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ode2rin · 10 months

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US, AGAIN .ೃ

pairing. itoshi sae x gn!reader

genre. second chance (exes back to lovers!) | a bit of small town romance | a sprinkle of childhood friends to lovers (past) | angst with a happy ending

in which: itoshi sae returns to the only place on earth he vows to never set foot again.

💭 flashbacks are italicized and indented :>

Six years.

In those six long years of his absence, you couldn't deny that you rehearsed countless scenarios of encountering him upon his return.

If by chance he still wanted to see you, or even look at you, you imagined giving him a small smile, a carefully crafted facade of composure, before gracefully walking away, as if life had moved on effortlessly for both of you.

That’s what you imagined. Just walk away, like how life went on for the both of you.

But reality never seemed to align with your reveries. The sight of him wasn't remotely serene enough to prompt a composed exit. Seeing him made your throat tighten, and your heart danced in a rhythm only he could create.

Six damn years had passed since you last saw him on that balcony, and now, with him back in town, avoiding him seemed like the only right thing to do.

You don’t know how long he’ll be here, but it is now your life mission to avoid him at all cost. Today's encounter was just an unfortunate event—an inevitable twist of fate. Their house was literally right in front of your family's, making it hard to escape the nearness of the past.

“So, he’s back in town?”

Hari's voice, your co-worker and now a dear friend, snapped you back from the reverie of yesterday's memories. The sound of her voice broke through the nostalgic haze, pulling you back to the present.

“What?”

“I asked if your childhood friend who is also a superstar slash professional athlete slash your only ex is back,” she mischievously asked, even miming quotation marks to emphasize each title she created.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head at her antics. Your gaze drifted to the freshly baked pastries, their delightful aroma greeting your senses like a warm embrace as you artfully displayed them on the shelves. The familiar scent of coffee and delightful confections used to calm you, but now it mingled with the storm of emotions inside.

“Yeah, it's basically the talk of the town. He's famous after all,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant and still focused on your work, using it as a shield to hide your vulnerability.

But in reality, the sight of him earlier had caught you off guard, and you had turned the other way to avoid him. Your heart was still racing from the almost encounter, and the comforting ambiance of your coffee shop provided little solace.

“Did he see you?”

“I pray to all saints that he didn’t,” you deadpanned, your facade of composure beginning to falter.

“What did he look like now?”

You hesitated, your mind flashing back to that fleeting glimpse of him earlier.

Far from what was once mine. “Good.”

“That’s it? Good?”

No. He looked gorgeous. He looked painfully gorgeous.

“What do you want me to say?” you countered, throwing a side glance to her persistence.

In that fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of how much he had changed. He looked undeniably handsome, lean, and with a certain maturity that hadn't been there before.

He… looked different.

And that's good—for you and for him. It meant that life there treated him well, and it eased some of the lingering guilt you carried.

You and Hari fell into a consuming silence, your backs turned away from each other. Even with closed eyes, you sensed that she wanted to ask something. You didn't want to initiate the conversation, but this suffocating silence had to go.

As you stepped behind the counter, you were met with Hari's concerned eyes and a voice laden with hesitation. “What are you going to do then?” she carefully asked.

You pressed your lips together, momentarily at a loss for words.

So you did what you do best: mask hurting with laughter.

“Is there anything I should do?” you paused, the sound of your fake laughter ringing in your ears. “It's been years. We made a choice.”

But Hari wasn't ready to let the matter rest, and you don’t know how to tell her you’re close to calling it a day. “You made a choice for him,” she countered gently, her tone filled with empathy.

Stunned was an understatement. Caught off guard would be an apt description. But speechless was exactly how you felt.

That, you couldn't mask with anything.

So you did what you weren’t best at: admitting the truth.

“And I’ll do it again,” you whispered in return. It was faint, because it was more for you than more of a reply to her.

You were both young, and half oblivious to what it would be like outside, where the world wasn’t painted in golden hues and the gentle waves were replaced by blaring cars.

You were both seventeen, young and living for the hope of it all.

But you lived for days like those – days where both of you just had to be kids still. No worries, no voices of what might come.

“Tell me about your dreams, Sae.” “Tch. You already know about it.”

You did. All of it, you knew. Since you were kids, no one knew him like you did. You were his lover and confidant. You knew about it, all too well and all too much.

“Come on!” you persisted, giving him an enthusiastic look. “The sky looks so pretty in this sunset, I want it to know about us.” The setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over the beach as you and Sae sat side by side in the sand. The sound of gentle waves caressed your ears, creating a serene backdrop for your beach date. He hesitated for a moment, looking out at the horizon. Then there it was, a glint of determination flashed in his usually reserved eyes. “To be the best striker in the world.” You couldn't help but be captivated by the sight. It was the first time you had seen such an unusual spark in his eyes. Sae's gaze was often cold and impersonal, but now it was as if stars were hanging in his eyes, reflecting the infinite possibilities of his dreams. Sae is handsome, mysteriously beautiful even. But this, nothing will beat how dreamy he looks when he speaks of his craft. You liked this look on him - so ambitious, so driven. It made your heart flutter with admiration. Seeing this glint in his eyes right now, you knew you wanted to do anything in your power to let it stay there.

And you did, you held on and held out. Until you turned nineteen, when you had let him go to the big cities where he rightfully belonged.

You smiled, a genuine, heartwarming smile, and leaned in to press a tender kiss on his cheek. “I’m sure you will be the best.”

Maybe you bit off more than what you could chew, but in the end, you’d do it all over again. Because what you did, the choice you made – it was for the best.

You were both nineteen, young and eager to grasp the world's offerings with hopeful hands.

But despite the certainty you tried to hold onto, there were nights when the memories tugged at your heartstrings like it did now. You knew it was the right choice, that you both needed to chase your dreams separately — especially his dreams. But it didn't erase the whispers of what-ifs that occasionally crept into your mind.

But life — life went on. Life never waits for anyone, anyway. And so, you worked diligently to craft a future that no longer had room for regrets.

But love leaves echoes, and his presence back in town stirred those dormant feelings. With him being in the same place, you felt like a stranger in your own town.

It was easier when he was thousands of miles away, an untouchable star on a different horizon. But now, with the universe conspiring to bring you close again, you couldn't help but feel like a wanderer in the galaxy of memories you built together.

After all, everything here in this town is about you and him.

Six years.

Was it that long? He couldn’t really tell. Maybe time really does pass fast when your life is falling apart.

It has been six years since Sae has sat on the balcony of his childhood home. And like the sick bastard fate was, he’s welcomed by the sight of your horrified yet still so damn fucking beautiful face.

Perhaps the saints you prayed to didn’t hear any of your pleas, because despite calling out to each one, Sae saw you.

There you were, a flicker in the periphery of his vision, desperately trying to avoid him. He was trained to be very aware of his field of vision, so there was no way he wasn’t able to notice your frantic leaving and the hurried closing of your house’s door as you noticed him.

He let you be, holding back the overwhelming desire to call out your name like he used to when both of you were running late to class. He let you be, because if you were to ask him, he wouldn’t know how to look you in the eye without a thousand words reflecting on his own.

[Attention, everyone. This is the final boarding call for passengers of flight 924 to Madrid, Spain. Again, this is the final –] “Sae, you’re going to miss your flight. They’re not coming.” No. “They’re not coming, Sae. You have to get on the plane.” No. No. Shut up.

He needed you there, more than anyone. A thousand people could cheer and show up for Itoshi Sae, but his eyes will always search the crowd for just one — just yours.

Yet, alas, you were nowhere to be found. And so, that very same day, Sae vowed to never come back to this place.

He hated this town and you, he’s convinced.

Sae had always been indifferent to a lot of people, everyone knew that. But never in a hundred years would anyone who knew you both think you’d be on that list. And deep down, he didn’t want to believe it either – until that day you decided not to show up when you promised you would.

He wasn't stupid. He had an inkling of why you did what you did. Yet, irrationality overpowered reason, and all he wanted that day was to run the distance between the airport and your house – to see your face, to remind you that he had plans, plans for both of you.

When Sae’s manager informed him that he needed to come home for a while to renew his passport, it was as if all of his suppressed recollections of this place – of you, came pouring out to his soul all at once.

Every street, every corner, every memory — they all threatened to consume him. His family, Rin, this town, and you – you were all the things he left behind for the dream.

Dream. Best Striker in the world. What did it even mean? Long ago, he thought he knew.

But it had to work. Everything had to work. He lost you for this dream. And if he loses it too, then what does that make him? A sore failure. And Sae was never known to be admissible to failing.

Whatever hell he encountered on the other side of the world, he swore he would never return home. Even when he was traversing across a path to ruin of being the person he thought he would be, he would never ever choose to come home.

Anywhere, but here. Anywhere, but home.

So there he was, the renowned glorious prodigy of japan. He was close to everything after countless mishaps.

He’s getting closer and closer to the new dream yet getting farther and farther away from home.

Home. What does it even mean? Lately, he doesn’t even know.

And after that day, no one ever mentioned your name to him. No one in his new world knew about you. No one knew how Itoshi Sae's world used to revolve around someone's soft smiles and easy eyes.

He never asked anyone not to mention you; he wasn't one to ask, after all. But for some reason, no one dared to. Not even Rin. It was as if one mention of you in his presence was a carefully crafted brick used to make his castles crumble to the ground.

He hated that, but maybe they were right. Because with just a second's worth of a glimpse of you from earlier, Sae indeed felt his castles crumbling, piece by piece.

He hates you, for making his resolve crumble. For being the one person who can make his vow to never look back fall apart.

He hates you, because everything in this forsaken place is about you and him. Memories of your shared youth are etched into the very walls and streets, haunting him like ghosts of a past he can't escape.

He hates you, for not trusting you two would work it out somehow, and for giving up before the game even began.

He hates you, because it was easier that way. Easier to pretend he didn't care, that you didn't matter, and that you were just another soul he knows a little too much of.

Sae could go on and on listing a hundred more, and yet he knows, only one of it was true – and that he hates you for making him convince himself that he does, just to cope with leaving half of his heart to the only place he vowed never to come back to.

It was a jinx to say that yesterday’s encounter was already an unfortunate event, because today, you literally learned a whole new degree of unfortunate and unlucky – by having Itoshi Sae as your first customer of the day.

“Welcome! How may I help you toda— S-Sae.”

And to even top it off, today was Hari’s day off. It meant that you’re currently alone in the same confined four-cornered room with the person you swore you would avoid like it’s your life mission.

Damn it, Hari. Of all days. Her day off really had to be today.

Itoshi Sae, in the goddamn flesh, is standing in your place two meters away from you, yet you’re having a hard time feeling your feet on the ground and your heart beating so damn loud.

He wasn’t looking at you (thank god), and had his eyes exploring the place with a neutral expression playing on his face. Suddenly, you feel like sixteen again back when he was looking at the first set of cookies you’ve ever baked and you were dying to hear what he thinks of your craft.

“It’s yours?”

You gulp.

You gulped down the urge to tear up with how much his voice changed. You gulped down the urge to cry because he assumed you had your dream turn into reality too.

“Yeah,” you replied in whisper, your eyes following where he was looking, trying to avoid any chance it will meet his, “it’s not much but —”

“It’s beautiful.” Even before Sae could hear your meek comment of yourself, he cut you off.

You were always like that —downplaying your hard work, belittling yourself even before someone does. He hated that about you.

He used to get mad at you for it, especially when someone made fun of you at school and you didn’t defend yourself. He always makes you cry whenever he points it out, so he stopped. Instead, he made it his role to rebuild your confidence. Sae wasn't known for being generous in compliments. It would probably take one hand to count all the instances that he genuinely called someone along the lines of not dumb, stupid, lukewarm.

But it was never the case with you. With you, to say beautiful was always a second nature to Sae's tongue.

And he wasn’t lying though. Your coffee shop was really charmingly cozy, and so like you. It’s so much alike to what you used to tell him how you envisioned it would be.

The coffee shop was a quaint haven nestled right at the edge of the sandy shore. Its exterior, adorned with weathered wooden panels and soft, warm hues, exuded a rustic charm that welcomed passersby with open arms. Sunlight spilled through large windows, casting gentle rays that danced upon the vintage, mosaic-tiled floor.

It’s beautiful, and it’s in front of our place. He wanted to say to you, but he stopped at beautiful not wanting to make things more awkward than it should.

The coffee shop, it’s right in front of the beach. It’s in front of that one spot you and him used to call ours.

It’s the first thing he noticed before coming inside, and it made him wonder whether you knew or he’s the only one who remembers it even now.

Bashful, you uttered a silent thank you to his remark, “What would you like to order?” you followed up, trying to maintain composure despite your heart racing in your chest.

Noticing that he’s been too silent for someone who’s about to order something, you looked up to your menu, and immediately, you understood his silence. If one were to point out, it is too immediate for someone who’s almost strangers to each other.

“We have non-caffeinated drinks too,” you hurriedly said to him, your voice quivering slightly as you tried to break the spell of awkward silence.

He gulps, his eyes locked with yours in a moment that felt like eternity.

He can’t drink coffee, it ruins his body clock, and you knew that. You still know that.

It appears that he's not the only one who remembers, after all.

A thousand emotions danced in his eyes, each one a testament to the love that once blossomed between you. The coffee shop, once a quaint haven, now felt like a crucible of emotions, and the atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, heavy with the weight of what could have been.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you couldn't look away, despite the rush of memories and unspoken words flooding your mind. It was as if time had folded in on itself, and you were once again those young souls who found solace in each other's presence.

But this was different, much more complicated. The past was a turbulent sea, and even though you had both moved on with your lives, there was still a deep, lingering connection that couldn't be severed.

Yet, you knew better than to let those emotions take control. You made a choice, you have to stand by it.

You were no longer the naive teenagers who believed love could conquer all. Reality had taught you both harsh lessons, and the wounds of the past still lingered, threatening to reopen with each stolen glance.

“I’ll have your best seller of it then,” he finally broke the silence, his voice steady despite the tempest inside.

With a nod, you turned to prepare his order, your hands trying to steady themselves. You couldn't help but wonder if he noticed the tremor in your fingers or the way your heart seemed to echo in every beat.

As you handed him his drink, your fingertips brushed lightly against his hand, and for a brief moment, the world stood still.

He took the cup from you, and for a fleeting moment, you both lingered, almost as if neither of you wanted to let go. He could stay in this, playing pretend. Pretend none of it happened, pretend he never left, pretend it worked out in the end.

But he can’t, not when you stepped back first, breaking the contact between you and reminding him of the choice you made.

“Thank you,” he managed to say, his voice softer now, filled with a hint of something even he couldn't quite decipher.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

And just like that, the moment passed, slipping through your fingers like sand. He turned to leave, and you watched him walk away, every step taking him farther from the life you once shared.

Perhaps, in some parallel universe, there existed a version of you who chose differently, who stayed intertwined with him in a tale of love that defied all odds. But here, in this reality, both of you were no longer who you used to be.

In this universe, you're just some two ghosts standing in the place of you and him, haunted by the memories of what once was while trying to remember what it feels to have a heartbeat.

After Sae’s visit yesterday, saying that you weren’t doing fine would be a gross understatement.

Your emotions were all over the place, and you couldn't seem to find a stable ground for your thoughts. It didn't help when your parents casually mentioned that he was leaving town later today. Apparently, Mrs. Itoshi had a little gossip session with the neighbors, unknowingly revealing a piece of her oldest son's business.

He’s leaving, and that's good—for you and for him.

As you stood behind the counter of the coffee shop, you absentmindedly glanced out the window, your eyes drawn to the beach. The sight of the shore brought back a flood of memories.

Maybe in another life, the two of you could still dance along the sandy shore, playfully splashing water at each other. He would chase after you, catching hold of your waist as he sweeps you off your feet. And perhaps, just perhaps, you would have the chance to embrace him tightly once again, with your arms wrapped around his neck while you share a kiss as greedy and fiery as the sea’s yearning for the moon.

And maybe, in another life, your story wouldn’t end with both of you being strangers who know a little too much about each other.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the tears streaming down your cheeks until Hari whispered, “Y/N... you're crying.”

“Oh, I am,” you admitted, trying to regain your composure.

Your heart lurched as you tried to suppress the tears, but they kept flowing relentlessly. “Hari…” you whispered, shocked by your own emotional outpouring.

Hari's eyes reflected pity as she watched you, her voice soft and understanding. “Go,” she encouraged, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Get your man. I'll take care of everything here.”

The words hit you like a lifeline, a spark of hope igniting within you. You quickly removed your apron and grabbed your keys, determined to catch him before it was too late.

But before you could dash out, Hari's voice echoed through the shop, loud and clear, “Go! Be happy! And for the love of god, no more sacrifices as a love language!”

With one last glance at her and your coffee shop, you rushed out the door.

The airport seemed like a maze of bustling strangers as you frantically searched for the departure gates. Every passing second felt like an eternity, the fear of missing him consuming you.

Desperation and determination fueled your steps as you approached the flight attendant, your voice trembling, “Flight to Spain — I need to know about the flight to Spain for today.”

The attendant looked at you with sympathy, “I'm sorry, but all flights to Spain have already left. The last one left twenty minutes ago.”

Your heart sank, but you couldn't give up that easily. “Can you check again? Please. I-I need to see him. Please.”

The attendant double-checked, but the outcome remained unchanged.

Twenty damn minutes. You lost him in just that short amount of time.

Your heart shattered as you realized you had missed your chance. The desperation in your eyes was evident as you felt your world crumbling around you.

In the midst of the bustling airport, you allowed yourself to grieve for what could have been and for the chances you never took.

