#but in here the ring is meant to be more of a sentimental item that reminds both parties

[kwamiwayzz]

While Jecka and Nicole would think that marriage sucks, they'd probably end up getting court married for the benefits. They've been together for awhile. And they do tolerate/care/love(?) each other enough after all the years of dealing with each other's bs.

So, they end up going to the courthouse on a random Wednesday, sign the papers, and everything is official. Great!

Now, Nicole can be under Jecka's health insurance and this also gives Jecka a sigh of relief that she can stay by Nicole's side in the hospital if she were to ever try to off herself again. Unfortunately, simply telling gross and sleazy men that they're married doesn't really keep them away. They don't see a ring, so in their minds, that means Jecka and Nicole aren't taken.

Okay, easy fix.

All Nicole needs to do is buy two rings from some shitty Claire's store on 5th Avenue or whatever to get these guys off their backs. But Jecka protests against it. Not because she's against the idea of wearing fake rings to ward off sleazy men, but because it's at fucking Claire's of all places. She reminds Nicole to have some decorum. They end up going to some random jeweler in the mall to get rings that could appear legit. Nicole just asks for a simple accent ring, while Jecka gets something that's more noticeable but not too gaudy.

They get the rings, and only wear them when they're out in public. When they're home, the ring comes off. Men will still try to pursue either one of them when they're just minding their own business, but it wards off a good chunk of them. As long as they see that ring, these men will assume that either Jecka or Nicole are taken by men. Because, hey! Who gives a fuck about what a woman's opinion?

Either way, it works for the most part. But over time, one of them starts to forget to take their fake wedding ring when they're back home. That little $30-50 accessory starts to mean just a bit more--even if neither party wants to admit it.

After some time, Jecka accidentally loses her's, and she's thinking, damn she has to deal with a higher percentage of men coming onto her again. It's actually perfect timing though, because Nicole had an actual diamond one ready to gift to Jecka.

Nicole says it's no big deal, and that it doesn't mean too much. But hey? The diamond ring will at least tell most other men trying to come onto her that they aren't shit if her "husband" can get her a nice looking ring that makes her look like a millionaire's wife.

Jecka thinks that Nicole stole it at the mall and decided to give it to her. Except she doesn't really give a shit if Nicole did. Because wow, next to getting the counselor away from her (so that Jecka could smoke by herself) in high school, this was probably the second nicest thing anyone has ever done for her.

Thing is, Nicole won't admit to Jecka that she went out of her way to save up enough money (from various odd jobs) to get that ring for her. Maybe she'll tell her. Maybe she won't.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 11) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 4.0k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Background Relationships; Medical Appointments; Suggestive Comments; Discussion of Mental Health (Depression, Anxiety, Post-Partum); Discussions of Goose and Carole; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You and Jake move in together and attend your twenty-week appointment.

Series Master List

Master List

A week and a half later, you were moving into Jake’s apartment officially. The two of you, with some help from Phoenix and Coyote, had already moved all of the smaller items out of your apartment. Bradley and Mav also stopped by—when Jake wasn’t there—to take some of the more sentimental items to hold onto for you in their bigger homes. 

So, all that was left were a few pieces of furniture. You sold some of your furniture but decided to either keep or store or give away the other pieces. And that meant that someone had to drag it down the stairs and shove it into the back of Jake’s truck or the trailer that Maverick brought. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Jake stated, watching as you rearranged the chairs around the table. 

“What?”

“You’re not carrying anything. It’s all heavy and we’re not risking you hurting yourself,” Jake insisted, walking over to you. “Just relax.”

“I think I can drag a chair a few inches,” you stated, shooting Jake a playful look. “But I won’t carry anything heavy. Promise.”

“Thank you,” Jake replied softly. “How’re they today?”

“I think I’m feeling flutters, but I don’t really know. I only seem to feel them when I’m trying to sleep, so I don’t know if I’m imaging them.”

Your twenty-week appointment was about a week away and both of you were a bit anxious about it. Of course, every first-time parent worried about the worst case-scenario at that appointment. That they were going to get some kind of news that would change the little fairytale that they built up in their mind. 

“Only when you’re trying to sleep?”

“Yeah, I think so. Why?” 

“It’s like they’re teasing you. Or trying to stress you out more.” 

“They’re stubborn, that’s all.”

“They get it from both sides,” Jake replied, brushing his fingers down your bump. 

“Hopefully, they’re not too stubborn coming out,” you stated, glancing down at your bump as Jake took a step closer to you. Smiling up at him, you let out a chuckle. “What?”

“I’m just thinking about all the gas I’ll save when I don’t have to drive over here anymore," he explained, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“The gas, of course,” you hummed. 

You let out a louder giggle as Jake leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek and then down your neck. The two of you, since your kiss in the kitchen, had gotten a lot more comfortable and handsy with each other over the next few days. You hadn’t taken it all the way yet, both of you were still cautious about pushing too hard too fast, but you seemed to be moving in that direction. It was starting to remind you of how the two of you were before you found out that you were pregnant. 

Jake pressed a lingering kiss to your lips as his strong arms pulled you closer. And as you tangled your hand in his hair, returning the kiss, you heard the door to your apartment open. You turned your head and reflexively pushed Jake off of you when you saw Maverick standing there. 

“Hey, Mav,” you greeted awkwardly, running a hand through your hair. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course. Though you looked as if you weren’t expecting company,” Maverick quipped, working on his key ring. 

“I can explain,” Jake stated, causing Maverick to shake his head. 

“You already got her pregnant, Jake. There’s not much left to explain beyond that.”

“Mav,” you sighed, feeling like a teenager again. 

“Trailer’s parked out front. I didn’t know how you wanted to divide things up. Penny said that she would bring lunch over to your new apartment. And Bradley told me that he was leaving a couple minutes ago.”

“Great,” Jake replied dryly. 

“There's not too much left at least,” you stated, trying to perk Jake up. “But I have to give the key back to my landlord, Mav.”

Maverick pulled your spare key off of his chain and handed it over to you before turning to Jake. The two of them started to carry stuff downstairs to the trailer or Jake’s truck while you started to sweep up and do your final round of cleaning so that your landlord didn’t charge you extra. 

Jake and Maverick were out by the trailer, sliding your dresser into the back when Rooster walked over with his keys in hand. Leaning on the trailer wall, Rooster and Jake shared a glare before Bradley turned to Maverick. 

“Emma’s going to meet us there with Penny. I’ll text her when we’re finished up here.”

“We’ve still got a few trips left before that,” Maverick reported, walking over to Bradley. “We’re going to do the couch next.”

Bradley nodded and turned to head inside with Mav, leaving Jake to walk by himself. Jake wasn’t too perturbed. He was expecting the treatment from Bradley and the fact that Maverick hadn’t pushed him down the stairs after seeing the two of you together felt like a small victory. 

You were wiping down the counters when they returned to your apartment. You moved to greet your brother before the three of them walked over to your couch. You stood a bit nervously by the door, holding it open for them. 

“Please don’t hurt yourselves,” you told them as they started to carry it out. 

“We’ll be fine,” Jake assured you as he passed by. 

You watched them go before shutting the door. Moving over to the window, you sat down and watched for them. It was only three floors, but you knew that you wouldn’t be able to focus until the three of them emerged together. You weren’t so worried that the couch would be too heavy or anything like that. You were more concerned that they would use it to hurt each other. 

Jake and Bradley carried the ends of the couch while Maverick stood in the middle. Bradley stood on the lower set of stairs, simply because Jake wasn’t stupid and refused to step down first. Otherwise, he wasn’t confident that he would make it down to the bottom of the stairs. Not without a crack in the back of his head. Again, he wasn’t stupid. 

“Lift it up more,” Bradley grunted as they tried to turn one of the last corners. 

“I am,” Jake huffed back at him. 

“I wouldn’t have asked if you just did it,” Bradley snapped at Jake.

“Just lift, both of you,” Maverick stated firmly, shooting them both a look. 

They managed to walk around the corner with the couch and down the last set of stairs before setting the couch down on the floor to catch their breath and relieve their muscles. Bradley leaned on the couch, glaring over at Jake as Jake stretched his arms casually. Maverick was silent, but he was clearly watching them. 

“So, why are we moving my sister into your tiny apartment again, Hangman?” 

“Her lease is up and we’re having a baby together,” Hangman stated, like Rooster was as dumb as a brick. 

“And you couldn’t even get an apartment with enough room for a crib in it?” 

“Bradley,” Maverick stated, shooting him a look.  

“There’s enough room for a crib,” Jake snapped back at Bradley. “We already mapped it out. We wrote down the exact dimensions that we need. And even if we didn’t, it’s none of your fucking business, Rooster.” 

“Jake,” Maverick sighed, turning to the annoyed aviator. 

“It is my business when it involves my sister and my niece or nephew.” Bradley straightened up, staring Jake down. “She told me that you were looking at houses, but yet she said that she hasn’t been to any house showings. Why is that?” 

“None of your fucking business, Rooster.” 

“It’s not? Because it sounds like you’re selling a fantasy to my sister that you’re never actually going to deliver.” 

“That’s enough,” Maverick replied to both of them. 

“You would want your sister to just move into the first house that we found and could close on?” Jake stated, staring Bradley down. “We’re looking. But there’s other things that are more pressing that we have to deal with. But again, it’s none of your fucking business.” 

“And does she know that? Have you told her that?” 

“Alright, pick up your ends, let’s get it put into the trailer,” Maverick snapped, effectively ending the argument. 

You watched from above as Jake, Bradley, and Maverick walked out to the trailer with the couch. Letting out a breath of relief, you got up and turned to clean once again. There was just the tables, chairs, and another small dresser left, which Jake, Bradley, and Maverick carried down in three more trips. 

When it was all cleaned up, you took a moment to walk through the empty rooms, reminiscing about the memories that the place brought you. It was a sanctuary for you for a time. An escape, really. But it was an apartment for a version of you that was quickly disappearing and in a few short months would be gone completely.

You had grown out of it. And it was time to move on. 

“You alright?” Jake asked softly, standing at the threshold of the apartment.

“Yeah,” you replied, turning to him with a small smile. “I’m okay.” 

Picking up the keys, you walked over to Jake, pressed a kiss to his lips, and headed out. And into the new phase of your life. 

~~~~~

You and Jake arrived at your shared apartment first, since Maverick and Bradley were dropping off some stuff at their respective houses first. Penny was waiting for you in the parking lot and Jake assured you that he would be fine carrying everything himself. 

“So, how’d moving out go?” Penny asked you as you walked up the stairs. Your now shared apartment was on the third floor, so it was one less set of stairs than your previous apartment. “Pete gave me a brief overview.” 

“He probably knows better than me. He was the one who was dealing with them,” you sighed, pulling out your new set of keys. “I just want them to be able to coexist. They don’t have to like each other. Hell, they don’t even need to speak to each other. I just need them to be able to sit in the same room and not try to kill each other.” 

“They’re both stubborn and set in their ways,” Penny replied, shaking her head. “Have you talked to Emma about Bradley?” 

“Yeah, but there’s only so much she can do. Ever since Mom died, he’s always felt the need to be so protective over me. And I appreciated it sometimes but now I don’t need it now. I just want him to be happy for me. For us, me and Jake.” 

“He will. Maybe he just needs to see Jake supporting you—not that he isn’t already—for that to start to happen.” 

“He better get over it by the time I have this baby or I swear,” you muttered, moving to unlock your front door. You turned to Penny with less annoyance in your features. “You know, I really want to make Bradley and Emma the baby’s godparents. And the baby’s guardians if something were to happen to the both of us and—” 

“—Don’t talk like that,” Penny interrupted you, grabbing your shoulders. 

“Penny,” you sighed as the door shut behind her, “I’m not living in some delusion where I don’t think that bad things can happen. And I want it all written down and signed and everything before I give birth or just in case Jake gets dragged away.” Placing a hand on your bump, you looked down. “I want to be prepared.” 

“Hey, today is a happy occasion. You can focus on that stuff at another time. Right now, just enjoy the fact that everyone is healthy and that you’re moving forward in your relationship with Jake, okay?” You nodded slowly and Penny pulled you in for a tight motherly hug. “And that’s why I got you a gift.” 

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Penny.” 

“I know, but I saw it and just thought of you,” Penny replied, pulling away and reaching into the bag that she brought. 

“And you definitely didn’t need to wrap it,” you mused, taking the box from her hand. 

Gently tearing at the wrapping paper, you glanced up when the door opened and Jake walked in, carrying your nightstand and dragging a suitcase behind him. You shot him a smile as he glanced curiously down at the gift in your hands. 

“What’s that?” 

“Just a small gift,” Penny insisted, smiling kindly. 

You tore away the rest of the wrapping paper and pulled out a rectangular plaque. You were a bit confused when you noted the three raised squares, but when you read the painted letters above them, it all clicked.

The message of ‘Daddy’ + ‘Mommy’ = ‘Baby’ was so simple, yet so emotionally overwhelming.  

“You’re supposed to put your handprints here,” Penny explained, pointing at the squares. “Jake can put his handprint here and then you can put yours there and then when your baby comes, you can put their handprint there. They recommended red and white for your hands if it’s a girl, so that her handprint is pink. Or white and a darker blue if it’s a boy, so that his handprint would be a baby blue. And you can paint the baby’s name below the square too, right there.” 

“I love it,” you croaked out, emotions quickly bursting to the surface. “Thank you, Penny. I love it, I love it so much.” 

You pulled Penny back in for a tight hug, tears starting to stream down your cheeks. Jake looked on, concerned, but Penny gave him a reassuring smile and mouthed that it was alright. And when Jake continued to look concerned, Penny whispered ‘hormones’ to him. Jake nodded slowly and gently took the plaque from your hands. 

“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” you breathed out, wiping them away hastily. “It just hit me all of a sudden.” 

“It’s been a long day. You’re making big steps. It’s a lot to take in all at once.” 

“Yeah,” you breathed out, trying to get a reign on your emotions again. Turning back to Jake, who was still staring at you with a measure of concern. “Where do you think we should put it up, once it’s complete?” 

“Somewhere everyone can see it,” Jake suggested, causing you to smile and nod in agreement. 

~~~~~

Since most of your stuff was already at Jake’s apartment, it didn’t take too much longer to fully make it your shared space. And you already made space in the living room for baby stuff. It was still early, you knew, but the alternative was researching about what horrible things you could find out at your twenty-week appointment, so you kept on decorating. 

But today was the day, so you supposed that you couldn’t push it off anymore. 

Waiting a bit anxiously in your car, you let out a breath when you spotted Jake’s truck pull into the lot. You grabbed your purse and slipped out of your car, walking over to where Jake parked. He got out of his truck, dressed in his day uniform, and quickly moved to your side. Pulling you in for a gentle hug, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“Are you alright?” he asked you, causing you to nod against his chest. “Everything’s going to be fine. Whatever we find out, it’s going to be fine, okay?” 

Jake locked up his truck before the two of you headed inside the office. You checked in and sat down, filling out some paperwork while Jake rested his arm behind your back. And when your name was called, the two of you silently walked back to the exam room. Laying back on the exam table, you stared at the ceiling as Jake rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb. 

A knock at the door made you sit up and move to the edge of the examination table. Your obstetrician walked inside the room with a kind smile. It started off as any regular doctor’s appointment would. You went over your symptoms, your pains, your bloodwork, and everything else before moving onto the ultrasound. 

You immediately reached for Jake as the wand touched your belly and he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. She moved it around, typing away at her computer, taking a few images and measurements, before turning to you with a reassuring smile. 

“Your baby’s growing normally and as they should. Everything is measuring normal. They’re a little smaller than average, but nothing to be concerned about. They’re still a perfectly healthy and normal size.” She typed something else before turning back to you and Jake. “Do you still want to wait to know the baby’s sex?” 

“Yes, please,” you answered quickly.

“Alright, well, I’m just going to turn the screen briefly,” your obstetrician replied, hiding the information from you and Jake. 

“You can tell?” you asked quietly.

“Yes, but all the files are marked to keep that information completely private. Unless you change your mind, of course.” 

You nodded and shared a look with Jake, who pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. Your obstetrician typed away again before moving the screen back to your view. And as she continued to tell you that everything was normal and healthy, you sunk in and started to relax and enjoy the moment. 

“Your baby seems to be a bit stubborn,” your obstetrician noted, trying to move the wand around your belly again to take some more measurements. “They start to cooperate and then seem to decide not to about three seconds later.”

“That’s not shocking,” you mused, watching the movement of your child on the screen. “Stubbornness is probably genetic for them.” 

After a few more pictures, your belly was wiped off and you sat up once again. Your obstetrician smiled kindly as she sat down on her stool in front of you. Jake sat beside you, more relaxed than when he walked in, but still alert, as your obstetrician turned to you.

“Alright, there’s just a few more screening questions and then we’re all set.” 

“Of course,” you agreed, nodding slowly.

“Mr. Seresin,” your obstetrician stated, causing Jake to turn to her. “Did you want to go and grab the ultrasound photos? A tech can bring you back there. And you can ask them any questions of your own about the process.” 

Jake hesitated for a moment but agreed and got up from his seat. You squeezed his hand in goodbye before he exited the room with one of the techs. Your obstetrician waited until he was gone before turning to you.

“At the twenty week appointment, we usually perform a screening of your mental health.” After you nodded, she began. “Have you ever had a history of mental illness? Anxiety? Depression? Eating disorders? Anything like that?”

“Yes,” you answered softly. “Depression and anxiety.” 

“When?” she asked, poised to type down the information.

“My mother passed away when I was twelve. And after that, I was diagnosed with depression and put in talk therapy for a time. But I stopped that when I was eighteen. And they put me on anti-anxiety medication when I was sixteen.” 

“Are you still on that medication?”

“No, I stopped it about a year afterwards. I was just going through a lot at the time and talk therapy wasn’t working completely. It was just to get me through that time and then I didn’t need it anymore.” 

“Have you had any flare ups since then?” 

“A few times,” you answered honestly. 

“You didn’t go back to talk therapy or medication or anything?”

