#she might not even be into me I still can’t tell. sometimes it’s obvious sometimes not.
harrys-titties · 2 days ago
Harry’s a dick and Y/N hates him for it. 
ANOTHER SNEAKY PEAKY BECAUSE I LOVE YOU ALL! It’s coming along very nicely, I’m hoping to get this one out in the next weekish or so! Add it to your diaries xx (also offer to be put on the tag list is still there, just let me know and I’ll add you!)
Harry frowns, “so why are you here at ten pm?” 
Y/N scowls slightly like it should be obvious, “I can’t figure it out.” He nods, “well, lemme have a look,” as if it wasn’t a big deal. Like by doing that, he wasn’t putting himself out, doing extra work that wasn’t his, at ten pm on a Tuesday.
She’s quick to refuse his help, not doing much as he gently pushes her chair away from the desk and occupies the space for himself, “no, Harry, you don’t have to do that! Really, I can figure it out.” 
Y/N fights away the feeling of déjà-vu as she’s taken aback by his proximity when he turns slightly, so close his breath tickles her lips as his eyes flicker down to look at them, “it’s fine, Y/N,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s not a problem.” 
Perhaps if she wasn’t so stunned by his actions, she’d have the strength to refuse again. Instead, she merely nods, taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. What on earth had gotten into her? Two times in one month, she’d thought about kissing him, and two times in one month, she’d actually wanted to. 
Y/N could smell Harry’s cologne as he typed away at the computer in front of her, each movement of his deft fingers sending another gust in her direction. Y/N feels her stomach tighten as he gently pulls at his lip as he reads the text in front of him, his eyes darting back and forth. The only thing that draws her attention away from his lips is the text notification from her phone. 
She forced herself to pull away from him, hoping whoever had texted her might pull her back into reality and knock some sense into her spinning head. However, the text she receives only works to confuse her further when she notices it’s from Liam.
Why in the ever living fuck would Liam be texting her? He hadn’t spoken to her since she’d sucked him off in the office bathroom, their last interaction consisting of him giving her some paper towel to wipe the cum off her fingers, and now he was messaging her? He’d ignored her for months. What was she supposed to do with the ‘hey! I was wondering if you wanted to go out for a drink sometime?’ she’d just received. 
It’s then Harry notices the girl beside him, frozen and looking at her phone, puzzled. He directs his attention toward her, leaving the computer in favour of whatever seems to be capturing her attention. 
“What’s wrong?” 
How could Y/N explain this? Liam had asked her not to tell anyone what had happened, and she’d respected his wishes, but now she was just confused. Not just confused, Y/N was angry. He really thought he could treat her like dirt and then waltz back into her life, asking her out once the boss looked at her favourably? Fuck no. Why was she doing him any favours in the first place? 
“Uh, it’s Liam.” 
Harry pauses, taking a second to process what she’d said. “Liam? As in Liam Payne? You mean the wanker with the middle part and leather jacket, Liam Payne?” 
She can’t help but giggle, and Harry revels in the way the furrow in her forehead softens slightly. Nodding, Y/N confirms Harry’s suspicions and leaves him desperately wanting to know why a prick like Liam even had the chance to text her. Why did someone like that have her number when even he didn’t?
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spicyicyricy · 3 months ago
I have a giant massive crush.
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writingwithcolor · 11 months ago
Avoiding ambiguous brown without cultural coding
@ahivemindoftwelvecati​ asked:
How should I, a white person, avoid making characters fall into the vaguely brown stereotype in my fantasy books? I’m against coding cultures into this book, as I’m really trying to create a unique world (ironically by studying a lot of different cultures). By doing this though, am I doomed to remove characters from cultural context, or leave people wandering in vague color shades? Especially since some of my characters would fall into various indigenous ethnicities, but share nothing cultural
In an interesting way, I think the Star Wars novels kind of do an okay job about it (of course, others might differ, in which case I defer to them, but in my opinion they pull off something similar). For context, it all takes place in a galaxy where absolutely none of Earth’s cultures are present, but there are still human beings that are Latine-coded, Black-coded, etc, and they accomplish this through very simple descriptions of character appearances. For example, there was a Black-coded woman and her description ran something along the lines of “She had dark, rich brown skin and her hair was curled tightly, pulled back into a bun. She hated the moist heat of the swamp planet, but she had to admit her hair never looked better.” Through that, the audience understands that she’s most likely Black-coded (dark skin+tight curls), but they avoid cultural points (also the little detail of humid heat being great for curls is just a cute lil extra IMO, that’s something I hear people with 3- or 4-type hair saying a lot).
The pitfall here is that, since there’s no cultures analogous to what we have here in our world, each reader will have different interpretations of what each character might identify as ethnically. Who someone might headcanon as Korean, another might headcanon as Chinese, etc. That’s something you have to figure out for yourself if you’re okay with having--just that vague sense of ‘ah, this person must be from this vague region of the world’--or if you want to be more explicit.
So… to expand on the point Sophia put out that it’s up to the reader to determine what race somebody “really” is and how that’s a problem.
One of my best friends is mixed Japanese/white. Thanks to genetic roulette, they get approached by various Indigenous peoples asking what nation they’re from, because they look really Indigenous.
I’m mixed Mohawk/Mi’kmaq/white. Thanks to genetic roulette, nobody can tell where I’m from and I’ve gotten everything from West Asian, North Indian, and Great Lakes Native (basically, anywhere that golden-tanned skin + dark hair + no monolid is considered normative, I could pass for there)
My mom, meanwhile, looks very, very Mexican, despite being the same mixes as me at a higher percentage Native; she tans more pink/red and tans darker than I do. She also has a totally different face shape than I do. 
Aka, there are dozens upon dozens of groups that look interchangeable, and the only thing that separates us is our culture.
When you’re dealing with more “obvious” features like type 4 hair, monolids, very dark skin, very pale skin, and those stereotypical things, yeah, you can usually peg down a general region. You’re basically only going to have Black people with kinky, delicate hair (but, are they African, Australian Indigenous, or Black Native? Because Australian Aboriginals are also very dark skinned and have a similar hair texture; Black Natives sometimes inherit the level 4 hair texture). You’re basically only going to have Northern settled peoples with white skin (barring albinism/vitiligo) but are they Norwegian or Sami? 
What happens to all the people who are ambiguous in real life?
The trope has a basis in reality. Humans would like to think that a certain set of features = obviously from this place, but as soon as you expand your sample size beyond models, movie stars, and idealized art, you find that people look really different and you absolutely cannot rely on this logic. 
It’s even a known fact among the modelling industry that anyone vaguely not-white who looks like they could maybe belong to any other group of brown people is put in for casting calls for that group, even if they’re not part of that group. It’s messed up, but it happens all the time. A Latine person could be put in as Arab, and an Ojibwe person can be put in as Filipino.
Culture is the thing that separates these people in real life. So as soon as you take that culture away, you’ve essentially lost any representation you could get. You’ll get diversity, yes, but it will not be representation.
Sure, you perhaps gain some representation as people look at parts of their culture that might be incorporated (maybe by accident, maybe on purpose) and say “hey, that’s us!”
But you’ve also strewn infighting by having perhaps multiple groups be able to say the same thing, and these multiple groups could very well share a lot of phenotypic traits, so suddenly you’ve represented nobody because you haven’t put anything solid that would sway the needle one way or the other.
If you start to assume too much that features = obviously this person is from x part of the world, then you really ignore a whole lot of human migration, diffusion, and people who just lived in really similar biomes so their physical features, skin tone, and hair type ended up being the same just purely because that had the best chance of surviving the region, or had no reason to change.
Diversity exists because of the environment. Skin tone, hair type, jaw shape, etc exist because of the food available, how it was grown/gathered (horticulture and “hunter-gathering” vs agriculture), the way food was eaten, the amount of sunlight, and the vitamins available in diet. This happened over tens of thousands of years.
But also, certain environments produced very similar coping strategies. There are only so many ways to survive a very hot desert, so unless you’ve really messed with the natural world in fantasy, you’re going to end up pulling from earth’s coping strategies for the very hot desert. Which means you could end up being kinda hurtful towards desert peoples who see their clothing and food growing ways used, with people who look like them because skin tone is environmental, but hardly anything else about their culture was taken.
Especially for Indigenous peoples, culture and land protection is what makes us Indigenous. How are you going to show us in your work unless you dig into our cultural principles (land protection) at the very least? Nothing about our facial features or skin tone are particularly unique to us, and assuming they are is how you get caricatures. There are Black Natives* to white Natives to mixed cultures with European and Indigenous practices (Metis) and everything in between. And that’s just North America’s range.
This isn’t even counting how there are Indigenous people everywhere, so when you say “Indigenous” do you mean the Mohawk? The San? Mbororo? Ainu? Sami? Samoan? There are literally thousands of groups that are primarily separated from the dominant group because of their way of life and maybe some subtle phenotyping. But primarily, they are separated by their culture.
I would suggest, at the very least, to have some degree of basic cultural beliefs to help differentiate groups of brown people who would otherwise be interchangeable. Land stewardship and using every part of the natural world for Indigenous groups, for example. You can’t really find Indigenous groups without that, so if it was missing I would raise an eyebrow. 
Distinct foodstuffs and diets are another way to differentiate and code; you know that this group that uses chickpeas, sorghum, barley, and wheat is probably from West Asia, and that group that eats rice at every meal is probably somewhere from East Asia. Food is a very fast way to differentiate between groups, because even far-reaching staples are fairly different across cultures.
You don’t have to 1 to 1 code a culture. But for actually differentiating between people, you’re going to need more than one point of reference beyond looks. Food, nomad status (as in, settled vs nomadic vs hybrid), basic religious practices (monotheist vs pantheist), and broad-reaching cultural attitudes (collectivism vs individualism, who you’re expected to be collectivist with) are all points that help break apart these groups and let them know you see them.
It’s important to note that even if you do fantasy, it’s read in the real world. It’s read by humans, who are pattern recognizing machines. We will see patterns. Niki points out ways to try and avoid this patterning below, but it’s going to happen regardless. 
It’s up to you what you actually want, out of not overtly coding anyone.
~ Mod Lesya
*Black Natives and cultural practice is a fraught topic (mostly because of slave-owning tribes) that is mostly summed up as: Black Natives are often barred from tribal participation because anti-Blackness is rife within North American Indigenous communities, but they have been tending the land just as much as if not more than their former enslavers; as such, they are members of the cultures/nations and should be recognized. They have been part of the land as North American Indigenous peoples for centuries, at this point, and the fact there is still enough anti-Blackness in Native communities that Reservation Dogs used nothing but Black caricature is… a problem to say the least.
This isn’t counting mixed Black/Natives who had their Native parent/grandparent cast out for marrying someone Black, who were raised in cultural practices without community ties because of anti-Blackness, who should also be recognized. If it’s valid to mix white culture with North American practices, it’s valid to mix Black culture (Black American and/or African Indigenous) with North American practices.
Do you want diversity or do you want representation?
Lesya raises a very important point that I encourage you to really think about. Why do you want to have diversity in your fantasy worldbuilding? Is it because you want your readers to feel seen and represented? Or is it because you want your fantasy world to feel well-rounded and realistic? These are two different motivations, which will require different approaches.
If you want representation, then go back and reread Lesya’s answer. Representation that’s only skin-deep isn’t really representation, and won’t help your readers feel seen. If, however, you want diversity for diversity’s sake--because diversity is realistic, and because it’s simply good writing to include it--then I have some more thoughts to offer.
In my opinion, there’s nothing wrong with creating a fantasy world that has fictional diversity that doesn’t directly parallel real-life groups and cultures, as long as you’re aware that that’s what you’re doing. This is arguably very common in high fantasy, though the effectiveness with which it’s executed varies wildly from author to author. N. K. Jemisin describes what she did for the Broken Earth trilogy in this blog post.
Unless you’re working with a very small subsection of the world (and even then--everything’s connected), diversity is natural, because people will be living in different geographical areas that each have their own climate, fauna and flora, which will shape both their physical appearance and their way of life. Thinking about the physical environment is a good starting point for figuring out what your population groups will look like and how they’ll behave.
But as Lesya pointed out, it’s very easy, when doing this, to inadvertently re-create elements of coding that will remind your readers of real-world groups, even if that wasn’t your intent. If that happens, you’ll have two options:
1) Very deliberately alter the coding to make it clear that you’re not trying to represent a certain real-world group (in the post I linked above, Jemisin talks about what she did to avoid appropriating Maori culture), or
2) Embrace it and go the representation route after all, which will entail a lot of research and care to make sure your coding makes sense, is respectful, and doesn’t reinforce harmful stereotypes.
Assuming you’re going with option 1, there are still more issues to be mindful of. We said before that representation that doesn’t include culture isn’t really representation. Here’s the thing: This is also true of fictional diversity. Even if your fantasy cultures are entirely created from scratch, they still need to exist, and be distinct and thoughtfully portrayed, in order for your world to feel well-rounded and realistic.
Diversity is more than physical appearance
As Lesya demonstrated, physical appearance alone isn’t enough to make groups of people distinct from another. In order to avoid the “ambiguous brown” trope you’re worried about, you will need to give your different groups of people distinct cultures.
There might be some cases where it would make sense for an entire fantasy world to have a single, homogenous culture, within which people of various ethnic backgrounds exist, resulting in a variety of physical appearances but everyone sharing the same culture. But if you’re planning to do this, you need to give a lot of thought to why things came to be this way. If an entire world is made up of a single culture, that usually indicates something very traumatic happened on a large scale. Maybe an apocalypse, or massive amounts of forced assimiliation or genocide. I don’t recommend going that route unless you’re willing to grapple with all the trauma that entails, and all the potentially problematic implications. You’re much better off populating your world with a diversity of cultures. They don’t need to be coded based on real-world cultures, but they need to exist.
In my opinion, the main issue with “ambiguous brown” characters is that it makes it seem we’re all interchangeable. In real life, we're not. Make sure that's the case in your fantasy world, too. Craft your population groups so they're distinct, each with their own history, culture, language, and traditions. Your worldbuilding needs to be deep enough to counteract the absence of parallels to real-life cultures. We need to be able to look at it and say, "okay, this is not representing me specifically, but it's also not lumping me in with everyone else that vaguely looks like me."
And don't make the mistake of thinking one skin tone = one group. That's not true in real life, and it shouldn't be in fantasy either. Using skin color and a handful of stereotypical features as shorthand for ethnicity or culture is not only shallow worldbuilding, it also feeds into the racist pseudoscience that sorts people into four or five neat color-coded boxes and collapses the world's diversity into a handful of supposedly biologically determined races. If you're creating cultures from scratch, this is your chance to challenge those ideas and populate your cultures with people who don't all look the same. Within a single group, you can have characters with a variety of skin tones, hair texture, eye color, height and build, etc. Because this is what happens in the real world. Some groups include a lot more diversity than others, but variation exists everywhere.
This will partly depend on how interconnected your world is, and how much interaction exists between your various groups. More interaction and exchange tends to lead to a wider range of physical characteristics within each group, and it also results in similar features being found in multiple groups. Think about how that might play out in your fantasy world, and make sure you're being as specific as possible with your fictional cultures so that you don't have to rely on physical appearance alone to distinguish your population groups from one another.
- Mod Niki
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theshelbyclan · a year ago
Love Language
Summary: Tommy doesn’t say ‘I love you’.
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(Gif by @nofckingfighting​)
A/N: Sweet anon asked: Hello i love you're writing! Can i request a tommy one shot imagine where the reader (his girlfriend or wife) finds out in his office, one of the locked drawers has everytning shes ever given to him? Maybe like love letters or random flowers everything he keep 😍🤍 thank you so mych. This request was so amazing to me, because you it made me feel like you understand this character so well? Either way, it made me think, and this is the result. It’s kinda different but I hope you like it! Words: 1448
“Tommy?” “Hmm,” the preoccupied reply came. You sounded defeated, against your best efforts, “I love you.”  “I know.” 
There’s blood on his shirt. It’s the first thing you noticed when he walked in. Not the mud, not his eyes, not his energy, just the blood on his shirt.
“Who’s is it,” you asked as casually as you could. Tommy lit a cigarette in reply. “Are you okay?” “Yes,” he drew out the ‘s’ like he usually did when annoyed or tired. “Who was it?” you continued. “Y/N,” he held up a hand, “not tonight, eh? Not with the hundred fucking questions tonight, alright?” You remained silent for as long as you could bear, “Just need to know you’re safe.” “You knew who you married,” a low voice replied. “I did.” Tommy stood up again slowly started to walk away.
“Do not,” you hissed, “walk away from me.” “Y/N, what the fuck do you want from me, eh?” he raised his voice, “This is me. This is who I am. And I’m doing it all to give you everything you want. To keep you safe. Alright?” You leaned forward and tried to lock eyes with him, “What I want, Thomas Shelby, is you. In one piece, preferably.” “I know,” he lowered his voice again, “And I understand.” He waved a hand like he was about to say more, but didn’t. “It’s because I love you,” you emphasized. He nodded slowly, “And that’s why I’m doing all of this.”
You were sitting at your desk writing. Some people seemed to think that being married to Tommy Shelby was a fulltime job and it could be if you’d let it, but not for you. Even before Tommy you’d been a writer, a journalist and an author of short stories. Neatly you typed them out and send them to the publishers in question. It was the one thing in life that always offered you solace.
“You spelled ‘enthusiastic’ wrong,” you husband commented helpfully after having popped up suddenly behind you. You ripped the page irritably, “Says the man who never even went to school.” “Life taught me how to spell, Y/N,” he sort of joked. “Life taught youhow to spell ‘enthusiastic’? Can’t remember the last time you were ever enthusiastic about anything…” He raised one eyebrow slowly, “How about ‘sarcasm’, can you spell that? Or ‘devil’, how about that, eh?” You pouted theatrically, “Sometimes I’m not even sure you take me and my work seriously…” “Oh, I take it seriously,” Tommy took a drag from his cigarette, “I know it’s enough to keep my wife away from me.” You smiled back at him when he did, but still a pang of hurt went through you: you’d give up everything just to have him say ‘I’m so proud of you sweetheart’. Just once.