Six years ago, you were supposed to be here. And maybe if you did, you wouldn't find yourself six years after, wishing you did things differently.

The drive back felt like the longest journey of your life.

The sinking sun painted the sky with hues of orange and pink as you approached the familiar place. As you got closer, you noticed that the shop was already closed, and you assumed Hari had taken care of everything.

But what caught you off guard was the sight of Sae standing there, in front of your place, with a suitcase by his side, as if he were meant to be on a flight rather than standing there.

“You're here,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest as you got closer.

“I’m here.”

“Why didn't you leave?” you asked.

Because I’m done convincing myself that I hate you, Sae hesitated to say. “Why did you go to the airport?” he countered instead, avoiding your question.

Because I’m done telling myself that I did the right thing.

There were so many things you wanted to say, but the words were caught in your throat. You bit your lip, not ready to answer his question just yet.

Impatient and desperate, Sae took his chances to ask you the only question that mattered to him at this point, “Tell me you don't love me anymore. I will go. I will do as you please. I just need to hear it from you.”

Your eyes widened at his sudden question, but Sae wasn’t done yet. “Answer me. It’s a yes or no question.”

Lost in a whirlwind of emotions, you couldn't hold back the torrent of words that poured from your heart.

“A yes or no question, you say? Every night, I think of you.”

With each word, your voice wavered, and you couldn't help but express the worries that had plagued you during his absence.

“Were you eating properly? Does the food there suit your liking? You’re a bit picky. Is it too hot there? Were you taking your supplements? Were you being hard on yourself again? Is... is there someone new? There must be, right?”

As the words left your lips, you realized just how much you had been consumed by thoughts of him, wondering about every aspect of his life, even when he was miles away from you.

His reaction to you holding forth seemed to intensify at your last question, but right now, you weren’t ready to listen to him. He needs to listen to you.

“Every single night of the past six years, I yearned for you. I yearned to have you close. I yearned to hold your face just once more. And fuck, I would’ve traded all my tomorrows for just one yesterday with you.”

With those words, the floodgates of emotion burst open, and tears streamed down your cheeks.

Fuck, six years. For six years, you held on and held out. Would it have been easier if both of you had tried, and along the way, lost? Would it have alleviated the pain of what-ifs and what could have been's if you had bargained, if you had gambled? Or would it all have led you right back to this moment, grappling with the same heartache and uncertainty?

Finally, meeting his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own emotions in his. But you weren’t done yet.

“And you dare ask me if I love you. Well, does that answer your fucking question, Itoshi?”

“Then, don’t cross it out. Don’t ever cross it out again.”

Cross what…out?

“I saw your letter,” Sae admitted, causing a momentary confusion to wash over you.

My letter… Bewildered, you couldn't form the right words, and he took it as a sign to continue, and to close the distance between you to hold your hands.

“Tell me, how could I leave after reading that, knowing the only soul who truly knew me was here? You own me, Y/N.”

“I told you countless times before, you own me,” Sae reaffirmed, his grip on your hand tightening as he drew it closer to his lips, planting tender kisses upon your skin.

“There was no one,” he continued, his words carrying a sense of reassurance. “And there's no other warmth comparable to yours that I'd ever let myself bask in. And if there's any, I'd be only fooling myself, pretending it was you instead.”

Sae's voice grew softer, yet resolute. “You own me, even when I'm on the other side of the world. You own me, Y/N. Even in the distance that separated us, even in the years that you claim I'm not."

He stepped closer, his eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. “No place can ever own me as much as you do. So, don't ever cross your I love you's to me. I want them – all. I don't want your sorry's.”

“But I’m sorry,” you whispered, for the last time. But Sae gently wiped away your tears.

“It's ‘I love you’ from now on.”

For a moment, you both stayed like that, trying to make up for the lost time. Sae, much like you, dreamed of the day he gets to hold you close once again. He dreamed of a day he gets to watch the sunset from the reflection of your eyes again.

Sae could go on and on listing a hundred more reasons why he shouldn't be standing here, and yet he knew, only one of it was true – and that he hated himself for convincing himself that he shouldn't be here – to you, in his hometown.

Sae may have vowed to never come back to this place, but it was always a lie, because for all he knew, it's the only place he truly belonged. Half of his heart was left here, with you.

“Come on,” Sae said, and you followed him, curiosity in your eyes.

“Where are we going?”

“There,” Sae pointed to the beach, your spot, specifically. “To our place. The sky looks pretty, and I want it to know about us, again.”

“Us... again?” you asked hesitantly.

“If you would take me back.” Sae answered, a hint of fear in his eyes, afraid that he might be assuming this second chance for the two of you.

You took his hand in response, and squeezed it three times. “I want nothing more than to be with you, again.”

Without any more words, Sae gently cupped your cheeks, his touch sending shivers down your spine. The touch of his fingers was both familiar and new.

In the fading light of the day, his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your heart race. The anticipation hung heavy in the air as you leaned closer to each other, your breath hitched as his warm breath mingled with yours.

His lips were soft against yours, and as they moved with a tenderness that mirrored the way he held you, it was as if he was trying to convey everything he had ever wanted to say to you in that one, passionate moment.

The kiss deepened, and you could feel the intensity of his emotions pouring into it. It was a kiss that spoke of all the words left unsaid, of all the nights spent missing each other, and of all the dreams of a future together.

Feeling the tears streaming down your cheeks, Sae pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. And in that moment, he knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be – here.

To you, in his hometown.

💭 thank you for the request saetorinrin! (i owe you a lot for your patience i guess..)

note. hi. if you’ve been here before, you might know that i hate this trope with a burning passion, i just can’t write it for the life of me. i started this in may (and only had the guts to finish it this month lmao), i was so tempted to delete everything and start from scratch (for the nth time) but i think i owe it to myself to retain most of what i wrote when i was stranded on an island xd this isn’t my best, that, i know for sure. but i hope you’ll still like it !

💌 if you reached this part, and you want to know about reader’s letter that sae’s was referencing, here it is. you may or may not read this, it won’t really matter. but if you want to, click until the end :>

💭 back to: milestone event

#☁️ my ode to you #first milestone event!#writing: 003 #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #itoshi sae fluff #bllk x reader #bllk imagines #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #itoshi sae angst #blue lock angst

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hookhausenschips · 12 days

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Break The Curse {CL16}

500 Follower Special!!!

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Summary: Charles finally broke the Monaco Curse.

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A/N: we won't talk about the accident with HAAS and Red Bull

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Y/N's POV

The Monaco Grand Prix is not just a race; it's a spectacle, a testament to the daring and skill of the drivers who navigate its treacherous turns. To win here is to etch one's name into the very fabric of Formula 1 history. For Charles Leclerc, it was more than that—it was a homecoming, a chance to claim victory on the streets where he'd grown up.

As Y/N, I stood by his side, not just as a partner but as his anchor, the one who knew the boy behind the racer's mask. Charles and I met years ago, long before his ascent to Formula 1 glory. Our relationship has always been built on mutual respect and a deep understanding of the sacrifices required by his career. The journey we've taken together, from the karting circuits of Europe to the grand stages of Formula 1, has been one of unwavering support and shared dreams.

The significance of the Monaco Grand Prix to Charles is immense. Born and raised in the heart of Monaco, Charles grew up with the roar of engines echoing through the narrow streets of Monte Carlo. As a child, he watched the likes of Ayrton Senna and Michael Schumacher conquer the same circuit, dreaming that one day he would join their ranks. The Principality's streets are more than just a track to him; they're a canvas of childhood memories, a symbol of his aspirations, and a testament to his journey from a young boy with a dream to a man on the brink of making history.

For me, standing by his side through the highs and lows of his career, the Monaco Grand Prix represents the culmination of years of hard work, sacrifice, and relentless determination. Every practice session, every race, every moment of doubt and triumph has led to this point. The atmosphere in Monaco during the Grand Prix is unlike anything else—a blend of glamour, history, and raw racing spirit. The city transforms into a vibrant celebration of speed, with fans from around the world converging to witness the spectacle.

Race day in Monaco is unlike any other. The city transforms into a buzzing hive of activity, with fans, celebrities, and teams all converging on the iconic circuit. The sun rose over the Mediterranean, casting a golden glow on the historic streets that would soon echo with the roar of engines. The atmosphere was electric, a blend of anticipation, excitement, and a touch of glamour that only Monaco could provide.

As Charles and I prepared for the day, there was a shared sense of nervous excitement. We had our breakfast in the calm of our apartment, overlooking the serene waters of the harbor. Charles was unusually quiet, his focus already on the race ahead. I could see the determination in his eyes, a steely resolve that belied the nerves I knew he must be feeling.

We walked through the paddock hand-in-hand, the familiar sights and sounds providing a sense of comfort amidst the chaos. The smell of burning rubber and fuel, the hum of the generators, and the sight of the vibrant team colors against the backdrop of Monaco’s elegance—all of it was a reminder of the world we lived in, one that we both loved and respected.

The team’s hospitality suite was a hive of activity, with engineers and mechanics making final preparations. The air was thick with the scent of coffee and the murmur of last-minute strategy discussions. Charles’ race engineer approached, a clipboard in hand, ready to go over the race plan one last time. I gave Charles a reassuring squeeze before he was whisked away into a briefing.

While Charles was busy with the team, I found solace in small routines. I checked my phone for messages from family and friends, all wishing Charles the best of luck. Their support meant the world to us, and knowing they were watching gave me strength. I took a moment to breathe, steadying my nerves, reminding myself that we had prepared for this day meticulously.

The grid walk was next, and it felt like stepping into a different world. The grandstands were already filling up, fans waving flags and holding banners with Charles’ name. The celebrities mingled with team members, photographers capturing every moment. As Charles and I made our way to the grid, we were stopped by well-wishers, each adding to the growing sense of anticipation.

In the final moments before the race, Charles and I shared a private moment. We stood by the car, the Ferrari glistening in the sunlight, a powerful machine ready to conquer the streets. I looked into his eyes, seeing a mixture of focus and emotion. “You’ve got this,” I whispered, my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach. He nodded, a small, determined smile playing on his lips.

We shared a tender embrace, drawing strength from each other. It was a ritual we had developed over the years—a moment of connection that grounded us amidst the chaos. “For us,” he murmured, his voice filled with resolve. I nodded, unable to find the words to express the depth of my feelings.

As Charles donned his helmet and prepared to get into the car, I took my place in the garage, surrounded by the team. The energy was palpable, a current that ran through the crowd, the teams, and the drivers. The team’s radios crackled with final instructions, and the engines roared to life, a sound that sent a thrill through my veins.

The cars were lined up on the grid, the lights above them a countdown to the start of the race. I held my breath, my heart pounding in my chest. The world seemed to hold its breath with me, the seconds stretching into eternity. Then, in a burst of speed and sound, the race was on, and my role was to watch, to hope, and to hold my breath with every lap.

The energy of Monaco was unlike anything else, a blend of history, glamour, and pure racing spirit. The fans, the yachts in the harbor, the iconic streets—all of it came together to create an atmosphere that was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. As the cars surged forward, I could feel the weight of every moment, the tension a living thing that gripped the pit lane, the garage, and the city itself.

From my vantage point in the garage, I could see the focus in every move Charles made, the determination that set his jaw and the slight furrow of concentration between his brows. The laps ticked by, a countdown to a dream that hung in the balance. Through every twist and turn of the Circuit de Monaco, Charles held the lead, his red Ferrari a streak of defiance against the asphalt. The tension was a living thing, gripping the pit lane, the garage where I stood, and the city that held its breath.

As the five red lights illuminated and then extinguished, the roar of the engines was almost drowned out by the collective gasp of the crowd. Charles had a strong start, maintaining his lead into the first corner at Sainte Devote. His Ferrari darted forward, sleek and powerful, threading the needle through the tight streets of Monte Carlo.

The first few laps were crucial. Charles settled into a rhythm, his driving smooth yet aggressive, a perfect blend of precision and daring. The narrow streets of Monaco left no room for error, and I watched every lap with my heart in my throat, each twist and turn a testament to his skill.

By lap 10, the field began to spread out, with Charles extending his lead over the chasing pack. Behind him, a battle was brewing for the second position, the Red Bull and Mercedes cars jostling for supremacy. Charles’ race engineer, through the team radio, provided constant updates, his voice a steady anchor amidst the high-octane drama.

Pit stops in Monaco are critical. On lap 28, the team called Charles in for his first and only scheduled pit stop. The crew had practiced this maneuver countless times, but the pressure of the moment was palpable. Charles darted into the pit lane, the car lifted, tires changed, and in what seemed like an eternity but was merely 2.5 seconds, he was back on track. The pit stop was flawless, and Charles rejoined the race still in the lead, but now with fresher tires and a renewed determination.

By lap 40, tire management became a focal point. The asphalt of Monaco is unforgiving, and maintaining the delicate balance between speed and tire preservation was crucial. Charles communicated seamlessly with his race engineer, adjusting his driving style to conserve the tires while keeping a vigilant eye on his pursuers.

A pivotal moment came on lap 51. A crash further down the grid brought out the Safety Car, bunching up the field and erasing Charles’ hard-earned lead. The tension in the garage was palpable, a silent prayer that everything would hold together during the restart. As the Safety Car peeled off, Charles executed the perfect getaway, his reflexes sharp and his resolve unwavering.

The final laps were a masterclass in defensive driving. The pressure from behind intensified, the Red Bull car of his closest rival looming large in his mirrors. Each sector was a battle, every corner a test of nerve. Charles’ concentration was absolute, his lines perfect, his speed controlled.

Lap 70, the final lap. The crowd was on their feet, the tension reaching a fever pitch. Charles navigated the twists and turns with the precision of a surgeon, his focus unbreakable. The familiar sights of the Principality blurred past, the car a red streak against the backdrop of cheering fans and historic buildings.

As Charles approached the final corner, the realization began to dawn. The chequered flag waved, a symbol of triumph and validation. Charles crossed the finish line, his car the first to breach the line, the crowd’s roar a physical wave of sound and emotion.

The pit lane erupted in celebration. Engineers, mechanics, and team members cheered, their faces lit with joy and relief. I watched as Charles brought the car to a stop, his hands shaking with the adrenaline of victory. He climbed out, his face breaking into a smile that was pure and unadulterated joy.

The victory was his—the first Monégasque to win in Monaco in decades. As he stood on his car, fists raised in triumph, the enormity of the moment hit me. This was more than a race; it was a dream realized, a testament to years of hard work, sacrifice, and unwavering determination.

Charles made his way back to the team, his eyes searching the crowd until they found mine. The world seemed to slow as we embraced, a moment of pure, shared elation. "We did it," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

The victory was not just his, but ours, a culmination of everything we had endured and achieved together. It was a moment that would be etched in our memories forever, a testament to the power of dreams, determination, and the unbreakable bond we shared.

As Charles crossed the finish line, the crowd erupted into a symphony of sound. The cheers, the applause, the deafening roar of the engines—all blended into a cacophony of celebration that echoed through the streets of Monaco. Every spectator, from the die-hard fans to the casual observers, seemed to rise to their feet in unison, their voices uniting in a chorus of triumph.

In the heart of the chaos, I stood rooted to the spot, my eyes fixed on the red Ferrari as it soared past the finish line. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a testament to the tension and anticipation that had gripped me throughout the race. And then, as Charles brought the car to a stop in the victory lane, a wave of relief washed over me, leaving behind an overwhelming sense of pride.

The stadium erupted into a deafening roar as Charles emerged from the cockpit, his helmet held aloft in one hand, his face a mask of exhaustion and exhilaration. I pushed through the crowd, my heart racing with each step, until finally, we stood face to face, our eyes locking in a moment of shared triumph.

We embraced fiercely, the weight of the moment enveloping us in a cocoon of pure, unadulterated happiness. I could feel Charles' heart racing against mine, his breath warm against my skin. "You did it," I whispered against his ear, my voice choked with emotion. Charles held me tightly, his body trembling with the sheer magnitude of what he had accomplished. "We did it," he replied, his voice a mixture of disbelief and pride.

In that moment, amidst the chaos and celebration, time seemed to stand still. We were two souls united by a dream, basking in the glow of a victory that transcended the boundaries of mere sport. The magnitude of Charles' achievement was palpable, a testament to his skill, determination, and unwavering belief in himself.

And then, as if on cue, our lips met in a tender kiss—a silent affirmation of the bond that had carried us through the highs and lows of racing life. It was a fleeting moment, but in that kiss, I felt a lifetime of love, support, and shared dreams. And as we pulled away, our eyes met once again, sparkling with unspoken promises of the future.

As we stood there, lost in each other's embrace, I knew that this was more than just a race victory. It was a triumph of the human spirit, a testament to the power of perseverance, resilience, and the unwavering belief in oneself. And as we looked out at the sea of cheering faces, I knew that this was just the beginning of a journey that would take us to even greater heights.

The podium ceremony was a crescendo of emotions, a culmination of months of preparation, strategy, and raw determination. As Charles ascended the steps to the podium, the crowd's roar intensified, a deafening symphony of cheers that echoed off the walls of Monaco's iconic buildings. Every step he took was imbued with significance, each stride bringing him closer to the pinnacle of success.

As he reached the top, the golden trophy gleaming in the sunlight, the atmosphere crackled with anticipation. The Monégasque flag fluttered proudly in the breeze, a symbol of Charles' heritage and the pride of his nation. The podium itself was a stage set for glory, bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun, a backdrop of azure skies and sparkling waters framing the momentous occasion.

