#Happy belated birthday babe! <3

[uchihaxitachi]

Birthday present: Kazekage Gaara x Sas mod. I’m going to refer to her as Rose here. This is not an x reader fic just a birthday present consisting of my word vomit, kay thanks! @sasukeanon

It was overwhelmingly obvious, the way the young Kazekage of Sonohagakure was too interested in Konoha’s matters. Lately, he hasn’t been trying to hide it as well. Some weird, twisted sense of confidence in his over all stoic self. The reason is simple, the Uchiha Jonin of the Leaf, Rose. 🌹

It was fate that led Gaara to her, a mission gone wrong in the Hidden Sand from the Anbu Black Ops had caused a futile issue to turn into something of a civil war. It was to be expected that the Anbu Black Ops are stationed in every Hidden Village. Despite the now— friendly relations between the two villages, the Leaf isn’t going to let their guard down. As one of the key members of the Black Ops who reported to Itachi, (the fifth Hokage of Konoha (let me cook)), he had his utmost trust on his comrade. So, when matters became dire and her identity was leaked through a traitor directly to one of the chief members of The Hidden Sand’s council, Itachi paid no mind in trying to rescue her soon.

He didn’t have to, however— as a proof that The Hidden Sand bore no ill will with the Leaf village, Rose’s meet up was secured with the Kazekage himself. He wanted to meet this stoic, carefree, precise, cut-throat and loyal kunoichi who had taken down more than a handful of trained Hidden Sand shinobis in no time. Sharingan blazing with rage, and loyalty to the Hokage and the Leaf.

The prison bars creaked open as Rose furrowed her brows, the sound was no less than a migraine inducing catastrophe. “You are summoned.” One of the lady guards ordered, trying to had her intimidation from her behind a loud, nonchalant voice. “Mhm? By who? The Kazekage?” Sixth sense had been her forte for a while now. You get that sort of a thing once you are constantly exposed to danger.

“Yes, and you better show respect to him.” Rose scoffed after hearing those words from the guard. She will show respect if he deserves. No more, no less. He could stab her life out if he wants to and she wouldn’t bow down, the Uchiha were a prideful clan and that pride was instilled in her ever since she was young.

Hands tied behind her back in secure, metal hand cuffs, she was brought in front of Gaara. The moment her brown eyes met his, two things happened. Gaara was nullified of all emotions and she was enamored with how young and gorgeous the Kazekage sama looked. “Now, I didn’t ask her to be brought as a Prisoner did I?” Gaara reminded the guards who, reluctantly untied her.

“Are you untying me because you think of me as harmless?” A direct question with a commendable audacity was thrown towards the Kazekage, who was also— pleasantly taken aback. “No, I would be foolish to consider an Uchiha in the Anbu, directly under Itachi to be— harmless. I just trust your grit and your judgement. Maybe your faith in your Hokage & want to restore ours as well.” Yeah— right, after the attack during the Chunin examination, it was expected to expect, the Hidden Sand being notoriously upset about their Late Kazekage’s death under one of the Legendary Leaf’s Sannin, Orochimaru.

“Then you must know that I will not admit to anything you accuse me of, which might hamper The Hidden Leaf’s image.” Rose was brutal, and honest. Diplomacy doesn’t work on those who have the guts to slay enemies. Right now, she might just be standing in front of him & she was prepared.

“I don’t want you to.” Gaara smiled, asking the guards to leave to make her feel safer. He had no ill-intent whatsoever. Rose activated her sharingan, curious to witness and look around for any traps. “You must not consider me harmless either, Little one.” Gaara reminded her after the observation. “I will not lay down petty traps for someone.” His hands crossed defensively.

“Then why am I being treated normally?”

“As I said, we want to—”

“Really? You really want to prove to Itachi san that you are no threat and you can be trusted as the Kazekage but can you say so about the normal folks here? Can you say so about the council?” Rose challenged Gaara again, despite knowing she was in no position to. However, if Gaara really wanted the relations between the Leaf and the Sand to be amicable, then he must know the truth.

“I understand, it takes time for something like this to wash off. People still have a hard time accepting me as the Kazekage. As you know, I am a Jinchuriki of the one-tailed Shukaku.” He bared his identity in whole, catching her off guard. “Sometimes, I feel as if they are conspiring against me too. That does not matter though— because all I need, is the same to be done for any Hidden Sand Shinobi, if they are caught in your village.”

“I want them to be treated as if they are in a safe place. Somewhere under the shadow of Itachi, unharmed and allowed to fit in.”

“You have high ideals.” She raised her brow with a sigh, Gaara’s words… had an impact for sure. Someone who was being too optimistic perhaps. Itachi was not someone who treads on intents. However, he won’t let this act go unnoticed.

And… he didn’t. After Gaara let Rose go, escorting her to the Leaf safely. Itachi personally and cordially invited Gaara to the village.

The red-haired man was already losing everything by then. Sleep is something he has lost a while ago, thanks to Shukaku… right now— it’s his senses. He’s never seen someone so beautiful, so fierce, yet has eyes so kind. At first it started with his mind pondering off, then he started dreaming about her… now, he can’t wait to see her.

“Rose, The Kazekage has personally asked for you to be his escort through his visit. You can accompany him throughout the visit.” Itachi spoke, going through the papers sent by Gaara.

“Is he in love with me or what?” Rose laughed out, “I seriously think he hasn’t talked to a girl in his life.”

Itachi smiled at that statement, “Now now, whatever that is, we still treat guests nicely.” Itachi hummed, looking at her who had a plastered eye roll.

Things… proceeded. Gaara was in the Leaf, met Itachi, and eventually asked to go to the lake behind the village borders with Rose. Weird— this man was so fucking weird. Rose almost felt him delusional with how silent yet weirdly exhilarated Gaara looked.

Once they reached the lake, Rose couldn’t handle the strange quietness of the travel & finally spoke up. “Why did you ask of me to accompany you?”

“Why not? Do you not like accompanying me? I thought it would be a good break for you from your Anbu Black Ops duties…”

Thoughtful… is what she thought of him right now, the glint in her brown eyes rising. “I see, well, thank you Kazekage sama.”

“Please, call me Gaara..”

“No, I will not, Kazekage Sama.”

“Why not?”

“Because you aren’t my friend or my buddy. You are officially visiting Konoha and I am responsible to accompany you as proposed by you officially to the Hokage.”

“What would it take for me to be called… your buddy?” Gaara’s cheeks were dusted pinkish. He had never been this brave in communication ever. But something told him that for Rose, he had to be.

“When you wouldn’t be wearing your Hokage robes, when you’d be a normal person who would meet me without my uniform. Maybe have similar interests as me. Then, I will call you Gaara; Kazekage sama.” Rose replied, and even though she didn’t say it precisely for him, Gaara felt his heart do sommersaults at the way her lips parted when she pronounced his name.

“You have a specific set of rules I must excel in, don’t you?” He smiled, looking down at the stillness of the water surface, watching her reflection and not directly looking at Rose. He felt he would melt if he did…

“Well, you wanted me to be informal. Then you, have to earn it. Just like you earned Itachi’s trust.” She smiled, also biting her lip. God— he was so gentle and kind, she knew the stories of how he used to be dangerous, vile, selfish & utterly cruel. This person & that person… don’t match.

“Well then, allow me to ask of your time so I can earn being your friend, please?” Gaara urged again, looking into her brown eyes this time, even with eyes as deep as hers, it was hard to read her soul.

“Are you asking someone who’s duty is to accompany you— and nothing else, to accompany you?” Rose laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Yes, accompany me as yourself, not as an Anbu Shinobi.” Gaara re-phrased.

“I will see… maybe, maybe not. You must find out eventually.”

“Patience is something I’m very good at.”

“Oh, are you? Let’s see how long until you lose your patience and get oppressive with your demands.”

“Would you like that, Rose san?”

She didn’t respond to that, and for Gaara, it was enough that her smile hadn’t faded as they both watched the scenary around the lake, how the sun was fading… this wasn’t so bad after all.

[wyattjohnston]

closer than i ever even knew - quinn hughes

summary: quinn saves the day and goes mini-golfing

word count: 1.1k

note: happy belated birthday @fallinallincurls! this is much, much shorter than i anticipated and i hope it's short but sweet. muchas gracias to @offside-the-lines <3

bingo: friends to lovers | witty banter | fake dating | it’s always been you

It starts, like any good romance movie does, with an event she doesn’t want to go to and a friend willing to save the day.

The event isn’t even big or fancy, which makes the whole thing so funny. She’s under no obligation to bring anyone, let alone a romantic partner, but, during the busiest hour of her week, a coworker had asked if she was going to, and the ‘yes’ had slipped from her mouth before she’d even realised it was happening.

Thus, Quinn Hughes was playing mini golf at a "team bonding" event her company decided was a good idea.

Her intention hadn’t been to earn any brownie points by bringing him—he had volunteered himself, after all—but the second they arrived and her boss spotted Quinn Hughes, Captain of the Vancouver Canucks, she immediately grouped them with her, her wife and the next nearest couple.

They wasted no time in heading to the first hole, her boss taking the lead and making sure they weren’t stuck behind anybody else. Which turned out to be a good thing because Quinn was taking practice swings with the putter.

She rolled her eyes as she asked, “Are you taking this seriously, or are you having fun?”

“Are we on a team?”

“No, it’s individual.”

“Then I’m taking it seriously,” Quinn answered easily. “No way am I letting you win.”

The questions came through shortly after they started, nosing in on the relationship lie that resulted in Quinn joining them for the day. Well, they weren’t aware that it was a lie, of course.

Luckily for her, Quinn was all too happy to do the talking.

The lingering looks and touches had her wondering why Quinn pursued hockey when he would have been just as successful as an actor. Even though he was determined to win, the simple repositioning of her hands on the putter and the minute correction of the position of her hips were leaving her short of words.

“Is this good enough for you, Captain?” she called over her shoulder, teasing Quinn as she lined up for her next shot. The wiggle in her hips was joking—mostly involuntary even—but it immediately drew Quinn’s eyes, even though he was mid-conversation.

“You’ve got great form, babe.”

A wink accompanied the sentence and she had to look away so that her blush wouldn’t be seen by her coworkers. Or by Quinn.

It did mean that she turned around and focused on her putting, leading to a nice hole-in-one.

At various points throughout the afternoon, Quinn’s hand found hers. Their fingers intertwined in a perfect fit, and it took all her power to not act like it was a strange occurrence; she desperately wanted to get out of her head and enjoy those moments while they lasted.

Her boss, finally taking a break from talking about hockey, asked about how they met. The looks sent Quinn’s way were a discrete panic, but he didn’t seem to be facing the same problem.

“We had the same routine running the Sea Wall—seemed like fate that we kept running into each other when my schedule’s so chaotic, you know?” he answered, providing an entirely accurate retelling that had her shocked he hadn’t opted for something a bit more romantic. “She literally fell for me.”

“Me?” she nearly screeched, any confusion she was feeling or fluttering in her stomach was immediately overtaken by incredulity. “You tripped over a dog lead!”

“You distracted me, what can I say?”

There was some cooing that followed, and Quinn refused to make eye contact despite the cocky smile on his face. It was becoming increasingly difficult to tell whether it was all just for show.

Her boss ended up winning, after a lot of effort and a competitive nature that would rival anybody Quinn played with or against. She and Quinn shared many sideways glances with raised eyebrows at just how competitive she was.

