#rosys big writing weekend

[rosyredlipstick]

mariah carey is soooo conchell-coded

[penkura]

Father's Day Moments

Note: Sorry this so late today, I've been busy with my own stuff this weekend, but I got it done! :) This is simply Father's Day moments with a small surprise in each of them, I had a blast writing these. 💚 I know again that this day can be hard for some, so if this isn't something you're okay with reading, please feel free to skip it and read something makes you happy today. 💚💚

Ace has rarely ever thought about Father’s Day, considering his own issues with his father and all that growing up. Even after joining the Whitebeard Pirates he never thought too much of the day, only when Marco or someone else brought it that it was about that time of year. Once he has own his children, the sweet little girls you both share, he still doesn’t think about the day as being that important, it feels more for the kids then it does for the dad in his mind. You do most of the caring for your daughters anyway, even though Ace helps as much as he can when he’s not busy, you two are a team, you should use the day to rest together, right?

That’s why, after you get Rogue and Ann to give Ace the little handmade cards you helped them with (he’s not crying, you’re seeing things), Ace tries to pass the girls off to Marco and Izo for the day, having asked the two the day before if they could take the girls off the ship for the afternoon so you two could relax together. They both had agreed, you find it very odd they’re so willing to take the two when they’ve jokingly called your daughters little hell fires, Rogue and Ann are happy to go with them onto the island you’re docked at for a couple hours.

You’re still skeptical even when all Ace does is pull you into bed for a nap (just a nap, he swears when you ask if he’s got other motives). “Ace, what’s this all about? You know it’s—”

“Father’s Day, yeah, I know,” Ace buries his face in your hair and you can’t help but nearly melt in his arms, he’s so warm all the time, it feels so nice just to lay with him, “But you deserve some time off too~”

The way he nuzzles into your neck makes you giggle, wanting to say something about how you already had your day until he speaks up again.

“I wanna have another baby with you~”

That’s not a surprise to you, he’s said it several times since Ann turned four and you first brought it up, just wondering what his opinion would be and Ace promising he’d get back to you when he had decided. He finally did just about a week or two ago, right after her birthday, telling you that one more would be perfect, your family would be complete whether boy or girl.

“Yeah, that sounds good, Ace.”

It’s a few moments of silence before you hear him snoring, but it still makes you laugh softly before running your fingers through his hair while he sleeps.

“Happy Father’s Day, you dork.”

~~

Father’s Day had left a bad taste in Law’s mouth for a long time, having lost his own father and then Corazon, it first made him resent the day before it became just another day that meant time was passing by. No one to celebrate meant he could ignore it, until you came along and blessed him with your son and daughter, the two angels he watches play doctor almost every day with their stuffed animals. Eight-year-old Rosi and two-year-old Cora, both his spitting image and the brightest part of his days, apart from you obviously.

The day is quiet while your children play, Law trying to take a nap for once when he feels someone come over and put something on his chest, cracking one eye open to see Cora has her toy stethoscope while Rosi holds her up so she can reach, and it makes him smile. They’re both just darling, even if Rosi is reaching the point where he’ll say how embarrassing such statements are.

“What’s up? I need a checkup from Dr. Cora?”

She giggles and nods, while Rosi huffs a little. Cora has gotten so big, its hard for him to hold her for very long. He asks if she’s almost done, when she nods again and takes her toy off Law’s chest.

“All done!” Law ruffles her hair a bit and thanks her, as Rosi tells her they should go check her stuffed bunny now. The two hurry back to their toys, as Law tries again to nap before he feels like someone else is watching him, opening his eyes to see you leaned over giving him a smile.

“Have you gotten to rest at all?”

“No, but it’s fine,” shaking his head a bit, Law notices you seem to want to say something, and gives you a look, “You okay?”

“Mm,” nodding you look over to your children, watching them briefly as they wrap bandages around the bunny’s ears, “Just…what would you say to one more?”

Law raises an eyebrow and sees how fidgety you are by asking, wondering if you’ve already gotten an answer and you’re just double checking with him that it would be okay, or if you just suddenly have baby fever again. Either way, he doesn’t think it would be a bad thing. It would be welcomed.

“I think that would be fine…”

The way you light up and grin makes Law start to smile too, even when you begin to ramble a bit about how you haven’t felt well, which he knew already, and how you had gone and taken a pregnancy test, and well, looks like your ‘one more’ is coming sooner than expected based on the pink plus sign when you show him the test. Rosi and Cora were both planned, and while this one wasn’t, there’s an excitement in his heart that Law can’t deny at the thought of having another child with you.

Its not such a bad Father’s Day gift honestly.

~~

To be honest, Penguin never thought he’d be this lucky. He never thought he’d be lucky enough to find you, to get married and have two daughters with you, and now have the joy of bringing home your newborn son on Father’s Day, two days old and baby Sage has joined his sisters in your home, the eight-year-old and four-year-old girls both squealing over how tiny he is.

Penguin beams with pride while he watches them, Wren has gotten over her jealousy of having little siblings ever since Ivy started to get older and could play with her. When you told them the baby was a boy, they were both ecstatic to get a baby brother, and loved coming to the hospital to see and meet him.

As the two try to push each other out of the way to see him while Penguin holds Sage, you put your hands on their heads and quiet them down.

“Hey now, that’s enough. We don’t want to scare him. Don’t you two something for daddy anyway?”

Wren gasps loudly before nodding and grabbing Ivy’s hand, yelling for Penguin to wait there while they ran off to their room. He gives you a confused look while you sit beside him and start to coo at Sage.

“Babe, what’d you do?”

“I didn’t do anything. It was all them.”

When they finally come back, both are holding drawings they’d made the other day with you watching them (mostly since they were using markers). Wren had drawn your whole family as penguins while Ivy had mostly done stick figure drawings of your now family of five, both making sure to include the newest addition. They both tell Penguin ‘happy Father’s Day’ as they hand the pictures over, and he has to fight to not to cry while he hugs them close, kissing them both on the cheek multiple times and making them giggle.

“You’re both the best daughters I could’ve ever asked for!”

~~

Sanji doesn’t take a day off, what are you talking about? The man is a chef, a professional one at that, and with your twins tenth birthday just two days away, he’s busy making their birthday cakes and all the snacks and treats their friends are going to want at the party too. Even though he knows it’s Father’s Day, you know it too, your twins and second daughter have already given him the cards they’d made, he did cry and didn’t try to hide it, and he went right back to work. It might be a day for him to relax, but he doesn’t for more than those few minutes earlier in the day. He’d taken your three-month-old son Elie after you’d finished nursing him, strapping him against his chest in a baby carrier and getting to work while your baby slept against him so you could rest instead.

Honestly, it kind of made you feel bad because you’d already gotten your day, and Sanji was using his to prepare for your twins birthday party and watch your youngest son, your older three children were busying themselves with cleaning their rooms. You’ve already finished the laundry for the day and go to the kitchen to see Sanji isn’t up and cooking at the moment, instead sitting at the table and playing with your small son’s hands while talking to him while Elie looks up at him.

“I feel really blessed to have all of you, Elie. I really hope that you and your siblings know that as you grow up…” Sanji sighs a bit and places a soft kiss on Elie’s head, “I never want you to feel like I did.”

“They won’t,” you surprise Sanji by wrapping your arms around his shoulders and kissing his cheek, “You’re a wonderful father and doing so well with them, Sanji. Just from watching you with all four of our babies, they all absolutely love you.”

“My love—”

“And don’t argue with me, you know its true.”

Sanji laughs and nods, knowing he’d lose that argument in a heartbeat. You’re always so headstrong and just want him to realize that yes, he’s doing a million times better than his own father did, he’s on par with Zeff nowadays, who your kids also have come to adore as their grandfather.

You look around the kitchen a bit, asking if Sanji wants any help, before he starts listing off everything he still has to do and you just watch him. He starts to take Elie out of the baby carrier and hand him over to you as he sees the look on your face.

“Yeah, I’ll uh…sit with Elie while you cook.”

He laughs again, before kissing your forehead and giving you a smile. “That would be wonderful, my love.”

~~

You never truly know how to celebrate Father’s Day when the father of your children is Zoro. It feels like he doesn’t care about it, even when you roll your eyes at him and tell him just to tell you what he wants, before he shrugs and says he doesn’t need anything. He’s got you, Keitaro, and Kuina, and the rest of the Straw Hats, what else could he possibly want or need? There’s nothing material he needs really, unless you want to get him the expensive sake he likes but you think a liquor store owner might find it highly concerning that a seven-month pregnant woman is buying alcohol, which just made Zoro laugh at you when you brought that up.

Ah right, that’s right, it’s not just you, your two children, and the rest of the Straw Hats anymore, or won’t be in a few short weeks. The baby you actually planned this time would be joining you all soon, that’s more than enough. He definitely doesn’t need anything when he thinks about that, just that you and this baby are safe through the rest of your pregnancy and the birth. That’s all he really wants.

Maybe some of that sake still but he’ll get that another way.

His morning meditation that day is interrupted when he senses Keitaro nearby, the seven-year-old trying to sneak up and catch Zoro off guard, though it never works thanks to his observation haki. Even when your son throws his arms around him and yells “gotcha!”, Zoro just smirks a bit, keeping his eyes closed.

“I knew you were there.”

“Daaaad, you’re cheating!” Keitaro whines and pouts, trying to climb onto Zoro’s back before giving up and going around to sit in his lap. “Mama said haki is cheating!”

“That’s only cause your mom can’t sneak up on me either.” He opens his one good eye and stares down at his little clone, the boy still pouting with his arms crossed over his chest. “Where’re your mom and sister?”

“Umm, Kuina’s still asleep, and mama was awake, but said she was going to lay down cause the baby was making her sleepy again.”

“And what are you doing up so early?”

Keitaro starts to look away a bit, shyly trying not to give anything up, before leaning his head against Zoro’s chest and saying “I wanted to hang out just with you…”

When he was younger, Zoro never thought that having kids was for him. He thought they’d get in the way, that there wasn’t any reason to really have them around apart from legacy, but then you showed up and turned everything upside down. Keitaro wasn’t planned, but he’d brought so much more to both your lives than either of you expected. Your sweet Kuina was a surprise too, you swear she’s made Zoro softer in more recent years, something he tries to deny but everyone else can see it when she’s got his attention.

And your coming addition, the one that was planned, even if they hadn’t been you still would welcome this baby happily. Sometimes, Zoro still isn’t sure that fatherhood suits him, but you swear to him that he’s the best father you’ve ever seen, even better than your own, and maybe you’re right, just from how Keitaro quietly wants to spend time with his dad, just the two of them before the day really gets started. Its more apparent when Kuina convinces him to read to her, and when your unborn child kicks at his hand while he talks to them.

“All right, buddy,” Zoro sets one hand on Keitaro’s back and strokes his hair with the other, watching as he starts to fall back asleep too, not used to being up this early, “You stay with me for now then.”

Maybe he’s not so bad at this fatherhood thing after all.

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hello I'm sorry if I'm bothering you but I had an idea about a hazbin hotel request, so what if everyone at the hotel (except Alastor) consider the reader a big sister who takes shit from no one, like will slap someone without hesitation if they talk bad about any of their friends, especially when Valentino tries something will literally beat him up until he's half dead. (If you're not comfortable with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or goodnight)

Oh, nonnie, you are never a bother! I love getting new requests, feeds my soul tbh. I love this idea too! As much as I love romantic x readers and NS/FW x readers, I also love me some platonic Hazbin 🤍 good morning/afternoon/evening to you and ENJOY!

Notes: fem!reader, this is kinda short sorry, added Alastor at the end but just a snippet :)

TW: aggression, fighting, swearing

Rough and Tough- Hazbin x platonic!reader

Charlie ❤️‍����

Adores your passion and bravery but is often the one to hold you back or stand between you and your foe.

She loves keeping you close tho bc she has a hard time asserting dominance and speaking up for herself and you’re always willing to speak your mind on her behalf. You always help uplift and empower her, she greatly appreciates that.

Charlie also really does see you as a sister. As an only child, she grew up pretty sheltered and lonely, but being with you now is really healing her inner child.

When Charlie is having any kind of issue, she always goes to Vaggie, her darling girlfriend. But, when Charlie feels the need to vent about and get advice on her relationship with Vaggie, she turns to you. When Vaggie is busy and away, Charlie goes to you.

Pretty much every weekend, Charlie invites you and the other girls in the hotel to her room for a sleep over and some fun girly time

You def tagged along with her to the meeting with heaven along with Vaggie and while Vaggie is like “keep a cool head, babe.” You’re literally trying to climb up to where Adam is seated so you can rip that smug smile off his stupid, ignorant, narcissistic face and slap Lute with it.

Vaggie’s just panicking as she tries to keep you and Charlie calm lmao

Vaggie ⚔️

TWO PEAS IN A POD TBH

Vaggie adores you and you are often each other’s impulse control and each others biggest instigators

Vaggie getting pissed that someone is trying to sabotage the hotel and storming up to the traitor with her angelic spear cocked back and ready to kill

Enter big sis pulling her back and trying to talk some sense into her

Also you getting livid when someone talks negatively about Vaggie being a fallen angel, or worse being a former exorcist and being untrustworthy

Bad words and ugly names are pouring from your angry mouth, fists balled up and ready to go, muscles tense in anticipation

Cue Vags hugging you as she pulls you away, whispering that it doesn’t bother her so don’t let it bother you

But it bothers you bc you know it bothers her…she doesn’t deserve that.

As Rosie said, maybe she’s trying to be redeemed too…? Being shit talked is only going to put bad thoughts in her head and you can’t stand to see your family belittled like that

Sometimes, if the situation is just bad enough, you and Vaggie lose it together and no one can stop yall now. It’s honestly just as frightening as when Alastor shows his full demon form, you and Vaggie violently teamed up together like this.

Angry Vaggie + Angry big sis reader = a terrible ending for whoever is at the sharp end of her spear and at the mercy of your fists

Angel Dust 🕸️

Is very intimidated by you at first but grows so fond of you as he gets to know you. He admires your courage so much, he wishes he could be more like you.

He never feels safer than when he’s at the hotel with you near by. He knows that whatever he lacks when up against an opponent, you’ll be there to pick up the slack and watch his back.

Angel doesn’t have many true friends or familial figures in hell, and he misses his own sister so terribly. You fill that empty spot in his heart so perfectly, he wishes you had been around when he was still alive.

You two hang out a lot- his flirty, bubbly, goofy demeanor and your kind, accepting but stubborn attitude makes for some fun late night talks and some exciting outings together

Some dude tries to touch Angel out on the street without his consent? Oh fuck no. Before he knows it, the loser demon is groaning from the hard concrete floor as you grab Angel by the wrist, both of you stepping over the banged up body of the handsy asshole.

“It’s called consent! Look it up, ya fuckin prick.” Angel gets such a confidence boost being with you, you are the physical threat and he is the voice that tears them apart even further. You bruise their skin, he bruises their ego

Angel can’t help but laugh everytime you lose it for him. He just enjoys your company and support so much. He says he can handle himself and while he totally can, it’s just nice to have someone back him up, someone who truly cares for him.

