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#a blessing upon any house
moocha-muses · 6 months
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Love is a Many-Legged Thing
Yandere Squid Merman x Gender Neutral Reader CW: Noncon, tentacle noncon, light tentacle bondage, stalking, kidnapping, squid-based merman, big slimy prehensile merman dick, reader fucked senseless, merman fantasizes about receiving oral sex, general yandere behavior, delusional yandere, voyeurism, exhibitionism Word Count: 2k (Happy MerMay!!!! I really hope you all love the fic, would have been done weeks ago had the ac not died. But still 40min left of MerMay! I wrote this fast without a beta reader so please forgive any mistakes! The name Onyk is a reference to Onykia Ingens, a deap sea squid with an astoundingly long dick.)
Seaspark Aquarium was a very unique establishment. Not only did it contain the usual attractions that an aquarium housed, the tide pools, the sharks, a seemingly unending variety of colorful fish and corals and nudibranchs, but it also housed transient merfolk. The aquarium was situated on a flat outcrop of rocky land. Via submerged tubes it granted access to a huge tank to the ocean and merfolk below.
The tank was absolutely massive and had many different areas including a reef, a seaweed forest, a beach, and even a secluded sea cave. There were underwater cameras in most of the areas that live streamed what was happening on screens for the humans. Though the sea cave feed was restricted to adults only since the merfolk sometimes mated there.
The aquarium was just as much an exhibit for the merpeople as it was for the humans, they had underwater screens that allowed them to view the humans at play and at the food court. They enjoyed seeing and even communicating with their terrestrial cousins. There were several areas where humans and merpeople could talk face to face or via the cameras. Many of them visited quite frequently and made friendships with regular customers and their favorite staff members.
You had been blessed with landing a really good job at Seaspark Aquarium. Though it was entirely because you were the cousin of the curator of the establishment. You did janitorial tasks, including sometimes scraping the tanks, and occasionally you had to provide food for an exhibit. Even though interacting with animals or merfolk was not a common part of your job, there was one squid-man who had become quite friendly with you. Onyk.
Most of the squid type mermen shied away from human interaction, and really the aquarium as a whole, but not Onyk. He had always been a frequent visitor. A knowledgeable observer might even say it seemed that he had been hoping to find something there. The first few times he had gone had been out of pure curiosity about humans after hearing tales about them his entire life. But after his first couple of visits he was enthralled. Everything about the land walkers amazed him.
And then he met you and felt his heart flutter every single time he looked upon you. He frequently tried to engage you in conversation whenever he could and was always watching you, though often it was in secret. Onyk cherished your chats with him, he found you so interesting, even more so than he found other humans. He loved seeing you go about your tasks, it made him think of you cleaning his home as his mate while he went and got food for the two of you.
Of course if you had any say, that would never happen. Onyk, for some reason you couldn't quite place, creeped you out. No, it wasn't the head of tentacles he had in place of hair, nor the dark purple tentacles he had from the waist down, it wasn't his smile that showed off his dangerously sharp teeth, or his cyan blue eyes. No, it wasn't anything physical, just a weird energy he seemed to give off. Like a hungry animal hunting its prey.
You tried to be nice to Onyk, though you always tried to keep conversations brief and hurry on to other tasks that would take you out of his reach. Unfortunately he took your awkward stammers and clumsy rushing to zip away from him as you being extremely shy because you liked him. He sighed and stared at you longingly, head resting on his hands, as you rushed off once more. Clearly you were simply too embarrassed by your emotions to act rationally around him. Onyk had to find a way to get you to stop running off. As adorable as it was that you kept scampering off from your shyness you really needed to be closer to him.
Onyk had a brilliant, though simple, idea. It came to him right as you were in the middle of making another excuse to run away from him while the two of you were chatting in the beach area. He'd simply grab you. It wasn't the first thing he'd normally do, but you were just too prone to running off. It was more than obvious you needed him to make a firm and forceful first move.
"Well uh... it was nice seeing you again Onyk... but um... I gotta go check on the tide p-"
Onyk lunged at you suddenly with the speed and ferocity of lightning. He pulled you into the water and swiftly took you into the empty sea cave and sat you on the dry ground within. Yes, this would do perfectly for his purposes. It was a huge room that had an area for him to swim and enough space for you to run about and get exercise. This would make a lovely home for the two of you, he'd have to keep all the other merfolk out from now on but that wasn't an issue, they were respectful of claimed territory.
Once you caught your breath you were confused and angry at the sudden relocation.
"What the f-"
He interrupted you again, this time by pressing his hungry lips to yours in a passionate embrace. His long tongue slipped past your unsuspecting lips and explored every inch that it could reach. His saliva pooled in your mouth, claiming it. The offending muscle snaked down your throat before finally retreating as he broke the kiss, you struggled to find your breath once more.
"Heh, sorry for interrupting, I have just been waiting to kiss you for so long I couldn't hold back any longer!"
“What!? Why did you do that? Why did you bring me here!?”
“Well your shyness was making it hard for us to take things to the next step in our relationship, now you can’t let your nervousness get the better of you and make you run off!”
“Next step in our relationship? We have no relationship, you creep!”
“Don’t say that! Y-you just have the jitters because moving in is such a big step! Yeah, they’ll wear off soon I’m sure.”
“There won’t be a soon, I am going back to the beach!”
You started to head back to the water, but Onyk closed the distance between the two of you easily.
“But you can’t go! You’re just in denial and nervous, but you’ll love living with me, I promise. M-maybe I’m not moving too fast but too slow. That must be it, you must be all pent up and eager for my dick! So naughty~”
Onyk’s blush was evident even on his light blue skin. He swallowed your complaints in another deep kiss as he stood behind you and rubbed your crotch gently.
“We’ll do it in front of these cameras so everyone knows you’re mine now~”
And, indeed, the screens in the adults only section of the aquarium definitely picked up some viewers as the scene between you and Onyk unfolded.
Most mermen would have had trouble traversing land, but Onyk’s strong tentacles allowed him to maneuver easily enough. He peeled off your wet clothing and wrapped his arms tightly around your bare chest, rubbing and caressing you with greedy hands. His prehensile cock wrapped partially around your waist, held you close as it rubbed against you. At first you mistook the sensation for a tentacle before looking down and seeing it, the cock was tapered, icy blue and glowing at the tip, with the rest of it being dark purple.
Your shouts and screams were ignored as Onyk convinced himself they were just you being grumpy or maybe playing hard to get. The merman’s sharp teeth bit carefully at your tender neck as you squirmed. Most of his tentacles had wrapped around your legs, powerful suction cups firmly adhered them to you. They held you staunchly in place despite your best efforts to struggle.
The remaining two writhing appendages were busy with another task. They gently prodded and massaged your tight hole, slowly worming their way inside you. Your efforts to clench and keep them outside of you were rendered futile as they finally worked their way inside of you. They began thrusting in tandem back and forth within you, loosening you up well.
Your next attempt at protesting devolves into several lusty moans as he ministrations begin to elicit pleasure. It’s all the confirmation he needs that he has been right all along and definitely went about everything in the right way.
“Your mating sounds are so lovely,” he said as he nipped at your ear.
His tentacles suddenly withdrew from your lovingly stretched hole, leaving you involuntarily whimpering at the sudden removal.
“Awe, don’t worry, love. I have something far better to put into you~”
You snap out of it when you hear those words and feel his cock move itself from your waist and start wiggling against you in search of its target.
“What!? No, please do-oooh~ Aaah!”
When it found your entrance it deftly slithered right in. Much to your unwilling pleasure.
Onyk chuckled.
“I knew you just needed some good dick~ You feel soooo good. You were made for this!”
When you happened to look up at one of the cameras you blushed and looked down. The room that monitored the sea cave was now packed, everyone enjoying the sight. The aquarium was already at work recording with plans to put it on their website for sale.
You couldn’t help the lewd cacophony of noises that tumbled from your mouth as the thick slimy cock thrust back and forth inside of you.
“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you!” Onyk chanted louder and louder until he slammed into you hard, filling you up with warm viscous semen at the same moment that you were shuddering from the strongest orgasm that you had ever experienced.
You were far too dazed and overstimulated to realize what was going on in that moment or what you were saying, but on autopilot you mumbled back what your brain thought it was supposed to when someone told you that they loved you.
“I l-love you too…”
Onyk was overjoyed to hear those words from his beloved human. He pulled out of you and laid down on the floor of the cave, pulling you close to him and resting your head on his chest. His webbed fingers gently caressed you as did both the tentacles that made up his "hair" and the ones below his waist. Cum slowly ebbed out of you and onto him but he didn't mind, the two of you would just get messy again the second you came to your senses. He nuzzled into your hair and gave you dozens of little kisses. Your mind was too blank and your body too exhausted to do anything but drool a bit on his chest while he cuddled you.
His head was swimming with all of the things the two of you would do together. Sharing meals, chatting, mating. He couldn’t wait to wrap his cock gently around your neck while at the same time plunging it down your throat and having that pretty mouth of yours suck it until he was feeding you his cum. Maybe the two of you could try it when you woke up.
Meanwhile onlookers on the viewing screens were putting away their cocks and slipping their fingers out of their pussies with the spectacle now over, but word soon spread and tourism was up over 300 percent! Scientists the world over were interested in documenting this rare species of merman having sexual relations with a human. Grants were given. A great raise and credit to your cousin, the curator.
It was even considered a diplomatic victory for merfolk and humans!
Everyone came to the consensus that on all fronts, but yours, it was far too beneficial and lucrative to make sure you had to permanently stay in the sea cave for the rest of your life with Onyk. At the very least they equipped the habitat with amenities like a proper bathroom, tv, video games, and human food. The sea cave area was also expanded, and you were afforded some privacy, except for most of the times that your “husband” Onyk was spilling his seed into you. That’s what people wanted to see.
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harmoonix · 2 months
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ᨵׁׅᝯׁꫀׁׅܻɑׁׅ֮ꪀׁׅ꯱ׁׅ֒ꪱׁׅժׁׅ݊ꫀׁׅܻ
(Astrology Observations)
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- Aquarius Risings are good at communicating in love thanks to their Virgo/Leo axis of 7th and 8th house signs, they may also crave a lot of physical touch
- Aqua/Scorpio/Capricorn Risings can have Sirene eyes, and if you have Pluto - Asc aspects you have the same thing
- Virgo/Cancer and Taurus Risings on the other side can have doe/deer eyes shape, they really look like Bambie (the deer)
- Sun aspecting Chiron natives happens to have other people throwing their insecurities on them, like your friend feels insecure and immediately throws that energy on you
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- Chiron in the 7th house is both a curse and a blessing, sometimes you met hurt people already sometimes you're the one who hurts or heals them
- Chiron in the 12th house can show your subconscious is in pain, and can mostly be from your past life, does it happens to have a lot of deja-vu?
- Mercury in the 7th house are so good at talking and expressing their love language. I really love how comfortable they can get around people
- Mars in the 11th house sometimes creates a "love-hate relationship" between you and your friends, even conflicts can rise up
- Venus in Aquarius Degrees (11°, 23°) can really have an outstanding fashion style because of the uniqueness degrees of Aquarius energy
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- Mercury at 8°, 20° degrees they can literally talk about every taboo topics without any fear of judgement. Their talk is freely open to everything
- Pisces Sun/Venus/Moons/Rising can get influenced more easier than others and I can say is that because of their neptunian energy
- Jupiter Dominant natives are wise from a young age, they perceive things differently than other people. They're also very lucky in their life path
- Venus in Fire Signs loves to be chased in love. Like that's a way to show you're interested in them, sometimes they can play hard to get too
- Earth Moons are the most stable people I know both physically and mentally, their are so strong in both things but sometimes they can have a hard time to balance those things out
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- The Ethereal energy of a Virgo Moon is so naturally beautiful, they are the best supporters of people. So charming, calm and kind
- Uranus in the 2nd house can end up buying things they never expected before, for example you never expect to buy a phone you liked before
- Venus conjunct Pluto is so "Obsessed" vibes, people get so obsessed with them very easily, and you know they are damn loyal to you
- Pisces Moons & Moon in the 12th house have an energy like they are sometimes aware of what happens around them and sometimes they are not
- Neptune & Jupiter/Uranus in the 12th house are so spiritually connected with their subconscious, they can sense entities and often experience goosebumps (Spirit Signal)
- South Node in the 9th house can indicate that in a past life you gave your life for religion/God/etc.. and you need to focus more on yourself in this one especially at expressing yourself
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- Sun & Lilith aspects are the most rebellious people you'll met, but they also have a side magnetism to them that makes people to like them
- Guys imagine having a man who wants a traditional wife/spouse but you don't have any 4th house placements like 👁️👄👁️ (Traditional guys scare the sht out of me like go away)
- Sagittarius Sun/Moon/Rising/Mars natives are so wild. Like they can be the wildest people you'll met through your life and do the most craziest things with
- If you have an empty 7th house just look at its ruler everytime you want to discover more about your future spouse (specific person)
For example if you have 7H in Taurus look at your Venus. 7H in Aquarius look at both Saturn and Uranus as your 7th house rulers
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- Mars at Virgo Degrees (6°. 18°) have a good looking/attractive waist. Virgo rules upon that body part and it tells you about your attractiveness
- This is just between us but Mercury - Pluto aspects can be good at lying, if someone has prominent or strong aspects between those they are good liars
- Saturn in the 6th house natives are both productive and tired in the same way. Like you try to be productive or to work and suddenly you get tired.. damn
- I have Saturn quincunx Venus and honestly the energy it feels like having Saturn opposite Venus is just so hard sometimes to fall in love especially if you have questions about a specific person
- Asteroid Juno (3) sextile/trine/conjunct Mars are looking for a really hot, fierce, sparkling relationship like they want everything that's intense
- My asteroid Groom (5129) is at 1° (Aries Degrees family, 1°, 13°, 25°) and I read more about those degrees and I find that the spouse can have some dominant, confident, powerful, leader traits basically describing an Aries
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- 2nd house placements are always hungry or thinking about food. Especially Sun/Moon/Venus in the 2nd house are really power hungry
- Sometimes Pluto/Neptune in the 6th house can indicate problems with health and that you'll need to prioritize your health
- Moon in the 8th house can indicate that in general the women in your family could've have suffered a lot, like your mother/grandmother/grand-grand mother etc..
- Water signs in the 5th house can indicate a passion/talent towards swimming/surfing 🌊
- Sagittarius/Jupiter in the 11th house can indicate that you make friends easily or just connecting with people easily
- In the vedic chart Chitra is my Nakshatra (2nd Pada) if you have the same star in the vedic chart is like a combination between the materialistic and spiritual world and you need to find a balance in between (What I love about this is that Chitra's symbol is a shell 🐚 and I love shells with all my life)
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- Neptune in the 7th house natives can create an illusion about their partners, like creating something that is not real about them, sometimes even fake scenarios
- Gosh people with the 10th house placements really focus mostly in their lives on their career/job/career path like this is so important for them. They really want to succeed
- Venus conjunct Mars or Venus and Mars in the same house makes the native to more passionate towards the lovers in their lives, they're full of surprises
- Neptune square/opposite Moon cannot be aware of their spiritual side or aware of their intuition, but they are so powerful when they search more about it
- Lilith in Water Signs really have beautiful eyes, you will get lost in their ocean eyes 👀, just like a sirene in her natural habitat
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With all the love and peace have a good day today
🐚 Harmoonix 🐚
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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months
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hmmm just imagine Jason Todd with a girlfriend pretty and kind like an angel and everyone is just shocked because 'how they're a couple??"
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Think I went a little of ask for this one 😂 🦦
Jason calls you his angel for a reason.
You’re sweet, you’re kind, you’re downright beautiful/gorgeous and withheld an equally sweet, kind soul that bleeds through everything that you did or said. When you met Jason he was on the cusp of unconsciousness, finding him just slumped at your front door, severely injured. Anyone else who knew better would’ve left him but no, not you. You brought him -THE RedHood- into your house and home out of the kindness of your heart and patched him up as best as you could.
Heaven sent is another name of endearment that Jason called you and it held true on a plethora of occasions where he would find himself being dragged back at your doorstep, and it wasn’t long after that did Jason finally allow himself to pursue a chance at happiness by your side, and he’d be damned if it wasn’t the best decision he’s ever made in his entire life because being with you had been nothing short of a dream for Jason. A dream he never thought he’d get to live with the fucked up ordeal of having came back from the dead.
However when his family manages to catch wind of this because nothing stays secret for long, not by a long shot, their first thought was; how?
This wasn’t a slight towards Jason or his character but they couldn’t help but feel as though they’ve blinked and missed something extremely pivotal for this to have become the end result. They weren’t the only one to share this sentiment though as even Jason would be taken aback by your differences and often wondered if you were too different for your relationship to work.
