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bitethedevil · 7 months ago

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The Devil's Dinner Party (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 3

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 (Finished)

Link to the fic on AO3

Warning: NSFW, gore, and mention of suicide.

Summary: Tav accepts Raphael’s invitation to a dinner party after she had handed him the Crown of Karsus. None of her companions show up, so it is just her, Raphael, and a bunch of Raphael’s favored clients. Raphael is suspiciously kind to her, but everything might not be as perfect as it seems.

(AN: The ending is really dark. Not dark in a "that's so sad"-way, more in a "wow that's...that's really fucked up"-way. Our devil really do be devil-ing in this one. I would not recommend reading to the end if you are squeamish. Also...This is my first attempt at writing smut, like ever, so again...bear with me.)

He took her to his bedroom. Despite the eagerness hidden in his dark eyes, he was in no hurry. He took his time stripping her off her clothes and placing kisses wherever he exposed her bare skin. He showered her with sweet words between kisses. She found herself getting completely lost in it.

He was not the egotistical lover that Tav might have expected him to be. He took his time to drive her to the edge of insanity before even touching her in the places she wanted him to. He leaned over her on the bed and kissed her with passion while his hand finally found its way to the part of her that was begging for him. He stroked between her folds gently with his fingers, making her moan in his mouth and buck her hips against him.

She was already almost dripping onto his expensive sheets when he started kissing his way down her chest. His tongue briefly swirling around each of her nipples, before continuing his trail of kisses down to between her legs.

He began eating her out in the same excruciatingly slow pace and it was pulling her apart. Her hips bucked against his mouth instinctively, desperate for more. He bit her inner thigh firmly at her impatience and held down her hips with his hands. However, he also heightened the intensity and pressure of his tongue, which almost sent her over the edge.

She whined as he stopped right before she reached her climax. He leaned over her again and kissed her once more. This time she could taste herself on his tongue, which only heightened her arousal. He ran his length up and down her folds a couple of times, coating it in her wetness before slowly entering her.

He broke the kiss and began moving into her in an unhurried pace. He looked into her eyes and spoke sweet words to her while he did. Whenever she looked away for a moment, he would bring her attention back to him. It was intensely intimate. She was completely lost in the moment of it.

It was so easy to forget what he truly was, with the way he treated her as if she was such a fragile and precious thing. He was so…human. She did not see the devil, but rather the man that she suspected had been hiding somewhere behind that cruel exterior she had gotten so used to on her adventure. She placed kisses on his neck and chest, which earned her even more sweet words and sounds from him. It felt like they were old lovers and they had known each other’s bodies for years.

“My sweet, sweet mouse,” he breathed in her ear and the pace of his thrusts became quicker. “Won’t you stay here? Run away from that cruel and judgmental world of yours. You would never want for anything…”

Her moans got louder as his pace quickened. She knew that it was a product of the situation, but in that moment, she wanted nothing more. To stay with him and listen to his sweet words, instead of going back to face her reality in Baldur’s Gate where there was only guilt and anxiety to be found.

“I can’t,” she breathed between moans.

“But you want to, don’t you? To be mine.” he whispered against her lips.

“Yes,” she admitted, being caught up in the moment.

She could feel Raphael smirking against her lips as his thrusts became faster and harder. She gasped and dug her nails into his back. Her eyes fluttered shut and a desperate moan escaped her lips as she came undone in his arms. Raphael’s climax followed shortly after.

He collapsed on the bed beside her and pulled her closer to him. He kissed her forehead sweetly after she laid her head on his chest. After Raphael had caught his breath and a few moments had passed, he tilted up her head to kiss her gently.

“As much as it pains me to leave your side, I have something I must attend to before going to bed,” he said in a low voice and got up from the bed to get dressed. “Rest now, dear.”

He got dressed and gave her cheek a brief caress before leaving the boudoir. She wanted to protest, but it was as he had cast a spell on her with his command that she should rest. She did suddenly feel extremely tired. Most likely, it was the alcohol that was making her drowsy, Tav thought.

She wondered briefly how much of all of this she would be regretting tomorrow when she would be completely sober. It was the last thing she thought before drifting away to a deep sleep.

Her consciousness perceived a couple of bizarre things during the night. The faint sound of screams, something being put around her wrists, Raphael laying down beside her, and Raphael leaving the bed. None of it was enough to truly shake her awake from her deep slumber. It felt more like odd dreams than anything else.

It was difficult to wake up in the morning. Tav could not remember the last time she had slept so deeply. She blinked slightly and looked around the room. Raphael was not in the bed beside her. She wondered how long she had slept for while rubbing her eyes.

When she removed her hands from her face, she caught a glimpse of something around her wrists. She blinked and raised her hands up to her face.

Thick metal cuffs with infernal lettering were around both of her wrists. Her sleepiness was gone in a second as she to her horror recognized the cuffs. Prince Orpheus had been chained with similar constructs.

She got up from the bed as fast as if it had been made of poisonous snakes and pulled on her clothes. She needed to get away and she needed to get away now. Perhaps, if she could make her way to the foyer with all the portals, she could escape somehow. She ran through the house as quietly and quickly as she could, hoping that she would not run into Raphael.

When she got to the large room where the dinner party had been the night before, she stopped in her tracks. Her hand instinctively clasped around her mouth so that she would not scream.

The guests from the day before, or at least parts of them, laid scattered all over the floor. There were blood and intestines everywhere. There were knives and sharp objects covered in blood. Some of the bodies were barely recognizable with the way they had been ripped apart. She noticed a decapitated hand that was still grasping around a knife. They had tried to defend themselves in their last moments to no avail, Tav thought with horror.

Tav jumped when she heard a wheeze. Someone was still breathing. She shakingly walked through the piles of corpses, trying to discern where the sound was coming from so she could help. As she searched, she noticed that the sound was coming from above her. She looked up. She could not keep herself quiet anymore as she started to sob.

It was Rolim. That cheerful and puppylike half-elf that had flirted with her at the party. He was somehow still alive and was looking back at her with a horrified expression. He looked as if he was trying to scream but nothing came out except wheezes. He was hanging on a hook that looked like it was lodged through his spine. Some of his skin had been peeled from his torso and was hanging loose. He had a knife in his hand that he was still flailing in the air, but it looked as if he could barely lift his arm anymore.

Tav broke down. How could she not have heard? She did hear but she did nothing. She could have done something if she had only gotten up when she thought she heard screams during the night. Why couldn’t she just have woken up?

“Tut-tut, mouse,” she heard from behind her. It made her blood run cold.

“Still blaming yourself for every suffering being you come across, I see,” Raphael said cooed behind her. “I assure you, there was nothing you could have done.”

She knew deep down that running would not get her very far, so she turned around to face him instead. There were tears staining her cheeks, but she put on the bravest face she could. Raphael was in his devil form. He was infuriatingly calm as he stood and observed at her.

“Why?” she asked quietly. “Why did you kill them?”

“I was simply claiming a few assets,” he said smoothly. “Taking over the Hells is such an expensive endeavor.”

Raphael walked closer to her, making her take a few steps back.

“Besides, I didn’t kill them. That would go against the terms of their contracts,” Raphael said as if the notion was offensive to him. “They did this to themselves and to each other...In fact...let me show you.”

He grabbed her by the arm and then forced her to look up at Rolim, by grabbing the back of her head and pointing it up towards him. She was forced to watch in horror as Rolim sliced more skin off his own chest with his shaking arm that was holding the knife. His mouth was wide open as if screaming, but still only a horrifying wheezing sound came out. Tav realized what Raphael said had been true. The guests had not been trying to defend themselves with the knives she saw scattered around on the floor. They had been slaughtering each other while under Raphael’s control.

“Kill him…please…” Tav pleaded and tried to turn her head, but Raphael’s grasp around the back of her neck was firm.

Rolim was mouthing something between the silent screams as he mutilated himself: Help. Help. Help…

“Are you sure?” Raphael purred against her ear.

Tav nodded as the tears ran down her cheeks.

“Very well. Anything for you, my dear,” Raphael said.

Raphael snapped his fingers, and a faint glow came over Rolim’s eyes for a moment as Raphael’s control took over him. Rolim raised the knife and thrusted it into his own chest without hesitation. The knife clattered to the floor and Rolim went limp.

Raphael loosened his grip on Tav, and she quickly moved away from him.

“How could you?” she said quietly before her tone turned to anger. “You lying bastard! Our contracted stated—”

“Our contract stated that I was not to use the Crown of Karsus to dominate a mortal, yes,” Raphael said loudly and spoke over her. “Do you see a crown on my head?”

Tav’s eyes darted around. She did not understand.

“I absorbed that power, took it for myself, ensuring that it would never escape my grasp again. As of now, the crown is nought more than a piece of metal collecting dust in the bowels of my archive.”

Tav couldn’t breathe. Her legs gave in under her and she fell to her knees.

This meant that she had doomed everyone. Raphael could do what he pleased with his new powers.

“And I could not have done it without you, my dearest mouse,” Raphael said cruelly.

She saw a knife on the ground not far from where she was sitting. She lunged after it, intending to end it all while she could. She grabbed the knife, but Raphael stepped on her hand, causing her to yelp out in pain.

“Oh, this will simply not do, my love,” he said and pressed his boot down harder on her hand, making her scream. “After all, you got everything you wished for did you not?”

He pulled her to her feet and held her close to him.

“It is such a shame that your dear little friends could not attend last night,” he said cruelly as he tightly gripped one of her hands and tapped a claw on the metal cuff around her wrist. “Though I suspect that they might be persuaded to pay us a visit yet. Let’s hope that they remember where they put that ‘bloody hammer’ of mine, was that not what you called it? Because without it, you will never leave this house.”

“Don’t you dare touch them, Raphael,” she said, her voice cracking. “Don’t you dare…Please, Raphael. Let me go home,”

“But you longed for this, didn’t you? To get away from all the guilt and anxiety. To forget and simply stay with me, far away from it all,” he said in a mock sympathetic voice as Tav was squirming to get out of his arms. “I read your thoughts. In fact, you wanted nothing more, is that not right?”

So it was true. He had been reading her thoughts the entire time. He knew exactly how to play her and what would make her fall into his arms, because he was inside her head the entire time.

“Let me go…” she cried.

“Oh, my sweet, it pains me to see you so upset,” he cooed with a cruel smile on his lips. “Especially when I am offering you everything you wished for. Do you not want to be happy?”

She did not answer but kept trying to escape his grasp. He gripped her chin and forced her to look at him.

“Answer me,” he ordered.

“Yes,” she sobbed. “Please—”

“Good,” he interrupted and snapped his fingers.

Her eyes glowed briefly just as Rolim’s did before. Her body stopped fighting and went limp. A sense of calm washed over her. The blood and gore around her disappeared. The last thing she remembered was waking in Raphael’s bed and seeing the cuffs around her wrists…She did not mind…They must have been a gift from Raphael…She was safe…She was with him…He was so beautiful in that form, Tav thought as she looked into his orange eyes that washed all her worries away.

She looked at him with a soft expression, taking in his features as if he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She smiled and put her hand on his cheek.

“Now, my dear,” he said with a charming smile while he held her around her waist. “Do you want to go home, or do you want to stay here?”

“I’d like to stay here…with you,” she said with a bright smile.

“Very good,” Raphael said a sweet condescending voice and kissed her forehead. “Your wish is my command, little mouse.”

#writing #raphael the cambion #Raphael x Tav #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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takaminevaeh · 1 year ago

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dom!boxer baku x sub!fem reader

cw// slight subdrop, aftercare

As promised… part two~

“Come on, baby… it’s been an hour… we gotta get you clean…”

I whimper, burying my face in his neck as I shake my head.

“I’m sorry… but I’m taking you to the bath.”

I struggle for a moment before relaxing in his arms again, allowing him to take me into the bathroom.

I noticed the bath was already drawn, the bathroom dimly lit.

The scent of vanilla wafted through the air as he walked me to the tub, settling us both in.

My back was pressed against his chest, watching as his hand grabbed a soft sponge, plunging it into the water to absorb the soapy suds.

He washes my body gently, kissing my face over and over as he whispers praises into my ears.

“You did so well for me, precious… so beautiful…” He continues cleaning me, grabbing an empty cup and filling it, covering my eyes as he pours the water on my head.

He shampoos my hair with gentle fingers, massaging my scalp delicately, yet firm.

He rinses the suds out and then massages the conditioner through the strands of my hair, grabbing a brush and brushing my hair section by section.

He rinses the conditioner out and presses me against him once more, sighing as he wraps his arms around my waist.

“I’m so proud of you, hun…”

I close my eyes as we sit there together, allowing the warm water and his embrace to lull me into a brief slumber.

Very brief.

I woke up on the velvet chair in the corner of our room, watching with tired eyes as he changed out the sheets for clean ones.

“M’sorry for making a mess…” A deep chuckle comes from his chest as he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it…” He finishes and tosses the dirty sheets into the basket close to the door, standing up straight as he turns to me, his hands on his hips.

“Now… do you want your pajamas or one of my t-shirts?”

“… Shirt, please.” He nods and moves towards the dresser, taking out one of his shirts and moving towards me.

“C’mon, arms up.” I do as he says, allowing him to slip the shirt on.

He takes the opportunity to scoop me into his arms, moving me onto the bed.

“Do you need me to massage you anywhere..?” I shake my head.

“No… m’okay…” He nods and holds me close to him, kissing my temple as he runs his fingers over my arm.

“… Do you feel better now?” I ask him softly.

He sighs and throws his head back, moving his arm so the back of his hand is resting against his forehead.

“Yeah… I’m good. He just… he gets me so angry…”

“… I know.” He looks at me and sighs, tucking my hair behind my ear.

“… You know I love you, right?” I nod gently.

“Good. Because it’s true. I love you so much and… and I know I don’t say it as often as I should.” I laugh softly.

“I know you do… don’t worry. I love you too… so much…” He pulls me into a soft kiss, more intimate than anything as his hands travel to the back of my head, keeping me pressed against him.

He pulls away with a soft smile on his face, kissing my nose softly before pressing his forehead against mine.

“Time for you to go back to bed. Wanna take you shopping tomorrow.”

“… Can we go to the bookstore?”

He chuckles.

“Yeah… yeah we can, baby.”

Hope you enjoyed! I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I did!

If you want something specific, feel free to comment suggestions or you can wait for my poll that I will be posting later this week.

Happy reading!