Husk 🃏

BRO IS SUCH AN INSTIGATOR!!!

While Vaggie and Charlie often try to hold you back and calm you down, Husk cheers you on in any and every tense situation you find yourself in

“Oooooh you’re in for it now, bone head.” He’ll smirk and watch with a pleased smirk on his face as you pummel some sinner who dared to threaten the hotel and its residents

Husk’s fav pastime is sitting back with a bottle of booze as he watches you just go ham on some stupid, loud mouth loser who tried to pick a fight with the former overlord

Husk isn’t afraid of a fight, he’s not afraid to get up close and personal with the action but he must admit it’s nice to feel cared for enough to have someone sacrifice their own safety just to protect him.

The only time Husk has intervened during one of your episodes of frustration and rage is when Alastor said something to Husk that rubbed you the wrong way. Seeing Husk’s terrified and helpless expression in response to Alastor’s threats lights a fire in your chest.

“How dare you talk to him like that! I don’t give a shit if you own him, he’s not your fucking pet, you piece of-“

Husk practically, no literally begged Alastor to let it go and leave you be which he did but only bc he sort of admired your lack of fear and your loving but fierce protective attitude.

Husk also greatly admires your lack of fear and strong will. He wishes you were his family for real, maybe he wouldn’t be so depressed and fucked up.

Sir Pentious 🐍

Admires tf out of you, babies tf out of you.

He sees you as more of a little sis, wanting to coddle and defend you always.

Sees you coming back to the hotel one day with some bruises and bloody hands and hes immediately comforting you, trying to clean you up even tho you’re clearly fine.

But, he must confess he loves teaming up with you bc together you’re the perfect pair- Pentious with his tools and inventions and intricate weapons and you with your amazing strength and hot headed, witty comebacks and your courage and your quick thinking.

When he feels that he needs to step in and keep you from doing something stupid, he does so with all his might. Pentious would rather face your wrath himself than let you go and get yourself hurt or killed.

Go ahead, take your anger out on him but don’t risk yourself just for him.

You two totally bond over wanting to be seen as evil, devious and powerful but you’re both actually soft little sweet hearts deep down.

You two cry together a lot lmao. It’s always him crying first and then his crying triggers you.

He would frequently talk to you about how you are always so brave, fearless, strong, never faltering, never second guessing yourself. He’d ask where you learned to be so sure of yourself, he wants to learn to be more like that.

Alastor 🩸

SEES YOU AS HIS EQUAL BUT WILL NEVER ADMIT IT. CANT UNDERSTAND HOW YOU STAND YOUR GROUND AGAINST EVERY ENEMY YOU’VE EVER TAKEN ON, EVEN HIMSELF. YOU HAVE NO POWERS, YOU OWN NO SOULS, YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS PARTNERS OR BLOOD RELATIVES DOWN HERE SO WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU’RE SO SPECIAL??? YOU’RE NOT SCARED OF HIM? OH, VERY INTERESTING. HE WANTS TO CUT YOUR LITTLE BRAIN OPEN AND EXAMINE IT, YOU’RE JUST AN ENIGMA TO HIM, HE ADORES YOU. WISHES YOU REALLY WERE THE DAUGHTER HE SPAWNED FOR REAL FOR REAL HE’D BE SO PROUD

[sansaorgana]

I had a dream last night for Buck, and it's kinda a cute request idea ✨️

So like obvious Buck x Reader, them being married after the war and they have a daughter that was like 3 years old. But the boys were there too Bucky, Rosie and Croz (who also bought his daughter with him) and everyonemet up at a park.

The two children were ✨️forcing✨️ the males to play with them and at the end of the day they were renamed to Uncle Bubu (bucky), Uncle Rose, Uncle Bug (buck) and Uncle Croco (don't ask me why or how but I dreamt it like that 😂)

hello! thank you for these requests 💝 the story is so adorable and domestic, I wish I could live in it, honestly 😭 I looked up popular 1940s girl names because I didn't feel comfortable with looking up the name of real Crosby's daughter for obvious reasons lol 😅

I have about 10 requests with Buck at the moment in my inbox to write lol (and one about Bucky) so please, go easy with them for a while 👉🏻👈🏻 especially that I also want to open my requests for Feyd, too 🤩

Little Gloria had been excited since the early morning for the arrival of uncle Bucky. Her godfather lived in a different part of the country and she was seeing him only a few times a year.

You were in the kitchen, preparing Bucky’s favourite food to greet him with it, while Gloria was on Gale’s lap as they were both sitting by the window to make sure not to miss Bucky’s arrival.

When she started to squeal and clap her hands, you realised that Bucky had to be already outside.

“What the hell,” your husband muttered and you furrowed your brows.

“What? Did he bring some lady?” You asked and approached the window curiously.

Bucky’s car was parked on your driveway but he was not the only one leaving it. However, there was no lady but two other men and a little girl who looked more less your daughter’s age.

“Who are these people?” You asked Gale. You didn’t know every person your husband had served with personally.

“The one with the moustache is Rosie and the other one is Harry Crosby,” he looked up at you. “I guess the girl is Crosby's daughter. She should be about a year older than our little Gloria,” he put your daughter down on the floor because she was getting impatient to finally run outside and greet her favourite uncle.

“Well, I don’t mind finally getting to know them but we don’t have enough beds for them all to stay over,” you worried.

“We’ll settle it somehow, come,” Gale stood up and took your hand to lead you to the hall.

Gloria was already waiting by the door and struggling to reach the doorknob. Gale chuckled at her and opened the door for her as she ran outside. Bucky smiled widely at the sight of her and crouched down as he opened his arms. Gloria hurried to hug him and you followed her.

“Hello, Princess,” Bucky squeezed her tight and carried her up. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Cleven,” he greeted you and your husband with a wink. “I’ve gathered some company on the way, I hope you don’t mind,” he pointed at the men behind him. “Little reunion, how about that?”

“Oh, it’s nice to finally meet you!” You reached your hand out towards the man with the moustache.

“Nice to finally meet you, too, Mrs. Cleven. I’m Rosie,” he introduced himself.

“Please, I’m just (Y/N),” you giggled and shook his hand before reaching it to another man.

“Harry Crosby,” he nodded at you. “And that little lady is Connie,” he introduced his daughter. “My wife wanted a weekend for herself and I thought that it would be nice if our daughters could meet. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I hope you don’t mind us in general,” Rosie added.

“I don’t mind at all,” you chuckled nervously as your husband hugged Crosby and Rosie. Little Connie was staring at him with big wide eyes before shyly hugging him, too.

“Hello, Connie,” Gale booped her on the nose and she giggled. “I’m uncle Buck and this is aunt (Y/N),” he pointed at you.

“Connie, what do we say?” Harry looked down at her.

“Hello,” she blushed.

“Oh, she’s adorable,” you smiled.

“I am adorable, too!” Gloria exclaimed. “Right, uncle Bucky?”

“Of course!” He assured her with a laugh and kissed her on the cheek.

Gale helped Rosie to get the bags out of the trunk and you all walked inside and into the living room, chatting about the weather and what the ride had been like.

“I’m a little worried about the beds,” you explained. “Girls can sleep together, we have a guest bedroom that I have prepared for Bucky. Someone can sleep on the sofa of course. But we’re still one bed short,” you sighed.

“A professional worrier,” Gale teased you. “She’s like you, Croz.”

“Excuse me, that seems like a serious problem to me!” You put your hand on your hips.

“You’re really adorable, (Y/N),” Bucky patted your shoulder and you furrowed your brow. “We’re military men. We can sleep on the floor,” he explained.

In the evening you were all sitting in the garden while Gale was managing the barbecue and you were helping him. Bucky – as energetic as always – was running around with Connie and Gloria. Rosie and Croz were sitting by the table and drinking beer while watching them and you were sighing every time one of them ran over your flower patch.

“Daddy, daddy, look!” Gloria was calling for Gale all the time, hoping he would join the fun.

“Go to them,” you pushed his shoulder lightly. “I’ll take care of the grill,” you promised.

Your husband leaned in to place a kiss upon your cheek and ran to Gloria, trying to catch her and attack her with tickles. Harry put the bottle of beer down and did the same to his daughter.

Rosie stood up and joined you by the barbecue as if you needed a male’s assistance while turning the meat and vegetables over.

“I can handle that, really,” you chuckled. “You men act like we haven’t been managing everything on our own while you were gone,” you pointed out.

“You have?” He asked playfully and you rolled your eyes.

“Do all people in New York run their mouths?” You asked with a cheeky smile.

“Yes,” he winked at you.

“Then I wonder why I wasn't born there,” you laughed.

“You run your mouth, too, Mrs. Cleven?”

“Gale thinks so sometimes. Right, Gale?” You looked at him and he furrowed his brows at you. Little Gloria was sitting on his shoulders as he was pretending to be an aeroplane.

“What?” He asked.

“I’m telling Rosie how you think I run my mouth sometimes,” you explained.

“A lot,” he answered before turning around and ignoring you once again, focusing on the play-pretend.

“Rude,” you mumbled and sighed while Rosie chuckled.

“Love and marriage, eh?” He asked.

“Love and marriage,” you nodded and took one of the plates to put the sausage and potatoes on it from the grill. “We’re out of ketchup,” you pointed out. “I’ll go for it,” you told Rosie and he nodded his head as he took the plate from you to put it on the table.

You went inside to the kitchen but the phone rang as you were opening the fridge. It was your mother calling so you stayed on the line for about ten minutes, chatting about the upcoming weekend with the guests and asking her about the new recipes she had been trying recently. When you were finally done, you grabbed the ketchup bottle from the fridge and went back outside.

You froze at the sight of four adult men running around with two little girls giggling and laughing as they were trying to catch them. Bucky was standing on the garden chair that was barely stable on the grass and Rosie was wearing a cap made out of an old science magazine that had been laying on the garden table for a month now because Buck had been insisting that he was still reading it.

You focused mostly on him – your husband. His cheeks were flushed and golden hair was ruffled, reminding you of a little boy. It brought a smile to your face to see his eyes sparkling with joy. Ever since he was back from the war, his beautiful blue eyes were often filled with melancholy but in rare and pure moments they reminded you of the Buck you had met all those years ago. And nothing was bringing you more happiness than his joy.

“Gloria,” you put the ketchup bottle on the table and smiled at your daughter, “Nana called and she sent you a million kisses,” you told her.

“Oh!” Gloria smiled widely. “I’m sending her a million, zillion kisses back!” She told you. “Mummy, look at uncle Rose, he’s a sailor,” she pointed her finger at Rosie.

“Uncle Rose?” You laughed and he winked at you.

“And daddy’s uncle Croco,” Connie approached you shyly to tell you.

“Croco, mhm,” you smiled at her. “And that handsome fella?” You pointed at Bucky who was grinning like an idiot.

“Uncle Bubu, at your service, ma’am,” he saluted you and nearly fell off of the chair as everyone laughed at him.

“Guess what’s our daddy!” Gloria pulled on your skirt excitedly.

“I’ve no idea,” you shook your head.

“Just guess!”

“Uncle Bucket?” You tried as Gloria and Connie giggled and Buck shot you an annoyed glance.

“Uncle Bug,” Gloria revealed.

“Oh!” You laughed. “I’ll try to remember all of these,” you promised. “Now, it’s time to eat, uncles-funny-names,” you told the men and arranged all the plates on the table. Connie started helping you without being told to and you looked at your daughter. “Do you see that, Gloria, how Connie’s helping me?” You asked her but she only rolled her eyes with a sigh and sat on Gale’s lap.

“Connie is older than me! When I’ll be as old as her, I will do that, too!” She told you and you laughed because she apparently wasn’t realising that the age difference between them was only a year

“I will remember that,” you assured her.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[marciaillust]

I am in the process of succumbing to The Social Media FOBF (fear of being forgotten) so I'm gonna write a little update post (˶˃⤙˂˶)

With Ecdysis finally wrapped up I have officially entered the rest period. I'm not gonna lie to yall, I have never crashed emotionally so badly after a project, to point creativity seems like a chore. Some would even call it a burnout.

But I also know that I am currently in the most hectic part of the year, the prophesized summer of horrors I saw the writing on the wall for already in December '23, and this situation is not contributing to my journey of resting at all.

They are not real horrors and I am merely jesting but the situation is still somewhat emotionally taxing in a very normal and predictable way. Anyone who had to move back in with their family past the ripe age of 26 can probably relate, being in a position where you're expected to revert to your old role (of the eldest daughter, in my case) can be challenging, especially when those pants don't fit you anymore. But it is what it is, and it's temporary, too. (And it's not all bad, I love my family and my family love me lots.)

There's this flat I will be moving into, finally a place I plan to live in long term, unlike all these previous house shares and flats I've lived in 1 year max as a student or a young young adult. But that place requires a ground up renovation and to be furnished and if you ever had to spend your weekends driving around town looking for tiles you know that it's its own brand of taxing. Alongside all this, it's work as usual. And I paint for a living so. little rest in the creative department there, too.

All this to say I am just really tired. Really really tired. Really really really tired. It will pass, but currently my time is not my time - it belongs to everyone around me.

And it will pass, it will pass. And I'll rest and find the space to be creative. Though "burnt out" I think I'm slowly starting to brim with potential creative pursuits. But before I do anything the summer of horros must settle into the autumn of resting.

I am positively ITCHING to draw the Clockmaster. If you've spent this long reading (puts a hand on your shoulder) buddy there are already 5 new clockmaster pages in existence. Fresh of the press, 2024 made, still warm still sizzling. I drew them last month between days of packing Ecdysis orders. They will stay in the vault for now because as I said in previous TCM related posts I plan to release the story in big meaningful chunks now rather than page by page like I used to. So it will be some time before you see them. But brother (squeezes the hand that is still on your shoulder) (visibly tears up) it's so good to be feeding the brainworms again. Orion I love you Rosie I love you Garret I love you Catherine I love you and- and- and there is a new character joining us too! You haven't seem him yet, obviously, but I think you could easily guess who he is. I can't wait for all of you to meet him.

I'll see you on the other side friends!!!

[rubiehart]

went 2 the spa a few weeks ago and wanna write something for jj about it cuz he’s just my man

deciding to take jj on a little relaxing spa weekend, one of obx’s hidden gems, a hotel away from the hustle and bustle, rowdy teenagers and kegger party’s to celebrate valentine’s together. he wasn’t used to it, big fancy hotel, even bigger suite for the both of you, he’d never known such luxury ‘till he met you, kook princess, always ready to share the fortune you were born into without a second thought.

walkin’ into the fancy enterance hand in hand, his shoulders dropped a lil, in his infamous cargo shorts, and a ratty grey t shirt that makes his arms look delicious, but you refrain from kissing all up on his biceps and walk to the reception, polite smile on your face as you confirm your reservation, squeezing his hand when the receptionist gives jj a little sideways look.

noticing the expression of the man and raising your eyebrows at the audacity. “is there a problem?” you ask, smile dropped as the man stumbles over his words, jj looking at the ground with a little smile knowing his girl’s protecting him. “erm- no, of course not ma’am.” and hastily handing you two brochures and keycards for the both of you. jj thanking him and nodding with finality, tight lipped smile on the man’s face and his awkward energy evident as you turn on your heel and head towards the elevators, jj’s hand still in yours.