It does however and it was one of the only times where Jason was grateful for being wrong for getting inside his own head, and just before he possibly ruins the best thing that has ever happened to him in a long, long while by self sabotage too. God only knows how much Jason would’ve hated himself for doing such a heinous thing to someone as underserving of such treatment as you.
So when Dick asks him one day ‘how did you manage to get someone like them?’ Whilst gesturing to you as you talked with the likes of Duke, Stephanie and Cass and getting along. Jason couldn’t think of a clear answer that would be enough to satisfy his brother’s curiosity because how was he meant to answer that question without it sounding generic and unoriginal.
‘Did you use any offhanded tactics to get them to be in a relationship with you?’ Damian asks and Dick gives him a look, only for the younger of the two of them to shrug his shoulders. ‘It was only a simple question Grayson.’
‘Yeah, just not one you ask when your brother comes home for the first time in months, and in a relationship nonetheless with the epitome of sweetness.’ Dick replied before looking over to Jason who was looking over at you with soft yet protective look on his face, but before Dick could say anything about how nothing was going to happen to you whilst in the Wayne Manor, Jason had already found the answer he has been looking for the entire evening.
‘They saved me.’ In the moment he said those words you looked over at him, Dick and Damian and smiled brightly that it never failed to knock the air out of Jason’s lungs upon seeing it. His angel, his heaven sent, the face he is blessed to see first and last thing in the mornings and late nights where he gently scolds you for staying up for him before kisses you in gratitude for doing so anyway.
Dick seemed content with this answer and meanwhile Damian looked visibly indifferent, he made a noise that said that he was also satisfied with this answer, just in time too as you came over to Jason and subtly held his pinkie with your own as you kissed his cheek. ‘You didn’t to tell me how cool your siblings were Jay!’ You began when Dick decided to join in on it too as he looked as Jason, betrayed. ‘You didn’t? Why not? Is it because you want your lovely partner to always be biased towards you?’ He pouts.
You chuckled and patted Jason on the bicep as you addressed Dick. ‘I’m always going to be bias towards my Jason.’ You admitted, causing a wave of warmth to flood Jason’s entire body upon hearing your confident confession. ‘For he is simply the best man I have ever met and that will never change.’
‘Never?’ Dick asked.
‘Never.’ You answered.
‘Even if he may be in the wrong sometimes?’ Damian asked this time and you shrugged, still smiling. ‘Not all of us are perfect beings and that’s a reality I’d accept rather than one where we’re all without flaw, physical or otherwise.’ Jason felt as though he might combust from your words alone but managed to compose himself enough to press a kiss to your temple to whisper against it. ‘Thank you baby.’
‘Anything for you Jaybirdie.’ You responded in kind, feeling him take hold of your hand, intertwining your fingers together as you rested your head against his bicep as you both continued to talk with Damian and Dick.
Yours and Jason’s relationship may not be what many expected it to be or make logical but why should it when you and Jason were more than happy together?
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igotanidea · 5 months
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Not enough: Anthony Bridgerton x reader
(Part 2 to too much)
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„I am so terribly sorry for the inconvenience I might have brought on you with my sudden appearance-” she started while walking inside the place of her destination or, to put it more bluntly, after fleeting from her own house upon not-so-subtle fight with her still-husband.
„Y/n! Nonsense my dear, your presence is always welcomed here.” she heard in response and for the first time since the argument she managed to look into the eyes of another person as well as take in the scene in front of her.
Oh dear lord!
Her timing couldn’t be more wrong.
Apparently the only person who was missing from the widow viscountess Bridgerton household was the queen herself, since not only the lady of the house alongside with all her unmarried daughters were enjoying the afternoon tea, but - to Y/N’s very well hidden terror - the duchess and lady Danburry were present as well.
„duchess.” Y/N bowed in the most polite manner she could even though her knees were shaking „lady Danburry.”
Act like nothing happened.
Behave like a lady and not like a little kid, who came her to pour all her worries and tell on her husband who happened to be mean. The last thing she needed was for everyone to talk about her nervousness and giddiness. None of those ladies would be easily fooled and most definitely not lady Danburry with her nosy nature and piercing gaze.
The point was to visit her favourite sister-in-law Eloise who- luckily - were free of any marriage troubles and gain some perspective but that scenario flew away with the gentle summer breeze faster than Y/N could think.
And now she would be kindly invited to join the tea and the respect for widower viscountess alongside with the obligation to the higher positioned duchess (even if family) would forbid her from declining.
„Y/N.” Daphne sent her that tiny, quite shy smile that didn’t calm the nerves even in the slightest. Yes, the duchess was one of the most polite and subtle person in the society, but she was also happily married with another baby on the way.
„Viscountess Bridgerton.” the oldest, lady Danburry on the opposite was known from her sharp tongue and straightforward attitude. That one did not pull her punches.
„My dearest Y/N.” Violet Bridgerton, the mother in law stood up from her place and hugged the girl close. Obviously she was the most open one with her emotions. And the simple warm welcome made Y/n feel a bit strengthened to the point when she even gave a little smile. Tiniest, but honest and still visible.
„Is Anthony with you my dear?’
„Unfortunately my husband is absorbed with the matter of the household today.” Y/N explained, taking a seat next to Violet. „I was rather confused with all the men’s affairs, which brought me here.”
„confused?” Eloise, of whose presence everyone seemed to forget scoffed from her book „You are way smarter that Anthony is, Y/n!”
„Eloise!” her mother friendly scolded her second daughter
„It’s true mama!”
„Even though-’
„Did you come baring notices by any chance, viscountess?" lady Agatha cut into the family exchange innocently taking a sip of her tea, those sharp eyes of a predator glistening
„Notices?”
„Yes viscountess, notices. It;s been a fair amount of time since the marriage, surely something should happen soon between two people who are lucky enough to be in love as much as yo and the viscount?”
Oh...
Oh, she meant that kind of notices.
„May this be so, Y/n?” Daphne asked seeming uncharacteristically brisk. „shall we expect?”
„I certainly hope she won’t be burdened with the heir to the title any time soon--”
‘Eloise!”
„Is it the only purpose of a woman to be obedient to a man and give him children?!”
All the four older woman in the room went quiet and Eloise realised she might have had said a little bit too much. Not only for the lady but in general.
„I suppose our dearest Y/N would love to become a mother and bless us with the little boy or girl, am I correct?”
Of course I would love to, Violet.
I would love to.
Unfortunately so it happens your oldest son refuses to even speak or look at me, let alone performing his so-called marital duty. Which is even more tragic, since I became one to him. Here is the essence of my existence - forever being reminded of the burden I put on his shoulder with storming into his life.
Obviously those thoughts were something the newest viscountess Bridgerton could not form out loud.
„I shall send the regards to my husband ladies. Certainly will not omit to inform him of the expectation placed upon us both.” was the only thing she managed to say with confidence before her voice broke and she covered the sudden wavering by reaching for the sweet placed on the nearby platter.
„Oh my dearest Y/N, it’s no obligation!” Violet seemed quite hurt by the words spoken by her daughter-in-law „Regardless - a child is always a miracle that-”
„Maybe Y/N wouldn’t have to worry about it, if Anthony were taking more interest in her rather than spending time with Benny and Colin.”
„Eloise!”
„It’s just a simple observation! Benedict and Colin are still bachelors, even though the ladies of kind are sharpening their claws for them both, considering the fact the viscountess title is not longer available. Nonetheless, neither of them seem to be interested in taking in marriage-”
‘Eloise!” Violet called upon her daughter once more
„Perhaps if they weren’t spending their times in the club, effectively convincing Anthony to go with them--”
‘Enough, young lady!”
„But-”
„Enough Eloise.”
Y/N went pale at all the words spoken. Not because of their truthfulness, but due to the fact that the word already got out. This was a calamity she was trying her best to cover up and now her favourite member of the family announced them to the world, not thinking about the possible consequences of aforementioned action.
„Y/N, are you quite all right?” Daphne was the first one to take some action „that sudden pallor cannot be good for you. Shall we take a walk?”
Naturally the little stroll around the room will be something to make her feel better. Luckily the most perceptive Eloise noticed the torpid expression on the viscountess face and, not giving her sister any chance to press the matter further, vigorously explained that Daphne certainty meant an actual promenade outside on the manor grounds and that was something y/n was more than delighted to engage in.
Presenting a perfect opportunity to actually indulge in a meaningful conversation not regarding children and submission due to a woman.
***
On the other side of the city Anthony didn’t even notice his wife’s actual absence.
How could he, when she was always present and vivid in his mind, leaving him with her image in front of his eyes even when she was away from him.
Y/N’s face and silhouette, her smile and her resonant, joyful laughter were forever carved in his mind, ever since the day she laughed at him at the lake upon their first meeting, through the first moment of stolen forbidden intimacy, up to the moment looked into her eyes while vowing to love and to cherish her.
His beautiful bride.
His beautiful wife.
Strong willed, hot headed, always having an opinion of her own and doing things her own way, capable to charm everyone with the cheerful character and most natural humor and intelligence.
All the traits that could not be bought by any of the obedient, quiet and shy ladies from high society.
All the traits that put him under her spell and made him want to spend the rest of his life with Y/n.
Only with her.
And he didn’t want to fight, he wanted the same kind of marriage his own parents were joyful to share.
It was all so perfect, until the moment those bright memories got covered with storm clouds of how he behave towards her.  
Not that the viscount gave them much thoughts, too lost in his own meaningless settlements that were not due till the fore-coming month.
It was easier this way.
Forgetting about all the words he said int he moment of anger and of fear (if not mere terror) of his own emotions.
Emotions that, unfortunately, refused to be closed in a hard shell of harsh, obsessive behaviour and being ignored.
Once let out, they wanted to run free.
And oh, so they did, causing the viscount to feel dizzy and giving him palpitations.
All the marriages had their bad moments.
It was impossible to continue for years keeping the same flame that started years ago.
The wife was supposed to be obedient and comply with her husband wishes, especially not bothering him with her presence and whimsical needs or fairy-tell beliefs.
A lady was a diamond in the crown but a wife became a part of the estate, of the livestock. Forever in her husband’s hand to rule.
He was the the man.
He was the viscount and before he met her she was just another long-forgotten by admirers débutante desperate to--
No.
No this was not true and as much as it would be comfortable for Anthony to dwell in all those thoughts, his heart was still in the right place giving him a very clear signal it was time to stop justifying his previous action. Those were the foundation for a very unstable and fragile house that could be blown away easily.
Maybe it wasn’t that his emotions were too much. Maybe it was that his heart capacity was not enough to contain the amount of affection he held for his one and only.
His Y/N.
And he couldn’t have that.
He had to find her wherever she might have been.
He had to fight for her and make it all right.
Even if that meant getting back on his knees, making a scene straight out of those unrealistic romance novels ladies loved and putting it into practice.
„Where on earth is my wife?!” he yelled to the servants, opening the door to his office, his voice loud enough to make the walls shake.
I’m coming for you, my viscountess.
My love.
***
It's not over yet!
Edit: part 3 : almost there
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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months
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Eat your Young (viking!Konig x fem!Reader)
You weren't afraid when the Vikings came. Your ruler pays them well, and they protect you from enemies far worse - there is nothing to worry about as you, an unmarried maiden, wander into the embrace of one of them. They are on your side. Right? Tags and CWs: Age gap, size difference, Konig is a bit obsessive and a huge perv, mentions of violence, Vikings Are Actually Kinda Nice No For Real, hand jobs, oral sex, naked man/clothed woman, slightly historically inaccurate, jokes about inbreeding Thanks to @angelbabysblog for the idea. I changed quite a lot because I was reading articled about how many of the Slavic cities were actually cool with Vikings and worked with them AO3
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The Vikings are here. Your Father never allowed you to meet them before – as an unmarried girl, even if you’re already of age, it would be…scandalous. Not smart. Dumb, really – everyone knows that girls that are messing with the warrior from overseas often end up being taken away. And you couldn’t survive sea travel. The Vikings are here, but it’s not really a problem – you know that there are other countries over the sea, the countries that die and burn every time a ship is sailed in their harbors. You also know that you do not live in a country like that. That sound of Vikings approaching is a good one – that you’ll be protected from the other enemies your country has. You always stole glances, despite what your father has told you – you were a curious thing, always searching for trouble, always interested in everyone outside of your small village. You’re on the border – stuck between sea and great plains, open for any enemy if it weren’t for mercenaries who deemed this place as worthy of their camp. They live here, occupying the territory outside – even build themselves houses, despite every rumor calling them nothing more but overseas barbarians who would tear you down for a flick of a coin. 
Well, you always thought you’d have nothing to worry about – you are not made of coins, after all. The Vikings had a leader, the one that stayed in the long house just outskirts of the village – the one that would always visit the elders, discussing the payments and the spoils of war. Father always punished you if any nosy neighbor would see you sneaking out to look at the warriors – but you couldn’t care less. If you are going to end up in a marriage with a fool, you could at least steal a few looks at the real men. Not the ones from your village – they felt more like brothers than anything else. Some of them were – second, third, fourth, just diluted enough to make the babies a bit less disfigured. 
But, oh, nothing compared to the vikings. You see them when you run for the lake, far from the shore. They are clean – cleaner than sailors from Byzantine who sometimes stumbled upon the small village by the sea. You think you heard them talking about how cleanliness is a sin – and just how silly it sounded. You think you didn’t like people from this place very much – sailors were often drunk, always handsy and never spared a kind word without an insult…not that you knew their language – but you are smart enough to know that if a man is attempting to grasp your breasts while sneering something through his teeth, it won’t be a love poem. 
— What are you doing here? 
Ah. 
You were spotted. Like a fox in a hunter’s trap – you are standing in the tall water grass, looking at the man through the weeping willow branches. Maybe, if you are lucky enough, he’d think you were a mavka, trying to drown him – some men were foolish enough to fall for the act, sparing you the consequences of your curiosity. You aren’t sure if the Vikings have legends of mavkas – if they even have lakes back where they are from. All travelers are mixed in your head – desserts, great plains, barbarians who would steal your sisters if you’d been blessed with some. Sea beasts who will take you on your ship, away from your father and…ah, it doesn’t sound too bad. 
— Can’t you talk? 
His voice is rough, and accented. Younger than you thought he would be with a body like this – a seasoned warrior, ginger hair covering his muscular chest and a small trail falling down his…
Viking knows your language. Shouldn’t be surprising – they are working for the elders and your ruler, after all. They get gold from your village, they get food from your village. They get sons – you heard about at least some of the women falling pregnant to the guests overseas. No one dares to say anything against it – but the rumors are still falling. You wonder if it’s as bad as it sounds. — I can talk. 
This sounds dumb, but there is no use in hiding. Your intentions weren’t innocent – you are curious and curiosity is what leads to the devil. Or god of death. Or goddess – you are not well-versed in matters of spirit and while half of your village is still worshipping old gods while the other preaches about new, stronger ones, you wonder what kind of beliefs Vikings have. You heard their women can wield magic – and can count. And read. You would love to read, you think. — Gut. Thought I spotted a Margygr.
The word is weird. Rough. You don’t know what that is, but you certainly aren’t one. You take a step forward, not caring that your linen dress is getting drenched in water – not caring about what your father might say after. You would just tell him you wanted to go and drown since he was so adamant on marrying you off to some one-eyed half-wit quarter brother of yours. He wouldn’t be surprised – and you probably wouldn’t be missed. A whore to be, as some older women from your village would say. 
— What is that? 
He tilts his head to the side, his blue eyes looking at you. You notice a piece of cloth in his hands – something that must have been covering his face, you think. He is covered in scars and dirt, blood from some battle is getting washed away into the water of the lake. Gods, you say to yourself – you won’t even be drinking from it again. Although you promised it to yourself a few years ago already, when you spotted a dead deer lying in the water – and it’s not like you held to your promise. Better than seawater, after all. — A…drowned creature. Drowning creature. Your people are calling them… — Oh. Mavka. — Others call it mermaid. Selkie. Mermaid sounds harsh too. Rude. Other languages are rude – still, you would like to know more. Still, you would like to do anything to get out of your village. Learn to read. To write. Maybe hold a baby goat close to your chest and not have it ripped away for the nearest dinner. 
— I’m not…that. 
— I can see. 
He laughs and you steal a peak at his manhood. You should be ashamed, really – if your dear mother was alive, she’d beat you up for being so immodest. If your dear mother was alive, you wouldn’t be allowed to sneak out like that – but she isn’t, so you stare at the man who can crush your skull in one hand. You stare at the trail of ginger hair going down his waist. The muscles flexing and the scars on his hips, glossy from cold lake water. 
