hopleii

#works—💌 #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #osamudazai #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai x fem reader #bungo stray dogs angst #bsd angst #bsd x reader #bsd x y/n

[pippytmi]

Your ennemies to lovers prompts make me think so much about kacy during S1. I appreciate all of your Kacy fics and love the emotions you manage to create with your writing. I was wondering if you would be interested in writing a story that combines prompt 4 and 6?

It is an unspoken rule that when the DIA is involved in a case, Lucy needs to be kept far, far away.

At least, that’s how Jesse rationalizes trying to keep Lucy away from DIA Officer Whistler. He cites repeated complaints to Tennant (undeserved ones), numerous whisper-shouting matches in the halls (all Whistler’s fault), and ending in the middle of tense stare-downs more often than not (obviously biased). So really, it’s a no-brainer that Lucy indignantly ignores Jesse’s pleas and makes it her mission to give as good as she gets.

“Good morning, DIA Officer Whistler,” Lucy tells her sweetly this morning, having been waiting outside the elevator just to catch the briefly-perplexed, then immediately-annoyed expression on Whistler’s face.

“Special Agent Tara,” Whistler says curtly. “I was told I would be speaking with Agent Boone today.”

“He’s busy,” Lucy says. “Small mishap with his car.” (She’d let the air out of his tires, actually, just in preparation for today).

Whistler’s expression does not waver. “I’ll speak with Special Agent Tennant, then,” she says.

“Or,” Lucy says, following as Whistler begins to stalk through the bullpen, “you can discuss the case with me. I haven’t actually been briefed on why you’re here, but if you give me two minutes…”

Whistler comes to an abrupt stop, and Lucy nearly knocks them both over; Whistler has to grip Lucy’s arm just to keep her from falling on her face, and when Lucy meets Whistler’s gaze, she sees—strangely—a kind of uncharacteristic apprehension that Whistler never has. Whistler drops Lucy’s arm like she has been burned, and her voice goes quiet when she says, 

“It really would make more sense to discuss clearance with your boss. It’s a time-sensitive matter.”

“Oh.” Lucy tries to hide her confusion, but it’s a halfhearted attempt at best; usually, the back-and-forth with Whistler is inevitable (and maybe even slightly thrilling). Whistler never just…gives up. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” Whistler says, already heading towards Jane’s office with renewed intensity. “Excuse me.”

Lucy is practically rooted in her spot, bewildered, and she watches as Tennant beckons Whistler inside before shutting the door. “Huh,” she says aloud. “Weird.”

“What’s weird?” Kai comes in carrying coffee, and he freezes in place as he, too, realizes what Lucy is looking at. “Damn. DIA’s here already? We haven’t even been briefed on the case yet.”

“Apparently it’s ‘time-sensitive’,” Lucy says, complete with air quotes and everything. “Think this means Whistler will actually give us something for once?”

“I’m not holding my breath,” Kai yawns, offering Lucy her cup before he wanders over to his desk. “Hey, where’s Jesse?”

(Lucy decides not to incriminate herself by answering that).

By the time Whistler and Jane emerge, both Kai and Lucy are pretending to be working and Jesse is just barely bursting through the doors. Jane doesn’t comment on either; instead, she waves her arms to get everyone together and begins her spiel about how they need to work with DIA and be a happy team or whatever. Honestly, Lucy is kind of tuning out the pep talk and is instead studying Whistler—everything about her body language screams discomfort, from the stiffness of her shoulders to the sharpness of her set mouth. And when she catches Lucy staring, all she does is quickly look away.

Weird.

Later, after they've been fully briefed and Jane dismisses them to do boring grunt work, Lucy tries to edge closer to Whistler and ask what exactly DIA needs to be here for. But when Whistler sees her coming, she makes a beeline towards Jesse instead, and Lucy is left frowning at their backs.

At first Lucy doesn't think too much of it. Jesse is probably handling the precious, redacted DIA files that point them to the possible suspects in this abduction case. But then, after Lucy is tasked with talking to their kidnapping victim's husband, she tries to be polite and ask Whistler if she wants to sit in. A gesture of goodwill, really, to make Whistler feel like she’s part of the investigation. 

“Hey Whistler, do you want to get in on this?” Lucy waves her case file enticingly when Whistler emerges from the break room. “We can do a good cop/bad cop routine. Obviously we know who's who in that scenario, but if you ask nicely I might consider flipping you for bad cop.”

Whistler blinks at her. “What?”

“I'm going to interview Sergeant Nguyen’s husband,” Lucy clarifies. “Want to help?”

“That's not in my job description,” Whistler says, brow crinkling in deeper confusion. “And I have to go talk to Tennant.”

“Again?” Lucy asks this question to the empty space where Whistler used to be. Except this time, Whistler is not being invited into Jane’s office. No, Whistler is just walking away, and pretending to get a call so she has an excuse to exit the hallway.

In an instant, Lucy is pissed off. Here she is, extending an olive branch, and Whistler is acting like she's too good for it. Fine—if Whistler wants to avoid her, then two can play at that game.

Ernie patiently listens to Lucy explain all of this once the interview with the Sergeant's husband gets them nothing. “So that’s why you're hiding in here,” he guesses. “Because Whistler doesn’t want to fight with you like usual.”

“I'm not hiding,” Lucy scoffs. “I actually came here to discuss…” She lamely grabs the top file on his desk, flipping it open to the first page. “Timothy Summers. Hm. Yeah, I think he's our guy.”

“Great,” Ernie says. “So an arrest is imminent, then?”

“Oh, definitely. That's why I'm here…with you…for our next move.”

“And how does the fact that he's been dead for six months fit into this?”

Lucy pauses. “You couldn’t have just told me that?”

“It’s literally underneath his picture. Deceased.” Ernie jabs at the file with his finger, and Lucy smacks him with it. “Ow! God, you’re mean when you fight with your girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Lucy’s voice comes out several octaves higher than it should. “Why would you say that?”

“Uh, lots of reasons.” Ernie pops open a box of candy on his desk, offering Lucy a sympathetic red vine which she numbly accepts. “Everyone can see it. Honestly, I thought you two were going to start going at it on Kai’s desk the other day when Whistler broke the news that we were off the Dominguez case.”

Lucy’s jaw drops. “Because we were arguing?”

“Intensely arguing,” Ernie corrects. “Kai and I placed bets on who would kiss who first.”

“Are you serious? She hates me.” 

“Does she?” Ernie continues chewing on his red vine before whispering conspiringly, “Or does she secretly burn for you?”

Horrified, Lucy ditches the candy; surely, that must be the reason she suddenly feels sick to her stomach. “Forget it. I’m going to hide somewhere else.”

“So you are hiding. I knew it! Hey, can you—”

Whatever Ernie wants, Lucy doesn’t stick around to find out. She decides she’s going to find Kai instead, see if he has any actual leads in the case.

Except she ends up bumping into Whistler again. Full-on body contact this time, even—Whistler jerks backwards, Lucy tries to jump into the wall, and really it's a wonder it doesn't end in catastrophe.

“I'm sorry, I…” Whistler trails off when she sees Lucy. “Um, Tennant said I had to talk to Ernie about Sergeant Nguyen’s finances. Is he here?”

“Yeah, he's in there.” Lucy gestures vaguely over her shoulder. “The tech-nerd talk is all yours. I need to go talk to...other people. About things.”

Whistler nods awkwardly, still waiting, and Lucy belatedly steps out of the doorway in order to head back to the bullpen. Okay, so, Operation Avoid Whistler is officially off to a bad start.

But when she catches up to Kai, he has a much better idea of how to spend their time, and it also guarantees Lucy can avoid Whistler perfectly.

“Sergeant Nguyen was last seen at a Vietnamese restaurant two blocks from here,” Kai says. “Do you want to go check it out? Maybe we'll get something the police didn't.”

Lucy’s spirits are immediately lifted. “Yes. I could go for a banh mi,” she says dreamily. “Ooh, and some spring rolls.”

“I'm…pretty sure we're not allowed to order food from our suspects.”

“We don't know if they're our suspects,” Lucy reminds him. “And besides, spring rolls never kidnapped anyone.” She pats him on the shoulder reassuringly. “Give me five minutes and I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

It ends up being closer to twenty minutes to update Jane on their next move, but Jane does give her blessing to investigate (and bring back lunch). Lucy has a pep in her step the entire way out to the parking lot, where…Whistler is standing.

Lucy notices her first; Whistler is facing the ocean, hand cupped above her forehead and frowning at something. She looks so serious—and out of place—that Lucy almost considers asking what’s wrong. Key word almost, because she is still on avoid-Kate-Whistler-mode, and she makes a mad dash to Kai’s car before Whistler can spot her.

Kai yelps when Lucy yanks the door open with, admittedly, a sense of urgency that is a tad unwarranted. “What—?”

“Drive, Kai,” Lucy demands, and he immediately starts up the engine, but he eyes her warily all the same.

(Unfortunately, Lucy makes eye contact with Whistler through the window as the car peels out of the lot, and she groans and sinks low in her seat.)

“What was that?” Kai ventures to ask. “Are you and Whistler fighting?”

“For once, no,” Lucy says. “She’s been avoiding me. So now I’m the one avoiding her.”

“Well did something happen?” The drive is quick, and before they know it, Kai is easing the car into a parking spot. “I know you two get…uh. Really passionate sometimes.”

“Because she hates me,” Lucy reiterates, feeling like a broken record at this point. “So I hate to break it to you, but you and Ernie are not going to collect on any bets related to kissing.”

Kai winces. “You know about that?”

“Yes, Kai, what the hell? I expect this from Ernie, but from you?”

“Any way I can make it up to you?” Kai asks weakly.

“Buy me lunch and we’ll talk,” Lucy says, and Kai—newfound meddler that he has proved to be—can at least follow instructions beautifully.

The restaurant turns out to be a dead-end case wise, but their menu is grand; they order too much food and bring enough lunch for everyone. (Even Whistler).

But when Lucy ever-so-casually mentions this, Jane just shrugs and says,

“I told her to stick around for you two, but she said she had to finalize some reports.”

“Wow,” Ernie says around a mouthful of noodles, “that’s dedication. Turning down free food just for work.” He pointedly raises his eyebrows at Lucy, who in turn tries very hard to glower at him with just her eyes.

“Good for her,” is all Lucy has to say about that. Jane gives her a curious look for the comment, but thankfully doesn’t ask.

“Hey, Lucy,” Ernie says suddenly. “I left my tea in the lair. Can you do me a favor and bring it to me?”

Lucy—still cradling her precious, half-eaten banh mi—has to do an actual double-take. “Why can’t you get it?”

“Because I have a cramp…in my leg…and you love me,” Ernie says. When Lucy stares back at him, unimpressed, he tries again with: “And I’ll owe you?”

“Fine,” Lucy sighs. “But you’re being so weird.” Suspiciously weird, even, but his scheming doesn’t click until Lucy is actually opening Ernie’s door and—“Oh.”

Whistler lifts her head at the intrusion, her stunned expression likely a mirror of Lucy’s. “Special Agent Tara,” she says.

“Whistler,” Lucy says slowly. “What are you doing in here?”

“Ernie said I could borrow his computer,” Whistler says. “DIA wants me here until we get a ransom demand, and I wanted to get some work done.”

“Ernie let you borrow his computer,” Lucy echoes. “Willingly?”

“Yes?” Whistler tilts her head questioningly. “Sorry, did you need something?”

Lucy knows she should be looking for Ernie’s tea. She also knows she should probably ask Whistler about it. But all that comes out is: “You know, we brought lunch for everyone.”

“Thank you, but I had lunch already.” Whistler glances back down at the computer screen, tapping away at its keys in a silent dismissal, and in an instant Lucy has had enough.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

The mechanical typing falters. “I’m not.”

“You’re working with everyone else on my team but me,” Lucy says. “That kind of feels like you’re avoiding me.”

“Maybe I felt like getting actual work done for once.” Whistler looks up again, this time with a deep-set frown on her lips. “And I wasn’t in the mood to fight.”

“Hey, you’re the one who fights with me!”  Lucy argues. “Literally, from day one. You yelled at Jane about me in front of everyone.”

“Because you stole a sensitive report which you had no clearance for!”

“Actually, I read it upside down while you were talking about how I didn’t have clearance for it,” Lucy counters. “No stealing required.”

Whistler’s jaw clenches. “That is not any better.”

“But it means I’m not a thief. I’m just…you know, crafty,” Lucy says. “Come on, haven’t you ever bent the rules a little to break a case?”

“I don't break cases,” Whistler says flatly. “I protect intel.”

