#I JUST LOVE IT SO MUCH 🥹❤️❤️❤️

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

This fic is already giving off wonderful slow burn with "cozy winter vibes" and I am 1000000000% here for it! It's like a Christmas fic without the Christmas lol. And I totally get it about the grumpy/sunshine, you know that I can't stop writing it either 😂

(Also that How to Train Your Dragon gif made me smile -- I love that movie!!)

I love that movie too! Ruffnut is my spirit animal- I love her so much 😂

Omg yeesss, I love malewife Dean lmao. He's just such a caretaker at heart, and an awesome cook! I can so picture him making big breakfasts for his kids on weekends and packing their lunches for school. 🥹

Oh goodness YES! Malewife Dean supremacy ❤️😂 He would love doing that, I'm convinced!!

Oh yeah, there's some of that too! She's more open to it now than Dean, but I thought we needed some realism where she's also skeptical true mates are even real -- until she met Dean. How strongly they both are reacting to each other physically, but not wanting to admit it yet, and the reader just wanting to know more about Dean before she begins to trust him, all of that is going to continue playing out in Part 2. 💓💓

I really like that in soulmate AUs, when there's a little bit of skepticism. It adds to the angst and makes it a bit forlorn and I can't wait to read it! 🥰

Against the Wind - Part 1

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: This is a canon ending-divergent AU, but still an Omegaverse story within the canon world. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, scenting, injuries, hints of angst, fluff and feels. 

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: In His Hands

Your body is mostly numb when he pulls you out of the snow.

You utter a sharp cry when something in your side twinges, waking up your entire body like a white-hot shiv. Your ankle begins to throb as well.

“Hold on. I’ve got you.”

You only half hear the voice, a deep, coarse rumble. His form is broad and dark and blurry, but his male scent is the only thing you register with perfect clarity. 

Alpha. 

A small treble of alarm runs through you. It’s an instinct you’ve had to learn, as an omega traveling alone in rural Montana. However, something else disrupts that anxiety.

It’s his scent. His scent is like the crackle and smoke of a warm hearth. 

Safe. Your body is heavy and stiff and doesn’t respond to your commands, and yet, you feel a measure of calm when he maneuvers you into his arms. It’s a baser instinct, rooted deep in your chest. He begins to carry you down the slope of the mountain, and your vision blurs white…

Like the flurry of snow falling heavy on his jacket.  

You wake up freezing and shivering in pain. A sensation of small sharp needles begins to travel all across your skin. Slowly, as you're able to blink, your view of the dark wood cabin clears and focuses. You realize that you’re bundled in blankets, and laying on a chaise in front of a large fireplace. Still, you’re too cold. A keening whimper escapes you as you try to burrow in.

Alpha. Your body instinctively recognizes his presence, as he’s suddenly there, hovering close above you with a divot between his brows and a frown marring his face, where thick stubble threatens to become a beard. Stern, dark brows are furrowed over his concerned eyes. His plush frown is framed by a stubborn-looking chin. Your gaze wearily travels over his handsome features, his short brown hair, the flickers of firelight that splash across the side of his face.

He places a warm, calloused hand on your forehead, and he mutters a curse. Your body trembles further with cold. You part your lips, but you can't yet force your voice to escape them.

Again, he quite literally takes the problem into his own hands. He peels away the thick blankets just to slide himself in behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, and you feel their tempered strength when they cage you in against him. You manage to turn your head and rest your cheek against his chest, covered by red plaid. Thank you...

Almost on reflex, you breathe in his scent deeply.  The earthiness of it calms you, warms you from the inside. Your shivering eventually calms and turns to purring in your chest. 

“What’s your name, Omega?” he asks. His voice is deep and gruff, and it threatens to make you shiver for a different reason as the timbre of it washes over you. 

It’s difficult, but you manage to speak, clearing past your parched throat to give him your name. He nods, as if rolling the sound of it back and forth across his mind.

“Was somebody out there with you?” he asks.

You shake your head, even though the thought elicits a painful twinge in your heart. 

“Who…” you try to speak again, even though it hurts a little. “Who are you?”

You feel him take a deep breath. He hesitates, like he’s reluctant to give it to you. 

“Dean,” he says. 

You roll the name around in your head, over and over. Dean, Dean, Dean…

You smile slightly. “Yeah, makes sense.”

“What?” he says. You hear the raised brow in his tone. 

“You sound like a Dean,” you say, perhaps a little delirious. 

Anyway, that’s when your eyes close on you again. You fall back into the warm lull of sleep, to the sound of a crackling fire, and a feeling that permeates throughout your body.

Safe.

Can’t fucking believe this, Dean thinks, as he holds you. Just when he thought his life was done throwing him curveballs.

He tips his head back against the sofa cushion with a tired exhale. It would just be his luck to find a stray omega wandering his stretch of Big Sky. Montana can be gnarly in the winter, but for the past couple of years, Dean has learned to survive here in this rental cabin for a couple of months at a time, when wandering an empty bunker gets to be too much. At least here the quiet’s peaceful, if still a little unnerving sometimes. 

He glances down at you. Now that you’re warm and sleeping again, he should find something to wrap your ankle and ice it down. It’s swollen, and he wants to take an inventory of your other injuries, so he can determine how to get you back down the mountain and through the woods, back to civilization.

The sooner he gets you medical attention and back to your life, the sooner he can get back to his—even though the thought of leaving you in anyone else’s hands almost stirs a growl in his throat.

And that last part unnerves him, makes him anxious. He begins to untangle himself from you, but his movements falter when your sweet scent filters through his nose again. Cinnamon apples, with a hint of something floral. 

Fuck me.

It’s almost too sweet to be true, but Dean does his best to ignore it…and what that alluring sweetness probably means. 

Dean leaves you in the morning to revisit the site where you fell. He digs through the snow and manages to find your backpack, filled with your clothes, supplies, and your phone and wallet. He returns just in time. 

The falling snow becomes even more intense, until it becomes a quiet roar outside. You watch the snowstorm through the impact windows in the kitchen, and you know what this means. You’re snowed in with a stranger—an alpha, no less. 

You also have a bum ankle, which he wrapped for you. Doesn’t feel broken, he’d said, but it could be fractured, or at the very least sprained. You also likely have a couple of cracked ribs. 

“What were you doing out there, anyway?” he asks, while pouring himself a glass of whiskey. “This ain’t exactly hiking season.”

While you drink some hot chocolate he made you with a bit of whiskey splashed in (for extra warmth), you explain.

“Well, I guess it wasn’t my best idea in hindsight,” you say with a weak chuckle. “I was trying to find my way back, and I…well, I was a bit lost.”

He raises his brows wryly, still sipping.

“And to make a great situation even better, I thought I heard a wolf howl nearby,” you say. “I know most of them would rather run from us than attack us, but you can’t be sure, you know? I had my rifle on me, so I was turning around, trying to pinpoint what direction it was in…and of course, my foot slipped on something.”

You fell down that hill. You think you even hit a tree on the way down, which would explain your ribs. Everything gets a bit swirly, cold, and dark in your memory after that. 

Dean shakes his head. “Gotta say, going out there alone wasn’t a great idea either, especially now. This time of year, there’s no telling when a blizzard like this is going to come through.”

He waves haphazardly toward the storm raging outside. Your gaze falls to the mug in your hands. You don’t really want to talk about your reasons for taking that risk, but maybe giving him a little honesty will get him off your back.

“My dad and I used to hike up here every year,” you confess. “A few months ago…I lost him. So I guess this was just something I needed to do.”

You blow on your hot chocolate before you take another sip. This time when you glance up, Dean’s judgy expression has evened out into something more sympathetic. He lowers his glass.

“Well, hate to break it to you, but there’s no cell service up here,” he says.

You give a humorless huff. “Believe me, I know.”

“Which means no one can come up here and get you,” he continues, “and even when this storm breaks, I can’t carry you all the way down the mountain back to civilization. Not with the snow as deep as it’s gonna get. Now…maybe I can go down by myself and bring help back with me.”

“But another storm could snow me in,” you realize, with growing apprehension at the thought.

Dean nods. “It’s either I take that chance, leave you by yourself. Or we wait for you to heal up.”

He leaves the choice up to you with a gesture of his hand, the one still wrapped around his glass. You weigh those options with a tilt of your head. On one hand, you don't want to impose on him longer than you had to, but on the other, you really don't want to be left alone in this cabin for God knows how long while he scales the mountain by himself, for your sake.

“I think it would be better if we go down together, right? It can be dangerous, even when the storm breaks,” you reply.

Dean nods slowly, like that was what he was going to suggest too. “All right. Well, until you’ve got two working legs, you’re stuck here with me.”

“I figured as much,” you say. Your head tilts as you consider him. He has a gruff exterior, but all his actions so far have been kind, and far more than you’d expect from a stranger. And an alpha at that. 

Not to say that all alpha's are assholes, but you've had far too many experiences with the stereotype: arrogant, entitled, and handsy. Can't forget handsy. 

“Thank you for saving me,” you say, meeting his gaze, “and for…well, being a decent guy.”

Dean’s lips twitch. He nearly chuckles. Instead, he sits back on his side of the couch. 

“Yeah, well, there’s a spare room in this place for you, one bathroom. The kitchen is stocked. I’m a half-decent cook, if I say so myself, but help yourself.”

He gets up from the couch without preamble, to go to his room, you assume. It leaves you feeling at a loss, like he’s trying to get away from you. You know you’re a guest in his space, so you try to respect the way he wants to be alone for a while. He definitely gives off loner vibes. 

You look around and find a collection of vinyl records, and smaller collection of books on a shelf next to the fireplace. You find Gulliver’s Travels, Dune, The Odyssey, The Wizard of Oz—books you didn’t think a guy like Dean would be into. 

You take up The Wizard of Oz, reclaim your spot on the chaise, and start reading.

That night, your dreams are plagued by the crunch of dead leaves, your father shouting at you to run, and to keep running.

The coarse roar of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short.  

You wake with a start, your body both cold and flush at the same time.

Dean is there once again. It confuses you at first, but then it all returns to you in a rush—the where and the why you’re here, once again with the alpha standing over you in concern. He grasps your shoulder and asks if you’re all right. Your breathing is too erratic for you to answer him, your eyes too wide, your body trembling.

Had you been making noise in your sleep? You blush in embarrassment at the thought. You also feel bad for waking him, and all those things get trapped in your throat.

Seeing that you’re most definitely not fine, he sits on the edge of the bed, squeezes your arm, and reminds you. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe here,” he tells you. His tone is deep and even, reassuring.

You meet his steady gaze and manage to nod, trying to catch your breath. 

“I’m okay,” you say, with a shaky nod. He gives you a measuring look, both a question and a confirmation. You give it to him with a firmer nod. “Thanks, I…I’m sorry I woke you up.”

He exhales through his nose, accepting. “‘S all right. Don’t worry about it.” 

You feel the loss of his touch when his hand eventually slip away from your shoulder. As soon as he came into your room, he’s gone. 

Dean leaves swiftly, trying to brush off how the scent of your fear had tugged sharply at his gut even in his sleep. It not only woke him up, but compelled him to kick his blankets off and get out of bed to go to you.  

You were having a nightmare, reliving your fall, if he had to guess. You came out of it pretty quick when he carefully grabbed your shoulder. Every instinct in his body told him to gather you into his arms and cover you with his own scent and protective embrace to calm you down. 

Through sheer willpower, he managed to ignore every single one of those instincts.  

