#happy propose day wishes messages

[emily--prentiss]

I LOVE YOU, ALWAYS FOREVER

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

cw: mentions of pregnancy/childbirth, no use of Y/N, just pure fluff and love

a/n: I’ve caught the writing bug again! after so long not writing anything, I now can’t seem to stop. anyway, please enjoy this short fic of aaron just being absolutely smitten with his girls <3

word count: 1.2k

You hadn’t thought it was possible to love him more.

From the moment he’d first asked you on a date - uncharacteristically timid, stumbling over his words, so unlike the fearless leader you’d come to idolise and respect since joining the team all those years ago - he’d treated you as if you’d hung the stars in the sky yourself.

He wasn’t overly affectionate in public, but you didn’t mind. You were well aware that he had an image to uphold. When you were alone, however, he showered you with affection. It was overwhelming at first, and you’d felt undeserving, not used to being in a relationship with someone that adored you, that loved you completely, that respected you all the more. But as time wore on, you’d become accustomed to these little romantic gestures that, even now, had your cheeks tinting a light pink, butterflies forming in your stomach, and a smile that you tried (and failed) to suppress tugging at your lips.

On the nights where you were apart, back when you were still living in your own apartment, he formed small, affectionate habits. He’d send a text to check you were home safe, following a date or a long day at the office. He’d have flowers delivered regularly, bright bouquets waiting on your doorstep when you returned home from a gruelling case, always accompanied by the sweetest, handwritten note (you had a shoebox full of them tucked away in your closet, a physical reminder of his love for you). He’d call you as you settled into bed, his voice gentle over the phone as he was wished you sweet dreams, told you how much he missed you, how he couldn’t wait to see you again.

When you moved in with him, just a few short months before he proposed, his gestures changed in tandem with your relationship. If he had to be at the office early, you’d wake to a note left atop his pillow, hastily written messages of love and adoration ensuring a beautiful start to your day. After a particularly difficult case, he’d usher you into the bathroom the moment you got home. He’d run you a bath, help you ease into the water, and disappear into the kitchen to cook you one of your favourite meals while you allowed the hot water and bubbles to melt away your troubles.

On your wedding day, he’d allowed himself to be less reserved. The moment he saw you, as you began your descent down the aisle, he was consumed by emotions, his beautiful eyes shining with unshed tears. He’d leaned into you as you took his hand, matching smiles on your faces, and whispered sweet nothings into your ear, telling you just how beautiful he thought you’d looked. He seemed unable to resist touching you after that initial contact. At any given moment, his hand was pressed to the small of your back, or his fingers were intertwined with your own, or his lips were pressing tender kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips. Though he kept reminding you of his love for you throughout the day, whispering it into your skin, you could feel it through those small gestures, too.

He held you close to him as you danced together for the first time as man and wife. His eyes were on you the entire time as the pair of you moved effortlessly around the dance floor, surrounded by your loved ones, his ever present smile unwavering. During his speech, you’d cried tears of happiness, so overwhelmed by the life he’d given you, the joy he made you feel every day.

He loved you wholly, and you didn’t think you could love him more.

That was, until the first time you saw him hold your daughter.

It had been gruelling, the birth. Long. Tiring. Aaron had been by your side constantly. He held your hand, wiped the sweat from your brow, and told you over and over how proud he was of you.

And the smile that had consumed him, all teeth and dimples as your daughter had come kicking and screaming into the world, left you breathless.

He was smitten from the moment he laid eyes on her. Had waited for your subtle nod of assent before he left your side to be with her while the nurses weighed her and cleaned her up, unable to take his eyes off of her for a moment. When she was placed in your arms for the first time, he’d wrapped his arms around the two of you as a choked noise left you, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. And although you weren’t alone in the room, midwife and nurses alike still floating around, it felt as though the world had shrunk to just the three of you - husband, wife, child.

He whispered against your cheek how perfect, how beautiful she was. Just like her mother. You’d scoffed then, partly because you’d always been unable to accept a compliment, mostly because you were certain you were anything but beautiful in that moment. Your hair most definitely resembled a birds nest, your lips were chapped and dry, and the sweat had dried uncomfortable onto your skin. But as you’d looked up at him and found his gaze settled on you for the briefest of moments before he’d leant forward to press a gentle, loving kiss to your lips, you thought perhaps he’d truly meant it.

Aaron didn’t hold the baby - Ivy, you’d settled on fairly quickly - until the three of you were finally alone. Though he’d refused to stray far, he knew how important those initial moments of bonding were between you and your tiny speck of a baby, so had refrained for as long as possible. But after a while, you’d looked over at where he stood towered over your bed, eyes roving over the baby as if trying to memorise every tiny detail of her little body. When you’d finally caught his eye, you’d tilted your head in a silent invitation that he join the two of you on the bed, a small laugh bubbling out of you at how quickly he shuffled in beside you. The baby was transferred into his awaiting arms, and as you curled yourself into his side as best as you could, you felt your breath catch in your throat at the sight of them.

Ivy, who was already a little small for her age, appeared even more so as she nestled into her father’s chest. The palm of one of his hands encompassed her back, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against her through the blanket she was wrapped up in. The baby had grizzled as she’d been moved from her mother’s arms to her father’s. But as Aaron whispered into her ear how much he already loved her - something he’d done to you countless times over the years - she settled, as if she knew she was safe. Protected by the first man to ever love her.

And as the three of you rested in comfortable silence, you felt it again.

That love for him, a love that already felt all encompassing, growing even more.

[pastryfication]

Can you please, if you'd be so kind, do one with Oscar x driver!reader, and him proposing on media day, when they're talking in front of people? And Lando has to hype him up before. 🤭

hi!! thank you for your request!!

i can’t imagine oscar proposing in front of so many people—i think he’d be more the type to do a private, intimate proposal—so i’ve changed the request a bit. i hope you still like it!

just say yes | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x driver!reader

content warnings: mentions of hungary 2024… also, this is messy! i’m not even sure myself what is going on.

the race hadn’t worked in your favour. starting p8 and moving down to p11 wasn’t good enough. just out of the points, in a race with so much potential, wasn’t good enough.

in the final lap, you wanted nothing more than to exit the car, throw away your helmet and hide yourself away in the hotel. but then, your race engineer turned on the radio and delivered the message you had waited to hear for so, so, so long. oscar had won the race. oscar passed the finish line in first place.

now, after such news, your eagerness to finish the race wasn’t build on the need to sulk, but instead, an eagerness to celebrate your boyfriend.

as soon as you were out of the car, you were running towards were you knew he would be. the smell of burnt tires and gasoline faded to the background and you threw yourself against him, race suite and helmet still on, and enveloped him in a hug.

you were so happy you wanted to cry. he deserves this more than anyone else and to see him achieve it was a dream come true for you. as he decented the podium, you were in the crowd and clapped louder than anyone else.

oscar had found your face in the crowd as he stood on the top step. he smiled brightly when your eyes met, and when lando initially ignored him and he felt the world slowly crashing down on his happiness, your silhouette was what he sought again.

you were there. you were always there. even when you had a shitty race yourself, even when he could see how sad you were about the position you ended up in, you still came to celebrate him. and you poured your entire heart into the celebration, pushing yourself into the crowd of papaya to be closer to his beaming face.

too caught up the the giddiness you felt, you truly hadn’t noticed anything wrong until oscar pulled you aside just before your media duties. he wasn’t smiling quite as bright as he was supposed to, considering he just had his maiden win. he explained, voice a bit strained, that he had been allowed to pass lando. he told you how the win didn’t feel completely like his own, like he didn’t quite deserve it, and you listened with a frown on your face.

this was his win. he deserved it. he earned it fair and square. and you told him exactly that. you told him while holding him close in another hug, your mouth up close to his ear so only he could hear the sweet words you whispered.

as you leaned your head on his shoulder and comfortingly rubbed his back, oscar mind began to cloud with thoughts of the ring in his trouser pocket. barely a hundred meters away, tucked safely away in his jeans in his drivers room, lay the diamond ring he so delicately had picked out with your sister.

he wanted it then, he wished so desperately to have magical powers so he could make it spawn in his hand, but he didn’t, so instead, he took your hand in his and dragged you along.

“where are we going?” you asked, but it was for deaf ears. he had a mission and he was going to accomplish it. he was going to propose right then and there. he was going to spend the rest of his life with you.

୨୧

the reporter had to fight hard to hide the smirk when he spotted the diamond on your finger. it stood in stark contrast to the dull race suit hanging from your waist, sparkling prettily against the sweaty fireproof shirt clinging desperately to your damp skin, compliment the op1 cap on your head perfectly.

“what is it i spot on your finger?” he asked, microphone pushed up against you eagerly in await of your response.

“well, what does it look like?” you answered, showing it to him with a joyful smile adorning your face.

“i guess your boyfriend wasn’t satisfied with just a win.” the reporter laughed.

“fiancé.” you corrected. “and my fiancé is quite satisfied with his amazing win. but you can never get too many things to celebrate.”

[crystallilytarot]

Choose a coffee cup. How will your future partner show their love and jealousy

(there's a little mention of some 18+ stuff. MDNI)

Pile 1

It's like a puppy who is happy when their owner is home hehe. They are so happy when looking at you. Heart eyes, literally. They want to make your every wish come true. A genie. A little bit of a Daddy /Mommy vibe, but you will be spoiled, they want to buy you everything. Even if they act like they are grumpy and doesn't want to do something, they can't say no to you. Jewelry, a lot. Definitely gift giving is one of their love language. Trips, little vacations, a weekend get-away. And they are very patient, understanding, caring too. I heard a gentle giant. Even if they aren't so much bigger or stronger physically, but I think they are older. And a bear, but like a real life teddy bear. Altough they may look like a serious person, they are a softie at heart, at least for you, definitely. And if you have any mental or physical problems, ever, they will be so caring, protective and understanding.

If they are jealous. At first they will act like they aren't jealous. But they will be very insecure. Anxious even. I feel there will be even more gifts. Like they say in this way, that nobody else can take care of you like me. I can give you everything, don't look at others! They definitely want to have sex with you that day. Want to show you that they can take care of you in the bedroom too. A little possessiveness, nothing toxic. But if you want children, they would like to well, give it a try that night. A little like a marking kink, but it's not always like that. It can be when they give you the ring, when proposing, they see it like you belong together. They want to have you just for themself. But it's their secret kinda, they try to act like they aren't that possessive, they just can't even think about you being with someone else, it would hurt them so much.

Pile 2

A no nonsense person, they are not a player. If they like you, they will show you. I don't think they are very comfortable with speaking about all these romantic feelings, but they will show you with their actions. They are always there when you need them. If you need something, they will drive all night to you. If they are in the other side of the world, they will try to go to you as soon as possible. Maybe not a lot of speaking but a lot of messages. Good morning texts. A little sweet message. They are very giving. With their money too, and with their time, energy. Always going out of their way to help you in any way possible. You can share the responsibilities, the stress, the burdens with them. You have a partner, you don't need to do anything alone. You will feel like you belong with them. Definitely want to marry you, and I think your values will be the same too.

If they are jealous. Well, they are not really jealous. Very mature, they trust you, so it's rare that they are jealous. If they feel like something is wrong, they will try to speak about it with you or try to find a solution. Maybe try to solve it alone. Sometimes you won't even know. But they thought that you liked a shirt on someone else, they will buy something similar. Actions, so they don't show it really, they can act a little differently. If someone is bothering you, however they will talk with them. Can say a little harsher things to them too. But it's rare. I feel in this situation, they are so authorative, maybe they have a strict voice, so nobody will mess with you. I mean, you can go out with your friends, they won't be a very controlling person, but if someone don't leave you alone, well, I won't be that person.

Pile 3

You will feel safe and sound with them. Calm, and peaceful life. If you had a trauma, any bad experience, they will help you heal. You will be more confident. I think you will even have more energy, vitality. They are romantic, there will be a lot of romantic surprises, love notes, love songs. Lot of emotions here and they are not shy to tell you how much you means to them. They will compliment you a lot. Likes to go on romantic programs with you. I love you-s, cute nicknames. Tell you like every day that you are the most beautiful person in the whole universe.

If they are jealous. Oh, no. They will feel so sad, heartbroken. Don't make them jealous intentionally, because it's not something that brings spark in the relationship for them. They will feel betrayed. Even if you didn't do anything, they don't know what to do. Probably need some time alone. In the end of the day, they will realize that they can trust you, but they need to be alone a little with their thoughts, because it will bother them a lot. At first they can be grumpy, and they don't even know why. Until they think about it a little and realize that something made them jealous. Maybe they would feel bad about it, even if they weren't really mad, but probably after that, they will try to do something romantic. At least a bouquet of flower definitely.

