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brokebonewritings · 3 days ago

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The Moon’s Petal

Steven Grant x Fem! Reader

Tags/Warnings: 18+, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Falling in Love, Regency Era

Summary: The most interesting match of the season has caught the eye of the ton. The story of Steven Grant falling in love with the Diamond of the Season.

Word Count: 8.2K

A/N: You may notice of shift in writing styles in this piece and it's because I initially wrote this almost 3 years ago haha this is just a warning for that. Also, I think this might be my longest piece to date...I hope you all enjoy! xx

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Dearest Readers,

Even my most dedicated readers will know that this author is prompt to deliver the latest news of society. For those wondering what is in store for this edition, I have the most delightful surprise for you.

Mr. Grant has finally sparked a conversation with several ladies of the ton. One, in which this author believes would be a most auspicious match, was none other than the Diamond of the Season. Although this gentleman has failed to spark any sort of conversation in the past, the laughter heard from the crowd was a delight to any matchmaking mama.

This author wonders if this social season will be much different for the gentleman. One can only assume that Mr. Steven Grant has had a change of mind, and is finally in need of companionship. For now, I shall watch closely to see if any relationship shall develop between this gentleman and one of our most beautiful ladies.

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers,

30 March 1815

“My God,” Steven gawked as he read the rest of the paper. He was never one for such gossip, however this edition made the man more interested than most. It seemed that one conversation had sparked so much gossip between the ladies of the ton.

Looking over at his reflection, he sees Marc shake his head.

You’re an absolute idiot for reading that shit. He could hear Marc say.

“Well I think it is absolutely interesting how we could be the spark of any sort of scandal.” Steven quipped back.

Scandal? Talking to a lady is hardly a scandal. How about when they find out there are three of us in one body. Marc’s comment made Steven sit back in his chair. He never considered having to actually tell someone of their predicament. Not even the most lovely lady he met at the ball the night before.

Her eyes dazzled as he spoke to her about his travels, and his silly nonsense. When she had finally asked him to dance, he happily gave her his arm. Though, their walk through the garden that same evening ended with hushed goodbyes.

Steven dazed about the rest of the day, wondering if he would ever see his lady again. As interested as he was in her, he never quite asked for her name. A mistake he regretted instantly.

Only a few blocks down, you sat in your drawing room with your family and chatted happily about the night before. Your mama seemed most pleased with the amount of calls you were receiving. However, there was one you wanted most of all.

“Darling, you mustn’t stare off like that. It could be seen as impolite.” Your mother stated as she took another sip of her tea.

“Yes, mama.” You replied, though you couldn't help but wonder if that was something he would find impolite. Even as the both of you spoke the prior evening he often stared into the night sky as if he was in a trance.

You could never forget it though, surely he would find you at the next event, and surely he would be the one to ask you to dance. Of course it was never a guarantee, but the feeling in your stomach told you otherwise.

Continuing on with your day, you attended to the gentlemen calls that intrigued your mother. Most of these men just spoke of their interests and what they would want to see in you. This bored you to death. Of course you were a fantastic listener, but it was feeling just a bit tedious at this point.

Toward midday, when there were no more calls, you made your way to the center of town to enjoy the sights of the people passing by. You were escorted by your family, however it was nice to get some fresh air. You often brought your notebook to study other people’s characteristics. Knowing every sort by name.

While strolling with your family, you notice a man on the other side of the street walking briskly. It wasn’t that you were intentionally staring, but you were a bit curious at the hurried behavior of this gentleman. At closer glance you notice it was him. The man you had been swooning and dreaming about the night before.

As he disappears into a small shop, you tug at your father’s sleeve.

“Papa, What is that shop over there?” You ask, with the motive of manipulating your father to go inside and see. He turns his head in the direction you are pointing and chuckles a bit.

“My darling, that is just a stationary shop. I believe it had just opened up about a week ago. Are you in need of new quills?” He asked.

You nod your head when, in fact, you do not need any more stationary items. All you wanted was to see and perhaps speak to the man you strolled with the night before. Your father tasked your oldest brother to escort you into the shop.

Marc hurried into the shop, checking his whereabouts before stepping inside. They had just received word earlier that day that a special visitor would be arriving later that week. Not that his parents were that special of visitors, it was just that he hated having to share his home with others. Even if it was for an afternoon.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when he hears the bells on the door chime. Usually he’s not too curious about who comes in and out, but something compelled him to look around the stand he was staring at. A gentleman and a young woman step inside the shop. He knew the man, but he couldn’t quite remember where he saw the woman.

Turning his head, he catches a glimpse of Steven in the glass. He’s gawking at her in awe. Oh shit.

“Steven, is that the girl from last night?” Marc said quietly.

She’s a Benette?

Marc looks back quickly to confirm she was indeed standing with Lord Howard Benette, the oldest son of the Benette family.

“What’s the big problem? You’ve hunted with Howard multiple times.”

Yes, but… I didn’t know that was his sister

“I’m gonna go talk to him” Marc said, quickly turning his attention towards the man and his supposed sister. Steven did have a point. He danced with the girl all night anyways. There should be no problem talking him up to the brother.

The two were looking at quills when Marc approached them, the girl seemed surprised but the man was delighted to see the other gentleman.

“Mr. Grant! How delightful to see you. What are you doing here in town?” Howard shook his hand as Marc tried to collect his thoughts.

“I could ask you the same, Benette. It’s not everyday you see the Lord walking around.” Marc tried to mimic Steven’s accent, but it was not very good.

“Yes, well, a family outing is long overdue. Speaking of, Mr. Grant, please meet my sister, y/n.” He brings his attention to the girl standing on his side. When Marc looks over he notices you staring at him with the most wonderstruck eyes.

“Good Afternoon Miss Benette.” Marc smiles softly at you, taking a small bow. You giggle and nod back at him.

“Hello Mr. Grant. Lovely to make your acquaintance.” As you spoke, Marc realized what Steven had seen in you. Why he had fallen head over heels. You really were a lovely sight to behold. Your skin looked soft, your hair was long and pinned up in curls, and you had the sweetest smile.

I know what you’re thinking, and I will accept an apology later.

This comment made Marc smirk. There were times he wished he couldn’t hear Steven (Or Jake for that matter) rambling in their head.

“Lord Benette, I do believe I met your sister last night at the ball. I must insist on a call tomorrow.” Marc said with a smile on his face.

Wait. What? He heard Steven scream in his head. He did exactly what he knew Steven wouldn’t, and now the other had to deal with that.

“Oh that would be a wonderful thing, don’t you agree?” Howard turned his attention towards you and Marc saw the smile spread across your face widen.

“That sounds like a wonderful time. I look forward to your call, Mr. Grant.” With that last comment, you turned and walked out the store. Howard said his goodbye and followed behind you.

A warning would have been nice, yeah? Steven grunted

Marc rushed to buy the stationary he needed and left the store. He couldn’t help giving Steven that small nudge. He needed it anyway. Hopefully, Steven doesn’t fuck it up this time.

Dearest Readers,

It has come to my attention that a flame has been set ablaze. Mister Steven Grant may have begun his courtship with our beloved diamond! How exhilarating this romance must seem, however to the other suitors this will be a very sad moment. It seems that this match, in which I predicted to be the very best, has been the gossip of almost every household of the ton. May we be seeing the bloom of a beautiful proposal, or the raging of a fire that will be sadly blown out by a storm? The answer, dear reader, may surprise you. My watchful eye has been and will always be trained to spot each rise and downfall. That being said, I will continue to watch this romance and update you with the latest thread.

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers,

1 April, 1815

“Ugh, that woman makes me want to tear my hair out!” You hear your mother say as she sets the paper on the table in front of her.

“What do you mean, Mama?” You hear your older sister say. Looking up from your tea you see your mother waving the paper around.

“This Whistledown woman is exasperating! She either loves this match or she doesn’t! She must make up her mind.” Hearing this comment makes you stand up immediately. Doing so makes everyone in the room turn in your direction.

“I- I must be getting ready. I do believe Mr. Grant said he would call on me around noon.” You turn and leave the room. Once you turned the corner of the hall, you backed against the wall taking a deep breath.

You couldn’t believe that this was finally happening. All thanks to your brother officially introducing him to you. The butterflies you felt in your stomach were very much real. However, you could only hope that he would court you properly.

Making it to your room finally, your lady maid, Emma, helped you pick out a very pretty lavender dress. Your hair was done in curls and pinned up to the latest fashion. When you were fully ready, you had to do the hardest thing of all. Wait.

Not that you were an impatient girl, you were just too excited for Mr. Grant to call on you. Dancing with him at the Masquerade had been the highlight of your evening, and you didn’t want to dance with anyone else after.

You walked back down to the parlor room to show your mother the dress you and Emma had picked out for the gentleman’s call. She looked absolutely delighted when you did a full turn.

“Oh blessed, You truly are the Diamond of the Season.” She raved. “Look how beautiful you are.”

“I truly cannot wait another minute, mama.” You said.

“Patience, my dear, He shall be here soon.” She glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantel. “Your brother shall also be here any minute to chaperone you both.”

You blushed lightly, the rose dusting on your cheeks only enhanced this. This was actually about to happen. You really couldn’t believe it. Sitting down, you waited quietly until your brother came and gave you a talk of what was about to happen.

On the other side of town, Steven paced his office in nervousness. He had never courted a woman before, let alone talked to the most beautiful person he has seen in his life.

Would you stop with the pacing for five minutes? It was Marc, and he sounded very annoyed.

“I just don’t think I can do this” He quivered. “Why did you get me into this mess?”

Because you need to find a wife before we die alone. Marc spat. Or would you rather we never find love?

Steven shook his head. Of course he didn’t want to die alone, without any kids or family of his own.

“What if she doesn’t take the news of all of us well though?” Steven looked in the mirror. He could see Marc’s reflection looking back at him. It wasn’t his usual hard look. Steven could tell he was deep in thought.

He took a look at the golden plate sitting on the shelf and saw Jake staring back at him.

How about we take turns courting her? Jake stated. This made Steven perk up a bit. That could actually work, and Jake never really stepped in unless both he and Marc were having trouble with their thoughts.

Looking back at the plate, Steven saw Marc shrug and nod his head.

“Yeah alright, then, that sounds like it could actually work!” Steven said excitedly. “I could go first and Marc could give it a go, and Jake can if he really feels like it!”

Steven. The time. Marc got his attention.

Steven looked at his pocket watch and realized he needed to get going. He took a deep breath, and left his office. He alerted the staff that he was going out and he would be back later that evening.

As he approached the Benette residence, he could feel the pit of his stomach be set ablaze by the pure excitement of officially courting you.

Once the carriage stopped, he stepped out into the crisp spring air, and made his way towards the door. Stopping to take a deep breath, he knocked three times and waited for the butler to answer.

The door opened and there stood a stout older gentleman awaiting his arrival.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Grant. I believe Lord and Lady Benette have been expecting you.” The old man stepped aside to let Steven in.

Once inside, the older man led him to the entrance of the parlor where everyone had been waiting for his arrival.

“May I introduce, Mr. Steven Grant, here for Miss Benette.” He announced to the room and left hurriedly.

Steven stepped into the door and bowed to everyone in the room.

“Good Morning, Lord and Lady Benette.” He stutterd lightly. “Happy to make your acquaintance.”

Lord Benette stood from his seat and walked over to Steven extending his hand. Steven took and shook his hand firmly.

“Very nice! Very nice handshake, young man!” The gray haired man said. “I admire that about another man, a nice firm handshake shows promise!”

Then Lady Benette stood and walked over to Steven. She smiled at him as he bowed to her and gently grabbed her hand.

“What a gentleman indeed.” She quipped. “You must tell me where you learned such excellent manners.”

“My Governess was one of a kind, my lady.” He chuckled.

Great charm, Steven. Keep it up. Steven could hear Marc say. This really began to boost his confidence.

“Let me go fetch our daughter, she has been waiting all morning for you.” She laughed.

As she left the room, Howard entered and his face brightened at the sight of Steven.

“Grant! Good to see you this morning!” He said then turned to his father. “Father, Steven Grant and I were schoolmates in Brighton!”

“Is that so? Tell me, young man, what did you study and what do you do?” Lord Benette inquired.

“I studied Archaeology, My Lord. I find it absolutely fascinating discovering ancient relics and cities.” He said truthfully. “I am currently a curator at the British Museum in London, sir”

Lord Benette seemed pleased by his answer. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all. They all continued to talk while they awaited the young lady to arrive.

