#decides to take an early retirement because they need her more than she needs them

[pickingupmymercedes]

Nothing without you - Lewis Hamilton

Part of 1K Jukebox Event

song: Nothing without you - The Weeknd - anon

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

genre: fluff (there's mentions of the Ferrari move though)

wordcount: +1k

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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The winter morning in the Colorado cabin was serene, the kind of calm that only existed far away from the buzz of cities. Outside, thick snow covered the ground, and Lewis’s friends had just left for the slopes, their laughter lingering in the frosty air.

Y/n stood by the window, watching their figures disappear into the trees, her breath fogging the glass slightly. She’d sensed something off with Lewis since that call in the early hours, the subtle shift in his demeanor that he tried to hide from her, but she knew better.

“Lewis,” she called softly, pulling his attention from the screen. He glanced up at her, his dark eyes clouded with something she couldn’t quite place yet. “Why don’t we stay behind today? Take the day for ourselves.”

The warmth from the fireplace crackled behind her as she turned, her eyes landing on Lewis, who sat at the large wooden table, idly running his hand over his phone.

He wasn’t fully present; that much was clear.

He blinked at her, and there was a moment of hesitation before he nodded, standing up slowly as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders.

He made his way to the plush couch near the fireplace, and Y/n followed, feeling the tension in the air.

She sat beside him, close enough to feel his warmth but far enough to give him space.

“You’re quiet” she said gently, her voice a soft melody in the quiet cabin. “Something’s up.”

Lewis let out a long breath, leaning back into the couch and running a hand over his face. His jaw clenched, a telltale sign that he was holding back, but with Y/n, he never could, not for long.

“Vasseur called me earlier. I’ve been offered a seat” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Y/n’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. It was no secret that Ferrari was every F1 driver’s dream—their history intertwined with the sport’s own history.

But she knew the possibility had left his mind years ago. The promise of a retirement with Mercedes a quiet and comforting fate to eventually end his career, whenever he decided it was time to do so.

She shifted closer, her hand resting lightly on his knee. “That’s a huge offer,” she said softly. “You don’t seem excited though”

Lewis tilted his head back against the cushions, staring up at the ceiling as if it held the answers he sought. “It’s Ferrari. It’s the dream. But...it’s so much change. Leaving behind the people who’ve been with me for more than ten years. It feels like I’m betraying them.”

She could hear the pain in his voice, the doubt woven into every word. “It’s not betrayal to take an opportunity like this, Lewis” she said gently. “You’ve given Mercedes your everything these years.”

He turned to look at her then, his expression conflicted. “It’s not just that” he admitted taking a breather. “It’s more time in Monaco, Maranello... less in London or LA. Our whole life would shift. And I don’t want to take you away from everything you’ve built, just because I need a new challenge.”

Y/n’s heart softened at his words, the genuine concern in his voice. Lewis had always been considerate, never wanting to make her feel like she was sacrificing too much for his career.

But she had long since made peace with the fact that being with him meant a life of potential changes, and that was something she had embraced.

She reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers as she spoke. “Lewis, if it was our first years together, if things were still fragile… but my work hasn’t been tied to one place for a while now. If we need to base ourselves more in Monaco or Italy, we’ll figure it out.”

He exhaled, a bit of relief and gratitude passing through him, but the weight still lingered. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re compromising your life away for me.”

“I guarantee you, I’m not. Not with this” she said firmly, her eyes locking onto his with determination. “You’ve always supported me in everything, so let me do the same for you.”

Lewis’s expression softened, his fingers tightening around hers. “You’re too good for me, you know that?”

Y/n smiled, leaning in closer. Lewis shifted, pulling her onto his lap, his arms wrapping around her waist as she settled against him. He buried his face in her neck, and she felt the tension in his shoulders begin to ease.

“I just don’t want to mess this up” he murmured against her skin; his voice almost vulnerable.

Y/n gently ran her fingers through his loose curls, her touch light and reassuring. “You’re not going to mess anything up, you’re Lewis fucking Hamilton”

He pulled back slightly, his dark eyes searching hers. “I don’t thing I’ve ever been this scared before” he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. “not even leaving Mclaren.”

Y/n cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “That’s because it’s not just about the racing anymore. There’s a lot at stake. Do you think it’s worth it?”  

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes tracing every feature of her face as if committing it to memory. “I know it is” he whispered; his voice thick but certain.

She smiled softly, her heart swelling with love for the man in front of her. “Then we’re going to have to learn italian, after all”

Lewis’s lips curved into a small smile, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, then her nose, and finally her lips. The kiss was slow, filled with all the words he couldn’t quite express.

When they pulled back, Y/n rested her forehead against his, her voice barely above a whisper. “Whatever you decide, I’m with you.”

He nodded, the weight of her words sinking in, grounding him. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his hands resting on her waist, holding her close. “For putting up with all of this.”

Y/n chuckled softly, her fingers tracing the lines of his collarbone. “You’re worth it, Lewis. Every part of what you bring is worth this.”

They sat in silence for a while after that, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the soft hum of the wind outside. It wasn’t until later, when the light from the morning sun started to filter through the large cabin windows, that Lewis finally spoke again.

“I think I’m going to do it” he said quietly, his voice steady now, the doubt no longer hanging over him. “Ferrari.”

Y/n smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Ferrari will have another multi champion then”

Lewis pulled her closer, resting his chin on top of her shoulder. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice full of conviction.

“I love you” Y/n whispered, her arms wrapped tightly around him as they sat in the warmth of the cabin, ready to face whatever came next.

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[aziraphales-library]

hi, i was wondering if you know any (aziraphale/crowley) enemies to friends to lovers/enemies to lovers, with the fake dating/marriage troupe fics? slow burn would also be nice but if not its okay! any rating will do, but preferably explicit!

Thank you :)

We have both #enemies to lovers and #fake dating tags, so check those out. Pretty sure most of these are on there somewhere...

The Trojan Horse Virus by Greenathena (T)

Aziraphale owns a bookshop in Soho. Crowley leases the space next door for his nursery. And their first impressions are not exactly positive. But when Crowley needs someone to pretend to be his fiance, who better than the bastard next door who already dislikes him? No feelings to mess things up means no problems, right? Right?

wasteland, baby by john1513 (M)

“Listen. Fell. I...I might, uh, have an idea.” “You do?” Aziraphale said, and hated the hopeful way he said it. “I’ll do it.” “You...won’t like it.” “Will it keep me out of prison?” “Maybe. Maybe the both of us. For now. Ideally.” “Then yes.” Crowley’s expression tightened, and Aziraphale wasn’t sure if Crowley wanted to cry, or laugh. “You really, really won’t like it.” “I’ll like prison less.” He responded plainly. Crowley’s face twisted into something soft at first, just for a second, before searing into a careful little smirk, and Aziraphale knew that smile, that Cheshire cat smile, much too well to not be cautious. “Crowley, dear. What are you doing on the floor?” He cleared his throat. “Angel. Remember when I said you wouldn’t like it? Well, uh, here we are.” His smile grew awkwardly, apologetically, and Aziraphale had a sinking feeling about it. “Angel. Will you marry me?” ----- Crowley and Aziraphale plan a fake marriage to avoid having to testify against each other in court...they get much more than they bargained for.

The blesséd language of flowers by elf_on_the_shelf (E)

Crowley has given up on her life in the big city and decided to retire early to the lovely village of Tadfield. She expected a run-off-the-mill early retirement. Maybe playing bridge with a couple of old ladies and maybe taking a part in organising some of the village fetes. What she did not expect was actually competing against the woman she had developed a crush on in the village floral competitions and hence that particular woman instantly taking a dislike to her. She also did not expect that for the sake of the village's reputation they would have to band together and participate as a couple for nationals, because why not...

Love to Hate You by Caedmon (E)

When Dr. Aziraphale Fell meets Dr. A.J. Crowley, sparks fly immediately: the wrong kind of sparks. For five and a half years, they snipe and snark at each other while secretly pining. Then, at the annual Christmas party, a drunk Crowley propositions an equally drunk Aziraphale. They slip off together - and get caught by the administrators of the hospital. To keep them out of trouble, Crowley announces that they're married... and now they have to keep up the ruse to keep their jobs.

Married at First Sight by Aracloptia (T)

“Well, that was a thing,” Crowley said once they were out of earshot. Without talking about it, they were both heading down the field, towards the lake where the photographer (and likely a few more people from the TV crew) was waiting. “That was a wedding,” Aziraphale replied, surprised at his own annoyance that somebody called a wedding a ‘thing’. “Yeah, obviously, didn’t miss that part,” Crowley said with a shrug, and waved abruptly in Aziraphale’s general direction. “Neither did you, from the looks of it, since you’re dressed like a wedding bride and everything.” “Excuse me, I am a—“ Aziraphale stopped himself, and started over. In which Aziraphale ends up marrying a rude stranger who wears sunglasses.

The Curve of Old Bones by Jenanigans1207 (E)

Aziraphale watches as Crowley’s smile grows, sharpens and turns distinctively dastardly. And even though Aziraphale knows what he’s in store for, he’s entirely unprepared for the words that slip out of Crowley’s mouth next. “Name’s Anthony Crowley, Aziraphale’s husband.” Aziraphale is eternally grateful that he wasn’t taking a sip of his tea at that exact moment for he would’ve surely choked on it. -- When Crowley claims to be Aziraphale's husband to ruin what he assumes is a date, he doesn't think anything of it. But a day later it comes back to bite him in the ass when Crowley finds out that the date in question is, in fact, his new boss, who is looking to hire Aziraphale and hoping that Crowley, his husband, will put in a good word for them. Now Crowley is caught in a tight spot: either admit to his new boss that he was lying, or convince Aziraphale, his sort-of enemy, to pretend to be his husband to save face.

- Mod D

[viridescentelf]

Notre Dame

Stardew Valley Elliott x Female Farmer

Art belongs to @eindersein, please give them some love for this beautiful piece!

Hi! I wrote this, inspired by Paris' song, thinking Elliott and the farmer would definitely bond by exchanging ideas and reminiscing about their time in the city. I didn't really proof-read this all too well, I just really wanted a cute fluffy fic. I hope you enjoy!

Please also give the song a listen, it's beautiful!

-----

Elliott woke up from the sunlight warming his eyes. He had managed to make it into bed this time, an irregular occurrence as his constant back and neck pain proved. His desk usually served as his resting spot.

His long red hair tug under his arm, while he lifted his head, making him shift to free his tresses. Peering out into the beautiful afternoon light from outside, an immediate need to walk out and explore the sleepy town came over him.

Nowadays, there was a little more commotion than usual: the arrival of the mysterious farmer caused the villagers to stir, gossip and diverge from their routines just for a chance to meet her. Leah had already encountered the newcomer and expressed, a bit obviously, that Elliott would be very fond of her. He didn’t take his friend’s word for it, as she also assumed he would get along swimmingly with Shane. Despite having tried to greet him kindly many times, the downtrodden Joja Worker barely acknowledged him.

He would never admit it to Leah, but the writer was indeed curious. Mostly, because a new addition to an established town was the first time something interesting had happened here! It could be great inspiration for his novel. Maybe he’d write about a mysterious, retired detective, moving to a small town and causing the same ruckus as the farmer had in Stardew Valley.

Elliott brushed his mane, put on the clothes he wore every day and checked his reflection. Pocketing his trusty notebook, in case inspiration hit on the go, he stepped out on to the sunny beach and breathed in the crisp, November air.

The beach was mostly quiet, as it usually was in Fall. He saw Willy fishing absentmindedly on the deck, too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice Elliott had emerged from his shack. The writer saw him every day, it wouldn’t hurt to not speak for one of them. He wanted to enjoy the inspiring weather and take a trip into the forest a few miles away.

The redhaired writer crossed the stone bridge, waving at Lewis while he raked the fallen leaves in front of his house. He saw the grumbling Shane return to his aunt’s house after an early Joja Mart shift, but decided to leave him alone, walking a few measured steps behind him to avoid upsetting him further.

He passed Leah’s home, thinking briefly if he should stop by to say hello. Deciding he could do so on the way back, Elliott continued his stride into the beckoning woods. The number of leaves on the earth amplified the closer he got, the soft crunching under his brogues made him smile. He loved Fall. Not only due to it being his birthday season, but also because it provided a picture-esque setting for a romantic writer like himself. 

The trees started to clump closer together as he crossed the threshold into the forest. They swayed slightly in the cold breeze.

Elliott found a spot near a small babbling brooke, situated himself comfortably against a large tree and pulled out his notebook. He gazed up into the tree tops, watching the colorful leaves abandon their homes to fall down towards him. What a sight. He picked up a large, red maple leaf that drifted to his side, eyeing the vivacious color with adoration. Placing the pretty thing on his knee, the writer pulled out his trusty pen and started writing a few sentences.

The wind sang in his ear, as the hours passed. He collected interesting leaves that fell close to him, while he tapped the back of his pen onto the page. The words he was writing were alright, but not fascinating enough. There had to be something else here that would spark his roaring imaginatio-

“Oh- hey there!”

A soft voice pulled Elliott out of his writing trance. Looking up from his page, he met the eyes of a stranger. She wore a pair of hunter green dungarees, with a thick, white sweater underneath. Her sleeves were pulled up to her elbows, displaying strong forearms littered with fascinating tattoos. On top of her head rested a wide sun hat, that cast a long shadow down her front.

Elliott couldn’t help but blush at her shaded visage. It was the eyes that pulled him in, like mountain vistas painted by genius minds. She blinked.

“H-Hello!” he spat out hastily, as the pause between her kind greeting and him noticing her grew a bit too long. “You must be the farmer!”

She smiled and the writer’s inner voice squeaked at the sight of it. “Yup, that’s me! I’m YN.” She held out her hand.

Their palms met and he felt her callouses: “Elliott.” He realized he hadn’t returned her gentle smile and quickly remedied that by flashing his teeth. “I didn’t think anyone really came here. Apologies for my demeanor. I just wasn’t expecting to see anyone.”

“Oh no worries, I just discovered this place a few days ago. I wanted to take a break from work. Do you mind?” the farmer indicated that she wanted to join him, but stayed standing up.

“Yes!” the writer exclaimed excitedly. The excited answer obviously confused YN and he watched an eyebrow raise in response. Elliott noticed his mistake: “I mean- no I do not mind. Please.” He patted the spot next to him, clearing his throat in embarrassment. She smiled again, making his heart skip a few beats, and she joined him, placing a large guitar down into the grass. Elliott was surprised to see it appear out of nowhere, but he had to confess to himself that he hadn’t noticed anything other than her face and clothes when she arrived. She wrapped her arms around her knees, staring up into the dancing branches.

“So, Elliott…”, she began, “what’s your story?”

They sat for a while, exchanging their virgin journey to Stardew Valley. Elliott grew transfixed when he noticed she really listened to what he said. Did she... actually find what he said interesting?

She shared her decision to leave ZuZu city. “I hated my job. I felt like I was trapped and stowed away in that building. Like Quasimodo, haha!”

“That’s funny. That’s sort of how I felt back there. I couldn’t … let my head explore. It was so loud and disorienting being there. My mind seemed to emulate the chaos around me.”

“That’s such a poetic way of putting it.” She started plucking at the guitar strings while she stared up into the yellow crowns. Elliott didn’t answer. He saw little hearts float behind her head.

“I’m so curious what you’re writing! If you ever want someone to read over it, feel free to ask. I love stuff like that.”

Elliott nodded frantically; his heart felt a surge at the thought of her reading his drafts.

They sat beside each other in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. He felt extremely at ease near her, which ironically made him a bit uneasy. What was this sensation?

The longer they sat beside each other, the more consistent the melody became that she was plucking.

“How long have you been practicing music? I play the piano!” He wanted to learn as much as he could about her.

“Cool! I’ve been doing it since I can remember. But this guitar is new. I bought it right before Grandpa passed away. I love it, it’s so much easier to tune.” As she said that, she turned one of the dials to fix a string. “Maybe we can play together. Do you sing?”

Elliott giggled at the thought of him singing anything. He wasn’t awful, but you couldn't pay anyone to listen to him. He repeated the sentiment, feeling his face prickle when she chuckled.

“You're funny." His breath seized for a brief moment. "Well, then. I’ll sing and you can play? How does that sound?”

He couldn’t help but let the words tumble out: “We could write songs together.”

Her eyes started to glow. He felt a lump in his throat at the sight of her. He could’ve cried. He had a great relationship with Leah, the only other fellow artist in the village. She had a completely different artistic expression from him, though. It was fulfilling to know that more people would appreciate his way of thinking.

Elliott romanticized her already. He barely knew her, but felt sure they would grow closer, based on this exhilarating conversation.

She continued working out a melody, as Elliott eased into the tree trunk behind him again, listening intently as he jotted down a couple words her music inspired. She caught a glimpse of a few lines and giggled again:

“Did Quasimodo inspire you?”

“Haha, yes. You mentioning him made me think of being trapped up there. In the beautiful cathedral. Like you said you were at Joja. I'm a bit stuck though, don’t really know how to continue after tower.”

“Can I play around with what you wrote?” she asked with the cutest smile on her face.

