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scuderiahoney · 23 days

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Oscar Piastri x Reader // In Motion Pt. 4

Summary: a very bad snowstorm, bears in the ice hockey arena, and a one night only poster board pick-me-up. 6.6k words

Warnings: mentions of physical violence, small mention of alcohol

“So. You and Oscar spent a lot of time together over the break,” Lily says, carefully.

You roll your eyes and set the glue stick in your hand down, sensing this is going to be a long conversation. “We were the only ones here for like, a week. And we were bored. And then Max showed up, so it wasn’t just us.”

Lily isn’t looking at you. She has a wine glass in one hand and a magazine in the other. The two of you are making vision boards, which Max had called “glorified collages” when he called five minutes ago to ask about family dinner for tomorrow.

Lily hums. “He’s just so… quiet.”

You shrug and take a sip of your wine. “He’s not, really, once you get to know him. He’s just… it’s easier for him one on one, you know?”

Lily nods. You nod, too, and lean over to pick up another magazine. You flip through the pages, looking for whatever sticks out. Your friends collect magazines and newspapers and fun posters and give them to you, and you hoard them for days like these. A little sun drawing pops out at you from the page, and you reach for the scissors.

You clear your throat. “Nothing happened, if that’s what you were trying to say. We just. We had some movie nights, played some video games, took a couple walks. That’s all.”

Lily looks up at you and stares. “Right.”

You stare right back. “What?”

“Did you want something to happen?” She asks, and you freeze, the magazine page half turned.

“What?” You ask again.

“You said nothing happened,” she says. “Did you want something to happen?”

You stare at the wine in your glass, the way the warm light of the lamp catches on the red liquid. Your stomach swirls. Did you want something to happen? He’s your friend. Your study partner. He’s your best friends’ teammate. Did you want something to happen? He’s a sweetheart once you get to know him. He holds your hand when you walk by the soccer field and he doesn’t push you when you can’t do it. Did you want something to happen?

You shake your head. “We’re just friends. We bonded over physics trauma. We were just bored.”

Lily nods and reaches for the scissors. “Okay.”

You want to say more to defend yourself, but you think that’ll be even less convincing. So you move your focus back to the vision board and try not to think too much about what she asked you. It doesn’t matter what you wanted, anyways. He’d never see you that way, and if he did, he’s probably too scared of his teammates to do anything about it.

…..

January slips away faster than you’d expected. It’s full of syllabuses and assignments and far too much homework for this early in the semester. You do a lot of it at the kitchen table in the guys’ house, sat across from Oscar even though you’re not in a class together anymore. It’s just nice to have someone to study with, even if he has no idea what you’re talking about when you whine about your biology assignments.

February brings with it the warnings of a winter storm for the ages. On a Thursday night, you sit on the couch in the living room, giving your homework a feeble attempt. The guys are back from an afternoon practice, and everyone is settling in for the evening.

“You know who we play next week,” Carlos says, leaning over the back of the couch and looking at you.

“Can’t remember,” you answer, not even looking up from your book. “Not the Badgers.”

The Badgers are the Timberwolves’ sworn enemies. The rivalry game weekend is one of the most anticipated events on campus. It’s marked on the calendar in the kitchen with a dark red X. It’s weeks away.

“No,” Carlos says, raising his eyebrows when you finally look up at him. “The Bears.”

For just a moment, you wonder what sort of significance that’s supposed to hold. They play a lot of teams. Most of them, they’re relatively civil towards. A lot of the players grew up together on junior teams, and they’re still friends outside of game weekends. You’re about to ask if he has beef with a Bears player when you notice Oscar’s stiff posture where he sits on the floor in front of the couch. He’s been half watching the TV, half working on homework. Then you remember.

Oscar played for the Bears for two years. That was his former team. The ones who treated him so badly he quit hockey. You blink up at Carlos and pray he doesn’t take the route you think he’s going to.

“You know who used to play for the Bears,” Carlos starts, a lilting tone to his voice.

Oscar turns over his shoulder with a grimace. “Play is a strong term,” he says. “I did a lot more sitting than skating.”

Carlos shrugs and wiggles his eyebrows. “I am just saying. Maybe we should be worried that Piastri here will go easy on his friends.”

“Not my friends,” Oscar says, quietly.

You slip your hand off the couch and press it to his shoulder blade, hidden from Carlos’ view behind blankets and cushions. Oscar relaxes slightly, and his eyes flicker to yours. Carlos is just trying to rile him up, probably. There might be a hint of truth to it- trying to test Oscar’s loyalty, which is stupid.

You turn to Carlos and blink. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? Like your own apartment?”

Oscar laughs and tries to disguise it as a cough, muffling it into his elbow. Carlos grins, gaze flickering between you and Oscar, mischief in his eyes.

“Oh, Bunny has claws,” he teases.

By Sunday, everyone is panicked about the impending snow. The stores sell out of all the essentials before you can even bother to plan the week’s family dinner. You and Max will have to make do with what’s left on the bare shelves of the grocery store. The aisles are packed with people. You’ve lost Logan in the fray.

“He’ll be fine,” Max says, trying to maneuver the cart around a small child. He makes a funny face at her, and she laughs. “He will find us, and if he doesn’t…”

“Oh my god, please sound more concerned,” you say.

He shrugs and reaches for a box of Kraft Mac and cheese.

“You have to be kidding,” you say with a glare.

He nods, looking at the grocery list again. “I am. We are buying more TimTams?”

Your face grows hot against your will. You snatch the list from his hand as he eyes you, brows raised. At that exact moment, Logan, your lifesaver, appears from the crowd.

“I got so lost,” he says, eyes wide. “This place is a madhouse.”

Max nods, and he looks around, set determination on his face. “Alright. Let’s get what we need and get out. Logan, hold onto the cart.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “I’m not a child,” he says, but he grabs the cart anyways.

By the time the three of you get in the car, the first few snowflakes are falling. Max sits stiffly in the passenger seat the whole drive, like he’s worried a little snow will send you into a violent crash. You make it home safely, of course, and unload the groceries together. Charles is sitting on the couch in front of the living room window, staring at the snow, a cup of hot chocolate in hand.

“It’s already pretty,” he says, softly.

You ruffle his hair. “Is there more hot chocolate?”

He nods. “Oscar’s making it.”

You head for the kitchen, bags in hand, and find Oscar and Alex huddled around the counter. You give them a smile as you unpack the groceries, and Max and Logan do the same. Oscar looks up at you, eyes bright.

“What do you want in yours?” He asks.

You stand with your hands on your hips, thinking hard. He’s got plenty of supplies- mini marshmallows and sprinkles and caramel drizzle and whipped cream. You shrug.

“Keep it simple,” you say. “A couple marshmallows and some whipped cream.”

He nods eagerly and gets to work. By the time your bags are empty, it’s ready. He hands it off to you with a happy smile- the whipped cream sits in a perfect spiral atop the mug. He looks so proud, and it’s such a sweet gesture, you almost lean over and kiss him right on the forehead. Almost, before you remember half his teammates are here, and Max is watching, and everyone is apparently suspicious. And that it would probably be a strange thing for you to do. You just smile and thank him quietly instead.

You head back into the living room with the mug, trying to shake his soft, proud grin from your brain. Charles is there, in the loveseat next to the window, and he pats the cushion, beckoning you to join him. You sink down, turning so you can look out the window, too. He tosses a blanket over your lap.

“He gave you more whipped cream than me,” he says, pouting.

You shrug. “Maybe he likes me better.”

Charles narrows his eyes at you. “Do you remember, a few months ago, when you thought he hated you?”

You nod. “Funny how things change, huh?”

Oscar walks in then, a mug in his hands. His gaze slips to the window, brows raising on his forehead, and he smiles happily. You smile, too and turn back towards the window as he walks over.

“Pretty,” he says, softly. “Wow, it’s really starting to come down, huh?”

You sigh. “God, I hope they cancel classes tomorrow.”

Charles sighs and sits up. “That reminds me. I have an assignment due at midnight.”

He stands up and stalks off, taking his hot chocolate with him. Oscar makes a sympathetic noise, but he doesn’t hesitate to steal Charles’ spot on the couch. You smile at him when he sits down. Both of you put your legs up on the cushions so you can stare out the window. You rest your head against the back of the couch and let your knee rest against his. Outside, Logan pulls up with a full car, having offered to pick up a few of the team members who didn’t want to walk in the snow. Carlos climbs out of the front seat and leans over, already trying to scrape together a snowball. Oscar sighs. You turn to look at him, and he’s got a look of apprehension on his face. You nudge your knee against his.

“What’s up?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Maybe they’ll cancel the games next weekend, too.”

He doesn’t want to play against his old team. From what he’s told you, you can’t really blame him. He’d hinted at a toxic environment when he first told you, but the longer the two of you have been friends, the more information you’ve pulled out of him. He’d mentioned something about a scar on his upper lip, how his old team captain had left it there when he pushed him onto the ice. Your heart breaks for him.

Under the blanket, you reach out and rest your hand on his knee, lightly. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”

He grins widely at that, and then hides it behind his mug of hot chocolate. You smile right back. Outside, Carlos hits Logan directly in the stomach with a snowball. The others are making their way towards the house. You brace yourself for the impending chaos.

Charles and Max cook dinner, and there are enough people in the house that you end up eating in the living room on one of the couches. Lando sits next to you, while Oscar sits on the floor in front of you, his back against the couch. The news is playing on the TV, and you all steal glances at the bottom of the display, where the area snow closures are being announced.

Max pokes his head into the living room from the dining room. “Snow’s getting bad. Anyone who doesn’t live here should probably go now, yeah?”

People begin to stand up. You almost follow suit, figuring it’s about time you headed back to your apartment, and not really wanting to walk in the snow. Lando grabs your wrist and tugs, though, and Oscar’s head whips around to look at the two of you.

“Maybe you should just stay,” Lando suggests, a small smile on his face. “It’s a storm warning, you know.”

You blink softly at him, though you sit back down. “Lan, I don’t have any of my stuff. I don’t have clothes to sleep in. I have an 8am class, and I don’t want to sleep on the couch and have a sore neck-“

“Oh come on, you know they’re going to cancel classes,” Oscar says, nudging your knee lightly.

“And if they don’t, I’ll go get your stuff,” Lando suggests. He pouts. “And you don’t have to sleep on the couch, I’ll get the air mattress out. C’mon. What if your power goes out?”

“When my power goes out, yours also goes out,” you remind him.

“But we can all be powerless together,” Charles chimes in from the other end of the couch.

You groan. “You guys. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself in a little bit of snow.”

You hear Logan’s car start up outside. You try to get up again, but Lando wraps his arms around your arm, and Oscar reaches for your ankles. You let out a squeaky laugh and try to break free just as Max walks back into the living room, brows furrowed.

“Max! Tell Bunny she should stay here,” Lando calls out.

Max blinks, eyes darting over the entire situation before he turns to look at you. “There’s a winter storm. You live alone. You are not going anywhere.”

You grumble, but you go limp anyways. Lando lets go of you and high fives Max as he walks past. Oscar holds onto your legs for slightly longer, and he squeezes your calf softly before he pulls away. You try to act normal about it, though from the side eyed look Lando gives you, you’re not sure you were successful.

Eventually, you head to the kitchen to help Max clean up from dinner. Lily, Alex, George, and Oscar sit at the dining room table, playing cards, while you and Max do dishes and Lando and Charles clean counters. When your eyes stay on the Oscar for too long, watching him laugh happily, the sink nearly overflows. Max nudges your shoulder.

“You can go hangout, if you want. I can do the dishes,” he suggests.

You shake your head. “M’fine. Just spaced out a bit.”

Max nods, though you can feel him watching you every so often. Lando and Charles start slapping each other with rolled up wet washcloths, and that distracts Max enough, at least for a few minutes. There’s music playing, and you hum along as the soapy water warms your fingers. When the dishes are done, Max ushers you to the dining room, and you take a seat in the chair on next to Oscar. Lando and Charles join, too, and you smile around at everyone. Snow is falling in the backyard, and the world feels quiet. Oscar’s fingers brush against yours when you both reach for a card, and you can’t help but smile. You’re exactly where you want to be.

At 9:30pm, just when you’re starting to yawn, and Lando is talking about going and setting up the air mattress, everyone’s phones go off. Little dings and chirps and vibration sounds echo through the dining room. Alex is the first one to open the email.

“Classes are canceled!” He calls out. “Snow day!”

The room erupts into chaos. Lando and Max hug each other, George stands up and cheers, while Charles collapses forward onto the table in relief. You turn to Oscar as he wraps an arm around your shoulders and shakes you gently. Alex leans over and kisses Lily on the cheek as she cheers. The joy in the room is infectious. Snow days have the ability to turn you all into children again, apparently.

Oscar leaves his arm around the back of your chair for the rest of the game. You try desperately to act like it’s not there, like you can’t feel the warmth of him on the back of your neck or the way his fingers brush against your shoulder. It’s consuming your thoughts, though, making it insanely difficult to focus on the card game at hand.

He’s one of the first to go to bed, and you miss the feeling as soon as he’s gone. You head up to bed eventually, and you pass Charles in the hallway on the way to brush your teeth. He gives you a sleepy half hug and stumbles into his room. You find yourself looking at Oscar’s door and wondering if he’s still awake, but you’re not sure what you’d even do if he was.

You wake up the next morning to Lando still out cold, snoring loudly into his pillow, and the early sun inching its way through the blinds. The air mattress is partially deflated, and you slide off of it and onto the floor with a soft thud. There’s a hoodie laying on the floor that seems relatively clean, and you pull it on. You know immediately it’s not Lando’s- it smells like a different laundry detergent and cologne, but it feels familiar and warm, so you leave it on. Then you wrap a blanket around your shoulders before you head downstairs.

Oscar’s sitting on the loveseat, still rubbing sleep from his eyes when you find him. He turns and blinks up at you, eyelids heavy. You blink back, long and slow, the way you’d been told to do with pet cats. It seems to work on him- he smiles. Without a word, you head for the kitchen.

You return with two mugs of tea, and he smiles up at you. He makes room for you to sit, and you do so happily, curling your legs under you and fully facing the window. It’s a winter wonderland outside. You can’t even see where the front yard ends and the street begins. Snow is still falling, though at a slower rate.

“It’s so… quiet,” Oscar whispers.

He stretches one leg out behind you on the couch, and bends his other knee up next to you. When you lean against him lightly, he doesn’t protest or move away. He just smiles.

You nod in agreement. “Pretty. I love snow.”

You blink a couple times and take a sip of your tea. Oscar’s leg is warm against your side. He reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. You sigh and let your eyelids flutter shut.

“Still sleepy?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah, but the air mattress is deflating, and Lando’s snoring, so…”

“Here,” he says, and you blink at him in confusion.

Oscar’s hand brushes against yours where you’re holding the mug. Your grip falters, and he slips it from your hand and sets it down on the nearby table. Before you can blink again, he leans forward and wraps an arm around your middle. Then he uses it to haul you towards him, your back against his chest, side by side on the little sofa. You’re nestled between him and the back of the couch, surrounded in warmth, your skin burning up. You can feel the soft rise and fall of his chest behind you.

“Okay?” He asks.

You nod, too sleepy to form the words, too sleepy to worry about what this means or if it’s weird or if someone else will see the two of you and have questions. He lets out a little laugh, his hand slipping into the pocket of the hoodie you’re wearing.

“Is this my hoodie?” He asks. You shrug. “Think it is, there's a hole in this pocket.”

“It was on Lando’s floor,” you mumble, burrowing deeper next to him. “So it’s fair game.”

He laughs, but he lets it go. You rest your cheek against his other arm and bask in the softness of it all, blinking at the falling snow and the soft morning light. Sleep scratches at the back of your brain, and as much as you want to fight it, as much as you want to stay present, it melts over you. The last thing you feel before you fall back asleep is the press of his cheek against the top of your head.

When you wake up, he’s in the kitchen, talking lowly with Alex. There’s a pillow wedged behind you to keep you from falling over and off the couch, and the blanket is pulled up around your chin. You don’t blame him for getting up, and you’re a bit relieved that he seems to have done it before the rest of his roommates are up, because you might have never heard the end of it. Though, when Lando rolls out of bed and joins you on the couch, with Max not far behind, and the three of you squeeze onto the little sofa together, you wonder if they’d have even questioned it. Maybe they’d have seen it the same as this- friends curled up on a slow morning, sharing space and warmth. Maybe that’s all it was for Oscar, too. You’re probably the only one who felt butterflies over it.

Oscar pouts when he walks in and sees his spot taken, though. Behind him in the doorway, Alex meets your gaze with a smirk, eyebrows raised, and you start to wonder again. Eventually, the rest of the people in the house join you downstairs, and you all start to make snow day plans. You close your eyes and listen to them talk. Whatever they come up with, you’ll enjoy, you know it already.

…..

Unfortunately for Oscar, the snow clears, and the first game against the Bears goes forward as planned that week. It’s a mess. The Timberwolves are up by two by the time they’re halfway into the second period, but the Bears are playing like, well, bears. Not a lot of penalties, but cheap shots and bad moves and what looks to be exhausting hockey. They’re frustrated by their own inability to score by the third period, and that’s when the claws really come out. The refs send a Bears player to the box for slashing. He gets back on the ice, and then another one gets called for tripping. There’s a few minutes left, they’re down a player, and they’re desperate.

When Oscar gets locked into a battle for the puck with his old team captain, you hold your breath. He manages to bat it away and send it skidding towards Max, but his helmet and face mask get shoved askew in the process. Somehow, you just know. Everyone in the arena follows the puck, but you watch as the captain on the other team rips his gloves off. You grab onto Lily’s arm and watch his fist connect with Oscar’s jaw. The Timberwolves bench erupts into chaos. The fight is over before it even starts, because Oscar just pushes the guy away and doesn’t swing back. The team captain gets sent to the penalty box. Oscar gets his helmet back on and gets back in the game.