Once you had entered the room, Steven noticed immediately. He turned fully to face and bowed to you. You curtsied back to him as he made his way towards you. Extending your hand to him and he happily took it and kissed your knuckles.

“Good Afternoon, Miss Benette.” Steven said awfully quiet. He was just taken aback by your beauty.

“Good Afternoon, Mr. Grant.” You replied, a light blush spreading across your face.

After a brief moment of staring at each other. Howard stepped in and cleared his throat.

“We should probably get a move on if we want to catch the Hot Air Balloons taking off.” He stated.

“Ah yes, we probably shall then.” Steven agreed and turned to Lord Benette once more. “It was an honor to meet you sir.”

“Please, this was a pleasure! I shall see you soon, my boy!” He chuckled happily.

Steven held his hand out to you, which you happily took. He helped her into the carriage following after your brother. This was turning out to be an excellent call. Something he never thought once would happen.

The carriage pulled up to the airfield and once Steven had exited the car, he helped you out onto the grassy area. It wasn’t too hot outside, but you definitely feel the sun blazing your skin. Though seeing all the large balloons getting ready to fly took your mind off of the heat.

Your brother and Steven chatted for a bit, and then Howard left to chat with another one of his friends leaving both you and Steven alone for a brief moment.

“Miss Benette, if I may ask, were you excited for this visit today?” Steven asked bluntly. You were honestly a little surprised by the question.

“Yes, very. I did rather fancy being able to see you again after the last ball.” You blushed. You could see him smile at your comment.

“I was eager to see you again, but not knowing your name put me in a very hard predicament.” He replied. What an idiot you were. Of course you forgot to tell this man your name. However, no sense of dwelling on that now.

“Now let me ask you something, Mr. Grant.” You started. “What are things you like to do for fun?”

Now it was finally your turn to learn about him and his background. This excited you. Learning how he was an archaeologist, and how he talked about the ancient Egyptians and Egyptian gods. He was very fascinating.

Once he was done, he asked about you in return. You told him of your hobbies, how many languages you spoke, and how you had always wanted to travel. When the conversation seemed to falter, you saw the gleam in his eyes change slightly.

“Do you speak any other languages?” You ask out of curiosity.

He nodded and cleared his throat.

“I know Spanish, French, and Arabic. It is something I am passionate about.” He said, though you noticed his accent had changed just a bit. It wasn’t enough to concern you though.

You both talked more about his travels and education. You even learned that he had been to Africa on an expedition to find an ancient temple.

“Would you ever take me on an expedition, Mr. Grant?” You asked him and grabbed onto his arm. Once again, his eyes changed at a moment's notice.

“If it is not too dangerous, we can discuss the option to.” He stared and smiled slightly at you.

This was exhilarating to talk about. The potential to travel the world with someone who could very much fall in love with and marry. You glance over and notice that he is staring at you intensely. When he notices you looking back, he smiles and holds out his arm.

You both begin to walk around the field, speaking to the pilots of the Hot Air Balloons. This was the highlight of your day. After a few hours, you both head back to the viewing area to watch them lift off. Howard is there waiting for the both of you, with a big smile spread across his face.

He and Steven spoke about the mechanics on the Balloons and you stood and listened to their conversation. All you could feel at the moment was absolute joy. When it was finally time to go you all headed back to the carriage and went on your way.

You all made it back to your residence, and you began to realize this was the end of your visit. It made you sad to think about. When you all had exited the carriage, it was time to say goodbye. Steven chatted with your brother a bit before turning to you.

“Miss Benette, if I may ask, would you accompany me to the next ball?” He asked. “If that is acceptable with your older brother?”

Howard smiled brightly, “Indeed it is! What do you say to Mr. Grant’s request?” Your brother turned to you questioningly.

“It would be an absolute pleasure, Mr. Grant.” You say as you smile at him. He smiles warmly back at you. And with a tip of his hat, he was gone. It was sad watching him leave, however, now you were truly excited for the ball coming in two days time.

Once you and your brother got back inside, he began to question how the visit went while he was away.

“So! Tell me! You like him, do you not?” He asked playfully.

“Howard! Shh!” You giggled. “It is true. I do have quite a fondness for him.”

“Then it is settled. I will not allow any other man to come between the two of you.” He stated. “I will go speak with him tomorrow about it.”

You smile.”And what of mama and papa?”

“I believe that they already approve of this match.” He said matter of factly.

“Is that so?” You wondered.

You walk back to the parlor, daydreaming of your future with Mr. Steven Grant.

The next few days flew by in the blink of an eye. Before he knew it Steven was standing in a crowded room of people he had barely met, waiting for you to arrive. To say that he was excited was very much an understatement.

Everything was going smoothly. He had spoken to a few of his colleagues and dodged hopeless mamas in search of any man to hand their daughters off to.

Then you finally arrived. Your brother was the one who found him first. Giving Steven a firm pat on the back.

“Good to see you again, Old Friend!” He shouted happily. “How are you feeling tonight?”

“A bit nervous, but I am excited to see where tonight takes us.” Steven replied. “I’m glad we spoke the other day.”

Howard bowed his head. Steven knew that his old friend wanted nothing but the best for them. His sister finally joined them as they were speaking in hushed voices.

“Mr. Grant, lovely to see you again.” You curtsied at him and he bowed back in response.

“Miss Benette, you look absolutely beautiful.” He said in awe, earning a blush that was slowly creeping onto the apples of your cheeks. “Would you care for a dance?”

“I would be delighted.” You reply quickly.

The music started to play softly as Steven took you to the dance floor. In a moment, Marc took over since he was the more coordinating dancer of the lot. He tried to keep their expression soft to mimic Stevens. He concentrated on you as they waltzed around the dance floor with the other patrons of the ball.

He was indeed having fun with you. For the first time, in a very long time, he genuinely smiled. This sparked a flame within Marc as such as the first time you danced with Steven. Now there were two of them falling deeply in love with the woman in front of them.

Once the song ended, they both bowed to each other and smiled. There was definitely a connection between the two people. Marc extended his hand and took you to the balcony. It was quiet and there were barely any people around. She rested her head against his shoulder as they stared at the stars together.

Are you ready for this, mate? Marc heard Steven ask. He took a deep breath and nodded slightly before letting Steven take back over.

Don’t fuck this up. Marc said before Steven began to talk.

“Miss Benette?” Steven asked before pulling away from you. “There is something I need to discuss with you.”

She turned to look at him, a bit confused.

“You can tell me anything, Mr. Grant.” She smiled.

“Well, the truth is, I came out here with you to propose.” He stated. He saw her face light up instantly. “But I do need to tell you the truth about something rather serious.”

He could tell you were confused by the way your eyebrows knitted together. Marc did the same thing when he was confused.

“It’s not the easiest thing to speak of, but I have been going through this ever since I was a child.”

“Steven.” You said softly. This made him look up at you. “Please tell me everything.”

So that’s where he began. He told you about his brother, and his mother. The trauma that he had experienced as a child. And now the moment of truth.

“Oh Steven, that sounds awful, I am so sorry.” You rubbed his arm.

“I just, there is one more thing about it all.” He took a deep breath. “I have two other separate personalities inside of me.”

Now you definitely looked confused.

“I do not understand, what do you mean by that?” You asked.

“I mean, There are two other people inside of this one mind.” He explained softly. “There are technically three of us.”

“You must be jesting.” You giggled.

“Miss Benette, I am being quite serious.” It was Marc who took over. You saw the gleam change in his eyes and then you finally understood.

“Wait, so then if there are three of you in one mind, then are they all called Steven Grant?” You asked quite seriously. You were trying to understand the whole situation, which they understood completely.

“No, Steven Grant is just the main one.” Marc spoke, turning towards you. “My name is Marc, Marc Spector. We just danced in the ballroom together.”

Your mouth was gaped open. You really couldn’t believe what you were witnessing.

“I knew there was something off about your dancing.” You stated. “It didn’t seem like Steven at all.”

“You would be correct about that statement, mi corazón.” The sudden change of voice made you jump.

“And now are you the third one?” You looked at him puzzled.

“Si, the third and final one. Jake Lockely, at your service, princesa.” He bowed at you.

This was all so much for you to take in. You didn’t know where to begin.

“Can I.. Can I speak to Steven?” You asked softly. He nodded and then in a flash you saw Steven’s eyes brighten back into himself.

As he looked into your eyes, he saw the glimpse of tears beginning to form. Without thinking, he brought a hand up to cup your cheek.

“Hey there, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, but you needed to know.” He tried soothing you. “I didn’t want you to say yes and it be hidden for our entire lives.”

You sniffled as he explained. It did make a lot more sense. Something you always valued was honesty, just like you saw between your own mother and father.

“I accept then.” You announce.

“Pardon?” Steven looked to you in confusion.

“I accept your proposal.” You respond a little more clearly.

“You do?” He asks and you nod. “You do! Oh blessed!”

He takes you by the waist and lifts you into a spin. You giggle in delight as he sets you down.

“On one condition.”

“Anything.” He agrees.

“This must be kept between only us, and you must announce who is speaking until I can figure you all out”

“We accept this condition.”

Dearest Readers,

It seems that my trained eyes were correct. An engagement between this season’s Diamond and Mr. Steven Grant has been officially announced. Though this news comes two weeks later, I am delighted to say this marriage will be held tomorrow in the beautiful garden of the Benette Residency. Those with invitations will be sure to witness a beautiful ceremony, and reception.

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers

4 May, 1815

You stood on the pedestal as the seamstress added the finishing touches to your wedding dress. The day you had waited for finally arrived. As you took in the intricate details of your gown, a knock on the door interrupted the quiet room. It swung open to reveal your brother, Howard, with a warm smile on his face.

"You look radiant, dear sister," Howard praised as he stepped into the room. "Are you ready for this momentous occasion?"

Turning to him, your eyes glistened with joyful tears. “It still feels like a dream.”

Your brother chuckled softly and approached you, adjusting a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, this dream is about to become a beautiful reality. Steven is a good man, and I have no doubt that he will make you happy.”

As Howard's words sank in, a sense of calm washed over you. You were grateful for your brother's support and understanding. The journey to this moment had been filled with unexpected twists and turns, but here you were, on the brink of a new chapter in your life.

"Yes, he is a good man," you replied, a soft smile playing on your lips. "And I am ready to embark on this new adventure with him."

Howard's eyes gleamed with pride as he took your hands in his. "Remember, no matter what challenges may come your way, you have the strength and resilience to overcome them. And you will always have family who loves you unconditionally."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you embraced your brother. His unwavering support meant the world to you, especially on a day as significant as this. As you pulled away, a knock at the door. You both look up to see your mother standing there.

With a soft smile, your mother entered the room, her eyes filled with tears of joy at the sight of her daughter in her wedding dress. She walked towards you, her steps deliberate yet filled with love and pride.

"My dearest child," she began, her voice trembling. "You look absolutely stunning. I cannot believe how quickly time has passed, and now you are about to start this new chapter of your life."

You embraced your mother, feeling her warmth and love enveloping you. The three of you stood there in a moment of shared happiness and anticipation for the future.

"Mama, Howard," you said, your voice filled with gratitude. "I am so thankful to have both of you by my side today. Your love and support mean everything to me."

As the three of you shared a tender embrace, the sound of distant music and muffled chatter reached your ears. The realization that the ceremony was about to begin spread a wave of excitement through the room.

With a deep breath, you straighten your posture and met the loving gazes of your mother and brother. They offered you reassuring smiles, filling you with a sense of calm.

"It's time," your mother said softly. "Let's make our way to the garden.”

Taking your brother’s arm, you made your way through the corridors of your home. The soft rustle of your gown against the marble floors seemed to echo your heartbeat as it quickened with each step.

As you approached the double doors leading to the garden, they swung open, revealing a breathtaking scene.

The garden was transformed into a fairytale setting, with an array of colorful flowers adorning every corner. The soft scent of roses and lilies mingled in the air, creating an ambiance of pure enchantment. Guests were seated in white chairs, their eyes eagerly awaiting the arrival of the bride.

As you stepped out into the sunlight, a hush fell over the audience. All eyes were on you, the vision of beauty and grace walking down the aisle. Your heart swelled as you locked eyes with Steven at the altar. His eyes filled with love, and for the first time you knew for sure it was Steven.

The gentle melody of a string quartet filled the air as you made your way towards your beloved. Every step felt like a dream, and time seemed to stand still as you reached the end of the aisle.

