Tumgik
#i just wish i could simply make more time exist you know??
jgracie · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
HEY BLONDIE — LEO + DAUGHTER OF POSEIDON
masterlist | rules
♡ dedicated to covey @hopelesslyromanticshark the blueprint for the poseidon girlie x leo trope 😇 lovey > caleo 4eva (even the ship name is cuter!)
❝ daughter of poseidon x leo valdez!!!!! ❞ — anon
in which leo dates a daughter of poseidon
pairing leo valdez x poseidon!reader
warnings percys a bit of an ass in this lowk sorry guys (he didn't mean it i promise!!!), they have tech, andddd i lowk hate this but i haven’t posted in three days so 🙁 maybe i’ll rewrite it someday!!
on the radio . . . hey blondie (dominic fike)
an i’ve been DYING for someone to request this combo i love it sm …. also OGs remember when my bio was hey blondie 🫡 reader isn’t blonde dw (i’m not even blonde myself) !! also reader is a year younger than percy (making her the same age as leo)
Leo didn’t know Percy had a sister. Maybe he was living under a rock (he was - Leo spent the majority of his days at Bunker 9), but he just hadn’t considered the possibility of it, with Percy being a child of the big three and all
If Leo had known of your existence sooner, he would’ve burnt down Bunker 9 himself and spent the rest of his days glued to your side. He had met many people, but none as perfect and charming as you
You see, the boy was simply going to pass by Cabin 3 to show Percy this new gadget he’d made for him and see if he wanted to hang out sometime, since Leo hadn’t seen Percy in a while, when he met you - Y/N, Percy’s younger half-sister
“Hello, may I help you?” You asked, opening the front door of your cabin and being met with a boy with curly brown hair and big brown eyes. Immediately, you felt the heat radiating off of him increase and all of a sudden his brown curls were on fire
As a child of Poseidon, naturally, you’ve never been fond of fire, so this freaked you out. Knowing the water fountain was right behind you, you controlled the water with your hands and shot it at Leo, putting out the fire and drenching him in the process
Leo didn’t care, though. You could drown him for Hephaestus’ sake and he’d still come crawling back - okay, maybe that was a little much. He took in your worried expression and a wave of guilt washed over him as he realised how afraid you were
“I’m sorry, I have a hard time controlling my fire powers sometimes… Where’s Percy?” He asked, not even bothering to question your Godly heritage. You were very clearly a daughter of Poseidon
After that, things calmed down between you two. You let him in and although you were wary of Leo (and sat as far away from him as possible without being labelled as rude), patiently listened as he explained why he was looking for your brother
He then showed you the gadget he made and when Leo saw the way your eyes lit up at its mechanisms, he knew his life would no longer be complete if you weren’t in it
You gushed over the thing, pressing the buttons over and over again (which Leo didn’t have the heart to tell you would wear them down) and showering him in compliments - something that has never happened to Leo before
A grin made its way onto his lips. Sure, people have praised his creations before, but none of them did it the way you did, nearly bursting with excitement as you tried to handle it with utmost care
Part of Leo wished Percy would never come back to cabin 3 ever again, but speak (in this case, think) of the devil and he shall appear. That was his unfortunate cue to leave
He quickly showed Percy how to handle the device and was about to leave when you stopped him. Leo almost couldn’t believe his ears and almost leaped for joy when he heard you ask if you could pass by his cabin sometime, since you really wanted to see more of his stuff
That was the beginning of the most iconic friendship in Camp Half-Blood history
You quickly discovered you had a lot in common and so, you became attached at the hip. It was so bad that whenever someone was asked where one of you were, they’d give the location of the other since they knew there was an incredibly high possibility of you being together
Leo taught you how to use a screwdriver and weld and I can’t think of a third thing people who make machines do but you get the gist! And in return, you taught him how to swim
His ability to swim (or lack thereof) was something which was brought up your very first time hanging out together at bunker nine. After many attempts, you finally successfully hammered a nail into a piece of metal (fyi I’m a daughter of Demeter I know absolutely nothing about this subject) and in your enthusiastic state insisted you go to the beach together
At your suggestion, Leo got awfully quiet and began shyly playing with a stray piece of metal. Your eyebrows furrowed, confused for a second about the shift in his behaviour, when it finally clicked
“Oh my Gods, Leo, do you not know how to swim?” You asked, hesitant - you didn’t want to embarrass the poor guy. He looked up at you and nodded, pouting at the way your lips wobbled as you tried not to giggle. You weren’t laughing at him, of course, you just thought it was really cute
Grabbing him by the arm, you began to drag him to your cabin and said, “c’mon, I’ll teach you! It’ll be like me repaying you for teaching me how to do all the fancy things you do with metal!”
You guys started going to the beach more often after that. At first, you were just teaching Leo how to be in a body of water and not drown, but once he got the hang of it you started having swimming competitions and introducing him to all your fish friends!
They’re always telling you to hurry up and confess because it's so obvious that you like Leo and you keeping it to yourself isn’t doing you any favours but you can’t. Why? Because you don’t think Leo likes you back
Meanwhile Leo’s sitting on the sand next to you admiring the way you seem to gain life by being near a body of water, having to push his fire powers down whenever you’d pull him closer to you, the only thing filling the space between you being the water of the ocean
You are quite literally Mr and Mrs Oblivious. Everyone can tell you like each other but yourselves
It’s actually really funny because you run in the same circles so you tend to complain to the same people about how the other can’t tell you like them and they’re just sitting there trying SO hard not to facepalm
Most of the time you two go to Annabeth, simply because she’s the only one you believe can keep a secret as big as your crushes. Unfortunately for you she and Percy come as a packaged duo, which means Percy’s aware
She didn’t mean to tell him but one time after a heated discussion with you where you analysed Leo’s every move it was still fresh on her mind and she let it slip
Ever since then, Percy’s been eyeing Leo, who’s definitely noticed the behaviour switch. It’s not like Percy had anything against you dating - you were only a year younger than him, after all, and you never tried to stop him and Annabeth from dating - but he couldn’t help but feel a little protective
An extra year of life still made you his baby sister! He’d insist to Annabeth that it doesn’t bother him and Leo is a good guy and his friend so he’s happy that the two of you reciprocate each other’s feelings then turn and give the poor boy a glare so terrifying it’d make a hellhound cower in fear
While all of this is happening, Leo’s freaking out. He’s absolutely losing his mind because all of a sudden Percy no longer likes him which means he’s probably noticed he likes you and disapproves of your potential relationship
All these thoughts cause him to spiral and eventually distance himself from you. It was just occasionally rejecting plans but then it turned into him somehow always being busy, and it broke your heart
Percy, being the kind and loving brother he is, asked you what was wrong on one of those days and you had to fight the urge to burst into tears as you told him about how you thought you did something to hurt Leo
You see, Leo was your first real friend at camp. Sure, you had other friends, but they were all just casual acquaintances you’d talk to whenever you happened to see them. Leo was your first best friend, which meant a lot
In that moment, Percy knew what he had to do
“Hey, why’re you avoiding Y/N?” Percy asked, barging into bunker nine, his arms crossed as he stared down Leo, who was busy making something (as usual)
Leo, who hadn’t been fully listening, looked up to find none other than Percy Jackson standing in front of him, “what?” He asked, his eyes widening
“I said, why are you avoiding my sister?” He repeated, the scowl on his face deepening. Percy was usually a pretty nice guy, but that could change really quickly if anyone ever even thinks of hurting his loved ones (loyalty is his fatal flaw after all)
Putting his tools down, Leo stood up, suddenly defensive. Why was Percy putting the blame on him? He was the reason Leo decided to talk to you less in the first place. Doing that to you really hurt Leo, but he wasn’t going to let himself get close to you just to end up heartbroken and without two friends in the end
“Do you hate her all of a sudden, is that it? Because if that’s the case, you should at least be kind enough to voice those thoughts so she can find new friends–”
“Dude, I love Y/N. Who put that in your head?” Leo interrupted, “I’m avoiding Y/N because I’ve seen the way you look at me, Percy. I get it, you’re not happy that I like her, and I don’t want to bother you or put a strain in your relationship, so I’ve distanced myself.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He avoided you because he loved you, because he didn’t want there to be any trouble between you and your brother because of him, and yet somehow here he was being accused of hating you?
You’re the first person Leo truly felt love for ever since his own mother. How could he hate you
“Tell her,” Percy said. He felt immensely guilty as the realisation that he was the reason why you’d almost lost your crush and best friend hit him. He never meant for it to go this far, and honestly, the glances weren’t even purposeful - he just couldn’t help it
“She likes you too, literally everyone at camp knows it, you’ll be fine. And Leo, I’m really sorry I made you feel that way. I didn’t mean to, honestly, I just really care about Y/N and don’t want her to get hurt. But I know you won’t hurt her, so… I approve.”
When I say Leo ran so fast to your cabin that he left a whole trail of fire behind him, I’m not exaggerating. He passed by Flowers and Vines (Demeter + Dionysus kid flower shop/fruits market iykyk) and set their crops on fire, quickly making himself their mortal enemy
He couldn’t care less though. You liked him back! In a few moments, he’d confess and you’d agree to date him and you’d finally be his
And confess he did <3 you were a little mad at Percy at first for unintentionally separating the two of you but after three days’ worth of grovelling you were fine
You couldn’t be too mad, after all, since you now had your fireboy
(The crowd cheers!!!! After 5 pages of backstory you get actual dating hcs)
Okay so I just want to start by saying that Leo is literally like a raven or a cat or whatever animal it is. He’s constantly finding the randomest trinkets and just giving them you for no reason
He goes to the beach a lot on his own whenever he misses you because the salty air smells just like the crook of your neck and often comes back with a bunch of seashells, randomly shaped rocks and one time an actually alive sand dollar
You spent so long teaching him how to spot one that’s alive and one that’s dead so when he saw a sand dollar he got really excited at the idea of you being proud of him remembering the difference that he’d forgotten it
His favourite things are the seashells though. Why? Well, because he can turn them into cute jewellery for you, duh!
It started off as a silly little idea. He found a cute seashell and thought ‘what if I strung a piece of thread through this and made it a necklace for my beautiful hot gorgeous pretty siren mermaid cutie pie Y/N?’
He ended up doing it and you loved it so much he decided he’d make you a whole collection of seashell jewellery
The second time around, he made an actual chain for the necklace because you’re deserving of more than some lousy thread!!!
Then he began making bracelets and rings and earrings and all sorts of other things for you. Somehow, despite making so many of them, Leo managed to make them all unique in their own way. Your favourite, however, was the seashell locket he made you for one of your anniversaries
Inside of the locket is a picture you took together on the beach. It was from back when you were just friends, but you looked so gorgeous in it Leo couldn’t help but choose it for the necklace
Also, you guys are LITERALLY fireboy and watergirl
You’d had an epiphany one day whilst lying your head on his chest and the gasp you let out had Leo worried you were dying for a second
When you told him this, Leo was confused. Being in the foster care system at a young age then sent to wilderness school then doing demigod things left very little room for him to discover modern things other people his age liked
You immediately took him to the little computer you shared with Percy and opened up fireboy and watergirl (the OG game of course, not one of the newer editions) and taught him how to play
Honestly, Leo’s really bad at it. Like at first you thought he just needed to get the hang of it but then you reached the one year anniversary of when you first showed him FB & WG and he was STILL awful at it (also yes you know what day that is. You and Leo have anniversaries for everything)
“Leo!” You exclaimed, unable to watch as the try again prompt popped up on the screen. After about 50 times doing this level (which you had completed on your own before just fine), you’d finally gotten to the last hurdle when, of course, fireboy had to fall into the green slime
Leo pouted, once again prepared to fight his case, “Fireboy’s an idiot! It’s not my fault you get to control the smarter one out of the two!”
“Nuh, uh! Fireboy’s so much easier to control! He has the arrows, watergirl has WASD, which is way harder!”
“Fine, you control him, since he’s so easy to use!”
“But I’m Watergirl! I can’t have you killing me too!”
You’d have this conversation almost every single time you played the game. It got so bad one time Percy had to block the fireboy and watergirl website from the computer
Which was stupid because Leo’s literally a son of Hephaestus so all he had to do was touch the computer and it quickly became unbanned!
Also I think all children of Poseidon have an obscene amount of fish/sea animal merch. Specifically plushies
Leo stayed the night at your cabin once thinking ‘oh my Gods I’m gonna be sleeping with Y/N for the first time WTF WTF WTF!!!’ only to end up sleeping with Chelsea the starfish instead
He teased you a little at first but you’d refused to talk to him after that so he accepted them into the L/N-Valdez family (despite them hogging the bed 😒)
Now, he also defends the plushies like his life depends on it. If someone even DARES to utter a word against Haley the seahorse its ON SIGHT fr
He also keeps a mental note of all the names of your plushies to see if he can figure out a theme with the kinds of names you like for when you name your future baby but that’s a story for another day!
174 notes · View notes
comradekatara · 2 days
Note
I know ppl are yapping at you abt Dungeon Meshi so sorry but I’m joining in. Who in the Gaang (or Gaang-adjacent) do you think would enjoy the dungeon most and least? Sokka would be having a grand time, eating cool food and rescuing sisters and learning about biology and doing puzzles. I can imagine Aang on the other hand having a very bad time; even the plants are animalistic so he would feel weird about eating them. He would appreciate Senshi’s care for the ecosystem though.
idk why ppl keep saying that sokka would be laios.... like laios does say that he wishes he could take falin's place and clearly means it, but he also has the mental fortitude to step back and look at the situation more rationally when he needs to. he clearly loves falin a lot, but he's also able to pace himself and acknowledges not to push himself beyond his own limits, so that he can make grand sacrifices when the time calls for it (and even then, he pretty much knew that losing his leg wasn't gonna be permanent). like, my point is, if katara got fucking eaten by a dragon, sokka would not even bother going back up to the surface to the regroup. he would not be able to approach the situation rationally whatsoever. laios wants to take falin's place because he doesn't want to see her in pain (and also because i'm sure there's a part of him that just wishes that he could be a really cool monster too, lol), but sokka would want to take her place because he fundamentally believes that his role in life is to sacrifice himself for her?? and he would feel like he had failed in some grand, existential way if she sacrificed herself for him (but also, falin is not katara, and so katara wouldn't make those same sacrifices either). if sokka was in laios's shoes, he would be acting far more like toshiro, and we know this because "the boiling rock" exists. sokka is someone who is easily motivated by guilt, and feels guilty about basically everything. there's no way he would be enjoying his time in the dungeon if he felt that he had failed the one person he valued most in the world. he barely enjoys doing anything as it is.
that said, if he was simply in the dungeon for work and katara was there with him or safely on the surface or otherwise healthy and intact, yeah he'd probably like the hunting and puzzle solving and the learning about ecosystems. and since magic is something that can be taught, i'm sure he'd also be fascinated by the science behind it and learn as much magic as he can. aang would be fine food-wise because he'd simply pack enough food in advance, which is what most people do anyway. katara would love it because she loves going on any sort of quest-like adventure, and she loves getting to be the hero. she and aang are the resident healers, naturally. toph enjoys it because she likes hanging out with her friends and getting into weird little situations. suki is slashing up monsters with her katana but mainly she's just vibing. zuko is having a bad time unless he has a fixed goal, just like, in general, so he's only going in the dungeon (or anywhere) if he has a very specific reason. people see azula, mai, and ty lee in the dungeon and they're like "that party is way too small they won't last a day" and then they work as such a perfect and efficient team that everyone is just like "okay. i stand corrected." but anyway. if anyone is falin, it's yue.
23 notes · View notes
immawritethat · 1 month
Text
Oh I am in such a bad mood today and likely will continue to be in a bad mood for a few days good vibes good vibes
0 notes
foone · 1 year
Text
Look if there's one thing, just one thing, that I wish everyone understood about archiving, it's this:
We can always decide later that we don't need something we archived.
Like, if we archive a website that's full of THE WORST STUFF, like it turns out it's borderline illegal bot-made spam art, we can delete it. Gone.
We can also chose not to curate. You can make a list of the 100 Best Fanfic and just quietly not link to or mention the 20,000 RPFs of bigoted youtubers eating each other. No problem!
We can also make things not publicly available. This happens surprisingly often: like, sometimes there'll be a YouTube channel of alt-right bigotry that gets taken down by YouTube, but someone gives a copy to the internet archive, and they don't make it publicly available. Because it might be useful for researchers, and eventually historians, it's kept. But putting it online for everyone to see? That's just be propaganda for their bigotry. So it's hidden, for now. You can ask to see it, but you need a reason.
And we can say all these things, we can chose to delete it later, we can not curate it, we can hide it from public view... But we only have these options BECAUSE we archived it.
If we didn't archive it, we have no options. It is gone. I'm focusing on the negative here, but think about the positive side:
What if it turns out something we thought was junk turns out to be amazing new art?
What if something we thought of as pointless and not worth curating turns out to be influential?
What if something turns out to be of vital historical importance, the key that is used to solve a great mystery, the Rosetta stone for an era?
All of those things are great... If we archived it when we could.
Because this is an asymmetric problem:
If we archived it and it turns out it's not useful, we can delete.
If we didn't archive it and it turns out it is useful, OOPS!
You can't unlose something that's been lost. It's gone. This is a one way trip, it's already fallen off the cliff. Your only hope is that you're wrong about it being lost, and there is actually still a copy somewhere. If it's truly lost, your only option is to build a time machine.
And this has happened! There are things lost, so many of them that we know of, and many more we don't know of. There are BOOKS OF THE BIBLE referenced in the canon that simply do not exist anymore. Like, Paul says to go read his letter to the Laodiceans, and what did that letter say? We don't know. It's gone.
The most celebrated playwright in the English tradition has plays that are just gone. You want to perform or watch Love's Labours Won? TOO FUCKING BAD.
Tumblr media
Want to watch Lon Cheyney's London After Midnight, a mystery-horror silent film from 1927? TOO BAD. The MGM vault burnt down in 1965 and the last known copy went up in smoke.
If something still exists, if it still is kept somewhere, there is always an opportunity to decide if it's worthy of being remembered. It can still be recognized for its merits, for its impact, for its importance, or just what it says about the time and culture and people who made it, and what they believed and thought and did. It can still be a useful part of history, even if we decide it's a horrible thing, a bigoted mess, a terrible piece of art. We have the opportunity to do all that.
If it's lost... We are out of options. All we can do is research it from how it affected other things. There's a lot of great books and plays and films and shows that we only know of because other contemporary sources talked about them so much. We're trying to figure out what it was and what it did, from tracing the shadow it cast on the rest of culture.
This is why archivists get anxious whenever people say "this thing is bad and should not be preserved". Because, yeah, maybe they're right. Maybe we'll look back and decide "yeah, that is worthless and we shouldn't waste the hard drive or warehouse space on it".
But if they're wrong, and we listen to them, and don't archive... We don't get a second chance at this. And archivists have been bitten too many times by talk of "we don't need copies, the original studio has the masters!" (it burnt down), or "this isn't worth preserving, it's just some damn silly fad" (the fad turned out to be the first steps of a cultural revolution), or "this media is degenerate/illegal/immoral" (it turns out those saying that were bigots and history doesn't agree with their assessment).
So we archive what we can. We can always decide later if it doesn't need preserving. And being a responsible archivist often means preserving things but not making them publicly available, or being selective in what you archive (I back up a lot of old computer hard drives. Often they have personal photos and emails and banking information! That doesn't get saved).
But it's not really a good idea to be making quality or moral judgements of what you archive. Because maybe you're right, maybe a decade or two later you'll decide this didn't need to be saved. And you'll have the freedom to make that choice. But if you didn't archive it, and decide a decade later you were wrong... It's just gone now. You failed.
Because at the end of the day I'd rather look at an archive and see it includes 10,000 things I think are worthless trash, than look at an archive of on the "best things" and know that there are some things that simply cannot be included. Maybe they were better, but can't be considered as one of the best... Because they're just gone. No one has read them, no one has been able to read them.
We have a long history of losing things. The least we can do going forward is to try and avoid losing more. And leave it up to history to decide if what we saved was worth it.
My dream is for a future where critics can look at stuff made in the present and go "all of this was shit. Useless, badly made, bigoted, horrible. Don't waste your time on it!"
Because that's infinitely better than the future where all they can do is go "we don't know of this was any good... It was probably important? We just don't know. It's gone. And it's never coming back"
10K notes · View notes
mimicmimikyuwrites · 2 months
Text
The Sin of Lust - Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader SMUT
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: You confide in Lucifer about just how unsatisfied your husband, Adam, is leaving you. Lucifer decides to show you a whole new, much more pleasurable side of things, a side that leaves you wanting even more of it.
Contents/Possible Warnings: Cheating (Reader is cheating on Adam w/ Lucifer), Side Adam x Reader, Religious themes, Religious guilt/shame, Cunnilingus, Masturbation, Fingering, P in V sex, cream pie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, SMUT, MDNI, this shit is depraved in a good way 😊
Tumblr media
Your favorite spot in the whole of Eden was a small clearing no different from the rest of the garden. It was hidden away just enough that your husband, Adam, didn't know of its existence; making it your little getaway spot. You'd come here often, especially on days like today; days where Adam was more annoying than usual.
It was your duty and sole reason for creation to serve him, and you were trying your best to show thanks to your Lord by fulfilling your purpose, but it was growing harder and harder every day. Adam wasn't a bad person at his core, but he was insufferable in more ways than one. He was arrogant, felt he was better than you simply because he had a dick, and constantly treated you like you were useless unless it came to sex.
Sex with your husband was okay, and that was all it was, just okay. It wasn't horrible, sometimes it felt nice, but Adam always left you unsatisfied; longing for something more that you couldn't identify. That's how it was last night, and that's how you were sure it'd be again today. That's why you retreated to where you were now.
You sat on the soft grass, basking in the comfortable silence that came with the lack of your husband's presence. All days were nice in Eden, but today was even more so; with the sun bathing you in the perfect amount of warmth and the melodic chirping of birds filling the air. You wished it could stay like this forever, but you knew all good things must eventually meet their end.