“just a lil’ kooky, huh?” jj mutters, quoting you earlier in the day when you were assuring him he wouldn’t totally stick out like a sore thumb, as you head into the elevator, hands in his pockets as you check what floor you’ll be staying on, pressing the golden plated button in with your freshly manicured nail and turning to him with a little smirk. “you’ll love it jayj. trust me.” you state, leaning up to cup his jaw and press a kiss to his cheek, making him nod and wrap an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

he didn’t think he’d ever indulge in the luxury of it but he couldn’t say the same when he was wrapped up in a robe on a sun lounger by the pool, his pretty girl by his side, hand resting on her thigh as his sunglasses sit perched on his head, pushing his hair back just right making you squirm a little each time he looked at you.

having a couples massage together, massage beds next to each other and he swears it’s the most relaxed he’s ever felt, rambling to you about it on the way back to the hotel room, using hand gestures to show you as you nodded along. “it was crazy.. it was like so fuckin’ eupha…” he trails off, thinking off the word. “euphoric?” you chime in as he does finger guns at you with a tut. “you just read my mind, pretty girl.” taking your hand in his and sticking his tongue out childishly when you look at him with rosy cheeks and a smile.

you’re fuckin’ just about anywhere, and multiple times a day, he’d have you ride him on the massive queen bed, watching your oiled up tits bounce in his face from whatever treatment you’d just got, he’d fuck you from the back in the shower, your soaked skin pushed up against the glass walls off the shower, panting as he fuckin’ ruined you like he promised he always would. he could get used to this if it meant seeing you sprawled out for him, wrapped in pretty sets for him at night, hanging off his arm in the day showing every other man there that they couldn’t touch what he got cuz you’re his girl and his only. he vows that he’s gonna be the one to spoil you like this one day, just like you do for him.

[speirslore]

domestic headcanons- rosie rosenthal

(a/n: requested! hope you enjoy <3 requests are open for bob, mota, and tp, as always)

lmk if you would like to be on my taglist: @ronsparky @bcon24 @blueberry-ovaries @1waveshortofashipwreck @beautifulbluejay

rosie is naturally nurturing so he's very openly and unabashedly the biggest romantic

is very excited to get married and to have some stability after the war and trials in germany

but your wedding is small, only with your close family and friends

lovesss house hunting with you when you're still in an apartment in the city

he's a great partner, very responsible and reassuring, his presence is naturally calming for you

problem-solver, if something's bothering you he wants to fix it immediately. it doesn't matter how big or small, if it's upsetting you, he wants to make it better

you trust him and his decision making 100%

have a great foundation to have a life together, you got through a literal war together and that definitely strengthens a relationship

rosie prides himself on how well he knows you

to be loved is to be known and that is very relevant here

he also feels so loved and special when you remember little details about him

loves being spontaneous

he's so dependable

a great gift giver, will retain you offhandedly mentioning you like this certain purse or lipstick and boom six months later it's wrapped up for your birthday

he loves cooking and is ridiculously good at it

you learn that rosie can really do anything he sets his mind to including cooking stupidly complicated recipes

anniversaries? forget about it, he out does himself every single year

rosie remembers every single one, not just when you first started dating or eventually your marriage anniversary. first kiss, first everything

rosie loves a romantic gesture, does not care about public embarrassment or judgement at all

twirling you and dipping you around the dance floor

would loveee to do a big public proposal

but that being said isn't huge into pda like making out in public is not his style

but holding hands, hand on the small of your back, or just physical proximity?

oh absolutely loves pet names, especially honey and darling

but totally melts when you call him robert! he doesn't know why it just gets him...

loves it when you read to him, will very timidly request it

some nights will read to you as well, you guys take turns picking out books

one of those couples that lowkey does everything together but not co-dependent or in a bad way?

he just genuinely enjoys spending time with you. you never run out of things to talk or laugh about

rosie is great at having a routine down, he's so busy but gets everything done

so supportive of you and your career, whatever you want that to be

he loves hosting a neighbor or block party at your house, again with never being embarrassed: will get on the grill and wear your floral apron with no shame

he lovesss writing letters, it's so romantic to him

you save all of your letters written back and forth to each other in a (now very big) box under your bed

will leave little notes around the house too like if he leaves in the morning before you wake up or if he's gone for the weekend on a business trip- he'll leave a bunch of notes around the house for you to find

the most attentive dad

has art work from your kids on the fridge and all over his office

music!!!!

music is a huge deal in the rosenthal household. a record is always playing. you have a piano in the living room and your children are all in music lessons, start learning an instrument from a young age

your son loves the piano and your daughter absolutely is amazing at the violin

speaking of concerts, rosie is present at every single one and is sooo proud

the one thing he hates about his job is it can be long hours as an attorney... he hates being away from his family

documents everything about your children, like buys the baby books and takes so many pictures it's so endearing

in awe of your baby like she's so precious and rosie can't get over her chubby cheeks or squealing laughter... she's his weakness

of course he reads to the kids too and tucks them in at night

you do have to force him to relax sometimes and take a breather, it can be very hard for him to let himself relax and chill

he's gotten better since the war but still... he can very easily throw himself into his work and overwork himself

so busy taking care of everyone else that he's not taking care of himself

you can always get him to take a break when you suggest a bath together

his kryptonite...

you love taking a bath with him, a bunch of bubbles, and laying against his chest... perfection

loves being hands on with the kids

will somehow teach himself how to build things like your daughter wants a dollhouse? of course rosie can do it... why couldn't he

loves cuddling and spooning

like laying on the couch together, legs entangled, his hand on your waist, just reading or working on different things in silence, just the physical touch and intimacy is so nice for him

loves watching the kids play outside, reading the newspaper or a book he's been meaning to read, your hands loosely interlocked, sitting on the chair next to him, yeah this is paradise!

always has his robe on in the morning like a cup of coffee, a newspaper, the robe, and slippers... he's a vision

always wants you to sit in his lap or the arm of the chair

will beg you to indulge in slow dancing in the kitchen in said robe to artie shaw

will stop by the market on the way home from work to buy a fresh bouqet of flowers routinely

your kids are in awe of your love for each other and his love for you!

[froggibus]

Colder Weather - Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Belphegor

Genre: fluff headcanons

Summary: how the boys act when it’s cold + snowing outside

CW: cold weather, snow, asmo forcing you to go outside (ew), lots of cuddling, pretty mid writing on my part

okok so no Lucifer or Satan for this one cause I just had no ideas :((( like I had a few but not nearly enough for complete hcs so sorry guys

also holy fuck it’s been a while since I wrote obey me hcs lmao so im a little rusty…sorry guys

also I promise I’ll shut up but it’s gonna be almost -50 celsius here this weekend (yay, Canada!) so I will be stuck inside if you guys have any obey me (or other fandoms) ideas!!

Mammon:

Mammon and to snow DO NOT mix

biggest baby in the entire Devildom when it gets cold

he has this super tacky fur coat that he insists is real rabbit fur (it’s faux—the big softy couldn’t bear real fur)

refuses to leave the house, even if he has to work

worse than that: he refuses to let you leave the house, even if you have things to do

“hey, human. where d’ya think you’re going? it’s cold out there. you’ll get sick, or worse, dead!”

invites you to his room cause he has this ‘super awesome heater’ (read: himself)

you end up lounging on the couch with him and watching movies with excruciatingly long car chases

you start shivering despite the sweater you’re wearing, and Mammon not so begrudgingly beckons you over to come sit under the blanket with him

honestly he forgets how to breathe because you’re so close and you smell nice and you’re relying on him for warmth

at some point it gets colder and you start shivering again

goes to grab another blanket but you stop him, looking up at him with those pleading eyes

“don’t go, mams. i’ll freeze without you.”

pretends to be humble about it but inside he is screaming

not sure how it happens but you end up in his lap??

he has both arms around you, cocooning you between him and the blanket

you both fall asleep on the couch, snow storm long forgotten

Leviathan:

locks himself in his room to spend the whole day watching anime

also sorry but this man’s room is a whole terrarium

he’s got his heater, his fan, his air purifier, his humidifier

his place is always the perfect temperature and the perfect place to take refuge in a blizzard

he pretends like he’s annoyed when you come into his room, dressed in warm clothes and fuzzy socks, a blanket draped over your shoulders

but really he doesn’t mind—he actually has to hide his rosy cheeks with you because he’s so flustered at the idea that you chose him

orders an insane amount of comfort food to eat during your anime marathon

like heaps and heaps of food that the two of you couldn’t possibly finish

offers you to share his blanket with him, wrapping it around the two of you to keep warm while you munch on food

somehow it turns into you leaning your head on his shoulder, eyelids getting heavy in the warmth of his room

Levi can’t even be annoyed that you’re missing episodes of the anime—you look so cute like this

Asmo:

HATES the cold, LOVES the snow 

it’s a weird dynamic…

dresses you up in the cutest snowsuit ever, and forces you to sit outside in the cold for over an hour taking pictures 

“asmo we’re gonna catch a cold”

“demons don’t get sick from the cold, don’t be silly”

you’re not a demon????

when he’s finally done with the pictures don’t expect any attention from him after

he still has to edit, caption and post them to Devilgram 

you sit under his comforter in the corner of his bed, shivering miserably and shooting glares at him from the corner of your eyes 

Finally he puts down his DDD and looks at you, his eyes sparkling when he sees just how cute and cold you look 

uses the cold as an excuse to get as close to you as possible, cuddling you tightly 

he’s so tempted to take a selfie of the two of you in bed together but he doesn’t want to ruin the moment 

probably insists on your laying between his legs with your head on his chest for ‘maximum warmth’ 

really he just want to feel you

you end up falling asleep in his room, and who is he to wake you? 

Beel:

honestly indifferent to the cold

he’s just built differently 

he’s not the biggest fan of it, but he’s not as much of a baby as some of his older brothers 

still, he doesn’t quite like the idea of you going out in the cold (at least, not without proper protection)

offers to get anything you need, but if you insist on going out, he’ll come with you 

and of course he bundles you up first 

has you dressed in one of his sweaters with one of his old winter jackets over top

you look tiny in his big clothes 

when you get home after he’ll make you stand in front of the heater to warm up while he disappears into the kitchen 

of course he’s going into the kitchen 

but you’re pleasantly surprised when he comes back with two steaming bowls of chicken noodle soup

you guys eat and watch a movie in the living room, Beel asking you every five minutes if you’re cold 

you take another one of his sweaters just to get him to stop bothering you about it  

insists on feeding you every hour and piling snacks on the coffee table 

“don’t give me that look. you need food to stay warm, y/n.”

Belphie:

hates blizzards because they interrupt his sleep 

he can usually sleep through anything—from sunny days to volcanic eruptions

but the cold??? no way

his bed gets cold and even his thickest, softest blankets don’t help 

but…maybe a certain warm human could help his sleep 

ends up crawling into bed with you in the middle of the night, hardly making a sound 

you only wake when you feel the bitter cold on your body slowly fading away, a new warmth pressed against you 

“go back to sleep—don’t move! im comfy....”

you’re not even phased by Belphie sneaking into bed with you at this point 

and the warmth is honestly really nice 

you cuddle back into him, shoving your back as tight against his chest as it will go 

he throws an arm over your waist, holding your hip flush against his 

definitely stays with you the whole night—and the next few after that 

with the excuse he’s just ‘keeping warm’, of course 

checks on you every time he wakes up in the night, groggily reaching out to make sure you’re still warm and okay

-

Obey Me! Masterlist

[thisismeracing]

Cherry | MS47

Pairing: Mick Schumacher x fem!reader (she/her)

Word count: 1.3k

Genre: smut (no plot, just face-sitting smut)

Warnings: not proofread; graphic description of sex; oral (fem receiving); face sitting; mentions of food; +18 (minors DNI);

Summary: Mick has an idea while lying in bed during a lazy weekend, and Yn is more than ready to oblige.

A/n: Every piece I write here it's a new experience, so your feedback, comments, and asks are more than welcome. *mwah* 🤍

Based on this request. I owned you guys a face-sitting smut after mentioning it on rosy cheeks, salty hair, and warm bodies, but not detailing it further. So here you go! ❤️‍🔥

see my masterlist | check here if you want to be on my new taglist

you can support my writing by liking and reblogging

It was a Saturday afternoon, the sun was bright, while the wind was cold, so the weather felt just perfect to enjoy a lazy day in bed. And that was exactly what Mick and Yn were doing, relishing the match of the ideal temperature with a day off work. 

Yn’s record player, a gift she got from Mick to celebrate their first anniversary, was rolling a red vinyl on its plate. Lana del Rey’s voice was over the room, along with the gushes of wind from the open window. Mick was lying beside her, bare chest rising and falling with each calm breath he took, messy blonde hair around his head like a halo, and ocean-blue eyes observing Yn. 

“We should go to Brazil next vacation, perfect weather, great food, nice people,” Yn states munching on her cherry, there’s another between her fingers, and she turns her head to face Mick just in time for him to watch her pop it inside her mouth. He watches her parted lips and how some of the moisture from the fruit paints them a clear red. 

She looked just about perfect, wearing nothing but one of his oversized shirts, makeup-free face, braids up in a bun, and big brown eyes curiously waiting for him. 

“I think that’s a great idea,” Mick voiced, eyes still glued on how Yn’s mouth was working the cherries. 

Oh, how sweet.

“You want some?” Yn asks, eyebrows jutting together in a sign of confusion.

You’re staring, Mick chided himself in silence. 

“It depends,” he smirks. Yn stops chewing, and now her whole body was directed towards his. It was her silent sign that she was waiting for his answer. “I want something, but not the cherries.” 

“Oh,” a small gasp passed between her lips, and Mick’s smile grew.

“I wanted to try something,” he signs with his hands, and it’s just a second before Yn is sitting on top of him, the bowl of cherries now forgotten somewhere between the mess of blankets. Mick’s hands find their way to Yn’s waist, exploring her delicious skin and then dipping under the shirt only to realize she’s, in fact, not wearing anything under it. 

“What is it?” 

“Huh?” Mick questions, dazed by the way her body feels on top of his, how pretty she looks. 

“What is it you wanted to try, babe.”  She explains.

His blue eyes search for hers as they get ready to read any sign of discomfort or doubt with his suggestion. Not that what he would suggest was too adventurous. He was used to giving her oral on a daily basis or whenever they were together and had sex, but they never tried the whole sitting thing. He did not really know what Yn would think about it, but if their conversations and how comfortable they were around each other were any indication, he thought that there was a chance for a positive answer. 

Still, Mick was a cautious guy. He was an attentive lover, and he wanted nothing more than to see his girlfriend satisfied and comfortable in all ways, sexually, physically, and mentally, so communicating everything was part of this process. 

“I wanted you to sit on my face,” he blurted without taking his eyes off her. 

He felt when Yn held her breath, eyes growing a tad bigger with surprise, but her body was still on top of his, “Yes!” she sputtered.

Mick chuckled at her reaction, and Yn followed him, face feeling hot just like the rest of her body. 