He looked at you with such tenderness and adoration that tears welled up in your eyes.

Steven extended his hand towards you, a wide smile spreading across his face. Taking his hand in yours, you could barely hear his whisper over the pounding of your heart. “You look absolutely stunning.” His soft voice reaching your ears. “I am the luckiest man in the world to have you as my bride.”

You smile gently to him and whisper back, “And I am the luckiest bride in the world to have you become my husband.”

The officiant began the ceremony, the sounds of nature seemed to join in as well. Birds sang in harmony as you both exchanged vows. The words spoken were filled with love and promises for a future together, a future you and Steven both dreamed of.

When the time came to exchange rings, Steven took your hand in his, his touch sending a wave of warmth through you. The ring slid easily onto your finger, a symbol of his commitment and love for you. Then came your turn to place the ring on his finger, sealing your own vows with a promise of forever.

As the officiant pronounced you husband and wife, cheers erupted from your guests, filling the garden with jubilant energy. Steven pulled you close, his lips meeting yours in a sweet and tender kiss. The electricity of the kiss sent a shiver down your spine. You were disappointed when he finally pulled away.

“Later, my love.” The change in his voice didn’t startle you. Just like you had recognized Steven earlier, you knew this was Marc. You smiled shyly at your husband and nodded.

The reception was a celebration of love and joy, with guests laughing and dancing under the twinkling lights that adorned the garden. You and Steven danced together, your heart overflowing with happiness at the realization of your love for each other.

Nearby, Howard raised his glass for a toast, his voice clear and filled with emotion. "To my dear sister and her charming husband, Steven. May your love continue to grow stronger with each passing day, and may your days be filled with laughter and joy."

The guests echoed their approval with heartfelt cheers, and you felt a surge of gratitude for the love and support that surrounded you. As the evening progressed, you found yourself stealing glances at Steven who seemed to navigate the crowd effortlessly.

He caught your eye from across the room and smiled warmly at you. Making your way through the throng of well-wishers, you finally stood face to face with your new husband.

“We should announce our leave, darling.” He said softly.

You nodded in agreement, feeling a tinge of nervousness about what the future of the night held. As Steven led you through the crowd towards the center of the garden, the guests gradually quieted down, turning their attention towards you both.

Steven raised his glass, the tinkling sound cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. "Friends and family," he began, his voice carrying with warmth. "We want to thank each and every one of you for being here today to witness our union. Your presence has made this day even more special, and we are truly grateful."

You watched as Steven's eyes nervously scanned the faces before him, his gaze finally settling on you with a look that spoke volumes. Clearing his throat lightly, he continued, "As we embark on this journey together as husband and wife, we are filled with hope for a future filled with love, laughter, and shared dreams. We are incredibly blessed to have such wonderful people in our lives.”

There was a round of applause from the guests, their faces beaming with happiness for you and Steven. You felt a swell of emotion in your chest, overwhelmed by the love and support surrounding you on this magical day.

Within those few short moments of saying goodbye to your family, you felt the nerves of traveling across town to your new home to melt away as you and Steven climbed into the carriage.

The carriage ride was a quiet one, with only the sounds of the horses' hooves against the cobblestone streets breaking the silence. You sat close to Steven, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining as if to reassure you.

You couldn't help but steal glances at your husband. The dim light of the lanterns cast a soft glow on his features, highlighting the contours of his face. Steven caught your gaze and offered you a tender smile, his eyes reflecting the love and affection he held for you.

“Is there something on my face, love?” He asks as you continued to stare.

“Oh!” You blush, and look away quickly. “No, nothing of the sort.”

“Were you just admiring?” His voice changed slightly causing you to look back.

You smile, “Of course.”

This caused Marc to chuckle, and reach out to take your hand. Bringing your knuckles to his lips he kisses them softly. There is a small gap of your lips as he does so.

“Will I be spending our first night with you, Marc?”

He seemed a bit surprised that you said his name. However his shock was replaced with a hint of a dark tint in his eyes. “No, my dear, not unless that is your request.”

You giggle, “Maybe another time. I would very much like Steven to be the consummator of this marriage.”

“As you wish.” He smiles, and the softness returns to Steven’s eyes.

“There you are, darling.” You say softly.

The carriage rolls to a stop in front of an elegant townhouse adorned with ivy climbing up its brick exterior. As you step out onto the cobblestone path, Steven's hand reaches out and you take it instinctively.

The door opens, revealing a warmly lit foyer with flickering candlelight casting dancing shadows on the walls. Steven guides you inside, his presence a comforting anchor to your oncoming nerves. In the hallway of the home, a few servants stand and Steven introduces you to each of them. Your new lady’s maid is a small older woman with a gentle smile.

After the brief introductions, he leads you up the staircase to the bedroom you both will be sharing. You felt a slight shake in your hands as you realized what was about to happen. Your mother had explained how the marriage will be sealed on your first night alone. You didn’t want to admit how nervous it made you feel.

As you entered the bedroom, you saw the warm glow of the fireplace. The soft colors and flowers on the bedside table put a bit of ease over you. Steven led you to the edge of the bed, his eyes filled with tenderness and understanding. He could sense your apprehension and paused, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Darling, there is no need to rush anything tonight,” he said softly, his voice soothing you. “We have all the time in the world to explore this new chapter of our lives.”

His words eased some of your tension, and you felt a sense of gratitude for his patience and understanding. Steven moved to stand in front of you, his hands gently cupping your face as he looked into your eyes with unwavering affection.

“You are my partner in every sense of the word,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “I want nothing more than for us to build our relationship on a foundation of love and trust.”

“I…” You begin, but your words fall short.

“What is it, my love?”

“I want to…”

“You want to have me tonight?”

You blush and nod as he finishes what you had been wanting to say. Steven's eyes softened with understanding as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Then it shall be as you wish,” he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness.

He takes your hand and helps you stand. Slowly removing his jacket and vest. You watch as his eyes darkened with lust as he stares at you. A blush forming on your cheeks.

Once he removes his vest, he steps towards you and kisses you softly. Gently cupping your cheeks as if to ground you into the kiss. His touch sent a wave of warmth through you, easing the last of your reservations.

The kiss deepens, igniting a fire within you as Steven’s hands roam your body with a gentle yet possessive urgency. Your heart races as you feel his fingers begin to unbutton the top layer of your dress. As he unbuttons the last part, the soft fabric of your dress falls and pools around your feet.

Steven’s lips trail down your neck, leaving a trail of tingling warmth in their wake. With each layer of clothing shed between you, you feel the urgency of wanting to be closer to him.

Finally, in the flickering light of the fireplace, you stand before each other in all your vulnerability and desire. He stares at you, his eyes roaming your now naked form.

“So beautiful.” He whispers. “A goddess amongst men, and she is in my wake.”

The blush on your cheeks deepen, and he steps closer to you. His hands grab onto your waist and lift you onto the edge of the bed.

“Lay back against the pillows, my love.” He instructs softly.

As you lay back against the soft pillows, Steven’s gaze never leaves yours. His eyes are dark with desire, it was nothing like you had seen before. He leans in to press a trail of kisses along your collarbone, his hands tracing patterns on your skin.

Every touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a fire deep within your core. Steven’s hands move with purpose, exploring every curve and dip of your body as if committing it to memory. His lips find yours once more in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

The heat between the both of you is intoxicating. You feel something hard against your thigh and you look down. A blush begins to creep up his face.

“Sorry, I’m a bit too excited.” He mumbles and you smile softly.

“It’s quite alright,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper as you reach down to run your hand along his length.

Steven’s breath hitches at your touch, a low groan escaping his lips as he slowly thrusts against your hand. His eyes search yours, seeking permission and reassurance. You meet his gaze with unwavering trust and desire, silently giving him the consent he seeks.

Without breaking eye contact, Steven positions himself above you and presses the tip of his member against your entrance.

“This might feel a bit uncomfortable, love. I promise to stop if you do not like it.”

You nod and look deep into his eyes. He slowly guides himself inside you, the heat and tightness wrapping around him like a warm embrace. A gasp escapes your lips at the feeling of being joined so intimately with him, a mixture of pleasure and slight discomfort washing over you.

Steven’s movements are slow and gentle, his hands holding onto yours as if to anchor himself in this moment. He whispers sweet words of adoration and reassurance, his eyes never leaving yours as he moves with a careful rhythm that soon becomes a dance of shared passion.

As the initial discomfort fades, waves of pleasure begin to build within you, each thrust sending sparks of ecstasy through your body. The room is filled with the sounds of your mingled gasps and moans.

“Such a good girl.” He praises, causing you to let out a soft moan.

You had never been spoken to like this. It sent waves of pleasure down your spine as he continued to whisper praises into your ear. In this intimate moment, there is only you and Steven, bodies moving together in a sacred union of love and desire.

As the intensity builds, you arch your back and wrap your legs around Steven, pulling him closer. His eyes meet yours, filled with passion and devotion.

"I love you," he hisses, and the words send a shockwave of pleasure through you.

Each word, each thrust, brings you closer to the edge. The pleasure builds and builds until it's almost too much to bear.

“I feel funny.” You moan out.

“I know, darling, let go for me.” He responds quickly.

You don’t understand what he means until the pressure in your lower stomach explodes. You grip Steven’s shoulders, digging your nails into his skin as you cry out his name. Your body shaking with intense pleasure. Steven groans and thrusts one last time as he finds his release, filling you with his warmth and completing the bond between you.

His breath is ragged and heavy against your skin. You are still pulsing around his semi-hard length, causing him to groan. As he pulls out, you gasp at the sudden emptiness within you.

“Are you alright, love?” he asks, concern in his voice.

You smile weakly and nod. “Yes, I am. That was… more intense than I anticipated.”

Steven smiles down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m glad.” He gently kisses your forehead.

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow, Steven's hand strokes your hair while his other arm holds you close to him. For a moment, all is still and calm.

“This is… different.” you murmur, thinking about all that just happened.

“Different” He repeats “A good different, I hope.”

“Of course.”

Silence envelopes the both of you.

“I have never felt this way before.” He admits. “I never thought I would find love like this.”

You turn your head to look up at him. “Because of… your condition?”

He nods, and kisses your forehead. You snuggle closer to him, feeling content and safe in his arms.

“Marc and I were always too scared, too cautious…but then I saw you.” He says softly, ”And you changed our entire perspective.”

You smile, feeling warmed by his words. "I'm glad I could do that for you."

"I love you," Steven whispers into your ear, holding you tighter.

You smile and whisper back, "I love you too."

Both of you doze off to sleep, cradled in each other's arms, content in the knowledge that no matter what the world throws your way, you have each other to lean on. And with that comforting thought, sleep claims you both.

Epilogue

You sit in the large garden of your family’s summer home and watch as your brother and husband play cricket with the rest of the young men on your side of the family. Your hand rests on the swell of your pregnant belly, your first child, which Steven was delighted to find out about.

The sun was setting, casting a warm golden hue over the scene. Your thoughts drifted back to the night you first shared together. The feelings of love and vulnerability still lingered in your heart, wrapping you in a cocoon of cherished memories. But more than that, you felt a sense of gratitude for finding someone who understood and accepted you just as you were.

Steven looked up and caught your gaze, his eyes locking onto yours across the distance. A smile spread across his face as he raised his hand in a silent greeting. You returned the gesture with a warm smile of your own, feeling an intense surge of love for him.

As the men finished up, you waited for Steven to run over to you and help you out of your seat. You both walked back to the house slowly.

“Did you ever think life would come to be like this?” you ask softly.

“Never in a million years, my darling.”

You both stop walking and turn towards each other. “I am excited for the future.” you say.

“So are we.” He says gently and places a hand on your bump. You place your hand gently on top of his, smiling up at him.

Steven leans down, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I will love you till the end of time, love.”

“My moon.”

“My star.”

And with those sweet words, you both continue walking back to the house. The sun set behind you, casting long shadows on the path ahead as your shared journey continued filled with love and hope.

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espinosaurusrexex · 1 year ago

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Happy Little Accidents

Veteran!BuckyBarnes x Female!ArtTeacher!Reader

summary: In a world after the war, Bucky tries to get pieces of his old self back by joining an art class. He meets you and instantly falls head over heels. Now he just has to work up the courage to ask you out.

a/n: wrote most of this on my lunch break after finally feeling the creativity spark again. I hope you all get a cozy fall feeling.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: adapting to life after war, frustration, a little angst, love-dazed Bucky, just so much fluff and wholesomeness 💕

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

↑ the face of a man too whipped to listen - this is the Bucky vibe today

Steve Rogers was an artist. A lot of people knew about it. Hell, the Smithsonian even had a gallery full of sketches from a notebook of Steve’s he had lost back in ‘45. But Steve never needed people to recognize his work. Just like he never needed all the fame that came with his shield or all the honors he got for doing what he thought normal human decency implied - stopping bullies.