Two days pass, in which you and Dean say very little to one another, besides when he asks you what you want to eat, and how you’re feeling. The alpha seems genuine, but guarded any time you ask him about him; anything that’ll give you a clue into who this guy is, and why he’s here. 

You try again to strike up some kind of conversation over dinner one night. 

“Do you live here year-round?” you ask, around a mouthful of burger that’s absolutely delicious. He wasn’t lying when he claimed to be a good cook. He even made the fries himself.

“No,” he replies. “No Netflix, no internet? Think I’d die of boredom. I just come up here to uh…take a beat, I guess.” 

You smile. “I don’t blame you. Sometimes you just need a break,” you say, even though your tone is heavier than you meant it to be. Your gaze, a bit distant in that moment, sharpens and focuses back on Dean. “Where are you from, then?”

“Kansas,” he offers.

“Oh really?” You brighten with that scrap of information. “My older sister lives in Topeka. She moved there for a job, initially, but then she met her guy. He’s some kind of day trader. Which is just code for sits on his ass playing Call of Duty while she busts hers.” 

Dean huffs, then crams more burger into his mouth. He hasn’t been giving you a lot to go on while you two have been talking. Unfortunately, you have the tendency to ramble and fill the silence before it becomes even more stifled. 

“She works at a bank. Smart, driven, always knows what she wants. Meanwhile, I’ve had about seven jobs in the last three years, none of which were even remotely related to my almost useless degree in Communications.”

“Yeah, doubt you need a degree in communicating,” Dean remarks, popping another fry into his mouth.

 You purse your lips at him, but the glint of teasing in his eyes makes you fight not to smile. 

“All right, smart guy. So, what about you?” you ask.

Predictably, the man’s walls firm back up. “What about me?”

“Well…why’re you up here alone? Do you have family?” you ask.

Dean quirks a half smile. “I’ve got a brother.”

“Okay. Younger, I’m guessing?”

He tilts his head at you, a bit amused at your guess. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I can’t imagine you with a brother who’s older than you.”

His lips twitch. “You callin’ me old, sweetheart?”

You begin to blush with embarrassment. But also, sweetheart?

You shake your head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just mean like…”

Dean saves you with the return of his smile.

“Yeah, he’s younger,” he says. “But he’s the one with the quasi-wife and the apple pie life.” 

“Quasi-wife?”

“They’re mated. Just haven’t gotten around to the whole getting hitched thing,” he explains. “But they’re happy. Dean Jr.’s growing up fast, already running full speed into glass doors.”

His smile is genuine when he talks about his brother, just tinged with a bit of melancholy, you think. 

“Dean Jr.?” you ask in amusement. Dean Sr. laughs a little, and you enjoy the sound, the way it lightens up his face and pulls at the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah, can’t say I wasn’t surprised myself to get that honor, but…hey, it works for the kid. He’s got my chin,” he remarks.

He digs into his pocket to show you a picture from his cell phone. Even though it doesn’t have service, you can still view the many pictures of the adorable infant in his camera roll, courtesy of Sam and his mate, Eileen. You coo at the chubby cheeks, the bright little eyes, and the swirled tuft of dark hair on his head.

“Where do they live?” you ask.

“Out west, a stone’s throw from the City of Angels.” Dean’s smile dims. “He just had to go back to California.”

“What’s wrong with California?” you ask.

“It’s full of pretentious douchebags, that’s what,” he says, his voice a dry whip. “Waxed up to the fucking eyeballs, smelling like Botox, Adderall, and sweaty desperation.”

You splutter laughing so bad that your diet coke escapes you in a spit take. It partially goes up into your nose, burning, stinging your eyes, but it’s made worse by the way Dean waves a hand up incredulously. You’ve just gotten half his sleeve wet.

He meets your gaze, and you can’t help but laugh even harder. 

“Wow,” he says. 

“God, I’m sorry,” you say, still giggling. You get up, hobble over to the kitchen counter, and rip off a paper towel to try and pat his arm dry. He takes it from you and helps you back into your seat.

“I got it, Spit Take. Just finish your food,” he says, if with a dancing gleam in his eyes.  

From then on, it becomes easier for you to pull the alpha into conversation. Besides reading, napping, and staring out the window while it snows, you don’t have much by way of entertainment. Not to mention the pain of trying to get around without crutches, as it also jostles your ribs. Dean often has to help you from one room to another, which of course, you get embarrassed by.

“I’m sorry!” you yelp, when he saves you from another crash landing in the hallway. You’re fresh out of a shower, and it had taken you twenty minutes just to figure out how to wash your hair on one leg, let alone dry yourself off and get your shirt and borrowed sweatpants on. The main problem in getting back to your room happened to be the pants themselves. Their length and bagginess made you slip.

At least Dean’s learned to ignore your apologies. He now holds you by the waist, having pulled you against his chest on reflex. With furrowed brows, he notices your pained hiss when you grab onto his arms for balance.

“You okay?” he asks with a note of alarm.

“Ribs,” you gasp. They’re throbbing sharply with his hold, especially after being rattled by the near fall.

He immediately adjusts his hold lower, holding your arm and hip to support you. His hands are strong, but gentle. The warmth and pressure of his touch rattles you more than almost falling into a heap. Cliché as it might be, your heart is beating faster, what seems like in and out of rhythm. A feeling you can’t name stirs and tugs at your lower belly when you hazard looking up into his eyes. They’re a nice shade of green, like a forest floor in the spring.

“You just go ass over tea kettle at any moment, huh?” he quips, his lips tugging upward. “Come on. Where were you headed?”

“To my room, wise guy,” you say wryly, even as your blush heats your face and neck. “But this is a great taxi service.”

He snorts. “Yeah, call it the Winchestermobile.”

“Winchester. That your last name? Like the rifle?” you ask, while he helps you carefully down the hall. He nods in confirmation.

“That’s interesting. You don’t meet many Winchesters,” you remark.

“Yeah, well, ain’t that many left,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, easing you down onto the edge of the bed. His hands go to his hips as he scrutinizes your form for further injury. “You good? I was about to get cracking on some lunch.”

You offer him a grateful smile. “Yeah, I’m good. What’s on the menu?”

“Nothing fancy. I’m thinking grilled cheese. Maybe some tomato soup, assuming I can find a can in the pantry,” he says.

“Honestly, that sounds awesome,” you say. “Haven’t had a grilled since…God, probably since I was a kid.”

At that, Dean smiles. “Well, I happen to make an awesome one. No less than three kinds of cheese.”

“If they’re as good as your burgers, then I don’t doubt it,” you reply. He seems pleased at that, and maybe a little bashful as his gaze falls away.

Cute, you think. Your smile grows.

“All right, well, stay tuned,” he says. He winks, tossing you a “gun for hand” gesture that makes you laugh. Dean wears a rugged exterior as easily as his winter jacket, but he’s also kind of a dork.

After lunch (delicious, as you predicted), you take the afternoon just to sort through Dean’s records and alphabetize them for him. You hunker down on the floor in front of the shelf, close to the record player. 

“I don’t need all that. I know where all my stuff is…more or less,” he says, with a lazy wave of the beer he has in hand. 

“Oh really?” you raise a brow. “Okay, let’s test that theory. Where’s Boston.” 

“Right next to the White Album, there on the left.”

Sure enough, you find Boston, as well as the White Album by the Beatles.  

“Oh my God, you actually have the White Album?” You open up the double-sided case in excitement to read the list of songs printed on the inside. “This thing is so expensive.” 

“Beatles fan, huh?” Dean says as he takes a seat on the couch. You turn your smile on him, and he stills in his seat.

“Uh, yeah. Who isn’t?” you say.

Dean shrugs with a smile of his own. “Put it on if you want.”

You bounce a little with excitement before you figure out how to turn on his record player. You put the vinyl album on Side B, moving the needle until you find “Blackbird.”

“Of course,” Dean says, slightly teasing. You turn to him with crunched brows.  

“What? ‘Blackbird’s’ a classic.”

“Eh. Everyone likes ‘Blackbird.’”

“That’s what a classic means,” you argue.

“More like a mainstream copout,” he says. You think it’s just to needle you, but you still purse your lips. 

“Fine, Mr. Music Snob. Then what’s your favorite?”

“On the White Album?”

“Any Beatles song.”

“‘Hey, Jude,’” he says, after a moment. There’s some kind of weight in his eyes, a note of melancholy. You don’t miss it, even though you don’t know why it’s there.

“Everyone likes ‘Hey, Jude,’” you quip, trying to lighten him. 

He smiles a little. “Yeah. Fair enough.”

Finally, the snowstorm breaks. Dean ventures outside and brings you back a long, sturdy stick to lean your weight on when you want to move around, though he claims he’s working on a better solution. Now that the snow has let up, he’ll be able to go out to the shed and do some work. 

Whatever that means, you think.

You watch him from the living room when he goes outside to chop some more firewood. 

He should really wear a hat. His brown hair is getting dusted white with snow flurries as he continues to swing down the ax. You notice the power in his tall frame, even covered by layers of his jacket, pants, and boots. You almost feel each chop of the wood resonate in your chest. 

Heat rises in your cheeks when he looks up, as if he senses he’s being watched. You bow your head and pretend to read your book.

His boots continue to crunch in the snow as he makes trips back and forth from the surrounding forest. Aside from the firewood, he brings back a few long, thinner logs that he takes to the shed. Soon you begin to hear the steady back-and-forth cutting of a saw. You wish you could go out there and take a look, but you can’t even get around the house that easily, let alone venture outside.

Your curiosity about this man knows no bounds, and you decide to use the walking stick he found for you in the meantime to get around without putting pressure on your injured ankle. You know it’s wrong, but you end up traversing the long, dark hallway, pushing open the door to the right, and venturing into Dean’s room. 

It smells like him, earthy and tinged with smoke. His scent is seeped into every part of it—the bed, the dresser and nightstands, the dark blue bedsheets, the desk and chair, and even the drapes. It makes you almost lightheaded at the pleasurable feeling of it washing over you.

A shudder suddenly runs down your spine and tugs at your core in arousal. With a sharp intake of breath, you have to shift on your feet, pressing your legs together against the slick already forming down below.

You’re shocked and embarrassed at first. You aim to bolt out of his room, but you stop short in the doorway as it dawns on you.

Your sister is a beta, and so is her husband. She’s never completely understood you as an omega. She never understood your parents either, or the bond they had. She always scoffed at the idea of “true mates.”

Soulmates. It was fantasy and myth, the stuff of cheesy Harlequin novels.

Growing up, you’d agreed with her, even though a part of you deep down always protested. It wanted to tell her not to open her mouth about something she knew nothing about, and would never know. 

The day you met Dean, you knew she was wrong. 

Your more logical mind tries again to reassert itself though. You remind yourself that you barely know anything about this man, no matter how attractive, kind, funny, enigmatic… 

And yet, you can’t shake that part of you that doesn’t rest until you see his face in the morning; until you make him coffee and eat breakfast together, and take any opportunity to pull more threads from him. It’s more than passing attraction. It’s more than just being stuck together in this cabin, unable to escape each other. You know, because the feeling scares you, and it electrifies your blood at the same time.

All these thoughts go through your mind when you turn back around. Slowly, you continue to look around his room, your whole body tingling. The room is neat, more or less, with everything in its proper place. It’s pretty bare though, décor wise. There’s a desk with a few scattered books and a journal sandwiched in between. A smile of surprise forms across your face.

