#a soft blanket and a big cup of hot chocolate | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maopll · 3 months

Note

Merry (early) Christmas! May I request Kaeya, Childe, Ayato, Neuvillette, and Wriothesley finding their s/o, who gets cold easily, wearing their jacket/coat?

Warm me up

# genshin impact !

⌗:, a/n: sorry for being away for a MONTH i was so stressed out from school... T-T and I AGAIN did add a lil bit spice for wrio. I can't stop myself.

⌗:, pairings: kaeya, childe, ayato, neuvillette & wriothesley w/ gn!reader

⌗:, extra: happy late Christmas I couldn't finish it because I was worn out </3

˗ˏˋ ꒰ KAEYA ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Its a little secret that none knows about. The coat he wears and what you wear on cold wintry days are his as well. It's quite noticeable but according to him, "Nobody's gonna know!". He goes crazy whenever he sees you wear his big coat. It makes you look so cozy...and soft...like a warm fireplace in winter morning which always have a welcoming feel to them.

The trip to Dragonspine was, as usual, extremely cold. The fire that Kaeya made from the dry firewood wasn't enough to keep you warm. "You want me to make the fire more big? I can find some more dry wood for you" He asked voice laced with concern. You knew that no matter how big the fire or enormous layers of cloth, you won't be able to keep yourself warm...unless Kaeya offers you his comfortably warm chest...and hands too.

As if able to understand your gaze since your shivering form really gave it away, he walked up and sat behind you. He wrapped his arm around your body gently and said, "Lay on me. It'll help you keep warm" you relaxed your body and brought your knees closer to yourself and making yourself feel at home. You heaved a sigh of relief as if you've finally been able to stop the piercing cold wind from affecting you any further. "Thank you Kaeya" he smiled at you, "As long as you're comfortable". He sealed the conversation with a kiss upon your forehead.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ CHILDE ꒱ ˎˊ˗

He has been born and brought up in Snezhnaya. A nation with only snowy landscape all around. Naturally he was quite well adjusted himself to the cold atmosphere of any place that you visit. While he should be having big long coats in such a dry and chilly climate, he refuses to wear it because, "You can't get this cold anywhere else! it's a test of courage!".

You had a cup of hot chocolate on your hand as you flipped through the pages of the book. The big bear blanket and the brightly lit fireplace did make you warm but not enough. You shivered "Brr...its really cold if only he was at home..." during the coldest of days you ache for his comforting presence and his big warm arms enveloping your body as you two cuddle in the plush couch often times drifting off to sleep unknowingly. You missed him so much that you quickly sprinted towards his closet and grabbed the biggest jacket of his. You scurried inside the multiple blankets and drew his big fluffy jacket around you. His familiar scent filled your senses. He smelled like the ocean, no matter how faint the scent was, it was refreshing.

....the door of the room opened, and the wooden floor dreaked beneath his boot-like-shoes. "Babe?" he quietly asked, hoping to receive an answer, but as soon as he was about to go find you, he saw you laying comfortably on your stomach with his big jacket enveloping you as you softly snored. He felt himself falling for you adorable antics all over again. He slowly picked you up in his arms and carried you to bed. He murmered, "Sweet dreams, sweetheart..." with a kiss.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ AYATO ꒱ ˎˊ˗

The ocean breeze can get quite chilly right? With the layers of clothes you had on you, the coat was barely enough to even keep the piercing cold win from making you whole body numb. Sure, you acted impulsively and decided to sit down near the railing. You started off into the vast ocean. Ayato wasn't here most of the time and your time of respite to soothe your heart from missing him. "He's taking care of matters....he will come back soon..." you mumbled and hugged your knees close.

You felt an already warm blanket being draped around your figure from the back. Looking at the delicate fabric and the seam's design you turned your head back a little too quickly. There he was...the one who you waited so long for...He chuckled softly seeing your bewildered face. "You'll catch a cold if you sit here in the cold like this with barely enough layers dearest" He kept his hand on your shoulder blades gently. "Ayato...I thought you'll come..." "Let's say I did a few little things here and there which allowed me to spend some more time."

You smiled at him sweetly and got down from thr railing. You intertwined your hands with his and with a peck on his cheek, " I missed you so much..."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ NEUVILLETTE ꒱ ˎˊ˗

"Not done yeeetttt?...." you slumped on the couch as you waited even longer for him.

With a chuckle, he said, "It's almost done... just a little bit longer, dear." Then soon he went to work and correct the piles of paperwork. He has been avoiding them for quite a while now, and it had to be done one day. He may be the cold and formal Iudex of Fontaine, but even he loses the grip on his stoic personality whenever he's with you.

The evenings are quite cold in Fontaine, and he saw how you tried to warm up your arms. You didn't want to disturb him since his pending work's deadline was tomorrow in the afternoon.

While you were busy staring into space, he wrapped his coat around you. "Hm? Suddenly?"

"I saw how you were trying to warm yourself up and I apologise. I can't be the one to warm you up but I hope my coat suffices?" He said chuckling, a hint of blush on his fair cheeks. You grinned from ear to ear, "It's quite enough Neuvi, thanks for caring about me so much" you cupped his cheeks gently with your hands.

"I love you" you said as you touched his forehead with yours. A sign of the utmost affection for one who is the Hydro Dragon Sovereign.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱ ˎˊ˗

"Sigh... I know it's cold, but that's no reason for you to stay under the covers... it's 9 pm, now how long do you plan to do it?"

Concern lacing his voice as he saw how you tried your best to warm up your feet with whatever you could find. "It's too cold and I can't keep bothering you for so long, you've got work to do" you tried to sound as if you were alright but in reality, fighting the cold was really taking out all your strength from you.

"Wait—" you felt the covers being lifted from your head. He swiftly carried you on his arms and ploped you on the plush couch. Upon inspecting your surroundings, you saw how he had prepared everything from A to Z... there was a warm tea, leg warmers and special fur on the couch, which was especially sold during winter and the fireplace. "Wriothesley? You prepared all this for me?" You spoke bewildered.

"Yes. All the things that will keep my beloved warm and happy while I'm unfortunately working, " he spoke gently, holding your hands. "Wow...looks like I won the lottery when I received a boyfriend," you said while ruffling his soft hair.

"It's good thank you... but" you smirked maybe something other than this can keep me more warm?" "What are you imply?— Oh...I see" he chuckled on realising your intention.

He slithered his hands on your thighs and seductively said, "I don't mind that warm treat on such a cold day"

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shadowlali · 4 months

Text

hot chocolate and snickerdoodle cookies

COD AU - Phillip Graves x bed and breakfast owner!fem!reader

[18+] summary: Phillip visits a bed and breakfast from his childhood. He meets the new owner, a sweet soul who helps him grieve. wc: 6.3k masterlist

[photos found on pinterest, all credit to original owners of the photos above]

warnings: NSFW, some proofreading, DUAL P.O.V., no use of Y/N nor details on reader’s appearance, talks about losing loved ones (grandparent, great aunt, great uncle), soft!graves, pet names, unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink (if you squint) a/n: happy new year's! here's my take at a soft (but still commanding) graves <3 thank you all for the support! when i started this blog in august i never though i'd have people read my stuff 😭 may you all have an amazing and blessed new year! also don't read too much into the layout/logistics of the bed and breakfast i've only been to like two or three lol

Phillip’s. P.O.V.

Phillip sits in his idling car, staring at the dreamy, two-story bed and breakfast. It’s covered in a light sheet of snow with a few cars parked in the front. Through the big, front window, he can see the orange flickers of light emanating from the fireplace.

It’s been years since he’s last visited. Despite the welcoming atmosphere of the town and of the house, his heart hammers in his chest. He recognizes the same small grocery store, same tiny post office, same park… but it seems different?

And it is, at least to him. His grandmother, the one who introduced him to this place decades ago, is long gone. It didn’t matter that his parents would abandon him months on end, he had his grandmother and that was more than enough.

They stumbled on this town decades ago, when he was just a boy. Eventually it became a tradition. Every year his grandmother would bring him and every year they would stay in this bed and breakfast. He remembers the hot chocolate and snickerdoodle cookies and the soft beds. He remembers the older couple who owned the place, how kind and willing they were to include Phillip and his grandma in their holiday traditions.

Then it stopped. He joined the military, was shipped all over the world and only saw his grandma a few times a year. She never seemed to mind, happy to see her grandson all grown up and doing something he loved. The time spent with her became less and less. Lines and white hair, a symbol of a life well lived, appeared on her. It only made her more beautiful to him.

But time eventually caught up to her. Her hands shook when she reached for a cup of tea and it took her longer to walk up the stairs. Phillip didn’t want to stay away anymore. He had already thought of creating Shadow Company to be his own boss, his own commander. And his grandmother’s worsening condition only made him work faster to achieve that dream.

He didn’t see her too often, but she stayed in his home, under the care of a specialized team. Once Shadow Company was built, they had only three holidays together. Three holidays spent in the cute mountain town in the same two-story bed and breakfast. On the last Christmas before her passing, he held in his tears. She was too frail to open her presents. It was difficult for her to walk without assistance and her memory had long begun to fail her.

But they sat in front of the fireplace, surrounded by the chatter of the other guests and family of the owners. He held her softer hand in his and basked in the warmth of the flames and the love of his grandma. She turned slightly in her chair, covered under a mountain of blankets, and stared at his side profile.

Phillip… my baby boy, she had said softly. He turned to look at her, feeling her soft hand cup his cheek. Yeah, gram? I’m right here. A few months after that, once they were back in Texas, she passed peacefully in her sleep. There were hundreds of cards and flowers sent by everyone who knew her. There were people he didn’t even recognize at her funeral. But it was a testament to how loved she was by those around her.

The couple from the bed and breakfast visited and expressed how hurt they were by her passing. Their bodies were also frail and soon after they would pass too. He cried and cried and cried until there were no more tears. A strong, assertive soldier reduced to tears. Phillip walked around his grandmother’s room at his home and wrapped himself in the blankets she would knit. Time passed and he threw himself into his work, not thinking too much about her or the memories.

Even now, many years later, it still pains his heart when he thinks of her. He doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t want to see the park and the swings where she’d push him until he felt like he was flying. He doesn’t want to see the snow and think about the snow angels or the snowball fights they used to have. It hurts. It hurts so much to relive those memories.

But he can’t live like this anymore. He wants to remember her and everything she did for him. Phillip wants to grieve properly even if he knows it’ll split his heart wide open. She deserves to be talked about and her memory deserves to be cherished.

Before his surge of confidence fades, Philip turns off the SUV and grabs his luggage from the passenger seat. He jogs across the street, wanting to escape the cold. He reaches the porch, seeing Christmas lights wrap around the front posts. It's past Christmas now, only a few days away from New Years, but he can see the giant green tree with shiny ornaments through the window.

Before he can knock on the door, it swings open. You stand there, encased in a knit sweater and leggings, looking way too sweet and soft for your own good. Phillip is left speechless for a moment, blinded by the smile on your pretty face.

“Hi! Welcome, come on in!” you say, motioning for him to enter the foyer.

Phillip clears his throat and offers you a smile. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

You close the door behind him, passing close enough for him to smell your perfume. Without thinking he breathes in deep, filling his lungs. He follows you to the front desk, wondering if you're related to the previous owners. As he gives his name and hands over his license he discreetly looks at your name tag. Phillip rolls your name quietly over his tongue, looking away once you take your eyes off of the computer.

“You’ve been here before! Your name is in our system,” you exclaim.

His heart pinches uncomfortably and before he can formulate a response you reach over on the desk and grab a picture frame.

“I thought you looked like the boy in this photo… this is you, right? With your grandma and my great aunt and uncle!”

He takes the picture frame from you, brushing against your soft hands. His breath catches in his throat and tears prick his eyes. It is him with his grandmother alongside what he now knows to be your great aunt and great uncle. He’s a young teen in this photo, at this point already taller than his grandma.

“They passed when I was young but they always talked about you and her. You guys were like a second family to them,” your soft voice breaks through his thoughts.

“They were–they were always so welcoming to us,” he whispers,” I have some great memories from this place.”

He hands back the picture and you place it once more on the desk. You hand him a key and walk around the desk towards the hallway.

“Well, Mr. Graves, I hope you’re able to create some new ones.”

“Phillip is fine, sweetheart. No need for formalities.”

You hum, nodding your head slightly. You ask if he needs help with his luggage and he immediately says no, motioning you to continue walking. He follows you, taking in his surroundings. Not much has changed since he was last here. The same dark wood floors and furniture adorn the place. He sees photos of other guests on small tables and on the walls of the hallway.

He breathes in the familiar scent of the home and lets the warmth wash over him.

“Is it just you here? Do other family members help run the place?” Phillip asks as you lead him up the stairs.

“It used to be my parents, but they left it to me. They said I’m more passionate about this house.”