Lucy rolls her eyes. “Fine,” she snaps, exasperated, “you’re a saint and a better person than I am. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Are you—what is your problem? That is not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” Lucy lets the words hang between them in the ensuing silence. She doesn’t even realize that she has placed her hands on the desk in challenge—barely any space between them now—until Whistler is hastily standing up.

Even as tall as she is, Whistler’s voice comes out incredibly small. “Nothing,” she says finally. “Please forgive my…gross unprofessionalism. Clearly, I have overstayed my welcome.” She steps out from behind the desk without even bothering to close whatever she’d been working on, and Lucy sees red.

“Oh sure, just run away,” Lucy huffs. “Go ahead! Prove you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I haven’t been—”

“I’m sick of playing this game with you!” Lucy cuts her off.

Whistler doesn’t move an inch. “What game?” 

Dammit. Ernie is most definitely in her head. What the hell; it’s not like Lucy has anything to lose. “The game where we pretend we don't like each other,” she says firmly. “You’re an asshole and I like to piss you off, but obviously there is something else here and I’m not crazy. This is—”

Honestly, in the back of her mind, the most Lucy expects is more denial. At worst, she expects Whistler to march out of the room and report her to Jane again. She certainly does not anticipate Whistler yanking Lucy in to kiss her breathless—just for a brief, dizzying moment—before pulling away.

Whistler tries to apologize, but Lucy doesn’t let her; she is once again determined to give as good as she gets (in a very different context). Lucy pulls Whistler right back in, grasping desperately at her face and stretching as fall as the tips of her toes will allow. 

It seems to reassure Whistler in any case, who eagerly slides her hands along Lucy’s back and melts against her. Maybe it's the months of pent-up aggression between the two of them, or maybe it's the knowledge that Whistler is an actual human being, or maybe it's just the ghost of the faint touch of Whistler's fingertips underneath the hem of Lucy’s shirt, but the kiss gets really intense really fast.

Lucy debates sliding her own hand under Whistler's shirt—see if she is as serious in her bra choices as she is in pantsuits—but then Whistler flicks her tongue into Lucy’s mouth and she cannot possibly be expected to focus. It's intoxicating and exhilarating and…

“Wait, wait,” Lucy regretfully manages to twist away. “We can't do this.”

“Right,” Whistler says, nodding rapidly. “It would be a mistake.” She's clearly trying to school her features into her usual stoic demeanor, but her efforts are completely undermined by her kiss-swollen lips and the obvious flush on her cheeks.

“What? No, I meant, we can't do this here,” Lucy says. “You think it would be a mistake?”

“Not if…you don't,” Kate says, almost like a question.

“Are you seriously going to throw yourself at me but not even say what you feel out loud? I think you're addicted to fighting with me,” Lucy decides.

“I didn't throw myself at you, and—if anything, you're the one trying to fight with me!” Kate exclaims. “Every day I come in, and you're there trying to undermine me. I've been trying to keep my distance for both our sakes. Obviously our working dynamic is…less than ideal, most of the time.”

“I'm not trying to undermine you. I'm just trying to get you to loosen up a little maybe,” Lucy says. “Which…okay, might be annoying. So I get why you're an uptight asshole sometimes. No offense!”

Whistler frowns. “Some offense taken.”

“Oh, it's fine,” Lucy says. “The asshole thing is unfortunately very hot. Ernie may or may not have had a point.”

“What does Ernie have to do with this?” Whistler looks horrified now.

“Not like—Ernie and I don't sit around discussing how hot you are,” Lucy tries to save face. “He just suggested that we might…you know…jump each other at some point.”

“You're not making this any better.”

“Then forget Ernie,” Lucy says. “Take him out of the equation entirely. Do you also find me unfortunately hot?”

“I wouldn’t call it unfortunate,” Whistler says. “But. Yes?”

“Okay, so…” Lucy trails off. “What are we doing here, Whistler? Do you want to walk out of here and pretend this never happened?”

“No.” Whistler steps forward hesitantly. “That’s not what I want. I…I like you, Lucy. And I know this would completely ruin our working relationship, but—”

“Shut up about work,” Lucy says, dragging Whistler back in for another fervorous kiss, delighting in the fact that Whistler certainly isn’t fighting her now.

(Lucy’s phone buzzing, however, does effectively kill the mood.)

“What is that?” Whistler is instantly back into work mode, smoothing her hair haphazardly as if someone is about to walk in any second. “Is it about the case?”

Lucy unlocks her phone with bated breath. “Maybe we finally have a ransom call,” she says, before the familiar face in her text messages proves otherwise. “...nevermind, it’s just Ernie. He wants to know if we’ve ‘kissed and made up’. I’m going to tell him we’re going to have sex in his chair.”

Whistler half-coughs, half-chokes. “Are we?”

“Obviously not,” Lucy says. Then, thoughtfully: “But I’m technically still on lunch. Did you drive here?”

“Yeah, I have a company car,” Whistler says. “Do you have another lead?”

“No, but I do have thirty minutes to spare,” Lucy says cheerfully. “Get your keys. We’re totally going to have sex in your company car.”

Whistler turns very, very red. “I…don’t think my boss would like that.”

“Fine, then we can make out in your company car,” Lucy amends. “But you’re going to have to leave first. Kai and Ernie have a bet going about us, and I don’t want either of them to win.”

“Your team has a strange obsession with your love life,” Whistler tells her matter-of-factly.

“Eh, could be worse,” Lucy says. “Jane could get involved.”

Whistler—marginally disheveled—manages to crack a smile. “Let’s not let it get that far,” she suggests, brushing one final kiss against Lucy’s mouth with a resigned sigh. “So…are we keeping this between us for now?”

“I guess so,” Lucy says begrudgingly. “Think you can keep on fighting me in front of everyone?”

Whistler shrugs. “Are you going to keep being an asshole?”

“Wha—hey, no fair! You’re the asshole. I’m the good-meaning, happy-go-lucky agent who just wants to keep you human,” Lucy says, poking at Whistler’s cheek until her smile grows even more.

“Challenge accepted,” Whistler says, smoothly tucking a strand of hair behind Lucy’s cheek before casually making her exit. 

Lucy places her hands on her hips and wistfully watches her go. This day has gone absolutely nowhere she expected it to, but dammit, she can’t be mad.

(Especially when her phone buzzes again with another text from Ernie. All it says is: NOOOOOO 😭).

#this is essentially a re-imagining of s1 #where kate & lucy first met on the job and just hated each other from day one and ofc the tension is off the charts #kacy #kate x lucy #ncis hawaii #ty for the prompt!! these two in an enemies to lovers scenario 100% eats ngl #i need a fic tag

[50calmadeuce]

Ch. 24: Happy Thanksgiving

Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

Thanksgiving dinner unfolded seamlessly, and every one of Jake's family members buzzed with excitement over your news.

You were assisting Cindy in the kitchen when your cellphone rang. Grabbing it, you saw Jake's face and name on the caller ID.

"It's him, everybody!" you announced excitedly, unable to hide your smile.

As Cindy prepared the kitchen table with the birth announcement decorations, you answered the phone.

"Hey, babe!" you greeted warmly, your voice tinged with both nerves and excitement.

He grinned back, his green eyes twinkling through the screen. "Hey, darlin'! You're mighty cheerful today."

You beamed in response. "I'm always cheerful when you call."

"That is true."

"Let me flip the camera around so you can talk with everyone," you said, pressing the button on your phone to switch to the rear camera. You began walking around, allowing Jake to greet his family members one by one as their faces lit up at seeing him.

As the phone passed from one family member to another, the anticipation built up. Each greeting was filled with warmth and small hints of the upcoming announcement, yet no one spilled the beans. Finally, after everyone had their moment to chat with Jake, you took the phone back, positioning it so that both you and Cindy were in frame.

"Jake, before you say anything else, we have something special to tell you," Cindy began, her voice full of excitement. The background clearly showed the decorations hinting at the big news.

Jake's expression shifted from joyful to stunned as his gaze settled on the creative display you and Cindy had arranged. The centerpiece was his U.S. Naval Academy hat, which you had retrieved from his closet. Alongside it, you placed a printed picture of your ultrasound. You had also found a small dry erase board on which you wrote, 'Baby boy Seresin flying in April.'

You watched his face, eagerly anticipating his reaction to the carefully planned announcement.

Jake's eyes widened as he took in the scene, his surprise evident even through the small screen. For a moment, he was speechless, his mouth agape as he processed the news.

"You're serious?" Jake finally managed, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and disbelief. "We're having a baby? Y/N, where are you?"

You took the phone back from Matt, who had been holding it, and switched the view so you were looking directly at him. "I'm right here."

"Seriously? We're having a baby?" His voice was filled with growing excitement and a touch of nervousness, as the reality of the moment began to sink in.

You glanced at Cindy, who gave you an encouraging nod, and walked into Jake's bedroom where you had been staying. You closed the door behind you, settling onto the edge of the bed, you faced the camera squarely. "Yes, Jake. We're having a baby."

Recognizing the familiar surroundings, his tone mixed happiness with concern. "Baby, I'm so happy, but…how far along are you?"

"Just hit four months this week," you replied softly.

"And you're just telling me now?"

You sighed, gathering the courage to express your feelings. "Because I didn't know how you'd react, Jake."

Jake's features softened further as he absorbed your words. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture you knew all too well as his way of processing complex emotions. "I get it," he said slowly, nodding his head. "Are you still working?"

"Yes," you responded, eager to reassure him. "I have interns for both the grant and work. I don't step in unless absolutely necessary." You watched for his reaction, hoping he would understand your commitment to both your work and your health during the pregnancy.

Jake ran his hands through his hair again, his face a mixture of seriousness and hesitation. "Since we're still all about this honesty thing, I did it on purpose."

Confused by his vague admission, you furrowed your brow. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice filled with uncertainty and concern, seeking clarity on what he was trying to tell you.

Jake's words hung heavily between you. "Those four years killed me after we lost the first baby. You are my life, Y/N. I wanted another child with you. That first night when we used protection, I felt like you didn't want me anymore."

Taken aback by his confession, you responded, the surprise evident in your tone. "Jake, that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. I used protection because I care about us, about making sure we're both ready and that it's safe. It wasn't about not wanting you—it was about caring for our future together." Your words were firm, hoping to bridge the gap his misunderstanding had created.

Jake's eyes searched yours, the realization dawning slowly as he absorbed your words. "I… I got it so wrong, didn't I?" he murmured, his voice a mix of regret and sadness. "I let my fear and my own insecurities cloud my judgment. I thought if we didn’t try immediately, you might never want to try again."

"Oh, Jake," you sighed, your voice soft but filled with a mixture of love and frustration. "You have always been my world. Why did you never see it?"

Jake's expression shifted, reflecting vulnerability. "Because you were the first person that I love so much it scared me," he admitted, his voice catching slightly. His confession revealed the depth of his feelings and the fears that accompanied them, providing a glimpse into the complexities of his emotions towards you and your relationship.

"Open the door, Y/N," he said.

"Jake, I can't do that," you responded, the confusion deepening. "I'm not there with you."

"Just try opening my bedroom door," he insisted.

You slid off his bed and made your way to the bedroom door. Reaching out, you gently opened it. Just then, Jake came into view, dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt, and a bomber jacket. He put down his phone, his green eyes locking onto yours.

"Jake!" you cried out, your phone slipping from your grasp as you threw your arms around him. At the same time, his arms encircled you, holding you close.

His embrace was tight and reassuring, as if he was trying to make up for all the time lost and the distance that had once been between you. Overwhelmed by the suddenness and the reality of his presence, tears began to well up in your eyes.

"How? When?" you managed to ask between sobs, pulling back just enough to look at him, searching his face for answers.

"The mission got done earlier than expected and I took the first flight. I let mom and dad know. I wanted to surprise you," Jake explained, his voice warm, his smile gentle.

Your heart raced with a mixture of joy and astonishment. "You're really here," you whispered, almost to reassure yourself as much as to express your disbelief.

"Yes, I'm really here," he reassured, his thumb wiping away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. "And I'm not going anywhere, at least not for a little bit."

"Are you excited about the baby?"

"Darlin', I'm excited about everything that involves you." With those words, Jake leaned in and kissed you deeply.

The kiss was a clear testament to his commitment and love, a reassurance that despite the challenges and surprises that had come your way, your bond remained strong. As you parted from the kiss, you felt a surge of hope and excitement about what lay ahead.

"I have so many plans, so many dreams for us and our baby," Jake said, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. "I want to be there for every moment, every milestone."