No. Don’t tell me this guy is Mr. Dear Diary? you think in amusement. Though you wonder if it’s another way he passes his time here, especially when he’s holed up in his room.

You know you shouldn’t be snooping, let alone contemplating what you’re about to do…but you can’t help yourself. Biting your lip, you slide out the journal and begin to flip through it. 

You frown at the strange drawings and odd entries—dates, narratives, scraps of information on different types of mythological creatures, and even more strange, on how to kill them. 

What the hell is this?

That’s when you hear the front door swing open. You bolt from his room as quick as you can, not realizing you took the journal with you in your haste. You stuff it up your sweater and pretend like you’ve just come out of the bathroom on the way back to your room. There you slide the journal under your pillow. You jump when Dean knocks on your door.

“Hey,” he greets.

The jolting pains your ribs, and your hand goes to your left side in a hiss. 

“You okay?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern. He takes a step into your room, but you turn to him with a nod and a placating hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You just scared me,” you say, with a bit of nervous laughter.

He gives a half smile. “Sorry. Just come ‘ere a sec. I wanna show you something.”

He reaches out a hand to help guide you to the living room.

There he presents you with two rudimentary crutches. Your eyes widen as your free hand passes over the smooth chestnut color of the wood. Dean keeps a light hold on your elbow, just in case.

“You made these?” you ask.

“Yeah, just a bit of woodworking. Picked it up over the last couple of years,” he says.

He’s downplaying it, but you’re nothing short of marveling. You set aside the walking stick in favor of picking up the crutches, and they’re even the right size to position them under your arms.

“Now you don’t have to hobble around like Long John Silver,” Dean quips. You meet the sight of his grin with a raised brow, but you soon begin to smile. When you get close enough to him, you lean the crutches against the couch and give him a warm hug, resting your head on his chest.

“Thank you,” you say. It’s something he was wholly unprepared for, but he hugs you back with a chuckle.

“Uh, you’re welcome.”

Just then, he tries not to inhale your scent. He tries not to focus on the feeling of your body pressed soft and warm against his. You fit just right. 

After a beat, you have mercy on him and pull away. You take your crutches back up and continue to walk around the living room experimentally. 

“You think I’d be okay trying to go outside?” you ask on your way to the door. Dean tenses.

“Uh, I don’t think—”

But you’re already halfway out the door. He shakes his head and follows you with swift strides. He watches you step out carefully onto the porch like a baby deer. He cleared the snow this morning from the deck and the steps, but he’s more concerned when he sees you considering how you might step out onto the snow.

“Stay on the porch, all right, Bambi,” he warns. “You’re not wearing snow boots and it’s still pretty deep. Not to mention, I’ve been keeping an eye out for a bear that wandered through here last week—”

You turn to look at him over your shoulder in amusement.

“Okay, Alpha. Calm down,” you say playfully. “I’m not gonna go ass over tea kettle.”  

His brow twitches as he frowns. Alpha. He fights not to show his reaction to the way you said it; it calls to his baser instincts, almost stirring a rumble in his chest.

Cheeky little omega.

You keep to the porch, but regardless, you’re happy. You don’t even mind the cold. You see your breath on the air, and you tip your head back, closing your eyes with a smile as the sunshine warms your face. You inhale through your nose and let it out slowly in contentment. 

“It’s a good day, Dean,” you say quietly. 

You don’t realize that he’s watching you with a more reserved smile on his face. When he realizes it, he shakes his head at himself. He’s only been here a week with you, and it’ll probably take a couple more for your ankle to heal up well enough for you to walk again, let alone get down the mountain. 

He doesn’t want to leave you alone up here, so he’ll have to somehow keep fending off your probing questions into his past and personal life. There's a lifetime of blood, nightmares, and death that he just can't let you see behind his eyes.

Hell, he's been trying to shove it all down for the past year—in booze and odd jobs and trips to nowhere, always coming back to an empty bunker. He still wonders how Sam's managed to do it, to move on, and build a new life for himself.

If Dean's honest (and he's not), he feels a bit like this cabin; old, falling apart, and forgotten.

But he’ll have to keep taking in your brightness and warmth, continue arguing with you about music and other inane shit, and pretend that every small touch of yours doesn’t ignite his skin. That it doesn’t make him have to beat down every instinct he has to pull you into his body and blanket you with his scent, ravage you, claim you, and make you his. 

He never thought this would happen to him. He never thought someone like you was out there…for someone like him.

He knows it though, deep in his gut. You’re meant for him. You’re meant to be his mate.

Which means he’s already screwed. 

AN: And we're off! Special thanks again to Michelle (@luci-in-trenchcoats) for being my sounding board when I was first writing this series. Let me know what you think of Part 1! 💜

Next Time:

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed…

When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

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[helen-lucilfer]

some Chrollo things i found/realized on my rewatch + reread of hxh

- he has REALLY bad posture. in the PT base during yorknew, when Chrollo is reading a book, he is literally hunched over and his back is at like a 45 degree angle🥺

- he’s very smug and cocky. after his fight against Zeno and Silva, he asks with a smirk to Zeno “if we were in a fight, who would win, you or me?” and chuckles knowingly when Zeno replies. during Chrollo vs Hisoka, Chrollo says that he is “100% sure that i am going to win”

- his personality switches depending on who he’s with. with the troupe, he’s logical and stoic—never losing his temper. when he’s with Hisoka, he’s much more relaxed and friendly + smiles much more often. when he’s with someone older, he’s respectful.

- he doesn’t seem to mind celebrations/parties. he’s seen drinking with the troupe in a manga panel after the auction.

- he seems very self aware of his handsome appearance, as he lured Neon in + most of the abilities in his book are from women.

- in terms of physical strength, Chrollo is 7th in the Troupe —above Bonolenov, Nobunaga, Shalnark, Pakunoda, Shizuku, and Kortopi, making him MUCH MUCH MUCH stronger than even superhumans such as Gon and Killua. (I love this fact for some reason)

- he had many similarities to Gon and Kurapika as a kid. (read Ch. 395-397, which is the Troupe backstory. it has a lot of cute baby Troupe member scenes🥺)

- he has a habit of covering his mouth with his hand whenever he is thinking deeply about something or connecting the lines.

- he knows a shocking amount about the Kakin Empire (in the manga), even more so than some of the Princes of the Kakin Empire.

- he seems to have a habit of smirking whenever something is going according to plan or when something went according to plan. he also just seems to enjoy smirking in general.

- his favorite color seems to be purple due to much of his outfits being some sort of variation of purple.

- in official arts + mobage cards, he seems to have dark circles under his eyes. in the yorknew city arc, he is also the only troupe member who didn’t sleep during the entire arc, meaning that he seems to have some sort of insomnia.

- in mobage cards, Chrollo seems to have a habit of fidgeting with his clothes. (pulling off his tie during the Christmas mobage card, playing with his hat, etc,.)

- he is very athletic, considering how at the end of yorknew city when he was left nen-less on those plateaus, he managed to climb down and find shelter all by himself.

- he is also very rich, since on average, every Zoldyck assassination costs around 1 billion—Chrollo managed to afford to assassinate the 10 Dons, meaning 10 billion Jenny.

- Chrollo doesn’t seem to care whenever someone is being disrespectful towards him or the troupe.

- Chrollo seems to have a particular fondness for suits, as he is often seen wearing a suit in official arts

- Chrollo often wears clothing that covers much of his body

- Chrollo seems to have the traditional values of a chivalrous man, meaning that he respects women quite a lot and makes sures to keep them safe. Chrollo made sure to catch Neon in the most respectful way when she “fell” (he literally could have just grabbed her by the arm and it would have been fine), he made sure to keep Pakunoda + Machi + Shizuku in the same team during yorknew (there were no men in their team), and during the Chrollo vs Hisoka battle, none of the female spectators (or even the commentator) were harmed.

———

AUGHHHHHH CHROLLO ILYSM PLEASE LIVE UNTIL THE END OF THE SERIES😭🥺😫❤️CHROLLOOOO UR MY BBY AND ILYSMMMMM😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥹🥹🥹❤️❤️❤️😫😫😫💕💕💕

[moirasdolly]

I don’t want to be a greedy bastard but if at some point you feel inspired to write more mtf!JQ I would 👹❤️😩💀👹🎀🥹😩❤️👹🎀👹👹🩷🎀🩷🫵😚😩👹🎀🩷

Junker Queen with a Housewife Reader ˖ ࣪ 𝇋♡︎𝇌 ׂ

Contains: NSFW (men and minors dni), fem reader, trans jq, fucking on the kitchen counter, reader is wearing a frilly apron, jq is kind of rough

Listening to ♪ ིྀ: Stargirl Interlude - The Weeknd and Lana Del Rey

Notes: It’s been TOOOOO LONG since this request i’m sorry I’m just barely getting to it T^T, I hope these hcs suffice though !! I love my buff wife

• Your wife had been coming home stressed everyday, and as much as she claimed your presence alone helped her, you wanted to do something extra… special for her.

• Ever the sweet, kind hearted, angel you were, you decided to doll yourself up for her. Going all out you were adorned in a little, pink, frilly apron and matching lacy panties that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. A velvet choker wrapped around your neck snuggly and thin ribbons decorated your hair. Your long lashes framed your pretty doe eyes that absolutely drove Dez insane when you looked up at her towering form. And your favorite part (hers too) were the thighs highs being held up by snug garters.

• She adored you anyway you looked, but she couldn’t deny that she loved when you got all done up for her.

• You were at home cooking her favorite meal for her when she had finally returned. A slam of the front door, and the sound of her heavy boots echoing down the hallway rang in your ears before you heard her stop in her tracks.

• You hummed softly as you continued your cooking, not bothering to shoot her a glance to rile her up. Dez was too predictable because not even 5 seconds later, she was pressed against your backside, clearly personal space was something she did not get the concept of (not that you cared.)

• “Hi, Dez.” You finally tossed her a look over your shoulder, pressing a sweet little kiss to the apple of her cheek. Instead of an answer back, her hands trailed to your hips, holding you snuggly. A gasp escaped those pretty lips of yours when you felt her bulge pressing against you. “Someone’s needy today…” You teased with a smile.

• She cursed at the sound of your honey-toned voice, “Fuck, darlin’. You’re killin’ me here.”

• You were trying sooooo hard to keep it together while you prepared dinner, but your wife’s hands were just holding you so tightly, almost with bruising strength. And she was grinding her hips into you so temptingly. Those grunts being pulled out of her throat were just too distracting for you to think about anything else.

• The tell-tale sound of her belt unbuckling and fabric hitting the floor made you bite your lip in anticipation. You wanted to buck your hips back, eager to feel her, but you steadied yourself in anticipation. Instead, you felt Dez’s length slide between your thighs. With a heavy hand she smacked your ass, “Squeeze ‘em, doll.” Obedient as ever, you pressed your thighs together, leaning over the counter to expose yourself for her.

• Her cock was already slick with her arousal as she fucked your thighs, using you to her own liking. Her pace was brutal from the start and she didn’t plan on slowing either. The friction on your clit was barely there and you were whining Dez’s ears off about it. So she took matters into her own hands. Literally. She shoved her middle and index finger into your mouth, shutting you up effectively. “That’s more like it.” She muttered, using your thighs together get off.

• “Gonna cum between those thighs of yours…” She rasped out, grunting in your ears as she painted the inside of your thighs and the kitchen cabinet with her release.