“Is this something you’ve thought about before?” he asks

“I-” she starts, eyes cast down on his naked chest, nails drawing patterns on his milky skin. “Mmh… You always do those neck exercises when training and I just happen to notice how strong your neck is in comparison to regular people… my mind went there on its own.” Yn confessed. 

Mick did not waste a second before holding her neck and smashing their mouths together in a messy kiss. The movement made Yn lean on top of him, their surface of contact now greater. They moaned and swallowed each other's noises. 

The cold wind moved the curtains blending the noise with Lana’s angelical voice, who was just starting to sing the first accords of “Cherry”.

A touch from your real love it's like heaven taking the place of something evil, and lettin' it burn off from the rush, it echoed through the room just when Mick’s lips found Yn’s sweet spot. He switched between kissing, licking, and eventually biting her neck. Her fingers gripping his golden hair would guide him whenever she felt it was too much, and the assault would leave any marks behind. 

“Will you sit on my face, love?” he asked, innocent face facing her, and dark blue eyes hungry for her final answer, which he knew would be positive, but Mick also knew his girlfriend, knew how much it turned her on when he voiced things. 

The dirtier, the better, she would joke. 

Yn gave him a nod before taking off her oversized shirt and throwing it somewhere on the bedroom floor. Mick’s hand guided one of hers to hold the headboard for support if needed. The other he placed on top of his head, her fingers instantly threading between his soft strands. And then, finally, she easily held her up and brought her down to sit right on his face.

The mere contact of his hot mouth against her wet pussy made Yn shiver. His nose was digging deliciously into her clit, and her head tumbled back when his tongue went out in a lazy lap on her cunt. She felt on her whole body when Mick moaned and opened his mouth wider, eyes closed as if to capture the feeling, tongue drawing figures on her pussy while one of his fingers found her chest and played with her nipples between his fingers.

His other hand found guidance on her waist, but he was just caressing her skin. The placement was more of an encouragement for her to choose the pace. 

And that she did.

Yn pulled his hair and purred when his tongue sank down inside her. She moved her hips just right for his nose to grind on her already puffy clit. Mick moaned again, and Yn pleaded sensually. She was full-on riding his face, and he could feel all his blood rushing to his hard cock. 

The scene was way too arousing, the noises Yn was making, the way her body was answering to his touches, her scent, and taste, the background sound blending with her moans and his groans.  His whole face was messily soaked.

When her body started to drift into a bliss state, Mick knew she was close to her climax, so he made space to insert two fingers while keeping his tongue exploring. He thrust the digits inside while taking turns between kissing the underside of her legs and licking her juices and clit. 

He was in awe watching as Yn sinfully chased her orgasm, taking the reigns and using his face, tongue, and fingers without apologies. 

She looked fantastic, especially when she moaned his name along with some incoherent dirty words and let him guide her to the edge. Her body shuddered and jolted before falling forward, painting his face with her cum. Mick observed as her chest rise and fell with ragged breaths, and her legs quivered, still sensitive. 

He had a satisfied smirk on his face when he moved her body to lie beside him on the bed. Yn still had her eyes closed in bliss when Mick licked his lips and gathered some of her juices in his mouth, moaning at her taste. 

“How did you like it?” he asked, and from the way his voice sounded, Yn knew he was smiling smugly. 

“I think we should do it every day.” She pants, still not over all the sensations. 

“I can try and make it happen,” Mick hummed and grinned before dipping his head to kiss her lips. His gentle yet sloppy kiss only seemed to fuel Yn’s desire, and they rolled in bed, ready to try a new position.

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @kenanlotus0 @mellowpizzapuppy @Dalsuwaha @mickslover @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @crimeshowjunkie @iloveyou3000morgan

[sehodreams]

I'M NOT OFFICIALLY SAYING I'LL WRITE FOR ZB1 BUT I TALKED ABOUT THIS WITH MY GF IN MY OTHER ACCOUNT AND THOUGHT THAT MAYBE THERE COULD BE A ZEROSE HERE THAT COULD LIKE THE CONCEPT TOO.

ask: being too big to touch urself on ur own so he has to help you and you can’t get off by urself anymore

TW and Tags: dubcon, fingering, squirt, drunk sex, a touch of exhibitionism, spying, skirt fetish(?), pervert!coworker!hanbin x chubby!reader

Coworker!Hanbin eyeing you for a long time because you, his chubby teammate, are always smiling around even when everyone is having a hard time keeping up with the workload.

He respects you a lot because you're smart, kind, and are always helping around when nobody else wants, reason why he can't understand why some people don't treat you better simply because of how you look.

You, realizing it, stop wearing your pretty outfits at work, choosing a more "modest" wardrobe so you don't hear those comments again, shocking him because he never realized how much he liked to see your plump ass and thick legs with them.

Without being able to contain himself, he jerks off to the memory of you wearing a particular skirt that he really likes to see you in. It's simple, black, and you wear it with black stockings too. He's seen that outfit a thousand times, yet he can't stop thinking it's the hottest thing ever just because you were the one wearing it.

He starts to get impatient because he needs to see you wearing that skirt again. Looking at your ass when you bend down to lift things is not enough. He misses the way your stockings became transparent in the highest part of your thighs, and you look great with those pants, but there's nothing like your skirts.

Hanbin does his best to catch a glimpse of something new that excites him exactly like your skirts did. He pays attention to your chest pushing the buttons of your blouses, and the curve of your back, with the hope of feeling the same emotion. Sadly, he can't get the same satisfaction at all (but don't get fooled, he gets hard with the mere sight of you, it's just that nothing makes him cum like your chubby legs and how they look enormous in skirts).

Not much later, thank God because he's having a harder time containing himself with each day that goes by, the office decides to make a two-day one-night trip to appease the people that have been complaining at work. He doesn't feel like spending his weekend with people from the office, and only decides to go after you've said that you'd go too, praying deep inside that you go wearing a skirt again.

You do, and, thanking the universe, he spends the whole first day stuck to your side, helping you with kitchen duty and even acting bold enough to walk with a hand in the small of your back when you two get lost from the group.

At night, when everyone is drunk and most of them are already in their rooms sleeping, you two stay in the open talking about work and drinking. You don't really notice how many shots he's pouring you, or how your drink has more alcohol than what a usual cocktail has, so you keep drinking, laughing at the stories Hanbin tells you, and answering his questions. It's all innocent, until there's a particular moment in which you're too fucking drunk to stop yourself from blabbering, and you don't know how the topic changed to it, but you reveal that you haven't been able to cum in a long time because your tummy and your pussy lips are too much of an obstacle for your hand, which can never do much after arriving exhausted because of the busy schedule at work.

The words that come out of your mouth make him the hardest he's ever been in weeks, thinking how he'd gladly give you a hand. Without noticing, one of his hands is already caressing your knee, murmuring a "poor girl" with those rosy cheeks and his usual smile nowhere to be found. You, not understanding much of what's happening, or the place you're at, only nod.

"I know!" you cry, and open your legs when his hand trails up until it arrives to the border of your skirt.

"I could help you, you know" he offers.

"Uhm?" It's the only thing that comes from your mouth, and he doesn't wait for an answer before his wrist is against the pouch of your tummy and his palm against your clothed pussy.

"i'll help you" he groans, pressing his hand harder, stealing a surprised whimper from you because of how good it felt.

It doesn't take long until he has you over the table, plastic cups on the grass and some spilt drinks making a mess under you, but that's the least of the things that he could care for when he has your fat pussy in front of him.

"Bin- fuck, please, please" you beg. You're delirious, only thinking about the pressure of your abdomen and his slender fingers being perfect for you.

Your skirt is all up, your stockings are ripped and your panties to the side. With one hand he pushes the amplitude of your tummy, using his thumb and index to maintain your heavy lips open so they don't interrupt his job while his other hand is doing its best fucking your gummy walls and then circling your puffy clit, taking turns with his attention, making you cry of how good he's touching you.

"i'll make you cum baby, don't worry, leave it to me" he says, feeling your juices dripping to his wrist with how messy you are. You had no idea you could get that wet, never having dripped to that point on your own. All he can notice is how your poor pussy has been so unattended it's practically begging for his cock, and he's dying to give it to you, but the way you're melting from only his fingers is making him dizzy, and with all the alcohol over his head, he doesn't stop until you're coming in front of his eyes, leaking down a heavy stream of your orgasm.

That alone is enough to make him shudder and spurt inside his underwear. He groans, feeling his cum smearing against his skin, and kisses you, tasting the alcohol in your system and the salty rest of your tears. He only talks when you've regained some of your consciousness, "wear skirts at work again, and I'll help you every day."

[jenniferjareauwife]

hi hi it’s me again😇

this is an oddly specific request of mine but i just really wanna be a cowgirl LMAO

what about something where jj brings r (girlfriend) to finally meet the team, and it turns out r is literally just a cowgirl from texas with a proper southern drawn and a twang in her voice n all. nobody expected that country girls would be jj’s type but when the team sees just how in love she is with r it all makes sense.

thank you sm babe, hope ur good, luv ya!🫶🏻

Southern

pairing: jennifer jareau x cowgirl fem reader

category: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 826

summary: you're jj's girlfriend from texas and you're meeting her team for the first time

a/n: hiiii i missed you 🫶🏼 i love you too and i hope you're doing ok! also...i kinda wanna write a part 2 with smut...let me know if you're up for that but i'm gonna assume it's a yes

"Are ya sure they'll like me?" I put my hands on my hips while JJ kissed my cheek.

"Of course they'll like you baby. You're amazing." I bit my lip and fixed my flannel a bit. The first three buttons were undone and the bottom of the shirt was tucked into my jean shorts. "Let's just go, ok?"

"Ok." I sighed as she grabbed my hand, pulling me into her friends apartment.

"Hey everyone! This is my girlfriend...y/n." JJ introduced me with an arm around my waist, keeping me close.

"Hi!" They all said almost at the same time.

"Hey y'all!" I turned to JJ with a rosy blush. "Now what do I do? This feels awkward." I leaned into her.

"That's because Derek is staring at your boobs."

"Don't get yourself all tore up about it. I know my assets." I pecked her lips, feeling her smiling into the kiss.

"Where are you from?" I pulled away from the kiss and looked towards a raven haired lady who had asked the question.

"Texas. Do y'all have any Coke?"

"Mhm. Right over here hon." A happy blonde lady led me over to the kitchen. I saw a bunch of soda cans sitting on the table so I picked up a Sprite. "I thought you wanted a Coke."

"Yeah. Coke. Soda is Coke where I'm from." I explained, taking a sip. "I've never been to the north."

"You haven't?" She crinkled her nose while smiling and I almost jumped when I felt a pair of arms snake around my waist but then relaxed when I realized it was JJ.

"If it wasn't for this girl I would still be down south." I took another sip of my soda, leaning back into my girl.

"She likes it up here." JJ kissed my cheek. "We're gonna go up to Boston next weekend."

"Yeah?" Penelope sat down on the couch and I soon realized everyone else had made their way into the room.

"Hey y/n. I'm Spence. It's nice to meet you." I shook hands with a tall lanky brunette. I had to tilt my head up to meet his eyes.

"I'm Derek. But people call me Morgan." I shook his hand and smiled. So this was the guy that was staring at my boobs, and he still was. I might as well put on a little show for him. I unbuttoned my shirt a bit further before looking back at JJ. She blushed before pulling me down onto a chair so I could sit on her lap.

"Jareau, I didn't know cowgirls were your kind of thing." Morgan smirked before sitting down next to Penelope. I felt a twang of insecurity in my chest but I pushed it away, wrapping my arms around JJ's shoulders and holding her close. I was big on PDA and when I found out JJ's love language was physical touch I used it as much as I could, wanting to make her feel loved.

"Well I've never met someone as special as her. So she's definitely my thing." She gently caressed my waist with her thumb.

"So what's it like down in Texas?" Morgan imitated my accent.

"There's a lot of rednecks and shotguns down there." I said back with my souther sass. JJ squeezed my waist, telling me to back down a bit but I couldn't help it. Being from the south and dealing with jackasses everyday had sort of become a part of my personality. I crossed my legs on her lap, staring Morgan down.

"How long have you two been together?" Emily asked.

"Nine months." JJ and I said at the same time.

"Nine months...you guys met on our case in Texas?" Emily smiled as she put the pieces together.

"I met her at a bar, she was kicking them out after a fight."

"They got in a big hissy fit over who the girl was looking at." I rolled my eyes. "Men can be so fragile." JJ kissed my jaw, making me blush. I wasn't one to blush but I was a sucker for jaw kisses.

"Let's get out of here." She whispered.

"What?"

"You've met them good enough, let's go." She dragged me outside and the door was barely closed before she had me pushed against the wall, kissing me passionately. "You were so hot back there."

"Hey ladies-" I heard an unfamiliar voice and froze. JJ backed off of my slowly but leaned in to cover my chest. "Sorry...I was just wondering if you wanted some cupcakes?" It was Penelope.

"Yeah Pen, thanks." JJ took the plate from her and waited for her to leave before making out with me again.

"Jayje, not in the hallway, sugar." I pushed her away a bit.

"You're gonna be the death of me." She groaned against my lips before kissing all over my face.

"Well you love me."

"You're right. I love you so much."

"I love you more."

[cetaitlaverite]

Could we please see Freddie being jealous while they are in America? She is jealous but at the same time she can’t blame the woman who flirted with her husband because he is so gorgeous.

i kind of freestyled a bit with this one. hope you don't mind!! freddie and rosie are just so much fun to write when they're jealous!!

under the cut because it's long (2870 words, i went off). also a bit suggestive near the end but nothing crazy. what can i say? these two can't keep their hands off each other. this takes place about a month after freddie arrives in new york.

Minton’s Playhouse was Rosie’s favourite jazz club and Freddie could see why. With its moody red lighting and live jazz band full of passionate, talented performers, lively clientele and plush booths, wide array of cocktails and hotspot location, there really was nothing about it not to like. Rosie had spoken often of wanting to bring Freddie here during the war and she was glad to finally experience it - even more so to see how happy it made Rosie to bring her here. She knew he’d been looking forward to it for a while.

Jazz music was something Freddie was coming to love through Rosie. It reminded her of him. During the war he’d played it during quiet evenings in the officers’ club, when most everyone else was out on a weekend pass, and when they’d spent time at her parents’ house in Oxford. He still treasured the Artie Shaw record she got him for Christmas in 1944.

So she settled back into the velvet of the booth beneath her, sipping on her strawberry daiquiri and trying to decide whether she liked it; cocktails were new to her and Rosie was always buying her different ones as they searched for her drink of choice. Secretly, Freddie thought she would always prefer wine, but she was enjoying the selection process too much to say so.

Rosie was grinning in the seat beside her. It was still a little bit strange to see him drinking anything other than beer or coca cola. Tonight he was drinking a vodka soda - apparently he’d acquired a taste for the liquor during his time with the Russians, which Freddie still couldn’t really bear to hear him speak about - and tapping his hands on the table in time with the music as he watched the band play. Freddie smiled as she watched him; she loved how much he loved music in spite of his lack of musical talent - maybe even because of it.

Scooting closer to him on the booth, Freddie set down her cocktail and lifted Rosie’s arm so she could settle into his side.