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words wrap around you like a comforting blanket. "I'm glad you're here now. That's what matters most."

"I love you, Y/N. Always have, always will," he declared.

"I love you too, Jake Seresin."

You both leaned in for another kiss.

Tags: @buckysteveloki-me @bellyliveslife @tgmreader @86laura11 @dizzybee03 @kmc1989 @guacam011y @nerdgirljen @hookslove1592 @dempy @djs8891

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[cheynovak]

Somewhere only we know - Part 2 

Dean Winchester x F/Reader (Y/N)  

Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, angst, just a lot of love 

Side note: English isn’t my first language. 

This story does not follow the SPN timeline. 

-- 

After the hunt where Dean met Y/N in a dream caused by a Djinn the brothers move on. Although Dean and Y/N said goodbye she keeps lingering in his head. What if he had stayed, would she loved, him the same way as she did in their shared dream.  

Now many years later their paths cross again.  

-- 

The bunker echoed with the sound of new voices, an underground sanctuary where the Winchester brothers found solace amidst the chaos of their world. Sam, ever the strategist, had brought a new purpose to their home. He had opened its doors to those who strayed from the apocalypse world, seeking refuge and guidance in the ways of hunting. 

Dean paced the dimly lit corridors, the tension of unfamiliar faces settling heavily upon him. He had always been wary of outsiders, his loyalty fiercely guarded around those he deemed worthy. But this influx of strangers, each with their own tales and trials, left him feeling like a stranger in his own home. 

Mary had spoken to Sam a few hours ago, about how Dean lived in silence amongst them. Worried about her oldest son she had asked Sam to talk to him. Giving him more purpose. 

One evening, as the bunker hummed with the murmurs of its newfound inhabitants, Sam sought out his brother in the confines of his room. He found Dean sitting alone, listening to some music to shut out the chaos swirling outside his door. 

“Hey, Dean,” Sam’s voice broke through the stillness, a beacon of familiarity in the darkness. Dean glanced up, his expression guarded yet softened by the sight of his brother. “Hey, Sammy,” he greeted, the lines of tension easing from his features. 

“Why don’t you join us for dinner tonight, it might be nice to meet some people.” Dean sighed, the weight of responsibility pressing down upon him like a leaden shroud. “I don’t know, Sammy,” he confessed, his voice heavy with the weight of unspoken fears.  

“I’m pretty comfy out here.“ Sam looked around, “What are you doing all day, Dean?“ Well you know, “Watch tv, wash or work on Baby, listen to some music.” speaking of music. The second Foreigners waiting for a girl like you started playing Dean pushed the skip button.  

“Still can’t hear that song huh?” Dean pretended it was nothing, shrugging his shoulders. “Dean... it has been years. Why didn’t you search for her already?” “And tell her what Sam? I’m sorry for not being there for you. Sorry for driving off? Sorry for not being able to give you what you need.” 

“Dean...” Sam started. “No Sam! I made a choice, I’m ok with that.” An awkward silence fell between the brothers. He didn’t believe his older brother, he loved or cared either too much or too little and, in this case, it was way too much.  

“Well, you need to get out more, maybe you could fetch us the food I just ordered?” Sam suggested, Dean rose from his seat with a heavy sigh. “If you want me gone, just say so Sammy.” Sam looked hurt and shocked. ”D-Dean that’s not it...” But before he could say more the older brother was gone.  

As he drove, the cool breeze of the open road washing over him, Dean felt a sense of liberation he hadn’t realized he’d been craving.  

-- 

Y/N sat at a cozy booth in the burger joint, as she waited for her date to return from the restroom so they could leave. The soft chatter of other diners and the clinking of silverware filled the air, creating a soothing ambiance that enveloped her in a sense of calm. 

Alex wasn’t a bad guy, but their conversations were filled with awkward silences and when he talked all he could talk about was work. They met at the office, he was always the nice quiet guy.  

When he asked her out, she knew how much it would have taken from him. So, she said yes. As she zoomed out, looking in front of her, amidst the gentle hum of conversation, she heard it.  

A familiar rumble, a distinct purr that sent a shiver of recognition down her spine. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognised the sound. She glanced through the window, her breath catching in her throat as she spotted the unmistakable silhouette of a Chevy Impala parked outside. 

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, memories flooding her mind like a tidal wave of nostalgia. The sound of that engine was etched into her soul, a reminder of a time long past yet never forgotten. 

Her date returned to the table, a quizzical look in his eyes as he noticed the smile playing on her lips. “What’s got you grinning like that?” he asked, curiosity lacing his words. 

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her gaze lingering on the Impala parked outside. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of wistfulness. “Just a fond memory, that’s all.” 

Her date nodded, accepting her vague answer with a shrug before diving back into conversation. But Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of longing that settled in the pit of her stomach, the echo of that familiar sound reverberating through her thoughts like a haunting melody. 

Y/N had to be honest and tell Alex a few times she didn’t hear him. All she could do was glance outside.  

When they stepped out of the diner, the cool night air wrapping around them like a comforting embrace. Y/N’s eyes immediately sought out the familiar shape of the Impala parked nearby, her steps instinctively leading her towards it. 

Leaving her date standing alone a few feet away.  

As she approached the car, her hand reached out almost of its own accord, gliding over the smooth surface of the Impala’s body. Tracing her curves like she was a woman needed to be loved. She peeked inside her heart raced. It looked exactly like the car he used to drive.  

And then she noticed the carvings, the initials, the same once he had seen that night. After taking a breath she greeted the car like she had been a friend.

This must be a dream. She thought. I'm dreaming.

“Hello, baby,” she murmured softly out of nostalgia, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Her date watched in surprise, a curious expression flickering across his features. “Is this your car?” he asked, his tone tinged with a mix of confusion and admiration. 

Y/N didn’t turn to him, a sheepish smile playing on her lips as she was reliving her memories in her mind. “No, actually,” she admitted, a hint of embarrassment colouring her cheeks. “But I’ve always had a soft spot for classic cars... especially this one.” 

Her date’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, his gaze drifting back to the Impala with newfound appreciation. “I can see why,” he remarked, his voice tinged with admiration. “It’s a beautiful car.” 

-- 

Dean stepped out of the diner, the familiar sound of the closing door echoing in his ears. His eyes fell upon the Impala and the two people standing around her.  

He couldn’t help but smile as he approached, he overheard a man’s voice, commenting on the car’s beauty. “She sure is,” Dean replied without missing a beat, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and affection for his cherished vehicle. 

Turning to face the source of the comment, Dean’s gaze fell upon the woman standing nearby his car, looking inside, a flicker of recognition dancing in his eyes as he took in their presence... “Y/N?” 

-- 

Y/N’s eyes widened in astonishment as she recognised his voice, a rush of memories flooding back at the sight of the familiar face before her. “Dean?” she whispered, disbelief colouring her tone as she took in his rugged features and trademark leather jacket. 

Dean’s smile widened at the sound of his name on her lips, a sense of familiarity washing over him at the sight of her. He couldn't help but stare, his gaze lingering on Y/N longer than he intended. 

Memories flashed before his eyes, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm him as he took in her appearance, the way her hair fell around her face, the sparkle of recognition in her eyes, her lips as she smiled at him.  

Dean's eyes trailed over Y/N's figure. He couldn't deny the rush of desire that surged through him at the sight of her, the memory of her beauty was nothing compared to the real deal. 

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as they stood there, locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word spoken. Dean felt a rush of nostalgia wash over him. 

-- 

Y/N couldn't help but notice the change in Dean, the transformation from the young boy she had once known into the handsome man standing before her. His rugged features held a maturity that spoke of the trials and tribulations he had faced, yet his green eyes still held a spark of the boy she remembered. 

As Dean's green eyes met hers, Y/N felt a warmth spread through her. For a moment, they stood there, locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes without a single word spoken. 

Y/N’s date looked between them, confusion evident in his expression as he realized the connection between Dean and Y/N. “Do you two know each other?” he asked, his tone laced with curiosity. 

Dean chuckled, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes as he glanced at Y/N. “You could say that,” he replied cryptically, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he shared a brief glance with Y/N. 

“Oh, eh right. Dean meet Alex, Alex this is Dean.” The men shook hands. Dean looked back at you. “Boyfriend?” he asked a little scared. Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the question. "Oh no, no, just a colleague," she replied quickly, almost instinctively. 

Relief washed over Dean's face, and Y/N couldn't help but notice the sadness that clouded Alex's expression. Alex's reaction was immediate. She could see the pain flicker across his face, a silent admission of the feelings he had begun to develop for her. 

"I... I think I should go," Alex said, his voice barely a whisper as he turned to leave. “Wait a second.” Y/N said walking over to his car.  

Y/N's heart sank as she watched him walk away, a pang of regret coursing through her veins. She knew she had hurt him, and for that, she felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. 

"Thank you for the evening, Alex," her voice filled with gratitude and sorrow. “it’s just eh... Dean and I we eh...” “Have a history, I can tell.” He finished her sentence. “I see you on Monday, right?” She nodded and looked back at Dean when Alex drove off.  

A small silence grew between Dean and Y/N. Staring at each other. 

Suddenly, Dean broke the silence. "So, where do you live now?" Y/N hesitated for a moment before replying, "I moved to Kansas." While slowly walking back towards him. 

Dean looked at Y/N, his eyes softening with a hint of longing. Not wanting to let her go just yet. "Hey, eh why don't you join us tonight if you have nothing else to do?" he asked, his voice gentle yet insistent. 

Y/N hesitated, uncertainty clouding her thoughts. “Us?” she asked “Sam, me, a few other people who we, let’s say co house with.” She was still in doubt. But Dean's words broke through her hesitation. "We could catch up, it has been a while" he suggested, his tone filled with sincerity. 

Caught between the pull of the past and the promise of the present, Y/N found herself nodding in agreement. "Okay," she said softly, a sense of anticipation stirring within her. 

Dean's face lit up with a genuine smile as he reached for the car door. "Milady," he said, his voice warm with affection and a touch of playfulness. 

Y/N couldn't help but return his smile, feeling a sense of familiarity and comfort wash over her at his gesture. With a graceful nod, she stepped into the car, the soft leather seats enveloping her in a sense of nostalgia.  

Even the smell was still the same as she remembered. 

The ride was quiet part from the soft rock music coming from the radio. 

Dean glanced at Y/N seated beside him, a rush of memories flooded his mind, triggered by the faint scent that lingered in the air. It was her scent, a familiar fragrance that brought back a cascade of emotions from their shared past. 

The scent carried him back to moments they had spent together and in this car.  

He remembered the way her body felt pressed against his, the warmth of her skin igniting a fire within him that he thought had long been extinguished. Their fingers intertwined, their hearts beating in sync as they surrendered to the passion that had consumed them that night. 

He recalled the soft sighs that escaped her lips, the gentle curve of her neck as he leaned in to kiss her, and the way her breath caught in her throat as their lips met in a fervent embrace. 

-- 

Y/N's voice gently pulled Dean out of his memory. "What's on your mind?" she asked. Dean hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to put his thoughts into words. But then, with a sigh, he decided to be partly honest with her. "It's just... it's no longer just me and my brother," he admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. 

He watched as Y/N's expression softened. "What do you mean?" “The bunker is filled with people, new people, hunters, allies, friends... it's complicated,"  

Dean explained a little what happened while parking the car in the garage. Before walking back into the chaos.  

Dean walked Y/N out of the garage, his steps slow and deliberate as he led her towards the entrance of the bunker. As they approached the entrance, Dean took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. 

He pushed open the heavy door, revealing the bustling activity of the bunker beyond. Hunters and friends, their voices echoing off the walls. Spotting Sam across the room, Dean raised his voice to be heard over the din. "Hey, you remember Y/N, right?" he said, drawing the attention of those around him. 

As the chatter died down, all eyes turned to Dean and Y/N, curiosity evident in their expressions. Dean took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking. 

"I want to introduce you all to someone," he began, gesturing towards Y/N beside him. "This is Y/N. She is... eh, a friend." 

A murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd, and Dean couldn't help but notice the look of shock on Mary’s face as their eyes met across the room. 

As Sam approached Y/N, a warm smile spread across his face, genuine pleasure evident in his eyes. "Y/N, it's so good to see you again," he greeted her, his voice filled with sincerity. 

Y/N returned his smile, feeling a sense of warmth wash over her at his genuine welcome. "It's good to see you too, Sam," she replied, her voice tinged with gratitude. 

As they caught up, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly she fell back into conversation with Sam and the other people here. 