The world stopped spinning when Quinn leaned in and whispered directly into her ear, “Still beat you, though.”

As they were leaving, Quinn took her hand again. It was so casual that she wasn’t sure any thought had gone into it at all—and with nobody looking their way, it did nothing to heighten their ruse. She glanced down at their hands, too distracted to even say a proper goodbye as Quinn earnestly told everyone he hoped to see them again soon—that also added to her confusion.

The streets of Vancouver were deeply familiar, etched into her brain from a young age with every slight raise in the concrete committed to muscle memory, so she knew that they were headed towards the water and away from either of their apartments the second Quinn chose a direction. The Sea Wall surrounding the city was her favourite part of it with nothing else even coming close.

“Weird time for a run?” she asked. She wiggled her fingers just to test the pressure. Quinn squeezed back. “I don’t want to go for a run right now.”

“Nobody is going for a run,” he said gently. “I didn’t even want to be going for runs but I saw you on that first day and kept going out just in case I’d see you again.”

She screwed up her face, the disbelief that ran through her had her pulling her hand from Quinn’s and huffing, “Don’t be stupid.”

“How am I being stupid?” There was a tinge of hurt in his voice that she so rarely heard; she felt it right in her chest.

“I don’t know, Q. I just don’t believe you went out of your way to find me. That’s not…” Her voice was muffled by the sound of the water rushing against the Sea Wall. “That doesn’t happen in real life. To me.”

Quinn stared at her, seemingly taking in every inch of her face, and she could only imagine the expression she was making. If she looked as pathetic as she felt, she would need to make sure she never saw him again.

“It’s happening to you.” he stressed. “Today was… Today… I’d like today to be every day.”

She had so many things she wanted to say but no ability to make them come out of her mouth. She felt no less pathetic than she did a moment earlier, though she did feel a little more hopeful. It had been a good day, even if confusing, and she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been wanting something similar since they first met years prior.

“Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because you’re Quinn Hughes? Because you’re the Captain of the Vancouver Canucks? We’ve just spent the entire day with your ass being kissed—you could have your pick of any woman in Vancouver. We’ve been friends for like, what? Three years now and you’ve never—”

“I am now. I don’t want anybody else. I want you. It’s always been you.”

i would very much love to hear your thoughts if you have any, and would love if you'd reblog and share it with some more people <3

[httpsuniverse]

fine line [ christian pulisic ]

after finding out the secret you’ve been hiding for years, christian made it his mission to be with his own family and of course, to be with you despite your careers and other obstacles that’s keeping the both of you apart. things are moving too fast and it’s starting to worry you. but don’t worry—“we’ll be a fine line”.

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — christian pulisic x ex!reader; oc!emily, oc!ezekiel, oc!andrew . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °.   *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — insta au, im not really good at dates but just imagine the setting is during the summer lmfao, christian & y/n softlaunching (are they really though 🤨) . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °.   *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ YEAH so ive only got this for now, i haven’t finished writing the narrative scenario BUT FOR NOW enjoy this <3 ALSOOO belated happy birthday to my man who isn’t my man but is my man ❤️🖤

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

— in case you missed it: easy on me • read more of my works here!

cmpulisic

liked by masonmount and 299,372 others

cmpulisic summer for the books ✌🏻 ready to go 🚨♟️

view all 382 comments

user wait what

user since anyone isn’t mentioning anything about the 4th and 8th pic, i will. DID I MISS SOMETHING OR....?

user girl you’re wrong, everyone’s talking about it

user you mean, did WE miss something? yeah, we definitely did

user yall maybe that’s just his nephew or something 😭

user i don’t...i don’t think so...

user WHATTTTT

user whose kid is that christian 😭

user this is your year christian 👏🏻

user captain america ❤️🖤

masonmount congratulations brother 🤝

benchilwell my man 🫡

yourusername

liked by emilyemmons and 579 others

yourusername what a crazy summer it has been 🌻 til next time florida!

view all comments

emilyemmons 💗 enjoy your journey to milan, my loves!!

yourusername come visit us when celeste is a bit older 😚💗

emilyemmons oh we definitely would 🫶 celeste definitely loved having her godmom around 😌

yoursistersig hot mamas!! 🥵 emilyemmons yourusername

yourusername stoppp 🫣

emilyemmons this summer is the most i’ve seen y/n wear bikinis and she’s the HOTTEST

yoursistersig ikr! that’s what i've been telling herrr 😫

yourmomsig zekey holding the flowers 🌷 enjoy milan, my love 🤍 wishing you all the best

yourusername 🥹 see you soon mom!!

emilyemmons those are from ********* 🤭

yourusername emi!!!

yourmomsig well, they’re beautiful! he definitely remembers which flowers you like 😉

deedee_pulisic come back soon with zeke ❤️

yourusername of course! he and avery can be playmates 🥰

user wait a minute...

user girl are you thinking what i’m thinking

user ...yes...

user is THAT christian 😭

user GIRLLL the tattoo, the beard !!!! it IS christian

YOURUSERNAME HAS SET THEIR ACCOUNT TO PRIVATE.

cpulisicupdates

10,817 likes

cpulisicupdates “I’LL DO MY BEST TO PROTECT THEM FROM THE PUBLIC”

are these hints that christian pulisic is finally off the market? watch christian’s newest interview, click the link on my bio to access it! 😄

view all 492 comments

user wait what

user I KNEW THAT KID IS HIS

user we’ll never know unless he confirms it him babe

user girl are you not convinced already lol look closely at the pictures of the kid on the mom’s posts, he clearly looks like christian when he was a kid

user still not convinced

user you do you ig

user “very special people that i’ve recently reunited with” omfg exes to lovers i think

user GIIIIIIIIIIRL 😭 dont do this to me

user dont blame me i finished a lot of movies today

user i dont know which one of you bitches just lied to me and told me i have a chance with this man ... APPARENTLY HE HAS A KID

user this has got to be the funniest shit i’ve read today 😭

user yeah that girl and kid is definitely connected to him, i surrender

user she’s definitely the girl he dated during his dortmund days

user i cant complain though, she’s gorgeous and i dont blame christian for being private with his relationship right now especially if they have a kid together

[saltpepperbeard]

Stede + Looking Spicy 🔥🔥🔥 For @bizarrelittlemew 🎉💖. Happy Belated Birthday, dearest Ida! So sorry for the holdup. One could say there were some uh, eXTENUATING CIRCUMSTANCES. But regardless of everything going on, I still hope you had the most marvelous day, and I'm sending you so much love, so many hugs, and all the Rhys Shots you could possibly ask for. Stiddies? Leggies? Hair? You got it, babe. I'm there. I'm always in awe of you and your talent, and I hope to have the honor of creating alongside you for many, many more months to come. Cheers and love to you always <3

[fishwithtitz]

A Simple Existence (a Papa Emeritus IV x f!reader one shot)

A/N: This one was written specifically for my sweet cheese, my main babe Jen (@copias-juicebox). Her birthday was on Wednesday and this is a very belated present created with her in mind. Girl, you wanted subby sweet Copia, you got him! Love you so much and I'm so happy I met you. Alles Gute zum nachträglichen Geburtstag!

Also, special shout out to @anamelessfool, @eyeslikelilith, and @portaltothevoid for beta'ing and feedback <3

If you'd like to be on my tag list, please comment!

⛧⛧⛧

Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI

Papa Emeritus IV x f!reader / 5.1k words

Warnings: dom/sub relationship, hints at dub-con (if you squint?), oral sex, piv, language, cock worshipping

ao3 link

Over the past few weeks, it had become more commonplace for Papa Emeritus IV to be sitting at his cherry wood desk, pen in hand as he rifled through various Ministry tasks late into the night. 

To many, Papa was a figurehead of the church — both through his leadership in the spiritual sector of the Ministry and as frontman of the Ghost project. But so many didn’t realize the influence he had within the planning and implementation of the church and its projects as a whole. 

It was almost as if he breathed much-needed oxygen into the lungs of the abbey and transfused his own lifeblood into the theatrics of the band. The Ministry was, to put it simply, his everything. It was something you had come to love and loathe about the man.

Tonight was no different than any other night the past few weeks. Copia sat perched in his worn office chair (the one he’d taken with him from his stay at the abbey in Venice during his time as a bishop), papal paint smeared somewhat from the occasional swipe of his palm against his cheeks as he thought through a complex task. A banker’s lamp and the starlight were the only sources of illumination in the office space — a tell of how late into the evening it had become. 

You’d sat up night after night waiting for your Papa to come back to his chambers at a reasonable hour. Most nights ended with you falling asleep as you sat  against the headboard in your shared bed or lounged on the loveseat in the sitting room. Tonight, however, you’d had enough. You were worried that the ministry was taking advantage of the Satanic pope’s hardworking and passionate spirit and the last thing you wanted was for him to spiral into burn out. Tonight, you would put your foot down. 

It was a short walk from the Papal chambers to Copia’s office. You’d made the trek what felt like hundreds of times and this specific time, it was as if the route had been cut in half. Perhaps that was the speed at which your bare feet carried you, or perhaps it was the simmering frustration you had bubbling in your chest. Nevertheless, you didn’t bother to knock before you pushed on the oaken double doors to Papa’s workspace. 

As soon as you shut the heavy door behind you, Papa’s head sprung up in alarm as if he had been shaken out of a trance. You walked into the spacious office, nightgown flowing behind you like an estuary, and stopped a couple of meters away from where he sat. 

“Il amore mio, what are you doing h-”

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” You found yourself cutting off his tired greeting.

Copia pressed his thumb and forefinger against his temples, gently rubbing them as he closed his eyes in defeated frustration. “I haven’t looked at the clock in a while.”

“It’s nearly one in the morning,” you answered for him, taking a step towards the cherrywood desk. “Come to bed.  It’s not doing you any good burning the midnight oil.”

Copia’s hand dropped from his temples and on any other occasion, you would smirk at the sight of the smudged paint on his fingertips. “I assure you that I have plenty of fuel left for this candle’s flame, amore mio,” he said. 

“But you’re burning it at both ends!” you retorted, voice raising in a mix of sympathy and frustration. “Copia, it’s not a matter of if you’ll drive yourself into the ground but when.” You moved to round the large wooden desk, and as you approached him, your expression softened. “All of this can wait until tomorrow,” you said, voice slightly calmer now.

You shifted behind him and snaked your arms around his shoulders, resting them on his strong chest. Your lips pressed to the hair atop his head.  The salt-and-pepper streaked strands that once were combed back on his head but had since begun to fall into his eyes and around his temples. “Just, come to sleep. I miss you. I miss my Papa.”

And you realized that this man, this hopelessly devoted man beneath the cloak of your arms was the picture of leadership. A perfect blend of authority and quiet strength. Measured. Loving. Dedicated. And when necessary, absolutely ruthless. 

Papa sighed at your admission and reached up to place his non-dominant hand over one of yours, his pen still gripped tight in the other. “Il mio amore,” he began, voice apologetic and oddly tinged with dampened annoyance, “you must understand that I am everyone’s Papa. The work I do is necessary to maintain and grow the ministry — our outreach, our education, charity — the very diffusion of our beliefs lies within my leadership.”