“I remember how packed it got when I was younger,” Phillip states,” we always made sure to make our reservations well in advance.”

“It was like that a few days ago during Christmas,” you agree,” my parents came to help. I like it though, it’s always fun meeting new people.”

You stop at the end of the hallway and open the door to the large bedroom. A canopy bed with white curtains and fluffy pillows is placed in the center of the room. There’s a large dresser and nightstand in the same dark wood style as the furniture throughout the house. It’s exactly as Phillip remembers.

“I put towels in the bathroom for you and some extra blankets in the storage bench,” you say as you motion towards the ottoman at the end of the bed. “I’m down the hall if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, doll. I think I’ll be just fine.”

“Do you want any coffee or tea? I had just taken out the cookies from the oven before I saw you through our camera.”

Phillip laughs, now understanding why you opened the door before he knocked. “No thank you, I think I’m just going to get ready for bed.”

“Alright Mr. Gra–Phillip,” you remind yourself,” Have a good night!”

- - -

Phillip walks down the stairs, seeing cars leave the driveway from the window.

“Bye, thank you for coming! Have a safe trip back home,” you call out through the open front door.

“Mornin’,” he calls out.

You close the door before turning towards him. “Goodmorning, Phillip! How’d you sleep? Do you want some coffee?”

“Good, great actually. Those beds, wow, the softest I’ve ever slept on.”

You laugh in agreement. “Yeah, they did good in choosing that brand of mattresses. Coffee? Or are you going out?”

“Coffee would be great, doll.”

He follows you to the dining room where he sees an assortment of pastries, eggs, coffee, juice, and other breakfast items on the table.

“Any plans for today?” you ask while serving him a cup of coffee.

He takes a moment to think about your question. He really isn’t sure where to begin in this town. There’s a few places his grandmother would take him, but Phillip wonders how difficult and uncomfortable it will be for him to revisit those places without her. It’s difficult enough to be in this place with the memories hitting him at every corner.

“Uh, I’m not quite sure. Maybe take a walk around town.”

You fiddle with your sweater as an anxious look crosses your face. “I found something this morning in the attic. Is it okay for me to show it to you?”

Phillip’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion and he nods. You walk into the kitchen and a minute later walk out with a leather book in your hands. You pull out the chair next to Phillip, sit and open the book to reveal pages of photos.

“It’s their photo album,” you explain,” from all of their guests. I went to look for some light bulbs and accidently knocked over a box. This was inside of it.”

You flip some pages and land on photos of a younger Phillip and his grandmother. Phillip gently grabs the photo album and brings it closer to him. There’s pictures from the very first time they visited to pictures of him and his grandma ice skating at the park. Each flip of the page shows Phillip at different stages of his life and all around town or in the house.

“I can tell by your face that this is as much of a surprise to you as it was to me.”

Phillip nods,” I had no idea there were photos. Why do you think they kept these?”

“I’m not quite sure, they never mentioned anything when I was younger. They only showed me the picture that’s on the front desk. Maybe they forgot about it?”

Phillip nods absentmindedly, flipping through the many pages. Tears prick his eyes and he gets a wave of nostalgia and grief. Before a teardrop falls he quickly slams the book shut and pushes it back to you.

“Thank you, uh, for showing me this,” Phillip murmurs as he stands up.

“Oh! I’m sorry, Phillip,” you stress,” the last thing I wanted to do was make you sad. I just wanted to show you these because I know it makes me feel better when I look back through photos.”

Phillip stops in his tracks with your words.

“It makes you feel better?”

You nod quickly, standing up from your own chair and walking slowly towards Phillip. “I mean, of course it hurts to think that my loved ones aren’t here anymore. But, I have pictures and I have memories. I talk about them and I visit places we went together and I make new memories.”

Phillip rubs a hand on his forehead, taking in your words. He wonders if this is where he should begin. Seeing those photos made Phillip feel emotions he hadn’t experienced in years. But that’s why he’s here, to honor her and no longer repress his memories.

“It’s–it’s hard for me to think about my grandma. I don’t know how to–to get through this sadness. It’s been so long but it still feels as if it just happened.”

“Is that why you’re here? To process her passing?”

“Yes,” Phillip whispers,” it’s funny, actually. I’m a soldier who’s used to running onto battlefields and dangerous territories without a second thought. But this,” he points to the photo album,” scares me… I’m not sure why I’m telling you all of this, but I feel like I can trust you.”

You beam at him, showing him the pretty smile that’s captivated him from the moment he first laid eyes on you. “Of course you can trust me Phillip. And I know we just met but you don’t have to be scared. I can help you if you’d like?”

“How?”

“Well,” you say while walking back to the photo album and flipping to the first page with his photos,” there’s a ton of activities you can do according to these pictures. Like ice skating at the park.”

Phillip scratches his head, not quite up to do things alone. “I don’t know if I want to go by myself–”

“Would you like me to go with you?”

Phillip’s heart skips a beat at your suggestion. “You’d do that, sweetheart? Don’t you have guests here?”

“No! You’re the last one until after New Year’s. I’d love to help you Phillip, but I also don’t want to interfere in any plans or bother you–”

“No, no. That would actually be–be really helpful.”

Phillip smiles back, entranced by the twinking in your eyes.

“Anywhere in particular you’d like to go first?”

The walk to town is straight out of a movie with snow covering the many trees and rustic-like houses. Despite the cold, the town square is filled with people and laughter. Vendors are set up around the park, selling hot chocolate and different foods.

“I’m not sure, what do ya’ think?” he asks.

“How about the ice rink?”

“Only to watch, not actually skate–”

“What?” you exclaim. “No way. We’re getting on the ice!”

You link your hand in his and begin pulling him towards the open ice rink. He drags his feet, suddenly nervous at the idea of balancing on thin blades. He feels like an awkward teenager again, hoping he doesn’t make a fool of himself in front of the pretty girl he likes.

“Come on, Phillip! You can’t hug the wall the entire time,” you call out.

“I’m not huggin’ the damn— Jesus, fine.” Phillip responds, pushing off the railing and slowly skating towards you.

You start skating backwards, moving farther away for Phillip to follow you. He’s lucky, the rink is mostly empty apart from a few others.

“Where are you goin’ doll? How about we stay in one place–”

“No, silly,” you tease him,” you need to re-learn how to skate. Plus, we need to recreate the picture.”

“Recreate the picture?”

You stop at his question and reach into your jacket pocket. Finally, he thinks as he approaches you. You pull out a stack of photos, the ones from inside of the photo album.

“I brought them so we know exactly what to do. The tree is still up,” you say as you point to the giant christmas tree,” if you stand here I can take a picture and you’ll have a new one. I was thinking you could recreate some of the photos.”

It’s a good idea, a sweet one at that. Even if his legs are slightly shaking from being unbalanced and he knows he’ll eventually make a fool out of himself on the ice, it’s a step in the right direction of the grieving process.

You skate around him and hold up your phone to take a photo. “Ready?”

Phillip stands awkwardly, unsure of what to do. You call out a simple smile but it takes him a moment to do so. He looks around, watching children stumble on the ice and parents or grandparents there to pick them up and push them to try again. He turns to look at people walking through the park, couples hand in hand or children playing in the snow. He feels the wind ruffle his hair slightly and brush across his face.

So he smiles. A genuine smile. One that doesn’t feel forced or sad. He hears the shutter sounds come from your phone and you skate towards him after a few clicks.

“Here, I think these look perfect,” you say as you show him the screen.

“Okay, now it's your turn–”

“No, Phillip. I don’t need any pictures–”

He makes a tsk sounds and grabs your hand before you're able to skate away. “We’ll take one together, that’s my compromise to your idea.”

You roll your eyes playful at him but nonetheless hand him your phone. His pulse flutters on his neck as you lean in closer while he snaps a photo of the both of you. Phillip hands you the phone and you playfully bump into him as you skate away.

“Okay,” he warns,” we’re done here–”

“Show me what you got, Commander.”

After the third time he slips and lands on his butt, you finally decide to leave for the next task. His ego is bruised only a little, the giggles and soft hands you offered every time he fell down were worth the minor embarrassment.

“The hot chocolate your great aunt made was amazing, but I remember liking this one too,” Phillip says once inside the little bakery.

“Her secret was maple syrup and dark chocolate. I haven’t been able to recreate it exactly like hers but I’m still trying.”

The both of you reach the front counter and you order a hot chocolate and sugar donut while Phillip orders a coffee and croissant.

“Coffee? No, Phillip! You need to order a hot chocolate–he’ll get a hot chocolate instead,” you tell the employee.

“Wait–” he starts, but by then the employee has left to prepare the order. “You do realize that I’m a grown man?”

“And? Where’s your childlike wonder? Where’s your inner child, Phillip?” you tease.

You try to pay using your card but Phillip pushes your hand away. “What’re you doin’?”

“It’s my treat, Phil–”

“Don’t be silly, doll,” he gently chastises.

You find a table and sit down, Phillip sliding into the booth right next to you. You cheers his cup and Phillip watches you take a sip. A jolt of arousal hits him the moment you moan at the taste of the drink. Phillip looks away quickly once you make eye contact, feeling himself overheat. He’s usually not so shy around women, quite the opposite actually.

But the emotions he’s experiencing with you are… new. And it’s not because you’re helping him and he’s somehow replacing his grandmother’s memory with you, it’s because you’re sweet. You don’t even know him, yet since the minute you spoke to him you were genuine in your kindness. Here you are now, helping him with your encouraging words and pretty face.

You give him a shy smile and place a hand on his cheek, turning his face towards his own cup. “Try it, Phillip!”

He takes a sip, immediately transported back to his childhood. “Yup, this is just how I remember.”

He hears the shutter of a camera and turns to see you taking pictures of him. He takes the phone from your hands and has you pose to take some of you then of you two together.

In just a few short hours, you’re able to help him recreate most of the photos. By late afternoon, snow begins to fall, landing on your cheeks and eyelashes. The both of you are standing outside the bed and breakfast, admiring a snowman left by one of the guests. He’s enthralled, listening to the rasp of your voice while you recount a story of a snowman you built when you were younger.

You tilt your head back, watching the snowflakes drift down slowly from the sky. He watches them land on your lips and soft skin, suddenly jealous that the snowflakes get to kiss you first.

“Anyways, hungry? Phillip?” you ask, a confused look on your face at his silence.

“Right–yeah, I mean yes,” he stammers out, feeling his face heat.

“How about I cook us something–”

“Let me, as a thank you for today. Going out of your way to help me alleviate the pain, let me at least repay the favor.” Phillip interrupts.

“You don’t have to repay–”

“Show me to the kitchen, sweetheart.”

The busy bee that you are, he soon realizes, you do show him the kitchen but immediately begin cleaning the now empty rooms. He prepares a dish he knows too well, roasted chicken and an assortment of vegetables he finds in the fridge. Even with the soft music playing in the living room and the crackle of the fireplace, he can hear you gently humming from the hallway while you sweep.

He sets another pot of coffee and hears a knock on the front door. You jog to the door and open it, saying hello and thank you so much before shutting the door and walking away. Phillip finishes cooking and washing the dishes he used about an hour later and calls you over to the dining room.

“Who knew the Commander could cook?” you praise him.

He smiles at your comment, a slight flush appearing on his neck. “I’m a real jack-of-all-trades.”

After dinner, the both of you sit in front of the fireplace, basking in the warmth. He listens as you talk about your New Year’s resolutions, mainly wanting to find the time and energy to travel more. Phillip finds comfort in your voice, allowing himself to fantasize what it would be like to retire from Shadow Company and travel the world with you. It’s crazy, since he just met you, but he allows himself to imagine.

“I don’t even know what day it is today. Once Christmas passes it’s hard to keep track. Oh,” you say after a yawn,” I almost forgot.”

You jump out of your seat and pad quickly up the stairs. He listens to your soft footsteps walk around the second floor, then you come back down with another leather book.

“I know I’ve already airdropped the photos to you, but I thought you’d like this as well.”

He takes the book from your hands and opens it, finding all of the old photos matched to the new ones. It’s the pictures of himself, in front or in the middle of whatever activity he and his grandmother were doing. He flips through the pages, finding comfort in her smile, knowing she’d want him to be happy, to not hold onto the pain but only remember the good times they spent together.

He turns to look at you, uncaring that there’s tears in his eyes. “I don’t know what to say, thank you doesn’t seem like enough.”

“It’s more than enough, Phillip,” you whisper, reaching to wipe away a teardrop with your thumb,” Through your stories and the stories of my great aunt and uncle, I feel like I got to know her too.”

“How’d ya’ get these printed so fast?”

“I had my friend at the print shop do it!”

You pull your hand back but Phillip grabs it, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand and another to your wrist. He leaves his lips there for a moment, feeling the flutter of your pulse. He hears the sharp intake of your breath and places another kiss on your skin. You pull your hand away slowly and stand up, leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ll leave you to look through the photo album. I think it’d be good for you to have some alone time, yeah?”