An hour and a half later, you sit at the kitchen counter in their house, a mug in front of you. The house is quiet. You’re not sure why you’re still here- Lando went to bed a while ago, and Max had retreated to his room even before that. You’d made the excuse of staying to clean up the dishes, but now you’re just… here, still. Waiting. You should really go home. It’s bordering on midnight. If you walk home much later than this and any of the guys find out, they’ll be pissed.

The front door creaks open. Soft footsteps echo down the hallway, and you look up from your mug of tea. Oscar doesn’t seem surprised when he walks into the kitchen and finds you sitting there. He stops in the doorway, shoulders dropping. There’s a bruise shadowing his jaw. You wince.

“It looks worse than it feels,” he mumbles.

You stand up from the stool and head for the fridge. You can hear him walking closer as you rummage around in the freezer, finally finding one of the ice packs they keep in there. On a whim, you also reach into a cleverly disguised bag of frozen peas, and come out with two chocolate dipped ice cream bars. When you turn back to Oscar, items in hand, he looks perplexed.

“We have ice cream?” He asks, quietly.

You smirk. “Max hides them. But he can’t keep secrets from me. He won’t mind.”

He takes a seat on the stool, and you flip the switch for the overhead lights. He grimaces.

“I already had it looked at,” he says, brows furrowed. “Trainer said it’s fine.”

You hum as you step closer, pretending your heart doesn’t thud in your chest when you come into close range. “I know,” you say, reaching up and placing the ice pack against his face gently. He hisses. “This is actually an interrogation.”

His hand comes up to hold the pack, fingers brushing against yours. He laughs, then winces. “Yeah? What about?”

You drop your hand to your side. “Why didn’t you fight back?”

He sighs heavily, looking anywhere other than your face. You roll your eyes and open one of the ice cream bars and hand it to him. Then you sit down on another stool, facing him, before you open your own ice cream, too.

“I don’t wanna get suspended,” he shrugs. “And I don’t really fight.”

You decide not to bring up the guy at the party last semester and the way Oscar had been ready to punch him. “Even if they hit you first?”

He nods and makes a little noise. You wonder if he ever fought back when they were on the same team, or if he just accepted it. Your heart aches for him. He shrugs again, eyes flickering up to yours. He looks so sweet, despite the harsh kitchen light, despite the purple tinge on his skin, even more with a bit of chocolate in the corner of his lips. You take a bite of your own ice cream in the hopes that it’ll cool you down.

“Just never felt worth it,” he admits. “I don’t know. Some people are in it for that, for the hits and the fights and the… aggression. I just like hockey. Besides, the guy got a penalty. So now he’s out for a game. That’s better than getting a hit on him.”

The tone he says the guy in is interesting- like he’s distancing himself, like it’s easier if he pretends it was just some guy and not the captain of his old team. You overheard some of Lando and Max’s hushed whispers. You know the guy said some shitty things about Oscar on the ice. And tomorrow, he has to play the rest of the team all over again. Oscar takes another bite of his ice cream and purses his lips.

“I’m okay,” he promises. “And if the guys think I'm going easy on them because I have some weird sense of loyalty, I’m really not.”

“Oh, Osc,” you say quietly, shaking your head. You reach across the gap and press your hand to his wrist, the one holding the ice pack. “Nobody thinks that.”

He shrugs. “Carlos was-“

“Carlos was being a dumbass, but he doesn’t really believe it,” you promise. “After the game, all they were worried about was you. That’s it.”

He lets out a huff and takes another bite of his ice cream, cracking through the chocolate shell. “I don’t wanna be worried about.”

You almost pull your hand from his wrist, but as soon as he says it, he winces, closing his eyes. You wait, rubbing your thumb against his skin. He takes a deep breath. You press your finger to his pulse point, and his breath hitches. You watch his shoulders move.

“I don’t mean that. It’s nice. Just. Had a bad day,” he says. “And we have to do it again tomorrow.”

You nod and squeeze his wrist. “That’s the shitty thing about the way college hockey works, huh.”

He nods. The ice pack bumps against his face, and he hisses. You muffle a laugh and reach to put your hand over his to steady it, keeping your grip gentle. He inhales through pursed lips and closes his eyes. He slips his hand off the ice pack and lets you hold it, and blood roars in your ears. It feels so trusting. Strangely intimate. His hand falls to your knee, and you try to breathe normally. You’re probably failing miserably. You swallow all the feelings down and try to come up with something to say.

“Tomorrow is a new day,” you remind him. “We can wake up and pretend today never happened. A new game, a new start.”

He sighs and closes his eyes. “I can try.”

“That’s all anyone could ask for,” you tell him. “That’s all you can ask yourself for.”

A wavering smile crosses his lips. You take a bite of your ice cream to stop yourself from leaning in to brush your own lips against his cheek. The two of you eat the rest of your ice cream bars in the peace and quiet, under the fluorescent kitchen lights. His hand stays on your knee, barely there, just resting. Your fingers go numb holding the ice pack, but you don’t complain. You can hold this for him, for a little bit. He’s holding onto enough.

…..

You wake up on the couch the next morning with an ache in your neck, because by the time you finished the ice cream Oscar insisted it was too late for you to walk home, and you hadn’t wanted to wake Lando by sneaking into his room. Upstairs, you can hear the guys starting to wake up. Soon they’ll be donning their suits and heading to the rink to get ready. You push yourself to sit up and run a hand through your hair. Then you head for the front door.

Once you’re home, you call Lily. “I have an idea,” you say, ”and I need your help.”

Lily, to her credit, doesn’t ask a lot of questions. You’re sure she sort of understands what’s going on without having to ask, but you’re grateful either way. The two of you shuffle into seats in the arena, eager to watch. You’re wearing your jersey today, hoping it brings good luck, and you’ve both gone full out with lines of blue face paint under your eyes.

When they come out onto the ice, Lando’s the first one to spot you. He does a double take, nudging at Max’s shoulder. They both stare, heads tilted. You can’t blame them. Instead of your normal seats, the two of you are in the front row, right down by the boards.

You’d sit here every game if you could, but the tickets are outrageously expensive on a college student budget, especially when you can sit in the student section for free. Today, though, you’d splurged. There’s a poster board sitting at your feet that you’ve worked painstakingly on all morning. It needs to be seen, and for that, you need to be up close.

Lily lets out a squeak when Alex skates over. “Oh! Hi!”

You roll your eyes affectionately at your friend as she makes hand gestures at her boyfriend through the plexiglass. It’s too loud for them to hear each other, especially through the glass, but Alex’s big smile says more than words ever could. For what’s definitely not the first time, you find yourself wishing you could have what they have. You want someone to smile like that when they see you. You want to feel that giddy feeling.

Lando skates over, tapping his glove against the glass. You just shrug and laugh. He points at the poster board. You shake your head, and he rolls his eyes. It’s not for him. He’s not the one who needs it. Out on the ice, Oscar’s next to Charles, heads bent together as they stretch. Max skates over and points at you, and from this close, you can see Charles' affectionate eye roll, and the way Oscar smiles. He goes from apprehension to adoration quite quickly. Something turns in your chest. Lando, who’s still standing nearby, quirks a brow, and you wonder how plainly it’s written across your face.

While they’re all looking, you take a deep breath, pick up the sign, and raise it above your head. Alex bursts into giddy laughter, Lando’s shoulders drop, and Oscar’s face lights up like the sun.

Kick Some PiASStri, it says. The letters were cut out of magazines and glued down this morning, and you’re still a bit worried it’s not dry enough, but it seems to hold for now. Max and Charles bump their heads against each other as they laugh. Oscar shakes his head, absolutely beaming. It’s a new game, a new start, another day, another chance. And maybe, what he needs is a little bit of encouragement. A reminder that there are people rooting for him.

He skates over, playfully shoulder checking Lando, who’s talking to Alex, now. Oscar takes his stick and scoops up a loose puck off the ice. He flips it over the barriers to you, and you catch it, shrieking at the temperature when it lands in your hand. It’s nearly as cold as the icepack you held to his face the night before.The bruise on his jaw is visible as he looks at you through the glass, but he’s smiling so wide all the same.

He yells something. You can barely hear, but between that and the lip reading you’ve learned to do after years of watching hockey, you think he says something about his “number one fan.”

You just smile and laugh and hold the puck up in the air, hoping the giddy feeling in your chest isn’t painfully obvious. He puts a glove against the plexiglass, and you place your hand there, too, and you know you can’t but you swear you feel the warmth of him. It’s probably just your brain playing tricks on you. He shakes his head, then pats his hand against the clear surface, and then he takes off across the ice.

When you turn to Lily, she’s smiling knowingly. “That was…”

“Shut up,” you grumble, rolling your eyes. “I don’t wanna hear it. He just needed some encouragement.”

It seems to work. He’s on fire that night, skating across the ice like it’s exactly where he belongs. You’re proud to be there, proud to hold the poster up when he scores, proud to call yourself his friend.

After the game, you find yourself in the back hallway of the arena, waiting. You can hear the music in the locker room from here, can hear the intermittent shouting and cheering from the guys. The other team is long gone. Lily’s back at the house already, getting things ready for the inevitable big party they’ll be having after a win like this. The poster you’d made leans against the wall.

Oscar’s the one to find you. His smile seems permanently set on his face tonight. His hair’s a mess, towel dried and sticking in every direction. “You kicked ass,” you call out.

He doesn’t stop at the socially acceptable distance apart. He walks close, so close you have to lean your head back just slightly to look him in the eye, so close that you can smell his shampoo and see the freckles on his cheeks. His hands are in his pockets, and your heart is in your throat. There’s something wild in his eyes. The bruise on his jaw is dark, almost blue now, and you reach up to brush a finger against the outline of it. He blinks and pulls his hands from his pockets.

“It was nice to see you in the front row,” he says.

Your pulse is pounding. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. Those tickets are expensive. Just needed to make sure you could see the sign.”

He juts his chin out. “Yeah?”

You swallow, then nod. “Yeah. Did it work?”

He doesn’t answer. He just reaches out, and his hand lands on your hip. His other hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing under your eye, and you hold your breath. His eyes search your face, darting between your eyes and cheeks and lips. You lean closer, closer. His cheeks are rosy and blotchy, from the game and the post game shower and- and maybe, from this, too. Is he feeling it, too? Is his heart racing, is he holding his breath, are there butterflies swirling around in his stomach?

Just when you think you can’t hold your breath any longer, he closes the gap, pressing his lips against your cheek. You wonder if he can feel how warm your face is beneath his lips, if he can hear the way your heartbeat picks up. It’s just a kiss on the cheek, but you let your eyes fall shut anyways, let the warmth wash over you, down your spine and all the way to your fingertips and toes. This is better than a thank you, better than anything, really.

There’s a loud bang of a door being flung open, and both of you break apart in a rush. You wobble, and he does his best to keep you steady. By the time you stand up straight, the two of you are standing a respectable distance apart, and the door to the hallway swings open. It’s Carlos, first, followed by the rest of the team. You try to compose yourself. Oscar’s face is bright red.

“Bunny!” Charles calls out, eager and bright eyed. “We won!”

Oscar backs away when Charles rushes up to hug you. Nobody comments on his red cheeks, or the poster sitting at your feet. You’re sure they’d teased him about it, but they won the game, so anything that got them there is seen as a good thing. Max is the next one to wrap you up in a hug, and soon you’re being pulled along in the stream of hockey players, out towards where the rest of their friends and families wait, out towards the walk back to the house where the party will already be in motion.

“Your face paint is smudged,” Lando says, pointing at your cheek.

You laugh and brush Lando’s hand away from your face. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Oscar wipe his thumb on his pants, as discreetly as possible, and your heart flutters in your chest. There’s a blue streak of paint left behind on the fabric. It’s some sort of evidence that it really happened. It’s enough, for now.

Later that night, when you’re falling asleep in Lando’s room after a long night of celebrating, you think of deep blue bruises and bright blue face paint, and how much you wish you’d gotten the chance to mix them both together. It would look nice, you think, as you drift off. Paint smudged on his rosy, freckled cheeks. It would’ve been nice.

You dream of Oscar. You’re definitely not complaining.

a/n: happy oscar’s birthday to all who celebrate! 🥳

Series Taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @putting-it-into-parc @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @colmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @not-nyasa @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofwordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom @lalloronaisreal @fangirl125reader @tpwkmera @booksandflowrs @elizanav

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phntmeii · 9 months

Text

♡ Dating Bo and Vincent Sinclair Headcanons:

❝ She always said your talent would make up for what God took away from you. ❝

[SFW Headcanons]

Pairings: Artist!Reader x Vincent Sinclair. FemBimbo!Reader x Bo Sinclair.

Warnings: Slight pervert!Bo Sinclair, Mentions of kidnapping+murders, Manipulation.

A/N: Sinclair Twins are some of my new favs. They are so delectably made I can’t- So here are headcanons BUT with describing what their specific types are instead of keeping it vague. Also, I view Vincent as a selective mute who’s vocal chords are a bit fucked up so he only speaks a few times a day so not a complete mute.

Vincent Headcanons:

✎ Vincent hasn't had any dating experience so much of what he knows is from what Bo has told him which didn't make it interesting in his eyes. But when he sees you, all he wants to do is admire you for whatever reason.

✎ He’d specifically go after you and be the first victim he’d kidnap rather than outright kill.

✎ He tries to convince you he isn’t dangerous (to you) and does little things to prove it. Showing off his drawings, playing music for you, writing notes and letters to you.

✎ Vincent would honestly come off strong because he doesn’t understand how fast or slow a relationship to go. The moment he spotted you, you were already his in his mind.

✎ When you fall for him despite his masked face and silent behaviors, you adjust and get used to him. After all, he wasn’t bad at all. He’d keep you in his room which was tidy and neat as his mother taught him, he’d make sure you were completely taken care of and he was sweet in his little notes.

✎ Vincent’s handwriting is perfect as he was taught to do. His notes would be a little formal but adorable things to find before he slinks away to his studio. “Hello, Y/N. I hope you are adjusting well. :) I wanted to know what foods you like so I can tell Bo to make them. Please write back before lunchtime.”

✎ When he discovers you were an artist as well, he was giddy and excited! Someone who knew what it was like to cycle through ideas and fixate on a project for hours on end.

✎ His few words he’d speak a day would be regarding your own art. No matter what it was, he’d tell Lester to get you the supplies for it and watch over you as you worked.

✎ His ragged and hoarse voice spoken into your ear. “Beautiful…”

✎ He’d randomly gift mini wax sculptures of your favorite animals each week that he worked on between sculptures. Each one better and better than the last.

✎ Vincent thrives on your praise. Sweet boy can’t help but lower his head and blush under his mask at each compliment.

✎ His favorite thing about morning routines were when you’d touch and brush his hair. The massaging at the scalp and tingly feeling he’d get as the brush ran down his black strands felt all too good. He’d also let you do whatever hairstyle you wanted.

✎ Vincent would draw you constantly in his sketchbook. He has pages and pages of different angles of your face, what clothing you wore on a certain day or how you posed during breakfast.

✎ Any and I mean ANY sketches you give him in return? He’s holding onto it like it’s pure gold. He hangs it in his studio where he’s at the most to view it all the time.

✎ Trusts your critiques and observations more than anyone else’s and often asks for your opinion on his pieces.

✎ Doesn’t believe that you like his face without the mask but when he sees you present him with a sketch of his half-mutilated face, he’s stunned. To see him, the truest version of him, as something you deemed worthy to spend time depicting absolutely melts him. He starts to become more willing to remove his mask around you especially if it means he’ll get more drawings like that.

✎ Bo would want so badly to tease Vincent for how he acts around you since Vincent is absolutely infatuated but Bo and Lester find it adorable and are happy Vincent found someone despite everything.

✎ He would definitely want to do those heart hands or hand holding wax molds with you and keep it on his desk.

Bo Headcanons:

> This man’s perfect woman has to be a bimbo, I’m sorry. Someone who is perfectly stupid to overlook some toxic qualities to him and won’t suspect any of his more… violent hobbies.

> Doesn’t have to be the stereotypical busty, all-pink wearing bimbo but just a pretty but airheaded girl.

> He’d originally plan on killing you when you showed up saying your car broke down. You were pretty but so were some other victims who had come through Ambrose. But that dumb factor? Oh, now he’s all in.

> Absolute charmer and reels you in and away from the rest of your group. He’d keep making up reasons as to why you should stay for longer than lie about where your group went.

> He’d keep you sat in the gas station, seeing you so easily entertained. He’d put on that charming smile and tuck your hair behind your ear. “Seems like everyone left you behind, sweetheart. How about you stay jus’ a bit longer, hm? Still need to fix up that car a’ yours, don’t we?”

> He does absolutely use your ditzy and air-headed nature to his advantage to tease because who is he if not a teasing charmer?

> “Aww, sugar, there ain’t much goin’ on in that pretty little head a’ yours, is there?”

> He has purposefully done something to make you trip so he can catch you and make it into a whole romantic scene.

> Absolutely brags to Vincent and Lester about how perfect his girlfriend is.

> He cannot get enough of you at the end of the day. He may have gone into it looking to just use you but consider yourself a charmer as well because he’s soon completely enraptured.

> He enjoys watching you get ready in the morning. Bo will get distracted himself and end up just watch you do your makeup for ten minutes, admiring how pretty you look for him.

> NOTHING BUT PRINCESS TREATMENT!!! He can be toxic and a tease but he likes to be a gentleman too.

> He’s kneeling to put on your shoes on for you, kissing up your leg as he does. He keeps a hand on your back to guide you as you two walk together. Don’t even think about paying for anything because his hand is already in his pocket, ready to pay.