Elliott felt his face blow up, he could tell he was a deep shade of red. “O-of course!!”

She nodded once, keeping the smile on her lips. She swayed, as she repeated the lines in a whispery tone while simultaneously strumming along. A few moments passed and Elliott couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. She closed her own, as she sang:

I'm in the rafters looking down

It's cold up here

Between walls of stone

I made my home

And the air hangs

Heavy with the incense

Feathers fall from pigeons

Cooing in the tower

I rarely go down there, the view's just so beautiful from here

And I can see everybody

At their worst points

At their worst points

I'm not a sadist, I enjoy just being able to be witness of the loneliness and be a higher power

In case there isn't one

In case there isn't one

I'm not a higher power, I just live in the ceiling 'cause I'm lonely on the fringes, and it gives my life some meaning

In the exile

In my exile

The grey light filters through roof slabs

And the flagstones glow

Bright from the stained glass

A hundred feet below

As I tiptoe

Creaking over prayers

Pleading with their maker

Crying with the choir

See upcoming pop shows

Get tickets for your favorite artists

I'm not immune to the sincerity below me

Makes me feel, it makes me holy, but through tears I understand

That I do not belong

No, I do not belong

Watching the figures, all the saints, but mostly sinners

Come and go and some are desperate, but the others have the sense that they do belong

And I do not belong

Some only turn towards the heavens when the end is feeling desperate,

have the overwhelming feeling

That there's nobody who's looking down

At least I'm looking down

Was this… what Shakespeare spoke about? The moment you meet your muse? The one?

Elliott had stars in his eyes as she finished her beautiful aria. When she looked at him, Elliott hurriedly clapped while she bashfully grinned.

“That was fun. You really inspired me,” she said sweetly. The writer could’ve wept at those words. Where had she been all his life?

She pushed herself up off of the ground and brushed the grass off of her legs. Had she noticed how transfixed he was? Was he making her nervous?

He tried to make his face look less in love. It wasn’t easy.

She turned to him and gazed down gently.

“I have to get back to my farm. The chickens need some love. But we should definitely play together. You down?”

Relief washed over his body. “Absolutely! I’d be honored!” Elliott felt some spit leave his mouth. He wanted to sink into the forest floor in embarrassment. She didn’t seem to notice, luckily, or perhaps she was just very polite.

“Cool! Where can I find you?”

“At the beach. The shack near the trees.”

“Awesome. I’ll stop by when I can! It was nice to meet you Elliott!”

The words left his lips in a sigh: "It was lovely meeting you, YN..."

YN winked, while she turned and walked back towards the forest entrance. Before she left through the branches, she raised her arm and waved at him.

He quickly waved back.

She disappeared behind the brush.

He felt like he had met God. Elliott fell back against the tree and started kicking his feet.

Finally, finally, finally.

Leah was right. He liked her.

A lot.

[jdeclerc]

welcome home, general

pairing: cassian x reader

summary: the night court's general returns home, craving the touch of his mate - he is met with the most thorough of welcomes.

author's note: cassian is it for me. i'm also sorry this is so long? no idea how that happened. i'll try my best to write something a bit shorter...no promises though ;)

warnings: smut (with a bit more plot than first anticipated)

word count: 3,815

Cassian lands on the balcony of the House of Wind and feels like he can breathe for the first time in weeks.

His week-long mission in the Illyrian Steppes had quickly become two…three…four weeks away from his home, his family, his mate. It is the thought of his mate that has the tension in his shoulders loosening.

You and he had decided long ago to close-off the bond when one of you was working for an extended period. He feels the embers of it flicker to life for the first time and does his best to tamper it. You aren’t expecting him home until tomorrow morning, he had worked hard to maintain the surprise of his early arrival.

Cassian can’t help but fix his gaze on the window above him. He knows you lay behind it. An image of you sitting in bed, a book in your hand, and a cup of tea on the bedside table enters his mind.  He can’t count how many times you sacrificed sleep to finish ‘just one more chapter.’ The corners of his mouth turn up at the thought.

He admires your ability to fall into the worlds of your books. Some of his favourite moments are you excitedly telling him about your latest read, and he is raptured by your every word, even when he has no grasp on what in the cauldron you are speaking about.

His thoughts turn darker as his memories turn to his favourite method of getting you to finally take a break from reading. He would take the book from your hands, put your marker in so you don’t lose your page, and place it on his bedside table. Cassian would then lean you back into the pillows and position himself between your legs, wrapping them around his waist. In those moments it becomes his singular goal to worship every part of you, showing you that even after centuries, his need for you has never diminished.

Cauldron help him the first time you had wanted to recreate a scene from one of your books. He was a male undone, never having found release quite like that.

“She’s missed you brother, as have we.”

Cassian is shaken from his thoughts at the sound of Rhys’ voice, turning to find him and Azriel approaching from the house. He opens his arms to both and pulls them into himself. Another wave of relief washes over him as he embraces his brothers, it is yet another sign of him being home.

They step back from one another but remain close. Cassian knows, like he has felt, that his brothers need him near to know he’s truly home safely.

“When did she get here?”

“Two days after you left. She wanted to wait but knew you would have words for her if she did.”

Cassian nodded at Azriel’s words and glanced back up at the window.

The two of you often frequented the House of Wind but had built your own home on the outskirts of the city about a century after being mated. Your family rarely visited, the place becoming a sanctuary for yourself and Cassian.

But Cassian knew, because he experienced the same, that you had difficulty sleeping there without him. Your home encompassed the heart and soul of your mateship and felt empty when the other wasn’t there for an extended period. You both had taken to staying with Azriel and Gwyn at the House of Wind, impatiently awaiting your mate’s return.

On his flight home Cassian had every intention of taking you home and showing you just how much he missed you. But he knows that the moment he opens the bond and lays eyes on you that his plan will vanish in an instant. He craves your scent and the feeling of your skin beneath his hands more than he cares to admit, even to himself.

“Y/N retired to your room early, she cleared her schedule tomorrow and wants to finish training before she thinks you’re getting home. This one was hard for her Cas, as I’m sure it’s been on you as well.” Azriel squeezes Cassian’s shoulder.

“And in effort to do themselves a favour, Gwyn and Az are staying at the River House tonight. You both can join us tomorrow, if you’re not too exhausted, that is.” Rhys gives Cassian a sly grin and a knowing look. “The entire family is spending the day together, even Nesta and Eris are coming to celebrate your safe return.”

“We’ll be there…maybe a bit late but we’ll be there.”

Rhys can’t help but let out a laugh at Cassian’s words.

“Good.” Rhys motions to Azriel and they step past Cassian toward the edge of the balcony. “Now go, you’ve got a mate that needs tending to.”

“Try not to be too much of a disappointment, will you?” Azriel shoots Cassian a shit-eating grin as he says the words.

“You can both go kindly fuck yourselves.”

Cassian can hear his brothers’ responding laughter as they shoot into the sky. He can tell neither of them let up on their speed as they descend toward the city, weaving in and out from each other. They’re racing one another. Despite being centuries old, the brothers’ competitiveness is as childish as ever. Cassian can’t predict which of them will win but knows he’ll hear every detail the following day.

He watches them for a few moments longer, turning toward and entering the house only when he loses sight of them.

Cassian takes the stairs two at a time, as silently as his massive form can manage. It’s only as he approaches the door of your shared room that he registers any sound in the house at all. He carefully pushes the door open, conscious of the damaged hinge neither of you had fixed. The two of you had been interrupted by various members of your family one too many times not to appreciate the warning squeal the hinge lets out as the door opens.

It's as he steps into the room that his suspicion is confirmed; the noise he hears is coming from the adjoining bathing chamber.

Cassian isn’t one to be caught off guard but as he steps into the doorway of the bathing chamber, the first sight of his mate has him grinding to a halt.

You haven’t noticed him, and Cassian allows himself a moment to drink in the sight of you before he even thinks of alerting you to his presence.

You’re standing directly under the stream of water. He can tell by the way your eyes are closed that you’re lost in thought, having always found solace in the noise of the water flooding your senses.

His eyes follow the water as it cascades down your bare form. He watches it hit every dip and dive, tracing the body he knows as well as his own.

It’s the scent of your arousal that knocks him out of his daze. Whatever is going on in your glorious head has your hands moving over yourself. He watches as you run your hands down the front your body, descending painfully slowly.

Cassian can see more than hear his name fall from your lips as you reach the apex of your thighs. Your voice filled with such need that it comes out as more of a breath than a fully formed word. He anticipates the moves you make as you touch yourself, knowing the exact motions and pace you’ll use. It was one of the first things he had you show him, your satisfaction always being placed above his own.

He stops breathing as he watches you slip a single finger into yourself, your mouth falling open slightly at the action.

It’s at that moment that he opens his end of the bond. He can see the exact moment his need meets your own. You gasp as the wave of emotion hits you. Your eyes slowly open and meet his own, a range of emotions cross your face in an instant: relief, longing, desire. Your hand halting its movements at your seeing him.

“Don’t stop.” Both a command and a plea wrapped into one. You resume your movements without hesitation.

Cassian’s eyes don’t stray from your form as he begins unclasping his siphons, one hitting the floor after another. You gaze, however, tracks every movement of his hands. He’s known you long enough to know you don’t do so purely out of desire. No, you’re waiting for any sign of injury. Any sign that his movements are out of the ordinary or encumbered in even the smallest way.

As he removes the top half of his leathers, he understands why you stop this time. He silently vows to tell you the stories of his bruises later, when the need to be with you isn’t demanding to be met. The look in your eyes has him undoing the laces of his pants with precision. Worry has replaced all desire that was there only a moment ago.

When he is as bare as the Mother made him, Cassian starts moving. He doesn’t wait for the shower door to close behind him before he’s reaching for you. His hands slide around your waist as yours run over his abdomen before moving to his chest. He knows the question you need answered as you look up at him.

“They’re nothing serious, I swear to you.” His voice is low. “I’m here…I’m home…I’m safe.”

He can feel the tension leave your body at his words, at the use of the mantra you both use when returning to each other. The words quelling any worry no matter what marks mar either of you.

You give him a small nod and it’s as though he can feel the air thicken with the return of your arousal.

Cassian tightens his arms around you and moves you several steps until your back meets the wall. Your hands come to rest on either side of his neck as he gazes down at you.

He takes a moment to admire his mate. The warmth of your skin under his hands and your scent filling the air grounding him like nothing else can.

It’s the brush of your chest against his as you pull him closer that snaps his resolve. He is on you in an instant.

Cassian pulls you impossibly close as his lips meet yours. The kiss burning with four weeks of built-up need and desire. Your hands encircle his shoulders as he slides one of his own up your back and stops at the base of your neck. He applies just enough pressure to have your head tilting further back, allowing him better access to devour you.

His lips move along your jaw, coming to stop at the spot below your ear that he knows does you in. Your responding whimper is all he needs to continue his exploration. He forges a path down your neck and across to the center of your chest. His hands come to rest on either side of you, his thumbs brushing across the bottom of your breasts. Cassian takes a moment to drink in the sight of you before descending on you once more.

He sucks a mark into the top of your left breast first before doing the same to your right. His desire to mark you as his outweighing the reality that they will be gone by morning, nothing but a memory.

 Cassian takes your right nipple between his lips, drawing it in into his mouth until he can feel it tighten against his tongue. His left hand circling the other as he does. His teeth catch your nipple as he releases it, and he flicks his tongue across the hard surface before moving to repeat his actions on your left side.

Your breathless by the time his mouth leaves you and his eyes remain locked on yours as he sinks to his knees before you. His motions are reverent as he rests his forehead on your lower stomach and his hands come to rest at the backs of your thighs.

Cassian closes his eyes and breathes you in. He runs his hand across the top of your left thigh until he can take hold of its underside. He leans back and his eyes don’t leave your centre as he lifts your thigh so he can place it over his shoulder. He runs his thumb across your folds and groans at what he feels. Your desire evident in the tremor that runs through you at the second pass of his thumb.

Cassian knows you could take him then and there, but he is too selfish a male in that moment to deny himself of what he had dreamed about countless times while away.

He turns his head and begins a trail along your inner thigh of kisses so feather-light that they leave goosebumps in their wake.  He feels one of your hands find purchase in his hair as his mouth closes over your clit.

He devours you like a male starved. Moving his tongue in a way that he knows will have your legs shaking before long. Cassian lets out a hum of satisfaction as two of his fingers slide easily into you. He works them through you and curls them in just the right way, he is nothing but an expert at his chosen craft.

“Cas…”

Cassian can tell by your tone that you’re close. He can feel it in the way you move, chasing your release against him.

It’s the sounds you make and how you clench around his fingers as your orgasm tears through you that has Cassian understanding why the priestesses are so devout in their worship. He would spend a lifetime on his knees if this is what it entailed. He would worship before you for eternity, even if it meant only feeling what he just had even one more time.

He moves his mouth from you and slows the movement of his fingers as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. Only when he’s confident your legs will hold you does he lower the one over his shoulder and rise to stand.

He stands so close to you that your chest brushes his as it rises and falls in quick succession. You open your mouth to speak but he’s the first one to get words out.

“Turn around.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and look up at him through your lashes at his words and Cassian is so transfixed by the action that he barely registers the need to take a half step back to allow you room to follow his command. When you do, he snakes one of his arms around your waist and moves you forward, caging you in with his massive form. His other hand moves to the back of your thigh and raises it to rest on the bench built into the right side of the shower.

He can’t help a tremor of his own passing over him as he takes hold of his cock and slides it through your folds; having been hard since walking into the bathing chamber.

Cassian lines himself up and relishes in the gasp you let out as he pushes into you. It’s a feeling he’s never gotten used to, the rush of euphoria that passes over him every time never getting old.

Only when he’s fully seated in you does he still. His right hand lands over yours and dwarfs it where it rests on the shower wall. His left moves from its position at your waist, up your torso, stopping between your breasts, and he pulls you flush to his chest so you face is no longer resting on the shower wall.

Cassian lays his forehead on your shoulder and waits, giving you time. You’d told him in the past that your body needed a moment to adjust to his size, no matter how many times the two of you had done this.

He’s given you this time ever since. And despite your repeated reassurances of the contrary, he still finds himself feeling sick at the thought of causing you even the slightest discomfort.

Your hand squeezes the forearm he has around your front.

“You’re sure?”

“Cas, please…I need you to move.” Your voice is laced with the most beautiful desperation, nails digging into his forearm.

Cassian moves his hand down, your own maintaining its grip. His fingers find your clit and circle it purposefully, painfully slow.

“And if I don’t?” He continues his movements. “I could keep you here until you’re begging to cum around my cock, so full, never getting to feel it splitting you open over and over again.” Cassian knows his words are a complete lie, knows his desperation outweighs yours ten-fold.

“It’s impolite to keep a lady waiting…General.”

It’s your use of his title that has Cassian pulling out to the tip and pushing back into you so that you feel every ridge and vein as they move inside you. You both know the effect the title has on him.

Your head falls onto his shoulder, and he brings his mouth to your ear. His voice rough with warning.

“As you command, my lady.”

Cassian sets a burning pace, bottoming out inside you with every thrust. His hand taking a bruising hold of your waist to keep you in place.

It isn’t long before he knows your close to coming undone. Your arm comes to circle his neck as he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his hand moving to resume its movements on your clit.

You break the kiss as you cum, head falling to his shoulder once more, and you’re unable to hold in your moans. Cassian holds you with both arms to keep you standing, you body trembling as he continues with slow, deliberate thrusts.

Once you’ve come down from the high, he maintains his hold on you as he slowly pulls out, gently setting your leg on the shower floor, and turning you to face him.

Cassian brings your hands to rest around his shoulders. He crouches just enough to reach the backs of your thighs and lifts you into his arms, pressing your back into the shower wall. Your eyes close as you rest your head on the wall, the falling of the water the only sound passing through the space.

“Eyes on me.” Cassian brings a hand to the back your neck and tilts your head to press your forehead to his. You open your eyes, and he sees nothing but pure satisfaction staring back at him. “One more…give me one more. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

You nod your head.

“Words…I need to hear you say the words.”

You give him a small smile and bring your hand to rest on his cheek.

“Make me see stars Cassian.”

He doesn’t hesitate to resume his earlier pace. The drag of your nails across his back, past where his wings meet his skin, has him angling you to reach even deeper inside you.

It’s the feeling of your skin against his as you cling to him that has Cassian approaching his release. He slides his hand between your bodies and brings his thumb to the most sensitive part of you, wanting your finish to precede his.

You hold him painfully close as you cum with a cry. Your sounds pushing Cassian straight over the edge into oblivion. He cums with a roar and holds you to the base of his cock as he fills you. He moves with shallow thrusts, carrying both of you through the end of your respective orgasms. He stills as the last of his leaves him.

Time lapses for several minutes, neither of you move until he feels you stop shaking. He brings his hand up to push back the hair sticking to your face. You do the same to the strands that have fallen from where his hair is tied at the back of his head. He holds your gaze, the both of you seeing each other free from the haze of desire for the first time.

“Hi.” You whisper the words, pushing love down the bond.