Phillip nods his head in agreement,“ thank you again, doll.”

Once you're upstairs and he hears the sound of water running from your shower, he allows himself to cry. He traces his fingertips on his grandmother’s face, wishing she were still here. He cries until he can barely see, until the photos become too blurry to focus on.

He cries for keeping the memories locked away in his mind for so many years, for not cherishing her memory. He cries for your thoughtfulness and for your gift. Eventually, he makes his way upstairs and falls heavy on the bed. Exhaustion takes control and he falls asleep, the book still in his hand.

- - -

Reader’s P.O.V.

You’re up early the next morning, like most days. You hear the front door close as you descend the stairs and once you open the blinds, you see Phillip walking in the distance towards the town. He seemed like he appreciated the gift, and you really hope he liked it. The night before, you could hear his sobs and it took everything in you not to come back down and comfort him. But, he needed his time alone.

You finish cleaning up the rest of the rooms, really only needing to put the sheets and towels to wash as you had finished most chores the night before. You’re in the process of starting a fresh pot of coffee and taking muffins out of the oven when you see someone out of the corner of your eye. You turn and find Phillip leaning against the doorjamb with a small smile on his face.

“Good morning, Phillip. How’d you sleep?”

“Mornin’ sweet girl,” he pauses and takes a deep breath before responding,”... good. I had a good night's rest. How ‘bout you?”

“Great!” you respond, a smile spreading across your face.

He places a paper bag from your friend’s print shop on the table. “I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

Phillip pulls out a lavender colored photo album from the bag and presents it to you.

“Oh, Phillip. You didn’t have to buy me a new one! We have a ton of them all over–”

“Doll,” he interrupts,” open it.”

You take it and open up the album, gasping as you see the pictures from the day before. There’s some of you ice skating and of you drinking hot chocolate at the bakery and of course the pictures Phillip took of the both of you.

“This is–wow, Phillip,” you whisper,” I don’t know what to say. This is incredibly sweet of you.”

You flip through the pages for a few minutes, seeing you and Phillip posing. He took time out of his day to not only print the photos, but rearrange them in the album. Your heart beats fast in your chest, the crush you have on him only growing. Without another word you wrap your arms around Phillip. He returns the hug immediately, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m grateful, ya’ know? To you, for being with me while I work through it all,” Phillip says once you pull back,” I still have a lot to do on my own. But you were there, encouraging me to take the first step. The major first step.”

He cups the side of your face and you can’t help but lean into his touch. You’re sure you have a dreamy look in your eyes, completely taken aback by the blue of his.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he whispers.

“What–”

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his eyes flicking from yours back to your lips.

You nod, meeting him halfway. His lips are soft and plush. Phillip cups the back of your head with one hand while the other is placed on your lower back. You run light fingers through his thick hair, running the tip of your tongue on his bottom lip. Phillip groans, pushing his hips into yours.

He grinds his erection into your lower belly and moves his hand to cup the curve of your bottom. You lift up your thigh and wrap your leg around his waist. He angles his hips to grind right against your clothed pussy, eliciting a whimper from your mouth.

Phillip breaks away from the kiss, trailing open mouth kisses to your throat. “Let me take you upstairs,” he groans,” please, sweet girl.”

“Yes, yes, Phillip.”

In under two minutes Phillip is able to get you up to your room. You stand at the edge of your bed while he kisses a path over your clothed breasts and down to the waistband of your leggings. He pulls them down, trailing his lips over the soft skin of your thighs. You wiggle out of them, goosebumps erupting on your sensitive skin.

He presses open mouth kisses to your cotton panties, looping his fingers on the sides and pulling them down slowly. You're wet and achy and hot, all thanks to him. You grip the edges of your sweater and pull it off. Phillip stands to unclip your bra, immediately latching his mouth to your swollen nipples. You link your fingers in his hair and tug, feeling his teeth bite gently on your skin.

“So pretty, aren’t you?” Phillip whispers while gently pushing you to lay on the bed.

He brings your hips right to the edge, spreading open your thighs and running light fingers over your slit.

“All wet and swollen just f’me,” he groans.

You nod even though he’s not looking at you, more focused on kneeling and burying his face in your cunt. “Just for you, just for you–oh god!”

He licks a broad, quick stripe from your entrance to your sensitive clit. He does it again, lapping up your juices.

“Phillip,” you drag his name out in a long moan.

“What baby?” he teases,” you want more?”

He slips a finger inside your drooling entrance, moans erupting from the both of you. He fucks into you gently, adding a second finger and swiping his tongue through your folds. Phillip’s tongue swipes up and up and over your clit repeatedly. You twist and squirm your hips, feeling electricity coil in your tummy. You thank the gods that the house is completely empty because the sounds emanating from your mouth are dirty.

“Such a sweet girl,” Phillip coos against your wet skin,” keep makin’ those sounds f’me.”

Phillip curves his fingers and speeds up his movements, the wet from your pussy only making it easier. So soft and beautiful girl falls from his lips the few moments he comes up for air. You feel heat spread rapidly through your body and then you're falling, falling, falling into the abyss, gripping the comforter tightly to hold you in place. He places a strong hand on your stomach to keep you still while you writhe from his tongue and fingers.

“Oka–okay, no mo–more,” you cry out, shaking from the intensity of the aftershocks.

“You made such a pretty mess,” he groans.

Phillip removes his fingers, placing his forehead on your inner thigh. He breathes in deep and places tiny, wet kisses up to your tummy.

“How was that, sweetheart? Wanna keep going?” he whispers, biting the sensitive skin on your chest.

You move your hands to cup his face and bring him in for a kiss. You lick and bite his jaw, cleaning up your mess and leaving behind red marks on his skin. He falls perfectly between your thighs, lightly grinding his still clothed erection on your sensitive skin.

“You’re wearing too much clothes,” you murmur, sliding your hands underneath his crew neck sweater. “Take them off,” you giggle.

“Yes ma’am,” he says, quickly sliding off the bed.

You sit up and watch as he throws off his sweater and then unbuckles his jeans. While he pushes them down, you bring a hand to his muscled stomach, stroking the heated skin. His cock comes into view and you gasp slightly at the size. You reach a hand down to gently stroke his length, shivering at the feel.

“Don’t worry doll,” he moans,” you can take me.”

He grasps your hand, lay back down, whispered in the quiet room. Phillip climbs on the bed and spreads your thighs to accommodate his hips. He wraps your thigh around his waist and rubs his thick cock between your folds. You reach a hand down and guide him right to your dripping entrance. You throw your head back into the soft pillows, feeling him slide into your messy cunt. He works himself all the way in, his eyes half lidded and jaw clenched.

“Phillip,” you whimper,” you’re deep, baby.”

“Fuck, like if you–if you were ma–made f’me,” he mutters.

Phillip hips fuse to yours and you feel the coarse hair on his groin rub on your wet skin. He stays still, running hands over your thighs and up to your swollen nipples, breathe, baby, he repeats to you. He runs his thumb over your lips, sliding it into the warmth of your mouth.

He stretches you, reaches deep inside of you with his thick cock. You squeeze him, adjusting to his size and the feel of him all around you. He slides back out slowly, gripping your thigh for a better angle. In one swift movement he pushes back in. You suck and bite his thumb, gagging slightly when he pushes it deeper into your mouth.

“Honey, fuck–you feel like honey,” he groans, keeping his eyes locked where you two are joined.

He slips his thumb out of your mouth and moves it to rub small circles on your clit.

“Like that, just like that,” you cry.

Phillip keeps the pace, sliding out and pushing all the way back in. You become limp in his hands, molded by his touch and by his cock. He reaches your cervix with each thrust, kissing the end of you, deeper that anyone else has ever reached.

“Feels good, doll?” he asks, moving faster. “Am I stretching this little pussy?”

Tears fall from the corner of your eyes from the intensity. You nod dumbly, entranced by him. His eyes are almost black, pupils dilated.

“My swe–sweet girl,” he groans,” so tight.”

“So good–i’m so– i’m so,” you stammer.

“I know, baby,” he coos,” you’ve been so good.” His thumb swipes through your folds, gathering your wetness and back up to strum your clit. “Let go, I’ve got you.”

He leans over you, pistoning his hips and rolling your clit with his slick thumb. Your vision blurs then electricity shoots up your spine again. Your mouth opens in a chorus of moans and whimpers. Vaguely, you hear Phillip praise you that’s it, come for me baby, my pretty girl.

He finishes soon after, falling on top of you and burying his head in your neck while he fucks you sloppy through your aftershocks. You feel spurts of warmth as he comes inside of you, marking you. You hear his groans and slight whimpers in your ear while his hips jerk and twitch.

You’re exhausted, body deliciously aching and limp. Your eyes droop as you feel the pull of sleep almost take you. Phillip groans as he leans back, pulling out slowly. You feel the drip of his come slide out of land on the sheets. Phillip uses his fingers to push some of it back in.

“There,” he whispers,” back to where it belongs.”

You roll your eyes but Phillip catches you, slapping your inner thigh. You giggle as he stands, watching while he walks into the bathroom and comes back with a washcloth. He cleans the mess on your inner thighs then cleans himself.

“Take a nap with me,” you plead.

“Tempting, but have you eaten?”

You blink, realizing you were in the process of making breakfast before he arrived.

“Eat first, nap later,” he commands, walking to your drawer and pulling out one of your sweaters, linen pants, and thick socks.

Once you’re dressed, he has you wait on the bed while he goes back to his room to change into new clothes. You walk down the stairs together, you, a little more slowly from the ache between your thighs. You push his shoulder as you see him smirk, only slightly annoyed by him.

After breakfast you fall asleep on the living room floor, Phillip setting up the fireplace and placing a mountain of blankets in front of it. You wake a while later, feeling lax but surprisingly energized. You walk into the kitchen, noticing the sun setting from the window.

“I think today is New Year’s Eve, doll,” Phillip says behind you.

You check your phone while Phillip rubs the sleep from his eyes, noticing that it is in fact New Year’s Eve. The days got away from me, you think, leaning into Phillip’s embrace, in the best way possible.

“Will you help me make hot chocolate?” you ask. “I want to try again with the recipe.”

“As long as you teach me how to make snickerdoodle cookies,” Phillip agrees, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Deal.”

By the time both tasks are finished, you and Phillip find yourselves in the back patio, wrapped in blankets with two cups of delicious hot chocolate and a plate of snickerdoodle cookies. The clock strikes midnight and fireworks light up the sky, Phillip gently grasping your chin while he gives you a New Year's kiss.

if you enjoy my work, leave a comment, reblog, or like! thank you for the support, love you! 💖🧚🏼‍♀️💖

#phillip graves x female reader #phillip graves smut #cod mw2 smut #graves x reader #shadowlali

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perfumejamal · 3 months

Text

SECRET SANTA (h.r) 18+

pairing: dom!renjun x f!reader

summary: when you are renjun’s secret santa and you choose to get him a silly present, but the night ends with him splitting you open on his couch.

genre: @jenoslutie ‘s christmas collab, smut, fluff

warnings: best friend!renjun, pocket pussy mentioned, unprotected (seems like all my fics.. but pls use protection!), cute renjun, softdom!rejun, creampie??

word count: 1.6k

a/n: YOOO yall don’t know how many time i had to scrap the damn fic. i was so close to ending this account that’s how bad it was fr.. also i am so sorry for how late this is i was trying my best to finish it with how many times i deleted it and tryna keep up all my course work ,, hope yall can enjoy and look past how late it is ………also listen to this song bc it was on repeat while i was writing this!!

renjun was one of the hardest people to read, he was very quiet and kept to himself. unlike the rest of the guys, he didn’t hit on you or make sexual jokes around you. you were convinced he didn’t make any jokes of that sort at all.

you smile as you mentally read his name off the slip you just drew from a cup. you and your friends decided to do secret santa, following the usual tradition you had all followed.

you spotted renjun sitting at the kitchen counter, snacking on some chocolate covered pretzels. he would talk from time to time, but most conversations was held by you and the others. you sit on the counter facing him, staring down at him. “junnie?”

he hummed softly as a response, “are you not having fun?” you say with a sad tone to your voice.

he quickly straightens his posture before responding, “i-im having a lot of fun!” he says with a slight smile.

you smile back at him taking his hand and leading him to the living room, where everyone else was singing and dancing.

you snickered to yourself as you wrapped up renjun’s gift. unsure of what to get him you thought you’d get him something silly and something he needed. your friend group was very open about hookups and lack there of. renjun, however didn’t really talk about any of that. so what better gift to get him than something he could use to pleasure himself?

you were getting ready to drop off his gift. he didn’t have a lecture today and he wasn’t working so it was the perfect time to swing by his apartment. you also didn’t want any of your friends to see the gift, they tend to make a big deal out of things.

you rung the doorbell to his apartment, quickly making your way in when he let you in.

