#mb it's just me cause I rarely (never??) see this type of man and it was like a sigh from above?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

devoureddreaa · 4 months

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bros the type too.. ryomen sukuna boyfriend headcannons

okay…ik i disappeared for a few days (a month is not a few) but i’m back now, so yay!! and i’ve got sukuna headcannons cause he’s been growing on me lately, so hope you enjoy!! >.<

— bro is a menace to society and would most likely kill someone if they were to look at him for too long. but when it comes to you, sukuna can be a bit a softy. (a softy is an understatement, the curse is totally whipped).

for instance, he won’t let anyone touch him. touch him and you’ll end up with your head off of your shoulders. but when it comes to you..the literal love of his (overly long) life; you could touch him wherever and sukuna wouldn’t mind at all.

“why’d you stop?”

your gaze moved from your phone to the face that sat comfortably in between each of your thighs. you tilted your head to side and furrowed your eyebrows, “stopped what?”

sukuna looked puzzled, possibly looking for a way to explain it without sounded corny.

“the things you do with my hair.”

“oh, play with you hair?” a warm smiled appeared on your face first, then a breathless giggle. “thought you did like people touching you.”

“i don’t care with you do, woman.”

“whatever you want..”

he ended up getting his spiky pink locks played with again, and he ended up falling asleep like a new-born.

— bros the type to deny to everybody that he is head over heels for you. everyone sees it and everyone knows it..but if they were to ever mention it, sukuna would deny deny deny.

especially to his good friend, uraume. he’ll rant and rave about how good you are and how much he loves you any chance he gets with her.

“if you wanna marry her, just do it already!”

sukuna paused, “what?”

“you’ve been telling me about the girl for the past five minutes.” uraume laughed under her breath, “she really has you wrapped around her finger.”

— on top of that, bros the type to give you praise more than anything. he dosent know much about love languages, or affection in general. he’ll try when he feels it’s right, trust, he will cringe the first few times, having a hard time going anything in general. but he’ll get used to it.. (but he hates when you tease him about it)

“you say something?” you looked at the man through the mirror, he was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed as his gaze laid somewhere on the floor.

you were so busy with trying to line your lips, you didn’t hear what sukuna had said..

“i said you look good. really..beautiful.” it was a sight to see someone who could murder someone with the blink of an eye act so..timid.

“awe.” you turned you head and peered over your shoulder, “you shy, ‘kuna?”

“i take it back.” he grumbled, turning to leave the bathroom. you quickly ran after him and tugged onto his arm.

“i was juuust kidding!” you smiled innocently, “thank you, sukuna.”

he didn’t say anything back, but the look on his face was enough.

— bros the type to not use pet names that often. sukuna has never seen the point of them, and sees them as pointless. he uses them rarely, and whenever he does..it catches you off guard.

“bae..!” sukuna called out, he expected a quick response and was confused when he didn’t get one.

“bae!”

no response, “y/n!”

“huh?!” you finally responded and poked your head from around the corner with concern, “why are you yelling?”

“you weren’t responding.”

you took a second then realized, “oooh! you were calling me? thought that was something else..”

— bros the type to love you in his own weird way, even though he’s a sadistic psycho.

i finally uploaded… also! mb for disappearing, school and life got in the way. but im back! promise, im not a coryxkenshin 2.0 ;-;. ive got more things coming so i hope you enjoy..and remember, you can always request something! love you, baaaiii!!! (if you saw any typos, no you didn’t)

#sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #ryomen x reader #jjk fluff #x reader #jujutsu ryomen

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wishmemel · 6 months

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OMGOMG SAFI congrats on 100 ml !! hihii im here to participate in your cute slumber party event ! (i even brought my fave pillow and totoro plushie)

okok soo yk i'm dria 🩵 black / caribbean, around 5'1 (i promise im so close to 5'2 don't @ me haters will hate i drink my milk and eat my veggies) i have huge hair!! like very big hair, too many curls!! it's alot! i love reading, i write plenty of poetry, which is what i use most of my time to do — i lovelove r&b and early 2000s rap music. however, if u open my spotify rn and shuffle my liked songs it would go in order of hip hop, rap, afrobeats, classical music bcus my taste is all over the place. (i also keep a folder of edit audios for my own maladaptive daydreaming purposes lmao)

im rlly a baby blue girlie, fave flowers are tulips (idk my brain js thinks they look yummy), fave season is autumn ofc bcus rainy weather and i have an excuse to stay inside under my blankets 😭 fave animal would beee a black panther or a tabby cat! (my bby bella is a tabby lmao) i love vintage shows (rlly old noir films of all types of genres) i love cinema and visual art it stimulates me sm (im autistic btw i forgot to say mb) i've watched almost every wes anderson film in existence i love soft color palettes in film so bad <3

i enjoy watching old cartoons to relive my childhood nostalgia, jewelry (esp rings i never go anywhere without one or two on), rainy days, late night car drives, baggy shirts, scented candles, afrobeats n anything astronomy related.