Sooner than later you'd have to return Adam, knowing that if you were gone too long he'd come looking for you. You were dreading it, to say the least. Maybe you could pretend to be sick tonight? Or maybe you could go to sleep early? Or maybe you—
"Adam's looking for you, y'know."
You turned your head toward the voice, spotting God's most beautiful angel himself: Lucifer. You had hoped you would see him. The Lord's angels weren't supposed to mingle with humans in the way Lucifer had always mingled with you; your meetings had always been a secret that you two kept under lock and key, both of you not wanting to know the outcome of his fellow angels, or your husband, catching you two.
"Lucifer!" You exclaimed happily, looking up at him as he hovered in the air, gorgeous ivory white wings holding him up. You opened your arms, and he came down, warmly embracing you. He tilted your chin up before pressing a loving kiss to your lips; it felt like it had been years since you last kissed him, even though it had merely been days.
"I missed you." He said, affectionately tucking back a stray lock of your hair. "Heaven's not the paradise it's supposed to be without you to be there with me." You smiled at his comment before the words he said earlier finally sunk in.
"Adam's looking for me? Fuck, I've been away too long." This was bad, really bad. You had never been gone long enough for Adam to go searching for you. He was going to ask questions, and you knew you couldn't answer them, at least not honestly.
"Don't worry, I 'helpfully' suggested he go in the opposite direction," Lucifer reassured you with an almost mischievous grin. Relief filled you, he had bought you more than enough time. "Thank you, Luci." You smiled, sitting back down on the grass, patting the spot next to you. Lucifer joined you, holding your hand in his after he had sat.
"I know you like your time away from Adam, but you've been away from him longer than usual. Is something bothering you? Did he do something...?" Lucifer questioned, voice soft and laced with concern. You nervously bit your lip, unsure of how to approach the topic without being too overwhelmingly blunt.
"I...." You began, pausing to take a deep breath, almost embarrassed by what you were going to say next. "I don't want to have sex with him, not today. Or ever." You admitted, shame filling you.
You were meant to fulfill your Husband's desires, it was why you were created. You already felt guilty about avoiding him today, along with your boundary-pushing relationship with Lucifer, so to finally verbalize how you had been feeling felt like you had just sinned in the worst way imaginable. You were failing to fulfill your sole reason for living.
"He leaves me unsatisfied, yearning for something more. I know it's selfish of me, I know it's downright sinful, but I wish that I could feel the same amount of pleasure Adam feels for just once in my life, even if its not needed for me to get pregnant." You refused to meet Lucifer's gaze. The angel had always been a good-intentioned rule-breaker, but at the end of the day, he was still an angel. One of the beings meant to carry out your creator's will, and your creator willed that you be submissive to your husband and birth his children.
Lucifer must be disgusted.
The last thing you expected was for him to begin pressing gentle kisses to your neck and collarbone, something you weren't entirely unfamiliar with, just not from him. It was the same thing Adam did to signal he wanted you, albeit Adam's kisses were much more hurried and sloppier; nowhere near as delightful as Lucifer's.
"L-Lucifer..." You breathed out, letting him lay you down and begin kissing lower and lower, all the way until his head was at your thighs. He placed his hands on them, but before he did anything, he looked up at you. "May I?" He asked, catching you off guard.
"W–What?" You stuttered in response. Your only other experience was with Adam, and while he knew that 'no' meant 'no', he was certainly more commanding than Lucifer was being right now.
"I need to know that you want this," Lucifer explained, lightly kissing the outside of your thigh. "I'm not him. You don't need to feel pressured into anything. I want you to be the one who feels good for once, yeah?"
You hesitated. Kissing Lucifer was one thing, but this was another; there'd be no going back from this. It felt wrong, it was wrong, but at the same time your desire for the man who made you feel things your husband never could was quickly overtaking you. You didn't just want this, you craved it. You needed it.
"Show me, Lucifer," You finally said, giving in, spreading your legs for him. "Show me what I've been missing out on." Lucifer placed a kiss on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your wet sex, before diving in like an animal starved. The feeling of his tongue licking at your cunt ignited a newfound ecstasy within you, your legs beginning to quiver not too long into it.
Your hands gripped at the grass beneath you, only got him to grab them, leading them to his hair. You grabbed at it instictively, pulling at the locks, eliciting a low moan from him; the vibrations sending a wave of pleasure coursing through you.
"Lucifer!" You cried out, feeling him sucking on your clit. You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle the lewd noises escaping you; as if it would lessen the sin of the act you were committing. His mouth left your needy pussy, his fingers replacing it soon after.
"No no no," He cooed, using his free hand to uncover your mouth. "Let me hear those sweet sounds you're making. Let me know how good you feel." You threw your head back with a pleasured whine as he curled his fingers inside of you, hitting a spot deep within you that had you seeing stars.
"Fuck—Your mouth, use your mouth—" You gasped, pulling his head back down, guiding him to where you needed him most by tugging at his hair. His fingers continued to fuck into you while his tongue lapped at whatever it could, the angel becoming drunk on your taste. His hand left your cunt, joining his other hand in locking your thighs in place as your legs trembled from the sensation of him going down on you.
"Close—So fucking close! Don't stop!" You pleaded. The impending feeling of orgasm was something you had felt before, but never before had you reached its climax; at least not until now. With one more 'come hither' motion of your lover's fingers, you were cumming for the first time in your life, your toes curling and a primal noise leaving you. He helped you ride out the waves of your orgasm, licking at your drenched sex, drinking up the juices of your climax until you couldn't take anymore, pushing his head away in a desperate attempt to escape the growing overstimulation.
Lucifer pulled away, eyes half-lidded and filled with mixed satisfaction and lust, your slick covering the corners of his mouth and fingers. He made a show of licking it off, moaning at the taste as it reached his tongue.
You let a content sigh, coming down from the absolute ecstasy you had experienced just moments prior. The feeling of contentment didn't last for long as you saw the bulge in Lucifer's pants; a sight that reignited the desires you had started with. To say he had done a good job would've been an understatement, but after finally witnessing just how amazing sex could feel, you knew you needed more.
You crawled into his lap, straddling him as you kissed, tasting yourself on his lips. You grinded down on him, and he separated from the kiss to let out a small groan. You continued your movements, feeling his cock growing harder through the fabric of his pants.
"Wait," He told you, placing his hands on your forearms in a signal for you to stop. You halted your actions, eyes widened in worry, and a blush creeping onto your face; scared you may have done something wrong. Did he not want you...?
"Hey, relax," He soothed, rubbing your arms comfortingly, taking notice of how you tensed up. "Do you want this? You're not obligated to return the favor or anything like that." You nodded in response. It was true, you wanted him more than anything. "I need you, need you so much." You rubbed down against him once more. "I need you inside of me, I need you to fuck me."
He smirked at your words, he had waited far too long to hear you say that. How many nights had he spent fucking into his hand, pretending it was your tight pussy, a hand clamped over his mouth so he wouldn't be caught by his fellow angels? To hear those words, so lewd and sinful, spill out of those perfect lips of yours sounded like music to his ears.
"I'm here to fulfill every single desire you have, honey." He purred, moving your hands down to the waistband of his pants. You pulled them down swiftly, his cock springing out. God, it was a sight to behold. You bit your lip, already imagining it inside of you; the leaky tip parting your folds, teasing you before finally thrusting in, the thickness of it stretching you out, and the length reaching that same sweet spot his fingers had touched earlier. It was everything you had ever wanted.
Your hands rested on his shoulders as he lined the tip up with your dripping cunt, giving you the honor of actually putting it in. You sunk down, sliding it in with ease. You moaned at the way he stretched you out, just as you imagined he would. His hands found your hips as you began to bounce on his cock, moans leaving you both.
You used him like you would a toy, something he had no problem with. You were lost in your own lust, focused purely on your pleasure; just the way Lucifer wanted it. There were no expectations placed on you except to put yourself first, to feel good for once. Lucifer wanted you to use him, and so you did.
"Fuck yes!" You cried, increasing your pace, the sound of skin on skin filling the air. Lucifer cursed, holding onto your hips hard enough to bruise. He moved one to your clit, rubbing at it, finding enjoyment in the way you threw your head back in ectasy at the combined sensations.
Your orgasm was sudden and caught you by surprise, your body trembling as it coursed through you. Your climax triggered his, and he spilled into you, warm cum filling you deep.
You pulled him in, lips finding his, pouring all of your love and passion for him into the kiss. You continued to kiss him sweetly as both of your orgasms subsided, enjoying the feeling of him still buried inside of you. That itch for more still resonated deep inside of you, and you were determined to satisfy it, even if it meant giving in to more and more of your sins.
Lucifer laid you down, lips never leaving yours as he began to move again; the same lustful urges having overtaken him as well. A second round turned into a third, and so on. You continued until you couldn't anymore, exhaustion being only what remained, and the day turning to night. All good things must come to an end, and eventually you bid Lucifer farewell.
Although you ended up bathing away the physical proof, your sin still remained as you returned to your husband.
"Where the FUCK have you been!?" Adam shouted upon seeing you, and you only ignored him, moving past the man and towards where you slept. Lucifer had awoken something within you, something equal parts liberating and devious. He had shown you a new world of possibilities, and you were more than ready to continue indulging in them.
The sins you had committed during your day were just the first of many, and you couldn't have been happier.
1K notes · View notes
kathaynesart · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
It is that time of year again, though this one is a little more special, I suppose. Wish I could do more, but I'm super busy with the Replica Holiday Special and a few other projects! A lot of people really liked my TED Talk last year about aging, so I guess I could give an update on that for those interested!
The big 4-0. It feels strange, being here and not feeling like I should be. I was always a Toys R Us kid / Lost Boys brat who never wanted to grow up and did everything possible to make it so! Still do I suppose, haha. The older I get, the quicker time seems to fly. It literally feels like my 39th was a month or so ago. But I also feel like I'm able to retain and understand so much more.
This past year has been intense. I dealt with the loss of a dear friend even younger than myself and went through a major cancer scare that really put my life into perspective. Through it all, being a part of this community has been a bedrock and something to focus my mind on as I grappled with these daunting aspects of my life. To be creative again has brought so much new energy into my life and being surrounded by so many other wonderful, supportive creatives and followers has been the greatest blessing.
Each of you who have sent me art, or words of encouragement, or questions have only added to this wonderful experience. And while I cannot answer them all due to time and shear mass, I still read each and every one of them, and I thank you. Truly.
There is so SO much I still want to do in this life and for this community, and while it's not something I'm really making any sort of money from, it has been so nice to simply create again. Makes me feel like a kid.
I don't know what this next year will bring but I'm just... so grateful to be alive. It's a true blessing and privilege to grow old that many do not receive in their life. And while I may not truly be "old" in the grand scheme of things compared to many, I, WE ALL, will always be the oldest we have ever been in every moment of our existence. Whether that be 9 or 90. So enjoy your oldest moment every chance you get! <3
2K notes · View notes
moon-rivr · 5 months
Text
cara mia
Tumblr media
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: mostly told from miguel’s pov, mentions of religious guilt, somnophilia, soft sex, unprotected p in v, riding somewhat, pregnancy, and a wee bit of angst (muahahah)
author’s note: i did get inspiration from the addams family for this personality wise but i didn’t use the goth elements (sry)
word count: 4k+
Padre nuestro que estás en el cielo, santificado sea tu nombre
The prayer had imprinted itself in Miguel's head after countless hours of being on his knees, forcing himself to pretend that he felt the same type of enlightenment as the other people around him. He envied the people at his church, he wished that he could devote himself and his life to God the same way that they did, but he felt like he was speaking to a brick wall every time he prayed.
The gold cross around his neck felt more like a burden than a symbol of salvation, reminding him of what a failure he'd been to himself and his community. Countless hours of bible study that were supposed to provide him with some hope about humanity, provide him some clarity about his existence and role in the world, only gave him headaches and more questions.
The day that Gabriella was taken away from him, he selfishly prayed in his head that everything would be okay. He knew that it was wrong to pray only when he needed something, but he needed for something to be out of his control for once. "Por favor no te me lleves a mi hija, Diosito. Ella tiene toda su vida por delante. Te lo suplico," he spoke in his mind, hoping that God would listen to him. that he wouldn't lose the only ray of light in his life. (please don’t take my daughter away from me, God. she has her entire life ahead of her. i plead you)
"Please daddy!" Gabriella’s voice clouded his mind as she faded away into nothing, the buildings around them collapsing into pure ash. He cursed God for not listening to him as he fell to the ground on his knees, his head dropped. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked at his hands, having just the remainder of what was. Peter had rushed to his side, attempting to get him to stand up before the universe faded into nothing but everything inside Miguel hurt. He felt like his limbs were 50 pound weights as he stepped into the portal to go back home, the reminders of his selfishness lingering.
Devotion had never come easy to Miguel, whether it be to an entity or to a thing, but you were the only exception to that rule. He wasn't sure if you'd done it out of sympathy after seeing his weakened state or if you were just simply doing your job as a barista, but you had given him a free bagel with his coffee one day. "I know this probably won't help much, but you look like you need it," you told him once you handed him the small bag and coffee cup.
Miguel didn't answer you, his mouth felt like sandpaper every minute of the day, but he appreciated the small act of kindness you'd shown him. You didn't even have to ask him for his order, making him the cup out of memory. He felt people's stares on him as he walked to one of the tables, their noses scrunching up from his body odor. He hadn't had the energy to come out of his room, but he decided to take the healing journey step by step.
He wasn't sure of when was the last time he took a shower was but he was certain that it must've been a while with the way that everybody scooted their chairs to be further away from him. He brought the cup of coffee to his mouth, taking a sip from it as he tried to will himself to swallow it. The coffee beans tasted like wet mud as they went down his throat, the walls of his throat constricting. He eventually gave up on trying to drink the coffee, placing his head down on the table as he shut his eyes.
The melody in the coffee shop lulled him to sleep after countless hours of staying up, the memories of Gabriella ringing through his head every time he closed his eyes. He wasn't sure of how long he had fallen asleep for, only getting waken up by your soft tapping on his shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt your nap, but we're about to close the shop. You're free to come back tomorrow if you want," you spoke and his head shot up, looking out the window to see that the moon was already peeking out from the clouds.
Miguel stayed quiet, unsure of what to say as he fished something out of his pocket as a way to make it up to you. "No, no. Don't worry about it," you tried to dismiss the bill he was handing you, but he was even more stubborn than you were. You ended up accepting the bill a couple seconds later and he left the coffee shop, feeling like a ship lost at bay. He didn't have anywhere else to call home after he lost Gabriella and his apartment felt too empty. Too quiet. He decided to head back to the HQ, burying his face in work until his exhaustion took place of the pain.
A couple days had passed by when he heard a knock on his office door, Jessica appearing in the doorway. "Miguel, we're worried about you. You haven't exited your office in days and you.. stink. Just take a shower, please," she told him, approaching him the way that one would to a child. The thought of showering just made Miguel want to curl up and burst out crying since the last time he showered was a few moments prior to Gabriella’s last embrace. If he tried hard enough, he could still smell her bubble soap on his clothes.
It took Miguel a while to get into the shower and even longer to scrub his body, his skin raw from how hard he'd tried to make the memories fade away. He sat on the shower floor for a couple minutes with his hands buried in his hands, willing himself not to let his tears combine with the running water. He got up on shaky legs, gripping the shower wall as he let the water run through his reddened skin. His talons unsheathed and he looked down at them, wanting to claw at himself until nothing was left.
Jessica had convinced Miguel to go back to the coffee shop after she saw him fawning over your public file, convincing him to try to have a conversation with you. He showed up to the coffee shop the next day, a complete stranger from the man that showed up just a week beforehand. He'd taken a shower and he fixed his unruly curls a bit, wearing a button down shirt and jeans. As always, you made his order without him needing to say much but he found himself wanting to talk to you this time around.
"Hi, I'm sorry if this is coming off as weird seeing how you found me sleeping on one of the tables earlier and you saw me in that state, but I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime? I’d like to get to know you better if you gave me the opportunity," he said as he came up to the counter once your shift ended, expecting to be found with rejection. "That sounds good. I'll give you my number and you can text me when it works for you," you responded, scribbling down your number on a napkin.
The encounter between the two of you led to more dates and eventually to the two of you getting married a year later. He found himself completely captured by the way you carried yourself around, willing to give you the world if you asked. He'd be willing to lower down the moon at your request, if only to see the smile on your face. But what he loved the most was the fact that you didn't ask him for the moon, you simply asked for his love in exchange for yours. Loving you felt so simple to him, something as easy as taking a breath.
Miguel glanced over at the clock on the bedside table, letting out a small groan as he looked down at the tent in his sleep pants. He knew he couldn't control himself around you, just having you around made his cock twitch, but he'd never will himself to be too far from you. He glanced back at your sleeping form, seeing the way that your sleep gown bunched up around your thighs. He saw your glistening cunt through the small crack of sunlight peeking through the window, his willpower breaking down.
He spread your legs gently, pushing your nightgown up to your stomach as he pushed his cock in. Your tight walls engulfed him instantly and he had to resist letting out a moan so as to not wake you. Your pussy was practically gushing around his cock as he bottomed out, sucking him deeper. He slowly retracted his cock before pushing it back inside, watching as you stirred in your sleep. His hand came up to your breast, cupping it through the lace material of your gown. He leaned in, sucking your nipple through the material as his tongue rolled over the nub.
His hips rolled slowly as he gripped your thighs for some kind of balance, making sure that you weren't stirring too much in your sleep. While he had a desire to satiate, he'd never be that selfish to wake you up in order to fulfill his needs. "You're all wet for me even in your dreams, corazón," he murmured, his talons drawing small lazy circles on your thighs. He brought his hands up to your front, punching and pulling at your nipples while his cock pushed in and out of you.
"Morning Miguel, did you sleep good?" You asked him, tilting your head to the side to look at him with a small smile on your face. "Cada dia que me despierto siendo tu marido es bueno para mi, cara mia. I'm sorry for waking you up," he responded, his cheeks burning a bit at the prospect of bothering you. God, he'd never be able to get enough of you at this point. Even with the darkened curtains, a slimmer of light managed to peel through as it illuminated your face in an almost angelic halo. (every day that i wake up as your husband is good for me, my darling)
"What's got you all needy, Miguelito?" You inquired, rolling over on top of him as your night gown flowed over your legs. "You, it's always you," he whispered, his hands coming up to your breasts as you slowly sunk onto his cock. You let out a small groan as you felt your wetness dripping onto your thighs and his, the access proving to be much easier. You slowly moved up and down his cock, your tight walls engulfing around him without any remorse. He thought he could die happy like this, engulfed by you and the love combined between you two.
His hips moved upwards, assisting you with the rhythm as he sat up straight, his mouth attaching itself to your neck. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he slowly began to place small bites on your collarbone and shoulders, marking you as his. With every mark that he left on your skin, it felt like he was tattooing yourself into your life. Making himself known even if he wasn't present. The pace between the two of you wasn't rushed or rough, it was simply just enjoying the company of each other and being in each other's arms.
"I've been thinking about getting you pregnant, cara mia. Think about how lovely our kids would be, just a reflection of the devotion I feel for you," he murmured into your skin, his fangs gently grazing against your neck. "Get me pregnant, Miguel. I want everybody to look at us and just see how in love we are," you responded, your walls clenching around his cock just as a security measure. His thrusts got sloppier as he approached his orgasm, his fingers coming down to your clit to help you through yours. His mouth was swirling around your nipples, licking and sucking at the hardened breast while his other hand played with your other one.
Your orgasm approached you rather quickly, your back arching as your breath hitched from the intensity. Your deep breaths filled the room as Miguel's hips moved into you, fucking you through your orgasm and his. He came a couple seconds after you, the tip of his cock pushing the cum into your cervix just to make sure it would take. You rolled over to your side, your arms still wrapped around Miguel's neck as the two of you started to come down from that euphoria. His fingers stroked small circles on your back as his mouth came down to press a kiss on your forehead.
You ended up taking a shower after that, though the two of you didn't like to have sex in there since it could get slippery quick. That didn't stop Miguel from lathering soap all over your body, his hands massaging your breasts, thighs, and the globes of your ass. He gestured for you to jump and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he pinned you to the wall, his lips attacking everywhere he hadn't gotten the chance to earlier.
"I just wanna appreciate you like the work of art you are but you make it so hard when you look at me like that," he told you, leaving a bite on top of your breasts as his eyes locked on you. "Like what?" You looked over at him with doe eyes, your lashes fluttering with the water hitting them. He let out a small chuckle, turning off the water faucet before he carried you out the shower. "Miguel, you're making a mess!" You exclaimed in between little giggles as you held onto him. "Apologies," he offered, wrapping you up in a towel like a burrito without paying much regard to his own dripping stature.
As the two of you got out of your shared shower, LYLA appeared in front of Miguel making him let out a small grumble. "Good morning! You need to be in HQ at approximately ten in order to get all your paperwork done," she announced, her voice chirpy as she spoke. "Tell them I'm dead," he muttered, waving LYLA away as he pressed kisses on your shoulder. "While I would love to do that, you used that excuse about two weeks ago," LYLA responded, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Miguel.
Miguel let out a small scoff as he buried his face into your neck, his large hands splayed on your stomach. "Then tell them I'm spending time with my wife today. You're in charge," he told her, shooing her off for the last time before he gave you the opportunity to finish up getting moisturized. "I wouldn't recommend getting dressed, cariño. You won't be needing clothes today," he told you as you stepped back into the bedroom, beckoning you back into the bed.
The day was spent having lazy sex on almost every corner of the house, determination evident in his features to have his sperm take. He had his way with you on the bed, in front of the mirror that was in the bathroom, the kitchen counter while you two were waiting for lunch, and the couch when you put on a show for some background noise.
"Every time I think I can't love you more, you just prove me wrong," he whispered into your ear as he stroked your back lazily, his softening cock warming up your cunt. The love he felt towards you seemed to practically seep out his pores with the way that he treated you. "Becoming your wife has been one of the greatest experiences ever. Thank you for allowing me to love you, Miguel," you murmured, your hand lazily running through his curls.