“Come on,” he whispered. You looked up. “Come on,” he repeated, cigarette hanging from his lips, “let’s go upstairs.” “Why?” you asked, as you already started to follow him. Once inside the bedroom, he started undressing you with surprising tenderness. “Tommy,” you breathed, “look at me. What is it you want?” As a reply without words he gazed at your body, like he was drinking in very detail and getting drunk at the mere sight of it. “You and me, Tommy,” you said in between kisses, “remember it’s you and me. Fuck the rest of them. Fuck your family. Fuck the whole world. I love you and you love me. It’s you and me and nothing can ever come between us, right?” As he took off his own shirt, he gently pushed you down onto the bed.
“You and me, right Tommy?” you repeated, a little breathless as his head disappeared between your legs. “No,” he finally spoke, “you.”
*** Thomas Shelby had a long day of dealing with renegade family and dangerous enemies, so when he got back home, all he wanted was his wife and some peace and quiet.
“I cooked,” you said as you lingered against the doorpost. Tommy looked tired, worn-out, dead almost, with his head in his hands, “even told the cook to take the evening off,” you commented while your voice sounded flat. It was funny, because your emotions were all over the place, but your exterior just didn’t show any of it.
He slowly lifted his head, “You did, eh?” “Thought you might like it…” you fidgeted in spite of yourself. “I pay that cook for her to actually fucking cook,” he grumbled. “Fine,” you snapped, “I’ll feed it to the dog,” and you started to walk away. “Wait…” “What?” You didn’t even really turn around. Tommy sighed again and for a moment it was like he noticed the disappointment in your eyes, “What did you cook?” “Mint leaves. Your favourite.” And then a minor miracle took place and Tommy Shelby actually smiled a little.
“You were late today. I waited.” “I’m sorry.” “Are you?” “I am.” “Do you love me?” “Yes.” “Tell me.” “I do. Every day.” “Not with words…” “No, not with words.” “Tommy, tell me again.” ***
You were still half-asleep in Tommy’s arms. His eyes were closed and his breath was steady. Outside, the sun wasn’t up yet, but it wouldn’t take long now.
Next to you, there was a gun on the table. Tommy had just taught you how to shoot. He’d shown you over and over again, even though you’d protested. But he said you might need it one day. On the other side there were his cigarettes and whiskey. His medicine. His comfort. His eyes were closed and his breath was steady. But for how long? How long would it be until he’d die by his own gun, or get killed in some fight? Or met some other girl, prettier and smarter than you? As if he could read your insecurities, he shifted in his sleep and hugged you even closer to him. Thomas Shelby might not be perfect or a gentleman or eloquent when it came to expressing his love, but he did hold you at night.
“Tommy?” you shouted out through the house, “THOMAS!” “Fucking hell, woman,” his head appeared around the corner, “What is it?” Slightly embarrassed by your own volume, you said, “I can’t find the scissors.” “They’re in my desk somewhere,” he put on his cap and added, “I need to see a man about a horse. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” You made your way to the desk that was always so tidy and neat. So you did as any sensible woman would do and turned over everything in search of a pair of scissors. Nothing. Angrily you threw down a pile of papers. And that’s when you noticed it. One drawer hadn’t been opened at all. When you tried it, you found it locked. But you were a girl from Small Heath and no locked drawer could stop you. In less than twenty seconds you had managed to force the lock en slid the secret hiding place open. Inside there were more papers, neatly stacked and tied together with pieces of string in different piles. Breathlessly you took them from the drawer and examined them one by one. “Still looking for those scissors, eh?” a low voice grumbled in your ear and you practically jumped from fear. “For fuck’s sake, Thomas,” you mumbled as you tried to hide the papers you’d just found. Tommy was eyeing them already, but didn’t say a word.
So you went back through them, “These are the letters I wrote to you, when you were in France. I thought you threw away everything. Your medals, everything…” He didn’t reply. Tears sprang into your eyes as you examined the second pile, “And these are all my short stories. Did you cut them from the papers? Did you really keep them all?” You quickly went through them and they were all there, from the very first one ever published, “And these, my articles…”
Tommy cleared his throat once and cast his eyes down when you looked at him. Lastly there was a small box. When you opened it, you found, “The rose I wore, when we were kids. The one my brother stole…” And now you couldn’t find the words, “I hardly… I didn’t even know you… back then. Why?” Tommy grabbed his case and started searching for a cigarette. “Tommy,” you insisted, “I had no idea. Why did you keep all of these?” “It’s obvious, isn’t it?” he smirked lightly. You stared at the content of the secret drawer and decided that nothing was ever obvious when it came to Thomas Shelby. “Well?” you questioned. “I love you.”
*** Masterlist
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luna-writes-stuff · 2 months ago
The Crows in relationships, but as Taylor Swift songs:
Includes Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan van Eck, Nina Zenik, Matthias Helvar
Perfectly readable for non-Swifties <3
Fanfic headcanons, with short blurbs.
X gn! Reader
Kaz Brekker: Don’t Blame Me
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As expected, Kaz might be the least likely (next to Inej) to engage in a romantic relationship, and all with good reason, of course. Would he fall, he’d know it, and he’d try to hide it. But it’s the little things he does that make it obvious how he cares for you. He isn’t one good with words, so his actions try to make up for it. And it’s not that he desperately wants to show you he cares, it just happens. For example, early mornings you wake up with your cup of tea or coffee next to you, still hot, indicating he had just entered. When leaving the Slat, he always hands you your coat. He saves you a seat during dinner or breakfast. Little things that really stand out.
“For you, I would cross the line. I would, waste my time. I would, lose my mind.”
Even when officially together, he doesn’t prance around announcing it to everyone. He wouldn’t even tell the crows. Jesper found out because he was pestering Kaz about you, to which he casually responded with “But we’re dating.” Yet, besides Jesper, everyone just figured it out on their own. Kaz doesn’t like to make a big deal out of it, but literally everyone else does. It is not that he wishes to keep your relationship a secret, he just doesn’t see why it should be world news.
“Echoes, of your name inside my mind. Halo, hiding my obsession. I once was poison ivy, but now I’m your daisy.”
Be that as it may, it doesn’t mean Kaz is very condescending towards your relationship. He appreciates it more than he lets on, but he doesn’t want to alter his entire “bastard of the barrel” reputation. Little does he know that you only amplify the tales. Though you might not be as intimidating as him, people know who you are, and start to hesitate their actions on you as well. At times, you can be very grateful for this. Especially in Ketterdam.
You run through his mind almost constantly. He manages to not show it, but every time, when planning a heist, the first role he has thought out is yours. He trusts you and isn’t overly protective, but he does hesitate on your choices sometimes. He can’t help it, though he knows only you can set boundaries for yourself.
“If you walk away, I’d beg you on my knees to stay.”
As stated, he might not show it, but he has no intention of letting you go any time soon. He keeps you close to him constantly and likes these little reminders that you are still there. Hell, whole of Ketterdam should be frightened the day something happens to you. No one, and I mean no one, would be save. He’d tear the entire city down just to get back to you.
Inej Ghafa: Afterglow
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Now, Inej is the kind of person who’d be interested in a relationship, but can’t bring herself to actually enter one, due to obvious reasons. She needs time and patience. Perhaps more than Kaz. With her, everything is build on trust and time. She decides when she wants things to happen and when she wants to be alone. And she can be very clear on that, sometimes rather rudely when everything just piles up. You know it’s not your fault, and you assure her that you’ll give her some time and that you don’t blame her, but she often feels guilty for this.
“Fighting with a true love, is boxing with no gloves. Chemistry ‘til it blows up, ‘til there’s no us.”
Arguments don’t really happen between the two of you. More of the “I need you to give me some space now” moments. And true, it isn’t always pleasant, but it is something to keep in mind. But when coming back around, she is the sweetest person. Though you told her many times she does not need to apologize for looking after herself, she will. With tea, flowers, hell; she even bought you a book once just to say sorry.
“Hey, it’s all me in my head. I’m the one who burned us down, but it’s not what I meant. Sorry that I hurt you, I don’t wanna do this to you. I don’t wanna lose this with you.”
She does not really cuddle, but she isn’t distant either. What often happens, is that you are reading on your bed, and she’ll rest her back against yours. Or she’ll place her head on your shoulder and read with you. On rare occasions, her head will be placed in your lap while smiling up at you. When walking, she’ll reach for your hand at times, as a reminder that you’re still there. She’ll hold your hand when the streets turn darker, or when the crowds grow. She is just very cautious and on edge constantly, but you manage to soothe her a great deal.
“Tell me that you’re still mine. Tell me that we’ll be just fine. Even when I lose my mind.”
She needs little words of affirmation. As stated, she might lash out at times, and she feels guilty for that. You only have to remind her that is it okay for her to set her own boundaries. That a relationship works both ways, and not just in favor of one person. It’s these little affirmations that help her get through tough days.
Vice versa, she praises you as well. Where her actions are often hesitant, her words are not. When she cannot express her gratitude or happiness towards you, she’ll say it as it is. No beating around the bush, no lousy conversations. A room can be silent and she’ll suddenly say that you look beautiful today. Nina always reacts very dramatic when she is in the room as well, much to the annoyance of Inej.
Jesper Fahey: Paper Rings
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How could this not have been the song for your relationship with Jesper? This boy is over the moon when he is around you. What started out with little flirtations and teasing remarks was quick to grow out into something else. When the both of you met, he used to joke with you the entire time, and a lot of compliments of which you weren’t sure whether they were meant as jokes or not. And surprisingly, that is how he ultimately got with you.
“The wine is cold, like the shoulder that I gave you in the street. Cat and mouse for a month of two or three. Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe.”
Jesper’s love language, besides physical affection, is gifts. He loves to give them more than to receive them. But, true to form, as a crow, he loves shiny things. So you often give him extra rings, bracelets, anything that shines, or sparkles, or looks pretty. And he always tries to beat you with it. It is a competition to him. You give him a new ring? Amazing, but now he’ll have to buy you two or he won’t be able to properly express just how much he loves you. But his money falls through his pockets constantly. This man cannot save money to spare his life. He really tries to buy you things. Genuinely, with money. But he spends it on gambling just as quickly.
So yes, some of the things in your room are stolen.
“I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings. Uh-huh, that’s right, darling. You’re the one I want.”
But, as I said, another main love language is physical touch. With Jesper, you just cannot escape it. If it makes you feel uncomfortable, he tends to forget it at first. And he does really apologize for it and tries to remember your boundaries, but sometimes he just gets so excited or enthusiastic, he can’t help himself. He’ll engage in sudden hugs, lifting you off of your feet, or smothering your face in kisses. Kisses on your hands, top of your head, back of your shoulder, kisses everywhere.
“Kiss you once, ‘cause I know you had a long night. Kiss you twice, ‘cause it’s gonna be alright. Three times, ‘cause you’ve waited your whole life.”
Jesper turns into a hopeless romantic around you, really. He’ll do very cliche stuff, such as offering you his jacket when you get cold, kissing you whenever it rains, feeding you, drinking from the same glass with two straws etc. The sappy actions often disgust Kaz, but that’s part of the reason Jesper keeps doing it. Would you ask him, he’d see the rest of his life by your side. He is the kind of person to just abandon all sanity and possessions just to be with you, hence the “I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings.”
Wylan Van Eck: I Know Places
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A relationship with Wylan can be both endearing and adorable, but depending on how long you’ve known him, it changes. Having had grown up with him, he finds himself extremely comforted by your mere presence. Whenever life would get a little hard on him again, or his father decided to have had enough of him for the day, he always ran to you, a safe space to just let everything out.
“Something happens when everybody finds out. See the vultures circling dark clouds. Love’s a fragile little flame, it can burn out.”
Have you met him with the Dregs, this might have been a different experience. Though he does not necessarily hide he is the son of Jan van Eck, it is obvious he does not like to discuss the whole thing. But with patience, and encouraging words, he slowly opens up, talking about his struggle with reading and writing, which he later grows more confident in telling. Knowing about his dyslexia, you spent a lot of night with him, reading a book with him, though more often you read to him. But he enjoys it either way. It’s how he still gets to know a lot of different stories, and it is great quality time in his eyes.
“I know places we won’t be found. And they’ll be chasing their tales trying to track us down, ‘cause I know places we can hide.”
The two of you have a lot of time together, and if not, you will create it. There are many places you discovered together, where the crowds aren’t overly present, and words don’t reach. Going back there just to get that moment of peace calms him down a lot. Especially if he is there with you. A lot of places are surrounded by beautiful scenery, so he often takes a sketch book with him, forgetting all other surroundings. He prefers to have you there with him as he does it. Not so much to talk or to not feel lonely, but because he truly feels safe and loved around you, and if he could help it, he’d rather have that with him at all times.
“They are the hunters, we are the foxes. And we run. Just grab my hand and don’t ever drop it, my love.”
If not obvious yet, his biggest love language is quality time. He does not have to actively engage in something, or talk to anyone for that matter. Just sitting in a corner with you is enough for him.
Another love language, which is perhaps a more specific one, is sharing his works with you. He likes to have you take a lot at what he’s doing, or what he has made, before he goes prancing around and showing it to others. Art, regardless in what form, is very fragile, and could easily break the spirit of an artist’s heart when fallen in the wrong hands or eyes. Having him show his work to you, means a lot to both you and him. The two of you are very much aware how much it means to the other.
Nina Zenik: New Year’s Day
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Where to even start with this song? Nina is the kind of person you can party with, have a lot of fun with, but she is also there through the tougher times. Everything you go through, you never have to go through alone. She insists on staying with you and offering you a safe embrace or encouraging words. She’ll help you with everything she can, even as you tell her it isn’t necessary. She finds it very important.
“Don’t read the last page. But I stay, when you’re lost and I’m scared, and you’re turning away. I want your midnights. But I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day.”
Nina’s main love languages are words of affection and physical affection, though the first on is more obvious. She is very vocal on her love for you, and doesn’t hold it back in front of anyone. She doesn’t really care. But she’ll respect your opinions about the whole ordeal. If you wished to keep the relationship more private and closed off, she’ll try to keep her mouth shut more often. But she’s just very happy when she is around you, and it causes her to run her mouth a bit too much at times. But it’s all very sweet, and meant in the best ways possible.
“I’ll be there if you’re the toast of the town, babe. Or if you strike out and you’re crawling home.”
Regardless of the constant attention and love she gives you, she tends to get insecure, but keep it to herself. She doesn’t often doubt her relationship with you, but when times get tough for her, she tends to shut herself out, and you - of course - want her to stay with you. To help her out as she always helped you out. But Nina has trouble discussing these issues, so she’ll sit in her room in fear, rather than discuss her problems. All she really needs is a little patience and understanding.
“Please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I can recognize anywhere.”
Then we move to physical affection; Nina is not afraid to smooch you in front of everyone. Both her and Jesper could not really care about it. She loves to show you off in any way she can, and sometimes words just don’t suffice. That’s what she tells you, at least.
Every time she walks past you, she’ll kiss your cheek. Every time you’re walking past her, she’ll stand up and wrap her arms around you in an enthusiastic hug. Hands are always held in front of others, or arms intertwined. Naturally, she has a calming effect on you, and vice versa. She keeps telling you she doesn’t use her powers on you to call you down, but she does. You know this, obviously. But you appreciate the gesture, so you simply pretend as if you believe her.
Matthias Helvar: Willow
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Matthias is more of a doubting lover, though very loyal. He has other customs than most - obviously - so conversations or actions might often be weird to him. But he adjusts easily, and just goes with you. But regardless of what you will do, he will follow you and support you through it, even as he has no idea why you do certain things. He is very encouraging and wants you to feel happy and fulfilled 24/7, and if it means stepping out of his comfort zone, he will.
“The more that you say, the less I know. Wherever you stray, I’ll follow. I’m begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans.”
A relationship with Matthias contains lots of stories. And I mean lots of them. Not only things he has seen, or things you have done, but also tales and lores. Hell, you even make your own stories and keep expanding them. Late nights are always spent talking over a warm cup of tea, that slowly turns cold.
Though he might not always show it, he loves to have you around him. Stubborn talks and useless fights be damned, he will not leave your side for longer than a day. He doesn’t want to stay away for too long, in case something happens. And with everything going on in Ketterdam and Fjerda, you can never be too safe.
“As if you were a mythical thing. Like you were a trophy or a champion ring. There was one price I’d cheat to win.”
He is great in acts of service. Yet, unlike Kaz, his gestures get noticed more easily. He will do the things you promised to get on later, or he will protect your name when you aren’t around. It’s very noticeable, but endearing. He truly does care about you, and though he doesn’t shout it from the streets, he does like for others to know. Of course, would you be a Grisha, it might have been a bumpy ride at first, but his pride in having you at his side doesn’t fade.
“Wait for the signal and I’ll meet you after dark. Show me the places where the others gave you scars.”
As said, he is very supportive and will help you achieve your goals. He is very much aware that a lot of your goals must be accomplished by you, and cannot easily be helped with, but he will cheer you on regardless. He wishes to simply be with you when you finally reach that point you had wanted to reach. Seeing your smile and happiness that comes with it? He will not want to miss that for the world.