im very much a social science n humanities junkie - yearning to be a clinical psychiatrist or complete my dream of teaching literature / psychology. i cry very easily (im js a crybaby istg) - in general im just very very emotional and more often than not i forget common sense and instinct are a thing bcus wtv i feel i just go with it - though i am extremely introverted and freak out when overstimulated in huge crowds and whatnot.

for the event im picking toji bcus that man is the love of my life bye ☹️ the epitome of sunshine and sunshine protector - tiny human and big scary guard dog ! in terms of our compatibility, we're so opposite it's insane! but we balance each other out well. sometimes i have to serve as toji's brain bcus this man is spending money he does not have on all sorts of things for me js cause i looked twice (my sister hced that he'd go below bankrupt buying me sanrio plushies and rings) he works mostly off instinct where i go completely off emotion so we butt heads alot in terms of decision making but he does not know how to tell me no, all i do is sigh once and HES DONE FOR.

i stress this man out like hes my full time babysitter pls

we acc spend alot of time having deep talks about the world and life in general, (i told him ab the backrooms lore and it messed w his head for weeks) which is a side of him he rarely shows to anyone (also he listens to me rant abt daily pop culture developments bcus he lowkey loves the celebrity drama) he's rlly protective, and even moreso bcus of how my anxiety gets. in a crowd this man is standing in front of me and blocking my view of everyone (he also subconsciously pulls me into his side when we're walking in public bcus my autistic ass will see one thing and wander off never to be found again) im always talking like talk talk talking and he pretends he isn't listening but he's literally able to repeat today something i mentioned two weeks ago - he's attentive, shows his love through actions rather than words. if i even make a face that gives away that im uncomfortable being somewhere, or my social battery is dead, hes taking me home no questions asked not a care as to who says what.

im an affection junkie - physical touch is my thing ! and hes so big! so im always pouncing on him for bear hugs and he acts so unimpressed and cocky abt it like "oh you missed me? im not goin anywhere relax" but he acc melts bcus when was the last time someone gave him affection?? he prob thinks im a figment of his imagination lolol

days off / dates would mainly be : window shopping, grocery runs, sitting in the park at sunset, indoor ramen dates n movie marathons and cuddles !!

AHHH sorry if i ranted way too much omg i can't wait to see what you do safi, i'll love anything u write ily so baddd <33

note: hihi dria, thanks for bringing your fave pillow and your totoro plush to the slumber party.

dria x toji — ꒰ tojria

“in this space right here that we have made for each other, you can say anything and i will not abandon you. unwrap the worst things you have done. watch me hold them up to the light and not even flinch.”

height differences, cinnamoroll x badtz maru, protective touches, 3 am conversations about life, romantic picnics at sunset, shopping together, opposites attract, shy x protective, princess treatment, introvert x introvert, buckling your seatbelt for you, tired bf x hyper gf, teasing remarks, day x night, accidental eye contact, blushing, midnight walks, late night phone calls, giddiness, sunshine x sunshine protector, stealing his clothes, late night drives, deleted texts, holding hands under the table, "mean to everyone but her" bf, head pats, she fell first, he fell harder.

being with toji is not always as seamless or easy as you make it look. He's gruff and protective and difficult and incredibly stubborn. like that time you two fought because he was ignoring what you were saying and he flat-out refused to acknowledge your demand when you called him out on it. to be fair, he'd come home after an eight-hour shift and you'd started talking his head off, but it wouldn't kill him to listen. he wasn't paying attention when you were talking about that new hello kitty cafe with the fun milkshakes and the mini donuts that you wanted to try. hell, he ended up falling asleep on your shoulder after brushing off your argument and as much as you wanted to remain angry at him, you'd softened immediately upon seeing his tired face, all eyebags and troubled frown. and he did make it up to you later by taking you to said cafe and proving that he had been listening, though when you brought it up to him, he pretended not to know what you were talking about. but deep down he cares for you and he's trying — you know he's trying and you don't want to make him feel bad for things he can't control. a lot of the concerns you should bring up to him, you don't — you want this relationship to be easy and safe. you want him to feel comfortable with you the same way that you feel comfortable with him. even if sometimes he comes home with a busted lip and bloody knuckles and sends your heart skidding against your ribcage. but what matters is that he comes to you first and he comes home to you. so you know that no matter what, no matter how he's feeling, if he thinks he can talk to you or not, he'll always come home to you. and even if you doubt his commitment sometimes, he knows that you're home to him and he'll do anything to keep it that way.