The strains of the Monégasque national anthem filled the air, a melody that seemed to reverberate through the very soul of the principality. For Charles, standing atop the podium as the anthem played, it was a moment of profound significance—a validation of years of dedication, sacrifice, and unwavering belief in himself.

As the last notes of the anthem faded into the ether, the champagne bottles were uncorked, their effervescent contents spraying in wild arcs of froth and bubbles. Charles grinned as he joined in the jubilant ritual, the champagne cool against his skin, the taste of victory sweet on his lips.

From my vantage point below, I watched with a heart full of pride. The sight of Charles, standing tall and triumphant, was a testament to his resilience and tenacity. He had faced adversity with unwavering resolve, emerging stronger and more determined than ever before.

Amidst the flashing cameras and jubilant cheers, a single tear escaped my eye, catching the light as it traced a path down my cheek. It was a tear of overwhelming joy, a physical manifestation of the emotions swirling inside me. Despite the elation of the moment, there was a bittersweet quality to it—a recognition of the sacrifices and struggles that had led us to this point.

As Charles made his way down from the podium, the trophy held aloft in triumph, I hurried to meet him at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes sparkled with elation as he enveloped me in a tight embrace, the weight of the trophy a tangible reminder of his achievement.

In that moment, amidst the throng of well-wishers and flashing cameras, time seemed to stand still. We shared a silent exchange of smiles, our hearts overflowing with gratitude and joy. For Charles, this victory was more than just a race win—it was a testament to the power of perseverance, passion, and the unwavering support of those who believed in him. And as we stood together, basking in the glow of his triumph, I knew that this was a moment we would cherish for a lifetime.

The podium celebrations were a whirlwind of excitement and euphoria, but as the cheers began to fade and the adrenaline of victory ebbed away, a sense of calm descended over us. As Charles stepped down from the podium, the golden trophy cradled in his arms, I fell into step beside him, our fingers intertwined in a silent gesture of solidarity.

Away from the glare of the cameras and the cacophony of the crowd, we found a quiet corner of the paddock to steal a moment of respite. The air was filled with the scent of champagne and the hum of distant conversations, but here, in our own little oasis, there was a sense of tranquility—a moment of stillness amidst the chaos.

Charles set the trophy down on a nearby table, its gleaming surface reflecting the fading light of the setting sun. He turned to face me, his eyes alight with an intensity that took my breath away. "We did it," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I couldn't have done it without you."

A tear glistened in the corner of his eye, and before I could stop myself, I reached out to wipe it away. "You did it, Charles," I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. "You made your dream a reality."

He pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly against his chest as he let the weight of his emotions wash over him. Tears streamed down his cheeks, mingling with the remnants of champagne and sweat. "I just wish my father and Jules could see me now," he murmured, his voice thick with sorrow. "I know they're watching from heaven, and I want to make them proud."

I pressed a gentle kiss to his tear-stained cheek, feeling the salt of his tears against my lips. "I'm sure they're looking down on you with so much pride, Charles," I said, my voice filled with conviction. "You've achieved something truly remarkable, and I know they're smiling down on you right now."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the paddock in a soft, golden light, Charles took my hand in his, his touch sending shivers down my spine. "This is just the beginning," he said, his voice tinged with determination. "There are more victories to come, more dreams to chase."

I nodded, feeling my heart swell with love and admiration for the man standing before me. "I'll be with you every step of the way," I promised, my voice filled with unwavering devotion.

And as we stood there, bathed in the glow of our success, I couldn't help but marvel at the depth of our connection. For Charles, this victory was just the start of a journey that would take him to even greater heights. And for me, it was a privilege to be by his side, sharing in his triumphs and supporting him through every challenge. In that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the twilight and the warmth of Charles' love, I knew that there was nowhere else I'd rather be.

================================

CL16 Taglist: @esserenorris, @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @asparklysoul, @dhanihamidi

F1 Taglist: @hiireadstuff, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery

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yoonavii · 4 months

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⌕ ʀᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀꜱʟᴇᴇᴘ

⤿ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴢᴏʀᴏ, ꜱʜᴀɴᴋꜱ, ʟᴜᴄᴄɪ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴀɴᴊɪ

⤿ ᴢᴏʀᴏ

Zoro’s movements are deliberate and steady. He cradles you in his arms and sways with a slow, rhythmic motion, creating a calming effect.

Zoro doesn’t need words. The quiet rocking motion is his way of expressing comfort and care without the need for verbal reassurances.

As he rocks you, Zoro’s gaze remains focused on your face. There’s a protective and watchful expression as he ensures you feel safe and secure.

Though not known for his singing, Zoro might hum a soft tune or a lullaby under his breath. The sound is low and soothing, adding a touch of warmth to the moment.

Zoro pays attention to your reactions. If he senses you prefer a different rocking speed or motion, he adjusts accordingly to ensure you find the most comfortable position.

In addition to rocking, Zoro may gently stroke your hair or run his fingers through it. This extra touch adds to the overall soothing experience.

Zoro ensures you’re surrounded by a sense of safety. Whether it’s using a blanket to create a cozy nest or adjusting pillows for maximum comfort, he wants you to feel at ease.

Zoro is patient, rocking you until he senses you’ve drifted off into a peaceful sleep. He takes his time, savoring the quiet moments shared.

Once you’re asleep, Zoro transitions you carefully to the bed. He ensures you remain undisturbed and comfortable as he lays you down.

After you’re asleep, Zoro might linger for a moment, watching over you with a quiet and contented expression before tending to his own rest.

⤿ ꜱʜᴀɴᴋꜱ

Shanks sways back and forth in a slow and gentle rhythm. His movements are effortless, creating a soothing and comforting motion.

Shanks is known for his love of music, so he might softly whistle a calming tune or a sea shanty, adding a melodic touch to the rocking.

Shanks keeps a light atmosphere. He might engage in playful banter, sharing stories or making jokes to lighten the mood as he rocks you.

Shanks pays attention to your cues. If he senses a need for a change in rocking speed or style, he adapts to ensure your comfort.

In between the rocking, he might whisper words of affection or reassurance, letting you know that you’re cared for and safe.

Imagine a scenario where Shanks rocks you in a chair on the deck of his ship, the gentle sounds of the sea providing a serene background. XD

Shanks may gently rub your back or stroke your hair, adding a tactile element to the comfort he provides.

Once you’re in a peaceful sleep, he’ll carefully transitions you to the bed. He ensures you’re settled and comfortable before stepping away.

Shanks may linger for a moment, watching over you with a soft smile. His red eyes reflect a deep sense of affection and care.

⤿ ʟᴜᴄᴄɪ

Lucci’s movements are precise and rhythmic, almost like a well-calibrated machine. His rocking has a steady and consistent pace, providing a sense of stability.

He operates in silence. The only sounds you might hear are the subtle creaks of the chair or the ship. He ensures a quiet and peaceful environment.

Lucci maintains a focused gaze, his intense eyes watching over you with a sense of unwavering attention. It’s almost as if he’s standing guard while rocking you.

While rocking, he might occasionally stroke your hair or back, a subtle gesture that reveals a softer side to his usually stern demeanor.

Lucci strategically places the rocking chair in a quiet, dimly lit corner, creating an optimal environment for relaxation.

He exudes a calm and cool aura. The rocking process reflects this, providing a tranquil experience that complements his composed nature.

When it’s time to transition to the bed, Lucci does so with crisp efficiency. He ensures you’re comfortably settled, adjusting pillows and blankets with meticulous care.

Lucci might hum or softly sing lullabies in a composed manner. His deep voice adds a soothing element to the rocking experience.

He remains vigilant even as you sleep. His watchful gaze continues, ensuring your safety and well-being throughout the night.

Lucci might establish a routine for rocking you to sleep, creating a sense of predictability that aligns with his disciplined nature.

⤿ ꜱᴀɴᴊɪ

Sanji’s rocking motion is characterized by a gentle, rhythmic sway. He moves with grace, creating a calming sensation that lulls you into a peaceful sleep.

The room is adorned with softly lit candles, casting a warm and cozy glow. Sanji appreciates the romantic atmosphere, making the rocking session feel like a serene escape.

Smooth jazz music plays softly in the background, adding to the sophisticated and tranquil ambiance as Sanji rocks you to sleep.

He loves the scent of delicious food, so the room is filled with the comforting aroma of freshly baked goods, creating a homey and inviting environment.

The bed is adorned with a plush comforter featuring intricate embroidery. Sanji will ensure that you’re nestled in the softness of the covers during the rocking.

He takes pride in fluffing and adjusting the pillows to perfection, ensuring optimal comfort and support for a good night’s sleep.

He’ll whisper chivalrous and comforting words as he rocks you, creating a sense of security and care.

Incorporating his culinary skills, Sanji might include a gentle foot massage during the rocking session, using soothing oils to enhance relaxation.

Sanji softly hums a calming melody while rocking you, his gentle voice adding an extra layer of tranquility to the bedtime routine.

Sanji might sing or hum soft French lullabies, infusing an air of romance and sophistication into the rocking experience.

Before placing you in bed, Sanji leans down for a gentle goodnight kiss, expressing his care and affection.

A pair of comfy slippers awaits you by the bedside, ensuring your feet touch a soft surface as you transition from rocking to sleep.

He’ll prepare a cup of organic herbal tea known for its calming properties, serving it in a delicate teacup to complement the bedtime routine.

The bed is adorned with silky smooth sheets, providing a luxurious and pampering feel during the rocking session.

Sanji recites soft, romantic poetry or heartfelt words as he rocks you, turning the bedtime routine into a poetic and tender experience.

©𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐈— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.

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fragileheartbeats · 28 days

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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝒞 RYING BOY 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

꒰͡ ⠀ ִ Aegon II Targaryen x Targaryen Reader ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱

♡ㅤEveryone hate him, everyone but you 𝅄ㅤೀ

˚꒰🍑꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

As Aegon reached your chamber, his knuckles rapped softly upon the oaken door. A moment later, it swung open, revealing your warm and inviting presence. Aegon's weary gaze met yours, and a glimmer of hope flickered within his eyes.

'Brother,' you whispered gently, your voice like a soothing balm to his wounded soul. 'What troubles you so?'

He remained silent for a moment, his lips trembling. Then, with a stifled sob, he stumbled forward and collapsed into your arms. His body convulsed with sorrow as he poured out his heart to you.

'She hates me,' he sobbed, his voice thick with unshed tears. 'Mother...she thinks I'm weak, unworthy. I'm...I'm nothing to her.'

His words were like daggers to your heart. You knew the pain of a mother's indifference all too well. 'Oh, Aegon,' you whispered, 'I am so sorry.'

You held him tighter, allowing his tears to soak into your dress. He buried his face in your hair, seeking comfort in the scent of your lavender perfume. As you continued to stroke his hair, you could feel him gradually calming down.

'Stay with me,' he muttered, his voice a mere thread. 'Please don't let me go.'

'I will not leave you, Aegon,' you promised solemnly. 'I am here for you.'

You sat in silence for a long time, the only sound the crackling of the fire in the hearth. You could feel Aegon's body slowly relaxing in your arms. His breathing grew even, and the tension slowly faded from his face.

With each passing moment, Aegon's despair slowly subsided, replaced by a sense of tranquility. The warmth of your presence seeped into his aching heart, mending the broken pieces one by one. He leaned into your embrace, seeking solace in your arms.

As the night wore on, Aegon's eyelids grew heavy. His breathing became shallow, and his body grew limp with exhaustion. Finally, he drifted into a peaceful slumber, your fingers still gently twirling his hair.

As you watched him sleep, you couldn't help but feel a profound sense of pity for him. He was a young man, tormented by his own demons and desperate for love. Despite his flaws, he was still your brother. But beneath, he was just a lonely boy who had never known true affection.

You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. 'Sleep well, Aegon,' you whispered. 'You are loved.'

And with that, you drifted off to sleep yourself, comforted by the knowledge that you had brought a small measure of solace to the broken prince.

His face was serene, his pain temporarily forgotten. In that moment, you knew that you had provided him with a flicker of solace in his darkest hour. And as the first rays of sunlight peeked through the cracks in the curtains, you knew that you would be there for him, no matter what.

@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.

MASTERLIST

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 7 months

Text

Daddy’s New Hair Style.

my masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here!

authors note - i actually really like harrys buzz cut era, it makes him look more macho in my opinion 🤷‍♀️

word count - 1.7k

in which, your fiancé returns home one afternoon, shocking both you and your son milo when he appears to be sporting a new hair cut, neither of you seemed to be prepared for.

In the cozy embrace of your London home, you find yourself nestled on the sofa, a soft blanket enveloping you and your precious two-year-old son, Milo.

The room is dimly lit, creating a tranquil ambiance as you cradle him in your arms.

Milo, having fallen asleep while breastfeeding, (his afternoon snack.) radiates an innocent calmness, his tiny breaths rhythmic and soothing.

The gentle hum of a TV show provides a subtle soundtrack to this tender moment. The muted glow from the screen casts a warm illumination on the living room, creating a serene atmosphere.

The characters on the show move through their scripted lives, but your attention is divided between the unfolding drama and the cherubic face of your slumbering child.

A cup of tea, steam curling upwards, rests precariously on the arm of the couch, a momentary escape forgotten in the bliss of maternal connection.

The aroma wafts through the air, adding another layer of comfort to the scene. The liquid within holds the promise of warmth and solace, a silent companion in the quietude of this shared repose.

His tousled hair (much like his fathers.) and cherubic features evoke a sense of wonder and fragility, a reminder of the preciousness of these fleeting moments.

The air is filled with a hushed lullaby, a fusion of Milo's delicate breaths, the ambient sounds of the TV, and the distant chirping of birds outside the window.

The subtle creak of the front door signals your fiancés arrival, and although your back is turned, you instantly recognize the familiar sound.

The atmosphere in the room shifts with anticipation as his footsteps echo through the entrance hall, a symphony of his return. The television's hushed murmur fades into the background, overshadowed by the promise of his presence.

"M’home!" Harry's voice, warm and resonant, fills the air with an infectious energy. Even before laying eyes on him, you can sense the genuine joy in his greeting, a sentiment that bridges the physical gap between you.

As he steps further into the living room, the scent of the outside world clings to him – a mixture of the crisp outdoors and the subtle musk of his cologne. It's a scent that has become synonymous with comfort and familiarity, a sensory reminder of the life you share.

The sound of his keys finding their place on the table, a routine symphony that accompanies his homecoming, adds to the rhythmic cadence of the moment. The soft thud of his jacket being hung up, a tactile cue that he is settling in, marks the transition from the outside world to the intimate haven you've created together.

The shuffle of his footsteps pauses briefly, creating a suspended moment where time seems to hold its breath. In the pregnant silence, you can almost hear the smile in his voice as he calls out again,

"Where's m’favorite people?" The endearment, spoken with a familiarity that comes from shared history, melts away any residual tension in the room.

As you turn to face Harry, a reflexive smile plays on your lips, ready to greet him after the day apart.

However, your expression freezes, and your eyes widen in surprise as they fall upon his head. The shock sets in when you realise that the familiar cascade of curls that once adorned his head has been replaced by a sleek buzz cut.

Your mouth hangs open in astonishment, a reaction born from the unexpected transformation.

Your gaze remains fixed on his shorn head, and a kaleidoscope of emotions dances in your eyes – surprise, confusion, and a touch of nostalgia for the familiar texture of his hair.

Harry, oblivious to your internal turmoil, wears a grin that carries a hint of mischief. His eyes twinkle with the satisfaction of a well-kept secret, and he revels in the delayed reaction playing out on your face.

The silence between you becomes palpable, echoing with the unspoken question of whether you'll recover from the unexpected twist.

Harry settles onto the sofa beside you, a tender smile gracing his face as he observes his slumbering son cradled in your arms. The rhythmic motion of his hand, gently rubbing up and down the little one's back, is a silent lullaby that adds to the serenity of the moment.

The room is hushed, filled only with the soft sounds of your child's breathing and the muffled ambiance from the TV in the background.

As you glance at Harry, your eyes inadvertently catch a glimpse of his newly shorn hair. The sight triggers a wave of emotions within you, and the words that could express your thoughts seem to elude you. Uncertain of how to navigate this uncharted territory, a lump forms in your throat, and an overwhelming surge of emotion finds release through tears.

"M’love, s’wrong?" he inquires gently, his voice a soothing balm.

You glance up at him, your shoulders shrugging in a gesture of uncertainty.

"I just... I miss your curls," you admit, your voice catching slightly as you try to articulate the complex mix of emotions swirling within.

A sympathetic understanding softens Harry's eyes as he takes in your words.

"M’didn't think it would hit y’this hard. S’just hair," he says with a wistful smile, attempting to downplay the significance of the change.

You nod, a half-hearted smile forming on your lips.

"I know, it's just... it's going to take some getting used to," you confess, the vulnerability of the moment hanging in the air.

Without another word, Harry wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a comforting embrace. His touch is a silent reassurance that transcends words.

"Change can be a bit overwhelming, huh?" he muses, his lips brushing against the top of your head in a gentle kiss.

You nod again, finding solace in the warmth of his embrace.

"Yeah, it's just that your curls were... a part of you. It's like I need to recalibrate my mental image," you explain, your words a hesitant attempt to convey the intricacies of your feelings.

Harry chuckles softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"Fair enough. M’guess I should ‘ave warned y’about t’big reveal," he admits, a playful glint in his eyes.

A light chuckle escapes your lips, and you nuzzle into his shoulder.

"Maybe just a heads-up next time," you suggest, the tension dissipating as humour finds its way into the conversation.