• Her hips stilled and her fingers slid from your mouth with a string of saliva connecting them together. You knew she wasn’t done with you though. Her hand trailed up your body before settling in your hair, grabbing a fist full of it and pulling your head back. “Beg for me.”

• Your brain was already mush, you had no problem begging and pleading for your wife to absolutely destroy you, and to your delight, she had no problem complying.

• She gave you no time to prepare before sliding into your inviting cunt, cursing loudly as she did so. Her grip on your hair didn’t falter either, if anything she pulled you closer. Her free hand pressed against your stomach as she fucked you into the counter.

• Dirty, lewd words were growled into your ear as she fucked you dumb. She was absolutely relentless, but you loved it. Wet squelches, deep grunts, and your high pitched whines were the only noises to be heard and Dez was absolutely eating it up.

• She was hell bent on making you cum without touching your clit, and you were quickly approaching your release.

• With a few final thrusts, your body shook with pleasure, your knees almost buckling beneath you. If Dez wasn’t holding you so tightly, you would have fallen. Not too long after Dez came, releasing into you.

• She slumped forward, her body eclipsing your own. “My pretty baby, ya did so well.” She spoke after a moment, untangling her haha from your hair. When she pulled out you pouted at the empty feeling she left.

• She let one of her hands knead your ass softly before giving you one last smack. You whimpered softly as you felt Dez’s cum dripping down your thighs as you struggled to stand up.

• Your wife scooped you into her arms, peppering your face with soft kisses. It was a 180 from how she was handling you just moments before, but you knew your wife adored you and you loved the soft moments between you two.

• “Let’s get ya cleaned up, baby.”

• Let’s just say once the stove was turned off, whatever you were cooking was forgotten. Dez would rather eat something else for dinner.

[luvhotchner]

christmas party day 2 - a nonsense christmas

summary: pop star reader releases a raunchy christmas song

warnings/pairings: fem!singer!reader x aaron hotchner, use of y/n, a few sex jokes?

i love sabrina carpenter sm! used lyrics from a nonsense christmas, is it new years yet?, and santa doesn’t know you like i do!!! also i posted 2 fics in one day?? this one’s long asf i apologize 😭

fic under the cut! i love you all!

y/n.y/ln

♡liked by bbygirlgarcia, billieeilish, and 471,608 others.

y/n.y/l/n i need that charles dickens 💋

view all comments…

reneerapp woah mama

↳ y/n.y/l/n ilyyy

spencerwreid love the songs, y/n but please never ever sing about my boss’s “huge north pole” ever again.

↳ itgirl_emily CANT FORGET ABOUT “BIG SNOWBALLS” HELLO???

↳ y/n.y/l/n mb chat 😔

user THIS SONG IS SO GOOD OH MY GODDD

user oh i just know her boyfriend is treating her right

chocolatethunder @aaronhotchner05 you are one lucky duckling

↳ aaronhotchner05 trust me, i know

user omg this is iconic

user i’m so jealous of her super secret boyfriend she won’t tell us about 🙄

thedavidrossi i know too much about your relationship with aaron from these songs…

↳ y/n.y/l/n but they’re good, don’t lie

↳ thedavidrossi they’re beautiful, bella

↳ jjiscraycray grammy winning fs

bbygirlgarcia come back to virginia i miss you!!

↳ y/n.y/l/n i miss you more, angel 😭❤️

↳ itgirl_emily hey what about me????

↳ y/n.y/l/n obv i miss you too em???

aaronhotchner05 you are incredible, i’m so proud of you sweetheart

↳ y/n.y/l/n ohhhh i’m soooo writing a song about you as we speak

itgirl_emily

♡liked by jjiscraycray, chocolatethunder, and 232 others.

itgirl_emily is it new years yet??

👤: y/n.y/l/n

view all comments…

y/n.y/l/n y/n reference????

↳ itgirl_emily when she writes the most pussy popping bops in the world 😩😩

↳ y/n.y/l/n when she’s a sexy fbi agent 😩

↳ aaronhotchner05 ???

↳ y/n.y/l/n don’t worry, you’re even sexier 😛

chocolatethunder our girl is back!!!

↳ aaronhotchner05 **my girl

↳ chocolatethunder my bad boss

bbygirlgarcia I MISSED YOU Y/N OMGGG, NEVER GO ON TOUR EVER AGAIN

↳ y/n.y/l/n never ever again, i promise!!!

spencerwreid never let these two drink together ever again.

aaronhotchner05

♡liked by y/n.y/l/n, chocolatethunder, and 246 others.

aaronhotchner05 “snowflakes in my stomach when we’re kissin’”

👤: y/n.y/l/n

view all comments…

y/n.y/l/n oh my i am smiling and giggling so hard

y/n.y/l/n WHEN HE LISTENS TO YOUR MUSIC ABSJDKWBEU

↳ spencerwreid he makes us listen to you on repeat on the jet.

y/n.y/l/n I LOVE MY MANNNNN

y/n.y/l/n wow i’m really in love with you it’s not even funny anymore

↳ aaronhotchner05 i love you so much more baby

bbygirlgarcia I STILL CANNOT BELIEVE YOU PULLED Y/N Y/L/N.

thedavidrossi i’m so happy for you, aaron

↳ aaronhotchner05 i’m so happy for me too

chocolatethunder how did hotch pull a literal pop star

↳ y/n.y/l/n did you listen to the songs 👀

↳ chocolatethunder EW EW EW EW

y/n.y/l/n

♡liked by aaronhotchner05, arianagrande, and 501,973 others.

y/n.y/l/n santa doesn’t know you like i do ❤️

view all comments…

user SHE POSTED HIM OH MY GOD

user IM SO HAPPY FOR HERRRRR

chappellroan oh this is my favourite thing ever??

user who is heeeee

↳ y/n.y/l/n santa

aaronhotchner05 don’t you wanna wrap me up and mistle touch under the tree?

↳ y/n.y/l/n AARON ANDKABDSJ IM GONNA MELT

jjiscraycray i’m so happy you’re in our lives 🥹

↳ y/n.y/l/n trust me j, i’m even happier 🩷

taglist for hotch!

@boccacciobunny @guacam011y@hotchhner @samaldonado5 @rousethemouse @mrs-prentiss @thawnexwells @minnimaffin @starkid024@abandonlilly @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @auggieblogs @yaykeira@justyourusualash @lover-of-books-and-tea

[hawthorne-bias]

OMG, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SUCH A SWEET AND DETAILED REBLOG, ANIKA!!! 🥹🥹🥹❤️❤️

CNS tumor classification is literally the bane of my existence. Like, I can spend several hours studying strokes, hemorrhages, infections, degenerative and autoimmune diseases of the brain, but ask me to read the tumors of CNS for just 15 minutes? I'm so sorry but I'd much rather read anything else. 😂😂😂 (Neurology is very dear to me, though!! I really love it—except, perhaps, the gross and microscopic features of the tumors. 😊😊)

The team and the Reader's family do crash their vacation at the most inopportune of moments—but yes, as you already said, Steve and the Reader still love them very much. 😌😌 (Many of the Reader's plans to make Steve's jaw drop to the ground whle being on vacay do need to take a rain check, though... Like, for example, there exists a certain two-piece swimsuit of hers that lives at the bottom of her wardrobe, 100% brand new and collecting dust. 🥲)

And omg, YES!! I too share your headcanon, bestie!! But, as you have already said, he doesn't hesitate to pull the Cap card when it's about his near and dear ones—and well, special circumstances need special measures, don't they? 😂😂

Thank you once again, Anika!! Wishing you a very Happy Holidays too!! ��🥰✨

honey yellow

Steve realizes he's become too much of a distraction for you as you prepare for your test tomorrow. But surely, there’s nothing he can do to fix this, is there?

tags: steve rogers x you; established relationship; tooth-rotting domestic fluff; steve 'the-best-boyfriend-ever' rogers; warning: steve isn't a goody two shoes; he's still the best boyfriend ever, though!

warnings: the reader is implied to be in med school (there's only one line of medical jargon). steve calls you 'doll', 'honey', 'sweetheart'. there's also one slightly suggestive sentence.

word count: 2106.

a/n: pictures used in header are from pinterest. dividers used here are by @inklore. mcu and its characters are not mine. likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!! hope you'll enjoy reading this! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

The soft clatter of a wooden spoon against the pot punctuates the quiet hum of the kitchen. Steve stands by the stove, stirring the bubbling soup, his posture relaxed but focused. The savory aroma of simmering vegetables fills the air, mingling with the faint sound of your pen scratching against paper at the dining room table. Or, well, it should be scratching. Steve’s senses, always sharp, pick up on the distinct absence of that sound far too soon. He feels it—your gaze—warm and unwavering, resting on him like sunlight.

He doesn’t say anything at first, biting back a smile. The attention, as always, makes his heart skip a little faster, but he wants to see how long you keep staring before realizing he’s caught on. Minutes tick by, the quiet growing thick with your distraction. Finally, he can’t resist anymore.

“Is there something on my face, doll?” he asks, his voice low and teasing, tinged with amusement as he glances up from the cutting board where he’s been scooping vegetable peelings to toss into the bin.

You startle visibly, jolting upright with a flustered, “N-no! Nothing!” Your cheeks flush, your eyes wide and guilty as if you’ve been caught sneaking a cookie before dinner. Then, almost as if the words slip out before you can catch them, you add, still stammering, “Except…except your beauty.”

Steve freezes for a moment, caught off guard by your earnestness. A soft blush creeps up his neck and spreads to his cheeks, but it isn’t the awkward compliment itself that gets to him—it’s the way you say it. Sweet and genuine, laced with nervousness that only makes you more endearing. His lips curve into a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he turns back to the stove.

“Well, thank you,” he says warmly, the teasing note still there but softened by affection. “But,” he adds, a little pointed now, “shouldn’t you be studying for that test tomorrow?”

You nod quickly, almost too quickly, as if eager to cover your embarrassment. “Y-yeah,” you mumble, eyes darting back to your notes with newfound intensity. Steve chuckles under his breath and lets you be, stirring the soup as he listens to you scribble furiously—though he can’t help noticing how it sounds a little more frantic than focused.

It lasts all of three-and-a-half minutes.

He feels your gaze again before he sees it, that same warm weight on his profile. He turns his head just slightly, catching you in the act, and your head immediately snaps back to your notes with a tiny, startled noise that makes him bite back a grin.

“Doll,” he calls out, exasperated but fond, his voice like a soft nudge.

You bury your face further into your notes, determined to stay glued to them this time. Or so it seems. Barely two minutes pass before your eyes stray back to him once again. This time, Steve doesn’t even bother looking up; he simply sighs, the corner of his mouth quirking upward as he stirs the vegetables in the pan.

“Doll,” he repeats, the one word carrying just enough warning to make you look away. But even as he returns to his task, he can feel it—something’s different this time. The weight of your gaze lingers, hesitant and unsure, before your voice breaks the silence.

“Do you…not like me staring at you, Steve?” you ask softly, the vulnerability in your tone making him pause mid-stir. He glances over to find you frowning, lips pulled into a pout that makes his heart clench. “I thought you liked having my eyes on you. That’s what you told me on our third date, wasn’t it?”

Steve sets the spoon down and turns to face you fully, his chest tightening at the sight of your downcast expression. God, you’re adorable. Too adorable. The kind of adorable that makes him want to cross the room and kiss that pout off your lips until it disappears entirely. But he holds himself back—barely.