NOW PLAYING

the way i loved you, enchanted, daylight, afterglow, how you get the girl, treacherous, sparks fly, so it goes...

join safi's perfect slumber party event — requests are open for everyone!

#꒰ safi's perfect slumber party. ꒱

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justauthoring · 5 years

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that one meeting // francesco pazzi

Request(s): Hello, dear!❤ I want to ask if you could write an imagine where reader isn't involved in Medici/Pazzi rivalry,she isn't noble (mb, a daughter of some successful merchant),but it doesn't bother her, she's confident & caring person. Once she bumps into Francesco,the encounter ends up intense, but he starts to take interest & he finds comfort in her after the failure at the tournament.I want to see soft Francesco,his feelings & unsuccessful attempts to deny them due to fear of becoming vulnerable.

Could you do a Francesco Pazzi with a reader that’s kind of out of her time. Like, she’s not scared to speak up, and she would want to be the head of her house one day, instead of her husband. Maybe she meets him for a meeting, and he’s a little confused. Like, isn’t your brother/father supposed to be here for this meeting? Something like that.

Domestic fluff with Francesco? I can’t think of anything specifically but maybe their first meeting, then the wedding (+night) and so on?

Francesco Pazzi x reader meet at a masked ball?💗

Requested by: @colorfulangelhandskid (I had to change your (the last) request slightly, hope you dont mind!)

Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Word Count: 3,373

“Here’s just through here, Ma Donna.”

With a polite smile, you clasp your hands before yourself, bowing at the servant as he makes his exit, stepping in through the door. You let your eyes wander on the interior design of the room, before settling on the man positioned adjacent to you.

At the sound of your footsteps, the man slowly straightens out, turning his head over his shoulder, his body following, to face you.

With a bow of your head, you raise a brow; “I was hoping to see Jacopo Pazzi,” you comment after a moment, letting your eyes wander across the man before you. He can only be a few years older than yourself, possibly even less than that, and it is that that makes you certain that this is not Jacopo Pazzi stood before you. Your brother had warned you that the man was older, as old as your own father, and that he had a nasty looking face, for lack of a better description.

“My uncle apologizes,” the man begins, and you are not oblivious to the way his eyes glance past your shoulder, towards the door you’d just entered; as if he expects another to come waltzing through. “But he had urgent business to attend to in regards to our bank. He left me in charge for the time being.”

“Ah,” you nod with a small smile. Stepping forward, you stop by the table the same man is stood by, setting down the files in your hands before meeting the man’s gaze once more. “Well then, I am Y/N Y/L/N, and you are..?”

The man accepts your outstretched hand hesitantly, a air of confusion surrounding him. “Francesco Pazzi,” he introduces with a slight squeeze and shake of your hand. As you let go, your hand falling by your side, Francesco clasps his own behind his back, turning towards the door once more. “Should we wait for your brother, or--”

“There’s no need,” you cut off gently, never tearing your gaze off of the papers before you, filing out those you need and those you do not. “It is just me.”

“Oh.”

Inwardly, you sigh, carefully not to let your frustration show. It is best not to be improper and rude to potential investors, no matter how much this tiring and often-reoccurring conversation has begun to get on your nerves.

Finally, you raise your head, you meet the man’s dark eyes once more. “Not used to doing business with a woman?”

“It is not that--” Francesco falls shut at the knowing look you send his way, his shoulders falling. “Well, if I am being honest, yes. It is odd for a man to let his sister do his meetings for him.”

“I assure you, Messer Pazzi, my brother is not letting me do anything,” your words are spoken with barely concealed snide. Despite the smile plastered on your lips, it is obvious that your patience is growing thin. While you are not unused to this type of discrimination, it never seizes to annoy you. “We work along side each other, you see. Now that my father is too old to run the family, we work as a partnership. We do so until we have built families of our own and so that when I am married, I can become the head of the family.”

