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lefteagleblizzard · 2 days

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𝕱𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖉𝖚𝖘𝖐 𝖙𝖔 𝖉𝖆𝖜𝖓

mike schmidt x gender neutral reader

Summary: A one shot that narrates many different things that happens during a long day between Mike and reader.

Warnings: gender neutral reader. No pronouns used towards reader. Angst. Fluff. allusion to smut. No actual smut. Flirting. Established relationship. Panic attack. Happy ending.

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

Sorry for bad grammar. Sorry if it's cringe. Enjoy :)

The sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Mike stirred, his eyelids fluttering open. Beside him, you laid still, chest rising and falling rhythmically. You were tangled in each other's arms, cocooned in the soft warmth of your shared bed.

Mike blinked away the last remnants of sleep, his gaze landing on your peaceful face. Your hair was tousled, and a faint smile curved your lips. He couldn't help but smile back. The both of you had been through so much together—late-night conversations, laughter, tears, and stolen kisses—and yet, every morning felt like a new beginning.

He shifted closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You stirred, your eyes fluttering open. The first thing you saw was Mike, and your smile widened. "Good morning, did you sleep?" you whispered, your voice still thick with sleep.

The nightmares had plagued him ever since the kidnapping of his little brother. The faceless abductor, Garret's terrified eyes, the guilt—it all came rushing back in the dead of night. He'd wake up drenched in sweat, unable to breathe, feeling like he was failing his brother all over again.

You stayed up with him during the nights when the nightmares were too much. You helped him when he woke up screaming, tears streaming down his face.

"Morning," Mike replied, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "Did you sleep well?"

You stretched, your limbs intertwining with his. "Like a baby," you said. "Your presence is my best lullaby."

He chuckled, tracing lazy circles on your back. "I could say the same about you." The room was filled with the soft rustle of sheets as you shifted, getting comfortable. Outside, birds chirped, and the distant hum of traffic reminded you two that the world was waking up too.

You propped yourself up on one elbow, your eyes curious. "What time is it?"

Mike glanced at the clock on the bedside table. "Early," he said. "But who needs time when we have this moment?"

You laughed, leaning down to kiss him. Your lips were warm and inviting, and Mike lost himself in your taste. You kissed slowly, savoring each other, as if you had all the time in the world.

And you really wished you did.

When you finally pulled away, you rested your head on his chest. "I love mornings like this," you murmured. "Just us, no rush, no worries."

Last night he didn’t have to work at the pizzeria and you grasped the opportunity to make up for lost time.

Mike mumbled something incoherent that you almost certainly assumed was a sign of him agreeing with you.

It was your little bubble, where everything else fades away.

You lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, while you shared stories about the fragments of a dream you had tonight and was lucky enough to remember.

"What's on your agenda?" Mike asked.

You tilted your head, pretending to think. "Hmm, let's see. Waking up Abby, breakfast , followed by cuddles, and then maybe pretending to be sick so I don’t have to leave for work."

"Sounds perfect," Mike said. "But what if I add a twist?"

Your eyes sparkled. "What kind of twist?"

He gently rolled you onto your back, hovering slightly above you, his beloved. "Tonight, I had a wonderful dream that I so dearly wish to recreate."

Your smile turned into a subtle smirk, despite the fatigue that gripped you from waking up just minutes ago. You raised an eyebrow, curious. "A dream? Odd, it felt so vivid to me."

"Yes, it was so splendid it seemed impossible to be real."

You laughed, pulling him down for another kiss. Your lips met, hungry and passionate, as if you were making up for all the kisses you hadn't shared during the night while you held each other as if there was no other person in the world.

༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞

You sit at the kitchen table, cradling a warm mug of coffee in your hands. The sun spills through the window, casting a gentle glow on the checkered tablecloth. Across from you, Mike sips his own coffee, his eyes still heavy with sleep. It’s one of those quiet, comfortable moments—the kind that make mornings bearable.

Abby, Mike’s adorable sister, perched on a stool, her pigtails bouncing as she swung her legs.

“You slept well?” You asked while taking a small sip from your cup, tilting your head to the side when you saw the expression on her face.

Abby squinted her eyes, her little forehead wrinkling in concentration. “You know what?” she said, her voice serious. “Your bed creaks a lot at night.”

Mike choked on his coffee, and your coffee goes down the wrong pipe, and you cough, sputtering. You and Mike exchanged wide-eyed glances, both of your faces turning various shades of crimson. The previous night’s activities had indeed been...energetic.

“Uh, Abby,” Mike stammered, “it’s just an old bed. You know, wood settling and all that.”

Abby shook her head, her eyes wide with innocence. “But I sometimes hear it and other times no! You think that a new bed for you two will work?”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a laugh.

Mike leaned closer to you, whispering, “We’re in trouble, aren’t we?”

You grinned. “Big trouble. The mattress we have is too comfortable to loose”

“Abby,” Mike said, leaning toward her, “you’re right. We’ve been having epic pillow fights at night.”

“Pillow fights?” Abby’s eyes sparkled. “Really?” She asked towards you.

“Oh, ehm... yeah” you stammered before recovering. “Mike snores too loudly and I use a pillow to stop him”

Abby claps her hands, her laughter bubbling forth like a mountain spring. Your heart swells; this is parenthood at its finest— the shared conspiracies towards the same member of the family.

Mike glares at you, but his lips twitch. He’s caught between irritation and affection.

Abby gets out of her chair and starts jumping out of excitement. “Can I join your pillow fight club?”

“Of course!” You said. “But only if you promise not to tell anyone about our secret pillow fights.”

Abby put her tiny hand over her heart. “Cross my heart! But seriously, you should get a new mattress.”

You and Mike burst into laughter, your embarrassment now completely forgotten. Abby’s innocence was a balm for your souls.

As you all finished breakfast, Abby skipped off to draw, leaving the two of you alone.

You leaned across the table, your fingers brushing.

“You know,” you whispered, “maybe tomorrow we could check the bed’ slats. The noises might come from them”

Mike grinned. “Isn’t it romantic to you? Our bed serenading us through the night.

You cheeks tainted in red. “Mike, focus! We need a solution. How about we flip the mattress? Maybe it’s just grumpy from being on the same side for years.”

“Fine, let’s flip the mattress. And while we’re at it, we can tighten the screws. But then we’ll have to test to make sure it doesn’t make any more noises” Mike said while nuzzling your neck.

“Deal,” you giggled from the tickled caused by his stubble.

༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞

The sun, in the late afternoon, casts its golden rays through the window of the house. The rooms are bathed in a warm, honey-colored glow. Dust particles float lazily in the air, illuminated by the sunbeams. The light dances across the floor, creating elongated rectangles that stretch from the window to the opposite wall.

A shame you were not capable of enjoying the beautiful display as you embarked on a quest to find your elusive phone. You tiptoed into the room you shared with Mike, who was busy lifting weights from his bench press. Sweat glistened on his forehead as he strained against the iron. He was a security guard after all, he should at least maintain himself in form, even if no one would probably enter that creepy and abandoned place he works at.

Your eyes scanned the room, but the phone remained elusive.

“Hey, Mike,” You called out, feigning innocence. “Have you seen my phone? It’s playing hide-and-seek.”

Mike paused mid-lift, wiping his brow. His eyes narrowed playfully. “Your phone? Nah, it’s probably hiding from you, considering how much you use it”

“You know, Mike,” You said, “you’re not exactly intimidating when you’re always this tired.”

Mike chuckled, sweat dripping down his forehead. “Yeah, well,” he panted, “I’m going for the ‘approachable’ vibe.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Approachable? More like ‘about-to-collapse’.”

Mike set the barbell back on the rack and wiped his face with a towel. “You think I’m weak?”

You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

You groaned in annoyance as you kept searching for your phone in the room. You needed to answer to some important stuff for work.

Maybe it fell down from your wardrobe? You turned around and bent down on your knees, looking under the creaky bed and finally spotting your phone under it.

A sigh of relief left your lips. Your arm stretched out under the bed, fingers grazing the cool wooden floorboards. Your phone lay just out of reach, teasing you with its silent screen.

“Come on,” You muttered, wiggling your fingers. “Just a little more.”

But just as your fingertips brushed the edge of the phone a pair of arms was wrapped around your waist, and lifted you off the ground.

You yelped in surprise, legs kicking in the air as Mike scooped you up in his arms, bridal style “Mike! What the—”

Your heart races, and for a moment, you forget to breathe. The warmth from his body envelops you, his scent—part musk, part fresh air—fills the room and you cling to him instinctively as you wrap your arms around Mike’s neck.

Your fingers find their way to the back of his neck, where you feel the tension in his muscles. The room spins around you, and you laugh— a genuine, unguarded sound— as he carries you toward the window.

“See?” Mike grunted, pretending not to strain. “Not weak at all.”

His strength surprised you; he might look fatigued, but those biceps were no joke.

"Mike" you protest playfully, "what are you doing?"

He grins down at you, his eyes sparkling. "Taking you to see the sunset," he says, his voice low and intimate.

The warmth of his skin seeps through your shirt as he steps closer to the window, the fading sunlight bathes you both. Despite being so simple, the garden outside looks beautiful under the sunlight.

"Look," he murmurs, tilting your chin upward. The sun kisses the horizon, casting a golden glow on your faces. "Isn't it beautiful?"

You nod, unable to tear your eyes away from the view. But it's not just the sunset that steals your breath—it's the way Mike looks at you, as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. The warmth of his love surrounds you, and you know that this memory will stay with you forever.

And in that moment you forget about everything except the warmth of Mike’s arms and the love in his eyes. Bridal style or not, your exactly where you want to be—held close, suspended in love, and ready to face the sunset together.

Abby had heard the laughter from the hallway. She burst into the room, eyes wide with curiosity. “What’s going on here?”

Mike grinned, showing you like a trophy obtained with so much hard work and explaining to her how you told him he is weak.

With you still in his arms, Mike walked closer to the bed from where you previously were. His legs trembled slightly, but he held on. You giggled, and Abby skipped alongside you two, cheering like you all were in a parade.

“Mike,” Abby said, eyes wide, “can you lift me too?”

Mike chuckled. “Give me a second”

Mike gently sets you down. You both caught your breath, laughing and feeling the warmth of shared moments.

Abby joined in and you watched with a grin as Mike lifted her up from the floor, making her laugh joyfully.

༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞

The moon hung low in the sky, casting elongated shadows across the plain and simple field. The abandoned playground stood like a relic from another time—a place where laughter once echoed, but now only silence prevailed.

Mike patrolled the rusted arcade games and cracked tables, his flashlight cutting through the darkness. His duty was to protect this forgotten place, even though he couldn't shake the feeling that something watched him from the shadows.

You had always been intrigued by the mysterious playground. You’ve heard stories—the kind whispered around campfires—about children who vanished here, leaving behind only their laughter and half-buried memories.

Tonight, unable to sleep, you decided to pay Mike a surprise visit. Abby was tucked safely in bed.

You park your car in the gravel lot, the crunch under your tires sounding unusually loud in the still night. The air is cool, tinged with the scent of rain that hasn't yet fallen. Ahead, the silhouette of the abandoned pizzeria looms, its windows dark.

Navigating through the shadows, you feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. Mike's job as a security guard here always seemed eerie to you, surrounded by empty halls and the echoes of machinery long silenced. But tonight, you're here to bring a little warmth to his solitary shift.

You enter the building, your footsteps echoing off the concrete. The stairwell is dimly lit, the walls tagged with graffiti.

Your footsteps crunched on the gravel path as you approached the main hall. The moonlight revealed twisted shapes—a carousel frozen mid-spin. Those animatronics behind the tents looked anything but friendly. The air smelled of damp earth and nostalgia, and you shivered despite the mild night.

Just as you stepped onto the cracked pavement, a beam of light swept across your path. Mike emerged from the shadows, his security uniform slightly disheveled and his eyes widened in surprise. His flashlight illuminated your face, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, despite the visible tiredness on his face

"What brings you here?" Mike said. His voice was a low murmur, gravelly and worn. Each syllable seemed to emerge from the depths of exhaustion, like a shipwreck survivor gasping for air.

You feigned innocence. "Oh, you know, just thought I'd drop by. Abby's asleep, Max is watching her and I couldn't resist exploring this creepy place."

Mike chuckled, a sound that rumbled from deep within his chest. "Exploring, huh? You're brave, but this is a private property, you should not be here”

You stepped closer, your breath mingling in the chilly air. "And what are you gonna do about it, Mr. Security Guard? Are you gonna call the police for an harmless intruder?"

“I'm willing to make an exception for you. Harmless you said? let’s see those hands. Empty pockets, please.”

You show him your empty hands “Clean as a whistle. Are you going to frisk me?”

Mike leans in, his voice low “I might have to. Strictly professional, of course. Turn around, hands against the wall."

Your heart started pounding while you played along, that deep voice that he made with a hint of tiredness was hot

You turned, placing your palms flat against the cool brick wall. Mike steps behind you, his breath warm against your neck.

"Spread your legs a little wider. We wouldn't want anything slipping past my expert frisking skills." He said, voice still low.

You stifled a nervous giggle, your pulse racing. Mike's hands move—firm, yet gentle—up your sides, skimming the edges of your coat.

"I assure you, I'm clean. No hidden weapons, no secret plans." Your voice was now trembling.

You can feel Mike leaning in closer, lips brushing your ear "Good. But I have to be thorough. Safety first, you know."

His hands continue their exploration, tracing the curve of your hips, then sliding down to your thighs. Your skin tingles, and you wonder if Mike can hear your heart pounding.

"Thorough is...appreciated." Your voice is barely audible now.

Mike’s fingers dip into your coat pockets, checking for imaginary things. His touch sends shivers down your spine.

"All clear. But there's one more area I need to inspect." He whispered

He steps closer, pressing against you, and your breath hitches. His lips brush your cheek, teasing.

"Your heart. It's racing. Is that normal during a routine frisk?" He whispered in a husky voice.

Before you can respond, Mike turns you around, his eyes searching yours. The playful game fades, replaced by something more intense.

"You're trouble. But I think I like it." His hand slid down to the flashlight's switch, turning it off. Darkness enveloped you two.

And then, his lips meet yours. The kiss was both sweet and urgent. A kiss that tastes of adventure, stolen moments, and the promise of something beyond a simple game.

༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞

Pushing the door open, Mike shows you the office he mainly works in, the bank of security monitors bright inside the dark room.

His tired face lights up with a smile as he sees you taking a seat to the chair next to his.

You spend the next hour talking, catching up, sharing a late snack you brought from home. Mike tries to focus on your stories, but his eyes begin to close, his head tilted forward slowly until he struggles to stay shiny and awake.

You suggest he get some rest. "I've got this," you assure him, motioning towards the monitors. "You need more sleep than I do."

Reluctantly, he agrees. He settles into a small cot in the corner of the room, his body visibly tense. "Just wake me if anything happens," he murmurs, his voice already slurring with exhaustion.

You nod, watching as he drifts off, the lines of his face softening. Quietly, you move to his chair, keeping an eye on the screens. The silence, the cameras showing nothing but abandoned spaces and those animatronics behind the tents.

It was normal for Mike to be so sleepy if every night here always plays out the same.

You could have sworn that the giant animatronic bear had moved its eyes towards the camera, but as soon as you blinked, he was no longer watching it.

Tiredness was having an effect on you too

An hour passes slowly. You jump slightly when Mike suddenly gasps, his breath ragged, his eyes wide and filled with the terror of the nightmare that's haunted him for years. Rushing to his side, you find him panting,

"It's okay, Mike, you're safe," you say softly, taking his hand. His grip is tight, almost painful.

"Garret... I saw Garret..." he chokes out, his voice ragged with fear and grief. You remember all too well the stories he's told you about his little brother, Garret, who was kidnapped years ago. It's a wound that never fully healed, one that haunts him in these vivid nightmares.