“Hi yourself.” He responds by sending a wave of his own down the bond, his voice matching the volume of yours. “You feeling okay?”

“More than.”

You both chuckle at your words.

“Fuck, I missed this…missed you. I love you.”

“I love you, Cas. I’m so fucking happy you’re home.”

“I’m happy to be home.” He loosens his grip on you and glances down to where your bodies are still joined. “You ready?”

“My legs might be a little shaky, help me stay on two feet?”

“Always.”

Cassian gives you a deep, slow kiss before he pulls out of you. Your brow pinches and you let out a small whimper at the loss of him inside you. He sets your legs down gently and your knees begin to buckle before he pulls you into him, keeping you stable. He presses his face to the side of your neck, breathing you in and taking a moment to fully realize that he’s home with his mate.

“Should we finish this shower before we use every drop of water from the Sidra?”

Cassian responds with only a bellowing laugh as he moves to grab your favourite wash. He washes you from head to toe. Taking special care when cleaning the mess between your thighs, your body still responding to every pass he makes.

You then do the same. Washing away the few bits of grime left from his mission, especially those on the delicate membranes of his wings. Cassian knows you don’t miss how he tenses when you brush over the bruises covering his top half, the adrenaline of your tryst having fully worn off. You throw him a look that speaks volumes to his owing you an explanation.

“Tomorrow…I promise.”

You accept his vow with a nod as he turns the water off. He catches you stifling a yawn as he turns back toward you. Without a word he picks you up once more, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Let’s get you to bed, my wonderful, beautiful mate.”

Cassian walks you both straight through the bathroom without stopping.

“Cassian, we are soaking wet.”

“Your point being?” He enters the bedroom and moves to his side of the bed.

“The sheets, Cas. They’re brand new.”

Without losing his grip on you he lowers himself to the bed and settles you directly on top of him. He missed feeling the weight of your body over his own, of having his mate with him as he slept.

It takes only moments for exhaustion to hit you. Cassian’s words are the last thing you hear before drifting off into the deepest of sleeps.

“Fuck the sheets.”

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

Hi Sweet🖤

could I please request some Bodyguard!Price x Socialite chubby f!reader?

• He's late 30's, she's mid - late 20's

• despite being a socialite, reader is anything but social. She's introverted house plant with hobbies including being alone and keeping to herself.

• She's been through bodyguards before , because she hated being treated like a daft rich person so Price comes in under the impression she's spoilt and impossible until he sees a whole different story.

• Price goes from 'I'm gonna hate her guts' to 'I want to be in her guts'

• Please add forced proximity (living together), and give them that teeeension 🥺

• nsfw is 1000% welcome if you're keen.

There's no rush for this at all if you decide to do it, whenever is convenient for you is fine by me. Please write this however you feel is most comfortable to you. I'll appreciate it all the same 🫰🏼

Thank you🥀

Sorry this is late!

At first he doesn't like you. Flat out. Retiring early from the military caused him to need a sort of transition job so he figured he'd take on being a bodyguard. He definitely has the credentials, so why not?

He's not a fan of rich people, but hey, money is money. What he wasn't expecting was to be set up with a pretty thing like you. It almost made it worse. He figured, given your lifestyle, that you'd be like the others.

You're quiet, direct, and come off a stuck up. You never keep conversation going, and he doesn't bother to finish. It's his job. He keeps you safe. That is all he is required to do.

It all changes when you go to a social gathering, a political part to celebrate a successful election as of late. He hadn't seen you in a social setting before until now. You're just like how you are at home; Quiet, reserved, not talking unless needed to.

He realizes your behavior towards him isn't one of defiance, or being stuck up, but one of nature. He realizes it's possible social anxiety. It would make sense. You were pressured from a young age to be surrounded by people, standards higher for you than other people, every movement being watched.

His attitude towards you changes almost immediately. He makes you tea (or whatever drink you like most) for you before you wake up. He watches tv with you in the living room, allowing you to warm up to his presence in a more comfortable way. Conversation starts slowly, but eventually you become close. You apologize for being so closed off and unwelcoming at the beginning, but he reassures you that he understands and came to realize you just needed time.

It isn't until around 8 months that he begins to notice you. He walks by your room to the guest room (basically his now) when he hears a whimper from yours. It doesn't sound like pain, but he pauses outside your door just incase. It isn't until he slows his breathing that he notices the soft buzzing coming through the door. Your whimpers sound more strained, trying to keep quiet but you let out a moan as you gently swipe the vibrator over your clit. You turn it off, panicked that he may have heard you, but turn it back on when you notice there's no noise.

He stays for your climax, unable to move if he wanted. His cock is restrained in his boxers, painfully tight. You sound so pretty as you cum, he can't help but his heads feels all fuzzy. He quickly walks to the guest room, not even bothering to quiet his footsteps. He cums so hard that night, imagining your pretty lips wrapped around him. All spread out below him, pussy gripping his like a fucking vice.

A month passes by since that night and he can't help but get hard every time your hand brushes against his arm, unable to keep his mind off of if that's the hand you used. He excuses himself every time to go wait for his cock to soften before being around you again. It gets to a point where you begin to think he doesn't enjoy being around you.

He overhears you talking to a friend on the phone about how he's been distant. You admit to her that you like him and don't understand why he's acting like this again. His stomach sinks a little when he realizes it's upsetting you, but he walks away before you see him.

Later that night, he hears the buzzing coming from your room again, but it's different this time. Your whimpers come out as pants, his name tumbling from your mouth as you begin to feel the knot in your stomach form. He groans and pushes the door open. You yelp and try to cover yourself but he yanks the blanket from you, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your ankles.

"You been hidin this from me, love?" He taunts, spreading your legs and taking a look at your pussy, "Look at how wet she is. Why're you hidin her from me? It's okay, I'll treat her good" He says before getting on his knees and showing you how much he wants you.

[mrsevans90]

Puppy Love-Epilogue

Captain Syverson x OFC Emma Miller Part 19

Summary: Austin Syverson has returned to Texas after retiring from the military and starts his own contracting business. Syverson is used to being alone and thinks he prefers it that way. While at work he stumbles upon an injured and abused puppy. When he meets the new veterinarian in town, Emma Miller, he is immediately smitten with her. It turns out Emma has some baggage of her own. Will they be able to make it work? Or is it just a case of fleeting puppy love?

Pairing: Henry Cavill as Captain Austin Syverson x OFC Emma Miller 

Warnings: Flash forward, fluff, smut, handjob, fingering, squirting, P in V intercourse, oral (f), creampie, innuendos, language, pregnancy romantic love making.

MINORS DNI! Must be 18+

I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 

This story is not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

A/N: I am an imperfect person who makes mistakes. All that I ask is to please be kind and if you enjoy it then please comment and REPOST! I appreciate any love, comments, and reposts more than you could know. Thank you for reading!

Part 18

Flash Forward in Time:

I wake up with a gentle bump against my side and hazily blink my eyes to allow them to adjust to the darkened room. Emma is still blissfully unconscious as her head rests against my chest and her nude body is draped against mine. I tend to get warm but this woman somehow always seems to be cold. I don’t mind one bit as I’ve spent the majority of my life sleeping alone and I sleep so much better with her body against my own. I smile at my perfect woman and gently move her disheveled hair from her face before I feel another gentle nudge against my side. Our baby boy seems to have woken up and it won’t be long until he wakes his mother up too. Luckily, she’s a heavy sleeper but I’d imagine having a human being rolling around in your abdomen could wake up most anyone. I reach down and caress her swollen belly to acknowledge my little boy and hopefully soothe him back to sleep by rubbing her tummy. Emma is almost eight months along now, and needs every bit of sleep she can get. As I touch her tummy, I think about what life will be like once our little guy finally makes his appearance. We haven’t nailed down a name for him yet, but Emma keeps admitting she likes the idea of naming him after me and calling him AJ, for Austin Junior. I’m pushing for him to have his own name and identity, certainly not wanting him to feel like he has to follow in my shadow. I like the names Luke, Hudson, Grant, and Bradley, but ultimately, I’m going to leave it up to Emma to choose her favorite. She’s doing all of the hard work after all. After a bit of gentle caressing on her belly, our son seemed to calm and Emma messily rolled over and wrapped herself around the giant pregnancy pillow that’s taking over her entire side of the bed. I won’t complain because I’ll give her anything to help her be more comfortable. I decide to ease out of the bed and get the day started because somehow in all my years I can’t shake the early wake up times that the military instilled in me. I quietly corral Mills and let him out in the backyard to use the bathroom. Aika passed away early last year and I’ll be honest, I took it hard. My nightmares started coming back more frequently and Emma convinced me to talk to my therapist at the VA about it. I still miss that sweet girl but know that she had such a fulfilling life here with us. She’s buried out in the backyard under a large oak tree so that we still feel her spirit close by. Mills also really struggled in the first month after her passing, constantly looking around the house for her. He always adored her and was used to following her lead but he’s doing well as he’s matured from the puppy stage. I spent some time training him after our wedding and now he knows all of the commands that I had taught Aika which is helpful, especially now with a growing family.

I start up the coffee pot and know I’ve only got a short window of time before responsibilities call, so I sip on a cup of coffee while I start making breakfast. As I’m plating the pancakes at the table, I hear movement upstairs and know I need to intercept quickly. I bound up the stairs and open the bedroom door to our three-and-a-half-year-old twin girl’s bedroom. Molly Grace and Maggie Kate are out of their toddler beds and already digging in their princess box regardless of the fact that it’s not even half past six on a Saturday morning. They squeal when I scoop them up and place kisses along each of their cheeks.

“Da Da! Ouch!” They giggle as my beard scratches against their cheeks. 

“Sorry little darlins” I respond before tickling their tummies. 

“Now what do we have here, already getting into the princess box?” 

“I want to be Tiana!” MG says followed by MK who declares she is going to be Ariel. “Well, if I get you girls dressed in your princess gowns, y’all gotta promise to be quiet on the way downstairs so we can let Mama sleep in. Is that a deal?” I ask.

Both curly headed girls nod their heads fervently. I’m certain that won’t last long as my daughters tend to be a bit exuberant, but I’ll take what I can get.

“Alright then, bring me the dresses and then we have to brush your teeth before your dragon breath knocks me out.” I joke. 

A somewhat endless feeling half hour later, I successfully have both girls dressed and with clean teeth. Their hair is still a disaster but I’m working on learning. God, if the old me could see myself now. Googling videos of how to braid hair or make a ponytail. Emma usually does their hair and tries to show me a thing or two when she has time. The girls have dirty blonde hair, not quite as light as Emma’s, but they both got my wild curls which Emma adores. 

I’ve got them set up with chocolate chip pancakes, fruit and milk cups as they tell me about what movie they want to watch later and constantly interrupt each other as they ask for this and that. 

“Nana and PawPaw want y’all to come over today to help Nana bake a cake. Does that sound good?” I ask knowing that the girls are over the moon anytime they get to go to my grandparents’ house. It’s hard to tell who loves it more, the girls or my grandparents. I’m grateful for a potentially quiet afternoon with Emma, since we won’t have too many of those in the future anytime soon.

“Oh yeah! I want to do that! Can we make cupcakes?” 

“That’s all up to Nana. Y’all just remember that she’s old and y’all don’t want to wear her out.”

“Yeah, Nana’s real old but PawPaw is even older. He’s like 104.” Maggie says.

“No he’s not! He’s only like 23 I think.” Molly retorts. 

“Y’all really have no idea about numbers yet and I find that adorable.” I chuckle to myself as I hear Emma making her way down the hall.

“Good morning, Sugar. Hope we didn’t wake you, I was trying to let you rest.” I kiss my girl sweetly while rubbing her swollen belly.

“Wasn’t you, your son decided to dance on my bladder.” She grumbles and I chuckle. Even all this time later, she still isn’t a morning person. She shuffles further into the kitchen and the girls jump up and give her what I’m sure are sticky syrup covered good morning hugs and kisses. I pour Em a cup of coffee, adding her creamer and she holds it with both hands with a grateful sleepy smile.

“So Ariel and Tiana, what are we talking about this morning?”

“How Nana’s old.” Molly announces and Emma almost chokes on her coffee.

“Who told you that?” Emma asks and both girls point directly to me. Little narcs.

“Well, she is! I was just telling the girls to take it easy on her today.” Emma rolls her eyes at me before walking to the table

“Don’t tell Nana that she’s old.” Emma tells the girls.

“But she is old, mama.” Maggie refutes.

“Yes, but it’s still not nice to say. We don’t want to hurt Nana’s feelings.”

“Does Nana not know that she’s old?” Molly asks inquisitively.

“I’m sure she does baby, but spending time with you girls helps her feel young. Now, how about you girls work on making Nana and PawPaw some more drawings for their refrigerator? You know how much they love those!” Emma directs.

“I want to draw Mills chasing chickens!” Molly shouts.

“I’m going to draw PawPaw riding a cow!” Maggie exclaims.

I chuckle as I watch them scurry over to the little kiddie table off of the kitchen that Emma has made as their art station and get to work.

Emma has shifted to working part time and it’s been great. She stayed home with the girls at first, taking an extended maternity leave after they were born but found that she missed the vet clinic and working with animals. We decided on sending the girls to a “Mother’s Day Out” program where they attend half days so that Emma and I can both work. Our jobs give us the flexibility to be able for one of us to pick them up at 1pm each day and have them home in time for an afternoon nap.

Emma relaxes back at her chair at the table and starts eating some breakfast.

“Little man let you get decent rest last night?” I ask her and she shrugs while chewing her food.

“I felt like I got up more times to pee or roll over than I actually got rest, but I suppose that’s just going to prepare me for the newborn stage of having him up every two hours.”

“Hell, just think about how much easier it’ll be with only one baby this time.” I think back to how exhausted Em and I both were in the first few months home with the girls. We struggled to get them on the same feeding and sleeping schedules. It felt like as soon as we got one to sleep, the other was screaming and waking everyone up. Em and I were so tired we basically just roamed about the house like zombies during the night. I feel like I coped a little bit better than Emma since I was used to insomnia, but she was determined to breastfeed and didn’t want to mess up her supply. After a few months, I finally convinced her to pump some milk for night feeds so I could help more with a bottle feed during the night and let her rest. 

“Gosh, I hope so. They were worth it all, but damn I hope this baby sleeps.” Emma sighs.

“Given any more thoughts on what you’d like to name this handsome fella?” I ask. 

“I still like AJ, but I’ve been thinking about it and I also really like the name Grant ever since you brought it up. Grant Syverson just sounds like a future star quarterback.” She says and I smirk as I munch on a few berries.

“I like that a lot, Sugar. It’s a very strong name. One he can be proud of. Perfect for our boy.” 

“I was thinking the middle name could be Joseph after PawPaw?” She suggests and I have to take a moment to just awe at this woman. PawPaw was always a taciturn man with a steely exterior but when Emma became part of the family he opened up to her more than I ever imagined. Always imparting words of advice and stopping by to check on her when she was pregnant with the girls and I was working. Nothing could have prepared us for the absolute mush that man turned into when the girls were born. PawPaw seemed to get a new lease on life as he dropped everything to spend time with his “grandbabies”. He wanted to teach them all about the farm and loved showing them all the animals. He was wrapped around their fingers and we all joked about it. 

“I don’t think anything could make him prouder. I love that idea, baby girl.”

“Let’s wait until he’s born before we tell him.” She suggests and I agree.

“Walt doing okay now that he’s back at work?” Emma asks.

“He’s having a hard time focusing, which is understandable. He’s itching to get home every night to Cassie and baby Carter.”

“Yeah, Cass mentioned he’s got terrible FOMO when I was over there last week. He’s afraid he’s going to miss something.” Emma responds.

Walt and Cassie really hit it off at the wedding and before long were in a serious relationship. She moved to Texas with him about eight months into dating. They got married a little over a year ago and just had a little boy, Carter, who made Walt light up in a way he hasn’t since Faye was little. Emma loved having Cassie close and it was nice having Walter so happy and working more reasonable hours. Faye came to visit as often as she could which was also good for Walt. They only lived about ten minutes from us and Emma had been over every day last week to help Cassie since Walt was on his first week back to work from paternity leave. I remember how hard it was to leave Emma and the girls to go back to work.

“It’s tough to leave your wife and new baby and go back to work but I’m sure he’ll adjust. I remember facetiming you like every hour that first week just to check in.” I reminisce.

“I remember.” Emma giggles. “My big strong army man was a nervous wreck about missing any moment with his girls. It took some time but I think we found a good family/work balance that keeps us fulfilled.” 

“I keep you filled.” I mutter with a smirk.

“Austin!” Emma feigns shock. “Clearly you have.” She murmurs as she pats her round belly and I look at her with smug pride. 

“Think Nana and PawPaw would keep the girls for a night?” She wonders aloud even though we both know that they jump at the chance to keep the kids.

“You know they would. Got something in mind?”

“An impromptu night alone with my handsome man sounds pretty perfect to me.” Emma bites her lip and I feel the surge run through my body as I quickly grab my phone to call Nana and confirm that the girls can sleepover with them tonight. Emma heads upstairs to pack the girls an overnight bag and before we know it, we’re loading them up in the truck and headed to Nana and PawPaw’s.