> Bo spoils you rotten. He can’t help it when you smile so sweetly at him that it’s honestly unfair. Sometimes it’s stuff at the store other times it’s stuff he stole from a victim before they met their end. You wouldn’t know, of course, so it’s always a sweet thing.

> If he’s buying you clothes, he’s picking out the tightest options so he can see your body constantly. He’s already turned on constantly by you but he wants to have you all dolled up for him always.

> Although sometimes it can be annoying to have you be so oblivious, he resists any direct insults or rude names since he knows you’ll take it to heart. He never wants to see you upset.

> He knows how much you love his Southern accent and dials it up to 11 with sweet pet names when he needs you for something.

> “Sweetheart, do me a favor an’ pass me the wrench? S’got the blue handle, honey, you know which one.”

> Favorite thing he’s seen you do is when you stole his clothing and became a mini-Bo. Wearing his hat and a jumpsuit all proud of yourself and he couldn’t help but chuckle and claim you should dress like that more often so people know you’re all his.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher fucker #slasher #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #slashers x reader #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair headcanons #bo sinclair headcanons #ugh they’re simply so babygirl i can’t #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x y/n #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x you

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roxygen22 · 3 months

Text

FAMILY BUSINESS

"My Little Cocoa Bean" Series

Willy was absolutely smitten by his "little cocoa bean," Benjamin. You called him Ben for short, but Willy affectionately called him Bean. He stayed home from the factory for a bit to help you recover and bond with the baby. He made the most of his limited time off doting on you both. Unless Ben was feeding, he was in Willy's arms. He was truly a devoted, loving father and husband.

Willy went back to work when Ben was about three weeks old. It was an adjustment to be alone with the baby all day, but it made Willy's returns in the evening all the more sweeter. After about six months, he came home with an idea.

"Now that he is a little older and more sturdy, why don't I take Bean with me to work one or two days a week so that you can have some time to yourself?" Willy not-so-secretly struggled going back to work, often lamenting how much he missed you both, but he knew he had to provide for his family.

"Oh my. I love the concept, but how are you going to handle business or have your hands free to make chocolate?" you asked as it took both of your hands to keep Ben from launching himself out of your lap to get to his papa.

"Easy!" Willy exclaimed as he scooped up the baby. "I saw Lottie today, and she had little Georgie tied to her chest with a wrap. Then it clicked - I could do that, too! Besides, babies are good for business! He's so cute, he'll draw a crowd," he mused as he squished his nose against Ben's chubby cheek, then turned to you with a pouty lip.

"I guess we could give it a try. Maybe start with a half day?" you said, excited about the potential but nervous about its execution. You loved your husband, but you were not sure he fully understood what he was in for. You did, however, always admire his determination to get what he wanted in life, even if he resorted to playing on your sympathies with a pout.

"Great! I already went by the store to get fabric to make a sling." You shook your head fondly and went about your evening routine.

Thanks to his mamma's teachings, Willy was handy with a needle and thread. A couple of nights later, his contraption was ready for testing at home. Ben was quite cozy snuggled up on his father's chest, gently babbling while Willy washed the dishes after dinner. Everything was going swimmingly. "Tomorrow would be a good day to try this out for real," he said. "I don't have any business meetings, so I'll just be splitting my time between the stores and the factory."

"Ok," you said tentatively. "I'll get his bag ready and write down his daytime schedule." The next morning, you loaded Willy down with everything he would need - extra clothes for both father and son, burp cloths, bottles, diapering supplies, etc. "So he'll need to eat again in a couple of hours. That will probably be when he needs another diaper change. And he'll need to go down for a na..."

Willy put a hand on your arm to interrupt you, rubbing up and down to calm your nerves. "I've got this. Okay? I want you to focus on enjoying your alone time." Admittedly, you were looking forward to a chance to curl up with a good book without intertuption for a few hours.

"Alright, Bean, ready for some adventure?" The baby cooed and raspberried spit all over Willy's hand. "I'll take that as a yes. Allons-y! Wave bye to mamma!"

"Bye bye, my boys. Have a good day!" You stood at the front door and waved them off.

<><><><>

Willy stopped first at his flagship store in the Galeries Gourmet to ensure things were in order. Mrs. Pennington, a regular customer always in the company of her granddaughter, spotted the chocolatier. "Well, hello there, Mrs. Pennington, Miss Hannah," he greeted and tipped his hat at the ladies. "Are you finding everything okay?"

"Indeed, Mr. Wonka. Thank you," the grandmother smiled. "And who is this handsome little one?" Ben babbled and cooed.

"This is my son, Bean. I mean, Benjamin," Willy replied with a proud smile.

"Oh, how lovely. Learning the family business early, eh?"

"As my mamma said, 'It's not the chocolate that matters. It's the people you share it with.'"

"I remember when my children were that little. Soak it up, Mr. Wonka. It doesn't last long." She patted the baby on the cheek and then continued her shopping. Willy turned around to wipe away a tear and kiss his son on the head.

Ben seemed to enjoy interacting with customers, smiling at their baby talk and staring around the store with wide eyes. But after a couple of hours, he started to fuss. The cashier was on break, so Willy was working the register, bouncing the baby in an attempt to silence his whimpers until he could break away to make a bottle. "Would you like your change spendable or edible?" He practically had to shout at the customers to be heard over Ben's fussing. Luckily the cashier came back before fussing became screaming.

"Okay, Bean, give me just a second and we'll silence those tummy grumbles," he said as he made his way to the stockroom. He deftly prepped a bottle and freed the baby from the sling. Very soon, Ben was reclining in Willy's arms and greedily sucking down a bottle. "See, I told your mamma I've got this."

<><><><>

Once Ben was fed and changed, Willy packed up the diaper bag and set out for the factory. Lulled by his father's swaying, Ben stayed asleep for a good while even after being transferred into the bassinet Willy had set up in his office. Inventing and chocolate making weren't exactly quiet endeavors, so Willy caught up on a bit of bookkeeping instead.

Ben eventually started stirring, alerting Willy with his soft coos. "Hi, sleepy head. Are you ready to go make some chocolate?" Willy set him back in the sling and made his way to the Idea Lab. Feeling refreshed from his nap, the little one was very alert, so Willy thought it would be fun to make this an interactive experience.

"Alright, Bean, I need to come up with something new, and you're going to help me," Willy announced while holding up two jars. "Which jar should I start with?" Of course, Ben's attention was grabbed by the brighest color of the two. "Ooh, essence of rainbow. Good call. What next?" he asked, continuing to hold up two jars at a time for the baby to choose from until he gathered enough.

Willy added the ingredients to his travel factory, which he still used for small batch experiments. Ben stared in wonder as the brightly colored liquids flowing down the spiral tube and giggled at the production noises. Willy was busy pressing buttons and pulling levers when the first chocolates came out of the machine and didn't pay close enough attention to Ben's stray hands. Willy looked down to see the baby's tiny hand grabbing and mashing melted chocolate into the fabric of the sling, his hair, and both of their shirts.

"Well, now I understand why your mother sent spare clothes for both of us." He wiped chocolate off his son's cheek with a finger and licked it. "Tastes good, though! I need to write that concoction down."

<><><><>

You were sitting on the couch with your book when Willy came home at lunchtime. Both boys and even their spare clothes were covered in chocolate. You had to stifle a giggle as you tried to figure out how to best grab the sticky baby without getting covered yourself.

Willy gave you a tired look but also huffed a quiet laugh. "I may have overestimated my ability to keep things under control. I don't know how you get anything done, my sweet. I always knew you were amazing, but you must have superhuman powers."

"Perhaps," you winked as you stripped Ben out of his clothes and started rinsing him off in the sink. "Are you sure you still want to make this a regular occurrence?"

"I would do it again in a heartbeat. But not before I have a bath."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

MASTERLIST

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lunargrapejuice · 1 year

Text

husband!ayato

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, fem!reader, breeding kink, praise kink, a little bit of overstimulation & some (good) tears

husband!ayato who is oh so diligent in drinking the herbal birth control tea offered to him by the best physicians in inazuma each and every morning, even when he skips breakfast. it’s bitter in his mouth despite the fact the medicine smells sweet and the staff has added drops of honey to help but over time, he swears it gets even more bitter.

husband!ayato who was happy to be the one to take such medicine after you had mentioned your distaste for how it made you feel within the first few months of your marriage. he had hoped you’d simply give up on taking it, letting him have the chance to give you both a baby but he was understanding when you said you weren’t ready for that. so he swallowed the unsavory liquid day after day and waited for the moment you’d be ready.

husband!ayato who has dreamed of having a family with you from the moment you captured his heart, before he had even confessed to you. behind the field of lavender in his eyes were images of you sticky with his cum, withering and so pliant underneath him as he continues to fuck his release back into you with his fingers and many times since confessing he had done just that, insatiable to his want-need- to breed you. he knew you would look so unbelievably beautiful round with his child, proof of your love and a promise of a future filled with such happiness. but he would wait patiently until you were ready before getting too carried away with the idea, though he certainly felt his cock twitch when the thought passed by like a leaf floating down a flowing stream.

husband!ayato who’s ears burn, chest swelling, balls so heavy and needy to give it to you, when you finally say the words. tangled in silk sheets, his pretty cock buried to the hilt within your warm walls that clench around him, trying to hold off your orgasm until he tells you it’s okay to cum even though you're desperate for release. you're a bumbling mess with your legs spread and thighs pressed against your chest, tears rolling down your pretty cheeks, lost in ecstasy as he thrusts into you over and over again.

his scent envelopes the world around you, hints of sex mixed within and it only adds onto the fact that all you can focus on is him. his pale skin beaded with sweat, baby blue locks of hair kissing his collar bones, pink lips parted as he tries to catch his breath and hang onto the last bits of sanity he has when you feel so fucking tight wrapped around him.

“‘yato-“ you can barely say his name and he smiles knowing he’s brought you to such bliss. but at your next words his lips draw in elated, mischievous, smirk, his eyes not unlike when he bests an unsuspected adversary with only his words but unlike those moments, they were swirling with unbridled love too. “p- please breed me.”

husband!ayato who stops drinking his birth control tea that next morning, feeling his entire being fill with mirth and rapture when he tells thoma, who normally brews it for him, it won't be necessary any more.

husband!ayato who you knew took you very seriously when you said those words, even if it was a half truth said while you were cock drunk. and though you still feel nervous about the prospect of being pregnant and having a child, you don’t correct him and start to find yourself daydreaming of a future with a baby, your baby, in his arms.

husband!ayato whos fucking you every day until you get pregnant and plenty after. there’s paperwork to do, meetings to schedule, little notes to read through left by the staff and ayaka but you won’t find him in his office. he’s still fulfilling his duties though, just in another way.

husband!ayato who, for the upteenth time this week and the second time today, has his pretty wife so obedient and ready for him within the sheets of your shared bed, a pillow under your lower back providing him the best angle to slide his cock in and out of your soaking cunt and not let a single drop of his seed go to waste.

husband!ayato who praises you through it all, honied words dripping from his lips and onto your heated skin reminding you how good you are for him. how he’s going to make you round with his child, breed you like you so sweetly asked, like hes wanted to for so long. how thankful he is to have a family with you. how so very madly in love with you he is. how amazing of a mother you’ll be. they seem never ending, bathing you in a sea of love, and even when his own pleasure makes his words more sporadic and deep, moments from filling you to the brim, he continues to whisper how much he loves you until your walls are painted white.

husband!ayato who fucks his release into you just a bit, despite how sensitive you both are, as he whispers against yours lips promises to give you a baby, to be the best husband and father. sealing each vow with a kiss as he wipes your blissful tears.

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

#kamisato ayato #ayato kamisato #genshin impact #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #genshin impact x reader #ayato #ayato x reader #ayato smut #kamisato ayato smut #genshin impact smut #🌙moonlight.stories

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oncasette · 11 months

Note

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐂. send in a character + a scenario for a blurb + 𝗨𝗠𝗕𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗔

ok theseus request!!!!! what about some hurt/comfort, maybe him reacting to you crying? + [ CUP ]: bringing both hands up to cup the receiver’s face, the sender draws them in closer to them in order to get a better look at their face. (I feel like this prompt fits the scenario perfectly so yeah <3)

𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥, 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗’𝗩𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥

summary: 1.7k

It’d been all his stupid idea, one you vehemently wanted to run away from. One that struck fear up your spine like lightning and sent fire licking at the base of your skull. An idea that, now, led you to be standing outside his old flat’s front door with ice-cold rain sticking your clothes to your skin and hot tears streaming down your cheeks hours after he’d left you reeling in your own flat.

or the three times theseus asked you to move in with him and the one time you asked.

warnings: implied smut

masterlist | taglist

Moving in with Theseus hadn’t been your idea. It’d been his. Totally, completely, and unarguably his idea. One he’d spent weeks, at this point, convincing you to go through with. An idea you’d initially been so adamant about turning down. But he was nothing if not persistent.

He’d presented you with a key the first night he’d asked. Just a key, warm from where he’d kept it in his coat pocket pressed tight against his chest over the course of his work day. He’d dug it out of the jacket that had been hastily tossed off to the floor near the side of the bed when you’d nearly jumped his bones after he’d apparated back to his flat. You’d already been home–his home, that is–snuggled up in his bed with a cup of tea and a sleep shirt he’d had since his seventh year.

“What’s this?” you asked as he’d handed it to you. His hands shook, and he’d been grateful you failed to make a comment on it.

“A key,” he hummed as you took it.

“But… Thes, I already have a key to your place?” Your eyebrows knitted across your forehead as your statement quirked into a question.

“I know,” he said. “My lease comes up in a month and I…”

You brought a hand up to the side of his jaw, urging him to continue as his lips pressed kisses to your palm.

“I know yours does, too. A week after mine, but I was hoping you’d think about letting it.”

It’s a wonder it hadn’t clicked for you yet. His beautiful, bright girl that amazed him every day, who was making him spell out this question for her, letter by letter, while his heart threatened to give out in his chest.

“Letting it do what?” you asked.

“Run out,” he exhaled. Merlin, his lungs felt heavy.

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” you asked, hand dropping to your side as you sat up fully. You brought the top sheet with you, covering the skin Theseus had spent the last hour and a half marking with his teeth. His eyes burned as he followed your movement and leaned his back against the headboard.

“I’d been trying to, yes,” he said.

“Don’t you think it’s a little… I don’t know,” you swallowed, throat dry with a lack of an answer. “Fast?”

“Love, we’ve been together for nearly two years. I thought–”

He’d been cut off with your legs being thrown over the edge of the bed, feet scrambling to hold your body up as your hands reached for the clothes you’d been wearing earlier in the evening.

“I can’t.” With your eyes screwed shut, you tugged your slip back up over your body and crossed the room to grab the shirt you’d come to his flat in–not the one of his you’d been wearing when he’d come home, a sight that has his jaw aching. It’d taken you a minute longer to find your wand, white knuckling it as you pressed a kiss to your boyfriend’s hairline. You were gone within the minute, with the key left at the foot of the bed.

He hadn’t even had the chance to move from the spot you’d left him in.

He’d left it alone enough after that, though his heart had ached each time his hand passed over the weight of the key he still kept in his pocket.

The second time he’d asked–more insinuated, this time–had been at breakfast two weeks later, thankfully, in a less vulnerable state of dress.

“I saw the flat yesterday,” he said, though his eyebrows were raised with the hint that there was more lingering under that statement than you’d wanted. “Unfurnished, that is. I saw it a couple weeks ago when I bought it and everything, but I saw it for the first time since I’d signed the lease on it yesterday.”

“Theseus.”

“Look, I know. I know.” He drew his fist tight as he inhaled. “I know you think it’s too fast, darling.”

“Then why are you doing this?” you asked.

You weren’t even sure why you were fighting it this hard at this point anymore. It was all you’d thought about since he’d asked the first time. And you weren’t going to lie, you’d warmed to the idea. Not that you were ready to admit that, apparently.

He brought your hand up to gently lay kisses on your knuckles. “Just come see it with me, yeah?”

You offered him a pointed look. “Don’t have to make any snap decisions,” he assured you. “Even though I’m desperately hoping that you will.”

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay?”

“I’ll go look at the flat with you,” you said.

He’d been so eager, the smile he’d given you had been enough to allow him to convince you to stop by the next morning.

It was a lovely flat, honestly. It had a kitchen large enough to house an island, a bedroom much bigger than you’d been anticipating, and a view that had you fully leaning out the window to get a better look at. And, it was a five minute walk away from your office. A fact Theseus had mentioned thirty seconds into your initial walkthrough. A walkthrough that had unsurprisingly consisted of all the reasons Theseus had picked the place. Or, better worded, all the reasons Theseus thought the place would be a perfect fit for you. For the both of you.

“The living room’s the perfect size for your couch, you know. I was thinking you’d want to bring it along if you ever ended up here since you spent so long picking it out and everything…”

“Thes, it’s beautiful. It really is,” you said, stepping closer to him as you watched the corners of his lips twitch into a grin.

He fully bridged the gap then, hands falling to your hips to tug you into his chest. “So?”

“I’ll think about it,” you hummed and he leaned down to kiss you fully.

“Improvement,” he said. “I’ll take it.”

The next couple days had been a constant barrage of dropped hints. It felt like you’d been suffocated beneath the weight of the question, one that hadn’t been asked in its entirety since that first night.

He’d been halfway through one of his… less subtle hints when you snapped. All you’d wanted was time. A bit of time. A tiny, miniature, speck of time to organize your thoughts, and he’d given you just short of what you’d needed.

The key had been dangling from his fingers, for Merlin’s sake, and it took all the strength in your body not to snatch it out of his hands and throw it out the window of your own flat, the one the two of you were currently curled up in.

“Stop it!” you spat. “I said I would think about it, right. I can’t think about anything with the way you’re keeping this up.”