"Ssh, I'm here, Mike. You're not alone," you reassure him, stroking his hair as his breathing slowly calms. You've been through this many times over the years, yet each time feels just as heart-wrenching.

"I always think I could've saved him... If only I hadn’t been distracted," Mike confesses with tears streaming down his face.

“You did everything you could”, you remind him gently. “It’s not your fault”

"It's okay, it's okay, you're safe," you murmur, pulling him into your arms. His heart races against your chest as you hold him tightly, feeling his muscles tense with every shudder. These moments are heart-wrenching, yet after all these years, you know exactly what to do.

Mike clings to you, his breathing erratic, his grip tightens around you as if holding on for dear life.

"Focus on my voice, Mike," you continue, your tone steady and soothing. "Breathe with me. In... and out... In... and out." You guide him through the breathing exercises you've learned together, a routine that has become second nature on nights like these.

Gradually, his breaths become less shallow, the trembling subsides, and the grip of his fingers loosens around your arm. His face, buried in the crook of your neck, feels wet against your skin-tears, not uncommon on these long nights.

"You're doing great," you reassure him, brushing a hand through his hair, offering the comfort that words alone cannot. This touch, a simple gesture, often helps to anchor him back to the present, away from the nightmares.

Thank you," he says, his voice hoarse but sincere. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You don't have to do anything without me," you reply, a small, tired smile crossing your lips. "I'm here, always."

He rests his head on your chest, listening to the steady beat of your heart-a sound that seems to comfort him as much as your presence. You stay awake a little longer, ensuring he drifts back into a more peaceful sleep, watching over him in the quiet of the night.

As you finally feel his body yield to exhaustion and the steady rhythm of his breathing indicates he's asleep, you allow yourself a moment of rest. Love, you remind yourself, is both a refuge and a strength, in the quiet of the night and beyond

༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞༞

It was now morning. Soon it will be time to go back to Abby. Mike leaned against you, your fingers intertwined. "I don't know if I'll ever fully heal," he admitted. "But you make it bearable."

You pressed a kiss to his temple. "We'll take it one step at a time. Healing isn't linear, Mike. Some days will be harder than others, but we'll get through them together."

And so you did. Mike still woke up from nightmares, but you were there to help him, to remind him that he wasn't defined by his past.

As the days turned into weeks, Mike found himself laughing more, sleeping a little better. The shadows of the past didn't disappear, but they no longer consumed him. Your love was a lifeline, pulling him back from the abyss.

One night, as you lay tangled in each other's arms, Mike whispered, "Thank you."

"For what?" you asked.

"For being my light," he replied. "For helping me find my way out of the darkness."

And you smiled, your eyes filled with tenderness. "Always, Mike. Always."

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 4 months

Note

felix and his gf being at saltburn and felix noticed ollie acting weird towards her and gets upset at him!!!!!!

The eyes, Chico. || Felix Catton x reader

A/n: YAY TY FOR THE REQUEST! PLS SEND THRU MORE

Warnings: fem!reader, Oliver being a creep, swearing, smoking, if there’s anything else lmk!

Wc: 826

Felix Catton Masterlist

Feeling Felix’s thumb rub circles on your back, you flutter your eyes open and are met with his smile. "Mornin', baby," he greets you, and you respond with a lazy smile, relishing the comforting embrace of his body. His chuckle resonates through his chest, a gentle vibration against you. "It's too early, Felix," you murmur softly, wanting to fall back into slumber.

"Breakfast starts soon, aren't you hungry?" Felix questions, a playful tone lacing his words. You shake your head. "Yes, you are. Don't lie. I can hear your stomach," he asserts with a laugh, and you can't help but crack a smile in response. "Fine," you concede.

You and Felix make your way to the kitchen, where the aroma of breakfast awaits. You greet everyone good morning, almost forgetting that Oliver is here at Saltburn too.

You don’t understand why Felix invited him over; they barely know each other. Even when you confront your boyfriend about it, he just says that he feels bad for him, that he's going through some things at home.

Honestly, he's sort of a strange guy. You always catch him looking away from you when you look at him, around school, his eyes widen the slightest when he sees you walking down the corridors, and then he focuses his gaze on the ground. One time, he even bumped into a pole because he wasn't looking where he was going.

But today, he seems even more odd. The unease is palpable as you sit down at the table. The morning sun streams through the windows, casting a warm glow on the scene.

As you and Felix engage in light morning banter, you catch Oliver staring at you. His gaze is intense, lingering longer than is comfortable. At first, you dismiss it, thinking maybe he's just lost in thought. However, the oddity of his behavior becomes more apparent as the meal progresses.

Oliver’s eyes follow your every move, and you feel an unsettling awareness of his gaze on you. It’s as if his attention is fixated solely on you. You exchange a glance with Felix, who seems oblivious to Oliver’s strange behavior at first.

You try to focus on your plate, on the conversation with Felix, but the weight of Oliver’s gaze is distracting. It’s not the kind of attention you want or need, especially coming from a guy who's already odd enough.

You try to enjoy breakfast, but the uneasy feeling persists. Oliver’s eyes seem to follow you, and you sense a strange tension in the air. However, as the minutes pass, even Felix begins to sense the unease in the air.

“You alright, Ollie?” Felix's timely interjection is a relief. Oliver shifts his focus from you to Felix and responds with a casual, "Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm good." A smile graces his face as he savors a spoonful of breakfast as your eyes flicker between the two, watching the interaction. You can't help but wonder if Venetia or Farleigh picked up on the awkward tension in the air.

As breakfast concludes, you can’t shake off the lingering discomfort. “Remind me why you brought Oliver to Saltburn again?” You question your boyfriend beside you as you continue your skincare routine.

Felix, sensing the need for discretion, swiftly moves to the door leading to Oliver's room. "Shh, don't be so loud," he cautions in a hushed tone, closing the door behind him with a sense of urgency.

"Darling, I know he's been acting weird—" Felix begins, coming up behind you, but you swiftly cut him off. "Oh, he's been acting more than weird. I could barely focus at breakfast with his eyes on me," you huff, applying sunscreen to your face, preparing for a day out in the sun by the lake. The tension in the air is palpable as you address the unease surrounding Oliver's peculiar behavior.

"I know, I know. He just has a... tendency to stare. He's probably admiring how gorgeous you are. Aren't you used to the stares?" He bends down to kiss your cheek, and you roll your eyes in response.

"He should know it's rude to stare," you say in a sing-song voice as you pack up your skincare products. "Don't mind him," Felix adds, his large hands wrapping around your bare stomach, giving your hips a slight squeeze.

The hot temperature outside and the high UV ray lead you, Venetia, Farleigh, Felix, and Oliver outside to lounge by the lake. As you settle on the blanket, the odd tension with Oliver becomes more pronounced. He positions himself nearby, and you catch him stealing glances at you.

It’s not the casual glances friends share; they're lingering, intense stares that make you uneasy. You exchange puzzled glances with Venetia, both of you trying to make sense of Oliver’s peculiar behavior.

“That Oliver has a staring problem, doesn’t he?” Venetia comments, readjusting her sunglasses that sit on her nose. “You saw the stares this morning right?” You turn your head towards her as she does the same. “I think everyone could sense the awkwardness between you two.”

You sigh, closing your eyes and turning your head back. “He’s so strange. I still can’t wrap my head around why Felix invited him here.” You try to focus on the conversation with Venetia, hoping to ignore Oliver’s odd glances. However, his behavior persists.

As you and Venetia engage in conversation by the lounge chairs, Oliver’s attention seems solely fixed on you. It’s as if he’s not present in the moment, lost in his own thoughts. The picturesque surroundings lose their charm as the atmosphere becomes charged with an unspoken tension.

“Is he looking,” You say lowly to Venetia, who discreetly looks behind you before humming. “Fucks sake,” You groan, turning your head only to find his eyes looking at his hands. Rolling your eyes, you gravitate your gaze to Felix right beside you.

Felix, sensing the unease, stands up to move his chair closer to yours, a protective gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed, especially when he places his large hand on your thigh. You appreciate his presence, but the situation with Oliver casts a shadow over what should have been a carefree day by the lake.

The discomfort peaks when you decide to take a break and lie down on the blanket, soaking up the sun’s warmth. Venetia joins you, and you both close your eyes, attempting to find solace in the peaceful surroundings.

However, Oliver’s peculiar behavior doesn’t wane. As you lie there, eyes closed, you sense his eyes on you, a prickling awareness that mars the tranquility of the moment. You open your eyes to find Oliver glancing at you again, a furtive gaze that makes you uneasy.

Venetia, too, notices the strange dynamic and shoots you a concerned look. You spot Farleigh and Felix in deep conversation, Farleigh glancing at Oliver from time to time before giving you a look, silently communicating the shared discomfort.

“Fuck this, I’m going to take a bath,” You mutter annoyed as everyone watches you get up from your towel. Perching your sunglasses on your head, you walk over to Felix. “I’m going to take a bath,” You lean down to kiss him as he hums.

“I’ll come join you in a sec,” He says, his hands toying with the strings on your bikini bottoms. With a brief exchange of nods, you make your way back to Saltburn and to Felix’s bathroom, which connected to Oliver’s room.

The cold water is already calling your name, promising respite from the tension that clings to the air. Closing the door behind you, you take a deep breath, hoping the solitude of the bath will provide the sanctuary you need.

Little do you know that the shadows of unease follow you into the bathroom. As you start to run the water, the events of the morning replay in your mind. The odd glances, the tension at breakfast—all of it weaves into a disconcerting tapestry.

Stripping off your bikini-clad body, you let out a moan of relief when your warm body makes contact with the cold water. Lighting up a cigarette, another sigh of relief escapes you.

Unbeknownst to you, Felix decides to retrieve something from Oliver’s room. As he opens the door, the scene before him freezes him in his tracks. Oliver, standing too close, is peering through the crack of the bathroom door, watching you in the bath.

Felix’s initial surprise gives way to a flash of anger. “What the fuck, Ollie?” he exclaims, his voice cutting through the silence. Your heart skips a beat as you hear the commotion outside. You hear Felix yelling as you quickly get out the tub, wrapping a robe around your naked body before emerging from the bathroom.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He screams as Oliver stammers, caught red-handed, unable to form a coherent response. You move beside Felix, rubbing your hand up and down his arm, trying to ease him down.

“You can’t just invade someone’s privacy like that,” Felix continues, his tone sharp. “What were you thinking, watching through the door like some creep?” His eyes were blown out, his face red as Oliver just stood there distressed.

“That’s so fucked up, Oliver.” You say quietly, though your tone and glare were ice cold. Oliver, looking sheepish and guilty, attempts to explain himself. “I-I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry.”

Felix’s frustration deepens, and he points out, “Sorry is going to cut it, mate. What’s been going on with you? The staring, the weird glances—it’s not normal, man. We’re supposed to be friends. She’s my girlfriend, and you’ve been creeping her the fuck out!”

The room is charged with tension as the two friends face off. Felix, normally calm and collected, is visibly shaken by the breach of trust. You stand there, wrapped in a towel, feeling a mixture of concern and disgust for Oliver and an urge to comfort Felix.

Oliver, fumbling for words, finally admits, “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I messed up, and I completely understand if you’re mad.” Felix lets out a dark laugh, throwing his head back as Oliver gulps.

“Mate, we’re more than just mad. What you did is so fucking wrong,” Felix spat as Oliver says nothing but nods his head lightly. "I think it’s best if you leave, Ollie," you tighten the robe around your body as Felix lets out a deep sigh, running his hands through his hair as Ollie nods, his gaze on the ground.

“Of course. I’m sorry again,” he apologizes as you give him one final look, grabbing Felix’s arm and pulling him with you back into the bathroom. Felix looks over his shoulder at Oliver, slamming the door shut and locking it.

#felix catton saltburn #felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn x reader #saltburn #felix catton x oliver quick #boyfriend!felix catton #saltburn movie #saltburn 2023 #oliver quick #venetia catton #farleigh start #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi x you

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lumibuns-blog · 6 months

Note

Omggg i saw the new episode of jjk and it gave me such a big idea i think you'd love. Imagine one day sukuna finds his wife that he married thousands of years ago and due to their marriage his wife was granted immortality. And just like she never cheated or kissed another man just waiting for her husband to return and when they reunite (even if he doesnt say it) he is over the moon and just wants to never leave his wifes side ever again. Just much fluff and romance ahhhh

OMG THIS. THIS IS SO CUTE

Sakuna x reader fluff

Sukuna scoffed to himself, the boy had finally allowed him to take control after all this time. Even in this deep underground it felt good to feel the air on his face and not through that brat. He continued forward. Thousands of year of stored power and he had been reduced to a fraction of it, despite the immense power he held he couldn't help but miss the time when he ruled over the landscape, unchallenged.

He had a partner even, the one human who he couldn't bring himself to kill, the one he realized he couldn't live without. You had married him, been granted immortality by his hand, and still he had lost you. His last memory before being split and exorcised, was you running to him, crying his name. He was happy that was his last memory.

Sukuna tore himself from his own thoughts, they so often drifted to you but right now he wanted to use the small amount of freedom he was granted.

He moved his hand foreword, fire erupting from his fist as he threw the heat forward, it crashed through a wall, tunneling through the train station. He heard peoples screams like music to his ears, he walked foreword through the rubble. People ran, screaming, away from him. Fire cast from all around him, bursting every human in his sight into flames, he hummed contently to himself.

"S-Sukuna?" A feeble voice trembled from beside him

He knew that voice, he knew that voice, he slowly turned, a truly befuddled expression on his face, his lip curled as he dare not get his hood up but...

There you were, you looked exactly as gorgeous as the last moment he saw you, nothing changed, your clothes were more modern of course but there was no mistaking it, you were here.

"I knew it was you!" you cried, tears streaming down your face. You threw yourself into his arms.

He was too stunned to speak, his arms unmoving, all he could he process was the blood running down your leg, he moved his arms to gently put you down,

"Sakuna-"

"Did I do this to you?" He asked, his hand moving down to your leg, activating he reverse curse technique to heal the gash. He just couldn't believe that he had hurt you, it had been 1000 years and the first thing he did was hurt you

"Oh my love don't worry about that now" you smiled gently, you had always forgiven him no matter what he did

You moved a hand to his face to gently tip his head to look at you.

"I thought you would have found someone else by now, had a family moved on, I mean I'm sure you have" his voice grumbled low in his throat

"I would never" you leaned your forehead against his "I haven't touched a single souls since I lost you, I-I knew you would come back just like you promised"

Sakuna remembered the promise he had made to you that dim moonlit night, on the engawa of the palace you shared, that he would never leave you, even if the world fell apart he would always find you.

"I've missed you" he whispered moving his lips to kiss yours, he moved back to take in your entire person

"Your as beautiful as the day I lost you" he breathed

You smiled sweetly

"What the hell is going on?!?-" the onlooker was silenced as his head burst into flames

You continued to smile as if it was nothing

He picked you up bridal style, "we'll go find the house we used to share" he smirked to you

"I'd like that" you giggle

'Hey what the hell is going on' the brat who's body he had been forced to posses voice rang out in his head

Sukuna slapped his face "just shut it would ya" he growled to himself

"What was that?" you questioned from his arms

"I have a lot to explain" he breathed out

#jjk #jjk x y/n #jjk x oc #jjk imagines #jjk sakuna #sakuna ryomen #sakunaru #sakuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x oc #sukuna fluff

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pucksandpower · 8 months

Text

The Center Cannot Hold

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: one cruel diagnosis sends your hopes and dreams crashing down in painful shards around you

Warnings: cancer, medical procedures, infertility, religion, recommendation to terminate pregnancy

The sun sneaks through slits in the blinds, casting patches of warmth on your shared bed. You’re nestled against Charles’ chest, his heartbeat a gentle hum beneath your ear.