Meanwhile, Dean watched from the sidelines, a pang of loneliness tugging at his heart as he observed how well Y/N seemed to fit in with everyone else. He couldn't deny the twinge of jealousy that crept into his mind as he watched her laughing and chatting with the others.  

-- 

Y/N couldn't ignore the sight of Dean sitting alone in the corner, nursing a beer as he watched the people around him. Sensing his solitude, she made her way over to him, determined to offer him some company. 

"Hey," she said softly as she approached, a gentle smile playing on her lips. "Mind if I join you?" Dean looked up, surprised to see her standing there. A faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "You, never, go ahead." 

Y/N settled herself beside him, the warmth of her presence a comforting contrast to the coolness of the room.  

-- 

Mary nodded to Sam while she spotted them, “Who is she?” Sam smiled softly “Y/N, we met her during a hunt. It was so long ago I don’t remember when, must have been at least 10 years.”  

“Dean seems to like her enough to bring her home.” Mary noticed. “I know he was torn when he had to leave her. It took me while to realise it wasn’t the Djinn that affected him, he never talked about her but later I realised it was leaving her that upset him.”  

Mary looked at her youngest boy, Sam could read the question in her eyes. “I said he had to contact her, start a life with her if he wanted, but he claimed it was nothing like that.” Sam nodded towards his brother.  

“Seeing him like this, makes me realise he wasn’t honest to himself.”  

-- 

"It's a bit hectic out there, huh?" she remarked, gesturing to the bustling crowd. 

Dean nodded, taking a sip of his beer. "Yeah, it's a bit much for me sometimes," Y/N studied him for a moment, noting the weariness etched into his features. 

She took his beer out of his hands putting it on the table behind them. "Why don't we go sit somewhere quieter?" she suggested, her tone gentle yet earnest. "Just the two of us." 

"Yeah, I'd like that," 

As Dean led Y/N to his room, his quiet sanctuary away from the bustling activity of the bunker, he couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness creeping over him. 

Y/N settled onto his bed, leaning against the bedframe with a relaxed ease that contrasted sharply with Dean's own awkwardness. He stood by the doorway, unsure of what to do with himself now that they were alone together. 

Y/N looked up at him, a gentle smile playing on her lips, tapping the bed. "You can sit down, you know, I won’t bite." she offered, patting the space beside her on the bed. 

As Dean settled onto the bed beside Y/N, the floodgates of conversation opened, and he found himself pouring out everything that had happened to him over the past ten years.  

He spoke of the battles fought, the losses endured, and the moments of triumph that had shaped him into the person he was today. How he met Cas and Jack. How his mom was back.  

Y/N listened intently, her eyes locked on his as he recounted his journey, her expression a mixture of empathy and understanding. To his surprise she took everything in very quiet.  

“Dean?” he looked up at her. “Be honest with me please. Why don’t you like being around these people? What holds you back to make friends?” she asked him. 

So typical he though, she hasn’t seen me in years and sees right through me.  

Dean got up, his movements around the room became restless, his hands fidgeting with objects as he avoided Y/N's gaze. Her question hung heavy in the air, stirring up emotions he had long tried to bury. 

"It's not that I don't like being around them," Dean began, his voice low and hesitant. "It's just... complicated." 

He paused, struggling to find the right words to express the turmoil swirling inside him. How could he explain the weight of responsibility that rested on his shoulders, the constant fear of failure, the overwhelming sense of duty that consumed him? 

"They depend on Sam and me," he continued, his voice tinged with frustration. "And sometimes, I feel like I'm drowning under the weight of it all. Like I'm not allowed to just... be." 

"I get it," she said softly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his arm. "But you can't have Sammy carry that weight alone.” She got up and held his hand. “And you can always come to me if you need.”  

"Thank you," he said softly, in the quiet intimacy of the room, Dean's gratitude lingered in the air between them like a tangible presence.  

“You know,” she started “I always hoped you would knock on my door again.” As their eyes locked, a mix of emotions danced in the depths of their gaze, unspoken words swirling in the space between them. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I-I was protecting you. You don’t deserve a life like this.” 

In Y/N's eyes, Dean saw understanding, compassion, and a flicker of something deeper, a connection that transcended mere words. He felt a sense of warmth spreading through him, a feeling of acceptance and belonging that he had longed for more than he cared to admit. 

Y/N saw vulnerability, strength, and a glimmer of hope shining through the layers of his guarded exterior. She felt a surge of affection welling up inside her, a desire to offer him comfort and solace in the midst of his inner turmoil. 

“But what if I want to?” She looked at his lips while his hand moved to the back of her neck.  

As they closed the space between them ever so slowly, the air crackled with anticipation, a silent invitation passing between them. Their lips met in a tender embrace, a shared moment of vulnerability.  

The sensation was electric, sending shivers down his spine as he pulled Y/N closer, his hands finding her hips and drawing her in with a gentle urgency. 

Y/N's touch on his chest ignited a fire within him, her fingers tracing the contours of his body with a delicate touch that sent waves of pleasure coursing through him.  

He could feel his heart racing beneath her touch, his pulse quickening with each passing moment as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the kiss. 

In that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of them, their bodies pressed together, a soft moan escaped Y/N's lips, sending a jolt of desire coursing through Dean's veins. It was as if the sound was a silent invitation, a cue that activated a primal instinct within him. 

Feeling her response, Dean's hands moved with purpose, one sliding up to cradle the back of her neck again, while the other traced the curves of her body.  

With a gentle yet firm touch, he guided her back, pressing her against the wall with a sense of urgency that matched the pounding of his heart. 

Y/N responded eagerly, her hands moving to grasp his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer. her skin tingling with anticipation as she surrendered to the heat coming from Dean’s body.  

Their breaths mingled in the air between them, hot and heavy. Dean looks at her, making sure he wasn’t crossing any lines.  

And as their lips met once more in a heated embrace, Dean couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration wash over him. A primal need to possess and be possessed, to lose himself in the intoxicating bliss of their shared passion.  

"I missed you," he murmured, his voice husky with emotion. "More than I ever thought possible. I've thought about you every day, wondered where you were, what you were doing..." 

His words trailed off as he pressed his forehead against hers, the intensity of his gaze locking with hers as if searching for reassurance in the depths of her eyes. 

"I never stopped thinking about you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've always been on my mind, even when I tried to push you away. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing, that you were missing." 

Y/N's touch was gentle as she cupped Dean's face, her fingertips tracing the contours of his jawline with a tenderness that spoke volumes of her emotions. 

"I felt the same way," she confessed, her voice soft yet filled with conviction. "I regretted letting you walk out that day. It felt like I had lost a part of myself, like I was making the biggest mistake of my life." 

Dean's heart ached at her confession, "And you know," Y/N continued, her voice trembling slightly with emotion, "the only time I felt truly happy was in our dream. It was like a glimpse of what could have been, like a....”   

“A reminder of the life we could have had together." Dean continued her sentence. She nodded. Feeling the weight of his emotions pressing in on him, Dean closed the space between them, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability.  

His hand gently brushed against Y/N's cheek, his touch tender yet filled with urgency. 

"Maybe I'm being too forward," he began, his voice raw with emotion, "but I want you to stay with me tonight. I need to feel your body close to me, to know that you're here with me." 

He knew he was laying his heart bare, exposing himself in a way he hadn't done in a long time. But in that moment, all he could think about was the overwhelming need to hold Y/N in his arms, to feel her warmth against him and know that she was real. 

Y/N's eyes searched his, her gaze filled with tenderness and understanding. She reached out to take his hand in hers, her touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through him. 

"I want that too," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I want to be with you, Dean. To feel your arms around me and know that I'm home." 

A mischievous glint sparkled in Dean's eyes as he flirted with Y/N, his heart racing with the thrill of anticipation. He settled down on the bed behind him. "Home, huh?" he teased, his voice laced with need.  

"Why don't you come over here and I'll give you the warmest welcome you've ever had." 

Dean's heart skipped a beat when he noticed her confidence as she climbed onto his lap, her body inches away from his as she leaned in close. "Is that a promise?" she whispered, her voice husky with desire. 

Dean's grin widened, his hands reaching out to pull her closer until their bodies were pressed together.  His hands guiding her to grind against his hips. "You bet it is," he replied, his voice low and smouldering with passion. 

Their lips melted together in another breath-taking kiss, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the electric current of desire pulsating between them.  

Dean's hands roamed Y/N's body, tracing the curves of her form with a hunger he hadn’t felt in forever. 

Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in Dean's hair as she deepened the kiss, her breath mingling with his in a symphony of passion. With a soft moan, Dean rolled over, laying her beneath him, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.  

His hand moved under her shirt, Y/N gasped at the sensation, her heart racing with the intensity of their connection. His hands roamer her breasts, kneading while his lips nip at her neck. 

Clothes became obstacles, hastily discarded in their eagerness to feel each other's skin against their own. 

Y/N's soft moans filled the air, Dean felt a surge of primal desire wash over him, his own breath hitching in response. Loving how she said his name.  

The sound was like music to his ears, igniting a fire within him that burned hotter with each passing moment. 

"God, you sound so beautiful," he murmured against her skin, his voice husky with desire. "I could listen to you all night." Y/N's moans grew louder, more urgent, as Dean's hands explored every inch of her body with a reverence that bordered on worship. Each touch sent sparks flying.  

“I need to feel you.” he murmured against her neck.  

Their breath mingled in the quiet of the night, the heat of their passion igniting a fire that burned hot between them. 

Dean's fingers traced lazy patterns along Y/N's skin, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through her body. With each touch, she felt herself melting into him, her desire building with every caress. 

Feeling the undeniable heat radiating from Y/N's core, Dean couldn't resist the urge to explore further. His hand trailed down her body, his fingers dancing lightly over her hips before slipping between her thighs. 

Y/N gasped as Dean's touch sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her, her body arching instinctively towards him. With a soft groan, Dean pressed his hard length against her folds, teasing her with the promise of ecstasy. 

"God, you feel so good," Dean whispered, his voice husky with desire as he rubbed himself against her, his movements sending waves of pleasure crashing over her. 

Y/N moaned in response, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she surrendered herself to the delicious friction. "You want this, don't you?" Dean murmured, his voice dripping with desire as he teased her mercilessly, his words stoking the flames of her arousal. 

Y/N could only nod in response, her body trembling with anticipation as she surrendered herself completely to the ecstasy of their shared desire. ”Y-yes, please Dean. Please.”  

With a low growl of satisfaction, Dean plunged himself deep inside her, the sensation of their bodies joining sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through them both. 

Y/N couldn't help but curse under her breath as she felt the fullness of Dean inside her, his size stretching her in the most delicious way. She clenched around him, her body instinctively responding to him.  

Dean groaned at the sensation, his muscles on his back tensing, while he placed his face in her neck. He leaned into her touch, flexing beneath her hand as she caressed the tense muscles.  

"Fuck, Y/N," Dean breathed, his voice rough with desire as he buried himself deeper inside her.  

Dean's movements slowed, each thrust deliberate and purposeful, the sensation of being one with Y/N was better than he had ever hoped for. With each deep, deliberate movement, he ensured she felt every inch of him, his body moving in perfect harmony with hers. 

Earning every moan or sigh.  

Y/N's breath hitched as she felt Dean's slow and steady pace, her body responding eagerly to his every touch. "God, Dean," Y/N gasped, her voice husky with desire as she met his gaze with a hunger that matched his own. "You feel so good inside me." 

Dean groaned in response "Fuck, Y/N," Dean whispered, his voice rough with desire "Oh, sweetheart," he breathed, his voice rough with need. "Tell me what you want." 

Y/N grinned, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I want you to fuck me senseless, Dean. I want to feel every inch of you inside me, driving me wild with pleasure." 

"God, Y/N," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "That’s so fucking hot." 

Y/N chuckled softly, the sound sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through Dean's veins. "You haven't seen anything yet, baby," she teased, her voice dripping with promise as she trailed kisses along his jawline. 

Dean's heart pounded in his chest as he felt himself growing harder with each passing moment. "Then show me, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Show me everything you've got." 

With a playful smile, Y/N shifted her position, straddling Dean's hips as she positioned herself above him. 

Dean's breath caught in his throat as he watched her with hungry eyes, his hands reaching out to grasp her hips as she lowered herself onto him. With a slow, deliberate movement, she sank down onto his cock. 

Y/N moaned softly as she began to move, her hips rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm as she rode him with a skill that left him breathless. With each thrust, each movement, she felt herself spiralling closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy, her mind consumed with the overwhelming need for release. 

Dean groaned beneath her, his hands gripping her hips. Feeling Y/N tightening around him, Dean knew she was on the brink of orgasm, and he wanted nothing more than to join her in the ecstasy of release.  