[mixtape-racha]

boyfriend!chan thoughts

chan would be the best bf so yeah | sfw and nsfw under the cut

warnings: mention of having a period and taking medication, mentions of getting engaged/married, moving in together, mirror sex, shower sex, public sex, hickies and marking, voyeurism, home videos, pegging, somnophilia // minors dni, 18+

sfw

boyfriend!chan who learns all the names of your stuffed animals because you have specific ones for specific circumstances (if you're sick, tired, stressed, etc.)

boyfriend!chan who tells you he's going to marry you one day at Least three times a week - and the thing is he truly means it!! he's just waiting for the right time to really propose

boyfriend!chan who wears a necklace with your name/initials on it so everyone knows he's entirely, wholeheartedly and 100% yours in every way, shape and form

boyfriend!chan who has reminders on his phone for any medication you take and when your period is due - just in case you forget to take them or forget to track it. he even messages you to remind you when he's away on tour

boyfriend!chan who gets a tattoo of a heart that you've drawn on his chest, right above where his heart is, because to him you ARE his heart and he wants part of your close at all times

boyfriend!chan who wished you happy national girlfriend's day before you were even together because he knew he wanted you to be his girlfriend from the moment he met you

boyfriend!chan who proposes to you when you're in his hotel bed in a foreign country - because to him, the fact that you'd even consider flying out to see him on tour just because he missed you is the biggest green flag he's ever seen

boyfriend!chan who makes a joint pinterest account with you to make inspiration boards for your dream house, and tries him damn hardest to make all those dreams come true when you finally move in together

boyfriend!chan who sweeps you off of your feet and carries you to bed even if you only seem slightly tired or unwell or achy. like, literally carries you bridal style from the front door and tucks you into bed, refusing to let you move and literally carrying you tho the toilet and back if you need it

boyfriend!chan who can't keep a secret from you At All !! like even if he tries to tell a white lie, or tries to hide a surprise date or anniversary or birthday present, it just doesn't work - crazy how a guy is so in love that he literally cannot tell a lie

nsfw

boyfriend!chan who loves fucking you in front of a mirror so he can make you watch how you fall apart on his cock - drool, makeup and tears everywhere

boyfriend!chan who is capital o Obsessed with shower/bath sex !!! in the mornings while you're getting ready, late at night when you need a break from the test of the guys, when you take a bath together to relax - he just loves it

boyfriend!chan who marks you up so often you've never Not had hickies since you got together. he loves seeing the traces of your late night activities on your neck and chest, and knowing that you trust him enough to make you completely his is such a turn-on

boyfriend!chan who drags you into a club bathroom so he can flip up your tiny skirt and pull your thong to the side so he can pump you full of his cum - don't worry about being quiet, baby, no one's gonna hear over the music anyway

boyfriend!chan who has a video camera hidden in his wardrobe purely for making home videos with you - and by god, there's a lot of them over the years. all the tapes are kept in a shoe box under the bed too

boyfriend!chan who doesn't stop pounding into you when one of the boys accidentally walks into the room. in fact, it gets him going even more and he nearly busts a nut when he sees hyunjin's flustered face and hears your moans get more choked up and high-pitched

boyfriend!chan who adores it when you cuff him to the bed and put a blindfold on him before riding him. it sends all his other sense into overdrive and overwhelms him in the best way possible - especially when he hears the wet slaps of your pussy leaking all over him

boyfriend!chan who gets so high on the adrenaline of performing that he physically can't contain himself from picking you up onto the nearest surface and eating you out the second he comes off stage... and mayb he goes back on for the encore with your juices all over his face, his dick straining in his pants

boyfriend!chan who got caught fucking himself with a dildo when you came home one day, and know his favourite form of stress relief is having you peg him, an god he looks so pretty with his back arched for you

boyfriend!chan who ruts against you in his sleep, little whines and whimpers spilling from his lips and reminding you just how much of a cute puppy he really is, and if you stick a hand under his boxers to help him out, who has to know?

taglist: join taglists here @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @taeriffic @mits-vi @chanssmiles @5kayzee @queen-klarissa @fawnpeaks @bangtanmix73 @savluvsmingi @boi-bi-ahaha @torixx80 @skz-streamer

[cherryredstars]

would you write married life hcs with simon i need some domestic fluff paired with angst please🥺😢

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Angst 

Summary: Married life with Simon. 

Word Count: 745 (Not Edited)

The ring he proposes with is gorgeous. It fits your finger perfectly, not catching on your skin once. It’s fashioned from his mother’s ring. His mother’s ring was also the ring Tommy had used to propose to his own wife. You carry the memory of four lost Rileys with you, and it is a weight you are proud to hold. Simon cannot think of a better person to share the weight with. 

He spoils you rotten. Wants the best for his spouse and wants nothing less. He gives you random gifts. Brings you back souvenirs from his deployments. Takes you to your favorite restaurants. Stocks the kitchen with your favorite foods. Gives you access to all his bank accounts. He makes too much money from his high position and his long years of serving, the money might as well be spent on someone he loves. Someone who deserves the world. 

He truly believes that you’re an angel. Someone sent him to hold him together. Every second he spends at home is with you. Follows you around like a lovesick puppy. He’ll stand with you in the kitchen as he cooks. He’ll sit on the edge of the bathtub or on the toilet seat as you do your skincare or get ready for the day. Lays on the couch or on the bed doing his own thing. As long as he’s in the same room as you, he’s content. 

He wants to share your happiness. Wants to absorb everything good about you and have it stained into his soul. He feels that as long as you are in his hold, he can keep that sacred part of you safe. He worries whenever he hears a thump in the house, rushing into the room to find you hopping because you dropped something on your foot. It warms his heart, to have something so normal and domestic. He doesn’t know how he ever survived without you. 

He has never taken his ring off. Not once. Not since you had placed it on his finger. He doesn’t take it off when he’s cooking. Doesn't care that the shampoo from his shower is making it soapy. Doesn’t mind that there is a slight bulge in his glove from where the ring still sits on his finger despite being against code. You’d have to kill him to pry that finger off his ring. But even in death, you’ll have to fight him for it. 

Plans dates for the two of you. He wants you to know how much he truly cares for you. How grateful he is to announce to the world that he has a spouse waiting for him at home. Will never get tired of the privilege to have that. With all his time away from home, he wants to be able to spend that intimate, one-on-one time with you. Sometimes you wished he just stopped.

Marrying Simon means empty promises that he tries to apologize for by throwing money at it. It means excitedly texting him something and being disappointed when he replies two weeks later with a thumbs up emoji reaction. It means being suffocated when he’s here, and then drowning when he’s gone. It means being drained of everything within you because you keep giving it to a man who is never there. It means waiting in a restaurant in your best outfit for hours and going home with tears in your eyes and a message the next morning saying, Sorry, have to wrap some things up before returning home. See you in a few days. 

Having Simon as a husband is like being a widow. It is spending nights in a cold bed alone, in a large house devoid of life. It is yearning every day for something and clinging on to the love you have. It is full of being bitter and understanding and tired of an endless cycle. 

Being Simon’s spouse is full of debating and fighting with yourself. It is spending every day that he is away staring at the folder of divorce papers in your bedside drawer. It is wonder how you could ever think of divorcing him every day he is home. It is thinking that the Riley ring is a curse because everyday you feel like you are dying from its weight. 

Wearing Simon’s ring makes you feel like you’ll just be a memory of another Riley he has lost. Another Riley he has sacrificed for his job.

Join Cherry’s Discord Server

[explicitred]

In streamer au male reader was self aware and teases some of the characters like when he doesn't come home they'll receive a message from him saying "better luck next time "insert reader emote""and maybe can come out of the game and many chaotic things

Genshin Impact Streamer AU (Self-Aware Reader)

letss gooo?? omg what a hot new character!!! woahh... and they're reading these words...???

You slyly smiled as you dodged those pesky pink and blue wishes. They looked more like meteorites the more you practically danced above the clouds, the little wishes becoming faster and... more desperate? ...Hah. They must be the one spawning these things, hm? How cute. Perhaps it'd be fun to tease them a bit. After all, now I know how needy you are for me <3 (im sorry)

"Better luck next time~!" They literally slam their desk, dramatically crying as they lose their pity to someone else. NOOO- PLEASE! THEY SKIPPED SO MANY OTHER CHARACTERS WAITING FOR YOU!! (And so many sacrificial rituals-) They just need to get you so they can stare at you for hours in the game! Their chat spams them with crying emojis and encouraging words, while others laugh at their misery, finding them amusing. Wait, wait wait. You winked? You spoke? ...Wait, was that a new feature? OH GOD THAT'S SO HOT- TEASE THEM MORE- Kaeya, Childe (only skipped other characters to stay loyal to you. he's a good wife! and only reason he's crying is because you keep purposely dodging his wishes even after he was guaranteed getting you! mans has enough money to keep at it anyway), Kaveh (prolly starved to get you lmfao. HE ATE CAT FOOD), Lyney, Venti, Heizou

Just stares at you as you tease them, saying to them "Better luck next time~!" Theories are going through their head... The math is mathing... The brain is braining... Hmm... 🤔 Albedo, Alhaitham, Heizou

Takes a billion screenshots of the textbox, repeating to themselves again and again "better luck next time" with a happy smile, taking this as you noticing them. They think nothing of this "new feature", thinking that Genshin just slid this in without telling anyone. I guess they're too happy to be properly teased...? Ayaka, Childe, Thoma

Not surprised but still crying their hearts out. RIP the sacrifice of their wallets. Mona, Bennett (platonic).

Now, when you literally get out of the screen...?

Oh, my! Who's this fine person? Wait, it's you? Sheesh, you look better up close! WAIT WHAT- (internally freaking out but very blushy blushy) Childe, Xiao, Diluc, Wanderer, Lyney, everyone.

Just straight up gets on one of their knees. They've had dreams about this moment. They've written fanfics about this moment. And who cares if this is an hallucination or dream? They're going to make the damn most of it! Taking out their carefully crafted and customized wedding ring, that they bought just for this fantasy, they propose to you. "Will you... marry me?!" Albedo, Yae (She's written and published actual fanfics of you), Childe, Itto

They pass out. That's it. I guess you're just that hot, huh? You might have to help them~ Ayaka, Itto, Kaveh

Literally so embarrassed. They're just in their pajamas, slightly messy hair and all. Regardless or not this is a dream, they have to look good for you 24/7! Ayaka, Cyno, Neuvillette, Xiao

You look around, seeing their room filled with merch of you. Blankets with your face on them, towels with your face on them, posters, figurines, shrines, etc. And... And... IS THAT A POSTER OF JUST YOUR ABS-!? And a f*cking CAT named after you!? Oh god. Get me out of here. some people...

A few days later...

They've adorned you with the softest, coziest pajamas! They're now currently trying to convince you to sleep with them in their bed. Maybe sneak in a few cuddles or two... "Let me love you and show you how special you are <3" Childe, Ayato, Alhaitham, Albedo, Diluc, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Kazuha, etc...

Not afraid to show you to other people, even though they have a literal fictional character with them. "Hey! Here's my hot lover!" "Wha-? ...I might have to steal them from you. Ahem! Oh, do they like cosplaying or something?" Alhaitham (knows he can get away with just saying that you cosplay a lot), Albedo ("oh? they just like cosplaying."), Childe ("don't care, lol. anyway, look at my hot spouse-"), Ayato ("cosplaying."), Heizou ("just say that you're cosplaying!")

Constantly trying to hide you. After all, they have a literal fictional character who came out a game! Who knows what people will do if they know of this?! Sucrose, Wanderer (he just doesn't want people to look at what's his), Diluc, Ayaka

Panicking and blushing hardcore every time they see you. Oh, goodness... Do you even know how perfect you look everyday?! How perfect you are each and every second?! They blush so much just from looking at you... How are they going to survive with you living with them from now on?! Everyone.

INDIVIDUAL STORIES: CHILDE, XIAO

AGGHHH! STOP DODGING THEIR WISHES!! THEY LITERALLY SPENT THEIR LIFE SAVINGS FOR YOU 😭😭😭

Wait- Life savings? Pfft, nah. That's just some spare change. Childe sighs, dramatically slumping in his chair as he loses the 50/50. The chat was currently going wild on him, making fun of him for getting the wrong character.

"LLLLL" "💀💀💀" "can't believe he lost 😭" "wait, why is everyone reacting as if he doesn't have over 9999 wishes?" "lmfao"

The ginger man pouts, whining cutely. "Chaaattt~! Stop making fun of me! I'll get them this time! It's guaranteed anyway!"

"...Huh?"

Childe blinks, seeing your splash art... move? ...Huh. That's weird. Did Genshin add this new feature? Usually, the splash art doesn't move when on the initial summoning screen.

"Huh??? Is this a new feature?" "Damn, you really are Genshin's golden child..." "omfggg step on me this new chara so hot" "love this new character, i'll be yo baby mama trust"

Childe huffs, seeing a text on his screen, a bit confused, but slightly amused nonetheless.

"Better luck next time~! <3"

"Hmph, just you wait, darl- comrade! I'll get you!"

Xiao's face reddens on stream, clicking onto the wishing screen, seeing your splash art. God, he wants you so badly. Too bad he's not guaranteed you since he won his last 50/50. He just hopes he'll win this one too. ...My, you're still as hot as ever! His chat seemed to agree.

"AHHHH WE'RE ACTUALLY DOING IT" "I WANT THEM TOO" "marry meeeeee new chara"

Well, here goes his primogems... Down the drain it goes!

Click.

Please, please, please- He loves you so badly-

He'll get on his knees for you! Just come home!

His breath hitches, seeing a golden star appear on his screen.

He's all entirely yours! Just please-!

After a few clicks, hurriedly rushing through the three-star weapons, Xiao's eyes land on Keqing.

Xiao frowns, returning back to the initial summoning screen after a couple more clicks, wistfully staring at your splash art. Great. He didn't have anymore primogems for you.

He suddenly chokes, jolting slightly in his chair as he sees you winking at him, mouthing the words "Better luck next time~! 😘" as a textbox appears with the same exact words.

Damn. Now even his love a fictional character was teasing him!