“Morning,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

You smile, shifting around to meet his gaze. “It’s beautiful outside.”

Charles brushes a stray hair behind your ear. “Every day with you is beautiful.”

There’s a silent pause as the two of just stare at each other. You both know there is more to this morning than mere pleasantries. You think of the tiny stick in the bathroom, far more significant than its small size would have you believe.

“Should we?” You ask hesitantly.

He nods, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Together.”

You both rise hand in hand, making the short walk to the bathroom. Your hands tremble as you reach for the plastic stick on the granite counter.

With a deep breath, you pick it up.

Two lines.

Positive.

Tears prick your eyes and you turn to Charles. “Look,” your voice barely a whisper.

He chokes on air. “Is this ... are we really”

“We did it,” you confirm, tears streaming freely.

Charles’ eyes shimmer with unshed tears of his own. He pulls you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. “We’re going to be parents.”

You pull back slightly, placing a hand on your stomach. “Our baby.”

He nods, laughing softly through his tears. “Our little miracle.”

Holding the test between you both, you share a look of wonder. It feels like the universe has just shifted and realigned in the most beautiful way.

***

The waiting room is a sea of neutral tones and the soft murmurs of hushed conversations. You sit, nervously tapping your fingers on your knee, while Charles wraps an arm around your shoulders in an attempt to calm you.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, “You alright?”

You give him a small, tense smile. “Just a bit nervous. First-time jitters, I guess.”

Charles gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Everything will be fine. It’s just a routine check-up.”

Before you can respond, a soft voice calls out, “Mrs. Leclerc?”

You both rise and follow the nurse as she leads you into a cozy exam room, pastel walls adorned with photos of smiling babies and happy families.

After a series of routine checks and questions, the mood remains light. However, when the doctor enters, a middle-aged woman with a kind face, there’s a subtle shift in the air, a feeling that’s hard to pin down.

“First-time parents?” She asks with a warm smile, trying to put you at ease.

Charles nods, beaming with pride. “Yes and we’re over the moon about it.”

She returns the smile but then her expression becomes more clinical, professional, as she reviews the ultrasound. The room is filled with the sound of the machine and your quiet exhalations.

Minutes stretch on, the silence growing more pronounced. The doctor’s brows furrow, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Charles, sensing the change, grips your hand tighter. “Is everything alright?”

She hesitates for a moment before turning to face you both. “Your baby seems healthy but there’s something concerning about your cervix. I would like to run a few more tests to be sure.”

Your heart plummets, the room suddenly feeling colder. “What ... what do you mean?”

She chooses her words carefully, “There is a chance that it is just a benign irregularity but we need to be certain.”

Tests turn into more tests and the hours seem to blur. Charles is fidgeting anxious mess beside you but his thumb never stops stroking your hand.

Finally, the doctor returns, the weight of the world seemingly on her shoulders. “I won’t sugarcoat it,” she begins heavily. “The results point to cervical cancer.”

Silence deafens the room. The world around you blurs and you feel Charles’ arms wrap around you, holding you as if you might shatter.

“No,” Charles whispers, his voice breaking. “There must be a mistake.”

The doctor looks at you with sympathy. “I wish there was. We caught it early but it’s aggressive. My recommendation would be to terminate the pregnancy and begin treatment immediately.”

Your mind races, heartbreak and disbelief clashing within. “Terminate? But our baby ...”

She gently cuts you off. “It’s the best chance to save your life.”

Your vision blurs, the reality of her words crashing over you like a tidal wave. The room, with its softly painted walls and happy baby pictures, suddenly feels like a cruel mockery.

Charles eyes are clouded over with tears and despair. “Please,” he whispers, holding your face between his trembling hands. “I can’t lose you.”

You choke back a sob, the enormity of the situation making it hard to breathe. “But our baby, Charles. Our little miracle.”

He hugs you close, his voice muffled as he buries his face your hair. “I know. But I need you. We promised each other forever, remember?”

You clutch at him, memories of shared dreams and whispered promises flooding back. The villa by the sea that you would fill with warmth and laughter, growing old together, watching sunsets side by side.

“I can’t imagine a life without you,” he continues, voice breaking. “Not a single day.”

The pain in his words cuts deep, each syllable a raw wound. You hide your face in his chest, tears soaking his shirt.

“We wanted this baby so much,” you whisper brokenly.

“I know,” Charles chokes out. “But I need you with me. I can’t be alone. I can’t live without you.”

***

The soft glow of a lamp casts long shadows, making the room feel both intimate and immense. You sit on the couch, a soft blanket draped around your shoulders, staring blankly at the tea that has long gone cold in your mug.

Charles sits opposite you, unmoving. He clears his throat, searching for words, “I’ve been thinking ... about what the doctor said.”

You look up, meeting his gaze, a storm brewing within it. “So have I.”

Charles closes his eyes, struggling with his emotions. “I can’t bear the thought of a world without you in it. I would be content, you know? To grow old, just the two of us, if it means I spend every day of my life with you by my side.”

Your heart aches, tears pricking your eyes. “Charles, our baby ...”

He cuts you off, voice filled with raw emotion. “I know. But you’re my world. I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you.”

A heavy silence settles between you two, the weight of unsaid words pressing down.

You take a deep breath, “I want this baby. I want our baby. But I also want to grow old with you, to be there for every race, for every win and every loss, on and off the track.”

He reaches across, taking your hand in his, fingers interlocking. “We’ve faced so much together. But this is tearing me apart. I just want you safe.”

You squeeze his hand, searching his eyes. “If I choose the baby, will you ... will you resent me? Will you resent them? If I choose the baby, and ... leave you alone?”

He looks away, the pain of thinking about it clear on his face, “Never. I would be lost. Completely and utterly lost. But I’ll never hold it against you. Or them. I’ll cherish our child but my heart ... my heart would be forever broken.”

You both sit in silence, lost in your thoughts.

“I’ve made up my mind.”

Charles looks at you intently, waiting.

“I’m going to keep the baby.”

He shuts his eyes tightly but a tear manages to slip through the crack and down his face. “I will support whatever decision you make. I just ... I love you so much.”

You move closer, wrapping your arms around him. “I love you too. We’ll face this together, no matter what.”

As you lay down beside Charles, the comfort of the familiar sheets beneath you, he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. You can feel the tension in his body, the struggle to be the rock, to be strong.

In the quiet darkness, you feel more than hear his silent sobs, the tremors that shake his frame. You reach out, intertwining your fingers with his, offering the only comfort you can as the world falls apart around you.

***

“Please, mon amour, just eat something,” Charles implores, voice laced with worry as he holds out a plate of your favorite pasta.

The aroma drifts to you, making your stomach churn, but you force a weak smile. “I’ll try.”

It’s been months since that fateful doctor’s appointment. The specter of cancer looms over your pregnancy like a dark cloud, casting shadows on the joy you should be feeling.

Days blur into one another. Doctor visits are now your routine. Charles, who once sped around racetracks with fearless abandon, now navigates the hospital corridors with a silent determination.

There are days when weakness consumes you, moments when you can’t summon the strength to get out of bed. Charles has become your lifeline, helping you dress, making sure you eat, and even carrying you when your legs give out.

“I can’t do this,” you whisper to him one night, tears tracing down your cheeks. “I’m not strong enough.”

He cradles your face, his own eyes brimming with tears he refuses to shed. “You are the strongest person I know. You’re carrying our baby. That’s the bravest thing anyone can do.”

The pain is relentless, a constant companion. Each doctor’s visit brings more bad news. The cancer is spreading and your body is weakening. Yet, you cling to hope, to the belief that your love for each other can conquer anything.

One evening, you're curled up on the couch, aching and exhausted. Charles, sitting beside you, traces a finger along your cheek, his touch gentle as he tries to be strong for both of you.

“You’re my world,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I hate seeing you like this but I would rather be with you in this darkness than without you in the light.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you reach for his hand. “We’ll get through this together. Our love is stronger than anything. Even cancer.”

But you’re not sure how much you can believe that anymore.

***

“You’re playing with fire,” your sister blurts out the moment she steps into your living room. Her eyes are red, mascara messily smudged around them.

Charles’ jaw clenches but before he can retort, your father interjects, his voice roughened by age and worry, “She means you’re risking too much. We all see it.”

You sink further into the couch under the weight of their stares. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you really?” Your mother questions wetly. “Every time we see you, you’re paler, weaker. Is it worth it?”

Charles steps forward, taking your hand. “It’s her choice. And I’ll stand by her through everything.”

Your best friend sighs deeply. “We’re just scared for you. We don’t want to lose you.”

The room becomes a whirlwind of opinions, tears, and pleas. They all mean well, you know that, but the their concerns feel suffocating.

The tension escalates, words sharper than intended, when suddenly Charles explodes, “That’s enough! It’s her decision and it’s not up for you to debate.”

The room falls silent.

Your sister speaks up, “We just love you, that’s all.”

Charles collapses onto the couch beside you, burying his face in his hands. “And you think I don’t? I don’t want to be a widower. A single father looking at our child and seeing only the love we lost,” he admits in a hushed tone, his voice breaking. “It’s the only thing I see whenever I close my eyes. It plagues my dreams. But that love means supporting Y/N even if seeing what she’s going through breaks my heart.”

You pull him close. “I know. But I need to hold onto hope. To believe we can have it all. Our baby and a lifetime together.”

He gazes deep into your eyes. “I love you. More than words can say. I just want you with me, always.”

Tears flow freely down your cheeks as you reach for his hand. “I know you’re scared. I am too. But I believe in us, in our love. And I can’t bear to let go of our baby.”

He wraps you in a hug and you can feel his body trembling. “I don’t want to lose you but I can’t stand to see you suffer like this either.”

***

“Do you think they’ll have your eyes?” Charles murmurs, his hand gently resting on your swollen belly, fingers tracing small circles.

You smile weakly, feeling the flutter of tiny kicks in response. “Or your fearless spirit?”

He chuckles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your baby bump. “Hey there, little racer. Promise me you’ll take after your mother more.”

Despite the weariness that constantly lingers, these quiet moments fill your heart with warmth.

“Imagine,” you whisper one evening, “our little one’s first day of school or their first race if they decide to follow in their papa’s footsteps.”

Charles grins, “And inheriting their maman’s stubborn streak will surely mean they’ll be a world champion.”

As your body grows heavier with the weight of the pregnancy and growth of the cancer, your time spent outside the confines of your bed becomes increasingly limited. The facade Charles wears for your benefit becomes increasingly brittle. He’s your rock, never letting his worries show in front of you, but you still see the toll it’s taking on him.

One evening, after ensuring you’re comfortably tucked in, Charles kisses your forehead softly and whispers, “Rest, mon amour. I’ll be right here.”

Drifting into a fitful sleep, you wake to the muffled sound of heart-wrenching sobs. Curiosity pulls you from the warm cocoon of your bed with the last of your strength, guiding you towards the soft light spilling from the slightly ajar bathroom door.

Listening closer, you can hear Charles’ broken voice, “I can’t ... I can’t lose her. Not like this.”

You press your hand to your mouth, tears spilling down your cheeks as you realize he’s on a call, probably with one of his brothers.

“You don’t understand,” Charles continues, his voice trembling with emotion. Every time I look at her, I see our future slipping away. Our dreams, our plans ... everything is fading into ashes.”

There’s a pause, punctuated with stifled sobs. “I have to be strong for her but it’s tearing me apart. Every smile I wear, every reassurance I give, it all feels like a lie because I am so freaking scared.”

Your heart aches, hearing the raw pain in his voice, knowing all this time he’s been shielding you from his own agony.

Silently, you retreat, not wanting him to know you’ve overheard. Slipping back into bed, you grapple with the weight of the shared pain, the collective heartache that has become your reality.

Minutes later, Charles returns to the bedroom. His eyes red-rimmed but determined. He sends a shaky smile your way, “How’s my brave girl?”

You reach out, trying to pull him against your chest with tired arms. “Let’s be brave together.”

He nods, choking back fresh tears. “Together. No matter what.”

***

The old church stands quietly in Maranello, its tall steeple pointing skyward, as if reaching out to the heavens. Inside, the soft glow of candles flickers as the side door swings open. Don Pietro, an aging priest with kind eyes lined with crow’s feet, is startled by the sudden entrance.

“Charles?” His voice, filled with surprise, echoes softly in the hushed space.

Charles’ normally confident stride is replaced with hesitation. “Don Pietro,” he tries to muster a smile but fails. “I ... I didn’t know where else to go.”

The priest approaches, eyes filled with concern. “I’ve been worried. When Ferrari announced you were taking a season off, I prayed for you.”

Charles chuckles bitterly, “Prayers. Never thought I would be seeking those.”

Don Pietro studies him for a moment. “Pain has a way of making us turn to the unexpected.”

Charles’ face contorts in anguish. “I’ve always called myself an atheist. After Jules ... after my father ... I felt abandoned by any god that might exist. But now, she’s ... she’s everything to me and I’m powerless to stop losing her.”

The priest’s voice is soft when he replies, “Life may test us in ways we can’t comprehend. But God never gives us more than we can bear.”

Charles’ laugh is hollow, devoid of mirth. “Bear? I can’t bear the thought of a world without her. Tell me, how does a loving god allow such pain?”

Don Pietro sighs, the weight of many years shining through. “I won’t pretend to know all the answers but sometimes faith is all we have.”

“I feel like I’m being punished, like I’m cursed. Why else would I lose the people I love most?” Charles looks at the ground, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he takes a shuddering breath. “I would give anything ... anything to save her. I have thought to visit mosques, synagogues, temples ... anywhere some higher power might listen to my pleas. I’m desperate, Don Pietro.”

The priest speaks gently, “Turning to God in times of despair is not weakness. It’s human. But faith is not about bargaining, it’s about having trust.”

A tear rolls down Charles’ cheek. “I’m so scared. Every night, I watch her sleep, wondering if it will be our last night together. I would gladly give up everything else if it means she stays with me.”

The priest reaches out, placing a comforting hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Then let’s pray, my son. Let us pray together.”

The tears turn to a steady stream rolling down Charles’ cheeks as he falls to his knees. “Please ... I’ll do anything. Just don’t take her away.”

Don Pietro kneels beside him. “God hears you, Charles. And He knows your pain.”

They stay united in prayer. Two souls reaching out to the heavens and begging for a miracle.

***

“It’s too early,” you gasp, clutching the bed sheets as another contraction grips you.

Charles is by your side, panic evident in his eyes even as he tries to keep you calm. “Breathe, love. Just breathe. We’ll get through this.”

But the pain is relentless, each contraction more intense than the last. The hospital room is a blur of activity, doctors and nurses rushing around, preparing for the premature delivery.

“You need to stay strong,” one of the nurses urges, trying to guide you through the pain.

Charles, pale and shaking, holds your hand so tightly it’s almost painful. “Stay with me,” he pleads, his voice breaking. “You and our baby, both of you, stay with me. Please.”

The labor is grueling, each passing minute a test of your willpower and strength. Charles is crumbling into pieces beside you, every ounce of his pain clearly written across his face.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispers, leaning close. “Not now, not ever.”

But the world around you is fading, the pain becoming too much to bear. “I love you so much. In this life and the next,” you choke out with the last of your strength as your vision tunnels.

Suddenly, alarms blare. The room becomes a whirlwind of organized chaos. “We’re losing her!” A doctor shouts.

Charles is pushed aside as they work to save you. “No! Please, no!” He screams in agony.

You’re dimly aware of being rushed into another room, doctors shouting orders and starting emergency procedures.

Then, everything goes black.

Charles is left in the corridor. A broken man, waiting for news, praying for a miracle. Hours feel like days, each passing second an eternity.