Without a second thought, Rosie wrapped his arm around her and kissed her head, resting his cheek there as he turned his eyes back on the band and the many dancers occupying the floor in front of them.

“Drink up,” Freddie said after a beat, watching the dancers, too. “Then we can dance.”

Promptly, Rosie took a big gulp of his drink.

Freddie laughed and lifted her glass to follow suit.

“How do you like the strawberry daiquiri?” Rosie asked, smiling as he watched her sip from the straw.

Freddie hummed and shrugged. “It’s okay. Tastes a bit like cough medicine.”

Rosie pulled a face.

Freddie laughed. “It’s close to the top of my list, maybe second place behind the French 75, but I’m still searching.”

“What’s next?” Rosie asked, pulling the drinks menu towards him on the table. He scanned it quickly before his eyes caught on an option. “How ‘bout a sidecar?”

“What’s that?”

“Cognac, triple sec, and lemon juice,” Rosie explained.

Freddie perked up. “Yes. That’s next.” She leaned back into his side again, sipping from her daiquiri. “After we dance,” she added.

“After we dance,” Rosie agreed.

They spoke idly about this and that as they polished off their drinks, revelling in the simplicity of being but one couple in a sea of many in a jazz club on a Saturday night. During the war they’d so rarely had this anonymity - they had been a major and a wing officer for so long that there had always been an expectation that they would act a certain way, would keep an eye on the people who worked under them, would still be somewhat on duty even after they’d clocked out for the day. Here, there was no duty to attend to, no one watching to see if they would put a foot wrong, no gaggle of German-speaking wireless operators or freshly deployed airmen to keep in line. Here, they were just Freddie and Rosie, still on their newlywed high even though it had been almost five months since their marriage, absolutely smitten with each other and soaking up the joy of their new life.

Freddie finished her drink first and shot Rosie a satisfied smile. They hadn’t formally been racing but Freddie liked to make competitions out of small things sometimes without telling Rosie, just so she could feel a sense of triumph when she won. It was a habit she’d adopted when she’d first moved into Rosie’s apartment and which he often complained about, because he was by nature also incredibly competitive, perhaps even more so than she was, but which he always laughed along with nonetheless.

Tonight, when Freddie declared, “I win!” and held up her empty glass as evidence, Rosie rolled his eyes jovially and took her face into one hand, squishing her cheeks together.

“You can’t win competitions I don’t know I’m competing in!” he told her, amusing himself by trying to see how pouty he could make her lips.

Freddie batted his hand away and insisted, “I told you to drink up!”

“You didn’t tell me we were racing!”

“Sounds like someone’s a sore loser to me,” Freddie drawled in reply.

Rosie stared at her for a moment before a slow smile started to spread across his lips. He shook his head at her. “You’re unbelievable. There’s no reason for you to withhold that information unless you thought you were gonna lose.”

“I don’t lose, Rosie,” Freddie informed him matter-of-factly. “I’m your princess so you’re not allowed to let me lose.”

Playfully, Rosie groaned. “Oh, right,” he conceded, tipping the rest of his drink down his throat and setting his glass down on the table with eyes dancing, “I forgot that’s what I signed up for when I married you.”

Freddie giggled. “No backing out now! Your mum likes me too much.”

Rosie grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Neither of them knew who started the kiss they got lost in, but they were lost in it for a while. By the time they pulled apart, flushed and breathless, grinning wildly at each other, Freddie could no longer postpone the inevitable. “I have to go to the bathroom but when I come back we’ll dance, yes?”

“Yes,” Rosie agreed, chuckling to himself. “You want me to wait outside?”

“No, I’ll be okay,” Freddie assured him. “Just wait for me here, please, darling.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Rosie watched Freddie with a wide smile as she crossed the club towards the door with the bright red, lit up sign above it reading Ladies. She turned back once on her way over and caught his eye, and he laughed as she blew him a kiss, pretending to catch it and press it to his cheek. And he continued to stare at the door she’d disappeared behind for a few moments after she was out of his sight, until he realised that that was strange and may be misconstrued and turned firmly back around in his seat.

There wasn’t much for him to do now that he had no drink to sip on, so Rosie picked the drinks menu back up and scanned the rest of the cocktails list for other options Freddie might like. By now they had discovered she generally liked the sweeter options instead of the refreshing ones - something fruity instead of minty tended to get a higher ranking on her list - so he made a mental note of the ones which contained the most fruit juices.

He was so deep in contemplation over the list he didn’t notice the woman making her way across the front of the booth towards another. She glanced his way idly as she went, then paused, stopped walking, leaned closer to try to get a better look at his face where it was ducked towards the menu, then stood up straighter to take advantage of his lack of attention. She fluffed her hair and adjusted her dress and swiped her thumb nail across the corners of her lips to ensure her lipstick wasn’t smudged. “Robbie?” she asked once she was ready to be looked at.

Rosie’s head shot up, his eyebrows furrowed. When he saw who had spoken, however, he broke out into a surprised smile. “Sammy?”

“Yes!” the woman exclaimed, skirting around the side of the booth to sit down beside him in Freddie’s vacated space. “Long time no see!”

“Yeah, it - it really has been,” Rosie agreed.

“Ain’t seen you here in a long time!” Samantha told him. “Ain’t seen you ‘round anywhere in a long time, come to think of it!”

Rosie shrugged, giving a short shake of his head. “Yeah, well, I - I actually just got back from Europe a couple weeks ago.”

Samantha’s eyes widened. “Europe!” she echoed with a gasp. “Where?”

“England,” Rosie replied. He laughed a little bit self-consciously. “My base was in East Anglia, so not the most exciting of places, but it was great. Great people.”

“Well, the great people over here have missed you,” Samantha replied easily. “How have you been? I hope the war wasn’t too hard on you.”

Rosie shrugged. “War was hard on everyone, wasn’t it? You’d be hard pressed to find someone left unscathed. But me, all of us over here, we’re the lucky ones, right? Some of the stories the people over in Europe tell -” He faltered, thinking back to the old man he met in Poland on the way back to England. He quickly pushed that thought away. “I’m good, anyway. I’ve been good. Glad to be home.”

“Glad to have you home,” Samantha replied.

“How have you been, anyway?” Rosie went on. He tried to be subtle as he shot a glance over his shoulder at the door to the ladies’ room but no one was emerging from it.

Samantha launched into a long story of her experiences during the war: how she’d had a marine boyfriend at one point but he’d run off with a nurse he met while on leave in Australia, how she’d considered trying to become a nurse at one point herself but wasn’t sure she wanted to do two years’ worth of training, how she’d thought about going to see Rosie’s mother to find out whether he might want a sweetheart back home to write to - she’d figured he was away for the war, she just had no idea where.

“I just kept thinking while the war was on and no one had seen you for a while -” she was saying, “- I kept thinking about our time together. Y’know, back in the good old days, when we used to go to the movies and spend hours in diners talking about what we saw. When we’d sneak off to my dad’s car to fool around and then go back in to sit at the dinner table like nothing happened. Wasn’t it great?”

Rosie’s polite smile was strained. “Yeah,” he hedged. “Yeah, but hey, listen, that was a long time ago. A lot’s changed since then and -”

“I’m back!” Freddie declared as she rounded the corner of the booth. “Rosie, are you ready to - oh.” 

Rosie’s back was ramrod straight. He wasn’t sure why he felt like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Fred,” he greeted. “Hi, honey.”

“Hi, darling,” Freddie replied. Her smile was confused as she turned to the woman in her seat. “Hello. I’m not sure we’ve met.”

“Samantha,” the woman introduced herself. There was an expression of mild distaste on her face. “Who’re you?”

“This is Freddie,” Rosie said. “My wife.”

Freddie watched with raised eyebrows as Samantha turned to Rosie and frowned. “Your wife?”

“What’s going on here?”

“Nothing’s going on here,” Rosie assured her. “Sammy’s an old friend and we were just catching up.”

“Old friend,” Samantha echoed with a scoff. “Yeah, sure, Robbie, we were friends.”

“What does that mean?” Freddie asked. Her eyes flicked between the two of them, her arms folded across her chest. 

“It means I was his girlfriend, sweetie,” Samantha replied sharply. “And we were just reminiscing on all the good times we shared together. Y’know, in the backs of movie theatres, in my dad’s old car, in -”

“That’s enough,” Rosie cut across her. “Fred, it wasn’t like that, honey.”

Freddie’s eyes were wide as she stared back at him from across the table, lost as she wondered what she was supposed to do with herself. “Rosie, I’m not sure I know what’s going on.”

“Why’s she calling you Rosie?” Samantha demanded from beside him, though her eyes were on Freddie.

“That’s what everyone called me during the war - just - it doesn’t matter,” Rosie stumbled to reply. “Fred, honey, nothing’s going on.”

Samantha’s eyes were narrowed on Freddie, her lips curled in a smirk as she laid a hand on Rosie’s bicep and added, “Not yet.”

Freddie stared back at her blankly for a moment, hardly able to believe what she was seeing, before she tilted her chin up and pushed her shoulders back, mustering up the authority she’d had during the war when an entire wing of wireless ops had followed her every order. “Can you get your hands off my husband, please?” Her voice was level - sweet, even, and casual - but there was an undercurrent of steel Freddie knew the other woman had heard because her eyes hardened.

Samantha’s hand curled around Rosie’s arm. Surely, her nails must have been digging in. “Your husband was my boyfriend first,” she said, lifting one perfectly plucked eyebrow in challenge.

“Was your boyfriend,” Freddie repeated, her gaze hard. “Is my husband. It really doesn’t matter to me when you were together or for how long because it ended, it’s over, he came to England and met me, we fell in love, he proposed, we got married, now we live in his apartment together with our dog. So whatever competition you’ve decided is going on here, I hate to be the one to tell you but you’ve lost. Quite severely.” She planted her hands on the table and leaned forward over it to be at eye level with the other woman. Her voice dropped an octave. “So hands off my husband, don’t make me tell you again.”

Samantha stared back at her, her mouth falling open, an incredulous smile tugging at its edges. Finally, she turned to Rosie with raised eyebrows. “Robbie,” she complained.

Rosie was looking at Freddie, grinning. “What?” It took him a moment, but eventually he tore his eyes away to meet Samantha’s. “You heard her, didn’t you?”

“You aren’t gonna do anything?”

“I’m gonna dance with my wife,” Rosie replied. “Have a nice night, Sam.” With that, Rosie wrenched his arm out of her grip and rose to his feet, wrapping a protective arm around Freddie’s waist as they turned and headed to the dance floor.

“What a cow,” Freddie said when they were pressed together, swaying to the music. “She really thought she was going to steal you from me.”

Rosie only laughed. “Nothing and no one is ever gonna steal me from you, Fred, I promise, sweetheart.”

Freddie shot a glance over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed, her lips twisted in a residual frown. “Thinking we’re in competition,” she mumbled to herself as she turned back around. Wherever Samantha now was, it wasn’t anywhere near where they’d left her. “You’re mine, Robert Rosenthal,” Freddie declared, locking her arms around Rosie’s neck and pushing up on her toes to kiss him soundly on the lips. “Only mine. I don’t care how many rabid ex-girlfriends you have crawling around the city, you’re mine, you hear me?”

“I hear you, baby,” Rosie assured her, smiling wide. He shook his head once, as though to clear a fog. “You’re so beautiful, Fred. I love you so bad. Can we go home?”

Freddie quirked an eyebrow. “Why would we go home? We’ve only had two drinks.”

Rosie ducked his head until his lips were brushing her ear. His hands on the small of her back slid down dangerously low. “I think you know why,” he whispered.

Freddie smirked, turning her head until their lips brushed when she next spoke. “Seeing me jealous get you hot under the collar, Major?”

“You have no idea.”

Freddie grinned. “One more dance and you can have your way with me, honey.” She spotted Samantha watching them from over Rosie’s shoulder, attempting to be surreptitious as she lingered in the crowd by the bar. Freddie smiled sweetly at her as they locked eyes, then brushed a soft kiss against Rosie’s lips and whispered, “First, why don’t you be a good boy and make sure your bitch of an ex-girlfriend knows whose name you’ll be calling tonight?”

The kiss he gave her in reply was deep and long and messy, not entirely appropriate for a public setting and yet they were far from the only couple forgetting themselves in the club tonight. By the time they stumbled out of the door together, hand in hand and giggly, Samantha had no more ideas about any sort of competition for Rosie’s heart. It was clear to her now that that was a feud she’d long since lost.

[sh4wty18]

'tis the damn season.

pairing: ex!jake x ex!reader

summary: running into your ex at a bar on christmas night wasn't part of your holiday plans, but seeing him reignites old feelings. or maybe they'd never truly ever faded to begin with. "we could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend."

cw: angst angst angst!!, closed-door sexual content, language, alcohol

word count: 2.2k + edited

a/n: merry christmas guys! this is my gift to you all <3 i've had this brewing in my mind for months and i finally had the motivation to write it. i really hope you all like it as much as i do. i genuinely think this might be one of my fav fics i've ever written

The sight of the bar is a sad one, with only the loneliest souls perched on its stools at 9pm on Christmas. The sweet burn of whiskey kisses your throat as you swallow a sip of your old fashioned. It’s nothing you’re not used to. The drink is familiar, just like the bar. You’d made a tradition with yourself: to go to the bar alone after Christmas dinner every year. There was only so much of your family you could take before you needed an escape. Kansas was never your home. New York was. There was only one thing that could’ve kept you here, and once he left, you did too. 

You swirl the ice in your glass, eyeing the cocktail, debating whether you want another sip yet, or if you could ride out the aftertaste of your previous one for a few more minutes. Jake had always said you liked ‘old man drinks’. You had argued that your palette was just more advanced than his, but now, staring down at the amber liquid in the lowball glass, you realized he was right. You smirk, he always did know you better than you knew yourself. You take another sip, allowing the liquor to burn your taste buds for a few seconds before swallowing.

Then you hear it. A laugh you would have recognized anywhere. His laugh. Your eyes flick upwards and there he is. Across the bar. Making small talk with the bartender. Presumably ordering something sweet and fruity. You look away before he can notice you, but not before taking in his appearance. He looks different than he did the last time you saw him. His hair is shaggier, dyed black. He has more tattoos now, you can barely make out an open space on either of his arms. He has lip piercings now. They look good, really good. You watch his adam's apple bob up and down as he continues to speak to the bartender, laughing politely at something he said. No matter how much his aesthetic changes, his smile is always the same. Big and toothy and squinty and genuine. The same smile you fell for so many years ago. 

You glance up again and he isn’t on the other side of the bar anymore. A hand brushes against your arm and when you turn, there he is. Giving you a different smile than the one he gave the bartender. It was his more intimate smile. Smaller and rosy-cheeked, and reserved only for you. It was the smile you were still learning how to live without. 

He’s holding an old fashioned, and when he takes a sip, you can see him physically holding back from making a face. “Can I sit?” he asks.

You stare at him, awestruck. You don’t know why. You grew up together. This was his hometown as much as it was yours. If there were two things the holidays reminded you of, they were your hometown and Jake. “Uh… yeah. Of course.” 

He sits and puts his glass down on the cocktail napkin you’ve neglected to use. He glances over at you, then back at his drink. 