At his dismissal, you felt your grip around him loosen, your hands sliding from around his shoulders as you stepped away from him. “You think I don’t know that? You are one man, Copia. You can’t do it all,” you began as you ran your hand through your hair in frustration. You stepped to the side to better face him, hoping to see him — even just a glance at the mismatched eyes you were growing to love. “I’m tired of watching you run yourself ragged trying. And quite frankly, I’m tired of being left behind while you choose your work over everything else in your life.”

Copia’s eyes finally rose to meet yours. His voice changed from his more understanding and apologetic (possibly even patronizing) tone to one of seriousness. “My work is my duty…my oath to the lightbringer, to his infernal majesty.”

The earlier simmering of frustration in your chest came to a roaring boil at his retort and you moved to face him, arms crossed over your chest as you leaned just slightly over his desk. “Well, I suppose it’s good to know where your duties lie.”

With that, you left the office, leaving Copia to ruminate in the reverberating slam of the heavy oak door and the ringing of your words repeating in his head.

Copia tried his best to finish up the task he’d been in the middle of when you’d stopped by his office at the end of the clergy wing, but no matter how much he attempted to focus, he couldn’t drag his mind away from the argument you’d just shared. Perhaps you were right. Perhaps he had been neglectful in other areas of his life. After a light yawn escaped from his lips, he decided to pack up his work and return back to your shared room. Afterall, he probably owes you an apology.

He didn’t even remember walking back to the papal chambers, the weight of his exhaustion being so heavy that it dulled his sense of time. Despite this, when he entered your shared room, he still had the wherewithal to show slight shock that you were still awake and waiting for him on the sitting room chaise. 

“Tesoro,” he started, walking around the loveseat to approach you, “I am sorry for the way that I spoke earlier—”

His apology was cut off, however, when you held up a hand as if to nonverbally signal for him to stop. His eyebrows creased just slightly in confusion.

“Go to our bedroom and get undressed,” you said, voice devoid of any emotion yet strangely demanding given your usual countenance. As he opened his mouth to protest, you raised an eyebrow, holding your hand up again to silence him once more. With this, Copia’s eyes adopted a slight glimmer and his lips fought the desire to curve into a smirk. He knew what this meant. 

He took a step closer to you and his voice lowered as he spoke. “You want to play Papa tonight, dolcezza?” As he approached you, you fought the desire to conform to him, to allow him to take hold of the reins that he so often gripped. 

You steadied your countenance and gave him a simple nod in retort. 

This time, his lips made the final curve into the smirk he had tried to withhold. As he made his way into the bedroom, his gloveless hand reached towards his neck to loosen his blue cravat (a favorite of yours, he remembered), and unfasten the buttons lining the center of his shirt. He shrugged both of them off and set them on the bench at the foot of the bed before working to remove his pants, belt, shoes, and socks. Soon enough, he was left only in his boxers, and he began to move towards the bed, assuming your insistence that he get some rest.

Instead, you nonchalantly walked by him as you rounded the four-poster bed. “I said undressed, Papa,” you remarked coolly.

He turned to look at you, eyebrows raised once more, before his expression crinkled slightly. “As you wish, amore mio,” he said. Your face remained stoic.

The truth was, as you waited for him to return from his office after your discussion, you realized that you had two choices. You could be angry with him for the neglect he’d shown to your relationship. It would definitely be well-founded, and you had every right to give him a prolonged cold shoulder in retaliation. 

Or, you could approach the situation with the empathy you had craved from him. You could help him realize that his ascension to papacy did not require him to work himself to the bone. On the contrary, it should allow him to revel in the devotion that others craved to provide to him.

You’d decided on the latter.

Papa slid the silken fabric of his boxers down his toned legs (oh, how you’d love to worship those legs) and let them pool on the floor below as he stepped out of them. You motioned to the bed with nothing more than a flick of your gaze, and he sat against the edge. 

“Back against the headboard, Papa.” Your voice felt weirdly not your own. Not that you were complaining, by any means. You felt a surge of confidence and power prickling through your body and you couldn’t help but wonder if this is what he felt like when he presided over Mass. 

Copia scooted his body back to the headboard, back flush against the aged wood, and set his palms down against the pillows. After reaching down to grab his discarded cravat (to which you internally smiled as you noticed the blue hue), your feet carried you towards him, padding softly against the carpet in the papal suite, and you pulled up the sheer organza of your nightgown to reveal the thigh-high stockings you’d adorned while waiting for him to finish in his office. His pupils widened. 

Slipping them off with deliberate purpose, you gathered them both in your hands by their length and reached to grab his right wrist. Without hesitation, you looped the black nylon fabric around him and began securing him to the headboard. “You better than anyone know the values of our church,” -the nylon tightens- “the importance of self indulgence” -pull- “practicing the sin of lust” -loop- “showing our devotion to the one below through celebration of carnal desire.” He watched as you tightened the knot, testing its strength, his eyes deeply curious as he allowed this scenario to play out. You then brought forth his cravat and secured his left hand to the other side in symmetry. 

You backed away and admired your prize. There he sat — the leader of the Ministry of Satan, Papa Emeritus IV, his Unholy Eminence, looking back at you while restrained against the bed with his infernal eye burning. With what? You wondered. Curiosity? Anger? Lust? Annoyance? Intrigue? He opened his mouth to speak, and you reached forward to press a single finger to his lips. 

“You’ve spent so much time speaking on behalf of the church that I think you’ve forgotten how to listen.”

And it was true. All of his duties hung heavy on his shoulders. His ascension to papacy only seemed to increase the workload, and in recognizing his competence, the other senior clergy members dumped task after task upon him that he knew were not required of his predecessors. But, he’d wanted this. He’d yearned for it for so long. How could he stand up against the very ministry that he vowed to serve eternally?

Once more, you lifted up the flowy nightgown to reveal a pair of white satin lace panties. A symbol of purity, innocence — a stark contrast to your actions and the wicked man in front of you. Your thumbs hooked under the waistband and you slid them off, before neatly balling them up in your fist. “Open,” you directed. Surprisingly, Copia obeyed. You smirked and pushed the fabric past his lips and into his mouth, effectively silencing him. 

Your attention turned to his legs splayed out before you. His strong thighs sat parallel to one another as they rested against the pillow-top mattress. Stretching forward, you began to run your hands along each thigh, enjoying the feel of the muscles beneath your palms as they lightly flexed under your touch. “I love these thighs,” you murmured, almost to yourself. You moved to straddle him, climbing just above his knees with your legs on either side of his. Lifting your arms slightly, you loosened the front tie to the bodice of your nightgown, then pulled both breasts out of the scoop neck. They sat directly in front of his painted face, and your eyes watched his as they traveled across the expanse of your chest, his kohl-colored lips barely parted. You swore you heard a noise escape from them. 

You leaned in, breasts brushing against his bare skin as you hovered your mouth by his ear. “Patience,” you breathed, a smirk evident in your tone. As you pulled away, you licked your lips and continued. “You’ve proven that you’re very good at doling out orders. Now,” you trailed your finger down his chest, pausing at the bottom of his sternum, “let’s see if you know how to follow them.”

You knew at this moment that your attention, your affection, was what he craved. However, you also knew that for him to learn to let go, you couldn’t give him what he wanted so easily. Not just yet. So, you leaned back slightly and hovered your bare crotch against his own. You could feel the heat of the both of you and you smiled, pushing down just barely to push your mons against his length. It involuntarily twitched against you and you used this moment to pull back further, earning you a near whine from him (which you purposefully ignored). 

As you sat back against his legs, you looked back down at them, biting your lip. “Fuck, touring has done so much for you. I can’t get enough of these,” you spoke, running your hands along the skin of his quads. “You never have time to let me feel them against me. How sculpted the muscles are, how strong they feel…”

With that, you shuffled your body so that you were straddling his left thigh, your own heat ghosting against the skin of it. You began to press your core down against him, putting pressure against your clit. Looking up, you locked eyes with him. “Do you feel what they do to me?” you asked, beginning to move your hips just slightly, just so, so that he could feel your wetness slipping against him. “How wet it makes me just thinking about touching you?” 

Copia groaned against the fabric of the panties in his mouth. It was muffled but audible, which made you realize just how loud it would be without the gag. 

“And yet…you deny me? All for your work?” Your voice took on a tone of inquisitive mock innocence and hurt, and you creased your eyebrows for effect. Forgetting about the restraints, Copia moved his arms to grab onto you, but groaned again as he realized he was secured into place. 

“What was the saying? ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy?’” At this, you reached down and grabbed onto his erection, trapping it between your leg and his as you ground down on the top of his thigh, pussy pushing down much more forcefully. You let out a moan and tilted your head back at the feeling. He was nearly shaking beneath you. 

Your hips found a slow yet strong rhythm as you gyrated against him. With every forward movement, your leg squeezed against his cock and he let out a series of noises — muffled whimpers and moans — and eventually, his eyelids tightly pressed shut. 

“Is…is pastoral care one of your duties, Papa?” You breathed out, your own voice becoming more lust-dipped as you moved against him. “When you’re taking care of your flock…all of your flock…does that include their desires?” You reached up and grabbed his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “Aren’t I not part of your flock, Papa?”

He nodded in your hand, eyes nearly ablaze as he all but came undone beneath you. He was so hard it was almost painful, and as you moved above him, riding his thigh like a fucking mechanical bull, your own visage was morphed into one of powerful pleasure. Your tempo increased and you let out a shaky moan at the pressure building low in your abdomen. You were close to feeling the release you’d craved from him for god knows how long. This, along with his own impending orgasm, caused him to spit out the panties from his mouth. 

“Dolcezza, please, do not tease me like this,” he whined, words dripping with need. His papal paints were smeared around the mouth and chin from your touch and you bit your lip at the sight. He pulled on the wrist restraints. “Need you,” he choked out. You smirked and immediately ceased your motions against him. His face fell.

“Let’s see if you can use your mouth for something more useful.”

You moved from his thigh, leaving his cock unattended as it dripped for you, hungry and red, nearly pulsating. Suddenly, you stood up and straddled him, bringing your core directly to his face. His increased breath danced across the slick of your pussy and you held back a groan of your own. “If your duties lie only to the church, then maybe you should prove your devotion to honoring the one below.”

Without warning, you slid your hand into his hair and brought his mouth to your wet heat. A strangled groan erupted from him and he immediately dove in, nose against your mound as he fervently moved his tongue between your impossibly slick folds. You reached out with the hand not currently lost within his hair and gripped onto the top of the headboard to steady yourself. 

Copia flattened out his tongue and you began to buck your hips against his face, riding him as he broadly licked up and down your clit and to your entrance. You were certain you were making some sort of pleasurable sound, but at the moment, it was as if the world and all of its stimulation paused. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of his skillful mouth against you, his eyes shut as he ate you out like a starved man. 

His tongue moved to flick against your sensitive bud and he wrapped his lips around it before sucking harshly. It was a move that he knew drove you crazy, and the burning in your thighs as you tried to stabilize yourself heightened the pressure. You could feel your own legs shaking, but you continued to grind against him, and for the first time, you wished his hands weren’t restrained so that he could fuck you with his fingers, too. 

“You are so good at this,” you hummed out, looking down to watch him as you rode his face. The previous tension from your near orgasm on his thigh was back, and your own reserve was faltering. He flickered his eyes open and growled against your cunt at the sight of you above him, trembling and absolutely wrecked from arousal, and the combination of the vibration of his noises and intensity of his stare sent you reeling over the edge.