With a primal growl, he guided her movements, urging her to ride him harder, faster, as he whispered words of encouragement in her ear. "That's it, sweetheart," Dean groaned, his voice thick with desire. "Ride me harder sweetheart. I want to feel you come apart around me." 

Y/N's moans filled the room as she surrendered herself completely to the pleasure coursing through her body, her movements becoming more urgent as she chased the elusive peak of ecstasy.  

Dean's hands roamed over her body, his touch igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. "You're so fucking sexy," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "I want to come with you, sweetheart. I want to feel you come apart in my arms." 

Y/N's breath hitched as she felt herself teetering on the edge, her body trembling with anticipation as she rode him harder, faster, her movements driving him to the brink of madness. 

As Dean felt Y/N's body tighten around him in the throes of her orgasm, he couldn't hold back any longer. With a primal growl, he thrust up into her. He buried himself deep inside her, becoming more urgent as he surrendered himself completely to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his veins. 

He sits up wrapping his arms around her as he feels his own release. Y/N cried out as she felt him release inside her, her body trembling with the intensity of their shared climax. She collapsed against him, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she rode out the waves of pleasure crashing over her. 

His arms still wrapped around her as they clung to each other in the aftermath of their passion. Their bodies pressed close, they shared heavy breaths, their hearts pounding in sync. 

Dean's voice was husky with desire as he whispered in Y/N's ear, his breath warm against her skin. "God, that, you, were better than I remembered," he admitted. Y/N's heart swelled with warmth at his words, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she leaned into him.  

"You're not so bad yourself, Winchester," she teased, her voice filled with affection and adoration. 

Dean chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest as he held her close. "I guess we make a pretty good team," he mused, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back. 

Dean's touch was gentle as he caressed Y/N's thighs and hips, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin as they lay together in the quiet of the room. But as Y/N voiced her worries about someone hearing them, Dean's expression turned possessive, a fierce glint in his eyes. 

"Let them hear," Dean growled softly, his voice low and filled with determination. "Let them know that you're mine." 

Y/N's breath caught in her throat at his words, a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins as she met his gaze. "Yours?"  

She had never seen this side of Dean before, and the intensity of his possessiveness sent a shiver of desire down her spine.  

Dean's voice was tinged with uncertainty as he spoke. "At least if you want to be my girl," he murmured, his words filled with vulnerability as he laid bare his fears. 

Her fingers reaching out to gently brush against his cheek. "Dean," she whispered softly, her gaze filled with tenderness and affection. "I don't want just one night with you. I want every night. I want forever." 

"You do?" he asked, Y/N nodded, her eyes shining with sincerity. "I do," she affirmed, her voice filled with conviction. "I want to be yours, Dean. Completely, utterly your" 

A relieved smile spread across Dean's face as he pulled her closer into his arms, holding her so close as if he never wanted to let her go. "Then you're mine," he whispered, his voice filled with certainty. "Forever and always." 

They lay together, wrapped in each other's arms, almost falling asleep. Y/N’s phone rings: Foreigner I've been waiting for girl liek you, started to play. 

Dean looks at Y/N, they stare at each other for a second before they started laughing. 

Knowing this was a sign.  

-----------

Song lyrics : Foreigner - Waiting for a girl like you

Let me know what you think, like, share or comment <3

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

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[iconic-position]

The fun of fucking sexy girlfriend's pussy

Read in Xxx college girl sex story that a girl got crazy about my friend. Both of them had also become friends. But my friend did not like it. He asked me for help.

Hello friends,

My name is Aryan and I am a resident of Ahmedabad, Gujarat.

My height is 5'9″ inches.

I am slim and simple in appearance.

I have been reading Antarvasna for a long time. I read one or two stories in the morning.

Without talking much now, let's go straight to the Xxx college girl sex story.

This incident happened when I was studying in a college in Ahmedabad.

At that time I had a friend whose name was Ajay.

Ajay had a friend whom he met at a wedding and she was infatuated with him.

She had made Ajay her boyfriend.

But Ajay did not like her that much.

One night I woke up to smoke a cigarette.

I saw that Ajay was shouting and talking to someone.

I went to one side and started smoking and when he finished talking, he saw me and came near me.

I found him angry and tense.

So I asked him- what happened?

On this he said- Brother, there is a girl who is after me. For the last 6 months she wants to settle down with me.

After listening to Ajay, I said- So what is the problem in this? Set it up and enjoy!

On this he told me – Brother, I should set it. But if I told her yes, she would fall into the trap of getting married.

After listening to her I said – then get married. Isn't it good looking?

So he said- She looks good, but she is older than me.

I said – What is there in that brother… Nowadays people get married even at an older age.

Ajay said - No friend, if I say yes and then don't get married, she is threatening to kill me. Then what will be the condition of my family members? For all these reasons I have refused him. But she is not agreeing. He has to do anything to get into a relationship with me.

I said then block his number.

Ajay said- Can't… what if he does something?

I said – Brother, take rest today, it is late in the night. Let's talk about this tomorrow.

On this he said – Brother, do anything but get me out of this problem!

I said- Brother, let's do something!

Then two weeks passed like this.

Meanwhile, both of us had to go to a wedding.

Our roommates also came to that wedding.

We all enjoyed the wedding a lot.

After this everyone went to their respective homes.

I also left to go to my home.

So Ajay reminded – Brother, what to do about that girlfriend problem?

I said – You can do one thing but… for this you will have to do as I say.

Ajay nodded and said- Okay.

I said- Call that girl and talk to her lovingly.

Ajay did the same.

He dialed the call and spoke lovingly to the girl and said – This number of mine is about to be switched off. Don't call me on this. I'm giving you my second number.

Because of Ajay talking so lovingly, the girl felt that Ajay was set up with her.

But our plan had started now.

Here let me tell you that the name of that girl was Riya.

Ajay gave my number to Riya.

Then we came to Ahmedabad.

After this, when Riya called my number, I did not pick up her number.

Friends, let me tell you that WhatsApp was not in use at that time.

People used to talk through calls and messages.

When he kept calling, I messaged him and said – I am busy right now, I will talk in the night.

Let me tell you that she lived with her family so she could not call at night.

Some time passed like this and gradually we started talking through messages.

Riya felt that she was talking to Ajay.

But I was talking to him.

Then one day I called Riya.

Riya had not talked to Ajay for a long time, so she could not recognize my voice.

First, I talked to Riya a little so that she does not doubt me.

After this, when I was confirmed that everything was fine, I increased the conversation.

Now our talks used to last for a long time.

While talking, we also talked about sex for hours.

We used to talk about sex every night.

In this way 3 months passed.

Then one day I told him the whole truth.

As soon as he heard the truth, the ground left his feet.

He did not talk to me for a few days but then after some time I got a call from him.

Perhaps now that she had mingled with me, it did not matter much to her because now Riya had forgotten my friend.

After some resentment, we started talking again.

We mostly talked about sex.

Every day during phone sex, I would make her naked and finger her pussy with my name.

I also used to masturbate in her name.

I told her that I liked her.

He asked- Do you truly love me?

I said- Yes!

Then after a day or two I proposed her and she said yes.

Now Riya had become my girlfriend.

I told this to Ajay that Riya is set up with me.

On this he said – Brother, why is the flying arrow taking hold?

I said I will handle it.

Then one day I called Riya to meet.

She immediately agreed.

I said- let's meet outside.

I live in Ahmedabad, she lives in Bharuch.

Distance of 200 kilometers, 4 hours journey.

During our conversation, I even asked her about sex but she refused.

He had only one thing in mind that they would have sex after marriage.

I asked to avoid it - Okay then you or go and meet!

She said- I can't. You come off.

Then I told him- If I come then I will do what I want.

He took my suggestion lightly and said yes.

But somewhere we both were hungry for sex.

Riya said- Can you come to my house tomorrow night at 11:30?

Without any delay, I said yes to him and asked for his home address.

After this I told my friend Ajay about this.

Ajay said- Go and meet, take condom with you.

I said- absolutely!

Then I reached his city with full preparation.

I reached outside his house at 11.30 pm.

She came out to pick me up and carried me inside the house.

I went to her room and as soon as I went inside, I took her in my arms.

We both hugged each other for a long time.

Then after 5 minutes we started kissing each other.

Then I put one of my hands inside her top and started massaging her nipples.

Now maybe she was hot.

So as soon as I got the chance, I lifted her lehenga up with my other hand and started caressing her thighs.

Now she started stiffening and then I removed my hands from her thighs and put them directly inside her panty and placed them on her pussy.

I felt that her pussy had released water.

Then I took out my hand from her panty and asked her to take off her top.

Now she was in front of me in a black bra.

Then I asked her to take off her lehenga and she took that off too.

Now she was in front of me in bra and panty.

I went and switched on the light of the room.

So she shyly covered herself with the sheet and said – please turn off the lights!

Then I said- Don't be shy, there are only two of us here.

But suddenly she stopped me and said – First fill my maang with vermillion.

I said- I will do all this later. You enjoy it now.

She became completely aroused so she agreed to what I said and started supporting me.

Once again I started massaging her boobs and took one of her nipples in my mouth and started pressing the other one.

I pounced on her and threw her on the bed and pounced on her like an animal and started kissing her.

She also started supporting me and started kissing me.

Then I took off her panty and bra and threw them.

Now she became completely naked in front of me.

Then I inserted a finger of my hand into her pussy and started shaking it.

Now she started moaning.

Now it was her turn to lick her pussy.

As soon as I placed my tongue on her pussy, she started writhing.

Now my penis was also getting erect, so I quickly started taking off all my clothes.

Within a few moments I stood naked in front of her.

She got scared after seeing my 6 inches long penis and said - I will die, I will not be able to take such a big one.

I said- I will do it easily!

She said- Okay.

When I asked her to take my penis in her mouth, she refused.

After I told her once or twice, she agreed and started sucking my penis in her mouth.

Now I started enjoying.

Then we came to position 69.

I started licking her pussy.

Now she was about to cum so she said – I am about to cum.

I increased the speed of licking and within a few moments she ejaculated.

All her fluid fell on the bed.

Then I started sucking her boobs.

She started getting hot again.

Now she was probably ready to get fucked.

So, without wasting any time, I applied cream on my penis and placed it on her pussy.

Now the tip of my penis touched the hole of her pussy.

I said- There will be some pain but later it will be fun.

She said- Okay!

And I gave a hard push and my penis went into her pussy.

Now she started screaming and saying – Take it out, I am in pain.

But I was not going to agree… I gave another push.

This time my 6 inch long penis went straight inside, tearing her pussy.

And she started crying.

She was absolutely a virgin.

Now I started pushing and then tears started coming out of her eyes.

She started refusing me so I stopped for a while.

But I did not take my penis out of her pussy.

At the same time, I started pressing and sucking her boobs.

After some time she started liking it so I started pushing again.

Now maybe she also started enjoying and she started lifting her ass to me.

I also increased the speed of my thrusts and started thrusting harder.

She had orgasmed due to my continuous thrusts.

Now I took out my penis from her pussy and asked her to become a mare.

Then I started fucking her from behind.

After being fucked for 10 minutes, she orgasmed again.

Then I made her lie straight and placed a pillow under her ass and lifted her pussy upwards.

Then I placed both her legs on my shoulders and started fucking her from the front.

While enjoying the Xxx college girl sex, she started saying to me – Ah… do it quickly… it is fun today. Do it faster!

And started pressing her lips with her teeth.

Now I had climbed on top of her and with strong thrusts, sudden sounds were coming from the room.

Here Riya was also saying – Tear my pussy today my king… ah ah!

I also maintained the speed and after some time she held me tightly and orgasmed.

Riya had orgasmed thrice till now.

Now it was my turn, so I also kept pushing with full force.

Then I said – I am going to have a baby!

So she said- pour your water on my boobs.

I also quickly took out my penis from her pussy and rubbed it on her boobs.

Now she took my penis in her mouth and started sucking it due to which my penis became erect again.

Then I said- Now I will fuck you in a new way.

She said- Okay.

Then I tied both her legs with her bra and stuck my mouth in her pussy.

The pink pussy of that Xxx college girl was in front of me.

Then I put a pillow under her ass and again inserted my penis into her pussy.

That night I fucked Riya three times in a row.

Now I also started feeling tired and then both of us slept naked on the bed.

I had set an alarm for 3 o'clock on my phone.

When the alarm rang, I got up and left for Ahmedabad.

Now Riya was in love with me.

I used to go to fuck her two to three times every month.