“Funny seeing you here,” Jake says. His voice is low and raspy. It makes your stomach drop. “Alone at a bar on Christmas night.” 

“You’re here too,” you quip, chuckling. 

“Point taken.”

“So why are you here?” you ask, sipping your drink. 

He looks ahead. “Sometimes… family is shitty.” He turns to make eye contact with you, knowing you’d understand that sentiment better than anyone. “You?”

“Family is shitty.” You raise your glass to his, clinking them softly.

Jake inhales, “I haven’t seen you since–”

“Last year?” you ask.

“Yeah.” He looks around the bar, his eyes flicking between the liquor bottles lining shelves, as if he’s searching for his next words. “You look beautiful.” 

You feel your cheeks get hot. “Thanks.”

He places a gentle hand on your thigh. Not in a weird way. In an honest way. “I’m not just saying that.”

“I know,” you respond. You smile at him. “I know you.” 

The corners of his mouth creep upwards, and you watch a pink hue grow across his cheeks. He clears his throat, “How’s New York?”

“Good… good. I really feel like I found my home there, you know? I’m making good money, working a job I actually like, and I live with my best friends. But of course, then I come home and it’s just…” you trail off. He wraps his hand around your wrist, tracing your skin lightly with his thumb in the same way he always used to do when he knew you were struggling. He gives you a knowing look, and you smile at him halfheartedly. “How’s LA?” you ask.

“Great! I found an awesome group of people out there and I’m living with my best friends too. Working my dream job…” He breaks eye contact with you, turning to stare straight ahead. A look of embarrassment washes across his face and he clears his throat again. “Obviously you know that. Um. But yeah. I come home and… shit happens. I get pissed. But it’s family.” 

You look down at your drink, his words burning in your ears. Obviously you know that. Yeah, you did. You’d broken up six years ago so that he could move out to LA and pursue his dream. You wanted him to succeed, of course you did. You wanted nothing but the best for him. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell to watch him go, not even trying to fight for your relationship. Neither of you had been the same since then, whether you wanted to admit it or not.

He looks at you again, but you’re still hesitant to tear your eyes away from your glass. “Do you ever wonder if things would be different? If I’d–”

“Yes.” You meet his gaze now, and he raises his eyebrows in shock at your quick reply. “All the time.” 

“I was young and stupid and I wanted to get to LA with no attachments to this place. I-I never thought–”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, Jake. I understand.” You smile at him, a true smile. Because you were being honest. Because you knew why he did it. And because truthfully, it was probably better that you’d broken up then instead of having you go with him and risk breaking up years later. Then it would’ve all been for nothing. Now you’d just have to wonder what could’ve been. 

You check your phone, it was a little past 10 now. “Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask hopefully. 

A grin makes its way onto his face, and the familiar squint of his eyes makes your heart race. “Yeah.” 

He flags down the bartender and pays for both of your drinks, despite your arguments. “I can afford it, baby, trust me,” he laughs. The nickname rolls off his tongue so easily, it's almost like he’s yours again. He speaks up in a softer tone, “Plus…I want to.” 

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, before you let out a giggle. “An old fashioned?” you point towards his glass, “Really? I thought it was an ‘old man’ drink.” 

He scratches the back of his neck and laughs at himself. “I, um, when I saw you across the bar, I thought maybe you’d think I looked cooler if I was drinking something more… grown up. And I knew these were your favorite.” 

Your heart flutters at the gesture, he really wanted to be cool for you. Shouldn’t it be the other way around? “I already think you’re cool, Jake. You could do nothing and I’d still think you’re cool.” 

He blushes again, turning away from you. You stand and walk toward the exit, knowing he’d follow you out. Just like he did last year, and the year before. 

The crisp winter air smacks your face when you get outside. You bundled up, but were still freezing. Jake stands next to you, cigarette in hand. “Cold?” he asks rhetorically before wrapping an arm around your shoulders to warm you up. 

“Can I get a hit of that?” you ask. He smiles and raises the cig to your lips for you, watching as you inhale slowly, allowing the smoke to warm your body. You exhale away from him. He throws the dead cig on the ground and stomps it out with his foot. You turn to face him, and he smiles down at you. He brushes a stray lock of hair behind your ear. He rests his palm flat against your cheek, and you lean into his touch. “You always were the romantic. Even when you pretended not to be. Tough guy.” You turn your head half an inch and you’re breathing into his palm. You kiss it.

“Nuh uh,” he counters, childishly. But he’s giving you that smile again, the one reserved for you. And then he’s pulling your face closer to his, until your mouths are only separated by breath. 

“We can’t keep doing this,” you whisper.

“Doing what?” he asks, before pressing his lips to yours. His lips are as soft as you remember, and the kiss is just as desperate and aching as it always is. Your hands tangle in his jet-black hair, and he pulls you in by your waist. 

—

He pulls you into his childhood bedroom, giddy shushes and giggles coming from your mouths as he closes and locks the door. You immediately pull your shirt off, and he follows your lead, and then you’re both stripped down to your underwear. 

He stares at your body in the moonlight seeping in from his blinds. “Shit, you’re gorgeous” he whispers, taking you in his arms. He kisses all over your cheeks and neck and shoulders, walking you both backwards until you feel the bed press against the backs of your thighs. He pulls away, just to let you get comfortable on his bed. 

He climbs on top of you, as he’d done countless times before, and you gaze up at him. “Hi,” he says, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“Hi,” you giggle, like it was the first time. 

He slowly fingers the waistband of your underwear, eyeing you, waiting for your approval. You nod, desperate to have your bodies connected from the inside out. Intertwined so wholly you couldn’t tell where his body ended and yours began. He pulls your underwear off, throwing them across the room into the pile of clothes you’ve left by the door. Then he pulls off his boxers and there’s nothing left to separate you. Just skin on skin. You both let out sighs of relief as he sinks into you, all the tension in your bodies replaced with pure need. 

When he was inside of you, you forgot why you’d left Kansas at all. But when you were with each other, clamoring to each other’s bare skin, when he kissed your neck and whispered how you’re the only woman he’s ever loved, you remembered why you’d fallen in love with him in the first place. Why you were in love with him even after you’d broken up. Why you’re still in love with him now. 

An hour later and you’re sweaty and exhausted and just want to be in each other’s presence. You hold onto him, your bodies a tangle of limbs under the sheet, and he traces hearts into your cheeks with his index fingers. “Please…” he begs. “Let me be yours for the weekend.” 

How could you ever say no to that? To him? You nod, “Okay.” 

He grins and kisses you. “You’re still my perfect girl, you know that?” he asks.

You jokingly shove his shoulder and laugh, “Oh, shut up.” 

He only pulls your body even closer to his, until you’re practically laying on top of him. He kisses the top of your head, “I’m serious, baby.” he mumbles, before no doubt nodding off to sleep. 

The next several days are a whirlwind of movies, take-out Chinese food, sex, cuddling, and catching up with each other. 

This is how it always happened. Spending days on end together, pretending like nothing ever happened. Laughing during the day and whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears at night. Telling each other the things you were too afraid to say when you were together, always late at night when you assumed the other was asleep. Like that a part of you always wished you’d gone with him. Or that you were certain you’d never love someone else the way you loved him. Love him.

But all good things must come to an end. For the third year in a row, you knew that. You still forced yourself out of his bed on the 30th at the crack of dawn to make your flight back to New York for New Years Eve. Maybe you’d see him again next year, or maybe not. You weren’t sure you even wanted to. 

You look over at him sleeping peacefully in his bed, watching the rise and fall of his perfectly sculpted chest, knowing that inside of him was a real beating heart. Knowing that he was alive and so were you and the fact that you got to exist on Earth at the same time was enough of a gift to last a lifetime. You kiss his forehead. “I’ll always love you.” 

Then you turn your back and walk out. You don’t dare turn around. If you did, you’d just break your own heart more.

When you get to the airport, a text from Jake pops up on your screen:

i’ll always love you too

i'm so proud of this one and i hope you guys like it :) tags for my beloved moots @liseytopia, @quinnynation, & @audr3yyyyy <3

divider from @/saradika-graphics. pics from pinterest.

[12timetraveler]

Something In The Orange

Chapter 12

Summary:

The Matthews family take you and Charles to their cabin in Big Valley for a winter vacation.

Notes:

Y'all I am SO SORRY for how long this chapter has taken.

I hit some major burnout over the last few months. So much so that I've actually been put on short-term disability leave from work. I'm starting to feel a bit better and I've been able to do more writing, but I'm still pretty worn out if I'm honest.

As always, this chapter was written entirely on my phone, so any weird typos, autocorrect words, etc you can blame on my phone haha.

Anyway I hope I haven't lost all of you who've been here since the beginning.

As always below is a little preview. Read the whole chapter and the entire work (so far) on AO3