After a lively drop-off and quick visit with Nana and PawPaw, Emma and I were back in the truck and driving out of their long driveway. 

“I feel like we’re teenagers who just got permission to go out for the night.” Emma joked. 

“That mean I get to cop a feel? I ask as I pull Emma closer to me and run my big hand across her exposed thigh gently dragging her sundress higher.

“Thanks to these pregnancy hormones, you’ll be feeling more than that.” Emma smirks and I groan. Our sex life has always been incredible, but having two toddlers that seemingly always want something, and a very heavily pregnant wife who struggled with morning sickness longer than expected made us slow down a bit. Emma finally got to feeling better and the hormones lately had been keeping her extra needy which I was more than happy to accommodate. 

“Lunch date at Gia’s?” I asked and she nodded enthusiastically. Baby boy had Emma craving pasta all the time so I knew she’d be excited. 

After eating a nice meal, we made our way home and smiled at the rarity of quietness inside our home. Even Mill’s seemed excited about staying with my grandparents for a night of chicken chasing and homemade treats from Nana. The house was all to ourselves and I was ready to get Emma naked and spend the rest of the day in the bed.

I reached for Emma and pulled her into a kiss. 

“I love you, beautiful darlin’.” I told her between kisses. Her swollen tummy had me leaning a little further than I usually do for these types of kisses, and I couldn’t help but lean down and place a soft kiss on her belly too. 

“I love you too, baby.” She replied as she pawed at my abs in an attempt to take off my shirt.

I pulled my shirt over my head and Emma’s nails immediately sunk into my chest hair as she gently scratched up and down my torso.

“Let’s get to our bedroom so I can properly get you naked, Sugar.”

I led her upstairs to our bedroom and took my time undressing her slowly before laying her down on the bed. She has been feeling a bit self-conscious lately as her body stretches and swells to accommodate our growing son, but I do my best to reassure her.

“You’re so pretty, Darlin’. Every bit about you is perfect.”

“Sy, I’m huge. Be truthful.” She sasses.

“No, you’re pregnant and growing my kid. That I put into you. Something about that turns me on even more. Plus, your tits are huge and I can’t wait to sneak a taste of them when your milk comes in again.” I smirk at her devilishly.

“Austin, you are downright depraved.” She giggles as my hands paw all over her body.

“Only for you, Sugar. Now, let me finally make love to my bride without any interruptions.” I say as I plant kisses along her collar bone, sliding down to her belly and then the juncture of her thighs where her perfect pussy is already glistening in anticipation. I rub my calloused hands along her thighs and spread her open for me as I lick a long stripe up her folds. Emma is extra sensitive lately and jumps at the sensation with a loud moan before her hands find the short strands of my hair and grab on. I lick, kiss, and suck on her delicate pearl before sliding two fingers gently inside her and curling them. A few minutes after I began my ministrations, Emma screams her release as she squirts and her fluids coat my chin and forearm. I drink down everything she gives me so I don’t waste a single drop of her honey. I begin to place gentle kisses on her thighs as I work her through her high before I kiss up her body to check on her. I’m greedily tempted to work her to another orgasm, but know that she’s extra sensitive right now and it might be too much for her. I make my way up to her neck and place soft kisses under her ear as she reaches and grabs on to the scruff of my beard.

“Fuck, Austin. That was amazing.” She mewls with her eyes still closed as I place gentle kisses on her eyelids.

“Yeah? Feel good, Sugar?” I ask as she catches her breath.

“The best. Now I need your cock.” Emma almost whispers as her fingertips trail down my abs before wrapping around my raging erection. She squeezes just like I like before running her thumb across my slit to collect the bead of precum that’s already dribbling out in anticipation and I thrust myself further into her grasp with a groan. I watch as Emma removes her hand, spits into her palm before grabbing me again and jerking me. Between deep kisses, I glance down at her delicate little hand working my large member and can’t help but thrust against her. If she keeps going, I’m going to blow my load before I even get inside her warm cunt.

“Darlin’, I need to be inside you.” 

“Fuck me, Austin. Please baby.” I grunt as I manhandle her onto her side, conscious that this may be the best position to keep any pressure off of her growing womb and slide up behind her before lifting her thigh around me. I gently ease the tip of my cock into her warm channel and Emma pushes down against me, sucking my cock inside her wet heat in the best way. When my pelvis is fully seated against her ass cheeks, I groan and Emma arches her back which gives me the perfect angle to her g-spot. I start thrusting slowly as I suck and lick against the spot under Emma’s ear and she wraps an arm around my neck thrusting her fingers into my hair and tugging. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. So wet and tight. Just like the first time I ever fucked you, baby girl.” I grunt against her neck.

“Mmm, Austin! You feel so good inside me. So big and full.” She mumbles as I thrust into her.

“God, we fit together so good. You were made to be mine.” I murmur as I appreciate the tight, wet heat surrounding me.

“Harder, baby.” She moans and I’m so tempted to start jack hammering into her perfect cunt but am worried about hurting her more than my desire to fuck hard.

“I don’t want to hurt you or the baby, Sugar.”  “You won’t, I promise. Fuck me please!” She moans and I can’t help but pound into her a bit harder as she claws down my arm that’s holding across her perfect tits. I have the perfect view to watch them bounce over her shoulder as I fuck her from behind and can’t help but start gently tugging at her nipples which earns me a louder moan from her.

I remove my arm from her breasts before I shove two of my fingers in her mouth. She sucks fervently before I reach down past her tummy and start rubbing them against her swollen clit. She’s so easily stimulated that I have her cumming in a matter of moments. Her tight pussy clenched me so hard that I couldn’t hold back my own orgasm and found myself releasing deep inside her before I had intended too. I stilled my hips and shoved my cock as deep as I possibly could as I finished before collapsing back down onto the sheets, not caring how sweaty we were. Emma and I laid perfectly still basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking as the ceiling fan whirled above us before I slid my softening cock from her body and she whined at the loss.

Emma clumsily rolled over to face me and laid her head against my chest, her fingers combing through my chest hair as my fingertips trailed up against her spine.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked her as we basked in the silence.

“I’m thinking that I want you to fuck me like that again before the night is over… and I want to take a bath with you… and I might also be thinking about the chocolate chip cookie dough in the refrigerator.” Emma replied as I croaked out a hearty laugh at how her thoughts were all over the place.

“Why, what are you thinking?” She asked.

“I was honestly just thinking about how grateful I am for you. I never thought I could have any of this. I was just this broken, shell of a person who went through the motions of everyday life. I swear, I never really thought I’d find love like my grandparents and then I met you. I’ve always been so independent and now, I swear to God, I can’t imagine being away from you for a single day. You completely changed me for the better and gave me so much love and passion. It’s like you woke me up and I started finally living life. Oh, and not to mention our babies. God, I love them so much even when they are being little brats. You and our kids just complete me. I can’t wait to see how our son joins in the mix with our baby girls. I’m just so glad I found you. I’ve never been this happy in my life.” I tell her honestly as I think about how my life has changed in just the past 5 years before I hear her sniffle.

“Sugar?”

“Now I feel like an ass for thinking about eating cookie dough when you were making this big declaration of love.” She sobs as the tears flow down her cheeks and I can’t help but laugh out loud.

“It’s not funny, Austin! That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever heard and you know I feel the same way.” She laugh/cries as I bite my lip to keep from chuckling at the absurdity of her pregnancy hormones. She looks up at me with tears still in her eyes and can’t help but start laughing herself. I finally allow my laughter out and we spend the next few minutes laughing so hard that Emma has to get up and waddle to the bathroom to pee which just makes me laugh even harder.

I head to the bathroom after her and start filling the bathtub and lighting candles before helping Emma step in. I make a quick run downstairs to the kitchen and get us some waters and the entire roll of cookie dough with a spoon before I head back up and present the princess with her snack. 

Her eyes fill with tears of gratefulness that her beloved craving is about to be satisfied which has us laughing all over again as I join her in the tub to what we jokingly still call marinating in our ‘body juice soup.’

Emma rests her back against my chest as she feeds me bites of her dessert and I can’t help but feel more fulfilled than I ever have before. My future now is not some bleak possibility, but filled with excitement and joy. I owe it all to a bit of puppy love that became the love of my life.

Taglist: @shellyshellshell, @henryownsme, @caramariehurst, @beck07990, @mollymal, @kingliam2019, @syversonswife, @identity2212, @starfirewildheart, @hannah9921, @wa-ni, @kneelforloki, @cutedoxie, @enchantedbytomandhenry, @foxyjwls007, @geralts-yenn, @courtlynwriter, @corrie1013, @squeezyvalkyrie, @summersong69, @livisss, @mayloma, @uunotheangel, @warriormirkwood, @sofiebstar, @wetzilly, @ashbrat488

A/N: Y'all, it's finally here! I'm so so sorry that it took me so long to get this written and posted but #lifehappened and I'm a bit of a perfectionist so I wanted it to be right. Thank you all so much for following along on Sy and Emma's love story. Your support and encouragement has lifted me up more than you realize. I'm so grateful to everyone that's followed along! I'm super sad that it's over but there may be a one-shot or two in our future for them! Love you all!

[flowery-laser-blasts]

What are , your Head Cannon , for Drakken and Shego and , Kim and Ron :

Got lots of headcanons so I give 3 random ones for each: Ron - In Pre-K, Ron received a very colorful and glittery friendship bracelt from Kim. He wore it all the time but eventually got bullied for it by other kids. One day Kim noticed that he didn't wear it and thought it was because of the bullies, she decided to not mention it. The real reason why Ron didn't wear it is because the braceltclip broke off, causing the beads to fall everywhere. He spent an entire afternoon trying to find back all of the beads and repair the bracelet, but with his parents being to busy, he placed the beads in a little bag and kept it in his treasurebox underneath his bed, where it still remains till this day. - Ron is smart but it highly depends on what the context is. If you ask him to solve an equation, he'll be having a hard time. But the moment you ask him the same equation but make it sound like it has to do with "figuring out how many coupons I need for Bueno Nacho" or so... he'll solve it within moments. - Ron takes care of his nails and hands, especially since he's into cooking. He doesn't want anything underneath his nails nor does he want food to stick to him while preparing stuff. Hygene is no 1 priority when it comes to preparing food; eating food, however, is a whole different story. Kim - After the Zombie Mayhem tournament, Kim secretely continues to play the video game. She doesn't want to admit it but it was more fun than she expected it to be. She secretely trains in order to surprise Ron with a match someday. - Kim and Ron decided to dress up as Miriam and Jonathan for Halloween Trick or Treating and later on Kim reused the costume for her presentation on Miriam in college. - Kim has become less worried about brands over the years, especially after realising how dumb it was after people wore her mission outfit for a few days, only to jump onto the next best thing. She still is into looking into the latest fashion but thrifts it and tries to make it her own. Together with Monique they started upcycling clothes. Monique has her own business now. Drakken - After Graduation part 2. Drakken started working on improving the quality of the world rather than trying to take it over: Being praised for being a beloved saviour has better gloating perks than being a failing villain that has to hop from lair to lair. Though he does miss the thrill of villainy every now and then. So he sometimes does petty crimes like shoplifting a screwdriver from Planettool or anonymously blaming a fellow scientist for causing a chemical fire that resulted in a three months shutdown..., ...some tax evasion. - Drakken's scar was a result of eyebrow trimming - Drakken has a distaste for okra and bellpeppers and will pick those out of a dish no matter who prepared it. Shego - After Graduation part 2. Shego got tasked to train some of Global Justice's newest agents. She enjoyed it and eventually became an independent hitwoman for a while. After that she just decided retiring early is nice (especially with the money Drakken was making for both of them with his new job). She now does whatever... pretty much what she's always been doing. But also meets up with Kim and rekindled their sisterly bond in stop team go. - Shego is a horrible cook and either relies on someone else cooking for her or having take out/going to a restaurant. However after retiring early, she decided to try and get into cooking... a bit... the kitchen burned down. - Shego hates to admit it but the Snowman Hank song became an earworm. She hummed it once and noticed Drakken smiling widely from the corner of her eye.. or was that just her imagination? She doesn't dare to ask...

Hope it all makes sense. Still recovering from a cold so my typing isn't the most coherend at the moment :')

EDIT: I WISH TUMBLR WOULD STOP SCREWING UP THE COLORS IN THIS POST

[spoiled-fawn]

Part 1: Meeting John Price

Western AU; Mail Order Spouse Trope

WC: 3,131 CW: None

AN: My beloved! John Price! Would love to hear your thoughts and comments, as well as any questions. I hope ye enjoy <3

Please see the following for the explanation and precursors to the scene!

Introduction, Biography

--------

Truthfully, you’re glad you didn't have many friends in town, as it meant no one to share unnecessary secrets with, nor did it spread any word of what you were up to in your free time. 

However, that isn’t to say that you trusted at least some people in the small town you lived in, such as your boss.

A scapegoat for you to write your correspondence letters was that you simply had to stay late on the farm, working extra long hours because of something that was messed up, or because you knew your parents wouldn’t argue with the fact that you were getting more money.

Feeling that you were a decent enough candidate for John to consider since you are working as a farm hand already, you decided to write your first correspondence the next day. Once sent, you received a letter back from him four days later and by god, did he sound like such a gentleman. 

You were able to soon confide in him on how you wanted to leave town, start fresh, but stick with what you know since you did work on the well-known “Loyal Laswell Farm,” and help out around their farmhouse with common jobs such as sewing, cooking, and even making a dirty barn looked organized- a man’s dream spouse.

With only two weeks passing and less than a handful of letters to be traded, you already had money and an open invitation to John’s ranch. Through your correspondence, John stated that he had already known of Kate Laswell, her having been a long ago buyer from him and even she had sought out advice on taking care of her lambs long ago. 

John connected the dots and realized that you were the trusty youngling that she hired early on; He already trusted your morale if Laswell had kept you after all this time. (And if Laswell did gloat about you once in a while, that was a secret between her and John.) After finding out about the mutual connection, you confided in her. 

Kate, already knowing of your family’s vices, was pleasantly surprised by your major turn of life events and how quickly your fate had been granted to you in the form of Price. She made sure your head was screwed on straight enough that if it didn’t work out, you could mail her and she would help you figure it out from there…

Kate’s wife chimed in and said you and Price would be a great fit.

The two women gave their aid to you in the form of gifting you your favorite horse to ride off on during your long journey. You only brought a handful of items from your parent's house, slowly, and used the remaining amounts of wardrobe you kept at the farm to pack up. With two bags packed and some food, feed, a gun being courtesy of Laswell’s wife, and a celebratory pack of cigars for John (Kate’s wedding gift), you were on your way. 

It only took you a week by horseback, luckily traveling near the Oregon Trail that had already had sorted paths cleared and lived-in, you only needed to stop when you and your horse did. You were able to send John updated letters, but were not able to receive them due to constantly being on the move. This left you daydreaming about him.

John wrote that he is originally from Deadwood, South Dakota. He comes from a long line of lawmen and followed in their footsteps in his early adult life. However, as John became sheriff and notorious for his hardened but fair demeanor, he began to see the justice system slip through the cracks right in front of him. Murderers would walk away and many left unjustly prosecuted in other cases. It angered and dwelled on him so much that he retired early on. John soon found his solace in the quiet mountain town of Pitkin, Colorado. John describes himself as a proud man who is protective and respectful, an old soul who loves his whiskey - and is looking for his strawberry wine. He is a weathered man who can fix any problems of yours, all at the cost of a shoulder to lean on and someone to spend the rest of his days with.

Coming into Pitkin, it brings forth a small town nestled within luscious green mountains and a strip of shops down the main road that highlights most of the town's activity. Riding through, you were an obvious sight to be had; a new face set out on a horse with minimal bags packed on the back. You didn’t seem like a traveler, no, you seemed like someone who was on a mission to find something- someone. 

Smiling and giving small nods towards those who stare, your cheeks have a faint blush from the attention as you ride down the strip and toward the end of the town. Soon, the signs have a label of a bull, a common connotation of a ranch, causing you to garner up a bit more hope and hold your head high as you click your horse into a canter. 

The sound of your horse's hooves thundering on the ground cannot beat the thrum of your heart; riding over the hill, you’re greeted with a breathtaking view of the Alpine mountains that dip into a valley with an absurd amount of leveled planes that make you believe the land was spread flat by an inviting entity. Your eyes come into focus on small black dots that move before you make out to be the shape of cattle grazing across the green and flowing grass.

There sits a house atop the hill that is before the dip of the valley, where a fence surrounds a large barn that is directly adjacent to the house. You bring your horse to a slow walk as you take in the view of the wooden house; it's a cabin-styled home but large in the additions that have been formed around the sides, making it one of the bigger houses in town. The barn rivals its size by double, and the open stalls along the side let you glimpse into the hay-filled homes of horses that linger near the fences. You have to do a double take when you see movement in the barn that is all too human-like, then pulling the reigns of your horse once a few feet away from the entrance to stop and watch. 

A man stands, low grunts leaving him as he stretches his back before grabbing a hay bayle and beginning to break it up. He wears a worn-out pair of jeans and a cowboy hat as his low whistling breaks the silence between the surrounding horses neighing at your new appearance. In an instant, you know immediately this is John.