Finally, a doctor emerges, his scrubs covered in spots of dark blood. “The baby is fine,” he begins, “But your wife ... we had to put her in a coma. The cancer is advanced. We’ll do everything we can but she’s not out of the woods.”

Charles sinks to the floor, tears streaming down his face. “Please, just save her. Please.”

***

“It’s a girl,” a nurse approaches Charles with a small bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket.

Charles, tears still fresh on his face, looks up, momentarily stunned. “A ... a girl?”

The nurse nods, offering the tiny newborn to him. “Would you like to hold her?”

He hesitates, then slowly reaches out, cradling his daughter in his arms. Her small face, a canvas of peace among the chaos, is a stark contrast to the turmoil surrounding them.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispers, tears starting anew. “Just like her mother.”

The nurse smiles gently. “Have you thought of a name?”

Charles nods, “Juliette. After my godfather.”

Gently rocking the infant, he leans down, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Hey, Juliette,” he murmurs. “I’m your papa. Your maman and I have waited so long for you. We love you so much.”

Juliette stirs, her tiny fingers curling around one of Charles’ own.

“I promise,” Charles voice breaks, “to protect you. I will be here for you, always.”

A doctor approaches, clearing his throat. “Mr. Leclerc, your wife’s condition is critical. But she’s a fighter and she has a lot to fight for.”

Charles nods, looking down at Juliette. “She does. We both do.”

Gently rocking your daughter, he loses himself in the rhythm of her soft breaths and the warmth of her tiny body against his chest. It’s an odd feeling — holding the fresh promise of life in his arms while the love of his life hangs in the balance.

***

“We’ve run all possible tests,” the oncologist begins. Charles, clutching a sleeping Juliette to his chest, waits with bated breath. “The cancer has progressed aggressively. To give her a fighting chance, we need to perform a hysterectomy.”

The room grows cold as the gravity of the doctor’s words sinks in. Charles’ voice trembles, “But that means ...”

The doctor nods, voice as gentle as the situation allows. “She won’t be able to bear children again.”

Silence stretches as the weight of the world seems to fall on Charles’ shoulders. He gazes down at Juliette, the embodiment of the dreams and hopes you both had.

“We had plans,” Charles whispers, more to himself. “We wanted more children, a big family.”

The doctor waits. “I understand how hard this is. But without the procedure, her chances ...”

“I know,” Charles cuts him off, voice breaking. “Do it. Do whatever it takes to save her.”

The doctor nods, squeezing Charles’ shoulder in a gesture of comfort. “We’ll do our best.”

As preparations for the surgery commence, Charles sits in the dimly lit waiting area, holding Juliette close. The baby, as if sensing the heavy atmosphere, remains unusually quiet.

“It’s not fair,” Charles’ lips form words meant for the void. “She’s sacrificed so much already. She deserves a world filled with joy and laughter.”

From across the room, a nurse, having overheard, speaks up, “Life has its cruel twists but the love you both share … that’s rare. Hold onto that.”

Charles nods, taking solace in the nurse’s words. Time seems to lose all meaning, each tick of the clock amplifying the uncertainty and fear.

Finally, a surgeon approaches, fatigue evident in her posture even as her face remains carefully professional. “The procedure went as well as could be expected. Your wife is stable for now.”

Relief floods Charles so rapidly that he has to stop himself from falling to the ground as he murmurs a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

But as he sits by your bedside, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, the reality of what you had lost sets in. The dreams of a large family, shared laughter, and memories, all stolen by this cruel twist of fate.

***

The world around you is a haze of light and shadow, the sounds a distant echo. Your eyes flutter open and for a moment you’re lost, disoriented, and overwhelmed. Then, you see Charles, his face etched with relief and sorrow, tears glistening in his eyes.

“Welcome back,” he whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. “We’ve missed you so much.”

You try to speak but your throat is too parched to make a sound. Charles offers you a sip of water, his hands trembling as he helps you drink.

“What happened?” You finally manage to croak, your eyes darting around the unfamiliar room.

Charles takes a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. “The cancer ... it had advanced. They had to perform a hysterectomy to save you.”

The word hangs in the air, heavy and final. Your abdomen feels sore and you reach down, fingers tracing the bandages. Panic seizes you and the tears pour down without permission as the reality of what’s been taken from you crashes down.

“It’s gone,” you sob. “Our dreams ... our family.”

Charles leans in, tears mingling with yours. “Shh, mon amour. None of this is your fault. We’ll find another way, another path to happiness. We have Juliette and we have each other.”

But the weight of guilt is crushing. “We dreamed of a big family,” you cry, the depth of your loss piercing. “And I’ve taken that away from us.”

He brushes your tears away. “You have nothing to be sorry for. This is not your fault. We’ll make new dreams together, I promise.”

“I just wanted to give you everything,” the grief wracks your body.

“You already have,” Charles insists. “You’ve given me love, you’ve given me our little girl … our Juliette. That’s more than I could ever ask for.”

With great effort, you lift your arms, weak from the ordeal. Charles, understanding your unspoken desire, carefully places Juliette against your chest. You’re too weak to hold her on your own but together, you and Charles support her tiny form.

“Hello, Juliette," you whisper, tears of joy mingling with your earlier tears of grief.

She blinks up at you, her eyes wide and curious. You’ve never felt anything like what fills your heart as you look at the perfect human you both created, the embodiment of love and resilience.

“I love you both so much,” you whisper, heart swelling with a dizzying mix of joy and sorrow.

Charles, his own eyes filled with tears, leans down and kisses both you and Juliette gently. “We have each other and right now that’s all that matters.”

***

“I never imagined it would be like this,” your voice wavers as you lie propped up by pillows in the dimly lit bedroom.

Charles, his fingers intertwined with yours, meets your gaze. “Neither did I.”

The weight of all that’s transpired hangs heavily in the room. The joy of Juliette’s arrival is marred by the pain and loss you both feel.

“I feel ... incomplete,” you admit, tears forming in your eyes. “Like a part of me is missing.”

“I wish I could take away the pain,” Charles responds. “If I could trade places with you, I would in a heartbeat.”

You squeeze his hand. “It’s not your burden to bear. But it’s … hard. I wanted to give Juliette siblings, the big family we always talked about.”

Charles leans in to rest his forehead against yours. “We still have a family. We have each other and we have Juliette. We can still have a full, beautiful life together.”

You sigh, “But do you ever wonder why? Why us?”

He hesitates, searching for words. “Every day. Sometimes, there’s just no answer, only a path forward.”

You curl into him, drawing comfort from his warmth. “What does our path forward look like?”

Charles pulls back, looking deep into your eyes. “It’s filled with love, with hope. We heal together. We face challenges together. And we build a future together. No matter what.”

“I’m scared.”

He brushes away your tears. “So am I. But we have each other and that’s a pretty good place to start if you ask me.”

***

“She smiled, Charles! Did you see that? Juliette smiled!”

Charles rushes over and peers into the crib with gleaming eyes. “There it is! That little grin,” his voice is filled with wonder. “Our little miracle has the most beautiful smile. Just like her mother’s.”

Juliette, seemingly aware of the shared happiness in the room, gurgles softly, her small fingers reaching out to grasp a lock of Charles’ hair.

You watch them, a gentle smile playing on your lips. “She brings us so much joy. It’s amazing.”

Charles nods, his eyes never leaving Juliette’s face. “She’s our light in the darkness.”

Leaning over, you press a soft kiss to Juliette’s forehead. “I’m so thankful for both of you.”

He shifts closer, resting his head against yours. “You know, mon amour, I’ve been thinking ...”

You turn to him, curiosity piqued. “About what?”

He takes a deep breath. “About our dreams. I know it’s not what we originally planned but what if we consider adoption?”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, love and hope blossoming. “Adoption?”

Charles smiles warmly. “Yes. We’ve always dreamed of a big family. And there are so many children out there who need a home, who need love. We can give a child all of that and more.”

Tears well up in your eyes but they’re tears of joy and gratitude. “That’s a beautiful idea.”

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours gently. “Our love knows no bounds. The path to our dreams may not be as simple as we once imagined but we will get there, one step at a time.”

***

Charles’ phone buzzes with an incoming call in the early hours of the morning. Seeing a familiar name flash across the screen, he answers immediately. “Don Pietro? Is everything okay?”

“Charles, you need to come to Maranello. Both of you. As soon as possible.”

Charles exchanges a puzzled glance with you. “Is something wrong?”

“Just come,” Don Pietro insists, “and bring your wife. I believe there is a miracle waiting for you.”

The drive to Maranello is filled with anticipation. Your mind races with possibilities, questions whirling in a tornado of confusion and hope.

Upon arriving at the church, you’re met with the sight of the elderly priest holding a tiny bundle. The baby, with soft tufts of hair and eyes wide with curiosity, looks up at the two of you.

“This,” Don Pietro begins, “is Enzo. He was left on the steps of our church last night. And the moment I held him, I thought of you two.”

Charles’ eyes widen. “Enzo ... like Ferrari?”

Don Pietro nods with a soft chuckle, “It’s as if the universe is trying to tell us something.”

You reach out, taking the infant into your arms. Enzo’s little hand wraps around your finger, his eyes meeting yours. The connection is instant, like two souls recognizing each other.

Charles’ voice is thick with emotion, “It’s as if he was meant to be with us. A sign, maybe?”

Don Pietro smiles warmly, “Perhaps a nudge from above, reminding us that miracles happen when we least expect them.”

Tears spring to your eyes, the weight of the moment overwhelming you. Charles is equally moved, his eyes glistening and lips trembling.

“We talked about adoption,” he murmurs. “But this ... this feels like fate.”

Don Pietro nods. “He needs a family, love, and a home. And I believe you two can give him that.”

As Charles takes Enzo from your arms and cradles him close, a bond that goes beyond words quickly forms. You lean in, touching Enzo’s chubby cheek, your heart swelling with love.

The moment feels destined — a new piece seamlessly fitting into the puzzle of your family.

***

“Look at that, Julie and Enny! Those cars go vroom vroom,” you point out with a smile playing on your lips as the roar of engines fills the air.

Juliette’s eyes widen in awe, her tiny hand pointing excitedly. Beside her, Enzo claps his hands, giggling. “Vroom!” He mimics.

Charles, his racing suit on, kneels to their level. “Would you like to see papa’s car up close?”

Both children nod eagerly, their eyes sparkling.

As you make your way through the paddock, team members and other drivers stop to meet the kids. “Look at these future champions!” Exclaims one of the engineers, ruffling Enzo’s hair.

Juliette, ever the social butterfly, giggles and offers a shy “Hello.”

Reaching the Ferrari garage, the team breaks into smiles. “Looks like Charles brought his lucky charms today,” someone comments, causing a round of chuckles.

“Ready for a photo op?” Charles grins, lifting Juliette into the driver's seat as you follow suit with Enzo, placing him right beside his sister.

They look so small in the cockpit, faces full of wonder. “Beep beep,” Juliette laughs, pretending to steer.

“Future Ferrari driver right here,” Charles beams.

As the team gathers around, cameras flashing, you take a moment to soak it all in. The laughter, the joy, the memories — this is what life is about.

“There were times I thought this day would never come,” Charles whispers to you, his arm wrapping around your waist. “Our family here, all together.”

You squeeze his hand, tears of happiness threatening to spill over. “Our dream is now … and it’s only just beginning.”

***

“Henri and Helaine, look it’s your sister!” You cheer, pointing to the massive screen as Juliette’s Ferrari speeds past, making your young twins cheer and clap clumsily in excitement.

Charles grins as an orange blur follows shortly, “And Enzo’s not far behind. What a race!”

The atmosphere in the paddock is electric. Red for Ferrari, orange for McLaren, the colors of a family divided by teams but united by love.

Suddenly, a microphone appears as a familiar reporter approaches. “A quick word for the fans? It must be a thrilling day for the Leclerc family!”

Charles grins, adjusting his half-Ferrari, half-McLaren cap. “Oh, absolutely! We couldn’t be any prouder. A bit of sibling rivalry never hurt anyone, right?”

You laugh, nodding in agreement. “We’ve always said, as long as they’re safe and enjoying themselves, that’s what matters. Though,” you add with a playful wink, “I always wear both colors, just in case!”

The reporter chuckles. “And the young ones? Future racers in the making?”

Henri, with all the innocence of childhood, pipes up, “I wanna go vroom too!”

Helaine nods rapidly. “Me too! Super duper fast.”

You and Charles exchange a glance in amusement. “Well, there you have it,” Charles says with a smile. “Looks like the tracks will be seeing Leclercs for many years to come.”

The race ends with both Juliette and Enzo clinching a podium finish. The celebrations are loud and filled with joy, but for you, true happiness is seeing your family — past, present, and future — come together just like you always dreamed.

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sabersandsnipers · 8 months

Text

A Stray on the Road

Author’s Note: I work with a lot of the pediatric population as a nurse, so I thought about what Halsin and Astarion’s reactions would be to me having to protect and take care of every kid I find lol

The day was grueling. The sticky sensation of blood covers every inch of your skin. Aches and pains rattle your bones, and the road seems endless as your group searches for a good place to set up camp. The only thought keeping you going is that of curling up between Astarion and Halsin later.

“Gods, this is hell,” Karlach complains.

Wyll responds with some snide comment, but you’re only half listening, because you’re approaching a rather violent scene. Wagons are tipped over, and bodies litter the road. You slow as you approach, noticing a small figure sitting by a pair of bodies.

Your gaze sharpens, and you see it’s a young girl. No older than 5. Tears stream down her cheeks as she sits by a pair of dead bodies. Your heart sinks as you realize it’s probably her parents.

“Hang back, guys,” you say. You fear the approach of such a large group will frighten her. Attempting to wipe the blood off your face, you walk up to the girl.

Her clothes are tattered, and you notice she has a few cuts lining her arms and legs. You crouch next to her.

“Hey,” you say softly.

Big beautiful brown eyes meet yours. Something twists in your chest.

“What’s your name?” you ask.

She sniffles. “Eowyn.”

“Eowyn, do you have family nearby?”

She shakes her head. “No. And I don’t know where I am.”

Her voice trembles, and your heart breaks for her. You look back to your companions. Most won’t mind her staying with them, except for Astarion, who will be annoyed by the young presence.Your friends look back at you expectantly, wondering what your next move is.

“Would you like to stay with me and my friends for the night?” you ask her.

She looks to the group behind you, and you half expect her to run away in fear with how harsh they look.

But her expression doesn’t change, she simply nods her head.

“Do you think you can walk?” you ask her.

She shakes her head.

You smile at her. “That’s okay. Halsin?”

The elf approaches. Eowyn stares up at him, eyes wide.

“Is it alright if my friend carries you?” you ask her.

She nods. “He’s so tall.” Her eyes are filled with wonder.

“He is,” you say with a chuckle. You look to Halsin and he nods. He reaches down and picks up the child, placing her on his shoulder.

“Hold on, child,” he says. There’s a slight smile on her face, but then darkness fills her eyes again.

Your group ventures forth once more. The sun is beginning to set, casting shadows along the road. But you can’t help but admire the beautiful colors streaking across the sky.

Astarion falls into step beside you. “Picked up another stray, I see.”

You nudge your shoulder against him. “You were a stray once too.”

He gives a half smile. “I’m just worried you’re going to burden yourself with her safety.”

You let out a sigh, knowing he wouldn’t like her presence. “She has no one, Astarion.”

He doesn’t say anymore, but you can feel the tenseness between you two. Your relationship is still being navigated. But even with your difference in values, you couldn’t stop yourselves from being drawn to each other.

A giggle pulls you from your thoughts. You look back to see Eowyn playing with Halsin’s braids. He’s grinning back at her, thoroughly enjoying her laughs. The sight sparks a warmth within you, and you can’t stop the smile from growing on your lips.

“Ugh.” Astarion comments. “Does he always have to be so…Halsin?”