“junnie!” you exclaim hugging him immediately. “i’m your secret santa,” you say with a bright smile to your face handing him the wrapped present.

he smiled and took the gift placing it under his small christmas tree. “take a seat, let me get you some hot chocolate,” he said heading to the kitchen.

you take off your jacket and place it on the hanger by his door. snuggling into his cozy couch, and covering yourself with the blanket you had crocheted for him. “junnie i’m gonna search for a movie to watch!” you yell from the couch, earning a small ‘mhm’ from him.

scrolling through the new releases you chose a random rom-com, and renjun came back just in time with your mug of hot chocolate and some cake. he sat down next to where you laid, getting under the blanket and letting your head rest on his lap.

the movie started with the main characters hating each other, and you were intrigued this trope being your favorite. your focus kept shifting as renjun kept playing with your hair, his slender fingers massaging your scalp.

you relaxed into his touch, your mind hazy at the softness of his fingers. “fuckk,” you moaned, accidentally. you cover your mouth quickly realizing what just happened. he chuckled, slowly pulling his hands out of your hair.

your face is reddening but you try to hide it by looking at the screen, focusing once more on the movie. which was probably not a good idea. you’re not even sure how long he was massaging your scalp, but by the time you looked back there was a sex scene.

you clear your throat awkwardly as you watch it, rubbing your legs together and shifting around. “are you okay, y/n?” you quickly look up at him from his lap and nod your head yes rapidly.

“yes!” you exclaim. “sorry if i was moving so much,” you say moving to sit next to him. focusing on the screen once more.

you let out a sigh of relief as the movie came to an end. “you know,” you start, moving towards his tree. “you can open your present,”

he nodded walking towards his tree, grabbing the cutely wrapped present. “you’re right,” he said as he neatly ripped it apart. his eyebrows furrowing in question looking at the box under the pink wrapping paper. you sit back on the couch sipping on some water as his mouth forms an ‘o’. “you got me a fucking pocket pussy?”

you burst out into laughter, spitting out the water in your mouth. he walked towards the couch while holding the present in his hand. “y/n,” he started, lifting up your chin up to face him. your eyes wondering everywhere but to his own. “why’d you get me this?”

his tone was deep, with a serious undertone and it made you nervous. you had never seen him like this, you didn’t even think his voice could go that deep, dropping a few octaves from his normal voice. “i-im sorry.. i just wanted to give you something to help yourself!”

he looked down at you angrily, “what? you thought that just because i didn’t fuck you that i didn’t fuck anyone?” he leaned down closing the gap between you and him, “you’re right, though.”

you could feel his breath on yourself, making you even more nervous. “do you know why that is, y/n?” you nodded your head no as a response, unable to get any words out. “well, it’s because i want to fuck you, i always have.”

you gasped at the words, throat closing up at his words. “fuck it,” he said before closing the gap between you two, pushing his lips on yours. his hand sneaking around your body, one around your neck to deepen the kiss the other gripping your hips.

you moan into his mouth, he pulls away slowly. “i need you right now, y/n,” he says. “then fuck me, junnie!” you say in excitement awaiting his next move.

his eyes were full of lust and warmth, he kept steady eye contact with you as his he started getting on his knees between your thighs. he pressed the hot warmth of his mouth onto your clothed pussy. chuckling against you as your back arched from the friction. “baby, relax your body,”

you whine as his fingers grace your cunt, he plays with the waistband of your panties. “please! please do something renjun,” you pleaded him making him laugh at you before pulling your panties down and lapping at your pussy.

his hand grip at your thighs, and his tongue works your folds. he sucks on your clit like a madman, hungry and thirsty for you. “you’re so fucking wet, y/n,” he says while adding two fingers into your hole.

you gasp, throwing your head back, a scream ripping through your throat. “fuck, fuck!” you moan out, your hands making their way to his soft hair, grabbing a handful to guide him more into your pussy.

renjun looks up at you, seeing your pleased face, smiling to himself. “y/n, baby are you close?” he asks you in a sweet tone.

“mhm! fuck, yes i’m close junnie!” you moan out as a response. and just like that your body felt empty, your orgasm is quickly interrupted. a sadistic chuckle escaping him as he sees the sadness on your face. “why’d you stop?” you pout.

he smiles, cupping your face with his soft hands, caressing your hair before saying, “i want to feel you,” he says simply, kissing your swollen lips, “i wanna feel you come against my dick,”

you bite your lips, using your hands to pull his sweats down. letting his dick spring out against his abdomen. “can i ride you?” you ask, whispering into his ear as if you’d be ridiculed if you said it any louder.

“fuck, y/n, you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

you smile, climbing onto his hardened dick, using his arms as support. you both let out a pleased sigh as you sank down into his dick, slowly letting yourself adjust to his size.

you started to slowly bounce, but renjun had different plans. his hands rest on both sides of you, forcing himself into you fast, making your eyes roll back. he giggled bringing his head to rest on the nape of your shoulder as you rode him slowly.

the room was filled with the sound of your bodies slapping against each other, and your loud moans along with his quiet moans. you ran your nails over his toned back, biting his shoulder softly.

he uses his hands to lift you from bouncing, causing you to whine. “shh, baby,” he said pushing your head onto the soft couch in his dimly lit living room. you can feel yourself feeling hotter against his hard dick.

renjun aligned himself, hand resting on your lower abdomen, slowly entering you feeling himself against your lower stomach. “you alright y/n?” he asked earning a response from you almost immediately.

“yes, yes fuckkkk!” you scream into the cushion you were holding for support. “you’re fucking me so good, junnie.”

he smiled to himself, his thrusts becoming sloppier. he could feel himself getting closer and closer to coming undone. his hand worked its way to your clit rubbing circles, making your eyes roll back harder than before.

your legs were threatening to give up on you, and renjun gripped your hips to hold you up. “where do you want my cum?”

you moaned at the question, “in me please!”

he complied with your request, cumming in you. your body gave up on you, letting you fall down onto the couch. renjun let out a low chuckle. “you fucked me crazy, junnie!”

he smiled at you, pressing a kiss onto your lips, your eyes half closed. “yeah, i guess i did,” he laughed at your fucked out state. “do you still think i need that pocket pussy?”

you giggled, “definitely not, you probably think i’m the worse secret santa…”

he smiled, “this was the best gift i could ask for,” he said placing a soft kiss on your lips.

#nct smut #nct #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #nct dream #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct u #nct x reader #perfumejamal #renjun #SoundCloud

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victoryverse · 3 months

Note

could i get some cuddling with Soap headcanons? gender neutral or fem reader please

cuddling with soap(headcanons)

Soap MacTavish is surprisingly a big softie when it comes to cuddling. Despite his tough exterior on the battlefield, he absolutely loves wrapping his arms around you and holding you close.

His favorite cuddle position is the classic spooning, where he can rest his chin on the top of your head and feel the warmth of your body against his. He often whispers sweet nothings or shares amusing anecdotes from his military adventures to make you laugh.

Soap is a fan of soft, fuzzy blankets, and he insists on having a pile of them whenever you cuddle. He believes the more blankets, the cozier the cuddle session.

Picture this: you're busy doing something, and suddenly, Soap appears with a mischievous grin, sweeps you off your feet, carries you to the couch and flops you down, holding you with his arms and locking your legs with his. And you can't really escape him, can you?

He's not just about physical cuddling; Soap loves engaging in deep conversations during. Whether it's sharing dreams, and fears, or just discussing the day, he values the emotional connection that cuddling brings.

On rainy or chilly days, Soap transforms the living room into a makeshift pillow and blanket fort. He's such a big softie, and only you know that.

Soap is a fan of forehead kisses, and he loves peppering your face with them during cuddle time. It's his way of expressing affection without needing words.

If you're ever feeling down, Soap is quick to pull you into a warm embrace. His strong arms and comforting presence make everything feel better, turning a gloomy day into a cozy haven of love.

Sometimes, he surprises you with homemade hot chocolate or your favorite snacks, elevating the cuddling experience with sweet treats and warmth. After all, nothing says love like a cup of hot cocoa in the arms of a rugged soldier.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

tell me if you like this! i wanted to add some smut too, but tell me if you want me to do another with smut

thanks!

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creedslove · 11 months

Text

STORM BLISS ⛈️

Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: Joel was caught in a storm and got home dripping after patrol. It made you so turned on you didn't even let him dry himself up before riding your cowboy. But the next day he's got a cold and now you have to take care of him

(this can be read as a sequence to SLEEP BLISS 💤, SHOWER BLISS 🫧, MOONLIGHT BLISS 🌙, BABY BLISS 🍼 PART ONE AND TWO, and CHOCOLATE CAKE BLISS 🎂 or it can be read as a one shot, it's up to you)

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff, so much fluff, mentions of smut, mentions of cockwarming, sick!Joel, out of character!Joel, pregnancy talk

A/N: I'm sick so everybody gets sick as well!!!

1.2k words (short and sweet)

When you heard Joel's first coughs and how suddenly his voice got hoarse when he first woke up in the morning, you felt quite guilty.

You knew perhaps you weren't the one responsible for his cold, but maybe you were just a little, when the night before, when he came home after patrol under heavy rain, instead of sending him straight to a warm shower, giving him a warm cup of tea while you cooked some soup for dinner, you just pushed him down the couch and straddled him.

There was something about wet haired Joel that stirred something inside of you. You just saw him entering the house, his heavy coat drenched, his boots dripping and his wet hair, brown eyes lit up when he saw you, and for a minute, he looked more like a stray dog caught in the rain than anything else.

Your heart raced, it always did when you saw Joel, and to think he was yours, was just another level of feelings to you. But then he took his coat off and you saw the rain had poured through the coat. And his flannel hung tight around his body, humid and outlining his broad chest, and that set your core on fire.

You remember well when you walked to him, placed your hands on his shoulders, caressing and biting your lips.

"The storm caught you really bad, didn't it handsome?"

And then Joel nodded, with his sweet puppy brown eyes and all you could do was to push him onto the nearest surface you could find and straddle him.

If you remembered well, you even said something about wanting to ride a cowboy, which made Joel laugh in amusement and groan in arousal. He loved when you acted all slutty just for him.

And he happily obliged your desire of riding a cowboy, even if he technically wasn't one.

And after riding that thick cock, you just stayed there, his length buried deep inside of you, as you clung to his wet body, instead of covering him in a warm blanket, you just rested your head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

You felt him go soft inside of you, but your walls still clenched around his cock, earning soft groans from him.

It just felt so good and you held your breath when his hand rested on your womb, stroking it gently.

He hadn't brought any baby talks, but what if?

You were about to ask him again, but his kissable lips seemed so inviting you didn't resist, you just leaned in and let him kiss you again.

And then, in the morning, you woke up to Joel coughing. At first he tried reassuring you it was no big deal, but you could tell just by the way he slowly and carefully swallowed, his throat was sore.

You told him to lie down in bed some more while you made you both breakfast, preparing some ginger and lemon tea. It might not taste great but it certainly helped with any discomfort.

And then you noticed his hair humid and glued to his forehead. It wasn't hot and yet he was sweating, so you knew he had a fever. And you didn't like it one bit.

You sighed and got the thermometer, checking up his temperature and had your confirmation.

Joel frowned " 's fine, I'm not sick" he complained and tried getting up, but you held your hand against his chest

"You're not going anywhere today, you're staying here and you will obey me, got it?"

A part of Joel wanted to laugh on your face. He survived twenty years in the apocalypse by going through a lot worse than just a small fever. He had been wounded, stabbed, beaten up, he'd been sick for real, without any pills or cups of tea to heal him. Not to mention you didn't actually stand a chance in forcing him into bed if he wanted to get up.

But another part of him tried to remember when was the last time someone actually took care of him.

The last time he got sick and someone made sure he had warm blankets, was drinking enough water, made him chicken soup and kissed him goodnight. He couldn't remember, but he was probably still a child.

He had always been the one who took care of people, watched over them, protected them and killed for them.

But now he had you, and you were willing to do all of that for him. Joel didn't want you putting a bullet in someone's head for him, but maybe taking care of him while he had a cold, wouldn't hurt after all.

So he only softened up and nodded.

"Sure thing, sweetheart" he lay back against the pillow, letting you cover him again and hand him the cup of tea.

He saw the way he gazed at you and frowned, he had that small smirk, the one that screamed asshole Joel all over it and though it turned you on, it also made you angry.

You placed his now empty cup on the nightstand and titled your head to the side.

"What?"

Joel chuckled and shook his head

"It's nothing really, you're just acting like a mom right now" he shrugged and saw your puzzled face

"Is that bad?"

"It is if we don't have our baby yet…"

Your jaw dropped. Joel had been giving you hints of being welcome to pregnancies here and there, but he'd never been forward about it, not until now.