Hm. 
Is it supposed to be this big? 
He coughs and you peek to look at him again. Coughing isn’t good – he can be sick. Contangenous. There is a sickness coming around from sailor to sailor – you wonder if vikings have it too. You don’t want to get sick – but it would surely keep you out of marriage for a long while. Maybe, if you’re lucky enough, you could be buried like a pretty maiden. White dress and mourning relatives. That would teach them how to send you off to marry some dumb cousin you never knew before. Or knew too well. — You shouldn’t come here, Schatzen. 
— Why? 
— My men won’t be as nice as I am when they see a maiden in the lake. 
You smile, tilting your head to the side. There are rumors – you can’t invite foreign mercenaries into your country without them taking their toll on the locals. Some people like them, some people are scared of them. Some are going out of the ordeal pregnant and some are not returning at all. But, you can run. But, this is your lake. You like it here – the quiet, the tranquility. You think that if your father proceed with calling you an old bride who should be married as soon as possible, you could just run away and live here. Fish is nice and there are berries when it’s not too cold. — Where are your men? 
You never saw Vikings in battle. Never saw a group of them up close – you’d like to, of course. There are warriors in your village, but their best shot is wolves and deer. Not other men – you think you’d like to see war sometimes. Maybe, all the boys of age would die and you won’t have to worry about anything anymore. You would be nice as a local witch – or a local healer. Old hag sounds nice too. — Around. Waiting for the order. — What order? 
You ask so many questions, König thinks. Pretty thing – smart, too. You aren’t afraid of him, even though you have to be. Most women would be screaming and crying if they saw someone like him in the lake next to them. Not Viking women of course – but people from around here are soft. Cherished. Coddled. You also seem soft, too soft, too gentle – a woman living in a small village on the shore without a husband shouldn’t be this careless. König knows you’re just lucky that the ruler of your country is kind enough to pay the overseas mercenaries instead of suffering the pillaging. Not all of people are this lucky. 
If he won’t get a promised weight in gold this village won’t be lucky either. 
König looks at your sweet face, at the way your eyes constantly dart to his crotch. Curious little thing you are – he isn’t sure if he is that happy that the payments have been consistent up to this point. That he can’t just screw this all over and demand a payment in other ways. That pillaging this village and taking all of its women isn’t really an option while they get their gold from here. Your long linen dress clings to your skin - you’re shaking, he notices. From cold, probably, dumb lady who is too curious for her own good. Hm. He has furs not far from here. He can…
— We’re protecting the shore. The border, too. You smile, nodding. And here he thought the locals knew why the foreigners were here – but he can’t expect too much, he guesses. At least it seems like you haven’t heard of most of his accomplishments. The rivers of blood would be enough to fill this whole lake three times. Or, maybe, you heard – and didn’t care, brave and fearless little thing. König likes the sound of that. 
— Are you cold? 
You ask him, to his surprise. Your gaze is switching from his face – he is open, cheeks flushed from the cold and a maiden right next to him, and he can’t even find it in himself to cover his scarred mug – to his cock. It’s standing proudly, heavy, balls hanging low as if asking to be held in your soft palms. König isn’t embarrassed – but he is surprised that your body, showing only a little bit in that dress of yours, is already enough to make him this bothered. This ready to give up the supposed protection of this village and take what’s his. — You can warm me. 
You tilt your head to the side, mimicking his action from earlier. Curious bird – he could keep you at his ship. Tied up to the post, ready for anyone to use you. You’re strong, and resilient. Should survive the long way home – and he is getting quite ready to find someone at last. If the ruler of your little kingdom won’t be as stingy as the previous one, König can walk away with a sack of gold hanging on his shoulder. Enough for him and for him men. Surely enough to sway you. — How? 
— Do you have a husband? 
He knows, you probably don’t. A husband wouldn’t allow his wife to run around and flirt with other men – and if König was yours, he surely would keep you locked in like the treasure you are. There is too many men ready to take what doesn’t belong to them. 
— No. And I won’t.
— Why? — Soon I will be too old to be a bride anyway. Not that I want it. He laughs at that. Surely, little bird, it wouldn’t be your choice. If the luck is on his side, it wouldn’t even be the choice of your father. — Touch me, Schatzen. You want it, ja? 
He says this with more awkwardness than before. Swaying women by his side isn’t his strong suit – and even with his strength, not many of them would just throw themselves at him. Being a mercenary leader might bring him money but with the whole team consisting of equally strong and handsome men, the broody leader usually isn’t the first choice. He gets his fill eventually – but not the one that would make his heart flutter. With you, however… Your hands are traveling down his abs. Caressing every bit of skin you see – sending goosebumps down his navel and straight to his hard and leaking cock. He wonders if you’ve done this before – but your actions are the one of an explorer, not a professional. YOu grab his cock with both hands almost as if strangling him, and König lets go with a choked moan. 
You retrieve your hands, nervous. Good girl. Eager, pretty. Such a shame this village usually pays its tolls. — Are you hurt? 
— Nein, it’s…go on. You proceed to touch him, the softness of your touches is making him groan from pleasure. This is something else – you’re something else. Having the power to bring a seasoned warrior to his knees – god, how much he liked the way you looked at him. Eager and curious, always going down to touch his cock some more. You press your palm together, making s steady rhythm – using the pre-cum from his cockhead like a lube. 
König relishes in the feeling – he might be one of the strongest soldiers, but it was the first time he felt victorious. With your hand pumping his cock up and down, the pleasure settling in his stomach and threatening to burst, he felt like a king. No, the king. Gods, you were beautiful. Worthy of throwing this village into the fire for. Worthy risking the payment. Your mouth is warm on his manhood – he didn’t expect you to be this active, to wrap your lips around the bulging head and bop your head just a bit. Up and down. Tongue swirling, as if tasting him. Making him sweat that you will decide to take a bite out of it, just to satisfy your curiosity. To his peace, you didn’t. He came shortly after you decided to put your mouth on him – when your tongue started to swirl around and collect the bitter taste of his pre-cum. When your curiosity about foreign warriors bathing in your lake finally made you do something about it – and he would feel bad about pressing a hand in your hair and forcing you to choke on his length, your nails digging small red paths in his pale thighs. You choke and squirm and cry and this is the sweetest sound he ever heard – so when he finally drags you away from his cock, smiling as you wipe your mouth and whimper. Squirm again, some more. The light in your faded a little as he pushed one calloused finger into his mouth and pushed your lips apart. Poor thing, he thinks. — You did good, little bird. 
His seed tastes weird on the tongue. You wince, but swallow – it’s what good brides should do, you think. Somehow, looking at this warrior, you don’t feel so bad about being considered a bride. Maybe…no. You stalled here for long enough – you saw the Viking. You touched him. Tasted him. Father is probably looking for you. 
You don’t even bother to say goodbye as you come out of the water – but König stops you right on the edge of the lake, firm hand on your shoulder. Squeezing. Touching. Feeling. 
— I…I apologize, maiden. I lost control. 
His voice is hesitant. You don’t like how unsure he sounds. It made you feel unsure too. Weird. Uncertain and meek. 
— Are you going to leave soon? 
He stops mumbling, looking into your eyes. This is settled – he is not leaving you here. You must return to your family, say your goodbyes. Maybe enjoy a few weeks of peace before his troupe finally gets a clearing on killing whatever enemies grouped at the border – and he will take you no matter the payment your ruler can give him. Nothing will be worth more than you. 
— Yes. Yes, I will. You turn away, almost running. He didn’t stop you this time – you need to get as much freedom in your lungs as you can. He will take you eventually and, well…you best enjoy freedom as much as you could before this. 
When your village will burn along with all the cousins, half-triple brothers, and elders, you’ll find out why most countries fear the Vikings. When you will be hauled to the wooden ship over a giant’s shoulder, with his hand sitting firmly on your ass and his other palm preventing you from screaming, you’d know why taking the attention of overseas mercenaries is a bad idea. When your ruler would refuse to pay the warriors for their service and force them to just take everything by force, you’d know why making payments on time is so important. 
When König would finally make you his wife, you’d understand why you should have drowned in that lake instead. 
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alrightieaphroditie · 20 days
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wipe my tears away | j.m.
*:·゚✧ series masterlist | previous part!
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pairing *:·゚ afab!reader x joel miller wc *:·゚6.6k  warnings *:·゚18+! minors please do not interact!! talk of period pain, hormonal emotions, crying, kissing, some manhandling (if you squint), sad attempt at dirty talk, period play (lightly), fingering, maybe some degradation (not really sure), clit stimulation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (f receiving), squirting/messy cum, p in v penetration (not protected, do better!), one mention of blood… please let me know if i’m missing any major ones!  an *:·゚this is for the girlies who get over emotional during their periods (they are me, i am them). this is a bit longer than intended, but once i got in the zone i literally couldn’t stop, so i hope y’all will enjoy it! kind of unedited, so if anything major jumps out feel free to comment lol. i also wrote this with correct capitalization, where all my previous fics were lowercase bc i couldn’t be bothered to turn on auto caps, so let me know if y’all prefer this format!  check the series masterlist for the series tags!
synopsis *:·゚ joel comes home to find you laying in bed, crying because of period pain. he may not be a full gentleman, but he wouldn’t let you suffer when he has a trick up his sleeve to help sooth the cramps. 
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The pain that begins in your lower abdomen, the feeling that radiates throughout the rest of your lower body with enough force to make you wince, isn’t entirely new. It’s a monthly occurrence, actually. One that you feel like you should be used to by now, considering it’s plagued you for more than half your life. 
But the outbreak had already happened when you first got your period as a teen, and for a while, your body wasn’t receiving the nutrients it needed to sustain that kind of function. It was a double-edged sword, the way you were appreciative that you haven’t had it this bad your entire life, while ruminating on the losses that occurred due to the infection. 
Because it was a different story, now. 
Now, you were eating more than you could ever remember before. Jackson was a thriving community, after all. And you were beyond blessed that you were one of the lucky ones who got to reside within its gates. Now, your body was properly fed and being taken care of for the first time in years, and that double-edged sword reared in your mind again; thankful for the safe space you’ve landed upon, but God, at what cost? Your period pain took you out for days each month, making you feel like a burden even though you physically couldn’t help it. 
Your toe stubbed against a chair in your living room as another cramp worked its way through your body, causing you to cry out for more than one reason. Tears filled your waterline, and a heavy sigh escaped past your lips. The rough material of your jeans was digging into your waistline, your hair felt heavy against your neck and each strand that brushed against your cheek made you want to cut it off, and you just felt so useless. Some logical part of your brain realized this wasn’t really you feeling this way, it was just the hormonal shift, but that didn’t provide any sense of comfort as the tears continued to glide down your face. 
In some ways, you were lucky, as today had been your day off from helping around Jackson. Otherwise, that sense of being a burden to everyone would’ve increased tenfold. You couldn't stop feeling like a burden to yourself, though. You had made a perfectly organized to-do list that was hanging on your fridge of things you wanted to tackle today. 
Your sheets needed to be washed. The floors needed to be swept and mopped, especially after the rain, as Joel and Ellie continued to trek mud through your house by accident. Maria had given you some of the spices that grew in abundance, and you wanted to make one of those simmer pots on the stove that she kept mentioning. 
But doing those chores was the last thing on your mind right now, as another cramp racked its way through your body. Now, you just wanted to go lay in bed wearing nothing but Joel's shirt that you had thrown on earlier and cry while hugging a pillow.
 And so, that’s what you did. 
Your vision was watery as your fingers swiftly worked to unbutton your pants, your feet carrying you out of the living room and into your bedroom before you really even realized what you were doing. Once you hit your bedside, you tugged the jeans down your legs, letting them pool at your feet and leaving them on the ground as you crawl into bed, feeling about as pathetic as you probably looked. Curling up on your side, you reach out blindly and grab onto Joel's pillow, tucking it against your body and letting it provide you a false sense of comfort. After that, the tears start flowing freely. 
You didn’t know how long you laid there, didn’t know how long the sound of your sniffles had filled the room or how long you pressed the pillow against your abdomen. The cramps were still relentless, and it wasn’t like you even had any medicine you could take; expired Tylenol did absolutely nothing anymore. You wish you were more used to this feeling, this pain. But it seemed like the longer you were at Jackson, the worse the symptoms became each month. You had yet to figure out the remedies that were foolproof for this feeling. 
Continuous tears turned into lonely, stray droplets as you held onto the pillow. The room was silent except for the occasional sniff. You had zeroed in on an undone thread on the pillowcase, not paying attention to your surroundings, so you didn’t hear the sound of the front door being pushed open, or the sound of Joel's work boots stomping across the wooden floors. In the corners of your mind, you recognized the voice that was muttering to himself outside your room, but your eyes stayed focused on that singular thread. 
The thought of it being lonely, being apart from the other threads holding the fabric together, made your eyes water again. You could put yourself in its position, the ever present fear of being alone daunting you even now, and that was enough to send the tears over your waterline, racing down your cheeks and onto the pillow once again. The hiccup that came from your inhale was the noise that had the footfalls move towards your room, and through your blurry vision you saw the outline of Joel standing in the doorway. 
“What's wrong?” Through your sniffles, you could sense his urgency, his rough voice filled with nothing but concern, and maybe a little worry. His gaze swept over your body, checking for any possible injury. This was the first time he’d seen you break down to this level, and the sight of you curled into a fetal position, tears streaming down your face with his pillow in your grasp… he prayed to God that another person wasn’t involved with making you feel this way.
It would be a shame to lose his good reputation amongst Jackson because he had to beat some fucker up. 
Your gaze swung up to his face, and you made yourself blink harshly to expel the lingering tears. His face came into focus, the worry lines on his forehead becoming more clear to compliment the frown on his full lips. He had a spot of dirt streaking across his forehead, and his clothes were dirty from spending the day working outside. For whatever reason, the fact that Joel had been out working in the heat for most of the day while you couldn’t even manage to get up and wash your bedsheets made your emotions spiral even more. What is wrong with me? you wondered, hugging the pillow tighter to your body. 
The sound of his work bag hitting the floor echoed through the room, soon followed by the shuffle of his boots being kicked off his feet. His hands were gently pulling the pillow away before you could even register that he was in front of you now, but you felt the bed dip under his weight as he perched himself at the edge. His broad hand rested on your elbow before sliding up your arm, gently caressing your skin until he reached the side of your face. The calluses on his thumb scratched against your skin as he swiped the digit under your eye, wiping away the tears that had pooled. 
“Baby, what’s wrong?” his voice was softer this time, comforting you in a way that had you feeling alright for the first time today. You leaned up on your elbows, and Joel helped guide you into a sitting position across from him, your hands holding on to one of his while his other cupped your face, thumb swiping against skin. The action of sitting up had your cramps rearing their ugly heads again, and your wince was subtle but extremely obvious to Joel, evident by the furrowing of his eyebrows. 
“My uterus is what’s wrong,” the scratchiness of your throat had you coughing slightly, and you worked to clear it before trying again, voice nearly as weak as you felt. “I'm on my period.” Joel's eyes widened in surprise at your admission, but he quickly schooled his features.
This wasn’t his first rodeo; he’d been with you for awhile now, but noticed that each month your symptoms were different. Sometimes, your sudden anger at everything gave away the fact that it was that time of the month. Other times, it was your sweet tooth and your cravings that gave it away. Rarely was it your tears, though, and his heart lurched at this new response. 
When your hands went to wrap around your stomach, applying pressure lightly to help ease the throbbing, his free hand came up to the other side of your face. “‘m sorry, darlin. Know that ain’t the best feeling in the world,” his thumbs were doing a stand up job at wiping away the tears on your cheeks, and soon the only sign that you had been crying was the red glaze surrounding your pupils. 
And the occasional sniffle. 
You leaned into his touch, eyes closing at the surprising amount of comfort that you felt from a pair of hands. You always felt at peace with Joel, though, so you weren’t surprised that his hands had this effect on you. You focused on the rough pads of his skin against the smooth texture of your own, taking in big breaths of air through your nose as your crying spell passed through you. Now you were thinking a little more clearly and felt a little embarrassed by the fact that Joel had walked in on you crying over a thread on a pillow case. Not that he’d ever know that’s what you were crying about. 
“It's okay. I'm sorry if i scared you or anything,” you started, opening your eyes to meet Joel's dark gaze. You offered him a small smile. “I really just need to learn how to deal with these cramps without them taking over my day. They seem to be getting worse and worse each month.” Your hands trailed up to grip his forearms, squeezing them affectionately as a wave of exhaustion flitted through your body. 