A couple of weeks passed by when you came to the realization that you'd missed your period for the last month and the food that normally had you salivating was making you gag at just the mere sight of it. You hadn't been expecting for the sperm to take so easily after your previous doctors had described a problem with your uterus, but you couldn't help but feel excited at the prospect of having a child with Miguel. You stopped by the drugstore near your house, getting a few pregnancy tests just in case.
You practically gulped the bottle of water you'd taken with you to the bathroom, waiting until you felt that urge. It took a couple minutes before you were ready to pee on the tests, and it would take even longer for the results to come out. You washed your hands and looked up at the mirror, picturing yourself swollen with the product of you and Miguel's adoration inside. The timer on your phone made you jump after being in your head for ten minutes, turning it off before you looked at the results. Pregnant.
You decided to go surprise Miguel at HQ since you felt like you were practically bursting out with excitement and you didn't trust yourself to keep it a secret for too long. It took you a while to arrive since it's in the middle of Nueva York and it was lunch hour, but even the stench of the subway couldn't deter your happiness. You were instantly greeted with smiles as you walked into the HQ, most of the members being people you recognized. You took the opportunity to go pet the cat and greet Lego Spider-Man before heading up to Miguel's office.
"¡Hijos de su puta madre! How many shocking times do I have to say that you don't free the anomalies to even out your little basketball team?!" Miguel's voice boomed from his office, clear to your ears outside. You knocked on the door before stepping in, seeing Miguel's demeanor completely change as he looked at you. "Just go, we'll finish this later," he told the group of teenagers and they all scattered away quickly.
You walked up to Miguel, wrapping your arms around his neck as you let out a small chuckle. "You shouldn't be so hard on them, you know? It's not good for your stress levels either," you whispered, kissing his cheek. “I know, mi vida. But they just make it so hard not to get pissed off," he mumbled, resting his head on the crook of your neck. "Well you're gonna have to control that because soon enough, you'll have a little one that needs their daddy for a long time," you responded, dropping the subtle hint and his head shot up immediately.
"You're not messing around with me or anything right?" He asked, his hands around your waist as he looked down at you. You took the ziploc baggie holding the pregnancy test inside, handing it over to him. "Ay mi amor. You don't know how happy it makes me to be able to have a kid with you," he spoke, littering small kisses on your face as he held you close to him. He took a couple minutes to allow for you to enjoy the news before he started going into an overprotective mode, finding the best ob-gyn nearby.
Though Miguel had multiple responsibilities towards the multiverse and to maintaining the safety of the city, he still accompanied you to the first appointment. "You know we'll have plenty of these, so you don't need to come," you told him, but he shook his head as he opened the door for you at the clinic. "I refuse to miss out on anything important, mi amor. The multiverse will hopefully still be intact while I get back," he responded, guiding you towards one of the chairs.
Your eyes drifted to the women sitting in the lobby, some of them distraught with the news of what's growing inside of them while others were crying out of joy. What you couldn't help but notice though, was that most of them were alone as they waited. You'd never felt so appreciative towards Miguel than in this moment and you couldn't help the tears that began coating your eyes.
"What's wrong?" Miguel asked, immediately concerned as he looked at you. "I just feel so lucky being here with you, I'm sorry. It's funny, I got scared when this whole thing happened, since y'know, we have no idea how to be parents but just having you by my side is gonna make this okay," you rambled, wiping away at the tears rolling down your cheeks.
He kissed your forehead as he held your hand, waiting for your name to be called. "Do you want me to come in?" He asked before you nodded, walking with him to the room. He held your hand throughout the whole process while the doctor basically went through some of the dangers you'd possibly be going through with this pregnancy. The baby seemed to be growing fine, though, the size of a raspberry at this stage.
You had quit your job at the coffee shop a little while after getting married to Miguel, so having time to rest wasn't too big of an issue for you. You'd busied yourself with attempting to knit clothes for the baby, your fingers covered with small indents from the needle. "You don't have to do that, you know we have more than enough money to buy baby clothes," he assured you when he saw you crying after a onesie ended up with only one foot sleeve. You eventually got better at it as the time went by, the onesies even having small designs on them.
Though the next nine months hadn't been a walk in the park, they were all the more tolerable having Miguel by your side. He didn't care if you had to wake up at 4 in the morning to satiate your cravings for pickles, even joining you sometimes. He didn't mind carrying you around the house when your ankles felt too swollen to even stand on. He just loved seeing you practically glowing with his love, the pregnancy making you look all the more gorgeous no matter what you said.
The birth was supposed to be an easy process but Miguel could feel that something was wrong as he waited in the lobby with the other expecting fathers. The nurses came over to him, giving him the grim news that you were hemorrhaging but assuring him that they were doing everything in their power. Their words eventually became garbled as a white noise ran through his mind, a pain that he could feel in his soul at the thought of being without you coating his body completely.
Miguel dropped to his knees at the small chapel in the hospital that night, all the different prayers melting into one as he tried to get the words out. His knees were scraped raw as they rubbed against the cold concrete, a well fitting punishment in his opinion for his time apart from the church. He clamped the cross around his neck, holding it as a safe haven before he pressed his hands together, starting with a prayer the best way he knew how.
He started off by thanking God for everything he'd given him, even if he felt like nothing was worth thanking for at the moment. He pushed the feelings of betrayal deep down, knowing that they were completely unprecedented as a non-practicing Catholic. Later, he prayed for you. Not for himself, no. But for you, to get better so you could continue to bless his life with your presence and bless the life of your child together. He continued with this viscous cycle of praying until the sun came up, talking to the plastic cross in a hospital chapel.
The baby was discharged a few days later and while Miguel had everything to take care of it, he felt unprepared. As Miguel held the sleeping baby in his arms, he felt like a part of him was ripped out at your absence. The baby proved as a symbol of his love and devotion for you, though. He tried to be strong for the baby, he really did, but his emotions were starting to bubble up in the bottle he'd stuffed them in. He set the baby down in its crib, looking over at your collection of dresses in the closet as he brought them to his nose, your perfume hitting him instantly. He knew that you were in the hospital recovering, but his heart ached to feel your warmth, laughter, and love again.
The corners of his eyes prickled with salty, warm tears as he cut away the petals from the roses you'd ordered just a week ago. His nose was running from his allergies, but he refused to ask for help with such a mundane task. He refused to let your presence from the home fade out, taking care of everything you would've done along with his own responsibilities. He sat down on the edge of the bed, starting to comply with what he'd told God while he was in the hospital. That he'd start praying again as long as you were okay. He’d be willing to put himself through the process of talking to what he deemed as a wall just for you.
1K notes · View notes
When BSD men have to carry you.
Pairing: Fem!Reader/BSD Men
In this post: ✨Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, Doppo Kunikida, Atsushi Nakajima, Yukichi Fukuzawa, Edogawa Ranpo, Fyodor Dostoyevsky✨
Synopsis; Various scenarios where the BSD men have to carry you in their arms.
Guys should I double space or single space my paragraphs? Let me know…Bro this turned out to be a BEAST! Please requests are open!! Request for bsd or any other character!
Edogawa Ranpo
Tumblr media
You had been walking home with your boyfriend, strolling peacefully as the dying sun elongated your shadows on the empty pavement. Your hand rested in Ranpo’s right hand, his left hand holding a lollipop he was happily licking.
Your eyes were staring at your feet, but your mind was elsewhere, thinking back to day you had spent in the office, more precisely Kenji’s small cousins coming to visit him from the countryside. The very unplanned visit had obviously caused chaos in the already disorganized life the Armed Detective Agency lived (Kunikida had almost died on the spot), but soon everyone started having fun. One precise moment had remained etched to your brain, recalling memories of your childhood you yourself had forgotten: Dazai carrying the little children on his back, twirling them around as they laughed.
The last time you had been carried in someone’s arms was so long ago the memory was fuzzy, and almost non-existent in your brain. Slowly, you wondered if your genius boyfriend would maybe comply to your very childish wish. The words bubbled in your chest, quickly pressing against your lips. You tried to calm down your beating heart, slightly embarrassed, but before you could even utter the first syllable, Ranpo turned to look at you, his eyes glittering in the sunset.
“I’ll do it just because it’s you.”
“H-how did you know what I wanted to ask?” Your boyfriend’s mind never ceased to amaze you.
“I was watching you today at the agency, and I immediately knew what you were thinking when you looked at Dazai.” Your cheeks became an even darker shade of red, and you nibbled on your lip, feeling embarrassment running all over your body.
Ranpo cleared his throat, and you glanced back at him, finding him kneeling in front of you, his lollipop hanging lazily from his lips. Your heart skipped a beat, and a happy giggle flew out of your mouth before you climbed on your boyfriend’s back. He quickly adjusted his hands to hold you more comfortably. “Hold on tight.” He called to you, before standing up.
You gasped, throwing your arms around his neck, and nuzzling your lips against his neck. “Ah, (Y/N)! That tickles!” He whined, making you laugh even more.
Ranpo started walking again, heading towards your home. You were on cloud nine, happily expressing your joy by kissing every inch of Ranpo’s skin that you could reach. “I love you, I love you!” You kept repeating, an idiotic smile practically glued to your lips.
“The things I do for you!” He exclaimed, faking annoyance, even through his heart beamed with joy, knowing he was the one who had made you smile so brightly you were rivaling the sun.
Ryunosuke Akutagawa
Tumblr media
You had been lying down on the couch in Akutagwa’s office for the past hour, patiently waiting for him to finish working on some paperwork that had to be absolutely handed in by the end of the day. You had first come in as you two had planned to walk home, but your boyfriend had quickly explained the situation. Working in the same organization, you understood, and simply pressed a kiss to his pale skin before settling down comfortably, and waiting for him to be done.
As time sluggishly went on, the cozy warmth in Akutagwa’s office and his delicate cologne that permeated everything around you, slowly started to make you drowsy. The constant scratching of his pen against the paper did not help either, and you were soon slipping in and out of consciousness.
Akutagawa finished the last report he had to write, exhaling quietly, a little bit of tension easing from his shoulders. He slipped the lid on his pen, ordering the pages on his desk, knowing his assistant would deliver them as soon as you two would leave. Akutagawa stood up, stretching his back. “(Y/N), I’m done, let’s go…” His words trailed off when he turned to face you, finding you to be adorably sleeping on his couch.
The sight almost melted his heart, before he sadly realized he had to wake you up, even though he knew you had had trouble sleeping last night. He sincerely did not want to wake you up, desiring you to get the sleep you so needed. Akutagawa brainstormed for a few moments, thinking how to solve the issue, before an idea stepped forward: quietly, and delicately, Akutagawa commended Rashomon to slither towards you, picking you up with the most care in the world to not wake you. The dark coils carried you to your boyfriend’s back, placing you vertically against him, so your chest was pressing against his back. The black tendrils wrapped around your torso, safely locking you to Alutagwa’s back, making you become an almost human backpack. Your boyfriend reached to place your limp arms around his neck, and commanded Rashomon to hold your legs against him, so they wouldn’t accidentally drag on the floor and hurt you. And finally, one more coil gently supported your neck, your cheek now pressing against Akutagawa’s shoulder.
He made sure that you were soundly asleep before he walked out of the office, non caring of the other Port Mafia members who glanced at you two, clearly confused. The only unfazed one seemed to be Chuuya, but what could surprise him after years of living with Dazai?
The whole way home, Akutagawa made sure you were always sound asleep and comfortable, timidly holding your hand when he was sure he was very very very far away from the Port Mafia headquarters. When you two were in the elevator in your apartment complex, Akutagawa looked at you through the reflection, feeling his heart flutter when he realized you had started drooling in your sleep. You were truly the most beautiful women in the world.
He quietly shut the door of your apartment. Akutagawa gently laid you down on your bed, making sure you weren’t about to fall off the edge of the bed, before he finally allowed Rashomon to retreat. Just as he turned around to go grab his phone, he felt your warm hand on his wrist. He turned around, seeing you sleepily look at him, your eyes caked in sleep and barely remembered dreams.
“Come lay in bed?” You asked sluggishly.
Akutagawa could not resist. He quickly climbed bed next to you, welcoming you in his embrace, watching as you used his chest as a pillow. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, suddenly wincing. Before Akutagawa could ask what was wrong, you mumbled, “There’s a wet spot on your back,”
Akutagawa could not help the small smile on his face, kissing your forehead. “I know. Don’t worry about it.” You complied, quickly slipping back into slumber, and Akutagawa soon followed, closing his eyes.
Osamu Dazai
Tumblr media
You had spent the whole day walking around Yokohama with Dazai, holding his hand tightly, eating whatever your hearts desired. Your last wish for the day was to go on the Ferris wheel, offering a night view of the twinkling city, making it resemble a field of fallen stars.
The both of you were at the very top of the Ferris Wheel; you were admiring the view, and Dazai had his head resting on your shoulder, observing the view of the city as well. His dark curls tickled your shoulders. “Did you have fun today, belladonna?” Dazai asked quietly, not wanting to destroy the magic of the moment.
“I had the best time of the my life. The only thing that put a blemish on today’s perfection was this skirt.” You pointed to the short skirt you had decided to wear that today.
Dazai glanced down after hearing your words, perplexedly staring at the article of clothing he had quite enjoyed on you: the skirt was beautiful on you, accentuating your gorgeous body. “Why was it a bad choice?” He asked, playing with the hem of it.
“Well, not the skirt in itself, but I usually wear some biker shorts underneath, because my thighs rub against each other and it hurts like a bitch! And I forgot them today!” You quickly hitched it up to show Dazai the reddened skin between your thighs. “And today’s heat did not help. Every step is an agony.” You admitted, hastily shoving your skirt down when you realized the ride was coming to an end.
Dazai chivalrously helped you out of the Ferris wheel, holding onto your arm. He noticed how you subtly tried to waddle instead of walking, not wanting your thighs to brush together again. “Bella, seeing you in such a dramatic situation makes your poor boyfriend’s heart bleed!” He dramatically stated, over exaggerating every word.
You chuckled. “I, your valiant boyfriend will sacrifice my knees for you.” He called, quickly kneeling in front of you.
“Are you sure, Dazai? I don’t want to hurt you…”
“My dear, you could never hurt me.” Dazai smiled at you, looking over his shoulder. You blushed, finally deciding that you could not walk anymore, and you gratefully climbed on his back, pressing a kiss to his head and whispering a soft, “Thank you.”
Dazai adjusted his hands to hold you comfortably and started walking home. “Am I not a gentleman, (Y/N)?” Dazai asked, turning to look at you and wiggle his eyebrows.
“Well, I am not so sure.” You laughed.
“Oh! You doubt my honor? For what reason, my lady?” Dazai whined.
“Well, I don’t think a gentleman would use this opportunity to touch my ass.” Dazai’s hands had been initially supporting your thighs, but his elegant fingers had soon slid further back, deciding to hold your butt, and you were sure that had not been just to carry you better.
Dazai tsked loudly. “T’is simply the fare to pay for this unique transport system.” You laughed, letting your head rest against his broad shoulders.
The rest of the walk home was peacefully, the two of you talking about random subjects. When you got home, Dazai gently rested you on the bed. “Do you want me to apply cream on the irritated skin?” He asked, starting to unbutton his shirt.
“Yes, please.”
Dazai quickly grabbed some Aloe Vera gel from the bathroom, coming back to the bedroom. You had removed your skirt, and were now lying in bed in just one of Dazai’s old shirts and your underwear.
Dazai knelt in front of your legs, quickly and efficiently applying the cream to all the irritated areas. After finishing, you pressed a kiss to his lips to thank him.
“Hey, (Y/N),”
“Yes?”
“Since you can’t close your leg until the cream has dried, can I eat you out?”
“Dazai!” You screamed, throwing a pillow at him. Your boyfriend ducked just in time.
“Hey! It’s not my fault! You’re lying there with your legs spread so enticingly!”
You threw all the pillows you had on the bed at Dazai’s head, and yet, somehow, he managed to have his way, keeping your legs spread way long after the cream had dried.
Doppo Kunikida
Tumblr media
The day had been spent with the rest of the Armed Detective Agency at the beach, splashing in the water, running around and chasing each other in the water. You had built a sandcastle with Atushsi and Kyouka, sun-bathed with Dazai, and had taken strolls along the shoreline with your boyfriend, Kunikida.
You were currently helping Kenji and Rampo make another sandcastle, while Kunikida held a book in his hand, sitting in the shade. He wasn’t reading the book, too focused on watching you laugh and giggle, the story in front of him long forgotten. The sun was slowly descending, disappearing behind the thin line of the horizon.
Slowly, every member of the Agency had retreated to their rooms, and now only the four of you remained, wanting to enjoy every moment left in the dying day.
Kunikida glanced down at his watch, stretching his neck, and thinking maybe it was time to head home, leaving the day at the beach to became a memory. “(Y/N)!” He called, waving his arm to catch your attention. You turned around, smiling. Kunikida gestured to his watch, and you threw a thumbs up in his direction, quickly waving goodbye to Kenji and Rampo, before sauntering over to your boyfriend. You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, before you started helping him pack your towels and the various books the two of you had brought to the beach.
Holding one bag each, you started the walk back to the hotel, feeling the warmth of the cement underneath your flip-flops. “Today was so fun!” You squealed, sliding your hand in Kunikida’s.
“It sure was.” He answered back, threading your fingers together.
“I think my favorite part was when Dazai managed to convince the president to lie down in the sand and then made him a mermaid tail with the sand!” You giggled, also recalling Kunikida’s exasperated expression when he had caught Rampo trying to eat a snack that had fallen in the sand.
Kunikida chuckled. “It was a fun day today. We should take more holidays together.” He thought, already starting to meticulously plan the next one in his head.
You nodded, a sudden wave of exhaustion scaling your back and implanting its fangs in your head. Kunikida started mentioning other destinations that would be fun to visit, but your throat suddenly felt parched and your head boiling. You didn’t hear his words, the world starting to melt into confusing figures around you. Suddenly, the ground seemed to have been yanked away from you.
You managed to whimper Kunikida’s name before your legs gave up and you tumbled to the ground. Kunikida turned around, his smile evaporating when he realized your eyes had rolled to the back of your head and you were fainting. The bag he was carrying toppled to the ground and he dove to catch you, holding you in his arms.
“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” He asked, fear gripping his insides.
“Don’t worry, Kunikida. I think it’s just heatstroke. I did run around underneath the blazing sun for most of the day.” You chuckled dryly, trying to not worry your perpetually panicking boyfriend.
Your words did little to help Kunikida, who started digging through the bag closest to him, trying to find a water bottle he knew was there, his mind already flooding with self-deprecating thoughts because he had not thought about making sure you wouldn’t catch heatstroke.
Knowing your boyfriend, you could read his thoughts reflected in his gorgeous eyes, and gently squeezed his hand. Kunikida turned to look at you, water bottle in hand. “My darling over-thinker, it’s fine. This is not your fault.”
Kunikda gulped, nodding curtly, before opening the bottle and helping you drink half of it, pouring the rest on your head to help you cool down.
You waited a few more moments, resting in Kunikida’s lap before nodding. “Okay, I’m fine. Let’s keep going.” You tried to stand up, but before you had even managed to place one foot perpendicular to the ground, Kunikida had wrapped one arm around your back, and the other underneath your knees, lifting you up in his arms. You gasped, holding onto his neck.
“Kunikida! What are you doing?” You asked, as you watched him start walking.
“I am not making you walk when you are in these conditions.” He said, not wanting you to get even more tired. Seeing you collapse had already made him lose thirty years of his life; he didn’t need a repeat.
“But Kunikida, darling, I’m fine! I’m not that sick! And I’m too heavy for you!” You rambled, trying to get down. Your wiggling only made Kunikida hold onto you more tightly. The moment you uttered the last sentence, Kunikida stared at you, clearly waiting for you to take back what you had just said.
You pouted, realizing you could not win this fight. You rested your head on his shoulder, letting him take care of you.
The minute you got back to the hotel, Kunikida laid you down on the bed, raiding the mini fridge for ice, and gently placing it on your wrists and ankles. Only when you were lying in bed, slowly gaining back the sparkle in your eyes did Kunikida feel his heart stop beating a thousand times a minute, and let himself collapse on the bed.
Let’s just say, for the rest of the holiday, you were basically dragged back into the shade by Kunikida every 30 minutes.
Yukichi Fukuzawa
Tumblr media
The evening was finally over; you had spent the whole night at a charity event held by the most powerful people in all of Yokohama. Your boyfriend, being Fukuzawa, the president of the Armed Detective Agency, had to attend, and to make his evening a little bit more bearable, he had asked you to accompany him.
The night had been relatively fun, talking to various people and enjoying some expensive champagne. The only tense moment was when the two of you had stumbled on Mori, who for some reason, was there as well. Luckily, no fight erupted between the two men; they curtly nodded at one another and then moved on with their own affairs.
The best part of the evening, for you, had been when they had played some slow, romantic music, and invented everyone to dance with their partners. You had enjoyed swaying in Fukuzawa’s arms, getting lost in his eyes. But you were paying the price now, your feet aching at every step in your stiletto heels. Every step feeling like shards of glass stabbed your already aching skin.
You and Fukuzawa were heading home, but every step was torture, a grimace carving itself in your face. “My dear, what is wrong?” Fukuzawa asked, his deep voice momentarily distracting you from the pain.
You glanced at him, your heart fluttering when your eyes caught his handsome face glimmering in the moonlight. You nodded down to your feet, lifting your dress’ skirt slightly to reveal your two personal torture machines. “My heels: they’re killing me.”
“Would you like to take them off?” Fukuzawa asked, glancing down at your black heels. He had never worn any type of heeled-shoe, but could imagine what they felt like.
“I wish, but I can’t walk home barefoot.”
“I’ll carry you.”
“What? No, Yukichi, I can’t let you carry me! Our house is far.”