“Honey,” he says softly, his voice gentler now, “I still love it when your focus is on me. I’ll never get tired of that.” He pauses, his lips twitching upward in a small, affectionate smile. “But not when you’re focusing on me instead of your studies. You’ve got a viva tomorrow, don’t you?”

Your pout deepens, and you cast an annoyed glance at your notes as if they’ve personally offended you. Then, with a dramatic sigh, you mutter, “I think I need a break.”

Steve raises a brow. “You just took a thirty-minute break less than an hour ago.”

Your brows furrow in thought, your lips pressing into a thin line before you finally counter, “It’ll only be two minutes! I can’t keep staring at CNS tumor classifications. If I have to read about astrocytomas, oligodendrogliomas, and ependymomas one more time, I’ll scream.”

Steve blinks, completely lost after the first word. “Astro-what now?” he mutters, shaking his head as you stretch with a groan, your back popping audibly. But before he can say more, your expectant gaze locks onto him, and in a heartbeat, he catches the spark of mischief dancing in your eyes.

“No,” he says firmly, even before you can open your mouth. “We’re not taking a nap.”

“Steve—”

“Nope,” he interrupts, shaking his head as he turns the stove off to avoid burning the soup. “Last time you ‘seduced’ me into taking a nap, we slept for four hours, and you had to pull an all-nighter before your test. Not happening again.”

You pout harder, your lips jutting out in that way you know makes him weak. “Steve…” you whine, dragging his name out with just the right amount of sweetness to chip away at his resolve. But he folds his arms across his chest, standing firm.

When that doesn’t work, you let out a dramatic sigh, muttering about how cruel and heartless he is for denying you a simple cuddle to “recharge your battery.” Steve tries to ignore you, but you suddenly perk up, a sly smile curling your lips.

“Okay, fine,” you say sweetly, “then how about just one kiss? That’ll help recharge me.”

Steve’s jaw tightens, the temptation tugging at him almost too hard. He remembers all the times you’ve pulled this trick before—how it always starts with “just one kiss” and somehow ends with him forgetting what day it is.

“Absolutely not,” he says, shaking his head again. “But you’re not the problem here, sweetheart. I am.”

You sigh heavily, slumping against the chair as you pout at him. Steve can’t help the amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. That pout—he’s seen it countless times before, though he’d never admit how much he secretly likes it. But this time, something in your expression shifts. The pout is still there, but the petulance gives way to frustration.

Your brows furrow, and your tone grows sharper as you mutter, “I need an incentive to study better.” You cross your arms, adding with a huff, “You’re being too hard on me, Steve. You probably don’t even love me anymore!”

That last bit catches him off guard, but he quickly recovers, shaking his head with a soft sigh. “Incentives, huh?” he says, leaning back against the counter. He rubs the back of his neck, letting a brief pause hang in the air before continuing. “I wanted to keep this a secret from you to make it a surprise, but I guess I need to tell you now—I’ve booked us a room at a ski resort for the upcoming weekend. A little trip to celebrate the end of your exams.”

He lets his words sink in for a beat before adding, in a tone deliberately thoughtful, “But seeing how negligent you’ve been about studying lately, I wonder how much we’ll be able to celebrate. You’ll be too miserable to enjoy yourself if your viva doesn’t go well, won’t you?”

Your head snaps up at that, indignation flaring in your eyes. “Hey, I’m not being negligent—”

But Steve cuts you off, sighing dramatically and shaking his head for good measure. “Well, poor me,” he says, his voice tinged with mock melancholy, “who’s made all these plans and gotten so excited…”

Your expression softens slightly, curiosity now replacing the earlier irritation. “It’s going to be just us two?” you ask, your voice quieter now, more serious.

Steve straightens, meeting your gaze and nodding firmly. “Of course.”

But your frown deepens, skepticism creeping into your features. “You said ‘of course’ the other three times too,” you remind him, your tone pointed but not unkind. “And then your friends come. Or my parents. Or my cousin and his spouse—”

Steve winces, letting out a soft chuckle as he raises his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, you’re right. That happened. But I didn’t mean to tell them we’d be going on a trip!” He offers you a sheepish smile, one he hopes is apologetic enough. “It just… slipped out. And they got so excited, I couldn’t tell them they couldn’t come. You know how it is.”

You level him with a steady gaze. “And you’re saying that didn’t happen this time?”

“Absolutely not,” he says quickly, his voice firm and reassuring. “No third parties. Just us.”

You don’t look entirely convinced, but Steve presses on, his excitement bubbling to the surface. “Snowboarding, hot cocoa on the balcony with the mountains in the background, late-night walks under the stars...” He lets his voice drop slightly, his tone growing more meaningful as he adds, “And the resort doesn’t have traditional rooms, you know. They’re cabins. Cozy little cabins.”

He notices your eyes widen, and with that subtle shift in your expression, he steps closer, his voice dropping even lower. “Just us. Bundled up on the rug by the fireplace, keeping each other warm all night long…”

Steve doesn’t miss the way your throat bobs or how your cheeks grow warm. Your gaze flickers away from his, and you clear your throat quietly. “I need to do well on this exam,” you mumble, straightening from your previously slouched posture before refocusing on the notes spread out on the table.

He watches, amused and thoroughly endeared, as you dive back into your notes with renewed determination. Your lips move silently as you read, forming words and phrases Steve doesn’t even attempt to understand. To him, they might as well have been in another language—science is your world, not his—but the way your focus sharpens and your posture straightens, the subtle fire lighting up your expression, fills him with a warmth that makes everything else fade away.

Steve smiles softly as he turns back to the stove, stirring the pot absently. When he glances at you again, utterly immersed in your work, his heart swells. You’re beautiful, not just in the obvious sense but in the quiet, understated way you pour yourself into everything you do.

Leaving the pot to simmer, Steve slips out of the room and into his office. He pulls out his phone, scrolling through his recent calls until he finds the one he wants. Pressing dial, he brings the phone to his ear.

“Hello, ma’am,” he says warmly. “I had called two weeks back to book a cabin for two…”

A while later, Steve is sitting at his desk, scrolling through his work email with a faint frown. Modern technology still trips him up now and then, and dealing with endless chains of messages doesn’t help.

“So, you won’t be there from Saturday till Tuesday, correct?” Natasha’s voice comes through the phone, her tone casual yet efficient. “Should I ask Hill to shift the meetings to later next week?”

“That would be great,” Steve replies, tapping at his phone to delete yet another email. “Thanks, Nat.”

“No problem,” Natasha says lightly, but there’s a curious edge to her voice. “But where will you both be staying? Didn’t you say all the hotels were already booked for this season?”

Steve hums, leaning back in his chair as he thinks of a tactful answer. “Oh, they certainly were,” he admits, his tone thoughtful. He deletes another batch of emails—most from a persistent politician he has no interest in endorsing. Steve has had enough of playing political games in his time and is done with it now. “But—”

He stops mid-sentence as his eyes drift to the open door. You pass by, coffee in hand, and offer him a small wave accompanied by a sleepy but excited smile. Steve feels his lips curve into a soft, loving smile before finishing, “Oh, all the hotels in the region were certainly booked—but for Steve Rogers, not for Captain America.”

if you've enjoyed this fic and would like to be tagged in my future fanfics, please drop an ask into my inbox! thank you so much for reading this!! <333

[minors and ageless blogs will not be tagged in the nsfw fics, by the way! i'm sorry!!]

[regencygossipgirl]

Nic's 2024 photo dump (Part One)❤️

Omg, you guys, I finally have time to properly post, and I’m literally levitating—what an absolutely beautiful, chaotic day! The delulu levels were completely off the charts, and there was just no containing it. I’m still reeling, like… I can’t believe it actually happened.

It felt just like the early days all over again—living the world tour in real time, getting hyped over every single piece of content, hearts fluttering nonstop, all the endless theories, and just that good energy floating around everywhere.

I’m just so, so happy.

Looking like an actual goddess: waist snatched, long hair, body bodying, and the polaroid!!!

Is the croissant picture from Italy? Paris? So many questions, and even more questions after that.

And here’s the star of the night: Nic and Luke proudly (well, sort of) showing off the drawings they made of each other. You know, the one where Lukey spent a totally normal amount of time finding just the right shade of blue to draw Nicola’s eyes? Yeah, that one.

And can we talk about the little box at Nicola’s feet and her sandals? 🥹 Absolutely adorable.

One of my absolute favorite looks from the world tour—and I just have to mention the polaroid again.

Now, what is this?!! I try to keep my feet on the ground (you know, to avoid breaking every bone when the inevitable fall happens), but why is Luke tagged in this picture? Rue, when was this? Where??

I looked it up, and these kinds of plates are typically for domestic use, and honestly, they scream Nicola, don’t they? Was it her house? An interview? A restaurant?

I know this part one is prob from Jan to Jun, but, omg, in Colin’s voice: I NEED TO KNOW!!

And then there’s this one. I thought it could’ve been from May, around the NY Bridgerton premiere, June when she shot the Kate Spade campaign (also when Luke was on Jimmy Fallon), or October for the Time 100 Next event.

Since Luke is actually tagged in the post and we know Jake went with her to NY in October, that left me with two options.

It was confirmed recently, thanks to some BTS from the Kate Spade shoot, that Nicola was in NY in June after the London premiere (and, of course, those pictures), around the same time Luke was on Jimmy Fallon. When I tell you my delulu was off the charts… I have no clue if they saw each other or if they had a conversation… Around that time, the Deuxmoi pic of Nicola at the airport came out, so… who knows? Either way, just keep in mind, we’re talking June, and now it’s December. Also, we didn’t see them together at all during the summer.

So, I’m thinking it was for the NY Bridgerton premiere, and either Luke took the picture or she tagged him because of the Bridgerton billboard.

We don’t really know what’s going on between them, but even though I usually stick to reality, today I let my imagination run wild. I haven’t felt like that in such a long time. Nicola posted 20 new pictures, and they were so real—just her being herself, not the perfectly curated celebrity stuff. It made me so happy.

This year has been huge for Nicola, and I really hope she’s proud of herself because I sure am. I love and admire her so much, and I’m always here to cheer her on every step of the way.

[elllisaaa]

Hello, Eli! ❤️

First off, your work gives me LIFE 😩 I love the way you write 🥹❤️

Secondly, I would like to request a afab reader x sub!dino (Seventeen) where the reader is older than him (like maybe a couple years at most, a year at the least)?

And if you’re comfortable, maybe he has a thing for calling her “Noona” inside and outside of the bedroom? 😁

If you’re only comfortable with doing the older!afab reader x sub!dino that’s totally fine! Please do with whatever is in your comfort zone ❤️

Thank you and love your work again! 🥹

- Anon 💚

hii anonie ! first thank you so much for this, it means a lot to me and i'm really glad you like my work that much ❤️ honestly, sub men are my weakness so it was no problem at all writing this, i'm sorry it took me so long to get to it but i hope you'll like it nonetheless, love you ❤️

CHAN with a NOONA KINK who had always been attracted to older women, and whose obsession only got worse as soon as he met you. you were the most beautiful human being he had ever seen, smart too, very funny and a dancer - exactly his type and more.

the first time you had told him you thought he was cute, chan felt like he might faint. but then, the first time he got a taste of your pussy, he got addicted for life. the noona thing was just some teasing at first, just because he knew you hated to be reminded of your age. but as time went on, he came to like it as a term of endearment. he called you "his noona" in front of his members and friends without any shame, he was proud and grateful to be able to call someone like you his - and he made it everyone else's business. and in the end, you came to like it too. it was especially very cute when you called him out for it and he blushed and became so shy.

the first time he called you that in bed, it shocked the both of you. you had been edging him for a while and chan was barely holding on to the last piece of his sanity, cheeks flushed and covered in tears, desperate, needy whine slipping past his lips. "please, please, please ! i need to cum noona, please…" you stopped moving your hand around his cock, and slapped his own over his mouth, embarrassment written all over his face. "you want noona to make you cum ?" you asked with a grin on your face, and chan hesitantly nodded, moaning as soon as you started to stroke him again. "then go on baby, be a good boy and cum for noona." you whispered against his ear, and chan didn't need more than that to cover your hand in his sticky release.

you calling yourself "noona" made chan hard every time, but you couldn't deny how wet it made you whenever he moaned the petname in a broken voice. either way, chan always made sure to claim his amazing noona, and you always made sure to reward him just as he liked it.