#bnha bakugou #bakugo smut #aftercare #bakugou x reader #boxer au

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muffinsin · 10 months ago

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uhm, would you be willing to write an age regression fic with each of the Dimitrescu sisters? (NOT SEXUAL!) i was thinking of the Dimitrescu sisters wanting to try age regression with their S/O but they don’t know how to branch that topic. however, one day the reader is having a bad day and the sisters decide that it’s time to ask them? (is it alright if you include breast feeding?)

thank you

Sure! :)

Let’s get into it!🙌 this got quite long, so I’ll keep em as separate posts :) this is Bela’s part

Once uploaded, y’all can find

Cassandra’s part here

Daniela’s part here

Masterlists

Bela

She’s always been very caring for you. Beyond the norm, really. Maternal, even

You never minded. You think it’s nice, if anything, how much she cares

You’re Bela’s top priority, and she lets you know as much. You’re who is always on her mind, who she loves and cares for deeply

She ensures you eat and drink, take breaks from your work at the castle, reminds you of schedules and your work, takes interest in your hobbies and watches out so you not only get plenty of sleep, but also feel rested

However, as of recent, another thing has been on Bela’s mind. Occupying it, hiding in the back of her head and only sometimes darting forth when she spends time with you

She wants to coddle you. She wants to nurture you. She wants to take care of you, properly, at times

Not even Bela understands these emotions at first. Why is she feeling this way? She doesn’t know, at first

Upon reading more into it and thinking it all over, she comes to one conclusion: she wants to be your mama, and wants you to be her little one. Truly, her little one. More than just the nickname she has given you the moment she first laid eyes on you

But- Bela is worried

What if you don’t agree? Or worse yet- what if you detest her for this? What if you think of her as awful and strange? What if you grow hateful towards her? What if it ruins what the two of you have?

She doesn’t want to lose the relationship between you two, she just…wants more. She wants to, at times, care differently for you. More platonically intimate, more maternal

Bela, ever the overthinker, can’t stop her flow of thoughts and worries. For a while, she decides to rest the topic. To ignore it, and act as though all of it never even happened inside her head

As though she doesn’t think of holding and nursing you. Of hearing you giggle preciously and of tucking you in and reading you stories

But, she notices your rising stress levels

How no matter how hard she tries, she can’t completely take the burdens of your work from you. She knows, she stress is getting to you too

Bela desperately wants to suggest age regression. To let go of all your worries and let her take over completely. She wants nothing but for you to be completely carefree

And she knows, she could help you achieve this. This carefreeness. This happiness. No more stress or worries at all, that is what she wants for you

Today is an exceptionally bad day, and Bela hums quietly in hopes of calming you down as she wraps her arms around you

You found her in her office, and immediately broke down in her arms from the stress. Gently, Bela guides you on her lap, her arms around you and her head against yours

Gently, she moves your head to allow it to rest on her chest. The low buzzing of her flies helps calm you again, and she can’t help but smile when you gently poke one of the insects that strayed loose from where her cloak should be

She allows herself a soft moment of peace as she lets the insect wander over your hand, tickling you and pulling precious laughter from you, before it settles on your shoulder

She takes notice of the topic of age regression at the front of her mind now, urging her to let out her thoughts and ask you already

Still- what if you hate her for it? What if you think her a freak? What if she adds more stress to your pile?

Only when she glances into your teary eyes do the thoughts let up. She just wants to comfort you

And she really wants to comfort you in such a motherly, caring manner. She wants to be your mama, your mommy, so very bad. To protect you and look after you

Gently, she takes your hand in hers. She smiles a little at the feeling of your smaller, shorter fingers against her own gloved ones

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, little one…”, she trails off, yet is quick to press a reassuring kiss to your forehead when you immediately begin to worry whether you’ve done something wrong

“I-…”- she has no idea how to phrase it at first, before she eventually settles on boldness

“Have you heard of age regression?”, she asks, unsure how else to bring this up. You shake your head at her, silently, eyes curious. Your stress is already forgotten again, and your tears are long dry again. She’s so calming, so sweet and relaxing. Having her arms around you means being home

Cautiously, Bela begins to explain. She tries not to speak too fast, sound too nervous, or ramble all that much

She tells you of wanting to take care of you, wanting to be a mother figure, in a way. She tells you she hopes it will relieve some of your stress, and you know she speaks truly

As she admits she would like to treat you as one would treat a very young toddler or so, and she would like to be your caregiver, a mama or mommy, your cheeks flush a little

The idea certainly sounds tempting enough

To let go, to not worry about this and that, chores and your work, mean staff members and duties, your future and the present. To focus only on Bela, to go back to a time of limitless joy and relaxation, happiness and comfort

To have her there with you

Still, you’re a little worried- Bela is your girlfriend. You don’t want to lose that. You love her so much, in so many ways

Upon voicing these complains however, she reassures you. She promises, it doesn’t have to change lest you want it to

She assures the two of you; you can split it, times of being her little one, times of being her partner. Being tiny to calm down after a long day and allow her to take care of you, a small relaxation between the two of you before both of you return to how days normally go. Times of spending hours together colouring or cuddling, nursing and reading storybooks

Bela smiles widely when you accept, your gaze softening a little bit already. She can’t help but purr happily, her arms tightening around you for a moment

“You’re my precious baby, sweetheart. And Mama isn’t going to let anybody hurt you”, she promises with a small kiss pressed between your eyebrows. You smile widely and sigh in contentment. You feel relaxed in her arms, like the awful day you’ve had can’t reach you at all

When you go to talk, she gently shushes you with a finger to your lips. “There’s no need to talk yet, little one. Mama promises to take care of you”, she coos, and again you only smile widely. Your gaze softens some more, your shoulders slack a little. You no longer feel as tense

You can’t help but let out a squeak of surprise when she easily lifts you, your legs on either side of her hips and one of her hands supporting your bottom to keep you lifted, the other holding onto your back and rubbing it gently and soothingly

For a moment, you almost think you’re going to doze off in her arms. Your head rests against her neck and her hair tickles your nose a little. She smells so good, it makes you feel completely at ease

Her gentle pats and small kisses to the side of your head make you grin a little. Surely she can’t fault you for closing your eyes? You won’t fall asleep, surely. You’re merely resting your eyes

Not long before you know it, you find yourself in her room, your uncomfortable work uniform taken and replaced by your favourite, comfortable shirt and trousers

Her arm is still around you, and you notice you’re in her bed with her now, wrapped up in blankets. Her free hand holds a book she’s been reading, and she giggles when you whine to see it

You can’t really explain it, but you just don’t feel like talking. It’s all so comfortable and warm, you feel that even if you opened your mouth, no words would follow. And you’re perfectly fine with that. Mama will take care of it all, and you know she doesn’t need words to understand you

Alas, Bela lifts the book with a gentle smile. She reads the title to you when you tilt your head, and giggles at your adorable, bored huff when it turns out to be a book about plants. You were kind of hoping for a storybook or so

She’s about to ask whether you slept well when a small growl interrupts her. With a small giggle, she tickles your growling tummy. Again, this brings laughter from you. Bela thinks it’s the most precious and rewarding sound

“I think someone’s hungry, hm?”, she coos, her fingertip lightly booping your nose. She can’t help but chuckle a little when it makes you go cross eyed for a second, before her finger pulls back again

You only nod, wide eyes staring up at the blonde woman. You’re enjoying this so much, you can’t help but want more

Bela gasps in surprise when you move your head and she feels you push up against her breast. Again and again, whining over and over again. When you also bring her hand to your stomach, she understands

You want to nurse!

With a small sigh, she pulls you properly on her lap and bounces her leg gently. While she would love to provide you with milk already, it will have to wait for another time. She is sure, the duke can sell her supplements that allow her to feed you properly in no time

Bela smiles down at you warmly, her gentle fingers in your hair, scratching your scalp and her other hand patting your back carefully

You allow her to move you, and giggle with carefree joy as she moves to cradle you instead

She is always so sweet with you, so careful. You couldn’t have asked for a better mommy, and in return, Bela couldn’t have asked for a more perfect little one

In time, both of you have a beautiful dynamic figured out, separating the times of your regressed self, and the times of being in a relationship with Bela. No hand holding, no kisses, no sex had to be sacrificed, and in return no innocent kisses, pats, giggles and cuddles and bonding activities were let out

One, however, has been missing. One both of you are itching to try: nursing. While often suckling her breasts when you feel little merely to use them as a pacifier, or perhaps for comfort reasons even, no milk has yet dribbled out your blonde

With supplements and a healthy diet, however, Bela one day feels the prickling in her breasts. And, at the same time, the nearly painful ache in them. They feel far too full, too big and full of milk that needs to be drained

As she pulls down her dress enough to expose her chest, you all too eagerly latch on. The pacifier falls from your lips when you open your mouth, instead caught by your mama as you latch on all too happily

Still, when you suck this time, you and Bela gasp. A little bit of milk came out, sweet and warm, and dripped into your mouth. You’re ecstatic! Just when you got hungry too!

She nearly groans in relief at the feeling of this tension, this ache, lessening. Still, when you suckle fast and eagerly, she gently lifts a hand to the back of your head. “Careful, little one. Slow down or you might get yourself a tummy ache, baby”, she coos, and smiles again when you do as you’re told, albeit whining a little

She nearly cries as you keep suckling fondly, her fingertip stroking your soft cheek when you close your eyes and keep drinking. She’s beginning to feel a little sore, but doesn’t pay it any mind. This moment is indescribable to her

To be this close to you, to have such a connection with you. She is at last able to provide for you like this too

While normally spoon feeding you and having a lot of fun playing games as you eat, it doesn’t compare to the feeling of being able to nurture you with milk produced by her body

In return, it makes you feel even smaller and littler than you already do. You babble to yourself, slurry words about how happy you are, little hums and excited kicks of your leg

Bela’s eyes snap to you when you whine. She hisses a little, feeling incredibly sore already, when you suck harder, yet little milk drips out. Yet, of course your mama knows what to do. She allows you to suck a few moments longer, gently now that her breast seems more of a paci for you again. A little rest for your stomach, before you can keep drinking. She knows, you haven’t had nearly enough to eat or drink yet, having insisted you want to bathe and play and throwing a little bit of a tantrum that was shut down by a pacifier

After a few moments, she gently makes you unlatch and guides you to her other nipple that, even without your input, leaks a little bit of milk already

You squeal in joy as you notice this, and it makes her heart ache happily. Again, you latch on eagerly, drinking slowly like your mama has instructed, yet eagerly. She can’t help but gasp happily when your eyes open and you look up at her

There is a moment where both of you see the unconditional love and care, appreciation and happiness in each other’s eyes. Bela smiles down at you, and as her arms wrap around you and her warm milk soothes your throat, you begin to feel tired

As your eyes sleep shut and you suckle eagerly, you still feel drops of milk on your tongue, and fall asleep with a happy smile as you suckle

#cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu

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beardedjoel · 1 month ago

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smother is everything! i found it when looking through tags on tumblr. i'd been reading fics on ao3 and was oblivious to the fact all these authors and fics i read are also on tumblr! started it last week. would have finished it much much much sooner if not for life things but i swear when i tell you i ate it up so quickkkkkk, like was so hard to not just finish in one sitting. i will need to re-read again to hold me over and also to dig into the scenes more too! not a lot of people out here doing what you're doing and doing it this goddamn well!!!!!!! i was wondering what your favorite part to write was, or your favorite scene? apologies if this has already been answered elsewhere!

i can't decide what my favorite chapter is but there are a million moments i love in this fic, even less ~big~ ones, simple things like joel feeding blossom bread and cheese in pt 2 and she asks why he hasn't hurt her yet too was so precious to me or basically any of the times blossom feels pretty, like when she's putting on the clothes he's picked out for her for the very first time, or feels like she wants to be sexy (all those types of moments are so endearing and in my head i'm like, i get it girl). these are just some small things that come to mind but there are a million more moments i love - can't wait to reread and rediscover them. also the one shots of them are mindblowing. satin is the sweetest thing i've ever read, and polaroid is so fucking hot and lowkey a commentary on kinks lol. i was also curious if you have any other series planned for when this one is wrapped up too?? no worries if you do not divulge these details! i will be very sad when smother is done but so glad i came across it.

helloooo!

thank you so much for reading, i'm really glad you ended up finding my story and sent this thoughtful message. omg where to even begin? i would say my favorite parts to write have been 8 and 11! in pt 8 i really enjoyed writing the cuter stuff between them with the reading and her getting so comfortable with things, kind of trying to imagine more finally what their day to day life together would look like! and pt 11 i found powerful to write. i really was proud of the emotion i drew out of the chapter even if it broke my heart a little bit. i feel like i have a favorite scene from each part though honestly!

also, agreed with you - there are sooo many small moments between them - the getting drunk, the haircut, joel cooking for her, picking the outfits like you said, all their intimate moments, OMG HIM PAINTING HER NAILS LIKE... there are just so many good moments between them that i still love so much.

and the polaroid one shot is definitely up there for favorite things i've written for them. and tbh, i never even think i meant for it to be a commentary on kink but because it came from a genuine place of how i feel about the subject it really does read like one towards the end there, which i love! 😋

as for future series i don't want to promise too much because i'm a very slow writer, but i maybe have a few random one shot ideas and a sugar daddy!joel series i have had rolling around in my brain since like way earlier this year! and definitely some smother one shots if things keep coming to mind once the main storyline is done.

okay anywayyyys, ty if you read this far! and thanks for all the fun questions and commentary! 💗

#ask #fic: smother

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meimi-haneoka · 1 year ago

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I am so sorry about the delayed response. Real life stuff happened. And thank you so much! *Blushing* I am glad that I could take your mind off things even if temporarily. I hope things get better soon. I really enjoy asking you things. Most people I know are not into CCS even if they are into anime and that really sucks. I actually came across a post of yours quite incidentally (the Chocomint one - I am in Team Chocomint out there with Sakura and Tomoyo, hehe) and then fell into reading a bunch of your other posts. And then I sent you my first ask and of course, there's that. Thank you so much again for the long responses. On a second note, can I just fangirl over how Syaoran thinks Sakura is cute. Like we knew he was smitten by Sakura's personality but I wholly appreciate the way Syaoran appreciates Sakura's beauty. The one scene where Sakura and Syaoran were on a second date to the botanical garden is so cute. It's almost as though he couldn't stop drinking in his girlfriend's beauty. And then his eyes softens in such a warm way once she expresses her desire to talk to him more. *Fangirls so hard*. Furthermore, you are right about the protected environment that CLAMP created for CCS. I love it because I always felt uncomfortable with overt depictions of sexuality (Let's be honest, most anime do a very poor job of handling consent and burgeoning adolescent sexuality). I come from a more conservative non-PDA Asian culture and I always felt uncomfortable with the way sexuality or intimacy were treated as jokes and punchlines. Frankly, I am of opinion that while sexuality does exist in CCS (there are far too many sleepovers at Yukito's place involving Touya and remarkable number of mentions of it), there just accorded the dignity and respect of privacy. Touya and Yukito are not used as punchlines or jokes to embarass the protagonist (or themselves) walking in on them in one of their more intimate moments. Like it exists in the CCS world but it is none of our business what these precious couples choose to do in their more intimate moments. Those moments are theirs and theirs alone to experience and cherish and I love that about CCS. For course, given the childlike gaze of CCS, it is quite understandable that CCS treats sexuality the way children do - they know something exists but they are not old enough to discern it. I really appreciate it. And I agree on that with you.

Aaaand now it's my turn to apologize because I did finish the new fanart, but I always need a couple of days of "rest" after I did one cause this stuff drains me emotionally and mentally 😅 I really use it as a way to vent and release feels...I kinda feel like Akiho these days, to be honest. Anyway! Please know that you can take all the time you need if you want to send a reply, I am very well aware of how much RL stuff takes the priority over fandom stuff!