“No, I just . . . waited for it to get better, I suppose. Probably wasn't the best decision, but I survived.” 

“Can I ask why you didn’t return to therapy or medication?” 

“Honestly, the only reason I went to therapy or went on medication when I was a teenager was because I had people in my family push me in that direction. But when I was an adult, I just . . . I wanted to just handle it quietly.” 

“Well, please document if you feel any depression or anxiety during your pregnancy and your postpartum period. It’s an overwhelming time for anyone and there’s no shame in asking for help of any kind.” Your obstetrician paused before asking softly, “Do you trust your partner to help you if you feel depressed or anxious?” 

“Yeah,” you answered honestly, nodding along. 

“And are you two living together?”

“Yes, we are.” 

“And you feel safe in that living situation? Do you feel safe and confident about bringing your baby into that environment?” 

“Yes, completely.” 

“Alright, well, please just document if you feel anxious or depressed.” She stood up and grabbed a pamphlet and handed it to you. “You can always call our office or there’s a helpline that you can call at any time. And there’s no shame in any of it.” 

“Thank you,” you replied, thumbing through the pamphlet. 

~~~~~

That night, you and Jake laid in bed, looking at the photos from your ultrasound together. You were curled up on his chest, resting most of your weight on him as Jake wrapped his arm around your waist, cupping your continuously growing bump with his hand. 

“Were you a small baby?” you asked Jake softly, staring at the ultrasound picture of your baby. 

“What?” he questioned, turning to you with some confusion.

“Were you a small baby when you were born?” you repeated for him. “She said that the baby was smaller than average.” 

“I never asked,” Jake replied, a bit elusively. 

“I was normal weight, according to my mom,” you stated, still staring at the photo. “Bradley was a large baby with a big fat head, but I was normal weight and size. Mav said that after I was born, my mom told my dad that she wished that I was born first. It would have been an easier delivery, she told him.” 

“You think that they’ll stay smaller?” 

“I hope so,” you mused with a smile. “I’d prefer a six pound baby to a ten pound baby, thank you very much.” You turned to Jake with a soft look in your eye, resting your head on his shoulder. “Your mom never complained to you about how big your head was or how you were overactive in her belly or anything like that?” 

“No,” Jake replied shortly. 

Your smile slipped a bit and you turned back to the ultrasound photo. Jake rubbed his hand slowly up and down your bump, soothing you in one way but making another part of you wander from his side. 

“Can I take this one?” Jake asked, causing you to turn back to him.

“What?”

“Can I take this one with me?” Jake asked you again, pointing at one photo from the roll. “I was thinking about putting a photo from the ultrasound in my cockpit. If that’s alright with you.” 

“Yeah, of course,” you agreed, nodding to him and offering him a smile. “I think that’s sweet.” 

Jake nodded in return and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The two of you turned in for the night shortly afterwards. Rolling onto your side, you rested your head on your hand, staring out at the window. Jake gave your bump one last loving squeeze before moving away to fall asleep. And although you were exhausted and needed sleep, your mind kept you awake.

Staring at the window again, you paused when you felt that little flutter again. You smiled to yourself and glanced down at your bump.

“Right as I’m trying to go to sleep? Again?” you teased quietly. 

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[creation-help]

the first two are clementine pre n post wither storm n the third is an oc ive just been calling [DATA EXPUNGED]

theyre both pokemon ocs, w clem specifically being a mash up of being a minecraft storymode oc and a pokemon oc

[DATA EXPUNGED] is the Champion of Arceus n is v ? theatrical ? fancy ? either way he speaks like its the early 1800s, i also dont have much of a backstory for him since i created him like, 4 days ago n im VERY slow at giving ocs backstories

clementine on the other hand ive been making a backstory for several months so i have a lot to say but i wont so to sum up her backstory (in a way thats prolly shit ngl) its:

clem n her (still unnamed n undeveloped) friends go to a con, they win, they go to a post con festival, clem meets some guy, the same guy clem meets makes the wither storm, she defeats it but is v traumatized from it, she becomes a mayor of a town at some point but she ends up running away from kalos to kanto

[Is not familiar with the Pokémon storylines you're talking about and thus has nothing to comment on it, so apologies if that is relevant to the review]

I'm assuming [DATA EXPUNGED] isn't, at least in the current state of things, related to Clementines story at all?

I'll tackle [DATA EXPUNGED] first!

Very solid color scheme, I think the dark skin tone fits perfectly with black white and gold, especially since the shirt (top?) is white. The accessories and face patterns really give off a fancy, perhaps priest like aesthetic and it makes the whole collective come across as very distinguished. Supernatural too, considering the one white eye and again, face patterns, although it leaves some ambiguity since this could also just be a very fancy cultural getup. I have to say though, I'd probably have made the roses some other color: though the black is strong and very cool, you can't really see them from the black hair and thus it sorta muddies the effect and makes it look more like the character is wearing some headgarment rather than a rose crown. Unfortunately, since this is a picrew, i can't say much for more core aspects of the design like the shape of the face, eyes and nose, which I consider very essential aspects of designing human characters. This is no fault of yours, as I said, picrews can be limiting in this aspect.

Judging by the art style though I'm going to guess this character is meant to have a strong angular face and jawline with a straight, square nose. Strong but elegant brows, I assume? The beauty mark on his jaw though is a very nice touch! Gives some uniqueness and personality to the otherwise very conformed, untouched image the character has.

The character strikes me as a very learned, wise personality who knows things beyond this world, and I can definitely see that he'd speak more theatrically, like a preacher or professor (the book and quill help this).

If the character ever ends up drawn by free hand, here's things I'd suggest adjusting or adding to [DATA EXPUNGED]: Facial traits. I think a strong nose with a bit of a greek shape would do wonders for a theatrical, regal looking character like him, and if the angular jawline is intended, keep that!! Depending on age (or how dramatic you want him to look), I'd also suggest more visible cheekbones perhaps? Strong brows and serious eyes would contribute to this vibe but depending on of course where you take this character, you can change things to suit that! For what I'm suggesting here, the character feels like a sort of apocalypse preacher person who is more interested in studies and has a tendency to push people away. However you could also easily go a softer route with him as well but I think, if you do, I'd still keep the angular dramatic facial features. The rest of my suggestions would just be to add maybe the smallest bit more decoration or jewelry, maybe something with a more personal touch? Earrings, rings, ect. I feel like he'd be the type to carry around some very sentimental piece of jewelry or other item, something he holds in great value. He doesn't seem like he'd pretty up just for appearance sake. Also I feel like sideburns or some stray hair whispies would add a fun little touch that could divert from the more serious groomed image the character gives, just something to create uniqueness in general. Doesn't have to be those exact things I suggested.

Then Clementine!

Design is simple but functional. Personally I think she could also use a bit more to make her less generic ykno? To be fair this could also be a fault of whatever you used to make these images (not sure if that's a picrew or some other dollmaker thing). I like the amount of change you have between the before and after states, especially liking the touch of her expression changing, even though its not related to design here lol. The first one with the simple, a bit girlish and old timey dress works well with the half up hairstyle and simplistic outfit to establish a younger character who's out to see the world. The two things diverting from this image are the sword and maybe(?) her being barefoot. The sword evokes imagery of either someone who seems more innocent or naive but turns out to also have sharp, honed skills. OR a strapping enthusiast who is looking for adventure and her place in the world, with only the clothes on her back and this sword she found (lighthearted tone). The barefoot aspect also gives a bit of a rural vibe, of being more in touch with nature. Which is something the After™ version contrasts, with a more modern feeling outfit, and the loss of the sword.

I really like her having a longer hairstyle in the latter one, with the braids/dreads. Hairstyle changes are a great way to communicate something in a character so it fits! It feels more subdued mature while still keeping a bit of that openness and freedom, with the dreads hanging freely, and hey, still being in a half up style! Good one!

I'd suggest maybe adding more signs of experience or wear on the latter version, just to communicate her having gone through something major, even traumatic. Scars or something like more visible eyebags, or something to show a more scuffed up appearance ykno? You could also make her more stocky and built, or maybe a bit chubbier in the latter, bc to me it feels like a slightly older version of the character and so, getting more built feels appropriate for that.

Overall just add more simple, small touches to communicate personality more. I think the latter one is good at that but the first one feels more generic. If it's meant to be simple though, I understand! But still. Doesn't have to be anything major, could just be things like small accessories or things she's personalized for herself. Maybe In the first version she could have a little patched up clothing to show her outdoorsy lifestyle? If not, you could add something else, just a suggestion.

From a purely visual standpoint, [DATA EXPUNGED]'s design is lots more interesting and distinct looking, and I'd only really adjust the person under the clothing and accessories. For Clementine, I feel that she could use to stand out just a tad more. However I hugely appreciate them both being poc and also having natural hairstyles (both having dreads at some point) to it! Definitely helps make them more diverse, which is always a design plus!

[annjiru]

It had taken some major negotiation and maybe even the slightest amount of intense, obnoxious staring in complete silence at the Director of General Affairs- But Yoon had managed to set aside a free block of time to meet up with Hewley. Traditionally, he'd always worked through any holiday, not having much by the way of personal sentiment attached to much or anything that 'normal' civilians celebrated. He was starting to enjoy the littler things over a span of time, even if they did prove difficult to make a reality with his work schedule.

Jae-hyo had spend almost an entire month trying to think up a decent present for Angeal and none of his ideas ever seemed to match up with what he thought would work. Something more... personal was obvious, not a gift that could simply be bought easily. As much as the Turk enjoyed throwing money at his friends in overly generous ways, the SOLDIER wasn't comfortable with accepting luxury items- As he'd come to realize.

Jae didn't have hobbies, he wasn't crafty. Aside from plating dishes and decorating food, he wasn't good with his hands in a way that actually would produce a gift that required time and effort. His lanky frame haunted shop after shop, his mind in a mire of increasing frustration and general upset over his predicament.

Toying with the braided leather necklace encircling his throat, his lithe fingers stroked over a pendant made of crimson lacquer and a polished behemoth fang- A present that Hewley had given Yoon after a successful first mission together.

After hearing an elderly jeweler greet him with a warm 'hyungnim' to attract his attention, Jae paused to look over the beautiful glass cases filled with rings, bangles, and other accessories.

It was the same usual song and dance he entertained, being sold on the 'highest quality' and the 'best prices' for the artisan's wares on display.

"That necklace- I have just the thing to go with it! Hold on," the other immigrant exclaimed, running off to his work table behind the counters. A long rectangular box was brought out held between his wrinkled hands, presented and unveiled with all the decorum of a chancellor passing on a formal item meant to symbolize one's divine right to rule.

Cushioned by a pillow of black satin was a handwoven norigae made of pure silk thread, the material also custom dyed a stunning and sumptuous crimson hue.

"Completely natural, none of that cheap synthetic shit- Pardon my language. Made the old way, of course!"

The crime lord's vulpine widening at the ornate silver charm attached to the knotted cords, Yoon honestly couldn't grab his wallet fast enough.

-

Jae-hyo was all nerves, partly from some weird lingering anxiety but also anticipation. He wanted Hewley to be surprised, maybe even taken aback- But in a good way. He'd traded the original disposable box for a small wooden jewelry box: nothing overly carved or decorated. It was straightforward and simple by design, made of naturally sealed cherry and flat brass hardware. Hopefully, the deceptive packaging would offset just how much he'd paid for the damn thing... In his mind, the cost honestly hadn't mattered to him, it was the sentimental connection attached to the trinket that was important.

Taking in a slow and calming breath, he exhaled quietly and knocked on the door to Angeal's personal quarters on the floor meant for First Class SOLDIERs.

Enjoying a light drink and some food, as well as conversation, they finally seemed to get around to remembering they actually had presents to foist upon each other.

"Here, hope you like it," he'd admitted with a small smile.

"The charm is a traditional Han tiger's claw design- It's meant to bring good fortune and ward off negative energy. We usually wear different types of these trinkets as accessories for our traditional clothes, but I thought maybe you could add it to your look?" he explains, wondering now if it would clash with the standard issue SOLDIER uniform, or even the already ostentatious style of First Class formal military suits.

"I know the color's a bit loud and not your thing, but..." he trails off, beginning to lose steam in terms of verbally selling it off on the other man.

"If it doesn't work or you don't like it, then you don't have to accept it. I completely understand, s'no big deal."

Jae shrugs casually, trying to not make potential rejection a huge thing. He could always try again.

[Sorry, I felt bad about getting rid of the watermark and a 100x100 icons didn't really seem to capture the whole item very well. BUT YEAH, HAVE THIS.]

The chevalier was pleasantly surprised to see that Yoon had managed to make time for him that afternoon. Time had conspired against them since Hewley’s birthday, leaving their moments together scant and fleeting. Angeal had resigned himself to the likelihood of spending the remainder of the holidays apart, the weight of their demanding schedules a familiar,  vexing  hurdle. The Turk, apparently, had other plans, seeming uncharacteristically adamant to celebrate together in their own way.

Fingers traced the small, neatly wrapped package he was clasping to pass the time. Though his present for Jae was anything but ostentatious (indeed, it was merely  a humble offering) he hoped that the sentiment it carried made up for it.

Earlier that morning, with the break of dawn, Angeal made his way towards a local neighborhood temple. Evidently, its patrons had already begun preparing themselves for the new year. The walkway up the temple was newly lined with merchants hoping to capitalize on the holiday by selling handicrafts among other festive wares. He perused their stalls, silently praying he would find the perfect present for Jae.

Normally, Angeal was not the type to put off getting gifts for those dearest to him, but he found that nothing had quite spoken to him no matter how far or wide he window shopped. To his dismay, inspiration had eluded him this year, every option falling short of the unique bond the two shared. To make matters worse, he felt like he had exhausted many of his handmade options, admittedly getting a bit carried away with them early on in their relationship. Besides, he felt like he would need something to commemorate the occasion, something out of the ordinary and perhaps even unexpected.

As he came to the end of the colorful booths, he suppresses a sigh and decides to make his way up the cobblestone steps to the center shrine. Just as he's about to reach the zenith, he blinks in surprise as he sees a priest kneeling beside the stairway with an array of ornate charms splayed out before him. The First crouches down before him, hoping to get a better look. Honeyed features visibly flush when he realizes that the amulets that he  finds  himself  most drawn to were said to promote a happy marriage.

The priest, noting his bemusement, offered a knowing smile and suggested crafting a bespoke omamori. He explained, with gentle wisdom, that the symbolism of binding fates need not be confined to matrimony. The chevalier gives a curt nod, and explains what he's looking for. « Ah, young love! » the priest exclaims in understanding before disappearing into his workshop, leaving Angeal to mind his wares in his absence. After several moments, the priest emerges with two silk talismen in tow that that he offers to the raven-haired warrior with a solemn bow. The newly crafted omamori are blue and purple, lined with gold lettering and a simple heart-shaped motif. They were slightly larger than the other charms on display, but still discreet enough to encourage daily wear wherever they are affixed.

He thanks the other profusely and leaves him with a generous donation of gil before he ascends to the top of the shrine to try to calm his mind. He suddenly felt nervous about the gesture, not wanting to come off too strong and potentially scare Yoon off. Ultimately, he reasons that he'd rather be embarrassed by his gift than show up empty-handed – a taboo he would never deign to commit.

--

Later that day, he welcomes Jae in with a smile when he shows up at his door, ever punctual and bearing his own gift. After a lull in their conversation, they wordlessly agree that it was time to exchange gifts. He makes an encouraging gesture with his open palm and allows Jae to go first.

Angeal is captivated at the sight of the norigae and listens closely to Jae's explanation. Slowly, he takes the box in his hands and lifts  the charm out of it, turning it carefully in his hands like the precious treasure it was. His eyes wander upward to Jae, meeting his gaze before the glint of the Behemoth fang the other wore around his neck catches his eye. The commander feels the warmth of a blush start to redden his otherwise stoic features, and he turns away quickly in a pitiful attempt to hide it. He's touched by the gesture and finds it endearing that between the two of them, their accessories make a complete pair.

❝ It's perfect. I think it could go nicely on my belt . . . what do you think ? ❞ he replies, already starting to fasten the norigae to his clothing with  nimble  precision.  ❝ There. You might not believe it, but I think I feel it working, ❞ he adds, a small smile gracing his lips. Said by any other person, his comment might come off as a mere joke. But his words are imbued with such sincerity sure to swiftly put any other  interpretation to rest.

❝ I think we were on the same wavelength. Great minds, so they say, ❞ he remarks as he hands Yoon his present. Azure  hues  watch  closely as the other unwraps his present, revealing the omamori enveloped in a plush, hand-knit square scarf. ❝ I hope I didn't overstep, ❞ he continues, searching the other's expression for how his present was received. ❝ To be honest . . . I've always loved the idea of two people binding their fates together. In our world, you know better than anyone how difficult that is to do. But I wanted to honor what we share, even in a gesture as small as this.❞ Angeal’s words lingered in the air, imbued with the quiet power of sincerity—a love expressed not in grandeur, but in the tender language of shared understanding.

[saintdiamondsblog]

Ashes in Diamonds: How to Wear Your Loved One Close

Grief is a painful process, so it’s natural for people to look for ways to keep the memory of their beloved person alive. To best remember the loved one, turning ashes into diamonds is a welcomed idea. This process turns cremated remains into sparkling diamonds, which can be in the form of jewelry. It can enable you to have part of your dear one with you wherever you are at any one time.

Ash in diamond jewelry is different from other forms of memorializing the dead because it is classy and sentimental. A pendant, ring, or bracelet is created in a way that becomes a constant symbol of the relationship you once had. In this blog, we’ll explain how you can have your loved one with you daily with diamonds from cremation.

The Beauty of Ash Diamonds

They are not just beautiful; they are personalised Ash diamonds. They are created by using carbon taken from the remains of your loved one and having it synthesised into a synthetic diamond. This diamond can then be processed into cutting, polishing, and placing it in the jewellery if you desire.