But what not many people knew was that Steve loved his art so much, he even held little sketch workshops in the camps on the western front. He drew each member of the howling commandos with impeccable accuracy. He loved drawing portraits and he loved to help.

Which was why, sooner or later, Bucky had been talked into trying his first sketches back in the day as well. Back when he was still left-handed, back when he found joy in little things such as drawing with his best friend. Back when he was not who he was now.

Yeah, he was bitter about it...

Bucky wasn’t too shabby of an artist per se. He was rather quick with his sketches always able to find the right spot for his next line and even though they weren’t perfect, one could always see what his pictures were meant to present.

Yes, they were crooked and not nearly as good as Steve’s but he had fun with it. Sketching had been an escape for his soul while bombs were exploding only miles away from his camp. It had reminded him of his best friend when they were apart, and most importantly, it taught him patience.

God, so much patience.

Bucky had never been good with it. Always fast, always right away. But the amount of times Steve made him erase carefully constructed lines and shapes had him feel scolded like a kid.

Later, he was grateful for it.

Now? He hated just touching a pencil. Every time he was reminded of his recovery, of months of frustration and anger, of grief and sadness. All because he’d lost his arm, and with it, all that had brought him joy in life.

When he had to learn to write with his right hand, he screamed at the papers before him, the crooked and shaky lines mocking him with vigor.

You’ll never be the same, they said, You’ll never have true joy back.

He felt like a child. Unable to do the most mundane of tasks, whilst fully aware of what had to be done to get it right.

But he missed it. The way drawing would clear his mind and the ease he felt when thinking of nothing but the next step in the process.

So after a particularly frustrating session with his therapist, Bucky had walked through a gallery on his way home. Beautiful pieces, each more impressive than the next hung on bright white walls until he reached a small corner with sketches and photographs. They weren’t less good than the rest, but other than the huge paintings, they seemed approachable - and they reminded him of times far gone.

“Hello, would you be interested in signing up for a sketching class?” An angelic voice had asked after holding a leaflet into his line of sight. And when he followed the hand up to your face, his breath hitched in his throat.

“I- I don’t think I’d be any good…” he had said with a pitiful smile as his left arm raised next to his head, the sleek silver of his hand shining in the showroom light.

“Oh don’t be silly. Everyone can be an artist.”

And that was all it took.

Now he was here. Sitting in a room with about eight other people, listening to you talk. Though Bucky didn’t pay much attention to your words. He was distracted by the way your lips curved when you spoke, and how your hands looked in the light when you flailed them in the air. He wanted to draw you, only you. But he knew he could never do you justice. And that frustrated him a little.

His first task was easy. A series of connected squiggles and shapes. The second was harder - finding and highlighting familiar motives in his work. But when he tried to connect his shapes, his hand began to tremble and the line on his paper got dented, he huffed in surrender.

A look to the front to you talking with another woman and he was getting off his chair.

This was useless. He should have never come here.

But when he moved to gather his things, your voice stopped him once again.

“Oh that’s interesting,” you said with a tilted head, your eyes following the little dent in his drawing.

“Yeah, I messed it up.” He shook his head and added a careful, much more quiet ‘I always do”.

“You see, it’s only a mistake if you make it one.” You turned to him and smiled and his heart began racing now that all your attention was on him. Bucky looked around to see if anyone noticed, but the other participants were all focused on their work. “I’m not going to tell you that this line isn’t supposed to be the way it is. You alone can decide that.”

You stepped closer as he eyed his paper again. “So, Bucky,” holy crap you remembered his name. And it sounded so good coming from your lips. “Are you gonna make it a mistake or not?”

❁ ❁ ❁

That was a month ago. And Bucky had come to your class every Sunday night since then. But now his crush had only intensified.

Every time you stepped behind him to watch him work, his hand began to sweat. Every time you gave him a suggestion, his eyes were so drawn to your lips, he barely heard what you were saying. Just yesterday this had caused him to get into a particularly awkward situation. He hadn’t listened, of course - those stupid mesmerizing lips of yours were at fault for it. And when Bucky finally came back from his daydream of imagining what they would feel like on his lips, he knocked over a jar of water as he noticed you had moved next to him. And to make matters even worse, you had caught him talking to himself as he cleaned up the mess.

Bucky was beyond embarrassed. He wasn’t normally that clumsy, all his moves were calculated. No limb out of control, but when you were around, he seemed to have lost that trait of his - which was actually kind of nice...

He was in deep. And he didn’t know how to handle it.

He was contemplating never going back to your class. He would probably end up ruining somebody’s work and - besides - it wasn’t like he could ever work up the courage to ask you out. It was just all too scary.

“Bucky, is that you?” Bucky froze as he studied the coffee menu above the barista. He was going to order black anyway. But the voice that called out his name almost made him want to pretend he was still studying the sign.

“Bucky.” Your voice came closer and when you were standing next to him, he finally looked at you. And there you were, with a bright smile and a scarf shielding you from the cool fall breeze outside.

“Oh, hey.” He paused, treading, not knowing what to do with his hands or pretty much any part of his body. At least, in your workshop, he had something to do. “...hey.”

“It’s nice to see you, how’s your homework going?” You rubbed your hands together to warm them and at the sight of your delicate fingers, he felt his cheeks heating up when he imagined holding them.

“It’s... well, it’s going...” He sighed and watched his feet as they shuffled on the tiled floor. “It’s not going well if I’m being honest.” And with a shy smile, he rubbed the back of his neck, watching as you nodded in understanding.

“I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes it really helps to just get started without thinking about it too much.”

He chuckled. That was exactly his problem. Because every time he wanted to start, he wondered what you would think about it. And then his thoughts drifted to you entirely and how your neck would bend when you watched him draw over his shoulder, or how your fingers swayed over his artwork to point out the parts you were talking about. God, he loved when you did that.

“-only if you want, of course.” Your nose crinkled when Bucky’s mind brought him back to the coffee shop again. You were staring at him expectantly, your smile growing nervous with every second he took to register that you had just asked him a question.

Bucky had no idea what you had just said. He had been too lost in his daydream yet again and now he made you look stupid in the middle of this coffee shop. There wasn’t much time to decide what his response would be, but under no circumstance did he want to admit just how scattered he was around you. So without thinking, he just nodded with a tight-lipped smile and willed his knees to stay strong when your eyes brightened.

“Awesome! When are you free?” Free? Did you just ask him out and he hadn’t even paid attention?

“Uh, Sunday?” Bucky stammered as his heart began to pound in his chest. This has got to be a prank.

You laughed, and Bucky got weak in the knees. “Sunday is workshop, silly.”

Stupid, stupid, Bucky. “Right, uh... Friday then.” The rapid beat in his chest took his breath away.

“Okay, great. Here give me your phone so I can give you my number.”

“You’re–“ Bucky choked as his hands scrambled to fish his phone out of his pocket. “Yes, yeah sure, cool.” Cool? Oh god.

You took it from him, entered your contact with a little paintbrush emoji, called yourself, and handed it back to his sweaty hand.

“I’ll text you my address.” You stepped forward to pay and retrieve your coffee, gifting the barista a smile that made him blush - apparently, you were a regular because Bucky did not remember you ordering - but then again - he didn’t really pay attention apparently. “Oh, and bring your art supplies!”

And then you were out the door, letting crisp air into the cozy coffee shop, and Bucky standing dazed and confused as to what had just happened.

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky stared at his phone for the fifth time now, making sure he was in front of the right door before ringing the bell. He was nervous, to say the least. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was on a date, not to mention the last time he felt this nervous about being on one. He was a strong believer in facts but you asking him out had to be a sign from the universe. One he would only get once and he could not screw it up.

His hands smoothed over his black button-up one last time before adjusting his leather jacket again. Then he rang the bell and not even a minute later, you greeted him with a warm smile and urged him to give you his jacket to hang up.

“I just made tea, do you want some?” Bucky followed you to the kitchen where the faint but homey scent of pumpkin spice filled the air. He watches as you scrambled to find your oven its and then retrieve something delicious smelling from the oven. “Cookies?”

“I’m good with tea for now.” He chuckled in awe at how nice your home felt. Once he could tear his eyes away from you, he peered over the kitchen island into your living room, where many different artworks and photographs were displayed on the walls. Every pillow on your sofa had a different color and the blankets sprawled on it and the chair were too inviting for him not to picture the both of you cuddled up beneath them.

“Alright then, suit yourself. But just know these are my specialty.” You snatched one from the tray before almost dropping it again. “Ouch, hot.”

Bucky felt drawn to the room. With all its warm light and fall-scented candles, hints of read books and discarded crocheting, with a crackling fireplace and soft carpeting. He also felt awfully intimate at the glimpse he got into your life by being here, but he had already declared this place his favorite in his mind.

“Are you ready?” Bucky turned to you and watched as you padded your hands on your jeans, leaving faint flour prints on the dark denim.

“Ready for what?” He smiled again, he seemed to be unable to stop around you. But he was just so happy to be here, to be close to you, and to finally spend more time with you.

You chuckled and set two cups of tea on the table. “For your sketches. That’s the whole reason you came here for, remember?”

You settled on the ground and padded the sofa for Bucky. But he could just stand there and stare at you while trying to ignore the lump that began to build in his throat. He clenched the bag with his art supplies in his hand and watched as the soft material wrinkled in his grasp.

Of, course. He took a breath. How could he have been so naive? Then stepped towards the sofa. The whole thing had been a mistake. And finally sat down with a heavy smile.

The sadness was filling him so fast, it threatened to spill right out of him, but Bucky wouldn’t let this little big dent in the road be shown in front of you. Instead, he focused on your hands when they pulled his sketch pad from his bag. And your eager smile when you flipped through his failed attempts on the paper.

The whole atmosphere was wearing a thin layer of sorrow all of a sudden, and Bucky felt his heartache when you leaned over to him to point out the parts you liked the most. Your perfume seemed just that much sweeter as if it were mocking him all of a sudden.

He didn’t listen. He just watched you with the same longing he’s had ever since he met you. Back to square one. Back to the distance he had with you before he foolishly thought you had asked him out. Except now he’d lost all the confidence left in him to take the next step.

Bucky let the evening wash over him. Trying to concentrate on your tips and examples, tasting the tea you had offered to him with the sweetest smile. And before he knew it, he was standing in front of your apartment building again - with a box of those pumpkin cookies in hand and a heart that felt heavier than the bricks he was staring at.

He sighed and began his walk back home.

❁ ❁ ❁

On Sunday he decided that he wouldn’t give up. Bucky didn't know what changed his mind. He just knew that he couldn’t stop thinking about you and him on that incredibly comfortable sofa of yours and the scent of your cedar and cinnamon candle which seemed to linger on his skin for days after his visit. He wanted to play the sketching games he had half-heartedly endured last time and he wanted to become a better artist.

Bucky had left your cookie box at home as an excuse to meet up with you again. And even though he was sweating ferociously when he approached you after class, you had agreed to meet with him again.

He’d left the gallery with a bright smile that evening. Excited for the next time he’d see you again and eager with daydreams on the subway home.

You and Bucky met up every week. Every time, spending a little longer not just drawing and it filled his heart with warmth and happiness. You shared laughter, and, in Bucky’s eyes, a growing connection with every passing meeting.

He learned about your dreams and aspirations and told you about his past, his interests, and his most treasured fantasies.

As weeks turned into months, Bucky found himself drawn to you in more ways than the warmth radiating from your smile he’d noticed the first day he met you, or your talent of calmly helping him in every way possible. He admired your passion for art, your kindness, and your enchanting presence. The fear and the shyness that had gripped him at first, slowly faded away - replaced by a sense of comfort when he was with you.

And soon he realized that there was nothing he didn’t love about you. This was how he got the courage to, on one calm evening spent on your sofa, between the colorful pillows he had been thinking about falling asleep on for weeks, place his hand in yours and intertwine your fingers with his.

“I got something for you,” he whispered between dialogues of the Halloween movie playing on TV, watching as your eyes aimed up at him with curiosity.

With reluctance, he peeled himself out of the warm blanket you shared and trudged to the sketchbook hidden in his bag. The initial idea had been dipped in silly confidence. But it was too late to back out now. He’d already told you about it.