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[fluentmoviequoter]

Constant Faith and the Life it Brings

Part 2 of Constant Faith | Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!worship pastor!reader

Summary: After your church is robbed, Tim learns how you got into faith and helps you learn to share your story.

Warnings: mentions of armed robbery and past arrests, basically a testimony based on the request, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 1.8k+ words

A/N: I loved writing this!! The worship pastor!r dynamic is right up my alley and I definitely sprinkled little parts of my own testimony and time in church in here.😊

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

The days following the robbery are strange, but you believe in promises and know that God and Tim keep them. As Tim helps the robbery unit work the case, you meet with different church members to pray together.

When Sunday rolls around, and the sanctuary is still treated as an active crime scene, your pastor welcomes everyone into his home for service and fellowship. You lead worship as usual, but hearing all the voices mixing and praising God together, trusting that He has the situation in His hand and would use it for His purpose, is a unique and beautiful experience. One you wouldn’t have had without a walk through the valley of the shadow, you think as you finish a song.

As you go home Sunday afternoon, you think about everything that has led you to this exact moment in your life and your faith. There are parts of your testimony you don’t like sharing with just anyone, not because you doubt what God has done for you or want to keep His message to yourself, but because it brings up memories that remind you of a painful time. Living through an armed robbery and experiencing how much your church family loves and cares for one another, however, gives you strength and encouragement that your story could help others who are in similar circumstances. That inherent need to help others who are hurting, to be there for them, is precisely what led you to become a therapist when you’re not singing at church.

Tuesday morning, your pastor sends out a video message with excellent news. He tells you and the rest of the church members that the offering collected on Sunday not only met their usual numbers but replenished the money that had been stolen. You’re unsure if God encouraged everyone to give a bit more and support His house or if one generous donor knew what had happened. Regardless, the church isn’t in fiscal danger, which is great but not the best part.

“The L.A.P.D. contacted me this morning to inform me that the thieves were apprehended and offered a full confession,” he adds. “In addition, they have recovered everything stolen from the safe and it will be returned to us in due time. Now if that isn’t proof that our God still works miracles, I don’t know what is!”

“I think that was the best run-through we’ve had in weeks!” Jerry applauds. “Not that they’re usually bad, you know.”

“We do,” you promise with a smile. “But, I agree, that was great! We’re back in the sanctuary Sunday, so let’s have a great service and welcome everyone back into church.”

You watch the worship team gather their things and leave, but you look up at the empty cross on the wall. Your Bible is lying with your things, and you squat to pick it up as Jerry exits the audio booth.

“You alright?” he asks softly.

“Yeah, I’m good. I think I’m just…”

“I understand. You’ve got keys, so take your time. We’re all here if you need us.”

You nod your thanks and wait until he leaves to sit in the front pew. Holding your Bible in your lap, you close your eyes and begin praying. You thank God for everything, including Tim, and you pray for him, too. He’s a big part of your life, even if he doesn’t know how much he’s done for you.

“Can I help you, Officer?” Jerry asks as he exits the church. “Or are you here on personal business?”

Tim is waiting beside his truck, dressed in his patrol uniform. He looks up when Jerry exits, and Jerry hides a smile at Tim’s disappointed look. Most of your church family knows about Tim, and Jerry knows who the officer before him is and what – or who – he’s there for.

“Just waiting for her,” Tim says.

“She’s in the sanctuary; may be a few minutes. You’re welcome to go in if you’d like.”

Tim looks over Jerry’s shoulder to the door and nods. He thanks Jerry and watches him walk away. You’re more at home here than anyone else, yet Tim doesn’t feel as if he’s trespassing when he walks through the front door and navigates to the sanctuary entrance.

The pew dips beside you, and you look up from your Bible quickly and see Tim looking at the stage. He doesn’t speak as he joins you, but his hand is stretched toward you.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Your finger holds your place in the New Testament, the fitting story of Jesus and the “den of thieves.” Tim shakes his head and tells you to take your time. He sits back and closes his eyes. Maybe Tim is praying or giving you the privacy he thinks you need. Either way, you appreciate him and are glad he’s beside you.

“I- thank you for working so hard and catching them,” you begin. “On Sunday, we received enough money from tithing to make up for what was stolen. Between that and the arrest, I should be, I don’t know, jumping for joy or something.”

“But?” Tim presses kindly.

“It reminded me of my past,” you whisper. “And I’ve just been thinking that I can do more- that I should do more.”

“Do more how?”

You look at Tim, and his eyes are already on you. His focus on the here and now is appreciated, but he can’t understand what you mean until you tell him about your past. More than Tim, you can’t do what the Lord is calling you to do without learning to share painful memories.

“I had a really bad childhood; my upbringing, I guess you could say, was rough, Tim. Growing up, I never felt like I belonged or was loved, even in my own house, around people who were supposed to love me and protect me. So, I learned how to look out for myself and provide for myself, but I didn’t always do it right.”

Your eyes drop from Tim’s to look at your Bible instead. Tim keeps his eyes on your face as you speak, and his hand inches closer to your side.

“When those men came in here and demanded to know where the money was… part of why I stayed so calm is because I’ve been that person before. I was behind the gun once and it landed me in juvie at 17. I didn’t know why they charged me as a minor. I didn’t understand anything until I found this.”

You point to your Bible and pause. Tim doesn’t press, though you’re sure he has questions about your previous arrest. Because you went to juvie and were a minor with no prior record, everything was expunged, and most people would never know it happened.

“Someone introduced me to the Bible,” you continue. “I was carrying around so many sins, and they were a burden that never lightened. Initially, I thought it was desperation or boredom, anything other than a need for a Savior. I started reading and it felt like every sentence was written to me specifically. The thief on the cross beside Jesus, the gift of the Holy Spirit, and forgiveness of sins while healing physical infirmities… everything Jesus said and did felt like an invitation. I started praying and I felt that burden start lifting. After I confessed every sin, even the ones no one else knew about, I gave my life to Christ. At that moment, I started praying that God could use me and my past to help others who are hurting.”

You take a deep breath and apologize again. Tim finally moves his hand into yours, and your eyes drift to his.

“That’s what led you to become a therapist? LA’s best grief counselor,” Tim guesses.

You smile and chuckle as you nod.

“You’re good at your job, I’ve always known that. But the fact that you let a situation like that lead you to help others is exceptional. Not many doctors pray for their patients; I’d charge extra for that.”

You push against Tim’s shoulder as your smile grows. “If they’d told me that reading the Bible would lead to having two jobs without facing the price of sin, I wouldn’t have believed them. The worship pastor idea came in later. The day before I was released I read Acts 16. Paul and Silas sing praises in prison, and then there’s an earthquake and the doors are opened. No one leaves, but the jailer sees the doors and prepares to kill himself. Paul and Silas stop him and lead him to repent and be baptized. So, after nights of praying and praising in a cell, I knew I needed to keep doing it.”

Tim has been quiet since the moment he walked in. Though you don’t regret sharing your testimony with him, you begin to worry that he won’t want anything to do with you now. Learning that your girlfriend went to juvie for armed robbery isn’t easy for most people to move on from.

“I understand if you want some time,” you murmur.

Tim’s eyes are still straight ahead. You realize he’s looking at the pulpit in the center of the stage. He squeezes your hand gently, and you take a deep breath. You won't blame him for needing space, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt.

“I had a rough childhood, too. My dad was angry, and he got violent because of that. I actually thought for a while that he killed someone," Tim says.

His voice is rough, but you know why and you're here for him. You lay your other hand over Tim’s and turn to face him. His eyes are still forward, and you understand it can be easier to talk about stuff like this without looking at your audience.

“He was having an affair with a woman who was being abused. She killed her husband and my dad covered for her. That- that moment when he confessed and he seemed like a good man… it went against everything I had ever seen. He was a monster, and everything that I am is despite what my dad did.”

Tim turns toward you, and you see tears gathering in his eyes. It hurts to relive past pains, but your entire life is founded upon a belief that you don’t have to do it alone.

“I don’t want time or space. Your past made you the woman I love, and the strength and love you found during your darkest night… your story is special.”

“I could do more,” you whisper. “I don’t tell enough people.”

“You told me. That’s a start, right?”

You nod and lean your head against Tim’s shoulder. Your Bible folds closed with your movement, and you remember that your unshakeable faith will get you through the hard days to come, and telling your story may allow someone else to see the strength Christ offers.

“You’re amazing,” you say against Tim’s shirt. “Everything that you are, all that you do, shows that your past doesn’t define you.”

Tim turns to kiss your head and wraps an arm around your back.

“Did you come to give me a ride and a hug?” you ask.

“Yes. A ride home and more than one hug.”

#hanna writes✯ #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford fic #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie abc #fem!reader #requests #christianity

[ravennaortiz]

Good morning! I would love to request chibs, 16 and 33 💗

Thank you so much!

Good Morning Love! Our handsome Scot is perfect for these prompts! You are more than welcome! Feel free to drop by anytime! As Always my stories are 18+!

P.S I put a little twist on this and I hope you don't mind!

Tag List: @keyweegirlie @hatersaremymotivators @meera10 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @mama-mischief @youngadult9016

Prompts

16. Your scars are beautiful

33. Are you blushing?

Love the Man, Love the Scars

"What does a lady have to do to get you to buy her a drink?" you asked with a flirty laugh as you sat next to Chibs at the bar. The older man chuckled as he looked down at his whiskey glass in front of him. He had been trying to ignore his ever growing interest in you since he had first met you weeks ago.

He had nothing to offer a beautiful woman like you. Yet he couldn't help but let his eyes follow you around, his heart speed up when he heard your voice or caught the sweet whiff of your perfume.

"Aye, Lassie. I suppose be nothing but a beauty" replied Chibs as he dared to look up at you.

You nodded as a smirk appeared on your face as you put your hand on his knee making him jerk slightly. "I see. So then why haven't you brought me a vineyard yet? Or am I not beautiful?" you teased letting a pout form.

"Ye the most beautiful lass I've ever seen" replied Chibs as he grabbed your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. The softness of it making him wish he could have you in his bed letting your silkiness slide over him .Giving his head a quick shake he spoke again. "Its me who is an ugly mug with these" he stated as he pointed to the scars on his face.

"Stop that" you scolded as you smacked his hand. "Your scars are beautiful. They tell a story of a brave man" you continued as you gently traced one of them.

Chibs felt his cheeks heat up at your words and touch.

"Are you blushing old man?" you inquired noting the reddened tint to his cheeks.

"Its the whiskey" muttered Chibs as he tried to deny his reaction.

"Already blushing and I haven't even gotten to the part about how I want to trace them and him with my tongue" you replied as your free hand slipped to his crotch.

Chibs swallowed hard as he licked his lips. "Maybe we should get out of here so I can hear more about this tracing" .

Want more Chibs? Click here

Want to make your own request? Click here

Want on the tag list? Click here

#sons of anarchy #ravennasmasterlist #ravennasrequest #soa fanfic #chibs telford #chibs telford x reader #chibs sons of anarchy #chibs telford imagine #chibs x reader #soa chibs #chibs imagine #filip telford #filip chibs telford #sons of anarchy fanfic #sons of anarchy fanfiction #fanfiction #imagines

[capinejghafa]

kanej author recs | insignificant457

Notable/Favorite works:

What We Would've Become

“A hand seizes her wrist. It’s encased in cool leather, and she remembers it clutching at her in a chapel in Ravka. Remembers the voice that came with it, saying Stay.”

Rating: G / Quirks: Developing Kanej, Showverse/Book Blend (post-s2), pre-IC heist, Post-Canon (showverse), Canon divergence (book verse)

The Strangeness of Home*

She shakes her head, feeling befuddled. “I don’t know what to tell them, Papa. What do I say?” He smiles sadly at her, and gently tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “You say whatever you need to. Tell them as much or as little as you want. It is your story to tell, when–if–you want to tell it.”

Rating: M / Quirks: Inej Centric, Post-canon, Visit to Ravka (Inej only), Inej's parents, Inej's relatives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Minor Kanej

*a good standalone story with a follow up (the unexpected visitor) but also that one can be read a separate too. While Kanej is not the primary focus I would highly rec for the feels.

The Unexpected Visitor (WIP)

So yes, she can admit that this visit is a long time coming. At this point, his myth is nearly as grandiose among the caravan as it is in Ketterdam. It’s a recipe for disaster.