[silenzahra]

I just can't get over Mario's face oh my God he loves his little brother SO MUCH 🥹❤️💚

Luigi just being Luigi and Mario loving every second of it.

[helen-lucilfer]

ranking the phantom troupe based on how good of parents they would be

1. chrollo. the way that this isn’t even because i have favoritism towards chrollo, its because he’s so responsible🥹🥹🥹 like do you see the way that he basically takes care of the troupe? fathered so hard he mothered tbh. chrollo is literally so girl dad coded🥺 prolly cried when his held his child for the first time. he’d be the sweetest, brushing his daughter’s hair and taking her shopping.

2. pakunoda. she’s so respectful and self sacrificial and responsible im crying🥺 she makes me cry real skibidi tears like togashi look at what you took away from us. she’d be the literal sweetest mama ever. she’s soooo girl mom coded it’s insane. can you imagine her painting her daughter’s nails pink?🥹💕 she would 100% take her daughter on mall trips all the time.

3. phinks. controversial opinion but this guy would lowkey but SUCH A GOOD DAD. remember during the chimera ant arc when he gave shizuku his clothes because she lost hers? i just KNOW that he would play video games with his son and once begrudgingly wore a tiara for his daughter.

4. franklin. i don’t think he’d ever have kids (or want them for that matter), but if ever were to babysit kids, just know that he’ll be great. since we all know that he’s literally just a chill guy, he’ll just let the kids play video games and eat food the whole time.

5. nobunaga. okay okay HEAR ME OUT HE WOULD BE SO CUTE. like okay he wouldn’t be a “good” parent, but can you imagine him running around with his kid wreaking havoc and letting them play with his hair? like come on that’s literally like my dream dad😭❤️

6. shizuku. now she definitely is NOT responsible, but she doesn’t even need to be because she’ll lowkey be so chill and nice with her kids. there’s a saying that kids like pretty girls, and shizuku is definitely that. she’ll probably let her kids play on her phone or something, and i lowkey don’t think she’ll care if they take her glasses or smth.

7. machi. she’s responsible, don’t get me wrong, but i think she’ll be a bit too strict on her kid because she has trouble expressing any positive emotions. but when her kid runs away crying, she’ll instantly feel SO BAD and try her best to comfort the kid. she might make them a doll or some clothes or something.

8. bonolenov. we don’t really know too much about him, but he seems to care a lot about the troupe, so then it’s probably natural to assume that he’ll be the same with his children, if he ever has any, of course. he’ll probably teach them about their clan and what the holes in his clan’s body symbolizes.

9. shalnark. now, he’s a friendly and “sweet” guy, but i have a strong feeling that he wouldn’t like kids very much. they’re probably too dumb and pure for his liking, and he probably feels sort of uncomfortable when it comes to kids. if he finds out that someone is going to have his kids, then 90% of the time, shalnark will pull a ging freecss. the other 10% of the time, he’ll try his best.

10. uvogin. he’s the type of guy to want his child to learn how to fight and learn Nen as soon as possible, even if he has to initiate them to unlock their aura nodes. he’d lowkey drink beer one day and offer his kids some beer too, forgetting that they’re underage. but he loves his kids dearly though and would do anything for them, so that’s good enough.

11. feitan. oh this guy HATES KIDS. he finds them annoying and loud and stupid, and he gets the ick even when he LOOKS at a kid. if he ever had a kid, (which he probably wouldn’t but just hypothetically speaking) he’d have less of a reaction considering how that kid literally comes from inside of him, but he’d begrudgingly raise them as best he can…if it’s a son. if it’s a daughter, then i feel like he’ll be much softer and (try to be) more gentle.

12. illumi. pretty self explanatory tbh. he’ll love his kids dearly, but he’ll express it in toxic and unhealthy ways (he’ll also put them through terrible Zoldyck training)

13. hisoka. do NOT let this man near kids, even his own.

———

kalluto, kortopi - how do you expect them to have children when they’re literally children themselves?

[joy-girl]

I LOVE SUN HAVEN

I LOVE SUN HAVEN

I LOVE SUN HAVEN

☀️ I LOVE SUN HAVEEEEEN 🐉

[captainsavre]

Maya and Carina || Station 19 - Season 7 ↳ 7x01 ‘This Woman’s Work’

[silenzahra]

I'm super late for this but I hope it's okay that I answer you now 🥰

Hehe, no worries, my friend! As you can see, your suggestion actually gave me the idea to write these headcanons, so I'm truly very grateful 🥰

I'm so glad you enjoyed the three of them!! Mario really is so so smitten with Peach, and of course she adores him back as well 🥰 I had so much fun writing them in matching outfits! They truly are two lovebirds ❤️🩷

HATTIE MY BELOVED. The doggy just HAD to appear because I absolutely LOVE playing with her (she's a girl for me hehe), and sometimes I even spent more time playing fetch with her than actually progressing in the game 😂😂 So you know, I think it was fitting that Mario ended up adopting her (and I'm a dog lover, which is something that played a big part in this decision as well 🤭).

Oh yes, Luigi believing there's another Luigi was just so silly and cute!! I didn't get to include it in my headcanons, but in case you haven't seen @bberetd's Odyssey piece, you'll see a reference to this, and it's absolutely adorable 🥹❤️💚

I couldn't agree more about the coat thing!!! I've always found it SO unfair that Mario and Peach got to have their own outfits while Luigi couldn't even have a coat 🤦‍♀️ (Not that Peach or Mario don't deserve, I'm just saying Luigi deserves it too!). Mario hugging him to keep him warm, it honestly reminded me of the time when I wrote my fic Keeping you warm and I loved it even more because of it 🥹 Oh... an idea??? It sounds evil but... count me interested 👀 I'm always down for some brotherly angst 😈

Hehe, I thought it'd be funny to have Luigi keep his bowtie even when he's wearing a poncho 😂😂 I love to imagine them both wearing matching Mexican outfits 😁😁 And the scene on the moon, that was simply my MOST favorite part to write!! The thought of them not wanting to be apart, and the lunar gravity helping them float even more 🥹🥹🥹 I simply couldn't be happier that you liked that part so much!!!

Aw... I have to admit I was VERY tempted to include my beloved Daisy here, but I wanted to stay true to the game. Still, I absolutely LOVED writing the Golden Trio parts, especially from Mario's perspective, as he get to hang out with his two favorite people in the world, and Luigi and Peach's friendship is one of my biggest weaknesses 🥹 I feel that I don't write these two being besties enough, so I guess this was a way of trying to fix that. And of course, Luigi is Mareach's #1 fan so he's more than happy to help them spend more time together 🥰 But both Mario and Peach love him so much (though differently) that they simply couldn't let him out. As you point out, it's simply impossible to say no to that face!! 🥹🥹

Hehehe, I absolutely LOVE all the lessons you've learned from these headcanons, my friend 🤭🤭 The first one especially made me laugh as I love to imagine Mario being all flustered when Peach is wearing her swimsuit 😂❤️🩷

Thank you soooo much for the reblog, your support, and for giving me the idea in the first place!! I really owe you a big one 🥰💖💖

🌜 Super Mario Odyssey: post-ending headcanons 🌛

Today marks seven years since the release of my FAVORITE 3D Mario game:

🌜 Super Mario Odyssey 🌛

This game really means EVERYTHING to me, so I wanted to make a little something to commemorate this date. I have to admit I didn't have any ideas at first, but then I remembered what @pepperycar commented on this post... and was suddenly inspired 🤭 Thank you so much, my friend! I owe you this one 💖

So, here I bring you a few ideas that I had on what could have happened after the end of Super Mario Odyssey. There will be Mareach, brotherly love, and SPOILERS, so if you haven't finished this game yet: beware!! ⚠

(And please go play it because it's AWESOME.)

@vulpixfairy1985 @bberetd @megamagimugi @peaches2217 @keakruiser

@itsavee4117 @roscolate @smokszyvverstar @wahooitsamee @kelbreyworshipper I thought perhaps you might be interested, so I hope it's okay that I tag you 🥰 Of course, no worries if you're not! Feel free to ignore this post and please forgive me for bothering you 😅

Also, I took a bit of inspo from this adorable post that I remember reblogging from my old account. Please have a look if you haven't yet because it's absolutely CUTE 🥹

Without further ado... Let's-a go! ❤️

👑 Peach's wardrobe 👑

Princess Peach has a large and varied wardrobe. So far, Mario only remembers seeing her wearing her signature pink dresses, her favorite. She has several that are very similar to each other, with only a few small differences between them, such as puffed sleeves that her summer dress does not have, or an older design in which almost the entire skirt is a darker shade of pink. Peach always appears before him and his subjects wearing one of these outfits as pink is her favorite color, and one that, in Mario's opinion, suits her very well.

Recently, however, Mario has found that his beloved princess has a wide variety of outfits and has decided to start wearing them to visit the various kingdoms that Bowser has taken her to during her kidnapping, now that she finally has the freedom to choose where, when, and with whom to go.

And Mario loves to dress to match her.

The first time they did it, Mario ran into Peach and her friend Tiara almost by accident as she, as brave as ever, explored the lonely Forgotten Isle in an outfit worthy of Indiana Jones himself. Shorts, a backpack on her back, boots prepared for the earthy soil of the place... and her hair in a bun that was hidden under her explorer's cap.

Mario didn't take half a second to run back to his Odyssey ship and put on his own explorer's outfit to join her and continue exploring the island together.

When he met her in New Donk City, Peach was wearing one of Mario's favorite outfits of all the ones he had seen her in so far: a long pink flying skirt that, unlike her dresses, left her feet exposed; a gorgeous white blouse with a scarf around her neck, in a pastel pink shade that matched her pristine skin; and a wide hat over her abundant blonde hair. She looked beautiful and very comfortable, and the best part: she loved the black suit with matching fedora that Mario put on to go with Peach’s outfit. She told him he looked very elegant, and Mario thought his smile would overflow on both sides of his face since his cheeks hurt so much.

To him, on the other hand, the one who looked tremendously stylish and graceful was Peach when he met her in Bonneton. Her attire was dark, composed of a grayish coat, black stockings and gloves of the same color, which she combined with a beret that adorned her long hair. Mario kept watching her for a while, unable to help it, and he did the same thing when he met her in Shiveria, since the black and gold of her figure stood out among so much blinding white.

On that occasion, Mario felt that he’d never measure up to her with his orange, quilted coat, as opposed to Bonneton, where he was able to look at least a bit elegant with his black tuxedo, his red bow tie and a top hat that gave him the look of a magician. Or, at least, that's what she told him, while letting out a giggle that made Mario think of the softest and sweetest crystal bells.