He nods, his hand now gently playing with your hair.

"Got it. And hey, it's still me, curls or no curls," he reassures, his voice a comforting anchor in the midst of change.

Milo, roused by the comforting familiarity of his father's voice, stirs on your lap. His sleepy eyes flutter open, and with a drowsy curiosity, he turns his gaze towards the source of that familiar sound.

Upon seeing Harry, a small, delighted smile graces Milo's face. The connection between father and son transcends words, and with newfound energy, the two-year-old wriggles on your lap. With determination that only a toddler possesses, he begins to crawl off your lap towards his father.

"Ey’ there, little champ," Harry greets, his voice a melodic blend of warmth and affection. He extends his arms, ready to receive Milo into his embrace. The room is now filled with the joyous energy of a family reuniting.

As Milo reaches Harry's waiting arms, the father-son reunion is marked by laughter and the soft patter of little feet against the living room floor.

Harry scoops Milo up, lifting him into the air with playful ease. The room is filled with the infectious laughter of a child delighted by the simple joy of being in his father's arms.

With a gleeful determination, he lifts his small hands, fingers outstretched, ready to engage in his usual ritual of playing with the curls at the back of his father's neck.

However, as his tiny fingers reach the intended destination, there's an unexpected void. Confusion clouds Milo's face, and a puzzled expression replaces the usual delight.

His fingers flitter through the air, searching for the familiar texture that has always greeted him during these tender moments.

When realisation strikes, a small whine escapes Milo's lips, a sound that echoes both disappointment and surprise. The absence of the once-present curls disrupts his routine, and with a spontaneous burst of emotion, he throws his head back, as if in protest against this unforeseen change.

Harry, caught off guard by Milo's reaction, looks down at his son with a mix of amusement and understanding.

He chuckles softly, his hands adjusting to accommodate Milo's newfound exploration.

"No more curls, buddy. Daddy's got a new look," he explains, trying to soothe Milo's evident dismay.

Yet, Milo remains unconvinced, his little face contorted in a blend of confusion and protest. His fingers continue to explore the unfamiliar terrain, perhaps hoping that the missing curls will magically reappear. The room is filled with the comical symphony of a toddler expressing discontent with the capricious nature of change.

His little face scrunches up in contemplation, and then, with the sincerity only a child can muster, he begins to babble excitedly about his own hair.

"Daddy, hair go bye-bye!" Milo exclaims, his words a delightful blend of toddler language and exuberance.

His tiny fingers point to his head, emphasising the absence of what was once there.

Harry, caught off guard by Milo's animated commentary on his own hair, joins in the toddler's excitement.

"S’right, buddy! Daddy got a new haircut. No more curls," he explains, his laughter mirroring the infectious joy radiating from Milo.

As Milo continues his animated monologue, his eyes shift towards you, seeking acknowledgment and perhaps wanting to share his newfound discovery.

With an enthusiastic gesture, he points at his head again and then looks at you as if to say, "See, Mommy?"

You respond with a warm smile, playing along with the adorable sincerity of the moment.

"Daddy looks great, doesn't he?" you chime in, your words laced with affection.

Just as you said those words, a thought immediately popped into your head and you snapped your gaze so it was locked onto your lovers.

“H?”

He hummed from where he was playing with his sons dummy, playfully taking it in and out of his little ones mouth making him laugh hysterically.

When he looked at you for a brief second, you eyebrows were raised.

“Your curls better be back before the wedding.”

509 notes · View notes

cherryrainn · 10 months

Note

cuddle headcanons with our beloved cole cassidy, hanzo shimada, and junkrat!

OKAYYYYY IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS

☽ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰

— cuddle chronicles

cuddle headcanons with cassidy, hanzo and junkrat.

COLE CASSIDY ♡

when cuddling with cassidy, you'd find yourself enveloped in his strong arms, feeling his warmth and the sense of security he exudes.

he might pull you closer, as if shielding you from the world, his calm presence making you feel safe.

cassidy can be quite playful with those he's close to. while cuddling, he might crack a joke or make a lighthearted remark, his signature cowboy charm shining through.

his calloused fingers would trace patterns on your back, their roughness contrasting with his gentle touch. it's as if he's silently reassuring you that he's there.

cassidy's occasional cocky attitude might manifest even during cuddle time. he might smirk and playfully boast about how he's 'the best cuddler in the west', all while squeezing you closer to him.

he might rest his chin on top of your head, his beard tickling your forehead.

just like he treats his weapons with care, cassidy treats you with gentleness and respect during cuddles.

cassidy might tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. his scarred eye holds a softness that's reserved only for you, and in that moment, you feel truly cherished.

tough cowboy on the outside, softie on the inside.

"you know you're stuck with me now, right?"

HANZO SHIMADA ♡

hanzo's serious and introspective nature might extend to cuddling as well.

he's not one to initiate cuddles readily, but when he does, it's a significant gesture.

his cuddles are filled with warmth and security, a quiet way of showing how much he cares for you.

due to his reserved personality, hanzo prefers cuddling in more private settings. whether it's a quiet evening at home or a serene spot outdoors, he feels most at ease when it's just the two of you.

hanzo's strong arms provide a sense of protection as he holds you close. you can feel his muscles tense and relax as he adjusts his hold, making sure you're as comfortable as possible.

his touch is gentle yet firm, reflecting his disciplined nature.

hanzo's company is soothing, even if he doesn't say much. often, his cuddles are accompanied by a comfortable silence. the two of you might watch the sunset or simply listen to the sounds of nature, the silence speaking volumes about your connection.

hanzo's preference might be to lay down together, side by side. he'll often pull you close, your head resting on his chest, and he'll wrap his arm around you. feeling the steady beat of his heart and his rhythmic breathing can be incredibly calming.

hanzo might unconsciously run his fingers through your hair as you cuddle, a soothing and comforting gesture.

"thank you for being the unexpected light in my life."

JUNKRAT ♡

junkrat's not the typical cuddler, but he has his moments. cuddling with him might involve a tangle of limbs and explosions-themed plushies strewn about. he might grumble about it being too sappy, but his mischievous glint betrays his enjoyment.

despite his wild exterior, junkrat gives surprisingly warm hugs. he might not admit it, but his tight grip and genuine smile show he values physical closeness.

he'd create a cozy corner in his hideout for cuddling. piled high with pillows and blankets, it's an explosion-free zone where you both can unwind.

for all his bluster, junkrat can be surprisingly cautious with his touches. he'd hover his hand over your shoulder before committing to the cuddle, almost as if he's not sure how you'll react.

he'd absentmindedly play with your hair, fascinated by its texture and colors. his fingers are deft, his touch gentle despite his typically explosive nature.

junkrat's cuddles are accompanied by his distinctive laughter, which often manages to light up the room even more than his explosive devices.

while cuddling, he might tell you silly stories.

if he's awake during the night, he'd keep watch over you while you sleep. his protective side shows as he softly brushes his fingers across your cheek.

every now and then, you catch him in quieter moments of introspection, and he pulls you in for a cuddle that's surprisingly tender.

"don't think i've gone all mushy on ya now."

601 notes · View notes

sirenpearldust · 2 months

Text

Pearl

Part 1 part 2

Pair: Eris x Reader

Word count: 2.599

Warnings: mentions of cheating, fertility issues, insecure thoughts

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As months slipped by without conception, your mind wandered to the idea of a baby. You found yourself daydreaming about your future baby, wondering if they would inherit your traits or resemble Eris.

Maybe your future child would be a perfect blend of both of you, or a mirror image of Eris with his luscious locks, mischievous amber eyes accented by long, dark lashes, and his straight nose.

You hoped your child would resemble your wonderful husband, with his charming laugh, his thoughtful frown, and all the beauty he possessed.

As you stood before the mirror, you gazed at your belly, imagining it swollen with pregnancy.

Your mind wandered to your child laughing, giggling, and cooing with joy, happiness radiating from their bright eyes.

You felt stressed as numerous people, especially Beron, exerted pressure on you. However, Eris remained your source of comfort, always sweet and wiping your tears, soothing you whenever the healer delivered the disappointing news of another unsuccessful conception.

Eris concealed his relief upon learning of the unsuccessful attempt, careful not to show you his true emotions. Despite this, his desire to fulfill your every wish remained strong, understanding that the timing had to be right for both you and your future heir's safety.

He saw you trying everything—from taking long walks with his mother to eating healthier, experimenting with various fertility teas, and praying.

Despite trying everything, nothing seemed to help. He witnessed your tears and mourning, understanding your sense of shame for not fulfilling what you saw as your only duty.

Eris, feeling responsible for your anguish, was ashamed, as he was at fault making you feel this way.

To help you relax and ease the strain on your body, Beron ordered that you be sent to your parents' house. The Lady of Autumn spoke with Beron, suggesting that a vacation could alleviate your stress and potentially increase your chances of conceiving.

• •

Being at your parents' house proved to be truly relaxing. The familiar surroundings provided comfort, surrounded by your loved ones. You spent time chatting with your sisters and reconnecting with friends you hadn't seen in a while.

Enjoying tea and playing cards together, the conversations and laughter helped you forget all of your worries.

In your childhood home, you were surrounded by laughter and joy, you felt whole and content.

It was a stark contrast to the tension and loneliness you experienced in the forest house, where rivalry, scheming, and jealousy were ever-present.

There, in the forest house, you always felt on edge, but here, in the comforting embrace of your childhood home, the atmosphere was vibrant and carefree.

The air was filled with the joyful laughter of children, and the warmth of your friends' companion enveloped you, easing away any lingering worries you had.

You couldn't help but wish for your child to grow up in such an environment. Perhaps not falling pregnant right now wasn't the worst outcome after all, you sadly mused.

Today, the weather was warm, carrying the scent of the black tea your mother brewed and the cherry cake your sister baked earlier.

Laughter echoed through the garden where you sat, accompanied by the sweet singing of the birds.

The sun shone just right, casting a gentle glow, and overall, the atmosphere was calm and serene.

The atmosphere was abruptly disturbed by your friend's gasp as she remembered something important.

"Oh my, I almost forgot to tell you what happened to Cassandra, you all remember her, right?" she exclaimed, her shock evident as she jumped in her seat.

"Her husband had been cheating on her, and despite her attempts to have a second child with him, he remained loyal to his mistress.

To prevent any illegitimate children with her, he resorted to using a tonic, it hindered any chance of pregnancy. Apparently it is also illegal to use.

Cassandra's father found out, killed the mistress and punished her husband by law."

"I don't know what happened exactly, but Charles now has a scar across his face," another friend chimed in.

"And lately, he's been sticking close to Cassandra when they are at gatherings. Apparently the punishment he faced was only halted because she intervened and saved him from her father. Since then, he's been keeping in line."

"That was well deserved," your mother chimed in, sipping on her tea with a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

As you listened, doubts began to creep into your mind.

Maybe someone had tampered with your tea. However, your handmaids assured you that they hadn't seen anyone interfere with your food or beverages.

Every step of the preparation process, from the ingredients to the serving, had been strictly monitored.

Despite the numerous intimate sessions with Eris each day, it seemed impossible that there could be an issue with fertility.

However, hearing the conversation about Cassandra's situation sparked a troubling thought: what if the problem lay with Eris? Could he be infertile?

The notion of him using a tonic seemed absurd, and the thought of him resorting to such measures was too cruel to contemplate.

He had wiped away your tears and shielded you from harm, from the rumours, the nasty glances directed at you.

You couldn’t entertain such a devastating possibility—betrayal from him would be unimaginable.

He talked to you about the names he had chosen and the colors he envisioned for the baby's room. Every time you talked about your future child he was happy, excited to help choosing the clothes and how he would play with him or her. He didn’t care if it was a girl or a boy.

You both had laid in bed one night, when he confessed his hope that the child would resemble you. He had held you close, your fingers were intertwined, his head on your chest, he wished that your child would inherit your eyes and your smile.

He wouldn’t cheat on you, no he wouldn’t. Not Eris, never him, right?

You obviously would never openly accuse Eris of such a horrendous act or him using the tonic.

Accusing the heir could result in dire consequences, you would be risking your life and insulting the Vanserra family to which you still didn't fully belong to.

You understood that full acceptance into the family would only come with the birth of his heir.

For now, you felt more like a placeholder, knowing that if nothing worked, you could easily be replaced by a new wife.

• •

The evening neared its end and your friends departed, your family prepared for bed.

Quietly, you made your way to your father's office, seeking help to calm your nerves before you also joined dreamland.

In the cold hallway leading to his office, you closed the window, the chill dissipating.

Taking a moment to glance at your reflection, you noticed your hair cascading loosely around your shoulders, and your nightgown, a deep red with golden accents, gave you a regal air.

Compared to a week ago, you looked healthier, your cheeks now filled out.

Gazing past your reflection, you turned your attention to the sky, silently praying and hoping that your father held the answers you needed.

Approaching the grand oak door adorned with golden leaves, you knocked twice.

"Come in," your father's voice called from within.

Upon entering, you found him engrossed in his papers, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. The office carried the aroma of black coffee and biscuits.

Closing the door behind you, you stood before him, clearing your throat to gain his attention.

"Father, have you heard about what happened to Cassandra?" you inquired.

He rubbed his face in frustration before replying angrily, " Good evening to you too. Yes, but I prefer not to indulge in gossip or spread it myself. Why do you ask?"

"It's not about the gossip itself, but about the tonic," you clarified.

His eyes widened in surprise as you quickly added, "Don't worry, I'm not asking to brew it myself. I'm just curious why it's outlawed and what it consists of."

Reassured, he sighed and admitted, "There is a book in the library somewhere. I forgot the title of it." With a smile, you bid him goodnight and wished him a restful sleep. "Goodnight. Sleep well," he replied before you left.

As you walked towards the library, a peculiar sensation stirred in your belly, akin to butterflies fluttering about. Nervousness and a certain cold crept over you, you had a sudden urge to relieve yourself.

As you walked into the library, you skimmed through the books, spending about two hours in the healing section.

Along the search for the specific book, you stumbled upon some intriguing ones that you planned to read later.

Eventually, you found a small black book titled "Outlawed." Within its pages, you discovered a chapter detailing the forbidden tonic.

It described how the tonic could hinder any pregnancy without causing infertility, with a minty scent and a taste like honey.

You stopped breathing, the realization hitting you like a tidal wave.

Eris used to drink a similar concoction in his office every morning—minty and tasting just like honey, just as described in the book.

You remembered how he once swiftly took the drink out of your hand after you had a sip, warning that it wouldn't be safe for a woman.

At the time, you hadn't thought much of it. But now, everything pointed to your husband being the one who used the forbidden tonic. Tears streamed down your face as you realized his betrayal.

You sobbed, as your mind raced through the events of the past few months.

You remembered how Eris had taken care of you, reassuring you that you weren't at fault for the failed conceptions. You went through every moment you had with him, his reaction, how he didn't mourn.

Now, you saw the deception clearly, realizing what a fool you had been to fall for his lies.

He had truly lived up to his name—the cruel prince of autumn.

You never anticipated that you would become a pawn in his schemes.

Questions swirled in your mind. Did he, like Charles, have another woman by his side?

Was he in love with someone else?

Jealousy gnawed at you. Why couldn't he confide in you? After all, you were friends before you were married.

Feelings of stupidity washed over you. Why did you even care now? He had lied to you, and he was probably involved with another woman. There wouldn't be any other reason to use the cursed tonic, right.

Why? Why? Why?

Why would he do it?

• •

You cried the whole night, your eyes swollen and bloodshot red by morning.

Your back ached from falling asleep in the library, and you felt chilled to the bone. Your heart raced with anxiety as you glamoured yourself to avoid questions from your family.

As you dressed and looked into the mirror, doubt crept in.

Were you truly beautiful and put together, or were you actually ugly? Worries plagued your mind—perhaps you were too clingy, or maybe you simply weren't his type.

Did he even find you attractive at all?

You forced a smile as you gazed at your reflection, but your eyes appeared lifeless, devoid of their usual sparkle. No amount of glamouring could mask the emptiness within. Tears welled up, but you quickly wiped them away.

With a frustrated huff, you adjusted your clothing, trying to compose yourself. Taking a deep breath, you headed downstairs.

The tearful goodbyes were exchanged as you hugged everyone farewell.

Standing outside the manor, you waved goodbye to your family before winnowing away.

• •

You arrived in your room after being attended to by the maids, your personal attendants taking charge of your bag.

Finding yourself alone, Eris was nowhere to be found, but he had left flowers on the vanity along with a letter.

Opening it, you read his words:

Hello, Beautiful.

I hope you enjoyed your time with your family. I have missed you dearly I hope you have missed me too.

It was quite lonely without you. I’m blessed to have you. Without you I am not complete nor at peace.

I promise to give you the life you've always wanted and to provide for you. I'll stand by you through thick and thin 'till death do us part. So don’t ever worry about anything else.

Sadly we will need to join dinner today as my Father has invited us.

Please tell me everything you experienced, what you’ve baked, eaten, played and read.

I also have planned a surprise for you (;

Yours truly, Eris.

You crumpled the letter in your hand, before burning it with a flicker of magic. It would have been sweet if you hadn’t known him to be a liar.

Erecting a barrier around the room to ensure privacy, you screamed and cried out your frustration until your throat grew hoarse and your eyes were dry. Once you stopped, you undressed yourself, feeling the need to wash away the disgust you felt from letting him touch you. A soothing bath would probably help.

• •

Out of the bath, you called for Erica and Grace. Seated at the vanity, Erica dried your hair while Grace selected jewelry for you, presenting it. Today, you decided on wearing a mauve dress, as you were in no mood for vibrant colors like red or orange. Frankly, orange made you look terrible, and you weren't in the mood to deal with that today.