Bonus: (aka my drafts)

"Aggghh... I spent so much money!!" Childe huffed as he kept clicking the 10-pull button repeatedly, staring at his screen as if in a trance. "...Oh, right. I'm rich!" His chat exploded with comments such as:

"Bruh you FORGOT that you're rich??" "rich people problems" "dude lost the 50/50 LMFAO HELP" "MY GUY YOU HAVE A BILLION INTERTWINED FAINTS WHAT YOU ON ABOUT 💀💀💀"

Childe thought out loud, thinking to himself. "Oh, but maybe my darling will appreciate it if I do another ritual and sacrifice-"

"What, you're going to push another fictional cat off of Liyue's dock-?"

bonus bonus: (another scrapped draft!)

merch. merch. merch. Your face on a hoodie? Wallet out. A rip-off figurine version of you when you're doing the fisheye meme? Bank account out. Doesn't matter. If your face is on it, give. Their fans think that they're too obsessed with you, but they don't see your true beauty!! Literally browses and buys merch of you on stream. "Hey, chat, which item do you think looks better? I think this potted plant version of them looks nice, but maybe we should buy them as a smegsy raccoon-" Wha...? We don't have anymore money...? JUST SELL THE HOUSE-

me when my partner doesnt do his part and its worth 50 percent of our grade

[just-a-ghost00]

Winter is coming ❄️

What are the energies awaiting you for the upcoming winter? Which messages and advice does your spirit team wish to convey to you in preparation for this time of the year? To find out, select one of the following groups either based on the number or the picture.

Group 1 Deer

6 of wands, knight of swords, The Lovers, 4 of wands, ace of wands, 6 of cups

Oh dear 😉 group 1 it seems like this Winter season will be a lucky time of the year for you. You may be receiving communication that you were waiting for and that will make you extremely happy. This may be especially true if you were hoping for significant progress within a romantic connection. If that is your case, your person of interest may very well be willing to kiss your under the mistletoe this Christmas. Whether you were in separation or not, the flame will be rekindled and this connection may very well be taking a new turn. If you were mere acquaintances this could progress into a solid crush. If you were casually dating, this person may be asking you to be their lover. If you were in a relationship for a while, they may be proposing to you a form of commitment. I feel like this is something you had been fighting for for a while now, which will feel like a major victory for you. If we’re not talking about a person, this could be about a project that was very dear to you. Possibly something related to your childhood and your home. So for instance, and this may be very specific so take what resonates, if you were hoping to buy your childhood home to keep it in the family and pass it down to your children, you may be able to this Winter. You may also be invited by your parents to spend the Winter with them for those of you that are living away from your loved ones. Overall I pick up on various good news and a very good energy to be celebrating and spending good times with the ones you love. You are encouraged to remain optimistic and cherish the good vibes. Keep working toward your goals, don’t be afraid to express your love and needs around you and enjoy your Winter.

Group 2 Rabbit

Justice, 9 of swords, ace of swords, World, Wheel of fortune, 2 of wands

This Winter you will be gaining clarity about a situation that was troubling you. This could have been a work situation, something about your health, about your family, friends or partner. This could be anything. It could have involved legal procedures but this doesn’t have to be the case for everyone. I feel like though the first part of Winter may be challenging and tiring you will quickly gain momentum and get back on track. Major change is coming into your life. You may be travelling during Winter and making new plans for the future. I feel like for a lot of you this could be work related. Maybe you were jobless and desperate to find a new contract. If that is the case I see you getting a job away from your home. For some of you, you could have applied for a project or a school and were waiting to see if that worked out. You may receive an official reply that you have been accepted provided that you pass a test or an interview. Some of you may have to travel to deal with legal matters. Perhaps these legal issues do not involve you directly but a family member. These will only be temporary. You are asked to trust the process and keep your calm, make sure that you get the rest you need and keep in mind that better days are coming. You are strong enough to overcome this situation and you have what it takes to turn the wheel and create your luck.

Group 3 Sparrow

Tower, 4 of pentacles, 4 of wands, knight of swords, 2 of swords, Judgement

An unexpected event will lead you to having to re evaluate everything in your life. This is something that you will not see coming and it may be difficult for you to adapt in this situation. Your life will be completely turned upside down and this may feel like a bad thing at first because of the suddenness of this change. This may be related to your finances and/or your home. The event may take the shape of a letter or a mail that you didn’t expect. It could be a legal decision regarding your job, your home, a relationship of any kind. You may feel confused and at a loss of what to do. You may feel insecure and want to cling to your former state. Spirit is asking you to let go and let yourself be guided to whatever next stage follows this upheaval. There will be people and instances that you can rely on and you are encouraged to solicit those. Communication will be extremely important in this situation. Winter may be a very challenging time for you, a period of transition in all areas of your life. You may have to suddenly move out of your home, change your job, change your status from committed to celibate or vice versa, depending on your situation. You aren’t necessarily losing something per se. Rather I feel like you are gaining something but that something is uncertain for now and may vary depending on your case. It’s like your plans are being countered by the Universe’s prerogatives. Though this may be frightening you will later on understand why this was necessary.

[hoseoksluna]

BLACKBERRIES | jhs ft. jjk

pairing: boyfriend!hobi x berries!oc

genre: smut, angst

word count: 6.1k

summary: opening jungkook's message brought in a blessing and a curse.

pinterest board: blackberries / taglist: join

warnings: breeding kink, raw sex, hobi rubs your clit......., provider!hobi, talks of pregnancy, slight nipple play, oc cries, ruined sex and orgasm, swearing, spanking, talks of punishment, heavy daddy issues

note: i loved every minute of writing this part, so i'm happy to bring it to you, finally. it brought a lot of clarity and direction as i was writing mindlessly all this time. this series will have one or two more parts (probably two more) and then i'll finally be done writing about two members:D. i love you, guys, so much. let me know what you think. i miss you. i hope you like this as much as i do. <3

The morning has spilled in like a friend through the dusky pink curtains, casting a soft light over the place Hobi is focusing on as he’s buried in your femininity, balls-deep. Lingering there as if he was nesting at home. 

You haven’t slept a wink. Neither has he, restless by your sadness-induced insomnia, zapped with consistent life by the threat that lit up your phone when drowsiness asked for your hand, longing to take you to its kingdom. If you were to become a princess, the matter was snatched away from you—or rather tossed back and forth as you drifted in and out of that threshold. Hobi suggested to you to open the attachment sent in the message, rip the skeleton out of the closet and burn it in celebration of your wedding, so you could rest… but you couldn’t. You were fearful and you lacked courage, because you knew that if you were to make your eyes the witness of what regret has forced Jungkook to do, calmness wouldn’t have been the embrace you sought. 

That is, if regret was truly the wave of emotion that swam past those starlit irises of his. You don’t trust your memories anymore—they’ve become a chaos of mist that you get stuck in when you dare to wade in it. And it’s so peculiar that you have to do it willfully, instead of being wholly swallowed by them, instead of being so unfairly and awfully haunted by them that there’s nothing left for you to do but to relive the anguish over and over again. 

To Hobi’s suggestion, you proposed to wait until the morning comes and the new day’s strength and possibilities greet you. You don’t really know where you found this wisp of positivity in you, but you twiddled with it all night, acknowledging yourself with it. The full moon rose up high in the blackness of the sleeping heavens, no cloud covered its magnificent light shining wistfully over the way Hobi spooned you and it gave you the notion, the whim to be as bare as it was. He had marked you with its phase, foreshadowed this flourishment with its crescent likeness on the flesh of your thigh, so you figure it’s only right that you use it when it’s right in front of you—that you complete it, make it full. 

You are going to confront Jungkook. Take the other end of this blanket’s pained darkness and flip it to its other side. Let the moonlight have it as you watch, hands by your side. Let the rays sweep it clean of its thick dust until it resembles its very own face. End the relationship once and for all. 

That means talking to him in a way that doesn’t correspond to the emotional violence that occurred hours ago. That means killing it with kindness, not raising your voice, nor your fists. And you wish to do it alone—without Hobi’s presence. You’re aware that if he were there, it would be proper. And not only that, he would also step in if the situation asked for it, but something tells you that this time… it’s not going to be a fight. 

It’s going to be a calm conversation between two humans that used to be close. 

This notion had been whispered to you the moment the light of your phone died until the sun awakened. Its voice kept you uneasy and fidgety—partly because you don’t know to whom the voice belonged to, partly because you simply don’t trust yourself. Being mean and uncompromising with him served as a shield. You don’t know what’s going to happen once you’re in a room with him all defenseless, but you have to risk it. 

You’ve been feeling very intensely that it’s meant to happen. 

It’s what Hobi has been feeling as well, taking your jitteriness in his grasp and kissing it away. He had begun at the nape of your neck and your shoulder and you encouraged him by closing your hand over his and leading it beneath the duvet, thinking that perhaps if you head into this direction of his holy lust, you’d find answers, you’d find instructions, words you could use later to unravel to Jungkook. You regarded his unfolding responsibility over your emotions as so terribly fatherly—grounding and validating that it aroused you; it soaked your little pajama shorts that he had dressed you in and the low gasp that reached your ears when he discovered it with the guided movement of his fingers… it felt better than any hit of the blackberry vape he bought you. 

Hence why you hushed your disagreement when Hobi shifted, craving to taste you. You wanted the clasp of the connection between you and him fully shut by having him inside you, and so you reached behind yourself, grabbed that intimate part of him to stroke him, to get him fully erect, letting go of him only for a brief moment to drag your shorts and underwear down. You didn’t perceive his hesitancy until he took a hold of your hasty hand, shadowing it with his palm against your knuckles like he had done yesterday in his car. 

His breath trembled before he spoke. “You’re not prepared enough for me.” 

You didn’t find your words until he sank his fingers between yours, another grounding sensation washing over you as he guided your hand to the parts of his manhood that feel the most stimulating for him. The tip of his cock and down his balls, his kids that he had promised that were yours. The essence of it drenched you even more, without him knowing—the perfect picture, greater than any painting you ever saw, of him loosening himself inside of you, the hot spurts, his growls, deepened by the flaring passion, then the clicking of connection, and your belly, full and swollen, carrying a concoction of him and you that will live beyond your death. 

“I can take it like this,” were your truthful words, head turned halfway to him as your side position allowed it to. 

Hobi closed his mouth over your cheek in a slow, deep kiss that you’ve never experienced before. A rising tide of tears flooded your eyes and stayed there, not wanting to pour over. His care, his knowing better, his responsibility, all the principle of his fatherliness. It soothed your body, encouraged the picture in your mind to bloom with more vivid colors. 

It was illogical, plain stupid to think like this within a week of knowing him, but why did it feel so right? Why did it feel like a step that didn’t waver underneath your bare feet, like the soft sand under the stable, still weight of the sea, right as a small, murmuring wave laps at the shore. Why did it feel that way? How come these thoughts never burst forth whenever Jungkook held you down and did everything that made your body call him Daddy? 

Was it because sex with Hobi never felt like a playtime, but something way more serious? Something way more mature, ripened, that had that darkened, tangy flavor of blackberries. A flavor that lasted, didn’t dissipate after swallowing. Something that you’ve strongly begun to believe is able to run the course of your entire life; that has the enigma to break the curse. 

Your attachment to him developed, grew a small pair of wings that curled within his chest, shivering like a newborn child. Not screaming, not crying. Quiet, calm, serene. 

Your tears threatened to pour out, its former decision not to wearing out. Your emotions longed to submit, longed to rest—and you broke open the lock, longing to love yourself back. 

“Let me rub your little clit and get you ready for it, pup. It’s gonna hurt if I don’t and that’s not happening under my watch,” he murmured, dragging his fingernails up your arm, flattening the pads of his fingers on the way down your breast and ribs, rooting at the overspilling pooch of your stomach—the source of your river of tears. He left gooseflesh in his wake as your liquid, freed emotions trickled down your cheeks, one that he warmed by pressing your back flush against his chest, placing the side of your head on top of yours, lips puckered in an eternal, oscillating kiss—the makeshift, heart-shaped sunlight that shines through the surface of your river. 

Overwhelmed by it all, you could only nod. 

“I’m gonna make you feel so good. Gonna make you strong, you want that?” Hobi continued, hand sneaking down your mound, your feminine flesh until he reached your heat, collecting your nectar, then drifting back up to your clit, stopping there. You writhed, your bum pushing up against him, mewling your agreement. “Spread your legs for me.” 

You parted them and Hobi followed your movement with his palm, guiding you to hook one of your legs behind his, shifting you a little onto your back, giving him more space for the expansion of the eternity of his kisses. He fondled your cheek with his, acknowledging himself with your tears, forcing them to be his when he breathed them in, exhaling with a mournful sigh. 

You had never been mourned before. And the feeling was too great—too, too great. 

“Don’t cry, pup. I’m gonna make it right. Everything.” 

He didn’t wish to fix you; he was determined to fix your life. You began to sob, your fingers finding his temple, sinking into his silky hair. Hobi waited for the halt of your liquidity, thinking it’s sadness, but your emotions didn’t bear its face. They were clothed in thankfulness and wore the face of a bride of felicity, a woman who carried dejection in her arms for her entire life, only to have been gifted joy by a man who saw her, met her and listened to his heart when it asked for her. 

You placed his hand right back, where it belonged. Became aware how his fingertips were the perfect size for the swollenness of your clit, which led you to think it was created for him, for his fingers only; that no one else would ever touch it because there would be no one after him. It has become his until the end of time. 

“I’m not gonna touch you when you’re crying,” Hobi whispered and you shook your head, pressing his middle finger against that sensitive part of you. 

“I’m not sad, baby,” you said in the same hushed tone, which halted your tears. “I’m happy. Those are happy tears. Touch me, please.” 

He used the same hand to turn your chin for his lips to kiss yours, slow and passionate, making you cry out. He sighed against you, breaking the exchange of affection to look at you in the growing, muted light, irises flicking between yours, deep in thought. And when he licked his fingertips and rubbed your clit, you realized he did it in order to watch your reaction because those same irises fluttered back into his head. He hissed, baring his teeth, and you mewled little sounds that almost made him roll them back again. 