Joel's eyes squinted slightly. “Cramps, huh?” he mused, the corner of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly. In the far corner of his mind, he recalled a younger Tommy swearing by a foolproof activity that helped one of his girlfriends with her cramps when medicine didn’t cut it. He wasn’t sure he believed Tommy then, or even now, for that matter. But he knew how much you struggled with the pain, and he’d feel like a real jerk if he didn’t at least give this a go. 
“Think I know somethin’ that could help with that.” He pulled your head forward, pressing a chaste kiss on top of your forehead before dropping his hands and pushing off of the bed. You were slightly dazed, partly at the display of affection but also at the quickness in which Joel was walking to the bathroom. When he came back into the room with an old towel, you couldn’t help but look at him suspiciously. 
“Joel…”
“Do you trust me?” He asked, tossing the towel on the bed and leaning down to look at you, eye to eye. His demeanor was calm, but his eyes shined with a hint of mischievousness, and the smirk on his mouth was nothing but trouble. It made him look younger, almost. Like the gray in his beard and around the temples of his hair was there prematurely. You wondered if he was like that more before the outbreak, and you reveled in this glimpse of his past self that he was allowing you to see. 
“Of course I do.” Your answer was absolute, eyes showing no signs of distrust or wariness as you maintained contact with Joel’s. He reveled in the sureness of your answer, in the fact that it didn’t even take you more than a second to respond to his question. The smirk became a full blown grin, and you couldn’t help but mirror it on your own face as you wondered what the heck this man was thinking. 
“Good. In that case, I'm gonna go clean myself up,” his lips pressed against yours in a swift kiss before he backed away, fingers stretching to the hem of his t-shirt. “You’re gonna strip out of those panties, spread that towel out underneath you, and wait for me to come back. Okay?” One of his eyebrows notched up, awaiting your response. 
“Sir, yes, sir,” you teased, sending him off with a mocking salute. It earned you an eye roll, something he had been picking up more and more from Ellie's influence, no doubt. The sound of your giggle followed him into the bathroom, where he quickly worked to discard his dirty clothes and rinse off. The thought of you laying in bed with just his t-shirt on had him adjusting himself underneath the water stream. 
Meanwhile, you were working at a slower pace. 
You gingerly took the threadbare towel between your hands, kneeling up on your knees to place it where you thought would work best. You were starting to get an idea of what Joel was planning, and while you’ve never done anything like this before, you weren’t absolutely hating it. After you had smoothed the fabric out, you climbed back against the pillows, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of your panties and sliding them down. The pad on the inside showed slight signs of blood, so at least you weren’t bleeding too heavily right now. Usually that came after a day or two of the cramps. 
You were combing your fingers through your hair when Joel walked back into the room, pausing at the threshold while you both took each other in. His hair was damp, droplets of water occasionally dripping on his forehead, brushed back at the edges and the tops to keep it out of his face. He had been growing it out a little longer, though you knew when summer fully came around, it’d be time to clip it. 
He’d changed out of a plain, gray t-shirt into another plain, gray t-shirt - clearly a staple in his wardrobe - and you had to admire the way he was filling it out. The sleeves hugged the middle of his biceps, straining against the pure muscle that had been building up. The shirt fit loose around his chest, but you could see the way it was snug around his tummy area, the small pouch of his stomach highlighted by the thin material. 
You weren’t the only one who had been eating better since arriving at Jackson; Joel was starting to bulk up and you were loving it. 
Having ended his workday earlier, and foreseeing spending the rest of the day in bed with you, he had pulled on a pair of flannel pajama pants that clung to his thighs and offered very little to the imagination when it came to the thick imprint between his legs. The sight of him had your thighs clenching together automatically, heat racing through your body like a fever. 
And he knew it, too. You could tell by the smirk on his lips, the way his gaze strayed from your eyes to your legs. He loved having that affect on you, loved seeing how needy you became by just the thought of being with him. 
He walked to the other side of the bed, his eyes focused solely on you in his red shirt, the way your legs were crossed at the bottom, giving him just the smallest peak of bare skin underneath. You listen to him so well, he couldn’t help but admire. You gave him your trust so easily, and that was one of the few things that Joel considered to be precious in this world. He'd never make you regret that choice. 
Leaning up on your elbows, your body naturally turned towards him when he finally settled himself on his side next to you. One of his arms slipped behind your head, tucking you into his body as the other came up to guide your face to his. His lips were soft against your own, and all the tension you had felt from crying earlier completely disappeared. 
Your hands clung to his arm as he kissed you, a soft sigh escaping through your lips. Joel took the opening to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue against your bottom lip before dipping it into your mouth. Your mind was growing fuzzy, and you simply let Joel manipulate you how he wanted, eagerly offering yourself to him. 
His mouth stayed on yours, your noses brushing against each other with every tilt of the head, but his hand strayed from your cheek. It paved a path to the collar of the t-shirt, where he fisted the material and tugged it towards himself, halfway pulling you on top of him with the movement. Your hands flung out to his chest to stop yourself from completely crashing into him, and a groan sounded against your mouth as Joel felt the tips of your fingers dig into the skin. 
He soon abandoned the collar, letting his palm slide down the expanse of your torso and bunching the shirt up a little before settling it right over your lower abdomen, fingers splayed out wide against your bare skin. The heat radiating from his palm on your skin was like your own personal heating pad; the soreness that ebbed from your cramps seemed to dissipate the longer his hand rested against your skin, the action making your head spin as you focused on breathing through your nose as Joel’s tongue traced along yours. 
Joel’s mouth trailed from your lips down to your jaw, down to your neck. The stubble growing on his face scratched at your skin when he nuzzled himself in the crook of your neck, causing a combination of a laugh and a moan to flutter past your lips. You could feel him smile against your skin before nipping at it gently, using his lips and tongue to ebb the slight pain away. You could feel him sucking at your skin, and you knew in the morning you’d regret the red and purple marks that would litter your skin, but right now, the feeling was absolute heaven. 
“Spread those legs for me, baby.” The words were whispered against your skin, accompanied by a quick tap to your thighs. You didn’t hesitate to obey; your left leg fell to the side while you rested your right leg on top of Joel's. His hand slipped from your stomach to your upper thigh, gripping the fleshy inside as he helped adjust it higher on his body. 
The cool air from the fan had you shivering as it made contact with your bare skin, emphasizing the wet slick that had formed between your legs. Joel's mouth found itself back on yours, his kiss turning punishing, almost, as his hand slowly moved down your inner thigh; his teeth were biting and pulling at your lower lip, his fingers were digging into your skin as he kneaded and gripped your thigh. 
“Joel,” you mewled, stretching up slightly to angle your hips closer to his hand. You were settled in the crook of his elbow, and his arm came up to bare against your throat ever so slightly. He essentially had you in a headlock, and you were helpless to anything he administered. Goosebumps prickled along your skin, and you whined once more when his fingers brushed against the crease of your leg. 
“Shh, s’okay, baby. Let me take care of you,” his words were soothing, soft. A complete contrast to the way he was handling your body, and it was all you could do but nod in response, eyes wide and trusting as they held contact with him. His pupils were so dilated that you could barely see the rim of brown, even this close. 
Another sharp tap to your inner thigh had you gasping, and Joel's mouth formed into a smirk as his calloused fingers eased the spot. You’d like to blame the hormones fluttering around your body for the desperation you were feeling for Joel, but part of you knew that he simply just had this affect on you. You always grew so needy for his attention, for his touch. Being with him was the only time your brain truly shut off and allowed you to feel safe, relaxed. 
His fingertips were stroking the inside of your thigh like it was the strings on one of his guitars, a slow but firm sensation that had you humming; he was playing a different kind of instrument with you. You could feel yourself growing slicker, the bubble in your chest expanding as he teased you, touched you. 
“Joel, please…” you trailed off, turning your head to the side and bumping the edge of his jaw with your nose. His gaze had slipped to where his fingers were caressing your skin, basking in the suppleness of your skin that so vastly compared to the roughness of his. You felt like a dream. 
“Such pretty manners,.” he mocked, grinning to himself before meeting your eyes once more. “Since you asked nicely, though…” The kiss he pressed on your nose was soft, but your focus was on how his fingers were finally crossing over the crease in your thigh, finally trailing down to your core. 
The first swipe of his fingers through your folds had a small moan emit from your mouth, and a curse came from Joel’s as he felt how wet you were already. “Shit, baby,” he muttered to himself more than anything, watching his fingers as he lifted them up into the light to see the shine. Chest heaving, you watched as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, watched as he placed them on his tongue before closing his lips around the digits and sucking on them while he pulled them out. 
His fingers were now wet with his spit, evident by the thin strand of saliva still connecting his mouth to his fingers. The sight alone had your toes curling against the mattress, your mouth open slightly as you watched him bring his hand back down to your pussy. Your breath left you as his second swipe was firmer, the tips of his fingers passing along your clit for a brief moment before moving back down. 
His forearm flexed slightly against your neck, his free hand moving down to brush against the top of your chest. One of your hands moved to grip his arm, nails digging into skin ever so slightly as Joel’s fingers brushed your entrance, swirling around slightly to gather the wetness that had formed. A soft sigh left his mouth as he felt you, and the next moment, two of his fingers were swiftly pushing inside of you. 
“Joel!” You gasped out, back arching into his touch as he pumped his fingers into you once, twice, three times before pulling them out. Joel huffed out a laugh at your whine from the loss of contact, glancing down at you to see your reaction to him circling your clit with the pad of his thumb. He was rewarded with the softest of sighs, and the sight of your eyes rolling shut while your mouth parted open. 
He didn’t hesitate to capture your lips with his, his mouth against yours as firm as his thumb on your clit. The kiss was quick, and Joel’s nose brushed against yours as he pulled back ever so slightly. “Such a pretty girl, achin’ for me to fill you up. My fingers feel real nice against your pussy now, don't they, baby?” 
A short and snappy nod was your form of a response, as you were solely focused on the way Joel’s middle finger was circling your clit now. Your hips bucked up as waves of pleasure wracked your body, Joel’s expert fingers bringing you relief you so desperately needed. The action had Joel smirking above you, had his hips grinding slightly against your thigh in a sad attempt at getting some friction for his now hard cock. 
Joel pulled back from his admissions on your clit, sliding his middle finger through the center of you before slowly inserting it back inside you. The gasp that left your mouth was music to his ears, and he began moving it in and out, curling it up once it was fully inside your wet pussy. Head falling back against Joel’s arm, your legs widening even further as Joel picked up a steady rhythm with his one finger. 
“So good, Joel,” you rasped, voice breathless as Joel’s finger curled against the spongy part inside of you that had your body jerking in response. Licking your lips, you pulled the bottom lip into your mouth, teeth sinking in as the pleasure continued to build up in your body. Your right hand moved to rest on his wrist, while the other stayed gripping his left forearm. 
Basking in your praise, Joel withdrew his middle finger and, when he pumped it back inside, added his ring finger. The addition had you groaning, feeling his two fingers stretch you out slowly as he pushed them inside and pulled them out. You felt Joel’s lips press against your forehead as he worked to pick up the pace, and soon all that could be heard in the room was the wet sound of your pussy being fucked by his fingers. 
“God, I could listen to you all night,” he mumbled, curling his fingers in a “come here” motion inside you and marveling at how drenched you sounded. “So fuckin’ wet for me, sweetheart. Haven’t even taken my cock yet, either, you needy thing.” 
His words only sparked the fire inside your chest even more, and soon you were moaning his name over and over again in some kind of sick prayer as he filled you with his fingers. Your mouth dropped open as his thumb moved to glide against your clit, pleasure radiating throughout your body. 
Your fingers dug half-moon indentions in Joel’s tanned skin as the waves of pleasure finally crested. 
Your body went rigid in his hold as your orgasm peaked, his fingers never ceasing in motion as your hips began to shake against his hand. He muttered soft praises as you came, moving his arm from across your chest and intertwining your fingers with his. You gasped for air as you came down, thighs twitching ever so slightly as you soon became putty against Joel’s body. 
Only then did he pull his fingers out from inside of you. He kissed your forehead once more, cupping your drenched pussy with the palm of his hand. Your chest was heaving still from the orgasm, body feeling tired once more but for a completely different reason. Resting your head back on Joel’s arm, you glance up at him, expecting him to move his hand away and maybe help you clean up. 
Instead, Joel’s dark gaze was solely focused on your pussy again. Instead of moving his hand away, he slowly moved it up your center, stopping only when his middle finger brushed against your clit. He moved his hand to the side slightly, letting the tips of his other fingers brush against the sensitive nub, before sliding it the other way. His action was slow, methodical even. 
“Joel,” you ventured, squeezing his hand that rested in yours. His jaw twitched, but that was the only response you got. He leaned up on his elbow, your hand moving up along the mattress as he did so. Now, your interlaced hands rested above you, on the pillow, as Joel’s upper body hovered on top of yours. 
Ever so slowly, Joel resumed the movement of his hand, sliding to one side before moving it to the other. His fingers all brushed against your clit, and the overstimulation you felt had your thighs closing together. 
“Keep ‘em open, baby.” Joel admonished, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. His free hand pushed away your left leg before returning back to your clit, and you swore you could feel the wetness lingering on your skin from him doing so. The roughness of the towel underneath you prickled at your skin as your hips twitched from the continued pleasure. 
“Joel,” you ventured again, this time more of a plea than anything. Tears formed on your waterline when he picked up the pace, his hand firmly rubbing against your clit each time he moved it. That bubble of pleasure formed more quickly in your chest, the feeling fiery and almost suffocating as Joel’s movements were relentless. 
“Give me one more,” his voice was rough, distant. “Just one more.” His hand dipped to cup your pussy once more, gliding up through your folds and moving the wetness from there up to your clit. The added lubrication and friction as Joel increased his pace had you crying out, body arching forward at the onslaught of pleasure. 
Your orgasm approached much faster this time, and you could feel your slick dripping down your skin onto the towel. “Oh my God,” you whimpered, your hand painfully holding onto Joel’s while the other, which had moved to rest on his hip, gripped his t-shirt. “Oh, God.” 
This time, when you came, the bubble dropped from your chest and to your stomach and your body went limp as soon as your orgasm tore through you. Your mind was a haze of euphoria, and if you were more cognizant you would have been embarrassed at the feeling of your wetness squirting out from you, would have felt heated at the way Joel praised your body. Instead, you were blissfully gone, basking in the sensation that only Joel’s fingers knew how to bring you. 
Joel’s hand slipped from yours as he pulled his arm up from underneath you, and before you were even aware of the shift, he was up on his knees, moving in between your legs and tugging his flannel pants down. “Gotta fuck you, baby. Jesus Christ, you came so good for me.” His hands bracketed your head as he leaned up against your body, the head of his leaking cock pressed against your wet slit. 
You hummed at his praise, wrapping your weak arms around his neck as you shifted your thighs a little wider to accommodate for his hips. You weren’t entirely sure you could handle another orgasm, but you knew you were desperate to have him inside of you. His head ducked down to yours, and you enthusiastically pressed your lips against his, enveloping his hips with your legs in consent. 
With a nip at your bottom lip, he slowly pressed the tip of his cock in between your folds, gathering the wetness that had accumulated near your entrance before moving his hips even further. The head of his cock pushed into your pussy, stretching you out even more than his fingers did previously. Joel groaned into your mouth as he pumped his hips slightly, pulling out of you before sinking just the tip inside you again.  
“Fuck, sweetheart. My fingers didn’t stretch out your pussy enough, huh? S’fuckin’ tight as hell around my cock.” One of his hands came to brush aside your hair, cupping the side of your face gently while his hips snapped into yours. You cried out against his mouth, the feeling of being filled so suddenly causing you to wince slightly. You welcomed this pain, however, as it quickly gave way to pleasure the more Joel rocked his hips against yours. 
Joel rested his hips against yours for a moment, his head falling down to your chest as he reveled in the tightness surrounding his cock. His breaths came out in short pants, the hand laying next to your head turning into a fist against the mattress. Your hips move up slightly, seeking out the pleasure even after coming twice before, and it brings Joel in further, causing you both to curse. 
“So desperate for me to fuck you,” Joel’s words are accented by short, quick thrusts up inside of you. He pushed up off of you, your arms falling to the bed beside you while your legs fall open as they untangle from his waist. His hands grip the inside of your thighs, and he leans his weight forward a little, pinning your legs to the bed. 
“I am, Joel. P-please fuck me,” you beg, gripping the sheets between your fingers as your hips meet his thrusts. Joel starts off slowly, implanting you fully on his cock before slowly pulling back until just the tip presses against your pussy. His bruising grip on your thighs holds your legs open while he works himself in and out of you, eyes cast on how your slick coats his cock, the occasional red streak coloring his flesh. 