"Joel, I-.. do you really want this?" You bit your lips

"Why not? We're safe here, we have each other and I know I'm not a good person, but I could be a good dad, I was one once"

You shook your head and pecked his forehead "you are a good person and you would be the best daddy in the world… but I think this is only the fever talking"

Joel chuckled again, his hand went for your womb, stroking it softly and nuzzling your neck.

"If it's just the fever talking, why did I dream of Sarah? Why did I dream of her telling me our baby is already here?" He asked and pulled you closer, pecking your tummy so gently.

You were speechless. Joel had never said anything remotely like that. You hadn't heard him talking about his daughter, everything about her he kept to himself. You had no clue if he believed in the afterlife or not, you were sure he just had a fever induced dream, and he would probably not even remember the conversation when he woke up the next time after the tylenol kicked in, but you just couldn't tell him that, you couldn't crush his silly hope. Maybe Joel needed that, he needed to believe in that.

You smiled and nodded at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and snuggling him "yes, you're right, handsome… maybe our baby is already here" you placed your hand on top of his and pecked his lips.

Joel held you tight and didn't take long to fall back asleep.

When he finally woke up, it was almost evening and his fever had broken much to your relief.

He hadn't mentioned his dream, nor the conversation you two had while he burned up, but his hand never left your womb, for as long as you lay next to each other.

_____

A/N: would you really look into this face and say no to carrying this man's baby???????????????¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿?

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou show

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sturniolocraft · 2 months

Text

౨ৎ hot chocolate in march, dad!matt x reader !!

summary: when the kids demand hot chocolate, even when it's way past winter and it's beginning to get sunny, their dad is going to get them their hot chocolate.

a/n— first time writing publicly hi ^_^ this is kinda short but hopefully ppl don't mind?? i rlly enjoy writing for this au sooo expect more

matt was the first to wake, light barely peeking in from behind the curtains as small hands poked at his face. he stared blankly at his son's bright blue eyes, still bundled up in blankets with you exhausted and asleep on his chest.

"cody, it's—," he looked over at the broken alarm clock before huffing and unplugging his phone, reading the bright screen that said six am. "it's six. what're you doing, bud?"

cody looked around with a cheeky smile before gesturing to his younger sister, peeking into the bedroom, her eyes red from crying and clutching a stuffed eeyore. "eve is sad," he informed while trying to pull his dad out of bed. "she wants hot chocolate!"

matt didn't bother arguing with them, knowing that they'd win anyway. he presses a soft kiss to your temple before standing up, leaving a sloppy note explaining where him and the kids are, then he set off.

it was a hassle fixing his kids to look presentable. they had attempted to dress themselves already, anticipating the trip they'd take. cody was wearing his shoes on the wrong feet, and everly had mismatched shoes on along with her shirt backward.

he didn't bother with his appearance much, throwing on different pants and loading the kids up in the car with their own respective portions of cereal in their snack cups. he ignores the mess cody makes, deciding that he can just clean the car when you take the kids.

"so what kind of hot chocolate are we thinking?" he asks them, pulling into the parking lot. he drives around looking for a spot while listening to their chatter, cody says that they should get the ones with mini marshmallows and everly agrees, so that's what they'll search for.

cody ends up acting like a pirate as soon as he's set into the cart, "argh! matey, we need thy cocoa!" he says loudly, impatiently waiting for his dad to buckle up everly into the cart seat.

matt fumbles with cleaning the cart and buckling her in, but he complies with cody's pirate behavior. "aye aye, captain," he says with a seriousness that makes both kids laugh. it's barely seven as they cruise around the aisles of the store, searching for the brand that they want.

everly is the first to point it out, her little hand almost hitting his face when she points at it and says "daddy look!". the hot chocolate mix gets put into the cart, instantly being arranged neatly by cody, who has now declared himself captain of the cart.

as matt is about to wheel over to the check out, his phone buzzes with a text. he tells cody to calm down for a second, not that it works, and goes to answer the phone.

you:

it's almost 7:30 and march whyre u out buying hot cocoa ml??

matt:

eve cried to cody abt wanting some :(

you:

u big softie <3

matt smiled at his phone for a moment before trying to hide it when both kids began saying ew and telling him that he's in love, he couldn't hide it while he said that you're their mother and they should shush and love you too.

neither kid argued that, only pointing and giggling at him some more before pleading with him to get a toy. he doesn't talk to you about it later on how they ended up with a bag full. "they must've slipped them in while he wasn't looking." he says, but both kids end up just shaking their heads from behind him.

#button's writing tag #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo fluff

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mcondance · 5 months

Text

allow me to speak about kissing stevo for just a second

at punk shows stevo kisses dirty. against a wall in the crowded, hot room, punks bumping against punks in the mosh while you and stevo bump tongues just a couple feet away.

you both never really know who initiated it; just know that one second you were pushing and shoving and the next you’ve got each others tongues in your mouth, and your back is hitting the cool wall behind you.

you both grunt at the impact, his hands flying to your face and yours tangling in his shirt. he tastes like bud and liquor, some cheap shit that burns more than it tastes good. you taste like vanilla and weed. gripping your face with both hands is how he keeps you against him, and he lets you yank his body against yours with your tight grip on his shirt, pulling his lean frame as close to yours as you can. the sounds that escape you both are almost animalistic, growls and grunts and cut off curses that match the atmosphere.

stevo kisses filthy, tongue and spit and big hands cupping your face, his body pressing you into the wall. his tongue doesn’t stay in its place, instead exploring and tasting your lips, swirling around your mouth until your chin is cold from the air against his spit. he doesn’t take breaks to breathe, just inhales and exhales into your mouth until you’re sure the air you both are breathing is just the others cycled back.

in his van stevo kisses thoroughly. he kisses soft, big hand rubbing gently across your cheek as you both lean over the console. pulled over somewhere in an abandoned park, you swap spit and lick into each other’s mouth with leisure. it’s a date, sort of, an impromptu trip to the gas station and a drive around the slc.

closed mouth pecks turn into deeper kisses, less and less time between each one until it becomes unbearable to separate. there’s no where to go, he takes his time to taste you, to lick at your vanilla flavored gloss, to really feel your tongue against his. he tastes like the snacks you shared earlier. chocolate flavor lingers on his tongue.

with swollen lips he devours you, pleasureful and satisfied, softer music than his usual punk stuff flowing quietly from his radio. its changed songs a handful of times the whole time you’ve been kissing and you’ve lost track of how long it’s even been, the cassette flipping from his music to yours, a shared mixtape you’d crafted one night. wet smacks fill the air, the soft pops of your lips disconnecting just to merge again do too, heads swaying from one side to the other.

his nose bumps against yours, and your hands are caressing either side of his face. it’s calm, it’s romantic. he hums and you embrace, making the most of this moment. somehow, you don’t run out of breath, the small inhales and exhales you take supplying your almost unbroken kisses.

at your place stevo kisses comfortably. his hands run up your back, or grip at your thighs on either side of him, his back curved to allow him to reach your lips. sunlight streams in through the windows and another cassette plays. bob’s out with trish, should be out all night and that’s perfect, it feels different when it’s just you and stevo.

with your face in his hands is how he kisses you, open-mouthed and sloppy, blissful moans flowing from his lips. something feels different about kissing you in the room that you share, on the blanket that you both agreed on, in the space you’ve both cultivated.

you feel warm inside. his hand finds your chin when you take a second to breathe, tilting your lips to his again, blues low and dark as he commits your face to memory again. stevo’s in fucking love, and you feel it every time he moves his lips against yours, every time he gets to taste you on his tongue. you taste like you, a beautiful something he’s gotten used to. he’s comfortable, sure of what he has with you, and you can feel it in every kiss. he tastes like him.

stevo kisses like he wants to marry you (he does). he kisses sweet and tender and so unlike his outward appearance. hands tangled in his blue hair, you return his devotion.

#you can thank @hanasnx for this btw he encouraged me to write about kissin stevo #stevo levy #stevo nation you have been summoned you have 36 hours to get back to me #stevo levy smut #slc punk #slc punk 1998 #matthew lillard smut #slc punk!#cw weed #cw alcohol #matthew lillard #stevo x reader #stevo levy x reader #matthew lillard x reader

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goldenempyrean · 5 months

Note

Hi, it’s so hot here so can I request a winter scenario with Wanda and sick reader with the prompts "You’re going to catch your death out here.” Bless you… Bless you! Are you okay- bless you again!”.

I was thinking the Avengers are hosting a snow day for underprivileged kids at the compound. Reader has never seen snow in person, so she spends all her time making snow angels and getting in snowball fights with the kids. Reader wakes up the next morning with a really sneezy cold. Wanda shifts into fluffy caretaker mode, and the other Avengers are watching like, wow Wanda really loves her. ❄️🥰

Baby It's Cold Outside

〚 Notes - Wow it really has been a while since I've done requests, I'm so sorry this took so long! I hope it's okay but I switched things around a little to have Wanda experiencing the snow :D Enjoy! 〛

〚 Pairing - Wanda Maximoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Your girlfriend experiences the snow for the day first leading to a day of fun and excitement. Maybe you should've insisted that she wear her hat though..〛

〚 Wordcount - 2395 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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“Wanda!” You smiled as you gently caught the wrist of your eager girlfriend just before she’d raced out of the door, “You need to wear these sweetpea, it’s too cold without them.” You murmured softly, taking the pair of pink gloves you’d shoved in your pocket earlier that morning and carefully pulled over her hands.

“Oh! But I won't be able to feel the snow now!” You could almost feel her whine, as stuck out her lower lip pouted up at you.

But you only shook your head fondly as you pulled a matching pink bobble head over her hair, “You’ll most definitely still feel it Wands, it’s just to stop you getting too cold. Okay?”

“Okay.”

You smiled at her, she was practically overflowing with excitement, “Alright sweetheart, go enjoy yourself. I’ll be out with some hot chocolate soon.”

Now you see, Wanda had never seen snow before. The blanket of pristine white powder that had fallen during the night, holding the land in its icy grip and the look on her face when she’d woken up that morning and taken in the view from the window was a look you’d never forget. Such pure excitement and rushing anticipation to experience it all.

Every year whenever it snowed, the Avenger’s liked to open up their campus to the kids in the local community. The wide-open fields provided not only a big, but also safe place for them to happily play. Parents had a temporary respite and the whole team grew their relationships with the community as a whole. Plus, the kids had fun too. It was a win, win. 

During breakfast Wanda had practically been bouncing in her seat. They’d opened the field half an hour ago and there were already several kids putting in the work to make some snowmen. All she wanted was to go out there and join them as soon as possible. So as soon she’d finished eating the last of her waffles, she’d headed straight for the field.

You paused for a moment to watch the wonder on her face as she dove into the soft white snow, the wide grin on her face felt contagious as your own lip’s helplessly morphed into a soft loving smile. 

“Right, hot chocolate.” You said to yourself, bringing yourself back to reality, stealing one last glance at your girlfriend in the snow - she’d laid flat on her back and had begun making snow angels after a little girl had showed her how.

You turned on your toes and headed back to the kitchen, taking out a stack of cardboard cups and making sure you had enough for everyone. Once you were sure, you began heating up the milk. Yes, you used milk. The debate of whether to use milk or hot water had been had way too many times. Sam insisted that you were meant to use hot water which had horrified you the first time you heard his claim. As you waited for the milk to warm, you stood up on your tiptoes to pull a fresh bag of mini marshmallows from the cupboard.

They were meant to be hidden in Natasha’s secret stash of snacks, but you figured she wouldn’t mind… as long as you placed them before she noticed they were gone. Once the milk had heated you added the hot chocolate powder and poured it into the cups, decorating each one with whipped cream and a generous sprinkle of the marshmallows. Perfect.

Heading back to the door, you called out loudly, “Kids! Who wants hot chocolate?” Receiving several loud squeals of excitement in response as they all turned and ran back inside to grab a cup. 

They were all well-mannered and you smiled fondly as each child said a ‘thank you’ before taking their cup and racing back outside. After each cup had been taken you noticed that the large white mug, you’d made special sit sat on the side of the countertop. Wanda hadn’t even come inside for hot chocolate, you smiled to yourself at just how much she must’ve been enjoying herself before taking the cup, feeling its warmness sink into your hands before grabbing a scarf and heading out into the snow to find her.

Several other members of the team had also decided to join in on the fun and you couldn’t hold back a laugh as you saw Clint get pelted in the face by a snowball hurled by Natasha from several feet away. Tony also seemed to be enjoying himself, he’d apparently crowned himself leader of the 6-year-olds and they were all using his technology to build a huge igloo to play inside.

“Wands?” You called out as you got closer to your team members, to which your eyes widened in surprise seeing a familiar head of messy brunette hair pop up from behind a huge snow boulder that was apparently the base to a huge snowman that her and Steve had joined up to build. 