“Your clit is so swollen,” Hobi commented, love stretching over his eyes, and your walls clenched, tightly. You knew in that very instant that the love you saw got engraved along those fleshy walls of yours, never to regrow into its former state. 

“My body is asking for you,” you murmured, using the similar words that you did yesterday in his car, when you teased him. 

He moaned. “Oh, yeah?” 

It were your eyes that rolled back and you let him espy your perversely innocent obsession with those two words. Your torso lifted off of the mattress, hips twirling in the rhythm of his circles, your throat emitting the sweetest, most prolonged noises. And he swore, mouth parted. 

“You like when I say that?” 

You nodded, your orgasm quickening in tandem with his motions. The blush that appeared upon his cheeks casted the room in a rosy glow. Even the moon shone differently—more gently, the heavens dressing themselves in the dawn of his warm emotions. It added much to the coming of your climax, the same colors dipping inside, and you yearned for his lips. 

“Kiss me, please.” 

He kissed you with a delicate hunger, burying his nose into your cheek, breathing hard. His other hand had sneaked around your torso when you arched it and as he kissed you, he lifted the hem of your pajama shirt and brushed his palm over your nipples. Streaks of the pinks of his dawn blasted in your dark vision, sizzling once he grabbed both of your breasts in that same hand, and your body gained momentum in its writhing dance, your nubs stimulated. And when his tongue greeted yours, you came.

His fingers glided along your wetness as you fell down from your high, unable to kiss him back. Hobi watched you with enlarged pupils and with reddened, puffy lips, out of which trickled little, rough noises of pleasure. He was pleased to see what he saw, cordially mellow life spreading over you, changing you. You felt it and you were fearful of it abandoning you, clutching it with all your might on the inside and he helped you—sank his fingers inside your heat, stretching you out, desiring to see it blanketing you, perpetually. 

And then he was on top of you, driving his cock up and down your glinting femininity, panting, licking his lips, murmuring something about how he wanted to look at your face when he gave you what you wanted. He held himself steady in his fist, humming with each snap of his hips, his buff figure glistening in sweat. But all that your attention was painted with was the blessed picture of him getting you pregnant. It dizzied your senses, hormones rushing in, overpowering everything else. 

And you didn’t voice it out until he was mid-stroke. 

“I want you to breed me so bad.” 

Hobi growled, gutturally, stomach clenching—making his abdominal muscles more prominent than before. He fucked you hard, stopping after each rock of his hips, your body reverberating. 

“Be quiet or I won’t last.” 

Due to the hormones intoxicating your brain, his rejection saddened you and your mouth rounded in a pout, hands clasping his muscled arms, your manicured fingernails scratching down the skin. Hobi only cooed at your reaction, leaning his weight on one arm, his hand petting your cheek, thumb tracing the half-moon of your mouth, failing to precisely follow the line, quivering as he continued to ram into you. 

He grinned once your expression broke and melted into an angelically lustful one. He gave you the entirety of him, his mound kissing yours, again and again. 

You caught your breath, got used to the overbearing sensation of him rapidly prodding your guts. “Give me your kids, please, please.” 

And your plea didn’t have an ending until he decided. 

“If you say please one more time, I’ll stop.” 

And you did. 

He pulled out, brows shadowing his deepening blush, and he pinned your hands behind your head, leaning his weight on them. His bedewed cock twinkled on the pooch of your tummy and you closed your thighs over it as much as your position allowed you, your legs hanging over his shoulders. 

“Eyes on me,” Hobi commanded and you lifted your gaze, boring it into his. “You make me wanna do bad fucking things to you,” he continued, groaning when you squeezed the muscles of your thighs, affected by his words—your heart quickened, drunk by the dark side of his desire. “Punish you. Ruin you. But I can’t. I can’t when you’re such an angel, when you’re so bite-sized. You deserve nothing but love and gentleness, so don’t fucking tempt me and let me fuck you like you deserve.” 

Maddened by his words, you began to lift your hips, thighs clenched, feeling small, courageous and girlish. Hobi closed his eyes, moaning. Fucked your thighs until he couldn’t take it anymore, holding them steady, staring you down. Then, he pried them apart and made love to them with his mouth, rooting at your stomach, marking it just once—on the skin just beside your belly button. 

“I love your little tummy so much,” he whispered, biting it, biting into your insecurity and chewing it out, making you cry out in pleasure. Took your hands in his, rubbed your knuckles. “Are you gonna be a good pup now?” 

Your femininity drooled for him and you nodded, but he wanted you to use your words. 

“I’m gonna be a good pup now, Hoseok.” 

He swore, kissing you hard on the mouth. “I don’t know what makes me crazy first. Hearing you say your pet name or hearing you say my name. You’re so good. So good to me.”

It was melting, what occurred next. In the same, poetic way the night melted into the morning, Hobi melted into you. He began to fuck you, languidly. No rush, no hastiness. Eye contact, hand holding. Nose to nose. Time might have stopped between you and him, but it went on beyond the atmosphere of the love you felt surrounding it from within. It reminded you of the love that swam past his eyes, of the way it got engraved on the walls of your heat—and with every tranquil stroke, you sensed him etching it deeper. The poem you recited for him, the picture of your swollen belly, the curved lines of his endeared eyes. You’ve gotten lost in it, and so has he—in the cherub pendant of your necklace, sitting proudly on your chest. The rosy light as it longs to look, too, at his studying material. It’s what brings him into the present time, tender eyes flicking to the side, where the light is spilling from, realizing that the morning has come. 

He places his hand flat on your chest, fingers over the cherub. “You’re wearing yourself on your necklace. Little baby angel with pretty, pretty wings.” 

You pucker your mouth, asking for a kiss, heart warmed by the fact he’s mentioning something that’s so dear to you. He gives it to you, chaste and gentle, whimpering against you as he twitches inside your femininity. He begins to move, smoothly, at that same slow pace. Love—that must be the wordless expression of love. You tremble all over.

“What do my wings look like?” you ask, thumb stroking his knuckle as your hands remain intertwined with his. You tighten your hold, stealing some of his stability. 

Hobi doesn’t pause to think; his answer is ready on the tip of his tongue. “You’re golden, pup. From head to toe, but differently. You’re smothered in pink. Gold and pink.” 

His imaginary wings quiver, pink and black. You sigh, pleased, heart thumping. 

“The sun is up,” he says, kissing your neck once. “Are you strong and brave like that angel to open the message?” 

You widen your eyes, mouth parting and drying in shock. “Now?” 

He smiles, lazily, focusing his kisses on your cheek. “Yes, now, pup. So I can make you forget about what you saw right after.” 

A moan escapes you and you cling to him, wrapping your arms around his back. Hobi picks up the speed, whimpering in your ear, hands gripping your waist—grounding you, giving you the notion that nothing bad could ever happen to you when he holds you like this, when he makes those sounds for you and when he’s connected with you like this. You can taste his strength when he nestles himself inside you to the hilt all over again,. And you smack your mouth, loving the tangy flavor of it. 

What a perfect time to open the message. 

“Okay. I can do it.” 

Hobi coos. “That’s my pup.” 

You clench around him and he growls, kissing you, the sound traveling down to your heart, steeling it. Breaking the kiss, he reaches over for your phone and hands it to you. You position it so both of you can see the screen as you tap on the singular notification, your stomach rippling while your heart remains strong. And while it loads, you whisk your gaze to Hobi. 

He’s nibbling his bottom lip. 

Nervous. 

Ache seizes you and you’d say fuck it and fling your phone away, but you’re aware you need to do this. So you and Hobi can have the needed peace. It’s a step towards the confrontation that will follow soon. 

“Can you hold my hand?” you ask, mouth rounded in tender emotion and Hobi doesn’t hesitate to take your hand. Interlacing your fingers with his in his style, he keeps your hand pressed against his chest and you can feel the vibrations of his violent heart. 

Your ache grows. 

The picture has finished loading. 

A canvas is poised behind the sunless background of his floor length windows, illuminated by the faint lights that shone in his living room. You’d focus on the drying art, on its colors, on its vague message, but you know, instinctually, that the message isn’t there. 

It’s right there in the reflection of his window. 

Jungkook is standing there alone, barren down to his manliness. Covering the base of his semi-hard length with a hint of decency, the largeness of his hand only conceals the fine hairs on his mound while the rest is naked to the eye. The glint, perpetuated and divulging his arousal, on the mushroom head of his manhood. The broadness of his chest, the slenderness of his waist, the tattooed sleeve that leads to the part of him that used to bring you so much pleasure. 

Your body betrays you; you clench around Hobi. 

You can feel his gaze upon your face, but it’s not scorching hot. It’s anything but. 

“Who is this person to you?” he asks, calmly, and you swallow with difficulty. The time has come for the truth; you can sense that it’s right, that it’s meant to be, but still you hesitate, try hard to find the bit of strength you have in order to use it to speak. But you discover that it’s all been used up, so you remain silent. Hobi calls you by your name, pressing on the matter, tiny stars of trust flashing in his eyes. “I’m not a boy, you can talk to me. You can tell me who this person is to you without me getting mad, if that’s what you’re afraid of.” 

It’s not that you’re fearful of his reaction—you just wish this never happened in the first place. You don’t want to deal with this, you don’t want to bring Jungkook into your relationship any more than he already is. But it’s inevitable. You can’t pause it. You can’t delay it. 

You can only face it. 

“He’s my ex,” you whisper, not trusting your own voice, worried that it’ll break and your tears will make an appearance. 

“I thought so, but I wanted to hear it from you. Good.” He licks his lips, eyes descending to your cherub before they fix on your mouth, pecking you. Your chest shudders with emotions. “When did you break up?” 

Your chin quivers. Inevitable. “Almost a month ago.” 

Hobi nods, thinking as he rubs his knuckles on your cheek. “Do you still love him?” 

A tear rolls down your cheek while silence echoes within your mind, body and soul. “I don’t know.” 

He cradles your face with both hands. “You squeezed around me when you looked at him. Got wetter. It’s okay. It’s too soon. I found you too soon.” 

You sob, loudly, uglily. Hobi shushes you, kissing your tears away. Pulls out of you and shifts onto his back, bringing you with him, so you can lie on his chest. Cocoons you in his arms, nose buried in your hair that he pets, breathing steadily while his heart tremors. You cling to him with all your might. Break and break while he keeps the shards of you whole, the sharp edges cutting his skin open. And you’re sorry, terribly, terribly sorry. You sink it into his chest, into his neck—kissing him there with your tears, your sobs and your hands that roam everywhere they can reach in the snugness that little by little find a way to help you voice it out. 

“I’m so sorry, Hobi. I’m so sorry.” 

He rubs your back. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

You disagree. Loathe your body for the way it sang for another man. “But I did. You felt what my body did. I’m so sorry.”

He even grew soft and pulled out of you. A dread courses down your treacherous body at a thought that seizes you—that in most probability this is the last time he showers you in the kindness of attention, that this is the last sun you’ll ever see for the rest of your life. 

Hobi brushes your hair back and gazes down at you, splitting your thoughts in two. “Look at me.” Rays of the heart-shaped sun paint streaks of rose gold in his pearlescent eyes. There must be all sources of light—you’ve never seen such stark luminosity. It pulls you in, tightens your attachment to him, encourages your private desire to be with him, stay with him, live life with him. You drift your fingertips along the softness of his skin on his chest that you’re resting upon, hear its hushed calling for you, but you fear it’s all in your mind. “Your body reacted the way it was supposed to. You spent some time with this person, loved him at some point and it just ended. Your body is still used to him and as much as it pains me, I understand it.” 

The shards in you crumble, staining his skin in crimson. Your fingers begin to itch to claw that accustomedness away, so you can be all new and pure for him. They tremble against his shoulder and like a kitty cat, Hobi rubs his cheek on it, soothing its tremor, soothing its ruination tendencies, and you let him, willfully, gladly. You want him to paint you so anew that you’d have to get to know yourself all over again, that you’d have to wade through heavy, murky waters in order to remember, faintly, your past love. 

You lost all respect for Jungkook—and, vividly, you sense the final conclusion to the chapter of your life with him. 

“I want you, Hobi. No one else,” you whisper, your tears dried upon your cheeks, on his chest, too. 

He lifts your chin. Looks at you for a time that seems centuries-long. “You want me?” 

You nod in his hand. “I want to spend my life with you. Is it also too soon to think that?” 

He laughs, softly, lips curled in a gentle smile. He swipes his thumb under your eyes, over your eyelashes, and he kisses your forehead. “I’m sorry. I said it because I want you all to myself. I also told you I don’t share, remember?” 

Yesterday in his car, when he wasn’t willing to kill the engine and fuck you in your silky dress and thigh-high boots because he didn’t want other people around to hear your sounds of pleasure. His smile reaches your mouth, rightfully, at the memory. You deem it belongs there. Deem these memories should be the only ones living in your mind. Those to come, too. Not the image of Jungkook’s bareness and the unknown canvas you didn’t even glance at. 

Now that you’ve descended to a state of calmness, you think about the matter of ‘soon’, portrayed by his words. You repeat them in your mind—“Too soon. I found you too soon.”—and admiration for him slinks into your heart, growing there into a bush of raspberries that you can strangely taste in your mouth. Every chamber of your weakened heart is perfumed by it the longer that sentence rings in your system. You’re touched by it, by his softness, by his lack of anger that would only be appropriate in this situation. And it means a lot to you, because all that you’ve ever known from the few men in your life, besides indifference, is anger. Your father, your first boyfriend, Jungkook. All of those men showed you that you’re deserving of the scalding, poisonous sting of anger due to your actions. 