Another one of his favorite outfits for the princess was her farmer attire, which was the one she chose to wear to visit the Luncheon Kingdom. Mario wasn’t surprised to find her picking turnips to help the locals prepare their famous soup, as it wasn’t the first time he’d seen her pulling vegetables from the ground. When she saw him dressed in his chef's outfit, she immediately applauded him and prepared to hand over the vegetables to him, thus naming him the official in charge of preparing the delicious best dish of the kingdom.

As for the last three outfits the princess has worn, Mario is unable to choose, as all three have provoked various sensations in him that made him wish he could stare at her forever, without having any other worries or mission to carry out. The Yukata with the fire flower pattern was, without a shadow of a doubt, one of them, a beautiful and lovely vision that gave him back some vitality and joy when he ran into Peach in Bowser's Kingdom. He, as bold as brass, put on his samurai outfit, ready to defend her from any evil, and she, always so demure, covered her face with her hand-held fan to hide a soft giggle. Still, watching her hair pulled back in a ponytail and the Boo-shaped buckle adorning her head, Mario knew he’d never measure up to her.

And he felt the same way when, while strolling along Bubblaine Beach and enjoying the coolness of the water with his doggy friend, he found her there, wearing that pretty white sarong adorned with pink power moons, the sunglasses on her blonde head... and that bikini that exposed more porcelain skin than Mario had ever seen. He felt completely ridiculous in his red swimsuit with white polka dots and wanted to sink to the depths of the crystal-clear waters of the kingdom just to prevent her from seeing him like that.

However, that couldn't overcome how stupid and embarrassed Mario felt when, just after rescuing her from Bowser's clutches, he got caught up in an absurd competition with the king of the Koopas to try to get Peach to agree to marry him. They may have both been wearing the perfect outfits, Peach in her beautiful white dress that made her look like an angel and him in his tuxedo of the same color and matching hat.

But Mario realized too late that this was not the right moment.

Still, he is content to have had the opportunity, albeit brief, to stand next to Peach while they both wore what would possibly be their wedding outfits. Mario knows that this will never happen again, that it’ll never come true, because the idea of trying to propose again wouldn’t even cross his mind. It took him a long time to forgive himself for his huge blunder, even though it took Peach only a few minutes to do so, and he’d never be able to be at peace with himself if he bothered her again.

Peach's friendship is very precious to Mario. He loves to meet her on his travels and share a few moments with her, full of fun and trust, which he wishes he could extend in time forever. In addition, on more than one occasion, Peach has asked him to accompany her to Lake Lemonade to make a new dress, and sometimes she has also invited Toad and Luigi. The people there are experts in haute couture, and Mario is always spellbound as he watches Peach pose for the seamstresses, who, in a matter of minutes, are able to create a new dress for her, each one more beautiful than the last.

And, on each occasion, Peach always turns on herself so that the dress can be appreciated in all its splendor, making her look more dazzling than a star and more radiant than the sun itself.

🎈 Balloon Brothers🎈

Shortly after he saved Peach, Mario made two decisions when he continued to travel the kingdoms on his Odyssey ship. The first one was to adopt his loyal doggy friend, the clever Shiba that has helped him find so many power moons during his adventure. He named her Hattie, as she adores wearing a hat on her head no matter where they travel to, and also because her favorite game is chasing after Mario's cap and bring it back to him.

And the second one, as soon as he ran into Luigi for the first time, was that he'd always play Balloon World with him.

Every world he travels to, whatever his purpose or the mission that takes him there, Mario always has time for his little brother and loves to play Balloon World with him. He adores seeing his sibling so cheerful and excited, and the way he claps and cheers him on always causes Mario’s unstoppable energy to soar and his heart to melt with tenderness.

In Fossil Falls, Luigi was so scared of the T-Rex that organizing the game for Mario served as a distraction and a way for him to release some stress, something Mario was extremely relieved about. In Forgotten Isle, the same bird that had captured Cappy was threatening to pop the balloons that kept Luigi in the air and that were an essential part of his outfit as the game organizer, which only motivated Mario to chase the darned bird with the help of his loyal Hattie, until, at last, and to the relief of both brothers and Cappy, he managed to scare it away.

However, as soon as Mario ran into Luigi in the Snow Kingdom, shivering with cold in his shirtsleeves, but still smiling at his brother and inviting him to play while hugging himself, Mario did not hesitate for a moment: he hurried to get rid of his orange coat and, ignoring Luigi's faint protests, threw it over his twin, taking care not to accidentally pop his balloons. Despite his initial reluctance, Luigi couldn't help but close his eyes as he snuggled into the garment, trying to get warm, and Mario, his heart shrinking, hugged him with all his might as he gently rubbed his arms and back. Luigi cuddled up to him and Mario stroked his hair gently, his mind flooded with memories of when they were both little and Luigi would run to hide in his bed because he thought there was a monster under his bed. Sighing as he held his sibling in his arms, trying to shield him from the cold and icy drafts, Mario didn't agree to play until after he had taken Luigi inside his ship to wrap him in a blanket and offer him a hot drink to warm up inside.

Nevertheless, the opposite thing happened in Tostarena: Luigi, always determined to stay true to his original outfit as the game's creator, was too warm for the scorching desert heat. Before playing Balloon World, Mario decided that his little brother needed a change to feel more comfortable. So he grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into the shop. Luigi had to bend down so that his balloons could go in with him, and Mario immediately tried to convince him to, like him, put on a typical costume of the land, poncho and wide hat included, to feel comfier while they played there. His twin resisted a little, always wanting to maintain the elegance a game show host should always display, but when Mario assured him that he could keep his green bow tie, Luigi finally gave in. And, seeing them both in matching outfits, Mario also managed to convince his brother to play Balloon World together, to which Luigi agreed only after gifting him one of his balloons for Mario to wear on his wrist.

And they've done it many more times since then: in Peronza Plaza, in Bonneton, in New Donk City... even on the Moon! Also, whenever they play in the Mushroom Kingdom, the Toads join them and Luigi ends up giving them as many balloons as possible so they can have fun playing on their own, being the kind-hearted person he is.

Of course, Mario is well aware that his sibling knows the locations of the balloons, being the organizer of Balloon World, but he equally enjoys touring the various worlds with his little brother by the hand, dragging him along while Luigi floats after him and simply lets himself go. Mario’s heart sings for joy with every laugh that escapes his twin’s throat, especially when Hattie also joins the fun and runs with them in search for the balloon, only to pop it as soon as they do. Mario also loves the way Luigi guides him, or often misleads him, to make his search for the balloon easier or more complicated. Mario likes to be challenged by the game and Luigi knows it, so he appreciates it when his brother tries to trick him to divert him from his initial goal. This lengthens the game, as well as the time the brothers spend together, thus increasing the fun.

However, when it's time to say goodbye, Mario can read in his brother's face that he’s just as reluctant to part with him as Mario himself. His complicated missions through the kingdoms and, also, the longing to be reunited with Peach and spend some time with her as well have caused Mario to have to leave his brother's side without really wanting to, his soul screaming in the depths of his being that he should not do so, that he should turn back and return to Luigi's side.

When the same thing happens to him in the Moon Kingdom, Mario finally stops before entering his ship and turns on his heels. He sees Luigi raise his head, confused to see him turn around, and the surprise on his face only grows when Mario starts running towards him, although a little slower than he’d like due to the moon's gravity. A smile breaks out on Mario's face as he speeds up as fast as he can, and he stretches out his arms as he approaches his little brother. Luigi barely has time to open his arms as well before Mario pounces on him.

Luigi's gasp causes Mario to burst out laughing as he spins around with his brother in his arms, holding him tightly. It takes him a few seconds to realize that both of them are now floating in the air, propelled not only by Luigi's balloons, but also by the lack of gravity prevailing on the moon. His sibling clings to him as he laughs shyly, and Mario pulls away from him a second before his feet touch down again.

Holding Luigi's hands tightly and energetically, Mario offers him to board his Odyssey ship and accompany him on his travels, so that they can continue playing Balloon World together as his adventure progresses. And, perhaps, Luigi could also help him during their missions, just like in the old days, when they visited faraway realms, such as Pi’illo Island or the Beanbean Kingdom, and even became partners in time.

As he speaks, Mario is very aware that his eyes are shining, full of excitement. His whole face must be, in fact, as euphoria bubbles up inside him like a river of unstoppable lava. He’s unable to keep completely still, so he inadvertently shakes his hands and, with them, those of his brother, as he explains his idea to him. And his enthusiasm undoubtedly rubs off on his twin, as Mario can read in Luigi's blue eyes, identical to his own, which are filling with a special glow that can only mean he shares Mario's eagerness.

And so it was that the brothers began to travel together.

✨ The Golden Trio ✨

In some of their first trips together, when the brothers are about to play Balloon World, Peach meets them and becomes a spectator of their games. Luigi welcomes her with open arms and quickly explains to her what Mario has to do, and while his brother is searching, Luigi reveals in whispers to the princess where the balloon his twin is looking for is hidden.

Although, at first, Mario is a little embarrassed that Peach is going to watch him while he searches, he quickly decides that he must do everything he can to impress her, so he puts more effort into finding the balloon quickly and on his own, despite Hattie's attempts to help him. Whenever he succeeds, Luigi praises him enthusiastically and gives him a big hug, which Mario reciprocates joyfully and heartily. Peach, after applauding him a little more demurely, leans over to place a kiss on his nose, causing Mario's whole face to light up until it looks redder than his shirt. This always happens under the watchful eye of Luigi, who doesn't miss the chance to give his sibling a playful nudge while trying to silence his giggles, causing Mario's blush to increase.

However, the third time Peach meets the brothers, Luigi has the idea of inviting her to participate in the game, which he eagerly puts to her. Both she and Mario are delighted, and Luigi immediately rearranges the game so that Mario and Peach can play in competition against each other.

Of course, respect and friendship prevail in the game. Mario continues to play as usual, but Peach often beats him, as she’s quick and smart, and he can only admire her more and more every time this happens. In fact, he’d say that he enjoys the occasions when the princess beats him the most, as he loves to see her so happy and enjoying herself when playing with him. Needless to say, even though Luigi is a most enthusiastic audience, Mario is the one who always applauds Peach the most, which makes her blush, something that doesn't happen to her when she thanks Luigi's compliments.

When the game is preparing to take place for the fifth time since Mario and Peach started playing together, Mario can't help but notice the way his brother is wringing his hands and fiddling with his fingers as he watches them. The game is about to begin, but he can't take his eyes off Luigi. He can read his face like an open book, something that has happened practically since they were born... and he doesn't like what he sees.

It's not that Luigi is sad. He's happy to be with them and eager to see them play Balloon World again. He's ready to cheer them both on and shower them with praise, as always, for, after all, his little brother is one of the sweetest and gentlest people he knows.

However, Mario can see in his gestures, in the way he bites his lower lip, in the way he fiddles with his own hands, in the way his eyes sparkle, that Luigi misses being able to join the game despite knowing the location of the balloons beforehand.

So even though Luigi gives the start command just a second later, Mario doesn't move.

And it pleases him greatly to realize that Peach, next to him, hasn't moved either.

When he turns his face towards her, Peach does the same. Mario barely needs a few seconds to realize that the princess, always as perceptive and as concerned about Luigi as he is, almost as if she were some sort of big sister to him, has also noticed the longing that shines in his little brother's eyes.