A stray curl of hair falls from his previously brushed back hair, and you itch to swipe it back into place, but his pace quickens and your hold on the bed keeps you from banging against the bed frame. The sound of his cock entering your wet pussy fills the room, the indecency of it causing your skin to flush with heat. Joel’s groans start to find time with your whimpers, and soon the noises of sex are emitting throughout the bedroom, throughout the house. 
Joel’s hands move away from your thighs, traveling up your stomach and pushing up his red t-shirt to see your boobs bouncing with each thrust. He admires the peaks of your nipples, the way goosebumps arise on your flesh as it’s exposed to the cool air, before bringing both hands to grip onto them. His thumbs and forefingers pinch at your nipples, the pain mixing in with the pleasure seamlessly. 
Your eyes fall shut on a moan, body arching into his touch as you clench around Joel, causing him to curse. The familiar sensation of heat fills your body, that third orgasm floating slightly out of reach. You move one of your hands down to your pussy, resting it on your mound. Your fingertips brush against Joel’s cock every time he withdraws, and you moan at how slick he feels before bringing your fingers to your clit. 
“That’s it, baby. Make yourself come on my cock,” Joel encourages, gaze focused on the way your fingers nimbly play with your throbbing clit. His hands squeeze your breasts roughly one last time before he leans up, gripping your ankles and bringing your legs to rest on top of his shoulders. Your thighs press against his cock as he fucks you, adding in another level of pleasure for him as he fights back his orgasm. 
“Just like that, Joel. Just like that…oh!” Your cries fill the room as he pounds into you, your fingers increasing the pace against your clit. Your movements are shaky, not precise in the slightest, but you’re still sensitive and wound up from your previous orgasms that it doesn’t take much to get your third one going. With a few clumsy swipes of your middle finger against your clit, and Joel’s cock ruthlessly hammering in and out of you, your final orgasm floods through your body. 
Joel curses as he feels your pussy clench around him, making his movements stagger with how tight you become. He gives a few more deep thrusts, his own movements becoming shaky and less precise, and he soon slips out of you, rubbing the length of his cock along your pussy lips as you gush with your orgasm. With a grunt, he follows soon, his own cum spurting out of his red cockhead and on to your lower stomach. 
Your legs fall meekly to the bed again, and Joel’s body sags forward a little before he props himself back up with his hands. The sound of you both panting is all that can be heard as you both come down from your orgasms; you, eyes closed and mouth open. Joel, eyes open and mouth closed, nostrils flaring slightly as he regulates himself. 
It takes a moment before you both get back to yourselves, but when you do, you become increasingly aware of the wet feeling underneath your lower body, which causes you to giggle. “Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t get around to cleaning my sheets today, huh?” 
A snort comes out of Joel, his head shaking slightly as he moves to brush back his hair. He takes in the sight of you, freshly fucked and thouroughly spent, and can’t help but grin. He might be older, but he relishes the fact that he can still please you like this. That you actually want him to do so. Makes him feel like a god among men. 
He sees the tears around your lash line from your last two orgasms, and he leans forward slightly to wipe them away with his thumb, triggering in his mind the conversation you both had before this all started. “Feelin’ alright?” His gaze moves around your body, checking to see if he hurt you in any way. He notes the red marks against the side of your neck, the cum on your lower stomach and the beginnings of many small bruises along the inside of your thigh from where he gripped them to keep them open. 
He’d be more worried about those if he didn’t know how much you loved having him mark you up. 
“Just peachy,” you grinned at him, propping yourself up on your elbows to take in the mess below you. Joel leaned in to meet you, his kiss soft and soothing as his lips slid against yours. After a moment, he pulls away again, awkwardly shuffling to the edge of the bed before standing up. Hiking up his pants, he moves to the bathroom to get a washcloth to start cleaning you up. 
After wiping away his cum and your wetness, he gently helps you off the bed, holding your arm as your legs fumble when your feet hit the ground. His pride grows then, and you smack his arm playfully when you catch sight of his grin. “Sorry,” he mutters, pressing a kiss against the side of your head before moving to gather up the dirty towel from the bed. He tosses it into the hamper before leading you to the bathroom. 
There, he draws you a hot bath, guiding you in the tub and before pulling his clothes off and joining you. It’s a cramped space, the bathtub not technically suitable for two, but you make it work. You lean your head against Joel’s shoulders, sinking into his body as his arms wrap around your middle. You know you should do something with your bedding soon, should make sure you have the guest room set up so the two of you can sleep somewhere remotely comfortable tonight, but for now, you bask in his presence. 
“Thank you for taking care of me, Joel.” You say softly, closing your eyes and letting the hot water ease away any lingering soreness your body has. His arms tighten around you as you trace mindless shapes against his thighs. He tilts his head to the side, kissing your forehead before resting his on top of yours. 
“Anytime, baby.” His breathing evens out with yours, stubble rubbing against your forehead as he speaks. “I’ll always be here to wipe your tears away.” 
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taglist *:·゚ @hiroikegawa
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cosycafune · 16 days
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HOUSE HUSBAND!
'Satoru never thought he would take on the role as a house husband, but he found himself proud of the cookies he had baked for you and little Aiko. Jujutsu's second nature to Satoru, but being at home with you and his daughter's first.
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— ⋆₊˚⊹ ᡣ—
Satoru never thought he’d find comfort in becoming a house husband, but he found himself comfortable the moment he was placed in the role. Seeing you working, yearning for at least enough time to commodify Aiko with someone trusted, left him offering to temporarily look after Aiko longer than what he was used to.
Innately, Satoru’s always overseas — accustoming himself to the way of jujutsu. Yet, the moment he came home, watching a tired you place Aiko into bed, it caused him to develop a change of heart. A change of heart towards seeing you mentally struggle with having to deal with it all, along with the worries of Satoru potentially leaving you as a widow.
So, since Satoru’s good at mastering everything, he couldn’t help but stand within the kitchen. Within the kitchen with a cute apron on, bundling Aiko in his arms while he mixed up the ingredients for cookies and dinner. Just everything about the moment, particularly with him wearing a matching hat with Aiko, made his heart ache at the passed by memories.
His daughter continued to grow, but very few moments of her’s had skimmed by him.
“Pwpa!” Aiko gleefully announces, splattering flour on Satoru’s nose with irreplaceable happiness.
“My little flower,” Satoru musters out, splashing flour upon Aiko — brightening the whites of her curls.
“Mama would be so proud right now,” Muttering, Satoru silently ponders on his statement — intaking Aiko mindlessly babbling.
“Mwma!” Ecstatic, Aiko’s eyes contort to a heavily tired you — making your way into the kitchen within the blessed morning.
“Look at you two, cutie pies!” Slightly jogging, you fill the ample kitchen with your cherished warmth.
“I’m waiting,” Satoru falsely grumbles, his cheeks dampened with crimson when you applied a heavy kiss upon his floured lips.
“‘So greedy,” Smitten, you chuckle — merrily being suffocated by so, so, so many face kisses coming from Satoru and Aiko.
“I think I’ll stay home more often,” Cooing, Satoru attacks you with further kisses. His cerulean eyes beam, filled with starriness at your floured, dazed expression.
Floured, moments like this made him truly cherish you and Aiko’s presence — making him truly take on the role of a sufficient house husband.
After all, he now did the cooking, cleaning, teaching and more with you occasionally working.
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do not copy, translate or relocate my work on any other platforms. all work is written by me: cosycafune. 2024.
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miss-dollette · 7 months
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Makarov • Baby Daddy Headcanons
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While Makarov is a psychopathic maniac without a care for anyone, he'd definitely never abandon his own. This man values loyalty above anything and will never forsake one of his own, especially his baby mama and his child.
A visit from Makarov would be rare, but when he visited, he always made sure to bring a gift for his baby, and sometimes, even for you. Nothing cheap, of course—a necklace worth thousands. See it as a reward for being an oh-so-good woman and bearing him a child.
Don't bother with work. Call in and never come back. Makarov has you covered for the rest of your life. He'd move you away from the dingy city and have you cozy with your baby in a house you'd never be able to pay off on your own. But you wouldn't need to worry about that - Makarov made sure to pay in cash to whatever sketchy realtor he knew would never reveal your location. If they did... let's just say they'd never sell another house again.
The new addition to the Makarov family would love their father. They'd cry all day in your arms, never stopping until their father's rough cheek scratched against their own, and he shushed them in his rough Russian manner.
The first time you handed over the tiny Makarov to their father would become a bittersweet memory.
"Make sure his/her neck is supported," you softly said while passing the baby into Makarov's arms, mindful of the delicate strength his/her little neck had yet to develop.
"Perfect," you said as Makarov gently held the baby in his arms, his neck crooked down as he watched his baby's eyelids flutter, their little pink cheeks, and tufts of hair on top their head. The baby tiny fist lifted into air, and Makarov placed his lips upon their tiny knuckles.
You leaned in and placed your lips on Vladimirs rough cheek.
He'd definitely pretend he wasn't obsessed with his newborn baby's scent. You'd walk into the nursery, and he'd shoot up from the crib and act like his nose wasn't all up in his baby's scalp.
He'd be fiercely protective of his family. No one, not even his closest allies, would know. Maybe Yuri, but he'd only tell him long after you gave birth.
If he had a son, he'd definitely plan to raise him in a macho-man way. Your son's fifth birthday gift would be a Russian prison knife from the Gulag. And no, he wouldn't care if you made a fuss about it being dangerous for a child.
"Now, why the hell would you give him that? What were you thinking?"
"He's nearly a grown man, and every grown man needs a knife."
"He's five!"
"I was gifted a rifle when I was five, so be grateful!"
Now, if he had a daughter, that would be a whole 'nother story. She would definitely be his little tsarina. All she would need to do is ask, and she'd have it in her little palm.
"She'll become a spoiled little brat if you keep spoiling her like that,"
"What, like you?"
"Not funny."
"Seems funny to me. Come, My Little Tsarina, let's go pick out one of your future cars."
He grew up poor and constantly surrounded by critters sneaking around in his home. He'd bring home stray cats to make sure no rats or mice would go near his baby.
Will sometimes sleep over. You'd both sleep in the same bed, and his razor-sharp training from when he was a soldier would come to good use. Any noise your baby made would wake him instantly.
He's paranoid as hell, so be ready for him to patrol the house multiple times a day. Your baby will grow up thinking it's normal for his father to have an automatic assault rifle in hand, walking around with murder in his eyes, ready to blow apart whoever dared target his family.
The baby would giggle every time their father passed by, and you'd watch boredly as he walked past. It got boring after the first ten times.
If there ever was a break in, God bless the idiot who did so. Not even his bones would be found.
Other than that, he's a cutie patootie when it comes to his baby. But like, a scary cutie patootie.
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chucapybara · 1 month
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alright arlecchino hopping around in my head still so soft mornings with your darling knave!
oh, arlecchino being so utterly enamoured with you. she tends to wake up earlier than you do; a harbinger has many things to go about doing in a day, after all, and being one who manages the affairs of different house of the hearths across teyvat, it's no easy feat.
but on the off days, after a long night of making love to you, she finds herself trapped in your orbit, unable to escape. (not that she'd ever want to.) your soft, radiantly divine figure rests curled beside her, your breath tickling her cheek, and she loves it.
in the respite that comes, in this calm between the noise of her nightmares and of her day work, she finds that all the world is still when you are. an absence of howling, the absence of shades are substituted, if only for those few moments, with the gentle sunbeam that kisses your skin.
(she wishes she were the sun, for a brief time. oh, how her blood almost boils with envy for that heavenly star which gets to kiss you every morning before she does; and were it not for the fact that she loathed to wake you in such peaceful sleep, she may have done so already.)
arlecchino shifts, resting her head on her arm, facing you, observing every rise and fall of your unrobed shoulders, chest. her mind is quiet, silenced, lacking of any other thought except for you.
you, who is so precious to her, that she would rend heaven upon earth and bring down cities and crowns in your name if you asked her to. she who would raise armies and queendoms worshipping you—if she did not already dislike the thought of sharing you with another. (the notion of others gazing upon you with reverence to match hers is preposterous in its nature, so she strangles the thought in its crib.)
as she ponders her prayers for you, she notes how the blanket of your shared bed has dipped below your waist. arlecchino almost has the mind to tuck you back in, to preserve your comfort—all the more when she catches how you shiver, ever so slightly, when exposed to the naked air—but she realises doing so may only wake you.
and so she unfurls her wing of balemoon bloodfire, its crimson feathers catching the sun's rays, illuminating it as sunsets are wont to do. she drapes it over you in replacement for the blanket, mentally chiding it for doing a poor job at keeping you warm.
though, perhaps, this in and of itself was a blessing, too.
your expression eases, and so too does arlecchino's scarlet-eyed gaze soften. her wing rests soothingly around you, almost ticklish, exuding the hearthfire's homely coziness.
and it is this same ticklish sensation that rouses you, slow, steady. your lips part in a yawn, and you peek open a bleary eye, finding your sweet one already long having been observing you. your soul sings.
"good morning, lover," arlecchino murmurs fondly, pressing close. now that you're awake, she has no reservations about pulling you close. she loops an arm around your back, blackened hands ever gentle, ever soft.
you smile, still half-asleep, but savouring the affection. your own palm finds its way to arlecchino's spine, tracing delicately up and down, making your darling knave shiver.
(oh, how weak she finds herself at your touch. let all other things to which she be impenetrable, but for you, she spares a key.)
arlecchino is strong, and it shows in the grooves of her muscled form, tensing in the wake of your drowsed touch. she is especially vulnerable in the space just beside her wing, where you pay special attention, massaging lightly there and leaving tender brushes of your lips. fluttering kisses, with all the softness of rainbow rose petals on the gentle wind.
"morning, arle," you mumble in a wispy breath. you graze your fingertips some along the curve of her side, to the cursed ink on her arm (that is no more a curse than it is a part of the woman you love), tracing them as though you didn't already have every inch of arlecchino mapped out in your memory.
your eyes flutter closed, and your hand goes still, relaxed now on arlecchino's back once more as you are quickly returned to sleep's embrace—arlecchino cradling you, bloodfire wing secured around your form.
but this time, sleep itself has no choice but to share you with her.
all the time in the world could not compare to these tender, infinitisemal moments—your limbs tangled like vines, hair strewn across the pillows upon the bed that is only both yours to own, with you in her arms.
arlecchino's lips draw forth like a magnet, pressing tender kisses along your brow. "rest well, my dove."
and when she speaks, she hopes her faithful prayer follows you into your conscious, to warm your heart and remind you always of the devotion only your sweet knave holds, just for you. only for you.
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ev3rgreenxtrees · 3 months
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Sir.Cuddlesworth
M.S
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Synopsis: Back at the triplets’ Boston house, you tend to cuddle with Trevor, the boys’ dog, more often than you do with your boyfriend Matt. So, you decide to be a sweetheart and led him your favorite shark stuffed animal, Sir.Cuddlesworth.
Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Fem!reader
Warnings: None! just fluff <3
A/N: This was requested, but tumblr decided to be a bitch and delete the request, but here it is anyways! The req was “Trevor steals you from Matt” from anon! Thank you🤍
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“Trevor!” You squealed, looking from the couch, at the dog. The dog stopped in his tracks, before looking at you, his tail wagging.
You came to Boston with your boyfriend and his brothers. You had been friends with the boys for as long as you could remember, you were even so close, that you moved to L.A. with them. Nate was offered too, of course, but the boy decided he’d stay in his hometown. It was a regular thing that you’d come back to Massachusetts with the boys, to see your mutual best friend, Nate, the triplets parents, and of course your parents.
You had been dating Matt for the past two years, and everything was going perfectly. You couldn’t deny your feelings for the boy, nor could he deny his for you. You were understandably scared to start the relationship between you two, in fear if you ever broke up that it would ruin your friendship with him and his brothers, but that didn’t seem to be something you would have to worry about. You didn’t plan on breaking up with Matt anytime soon, and he felt the same way towards you,
“No, baby-“ Matt mumbled, his grip around your waist tightening, as you attempted to squirm out of his grasp to get to the dog. “Stay.” Matt firmly spoke, but he knew you wouldn’t listen regardless.
You finally got out of his grip, and you rushed to the floor, Trevor immediately running up to you. He ran into your lap, and Matt let out a pouty groan, as he flipped his body to face the couch, in attempts for you to feel bad for him. You, however, knowing the boy was doing this to be silly, decided to stay with Trevor.
“Hi, Trev! I missed you!” You cooed, and Matt let out another groan, louder than the last. “Matt, hush!” You demanded, and he huffed. You looked down at the dog in your lap, before standing up, holding Trevor in your arms. You made your way up the stairs of the house, as you went into Matt’s childhood bedroom.