They both appeared nervous, avoiding your gaze as you smiled at them. Sensing their unease, you asked, "What's wrong, girls?"

"Nothing, my lady," Erica replied, but before Grace could answer, you noticed her hesitation.

"We don't want to upset you before dinner," Grace added, her voice faltering.

Your smile faltered as well, a nervous feeling creeping over you.

Your heart began to beat faster as you sensed that something was amiss.

"I would rather know than be kept in the dark," you insisted, turning towards them.

They exchanged a hesitant glance before Erica spoke up quietly, "We have seen the prince meeting with a woman on the days your ladyship was away."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced a tight smile and urged them to continue. "Go on," you said, encouraging them.

"The woman doesn’t work here, and we tried to find out more about her, but we’ve found nothing," Erica explained.

"Don’t worry, she's not pretty. You are prettier than her," Grace added quickly.

You couldn't help but chuckle at her remark.

"She's charming enough to keep my husband occupied," you said wryly, a hint of bitterness in your tone.

"Tell me everything you know," you demanded, your voice steady despite the rage burning within you.

"She's a blonde and quite tall, with red eyes," Erica began, and Grace nodded in agreement.

"They also seem to be close. Every time we saw them, they were closely huddled together," Erica continued.

"They would whisper, but we didn't see them being intimate or kiss. They mostly met in the forest or inside the stables," Grace added, her voice tinged with concern.

Meeting a woman in secret usually hinted at an affair behind one's wife's back.

"Alright, please keep an eye on them, but don't put yourselves in danger. If Eris finds out, tell him that I, as his wife, had ordered you two to keep an eye on him. If he asks why, tell him he should confront me, as it is our business," you instructed firmly. Both Erica and Grace nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.

You stood up, inhaling deeply to steady yourself, and forced a smile at them.

At least now you knew the truth: he had used the tonic, used you for pleasure, lied, cheated, and deceived you. The realization made you feel sick to your stomach. You wanted to take a bath again and scrub your skin.

You knew you had to get out of this situation, whether dead or alive, though preferably alive. Perhaps you could even stage your own death to escape his grasp once and for all.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Main Taglist: @bubybubsters

303 notes · View notes

julsvu · 1 month

Text

hoo characters as small things that bring people comfort

tags. fluff, lowk self-indulgent, corny as hell, gn! reader, implied relationship, not proofread

annabeth chase is the human embodiment of books, just like the ones she reads often. just like the ones she'd read to you; either rambling about how amazingly accurate it is, or how it just didn't reach her approval due to the font being hard to read. like a book, she's hard to understand. you'd have to be reading her first pages for you to grasp her fully, and stay even when the pages seem to be ripping itself apart; stay until her last page, and she'll remain until yours. together, you'll make a new book of your own, and make sure to never let the readers reach the ending. it's non-existent, annabeth is sure of it.

you don't know if it's because percy jackson was the son of Poseidon or not, but his presence feels the same way as warm water hugging your body, giving tingles all over your skin. after a long day, a warm shower is just what you need; once percy sees his lover look exhausted, he immediately thinks of ways to take care of them. warm showers always helped; like percy, it'd hug your body, wash away all the "filth" off your figure. like warm showers, percy kisses the things that you deem ugly on your body, and his words "wash" away your insecurities.

like frank zhang, the gentle flicker of a scented candle calms your every nerve, just like the small whispers you and frank exchange secretly. scented candles may melt away, but its' scent lingers, staying with you until its' very last breath. frank wishes to do the same, just like a scented candle. he wants to be around you, filling your environment with his presence. would you be willing to be the light to his candle, one day?

piper mclean's embodies the essence of a cup of herbal tea flawlessly. just like the soothing warmth and comforting scent of herbal tea, the daughter of Aphrodite emits a calming presence, wherever her feet brings her. whenever you pour out your heart, her empathetic gaze reflects your emotions like ripples on a small pond. in her presence, you feel engulfed by a sense of serenity, as if every worry melts away like sugar dissolving in hot water. and just like a cup of herbal tea, piper leaves you feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, with just her mere words of affection, only catered towards you, only.

roses are gorgeous, and their sharp thorns protect their bloom, piercing through anyone's skin with ease. hazel levesque is someone you'd see as a rose. together, you and hazel create a tapestry of shared experiences, each moment acts like a delicate petal adding depth to your connection. like a rose's thorns, the daughter of pluto harbors hidden strength underneath her freckled figure. her words keep shining through adversity like the vibrant hues of a rose in full bloom. most of those words contain the promises she had given you. just as a rose brings color and fragrance to the world, hazel brings light and warmth to those around her, especially to you, her dear lover.

leo valdez's little acts of affection give the same feeling of a warm, weighted blanket. well, the son of Hephaestus himself acts like a blanket sometimes; his body naturally eradicates the cold temperature. weighted blankets don't get pushed away too easily, and leave a lingering feeling of their weight once you remove them from your body. like a weighted blanket, leo valdez doesn't allow you to push him away. no matter what you're saying; as long as leo's around, your words don't ever fall on deaf ears. his words linger in your mind, and they're always sickeningly sweet.

jason grace's arms offer you the same, if not, better protection of a shield. jason stands tall and resolute, similar to the shields you'd see in the armory. his presence itself is a sturdy shield; sure, you may not see it, but you can feel it shielding you from the harsh blows of life's battles whenever he is around. just as a shield provides a sense of security in the midst of chaos, his presence anchors you into a calm sea. like a shield, he is willing to hold your hand no matter the place or time, and his heart of steel melts into your presence, pouring its' contents shamelessly.

if moonlit nights were a person, nico di angelo is a perfect example. like the soft glow of the moon, the son of Hades provides a quiet and steady presence, offering solace with his calm demeanor. he holds your hand, playing with your fingers while you ramble about your daily life. the midnight sky would be the grass of the spot you guys secretly claimed at camp; the same way the moon does, nico rests in the midnight sky, knowing he'll wake up in your arms, his one and only star; the one that stays with the moon.

will solace's smile is brighter than a sunrise whenever he's with you. his lips slowly curl up, until his mouth successfully turns into a toothy grin. like a sunrise, the blond never fails to remind you that every day is a new start; a new beginning. you don't need to do anything drastic to fulfill yourself. because everything restarts the moment the sunrise appears. maybe it was because he was the son of Apollo, or for another unknown reason. all you knew was that like sunrises, will solace never fails to greet you early in the morning and give you cheeky, little kisses filled with love; dripping from his very heart.

#heroes of olympus x reader #hoo x reader #annabeth chase x reader #percy jackson x reader #piper mclean x reader #hazel levesque x reader #leo valdez x reader #jason grace x reader #will solace x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #nico di angelo x reader

336 notes · View notes

i-am-hungry-24-7 · 29 days

Note

Hiii, i love your work so much. Thank you for writing those beautifull stories.

Could I ask you to write the story about ghost x reader based on this?

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C6mnJpELBf_/?igsh=Y2ExOXVmYWNrNmlh

And could you make happy ending bout them, please?

Thank you❤

~~🐬~~

Hello 🐬 anon! OMG I have a new sea creature anon yay (collecting pokemons??) tyvm for the request and praises I'm in tears🥹💖 and this is such a nice trope to write!! I kinda based on a little drabble I wrote weeks ago (the husband!Simon and car crash wife!Reader), and I hope you will enjoy this since I think this is full of warmth 💖

Husband!Simon*F!Reader.

Summary: You wake up from a car crash and suffer temporary amnesia, your husband Simon helps you with it, and your room is always decorated with your favorite flower by him.

Till It Blooms Again

It’s raining outside.

Rainy days usually bring you tranquility, or that’s what your instincts tell you, but you doubt the preciseness of it after you’ve been told that you temporarily lost your memory due to the severe head smash you got from the car crash a week ago.

You don’t even know why you woke up on the bed in a silent ward, the dull headache and the pain from your broken ankle set in first, then followed by the man – bulky, wearing a face mask to cover his features, but as his surprisingly soft eyes landed on you, and reassured you in a gentle tone that doesn’t match him, you were utterly confused.

Because who was he?

The masked man cooed in a low voice, trying his best not to frighten you, but the shock in his eyes was truly more overwhelming than yours when you spoke the first sentence since you recovered from your coma.

“Who are you?”

Now fidgeting the ring he gave you before he left to grab you some food, you trace your thumb along the names imprinted inside the ring. Simon and your name engraved the promise of your love towards each other on the ring, yet you stare at the words that just sting you every time you read it slowly in your mind.

“So– Sorry, are you okay?”

Apologies spilled profusely out of your mouth as the man in front of you stiffed immediately, your words were like lightning to him, as he got struck and left in a trance, until the reality settled in. An audibly shaky breath escaped him, with him blinking furiously, as if it could dispel the grief that started clouding in his brown eyes.

“Yeah, don’t worry.” it isn’t difficult to sense the fake calmness covering his voice, but of course, you didn’t mention it “The doctors said you might have lost your memories from the hit. I’m just not expecting it to truly happen.”

“hmmm… May I ask your name, Sir?”

“Name’s Simon.”

“Simon, why are you here?”

“...I’m your husband. We’ve married five years ago.” and that’s the information you managed to process and believe even if you can’t recognize him from that day.

The vow on the ring stings you. You feel sorry. sorry for the man who stares at you with endless affection swirling in his brown eyes, but you’re unable to return the feelings as all you can barely come up with is your name.

An imperceptible creak barely catches your attention, as Simon steps in with lunch in his left hand, and an elegant flower bouquet you're unable to recognize hugging closely to his toned body carefully.

“Wow, what are they?” You point at the flowers as you dig a hint of pink out of your sparsity

memories.

“Rain Lilies.” He puts them into the bottle on the bed table while responding. “Sure you will like them, love”

He’s not wrong, the peaceful purple provides a serene calmness to your hollow heart.

The bitterness aching and burning in your chest from the day you woke up, devouring you from inside, magically when Simon’s by your side, it subsides.

“Thank you…” staring at the petals, you grin and meet Simon’s eyes, and he reaches out his hand, but halts suddenly in the air.

“It’s okay.”

So his palm shakes with hesitation and touches your hair. and ruffles a few times.

You search your mind again, just like what you did every minute from the day you were awake. It’s still occupied by an eerie blank, obscuring you to seek if the man now treats you with such fondness is in there.

Yet you lean into his touch no matter, the warmth that can console you like no others.

You must be a lucky woman to have him wish you with his whole life.

One month later, you’re back to the house where you used to live with Simon – confirmed by friends and family that you regained your knowledge to.

The gray staining your mind is fading day by day, and you start to remember some people and things, such as your name, friends you met in high school, your cousin…

Simon isn’t one of them. You still can’t find him in your past.

The guiltiness sprouts every time you see him. The man never left your side from the first day in the hospital room, helps you shower, chants you goodnight, and teaches you how the world operates.

“It’s okay, there’s no need to feel sorry for.” He hugs you, trying not to squeeze too tightly and scare you off with overloaded intimacy.

This is a habit you two own when you startle awake one night, panting as blood haunts you in hallucinations. You were floating away from reality, arms wiggling in order to anchor yourself from wandering away, and your chest heaves more intensely every second until a pair of heating hands wrap yours.

“I’m here, it’s okay, you’re safe, love.” The owner of the voice recited it repeatedly until you focused on him.

There’s Simon, with tired and languid eyes, rubbing circles to soothe your panic. You almost teared up the moment you realized he jumped into comfort you the second he was woken by your noises.

“May I hug you…?" After he shushed you from apologizing, you asked him with irresolution. The coffee-like eyes never darted from your figure widened when he took in your words, but softened with him opening his arms.

“Of course, love.”

He slowly closured them and caged you within his embrace. It’s too conciliatory, his temperature broke the clothes and radiated on you, tempting you to lean closer against him.

You understood that was what you were missing and craving, so you always requested one attentively when you felt insecure, so as he always answered with equal adoration and wide arms.

and now he offers you again when he reads you like an open book and senses your unhappiness.

“Take it slow, you don’t need to force yourself to remember.” He caresses your back as he reassures you.

“What if I never got those memories back?”

“Then let’s create new memories together.”

You know he clearly isn’t as composure to your situation as his exterior when you pull back and notice him blinking frequently, struggling to turf out the tears gathering and sneaking out.

“Yeah, let’s create new memories together.” The smile finally reappears on your face.

Simon decorates the house with rain lilies, which you love the most, and you assume that’s your favorite flower in the past either, since Simon never questioned your obsession with it but put them all over each spot of the house.

So when you suggest buying seeds and planting them at the idle little garden in the backyard, Simon heads out to the tools straight away and comes back with a bag full of seeds for different colors of rain lilies.

“There! Plant the pink one!” The golden velvet of sunshine covers you both when Simon kneels on the ground with you sitting in your wheelchair beside him and instructing him.

“There’s like ten pink already but only one yellow.”

“Any questions, Mr. Riley?”

“Negative, ma’am” He chuckles as he turns back to fiddle with the soil.

When the sky is smeared with orange, the little garden is finally settled.

“Thank you, Simon!” You flash him a smile when he gets to his feet once again, and you just can't help but smother the dirt on his face, till his cheeks are a bit dirty.

"You look so cute like this." You whistle as he bears your cheekiness and unmoved as you poke him.

"I suggest you to check your eyes, ma'am"

Your journal is filled with the things you experienced, and the memories revealed from the barrier of blurriness. Sometimes you still stare at the whole room of rain lilies, wondering why you still don’t remember the memories between you and Simon, and you want to know if Simon’s thinking the same when he puts on the fresh flowers every week.

It’s definitely a lie if you say you don’t care about the past with him anymore, you’re still curious about how you met, and where you went before.

“We went to a park on our first date?" You quirk your eyebrow with confusion when Simon shows you the photos taken before.

“You chose it, You said there was a sea of rain lilies there and you wanted to check it out.

“I don’t know I’m such an unromantic person to choose a park as the place for a first date…”

“Surely are, because you threw me surrounded by a bunch of bloody couples and dived into the flowers yourself.

“Damn…”

The journal records how the rain lilies grow in your backyard too. When it’s nearly sunset, Simon will support you to the garden and observe them.

“We really need more rain huh. They’re only little sprouts now”

“That’s why they’re called rain lilies.”

“Thank you, Simon, I’m not an idiot.”

“You know water’s wet?”

“You think you married a dork?”

These banters will be written into your journal with an unconscious grin spreading along your lips.

One morning you’re woken up by the obnoxious burnt smell, and you swear that’s the fastest you drag your feet to the living room after you injure your ankle.

“What happened?! Simon?! You okay?!”

You swing open the door to the kitchen when you don’t spot him and the concern swirling in your body.

“...”

You both stand in silence as you look between the plate in Simon’s hand and his embarrassed face.

“This is… uh…”

You watch him blabber as you pick a piece of half-burnt cookie from the plate and take a bite.

“Wow… ehh… this is good, Simon. I mean I guess.”

“The bloody frown on your face said the opposite.”

Eventually, you both burst into laughter when you shove the rest of the piece into his mouth and his face turns into disgust instantly.

He tells you the recipe and process – which you doubt at first but still write them in your journal because he claims it’s the cookie you always made him – and you can’t wait to bake him when you’re able to move around at your own will freely.

You know he can’t stay at home and accompany you every day, but when he packs his stuff in a bag before he leaves, you still can’t help the sadness fuming in you.

“I’ll be back soon, just a month or two.” He pulls you into a hug when you stand at the front door and watch him put on his shoes with a tiny pout.

“I just want you safe, I can wait.” you sigh in his arms, and eventually push him back to fish out a thing stuffed carefully in your pocket, and show it to him.

An amulet lies in the center of your palm. The edge of it is slightly crooked, and a dried rain lily is pasting on it.

"I understand if you think this is stupid, it's just... ummm."

"It's not stupid." he snatches it from your hand "I love it."

"Stay safe, okay?"

He nods to you before stepping out the threshold.

Unknown to you, he presses a kiss on the one you just handed him, and the one you gifted him years ago and always kept in his pocket wherever he went.

The rainy season arrives after a month since Simon was deployed.

You watch the garden through the window as the raindrops splatter on the glass.

Rain lilies bloom abundantly after rain, and counting the days, you're sure when Simon gets back home, the flowers will blossom to their full extent.

You take over his work of replacing the rain lilies in the house with fresh ones, to make the house just like it was before he left.

It doesn’t feel the same.

You stare at the pink rain lily in your grasp.

The house just doesn’t feel the same without Simon, even though they’re still arranged with your favorite flowers.

But isn’t it why you like them? They blossom the most after the rain, after the clouds and dark which make people depressed. It’s most beautiful when they confront the gloominess.

Just like every time you wait at home for months, pray for him to come back in one piece, and cuddle on the bed after reunion.

You hold your breath when you remember the reason you like rain lilies so much.

That’s why you love the rain lily. You remind yourself again as you rush to grab your journal.

You saunter to the front door when you hear the noise of fidgeting keys behind.

“Hey, love.”

Simon greets you with an exhausted voice, pats you on your shoulder, and bends down to untie his shoes, but he stops and straightens up when he hears your greetings.

“Hey, Si.”

His eyes are round like a full moon and mixed with disbelief and excitement.

“You– You call me what?”

“I said…” He tumbles over and lands on the ground with you as you drag him into a tight embrace “Welcome back, Si.”

You caress his hair when he buries his face in your chest and hugs back adamantly, trembles are restrained to its minimum, yet it’s unignorable when you two squish your bodies as if trying to merge together so it’s impossible to be separate again.