To your surprise, your horse greets the others in a sharp jeer of noise, causing him to turn around in surprise his eyes dart up at you.

For a second, you’re humored at the look he gives, not expecting something so sweet as you to ride into his ranch and most likely expecting someone within the town to come to bother him. 

But in an instant, he knows exactly who you are. 

After his shock wears off, he sets down the hay and reaches up to take his cowboy hat off and place it on his chest as he walks toward you. Letting out a low whistle, his eyes roam over you with an enamored stare. “God was just showin’ off when he made you, sweetheart.” Comes the low timbre of his voice, sending a small fire of desire shimmying through your vertebrae. 

A soft smile graces your face in return, halting your horse for the time being as he comes up to you. “Good morning sir, would I be right to assume that you are John Price, the owner of this ranch?” You ask after a moment of your eyes trailing over him, taking in his face and ice-blue eyes while he approaches to help you down from your horse.

“That I am, Sweetheart. And I suppose you’re the one that I’ve been lookin’ so forward to meetin’, that right?” He asks in return, a small smirk taking his lips while he helps you lower down from the saddle. You smile at the extended hand, taking it as you swing your opposite leg out of the stirrup while feeling the touch of his other hand coming to caress your hip in a gentle fashion.

"I hope you've been as comfortable as one can be on a week-long ride," John comments softly, keeping his hand on you once you're firmly planted on the ground as his eyes scan you from head to toe. "How you feelin’?" He asks sweetly, now finding your eyes with genuine affection in his tone.

In response to his lingering touch on your hip, and feeling it travel to your waist with a brief squeeze before he lets it fall, you give him a small squeeze of the hand you're holding to. “Not too shabby; was able to get a room a few of the nights along the way. I’m thankful for the good weather I had while getting here.” You respond as you shift your saddle-sore hips for a moment and reorient your limbs to standing. 

"You're not so shabby yourself, sweet thing'." He compliments softly as he releases you, then grabs your horse’s bridle and releases the bit before attaching his own lead to it, and a small feeling of surprise crosses your mind at how easily he handles new horses. Then, gesturing for you to follow him. "Come on. Let me show you around." John leads with comfortable confidence, letting your horse sniff him while leading him to an open stall with some water and feed. 

“Thank you for letting me bring my stallion here, Laswell gifted him to me when I was sayin’ goodbye. Said you may remember him from when he was a foal?” You prompt with a tilt of curiosity at the edge of your words while you join them in the stall to unload your bags and take the saddle off.

Looking back towards him, his eyes are looking over the horse for any identifiers, hints that would make him remember. “Not quite sure I remember this one, sweetheart. He got a name?” John asks in response once finished doing a sweepdown of his mane and a quick swipe of his hair coat.

“Laswell said he’s always been named Captain.” You answer curtly, now looking to see his reaction, if any.

It takes a moment for you to narrow in on the way the left side of his mustache twitches slightly before he breaks out into an all-out smile. “Well, I’ll be damned…” John trails out as he moves back towards Captain's head.

His blue eyes shine in the light of the barn windows, meeting yours for a moment while a boyish charm takes over his face. “This slick bastard got you all the way over to me?” John speaks with a gruffness that intertwines with amusement; the way his hands move to rub over the horse's forehead and nose showcases a glimpse of a gentle side reserved for his animals.

As you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion, John catches your expression and gives a hearty chuckle in response. “I helped birth this one the day that Kate came up here to buy some lambs. Her wife was cryin’, thinking that him and his momma were gonna die.” He answers before moving to give Captain a pat on his chest, a huff of his breath coming out in response. 

“He had both him’s front legs back during contractions. Had to help the mare by pushing his fat head on in to get him to readjust. Kate and her wife saw the whole thing.” He finishes with a hum and a distant look in his eyes only for a second, now coming back to your side and picking up a bag of yours.

“This all you got? Woulda expected a bit more from a woman movin' out west, especially to the cold mountains.” He states with a cocked eyebrow, eyeing as you bend down to hoist the remaining bag over your shoulder. You both give Captain a farewell tap before exiting the stall and heading towards Johns's house.

You wait on replying for a moment as you take a longer look at the structure, noting the wooden panels that exude a warm and weathered patina, a testament to the house's endurance against the harsh elements of the wild. The front features a symmetrical facade, with a steeply pitched gable roof that displays a combination of wooden shingles and iron accents. Windows are evenly placed on the front-facing sides of the house, and shutters open to allow glimpses into the inside.

“Didn’t have a lot to bring if I’m being honest. Just packed up what I liked and wanted, then left.” You answer with a confident nod, leaving it at that. “I did plan on finding some new or old fabrics to start making winter coats for myself.” You add on quickly, thinking over how quickly the chill must set in within the mountain valley.

You follow John onto the front porch of the house, “Ah, you do some of that fancy work or just plain work?” He inquires while gesturing for you to step inside the entrance. You’re greeted by a spacious entryway, designed to be practical and modest. The floors, made of polished wide planks, creak softly under the added weight of yourself next to John, a new soul to provide protection to in the house.

To the front of the entryway, is his living room, its centerpiece being a grand stone fireplace, providing warmth and comfort during the chilly evenings. Leather upholstered furniture invites warmth to the house, and you can see a good amount of hides used as a rug and even a throw blanket over the couch, while ornate coffee cans and some intricately shaped vases linger around the surfaces. 

The sound of your mouth opening and closing resonates in the silence of you two standing there before John shuts the door softly behind you and ultimately snaps you out of your daze. “Um, just some plain work. Never had the time or materials to work on some fancy clothes, would rather make things I know I’m gonna use.” You answer while moving to face adjacent to where he stands in front of the door.

His eyes track your own as your attention comes back to rest on him, a small smirk tugging on the edge of his mouth. With a quick laugh, he moves to place his left hand along your back, his cold fingers sliding to the place between your shoulders. “Welcome home, Sweetheart.” He smiles while speaking softly, leaning over to place a light kiss atop your head. 

When he moves back from your space, which you want to ultimately follow as you feel his warmth radiate next to you and already adore the way his voice dips impossibly lower when speaking so gently, his hand slides down to the small of your back and gives a small tap to lead you forward. “Come on, let's get you settled in.” He beckons you while walking to a door that is adjacent to the entrance.

Walking in, John’s bedroom exudes a haven, signifying his rest and relaxation at the end of the day. The warm, earthy tones of the wood and furniture create an internal warmth, in contrast to the view of the surrounding mountains of green and glimpse over the cattle that wander the land, the windows laden with lace curtains.

The bed was the average size for the master bedroom; The double bed sat its headboard against the wall to the right of the entrance, facing the windows. A large red quilt adorns the bed while the bed itself is a robust wooden frame with upright pieces of carved and sanded wood posted taller at each corner of the bed.

In the corner is another stone fireplace, where an armchair sits to serve as a place for John to unwind, read a book, or reflect on the day. A well-worn wooden dresser stands against one wall, its surface adorned with a few cherished mementos - a faded photograph of him on a horse, a weathered pocket watch that has seen countless sunsets, and a small collection of polished rocks, each one possibly a reminder of a special moment.

"It's not much." He pauses before speaking again, his tone becoming more personal. "And I'd love to have you share my bed when you're comfortable. However, if you need time to adjust, I can set myself up in the living room. I don't wish to pressure you if you're not comfortable yet."

The sweet and respectful offer doesn’t fly over you, and a small smile rises over your lips. “Thank you, John. That’s awfully considerate of everything you’re doing for me. I don’t want to burden you with sleeping on your own couch, I wouldn't mind.” You answer while slowly walking to the dresser, placing your bag down by the foot of it.

“It may take a few days to adjust and get to know you, but-” you take a second to turn around and look at his form with a small shy smile, “I don’t think I’ll keep you waiting long.” You finish as a soft blush rises to the apples of your cheeks. Your hands come to interlace together in the front of your lap as his heavy footsteps make their way towards you with a bright smile that borders a smirk.

He stops in front of you, holding eye contact as he places your other bag down. “Ain’t no way in hell I’d be letting you sleep on the couch, sweetheart. But, I do look forward to hearing your answer. When you’re ready for it.” He speaks in a gruff voice, eyebrows raised to make sure you're taking his answer to heart and understanding, his warm hands moving to enclose both of yours within his grasp.

Bringing your hands up to his lips, you watch with rapt attention at his mouth puckering and in turn, making his facial hair move in the action, then leaving a warm and gentle kiss on the back of each hand.

His eyes don’t stray from yours while doing so, his blue eyes bring an inviting wave of ice- the kind you actively seek when you’re feeling too hot or need to wake up. “Now, how about I show you the rest of the ranch, babydoll?” He asks with a soft grin, pulling you just a fraction closer by the grip of your hands.

[keruimi]

The Way Back to Him

Sanemi x reader

Warning! Heavy Angst with comfort at the end

Note: I went overboard that I'm not sure if all of you would accept the leads🥹 Early Apologies. Secondly, please inform me if Sanemi's character is too ooc. I would gladly do better next time.

~•°•~

I fell in love with the person who had a painful backstory.

__________________

"Sanemi-san, my apologies but I can't return your feelings" she muttered as I sighed and leaned my back on the wall. I notice how her grip tightens on her uniform.

"I know. Because everyone sees me as rude, it's impossible to admire my personality at all" I started before standing back up so I can walk back to my estate to rest.

"Sanemi-san, it's not like that" she exclaimed as I just looked away from her.

"Don't worry, I just want you to know about the emotions I am feeling when I'm around you. I don't expect you to return it at all" I manage to stutter out without putting most of my emotions as I saw how her eyes start to gloss.

"I..." She didn't have the heart to tell what she is thinking that made me thought to leave already.

The atmosphere is overwhelming me...

"I'll retire first" I slightly bow in her direction before turning my back at her.

"Sanemi-san!" She shouted my name that made me halt from my steps, I didn't manage to go farther yet.

Maybe because I didn't have the heart to leave her yet...

"Maybe a part of it was my reason" she stated as I felt her quick breaths while I just looked at the empty road in front of me.

"But I don't know you better than you did. I don't know your story" I felt my chest tighten on her words.

"So forgive me if I can't tolerate your impulsive and abrasive attitude that you displayed to all of us"

I turn my body to the side so I can glance at her who is looking down while trying to get a hold of herself.

"If I did..." I trailed off that made her raise her head to look at me who is facing her.

If I did...

There's a huge possibility that she would see me in a different way than the world did.

But...

"Nevermind" I didn't continue anymore before making my way back to my estate as I left the atmosphere in silence.

There is still that slight chance that she wouldn't.

Storytelling would just open their eyes to your perspective. But it wouldn't bring them the same reasons why you did it.

I need physical evidence... An evidence that can prove my love to her.

But I don't know how I can show those emotions without losing the walls I build around myself.

The walls I used to prevent myself from forgetting her.

I arrived back home and my brother decided to ruin my eardrums for the third time today.

"You confessed again! Stop fooling yourself!" He screamed and an irk mark appeared on my forehead.

"Why don't you shut up you idiot!" I screamed back at him as I harshly threw a pillow in his direction before slumping back down on the couch as my thoughts wandered around until my little brother began to speak, more serious now.

"But Big brother, you still haven't forget about her. You can't push yourself to other women when your mind is always on her! That is unfair to them!"

I look down and thought about the words he keep repeating every time this happen.

I want to move on...

Every time my heart seems to catch on a different woman other than my first love.

I convinced myself that I love them but it was never enough.

I silently went back to my room after my brother tried to register his words to my mind but it didn't help me at all.

After all, I start believing she left because she still have dreams.

Our love is the only reason to stay but she has more reasons to choose the future she planned for herself.

I tiredly grumble to myself and thinking about her just reminds her warmth on my bed.

For goodness sake Sanemi, pull yourself together.

After the sudden meeting with the Master, I decided to take a stroll in the garden to calm my nerves down on the Kamado Siblings.

No matter what, she is still a demon. The blood of those monsters is already running on her body. That won't change anything.

I stop ranting on my brain when I notice there's another presence in the garden other than me.

In that one part of the garden, I notice the visible figure of a lady who seems to be in her own world, picking some useless flowers.

I raised an eyebrow on her actions before walking towards her and my footsteps immediately warned her about my presence as she stood up from the dirt before looking back to face me.

I don't know what has gotten to me but it feels like everything became slow motion the moment she turned around to look at me.

Her hair flows with the wind as her green orbs gaze at my own.

She looks like a beautiful memory.

"What are you doing? Aren't you aware which territory you are trespassing?" I ignored how my heartbeat quickened as I looked at the small basket she was holding.

She lifted a gentle smile before bowing to me.

"I was tasked to pick up herbs from any garden by Shinobu-san. My apologies if I startled you by my presence"

Such a gentle voice from a woman like her. I thought she would stammer or even become jolly like the other servants I came across.

Yet she manages to compose herself in front of someone more superior.

"What's your status in the Butterfly Mansion?"

I asked her as she properly stood up before answering me. "I am the provider of the herbs used in the medicines"

I nod before she went back to what she was previously doing. Out of nowhere she lent me a damn flower.

What would I do with this?

"That is Lavender. It helps with stress, my Lord"

She informed me even though I didn't ask yet. My frown deeper as I held my back on throwing and stomping on it.

"How can you make sure that I'm stressed?" I ask her as she just shrugged her shoulder before showing me a playful smile.

"Well, it's really up to you if you will admit it" she confidently answered.

Point taken...

Unknowingly, I have the urge to get to know her better. Even if it was against my wishes, my human emotions is also not giving in to my plans in life.

I'm already fine with flings but it seems like fate have other plans.

I knew I fucked up when I started to look for her presence. Yearn and longed for it.

And if I found her, we spend most of our time together in the garden because I got to know that it was also her habit to teach about the herbs she is collecting.

Sometimes, she is the one who can relax my nerves without even the herb she is giving to me.

I knew I was already sinking deeper in this uncontrollable emotion.

That I want her to stay, stay beside me.

But I don't know if I can give her the happy ending that is impossible to achieve.

When my job is to annihilate the lurking demons in the land. Too dangerous to settle down.

Yet even I tried to deny, oppose, or even refuse my developing feelings for her, there is already a change in my character before I manage to prevent it.

That I want her to be with me.

And that led me to me telling my growing feelings for her. And how can I hope she would like me back?

I still remember her words as clear as now.

"I don't like your character, My Lord. Your harsh and cruel attitude. I can't tolerate it but I know there are reasons" she started as I listen to every word she has to say.

"But that is the problem too, I don't know your story, I don't know you. So I am not sure if I can manage loving you."

Her words are full of honesty and no ounce of playing. She stated her reasons and I accept every word of it.

I decided to court her that day.

In two years, I showed her my weakness, I told her my fears, I shared my reasons.

I fell first, and I fell harder

I love how her mind was opened and her ears are ready to listen.

Every single second I fell in love deeper with her until she finally accepted me as her partner.

It made me so happy, Shinobu just ruined it.

"Are, Are? I don't accept it" she told me that an irk mark appeared on my forehead.

I don't know if she is annoying me or just wants to be sadistic. I heard her sigh that made me realize she is serious.

"Sanemi, Y/n became a close friend of mine too. On your reputation for the past years, how can I be assured you would not hurt her nor break her heart?" I can feel the care she has for my partner that made me give a pat on her shoulder.

"That would not happen"

"You better be or I will kill you"

And I continue to love her, if possible, even fall deeper.

Sometimes it scared me too. I am aware that she is becoming my weakness. And every night it scared me that one day, she would leave me.

But her kisses, her gazes, and her embrace held my biggest fear away from me. I loved her even if the world end.

That was a promise I tried to keep.

"Hun?" She called me as I lingered kisses on her exposed shoulder as our naked bodies warmed each other.

I hummed and put my attention back to her and notice she is thinking of something deep.

I snake my arms around her waist before I pull her closer to me so I can lay my head on her shoulders. "What's bothering you?"

I ask her. She hesitated to open up to me that made me squeeze her hands as she let out a long breathe.

"Would you allow me to leave? So I can pursue my dreams?" She ask me and I felt my whole body froze from her words as she turned to look at me with worried look in her face.

It felt like a knife just stabbed me without letting me react.

"Am I not your dream?" I decided to tease to lighten the atmosphere around us. But she just squeezed my hands indicating she was seriously asking me.

Yet the small smile on my lips never leaves. It hurted me, really. But I don't own her.

I just love her...

"Do you need to leave just to reach it?" I ask her as I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Do you really need to leave me?

"Yes" she whispered before looking away so she won't see my face.

"Would you come back?" I asked her as I tried to prepare my heart for her answer yet silence was the only thing I heard.

I can feel the ache in my chest as I just hid my face on her shoulder.

I can't make her stay at all.

It made me question so many things, so many memories of ours. Why would she give my love a second chance if she will not stay in the end.

That was my first question.

And it can be a reason to hate her.

But I didn't have the strength to. I can't hate her, not even one bit.

"Big Brother" I heard Genya call for me, trying to get my attention as I daydream again on the same garden where I first met her.

The moment she left, the taste of bitterness never left my life. Every single day, I could never forget the person who is my first time in so many things.