You cried out his name, head snapped back as your hand gripping onto the headboard turned white-knuckled. He continued to move his tongue up and down your folds, occasionally flicking his tongue against your oversensitive clit as he helped you through your orgasm.

Eventually, you pulled away sea-legged and released your grasp from his now messed coif, sinking down onto your knees. Your own breath was ragged and you gripped onto his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself. He looked directly ahead at you with a prurient expression, the paint of his cheeks and nose and chin smeared and saturated with your arousal. In a normal situation, he’d make a racy or teasing remark, but he remained silent. It was as if he had finally learned his place. 

You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his shoulders as you placed a solitary kiss to his sternum, relishing in the feeling of his chest hair against your lips and chin. You then moved south, mouth lightly kissing and sucking on the skin of his abdomen, the angular hip bones that framed his cock, and the trail of hair right below his belly button. 

His neglected length twitched as your face brushed against it and you smirked, sitting up just barely to look at it. Reaching out, you grasped onto him, grip firm, and began to languidly stroke. 

“How could I forget about you?” you cooed, thumb pad pressing against his frenulum before you continued your pace. “You deserve to feel good.” He groaned at the contact and his head jerked back against the solid headboard. You chuckled darkly and licked your lips at the sight of him below you. “The lightbringer would be disappointed if their chosen figurehead didn’t properly spoil in self-indulgent sins of the flesh? Wouldn’t he?”

Copia whined beneath you, but you paid no mind, continuing your slow movements. You lowered your head, breath tickling against the end of him, and began to rub his shaft and tip against your cheeks and lips. “I love your dick,” you said, voice barely above a sultry whisper. You began to press kisses to every inch of his cock, savoring him, worshiping him. 

He squirmed beneath you, and unable to restrain himself, he groaned out, “Cazzo, please.”

You stopped and peered up at him. His eyes were shining with tears of frustration and you were sure that the mix of submission and denial was pushing him to his limits. But despite the look of exasperation on his face, you knew him well enough to know what he truly desired in this moment. And he trusted you completely, fully, to deliver him to reverie. 

“Let me take care of you,” you said, pressing a kiss to the very tip of him before laving your tongue over him slowly. Copia moaned loudly and his hips twitched up into your mouth, requiring you to hold him down with your other hand. “You don’t need to control everything,” you responded, mouth still pressed against his length. 

Had you been looking up, you’d have seen him nod in response, but you were too focused on what was throbbing in front of you to pay him any mind. Lips parted, you descended down his length, taking him as far into your mouth as you possibly could. Copia hissed in response and you smirked around him. You knew that the sudden sensation of warmth would be nearly unbearable, too much, and you delighted in being the one controlling his fire. 

You hollowed out your cheeks and slowly popped off of him. With a swift readjustment of your frame, you straddled his thighs (marveling at the drying slick on the left one), and took his chin in hand. “Look at me,” you murmured, and he obliged. Your non-dominant hand traced the contour of his jaw, fingertips now glazed in white and grey paint, and you dipped your index finger between his lips as you positioned yourself over his cock and sunk down. 

The Satanic Pope’s mouth dipped open and a low groan slipped past your finger still perched on his lip. Your own center was still sensitive from your recent orgasm and the sensation of fullness was almost overwhelming, so you stilled your movement to allow for the both of you to adjust to the feeling. For the first time, you dipped your head forward and rested your forehead against his own, your hand cupping his jaw. You could feel the sweat slicked between the both of you and you closed your eyes as a soft, shaky breath escaped you.

After a moment of blissful stillness, you opened your eyes to look at the man you currently had caged in by your arms and thighs, and you carded your fingers through his hair. His gaze held a knowing fire that you recognized as one of silent permission, of need, desire, of his own restrained dominance. With that, you gripped at his hair near the scalp and tipped his head back as you lifted yourself almost completely off of his length. 

“Out there, you might be the leader of our congregation. You might proselytize to millions of siblings and fans. But right here,” your grip tightened, and you leaned in to whisper against the shell of his ear, “right now, you answer to me. How badly do you want it?”

“Merda, badly, so badly,” he growled. You pulled away and your telltale smirk returned to your features. He looked positively sinister. His face flushed beneath his skull paint and sweat was beading across his brow. Both of his eyes nearly black from lust-blown pupils. A manifestation of evil incarnate. 

“Then take it. Take everything you need.”

And take he did. His hips canted up into you and he slid in to the hilt, flesh pressed against flesh, and you fell forward into his shoulder with a near-howl of your own at the fullness. Your hands found purchase against his pecs and you matched his movements as he pumped into you frantically. Every movement stretched you further, licked flames against the sore muscles of your legs, but you ignored the pain and moved with purpose. Your lips found his and you kissed him for the first time this evening, pouring out your loyalty into the action as his tongue pushed greedily into your mouth. 

As you shifted your position atop him just slightly, his cock brushed against your g-spot and you cried out in euphoria. The corners of his lips curled against yours as he panted through his movements, knowingly hitting that spot with every single upward thrust. 

You swallowed back another moan as you tried to speak. “Fill me so good,” you nearly slurred as you pulled from the kiss. “Look at me,” you said, voice less commanding and more sweet. You knew your release was imminent and you wanted him to visualize the effect he had on you. How he made your body implode as he dragged you down to hell himself.

Your own words were rushed, nearly babbled as you continued. “Look at how good you make me feel.” His eyes locked with yours and you rested one hand on his chest, the other snaking to grasp onto the nape of his neck, while moonbeams erupted in your skin as your climax took hold. Your jaw dropped just slightly and although your mouth threatened a moan, no sound came out as he fervently bucked up into you. 

Your shared motions sped up and you could feel how close he was by the sloppiness of his thrusts as he helped you ride out your release. “Take what you need,” you repeated in a pant. “Take everything you need from me.” 

You pushed through the overstimulation and watched as his hands balled into fists in the restraints and he planted his feet firmly onto the bed, fucking up into you like he never had before. His eyes shone with unsprung tears and he was spitting out a slew of curses in Italian, with affirmations of love peppered in throughout. 

“Cazzo, dolcezza, I-” And just as hard as he had climbed, he crashed down violently. He came roughly with a sound that sounded like a mix between a groan and a sob, hips jerking as he pumped his spend into you with wild abandon. He filled you so deeply that you could feel him beginning to leak down your inner thigh as he pistoned through his orgasm. 

“So good for me,” you purred, pressing a kiss to the place where his hairline began at the top of his forehead, ignoring the sweat-soaked strands that fell into his tear-filled eyes. As you pulled away, you saw one of those tears fall and you quickly swiped it with your thumb. And with that, it was as if the dam had been broken, and both eyes began spilling rushed streams down his cheeks. 

You moved to quickly untie his wrists from the headboard and as soon as he was set free, his arms wrapped around your middle and his head fell to your chest. “So good for me,” you repeated, more of a coo this time, and you pressed another kiss to the top of his head as your hands lovingly traced up and down his back. 

You sat like that for a while, holding him as he softened inside of you, his tears and quiet sobs the backdrop of your denouement. He almost surprised you when he lifted his head to properly look at you. 

“Mi dispiace, tesoro. I don’t know…I’m not sure where this is coming from,” he admitted, thumbs rubbing against the curve of your spine. 

You smiled softly, reassuringly, and brought one of his wrists to your mouth. A red mark had formed from the friction of the cravat, and you kissed at it soothingly. “You have needs too, Papa,” you said as you continued to kiss at the sensitive skin. He hummed in response and you smiled again, this time a little wider. 

“Thank you for letting me love you.”

And in his eyes, you saw a dawning realization, a comfort of sorts that came to flood his mind. He had known this had been an exercise of shared power, of course, of allowing you to express your needs in a way that the both of you enjoyed, even though you hadn’t previously explored the swap in control. However, as you took the reins, you’d gifted him with something he hadn’t anticipated — you’d guided him to liberation, encouraging him to release his expectations (the ones he’d built up of himself and the ministry) and just be. 

Your permission for simple existence was the best thing he hadn’t known to ask for.  

image/gif credit: imgur

[inklessletter]

"You will regret it when my babysitter gets here. He is a ba-" "A babe. Yeah. I know." "... I was going to say a badass."

--

Thank you all so much for trusting the process with me <3

--

@mentallyundone this is for you, my magic babe. Happy (very much belated) birthday, sweetheart. You always keep referring to Eddie as a little goblin, well, there you go, the Goblin King, just for you. You know, the legend says that if you wish with all your heart for the Goblin King to take you away with him, he might fulfill your deepest desires...

[enhashoutout]

Home to Me (Cobra x reader)

part 2 of Home to You please read the first part before reading this one

Genre: It's just fluff, domestic relationship

Warnings: sex is mentioned, typical H&L violence, other than that I don't think there is anything but let me know if I missed anything

I usually write with fem pronouns and descriptions because that is what is easiest for me. If those do not fit you, please feel free to change whatever needs to be changed to fit you while you read!

Italics are a character's thoughts

The one where Cobra is waiting for you at home and reflects on how he's happy you come home to him (takes place after the 3 movies)

In my dreams I come home to you and you come home to me, and for a split second every hardship I ever endured has meaning.

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Cobra sat on the couch, impatiently looking at the clock on the wall.

10:30. She should be back any minute now.

He continued to wait on the couch. He was tired but didn't want to go to sleep not knowing whether or not you were home. Cobra also liked being the one to greet you after a long day considering you were home after him 8 times out of 10. He couldn't understand how you were so patient waiting for him to come back when he was out on S.W.O.R.D business those very few 2 out of 10 times.

Cobra looked at the clock again.

10:35. It's only been 5 minutes?! It feels like I've been sitting here forever!

Cobra checked his phone to see if you had messaged him about coming home later, but the last text was still the one from earlier saying that you would be home by 10:30.

Just as Cobra was thinking about finding something to distract him, he heard the front door unlock. Cobra got up and quickly went to the door, opening it for you before you could even grab the doorknob.

"Hi babe! Sorry I'm a little late, I had to grab some things," you said as you were putting your bags on the kitchen table.

Cobra hugged you from behind. "As long you're home that's all that matters to me. I was beginning to worry, you usually come home right on time. What's all this?" He asked as he looked at the bags you had previously set down on the kitchen table.

"Well, I had an early shift at the hospital today and couldn't come home until late so I couldn't do anything for your birthday today. I bought stuff on the way home to make you breakfast and lunch tomorrow before I leave for my late shift tomorrow as a belated birthday present."

"You didn't have to ___. Having you is enough."

"You always say that! So corny."

"I'm being serious. The best gift is you, being here with me."

"That reminds me! Sit down please." ___ got out of Cobra's arms, gently pushed him to sit down in a chair, ran to the cupboard to grab the lighter, and pulled a box out of one of the bags setting it in front of Cobra. ___ sat down and opened the box, revealing a pink cupcake with a single candle put into the middle.

"It's 10:45. You have 15 minutes left, make a wish."

"I have no wishes, my dream already came true."

"As sweet as that is, I'm begging you to stop being corny and make a wish before the day is over."

"I'm being serious."

"In that case, make a new wish, and then you can tell me all about the wish that already came true. Promise I won't interrupt you."

"Okay." Cobra closed his eyes and made his wish.

I'm so lucky to have you. I thank whatever higher beings are out there that granted my wish the very first time we did this. I couldn't ask for anything more than what I have already been given because you are my everything. If I had to absolutely wish for something new, it is that this love lasts until the end of our days together.