Hobi isn’t like that. He regrets the time. His emotions shoot out into the realm, where your footfalls never made an imprint. 

Your sweetened body yearns to give back to him, but you don’t know how to do it in a way that isn’t lustful. 

You lift your torso, propping your forearms on his chest, breasts squished against him. Your hair falls around you, vivifying the beginning bloom of your arousal, the raspberries. And you blow them, against his lips, coaxing an endeared hum out of him. Hobi opens his mouth to speak, but you outrun him, needing to get something out of your chest. 

“Thank you for not being angry with me,” you say and the sunlight rises furthermore, gracing you with a picturesque aura that tightens the thankfulness, laced with the need to pleasure him, within you. “You’re not sharing me with anyone, and you never will. I’m yours and I want your kids. But I’m sorry that you regret it’s too soon. I’m sorry I’m not prepared enough for you. You don’t deserve this.” 

Hobi shakes his head, pressing his lips in a firm line, dimples etched above. You regard them as so beautiful that you trace them with your fingertip. He envelops his arms around you tighter, grasping the nape of your neck, drawing you in to kiss you. And the raspberries burst as he moves his mouth against you, priming your yearning to give back to him. 

A string of saliva keeps you bound to him as he withdraws and it propels you to kiss him again. He lets you, briefly, whimpers when you slip your tongue inside, and he forcefully pulls you away. Needs to say something—his eyes are full of that thumping urgency. 

“I could never be angry at you for something that isn’t your fault,” he breathes out, chest lifting rapidly as he pants, the urgency growing in size and you sense that he really wants you to know this. “And these kids?” He thrusts his hips against you and yours and his smile widens in unison—he’s pressed right against your naked mound and stomach, and the movement caused his balls to softly tap the round, fleshy edges of your bum. “They’re yours as soon as this settles, you hear me?” 

You coo, cradling his face, eyes narrowing in taut, tender emotion. And something of the same urgency spills out of you in similar fashion. “All night I imagined carrying your child. But I’ll start taking my birth control again until—”

“You don’t have to,” he disagrees, seriousness coating his tone, and your mouth parts. “As soon as this settles, you’re having my child, if that’s what you want as well.” 

The words—isn’t it too soon?—almost drips out of your agape mouth, but then your desire stops you. If it weren’t the time for it, would your desire for it still harmonize with your heart? 

Seeing your hesitancy, Hobi continues. “I have a house. A stable job. Money in my bank account. In savings. I’ve wanted a child for a long time and it got to the point that I had to physically stop myself from wanting it. And then I met you—and you wouldn’t stop tempting me with it.” He chuckles and you’re struck with speechlessness, your heart, your lungs swollen with a mania of affection, elation and passion. Merely your hands are able to talk—and you squeeze his cheeks, squishing them, prolonging his sound of joy, planting a flush across them. “You’re the person I was waiting for, pup. And the waiting is over. I have no reason to wait anymore, do I?” 

You kiss him and onto his lips you say: “You don’t.” 

He hums, deeply. Glides his hands down your spine to your bum, kneading it, and it’s instinctual—the way your hips begin to grind against the squishiness of him. In response, his lips latch onto your neck as his hands begin to guide your movement into a kingdom of vigorousness. Delightful pleasure anoints your body in rosy relief, exultation and in a rhapsody of excitement to see, to meet the new, upcoming face of your life. 

Hobi, the curse breaker. The enigma is revealed and your organs flutter, scurry to write a hymn for him. 

It’s what he absolutely, befittingly deserves. 

And more. 

You crawl back down until you straddle his knees, keeping your hands flat on his stomach as you take the softness of him into your mouth. You fail due to how lightweight he is, coaxing a giggle out of you and a determination to try harder to gratify your yearning to give back to him, and Hobi moans, pets your hair, the reverberations of his sighs stimulating your intimate parts. 

You swallow a little bit of him, pausing at his tip, your cheeks hollowed out. He sinks his fingers into your hair, body trembling underneath you, and it feels exhilarating. A question that needs to be voiced out springs in you, spurred from the subtle saltiness of his precum that you devour. 

“So, are you my boyfriend now?” 

Hobi grins, petting you as if you were a puppy—waggling your head as you toy with the tip of his cock, using your tongue, feeling him harden, little by little. “I’m your husband.” Your stomach flips, cheeks redden and Hobi laughs, gently. Your arousal drips down, unabashedly, down your inner thigh. He grabs your jaw, his length plopping out of your mouth. Another trickle of arousal follows the one that stained your flesh. “But yeah, I’m your boyfriend. You wanna mark down this day, pup?” 

You nod, speechless again, your mind a sultry, misty pool of lewdness and the image of your pregnant belly laps past your eyes, drenching you. “The day you stuff me full of your cum… as a boyfriend.”

Hobi rolls his eyes back, sucking in a breath as your smile blossoms. He tugs you upwards until your pussy rests against his cock the way it did before, caging you in with one arm around your back while the other squeezes the fleshy part of your hip. 

“Grind your pussy on it, pup. Come on,” he orders and you listen, rolling your hips against his hardening manhood, your dripping essence making it an easy ride. Then, he kneads your ass cheek, descending to the back of your thigh and spanking it once, coaxing a high-pitched moan out of you that rapidly stiffens him. The sharp pain mingles with the pleasure rooting from your stimulated clit and you want more. 

You’d reach behind yourself and put him inside, if he hadn’t spanked your ass so hard that you cried out. 

“Fuck, Hobi.” 

Your eyes wet with pleasure-filled tears behind closed eyelids and when you open them, you catch the lopsided smile on Hobi’s face straightening into a narrow, firm line. Your heart quivers, the mist in your mind evaporates and you lift yourself onto your hands. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” you ask, panic evident in your voice, but it seems as though he can’t hear you—his eyes are lost, unblinking, his being having strayed away to a dark corner of his mind.

It isn’t until you shake his cheek that he flicks his eyes up to yours. Wretchedness dims out their light and it might as well rip out your heart, with its raspberry fragrance and all. 

“The painting,” Hobi says and you furrow your brows, not sure what he means. 

“What painting?” 

He sits up, leaning his back against the pillowed headrest, licking his lips.  “In the picture he sent you,” he explains, his voice dull and low; your lungs constrict. Cold sweat prickles your spine and you can’t breathe. What did Jungkook paint on that canvas? “You didn’t look at the painting?” 

You’re ashamed to admit that you didn’t, so, breaking the eye contact, you shake your head ‘no’, your features drooping. Hobi takes your hands in his, his thumbs in the middle of your palms, and the gesture helps you reconnect the exchange of gazes. Pity floods the indistinct light and your lungs burn.

“He painted you. Bent over… his lap I guess. Your butt was red and it had his handprint.”

The fire of your lungs spreads to the rest of your body and you don’t hesitate before you grab your phone and dial Jungkook’s number. 

Don’t hesitate to burn him with the same fire. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan,

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist | READ part one | READ part two | READ part three

[sandara-and-coco]

₊˚⊹⋆ Howdy there! It’s finally time for Sandrock's final release yay ₊˚⊹⋆

To celebrate this special occasion Sandara pulled off her jewelry making skills to prepare some unique rings for every sandrocker who wishes to propose to their soulmate ! So without further, here's a little story behind each design,

Qi - Sended an intriguing blueprint to Sandara with complex symbols and diagrams…He assured her that it meant something important to his soulmate so she craved the coded message in precious silver with care. Even if she didn’t get Qi special love language as usual she was sure his loved one would get it ;)

Owen - Our favorite bartender showed an intricate design to Sandara, a delicate pattern almost the same as his own parents' engagement ring. Like the gilding flowers on the cover of a fine book he wished to give his lover the beginning of the story they were about to write together in this life.

Fang - The swan holding a special meaning to him Fang requested Sandara to make his ring the shape of that gracious animal to seal his promise to love and cherish his dearest one forever.

Ernest - Came by with this big and expensive pearl that got a special meaning to him asking Sandara if she could add it to his ring. The pearl symbol of his loyalty and love was carefully placed on the gold ring, the initials of his name and his lover one engraved on the inside.

Pablo - He made a special request to Sandara in search of the most colorful metal they could find for his ring in which bismuth mineral was perfect! Showing how bright and full of all the colors of this world his love was for his chosen one.

Arvio - Insisting on getting the most fine materials Arvio asked for a special ring. He showed Sandara a rare sand flower from Baranarok symbolizing hope and renewal inspiring the shape of that jewel meant to bond him and his other half forever.

Miguel - Requested a rather simple but very elegant ring, made with pale gold with a single diamond to show the purity of his love for his chosen one.

Burgess - Asked for something extra special to convey all his will to live in happiness and kindness with his soulmate. The yellow diamond he chose shining in the center of his ring radiating like the sun all his love.

Pen - In secret Pen demanded the most powerful ring Sandara could make to give his special one great strength and power he’s all for. However he never delivered it himself…

Unsuur - While admiring his collection Unsuur couldn't choose which gem was more fitting so he brought them all to Sandara to make a special ring! (even adding a few shards Wilson lost to make the base of his special ring ;)

Justice - Wanted a pretty ring that still felt like him so Sandara took great care at bringing out Justice strong will and honesty toward his most precious one with this silver and copper ring.

Logan - The only one Sandara didn’t made because well Logan made it himself for his special one! On late hunt nights he sat by the fire and carefully carved this ring in bones with the will to give his loved one something he made with all his heart.

This isn’t much but I hope everyone will have much fun playing and living wonderful adventures with Sandrockers friendly as romantic ones ! As I used to study jewelry making it was very much fun to do and fitting hc that Sandara would make them for the town folks !

It’s been already one year that I have being in this fandom and so so grateful for everything it brought me and the wonderful people it allowed me to meet ♡

I’m currently working on the girl next and some custom ones for my fellow builders who helped me with the designs ◇

₊˚⊹⋆ Happy Sandrock day ! Wish you all the best and see you soon to continue this journey together ₊˚⊹⋆

[starboyshoyo]

Wedding Bells

Characters: Riddle, Deuce, Epel, Silver x fem!reader (seperately)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Genre: fluff, romance

Proposals and weddings with your beloved!

Riddle Rosehearts

Married life with Riddle comes in stages. It’s extremely difficult at times, especially in the beginning, and easier in others. You’d better be ready to take your vows seriously, because Riddle certainly will- even before you’re actually married. Especially the ‘for better or for worse’ part. He’ll outright refuse to hold a wedding until he can be financially and emotionally independent from his mother, refusing to subject you to her tyranny.

One way or another, Riddle will gain his freedom, either from gradually taking back control or from being disowned. Without the shadow of his mother hovering over him, he’ll decide to follow a path of higher education to law school. It’ll be a tough time period for you as a couple. Riddle is always busy studying and working hard, hoping to earn his degree early. He’ll attempt to help with house chores when you move in together, but he never learned practical home skills when he was younger. The combination of teaching him how to manage a household in addition to his school workload means that for a time, you will be doing most of the home duties.

The wedding discussion also has to be put on hold for a while. Your fiance is a perfectionist and refuses to hold anything but the perfect ceremony for you, with the most beautiful ring he can get his hands on. After graduating law school and landing a job, he’ll save up for the ring of your dreams.

He’ll propose after a romantic evening at home, under a full moon at midnight. Not everything went the way he thought it would- the ring was the wrong size (“What do you mean, fingers have sizes? I thought only shoes had that.”) and he burned the food at one point, but the two of you spent year waiting for this moment. Just seeing your eyes light up in disbelief and happiness when he finally gets down on one knee makes everything worth it.

Riddle will ask you to take the Rosehearts last name. He likes the idea of being joined, in life and in legal matters. Having his last name makes him feel like he’s truly your provider and protector. Plus, he’s just a hopeless romantic and wants to hear you being called Mrs. Rosehearts. He won’t complain if you don’t want to, though. Tradition is important to Riddle, but he respects your wishes much more.

The ceremony is small- held at an indoor venue in a courthouse, with just a few attendees. The Heartslabyul graduates will help set everything up, and catering is taken care of, courtesy of the Clover family. Riddle couldn’t be happier when he sees you walk down the aisle, escorted by Ace and Deuce. Deuce will give him a nod before stepping back, while Ace’s gaze will linger on Riddle’s a bit. The message is clear: take care of her, or else.

Deuce Spade

The moment Deuce realized he was in love with you was the moment he knew he wanted to marry you. You are Deuce’s first and only love, and the only person he’ll ever need. The two of you are engaged just after graduation- he proposed on the spot without being prepared. He just saw you running towards him in your cap, diploma in hand and gown fluttering in the wind behind you, and blurted out, Will you marry me?

This was not how he planned the proposal at all, and he apologizes profusely when he realized he didn’t even get down on one knee or give you a ring. In the last week or so of school, he’ll practically be living in NRC’s metal workshop, learning to bend and hammer out a ring for you. And with Crewel’s help and a bit of luck, he’ll even create a small gemstone himself, to add to the ring.

He’ll definitely marry you soon after the ring is done. Like Riddle, you and Deuce have a small, private ceremony. Crowley was generous enough to let you hold it on NRC’s campus, with Ramshackle as the venue. The run-down, homely dorm you stayed in during your high school days was also the place you spent the most time with your best friend, so it’s only fitting you’d marry him there too!

While Riddle, Cater, and Trey agree to be Deuce’s groomsmen, Ace actually requests to be a bridesman instead! He says it’s because “this is the last time he’ll ever get you to choose his side over Loosey Deucey.” He’ll definitely send pictures of your day out to Deuce, rubbing it in his face that Ace got to have a self-care day with you while Deuce didn’t. Deuce can’t be too mad, though. After all, it’s him you’re marrying, not Ace :)

Deuce would actually discuss name changes with you before the wedding. He actually likes the idea of taking your name. He would feel very close to you by being connected to you by name. But he also likes the idea of you being a Spade because it’s like he’s bringing you into the family!