You knelt down in front of your still packed suitcase, and pulled out a stuffed animal you brought with you everywhere, Mr.Cuddlesworth. The stuffed animal was a Great White Shark, a fuzzy material that was soft on your skin, the white on the belly turning a slight grey due to its old age.
You took the stuffed animal in your arms, before standing up and walking back downstairs, making sure Trevor was walking close behind you.
You made it back to the couch downstairs, seeing Matt exactly where you left him.
“Baby?” You called out, and he turned around, facing you. “Here.” You smiled, handing him your shark.
“Sir.Cuddlesworth? Whats this for?” He asked confused. You sat back down on the floor, and Trevor crawls back into your lap.
“Now we both have a cuddle buddy.” You smiled brightly.
“Awwwe! You’re so adorable,” Matt chuckled, placing a kiss on the top of your head, and you let out a small giggle. “Thanks for Sir.Cuddlesworth. I’m so grateful to be blessed upon him.” Matt holds the shark up next to him, inhaling your scent.
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『 ↳✧・゚ Finn yaps❕ ;
Yes, this was supposed to be a short :3 I wanted this one to be short and sweet. <3
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso
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cocoreallylovesraiden · 4 months
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MK1 characters and sick! reader
(johnny cage, bi-han, smoke +liu kang & shang tsung)
not proof read not thought out not nothing i am SICK and this is my OUTLET (again this is not serious, just goofy stuff)
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Johnny Cage
- sick equivalent of “it’s not uterus it’s uterUS”
- Especially if he doesn’t have much going on in his schedule? It’s like there’s two sick people in the house
- He has ZERO issues laying in bed all day with you- until he decides on a group excursion to the living room couch where you will… continue to lay there! Exciting.
- Depending on how sick you are he’d be more serious, if it was just a little cold and nothing to worry about, expect to have some movies in the back while you doze in and out of his incessant chatting
- (I personally think he can’t cook well) so your favourite takeout is ordered and put into one of those fancy ass bowls to make it look like a home cooked meal. Bless him.
- Wearing matching ugly pjs like the worlds bleakest slumber party
- Says he doesn’t care about getting sick from being close to you, but makes jokes about your ‘heebies’ getting all over him if you ask for any physical contact (he will over enthusiastically oblige)
- If you’re seriously ill, he would be at a loss, especially when his usual demeanour can’t seem to cheer you up.
- Since i imagine his relationship with his parents isn’t the best, he’d probably call one of your family members to ask how to best care of you, and take it from there
- He wouldn’t treat you like a glass vase though, still cracking jokes while he attends to your needs; but in a way where you can tell he’s trying to mask how vulnerable he feels in his care for you.
- Calls you his sicky wicky honey boo boo sugar tits pumpkin pie
- Definitely gets the man flu once you recover no question about it
- As you lay in bed, sweating from your fever with this huge piece of man meat hugging up on you, all you can hear in the back of your head is “BAAAAYBBUHHHHH…. IT HUUURTTSS…” (congratulations! You can see into the future!)
- Also would call his assistant to ask for help. What are they going to know? They just do his accounting!
Bi Han
- You are sick? Have fun not being allowed to do ANYTHING. No chores, no training, no oily food, no Netflix- NO NETFLIX?
- He claims that extended screen time will only agitate your condition.
- He takes it upon himself to care for you; making easy to digest food, offering to help you shower when you feel physically weak, buying all sorts of medicines, etc.
- it would be easier to send someone to do some of these tasks (aside from the showering.) but no. Out of the kindness of his heart? Yes, of course. He loves you dearly. But also because he does not trust anyone to be as competent as he is.
- As the grandmaster gives you several containers of traditional Chinese medicine, you can only wonder if some pharmacist is sponsoring him. If you dare complain they taste horrible, he will GLADLY take a pill or a bit of powder just to show you were being a wuss
- Nags you for not being careful, and at first it’s annoying but you figure out eventually it’s because he’s worried and this is how he shows his love and concern
- During the day he has to be off at work, and as the hours pass those around him see his shoulders tense higher and higher. You’ve eaten lunch, right? You’ve taken your medicine?
- But don’t worry! Once you show the SLIGHTEST signs of recovery, it’s back to the grind.
- You can sniffle and puppy eyes him all you want, but once he deems you fit for daily life, we are back for business! No more Mr Marginally Nicer Bi Han!
- That being said, once you’re back to smiling and laughing, he will admit that it’s nice to see you back to your usual self.
Smoke
- feels horrible that you’re sick, but secretly proud of his immune system for staying strong; now he has an excuse to show off his hospitality skills!
- sort of like bi-han, expect instead of professional fussing you get excited pampering, gets to the point where you have to ask whether or not he should be at work instead of here
- “Work? Taking care of you is my work!”
- Uses this as a chance to freshen up memory on his hometown; making foods, remedies and tricks he remembers his mother doing for him as a sick child.
- If you ask him more about it, he will gladly go into detail- telling wonderful stories even if he occasionally gets emotional through them
- Cleans your face with a damp cloth and uses it as an excuse to get all close with you- again! He has a strong immune system, so nothing to worry about.
- While he’s off at work, he leaves you notes around the house to remind you that he’s thinking of you and hopes you feel better soon- if you collect all the notes, he becomes embarrassed and acts like he doesn’t know who wrote them
- Comes home and snuggles with you, mentioning even if you did have a fever, it was nice because outside was so cold and you were so warm.
- A little tone deaf, but he’s… got the spirit?
- Secretly upset once you get better because you’re less accommodating to his needy/ clingy behaviour, but it’s also great that you can communicate with words and not pained groans!
- You are WAITING for the day he gets sick. There’s no way you’ve gotten the flu 4 times, and he hasn’t. He sleeps in the same bed as you when you’re sick! Kisses you!
- How did they raise kids to be so strong where he’s from?
BONUS
Liu Kang
- you don’t get sick.
- flu season? he makes you take traditional medicine to prevent it.
- cold? you’re funny. around him? Liu “Set Off Fire Alarms With His Flaming Biceps” Kang? Haha.
- food poisoning? he Knows if the food is off, and won’t let you get the chance to eat it.
- Papa is going to make sure influenza season hits a new low this year
- Seriously, medical insurance companies are terrified of him.
Shang Tsung
- very creepily offers you an elixir and asks you to drink it.
- (Here is the part where I say: but you know he won’t hurt you, so you take it. But, you don’t know. He’s looking at you reeeaaalll funny)
- Notices your glare and takes a moment to re-do his sales pitch, this time a lot less devil-binding-contract and more… human…like?
- turns out, the elixir was just a failed experiment on shape-shifting. he sheepishly offers practical medicine while you roll your eyes.
Kung Lao
- is also sick.
- You both are idiots.
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ataraxiaspainting · 4 months
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Icarus.
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Yan (Emperor) Zhongli x F Reader.
Synopsis: You were taught ever since you opened your eyes to never go against your god. So why do you wish now that you have never opened them at all?
Warnings: Yandere themes, major power imbalances, manipulation, future forced marriage, some violence/gore, and unhealthy relationships.
Word Count: 3k.
Ten Songs Like This Piece:
Little Dark Age by MGMT
As the World Caves In by Matt Maltese
The Other Side Of Paradise by Glass Animals
All Eyes On Me by Bo Burnham
Space Song by Beach House
Murders by Miracle Musical
Tongues & Teeth by The Crane Wives
Teacher’s Pet by Melanie Martinez
A Pearl by Mitski
Isabella’s Lullaby by Takahiro Obata
*~*~*~*
“‘You know that I love you.’ And despite herself, Coraline nodded. It was true. The other mother loved her. But she loved Coraline as a miser loves money, or a dragon loves its gold. In the other mother's button eyes, Coraline knew that the other mother loved her as a possession, nothing more, a tolerated pet whose behavior was no longer amusing.” – Neil Gaiman, Coraline
*~*~*~*
There is no sin greater than to be a bird.
To be a bird is to be devoid of all burdens, soaring above all who are shackled by them, like a warden overseeing prisoners, or the sweetest and ripest peaches up on the highest of branches so no one can reach it. They can go anywhere, birds, with the winds at their call, the very embodiment of freedom itself, something your god has taught all his people to be wary of. Freedom can be a blessing, he told one of his counselors once, but it can also cause humans to be too conceited. There is no sin greater than to be a bird because all others will be envious. Envy is also a sin, one so common that even Archons are said to possess it. Sin gives birth to more sin, more suffering, and thus only the original that birthed it all shall be punished by Celestia’s fury. 
There is no greater sin than to be a bird, so the gods put in place cages, made to make those trapped by gold and chains and other things entirely. Birds who are not lured into such traps are dealt with by lightning, making them fall back down to the ground below, the last thing they see is the very sky that punished them. The sky, the stars, the moon, the sun… the entire world will be against you when you are a bird.
It will be that way until you die. The world hates birds and the way they fly and soar. Birds are meant for cages, or to be struck down with their corpses made into trophies.
There is no title greater than to be a hunter.
The sin; to be a bird, freedom… the title; to be a hunter, despotism.
To shoot, to stab, to twist until the prey bursts, is the way of someone whose greatest sin is doing good for this world.
To bleed, to be trapped, to be killed and put on display for all to see, that is what a bird’s purpose truly is, in the eyes of the divine.
They are different, quite so, like different ripples in lakes of mixed blood and water.
You can almost hear them, can’t you?
Celestia favors the strong. Celestia despises the weak. It makes sense to most people, those who were born into power be it money made from blood or strength made from blood. They don’t see the way the world works. The way flies feast upon rotting meat and are soon to be eaten by something bigger. It makes sense for most people, but not for you. Despite everything you have ever been taught from word of mouth, life on the streets teaches you otherwise. For everything you have endured, you have learned that you are not weak. In any case, quite the opposite.
You don’t pray anymore with everyone else, as they keep reciting such things over and over again at the states positioned throughout Liyue as if the emperor would listen to them. 
“O Almighty Geo Archon, give us your blessings for the many moons ahead of us all!” They would hold hands with their bodies being placed in circles around the sculptures. They close their eyes altogether, to not see the sacrifices trapped between them at the monuments, the last thing they see is the Lord of Geo’s face, looking down at them with a stone-cold glare laced with eerie delight. “O Almighty Geo Archon, give us your blessings for the many moons ahead of us all! O Almighty Geo Archon, give us your blessings for the many moons ahead of us all!”
To be praying and to be preying are two quite different things, but to the people of Liyue, there is no difference. Blood seeps into the earth all the same, regardless of who sheds it. So, as evidence that the people of Liyue do indeed bow down to Celestia’s every whim, they bring birds of all kinds and steal them of all they have. Their feathers make for excellent clothing, their bones make for stellar weaponry, and their feet make for charms of good luck. Celestia only smiles down upon the strong, after all. Celestia despises freedom because, without the divine, humans would have nothing to leash them onto rationality and laws. Perhaps that is why Mondstadt is very much in chaos now. Their god was said to have betrayed Celestia by giving his people forbidden knowledge of how nature originally ran its course, causing an uproar among the citizens. 
No one knows what happened to the god of Mondstadt after that.
Was he smitten down? Did his people turn on him? No one in Liyue knows for certain, as people of Mondstadt are forbidden from entering the land said to be made up of the purest of gold.
“O Almighty Geo Archon, give us your blessings for the many moons ahead of us all!”
That is the first thing you hear when you wake up, huddled in a corner to prevent yourself from getting even more wet from the rain. You assume that maybe it will be the last thing you hear when you close your eyes for good.
*~*~*~*
You grew up in Qiaoying Village and, once you grew up, got exiled from Qiaoying Village. You stood out, which no one saw in a good light. You were a mischievous, rule-breaking child, always stealing Jadevein Tea Eggs and both tea and tea sets made of fine porcelain. Your older brother taught you lessons far too valuable and unique for the traditionalist settings of Qiaoying Village, lessons like how to pick the elderly’s door’s locks, how to properly identify which pockets had the most Mora, and how to make alleyways a labyrinth for those who chase you.
Your older brother, though, did not partake in thievery himself. You suppose that might have been the first warning sign of many more to come. He made you, a child about half his age, do his dirty work for him. He always hoarded the rewards afterward, and if you got caught or he got caught with whatever treasure you had given him, he would pretend to scold you for going against the way of the Qiaoying. He said it was just pretend, but that look in his eyes still haunts you to this very day. As you got older, though, you got dumber. You crossed a line with everyone. You decided to steal from a Fontainian duke.
It was a foolish decision. Fontainians are known for their high sense of justice, and their tunnel vision when it comes to crimes and punishments. But you were just a child, were you not?
You couldn’t help it. You were just a child. That is what you told yourself then, and it is what you tell yourself now.
No one helped you then, and no one helps you now. Hell, it would be a miracle, a blessing from Celestia, if your older brother came to Liyue Harbor to visit you. But he never loved you, did he? He never loved you, and you never hated him until you saw him for what he truly is. A petty servant of Madam Mei with a spine thinner than that of a twig. He was a coward then, and likely still a coward now. Perhaps it would have been noble of him, while you were still an infant, to use that pocket knife he always carried around. It would have been better for you, for you to not know anything you know about him now. 
But he was a coward, your older brother. The person who taught you everything about thievery is also now the person who taught you how important it is to keep your cards close. Life on the streets calls for both, you suppose. Liyue Harbor may not be the friendliest for the homeless, but at the very least it had pockets to swipe into when no one was looking. Old habits die hard. You ended up relying on every memory of the past, no matter how bitter or how deceivingly sweet they were. You bore it. You bore it all. Every memory, every fragment of a lie, and every fragment of a half-truth. Life is never so simple after all, is it?
Your life was never perfect, and therefore still is not now. But you know deep in your heart that you would prefer this life over seeing your older brother’s face ever again.
But now, with eyes brighter than amber staring above you as you lay, your arm broken, you wish that your brother had taught you some fighting skills instead of everything else he taught you.
But he was a coward, and so are you.
To be fair, though, he never met the emperor and never thought that he would. So did you. No one in Qiaoying Village did, most likely. It was so far from the proclaimed harbor made of gold and trader’s blood and prayers. This was where the emperor lived, in his castle in the mountains surrounding Lingju Pass and Mount Tianheng. It was made up of the finest gold and wood and jewels. Only the best for the emperor, while people like you get mere pebbles. That is why, when you saw yet another stranger in a white cloak roaming around the alleyways, you attempted to strike. Your mistake.
Your mistake.
You were on the ground in an instant, your arm breaking so loudly an elderly man on his deathbed could hear it. 
The stranger’s eyes glittered like gold.
Frozen gold, perhaps, with how he was staring down at you with such disappointment.
So, he stared down at you.
You stared down at your arm.
You should have known better. But you are just someone trying to live, are you not? It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. But that white cloak the man is wearing with the sigil of geo on the back, one of the few symbols of the emperor himself, should have made you not attempt to pickpocket him. You should have known better. You really should have known better. Should you apologize? You are already as good as dead though, aren’t you?
Does a death sentence await you?
Life? Death? Prison? Life. Death. Prison.
Escape.
You have to escape.
But the emperor seems to know what you are doing, what you are planning.
So he stops you with a simple hand raised, and pillars of geo appear out of nowhere, trapping you in the corner. Now there is nowhere to run.
He stares down at you.
You stare down at your feet, all mangled up from a life made of thievery and poverty.
He doesn’t speak. Neither do you. You prefer it that way.
You are in a cage. But he is not.
Please.
Please don’t kill me. 
Please.
*~*~*~*
Is it a sin to indulge? Perhaps it is, perhaps it is not. Perhaps it depends. Is the indulgence centered in reality or fantasy? This escape attempt, perhaps, is both.
Like the many that came before it, the only sounds you can hear is the rain, the water falling from the glass windows like teardrops, and sometimes you can swear you hear the sound of someone weeping. Despite everything you have gone through though, you do not weep with them, whoever they are. You only keep stepping on ahead for a brighter future, one where you sneak off to Sumeru, a land that prioritizes knowledge over riches. You’d have a better life there than here, you think. Anywhere but here you would run off to actually, even if it was Snezhnaya. 
You are treated well, too well.
You still don’t know why instead of throwing you in the dungeons, Morax placed your unconscious body in one of the many, many guest rooms that were spread about in his castle.
You are treated far too well, almost to the point that it is maddening. Everything is so perfect, from the morning birds outside your window that wake you up every morning when it just so happens to be time for breakfast to the hairbrush you use to put your hair up when it is time to sleep, the design intricately laced with jade and topaz. Perfect, perfect, perfect. It’s maddening, sickening, how perfect everything is. You wish he had just put you in a cell because at least then everything would not have been so planned out for you, even the type of flowers you saw in the gardens that week. 