He stalled, fingers wrapping around the gold key to hide it from view. His jaw snapped closed as your own clenched.

“I’m sorry, I just…” you sighed.

“No, I get it. I’ll give you some more time,” he said, a crack of thunder in the distance rumbling overhead as you watched him pull away from you to gather the few belongings he’d brought with him.

He left with little more than a muttered goodbye as he slipped out the door. Not even a kiss, one you’d been hopeful enough to think would come despite your current situation.

You knock on the door with feeble fingers, toes curling in your shoes as your socks meld to the skin of your feet. You wait a minute. Two minutes, nearly three before he throws open the door with only a pair of trousers on.

“What are you-” he cuts himself off. “My love, are you crying?”

You barely manage out a shake of your head, a piss poor attempt at a lie, as a shiver rumbles through your torso.

“Come here, come inside,” he steps aside enough to let you in. He shuts the door once you’re inside, immediately tugging you into his chest where the warmth of his skin does wonders to calm the tremors wracking through you. Both of his hands come up to cup your cheeks, drawing your face into his direct gaze no matter how much you want to shove your nose into his neck and hide from his worrying eyes.

“What is it, darling?” His eyes scan your face as his hands hold the weight of your head up under your jaw. His thumb clears a tear off your cheek before it has the chance to fall. “C’mon, love. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Please let me live with you,” you sniffle, hands coming up to grasp at the waistband of his pants. The way you’re clinging to him feels desperate, like he’d slip away if you managed to let go.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry I let it go on this long. I’m sorry I ever made you think I don’t want this, want you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” you sob. “Please let me live with you.”

“I thought you wanted-”

“I thought I did, too,” you hiccup, and Theseus has to fight to hide the smile that’s working its way up his face. “But, then I realized what I really wanted was you. This. All of you.”

“You have me. You’ve always had me darling, promise,” he says. “And obviously I want you to live with me… but are you sure?”

You nod.

“I need to hear you say it, lovely. You’ve kind of been fighting me on this since day one,” he says. “I’m sure,” you say.

#theseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander imagine #harry potter #fantastic beasts and where to find them #r's 2.5k #callum turner #callum turner x reader

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1whore1gang · 6 months

Text

I wanted to try something

NSFW WARNING MDNI!!!!

Soooo I’ve went down the rabbit hole of werewolf!TF141 and honestly I’ve had some ideas pop up, so uh yeah this is what my brain does when it gets on tumblr

Warnings: sex…full blown smut, fingering, p in v, all the warnings y’all,….. i think i used ‘pup’ in here somewhere

MDNI!! NSFW!!

Omega!Reader x Werewolf!141

written as a f!reader

It was like any other day, training with the 141. As the newest addition to this pack, you were pushed hard to be the best. Being one of two Omegas was even tougher, considering the other was your superior.

“Push harder rookie.” Soap’s voice rang out as you pulled yourself off the floor, exhausted and drenched in sweat. “Dig deep, you aren’t goin’ anywhere until you pin me down.”

You want to groan, complain, but you don’t. Instead you brace for impact as the sparing continues. Soap had you beat in just about every category when it came to fighting, this man was HUGE. You couldn’t keep up.

“I’m tapping out!” The words come out quick as Soap backs off.

“Already?” He questions. Soap was one of two members you’ve already met. You haven’t been here very long.

“Yeah, I’m calling it quits.” You push yourself onto your feet, panting. “You can’t expect this out of me on Day 3 can you?”

Soap only laughs, not even a glisten of sweat on him. “You’ll get there pup. Soon enough you’ll be able to take the big dogs down.”

Big dogs?? You think to yourself. There’s guys bigger than Soap here?

Meeting the rest of the team embarrassed you more than you care to admit. This team was graced with two alphas. When you got near the room they were in, every hair stood up on your body, their scent so strong it lingered down the hallway.

Weeks and months go by without a hitch, except for one, but we don’t talk about that…

You were sent on your first mission and it was the night prior when your whole world fell apart. You had just gotten out of the shower when your knees collapsed and your body felt like it was on fire.

“No, no, no…” You had felt sick the last couple of days but chalked it up to something you ate. You felt your skin becoming warm and damp with sweat as it all hit you.

You were in heat

You panicked, the pain engulfing every inch of you, the need for relief taking over your cognitive thinking.

You crawled over to your phone and texted the only person you could trust, the team Beta, Gaz.

Within minutes he was at your door, jumping inside your room to help you dress and get into bed. He was calm, assuring you it was all going to be alright.

That’s when you let out a horrific scream. You covered your mouth immediately, Gaz backing away. “What was that?”

Your eyes were wide. “I don’t know…”

You both froze in time, praying it didn’t draw either of you any unwanted attention. But, unbeknownst to you both, the other 3 men could smell you miles away.

Gaz stayed with you, trying to cool you off and keep you fed and hydrated, it was hours before another man showed up at your door….Soap.

He looked at you with worry, in his pajama pants and shirt. He didn’t even have shoes on…. “What’s going on? Your scent is intoxicating.” He slowly entered your room, approaching you with caution.

Gaz spoke for you, and when he did, Soap asked him to give you and him some space. Soap crawled in behind you, leaning your head against his chest. “Relax for me okay?” Soap was an Omega, just like you, but somehow his presence felt calming. It didn’t dull the ache you felt, but he brought a sense of peace to your mind.

Suddenly, you feel his hands roam down your body to your lounge pants and remove them down to your ankles, lifting your knees to spread your legs. “Do you trust me?”

You could only nod as the cold air of your room hit your bottom half. Soap’s hand took home inbetween your legs, his fingers entering you and filling the emptiness you’ve felt.

A moan left your lips as he moved, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder. Gaz watched on, waiting to be told how he could help.

As good as Soap’s fingers felt, you still felt the searing pain. It wasn’t doing anything to quell your problems. It caused you to question Soap’s methods.

But little did you know, Soap knew exactly what he was doing because it didn’t take long of his fingers in you until the two alphas appeared at your door. The sight before them causing them to become feral, primal even. “Look at that, they smelled us.” Soap smirked.

Looking at Price and Ghost, you couldn’t help but feel a bit exposed, but their presence brought a newfound relief to you.

Price moved first, coming to hover above you against Soap’s chest, his hand brushing your hair down as he spoke softly: “We’re gonna take care of ya.”

Price slowly moved Soap’s hand away, putting his own palm flat against you. His middle finger swiped up, taking in the feeling of you. His eyes closed as he buried himself in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

Before you knew it, Ghost was now in place of Soap, his hips rutting against your ass, his hands on your chest. You had found yourself sandwiched between the two alphas. You were drinking in every moment.

Price slowly warned you as he moved, slowly letting you adjust to his size, purring in your ear: “That’s it, that’s a good girl.”

Ghost took care of every other area of your body, slowly caressing you in every way. His fingers grazed over your nipples and eventually would travel down to your clit to help you along.

Between both of them, it didn’t take long for you to come undone. Price continued through to his own release, burying himself deep inside you. The feeling was unlike anything.

The sounds you let out as the fiery pain left your body we’re heaven to the men’s ears. Price quickly moved to help clean you up as Ghost covered you with the hoodie he had been wearing. Ghost had marked your sheets with his scent, leaving you surrounded with it.

As soon as you were clean, the alphas left without another word, Gaz quickly coming to your aid with food and water while Soap sat with you, massaging your sides. They kept you company until you had fallen asleep, and they returned to their own rooms.

#captain price x reader #soap mactavish smut #tf141 x reader #soap mactavish x reader #call of duty mw2 #werewolf!soap #werewolf au #simon riley x reader #alpha man #modern warefare 2 x reader #tf 141 x reader

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snotbuggle · 26 days

Text

Omega when she gets to jail and realizes that she now has to big sister four other children. One of which is nowhere near her age.

Going to try and condense some more serious thoughts about these episodes down below so I can avoid spoiling someone as much as possible and not post a dozen times. I don’t want to miss tag any one of those.

Jex/Jek?? I can’t completely remember his name, but the mirialan kid is for sure not going to trust her at all. Can’t say much for the pantoran kid since they haven’t shown much of them so far, but Eva is going to love her.

I think the mirialan kid is definitely going to be skeptical of Omega’s prior knowledge of the facility, Emerie, and why they’re there. Although he might overlook these things hanging on her promise that her brothers will get her, and in turn them, out of there. I can’t help but wonder what Omega and the others will think after about a week and there still not being a rescue. (These two are assuming that she will be placed with the other force sensitive children. Although she may be moved since her blood actually works for project Necromancer)

Crosshair is definitely going to hear it from Hunter. ESPECIALLY after he threw Hunter’s past failure to keep her out of Tantiss in his face. What I think will weigh on his conscience more though is the fact he thinks she’ll be alone this time. In a way she definitely will, but I have no doubt that he realizes he was probably the highlight of her day. He was probably the one thing that kept her hopeful even if he tried to talk down on her and get her to leave. Yes, she had hope that Hunter and Wrecker would find her, but she also needed someone there with her. A familiar face and not someone who just revealed they were your sister out of the blue. Her situation has changed, but Crosshair doesn’t know that. The Crosshair guilt is going to be so real in these last episodes.

Switching gears, CX agents are always a cool and interesting topic for me. While the identity of CX-2 isn’t usually as engaging, I have to say that I’ve drifted from the standpoint of “there’s no way that’s Tech” to “it’s a possibility” over the course of the last two episodes. I’ve seen some fun ideas for who it is otherwise. Personally, I think that they’re probably just another copy paste man with no autonomy anymore.

ANYHOW! I haven’t seen anyone talk about it much, but the scene with Hemlock reviewing the CX agent data and the capsule has me thinking a little harder on their creation/conditioning. The way Hemlock talks about the other operatives as well. “The others aren’t ready to join you” (paraphrasing) seems to show that after the mental conditioning through obviously brutal means, it takes a load of time to physically condition the agents. Seeing as CX-1 was most likely initiated around the same time as Crosshair (I choose to believe that they were near each other’s tables which is why they’re familiar), that took around five months to half a year. In that time span there had to be a lot of soldiers who Hemlock saw fit to be “reprogrammed” but we see very few operatives throughout. This means that if they make it out of mental conditioning, physical conditioning is most likely very dangerous and often times fatal. I’d like to draw attention to the capsules as a part of that physical conditioning. There were several capsules that Hemlock was observing, along with the foggy one that is most likely that new Huyang-lookin-ass operative. If these capsules are the final stage of physical conditioning, it adds meaning to CX-2’s first line, “Why have I been activated?” (Once again paraphrasing). Although the capsules could be for something else entirely.

Also a bit of a gripe, why in the world do you need a new secret-secret operative, Hemlock? You have the commandos, and then the first X troopers, now the CX’s, and what? You wanted a new one? I can’t tell if this man is an overachiever or just way too absorbed into the advanced trooper rabbit hole. Also for you Tech theorists, it’s kinda suspicious that he makes a new version of agents isn’t it? Almost like there’s something…deviant about him?

Completely side tracking here, I really like Phee’s awareness in the station. Yeah she didn’t hear the blaring alarm, but she was in a room where it’d be hard to hear anyways. However, when she got back she felt something was off about the ramp. We’ve seen how slick CX-2 is, so her noticing something is up was a nice touch imo. Also was very appreciative of her caution and readiness with her knife. I love when female characters get to be aware of their surroundings and ready to throw hands if things go south.

In conclusion, thank you for listening to my dump-rambling. I’ve been trying to keep my lips shut so I don’t miss tag anything and spoil it for someone (because I know that I’ll forget to tag everything right). I hope Wrecker is okay. And even if I’m not a Tech CX theorist, I have to admit that I’ve been seeing some fairly strong parallels.

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iovetecchou · 8 months

Text

My Heart ⧸ Bram Stoker

༞ Contains...! a pinch of fluff, angst and smut (holy shit), unintentionally plot-heavy, strangers to friends to lovers, realization of feelings, being in denial of said feelings (from bram), confessions, self-loathing (from bram), reader offering bram the love he deserves! consent, kissing, making out, nipple play, soft touches, praise, needy!reader, oral (receiving... obviously, considering that- nvm) face sitting...

Bram uses "mo chroí" as a term of endearment for the reader, which essentially translates to "my heart" the title of this fic- woah, shocker!

༞ AFAB Reader.

༞ 5,873 words.

"Y/N, get my boots!"

"Y/N, where is my lunch?"

"Y/N! I don't have all day, you know."

This charade was getting old.

You were at Fukuchi's beck and call. His little servant and it made you sick. You didn't choose this life for yourself— no, you never would have done this to yourself.

You were a Hunting Dog at one point, but it felt so long since your glory days. The moment you witnessed what Fukuchi did to your former colleague— Tachihara, your fate was sealed.

You had two options: join the Decay of Angels or die, like all the sorry souls before you— and all the ones to come.

Well, you chose the former. But being a part of the Decay of Angels is not what you pictured. You were a glorified secretary to Fukuchi. You had to tuck your tail between your legs day in and day out.

Swallow your pride and follow orders.

You loathed it with every fiber of your being. However, you would be lying if you said nothing good came out of this arrangement.

There was Bram, your last-ditch effort for hope.

You hadn't thought much of the strange coffin Fukuchi hauled around. The same casket that inevitably caused chaos. You knew it couldn't be the coffin but rather— what was inside the tattered wooden box that caused disarray.

One day, curiosity got the better of you. Fukuchi was in his living quarters, presumably resting as you finished your tedious paperwork for the day. It was already past midnight by the time you finished up.

You stood up from your desk, stretching your limbs before trekking toward Fukuchi's office. Usually, you would place the paperwork atop his desk and then go on your merry way. That is what Fukuchi permitted you to do, at least. But tonight was… different.

That unruly coffin propped up against the furthest wall in the darkest corner of his office caught your eye. Most people who worked under Fukuchi's thumb would not have given it a second glance.

But you? You could not take your eyes off it.

The gold cross plating that decorated the outside of the coffin caught the light the second you creaked the office door open. The glimmering plating caught your eye. Beckoning you to come closer- drawing you in.

Before your brain could catch up, your feet carried forward, inching closer toward that dimly lit corner. All you could think of was, what could be inside that tattered box? That same question flickered in your mind for weeks, and you were finally about to get your answer.

Your trembling fingertips grazed over the smooth finish on the casket. They danced over the golden cross before trailing lower. Your persparated palms felt each flank of the coffin before you found the groove you were skimming for.

You took a sharp intake of breath. Fukuchi would kill you if he saw you right now. You thought, before diminishing that idea from your mind. Face it, he was going to kill you eventually. So you might as well continue with your plan. You got this far. There was no turning back.

It took all your might to drag the weighty wooden door of the coffin open. But once you did, your breath hitched.

It was… a man? A pretty one at that. This strange man was most definitely sleeping. He had prominent veins running along his lashline, you noted. His hair was pure white, long, and all out of place, nearly covering half of his visage. He also had two identical scars adorning his pallid cheeks.

He was mesmerizing, statuesque.

Maybe this man was artificial? He was as still as could be, and you found it tricky to disclose if he was breathing. There was no rise and fall of his chest, no warmth radiating from his frame. You could not control the way your fingers rose to his form. Ghosting over his face, only a few centimeters away from grazing his cheek.

"Who are you?"

A gruff voice pulled you out of your trance. You stumbled back, watching in disbelief as the mysterious man before you opened his lids, revealing the most bewitching crimson eyes. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as you struggled to find the words to respond to him.

"Hey… I asked you a question."

The alluring man before you sounded more annoyed this time. His eyes never once left yours. It intimidated you more than you would have liked to admit.

"I'm nobody, really! I'm sorry for disturbing you—I'll be going now."

You babbled, smoothing your shirt down nervously before turning on your heel. You wanted nothing more than to leave this office and forget this night ever happened.

"Stop."

His compelling voice ceased you in your tracks. You should have just left, but you didn't. Instead, you obeyed his demand.

"How long has it been since my last awakening?"

You quickly turned to face the stranger in the corner of your boss's office.

"Huh? Last awakening…? I'm not sure I understand what you are talking about. I'm sorry."

He gave you a pointed look. Finally, he let his eyes wander over your frame before ultimately letting out a deep sigh.

"Tell me, do you possess a legendary treasure? It Contains musicians in a box, the size no bigger than a fist, a wireless radio."

Your eyes widened. This man considered a wireless radio to be a legendary treasure…? Just who was this guy?

"Um… I don't own one of those. I do, however, have my phone to listen to music. If… that's what you are interested in?"

Before he could question the foreign words you just uttered to him, he watched as you pulled a peculiar device from your pocket. You unraveled your earbuds, trekking dangerously close to this strange man.

Slowly, you position the earbuds in each of his ears. Making sure they were in place, all the while crimson eyes followed your every movement. Before he could ask you the meaning of this—music surged through the strange gadget, flooding his senses with pleasant beats.

You watched as his demeanor softened upon hearing your playlist. He closed his eyes in contentment, letting the melody overcome him. You were confused, to say the least. Not only was this man trapped in a coffin, but his only wish was to listen to music?

"Are you… a goddess?"

You couldn't help but giggle at his terminology. Your laughter pulled his lids open once more.

"Far from it… I'm Y/N, and you are?"

"So 'nobody' does have a name after all. I'm the King of the Dead, Bram Stoker."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, as you slightly tilted your head in confusion at his fascinating introduction, politely putting your hand out to shake his own.

"We cannot do that. I assumed you were aware of my… circumstance?"

Your grin wavered, more bewildered than ever at his words. Bram let out a drawn-out sigh at your expression. The realization of your cluelessness ultimately dawned on him.

"Pull this sheet from off me."

Bram sounded peeved as he gestured down toward his chest with his gaze alone. Hesitantly, you did so.

Your hands trembled, nails digging into the tattered raven cloth that concealed Bram moments ago. You could not accept what you were witnessing.