You shoot him a half hearted glare. Despite him being agreeable to Halsin joining your relationship, he always seems taken aback by his general goodness and willingness to help others.

Your trek continues, Astarion allowing your hands to brush ever so slightly as you walk the dusty road.

The fire crackles as Karlach throws more wood onto the flames. A warm stew has been shared amongst your group, Eowyn getting a healthy portion. Conversations scatter around, commenting on the latest tavern you stopped at, or how a fight went along the way.

You sit on a log between Eowyn and Halsin, but Astarion sits over by his tent. He’s reading one of his books, sipping on some wine.

Every time you glance to Eowyn, you notice her watching Astarion. Her gaze is curious, and she seems completely enthralled with him. Not that you can blame her. You’re completely enthralled as well.

“He’s so beautiful,” she suddenly comments. You smile at her and then look at your love.

“Isn’t he?” you respond. “He’s awfully nice too, to the people he likes.”

“I saw you kissing earlier. Are you married?” she asks.

You laugh. “No, but I do love him very much.”

Confusion crosses her face, as if she can’t comprehend how you can be in love but not married. She takes another bite of her stew. Her eyes flicker back to Astarion.

A few minutes later she taps you on the shoulder. You turn away from your conversation with Halsin as she leans over to you.

“Do you think he would read me a bedtime story?” she asks in a whisper.

You grin, and glance at Astarion. Although he would most definitely deny her request, he can’t deny you.

“Yes. You should go over and ask. Tell him I sent you.”

Her expression brightens. She gets right up and makes her way over to Astarion, who doesn’t acknowledge her until she’s standing right in front of him. He finally looks up, his expression mildly annoyed. Eowyn talks for a few moments and then he shoots a glare in your direction.

You raise an eyebrow at him, daring him to say no. He bites the inside of his lip. The seconds pass as you wait for his response.

Finally, his body relaxes and he nods his head. Eowyn sits down on the cushion next to him, snuggling up right close to him. Although Astarion tenses a bit, he doesn’t push her away. You watch them for a bit, admiring how adorable they look together.

A pair of hands find their way to your shoulders.

A familiar voice whispers in your ear. “I’m going to bathe in the river. Would you like to join me?” Halsin asks. He places a hot kiss against your neck.

“Halsin, the day I say no to that question, I want you to push me off a cliff, because clearly I’ve gone mad,” you respond.

A breathy laugh caresses your skin. You give him your hand and the two of you make your way to the water.

When you return from your excursion with Halsin, skin still tingling, you’re astounded by the sight before you. Astarion and Eowyn still sit together, except Eowyn is sound asleep in his lap. Astarion looks down at her, his hand resting lightly on her hair. You can’t read his expression.

When you approach Astarion, you crouch down and place a kiss to his temple. He smiles at you, and it makes your heart flutter just like the first time.

“I can have Halsin take her to my tent,” you offer, brushing back a strand of his white curls.

He hesitates, looking down at Eowyn. “I think we’ll be okay. She looks so comfortable.”

She’s curled right up, her head resting on his chest. Her face looks so serene after all the horrors she’s experienced today.

“Okay. I’ll go spend the night with Halsin then. Just come get me if you need me,” you tell him.

“I think we’ll be okay, darling,” he replies.

You smile and kiss him goodnight. As you make your way to Halsin’s tent, you take one last look over your shoulder, and allow yourself a moment to admire the two of them. And it brings you great joy to know Astarion is finding just as much comfort as she is.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #halsin #halsin x reader x astarion #astarion x reader x halsin #halsin x reader #astarion x reader #astarion imagine #halsin imagine

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theostrophywife · 7 months

Text

kiss with a fist | chapter four.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: bohemian rhapsody by queen.

author's note: i'm warning ya'll now this one is sugary sweet. i'm basically finished writing all the chapters, so i'll be pushing these out more often. as always, i hope everyone enjoys my mans.

The west wing of the castle was eerily quiet as you led Theo through the corridors. The spiral staircase leading up to Ravenclaw Tower snaked all the way up to the fifth floor, which was proving to be a feat to climb in the dark given that you weren’t able to cast lumos without being discovered. It didn’t help that a slightly inebriated Theo kept trudging on your toes during your ascent.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake,” you hissed under your breath before grabbing hold of Theo’s hand. Even in the dark, you could tell that the insufferable twat was smirking. “Not a word, Nott. I either hold your hand like a toddler or keep suffering in silence as you stomp on my toes with your giant feet.”

“You know what they say about giant feet,” Theo whispered behind you. Moonlight streamed through the skylight, perfectly illuminating your scowl. His grin grew wider as he squeezed your hand. “Giant shoes. What did you think I was going to say, Y/N?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t say anything.”

Theo gave you a mocking salute as he quietly followed you up the stairs. You tried not to focus on the warmth of his hand or the way his fingers twined tightly around yours. You especially tried not to dwell on the strange but not entirely unpleasant sensation of Theo’s thumb rubbing soothing circles across your knuckles.

When you reached the fourth floor, Theo made no move to release your hand as you walked up to the wooden door. It had no knob or keyhole, but a knocker in the shape of an eagle. Identical to the common room entrance, which was a floor above. But you had no plans on smuggling a Slytherin into the eagle’s nest.

Instead, you gently rapped on the knocker. The bronze eagle blinked back at you. Theo nearly fell over in surprise as it rasped out a question.

“What breaks and never falls, and what falls and never breaks?”

“Day breaks and night falls,” you answered.

The knocker nodded, appearing pleased before the door swung open. Theo chuckled softly. “Of course you Ravenclaws would require a riddle for entrance. Godric forbid you use something as simple as a password.”

“Passwords are easily guessed, riddles are not.” You tugged him into the dimly lit hallway and gave him a sharp look. “Don’t get any ideas of sneaking in, either. The riddle changes every day and the eagle is prone to clawing intruders.”

Theo shivered. “And yet everyone thinks that we Slytherins are the sadistic ones.”

You smiled in satisfaction as the two of you walked further into the fourth floor. Theo trailed along after you, more than happy to let you take the lead for once. He stopped short when you opened the door to the music room. Starlight flooded in through the stained glass windows, drawing silver prisms across the crushed velvet couches, ornate persian rugs, and tiered choral risers. Instruments of every kind were organized into neat rows—harps, cellos, lutes, violins, and even a set of bagpipes.

But you weren’t interested in any of them.

In the center of the room sat a baby grand piano. Theo watched curiously as you sat on the bench and carefully lifted the mahogany top.

“I didn’t even know we had a music room,” he remarked as he slid in beside you.

“That’s not surprising at all.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “So this is how you relax?”

You nodded, resting your fingers on the ivory keys. “Like I said, I’m not really the type of person who can just turn their mind off so I have to occupy myself with something else. With music, I can focus on the chords and scales and patterns and eventually I sort of just get lost in the melody.”

“Play something for me, then.”

You nodded and started playing a familiar piece. The music flowed through you like honey, each chord and note so vivid in your mind that you could practically imagine the sheet music floating before you.

When you first came to Hogwarts, you spent countless hours in this room. Every time you felt overwhelmed by the wizarding world, you channeled your frustrations and fears into this piano. You found that music was a universal language that was understood by both the magical and muggleborn.

As you played, you felt the classics pour out of you. Beethoven, Chopin, Liszt, Debussy. They were pieces that you learned from your father. You could almost picture it now, sitting in your sunny London flat and playing the piano together while your mother watched and listened.

The melancholic melody of Swan Lake filled the room. It was the first piece you ever mastered when you begged your father to teach it to you after coming home from the ballet. A wave of nostalgia crashed into you as you closed your eyes and let yourself become one with the music.

Each movement was fluid, the muscle memory embedded into you while your fingers flew over the keys. The piece built to its crescendo and it felt bittersweet as you delivered the final note. You had all but forgotten about Theo until you opened your eyes again.

“Only you would find the morbidity of Swan Lake relaxing,” he said with a small smile.

You quirked a brow. “You know Tchaikovsky?”

“Of course. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a total degenerate.”

“But he’s a muggle.”

“I’ll have you know that I received an Outstanding in my O.W.L. for Muggle Studies.”

You gaped. “I didn’t even know you were taking Muggle Studies.”

“Advanced Muggle Studies,” he corrected. “As much as I love a depressing classic, I think you’ll find this piece a bit more modern.”

Theo scooted over and began playing a vaguely familiar intro. You strained to place the music and watched with complete bewilderment as he continued to play with a grin.

Any way the wind blows doesn’t really matter to me.

The realization set in just as Theo nudged you to play the next part with him. The ballad came naturally to you after having heard the song so many times.

Mama, just killed a man.

Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he's dead.

Mama, life had just begun.

The two of you barrelled through the guitar solo and weaved through the operatic section. Your fingers were cramped by the time you hit the hard rock portion of the song. You hadn’t even noticed that you were singing along until you heard Theo laugh in delight beside you. Thank Rowena for the soundproof walls.

You turned over, and sang the lyrics right at him. So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?

Theo delivered the next line with equal fervor. So you think you can love me and leave me to die?

The two of you looked at each other and serenaded one another rather aggressively. Oh, baby, can't do this to me, baby.

Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here.

Both of you were in stitches when you finally reached the outro. You couldn’t remember the last time you laughed so hard.

“We did not just perform a godsawful rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody.”

“Speak for yourself. My vocals would’ve brought Freddie Mercury to tears.” He touched his heart, looking solemn. “Godric rest his soul. The man was a proper genius.”

“I would not have pegged you as a Queen fan.”

“You can peg me no matter whose fan I am, darling.”

The snort came out of you before you had a chance to reign it in. Theo’s eyes widened in surprise as you covered your mouth in utter mortification. It had taken you years to control your snort, but sometimes it just slipped out.

“Did you just—”

“Speak of it ever again and I’ll maim you, Theodore.”

He raised his hands. “I’m not mocking you, I swear. I’ve just never heard you laugh like that.”

“Yeah, well, I suppose all this faffing around has unearthed my shameful secret.” You tried and failed to conceal your smile. “Consider it a compliment. No one’s heard my snorting in years.”

“Maybe they should. It’s quite charming, you know.”

You chuckled again, not bothering to hide your snorts.

Theo grinned. “On second thought, I think I’d like to keep that laugh all to myself.”

The flush that crept onto your cheeks was entirely involuntary. You stretched your legs underneath you and bumped your knee against his. “Congratulations, Nott. You’ve somehow managed to accomplish the impossible. I actually feel relaxed for once in my life.”

“Relaxed enough for a midnight snack?”

You shook your head. “No way. I’m not sneaking into the kitchens again. I barely escaped Winky’s notice when I nicked your muffin last time.”

“Who said anything about the kitchens? I have my own stash of snacks back in the dungeons. How do you feel about gelato?”

“I’ve never had it,” you admitted.

Theo looked properly affronted. “As an Italian, I take that as a personal offense.”

“Isn’t it the same thing as ice cream?”

“The same as—that’s honestly the most inconsiderate thing you’ve ever said to me.” He rubbed his temples. “This is no longer a matter of choice now. The reputation of my people is on the line until you’ve tasted stracciatella.”

Your mouth quirked. “Got any mint chocolate?”

As you expected, he flung his hands around as though you’d just asked for feet flavored gelato. “Che palle! This is more dire than I thought. Mint chocolate? You might as well squeeze toothpaste on a chocolate frog and call it a day.”

Theo ranted as he led you out of the music room. You couldn’t help but giggle at the genuine distress in his expression. You made it all the way to the first floor of the tower before he stopped grumbling under his breath.

“Well, gelato aficionado, I hope you have a plan because Filch is probably making his rounds as we speak.”

He only smirked in response. “I may know a shortcut.”

You followed after Theo as he approached a portrait on the far end of the west wing. He produced the grimoire from his pocket and shuffled through the worn leather pages before he found the correct page. With a flick of his wand, Theo chanted something in Italian. The portrait, a young woman with dark hair and a mischievous grin, appraised the two of you. As her gaze flickered over you, the familiarity of those watercolor eyes struck you like lightning.

“Fai scelte intelligenti, cugino.”

With that, the portrait swung open into some sort of secret tunnel. Theo’s lips twitched as he gestured for you to step through the threshold. As the portrait swung close, you heard the young woman sigh dreamily.

“La storia si ripete.”

While your understanding of Italian was rudimentary at best, you were fairly certain that she’d said something about history repeating itself. Theo reached for your hand in the dark and you took it without question. You were deep within the secret passage before you even realized it.

“Family of yours?”

“How’d you guess?”

“You have the same eyes,” you observed. “Plus, she called you cousin.”

He seemed mildly amused by the comment. “Been brushing up on your Italian?”

“Only enough to make sure you’re not insulting me.”

Theo chuckled. “Fair enough. To answer your question, yes. The portrait is of Coletta, my second cousin thrice removed. She attended Hogwarts centuries ago. She was a Ravenclaw as well.”

“Why is that name so familiar?”

“She invented the enchantment for the moving portraits. Of course her first subject was herself.”

“So narcissism and vanity is an inherited trait, then?”

Theo smirked. “Darling, when you’re as pretty as we are, then immortalizing that beauty for future generations to behold becomes a high priority.”

“Oh, good. I was worried that you were becoming too humble."

“Let’s just say that dear old Coletta won’t be the only one in my bloodline to be featured on a chocolate frog card.”

“I doubt that being the world’s most massive wanker constitutes the commissioning of a card.”

He rolled his eyes as you rounded a corner. Theo kept you behind him as he pushed on a depression in the walls. It gave way, swinging open to an empty hallway.

“Speaking of massive wankers, welcome to the Slytherin dormitories.”

You smirked and nodded to the giant serpent statue at the end of the hallway. “Is that a basilisk or are you just happy to see me?”

“My poor little Ravenclaw. I’m afraid I’ve corrupted you past the point of no return.”

“Please,” you tutted, strutting through the maze of the dungeon dormitories like you owned the place. “I was depraved way before I ever met you.”

Theo chuckled under his breath as he led you further into the heart of the viper’s nest. Through the windows, you could see the dark waves of the Black Lake ripple as you walked through. It was oddly beautiful, in a morbid sort of way.

“Here we are,” Theo said as you came to a stop at the end of the hall. “Home sweet home.”

Before you entered, he muttered a series of privacy and protection spells that you’ve never even heard of. Magic weaved through the door and sizzled with evergreen sparks before it finally swung open.

“Paranoid much?”

“You have no idea. You Ravenclaws may have your riddles, but learning how to hex your door from nosy snooping twats is a right of passage for every Slytherin.”

You peered through the threshold, suddenly feeling nervous. In the past year doing whatever it was you and Theo were doing, it had become a sort of unspoken rule to have sex anywhere but your dorms. For one, it was too much of a hassle to sneak each other in, but if you were being honest, the main reason why you've never even attempted was because seeing someone else’s room was strangely intimate. You tried not to think about how easily Theo invited you into his space as you ducked through the door.

A mixture of envy and jealousy hit you full force when you walked into his dorm. It was a massive room with a four poster bed, luxurious velvet curtains, and a stained glass skylight. There was a mahogany desk littered with ancient tomes, cracked parchment, and half empty ink pots. The latest Nimbus model was propped up next to his nightstand with a green and silver scarf tied around its hilt. Leave it to Theo to use the expensive broom as a glorified hanger.

You made your way through the elegantly decorated room and noted that it was far tidier than you would’ve expected. Theo was content to hang back and watch as you looked through his baubles. A picture on his nightstand caught your eye. Mostly because it wasn’t like the moving portraits you were so used to seeing in the wizarding world. This was a still likeness, a polaroid of a beautiful dark haired woman with little Theo. He was wearing a Cambridge jumper three sizes too big and showing off his two missing front teeth with a cheeky grin.

The image tugged at your heart. “Is this your mum?”