You’ll most likely move in with your husband and his mother for a year before moving to a small house nearby. Ms. Spade absolutely loves you, and dotes on you when Deuce is out working for the day. She’ll try to help you with your own work as well, especially if you’re working remotely or working from home a lot.

When Deuce is home, he’ll spend as much time with you as possible. There’s a lot of sleepy cuddling and long naps in your shared room. Even if he’s busy, he’ll help you and his mother with chores. Grocery runs are his favorites, because it gives him time to go out on a pseudo-date with you.

When on the couch together, Deuce loves placing your hands side by side, looking at the rings on both of your hands and thinking about how lucky he is. He can’t believe that you’re with him now, forever.

Once you finally get your own place, Ace will try to ask for a key. Deuce will give him one, and then change the locks just to mess with him.

Epel Felmier

Epel didn’t even think about marrying you until the two of you moved back to Harveston. The townsfolk don’t have much news to talk about, so a lot of the gossip will be diverted to you and Epel. Every time you go out, expect to have at least three elderly residents asking when your wedding will be! Most of the time, you’ll laugh it off and assure them that you’re happy. But it’s happened so much that Epel begins thinking about it.

He brings it up to you one day in the orchard, lying in the grass with his legs propped up on a tree. This is the first time you’ve discussed marriage, and you come to an agreement- if your relationship in Harveston works out, in a year or two you’ll get married. It’s a simple plan, but people can’t help but notice Epel has a spring in his step now when he talks about his new fiancée.

With his degree in magical chemistry and background as a farmer in Harveston, Epel will always be financially stable. He is one of the few young people in the town and the older residents welcome the help with labor. With extra income from occasional jobs Vil will call in with, you guys are set! You have plenty of time to spend with Epel every day. It’s quite the pleasant life.

Your marriage to Epel will take place in the town hall. Every Harveston resident will attend, as well as many of your friends from your days at Night Raven College. The village elders insisted on doing everything themselves- making food, catering, helping with clothing and ceremony. It’s been decades since they were last able to prepare for a wedding party!

Originally, the gathering was planned to be relatively small, with just friends, family, and locals. But word got out that the Vil Schoenheit would be attending the event in place of the Bride’s father, and security had to be hired. Not only that, but the presence of nobles like Kalim, Leona, and Malleus garnered attention as well. Harveston’s economy got a big boost just from your wedding alone.

Much to Vil’s chagrin, you had hired Neige to be the live performance during your first dance with your new husband. He’ll complain about it for years, even if you reassure him that you would have asked him if he didn’t already have a part in the wedding party.

Epel is secretly smug that so many people are seeing you marry him. You’re his now! He’s yours! Take that, world! Everyone knows you’re Mrs. Felmier now. Speaking of that, Epel wants you to take his last name. He really wants you to be his in that way. He might pout a bit if you refuse but ultimately he accepts your decision. Either way, you’re his wife now! Nobody else’s!

Silver

Two matching silver bands on yours and Silver’s ring fingers are the only indicator to the outside world that you got married in secret, on a humid summer evening before your final year at NRC. Worried about Lilia getting on in years and not being able to see his son’s special day, Silver asked you to marry him in a quiet, extremely private ceremony. Only Lilia, Malleus, and Sebek were present but Silver tried so hard to make it romantic. He promises that once you’re older, you can do it again, properly.

The ring exchange was overseen by Malleus, who had power for every official duty in Briar Valley. For Silver’s own band, he requested the gem on his magical pen to be turned into the centerpiece for his wedding ring. That way, he’ll never be without you or his magic now.

As the only humans in Briar Valley, you and Silver still need protection. Silver would never leave his job as Malleus’s guard either, so you’ll be living in the Thorn Fairy’s Castle for now. As a wedding present, Malleus had a new wing of the castle built just for you and your new husband, complete with a tower. It’s spacious and supposed to provide more privacy for newlyweds, but Lilia has a bad habit of barging into the rooms anyways, gushing about how his little boy is all grown up. If you need a place for more private affairs, the cottage out back might be a better location.

When you return to NRC for your final year, the rings on yours and your husband’s hands aren’t hidden. No one seems to notice, though. Not even the observant ones like Azul and Jamil. If they do, they probably assume that the rings are promise rings. Silver doesn’t bother to correct them- he’s wary of telling people already, lest someone target you for it. Stolen kisses in empty corridors are good enough… for now.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[justcallme-ange]

Happy 1 Year Little Comforts!! <3

Give or take a couple days - oops ^^;

One of the longest projects I've done to date!! <3 <3 <3 Thank you all so much for the support, as well as all the comments and tags! I love going through them and reading all the lovely messages. They're a great pick-me-up whenever I'm feeling demotivated. So thank you again <3

So for the anniversary I wanted to do a little thing where I point out some details in the comic I'm very proud of XD (Yes I'm tooting my own horn - shhh)

Three Wishes Dream asks Techno to promise him something 3 times. And only on the third one does Techno agree. I tried to frame it as both Techno being cautious about agreeing to things Dream proposes (a la favor) but also as Techno finally agreeing when everything was laid out and there was nothing Dream had left to hide. (It's like a fairytale trial - 3 challenges with the last having a great reward.) Forget-me-(k)not I don't know how prevalent they are now a days, but growing up I was a really forgetful child, and learned somewhere that by tying a knot on your finger when you need to remember something supposedly helps in you actually remembering. Which idk if true, it didn't really work on me, but the knot itself actually stuck, so in this case I used it for 3 things: A reminder that Dream was stuck in prison and needed help, a reminder that Phil needed to get Techno out of prison (eventually), and a reminder that Techno promised Dream he would free him. Scars So all the scars that I drew Dream with all actually have canonical reasons. So in order - the one across his nose was from Techno during their duel, the ones on his neck and chest were from Tommy taking two canon lives, the one on his lips were from Sam after first being detained, and the last on his chin (and arms) are from Quackity. Continuity The armor that Phil is wearing at the end is a reference to another illustration I did of the Doomsday Trio. It's post prison break so maybe it's a sequel? (This is less a detail and more just a personal thing - but my favorite page has to be page 7 - where Dream's image crumbles. It usually takes me at least 2 tries to get the look I want - this was one and done ^^) More behind the scenes - this comic (final version) started with the hug. I said initially the comic was supposed to be 6 pages at most, but I wanted to make the hug work so bad that I literally rewrote the comic. Only the first two pages are part of the original draft. Everything else was new. My brother literally sat with me for days going over each scene and making edits. OTL There were so many iterations - in the end I think there are at least 7 drafts of this comic. Cut Content Bonus: Unlike my other comic where the vision was there from the beginning, Little Comforts had some growing pains, and a few scenes had to be cut for it to work. So here ya go!

This was cut in favor of the shaking scene, some levity was needed to let the scene breathe, plus quoting my brother "It's more Techno".

Also wanted another hug, but editor and I felt that it took away from the pay off in the end.

Alternate version of 'he's a child' - originally it was supposed to go at the end of the comic, as an epilogue. Timing wise it ended up not working, which ended up with an even better gut punch so I'm not too upset. I may still render this....

[schrodingerscougar]

Note: One last super short roommate!Simon part. Part 2 is here. I made a taglist but that's a one-time thing.

Tag: @v1x3n @gaylilangelbaby @syphixx @namelesshumanperson

..

“Go-karting?” you ask with a wide grin on your face when you step out of the elevator.

Simon shrugs when he looks down at you and pulls out his hands from his pockets to wrap an arm around your shoulder. “Thought you might like it seeing how competitive you can be.”

When he places an innocent kiss on your head, a move that isn't planned at all, you start to giggle. He loves this sound and he likes what you say even more. “I haven't driven a go-kart since I was a teenager. I don't even know why, I love it!” you tell him.

You said no to the idea of a fancy date when he asked you out so he had to force his brain to come up with something more than just watching a movie. Then he remembered one of Gaz’s stories that happened at a place like this, although that story was more of a joke these days.

He lets his hand drop from your shoulder to your waist as he begins to guide you inside. While he would prefer a traditional version, he decides to bring you to drive an electric go-kart. These things are fast, although he has no idea how you can handle one. To be honest, he has a feeling he would propose on the spot if you managed to beat him on the track.

One hour and several laps later the two of you are sitting next to each other by a table, eating something terribly forgettable while going through the photos on your phone. Simon isn't a fan of the idea of sharing pictures with his face on them, but he makes an exception because of you. The idea of sharing such a nice date with your friends makes you so happy that it makes him happy too.

“Can we go home now?” you ask him the moment you post the chosen photo.

He lets out a laugh then takes your hand. “I thought you liked to go out,” he notes.

You move a little closer, pressing your thigh to his with that wicked little smile on your lips that makes him go insane. “But I know you're not into it. And if I have to choose between staying out in public or being locked into the bedroom with you…Well,” you finish with a laugh before leaning over to kiss him.

For the first time in years, Simon feels comfortable in the company of a woman. He had fleeting relationships, one-night stands that meant nothing, but you are different in every way. He wants to be by your side all the time, he’s willing to step out of his comfort zone to make you happy, and damn it, he already knows he would tear anyone who looked at you the wrong way apart.

Later in the middle of the night the two of you are sleeping in his bed, but he wakes up to a buzzing sound coming from the nightstand. With a sigh, he glances at his phone and sees a new message. “Lucky bastard.” That’s all Soap writes him.

With a quiet chuckle he puts the phone back down and turns back to you, his huge arm wrapping around your waist to pull you against his chest. He truly wishes this moment would never end because he needs you like he needs air. Maybe he's already in love with you.

Maybe.

[chokarubi]

late night adventure — a birthday SMAU and hcs featuring boyfriend Haitani Rindou x fem reader

authors note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY RINNIE 💓 wasn't planning on writing anything but the influx of Rin posts and art for his birthday inspired me. enjoy my shot at smashing together a SMAU and hcs (do text-convos count as a SMAU?); also this got way longer and tbh the first half could exist on it's own since it's not particularly birthday related, but we're gonna run with it (─‿‿─)♡ posted: 10/19/24

Rindou really did show up at your house 5 minutes after he sent his last message

he stopped his bike in front of your house, dismounting and leaning back, waiting for you to come outside

opening the door and running out to meet Rin you were met with a cocky grin

when he saw how huffy you were he chuckled, "just wanted to see my girl as fast as I could, cmon you can't be mad on my birthday huh babe?" as he got up to wrap his arms around you

weak to his advances, you conceded "fine, but only this one time since it's a special occasion (￣ヘ￣)" nuzzling into his arms that shielded you from the cool night air

Rindou continued to tease, "so you got me out of bed babe, did you have something you wanted to do or you just couldn't wait until the morning to see me?"

"didn't have anything super specific in mind really, just wanted to spend some time with you. can we ride around and maybe grab a snack? I love riding on your bike Rinnie"

Rindou and you stopped by a FamilyMart, grabbing a few snacks before driving around with you aimlessly, just enjoying the night atmosphere, lights and how empty the streets were

Eventually feeling your arms loosen on his waist, Rindou knew you had gotten tired, likely from staying up all night to wish him a happy birthday at midnight and then further proposing a late outing

gently shaking you awake, not wanting you to fall off his bike, he took you back to his place

Rindou planned on cuddling with you and waking up at a more appropriate time, ready to celebrate his birthday

carrying you up to his and Ran's apartment, Rindou plopped you into his bed, nudging you to change into one of his shirts, adorably oversized on your body

wrapping his arms around you and you nuzzling into his neck, he fell asleep content, looking forward to waking up with you in his arms

he fell asleep quickly, comforted by your familiar warmth and weight

who knows what you and Ran had planned for his special day? he needed to rest up and shore up his energy stores

waking up; it's time for birthday festivities!

waking up, Rindou was surprised that you weren't in his bed

groggily getting up to search for you, he stepped out of his room to be met with a puff of confetti thrown into his face

"Happy Birthday Rinnie!! Happy Birthday little bro!"

Rindou shook the mountain of confetti out of his face and hair to see that you and Ran seemingly had woken up before him and decorated the apartment

on the kitchen island, Rindou saw an assortment of his favorite foods, some bought from bakeries + stores, some homemade by you

smiling, he gave Ran a hug, enduring his teasing to briefly show his grattitude

moving to you, Rindou leaned in for a kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist

giggling, you reach up to remove a piece of confetti he missed from his hair, Rindou leaning into your touch

the plan was to eat a late breakfast/early lunch, meet up with the S-62 boys at a club that was headlined by a DJ Rindou liked and then spend the rest of the night back at the apartment, drinking and watching tv

you gave your gift to Rindou at the end of the night, a lingerie set and a promise of a good night ♡(>ᴗ•)

final authors note: hope the whole quoted speech for reader and Rindou worked out, still experimenting to see what style I want to go with when writing; also feel free to comment! I love to hear people's thoughts on my writing!

[temis-de-leon]

Opposites attract - 500 F.C.

Characters: Barbatos x male!reader

Main Masterlist

500 followers masterlist

Requested by: anon

CW: tall, muscular, bearded MC, because there aren't enough of those. Possessive Barbatos because he simps for his boyfriend. OOC, maybe? I don't think so, but you'll be the judge of that. Also, manhandling

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Barbatos barely had any time to hear the stomping down the halls before the door opened with a bang and a couple of muscular arms hugged his body from behind with breath-taking force. He wheezed and grabbed the hands supporting his waist, but could only feel MC’s bearded face rubbing against his neck with excited giggles.