Rating: M / Quirks: Established Kanej, Post-canon, Inej's parents, Inej's relatives, Angst, Fluff, Healing! So much healing, a lot of hurt but healing, Inej and her Dad actually having a moment (it's what we deserve), Kaz and Inej's mom having moments, Inej's parents love Kaz... I can't stress enough people actually love Kaz and hate him too

Operation Kanej (WIP)

“The point,” Nina says, “is that Inej and Kaz clearly have feelings for each other, and would clearly make a great power couple, but are both too emotionally constipated to admit it. So we need to, you know, give them a little shove.”

Rating: G / Quirks: Kanej, Modern AU, Crows Friendship, Established Wesper & Helnik, meddling Crows!, Humor, Fluff, Gaslighting

#kanejauthors #kaz x inej #kanej #kanejedit #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #insignificant457 #six of crows #shadow and bone #soc #the crows #kanej fanfiction #kanej fic rec #mygifs16 #socedit

[cookinguptales]

Thank you so much for the tarot reading you did for me a little while back 💜 i'm sorry it's taken me so long to say that! i do rather think you have prophetic gifts, by the way- it was spookily accurate and helped me a lot 🔮

No problem! I'm glad it was helpful to you!

I do tend to get at least one message like this every time I do a tarot night for my followers, and like... you are totally entitled to that belief! What do I know about psychic phenomena and prophecy anyway? lmao. Maybe I am psychic.

But personally, I believe that tarot has a high likelihood of speaking to us no matter what, if just because the archetypal nature of the cards means that they're dealing with problems that we all struggle with. We all have self-doubt, we all have complicated relationships with money, we all crave love of some kind. We all have trauma in our past and we all want to believe that this time, things could be okay.

One of the reasons I like tarot cards is because they are inanimate objects that we imbue with meaning. They were just playing cards, y'know? We're the ones that gave them power over us, and we did that by filling them with our own stories. We placed a mirror in those cards, and while mirrors can be used for scrying, they can also just be used to take a good hard look at ourselves.

If I say "oh, you've had money troubles in the past," who doesn't that apply to? Maybe I'm thinking about me, when we were homeless for a while when I was a kid. Maybe someone else is thinking about the money they lost to gambling last week. Maybe someone else, someone wildly wealthy, is thinking about a stock market crash that brought their five mansions down to two. Maybe a final person has just never had quite enough to make ends meet. God knows that describes a lot of people.

I like tarot because we can all look at the same spread and see something different. I see a story to tell to the best of my ability, and that's how I do readings. But for the people getting those readings, they're often looking into little mirrors and seeing how they reflect their own personal experiences.

Because, you know, we all see different things in the same mirror! That's how tarot works, I think. Maybe some people are a little better at reading things in that mirror and interpreting what they see there, but we all see something new and different and deeply, deeply personal when we look at those cards.

Love that for us.

#that's what I eventually ended up studying in college btw #the way people construct personalized belief systems and vernacular religion #I got into religious studies to make sense of the world after I got out of an abusive religious background #and people always ask me what religion I am now #and I always say... y'know... I don't know what I believe #I don't know if magic exists or ESP or the supernatural or any number of deities #I don't know if I fully believe anything anymore #but I do believe in the power of stories #how we tell them and why we tell them and the parts of us that we mix into them to bolster their power #stories can ease a broken heart or they can be used to launch a war #they can create a belief system or tear one apart #we tell stories to make meaning out of the senselessness around us but we use them to CREATE meaning too #and sometimes the meaning that we create can last for centuries #they can make a little pack of playing cards into something that I was forbidden to touch when I was a child #that I was too scared to even be in the room with until I was in college #and the stories I tell myself instead can reframe those cards as something lovely I can collect #that help me make sense of the world in all kinds of ways #by helping me understand the emotions at the root of our experiences #and the stories we tell to give voice to them #and make them material; a thing we can finally touch #idk I'm rambling a bit but! those are my thoughts on the matter!! #replies #tarot #tarot shenanigans

[0rchidm4ntis]

By your side.

#micas art #twst #twst fanart #twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge #silver vanrouge #this is so self indulgent djdkdk #i just wanted to draw something soft with the two of them #imo lilia should stick to storybooks instead of telling his own stories. lest we want him to traumatize a 5 year old #but!! i think he would be pretty good at reading stories since he does have a very soothing voice #hed probably make funny voices for the characters and everything #im starving for domestic lilia and silver content and if twst isnt giving it im just gonna make it myself #almost forgot to mention i referenced elizabeth shippen green for this piece. felt important to add!

[taichi-x-koushiro]

Just Koushiro Izumi Things

Concept, or, an A.U. I Haven't Written Yet: One day, Koushiro just isn't responding to any of the Chosen who try to get in touch - including the 02 Chosen, who were currently heading the group in the Adventure Chosen's various absences. They begin to panic a bit, because a Situation is happening, and they Can't Get In Touch With Koushiro, The Only One Who May Have A Semblance of Whats Even Going On (Technologically) Here. Taichi tries to get to the bottom of what's going on, by attempting to find out where Koushiro is, trying to get in touch more directly - but Koushiro isn't even answering Koushiro's personal cell number. It's only after Koushiro's left for a couple days - and after Taichi finally gets back in touch with the Izumi household (Mrs. Izumi had answered calls from Taichi before, so Mrs. Izuzmi knows Taichi enough) that they finally find out what's going on - Koushiro took a days+-long trip to visit the cemetary where Koushiro's biological relatives are buried. (Koushiro does this every year, after all. Notably for ohigan.) But now the Situation is getting out of hand - and Koushiro is somewhere with bad cell reception - so Taichi's the one who has to go help pick Koushiro back up (and FAST). There's just one other problem - Koushiro hasn't actually told the Chosen about BEING an Adoptee yet.

#taishiro headcanon #taishirou headcanon #taichi x koushiro #koushiro headcanon #izumi family #izumi koushirou #taishiro roadtrip au #(Im Not HosodaTM Voice ' The original concept {for 'Bokura no War Game' was a road-trip type story ') #(Yeah I Wonder How Such A Road-Trip Type A.U. Would Work Out Here) #(Hey Whoa There's A Scenario rIGHT THERE) #(A.K.A.: A.U. ideas that will never leave my mind until one day they force me to write them but today is Not That Day) #(Also A.K.A.: GIVE KOUSHIRO SOME LEGITIMATE DOWNTIME + *RECOGNITION* FROM THE OTHERS T O E I) #(In Which Koushiro Izumi Is A Human Being Too) #(MIYAKO IDEK ' But Izumi senpai HAS TO COME BACK we can tRY to get into {enemy territory} but we NEED Guidanc--- ') #(KOUSHIRO IN MIND IF KOUSHIRO KNEW 'Im Sorry . I Was Visiting My {Deceased Biological Relatives I Told You Nothing About}') #(YAMATO ' CANT YOU JUST COME BACK ') #(Koushiro ' Yamato san I am {OVER 5+ HOURS AWAY} And that is {ONE Way.....} ') #(JOU ' I know we ran into you between there before but youre BACK THERE????? ') #(KOUSHIRO ' Its A Very Long Story {I Am Not Sure I Can Tell Right Now} ') #(This is also before they figure out how to warp using the gates ok dont @ me so itd be before 2010 canon timeline wise) #(Anyway I One Hundred Percent Maintain This Happens At Least One Year of Koushiros Life BESIDES just 2012 The Beginning Timeline) #(AKA BESIDES just ' oh Koushiros busy with work again!!1!1! ') #(This is still something I plan to work with F.Y.I. it just may take me Many Years for it to Form into Something Written)

[dirt-str1der]

How do you think majima hit his ex wife ? Do you think he did it like kiryu slapped haruka , he whapped his hand over her cheek like a reflex, without even thinking. Do you think he revved up for a backhand during an argument, or maybe he grabbed her by the shoulders and straight up threw her to the ground while she was at her most vulnerable and then he walked out the door and never looked back

#Yakuza loveblog #we dont give majima enough shit for hitting mirei but she seems so wistful when she was talking aboht it #mirei is .. shes like haruka but not because when something terrible happens to haruka she files that emotion away and keeps trucking on wit #her angellic smile but when mireis going through a lot she shuts down and she gets that blank expression a lot more like majima does .. #maybe he got that from her ?? i think she got the abortion and went home to tell majima about it. all the while that blank look plastered on #her face and she tells him that she was pregnant and before he could have any resction to that news she tells him she got rid of it #and majima is shocked he looks at her face and he gets mad it looks like she doesnt give a shit. she didnt even tell him she didnt even #trust him and he shoves her to the floor he’d yelled at her for a reason he cant even remember now and she looks at him without any emotion #and he figures it out. that she was right not to trust him because hes like This. and she doesnt love him because hes like this so he walks #away knowing he doesnt deserve anything from her because she was hurting and he could only make it worse. and maybe he cried a bit over her #had a few angry tears at some bar but she never shed a tear over him because thats just not who she is #she recounts the story to haruka with a blank expression and a slow #calm voice that betrays no emotion ... she really loved majima that much was obvious .. neither of them had been really ready for a #relationship but i believed they did love each other they just didnt know how to deal with two things at once

[jackgoodfellow]

Today in "texts I have sent my partner":

[ID: A screenshot of a text message that reads, "And if there's one thing I want out of this life, it is to be a dark specter on the door of Eric Kripke's career". End ID.]

#eric kripke #the boys #supernatural #winchester #writing #I wish to be a grim portent of doom ever at the heels of his legacy #I wish to see a world in which so many marginalized people are able to tell their stories that #men like Eric Kripke fade slowly back into the irrelevance they always deserved #image description #see jack talk #your kingdom shall be mine. and I shall topple your great monuments to mediocrity and replace them with art that goddamn gives a shit #so say I to every cishet white man who has more than he has earned. go retire and enjoy your undeserved money. the real writers want a shot #all I want in this entire world is to help people and for other people to give a shit about my OCs #and whenever I see someone with a platform and an adoring fan base that they don't appreciate - it makes me want to explode #and should there come a day when I am successful in my goals. may I have the good grace to lift other voices up. #to never stop striving to be better as a person and a writer. and to never stop absolutely losing my shit over fan art of my characters. #I'm serious this is all I want in the whole wide world if I had a genie wish that had to be selfish that is what I would wish for #it would be like World Peace and Equality. and then a dedicated group of fans who care enough about my work to make their own fan work. #and then. presuming we are working by Disney Aladdin rules. I guess I would set the genie free! #and that is as much thought as I'm going to put into this until I find a magic lamp. or I will end up down a really long rabbit hole. #edit: just to be clear this is not a threat of harmful action against eric kripke it is just a harsh trashing of his work #I don't actually wish the man personal harm

[jewishvitya]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#riki babbles #I had this in my drafts for ages and I was like 'not the time' but a friend encouraged me to share so here it is #palestine

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Controversial opinion among Dune book fans maybe, but I loved the changes they made to Chani's character. Making her a fedaykin who is already an experienced fighter before Paul arrives was a brilliant choice. Dune Part Two is a war movie, and this puts her at the center of the action, side by side with Paul, and gives her a much more active role than she has in the book.

We got a hint of where things were going in the beginning of Dune Part One. The first thing we ever know about movie Chani is that she's a fighter. She serves as a voice for the Fremen, telling us the story of their struggle from her point of view. I wrote here about the difference this change makes compared to other adaptations of Dune, what a perspective shift it is to have the world of Arrakis introduced not by an outsider, describing it as a dangerous but valuable colonial prize, but by one of its native inhabitants, who tells us before all else that it's beautiful, her home that she's fighting to liberate. I am so, so glad that the second movie followed up on this characterization.

I never found Chani and Paul's love story in the book particularly convincing, because why would this woman, who already has a prominent and respected place in Fremen society, even give the time of day to her deposed would-be colonizer, let alone fall in love and have children with him? Without a compelling reason for Chani to love Paul, she ends up feeling like a prize to be won, and "indigenous culture personified as a woman to be wooed (or conquered) by the colonizing man" is a trope we've seen and don't need to repeat.

But as soon as you tell me it's a barricade romance I get it. Cool cool cool, I know exactly what this relationship is now and it makes sense. Movie Chani doesn't respect or even particularly like Paul when she first meets him, and she doesn't think he's the fulfillment of any prophecy. She comes to respect him, and eventually love him, through his actions. He's brave--sometimes recklessly so. He fights well. He's willing to stick his neck out on the front lines with the other Fremen fighters. He can (after a little help) hack surviving in the harsh desert environment. He's not too proud to learn from others. He seems to genuinely want to be her equal in a common political struggle. All these qualities make sense as things she values.

Fighting side by side as equals is just about the only way I can see movie Chani falling for Paul. And it fits perfectly with the film's pattern of reversals that Paul's capacity for violence would initially be one of the things Chani likes about him, only for her to be repelled later when she sees what he becomes.