“Wands!” You smiled but then her messy hair caught your attention, “Sweetheart, where’s your hat? Hm? I thought I told you to wear it.” You said - you would’ve put your hands on your hips, but you were still holding her mug, “Oh, and your gloves.” You added with a sigh as you realised, she was also missing her pink accessories.

“I’m sorry! They were just getting in the way, and I really wanted to just feel the snow.”

“And did you?” 

Wanda beamed excitedly as she knelt down and picked up some snow, pressing it into a ball before holding it proudly, “Yes, look!”

How could you lecture her about keeping warm when she was just so cute. “Look what I brought you.” You smiled, remembering the chocolatey drink in your hands, “Here you go.”

To say her eyes lit up would be an understatement. They practically sparkled as she accepted the warm cup, her cold hands cradling the object as if it were the most important thing in the world. She took a sip and looked up at you, “Thank you baby.” She murmured, the gratitude in her voice clear.

You smiled back at her, “No problem sweetie, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” You said, removing the scarf you’d put on earlier and gently wrapped it around her neck instead, to which she instantly snuggled against it, “But seriously, you’re going to catch your death out here if you don’t stay home so keep that on for me darling, okay?”

"She's really got you wrapped around her finger, huh?" Natasha smirked playfully as she walked past, and you didn’t notice the way her hand was suspiciously hidden behind her back.

You shot her a fake glare, "Well, when your girlfriend looks at snow like it's the most magical thing in the world, you'd do anything to make sure she stays warm and happy."

Wanda giggled, taking another sip of her hot chocolate, her eyes never leaving yours. The warmth in her gaze made your heart flutter, and you couldn't help but be grateful for these moments of joy. But your attempt of saving the moment was starkly stopped when you felt the sudden shock of feeling a freezing hold object hit the back of your neck followed by what could only be described as hyena laughing coming from the redheaded assassin a few yards away.

“Got you!” Natasha managed to say inbetween laughs.

“Oh, you are so on.” You smirked widely, cracking your knuckles before picking up your own handful of snow, “Come on, let’s get her Wands’.”

After a spirited exchange of snowballs, you all collapsed into the snow, breathless and grinning and as the evening settled in, the Avengers decided to wrap up the snow day festivities. The kids, rosy-cheeked and filled with joy, gathered around for a final round of hot chocolate before heading home. Wanda, still wrapped in the scarf you had given her, stood close by, she was a little quieter now, seemingly having used up all her energy during her day of fun and the small yawns she’d been trying to hide in your scarf was your sign she was probably ready for bed.

As the last of the kids said their goodbyes, you turned your attention back to Wanda. Both her cheeks and nose were slightly red from the cold, and she sniffled a little as she tried to suppress another yawn. You couldn't help but chuckle at her adorable exhaustion. She really did make that snow day worth it’s while and you were so glad that she enjoyed herself so much.

"Looks like someone had a lot of fun today," you teased, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Wanda leaned into your side, nodding with a content smile. "It was incredible, Y/N, I've never experienced anything like this before. The snow, it was so cold but oh it was amazing! I loved it so much!”

You pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, sweetheart. Now, how about we get you inside and warmed up a bit? I’ve already put the fluffy blanket you like in the dryer, so it’ll be super warm for you.”

Before long, the two of you were cuddled up beneath the blanket on one of the sofas in the living quarters. Some cheesy reality TV show was playing on the big TV screen though you weren’t really watching, it was there for the benefit of Clint and Bruce who’d also joined the pair of you and were currently arguing over who was the best Kardashian – much to your amusement.

After some time, you noticed that Wanda's eyes were growing heavy as she snuggled against you. Her head rested against your shoulder, and her breathing slowed down. It was evident that the combination of the day's excitement and the warmth of the blanket was lulling her to sleep.

Gently, you lifted her in your arms and carried her to your shared bedroom. You carefully laid her down on the bed, tucking her in with extra care. Wanda mumbled a soft 'thank you my love' in her sleepy state, and you pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed yourself. It didn’t take long and soon you were back to the bed and cuddled up under the blankets and falling asleep right beside her.

The next morning, you woke up to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. You stretched lazily, feeling well-rested after the previous day's festivities. Turning to your side, you expected to see Wanda still peacefully asleep. However, you were met with a surprising sight.

Wanda was awake, sitting up in bed with a sheepish smile on her face. She held a tissue in one hand, and her nose was slightly red. It was then that you noticed a faint, adorable sneeze escape her, which she quickly tried to muffle with the tissue.

You couldn't help but chuckle at her adorable attempt to be quiet. "Bless you, Wands," you whispered, sitting up beside her.

She sniffled and rubbed her nose, giving you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, did I wake you up baby? I was trying to be quiet.” She sniffled again, however this time it didn’t have the intended effect, her breath hitching a little as her face shifted into an awaiting look of anticipation.

“Hh.. Hih-H’iiishu!”

“Bless you bab- Bless you! Are you okay?- bless you again!” Your eyes widened as your girlfriend couldn’t seem to stop sneezing, “Goodness sweetheart! Now you see this is why we wrap up warm when it’s freezing out. I think you’ve caught yourself a cold my love.

Wanda pouted slightly as scrunched up her nose, “Maybe just a little one but it was really worth it, I swear!”

“Oh of course, that seemed like just little cold.” You rolled your eyes at her stubborn nature before softening at the sound of her small pitiful sniffles, “I’ll tell you what, how about we have a cosy day in today?”

Wanda smiled, her grin dancing on her lips, “That sounds amazing pumpkin.”

“I’m glad it does baby, cosy day in it is then!”

So, the two of you, adorned in fluffy pyjamas, armed with a tissue box and the big, thick duvet from your bed settled onto the sofa again, snuggling down against each other before you handed Wanda the remote, letting her pick a movie to watch.

Wanda scrolled through the list of movies on the screen. After a brief discussion, you both settled on a classic romantic comedy – something light and heartwarming to lift Wanda's spirits. The movie started playing, and the soft glow from the screen illuminated the room.

As the movie progressed, you noticed your girlfriend’s eyes growing heavy, and her head slowly drooping onto your shoulder. The combination of the movie and the warmth of the blanket had lulled her into a peaceful slumber. You couldn't resist pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before allowing yourself to succumb to the urge to nap right there with her.

Unbeknownst to you, Tony had been wandering around the living quarters, looking for something to entertain himself. As he strolled past your shared space, he couldn't help but notice the adorable scene unfolding on the sofa. There you were, wrapped in the oversized duvet, with Wanda nestled against your side, both of you sound asleep.

The genius smirked mischievously. Instead of waking either of you up, he simply pulled out his phone and took a quick photo... then a selfie with the two of you in the background – oh how he’d tease you both about this later -. before quietly asking FRIDAY to call Romanoff and Barton down to the living room.

Tony stood proudly, as if he had orchestrated the whole thing. “I didn't know they could be this sappy.” He teased quietly.

“Should we wake them up?” Clint whispered, not wanting to disturb either of you.

“Nah, let ‘em sleep. Wanda probably needs it, and Y/N will be grumpy if we wake them anyway.” Tony cautioned before sneaking away from the room.

Natasha, who had her own soft spot for romance, simply nodded in agreement. Before nudging Clint to take a closer look at how your hand was holding your girlfriend’s even in your sleep, "Looks like someone's got a touch of the love bug."

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #sickfic #fluff #soft #caretaking #wanda maximoff sickfic #mcu #marvel

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myhimbomingi · 6 months

Text

Dreamland

pairing: mingi x gender neutral reader! genre: established relationship and fluff ~ wc: 1k summary: you have had a long day at work and just can't wait to see your boyfriend. little did you know, he was going to surprise you instead of doing your typical routine together.

a/n: this is my very first fic!! i hope you all enjoy my insane love for mingi hehe! i am looking forward to write more in the future :) please share any feedback you may have! much appreciated!

You tiredly look at the time on your computer, hoping the work day is finally over.

It’s only 3 pm!?

You think to yourself, releasing a deep sigh. You take out your phone to text your boyfriend to get into a better headspace, hoping his sweet words will give you the energy to keep going instead of quitting on the spot.

“Mangiiiiiiiiii~”

“Babeeeeeeee!~”

“I’m not sure if I can make it. It’s only 3 o’clock. I’m tired, stressed, and just miss you ;-;”

“You can’t give up y/n!! I will not allow it! >:( I did make it home early so if you get through the day I will give you all the love in the world!”

You giggle at his text. You knew whatever he was gonna say was going to make you smile. You have a feeling he will have some dinner ready for you with your favorite cozy pajamas out for you to change into immediately. You grow a big smile on your face just thinking about it.

“Okay! I will work hard until the very end! Love you bunches! <3”

“That’s what I like to hear~ love you bunches too!”

You heart his message and put your phone away. You straighten your posture and get right to work with this new fire under you that Mingi has given you.

*****

As you are walking up to your apartment door, you could smell delicious food floating in the air. You can’t really make out what it is, but you know it’s going to be good.

You excitedly unlock your door and walk in, quickly closing the door behind you and taking off your shoes.

“Mingi, I’m back!” You exclaim, as you put your shoes in their place.

“Babe!”

Mingi scurries over to you, wrapping his strong arms around you in a tight bear hug.

You wrap your arms back around him, squishing your face deeper into his chest, feeling his warmth that you have missed all day while being in an office ice box. You take a deep breath, breathing in his scent. You really are back home.

Mingi kisses the top of your head. You can feel his smile through the kiss, making you giggle.

“I’m so happy you’re home. I have a fun surprise for you!”

“Really?” You look up at him with a confused look. You thought you already predicted what the night will be but didn’t expect your boyfriend to do something more than the usual.

Mingi releases you, looking at you with the most precious smile. He moves out the way of your vision into the apartment, leaving his one arm wrapped around your waist.

“Tada!!” He opens his other arm out presenting what he has done.

You scan the room in amazement.

The living room has been transformed with blankets and pillows on the floor while the couch is now a pillow fort with fairy lights all around it. The coffee table has a lit candle, smelling like eucalyptus, along with two plates of the dinner you two are about to eat together.

You scan over to the kitchen to the left of you, seeing two mugs, packets of hot chocolate, and a big bag of mini marshmallows - all set and ready for your sweet treat after your dinner.

“You have been working so hard lately,” Mingi says, breaking the silence. “I really wanted to do something extra special for you this time around. I remember you mentioning how you used to do this as a kid and I thought it would be fun to have you experience that again”

You are speechless and before you realize it, a few tears fall down your face.

Mingi hears you sniffling and looks down at you “Y/n! Why are you crying??”

He cups his large but soft hands around your face, wiping the tears gently with his thumbs.

“Did I upset you with this? I am so sorry..”

Mingi looks at you so worried, like a puppy who thinks they did something wrong.

You look up at him, cupping his face as well, bringing his face closer to yours to give him a soft but meaningful kiss.

“No, Mingi. I love this so much. I am just feeling so overjoyed right now”

You give him a soft smile and kiss him one more time.

Mingi releases his hands from your face and places them on your hips, bringing your body closer to his. He leans more into your kiss with much more passion.

You both release and you give him the biggest smile with sparkly eyes from your tears.

“Now I would love to try this dinner you made and snuggle up to you in our pillow fort!”

Mingi gave you the biggest smile, kissed your forehead, and took your hand to lead you to your pillowfort dreamland.

At this moment, you couldn’t believe you are being shown so much love from Mingi. You never had luck with relationships in the past but here you are now with someone who thinks about you and will do anything to make your days much happier.

You smile with this thought as you take a bite of your food.

“What are you smiling about?” Mingi asks with his own smile on his face.

You shrug as you put your fork down “Nothing really. Just feeling very lucky having you as mine”

You blush in embarrassment from even saying something like this out loud.

“Seems like more than nothing to me!” Mingi chuckles then gives you a kiss on your temple. “I also feel very lucky”

You lean into him as his arm wraps around you. You both continue to eat together snuggled up, laughing and enjoying each other's company.

I wonder what other surprises he will come up with next.

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estellxli · 1 month

Text

Banana (Kazuha x Reader)

It was just an afternoon, like any other, with the winds blowing a soothing tune from the outside. The room warmed from the invited sun. A piece of ham plops into the sizzling pan accompanied by another. With a spatula in one hand, Kazuha’s thoughts drift elsewhere.

His brows furrows and the grip on the spatula tightens. The heat coming from the pan did not compare to the rage building inside him. He mindlessly flips the two hams over and takes a deep breath. Maintaining a cool mind. Nonetheless, if any of his suspicions were true he would—

The kettle's loud angry scream drowns out the sizzling; disturbing Kazuha with his thoughts.

His hands move to put out the fire, for both the pan and the kettle, and grabs an empty plate. The spatula transferring the ham to the porcelain plate. Kazuha moves swiftly in the kitchen , preparing sweets, sliced cheese and a newly made sandwich all placed in a wooden tray.