“(Y/N), every step you have been taking these last few minutes makes you visibly wince in pain. I cannot let the woman I love suffer so.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest, and couldn’t help but thank whichever divinity had gifted you this man. Using his shoulder for your balance, you slipped off your high heels, immediately becoming way shorter. You grimaced in pain when you noticed the shoes had managed to create various blisters on your feet. Your right foot had been more unlucky, raw skin visible in the silver light, and even a few trickles of blood.
Fukuzawa gently kneeled down in front of you, inspecting your feet. You saw concern paint his eyes, and his lips pressed a soft kiss to both your ankles. “You should have told me sooner,” he scolded gently, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
You nodded shyly, knowing he was right. You bent down to retrieve your heels, holding them with the tip of your fingers.
As soon as you straightened your back, you suddenly felt Fukuzawa’s warm hands hold you, before you were hoisted into his arms, suddenly finding yourself to be almost kissing your boyfriend’s lips. You blinked, using your free hand to grasp his shoulder. “I thought you would carry me on your back,” you admitted, not complaining that Fukuzawa had decided to carry you in his arms instead. You could feel his warm, and solid chest against your body, making you feel safe and cared for.
“I already get to see you so little, I would like to spend the rest of the night with your beautiful face in my line of sight.” Fukuzawa said, glancing at you warmly. You leaned forward, pressing a fervent kiss to his lips, knowing that Fukuzawa wasn’t always the biggest fan of PDA. But this one time, your silver-haired partner, kissed you back, mirroring your passion, the moon’s inconsistent light shielding you from any unwanted attention.
You pulled back from the kiss, leaning against his shoulders, getting lulled by his rhythmic breath.
When the two of you got home, Fukuzawa immediately tended to your feet, disinfecting the wounds, and wrapping them with bandages, before the two of you cuddled underneath the blankets to fall asleep.
The next day, Fukuzawa seemed to hover around your desk more than usual, making sure you could walk without problem and did not need to be carried. You told him not to worry.
At the end of the day, Kunikida looked outside the window of the Armed Detective Agency, and quickly looked away, seeing his president pressing a soft kiss to your lips before whisking you into his arms.
Nakahara Chuuya
Tumblr media
Chuuya downed the remaining champagne in his glass, chuckling alongside with Koyo. The Port Mafia Christmas party was in full swing around the two of them. The buffet had been adequately raided, and Chuuya noticed quite a few people drunkenly wobbling around. Higuchi was heavily leaning on Akutagawa in the left corner of the room. He knew that you were somewhere around the room, having fun with your friends. Chuuya had only spent a few moments with you, pressing a kiss to your hand before leaving you: being an executive, he terrified the rest of your friends who were of a greatly inferior in rank. To let them enjoy their evening, he had stepped aside.
Koyo poured some more champagne in his glass, the melted, golden liquid sloshing around the delicate glass. “This champagne is real good,” Chuuya chirped happily, suddenly feeling a tap on his sleeve and turning around. Tachihara was standing in front of him, arms crossed around his chest.
“(Y/N) needs you.” He pointed his finger behind him, gesturing to your current location. “She’s shit-faced drunk and is just calling your name.” After having done his job, Tachihara walked away, joining Akutagawa.
Chuuya sighed, setting down his glass. The remaining champagne called to him, but he had to go. “Sorry, Koyo. Boyfriend duty calls.” He waved goodbye to his companion, start to head in between the crowd to find you.
As soon as people noticed that it was Chuuya, one of the most powerful executives, they quickly moved away, letting him through. But alcohol had rendered their reaction time significantly lower, and Chuuya still struggled.
“If we get attacked now, we’re fucked.” He grunted, after he had managed to push past a huddle of people who had formed a dance line and had somehow managed to run into itself, creating chaos. Chuuya adjusted his hat, scanning the purple couches that had been set around the room for the party: you had been there, the last time he saw you.
Your twinkling, beautiful laugh reached his ears over the cacophony in the room, like a siren song luring him. He followed the sound he loved so much, and finally reached you. You and your friends were sitting where he had left you. Your table was littered with empty bottles of various alcoholics, some of them open, and languidly dripping on the tabletop. Most of your friends were snoring, passed out, but a few them resisted stoically, dancing, or more wobbling clumsily, to the music. You were sitting on the couch, your cheeks red with alcohol, your hair beautifully disheveled, and singing along to the song with slurred words.
Chuuya stepped closer to you, gently placing his hand on yours. “Princess, I heard you were looking for me.” You turned around, hearing your boyfriend’s voice.
“Chuuya!” You called, your happy voice almost reaching a supersonic level. Without warning, you hooked your finger in his belt, dragging him down to the couch with you. Chuuya had only the time to blink before you climbed in his lap, straddling him. “I missed…*hic*…I missed you!” You giggled, poking his cheek continuously.
“How much have you had to drink, sweetheart?” Chuuya asked, adjusting your skirt so nothing would be revealed to anyone in the room around you.
“I don’t know!” You smiled lopsidedly at him, suddenly feeling sleepy now that your boyfriend was here. You almost fell backwards, Chuuya bringing you back against him in time.
“Okay. That’s it. We’re going home.” Chuuya decided, knowing that tomorrow’s hangover would shatter all plans he had to go ice skating with you.
You were so tired, and the room was spinning so rapidly around you that you nodded, wanting to go home. But you still had one more playful spark inside your chest. “But you have to carry me!” You whined, gripping your boyfriend tightly.
Chuuya caressed your clothed back, sighing. You were adorably cute when you were drunk. The feared port mafia executive was putty in your hands, and he adored every moment of it. Using his ability, Chuuya made you lighter in his arms, starting to walk with you clung onto him like a drunk, but beautiful koala. You giggled happily, inhaling your boyfriend’s musky cologne, and feeling lulled to sleep by his rhythmic walking. Your fingers traced heart shapes on his vest, humming a nonsensical song you were making up on the spot.
The sleepy silence of the deserted street was suddenly broken by a loud laugh that escaped you, scaring Chuuya. “What’s so funny, doll?” He asked, his heartbeat slowly calming down.
“I just realized that I love you to the moon and back!” You singsonged, smushing Chuuya’s cheeks together. Your boyfriend stared back at you, nothing but love glimmering in his eyes.
“I wuv y’too.” He managed to mumble through his squished cheeks, his heart almost on fire with joy. A gorgeous smile decorated your face, and you looked as gorgeous as an antique painting, before you suddenly collapsed against his chest, snoring loudly.
“Doll? What? You can’t just declare your love for me and then start sleeping!” Chuuya called, trying to shake your arm. But you had said what you needed to say, and was now happily in dreamland, sleeping peacefully in your boyfriend’s arms.
Chuuya realized waking you was impossible, and decided to press a kiss to your forehead, instead. He pulled you closer in his arms, enjoying the stroll through the moonlit Yokohama with his drunk koala safely in his arms.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Tumblr media
You had been lying in bed for a few days now. Your throat ached, as if someone had sandpapered it, and your nose had become red from all the tissues you had used. Your body temperature was acting weird, swinging from absolute boiling to absolute freezing. Right now you were freezing, gripping the duvet around you with your trembling fingers.
Your boyfriend, Fyodor, had been staying away from you to avoid getting sick, his anemia not providing a strong enough shield for him to be there. He did come in the room a few times, wearing a mask, but bringing you food and water, and caressing your forehead.
Your teeth were chattering from how cold you felt, and with a sudden whine, you realized that the heater had accidentally gone off in your room, rendering it even more freezing. You tried to convince yourself that you could get out of bed and walk the few steps to the heater. With an inhumane effort you, you dragged yourself up to a sitting position, immediately falling into a brutal couching fit.
When you opened your watery eyes, you noticed Fyodor was sitting on the edge of the bed. You immediately covered your mouth. “Fyodor, what are you doing here?” You asked, your voice broken.
“I could hear you coughing from the other room, milaya.” He called, a cold finger caressing your cheek. You averted your gaze, feeling embarrassed that you were being a burden to your permanently busy boyfriend.
Fyodor quickly read what you were thinking in your body gestures, and decided that actions would cure your scared heart more than his words. He slowly approached you, lifting a chin and pressing a kiss to your nose. Your already flushed cheeks became even redder. Fyodor then slowly cradled you into his arms, feeling your quivers shake his body as well. He grabbed the duvet, and threw it over your body, making sure you were safely encapsulated in its warmth, before picking you up.
“No, Fyodor, I don’t want to tire you out and then make you sick,” You protested meekly, weakly trying to push yourself away from his body.
“You’re freezing, milaya.” Fyodor stated, pulling you closer to himself. He expertly avoided your question, not wanting to admit that hearing you sick, and alone, in the other room had slowly destroyed his heart. The shards had slowly blossomed into the realization that he would not mind getting sick, if he could just hold you against himself while working. But he would never admit it.
You were too weak to try and convince him, happily giving up and allowing yourself to rest in your lover’s embrace as he sat back down in his office chairs, returning to work. You adjusted yourself, trying to get comfortable, accidentally uncovering your feet. Fyodor immediately tucked you back in, not wanting you to feel an inch of the cold air on your skin.
It wasn’t rare that you slept in Fyodor’s arms while he worked, his scent lulling you into a deep slumber. Your blocked nose was preventing you from smelling anything, and you shifted around his lap helplessly.
Fyodor blocked your movements. You stared up at him, slightly afraid that he would kick you out for disturbing him. Instead, Fyodor gently pulled you against himself, making sure you were comfortable, but starting to hum a quiet, Russian lullaby.
You instantly calmed down, your eyelids becoming heavier. Your body felt at peace, the shivers no longer wrecking your body. Right before sleep dragged you under the surface, you slipped your hand in Fyodor’s and pulled it close to your chest. You snuggled against his chest, starting to snore adorably.
Fyodor could not help but gaze lovingly at you, singing the Russian lullaby till he was sure you wouldn’t wake. And only then, did he lean down and kiss your lips, murmuring a quiet, “I love you,” to your ear.
Nakajima Atsushi
Tumblr media
Your weretiger boyfriend had thrown himself down the Armed Detective Agnecy stairs when Kunikida had told him you were coming back from a mission and had severely twisted your ankle. He was now anxiously pacing in front of the building, waiting for you.
When your taxi stopped in front of him, Atsushi almost ripped the car door off, worry sinking its claws in him. You smiled weakly at him, clearly very much in pain. “Hey darling,” you called, trying to calm Atsushi down, because he was clearly on the verge of a mental breakdown: his eyes were wide, his chest heaving, and he immediately ducked down to wrap you in his strong arms, irrationally fearing you might die from a twisted ankle.
You held him close to you, whispering that you were fine, and nothing was going to happen to you. When Atsushi’s heartbeat had steadied enough for him to not crumble on the ground crying, you pulled away from him, anchoring your left hand to the car door to slowly, and carefully slip out.
You put one foot down on the ground before Atsushi intervened. He would not let you walk on your foot, for no reason at all. He leaned down, and easily picked you up in his arms, his fingers digging into your skin, as if he were afraid you would slip out of his hold and hurt yourself even more.
As Atsushi carried you, you dragged your hands through his hair, scratching his scalp to further relax the panic that was tainting his gaze. The ironclad grip he had on you slowly loosened once he was in the elevator. “My knight in shining armor,” you giggled, caressing his chin.
“My love, please, please be careful from now on,” He whispered, looking at you with eyes that almost made you start crying. You nodded, pressing your forehead against his. And in the moment of peace, neither of you noticed the elevator door opening, signaling you had arrived to your destination.
You did, however, hear Kunikida shouting his head off because Dazai had accidentally poured coffee on his notebook. You and Atsushi giggled quietly, sharing one more chaste kiss before entering the chaos that was your office.
900 notes · View notes
shiftinglea · 26 days
Text
Death doesn’t exist.
Interestingly, in order for me to accept that I was the creator of my life, I had to learn more about death. It was a missing puzzle piece that allowed me to remember that I am God and can manifest whatever I desire.
But before that, I was quite doubtful about my ability to create. I would persist and believe (or try to anyway), but underneath all that, I had this encompassing fear of failure. Fear that by the end of my life, I would still not have succeeded with my manifestations. Fear of dying in regret and disappointment for not experiencing the life I desire.
And I thank my soul for guiding me to the book “Home with God” by Neal Donald Walsch, which allowed me to remember that there is no death. This book is a dialogue between the author and The God (aka the source of everything). When I was reading that book, it didn’t feel like I was learning something new. It felt like remembering something I already knew.
And in this post, I’ll be sharing information about death from that dialogue. Obviously, it’s your choice to believe it. But I would recommend you not listen to your mind. Listen to your soul; it speaks to you through your feelings. Intuition. Allow yourself to FEEL the information I’m sharing. Do not use logic for that; it’s quite limiting. So here we go:
Learning about death allowed me to stop fearing dying in regret and disappointment, which then produced confidence in my manifesting abilities and feeling at total peace every single day. There is nothing to be afraid of. Why? Because death doesn’t exist, and this is what I mean by that:
When people speak of death, they mean the end of life. But your life never ends. It’s the physical body that dies, and then at that moment, you discover that you are still alive. You keep on existing just in a different form. Death is simply an experience of leaving 3D and entering another dimension. And what’s the most fascinating thing: it’s different for everyone, or the experience of it is more like. Same with your life in physical form: it’s different for everyone depending on your beliefs, perception, and assumptions. You choose the experience of your life (consciously or unconsciously). The same with death: you choose your own experience of it. But what’s the same for everyone is that “death” has 3 stages.
The first stage is the same for everyone. “In stage one, at the moment of your death, you will instantly experience that life has gone on. This will be the same for everyone. There could be a brief period of disorientation, as you come to realize that you are not with your body, but, instead, are now separate from it.” During this stage, you realize even though your body died, your life hasn’t ended. For most people, it will be the first time they realize that they aren’t their bodies. The body is something you have. It’s not what you are. And then you move into the next stage.
The second stage is where everyone’s experience is unique depending on their beliefs about what happens after death:
• If you believe in reincarnation, for instance, you may experience moments from previous lives of which you have no previous conscious memory.
• If you believe that you will be enfolded in the embracing arms of an unconditionally loving God, that will be your experience.
• If you believe in a Day of Judgment or a Time of Reckoning, followed by paradise or damnation for all eternity, you will experience being judged and the judgment will turn out exactly as you imagined it would.
• If you died thinking that you deserve heaven, you will immediately experience that, and if you think that you deserve hell, you will immediately experience that. Heaven will be exactly as you imagined it would be, as will hell. If you have no idea about the specifics of either, you will make them up right on the spot. Then, these places will be created for you that way, instantly. You may remain in these experiences as long as you wish.
What’s important to know is that there is no Hell. But you can create hell for yourself if you choose to or believe that’s what you deserve.
However, you won’t stay there for one moment longer than you choose to. The moment you decide that you are done experiencing it, it’s finished. The same with Heaven.
Everyone remembers in the 2nd stage that they create their reality: in the physical and spiritual. In the physical realm, our creations may be delayed. But in the spiritual realm, our manifestations are instant. So you can experience whatever you desire for however long you wish. You can relive your life again or create a new one and enjoy that life for however long you want, and it will feel as real as in 3D. So during the 2nd stage, souls remember that they create their experiences and it’s instant. When they are done experiencing their creations, they move to the 3rd stage.
During the 3rd stage, you experience Ultimate Reality, which is merging with the Essence (God/Creator of all). You are enveloped with the infinite source of love and peace. You become one with The Creator. This is where you came from. It’s pure void. You are a pure being.
Every aspect of itself, every “good” and “bad” trait the soul thought it had is being absorbed by the Creator. It melts all shame, pride, fears, every character trait and leaves the soul with a beautiful emptiness. Experiencing nothing but Oneness. “Now you are merged with this Light and you feel dissolved. This “melting” completes the change in your identity. You no longer identify yourself in any way or at any level with the separate aspect of being that you called “you” in your physical life.”
The most fascinating thing is that you can experience the merging with everything during your physical life. This is what the void is for. When you reach the void state, you merge with Oneness where creation is instant.
During the 3rd stage of death, you can stay merged with the Creator for as long as you desire. But you won’t stay there forever because that’s it’s not what you desire. Because if you stay forever in this pure bliss and ecstasy, you would stop identifying it as “bliss” and “ecstasy”. Because there is nothing else there. There is no opposite of that. So you will desire to recreate yourself anew and choose your next physical incarnation because that’s the only way for you to experience your own magnificence.
The purpose of death is to reestablish your identity and to help you remember who you really are: One with God, an infinite source of creation. The purpose of physical life is to experience this knowing.
I want to point out the importance of your system of beliefs because they shape your life and your death (during the 2nd stage). You are constantly creating your reality. In physical life and after that. Some people think different rules apply in death (or in life). But no, it’s the same rules, the only difference is that your creations are instant after death. But again, they can be instant in your physical realm if you choose to believe that you can create instantly. It’s all about your beliefs and assumptions.
For most people who aren’t into LOA and don’t know that that’s are creators of their reality, their “death” will be the moment of remembrance that they are indeed creators. That they never stopped creating and they will see it clearly. But they don’t have to wait until death to experience themselves as God and creators. You can do it in physical life. It’s always your choice. You shape your life in physical and your life in spiritual.
For me, knowing more about death allowed me to stop feeling anxious about whether I’ll manifest my dream life before I die. The fact is that I never die, I just change my form. Life is eternal. It’s the body that dies. But you are not your body. It’s something you have. It helps you to experience wonderful things that you have chosen to experience.
973 notes · View notes
oddinarylani · 7 months
Text
'i just wished you cared about me' arranged marriage skz pt. 2.
pt 2: han, felix, seungmin, jeongin.
w: blood in han's, depression in seungmin's.
a/n: thank you for being patient, the long awaited part 2 is finally here, enjoy.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝓱𝓪𝓷. ↴
he stumbled into your home still laughing, with the voices of his friends still booming behind him. a second later the door is closed behind him and his laughter dies down into something soft. while your ears have perked at the sound, your eyes raising from the printed page of your book, you stay put in your spot on the couch if just adjusting a bit. he slides the beanie from his head, shaking his shiny brown hair out a bit before his eyes wander to your form. “oh!” he grabs his chest, jumping slightly. the reaction brings a small smile to your face, but you quickly force it down. “why are you up? it’s super late.” he wanders to the kitchen, his voice sounding particularly far away now. your eyes roll, you thumb your book to keep your place. “i know you only go out at night, so i figured i’d stay up to see if you wanted to do something. i didn’t know you were going out.” upon your glance, you see the clock reads four twenty-seven am, and you groan, rubbing your eyes. this wasn’t the exchange you were hoping for. 
when he re-emerges from the kitchen, your eyes scour his form, noticing the purplish lines that are forming in the tender skin of his under-eyes and the somewhat gaunt appearance of his pale-ish skin. you back straightens, “have you been drinking, jisung?” he’s already walking to your bedroom, but he slows his steps to a halt, turning back to lock eyes with you. “you don’t have to worry about me.”
your eyes trail on his form until he’s disappeared completely into the confines of your bedroom, only then do you sit back though still ever-worried. “of course i do, i’m your wife remember?” 
jisung had fought tooth and nail for a nontraditional vampire wedding. he simply refused. it was bad enough your marriage was arranged with little to no say from the both of you on your choice of spouse, but he put his foot down at the idea of a traditional ceremony. you both wore black, surrounded by loved ones yet absent of friends, and you were bound to each other for the rest of your days. your human family was keen on this celebration of conjoining lives, having an option wasn’t an option - so with doubts you moved forward in the marriage - trying desperately hard to make things work. 
a lot of your marriage to jisung was learning things about him through subtle cues - if the environment was relaxed enough it was easier to get him talking about his personal life or interests, though this had been an occurrence three times in the now two and a half months you’d been married. lack of communication was common, hence you not knowing he was going out earlier. you quit your job, finding one instead that could accommodate to nights so that you could actually see him on your off days and when you returned from work, this schedule you were still adjusting to - and it was killing you. you begrudgingly talked to his parents more in an attempt to understand his needs as a vampire, to which they let you in on the fact that jisung wasn’t the proudest to carry on the vampiric gene. with it came a lot of shame for him. he always ate in private, hunted in private, and stretched out his eating periods as long as possible. he could still consume human food, but nutrition for vampires was solely obtained by drinking blood. and as of late, you reminded him frequently of his need to eat, that it was important to him and his existence, and it was absolutely necessary. 
why’d you do this? you cared for him. you had love in your heart for him. which astounded you that you felt your heart pull at just the sight of him, especially when he looked so sad and was probably starving, because jisung didn’t do much in return. he was hard to talk to, hard to communicate with - you hadn’t a single idea of how he thought of you. did he care for you? did he long to mend your new marriage? it was a guessing game. granted, you absolutely had good days with him. happy times of smiling together, laughing together, going out, exchanging gifts, meeting his friends - but the bad times were killer. and they weighed on your heart something fierce. 
a few days had passed since your limited interaction with jisung - you’d seen him a few times in between then and now; before you went to work and after. maybe you hadn’t looked hard enough then, but now. now when you looked at him, you saw it written all over his face.
his cheeks were more sunken in, his eyes tired and droopy and rings of purple circled each eye. was he slimmer too? his wrists looked thinner than usual; and you found your heart breaking at the sight. he was sitting at his desktop, headphones on, eyes lost to the screen before him - every couple of seconds his mouse would click and you could hear cuts of music playing. 
“jisung,” you called. when he didn’t reply or look up from his screen, you called again - this time louder. “jisung.”
he looks up with raised brows, a hand coming to lift his headphone off his ear - you see the glint of his gold band in the light of his desk lamp. “did you eat today?” you soften your voice though you’re mostly exhausted, and with it came a bit of irritation. he chews on his cheek and looks back to his screen. “yeah.”