Bram was missing over half of his body- most of his frame was replaced by a large sword. It plunged through his whole being. All that remained intact was the upper half of his torso and head.

"Horrid, right? This is what my old enemy, Fukuchi, did to me."

Before you could control it, tears spilled past your lash line. Staining your burning cheeks. Bram looked taken aback as you wept for him. His mouth slumped open as he quizzically observed you.

"How awful… I'm so sorry. I hate Fukuchi so much. Of course, he would do something like this…"

Your tears flowed as you covered Bram up with that worn-out black sheet. Your hands came up to cup his cheeks, caressing the paired scars that decorated them.

Your touch pulled a gasp from both your lips.

Your breath hitched the second you came in contact with the frigid porcelain skin of his cheeks.

And Bram felt dizzy upon feeling the warmth radiating from your palms.

He could not remember the last time he felt such a gentle touch. His mind staggered at the contact.

"Would you… Perhaps mind if we conversed for a while? It seems you and I both have a lot of catching up to do."

That first encounter between Bram and yourself was ages ago. But an unforgettable one at that. You two stayed up all night, filling one another in on everything.

Bram informed you all about his ability and Fukuchi's use of him. You told Bram all about how you ended up here and what went wrong.

That night felt like a dream, something you only could have made up in your subconscious. Each night, you stayed at work later and later. You waited for everyone around you to dissipate so you could see Bram again. Talk to him for hours, learn more about his life, memorize him.

Your secret meet-ups went on for months. You could care less about getting killed by Fukuchi if you ever got caught. All you cared about was Bram. He was your only fragment of hope in your sad excuse of a life. The closer you became, the more your feelings developed for him.

On the surface, Bram came off as aloof; bored, and uninterested in anything. But that could not be further from the truth. Everything Bram loved, from his human life, was stolen from him. The idea of ever feeling warmth or love again was drained from his mind. That was until you appeared.

After five months of sneaking around and spending your nightfalls listening to music with one another, sharing stories, and growing close, you ultimately acknowledged your feelings for him.

"Bram, I… I need to tell you something."

You nervously fumbled with the buttons on your shirt, not daring to meet Bram's enchanting gaze. You sat atop Fukuchi's desk as Bram quizzically stared down at you from where he was propped up inside his coffin, against the back wall; as usual.

"Hm? What seems to be the matter, Y/N?"

His tone was delicate, solely for you. Quickly, you shot up from the desk. If speaking was too challenging, then… You had no choice but to show him.

Bram observed as you hastily approached him. Your hands darted up to his cheeks, holding him delicately like that first night you met. But before Bram could ask you- once more, what was wrong, you kissed him. Bram gasped against your lips, crimson orbs blown wide as he peered down at you. He watched you intently as your lips molded to his.

He could not accept what was occurring. Again, that head-dizzying feeling washed over him as you pulled away from his lips. You hurridly relaxed your head atop his shoulder, leaving a small kiss on the side of his neck before whispering,

"I love you, Bram."

His mind slowly digested the pure and earnest words you uttered against his neck. Bram finally had something— or rather, someone grant him motivation, hope for his less-than-ideal living circumstances— and life itself.

Bram felt unloveable. How could he not? He was quite literally half the man he used to be. But, you… loved him?

Your face felt hot as the seconds ticked on by. You nestled your face further into the juncture of his throat and shoulder. Placing delicate kisses on his frigid neck. Your hand continued to soothe over one of his cheeks as your other hand came up to card through his slate locks.

“I… do not think someone as magnificent as you should love a terror like me. You… will be met with misfortunes if you involve yourself with the likes of me. It would be soundest if you forgot about me altogether. Turn back now, before it's too late.”

His tone was low, barely inaudible if not for the proximity. You removed your head from his shoulder, meeting his ruby gaze for the first time since your confession.

“You said that is what you think… but- is that what you want?”

Bram let out a sigh, lids fluttering shut for a moment. He swore that if he looked at you for any longer, he would succumb to you. Your devoted countenance was too much to endure for Bram.

“…No.”

You brought your other hand back up to his fair visage, soothing over the identical scars residing on his freezing cheeks.

“Then tell me, Bram… what do you want? I know this whole situation- with Fukuchi, was against your will. I know you do not care to hurt others or cause destruction. You are not a monster. You never could be in my eyes. I love you for who you are in here,”

You gently tap his forehead to emphasize your point. His eyelids fluttered back open at your hasty display.

Bram knew this was wrong. He should not feel so attached- so compelled to you. But, you overtook his mind; you were his solace.

Your voice was the most desirable melody. Bram wished he could record your tellings and listen to you speak, over and over until it branded his brain.

He undoubtedly loved you for as long as he could remember. You were the first to show him compassion, hear him, and care about him in god knows how long. Bram did not even think he was capable of loving again. But you were quite the anomaly. You crept into his soul, taking over his every thought before he could intercept.

Bram watched as your eyebrows rose in concern. His silence was making your heart pound rapidly against your sternum. The fear of being rejected by him bubbled up in your abdomen, making you feel queasy.

He let out one of his signature sighs before his strong voice sliced through your doubts.

"What I desire… is for you to kiss me, once more."

Without any hesitation, you gave Bram what he wanted.

You pushed your lips against his with more confidence this time. Your mind surged with delight at the pleasant sighs Bram let out in between kisses. Your heart was thumping out of your chest, and Bram could hear it. Loud and clear.

His hearing was heightened, after all. Any physical reaction or sound you let out, he caught.

You were completely lost in the moment. The only thing tugging you out of your trance was the feeling of your lungs burning for air. As you pulled away to catch your breath, your forehead rested atop Bram's. Your warm breath tickled his wet ruddy lips.

There was that head-dizzying feeling again.

Bram's eyes flickered over your melodic expression. He wanted nothing more than to keep you happy like this for as long as he could. He knew your time together was limited, but he did not have the heart to break it to you. (Quite literally-)

When Fukuchi had no more use for Bram, he would annihilate him.

It was inevitable.

Bram hated feeling so helpless. He had not bothered to put up a fight all those times his old enemy threatened to end his life if he did not comply.

But now, Bram had someone to fight for.

He wanted nothing more than to shield you from harm. Take you away from this wretched place and live a comfortable life with you.

That was nothing but a fairytale. A nice thought, but unattainable.

If only he could remove this sword, regenerate his body, and get you out of this mournful circumstance. Be the man he yearned to be for you.

Not a day went by when he did not fantasize about wrapping you in his arms, hugging you tightly to himself. Bram often dreamt about holding your hand in his, wondering what it would feel like to interlock fingers. The warmth from your palm would compliment his icy grip, he reckoned.

The feeling of your nose bumping against his own pulled him from his thoughts. You beamed brightly at him, caressing his cheeks in that gentle way he loved so much.

And in that moment… he lost all composure, succumbing to you entirely.

"I… love you, Y/N. More than you could ever fathom."

You grew bolder as more months flickered by. You began sneaking Bram out of Fukuchi's unsettling office in the dead of night, taking him back to your living quarters.

You did not have much to work with. Your room consisted of a bed and a desk. Thankfully, with your very own private bathroom connected. You tried to liven the place up as much as you could, but Fukuchi did not permit you to leave the premises very often. He only authorized your leave if he needed you to run tedious errands for him.

You'll never forget how Bram's face beamed brightly the moment he saw your safe space. A change of scenery was pleasant for him. He felt select, bearing witness to such an intimate detail of your life. The handmade stars and planets that decorated your ceiling caught Bram's eye almost instantly.

You explained to him that they were your only treasure remaining from your life when you were free. The first time you laid Bram to rest atop your bed, turning off the lights before making yourself comfortable beside him, was remarkable.

Your gaze was glued to his face, not wanting to miss his reaction when your little galaxy began to illuminate. Bram gasped softly as the stars and planets twinkled in the dusk. You could have sworn his eyes were sparkling as he gaped at the ceiling.

Since then, it was custom for Bram and yourself to rest atop your duvet, gazing up at your artificial stars as you talked endlessly. Sometimes, you would doze off, but Bram would wake you with a stifled cough and a call of your name before dawn.

He desperately longed to lull himself to sleep beside you, considering how much he valued his slumber, but Bram knew that was a dangerous game to play. If Fukuchi discovered what you both were up to, well, game over.

You cherished those precious seconds when you awoke to your lover's voice. Before reality sunk in... and you had to scramble up to sneak Bram back to his coffin. A twinge of guilt always twisted in your gut as you placed your lover back in his confinement.

But each time he gave you a gentle smile, reassuring you with the whisper of his voice,

"We will be together again once the sun lowers. Chin up, mo chroí."

Bram's crimson orbs lingered on your lips before trailing up, capturing your mesmerizing gaze. A habit your lover picked up on to signal that he yearned for a kiss.

Your hands came up to his visage, fingertips dancing along his earlobes as you inched closer toward his lips. Bram's eyes grew tenfold as you now caressed the tips of his ears, pulling a strangled groan from his throat.

The noise slipping from your lover's mouth caused heat to swirl in your core, heartbeat accelerating as you closed the gap. Your lips captured his with more intensity than ever before.

Bram would be lying if he said he could not feel your desire for more through the embrace. His mind went numb, ruby eyes fluttering shut and allowing himself to succumb to you.

You quickly pulled back, offering him a muted smile and a wave before closing the casket. Enveloping Bram in that lonesome void he despised so greatly.

That evening; as you lay in bed beside your lover, your mind was elsewhere— Bram noted.

"Something is bothering you, yes?"

He whispered, snapping you out of your thoughts. You turned your head to meet his gaze. Your faces barely centimeters apart.

"Bram, do certain touches make you feel… good?"

His eyebrows rose, lips curling into a pout; giving your question much thought.

"Good? Good, how?"

Ah, you should have known he would ask you to elaborate further. But what you were trying to ask was crass. Maybe it would be best if you—

"Would it be okay if I show you what I mean by… good?"

Bram noticed you were being bashful, piquing his curiosity even further.

"If that is what you desire… then yes, mo chroí."

Slowly, you sat up, positioning yourself in front of your lover. Bram's watchful gaze followed your every movement. His eyes trailed lower as your shaky hands came to fiddle with the two buttons of his tattered white shirt.

"Is this still okay?"

Breathlessly, Bram answered with a quiet,

"…Yes."

His mind raced as you undid the few remaining buttons on his shirt, followed by his torn overcoat. You pushed back the flimsy fabrics past what remained of his torso. Your eyes curiously observed his newly exposed flesh.

His neck was malleable, adams apple bobbing in his throat ever so often. His pale collarbones were prominent, complimenting his broad shoulders. You were surprised to see his lithe chest was still intact. His complexion was so fair; the only pigment that blotted his form were his rose-colored nipples. Right below his chest was where the sword resided, shrouded by a vacant void.

"Beautiful…"

You whispered, driving yourself closer toward Bram. One of your hands came up to caress his cheek, tipping his head to the side. Your breath tickled his neck as you placed chaste kisses on his throat. Your lover choked on a whine as your hands trailed higher.

Gently, you took one of his pointed ears in your grasp, rubbing the cool flesh between your thumb and forefinger.

"Does this feel good?"

You questioned. Your breath tickled Bram's throat, causing the hairs on his nape to stand. He could feel his composure slipping from your gentle touches.

"Considerably, yes."

Bram answered matter-of-factly, trying his hardest to keep his tone level. But you made it nearly impossible with how your teeth grazed his feeble throat. Experimentally, your lips closed around his neck, right underneath the spot where the skin of his earlobe meets his throat.

"Hah…"

Bram groaned, scoring his bottom lip with his teeth to keep any more obscene sounds from stumbling out. His reaction only encouraged you further. You moved slightly higher, kissing up toward his ear opposite from the one you caressed.

You nibbled on his lobe gently. Your warm tongue darted out, trailing up his sensitive flesh and pulling a whine from your lover's lips.

"Christ…"

His mind went fuzzy from the pleasure you granted him. Bram's eyes rolled back into his skull as you continued your assault on his erogenous zones. He secretly condemned himself for healing at an inhumane rate, wanting nothing more than for your marks to last. But alas, that was not feasible.

His crimson orbs fired open as he felt your thumb swipe over his nipple. His head slanted downward, attempting to get a better view. You handled Bram with much consideration, taking your time exploring every part of his form that made him tick.

You sneered against the tip of his ear as his rosy nipple hardened beneath your thumb. Your forefinger was quick to follow alongside your thumb. Pulling the pebbled bud with the pads of your fingers, twisting the sensitive flesh ever so slightly.

You left one last nip to his ear before sitting upright, desperately yearning to see his blissed-out expression. And you were not disappointed in the slightest.

His slate locks stuck to his cheeks and forehead from the perspiration. Bram's cheeks were flush as his mouth hung agape, drool seeping past his lips. Your lover unabashedly mewled for you as you continued your assault on his nipple.

You gazed at him intently, absolutely hypnotized by him. Seeing Bram in this state of euphoria was better than you pictured. And you imagined what it would be like to have him under you more times than you would like to admit.

Your fingers flowed over toward his other peck. You gently caressed his frigid flesh before tweaking his other nipple between your digits. Bram cried out this time at your ministrations. His head lulled back in pleasure as you crept your face closer toward his.

“Please, look at me.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. Bram's ragged breath tickled your lips from how hard he was panting. But only a moment passed before his lids were peeling open once more.

You beamed brightly at him before capturing his lips with yours. Bram’s eyes stayed open; watching as you boldly swiped your wet tongue along his bottom lip. He happily complied, allowing you to explore his mouth further.

Bram’s mind was racing. You both had never taken things this far before. But it was exhilarating. He could not shake this tingly sensation that overlaid his form. Your touch sent shockwaves of electricity through him.

Only when you let a moan of your own out against his lips did he trail his gaze downward. Bram’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief as he watched your hips glide against the bed. You were rocking yourself into the mattress, almost on instinct; as you deepened the kiss further.

Your tongue traced over his fangs, treading with caution as the point of his teeth felt razor sharp with just the slightest bit of pressure from your appendage. You could feel your lungs burning, begging you to pull away and catch your breath.

“Mo chroí.…”

His voice was faint. Bram was still trying to regain his composure from that heated make-out session. Warmth crept up on you as you gazed into his ruby eyes.

You huffed, catching your breath as your hips faintly humped against the duvet.

“Would you allow me to return the blessing, Mo chroí?"

Your face heated up at his insinuation, not expecting such bold words from Bram.

"Y-Yes… but, forgive me for asking, how?"

Bram let out a deep sigh, muttering something under his breath. He averted his gaze from your own, seemingly struggling to find the words.

"Remove your garments and… sit on me. If you are pleased with doing so, mo chroí."

"Sit on you—?"

The tables had turned, and now you were the one feeling clueless. His eyes locked onto your gaze once more before he said matter-of-factly,

"Sit atop my face… let me taste you. It would bring me immense joy to bring you pleasure."

Heat surged in your core from his request. Your mind went blank; all you could do was nod in agreement. Not trusting your voice right now.

Your shaky hands came to your shirt, pulling it over your head slowly. Your eyes never once left his. You unclasped your bra next, feeling tempted to cover yourself- but you refrained. Your cheeks felt hot as you watched his crimson orbs hungrily consume the sight of you stripping before him.

He was quiet as your fingers came down to your waist. You leaned back atop the bed, lifting your hips and slipping off your pants and panties in one swift motion. You felt sheepish being bare before your lover for the first time.

Bram's alluring gaze continued to rake over your body. You were enchanting. Perfect, in every way, and all his for the taking.

"You are exquisite, mo chroí."

His soft words pulled you out of your head. Your worries and doubts slipped away as he stared at you lovingly, a heartwarming smile adorning his visage.

"Come here."

He whispered, giving you his grace to inch closer. You slowly positioned yourself on your hands and knees, crawling your way up his frame. You pushed yourself off your hands, spine straightening as your thighs trembled on each side of his face.

Bram could smell your essence from the proximity. He could not help the way his eyes fixated on your slick trickling down the inside of your thigh.

"Sit."

"But… are you sure? What if I hurt you—"

"Please, sit."

His plea for you only turned you on further. You scored your bottom lip with your teeth, letting your lids flutter shut before relaxing your lower half. Your hands twisted beneath your duvet the second your pussy made contact with Bram's lips.

Your lover wasted no time darting his tongue out, experimentally prodding at your entrance. You whined from the cool wet sensation, knuckles turning white from how fiercely your hand twisted into the duvet.

Bram's tongue greedily lapped up your essence, groaning against your pussy from your taste. His head went fuzzy; being enveloped by you in this way was exhilarating. He was not well versed in such lewd acts, but he gave it his all to please you.

His lengthy tongue gradually began thrusting in and out of your dripping hole. Your hips bucked forward on instinct as he explored the deepest parts of you, picking up his pace over time. You could not control your hips as they continued to rut against his mouth.

It felt good— too good. You were unsure how long you would last with how faultlessly Bram pleasured you. You would be lying if you said you had not thought about being intimate with your lover in this way. But he surpassed your expectations; you were on cloud nine.

"Bram—!"

You cried out, only dragging your eyelids open when his tongue pulled out of your entrance, slotting to prod at your clit instead. You were shocked to find Bram gazing up at you. His ruby orbs were half-lidded, and his eyebrows were knitted in concentration as he flattened his tongue against your clit.

"F-Fuck… don't stop— please!"

You babbled, grounding your hips into his mouth as his lips circled around your puffy bud, pulling a gasp from your ruddy lips. He took that as a sign to explore further; gently, he suckled on your clit. Bram started slow, gauging your every reaction to make sure you were still feeling good. Hence, the reason his eyes trained on your face since the start.

Watching you reach nirvana because of his actions doused him with pride. Bram wanted to have you like this for the rest of his days. He hoped that in the future, he would be free of this sword-shaped nuisance.