So despite his nervous heartbeat, Bucky came back to the sofa and handed you the book.

“Open it,” he nudged when you carefully inspected the black leather binding, unaware of the confession hidden beneath.

And when you did, he felt he could read every expression on your face like a poem.

The book was filled with sketches of you. The first pages were scattered in hasty pencil drawings, misplaced lines, and unintentional dents. Then followed the section in which he had tried to pay attention to detail. The curve of your nose or the arch of your fingers when they pointed at his artwork. He could see them now, hovering over the sketches himself, and when you turned to the last page of the section, he could see the striking resemblance between them. And so did you. On the next turn, you revealed the latest portraits he’d added to the book - finally confident enough to attempt doing what he saw you as justice, to finally look past his mistakes - or happy little accidents as you called them - and just try it.

Bucky had discovered that your weekly sketch sessions had done him good. And that you had secretly given him back what he had mourned after for so long.

“I couldn’t keep my eyes off you from the moment we met.” He whispered still, too afraid to break the moment you’d just created. “Thought it was time for me to tell you.”

Your eyes were glassy when you tore them from the pages in your hand, a shaky laugh escaping your lips when Bucky beamed down at you. “You did all of this for me-”

“Because of you,” he corrected and wiped a lonely tear from your cheek. “I never thought I could get the joy of drawing back until you showed me how.”

Bucky leaned in closer until your noses touched. “How to be less critical of myself.” He closed his eyes and let his hand linger on your skin. “And how to welcome a mistake by making it an accident-”

And before he could finish that sentence, he felt your lips press to his and your warm hands wrap around his neck to pull him into your body. Bucky shivered in excitement, letting his hands trail down your back and falling into the soft cushions of your sofa while he pressed you to his chest protectively.

He sighed into the kiss, feeling his heart burn with excitement.

Fascinating, how fast a mistake can turn into a happy little accident.

I love you Bob Ross <3

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highhhfiveee · 1 year ago

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mint

pairing: mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: you’re abby’s mint chocolate-loving babysitter. mike takes notice. wc: 1.3k tags: suggestiveness, swearing, fluff. *minor movie spoiler that isn’t a spoiler fr but kind of is* a/n: oi. this is my first official piece of fanfic on tumblr and i'm excited but also super nervous. i never knew what characters i wanted to write for as most of my fandoms are obsolete tbh (teen wolf and maze runner, i'm looking at you 💔) but after watching the fnaf movie and falling in love with j hutch like i'm 14 again, i wanted to try to write for mike! i'm sorry if this story sucks tbh. i wrote it pretty quickly, did not edit it in any way (watch for grammar and spelling errors!) and i'm still trying to establish characters and plot and do all this silly billy worldbuilding, but i'll get better! i'm also taking requests for both fluff and smut, so if y'all would like to send anything for me to write, i'll def accept! like i said in my last post, i think i'm gonna redo my tumblr layout so i can feel like a true fanfic/misc blog lmao so ignore its under construction phase ((: i hope y'all enjoy this though bc i've been thinking ab mike schmidt all night

i have sooo many ideas, but between last night and this morning, i’ve been thinking of abby’s babysitter!reader (bc fuck max).

you’ve been channel surfing in the living room since you put abby down, working with her to lock down a nightly routine. ideally, she’d bathe, eat dinner (god willingly), brush her teeth, and then you’d be able to get her to lay in bed and doze off. some nights, this required dessert.

“you just brushed your teeth though. it’s gonna taste gross.”

“not if it’s one of those mint chocolate things you always have.” you straighten up, eyes squinted at the child before you; she meant the small, sometimes melted, squares of Andes mint chocolate you always kept. they’d always been your favorite, a guilty pleasure in this fucked up world.

you hadn’t been babysitting abby for long, and you didn’t realize that she'd been watching you crush the chocolates like it was light work. they were easy to eat, and once you had one, you found out how easy it was to eat another one, and then another one, and then another one until there was a mountain of crinkled foil next to your phone and chocolate smeared on your face.

"please, y/n. just one," you didn't exactly know if it was a lie. abby was convincing, able to break you down with her eyes, pleading and puppy-dog like. "please."

you cave, leaning down to brush her hair back from her forehead and place a gentle kiss on the skin. with pursed lips, you whisper, "fine, but tomorrow night. i have to get some more."

abby does nothing but smile, eyes fluttering closed. you stay with her for a bit like you always do--watching the way her chest rises and falls, and how her features twitched with slumber. features scarily similar to mike's.

of course she'd look like mike. they were siblings, no shit, but the resemblance occupied your brain. there was sweet abby, with her colorful clothes and scribbled drawings and persuasive aura, and then there was mike.

you shake your head, giving abby another kiss before exiting her room. you didn't need to think about mike. he wasn't what you were here for. you'd come to abby's school as an aide and after she'd privately confided in you about her home life, you knew you had to help her. you would do anything for her, even if that meant taking care of her while suppressing the overwhelming school girl crush you had on her older brother.

mike was a bit older than you, which didn't scare you at all. guys in their early 20s were rarely mature, doing anything they could just to fuck; but guys in their late 20s, mike specifically, had only ever shown you couth, surprisingly.

for nearly two months, five mornings a week, the sound of the door being unlocked would ring out. you'd turn to see sunshine pouring into the living room, enveloping mike's brooding figure in a radiant golden glow.

he'd hang his coat on the wall hooks, drop his bag down to his feet, and give you a small but warm smile. you'd try to not to embarrass yourself as you two made small talk, packing up your things.

you always left unscathed, but recently it'd been hard. you were always thinking about him, dreaming about him even; how his hair would feel between your fingers, how his hands would feel on your face, how his face would feel between your thighs.

the thought is washed away, drowned out by the sound effects of a loud infomercial when the door opens, and you're turning and squinting against the wash of pale yellow on your face. mike steps forward with a, "hey, y/n" and you meekly raise your hand to wave.

he hangs his hoodie up to reveal his shoulder blades flexing under an uncharacteristically tight navy blue sweater. you can't help but stare.

"just wake up?" his voice is raspy, but he's still facing the wall, rummaging in his bag for something.

"um...yeah. brain's still turning on," you lie, tossing the thick blue blanket off your body. you didn't sleep at all, kept up with your thoughts and the last of your Andes mints (though you loved her, you couldn't give abby your last ones).

"hm," he mutters, finally turning to you but keeping his hands behind his back. something crinkles in them and you raise your eyebrow at the tired yet amused expression he takes with you. it's enough to make your body hot and you awkwardly pull at the collar of your shirt, fanning yourself off.

"hot?" the gravelly tone sends you into a giggling fit, shaking your head as you shoot to your feet. you have to leave before you do or say something you regret.

"uh, yeah, it was s-super hot under that...um...blanket. i shouldn't have worn sweatpants to s-sleep," you stutter, nodding your head along with mike as he steps closer to you. this couldn't be the moment something happens, right? it'd been so casual between you too, very friendly, and he'd never shown any signs of trying to do anything with you before. why would he choose right now, so spontaneously?

he stands before you, the slightest bit taller than you. you're able to see every pore, every freckle, every microscopic detail in his eyes and lips.

you open your mouth, hoping your heart doesn't fall out, to ask what's happening, when he reveals a bag of Andes mints, one bigger than you've ever seen.

your mouth stays open in surprise. "wh-"

"abby's been talking about them. i wondered where she found out about them but--" he nudges his head towards the coffee table, where a small mound of green wrappers lay. you swear under your breath, cursing yourself for not throwing them away like you usually do.

"i'm sorry," you whisper, blushing beyond measure as you begin to frantically pack your things. "i should be more careful with that stuff."

"god, y/n, you're saying it like it's coke," mike chuckles. he sets the bag down on the couch and reaches out to you, placing his hand on yours as you shove things into your tote. "hey."

his voice forces you to stop and look up. you melt under his stare just like you do with abby. the puppy-dog thing must run in the family.

"i feel bad about not being able to pay you yet, and i really appreciate all you're doing. abby told me that you loved those mints, so..."

"thank you, mike," you say over the sound of your pounding heart. you didn't care about the money, you didn't need it. being appreciated by someone who made your heartbeat resonate throughout your body was payment enough. "this is really sweet."

"thank you, y/n. you don't know how much this means to me." You scoff, throwing your tote over your shoulder and looking down at your feet.

"i'm always happy to help." you and mike stand facing each other for what feels like hours, the air as thick as molasses between you. his eyes were squinted, low and dark and intriguing.

you wished you could read his mind. what was he thinking? did his heart do the same thing as yours, wacking against his ribcage with no end in sight? did he stay up thinking about you when he was supposed to be sleeping, imagining how you felt, what you sounded like, how you tasted---

"see you later tonight?" his voice rocks you out of your trance. he's not thinking about you. he's tired, wondering when you'll leave so he can fall into his bed and doze off.

"yeah. tell abby i said i'll see her tonight." your smile is tight as you exit the house, cursing at yourself as you get into your car.

you didn't know how long you could go on like this.

ya, i know this sucks and it isn't really anything but we're gonna work our way through these fics and blurbs to really develop a cute relationship (,: i will still be writing other fics for mike, and possibly using another babysitter!reader in a different universe, but as for now, we're gonna be rocking with these two (: (thinking that we’ll label her as 🌱🍫!reader) all notes are appreciated (: thanks for reading!

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt fluff #faire is writing stuff #fnaf fic

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amyysfics · 8 months ago

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skz - things he would do for you

pairing: ot8 x gender neutral!reader warnings: fluff, eating in minho's, hurt/comfort for chan's summary: things they would do for you that show their love word count: 1.054

Bang Chan

Whenever Chan would find you crying, he would immediately hug you. He would ask you what happened in the softest voice. He would hand you one of his hoodies, knowing the smell alone would bring you comfort. The man wouldn't leave your side until you're ready to talk. It doesn't even matter if you're fighting. He would put everything aside and focus on making you feel better. And on the days when you would just need to cry it out, he would be there for you, too. If you'd worry about getting his shirt wet from your tears, he would tell you not to worry. "The shirt will dry eventually. As long as your tears do the same." He'd know exactly what to do. You need cuddles? The bed would be turned into the most comfortable place you've ever seen. You want a distraction? He would talk to you about his day in the studio. You need some cheering up? You best know this man will jump up and do a silly dance.

Chan would do whatever he needed to turn that frown upside down.

Lee Minho

Lee Know would always make sure you would have a warm meal. Even when he's on tour or has training until late at night, he would have either left something in the fridge for you to pop into the microwave, or he would order something the moment he knows you're home. He would make you the best soups on days when you're sick with a flu. Whenever you struggle to eat for any reason, Minho would sit by your side, encouraging every single bite. Hell, he'd even drive two hours if that's where he'd get the one thing you'd be able to get down.

Minho would do whatever necessary, to make sure you eat.

Seo Changbin

If you were ever bored, Changbin would make it his personal mission to cure any and all boredom. He would turn into a spontaneous ball of giggles. You're bored of the movie? He would jump up and drag you out on a walk. Too bored to be at home? Binnie would find out where the next amusement-park is set-up. This man would be up for anything, as long as it meant you wouldn't have to be bored anymore. Be careful what you say, though. He would absolutely drag you out of your comfy position in bed at 3 am, if you ask for entertainment,

Changbin would jump up in seconds to keep boredom far away from you.

Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin would almost beg you to let him draw you. "You don't even have to do anything! You can just sit there and be as pretty as always!", he would say. In any situation, too. You could have the worst bed-head, wear dirty clothes, even have some dried up drool in the corners of your mouth. This man is convinced you're the most beautiful person in any room. He's sketched you whole cooking, drawn you while cuddling in bed and even did a painting of you cleaning. (He made up for not helping by doing the next cleaning session alone.)

Hyunjin would take every opportunity to have your beauty immortalized.

Han Jisung

Every couple of weeks Han would come back from the studio, giggling, jumping around, shouting that he had something he wanted to show you. Of course, he had written countless songs about you. Some of them published, some he'd shown you and some he will forever keep to himself. But eventually him writing songs about you, turned into him writing songs for you. Whenever you had a song you really liked, muttering how you wished there were more songs like it, it would lead to this ace to spend all his alone-time creating a similar piece of music for you. You had a whole playlist of songs he wrote for you. One time he came back with a whole CD, all of which included new music he made just for you. He even asks different idols to sing parts of it, sometimes.

Han would spend months making songs just for you.