It’s an individual gemstone, same as the person you value. It will come in any colour, size and cut that you would like, depending on the personality of the user or your own desires. Selecting to make ashes into diamonds, an ordinary piece of jewellery into a memorial. It is a kind of celebration of the represented personality’s life, their memory that is embodied in an object of beauty.

Jewellery Possibility of Ashes into Diamonds

Once you have decided to make ashes into a diamond, there are so many ways to wear it. Rings, particularly because the circles signify no beginning and no end to love and memory, are chosen quite often. Another classic piece of jewellery is a pendant, which lets you always carry your dear one with you, literally.

Those who wish to pay their respects in private may find the beads in bracelets or earrings more appropriate. Regardless of what these pieces are, they are meant to harmonize looks and feelings that are special. If you are separated from the person you love, then jewellery items are a good way to bridge the gap and make you feel close.

Why Choose Cremains to Diamonds?

Turning cremains into diamonds is an elegant and portable way to remember your loved one. Diamond jewellery is more personal than urns or memorials because you can bring it anywhere you go as you go through life.

This option is also discreet. Here, the necklace attracts no attention, and most people will not know the importance of why it is worn unless shared. This privacy is also good because it gives comfort to you and other people while, at the same time, allowing you to mourn and honor your loved one in the best way possible. It’s a way of keeping the past alive without having to suffer the full force of the pain.

Conclusion

At SaintDiamonds, we have capitalized on assisting families to urn the ashes of their loved ones into stunning diamonds for jewellery purposes. Our process is gentle and accurate, guaranteeing you beautiful memories of another dear one.

Selecting SaintDiamonds means selecting quality, care, and a loving approach to people. Let us assist you in giving a meaningful homage with cremation into diamonds. Your loved one will always be by your side, and their memory will live on always where or with whom it brings comfort to you.

[goldplusjewels]

Gold Plus: Why You Should Invest in Gold Rings for Women, Men, and Diamond Engagement Rings

When it comes to timeless and meaningful jewelry, few items carry as much significance as gold rings and diamond engagement rings. Gold rings, whether for women or men, are not just ornamental but also symbolic. They represent love, commitment, milestones, and personal style. Diamond engagement rings, on the other hand, mark the beginning of a lifelong journey and are often treasured for their unparalleled elegance and sparkle.

At Gold Plus, we understand that every piece of jewelry tells a story, which is why our collection of gold rings for women, gold rings for men, and diamond engagement rings are designed to combine timeless beauty, craftsmanship, and quality. But why should you consider investing in these pieces? Let’s dive deeper into the significance and benefits of choosing gold and diamonds, and how Gold Plus can help you find the perfect rings.

The Timeless Appeal of Gold

Gold has always been associated with wealth, power, and status. For centuries, it has been the metal of choice for kings, queens, and aristocrats. However, gold is not just for the elite. Its universal appeal makes it the perfect material for jewelry, whether you’re buying a gold ring for yourself or for a loved one.

1. Durability and Longevity

Gold is a highly durable metal that resists tarnish and corrosion, making it a perfect investment for rings that will last a lifetime. Gold rings for women and gold rings for men are often passed down as family heirlooms because they retain their value and luster over time. Whether you’re investing in a simple gold band or an intricately designed ring, you’re purchasing a piece that can be worn for years without losing its beauty.

2. Versatility in Design

One of the most appealing aspects of gold is its versatility. It can be crafted into a wide variety of designs to suit different tastes and styles. At Gold Plus, we offer an extensive range of gold rings for women that cater to different preferences, from minimalist and modern designs to ornate and traditional patterns. The same goes for gold rings for men, which are available in sleek, simple bands or more intricate, masculine designs.

Gold comes in various shades as well, including yellow gold, white gold, and rose gold, allowing you to choose a hue that complements your skin tone or personal style. This versatility makes gold rings a suitable choice for any occasion, whether it’s a casual outing, a formal event, or even as a wedding band.

3. Symbolism and Sentimentality

Gold rings often carry deep personal and cultural significance. In many cultures, gold is considered a symbol of purity, prosperity, and good fortune. Gold rings for women and gold rings for men are exchanged during weddings and engagements as a sign of eternal love and commitment. Gold’s inherent value adds to its sentimental worth, making it more than just a piece of jewelry—it becomes a keepsake that commemorates important life events.

The Importance of Investing in Diamond Engagement Rings

While gold is timeless, diamonds bring an element of luxury and exclusivity to any piece of jewelry. Diamond engagement rings are particularly special because they represent a lifetime commitment to a partner. If you’re considering an engagement, here’s why a diamond engagement ring from Gold Plus is a wise investment.

1. Diamonds Are Forever

The phrase “a diamond is forever” has become synonymous with engagement rings for a reason. Diamonds are one of the hardest substances on Earth, making them nearly indestructible. This durability ensures that diamond engagement rings can withstand everyday wear without losing their brilliance. Unlike other stones, diamonds do not chip, scratch, or break easily, making them ideal for a piece of jewelry that is meant to be worn every day for the rest of your life.

2. Symbolism of Love and Commitment

Diamonds have long been associated with love, purity, and strength. A diamond engagement ring symbolizes the enduring nature of a couple’s commitment to each other. The beauty of a diamond lies not only in its sparkle but in what it represents—a promise that, like the diamond, will last forever. Choosing a diamond engagement ring from Gold Plus allows you to invest in a piece of jewelry that carries profound emotional significance.

3. Customization and Personalization

At Gold Plus, we understand that every engagement is unique, which is why we offer a range of customization options for diamond engagement rings. From the cut of the diamond to the setting and band material, you can design a ring that is tailored to your personal preferences. Whether you’re looking for a classic solitaire diamond ring or a more intricate design with a halo setting, our collection caters to all styles and budgets.

4. Investment Value

In addition to its emotional significance, a diamond engagement ring is also a smart financial investment. Diamonds retain their value over time, and in some cases, their value can even increase, especially if they are rare or have a unique cut. When you purchase a diamond engagement ring from Gold Plus, you’re not just buying a piece of jewelry—you’re making a long-term investment that holds both sentimental and monetary value.

Why Choose Gold Plus?

Investing in gold rings for women, gold rings for men, and diamond engagement rings is a significant decision, and choosing the right jeweler is just as important. Gold Plus is committed to offering high-quality, ethically sourced materials and expert craftsmanship to ensure that every piece of jewelry we sell meets the highest standards.

1. Ethically Sourced Materials

At Gold Plus, we believe in responsible sourcing. All of our gold and diamonds are ethically sourced to ensure that you can wear your jewelry with pride, knowing that it has been produced in a way that respects both the environment and human rights. This commitment to sustainability sets us apart from other jewelers and allows you to invest in jewelry that is not only beautiful but also ethically made.

2. Craftsmanship and Quality

Each piece of jewelry at Gold Plus is crafted with precision and care. Our team of experienced artisans uses traditional techniques combined with modern technology to create gold rings for women, gold rings for men, and diamond engagement rings that are both timeless and contemporary. We take pride in the quality of our products, and each piece undergoes rigorous quality checks to ensure that it meets our high standards.

3. Customer Service and Support

At Gold Plus, we are dedicated to providing exceptional customer service. From the moment you enter our store or browse our website, our team is on hand to guide you through the process of selecting the perfect ring. Whether you need advice on choosing between different types of gold or guidance on selecting the right diamond, our experts are here to help.

Conclusion

Investing in gold rings for women, gold rings for men, and diamond engagement rings is a decision that combines personal sentiment with financial wisdom. These pieces are not only beautiful and symbolic but also durable and valuable, making them a worthwhile investment for any occasion. At Gold Plus, we offer a wide range of high-quality, ethically sourced jewelry that caters to all styles and budgets. Whether you’re marking a special occasion or simply looking to add to your jewelry collection, Gold Plus has the perfect gold or diamond ring for you.

[kamaltradingusa]

Permanent Jewelry Is The Trend of 2023

If you are searching for the latest fashion trend that is here to stay, look no further than Permanent Jewelry. In 2023, this trend is sweeping the fashion world, and we are here to tell you all about it.

What is Permanent Jewelry?

Have you ever had a piece of jewelry that felt so special you couldn't bear to part with it? Something you have worn for so long that it is now an extension of yourself or something holding great sentimental value. Well, the trend of permanent jewelry elevates this idea to a whole new level

Permanent Jewelry is a term used to describe jewelry designed to stay with you for the long term. Unlike traditional jewelry that you take off at night or for specific occasions, permanent jewelry becomes a part of your everyday life. This innovative concept is changing the way we think about accessorizing, and it's gaining popularity rapidly.

Permanent Jewelry Supplies: The Essentials

To embrace this trend, you will need to know about Permanent Jewelry supplies. The right supplies are crucial for creating and maintaining these unique pieces. Whether you are a jewelry enthusiast or a professional in the industry, having access to high-quality permanent jewelry supplies is a must.

Permanent Jewelry Supplies Wholesale: To kickstart your journey into Permanent Jewelry, consider buying your supplies in bulk. This can be a cost-effective way to access various items, from metals and gems to tools and equipment. Many suppliers like us at Kamal Trading Company offer wholesale options, allowing you to stock up on the essentials.

Permanent Jewelry Metals: The choice of metals is crucial for permanent jewelry. While gold and silver are timeless classics, new alloys and finishes are gaining popularity. Stainless steel and titanium are known for their durability and resistance to tarnish, making them ideal for permanent jewelry.

Permanent Jewelry Gemstones: Gemstones are an essential part of any jewelry piece. When choosing gemstones for permanent jewelry, consider their hardness, as they will be exposed to daily wear and tear. Diamonds, sapphires, and rubies are popular choices due to their toughness and longevity.

Why Permanent Jewelry is Trending

The rise of Permanent Jewelry in 2023 is not just a phase. Several factors contribute to its growing popularity.

Minimal Maintenance: Permanent jewelry doesn't require regular upkeep, unlike traditional jewelry. No more worrying about taking off your necklace or ring before a shower or exercise. These pieces are designed to endure all aspects of your daily life.

Personalization: Permanent jewelry can be customized with special engravings or unique designs that hold personal meaning. This level of personalization enhances the sentimental value of these pieces.

Durability: Unlike other jewelry that may break, tarnish, or lose stones, permanent jewelry is built to withstand the test of time. This makes it a wise investment for those who want their jewelry to last.

Eco-Friendly: The trend towards sustainability is reflected in Permanent Jewelry. By investing in pieces meant to last a lifetime, you are reducing the need for new jewelry production and its associated environmental impact.

In conclusion, Permanent Jewelry is undoubtedly the trend of 2023. Isn't it amazing how a piece of jewelry can hold so much significance in our lives? The way it becomes intertwined with our memories and experiences is unremarkably special. With the right pieces and attitude, you can make a lasting impression with Permanent Jewelry in the fashion world. Remember, Kamal Trading Company is here for you in this journey - all you have to do is reach out!

[2021milwaukeebucksring]

The Ultimate Guide to Collecting Patriots Super Bowl Rings

Are you a die-hard New England Patriots fan? Do you dream of owning one of their famous Super Bowl rings? Well, you're not alone! Many fans and collectors alike are on the hunt for these prized possessions. But with so many options out there, it can be overwhelming to know where to start. That's why we've put together this ultimate guide to collecting Patriots Super Bowl Rings! From the history of these iconic pieces to tips on how to get your hands on them, we've got everything you need to know. So sit back, grab some popcorn, and let's dive into the world of Patriots Super Bowl Rings! For more info about Championship Rings for sale click here.

How to Collect Patriots Super Bowl Rings

1. Do Your Research: Before jumping into collecting Patriots Super Bowl Rings, it's important to do your research. Learn about the history of the team and their victories over the years. This will give you a better understanding of what rings are out there and which ones you want to add to your collection.

2. Set a Budget: Collecting these rings can be expensive so it’s important to set a budget before starting your collection. Decide how much you’re willing to spend on each ring and stick with that amount.

3. Know Where to Look: There are many places where you can find Patriots Super Bowl Rings for sale including online auction sites, sports memorabilia stores, and collector events.

4. Consider Authenticity: With any type of collectible item, authenticity is key! Make sure that any ring you purchase comes with a certificate of authenticity or has been verified by experts in the field.

5. Expand Your Collection: Don't limit yourself to just one type of ring! Consider adding other items such as signed jerseys or game-used equipment from your favorite players on the team.

By following these tips, you'll be well on your way to building an impressive collection of Patriots Super Bowl Rings!

Patriots Super Bowl Rings: A History

The New England Patriots are one of the most successful teams in NFL history, having won six Super Bowl championships. With each victory came a unique and stunning piece of jewelry - the Super Bowl ring.

The design of the rings has evolved over time, reflecting not just the changing style preferences but also showcasing the team's accomplishments. The first championship ring was awarded to players and staff members after their victory in Super Bowl XXXVI in 2002. It featured an image of a Lombardi Trophy on top with "Patriots" engraved above it.

In subsequent years, as they added more titles to their name, the rings became bigger, flashier and more elaborate. Each ring bears its own distinctive features that highlight key moments from that particular season’s journey to glory.

For example, their fifth title-winning ring boasts 283 diamonds – a nod to how many points were scored by Atlanta Falcons during their comeback win against them in Super Bowl LI – while their sixth rings have “Still Here” inscribed inside them which is meant as both motivation for next season and recognition of what they’ve already accomplished.

Patriots’ Super Bowl Rings aren't just beautiful pieces but also hold immense sentimental value for those who receive them. They signify hard work, dedication and triumph- all traits that define this legendary franchise's success story!

Conclusion

Collecting Patriots Super Bowl rings is an exciting and rewarding hobby for any New England sports fan. Each ring represents a unique moment in the team's history and serves as a symbol of their hard work, dedication, and success.

Whether you are looking to start your collection or add to it, there are many different ways to acquire these coveted rings. From purchasing replicas or authentic rings online to attending auctions or meeting players in person, there is no shortage of options available.

Just remember that collecting Patriots Super Bowl rings can be an expensive endeavor, so it's important to set a budget and do your research before making any purchases. With patience and perseverance though, you too can become the proud owner of these stunning pieces of championship jewelry.

So go forth and start building your collection today – who knows what historic moments the future holds for our beloved New England Patriots!

[kainscape]

Bo x reader where the reader used to live in town and be friends with him and Vincent then comes back because they wanted to and find bo but bo doesn't remember till he sees the bracelet you made for the both of them (the readers has Bo's name on it.

I always think about scenarios like this with Bo, you’re so smart for this anon<3 I made it to where Lester didn’t know you, making you out as just a reg victim and Vincent isn’t really mentioned in the story.. this feels very biased but I’m in love with Bo so 🙌 (NOT PROOF READ)

Dwelling on the past was saved for when Bo was alone, truly alone. Dwelling as in the scars on his mind and body slowly reopening. There’s also the… reminiscing. The parts where Bo will wall subconsciously slower by a certain house or land. He remembers the meet ups he’d have with his school ‘friends’ or the places he’d run away to. There was always this old lady who seemed to overlook what everybody rumored about Bo as a little boy, bringing out home made snacks for him. That house was now a fabricated version of the comforting place, the blood stains hidden away forever.

That didn’t mess with him as much as the flowers that grew near by the house did. It’s not like he really cared for taking care of plants or a garden, but he knew what they meant. Who they represented. Bo only liked the way they bloomed because of what you had told him. You, his true first crush and friend. You’re mom and dad owned the only flower shops in Ambrose, giving leeway to flower seeds “borrowed’’ by you. Taking it upon yourself, you mothered the flower until it blessed the world with it’s color and shape. Of course, you were loaded with facts about it, but Bo only listened because you seemed to bloom when talking about this. Your colors shined the brightest in the Louisiana sun while you smelled the flower.

That was a core memory, his best friend that had left the town. His first true heart break, the one added onto the pile in the back of his brain. This life required a certain type of blockage. One where he had to disconnect with the ethical values and memories. It’s almost like he forgot all about his past life that didn’t include his parents. He wouldn’t be able to point out anybody that could’ve lived in the town. This also includes any sentimental material items. Besides his fathers ring and some of his mothers jewelry, all other possessions was lost after he went to foster care with his brothers.

Bo sighed, air quickly escaping his nose as he prepares for the victims heading his way, trying to place his mind back in the present. Vincent had gotten signal from Lester that there was a singular person with car troubles heading their way. This is going to be quick and simple, depending on how quick Bo wanted to discard of the person. He was seated behind the counter to the mechanic shop, fidgeting with his truckers hat. There was already sweat forming on the back of his neck and forehead, collecting on the collar of his suit and hat.

You could say the same, regretting not taking the invitation of a ride up here from the odd guy you met. Your shoulders were definitely sunburnt, the sun blazing your form as you walked the oh so familiar roads. Your body was tense, not just from the long walk, but also the anxiousness of seeing your old home town and old friend. Your bracelet stuck in place, making its own tan line on your wrist. You could never forget Bo, his prescience always at the front of your mind. You couldn’t help the extra sweat forming just at his name mentioned. Your body heated up when the truck guy had said Bo was just up ahead.

Anticipation filled you both, your form coming into Bos view while the shop could now be spotted by you. You could almost run to the store, checking every room if it was true he was still here. You played with bracelet now, even more anxious now that everything was coming back to you. The memories, the feelings. Bo simply cracked his knuckles, standing from his seat and heading for the shop door. His southern charm was present, his infamous smirk greeting you.

You already knew it was Bo, his stance and build all too familiar. You smiled, slowing your fast walk as you took in his matured features. You wanted to say so many things, why you left, how you felt, how you remembered him and Vincent after all- “hey there, what can I do for ya.” Your smile faded as your eyebrows furrowed. Did he not remember you, or was he playing around with you.