“Damn it all…”
In your opinion, the clothes you received today were more intricate than usual. The sleeves are puffed and transition from white to a deep teal color. The dress itself showcases delicate lace patterns of glaze lilies around the waist and wrists, while the skirt is impractically long for any running. Strangely, the inside of the skirt features a constellation pattern, though it seems to be a design meant for your eyes alone. The purpose of this starry sky motif remains unclear. The dress, like everything else, appears flawless and fits you perfectly, almost as if it was tailored specifically for you. Given Morax's wealth, you can't help but entertain the possibility. However, the overwhelming perfection of it all borders on madness. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect, so damn perfect. 
Today, you were not given shoes, presumably due to the rain and the consequent cancellation of your garden visit with Morax, where you typically indulge in tea and wine. As you approached the staircase leading to the dining room, however, the guards obstructed your path. Their actions were gentle, but their words were not. They formed a human barricade, preventing your descent. One guard clicked their tongue disapprovingly, while the other remained silent. Perhaps they harbored some disdain towards you. The servants in this establishment either treated you with utmost care or completely disregarded your presence, so it was not entirely surprising that the guards displayed a semblance of dislike.
The real surprise was you not being allowed to go to the dining room to eat.
“The emperor wants you to stay in your room for the time being. He shall see you shortly there.”
So, you went back, albeit muttering curses along the way. Due to your lack of shoes and the guards not even allowing you to go downstairs, this escape attempt is as short-lived as a moth flying much too close to a flame.
As you were told, Morax came in his usual attire, black and brown robes with a geo sigil on the back. 
“...”
“I have been told that you have been getting a bit too curious with your wandering.”
Ah, straight to the point, it would seem. 
There is no point trying to beat around the bush when it comes to Morax. “It is not like there is anything else to do here.”
He sits beside you on the bed, not too close but not too far either. A perfect balance. “I can give you other activities to do if you would like. I can also answer some questions you have since you’ll be living here from now on.”
“...This isn’t temporary…” You look down at the arm he broke, a time which feels like a millennium ago. “Am I being charged?” Your question is quietly said. “Aren’t thieves simply sent to cells for a few moons?”
His chuckle was unexpected, causing a slight surprise. Morax, who was typically expressionless, wore a smile on his face. Despite the possibly good intentions behind it, the sight and sound were unsettling and made your skin crawl.
“...You don’t tell me anything.” You whisper under your breath. That much is clear. Despite Morax's little attempts to conceal it, his secrecy is unmistakable. You can't help but feel like a naive child stating the obvious.
“You are here for multiple reasons. For instance… you remind me of someone. As such, you must have questions, if you are anything like her.” His eyes glaze over you, from the top of your head where your hair is half put up with a hairpin to the anklet just hovering over your right foot. “All humans are born with an innate sense to pry. I won’t judge, as I am an Archon.” Are his words heartfelt? “Through my veins flow gold, but yours flow with sanguine, life, and desires.” 
His hand reaches forward, but he does not touch you. “You must see yourself as better than us because of this. Am I correct?”
“My feelings are not as monochrome as they seem to you. They are complex, quite so. But you are right, in some regard.”
“This is why I cannot stand the so-called divine.”
“Another reason as to why you are here. You are a sleeper of such, and I intend to help you open your eyes to the truth.”
You look at his eyes, seeing all the horrors within their depths.
The emperor known as Morax possesses eyes of pure gold, along with attractive features and pale, rosy lips that curl into a sickly sweet smile. Your body instinctively reacts, urging you to flee before your mind can fully comprehend the situation. However, your brain, awakening and analyzing the situation, is interrupted by the overpowering force of instinct, echoing the same warning as your body: the charming smile is a mere facade, reminiscent of something unsettlingly artificial. It is akin to a sculpture with painted skin and eyes or a doll with exaggerated, intricate features. This man, with his literal golden eyes, his potentially persuasive words, and his captivating yet unnerving countenance, is someone you cannot trust.
Desperate to escape, you attempt to run, only to find that arms and hands, seemingly made of stone, emerge from the walls, gripping and restraining your own. Two of these strong hands ascend, slithering towards the center of your back, forcefully pushing you down into a bow, while you remain compelled to gaze upwards. Your focus remains fixated solely on the emperor's eyes, observing the eloquent patterns of gold within them.
The caress of their touch is tender upon your cheeks, unlike solid ones that demand for you to stay.
“You shall become my consort and see the gates of Celestia for yourself. Humans are made to worship, after all. The divine are made to simply awaken those who have strayed off the path of destiny.”
*~*~*~*
To possess the gift of sight, encompassing all, is the gravest transgression one can commit. Thus, those winged creatures who lack this awareness are banished to the depths of the earth, their vision, their literal eyes stripped away until their cries reverberate to the surface, where the emperor Morax shall pronounce the ultimate verdict.
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| Shut up for me, love, | (part 2)
Part 1 (finding out you're pregnant w/Megumi)
Toji Fushiguro x Wife!Reader
Toji can't help but love you and your baby bump!
Word Count: 1.6k
CW: SFW, domestic fluff, Toji has a job, slightly suggestive, lots of pregnancy (mentions symptoms)
A/n: This has generated so many pregnancy fic ideas...
Your husband, Toji, had been a great help through the first trimester of your pregnancy. He was always giving you massages, bringing you water and snacks, and spending lots of quality time with you, among other things, and you were very grateful for it all. 
Many changes were going on throughout your pregnancy, as to be expected now in your second trimester. While the morning sickness was now gone, there was a number of new troubles you could note. Most importantly, the bump. 
For the most part it was a blessing, even when it caused a number of effects, such as walking differently and feeling a rather strange weight on your hips, something you hadn’t dealt with beforehand. It was proof of a growing baby, and both you and Toji couldn’t be more happy about it. Instead, the effects it had on your husband were the real concerns. 
When you were starting to show, your husband couldn’t stop taking pictures of you. It was quite out of the ordinary for Toji, who rarely ever customized anything on his phone or computer, when he finally took it upon himself to learn such things, pasting your image everywhere he could. His new favorite pastime during breaks at work was scrolling through his pictures of you (some of which were taken in the last 5 hours), saving them in a special folder and smiling to himself. 
Your pregnancy in general made him clingy. Along with the pictures, he cut his hours at work and stayed home to assist you, which was appreciated but put a hindrance in your housework. Toji would stand around watching you do everything from unloading the dishwasher to changing the sheets on the bed, leaning against the wall as he tried to lock eyes much to your dismay. 
Fully confident in your ability to do such things, he still found himself keeping a much closer eye on you, only comforted when he was in the same house and could hear, if not see, you. Toji had already began to realize this himself, that it wasn’t an increase in safety concern that caused his behavior. While he always wanted to have eyes on you, to make sure you were out of harm’s way regardless of your pregnancy, there was something he missed so much when he was away from you. 
Watching you cover your swollen tummy with a nightgown, one he picked out specially for you on a shopping trip. It sinched in high, right above the bump that was evident and growing larger each day. Seeing the light apprehension you had when bending down to pick things up, and hearing the compliments your friends gave you whenever they saw you, asking how the baby was coming along. Little things were a constant, and appreciated reminder for him that the two of you were building your family together. Something he loved more than anything. 
Because of this, your husband stopped doing his regular outings all together. Usually he would go out to watch sports and drink with his friends at least once a week or so. Him being gone gave you more time without him interrupting your chores, and he was careful with you in mind. But this new Toji, that was a soon-to-be father, figured he could just watch the game on the TV and didn’t need to go out anymore despite your protests.
“It would save us money, we should be saving up for the nursery,” Toji argued, sitting down on the couch. “I know, honey, but…,” you tried to explain to him, just how annoying he had been. Staring at you all the time, offering you a hand for every minuscule task the moment you had any difficulty with it. Reaching up ahead of you to the top cabinet and grabbing the bowl you were trying to get, when there was a stepping stool right next to you. 
It made you embarrassed, really. His eyes always so sharp, the way he looked at you every time you mistakenly fell into his trap, breaking your three minute personal best at ignoring him properly. Your cheeks heated up each time, scoffing a little as you turned back to the dirty dishes in the sink. It was truly bothersome (in some ways more than others). 
And so, it led to his great discovery of at-home sports streaming. Toji was sprawled out on the loveseat everyday, after he got home from work. Carefully using up his extra home hours, after you persistently told him to give you some space. 
While Toji enjoyed his free time, you, on the other hand, were doing laundry. The warmth of a fresh dry load, coupled with the absence of breathing down your neck, allowed you to relax for a brief moment. You piled all the clothes into a large basket, making your way down the hallway to the living room, where you usually folded it. 
Except… Toji was there. You turned around, hearing the voice of a dull commentator surely explaining something interesting, though what it was you didn’t know. Your house didn’t have too many rooms, and usually the bedroom or even the laundry room would work just fine for folding… if you could bend down well enough. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, your feet barely touched the floor from how high up it was. Bending down over the bump was impossible to do comfortably, and the task could only be done at all if you leaned down to the side and awkwardly grabbed at the basket below while maintaining your balance. 
After a few more attempts, you figured out that there wasn’t enough room on the floor and sitting like that wasn’t very comfortable for long periods of time either. You were reminded why the living room had been your favorite for doing this task, the couch was low enough and comfortable to sit on, with space for folded clothes on the side. 
Holding the basket with two hands, you stood in the hallway watching around the corner to observe your husband’s movements. Toji was lounging comfortably, with one arm laid across the top of the couch. His legs were spread wide, covering most of the seating area. If the game was almost over, there would be no reason to ask him to move… or so you thought. 
The two of you were in reverse positions, your eyes almost trying to lock with his as you admired them from afar, your original mission forgotten as he stared intently at the screen and rubbed the tiredness from his face. Now unlike you, he found your gaze to be rather relaxing, enjoying it before you would inevitably make your move. His chuckle didn’t come from the commercial on the screen, but from you, who was still standing there after 10 minutes, greatly struggling to hold the basket which was feeling extremely heavy. 
Setting it down would make a noise, so you finally decided to give up on finding some kind of good time to interject. “Is the game almost over?” You asked meekly, setting the basket down in the middle of the floor. “10 minutes, about,” he replied, still staring at the screen. You huffed under your breath, unsure of what to say. To that, Toji smirked to himself. He knew exactly what you wanted, and was very much prepared to give it to you… but why not have some fun with it?
“Need a little help?” He asked while you walked a bit closer in curiosity. “My wife doesn’t know what she wants, it’s my duty to give her some guidance…” he finally tilted his head towards you, though he had been ignoring the screen since you arrived. “C’mere… lil’ closer…” he motioned at you, as you looked at him confused. 
It only took him a second to stand up and move behind you, throwing his arms underneath your legs and back, carrying you to the couch with him. He settled you down between his legs, his body back how it was before like nothing had even happened. 
“It’s more comfortable with that bump, hmm?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “I still have to have room to do the laundry, Toji…” he chuckled, moving his legs closer together so you could feel them squishing your thighs. “That better?” you turned your head to blushing smile on your face. 
Toji grabbed the remote while you dragged the basket closer with your foot, still trapped between him. “But there’s only 10 minutes,” you watched as he changed the channel to a show you liked. “I’m gonna lose anyway, what does it matter,” he muttered. “I thought you said you stopped doing that!” you scoffed, looking back at your husband who rolled his eyes. “It’s five bucks, a work thing people are doing,” you shook your head in disapproval. 
As you relaxed into his lap, you got to folding. Part of the enjoyment you felt was due to your husband, softly rubbing your back and occasionally playing with your hair as you got to work. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to kiss me,” you frowned facing the TV, though Toji could still sense your disappointment. “That’s your reward for getting this done - I’m gettin’ pretty hungry…” he continued his massage, but wrapped his arms around your waist to hold your belly. You would make dinner after you finished.
“It feels good Toji, thank you,” you sunk back enjoying the feeling. “You deserve it, you’re doin’ so good, my wife,” a blush crept onto your face again from his words. “Was gonna ask you for a date night sometime anyway,” he mentioned, “and there’s no time like the present.” Toji gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. “So just stay nice… and… still…” he smirked. “Once you’re done, we have the whole night ahead of us.”
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Middle Class Lady Who has the Gang Sneak in Her Window
"The gang falling for a woman of a higher class and a father that doesn't approve of them so they usually sneak through their window to be together" @livingdeadgirly​
Genre: Fluff - some angst if you squint (Fem Reader uses she/her pronouns) Featuring: Arthur, John, Dutch, Javier, Charles, Sean, and Sadie Warnings: Mentions of guns, outlaw type of stuff
AN: I'm so sorry these took me forever to write! if some of them seem a little out of character please ignore it and pretend they aren't :D ---> Requests are open! Check out my guidelines if you have any questions
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Arthur Morgan:
Your father owned his own saloon which gave him an incredible insight into the type of men who frequented his establishment. He thought of this as a blessing once you started growing older and wishing to be courted, he could keep an ear out for anyone that he deemed unworthy for you.
Unsurprisingly, anyone who frequented the bar was not someone your father wanted anywhere near you. Especially when it came to an outlaw by the name of Arthur Morgan. The two of them had a long-standing feud (actually it was your father who hated Arthur and Arthur was too busy being infatuated with you to notice).
The first time Arthur was seen speaking to you in front of the saloon, your father came barreling through the doors to usher you inside. He instructed you to never speak to him again. Of course you didn’t listen.
Months go by and Arthur has made an extreme effort to get as close to you as he can without your father’s knowledge. The two of you will just so happen to go to the same general store at the same time every Friday by ‘accident’, you just so happen to run into him when you take your horse for a little trail ride to exercise, and every once in a while you both somehow end up behind the theater at on show nights by some strange chance of fate.
After a while, you’re so sick of having to keep your interactions short and sweet and secret in the public eye (lest anyone witness it and run off to tattle to your father). You write a quick letter to Arthur one day asking him to meet you at the side of your house at midnight.
When he gets there and you’re nowhere to be found he’s beyond confused; it’s not until he hears a sharp whistle and looks up to see you waving at him from your second story window that he understands your plan.
“The things I do for you, woman.” He grumbles with a smile and begins hoisting himself up the tree conveniently located right by the window.
You’ve already got the window open as he reaches the top and you begin helping him crawl inside. Now Arthur is a large, bulky man he isn’t exactly as nimble as he might have been once upon a time. You can barely contain your giggles as he lumbers into the room ungracefully and nearly face-plants into the rug on your floor.
“I ain’t had to do this since I was a boy,” He smiles down at you once he steadies himself as you grin up at him widely.
“You’re still young enough to climb through a lady’s window yet, Mr. Morgan.” You tease.
It’s the first time the two of you have ever truly been alone since you met and the tension in the air is palpable. Arthur looks between you and your carefully cleaned and decorated bedroom, then down at his dirty boots on your rug and worn denim pants. He was the complete opposite of you - he didn’t deserve to ruin your space with his grimy life and clothes.
“What you thinking about, Cowboy?” You place a hand on his cheek and turn his head to make him look back at you. He’d confess a few of his doubts, not trusting himself to tell you that he doesn’t deserve you flatout, and you’d shake your head and lead him over to your bed and have him sit down.
You’d kiss him and quiet his thoughts, allowing your actions to say more than words ever could and from that moment on he’d find himself climbing up a tree every other night.
Your father didn’t figure it out ever, even though Arthur and you were hardly ever quiet.
John Marston:
You were the most beautiful person that John had ever seen in his entire life. You were walking in the middle of town with some man nearly twice your age and John figured you were married to him - some lady victim to a man with money and a ring.
John fantasized about swooping you into his arms and saving you from a life of excruciating monotony. He’d tell the old man to kick the bucket, maybe rob him of whatever cash and valuables he had on him, and let you live your life free with him.
When he overheard you refer to the man as your father John felt absolutely giddy. He took his hat off and tried to smooth his hair down as he moved to approach you and introduce himself.
Your father watched the outlaw walk up to the two of you with a skeptical eye. He was hoping the cowboy would walk past you, but he stopped right before you and held out his hand to you. “John Marston, Miss….?” He prompted.
Your father shut it down immediately. He was so incredibly unamused that he stepped between you and John and shoved his arm down. He told John to basically get lost, but John ignored him and kept his eyes on you.
It was like love at first sight.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his and couldn’t hide the growing blush that heated your cheeks as he ever-so-slightly smiled at you. A small smile that disappeared as your father demanded his attention.
“Now son you get out of here before I get angry. I don’t want you anywhere near my daughter, you got that?”
John wanted to laugh at his vague threat. Who did this guy think he was? John put both hands up to show he meant no harm and took a few steps back.
“Didn’t mean nothing by it, sir,” He shrugged, “Was just being friendly.”
Your father scoffed saying he didn’t want any of John’s kindness and neither would you. You caught John’s eye while your father was speaking and mouthed ‘sorry’ with a sweet smile.