He opened his eyes and blew out the candle. "I'm done."

"10:50. 10 minutes to spare. Are you sure you don't want to squeeze in a few more wishes while you have time?"

"No, I think that was good."

"If you say so. I will cook for you tomorrow and since I didn't get to spend your birthday with you today, I will spend all morning and afternoon with you tomorrow. We can do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want? Anything?"

"Anything."

"So what if we-"

"Scratch that I take that back. Anything but have sex all day. I work at a hospital I can't go to work with wobbly legs. I do have to be able to walk for my job."

"How about you call out for the entire day so you can just stay with me?"

"I had to negotiate a lot to even get half the day off. I would love to but I can't."

"That's no fun."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"It's okay I have tonight."

___ laughed as her fiancé led her to their bedroom.

(Yes they do have sex but no I will not be writing it because genuinely idk how 😂)

⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓⋅⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄⋅︓︒︑∘∗✧∘︑︒⚬∙︓⋅⠄✯∘⠄✧⠄

Cobra sat on the edge of your bed as he waited for you to finish taking a shower. You had forced him to take a solo shower tonight, knowing that if you went together the rounds would never end.

You came out of the bathroom, night routine done and tackled Cobra onto the bed.

"I hate you Cobra, now I'm really tired."

"You weren't saying that earlier."

"Well now I'm tired and it's your fault." The two of you laughed at each other.

"Let me adjust us into a more comfortable position." Cobra maneuvered you guys to be under the blankets, with his arms around your waist and your head laying on his chest.

"You didn't tell me about your wish that already came true."

"You see my wish that came true every time you look in the mirror my love."

"Why are you being so corny today? You're never like this. Cobra, Hino Junpei, doesn't like talking about his feelings ever..... Are you an imposter?! Give me my fiancé back! What did you do with him?" you said dramatically.

Cobra laughed as he pulled you closer to him. "Do you remember the first year we ever met?"

"I do. I was a struggling college student, trying to make it by. Studying and attending classes in the morning, and working at Itokan at night and on the weekends. When I had first moved back I was scared to take the nightshift but after a while, I wasn't scared anymore."

"Why is that?"

"I had you. You would sit in the corner of Itokan all night. I came back in the mornings to still find you under the blanket I draped over you the night before and I would set a glass of water and a painkiller by your arm so that when you woke up you had it there. I thought that that was just something you did until Naomi told me that you didn't actually stay over at Itokan unless you felt like avoiding going home. She said it wasn't often considering you spent most of your time at the gas station and then home alone. She said that a lot of the times she found you there was because you were waiting for me to go home. You would wake up after I left to go stay at the gas station, and then come to Itokan early in the morning and pretend you never left so that you could wait for me and make sure I arrived safely."

"I did do that. A lot actually. I just wanted to see you even if I didn't talk to you much. Do you remember the first birthday you spent with me?"

"I do. It was right around the time when Sannoh was having issues with Iemura and Noboru was stuck in the middle. Instead of drinking that night, you had sat in the corner deep in thought, thinking about a solution when I had interrupted you. I set a cupcake in front of you just like I did tonight. I was almost late just like tonight also. Naomi told me you didn't like celebrating your birthday much but because of everything happening, I thought it would've been nice to distract you from it even if just for a few minutes. I told you to make a wish and you did. I also wished for your wish to come true."

"It did. They all did."

"What were they?"

"I wished that Noboru would come back, and he did. I wished for nothing bad to happen to Sannoh, and we've been alright. As good as can be for a gang. The last thing I wish for, was you. I wished that one day I would come home to you and would come home to me. At that point in my life, you were the best thing that had ever happened to me, you still are. Every day I am happy that I come home to you, and you come home to me, and for a split second every hardship I ever endured had meaning; because they led me to you. When we first got together I was scared. I was scared because I had never loved someone so much before. I was scared that my position as Sannoh's leader would put you in danger. I was scared that one day you would wake up and realize that there was someone better out there for you and you would leave me. I mean, what business did a girl going to college to become a nurse have with some guy who almost didn't graduate high school and fights other gangs for a living? But everything came true. It's been years since then and I still have my brothers and I still have you, I couldn't ask for anything more."

"I love you too much, I would never be able to leave you. You can't get rid of me Cobra."

"I wouldn't dream of it. I hope that you come home to me in every lifetime."

You two shared a kiss before cuddling and falling asleep in each other's arms.

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Ta-Dah! You made it to the end! Thank you so much for reading it all. I hope you liked this, it's a bit different from what I've published here so far.

I have a confession lol, I read a lot of smut but I still can't figure out how to write it myself. I don't know how you all are so good at writing it, no matter how much I try I just don't like the way I do it. I guess I am just destined to write fluff and angst for the rest of eternity.

Please don't take my work and repost it as your own on any other platforms. Writers work really hard on their stories so don't be a shitty human and take it.

Anyways..... have a good day or night wherever you are and I will see you the next time I upload ❤️

[naffeclipse]

Hello and belated happy birthday Naff‼️‼️🎉🎉

This is wholly random and mostly word vomit and i know you probably get it a thousand times over but NAFF (shaking you) /vpos

You are so cool and such an amazing writer and just FRGRGR /vpos DUDE you have singlehandedly inspired me to research orcas bc of Apex Polarity and my friends will not hear the END of it trust me (did you know adult male dorsal fins can be 6 ft tall??? :0)

Naff, when i think of how I want to write you are one of the people my mind immediately goes to

Your prose and style and storytelling is so magical every time i read it- and it has made my stomach drop, heart flutter, even made me tear up :"D

Anyways <3 that's my compliment ramble 🫶 thanks for writing all these amazing stories, fanfic or original 💚 you're the best! >:)

Hey, babe! Ahhh, thank you! <333

NO, NO, I'M SHAKING YOU! I LOVE IT SO MUCH!

Oh my gosh, I love that I could inspire you! And that's so tall, ahhh! Orcas are so big!!

You're making me melt, eee! Thank you so much, it means the world to me! <3 Thank you for reading, babe!

[walviemort]

Expecting a Secret [1/3]

Summary: After the events of 3x19, Killian is at his lowest after being rejected by Emma. When Snow's labor turns out to be a false alarm, Zelena offers Killian a deal: she'll leave the Charmings alone…if he gives her the baby she needs for her spell instead. There's just one hitch: he has to keep it a secret. At least it will only take 10 days, right? a/n: (slightly belated) HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SWEET FRIEND @sancocnutclub !!! This is the full fic from the manip I posted last week. I meant to get this done in time for you bday, but it kind of ran away from me…and ended up being a three-parter instead of the one-shot I thought it would be! Hope you (and everyone else) likes it! I just really liked the idea of him trying to keep a whole entire pregnancy hidden. rated T | AO3 | 3.1k

Killian left the hospital feeling—-well, the worst he had in a long while. Perhaps he’d been rash in trying to get Henry out of town without his mother’s permission, but it was the only way he could think of to get around Zelena’s curse on his lips. 

Worse, though, was the fact that he’d lost the trust of not just Emma, but her family. It wasn’t entirely his fault—but some of it was.

It’d been clear he wasn’t needed or wanted at the hospital after it appeared Snow was going into labor, but it ended up being a false alarm; thank goodness, as they were far from prepared to protect the babe from the witch.

After a rather long moment of self-flagellation—in the form of watching the family take a well-deserved breath together in Snow’s hospital room, something he’d never be part of now—he shuffled off without goodbye, into the night.

His feet found him instinctively wandering toward the docks—further reminder of his shame, but he wanted to wallow in it tonight, punish himself further; it was what he deserved.

The vacant berth that had once held his ship was a fairly accurate metaphor for how he felt: empty, adrift, far from port, with only the churning sea to match his jumbled emotional state. He took a swig of rum, but the familiar burn did nothing for him.

“I warned you.”

He didn’t even flinch when he heard Zelena’s voice behind him; honestly, he expected it.

“It was pure luck they all showed up when they did. Otherwise, you’d have some more blood on your hands,” she went on, heeled footsteps sounding as she approached his side.

“The bloody hell do you want?” He was annoyed, but his reply had none of its usual bite.

“I want what I came here for. But now that you’ve told all the Charmings what my intention for you was, and now that they have their memories back, that’s all been dashed. Highly doubt the Savior is letting you get anywhere near her now.”

His heart somehow fell further, and it had already been near his feet. “No, I don’t imagine she will,” he concurred; were he and Emma’s situations reversed, he couldn’t say he wouldn’t do the same.

“That said, I still need your help to continue my plans.”

“Like hell,” he spat, then began to walk away—but she was suddenly in his path.

“Let me put it this way, Captain—you have two choices,” Zelena told him. “Either you can help me, and I leave Emma’s family alone,” she started, holding up one hand, “or I continue to go after all of them, no holds barred,” she finished, holding up the other. “It’s entirely your choice.”

Neither option was ideal. Knowing that Zelena basically wanted to wipe out the existence of Regina and Snow (and, consequently, Emma and Henry), he was loath to aid her in any way, shape, or form—especially considering she had no leverage anymore. 

But perhaps, if he did take her offer, he’d be able to find a way to subvert it—and redeem himself in their eyes.

“Fine,” he replied, albeit reluctantly. “I’ll help. Do whatever you need with me. But you must leave Snow, Emma, and their family alone.”

The wicked grin that took over her face should have been his warning. “Then we have a deal, contingent on one thing: you’re to actually keep it a secret this time.”

“Done.” It’s not like they’d listen to him, anyway.

She offered her hand to him to shake on it; he moved closer and took it. “It’ll be a pleasure doing business with you, Captain,” she said slyly.

He tried to let go of her hand, but she held tight. And her other hand began to glow that awful garish green, now held outstretched in front of her.

“What are you doing?” he asked, suddenly worried.

“What we just agreed on,” she answered, her eyes wide and seeming slightly unhinged. “Using you to get what I need.”

Then she swiftly stepped forward and shoved the ball of magic into his stomach. He hunched over for a moment, a slight cramping taking over, but then it dissipated, merely leaving him slightly sore. “What did you do?” he demanded, slightly out of breath.

“I still need a baby,” she said matter-of-factly. “So now you’re going to provide it.”

He wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. “That’s impossible,” he breathed, though his hand immediately flew to his stomach once she let go. “I’m—I’m a man.”

“Anything’s possible with magic,” she sing-songed.

His insides certainly felt different; that could be anything, though. “But won’t that take a while?” he asked, trying to call her bluff. “You’ve always struck me as the impatient type.”

“I am. Which is why this is going to go just a bit faster than usual. You only have to keep that under wraps for about 10 days.”

Shit—he’d already forgotten about that part, he’d been so distracted by the absolute insanity of what she’d apparently done. “How the bloody hell am I supposed to keep something like that hidden?” His mind immediately went to Snow and the very obvious protrusion of her stomach.

“You’re resourceful; you’ll figure it out.”

“Where did it even come from?” he nearly shouted, incredulous.

“The same place they all do,” she shrugged, but there was a glint of something else in her eye. “See you soon!” she farewelled, then disappeared in a cloud of green smoke, leaving him alone to figure out just what he’d gotten himself into—and what to do next.