You wanted to believe it was just a small joke, a little taken back at the lack of remembrance. What if this was just a guy who looked almost exactly like Bo with the same name. You opened your mouth to say something, anything to make him remember. He stood there as well, raising his eyebrows at your hesitation. You seemed to be in deep thought, so he took the time to look over you. He got down to you hands, the way one pinched at the small bracelet with letters.

It was his name. The letters spelled his name. He squinted his eyes, looking back up to your face, and then it just fell into place. Your face was present in so many of his memories, but it’s like there was also a blank space. Now you were radiant, flooding him with all the time you spent together. As if you could sense the realization just from his face, you offered a small smile.

“Well I’ll be damned..” Bo kept his smirk, making his way to you. You took no time in hugging the man close, a slight grip on the back of his mechanics suit. Bo had felt as if he had drank your scent, drunk from the heat of your body on his. There were no words as you guys bathed in each other’s presences. You didn’t care for heat anymore, or how your shirt stuck to your skin. You could only focus on the way Bo still slowly rocked when you guys held a long hug. The way his hand held the back of your head.

When you guys broke, he held your shoulders, looking over your face. “I haven’t seen a face like yours in years, almost slipped my mind on who you were.” His calloused hand finding your wrist with the bracelet. You watched him, wanting to savor this moment. “Good thing one of us knows how to keep up with things.” He smiled as he took in the old piece of jewelry, feeling a little guilty for losing his.

You scoffed, gently placing your hand on his face, a smile permanently placed on your face. “I can always make another one, this time I’ll weld it together so you can’t lose it .” You both laughed, pulling each other close once more. Bo wasn’t just glad that he could put a face on his good memories, he was relieved to know that you never forgot him or the town.

It gave him something along the lines of a possessive and appreciation feel. He was obligated to keep you here, be with him and his brothers. Bo uncovered the veil, and he saw you.

[shoutaaizawas]

↳ keigo takami x fem!reader → ❝shiny things❞

summary: hawks has more bird-like tendencies than you initially thought. he likes to present you with odd items as gifts and finally you figure out why word count: 2,406 tags/warnings: fluff, hawks being a bird a/n: uhh i don’t know i love the bird man

sequel “preening”

masterlist

Dating Hawks was unusual for a list of reasons. He was a pro hero so that meant he was very busy, in the public eye, and couldn’t tell you everything. Then there was the way Hawks had been raised. After a while of dating, he trusted you enough to open up and tell you about his childhood. It shed a lot of light on the things he did in your relationship. But perhaps the least expected thing was his bird-like habits.

It wasn’t unusual for people with animal-like quirks the show similar traits to said animal. Selkie and Gang Orca came to mind although they looked more like their animal counterparts than Hawks did. Perhaps that was why you didn’t expect it from him.

At first, you thought he was joking. You had been dating for a while enough to know each other well enough to start to develop feelings. Hawks flew in to meet you for a coffee date in between work. The wind-blown hair and charming smile always made your heart skip a beat.

“Look what I found.” He said, his tone of voice sounded like an excited kid. He held out his hand present the shiny blue marble. You glanced up at him wondering if he was joking but he looked happy to present this offering. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt his feelings even if you didn’t quite understand.

“Wow, where’d you find this?” You asked taking it and holding it up in the light to examine it.

“I found it on patrol.” He said. “It was shining in the light and caught my eye. Don’t worry I washed it off.” He reassured. That almost made you laugh.

“It’s pretty.” You said. That wasn’t a lie, in its own way it was pretty but you could honestly say you had never met someone over the age of ten present a marble with such excitement.

“It’s for you.” He said with a smile that melted your heart. The sentiment wasn’t lost on you even if you were trying to wrap your head around it.

“Thank you, you’re too sweet.” You told him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

The next time that happened you were more prepared for it. It was a perfect day, the sky was clear, and the weather cool. The salty breeze from the ocean filled the air around you as you walked hand in hand with your boyfriend. The sun was sinking into the horizon leaving a beautiful sunset.

Hawks spotted something, his eyes widening as he let go of your hand and rushed forward. He leaned down picking up something from the ground. Brushing it off he stood and returned to your side.

“Look!” He said in an excited voice holding his open hand up to you. You smiled at the way his wings fluttered in excitement behind him.

“What is it?” You asked putting one hand underneath his as you looked. There was a small shiny green object, it almost looked like a rock.

“It’s a piece of sea glass! It’s normal glass that ends up in the ocean, it takes like fifty years of tumbling around in the water to look like this.” He said. Looking at it, it was pretty. The frosted texture was unique you realized as you picked it up. He closed your hand over it. “Keep it.” He smiled.

You smiled at him sliding the sea glass in your pocket for safekeeping. This wasn’t the last time that he gave you an odd gift with a genuine spirit. You always smiled when he presented the items with pride and excitement, his feathers puffed up.

It was a night that you were spending with Hawks at his fancy apartment when things started to make more sense. You had made him dinner and were enjoying a bottle of wine now.

Hawks wasn’t a drinker but since you met him you had gotten him to like wine. It wasn’t unusual for you to share a bottle. It always amused you the pink tint on his cheeks and how relaxed he got.

The view from Hawks balcony was nice, a perfect city skyline. The love seat there was comfy and so was your position resting against Hawks, one of his winds draped around you keeping you close and protecting you from the cold night. The candles lit around you gave off a dim glow.

You looked at your empty glass and his. As much as you didn’t want to get up you did want more wine so you would have to sacrifice your comfort for a moment.

“Let me get you more.” You said taking his glass in your hand before standing up. He made a noise of complaint at the loss of contact.

“I can get it.” He said. You leaned forward pressing a kiss against his lips, your free hand grazing his cheek.

“Let me, relax here. I’ll be right back.” You said before walking into the apartment. You entered his nice kitchen grabbing the bottle on the counter. There was enough for one glass. You looked at the full bottle on the counter. It wouldn’t hurt to open up another, you could always save the rest if you didn’t finish it.

Opening a drawer you looked for the wine opener. This one had normal utensils in it. The one below it had towels. It was the third drawer down that was odd.

It was full of random items, rocks, stray earrings, buttons, and other odds and ends. It wasn’t your usual junk drawer. All of the items had a certain shine to them. Your mind was immediately pulled to the random things Hawks had presented to you so happily.

You let out a small gasp as it all clicked. He was a bird. Well, not literally but it seemed he shared more traits with the animal than you had originally guessed. Looking at all the items you knew that he cared for them enough to keep them in his house.

A smile met your lips thinking about how excited he always was as he handed you the shiny thing he had found. It was so sweet that he gave them to you instead of keeping it for his own collection. Had he even been keeping anything for himself since he met you?

Your heart felt full as you closed the drawer and looked for the wine opener. Hawks was already so sweet and somehow this odd quirk of his added on to it.

Returning to the balcony you sat down next to him handing him his glass before pulling him in for a deep kiss. Your free hand tangled in his feathers and you could feel him sigh against your lips.

“What was that for?” He questioned pulling back with pink cheeks and a content smirk.

“Nothing, I just really like you.” You smiled.

“Well, I really like you too.” He said before pulling you in for another kiss.

“So I gave her this shiny rock and she was so happy, I love the way she smiles when I give her stuff.” Hawks gushed about you to Mirko often. The rabbit hero was patient in listening to him but would often roll her eyes at how head over heels he was.

“Wait, so you’re telling me the kind of gifts you’ve been giving her are shiny rocks and marbles?” She questioned. “Please don’t tell me you’ve stolen french fries from tourists to give to her.” Hawks gave her a questioning look.

“I always give her the shiny stuff I find now.” He said.

“And she hasn’t dumped you?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Wow, she must really like like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“A lot of girls like shiny things but they usually prefer bracelets, necklaces, rings, or even cars if you’re really trying to spoiler her. Maybe a designer pair of shoes or a purse.” She said thoughtfully. “Most girls would have left by now if they were given shiny debris from their boyfriend.”

Hawks stood there frozen trying to process what she was saying.

“Trust me, I get it, Hawks. The animal tendencies can be strong but you have to recognize them and adjust. Find a way to fill that urge but in a way that your partner will appreciate more.”

“I didn’t even realize it.” Hawks said in a quiet voice. “Oh no she’s probably hated all the stuff I’ve been giving her and has just been nice to me.” He groaned.

Mirko patted him on the shoulder.

“Happens to the best of us. I nibbled on my first crushes sleeve. There are some things you’ll never forget how embarrassing they were.” She sighed, staring off in her memory.

“That’s rough.” Hawks said. “I’m just glad you told me before she got too weirded out. I really like her, I don’t want to ruin it with her.”

“That’s what friends are for to help you with your blind spots.” She explained. “And Hawks, if she stuck around this long I don’t think you’re scaring her off with shiny marbles.” She teased.

Hawks felt so embarrassed. He had no relationship experience. His childhood had not been a normal one, he didn’t go to middle school or high school. He didn’t go on awkward dates or take someone to prom. It was uncharted territory. He never even intended on dating anyone his life was too complicated then he met you and every excuse he had to date someone was out the window.

He had to make it up to you, he had to explain himself but he was trying to figure out the best way to do that. He recalled you telling him a story about earrings that you had really wanted to buy once at a boutique on vacation but you had ended up not buying them for one reason or another. He had made note of that hoping to look for one similar to what you described but hadn’t gotten around to it.

Now was finally his time, surprisingly it wasn’t that hard to find something that matched your description. He hoped it was close enough for you. Hawks texted you asking if he could come over tonight when you were home and you agreed.

After patrol, he picked up your favorite take out and headed over to your place. He landed on the balcony walking in as you told him he could. You sat on the couch wearing a cute pair of sweatpants and a sweater.

“Hey, babe.” You said standing up and walking over to him, greeting him with a kiss.

“Hey, little bird.” He said returning the kiss.

“Is that what I think it is?” You questioned.

“Your favorite.” He smiled. The two of you sat down at the couch opening up the bag of food and digging in.

“What’s the special occasion?” You asked as you finished up your food.

“I wanted to talk.” He answered, immediately he saw you face drop. “Nothing bad, I promise.”

“Oh.” You sighed in relief.

“Actually I wanted to apologize.” He started, his wings looked tense.

“For what?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The gifts I’ve given you, my friend pointed out that they’re weird and not something you should give your girlfriend.

“Hawks-” You tried to interrupt but he continued.

“I’m sorry, it’s just something I’ve done since I was a kid. I see something shiny and I take it, I’ve had a collection forever and I don’t know I never questioned it until Mirko pointed it out. I just would always get so excited when I saw stuff I kept it. When I started dating you I’d see something and I would think this is so pretty I have to share it with her, I don’t want to keep it to myself-”

“Hawks.” You said taking his hand in yours. “Don’t apologize. Look.”

He watched as you leaned to your coffee table grabbing the small box on it and setting it in between the two of you. Opening it he realized it was full of all the things he had given you.

“I’ll admit I was a little confused at first but even then I saw how happy you were and it was so cute. How could I deny or be upset about you giving me something that made you so happy.” You explained, brushing your hand over the piece of sea glass he gave you. “Eventually I figured it out, I saw the drawer at your place and I put it together. Honestly, the fact that you gave me these means far more than expensive jewelry would mean to me.”

Hawks stared at you in disbelief. How had he ever found someone as amazing as you? He fought the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes. You had understood him without him ever having to explain.

“Actually, I just remembered.” You said standing up and moving to your purse by the door. You looked through it for a moment before finding what you were looking for. Sitting down you held your hand out presenting a shiny vintage key. “I saw this today at a little store I stopped at on my break. I don’t know if it will fit into your collection but-”

Before you could even finish your sentence Hawks had nearly tackled you into a kiss. His arms wrapped around you pulling you close as his wings fluttered. He pulled back looking into your eyes.

“I love you.” The words came out before he could stop them. He already felt so much for you but this had pushed it over the edge.

“Keigo, I-I love you too.” You returned not expecting anything that had just happened.

“I got you a gift, a proper gift this time.” He said reaching into his pocket. “The earrings you talked about, I hope they are close enough to the ones you wanted.”

“Keigo, they’re perfect.” You said pulling him in for another kiss. “Thank you.”

Hawks was more than just a pretty face and you had seen through that. Getting to know him, the real him, not the person the media presented or the child that had been raised into a weapon, was something you had enjoyed. Not only did you get to know the real Hawks but you had fallen deeply in love with him, bird traits, and all.

taglist:  @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bakugousidehoe @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh  @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia

[myckicade]

Prompt: Ok so we all know Coco is touch starved, and would be clingy af in a relationship. What about Coco x wife!reader, while she’s trying to do basic errands/chores and Coco is her shadow?

A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one. I really have. Hee hee. I just adore Coco. <3 . This piece sort of follows the story of the last two Coco x Reader pieces I have written, but it will stand-alone, just fine. And, I swear, these things just have a mind of their own. I can continue to apologize for length, and content, but, in the end... I let the story tell itself. ;) . <3 .

As a warning, I come from Vermont, where we have a plastic bag ban. Last I knew, California was the first state to have one. I don’t know how that would translate to Santo Padre, but… When I mention fabric bags, I mean reusables, and the ban is why. ^^;;;;.

Title: Worthwhile

Teaser: He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it.

“Okay…” you murmur, slowly, eyes scanning over the paper in front of you. Fifteen items, nothing crazy. Shouldn’t take you more than an hour, tops, and that includes travel to and from the store. “I think I’ve got everything we need… And, specials included your beer, and those little frozen cream puffs.”

Beside you, Coco groans, deep and guttural. “Fuck, I love those things.”

You giggle, but keep reading. Your man is too damn cute. “Feminine products.”

“Do those count as special?” Coco genuinely sounds thoughtful, as he steps up behind you, where you are leaning over the counter top. He wraps his arms around your waist, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Kinda’ a necessity, ain’t they?”

Tipping your head, you glance to your husband. Seriously. This man is a treasure. “Why don’t you run for political office?” you tease, pleased when Coco chuckles.

“Yeah, my record’ll look great, on the campaign trail.”

You shrug. “You can tackle pink tax, and tax evasion, at the same time.”

Coco grins, and steals a peck off your lips. “What else you got on there, muñeca?”

“Hmmm, let’s see…” You turn back to your list, tapping the pen against your lips, thoughtfully. Spying the next item on it, you try not to let out another giggle. He’s not going to like this one. “Letty asked if we could have that cauliflower pizza thing for dinner, tonight.”

As expected, this groan is decidedly not from food lust. “Fuckin’ vegetarians. When the hell is she gonna’ get over this shit?”

“It’s just a phase, Coco,” you remind him, for the… Well, honestly, you’ve lost track. It started shortly after the wedding, Letty’s change in diet, and you’re still not convinced the two aren’t related. You’re just not entirely sure how. But, two months in, and she’s still looking healthy, so you won’t send up any alarms. “It’s very popular at her high school, right now.”

Coco scoffs, disgusted. “When the hell’d she start copyin’ other people, anyway? My girl ain’t no follower.”

The words send a shot straight to your heart. He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it. The love he has for Leticia is the greatest proof. They may carry on like cats and dogs, but when push comes to shove, there is nothing they won’t do for one another. My girl. It brings a warmth to your soul, and a smile to your lips.

You shake it off, enough to formulate a response. “She’s figuring out how to be her own woman. Trying new things.” You shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of it. You were Letty’s age, once, of course. And, a girl, to boot. Some things, Coco just won’t be able to understand. “It’s a process.” He hums, still disgruntled, but doesn’t push out another word. “You want anything else?” you ask, holding up your list. “I’ve gotta’ get going, before I run into the football widows.”

Before you can even take a step away, Coco tightens his arms around you. “You sure you gotta’ go, though?” he asks, leaning in to brush his lips against your neck. “With the house all to ourselves, like this?”

“If I don’t go,” you start, as Coco’s touches gain intent, becoming teasing kisses. Damn him. It feels nice, you won’t lie, but there are other things on your mind, right now. Priorities.

You’re just… having trouble remembering what they are.

Oh. Yeah. Shopping.

“If I don’t go, we won’t have anything for dinner.”

Another kiss, accompanied by a barely-there swipe of tongue. You shiver, and Coco moves his lips to your ear. “We can order in,” he whispers, breath so invitingly warm against your skin.

Oh, this asshole.

“And, what are we supposed to have for breakfast, tomorrow?” you try, again. “Half an Eggo, and a pack of Skittles?”

Coco cuddles you closer, again. “Ain’t you never heard about livin’ on love, baby?” Some of his smoothest work, that is. And, it’s almost convincing. Almost. You can imagine the afternoon ahead, if you give in. Your clothes will come off, and won’t be back on until the last second, before Letty walks back through the front door. By that time, you’ll be too tired to roll your ass off the bed, let alone go grocery shopping. And, you promised Letty you’d talk Coco into that cauliflower pizza.

“Great as that sounds,” you agree, preparing to capitalize on the truth. You ease yourself away from Coco’s stubborn hold, and give him one more smooch, just to soften the blow to come. “I don’t think Letty will appreciate the sentiment.”

A third groan. You must be going for a record. “C’mon, (y/n).” Oh, he’s whining. It’s so cute, it’s unreal. “We’ll find some place that delivers that rabbit food shit.”

Unfortunately for Coco, you’re already grabbing your bag. Lucky for you. You’re still two seconds from giving him what he wants. (He just doesn’t need to know so). “I’ll be back in a while.” God willing. “If you think of anything else, call my cell.” You rush out the front door, and don’t look back. If you see the look on your husband’s face, you know you’re as good as done.

*

Well, what the shit? Coco stares at the front door as it closes, you on the wrong fucking side of it. His arms are at his sides, palms turned toward the ceiling. That went so well. He kind of can’t believe you just walked away, like that. Left him alone, and wanting. In your big, empty house.

He probably should have volunteered to tag along, instead of just chasing you off.

Fuck.