Reminder: You must be logged in to an AO3 account to read my works as I've had to lock them down to protect from AI Scraping.

~~~~~~

You couldn't help but smile as you examined the three pins on your Christmas stocking. Three Christmas seasons with the Matthews family, each marked with a little pin. The silver horse-drawn sleigh from the first year. Then a little mouse sleeping next to a piece of cheese with a bow from the second year. And this year was a cowgirl boot and hat dusted in snow.

Christmas was a month ago, of course. Hosea hadn't had time to take down the stockings. Or all the lights. Or the menorah. But you were actually kind of glad about that. It was nice to see the cheerful sight, even in late January.

Going back to campus after the winter holidays this year had been awful. You tried your best to be a good student, to get excited for your classes and get right back into studying. But you found your thoughts drifting more and more to your beloved. Wondering what he was doing. Missing his sweet voice, his herbal scent, his long cock. It had been torture.

Monday was a bank holiday, meaning the high schools and the universities had a three-day weekend. So Friday afternoon you and Arthur drove up to Firwood Rise to pick up Hosea, John, and the horses to go on a little weekend trip. The plan was to go out to a cabin Hosea and Dutch shared out in Big Valley, West Elizabeth.

Aside from a couple ranches, it was still mostly wild, and even in the winter the trail rides were unforgettable. Or so Arthur said. This was your first expedition with the Matthews men out to this cabin. You'd never been to Big Valley, but it was legendary for the beautiful, natural scenery.

Charles was going to meet you at the cabin early Saturday morning, since he had a late class on Friday. His old beat-up truck was a beast when it came to snowy mountain roads, so you weren't worried. And then the lot of you would spend the weekend trail riding, maybe doing some snow sports, just having a good time.

So that's how you found yourself standing in the Matthews living room, smiling at the stockings while the others loaded up the truck. You could hear John and Arthur yelling out in the yard as John backed the truck up to the horse trailer to hitch up. Occasionally Hosea's voice would cut in if the two got too close to an argument as John insisted he could do it while Arthur was adamant he was doing it wrong. Typical of the two brothers.

You heard the truck turn off, and the driver door open. “Told you I had it covered,” John's voice echoed just loud enough that you could hear from inside. You couldn't make out Arthur's retort, but based on the way John began to snap back, only to be cut off by Hosea’s sharp scolding, you could only imagine it was more brotherly banter.

The door opened a moment later. “Those boys,” Hosea tutted, stepping into the house, looking a little irritated, cheeks rosy from the cold. His face softened when he spotted you, and he shut the door behind him, glancing out the window to make sure John and Arthur weren't near before stepping toward you and pulling you into his arms.

“Hey,” you murmured, tilting your head up expectantly.

“Hi,” he whispered before granting your request for a kiss. “I've missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You nuzzled against his chest, the fabric of his jacket cold from the winter chill, but the warmth of him underneath still seeping through.

“The boys are loading up the horses and then we'll be good to go.” Hosea hummed.

“Okay,” you said, stepping back. “Before we go, I need your help with something.”

“Oh?” He asked. You jerked your head towards the stairs, gesturing for him to follow you. Once upstairs you led him to the bathroom, pulling him in and locking the door behind you.

“Dove, it'll only take a few minutes for the boys to get the horses loaded.” Hosea chuckled, immediately clocking what your intentions were.

“Five horses. It'll take them at least ten minutes right? Probably more.” You mumbled, guiding him backwards until he was pinned between you and the sink.

“Something like that,” he sighed as your hands settled on his waist. “The horses are all pretty good at loading.”

“That's enough time for what I have planned.”

[sketchy-rosewitch]

A Million Paper Hearts: Benny Miller x Frankie Morales

A/N: I have not written in FOREVER we are back. Had to write these two I love these too so much fuck.

Warnings: Tom (i fucking hate this bitch, if this dude has no more haters I’m dead), drug addiction mention and allusion. Blood.

The sun shines bright as Benny cruises down the street in his new car. It was the weekend and the guys wanted to get together at Will’s house since Santiago was back in town. Benny just needed to pick up Frankie.

Usually Frankie was the designated driver, but Benny wanted to show off his new ride to him so he insisted.

The sports car’s loud rumbling comes to a stop as the dirty blond man parks in his friend’s driveway.

Frankie is already outside. His arms crossed, he’s smirking. Already taking a look a Benny’s newest purchase he steps forward a little with a lean. God Benny was a sucker for Frankie’s smirk. Benny gets out

“You like her?” The taller man asks, patting the hood of the car as he leans against it.

Frankie’s arms uncross and he walks around the car.

“Yeah, you weren’t kidding about getting a Ferrari now were you?” Frankie laughs and Benny’s heart jumps slightly.

He keeps his cool. “Not at all.” A small chuckle comes from Benny’s throat. Frankie opens the sports car’s door and slides in and Benny follows after.

“How’s the shop doing?” Benny glances over at Frankie for a second before turning his eyes back on the road.

“It’s been doing good. Can finally keep it open on the weekends. Just hired a manager so I have a day off now.” The brunet explains. Benny nods indicating he was listening to the other man.

Not that Benny ever wasn’t when he is around him.

“Surprised business hasn’t gone under.” Frankie comments deprecatingly. He lets out a snort and Benny frowns.

“You’re doing really good Fish, come on now. I mean we got all of that money and you decided to open up a business. That’s better than what most winners do with their lottery money.” Benny explains reaching over and smacking his friend’s chest is a reassuring way. He notices a smile creeping up on Frankie’s face. His crows feet becoming more prominent by the second.

-

Benny parks behind Will’s truck and gets out, heading towards his front door. He pulls out the spare key Will gave him and unlocks it heading inside. Fransico follows behind him.

Happy squeals are heard from the top of the stairs and Benny looks up, a huge smile coming across his face. As his niece and nephew barrel towards him.

“Uncle Benny!” Rose yells. Tyler, can’t quite speak yet but he still makes enough noise for it to bring a large grin to Benny’s face. They hug him tightly.

“How’re you?” Benny asks, giving both of them kisses on the cheeks.

“Good! Mama’s taking us to Gigi’s house tonight!” Rose explains, Benny nods and rubs her head.

“Awh, gonna miss my two favorites tonight.” Benny pouts.

“It’s okay! Im gonna miss you too!”

Benny lets out a laugh and stands up with both of the kids in his arms. “Hi Frankie!” Rose waves.

“Haven’t seen you in awhile chica. Gotten so big.” Frankie smiles making Rose giggle. Benny heads for the kitchen, Frankie following behind him. Will and his wife, Maya are there, packing up the bag for their overnight stay.

“Going to mom’s?” Benny asks. Maya looks up in shock then smiles.

“Aye güero! You scared me. Yes we are. We have stuff to plan for miss Rosie’s birthday.” The dark haired woman makes her way around the counter and kisses Benny’s cheek, then Frankie’s.

“What! Rosie you had a birthday last year! Can’t have another one!” Benny jokes, smiling at the little girl.

“Yeah I can! I gotta turn five!” She giggles, holding her hand to her Uncle’s face.

“Five?!” You’re gonna be as old as me soon!” The blond man tickles by blowing raspberries on her cheek making Rose giggle.

“We better get going now before we’re late for dinner. Say bye to Uncle Benny and Frankie!” Maya takes her son from Benny. The one year old waving shyly at both of them. Rose gives Benny a fat kiss before he sets the girl down. She follows her mom into the garage.

“I’m gonna help her. Beers are in the fridge.” Will says, following after his daughter.

Benny makes his way towards the fridge and grabs a beer for him and Frankie.

“She’s very smart for her age.” Frankie comments, opening his drink. Benny nods in agreement.

“She’s got smart as hell parents to help with it. Tony is gonna end up the same, I know it. He’s just shy. Mom says he gets it from Will.” Benny scrunches his nose. “Ironic part is Will does all that public speaking. I can’t do that for shit. But put me in front of a bunch of hillbillies and I sure as hell will knock some teeth out of some people.”

Fransico takes a sip of his beer and leans against the counter. “How long are you gonna keep doing the MMA stuff you think?” He asks, genuinely curious.

Benny doesn’t actually know the answer. He’s always done stuff on a whim. Moves on from things randomly. The MMA was no different from him being honorably discharged.

“Til I get bored or find something better to do.” He shrugs.

-

It isn’t long until Santiago comes and then Tom. The man was hesitant to even come in the first place, which made Benny roll his eyes. Ever since they had taken the money and made it back to the States Tom hadn’t wanted to really do anything with the guys unless it was about him. Cause god was he just so brave during that trip. As if all the shit that they got into wasn’t caused by him. Including almost getting shot in the head.

Everyone sat on the back porch. The evening air making everything calm as everyone caught up with each other between beer sips and dinner which was happily provided by Santiago.

Only problem is that Benny isn’t as calm and relaxed as he was putting out there. He kept pretending to loosen back up but in reality the bottle in his mind kept filling of thoughts of anger.

It was Tom’s fault. The moment he walked through Will’s door he kept making small jabs and comments. It was mostly Frankie and Benny he kept throwing the comments at and it pissed Benny off more than anything.

Benny could tell Frankie wasn’t enjoying them either, but he’d laugh it off and the conversation would go on.

Out of the corner of his eye, Benny could see Fish’s leg bouncing next to him, the beer in his hand was swishing lightly too.

Benny chewed the inside of his lip then took a sip of his beer, turning back into the conversation.

“So how’s that shop doing, Fish?” Tom asks, his head tilts slightly and even that movement had Benny getting more fired up. Every movement he made just felt condescending. God he wanted to beat the shit out of this man. He could and would too if Will allowed it, or even Frankie or Santiago. Sucks being the youngest and always looking for approval from people older than you.

Frankie’s leg stops bouncing when he answers Tom.

“It’s doing good. A lot better than I thought it would.” He laughs and Benny knows it’s at himself and he hates it. The way he wants to tell him again and again how good he’s doing and how good he’s been doing for the past year with getting his life back on track.

“Surprised you even bought a shop with that money. Thought you would’ve just gotten a lifetime supply of coke or I guess for you it’d be more or less 20 years.” Tom snickers and Ben’s lip twitches.

“You’re a real fucking piece of shit Tom.”

The words slip out before Benny can even think.

“I’m sorry?” Tom raises a brow.

“I said-“ Benny gets up, the outdoor chair drags against the deck. “You’re a real-“

Frankie’s eyes go big and he stands quickly trying to grab Benny.

“Fucking, PIECE. OF. SHIT!” Benny slips from Frankie’s strong hold and lunges across the glass table, knocking down Tom’s chair. His hands move fast and he starts beating down on Tom. His fists going down one after the other, over and over again.

Ben doesn’t know how long he was on Tom, only now he was being pulled off by both Frankie and Will, really the only two who could ever hold him back. Santiago drags a bloody Tom out of his chair, they stand and make their way off the porch. Tom bitching and yelling loudly.

“Take him inside Frankie. I’ll go talk to Tom.” Will furrows his brows glancing between his younger brother and his bloody friend.

Frankie sighs and yanks Benny like a toddler into the house. Benny’s breathing is still heavy and his adrenaline is high. He hasn’t once felt this way, not even during his fights.

“What the hell were you thinking Benjamin?”

“I-“

“Trick question. You weren’t.” Frankie interrupts the younger man. He goes under the kitchen counter to grab the first aid kit Maya had put there originally for the kids.

Ben looks at his knuckles, not even realizing they were bloody with not only Tom’s blood, but his too.

“You cannot do this to yourself. Come on now.” Frankie sighs, rubbing the alcohol wipe on Benny’s knuckles. It stings the burns making the taller man hiss.

“Do what?” He asks, acting oblivious to what Frankie meant.

“Beat up people because they make a stupid comment.”

“He didn’t just make a stupid comment. He made multiple and most of them were towards you. Shit pissed me off.” The blond huffs making Frankie shake his head.

“You don’t need to defend me.”

“It was bothering you.”

“No it wasn’t”

“It was, I saw how anxious you were.”

“Who cares?”

“I do!”

The older man looks away from the younger one. He shuts the first aid kit and puts it back where it was.

The kitchen is quiet and it’s Benny’s turn to grab and pull on someone. So in a swift motion he does, making Frankie look up at him. Brown eyes meet blue ones as the two men stare at each other.

“I’d do anything to defend you. I love you. I’ve loved you since I don’t even know when!” A slight frown comes across Ben’s lip and he furrows his brows. Frankie stays quiet for a moment.

“I love you too. I don’t want to see you get hurt Benjamin.”

Benny lets put a chuckle but shuts his mouth when he notices Frankie’s glare. “Fish, I wasn’t gonna get hurt.”

“You could’ve he was caught off guard. I promise, it doesn’t just go for him either. You don’t need to defend me. Not like this.” Fransisco looks down and rubs across Ben’s knuckles lightly. He then lifts both of his hands and kisses them.

Benny blushes and squeezes Frankie’s hands in his.

The brunet looks up and leans in and Benny does the same.

The kiss makes Benny feel as though his chest will burst open into a million paper hearts. When they let go Benny goes in for another one, this time grabbing Frankie’s face, touching his patchy beard and rubbing it with his thumb.

The back door begins sliding open and Frankie pulls back from the taller man. They both turn around and Will steps inside.

“Uh, told Tom to just go home. Maybe stop by the ER first though. Do you guys want another beer? Pope is relaxing again.” Will explains, he didn’t seem to notice the two kissing which made Benny relieved. The two look at each other reading each other fully then look back at Will.

“Yeah we’ll have another beer.” Benny answers. Will nods then sighs. Making his way across the dining room and to the garage. He stops for a second.

“Benny, control yourself a bit more please. You’re lucky Maya wasn’t home.” Will groans, Benny lets out a laugh.

“Tom’s lucky Maya wasn’t home. Her words hurt more than my fists ever will.”

Frankie snorts and Will rolls his eyes and disappears into the garage.

“Do you think he noticed?” Frankie asks.

Benny looks at where Will was and back at Frankie and scrunches his face.

“Nah, if he did though he probably just wants to save that conversation for another day and honestly. I do too.”

Benny kisses Frankie’s cheek and heads towards the back door. “Come on now. Can finally relax for the night.” Benny gestures and the two make their way outside.

[ran-orimoto]

[ There are certain decisions I will make after a while and, why not, even after more than a year since I will please my friends’ suggestions and requests only when the wind blows in the right direction. So yeah, here am I, still determined not to post MTTCI here, but giving a chance to an impromptu three-chaptered story I wrote before an exam, whose subject, ironically and because of a joke of Fate, has become the main topic of my bachelor thesis. So…Maybe I can consider it as a way to celebrate or maybe it’s just my brain admitting I kinda want to write a sequel to this because Miranda and Junpei are precious creatures of lightning scampering in my head 24/7. Let’s colour my weekend with this throwback, shall we?

Ah, Junpei and Izumi are in their early thirties (34 and 33). My bbies have grown up *sobs*. ]

| Three short acts of a Tempest|

•Chapter 1: The stillness before the Tempest•

Clouds painted with the pink of an early dawn gently fell on a tiny frame. They slowly shifted and went up and down, as if the sky had suddenly turned into the expanse of the sea and the kindest breeze was cradling the creature on peaceful waves. The oscillating movement went up and down, the lullaby of the sloshing joining the wind’s chant and changing the colour of the rosy water.

Green.

A penatrating green. Such a peculiar shade that was intense enough to make the world decelerate at once, sweetening everything going round and round with it, even the most powerful thunder that could disrupt the quiet of that picture.

“But you are still awake…No, no, sleep, principessina mia , sleep.”

Poetic images eventually got the consistency of reality: the sky and its tufts of clouds assumed the form of padded blankets warming a wicker crib decorated with ribbons; the swinging of the sea transformed itself in the caring caresses of big hands; the song of the wind melted in the humming sounds coming from a woman who was sitting in front of a mirror and was brushing her blonde hair.

And that green…That green was given a round shape, so little yet so able to hold any ray of light illuminating that bedroom. It was so easy for him to plunge in those orbs and enter an oneric universe.

Miranda.

“ The problem is that you shouldn’t be the one putting her to bed,” lzumi told Junpei with a smirk, after having approached him. “Whenever she sees you, she wants to be picked up by you.”

Junpei blinked at her with one of his funny expressions printed on his face.

“Do you think so?” He asked, his lips still protruted in a pleasant wonder.

“I don’t think. I can see it,” She chuckled while pointing at the chubby arms the baby would occasionally lift in his direction, especially whenever his chocolate met her shining mint.

She tried placing her silhouette in front of Junpei’s, action that resulted easy because of their almost matching heights. However, he unfortunately made her efforts vain by getting closer to the cradle again and widely grinning at its excitable host, who proceeded to happily agitate her limbs at his sight.

“Eh eh, you want to make your mother jelous, eh?” He joked, ignoring Izumi’s glare until she started patting her foot on the floor, her arms crossed in a playful annoyance.

Only in that way he understood she wanted him to let her deal with the family’s newest addition by her own, whereas he was supposed to slip away from the mother and daughter duo, -which, for Izumi’s joy, was what he immediately did, as obedient as ever-.

He brought himself to sit on an armchair in the corner of the bedroom, near to a large window extending from a side to the other of the wall and giving an elegant touch to that area thanks to cream-white curtains.

His tired spheres focused on Izumi for a while; on the tender words she was whispering to their second child, as impalpable as bursts of air blowing from an unknown dimension. Afterwards, though, he felt like turning to the view behind him, as if he had no right to assist to the interactions of a couple of angels,-because he couldn’t help describing his most precious treasures like that-, and he gasped at a panorama that looked darker than usual.

“It’s going to rain soon, isn’t it?” He said out of blue, feeling a familiar and bizarre tension beginning building up in every inch of his lumbering body.

“I think so,” Izumi’s voice cautiously crawled to him. “That’s what I heard from the forecasts. This is why the temperatures have dropped so drastically. As a precaution, I asked the guys to help me bring the chairs and tables inside.”

“It’s not fair, Cara. You could have asked me!” He straightened his back, abruptly parting from the comfort of the backrest. “You do know I could lift two tables at the same time, geez.”

Izumi didn’t reply him immediately. With a light pat on the tissue of the blankets, she firstly announced the success of her motherly task…Despite how loud Junpei could get without even realizing. She bended to give a kiss on the dormant blonde doll ’s forehead, then another one, -even more intangible than the previous one but still full of love-, on those puffy cheeks endearing her at their only touch.

Only after having tucked in their daughter for a last time, she gave attention to her pouting husband and passed her nimble fingers through his spiky strands.

“I know you can, but I wanted you to rest properly after that long flight,” She explained him, referring to the night before and reminding him of how exhausted he had looked when he finally arrived home.

Having returned from a special invitation at New York’s Metropolitan Theatre, he was also still suffering from a nagging jet lag he had been attempting to neglect for the whole day, no matter how much his temples were pulsing or his muscles were aching. Regrettably, his tenor job didn’t allow him to spend as much time as he wanted with his family, so he would have never allowed a silly jet lag to mess with his plans, especially now that they weren’t only three anymore.