——————————-

Part of Killian was convinced Zelena had been lying, playing some kind of cruel trick on him. Magic aside, it just didn’t seem possible. He fell into a deep slumber that night in his rented room, and the following morning, just chalked it up to an incredibly vivid dream, or perhaps the result of too much rum.

But at some point that day, he noticed a bit of nausea settle over him. He wanted to attribute it to something slightly off in Granny’s seafood special, especially when he found himself making a mad dash for the toilet around midday (making sure to take his meals at off times—hours he knew he wouldn’t see Emma there, mainly to avoid both her ire and his shame). But he’d been through his fair share of food poisoning—and this wasn’t it.

For starters, food poisoning usually ended. This, however, kept going. All that night and into the next morning. He left his room long enough to try to get something simple from Granny’s—just some bread or oatmeal—but even that wouldn’t stay down. Oddly, the only thing that sounded even vaguely palatable was sardines, of all things; he thought longingly back to the store of them on the Jolly Roger, but they were obviously inaccessible at the moment.

(He did manage to keep his stomach calm enough to run out to the convenience store and purchase some, as well as some ginger tea—and took a long, hard look at the devices that apparently verified pregnancy. However, he moved on from them; time would surely tell.)

The nausea continued to follow him through the afternoon, but the ginger tea helped a bit. Still, though, he was surprised by the urgent knock at his door that evening—the end of the second day of the 10 that Zelena had foretold—as he flushed the latest bit of bile down the toilet.

“Hook? What’s wrong?”

He blinked and stared at the door before he answered; it was Emma—and she sounded concerned. That was a far cry from their last interaction.

Slowly, he opened the door; she looked like she’d been about to knock again, and indeed, there was a worried furrow to her brow. “‘M fine, love,” he told her, though his voice tiredly betrayed him.

“Please; I’ve heard you puking all day. These walls are thin. What’s up?”

“Just drank a bit too much,” he lied, staring at the floor. (Even the thought of rum made his stomach churn.)

“You know I know that’s not true.” He had no counter to that. “Well, whatever you have going on, just—take care of yourself, okay?”

“I always do,” he threw back.

“I know.” It looked like there were a multitude of things on the tip of her tongue, but she hesitated too long to say them. “Get some rest, okay? Have a good night.”

“You too, Swan.”

She headed back into her room across the hall, but he closed his door before she went away. He didn’t know how to interpret her care versus her statements to the contrary the other day.

Besides, his stomach turned again, so he had to make another mad dash off. 

Not much later, another knock came to his door; Ruby had brought him some soup. “Heard you might need it,” she said; he had to wonder whether that was her own preternaturally strong hearing or some other voice whispering in her ear, but he was just grateful for the gesture.

Amazingly, it finally stayed down, and though the nausea lingered, he at least didn’t find himself losing anything else in the toilet. 

His sleep that night was the deepest it had been since he had arrived back in Storybrooke.

————————————-

He felt surprisingly well rested the next morning—almost normal, though there seemed to be a weight that had settled in his stomach deep within, not unlike the guilty feeling he was used to carrying around for all these centuries. Perhaps the previous days had merely been an anomaly? A stomach illness?

David stopped by during the morning and invited him out on some rounds. He had no reason to refuse, regardless of whatever Zelena may or may not have done to him, so he joined in—especially because he could see it for the olive branch it was, even if it was never specifically stated as one. 

David did seem a bit lighter than he had in days past; he said Snow and the baby were still doing well, and the fact that no one had seen the witch had them somewhat worried, but also finally felt like they could breathe for a bit.

If that was the case, then Killian had few regrets in his deal with the witch—though he hadn’t yet figured out a way to thwart her plans, especially without seeking help.

If he still needed to, at least. He wasn’t wholly convinced that she’d actually done anything to him. The only real difference he noticed in anything that day was the return of his appetite, in dramatic fashion; he was never one for gluttony, and propriety (as well as manners lessons back in the naval academy) demanded he never overindulge and eat politely, but he devoured his breakfast and lunch in record time. He was getting over a stomach bug, though—right?

Were it not for that, and the persistent dense feeling in his gut, he’d still think Zelena was messing with his head. A man giving birth? Preposterous.

However, after bathing that night, he caught something in his reflection that likely confirmed he was with child: it wasn’t significantly noticeable, but when viewed in profile, there was a curve to his belly that hadn’t been there earlier, just behind his navel. And while he could partly attribute it to the copious french fries with his dinner, the very tiny wiggles he felt inside were definitely not from digestion.

“Fuck,” he cursed. He gently traced it, knowing that this was only the beginning of what was to come. But—it would still be worth it if it meant Emma’s family was left alone.

———————————

The next morning, after another rather large breakfast, he headed to the library; Belle was still doing research on ways to thwart Zelena’s plans, so he decided to offer his aid. They’d come to a tenuous peace in the time since Neal had passed away—and, really, it was his only plan so far towards defeating the witch without revealing the reason for her sudden pause in assault.

(He may have had to loosen the laces of his vest a bit in order to avoid revealing it in other ways; his stomach was somewhat larger in the morning, but one would still have to look very closely to notice the difference.)

Belle did seem a bit surprised at his offer of help when he arrived—she said she assumed he’d be out doing reconnaissance with the Charmings—but seemed glad to have another set of eyes on the ancient tomes she’d been poring through.

After a couple hours of fruitless searching—having no particular theory on how to stop the spell, they were casting a wider net when it came to neutralizing magic—he got up to stretch his legs (and ease the bit of ache that had settled in his hips). He wandered the stacks a bit, the naval officer in him still in awe of all the knowledge they held. Perhaps someday, he’d have the time to more thoroughly peruse their contents, but he did have a somewhat ulterior motive for heading to the library today.

“The pregnancy books?” He jumped when Belle found him skimming a volume entitled What to Expect When You’re Expecting; shit.

“I’ve been…curious, is all,” he replied, quickly and bashfully. “We never had this kind of information in our realm, and with Snow…”

“I get it,” Belle replied, thankfully. “It’s overwhelming how much more they know here, isn’t it?”

“Aye,” he sighed, glad she believed his quick cover.

She just smiled when he brought it back to the table. He didn’t read it too in-depth—gods only knew he was about to devour it later, probably far too late into the night—but he did skim it and—oh no.

It just got worse and worse. He finally got to the chapter on labor, and all it entailed; all he could say was “bloody hell.” Oh, he was in for it.

Belle was reshelving books and glanced over his shoulder—and laughed. “Yeah, that was my reaction the first time I looked through it,” she told him. “What? I was curious too,” she added when he raised an eyebrow at her in question. “Good thing you won’t ever be pregnant, eh?”

He swallowed, and paused for probably too long a moment before muttering out a “Yeah, thank goodness.” Then quickly reached for another magic book and shoved the medical manual aside.

(He didn’t see Belle’s furrowed brow at the delay in his answer—or the sidelong glances at how quickly he ate his lunch.)

Sometime that afternoon, Henry popped in, inviting him to join in a sparring session with him and David out behind Granny’s. Again, he was touched, and hoped the lad didn’t notice the sudden wetness of his eyes. Were it not for that book, he’d wonder where that had come from, but apparently heightened emotions were a thing he had to look forward to.

It felt nice to get a workout, and the verbal battle between him and David as they taught Henry differing styles of fighting was just as entertaining. They were sharing a laugh when they were suddenly asked, “What’s so funny?”

He stiffened and turned, to see Emma standing off to the side, smiling at them—though it didn’t fully reach her eyes. 

“David’s idea of properly blocking a parry,” he replied. “It works fine if you’re fighting someone who plays by the rules.”

“Which I’m guessing you don’t?”

“What fun is that?” he flirted back.

Her subsequent smile (and blush) was genuine. The sudden southward rush of his blood, though, was caused by something far different—and he just hoped no one noticed it.

They put away the practice weapons and headed into the diner, but Emma grabbed his arm and held him back. “Hey, I just wanted to say—I’m sorry for what I said the other day.”

He tilted his head, confused. “Beg your pardon?”

“About not trusting you,” she clarified. “I was upset at what had just happened. You haven’t really given us any reason to doubt you; I was just jarred by everything that had happened with the witch there, and you were an easy target. But you didn’t deserve that.”

“I…” he started, but found himself speechless—and attempting to hold back tears once more. “Thank you, love,” he finally said, sounding a bit more emotional than he’d like. “I’m…I’m glad to hear that, and I hope you never have reason to doubt my intentions again.”

“I know I won’t,” she said confidently, and there was a confidence to that statement that had him in awe. 

Which made it all the worse that he was holding in—quite literally—an actual, fairly large secret. 

(Well, only about the size of a grapefruit yet, according to the book, but—semantics.)

They invited him to dine with him—not taking his weak excuse at being tired—and conversation over their meal seemed to focus on future plans, even though Snow’s imminent birth still loomed. The oddest part, though, was they seemed to automatically include him in these plans. Gods above, he appreciated it, but hopefully they wouldn’t think it too odd when he had to inevitably bow out in a couple days, if not sooner. 

He decided to get some practice in that by making an early exit from dinner. “You okay?” Emma asked, seemingly worried. 

“What, is that tap Henry gave you on the shoulder acting up?” David joked. 

“Indeed,” he played along, rubbing his left bicep in feigned emphasis. “Best rest it up.” (In truth, he was sore, but not there—more around his midsection—and he needed to get back to the book to find out why).

“See you tomorrow,” Emma said with a soft smile; he could only nod back. 

Guilt was yet again plaguing him when he returned to his room. That didn’t stop his sigh of relief, though, when he undid his vest; he felt around his stomach, and it was definitely bigger than it was this morning, though still fairly small (and therefore easy to hide).

Perhaps he had indeed been too rash when he made this deal with Zelena. As much as Emma and her family had written him off in the moment, he too had underestimated their capacity for forgiveness. But no—anything that kept them out of danger was worth it, even if he still wasn’t wholly confident in what lay ahead of him, or how to ensure the witch didn’t succeed.

As if sensing his worries, the small life within gave a strong kick, one he could almost feel from the outside. It was a solid reminder that there was no going back on this.

He just hoped he could get through it with little issue.