Chisuzu Y/n

How can you break me so easily? Why is it easy for you to abandon me?

You were my universe, you were my world.

And you left me for a dream you could have pursued with me. Why? Out of all ways for you to hurt me, do you need to leave me completely?

What can you do Shinobu?

When your friend was the one who broke me.

"Big Brother" my younger brother called for me again. "What" It was an irritated answer and both of us knew.

I would barely keep my past self from coming back again.

I became the same person as three years ago before I met her. Realizing I felt this heartbreak because I made her my weakness.

And it was my biggest mistake.

"Slow down Sanemi. You might lose yourself if you get too drunk" I heard Tengen's words but I keep going as they just didn't bother stopping anymore.

I drowned my sorrows, I buried my pain. Yet it always ends on the same thoughts lingering on my mind.

I gave her everything, but she left me with nothing but memories.

I want her back beside me...

~•°•~

"You want to become a swordsman with that lousy tactic? You hope to become better yet you are not doing anything for it. You think you can easily pray for it and they will bless it to you?" I exclaimed to one of my students as the others stayed silent. The anger in my tone was evident that I might explode any minute because of frustrations.

"Get a grip on yourself and do better!" I shouted before the student bow and accepted my words.

"Brother" I heard Genya behind me, his tone was not the usual serious one, it was more shock and worried.

Did someone die?

"What?" I asked him with slight annoyance in my tone.

"She is back..." I felt my world stop as I didn't have the guts to look at him.

But I felt how my gaze softened even at the slight mention of her. I felt my heart quicken like the first time we met but I still didn't bother to move from my place as I tightly held on sword.

"Are you not planning to welcome her? She is now on the Butterfly Mansion..." He informed me as I huffed out in disbelief.

I don't have the heart to. All the pain I felt when she left me was still evident, was still present and felt.

But she was the first one who decided to approach me.

"Hun..." I heard her gentle call of our nickname as I felt her hand snake around my body as she laid her head on my back.

"I'm back"

I felt my eyes sting as tears started welling up on it.

I don't want to turn around, I don't want to break again.

"I'm sorry for leaving you" she murmurs as I feel my hands touch hers.

"I can't hate you..." I finally spoke out as I turned around to face her. Nothing has changed for the past two years she left.

Two years that felt like a decade.

"I'm sorry Sanemi. It was selfish of me to leave" she admitted as she tightly clung to me.

"I almost lost it" I stuttered out as the ache in my pain never left.

But I was glad

She returned back to me, safe and sound.

"I won't leave anymore. Above anything, I would always come back to you. Only you till the end." She muttered before she tipped toe to land a kiss on my lips.

"Forgive me..." She asked with her gentle gaze towards me.

And how can I resist?

"So many people already told me that you were not worth it" I cried out as I lost the strength to keep standing in front of her as she kept holding on to me.

We were both alone, crying out the pain of our hearts.

"I don't want to give up our love even though I feel like I was the only one fighting for it" I tightly clutch to her as she offered me her shoulders to cry on.

"You became a villain to everyone's eyes but you were my hero, you made me become a better person when you were here" my sobs were uncontrollable that if anyone was watching, I would lose the reputation of the heartless mentor.

But the only thing I could think of was her.

"Y/n, I really love you... I really do"

"I know, I know that very well..." It was evident in her tone that she was trying to hold herself back from crying.

I don't have the heart for revenge, nor the heart to hate her. Because our lives are short, I don't want to waste it on another long journey of pain anymore.

We can always restart again...

And I'm willing to do it as long as it was with her...

[kinky-pen]

Got any general Ouran headcanons?

More disorganised, general thoughts!

Tamaki:

When Tamaki found out about renfairs, the whole host club wasn't just dragged to one (I don't believe they're a thing in Japan, but I may be wrong), Tamaki made them help him organise one. Yes, Kyoya had thought he'd escaped budgeting for Tamaki's whims in adulthood, and yes he felt stupid for thinking that.

Paints his nails frequently. It's an activity he finds fun, but he also repaints them constantly because he changes his mind about the colour constantly! He also wants them to match his outfit, and god forbid he plan ahead.

Was raised Catholic in France, but finds much more love for the aesthetics and community than the religion himself.

Haruhi:

Haruhi was always androgenous, but she embraces her gender nonconformity and identity even more as they become and understands themselves. Lots of lovely suits, both masc and fem. (They do use all pronouns, also, but use she/they the most)

Keeps the short hair!! I know she grows it out in the manga, but the short hair is nicer, more in character, and Haruhi said on multiple occasions that they prefer it.

When she's a lawyer (not if, let's be real), she's actually scary good at employment law and making sure companies compensate and treat their worker's fairly (comrade Haruhi, everyone)

Kyoya:

Keeps a sketchpad handy a good portion of the time. He found art really relaxed him, and he's pretty talented at it, but he'll keep it to himself as it's something he actually considers for him, not profit or prestige.

Has had a crush on every member of the host club, at some point, except Hanni for obvious reasons (boo, you whore)

Has diagnosed depression, and is half convinced he has a personality disorder of some flavour. He can be a bit of a hypochondriac, however, and his doctors haven't confirmed anything as of yet. Who knows.

Hikaru:

Dyes his hair constantly, all sort of colours. Like Tamaki and his nails, Hikaru recolours his hair very often - as soon as he gets bored of it. It got to the point where he dyed it four times in a month, fried it all off, and had to get a buzz cut. He eased up a little after that.

Loves getting tattoos. He's one of those people that really love the sensation of it, and he also gets a cool piece of art on his body forever! Yes there's something wrong with him, he's seeing a therapist!

Loves spending time in his office, tinkering about with new things - whether it be finding new ways to put together certain pieces of hardware, or coding new software. He can disappear in there for days straight, sometimes (he has a mini fridge stocked with drinks and snacks, don't worry)

Kaoru:

Goes through phases of growing out his hair, then cutting it all off again. Changes hairstyles frequently. When you're head of a designer brand, you do have to balance keeping up with the latest trends with setting them, and I think Kaoru does well with both sides of that.

Loves flower arranging (which is semi-canon), but it's something he keeps up his whole life.

Kaoru actually does have some """mild""" HPD (that's the phrasing he uses, but he generally means he's high functioning) he's just like me frfr

Mori:

This man matures like a fine wine. Will always be attractive, honestly. He went from hunk to DILF to GILF effortlessly.

Still wins Judo competitions and such well into his early fifties, but decided to retire from competing at 53 due to some joint issues. Still keeps it up for fun and health, though.

Had a bit of a revelation about putting his foot down and protecting his boundaries during university. It actually helped him a lot with the self destructive tendencies he has in canon.

Hunni:

Living his best life with his goth wife! He just adores that girl so much and she'll kill for him! (Ask her to kill for you, Hunni, she really wants to)

Takes up baking his own cakes, which does actually save money in the long run - not that they need to worry about that.

Had a similar revelation to Mori in university, caused by Mori standing up for himself more. He realised that he can still be true to himself and what he wants, without running roughshod over those who care about him. He can still be a little selfish, but better than what we see in canon.

Also, as this is a kink blog and I don't really want to encourage engagement from people not into NSFW/are minors - please only 'like' this post if you're the aforementioned :)

[serve-corps]

Yuri Plisetsky x hockey reader

~~~°•○•°~~~

Yuri Plisetsky. A sixteen year old with almost no time to spare in his life at all yet he's built himself a large enough ego to be named the 'Russian punk' and the 'Russian fairy'. how? don't fucking ask me. he's got talent on his blades that's only grown since he showed a liking to the sport. his effort increased his skill. That is why he's dedicated himself to figure skating.

(y/n) (l/n) however, is a seventeen year old with plenty of spare time on her hands and an alter ego. She herself is also known as the 'jet of (your country)' as well as 'the bullet' see, she's an ice hockey player. a international one. she was also skilled on her blades, she had such control, she could choose her speed at any point.

never in a million years would they both meet; for their professions may be similar but they hate each other. hockey players are far more aggressive on the ice, usually after an ice hockey game, there are large uneven dips in the ice which is a hazard for figure skaters. hockey prioritizes speed and control rather than figure skating which mostly focuses on spins and jumps. That's the difference between them and their skates. hockey skates are rounded while figure skates are pointy and stabby.

the only reason you play is because you grew up on the ice, your father used to take you to a public skate and get you one of the polar bears to keep yourself up. he taught you by tearing you away from it and pushing it away, forcing you to skate to it by yourself to get back your stability polar bear.

it doesn't help that your older brother was also a very renowned ice hockey player and a few of your friends took up hockey as a hobby, all your life clubs revolved around the sport, and you got annoyed at anyone claiming to be a big shot in the ice world that didn't know the dangers of it. the fist fights, the blades, the ice burns, the breaking of bones, the slamming into the sideboard, and not to mention how FUCKING COMPETITIVE EVERYONE WAS!

you were one of 3 females on your team, out of 18 players, you were the most famous. you kicked your brother's ass in fame, he retired early as he decided to gain another profession, he coached little ones on the side for a job but that was out of loyalty for the sport.

one of the girls was a goalie, someone who defends the net meanwhile the other was a defender, They stay behind close-ish to the goal to keep the puck out of their side of the field. you, however, were centre. one of the most active roles, the person who scores and 'usually' gets into the most fights.

Yuri however, was Russia's national figure skater, he was a young prodigy, who was not only coached by the same coach as Viktor Nikiforov but was acquainted with him. he won gold in the international junior league so he aims to be the same in the senior division, the adult version of that bullshit.

we know what Yuri aims to be, his goals and plans, we don't need to go over that.

lets head to the present.

~~~°•○•°~~~

today you had the skating rink booked with a friend, you came from money as well as your brother trying to encourage your career. your boots were laced as you were on the ice with a stick, puck and a goal. the staff let you borrow a goal for practice.

You two were shooting at the goal left and right, working on perfecting your aim but your friend's stamina dropped after the first 15 minutes. yours, however, was still high and mighty being known as the 'jet' or 'bullet' because of how fast and how long you can go for.

you came off with your friend and handed her a water bottle, casually chatting as she was panting. you heard the doors open and this blonde guy?- girl? you couldn't tell, walked in, and opened the door to the rink.

"Who the fuck brought this shit on the rink?" the words flew out of his mouth harshly with a Russian accent. he hopped onto the ice and you noticed his 'fancy' preppy figure skates.

he skated towards your goal which you set up with a hassle, he started lifting it up with great difficulty and trying to drag it off.

"этот кусок дерьма!- (this piece of shit)" he said, mumbling to himself while grunting.

suddenly, the owners of the rink slammed open the doors and shouted, "YURIII! THE RINK'S BEEN BOUGHT OUT FOR THE NEXT 3 HOURS! I forgot to tell you!!"

she bowed in an apology.

"well, I don't see them. so it doesn't matter-"

at that moment, you stood up and grabbed your stick, you picked up a bag of hockey pucks and threw them on the ice. the bag was now empty and you tossed it aside, stepping onto the ice with accuracy and speed, you dribbled the puck back and forth and shot at the net, close to where Yuri was to scare him off.

he jumped back in fear of getting hit and let out an "ack!-" as he fell onto the cold ice. you sped up your skating and headed straight for him, he tried to scramble out of the way but you were too fast, he braced himself to be a hurdle or something but he ended up getting sprayed by ice. you stopped right in front of him, creating a large wave of shaved ice to flow over him. it got in his hair and face, not to mention his clothes.

he looked up at you and scowled only for his face to change in shock, you were smugly resting your chin on your stick while having one leg crossed behind you. to everyone else, you looked like a stuck up prick.

that applied to Yuri too, but you were beautiful, the lights made you seem angelic while your hair looked almost sexy, up in a ponytail with a few pieces dangling, framing your face. your boots made you seem masculine, your hoodie and leggings didn't help. smash- next question-

his face was slightly dusted pink with a scowl on his face, trying to hide his flusteredness by masking it with being cold. at least you don't have a pretty voice-

"sorry sweetie, but currently this rink is mine! come back in two hours and forty five minuets or stick around and fawn over me until our booking is up.." you said with a sly smirk on your face never leaving once, your voice teasing yet alluring. soft even yet it has a taste of authority.

"черт возьми…(holy shit...)" he breathed out softly with his cheeks going slightly pinker, barley noticeable to everyone.

accept you. you were towering over him see? you could see everything about him. and his steadily growing blush.

however, you're not a ahem- dick so you ignored it and just turned your sly smirk into a genuine soft smile. you dropped your stick to the side by the pile of pucks and knelt next before him.

"ok, sorry. didn't mean to scare you shitless. truce?" you said with a chuckle. Yuri shook his head as if he was ridding himself of thoughts, your chuckle even sounded pretty, no no! You're known as the Russian punk! you can't like someone!

he blinks a few times, trying to calm his panicking mind and he pulls himself up, so do you. "I mean, if you do want to stay, you're more than welcome to take over the music" You shrug at him as your friend joins you on the ice now. he thought she looked mediocre compared to you. but the owner was staring at her and...drooling?

your friend was considered the hot one in the group. You're hot too don't worry, it's just, this one wears makeup and push-up bra's excessively to get everyone's attention. you go natural and your tits are naturally big, you just wear guys clothing.

but not to him. you were the hot friend to him. He couldn't keep his eyes off you for longer than five seconds. honestly? you noticed and thought it was cute, you thought he was cute. every time you caught him oogling, you winked and he scowled looking away.

your friend started gesturing with her hands getting your attention to 'wrap it up', so you did.

"if you couldn't tell, we're training right now, so we sort of need the ice." you said gently only to be cut off by his voice,

"yeah, well I have a championship coming up, its not as important. move."

"I paid for this blondie. I'm not leaving the ice." you said seriously. he doesn't seem to recognize you and you didn't recognise him either so all is fair.

the owner, however, thought differently, she took a photo of you two going face to face with each other, Yuri's face still slightly pink with a scowl and yours with a finger pulling down an eyelid and tongue stuck out of your smiling mouth; leaning towards him.

"ugh. fine. ill wait. but don't think this is me being kind you bitch." he stomped off the ice, purposefully making massive dips with his toe-pick skates.

"alright little mister kitten whiskers." you roll your eyes and chuckle to yourself at his temper tantrum. you don't even know this dude yet you can tell what he's like if he's acting like this. somehow you thought he was cute. shrugging your shoulders, you grabbed a puck and started doing manoeuvres and passes with your friend, trying to figure out what works best for you both, turns out you both excel at passing the puck by throwing it up in the air with your sticks.

it's not an illegal move in hockey but it's very rare and unique, tricky to pull off because you can't hit another player otherwise you get sent to the penalty box.

Yuri watched with interest despite trying to hide it by 'looking' at his phone. after doing a trick shot and succeeding, it was your trick so you started celebrating, jumping on the ice and slowing your skating to dive onto your friend.

"100% using that in our game!!!!" you squealed in joy, your friend holding you up from falling was laughing with you and at you for your celebratory, stupid state.

Yuri couldn't help but faintly smile at your joy, he thought it was cute. you seemed to be really good at this, he hoped you were happy with your life. hoped it was better than his at the least.

your eyes flickered to the boy sat on the side, his eyes quickly flicked away from you and back to his phone, you sighed as picked yourself up, skating over to the 'sullen' boy.

Yoinking his phone out of his hand that was unlocked, you turned on Bluetooth and connected it to the speakers of the rink. handing it back to him you grabbed his arm and pulled him so he was standing up.

"the hell?!"

"wanna skate or not pretty boy?" you said bored, pointing at his phone, knowing damn well he was gunna be pissy if he didn't, and you didn't want that for some reason.

he growled and trudged onto the ice, you're still holding onto his arm, dragging him into the middle.

surprisingly you and your friend didn't make much mess of the ice, it was perfect to skate on. he did a test jump and landed it and smirked. You raised an eyebrow at his smugness about something you could do if you wanted to.

you shimmy off your hoodie and throw it over the side, showing a tight compression shirt, it was cropped so it was a very flattering item on you. Yuri's eyes widened then blushed, turning away for a second to mentally prepare himself because you looked fine as fuck.

turning back to you, you gave him a smirk and pulled off the exact same jump as him in harder skates. he stood confused until he realised it was a challenge. and you were so on.

he smirked and started bragging, "haa? someone like you can't compete with a professional! your call тупица~ (dumbass~)" he cackled out.

he started with a single salchow and landed perfectly as its one of the easiest jumps for a skater.

somehow, you watched how he did it and you copied it to the point miraculously without a single slip up. his eyebrows rose at this, he decided to try a Lutz, it would be almost impossible to do it because you don't have a toe pick and you've never done it before. he finished the jump perfectly and looked at you smugly, as if he was rubbing in that he was better than you.

you didn't take that lightly.

as you did before, you watched how he did it, skated backwards on your left foot, used your right foot to stab into the ice and pick you up, kicking you into the air, you turned yourself around in the air in a 360⁰ turn and land on your right foot, still skating backwards. you stumbled on the landing slightly with your skate wobbling but still landed perfectly no less.

Yuri's jaw dropped a little bit only for him to close it quickly. how the fuck could someone in hockey skates do that with no toe pick?!

he coughed into his hand, trying to regain some sense. this time will be an axel. the hardest jump there is.