“I made your favorite cookies, perfect ones, unlike yours." You hear him huff out a laugh against your chest.

“How about the rain lilies?”

“They’re beautiful, let’s see them together now?”

“Sounds good.”

The flowers flutter like a pink stream combined with a few yellows in the breeze, and you both set eyes on them, basking in the sun.

“I remember why I love rain lilies.” You shift to meet his gaze, and that’s the moment you discover he’s already been staring at you. “They flourish after heavy rains, just like each time I wait for you to come back, that’s when I become complete.”

“Feeling poetic today?”

“Already told you I’m a smart woman.”

Simon’s tummy growls with agreement when you finish your sentence.

“You hungry, big boy?" You snicker, and start walking him back into the house.

"I want to eat the biscuits.”

“No snacks before the meal, babe.”

“Then I want lasagne.”

“Okay… hey I just said no snacks before the meal! you idiot!”

You scoff when Simon ignores you and starts stuffing his mouth with your freshly baked cookies like a hamster, and the rain lilies beside him come into your sight again.

Yeah, just like rain lily. After an unnerving storm, everything will bloom again.

a/n: tyvm for reading! have a nice day/night! :D

#cod imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #queued post

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astrojulia · 9 months

Text

Astro Observations from the Deep Sea #4

~Taurus houses edition

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♀⟶11th house Taurus approach to friendships is pragmatic. They seek out individuals who share common interests and values, forging lasting and meaningful connections. While their social circle may not be vast, they hold a deep appreciation for the relationships they cultivate.

♀⟶12th house Taurus possess a serene and forgiving nature when at ease, which is complemented by their strong work ethic in a comfortable environment. In times of emotional challenge, they may grapple with bouts of depression.

♀⟶2nd house Taurus are gifted with a natural talent for handling money, and their reputation for dependability in financial matters precedes they. When it comes to investments and savings, they have a realistic and grounded approach. Yes, they can be a tad stubborn when financial advice is offered, but that stubbornness has often protected their wealth in the past.

♀⟶10th house Taurus+Virgo Rising harbor a deep-seated drive to achieve professional goals, often displaying intense focus on their work.

♀⟶While 3rd house Taurus may enjoy the occasional short trip, they find comfort in staying close to home for their business endeavors. Their warm and outgoing personality endears they to friends, family, and neighbors alike. Their relationships are a source of joy and fulfillment, and they make sure to keep in touch regularly.

♀⟶8th house Taurus may currently experience emotional discomfort, stemming from a sense of disharmony and insecurity in their life. This unease may have surfaced during challenging experiences with loved ones, awakening possessiveness and inflexibility within they.

♀⟶For 5th house Taurus singing is more than a pastime; it's an expression of their soul's deepest desires. They take their time to savor and create the finer things in life.

♀⟶In social circles, 9th house Taurus are the reliable friend who approaches situations with a level head and offers practical solutions. Their down-to-earth nature and commitment to success are their secret weapons.

♀⟶While they're open to new perspectives, there's a firmness in 3rd house Taurus beliefs that can be both reassuring and unyielding. Precision and attention to detail are their allies, making they a natural fit for fields like finance and mathematics.

♀⟶While 9th house Taurus might take a bit longer to reach their goals, they're unwavering in their commitment to their own pace, finding fulfillment in the progress they make. Their steadfastness is a guiding light that helps they surmount any obstacles that cross their path.

♀⟶4th house Taurus inviting personality makes they a beloved family member, and they take immense pride in creating a cozy haven that reflects their earthy and sensual nature. Loved ones bask in the tranquility they provide.

♀⟶Practicality and pragmatism are 2nd house Taurus guiding lights when it comes to managing their finances. Security and convenience are their companions on this monetary journey.

♀⟶Although 9th house Taurus path may meander before settling into a clear direction, they have an unwavering belief that they'll eventually uncover a practical solution that suits they. While stepping out of their comfort zone may not be their forte, when they do, they navigate new experiences with straightforward gusto.

♀⟶6th house Taurus begin their tasks with a deliberate, measured stride, often at a slower pace than others. Stress and tension are strangers to they, as they possess a calm and worry-free demeanor even in the face of challenges.

♀⟶The driving force behind 8th house Taurus actions is a strong desire for material possessions and pleasures, fueled by a thirst for power and control. Yet, this material focus can sometimes lead to chaos and destruction, leaving they feeling anything but secure.To overcome these inner struggles, they must find a source of security within theirself that cannot be easily taken away. By releasing their grip on material possessions, they can begin to lessen the negative impact of possessive tendencies.

♀⟶The accumulation of possessions, particularly in monetary terms, is a significant measure of success for 10th house Taurus. Careers in financial realms, such as accounting, stocks, bonds, or banking, hold great potential. Additionally, their artistic and creative talents could provide financial gains or enhance their reputation.

♀⟶Change may be met with resistance to Taurus Rising, but it's essential to keep an open mind. New ideas and experiences can enrich their life's tapestry in ways they can't even fathom. Trust their instincts, honor their values, and they'll continue to craft a life that's not just well-integrated but deeply fulfilling.

♀⟶Artistic expression flows through 3rd house Taurus effortlessly, and pursuits like music, painting, and sculpting call to they like old friends. Consider nurturing these talents, perhaps even pursuing a formal education in one of these fields.

♀⟶7th house Taurus from 10º to 19º possess a magnetic ability to attract supportive companions who share their drive and ambition. Their partnerships and friendships often stand the test of time, offering mutual benefits.

♀⟶Once they establish theirself in a profession, 10th house Taurus value control and are unlikely to change career paths. Work and relaxation alternate in their life, and they possess qualities such as purpose, resistance, tolerance, narcissism, and mistrust.

♀⟶12th house Taurus invites they to transcend the material world and delve into the realm of the subconscious. To ensure a harmonious life, it's crucial to steer clear of legal issues and negative conflicts with others. This is especially significant if they've achieved financial success, as envy and undermining behaviors may surface. Even in matters of the heart, jealousy can rear its head, potentially causing turbulence. It's vital to approach relationships with honesty and openness to maintain equilibrium.

♀⟶While 11th house Taurus may encounter challenges in finding their place in society, their sense of security and fulfillment is derived from personal relationships. They select their associates carefully, recognizing that the right friendships can pave the way for wealth accumulation and promising opportunities. Their approach to building and nurturing relationships is a key factor in their overall happiness and success.

♀⟶10th house Taurus+Cancer Rising possess a capacity for hard work, but they also treasure leisure time, enjoying holidays and entertainment.

♀⟶When 7th house Taurus from 20º to 29º make a commitment, they do so with a profound dedication. Even in challenging times, they remain resolute in maintaining strong bonds. Their environment and surroundings greatly influence their relationships, and they deeply appreciate those who uplift and support they.

♀⟶Time spent with friends is enriched by creative activities that bring 11th house Taurus joy and fulfillment. Their friendships play a crucial role in their journey toward success, as they understand the power of collaboration and mutual support.

♀⟶7th house Taurus from 0º to 9º commitment to nurturing close relationships is unwavering. Remember to strike a balance between their needs and those of their partner, fostering openness to compromise.

♀⟶In matters of the heart, 7th house Taurus are a believer in the slow burn of love. Quick flings and superficial attractions do not satisfy their soul. They understand the importance of taking their time to build a meaningful connection that transcends the physical realm. However, be mindful of their inclination to hold onto a relationship even when its flame flickers. Their attachment can sometimes hinder their growth, especially if the connection wanes in the realm of intimacy. Their sense of security is most profound when they're in the company of a dependable, loyal partner who cherishes commitment as much as they do.

♀⟶6th house Taurus unhurried approach, while it may take longer to accomplish tasks, bestows upon they a daily routine steeped in peace and enjoyment. Yet, this leisurely pace can impact their physical health, leading to extended recovery periods from illnesses and colds.

♀⟶7th house Taurus colleagues find solace in their calming influence. Patience and common sense are their tools for resolving conflicts, making they a cherished team member. Their dedication to long-term relationships extends beyond the personal realm, as they value love and affection above all else. Marriage, in particular, is a sacred commitment they approach with utmost seriousness.

♀⟶If solitude and isolation beckon to 12th house Taurus, consider pursuing a spiritual path, such as joining a monastery or embracing religious beliefs. While they prioritize security, they may not always invite it into their life as readily as they should, which can create an illusion of instability.

♀⟶6th house Taurus resilience and high resistance to ailments are remarkable. Their body can handle demanding physical activities when necessary. It's worth noting that their hearty appetite and fondness for rich foods can sometimes lead to overindulgence.

♀⟶11th house Taurus objectives are pursued with patience and planning, driven by the knowledge that hard work and determination will lead to their desired outcomes. Along this path, their close friendships provide not only support but also opportunities for growth.

♀⟶A harmonious home is 4th house Taurus top priority, and they express their creativity through the art of home decor. Music, a cherished companion, fills their family life with harmony, and they love sharing this passion with their kin.

♀⟶2nd house Taurus desire for wealth is fueled by an appetite for luxurious and valuable items. They may occasionally indulge in impulse purchases, but overall, their approach to money is practical, and they excel in business. With their financial acumen, quick monetary gains are well within their reach.

♀⟶4th house Taurus are a nurturing cornerstone of their family. Cherishing traditions and the comforts of home, they embody the essence of warmth and reliability.

♀⟶10th house Taurus charming demeanor and sensual allure make they stand out in professional circles. While they maintain close friendships, it's essential not to rely too heavily on them for their sense of security.

♀⟶9th house Taurus dedication to their studies has yielded academic success, and they've developed a wealth of patience and persistence through worldly experiences.

♀⟶8th house Taurus> possess a remarkable ability for stillness, which serves as a valuable coping mechanism once true healing begins. In matters of intimacy, they approach emotions directly and calmly, viewing sex as a physical and sensual connection. To build lasting sexual bonds, it's crucial to first find comfort within their own skin and gain a profound understanding of theirself.

♀⟶As 4th house Taurus age, tranquility and relaxation hold even greater appeal. Their natural intuition for financial and real estate matters is a precious gift to their family. Accumulating wealth and valuable possessions to provide for their loved ones is a legacy they proudly carry forward.

♀⟶Taurus Rising loyalty and commitment to both relationships and possessions are a testament to their admirable character. They prioritize authenticity, and fulfilling their obligations is a sacred duty. In their heart, there's an unshakable stamina and endurance, especially when it comes to those they hold dear.

♀⟶Learning something new may take time to 3rd house Taurus, but their commitment knows no bounds. Once they embark on a learning journey, they see it through to the end, retaining the knowledge for life.

♀⟶10th house Taurus+Leo Rising please consider learning to delegate tasks to others rather than taking everything upon theirself.

♀⟶Childhood memories for 4th house Taurus are filled with love and joy, motivating they to recreate this atmosphere for their own family. Safety and security are paramount, and they thrive in spacious, nature-connected environments.

♀⟶While 5th house Taurus may initially be captivated by a luxurious lifestyle, they're not one to remain stagnant. They seek new experiences once the initial excitement wanes. Their pleasant personality and positive outlook make they a magnetic presence in social settings, and their artistic talents earn admiration from peers who share their interests.

♀⟶Taurus Rising approach to life is deliberate and methodical. Every decision, every step, is taken with utmost care and consideration. Their inner world is a place where every thought, every feeling, is carefully weighed and placed in its proper position.

♀⟶Trusting their intuition has served 2nd house Taurus well, yet expanding their financial knowledge, especially regarding institutions like banks and brokerages, could open new doors to prosperity. Their heart beats with a deep passion for the arts and entertainment industries, promising potential financial success.

♀⟶There's a natural sensuality within 5th house Taurus that draws others like moths to a flame. Their steady and deliberate nature exudes a magnetic charm, igniting passion in those fortunate enough to cross their path.

♀⟶7th house Taurus seek someone who not only supports they but also shares their unwavering sense of loyalty. While financial success is not the sole factor in their quest for love, it certainly holds an allure. The ideal partner for they is sensual, someone who can sustain a long-term relationship built on trust and commitment.

♀⟶Taurus Rising possess a remarkable moral compass, a guiding star that steers they towards what truly matters in life. Stability and dependability are their constant companions, and they're motivated by the comforting embrace of material security. But, oh, the siren song of comfort can be alluring, and they must take care not to become too complacent in their cozy nest.

♀⟶3rd house Taurus communication style is engaging, and their words carry a weight of thoughtfulness that captivates those who listen.

♀⟶5th house Taurus childhood was likely filled with moments of indulgence and relaxation, shaping their preference for a leisurely approach to creative pursuits. When it comes to children, their nurturing nature shines through. They may have high expectations, but they are always balanced with their kind and caring demeanor.

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frogspond200 · 9 months

Text

𝚂𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝙿𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚔𝚘𝚟

Requested by: Anon

Ask: Hey, I really REALLY. enjoyed you Simon Hcs, Could you do one for just normal and not yandered, please😫🙏🙏💓

Warnings: None

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Simon absolutely adores you. He worships the ground you walk on, your presence has brought a sense of stability and warmth into his life that he thought was lost forever.

Simon loves reading with you. Whether it's ancient scrolls, magical tomes, or simply a good storybook, he enjoys the companionship and discussions that come with it.

There is some residual angst in the relationship due to Simon's deep longing for Betty. While he's found happiness with you, he still carries the pain of losing his beloved Betty. Your understanding and support help him through these moments of melancholy.

Simon is a fan of cuddling. He finds solace in your arms, and the physical closeness reassures him that he's not alone in his struggles. It's a way for both of you to express affection and provide comfort.

Simon occasionally lets you in on his scientific projects. He trusts you enough to share his findings, inventions, and research. Your curiosity and insights often contribute to the success of these projects. You and Simon make a dynamic team when it comes to problem-solving. Your fresh perspective and his vast knowledge often lead to innovative solutions to the challenges you encounter in the Land of Aaa.

While he continues to grapple with the effects of the crown and the loss of Betty, your presence serves as a source of hope and emotional support.

Simon occasionally surprises you with his musical talents, playing the guitar or singing songs he's composed. It's a beautiful way for him to express his emotions and share moments of joy with you. You help Simon regain his sense of self and independence. While you support him, you also encourage him to pursue his own interests and passions beyond his past and the crown.

Despite the complexities and challenges of your relationship, the love you share with Simon is unwavering. Together, you navigate the ups and downs of life in the Land of Aaa, always by each other's side.

Simon Petrikov tends to take things slow in a relationship, especially considering his complex past and the emotional baggage he carries as a result of the Ice King's crown. He's likely to proceed with caution, prioritizing emotional intimacy and trust-building before rushing into anything too fast. Simon values stability and a sense of security, so he would be mindful of not overwhelming the relationship with speed.

Simon Petrikov can indeed be a romantic partner who appreciates the beauty in small gestures. While he may not always have access to traditional roses, he would find creative ways to express his love and create romantic moments. For example, he might use magical flowers or other enchanting elements to create a path leading to a warm, cozy bath for you to enjoy together. Simon would certainly put effort into making your time together special and memorable…

To set the mood, Simon would light scented candles or diffuse essential oils with calming fragrances like lavender or vanilla. The soothing aromas would fill the air, creating a serene and peaceful environment for you to relax and unwind.

Simon is also a fan of playing board games or card games. He finds that they not only provide entertainment but also help to foster a sense of togetherness and friendly competition.

You can spend hours laughing, strategizing, and creating fond memories while staying warm and cozy indoors.

And of course, Simon's musical talents come into play here as well. He might serenade you with a beautiful song on his guitar or share some enchanting melodies on the piano, adding a touch of magic and romance to the cozy atmosphere.

#x reader #simon x reader #simon petrikov #simon petrikov x reader #simon petrikov x reader adventure time #adventure time x reader #fionna and cake #simon x reader adventure time #Simon x reader fionna and cake #Simon Petrikov fionna and cake #Simon Petrikov x reader fionna and cake #simon fionna and cake #simon adventure time #Simon Petrikov adventure time

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iburnedmyselfalive · 5 months

Text

TIRED WHISPERS

just a lil thing i wrote when i was sleepy, overwhelmed & sick !!

"Ani," you uttered, the fatigue and frustration evident in your voice, almost on the verge of tears.

His gentle voice provided solace as he responded, "Hmm?"

“I'm so tired," you whined, heading to your shared bedroom to change into comfortable clothes.

"Come here, my love," he beckoned, arms open wide as he enveloped you in a comforting hug. Planting kisses on your forehead, and then he then bent down to gently peck your lips.

Anakin, familiar with your tendency to get overwhelmed, reassured, "'m here, baby, and I'm not going anywhere. You're okay." His soothing words calmed you.

And, he suggested, "Let's get in bed, yeah? I'll tingle your head," accompanied by a playful grin. You nodded, laughing at his endearing ways.

Work always brought you immense stress, and when he tenderly laid you down, expressing his love, it triggered a surge of tears.

Overwhelmed, you felt a comforting "I got you" as tears streamed down. Held close, your head on his chest, you listened to his heartbeat. His hand gently tingled your scalp as you sniffled.

“You're okay, baby. You're okay," he reassured, noticing your heavy breathing during the occurring panic attack.

"Just breathe f’me," he gently cooed, his voice a soothing anchor. Anakin continued to hold you close, his reassuring presence enveloping you.

“Focus on your breath, love. In and out," he whispered, guiding you through calming breaths.

As your panic began to subside, he softly added, "You're safe with me, always." His steady support and comforting words gradually eased the grip of anxiety, creating a tranquil space in the midst of the storm.