He longed for his body, especially in moments like now. What he would give to grasp your waist, pull your cunt impossibly closer to his mouth. Letting you suffocate him as much as you wanted. His pointed nails would leave marks on your hips, no doubt. If Bram had his full body, he would be able to please you the way he knew he could. Bram yearned to have you under him one of these days, make love to you countlessly, and plug you full with his seed.

He let his fantasies play out in his mind as he sucked on your clit, with more force. Bram swirled his tongue around your nub between particularly fierce sucks, gradually finding a rhythm.

“Bram— it’s too much… feels so good, I think I’m gonna— ah!”

You hardly finished your train of thought before your orgasm crashed over you. Your body shuddered, hips stilling against Bram’s mouth as he worked you through your high. Your thighs twitched rapidly, locking around his face the moment you came.

You felt Bram moan against your messy pussy, provoking you to shake further from the onslaught of pleasure. As a few moments ticked by, Bram slowed his ministrations against your sticky clit. Gradually, drawing his lips off your puffy bud.

You took in a shaky breath as you began to regain composure. Slowly, you crept your body down the length of the bed until your head was level with Bram’s. You collapsed beside him, bringing a shaky hand up to wipe over his slick-covered lips.

“I’m sorry… I got you all messy…”

You squeaked out, embarrassment shooting up your spine as the reality of the situation crept up on you.

“Don’t apologize, I… enjoyed every moment of that. You taste so—“

“Ah! Don’t finish that sentence… I’ll simply die of embarrassment!”

You shouted, bringing your free hand up to cover your face from Bram’s devoted gaze. A deep chuckle emitting from beside you pulled you out of your shameful tizzy.

Bram was… laughing?

The sound of his laughter filling your room made your heart pound against your sternum. It was so foreign to hear him be carefree, but you fell in love with it. The perfect melody, you reasoned.

“I don’t ever desire you to die on my watch, mo chroí. So, I suppose I will keep my lips sealed— for now.”

You could not help the laugh that slipped past your lips from his playful tone. Seeing all the different sides of Bram felt forbidden. You could not even begin to describe how lucky you felt; to be the one who got to explore the deepest parts of him.

“For now, huh? What do you say we rest for a little while— I’ll be sure to set multiple alarms so we’ll be awake before dawn. I promise! I just want to rest with you for a bit…”

You let out between yawns, abruptly feeling very sleepy from that intense orgasm your lover granted you only moments ago. Bram offered you a small smile before ultimately caving in to you like he always did.

“As you wish. But please be sure to pull the covers up, mo chroí. Besides you dying, the last thing I desire is for you to catch a cold.”

You slowly sat up from the bed, slipping on your panties and an oversized sweater. You set a few alarms on your phone; as promised, before switching the light off. As you crawled back into bed beside Bram, your hands came up to peel the duvet back far enough so you could slot yourself underneath. Making sure to cover Bram with the plush blanket as well.

“Goodnight, Bram… I love you…”

You whispered against his neck, placing a small kiss there before your droopy eyelids sealed shut. You dozed off in a matter of seconds. Bram sighed in contentment as he felt your warm breath tickle the side of his throat.

He let his eyes wander along the glowing galaxy that stretched along your ceiling. Bram could not help but think back; to the first moment he saw the artificial stars and planets. Never would he have imagined you two would be here together in such an intimate and loving way based on your first encounter.

You were the first person to show him kindness in a very long time, and you continued to be that guiding light in his life from that day forward. In this makeshift galaxy, Bram believed you were the star that burned the brightest. His favorite one.

He turned his head toward you, placing a lingering kiss atop your head. Bram finally allowed himself to succumb to slumber, eyes closing shut. Dozing off without a second thought just before whispering out,

“I love you more, mo réalta.”

mo réalta = my star

742 notes · View notes

tabibitto · 2 years

Text

Genshin Character Headcannons | How They Cuddle

m.list

Characters: Xiao, Zhongli, Kaeya, Diluc

CW: Sfw, Fluff, comfy comfort :)

AN: My pillow was quite warm and soft after being in the dryer, snuggling into it for multiple minutes was what got me to come up with this idea kekekeke-

Xiao:

Cuddling Xiao will take multiple weeks if not months after being around him for him to be comfortable to ask you one day to do it

Poor boy is too scared he would harm you with his karmic debt, or what if he falls asleep, has a nightmare and ends up hurting you

It took a lot of convincing that you would be okay for him to give you a hesitant but sincere nod

The first few times he would wait for you to get into bed first, watching carefully as you turned your back to him and began to crawl with obvious excitement on the bed, curling into a ball on your back, in a half sideways position before patting the space behind you

You paused before asking him, “Big spoon or little spoon?”

Xiao would freeze mid-step to the bed and turn his head like a puppy, confused as to what you meant?

You hid your smile at his actions and explained in a gentle tone, “Do you want to cuddle me or shall I hold you instead?”

His eyes widened and he let out a small gasp before clearing his throat

“U-Uhm…I-I…”

He gulped

“W-What would you like to do?”

Xiao, wasn’t gonna lie. Both sounded amazing. Though he feared if he picked, you would be upset with what he chose

So the first time, he said he would hold you, and allowed you to manhandle him however you saw fit

He took note of how you curled up against him, sighing in bliss at the warmth and comfort you felt in a specific position, how you gently moved his hands where you wanted them

And just as gently held his waist

If you are taller then him, then he would most likely place the side of his face on your chest, facing you. if you have boobs then Xiao would wiggle his face higher, closer to your collarbone in order to both not turn red or make you uncomfortable

If you are shorter then him, he settled for tucking your head under his chin, once again facing you. he felt he could protect you this way, shield you from the cruelties of this world if all he had to do was shift his body over yours

In a way it is comforting for your smaller body to be in a tiny and comfy ball around his, fret not, if you are taller then him he feels all the same

He would just hold his arms tighter around your bigger frame, fearing if he didn’t someone would steal you away

Overtime he became more comfortable touching you so intimately, and would take the initiative to hold you whenever he wanted to, though always asking for permission

Xiao likes to cuddle you in the normal spooning position, except he wants you face him

His legs tangled comfortably with yours

Holding you close to his chest as he gently pulls off his embroidered gloves to reveal his slim and elegant hands

Slightly rough but still comfortable and littered with scars

He uses his fingers to gently slip under your shirt and draw imaginary designs on your skin, or perhaps rub your back or side tummy in comfort

Xiao would do this to pass the time, since he doesn’t normally sleep, and if he does it takes a long time for his senses to relax and understand there is no danger to be weary of

Besides, you seem to enjoy his touchiness so win-win

If you seek him out for comfort after a long day, or because you feel upset, he is instantly laying on the bed, pulling you to him

Believe it or not cuddling has healed his inner child, and very traumatized self after years of abuse

So if he can use such a lovely thing to help you too he will do so without question

What do you need sweething? Whatever it is he will give

Kisses? All over your pretty skin. Praises? Might be a little harder but he will give it his all to reassure you

Under his watch, a sad Y/N is unacceptable and shall immediately be comforted no matter what

With him, you will always be safe. Even if it is from the lingering thoughts of someone’s negativity, and even your own

Zhongli:

Zhongli was in the middle of drinking his tea when you brought this up and turned his head towards you sharply upon hearing this request

His brows would raise in curiosity and amusement before letting out a soft chuckle

“Of course my dear..though I fear it has been many years since I have last…embraced. Though please do not mistake it for discomfort.”

He wanted to ensure you would be as comfortable as possible the first time, like Xiao, he also lets you maneuver him as you like

Taking note of how and where you place him for next time

Don’t worry, it is impossible for Zhongli to forget any detail, even the reddening of your cheeks as he shifts closer.

He usually prefers to have his front pressed against your back, he works your hair, if it is long in a way that is comfortable for you and unbothersome to him if you are around his height or miraculously taller

If you are shorter this is no issue, he snuggles his nose into your hair all the same

Sometimes, if you cuddle after your return from work, he used his hand to massage your back and shoulders, even rub your hips if he must

If you are really sore or in pain, he will flip himself on top of you and give you one of the best massages you have ever recieved.

Seriously, what doesn’t he know how to do

If You are in need of comfort that day, he nuzzles his warm lips against your ear and gently kisses the rim before whispering, in his deep and calm voice gentle reassurances and praises, rubbing your tummy, thighs or breasts if you are okay with it

Fear not though, it is for comfort, he doesn’t mean anything else by it, if you ask for it he will do

If you have insomnia, worry not. Zhongli has the most comforting and calm voice you can find

He will gladly tell you a story, or perhaps hum gently to you

No matter how long it is you nap while holding him, it will be the most comfortable sleep you have ever recieved

As for the Geo Archon, let’s say your other side of the bed will not be empty for a millennia to come

Kaeya:

It was neither you nor him who asked for cuddles, nor was it planned

He had come over one day to spend some time with you, wet your whistles and chat

He noticed you getting cozy on the couch and chugged down his wine before casually making his way over

Kaeya would kick off his shoes, his coat and anything uncomfortable for cuddles before crawling in behind you

“Kaeya what are you-”

“Shhh, go on. Continue what you were saying~”

He would hover over you momentarily , slipping an arm under the small of your back before flipping you two over so he was laying on the couch with your body on top of his, your size mattered not to him

Though if you were shorter, he would tease you every now and then about how tiny your frame is in his bigger one

Simply giving you a toothy grin when you punch his arm playfully

He usually cuddles you this way, an arm around your waist, with one hand casually behind his head as he gazes down at you

If you want kisses Kaeya will demand you come and steal them from him, adoring as you come up with small timidness to peck his lips before he uses the hand behind his head to keep you there

If in one of these occasions you do not bother to ask and just press your lips against his with full confidence, Kaeya will chuckle to mask his flusteredness

“Someone is feeling awfully bold today I take it?”

If you need him to cuddle you for the purpose of comfort from your emotions, the smug and teasing act drops, and he cradles you on top of him like a baby

He will only switch it up and have you face him sideways if he feels you require a feeling of tender safety and comfort

Kaeya gently caresses your sides and gives your head a massage with his fingers before using one to come back around and shush you

He pulls away the finger to gently kiss your lips

On comfort needing days he is slow, gentle and passionate with his kisses, they are usually longer, almost like making out without the sexual neediness of it as he uses his hands to touch you wherever you want, knowing your senses are more sensitive at this time

He takes advantage of this to make you feel as cared for and loved as possible

Cuddling you has made the lonliness in his heart go away, and overtime he even cuts down on the drinking a little

When his kisses are not for comfort but merely just to kiss you, they are deep, secure but soft, a direct and strong, unwavering statement that he is yours and you are his

Diluc:

Diluc is also similar to Xiao in where it takes him a little bit to get comfortable to do such intimate things

Though rest assured, once you start, he will never not cuddle you when he gets the chance

Holding you close reminds him of the times his father snuggled him to sleep, when he wandered into Crepus’s room after a nightmare, holding a pillow as he asked to sleepover

Receiving a chuckle from the older Ragnvindr before crawling in for cuddles

So every now and then, he will like to be the little spoon; weather his head is on your chest, his body half on yours half on the bed, or in a spooning position

It is both comforting and nostalgic, the memories bring no pain

Only pure comfort and love

If it is a day when you need his warm arms to hold you, protect you from the bothersome emotions that have troubled you today

Diluc is quick to leave his desk and shed his coat, already undressing down to his undershirt and trousers for you

He pulls you close, facing you as he presses the side of your face against his chest, letting you nuzzle into it as much as you want

You two are sort of to the side though not fully, just enough to where the free use of both arms is still available

Diluc usually has his hair tied up in a messy bun since it is thick and he does not want it to bother you if it is you behind him tonight

His kisses are gentle, quick and multiple strings of repeated pecks, though long enough to show you he loves you

On days where he feels more romantic, they will be long, slow and deep

His tongue gently brushing your bottom lip every now and then, hands holding your hips or butt comfortably, it always ends with a few playful pecks

Diluc is truly a blessing from Celestia to have on cloudy, rainy or cold days. His warmth never fails to send you to a comfortable slumber

3K notes · View notes

natashaslesbian · 6 months

Text

Sleepy Bear

Summary: Natasha finds an unusual way to help you sleep

Word Count: 1.1k

Parings (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

Warnings: none I believe :))

————

You had no idea how long your girlfriend had been doing this for you. Sleep had never come easy to you, only did you get a rest when your exhaustion would force your body to shut down. Your thoughts leave you restless each night, the anxiety had always been there. Your mom started you in therapy when you were 7, the nightmares should have stopped by then. She tired everything, your mother, each week was a new medication. Your dad on the other hand, he couldn’t have cared less. It was him who marched you into the hospital demanding they scanned your ‘daft brain’ as he put it. There was nothing to be found. Years of therapy only brought the diagnosis of anxiety, much to the disappointment of your father. Dr Grey was a nice lady, but she couldn’t quite solve your problems. You were too young to put your anxiety into words, you just knew it made you too scared to sleep. You stopped therapy after your mom died and your dad refused to pay, you were left to your own devices.

You met Natasha 2 years ago at the coffee shop you work at. She fell head over heels the second she laid her eyes on you, not that she’d ever tell you that. You had your eyes on her too, it took you months to realise that she was purposely going out of her way to visit the shop multiple times a week. It started with lasting looks and then lingering touches when you passed the redhead her iced caramel oat milk latte. Soon you were slipping her extra cookies and then one day she slipped you her number, you never looked back after that day. After a few months you finally let Natasha come over to your apartment, she was horrified at the state you were living in, sleep was the last of your worries. Your dad kicked you out after you told him you were gay, you took what you could and found the cheapest little studio available. The paint was chipped all over, the cooker didn’t work and you were on the verge of eviction. The widow was desperate to move you into the compound, despite your discomfort at the idea. Eventually you agreed to take residence in one of the spare rooms, and surprisingly you settled in straight away. Your life fell back on track after that and you and Natasha had grown closer and stronger than ever, you even shared a room now, Natasha had to move the ring in her bedside draw to Clint’s room.

A slightly sharp corner had you stirring slightly, the assassin quick to flash you a worried glance. You settled again straight away, rolling your face into the cold window. The day you had finally told Natasha about your anxiety was a relief, you cried for hours that wednesday. Since your mother, no one had been so kind. You were so afraid she would run a mile, but she sat with you for all those hours, just holding you. Nat promised to spend every sleepless night with you, lord knows she had her own problems when it came to sleep, but you somehow found comfort in each others restless nights. Often you would take turns in reading to each other, some nights you would go for a stroll around the grounds of the compound. But your favourite form of medicine was the car. Natasha would wrap you up in her fluffy blanket and strap you snug into the passenger seat, the gentle hum and sway of the motor would eventually lull you into a slumber. It took months for your girlfriend to convince you to even try the idea, you hated it at first, what did she think you were, a baby? “I know you’re not an actual baby, but your my baby” she would say “let me take care of you” how she even thought of the plan was a mystery to you and you definitely didn’t want to admit it was working.

Natasha pulled into the 24 hour gas station, the car coming to a scratchy stop. “Mm, Tasha?” You mumbled, half asleep still. “I’m here sweetheart, I just need to get some gas” she said “would you like some snacks? Or do you wanna sleep a little longer?” Your belly rumbled right on cue “choccy biscuit” maybe you were still a baby at heart, “one pack of chocolate biscuits coming right up” the beautiful red head said, oh how you thought her locks were just gorgeous. “You’re so pretty” you whispered, eyes only half open “thank you baby” Natasha laid a kiss on your warm lips and you couldn’t stop the little squeal that escaped you. She wasn’t gone long enough for you to miss her, considering you continued to doze in her absence. You heard the familiar commotion of your girlfriend climbing back into the drivers seat, you peeled your eyes open to give her a sleepy smile “here you go sleepy bear” your favourite biscuits were deposited into your lap and you whispered a small thanks.

You contently nibbled for the 45 minute journey back to the compound, while Natasha quietly sang along to whatever trash was on the late night radio, you always thought they played the worse songs during the early hours of the morning. A quick glance at the clock told you it was 2:36am, Natasha had been driving you to sleep for over an hour, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for you. “I love you” you said, breaking the silence “I love you too y/n” Natasha replied, a bit unsure at why you were suddenly all mushy. “No” you continued “I really love you” a red light gave Nat the chance to flash you another worried look, she softened when you saw your eyes glistening back at her, and the smile engraved on your face “you’re welcome baby girl” you swear she could read your mind. With the conversation at a happy standstill you decided to close your eyes again, just for a little nap until you were home.

When you stirred again, the rough car seat had become your plush mattress and your head was laying comfortably on your pillow. It quickly became Natasha’s as she climbed into bed with you “can I have my own pillow sleepy?” She giggled “no” you sighed, carrying the sound to the end of your breath “it smells like you” you mumbled “but I’m right here?” The widow kindly shot back “oh yeah” you said, eyes still tightly shut, you still failed to roll back over though. “You’re not gonna move are you?” Natasha said, you shook your head against her arm and she didn’t hesitate to haul you up into lap, her arms wrapped tightly around your waist and your head perfectly slotted into the crook of her neck. “Sweet dreams y/n” Natasha wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep that ring locked away.

————

I wrote this when I couldn’t sleep and I almost cried

-Astara

#marvel #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel fic #nat x reader #avengers #fluff #insomia #wlw

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mayearies · 9 months

Text

✰ RECORD BOY

miles morales loves music but he loves you more. genre: fluff

warnings: rio and me are married (correction: every person with the last name 'morales' is married to me) a/n: dont come at me yes i know his birthday was a week ago but i had this idea and i just 😭 i had to write it plus i didnt give him a proper happy birthday so 😢 pretend i posted this on his actual birthday ALSO RIO CONTENT YAYAAYAYAY

one of maye's personal favorites :D

e1610 miles had been your boyfriend for a while, and today was his special day. you contemplated for a while what your gift would be for him. he was the best you've ever had. of course he deserved the best gift ever. sooner or later, the answer was given to you.