"i know you won't be able to do this little bitch!" he shouted as he skated and completed the perfect single Axel. he was even going easy!

you watch with intent and intensity once more. so the difference is that he lands skating forward instead of backward like the Lutz? hm okay..

once again, you copy his moves, you struggle a bit now and as you landed, you didn't land straight and went off diagonally, having to use your other leg to keep balanced. "Hold on! let me do it again!!" you shouted annoyed, you thought you could do it!

you took a start and jumped, you ended up over-spinning, deciding quickly to turn again in the air, you twirled twice, and somehow landed straight. "see! I can do it!!! yes!" you did a little celebratory dance once more while Yuri stood there stunned. you don't even know it but you actually did something harder than he just did. you did a double axel while he did a single axel....

Yuri was annoyed no, pissed. he took a start once more and committed himself to a quadruple axel, the hardest jump possible, you saw that it was the same type of jump and tilted your head in confusion, he just span more? does that mean he fucked up too?

"do it exactly like I did it and ill get off!" he snarled with a grin, a grin that annoyed you.

"fine! you span four times, right? watch." you said stretching your arms across your body.

you set yourself up for the jump and it started, you stuck the tip of your toe in the ground, lifting you in the air, you span...and span...and span...and- CRASH "FUCK!"

your body skidded on the ice and your body was skidding toward the dash boards (boundary walls) head first, your leg was in pain as though it was pulled and that distracted you until your head slammed into the wall, the rest of your body following in suit.

"fuckfuckfuck" you mumbled out.

Yuri stood shocked, fuck he was worried, how bad were you hurt?

he sped over to you and got on his knees, "shit are you okay?!" he asked seriously, your friend following after him, she saw you holding your leg and knelt next to it, straightening it out which earned some curses from you but she undid the boot and carefully took it off, making you let out a sigh of relief.

the blonde felt bad, he shouldn't have dared someone who was brand new to do jumps try and copy him like that. his ego got the best of him.

"how bad does it hurt?" he asked, his accent somehow calming you down despite its aggressive nature.

"i just pulled something, I'll be fine just give me a minute...ugh...ow..." you sat yourself up and leaned against the wall. your ass felt numb from how cold it was. using the side to help yourself up, you stood on the leg with the skate still on, you used your loose foot to gently push you forward, gliding on one foot to the door to the benches.

plopping yourself down on the benches with a thump, you massaged your leg gently, you know you'll be able to ignore the pain soon enough, you play professionally for fuck's sake.

five minuets go by and you're no longer feeling much pain, you start lacing up your boot back onto the leg you injured, getting ready to go back on.

about to step onto the ice, you notice how Yuri picked up all the loose pucks that you already had shot at the net and gathered them into a pile, not to mention a frown on his face.

he looked up from picking up pucks and clicked his tongue at you, he spread his arms wide, letting all the pucks he was holding drop back onto the ice and sliding off to different places.

your friend looked at you, flicking her eyes to him quickly then back to you, raising her eyebrows up and down suggestively with a grin. you picked up a stray puck and threw it at her, she ducked just in time as it hit the glass boundary. She snickered at your reaction, your face ever so slightly pink.

you sighed and skated over to the pouting blonde and patted his shoulder. "it was my fault. I tried something I never tried before. I was bound to fall!" you chuckled as he turned away from you, still grumbling.

"alright pissy pants, you can join us on the ice every Tuesday at this time, okay?" you ask gently leaning to go into his field of view, his face slightly red at proximity.

"get away from me you whore!"

"ouchies..." you fake an exaggerated frown, trying to fake being emotionally hurt, his expression faltered for a second, looking back at you to see if you genuinely took offense but then scowled at your face turning into a shit-eating grin at his concern.

"FUCK OFF YOU PRICK" he skated away as you laughed at his flusteredness.

"blondie! do you even know my name?" you said wiping a 'tear' from your eye. he turned his head over his shoulder in your direction, egging you on.

"(y/n). (y/n) (l/n) the hockey player? have you not heard of me?"

"well, how the hell did you not know I'm Yuri Plisetsky?! Russia's national figure skater! haaah?" he said with a snarky attitude.

"hm? oh I think I heard of you! I think my brother's-friend's-dad is your coach! yakil? no- Yakov! how is he? he said this Viktor guy was being a pain in the ass last time I heard." you chuckled to yourself, not seeing Yuri seething quietly, his face going more red with anger.

"don't act like we're on the same level!" he shouted annoyed at how calm you were, he was kind of hoping you'd be excited to know he was famous but-

"I'm (country's) international player who's played in multiple games worldwide and won. I don't care." you said, waving him off as you skated away.

soon enough, your practice was over but he never said no to seeing you every Tuesday.

sooo he showed up nearly every time. in return, you watched him skate, both at practice, and cheered him on at competitions, sitting on the benches only the skaters were allowed on.

your games that were in the same area Yuri was in at the time usually had an extra visitor of the figure skater himself, you made sure he was sat as close as he could be to your bench, and you did try and beg your coach to let him sit with you but he shot you down.

his anger issues helped cheer you on, it was sweet, knowing he was cheering for you, it made you more fired up than before, and nearly everyone on your team noticed, and so did the commentators'. you heard them over the loudspeaker,

"seems the bullet has a special fan she's listening to in her ear ladies and gents!" you stumbled at this and dropped your stick on the rink, snapping your head to the commentators up in the seats. "seems she didn't want that put out there! oops!"

laughing was heard throughout the rink as well as chuckles from your team and the competitors.

these interactions happened more than you liked to admit, you also didn't want to admit that you started to like the obnoxious blonde who you support and supports you.

social media was a nightmare, the owner of the rink where you first met; who took a photo of you two going face to face with each other posted the photo on all types of social media, the caption being 'Yuri plisetsky x (y/n) (l/n)'. this blew up, leading to so many ship names being made, 'the punk x the bullet', 'the fairy and the jet' they were ruthless.

people were making edits of the two of you looking at each other when you accidentally looked at him for a little too long and he did the same, times here he smiled at you softly which is very out of character for him, when you two blushed at each other, the list goes on.

PEOPLE WERE EVEN WRITING FANFICTION ABOUT IT. Don't ask, you got curious and searched for it. you read them all. just for research purposes. ahem-

other figure skaters and hockey players were calling you out on the ship as well online, what shocked you the most is that Viktor Nikiforov, the famous figure skater reposted some edits, sending them to you and Yuri directly, you did some research about Yuri's world and learned about some large figures. Viktor was apparently the best of the best.

your brother also sent a message to you directly saying, "mother, father, and I all gave our blessing to this boy, bag him (your nickname)"

you threw your phone at the wall to say the least.

after a match where you arose victorious, you went to go see Yuri skate at his competition, it was in Russia and it was the uhm, what was it called? oh yeah, the Grand Prix finals. you knew it was important to him so you had to be there. you just had your final match which coincidently was also in Russia, you made yourself look nice for once.

a dress that can be worn in cold weather with skin-coloured fuzzy thermal tights and white leg warmers. you wore a white dress with embroidered cats going around the bottom of the dress, the cats were white tigers. you wore a red and white jacket, matching Yuri's training one. just for sentimental reasons. you wore red and white Nike trainers to pull it together.

you walked in with a mask on and your hair hid in a white beanie, people couldn't recognise you yet at least, you just looked like a very fashionable fan of the Russian punk.

you waited till it was Yuri's turn on the ice, taking off your mask and beanie, letting your hair frame your face, the people around you took a second glace and started squealing at your appearance.

the commentator instantly caught you in the large crowd, singling you out and saying it over the mic in hopes of getting Yuri to see you just before he got on the ice. he did.

you spotted him on the bench, he was staring right at you with a smile, giving you a wave which you returned.

his turn finally came, he got onto the ice and did a loop of the ice, stopping for a second right in front of you, flashing you a small smile before his performance.

your heart fluttered a bit as you flicked your eyes away for a second, you're not used to that kind of attention.

the music started as you gathered your self respect, only for it to be dropped back into the ground as you infatuation with him grew at how emotional his performance made you feel. all of the passion, the love, the admiration. he was putting all he had into this skate.

his jumps made you wince before your face lit up with joy at it being completely flawless, you hoped he wouldn't get hurt, his performance seemed to be directed in your direction as he kept his eyes focused on you most of the time, he did extreme jumps that looked difficult and made them smooth and flawless. he managed to tug on your heart.

even if you were a hockey player, even if you were supposed to hate figure skaters, even if figure skaters were meant to hate you, you could hear the message his serenade told you, your heart picked up as you heard his music started to slow, his eyes bearing into yours with sincerity that made you choke up.

the performance reached its climax and Yuri was left out of breath, huffing and coughing slightly, he used all of his efforts to send you this message which at this point, if he said it verbally, wouldn't have been as clear as the performance.

you held a hand to your mouth in shock, a singular tear fell from your face at the sheer beauty of his action. you watched as he went to the kiss or cry booth to see his score, it was his own personal record as well as a WORLD FUCKING RECORD!

you walked up to him and stayed silent, just following him, you grabbed the corner of his jacket and smiled, subtly saying "Yes I do too..." with your actions. his attitude raised even more at this, not only did he make a world record, his worries of being rejected flew out of the window.

you followed him to the changing rooms and stood outside the door, silent until there were no more reporters following you and there was nobody in the hallway.

you tugged his jacket again that you didn't let go of. he turned around and raised an eyebrow in confusion, you cut him off before he could say anything.

"I like you too Yuri..." you said with a soft smile, letting go of his jacket as your face warmed slightly. Yuri was worse off than you were, his entire face was bright red and he stumbled a bit. trying to regain himself he coughed into his hand then grabbing yours, he somehow pulled you closer and held your cheek, feeling how warm your face was as he stroked it with his thumb, your breath hitched as your eyes flickered from his to his smiling lips.

he looked so kind smiling at you like this, you liked it, but you liked his attitude as well. As he leaned forward you quickly cupped your hand over his mouth, he let out a surprised noise that sounded an awful lot like a squeak which resulted in a giggle fit from you, he growled slightly and pulled your hand off of his face.

only to grab your head with both hands and smash his lips onto yours, this time making you squeak, he smiled at this and started being more gentle and soft as he pressed his lips against yours with just as much passion as he did on the ice.

you both pulled away, both opening your eyes slowly and both red in the face, you buried your face into the crook of his neck to hide your face from him resulting in him wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his own face in your shoulder.

"I'm so proud of you Yuri..." you muffled against his skin, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hugging his tightly, "I've liked you for a while..."

"me too милый…(darling)…" he said squeezing your waist a bit tighter. you rocked yourself side to side in the hug, forcing his to do the same.

you eventually left his embrace only to peck his lips again with a smile, if Yuri could melt, he'd be a puddle now but your here, keeping his stable.

this time he leaned forward and pecked your lips but it lasted longer than what you did, he sighed as he finally enjoyed the feeling that he'd been craving for the months you two had been friends.

he pulled away and your lips chased after his as he pulled away, it was cute to him. your eyes slowly opened after the kiss ended and your cheeks were flushed. he thought you looked adorable and he chuckled softly to himself.

"AAWWWEEE!!!" both of your necks snapped to where the voice came from and it was some grey-haired man holding up a phone that seemed to be recording, there was another man wearing glasses and black hair who was pulling on this guy's arm mumbling something about being quiet and leaving them alone.

"I'm sorry yuriiii but I couldn't keep quiet anymore! our little Yurio has gotten himself a girl!!" his voice sounded Russian like your Yuri's. he stopped what he was doing on his phone and then you realised a second too late before he posted the video of the entire interaction onto social media.

soon enough the man's phone was blowing up and the two of you jumped away from each other's hold and were extremely embarrassed. wait a minute.... that's!-…THAT'S VIKTOR!

the black-haired Yuri started dragging him away harder, forcing him out of the room then bowing to the two of you muttering an "IMSOSORRYABOUTHIM" and slamming the door behind him.

silence followed for a bit only for a snort form you to break the quiet,

"what." his Russian accent coming out heavily as he craned his neck to you with a glare.

"nothing....*snort* Yurio~"

"MOTHERFUCKER-"

it may not be common, or socially acceptable but who knew that a famous hockey player would end up being with a famous figure skater? not you two, or the media. you two were a trend from there on, an iconic duo.

[simonsrosebud]

heyy I'm absolutely in love with ur foxes next gen socmed au like they're so funny and chaotic and thus I have a foxes next gen au living in my head rent free cause of it😭😭😭 anyways I'd love to know more about ur ocs or even get more content of them😞😞 (picture me holding out a cup to u begging for more of ur foxes next gen socmed au)

brb i’m falling in love with u rn😭🫶🏼 i love them w all my heart check the bottom for a gift

As mentioned in the socmed au, Elliot has ADHD, dyslexia, and anxiety.

Abram helps Elliot’s ADHD a lot when they start living together freshman year of college because his patience is unrivaled. He doesn’t get bothered by Elliot losing track of his point mid-speech or excessive talking, or when he’s easily distracted.

When Elliot is unable to sit still or starts fiddling (aka picking at his nails) Abram will give him his hand to fiddle with instead (and it makes Abram’s chest flutter) and will actually limit him to 10 minutes when he gets hyper-focused on a task and says “one more minute” bc it’s never one more minute.

Amalia doesn’t always look indian to people (based off my google search that Muldani is an indian surname) and she gets pissed off when people ignorantly decide point it out. She likes jokingly pulling the brown skin card to the other fox kids as a power move: “Annie go grab the TV remote” “You grab it” “Is it because I’m brown? Are you being racist?”. She pulls it with Kevin too but he does not put up with it.

Annie is such a daddy’s girl that when Andrew babysits them as little girls she clings to him all day and follows him around with her little hand in his. It’s jarring for him the first time she does it.

Jace treats Elliot like a little brother and it’s very wholesome and needed. The Boyd’s only live 25 minutes from Andriel so Jace and Abram see a lot of Elliot and Blake once Andriel folds them into their lives.

It takes Blake a while to let go of her mother hen tendencies over Elliot bc of how they were raised.

It also takes Blake one single week living with them to realize that they are not only retired pro Exy athletes, but literal gold medalists. She does a deep dive on them on the internet and freaks out a bit when she reads the stuff about Neil’s past. Neil is very open with her about it and offers to have them housed somewhere else if she felt unsafe, but also that she arguably could not be more safe than with him and Andrew.

Jace has a peanut allergy. In 3rd grade he tried peanut butter at school bc good dammit he wanted to try it. It was very good but he immediately went over to the lunch aide to get his epipen. Matt picks him up from school and is in awe that no no, this was not an accident.

Due to being raised in Georgia (where Matt got drafted and Dan coached high school) and then South Carolina when Matt retired early, Jace & Abram have slight southern accents.

Naturally this makes Elliot shiver every time Abram calls him baby (or sugar in private).

When Sabrina is 19 her and Addie decide to take a break from their long distance queerplatonic relationship bc Addie didn’t know what she wanted, and Sabrina ends up dating Drew Barrymore’s daughter Olive for 6 months. Drew and Sabrina keep in contact amicably afterwards.

[lovelylonelymoonlight]

Bruce is seventeen years old. Bruce knows this-he can feel it in his bones. Bruce also knows that he isn’t supposed to be seventeen. That’s his first clue. The way the number settles in his mind is wrong, distinctly.

His second and more damning clue is Oli standing in his early 40s right in front of him.

The third clue is an older Zatanna starring at him with wide eyes.

God he fucking hates magic.

There are others standing around him, all wearing varing shades of garish colors; blues, reds, and yellows so bright they hurt his eyes. He also notes the item in his hands, the one he pulled off his head as soon as he’d woken up, appears to be the helm to the combat suit he’s been designing. Before he can begin to assess just how bad it is that these people have seen his face, someone speaks up and all of Bruce’s attention snaps to them.

It's the Green Lantern.

“Oh my god, Spooky’s a fetus.”

Okay not the Green Lantern, that one retired when Bruce was a kid, and this one has different features, but a Green Lantern. Bruce has been training his emotions since he was 13, but given the situation he prides himself on not asking the guy for an autograph. Khoa would definitely point out his micro-expressions of joy, he can practically hear him. He shoves his shoulders back up, reminding his body that it doesn’t matter who’s around, Bruce can never relax. A quick lecture on his failure of his previous scan before he does another. A man in blue with an s on his chest, Oliver dressed in green, the Black Canary and how he missed the fact that both the Green Lantern and Black Canary were in the same room as him is a tragedy, another man with green skin which he’ll worry about later, a woman in what looks like a one-piece swimsuit and tall boots, and Zatanna. There also is a window which seem to lead out to space.

Alright, might be his weirdest day ever, but no matter how weird it won’t be his worst. Never the worst.

All his training is for naught, because it takes him until right that second to put all the pieces together. Oliver and Zatanna are older, and there are new fully fledged heroes using their mantels as though they were their own. However, he’s been given this information, which means they aren’t hiding it. It doesn’t matter if he knows it or not. It leaves two options and he doubts that Zatanna would mess with his head like that without giving him the option. Plus, he curls his hand into a fist, his body feels off. Which really just leaves the one thing.