And as for Paul, well, he's had people deferring to him his entire life. Someone who doesn't take any shit from him is probably refreshing. He seems to like people (Duncan, Gurney) who challenge him and engage in a little friendly teasing--and aren't afraid to go a few rounds in the sparring ring.

It's easy to speedrun a romance when you're spending all your time together in mortal danger fighting for a shared political cause. Especially if you then start winning in a war your people have been fighting for decades. Are you kidding me? That is the perfect environment for intense battle camaraderie to turn into romantic love, and lust.

It makes sense that this version of Chani never believes Paul is any kind of messiah. Of course a character like movie Chani wouldn't believe in or trust some outside savior to liberate them. She's been working to liberate her own people for years. The more Paul invokes the messianic myth, the more he starts sounding once again like someone who plans to rule over them, and the more uncomfortable Chani becomes. In this way she becomes a foil to Jessica, the two of them representing the choices Paul is pulled between. It's a great way of externalizing the political and philosophical debates that often happen within characters' heads in the book.

And of course this version of Chani would leave Paul at the end of the film. It's not just the personal, emotional betrayal--although that stings. What common cause does she have with someone who just declared himself emperor and is sending her own people off in a war of conquest against others? Given the important role she plays in Dune Messiah, I am super curious to see how they get her back into the story, but girl was so valid for being willing to just gtfo. Given that she has the last shot of the whole movie, I'm sure she'll be back somehow, and I can't wait to see what they do with her character in any future installments.

#dune #dune part two #dune part 2 #chani kynes #paul atreides #adaptation #dune spoilers

[lemonlover1110]

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏

Sukuna

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: Your deity calls you to his presence to worship him.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, two-dick sukuna, bit of a size kink, spitting, oral sex (m. receiving), handjob, biting, gagging, vaginal sex, squirting, creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“My lord.” You get on your knees, bowing your head in the presence of the deity. You were called to his presence, and you feel as if your heart is about to beat out of your chest while you’re in his presence. It feels as if his eyes burn into your skin when his gaze falls on you.

There’s a smirk on his face as he looks down arrogantly at you. Arrogance has always been a trait that you’ve looked down upon men, but Sukuna does not fit in with men. He’s anything but a man. He’s a God, a being worthy of praise and worship.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” His deep voice makes your breath catch up in your chest. You hear the amusement in his voice, which brings out a worry from deep within you. You’ve caught glimpses of the deity, a swift motion from him could snap you in half. “Rise.”

You get off your knees, keeping your head lowered. You respect him– You fear him. You were always taught that you couldn’t respect someone without fearing them first, and Sukuna has your utmost respect. You’ve heard the horror stories about him, the fear that he’s caused. The fear that he still causes today; it’s the reason why you stand before him, out of fear and… oddly enough, admiration.

“Lift up your head.” He says, and while you’re confused, you don’t hesitate in doing so. Not following his orders in a manner of seconds could result in much worse. Your eyes slightly widen at the clear sight of him, he’s everything you’ve imagined and more. He’s smirking at you, and you wonder why he suddenly shows interest in you. “Tell me your story.”

“My lord, it’s nothing interesting.” You answer, and your face grows hot as you bite your tongue. You know immediately that’s the wrong answer, yet you can’t bring yourself to immediately apologize. The smirk fades away as a frown overtakes his face.

“I didn’t ask. I gave you an order and you must follow it. Do you not know the rules of this place?” He doesn’t raise his voice like you’ve heard before. 

Sukuna has seen you around, and it’s fair to say that he’s taken a liking to you. You look so soft and so sweet standing to the other servants he keeps around, but it’s not just that… It’s something else about you. He can’t quite put his finger on it.

“I apologize, my lord.” You bow down your head, and when you lift it up, a sigh leaves your lips. He grows impatient, but he knows you’re about to speak, therefore he gives you a couple of seconds to speak. “You wreaked havoc in my old village”

“Out of fear? Is that it?” He sounds disappointed with the answer. He expected more… Yet when he looks at you, there’s this certain spark in your eye, making him lay his head on his fist as a smirk overtakes his face again. That’s not all.

“Not just that, lord. But admiration.” You confess. Admiration… It’s odd to come from you. As pretty as a flower, yet you admire a monster– Though he prefers the word God. “I was married to this man and well… You took care of that problem.”

“Forced marriage?” He questions and you shake your head. It’ll sound like a sob story which makes you hesitant to speak up, but you know you can’t shake your head and not give more details.

“We were in love, until we got married and he decided that he didn’t like me all that much.” You share, and he grows even more interested. “He had several problems between women and drinking, bringing shame upon my name. But then you came along, my lord.”

“Come here.” He orders, and you walk over to him. Once in front of him, your heart races even faster. Your legs feel weak, and you feel like you might pass out right in front of him. He’s even bigger than you imagined. His top right hand grabs your neck, and you almost cry out of fear, but unexpectedly, the hand goes under your chin, and tilts your head up. “Did you bear children?”

“I was unable to fulfill that task, my lord.” You tell him, too ashamed to admit that it’s the reason why your late husband lost all interest in you. That’s all he needs to know, that was the root of your problem. One swift look at you, and he knows you’re not the reason of it, but rather your late husband’s fruitless seed.

“Aren’t you a wicked woman? Worshiping the monster that killed your husband.” He fights back on smiling. He likes that. He finds some sick and twisted pleasure from it. Truthfully, it’s not the worst thing that Sukuna has smiled about. Maybe it’s the worst thing that has made him aroused though.

“I don’t view you as a monster, my lord.” You respond, and he cocks his eyebrow. “You’re a God. No monster could ever compare to you.”

“Hmm… You’re right.” A guttural laugh comes from him. You begin to feel proud at the fact that you’ve made him laugh. He begins to like you more and more by the second.

He licks his lips, looking you up and down. There was a reason he saved you and took you in as a servant. He called you in for a reason, he was going to fuck you even if he found you boring, but luckily for him, you’re even better than what he imagined. He orders, “Worship me like a God then.”

“I’ll do anything you need me to do, my lord.” You respond, and you watch him undo his robes. You expected this the moment you were called by Uraume to show up before him. Either this, or your demise. You’ve heard rumors that Sukuna has taken many lovers– Partners is the most appropriate word, either way, you didn’t expect him to lay his eyes on you. 

“Do what you must.” He tells you, your eyes landing on the two dicks that stack up on each other. You shouldn’t be shocked, but your eyes can’t help but linger on it. You’re curious, yet excited. 

You’re not sure how to proceed at first so you do what you’ve usually done. You spit in your hand before your lips meet his, and Sukuna is taken back by it. Do you not know where your mouth is supposed to go or…? Your tongue moves past his lips and enters his mouth, pressing against his while your hand wraps around his top cock. 

Your hand begins to stroke his cock while your tongue wanders around his mouth. When you pull away, you get on your knees to put his bottom dick in your mouth. Your tongue circles around the tip, getting his precum on your tongue. You look up at the man, the expressions on his face telling you that he’s particularly sensitive. You kiss the tip of his cock before taking in as much as you can in your mouth. 

Sukuna grabs the hand that strokes his cock, and guides it, setting a pace that’s more pleasing for him. He notices just how small you are compared to him, and it fucking drives him wild. Your free hand cups his heavy balls before you begin to massage them. He grabs the back of your head, pulling your mouth away from his bottom dick.

“Top one needs attention too, bitch.” He tells you, and you switch. Your mouth wraps around his top dick while you begin to jerk off the bottom one. It’s a bit overwhelming since it’s so much for you, but you’re enjoying the experience. 

You’re looking up at him, reading his every expression. He looks at you as if you were inferior, someone that’s barely even worthy of his consideration. It’s because you are– Though you can’t read the fact that Sukuna is fighting back from making any noise. 

Sukuna groans as you attempt to take more in your mouth. It’s not all, but it’s enough to bring tears to your eyes from gagging. Sukuna chuckles when he sees the tears that stream down your face as you try your best to bring him the most pleasure you can. What you’re doing is doing wonders, but not for the reason you think. One of his hands goes to the back of your head, and he forces your head to stay. Your eyes look the prettiest when they cry because of him.

“Doing a better job than I expected.” Sukuna says, letting go of your head. You take your mouth off his cock, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his shaft. You begin to jerk both of his cocks off while you lean up to try and kiss him, but his thumb presses down on your bottom lip before telling you, “Open up.”

You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out which allows him to bring his lips together and spit in your mouth. It’s a gift from him to you, one that you gladly accept. He orders you to swallow, and you do so without a problem. You’re a blind follower to his word. 

You’re about to focus on his cocks again, but he forces you up. He wants more. Something different. He rips the cloth that covers you to pieces, and before you can even properly process it, Sukuna has you sitting on his lap. You squeeze your thighs together, a sudden shyness taking over you. As quickly as you shut them is as fast as he spreads them apart, “Too late for you to be shy now, woman.”

Two of his long fingers run through your slick folds, gathering your wetness. He isn’t all that surprised that you’re already wet, you’re about to be fucked by your God, of course you’re excited. Your slick goes down to your asshole and he begins to tease it. He wants to bury both of his cocks within you, but he knows that it’ll take a little more adjusting. He isn’t completely ruthless, and sometimes has compassion for things he cares about– Not that he cares about you, but he doesn’t want to hurt you either.

Sukuna’s tongue glides from your shoulder to your neck, his bottom set of arms lifting you up. The tip of his cock runs through your folds, and he bites down on your neck when he pushes his cock inside of you. You loudly moan as he fills you up. 

“Is it too much for you? I think you can handle it for your God.” Sukuna says, not giving you a moment to adjust before he begins to bounce you on his cock. He isn’t the type to give out praises, but fuck, you feel so fucking good around him. Almost like a fucking virgin. 

Your nails dig into the supple flesh of his arms, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as his cock hits every right spot. You’re meant to be pleasing him, yet he’s making you feel euphoric. He’s so generous with you, you don’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good.

“Oh, fuck– Sukuna!” You yell out, and he doesn’t recall ever giving you permission to use his name. But it’s pretty when it rolls off your tongue so he’ll allow it to happen just this once. Perhaps if it was someone else the situation would be different, but he’ll be generous with you this one time. 

Two fingers enter your mouth with the sole purpose of shutting you up. His mouth goes to your ear and he scolds you, “Don’t ever fucking use my name without my fucking permission, stupid bitch.”

He bites down your earlobe gently. He’s too much for you to handle. He moves you with his bottom set of arms, one arm has the hand that gags you, and his final arm goes down, two fingers beginning to play with your clit. You didn’t think that sex with a deity would be so… You’re practically out of the world. You feel as if you’ve ascended to heaven.

Sukuna takes his fingers out of your mouth, moving the hand down to stroke the cock that’s being left out. Being nice comes at a cost to his pleasure, and it’s fair to say that the selfish man doubts he’ll be doing it again. 

Your walls begin to tighten around him, your climax quickly approaching. You have never felt so fucking good before, especially not with a man. You know Sukuna can’t be considered a man though. 

“Fuck– I’m gonna–” You begin, and before you can even finish your sentence, you squirt all over him. Sukuna can’t help but chuckle, smacking your cunt as you release the liquid all over him. That’s certainly a first for him, although it’s not surprising since in sex he always cares about receiving and never about giving. 

You keep holding on to him, your sharp nails nearly digging blood from his skin. He’s grunting, his release near. You feel so fucking good around him, better than he expected. He can’t help but tell you, “Next time, I’m putting both of them in.”

The thought is driving you wild, yet you’re already excited even when he isn’t done with you yet. Sukuna loudly groans when he reaches his climax, cum shooting out both of his cocks. He fills your cunt up, while some of his cum goes to waste in the air. He’ll make sure that he’ll completely stuff you next time though.

Sukuna keeps his cock buried inside of you, catching his unregulated breath. He speaks into your ear, “Look at me, being nice to a little bitch and not completely stuffing her. Next time you’ll have to handle both.”

“I’m sorry, lord.” You respond, and he laughs.

“You did a good job.” He can’t help but compliment you since he hasn’t felt this good in a while, and you’re over the moon with his praise. 

“Thank you.” You reply, fighting back the big smile that threatens to come on your face. Sukuna takes his cock out, and he chuckles as he sees that your clothes are shredded to pieces. “I have to–”

“I’ll call a servant for a new robe for you. Nobody can see you naked but me.” He interrupts you. His hand goes under your chin and he tilts your head to look at every side of your face, “Don’t want anyone to look at my wife naked.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widen, caught off guard with his words.

“I’ve decided that you’re going to be my wife.”

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