The two hold each other's gaze for a moment before smiling determinedly and giving one another a mutual nod. In unison, the two turn to Luigi, who looks from one to the other, his face the spitting image of bewilderment. As he and Peach start walking towards the game organizer, Mario can't help but let out a laugh in anticipation of what's about to happen, and he hears Peach let out a small giggle next to him that only makes his heart swell.

Decisively, they both hold Luigi, each with one hand, and Mario puts his other arm around Luigi's shoulders while Peach wraps her free arm around the younger plumber’s back. Luigi doesn't understand anything, but he doesn't resist, since, of course, he trusts them completely. Peach and Mario start walking while dragging him along, and the princess proclaims that, by royal order, Luigi must play Balloon World with them. This finally gets Luigi to relax and even laugh, and Mario feels his little brother squeeze his hand as he and the princess laugh together.

For a moment, Mario simply watches them. His heart fills with joy whenever he sees them getting along so well. He loves that Luigi has found in Peach a friend he can trust and be himself with, and he loves that the princess, in each of their interactions, shows that she truly cares about Luigi's well-being and wants only the best for him.

And he just loves them both so much that his heart could burst.

He couldn’t live without either of them.

When the game concludes, shortly before the brothers return to the Odyssey ship, Mario summons the courage to offer Peach to join them. That way, the three of them could travel together, keep each other company and help one another in their adventures, and they’ll always have the chance to play Balloon World together.

As he speaks, however, it occurs to Mario that perhaps he should have consulted Luigi before inviting Peach, so he throws a sidelong glance at his brother to try to apologize to him without words.

But Luigi, ever so sweet and kind, ever the man with the purest heart, is nodding eagerly as he hears his brother speak, and as soon as Mario concludes, Luigi turns to Peach and takes her hands while expressing how much he’d love for her to join them. Mario can't and won't hold back the look of intense love and adoration he gives his twin as he talks to the princess. Who, of course, gladly accepts.

Thus, Mario, Luigi and Peach, accompanied by the inseparable and always loyal Hattie, Cappy and Tiara, embark on the Odyssey to a new world. And, as they travel, the three of them look out the window, Mario and Luigi with their hands on the glass and looking at the clouds with excitement, and the princess, with a hand resting on the shoulder of each of the brothers as she joins in their excitement at the sight they are contemplating.

Their adventure has only just begun.

[sainz100]

Max & Daniel throwback to 2018 | Futsal in São Paulo | x

[anas-tasiaa]

Tomato boys as kids! ❤️

[shuploc]

If any of you guys ever grab a print of mine and get it signed, please please please do tag me in your post or message me a pic of it, I would absolutely love to see it! 😭❤️

[milla-frenchy]

I started to read this series very recently, and in some ways I regret it, because receiving the notification of a new chapter, here or on ao3, and settling comfortably on my couch to read it is a feeling that I love so much 😍😍😍 (yes, even when it was angsty af 😅)

I read this chapter when it came out, but I needed to process it, to let the feelings and sensations do their job, and I thought about it, and them, often. What a journey!! I'm gonna miss them so much 🥹🥹❤️

She didn't say anything, just stared at him, then hugged her knees closer to her chest. He had expected something like this, but not to this degree, he had not fully prepared himself for how harrowing it would be to see her like this.

ughhhh my heart. It hurts. But I feel her... of course I do 💔

He plated the food— scrambled eggs, seared steak, roasted potatoes exactly the way he used to make them for her before— and carefully approached her, his heart aching in his chest when those glossy, faded eyes drifted up to him.

Oh my god. Each time a moment related to "before" is mentionned, my heart melts

He stood when she was naked before him, shivering, looking up at him with those hollow eyes that made him feel like his chest was empty. He quickly scanned her, each inch of her exposed skin, searching for any other marks, any other obvious injuries, he could see none, and he worked to ignore the blood flowing to his cock as he lifted her back up and gently placed her in the bath, taking a seat on the ledge.

Oh wow. I love how much what happened (Caleb's death, Lily's feelings) has changed Joel.

He worked soap into his hands, then washed her hair, gathering water in his palms to rinse the suds out so that she wouldn't have to lean her head back into the bath. He washed her neck, her back, her shoulders, his finger tracing the leaves and petals of her tattoo, so soft skin against his murderous palms. He gathered her hands in his and scrubbed the dirt from her palms, from her nails, his thumb lingering on that empty ring finger on her left hand, that spot he was supposed to claim fifteen years ago, that sapphire ring that reminded him of her eyes. It was probably still in his bedside drawer in Texas, if no one had riffled through his home in search of old-world valuables.

This is so delicate and sweet and.... then, the ring. The mention of it, of the bedside drawer, is so heartbreaking

He replaced the towel with the t-shirt he'd brought, tugging it over her head, helping her put her arms into the sleeves. He hadn't seen her in his clothes in so long, a lifetime, and the vision of her drowning in the thing, nipples peaked against the fabric, the hem draping down to her mid-thigh, nearly made him choke it was so familiar, so missed. He helped her into her panties, then. Crouching down in front of her, helping her keep her balance as she stepped into them. And then he picked her up, again, by her waist this time, wrapping one arm around her waist, the other under her butt, while her legs wrapped weakly around his hips, her head dropping to his chest in a motion that made his heart pinch and ache. "I got you," he whispered into the damp crown of her head. "You're safe, baby, I got you." And she reacted to that, not in words, but by clutching the front of his shirt, burying her face further into his chest.

Here are I am, re reading this chapter to rb it, and I'm crying. He's got her. He's here for her. omg I'm such a mess and thank you so much for this series!!! 🫶

He hadn't taken care of someone like this, hadn't taken care of her like this in so long. And it felt good, it felt right, it settled something inside of him that he hadn't even realized had been broken and bouncing around in his gut for too long, since the moment she got on that plane to California. This, this was his purpose, what he was made to do, made to be, her safety, her protector, how ignorant and deranged of him for trying to shove her away when this was where they both had always meant to end up. Fifteen years ago, she was ripped from him, and somehow, against all odds, in the end times, she was back.

🥹🥹🥹

It was almost like she couldn't hear him, like she had drifted off to somewhere else entirely as shivers racked through her spine, breaths coming out of her in fast, hurried spurts against his chest. "Look at me, Lily," he urged, gently gathering her face from his chest, cupping it in his palms, lifting her head so she could see him. Those bright blue eyes had gone a little wild, painted with fear, and the sight made him feel like he might drop to his knees. "I'm not goin' anywhere," he said sternly, speaking about more than just his physical presence. He wasn't going to push her out again, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how terrifying it was. She was frantically searching his face, still clinging onto his shirt. "Alright," he breathed out, standing up with her, circling her waist with his arm to keep her locked against him as he walked into the kitchen and grabbed the VHS from the bag, then back into the living room, where he sat down with a grunt in front of the television, keeping her curled up against him

And this. She can't let him go, she needs to feel him, to be against him and omg I'm such a mess, re reading this 😅😭 He doesn't push her out, he stands up with her. It's so beautiful

She huffed, rolling her eyes at him, letting her gaze drift back to the screen. And even though it wasn't much, even though she was still silent, that felt like a break, a flash of Lily inside her terrified, mute exterior.

Oh my heart!! It reminded me of the first chapters 🥹🥹

"Remember," he started cautiously, the words clawing their way out of him, "Sarah's Jeff Goldblum phase." Lily's head snapped toward him, her eyes a little wide as they searched his face. Joel swallowed hard, "Couldn't get her to watch anything else for months." Speaking to her about Sarah was harder than it was with Ellie, with Tommy, with anyone else. But he owed her this, he needed this. No one had loved Sarah as much as he had, except Lily. Her mom.

jfc I have no words, this is perfection

"You smiled. I missed your dimple." Something cold and hard, something he didn't know had been caging his heart in, melted at that, while his stomach twisted into a knot. She'd been back for months and he hadn't smiled at her? That couldn't be right.

Poor Joel. And poor Lily. Both traumatised, it breaks my heart

He gently took her wrist in his hand, so her soft, little fingers splayed out across his cheek, then he leaned into her palm, his eyes fluttering closed. God, he missed her, missed this, missed how easy it was to be with her when he just gave in, when he just was. How many months had he wasted? Too many, when he was already living on borrowed time, when he was already pushing off his damnation, his fall into the burning pit he was surely condemned to. "Mmm," he purred, like a big, wild cat into her palm. Her touch made him weak. But he could be weak for her, he'd always been weak for her. He turned his face into her hand and kissed her palm, then gently released her wrist, his eyes fluttering open to find her staring at him, disbelief etched onto her pretty face.

🥹🥹🥹

But she needed to see his face, needed to see those eyes while they still held sunlight, before they went black and cold again, before she woke up alone, either from the fading of her delusion, or from his departure.

Damn. Damn... this is beautiful and heartbreaking. Lily 🥺🥺

For the first time since she made it to Jackson, Joel looked like Joel, older now, more wrinkles around his eyes, that deep set between his brows, gray threaded through his curls. But he looked like Joel, her Joel. And she would have cried, if she had any tears left, if she wasn't still terrified that this— that he— could disappear before her in the blink of an eye.

This is so, so good. What a brilliant chapter 🙏🤌🤌🤌

Thank you so much for all the emotions and feelings. That's what I'm looking for in fics, and I have no words to express how perfectly you do it ❤️❤️

Nights Like This One: XXIV.

"For the first time since she made it to Jackson, Joel looked like Joel, older now, more wrinkles around his eyes, that deep set between his brows, gray threaded through his curls. But he looked like Joel, her Joel. And she would have cried, if she had any tears left, if she wasn't still terrified that this— that he— could disappear before her in the blink of an eye."

paring: joel miller x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 4.3k a.n. what a wild ride. i can't believe this fic is almost over. i first drafted the outline on christmas eve in 2023. i had covid and i was miserable, sitting with a mask on in my parent's living room. a couple weeks prior, the laundry room at my own house had flooded, and i remembered wishing, in my sick stupor, that joel miller could come fix my fucking drain for me. so, sitting on my mother's couch (not so unlike lily sitting on her mother's ratty armchair) i dreamt up a fic where joel miller was hired to renovate a woman's home. i'd been reading pablo neruda earlier in the day (not unusual, he truly is a poetic genius) and these two lines from Tonight I Can Write kept rattling around in my head: "Through nights like this one I held her in my arms. I kissed her again and again under the endless sky. // Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms, my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her." and I thought about how beautiful it would be to incorporate those lines, to have them be the cornerstones to the two parts of this story. I've been living with these characters screaming in my head for almost an entire year. I love them and this story so dearly. I know fanfiction gets a terrible reputation, i know that people who don't read it (even some that do) don't truly understand what an art it can be. and sometimes i get sad, or angry with myself for focusing so much of my time (and my $120k creative writing degree) on writing things i can never publish. but i really do love doing this. it brings me so much joy and it makes me happier than i can express when it makes you all feel something too. my dream, since i was ten years old, was to write something that other people loved, that made them happy, made them sad, made them feel something. and i always thought that would be a book, hoped it would be, and maybe that's still in the cards someday, but for now, i'll take this. thank you so very much for reading. there are two chapters left after this (maybe three if i decided to break the next one in two). my sole focus after this will be the human condition, then i have two more fics in very early stages that i'm excited to get out (eventually). happy (actually happy this time) reading <3

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