He grabs the now calmed kettle and works his way into making a matcha latte. One that he bought after arriving back in Inazuma from his trip with Beidou. Apparently, it helps in menstrual pain, something about an acid that helps relax the muscles of the uterus… or something along those lines that a saleslady said to him.

Kazuha makes way to your bedroom with the wooden tray in his hands. He uses the door ajar to his advantage, his foot placed in between the space created by the door and the wall and using his hip to open the door wider.

You were on the bed just the same as he left the room. All curled up in the blanket like a pita pocket.

“Y/N.”

You turn to him, with your head barely popping out of the thick fabric. The corner of your lips immediately turn into a big smile as you squeal. Cries from your insides all momentarily gone as you sit up and excitedly pat the empty side of the bed.

All because of Kazuha.

…

Mostly because of the food.

Your boyfriend chuckles at your childish actions. You eyed at the wooden tray as you felt the bed embrace his weight. The chocolates are your first pick.

Kazuha’s eyes remained on the bruise that stained your skin as you took a bite of the chocolate. Lips still curled upwards while chewing.

“Is it to your liking?”

“Very.”

His eyes drop on the tray, noticing the ripples of the matcha. “Here, try this one too, I heard it helps with the cramps?”.

You grab the chawan cup from his hands, nodding at his warning that it's still hot. The matcha warms your insides, something that the hot compress laying at your stomach couldn't do.

Kazuha gulps.

“Y/N”

“Hm?” You look at him innocently, palms still embracing the warm cup.

“Is someone bullying you?”

Your doed eyes turn into confusion.

“Look, if someone ever tries to harm you, you know you can always come to me. I'll burn them with hot iron, slice —”

You chuckle at him, his turn now to be confused. You chuckle even when you hear the seriousness in his voice. When he's offering help and protection.

“Kazuha, no one is harming me. Whatever makes you think that?” you say as you place down the cup

“Your bruises.” he says, soft and stern altogether.

“Ah… that.” you stare at the bruise painting your skin, and you giggle even more.

You turn your eyes into another direction and cover your lips to stifle the laughter, but you couldn't help it.

“Sorry, sorry.. it's just.. pfft…”

You look back at him, your lips still smiling.

“I promise no one is harming me. I mean that genuinely. It's just that… I bruise very easily whenever I'm on my period.”

Kazuha’s brows furrow even more into confusion.

“I'm serious!... Every woman has different symptoms when they're on their period. Some don't feel cramps, some do to the extent of fainting. Women bruising easily isn't common, but they exist.”

“I see.”

Kazuha’s confused state now returns to his usual one. He raises his hands and hides his chin over his index.

“Mhm!” you exclaim happily with the misunderstanding out of the way.

He looks back at you and smiles, his hands now reaching for a piece of chocolate.

“For you to bruise easily like that, you're practically like a banana.” he chuckingly teased.

“A what!?”

Kazuha grins, carefully shoving the chocolate into your opened lips as he mouths,

“A banana"

#kazuha #kazuha genshin impact #genshin impact #fluff #fluff/comfort #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha x y/n #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fanfics #genshin x y/n

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sofasoap · 10 months

Text

Little Bear

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x F!Reader

Summary: How you got your pet name from Soap

Warning : Nothing but fluff , T-M theme. Not beta’ed.

Part of Little Bear series

Masterlist

“…. You alright there bonnie???”

Soap couldn’t help but chuckle when he saw you, wearing a warm pastel colour fleece jacket, with a hoodie, complete with two little round ears on the top. You look absolutely adorable. Just like a human sized teddy bear.

“I'm cold….” You pouted, looking at your boyfriend with glossy eyes, shivering away. Feeling totally opposite to adorable. Despite being wrapped up like a furball underneath five layers of blankets, hugging tight onto a steamy hot cup of chocolate, heater pointing at your feet, on full blast, you still feel like you are living on a wild arctic plain, can’t get yourself warm enough, despite whatever you do.

Moving himself to sit beside you, giving you a loving kiss on the lip before he puts the mug onto the coffee table and peels open the layers of blanket, and pulls you into his chest with his strong arm. Gosh, he is like a human furnace. You sigh in content as you instantly melt into his embrace.

“Is that better, little bear?”

Lifting your head in confusion, “Little bear?”

“Yes, my adorable little bear.” He smiled as he tugged the little round ears on your hoodies. Burying your face further into his chest, embarrassed. “I am not cute nor adorable.”

“Hey, never say that.” He cups your face with both of his hands, tilting it up and leaning into your forehead. “Never put yourself down like that.” His baby blue eyes softened. “You are intelligent,” soft kiss on your left cheek, “great personality,” another kiss on your right cheek, “an absolute beauty,” Finishing with a long loving kiss on your lip,

“I love you for who you are, not what you are.”

“Not even when I am a cute little teddy bear?”

He laughed.

“Come on. What would you like for dinner?”

“How’s my little bear doing today?”

“Does my little bear need any assistance in… tension relief??”

“You know you are my beloved little teddy bear right?”

“I miss you, little bear.”

“ I love you, My dearest Bear.”

This is the first in the new series I am starting, dedicated to @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world , “The little bear” , featuring 300-500 words slice-of-life drabbles. I aim to try and bring some fluff and comfort into dear Bear’s life ( because you deserve it ). I hope I will do Soap some justice ( bringing some love to him and try to portray his character right.)

Tag list :

@kaplerrr

@homicidal-slvt

@floral-force

#johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x fem reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish imagine #johnny soap mactavish xf!reader #johnny soap mactavish x you #Little bear series #sofasoap writes #call of duty #johnny mactavish #john mactavish fluff #johnny soap mactavish x female!reader #johnny soap mactavish fluff

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astroboots · 2 years

Text

Something Old, Something Borrowed

Summary: You wear Frankie’s clothes a lot and Santiago has feelings about that.

A/N: This was going to be a desperate sexy oneshot and then I wrote it and decided, it doesn't need the sex (I DO NOT EVEN KNOW WHO I AM ANYMORE). Fluff, aaaaaall fluff.

Pairing: Santiago x female reader (you) x (hints of Frankie)

Wordcount: 4.1k words

Homecoming Universe | Astroboot’s Masterlist

You wear Frankie’s clothing a lot around the house. It’s not a complaint. It’s a very good look on you, Santiago thinks.

Softworn flannel shirts in chequered patterns of loud screechy red, or blue and yellows that Santiago cannot resist making fun of Frankie for wearing. You’ll sit on the couch, wearing one with a book in your lap and a warm cup of chocolate. On you those ugly fashion crimes look soft and inviting like you were wrapped in one big comfort blanket.

There are also old knitted sweaters that you wear whenever you do house chores. They’re washed out and threading at the seams. Oversized enough to be little bit too big on Frankie, never mind on you, but he still loves them on you.

Frankie’s old corduroy jacket that smells of worn leather and wood chips, that he wraps around your shoulders when you’re out and the Florida climate gets a bit too chilly in the evening.

Santiago has a special kind of fondness for all of them. His favorite though? It’s the old military sweatshirt, a standardized edition they were issued with back in basics when they first joined. It’s a drab old thing. Grey cotton, loose-fitting without any shape or form.

Santiago has the same one. He hates it. It’s scratchy and uncomfortable, the material is not even 100% cotton, some weird cheap polyester and wool blend that left him with red bumps every time he used to wear it. It’s why he had left it with his mom in the early days, stuffed in one of the mountain-pile of boxes packed away in his mom’s old attic along with all his other worldly possessions that he couldn’t carry on his back as he found himself increasingly on foot, never stationary long enough in one place to call it a home.

It’s a horrible sweatshirt. But it’s your favorite and in some odd way, that makes it his favorite too.

You wear it all the time.

On chilly mornings, when you’ve made up your mind to stay inside the house to take care of chores and lazily lounge on the sofa watching some new Netflix show. Whenever you’re down with a cold or a flu, sucking on lemon drops and nursing hot tea.

Back when he was still on missions, taking on long strings of soul-crushing assignments, finding himself in an endless series of forgettable motels and safeholds in one nameless place after another that all congealed into an abstract concept of not home, he’d start feeling homesick. Not for Florida, not for a place, just… maybe, you, and maybe Frankie. Your voices, and your face. There would be a handful of occasions when he finally gave into temptation and just called you (too chicken shit to call Frankie in case he’d still be mad at Santiago for leaving in the first place).

On those occasions, when the dial tone clicked and you finally answered his video call, more often than not the battered old grey sweatshirt would fill his phone screen.

It’s why, when Santiago thinks of that sweatshirt, he thinks of home.

“Shit,” you exclaim.

You’re holding up Frankie’s grey army sweatshirt, inspecting it in your hands, as your face scrunches up tight with a frown.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s a hole in the sweatshirt. Gonna have to ask Molly to help me mend it again. I swear lately everytime I fix up one hole on this thing, two more appears.”

Santiago leans down, grabbing the old garment from you. He runs the fabric between his fingers as he inspects it. Close up like this, he really takes a new appreciation for how old and worn this thing has become. There are soy sauce stains that haven’t quite come off during the wash. Fraying threads, the shoulder’s stretched and drooping. There’s clear evidence of your previous attempts to hold this tattered old thing together, patches of threadwork that are starting to wear in the seams along the arm.

It makes him sad to look at it. Even sadder to see you tending to the garment like it’s a wounded bleeding creature. Favorite or not, it’s a lost cause. It needs to go.

“You should throw the old thing out,” Santiago says. “Pretty sure you can just order something similar online.”

You take the sweatshirt back from him, hugging it close to your chest with an indignant huff and puff of your chest. “Yeah, thanks, no. I like this one.”

“Fine, I can ask one of my buddies still in the army to get you the same one.”

“It won’t be the same one, there is just the one,” you mutter as you cling onto the old rag.

Stubborn.

“It’s just a sweatshirt Boa, not even a very good one. I’m pretty sure with the money and effort you’ve wasted patching this old thing up you can get ten of these”.

Santiago looks at you, your fingers brushing against the grey material that’s grown lint all over and the same pang of sadness, of watching you hold onto something old and broken and past its usage hits him all over again. He doesn’t want to look at it.

It’s more than he can bear as he plasters on a grin, to make a joke and make it all go away.

“Stop holding onto old trash, or you’ll become a hoarder like your mom.”

Fuck.

That was definitely the wrong thing to say.

You walk out the room without so much as another word to him. All he gets is a scathing glare that’s cold enough to hit below the freezing point for water, and that’s how Santiago knows he’s in the dog house.

On contemplation, it was a shitty thing to say. He always forgets that you and him, for all your similarities are also very different. Santiago doesn’t hold onto sentimental belongings, the army ironed that out of him before he reached 18. People don’t get to keep personal belongings there period. Any sentimentality and individuality is scrubbed right out of you after basics, they make sure of that.

You, on the other hand, wrap yourself in nostalgia and memorabilia. Trinkets or any old and quirky knick-knacks that make you happy. Anyone who stepped into your home would barely make it three steps before they learned that about you. There are photos of your closest friends hung all over the hallway walls, bookshelves crammed full of photo albums, books, and souvenirs and novelty coffee mugs you’ve picked up from antique markets and gas stations from your road trips with Frankie. You hoard them like little treasures.

So telling you to throw away your husband’s sweatshirt that you practically wear every day, that you’ve had with you through thick and thin through the last ten years, and jokingly calling it trash was… probably not Santiago’s best moment.

It’s how he ends up doing the unthinkable.

Calling his sister.

It shouldn't be as scary as it is. Something as simple as asking his oldest sister if she had held onto his things after selling their mom’s house. It should in theory lead to a simple yes or no answer. It’s not exactly a loaded question.

Except it absolutely fucking is.

And this is Santiago’s second, not brightest moment of the day.

“I’ve always known you’re an idiot, but everytime I talk to you, I’m surprised by just how much of an idiot you can be.”

It’s just the kind of thing you want to hear from your family.

Santiago closes his eyes, teeth clamping down on the tip of his tongue for calm. This is how every conversation between the two of them goes. It's the curse of being the youngest and only son in a family of three sisters. Every question is treated like an accusation. Every sentence of his, a crime.

Santiago is pretty sure he can ask about something as harmless as the weather and still earn himself an earful from his sister, about how the weather has treated her more kindly than Santiago.

Calm, he needs to stay calm.

“Look, Martina, can we just– I was just asking a question. Do you have my boxes or not? There is no need for you to get on my ass like this. I’m only asking because when we sold mom’s house, you took most of the things–”

“I’m sorry, are you accusing me of stealing mom’s things?”

For a millisecond, Santiago's sure his heart stops beating. Blood in his veins freezing cold. Fuck him.

“No, no! That’s not what I was saying at all– I was just asking if you��”

There’s yelling. So much yelling through the earpiece of his phone. His only choice is to put down the receiver against the kitchen counter and wait it out unless he wants to get permanent tinnitus. Hunching across the kitchen counter, he rests his face against the palm of his hand, trying to rub out the tension that’s built between his temples. Getting out of bed today, might have been a mistake for Santiago cause it's proving to be a disaster from start to finish.