Glancing around, Coco tries to find something to do. Something to clean, at the very least. But, that’s the trouble with having moved in with you, after the wedding, he supposes. Ain’t nothing to tidy up. Not that the three of you don’t have possessions. They’re all just in their proper places. Probably Leticia’s doing, in the end. He’d had a long talk with her, before the move, that she absolutely has to keep her shit where it belongs. Your house isn’t like their house. There aren’t burn marks in the carpet, or gouges in the coffee table. Dishes go in the damned dishwasher, not left to pile up on the counter, or in the sink. Beds get made. Laundry gets folded, and put away. No more wrinkled heaps in the clothes basket. So far, the kid’s been doing good. Real good.

Coco, though? He’s never felt so unnerved in his life.

It was different when he just visited. Spent a night or two, here or there. He’d almost felt at home, then, stupid as it sounds. At home, with the knowledge he wasn’t staying. But, now? Now, the reality has settled in, and he feels so-so… out of place. There’s so much he’s struggling to adjust to.

You have a purified water system installed under the sink, where Coco is used to buying bottled water.

You have a dining room, where Coco and Letty are used to eating on the couch.

You have an extended cable package, whatever the fuck that is.

You kind of have it all, here, certainly by comparison to what Coco is used to. The best of everything. Which really makes him wonder – not for the first time – what the hell you’re doing with a dirt-poor biker for a husband? You’ve had this conversation, on multiple occasions, and you’ve explained yourself, every time. But, this time… This time, you’re not around to give that speech. You’re not around to hold him, and kiss his face, and reassure him in a way that only you can. No, you’re at the grocery store, shopping for Coco, and his kid, which was apparently a better offer than staying home with him.

Oh, nope. Nope, he’s doing it, again. He can feel it. You love him, he reminds himself. You’ve got his ring on your finger, his last name, and – God-willing – his baby in your belly. By choice. All by choice.

Coco takes a deep breath, in. Lets it back out, slowly. Tries not to get sick, for all the nerves coming up to greet him. He wraps one arm around his own torso, free hand moving up to cover his mouth.

Fuck, he hopes you get back, soon.

*

You let out a deep sigh, as you park your car in the garage. Oh, it is so good to be home, at long-last. Talk about Old Home Week. You’d run into everyone, and his brother, at the grocery store. Shopping had taken nearly twice as long as you’d meant for it to, and you just know Coco must be losing his mind, by now. You hate to think about it, in such terms, but, sometimes… Well, sometimes, Coco reminds you of a new puppy. You can’t really leave him alone, without some kind of separation anxiety creeping up on him.

Ah, well. At least he isn’t ripping down the drapes, and shredding the couch cushions.

You blink. Well. That you know of.

Shaking your head, you climb out of the car, mentally preparing to unload armloads of bags. Maybe, if you really, really try, today will be the day you can finally get all twenty bags in, in one trip.

Right. And, shortly thereafter, you can have both forearms set, and casted. Be a real turn-on, in the bedroom.

You’ve managed to grab half a dozen bags, when the door to the mud room opens. “Hey, don’t grab too many!” Letty warns, as she comes hopping down the steps. “Let us help!”

Glancing up, you smile. For having had such a rough start, Letty can be a sweet girl. You know she gets that from her father. “Well, thank you,” you reply, resting a few, fabric handles onto her outstretched hands.

Letty grins, lowering her hands to her sides, before leaning in. “Did you talk him into it?” she whispers, conspiratorially.

You snicker, and whisper back, “He isn’t getting a choice. He’s outnumbered.”

“Yes!” Her hiss of victory is hardly subtle, catching Coco’s attention as he pokes his head out the door.

“You two plottin’ against me, again?”

“Yes,” you and Letty reply, in unison, leading you to erupt into a fit of giggles.

Coco is all grins. “’Course, you are.” He strides closer, he and Letty dancing around one another as she moves into the house. You lean into the car, and retrieve a few more bags. If Coco’s out here, he might as well assist. He’s peering into the car, once you stand back up, and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, (y/n)! You buy out the whole store, or what?”

“Hardly,” you reply, dryly. You hold up your hands, offering Coco the bags. “Here you go.”

“Oh, don’t mind if I do.” Thankfully, your hold on the bags is solid. Instead of grabbing the groceries, Coco’s hands are suddenly groping all over you. One hand is settled firmly at your ass, the other sliding into your hair, at the back of your head. He wastes no time diving in for a slow, deep kiss, and, damn, does his timing suck. He could have at least let you put the bags down, first. The contact makes you tingle, and has you regretting your decision not to stay home. Coco pulls back, after a few seconds, and hums. “Mm. Best delivery ever.”

You can’t help the small snort of amused laughter that leaves your throat. “Good try, Coco,” you praise, easing back far enough to offer him the bags, again. The look of disappointment on his face is just pitiful. “I’m not banging you in the garage.”

He has the grace to mock gasp. “I’d never!” It’s a crock, and you both know it. He looks too amused to be repentant, and you look too aware to be angry. You just raise your hands, slightly, in a third offer. Coco sighs. “All right. All right.” He takes the bags from your hands.

“Thank you.” You grab another load for yourself, rounding the open car door to follow Coco’s lead, into the house. One more trip for each of you, and you should have it covered. So much for only buying fifteen items.

Coco might be right about buying out the store.

*

Watching from the dining room, Coco has a good view of you and Letty unpacking the last of the groceries. Damn kid, she’d thrown him out, about ten minutes prior.

“Less groping, more helping, Coco,” Letty had warned him, after he’d tried to pin you against the sink.

It had been his last warning. Now, he’s been banished. Not the worst thing in the world, not really. Over the last few weeks, he’s really learned that there are some tasks he’s not so fond of. Pruning roses… Yeah, he’s pretty sure you’ll never let him do that, again. And, hey, nobody told him what to fill the bird feeder with. Unpacking groceries goes on that list, somewhere between line-drying laundry, and a streak-free mirror. He’s not sure why. Goodness knows, it makes him feel like a kid at Christmas, most times. Since being with you, though…

Since being with you, he feels like he’s taking advantage of something.

Yes, groceries are a strange place to let that feeling land, but he can’t help it. Coco’s been responsible for feeding himself since before he cares to remember. The only time anyone provided his meals was during deployment, and half that shit barely passed for edible. You, though… You keep the house stocked with more food than he’s seen anywhere, outside of a corner market. Letty always has options to take to school, and there’s a nutritious dinner on the table, almost every night. (Some nights, he actually does win the battle for delivery). If Coco goes on a run, you send him along with snacks for the road. And, yeah, he kinda’ likes that. He also likes the energy bars you picked out for him, last week. Something with cherries, and dark chocolate. He wonders, for a second, if you picked up any more. Come in handy during his mid-week trip outta’ town.

Coco blinks. Then, he does it again, just for good measure. That’s it. That’s what’s so fucking weird about this whole thing.

It’s you.

Okay, no, it’s not you, you. But, it’s you. It’s you, taking care of him. It’s you, seeing to his needs. Letty’s needs. It’s you, being his wife, his partner. It’s you, slotting into the place of role-model for his teenaged daughter. Welcoming them into your home. Not treating it like it’s your home. It’s you, being so fucking perfect for him, it’s taken his mind all this time to catch up with reality.

Coco doesn’t get perfect. Perfect doesn’t want him.

Except, now, it does.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Coco strides into the kitchen. He doesn’t wait for you to put the box of pasta in the cupboard. He just takes it from your hand, ignoring your confused look, as he tosses it onto the counter.

“Coco!” Letty admonishes, but it’s no use. He’s already lifting you off the floor, arms around your perfect backside. The kid gives a long-suffering sigh, he hears it, but pays it no mind.

Nothing – nothing – is going to keep him from holding you in his arms.

Your own arms go around Coco’s neck, and you smile down at him, surprise still lingering in your eyes. “Uhm… Hi, there.”

Coco grins. “Hey, muñeca.” Leaning up, he pecks you on the lips.

“Can I help you with something?” you ask, to which Coco shakes his head. Closes his eyes, as your fingers play in his hair.

“Nah. Got all I need.”

*

Pulling a package of mixed vegetables from the half-unpacked shopping bag, Letty rolls her eyes. You two… God, you’re gross. Coco always has his hands on you, no matter what you’re trying to do. It’s a wonder you don’t carry a damned fly swatter around. Actually, it’s a wonder you ever accomplish anything. He’s always smooching, and smiling, and snuggling at you. It’s disgusting. It’s pathetic.

It’s so damned cute, it’s sickening.

Really, Letty’s enjoying seeing Coco so happy. Like, genuinely happy. Not the false pride he carries around with his kutte. He’s more relaxed, nowadays. He drinks less, and he spends more time at home, both of which mean he’s not hanging around with those skanks at the clubhouse. He eats more, he’s healthier… Nothing to complain about, there.

And, hey, she has no complaints about you, either. You’re pretty cool, all-around. A woman who takes care of herself, and her family, and doesn’t bitch about either one. You’re not using Coco for money, or status, none of the shit she’s always been worried her father would fall into. There aren’t arguments, every night, not even between herself and Coco, as of late. No hostilities, nothing to avoid the house over. Just good dinners, and movies, and a new fish tank in her room. (Okay, so, you’d earned some major points with that birthday gift. She hadn’t actually expected to get one, when she’d mentioned it). For the first time, she understands what a peaceful, happy family feels like. It feels nice. It feels like home.

Glancing back to where Coco now has you perched on the counter top, stealing the most syrupy-sweet smooches… Letty can’t help but smile. Home is A-okay by her.

*

The sound of the air conditioner humming in the bedroom usually lulls you right to sleep. Tonight, it’s just providing you with white noise, a low background track to your thoughts. You don’t mind, not really. It gives you a few minutes to reflect on the day that’s just ended. To plan your day, tomorrow. To weave your fingers through Coco’s hair, and listen to him breathe. That, alone, makes it worthwhile.

Coco has been asleep against your shoulder for nearly an hour, now. Your arms are wrapped around him, comfortably, his own around your waist. You’d urged him up to bed, after he’d fallen asleep on the couch, his head in your lap. He’d snoozed from the middle of the movie, to the end of the nightly news report. Letty had tsked, and complained that no one had any business, whatsoever, in falling asleep during Zombieland. (How he’d stayed asleep was still a wonder to you, both, for how hard you’d been laughing at Tallahassee). With your fingers in his hair, Coco had been blissfully unaware for a couple of hours.

Glancing down, you take in the sight of your husband’s sleeping face. He looks so damn peaceful, the kind you’d outright murder to preserve for him. Coco’s still struggling with sleep, and relaxation, even though you’d hoped it would ease up, once your nuptials had passed. Most of it, you know will never go away. Anxiety doesn’t have a magic wand, or some perfect little on/off switch. And, all things considered, today wasn’t a terrible day. You’d been able to leave the house, with minimal panic on Coco’s part. Granted, it had taken extra time to get the groceries put away, and dinner made, but… You understand, as much as you are able to, that Coco needs the reassurances. It doesn’t cost you anything to carve a few moments from the day, every here and there, to give him what he needs.

Okay, so it did cost you that first batch of pancakes, this morning. They’d burned on the stove, and set off the smoke alarms, when he’d insisted on a dance through the living room. But, Coco loved the song you’d been playing on your Spotify, so there was really no denying him.

Oh, and… Yeah, you’d missed that phone call from the bank, the week before. Your husband had slipped up next to you, on the porch swing, and snuggled you to within an inch of your life. An easy fix, and you still got the business loan, but…

And, sure, you’ve been late to work, on numerous occasions. Coco has a habit of sneaking into your morning shower. And, after that… Well, hell, you own the company. It’s not like you have to explain to the boss that you’re late to your shift, on account of baby-dancing. (Fucking forums).

Point is, you’re more than happy to take care of Coco’s emotional needs. It may take you an extra hour to pay your bills. Daily tidying may have become every-other-day-if-you’re-lucky tidying. And, your ass may have gone numb, tonight, while he slept on your thigh. During which time, you could have loaded the dishwasher. Taken out the trash. Any number of tasks that have been neglected, in the name of Coco. They can wait.

Leaning in, you press a tender kiss to your husband’s forehead, before settling back in, and closing your eyes. Yes, chores can wait. Work can wait. The whole world can hold it, with both hands. So long as you’re around, Coco’s well-being will never have to take the back seat.

*

P.S. If Coco denies it, he’s full of it. He fucking loved that cauliflower pizza. Fucking vegetarians, indeed.

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[madamedevien]

Infernal Heat

Hey! It’s been a while - I really miss you guys.  Anyway, I know that a lot of you were keeping up to date with my Mammon x GN! Reader fic...while I’m updating it regularly on my AO3, I thought that I’d post the chapters that I’ve got here as well. I’m planning for it to be a 4 chapter fic, but let’s see how that goes! Warnings in tags (both here and AO3) - monster fucking comes into play much more come Chapter 3 and 4. The biggest thanks to @mawwart for their inspiration and @popcherrypop for reading over what I had all those months ago and actually helping me find direction. I’ve got a bigger/cheesier spiel on AO3, but anyway. Fingers crossed that the ‘Keep Reading’ line shows up here...

Chapter 1: Embers

The Great Mammon had woken up in a mood. He'd felt this creeping up for days now and he wished that it would just come and go already. It was hella distracting to have a constant tug of warmth and want in your gut, y'know? And it was annoying to feel the incessant need to primp and to add to the nest of pillows, blankets, sentimental and decorative items that now overtook most of his bed. But he was due a heat cycle. Annoyingly, he felt that it was probably going to settle in properly on that particular day and he'd been wrangled into going shopping by you. And for whatever reason he'd agreed. Not because he had a crush on you or anything. Damn, he couldn't even remember what you two were meant to be shopping for, that's how addled his mind was. Mammon really just wanted to stay put and perfect his nest. Maybe show it off to you. Although he wasn't sure if you'd appreciate the fact that he'd stolen a few items of yours while on laundry duty to tuck into said nest. Or that he wanted to maybe do something kind of nasty to a piece of your clothing. If not you. 

But would you want to? To see his nest? To lay in it, lay with him, to mate with him? He wanted you to. So very, very badly. He didn’t feel like he deserved you but, oh, to say that he wanted you was a vast understatement. Fuck. 

He groaned and threw one of his tanned arms over his eyes. The silveret realised that he was going to have to partially dislodge his beautiful nest to pull out Goldie (he couldn't go shopping without her - the very thought was offensive!) and that he was going to have to get rid of his raging boner before he faced you. 

So into a cold shower he trudged, loudly cursing the whole time.

---

Longest shopping trip in fucking history. 

It seemed like you were in need of freakin' everything imaginable. He wasn't to know that you were actually just taking your time because it'd been a while since the two of you had some time to yourselves. The demon had been acting strangely around you the past few days, although he was completely oblivious to just how weird it’d been for you.

And today, the Avatar of Greed just wasn't engaging. Questions went unanswered, as if he hadn't heard even when clearly looking at you, no boasting or sulking occurred, no bets or harebrained schemes hatched...he didn't even take you up on your offer of Hell Sauce Noodles! The demon was completely disinterested in all of this - the only thing he was interested in was you. He was also trying very very hard not to let his thoughts slip into anything inappropriate. Which was probably the single most difficult thing he’d had to do in all of his many years. Mammon wanted to take your hand and lace your fingers together; to shamelessly nuzzle your cheek in front of everyone on Silent Avenue. The thought made his heart swell. Better yet, if you were mated, he could kiss you in front of the whole crowd before publicly mounting you and-

Damn, it was hard to keep lewd thoughts at bay. He could feel his cheeks burning and looked away when your concerned expression turned to him. 

On the trek home (finally!), he fell into a lazy pace behind you and Mammon couldn’t help it as you walked together. His cerulean gaze raked over the beautiful curve in your neck - the space was perfect. In his mind, he could see how perfectly his head would fit and how the mark he could leave there would only accentuate the beauty of your skin. It’d be a gorgeous brand that would loudly proclaim to all, ‘I am mated to THE Great Mammon, the Avatar of Greed and Second of the Seven; don’t you dare even think to touch me’. The very notion only caused the flush of heat over his skin to worsen and his breath to hitch; he wanted to tear into his flesh to relieve himself of the insufferable and fiery itch.

The same thoughts washed over his brain again and again like some cruel tide, even once you'd passed through the doors of the House of Lamentation.

It took only a scant moment. He didn’t even think. The silver haired demon was aware that he was losing his mind due to his damned biology, but he didn’t realise that he was so far gone that he would do something so stupid. It was only your screech that alerted him to the fact that he had pulled you tight to his chest, that he was actually in the process of sinking sharp fangs into your supple skin. The sudden realisation made him tear off of you in surprise. 

Beel had been the first to burst through a doorway and into the corridor. The redhead stopped dead in his tracks and stared wide-eyed at the two of you; you with your hand clamped over the section of your neck that had been bitten, and Mammon an arm’s length away from with a look of abject horror painted over his handsome features. Stupid Mammon, indeed. The next to burst in was Lucifer, who looked ready for a proper melee. The sound that had come from you had genuinely startled the older brother, not that he’d admit that if asked. As his garnet gaze took in the scene before him, his mouth twisted unpleasantly. “Mammon…” Lucifer’s voice was dangerously low. Mammon shook his head urgently in response, “Nonono, Luci, it didn’t - I mean, yeah, it is what it looks like an’ I didn’t mean ta, but it...it’s not deep enough. Y’know?” The second brother sounded desperate. Mammon anxiously twisted his rings around his tanned fingers and had to fight back the tears that threatened the edges of his vision. He could have hurt you. “Oh, I think you’ll find that it’s more than deep enough.” Lucifer stalked toward you and put his hand on top of the one you were using to cover your wound. “Let me see how much damage the fool inflicted on you”. Mammon could see the frown that pulled at your mouth as you revealed the bite mark to his brother. No proper damage - the indents might linger, but no blood had been drawn; no skin had been broken. 

“It was more from the surprise than pain, Lucifer. I just wasn’t expecting someone to bite me, you know? That’s the kind of thing that I’d expect more from a very hungry Beel.” Your attempt to lighten the mood only made the Avatar of Pride’s expression sour further - but Beel muttered a small, “Fair”. Lucifer sounded positively glacial when he spoke again. “Beelzebub, please take our brother to his room." The Avatar of Gluttony nodded solemnly, gently taking the second eldest’s shoulder. Mammon stared miserably at the floor, guilt clearly written on his flushed face although he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He didn’t trust himself to. Not after such a stupid stunt. As the other two made their way up the stairs, Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose. 

This wouldn’t be pleasant.

--

It was no surprise to Mammon that Lucifer texted him shortly after the whole ordeal. He was just thankful that Lucifer hadn’t decided to come up to his room and literally tear into him after biting you. Of all the people to bite in the entire Devildom, it just had to be you didn’t it? Lucifer: Mammon. I have strictly instructed the household that you are not to be disturbed until I have given the all clear. You will stay in your room and I will bring you provisions at regular intervals. If you need anything, you will let me know. Are we clear? Mammon: Yes. Lucifer: Good. He waited, hopeful that Lucifer would provide an update on you. After an eon of waiting (which was actually all of seven minutes) he decided to ask. Mammon: Are they okay?