Francesco laughs. Quite literally... laughs. It bursts from his lips before he is seemingly able to stop or control himself. He is quick to cover it, despite the damage already done, his hand falling to his lips in seconds as he composes himself.

“I see you find it amusing, Messer Pazzi.”

“It is just... unheard of. I meant no insult, Ma Donna Y/L/N.”

“Yes, well,” letting the smile fade, you turn back to the table. “I’d really like to get on with the meeting, so I can leave as soon as possible.”

Francesco smiles falters slightly at your quickly placed insult, narrowing his eyes just slightly as you continue to smile up at him. With a slight cough, he shifts, squaring his shoulders with a nod. “Right,” he mumbles, “let’s get on with business then.”

About two hours later, you and Francesco are done and thankfully pleased with the outcome of your arrangements. You find yourself genuinely smiling as Francesco leads you out of the room, knowing that your brother and father will be pleased and you’ve set up a beneficial arrangement for your family.

As you move to leave, you turn to Francesco with a genuine smile, as opposed to before, with your hand held out. “It was wonderful doing business with you, Messer Pazzi,” you say politely and professionally. “I’m sure both of our families will be pleased with the outcomes.”

Francesco accepts your handshake this time without any hesitance, squeezing firmly with a genuine smile on his lips. “Indeed,” he nods. With that, you turn to leave, before Francesco stops you; “how long are you and your family planning on staying in Florence, Ma Donna Y/L/N?”

“Oh, indefinitely,” you answer plainly with a small nod. “Father is too ill to move around anymore, so it seems this is to be our new home.”

You don’t seem to take notice of the smile that falls on Francesco lips as you make your way outside. His eyes watch you carefully, your movements and all, as you glance up at him with a smile one last time.

“Maybe we will see each other around then.”

“Maybe, Messer Pazzi.”

After days, and then weeks, begin to pass by. Francesco finds himself losing hope that he will see you again. He spends his days mainly in the Pazzi bank, working hard by his uncle and brother’s side, almost relentlessly and it is very rare he is able to enjoy a moment to himself outside of his own room.

You yourself are quite busy as well. You run around, making arrangements and investments and the such with your brother, working harder and harder to make a name for yourselves and your family.

And it seems to be working, as both a blessing and opportunity lands your way when you are invited to a gathering of some noble families. It is some sort of masked ball, something of which you’ve never had the privilege to go to. You find yourself counting down the days to the event, not only because of the opportunity it provides your family but because of the fact that this is your first time going to such an event.

You find yourself adorned in a dress way too elegant and fancy for yourself, and a wide smile on your lips as you litter across the room with a mask over your eyes, hiding your identity. Both your brother and yourself had been invited, and you find yourself dancing with him in the midst of the crowd, bursts of laughs leaving your lips as he twirls you around and treats you with respect only he was ever capable of doing.

The ball is everything you could’ve hoped it to be, and you find yourself practically mesmerized and in disbelief at the sight of it.

With business done and out of the way, you let your professional side fade and yourself to enjoy the rest of the night.

With a soft laugh, you slow your step, slipping your hands out of your brothers as you quickly excuse yourself. Your feet are somewhat sore, and you need a moment to catch your breath as you weave your way through the pairs of dancing couples to the sides, taking a drink off of one the servant plasters and relishing in the feeling of the cold liquid down your throat.

When you turn your attention back on your brother, mask in hand and away from your face, you find him already sweeping another woman off of her feet, causing your lips to curve upwards in a bright smile.

“Ma Donna Y/L/N, I wondered if that was you.”

Lips parting, you turn your head to right, meeting the slight familiar eyes of a masked face. As the man continues to make his way towards you, your eyes widen upon realization; “Messer Pazzi?”

Pulling the mask away, Francesco smirks down at you; “the one and only.”

Raising a coy brow, you roll your eyes at his smugness; “I didn’t expect to see you here,” you comment, watching as the man falls next to your side. “Parties hadn’t seemed like your thing.”

“My family is great friends with the hosts,” Francesco explains with a nod, letting his eyes wander across the crowd. “And yourself?”

“Invited by the hosts,” you explain with a smile. “They thought it a great opportunity to find out more about who they were investing their money into. Can’t say I blame them.”

“Well, i’m sure you charmed your way into the deal.”

With a slight roll of your eyes and laugh, you nod; “it worked on you, didn’t it?”