The whisk slowly sank in the batter and Barbatos sighed in defeat, finally indulging in the warmth behind him and whishing a certain prince wouldn’t barge in and burst the intimate bubble around them. Although his boyfriend smelt like sweat, which led him to believe he’d just been at the gym with Beelzebub, there was nothing in the three realms that would make him wish he weren’t where he was at the moment.

He knew there was a soft red hue across his cheeks and the unsteady beating of his heart filled his ears, surely loud enough for MC to hear as well. A few seconds passed before he was finally placed on the ground, but neither of them moved, swaying instead where they stood to the rhythm of silent music, the humming of the refrigerator and the wall clock’s ticking.

While Barbatos knew Lord Diavolo didn’t control the needs of his most demanding subjects, he couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit angry at him; disappointed even. It was childish and he was better than that, but he knew he had good reason to be bitter.

The heavy load of his work and the brothers’ incessant need of MC’s attention had left them little to no time for themselves, forcing them to cancel their very limited dates and reducing their daily messages to simple “good morning” and “good night” texts, and, while Barbatos knew sometimes sacrifices were necessary, MC didn’t seem to have the same mind-set.

Not like he wasn’t thankful for that.

They had agreed to visit an artisanal market downtown, a short timed event limited to scarce ingredients native to the Devildom which Barbatos had been extremely excited to use in various meals. Unfortunately, days went by without them having any time to go and left him sure he had lost the opportunity altogether.

It came to mind that, perhaps, MC’s intentions weren’t just to pay a quick visit and his suspicions proved to be correct when the deep comforting voice behind him spoke against his nape.

“What do you say we run away really quick and forget about everyone for a while?”

Barbatos chuckled before turning around, instantly causing MC’s smile. A big grin that made his eyes sparkle.

“While I would love to accept your proposal, I’m afraid I still have work to do”

He sighed, expecting disappointment from the cheery man, but that didn’t happen. Instead, he watched as MC walked to the freezer, grabbed a human beer bottle and opened it with the edge of the counter while smiling at Barbatos’s reprimanding gaze.

“You do know there’s a bottle opener in one of the cabinets, right, my dear?”

“And do you know today’s the last day the market’s going to be here?” he retaliated placing the bottle on his neck and sighing in relief at the coldness. Barbatos tried to seem unfazed about it “They’ll wrap up everything tonight and leave tomorrow morning”

“Tomorrow? Did they post the information somewhere?”

“No, honey, I just went with Lucifer yesterday to buy a couple of things for lunch. I asked one of the vendors”

“You went with Lucifer?”

MC nodded, ignorant to Barbatos’s cutting tone. There was a hint of possessiveness in their relationship that he wasn’t too happy to admit, but, at least, somehow, MC found it amusing. He was thankful for that and for being able to ignore it most of the time, but it was there after all.

And it made him want to have a nice chat with the eldest brother.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asked in the end, swallowing the bitterness.

MC shrugged his shoulders, having one last sip of beer before leaving the bottle on the counter and opening his arms in invitation. Barbatos rushed, embarrassed for a second at how quick and deep he’d fallen for the human.

His skin was warm, although not as much as before, and his arms were bulky enough to shield Barbatos from the outside world. He didn’t need it, never did and never asked for it, but he would be found dead before ever rejecting the gesture.

“I would’ve loved to go with you instead. That’s why I came here, to kidnap you”

That made him laugh and turn around, returning to the bowl of batter to rescue the long forgotten whisk. It was drenched in the mixture of sugar, eggs and flour and he knew by MC’s famished face that, if he didn’t wash it quickly, his beloved human would end up having an indigestion.

“You hang out with Beelzebub too much, MC”

“I wouldn’t if you came with me to the market” he answered with an exaggerated childish voice. “Gimme that, I’ll help you clean it faster”

“Absolutely not”

“Why not?”

“You’ll get sick!”

“No, I’m better than that”

“MC”

“Barbie”

They stared at each other, both of them trying to look serious with poorly kept smiles on their faces. MC crossed his arms, his biceps looking bigger than ever, and again Barbatos tried not to look too much.

“Come to the market with me”

“I have to finish baking for the Young Master…”

“Freeze the batter” he shrugged again “Can’t you do that?”

“Well, yes…”

“Then it’s decided”

Then, before Barbatos could react, MC grabbed the bowl and placed it in the freezer, next to the beer bottles the butler had ordered just for him days ago. He stayed still, too surprised to respond, and could only watch in mild disgust and fascination as MC licked the whisk clean before leaving it in the sink. He opened his mouth, not sure what to say, but his boyfriend acted faster again, bending down to hug his legs and throw him over the shoulder.

“MC...!”

“Let’s go, honey!” he interrupted him with joyfulness. “You’re making one hell of a dinner tonight!”

Barbatos knew he could easily get rid of MC’s grip and go back to the kitchen and his duties, but he’d be lying if he said he wanted to do that.

He hoped and wished Lord Diavolo wouldn’t need his presence for the next four to six hours, but, if he knew the prince as well as he knew he did, then he must’ve already known not to disturb him for the rest of the evening.

.

.

[goldenstring6123]

Zayne & Rafayel: Married to...

Warning: Angst no comfort. Major character death. implied suicide. Drama. Self insert. AFAB!reader.

Author's note: I was supposed to upload another thing but my tumblr is having problems so i hope y'all could settle for this in the meantime...

Zayne:

It was a bittersweet sensation. Seeing you at the front of the stage, wearing the gown you always dreamed of wearing. It was the most beautiful gown he had ever seen, yet the soft, warm glow of the chandelier made you prettier than the dress.

He was reluctant to attend your wedding; after all, he, too, proposed to you back when you were together. He got on his knee as well and offered you the ring you kept eyeing when you went on that particular date. He placed it on your finger, and from that point on, he thought that you were his future.

His foolish thinking blinded him to other possibilities. He didn't know where it went wrong, but all he knew was that he lost you and that your kindness to end it on nice terms with him was a double-edged sword.

Perhaps a part of him wished you never got along once you canceled the engagement. Maybe it would've been easier for him to move on. Maybe...

He could've used your anger as an excuse to not see you ever again.

But the heavens wished otherwise.

Much to his dismay, he never truly had an excuse to turn down your wedding invitation. You wished the best for each other and bid farewell on that chilly morning; he dropped you off at your house, wanting to embrace you and wipe away your tears that never stopped streaming.

Zayne, despite being the collected and intuitive man that he is, waited for you to at least call him back. You never did. Only the universe knows how many times he wanted to call you and how many times he wrote you a message only to delete it. But after a few months, he never once thought that the first time you ever contacted him again was to send him a wedding invitation.

The world was too cruel.

He gifted you both some old champagne, one that was recommended to him by Yvonne; it was the very same champagne he would open for you had you managed to celebrate your first wedding anniversary with him.

The rest of the reception was bleak. He couldn't recall things quite clearly despite not touching a single glass of alcohol. Those few hours, he was left in a daze, teetering between joy and grief, with him congratulating you face to face being his respite. He was happy that you were happy in the embrace of your new husband, and although another chapter awaits your life, his had come to a standstill.

The passage of time felt faster than it did, yet when you, your husband, and your daughter visited him for your child's check-up, only then was he reminded of where he was. It had been years since you ended your relationship with Zayne, but he clung to the memory of you every day.

Nothing changed for him. You were happily married with a child, and he was still working in the hospital as the chief surgeon, the only difference being he's now focusing more on research. It was unfortunate that his feelings didn't change, too.

Maybe in the next life, he'll get to stand next to you in front of the altar.

Rafayel:

Before him stood a painting.

A painting of you on the beach holding hands with your current husband. Under the moonlight, the painting seemed dull, devoid of the color that he ever so loved putting. It was an ugly painting, barely able to capture the smile you made on that day. Your husband's face was blurred in the painting, seemingly almost finished. The brush strokes were gentle, blending into one another, yet as the layers of paint built up, the strokes were sharper, rigid, almost seemingly cold, and coated with anger.

And it was precisely because of that that he scrapped it. And as he did, he pulled another canvas. It was a gift for you, a remembrance of a new beginning in your life and the end for Rafayel. He wished that even if you never got together in the end, there would still be remnants of him in your home.

He gave you a different painting. It was still at the beach, yet rather than blue, the sky was colored orange and red, and your bodies and faces turned into silhouettes, yet embracing one another. He couldn't capture your husband's face. You were beautiful in his painting, immaculate even, yet he can't ever recall the expression your husband made simply because he was imagining himself in that position.

With enough alcohol, Rafayel mustered the courage and energy to make the best piece he could; he wanted to see you light up once he gave you the painting. He wanted your smile to be the last memory rather than your tears when you broke up.

"Congratulations," he remembered saying to you.

"Thank you, Raf."

Your voice played in his head over and over again like a broken record. The alcohol swirled everything in sight, and seemingly, the only thing he could make sense of was the harsh crashing of the waves outside his home.

The night was the darkest at that hour. He reeked of alcohol.

Rafayel dropped the empty whiskey bottle onto his floor, hearing it shatter loudly. He picked up the biggest shard and dug it onto the canvas before him. Once, twice, thrice; he slashed the image of your husband, yet your figure was never harmed. He wasn't angry, no. He was grieving.

He flung the canvas away, disregarding whatever it crashed into, and the moment he did, another canvas stood against the wall.

He stared at it for a minute and then looked at the sea once more.

He felt happy, like a sense of pressure lifted off of his heart. With slow steps and feet against the cold parquet floor, he walked to the outside of his home, through the neglected garden, and to the sandy shoreline.

Every splash and whisper of the waves soothed his mind. The blank sky became a canvas for his thoughts. I love you's, I'm sorry's, and thank you's mingling with one another, incoherent. The image of your smile warmed up his body against the growing tide that crept to his waist. A phantom of an embrace, numbing the sharp, cold breeze against his damp back.

He waited for you for more than 800 years.

He's grown tired. He still wanted to wait, but he deserves some rest.

Emptiness washed over Rafayel as he continued to walk farther from the sandy terrain.

Nobody heard his woes, not a single soul; the only thing he left behind was that big canvas that captured his unfulfilled wishes.

The image of you kissing him under the moonlight.

His smile and yours are as vivid as they can be.

He'll wait for you again in the next life, but until then—

he'll rest with the sea.

Author footnotes: No footnotes but poor Rafayel.

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

[peacelovepandora]

New Breath, All Mine (Daddy's Here Sequel)

Jake Sully x Daughter!Reader

everyone was heartbroken after the first part, and the demand for a sequel was high, so here it is. also, I want to give full credit to @vampxra for proposing this wonderful sequel idea!

I hope you like this (and also happy birthday @vampxra consider this a b-day present) ! sorry to put y'all through the trauma of the first part hopefully this makes up for it

do yourself a favor and listen to The Songcord during the first part of this one too lmao

enjoy xx.

Time no longer felt like a factor. Your existence was only peace. Smiling to yourself, you stared up at the swinging tendrils of the massive, effulgent Tree of Souls. The sky was dark and the stars--that you admired so deeply--winked down at you. As you laid on your back, allowing the softness of the ground to relax you, the feeling of an additional presence pulled you from your serenity.

Sitting up, you looked around until your eyes fell on a tall figure. As the figure walked towards you, it slowly developed from a silhouette to a blurred image before finally materializing.

Your eyes widened as you stood up, preparing to greet the approaching presence. Though you'd never gotten the chance to meet him, something within you confirmed that he was exactly who you believed he was.

He slowly made his way up the slanted roots before coming face-to-face with you. Your mouth dropped in awe as you gawked up at him. Amused by your reaction, he tilted his head, which slightly agitated the beads in his hair.

"No greeting for me?" he asked, smirking as he opened his arms.

"You are . . ." you breathed, "the great warrior. Brother of my father. Uncle of me. Tsu'tey."

His smirk grew into a smile as you rushed forward before colliding with his chest. As you wrapped your arms around his neck, he closed his arms around your torso.

Tucking your face into his neck, you spoke again. "It is so wonderful to finally meet you."

You felt his large hands briefly rub your back. "And you, as well, my strong little warrior." He pulled away, placing hands on your shoulders. "But, I am afraid I cannot stay."

You frowned at his words. "Why?"

He smiled gently, grabbing one of your hands in his. "I am here to deliver a message to you. The Great Mother has sent me."

Your eyebrows flew up as your lips parted. Remaining quiet, you waited for him to continue. "You have been called," he stated simply.

When you didn't reply, he placed a gentle hand on your cheek. "You have called back--by your family," he continued, "The Great Mother sent me to you, allowing your family to communicate this message. However, the choice is yours."

After a long moment, with wide eyes, you finally choked out a response. "You mean, I can return to them?"

Tsu'tey bowed his head, giving a single nod.

For the first time since you'd arrived--and you had no clue how long you'd been there--you felt conflicted. As much as you wanted to see your family, you felt guilty about leaving The Great Mother when she had called you to her.

Sensing your battling thoughts, Tsu'tey gave your hand a squeeze. Snapping out of your daze, you looked back up at him.

"The Great Mother understands all. Nothing will change her love for you. You will join Her again."

His words were the confirmation that you needed. Joy washed over you as a teary smile crossed your face. Raising his hand to your lips, you placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles.

"Thank you, my wonderful uncle," you whispered, "I wish we could have talked longer. I will miss you."

Another soft smile spread across his face. "We will see each other again," he replied gently, "and we will talk for all of eternity, if that is your wish. For now, go be with your family."

Taking one last look at him, you finally nodded and smiled. He gazed fondly at you before stepping forward. Then, he gripped both sides of your head before leaning in. As soon his lips connected with your forehead, the world around you went white.