Lucifer: They are. And they will continue to be so long as you stay in your room and do not venture out. Ensure that you lock your door and remember to take your pheromone blockers as well or the whole house will reek of your mating scent. What were brothers for, if not a good motivational speech? --- Chapter 2: Flames Even with Lucifer’s reminder, Mammon had forgotten to take the pheromone blockers and to lock the door. He’d been far too distracted; worrying about your state of health, whether he’d damaged your relationship beyond repair, still trying to keep the lewd thoughts at bay, his instincts fretting over the piece of nest that had been dismantled earlier… It was a lot to be preoccupied with, okay? Without the pheromone blockers, the corridor outside of Mammon’s room was thick with the sweet perfume of a demonic male in heat. It was rich and cloying, the kind of scent that would cling to one’s clothes much to the annoyance of the other residents (Asmodeus excluded).  Mammon, however, didn’t care. He was too busy now attempting to cool the heat in the pit of his stomach and to regain some clarity of mind. An attempt at sleep had been made once his nest had been repaired and Goldie tucked into her rightful place, the lights turned down low and his clothes discarded to some far corner so that he could crawl into the nest in a comfortable state...but how could he sleep when obscene images of you kept popping into his head?  At first, he had tried to keep some semblance of his mind. The demon didn’t like to lose control during his heats. If he could keep his mind, he would keep to his more humanoid forms - and that was what he wanted. Because if you did, by chance, happen upon him...well. He didn’t want to scare you. Before he allowed himself to spiral into the anxiety of your imagined reaction, he reached for his ridiculously large bottle of lube. If he was going to dwell on the thought of anything, it was going to be how good he knew you’d feel… --- Mammon wouldn’t have been able to say how much time had passed. He had brought himself to orgasm more times than he could count - but it only seemed to just take off the edge. A demon’s heat was never an easy thing, but why was this time around so damn difficult?  Satan would have been able to answer that with ease, the smug bastard; if a demon chooses a mate they will, naturally, be most inclined to couple with said mate for optimal breeding. To not couple with a chosen mate could make a heat worse - but to withhold coupling at all? Well, it would be a foolish endeavour.  The Avatar of Greed hadn’t realised just how he was slipping ; wings and horns had appeared without him even registering and his fangs had dropped to a predatory length (which he only noticed when he had apparently attempted to put a mating mark on a pillow covered in one of your stolen shirts that he’d been desperately rutting against, much to his embarrassment).  His breathing was rough. Mammon was equal parts exhausted and invigorated. He wanted nothing more than to let his knees fall out from under him so that sleep would hopefully take him - he wanted to stalk down the hall and into your room and fuck you senseless. And if Lucifer found out? Well, Mammon would love to see him try to pry you from his arms.  The very thought made him snarl, his grip on his cock tightening. It was enraging to even think that his brother would dare, a thought that had him so preoccupied that he didn’t hear the door click open.  His blue eyes slipped over to you and the wet sound of him furiously fucking his fist stopped abruptly. It was impossible to tell which one of you was redder. This was not what he had been expecting. “Uh-” A rasp of your name interrupted you. “Didn’t Lucifer tell you not to come?” He watched as you nodded dumbly, “Yes”. Heavy breath was the only noise to pass between you several beats. The demon in front of you was wondering whether this was fate; you weren’t running, you looked interested and, fuck, you smelled so good. You smelled aroused and it made him growl; “C’mere then”. The way that you slammed the door and scampered toward him practically had him preening in pleasure. Just as eager, Mammon scrambled over to meet you, flustered yet excited, and hauled you up close to him. He bumped your foreheads together. From here it was easy to see how incredibly blown his pupils were, to feel how desperately ragged his breathing was. You were dangerously close. “Now, see here, I'm gonna give ya one chance to go. ‘Cause if I kiss ya, I’m not gonna be able to stop. I won’t be able to let ya go. You’ll be stuck with me for the whole fuckin’ ride, ya hear?” Holy shit, his voice was so strained. “Then kiss me, you dummy.” No repeat was necessary. Mammon threaded his fingers into your hair, hesitating for only the briefest moment before pressing his lips to yours. When you responded in kind his fervour, his deep rooted greed, quickly followed. He’d wanted to kiss you from day one and not a moment had gone by since  without him imagining it. This felt so incredibly right. But he couldn’t ignore the heat curling in his gut. He needed you, wanted you. And as far as he could tell, despite the dark whispers in the back of his mind saying otherwise, you seemed to feel the same.The way that you returned his greedy kisses, how your fingers had twisted sharply in his hair, how you didn’t seem to mind the messy clicking of his elongated fangs against your blunt teeth as he tried to figure out how best to navigate your mouth in this form - how could he deny that he was wanted?  Mammon's only regret when looking back on this evening with you would be not savouring your body laid bare for him for the first time. His mind was too heat-addled to appreciate it; he was unable to slowly peel off your layers and to have the sentiment returned in kind as he had previously fantasised about. In his mind’s eye, he had a whole big romantic gesture planned if you had decided to sleep with him. Previously, he had imagined how he would make love to you and treasure every moment of it...but alas… Your clothes were quickly stripped from you, sharp fangs nipping at new skin as it was exposed. There was no delicate treatment here and he paid no heed to the sound of torn material. When he next plundered your mouth, it was far smoother than the first time - he was a fast learner, after all.  The only complaint that he had about kissing you was that it muffled those beautiful noises of yours. When he broke the seal of your mouths it was to gently toss you back toward the top of the bed, deeper into his nest and into the comfort of a ridiculous amount of pillows - to properly secure you into his nest. To see you like that felt...good. It felt right. It was clear that was exactly where you belonged. The very image had him growling in satisfaction as he took the opportunity to crawl over your body, his fingers gripping at the meat of your thighs and hips as if ensuring that you were truly there with him. Thankfully, his nails had not yet turned into talons or they would have pierced through you with ease at the way that he handled your flesh.  Mammon had to take a deep breath when he looked at you this time. He needed to make sure that he didn’t hurt you while doing this - it was the last thing in the world that he wanted. It was unusual for the Avatar of Greed to put the needs of others before his own...but you weren’t just some ‘other’. You were you. His very own treasure, his very own mate. Reluctantly, a hand left your body to fish for something buried within the nest. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” He coated his fingers generously in lube, desperate to ensure that he would cause as little pain as possible, “Just fuckin’ perfect”. Two fingers slipped into you as Mammon spoke, his tone low and hoarse. Never had he imagined just how difficult it would be to hold himself back like this, nor could he have been prepared for just how much desire he felt in that moment. The sensation of your hot core wrapped around his fingers had him shamelessly rutting against your thigh, a poor attempt at taking the edge off of his lust.  A human really had no business wrecking him like this. His heat cycles were normally pretty boring - desperate rutting for a day or two and then back to normal life. You had no right to set his skin aflame like this, no right to have him feel like he could cum just from the noise you made once he had three fingers fucking into your heat. The way his blood was rushing in his ears was deafening...and he wanted more. It didn’t take too long for it all to get too much. Even all of the dark hickies that he had furiously littered your neck, chest and shoulders with weren’t enough to distract him from the wet sound of his fingers preparing you or the stunning sounds he managed to pull from you when he got the angle of his hand just right.  Mammon would never admit it, but he kind of missed his target. The point of removing his hand from you had been to slip himself right in. Instead, as he kissed you he rolled his slick cock against your sex...which, to be fair, had felt better than your thigh. And if the sound that you’d made in response was anything to go by, you thought so too.  He liked that noise. A lot. So he rolled his hips against you again, groaning in response to you. Ever eager to please, the greedy demon found a rhythm that you both seemed to enjoy in the interim. “Ya like that, huh?” Mammon wasn’t sure where the cockiness in his tone was coming from when internally he felt so nervous. It was those very nerves that quickly had his hand moving to guide his cock to your entrance and thrusting into you before you could retort. Mammon didn’t realise it would silence both of you.  By no means was he a virgin. The Great Mammon would have it known that he was a proper Casanova type, thank you very much. He just didn’t realise how different it would feel coupling with someone that he truly and deeply loved. The heat causing that deep need to breed the closest thing with a pulse didn’t help things, of course.  It was...incredible, for lack of a better word. Divine. Mammon choked on an Infernal curse once seated completely in you and had to literally bite his tongue to keep an anchor on his self-control.  All of that hard earned control was thrown out the window when his name passed your lips.  There was no hesitation in how his hips pistoned, fucking into you relentlessly. His hands manoeuvred to cradle the back of your knees and he pushed your legs back to allow him more access to your body, his fingers gripping hard enough to bruise. The noises that left him were snaps and snarls of Infernal praise, not that he realised. The only thought on Mammon’s mind was his primal objective of breeding you until neither of you could move ; it didn’t matter whether you could actually fall pregnant or not. No logic or worry clouded his mind with these thoughts. All he could focus on was filling you with his seed until he couldn’t any more, the thought of your stomach tender and round because of his affections toward his mate... Mammon’s first orgasm came with an embarrassing quickness. When he spilled inside of you, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh of your chest, he was quickly filled with a relief and warmth that he hadn’t felt in ages. For the first time since his heat had set in, there was true clarity in his mind. While his natural instincts weren’t completely quelled, it was enough for him to actually think with something other than his adamantly pulsing dick. His relief quickly fell to mortification, the shadows of which were clear on his features when he pulled back to look at you. His cheeks were tinted red both from exertion and embarrassment ; he hadn’t paid enough attention to get you to climax. He was quick to stutter out your name, mouth tripping on the words that were trying to get out of his mouth as his sluggishly content brain tried to supply words just beyond reach. “What, isn’t The Great Mammon going to make me cum?” Your sass fanned the flames in his loins. A playful snarl was made in response, “Oh sweetheart. I’m going to make you cum so fuckin’ hard you black out. You won’t be able to feel your legs by the time I’m done with you”. And so The Great Mammon set to work. --- Mammon hummed contentedly as you lazily played with the hair at the nape of his neck hours later. This was perfection. Strong fingers stroked your thighs as he enjoyed the sensation of you wrapped around his hips, the pleasure of you sat on his lap while cuddled up together in your nest. The demon toyed with the thought of pushing his hips up just to make you gasp from the overstimulation, but decided against it. Although he was loath to admit it, you needed rest - because Mammon had been good to his word, ensuring that you both had more than your fair share of orgasms.  But this was good. The fire in his gut had died down to crackling embers, although he knew it would flare up again soon - but you would be there to help ease him through it. And you even seemed to like helping him out. What was the phrase… ‘mutually beneficial’? Somethin’ like that. His eyes fluttered open when he heard your chuckle. He couldn’t help but wonder if you knew how freakin’ stunning you were when you smiled like that. “What?” When your eyes met his, he was pouting frowning. The laugh that you let out only made his brow furrow more, “I said what. What’s got ya laughin’ like that, huh? You should be out like a freakin’ light by now”. It wasn’t until you replied that he realised how obvious it was, “I didn’t know that demons could purr”. Mammon squawked loudly and attempted to divert your attention - he sounded like a damn motor! It wasn’t fair! He wasn’t even able to control the way he was going off… It was embarrassing. “Well, yeah, y’know, sometimes. We’re incredible ‘n mysterious creatures us demons, y’know! Demons are capable of things that your human mind couldn’t even comprehend! Anyway, ’s not like ’s all the time or anythin’ like that…” He tried to occupy himself and forget about the heat radiating from his face by playing with your hair - but he could feel you smiling against the crook of his neck. “Yeah?” “Yeah.” The incredible and mysterious demon sounded more like a petulant child (well, a purring and petulant child). “So, when do you normally purr?” “I dunno. When we’re happy, I guess?” “Does that mean I haven’t made you happy before?” The way that he spluttered was definitely worth teasing him. “Who said that ya haven’t made me happy?! ‘N besides, this is different!” Even Mammon couldn’t deny that he was now pouting, but he tried to focus on the feeling of your fingers running along his shoulders. It was nice; soothing, even. Until he felt a sharp tug on the back of his neck.  “Ouch! You gotta be more gentle than that!” The look of surprise on your face made him want to curl in on himself. “Mammon - are those feathers?” “Phffft,” The greedy demon rolled his eyes and tried to deflect your query, “Shaddap. You dunno what you’re talking ‘bout”.  When your mouth opened again, he did take the opportunity to thrust sharply into you. At the gasp, he lurched forward with a passionate kiss. Simply to shut you up, of course. No hidden agenda. His pleased purring melted into a deep rumbling, the fire in his belly stoking itself back to life. It was impossible for him not to roll you over to allow him to bask in more of your shared passion. The laughter that ensued, laughter that he was sure was aimed at him, only made his heart swell as much as his cock.

[junghelioseok]

guarded.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | bodyguard!au ◇ 1.6k [1/1]

notes: this is actually a repost of an old drabble from my two year anniversary, which was inadvertently deleted. so if it looks familiar, that’s why! i figured i’d give it a (super unoriginal) title and a quick reread before i reposted it, and this is the end result. to the anon who originally requested it, if you’re reading this, thank you and ily! 💕

the prompts i worked off of are below:

❛❛ good girl. ❜❜

❛❛ don’t get shy on me now. ❜❜

the vibe is this jk right here.

“If that will be all, Miss, I’ll leave you to get settled in.”

You remain silent. Reaching down, you unzip your suitcase before glancing over your shoulder at your loyal bodyguard, hovering near the door of your hotel room like an overgrown bat in his long black jacket and heavy black boots. Innocently, you smile at him as you begin to pull out your belongings, laying a few items onto the perfectly made bed.

“Can you help me unpack?”

His expression doesn’t change. But you’ve always prided yourself on your astuteness, and you certainly don’t miss the way his throat bobs as he swallows. Wordlessly, he steps across the room until he’s standing at your side, accepting the stack of folded skirts and pantsuits you hand over.

“Hang these up, will you, Jungkook?” you ask, keeping your voice syrupy sweet and as innocent as can be. “I don’t want them to wrinkle.”

Jungkook nods curtly and sweeps off. You watch as he slides open the closet door and lays the pile of clothes on the nearest chair, carefully hanging up each garment one by one. There’s the blue pantsuit for tomorrow’s meeting with the board of directors, there’s the champagne-colored gown for the investor’s gala afterward, and—

—aha.

You can see the way Jungkook stiffens even from across the room, his broad shoulders tensing. You’re pretty sure he’s not even breathing anymore, his tall frame frozen in place as he stares at the item in his hand.

And the item in question? A very tiny, very skimpy, black lace negligee.

Checkmate, you think to yourself when he finally turns around. It feels as though you’ve been playing this game for ages—though in reality, Jungkook was only assigned as your personal bodyguard a few short months ago. Ever since your father decided that you would inherit his company and take over as chief executive officer, your safety had become paramount. You needed the best protection that money could buy, and that meant Jeon Jungkook.

You’d expected someone older, to be honest. Someone grizzled, with gray hair and hardened eyes the color of flint, maybe. Never in a million years did you expect to get a bodyguard like Jungkook.

Jungkook, with his parted black hair and strong eyebrows that made you weak in the knees. Jungkook, with his oversized dark clothes and combat boots. Jungkook, with his muscular frame that’s so at odds with his boyish face.

Jungkook, whom you’ve been teasing for the last three months—with tight clothes and revealing hemlines, and stepping out of the shower clad in only a towel whenever he’s in the vicinity. Ever since you caught him staring at your cleavage—showcased very nicely by the dress you’d been wearing, you might add—it’s become a game for the two of you. Flirtatious glances and the occasional brush of his hand against your back became commonplace. Once, you’d spotted him doing laps in the pool and nearly drooled at the revelation of his fully tattooed arms, the ink swirling across his honeyed skin. When he’d caught you staring, he’d winked.

But nothing has ever happened beyond that—nothing has ever crossed a line. Jungkook is nothing but professional when on the job, and you do feel safer when he’s around. He’s been a silent shadow at all of the events you’ve accompanied your father to, and now that you are on the verge of taking over the company completely, he’s at your side almost every hour of every day. He’s brought you coffee when you’re working late in your office, and made sure you’ve eaten at least one meal when the stress becomes too much. He’s become a constant, reassuring presence in your hectic life.

And now he’s striding toward you, brown eyes alight with a fire you’ve never seen before.

“You did this on purpose,” he accuses, holding up the negligee.

You tilt your head innocently. “Did I?”

Jungkook growls—a low, dangerous rumble in his throat that has you gushing. “You sure you want to test me like this, princess?”

The pet name sends an electric tingle up your spine. Boldly, you step forward until you’re standing toe-to-toe, the pointed tips of your heels brushing his boots. “Have you ever known me to be uncertain about anything in my life, Jungkook?”

He hasn’t. You know he hasn’t, because in the next instant, he’s kissing you—hands curling around your hips to pull you flush against his firm chest. Your arms wind around his neck, fingers tangling into the silky hair at his nape, and when you sigh, he eagerly swallows the sound. Wandering fingers hike up your dress and delve beneath to trace your bare skin, the touch gentle enough to make you shiver in his embrace.

Jungkook pulls back, and you pout at the sudden loss of contact. “Jungk—” you begin, but he cuts you off with a kiss, lips curled up into a smirk.

“You want me to be able to take my shirt off, don’t you?”

Stunned into silence, you can only nod. Jungkook sheds his black overcoat and flings it off to the side, leaving him in a charcoal gray turtleneck that’s tucked into black slacks and a silver-buckled belt. Deft, ring-clad fingers find the hem, and you swallow when you imagine what those fingers could be doing to you in just a few moments.

That train of thought is completely derailed, however, when Jungkook pulls off his shirt entirely, baring honeyed skin and swirling black ink to your ravenous gaze. Your fingers graze along one of the tattoos around his left wrist—a trailing vine decorated with thorny roses—and you shiver again when he chuckles and twines your wandering fingers with his.

“I’ll tell you the story behind it later,” he promises. “I’ll tell you all the stories, if you want. But right now, I want to do this.”