John was smitten immediately. He may seem like a big tough outlaw, but the guy is secretly a huge soft romantic. He was already envisioning your wedding and the type of house you two would build together in the middle of the prairie where no one would bother you and you could leave your respective lives.
He may have been getting ahead of himself.
Your father dragged you away and into the general store, John went off to finish a few more errands. He didn’t think he’d actually ever see you again until the moment he went back to his horse to ride back to camp.
He felt a quick tap on his shoulder and there you were looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.
From that moment on the two of you had to meet in secret - away from the watchful eye of your father. John took to sneaking in your bedroom anytime he got the inclination to see you (which was a daily occurrence tbh).
He’d take a stroll around the house to make sure your father’s room lights were off and see if yours were on and you were still awake. Due to his frequent visits, you were always up late waiting for him to call on you.
It was all fun and games until he’s waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to climb back out of your window before your father woke up to find him lounging in your bed. That would be a messy scene.
Dutch Van Der Linde:
Dutch thought he was too old to have to worry about meeting parents and getting the approval to see the lady he fancied. He was an old dog; he liked younger women of course but never the type who were of a higher social standing than him and needed that.
Then he met you.
You swooped into his life with your pretty dresses and sweet words and you didn’t want him at all at first. It made him want you even more.
It’s no secret that rich men are corrupt and willing to meet with anyone to make a quick buck. Your father met with Dutch to provide some intel about a train full of valuables and treasures that were interesting to both parties involved. Your dad wanted a cut of what was on that train provided the Van Der Linde gang robbed it.
Your father wasn’t a good man. He enjoyed money a little too much, and saw you as property more than his daughter. He was overprotective of you - to the point that he refused to ever let you out of his sight for even a second.
You went to every meeting between the two men and at first didn’t give a damn about Dutch. You thought he was handsome, but not the type of man you’d ever be interested in. Not until your father warned you to stay away from men like that.
He even went so far as to comment that he didn’t like the way Dutch looked at you. It fueled something inside of you. The idea of rebelling in such a way. Dutch was attractive, he had money, an exciting life, and most of all it would piss your father off if you courted the gang leader.
The next time there was a meeting between the three of you, you bat your eyelashes and laughed at Dutch’s jokes a little too hard.
Dutch bid you farewell by kissing the knuckles on your hand, and you loved the way your father basically had smoke coming out his ears at the action.
Your father didn’t bring you with him the next time he went to a meeting with Dutch. He locked you in your room, and only unlocked the door to check on you before bed that night.
You were pouting and writing a long sob-story in your diary when you heard a soft tap on the glass of your window.
You pulled back your blinds to see Dutch crouching in the dirt by your window with a wicked grin on his face.
“Can I come in, Darlin’?” He cooed with a sweet voice. You opened your window immediately and he ducked through the frame.
“You didn’t come with your father today, he said you didn’t want to attend the meetings anymore.”
You explain that you’ve basically been kept a prisoner in your room all day since your dad was convinced Dutch was trying to steal you away from him. You grumble out a few curse words after you explain and roll your eyes.
“What if I am tryin’ to steal you away?” Dutch whispered, his eyes dark and sparkling in the lamp light. You didn’t realize how pretty he was.
You bite your lip and smile, trying to keep on a tough act at his words. It’s no use, though. He’s charming, it’s why he is who he is.
“Maybe I’d let you,” You reply in a sultry low tone.
That’s all Dutch needed to hear. He helped you pack a small bag of items to bring with you and he brought you back to the camp where the gang was staying.
On your bed, you left a note telling your father you were running off with a man. Shortly after that Dutch mailed out a post saying he didn’t want to do business with your father anymore. It was all settled.
He stole you away to join him at camp, and that’s where you stayed.
Javier Escuella:
You met Javier by chance one night when you were being harassed by a local lawman after a night out at the theater. Javier rushed to the alley when he heard your shouts ordering the man to stay away from you.
Javier saw red and let his instincts take over him. He grabbed the man by the collar of his very nice shirt and used it to throw him to the mud.
“The lady asked you nicely to leave her alone. Now, I won’t be so nice if I have to ask. So, tell me, do I have to be the one to request you leave her alone?”
The man scrambled in the mud, splattering it on his dress pants and coat, as he picked himself up and ran away.
Javier introduced himself and offered to walk you home. You were a little wary of him at first, what with the guns at his belt and the knife at his thigh, but he assured you that he was not a threat. He just didn’t want you risking getting harassed again on your journey to your house.
You took him up on his offer and as he dropped you off at your front door you gave him a quick, shy peck on the cheek and asked if he wouldn’t mind coming to visit again in the future.
Javier is a blushing bumbling mess but somehow finds the words to agree and see you again later on in the week.
From that point on, this man spoils you in every possible way. He brings you flowers, fine pelts, jewelry (don’t ask where he got it), and little poems he writes or likes just so that you have a little piece of his heart.
Does your father care about all of that? No. He just cares about Javier’s status as an outlaw, a killer. He’s heard the rumors about the Van Der Linde Gang and he refuses to allow one of the members anywhere near you.
Javier is willing to do anything to see you, though.
You started leaving your windows perched open during the warm summer nights, and a low whistle alerted you to a person sitting right outside the glass. Your curtains were fluttering slightly with the wind and so all you saw was the shadow of a figure causing your mind to think of the worst scenarios possible.
You drew a knife from your vanity and clasped it in your hand ready to call for your father, but you heard a familiar voice lowly call out.
“Mi amor?”
You let out a sigh of relief and pulled the curtains back fully to see Javier smiling at you with a bouquet of wild flowers in his hands. “I wanted to see you and I couldn’t wait any longer.”
You asked him to wait outside while you barricaded your bedroom door with a stool, then opened the window wider for him to duck inside.
At first he didn’t really know what to do with himself, he planned to give you the flowers and have a quick kiss before needing to leave -  he did not expect you to usher him inside.
You took the flowers from his hands and placed them on your dresser next to the box of trinkets and gifts Javier has given you before.
You sit on your bed and make a spot for him to sit beside you. He isn’t really sure what the gentlemanly thing to do is in that situation, but just to be safe he sits on the floor by your feet. He’s gazing up at you as if you were the moon itself and doesn’t even try to hide the way his breathing quickens every time your eyes meet.
It becomes routine for him to visit you nearly every night and wait for you to barricade your door before allowing him in. Eventually he gets more comfortable and feels better about sitting next to you on your bed - though he knows it was not the proper thing to do.
He really wanted to court you the proper way, but with your father being so hesitant to know him outside of his status he had to be a little lenient on conventional courting methods.
Charles Smith:
Charles has been sneaking into your room for years.
You were childhood sweethearts, but your father had hated the relationship from the moment you expressed any sort of soft feelings for the boy.
When he first started sneaking in, it was just because your father didn’t want you to be friends. You and Charles were inseparable, so he’d sneak in when he could to read your books and play with your toys while your father was at work.
As you grew older, your feelings grew too.
You developed a strong crush on Charles and he was completely oblivious to it. At first, since you didn’t know how to express your feelings, you pushed him away and told him to stop visiting you.
Charles was crushed when you essentially told him to get lost. He couldn’t understand what caused your change of heart - he figured maybe your father had finally gotten to you and you realized you were too rich, too pretty to be his friend.
Charles stopped climbing through your bedroom windows and started only seeing you in public spaces or whenever you took your horse out for a ride.
Eventually, though, even those interactions dwindled and Charles stopped seeing you altogether.
It broke you when you didn’t speak with Charles anymore. You thought it better that way. He couldn’t find out your feelings for him - especially since you were certain he didn’t feel the same way.
Years go by, you stop seeing Charles even in fleeting moments. You heard he ran off and was living alone in the wilderness.
It was your fault, you thought. You pushed him away during his time of need and now there was no way of knowing what became of him. Whether he was alive or dead.
You grow older, your heart growing cold and calloused, and you never really recovered from the hurt you put yourself through.
One night, you’re a passenger on a train taking you deeper into the west of America when there was a loud commotion at one end of the passenger car you were in.
You put down your novel and see a group of masked men with weapons demanding valuables from every patron they pass by. They were slowly moving down the aisle, approaching where you were sitting at an alarmingly fast pace. You couldn’t think of a way out of the situation without giving away every last bit of money you had on you.
That is, until one of the masked men gets to you and instead of the harsh demands and pointed threats you expected to hear, you hear your name being whispered softly.
You look up, skin ablaze with fear and eyes watering. Through your tears you can see a familiar set of dark brown eyes peering down at you as if you were a ghost.
“Ch…Charles?” You squint. You questioned if it was just a mirage, a trick of your brain due to fear, but there was no doubting it. Those were Charles’ eyes.
He softly grabbed you by the arm and helped you out of your seat.
“Come with me,” He whispered as he pushed you through the aisle towards the exit. “I promise nothing will happen to you.”
It was stupid, but you blindly agreed as he led you out of the train and onto the dusty earth.
Charles and you caught up as the rest of his posse finished robbing the passengers of the train. You learned that he had been taken in by the Van Der Linde gang and was making a living as an outlaw. After seeing what you did on the train, that part of his story checked out.
You caught up with him as well, you informed him of your father’s fate and how his will left everything to you. How you regretted pushing him away as a teenager and how you wished he could forgive you.
“I never even hated you for it,” He said softly, “There is nothing to forgive, it’s how the world is sometimes. Cruel.”
You tried to explain your feelings at the time, but the embarrassment of it never let you fully explain.
Charles offered to take you home, but you wanted nothing more than to continue catching up with him and learning about his new life, his new family. Charles took you back to camp, and you ended up staying there with him for a few weeks. (For a fee of course, as Dutch had so cleverly thought up)
Your feelings for Charles rose to the surface once again, and you weren’t sure when or if there would ever be a time to explain how madly in love with him you were.
Sean MacGuire:
The first time y’all met was when he was sneaking through your window late one night.
Dutch had given Sean a vague plan about robbing a local lawmaker’s house while the man was scheduled to be two towns over for some political business. Dutch figured it would be a quiet, simple mission to grab some extra loot and not worry about being caught.
Sean paced around your house a few times after midnight the day your father left, and when he didn’t see any lights on or movements he figured it was safe to go in.
He checked a few key points of entry, but the windows on the ground-floor were locked and he didn’t want to risk leaving any evidence of there being a break-in for when the lawmaker came back.
Sean noticed that a window on the second floor was open the tiniest sliver, he’d be able to use a dagger to wedge it open wide enough to slip his hand in and open it fully.
He climbed up some vines growing on the side of the wood paneling and pulled his dagger to wedge it open. Once he got himself inside, he turned towards the window to close it.
His entire body stiffened when he heard the metallic click of a pistol being cocked from behind him.
“Now I’ll only say this one time, Mister, you need to get outta here before I blow a hole in you and make a mess all over these clean floors.” The threat was serious, Sean knew that, but he couldn’t help but perk up at the sweet sound of your voice as you told him you were going to shoot him if he didn’t leave.
He put his hands up, dropping the dagger he had, and turned to face you slowly. The house was dark. Shadows danced across your face and shielded your eyes making you look lethal with the gun pointed at his chest. Sean thought you were beautiful.
“I mean no harm, Miss. Just business ‘s all,” Sean gave you a toothy smile which only made you narrow your eyes.
You told him you were going to give him one chance to leave and he’d only stay if he had a death wish.
Sean wanted nothing more than to stay with you and use whatever methods he could to woo you, but he was familiar with the look in your eyes and the tone of your voice. He was scheduled to meet the gods above if he didn’t slip back out that window and into the night.
After he left, he was already planning the ways he could meet you again - under more favorable circumstances of course. He decided to visit you the next day with a peace offering and a smile.
Once dawn broke over the horizon, painting the world in a golden orange light, Sean was already up and out of camp heading to your large house on the hill.
He knocked on the door and you answered after a few minutes. Your hair was messy from sleep and your nightgown was covered by a long robe that was hastily thrown on to save your modesty.
“What the hell?” You grumbled and looked at Sean as if he had grown three heads. “Either you are the stupidest man on the planet for comin’ back here, or you truly do have a death wish. If it’s the latter give me a second to grab the gun.”
Sean was in love immediately.
“I wanted to apologize for last night. I never woulda thought ‘bout stealing from a man with such a pretty woman living under his roof.” He handed you a small box saying that it was a piece offering. Inside was a large silver coin and a note that said ‘thanks for not shooting me’.
You rolled your eyes and scoffed, but pocketed the coin and note nonetheless. You invited him in, but warned him any funny business would not end favorably for him. He only shot you a coy smile and promised that he was only coming as a gentleman, not an outlaw.
The two of you grew as friends at first but once things seemed to grow more romantic, you had to start sneaking around and avoiding your father finding out about the relationship and how it started.
Sean was glad he got the practice sneaking in your window that first night, though, because it was common practice while the two of you had to keep your romantic relations a secret.
Sadie Adler:
Sadie was a shell of herself when you met her.
She was still mourning the loss of her husband and trying to become accustomed to her new life as a member of the Van Der Linde Gang when you stumbled into her one day.
She was just starting to get back on her feet and was at the tailors in town when you strolled in with your fancy clothes and styled hair.
She wasn’t intimidated per say, but she felt a little inadequate in comparison. What with her ragged hand-me-downs from Miss Grimshaw and her few coins that she saved to buy a new linen shirt - you were like royalty compared to her.
You approached her first at the tailors. You asked if she had been in town long as you didn’t recognize her, where she came from, where her husband was (assuming she was married). Sadie didn’t know how to answer all the questions you threw in her direction.
You broke down her walls, though. You bought the shirt that she wanted and even invited her to tea with you at your house to talk about what had been plaguing her the last few weeks.
She didn’t want it to help, but Sadie could physically feel the relief flood her chest as she stopped holding on to her emotions and let them flow freely. A friendship between the two of you grew quickly and rapidly.
Then, it grew to be a little more.
Sadie had been working on jobs with Arthur and gaining her confidence back. In doing so, she finally got the nerve to kiss you goodbye one night when she was getting ready to go back to camp.
She gazed at you nervously after she did it. She couldn’t figure out what your expression meant - whether she went too far, or if you even liked her back in that way.
Tears slipped from your eyes as you looked up at her and grabbed her cheeks, shoving your lips against hers. Her kiss was sweet and gentle, but yours was aggressive and needy. You didn’t realize she felt the same way about you, and knowing that she did created a swell in your heart that never went away.
After your first kiss, you had to keep your relationship on the downlow. Your father knew that the two of you were friends (he hardly liked even that), if he found out that y’all were girlfriends he would separate you for good.
Sadie came up with the plan to visit you during the day as a good honest lady of society, but at night she would climb up through your window to enjoy spending time with you as a partner instead.
Friend by day, girlfriend by night.
Sadie slipped through your window every other night, quieter than a shadow when she came in. Sometimes you’d turn around and she would just be getting in and it would make you squeak a little as it startled you.
She kissed you to keep you quiet when that happened, though (teehee)
Sadie would spend hours with you at night. You’d help her brush her hair when there were missions she was on that took days and she wasn’t able to care for her locks. You’d let her borrow your nightgowns if she ever wanted to stay and relax in your bed until dawn.
The two of you would hold each other and talk until the mourning doves sang their melancholy songs in the early hours of the morning.
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dabi-drift · 7 months
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Orter Madl x Reader (Mashle: Magic and Muscles):
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Orter is supposed to kill you, but he finds himself making excuses. He hates you; you're so stubborn, and you don't have any magic. But he's attracted to you. He feels like Eve in the garden, and you're the forbidden fruit.
You're like a spoil of the war he fights with himself.
He's never needed niceties or love, but he's starting to wish that he was more well-versed. He's the definition of 'He bullies you because he likes you.' And he's the only one who can. If death tries to find you through another avenue, he'll save you. He'll always save you.
But he'll deny that he did it for you.
He'll convince the Visionaries to spare you, and he'll put a fake mark on you to keep you safe. But due to the intervention of Matchmaker "There's a way to save them, but they have to live with you" Ryoh, you're on house arrest. In Orter's house.
It's a blessing and a curse. He'll never tell you, but you have these doe eyes that make him want to give you the world. He never thought of his house as a home, but now you're in his sheets, and you're wearing his clothes, and he just wants you to stay. He wants to come home to you. It's like he spent his whole life wanting you.
And the domesticity…it's like you're married. He can't believe that once upon a time, you were strangers - that he almost never met you.
You won't change his opinion of those without magic. You're the exception, not the rule (and the seed of his hypocrisy).
And maybe love made him stupid, but he makes a pilgrimage to your heart every day. He wants you in his arms, and your kiss on his lips. He wants to be your knight, and your lover. He wants you, but he'll pretend that he doesn’t.
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