YAAAASS another comrade, high-five chocomint lover!! 😆 I'm curious about the chocomint post you saw cause I can't remember what I was talking about in it (I even tried to search for it and didn't come up with anything) 😆

Yes, seeing Syaoran appreciating openly Sakura's cuteness is really great to see, I think when they let us peek into his mind and heard him thinking, no, screaming in his head "She's so cute!!!!" in chapter 47, that was the peak for the SyaoSaku fandom 😆 He adores her smile and he's completely dependent on it! From an external POV it might seem trivial, nothing big about a young boyfriend commenting "cute" about his young girlfriend in his head, but I actually think it was a way from CLAMP to let us gently accustomed to the idea that Syaoran is growing up, and so he's starting to appreciate Sakura on multiple levels, if you know what I mean. Not big things yet but, you know...we're getting there, he's a teenager after all!

And I really like how you exposed the whole matter about sexuality in CCS. I absolutely think that the multiple "sleepovers" (at this point it almost seems like Touya moved in with Yukito for how often he stops by his home for the night) are definitely the strongest indication of the intimacy that there is between those two: as you said, they could be doing things, or even just enjoying the intimacy of sleeping together in the same room, we don't know and it's none of our business frankly. Because the story is trying to convey the feelings those two have for eachother through other aspects, other lens, not through how overt their expressions of affection are in public. That's why I shake my head everytime I find opinions like "I wish there was a kiss or a more explicit declaration of what Touyuki feel for eachother" cause that's not the flavor of this series at all. That's not how any of the characters express their love for eachother (and that's maybe what I meant when I said that "all characters receive the same treatment, kids and grown ups", and didn't express properly). If there's one thing I've understood about CLAMP, is that they're pretty averse to boxing their characters into definitions and customs....so they don't give precise definitions of what their characters are, what they do, you have to immerse yourself into their stories and infer those things from what the characters experience. Touyuki is not my main ship but I kinda get peeved when I see statements that diminish or invalidate their relationship, cause I think they're absolutely valid as they are!

And yes, I'm pretty sure CLAMP chose this approach because of the child gaze, but I also think that resonates with their personal views about relationships.

#reply #ccsakura

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siennafrxst · 1 year ago

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↳ a drunken night 𖤐𓈒࣪₊˚

(part 2; version 2)

if you haven’t read chapter 1, click here.

if you haven’t read the other version of chapter 2, click here.

word count: 0.7k words

Knock. Knock. Knock.

As Y/N was drying her hair with a towel, she turns to the sudden disturbance coming from behind the door.

“Come in,” she announces loudly for the other person to be able to hear.

The door immediately swings open, revealing the person hiding behind it.

“Seb, hey,” Y/N greeted, a hint of slight surpise in her tone.

It seemed as though he had just gotten out of bed and put on a quick attire, due to his messy brown curls and groggy features. Goddamnit, why did he have to look so cute like this?

“Hey,” he greeted back, closing the door behind him.

Snapping herself out of her absurd thoughts before being managed to get caught for staring, she connects her eyes with his. The two shared an intimate moment of staring, both seeming to be hesitating to say the same desired words.

Do you remember last night?

“Uhm, how’s your hangover? Are you feeling okay?” she quickly asked to fill in the awkward silence.

Sebastian sighs heavily in exhaust. “S’okay. I mean, better than it was when I woke up, at least.”

She nodded in agreement, offering a soft smile at the man.

Sebastian brought a hand behind his neck before speaking up once more. “Uhm, about last night…”

Y/N gulped nervously as she heard those words. What if he still remembered..?

“Thank you for taking care of me, I’m sure that I was a load to deal with.”

She chuckled in an attempt to hide her sigh of relief. “Of course. I��m here for you, Seb.”

He returned a sheepish smile at his best friend as a sign of gratitude.

And then it was silent yet again. The atmosphere was filled with hope for something more to happen and fear of losing something they already have. Both were just wishing that the hope was more dominant than the fear. Yet neither of them spoke up. This went on for a few more precious seconds before Sebastian made a move. But not what you would expect.

“Well, I just wanted to check up on you. Thanks again, Y/N.”

Her heart dropped in absolute disappointment. She didn’t know that she would feel this much pain upon never talking about last night. It was more than just curiosity, it was also regret but... why? And that was when it hit her.

She loves him.

"Seb, wait! Wait."

Upon hearing her call for him, Sebastian turns around to spot Y/N’s agitated expressions.

"Yeah?" he questioned, despite knowing what she was about to say. They both knew what was bound to happen.

"I... do you remember what you said last night?" she breathed softly, almost cracking her voice.

Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He closed it again and paused for a while before giving in to the temptation. "I do," he replies gently.

Those words might have hurt more than what she felt just a few seconds ago. "Then why didn't you say anything?"

Sebastian scoffed. "You hesitated too."

"But at least I spoke up, it's not as easy as you-" She pauses for a moment to recollect herself, preventing from lashing out. "Look, I just needed to know if that was the drunk you talking or if that was... you know, you."

Seeming to hesitate, he sharply inhales before his eyes trailed towards Y/N’s e/c ones. Time seemed to have stopped, but in reality, this moment of eye contact only lasted for mere seconds. But for them, it was as though everything surrounding them seemed to have faded into view, blurring itself out of the picture. Their gazes were fixated on one another, not letting go of this dangerously precious moment.

Y/N has never felt this way for her best friend—it had conflicted her inner thoughts more than she’d like to admit. But in that singular moment, all of her worries and doubts seemed to have washed away from her mind so easily. It was all she needed to confirm the question that had been plaguing her thoughts like a disease.

Was this love?

But now, all she could do was await his response, her mind dreading the possible outcomes of this seemingly forever lasting moment.

Then finally, Sebastian spoke.

…

“It was me. I said those things. And I meant it.”

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the-queerview · 9 months ago

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Dahomey, 2024

by Mati Diop

I know its been a while my dear readers, I was again in a hole, binge watching k drama and oh yeah the Berlinale happened. Unfortunately the Berlinale fucked up twice, first by inviting the AFD- Nazi Party to the Filmfestival and a second time by fascist treatment of a the Israeli journalist Yuval Abraham and Palestinian filmmaker Basel Adra after their film 'No Other Land' won the a price for the Panorama Audience Award for Best Documentary Film... WHHHHHYYYYY Germany so disappointing. So yeah I was digging myself under my blanket or working in the library with a friend on my non existent art practice, but I made it to one film at the Berlinale. As a low budget filmmaker myself, I know how hard it is for filmmakers to get funding or places, where their films are shown, so I feel for those ones, who were selected, since its an international film festival and to quote here one my old philosophy professors: more language means more world. I wanna see and learn and cherish and cry and be angry and devastated and touched. the world of film is sharing ideas trough images. And its a dangerous but also precious gift.

Anyways, we start with a documentary I saw there by Mati Diop, titled " Dahomey". Mati Diop won as the first african female director the grand price at Cannes for her Film "Atlantique" in 2019. The film has actually 3 entities. It's a documentary showing the return of 26 Benin bronce treasures from the Kingdom of Dahomey to Benin. The first entity is the ghosts Voice of the treasure, they are speaking to us, to the audience, sharing their thoughts and their disconnect to their homecountry as well as their transportation back. The voice is written and spoken by Makenzy Orcel, a haitian writer. The transportation to their The second entity is the bureaucratic reality. we see the art historians and their helpers, checking and packing the works for the transportation by plane from France. We see how cautious they are and tbh I got scared for the works and would probably shit my pants, If I was responsible for taking care of this important treasure. one of my favorite scenes was when the chef of the return operation put a little fine string on a details of the benin sculpture for the transport. The little Detail. The third entity is the arrival in Abomey, Benin and the building of a museum for the works, which is also accompanied by student meetings, where they discuss what this return means and how come from the 7000 stolen treasures only 26 get back, and how do you deal with something that was stolen from you and suddenly comes back partly, how does artworks that also serve a religious purpose and become part of your identification with a place or a nation affect you? Also what does it mean to learn about french art history but not about your own, since it was stolen by colonizers? Those are just examples, the conversations went on.

There were moments, when Mati Diop showed the very intimate moment, like the first time, visitors could see the treasures in the new museum and their reaction. The first night of the sculptures is accompanied by the ghost voice of them talking again to us in the Museum and their reflection on it.

What I liked about the film is, that you as a viewer, are enganged in a conversation, you listen to the sculpture and therefor in this film, the sculpture becomes a real person, with feelings and fear and depth, you also listen to the human world, you observe what they are doing, and you observe how they talk about you, what they feel when they look at you. Therefor I consider this film genius so longer I think about it. Its a documentary but its magical. The film was not made in the perspective for us, the film is made out of the perspective of the ghost of the sculptures, looking into their future and in our present.

I barely know stuff about yorubian folktales, but I read once this amazing book by nigerian novelist Amos Tutuola "my life in the bush of ghosts", where he was inspired by yorubian folktales he grew up in, and some of the ghosts there, there are a looot of ghosts in the book, that have this animal heads, and when I saw the Benin treasures in the film, of the kings, with the animal heads and I thought about the ghosts in the book, I was very touched, since they also say in the film: The heads of the sculptures are depicted as one of the animals. you become a sculpture when you die, but you are not allowed to see it. when you lived a good life, they will make a sculpture of you, but you cant see it, or you will be cursed.

Besides I really recommend you guys to read at some point in your life " my life in the bush of ghosts", if you are interested of course.

I don't wanna spoiler to hard here, since the film will be released in theaters in September, but I highly recommend you to go and see it in a cinema, not at home, if its possible for you and affordable in any way, I know many people having a hard time rn.

Also this is my personal opinion, but yeah this world will be cursed forever, if all the countries wont get back their stolen treasures and art. Also Reparation payments must be done basically for eternity. I hope some important asshole watched the film and will realize that even if you were not alive when the bad things happen, if you are in a power position and have access to make decision, recognize your responsibility to create acts of apology and give the stolen things back and support.

in this words,

take care my readers

the queerview

#art house #documentary #mati diop #dahomey #benin republic #berlinale #film critique #treasure #female directed films #female filmmakers

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ariespellz · 2 years ago

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hand holding hcs !!

ft. genshin guys + gn!reader

includes: ayato, gorou, venti, kazuha, heizou, tighnari, dainsleif.

one, two, three.

cw: fluff, established relationship, some parts might be longer than others, alcohol mentions in venti's, a bit suggestive in venti's if you squint, i can't write tighnari to save my life, spoilers in dain's (?) and mostly very full of speculation:')

A/N: THIS TOOK SO LONG.. BUT HERE IT IS LOL. i might not be doing anything this long w this many characters ever again :')) maybe the third part as the last and thats it lol. ANYWAY SORRY!!! I HAD THE WORST WRITERS BLOCK EVERR AND I BEGAN CLASS AGAIN :((

AYATO

either the king of hand holding or the worst one on the list.

choose your fighter.

his hands are SOOO soft. he hasn't picked up a single sword without gloves since was like, five.

or anything, for that matter

also slender, bony and long fingers?? really pretty nails??

phew rich kids i swear

as stated before, he can be super sweet and intimate, intertwining your fingers with care

or he'll practically drag you by your wrist. not even in a mean way just,,

yeah

he probably has no idea what he's doing. he has no reference on what to do or on how to behave aside from the cheesy romance novels ayaka likes to read.

no parents or parent-like figures in his life, and (i assume) barely any physical affection with his sister, as much as they love each other.

that's why he craves it in some way. probably

PDA is not for him. at all.

he's a very private person who dislikes public appearances

so holding hands while walking around the city would happen every once in a blue moon.

HOWEVER!!!

it's cool if you're alone

more than cool, in fact

he likes it a lot. when he has free time he takes you in quiet dates throughout inazuma's nature

in those moments he sometimes moves your hand to his lips and kisses the knuckles <33

it's so gentle and sweet, and sometimes he'll whisper praises too

"you're so precious, my love."

UGHH blushing and giggling and kicking my feet in the air rn

and oh god poor thoma. they guy is always the one to find you two.

"my lord, an officer is waiting to..." he trails off after seeing you in his lap while he worked on paperwork, his free hand stroking yours. you giddily wave to him as a greeting, and he returns the gesture with a nod and a friendly smile of his own. "...right. i'll tell him to come back later. sorry for the interruption!"

you two are lucky he's so used to it.

unfortunately, he's not always the one who catches you.

if your footsteps are soft and your ears are open, you can hear some of the maids gossip about you two.

"oh, they're so lovely! did you hear the rumours?" "about the picnic? yeah! mei told me they were cuddling! can you picture that?" "yeah! lord kamisato's totally smitten!"

it always makes you smile.

as inexperienced as he was when it came to physical affection, he was the first one to hold your hand.

ayaka had told him that "it would give you butterflies".

you BET she was right like-

a fish out of the water is the closest comparison of how your heart was pounding

although inexperienced, ayato is a natural-born romantic. he's sitting in front of you in some expensive restaurant, candles and roses and a private room (just for you two of you, just like he likes it). he's as nervous as you, if not more. this is your first official date!

remembering what ayaka said, his right hand approached yours, in a slightly shy way. "may i?" he murmurs, brushing his digits over yours.

"sure!" you answer, voice meek and an octave higher than usual.

he finds your enthusiasm funny

in a good way

in conclusion, he's not as slick as he'd like to be lol

half the estate has seen you two. the other half is patiently waiting their turn.

over time, he gets more used to it. no more dragging you, no more grasp that's barely there, just,, a normal hold.

a sweet one tho<3

GOROU

physical touch is not his love language

but he doesn't dislike it!! he'll do it if you're into it!!

he's really soft about it and you can see his tail wagging happily hehshdhdhsjsj<3

he's a very assertive man and a good (but somehow strict?) general, so his subordinates never get used to see you two interact ESPECIALLY when it comes to affection

gorou: *has your hand in his*

troops passing by: *😲*

you change him i'm telling you

he's pretty good at separating his work and personal life, so expect the affection to be more common in private

hand holding is not his forte nor his preferred way of showing physical affection, but he'll still get flustered from it

"the supplies are to be sent to the sangonomiya shrine. that is our main objective right now." he says, voice stern. his body, however, betrays him once you reach out to grab his hand. his ears flop immediately and his tail swings rapidly from side to side, cheeks starting to turn pink. you can't help but giggle when his eyes flicker between you and his subordinates, full of nerves.

"we saw nothing, sir," one of them says, clearly biting back a smile. "your orders will be followed immediately." he bows and leaves hurriedly.

they still talk about that to this day.

his hands are average size. not super tiny, but definitely smaller than ayato's or dainsleif's (side note: just noticed this applies to every guy in this post except those two and pantalone lmao).

his palms are a bit rough and he has some scratches here and there, but he makes sure his nails are clean and decent.

hald holding with him (ironically enough) isn't that common

you were the one to do it for the first time.

you guys weren't even dating (yet) and you were pinning hard

so after bribing some of his underlings with cookies, you managed to get them to do part of his work (and also get him to relax for an afternoon)

((with you, or course.))

(((the soldiers knew their boss had been crusing on you for centuries, so it was a win-win situation for them)))

sitting on a cliff, watching the scenery. beautiful pastel tones mixed with the pink hue of the sky in the sunset. he was next to you, eyes set on the horizon somehow looking unfocused. the golden light adorned his beautiful features, and you wanted nothing more than to embrace him and never let go.

you knew, however, that you had to be careful. you could've chosen the safest option and shut your mouth, like you always did. but no, not today.

with that in mind, you slowly place you palm in his hand. his ears immediatelly perk up as he looks at you, not bothering to pull away.