And before you can get another word in edgewise—before you can even breathe—he’s pressing you down onto the bed, the mattress dipping underneath your combined weight. His mouth finds yours again, hot and insistent, before trailing down to the junction where your neck meets your shoulder and latching on there. His teeth sink into the delicate skin, blossoming pain and purple bruises along your flesh, but it’s the delicious sort that leaves you gasping and desperate for more. You’re clutching at his shoulders by this point, nails digging harsh crescents into his skin, but he doesn’t seem to mind one bit as he kisses his way down to the collar of your dress and tears it off with a growl.

Cool air washes across your skin, and you belatedly remember that you’d decided to forego a bra this morning. Jungkook is staring down at your exposed body, transfixed, and you flush under the sudden scrutiny.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he murmurs when you move to cross your arms over your chest. “You’re perfect. Pretty, perfect, and all fucking mine.”

Then he’s tugging your arms aside and leaning down to envelop a nipple in his mouth, teasing the hardening peak with his tongue. The sensation has you moaning, and you feel him smile against your skin before he switches his attention to its neglected twin. “So pretty,” he murmurs, pulling back so he can blow a cool puff of air against your dampened skin and chuckling when you shudder. “I bet you’ll look even prettier without this on.”

He snaps the band of your panties against your skin, and you whine out his name. “Hurry up and take them off, then.”

Jungkook grins. “So impatient,” he murmurs, but the growing tent in his pants betrays his own eagerness. In one motion, he’s peeling your panties down your legs, tossing them aside. Reaching down, he unbuckles his belt and frees his cock, gaze never leaving yours as he nudges your thighs apart and settles between them.

“Jungkook,” you murmur, breathy and soft. “Fuck me, please.”

He doesn’t need any more convincing. Jungkook leans forward, his lithe body poised over yours as he slowly guides his cock inside you. His tongue darts out to moisten his lips as he slides home, and you groan at the feeling of him fully seated inside your body, hot and slick and so, so full.

“Look at you,” he rasps, drawing back so he can thrust forward once more. “Such a good girl, taking my cock like this.”

You whimper at the surge of fullness, wrapping your legs around his waist to draw him closer. Jungkook’s fingers curl around your hips, and you keen out his name when he starts up a rough pace that nearly rips the air from your lungs. A stream of praise falls from his lips—how good you feel wrapped around him, how long he’s been dreaming of this moment—and you return his hushed sentiments with airy whispers and pleas for more, more, more.

When you come, it’s with his name on your lips. Jungkook reaches his high just moments later, and you wind your arms around his neck lazily as he catches his breath again, brushing a few strands of black hair off his forehead.

“Fuck,” he sighs, letting his head fall onto your bare shoulder. “I shouldn’t have done this.”

You run your fingers through his hair, letting your nails scrape gently against his scalp. “Done what? Given me the best fuck of my life?”

He snorts out a disbelieving laugh. “I don’t think that’s part of my job description.”

“Fuck the job description,” you reply, poking his cheek until he looks up, and kissing him once he does. “You’re my bodyguard, right? So come over here, and guard me.”

[ladyleonster]

"The bulletin said today is your birthday."

It was said with a matter-of-fact tone, but it also doubled as Ares' way of wishing her a happy birthday. How a birthday or age even worked for somebody like her, whatever that was, only made his head spin rapidly off-course from what he hunted her down to tell her. So, he stuffed his confusion in the back of his head and let his trust his friends had given her guide his words.

"Though I'm only a student here, if there's any work of yours that can be passed onto me, I would take it."

Outside Lene's tastes, Ares' understanding of 'gifts' was primarily limited to what he could accomplish with his own strength and skills. Money ever being short meant physical items and paid services were out of the question anyway.

What he did understand painfully well though, was the immeasurable value of a loved one's presence. Nothing he could do as a practical stranger could ever compare to it, but...

"Days like these ought to be spent with family, if you can."

...he could gift her the time to enjoy it.

Days like these ought to be spent with family, if you can.

She'll find herself thinking about those words from Ares the rest of the day. He's right. It's a sentiment that she'd always have agreed with but now, after everything, it rings even more true.

She thinks about Eldigan and how she'd been so convinced that he would lend his sword to Sigurd's cause. That she'd get to see him and Sigurd and Quan laughing and sharing wine together the way they had when they were younger.

Ares knows in the same way that she does how important it is to cherish family while they still have the chance.

"Actually, I think I'd rather you join us. What do you think? Would you have dinner with Altena, Leif, and I? We might not have been related through blood but I always thought of your father as another brother so that makes you basically family too."

[hockeyboysiguess]

three french horns -> three goal horns | n. mackinnon

a/n: and like clockwork, here is fic number three in my 12 days of christmas series! i wrote this one a while ago and i hurt myself re-reading it to proof it, so i hope you all like it! rest of the christmas series linked here.

word count:  4,037

warnings: alcohol, drinking 

“Hey, Nate?” you called out from the living room when you heard the back door open, signaling his reappearance in the house after letting the dogs outside. 

“Yeah, baby?” he asked as he stomped his boots on the mat, shaking the last bit of the early Denver snow off. 

You asked the question you’d been asking him since two weeks after his birthday, the same question you’d been asking a variation of for the three months before his birthday. “Nate, what do you want for Christmas?” 

The sound that left Nate’s mouth was barely human, a groan coming from deep within, from the place that never knew what he wanted for any major gift giving holiday of any kind. You tried to be original, get sentimental things, but it was hard to buy for someone who could literally buy anything they ever wanted. Nate didn’t have big, expensive wishes, so if he wanted something, he often just bought it on the spot and you were none-the-wiser until it showed up at his house. This penchant, this bad habit, carried throughout the holiday season; it was a perpetual state of being for Nathan MacKinnon. This meant that items Nate ordered for himself were as likely to show up December 24th as any other day of the year, which was eternally infuriating as a person in his life trying to buy him gifts on the semi-regular basis. 

“I don’t know,” he answered you, like he did every other time. “I’ll like it because it’s from you.” 

That response was sweet the first, second, and half-sweet the third time he’d used it on you. Now, that response was worn out like an old pair of jeans, with holes in the thighs and the knees hanging together by a thread, absolutely unusable at this point in time really. Yet Nate continued to say it, like that string of seven words didn’t light a fire in your stomach completely unlike the kind crackling under the stockings on the mantle right now. 

“Nate,” you groaned, all too similarly to how he had when you asked your question. Spend enough time with a person and you pick up their habits. You and Nate were a completely unoriginal example of that. “You know I hate when you say that.” 

Nate rolled his eyes and shrugged, “Well, I don’t really know. A hat trick? But you can’t get me that, I’ve got to get that for me.” 

The infamous illusive hat trick. While it wasn’t those dreaded seven words, you were pretty sure you had heard about this hat trick that was alluding him every other day at this point. In all fairness to Nate, the amount of times he had scored twice in the first two periods of a game this season and been held off the scoreboard in the second was absurd. Commentators were joking about it, his teammates were chirping him over not one, not two, but three missed empty netters that would’ve sealed it, even though Nate liked to say those didn’t really count as hat tricks. Greater than all of that, Nate was starting to incredibly frustrated with himself and his performances. You knew Nate was a competitive guy before you even went on your first date with him, but his competitiveness ran deep and honestly you weren’t sure your relationship would work if you were even an ounce more competitive than you were. Nate had to win, he had to achieve his goals. This goal was quite simply just three goals, but it continued to be just out of reach this season and coming up on the holiday season, pushing the halfway mark, Nate was starting to think it might not happen this year. 

“You’ll get one, Nate,” you sighed. “You’re so close and you’re too good not to get whatever you put your mind to.” 

“I got a good feeling about the game tomorrow,” he replied, sliding up next to you on the couch to throw a Christmas sweater-covered arm around your shoulders. “My good luck charm is going to be there, right?” 

Nate wasn’t superstitious in the slightest, but he said he always scored more whenever you came. Statistically, a complete lie, but it made you feel special all the same. He kissed your temple softly as he relaxed into the couch cushions next to you. 

“So, what are we watching? Classic or trashy Christmas?” 

That question itself somehow encapsulated every single reason you loved Nathan MacKinnon, despite his pension for buying his own Christmas presents, his overly competitive nature, and the difficulty that came with trying to buy him a present. Nate didn’t love Christmas movies; he wasn’t a hater like some people you’d dated before, but you adored them, both classic and trashy alike. Nate jumped on board with whatever you liked, no questions asked. He always said you didn’t sign up to date all of his teammates that walked through the door scrounging for homemade food or the long hours alone, the least he could do was be as supportive of the things you liked as you were about hockey for him. Nate’s support came in casual, steady waves of constantly and consistently showing up, no matter how tired he was, no matter how long the day before had been. He might fall asleep twenty minutes into the movie, but Nate was here and active and present for as long as he could stay awake. He’d cross deserts and move mountains for an hour with you, and some days that’s what it took, but Nate showed up and jumped on board, which made him the easiest person in the world to love in spite of everything else. It made him the only person you wanted to spend this Christmas and every other one in the future with.

The next day, with his last name on your back and a Santa hat on your head, you found yourself in a position that felt all too familiar this season. You were watching the ice with eager eyes among the other wives and girlfriends. Your breath caught in your throat halfway through the first when you saw two seconds after him that there was nothing between Nate and the net but open ice and a goaltender. You slowly stood up, leaning forward as if those all important inches would help you see the ice better. You didn’t miss the puck sailing over the blocker’s side of the goaltender, or the eruption of cheers from everyone around you as the goal horn rang out, hopefully the first of three for Nate this evening. Mel hugged you, as if you had anything to do with Nate scoring. You adjusted your hat, pulling at the fluffy white edge until it sat a little less haphazardly on your head as you cheered. 

“Two more, right?” Mel waggled her eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes. 

“For my sake, I hope so,” you laughed. 

Going into Christmas break without this elusive hat trick meant the next four days would be spent with Nate’s mind half at the rink, trying to scheme and plan and game his way into a hat trick, as if the part he was missing was anything other than luck. Maybe he didn’t need regular luck though, maybe just a little bit of Christmas would do the trick tonight. Your third beer in, a vain attempt to calm your nerves with alcohol, and five minutes into the second, on the power play, you watched as Nate easily sailed in his second goal of the game from the high slot, causing the ever familiar cheers and the ringing of the Avalanche goal horn to sound out across the arena. 

Two down, and hopefully one to go. 

“Hatty watch,” one of the other girls sang out from behind you, giving your shoulders a squeeze. 

You let out a loud, long breath, causing a wave of laughter to ripple across the other women around you. Mel teased you about it; they all did. Nate’s quest was well known among the group, something they were equally supportive and teasing about. 

“He’ll get one,” Mel assured you with a comforting pat to your leg. “He’s too good not to.”

You really thought he had it. You watched as Mikko and Nate peeled off from the defenders caught on an odd change, leading to a two-on-one with a lone opposing forward doing his best, but poor, impersonation of a defensemen. Mikko passed the puck to Nate, which Nate passed back easily and set himself up for the perfect slap shot on the return. The quick passing had sent the other team’s player sprawling over the ice. It was just Nate and the goaltender, who was frantically shifting his eyes from Mikko to Nate, tilting back and forth on the ice. Mikko’s pass was perfect, right on the middle of Nate’s tape and Nate was ready for the pass. It was tracking high glove side, exactly where Nate wanted it to go, right into the back of the net. The goalie was facing Mikko, two key seconds behind the actual action. Except out of nowhere, the Grinch stole Christmas and Nate’s hat trick when the goalie’s glove suddenly appeared in the path the puck was taking and wrapped around the puck, just on the wrong side of the goal line for Nate. 

The referee blew the whistle and signaled no goal. Nate’s hands dropped down, stick hanging low. His head tilted up toward the ceiling of the arena and you could practically hear the groan rise from deep in his chest. It was absolute robbery at its finest and the entire arena knew luck wasn’t on Nate’s side that night. You slumped down into your seat, preparing yourself for yet another two goal game and a frustrated Nate waiting for you in the tunnel when it was over. There were another twenty minutes left in the game, but if the first half of the season had taught you anything, third periods weren’t where Nate racked up anything other than wins and assists, both of which he loved, but he just wanted a third goal, just once. Mikko and Gabe each having one already this season, all six goals involving Nate as either the primary or secondary assist, didn’t help either. 

“I think you need to pray or something,” Mel told you with a laugh. “Pray to anything and anyone out there at this point.”

You cleared your throat and looked up at the ceiling of the Pepsi arena, “Santa, I know this isn’t how you take requests,” Mel and the girls around you were already laughing, “but please, pretty freaking please, can we just get some Christmas miracle magic vibes in here? It’s all he wants for Christmas. Please and thank you and I hope you have a Merry Christmas.” 

“Are you supposed to say amen if you pray to Santa?” someone behind you asked. 

“Look I’m not opposed to it,” you sighed. “It just didn’t feel like the right ending when I was asking for a Christmas miracle.”

The girls all laughed and you just stared up at the ceiling. Maybe Santa might grant your unorthodox request delivered via an even more unorthodox method. Maybe you should’ve written him a letter and dropped it into one of those charity red mailboxes at Macy’s. Maybe Nate just wouldn’t be getting the one thing he wanted for Christmas and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it. You knew he was joking when he asked for a hat trick for Christmas, but joking or not, it was the only thing he even sort of mentioned wanting. If sending out a Christmas wish audibly in the middle of the Pepsi arena was what it took, you were more than happy to do it. 

You grabbed your fourth and fifth beer together during the intermission, knowing full and well that you didn’t want to miss a second of one of Nate’s shifts in case something good happened. If after all of this time, all of this waiting, all of Nate’s back and forth debating, if you missed his hat trick goal because you were grabbing another beer, you would have to guess that higher powers didn’t exist and the hockey gods loved laughing at you and maybe Christmas wasn’t that magical after all. 

The third period was half over when you finished your fourth beer. Your right leg had been bouncing on the concrete since the period started. Nate was getting some good looks, and added another assist to his point tally for the night, but you and everyone knew what he actually wanted tonight. A slashing call with eight minutes to go put the Avalanche back on the power play, and you knew Nate was going to fight to play every bit of those two minutes he could get, which meant you were about to be in for a mentally exhausting two minutes. Mel offered her hand to you, already knowing you would need her to ground you through this. 

The first shot on the power play from Mikko ended up in the opposing goaltender’s glove. Nate lined up for the next face-off and you swore you didn’t breathe as soon as the puck left the referee's hand. Nate swept it back easily to a waiting Gabe. You gripped Mel’s hand hard, grateful you both did this for each other often enough that she didn’t mind. Nate slid up through the low slot and you saw the stars aligning as Gabe sent the puck perfectly in Nate’s direction. Nate was already ready for it when it came, the puck on his stick for less than a second. Your eyes went wide and you felt like you were about to break Mel’s hand as the goaltender shrugged his shoulder up to block Nate’s shot, but he came up short and the puck hit the back of the net. 

You were screaming as you jumped to your feet, arms wrapping tightly around Mel as someone else hugged you from behind, again like you’d done anything other than practically give yourself a heart attack watching it. Nate was surrounded by his teammates on the ice, earning a swift pat on the top of the head from Gabe. A glance up at the Jumbotron showed you the wide, bright smile on his face, filling with relief and absolute joy. Mel grabbed your hat by the pom pom and chucked it down towards the ice, making you laugh and a smile that rivaled Nate’s come across your face.

“Finally,” you breathed out a sigh of relief as the arena calmed itself, calming you with it. 

You plopped back down into your seat, hatless with half a beer and your pride in Nate left to coast you through the next ten minutes. You knew Nate was going to be in a good mood, and you just wanted to get through the next ten minutes of the game to get to him and congratulate him yourself. The score was heavy in favor of the Avs and they weren’t in any danger of losing this game, so you got to drink your beer and let out a long breath you’d been holding since Nate first came home after back to back two goal games in October without a hat trick in sight. 

You were practically bouncing on your heels as you waited in the tunnel for him, fingers fussing with the frayed edge of your denim jacket to get out some of your anxious energy. The second he rounded the corner, a wide, gorgeous smile on his face, you ran toward him. Nate wasn’t the type for large public displays of affection, but satisfaction from your incredibly competitive boyfriend was a hell of an influencer and he opened his arms wide for you. You jumped into him and he stumbled a second before catching you easily, one hand guiding your legs around his waist, the other supporting the back of your thighs. 

“Congratulations,” you mumbled in his ear as he laughed at your openly shared excitement for him. 

“Thanks, baby,” he told you, the smile he was wearing evident in his voice.

“Proud of you always,” you reminded him as you untucked your head from his neck. 

You said it after every single game, win or lose, five points or no points, goal or no goal, you told Nate you were proud of him after every single game. The stats sheet didn’t matter to you. You loved him and you saw the grueling work he put in every single day, every single second he was on the ice. You were proud of him no matter what, and it was one of the thousands of reasons he had come to love you for. Your support, your pride in him and the work he put in never wavered. It was steadfast, something hard to come by in a life as crazy as he lived. You were his rock, his home, and he felt it like the gradual, comforting warmth from sitting by the fire on Christmas Eve, when the world seemed a little more good than it actually was, when you told him you were proud of him. 

Nate smiled as he pressed a soft, quick kiss to your lips before gently guiding your feet back to the ground. He pulled you in tighter, collapsing you into him as he let out a long breath that had been holding his tension for months, caught in the hollows of his chest, finally working its way out into the open air. It had been haunting him, like a ghastly Halloween hangover that dared to last until Christmas. Thankfully, it was December now and Nate felt lighter and freer than he had in months. 

“You got what you wanted for Christmas,” you mumbled into his chest, causing his chest to vibrate with laughter. 

“Guess I sort of did, yeah.” He kissed the top of your head softly. “Ready to go home?” 

“Ready for four days of you and me time?” you teased him a little. 

Despite your teasing, his response was entirely genuine, “Been looking forward to it for weeks now.” 

Your smile in response to his words stuck with you the entire way home. Nate loved you in actions, but sometimes it was nice to hear words from him as well. You kicked off your shoes at the front door, just in the knick of time before the dogs could come and greet you both. 