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shotorozu · a year ago
encountering a ‘pick me’ girl
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character(s) : kirishima eijirou, todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki (bnha)
warning : PICK ME GIRL, misogyny (?) pick me girl makes an off handed comment about your body but it’s not detailed at all
legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, but they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned
headcanon type : fluff, angst if you squint
note(s) : i made 2 versions of this post so,, if you’re reading this— then i probably decided that i liked this one more than the other one i made,, anyways, i used real life examples 💀
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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kirishima eijirou
i’d imagine that eijirou would have an idea of what a pick me girl is— i mean, there were probably 2 of those girls in middle school
but has he experienced it first hand? nahh.
though, eijirou didn’t think he’d encounter one when he was already in a healthy and committed relationship!
eijirou is practically friends with everyone— and yeah, even the most unexpected. so, he’s bound to accidentally befriend a pick me girl
him, being the nicest one out of all of the characters in this list, will still be nice to said pick me girl, despite wanting to snob them to the core
because really— you can’t really fight fire with fire in some cases
but, he can be everything but lenient when the pick me girl starts insulting you for doing certain things, and for absurd reasons too
like,, how you laugh, and how you take care of yourself (for example— if you wear makeup, or how you style your hair)
which is odd! everything about you is everything but the things the pick me girl has stated so.. he cannot stand by.
the girl giggles to herself after that snide comment leaves her lip gloss coated lips. eijirou shifts uncomfortably— honestly taken aback by the anything but subtle insult that was thrown at you
“like.. seriously! it’s honestly quite superficial if you look at it like that. who the hell would put that much effort infront of your boyfriend? i’d assume they’d see everything AND everything but.. i guess not.”
you blink. superficial? now that’s a new one. the girl infront of you has been babbling insults sugarcoated in boasts the entire time, and you’re just wondering if it’s about time you guys leave but—
“well that’s unfair,” your boyfriend laughs, “i put the same amount of effort as this cutie right here,” eijirou pokes at your cheek, earning a quick laugh from you— which he can only thank the heavens for that
“but that’s different. it actually looks put together when you’re doing it, eiji.” the certain glint in her smile makes you want to wipe it right off with a dirty mop, “it’s impossible to look put together with expensive clothes, but being built like a—”
the sound of the sliding of a chair is quicker than your actions, and it easily cuts her off.
“i’m sorry, but we gotta go, it’s totally not cool of you to say those things about Y/N!”
“what? but i mean.. it’s true, right? i’m looking out for them! they’re literally out here l—”
“bye!” eijirou waves her goodbye with your hand, dismissing the sour expression on her face— as he dashes off with you
you’d question how he’s just so nice to people like that, but when he turns around, you could see the distaste in his eyes
“so that’s what a pick me girl’s like,” shaking his head, his expression lights up with such a quick manner “i’ll never make friends that are like that again!”
safe to say, eijirou’s friend list has been a a person shorter ever since that incident
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bakugou katsuki
oh, so that girl’s bold bold.
if she thinks she could get away with being a not so subtle pick me girl infront of bakugou katsuki, then she couldn’t be more wrong.
it’s absolutely revolting— i mean, he hasn’t displayed any romantic feelings towards ANYONE that isn’t you.
also, they’re quite gutsy if you ask me. so congrats for having guts??
i don’t think he’d be friends with a pick me girl. he’s very selective of who he’s befriending, so it’s probably your friend that’s the pick me girl in this case
he wouldn’t know what a pick me girl would be, but he’d probably know the description of one.
over some time, he’d grow some resistance to insults directed at him, but when someone insults his s/o
oh boy. that’s not good. remember when i said that katsuki was almost like your scary and intimidating dog
this is what i mean
knows he can’t make a scene, so his first option is to be dismissive asf— but if said pick me girl literally can’t get it, he won’t be afraid of shoving some explosions into her face
because his hands are rated e for everyone
“so you wanna be picked or something, is that it?” he hates how you literally have the resistance of a rock— which is something he always liked, but in this case hated. if it weren’t for you— he would’ve blasted explosions into her sorry excuse of a face until it’s beyond recognition (that wouldn’t be hero like, is what you’ve said in the past, but he disagrees.)
but seriously? ugh. he just wants to leave this horrid place, and make some dinner with you in the comfort of his home. why are you even friends with her anyway? she’s not even trying to be slick at this point.
“p-picked? i’m not understanding, katsu.”
“it’s bakugou.”
“right,” her laughter is like nails on chalkboard, “i’m just watching out for Y/N, y’know? there’s no point in wearing all of that.. on their face.” and she’s obviously referring to your obviously very well done makeup
“it’ll make your skin terrible in the long run! and really— i couldn’t really understand on why someone would wear that much, when you could survive with i dunno.. lip gloss at most?”
you would’ve actually said something as a rebuttal, but your boyfriend is quicker, and a lot more direct than anyone else in the area.
“just say you can’t do makeup and fucking scram,” katsuki’s ice cold glare finally breaks out of the act he’s been trying to hold together for you
“their makeup is fucking bomb as hell, compared to your ridiculous spider lashes, lady. come back when you’ve watched james charles’ entire fucking channel.” he harshly states in similar bakugou fashion, despite the lack of screaming.
and if you squinted hard enough, you could see tears welling up in her eyes. but katsuki tugs your hand before anything else could be said
“let’s fucking go, you need better friends.”
he makes you cut ties with all of them, and he practically scolds your terrible choice of friends— but he goes quiet when you tell him that you’ve been friends with her since middle school
“good fucking riddance. next time, i’ll punch them as soon as they say something outta line, got that?” and next time (hopefully, there won’t be a next time) you’ll actually lash out— or maybe,, you’ll let him loose for once.
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todoroki shouto
now shouto might be,, socially unaware sometimes. but he can tell whenever someone’s trying to insult his s/o
like,, right away.
now— you both run into this person after a pleasant date, and she eagerly presented herself as your friend
so, her attitude catches him off guard because who’d have anything rude to say about you and towards shouto’s face? especially when it’s about something normal.
like,, wasn’t she your friend?? why is she even like this?
his hostility is very well known, so they should be scared.
he gets detached from the conversation, and he’ll immediately go cold— and shouto would probably go as far as walking away with your hand in his
doesn’t matter if he properly says goodbye or not— if a girl’s being rude to his s/o, they obviously don’t deserve his usually polite attitude. nope, that’s a luxury.
oh— and what more when they’re seeking for his validation. newsflash! said pick me girl won’t be get any from him.
shouto couldn’t stop the bitterness bleeding into his mouth, when the girl in front of him continued to babble and take up the valuable time he had left with his s/o
initially, she presented herself as your friend from middle school— but as of now? she seems to be more interested in him more than you, despite knowing you first.
she’d ask him a string of obvious questions with very obvious answers, like ‘is she treating you well?’ ‘is she acting correctly?’ and questions of the sort
“oh, sorry! i’d hate to cut this conversation short, but—” you finally decide that it was about time to leave, while shouto looks pretty,, deadpanned right now, you could tell that he was gradually starting to get irritated by your friend’s words.
“wait. thats.. kind of controlling, don’t you think? do you ever let shou make decisions?”
“uh.. controlling? since when??” you question at the accusation. this girl knows nothing about your relationship dynamic, and she’s already jumping the gun and making conclusions.
your gaze snaps back to shouto, who looks just as surprised as he could possibly be.
“yeah! it clearly looks like he still wants to talk” which is an obvious lie, shouto just wants it out of here “i wonder how you managed to snag such a guy like him,” she comments with a smile that looked anything above suspicion (yet, it makes your stomach churn)
you could see the way her hand gets gradually closer to him— and frankly, you’re not sure about what she was planning to do next, “you wouldn’t need to dress all expensive and fancy, if you’re with a girl with an already classy appear—”
“i think this conversation is over,” shouto grip is firm on the wrist that was attempting to grab his shoulder, shouto makes no attempt to even look at the girl infront of him “i don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it’s not humorous. at all.”
“what?” she stammers, drawing her hand back “i-it’s obvious they don’t know how to take a joke! this is why there are barely any good w—”
shouto’s next actions knocks her speechless, his hand rests at the small of your back, before gently guiding you forward— “love, what movie are we watching later?” he says, making an effort to press a quick, yet intense kiss on your lips
“oh,” you breathe out, surprised by this action. “don’t be so tense, love.” shouto comments on how tense your shoulders have looked, ever since she started running her mouth, “now.. what movie do you want to watch tonight? comedy? thriller?”
“you pick,” you laugh at the quick shift of topic. and when you look behind you, you could see shame and defeat welling up on her face. shouto finally feels like he could smile again, the bitterness dissipating from his mouth
after shouto questions you if that was what a pick me girl was, he makes sure that you guys won’t ever encounter such thing again
“you.. don’t have more friends like that, right? if you do— we could always do another friend list cleansing.” this statement makes you laugh but shouto is anything but joking
but being reminded of his reaction to that ‘pick me’ girl does puts a smile on your face.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!
i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby
do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission
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definitelynotahutaosimp · 2 months ago
hi!! could i request rosaria, lumine and mona with an often very tired s/o who can sleep at anywhere at anytime and they often nap on them? i hope this request make sense and have a nice day! love your writing btw
Them with a reader that can fall asleep anywhere at anytime
characters: Mona / Rosaria / Lumine x gn!reader (seperate)
warnings: none
a/n: Sorry it took me a bit (two. months.) to write this, I honestly forgot about it for a while.
I haven't written for these 3 in a long time, so if one of them is ooc, I'm very sorry.
Anyway, hope you enjoy!
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To say that you falling asleep in the middle of her astrology lessons was something that annoyed her would be a bit of an understatement. Sure, she knew not to hold it against you since you fell asleep constantly and always seemed to actually be really excited about them while you were awake but having to constantly fear that the person you had been talking to for the past few minutes had been passed out the entire time, wasn’t something Mona did feel all too thrilled about.
Mona and you had been laying on the hill outside of Mondstadt for quite a while now, with her pointing at different stars and telling you everything astrology related that came to her mind, but when her finger pointed at the star shining brightest, a stupid one-liner shot through her head, causing her to finally get silent. Normally you were the one saying stupid, flattering things all the time. Now that she thought about it, your urge to flatter her was almost as big as your urge to fall asleep at every somewhat appropriate moment, so your prolonged silence was evidence enough that you had probably fallen asleep once again, giving her the courage to say her stupid thought out loud without having to worry about your teasing.
“And this star shines as bright as my love for you”, the words hadn’t even left her mouth fully and she already found herself cringing at them, regretting ever having said them in the first place, making her sit up and try to think of something else to distract her from it. “Eugh, I can’t believe I just said that”, she said to herself, only to startle when she heard your voice.
“Why? I think it was kind of cute”, you said before also sitting up, causing the astrologer to stare at you with pure shock on her face.
“SHUT UP! Weren’t you asleep?”, she shouted, her face now completely red, making her try to hide behind her hat, only for you to laugh for a brief second, shutting up when she glared at you.
“What? Does me being silent automatically mean I fell asleep?”, you asked, your goofy smile not leaving your face for a moment, infuriating her even more.
“Usually”, she responded before hiding behind her hat again, only to hear you yawn and stand up.
“Hmm, you’re probably right, but your astrology lesson was too interesting to fall asleep”, you blatantly lied, things being interesting never stopped you from just falling asleep, nothing did. “But how about we head home? I might actually fall asleep here if we don’t”, you asked, the fact that you were still smiling being obvious by your tone alone.
“This never happened”, she stated while still pouting, only to quickly get up and walk home in front of you, earning no response besides a sarcastically agreeing hum from you.
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With that sister from the church of Favonius running after her whenever she refused to participate at a voluntary church activity, Rosaria had enough problems with people disturbing her job. But luckily for her, your constant tiredness was as useful for her as it was worrying. You of course were curious as to what she was doing when she sneaked off somewhere and would question her about it. Most of the time she would either change subject or give you an answer that left more questions than it solved, but sometimes, when she was feeling nice and had a good day, you would actually get more telling responses.
Even though her reluctance to give you any satisfying answers to your questions made it clear enough that Rosaria wasn’t all too excited about the idea of you actually knowing what she was doing when she sneaked off in the middle of the night, curiosity still got the better of you and caused you to silently follow her each time, only for you to get so tired that simply leaning against a wall for a couple of seconds was enough for you to fall asleep.
You were following her again, the sound of an extra pair of feet was enough to make that obvious for Rosaria. No matter how sneaky you thought you were, she would notice your presence almost immediately. It wasn’t really your fault, but she wouldn’t have survived as long as she did if merely trying to walk silently was enough to go unnoticed for her.
For a brief second, she could feel herself getting annoyed by your insistence on finding out where she was heading, only for her to start her usual routine again. Walking in circles around your home until you inevitably fell asleep, then dragging your sleeping form back home always made her job much more time consuming, but if it meant that you wouldn’t fall unconscious in the middle of nowhere, then it was something she was willing to spend a bit of time on.
When the footsteps finally stopped, Rosaria continued her act for a few more seconds, only to then turn around and scoop your sleeping body up, quickly walking you back home, while letting out one sigh after another, trying her best to feel annoyed at you, something that proved much harder when your started snuggling against her. But once she finally reached home, she quickly tucks in into bed before vanishing once again, already catching herself thinking about what she was going to say about the “weird dream” you had, that you were inevitably going to tell her about tomorrow.
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Lumine’s travel group seemed to get weirder and weirder with every person joining it. First there was her, a traveller from a different world, a flying fairy that seemed to have a bottomless pit as a stomach and you, whose excitement about following her on her travels was only topped by your desire to take a nap whenever you got the chance to.
It didn’t matter when or where, once you decided to make camp for the day there were only 2 things that were guaranteed: Paimon impatiently helping to prepare something to eat and you falling asleep on whatever spot seemed most comfortable. It got to a point where both Lumine and her flying companion decided to bring a pillow with them whenever they went, only for you to rarely use it, instead resting your head on her shoulder.
It had been quite a while since Lumine had sent you to gather wood for the fire now, and while she had already finished building the tents, you were noticeably still absent. So, when she and Paimon decided to look for you, having a bit of a suspicion as to why you failed to come back, but being slightly worried nonetheless, they quickly spotted you sitting against a tree, with your arms still holding on to a lot of sticks and small pieces of wood. Paimon had already made her way up to you and was about to wake you up, when Lumine held her back, causing the fairy like companion to look at her with a look of confusion.
“We should wake them up, Paimon wants to eat, and we need to start the fire in order to make the food”, she stated in her high-pitched voice, causing your sleeping form to shift around a little, making the Traveller place her hand over Paimon’s mouth before starting to look around in her bag, pulling out the camera she got in Inazuma. Without wasting anymore time, Lumine quickly shot a picture of you before inspecting it with a small smile and putting it and the camera back into her bag.
“You are right, let’s wake them up now.”
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radiant-reid · a year ago
Touched starved
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It was no secret this case had been extra hard on Spencer. Even Y/n, the newest member of the team, knew some bad things happened when he was kidnapped by Tobias Hankel. Most of the details were covered up though.
Spencer didn’t talk about it much. Only a few words when he felt strong enough. With having only been at the BAU for two years Y/n knew the least of what happened. 
Then again, she was a profiler. She could tell this case was having a more-than-usual bad effect on Spencer. 
It was because of the parallels, she figured. This unsub had been kidnapping and torturing victims. Having to solve it and, more importantly, knowing there was someone out there just like him, was hard on Spencer. 
His brain almost didn’t work as it ran constant flashbacks of what Hankel did to him. Like a horror movie with no ending. 
Everyone noticed, not just Y/n.
She just didn’t understand why they wouldn’t help him. They were all far closer to him than Y/n was. Prentiss, Morgan and JJ didn’t seem to be doing anything to help him but Y/n just felt like she couldn’t let him suffer in silence. She knew Garcia had tried to ask him how he was on the phone but there was only so much she could do from so far away. It wasn’t any of the team's fault though, they knew how Spencer operated.
That was how she found herself outside his hotel room on the 3rd night of the case. After seeing his condition slowly deteriorate throughout the hours they’d been on the case, she couldn’t just sit by. So dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, she knocked on his door. 
“Y/n... what are you doing here?” Spencer asked as he opened the door to see who it was. It was very obvious that in the 4 hours since Hotch had sent them to get some rest, Spencer had not slept a second. 
“I...” Y/n didn’t actually know how to answer his question. Instead, she just walked into his hotel room which caused him a lot of confusion. The puzzled look on his face didn’t stop. “I’m here for you, Spence.” She told him as she sat on his bed. 
“Obviously, you’re in my room but I don’t understand why.” He replied. His brows were furrowed and his arms crossed across his chest. At least he’d changed into a hoodie and pants. Y/n didn’t think she’d ever seen him in a hoodie. 
“Come here.” She instructed and he obliged, walking over to her so he was at the foot of the bed. “I’m here so you can have someone to talk to. Or not to talk to.” She explained. He still, very obviously, didn’t understand. “You haven’t stopped working on this case for almost 72 hours straight, that’s unhealthy. Now, you’re going to relax and just stop thinking about it.” 
Spencer huffed out a sigh. “I can’t just stop thinking about it.”
“There’s someone out there who can’t stop thinking about it. He’s scared, terrified. And he’s just hoping that we can save him. But everything is telling him that there’s no one left. That they’re going to get there and be left with just his body.” Spencer hunched over as he talked, feeling as small as he looked. Tears were forming in his eyes and he was desperately fighting them. “I can’t stop working on this because we need to find out where he is. I can’t stop working on this because he can’t stop thinking about it. He’s living through the torture but he’s going to give up and want to give in to death.”
“What happened, Spencer?” Y/n softly asked as the tears started spilling down his cheeks. 
He just stood there blankly. “I can’t.” He sobbed out. 
Y/n knew about his aversion to hugs but she pulled him in for one, wrapping her arms around his slender waist. To her surprise, he leant into the embrace. 
They stayed like that for a while before she pulled back, picking up his hand. She moved back so she was sitting against the headboard and pulled Spencer over, patting her lap. He didn’t even give a second thought to lay his head on her lap. His brain could almost stop spinning as he laid there. 
Y/n moved her hand to his hair, threading it through her fingers. It was remarkably soft and fluffy. 
“What happened to you, Spence?” She asked him again. 
With tears still streaming out his eyes he could answer. “It hurt so much, Y/n. He wouldn’t stop it, no matter how much I begged. I was so helpless there.” He choked out, in a broken sentence due to his heavy breathing. 
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m right here.” Y/n comforted again. She tested out the boundaries by running her hand over his cheek and when he leant into her hand she continued to brush the tears off his cheek. “Let it all out.”
“I couldn’t do anything!” Spencer cried. It was the most painful sound she’d ever heard. Someone so composed and always perfect falling apart. He was broken. “I just sat there while he beat me. I can still feel it. When I close my eyes sometimes I see him. It’s so stupid because I know, scientifically, I’m experiencing PTSD but sometimes I feel all the walls coming down on me.”