—you politely knocked on the door of the morales household with a box wrapped in wrapping paper and tied with a bow. specifically black and red, cause y'know. rio opened the door and a smile lit up on her face. not like the sarcastic one she had when she first met you.

"hi, hun. you here for miles?"

as you stepped in, the room smelled of vanilla and ink? weird combo, yeah? "mhm, just wanted to swing by and say a quick 'happy birthday' to him."

"oh, that's sweet. he's in his room. ¿quieres un cupcake?" "oh! n-no, gracias."

considering how often you visited miles, you tended to pick up some spanish from his mom, which she gladly taught you. rio treated you like you were a close friend, which made miles happy to say the least. "i see your spanish has improved."

"yeah, thanks ms. morales." "of course! you're special person in my son's life, i owe it to you."

♡ well, you thought that was a little too high of a praise. it felt like the morales' were givers. like if someone were to do something for them which they said was small or no big deal, they would take it to an extent. it's something you would think about time to time. nonetheless, they were grateful of how trusting you were.

you pushed the cracked door of miles' room and found him where he always was—at his desk drawing in his sketchbook with his headphones on, humming along. you wonder how hard you fell for him when you first met.

you tapped his shoulder lightly, disturbing his quote on quote singing, he smiled brightly when he saw you. "hey, love."

he engulfed you into a big hug. his shirt was cozy and he smelled sweet. "baby! you came!"

"of course i did! how could i miss your birthday?" "you missed valentines day-" "hush."

miles clearly eyed the box as you asked him how he was doing. he gave short answers and sometimes ask you to repeat what you said. you sighed with a playful smile, "you wanna know what's in the present, don't you?"

"yes pleaseee."

you two sat on his bed and miles gently untied the bow and ripped the wrapping paper. the look on his face once he saw what was inside was nothing short of surprise. you smiled as he looked over to you with a shocked face. "you're serious?"

"uh huh. happy birthday, spidey."

♡ you went down to the record store and bought roughly around half a hundred worth of albums. of course knowing miles loves music basically to death, you knew all of his favorite artists. tyler the creator, brent faiyaz, pinkpantheress, bryson tiller, sza, to name a few. you had to get him albums for his record player.

miles sighed and changed his tone into somewhat more whiney as he put his head on you lap. "noo, don't do this to me, amor. i can't accept these."

"too bad, accept them." "but i don't even use my record player anymore! i know you are not out here buying me $20 albums on vinyl, ma." "it's fine, i'll make back the money. and let's put that record player to good use, yeah?" "... god, i love you and your persistence. makes you hotter in my opinion." "that's cause i know what you like."

♡ you took him to the rooftop and danced with him until sunset where you just sang songs together. it was the best birthday miles had so far, spending it with his favorite person. that person used to be a stranger.

"happy birthday, my record boy♡"

#miles morales #miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales blurbs #earth 1610 miles morales #miles morales 1610 #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #1610 miles x reader #earth 1610 #miles 1610 #miles morales imagine #miles morales spider man #miles morales fic

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dreamwritesimagines · 10 months

Text

Garden of Secrets [31] - Chamomile

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: A ballroom can be a place of reconciliation.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of trauma and violence.

Word Count: 4400

Series Masterlist

The following days after that night were interesting.

Granted things were still quite tense between you two, but perhaps because now you knew that neither of you wanted to walk away from this no matter how terrible that fight had been, there was also an unspoken agreement of peace.

You passed by the hallway, fixing your gloves as you went downstairs and as soon as you reached the foyer, you saw Benedict entering the house.

“Husband,” you greeted him in a half joking manner as you walked past him, ignoring the way your heart skipped a beat.

“Wife,” he joked back, making you bite down on your smile but you stopped dead on your tracks as the thought hit you, and you turned around.

“Benedict wait,” you said, making him stop at the bottom of the stairs before he turned around as well to look at you.

“Yes?”

“We have the Coleshill ball tonight,” you said. “Don’t forget.”

“I haven’t,” he assured you. “At eight, I know. Are we going together?”

“I’ll be back before evening,” you said, shifting your weight. “So we can.”

He nodded and you cleared your throat, motioning at him.

“I mean if it’s fine with you, that is.”

“It’s fine—of course it’s fine,” he said quickly. “I just asked because you’re leaving, so…”

“To my uncle’s,” you replied and offered him a small smile. “Any luck with Lottie?”

“Not at all,” he said with a sigh. “And you?”

“I went there yesterday, she just sent a maid downstairs to tell me she was ill so she ‘couldn’t talk to me’,” you used air quotes and Benedict hummed.

“Same here,” he said. “Anthony says he saw her for a moment, she went to the drawing room to tell him she didn’t want to talk to him, and went straight back to her room.”

“So she’s not speaking to any of us,” you clicked her tongue. “Great. I’ll talk to her during tonight’s ball, it’s fine.”

“You sound confident.”

“I try,” you murmured. “But if I get to talk to her, I’ll tell her the truth. Just so you know.”

“I doubt we have much of a choice on that, she already knows the general idea,” he commented and you shifted your weight.

“Sorry about that,” you said. “I really didn’t know she was there. I was arguing with Josie, and…”

“Not your fault,” he said, waving a hand in the air. “Don’t worry about it. And Josie?”

“She’ll come around,” you said. “By the way, if she knows then Bess knows as well. And probably Andrew.”

“Alright,” he said and cleared his throat. “I was thinking maybe I should talk to Josie.”

Your eyes widened. “What?” you asked. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“I think she’d want an explanation about this whole thing.”

“Josie isn’t the type to listen to explanations.”

“I’ll try anyway,” he said and thought for a moment. “I should probably try it with a body armor though.”

“She’s not going to stab you,” you said, and shook your head. “She’s not. She knows better.”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

“Both,” you muttered and took a deep breath. “Just—you know. It’ll be fine but be careful.”

“I will.”

“Also make sure there are witnesses around but it’ll be fine,” you added and he pulled his brows together.

“You are terrible at assuring people.”

“I’m working on it,” you admitted and clapped your hands together, offering him a smile. “It’ll be fine, hooray!”

He paused for a moment and blinked a couple of times, then nodded quite enthusiastically.

“Baby steps,” he said as if trying to encourage you. “We’ll get you there.”

You grimaced, making him chuckle and you both stared at each other for a moment, then you frowned, trying to snap out of it.

“Anyway, I’d better go.”

“Right,” Benedict said, shaking his head slightly. “See you when you come back.”

“Sure thing,” you said and you walked out of the house, then approached the carriage as the coachman opened the door for you.

“Where to, ma’am?”

“My uncle’s house,” you said and got in the carriage. “Thank you.”

When you got to your uncle’s house, there was no sign of Teddy or your aunt, and you looked around, then made your way to the closed door of your uncle’s study to knock on it.

“Come in!” he called out and you opened the door to peek your head in.

“Good morning uncle.”

“Oh my Clover is here!” he smiled and got up from his seat. You walked to him to hug him with a laugh.

“Were you busy?”

“Not at all, just going over…” he motioned at his desk. “Never mind. Your aunt and Teddy are outside at the park.”

“Oh that’s alright,” you said. “I was actually hoping I could talk to you?”

“Of course, sit down, sit down!” he said and called for the maid passing by the door, then asked her for some cookies and tea. You sat down on the sofa and he came to take his place on the armchair.

“To what do I owe this wonderful surprise?”

“I need your wisdom.”

“It’s at your service,” he joked as the maid walked in, carrying a tray.

“Thank you,” you said as she placed the cookies and tea on the small coffee table, then curtsied and left the room. You took a sip of your tea and leaned back.

“Any other letters?”

“None,” he said. “As I’ve told you.”

“That’s a relief at least.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” he assured you. “Now, what do you need my wisdom for?”

You looked down at the tea cup in your hand, then raised your glances.

“You and auntie have been married for a long time,” you started. “And auntie says you two fell in love after your first dance.”

“We did,” he said with a smile. “I thought I was dreaming when I first saw her.”

You licked your lips. “And you’re…you still love each other.”

“We do.”

“So you’ve never had a fight or anything right?”

He tilted his head. “Clover, what is this about?”

You took a deep breath, then cleared your throat.

“Hypothetically speaking,” you started. “Let’s say you and auntie had a fight and hypothetically it was a big fight and hypothetically you said things.”

“A lot of hypotheticals.”

“I woke up curious,” you replied and he chuckled.

“Is everything alright between you and Benedict?”

“Sure,” you said. “So? What would you do if that happened?”

He reached out to grab a cookie, then hummed.

“To answer your first question, we did have fights, me and your aunt,” he said and you frowned.

“You have the perfect marriage.”

“Perfect marriages don’t just happen, Clover,” he said. “Especially at the start of the said marriage. Yes we were in love, we still are but it doesn’t mean we didn’t have arguments. Every couple is bound to have them sooner or later.”

“Why did you have a fight?”

“Well, marriage is a huge change in one’s life. Takes a bit of time to get used to,” he said. “The important thing is to never forget how much you love the person you’re married to, no matter what you’re fighting over.”

You pressed your lips together and he gave you a small smile.

“How bad was the fight?”

“I uh—I said things,” you admitted and paused for a moment. “Not necessarily nice things.”

“Ah,” he said. “An apology could work, perhaps?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Did you try?”

“…No,” you said after a beat and sat up straighter. “I have another question.”

“Ask away dear.”

“How did you know?” you asked. “That you were in love with auntie?”

He thought for a couple of seconds, then shrugged his shoulders.

“I suppose I realized that no one else but her made me happier,” he said. “When I imagined my future, anything else was a detail as long as she was there. She was my first thought as I woke up and last thought as I went to sleep and I couldn’t…I couldn’t imagine a scenario where I didn’t have her in my life.”

You blinked a couple of times; the idea was way too familiar to you. You swallowed thickly, then let out a huff of breath and buried your palms into your eyes.

“He loves you,” he said, making you lower your hands. “Anyone could see that. A fight won’t change things as long as you two talk about what happened.”

“That’s not my strongest suit,” you murmured and he chuckled.

“No harm in trying.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Perhaps because it is easy?” he asked. “If you’re wondering the key to a good marriage, it’s knowing when to listen and when to apologize.”

You slipped a little on the sofa and hummed.

“What if I try to apologize and he doesn’t want to hear it?”

“No offense Clover but out of the two of you, I’d say it’s you who doesn’t want to hear apologies and not him.”

You pouted your lips.

“That’s not…” you started to protest, then let out a noise of agreement and shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah, you might be right about that.”

Coleshill Ball was an absolute blast. Lord Easton had apparently decided to attend along with Lucy and Henry, and he was instantly surrounded by many people trying to talk to him. He had only had a couple of seconds to greet you and Benedict before his many admirers started talking over each other, eager to have a conversation with him. The orchestra was very talented as well, so everyone seemed to be having fun, dancing and socializing.

Everyone except you, Benedict and Anthony. The three of you found yourselves huddled in the corner of the room while Lottie adamantly ignored you, busy with her conversation with Lord Finney after their dance. Lord Finney hadn’t stopped eyeing Lottie with a small smirk you didn’t like since the end of their dance, and you could swear if you tried to pass by Anthony’s eyesight, you would have dropped dead from a thousand invisible daggers he was glaring at Lord Finney whereas Benedict looked nearly impatient, biting inside his cheek.

“Can I stab him?” you asked to no one in particular and both Benedict and Anthony answered at the same time.

“No.”

“Yes.”

You looked up at Benedict. “The head of the family said yes.”

“Now you want to listen to someone?” he asked you. “Not to mention him of all people? You don’t even like him.”

“I’m standing right here Ben.”

“She doesn’t like you Anthony,” Benedict deadpanned without so much as sparing him a glance and you made a face.

“I have no idea what you speak of,” you mused. “I’ve been nothing but nice to Anthony.”

Anthony leaned forward to look at you around Benedict’s arm, a look of disbelief etched in his features. “This is you being nice?”

“You’re standing here alive and well, so yes.”

Benedict suppressed a laugh, and you took a deep breath, pursing your lips.

“You know what, that’s enough,” you said. “The next dance will not start for a half an hour, I’ll go there and talk to her.”

“And Finney?”

“I’ll threaten him,” you said and Benedict nodded.

“Want me to come with you?”

“I can intimidate people by myself Benedict, have some faith,” you told him and walked away from them to approach Lottie and Lord Finney.

“Lottie,” you said as you reached them. “Good evening.”

She stole a look at you, pouting. “Good evening to you too Mrs. Bridgerton.”

“…Fair enough,” you muttered and nodded in Finney’s direction. “Leave us.”

“Mrs. Bridgerton—”

You turned to him, your eyes narrowing into a cold glare as your voice lowered into a growl.

“I said leave.”

A look of intimidation crossed his eyes and he swallowed thickly, then took a step back and bowed his head before walking away from you both.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Lottie said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“I’m not interested in being nice,” you commented and gave her a small smile. “Can we talk Lottie? Please?”

Her brows furrowed for a moment, that pout still apparent on her lips.

“Five minutes is all I ask,” you said. “I’d like to explain myself if you’d let me.”

She thought for a moment, then heaved a sigh.

“Fine.”

“Great,” you said, a smile lighting up your face, “Let’s go outside.”

She followed you out of the ballroom and you both stepped outside to the garden. Thankfully there weren’t people around which was no wonder considering how fun the ball was inside, so you approached the nearest bench and sat down, Lottie taking her spot next to you.

“So?” she asked. “If you’re going to tell me any more lies—”

“I’m not,” you cut her off and shook your head. “I’m not going to lie to you, and I’m sorry that I did. I really am.”

That seemed to take her by surprise and she frowned slightly.

“And I know you heard my and Josie’s argument but I don’t think of you gullible or anything, it was just something I said because I was frustrated with Josie and the whole thing. I hope you know that.”

She nodded and thought for a moment.

“Tell me everything,” she said. “From the very beginning.”

So you did. If anything, it was such a relief that you felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, and when you were finished a silence fell upon you both before Lottie let out a breath.

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Exactly. You know what the ton thinks of me, they say Benedict married me because I trapped him or lured him away from you, or I planned it—”

“That’s not true.”

“And if they thought a scandal happened, you know what they would say about me,” you said. “So we told no one. The only reason we told Anthony was because he—he needed to know, considering everything. As I said, even my family doesn’t know.”

“Did you not trust me?”

“That’s not the reason,” you shook your head. “Lottie, you were so happy for us. I just couldn’t…I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint you and I’m sure Benedict feels the same.”

“You could never disappoint me,” she said. “I was just—I was sad.”

“I know.”

She nibbled on her lip and took a deep breath.

“Well,” she said. “At least it’s a relief that it wasn’t all a lie.”

“What?”

“Benedict and you have a love marriage.”

You raised your brows. “Uh, Lottie—”

“You two got married because you were caught kissing.”

“That’s lust Lottie, not love,” you said in a haste and she rolled her eyes at you.

“You honestly can’t see how he looks at you?” she asked. “Or how you look at him?”

Your heart skipped a beat and you sat up straighter. “Well because we had to pretend to be in love—”

“No one is that good of a pretender,” she said. “Not even you. And I’ve known Benedict for a long time, so I’d be able to tell if he were in fact pretending. It’s alright if you can’t see it yet, but I will be here to say I told you so when you finally realize that it is in fact a love marriage.”

You tried to swallow the nervous lump in your throat and averted your glances.

“Benedict and I are…” you trailed off. “We’re bound.”

“By marriage?”

“By fate.”

“By your hearts as well,” she pointed out and smiled at you, then pulled you into a hug. You hugged her back, and heaved a sigh when she pulled back.

“I’d better go, otherwise my next dance partner will assume I’m avoiding him,” she sighed and stood up. “Are you coming?”

“I think I’ll get some fresh air, it helps me think,” you said. “But I could also intimidate your next dance partner if you’d like.”

“I don’t wish to be rude,” she told you with a giggle and you saw Anthony stepping out of the house, making you tilt your head. Lottie turned around as he made his way to you.

“Charlotte, can we—?”

“No because I’m still angry at you,” Lottie said. “And I’m angry at Benny too, make sure to tell him that please.”

You pressed your lips together to contain your laughter at Anthony’s puzzled expression, but before he could say anything, Lottie stuck her nose in the air and walked past him to go back into the house. Anthony threw his head back and heaved a sigh while you leaned back, resting your elbows on the back of the bench.

“She forgave you?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yeah.”

“And she refuses to talk to me.”

“I have a more charming personality than you do.”

“Not really,” he said. “I mean just because your marriage is turbulent, doesn’t mean you should go around making others’ the same as well.”

You pulled your brows together in confusion. “You’re not married, in case it has escaped your notice.”

“I could’ve been,” he pointed out, “if I could get some spare time from the string of scandals you all throw at me. First you and Benedict, then Daphne and Simon, and now Colin wants to marry Miss Marina.”

“Wait really?” you asked. “It feels like yesterday he was getting all nervous to even talk to her. They grow up so fast.”

“Colin is older than you, Y/N.”

“That’s irrelevant,” you said and he came to sit beside you.

“So yeah, if everyone could stop for a moment to let me at least court Charlotte without getting in the way, it would be much appreciated.”

You smiled slightly and shrugged your shoulders.

“Patience is a virtue they say,” you said. “Perhaps waiting patiently will teach you a valuable lesson in the meantime.”

He scoffed. “Have you ever waited patiently for anything?”

“I’ve been waiting patiently for this conversation to end ever since you opened your mouth,” you retorted and rolled your eyes. “But if anything, she wants to marry you too.”

He turned to you, hope shining in his eyes. “She said that?”

“She mentioned it, yes,” you said. “So until she decides to forgive you, send her flowers, proclaim your undying love on a bent knee, whatever it is that in love people do.”