Lee Felix

Felix wanting the reader to braid his hair

You braided Felix' hair one time, when you were in bed together, talking about everything and nothing. Ever since then he would constantly beg for you to do it again. While enjoying skinship, he never liked having people touch his hair. But when you do it? The boy melts. He starts to blush and smile and hide his face wherever he can. Yet he still continuously asks for you to style his hair. It's a sign of trust he doesn't give out easily. He loves the feeling of your hands going through his hair, getting out knots and making it look pretty. Even when you mess with him and ruffle through his (usually) blonde mane, he still doesn't mind.

Felix would cancel any plans, just so you could braid his hair.

Kim Seungmin

Seungmin was never a big fighter. He would solve any arguments rationally and kindly. He's not an argumentative person. Yet whenever you were out together and he sensed danger, the need to protect you would get stronger. He would whisper, "Stay behind me, no matter what!" The singer would puff out his chest and confront any danger. He would get mean and he would fight, if he had to. It's not that he would enjoy it. But if it's to shield you, he'd be willing to do it. Seungmin doesn't enjoy violence whatsoever, but if he has to he will use it.

Seungmin would do whatever it takes to keep you safe.

Yang Jeongin

The maknae had no idea how much he enjoyed picking your outfit and accessories, until you were in a rush once and asked for his help with it. He knows his way around fashion and you're aware of that. So asking him to pick out your clothes was unexpected but probably one of the best decisions you ever made. Whenever you go on a date now, he asks if he can help style you. He always makes sure to suggest things he knows will make you shine. And if you ever don't feel like being all dressed up, he will immediately dig through his own closet - giving you the comfiest hoodie he owns.

Jeongin would never turn down an opportunity to help you with an outfit.

Taglist: @bokkiesplace @notastraykid @hee0soo @moon0fthenight @bbyquokka @strawberry31 @weird-bookworm

#amyysfics #stray kids #skz #x reader #skz imagine #stray kids imagine #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #soft #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #felix #seungmin #in

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alatushours · 1 year ago

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☆ TENDER MOMENTS, genshin men — little things they do that never fail to make your heart flutter.

contents. features xiao, albedo, scaramouche & kazuha. established relationships. gender neutral reader. modern au. lots of fluff ! ! kinda crack in scara’s part lol tw. implied insomnia in xiao’s part ♡ word count. 594

notes. hi there, welcome back! thank you for all of the likes on my previous ‘enchanted’ piece, i appreciate it <3 here’s a little drabble with some of my favorite genshin short kings ! ! all of them are 5’3” except xiao WHO IS AN INCH SHORTER :sobs: how could hoyoverse do that to my baby >_< it’s okay xiao will always be taller in my heart 😍

xiao always answers your calls. no matter what time of day it is or what he’s in the middle of doing, he will always pick up the phone.

whenever you facetime him at two in the morning because you can’t sleep, the first thing he says when he accepts the call is, “do you want me to come over?”

before long you’re huddled up in bed with your head against your boyfriend's chest, his tattooed arms snug around your waist. “is this better?” xiao jokes, pulling the blankets tighter around your bare shoulders.

“much better,” you say, burying yourself deeper in the crook of his neck. “i love you.” the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the feeling of his fingers stroking your hair is enough to make your fall fast asleep soon after.

xiao smiles and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. “sweet dreams, my love.”

albedo always takes the time to make you lunch to bring to work in the mornings. your health is his number one priority, and he wants to make sure you always having something healthy and filling to eat.

he’s always been an early riser, so it fits perfectly within his morning routine to pack you lunch. it’ll be something different every day; some days it’s a signature mondstadt salad, and other days it might be an inazuma-style bento box, like the one you said you wanted to try when you saw it at the grocery store with him.

sometimes you’ll wake up and go down to the kitchen to find him in the middle of preparing your lunch; he’ll kiss you good morning as he cuts up apple slices.

when you wake up on your afternoon shift days, you’ll notice the neatly packed container of food sitting on the kitchen counter, along with a bottle of water and a handwritten sticky note on the box’s lid with be sure to eat. i love you. -albedo

scaramouche supports you on all of your social media platforms. as a former internet influencer, he shows his love by helping you grow more popular.

one day, all of scara’s instagram followers were shocked when they saw the “0 following” turn into “1 following.” that one person, was you. not long after that, he posted a new story full of silly pictures of you and him, captioned “i wanna punch them (with my lips).”

scaramouche’s contact name for you is “my idiot 🖤” and though he’ll never admit it, he’s always stealing a glance at his phone to check if you texted him or not.

the moment you type “hi” he’ll respond with “what do you want” 0.000012875 seconds after you sent it. you’re always shocked, “how do you reply so fast ??” and then he leaves you on read 💀

kazuha leaves little notes for you everywhere. in between the pages of your notebook, stuck to the bathroom mirror, on top of your laptop.

the notes are short, but always so sweet; things like “i left a little surprise for you :)” with a handmade gift or a cheesy joke such as “are you the sun? because my whole world revolves around you. ;D”

he’ll always draw adorable little doodles of cats and leaves on the notes, and maybe even write a love poem for you if there’s enough space.

every note always manages to bring a smile to your face; you keep all of his notes in a mini album to carry around with you, so whenever you’re away or feeling sad you can take it out and read his sweet, loving words.

ending notes. and there you have it! this was so much less stressful than enchanted but it still took me a few days to finish it :/ sorry for the late night post but this was very cute and much easier to write, so i hope you enjoyed reading as much as i enjoyed writing ! ! ♡

© alatushours 2023. please do not copy, modify, or translate my work in any way, nor upload to any other platforms. in the meantime, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and consider leaving a follow! it helps a lot ♡

#໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა mari writes !#happy first day of december ! !#genshin impact #xiao x reader #albedo x reader #kazuha x reader #scara x reader #xiao fluff #albedo fluff #kazuha fluff #scara fluff

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yatzstar · 3 months ago

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Secret (Sister) Weapon

Hey all, this is a rarity for me to post an actual piece of writing over here, but I came across @star-farer’s ik’aad AU for The Bad Batch and it was so cute I had an idea I couldn’t resist! Featuring a young Omega at age 4-ish and her group of brotherdads, a gigantic piece of fluff.

“I’m winning!”

“No you’re not! This isn’t a competition.”

“Yes it is!”

“No, it’s not! This is sparring.”

From her position against Wrecker’s leg, Omega watched the argument between Hunter and Crosshair unfold. Above her, Wrecker sighed. “They’re being silly again.”

Omega tilted her head back to look at him, nodding with a sageness that was amusing on such a small face. “Vewy silly.”

Wrecker shot her a grin before calling out, “Just call it a competition and go already!”

Hunter gave Wrecker a look that earned a giggle from Omega. “Alright, I’m going to win.”

Crosshair smirked, spitting out his toothpick. “Oh yeah? We’ll see…”

A few seconds later, Hunter hit the ground, his face digging into the soft grass as Crosshair pressed down on the arm twisted behind his back.

“Nice try,” Crosshair leered, resisting Hunter’s attempts to free himself. “I win.”

Hunter twisted his head to glare at Crosshair, and in doing so caught the wide, enraptured eyes of the little girl a few feet away. Being pinned in front of her, even if her greatest concern was where her latest scribbles of drawing were going to hang, added an extra layer to the humiliation. Unless…

“Omega!” Hunter’s call grabbed Omega’s attention, her little face beginning to break into a smile with the anticipation of what came next.

“Shut up,” Crosshair hissed, pressing harder on his arm. “Don’t you do it.”

Undeterred, Hunter extended his free arm dramatically, crying out, “Omega, help me!”

Omega was on her feet at once, using Wrecker’s leg as a means to lever herself up as she replied with all the strength a child’s voice could muster: “I’ll save you Hun’er!”

“Cheater.” Crosshair’s accusation was nearly lost beneath a giggling yell as Omega came charging toward them, her limbs flailing in the wild, ungainly manner of children. She stumbled and nearly fell over her own feet, but somehow kept her balance long enough for her to plow into Crosshair’s leg.

Though Crosshair complained about the fairness of it, he was still compelled to play along. The force of Omega’s impact against him was little more than a small nudge, but he flung himself off of Hunter with dramatic flair, flopping onto the grass. He was rewarded with Omega’s delighted laughter at her “victory”.

Hunter rolled onto his back, grabbing Omega and lifting her onto his chest. “I knew I could count on you.”

Omega beamed at him. “Saved you.”

“You did. You’re the strongest of us all.”

Omega turned her attention on her victim, who still lay sprawled in the grass. When Crosshair did not move, a frown of concern appeared on her face, and she slid off of Hunter, crawling over to him. She grabbed his shoulder, shaking him with what little strength she had. “…Cwoss?” Her question turned into a surprised shriek as Crosshair moved like a striking snake, snatching her up in a single deft motion.

“You have to remember that sneak attacks are always a possibility.” Crosshair smirked, standing up and taking Omega with him.

Omega fought back, tiny hands pulling at the arm that held her securely. “Le’go’a me!”

“I don’t think so.” Crosshair pulled the little girl in close, all but cuddling her as he ignored the flailing limbs. “You’re too strong to waste on those idiots.”

Omega’s fighting halted with a small, scandalized gasp as she craned her neck to glare at him, her face pinched in a scowl. “Tha’s mean!”

“Yeah, that’s mean,” Hunter agreed with faux hurt, pushing himself to his feet. “You don’t deserve to steal her.”

Crosshair’s lips curled into a devilish grin, jostling Omega just enough to make her squeal. “Just try and stop me.”

Wrecker stood up, catching Hunter’s eye. “Don’t worry, Omega! We’ll save you!”

Omega’s frown turned into a smile, then into outright laughter as a chase began, Crosshair running with her bundled in his arms while Hunter and Wrecker pursued. Initially, Hunter and Wrecker were not trying that hard, but it became clear that Crosshair was fully committed when he put a sizeable amount of distance between them. Then the chase picked up, Hunter and Wrecker sprinting outright to try and catch up with Crosshair, who had always been the best runner among them. Around the Marauder they went, Hunter and Wrecker splitting up to try and flank Crosshair, but he artfully dodged their attempts. Omega laughed all the while, especially when Crosshair “accidentally” tripped Wrecker and almost sent him sprawling, pushing her into breathless hysterics.

“How are you tormenting the poor child now, dare I ask?”

Crosshair slowed slightly as he came around the Marauder’s front, meeting Tech’s vaguely amused gaze from where he stood on the ramp. “Hunter cheated again.”

Tech rolled his eyes, though he cracked a smile. “Ah, yes. There’s no fair way of winning in that situation.”

Hunter came thundering after Crosshair, Wrecker close behind him. “Give her back!”

“Not a chance,” Crosshair hissed with no real malice, hoisting Omega like a sack as he tried to keep distance between himself and his brothers. “You can’t win without her.”

Hunter and Wrecker leapt forward with renewed determination, and Omega fell into another fit of laughter as Crosshair dodged and twisted to keep her away from their grasping hands. This went on for several moments before Tech said, “You should let her breathe. She’s redder than a jellyfruit.”

The brothers finally paused, looking at Omega. Her face had become deeply flushed from laughing, making her blonde curls appear all the paler as she dangled in Crosshair’s arms. When she spotted Tech, she stretched out a small hand, gasping through residual giggles: “Tick, ‘elp meee!”

Crosshair hesitated to release her, but when Tech took a menacing step forward, he gave her up, carefully setting her down. “Alright, alright. I don’t need all three of you on me.”

Omega took one step and immediately stumbled, all the previous motion upending her balance. She almost went face-first into the grass before Tech’s hands appeared to save her.

“What have they done to you, my dear?” Tech asked, brushing stray hairs from her face as he settled her in the crook of his arm.

“Dizzy,” Omega declared, flopping against him.

“I see. It will pass.” Tech turned an unimpressed look on his brothers. “Maybe now you can get some real training done.”

Crosshair scoffed, rolling his shoulders. “Because Hunter can’t cheat anymore. She never saves me.”

“Nuh-uh!” Omega raised her head, looking greatly affronted. “I saved you…” She trailed off, frowning at her own fingers as she tried to come up with the number.

“Three,” Tech whispered in her ear.

“Fwee times!” Omega declared, showing three fingers for emphasis.

“As opposed to Hunter’s ten,” Crosshair muttered, aiming a halfhearted glare Hunter’s way.

“Those numbers seem indicative of who the better combatant is, if nothing else,” Tech said.