Y/n’s heart broke for him. “Spencer, it’s not stupid.” He cried even harder at that. 
“I just need to crack the case and save him, Y/n. I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t.”
Y/n moved her hand to rub his back. “I know you feel that way.” She didn’t really know what to say to comfort him. He was so often the one helping everyone else out. 
“I feel so silly for still being scared too.” He mentioned. 
“Oh, Spence, it’s okay. Hankel is dead and you’re safe now.” She soothed him, still rubbing circles in his back.
He was still bawling his eyes out, feeling unbearable sadness. “I know that. But I still see him and I can still remember every second of it.”
“You didn’t deserve any of that.” She told him firmly. “He was sick, I know you know that. You went through the worst things imaginable and you’re so strong.”
He lightly nodded. “Will it get better?”
“Yes, if you keep talking about it. To anyone. JJ?” Y/n suggested. 
“I like talking to you.” He mentioned it, quieter than before. Y/n could finally smile at that. Despite everything, Spencer was still so kind. 
“Good.” She told him as she moved her hand back to his hair. “I could see it was getting to you. With all the similarities in him drugging and abusing his victims. I can’t imagine what you went through but I’m so proud of you.” She continued, meaning every word she told him. 
The tears had stopped coming so fast now. They were still constant but a weaker flow. “I just felt so helpless when I was there.”
Y/n almost chuckled at that. “Spencer, from what I’ve heard you were the one who told the team how to find you. I think you were so brave and I know they’re all so proud of you.” She told him. 
“Thank you.” He murmured as he moved his head in her lap. She continued to comb through his hair. 
They stayed in the exact position for a while. Until, eventually, the tears stopped. 
Spencer then sat up. His cheeks were flushed red as he made eye contact with Y/n. “I’m sorry I completely freaked out.” He nervously rambled out an apology. 
Y/n couldn’t have shaken her head faster. “Spencer Reid, you don’t have to be sorry for anything. Everyone needs someone to talk to.”
“I’ve got to save him, Y/n,” Spencer told her as he moved to get up off the bed, no doubt to go to his makeshift workspace. 
Instead, Y/n tugged on his arm, not letting him move. “I know you’ve got to, Spence. But you can’t do that if you haven’t slept or relaxed in days.” She informed him. He was smart enough, and he had read at least 300 articles on the importance of sleep, to not argue with her. 
“Okay, I’ll sleep. Thanks for coming to see me.” He told her, trying to get her out of the room. 
Y/n noticed. “I don’t think so. You’re stuck with me for the night, buddy.” She told him as she pattered her lap again. 
He looked like he was thinking about putting his head on it but he stopped. “Then you won’t sleep.” He realised.
“Okay then,” Y/n said as she pulled the covers of his bed up and got in. “I hope you’re okay with cuddling.” She was a little worried he wouldn’t be into it, just because of his germaphobic nature. But her worries subsided when he got in next to her and quickly put his head on her chest, 
Y/n moved so she was lying flat on her back with her head on a pillow. Spencer put his own head on her chest and wrapped his arms around her waist like a baby koala would its mother. 
She moved her arm so she could wrap it around Spencer’s torso and pull him closed but he stopped her. “Can you, uh... could you do it to my, um, hair?” He nervously asked. 
Happy to oblige, Y/n moved her hand to his hair and started to run her fingers through it. “If you just want to lie here it’s fine but we can talk too.” She offered him, still unsure of what he needed. Spencer was so used to closing up that he decided to go against what his brain was telling him. 
“My parents,’ He started, “When I was little we didn’t really do touching... no one’s ever hugged me like this.” The thought of a little kid Spencer not getting hugged broke Y/n’s heart again. 
“Is this okay?” She asked, cautious of where his boundaries might lie. 
“Yes.” He hurriedly answered, not wanting her to stop for a second. “I like it. I just didn’t get hugs as a kid from anyone. And as I grew up I learnt more about germs and figured that’s why my parents repealed me.” He spoke slowly and softly like he was half asleep. Maybe he was. “But I like this. It makes me feel better.” He figured. 
“That’s good.” Y/n hummed. “I’m always here for you if you want to talk or just cuddle.” She told him. 
The smile she could feel against her chest warmed her heart. “I’d like that and please don’t stop stroking my hair.” 
She smiled at that. “I won’t.” She meant it as she leant down to place a kiss on his forehead.
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yandere-sins · a year ago
[Yandere] How the Mondstadt men mark you as ‘theirs’
I like it when everyone has very specific, characteristic ways of treating their darling, and Genshin gave me the right characters for it, tehe (;
»»———————— ♡ ————————««     
Diluc makes you wear him. 
Put on his cologne on you, belts, jewelry--everything that would make anyone else go, "It's Diluc's." He gives you a coat so no one can look at your body inappropriately, makes you wear gloves, so you don't touch anyone or anything else aside from him with those precious fingers of yours. Diluc has you cling to his side, so you never stray away or lead someone on to approach you, and makes you look at him on command when he's nice enough to take you out because your eyes should only be reserved for him or the steps you're taking on the ground. And if anyone ends up coming too close to his liking, or even worse: touches you besides your obvious dedication to Diluc, he'll drag you home and strip your clothes off before burning them, not taking you out again until he has a replacement for them. Now he only makes sure to examine every spot that someone else dared to touch, so you forget how it feels when there is anything else but Diluc on you.
Kaeya imprints on you.
His fingers in the forms of bruises around your wrists and throat, hickies all over your body, and teeth marks where he expects no one but him to ever see you. Even if you cover up with long sleeves and high collars, there will always be slips that will make whoever you are talking to raise an eyebrow. And you will be too uncomfortable to explain these visible signs, or you might have to tell someone else all the things Kaeya did to you. It’s also a plus point that these marks need renewing, so there is never enough intimacy in Kaeya’s opinion. He’ll always find another spot on your body that needs a new mark of his, and he gets to enjoy your whines and moans as he sucks and nibbles on your body. It proves to be effective: Whenever you are out, he likes to kiss the marks around your neck and collarbones, showing them to everyone willing to look at you two lovebirds making out, grinning as he makes eye contact with the envier. No one would steal a man’s lover when the man is literally all over them, right?
Venti gives you an appearance in every song he writes.
His songs are wildly popular, and while it appears cute at first that the most popular bard in Mondstadt seems to have fallen in love, he’s not afraid of making vaguely uncomfortable songs about you as well. No one really minds them, especially not after a few drinks. Still, sometimes he brings out new lyrics about how much he loves whisking you away on top of a tree and making you stay there with him since you can’t get down from it alone. Or he sings of the nights he spends by your side just watching over you, wondering if you are dreaming about him. He always performs where you are as well, winking and letting the other people make connections of what kind of relationship you two are having. People shrug it off as yet another bard in love. Still, no one ever forgets his songs, and you learn quickly that no one wants to get into Venti’s way of pursuing love since he is quite so dedicated. Even if he never took your freedom, this is just another way he fully implemented himself in your life, and at least you are unnerved by hearing what he did when you fell asleep last night.
Albedo brings you down to his level.
Even if he struggles with his social skills, he’ll do his best to understand your needs until he believes he is the only one that can be with you. To perfect this task, there’s no way around making you act as his guinea pig since you are essential to the success. He tries everything to make you see him as the only one, too, from conducting harmful experiments and hurting you to good ones where he makes you view him in a positive way. You two are so occupied in his experiments - you less willing than he is - that you barely notice how much you distance yourself from society. Albedo takes up all your attention and time. Soon, you find yourself just as reclusive as he is, and you’d struggle if he ever let you out of his research facility after years of only being with him. There is only you for him, and Albedo for you. Occasionally, Sucrose brings food or supplies, but she could never get into this experiment - or for that reason, between Albedo and you - fearing what you two are up to while she isn’t looking. Albedo is marking you simply by making you focus on him (and only him), and when the time is ripe, he’ll apply his knowledge on you to make you even more like him, starting by giving you the same golden mark on your throat as he has.
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shadamyheadcanons · 8 days ago
Headcanon #282
Amy was sitting on the couch next to Shadow in Team Dark’s apartment one night. She saw him check the time out of the corner of her eye. Then, he stood up.
“I’m going to bed. I need to get up early tomorrow.”
“Aww.” Amy pouted, then hopped to her feet and held her arms open. “Goodnight hug?”
Shadow grunted and nodded. He wrapped one arm around her waist to hold her close. Amy barely had time to return the comfortable embrace before he pulled back. “Night,” he muttered, glancing at Amy, Rouge, and Omega in turn before turning on his heel to head up the stairs. Amy frowned after him, feeling conflicted.
“Something wrong, hun?” Rouge asked once Shadow was out of earshot.
Amy sat back down and twiddled her fingers shyly. “It’s nothing, just...sometimes I wonder if Shadow doesn’t like me.”
Rouge just stared at her for a long while. Then, she exchanged a glance with Omega...and broke out into a fit of cackles. Omega joined in with his own monotone laughter.
Amy turned red and puffed out her cheeks. “What are you laughing at?”
Rouge let out an involuntary snort and reined in her laughs as best she could. “Amy, Shadow adores you! Why in the world would you think otherwise?”
“Wha...?” Amy’s nose wrinkled. “But he never looks happy. I can’t remember the last time I saw him smile.”
Rouge wagged her finger. “That’s not how Shadow operates. You have to look harder than that. Right, Omega?”
Amy stared in confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?” She examined the recliner where Omega sat. “And I’ve never seen Shadow sit there. He always sits on the couch.”
“Really? I’ve never seen him do that.”
Rouge scoffed and nodded. “He looks like a grumpy pretzel when he does it. It’s kind of a relief to have you here because it’s the only time he actually sits up straight.”
Amy grinned a little at the mental image, then thought back to when she’d first entered the room that day. Shadow had been sitting alone on the couch with a pile of books and papers next to him, but he’d immediately moved them aside when he saw her so she could sit down beside him. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it, either. She hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now, her eyes widened slightly. “Are you saying he gives that up so he can sit next to me?”
“Yup. That guy loves spending time with you,” Rouge replied with a sly smile. “When I told him I was inviting you over tonight, his ears perked up, too. They only do that when he’s really excited about something.”
Amy’s heart fluttered. “Really?!”
Rouge snorted. “Mhm. You both have some pretty obvious tells once you know where to look.” She peeked past Amy and nodded to her tail with a smirk.
Amy looked over her shoulder, only to grin sheepishly when she noticed her tail was wagging. “That obvious, huh?”
Amy giggled at Omega’s blunt response. “So you guys think I might have a shot?”
Rouge held a finger up to her lips. “If you need more proof, just listen.” She glanced meaningfully upward.
Amy frowned for a moment, but then she heard it. Shadow’s low voice just barely made itself heard past the running water of the shower in the form of a distant, muffled melody. Even through the walls, it still held an appealing, calming tone.
Amy’s eyes bugged out. “Shadow sings in the shower?!” she hissed under her breath.
Rouge was peering wistfully up at the ceiling. “I wish he did it more often. He’s got a hell of a voice.” Her expression turned mischievous once more as she fixed her gaze back on Amy. “But he only does it if he’s been spending time with someone really special,” she explained with a wink.
Amy blushed, then smiled. “Thanks, you two.”
Rouge nodded. “Shadow’s not a smiley kind of guy, but just because he’s not smiling doesn’t mean he’s not happy. Keep an eye on him, and you’ll see what I mean.”
Amy followed Rouge’s advice, embarking on a mission to figure out every little telltale sign that something was making Shadow happy. That mission lasted for the rest of her life, and she relished the challenge.
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vancityfire13 · a year ago
Sweet Dreams
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count: 4.6K
A/N: This is the pregnant!Nat story that absolutely no-one asked me to write. It focuses on how she sleeps across the 9 months and does include some sexy stuff.
Tagging: @midnight-lestrange @natasha-danvers @reminiscingtonight @blackxwidowsxwife​
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Before pregnancy, Natasha slept like someone had programmed her. You’d never asked her about it because you suspected someone had. She’d lie on her back, close her eyes and wake up in the same position 6 hours later. 
The first week after you found out Natasha was pregnant was the best week of your life so far. You floated through each day and nothing could bring you down. The news stayed between the two of you, and you enjoyed having your perfect secret. You watched Natasha revel in the reality that it had worked, her body had worked. 
You caught the way she would touch her flat stomach gently in the morning, glancing at her reflection in the mirror as if she couldn’t quite believe what the pregnancy test or the doctor had confirmed. 
The other Avengers must have thought you were especially lovesick. You’d catch her arm sometimes and she’d turn around, folding herself into your embrace without hesitation. 
Everything was gentle between you. Hope clearly felt dangerous to Natasha and so you held onto the excitement of her pregnancy carefully, knowing her hesitations came from years of life experience. Every day you watched the fear settle and the hope strengthen until soon there was the beginning of anticipation.
The other reason it was the best week of your life was the immediacy of Natasha’s first pregnancy symptom. Her breasts swelled impossibly quickly, shifting bra sizes within the week. You traced along her curves, already marvelling at how they’d become even rounder. There was a new tenderness to the attraction you felt. Knowing it was another sign, another promise from her body that it was working and miracles were happening.
Still, the first time you touched her nipples with your tongue, the moan she made was ungodly.
The second time, her head had lifted to face the sky. When the noise from her lips became closer to a grunt, you’d moved to kneel between her legs. You’d continued to tease her hardening nipples with the pads of your thumbs as you kissed her still flat stomach reverently. 
Finally, you’d worshipped the clit that was already more sensitive to your tongue.
Unfortunately, the second week was the opposite of the first. Now, Natasha did not linger in awe at the mirror each morning. Natasha did not melt into your hugs, she slipped out of them. The rejections were quiet and subtle enough that maybe on another week you wouldn’t have noticed at all. But you’d already started to move in orbit of her, and the change felt disconcerting.
You tried to keep holding the hope carefully for the both of you. You didn’t know how to approach her about the change. Natasha was most closed off at night, coming to bed already prepared to sleep. Her eyes shuttered purposefully closed whenever you lay down next to her. You held her hand as she slept, but that was as far as you dared.
You made the most of the touches that she seemed to want. You kissed her forehead now when you caught her for a moment. Your hands touched her shoulders often, trying to reassure her of your maintained distance and also brace her against whatever fear or worry might have changed her attitude so abruptly.
You didn’t touch her stomach. You didn’t know the exact boundaries of touch, only feeling certain that they existed. 
One night though, when Natasha rolled over and her top rode up to her ribs, you found your eyes clinging to the exposed area. You decided it had rounded slightly already and the pang of longing that you felt was unspeakable. All you could do was brush the hair from her face lightly and try to hold your love in check.
It lasted until the Friday night when Natasha called you from the bathroom. You’d entered quickly and automatically, the door swinging abruptly open. 
You’d frozen in the doorway. Natasha was putting on a bra and your eyes took her in hungrily, unable to help the instinct. It was definitely a new one, light grey and cotton. You savoured the sight of her even though it only increased the pang of longing.
‘Hello.’ You said with a suggestive smile, knowing she’d couldn’t have missed your ogling. You caught her eye in the mirror and noted immediately the look of apprehension and discomfort. 
‘Are you okay?’ You asked, feeling conscious of the embarrassment in her eyes. 
‘There’s a label on the back of the bra.’ She told you succinctly. ‘I didn’t want to have to take it off and on.’
‘Oh sure’ You said, reaching for the nail scissors.
You stood close behind her as you cut out the label. You kissed her exposed neck once you were done. She didn’t shy away from the touch and you grew more cautiously confident.
‘Are they getting too heavy in the night?’ You asked, referring to the soft bra for sleeping. You tried to relieve the tension in the room that you couldn’t quite identify.
‘You know I’m happy to hold them for you whenever you like, if you need the support.’ You offered with a grin. Your arms snaked around her lightly, intending to spoon her where you stood. 
You saw Natasha’s expression of dislike in the mirror before you felt her hands peel your arms away.
Your heart sank. You rallied yourself, trusting in the steadiness of the love that had always held true in your relationship.
‘What am I doing wrong, love?’ You murmured, trying to brush off the rejection.
Natasha looked uncertain and undecided in what she wanted to tell you. You’d been together long enough to know she couldn’t help it. Trust was always going to be a dangerous choice for her, you were just lucky that she was brave.
‘They hurt.’ She said finally, after a long pause.
You thought for a second and then your eyes widened as it clicked.
‘Oh.’ You realised. ‘You mean your -’ 
Natasha’s jaw clenched as she nodded. 
‘I know that you want to touch them.’ She said carefully and somehow it was more intimate when you met her eyes reflected in the mirror. 
‘Do Russians drink vodka?’ You murmured the words into her skin, acknowledging that she had stated the obvious and trying to relieve the tension. You directed your soft smile to the mirror, though your lips still brushed her shoulder. 
‘Of course I want to touch, but looking at you in this bra is still enough of a treat.’
Your hands moved carefully to her bare stomach, resting there gently as you assessed her expression. Natasha looked more than comfortable, leaning into your hold.
‘Anyway.’ You told her, head resting on her shoulder. ‘It’s all worth it.’
Natasha looked at your hands on her stomach and smiled.
There was always something very controlled about the way Natasha slept. You knew she had nightmares sometimes, but from the way she slept you’d never have guessed. 
The only times she’d ever gotten up in the night was for an unexpected mission. So when she slid into a sitting position at 4 in the morning, that’s exactly what you assumed in your half consciousness. You’d moved one hand automatically to her thigh and tried to wake up enough to speak.
‘Shield?’ You’d asked with sleepy confusion.
Natasha’s hand gripped your arm. For the first time ever, you felt her intentionally convey her anxiety. Her nails dug into your forearm.
Now you were plenty awake. You turned to face her, sleep immediately forgotten as you assessed her pale face.
‘I’m going to die in childbirth.’ Natasha told you bluntly. The calmness and certainty of her prediction was unnerving.
You tried to find words. 
‘That’s -.’