The kitchen porch door slides open letting in a draft that draws Santiago’s eyes up far enough to see Frankie enter the house.

The man takes one look at Santiago’s miserably hunched up form then eyes the screaming phone and shoots him a quizzing look.

“Martina,” Santiago offers. It’s the only word of explanation he gives Frankie, but it doesn’t seem like Frankie needs anything else to know what’s going on.

He simply nods, with a sympathetic expression. “She called just to yell at you?”

Santiago eyes the phone where it’s at the counter, it shouldn’t be picking up his and Frankie’s conversation, face down as it is, but he’s not taking risks. He flips the phone face up and mutes it, before continuing.

“No, I called her. Wanted to ask her if she still had my old stuff from mom’s attic.”

In the background Santiago can still hear his sister’s voice shouting and screaming even from a distance. There’s a creative stream of expletives blended seamlessly in English and Spanish until it’s baked into one well-cooked, fuck-you-Santiago-sandwich.

“Pope”, Frankie calls out, pulling Santiago’s attention back to him. “Your boxes are upstairs.”

“What do you mean?”

“Boa took the boxes when your sisters sold the house.”

“She did? Why?”

Frankie hums, one hand sliding over to his forehead to pull off his cap as he cocks his head to look at Santiago like he’s an idiot, before shaking his head at him.

Geez, everyone has it out for him today it seems.

“Your sister was threatening to take them out into her backyard and use them as kindle for a bonfire party. So Boa had me drive over. Thought we should hold onto it because you might still want your stuff someday. Guess she was right.”

Santiago ignores the stab of guilt in his chest, doesn't want to look at it right now. Instead, he picks his phone back up, unmuting it with a quick, “Martina I have to go,” as he presses the end button not a second too soon.

The attic is musty and hot, the smell of sawdust and plain dust hanging in the air. There’s a few humane mouse traps strategically placed in all corners of the space. Not that it seems to be doing any good (the humane ones rarely are, but neither you or Frankie would ever consider changing them for the other option). There’s mouse droppings scattered here and there.

Frankie walks ahead to the middle of the room, pulling a large moth-eaten sheet that reveals a mountain of boxes, with your handwriting scribbled on top marked with his name and descriptors like ‘clothes’, ‘LPs’, ‘school memories’, ‘books’ and finally ‘army stuff.’

There's a strange feeling brewing in his chest that he can't quite define at seeing all his old belongings stored up in yours and Frankie (and now, his) home. Boxes upon boxes, piled up together, the way they used to be in his mom's old place.

A quiet little voice in him that tells him, guess this is home now, and is completely at peace with it-- and Santiago is willfully ignoring the agitation in him at just how at ease he is with it, as he walks towards the boxes.

“This the one?,” Frankie asks as he taps the side of the one box marked 'army stuff', and as he does, a shimmer of dust rises and swirls in the air, leaving his hand coated in a sheen of white-grey soot.

At Santiago’s nod, Frankie drags the box out from the cluster and places it on the middle of the floor. “You wanna do this here or take it downstairs?”

It is one of the smaller boxes, barely spanning the breadth of Frankie's chest. For as much time as the army has been a domineering presence in his life, Santiago always imagined that the physical space it would leave behind would be much bigger than this small box. Even more surprised by how few things eleven years left behind.

“Here is fine.”

Frankie cuts the old tape open with a boxcutter knife, and unfolds the flap, as they both peek into it. There’s an old tin box. Medals that are kept in pristine condition in a glass case. His old service uniform, and other trinkets rattling around in the old cardbox. What is not here, however, is his old army sweatshirt.

“So is what you're looking for in here?” Frankie asks, as he picks up the small tin box and gently shakes it to his ear. Even without opening it Santiago can recognize the sound of the metal chain of his dog tag jingling inside.

"Nothing special," Santiago says, evading the question because he doesn't want to explain how he managed to upset you with his careless comments. Instead, he takes the box from Frankie and opens it.

There’s an old polaroid photo in the metal tin. It’s a bit weathered around the corners, the colors so faded that the blue skies and yellow sand have blended into a muted sepia glaze.

It's a photo of them at the beach, Frankie sitting in the sand, wearing only swim trunks and sunglasses, squinting like the sun is plaguing his eyes, and a grin spreads wide on Santiago's face.

"Holy crap."

From behind him, Frankie leans over, resting his jaw on Santiago's shoulder so he can take a peek at the photo too. "That's a blast from the past. How long ago was that now?"

"Summer before Redfly retired, so that must've been what? seven, eight years ago?" Santiago muses, still smiling at the photo as the memory of the warm heat of the Tunisian sun was blistering at his back, the relieving breeze from the ocean against his forehead like he's being transported right back into the moment and place.

“Remember when Benny nearly broke his leg jumping off the rocks to dive in and Will had to come get him.”

Frankie laughs, "thought Redfly was going to kill them both."

“I can’t even remember holding onto this one," Santiago says, as his fingers rub at the corner of the faded photo, unable to tamper down the smile tugging at his lips as he thinks of the memories. "We should frame this one and put it up with the other polaroids downstairs."

Frankie looks at him, still smiling, but there's a shift in his eyes into something warm and almost glowing.

“It was a good day,” Frankie says, looking down at the photo with a smile on his face that makes Santiago's veins buzz pleasantly.

"Can’t believe you and Boa didn’t just throw all this junk away," Santiago says, more to himself than even Frankie.

Frankie merely shrugs, as his hand reaches over and dips into the box, holding up Santiago's old dog tag and inspects it. “She's a sentimental person. She likes to hold onto things that reminds her of the people she cares about. Makes them feel like they're here even when they're not, she says."

It's a fraction of a millisecond. So brief, Santiago can't even make out fully what the flash of an image he's seeing is. A blurry form trying to rise up to the surface, that he pushes down. Brown eyes, a sharp nose, the same thick hair Santiago's supposedly inherited.

Santiago snaps the tin box in his hand shut. “Whether you hold onto things or not, they're still gone,” Santiago says.

Frankie looks away from the dog tag, eyes scrutinizing Santiago's face with something akin to concern, before he shakes his head and lets out a small chuckle. It's the quiet little laugh he has for Santiago, when Frankie sees something going on in him that Santiago can't himself. The one that tells Santiago, he needs a little bit more time to catch up before he sees it. It used to upset him, a strike to his stubborn pride. Nowadays, he's just made peace with the fact that this is a feeling he's going to constantly encounter when he is living with two people who know him better than he knows himself.

Frankie hums, taking the box from Santiago and carefully folding Santiago's dog tags back into the tin box.

Santiago looks around himself, eyeing the boxes. "My junk must take up what? At least one third of this space. Wouldn't have blamed her if she had just let Martina torch it up."

"I don’t know. I think part of her kept onto it hoping this day would come. You living here, with us.” He gets to his feet, observing the attic and casts one last look into the open box. “What are you looking for anyway?”

“Nothing important. Just uhm–" Santiago hesitates again. He doesn't know why he's being so coy about this, so he fesses up. "My old army sweatshirt. It’s stupid. We had a–" Santiago stops himself, it's not a fight, a tiff at best. But he feels silly as a grown man to call it that. He shakes his head.

"I said something stupid to her this morning, and I wanted to make it up to her. Thought I was going to dig up my old sweatshirt as a peace offering.”

Frankie's eyes squint, head cocking to the side as he regards Santiago with a puzzled look on his face. “Well Boa’s already wearing it isn’t she?”

For a moment, Santiago must've heard him wrong. When would you have had time to get up in the attic, unbox his things, grab his sweatshirt, put it on, and for Frankie to have seen you wear it?

“What do you mean?”

From across, Frankie's folding his arm, back leaning against one of the beams that go from floor to ceiling in the attic. He's giving Santiago that look. The one that tells Santiago that at this moment Frankie wonders if he really used to work in intelligence.

“She’s always wearing it. It's her favorite. Think I saw her with it this morning in the kitchen trying to patch up the latest hole.”

"It's your sweatshirt, Frankie."

"No, I threw mine out after the first year. The material is itchy as hell, gave me rashes all over... Everything okay, Santiago?"

You're standing by the washing machine, putting in another load of laundry, wearing his (not Frankie's) grey army sweatshirt. A warm surge rises in his chest, it spreads along his arms and legs until his fingers go numb with it.

He gets it now. Why he couldn't stand to look at the sweatshirt then. Why it bothered him so much. The way you looked at it, with the same expression in your eyes that you had every time you saw him off at the airport.

Idiot, he's a fucking idiot.

He strides over the length of the floor separating you. You turn when he's not even halfway there yet, his hands already outstretched, reaching for you. One hand cupping the back of your neck, pulling you close to him, the rest of the way, his other settling on the dip of your hip as he drags you closer still.

There's a hitch of a breath. A surprised and muffled attempt at saying his name that gets cut off. His head tilts down, claiming your lips with his, pouring everything he has to say, with a grace that his words can never achieve.

I love you, it says as he slips his tongue into your parted mouth and licks into you.

I'm here now, he promises, thumb caressing the dimple of your cheek.

You're everything to me.

The tension in your shoulder thaws, the rigidness in your back softens until you're humming on his tongue. You melt for him.

You part, and Santiago rests his forehead on yours as he lets you catch your breath, taking a moment to remember, etching the image of your half-lidded eyes and a blissed-out smile into his memory. No photograph or memorabilia could ever do this justice. Not when he gets to have the real thing every day.

"You don't need the sweatshirt," he says.

The warm shade in your eyes cools, specks of annoyance bleeding into them.

"Santiago" His name is a low simmering growl in your throat. The start of a warning that you do not want to have this discussion--and if Santiago keeps pushing it could very well escalate into an argument.

"You don't need it," he continues, eyes fixed on yours, hand gripping just the tiniest bit harder around you, "because I'm not going anywhere anymore."

You freeze on the spot. Eyes blinking, and Santiago can see how you've stopped breathing entirely.

"Santiago," you start, and he pauses, giving you the time for once to find what it is you want to say. But your mouth press close again, a slight trembling of your lower lip, then you look down at your feet without another word.

His heart breaks for you. You're always so put together that sometimes he forgets. You need assurances too.

He's never said anything.

Never made promises.

It's been a year and a half since he stayed, a part of him just assumed (the way he always does) that it'd be clear by now. That you, who know him better than anyone, would know that he's here to stay now.

It's unfair to you that he just assumes.

His hand comes to your chin, tilting you up to his eyes. "You don't need that sweatshirt to remind you of me," Santiago says.

You nod. But he can see it, the way the glossiness of your eyes shimmers in the light from the wet sheen there. Tears threatening to spill, and the same sadness he felt this morning, creeps up at him, clawing at his chest.

"I'm here. I'm not going away again. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."

A sole tear escapes down your cheek, leaving a wet trail behind and his thumb comes up to brush it away. He's expecting the all familiar self-loathing at making you cry to settle in his spine, but it never comes, never has the chance to, because you choke back a smile, sweet and relieved. The back of your hand wipes away the rest of your tears, the grey matted sleeve, scratching against your soft skin.

He swears to God, if that thing makes you break out in hives.

Dipping down again, he presses his lips to your forehead.

"It's a shitty sweatshirt Boa, it's going to give you rashes, and I'm pretty sure it has asbestos in the threads," he jokes.

This time, instead of storming away, a peal of quiet laughter escapes your lips, and that makes him smile even wider. "But if you still want to hang onto it, next time it goes to pieces, I'll mend it for you. I'll fix it. Everytime it breaks okay?"

You nod against his head, and he just holds you, arms wrapped around you tight like a cocoon, unwilling to let this moment slip away.

"I have other sweatshirts too, you know," he murmurs into your hairline. "Better ones. Sweaters too. Better than Frankie's ugly grandma sweaters ones anyhow."

You laugh again, and a rush of happiness bubbles up his spine as he hears the small contented sigh on your lips that makes him know things are going to be okay before the word leaves your mouth.

"Okay," you murmur. "You fix the sweatshirt and I’ll wear some of your other stuff"

“Deal.”

Dedication and Credits:

@frannyzooey who has been so encouraging and opened a whole new world to me when she decided to harass me with her asks and it's led me to have so much fun with opening up my inbox to requests and prompts for the first time in my life and it's made writing so freeing. I love you and adore you! You are everything. I'm so sorry I butchered your beautiful ask about finding an old smexy photo of Frankie amongst Santiago's army stuff into this abomination. THERE IS NOT EVEN ANY SEX IN HERE.

@thirstworldproblemss the other person that had me going ohfuckingyes I can't wait for her to read this! She is the fuel to my motor, the electricity to my batteries. She is everything you could ever ask for in a friend and so much more.

#santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia x reader #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier #homecoming #cici writes #oscar isaac #pedro pascal

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