Sensing your lingering tension, he gently pulled away to fetch a glass of water.

Returning, he offered it to you, saying, "Drink some, sweetheart, it'll help." Though reluctant, he insisted, and you took a few sips as he held the glass.

With care, he set the water aside and then guided you back to the bed, wrapping a comforting blanket around you.

"Let's watch your favorite movie here, okay?" He said, understanding the power of familiar comforts. He selected the film and settled down beside you, creating a cocoon of warmth within the bedroom.

As the movie played, he continued to run his fingers through your hair, maintaining a reassuring touch.

Slowly, the combination of the movie's familiarity, his comforting presence, and the rhythmic motion of his fingers through your hair worked their magic.

Anakin noticed your tense shoulders gradually relaxing, and he whispered, "Just let go, my love. You're safe,”

As the storyline unfolded on the screen, he felt you leaning into the peace it provided. Anakin's gaze softened with affection as he admired your resilience.

Sensing that sleep was the next step towards healing, he adjusted the pillows and encouraged you to lie down properly.

With a gentle kiss on your forehead, he murmured,

“Close your eyes. I'm right here." His soothing presence persisted as you succumbed to the tranquility, the movie's soundtrack and his tender touch guiding you into a serene slumber within the comforting confines of the bedroom.

“Sleep peacefully, darling. Tomorrow is a new day, and I'll be right here with you." With a final tender kiss, Anakin let the quietude of the room cradle you both into a restful night.

i wrote this so long ago help, anywho i hope you enjoyed <33 i have more recent stuff on the way!!

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin x you #anakin fanfiction #star wars anakin #sw anakin #fluff #obi wan and anakin #anakin and padme #anakin and ahsoka #aesthetic #star wars

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yoonavii · 9 months

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Whispers in the Night (pt. 1)

OPLA! Sanji x Reader

A/N: I’ve decided to try writing in third person. It was a little difficult since im accustomed to writing in second, but I wanted to try something new. Hope you guys enjoy :)

The Going Merry sailed steadily under the vast canopy of stars, its wooden frame creaking softly as it glided through the calm waters of the Grand Line. The night was serene, the sky adorned with a tapestry of twinkling stars. On the ship, the Straw Hat Pirates rested, each finding their own corner of the ship to slumber. Amid the quietude of the night, you had somehow found yourself nestled in Sanji’s bunk. Such sleeping arrangements were not unusual among the Straw Hat crew; the bonds of camaraderie ran deep, and sharing bunks had become a natural occurrence.

As the night deepened, Sanji quietly entered his cabin. He had been engrossed in a late-night cooking session, his culinary skills dedicated to providing his crewmates with the best possible meal for the next day’s adventures. He didn’t want to disturb your slumber but felt an inexplicable urge to check on you. The soft, diffused light from the porthole bathed the room in a gentle, amber hue. Sanji’s sharp eyes fell upon your form, resting peacefully in his bunk, illuminated by the faint moonlight. In your sleep, you clutched a plushie close to your chest, your lips curled into a serene smile.

With the grace that was second nature to him, Sanji silently approached your sleeping figure. A sense of tenderness washed over him as he observed your relaxed expression; you looked like an angel in repose. And then, as if carried by the whispering night breeze, he heard it—a soft, barely audible whisper that made his heart skip a beat.

“Sanji…”

He blinked, questioning whether he had imagined it. But there it was again, your sweet voice, calling his name. It was soft and tender, like the murmur of leaves in a gentle breeze. Sanji’s heart quickened as he leaned in closer, his curiosity piqued. He realized that you were not awake; you were deep in the throes of a dream. Somehow, he had become a part of your dreamscape.

A faint blush warmed his cheeks. Hearing you say his name, not in distress or worry but with a happy lilt, filled him with a sense of wonder and delight. It was as though, in the sanctuary of your dreams, you were expressing a sentiment that your waking self might never utter. Sanji listened attentively, his azure eyes focused solely on you. He couldn’t help but smile, a mixture of joy and tenderness swelling in his chest. Your sleeping form and the way you softly murmured his name were enchanting, like a melody that had been composed just for him.

Respecting your slumber, Sanji decided not to wake you. He settled into a nearby chair, his gaze fixed on you with an affectionate and protective air. The moonlight played upon your features, casting gentle shadows, and painting you in an ethereal light. As the night wore on and the Going Merry continued its tranquil journey, your dreams seemed to grow brighter. The happiness that radiated from you, accompanied by those whispered words, filled Sanji’s heart with warmth and contentment.

He knew that when morning came, you might not remember these moments, but he would cherish them. Sanji remained in his quiet vigil, watching over you as the night unfolded—a silent promise that he would always be there, both in your dreams and in the waking world, to protect and care for you. And so, the night on the Going Merry continued, two souls intertwined in the realm of dreams, a secret confession of affection exchanged through whispered words—a promise that would endure long after the stars had faded into morning’s dawn.

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mynahx3 · 3 months

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Return of a Favor

This is another addition to the, Love Through the Ages collab by @kentopedia. It is a piece inspired by the Japanese Folk Tales Tsuru no Ongaeshi ( "Crane's Return of a Favor"). Nanami x fem reader

Takes place in Edo era ish but def not that accurate Hope you enjoy lovelies!~

6.6k Warning this contains MATURE material. Please MDNI!!! 18+!!!! Contains a little blood, SMUT, pregnancy, and babies.

Snow billowed around the man as he walked. The harsh weather had drained his energy, slowing his movements. The basket's ropes uncomfortably dug into his shoulders as he trudged. Breathing heavily, he struggled against the resistance of the snow with each step. Eventually, he lost his balance and tumbled into the soft white blanket. Getting up with a huff he brushed the snow off him, determined to get home.

The man walking was on his way home, returning after a day in the village market. The market day involved hard work and sweat, resulting in minimal earnings that barely covered his costs. He crafted small wooden items and sold his vegetables to the town. With the snow, it was hard to bring his cart into town. Still, he made enough for himself.

Struggling up the hill, the snow reached his knees, gradually decreasing in intensity as he climbed. The harsh wind blowing snow and rain has faded away. Soft flakes of snow descended upon him, offering a fleeting pause in the midst of his journey.

Immersed in the serene stillness, he marveled at the snow-draped trees and the quiet expanse of the landscape. Despite the hardships he has faced recently, he kept going. He knew that tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, he found solace in the tranquility of the snow-covered landscape. The sense of accomplishment for making it through another day filled him with a quiet sense of pride.

In his moment of reflection, he was jolted back to reality by the sound of something crashing into branches and squaking nearby.

Piquing his interest, the man walked to where he heard the sound, curiosity winning him over. Pushing past the branches in his way, he cautiously walked forward.

In the bushes, not far from the path, lay a wounded crane. It weakly fluttered its wings on the ground, and an arrow was shot into one wing. Blood oozed from the wound, dyeing the feathers a deep crimson.

At the sight of the man, it squaked louder, trying to move away from him. The man approached slowly, speaking softly to try and calm the injured bird. He knew he had to act quickly to help save its life.

"Not here to hurt you, little thing." He spoke, hands raised to the small bird.

The crane continued to struggle to get away from the man. Their eyes were filled with fear. Slowly, the man went closer, taking his time to not scare the animal more. Seeing his calm nature, the bird began to calm down as well, watchful eyes on his form.

Still wary of the man, the crane tentatively allowed the man to approach and inspect its injuries. The man gently examined the bird, assessing the damage and figuring out the best way to help it.

Taking its wing into his hand, he saw the arrow; luckily, the wound didn't seem to bleed too much. With no other option, he petted the head of the crane, easing it for what he would do next.

The man carefully removed the arrow, causing the bird to let out a small cry of pain, floundering on the ground for a second as the man tried to calm it down. Ripping up a part of his robe, he began to tend to its wounds. The crane seemed to understand that he was trying to help; it looked at him with quizzical eyes. No longer was it fighting him, but instead, it seemed to trust him. The man felt relieved and reassured, knowing that he had successfully ensured the crane's safety in his care. He was happy he was close to home; the crane was in no condition to fly.

Now docile, the crane was easy for the man to carry back to his house, where he could provide it with proper care and attention.

The trek back home seemed faster, as he had a goal in mind now and the weather calmer. Going to his humble home he saw in the distance, it was a simple farmer's house; it was enough for him. It sat on a hill, overlooking the vast expanse of fields and forests. The man knew that the crane would have a peaceful and safe place to recover in his care.

Sliding back the doors, he gently placed the crane in a comfortable spot. In his home, there was a small table with worn cushions around it for tea across his kitchen. He had his room down the hall, along with a bathroom and spare room. While small, his home was cozy and filled with warmth. Quickly, he threw in another log to keep the fire going, moving the bird closer to rest next to him at the fire. Relaxing in his home, he rubbed his sore feet, sitting on an old cushion.

Glancing to the side, he was surprised to see the crane watching him from its bundle of blankets.

Tilting his head, he extended a hand, rubbing the top of the bird's head. It leaned into his touch, seemingly enjoying it. It gazed up at him with its big, grateful eyes. The man smiled, feeling a sense of peace and connection with the injured crane.

"You're a special bird, aren't you?" He whispered softly, feeling a sense of connection with the majestic creature. The crane closed its eyes in contentment, as if understanding his words.

"I'm sure you'll be ready to go back to the wind in no time. Just sit tight here for now. It may not be much, but it's home." He said this, patting the crane gently before slowly standing up and limping back to his own room. As he settled in for the night, he couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected companionship in the midst of his solitude.

The crane stayed with the man for a few months.

The injured crane kept the man company in his loneliness, bringing a sense of peace and connection to the man's isolated world. A routine of tending to their wound each night and sharing meals with it became a comforting ritual for the man, creating a bond that transcended words.

It often lay with him as he read, a skill his Danish grandfather taught him. The two enjoyed their time together. The crane's presence brought a sense of purpose and joy to the man's otherwise solitary existence.

This, of course, came to an end eventually.

Returning from another day in the market, he found the crane had left, a single feather left behind where it slept. While the man felt a pang of sadness at the bird's departure, he knew that their time together had brought him comfort and companionship when he needed it most. As he looked at the feather in his hand, he couldn't help but smile at the memories they had shared.

Little did the man know, the crane would remember this favor for the rest of its days, wishing to repay him.

~_~_~

Spring was now approaching, which was a relief for the man.

The cold, barren winter is becoming a memory with each sunny day. He would enjoy this time while he could before it rolled around again as a cruel reminder. A gentle breeze rolled through, swaying the branches of trees nearby.

The man relaxed in his home, screen doors open, sitting on the tatami mats.

His home had seen better days. The roof had a few leaks, and the walls were showing wear. But the man didn't mind, as long as he had a roof over his head. He was grateful for the simple life he led, surrounded by nature and the sounds of the countryside.

The setting sun beamed down on him in a pleasant warmth with a chill of the breeze, bringing a sense of peace and contentment to his heart. It was growing darker, but the man felt a sense of serenity enveloping him, knowing that he was exactly where he belonged. The soft glow of the lanterns inside his home beckoned him to come in and rest for the night. The man closed his eyes, taking in the sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling, grateful for the beauty that surrounded him.

Opening his eyes, he expected to see his small garden, but he was met with the sight of a woman walking along the road.

Tilting his head, he stood up as he squinted to get a better look at the unfamiliar figure. The woman looked lost, and he felt a sense of duty to offer her assistance in finding her way.

Seeing him, she seemed to brighten just at the sight, hurriedly walking faster. This confused him, his shoulders tensing as the woman came closer.

She was indeed beautiful, a rare sight in this secluded area. Wearing white, plain robes that served her no justice, her hair was done in a simple braid. As she approached, he noticed the desperation in her eyes, making him wonder what could have led her to this remote place. Despite his initial hesitation, he decided to approach her with a welcoming smile, ready to offer his help.

"Hello, sir." She greeted him with a polite bow of her head. "I seem to have lost my way; would you be able to point me in the right direction?"

"It's awfully late for a woman to be out." He said, in a deep voice, as he stepped off his porch, smiling at her softly. "I can help you find your way back, but it's not safe to be wandering for either of us at this hour."

She smiled back at him, looking at him with such affection that his heart skipped a beat. He felt a sense of familiarity in her eyes, but he shook it off. He would have remembered meeting a beauty like her.

"Thank you for your concern, sir," she replied, her eyes sparkling with gratitude. "I would appreciate your guidance back to town."

"I only say this in concern for your safety, but it's not best to travel in the dark, even in this part of the country. Bandits still lurk about." He starts, never leaving her eyes, getting immersed in them, lost in the moment with her. "May I offer my home for the night? I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing I left you to fend for yourself, and I can take you first thing at sunrise."

"That is very kind of you, sir," she said with a smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. "I would be grateful for your hospitality."

With a stutter and flushed face, she introduced herself, and her name sounded like a melody to his ears.

"It's a pleasure to meet you; my name is Nanami Kento."

Nanami extended his hand toward her, a warm smile gracing his lips as he welcomed her into his home. The night was filled with laughter and conversation, with a bond forming between them that felt like fate.

~_~_~

Since their meeting, Nanami and the woman have only seemed to get closer. She had always talked to him on her journey home from town. He often invited her to dinner when the hour was late.

Nanami had grown quite fond of her. In the short time that he knew her, Nanami felt his feelings grow for her. She was attentive and soft-spoken, yet her strong determination was something he found incredibly attractive. Her heart was as kind as her smile, and Nanami found himself drawn to her more and more with each passing day. Their connection felt effortless, as if they had known each other for a lifetime.

Gaining the nerve to ask her to marry him, he prepared a token of his affection. Using his skills, he carved an intricate hair pin with images of birds and flowers intertwined in the design, symbolizing their blossoming love. As far as he knew, she was unwed with no family in town. While he had little to his name, he was determined to make her happy and provide for her in any way he could. He hoped that she would see his sincerity and accept his offer of courtship.

Waiting at a nearby river overlooking the village, he played with a small bouquet of wildflowers he had picked for her, rehearsing in his mind what he would say when she arrived. The sound of her approaching footsteps filled him with a mix of excitement and nervousness, yet he was prepared to express his feelings for her. Still, he hid the bouquet behind his back.

She quickly walked to him, smiling brightly at him as she called his name. The flowers were in full bloom over them, and the petals fell around them.

Sitting with him on his blanket, she begins to ask about his day. He took a deep breath, feeling his nerves dissipate as he looked into her eyes. As they talked, he found himself captivated by her every word, grateful for the opportunity to share this moment with her. Speaking her name, he got her attention, feeling a tad guilty for interrupting her.

"I have something I want to give you." He showed her the flowers and hairpin, his cheeks red from the action.

She looked at him in shock, mouth agape, as she reached out to take the gifts.

"I have come to realize how much you mean to me," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I wanted to show you how much I care."

Tears formed in her eyes at his heartfelt words. The gifts were now in her lap. Her own heart fluttered with her emotions.

"I don't have much, but I can provide you with food, a roof over your head, and love until the end of our days." He said that he was now holding her hands.

Smiling, she leaned forward, looking into his eyes which were warm pools of amber and dark chocolate, golden in the sunlight. His blonde hair was blown in the breeze, and the smell of cherry blossoms wafted around them.

"And that's all I need," she replied softly, feeling overwhelmed with gratitude for his simple yet heartfelt offer. The love in his eyes reflected her own feelings, creating a bond that she knew would last a lifetime.

Overwhelmed by emotions, Nanami cupped her face, connecting their lips in a tender, loving kiss.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as they embraced each other, cherishing the love that bound them together. The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them in their own little bubble of happiness and affection.

~_~_~

The two married in a humble ceremony, one that was attended by only his closest friends and family but was filled with an abundance of love and joy. At the village shrine, the priest blessed their union, sealing their commitment to each other in the eyes of the divine. Nanami kneeled beside her, and the both of them took sips of their sake.

Nanami wore his father's black haori with a loose gray hakama. He felt the heavens bless him with the one beside him.

She wore a simple, pure white kimono with an outer robe and a crane on the front of it, symbolizing longevity and good fortune in their marriage. It was the same robe that his mother wore on her own wedding day, a gift from her, passing down a tradition of love and happiness. The wooden hairpin he gifted her sat proudly in the updo his mother helped her create, showcasing the intricate design.

He couldn't give her the lavish gifts one would on their wedding like he desired, but she was happy. They had food together near the river where he proposed. Loved ones gathered in the summer night, the sounds of cicadas around them.

His family happily cooked and helped prepare the meal, celebrating the union of their loved ones. The simple act of sharing a meal together by the river symbolized their commitment to each other and the beginning of their lives. The couple sat together, enjoying the night as one. Their hands intertwined, the sound of laughter and music filling the air. Lanterns aglow around them, filling the sky above.

As they looked into each other's eyes, they knew that their love was all they needed to start their new life together.

Later on that night, when everyone had departed, they went into his home—no, their home—as a couple now.

Shyly, he looked around his room. Tonight was to be the night they became one in every sense of the word. The room seemed to glow with a warm light from the candles, reflecting the love that filled their hearts.

They kneeled before each other, still in their last layer of clothes. Her hair flowed down on her shoulders now, draping her in a soft, romantic aura. His hands trembled slightly as he reached out to touch her face, a mixture of excitement and nervousness in his eyes. They both knew that this moment would change their lives forever.

Moving closer to him, she let him cup her face, her eyes gleaming at him with love and excitement. Her own hand cupping his softly.

"Do you wish to spend the rest of your life with me?" She whispered, her voice filled with emotion. "Even though I may not be the wife you always dreamed of, I promise to love you with all my heart."