 You tried again. 
‘You can’t possibly know that.’
You scrambled to sit up in the bed.
‘I had a dream.’ Natasha said seriously. ‘It was so real. I’ve never had a dream so real before.’
Then she looked over at you and you saw the tears already in her eyes.
‘You’d take care of them, right? You have to promise that.’ Natasha’s voice broke and the way she searched your face for confirmation made your heart ache.
‘Easiest promise I’ve ever had to make.’ You assured her. You moved your arm and pulled her into a side hug.
‘It’s just a dream.’ You kissed her hair and she closed her eyes.
‘I’m not going to let anything happen to you.’ You promised, knowing that your reassurance was only strong enough to last the night.
It took a week for you to realise that the bad dreams had persisted. In the early hours of the morning, you’d felt a prickling need to wake up. You’d opened your eyes slowly and shifted in surprise when you saw Natasha staring right back at you, head propped on a pillow, tears falling silently. 
Her eyes were wide with the realisation that you were awake. Then her lip trembled and you knew that the sadness had built itself too high now for her to come down easily. You moved forward and kissed her with urgency, trying to let her know that you’d be here, that you’d always be here.
After that, you’d made some changes. Natasha told you that she was dreaming every night, things so real she wasn’t always sure if they’d actually happened.
Now in the mornings, you insisted on lying together, listening while Natasha would tell you whatever she’d dreamt about the night before. At first it’d been awful. With coaxing she’d told you the exact details of the most heartbreaking scenarios.
The upside had only come when the dreams changed in tone, if not realism. You started to love spending a morning drawing circles on her bump as she told you strange stories about lying on beaches together or watching a little child ride a bike for the first time.
Sleep became all the more precious in the second trimester. This was because Natasha was now increasingly exhausted. She started to nap in the middle of the day. Finding her asleep on the sofa was a sight that you never got over, having grown so accustomed to her regimented sleep habits.
You always agreed to watch movies with her, understanding it as a code to signal she wanted an excuse for a midday nap. You insisted on giving her the full run of the sofa, knowing she’d want to stretch out and sleep before the movie was through. 
You’d sit on the floor in front of her and, sometimes, Natasha would plait your hair absentmindedly. No matter how sleepy she got, she always finished the braid first. You loved the little ways Natasha found to tell you that she loved you.
You pitied her in the evenings. You could see the weariness that was new to her grow when the day wore on. It hit a peak on the nights that you invited company round to your house. Though socialising with the other Avengers was the most familiar of social activities, you still felt the pressure to entertain and knew that Natasha did too.
You were in the kitchen, trying to figure out if someone had stolen all the snacks or if you’d just run out faster than usual.
Natasha walked in from the room that contained your guests. The sound of her feet padding across the floor made you aware of her presence.
The way Natasha walked right up to you and put her head on your chest told you exactly how tired she was. You bit your lip, knowing that acknowledging it out loud wouldn’t help. Instead, you wrapped your arms around her, and let her sink even more heavily against you. 
You hummed, as you decided that you’d both had enough for the night.
‘Go sit down on the bed.’ You told her determinedly. ‘I’m kicking everyone out.’
‘(Y/N)’ Natasha cautioned you immediately. But there was something about the soft surprise in her eyes at your declaration that made you even more determined.
‘Bed.’ You repeated, as you turned and left the room. 
All of the team took the dismissal with relatively good grace. The only jokes made were about you being whipped. You’d started to hear those comments with fondness, Tony and Clint wouldn’t be themselves if they stopped teasing you.
Back in the bedroom, Natasha was sitting on the edge of the bed looking a little annoyed.
You held up your hand  to pause her before she spoke. The incredulity in her expression was enough to remind you why you’d never made that gesture before.
‘Don’t ever try and convince me that you should be uncomfortable in your own house.’ You told her with finality, lowering your hand back to your side.
You watched Natasha process your words. Her expression shifted, and you saw the nearness of tears that she couldn’t always help anymore. Then you saw a very small smile.
You gave her a bigger one back.
‘I’m going to run you a bath.’ You told her gently. The smile stayed on her face and grew a little. You realised there was a special shyness to it, which you’d never seen before.
You were exact with the warmth of the bath, aware that it shouldn’t be too hot. Then, you took Natasha’s hand and led her naked through to the full tub. You’d expected her to put one toe in the water and complain about the temperature.
You didn’t expect her to tell you to take your clothes off too.
Natasha’s breasts were less sensitive now. So, when you sat behind her in the bathtub, you cupped them softly. You made sure it was the lightest massage you knew how to give.
Natasha arched her back against you as she stretched out the back pain that the warm water couldn’t quite remove. There was something magic about the extra pressure of both her and her belly as she rested between your outstretched legs.
Her low moans were either from the way you touched her, or from the relief of the bath.
You didn’t care which.
After that, Natasha had a bath every night. And so did you.
Natasha being hot was news to nobody. Unfortunately, her body was taking it too literally now. 
She’d started tossing and turning in her sleep. The physical discomfort had more impact on her sleeping habits than the nightmares ever did. 
After the first time you’d awoken in the night to see her with the duvet kicked off and loose tendrils of hair stuck to her forehead, you’d started readying yourself for the reappearance of the hot flushes. Preparedness had become your new motto.
Now, you slept with only the lightest cover on the bed. You’d resigned yourself easily to feeling cold at night, knowing it was minor compared to growing a whole human. You started leaving extra pillows on her side table too; so she always had cool ones to switch out with. 
The only really difficult part was keeping your distance in the bed. Since the first trimester, Natasha had started to seek you out in the night. At first, it had been a tentative break from her usual stoic sleeping patterns. 
But, as the hormone changes had taken full effect, she’d become increasingly direct with her requests for touch. Often Natasha would scoot intentionally back into you, with the clear hint for you to rub her shoulders.
Now, she grumbled at you frustratedly like you’d purposefully heated yourself to feel like a furnace before joining her in bed. There was a push and pull as she sleepily hunted for your touch and then rejected it when she felt too uncomfortable.
You felt awful for Natsha’s discomfort. But, you loved that she still wanted you as much as she did.
By the time that Natasha started kicking you violently in the night, you had pretty much given up on ever having a good night's sleep during her pregnancy. It was a morose thought, given you hadn’t heard positive things about newborn sleep schedules either.
In the morning, as she sleepily told you about her dream that she’d had twins and forgotten which was which, you waited for the right moment to mention the kicking.
The corners of her lips pulled down immediately into a frown. 
‘I think it must have been cramps.’ Natasha told you, examining your face carefully. You knew she was seeing the sleep deprivation that was clearly written on it.
You nodded, kissing her lightly and ignoring the apology in her eyes. You wished more than anything she could sleep peacefully. 
The next night, you felt her stiffen the second time that her foot collided with your legs. You heard her try to ease herself out of the bed. You watched quietly through half open eyes. You’d never tell her that she was less graceful now, but the movement wasn’t as smooth as it once would have been. 
Natasha’s hand rested on her belly in that way that had become her habit. She walked slowly around the room, treading softly for your benefit. You lay still, hoping she wouldn’t realise you were awake. The grey tones of the dusk light gave her outline the softness of a pencil sketch.
She leaned one hand against the wall and you watched as she dug her nails into her calf muscles, rubbing along both legs in turn. The movement looked difficult for her and you wanted to speak up just so you could help, but the words caught in your mouth. 
There was always something magical about catching Natasha in moments where she was alone with herself. You thought about the early days when you’d catch her examining her bump in the mirror. Now there was something so familiar in the way she tapped her fingers along the top of her belly lightly. Something so intimate in the way she smiled down at it.
Back in the bed and Natasha finally managed to settle. Her legs twitched only a few more times and she seemed to sleep through it.
You spoke to a doctor the next day, calling briefly as you hid out in the corridor. You learned that ‘Restless Leg Syndrome’ was completely normal and even common during pregnancy. You resisted explaining to the doctor how weirdly frustrating that was to hear after seeing Natasha’s discomfort. 
You took his limited suggestions with the determination that you would make them work.
For the first time, when Natasha settled on the sofa ready for an imminent nap, you sat next to her, moving her legs to rest on top of your lap. Natasha looked at you in surprise, but made no comment except a raised eyebrow.
The movie started to play and you began to knead the muscles in her calves, building the pressure slowly like an affectionate cat. You ignored the screen, too focused on the task at hand until you heard Natasha clear her throat.
When you met Natasha’s eyes, she gave you a look like you were an angel walking the Earth. 
Then she closed her eyes and gave a long sigh. You didn’t bother turning off the television and neither of you spoke. You knew Natasha wasn’t quite asleep, but you could tell from her lazy smile just how content she was feeling.
When you’d thoroughly massaged her lower legs, you rested your hands familiarly on top of them, eyes moving for the first time to the screen. Natasha dragged your attention back, lifting one leg awkwardly and bringing her ankle into your field of vision. 
You realised just how swollen Natasha’s feet had become without you hearing a single word of complaint. You fought the instinct to chastise her, more annoyed at yourself for missing the obvious tenderness of them,
As you rubbed her feet, Natasha grabbed a couch cushion and held it to her face, making a noise of relief like a muffled scream. Laughter bubbled out of you. When she brought the pillow down with a look on her face not unlike her post-orgasm one, you laughed even harder.
Natasha grinned back, looking blissed out. She gave you the secret smile that you shared where she pointedly glanced at the bump and then back at you. You’d been exchanging this particular look for 6 months now and it still made you feel completely whole. You smiled knowingly at Natasha and watched her face light up too. 
She couldn’t wait and neither could you.
Natasha’s stomach rounded out impressively and soon she entered her third trimester. The changes seemed relatively small now, continuations of what had presented already.
A slight shortness of breath that you’d noticed before, now developed fully into snoring. You definitely weren’t going to tell Natasha about it. For one thing, there was something surprisingly endearing about the snuffling noises she would fall into as sleep crept over her. You loved listening to them turn into small snores as she fell completely asleep.
Your sex life had continued better than you’d ever expected. Though the sensitivity of her breasts had reduced to a more tolerable level, the sensitivity of her clit had only increased and so had her sex drive. The shortness in her breath made you nervous enough to insist on propping her up on pillows whenever you gave her head. It gave Natasha a regal air, and you liked feeling her eyes on you as she watched you trying to please her.
Your lips would trail across her body, tongue tasting her nipples. You appreciated her breasts all the more with your reclaimed permission to touch them. 
You loved curving yourself over her growing bump to reach her lips with yours. You savoured seeing her smile up at you between the kisses, hair mussed out on the pillows.
Most satisfyingly, Natasha continued to love your affection too. 
That’s why it was such a shock to hear her panting breaths cut out as she repressed a hiccuping sob while you were licking along her cunt. 
You moved up immediately to look at her, kissing her belly tenderly when it filled your view. You let your lips linger on her skin as you looked at her questioningly.
‘I can’t see you anymore.’ Natasha told you, a plaintive note to her tone. You saw her bite down on her lip, fighting a tremble in it that you’d only seen since she’d become pregnant.
‘I’m right here love.’ You told her gently, moving back up her body to kiss her lips and try to take away the tension there.
When you kissed her, you saw the tears on Natasha lashes as she closed her eyes.
‘I like watching you when you’re down there.’ Natasha told you, blinking quickly as she opened them again.
‘But I can’t see you anymore. I’m too big.’ Her eyes closed again as she lost the fight with her tears. Your heart melted for her.
You gave an open mouth kiss to her collarbone. 
‘Natasha.’ You called softly and her eyes found you again. ‘You can still always touch me.’ 
As you settled back to your earlier position, Natasha propped herself higher on the pillows. Her hands moved down to find you and her fingers snaked into your hair. 
‘I’m right here.’ You assured her needlessly. Her grip was light, tensing only as you started to move your tongue against her all over again.
Her legs pressed against your side and you felt the pressure of her need across your whole body. She tasted perfect and familiar.
At your next appointment, the doctor took the time to emphasise the importance of Natasha sleeping on her side at night. You swallowed your dread at the thought of the coming evening. 
Though Natasha always began the night on her side, bump supported now with a pillow, she also always ended up lying on her back.
She moved naturally in her sleep to the position that she’d long been conditioned to prefer. As the doctor outlined the health risks with unnecessary specificity, you felt your heart sink in anticipation of the inevitable.
That night, when Natasha woke up and found herself staring at the ceiling, she looked like she’d been found guilty of murder. You’d barely slept, knowing the anxiety that was coming. 
The fear that she could harm the baby was the one that haunted Natasha most. It was disproportionate, though neither of you said so. It was a consequence of her childhood; Natasha had seen suffering and now she feared inflicting it. 
You held her tight when the realisation of her nighttime failure turned into something hysterical and real sobs rocked through her, uncontrolled. 
It echoed the flash of panic that you had seen in Natasha’s eyes when the doctor had told her she was ‘nearly there now’. 
You knew instinctively what she couldn’t speak aloud. Natasha was too invested now and it would hurt too much for this to not be real. 
Natasha ended up sitting half on your lap as the emotions didn’t subside. Her hand curled in a grip of your t-shirt. Feeling her belly against your stomach made you feel a burning need to protect them both.
You responded to her irrational fears like they were real because you knew somewhere deep down you shared them. You’d always known that you couldn’t lose her. And now there were two parts to her that you couldn’t lose.
Natasha only regained her calm when she had to hurry, as always, for the bathroom. For once you were grateful for the uncomfortable necessity that now happened regularly through the night. 
When Natasha returned, her cheeks were stained with tear tracks but at least her eyes were dry. You moved across the room to meet her. Her arms went around your neck, and your hands touched the belly that kept you apart and brought you closer together than you could have ever imagined.
‘You’re already a good Mom.’ You told her. ‘Good moms worry, but you don’t have to.’
Natasha’s smile was sad.
‘I already love them so much.’ She told you, the hum of anxiety still in her voice.
‘Good.’ You said. ‘You deserve that, and so do they.’
This time, you built a barricade of pillows around Natasha that was so secure she couldn’t roll over onto her back if she tried. 
The worst night that Natasha kept you up started out fairly unassuming.
 You felt the bed lower and rise as she got up and stood at the side of the bed.
You yawned, unable to ignore her movement even when you were so tired.
‘Need to pee?’ You mumbled into your pillow.
There was a pause in which you nearly fell back to sleep.
‘No, the baby’s coming.’ Natasha told you calmly, the words floating through the air like a dream. ‘Go back to sleep.’ 
You’d never stood up faster in your life.
‘We’ve got to go.’ You slurred out, running your hands through your bed hair and looking around for some clue of what to do. Your mind buzzed with pieces of the instructions and tips you’d heard but couldn’t now recall.
‘Hospital.’ You said dumbly in your panic.
Natasha yawned widely, hand moving to cover her mouth automatically.
‘It’s not so bad right now, I don’t think we have to go in yet. Maybe in a few hours.’
You stared at her form as she returned easily to a resting position on the bed. She was remarkably peaceful. Shock turned to awe, and awe filled you with love. You moved silently to sit the hospital bag ready at the door, preparing to google the route to the hospital a dozen or more times as you waited for the small contractions to wake her again.
She was the bravest person you knew. She was going to be the best mom.
More Pregnant!Nat here
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llamagoddessofficial · 7 months ago
Okay I absoulutly love the idea of fnaf sb au u did. But what about. Now here me out.
Security breach au where mc is the security guard.
How will the boys become when the night comes?
Hkjdsf nightguard Mc.. she's, at least, in a better position than her 'normal fnaf' counterpart who is in a much more constant state of terror. This Mc also gets to hang out in a much cooler location. Both are dealing with dangerous haunted robots who are unhealthily attached to them, but only one gets to walk through neon lazer tag courses.
Sans: She likes him! He seems helpful, the best behaved of the animatronics (not a very high bar but she appreciates it anyway). He calls her ‘officer’ by default. She has a few jobs she has to get done during her shift... mainly checks of the area to make sure there are no thieves, but also routine looks at the robots to ensure they’re functioning properly and don’t need any major fixes before the next show. Sans assists her with the checks, walks with her between rotations when he can, often attempting polite conversation and making a few bad jokes she giggles at. 
His politeness comes, frequently, from nervousness. He’s got a huge crush on her. And... unfortunately, he’s not all goodness- she only sees him at his nicest and most presentable, she doesn’t see how he quietly sabotages sections of his area (and sometimes even his own exoskeleton) so she has to spend longer with him. He’s lonely... and he’s more than willing to lie his way into more time with her.
Red: A fucking pain in the ass, that's what Red is to her. One that she can’t help but appreciate, sure, but still a huge pain- management just laughs when she tells them Red flirts with her, ignoring the obvious warning signs that would come with an animatronic developing such a brazen and personal liking to the security guard. He called her random pet names until he heard Sans call her ‘officer’ genuinely, and now whenever he sees her he just coos “officer~” in the most saccharine and flirtatious voice he possibly can, often just causing her to immediately bolt.
Like Sans, he’s also prone to a little sabotage thanks to his deep loneliness... but it’s mainly his exoskeleton, because it forces her to get in close where he can flirt and coo and poke and see her flustered reactions. Their little moments sat together are the closest he gets to meaningful interaction.
Skull: Mc travels mostly via the main pizzeria because she doesn't like going into the utility tunnels. Something feels so... off about them, these forgotten and eerie corridors going far deeper below her feet than she ever wants to think about. The bad feeling gets especially strong when she's been down for a while- she feels like she's being watched. Or followed. Or both. Sometimes, she shines her torchlight down into the darkness and catches rare glimpses of something moving away... and sometimes she isn’t brave enough to look.
Sometimes, she keeps her flashlight off, far too afraid of what she might see.
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merakiui · 10 months ago
What do you think of the idea of a pregnant runaway darling? Darling finds out she's caring her yandere's child and escapes...how do you think yan!xiao childe and venti would react and what would they do?
I think it’s a great idea! Lots of opportunity for tension and anxiety on either side; on one hand the darling is terrified of being found and the yandere is worried she’ll get into trouble and hurt herself and the baby. Allow me to elaborate further!