Francesco pauses a moment, letting his eyes fall on your own and steadily meeting your gaze. The smirk never faltering from his lips, Francesco lets out a chuckle. “You sure do know your way with words, Ma Donna Y/L/N.”

“Please,” you whisper, “Y/N.”

“Hmm?”

Blinking up at him, you feel your cheeks warm slightly, despite yourself. “We aren’t doing business now, are we Messer Pazzi? So, please, call me Y/N.”

“Then call me Francesco,” he grins down at you, “sound like a deal?”

“Okay, Francesco,” you can’t help but notice the way his name seems to roll off the tip of your tongue with ease. Almost perfectly. “Sounds like a deal.”

With a nod, Francesco takes a step forward, turning his body towards you as your eyes fall on his hand, his palm held up and open towards you. You stare at it a moment, before meeting his eyes once more with slightly confusion. With a soft smile, Francesco grins; “you won’t deny me a dance will you, Y/N?” He questions coyly. “Certainly not when you look as beautiful as you do.”

Feeling your cheeks warm, your gaze lowers bashfully. But still, you set your hand in his own.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You can’t help the way you jumps at the sight of his body slamming to the ground. You can’t hear it, but you’re sure the impact is both powerful and painful.

You don’t share in the cheers of victory from those around you towards the winner of the tournament; Lorenzo De Medici. You barely know the man and while he seemed kind enough, you can’t seem to find yourself as happy as the others at the sight of Francesco, crawling up to his feet with barely concealed pain in his eyes.

Your eyes watch his movements carefully, hesitating to rush after him right away and waiting for the right and appropriate moment. You watch as Francesco ignores the hand Lorenzo holds out towards him, mumbling something you can’t make out before making his way over to his uncle. You had heard of the rivalry between the Pazzi and Medici when you’d first arrived in Florence, but hadn’t paid much mind to it because truthfully you hadn’t cared.

But now that you knew Francesco better, it being a few weeks since the ball and your friendship having become steady and strong, you found yourself feeling both pity and concern for the man and resentment towards the Medici -- to no tru fault of their own. Purely based off of biased.

So the moment he steps away from his uncle, you take your chance, making your way around and through the crowds of people to meet him. He is completely by himself when you find him, attempting to pull off his tunic with haste, his lips curling in discomfort at the injuries that had befallen on him.

Ignoring the nerves in your stomach, you inhale sharply; “allow me to help.”

You don’t meet Francesco’s gaze as he turns to face you, bowing your head as you position yourself in front of him, your hands raising to unbutton his tunic while he remains sat in his chair. Francesco says nothing as you do so, and silently, you pull off the tunic, leaving him in nothing but a thin white shirt. You hesitate before pulling off the shirt, finally flickering your gaze upwards to meet his; “i’ll have to take of your shirt to assess the wounds properly.”

“I didn’t know you were so adverse in skills, Y/N.”

“I’m not,” you say softly, “but i’ll be able to help you better than you will.”

Francesco says nothing in response, silently pulling his shirt up and over his head. You’re careful not to let your gaze wander longer than appropriate, but unable to hide the blush on your cheeks at the sight of him so bare and vulnerable before you. Long ago had you accepted your growing affections for Francesco, but this was the closest the two of you had ever been and you find yourself struggling to react professionally.

You ignore his intense stare as you stare at the bruising along his ribs, letting your fingers gently stroke across the skin. “It doesn’t look serious,” you whisper, your gaze focused. “It will hurt for the next few days, and you’ll have a nasty bruise, but I don’t think you’ve broken anything.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Nodding, you move to pull away, but Francesco surprises you by taking your hand in his own. It causes your entire body to still, lips parting as your eyes flicker to meet his own. For a long while, it’s silent, the two of you just staring at one another before you whisper; “Francesco?”

Something about your voice must pull him out of his stupor. With a blink of the eye, he shakes his head, pulling his hand from your own. “Sorry.”

Part of you wonders if you should just leave it. But it doesn’t settle right within you to do so, and the way he had looked at you then hadn’t felt like nothing. So, biting your lip, you take a step forward, setting your hand on his cheek, pulling his eyes back on your own. “It’s okay,” you whisper, noticing the sense of vulnerability in his eyes but the way he tries to hide it.

“Y/N--”

You lower to your knees, crouching before the man as he remains sat on the chair before you. Letting your hand lower to his chest, you inhale deeply. “It’s okay,” you repeat, “I won’t hurt you.”

“You...” His words trail, eyes falling shut in frustration. “How can you...”