He gazed into her eyes, his heart full of certainty, as he replied, "Yes, I do. I will cherish you always and forever, no matter what the future holds. With no regrets."

Leaning closer, he takes her lips in a kiss, growing more passionate with each passing second. The world around them seemed to fade away as they lost themselves in the moment, savoring the love that bound them together. Their hearts beat in unison as they shared a tender kiss, sealing their commitment to each other.

Gaining courage, he pushed her to lay on the futon, his hands tenderly traveling her body. Unraveling her kimono with a gasp from her lips, his calloused hands felt the softness of her flesh for the first time.

As their passion ignited, they became lost in each other, their bodies entwined in a dance of love and desire. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the connection they shared. Their clothes were shed, and the two of them were bare under the moonlight.

Gazing down at her, he lost himself in her beauty. She laid bare before him, cheeks flushed from their kisses. Her bare breasts were littered with marks he made. Legs on either side of his waist, the two of them ready to become one.

"I've never…" Nanami started, his cheeks a bright red, as he was about to confess his virginity to her. But before he could finish his sentence, she placed a finger on his lips, silencing him.

"You don't need to say it," she whispered, her eyes filled with understanding and affection. Her own cheeks equally as flushed. "I've never done this either."

Her confession eased his nerves, knowing they would explore this new experience together without any pressure or expectations. They both smiled, their hearts filled with excitement and anticipation for what was to come. Cupping his face, she brushed hair from his eyes and leaned in for a kiss, their tongues dancing together in a symphony of desire.

Clasping her hand, he rubbed himself on her slick cunt. His length was soaked in their mutual desire, aching for the moment they would finally become one. Making eye contact, she nods to him, silently communicating her readiness and eagerness to take the next step in their relationship.

Pushing forward, he held her hand tight, her eyes clenched from the slight pain she experienced. As he entered her, he let out a groan, resting his head in the crook of her neck from the sensations. His lips peppered kisses on her collarbone, giving her a moment to adjust to the new feeling. Whispering sweet nothings in her ear, he assured her of his love and devotion. His hands rubbed her body soothingly to relax her, resting on her hips.

She panted for air, her heart racing in her chest as he leaned back from her. With warm eyes looking down at her with a mixture of desire and tenderness, he whispered, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, feeling a wave of emotions wash over her at the intimacy they shared in that moment. Feeling the pain begin to subside, she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him down to kiss her with a newfound sense of urgency and passion, moving his hips against him. Moving his arms up, he rested on his elbows on either side of her head. Hips thrusting against her with ease at the growing intensity of their connection, he whispered, "I've got you."

She melted into his touch, feeling safe and desired in his embrace. The world faded away as they embraced, cherishing the connection they had found in each other's arms. Their room filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and the scent of their shared passion, creating a bubble of intimacy that enveloped them both. As they continued to explore each other's bodies, they both felt their end was coming. Their eyes locked together, focusing solely on one another.

With a final surge of emotion, they surrendered to the overwhelming wave of desire, their souls intertwining in a moment of pure bliss before they collapsed into each other's arms, breathless and content. The world outside ceased to exist as they lay entwined, savoring the fleeting ecstasy of their love. Nanami moved to lay beside his wife, laying a blanket over them, gently brushing her hair away from her face and whispering words of love and gratitude.

"I love you." He declared, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

"I love you too, Kento." She responded, her voice barely above a whisper.

The couple held each other close, cherishing the quiet moment of connection before they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

~_~_~

Kento felt pure happiness.

For years now, he has been married to the love of his life. Their time together strengthened their bond each day. No matter the poor condition of their house or the challenges they faced, their love remained unwavering.

With the cold months coming, Kento spent more time out in the fields. He could already feel the chill in his bones from the season changing. The brown leaves on the trees are beginning to fall from the branches. Gathering food to stock up on or sell. The cold, brisk air filled his lungs as he worked tirelessly, knowing that every moment spent away from his beloved was worth it for their future together. Nanami's heart swelled with gratitude for the life they had built, knowing that their love would always be the foundation of their happiness.

Raising a hand to his face to wipe his sweat, he gazed at his wife.

She sat on the porch, sewing a quilt, her hands moving skillfully as she hummed a familiar tune. Her bump was beginning to show in the life they had created together, a reminder of the love that bound them. Kento couldn't help but smile, grateful for her presence in his life and the warmth she brought to their home. As the sun began to set, he joined her on the porch, cherishing these simple moments of peace and contentment together.

Suddenly, a harsh feeling came into his chest. He felt as if he were being torn from the inside, waiting for it to erupt from him. Buckling over, he coughed into his hand, shakily looking at it. His wife immediately ran to his aid, rubbing his back in circles as she kneeled next to him to assist him. Brows furrowed in concern on her sun kissed face.

"Kento?" She called, her face paling as she looked at him. Blood dribbled down his chin, covering his hand.

~_~_~_~

A sickness furrowed its claws deep into him.

The village doctor allowed them both some time to consider; there were treatment possibilities, but they required money. Something either of them didn't have much of. The doctor's words lingered in his mind, weighing heavily on his chest. Kento knew that life would never be the same again.

Looking at his wife, he held her hand tight, regret flowing through him for making her go through this. For not being better for her. He knew that look in her eyes; she was thinking hard, thinking of ways to fix this. Kento felt a sense of guilt and responsibility weighing heavily on his shoulders as he realized the gravity of the situation.

"Love, we'll get through this together," he whispered, trying to reassure her. But deep down, he knew that their journey ahead would be filled with challenges and sacrifices.

Turning to him, she had that same smile—the same one he'd grown to adore the last few years. Years filled with absolute happiness.

"We will, Kento." She affirmed, leaning to rest her forehead against his.

~_~_~

The look of love never once changed in her eyes for him. Not once.

Even as she watched him struggle with the changes, he went from a strong man who could sow their entire field in less than a day to a man needing help being fed. Things like pity, regret, or resentment never crossed her mind.

A horrible cough wracked Kento's form, one that made her heart ache with worry. She held him closer, dabbing his face more with a damp cloth to ease the fever that had come on in the middle of the night.

"You should run off with the money we have. Stop wasting it on me." He chided her, still leaning on her as she cared for him. But she shook her head, determined to stay by his side no matter what. "Even with a child, I'm sure you'd find someone else. Someone worthy."

"I'm not going anywhere, Kento. We'll get through this together," she whispered, her voice filled with unwavering love and devotion. Kissing his forehead, she gently held him, caressing his damp hair until he fell asleep. His hand rested on her stomach, as if still trying to protect the life growing inside her.

The winter storm raged outside, and the two of them were bundled in their warm blankets, finding solace in each other's presence as they faced the uncertainty of the future together. The crackling fire in the fireplace provided a sense of comfort and warmth amidst the howling winds outside. Nanami's chest rose and fell with each calm breath. He looked at peace, despite the pain and uncertainty that surrounded them.

She vowed to find a way to help him, no matter the cost.

In the quiet of the night she slipped to her weave room, her loom in the middle of the room. With determination she got to work.

~_~_~

For several nights, she spent her time weaving delicate silk tapestries and silk panels she knew she would be able to sell at the market to support them through the difficult times ahead. The intricate designs and vibrant colors were a labor of love, a symbol of their unwavering bond and determination to overcome any obstacle together.

While being unable to do hard labor, she spent countless hours caring for her husband while also making the beautiful tapestries that would give her the money to buy the medicine.

The night before the market day, she stayed up late adding the final touches to her creations, knowing that their success was crucial for their survival. As the first light of dawn broke through the window, she felt a sense of hope and determination that they would make it through this challenging time together.

~_~_~

Spring is approaching now. The last month of winter began to thaw, bringing with it the promise of new beginnings and opportunities. His sickness weakened the strength he had. Each day, his wife cared for him with unwavering dedication, no matter how much he tried to push her away. Her bump is now bigger, and she can feel the baby kicking more frequently.

"It's pointless getting the medicine." He frowned, looking away from her as she bathed him. "It's pointless staying with me."

She simply stopped humming, continuing to wipe his chest, a frown on her face as she sat in front of him in the bathtub. Water surrounded the two of them in their small tub. The steam of the bath fogged the small room, enveloping the two in a sense of warmth and intimacy.

Despite his words, she couldn't bear the thought of leaving him alone in his time of need.

"My love, no matter what you say, no matter how foul you try to be, I'm staying." She said, "We both are."

Tears filled his eyes as he understood the extent of her love and dedication. Despite his protests, she remained by his side, a beacon of hope in his darkest days.

Another cough racked his form, and attentively, she helped rub his back as he coughed. Only once her hand dropped the towel to cup his face did he notice her fingers. They were wrapped in bandages, blood seeping through from the cuts.

"What happened to your hands?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

She smiled softly and explained, "Just a minor kitchen mishap, nothing serious to worry about."

The profound love and sacrifice she showed left him speechless. Gently, he lifted her hand to his face, pressing a kiss to the tips of each finger. Tears finally went down his cheeks; months of bottling them up were finally released in that moment of vulnerability. He realized then just how much she truly meant to him.

"I'll be better for you," he promised, tears streaming down his face. "I love you more than words can express."

She squeezed his hand gently, feeling the weight of his promise in her heart.

"You've done more than enough. I love you more than you'll ever know," she whispered, feeling grateful for his vulnerability and honesty.

He sobbed in her arms, pressing his face against her wet chest as sobs wracked his form. She held him close, whispering words of comfort and reassurance as he let out all his pent-up emotions in her embrace.

~_~_~

After making tapestries for hours, she had finally made enough to cover the costs for the stronger medication Kento needed.

With a breath of relief, she left the doctor's office, holding the vial of medicine close to her chest. She knew that the medicine was their last hope for his recovery, and she was willing to do whatever it took to ensure he got better. As she walked home, her heart was heavy with worry but also filled with determination to see him healthy again.

In her anxiety, she felt a harsh kick; her little one was quite active as of late. Her late nights working and taking care of Kento made her realize the importance of taking care of herself and her unborn child. She knew she needed to find a balance between caring for Kento and ensuring her own well-being during this challenging time.

~_~_~

Kento seemed to be getting better each day.

His health was slowly regaining strength, and now he was able to tend to the small weeds in the garden. The fresh air and sunlight seemed to invigorate him, giving hope that they would indeed overcome this challenge together. As she watched him work in the garden, she felt a sense of gratitude for every moment they had together.

Her own health, however, only got worse. Bags were under her eyes, and she had lost weight. A concern for the doctors, especially with her due date being later than most women. As the flowers began to bloom outside, she prayed for a miracle to keep him by her side a little while longer.

"Kento! Come take a break, my love." She called out, reaching for him on the porch.

Kento looked up from his task and smiled warmly at her, setting down his gardening tools before walking over to her.

"I'm almost done here, love. Let's sit together for a while," he said gently, wrapping his arms around her as they sat on the porch, enjoying the peaceful moment together.

Nuzzling into her neck, he whispered sweet nothings, reminding her of his unwavering love and support. The warmth of his embrace was the only medicine she needed to feel better in that moment.

"You should be sleeping." He reminded her, concern on his face as he looked over her.

Waving her hand dismissively, she leaned into his chest, feeling safe and loved in his arms.

"I'll sleep soon, I promise. But right now, I just want to be here with you," she murmured softly, closing her eyes and savoring the moment of peace and comfort they shared together.

Her restlessness seemed to melt away as she focused on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a soothing lullaby that calmed her racing thoughts. In that moment, she knew that with him by her side, she could face anything that came their way.

"I was thinking of names." He said it with a grin, looking down at his wife resting on his chest.

"Names ?" She lifted her head to look at him with curiosity, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. The anticipation of starting a family together filled their hearts with joy and excitement for the future.

"For a boy, Yoshiharu." He spoke, rubbing her hair gently. "For a girl, I was thinking of Miu."

She met his gaze, nodding in agreement at the two names.

"Those sound lovely."

~_~_~

Their child is born on a rainy spring day; she screams into the world, lungs full of life. Her chubby cheeks are pink, and her tiny fingers grasp at the air. The sound of her cry fills the room, bringing tears of happiness to their eyes as they welcome their daughter, Miu, into the world.

"She's perfect." Kento whispers, kissing his wife's forehead as they both marvel at the miracle before them.

Tears of joy fall down the couple's faces. Their hearts are full as they hold their precious daughter for the first time, feeling a love like no other. The room is filled with a sense of overwhelming love and gratitude as they begin their journey as a family of three.

~_~_~

Miu grows strong in the coming months, as does her father. The weather was not as warm anymore, leaves begin to fall with a chill to the air. The sickness is all but gone from him now.

All would be well, or so he thought.

Even after the birth, his wife's health did not seem to get better. His wife continues to weave in the late hours of the night, determined to keep her family safe and healthy. No matter how much he begged for her to get rest, she continued. She was scared of not having him in her life. Scared of losing him to the sickness. As the days passed, her exhaustion became more apparent, but her determination never wavered. The love she had for her family was evident in every sacrifice she made for their well-being. Fingers were raw from the endless threading and weaving.

Having awoken in the middle of the night, Kento frowned. He had reached over to his wife's side but only felt the cold sheets. Groggily, he sat up, rubbing his eyes as he looked around the room. It was dark, save for the moonlight streaming in from his window.

His daughter slept in her cradle peacefully. He smiled at the sight. She looked like a carbon copy of his wife, but she had his eye shape, skin tone, and mannerisms. The girl never cried for much and slept through most of the night, something they were beyond grateful for.

Carefully, Kento steps out of the room, walking down the hall to find his wife.

The only things heard were crickets outside and the wooden loom being moved. As he approached the spare bedroom, he had a gut feeling something was wrong. His hand shook as it hovered over the screen handles. Ignoring it, he carefully slid open the door, seeing a shocking sight.

There sat his wife with her robes pulled down, and her arms were wings now. White, beautiful feathers were scattered around her, blood seeping from her arms and back. Feathers gathered into a basket in front of her, the loom glimmering with silk. Threads. She had been making the tapestries and silk panels from her own feathers all this time.

His beloved wife was an enchanted being, able to switch between human and avian forms. Shocked and heartbroken, he realized the sacrifices she had made to be with him. Tears welled up in his eyes as he kneeled infront of her.

With tears in her eyes, she covered her body from him, ashamed he had found out. Her transformation was a secret she had kept hidden out of fear of rejection. Seeing the feathers closer, he recognized them; it was the crane's feather, the very same one he saved years ago.

"Look away!" She cried out, crawling away from him, not looking him in the eyes. Bloody hands clasped around her robes.

He only looked at her with love, hands raised, just like when they first met.

Kneeling down on the ground to be less intimidating, he gently reached out to touch her hand, a silent gesture of understanding and acceptance. She hesitated for a moment before finally meeting his gaze, seeing only compassion and support reflected back at her.

"It's just me, love." Kento reached out to her, gently touching her shoulder, trying to reassure her. She flinched from him and looked at him fearfully, her chest heaving with each panicked breath.

"Please, don't," she whispered, tears running down her face, her body shaking. Memories flooded her mind of the pain she’s endured in the past from humans. Pain and abuse from them discovering what she is.

Tearing herself from his gaze, she turned around, transforming into her crane form, and flew out the open window. He ran after her, stopping at the window where he watched her soar into the night sky, yelling her name out.

As she disappeared into the darkness, he whispered a silent prayer for her safety and well-being. Tears went down his face, knowing her secret didn't change the love he felt for her. If anything, it only deepened his admiration for her strength and beauty. Months of her sacrificing her well being helped save him.

Sobbing, he collapsed onto the floor, thinking he had lost her forever.

~_~_~

Months disappear in the blink of an eye.

A time spent in loneliness and hardship. He had to navigate fatherhood without his wife, but his heart never found anger for her. She was scared; he couldn't blame her for her reaction. He knew she was struggling with her own demons, and he hoped she would find peace one day. Despite the challenges, he remained committed to being the best father he could be for their child.

He just wanted her back.

Miu is nearly one, and he still finds himself looking out the windows every night, hoping to catch a glimpse of her flying by. The memory of her departure still lingers in his heart, a bittersweet reminder of the love they shared.

Sitting by the river with his daughter, he lets out a sigh, looking up at the sky with a forlorn look. He felt a gaping hole in his heart, one that would never be filled. With the sun beginning to set, he picks up Miu. The girl was sweet, her laughter filling the air as they walked back home together. She looked closer to her mother, her features near identical. The ache in his heart slowly begins to heal, knowing that she will always be a part of him, no matter where she may be.

Just as he almost makes it up the hill, a feather falls down before him. Curiously, he leans down and picks it up, inhaling a sharp breath once he recognizes the feather in his hand. Without a second of hesitation, he begins to run to his home, his daughter laughing gleefully at the change of pace.

He bursts through the door, finding a familiar figure in a white kimono waiting by the window, their backs turned from him. At his entrance, the figure turns his way, a smile on their lips—the same one he loves and misses dearly. The sun casted a soft heavenly glow behind them, making him think it was his imagination.

Tears well up in his eyes as he rushes forward to embrace them. Miu looked at them curiously as they cupped their father’s face. Their hands carefully caressed his face as if he was glass, tears now falling down his face in relief.

"Hello Kento."

Hope you enjoyed!! I was gonna go with the OG sad ending but my heart couldn't

Lol very vanilla and lovey dovey. Crane lady got saved by a handsome farmer, spent months with him under his care (learning everything about him), and went ‘I shall bear your children and love you forever’ and I mean, that’s fair

#nanami kento x reader #jjk x reader #reader insert #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk nanami #nanami smut #nanami x reader #jjk #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #Love Through The Ages

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