(cw: yandere, implied forced pregnancy, implied non-con/nsfw, pregnancy, female reader, unhealthy behaviors)
Xiao is so hot and cold. On one hand he’s secretly happy that the two of you will have a child together (it’s another tie you have to him now), but on the other he has no idea what he’s doing. He’s been alone for so long and has never loved anyone to this extent before. He’s never even forced intimacy on anyone before up until now and he always feels so dirty about everything. He knows that he has to protect you and this life he’s so fortunate to have with you, but he also feels so conflicted because he thinks he’s tainted you. It took him a while before he realized that the emotion he was feeling was happiness upon hearing the news that you were pregnant.
For the longest time he hates himself because it’s obvious you’re uncomfortable telling him about it and that he doesn’t know how he should feel. He wasn’t even thinking about having a child with you. Then again, he never took pregnancy into consideration when he forced you to lie with him. He didn’t really understand how that sort of stuff worked anyways and wasn’t planning to understand because why should he? It’s a wonder you’ve managed to escape him when his eyes are always on you. He wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt and trust you after all that he’s done, but that trust has completely shattered now. He’s frustrated and upset for many reasons. It’s because you escaped that he now knows where your feelings lie. It’s because you can’t stand him that you left, isn’t it? It’s because he’s so unbearable that you just had to get away.
He’s learned a little bit about pregnancy from novels and listening in on conversations between the inn guests. Of course, it doesn’t take a genius to realize you’re in a vulnerable state. You can’t exactly fend for yourself while you’re pregnant, especially if you’re already a few months along. And if you want to make sure no harm comes to you or your baby, you won’t pick up a weapon and try to fight. Xiao will look all over Liyue for you and he won’t stop until he finds you. He’s told you before that if you ever need him you just have to call his name and he’ll show up. He wonders if you’ll call for him and he worries that you might stubbornly refuse to do so even if you’re in danger. So in the meantime he absolutely has to find you before that happens.
And when he does drag you back to Wangshu Inn, he’ll refuse to hear any nonsensical excuses. How dare you leave him. How dare you put yourself and your child in danger for wanting something so foolish. But most importantly, how dare you continue to hurt him like this, when he’s tried (and failed) to be good to you.
Childe isn’t surprised that you escaped, but that doesn’t mean he’s not annoyed. He’s tried so many times to get you pregnant and now that it’s finally worked you decide to run off while he’s busy in another nation. Maybe he should’ve done better in keeping you confined in his home. Although he’d be lying if he said he didn’t allow for this to happen. He was curious and wanted to see what you’d do if given the chance to escape. It seems all those things you told him were nothing but filthy lies. Then again, he was expecting this. No one could possibly fall for the man who ruined their life in one night. Only fools are deceived that easily and he is by no means a fool.
Coming home to an empty house wasn’t what he’d hoped to find, but now it’s his reality. As much as Childe wants you back, he also wants to teach you a lesson. He’ll let you have your freedom for now. He’ll let you run as far as you can possibly go, happening upon nice people who offer their help. You’ll steer clear of the Fatui if you know what’s good for you. You’ll avoid crowds because he might be hidden among the sea of faces. You won’t stay in one place for too long because you know he’ll eventually sniff you out. He’s good at that. Always has been. It’s really only a matter of time before he grows tired of waiting and will come to retrieve you.
Childe has his ways. He won’t tell you what these ways are, but you can definitely hazard a guess. When he shows up just as you’re about to be beaten down by a bunch of angry Treasure Hoarders, sending you a sly wink as he takes care of them in a flash, you can only watch in muted horror. He’s been tracking you this whole time. He knew your movements for a while now. He let you sink deeper and deeper into your own fears and anxieties until you found yourself in real danger. And only then did he come to your rescue. You wonder if he’d do that again—if you escaped and he found you, would he save you? Or would he observe from a safe distance while you face the consequences of your actions? As long as you’re carrying his child he’ll protect you. Although you can’t say the same if it was just you.
Childe has told you before that things will only continue to get even more unbearable because you deliberately make your circumstances unbearable. If you’d just stop for a moment and consider things with optimism, you might come to enjoy your new life. He takes such good care of you, too. You ought to thank him for everything he’s done. Childe understands love is difficult and that you’ll be feeling all sorts of emotions and feelings because of your pregnancy, but it’s not like that’s entirely bad. Haven’t you always wanted this sort of life? It’s so incredibly comfortable. Most people would kill to be in your position: with a stable life, a generous and kind lover, and a happy, healthy child. You shouldn’t be so ungrateful.
“Smile a little,” he tells you as he wipes the blood spatter from off of his cheek with the back of his hand. The stench of bloodshed poisons the air; there are corpses piled up behind him. “They say a mother’s sadness infects her baby. You wouldn’t want that now, would you?”
What an ugly grin. You feel sick.
Venti is all about freedom and wanting you to be content with your life, so he’s not exactly sure what you’re escaping from. From him? From this relationship? From your child? Somehow that doesn’t sound right. But your feelings are completely valid. Every mother has gone through similar worries of whether or not they’ll be a good parent. That’s just natural. It doesn’t warrant an escape, though. And if you wanted to get some exercise you could’ve just gone out with him. No need to make such a big deal out of it.
You act like all of this is horrible and that he’s keeping you trapped like this, but wasn’t it you who said you wanted this sort of life? Granted you were obviously intoxicated and so was he, but that’s besides the point. You still told him of your desires and wishes and he fulfilled all of them. And isn’t he just the perfect lover? He listens (sort of), he wants what’s best for you and your family (always), and he wants you to have freedom over your life and actions even when you’re pregnant (very true). He tries to be accommodating to you when you get moody or wake up feeling sick, but it’s gotten harder and harder to help you when you’re always trying to push him away.
When you escape it’s not really an escape. Venti catches up to you rather quickly, and it’s not like you’d get very far. The wind carries on far and wide; he’d find you regardless of where you ran off to. Like a clingy puppy, he’s asking what you’re up to, where you’re going, if he can tag along. Things like that. He’s so exhausting to put up with sometimes. You’ve tried to tell him that you need a break and he understands that pregnancy isn’t always easy. But do you really want to be away from him that badly? He’s deluded himself into thinking this is a result of your pregnancy; you’re just a little more emotional than normal. That’s fine. It’s because you’re pregnant that you feel this way. It’s definitely not because you feel suffocated whenever he’s around.
Venti almost always walks alongside you when you leave him and he’ll blab about anything and everything while you slowly give up. Your escapes never work. You can’t even call them escapes because of how unsuccessful and humiliating they are. It’s even worse if you try to hide yourself in the city somehow, attempting to blend in in places where he’s usually not welcome (usually the tavern since he never manages to pay off his tab). It works a little bit; you’re given peace and you can actually think for once instead of hearing his voice echo endlessly in your head. But then someone ruins it by congratulating you on your pregnancy or asking if you need any help. And then Venti miraculously finds you and you’re back to where you started: unhappy, desperately wanting to escape, and stuck planning for future escapes that will never truly work out.
He tells you that this is freedom—that you’re allowed to go where you please and do whatever you want. But that’s a lie because he’s always there with you as your loving shadow. The truth is that this is just his warped version of freedom. You want to hate him, but you’re too tired to even work against him. Because when you do he’ll always smile and forgive you. Because that’s what a good lover does and he’s always been so benevolent.
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fallinfl0wers · 12 months ago
hellooo! this is the first time i request something from a blog :D could i request headcanons of diluc, scara, kazuha and xiao when their s/o tells them they're pregnant and possibly how they'd get used to having a kid? tyy! dont forget to take breaks and relax!
Literally baby-sized trouble.
summary: you're pregnant! how does he react to the news and how do the get used to your child? includes: diluc (26 bullet points), scaramouche (24 bullet points), kazuha (17 bullet points) and xiao (35 bullet points) warnings: fem!reader, pregnancy, children, non-explicit/non described giving birth, mostly fluff with a little bit of hurt/comfort and angst. format: headcanons thank you for your request!! this was so fun to write! >< imagining the characters being soft with children is just so cute :") i specially like these four a lot >< when i wrote this i was in a xiao mood if it wasn't obvious that his turned out longer than everyone else's lol, and it's also the first time i write for kazuha so it was shorter than the others, but i think his is the sweetest ><! i hope you enjoy it! ps. the names and meanings- i got them from google, feel free to correct me if there's anything wrong with them ><
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He's going to stop functioning the moment he hears the news from you.
Literally, he's still as a rock and completely taken by surprise.
He... can't say he'd never wanted children. He's pretty traditional and, since he has this beautiful relationship with you, he assumed it might happen sometime in the future.
But oops guess it will have to happen in the close future, since you're already pregnant.
After staring at you with widened eyes for a while, he speaks up: "...is... is it true?" You hold his hands on yours with a smile on your face, nodding. "Yes, Diluc. We're going to be parents." Hearing your words, he starts to tear up as he hugs you, his touch almost hesitant, as if you were so fragile he could break you if he wasn't careful. "...thank you." He'd whisper between silent tears, hiding his face from your sight.
Very supportive and very protective!
You will have the most comfortable of pregnancies. He will make sure you don't need to move a single muscle to get anything you want.
If the two of you aren't married or engaged yet, he's going to propose to you very soon, keep that in mind ><
He starts reading every book he can find on pregnancies and babies so that he knows what to do to help you when you give birth and how to take care of his child once they're born ><
You have to convince him that yes, you can go and eat in the dining room and you don't need to eat everything in your room or stay in bed all day and yes, you can still do most things and no, he doesn't have to worry so much.
But yeah, in later stages of your pregnancy he gets more overprotective because he doesn't want anything to hurt you or your baby :(
He couldn't be calm enough while you gave birth and had to wait outside of the room, which only made him more nervous </3
But when he finally held your little baby on his arms for the first time, he broke down crying.
You two had a boy! He looked a lot like him, too... with the red hair and eyes... so cute...
He's not sure of what to name him, he'd thought of some names before, but they all disappeared when he saw the little bundle of joy in his arms;;
So you two will have to think about a name again!
In the end, you settle for Felix; name meaning "happy" or "lucky"!
Diluc is a very busy man, but he still does his best to be there for you and his son as much as possible!
He's also not very sure as to how he should interact with him...
But he does know he LOVES playing with him as soon as he starts to understand how to play with his toys.
But... there are not so cute parts about having a kid, after all.
At times, he worries whether or not he'll be able to be there enough for him.
He wonders if he can be a good father, given how awkward he is with his emotions.
What if when Felix grows up he starts hating him for being absent? He wouldn't be able to stand it.
You always reassure him as you both put the baby to sleep on his crib.
All Diluc wants is for his son to have a happy childhood and a loving family, but worries he won't be good enough of a father.
However, when Felix's first word is "'iluc!" as he stretches out his tiny arms towards him, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can do this right.
He thought you were joking, so he laughed.
When you didn't laugh along with him and was met with your blank face, he understood you were serious.
He never even thought he'd be with anyone in a relationship before you came along, let alone have a child with anyone... So he's obviously very shocked and confused as to how to proceed.
After an awkward moment of staring at each other, he cleared his throat and crossed his arms, looking at you with an equally blank face. "So? What do you want me to do about it?" "H-huh?" "In the sense of- what do you want to do? Keep it or not." You huffed, and when he heard your determinated answer, he sighed and gave your head some soft pats. "Alright, alright, whatever you want, I guess."
Okay listen here- it's not like doesn't care but it isn't like he cares so much either...
This man would do anything for you, really, and that's what happens.
He does anything and everything for you, because he's worried about you and not necessarily about the baby you're carrying.
It's not like he hates children- because you can't hate anything you don't perceive as equal or superior to you and a baby ceirtainly isn't either for him-
It's more like he doesn't know what to do with them because he's never been around children enough to understand them.
He's overall very indifferent towards the child ngl.
Then he sees you cradling your baby -a girl- in your arms and his mind just... goes blank. Huh, so that's what a human looks like right after being born.
Your little daughter looks more like him than she looks like you, sorry. But he can clearly see on her face some factions that will look like yours as she grows up.
"Now what?"
He'll help you look after her however he can, since he doesn't want you to be too tired because he never knows when he'll have to leave for weeks or even months without notice.
He's not entirely cold or indifferent towards her, even if sometimes he might resent her a bit for taking away some of your attention.
But like when you were choosing a name for her, he gave a few suggestions and in the end you choose one of the names he thought of!
Her name is Hikari, name meaning "light"!
Due to the nature of his job, he doesn't want to be seen around either of you at the moment in public. It would only put a target on your backs.
And it takes a long, long while for him to warm up to her.
It disheartens you a little, but when you see him looking down at Hikari's sleeping form on the crib, softly poking her cheek with a strangely child-like curiosity on his eyes, you feel at ease.
And he thinks that he can probably handle this parenting thing better than he ever expected. Maybe it's not that bad, after all.
Ceirtainly, he thinks, as he holds her in his arms one day after she spoke her first word to him, this parenting thing is not really that bad.
(Her first word was "papa!")
Be ready, because once he gets attached to your daughter he won't stop spoiling her!
"Are you sure, love?" "Yes, I'm sure. We're having a child!" A smile painted itself on his face as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. "I hope I can be a good father for them."
So the Kaedehara family is getting a new member, huh!
Not that there's much left to his name, especially now that he's a fugitive... but he's excited nonetheless!
Although he's not one to settle down for long, he will make an effort for both you and the child, since it's not good for someone who's pregnant to wander around.
He's very protective, but not in an overbearing way! He simply wants you to take it easy and relax, he can take care of everything else on his own!
That being said, he's not rich like Diluc or Scaramouche, so he's also going to work harder than ever to get everything you or the baby need in advance so that neither of you have to stress out!
He's the one who takes it better out of everyone here, he's not extremely worried or outright indifferent, he's simply worried enough, excited and happy!
He already knew you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, so the idea of having a child with you didn't scare him or intimidate him in the slightest!
He's still a bit worried, though.
He is a wanted fugitive in his homeland, after all...
He can only do so much and wish for the situation in Inazuma to change soon, so that he can take both you and his child to see the places he loved to spend his time at when he was a child.
But for now, he's happy enough simply holding his child on his arms, sitting next to you in your small shared home.
You have a girl too! She has Kazuha's hair color and your eye color, she's super adorable ><
He wants you to name her, and you both agree on naming her Izumi, meaning fountain or spring!
"Kaedehara Izumi... it has a nice ring to it." He'd say, smiling down at her.
While Kazuha enjoys travelling more than anything in this world, he's reticent to leave you and your daughter alone or even bring you along with him. So he stays around for as long as you need it.
He will talk a lot to her all the time, so don't be surprised when she picks up very complicated, flowery words from a young age!
He wants her to grow up to be free as the wind and be able to do whatever she wants without fear, so he wants to do his best to be a good father for her!
You can practically see the panic on his face when you tell him the news.
It's the most scared you've ever seen him be, and you've been there to help him through his karmic debt.
So yeah, he takes it the worst out of everyone.
"I'm not mad." He manages to tell you before disappearing to somewhere else in a panicked haze, he needs to sort out his emotions quickly before he can properly talk to you about it. The last thing he saw before he disappeared was your eyes, glinting with sadness. And that only made him feel worse if that was even possible.
It takes him the whole day to come to terms with his feelings on your pregnancy and finally face you again.
He's really, really afraid of hurting you and your child. Not to mention he fears he might've passed some kind of curse from his karma to either of you through the pregnancy :(
Like he said, he isn't mad. He's just scared.
He... he literally never, never thought he would get to be a father.
Family was a foreign concept to him, as were a lot of other things you've slowly helped him understand throughout your time together, so knowing he can have one of his own now... makes him happy, and scared, at the same ime.
He's worse than Diluc when it comes to protecting you and worrying about you.
He won't let you do anything alone, even if he doesn't want to be near you because he doesn't want the karma to harm you or your child in such a vulnerable moment of your lives.
Okay so that aside-
How do people care for babies?
What is he exactly supposed to do?
And- do half-adepti babies need any sort of special treatment in comparison to human babies?
He has no idea on what to do if it doesn't involve a physical fight with a tangible foe, so he goes asking for advice to everyone he knows that could have knowledge on that field.
Verr Goldet and Ganyu are a great help for him. Xiao listens with attention to everything they have to say and asks everything he doesn't understand.
Ganyu tells him about her own experience growing up as half-human so that he can understand what raising a half-human, half-illuminated beast baby might entail.
He also goes to Zhongli for advice and he gets more of the same advice he's already heard, along with many, many reassurances that sound like everything you already tell him every day.
He's very worried, but as the months go by and your child's birth comes closer, he can't help but feel a little excited about it.
Everyone who knows him is happy to see him openly happy for a change on those small moments when he gets excited about his new family with you.
When your child is born, Xiao doesn't want to hold him. It took too much willpower to stay as close as he was right now, standing next to your bed as you held your baby in your arms.
He was so adorable, so small, so fragile, so pure- Xiao was afraid of touching him and breaking or tainting him--
He was already crying, he'd started crying the moment he saw you holding your son for the first time.
He feels so... strange. He's crying, but this isn't a painful, or sad feeling. He feels... happy, but scared, but...
The feeling starts to make some sense to him when he finally convinces himself that it's okay for him to hold the little boy in his arms, when he stares with awe at his face.
The baby looks a lot like the both of you. Arguably, more like him, since he has the same hair and the same bright eyes, but in his face all he can see is you.
And he cries more.
You both named him Liàng, name meaning brilliant!
Xiao does his best to try and get used to parenting, and it gets hard at times.
But he tries, and that's all that matters. He tries to be a good father, and is always there to protect both you and your son from anything trying to harm you.
Even though he was so scared at first, you know he loves the new family you've formed together.
Especially when you catch him trying to hold a conversation with your son, sitting down on the bed next to him as he toys with a soft teddy bear, the two of them surrounded by pillows.
The soft look and smile he wears while he does so tells you that everything is going to be alright.
The three of you are going to be alright, and Xiao wants to make sure of it.
His son will never have to live what he lived or see what he saw. He will make sure of that, no matter what.