—————————————————–

thank you so much for reading! tagging a few: @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook @mathiaskejseren @88infinity88

[hyunip]

ℳ 𝒶 𝓈 𝓉 ℯ 𝓇 𝓁 𝒾 𝓈 𝓉：AOT

Onyankopon//Cloud 9 High (pt.2 of distraction), Flight To The Clouds, Distraction, Patience, Call The Doctor, Distraction pt.3, Ex Men, 2 Women 2 Men, Those Eyes

Eren//Princess Peach, Lips Of A Drug, Princess Peach pt.2, Mommy, Best Friend, Myths, Crystal Tears Over The Phone, Ex Men, Creature, Nasty, In My Mouth, Princess Peach pt.2

Armin//Good Luck Charm, Future Angels, Gentleman, Bitch, Secrets, Future Angels pt.2, Sleep Talkin’, Level Up, Strip, Billion Dollar Woman, Irresistible Pleasure, Ex Men, Killer Stare

Connie//Say My Name, Weed, Wolve's Attack, Needed Me, Heaven, Love Me Until I'm Sore, Bitch Boy, Mommy And Daddy, Ex Men, 2 Women 2 Men, Brainy Baby, Fuck You: Left

Ymir//Angels In Tibet, Private Sessions, Angles, Gentleman, Pinky Pie, Slut Me Out, Money Talks, "Golden" Daughter, Soft Heart, Ex Men, 2 Women 2 Men, Trouble Mama, Focused

ℳ 𝒶 𝓈 𝓉 ℯ 𝓇 𝓁 𝒾 𝓈 𝓉：J J K

Choso// Class In Session, Approval, Marriage Plans, Fairytale, A Whore In Love, Momma He's Not The One, Chills, Cold glare, Hot Summer Days, Weed And Giggles, Myths, Ex Men, Breakfast In Bed

Gojo// Interest, Gentlemen, A Whore In Love, Be Gentle I'm Sore, Tears Of Gold, Ex Men, Texts, Horrified Kisses, Hot Chocolate, Breakfast In Bed, Scratch My Back, Dinner

Nanami// Speed City, Gentlemen, Ice Ice Baby, Christmas Gift, Happy Belated Birthday, Daddy Energy, Ex Men, Hop Skip And Jump, Slow Down, Swin, Hot Tub Fun, Pain, Cry For Me, Ex Husband, In and Out

Todo// Model Babe, Timing, Ex Men, Fireman, A Secret, Bubbles, Shower, Handy Helper, Kitchen Chronicles, Messy, Your Problems Are Mine, Baby By Me, Reflect And Forgive, Mystery Mother Fucker,

[tawus]

LKDJSLDDJHSJKHUSHDKJSHVIUSHFJKSNVJKSBJKVSUHFUSDHJSFHJSHVKJSHFKJSHJSHFUIEPEIQFIOEUJDCKJFHEIUHKCBJHDUBCDVHJKSNKJEHJXCNDKJHIUHUKVHUSUYWGRUEKBKJSNCJMJIUWHKBHSFBJHSGIDHSFHDHUHQIUDHWIUDHIUHDIUQHDIUHQDIUQHDIUDHQKDHKQHDIUQHDUIQUHDDJBKJWDBJKBDJKQBJVOHWIURYEOQJRIWHWUIFIWUWUHSZNCJBSIFHOIJDFOUW

OH MY GOD! This year has been a rollercoaster for me. Mid-terms were kicking my butt, I attended my grandfather’s funeral, then finals showed up out of nowhere to drag me back to hell. I apologize in advance for the grammar. 😣

Edit however you like, I won't mind and I hope that you enjoy reading~! :D

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY TO TAWUS & SATORU~<3

It was the day after Christmas, December 25th, 2017. Geto Suguru’s death was confirmed and you can help but feel a heavy burden in the air despite the freshly romantic season.

Now, you’re sitting in front of Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer of the modern era, who’s also your husband. Eating lunch with your lover seems to be the same as it generally goes. He was rambling on and on about trying new sweets for the upcoming new year. It seemed as if the death of Geto didn’t affect him as much, but you knew better. 

Back when he came home, he just leaned into you, holding you tight. Like a child clinging onto their mother and never wanting to let go. 

You held him for the rest of the night as you both slept. Giving him the love, kisses, cuddles, and healing that he wants, deserves and needs. You don’t comment on the droplets of water that shimmer like starlight as they dampen your shirt in the moonlight. Neither his pupils, that were empty like the void. Silent love comforted the both of you as you bathed in each other’s tender embrace on that somber night. 

After a few hours of needed slumber, it seemed like last night's waterworks didn’t happen at all. The man in front of you was acting jolly as usual.

“-be? Babe? You there? Oooooiiiiii~?”

“Huh? What?”

“So you weren’t listening to me. I know that you find me captivating and all but you still shouldn’t space out like that when you're listening to someone sweetheart~. Especially if it’s your one and only lover~<3.”

You don’t need him to take off his bandages when you know full well that he’s wiggling his eyebrows underneath them. Letting out a sigh as you chuckled to yourself. His boasting can be cocky at times, but you can’t help but find it endearing. If anything it’s that suave voice of his that can be irritating.

“Sorry about that Satoru, I was just thinking of …… some things. That’s all.”

“Oh~? And what might that be my beloved?”

Satoru noticed that you were feeling a bit nervous but he lets you take your time to speak as he motions his body language to encourage you to tell him what’s on your mind. 

“Here. I–I know that it’s already past your birthday and I know it’s late but I wasn’t going to wait for another year to pass by to give you this. Yes, I know that I made cake for you but it felt like I didn’t exactly give you my full efforts. So I made you these instead.” 

You took out a black blindfold that had an initial mark that’s stitched bold. On the outside of the fabric it had the name of the person receiving the gift in Kanji, 五条悟. 

“Is that? *LE GASP~* Babe! I didn’t realize that you were into that! Oh you naughty little–~”

“Oh my gosh! It’s not like that at all you idiot! I’ve been seeing that you’ve only been using bandages to cover up six-eyes. Putting those bandages on and off again must’ve been tiring and time consuming for you to do that. So I’ve decided to make a blindfold for you to help you with your troubles.”

Getting up, walking over to your husband, you took off the bandages that he wore and put the handmade gift over his head. Nuzzling the fabric to cover his eyes and forehead, combing his hair with your fingers to lift it out his vision of sight. He looked like a paint brush now, you’re not gonna lie.

“The fabric is a mix between polyester & cotton. I did some research on the differences between both fabrics. Turns out while polyester is stronger and a more stretchable fabric than cotton, cotton is more breathable. The pros of both fabrics is that they’re both hydrophobic. Both fabrics were good so I had to go to a store that sold a cotton-polyester blend roll of both fabrics to make this blindfold. I’ve … also made you these gloves.” (Got inspired by the 3rd Picture)

You took out a pair of dark gray gloves, designed with vertical ripple line patterns that went down between each knuckle. A fancy classic wrist strap connected on top with a silver ring to hold the strap. Cladding your beloved's hands, you felt his warm touch and saw the apparent veins as evidence of his hard work as the strongest. Taking a step back to admire the gloves on his person, you put your hands on your hips feeling quite proud of your handcrafted achievements despite not having his opinion yet. 

“So? How is it? Comfortable? Does it fit you well? Are your eyes feeling alright? What about the gloves? Are they too tight? I know that you aren’t allergic to polyester so it shouldn’t be itchy. I did quite the research on what kind of fabric to use when I was making these gloves you know. I had to go to a sewing class in advance during spring if I wanted to make these gloves myself. Making them was easy either.”

A sigh escapes your lips as you massage your wrists and hands as you recall the memories of minor injuries and the use of many mini Sanrio bandages.

“You don’t have to use them when you go on the battlefield to exorcise curse spirits. That’s not exactly what they were made for but it’s up to you on how you want to use them. I just wanted to give them to you before the year was over.”

Thank you for this incredible submission and gifts for Satoru! 🤩❤️ As always I’m happy to collab with you on these, please feel free to send more for future holidays too. And no need for apologies, I made the most minimal brush-ups and I just added a bit of an ending with Satoru’s reaction to his presents, I hope you like it 🥰

Hey, still you persevered through 2023! And I’m really sorry for your loss, I lost my grandfather a couple of years ago too. Here’s to healing and a better 2024. Almost no one is out there saying 2024 is gonna be their year anymore lol, but here I am thinking it will be mine 😆

It was the day after Christmas, December 26th, 2017. Geto Suguru’s death was confirmed and you can’t help but feel a heavy burden in the air despite the freshly romantic season.

Now, you’re sitting in front of Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer of the modern era, who’s also your husband. Eating lunch with your lover seems to go the same as it generally does. He was rambling on and on about trying new sweets for the upcoming New Year. It seemed as if the death of Geto didn’t affect him as much. But you knew better.

Back when he came home, he just leaned into you and held you tight. Like a child clinging to their mother, never wanting to let go.

You held him for the rest of the night as you both slept. Giving him the love, kisses, cuddles, and healing that he wanted, deserved and needed. You don’t comment on the droplets that shimmer like starlight as they dampen your shirt in the moon’s glow. Neither on his pupils, which were empty like the void. Silent love comforted the both of you as you bathed in each other’s tender embrace on that somber night.

After a few hours of needed slumber, it seemed like last night's waterworks didn’t happen at all. The man in front of you was acting jolly as usual.

“-be? Babe? You there? Oooooiiiiii~?”

“Huh? What?”

“So you weren’t listening to me. I know you find me captivating and all but you still shouldn’t space out like that when you're listening to someone sweetheart~. Especially if it’s your one and only lover~<3.”

You don’t need him to take off his bandages to know he’s wiggling his brows under them. You let out a sigh as you chuckled to yourself. His boasting can be cocky at times, but you can’t help but find it endearing. If anything it’s that suave voice of his that can be irritating…

“Sorry about that Satoru, I was just thinking of …… some things. That’s all.”

“Oh~? And what might that be, my beloved?”

Satoru notices that you’re feeling a bit nervous, but he lets you take your time to speak and encourages you with his body language to tell him what’s on your mind.

“Here. I–I know that it’s already past your birthday and I know it’s late, but I wasn’t going to wait another year to give you this. Yes I know I made a cake for you, but it felt like I didn’t exactly give you my full efforts. So I made you these instead.”

You took out a black blindfold, which had a mark stitched on it in bold. On the outside of the fabric it had the name of the person receiving the gift in Kanji, 五条悟.

“Is that? *LE GASP~* Babe! I didn’t realize you were into that! Oh you naughty little–~”

“Oh my gosh! It’s not like that at all, you idiot! I’ve been seeing you use bandages to cover up the Six Eyes. Putting those bandages on and off must be tiring, not to mention time-consuming. So I decided to make a blindfold for you to help you with your troubles…”

Getting up, walking over to your husband, you took off the bandages that he wore and put the handmade gift over his head. You nuzzled the fabric to cover his eyes and forehead, and combed his hair back with your fingers to lift it out his sight. He somewhat resembled a paintbrush now, if you were honest.

“The fabric is a mix between polyester and cotton. I did some research on both. Turns out, while polyester is stronger and more stretchable than cotton, cotton is more breathable. The pros of both fabrics is that they’re both hydrophobic, they won’t shrink when wet. Both were good so I had to find a store that sold a cotton-polyester blend roll to make this blindfold. I’ve … also made you these gloves.”

You took out a pair of dark gray gloves, designed with vertical ripple line patterns that went down between each knuckle. A classic wrist strap connected on top with a silver ring to hold the strap. Pulling them on your beloved's hands, you felt his warm touch and saw the apparent veins as evidence of his hard work as the strongest. Taking a step back to admire the gloves on his person, you put your hands on your hips feeling quite proud of your handcrafted achievements despite not having his opinion just yet.

“So? How is it? Comfortable? Does it fit you well? Are your eyes feeling all right? What about the gloves? Are they too tight? I know you aren’t allergic to polyester so it shouldn’t be itchy. I did quite the research on what kind of fabric to use when I was making the gloves too, you know. I had to go to a sewing class in advance during spring if I wanted to make these gloves myself. Making them wasn’t easy either...”

You sigh lightly as you massage your wrists and hands, recalling the memories of minor injuries and the use of countless mini Sanrio bandages.

“You don’t have to use them when you go on the battlefield to exorcise curse spirits. That’s not exactly what they were made for but it’s up to you on how you want to use them. I just wanted to give them to you before the year was over...”

It only now struck you how quiet he’d been all this while.

“Sorry, I seem to have rambled…” you peer out at him gingerly, as a worry tugs at your heart that maybe he hates your presents, after all. That maybe he considers them pointless. Maybe he’s thinking he could buy himself a million of those if he wanted...