-

"The Great Mother protects only the balance of life," Mo'at explained in a low voice, "The choice will be Hers."

"I understand," Jake replied, nodding his head, "I just . . . wanna give it a try."

Mo'at nodded once before raising her hands, signaling for The People to begin. The luminescent areas of the Tree of Souls, and the surrounding roots, began to flash repeatedly. Your body, which your family had brought back to the forest, was spread beneath the glowing tendrils. Slim, glowing tendrils--that were the size of blades of grass--wrapped around your body, connecting your physical body to Eywa. The People chanted--all of their voices becoming one as they begged for Eywa to return your soul.

Jake, who was sitting on your right side, stared down at your peaceful face, praying for a miracle. Neytiri, who sat on the opposite side, watched your state while rubbing a gentle thumb over your hair. Your brothers sat on either side of your legs.

As Mo'at continued to conduct the revival ceremony, the flashing lights grew faster.

"Ting mikyun ayoer, ruxte, ma nawma sa'nok!" Mo'at chanted.

"Srung si poeru, ma Eywa!" The People chanted.

"Please," Jake whispered, "Bring her back to us."

Neytiri, being the only one that heard his words, placed a hand on his. He looked up, meeting her gaze before giving her a soft smile.

"Eo Eywa oe 'ia, eo Eywa oe 'ia, eo Eywa oe 'ia, eo Eywa oe 'ia," Mo'at repeated, rolling her eyes to the back of her head.

Arms spread out, she shook over your body, allowing herself to become lost within the ceremony. The lights within the roots flashed faster, resembling a strobe light pattern now. Then, after a long minute of chanting, Mo'at came to a sudden stop. Snapping her eyes open, she signaled for the people to cease their chants.

She lowered her gaze to your body, moving slowly as she kneeled over you. Jake's heart pounded against his ribcage as he waited for Mo'at to speak.

With an awestruck expression, Mo'at finally broke the silence. "She is with us."

Jake withheld a gasp as he snapped his head to Neytiri. Neytiri, who had been looking at her mother, turned to Jake. They stared at one another for a moment before lowering their gazes to you. Reaching out, Jake brushed a loose strand of hair from your forehead before cupping your face.

The air was still. No one dared to speak, or even take a breath. All they could do was wait.

-

"She is with us."

The echoing voice was familiar to your foggy mind. However, distinguishing who it belonged to was too much effort for you. At the moment, all you could do was try to center yourself.

For the longest time, you felt disconnected--like you were a floating presence, suspended in an airless vacuum. However, ever-so-slowly, you began to feel the world around you.

There was air. It was crisp, but not uncomfortably cold. Something soft was behind you, but you couldn't distinguish what it was. Your existence slowly morphed from nothingness to darkness.

It's dark, you thought to yourself, before realization began to dawn on you, My eyes must be closed.

Then, the object behind you became clearer as you felt gravity pushing down on you.

I'm laying down, you realized, I'm laying down on something soft, and I feel it behind me.

The elements of the surrounding world, that you'd once known, were slowly beginning to materialize in your mind, grounding you from your spiritual state.

As you became aware of the body that you were in, you struggled to move. However, you felt paralyzed.

Slowly, my child. Not yet, an unknown, yet comforting voice rang within your head, startling you, You will return at your own pace.

Suddenly, something agitated you. Then, it agitated another part of you. Concentrating, you tried to picture your surroundings.

My face, you decided, Someone is touching my face.

The touch did wonders to ground you further. It gave you perspective. You relaxed into its warm embrace, allowing the remaining parts of yourself to materialize. Before long, you felt steady.

Your body was laying down on the soft, marsh-like material of the ground. Small tendrils were gripping the sides of your skin. A large hand was cupping your cheek, slowly rubbing a thumb over your cheekbone. At last, you felt like you could breathe.

"Hhhh." A small, almost intangible, sigh, left your lips.

The thumb froze its movements, lifting itself above your skin, hovering shakily over your cheek.

"Baby girl?" a hesitant voice spoke.

It was so close. It had to be right above you. Fatigue faded and a new wave of strength washed over you. Using this strength, you concentrated on the muscles of your eyes. After a minute, you managed to lift them open.

At first, everything was white. However, the white quickly faded as a hazy world transpired before you. You were too busy trying to clear your vision to take notice of the gasps and screams around you.

"Oh Great Mother!" a voice wailed, "Great Mother, thank you! Thank you!"

The back of your head was cupped and two faces nuzzled into your cheeks. Blinking rapidly, you finally saw the world clear around you. The faces lifted, and you met the gazes of your mother and father.

After processing their faces, you finally gained the strength to speak.

"Hi." Your voice came out breathlessly.

Smiling widely, they both broke into a relieved wave of laughter. Their eyes, which were pouring with tears, glanced at each other before returning to you.

"Hello, my love," Neytiri replied as Jake spoke a raspy, "Hi, baby girl."

"Baby sister?"

Your eyes shifted behind your father's head. A joyous expression spread across your face as Neteyam and Lo'ak came into view. Tears were leaking from their faces, as well.

"Big brothers," you greeted, smiling widely at them.

Neteyam ran his hand over his face, wiping the tears, before scooting closer to you. When he reached his hand out, you immediately outstretched yours. The two of you grabbed hands and squeezed tightly. Lo'ak did the same, grabbing your other hand.

"I love you, big brothers," you said before turning to your father, "Daddy?"

He'd been staring at you, an expression of astonishment still evident on his face. "Daddy?" you called again.

He snapped out of his trance. "Y-Yes?" he replied, nerves evident in his voice, "I'm here, I'm here."

"Uncle Tsu'tey," you answered, making his mouth fall agape, "He delivered the message--from all of you. He told me that you all were calling to me, and that The Great Mother could return me to you."

Jake's eyes, which had slightly calmed, were overwhelmed with a new wave of tears. Tilting his head, he gripped the back of your neck.

"Is that right?" he asked, shifting his eyes to Neytiri.

When you turned to your mother, she smiled at you. "He is your family too," she whispered, brushing a finger over your cheek, "He came for guidance."

Nodding your head, you released your brothers' hands before cupping the back of your parents' heads. They leaned in, allowing you to hold them closely. Jake and Neytiri reached their hands out, pulling Neteyam and Lo'ak in as the family wrapped themselves around your small body.

-

As your family walked away from the tree, along with the rest of The People, you looked up at your father.

"Daddy?" you called.

Jake, who had been walking with an arm around your shoulders, looked down. "Yeah, baby?"

Your mother, who was holding the hand farthest from Jake, looked over at the sound of your voice.

"Are we still living with the Metkayina?" you asked.

He sighed before tightening his grip on you. "It isn't safe for you here, because this is our home. It's known to everyone," he answered, making you nod in response, "but with the Metkayina, you'll be safer. And, should anything happen, you'll be protected by Tonowari and his family while we go out on the field."

Gazing in front of you, you answered in a quiet voice. "I won't be fighting anymore."

"No." Jake, Neytiri, Neteyam, and Lo'ak replied together.

"Hell no. Absolutely not. Out of the question," Jake continued sternly, "We lost you once, but were fortunate enough to be blessed with a miracle."

When you didn't respond, he glanced down at you. Sensing his eyes, you lowered your gaze before nodding obediently.

Realizing that he'd let his emotions get the best of him, he halted his movements before turning to you and cupping your face with both hands. "I'm sorry, baby girl. I just--I got a little . . . " He stopped, closing his eyes to collecting his words. "I won't lose you again," he whispered, shaking his head as his eyes grew hazy, "I wouldn't--I couldn't even bear it the first time."

Feeling your own eyes gloss over, you tilted your head before gripping one of his wrists. "I know, Dad. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

His hands, which were rubbing your cheeks, moved up to cup the top of your head. They smoothed over your head and ran down your lengthy hair. He'd always petted your hair, but you knew that this act of comfort was moreso for himself, than for you.

He couldn't believe you were there, standing right in front of him, breathing again. He was so afraid that, if he disconnected his physical touch, you would disappear and fade into a cloud of dust.

"Don't apologize," he finally replied, "Don't you ever apologize for this. If anything . . . we should be thanking you . . . for coming back to us."

He shifted his gaze to look at the rest of your family. Neteyam stepped closer before taking your free hand. After smiling glossily at each member of your family, you looked back at your father.

"I still needed all of you," you replied, "and you still needed me."

Cupping the back of your head, Jake placed a kiss on your forehead.

-

The pain, so familiar, was almost as strong as the first time you'd felt it. The vision of your chest, and the red liquid leaking from it, was branded into your mind. It was so clear, like you were in the moment, once again.

"Y/N."

You looked up at Neteyam, and his petrified gaze that paralyzed you.

"Baby girl, look at me. Open you eyes."

Sucking in a harsh breath, your eyes snapped open as you jerked yourself to a sitting position. Panting, you blinked rapidly before looking around, desperately trying to establish your surroundings.

"Baby, hey. Hey, hey, hey."

Arms were around you, restricting your movements. The panic spiked within you as you thrashed harder, still seized by the terror of your nightmare.

"Shh, shh, shh. I know, I know. It's okay, it's okay."

You finally recognized your father's soft coos. Freezing your movements, you looked around the dimly-lit hut. However, when your eyes failed to locate him, your breath picked up again.

"Dad," you wheezed, feeling your chest tighten up.

"Here, baby," Jake whispered, gently turning your head to face him, "I'm right here."

He was cradling you, but his arms were also restricting your arms, keeping them at your sides. You wheezed as you struggled to break from your frantic state.

"I was--It was--"

He only nodded, rocking you in his lap. "I know, I know."

Jake knew what your nightmare was about. In fact, he'd been expecting this. There was no way that you'd adjust back to your life without the trauma you'd experienced coming back to haunt you in some form.

Your shallow breaths prohibited your ability to form a sentence. "I can't--I can't--"

"I got you," he whispered, nodding down at you, "I got you, baby. It's all over. It's all over."

He grabbed your shaking hand and pressed it to his chest, allowing you to feel his heartbeat. As you rested your head in the crook of his elbow, Jake kept his gaze fiercely trained on you and stopped his rocking movements.

"You feel this?" he asked, squeezing you gently to emphasize his grip on you, "I've got you. You're mine. My baby, my little girl. All mine." He shook his head. "No one's taking you from me ever again."

Shaking all over, you sucked in a harsh, audible breath as tears began pouring down your cheeks. A long, loud sob tore through your lips before you took in another loud breath.

It took everything in Jake to hold back his own tears. The fragility of your state made it imperative for him to show no signs of weakness. You were looking to him for comfort--for protection from the horrors of your mind.

"Big breaths, baby. Big breaths," he instructed, resuming his rocking movements, "That's it."

Using his chest as a reference, you slowly adjusted yourself to imitate his breathing patterns. He flattened his large hand over yours.

"That's my girl." His voice proved to be highly therapeutic for you. It was the first voice you'd heard, and the last one you'd heard. "So good. You're doing so good."

After a long few minutes, he'd finally managed to ground you from your panic attack. Your breaths grew even and your sobs quieted. Apart from Jake's continuous rocking motions, no signs of you distress remained.

"All mine," he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief as he gazed down at you.

As your eyes began to droop, you snapped them open. Finally breaking from Jake's grasp, you sat up before scooting next to him, never taking your hand off of his chest.

He squeezed the hand that he was holding. "What is it, baby?"

"I can't go back to sleep," you whimpered, shaking your head, "I won't."

Jake sighed, completely understanding your fear. However, he desperately wanted you to get some more rest, knowing the toll a lack of sleep could take on you--physically and emotionally.

He thought for a moment, rubbing his thumb over your hand. Then, an idea finally materialized in his head. Gently, he stood up, raising you up with him. When you gave him a questioning look, he nodded towards the hut entrance.

"C'mon," he said, taking your hand and guiding you towards the doorway.

The two of you walked a small distance before arriving at a hammock that your family had set up outside the hut. Jake sat on the swinging object. Then, he spread his legs out and positioned himself to lay down. Finally, he gave your hand a gentle tug, signaling you to come to him.

"C'mere."

He pulled you into the spot next to him, cupping your head as you placed it on his chest.

"I don't want to sleep," you stressed, earning a shush from him.

"We aren't," he whispered, "We're stargazing."

For a long moment, Jake waited until he felt you relax against him--completely letting your guard down--before initializing the second part of his plan.

His mind hadn't wandered to his Earth life in years. However, a soft, Earthling tune, echoing from the distant memories of his childhood, overtook his mind when you'd first protested the idea of sleeping.

Prior to Pandora, music--or any artistic realm--never proved to be Jake's forte. However, life with the Omaticaya had changed every fiber of his DNA. Many nights had been spent singing, dancing, chanting, and celebrating. Therefore, it wasn't too out-of-character for him to sing for you. However, it was unusual for him to sing an Earth song.

"Stay awake, don't rest your head," he slowly began, making your eyes--which you hadn't realized had closed--snap back open, "Don't lie down upon your bed."

He couldn't place where he knew the song from but, for some reason, the lyrics came with a foreign ease. "While the moon drifts in the skies, stay awake don't close your eyes."

Glancing down to check on you, he watched your eyes begin to droop again. Acting carefully, he began petting your head, further coaxing your tiredness. "Though the world is fast asleep, though your pillow soft and deep," he continued, dropping his voice to a lower volume, "You're not sleepy as you seem. Stay awake, don't nod and dream . . ."

Just as he'd hoped, your head fell limp on his chest. Releasing a breath, he leaned down and gave you a kiss. Then, he relaxed against the hammock, enjoying the feeling of your beating heart and peaceful breaths--simple things he was so thankful that you'd been given a second chance at possessing.

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