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shotorozu · a year ago
hello!! i saw that your requests were open and wanted to ask if you could do single dad! atsumu suna and sakusa falling in love with reader, like it's sort of a meet cute (or not) but the reader falls for them and the kid and happiness lskfjsdfk have a great day!!
single dad! falling for reader
character(s) : miya atsumu, suna rintarou, sakusa kiyoomi (haikyuu!!)
legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, timeskip au! (because,, single dads.)
headcanon type : fluff, crack and angst if you squint (x reader)
warning(s) : mentions of the character’s ex wives, the ex-wives being jerks for multiple different reasons and ways (so,, be warned. for negligence, not very detailed hitting, and cheating, but not on reader)
note(s) : me, writing for haikyuu?? wow, a surprise! also, it’s been a while since i’ve written for haikyuu so if i don’t get the characterization correctly— ESPECIALLY FOR SAKUSA, i’m sorry in advance.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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miya atsumu
at first, his marriage was happy. miya atsumu— successful in his 20s, basically set for life, and with a head strong wife that gave him a wonderful daughter
he was elated when his son, genji came into this world. he wouldn’t swap him out for anyone else. and it was all good, really
until he started spotting marks on genji’s delicate skin, and he even found a large bruise on his shoulder when he was changing his shirt! he almost passed away seeing that
genji would also have a sudden fear of being alone in the house— even when his mother would stay behind to take care of him
but why though? genji’s only 4! what could’ve happened to him? he doesn’t recall hiring any babysitters.
he finally found the answer one day, when he found out that his head strong, intense wife— has been physical with him!
basically, all the love for his wife flew out the window, and he filed for a divorce— and of course, he won custody
and he assumed that his love life would stop at that— and it didn’t sound terrible. all that mattered was that his son was safe, and happy again
but this is where you come in
you work at a toy store, a small business toy store really, that sold the highest of quality only
and atsumu took genji to either replace, or fix the toy he broke a few days back. the place was recommended to him by shoyo— who also had a kid of his own
you’re just two years younger than him, eyes full of determination and care, practically the complete opposite of his ex-wife.
you put up a good conversation with him, while you fixed the toy— the two of you talking about the mutual friends, and that ‘this place should be a lot more popular.’
and also, his son did happen to take a liking to you. he seemed joyous in your presence— compared to how he was with his ex-wife
and from that moment on, the two of you would only become closer— especially when a bunch of his son’s toys started breaking magically
before atsumu knew it, he harbored something for you— the absolute angel you were to the both of them
“‘m sorry for the inconvenience,” the faux blond scratches the back of his next “didn’t know genji here was a ‘lil clumsy weasel,”
you laugh, and genji’s just staring at you with amusement, “it’s fine, genji could break his entire toy box— and i’d still fix it anyway.”
so this was the nerve wracking part, “to make up for it, would you like some coffee later? i could treat ‘ya.”
“is this yer way of askin’ Y/N—”
“shut yer mouth for a sec— uhm,” he looks at you, sheepishly
you laugh, “miya, i wouldn’t mind honestly. but i’d assume you’re busy as it is.”
“not at all!” atsumu replies, “i’ll just, drop off genji first. say yer thanks to Y/N,” atsumu looks at genji, encouraging him to say his thanks
“,,thanks for fixing my toys, Y/N.”
“no problem, genji.” you smile at the two of them when they move to leave the store, fixed toys in hand— as they wave at you before parting
“oh, Y/N?” atsumu calls out,
“call me atsumu— from now on.” his cheeks are tinted pink, and he can feel genji’s eyes on him.
“oh, uhm. yeah! i’ll see you later, atsumu.”
so yeah— the two of you went out for some coffee, and before he even knew it, he was in love.
it might take him a few months to realize it though
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suna rintarou
i can’t imagine him having kids for some reason 💀 but if he were to have any, he’d definitely have a daughter
rintarou himself, didn’t think he would have kids at at all, really. but the moment he was able to meet asuka— his lovely little daughter
he was hooked. he seemed a little awkward at first, not very used to caring for a child. but he was actually decent at his job
he’d sneak into his daughter’s room to hold her when she was upset— even when his wife was too knocked out to realize it, and he’d show her picture books
since she liked them a lot, even when she can’t coherently read a straight paragraph yet.
it started to concern him when he realized how little his wife was involved in the development of their daughter.
she started acting different, a little bit after she didn’t have to breastfeed asuka
and then, that’s when it happened.
“i literally can’t believe you,” he speaks when he’s packing his things, “we have a child together.”
his soon to be ex wife is on the floor, begging him to stay— but he doesn’t care. “look, the idea of you cheating wasn’t very surprising. i don’t care anymore, really. but the fact that you’ve been neglecting asuka for your selfish needs is low. i hope you’re ashamed of yourself.”
his words are so much different that his lenient, calm self. which only solidifies reality
so he leaves with asuka, not caring about the sobs that left his soon to be ex wife’s mouth.
and even though he was still angry at his wife for not being there, he’d never let it show to asuka
he’d still show her picture books, he’d still sit down and watch miraculous ladybug with her— even when she doesn’t understand it all completely
and speaking of picture books— he decided that he needed to buy more for her
so he took her to the bookstore, and he didn’t really know what he was doing. he bought all those previous books when asuka was still a newborn
now it’s a little fuzzy on what he should be looking for. colors, right? he needs a picture book that has plenty of colors.
and that’s where you come in. you’re youthful, despite looking not that far off his age, you’re humming to yourself as you fix the bookshelves
“uhm,” he calls out for your help, and you look at him in recognition “need any help? what are you looking for?”
there’s a helpful glint in your eyes, and it reminded him of what should’ve been in his ex wife’s eyes. “my daughter, likes picture books. and,, i don’t know what i’m doing.”
she’s basically a replica of him, same eye color, and same hair color. but her eyes are much more rounded, youthful.
“cute kid,” you smile when she coos at you, “the children books are this way, follow me!” you exclaim, moving to navigate your way to the children’s book isle
so it seems to be that you really know what you’re doing. most people would’ve recommended picture books with a lot of words, or just no words at all
but you’ve found the books that made asuka exclaim in happiness.
and although it’s not very obvious that rintarou’s caring to his child— he is, and you could tell. despite looking lost, and sometimes bored when you’re explaining the books.
so every 2 weeks, the father would return with his daughter, after he got back from volleyball— and you’d help them pick out on certain books.
rintarou assumed he’d never take a liking in anyone again, but,, here he is. and he doesn’t know how you’ll react to that.
but it’s worth a try— he’d try and get your number when he’d see you again
the next time you see him, the middle blocker’s alone. and he tells you that he needs more picture books for asuka, since she’s staying over at his volleyball friend’s house for a day
“yes?” you turn your head, meeting his stare. he looks well,, himself. like how he first sought out for your help a few weeks back
“,, could i get your number? y’know, just in case asuka wanted worded books in the future. you’ve helped a lot, so,,”
you smile, “is this your way of hitting on me?”
he didn’t think it was that obvious, “what?— i mean,” he fumbles to reason out, feeling a bit more awkward. because yes, he’s asking you out but,, he has the power to make things more laxed, y’know?
truthfully, you don’t know much about him. you know a lot about his daughter, sure! but you don’t know anything about her biological mother, or what happened, or why she’s not taking asuka to the bookstore
but you chose not to ask, out of respect. he’d tell you some other day. “i’m just teasing,” you smile, moving to get a small piece of paper— writing your digits on the paper, and placing it in his pocket
“i’d like to see you again,” you smile, “say hi to asuka for me.”
the middle blocker left the store in content, absolutely sure that asuka would love to see you again even when she can’t form proper sentences.
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sakusa kiyoomi
didn’t think he’d be fit to be a father— but here he is
though he seems cold, he does take responsibility, and he does love and care for his child, seina
it’s not like he’ll be posting pictures of his child everywhere— i mean, even if he had a different personality, he still wouldn’t be posting his kid everywhere
but he does cherish seina, like his life depended on it. he’d still silently watch her cross out word puzzles in a messy matter, he’d silently listen to her talk about her favorite pastries
he loves her!
so that’s why it made him mad, when even after 4 years of seina being born, her mother made little to no effort in spending time with her
doesn’t matter if it was a simple gesture like tucking her in, or showing up to a birthday— she just,, never did.
it was almost as if she was ignoring seina, which causes some distraught on the child’s behalf— which passed on the negative feeling to him
like,, seina wasn’t an unbearable kid. sure, she acted up here and there, that’s an issue kiyoomi has been trying to fix on his own
but it was nothing too concerning, and it was containable. but his wife treated her like she was absolutely unbearable
and it was super strange because, she’d act normal around him, but would barely acknowledge her own daughter’s existence
so what did kiyoomi do? he confronted her, of course.
and no— his wife wasn’t cheating, and nothing tragic happened that would’ve caused her to be this way
she was just,, lazy
“so.. you gave birth and stopped caring for her? is that it?” furious was an understatement, considering that his wife forgot to make her daughter breakfast
which caused her to sneak out of the house, and ask for some breakfast from some nice neighbors.
“look, if you want nothing to do with her, just say that. i’m taking seina, and leaving.” so yeah now he’s a single father.
to say he didn’t love her was too quick, a part of him didn’t love the fact that his wife loved him, but didn’t show any sign of affection towards her daughter.
he knew it was going to fade away anyway. his feelings for his unofficial ex wife.
and i don’t think he’d plan on seeing new people, since now these days— people just like the idea of being with him
which meant that most people would’ve been scared away, or turned off if they really sat down in a conversation with him
besides the point, kiyoomi was taking his daughter to the bakery again— as she was craving new pastries, and wanted to go to the new bakery that just opened near by
and kiyoomi was like “why not ig” and took her there— but then, this is where he’d meet you for the first time
you were one of the bakers, and it’s not like he was going to pay attention to you— until you did something even HE couldn’t do
“papa, whyyyy” the whining sounding painful in his ears, as his daughter clung to the display of pastries “can’t we get moreeee??”
“seina,” he sighs, “no, we can’t.”
“papa, you’re no fair!” her bottom lip trembles, and he could almost FEEL the judgmental stares of the other customers in the bakery
and this is where you come in, “is something the matter?”
“papa won’t.. get me more!” she stares at the selection of pastries, “i’ve been so nice but.. it’s no fair!” her eyes tear up
“don’t cry,” you bend down to blot her tears away with a tissue, “y’know, he probably has a reason, but you’re in luck— actually!” you maneuver behind the counter
you come out from behind, presenting a fresh batch of pastries— that were just right to his daughter’s liking, to the point that it shut her up entirely
“they’re on the house, today’s our opening day, so it’s the bakery’s treat!”you state in a warming matter, grabbing a paper bag to place the pastries in
kiyoomi stares at you, observing you quietly— you could feel his cold stare, even though he’s wearing a medical face mask, that covers about half of his face
you blink, not knowing what is going through his head, and you gesture to his daughter to take them
you clearly don’t know who he is— and that gives kiyoomi some sort of relief, compared to the other customers that are murmuring to each other “sakusa kiyoomi’s here with his daughter! is this what he does in his free time?”
kiyoomi takes the paper bag, giving some sort of non verbal acknowledgement, before he takes his daughter’s hand and leaves
“bye, kind person!” seina calls out to you, which catches you off guard— this causes your coworkers to coo at the girl’s words
“didn’t know sakusa’s daughter was so cute!”
and you’d assume that your interactions with the quiet stranger and his daughter would end at that, but no! life is full of surprises.
the tall masked father comes in again, a little bit before closing time— you were absolutely beat, your back feeling as if boulders were glued to the back, and your feet burning from all of the rush
“oh, what could i do for you?”
he stays quiet, but a small presence sticks behind him, and peers up to you. the face is familiar to you, so you wave “hi there! it’s nice to see you again.”
“i wanna say thanks.” her rounded eyes practically shimmer when they lay themselves on the pastries again, but she shakes her head “for the pastries! they’re very tasty.”
“i’m glad you like them, what was your favorite part of the pastry?”
“the filling! twas yummy!” she gives a toothy grin, “tell me, where ‘dya learn to bake like that?”
kiyoomi stares at the scene unfolding before him. it was.. new. unfamiliar— he hasn’t seen his daughter act like this with anyone else— besides him and his team mates. so, he simply watched.
seina babbled and babbled, much to the your amusement— and the other staff members. you listened to her with your full attention, your interest never wavering in the slightest
it’s a bit later, kiyoomi holds a tired seina in his arms— you expect him to leave the bakery, his daughter’s wishes been fulfilled, and he wouldn’t have a reason to stick around
but then he presents to you a large stack of cash “for the pastries. my,, daughter really liked them.”
your eyes widen, “sir! i told you, the pastries were on the house!” you shake your head, “either way, i can’t take this! it’s too much for some pastries!”
“no, seina insists. in fact, she’s entirely why i’m here.” his tone stays consistent, but even with the mask— you could tell that he’s smiling. “she’s well,, everything. if she’s set on something, then she’ll do everything to achieve her goal.”
you smile at the statement, “thanks for bringing her here sir..?”
kiyoomi hesitates to tell you his name for a moment, an unfamiliar, yet familiar pound in his chest rises— he chooses to not figure it out right now, considering that it would be too soon to pursue a romantic relationship.
but, if his daughter brought him here, then it must be for a reason. “kiyoomi.”
“right,” you smile, “thanks for coming here, kiyoomi. you can give me a call, if seina wants any more pastries.” you write your number on a piece of paper, and hand it to him
he doesn’t reply, but he does take the piece of paper anyway— keeping it in his pocket
and for once, he thinks that he doesn’t hate having to go to the bakery weekly., because there’ll be a warm presence there to greet him— and of course, seina.
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likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!
i do not own hq!! and it’s characters. haikyuu!! belongs to furudate haruichi, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby
do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission :))
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harryhoney-bee · 11 months ago
I'm feeling really soft and fuzzy today, So if I can request something I want to do that abeja 🐝💓
#Concept: Nightly routine with y/n and Harry- parents of two little babies.
Tag me if you write this baby ✨✨
Adore you alot 💕
Night Routine
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Warning: your ovaries might explode... mine did 🤚🏻 I would give this man 9 children if he asked.
Word count: 1.7k
I have a kofi, so please consider buying me coffee if you can <3
I hope you enjoy it!! Let me know what you think 😚
“But I want to take a beth with him, daddy,” Cecília whined to Harry, while he undressed her, putting her new pajamas and towel on the bathroom counter.
“My little darling, he is still little, he can’t take bath with you,” Harry explained, taking Cecí on his lap and putting her inside the warm tub, handing her some of her favorite toys. “Lorenzo is just 6 months, he’s not as big as you.”
Harry made a bowl with his hands, wetting her curly hair and applying shampoo, a pout still on her face. “Please, daddy?” she said, her chubby hand grabbing his arm. Cecí had already mastered her puppy eyes technique, and she knew how much her dad had a weak spot for her.
“Alright, alright,” He finally gave in, “but he will stay outside of the tub, he doesn’t know how to sit by himself.”
“Thank you, daddy!” The girl splashed water around in excitement, which made Harry smile. That’s how he always wanted to see her: happy and healthy.
Harry went to the door, keeping an eye on the girl in the tub. “Baby? Are you done nursing? Cecí wants to see Lorenzo,” he tried to call his wife as loud as he could while being mindful of Lorenzo, who could be asleep by now. He never wanted to alarm any of him or Cecília with his loud voice.
In a matter of seconds, Y/n appeared in the hallway, a confused expression on her face while Lorenzo was calmly laying down on her arms, his little hands resting on Y/n’s shoulders. “What’s wrong? Why does she want to see him? We just had diner together,” she asked, heading in Harry’s direction.
“I’m not sure, guess she just missed him,” Harry answered, giving his wife a kiss on the forehead and bending down to talk to a very awake Lorenzo. “But who wouldn’t miss you, huh? Such a cutie, right buddy?” he was aware that using a baby voice wasn’t the best, but he couldn’t help, Lorenzo was just extremely adorable.
“Mommy! Enzo!” Cecília called, from the opposite side of the bathroom, “come here mommy, miss you too.”
Y/n sat on the bathroom floor, Lorenzo still with her. “Hey, my heart, having a good bath with daddy?” she asked at the same time Harry sat down by her side and hugged her from the side, laying his chin on her head.
“Yeah! Daddy always let me play,” Cecília took one of the yellow ducks and showed her mom, “This is Mc Duck.”
“Wow, he’s a very beautiful duck isn’t he?” She asked, giving Lorenzo to Harry while kneeling near the bathtub since Cecí still had to wash her hair, Y/n gently took the excess of shampoo from the girl’s hair, while Harry tried to keep Lorenzo entertained by singing him a silly song.
“He is, I love yellow,” the little girl admitted, “I think Lorenzo loves yellows too.”
“And why do you think that, Cecí?” Harry asked amused while pretending to eat the boy’s fingers.
“Because we’re are best friends,” She said as if the answer was obvious, “and friends like the same things.” Y/n and Harry looked at each other and laughed, for a five-year-old girl she knew a lot about relationships.
“Oh, how do you know that?” Y/n asked, finishing washing her hair, letting Cecília enjoy her time in the bath.
“Because you and daddy are best friends, you wear the same clothes sometimes, listen to the same music, and watch the same movies,” with every new topic she would count down on her fingers, it was quite a comical sight.
Harry’s chuckle filled the room, the baby on his lap giggled too. “Well, my little lady, you are right. But friends can also like different things, too,” he told her. “Me and mommy like a lot of similar things, but we also have our preferences.”
“Exactly, daddy loves bananas, but I don’t” y/n complemented, getting Cecília out of the tub, helping her into some warm clothes, “I don’t like to work out, but your dad always wakes up early to go for a run, see? We like different things but we still love each other.”
Harry got up from the floor, rocking Lorenzo softly, his heavy eyes indicating how sleepy the baby was. He took the combing cream in his hand and began combing Cecília’s curls with one hand, while his other arm held Lorenzo. Being a father of two made him very talented at doing two things at the same time. While he did that, Y/n was getting Cecí’s toothpaste ready.