Wrecker laughed, and Crosshair smirked as Hunter narrowed his eyes. “Whose side are you on?”

Tech shrugged. “No one’s, but I suppose Crosshair could stand to have a little help next time. What do you think, sweet one?”

Omega nodded earnestly. “I’ll help him, pwomise!”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Crosshair said, his tone serious though his eyes betrayed his mirth.

“You’ll have to wait,” Tech murmured as Omega sighed softly, her head dropping against his shoulder again. A nap was not far away. “I believe our secret weapon is running low on energy, but with the removal of such an unbeatable opponent, I think the next sparring round is bound to be more fair.”

“But what if Cwoss needs ‘elp?” Omega mumbled, clearly torn between her duty and her oncoming fatigue.

“I’ll be just fine,” Crosshair said, reaching out to smooth her messy hair and assuage her concern.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Wrecker assured her. “I’ll help him out!”

Hunter turned on him with a frown. “I don’t think so…”

Omega giggled tiredly at the ensuing squabble, and Tech sighed. “They’ll sort it out, maybe. In the meantime, would you like for me to read you a story?”

“Yes, p’ease,” Omega said, her words broken by a yawn.

By the time they made it onto the ship, she was already half-asleep.

#sw #the bad batch #crosshair #omega #hunter #wrecker #tech #star wars #tbb #tcw #the clone wars #ik’aad #young omega #baby omega #au #my fic

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justanamesstuff · 2 years ago

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Unrequited love backstage - Matty Healy x f!reader

Part 2 of Unrequited love at the studio.

A/N: Guys, don't expect this every week/weekend, but I got a little obsessed with this concept. I'm a sucker for this kind of angsty vibe, unrequited love, friends paining, etc. HOPE YOU LIKE IT.

Warnings: paining, fluff, little angst, typos.

Word count: 1.7 k

Blog masterlist

Part 1

Y/n entered the dressing room excited about the show. She was meant to give some words of encouragement to the boys before going to her seat. Matty was the only one inside the room. He was standing in all his glory in front of the big mirror, fighting with his tie.

Matty’s friend whistled for him, trying to get his attention. He turned to his side; Matty glanced at Y/n annoyed. Y/n arched her eyebrows, silently asking. They could read each other’s mind without even speaking sometimes.

“Can you help me with the tie?” he punctuated his question by sliding the tie off his neck.

Matty extended the piece of clothing towards Y/n. It was kind of an offer to her, a silent way to say ‘come closer’. His hand was moving anxiously between them. Y/n step forward, carefully, analysing his aura.

The show that night was the biggest one the band was going to offer for the fans up to that moment. Y/n empathized with Matty. Her stomach was twisting, her chest hurt a little with all the anticipation; and she wasn’t going to perform.

Y/n came closer, taking the tie on her hand. She let the piece round her own neck, so she can reach for the collar of his shirt, pulling it up. “Haven’t you done it like a hundred times?” she asked him in a funny tone.

Seconds later, Y/n placed Matty’s tie around his neck. She reached behind his head, bringing both ends of it to the front of his shirt. Matty’s breath was fanning over her face. He was close.

He was focused on every one of her actions. “Yes, but my hands are shaking…” the frontman admitted.

It wasn’t a total lie. Matty was nervous about the night, he wanted Y/n close as well. He wasn’t going to tell her that, though.

“Aww, are you nervous, baby boy?” Matty tried hard not to blush. He was putty on her hands when she addressed him with nicknames, silly ones were his favourite.

He scoffed, “Man.”

“Right, I always forget.” Y/n looked up at him, detaching her sight from the tie for a single second. She sensed Matty pinching her left hip, Y/n whined and laughed about it. Matty let his hands rest there. He needed physical contact with Y/n.

The way she showed the tip of her tongue while she was focused on doing the perfect knot for him warmed Matty’s heart. Her soft lips, the bridge of her nose, her eyes, everything about her enamoured him. She was perfect for his eyes.

“You know this is one of my favourite outfits on you?” Y/n confessed, bringing him out of his trance.

Matty wasn’t expecting her revelation, although the apple of her cheeks turning red excited the singer. “All black?”

“Yeah.” Y/n declared, without looking up to his face. She finally finished the knot, tagging the short bit under, so it was right in place.

“Are you blushing, baby girl?” Matty teased her, bringing the collar down, hiding the tie around his neck.

Y/n pushed his chest, leaning backwards far from him. “Shut up!” she exclaimed.

Matty studied her factions. Y/n was indeed embarrassed about admitting –partially– she fancied him in that outfit.

“Oh, you are!” he tried to bring her back into his embrace, rounding her with his strong arms.

Y/n tried to change the subject, patting the centre of his chest where the tie laid. “There, all tied up!”

“Kinky.”

“You’re impossible…”

Y/n blanked her eyes at his comment. She decided it was time to leave and wait with the rest of the crowd for the guys to perform.

Matty tensed the muscles of his arms, preventing her from leaving. They were chest to chest close. “Don’t go.” He begged in a whisper, drawing little circles on the upper part of her back.

Y/n dared to look at his hazel eyes, “You need to warm up and all of that, Matt.” she reminded him.

Matty ignored her words, bringing Y/n impossibly closer to his body. “Just one more second…” he said, going to hide his face on her neck, resting his cheek on her shoulder.

Y/n let him, sneaking her arms over Matty’s shoulders. Her mouth touched, slightly, the lobe of his left ear. “You’re going to smash it, handsome!” Y/n’s breath touching his skin sent shivers down his spine.

“Mmm.” Matty let out, lost in her essence, her touch, everything about her.

After a few minutes, rocking their bodies –still intertwined- slowly from side to side, Y/n’s sight fell on the clock adoring the wall. It was time to go now.

“Okay, time to shine. I’ll go get my seat.” Y/n pushed back, looking at his face.

Matty smiled at her, bumping her nose, while telling her, “I’ll see you later, alligator.”

He let her go, but kept his attention on her body moving toward the door. Suddenly, she turned around, smiling wide.

“Break a leg!”

“I don’t want to break-“ Matty went to joke about it, but Y/n’s words shut him.

“Don’t dedicate a song to me!” Y/n interrupted, bringing to present a previous situation with Matty.

She hated to be the centre of attention. Once, during a show, he didn’t name her but explained that the next song they were going to play was dedicated to one of his closest friends, someone he adored deeply. Y/n knew it was about her when they started playing her favourite song; the one she admitted to absolutely adore, after Matty’s insistence. Y/n complained about it after the show but ended up thanking him as well. It was a song they rarely played, so she couldn’t deny it was a nice gesture.

“We’ll see about that…” Matty responded cheekily.

“Healy, I’ll break your leg myself if you do that again!”

“Insignificant threats.” he brushed her off.

Y/n stared at his eyes, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. “Do it and face the consequences.” she warned him, pointing at his face with her finger.

“Oh, come on…last time, you cried and then hugged me. That was all the damage…” Matty recalled the events as they were. Y/n blushed again.

Before she could add anything else, George’s voice came from behind her back, “What damage?” he asked.

“He’s threaten with dedicate me a song again…” Y/n shared with G.

George looked between the pair, he laughed at Matty’s face. “Whipped Matty.” he stated, faking coughing. He passed by Y/n’s side, touching her shoulder as a greeting.

“Fuck you, George!”

“If you’re going to fuck George, at least wait for us to leave.” Adam said with a polite tone, entering the room.

Ross shivered in horror thinking about what Adam said, “I don’t need those images in my mind.” his shoulders shaking dramatically.

Y/n loved the whole band and crew, they were a second family for her. All of them were friendly and welcoming. She watched the guys interact like adolescents. Y/n had to leave.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys to it…good luck!” she wished them all.

They chanted in unison “Bye, Y/n” and “Enjoy the show!” except for Matty. He ran to the door, setting his eyes on her back while she walked down the hall.

He stood at the door frame of the dressing room, shouting, “I’m between ‘Settle Down’, ‘Don’t Worry’” he continued messing with her about dedicating a song. Knowing the reaction he would get with the mention of another song she liked, Matty smirked wide kept talking, “or ‘Antichrist’” As he expected, Y/n turned around with the mention of it.

“Would you do that?” Y/n questioned him, sceptic.

Matty crackled. “‘Course not.” Y/n’s face turn out to an annoyed one, she turned her back instantly making Matty laughed. “Maybe if you ask nicely,” he kept going. “I would do it just for you, love!”

But Y/n was done with his tricks and jokes, she continued walking far from him.

“Whatever!” she answered him without looking, soon enough she disappeared from Matty’s sight.

He walked back inside, smiling, calmer than before Y/n showed up. Once inside, the guys burst into a group laugh. Matty looked at them puzzled.

“Oh, man…” Ross went to patted him on the shoulder.

“What?” he asked at his mate.

“He's down badly, right?” George talked directly to Adam and Ross, ignoring Matty –who was trying to get what they were talking about–.

Adam nodded, “He’s all hearts and kisses when she’s around.” he presented his facts.

“What on earth are you dickheads talking about?” Matty tried to make eye contact with them, and get real answers, but the guys continued to not pay attention to the frontman.

Ross took pity on him. “You and Y/n.” he clarified.

Matty still didn’t get what they were implying exactly.

“What about it?”

“You’re down boy.” Adam said finally.

Matty half laughed, surprised by Adam’s sayings. “She’s my best friend.”

Inside, Matty was trying to keep his calm. He was so sure the rest of the world didn’t know about his feelings for her. He sometimes tried to ignore them. Lately it was harder and harder. Although, he wasn’t in no position to admitted out loud.

George interfered. “We’re almost your brothers, and you don’t offer to dedicate songs…”

“I’m messing with her!”

“You don’t cuddle us…” G continued.

“I- She’s my friend.” he repeated his statement, less convinced than before. Once his own voice reached his ears, he wanted to facepalm himself.

“Sure, Matty.”

Matty stared at the floor, saying, “It’s not like that with her. She’s not into me, and I-“ he stopped talking.

They waited, giving him time. “And you?” Ross encouraged him to continue after a few minutes.

Matty stared at his best friends, finding in their faces something he couldn’t quite place but dislike enormously.

“Forget it. We have a show to do!” he made his way to the door.

“Poor thing…” Adam said, Ross and George agreed, shaking their heads.

“Agh!” Matty screamed when he heard.

‘Did Y/n noticed he was down bad for her?’, he worried.

Part 3

#matty healy #matty healy fic #george daniel #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader #the 1975 #matty healy imagine #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #adam hann #ross macdonald #matty 1975 #matty the 1975

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veintrry · 2 years ago

Text

WORDS OF INK.

writer!kunikuzushi x gn!reader, fluff, romance, little short thing, library au, silly guy silly feelings. Not proofread!

an: hello to me spawning suddenly again 🫶 (I'm going through hell with these exams, help.) part two

When a skilled writer who's more than capable of writing only the finest of letters for others is requested by a common visitor to fulfill a request, he founds a new worry surround him alongside an outcome he never would have foreseen.

Misery. That is how he'd describe how love felt. It was a gruelling battle and archons, he had begun rethinking all the love letters he's written for others now that he has felt it for himself. Is this what people feel, this unbridled attachment, this need for connection like a course of electricity throughout two wires - a conversation?

He hadn't taken note of you before, you had begun to walk by this library, your eyes skimming the titles on display. You who'd enter and go to the bookshelves in the back where only your shadow confirmed your presence. And you'd stay there for what felt like ages, browsing, reading, seemingly spending your free time here. For a while it stayed that way and you were merely just someone who visited. I mean, he didn't really notice that much, after all, he didn't even work in that part of the library!

He just so happened to notice from his uncomfortable wooden seat when you'd enter. The ring of the door bell jingles was different when you pushed it and his eyes would shoot over to the entrance like a dog waiting for its owner to appear. He didn't even know you, god.

One day, however, a poster was put up, it was an announcement for a deal regarding the letters. Some may say having someone else write your letters takes the fun out of them, though the point was to word it in a more appealing way, a way that captured the buyers want. These letters varied, but many would request writing regarding loved ones from family to friends to lovers. And he'd write them, the stroke of his pen drawing lines that formed letters and then made words and then... created life. Yet he didn't feel it himself, but others did. He was good at it, they said.

You noticed that poster and therefore, you noticed him.

Your request was simple, you desired a love letter. He asked you what you wanted to express and you simply told him to write what he believes was best. He though that was a bit shallow, he didn't expect that from you but maybe he was wrong to make an assumption on your character when he barely knew you. So he wrote what he believe would be most appealing, he wrote using the descriptions you gave him and the ink that tainted the paper black drew a painting of love with phrases and personifications. He gave it to you and you beamed. There was.. something nice about that.