“My mind and body have been reverted to what they were when I was 17.”

“Well,” Zatanna says after a pause had taken over the room, “that makes my job way easier.”

“How did you know you were even in the future? That seems like a stretch.” The man in blue says, almost like he’s joking. Bruce can’t tell if it’s at his expense or not.

“The position of the stars.”

“Wait, really?”

“No dumbass,Oli’s like 40 years older than he’s supposed to be.” The man blinks and what looks like a soft smile appears. He must’ve been joking with Bruce then. Maybe.

“40!”

This is when the woman in the swimsuit interupts, she’s the only one who seems focused on the problem at hand. She doesn’t seem surprised that he was able to recongize Oliver, only noting that he knows there is someone he can trust in the situation. Bruce has no reason to trust Oli, tells her as such and ignores the exaggerated hurt sound he makes.

“We need you to trust that we have your best interest at heart, and that any information we tell you is true and any we don’t tell you is for good reason. From experience, I know it takes many years fighting by your side in battle for that trust to be established.”

She’s right. He can’t afford to mess up any plans his future self has, and that means he has to trust that these people do know him.

He thinks for a moment and decides.

“Black Canary and the Green Lantern. I’ll listen to them.”

The room erupts into chaos.

[blue-cat-ter-flies-blog]

Moar Sukugo!

Just discovered Laufey and while I haven't yet to finish her entire discography- let me tell you, she sounds like she belongs in a fucking speakeasy during the height of the American Prohibition or some intimately lit jazz bar.

Which got me thinking of Sukugo again and now I need some variation of artist!Satoru and crime lord!Sukuna. And not just something that is the JJK cast shoved into some Prohibition era setting (even then, I think Baccano! is the only suitable setting that can match JJK's general crazy).

Meiji Era or Edo-Meiji transitional era Sukugo. Satoru is one of the few/many unintentionally affected by the Westernisation/modernisation of Japan. Sukuna is some sort of crime lord/gang leader/black market dealer that everyone knows not to cross and too powerful to take down. The geisha house Satoru and the rest of his ragtag family lived in was forced to shut down because of a corrupt official and Satoru crossed paths with Sukuna while looking for a way to feed the kids he took with him.

Rich artist Satoru and Yakuza boss Sukuna who meet because Satoru was very interested in preservation of intangible art history and was arguing with some developers for this one family and Sukuna came in with an assist because while he was a Yakuza boss, he was also a man of culture and the family Satoru was defending had a rich history going back to the late Heian era.

Blind musician Satoru and weary criminal Sukuna- who decided to head to more remote/frontier regions for a more peaceful 'retirement' but got caught up in a natural disaster. Satoru's music led him to the former's home and then he wound up being nursed by the former. They were housemates and you all know how that usually ends (in fanfic) 😏.

To expand more on the 3rd since it's grown in my mind- Satoru is a self-exiled noble's bastard son and the only parent he respected and honoured was his mother, whom he got his love of music from. Other than his bastard status, the fact that he was an albino in a extremely superstitious time didn't exactly endear him to anyone but his mother and very few others.

When he was told he was going blind- he took what he could carry, whatever his mother left him after she died, his favorite instrument and left. He ended up at a remote village friendly with some nearby Ainu tribes and some other villages and began teaching reading and writing while he could see before switching to music lessons.

It's something that Satoru openly laments about once he and Sukuna get together- that he couldn't get to see what Sukuna looked like before he went blind.

"But getting to know you like this isn't so bad either. I think I would've fallen in love with you no matter my sight." Satoru would say each time with a bright, cheeky grin as he kept Sukuna within reach and touch. And Sukuna would soften for this ridiculous man each time.

This one could also be canon'verse in a way too, if you're creative enough. Maybe during Sukuna's human years- whenever that is. Maybe early on, or just before, the Heian era? But let's make it interesting.

Sukuna is the elder of them, they always thought he'd go first. Of course, obviously, but only after some more years together. Hopefully many more years together. They never thought it would be Satoru who goes first.

Satoru dies, yes, but not to curses or sorcerors or curse users or even some random Xanatos Gambit plan of Kenjaku (if he's even around at this time. Do we even know how old that fucker is? Barring his general existence at/during the Heian era). A natural disaster is what brought them together, so a natural disaster is what tears them apart. Maybe make it a flood and a landslide to make it poetic :).

Something something, Satoru gets hit by some large, inescapable debris- normie that he is in this life and time- and Sukuna doesn't have or know RCT to help heal him. Satoru's last words, along with that same bright, cheeky grin- bloody as it was now, softened by their inevitable parting- somehow manage to break Sukuna's heart like nothing else ever would.

"I'm sorry. Thank you. I love you."

And then Satoru is gone and some part of Sukuna dies with him. After Satoru's burial, he leaves the little village that they called home to wander the country once more. And, eventually, the King of Curses rises, rampages (but never near that one village), rules and is sealed for centuries until he incarnates in his unknowing nephew one moonlit night.

And meets someone he never thought he'd see again. That deadened part of himself starts living again and Sukuna immediately shelves everything to pursue his Satoru again.

[peaches2217]

A Call from the Balcony

AO3 Link!

~~~

“Ah, your highness!” Toadsworth greeted. “You’re in a bit late, aren’t you? No matter! Before you retire to your chambers there’s a few things I wanted to— y-your highness? Your highness!”

His voice quickly faded behind Peach as she passed him, her pace quickening into a brisk walk, then a light jog, then a run. She would apologize later, she decided. Toadsworth was never very far. There would be plenty of time to explain away her actions and listen to whatever it was he intended to yammer on about.

She didn’t have the same luxury at her disposal right now. This mission was time-sensitive. She hiked her skirts up and ran as quickly as her shoes would permit, the heels clacking frantically against the marble floors; she thought for a moment of kicking them off so she could sprint, but she would lose as much time in the act as she would gain from the additional mobility.

And anyway, the next corner she rounded brought her face-to-face with her target destination. She burst through the entrance to her drawing room, stumbled into her bedroom, and threw aside her balcony doors, rushing to the railing and praying she wasn’t too late.

The darkness outside made color difficult to perceive, but she recognized the red-and-blue silhouette crossing the bridge over the castle's moat all the same. A grin split her face from ear to ear.

“Mario!”

He startled, as though her call had pulled him from some deep train of thought, and quickly turned to face her. She swore his eyes lit up at the sight of her, and that filled her with an unprecedented joy, so intense that her head buzzed and warmth blossomed in her chest.

She paused then, fighting back a sudden wave of panic. She hadn’t thought of anything to say.

In truth, they had only parted ways a few minutes earlier. Today had been a rare and wonderful day in which they’d never once left each other’s side. A meeting with a foreign diplomat that morning meant Mario had arrived bright and early to serve as her guard; the uneventful meeting ended just before 1:00 in the afternoon, so she had invited him to share lunch with her before she had to bury herself in administrative paperwork. Mario himself had offered to keep her company and make the tedious task more bearable, and thanks to the constant joking and frequent mental shifts from the topics they were supposed to be focused on, the sun hung low in the sky by the time she finished. She had then offered dinner for his troubles, and he agreed on the condition that they take a short walk afterward — “Nothing worse than being cooped up like that all day,” he’d said, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck, and she couldn’t help but agree.

An hour after the sun had gone to bed, she finally and reluctantly bid him farewell, because she had already taken up his entire day and he didn’t seem willing to leave without her permission. Yet she missed him as soon as they parted, and by the time she was inside, she made up her mind that she needed to see him one last time.

Now Mario was staring up at her, clearly expecting a reason for being stopped so soon after being excused, and Peach could think of nothing but Every moment with you never feels like enough.

What would he say to that? Would he laugh? Would he be embarrassed? Would he feel the same way?

“I… forgot to tell you!” she finally said after what felt like an eternity of wracking her mind for excuses. “The main fountain in the garden has sprung a leak. I fear it will face irreparable damage if it isn’t fixed by about 2:30 tomorrow afternoon!”

Another pause, this time as Mario processed her announcement, and she witnessed the exact moment he realized it was actually an invitation — his eyes widened in understanding, and then he gave a single, firm nod. “You can count on me, Princess!” he called back.

Already Peach’s heart felt lighter. What would she invite him to do? She could get up early to bake his favorite coffee cakes and they could share them in her favorite gazebo. Or perhaps she could pack them and a bottle of wine into a wicker basket and escape the castle grounds with him for a few hours. Tomorrow’s weather was supposed to be lovely, perfect for an impromptu picnic. Or they could always just do as they had done tonight, pacing about in the fields behind the castle as they discussed any and every topic that ran through their heads.

She supposed she had a bit of time to choose. It would be rude to keep him waiting in the meantime.

“Forgive me for holding you up,” she called.

“Never!” he called in return. “It’s always a pleasure!”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow?” She backed away from the railing, giving him silent permission to break away, and she noted with a pang of amusement that he took a single step back as well, as though mimicking her.

“Of course! Can’t have that fountain breaking down, now, can we?”

She took another experimental step. Mario followed suit. Did he even realize he was doing it?

“Then stay safe going home!” Another step.

“Oh, I think I can manage!” The same step, mirrored.

“Sleep well!”

“May your dreams be sweeter than cannoli cream!”

“And may your night be equally pleasant!”

“Buonanotte, amabile principessa!”

“You too! I think!”

Mario laughed, and considering they were still calling out to one another while Peach’s back was inches from the doorframe, she laughed as well. She never wanted this game of call-and-response to end. But what other choice did they have? Mario pulled his cap from his head and waved with it, one final, wordless farewell, and Peach scrambled for her handkerchief to return the gesture. Like a noblewoman seeing her lover off, she couldn't help but think.

Eventually, Mario turned in the opposite direction, though his actions seemed slow, almost thoughtful, and he kept his eyes on her until his body’s change in position forced his head forward. Like a noblewoman’s lover desperate to drink in her image one last time. The thought made Peach’s throat feel tight.

If only…

She watched in silence as Mario walked out of sight, his cap seemingly forgotten in his right hand. She absently clutched at her handkerchief in her left and sighed. “Goodnight, Mario,” she whispered into the night.

~~~

“Guys don’t just stare at girls until they physically can’t anymore if they don’t feel something for them,” Toadette weighed in half an hour later, brushing the last of a handful of tangles from Peach’s hair. Peach just sighed for what must have been the hundredth time that night.

“Something about my posture must have been amusing to him,” she reasoned. “Or I was simply imagining it. You know how time slows when he leaves.”

Toadette stepped down from her step stool to set the ornate hairbrush on the vanity, and Peach tore her eyes from her own miserable reflection to watch as she fetched a bottle of argan oil, only to disappear behind her again. 

“You of all people have no reason to sell yourself short.” Tiny fingers massaged her scalp as Toadette worked the oil through her hair. She closed her eyes and relaxed at the familiar sensation. “You’re a princess, for crying out loud! You know how many men dream of becoming your suitor? What makes you think Mario’s any different?”

The answer was obvious, Peach felt, but tonight she felt more tempted than ever to think maybe her lady-in-waiting had a point. “Because I’m not just a princess to him,” she said, more to herself than to Toadette. “I’m a cherished friend, a trusted confidant, an equal.” 

“And nothing’s going to convince you otherwise.”

“Nothing short of him saying any differently himself.” When Peach opened her eyes, her reflection looked tired, sad. She couldn’t help but smile bitterly. “It’s a bit cruel, honestly. Knowing one of the reasons I love him so much is one of the very same reasons he could never return those affections.”

Now it was Toadette's turn to sigh.

That night, Peach settled into bed and fell asleep quickly, an overstuffed pillow hugged tightly to her chest. She remained blissfully unaware of the scuffle just outside of her door.

“I’m telling him everything!” Toadette cried, writhing in vain against Toad’s grasp on her wrist.

“Don’t you dare!” Toad pulled with all of his might, managing to drag her a few inches back before she lurched forward again.

“I can’t take it anymore!”

“You think I don’t get an earful of lovesick rambling every day too?!”

“By the stars, if they can’t take a hint, I’ll make them see the light myself!”

“This has to happen organically! On its own! You can’t rush love!”

“I can and I will!”

On the opposite side of the door, Peach dreamed of a warm summer day sharing coffee cakes with the man she loved more than life itself. She smiled in her sleep and hugged her pillow closer.

[vimara00]

Hi everyone, it's Vi! ✨ Today I decided to write something with the trope "she fell first but he fell harder" because I can. Also, I wanna wish u a Merry Christmas!!! 🎅 🎄

Hope you enjoy! ❤️ (Again, sorry if there are any grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language 🙈)

Pd: It's gonna be a part 2

All characters reservations to Horikoshi

Warnings: jealousy

Too blind to see (Kirishima x F!reader)

(Image created with AI)

Kirishima and y/n have known each other since birth as both of their mothers were friends. They dreamed of the two of them getting along and, in an ideal future, getting married and giving them grandchildren, but it was too early for the last part. They became inseparable and did everything together; They went to the same kindergarten, same high school, and even managed to enter the UA. However, because of y/n "sanation" quirk, she was at another class. But that wasn't an impediment for seeing each other every day. And when she wasn't with Kirishima and his friends, she would be helping on the nursery as part of her training. Her mentor, Recovery girl, always said that she'll take her place when she retired, so y/n needed to work extra hard if she wanted to be able to save heroes' lives during battle.

Kirishima was y/n's number one fan; she was his muse, his rock, and his 'best friend' while for her...he was way more than that. She was in love with her best friend and came with the realisation, at a very young age, that he didn't see her as a potential partner so she kept her mouth shut for all this years, scared of rejection.

However, lately, Kirishima's been more protective than normal; At first, she thought it probably had something to do with the LOV's recent attack, but certain actions made her think otherwise...

The other day, Deku came in with new injuries, and because he was a regular patient, he talked a lot with y/n while she treated his wounds. They became very good friends as she was one of the few who knew of OFA. Kirishima hadn't noticed how close they were till he came in later that day to check on Midoriya and found them siting next to eachother (shoulders touching and being VERY VERY close for his liking) reading and talking about his notes. He was standing at the door annoyed by the scene happening in front of him, and suddenly, a new sensation came with it, one he couldn't put into words, but it felt similar to fear. Of what? He was yet to find out...

He decided enough was enough and entered the room, making his presence known. Izuku might have noticed the intense look Kirishima was giving him cause he tensed and moved a little so his body wasn't touching hers at all; He knew that, even though the redhead was such a great guy, when it came to her, he sure as hell would beat someone up just because that person looked the wrong way (Midoriya has seen it many times). Y/n didn't think much of it as she greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and kept doing some reports that Recovery girl has left for her. After she was done, they left so Izuku could rest, but not before she gave him a quick hug and said their goodbyes. Kirishima was rather quiet all the way to her doorm, and once they arrived, he said 'You are really close with Midoriya, ah?' 'Yes, he's a really nice guy! He comes almost every day so he's my favorite patient by now' His face turned into a frown to that and respond 'Is that so?' He hadn't stopped looking intensibly at her, and it was making the e/c girl nervous. <Why does he sound like he's jealous?> The girl was wondering when suddenly, he grabbed her forearm gently so her body was now facing him. His eyes were no longer on her but the floor, and he whispered 'I don't like you being that friendly with him. I'm supposed to be the one who receives your hugs and the one you tend their wounds of!' He paused for a few seconds and finally looked at her as he continued 'I don't like sharing your attention or you affection. I know it's selfish but lately, when I see you with others, it hurts and it annoys me...I feel kind of left out and I don't like it one bit' Someone would of assumed this 'sensations' Kirishima was having were of pure jealousy or envy because of the threaten of her finding someone else and that this might have been his confession but no. He's convinced himself, and her, that it was his mission as a 'big bro' that he needed to be sure the guy she settled for was a nice one. That night, both of them went to sleep with a huge weight of their hearts. Y/n because she realized that nothing has changed and that she'd always be his friend no matter how cute she dressed or how mature she acted, she'd never be his first option. As for him... He felt his chest tighten at the thought of her being with some other dude.

The next few days, he did everything in his power to not let Midoriya or any other of his friends near y/n, but he couldn't control everyone for too long, could he? It wasn't long enough until UA most handsome guy, had to pay a visit to the nursery and even took the chance to invite her to endeavors agency to work with them. She was very excited to tell him about what happened and that she accepted their offer, but Kirishima had to pretend that he was happy when he actually was feeling sad)?

Since then, mister cute face has spent too much time with her and did everything together; from eating lunch to going on missions alone and then having dinner at his house (Midoriya and Bakugou were there too but still) The redhead was going crazy to say the least. However, he began to wonder if these emotions were similar to the ones a brother would have for his little sister or more like a boyfriend would have for his girl. The word 'jealousy' came along with those thoughts and so he understood why he got so annoyed and anxious whenever she was with someone else or how worried he got by just the idea of her having a boyfriend or even marrying someone; marrying someone who wasn't him. He was in love with her! All this time, he actually thought he was doing the right thing by being protecting her from praying eyes but he was just keeping her to himself instead. He realized how mistaken he had been and needed to make his intentions clear for her even if she rejected him. He just needed to find the right time

....

Part 2 in a few days 😉