“Daddy, do you love mommy even if she doesn’t go running with you?” Cecí asked, before opening her mouth so Y/n could brush her teeth. Normally they would let Cecília do it by herself, with their supervision, but it was already late and the couple desperately needed to get the children to bed, or else their routine would be messed up. Good thing Lorenzo seemed to be falling asleep already.
“Of course I do! We don’t love people just because they do the same things we do, we love people because they are kind and respectful to us, yeah?” Harry said, looking at Y/n and blowing her a kiss. This is what he loved the most about parenthood: watching the kids growing into their best version.
Parenting was made in many different ways, but the couple especially loved having these kinds of conversations. Even though Cecília was still young, she was already beginning to comprehend what love and friendships were, and Harry and Y/n had the privilege to teach her that.
Harry finished her hair, putting the brush and the products in their place under the sink while Y/n put on some socks on Cecí’s feet, the little girl was yawning, seeming tired. Lorenzo started to fussy on Harry’s arms.
“Guess it’s time to sleep, huh?” Harry said, caressing Cecílias head, “Tired, my baby? Want daddy to read a bedtime story to you? Or do you want mommy?” At the same time he mentioned Y/n, Lorenzo started to soft cry. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Harry asked, looking down at the upset’s baby face.”
Y/n took his from Harry’s arms, cuddling him closer to her chest, “What do you want, Enzo? Mommy just fed you” she looked at her husband, “I’ll nurse him again on the bed, he’s probably just a bit agitated, will you put her to sleep?”
“Yeah, of course.”
The woman kissed Cecília on the forehead, “have a good night, ok, baby? Mommy will take you to the playground tomorrow, alright?”
“Ok mommy, I love you and little bro too,” she said, giving a hug to her mom before she disappeared through the door with the crying baby.
Harry took Cecília by her small hand, leading them to her room, just by the side of the main suite, where the couple slept. He guided the little girl to her bed, giving her all of her favorite stuffed animals, and covered Cecília in her Lilac duvet.
“What story do you want today?
“The pirate one, please,” she asked, laying her head on the pillow as Harry went to her bookshelf, picking the one with the title Pirate’s cove. He sat by the end of the bed and began telling the story.
“I have a story for you, a story of untold riches and a young lad who found them. And who am I, you ask? Well, I am the spirit of the sand-dollar, a pirate and a buccaneer, Captain of the seahorse, the finest ship to ever sail the seven seas…”
Harry would occasionally stop to answer any questions Cecília had, but after 15 minutes he was done with the book and the girl was fast asleep, hugging tight to her little lamb. He made sure she was tucked in and turned off the lights (besides the one on the side of Cecília’s bed, she was scared to sleep in a pitch-black room), he closed the door and headed to his bedroom.
To Harry’s surprise, Lorenzo was sleeping in his bassinet by the side of the mattress. He usually would sleep in his nursery, but today just seemed like an off day to the little boy. Harry got closer to him, stroking the chubby cheeks, “Oh my little bug, did mommy let you sleep here with us? You’re not feeling fine?”
“I think he’s teething,” Y/n said in a raspy voice, taking her head from the pillow, “he’s even a bit warmer than usual, I think his gums are itching.”
“My poor baby,” Harry mumbled, turning his head to Y/n, “I hate seeing him upset, maybe we could make some homemade Popsicle, it helped when Cecília was teething.”
“Yeah, we can try that, we can make them tomorrow.” she patted the mattress, “now please come to bed, he did a number on me, I’m so tired.”
“Alright baby,” Harry took off his shirt, standing only in sweatpants, he went to the bed, laying by Y/n side, one arm hooked on her waist as she cuddled to him, placing her head on his shoulder.
“I’m so lucky to have you,” Y/n said against his neck.
“Oh baby, I am the lu--”
“--I mean, how many husbands would still love their wives even if they wouldn’t go jogging at 6 in the morning?” she said teasingly, her giggles reaching his ear.
He rolled his eyes playfully, “you are making a lot of jokes for someone who is tired,” he kissed her temple. “I’m gonna wake you up at 5 am tomorrow, so we can be fitness together.”
“Don’t you dare! You do that and your plan of being a father to three it’s over.”
“Damn sweetheart, that’s not very nice, huh?”
“You’re the one who started,” she said, before closing her eyes, snuggling to Harry’s body. The man placed a hand on her belly, falling asleep minutes later.
Tag list: @sunandherflores @elenagilbert01 @bellelittleoff, @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson
If you don't want to be in the tag list just let me know, please!! <3
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fivelakesinwriting · 10 months ago
hii!! id love it if youd make a rafe x reader enemies to lovers fic where the reader gets a nipple piercing and rafe sees the piercing thru their thin/tight top? reader tries to tease him but rafe tries to ignore it and shit gets FREAKKYYYY lollol
Author's Notes: Y'all are little freaks...and I love that about you. I named the girl in particular for this story, sometimes it's just easier! Please let me know what you think if you have a moment. If this was your request, I hope you love it! xoxo
Warnings: Talk of piercings (might make people uneasy), Swearing, Drinking, Sexual references - Sexual innuendos, Smut *(biting, rough sex, mentions of choking , unprotected sex - please be safe out there, your choice how! ) All Characters are 18+
Requested? YES! Requests for OBX are OPEN!
*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo
To say that Rafe loathed his sister Sarah's friend - Evie - would be an understatement. He didn't know why he disliked the girl so much, she had never really done anything to him to make him dislike her so much. There was just something about her that rubbed him the wrong way.
Maybe it was the way she didn't move out of the way for him when they crossed paths in the hallway at Tannyhill, the way she called him by his full name - Rafe Cameron - or perhaps, because she looked like the kind of girl that wouldn't give him the time of day. And that bothered the shit out of him.
It was a lazy Summer afternoon and Rafe planned on doing nothing with his day. Topper and Kelce weren't available for golf, and Barry was out. So Rafe cut his losses and decided he would hang out at home by the pool and drink beers all day.
As he descended the stairs towards the kitchen to begin his afternoon he heard his sister's laugh and the distinct sound of Evie's laugh just after. Rafe exhaled heavily as he rolled his eyes, succumbing to the notion that his relaxing afternoon would have the background noise of a witch's cackle.
"Ladies." Rafe grumbled as he quickly made his way through the kitchen, a beeline towards the fridge to grab a beer.
"Rafe Cameron, nice to see you." Evie smiled over the top of her phone as she showed Sarah a photo.
"Evie, see they rescheduled your burning at the stake." Rafe glared as he popped the top of his beer, sipped, then made his way out the patio doors towards the pool.
"Rafe!" Sarah scolded as she picked out a piece of fruit from the bowl on the counter in front of her, and threw it at the door as he closed it behind him.
Just as Rafe started to get settled on the lounge chair by the pool, the sun hot on his chest and face, the patio door opened and the girls came outside still giggling.
"Do you need to be here? Can't you take the car and like, leave?" Rafe sighed as he turned his hat back around to shield his eyes from the sun to properly glare at his sister.
"Last I checked this wasn't your house, Rafe. So, we're staying. Deal with it, or go back inside." Sarah replied with a roll of her eyes as she stepped into the pool.
Rafe let out a long, dramatic sigh as he pulled his hat down over his eyes but kept it high enough that he was able to see the pool just under the brim. He crossed his arms over his chest and listened intently to the conversation the girls were having.
"So, you and Anthony are done?" Sarah asked as she waded further into the water.
"So done. Couldn't be more done." Evie stated firmly, and Rafe heard the sound of clothing drop to the deck of the pool.
"That's what you said the last time, and then I had to come pick you up from that party and your knees were all scratched up -" Sarah stated a smirk evident in her voice.
Rafe's ears perked up at the turn the conversation was taking. He knew his sister had a tendency to pick friends that were less than good influences on her. But this? Oh, he would stay and listen to this.
"And that's why I got these done. It's my gift to myself for kicking that loser to curb. And my constant reminder every time I see it." Evie replied with a laugh.
Rafe was beyond curious as to the gift she had given herself. His mind raced as he thought of all the possibilities. And he had not even known she was with someone until that moment. Rafe pulled his hat back up over his eyes, squinting against the sunlight, then stood up from the lounge chair as not to seem like he had been eavesdropping.
But he was.
"Oh, Rafe Cameron! Wait up." Evie called after him as he headed back into the house to grab another beer.
Rafe gave the door a push to keep it open for her as he continued his walk inside the house again, the air conditioning cool on his skin. He opened the fridge doors once more, but felt uncomfortable, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as he felt a pair of eyes on him.
"Stop staring at me." He ordered as he grabbed another beer and closed the door of the refrigerator harshly.
"Just waiting for you to move, Rafe Cameron." Evie smiled while she leaned against the island counter, her sunglasses pushed up on the top of her head as her eyes scanned his body.
"Can just ask." Rafe grumbled as he shifted out of the way, flicking the tab of his beer can. He felt uncomfortable under her gaze but also confident, and powerful. He didn't know which way to go.
"Thank you." She nodded as she made her way passed him to open the doors of the fridge again and peered inside.
Rafe looked over at her through the corner of his eye as best he could, trying to figure out what she had been talking to Sarah about. What was the gift? He cursed his inquiring mind with a bite of his top lip and quickly turned on his heel to leave again.
"Oh, wait. Rafe? Can you help me? I can't reach the glasses up there." Evie asked with a strain in her voice.
Rafe turned around again with a sigh, placing his beer down on the counter then walked back over to the short girl trying to reach a glass in the high up cabinets. He easily reached above her head, grabbed a glass and placed it in front of her.
"There you go." Rafe mumbled as his fingertips trailed over the countertop as he backed up a little to give her some space.
"Thanks, Rafe Cameron." Evie nodded as she turned around to face him, leaning against the counter.
It was then as she was leaned up against the counter, arms holding her body up as Rafe noticed what Evie had been telling Sarah about all along. It had been under his nose, and under her tiny t-shirt the whole time.
"Who's Anthony?" Rafe asked with a clear of his throat he hoped wasn't too obvious before he pointed to her nipples, pierced, very visible through her white t-shirt.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Evie grinned as she got close to him, close enough that he could smell the chlorine from the pool on her and whatever perfume she used. She brushed by him, her nipples grazing his bare arm as she exited the kitchen and Rafe shivered.
Witch. Bitch....fuck, she's hot.
Rafe growled low in his chest as he turned around, grabbed his beer and took a big drink. He pushed the door open to the pool area again and stalked out to see Evie sitting on the pool deck, her feet in the water as Sarah floated on an obnoxious flotation device shaped like a swan.
"You didn't bring a suit, Evie?" Rafe muttered as he took another generous sip of his beer and placed it on the table beside his lounge chair.
"This is my suit." She replied as she kicked a leg out of the water.
"A white t-shirt and bikini bottoms?" Rafe inquired, attempting to keep his tone even.
She didn't reply, only tossed him a smile as she placed her leg back in the water while she leaned back on her hands. She extended her neck back, letting the sun hit her face as she let out a content sigh.
Rafe didn't like to be teased.
"Sarah, go pick up Wheezie." Rafe ordered as he finished off his beer and adjusted his hat on his head, turning the brim backwards.
"Why do I have to do it? You're the one with no friends and nothing to do." Sarah replied with a glare over the the neck of the swan.
"I'll get us all dinner if you go and pick her up. I don't like that Samuel kid she hangs out with." Rafe grumbled as he leaned back in the chair.
"Do you like anyone?" Sarah sighed as she pulled herself over to the edge of the pool and climbed out.
Sarah asked Evie if she wanted to come along, but Evie declined. She said she would stay here, dry off and make sure that Rafe didn't fuck up the dinner choice for them all.
"You want a beer, Evie?" Rafe asked once Sarah had left and it was just the two of them and the tension he wasn't sure how to label.
The two of them stood in the kitchen, looking through take out menus and avoided conversation. Rafe's eyes flickered over the top of the menu he was pretending to read and zeroed in on her nipples, still visible through her shirt and he was reeling.
"You should change your shirt before Wheezie gets back." Rafe mumbled as he quickly looked back at the menu in his hands so she didn't catch him staring.
"For whose benefit? Hers or yours, Rafe Cameron?" Evie smirked as she tossed the menu she was holding onto the counter, then leaned on her forearms and looked up at him.
"Listen. Maybe this Anthony character liked to be teased and have you shove your tits in his face, but I don't. So quit it." Rafe growled as he dropped his own menu to the floor and reached over the counter to take hold of her face, making her look right into his eyes.
"You don't like my tits?" She questioned, hands pressed to the counter as she started to climb onto it to get closer to him. The other shoe starting to drop.
"I love them." Rafe practically whined as Evie climbed onto the counter and crawled over to him. He tugged off her still wet t-shirt, dropping it to the floor before he reached for her breasts.
"Gentle!" She hissed with a yank of his hair as he tugged at either of the steel bars that pierced her nipples.
"Hurts?" Rafe breathed out as his nose brushed over hers, his palms kneading her breasts a little more gently as he let her pull on his hair.
"Not too much. You just look like you can get rough." She muttered as her other hand reached for his bicep and squeezed.
"Can be, yeah. Won't be this time if you don't want that." Rafe exhaled while his lips got closer to hers. She still smelled like chlorine, and her perfume was some sort of flower he couldn't name. He loved it.
Evie twisted her fingers into the hair at the back of his head and pulled his lips to hers, the other shoe finally dropping. Rafe groaned against her mouth as he released his hold on her chest in favour of wrapping his arms around her instead, pulling her close against him.
"Don't bite! Your sister will notice the marks." Evie gasped when Rafe removed his lips from his and kissed down to her collarbone, sinking his teeth into her skin still warm from the sun.
"Give you one of my shirts. Have to cover these anyways." Rafe mumbled into her clavicle as he reached up to palm at her breasts again.
"Because Sarah and Wheezie coming home to me in your clothes isn't more suspicious, Rafe." She scolded as she reached for his hair to tug his face up, making him look at her.
"Let me worry about them." Rafe growled as he grabbed her hips to lift her off the counter then placed her on the cool tiled floor in front of him. He spun her around and pulled her bikini bottoms down her legs, his breath in his throat at the naked woman in front of him.
"Here?!" She squealed as she tossed a frantic look over her shoulder at him, eyes wide as she waited for his next move. Rafe ran his hands from her shoulders down her back to her hips, simply admiring her form.
"Too much for you?" Rafe grinned, an eyebrow raised to challenge her.
"So, teasing is okay as long as you're the tease?" Evie shivered as her head dropped down, forehead pressed to the countertop as Rafe reached around to roll her nipples between his fingers again.
"Yes." Rafe stated simply, as if this were a fact she should have known upon walking into Tannyhill. He bent down to press a kiss to the back of her neck, a groan in the back of his throat as she pushed back into him.
"C'mon, Rafe." Evie whined as her right hand reached back to pull at his hair as he bit down on the creased of her neck while he untied his swim shorts, letting them fall to his feet.
"You're so whiny. So bratty. I fucking hate it." Rafe growled into her neck as he lined himself up with her entrance, choking out a breath at how wet she felt against him.
"Are you sure?" She exhaled and Rafe could hear the smile on her face.
Fucking witch. Beautiful, pierced, whiny, wet and warm fucking witch.
"If you wanna keep this gentle I suggest you keep your mouth shut, sweetheart." Rafe breathed in her ear as he pressed his tip inside of her, and he swore his heart stopped for a second as she clenched around him.
Her back arched and she let out a pathetic little whine that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he sunk inside of her completely. She reached a hand back to grab his wrist, her nails deep in his skin as he settled inside of her to let her adjust to his size.
"Damn." Rafe groaned as he pulled his hips back, fingertips pressed into the skin of her hips to keep her steady as he thrust back in. He sunk his teeth into her neck again, loving the way she bounced back into him when he did.
"More, Rafe. Please." Evie begged breathlessly, her neck extended to the side to let him mark her up. Rafe pulled his calloused fingers over her hips and up to her breasts again, kneading them before he rolled her nipples between his fingers.
"Hate how good you feel. Goddammit, Evie." Rafe growled while he wrapped one arm around her chest to pull her close while his other hand reached between her legs.
"Shit! Too much!" Evie gasped, her eyes wide when Rafe gave a firm thrust that sent her forward to the countertop once more. Her nails scratched over his forearm as he pressed his middle finger to her clit, finding it easily.
"Can't handle it?" Rafe grunted as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his middle finger circling her clit as he pounded into her from behind.
"Fuck you, Rafe Cameron." Evie sobbed out, back arched as she pulled one hand down his forearm and the other reached back to pull at his hair.
"You already are, and I can fucking feel you coming. You always this easy? Hmm?" Rafe panted as he unwrapped his arm from her chest to press his large palm to her collarbone, bringing her upright against him. He wanted to wrap his hand around that delicate little neck so badly, but he would wait. She had asked him to gentler with her, and he was trying so hard.
"You're a fuc - " She cursed but was cut off by Rafe reaching up and pushing two fingers in her mouth.
"Shut up, and just cum for me." Rafe growled as he pushed his middle and index finger further in her mouth, a shiver going down his spine as he felt her tongue swirl over the pads of his fingers.
As she came around him, whining around his fingers, Rafe was reconsidering his deep hatred for Evie. He chased his own release and kept an obnoxiously bruising grip on her hip with his free hand. Rafe groaned against the back of her neck, pressing his palm flat against her stomach to keep her flush against him as he finished inside of her.
"Shit." Rafe breathed out against the back of her neck, removing his fingers from her mouth. He gave her a soft kiss below her hairline as a thank you, and he hoped she didn't feel the way his breath shook on his exhale.
"I still don't like you very much." Evie whispered as she rested her head back on his shoulder, her eyes closed as she twisted his hair between her fingers.
"Don't like you all that much either." Rafe scoffed as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, although he had to admit in that moment just the two of them in the quiet house wrapped around one another - he didn't hate her all that much.
"I might let you do that again, though. If you give me a shirt, and order me food." Evie responded, her eyes opening just a little to watch as he kissed her forehead to the tip of her nose and then her chin.
"If you don't get burned at the stake first, be happy to do that again."
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