Theo nodded. “Yeah, that was the first time she took me with her to Cambridge.”

“And there’s the infamous jumper you begged her to buy, huh?”

“The one and only.”

You kept staring at the photo, noting how happy little Theo looked. It made you think back on that day at the lab when you watched him slip on his smirk like a mask. Like armor. You wondered if you’d ever see his unguarded smile, full of childlike wonder and joy, just like in the picture. You wondered why you even wanted to.

“She was very beautiful,” you finally said, setting down the polaroid.

“She was,” Theo wistfully agreed. “Clearly I inherited her good looks.”

Rolling your eyes fondly, you continued surveying his room. For some reason, you found it fascinating. You nearly squealed in delight when you came across the towers of books he had lined up against the wall.

“Go ahead,” Theo said with a chuckle. “I know you’re dying to snoop, diavolina.”

He couldn’t have been more right. You loved going through people’s bookshelves. You could tell a lot about a person based on their books. In Theo’s case, his reads were nearly as chaotic and surprising as he was.

As expected, there were a few books on quidditch, a rare potions tome that you were fairly certain cost a small fortune, a selection of mystery novels, all magical save for a lone leatherbound book on the top shelf. You carefully cracked it open and found yourself reading through the Divine Comedy.

“Dante’s Inferno,” you said in surprise. “How terribly morbid of you.”

“How so?” He asked, reading over your shoulder. “Alighieri composed it as a comedy rather than a tragedy. It does have somewhat of a happy ending.”

“I suppose, but the poem was mainly a raw commentary on the savage nature of human existence and delved into the ugliness of it all, from the banal to the depraved. The eternal torture chamber was a meditation on evil. Even purgatory explored the flaws of human nature and the fallen state society often finds itself in.”

Theo took the book from your hands and flipped to the last section. “Yes, but Paradiso was all about goodness. It explores transcendence, redemption, and virtue.” He smiled softly. “I know the concept of paradise might be a bit naive, but isn’t there a concept of heaven that we all hold onto to prevent ourselves from despairing? When you’re trudging through shit, you’ve got to hope that you’re clawing for something better on the other side.”

You were silent for a moment. “What does Paradise look like for you, Nott?”

Theo smirked. “You’ll have to get me higher than this to answer that question, dolcezza.”

“Fair enough. Now educate me on gelato like you promised.”

A few minutes later, the two of you sat cross legged on his rug while indulging in decadent scoops of stracciatella. The creaminess of the gelato was perfectly complemented by delicious flakes of dark chocolate. The sounds you made while eating were borderline sexual.

“If I had known it was this easy to make you moan, I would’ve introduced you to gelato ages ago.”

You lightly kicked him in the shin. “I still can’t believe you enchanted a mini fridge to hold your fancy imported dessert.”

It was actually quite impressive. You hadn’t even thought of doing that yourself and you were the muggleborn one.

“Perks of acing advanced muggle studies.”

“Having a Gringott’s vault at your disposal helps as well.”

“Smart, rich, and handsome. I’m just an all around catch, aren’t I?”

“Someday you’ll make some poor unsuspecting witch very, very miserable.”

“Someday?” Theo asked, the corner of his mouth curving into a mischievous smile. “Why wait? I’m perfectly capable of making you miserable now.”

With that, he took a dollop of his gelato and smushed it against the tip of your nose.

You gasped in surprise, squealing at how cold and sticky it felt against your skin. “You’re a dead man, Nott.”

Theo bolted to the other side of his dorm and you followed, trying to fling scoops of gelato at him. He giggled like a child as he dodged your attacks but there was only so much space for him to evade you. Finally, he gripped your wrists to keep you from retaliating.

“Here, let me clean you up.”

As you squirmed in his grasp, Theo leaned over and licked the tip of your nose. You squealed in disgust as he lapped up every bit of gelato. Theo sneakily took your cup from you and set them aside before leaning back to admire his work. From this close, you could see the gold flecks in his eyes. They darkened as you glanced up at him, his blue green gaze turning stormy.

“What?” you asked, brushing at your face. “Is my face all sticky and gross?”

Theo shook his head. “No—you look fine—more than fine you’re—“ He paused, stumbling for words. “Can I kiss you?”

The question suddenly made you feel nervous, which was ridiculous given the fact that you’d kissed Theo countless times before, but there was something about the way he looked at you now that felt…different.

“You’ve never asked before.”

Theo frowned. “Maybe I should have.” He ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “Gods, you’re right. I can be a real wanker sometimes.”

You smiled. “To be fair, I kissed you first. Mostly to shut you up, but still. I’ve never asked either.”

He swallowed thickly as he ran his fingers through your braid. “Well, can I?”

A knot formed in your stomach as you nodded. This was ridiculous. There was no need to be nervous. You repeated those words over and over again to yourself as Theo caressed your cheek, his gaze flickering over your face as though he was searching for that final missing piece of the puzzle. Then, gently, as gently as he ever had, Theo leaned in and kissed you.

He tasted like cigarettes and mint, like dark chocolate and cream, like stracciatella and sin.

But most of all, Theodore Nott tasted like your own personal unraveling.

Taglist: @annaisabookworm@marina468@yaraasthings @the0doreslover@bubybubsters@moony-artemis @natasha887@lucyysthings@criesinlies @bunnymallowo@niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl@wordsarelife@clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar @mishtay @cherry-hoe @littlebookbengal @maybefoxysouls @nomup @aliensknowmyillusions @cinderellawithashoe @starsval @kalulakunundrum @lucyysthings @siriuslysmoking @purplegirls-posts @unstablereader @lqclercs @whatsupb18 @rikirritated @psychedeliccc @jetblackpayne @clairesjointshurt @ama1a2 @omwtkydttfym @cinderellawithashoe @xeqr @txzii @goldenmagnolias @ilikefictionalmen @xxpeachyxo @dirt-cup-draco

Please let me know if you'd like to be added.

#i would lick gelato off of this mans [censored]#theo nott #theo nott fic #theo nott smut #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott smut

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estapa-edwards · 1 month

Text

I THINK I LOVE YOU - L.FANTILLI

paring: Luca fantilli x fem! reader

word count: 2.2k

requested? yes - “i think i love you…?” “….. think?” “let’s just say a ninety-nine percent chance.” “i’ll take it.” w/ luca !!!

warnings: use of y/n.

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The first time I realized I had feelings for Luca was a moment that was etched into my memory forever. It was a warm summer evening, and Adam had invited me over to hang out at their house. We were in the backyard, sitting around a crackling bonfire, the soft glow illuminating our faces as we roasted marshmallows and shared stories.

The atmosphere was relaxed and carefree, the air filled with the sweet scent of burning wood and the sound of laughter. As the night wore on, the conversation turned to crushes and relationships. Adam, being the cheeky younger brother, started teasing Luca about his love life, which he brushed off with a laugh.

"Come on, Luca, there must be someone you're interested in," Adam persisted, grinning mischievously.

Luca looked thoughtful for a moment, his eyes scanning the faces around the fire before they landed on mine. "Well, there is someone," he admitted, his eyes locking with mine, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down my spine.

I felt my heart skip a beat as I met his gaze, a rush of emotions flooding over me. My cheeks flushed with warmth, and I quickly looked away, trying to conceal the sudden intensity of my feelings. I tried to brush off my emotions, convincing myself that it was just a passing crush. But as the days turned into weeks, my feelings for Luca only grew stronger, consuming my thoughts and filling my dreams.

I found myself thinking about him constantly, replaying our conversations in my mind and longing for the next time I would see him. Every smile, every laugh, and every touch sent shivers down my spine, and I knew deep down that what I felt for Luca was more than just a crush.

I would catch myself stealing glances at him when he wasn't looking, admiring the way his eyes sparkled in the sunlight and the way his smile lit up his face. I would replay that moment by the bonfire over and over again, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions it had stirred within me.

It took me a while to come to terms with my feelings, but that summer evening by the bonfire was the moment I realized I was falling in love with Luca. And as scary as it was, it was also the most exhilarating feeling in the world, a secret thrill that I carried with me, treasuring it as my own little secret.

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The sun streamed through the leaves, casting a mosaic of light and shadow on the ground. I sat on the porch swing, swinging gently back and forth, lost in my thoughts. It was the usual spot where I would spend countless hours with Adam, my best friend and Luca's younger brother.

Adam and I had been inseparable since childhood. Our friendship was the kind that withstood every test of time and distance. We shared everything, from secrets to dreams and fears. And yet, there was one secret I had kept buried deep within me – my feelings for Luca, Adam's older brother.

Luca was different from anyone I had ever known. He was intelligent, witty, and had this irresistible charm that made everyone around him gravitate towards him. But what drew me to him the most was his kindness and the way he treated people with respect and genuine interest. Every time he smiled at me or brushed against my hand accidentally, my heart would skip a beat.

I knew it was wrong to feel this way about my best friend's brother. I had tried to push those feelings aside, convincing myself that it was just a silly crush that would fade away with time. But the more I tried to deny it, the stronger my feelings grew.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Adam's voice interrupted my thoughts, pulling me back to reality. He sat down beside me, concern etched on his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied, forcing a smile. "Just lost in thought, I guess."

Adam looked at me for a moment, as if trying to read my mind. "You've been acting strange lately. Is something bothering you?"

I hesitated, unsure if I should confide in him about my feelings for Luca. "It's nothing, Adam. Just some school stuff and… well, you know, the usual drama."

Adam seemed to buy my explanation, but I could tell he wasn't entirely convinced. "Alright, just remember, I'm here for you, okay?"

"Thanks, Adam," I said, feeling a pang of guilt for keeping my feelings a secret from him.

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As the days turned into weeks, my feelings for Luca became harder to ignore. Every time I saw him, my heart would race, and my palms would sweat. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hide my emotions, especially when Luca started spending more time with us, joining Adam and me on our usual adventures.

One evening, while we were all hanging out in Adam's backyard, Luca suggested we play a game of Truth or Dare. I hesitated for a moment, remembering the last time we played and the embarrassing dare I had to do. But before I could object, Adam eagerly agreed, and Luca set the rules.

As the game progressed, the dares became more daring, and the truths more revealing. I was starting to regret agreeing to play when it was my turn again.

"Y/N, truth or dare?" Luca asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Um, truth," I replied, not wanting to risk another embarrassing dare.

Luca grinned, leaning slightly forward as he asked, "Alright, who is your secret crush?"

My heart skipped a beat, and I felt my cheeks turn crimson. I glanced at Adam, who was watching me intently, waiting for my answer. A mischievous idea formed in my mind, and I couldn't resist the urge to make Luca just a little bit jealous.

"Jake from my English class," I said, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the hint of excitement in my voice.

Luca's grin faltered slightly, his eyes narrowing as he processed my answer. He cleared his throat, trying to mask his reaction. "Really? Jake, huh? I didn't know you liked him."

I could see a flash of something in Luca's eyes – was it surprise, or maybe a hint of jealousy? It was subtle, but I noticed it, and it gave me a thrill.

"Yeah, well, you learn something new every day," I said with a playful smirk, forcing a laugh as I turned my attention back to the game.

The atmosphere shifted subtly, a new tension forming between Luca and me. I could feel his gaze on me, a bit more intense than before, as if he was trying to figure out my true feelings. The game continued, but the dynamic had changed. There was a palpable distance between us now, a barrier I had unintentionally created by lying about my feelings.

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A few days had passed since the game of Truth or Dare, and I could feel a subtle shift in the dynamics between Luca and me. There was an unspoken tension, a distance that hadn't been there before. I knew I had to address the elephant in the room, but I wasn't sure how to bring it up.

One afternoon, I was in the kitchen making a sandwich when Luca walked in, his expression serious. He paused for a moment, studying me as if trying to read my thoughts.

"Y/N, can we talk?" he asked, his voice hesitant.

"Sure, what's on your mind?" I replied, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in my stomach.

Luca took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "I couldn't help but notice your reaction the other night during the game. When you mentioned Jake from your English class, it seemed... genuine. Do you really have a crush on him?"

I hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath before answering. "Yes, Luca, I do have a crush on Jake," I said, forcing myself to maintain eye contact with him.

Luca's expression faltered, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features. He looked down, running a hand through his hair, clearly struggling with his emotions.

"I see," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I felt a pang of guilt, realizing that my attempt to make Luca jealous had backfired. I took a step closer to him, reaching out to touch his arm gently.

"But that's not the whole truth," I admitted, my voice trembling slightly. "I said that to hide my true feelings. The truth is, I have feelings for someone else... someone I shouldn't."

Luca looked up, his eyes searching mine for clarity. "Who?"

I took a deep breath, summoning the courage to confess. "It's you, Luca. I have feelings for you."

There was a moment of silence as Luca processed my confession. His eyes widened, and he took a step back, clearly taken aback by my admission.

"Y/N... I don't know what to say," Luca stammered, his voice filled with a mixture of shock and confusion.

I felt my heart sink, regretting my decision to lie about Jake. "I'm sorry, Luca. I shouldn't have lied to you. I just didn't know how to admit my true feelings, and I thought it would be easier to pretend."

Luca sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I understand why you did it, but it doesn't make it any easier to hear."

I looked down, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "I'm so sorry, Luca. I never wanted to hurt you."

Luca reached out, gently lifting my chin to meet his gaze. "It's okay, Y/N. I appreciate your honesty, even if it took a little while to get there. We need to talk about this, but for now, let's just take some time to process everything, okay?"

I nodded, grateful for his understanding despite the mess I had created. "Okay, Luca. Thank you for being understanding."

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A few days had passed since our awkward kitchen conversation, and the tension between Luca and me had only grown. We had barely spoken since that day, both of us avoiding the elephant in the room. But today, it seemed like Luca was ready to address the situation.

We found ourselves alone in the living room, the soft glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the curtains. Luca took a deep breath, his eyes meeting mine as he began to speak.

"Y/N, we need to talk," he started, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "I've been doing some thinking, and I realized that I can't keep pretending anymore. I've been feeling something more than just friendship for you for a while now."

My heart skipped a beat, a rush of emotions flooding over me. The uncertainty and tension that had consumed me over the past few days were suddenly replaced by a glimmer of hope and excitement.

"Really?" I whispered, my voice trembling slightly.

Luca nodded, his smile growing more confident and genuine. "Yes, really. I was just too afraid to admit it because of Adam and everything."

A wave of relief washed over me, and I felt tears of happiness forming in my eyes. It was a moment of clarity and honesty, a turning point in our relationship that had been a long time coming.

"I feel the same way, Luca," I admitted, my voice filled with sincerity and affection. "I've been so scared to admit my feelings, especially after lying about Jake. But the truth is, I have feelings for you, and I don't want to hide them anymore."

Luca's smile widened, and he reached out to take my hand, his touch sending shivers down my spine. "I'm glad we're finally being honest with each other, Y/N.” He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as if gathering the courage to continue. "Y/N, I think I love you...?" he hesitated.

"Think?" I teased, trying to lighten the mood.

"Let's just say a ninety-nine percent chance," Luca clarified, his eyes searching mine for a reaction.

A smile spread across my face, my heart swelling with happiness. "I'll take it," I replied, my voice filled with warmth and affection.

His eyes lit up with relief and happiness as I responded. Luca pulled me into a gentle embrace, wrapping his arms around me as if to shield me from the world.

"I've been wanting to say that for so long, Y/N," he whispered, his voice soft and full of emotion.

I nestled my head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. "I've been feeling the same way, Luca. I just didn't know how to tell you."

He pulled back slightly to look into my eyes, his gaze filled with love and sincerity. "Well, now we don't have to hide our feelings anymore. I can't wait to see where this ninety-nine percent chance takes us."

I smiled up at him, feeling like the luckiest person in the world. "Me neither, Luca. Me neither."