"i like you. a lot. and, uh, i'm just happy i can be here with you." you cough out in the spur of the moment. his eyes widen like coins and his tail straightens. he chokes a bit with his words, coming up with nothing to say.

it was a it awkward, really. you had your eyes fixed in the place your skin touched with his, refusing to adress his burning stare. regret filled your gut, and you tried to pull away, ready to stand up and go home to cry under the covers.

but a hand grasping your wrist stops you.

he looks like a deer in headlights, eyes gleaming and face redder than ever.

five words come out of his mouth, faster than any others he has ever muttered:

"are you free on sunday?"

VENTI

ah, venti...

he'd use handcuffs to chain you two together if he could.

he is very much a PDA guy. has no shame.

worth it tho because his hands are illegally soft. like cotton.

and his fingers are slender and delicate.

oh and there was no special "first time holding hands!!! exciting!!!!" moment

because guess who got touchy right after figuring his feelings out?

you guessed it! him!!

he snaked an arm around your waist, holding you close, and intertwined your fingers with his. it would have been romantic (and kinda hot, even) if it wasn't for the fact that the poor, poor honorary knight had to physically separate him from you so he would go home already.

"oh, love, one has never seen such beauty. never in thousands of years has a flowery field or a sunset in the ocean compared to your endless eyes." he recites close to your neck, hot breath fanning on your skin making a shiver run down your spine. aside from the fact that you have literally no idea what he means by thousands of years, his lidded orbs boring into yours don't help. "i would become a sailor if it meant that i could spend my life navigating in the ocean of your eyes. would you let me drown in them?"

"i don't get paid enough for this." the blonde mutters, secretly envying the fact that paimon was already sleeping.

"me neither." you say in return with an awkward laugh, wishing that the darkness covered your blush.

he gets a bit poetic after a couple of bottles, what can i say.

diluc always stares at you when you have to go pick him up from the tavern

you swear that's pity flooding his usually soulless eyes

you have the anemo archon wrapped around your finger

quite the accomplishment, if you were to ask me

he's all over you. especially (but not exclusively) when he's tipsy, or (god forbid) drunk.

oh yeah baby

DRUNK.

he gets on top of some table, requests the lights to be dimmed, and pulls out his lyre

and starts to sing the cheesiest song you have ever heard

(even the ever-so-cold sister rosaria smiles at the spectacle full of amusement)

"oooooh, babe, i want nothing but youuuu!" kaeya sings the chorus with slurred words and broken laughs (ironic, considering he's usually the sad drunk) as the others clap along. some guys have gotten up and started dancing.

"do something!" you plead charles, but he just laughs even louder at your desperation. you frown and bite your lips so you don't start doing the same. "for fucks sake, venti! get off there, its three in the morning!"

"why do you have to be so cruuuuel???" he sings in a cry, full of emotion. dropping to his knees in a dramatic way, he tugs at your arm to pull you closer. and right then and there, he stops singing abruptly. "i love you. i love you so, so much." his eyes water and your breath hitches. suddenly serious, his flushed cheeks have your heart doing flips. "you're gorgeous, (y/n). i wish you'd let me stare at you all day. you're the only thing i think about. i want to tell you- no. i need to tell you-"

at that moment, the door slammed open.

"you again?" diluc groaned. everything went silent except for kaeya, who greeted him excitedly, making his way to him in big stomps. noticing this, the redhead sighs tiredly. "show's over, everyone. we're closing for the night."

the drunkards groaned the first time this happened, but because of it repeating every month, they've gotten used to it.

the guy has the patience of a saint, you note.

"let's go home, then," you always say with a kiss to his cheek "you tone-deaf bard."

KAZUHA

out of context but this guy invented chivalry

no i will not give any further explanations

he'll hold your hand like he gets paid for it. so enthused about it.

unlike the three messed up people (lovingly) above, this one does the thumb rubbing thing!! (hooray i guess)

his hands are probably rough considering he uses a katana without gloves/is literally a wanderer. but. i can't picture it. let a woman dream.

OH AND HE'LL TAKE HIS BANDAGE OFF IN PRIVATE IF YOU ASK HIM TO <3

just imagine it aaaaa

he stares at you in pure disbelief EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU ASK

LIKE NO KAZUHA THE BURN MARKS ARE NOT UGLY

and when you tell him that he blushes aahhzhsgzwkshjsjs

still! he's very shy about it (oddly enough) so he will only do it if you've been together for more than, let's say, 6 months?? maybe??

he'll slowly unwraps the cloth, cheeks slightly flushed (as always). it's constant, really; he doesn't falter but he doesn't speed up.

that is, until he comes to a stop. right above the mark.

"kazu," you call. he looks at you through his lashes, full of... embarrassment? "you don't have to if you don't feel like it. but... that's not the case, is it?"

he looks so out of character, gulping and avoiding your gaze. he breathes and tries to say something, but he stops himself and stares at his lap.

"look at me, love." you request, placing your palm on his cheek. "you don't need to hide yourself. you're beautiful."

he stammers a compliment and looks away, clearly flustered by the affection

how cute

those times are when you get to see him timid

no one will believe you, but he's the clingy one

hands on your shoulders, on your hips, waist, face, thighs, and most importantly, on your hands.

the first time you held hands, he was the one initiating the contact

you weren't dating, or even close

that was the day you started crushing on him

wether you were a fellow pirate in the crux fleet or just some person travelling with them on one (1) time makes no difference

the storm unravelling in front of you could terrify anyone

you were, of course, no exception

captain beidou's loud voice, commanding the last preparations before seeking shelter

the loud crackling of thunder, and the constant crash of the waves

the raindrops which fell like knives, making a sound similar to bullets when they hit the wooden floor

the footsteps, your heartbeat, the ropes being pulled

it was just too much

breath quickening, you tried to calm down. teardrops were beginning to form on your eyes but you didn't allow yourself to cry.

it'd be downright embarrassing, considering that everyone else seemed to be taking the situation with cold precision

and oh, fuck, your hands and legs were trembling like jelly

you heard beidou yell something in your direction, and next thing you knew, someone was pulling you inside to the hold.

"it's okay. you're safe now." kazuha's gentle voice lulls you. he's gently grasping your hands in his, rubbing comforting patterns in your skin. you curl up, fingers tightening as the ship rocks violently. you silently thank him when he doesn't pull away or swats you off, opting to huddle closer to you instead. his warmth makes your muscles relax slightly, and he chuckles lightly at it. "feeling better already? i'm glad."

you had never really talked to kazuha, as he often refrained from taking place in the numerous drinking competitions the fleet celebrated on sundays.

(let's just say, that changed in the future)

crimson orbs meet yours when you choose to face the man, and suddenly your face has turned into their rival in a fictional challenge.

you thank him again and straighten up, coming back to your senses. you instantly miss his body heat, but you say nothing.

he does not, however, seem to have any intentions of letting your hand go.

HEIZOU

oh dear god

you're in for a ride

you see, he can be the perfect boyfriend

but he can be a little shit too

it depends on how much he'd like to tease you

if he feels like being an asshole, he'll conjoin your hands and swing them exaggeratedly while skipping and maybe even singing a little tune

he makes sure this is in public (unless it's crossing your boundaries), so he can embarrass you a bit

(if you, however, start replicating him, he'll make it progressively more obnoxious until one of you gives up)

((make it be him. please. place your entire body against his arm and bat your eyelashes at him like you're fucking minnie mouse or something. he's officially losing this one.))

"my dear! my everything!" he exclaimed, snaking your hips with one arm and conjoining your hands with the other. he presses kisses on your fingers, green eyes gleaming with mischief, and he finds it hard to fight back a cackle. this would've been funny, cute, ir even romantic, if it wasn't for the bewildered looks of his coworkers.

one dude actually yelled at him to at least do that in his office. once you were there, you questioned his triumphant expression

"ah, there was this boring case they wanted me to solve..." he snickered. "now they won't come into my office and pester me. i guess some other guy will do it."

fucking bastard (adoringly)

his fingers are long and slim, and his knuckles are rough

he literally throws punches as self-defense. no sword, no bow, just his fists.

by this, i imply that at least his knuckles and reverse of his fingers could exfoliate your skin better than any soap.

his palms are softer (not too big of an accomplishment. a three-day-beard could achieve that, too), and rather cold

heizou's preferred form of physical affection isn't hand holding, actually, so he's not too big on it

he makes an exception for the situation mentioned above AND if you're feeling nervous or stressed.

in the second case, he'll be more subtle. he can read you like a book, so he'll save you of any unwanted attention by softly caressing your palm and fingertips.

"it's okay" he whispers. "do you want to get out of here?"

and if you say yes, he'll excuse the both of you and get you some dango milk

he'll have your pinkies intertwined and walk side by side with you. no jokes or teasing remarks.

(he also manages to have the same exact pace as you. sometimes it's a bit hypnotizing to watch.)

oh and btw, you were the one holding his hand the first time

he knew you were smitten

he knew what you wanted

but he still said "hmm let's see what they do"

smirking at you your whole first date like "oooh you wanna kiss me so bad"

(PUNCH HIM. HE WON'T SEE THAT ONE COMING)

and while accompanying you back home, he's waiting patiently for you to make a move.

and of course he notices. he sees the way your hand shifts closer to his, only to pull away a second later. he sees from the corner of his eye the way your chest rises and falls progressively faster. and oh, archons! you're doing it!

you're lifting your hand up, and it's getting closer, and nearer, and omg it's right next to his--

"go on," he says in a teasing manner, breaking the silence. he wears an shit-eating grin as if it was his best suit "you can do it. i don't bite."

you swallow. you consider kicking him and running off, but you had genuinely enjoyed your afternoon and that'd be a waste. so, hesitantly, you did as you had planned.

his hand was warm, and there was no further chat until you arrived.

you were at the doorstep, saying your goodbyes.

"keep going, yeah?" he giggles right before leaving. "i'm expecting a kiss next time!"

"wha-"

it's up to determine wether he got it or not.

TIGHNARI

QODIAHUSBSUSJS AAAAAAA

OKOK HEAR ME OUT

you're a forest ranger too

so you two conveniently go on patrol together

who could've guessed?

even before you dated. consider that as his form of courting.

but but! the moment you two are official tho!!

he'll hold your hand constantly <3

its perfect because he's NOT a pda person. so he has his three favourite things together.

privacy, the forest, and you:)

expect collei to look beyond awkward whenever she catches you two having the slightest moment of physical affection in front of her

she loves you two and is very supportive !! she just does NOT know what to do with herself.

also HOLDING HANDS TO ASSERT DOMINANCE/hj

and by this i mean Very Obviously putting your intertwined hands over the table as you have dinner with cyno and collei

cyno: *🤨*

collei: *small politely and nod yall*

"...what clothes do clouds wear?" cyno reads from his (terrifying) book as you swallow your bite out of your pita pocket. he then proceeds to look straight at tighnari, who is currently two seconds away from jumping out of the window. "thunderwear."

the situation was so weird you couldn't help giggling a bit, covering your face with your free hand. at your side, tighnari's grip became a bit tighter. "unbelievable" he grits his teeth. and at that, you laugh harder.

you teased him for that dumb "jealous" episode for WEEKS. my man wanted to disappear from the face of teyvat.

on another note. his gloves.

they look so squishy idk how to say this.

the pads?? are like a jelly-esque material?? maybe slime condensant or whatever its called

so you can expect his bare hands to be SOFT. AND PRETTY. BECAUSE HE NEVER GOES OUT WITHOUT PROPER PROTECTION.

(as he should)

most likely the best hands in genshin together with albedo and maybe scaramouche?? nah scratch that pantalone must have the best manicure in the world

back on point. his nails are kinda pointy (he is a fox so it is to be expected) so DO NOT ask him to scratch your back. he'll say no anyway but beware.

it'll be more painful than satisfying. does not fully count if you're a masochist.

anyways. he enjoys physical touch wayyy more than he'd like to admit.

hand holding isn't enough he wants you to pet his ears and spoon him (partner privilege what can i say)

tighnari's generally stern disposition was a challenge during the "chase" phase of the relationship. for the both of you.

on the one hand, there were your compliments and your not-so-secret intention to win him over.

on the other hand, he blatantly refused to flirt back, but still managed to flirt back.

you know the difference?

like, never once in a million years would he see his crush and say "you look amazing, darling. are you free tonight?" and wink.

BUT he will say "that shade of green is nice." and oh so conveniently need your help writing some stuff down.

("paperwork. nothing too interesting" he'll say when questioned. "mind your business" is what he means.)

you learn to pick up on it. and he learns to be more bold.

you let him hold your hand the first time.

he's not that fond of physical touch, and you didn't want to cross his boundaries, so you let him take those steps.

it was a warm summer night in sumeru. the kind of warm in which the breeze is pleasant and no jacket is needed.

you were stargazing and pointing out constellations together,

and he just. went for it.

"hold my hand" he said without looking at you. it wasn't that much of a statement, because the softness in his tone made it sound like a suggestion.

a smile appears on your face while your insides tickle, and you feel a bit ridiculous for being so excited over something so simple. "as you wish" you teasingly say, taking hold of his hand.

the lack of light makes it hard to read his expression, or see if he's blushing.

a thousand questions race in your head, mixed with worries and things you'd like to say

all of them dissipate when he interlaces your fingers.

DAINSLEIF

well first of all

he's very,,,

devoted

by which i mean you are his moon and stars

he'll BATHE YOU in affection.

he wouldn't even entertain the idea of dating someone he doesn't trust completely and/or hasn't been with him for a long time

you make him soft lol,,,, use that info however you want

he does the thumb rubbing thing!!! a king fr

ah and he's not taking off his gloves. because of the curse, his skin is probably a bit unsettling to see?

so is yours, considering you share his condition.

he isn't that into physical touch, though. and even less into pda.

so there's three situations in which he holds your hand:

while walking around alone, when you're nervous or scared, and in the intimacy of your home

it's on the quiet days around teyvat that he doesn't wanna let go

it's standing before the enemy, which haunts you two like prey, that he reminds you he would never let go

and it's while sleeping, huddled together, that he holds you close to him and intertwines your fingers<3

like i sad, no pda.

he might make an exception if it's the traveller with you, but uhh not really...???

hes so awkward about it too like-- it can get funny sometimes.

like one time he held you by the waist when you visited stormterror's lair and paimon just commented on it

had he been not so stoic he might have jumped away from you like his instincts yelled

and she didn't even say anything weird. maybe something like "you look good together!" or "huh?! you like him?!"

she adores you so she's very much Confused™ by your taste

give her time she'll get over it

but you get it, really. the picture of dainsleif she has could never compare to yours.

you still remember, all those centuries ago, when you took a leap of faith and pulled him to the dancefloor.

well, not exactly a dancefloor, but more of a 𝒹𝒶𝓃𝒸𝓮𝒻𝓁ℴℴ𝓻 ???

yeah like . elegant.

he was the dainsleif, and you were just. you

i mean babe ur great and all but hes like the strongest (and hottest lets be honest) guy in khaenri'ah. good luck!!

some friends encouraged you. this was a big celebration!! the eclipse dynasty and its descendants rarely ever organized parties. not in their home, at least.

so after months of watching the twilight sword from afar, you finally had a chance (although slim) of approaching him

so you got ready (best clothes, best accesories, and a lengthy skincare session) and when some animated music started to play, it was your chance

"you got this!" your friends said. "yeah, you look stunning! he's saying yes for sure!"

he's talking with some colleagues and the rush of adrenaline slowly leaves you,

but oh no! it's too late. you've made eye contact and he's two meters away from you.