“I know that i’m not the only one who feels it,” you explain. “That i’m not the only one who felt it that day we met. And it’s okay. We don’t have to pretend.”

Francesco hesitates a moment, turning to look at you. His lips part to say something, but then he pauses, and then suddenly, either of his hands are on your cheeks, pulling you close and upwards to meet his lips. You instantly return the action, letting your hands fall on his hips as you curve your body into his own, eyes falling shut.

Francesco nips at your lower lip, and each of you pour your growing affections for one another in that one kissing, saying everything you could’ve said better than words.

And when he pulls back, Francesco leans his forehead against your own, his breath shaky.

“It’s okay,” you repeat, letting your thumb stroke his cheek. “It’s okay.”

“Your brother told me I could find you here.”

Eyes softening, you turn your head over your shoulder, an instant smile falling on your lips as you meet Francesco’s eyes. Instantly, you push yourself up to your feet, rushing over to him with a bright grin. Your hands fall on his cheeks as his wound around your waist, and you press your lips firmly against his.

“What are you doing here?” You breathe once you’ve pulled apart, falling back onto your feet instead of your tiptoes, biting your lip as you gaze up at him.

Francesco only smiles, stepping past you gently and making his way to the table you’d been sat at. His hands softly graze across the numerous books littered across the table, some opened, some shut. You watch him with a soft smile. blinking up at him when he turns back to look at you. “You never told me you read so much,” Francesco comments, smirking down at you coyly.

Shrugging your shoulders, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve loved to read since I was a little girl,” you explain idly, falling next to him by the table as you shut the book you’d been reading before he entered. “My mother used to read to me before she died,” you continued, leaning in Francesco’s touch as he lets his fingers stroke across your cheek down to your collarbone. “It reminds me of her. It’s silly, I know.”

Francesco smiles softly down at you; “I think it’s beautiful.”

Blushing faintly, you giggle softly, swatting his hand away playfully. “Now, are you going to tell me why you’re here or?”

Francesco smiles, confidently and he licks his lips slowly, his gaze never wandering from your own. “Patience is a virtue, love.”

“Don’t play coy with me, love,” you remark teasingly.

“Okay, okay,” Francesco relents, letting his hand fall on your hip as he tugs you towards him. Settling you so you are pressed chest against chest, Francesco takes your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger. “I came to ask for your hand in marriage.”

Surprise floods you, your eyes widen as your smile fades; not in disappointment but in disbelief. You find yourself stunned speechless, simply staring up at Francesco with wide eyes and parted lips.

After a moment, Francesco laughs nervously; “I sure hope your silence is a yes.”

Snapping out of your stupor, you blink, quickly nodding. “Yes, yes,” you sputter out, the words registering within you as you grin widely. “Oh, God, yes. Yes, yes, yes!”

Chuckling, Francesco takes your hand in his own; “you are happy?”

Biting your lip, you feel your eyes water; “beyond happy, Francesco, I...” Unable to find the words, you just lean forward, pressing your lips against his own with force and passion and warmth and love and everything you feel in that one moment. Francesco doesn’t hesitate to do the same, his one hand cupping the back of your head, the other placed firmly on your back, pulling you close.

When you pull back, you let out an airy laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“You have made me the happiness woman, Francesco.”

Brushing back your hair, Francesco smiles fondly down at you; “I am so glad. And trust me when I say this, you will be able to lead our family just as you have with your own.”

Smiling, you blink, unable to stop your tears; “thank you.”

“Thank you.”

“I have waited for this day for... months.”

You laugh, an air of happiness never leaving you as you begin to untie the laces of your dress. As you continue to do so, you turn to Francesco with a smirk; “you have?”

Raising his hand, Francesco helps untie the last string, his hands moving to pull the dress slowly off of your shoulders. “Since I first saw you in that dress at the masked ball,” he explains with a soft smile. “You were absolutely breathtaking, and that’s when I knew I was taken with you.”

Grinning, you move your hands to the hem of his shirt, shuffling closer to him so your legs are straddle over his own. “And whoever said I was the one gifted with words.”

Snorting, Francesco helps you pull his shirt over his head, leaving him bare to you before returning his attention to your dress. He slips the rest of it off your shoulders, his fingers gently tracing the skin from your collarbone to the dip in between your breasts to your stomach. And then, he pauses, meeting your eyes.

“I love you, you know that right?”

You nod without hesitance, pressing a kiss against the corner of his lips; “just as I love you.”

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