“are you lying.” you plant your hands on your hips, you notice his leg is bouncing and he pulls his sweatshirt, the one you gifted him, over his hands. “n-no.” 
you glare at him a moment more before walking out of the study. “i’m fixing you a bag.” his voice calls out behind you, “we’re out.”
you stop yourself just as you’ve made it into the living room, and walk back into the room, you lips tugged to the side as you chew on your cheek. there’s a few options laid out in front of you - and you were stupid to think you wouldn’t do any of them for him. you’re in thought for longer than you’d like to admit, jisung has resorted to toying with his somewhat dried lips as he turns back to his desktop for a moment, his headphones off now as he waits your scolding. 
but scolding doesn’t happen, no. instead, you grab an extra chair from across the room and sit down in front of him, shoving your jacket sleeve up your arm with conviction. he sees how tired you are, and hates that you’ve resorted to this for him - in fact it angers him a bit. 
you bear your bare wrist to him, looking down at your arm then once more at him. 
“drink.” 
he pushes himself out from his desk, “i don’t need your help. i can do this stuff on my own.” his voice isn’t overly angry, in reality he was a little soft for that, especially to you. he just seemed,,, tired. and it kind of killed you. 
“jisung- just do it.” you shake your arm once, he stands up, shoving his hands in his pockets. his thirst drives the red in his eyes to nearly glow - you know he hasn’t much more self-control before he inevitably gives in. he’s starving. he’s craving it. he’s on the brink of ravaging your arm for christ sakes, and you didn’t for a second doubt that power from him. you understood fully well what he was capable of, you just couldn’t see him like this any longer. 
“n-no! i’m not gonna do it. why do you care so much anyway? why are you doing this?” 
your eyes close, head tilted to the side as if he’s just struck a nerve - well, he has. and you haven’t the patience for it any longer. 
“why do i care? why do i care? i’m giving you my arm to drink from - i’m giving you my goddamn life source because i’m your wife and i don’t want you to fucking die.” you stand up, your presence itself has him taking a step back. 
“i’m doing this because i care. and i care because i fucking love you! i try so goddamn hard in this marriage, jisung. because i believe in-in,, in us!” your brows pull together, eyes glossy a bit - the rage in your heart sours into something sadder and you clench your jaw so tight you feel pressure in your teeth to keep from crying. 
he’s struck. totally. he watches you with wide eyes, watches the way your expression strikes anger than melts into something like hurt. the way your brow thaws together and glassiness shines in your eyes. he reaches a hand to you, the one that bears your ring and you take your arm from his grasp when he takes your hand. 
“i-i,,,” you sigh in defeat, still refusing the urge to cry. “i just w-wish you cared about me.” 
when he says your name it feels like it’s the first time he’s ever done so, you pace around yourself for a moment as you quell the urge to cry, running a hand through your hair. you turn, grounded in his voice as he reaches yet again for your hand - which this time you take. “i care about you so much, a-and i’m really sorry that i haven’t been showing that to you.” 
you let him hold your hand as tightly as he wants, “god i feel like such an asshole,” he chuckles, though the brim of his eyes are watery. “i didn’t think you’d want much to do with me to be honest.” you feel the shakiness in his fingers and you grasp onto his hand. “especially because i’m a… y’know…” 
“but i don’t care about that, jisung. you know i don’t. i don’t give a fuck less what you were if it meant we could just be happy.” he nods, swallowing through his tears. “i-i know and that… that’s why i love you.” he admits. 
you shake your head, “don’t just tell me that, jisung-” you look up to him with fierce, watery eyes. “i-i’m not! i would never-” he shakes his head and reaches for your other forearm. “it scares me… a lot i think. that you won’t judge me or hold that against me but that you support me.” in his grasp he brings you a bit closer, his hands now moving from grasping your own to resting on your upper arms and shoulders. “i’m really sorry that i’ve hurt you.. that’s the last thing i wanted to do. i just got really scared and didn’t… know what to do.” he briefly reaches up to smooth your hair with both of his palms before returning them to your upper arms. 
“you know what you can do when you’re scared?” you ask him, wiping your own face before settling your arms around his shoulders, your palms wrapping around the back of his neck. at the feeling of your hands, he sets his hands on your waist. “you come to me.” 
he nods, “you can come to me too, any time you want. i’ll listen to everything you have to say. and i’ll try to be better.” 
you smile, smoothing your hands down his shoulders. “now,” your fingers dig into the sleeve of your jacket, pulling it up and over your wrist. “please drink. i see how hungry you are, and it’s not good not to. you have to take care of yourself.” the thumb of your opposite hand smooths the soft skin beneath his eye, his brows press together and he softly frowns. 
his mouth waters at the sight of your skin, glowing and pulsating with a pulse that pumps your blood just beneath your skin. he parts his lips, and for a second you see the sight of his wet fangs just below his top lip. “it’s okay, i know you can stop - i don’t want you to be hungry.” 
he gets comfortable, sitting on the surface of your shared bed in the room just next to his study - his hands cradle your wrist, turning the soft flesh over to bare itself to his awaiting teeth. his eyes swim with frenzy, and per your comfort again, he leans forward and sinks his teeth into your skin. your face scrunches up at the feeling of your skin giving way to his fangs, but the feeling of his lips around the wound soothe the ache. soon he’s finished, wiping his mouth with his hand before smoothing his tongue over the wound. “my saliva will heal it over night, don’t worry.” 
“it’s okay. how are you feeling? any better?” he tugs you onto the surface of the bed, his gentle fingers grabbing a nearby bandage to delicately wrap around the bite wound. the sun was beginning to rise now, and you were tired beyond belief. “i do. thank you so much.” he smooths your hair from your head, planting a kiss to your forehead. 
“i really meant it when i said i was sorry and that i was going to try harder. i can’t imagine how stupid i looked to you, god,” he buries his face in your shoulder, shaking his head as you chuckled. “it’s okay. i didn’t mean to blow up that hard - i just… it all kept building up and i really wanted to talk to you but it never felt right.” your hand comes to rest on his head as he burrows further into you, you can imagine the burn of his cheeks and smile to yourself at the thought. 
“well, if we’re going to be married. these are things we have to talk about i guess.” his skin is cool to the touch, you shiver at the feeling. “we can talk about whatever you want too though. like what your favorite color is or why your favorite movie is your favorite movie.” 
“i like pink a lot.” he says, his cheek pressed into the pillow next to you. “why is that?” you wonder. 
“it looks best on you.” 
𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓲𝔁. ↴
oh he was beautiful. maybe not even that; maybe something greater. 
you admired him still but frequently lost yourself to the floaty thoughts in your brain - thinking fondly back to your wedding day. he was dressed in opalescent whites of different shades, the hems of his attire glittered in the evening sun - cuts of sunlight beaming fractals down through the trees to paint his face something magnificent. and his wings. your feet carried you along the forest floor, but your eyes were blown into a sweet expression you couldn’t fight. they were transparent if not for their shining and glittering design - fine lines of sunlight itself swirled and cut into fine designs on his wings - you were starstruck in his gaze. you cradled your bouquet, and though it was now your third time meeting felix in person, his worried and saddened expression turned into something peaceful when you looked at him. despite your arguments in efforts to call off your betrothal, now when facing him, you strangely felt as if everything would just work out. he exuded a kind of sweet energy, even just his smile would bring you happiness. you interlock your hands and despite the circumstance, you can’t help but smile soft while reciting your vows, your practiced eye contact now utterly natural and right. 
you’d been married to lee felix for two months and ten days - and in those days since accepting your marriage, you’d seen him only a handful of times. well, more than that, honestly, but it was easy to blur the days and times you saw him. it really only felt like you’d had a few conversations with him or shared any moments of true transparency or emotional value. he was dedicated to his job, he was. he protected the forest alongside a large force of fae people’s. regulations in the forest were strict - strong. and he took his job very seriously. he spent nearly every waking moment tangled in the trees, tending to her grasses, or playing with the forest creatures to keep the forest happy and healthy, and while you were more than proud of him of his job and his dedication, your marriage was beginning to weigh heavy on your heart. he was beginning to weigh heavy on your heart. 
your job was to nurse saplings and hybrids, you were gone from your home for severely shorter hours than felix was - and while you loved your job all the same as he did his own, you couldn’t help the want for a loving marriage despite the circumstances of it being arranged. you saw him frequently laughing in the trees and vines alongside his colleagues, happily caring for the creatures of the forest with careful and loving hands, and couldn’t help but hope that one day you’d be the one making him smile, making him laugh, and be the fairy behind his loving touch. your heart swells at the very thought - ugh what a lovey he was. pure goodness you assumed. not a bad bone in his body. you just wanted him for yourself, selfishly. 
how could your heart not blossom with feeling at the opportunity to be married to him? he was,,, he was so much. words couldn’t describe the ache of affection you yearned from him. the way he lived. it was profound in and of itself. 
your arms cradle the sleeping sapling of a mother willow, tender palms wrapped around the baby as they slept soundly. your mind snaps back to reality, your eyes fluttering to the small angel in your arms, and you smile at the sight. “precious.” you admire, putting them back into their warm pot of soil to sleep until the next morning. evening was approaching, it was time for you to leave for the day. you float to your bag, your wings carrying you seamlessly to your things as you gather them and say goodbye to your fellow caretakers, returning home to your high tree top bungalow. your home was comfortably secluded near the top of the tree canopy, neighbors somewhat closeby to still have the comfort of community but to also have a nice peaceful feeling of seclusion in your own home. the lights wrapping around your home had been dimmed, you frown at the sight, concluding felix must not be home. 
as you float to the door, softly landing on your feet, you push it open and find the lights are off and evening darkness begins to swallow your home. you sigh softly, pulling your leaf tote off your shoulder to hang it by the door. you pull clips from your hair and pad to your bedroom with your eyes focused comfortably at the floor, thinking no one was home. 
that is until you enter your bedroom to see felix standing in the open space just before your bed, lifting his button-down from his head to peak into your closet for night clothes. “oh-” you jump, clutching your chest, face warming at the sight of his bare skin on display. “you scared me, sorry.” his eyes widen for only a moment before he relaxes into a smile, “oh sorry for scaring you, i should’ve left a note for you. i came home early today.” you beam gently, pulling your earrings out to leave your jewelry in a box at your vanity. “it’s okay! i’m glad you’re home. how was today?” you turn to look at him as he speaks. 
he takes a sleep shirt from a hanger and begins slipping it on. “ah, the watering hole at the east side of the forest edge began growing fungus - so we had the court mages come down to get rid of it. other than that, it was surprisingly uneventful.” his face contorts into a kind of grimace as he struggles to fit his wings through the back of his shirt - trying desperately hard on his own to flutter them through the back only to get caught. you stand, moving to help him as your vision falls to his back - and you stand behind him to gently tug his wings through the back. “there you go, better?” you ponder with a soft worrisome look, rounding him to get a better look. he smiles and nods, “much, thank you.” 
you take a few steps back to sit at the edge of your shared bed, once again getting lost in your head as you stare at his wings. so pretty. moonlight begins to filter in through your bedroom windows and they almost seem to glow. “what’s wrong?” he asks, catching you off guard in your staring match. he’s left his shirt opens as he looks at you, his brow scrunched. “o-oh! nothing! sorry- your wings are just,, really pretty.” you chuckle, hoping to play off any tension or awkwardness. his face flushes a true shade of pink and his gaze falls to the floor, “thank you.” his low voice in gentle in the quiet. 
“but,,” he turns back, now stepping closer to you at a slower pace before he sits down in front of you. his gaze is so concerned, and he speaks as though what he has to say is hard. you match his expression, head tilting only a degree or so. “you always kind of have this expression like you’re thinking,, or that you’re getting lost in your head. do you want to talk about it?” 
your cheeks flush at his notice and you look down to your hands now folded over your lap. if now was ever the time to bring up issues than you’d have to do it. were you going to drag this process on forever? you hoped not. now was the chance.
“you’re… you’re so wonderful at what you do.” you smile again, because you can’t help but give in around felix, but it’s sadder - and he worries about what’s to come despite your compliment. “you’re so dedicated. and i love seeing you smile and laugh with everything you do. with your colleagues, when you’re caring for the creatures in the forest, or when you’re caring for the plants and trees,” you pause. your lips part because you know what to say, you know exactly what to say because it’s been the only thing you think about during the day. and you simply must say it now or else you’d dig yourself into a hiding hole and never bring it up again. “but i wish,, you cared for me in the way you cared for you job. in the way you care for the forest.” your thumb circles the band on your ring finger absentmindedly. it’s become second nature. when you look down to your hand, and see the band on your finger your eyes begin to water. oh not now, please, i was doing do good. 
“i’ve been meaning to talk to you about this, actually.” he starts. you lift your watery eyes and his expression melts, his hand coming up to wipe your tears but he stops himself in fear of crossing a line when really that’s all you wanted in the moment. “i..” he swallows and his eyes get lost in focusing on nowhere in particular in the room and that’s when you notice it. 
his thumb is playing with his wedding band, his nail tracing the metal and fumbling with it just as you did without noticing. 
your lips pull to the side as you try to keep them from trembling. “i wanted to talk to you about how we can become closer. how we can work better as a unit and build our relationship-” when the tears track down your cheeks and you look up at him, he disregards his fear and reaches out shamelessly - his pal meeting your cheek as his thumb swipes wetness from your eyes. you lean into his touch, appreciative of his warmth until it leaves you. his own eyes are a bit watery, but out of shame and guilt. “i feel,, so guilty. for making you feel that way. and i d-don’t ever want to make you feel like that again because i do care for you.” when he looks back up at you, you reach for his hand and rub his band with your thumb. “i care for you a lot.” he chuckles sadly. 
“i care for you too. and i want this to work out.” you reason, now holding his left hand with both of yours. he goes quiet for a second as he dips his head and wipes his face. at the sight your heart swells and you feel a smile over take your face. “y’know on our wedding day, i thought, ‘wow i must be the luckiest person ever to be marrying the prettiest fairy in the forest.’” you chuckle, wiping your face until he laughs through his tears. “don’t say that, i’ll cry more!” you chuckle with him and this time you wipe his face with your thumbs when he can’t get past the guilt. 
“i p-promise i’ll make it up to you. i’ll show you i care for you and that i can be a husband you deserve.” his gaze lifts with your hand as you thumb over his wet freckles, and he now grabs your hands sacredly. 
“let’s work together, yeah?” you look over his face with a more fond expression, watching every small move he makes to wipe his face and try desperately hard to keep the tears off his flustered freckled cheeks. he nods, fiercely. this was a change you already felt oncoming, and as you settled into resting for the night, you laid beside your husband - hands kept to yourself for now as shyness seemed to settle between both of your bodies. 
“i know i’ve been distant and consumed in work,, but i’ve been watching you at your job recently.” his nimble fingers pick at the surface of his pillow, pulling a stray thread from it’s place. your brows raise, a soft look of surprise graces your features as you listen. “oh?” he immediately cuts in, “not like that! i just.. wanted to see you at work but.. i didn’t know how to.. reach out.” his gaze is focused elsewhere. 
“you can come visit me at work anytime. i think you’d be excellent with the sapling babies - they’d love you.” your teeth show in a genuine smile and he can’t help but think how contagious. 
“i couldn’t really think much, except for how stunning you looked doing it.” 
you push your face into your pillow, “you can’t say things like that,, i’ll blush.” your hands cover your face, and much to your surprise, he grasps them to pull them from your red cheeks, looking at you solemnly. “it’s true. the sun was hitting you just right and you looked so pretty,, so happy.” 
he’s holding your hands again, the current if shyness feels as though he’s melted it away, and you reach out to brush a stray hair from his face, “i am happiest when with them, they bring me a lot of peace.” he beams, his wings flutter a bit behind him on the bed. 
“would you want to raise one, one day?” his eyes are wide with the question, as if a great amount of hope rests on his shoulders. 
“with you? absolutely.” 
𝓼𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓶𝓲𝓷. ↴
“there won’t be a wedding.” 
you looked up from your coffee, both of your hands wrapped around it’s now cooling porcelain. your heart drops to the lowest part of your stomach at the news, hands steadying for a better grip on your mug. every dream, every hope, all the excitement of the young you, hoping for a beautiful wedding shared with the person you loved, instantly came crashing down in a fury. you swallow, feeling the eternal dread creeping on - up your back and over your shoulders. 
“can i ask why?” you look up to your future husband, finding a kind of indifference on his face, that made your heart sink further. 
“my family has a last minute trip planned for the weekend we originally scheduled - we talked to your family and decided to cancel it.” 
“okay.” 
“i’ll make it up to you.”
for the sake of a legitimate marriage, you did stand before each other and repeat vows of no particular meaning to you - and held his hand as you walked back down the aisle in a white sundress. you slept in the same bed but didn’t know the man beside you, you said goodbye to him for his business trips but mostly thoughts of leaving consumed you while he was away (even though your family would have your head for it) you ate beside him but didn’t speak - your outlook on your marriage was bleak to say the least. 
your own job consumed you of course, the marriage was for business anyway. but you took severely less trips than seungmin did - and mostly worked from home in your office, conducting meetings, discussing sales goals and the like. 
and now, at your age, you came to realize something. that your life wasn’t lived for what you wanted to do or how you wanted to live, but instead was lived out by the expectation of how you were supposed to. who were you even really? and you didn’t have the best example - your parent’s marriage was arranged. and though your mom persevered in saying they were happy, you could easily read between the lines to see they were anything but. 
seungmin had his good moments. 
he was great at his job, very dedicated. he periodically checked in on you but it felt half-hearted. there were a few times he’d sent flowers to the house while he was away. a lot of empty promises on his part though, saying he would look forward to doing something fun when he returned home, only for his time to be taken again.  you’d bury yourself in your work if that was the only thing you could do - eyes filtering over the now dying roses on your desk. 
he was gone now on another business trip, he had been now for three days. in truth, you missed him. or maybe you missed the idea of him. the idea of what he could be to you, and what you could be together. it all felt very misty in your brain, a lot of thoughts you couldn’t dwell on for long periods of time as they stopped making sense. you’d try to sort through your feelings, categorize your thoughts, to better understand yourself - but most attempts remained fruitless. your marriage to seungmin was an enigma - with most of your free time spent alone, all you had to do was think of him. it was strange to admit you missed and longed for a man you feel like you don’t know, but your nights were spent planted on your couch, wondering when he’d return.
your days spent in your new home brought a wave of heaviness you haven’t looked in the eye in years. it was dreadful. every waking moment you fought to stay motivated with your job, but a large part of you hadn’t a single care. not for anything. after work, you’d crawl back into bed and sleep until waking, rotting away in your home. 
until seungmin came home. 
when he unlocked the door and came in with a few small bags by his side, you didn’t raise your head from your pillow, or dare to even wipe your cheeks of the tears cascading down your face - you didn’t care. you didn’t care if he saw, you didn’t care if he had something to say. you only felt the weight. 
he comes into the bedroom, and upon looking at you curled up in your shared bed, wetness glistening on your cheeks, his brows furrow. “what’s wrong?”
you shake your head, mumbling something that sounded like “it’s nothing.” 
he wasn’t taking that as an answer, not with the way his voice drew out and the way he came to sit on his side of the bed, his hands resting on his thighs. “what’s wrong?” he asks, this time a little softer; even just the way his voice sounded made you want to cry. 
you roll to your back, eyes focused nowhere in particular as you muster up something to say. your tears fall into your hairline now, for a moment you feel as though this might be worse than dying. “should we separate?” 
“like divorce? no, no we shouldn’t. what’s,, what’s going on?” he almost wants to reach out and touch you but he keeps his hands to himself for now. the news hits him with a kind of weight he wasn’t expecting; he stumbles over the words that first come to his brain, his composure slowly melting away. 
“you’re never here, seungmin.” your head lulls to the side to look at him. “i care about you a lot. i just wished you felt the same.” your voice trembles on the breath of a whisper, soon your eyes are focused elsewhere yet again - and your lips shake a bit. 
he grasps your hands, and pulls your weight up until you’re resting in his arms. his hold is light - as if he were afraid to touch you but he does anyway. your heart explodes - he holds you because he understands it’s what you need. and you realize, this is the first time he’s ever held you, and you hope to whatever greater source there is in the world, that it isn’t the last. 
“i’m sorry.” he pats your back with a gentle hand, and he feels your arms circle him lightly. “i do care for you.” 
you sit in his hold comfortably, listening to him as he periodically speaks. “i’m sorry i’m never home. the business has kept me really busy, and, to be honest, i didn’t know what to do.” 
you understand more now than ever that, it’s hard for him to speak his emotions. and while it might be awkward, it meant so much more that he was trying. his long sleeve shirt is soft against your palms, you flatten them more, pressing closer to him a bit - hoping it doesn’t make him uncomfortable, but rather it urges him to speak more on his feelings. 
“i assumed you’d be unhappy, and honestly, i wouldn’t blame you. i wanted to try to make things work.. i just didn’t know how.” 
that was, perhaps, the most words you’d heard from him - and you were beyond happy with his honesty. 
“i mean, it wasn’t like our marriage was ideal but i too want to make it work. i believe we can.”
when your bodies separate, and seungmin fumbles with his fingers that peak just past the sleeves of his shirt, you’re both swallowed in a kind of silence, one you wouldn’t label, but one that was loud. “what,, what do you want me to do? to be better?” he asks quietly. 
“just talk to me.”
“talk to you? what do you want to talk about?”
“anything.”
for the next few hours, as the moon hung high in the night sky, you sat in your bed and talked. like people did. like married people did. 
“when i was 14 i got a bone spur in my ankle from working at an amusement park.” you chuckled, seungmin laughs beside you as well. “how’d you do that?” 
“i jumped down onto a platform and i didn’t bend my knees when i landed so,” you mesh your fingers together, “crunch. y’know?” his expression changes to a grimace of sorts, “i broke my elbow playing baseball as a kid.” 
“you played baseball?” 
“i did.”
𝓳𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓲𝓷.↴
“before you are five people, you must choose a significant other to marry.” were the words spoken to jeongin - words he was expecting to hear, dreaded ones - evil even in prospect. he was raised for this moment, this was one of many he must complete in his family’s line of work. his choices were limited, but this one seemed impossible. his steps were counted, he rolls through his foot, keeps a sharp gaze so his intentions aren’t questioned, not in front of his father, and he looks between the wide-eyed looks that stare at him with hope. not hope of being chosen, no quite the opposite. 
there was only really one option -
you. 
you were beautiful, maybe not even that but something he couldn’t label or put a finger on. it stole breath from his lungs as he raised his hand without a second thought, pointing to your slightly hunched composure. 