"breathe, calm down" you tell yourself. your steps become wobbly but the resolution doesn't leave your features.

dainsleif looks surprised when you stop in front of him, and the guy he was chatting with (who you recognize as halfdan, one of his most loyal underlings) elbows him with a smile before excusing himself in a teasing tone

"may i help you?" he asks. oh god, his voice always makes your insides tickle. you open and close your mouth before pursuing your lips and speaking in a more... assured tone.

"yes. i was wondering if you'd like to... to dance with me?" you chuckle nervously as dain gapes at you, clearly shocked. "i mean! you probably have better things to do and... you are probably very uncomfortable right now. uh, sorry! i'll just leave-"

"i'd love to" he interrupts with a small smile. "also, you look very beautiful today, (y/n)."

"oh." you beam, holding his wrist gently. "thanks. you, uh, you always look beautiful." as you guide him among the other couples, you swear you can hear some knights cheering.

and the rest is history :')

side note: forgot to mention you were freaking out because "OH MY GOD HE KNOWS MY NAME?? HE KNOWS OF ME EXISTING???? AND HE. SAID. YES??????"

however, with dain, life's not sunshine and rainbows.

he trusts you, of course, and he loves you even more

but he still refuses to ask for comfort. no matter how many times you make him understand your feelings for him, he just doesn't seem to understand a word.

sometimes you face his walls and are struck by a sudden wave of disappointment.

it's not like you want to know every thought and emotion that crosses him, but communication can be hard sometimes.

like when he had jumped into the abyss without a care in the world.

you are angry, of course. you had been sick with worry, crying and pacing and lucky in the few nights you had been able to sleep.

he had (conveniently) reappeared next to the traveler, inside the chasm (or at least that was what he told you). from that point on, the story became more twisted.

but his voice was so groggy as he told you, and his eyes were peering at you with so much tiredness, you couldn't help taking his hands in yours and resting his body against you.

"i'm sorry." he repeated over and over, becoming more desperate each time. lacking the strength to even straighten his back, he barely mustered the energy to slightly squeeze your hands.

"let's rest for a while, yes? i'm just happy that you're back."

he's so grateful for everything you do :(

being with him would be living in a hurt/(no?) comfort fic 24/7 actually lol i kinda wanna cry

being with him takes effort, resilience, and overall, it's hard

though as he links your fingers and his eyes fill with sheer devotion and adoration, you think it's all worth it :')

#☀️.writing #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #ayato x reader #ayato x you #gorou x you #gorou x reader #venti x reader #venti x you #kazuha x you #kazuha x reader #heizou x reader #heizou x you #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #dainsleif x reader #dainsleif x you

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zafirosreverie · 3 years ago

Text

El lugar sin límites (Julieta x Fem!Reader)

Warning: long ass post. Mentions of cheating and death. This will be an age gap story, don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

_______________________

Julieta sighed as she tried to ignore the widening hole in her chest and blocked out her husband's voice as he opened the door. She didn't need Dolores or anyone else to tell her who was visiting them. Since the incident with the candle and the rebuilding of Casita, it was very clear that something had changed in their relationship.

At first, she had been very grateful to the Rodriguez family for letting them stay in their house while they sorted out all the mess they had gotten themselves into, and she had never taken Aurora, the youngest daughter of the family of bakers, very seriously. That was her mistake.

Aurora seemed like a lovely little girl, her voluminous golden curls nicely framing her porcelain face, but there was something in her green eyes, a shadow she hadn't seen at first, a hint of mischief. She was always with them, pretending to help carry things or mix the cement, when in fact she spent her time talking to one person and only one person: Agustín.

Julieta was not a jealous woman by nature, so she took it as mere friendship, after all, the girl had presented herself as a fragile and shy creature (what a fool she had been to fall for her facade) and her husband had been the first to make her laugh and make her feel comfortable, so the brunette hadn't thought ill of them. Until the laughter became whispers, the looks became complicit and the touches more and more intimate.

The change was subtle, but all too obvious to her, who had been married to him for over 20 years. Agustín moved further and further away from the area where they were building, he took longer to get to dinner and found more and more topics to discuss with Aurora while Julieta waited for him in a lonely, strange, and cold bed. She wanted to console herself with the thought that it was temporary, that everything would go back to normal once their house was finished. She would once again be the only woman in her husband's life.

But then, even with the gifts restored, she wasn't able to hold Agustín's attention for long. Perhaps it was because he had known the magic of the Madrigals for a lifetime and it was no stranger to him, or perhaps he found some emerald marbles more beautiful than his wife's brown ones, Julieta didn’t know. But the point was, no, things weren't back to normal.

On the contrary, they only got worse. Because Aurora showed up at their door two days after they moved back, with the excuse of missing everyone. Her mother had been kind enough to invite her to dinner and the girl had taken that as an invitation to stay permanently because she kept coming back. Every day, at the most inopportune time. She would always come asking for Agustín, with that smile that at first seemed friendly, but now dripped with poison and bitter honey. And Julieta had to witness how her husband slipped through her fingers, in her own house!

"Mom" Mirabel said carefully, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Julieta hadn't realized that she had the fret sponge in a death grip. She quickly tried to put on a polite smile as she turned to her daughters and niece, but she knew it had no point. They knew it. They had known it from the first moment, perhaps even before she herself.

"Yes, mi amor?"

“Please” Mirabel said pleadingly “please, just…leave him”

The older woman sighed and looked at the ground. This was a conversation she had had many times with her daughters over the past few months, though it was no less painful for that. Her precious Mirabel had been the first to suggest a divorce and although Julieta tried to act surprised by it, the truth was that she had been thinking about it too. Isabela and Dolores had joined Mirabel the next time she suggested it and when even Luisa, the closest of her three girls to her father, had begged her to separate from him, she knew it was serious.

But how could she do it? How could she let go such an important part of her life? That man, however distant he was now, however much he hurt her, had given her the best years of her life and three precious treasures. She couldn't just leave him, no matter how much her love dimmed every day.

"Mirabel-"

"Mom please!" Isabela interrupted her "I can't bear to see that... that... girl" she said seeing her mother's warning look "I can't see that girl anymore in the house"

"It's also your father's house" she reminded them

"Only because of you!" Mirabel said, crossing her arms "if you were divorced, we wouldn't have to see…her, every day"

"And where would your father go?"

“Not our problem”

"Isabela!"

"What? It stopped being our problem the moment he decided to cheat on the goddess I have for a mother."

Julieta tried not to smile too much at her daughter's compliment, but her good humor quickly dissipated. She has really been avoiding that word: cheating. She refused to believe that her husband, the same man who had sworn eternal love to her, would be able to deceive her. She knew it was foolish to cling to hope when obviousness was right in front of her, but as long as Dolores didn't confirm that he had crossed the line, Julieta could give him the benefit of the doubt.

They weren't really doing anything, no kissing, no…more intimate relationships. Nothing. They just went for walks together or to buy things (jewelry that was never for her, from what her niece had told her), so everything was fine, right? There was nothing to complain about. None of the four girls dared to say no, nothing was right. Because it was a matter of time before Agustín crossed that line, and that was something that everyone, Julieta included, knew.

"Mijas, I appreciate the concern" the brunette sighed "but I assure you that everything-"

"Everything is fine" interrupted the four

"Stay in your fantasy world if you want, mom" Mirabel said "but I'm not going to have another dinner with her."

The healer watched as the other three nodded in agreement and the four girls left. She knew they were right, a big part of her also begged her to separate from Agustín, before she got more hurt, to end things cleanly when they could still be friends. But she was terrified of being alone.

Besides, it wasn't like she had much support. Maybe her daughters (because Dolores was definitely her girl too) were on her side, but the rest of her family was not. Aurora had them all eating out of the palm of her hand and if her husband didn't invite her to dinner every night, her sister or brother-in-law, maybe even her mother, would.

"Ay Agustín" she whispered "of all the wounds you could cause me, it had to be the only one I can't heal"

________________________

You stared down the path in front of you, sitting still and straight on your horse Cuervo, a strong, imposing black beauty. Beside you, Asena, one of your wolves, was tense, stalking, waiting for the signal from Atila, her mate, who had moved away to investigate the area.

You had been traveling almost all day. Your hands were red from the reins, your inner thighs burned from the saddle, and your hair was a tangled, dirt-covered mess, but you had refused to ride a carriage. You didn't carry much luggage or anything of value other than your father's ring, there was no point in making a showy parade, no matter how much your mother had insisted.

"My lady!"

You turned to see Miguel and Abel, your two companions and employees of your mother's house, galloping towards you. Thoroughbred though they were, their horses were no match for Cuervo, and you had left them well behind a few minutes ago.

“I told you, Miguel. We are not at my mother's house, call me Y/N”

“Of course” he bowed respectfully “But please don't leave us behind again. Your mother wants you to arrive safely at your destination and your father commissioned us to take care of you”

You felt a stab of pain in your chest at the mention of your father. Part of the reason you agreed to take this trip was because of him. Don Manuel, a brilliant and wealthy historian, was always humble and helpful. He was the light of your life, the one who always guided you on the path of hard work and self-love. He was a loving man, devoted to his family. He loved you and your brother Sergio with all his soul and he had always been concerned with instilling in you the values that he believed were correct. He had a free soul and a sincere heart.

Your mother, a cold woman and more interested in money than in anything else, had always said that you were too much likehim. She said it as intimidation, you took it as the best compliment you could receive from such a horrible woman.

Things weren't always so rocky between you and her, but a few years ago, your family had suffered a terrible loss, one from which your father could never recover and which ended up freezing your mother's little heart: your brother Sergio had tragically died, so small, so innocent. A whole life ahead. That had prompted your father to be doubly protective of you, even though you didn't need it…or so you thought.

The tragedy seemed to have found refuge in your house and just a few years later, it would take Fernando, the only man you would ever love and from whom you now only kept Cuervo. Not satisfied with that, a few months ago, fate decided to hit you once again where it hurt the most and took your father from you, right in front of you. You didn't think you could ever forget the desperate cries from him or the feel of the hot drops splashing on your skin.

That's why you couldn't stay in your hometown. There were too many painful memories. And when Carmen, a woman you had never met in your life but to who you had to give the title of grandmother, had offered you a way out, you had taken it without thinking twice. Yes, it was true that your grandmother's reasons were very different from yours, but that didn't change the result at all: you were far from that place that felt more and more like a cage full of ghosts.

Now, you were headed to a mythical place, one that you only knew from the stories your grandmother had told you when she came back into your life a few months ago.

"My mother wants me to reach the altar even if it's in pieces" you said dryly

You weren't stupid, you knew that Carmen had asked one of her friends to find you a good husband while you lived with them, a desperate move to clear your last name after you broke off your last engagement, and even though you had no intention of getting married, you had agreed quickly if only to get away from that place.

Just then, Atila returned to your side. His body language was serene and without signs of having encountered danger, so without giving your companions a chance to say anything else, you resumed galloping, quickly leaving them behind again.

You passed through the middle of a couple of mountains and the air suddenly changed around you. It seemed cleaner, lighter, almost…magical, and at the foot of the mountains, you could see a picturesque town.

"That must be it" you said to Cuervo "Encanto"

The horse neighed and sped up its run, with the two wolves following behind. It was true that you were running away from the past, but in a very rare attack of optimism, you thought that maybe, here you could find a future too. Who knows, it was one of those things you felt in your bones.

_____________________

"And remember, wait your turn to show your gifts, we don't want to overwhelm the poor girl" Alma said.

The matriarch paced back and forth while her family began to gather at the gates of Casita. It had been a surprise for everyone when the woman had told them that they would have a guest, and although no one protested, they all had questions. She had told them everything that Carmen had say in her letter.

Her dear friend, who had moved out of Encanto a few months ago to look for the son she had left behind when the mountains rose, had written to her a couple of weeks ago to ask for a favor. She had told her that she had found Manuel's family and that he would now be about 60 years old, but that she had arrived late and she had barely managed to make amends with her son when he tragically lost his life.

She had also told her about you, her only granddaughter. Carmen had described you as a beautiful but slightly rebellious young woman who had just made a big mistake that had tarnished the family name, so you couldn't stay in your town until things calmed down.

"She's a good girl, Alma, she just needs to mature" she had written.

And of course, Alma couldn't refuse to help one of her oldest friends, so she gladly agreed to have you in her house and help find you a good match to marry. Besides, if she was honest with herself, she also hoped that a little competition might chase away the terrible being trying to sneak into her family.

She wasn't a fan of that little Aurora girl, and it hurt her that her precious Julieta was suffering because of her. But she also knew that she couldn't do anything if her daughter refused to acknowledge the problem that was right in front of her.

"She's a foolhardy little girl, so we'll all bear with her and help her adjust to the town, okay?" she asked, looking sternly at Aurora, who just turned her face away.

"Yes, abuela" the rest of the family responded in unison.

“I can hear her approaching” Dolores said softly.

"Thank you, my child. So let's go out and greet her"

The Madrigals nodded and left in silence. Julieta tried to ignore the way Aurora clung to Agustin's arm or the way Isabela glared daggers at the blonde. Dolores covered her ears a bit as your horse and wolves approached, and they all gasped as your figure stopped before them.

The truth was that, from what they had heard of Carmen's letter, everyone had imagined that they would receive a shy, pampered girl, bathed in riches and escorted by a large luxury committee, perhaps in an elegant carriage. The snake wrapped around her husband's arm had even made several disparaging comments about how you would surely be a burden. Comments that, it should be noted, only Agustín had found funny.

But oh boy were they wrong.

In front of them was a beautiful and gigantic horse black as night, and at its sides were two enormous and beautiful wolves with gray pleats sprinkled with browns and blacks and eyes shining with wisdom. The three animals looked strong, powerful, and impressive, but even their beauty paled with that of the creature mounted on the saddle. Never in her life had she met a beauty like yours.

Your face was serious but not coarse, and it was healthy and color of youth. Your black dress, while plain and travel-terrified, looked fine, and the few strands that had come loose from your long braid framed your face perfectly. You were an imposing sight that took the breath away of everyone present.

And yet, Julieta couldn't help noticing that there was a shadow of sadness in your beautiful eyes, a deep and raw pain.

You waited for Miguel and Abel to catch up with you to dismount and walk with a firm but not hurried step towards a woman dressed in magenta. You didn't like to assume anything about anyone, but she certainly seemed to be the eldest of your welcoming committee, so she should be your grandmother's friend.

"Sra. Alma?" you asked carefully, bowing respectfully to her.