But not a second before you lift your head that you get crushed in a tight hug – the kind where Satoru forgets how strong he is and nearly suffocates you with his love. He doesn’t hear your muffled pleas for air since his own voice is booming through the room.

“BABYYY! I love them! I can’t believe you made them yourself! I want to wear them every day! But also never, because what if they tear? Oh wait no, I’ll protect them with Infinity! But what if someone still manages to tear one of them during a fight? I’d have to grind them to dust obviously, but will you mend them for me? I’ll ask Shoko to heal your hands from all the boo-boos! But still, I can’t believe you made them for me! You must really love me! Although you did already tell me like a year ago you love me... But this is, this is like, living proof!”

Evidently it was his turn to ramble now, so it took him a while to finally release you from his bear hug and place his gloved hands instead on your cheeks, holding your face close.

“Thank you.”

It was only two words now that left his beautiful lips, nothing more, but the deep heartfelt emotion with which he said them, in a voice only for you to hear, made them worth a million.

Feeling for yourself the tenderness of the gloves, sensing him conduct his warmth into you through them, and not seeing but feeling his wide-open eyes behind the blindfold you’d made for him – happiness overwhelmed you. Tears filled your eyes and you grinned as wide as your mouth would allow.

“I’m really glad you like them, Satoru.”

[soumako-week]

Soumako Week '23: The Ultimate List of Submissions!

@soumako-week may have come to and end, but we are very happy and grateful for the response to the event and for all the support. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE! 🥰💕 Seeing as the soumako fandom is clearly still alive and kicking, we'd like to take this opportunity to encourage everyone to keep following our account. Who knows, it may be repurposed as a soumako-event hub in the future. 😉

To make all of the (36 37!! 😮) amazing works that were submitted over the last couple of days more easily accessible, we've lovingly collected all of their links for you below!

💚 Day #1 (College & Missing Scenes) 💚

✔️ College, a fanfic by DarkPhoenixsQuill

✔️ College, a fanfic by @ladyodaskonpeito

✔️ Untitled, artwork by @haikalikkart

✔️ Voids to be filled, a playlist by @sweetheavenfics [=> also on Twitter]

🖤 Day #2 (Physical Therapy & Secret Crush) 🖤

✔️ Naughty & Informative, a collage by JoshKel87270504

✔️ On Thursdays, we pine, a fanfic by @bananacanwrites [=> also on Twitter & AO3]

✔️ Physical Therapy, a fanfic by DarkPhoenixsQuill

✔️ Physical Therapy, a fanfic by @ladyodaskonpeito

✔️ Reading the signs, a fanfic by @sweetheavenfics [=> also on Twitter & AO3]

✔️ “Secret” crush, artwork by @haikalikkart [=> also on Twitter]

💚 Day #3 (Games & Missed Chances) 💚

✔️ Again, you, a fanfic by @bananacanwrites [=> also on Twitter & AO3]

✔️ Games, artwork by @haikalikkart [=> also on Twitter]

✔️ Missed Chances, a fanfic by DarkPhoenixsQuill

✔️ Missed Chances, a fanfic by @ladyodaskonpeito

🖤 Day #4 (Happy Birthday, Sousuke!) 🖤

✔️ Happy birthday, Sousuke!, a fanfic by @ladyodaskonpeito

✔️ Happy (belated) birthday to Sousuke, artwork by @bringmemyqueen [=> also on Twitter]

✔️ Hbd babe, artwork by @bananacanwrites [=> also on Twitter]

✔️ Soosk day, artwork by @iskabee

✔️ Sousuke’s Birthday, a fanfic by DarkPhoenixsQuill

✔️ The one where Makoto bakes a cake, a fanfic by @sweetheavenfics [=> also on Twitter & AO3]

💚 Day #5 (Alternate Universe & Roommates) 💚

✔️ Alternate Universe, a fanfic by @ladyodaskonpeito

✔️ Blurring the edges, a fanfic by @museaway [=> also on Twitter & AO3]

✔️ Day 5, artwork by Ivertoa

✔️ Living Together, a collage by JoshKel87270504

✔️ Roommates, a fanfic by DarkPhoenixsQuill

✔️ The good old knight and his king au, artwork by @haikalikkart [=> also on Twitter]

🖤 Day #6 (Free) 🖤

✔️ Blue-tongued Babe, an E-rated fanfic by @bananacanwrites [=> also on Twitter]

✔️ Blurring the edges, a playlist by @museaway

✔️ Congratulations, a fanfic by @ladyodaskonpeito [=> also on AO3]

✔️ Day 6, artwork by Ivertoa

✔️ Untitled, artwork by @iskabee

💚 Day #7 (Wedding & The Future) 💚

✔️ Golden Hour, artwork by @haikalikkart [=> also on Twitter]

✔️ Holiday Pics, a NSFW collage by JoshKell87270504

✔️ Imperfect Perfection, a fanfic by @leavescrown [=> also on AO3]

✔️ The Future, a fanfic by @ladyodaskonpeito

✔️ Wedding/Future, a fanfic by DarkPhoenixQuill

✔️ Soumako Prompts College, PT, Roommates & Wedding by @bringmemyqueen [=> also on Twitter, with crops!]

Psst! If we missed something or made a mistake somewhere, please let us know so we can fix it ASAP. 🙏

[kaleldobrev]

I missed your birthday ! 🥺

Here, I come bearing gifts :

Isn't he adorable ?

Happy (belated) birthday 😘😘

THANK YOU SO MUCH BABE 🥺💓

(It’s only 9pm here so I got 3 more hours so you’re still on the same day! 💓)

A happy smiling Dean for my birthday is definitely the best present anyone could ask for 🥰

Thank you! 😘

[sublimecatgalaxy]

I’ve arrived;)

hi bestie, i figured i’d come and throw in a request for you since i realized it’s been AWHILE since i requested something.

recently i’ve been a little bit too interested with billy hargrove fics pfft but i wanted to mix two things from the prompt list and wanted to see your take with it:)

22

and

10

thought it’d be cute haha

- duck<3

I love you and happy belated birthday!! This is good cuz I need to write someone who I can actually picture in my numb ass head.

"Billy what did you do?" Max asks, gasping as she steps into the doorway, looking between Billy and I as I hold the towel firmly to my nose. "Why is there blood?" The red head steps into the room with fierceness in her eyes as she glares at her older brother. My eyes flutter shut in frustration and Billy cringes a sorry smile, looking up at Max.

"We were just messin' around. My elbow recoiled and hit her in the face." He mutters bashfully, his cheeks dusting with a gentle pink, his eyes looking to me. I pull the towel away from my face with a groan and the siblings audibly gasp at the sight of my nose, forcing my eyes to roll.

"I'm fine, Max. Your brother can't handle someone tickling him apparently." I snort but it sends a shooting pain through my face, tears pricking my eyes at the stinging pain. Billy reaches over to shove me playfully but then immediately places his hands on my shoulders, stabilizing me, realizing he probably shouldn't rough me up anymore than he already has. "He hasn't even apologized." Max clears her throat at my words, reaching out to whack Billy on the side of the head before looking to me, urging him to apologize.

"I’m not sorry for what I did to you." He sighs, not meeting my eyes as I snicker under my breath, sending a wink to Max as she backs away. "Thanks for your help, brat!" Billy calls as Max steps out of the room, closing the door behind her. "I'm sorry." He mutters, reaching out to rest his hand on my upper thigh with a small laugh. "I completely deserve any punishment you can come up with." He has a glint of mischief in his eyes and my whole body warms but it's quickly cooled by the throbbing coming from my nose.

Suddenly a lightbulb flashes above me and I grin wickedly, forcing Billy's brows to raise in fearful confusion.

"No sex-"

"Nope, not that, anything but that-"

"You said any punishment. You probably bruised my nose, now enjoy the bruising sensation of blue balls babe." I reach out to pat his chest and he bats me away, pouting gently with a pathetic huff. "Nope, puppy dog eyes aren’t going to work this time. So take me to urgent care and buy me candy, alright?" He mutters a 'fine' under his breath before pressing a kiss to my forehead.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane2828 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi

@crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @minjix @luvrosee @storytellingwitht

[playgrl0]

happy birthday / mikey

"happy birthday, baby!" you shout and throw some confetti at mikey when he enters your shared apartment. a big, beautiful grin spreads onto his face, which instantly transfers onto yours. he takes his shoes off, picks you up and spins you around. "thank you babe." he puts you back down and pecks your lips a few times. "come with me, i made dinner for you." you take his hand and walk over to the kitchen. you put up some cute decoration, balloons, a few flowers, candles and confetti and you of course, made his favorite food. mikey pouts a little "this is so sweet of you y/n-chin. you didn't have to!" "but i wanted to! sit down." he sits down and watches how you fix a plate of food for him, his smile never leaving his pretty face. "here you go, i hope it tastes good." you're both eating, talking, laughing and sharing small pecks every once in a while. "the food was amazing, baby. thank you." "i'm glad you liked it."

at the end of the evening, mikey's already in bed while you're still getting ready. you come out of the bathroom with a small box behind your back. "mikey! i have another gift for you." you sit next to him. "another one? you already gave me so much more than i could've ever asked for." you give him the box. "you deserve everything, my love. open it." he can't suppress the smile while opening the small box. once it's open his eyes widen a little and he slightly gasps. it's a small golden bracelet with a small golden plated circle charm and a "25" engraved into it. 25 is the day you both got together. "help me put it on." you put it on for him and he pulls you into a tight hug. "do you like it?" you nervously ask. "i love it, it's beautiful, thank you." he pulls away and takes your face into his hands. "i love you." he says after pecking your lips. "i love you too. i know it's nothing speacial but i thought it would be cute." "are you crazy? it is special. i'll never take this off again. he pecks your forehead. "im glad you like it. we should sleep, it's late and you had a long day." you say quietly while running a hand through his hair.

he pushes you onto your back and hovers over you, hands on each side beside your head and a knee in between your legs. he places a few kisses on your jaw, down your neck and back up until he reaches your ear. "i have a gift for you too, baby." he whispers and bites your earlobe softly.

a/n: happy belated birthday manjiro! my insane lil meow meow 😭💕 also, i hope y'all understood how the bracelet's supposed to look like. i genuinely suck at describing things especially cuz english isn't my first language lmao.

<3 @ playgrl0

[madamescarlette]

WAIT EDEN WAIT SHIT I FORGOT TO SEND YOU A BIRTHDAY MESSAGE I SAW IT WAS YOUR BIRTHDAY AND THOUGHT OH I SHOULD DO THAT AND THEN IT IMMEDIATELY SLIPPED MY MIND WAIT WAIT ok happy birthday!!!! happiest happiest of birthdays!!! albeit belated!!! babes I just love you so much you don't even KNOW you are a joy to know I hope your next year is full of wonder and loves and the Horrors vanish away into a half-forgotten memory <3<3<3<3<3

:))))) THANK YOU MY DEAR DARLING GRACIE I love you very much you absolute delight!! I will not lie, I love belated birthday messages so much because they make me keep living my birthday for even longer, and I'll always take the chance to make things about Me, everyone's favoritest most blessed girl (/j). This year is looking up in the way that life always returns so I'm full of hope! There's such joy and light and truth in my life just by the sheer act of knowing you and I'm so grateful all the time!! Bless you thank you!

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