Luca gently brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear and leaned down to kiss my forehead tenderly. "I promise to always be honest with you, Y/N, and to cherish every moment we have together."

#luca fantilli #luca fantilli x reader #umich hockey #hockey #luca fantilli x y/n

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toppersbitch · 1 year

Note

Okay okay I saw this prompt : Cry all you want… I’m starting to think you’re enjoying this.

Maybe your character somehow liking it when Sebastian used crucio on you?😭 idk

Cry All You Want // Sebastian Sallow x Reader

All underage characters are aged up to 18+!

Summary: Although you HATED having crucio cast on you, the way Sebastian cared for you after made you kind of like it…

Word Count: 600

Warnings: Hogwarts Legacy spoilers, changing of events and dialogue, kinda sadistic, torture, throw up

Prompt: “Cry all you want… I’m starting to think you’re enjoying this.”

-----------------------------

"I can teach you Crucio or I can cast it on you."

"Wait, you didn’t know how to cast crucio." Sebastian’s words took you aback. Why in Merlin’s beard did he know how to do that?

"Because I'm not sure I do," he retorted, "but Ominous has left us no choice; I don't want us to follow in Gaunt's footsteps; I can cast it if I have to," he gestured at himself, touching his chest.

"I won’t cast it on you; you have to cast it on me," you said, with almost no thoughts running through your mind before agreeing.

"I'm not going to forget this," he said, reaching out his hand to grab your shoulder.

You stood, preparing yourself for Sebastian to cast the spell; you couldn’t imagine the type of pain that was about to hit you. A curse you'd heard so much about, with so much fear attached to it.

"Ready?" You watched as he raised his wand, squeezing your eyes shut.

"I’m ready," you readied yourself, placing your feet apart and bracing yourself.

"Crucio!" Sebastian yelled, and you felt a blast push you back and a rush of aches and pains. It was debilitating; you wanted to run and hide, and you grabbed at your clothes. It burned and stung, and whatever other words you can think of to describe the pain. Your eyelids were bright red; that’s all you saw.

Then it finally stopped, all at once, with the pain still echoing through your body.

"Are you alright?" You heard a voice right beside you and felt a hand grab your arm. You flinched and smacked it away. You began to cry, whimpering, holding yourself in comfort.

"Hey," Sebastian said, wrapping his arms around you and rubbing his hand across your back.

Your body heaved against his as you cried; you could hear Ominous’s footsteps in the back. This definitely freaked him out. You let go of your stomach, wrapping your arms around Sebastian; it was the tightest embrace. You let your breath even out, tears slowed their flow, and your body felt nothing at all—such an odd sensation.

You took a deep breath, shakily letting it out. You moved back, slouching against the wall; your body was exhausted. You felt a churning sensation in your stomach. You closed your eyes and inhaled and exhaled deeply. Sebastian grabbed your hand, providing a sense of support. You grabbed on, turning to the side and allowing dinner to come up. You slouched once more, beginning to giggle in relief, first quietly, then loudly. Tears are still streaming down your face.

"What?" Sebastian questioned you, and you clutched your stomach, feeling the pain from laughing so hard, and you clutched Sebastian's arm, keeping you from rolling to the ground.

"Cry all you want; I'm starting to think you enjoyed it," he said, grabbing your shoulders to keep you steady.

"I did not enjoy that," you said, staring him dead in the eyes. Crucio was a miserable curse, and you hoped to never go through that again. But if Sebastian held you like that every time, it might not be the worst thing in the world to deal with.

"Then why are you laughing?" He was puzzled, his eyebrows furrowing. He wiped your leftover tears away, wiping them on his green robes.

"I just feel amazing now; I feel so light," you said, jumping up with a springy action. You were never going to tell Sebastian that you liked his touch. You just hoped he would do it again, even if that meant Crucio again.

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I hope this take on your request fulfills what you wanted, I can't imagine anyone liking Crucio being cast on them haha <3

My other stuff can be found HERE <3

Check out my other stuff HERE

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spidey-x-male-reader · 7 months

Note

How about Jason Todd x male reader who's a werewolf? And who's transfortation during the full moon is incredibly painful, to the point that he's writhing on the floor, howling and whining like a wild animal?

Just Jason comforting his boyfriend as he shifts, not leaving his side until it's over, holding him as he cries, letting him know that he's okay, brushing his fur with his hands and just being so gentle, like reader was made of glass.

Pairing: Jason Todd x male werewolf reader

Summary: It's full moon and Jason is there to comfort you

A/N: Who knew that I was even able to write something?? Big surprise for all of us, huh?

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

MASTERLIST

The full moon hung high in the night sky, casting an eerie glow over Gotham City. As if Gotham wasn’t scary enough already, Jason knew that tonight there would be another danger. At least you told him so. He still refused to ever see you as any kind of danger for anyone.

Jason sat on the couch in one of his safe houses, watching you pace up and down.

“(y/n). It’s gonna be okay.”

“I’m just…I should have stayed alone. Like usual. I…what if I hurt you? If something happened to you–”

He stood up, carefully putting his arms around you. “Trust me. You won’t hurt me.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.” The look in his eyes showed nothing but pure determination.

You started feeling a deep tug inside your body, like something was ripping you apart from the inside. You doubled over, your knees almost giving out under you. “It’s…it’s starting.”

“It’s okay, love. I’m right here.” Jason spoke in a calm tone even though you saw the worried expression on his face. You quickly realized that he wasn’t worried about you hurting him though, he was worried about you being in pain.

Jason's heart ached as he saw the one he loved in so much pain, howling and whining like a wild animal. He knew how much the transformation hurt, and he couldn't bear to see his boyfriend in such pain.

When your knees gave out under you and you could do nothing else than roll yourself together on the floor, trying to get through the pain, he immediately moved to sit down next to you, not thinking about his own safety for a moment.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Jason whispered soothingly as he knelt beside his boyfriend. He gently stroked your hair, trying to provide some comfort amidst the pain. "I'm here with you. You're not alone."

Your body continued to contort and change, but Jason refused to leave your side. He held onto your trembling form, offering words of reassurance and love. "You're strong, and you can get through this. I'm right here, babe."

You were used to people leaving at this point. Or running. Sometimes it was because they became terrified. Sometimes they were just disgusted because of the way your transformation took place and your body contorted.

But Jason stayed. He didn’t move away. Not for a second.

Tears streamed down your face as the transformation continued. It always felt so endless long, no matter how many times it happened.

Jason wiped the tears away with tender care. He knew that the pain was unbearable, but he was determined to be there for you every step of the way.

As the transformation finally completed, you were lying on the floor, panting heavily. Your body was now covered in fur, and your golden eyes looked up at Jason with a mix of gratitude and exhaustion. There was something angry and animalistic in there too but Jason didn’t even flinch. He just continued to stroke your fur, his touch gentle and loving.

"It's over now," Jason murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your furry forehead. "You did great, my love. I'm so proud of you."

You nuzzled a bit closer to Jason, finding comfort in his embrace. You pressed into his side as he put an arm around you, putting some of his weight on you. Neither of you were scared of the other even if you probably should be.

It was the first time in years of these transformations that you actually felt safe while you were transformed. You felt calm. You had no urge to kill Jason. You just wanted to have him close.

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, as the full moon cast its glow outside. In that moment, all that mattered was the love and support you found in each other.

“Has anyone ever told you that your fur is really soft?” Jason whispered, softly moving his fingers through your fur, careful not to pull.

Jason looked at you like you were something beautiful to appreciate.

“I could get used to this…” he mumbled while leaning a bit on you, using you like a pillow.

Yeah…you could get used to this too.

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heavenlylie · 5 months

Text

how you lost the girl - part 2

pairing: jenna ortega x fem!reader

summary: Jenna's unexpected return forces you to reflect on the choices that led to the events of the past.

warnings: this is sad..

word count: 2.2k

a/n: i wasn’t going to make a part two but here we are! i wanted that angst to be resolved but i got carried away again so...

The alarm buzzes, but you don't stir. Your heart aches for her warmth. Your eyes remain closed, mind clouded by dreams of Jenna's soft skin and the sound of her laughter.

Three weeks had passed since the day you last laid eyes on the brown-eyed brunette. Her sudden reappearance in your life reignited old feelings within you, making you question yourself and all of the decisions that led to this moment.

The morning sun streams through the window, casting long shadows across the empty room, it's eerily quiet without Jenna's presence. The air is stale and heavy, clinging to the walls like a shroud that refuses to be shaken off. The sheets are cold where she used to lay, the side of the bed that she had claimed, still holding onto the heat from her body.

The closet door creaks as it opens and closes, revealing the neat row of sweatpants and shirts that once were pressed against Jenna's curves. The room feels cavernous without her. If only she hadn’t showed up, you were doing just fine without her. Why'd she have to just show up at your door after all this time?

You dressed slowly, each movement deliberate and calculated, as if you were walking through water, trying so hard not to think of her. You pour yourself a bowl of cereal, the milk swirling softly as you stir it into the bowl, but there's no joy in the simple act. The spoon clinks against the ceramic as you eat, each bite tasting like ashes in your mouth.

You look out the window, but all you see is the blue sky and the trees with orange leaves - a reminder that winter is approaching, and Jenna isn't there to share it with you. The day drags on as you go about your routine, each task feeling hollow and meaningless.

The weight of Jenna's absence hangs heavy in every corner of your existence. The once vibrant colours that adorned your life have now faded to muted shades as if the world itself mourns her absence. Each passing moment only intensifies the ache within you, the longing for her touch consuming your every thought.

In an attempt to distract yourself from the overwhelming emptiness, you decide to take a walk through the park. The crunch of fallen leaves beneath your feet echoes in the silence, a haunting symphony that mirrors the broken rhythm of your heart. As you wander aimlessly along the winding path, memories of Jenna flood your mind.

You remember how she used to laugh, her melodic voice weaving through the air like magic. Every joke was accompanied by a playful twinkle in her eyes, and the sound of her laughter was enough to make your soul soar. But now, even the echoes of her laughter feel distant and unattainable.

Lost in your reverie, you find yourself standing before the place where you had your first date with Jenna. The wooden slats of the bench have weathered over time, but the memories of that day remain vivid in your mind.

You can still feel the nervous excitement that coursed through your veins as you sat down beside her, unsure of what the future held for the two of you.

A bittersweet smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you take a seat on the bench. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to be transported back to that moment. The scent of freshly cut grass mixed with the subtle fragrance of Jenna's perfume fills your nostrils. The warmth of her hand in yours sends a tingle up your spine, igniting a fire within you that still burns, despite her absence.

"I didn't know what was your favourite fruit," Jenna said, pulling out a big Tupperware with a variety of fruits. "So I just brought a fruit salad." She said with an awkward chuckle, scared of your reaction to her extreme efforts to give you the best first date experience.

Things might’ve gotten a bit out of hand; the picnic at sunset in a secluded area of the national park, the different types of food just in case you had an allergy, small pillows to make sure you were comfortable, fairy lights on the bench behind you and across the blanked she had placed on the grass.

You couldn't help but smile at Jenna's gesture, feeling a surge of warmth filling the void within you. Her thoughtfulness and attention to detail were part of what drew you to her in the first place. As you picked up a piece of fruit from the Tupperware, you marvelled at the explosion of flavours in your mouth - a perfect blend of sweetness and tartness.

"I love it," you replied, your voice filled with sincerity. "You didn't have to go through all this trouble, but I'm glad you did."

Jenna's eyes sparkled with joy as she leaned closer, her lips brushing against your cheek in a gentle kiss. The softness of her touch sent shivers down your spine, reigniting the fire within you that had been dampened by her absence.

As the sun began to set behind the mountains, casting a warm orange glow over the park, you and Jenna sat in comfortable silence. The chatter of birds and rustling of leaves provided a soothing soundtrack to your thoughts.

"I wanted to make this day special," Jenna whispered, her voice laced with vulnerability. And she had succeeded. From the thoughtful picnic to the stunning view of the sunset, everything about this day was perfect.

You turned towards Jenna and took her hand in yours, interlacing your fingers with hers. "It's more than special," you said, sincerity dripping from your words.

Jenna's smile widened as she leaned in for a kiss. But just as your lips were about to meet, a loud noise shattered the peaceful atmosphere. You both pulled away, startled by the sudden disturbance.

"What was that?" you asked, scanning your surroundings for any signs of danger.

"It sounded like fireworks," Jenna said, pointing towards the sky where colourful sparks were now lighting up the darkening sky.

"Fireworks?" you echoed in confusion.

Jenna grinned mischievously. "I may have arranged for a surprise fireworks show," she admitted sheepishly.

Despite yourself, a laugh escaped your lips. "You really went all out for this date."

Jenna shrugged nonchalantly. "I just wanted it to be perfect for you."

As you watched the dazzling display before you, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by Jenna's thoughtfulness and love for you. At that moment, surrounded by nature and with Jenna by your side, you realized that this was where you belonged – with her.

The last firework faded into darkness and there was nothing left but the sound of crickets chirping in the distance. You turned back to Jenna and cupped her face in your hands before leaning in for a soft kiss.

"This has been an amazing day," you said as you pulled away. Jenna smiled, her eyes shining with affection. "I'm glad you think so," she replied, her voice filled with warmth. "But I have a feeling that this is just the beginning of something even more incredible."

The words hung in the air, heavy with possibility. You gazed into Jenna's eyes, seeing a future filled with love and adventure.

The emptiness that had haunted you earlier was now replaced with hope and anticipation.

"I think you're right," you said, your voice steady with conviction. "I'm excited to find out what the future holds for us."

Jenna leaned in closer, her breath mingling with yours as she whispered, "Me too."

In that moment, time seemed to stand still. The world around you faded away as your lips met in a kiss that spoke volumes. It was a kiss filled with promises and dreams, sealing the bond between you and Jenna.

With an exhale, you open your eyes and gaze out at the park. Children laugh and play on the playground, their innocent joy serving as a stark contrast to the heaviness in your heart. You watch as couples walk hand in hand along the path, their love radiating from them like a warm embrace. A pang of longing shoots through you, a reminder of what you once had with Jenna.

It has been months since that perfect first date in the park. Months since Jenna brought light and laughter back into your life. But circumstances beyond your control forced you to part ways, leaving only memories and unspoken promises behind.

As you sit on the weathered bench, the weight of Jenna's absence becomes unbearable once again. The once vibrant colours of the park seem dull and lifeless.

You find yourself wondering if you made the right decision and if letting go of Jenna was truly for the best. The taste of regret lingers in your mouth like bitter medicine, seeping into every crevice of your being. You can't help but question if you will ever find happiness again.

"That is the most stupid Halloween costume I've ever seen!" You said laughing at Jenna's costume as she twirled around in her makeshift ghost attire. She had draped a white sheet over herself, cutting out two eye holes and a crooked mouth that seemed to dance with mischief.

Jenna's laughter mingled with yours, filling the air with joy. "I thought it would be fun to go as a classic ghost, you know, for old times' sake," she said, her voice muffled by the sheet. "Plus, it's easy to put together."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in your chest as you watched her playfully float around the room. Despite the heaviness in your heart, Jenna had always been able to bring a smile to your face. It was as if her presence alone had the power to chase away the shadows that lingered within you.

As the night grew darker and eerie jack-o-lanterns flickered in the distance, you and Jenna ventured out into the neighbourhood, hand in hand. The air was crisp with a hint of autumn, carrying the scent of fallen leaves and the promise of Halloween mischief. Children ran from house to house, their laughter echoing through the streets as they collected candy in their baskets.

Jenna's excitement was contagious, her eyes sparkling with childlike wonder. She would skip ahead every now and then, her ghostly sheet billowing behind her as she approached each house. You couldn't help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm.

As you walked together, memories flooded your mind - memories of past Halloweens, carving pumpkins and getting lost in corn mazes. Halloween had always been your favourite holiday, and Jenna knew just how to make it even more magical.