The matriarch was speechless. Neither your stunning beauty nor your manners and soft voice matched what Carmen had told her, there was nothing in you that screamed immaturity or nonsense and if it weren't for the fact that the color of your skin, eyes, and hair were the same as described in the letter, she would think you were not the girl they were expecting.

Atila and Asena sat on either side of you. Their massive size made their heads slightly below your chest when seated and it was their imposing appearance that seemed to wake up the woman in front of you.

"Sorry dear, where are my manners?" she laughed nervously "you must be Y/N"

You nodded and offered her a polite smile as you shook her hand. The woman seemed to notice the crowd that was beginning to gather to look with curiosity, either because of your peculiar furry friends or because of your beauty that still had the rest of the family speechless, so she quickly invited you inside. Miguel and Abel stayed outside to tie up the horses and give them food and water.

You had to admit that Casa Madrigal was not what you imagined it to be, not in the slightest. From the attitude of your grandmother, you would have thought that you were going straight to a castle (after all, she had said that these people were basically the royalty of the place), but what you were greeted by was a house, which although large, cozy and full of elements that made it feel truly at home. You liked it.

"Now dear, I know you must be tired from your trip" Alma told you, stopping in the middle of the central patio "but there are a couple of things that it is better that you know once and for all"

You nodded and listened carefully. Your grandmother had warned you about the peculiarities of the place, and although at first, it seemed incredible to you that magic existed, you were willing to give it the benefit of the doubt.

“I don't know how much Carmen has told you about this place, and the story is long” she began. You immediately felt a slight change in her voice. It wasn't something she wanted to talk about and you knew it.

"I know about the miracle" you interrupted her politely "And she also mentioned something about some gifts"

Alma smiled at you, grateful that she didn't have to tell absolutely everything that had brought her family up to that point in life.

"Excellent, that saves us a lot of time" she told you before turning to her family "then let me introduce you to the family"

The woman put an arm around your shoulders, in a slightly uncomfortable half-hug but from which you didn't even try to escape. Atila and Asena watched everything carefully, however.

“This is my daughter Pepa and her husband Félix. She controls the weather”

"Nice to meet you" told you a red-haired woman whose trembling hands betrayed her anxiety

"Likewise" you answered politely

"They are her children, Dolores, Camilo, and Antonio" Alma continued

You smiled at a cute brunette girl who looked only a few years younger than you and widened your eyes slightly as the boy next to her quickly changed shape to look like his sister. You didn't expect that.

"I'm sorry" Dolores told you softly "my brother gets excited when there are visitors to whom he has never shown off his gift"

"Hey!"

"Understandable, it's quite impressive" you smiled at the boy

"Thank you" Camilo smiled smugly "it's more impressive than a super audition"

You blinked in confusion as Dolores gave a subtle zap to the base of his neck. This was turning out to be a pretty alienated experience if you were being honest. But you reminded yourself that any crazy thing was much better than being in your mother's house.

“So…do you listen more than the rest?” you asked carefully

"Everything that happens in the town... maybe a little more" she admitted sheepishly.

"Impressive"

Julieta watched silently as her mother introduced you to the rest of the family. If she was honest, she hadn't been able to take her eyes off you since the moment you got off your horse. She told herself that it was simply because she had never seen someone with your beauty and bearing, because you exuded elegance with each one of your movements, no matter how small they were. She was sure that once the initial shock wore off, she might stop staring at you. She didn't want to think about the way her breath caught every time you smiled.

Your precious eyes passed over each member of her family, analyzing everyone with an air of royalty but an impressive simplicity. You were nothing like she had imagined and she was sure the others were trying to process that too if the unusual silence was any clue.

You thanked the flowers that Isabela offered you. However, you did not take them, you commented something about Luisa's incredible strength, you smiled reassuringly at Bruno, you greeted Mirabel with the same respect as the rest of the family, even when she told you that she did not have a gift. You decided to ignore the way Alma skipped over the blonde girl who had her arm linked with this Agustín guy.

“And this is my eldest daughter, Julieta”

You turned around with the intention of finishing your round of polite greetings, but something happened when you looked into the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen in your life. The woman before you was a little shorter than you, if only by a few inches, her black hair already had white in it and the soft crinkles at the corners of her eyes were signal of the passage of time, but her round cheeks, her hooded eyes, and her small lips still retained an impressive youthful beauty. Maybe she wasn't a movie woman, but you didn't think you'd ever seen a more perfect creature.

Julieta was grateful for her dark skin as she felt a blush quickly rise to her face and settle on her cheeks. Despite having been watching you, she had not been prepared to have your beauty so close. Not for the way you were looking at her either if she was being honest. As if she was the one worthy of admiration and not you.

You didn't even pay attention to Alma's explanation about her daughter's gift, something about healing and food (and later you would start to think about the relationship between one and the other), while you stretched out your hand towards her. The moment the brunette took your hand to shake it, you two could feel an electric current going down your backs. Her hands were warm and small, you could feel the nascent traces of a lifetime of work in them.

"A pleasure" you said softly, letting go of her hand.

"I-the pleasure is mine" she replied nervously.

You smiled warmly at her before turning around. It seemed that time had stopped and was just beginning to resume its course because no one seemed to have noticed the magic that had sprung up between the two of you in that little moment.

“Luisa will help you carry your luggage to the nursery. You will share a room with Mirabel if it doesn't bother you” Alma told you

"Of course not" you said "and don't worry, I don't travel heavy, I can carry my things myself"

"Are you sure?"

You nodded firmly. Alma didn't seem to believe you, but she decided not to push, for which Luisa seemed grateful, which made you wonder how many times the girl had been asked to carry things for others.

Julieta tensed a bit as you walked past her into the dining room. She supposed it made sense. You needed a place to stay, they didn't really have a guest room since they never had visitors, and her mother really had no way of knowing that at night, after Agustin fell asleep, she would come out of her room to sleep with Mirabel in the nursery. She couldn't know that she was taking away her daughter’s only way of escape.

"You can sleep with me, tía" Dolores whispered, leaning in to make sure no one else was listening.

The brunette looked at her niece gratefully and wrapped an arm around her waist, making it look like they were just hugging. It pained the girl to think of the pain her second mother must be feeling to prefer to escape from her own room, the place that was supposed to be a refuge, every night.

You noticed a slight change in the atmosphere when everyone took their seats and the blonde girl sat next to the man with glasses. The three cold-colored girls glared at them as if they weren't supposed to sit together. You also noticed that no one seemed to know how to act with you, that everyone looked at you out of the corner of their eyes because you were a strange presence that came to change the dynamic they already had.

Dolores gave her aunt a sympathetic look before sitting down between her two brothers and for a moment the older woman contemplated going into the kitchen with some cleaning excuse or something, but she knew her mother would be suspicious and it was already too much to ask her daughters to keep the secret of what her husband was doing. It was not the night to discuss it, especially when there was a guest as imposing, mysterious and beautiful as you.

In the end, it was you who unknowingly offered her the solution by sitting on the other side of Agustin, forcing her to take the seat next to you, and serving as a barrier between her and her husband. For her part, she was precisely the only one who seemed to remember that you were not a mannequin, and, although, with a touch of discomfort, she began to make you talk. Nothing serious, mostly about your trip, but there was something in her voice, in her warmth, that made you think that maybe, just maybe, you made the right decision coming here.

#reader insert #x reader #julieta madrigal #julieta my beloved #julieta x reader #julieta madrigal x reader #julieta madrigal preference #encanto #encanto preferences #encanto imagines #encanto x reader #el lugar sin limites #ELSL

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sunnynii · 3 years ago

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Zhongli x gn!reader

Ft: soft zhongli, gender neutral reader, body appreciation, slight smut towards the end (don’t read if you just want the fluff), amab! Zhongli, oral (m. receiving), praise

Image credit: Noct.draws on Instagram or u/noctlyuis on Reddit :)

Thinkin about pretty boy Zhongli, a quiet people pleaser.

Pretty boy Zhongli who’s tall frame bends to listen to you better, who’s smile is soft and adoring as you remind him to take care of himself.

Pretty boy Zhongli who shyly takes the hair tie out of his long locks at your request, shifting his weight from hip to hip at the way you stare at him in his black kimono; white draconic-like designs swirling up from the bottom edges and sleeves. He tries to clear his throat to ask of your opinion, only to see your eyes scanning his figure appreciatively; it makes his chest grow warm and his confidence swells for but a moment. Enough to sit back on his bed and tug on your sleeve, beckoning you closer.

Pretty boy Zhongli, who thrives on praise from you, knowing he hasn’t heard that since his days as the geo god, and finds himself melting with each compliment you give while your finger tips lightly trace the open skin of his chest. His fingers wrap around your wrist and pulls your hand flush against his body, trapping his slender thighs around your hips as you stand in front of him, looking up with a small pout. He wanted to hear more from you, to feel more. So when you thread your fingers through his soft hair and angle his head up for a kiss, he sighs in content, leaning into it and the hand you’ve cupped around his cheek. Your lips part for air but you pant against his lips, resting your forehead on his,

“You’re beautiful, Xiansheng”

His reaction is lovely, his face growing warm as he closes his eyes to bask in the words. You take that time to caress your hand on his cheek, finding his lips once more and taking them with your own as you gently push him down onto the mattress, hovering over him. Your hands take their time in finding his body, pulling his kimono open further. You suckle slowly on his bottom lip, pulling on it with a playful nip before making your way down his jaw and to his neck. He sighs in content at the way you nuzzle into his side, your hands warm against the skin of his hips, doing nothing more than massaging them with your thumbs.

——(NSFW under this cut)

But, pretty boy Zhongli, he craves more of your touch. He hasn’t felt this alive in years, so when a small plead escapes him you lower yourself to his chest. One hand grabbing and toying with the supple flesh while the other kisses and sucks, until you lap at his pert nipple. That’s when he moans quietly, at the feel of your mouth closing around it and the sensation your intimate touching brings.

Pretty boy Zhongli who spreads his legs abashedly, but does so nonetheless, propping himself up on his elbows to watch you kiss along his thighs and leave marks of your own for him to trace later. He closes his eyes in bliss when you finally take him into your mouth, and this once you let him close them, instead focusing on dragging your tongue up and down his length. Commenting how good he feels against your mouth before taking it in once again as far as you can. He gasps and carefully places his hands on your head, thighs closing a little around you as you suck. He loved this, he loved the feeling of you giving him more and more pleasure, loved the way your hands always caressed some part of him as you sucked.

Pretty boy Zhongli who whines when he gets close, toying with his bottom lip like the precious one he is, leaving his release completely in your hands. You pull away to place a tender kiss on his lips before going down and deep throating him, your fingers toying with his balls and encouraging him to release in your mouth. With a cry of your name and an arch of his back, he does, thanking you repeatedly and shuddering out of pleasure all the while.

Pretty boy Zhongli who pants lightly and catches his breath from his climax, pulling you close so he could rest his head on your chest, and entangle his limbs with yours.

—— (back to fluff content)

He noses along the crook of your neck and sighs once again happily, comfortable in your arms that wrap around his slender body. He lets out a small ‘I love you, darling’ and places a gentle kiss on the underside of your jaw, glowing in the aftermath of what you’ve given him.

His body relaxes as he hears you say it back. He’d love you for eternity, of this he’s sure.

#zhongli x reader #zhongli smut #sub zhongli #gn reader #genshin smut #genshin fluff #reblogs are appreciated #genshin impact morax #morax x reader #i have such a soft spot for Zhongli #i didnt really edit this #lets ignore the grammar pls and ty #why sleep when you can write about handsome men

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gretagerwigsmuse · 2 years ago

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i am a PUDDLE!! these two are my absolute favorite oc pairing on this site! they make me so unbelievably happy and i say this every time but i love how real they are! sure, not everything was smooth sailing for them, but that’s life and it made the ending and the buildup to it all the more worth it. like i would not change a thing! it made me so happy seeing whenever you’d update this and that one shot of darcy waiting for bradley to get off the boat is one of my absolute favorites. god i could gush for hours, but i have my favorite parts from this segment below! thank you for writing and posting such a lovely story 💕

“That’s Dr. Bradshaw to you, Bagman.” Bradley cuts in, almost arrogantly. You giggle. He still allows Seresin to get a rise out of him so easily. You have to admit, it’s kind of cute how proud Bradley is of you. It sure as hell makes you feel amazing. - I SCREAMED!! i think at this than the 2.5 month reveal!

After you got married, and you sent him a picture of the new name plaque on your office door, Nat told you he showed it off to the whole wing - i LOVE this so much! him bragging about her to everyone is cute! and i like that she hyphenated her name (i have my x reader doing the same thing) because hell yeah darcy you worked for that phd! where did she get it by the way? i went to gw, so i figured there au or georgetown?

“I’m kidding, darlin’, I’ll build you all the shelves you want.” He concedes, laughing too. You really, really try not to blush at the implication behind Bradley’s words. - this is sweet, but yes i totally agree with her liking the idea of bradley and power tools!?! please sir this nail is just not going into the wall 😮‍💨

You chat with Penny as the boys play, later teaming up with Nat to take on Bob and Mickey. - i like how it seems like darcy and penny are close despite never having really interacted in the previous chapters! it just goes to show how far bradley’s come to ingratiate darcy into his life and i love it - ditto with pete!

“No, we decided to keep them together.” You share a look with Bradley as you both smile - PLS THAT IS SO PRECIOUS

It’s such an incredibly intimate affair. There are no words. There is no touching, but it’s like watching you preform surgery on his soul. For Bradley, these moments are like a vacuum in time, simultaneously without end, but also always too short. - completely agree, this was such an intimate thing for her to do and i like that bradley basically just watches darcy do it

When you return home, Bradley’s head is once again filled with those intrusive thoughts. His gaze is trained on your hand as you play with a pen while reading, running your fingers through your hair in deep thought, wrapped around a mug of tea as you watch TV together. It looks so bare, and it’s almost offensive to him. - this is so beautiful and such a lovely sentiment and i made my heart burst and gave me butterflies

Bradley didn’t realize how little he could actually see until you illuminated his path home, like his own personal north star. And Bradley wants more than anything to always come home to you - TO ALWAYS COME HOME TO YOU 🥺🥺 THAT’S SUCH A LOVELY THOUGHT (also i love the idea of him going from port to port looking at rings and the ‘do you take credit?’ i love him)

Some dark nights, when sleep is elusive, he wonders what it is he actually does for you to make you want to endure him. On the other hand, whatever it is he’s doing, it’s working. Your face breaks into a smile when you see him, and when pulls you in for a dance in the cereal aisle, your laughter is definitely taking over your mortification, and secretly his favorite? You don’t stop singing immediately when he walks into the room, allowing him to listen before you revert to soft humming. - why are they the cutest couple of all time????

“I want to come home to you for the rest of my days.” - BABES PLS 😭😭😭 HE’S SO NERVOUS TOO

You were stunned into silence—you had heard Bradley play before, but never this song. Did he learn it for you? Because you hummed it? And he noticed? - this is such a lovely sentiment

GAHHHHH thank you again for writing such a lovely fic and sharing it with us all!

One for The History Books [Epilogue] [Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw]

[Summary] You are an archivist at the Pentagon, sent on assignment to TOPGUN to catalog and report on a top-secret mission. In the days under the Californian sun, a certain naval aviator puts your once orderly life in a tailspin that you might never recover from.