“you.” 
it was the first words he ever spoke to you - and you wanted nothing more in that moment for them to be the last. but you knew hope cost very little in your new life. you were unsure of the price over your head for marriage to the son of the leader of the biggest crime ring in the area, but you hoped it hurt his pockets if anything. you were to be married to jeongin now, and that was your life’s purpose. you would part from your family, and move into a house suitable for newly weds, you’d forget everything you loved, everyone you loved, if it meant he was happy. 
you were wedded in a small ceremony, only surrounded by your parents and other members of the crime syndicate. your father handed you off your arm to the man that was soon to be your husband, and you took his hands with a grip too easy to slip. he grasps your hands, soon loosening his hold upon feeling your reluctance in your hands. but it isn’t reluctance in just your physical touch with him - but it’s the reluctance in your eyes. the way light doesn’t shine in them or sparkle, and you speak your vows with such shame it kills him. 
so he vowed to stay away. if it made you happy. 
but you weren’t happy. not really. 
was he? he didn’t know. 
but even from the start, he felt your sadness when you spoke to him, the light still hadn’t returned to your pretty face, well. there was one thing that made the sparkle gleam in your expression, 
painting. 
fuck you looked beautiful when you painted. lost in the color - the washes, forgetting your hands were smeared and wet and that your cuticles were crackling with paints to no wits end but you continued, and you would persevere. you’d surround yourself with happiness and feeling only translated and spoken through the mouthpiece of a canvas, and he could sit and watch you forever, just admiring the way you lost yourself in something for a moment that wasn’t your marriage. 
“what would make you happier?” he’d asked one day. 
you raised your gaze up from the marble of the extending bar of the kitchen counter, your cheek between your teeth. it was a question you weren’t ready for, one that you thought he’d never ask. “i’d like to paint more.” you answered, almost smiling a bit through the dark lines beneath your eyes. 
in truth, you could see the good in jeongin. the reluctance to follow in his father’s footsteps, the boyish, happy energy he so little exuded that you only wished to see more of. yes. in truth, jeongin was beautiful. yet he chose to show it so little. you wonder if it was fear, trauma even - but he seemed so far away, so distant. 
“okay.” it was simple. and a week later, he showed you to one of the spare bedrooms in your home - canvas’ covered the walls and a desk and stool stood in the middle of the room, an array of different paints grouped in boxes and a great big container of brushes sat on it’s surface. you could’ve cried at the sight, but instead thanked him, a number of times, and began on your next piece. 
and after that, he was gone again. all hidden behind stern expressions, his suits and ties and whispers of jobs and missions. you’d lost him again, and damn it all you were tired.
you’d been defeated since you said yes to him, no you’d been tired since you’d found out you were to be married to a stranger. and now, when you felt like things were going somewhere, he was just,, gone. you were sick, sick of feeling this way. feeling like your life had no other meaning than to be strangers, sick of him not talking or trying, just sick. 
so you pushed a blade into your first canvas. you cut through the paint, the flesh of it, cut through the hours, the focus, the mess ups and successes, and you kept going. you dragged the blade through the wooden circumference and threw it to the ground with your hair flying behind you. 
jeongin came in a moment later to hear the commotion - finding a few of your paintings destroyed, tears running down your cheeks, and your form huddled in the corner of the room with your knees pulled to your chest. you were hysterical - like your filter had diminished and your true thoughts were the only thing capable of leaving your lips. 
“i-i-! i-i just wished you cared-!” you yelled. 
he grabs your face, holding steady in both of his hands. 
and suddenly, the only thing you see is him. 
and he was there. there. with his brows pressed together, and his thumbs swiping over your cheeks soft. he was there. 
“i’m here- i’m here.” his voice steadies your heart, his presence centers your attention on him and him alone - and despite the pure rage you felt at him - he was the only person you had. and the only one you wanted. 
your breathing slows, as do your tears, and you lower your hands, letting them rest on his forearms. “you’re,, here.” you repeat as if he’d disappear. 
he nods, his thumbs smoothing over your cheeks. “that’s right. i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere, i promise.” he assures. 
he was numbly grounding - he pulled you out of your own head so quick you saw stars and felt whiplash. and now, in steadiness, you grasp his hands from your face and hold onto him tight. “b-but,, why aren’t you ever really here? why don’t you care-” you hiccup.
“because i don’t know how to be.” 
you look at him with an expression only capable of melting, and your face contorts sadly again and he tries. “j-just don’t leave. just try, please? i want this to work because it kills me.”
“i won’t leave. i won’t. and i do care. i really do, so much. i’m sorry.”
though you feel like strangers, and he still feels so far away, you stretch your arms outward and you grasp onto his waist - and in a way you weren’t expecting, he wraps his arms around you, and holds you like he’s known you for years. and maybe in some kind of way, he did. 
“i believe you but just.. can we talk? can we do fun things married people do? like go on dates and watch stupid movies?” your tears fall gently now, rounding the flesh of your cheeks in a way he thinks is so pretty, so unlike how he understood you before. but now, when you look at him, you feel like you see a man you know. one you can trust.
he nods, vigorously as he pulls you from his arms. “i want that, and i’ll try okay? i promise,” his hands grasp your own, “i promise i care. i really do.” 
you nod, now too consumed with teas to speak again, and instead you push your face into your hands and sit back on your legs between his own. he takes a moment to look around the room, finding art even in your destruction. 
“your paintings,” he frowns, standing. he picks one up, stretching his arms out to look at it. his expression is sad, genuinely sad, and it kind of surprises you to see that. 
“it’s okay.”
he looks to his right to see you, swallowed in a tainted sweatshirt, and he smiles, setting it against the wall in front of him. 
“let’s make new ones.” 
Tumblr media
i have no concept on whether these are good or not, i've been working a lot and i'm actually sick rn but persevered through seungmin's and jeongin's. lmk what y'all think.
2K notes · View notes
Text
Mob!Natasha x daughter!reader headcannons
masterlist
a/n: I figured writing some headcanons was a bit less pressuring, and I enjoyed this so much! I’ll definitely be writing more headcanons in the future :)
You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work
 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|
Mob!Natasha who found you when you were just a baby. She heard crying coming out of the closet after she had just killed her target. Turns out, he had already found his next victim, you. Luckily, Natasha was just in time to save you from that horrible life and raised you herself
Mob!Natasha who raised you in the safety of her Russian home. Protected, hidden, and far away from the dangers of the world
Mob!Natasha who only allowed Melina, Alexei, and Yelena to see and know about you the first 5 years of your life
Mob!Natasha who started training you for active combat the moment you could stand, wanting you to be able to protect yourself, should you ever end up being mixed into one of her ‘jobs’
Mob!Natasha who loves you more than anything in the world, getting you whatever you want whenever you want it, yet still making sure you’re not becoming a spoiled brat
Mob!Natasha who puts her trusted bodyguard, Bucky Barnes, on any and every outing you go on. You leave the house for a walk? You better count on the fact that Bucky is coming. You want to go shopping? Don’t worry, Bucky will simply come to help you carry your bags. You want to have dinner with someone? Bucky will simply sit a few tables away from you, giving you privacy yet keeping a close eye on you
Mob!Natasha who is terrified when your existence becomes known after you and her are spotted going for a little shopping trip. She will upgrade her security everywhere, putting multiple bodyguards by your side every time you leave the house. Of course, she still trusts that Bucky is the best at keeping you safe, but just to be sure, you get a few more of her men
Mob!Natasha who sometimes allows you to sit in on her meetings, letting you sit next to her, or on the ground, whichever you prefer. It’s not like any of the people she is meeting with can say anything. That is if they want to keep their lives of course. Sometimes, if you forgot to bring something she will slide you her notepad for you to doodle on, or she’ll just stop the entire meeting and order one of her men to fetch you whatever you wish. She gets to decided how her meetings go, of course
Mob!Natasha who knows you adore her henchwomen more than anything. Your personal favourite is Natasha’s assistant, Maria. You know her and your mom have some more going on. You are not blind to the lingering touches and the sneaky looks they send each other. Of course, you are a big fan of Carol. She is just so cool and nice to you, even though she can kill someone with basically a glare. To you, she is the sweetest human on the planet
Mob!Natasha who knows you adore your aunt Yelena more than anyone on the planet. Because of that, she makes sure Yelena gets the opportunity to visit more than enough. Everytime Natasha has to leave for a slightly bigger ‘job’ she simply calls Yelena to keep you company. Natasha knows you don’t need a babysitter anymore, but she likes the idea of you not having to be lonely. Besides, it is much safer for you to be accompanied by your aunt Yelena
Mob!Natasha who knows how much you adore playing board and cards games, so she told her people to never deny you a game, were you to ask. Luckily, you mostly gravitate towards Carol and her girlfriend Valkyrie, and who were they to deny you a game? They loved your company, and they loved playing your card games with you
Mob!Natasha who, when you start dating someone, runs thousands of background checks, does hundreds of checkups throughout the day, and makes sure to give whoever you decided to date a little talk, letting them know exactly what’s waiting for them were they ever to hurt you
Mob!Natasha who had the best private tutors coming to your home to teach you everything you needed to know, giving you the highest level of eduction you’d ever need
Mob!Natasha who knows that you are financially set for life, but who still allows you to go to college if you would ever want to. Of course it would be an expensive, high security private school, but still
Mob!Natasha who takes you on the multiple holiday trips during the year. You want to go to Spain? Pack your bag because Natasha will have planned a trip next week. Obviously you both will simply take her private jet, but she needs a week to book some fancy holiday home for you two to stay at
Mob!Natasha who, despite her fortune, often books small, low budget holiday trips. Everyone knows those small holiday homes are the best and the cosiest. What kind of mother would Natasha be if she didn’t give you that experience?
Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @hor1zond1ar1es @lorsstar1st @superlegend216
417 notes · View notes
asilentsongbird · 8 months
Text
For you, I think I would learn how to love
For my lovely anon who asked for husband Neuvillette, I bring you a whole fic. This man has me in a chokehold and I need everyone to know how much I love him.
Pairing: Neuvillette x fem! Reader Word Count: ~7k
Summary: Tired of waiting for you to find a husband, your parents find one for you. One who happens to be the Chief Justice of Fontaine. A new city, a new life, a new husband. So much new, and you could only hope, deep in your heart, that you would find happiness and love in Fontaine.
Tumblr media
The first time you meet him, it's rather formal.
It's not as though you have much of an option. Though you certainly couldn't say you expected when you woke up to be told that your parents had found a husband for you, and that you'd be married in a week.
They had been pushing marriage lately, saying you were the right age, but the thought had been far from your mind. You thought you still had time, and the next thing you knew, you were being brought to Fontaine.
It's certainly different from Liyue. The hills and mountains are different from the Stone Forrest. The air feels different, there's water heavy in it.
You wait, in an ornate room that feels much too fancy. You've been left alone for a brief moment, the most your parents have allowed since you were told the news.
Part of you wonders if you could escape if you jumped out the window. A quick glance told you that it was much too high to entertain that idea. You'd end up breaking a leg before you got out of this marriage.
The door opens. A man appears, with long white hair with blue streaks in it. Simply from his appearance, you can tell that this is someone important. Your spine straightens as sharp eyes land on you, zeroing in on you.
You felt small, for a moment. As though he was judging you for simply existing in a space you'd rather not be in. Though your parents didn't care if you had plans or wished to find a husband on your own.
The man doesn't say anything. He closes the door behind him with a click, and makes his way over to you. Despite the desire to shrink back, you stand your ground, until he finally stands before you.
Up close you can see more details. He towers over you in height, but you suppose most people would feel short compared to him. His eyes capture your attention the most, the pupils such a strange shape, but gorgeous nevertheless.
"I apologize for leaving you waiting," he starts, almost looking as lost as you on how to start.
You wave your hands frantically in front of you. "It's fine! I didn't expect anyone to come in. I was told I would be meeting-"
Saying future husband felt much too strange. The man in front of you notices your pause, and arches a single silver brow. You frantically try to remember the name of the man who is meant to be your fiance.
"Ah, sorry, I was meant to meet a Mister Neuvillette?" your voice stumbles awkwardly over the new word, still struggling with the accent.
On the trip to Fontaine, your parents had tried to give you lessons on the language, as though you would become fluent in the few hours it took to travel.
The man blinks. And then he blinks again, as though he's trying to figure out what you just said.
Apparently the lessons hadn't worked.
"Sorry, my accent needs work," you apologize. "I hear he's the Chief Justice?"
The man nods, slowly. "That is correct."
You hum, non-committal, waiting to see if your company decides to keep the conversation going. When he doesn't, you find yourself unable to think of words.
Well, this felt awkward. And from the way the man still seemed at a loss for words, he also felt the same.
The tension could almost cut a knife.
He clears his throat after a moment, the sound almost makes you jump.
"Yes, well..." he pauses, gesturing towards the couch. "I am sure monsieur Neuvillette will be here soon."
You take a seat near him. Not close enough to be inappropriate, but close enough that it would be clear that you were talking.  Maybe "monsieur Neuvillette" will see the two of you and decide that this marriage wasn't something he wanted a part of.
"Congratulations on your engagement," your new friend tells you after a moment. You give him a tight lipped smile.
"Thanks."
Once again, silence descends over you two. You fidget with your skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles from travel. Hopefully, it wasn't something your new husband would be upset about.
At least the silence didn't feel as oppressive this time. You let yourself relax, taking a deep, steadying breath.
"Can I ask you something?"
The man beside you nods. You still haven't gotten his name yet, you realize. You'd have to ask later, after some other questions. Who knows when your parents and future husband will be coming.
"Um...how is Neuvillette?" you tentatively ask, to which you only receive a rather blank, if not curious look.
You suppose you'll have to be more direct. Though it almost pains you.
But at least, if he's not kind, you would like a warning. Some way to prepare yourself for what the rest of your life is going to be like. Some women, they don't even get that. They were woken up on the day of their wedding, and the rest of their lives was at the whims of their husbands.
You steel yourself, and fully turn your attention to your friend.
"Is he kind?"
Something in him softens at that. He looks at you with an emotion that you can't recognize in that moment. Pity, maybe?
He opens his mouth, but before you can get your answer, the door opens.
Your parents lean in for a moment, see you sitting on the couch, talking to a stranger, but strangely have nothing bad to say about that. In fact, they look delighted.
"Are you two getting along well?" your mother asks you, somewhat reminding you of a cat just having caught a bird.
The satisfaction on her face made you uneasy, like there was a secret you were missing.
"Fine, thank you," your friend replied for you when you couldn't manage words. "Your daughter is very polite."
Your parents beam at that. The uneasy feeling in your stomach gets worse.
"Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette."
Somehow, it hadn't dawned on you. Your stomach feels like it falls into the floor, but Neuvillette doesn't seem to have any other reaction, looking at your parents. They don't even wither under his stare.
You never wanted to shrink into the floor more. You had just asked your future husband about himself. And more than that, you asked him if he was kind.
Your parents talk with Neuvillette, allowing you a moment to feel invisible and wallow in your self-pity and embarrassment.
At least, until you feel a small tug on the sleeve of your blouse.
It's one of the melusines, you had found them to be very cute upon first seeing them. Your parents hadn't explained much about them, so you found yourself blinking down at the small melusine.
"He is," she says to you, nodding.
You tilt your head to the side. Briefly, you feel eyes on you, but when you look at your parents, they're still talking to Neuvillette, and taking his attention.
"He's what?"
She hands you a long ribbon. It's a deep, ocean blue, the same color that Neuvillette is wearing.
"He is kind," she explains, patiently, as though you were a child. "I heard you ask."
Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, especially as she climbed up next to you, weaving the ribbon through your hair, and both your parents and Neuvillette turned to stare.
"Y/N, that is very rude to ask," your mother scolds, because that is the lot of women in life, only to worry about when men think of you and what might make you undesirable. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.
"Nonsense, it is a very reasonable question to ask. Why wouldn't someone want to know who they're marrying?" Neuvillette cuts in, before your mother can scold you any more.
Your parents fall silent, nodding their heads in agreement as though they hadn't been about to lecture you like a child. You would have laughed if it wasn't for the Melusine finishing with your hair.
"There," she says, with her self imposed job done. "Will you be having a wedding?"
You weren't sure your heart could take any more surprises today. Your cheeks hadn't even lost their blush from the first moment, at this point you didn't think they'd ever go back to their normal color.
"We'll have to see," you murmur, because you weren't completely sure yourself.
She nods, taking in your word and opinion as though it was law. Neuvillette didn't contradict you either, but did finally turn back to your parents.
You don't get too much of a chance to participate in most of the conversation. The Melusine, Sedene, as you learned the name of, asks you more questions that keep you occupied.
It's a welcome distraction. It's better than awkwardly listening to a conversation about your future where at least two of the three people here wouldn't even care for your input.
The jury was still out on Neuvillette.
Eventually though, it grew late, late enough that Sedene was sleeping with her head on your lap. It seemed that finally the other three were tired of negotiating over your life.
Before you knew it, you looked up from your lap just in time to see Neuvillette leave without even a goodbye, the door clicking behind him. Your parents look much too pleased with themselves, which you somehow didn't think was possible.
"I told you, the match would be a good one," your mother tells your father, pride seeping into her voice.
You're not so sure. You can't be sure. At least not yet.
"Yes," your father agrees, with the same fond voice he always had when he didn't want to argue with your mother, and it's easier just to agree.
It seems, just like the foundation of Liyue, that your future is set in stone.
You hope Fontaine will be kind to you.
-x-x-x-x-
You do not have a wedding.
It's actually fine with you. More than fine, really. Apparently as Chief Justice of Fontaine, Neuvillette is well liked and popular. The amount of people you'd have to invite to the wedding would be too many for you.
So you simply don't. You sign a document and in the eyes of the law, and of Neuvillette, that is enough.
Though a part of you aches that you will never have the traditional Liyuen wedding you dreamed of as a child. But you suppose that dreams of childhood should stay there.
You move into Neuvillette's home. Fontaine comes as a culture shock, almost.
The amount of times you get absolutely lost in this fish-bowl of a city manages to astound even you.
It's not your fault, really. Liyue Harbor is easy to navigate, warm and welcoming. In Fontaine, the streets all somehow manage to look the same, though the shops sell things you never even thought of. At some point, you're pretty sure you even see a woman standing outside of a building with a mechanical bird.
You end up seeing other Melusines more than your new husband. You don't really blame him for this, his job is important and needed, so each day he bids you a single "good morning" along with a look you couldn't decipher, as he heads to the Opera House.
That's a whole other thing about Fontaine that you still haven't investigated.
It's not as though you're upset that you don't see Neuvillette often. But he is one of the few people that you know here, and it doesn't take long for you to be lonely in the new city, without any of your friends.
Though you find the Meluine's to be kind. They help you when you get lost, and press small gifts into your palms as they take your hands to lead you around.
They tell you to tell Neuvillette to take some time off work. To spend some time with you. You nod and agree that you'll tell him the next time you see him.
But when the man quickly leaves in the morning and doesn't return until late, you never really get a chance to.
If you didn't know any better, you would have thought he'd been avoiding you.
It's like that for almost a month. He says good morning, disappears, and you wander the city to familiarize yourself with it. He never comes home until the sun has almost set, and night is almost there, while you wander until the rain finally starts for the day.
You asked the Melusine's about it once, commenting that there wasn't so much rain in Liyue. They tell you of the hydro dragon and the tears it cries. You hope that someday you will get to meet this dragon and see what makes them so sad.
At least, it stays like that until it doesn't, as most things tend to do.
You were lost, which wasn't too much of a surprise, but unlike the times before, there were no Melusine's to bring you back home or to a place you knew. The rain had started earlier today, earlier than anyone seemed to expect, and before you knew it, you were huddled in an alley, your clothing absolutely soaked and shivers running down your spine from the wet and the cold.
You missed Liyue. You missed your friends, your parents, you missed the smells and sounds of the harbor. Tears burned in your eyes and mixed with the rain on your cheeks.
Standing there simply isn't going to fix things though, so you eventually left your small, but dry, protection, and decided to finally figure out this city.
Your confidence fades the longer you walk around.
It takes almost two hours of wandering around in the rain until you finally recognize something. Not the path home, but to the first place you ever meet Neuvillette, despite not knowing at the time.
You push open the door. It's late, though that doesn't seem to mean the place is devoid of life. Wrapping shaking arms around yourself, you spot a sliver of light coming from Neuvillette's office.
It felt much too late to be working, but perhaps it was Sedene, fixing up things. Tentatively, you knock on the door, and the faint scratching of a pen against paper suddenly stopped.
Suddenly, this felt like a mistake. You took a single step back, but before you could change your mind and leave, the door swung open and Neuvillette stood there, a look of mild concern on his face.
Neither of you spoke. Neuvillette looks you up and down, brows furrowing, and you realize all at once that you must look like a sight, absolutely soaked and dripping water on the floor. If you weren't so cold, your cheeks would be flushed.
"Why are you here?" he asks, glancing around as though that would provide him with the answer.
Your shoulders slump. You can't really explain why. Maybe it's the disappointment  at the sight of you, or the lack of a warm welcome. Not 'what happened to you' or 'why are you soaking wet' but instead a question that felt almost like he questioning your presence in general.
"I-um," you stutter through chattering teeth, "I got lost and didn't know where to go."
That felt like an understatement of what happened, but you weren't sure how else to answer the question.
Neuvillette didn't seem to know either.
When he didn't say anything more, you shifted from foot to foot, wincing at the cold and the squish of wetness. You'd be lucky if you didn't get sick, after this.
"You got lost?" he finally asks, as though the concept was foreign to him.
You don't know what to say, so you shrug, peering around him. It seemed Sedene had already left for today, and there went your hope for an escort home.