You came again two weeks later, you wanted another. So he asked you again, what you wanted to express and you answered the same. So he wrote what he felt was best again. He gave it to you, your hands gripped the paper open envelope gently as you read the letter and there was a glimmer in your orbs. In a sense, he felt he could... express his own emotions this way, though he felt bitter. Not only did he not manage to have a proper conversation with you, but he was writing letters for you for someone else.

You came again four days after. Quite the passionate lover you are and he asks you if you want the same thing and you nod your head, watching as he pulls out a fresh crisp piece of paper, he raises a brow at your presence still near him and you ask him if you can watch.

He doesn't know how to reply. There's a silence that follows.

"Just... don't interrupt me."

His tone makes it sounds like he's biting the inside of his bottom lip, almost bothered by your request. As he writes he feels that though the words form with ease, thoughts.. worries, taint his mind. Did you desire to observe him to perhaps replicate what he does, to do what he does for you for your lover? To make these yourself for them? That he will lose what little connection he holds to you? The fingers of his free hand tap on the wooden oak desk. Your gaze is so focused onto him, he can feel you looming behind him, your attentive eye picking up on everything.

When he finishes, he's just about to ask you to write your own signature, so maybe he can view you for a change but when he turns around he finds himself doing something he shouldn't. A nonsensical stupid question leaves his mouth, "What's...your name?" And you tilt your head at him, like he had spoken something outrageous, because he had. He knows your name, you registered it when you applied for the product, you listed it because how else would the facility know its actually you?

And yet, you humour him. You answer him and he finds himself melting at the mere sound of your name not because this is new information but because you're telling this to him, clearly knowing that it's something he is already aware of. Then, you return his question. He blankly stares at you, then turns away whilst his hand beckons you forward with the hilt of the pen. "...Call me whatever you'd like."

You take this as him possibly keeping his privacy or being mysterious, you lean forward taking the pen from his grasp and he feels his ears burn as your fingers graze his, the warmth of your skin feels like it burned his hand and... he liked it. As you bend you notice his hand over his mouth as he obviously avoids your gaze without shame. You let out an airy chuckle but you notice his name title, pinned onto the chest of his vest. "Ku-ni-ku-zu-shi." How you spelled it out makes it sound like you were trying to engrain it into your memory but as he hears you speak that name he sharply turns to you, before his eyes move to where you're looking and let's out a small 'oh'.

Maybe he wasn't as reserved and brooding as you initially thought on first glance.

Only in this moment does he realise something. The name you had been addressing the letters to, was your own. Had you perhaps been so stupid as to not know how a letters format works?

You tilt the pen towards him and he appears confused, the spot where your signature was meant to be is still empty as it always is. "Can you sign it off for me?"

And lord knows the shock he had to hold back at your words. Yet, he dismisses it. He's looking to deep into it, yes, that's the case... "Why?" He wasn't meant to say that aloud. "I... want you to do it." It's a bad reasoning, in fact, he wouldn't even consider it a reason in general, but can he decline you, is it even fine he does this? Though as he debates this his fingers bend the ballpoint pen down, writing his name flawlessly in black. Crap.

You giggle. He thinks he feels his breathing quicken. Kunikuzushi opens his mouth to announce something anything, and- "There's a spring deal that you get two letters for one!" No, there isn't.

"That would mean you still have to collect the other one." What the hell am I saying?!

"Tomorrow. Come here again."

Why did I make it sound like some forced date??

"Okay?" Don't agree, don't agree, don't agree. You give the tiniest of smiles, only he would notice the slight quirk at the corner of your lips. "Alright!"

He waits for you to leave the library, letter in hand as you walk with a bounce outside, the jingle affirming your departure.

...

Fuck.

He tucks his own face into his folded arms, groaning loudly as if he had just made the worst decision of his life and in truth, he might've. But the worst part, the worst worst part, is that he can't stop himself from think that small encounter you had. And he hates to admit it, but he was so glad you didn't say no, that you didn't reject the offer - didn't reject him.

#wanderer #kunikuzushi #wanderer genshin #genshin kunikuzushi #wanderer x reader #genshin impact #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer headcanons #kunikuzushi fluff #scaramouche headcanons #scara x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fluff #genshin impact wanderer #genshin impact kunikuzushi #scaramouche genshin impact

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winchesterszvonecek · 1 year ago

Text

Big Hug Mug - [ Brian ‘Otis’ Zvonecek ]

Summary: You accidentally break Otis’s favourite mug and his reaction was not at all what you expected it to be

Word Count: 1700

Warnings: female!reader, fluff

Masterlist | Otis Masterlist

There was an unspoken rule within the walls of firehouse fifty-one. A rule that nobody dared break should they face the unbearable consequences, that were basically just Otis sulking for the remainder of shift, no matter what may have happened regardless.

Seriously, he could have won the lottery and yet he’d still sulk if anyone broke the rule.

You knew this rule. Hell, you helped implement this rule into society and even went as far as to draw up a little notice to stick next to the coffee machine and yet today… Today you broke that rule.

You used Otis’s mug.

And to make matters worse, you didn’t just break the rule, but you broke the mug as well. You broke the big hug mug and the second it hit the ground, you knew you were done for.

To be fair, technically Capp broke the mug by throwing a football around inside and knocking it out of your hands, but still. You’d used the mug and if you hadn’t? Well, let’s just say it would have been in one piece still sitting on the counter rather than in multiple pieces and scattered all over the floor along with your coffee.

“Oh no. Oh no, no, no.” You mumbled to yourself, practically falling to your knees in the middle of the common room, where the camaraderie within had died down severely after the smashing of the mug. “Otis is going to kill me.”

“We’ll give you a good funeral.” Mouch muttered, earning a few stifled chuckles from the others and a stern glare from you.

“Shut it, Mouch.” You gritted, your jaw tensing as your eyes dropped back down to the mess on the floor. You picked up a piece of pale orange mug, running your thumb lightly over the broken words that once spelled out ‘big hug mug’.

You knew how much Otis liked this mug. How much he loved it. He was always going on and on about how it was the perfect shape. The perfect size. How it seemed to keep his coffee warmer for longer and how the exterior didn’t get too hot which meant he could hold it without burning his hands.

Even the shape of the handle was something he often talked about, how his fingers fit perfectly around it without any discomfort as most of the mugs in the firehouse had small handles, making for awkward holding and a lot of near misses.

Otis really treasured this mug and now it was broken.

You had broken it and even though it may sound silly to some people, you were really afraid that he wouldn’t be able to forgive you for doing so. Which would be even worse now given the fact that you were dating.

After a hellishly long year of pining for one another you were finally dating. You were finally happy, together, and maybe even a little in love too. And now all that could end up crumbling beneath you because you broke the one rule you swore you’d never break.

“Where is Otis right now?” You glanced up, your eyes wide as you shifted them around the room, only getting shrugs in response which had you grumbling in annoyance. “Don’t all jump in to help me at once.”

“I think he’s in the bunk room.” Cruz replied, a touch of sympathy slipping through his lips as even as Otis’s best friend, he never dared use that mug.

“Okay, maybe this won’t be so bad then. Maybe I can fix it before he notices… Right?” You chewed at your lip, which was actually wobbling a little as you began to grow nervous.

“I hate to say it, kid.” Herrmann said softly, crouching down in front of you and picking up a small piece of the mug, the ceramic crumbling between his fingers. “But I think the mug is done for.”

“You’re right.” You whined quietly, hiding your face in your hands and taking a few deep breaths as you actually felt rather sick over the whole ordeal. To the point where your hands physically shook and your stomach tightened to where you thought your torso was about to snap in half. “Oh, I have to tell him, don't I?”

“Or…” Mouch dragged out, gaining your attention. “You hide the evidence and blame it on third shift.”

“Interesting.” You pondered, chewing at the skin of your lip as that wasn’t a half bad idea. But you knew it was wrong. Otis was your boyfriend and he deserved to know the truth. You shook your head, beginning to gather up all the broken pieces. “No. No, I can’t do that. I can’t lie to him. I’ll just tell him the truth. Capp broke it.”

“Hey!”

“Well if you hadn’t been throwing that football around like a child, it wouldn’t have broken now, would it?” You pointed out, raising your eyebrow as you got to your feet.

A rather excellent point if you did say so yourself.

“You don’t know that.” Capp replied, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t have been using it. And you shouldn’t have gotten in my way.”

“You shouldn’t have been throwing a ball around inside.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Herrmann said in a way far too similar to the tone he used with his kids. “All this yammering ain’t gonna fix that mug. Now you got two choices here…” He turned to you, innocence clouding your face that had been firing looks towards Capp. “You do what Mouch said and blame somebody else…”

“A wise choice.”

“…Or you tell Otis the truth.” Herrmann finished, ignoring Mouch’s comment. “It’s your call.”

As tempting as the first choice was, you knew you couldn’t lie to him and so you picked the right one. The one that wouldn’t eat away at you inside as you never were good at lying, or keeping them rather. You knew it would come blurting out of your mouth at some stage and you’d rather it be now than later as that way, if Otis hated you for it, it might not hurt as bad.

You sucked in a breath, holding it until your legs had carried you all the way down the corridor and once you reached the bunk room doors, it burst out of you all trembling, making you want to turn tail and run as far away as you could. But you didn’t. It was only a mug. It was a piece of coloured ceramic and it really wasn’t something you should be worried about.

But you were. You were so worried and yet to your surprise, you still managed to push open the bunk room door and walk all the way over to Otis without passing out completely or throwing up on the floor.

“Hey baby.” Otis said with a smile the second he glanced up from his book. Only, when he saw the look on your face that smile dropped quicker than his mug had only minutes ago. “Hey, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I have to tell you something.” You mumbled, biting at the skin around your nails as you took a rather slow seat on the end of his bunk, the soft creak of it making you jump a little. “I did something…”

“You did something?” Otis repeated, a nervous chuckle leaving his lips as he shuffled closer to you, swinging his legs over the edge of the bunk to mirror your position. He couldn't help but feel sick. Couldn’t help his mind from racing with the idea that you were about to tell him you’d cheated on him.

“Mhm.” You nodded, dropping your hand from around your mouth and allowing it to settle on your lap, which your gaze fell to. “I broke your mug.”

“Wait, what?” Otis asked, his eyes squinting a little as you finally brought your focus up to his confusion riddled face.

“I broke your mug.” You said louder and more clearly, your brow furrowing when all Otis did was laugh softly to himself in a way that showcased those cute dimples of his. “You’re laughing… Why are you laughing? Didn’t you hear me?”

“I heard you.” Otis nodded, shaking his head as another laugh escaped his lips. “You just looked so nervous I thought you were about to tell me you cheated on me or something.”

“What? I would never cheat on you.” You defended, unsure where you should feel offended or not. “I was just… Scared because I know how much you love that mug, that’s all. And I didn’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Oh, baby, I’m not mad at you.” Otis said softly, cupping your face with both hands and bringing it to look up at him. “I could never be mad at you.”

“But I broke your favourite mug.” You whispered, the small pout on your face almost breaking Otis’s heart had it not been so downright cute.

“I know. And yeah, I’m a little annoyed but I’m sure it was an accident.” He replied, running his thumb lightly over your cheek in a way that had all your silly worries fall from within you. “It was just a mug and I may have loved it, but baby, I love you more.”

“You love me?” Your eyes widened, your face lifting beneath Otis’s touch as that was the first time those words had ever passed either of your lips.

“I do.” Otis nodded, his hand dropping from your cheek to gently hold the side of your neck, where he was able to feel the increased beat of your pulse beneath your skin. “I love you… And I have from the very moment I met you.”

“I love you too.” You whispered, your vision blurring a little from the tears that formed in your eyes.

You leaned in, pressing your lips softly against his and the moment they connected, he took control. His fingers thread through your hair, pulling you closer as he kissed you deeply. And with each brush of his moustache over your skin and the heat of his tongue against yours, it quickly made you forget all about what happened. As Otis was right… It was just a mug.

Like this? Apply to my Otis tag list here!

tagging: @sancochillo @kellykidd @violetmacher @kiddbegins @neapolitantoebeans @alexxavicry @babyyoda89 @wandamaxim0f @bloodybagels @stephydearestxo @evanbuckbuckley @annchersita @doublebassallie @orileyrandom @sjhhemmings @gretsky0321

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