[Pairing] Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc

[Warnings] Mature content: swearing, (explicit) smut. 18+ only.

[Words] 6.4k

The gravel crunches under the wheels of the rented Bronco as Bradley easily steers it into a parking spot. The lot in front of the Hard Deck is busy, even though it’s closed for a private party tonight.

You smooth down your dress as you get from the car. The loose cut makes the soft fabric gently sway in the wind, grazing your mid-thigh. The smell of salt on the gentle ocean breeze hits you, still warm from the late summer sun. It takes you back to three years ago, when you found yourself here for the first time. You close your eyes for a moment.

The first time you saw Bradley.

Back then, you didn’t know yet that it was the night your entire world pitched off its axis. You didn’t really feel it until you fell—and kept falling. Even now, you’re not always sure your feet have touched on solid ground yet.

“You okay, darlin’?” Bradley appears next to you, his fingers grazing the skin of your neck and shoulders, exposed by the wide neck of your dress.

“Yeah.” You smile up at him. Your heart still does a little jump when your eyes lock—especially today; when he looks so relaxed, every smile reaches his eyes, and he carries himself with such easy confidence, lighting up every room.

Sure, it also doesn’t hurt he’s wearing his service khakis, that look like they’ve been molded onto his body. His classic aviators complete the image of effortless coolness. It’s like you’re falling for him all over again.

Bradley closes the car door for you, before running tracing his fingers down your spine before resting on the small of your back, guiding you to the entrance of the Hard Deck. He greets some fellow officers shortly on the way, never taking his hand from your back.

Inside, the Hard Deck is busy, filled to the brim with uniformed personnel. Penny and Amelia clearly made an effort in decorating the place for tonight— red, white, and blue garlands hang from the ceiling, banners, the works. You smile; some if it is definitely Amelia’s handiwork. She has a real creative streak.

“Bradley! Darcy!” Penny is making her way through the crowd, smiling broadly. She looks amazing—her long dress makes her look like she stepped out of a classical painting. “I’m so glad you guys made it.”

You gladly accept her hug, before she turns to Bradley to hug him too. “We’re glad to be here.” He smiles.

“I love what you’ve done with the place.” You say, looking around.

“Thank you, I’m glad it actually turned out well,” Penny chuckles. “Today has been absolutely crazy.”

“You should have called, I could have come earlier to help.” You say a bit worriedly.

“Nonsense, you guys have been so busy, you should enjoy your time off together.” Penny dismisses you easily, looping her arms through yours. “Let’s get you guys some drinks—what are you having?”

“A beer for me.” Bradley says as he follows you to the bar.

“I’ll have a… sparkling water.”

Penny doesn’t say anything, but her gaze quickly travels down to your midsection. Her eyes meet yours for a moment, and you can feel the burning question behind them.

“I’m just thirsty.” You laugh, waving her away. “It’s so warm today.”

“Of course.” She smiles back.

Amelia is sat at the bar, and as you receive your drinks, in lieu of a greeting, she just says: “That empire waist looks cute.”

Teenager.

Penny rolls her eyes, and you thank Amelia graciously, trying to not blush.

Bradley is silently laughing as he leads you away to greet Pete, who is the guest of honor today.

“I think they are on to us.” He chuckles softly as he uses his free hand to pull you against him.

“Pff, I never expected differently from Penny. Amelia is surprising, though.” You sigh. “As long as they keep it to themselves, I’ll pretend this is a vodka soda or something.” You take a sip from your drink.

Two-and-a-half months. That’s how far you are along. You’ve only known for about four weeks, but since then it’s become your most closely guarded secret, shared only with Bradley.

Being a stickler for rules under normal circumstances already, you are so nervous about something going wrong, you implored Bradley not to tell anyone before the three-month mark, and especially not at Pete’s retirement party tonight.

Unfortunately, you met up with Penny right after you found out when you and Bradley visited in Nevada before they flew out for Pete’s retirement ceremony, and you already used the excuse of coming off medication when refusing a glass of wine.

It’s not going to fly again.

You haven’t seen Pete anywhere yet, but you assume he’s being kept busy as the guest of honor. Bradley stops to talk with Mickey, while you greet Nat. It’s been a while since you’ve seen her, but she’s amazingly sharp as always.

“Bradshaw, as I live and breath.” Seresin emerges from the crowd, clapping Bradley on the back.

“Hangman.” He greets back, nodding shortly, before moving just a fraction closer to you, his hand still resting on the small of your back.

“And if it isn’t Miss Williams.” He continues, grinning mischievously. “I have to say, I am surprised…”

Yep. Still an asshole.

You smile politely, as you hold up your left hand. “Actually…” You start.

“That’s Dr. Bradshaw to you, Bagman.” Bradley cuts in, almost arrogantly.

Honestly.

You giggle. He still allows Seresin to get a rise out of him so easily. You have to admit, it’s kind of cute how proud Bradley is of you. It sure as hell makes you feel amazing.

Seresin’s momentarily utterly confused look is worth it, too. Although, he recovers in typical fashion: “Well, I suppose congratulations are in order to you both. But especially Rooster, because she’s even more out of your league now.”

“Doesn’t Darcy go by Dr. Bradshaw-Williams?” Nat suddenly pipes up, shutting both Bradley and Seresin up. Mickey nearly chokes on his beer. “Since, as I recall, she had a career and got the PhD before she got a husband.”

You cannot stop yourself from laughing as you thank Nat under your breath. Bradley scoffs. After you received your doctorate, Bradley absolutely beamed with pride every time he introduced you—and you still had your maiden name then, as you were only engaged.

After you got married, and you sent him a picture of the new name plaque on your office door, Nat told you he showed it off to the whole wing.

You chose to hyphenate your name—Nat is right about that. You already have a career and publications under your maiden name, and it’s an absolute bitch to get your name changed on all those articles retroactively. Plus, you don’t want to suddenly lose any name recognition, so you hyphenate mostly for work purposes.

“True, but Dr. Bradshaw works just fine.” You grin, lightly touching Bradley’s arm. To his credit, Bradley never made an issue of you hyphenating your last name. He even admitted to you he would understand if you kept your maiden name when you discussed it.

But you know him.

When you told him you would take his last name together with your own, the look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. It was the only right decision—because deep down, it was incredibly important to him: the idea of family being a family together and sharing a name.

Bradley presses a kiss against your temple, as Seresin rolls his eyes. “Who’s up for some pool?”

“We need to talk to Mav first.” Bradley replies. “Any idea where he is?”

“Probably at the pool table, actually.” Mickey replies.

Bradley leads you through the crowd, arm wrapped around you to keep anyone from bumping into you.

You give Pete a big hug, congratulating him.

“How does it feel?” You ask, smiling.

“Strange, very strange.” He admits with a half-smile. “I don’t think it’s complete sunk in yet.”

“How was the ceremony?” You inquire conversationally. Pete chose to have his ceremony onboard of the USS Roosevelt together with his closest fellow aviators and colleagues a few weeks ago. Bradley had been there, while you stayed behind with Penny. This was the party for everyone who wasn’t at the ceremony.

“It was very nice, but let’s not talk about that now. I’d rather hear how you are doing.” Pete replies with a grin. Ah, it probably still feels raw for him, finally retiring from active duty. “How’s the new house? Are you getting settled?”

“Yeah, it’s finally as good as done.” You let out a sigh of relief. “You should come visit sometime soon.”

The last six months have been insane: you got married, bought a new place together, Bradley went on a 6-week detachment, you tried your hardest to turn that house into a home and then you got pregnant. You haven’t even been on honeymoon yet. Now, you try not to think about having to convert one of the bedrooms into a nursery soon.

“It’s as good as done if Darcy doesn’t keep buying more books,” Bradley jokes. “I will be building shelves forever at this rate.”

Pete laughs, as you gently elbow Bradley in the ribs, frowning playfully.

“I’m kidding, darlin’, I’ll build you all the shelves you want.” He concedes, laughing too. You really, really try not to blush at the implication behind Bradley’s words.

Yeah, so, you thought you had a thing for Bradley in uniform? Try having him working with his hands, power tools, in the house you bought together. Fuck. You could try to blame it on the newlywed rush, coming off birth control, missing Bradley—but the bottom line is—he’s so good with his hands, and looks so fine doing it, you’re 99% sure the shelves are the reason you’re pregnant now.

“I’m glad you kids are doing well.” Pete comments, almost wistfully.

“Thanks Mav.” Bradley replies sincerely. Although he’d probably never admit it as such, Bradley cares deeply about Pete’s opinion, and wants his approval. It’s something that goes unspoken between them, but is mutually understood.

The moment is disturbed by Seresin waltzing past with a tray of shots. “Rooster, Maverick, you’re up—two v. two against Payback and me.”

Pete and Bradley share one look—and you know they will never back down from a challenge like that. Shaking your head, you follow them to the pool table.

“Go sit down, darlin’.” Bradley leads you to a bar stool, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you slide onto it. “You still good?” He asks quietly.

You nod, smiling. Bradley is trying not to be overbearing, but he wants to make sure you are comfortable. You are okay with that—smothering, not so much. Bradley starts racking the balls as Seresin is distributing shots, and even though you shake your head, he presses one into your hand.

“Come on, Willia- shit, I have to call you Bradshaw now.” He corrects himself.

“You can call me Darcy.” You laugh.

“Will your husband be okay with that?” He taunts. Bradley shoots his a murderous look from the table.

“It’s my name, you ass.” You reply with a fake smile. “And I don’t want a shot.”

You move to put the glass back onto the tray Seresin is holding.

“It’s for a toast to Maverick’s health,” Seresin plays up his faux shock. “Surely you can’t say no to that?”

“Leave my wife alone, Hangman.” Bradley warns.

“Please tell me you didn’t get so boring since marrying Rooster.” Seresin continues needling you, ignoring Bradley. “You used to be fun: doing shots, shotgunning beers…”

You roll your eyes. Of course he wouldn’t let up, acting like going out with you and Bradley wasn’t a one-off, that time when Seresin suddenly showed up in Arlington.

You hold the shot glass up, shooting Seresin a sarcastic smile as he walks away. There’s not arguing with him.

“I’ll drink it for you.” Bradley whispers, turning to you.

“Don’t worry about it, babe.” You shake your head, as he runs his knuckles over your upper arm. “I’ll get rid of it—you keep all your faculties for the game.” You add, teasing.

“I’m glad you have such faith in me, darlin’.” Bradley drawls sarcastically. You blow him a kiss in response. Penny joins the crowd, standing next to Pete—they look radiant together—as an old friend of Pete’s makes the toast.

As everyone kicks back their drink, you bring the shot glass up to your sealed lips, tilting your head back as if you’re drinking, only to dump the clear liquid into the melting ice of your water glass as you move your head back down.

You put away both glasses on the bar behind you, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. Bradley’s fingers gently wrap around your chin, tilting your face up to his.

“A kiss for good luck?” He murmurs against your lips.

You giggle, pressing your lips against his. He tastes faintly of vodka. “I’ll be here, enjoying the view.”

“Order me another beer, sweetheart?” He asks as he accepts a cue stick from Pete. You nod affirmative, as Penny slides onto the bar stool next to you.

“Smooth move.” She comments airily. You just shoot her a look as you accept a new glass of sparkling water and a beer from the bartender. She knows. But you just shake your head.

“Not yet. Not today.” You don’t elaborate—you don’t have to. Penny nods in understanding as she grabs your hand and squeezes it in assurance. An understanding of ‘I know what you’re going through’. You squeeze back as a thank-you.

“At least one of us will be sober enough to drive.” You comment dryly, nodding to the pool table as Bradley and Pete knock back another shot. You dissolve into giggles with Penny.

You chat with Penny as the boys play, later teaming up with Nat to take on Bob and Mickey. Dodging Seresin and his mission to get everyone blind drunk (it is an open bar, but man, show some restraint), which you think you’re doing a pretty decent job of.

You keep ‘forgetting’ your drink on the side table, or just simply handing it to Bradley as you pretend to focus on the game. Barley beating the boys, you high five Nat.

“C’mon, let's have a drink to celebrate.” She grabs your elbow and leads you to the bar.

“I’m good.” God, you never realized how hard it’s to dodge every offer of alcohol. You tug back a little, stopping Nat. “Designated driver.” You grin lightly, shrugging.

Nat cocks an eyebrow, knowing full well it’s several hours before you’ll leave. You hold your smile on your face, trying to look as neutral as possible. It’s not even a lie—you are the designated driver. But Nat is sharp. Thankfully, she’s also tactful and doesn’t push the issue.

You make your way to Bradley, who is standing at the dart board with a few others, wrapping your arms around his waist. He immediately, automatically puts his arm around, and presses a kiss on the top of your head.

After that, there is a flurry of names and faces—so many people know Bradley, knew his dad, and want to talk to him. The smile never leaves his face. You know he is loving this, he loves being around people, and he does it so well—laughing, joking, telling stories.

People gravitate to him, his genuine warmth and his light. He doesn’t always see it himself that way and uses his extraversion as a mask, but it’s really him.

“It’s good to see you, son.” An older man claps Bradley on the shoulder, before pulling him into a hug. “Taking after your old man more and more, I see.” He adds jokingly.

Bradley laughs. “I can only hope.”

You politely chat to the man’s wife—honestly, your brain is turning to mush from all the names—supplying her with details of your newlywed status.

“That’s not Carole’s ring, is it? She asks suddenly, gently grabbing your hand.

“No, we decided to keep them together.” You share a look with Bradley as you both smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back then, when he stayed in Texas for a month, Bradley had put any thoughts of marriage to rest for the time being. He knew then already: it’s not that he doesn’t want to marry you eventually—it still crosses his mind regularly—but he’s not sure if you will actually say yes right now. He doesn’t feel worthy of it. Not yet.

So he doesn’t bring it up. Neither do you.

After he comes back he has time to spend by himself with his memories, that you are lovingly and painstakingly restoring for him. While you are out for work, he flips through the pictures, trying to remember, to feel those moments again.

Some evenings he sits quietly next to you, as you pull nitrile gloves on, hair in a messy bun, and slowly, carefully go through every picture. You go through almost meditative motions as you reapply glue, precisely placing the photo on the page, humming softly.

He loves it.

It’s only when you stretch out, groaning involuntarily as your spine pops, it’s like the bubble burst.

Running his fingers over the tight muscles in your shoulders, Bradley jokes:

“You should work on your posture.”

You moan softly in response, eyes closed, as he works out the knots in your back.

Bradley has purposefully been avoiding the box that has the display case with his father’s funeral flag. You asked him what he wanted to do with it, but truthfully, he just shrugged, not having an answer. You regarded him carefully, like you were trying to discern what he was thinking. Ultimately, you suggest keeping it in the box for the time being with the other items, gently waylaying the decision to the future.

It stays there until after Christmas.

You spend Christmas at your parents’ place in Colorado together, and despite the numerous arguments you have with your sister, seeing you with family, being welcomed into your family, makes Bradley ache for having his own.

With you.