“It was impossible not to have the most beautiful dreams after that delicious dinner you prepared me!” He laughed heartily, his chest bouncing at each giggle until he was forced to suffocate a yawn. “Oh c’mon, I slept until lunch time this morning!”

“It’s not like you have something to do. The kids are sleeping soundly now.”

Izumi jumped off his lap and reached out to offer him her hand: nobody ever believed him whenever he said his wife could pull him on his feet. Izumi had certainly developed a certain amount of strength during the years and she was so glad it had happened, since she had stood being the only one receiving help in certain occasions for so long. He needed and deserved to be taken care of too. He couldn’t and wasn’t supposed to be the only one doing that in her regards.

That’s why she couldn’t repress a satisfied snigger when he abandoned himself on their bed, throwing himself on the mattress without a complaint because she had happened to be right again.

She was always right: he was so tired he could have slept for the whole night and following morning like the baby next to her side of the bed.

Still, this time she might have been wrong.

The night to come was going to be longer than she expected for both.

• Chapter 2: The Tempest •

A burst. One of those seeming to be piercing the sky and making it break in thousand of pieces.

Despite that sense of restlessness filling his veins, Junpei had managed to close his eyes to plunge in another universe making him smile in bliss during his slumber.

Actually, he had got used to that feeling whenever a thunderstorm was about to arrive. He had stopped taking his pills for that anxiety provoked by that kind of weather, but it was still there, arising from his heart which would begin racing more and more at the tempest advancing. Unlike when he was on his early twenties, though, now he was a happily-married man and he was aware it would be enough for him to just roll closer to Izumi to feel much calmer.

Furthermore, there also was their new baby they had called after a character from Shakespeare’s “Tempest”, a theatre piece he had come to love after having starred in it for four times. Before the neonate was born, Izumi had never been that convinced about a similar idea, but now she couldn’t help repeating that name over and over again, even under the water jet of the shower.

Miranda. Their Miranda.

Having given her that name often felt like a step further he had decided to take while holding Izumi’s hand. It felt like if he was trying accepting tempests were a part of his spirit, of Izumi’s , of their family’s. The bond they had shared with Blitzmon and Fairymon as kids had created a perpetual connection between him and thunders, Izumi and winds, the life they had built together and the turmoils generated by the sky. There was no way to escape what they were, but they could only embrace it, just like their friends had done with their own elements. It was so hard for him, though: even now that he had reached his thirties and his maturity, he was aware his struggles had never mutated, unfortunately for him.

Actually, that night that burst roared in the firmament, the impression of hundred dragons landing on Venice with their massive weight. Glasses trembled like if they were prey of an earthquake, alarms started ringing in the whole neighbourhood, some shouts could be heard in the distance…But Junpei, who had been the first one waking up with a start even before that disaster unfolded, could only care about a scream seeming to be opening a hole in the stillness of the bedroom.

He hadn’t only heard it.

He had perceived it and he could have sworn that was what had really happened.

At that despaired wail, he didn’t hesitate before darting out of the bed and rush to the crib. In that blackness, it was so hard for him not to trip on the carpet and hurt his elbow against a wood feet, but he eventually managed to reach Miranda, surprisingly beating Izumi to it.

“ Che succede ?! What is happening?” She sat up, more than confused to be touching Junpei’s hip with a knee. She tried turning her abatjour on, but her hand remained in the air when she saw the glow of the emergency light.

“She’s got scared by that thunder,” He nervously clarified trying his best not to bite his lips. “That was so powerful I’m sure it has literally destroyed some car out there.”

Izumi hanged onto his thick arm, her palm descending and tracing the solid contours until she reached that protective hug’s upset host, her frantically-moving short legs, the hiccups of her round belly, her butterfly-shaped pacifier left dangling on it.

“Now it’s gone away, Miranda-Chan,” She massaged the baby’s tummy, but she was soon betrayed by another bolt, less scary than the first one she hadn’t fully heard yet still terrorizing to the little girl.

Meanwhile, Junpei could only rock her back and forth in silence, his breath growing heavier at each small fist or kick thrown at his chest.

“I’m going picking Kou up,” Izumi promptly announced. “I’m sure he’s so frightened too. I’ll take him here.”

Thus, her hasty steps left him and Miranda alone, in that room that would take life with a spectral white at every lightning hurled against the ground. It was in those brief, ghostly intervals that he could frown at the poor baby’s reaction: during the first time he spotted her eyes forcefully shut; during the second one he was able to give a glance at her trembling wince of terror; during the third one he could clearly see the lucid tears cascading on those features he loved so much.

It was precisely because he couldn’t stand the image of those green stones throbbing of water, that he hugged her impulsively when the nth thunder prepared its spotlight moment. Holding her against his broad shoulder and feeling the shirt of his pajama wetting, he waited for the next rumble to threaten the room, the house, Venice, the whole world to collapse.

“It’s o-okay,” He reassured her in that nightmare, his hand pressing on her head and the Sun shining in her hair; his eyes closing and showing him flashes of a stout kid crouched on a freezing floor, covering his ears and yelling at the nothingness. “It’s-It’s really okay, Miranda-Chan. ”

Now that he thought about it, that’s what had always been there in the far past, whenever his fear struck back : the nothingness .

“La mia Mimì.”

The emptiness left behind his parents’ long absences. The void of each room of such a big house like his family’s was. He could recall so clearly how areas without people animating them would reverberate with such scary noises during grey days.

“La mia dolce Mimì.”

Who knew if his fear of thunders had never gone away because nobody had ever been by his side in his worst moments, protecting that child he used to be from a shattering sky.

“La mia dolcissima Mimì.”

Instead, he…He…

…

Another explosion got near to destroying the dome of those stars shimmering out there. The entire chapel risked to fall and cover the whole Venice with a thud.

Yet, Miranda’s crying didn’t increase. Indeed, he felt the baby stirring and making his neck itch with one of her strands. The pacifier’s chain jingled as she moved her head from a side to the other, probably blinking too in the process.

He would have welcomed her in the hollow of his arms again, if she hadn’t attached herself to his shoulder, a content sigh pushing her chin onto the soft surface. Judging from the way her grip was growing weaker and weaker, he understood she was miracolously falling asleep in his presence.

After some seconds, Izumi returned into the room bringing along a stream of warm light.

“ Torcia !”

In truth, she hadn’t been the one aiming it at Junpei. The one who was playing with that torch was a two-year-old sturdy kid sporting a nest of dark blonde hair on his head. His grinning, rotund face and his brown irises got visible only when he made the object spin in his direction, the reason why Junpei and Izumi had bought a model that wasn’t dangerous for kids’ eyes.

“Here are we,” Izumi chuckled, looking at the toddler she was carrying. “My baby Kouricino is not afraid of thunders.”

“No no!”

She lowered the boy on the floor, so he could run to his father. For Izumi’s delight, when she accidentally lied against the wall, right in that spot where the light switch was, their bedroom found back its colours.

Her joy dimmed rapidly, though, since her attention was soon drawn by the silence of the environment.

“Has she…?”

Junpei winked at her while he let Kou fiddle with his wristwatch he had forgot to remove before going to bed.

“Yes, she has. Somehow.”

Even if he knew Izumi wanted to be the one placing Miranda back into her crib, he took the initiative under Kou’s curious gaze. It was only when the baby dove back in her serene clouds, that he acknowledged he was shaking like a leaf.

“What is it?”

“Hm, nothing that important.”

• Chapter 3: What remains after a Tempest •

{Mirandus, miranda, mirandum }

He had read somewhere Miranda derived from some latin word meaning worthy of admiration, admirable, beautiful, and even if he really didn’t know anything about that ancient language, -and didn’t really intend to ever study it-, he couldn’t deny a kernel of truth was present in those dead voices from centuries and centuries before.

The proof had been before his eyes for four months and it was so evident to him, whether green seabeds greeted him from inside the display of a phone or they innocently crawled to him until only few inches parted him from them.

Their Miranda was their second miracle, another wedge of Sun he loved staring at without fearing his eyes would begin burning. If something was supposed to make him burst into flames sooner or later, it would probably be his love for her.

He had understood that from the first time he had seen her and had held her, showing more experience while dealing with the neonate than when Kou was born. Before that creature looking so ethereal to his perception, a being of light and fire, his eyes had covered themselves with lucid and clear glass reflecting the kaleidoscope of thousand colourful skies.

And a thought had passed through his mind, as fleeting as a thunder disappearing in a dust of ash after having released its powers on earth.

…

…

“ Maybe ,” He had muttered, slowly waking up from a dream about heavens and angels.

Izumi had found the strength to stretch her neck, trying to sit up despite the exhaustion she was still experiencing on her energies due to the labour.

“ Maybe?”

“Maybe you’re right,” He had told her slowly, looking so dazed as if he had just returned from a trip onto the Moon. Actually, with that long coat he had refused, -or forgot-, to put off, with those misty glasses slipping on the bridge of his nose and being about to fall off it, with that hair standing on end as if he had got electrocuted, he could have given the impression of an accidental traveller; one who had just been in the most unrealistic place of the universe. “ Miranda isn’t the right name for her.”

“Ah no?” She had answered him, not managing to hide a note of disappointment.

“No, because she’s blonde like you and Kou, she’s already smiling, she…She has got the beauty of uncountable sunny days in her.”

He would have never forgot the silence that had followed his words, Izumi’s perplexity and the resounding laughter that had arisen from it.

“ Junpei, come back onto Earth and start speaking like a normal person. Thank you.” She had attempted to tease him but had smiled when he couldn’t keep a wince from warping his puffy cheeks. “ And what would you call her? Let’s hear ”.

…

…

Yes, their Miranda was a breathtaking spectacle. There was no way his spheres could have ever stopped contemplating her frame without someone forcing him to do that. She was a miniature Izumi and she was meant to endear him from day to night.

Yet, that early morning he wasn’t lying by Miranda’s side. Izumi had placed her between them and next to Kou after having woken up to drink a glass of water, but in their bed no one else but Izumi was encircling the baby’s body with an arm.

He was…On the balcony, looking down at the isolated road of their quiet neighbourhood and inhaling in the fresh air of that dawn, in its fresh dew, in that familiar smell of rain.

La quiete dopo la tempesta .

The quiet after the tempest.

So they say, at least, but the truth was that his agitation had never melted below the first rays of the rising Sun, and it wasn’t just because the sky was still painted with dark aquarelles.

The chords of his heart were still being pulled like the strings of a violin in an endless crescendo, intensifying whenever his pupils slid onto his hands; onto those palms shaking and spasming at the mere surfacing of certain memories in his mind.

Gritting his teeth, he clenched them in fists, but that steel never stopped trembling for his utter frustration.

“Hey.”

Izumi’s sudden greeting startled him, but his tense shoulders predictably sagged under her touch.

“ Buongiorno ,” He cracked a warm smile on which she would have liked to plant a kiss.

Still, pensive, he turned to the sill and remembered about that ritual of theirs only when he felt the chilly material under his fingers. He turned again and ignoring Izumi’s doubtful expression, he complied to her wish.

When their lips parted, Izumi put a index on hers, as if she could feel that nervousness of his kiss again and could analyze it with more attention.

“Sorry, I was too focused on searching for that car,” He justified himself with hesitation, approaching the railing once more. “You know, that car from yesterday.”

“That car from yesterday,” She repeated, knowing well there had never been a car destroyed by a thunder. There were not so many cars in Venice and the zone they were living in was one where they weren’t even allowed. It had just been a part of one of his exaggerated scenarios, those he liked coming up with now and then to add spice to conversations with others.

Nevertheless, she wasn’t going to underline he was lying. Indeed, she intended to ride his excuse to her advantage, in order to, hopefully, figure out what was going on with his weird behaviour. In reality, she had a vague idea about what was upsetting him so much, but she needed to hear what was troubling him from his own words.

She observed him pretending to be really searching for something like some silly pirate and got closer to him.

“Who knows if they have already removed it from the road,” He mumbled in the middle of those theatrical movements taking his body from left to right…To that right where she was waiting for him with a smug smirk.

Ma che cavolo, Junpei, She couldn’t keep herself from shouting internally, pretty exasperated yet also affectionate in front of those puzzled irises. His eyes were also conveying a little amount of fear, that kind of fear you can read on kids being spotted making trouble. We have been husband and wife for years and you still prefer bottling up your concerns to sharing them with me!

“Are you searching for that car from yesterday, then?”

“Uh yes, yes, that one”.

“That car…You said it had been hit by a thunder?”

She felt slightly guilty about having cut to the chase so quickly, but his frown was so eloquent to her. She was right again. And yet, it wasn’t still enough. At all.

“Can you tell me what’s the matter?” To her ears, she had sounded a bit stern in that question of hers, so peremptory, but she wanted to help him and she was aware it was the only way to get a satisfying result.

Actually, Junpei tried opening up after having looked down at his socks.

“The problem is…”

“Yes?”

“The problem is that I can’t be the kind of parent I want to be,” His eyebrows curved downwards as Izumi sighed, her hands resting on her hips until she managed to find a proper answer. “And I’m…I’m not speaking about that again. No. We have already discussed about it and I have understood I can be a good father and husband even if I can’t be with you all as much as I would like to be. It’s just that…It’s just that…”

He bit his tongue instinctively, stopping for some seconds to absorb that warmth coming from Izumi’s presence. He might still be the type of person not loving talking about his most inner trouble, but he had got used to feeling more comfortable about doing that, especially when she was next to him, giving him confidence. His features ceased their severity at her caring eyes, his sweetness and awkwardness finally showing up.

“It’s just that when Miranda was crying because of the thunderstorm, I thought about when I was a child and I was scared. Back then, I had to cope with my fright all alone. My parents didn’t even know I was scared of thunders. Instead…”

“Instead, you know she was yesterday, even if she’s just a baby and it’s normal that she cries because of loud noises. Don’t forget that.”

“No,” He shook his head with firmness, diverting his orbs from her reassuring ones. The view of the sky darknening like it had happened the day before helped him remember the way he was so certain he hadn’t just heard the little girl crying. “Don’t ask me why, but I’m sure she is afraid of them. Maybe it’s because I know what it feels like to be afraid of thunders. But, whatever, what I want to say is that I told myself I want to protect her from frightening tempests whenever I’m here.”

“But…?” She pressed gently, concealing the tenderness that heart-to-heart was instilling in her body. She knew where he was going to land but, again, she was aware that river had to be freed by him.

Thus, that was what it happened. Water finally flew down its bed.

“But I stupidly remembered I’m still afraid of thunders as if I had ever forgot, in the first place. I was…Shaking along with her.”

And she hugged him all of a sudden, an embrace he didn’t exchange immediately due to the fair confusion.

“You managed to calm her last night and she even fell asleep despite anything. Junpei, you’re really an idiot, worrying about this stuff…You’re really the most wonderful idiot out there.” She laughed in his ears with a row of whispers, too taken aback by such fluttering emotions the man was still able to make her go through.

“Oh, don’t I know?” He huffed playfully, the tresses of her golden bob flying along with those puffs. “I proposed to call our daughter Miranda because of Shakespeare and now we have discovered she’s terrorized of thunderstorms.”

“I will never regret having called her Miranda,” Izumi pulled away from his chest. She pronounced that statement with restored strictness, one that made him chuckle, though.

“Oh, but I do.”

Freed from his thick arms, now it was her turn to lose herself in the immensity of that dark sea the sky was that morning. It was so similar to the expanse that had roared the exact day they had got married, or during the night Koujirou was born or, again, during the one Miranda was too: powerful winds exploding in a defeaning riot of colours, defeaning thunders scratching the sky.

Blitzmon and Fairymon’s ways to congratulate with them during those occasions.

…

…

“And what would you call her? Let’s hear.”

“I don’t know…Give me some minutes to think and I’ll tell you. I’ll think about a name you can like.”

“Because, you’re right, I don’t like Miranda as a name,” She had started giggling not only because he was wearing the most bizarre expression as he concentrated in his task.

“There’s Violetta. You love colours, indeed, you love lillac. Kou likes it as well and I do too. I wouldn’t have liked your idea of painting our kitchen of that shade, otherwise…I mean, it’s a colour and who doesn’t like colours? I might not be able to see the colours of the wind like you two do, but…So, what do you think, eh? Violetta is also the main character of “La Traviata”.

Still holding and engulfing the neonate with an arm, he had reached out with the other and had let their hands intersect. That had been the moment she had felt his blood pumping against her skin with an unimaginable speed and, most of all, an incredible strength. She had stared at the blonde tuft he had placed near to his chest, with one of her ears so close to his heart she had wondered how it had been possible she hadn’t begun crying, scared of the power residing in his soul.

But ,then, she had seen it and she had boggled: a lightning projecting its white glow on the window behind them, undisturbed and noticed by many, except by the man and the baby. Junpei had just seemed to have grown tense for an instant but his arm had never stopped hugging their daughter, protective and soft at the same time; his eyes had never ceased plunging in that picture of miracles.

…

…

“It does bug me, though,” Junpei took her back onto Earth with his upset voice. “I might have managed to calm her down, like you have said, but how did I do that?”

“Why do you think I know?” She had marched in his direction but didn’t look at him.

“No…I don’t really think you know, but maybe I did do something you might know about. Some movement you perform when they cry or-“

“Or you’re just magical,” She shrugged, giving him a wink before opening the door of the balcony to return inside.

“What? Oh c’mon. I’m serious. I want to give my best for our princess.”

“Well? What is the news here? Have you forgot you wanted to be a magician when we were kids? Those tissues you always carry in your pockets must be having some effects after ages,” She joked and, like that, she disappeared in their bedroom with another wave of laughters.

But not before having demanded a proper kiss.