He nodded slowly, then cleared his throat.

“Speaking of that,” he said. “Is everything okay between Benedict and you?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you said and stole a glance at him. “What did he tell you?”

“He mentioned that you two had an argument but judging by the tortured look on his face for the last weeks up until a couple of days ago, I’d say it’s something more than a simple argument.”

You bit on your nail, keeping your gaze on the house.

“I’m not very pleasant when I’m angry,” you said and he raised his brows.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re not very pleasant when you’re not angry either,” he stated and you turned your head to make a face at him.

“I would say I’m more pleasant than you but let’s be honest, it’s not like you’re setting a high standard there” you told him, making his lips twitch in amusement.

“Fair enough,” he said. “But just so you know; whatever it is that is bothering you, whatever happened between you and Benedict, if my help is needed in any way it’s at your service.”

You blinked a couple of times, furrowing your brows.

“…Why?”

“Because you’re family.”

A tentative smile curled your lips and your eyes darted over his face to get a hint of insincerity, but it wasn’t there.

“Thank you,” you mumbled after a pause and he shook his head.

“Don’t mention it,” he said and you saw Benedict stepping outside. Anthony turned to look at him, then stood up.

“I’ll try my chances to talk to Charlotte,” he said and walked away from you, passing by Benedict to get in the house. Benedict put his hands in his pockets and approached you.

“Hello there.”

“Hello,” you said and stuck your nose in the air in an exaggerated smug manner. “Lottie forgave me.”

He tilted his head. “Really?”

“Yes but she’s still angry at you and Anthony,” you said and he hummed.

“That explains why she glared at me when she got back in the ballroom just now.”

You grinned. “I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“I appreciate that,” he said with a chuckle and motioned at the bench. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” you said and he sat beside you, making you bite down on your lip, stealing a look at him.

“Ben?”

“Hm?”

“I’m…” you paused for a moment, your heart climbing up to your throat in nervousness, making you take a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.”

A look of surprise crossed his face and you sat up straighter, turning to see him better.

“I don’t…I don’t really pay attention to the words I say when I’m angry, which is no excuse but—I’m working on it,” you said, nodding as if trying to encourage yourself. “And I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean any of that.”

A soft light appeared in his eyes and he nodded.

“Your apology is heard and accepted,” he quoted you, making you frown in doubt.

“That easily?”

“Mm hm,” he said. “That easily.”

“I would’ve made me suffer more.”

“Good thing we’re complete opposites then,” he said and you bit back a smile.

“Good thing for me at the very least,” you commented as the beginning notes of the orchestra’s dance tune reached your ears. Benedict stole a look at you.

“Do you want to dance?”

“I don’t feel like going back inside,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “Too crowded.”

“Who said we needed to go back inside?” he asked as he stood up to offer his hand. A scoff of laughter escaped from your mouth, and your eyes went from his hand up to his face to see whether he was jesting or not. That playful lopsided grin curled his lips as you placed your hand in his, and he pulled you up to your feet.

“You’re not serious.”

“Oh I absolutely am,” he said as he entwined his fingers with yours and you let him twirl you before he pulled you closer, a giggle climbing up your throat despite you trying to repress it.

You two were standing much closer than this dance -or any dance- required, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You rested a hand on his broad chest, feeling the thrumming of his heart underneath your fingertips and he sneaked an arm around your waist, burying his nose into your hair while you two swayed slowly with the tune.

“I missed this,” Benedict murmured into your hair and you closed your eyes for a moment, inhaling his pleasant scent as discreetly as you could, all your senses full of him.

“Dancing?”

“Holding you,” he said softly and you smiled, opening your eyes but not pulling back.

“It’s peaceful,” you whispered and he hummed, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb, the simple gesture making your stomach do a happy flip.

“It is.”

“I missed it too,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “It’s been—”

“Hey lovebirds!” Henry’s voice cut through you and you pulled back, both you and Benedict turning to look at him. Lucy elbowed Henry.

“I told you not to interrupt!”

“They can continue that later on,” Henry said as you felt your cheeks burn, shifting your weight before you managed to smile at them.

“Hello.”

“We have a party to catch, come on,” Henry held up an envelope. “Apparently Jane felt like throwing a celebration for the sake of it all of a sudden, Thomas just sent word. You’re both invited as well.”

“Everyone is already there,” Lucy added and Henry grinned.

“Gordon is coming as well—we’ll go get the carriage,” he said and they both walked away from you. Benedict heaved a sigh.

“I don’t think—” you paused for a moment. “I think I’ll skip this one but you should go.”

“Oh no, I don’t have to be there,” he said in a haste and you smiled slightly.

“Benedict,” you said. “Go have fun, it’s been a while. I would’ve come with if it were any other time, but I think I should try to make things better between Lottie and Anthony—don’t tell him I said that.”

He pulled his brows together. “Sorry, you’ll try to make things better between them?”

“Yes.”

“Who are you and what did you do to my wife?”

Your heart skipped a beat at that but you bit back a smile, then heaved a sigh.

“What can I say? I’m very compassionate.”

He shot you a playful look before pointing at the house with his thumb. “Was there something in the lemonade?”

“I feel responsible,” you said. “And I don’t know, he’s—he’s family, so I should just at least try to patch things between them. Put in a good word and such.”

That made him smile before he cleared his throat.

“I don’t have to go, it’s just some party,” he insisted. “I’ll help you.”

“Lottie isn’t talking to you either, I doubt you’d be much of a help,” you reminded him and let out a laugh. “Go. I swear this is not me setting you up for…for a fight in the morning. I’ll make things better between those two and then go home. I doubt I’ll be able to talk to you when we go into that ballroom anyway, no reason for you to come with.”

He thought for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” you said. “Go have fun. I’ll come with you to the other one, I promise.”

He looked at you as if trying to read your mind and took a deep breath.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll be home early, okay? Definitely before you go to sleep.”

“Alright,” you said. “Well I have a very stubborn friend to convince, so if you’ll excuse me...”

He smiled softly, then held your hand to place a kiss on the back of it, making your heartbeat faster.

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours then.”

“Deal,” you said, your cheeks still burning. “Have fun, give everyone my regards.”

“Good luck with those two,” he said, nodding in the direction of the house before walking away from you and you heaved a sigh, then licked your lips.

“Alright,” you muttered, painfully aware of the smile on your face as you made your way to the house. “This should be interesting.”

Chapter 32

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

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katiexpunk · 6 months

Text

Dream of Me | Pairing Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: In the dark of the night, temptation beckons. You make a silent vow to share your secret with Joel when he wakes tomorrow, but for now, you find yourself unable to resist this opportunity, much like the pulse between your thighs. Rating: 18+ Minors DNI | W/C: ~2.4K Warnings: Joel isn't aware he is fucking reader, so I'm labeling this as non-con, although I could also make a case that this is dub-con. Somnophilia. Unprotected P in V. Creampie. Sleeping bag sex. It’s basically PWP. There is an age gap, but it's not specified (make it your own). No use of Y/N, no use of daddy. For immersability, the reader has no major physical descriptions/graphic is for vibe purposes only. A/N: April 2024 Update: ya'll ever go back and read some of your first stories and cringe? Yeah, well I did. I decided this one needed some love, so I've added in about an extra 1k. As a bonus surprise, I've continued this story. How will Joel react when he finds out what he's done? Part 2 is linked below. Masterlist | Notifications | Read on AO3

In the shadowed quiet of the night, a soft moan threads through the stillness, stirring you from the depths of sleep. It's a moment suspended in time, where the fog of unconsciousness slowly lifts, allowing you to piece together the unexpected reality you've found yourself in.

Pressed closely against you is Joel, his presence unmistakable. The breadth of his frame envelopes your back, his thick arms encircling your waist. You're both lying on your side, entwined in a way that suggests intimacy, yet underlined with a hint of awkwardness that comes from unintended closeness.

You and Joel have been sharing a sleeping bag for the past couple of weeks since yours decided to grow legs and walk off to who the fuck knows where.

It’s mid-April, and while your skin is sun warm during the day, the nights are a different story. Once the sun dips below the horizon and the embers of the fire fade, you crave a warmth only he can seem to provide. Skin on skin, bodies pinned together under the nylon.

If you had it your way, you’d go to sleep in nothing but your bra and underwear, but Joel was quick to squash that idea.

“You’re asking for trouble, sweetheart.”

“Oh come on, Joel. It’s no different than a swimsuit.”

“The fuck it is, it’s bad enough that we have to share a bag, can’t have you half-naked on top of it.”

“Fine,” you sigh.

“Fine.” He thought that was the end of it, until —

“Can you at least take off your jeans? They’re dirty.”

It took some negotiation on that one, but he finally came around. Joel knows that you have a crush on him, but he’s never acted on it and swears to himself that he never will. You deserve more, better, anything but the man he’s become. But god, you make it fucking hard. Hard for him to behave, hard for him to keep his hands to himself, but above all, you just make him hard.

He’s usually good about finding time, even if it’s just minutes, to take care of himself. But it’s been over a week, and the war he rages with his cock every night is one he’s starting to lose. Each sunset ushers in another round of relentless conflict, drawing him closer and closer to the edge of temptation.

In the day it’s easy to lock away the thoughts of all the things he’d like to do to you under lock and key in his mind, to focus on the tasks at hand, to focus on keeping you safe, keeping you alive.

And it works, because you think all he sees you as is something delicate and fragile, innocent, but his cock hard at your back has you feeling anything but.

His fingers dig into the meat of your hips and clench around your pelvis. He’s not putting much weight into it, but his hold is still strong enough to leave imprints on your skin.

A deep groan vibrates through his chest, followed by a needy whine that goes straight to your core. Joel moves closer like he’s trying to absorb you into his body. His weight and the jerky movements of his hips are enough to force your body to roll over onto your belly. His hips start grinding hard against your ass like he’s trying to get deeper, closer.

Another breathy moan weaves itself between a snore and a sentence murmured in half-sleep, your name lingering on the edge of coherence.

Is this really happening right now? You pinch yourself just to be sure.

Joel nuzzles closer to your neck, burying his face in your hair. You feel his breath hot on your back, the warmth of his lips gently parted on your skin. He nibbles at your shoulder, causing a sharp twinge of pain to run through you, straight to your pussy. Your walls clench harder around nothing, and your inner thighs start to feel sticky from your arousal.

He feels so strong lying on top of you like this, just taking whatever pleasure he can from you. You know this is wrong, but it excites you way more than it should, to be used like this without him even knowing. You’re sure that he would be horrified if he knew how he was treating you right now. The thought makes you even wetter.

“Fuck,” you moan, not loud enough to wake him.

It would be so easy to just spread your legs a tiny bit, to reach down and move your panties to the side, to drag the fabric of his underwear down and let him have his way with you.

But that would be wrong, stupid, even.

This is wrong.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing and you know he’ll hate himself for it in the morning, but fuck, you want him so much. Even if he’s not consciously aware of what he’s doing, you can’t help but feel like he wants it to.

The opportunity to feel him like this might never arise again.

The protective, in-control you know isn’t home right now, instead the touch-starved, needy dark passenger you know lives within him has come out to play, and you want so badly to be wrecked by him.

The risks outweigh the benefits, but fuck it —

You slowly shimmy and drag the thin fabric of your panties down to your thighs. If he wakes up you could always play the innocent, pretend that he did all this while you were still sleeping, but you already know you wouldn’t be able to lie to him like that; even if you did, he’d see right through it.

It’s one thing doing this, taking advantage of Joel’s wet dream to satisfy yourself, but you will not lie to him about it. You’ll tell him the truth when he wakes up. You will.

You think you’re going to have to drag Joel’s underwear down, but much to your surprise, you realize he’s wearing the kind with the entrance at the front. Thank fuck for that.

As he continues to grind against you, you reach your hand back and in through the slip in the fabric and feel the soft silk of his skin, the coarse hair that rests at the base of him. You can’t see it, but from the feel of it, you can tell he’s big. So much so that you wonder if he’ll even fit through the opening of the fabric. It takes some doing, but you manage to make it work. You position his cock at a good angle, and feel his precum, all warm and sticky, beading at the tip of him.

It’s a dizzying feeling, to feel his bare cock pressed up against you, so desperate to find a home inside your warm cunt.

You pause, listening for any sign that he’s going to wake at the new sensation. Once you’re confident he’s still in dreamland, you spread your legs and adjust your hips under him, lining his cock up just right with your dripping folds.

The head of his cock only barely manages to slip past your outer lips, searching for that place where the resistance will give in and be replaced with pleasure.

Suddenly it all feels too real, and you have a brief moment of reconsideration. Just as you’re about to find a way to shy away from under him and slip your underwear back on, a deep groan reverberates through his chest. It’s throaty and needy, like his body can sense your hesitation, and is doing everything in its power to convince you to give in.

You can’t help it. You just can’t stop yourself. The sounds he’s making, the way he’s holding onto you like his life depends on it, makes it impossible to deny him, and yourself, much longer.

“Please don’t wake up Joel, please don’t wake up…” you silently whisper before your legs slide to the edges of the sleeping bag, permitting just enough space for you to fully bare your dripping cunt to him.

The new position allows Joel’s hips to move closer to yours and the mushroom tip of his cock slides right up against your wet and waiting hole. It presses in about an inch before he pulls back with a whine. He thrusts a few more times, but every time he never sinks deeper than the first inch.

You gently bow your back, tilting your hips up ever so slightly, and reach your hand back, guiding him in. You know it won’t be hard for him to glide in with how wet you are, all he needs is to find the right position. Using your fingers, you press on the side of his cock, and a second later he’s bottoming out with a quick snap of his hips.

“Joel, Fuck —” you moan, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. The stretch of him is intense. A moan escapes your lips, and you know you’re not going to get a moment to adjust to his size. If he was awake, he might be a bit more considerate, give you a second to accommodate the thickness of him, but he’s not. You muffle your sounds by biting into the flesh on your forearm, willing the subtle taste of salt and dirt to distract you from the dull burn you feel below.

The jerky grinding snaps of his hips return at full force. There’s no finesse to the way he fucks you, no gentleness or soft caresses – he’s using you for his pleasure, blissfully unaware of the bruises he littering all over your shoulders and hips.

Your only function to him right now is to be a tool for his pleasure, to be a hole for him, and you couldn’t be more turned on by the thought, even if you tried.

“Yes Joel, fuck, fuck me like you mean it,” you encourage him softly.

You know he can’t hear you, but the words come naturally, making you feel powerful; like you’ve played some role in getting him to this point. He’s always in control, always on, never letting anything slip. And thank god he is, it’s a necessity of survival, a skill you don’t have. But right now you’re relishing in the fact that you feel like you’ve gotten him to be like this, that you’re the one calling the shots for once.

You’re not just being used, you’re allowing him to use you.

It’s not going to last long. You know that.

Sometimes you hear him jacking off next to you in the middle of the night, but god knows how long it’s been since he’s had the warmth of a pussy.

You start to feel his body tremble and tense. If he were awake right now, you’d hope he’d be cursing your name and trying to hold on until you had come, but he doesn’t. He never slows down and never loosens his grip on you, he just continues to take and take and take.

He slams himself into you for a final time, flooding milky white ropes of his cum inside your walls. He’s deep, every inch of him is inside of you, and the thought of him so deep, holding all of his cum inside of you, causes the coil in your belly to tighten even more. When he’s done he doesn’t roll off you, instead, he goes limp, almost like he’s fallen further into his sleep state.

His cock doesn’t disappear instantly either and that’s what makes you silently curse again. You didn’t get to finish and your pussy is clenching around him desperately. God, you want so badly to come.

His hips still grind against your ass with the aftershocks of his pleasure, providing small pangs of arousal that keep you on the edge, but not enough to get you to where you so desperately want to go. His body is dead weight against you.

Frustrated doesn’t even begin to describe how you are feeling. And to top of off, you’re lightheaded from the lack of oxygen your lungs can take in, and your heart is thrumming in your chest.

You’re so close. So fucking close.

You manage to shift just enough for your hand to find a way to your dripping pussy. You press a couple of fingers to your clit and tilt your hips up, making Joel’s softening, but still semi-hard cock slide deeper into you.

You begin the slow climb towards the cliff of your orgasm, slowly fucking yourself on Joel’s cock and rubbing your clit. It doesn’t feel as great as when he was thrusting into you, but his cum trapped inside you makes the slide of his cock so much more pleasurable against your g-spot. A little bit of him dribbles out with each thoughtless thrust, adding to the wetness that makes your fingers circle easily over your aching bud.

Your mouth once again finds your forearm as you get closer, the perfect gag to muffle your sweet whimpers. Your walls clench tighter around Joel, making him whimper from overstimulation, but you don’t care. He got his, and now it’s your turn.

You work tight circles on your clit and you finally feel the pressure build to a point that it has to release. Your orgasm blossoms inside of you, and you let the undertow of pleasure lull you deeper into the ground, melting under the weight of him.

Seconds turn to minutes, and you feel sleep make a slow creep up into your fucked out muscles. The warmth of Joel still on top of you, the pressure of his body on yours, and his cum slowly dripping out of you, lulls you nearly to sleep.

You’ll tell him tomorrow, you think to yourself, moments before giving in and letting your heavy eyelids fall closed.

But you have a feeling he’ll figure it out for himself.

PART 2

Tagging some authors/moots who have inspired me through your writing or sweet disposition this week, thanks for giving me the horny boost I needed to get some stuff out. @toxicanonymity @josephquinnswhore @sydneyinacoma @strang3lov3 @endlessthxxghts @cavillscurls @fettuccin-e

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#joel miller x female reader #joel miller tlou #somno k!nk #sleeping bag #joel miller fanfic #pedro stories #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #we all love a good one sleeping bag trope #pedrohub

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