He should get it together and ask you to marry him. It’s been months since that seed took hold in his brain, and it has been only growing, even though he tried not to feed it. The vines have now irrevocably entangled him, and Bradley knows he can’t pull them off without tearing his soul apart in the process.

He just doesn’t feel ready. It’s like he’s been rooted in place.

If Bradley is completely honest with himself, he never particularly put much thought in marriage or family in his own life. Ironically, that has been leading him down a lonely work alcoholic path similar to Mav’s (and Bradley even had the gall to call him out on it—it’s embarrassing in hindsight). But the solution seems so simple. He’ll get his mom’s ring, ask you, and pray you will say yes.

But it’s when he finally actually sits down at your desk and opens the small items box, even the little bit of resolve he feels melts away. His mom’s ring and dad’s dog tags sit snugly together, like their last earthly possession have found their final resting place. Together, as they should be. It feels almost sacrilegious as Bradley takes the ring out, and inspects it.

It’s really quite dirty, grime stuck along the setting, the yellow gold band dull. He rolls the ring around in his palm, weighing it, trying to figure out why it doesn’t feel… right.

The center topaz glints happily in the sun—and it reminds him of his mom. Her warmth, the way she could light up a room with a single smile, and her incredibly energy. She was the sun; keeping him in orbit, on the right path.

Leaning his head on his head, he sighs. But that’s not you. You are steady and patient; a calming presence. Not a force of nature in the way his mom was, but rather a gentle guiding light.

Bradley didn’t realize how little he could actually see until you illuminated his path home, like his own personal north star. And Bradley wants more than anything to always come home to you.

He decides to mull it over as he leaves for deployment. Every time he makes port somewhere, he cannot help but stop in front of a jewelry store. Looking at the displays, he feels lost.

What would you actually like? What would actually make sense for someone who hardly wears jewelry?

Before he left, he took a quick look at your sparsely filled jewelry box—it’s mostly filled with simple silver designs. It makes him grin. You are such a practical person, even when it comes to things that are supposed to be nice.

Nothing catches his eyes for weeks—months, even. He googles, trying to come up with a better description than: something Darcy would like, something that will make her happy every time she looks at it, something she will wear every day. But nothing seems to fit.

Bradley finds himself in Portsmouth, England for a week. His fellow aviators have cottoned on and absolutely to refuse to let go of the matter. A few of the younger guys don’t understand the big deal (like, it’s all cool if it’s like a diamond, right?) while others seem to firmly on the side that it’s romantic.

To Bradley, it’s becoming torture.

It’s only the second time around, when he walks past several of the city’s jewelry stores, something finally catches his eye. He looks at the ring through the glass—a thin silver band, beset with a round light blue stone, surrounded by what he assumes are diamonds. But it looks too big, so he leaves it at that.

The next days are busy, full of preparations for departure festivities before embarking back west to Nova Scotia before returning to Virginia. The more he thinks about that fucking ring, the more he realizes that… that might actually be the perfect one. He doesn’t remember any of the other rings he’s seen, but this one stayed on his mind from the moment he saw it.

On departure day, already dressed in his Navy whites, he makes an attempt at looking dignified while dashing to the store. Please, please be open, he prays.

He practically Kramers into the store, his loafers skidding on the polished wooden floor. The poor clerk is so out of sorts he just looks at Bradley mutely, eyes wide in surprise.

“Good morning.” Bradley smiles, breathing a little too hard, trying to regain some composure. “I want to buy a ring.”

The clerk nods, before jolting into action.

“So, this is a white gold ring, with a halo design: the center stone a beautiful light blue aquamarine, beset with white diamond accent stones, which-” The clerk is doing going through his sales pitch, showing the ring from all angles in the glittering light, but Bradley really doesn’t have time. He shouldn’t even be off the boat right now.

“Sounds lovely.” He cuts in diplomatically. “Can I see it?”

Perturbed, the clerk hand him the ring. Bradley runs his finger over the gems—the setting is smooth. He likes to imagine you would wear this when working: not tearing through gloves, comfortable as you write—and the light blue is elegant and understated.

It feels so much more like you.

In the palm of his hand, the ring doesn’t look that big, but your hands are significantly smaller. Before he can start overthinking it again, Bradley decides that, hell, even if the stone is a bit large—surely it’s not that bad to show off that you are engaged?

Bradley is so lost in thought, he doesn’t really hear the clerk patter on about upselling him on similar rings, different boxes, gift wrapping—the works. Rather than to waste even more time, he just cuts to the chase.

“Do you take credit?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, commander, are you ready for tonight?” You are fixing your hair in the bathroom mirror. Bradley peeks into the bathroom, appreciating how his favored sundress is clinging to every curve of your body. He was recently promoted, and so you had taken it upon yourself to tease him a bit with his new rank. Just to get used to it a little.

“I’m all good.” His eyes rake over your body, appreciatively. “You look great, darlin’.”

You turn to him with a smile, dress twirling. Bradley is dressed casually—you’re only going to a 4th of July cook out, after all. But you can’t help but be nervous, you really don’t want to be over or underdressed.

“You sure this is okay?” You ask, hesitantly. It’s the first time you’re actually doing a thing with his work buddies, at work. And you’re his guest.

“More than okay.” He assures you. To him, it’s adorable how worried you are. But it’s also a good thing, because if you are worried about what you are wearing, maybe you’ll be less likely to clock him. Bradley is sure the anxiety is rolling off him in waves, to the point where his own voice sounds weirdly forced to him.

For weeks that little box has been going everywhere with him—in his pocket, glove compartment, locker—sometimes he almost wished you would just find it. Now he needs to find a good way to keep it on him—he can’t really ask you to keep it in your purse, but it’s too warm to wear a jacket. So he takes a risk.

“I’ll pack you a hoodie, okay, sweetheart?” He says, turning around and walking to the bedroom to grab his gray zip up hoodie. “In case you get cold later.”

He can pretend it’s the gentlemanly thing to do and hold it for you, hiding the ring in one of the pockets. He’ll have to keep an eye on it during the day, but he’ll have to keep his wits about him either way.

Because today is the day.

He is going to ask you to marry him.

Finally, he can accept that there will never be a perfect moment. The goalposts will always move, and new challenges come up on the horizon at every turn, and the darkness doesn’t disappear as easily as it came.

But you stick by him.

You stick by him through the deployments, the comms blackouts, the things he can’t talk about, the things he wants to talk about but hurt. You are the constant.

Some dark nights, when sleep is elusive, he wonders what it is he actually does for you to make you want to endure him.

On the other hand, whatever it is he’s doing, it’s working. Your face breaks into a smile when you see him, and when pulls you in for a dance in the cereal aisle, your laughter is definitely taking over your mortification, and secretly his favorite? You don’t stop singing immediately when he walks into the room, allowing him to listen before you revert to soft humming.

Your sister casually mentioned you were in choir in high school, intending to make fun of you (you threatened to stab her with a butter knife at the dinner table), but for Bradley that was… well, music to his ears.

But now he needs to get through this afternoon, the ring box practically burning a hole through the hoodie in his hand as you strap on your sandals.

Every time you catch his eye that day, talking to people, playing with one of the kids, every time you smile, it burns him a little bit more.

Finally, the sun is setting, and the first fireworks start soon.

“Let’s go for a walk.” Bradley whispers in your ear, easily whisking you away from a conversation with one of the junior officers in his wing. Your fingers thread through his immediately, as he leads you away from the noisy crowd of the party, along the shoreline away from the harbor.

“Aren’t the fireworks starting soon?” You ask, looking back quickly. You are moving away from the fireworks show, which strikes you as strange. Bradley has spent weeks talking that the fireworks show they put in Virginia Beach is absolutely amazing, and you really have to spend the 4th of July there, having a booked a hotel even before you agreed. In hindsight, that should really have been a hint.

You descend from the walkway down to the beach, the waves softly lapping at the sand the only sound around. The sun is in those final minutes before it drops behind the horizon competently, covering everything in a palette of oranges and reds like a final goodbye. The wind picks up every so slightly, causing you to shiver.

“Good thing I brought this.” Bradley jokes, although his voice sounds somewhat forced, as he slips the zipped open hoodie over your shoulders.

“Where would I be without you?” You chuckle. In your periphery you see his Bradley’s closed fist, knuckles straining, like he’s holding on to something heavy. Before you can ask, he twirls you around, resting your back to his chest, arm wrapped around your waist.

“The fireworks will come from there—and trust me, this is the absolutely best spot to see them.” In his own ears, he doesn’t sound nearly as smooth or confident as he’d like. You turn your head at him, smiling contently. The final rays of sunshine are dancing over his skin, the dark shadows brining your every movement of his muscles and illuminating his curls in a golden hue. How can you be so lucky?

Not being able to stop yourself, you pepper kisses along his jaw. Bradley kisses you back, almost absentmindedly, eyes looking away in the distance.

There is something strange about being on an empty part of the beach, so close to dark. The twilight has a foreboding feeling to it. Maybe it’s the anticipation for the show, although that feels like a too-shallow explanation for the strange twisting in your stomach. It feels like… it feels like you’re about to take an exam that you haven’t studied for—woefully under prepared and no insight about what is happening.

You lean back into Bradley, who tightens his arm around you, listening to the soft swash of the sea. When the first rocket soars into the night sky, dappling the darkness with red, white and blues, he hears you gasp softly. This is it.

His eyes travel down your delighted face, hands clasped in front of your chest, the colors of the fireworks reflecting in your eyes. You’ve never looked prettier to him.

Slowly, gently, as not to startle you from your enchantment, Bradley loosens his hold on your waist, fingers ghosting along your stomach before retracting his arm completely. When he steps back in a moment, it will be the point of no return, as you will surely notice then. He’s holding on to the ring box so tightly, it feels he’s about to crush it with his nervous energy alone.

On three, commander, he tries to spur himself into action.

He counts back to one at least ten times before pushes himself back with a little bit more force than intended, taking a clumsy step back. It’s now or never. The adrenaline coursing through his veins makes it feel like time is slowing down, allowing him to see every move with anxious clarity.

You start to turn, look of surprise on your face as the colors from the sky reflect on your skin. Your mouth is opening to say something, forehead creasing in confusion.

Not at all gracefully, certainly not with the level of control one might expect from an experienced aviator, Bradley lands on his knee in the sand before you can complete your motion. Your eyes meet, and for a second, a second that seems to stretch into infinity, nothing happens.

The flickers of colored light are the indication that time has not ground to halt completely as you stand rooted to the ground, unable to parse what is happening. There are so many thoughts running absolutely rampant through your head, you cannot find coherence.

Bradley is holding his breath—maybe he’s forgotten how to breathe—as he looks up at you. This is on him. He needs to make a move.

Finally loosening his vice-like grip on the ring box, he rests it in his palm. He rehearsed the words in his head so many times, wrote them down, rewrote them, kept them tucked in the pocket of his shirt. And now they seem to have evaporated from existence.

“I want to come home to you for the rest of my days.” He starts, his voice mercifully steady unlike his insides, which seems to have turned into jello, quaking with every heartbeat. He’s completely winging it now.

Your brain appears to finally be capable of reaction, as your hand covers your mouth, tears threatening to spill from your brilliant eyes. “I promise to take care of you as you do for me, love you -” He trails off, eyes flickering away for a moment in embarrassment. So much for rehearsal. Don’t think, just do.

“I don’t want to be without you anymore.” He concludes, voice strong. “You are the light of my life, everything make sense with you. Please, Darcy, will you marry m-”

He never gets to finish the sentence as you catapult yourself into him, arms desperately wrapping around his neck, your lips crashing into his. He falls backwards into the sand, catching you by the waist, your tears dripping on his face.

This is a good thing, right? Bradley muses. This is a good reaction. He thinks. You haven’t said anything, you didn’t even let him finish. Hell, you didn’t even wait for him to open the ring box. It’s currently in the sand, his hand blindly grasps for it, clutching it in his hand.

Maybe all that really isn’t as heavy and important as he made it out to be. Maybe all that really matters that you are happy, and he is a source of that happiness.

You break the kiss, sniffling a bit before breaking into soft laughter, the amalgamation of emotions raging within. Bradley watches it play all on your face anxiously.

“Yes.” You smile. “With every part of my being, yes.”

It’s like he can now relax and finally solidifies back into reality. Laughing, he lies back into the sand, pulling you with him in a kiss. Behind your back, he pops the ring box open and takes the ring out.

“Give me your hand.” He murmurs against your lips. Sitting up a little, you watch with bated breath as Bradley takes your hand, and tenderly slides a ring on your ring finger. Holding on to your hand, he presses a kiss to your knuckles, as if to seal the ring in place. The stones glint in the sparse light of the night, the fireworks having died down.

Bradley follows your every move carefully as you take a closer look at the ring.

“It’s beautiful.” You say breathlessly, tears prickling in your eyes again. It’s by far the nicest piece of jewelry you probably ever owned, and you don’t think you’ll ever own anything more precious. “I’m never taking it off.”

Bradley laughs, eyes filled with happiness. “That’s the idea, darlin’.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly but surely the party at the Hard Deck winds down. You are set next to Bradley at the piano, head resting on his shoulder as he plays the melody to Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here for you. It was always one of your favorite songs, something you would hum under your breath as you worked or did chores.

One day, you had been humming along exactly like that, softly singing excerpts from the lyrics to yourself as you were unpacking boxes in your new living room. It was the strangest moment, when your humming was suddenly accompanied by the soft tones of the piano, Bradley adding little flourishes to the melody.

You were stunned into silence—you had heard Bradley play before, but never this song. Did he learn it for you? Because you hummed it? And he noticed?

If you hadn’t been married already at that point, you would have married him again. A thousand times over, just for that.

So you sat down next to him, exactly as you are sitting now. You started humming again as he harmonized with you. Music is what connects Bradley to his family and memories, and you could see in his eyes that this was something he wanted—that he needed. No matter how scared you are to sound off-key (like… he’s actually good, you are generally glad to hold a note), you enjoy this moment to the fullest.

And every moment after that, when he plays that song, just for you.

“I’m ready to go when you are.” He tells you softly. You just watch his fingers deftly dance over the piano keys for a bit longer. You will never tire of watching him move so elegantly, so precisely and with so much feeling.

“I’m about ready to go home.” You nod, smiling. “But you can stay if you want? I think Nat and the others are staying longer.”

You look at the group milling around the bar still. Bradley follows your gaze but shakes his head.

“You sure?” You ask. Stationed all around the nation, hell, half the world, they don’t get together in one place that much.

“Positive.” He replies, getting up from the piano.

“Dr. Bradshaw, if I may have the honor?” He holds out his hand to help you up, that cocky half-smile gracing his lips and mirth in his eyes—he knows you a little too well how to get you hot under the collar.

You laugh, blush dusting your cheeks. “Take us home, commander Bradshaw.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[note]And that's truly it for the main story. All in all, it clocks in at about 100k words, including the existing side stories. That's officially longer than my thesis. So what's next? Side stories (one already done, coming very soon), editing (lol), some more art, and I may or may not have been thinking about a new story. As long as stays fun to do! Again. Thank you for reading my first fic in a decade. I couldn't have chosen a nicer fandom to return to—you guys make it worth it. See you at the next one!

#bradley fic #one of my absolute all time faves coming to an end!!!

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