“Want me to crack a bottle of wine or champagne?” you asked Nate as he dropped his bag by the front door. 

“Champagne,” he told you before dropping a kiss to your temple. “We’re celebrating tonight.” 

You slid into the kitchen, dogs hot on your heels, as you made a beeline for the champagne in the fridge. You’d slid it in before you left for the game on the chance Nate finally got his hat trick tonight. You hadn’t wanted to drink warm champagne if that was the case and now, holding the cold bottle of champagne and two flutes, you knew you had made the right decision betting on your boyfriend tonight. He rounded the corner into the kitchen a few moments later, game day suit still on, jacket and tie lost back in your shared bedroom.

“Glad you got yourself what you wanted for Christmas, Nate,” you smiled teasingly at him as you started to fuss with the gold foil over the champagne cork. 

“Before you pop that,” he told you, reaching a hand out to place over yours as you worked on the foil covering the cork, “I, um, I have something for you.” 

“Nate, it’s December twenty-third,” you sighed, setting the bottle down on the cool stone counter. “Can’t it wait a couple of days?” 

Nate smiled softly at you, a smile that seemed to mean he knew more than you in this exact moment, “I’ve actually been holding on to this gift for a long time and I think tonight is the perfect night to give it to you. Are you okay if I blow up Christmas a little bit?” 

You sighed again and gave Nate a stern look up and down, but the softness in his blue eyes and the innocence in his lazy smile pulled you in and had you nodding in approval. Your nod caused nerves to dance in Nate’s eyes and his hands to slide into his pockets, fidgeting with their contents. He shifted softly from one foot to the other. His eyes dropped to the floor for a moment to watch his feet move before he slowly lifted his head back up in time with a bounce on his heels. 

“Okay, here we go,” he mumbled softly to himself. 

He cleared his throat before speaking, “I told you I don’t know what I want for Christmas. Hell, I told you that I didn’t know what I wanted for my birthday and that was back in September. The truth is I’ve known what I’ve actually wanted the whole time. The hat trick was nice and all, but it wasn’t really what I wanted.”

“Whatever it is, you could’ve told me,” you chided him a little. 

Your words were met with an anxious smile and more shuffling of his feet across the floor. He shook his head softly and let out a tight breath before continuing. 

“The only thing I want for Christmas is something you can give me, but you can get it for me,” he told you softly, his voice shaking as he spoke, the nerves in his eyes and his feet and his hands tightening and constricting his voice resonating in his chest. 

Nate slowly pulled a hand out of his pocket before purposefully, and painstakingly slowly, dropping down on one knee in front of you. Your hands flew over your mouth on instinct and your eyes clouded over instantly. Nate smiled softly at your reaction, trying desperately not to let what he hoped your actions meant take over and make him too hopeful of your answer to his question to prevent him from asking it. He carefully opened the small black box in his hand to show you your early Christmas present, a beautiful ring nestled among the black velvet inside. 

“For Christmas, I’d like for you to say you’ll be my wife,” he continued slowly and as steadily as he could. “The thing I’m most proud of, of everything I’ve ever done, is being your partner. I love you so much more than I say, but I hope I show it enough that you want to sign up for me forever because it’s just you. It’s just you forever, for every single day, every single holiday, every single moment. I want to spend every single Christmas for the rest of my life with you. So, what do you say? Will you be my wife? Will you make my Christmas wish come true?” 

The cliches hung thick in his words, but the emotions behind them, the sentiment was so true you could feel it in the very core of who you were. Nathan MacKinnon saw you, faults and gifts and everything in between and loved you in the steadiest, most true way you had ever known. In the light of the Christmas tree, in the home you built together, with the life you build together palatable around you, Nate was asking you to build the rest of it together. You didn’t have to think about your answer. 

“Yes, Nate. Yes, I’ll marry you.” 

Nerves gave way to relief which even more quickly gave way to joy on Nate’s face as he slowly slid the ring he’d had tucked in the back drawer for months onto your finger where it belonged. Nate let out a long breath at the sight of it finally on your hand before slowly standing up in front of you, his hands reaching out to cup your face gingerly. 

“Best early Christmas present ever,” you told him with a wide smile on your face. 

He smiled back just as widely and happily as you grinned at him, “Merry Christmas, my future wife.”

[motherjoel]

in case (spencer reid x reader)

summary: you and spencer are each others forever, and spencer vowed to make this christmas your best yet.

a/n: the yard sale scene is based off of that moment in the office between michael and holly lol, i just thought it was so cute. also i am just so excited for christmas even though its months away so im sorry in advance. let me know what yall think!

wc: 3.1k

-

The LaMontagne-Jareau household was having their annual yard sale and as they do every year, they invited the team to sell anything they didn’t want anymore. You and Spencer had just moved in together a few weeks ago after dating for a year and you definitely had some things that you could get rid of, so you jumped at the opportunity to clean house. As you were packing some of your knick knacks into boxes, you noticed your boyfriend sitting in front of your shared bookshelf, closely examining its contents and placing the books into two piles. His brow furrowed when he placed another book into the smaller of the two stacks. You set down the lamp you were holding and walked over to a frustrated Spencer.

“You know Spence, you really don’t have to get rid of any of your books. I promise, I don’t need the shelf space,” you chuckled before examining the piles.

“I know, I just feel bad that you can't put any of your books up there. Besides, I’ve read everything anyway,” he said with a frustrated sigh. You patted him on the back before sorting through his “sell” pile. Picking up one of the hardcover books, you noticed it was one of your favorites. 

“‘The Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allen Poe’? You were getting rid of this?” you asked in slight shock.

“Oops, wrong pile,” he remarked, softly taking the book from your hands. “You remember the first time we read this together?” he asked, flipping his fingers through the pages. 

“Um, of course. Last year, before we were an item,” you recalled. “I was at your apartment and we ordered a pizza and opened a bottle of wine, which you proceeded to spill all over me,” you laughed, Spencer blushing profusely at the memory.

“And you were wearing white…” he trailed off.

“And I was wearing white. I know you have an eidetic memory but this must be the dirty side of it because I know full well you saw my bra through that shirt,” you nudged him teasingly.

“Hey, why do you think I asked you out in the first place?” he jokingly asked. You nudged him again and laughed. 

“So I changed into your ‘I Heart Vegas’ t-shirt and your FBI sweats and made you read to me as an apology,” you smiled, recalling the memory that you held near and dear. 

“And you’ve never looked better,” he laughed, pecking your lips. 

You set the books down and left him to his sorting, returning to your own work. Once the two of you were ready to go, you hauled the few boxes into your car and made the drive to JJ’s.

-

“My favorite lovebirds are here!” Penelope shouted, standing up from her seat on the lawn next to Morgan and making her way over to you and Spence. You gave her a quick hug.

“Hey Pen! I’m surprised to see you here, I know you’re pretty sentimental when it comes to your things,” you asked as she began to help you carry your things onto the lawn.

“Yeah, I’ve had firsthand experience with that when I accidentally knocked over her llama mug. The thing shattered and she refused to call me ‘chocolate thunder’ for days” Derek chimed in, standing to help you with the boxes.

“Okay, in my defense, I like to keep my sacred things sacred. I didn’t want my poor llama to face such violence!” she yelled, and you all laughed. “But you’re right, I’m just here to count the money,” she confessed, and you nodded. 

You all chatted about your days as you unpacked your boxes, the rest of the team showing up in the meantime. As you unpacked, you came across your old neon sign that said “boss bitch,” and you couldn’t help but laugh, drawing the attention of your friends. 

“Damn Y/N, I never pegged you as someone who’d have a sign like that,” Emily said, walking over to get a closer look.

“How come I’ve never seen that?” Spencer asked, observing the cheesy light.

“Gosh, i’ve had that since college. I found it in the back of my closet today and I don’t really have much of a use for it. I do love it though,” you remarked. Emily left you and Spencer alone after being distracted by Henry.

“You know, if you really like it, you can keep it. If there's a problem with the neon, I can take a look at it,” Spencer said, taking the sign from you.

“Oh no, it's not that. I guess it's just more meant for a ‘bachelorette’ pad,” you said.

“Oh okay. You can save it if you want, just in case,” he said softly. This got your attention as you looked up to him.

“In case? I don’t have an ‘in case’. Do you have an in case?” you asked, wondering if your boyfriend had any doubts about your move in.

“No, I don’t,” he said, as if he was just realizing how real the two of you were. He leaned down and your lips met his. You pulled away from him and continued setting up your table, a smile on your face the entire time.

-

A couple months had passed since the yard sale and you were absolutely loving the little life you had with Spencer. And as the weather got colder, it was nice to have someone to snuggle next to during the winter. Christmas was coming up and you couldn’t wait for Christmas Eve at the Rossi household. Dave had decided that this year, he would start a tradition for the team, a “night of the seven fishes,” and of course his famous Rossi pasta. Everyone was able to go- this was why you loved this team. You were all “misfits,” especially with your home life- these people had become your family and you theirs, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You went Christmas shopping every day leading up to the fateful Rossi dinner. One of those days, Spencer came with you and the two of you had finished up pretty late- it was already dark out. Spencer offered to drive home, which was a little out of character, but you were too tired from your day that you didn’t question it. You noticed he was taking a different route then normal, however, so you decided to interject.

“My love, you’re going like the complete opposite direction of home,” you giggled.

“I know, I just thought we’d take a detour to look at the lights,” he said nervously. You just shrugged and went with it.

 You turned up the radio when you heard your favorite Christmas song start to play. Spencer began to sing along quietly, and you looked at him surprised- he never sang in front of you. He glanced at you and laughed, before continuing his serenade. You decided to join in, belting out the lyrics to Maria Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas is You,” turning to Spencer and singing to him on the “you” parts, earning a chuckle. 

After you had been driving for a bit, he stopped the car and stepped out. You didn’t recognize your surroundings, but it looked like you were in a park. It was decorated beautifully with countless Christmas lights and ornaments hanging from trees. It truly took your breath away. Before you knew it, Spencer was opening your door and offering his hand. You took it and stepped out, still in awe of your surroundings. While you were looking around, Spencer reached inside the car and cranked the radio up, just as Frank Sinatra’s “White Christmas” began to play. He walked in front of you and bowed his head, extending his hand. 

“May I have this dance?” he asked, feigning chivalry. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of the man in front of you, bundled in a jacket and a scarf, nose slightly red from the cold air.

“Of course, good sir,” you said with a terrible curtsy. Taking his hand, the two of you began to slow dance in the middle of the empty parking lot, snowflakes slowly falling down. 

“You’re amazing,” you told him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“You missed,” he said, before leaning back down and giving you a firm kiss on the lips. You laughed into the kiss, wondering how you scored such an incredible boyfriend. You switched positions to get closer to him, your arms wrapped around his neck and his arms around your waist. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. The two of you continued to sway as the song changed to “Last Christmas” by Wham! You looked up at him again, missing his face. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I love this and I love you for this, but why are we doing this?” you asked, not wanting to ruin the moment. 

“I don’t know, actually. I had the thought when we were at the mall, that I just wanted to make this your best Christmas yet. And I know you love those cheesy Hallmark movies, so I figured this was the closest way to bring one of them to life for you,” he laughed and your heart melted. 

“Well, my previous statement still stands. You are amazing, Spencer Reid,” you told him, leaning in for another kiss. The two of you swayed for a few songs longer until you both decided that not even you could keep each other warm. The drive back to your shared apartment was pleasant as you closed your eyes, letting the Christmas music and the warm feeling of Spencer's hand on your thigh lull you to sleep.

-

“Babe can you zip me up?” you asked, putting in your earrings. Spencer adjusted his tie to his satisfaction and made his way over to you in front of the full body mirror to help you with your dress.

It was Christmas Eve and the two of you were getting dressed for the big night at the Rossi house. Spencer seemed a bit more nervous than usual, but you just chalked it up to his occasional social anxiety. Once he finished zipping you up he wrapped his arms around your midsection, kissing you on the cheek. The two of you stood, looking at your reflections, for a few moments. Spencer looked as handsome as ever in his nice sweater, and you were a show stopper in your dark red velvet mini dress. It was moments like these when you stopped to think about how lucky you are to have met him- he was your future and you were his. If only he would put a ring on it.

You pulled yourself from your loving daze and finished getting ready- Spencer was already finished so he was attached at your hip as you pulled on your heels and made some finishing touches to your makeup. 

“Ready to go?” he asked, seemingly antsy to get on the road. You giggled at his eagerness and nodded, grabbing your purse and heading out to the car.

On the drive there, you once again cranked up the Christmas music and serenaded him to All I Want For Christmas is You, which was quite a frequent play on the radio. You didn’t mind, however, because it was always a way to get him to blush. Mariah Carey had that effect on people. Before you knew it, you pulled up to the Rossi mansion. Most of the team must have been there already, as it was bustling with life and Christmas joy. The front of the house was completely decked out with lights and decorations- Dave spared no expense when it came to holiday decorating. The two of you made your way up to the door, presents in hand. Garcia was on the other end of the door, apparently a few eggnogs in.

“Oh my gosh, you guys are adorable!” she shouted. You and Spencer shared a knowing look. “Everyone, the lovebirds are here! And looking like the hottest couple since Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively,” she gasped, taking in your dress and feeling the velvet. The confused look on Spencer’s face told you all you needed to know about his knowledge of pop culture, which was none. 

Garcia ushered the two of you inside to the living room area, where the rest of the team was settled. Everyone stood up for hugs and assisted you with carrying all of your presents to the tree, which was one of the biggest Christmas trees you had ever seen. You greeted Jack and Henry, who were playing with some toy cars under the tree. You made you way back to the team, and you noticed Spencer talking quietly to Derek and JJ- you decided to let them be and you made your way to the kitchen island to talk to Rossi as he cooked.

“Wow, everything looks so great!” you commented, observing the wide array of food along the table. 

“It better, I’ve been busting my ass for hours just so you kids could have a nice meal,” Rossi said, stirring one of the pots on the stove. You laughed at his fatherly comments as Emiy took the seat next to you.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just worried he might be on the naughty list,” Prentiss joked, finishing off her glass of wine and grabbing another bottle. 

“Hey, just because I’ve gotten a few divorces doesn’t mean i'm not a good man,” he said, pointing a jokingly accusatory finger towards Prentiss. She lifted her hands in defense and laughed. 

“I hear that,” said Derek, who had suddenly appeared in the kitchen. Spencer made his way to the chair on your other side, taking a seat. He nervously fidgeted for a bit, but when you rested a comforting hand on his thigh, his nerves seemed to calm. Soon after you poured yourself a glass of wine, Rossi announced that dinner was served. With a cheer, everyone made their way to the long table, Rossi and Hotch on both ends. You sat between Spencer and Emily, waiting to serve yourself. Once everyone was settled, Rossi stood holding his glass of wine.

“I would like to take a moment to thank you all for coming tonight. There are friends, and there is family. And, there are friends that become family. You are all my family, and I wouldn't want to spend my night of the seven fishes with anyone else. Dig in,” he toasted, and was greeted with a few “salut’s” and pats on the back. With that, you all began to serve yourselves and fill your plates and wine glasses. 

-

Once everyone was full from the delicious dinner spread, you all retired to the living room. Christmas music was playing through Rossi’s amazing sound system, and you were resting your sleepy head on Spencer's shoulder, his arm around you. It had been a perfect night, and you didn’t want it to end. As you were listening to JJ tell a story about Henry’s first Christmas, the song changed to “White Christmas” by Frank Sinatra, and you were flooded with the memory of you and Spencer dancing in the parking lot. You lifted your head from his chest and looked to see he was thinking the same thing.

“It’s our song,” you whispered with a sleepy smile. Spencer nodded and gave you a quick kiss before looking at Derek, who was mouthing “do it now!” As if it were perfect timing, JJ just finished her story and Spencer stood up, gathering the attention from the room. 

“Uh, if I could have everyone's attention, please,” he started, nervously clearing his throat. You looked up at him with stars in your eyes, and he returned it. “As many of you know, Y/N and I have been dating for awhile now, and we’ve been living together for a few months,” he began. You looked around the room and made eye contact with Derek, who shot you a wink. You returned focus to your nervous boyfriend, encouraging him with your eyes. 

“Living with her has made me realize that I don’t need an ‘in case.’ I normally always have a backup plan for when things go wrong, well, as an FBI agent that comes in handy,” he chuckled nervously. “But with Y/N, I never thought to make a backup plan. I’ve just known that she is my forever,” he turned to you. “Y/N, you are my forever, and I want to make it official- I want the world to know that you mean everything to me,” he shakily got onto one knee, earning a gasp from Garcia and a few tears from JJ. From his sweater pocket, he pulled out a tiny velvet box and opened it. You stood up, hands covering your mouth and tears welling in your eyes.

“Y/N, will you marry me?” he asked, a hopeful glint in his eyes. You were in shock. You almost forgot to answer until you heard a cough from Prentiss. 

“Yes, Spence! Yes yes of course!” you shouted, putting the ring on and he stood up as you jumped into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. You barely registered, the whooping cheers from the rest of the team, as everyone embraced each other. Tears were shed by most of them (Hotch tried his best to hold back). 

After a minute of spinning, Spencer let you down and you observed the ring. It was one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen. 

“I helped pick it out,” JJ told you and you pulled her into a hug and thanked her before embracing Spencer once again, a happy blush across his cheeks.

“Hey, look!” Garcia said, pointing above you and Spencer's heads. Looking up, you saw the mistletoe she was pointing at. 

“Did you know that the white berries on mistletoe are actually toxic to humans?” Spencer asked, receiving a few head shakes. You looked up at him in awe, always adoring his facts.

“Come here,” you said, pulling him down by his tie and giving him a passionate (but tasteful) kiss that was greeted with a chorus of “aww’s” and a few “ewwww’s” from Jack and Henry. You both laughed and continued to mingle with the team, showing off your rock. Spencer had made it a Christmas to remember, and you were so eternally grateful to have someone who loved you as much as you loved him.