"The streets all look the same to me," you manage, shivering again. "Uh-you can just tell me which way to go, and I'll get out of your hair. I didn't mean to be a bother."
"And why didn't you ask anyone for help? Anyone could have told you where I live."
The question almost comes out cold, for how logical it is. You huff, a small noise of frustration. All you wanted at the moment was to get out of these wet clothes and to be warm again. But it seems that isn't going to happen any time soon.
"Never mind," you murmur, suddenly so tired. Of course he wouldn't understand why you wouldn't want to ask for help. Your Fontainian was still in it's learning stage, and while you could ask a couple of questions with a thick accent, you had no idea how to ask someone to lead you home.
Plus, wouldn't it reflect badly on him, to have a wife who didn't even know how to return home? But you supposed, if it didn't matter to him, then it shouldn't matter to you.
"I'll see you at home, then," you murmur, turning on your heel to leave.
It was the last thing you wanted to do at the moment. The rain seemed to be coming down even harder, you could hear the thunderous roar of rain against the roof as you went to the main door.
A little more rain wouldn't hurt, and you were pretty sure you knew the way home from here.
You step out into the rain, but surprisingly, you don't get any wetter than before. The rain hits something above you, and you glance up to see an umbrella.
Neuvillette stands slightly behind you, umbrella extended over you. You still hadn't stopped shivering, teeth clattering together. Neuvillette almost looks pained as he looks down at you.
"You'll catch your death out here," he says, as though that explains everything.
And then, in true Fontaine fashion, he extends his arm out to you to link your own through, a true and proper escort.
You take it, if only for the stability. And maybe the warmth. And also the umbrella is hardly big enough for two, if you don't stand close, then Neuvillette would get wet as well.
That's the only reason.
He makes quick work of the walk home, and you were almost dismayed by how close you had been the entire time. By the time you walk up the steps, still shivering from  the cold, the rain had finally stopped, the sky clearing to reveal the stars.
"I shall make you something to eat while you dry off," he says, as though it is the law of the land.
You wonder if that is how he sounds in court, when he's trying the cases. You almost want to argue just for the sake of it.
But being dry and having a warm meal sounds much too good to ignore, so you only nod, and go to change your clothes. You debate on taking a bath, the call of the warm water ends up being much too tempting for you.
You emerge feeling like a new person. The water washes away the feelings of the day, and the coldness in your bones. You emerge feeling like a new person, if not a bit more tired and ready for bed than before.
Neuvillette is true to his words. Your hair drips with water as you peek into the kitchen, only to find him sitting at the table, waiting, with two bowls of soup in front of him.
"Come," he says when you don't move forward. You do as asked, sitting beside him and inhaling the rich aroma of the soup.
You had found here that the food varied greatly from what you were used to in Liyue. It certainly wasn't bad, but it was an adjustment. Even the soup was a bit creamier than you were used to, but you ate it eagerly, allowing it to chase away whatever lingering chills the bath hadn't rid you of.
"I'd like to apologize," Neuvillette starts, his own food barely touched, like it's an afterthought for him.
You tilt your head, exhaustion falling over you from the soup and warmth. "For what?"
He looks embarrassed. It's a rather cute look on the normally stoic man. Neuvillette struggles for words, almost seeming to give the words spoken to you the same value that he gives to the court.
"I was not aware that you were struggling to adjust here, I should have foreseen such an event occurring."
He almost looks upset, suddenly. You understand, at least you think you understand. It must be hard having a wife who couldn't even navigate the city of your home.
"It's okay, I'll do better in the future," you reassure, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder as you stand.
It's the first bit of contact you've had since you were married and he placed a kiss upon your cheek at your parents badgering. He looks a bit annoyed though, so you retract your hand to not make him more uncomfortable.
"That's not what I meant. I meant that I should have been here to help you adjust."
"Oh," you say, honestly confused. "it's alright. You're very important here, I don't want to be a bother when you're so busy."
Your words seem to have the opposite of your intended desire. If anything, he looks more upset, leaving you with a rather sour taste in your mouth.
You seemed to be more of an inconvenience than you had even considered.
You hoped this wouldn't turn into an argument. You were tired from wandering and walking for hours, from being caught out in the rain. You rested your head on your hand, trying to think of something to say.
Before your tired mind could think of anything, Neuvillette sighed, a long suffering thing that sounded much older than he must be.
"You should go to bed."
You don't need to be told twice. You take your dish to the sink, leaving it there to be washed by you in the morning. Neuvillette rises, though it seems more to see you off than to actually leave.
"Good night, y/n," he says quietly, still as upset as before.
"Good night, monsieur Neuvillette."
You fall asleep as soon as you're tucked underneath the covers of your bed. You wonder if it's the bed that you're meant to share with your husband, but he never joins you.
And that's fine with you.
-x-x-x-x-
He's still there, in the morning.
It's a sight that makes you freeze coming out of your bedroom, just able enough to peek down the hall and see him in the same place as last night, at the kitchen table. He holds the paper in his hands, the same one that you've seen just about everyone in Fontaine obsessed with.
Did you wake up early? A quick glance at the time told you no, that in fact you had woken up later than normal. Neuvillette was meant to be long gone by now, off to court.
As though sensing your stare, the paper falls, and startling purple eyes lock onto you.
"Ah, you're awake."
You nod, because what else are you going to do? Neuvillette folds the paper back into its  original shape.
"Let me know when you are ready to leave."
Well, you couldn't say you expected that to happen. You nod after a second, before disappearing to get yourself ready.
While you don't look your best, at least you aren't soaked and shaking. Really, the amount of time that you've spent with Neuvillette could be counted on one hand, and you did not like the thought of one of those times being when you were in such a sorry state.
A little bit later, you were back by Neuvillette, looking at him with nothing short of confusion as he prepares to leave.
Oh, the disappointment aches for a moment. Like a child being promised a treat only to have it taken away.
"Well? Come along then."
His voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You take a few, tentative steps forward, until he offers you his hand.
You take it, after a moment, brows furrowed with confusion.
"Don't you have court to attend to?" you ask, as he leads you outside.
"I have sent notice that I will be taking today off. I have recently become aware that my wife needs a tour of Fontaine, and I consider that a much more pressing item on my agenda."
Your cheeks color. You can't tell if it's at being called Neuvillette's wife, or from how he doesn't let go of your hand even when you walk outside.
Before you can ask him if he's sure, if he can really take time off, Neuvillette gestures down the street, and begins what has to be one of the most in depth tours of Fontaine to exist.
This time, getting lost in the sights and sounds is fun. Neuvillette explains every building you pass, the history behind it, and what is happening there now. He lets you pull him in random directions when something catches your eye, and answers every question that you can even think of.
It's fun. Neuvillette is well liked by the people, and suddenly that seems to mean you're well liked as well. The food vendors give you free samples, pressing them into your palm and insisting that you take it despite your protests.
Even the Melusine's stop, chatting with you more than Neuvilllette, much to his surprise. He even comments that you know their names, and seems very ashamed when you point out that you've spent more  time with them instead of him.
You feel like you can actually navigate the city, by the time the sun is setting. Your bones ache from the exhaustion that the excitement has left you with. When Neuvillette notices, he starts herding you home, despite your protests.
The last thing you want is for the day to end. Going back to how it was before seems unbearable now that you know how it could be. If Neuvillette knows of your plight, he says nothing of it.
He simply wishes you a good night, and lets you head to bed.
If it's a dream, you hope that you will remember every detail of it.
-x-x-x-x-
Things don't change after that, much to your relief.
Neuvillette stays in the morning, talking with you sometimes. Most of the time he reads, while you make coffee for yourself, and subsequently him. He likes it with two sugars, no milk.
The information feels nice to have. Especially when, on the very, very rare occasions you wake up before him, you can have a hot cup of coffee waiting for him.
The little things before you grow before anything else. Conversations in the morning. Coffee. Neuvillette bringing you home treats that you love, especially the conch madeleines.
There are other things, as well. When you mention missing a certain dish from Liyue, Neuvillette goes out of his way to procure it for you. You're not sure how he manages to do it, but if it means you can get slow cooked bamboo shoot soup whenever you like, then you're happy not to know.
He comes home earlier, as well. As soon as the case is done for the day, it feels like he's on his way to find you. You're happy to do just that, telling him of everything you managed to do during the day, or whatever else is going on in your head that you want to share.
Neuvillette always listens. And he remembers. You mention once, in an off handed comment, about how beautiful you thought the rainbow roses of Fontaine were.
The next day, you woke up to a bouquet of them at your bedside.
You do your best to return the favor, going to collect him at the Opera house when his day is finished.
When you were younger, you read stories of people falling in love instantly, with a single look and it was easy from there.
You think now, as a married woman, that the stories are wrong. Love comes in the small gestures, in the moments spent together.
-x-x-x-x-
It's pouring rain outside. A heavy downpour that has been going on for the last hour.
It's also the time Neuvillette normally comes home, but it doesn't seem that way today. The change in routine throws you off more than you'd like to admit.
You wait another half hour before you grab your cloak, a heavy thing that Neuvillette insisted on buying you so you wouldn't get soaked in the rain any longer, and head out to the Opera House.
You're not too fond of the aquabuses here. They're faster than walking, but something about them feels so awkwardly slow. But with a bit of tension in your shoulders, you bite down the complaints and make small talk with the Melusine piloting the aquabus as you arrive.
Neuvillette only took you over here once, to show you the Fountain of Lucine. You suppose, on another level, it was also to make sure that you knew where the Opera House was in case you needed him and didn't want to get lost.
You're thankful for his planning.
Everyone else has already left, except for a very dedicated couple by the fountain, praying for blessings upon their child. You wonder if someday that will be you, but dismiss the thought with a blush.
It takes you much too long to find Neuvillette. For a man who cuts such an imposing figure, you wander around in the rain looking for him for much longer than needed. Eventually though, you find him at the back of the Opera House, standing in the rain as though he doesn't notice it.
"Neuvillette?" you call, quiet, as to not startle him. It seems you do so anyways, from how he jumps. "Are you alright?"
He nods, but doesn't speak. You reach out to take a gloved hand, everything about him feels cold.
You lead him back home, and he follows you as though he has no mind for anything else. It takes too long to get home but also not enough time. You hold his hand the entire way.
"Was court today rough?" you finally ask, when you're in the security of your shared home. Neuvillette lets out a hum, not agreeing but not disagreeing either.
You usher him to the bathroom to clean himself up, and go to make something warm, when the irony of the situation hits you all at once, because it must have only been a few months ago that Neuvillette did the same thing for you.
It felt nice to have the roles  switched.
 Neuvillette doesn't seem hungry, so you usher him into your own bed, since truthfully you've been suspicious that he's been sleeping on the couch or at his desk in his office to prevent you from feeling uncomfortable.
You sit down, and urge him to lay his head in your lap. You brush your fingers through his slightly damp hair, and you hum a Liyuen lullaby your mother used to sing to you.
Neuvillette never talks about court. You asked him once and only once about it, curious since everyone in Fontaine seemed to think that the cases were some kind of show. But Neuvillette had simply said that it was very usual, and not worth discussing.
At the time, you took him at his word. Now though, you wonder if it's something more.
"I believe an innocent man was sentenced today," Neuvillette says, after a moment. His voice is so soft, you almost can't hear it under the pouring rain outside.
"Is that so?" you ask, a silent prompt. Does he want to continue? Or leave it there?
He sighs after only a second, pressing further against your hand in his hair. Like a cat seeing attention.
"I'm sure it will be resolved soon, I simply need to investigate things more."
You nod, remaining silent. Neuvillette doesn't explain more, but eventually, as his breathing evens out, the rain comes to a stop outside.
You can't bring yourself to move. It would no doubt wake up Neuvillette, and that seemed like the last thing anyone needed. So you settled amongst the pillows, and close your eyes.
If you wake up tomorrow, still close to another and sleepy limbs tangled together, you said nothing of it. Neither does Neuvillette.
After that though, your bed becomes just the bed, and you're not opposed to that at all.
-x-x-x-x-
The Fountain of Lucine ends up being one of your favorite places in Fontaine. Not for any particular reason, you tell yourself, it's simply pretty to look at.
And that's not a lie. It is pretty to look at, and it's fun to visit and listen to expecting parents wish for good things for their children. It was nice to see the sights and sounds without the hustle and bustle of the city.
The first time you end up going out though, you can't say you had the most pleasant experience.
You had gotten the idea in your head, perhaps you were too bored lately, that you should visit Neuvillette at work and bring him lunch. So you packed a small bag, and made the journey.
Only to be stopped at the entrance of the Opera House by one of the gardes.
"Court is in session, no one is allowed in, miss, without a ticket."
Your head tilts to the side, truly puzzled. A ticket? People bought tickets to court, as though it was a show?
"I'm not going to see the court, I came to drop something off for Neuvillette," you explain to the man, holding up the small box.
The man eyes it with a bit of suspicion, and part of you almost wants to ask if he really thinks you've poisoned it. Another part of you is sure that if you ask, you will absolutely get accused of that.
"That's nice, miss, but you still can't go in. I'm sure you know monsieur Neuvillette has many admirers, and we can't stop court simply because you wish to give him a gift."
Wow. You weren't even sure how to unpack that. You crossed your arms over your chest, not budging.
"I am his wife, here to bring him lunch. Do you want to explain to Neuvillette tomorrow about how you banned his wife from visiting him.?"
The man, you still haven't even gotten his name yet, isn't looking at you any more. He's looking behind you, a look of mild panic on his face.
Oh, this was going to be just like one of those soap operas back in Liyue, wasn't it? You knew without looking who was going to be there.
"Monsieur Neuvillette!" he said, giving the salute of Fontaine. "I was just telling this young woman that we do not allow visitors during court."
"That is true," Neuvillette says, you can almost hear a bit of smile in his voice. "However, I think I can make an exception for my wife. Thank you though, I will handle it from here."
The man scurries away before you can say anything. If he had a tail, it would have been between his legs.
"I think you scared him," you said, turning to your husband.
You ignore your racing heart at hearing Neuvillette call you his wife for the first time. You couldn't stop the smile from spreading on your face though.
"I think if anyone scared him between the two of us, my dear, it was you," he muses, and yes, it is amusement you can hear in his voice.
You two stand there, smiling at each other for a moment before you remember just why you made the journey out here.
"Oh, I brought you lunch." You place the small package in his hand. "I'm sure you're busy here and I wanted to make sure you were eating. I didn't know I needed a ticket to get inside. How did you know I was here?"
"Ah, Aeife told me you had arrive, and I suspected that you would encounter a problem."
He gestures to the side, and sure enough, the small Melusine is there. She gives you a wave before going back to skipping and offering help to those who need it
"She's sweet."
"She is," Neuvillette agrees. "I think most of them like you more than me."
"Who wouldn't like me?"
The smile Neuvillette gives you almost makes you blush, but you barely manage to get a hold of yourself.
"Yes, they'd be fools not to like you."
And now you were blushing. You gently swatted Neuvillette's arm, and only received a chuckle for your antics.
"Thank you," Neuvillette says, genuinely. "I must return now, but I appreciate the thought."
A tiny sliver of disappointment ran through you, but you pushed it down, nodding your head. "Of course, of course. Don't let me keep you. Off you go now."
You made a little shooing motion, the smile on your face letting him know you were simply teasing. But he didn't leave.
"Any time you wish to come and see me, there will always be a ticket waiting for you at the booth." He gestures to the sales booth, which very much looked closed, but you didn't say that. "I'll be sure to tell you the next time Lyney and Lynette do their show."
You visibly perked up, which gained you a small chuckle. You hadn't been shy about saying you wanted to see the show, though apparently it was impossible to find tickets to it.
"Thank you, I'll be sure to take you up on that."
You stood up on your tip toes, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. He seems surprised at the touch, but after a moment manages to compose himself, saying a quick goodbye before returning to work.
Aefie tugged at your skirt, a gentle motion almost as soft as a breeze. You knelt down to her level, allowing her to whisper in your ear.
"Thank you for making Neuvillette so happy."
-x-x-x-x-
You fell a lot, as a child, as all children do.
Scraped knees and bruised elbows. What is childhood without a few injuries? Without those precious moments that make them realize oh, sometimes life has pain.
The first time you heard of the concept of "falling in love" you had thought it was like that. Falling on the ground and bruising your knees.
Now though, you think it is something else. Like the feeling of falling into a warm bed at the end of a long day.
Neuvillette is already in bed tonight, laying on his side facing where you normally lay. You tip toe over to the bed, just in case he's already fallen asleep.
He hasn't though, and your eyes meet his vivid purple ones as you lay down, facing him as well.
"I thought you were asleep," you murmur. Tentatively, you reached for him, only to have him meet you halfway. Your fingers laced together with his.
"I was waiting for you."
Such a simple declaration is enough to make you blush. A year of marriage and he still managed to make you blush.
"I'm here now."
Something changes in his eyes, and he looks at you, so, so, fond. "You are here."
You both lay there, either unwilling or unable to fall asleep, feeling so close but somehow still so far away. It's one of the nights when the rain isn't falling. When you first came to Fontaine, it felt as though the rain never stopped, but now it's only occasionally.
"You never answered my question, you know."
Neuvillette frowns for a moment, thinking. You take pity on him before he can worry if he made you upset.
"I asked if you were kind," you murmur, gentle.
It felt like ages ago, talking to a stranger without knowing who they were. Neuvillette looks at you, waiting, knowing you weren't finished.
You had been so worried about everything. And though Sedene had told you, you didn't know if you could believe it or not.
"And what have you found?" Neuvillette asks. His voice is small, as though he's actually afraid of how you might answer.
You don't hesitate.
"You are," you whisper. You inch closer, knees brushing against his own. "You are so, so kind."
He kisses you. Lips sliding against your own, slotting there as though they were meant to be there. And desperately, with almost a full year of longing in you, you kiss back.
You're breathless by the time that he pulls back. He looks the same, and for the first time you see a small blush on his cheeks.
"I love you," he whispers, a reverent noise just for you.
You smile, leaning in to kiss him again.
"I love you too."
2K notes · View notes
Note
hiii
so i was wondering if maybe you could do a reunion scene with a percy x reader in mark of athena where reader (can be any godly parent) rushes and is so happy to see her seaweed brain again and he’s basically the same
✮⋆˙ percy jackson reunion blurb
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
content: percy jackson x reader blurb warning: i am under the impression of none author's note: FIRST VICTIM OF THE GRINDDDDDDDD
from the moment jason pieced together to two camps, you had your fingers crossed. actually, all of your fingers. and your toes. hades, you wished on every shooting star, staying up late just to seek them out. you scrapped off every inch of your meal, praying to a new god every day to ensure the safe return of your ocean boy. you were wishing on wishes and hoping against hope. all of your faith was placed on the romans, something almost taboo to your greek bones.
you were the first off the argo ii without arguement. they seemed to part like the red sea, but you felt nothing like moses. in fact, you felt small - simply a scared child, arms wrapped around themselves and watery wide eyes. you looked around, desperately, at the gathering romans - they existed, you'd reassured yourself, so jason has to be right. you searched, eyes flirting over the growing crowd but never giving anyone more than a second glance if they didn't met your requirements; stunning dark hair, entrancing sea green eyes, soft kissable skin, freckles galore, and-
stop.
all of it, the world seemed to stop spinning, screeching to a stop like a car when you slam on the brakes. the whiplash felt similar as you jolted forwards, percy's movements mocking your own.
slam!
the world was spinning once more, hurling faster than before to make up for lost time. or maybe it was just percy spinning you around as his arms clasped firmly around you?
you could hear him muttering something against your cheek and hair, but the only words you could make out were 'i remember,' which he seemed to be chanting like a mantra. you pulled him tighter, trying to make it more real. he pulled back ever so slightly, fully taking you in as he tucked some of your now wild hair behind your ear. both of you were crying but the tears were futile and meaningless, as you two were finally together once more.
"i remember you."
"and?"
"and i love you."
"did you need to remember to feel that?"
"no, no. its been sitting heavy in my chest, waiting for you. just for you."
"i'd know what that feels like. i love you more than you can even begin to comprehend."
"i might have an idea."
536 notes · View notes
cryptidghostgirl · 3 months
Text
Understand (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)
Pairing: Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Wife!Reader
Description: Y/n has been using the exterminations as a way to try and search for the soul of her earthly husband for years. What happens when she actually succeeds in finding him?
Warnings: Cannon typical violence and angst. Also uh,, not healthy. (The end is kinda fucked up)
Word Count: 2,411
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
Tumblr media
Y/n slid the dark mask over her face, jiggling it slightly to make sure it had clicked properly into place. She had never wanted to be an exorcist, hated the very thought. When she had been alive, she was the type of human who felt bad about accidentally stepping on bugs. If she had had any other choice, she would’ve taken it but she didn’t and so Y/n tried her best to detach herself from the experience.
Exorcists were a handpicked group by Adam. If you weren’t one, you didn’t know about them and if you knew about them, you were fucked. Y/n’s entire existence in the peaceful afterlife had been turned on its head when she’d been chosen. Pulled out of normal day to day and pushed into harsh, year round training. There was nothing nice about it and nothing she could do. No one listened to a thing she said, not even Sera. Sometimes, Y/n caught herself wishing she’d just been sent to Hell instead.
There was, however, one small benefit to these yearly trips. While it was a pain to act like she was being more violent than she was on the field, a constant terror in her life that Adam and Lute would find out she’d been letting demons go, it also gave her the opportunity to search.
Y/n had been married in life. Her husband had been a criminal, one of the worst, something she hadn’t learned until after his death. Still, she couldn’t stop herself from loving him. Every day on earth she’d lived without him by her side had been abysmal. No other love was quite like his love.
When she had first arrived in Heaven, Y/n had searched everywhere for him. There had been no luck. It had been a foolish hope, she knew: looking for a serial killer among the blessed but, she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to hear him explain, wanted to understand. Most of all, though she tried not to think about this part, she wanted to give him a kiss. To throw her arms around his neck with abandon the way she did when they were young. She wanted to hear his voice, have him tell her he still loved her too and mean it. She wanted to know she hadn’t wasted her life, her one chance at a living love.
The gates opened and Y/n dove through with the hundreds of other exorcists. Their game was underfoot, their cat and mouse sadistic chase. For Y/n? The search was on.
----
Alastor watched as the exorcist descended upon him. He was feeling brave and stupid, empowered after his near win against Vox just a few weeks before. Cracking his knuckles, he wondered what the exorcist’s voice would sound like if added to his broadcast.
A wicked grin on his face, she hovered before him. Her wings flapped with great strength, sending gusts of wind Alastor’s way as she kept herself vertically in the air. Alastor simply looked down, pointedly away from the exorcist, and straightened his lapel with his hand that wasn’t holding his microphone. He was trying to make her angry. As she inched closer to him, Alastor assumed it had worked.
“Don’t see many of your lot around these parts this time of year.” he mused, checking his nail beds, “What can I help you with?”
There was a silence. Alastor looked up towards the angel, confused. Normally a blasé statement like that would have gotten a rise out of anyone intent on killing him. Instead, the lights of her eyes on the mask just stared at him. Slowly, she lowered herself to the ground.
“Say that again.”
Her voice came out muffled and harsh through the mask, clearly altered by some equipment within. He laughed, taking a menacing step forward. Leaning down condescendingly, he conceded to her demand.
“How may I be of use?”
The exorcist was silent again. After a moment, Alastor shrugged. He straightened himself up again, his hands on top of his microphone as if it were a cane. He summoned his shadows.
“Well you’re certainly making this easy.”
His horns began to grow, throwing strange and menacing shadows across the walls of the ally way. Still, the angel stood there.
“It… it can’t be.” she mumbled under her breath.
Alastor raised his eyebrows.
“Can’t be who, darling?” he asked, feigning innocence, “The Radio Demon can’t be such a big name you folks up in Heaven hear my shows, can it?”
Alastor let out a laugh, taking a step forward as the exorcist tentatively took a step back.
“Oh who am I kidding, of course it is!” he exclaimed.
The exorcist took another step back as Alastor threw his microphone into the air, catching the center of its stand neatly in his outstretched hand. Her back hit the shadows he had put up to block the ally way and she frantically turned her head to the side, checking what it was she’d run into.
Alastor tsked her, walking up so they were just a few feet apart. Harshly, he used his microphone to turn his face to hers again.
“Don’t look away from me, dear. I might get jealous.”
“Were you married?” the exorcist asked suddenly.
Alastor froze in his tracks, his brow furrowed the slightest bit.
“Sorry if that’s weird.” she stuttered out, rubbing her arm holding the spear uncomfortably, “I just, well, I’ve been looking for my husband? He died in the early 1930s and well, he sounded a lot like you.”
Alastor’s heart dropped, crashing into his diaphragm. The angel watched him nervously as he removed his microphone from the side of her head. She let out a breath she’d been holding, something that was quickly taken in again as he used the end of his microphone to life her mask from her face.
It clattered harshly against the concrete as it fell from her face. Alastor’s eyes went wide. There was no doubt about it. Sure, she had a soft ethereal glow about her now, but hadn’t she always in a way? Sure, her hair was cropped around her ears and she was in armor. It didn’t matter, in an instant he knew. The shadows fell from around them, his horns shrunk back to their normal size.
“Y/n?”
“Alastor?” she asked back, just as breathless.
Slowly, she reached a hand out to his face and cupped his cheek. He leaned into it on instinct. Y/n’s spear clattered to the floor, her other hand finding his other cheek as she looked up at him in simple amazement.
“You…” gingerly, Alastor reached his free hand up, laying it on top of one of Y/n’s, “Of course you’ve been in Heaven this whole time. You were always so good, much too good for me.”
“Oh hush, Alastor.” Y/n scolded lightly, her eyes filling with tears, “You know I don’t like it when you put yourself down like that.”
“No, Y/n.” he let his microphone disappear, taking both her hands off his face and holding them intently in his own, “You don’t understand. I did terrible things when I was alive, I still do them now. There is a reason I am down here.”
“I know.” she responded almost immediately.
“No, y-”
“I don’t mean to interrupt but Al, I do know.” Y/n cut him off, “You were killed hurrying a body hun, hard not to. Plus, when the police searched the house they told me what they’d, um, found in the basement freezer.”
Y/n chose her words carefully, her eyes averted. When she looked back at Alastor, he was still smiling yes but, there was something confused about him too. They had grown up together. She had always known exactly what was going on in that head of his. Well, most of the time anyways.
“I’ve been looking for you.”
“You have?” Alastor asked, “After everything, after… God, how long did I leave you up there alone?”
“About thirty years.” Y/n shrugged.
There was a moment of silence. A question tugged at Alastor’s tongue, one he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer to. Still, time was running out. The screams of demons being attacked were becoming more and more infrequent. He didn’t know if he’d ever get another chance.
“Did your new husband make it up to heaven with you?”
Y/n’s eyes went wide.
“New husba- Alastor, I never remarried.”
“Why not? You deserved to be treated well, Y/n. To have had a good life. Why waste it all on me?”
“I loved you. I still do.”
Y/n knew it was a bad idea, knew the risks if any other exorcist in the area heard her. Still, she couldn’t help but feel it would be worth it to die, knowing she’d found Alastor and that he knew she still loved him.
“You find anyone down here yourself?” Y/n asked awkwardly after a moment, looking around the ally.
Alastor took a step forward, closing what little space had been left between them. Like he had done it a thousand times before, because he had done it a thousand times before, he raised a hand to Y/n’s cheek and turned her face to his. Eyes wide, lips slightly parted, she stared up at him.
“No one.” Alastor shook his head, “There’s no one but you.”
A horn sounded from a ways away and Y/n turned up to the sky. Waves of exorcists were flying over head, going back to the portal, back to heaven. Y/n took a step back, Alastor’s hand falling from her cheek.
“Al, I have to go.”
“Please, Y/n. Stay with me here. I can’t get to you up there, I don’t want to lose you again.”
“I have to go, Al. I don’t want to cause any more trouble for you and everyone else down here.” she insisted, turning to where her mask lay on the ground, “I’ll be back in twelve months, I promise.”
As Y/n leaned over to grab her called disguise, her wings splayed out behind her. Light hit the tip of her spear just right in that moment, catching Alastor’s eye. A wicked idea filtered into his mind. Something he never could have done, would have ever even imagined when he’d been alive. But now? Hell had hardened him, taught Alastor sometimes you had to be cruel to get what you want and not just when it came to killing creeps. He had tried life without Y/n before, tried nearly sixty years of it. Alastor didn’t like it one bit.
“We will get to see one another then,” Y/n was saying as her trembling fingers fumbled for the edge of her mask in the dim light, “and I promise I’ll find a way we can end up together for good, I really d-”
A searing pain shot through her, causing her words to catch in her throat. It was worse than anything Y/n had ever felt before, emanating from the center of her back. Panting in pain, she reached a hand behind her back. It came away wet with sticky, golden blood. Her vision blurring, Y/n looked up at Alastor. Clutched in his right fist was the head of her spear. From the other hand, he dropped her left wing to the floor.
“Alastor…” she panted, her breath weak, “what…”
He took a step forward and an arrow of fright shot through Y/n. She tried to take one back but the pain was starting to really get to her now and she stumbled, falling to the ground. Alastor stood over her, smiling menacingly down as she scooted back from him. Y/n was full on hyperventilating now.”
“Al, what are you doing? What… how… I don’t understand.”
Alastor hushed her gently, the way he used to when they were little kids and he found her crying. Tears began to drip from Y/n’s eyes and she jolted violently with fear as his clawed hand grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to twist around and giving him access to her other wing. He grabbed it, pulling it out to its fullest extent.
“Alastor please.” Y/n begged, tears rolling hotly down her face, “Please don’t. Please.”
“My, these sure are pretty.” Alastor hummed, admiring the weft of the feathers as he held Y/n’s remaining wing.
“Why would you do this!?” Y/n screamed, her voice echoing in the empty ally.
Alastor fell to his knees behind her, still holding her wing out, still immobilizing her in pain.
“I’ve already lost you once.” he said softly, leaning into Y/n’s ear. She whimpered, trying to scoot away from him but unable to due to the hold he had on her appendage, “I won’t do it again. If Satan, or God, or the fucking universe think they can keep us apart, then not a single goddamn one of them has been paying attention because you are mine. You are mine and there is nothing that I wouldn’t do to keep things that way.”
As the final words left Alastor’s lips, he cut through Y/n’s remaining wing in a single motion. She let out an earsplitting scream before passing out in a steadily growing puddle of her own golden blood.
“There, there my love.” Alastor hummed gently, dropping the spear to the ground and smoothing her her wild hair down around her face as he pulled himself to his feet.
Straightening his jacket, Alastor leaned down and picked her limp body up off the sidewalk. The injuries were bad, but nothing he couldn’t help her handle.
“I just can’t explain to you how happy I am to have you back in my arms.” he said to Y/n’s sleeping form, looking down at her tired and tearstained face with nothing short of adoration, “You might be mad for a while, but I can handle that. At the end of the day, we will both know that you’re not going anywhere.”
Leaning down, he planted a soft kiss on Y/n’s forehead. For a moment, his smile went hollow. He hadn’t meant to go this far, to hurt her this bad. Alastor had just been so scared, so utterly terrified at the prospect of losing her again.
“She will understand.” he reassured himself, “She has to understand.”
——
Part Two → Caged Bird (Dark!Alastor x Exorcist!Reader)
925 notes · View notes
ayoogirlie · 2 months
Text
Before I start writing angst, let's go with something pleasant. I just recently started reading and watching MASHLE which is why I don't knowe many characters well.
MASHLE MAIN 5 X GN!READER (separated)
Main 5 falling in love with you!
Tumblr media
Mash
This one is oblivious. He doesn't realise he holds special feelings for you. I believe at first he could have though of you as sibling.
You're just as important as his father so why not? The three of you could be a fine family.
He would share creampuff with you... just like with others. Honestly, it would be difficult to notice he likes you in that way. This man is so indifferent or more like he forgot to train his face muscles.
The thing that betrayed his feelings is the fact that he has been following you everywhere like a little duckling his mom.
Whether you have classes together or not. If you had them together — he would sit with you or at least close to you. Some rather prefer to sit alone, which helps them focus. On the other hand, if you have separated classes, he would always escort you to the class and only leave after making sure you sat down.
Mash's main love language would be act of service. I don't find him as a touchy guy — he would respect your personal space. The most he would do is grab the snip of your sleeve to not possibly lose you in crowd. (I find it cute honestly, like he would be to shy to grab your hand, so he would be happy with bare minimum.)
Going back to act of services. I think you would have a special privilege — flavoured creampuff. Coffee, chocolate, strawberry, etc., whichever you want. This guy would take you to kitchen and make you bake them together. Unless, your cooking is hopeless and you can set the kitchen on fire, then you're simply watching him work and talk about the silliest things.
Mash would definitely listen to your rambling. Well, at least he will try to. At some point, he would pass out, if he was overflowing with many new information. Please, go slow with him.
When asking others for help with you, he first would try to figure things out himself. Only if he had no more ideas, would he ask his friends for love advices (most likely Lance or Finn).
This guy is so sweet yet so clueless. He loves you so clumsily and as a boyfriend he doesn't change his attitude much. He already treated you in special way. Well, maybe he'll get more intimate with you. I'll leave it to your imagination.
Finn
I simply adore this boy. His love is as innocent as he is. Literally, he would be all red and shy when he realised his feelings for you.
He would get nervous around you and every possible physical contact would make him explode. He's too focused to not make any mistakes in front of you, that he forgets to relax.
Well, it's not like he's always like that. His heart would explode at this point. There are some moments, when he is even sweeter than he is now. It's when you simply sit somewhere and do nothing, just enjoying your existence. He feels so calm that he wish those moments would last forever.
Finn likes DIY. So I bet he would make some for you, it might be jewelry, plushie or something more practical. Whatever you'll ask for he will do. (If it's in terms of his skills.)
If you ask him to teach you how to make some, he would be more than happy. Who wouldn't be happy to spend time with their crush?
He would carefully explain everything and help you if you have any difficulties with the project. Sometimes I wonder where he gets all this patience from. Whether you would get discouraged or curse how hard it is, he would try to calm you down and explain your mistakes.
When I'm still talking about teaching. Study session. I just see with my eyes of imagination. The two of you sitting in library beside each other and bending over books. It depends on you — whether he's teaching you some subject or you just enjoy your company.
Finn loves animals. I think, he would always tell you many random fact about them and won't stop talking, until he gets a hold on himself.
When he finally remembers himself, he will start apologising and feeling bad about being the only one talking. Then you kave to reassure him that you really don't mind and he can continue.
As a boyfriend, he treats you very well. People might say he's a perfect boyfriend material, but you can see how much he tries and I hope you do as much for him as he does for you.
Lance
Honestly, I can't imagine him giving someone else attention than his sister. Like this sis-con on has Anna in his head. So you can imagine how everyone was surprised when they noticed his unusual behaviour towards you.
And it wasn't some big change. No. It was more subtle. He was less strict with you than he is with others. Whenever you seemed sad because of his, sometimes mean, comments, he would apologise. (It took him a lot of courage to say this simple words.) He was more careful with his act to not sadden you.
I believe that after some time of knowing each other he would tell you about his sister and maybe if he happens to trust you a lot — about her illness as well.
He strikes me as a gentleman at some point. He would hold the door for you, help you with school work and follow you almost everywhere as if it was his duty.
Unfortunately for you, his sister will always be his number one, so unless you accept this fact, I don't think he will try to do anything with your relationship.
As well as it was with Finn, you two would have study session together. This guy is so clever that it would be stupid not to ask for help with the subject, spell or other thing you have difficulties with.
He truly admires you. You saw him in numerous embarrassing situations, for example when he was talking to Anna's pictures etc. Everyone' else would already start avoiding him. Maybe that's why he finds you as a perfect match for himself. Someone who wouldn't judge his behaviour and just accept his 'imperfections'.
Lance would respect your personal space and it would have to be you who initiates physical contact (mostly before your relationship). But he would place his hand on your waist with excuse not to let you bump into others.
He looks like the guy who would give other people, who are talking to you, nasty glare, when you don't look. It's not that he doesn't believe in his charm, it's just the fact that he doesn't like others being to close or touchy with you.
As a boyfriend Lance becomes more possessive and clingy. He would hug you from behind and gets touchy when you least expect it. Well, at least you're never bored.
Dot
It's easy to captivate this hot-headed guy's heart... if you're a woman of course. Male readers have it harder. But now we are talking about the stage he is already in love.
He would always boast to his friends about how he's going to marry you with no shame. Of course, always when you're absent. If by chance you will witness him saying it. He would want to hide under ground.
He would always scream at the person, you would give too much attention. He gets easily jealous, but he act like thata with every male that gets too much attention from others.
That's why you don't realise he holds any special feelings towards you. He still acts like he act towards women, so you don't think any special of the way he treats you.
I believe Dot would be touchy with you. Like put his arm over your shoulder or surprise you from behind. Honestly, if he would have ever touched you in a way that would make you feel uncomfortable, as a man he is — he would never forgive himself.
In his eyes, he gives you special treatment. He doesn't play pranks on you and even with Lemon in room, he always focus on what you're saying and so on.
After some time, he gets more obvious that others notice his strange behaviour. He always stares at you, daydream about you two being together. His eyes are always following your person.
When you're close, he catch himself on enjoying your fragrance. Later of course, Dot will blame himself as well call himself a pervert. But you cannot be mad at him. He just can't get enough of you.
If he only could he would almost always hold you in his arms and never let go, while being too scared you might run away from him.
He is energetic, so as a boyfriend he would take you to many places. Date? Let's go to amusement park, if not, we have many other options. Of course, sometimes you two have home dates, where you just cuddle and enjoy eachother company.
Lemon
Congratulations. You just won over Mash and captured Lemon's heart. This turn of event surprised everyone, like literally everyone, even Mash.
Lemon would act similar like she did while having crush on Mash. She would be so delulu and talk about how the two of you are engaged and all (in fact you aren't... for now).
She would randomly grab your arm and hug it. People got used to seeing you this way. The two of you walking through the corridor, you look like those couples who always stick close to eachother.
She gets easily jealous of other people you're close with, expect for Mash, Lance, Finn and Dot, since she knows they won't try anything with you. When she feels threatened by someone, she would get closer to you or (in most cases) panic.
She would definitely share Cupid Gummies with you. Like she would buy it and almost immediately run to you only to give you some. She thinks of it as a special bond between the two of you.
Lemon blush a lot around you, that's for sure. You get too close? With red as tomato face, she would slap you. She gets a little violent when nervous, it's the fact you have to accept. But who can blame her? She's so happy to have you around that she cannot control her actions.
She's like a ray of sunshine, which is why whenever you're sad, she will try to make you feel better. Sometimes when words won't help, she just sits next to you. She wants you to know she will be always here for you.
You would get a lucky charm from her. One reason is that to keep you safe, other is to have her close to you. While making a design she would try to match with your taste. Like when she made Mash creampuff plushie, she would make something similar.
Whenever she would have problems with spells, she would go to you. Perfect excuse to spend time together! In exchange, she would teach you theory you would have problem with.
As a girlfriend, Lemon is very sweet. She wouldn't have to find excuses just to spend time with you. You would be often seen together eating lunch or walkings around while holding hands.
503 notes · View notes
rosedom · 3 months
Note
ok ok so, kazuha who always denied it everytime reader calls him a pretty boy. so reader fuck him rough and won't let him cum before kazuha tell that he's a pretty boy
Tumblr media Tumblr media
there's just something about pretty boys that has me weak . . . o(* ̄︶ ̄*)o thirst format !
Tumblr media
hoooolyyyy moly. god, okay ! you got me, you got me.
kazuha is so, so sweet. he waxes poetic with every breath he takes. each whisper of affection curls around you, warm and tender and so, so loving. but it wouldn't take long for you to notice how quiet he is regarding himself.
you wonder, then, how he can create such beauty from the setting sun, yet he can never compare his own eyes to them. his eyes, so wide and round and gorgeous, tinted like the ocean water when the sun kisses it in retreat. he, too, never dares to speak of the way his body, so small yet so strong, can wield the type of power that can put gods at his feet. no—instead, he writes about how beautiful the shogun looked; he sees through an artist's eyes the way her eyes widened in fear, the way her pupils shrunk and pretty purple showed just how human a god could be.
you simply cannot understand how a man can see the world through such a rose petal'd lens, yet when he looks at himself, he sees nothing of note. he sees a vessel, sure; he can understand the innate beauty of soul's vessel. but beyond that? nothing.
it makes your heart break, knowing that kazuha—the man capable of so much art, making the world brighter and changing the way you see everything—does not see himself in any positive light. to him, he simply exists.
really, he walks the earth the same as you do—yet while he marvels that you are here with him, he cannot grasp that you, too, marvel at him.
he could grasp, however, at your cheeks—at you yourself, when you've got him pressed into the bed with your foreheads touching. he holds onto you tightly with trembling hands, soft little sounds punched from his throat which each thrust.
"you're so—mm—!" he'd try: try to praise you, to say something pretty while you're balls deep. he can't really manage, though, when your cock presses into all his sweet spots.
each incessant thrust into him makes him cry out, cute, soft sounds that you just want to eat up ! you'll have to pardon me for thinking about how you'd have to kiss up his moans, licking into his mouth as it hangs open in his pleasure.
kazuha'd keep his shakey hold on your face, forcing you up and away from his lips to beg, "please, please. you're so perfect, like—mm—like the—the—mm!" silence his attempts at poetry, won't you?
"baby, baby," you'd have to soothe him with, punctuating each sweet name with a deep thrust, pressing into all the spots that make him writhe. "my pretty boy."
of course, he'd deny it; i wouldn't expect anything different. but quiet him more: shake your head at him and frown, gentle and not at all unkind, and kiss away his "no, no."
"but kaz," you'll say. "you're so, so pretty. so perfect f'r me." his hands, fallen from your cheeks, would claw at your back as he'd be left to squirm and cry in the arms of yours that trap him against the bed.
simply put: there is nowhere for him to go, to get away from your sweet, sweet words.
i guess you'll have to up the stakes. how awful, truly.
"c'mon, pretty," you'll coo, instead, slowing your thrusts to a torturous drag. "tell me something, will you?"
"w-what?"
with a mischievous grin, you'll have to murmur, "tell me you're pretty." then, "until you do, you're not gunna cum." 
i wish i could see the way his eyes would widen at that—betrayed, as if you had told him he wouldn't cum at all. but you'll hardly give him the time to reflect on your words—to deny them, to say anything different—, because you'd be thrusting in hard and deep and brushing against all the right places. he'll writhe and cry beneath you, and, god.
kazuha is so, so pretty: why can't he see that?
"i—mm, please, i'm so close . . ."
"you can't cum, though," you'd have to say, reaching a hand down against your words to hurry him along. his body'll jerk in your arms, torn between succumbing to the pleasure yet wanting to be good for you, to not cum just yet.
"i can't," he'll cry, shaking his head side to side and jerking on the pillow. "i can't."
when he gets too close, do something for me: reach down and pinch at his pelvis, so close yet so far to where he wants it. "yes, you can;" you'll have to soothe him with sweet words, hard n' deep thrusts. "you're my pretty boy, kaz, tell me you're pretty."
"i—i—"
"c'mon." he'd be so close, by then, twitching everywhere and left to dig into your shoulder blades. the marks he leaves across your upper back will be gorgeous, later. "you can do it, honey. c'mon."
relenting is not easy for kazuha: this you know.
but you'll also know that it's harder to stave off an orgasm for him. and so—when his hole begins to squeeze and throb around you—, he would finally cry out, "'m pretty—!" and tumble headfirst into orgasm.
just—pretty boy kazuha (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠) <33
Tumblr media
11 FEB. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
540 notes · View notes