You stopped in front of a house decorated with cobwebs and fake spiders, a cauldron of candy sitting on the front porch. Jenna turned to you with a mischievous smile hidden beneath her ghostly disguise. "Trick or treat?" she asked, her voice filled with love.

You chuckled and nudged her playfully. "Come on, Jenna. You're not fooling anyone with that ghost costume." Jenna's eyes widened in mock surprise as she slowly closed the space between you two. "Oh no, my secret identity has been revealed!" she exclaimed, feigning distress but with a loving look on her face.

You couldn't help but be captivated by Jenna's playful spirit. The way she embraced the whimsy and magic of Halloween, reminded you of all the reasons why you fell in love with her in the first place. At that moment, standing under the dim glow of the porch light, you felt an overwhelming surge of nostalgia mixed with a renewed sense of hope.

You reached out, your fingers gently pulling back the sheet that concealed Jenna's face. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and love, and you couldn't resist leaning in to capture her lips in a tender kiss. It was a kiss filled with shared memories and unspoken promises - a reminder that even though time had passed, your connection was still strong.

As you pulled away, Jenna's ghost costume slipping off her shoulders, you were struck by how beautiful she looked in that moment - vulnerable yet radiant. "I think I love you," you whispered, your voice brimming with emotion.

Jenna's eyes widened in surprise, her lips parting slightly as she took in your words. A soft smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and the air between you seemed to crackle with an electric intensity.

"I think I love you too," she murmured, her voice barely audible against the cacophony of laughter and whispers echoing through the night. Her confession hung between you, delicate and shimmering like a spider's web spun with moonlight.

In that instant, all doubt and uncertainty melted away. The weight of regret that had plagued you vanished, replaced by a sense of purpose and determination. You knew deep down that this moment was a turning point.

That was last year, Halloween was just around the corner again and you knew it wouldn't be the same without her. The memories of that magical night with Jenna still haunted your thoughts, and the ache in your heart grew stronger with each passing day.

The thought of Halloween without her by your side was absolutely soul-crushing. You had tried to move on, to fill the void left by Jenna's absence, but no one could compare to her. She was the light in your life, the one who made every moment feel like an adventure.

As the days grew colder and the leaves turned shades of orange and gold, you found yourself wandering through the streets, feeling lost without Jenna's hand in yours. The world seemed to carry on around you, oblivious to the emptiness that consumed your heart.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna x reader

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 6 months

Note

I discovered your blog a little bit ago (back when your requests were off) and got super excited when I saw that you wanted a Sam Winchester request!

So I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader is insecure about her stretch marks, but Sam reassures her and shows her that he has stretch marks too from growing so quickly and much when he was a kid going from tiny to giant in like a snap. Reader is obsessed with them now that she’s seen them (and wants to lick them ;)) snd there’s so much appreciation on both sides. Thank you so much!

Love your writing!

.⋆｡Natural Matching Tattoos｡⋆.

Sam Winchester x plus size reader

You never liked your body but you love Sam and he adores every part of you so maybe you should let him show you just how incredible you are

Warnings: self deprecation, fat phobic thoughts, stretch marks, fear of rejection, fluff, implied smut, reassurance

WC: 997

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Hunting was apparently not a great form of exercise, you thought as you stood in front of your full length mirror dressed in nothing besides a bra that should’ve been thrown out years ago and your laundry day underwear. With a critical eye, you glared at the overhang of your stomach, the seam between your thighs where there should have been a gap but especially the shimmery skin stretched too far along your body.

You tilted your head as you traced those lines with the tips of your fingers. How many things had you tried to get rid of them? How many years have you spent avoiding mirrors just because of this? You sighed dejectedly, your entire body sagging with the weight of your hate. You were exhausted with it, it ate away at you until there was only a speck of the love you once had for the body you inhabited.

“Princess, have you seen my- oh.” Light from the hallway streamed into your room, casting a new light upon yourself which you immediately turned away from, and instead met the deep hazel eyes of your barely official boyfriend. Sam filled the doorway, his presence overwhelming.

“Sam.” You could barely breathe out his name with the massive weight of shame sitting on your chest. You felt his gaze burning into your skin as he took in every inch of your mostly naked body. Your vision wavered as tears began to build.

Yet he said nothing. “I-“ But no more words would come. This was what you feared most, that he would finally realise that he could do so much better than you, that you could never compare to Jess or Eileen or even Ruby. As you braced yourself for heartbreak, Sam stepped closer, lost in a trance.

Your arms curled around your stomach and you looked away, squeezing your eyes shut. Your fingers brushed the tell-tale smoothness of some of your stretch marks and suddenly you wanted to scream. Why couldn’t you just be fucking normal, you wanted to shout at yourself, why couldn’t you just lose the weight before he saw you naked for the first time. You expected to hear him insult you or say that you had a pretty face for someone so big, but then, just like he always managed to, Sam surprised you.

Far softer than you could ever imagine a man like him to be capable of, Sam cupped your forearms, prying them away from your body and leaving you vulnerable to him. You whimpered under your breath. There was a moment of quiet where all you could hear was his heavy breathing and your own pounding heartbeat and then-

“Gorgeous.”

His large hands hovered over your hips like he was handling a piece of precious artwork. The calloused tips of his fingers grazed the fat along your pelvis in reverence. “I always thought you were beautiful, but now, I can’t believe that you’re real.”

“Sam-“ Part of you wanted to stop him, to push away his affections but the way he cradled you and looked at you with those big hazel puppy dog eyes, you didn’t think you had the strength to stop him. He gave you that stupid grin of his that showed off his dimples and made his entire body light up. “But my stretch marks.” You managed to stammer out as some sort of last ditch effort to get him to realise the truth.

Finally he laid his hands on your skin and your mouth snapped shut. His thumbs brushed against said stretch marks, leaving behind a warm, buzzing sensation that you could feel in your bones. “What about them?” He murmured but you could tell that he was already lost in the texture of your skin.

“They’re ugly.” You admitted like it was some shameful secret. Sam froze for a moment and gazed deeply into your eyes.

“You really think that?” You nodded. Your skin was cold where he let go of your hips, it made you wish that you had just kept your mouth shut and let him love those parts of you that you hated.

You jolted forward to try and grab at his hands but they were already pulling at the buttons of his flannel with a determined look on his face. You gave an embarrassed squeak as suddenly, Sam was topless in front of you, his perfectly sculpted torso so achingly close to your hands. “Then you must think mine are ugly too then.”

In the soft light of your bedside lamp, you could see the silvery lines that trailed up his slim hips, starkly contrasted against his tanned skin. They were almost identical to your own and they were beautiful, like silver threads that had been placed upon him like jewels. You couldn’t help but reach out to them, desperate to feel them beneath your hands.

Sam chuckled deeply in his chest but did not try to stop you as you laid your palms flat against his toned stomach. “How?” Was all you could manage to say besides something else incredibly impolite about your boyfriend’s body.

“I’m 6’4 princess, and Dean will absolutely attest to the fact that I grew over a foot in one summer. I was bound to get some stretch marks.” You hummed, now understanding why Sam had been so distracted by your own body moments before. “Still think stretch marks are ugly?”

You shook your head without hesitation and he beamed. “’S like we have matching tattoos.”

A soft kiss was pressed to your temple as he once more wrapped you in his arms to hold you close. “That’s my girl.” You sank into his embrace, content and warm. The weight of your insecurities was slightly lessened with someone you so dearly loved taking some of the burden and you couldn’t be happier about it. Well, there was one thing.

“Can I lick ‘em?” Sam’s laugh reverberated through the room.

“Only if I can lick yours.”

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writingsbychlo · 1 year

Text

UNDER THE MISTLETOE (day five)

summary; after getting caught up in a certain tradition, you and az face the outcome on the other side.

word count; 11,036

notes; kick your feet and giggle fluff. you've been warned.

You watched carefully as the wax before you melted, hands joined and propped under your chin, watching as glittery black beads slowly began to pale, swirls of silver sparkling throughout like the night sky. Sitting beside you, signing addresses onto all of the cards you’d spent the morning writing together.

The candle flickered, casting shadows across the room as the wax continued to soften, and Azriel pushed the final folded letter towards the pile you’d created.

“Staring at that wax awful hard, you got a lot on your mind?” You could only hum, turning to face him and watching the sparkle in his eyes as the flame flickered behind you. The truth was quite the opposite. There was nothing on your mind.

For what felt like the first time in a very, very long time, you were entirely at peace. No unmitigated anxieties or lingering problems, no stressful scenarios or job lists to be ticked off the following day. This morning, when you woke up once again tangled in Azriel’s arms, his face almost tucked into your neck, you were happy.

There had been a crumple from his pillow along his cheek that had lasted the entirety of your shared breakfast, his hair still messy even now, as a second hour passed and the unmade bedsheets had grown cold. You’d been waiting for an update on the storm situation, after dragging open the curtains only to find the glass entirely frosted over, stacked over halfway up with snow.

The fire had been burning steadily since, the logs crackling as the room was flooded with warmth.

“Wanna’ talk about it?” He raised a hand, brushing one knuckle over the back of your cheek, his brows dipping in confusion.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Az. I’m just happy.” A smile tugged at the edges of Azriel’s lips even if his brows dipped further. “I slept so well. I woke up, with no stress, no worries, just happy.”

“Shadowsinger, spymaster, dreamcatcher. It has quite a ring to it.” He murmured, your scoff breaking the quiet between you both, and it quickly descended into giggles.

“I was thinking it was more this vacation, thank you very much.” Turning back to inspect the wax, it was just short of two hot, your lips pursing to blow out a thin stream of air to extinguish the candle, as he let out a pained moan, clutching his heart.

“You mean it’s not my fantastic cuddling? I’m so offended.” Your eyes rolled, laying out a series of letters before yourself and scooping up the bowl, a small serving of molten wax dripping onto the paper before yourself. “Fine, since my services aren’t needed, I’ll sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“You do that. You snore anyway.” You passed the latter across to him, watching as he tugged free the ring from his thumb, a signet ring with his initial sitting firmly in the centre alongside the Night Court crest, a gift from Rhysand, so long ago. “Maybe now I’ll actually get some sleep.”

Stamping shut the first letter, he gasped, smothering his chuckle and accepting the second latter you sent his way, peeling the ring away carefully only to mark the next, a system forming between you both. “Oh, that’s how you want to play it?”

“I’m merely stating facts.” You both knew it was a lie, Azriel was as stealthy in his sleep as he was awake, snoozing so quietly beside you that you’d miss him in the dark, shrouded by his shadows for protection, if he wasn’t wrapped around you. He may be silent in his sleep, but he wasn’t still.

When he slept, you’d found Azriel would still hold you tight. If you moved, he moved, his body followed your own, seeking you out even subconsciously, keeping as much of you pressed to him as possible. Wandering hands, clinging touches, needy caresses.

Azriel, the feared shadowsinger, was a sleep cuddler.

“Alright. Well, maybe I’ll actually get some sleep, without all your twitching. Did you know you move around when you sleep, you’re a vivid dreamer.” He shot back, a smirk pulling at the edge of his lips.

“I know, I can’t help it, I have some pretty thrilling dreams about Cassian.” His jaw dropped, and you could see it out of the corner of your eye as you dripped wax onto the final letter, swirling it around into a perfect circle for him to stamp. As he took the letter, he snatched it with a huff, your victory only sitting stronger over him.

“Wait ‘til I tell Nesta.” His final comment was an unofficial surrender to the battle of wit, and he scowled at you as you glanced up, turning to face him in your chair.

“Who says Nesta’s not in those dreams too? Maybe I need two, I’m a lot to handle.”

“Don’t I know it.” His voice was low, so low you almost missed it, innuendo laced through his words that you didn't quite understand, but you weren’t given much time to contemplate it. A knock at the door broke you from your thoughts, the sound bouncing around the inside of the room, and excitement spiked within your chest.

The last knock had been merely to collect your breakfast dishes, a promise soon of an update on the weather conditions and your plans for the day, your feet flying cross the floor to receive it as Azriel followed closely behind. He all but crashed into your back as you paused at the door, swinging it open, to reveal Viv standing on the other side.

Pressing up behind you, Azriel’s heat flooded across your back, wings wrapping around you a little, and the woman glanced between you both, the smile on her lips only growing as she took you in. You felt underdressed somehow, even though she was in pyjamas just the same as your own, hair braided neatly over one shoulder, she still somehow managed to look regal, even in sweatpants.

“We’re snowed in.”

It was the exact news you’d been expecting, and yet as she truly confirmed it, your heart sank a little. The weather was always going to be unpredictable, at this time of year, in this Court especially, and yet with so little time here, you didn’t want to miss a single day. As if sensing your disappointment, Azriel ran his hand comfortingly down your spine, before settling it on your hip with a squeeze.

Vivianne wrung her hands together, but never dropped her smile, only letting it become more conspiratorial. “Kal and I were thinking it would be fun to have a game day. Very informal, we can stay in our pyjamas and make snacks. Most of the staff will be out of the palace helping to clear the roads and pathways to the town, the palace is quite low on the priority list for that. Are you feeling up to it?”

“Can we make hot chocolate?” Azriel’s deep voice echoed from above you, a chuckle spilling from Vivianne’s lips, and you turned to look at him, brows raising, and he only shrugged as he looked down at you. “Don’t act like you didn’t know I have a sweet tooth, sugar.”

A blush flared over your cheeks at the nickname, and you rolled your eyes to cover its effect, turning back to your friend instead. “You had me at snacks, and apparently, had Azriel at hot chocolate. We’re in.”

“Fantastic.” Her hands clapped together, excitement clear as day. “Shall we meet at the base of the stairs in a couple of minutes, then?”

You agreed, the door closing a second later, and as you backed away from it, your body pressed into Azriel’s, forcing him to back up with you. As your body came up to his own, the hand on your hip slipped all the way around your waist, tugging you in a spin as he turned towards the bed, your feet leaving the floor, and a giggle leaving your lips.

“Azriel! Put me down!”

Your toes nudged at the floor, scraping as you kicked, but he wasn’t letting go until he was throwing you down onto the bed, your body bouncing as he passed you by. You rolled across the still unmade sheets, scrabbling to get back at him, and he only grinned wickedly as he closed the door connecting your rooms in your face, holding the handle firmly against you on the other side.

“Hey! You brute!”

“That was for teasing me before Vivianne came to the door. You wanna’ talk about Cass, I’ll treat you like Cass would.” Your cheeks flushed with heat, palm slapping against the door, but there was no stopping the laughter that spilled from your lips. Cassian had never been shy about his manhandling, whether it be throwing you and Nesta around in training, lifting you out of his way in the Townhouse’s narrow corridors, or simply throwing you over his shoulder when you were too drunk to stumble home from Rita’s.

Backing away from the door and mumbling under your breath, his own muted laughter on the other side of the door faded away as you both prepared for the day. You straightened out your bedsheets from their crumpled positions, a hand smoothing across your oversized t-shirt on your way to the bathroom.

By the time you’d finished washing your face and combing your hair, you found Azriel lounging on your bed, lay across it on his stomach, tapping his fingers in boredom as he waited. He’d changed his pyjamas, a new pair of black sweatpants and a matching black t-shirt, which hugged his shoulders unfairly tightly and was almost strained around the thick biceps on display.

“I just made that bed.”

“Oh, because beds can never be remade. How much money you must be wasting buying new sheets every single day.” He mumbled, sliding down to the floor and tugging pathetically on one corner to smooth out the wrinkles, and you scoffed through a laugh as you made your way over to get a pair of fluffy socks from the drawer. You’d only brought a few pairs, not expecting to ever actually wear them outside of the bedroom, and you dug around for the best pair as Azriel shuffled over to join you. “Can I borrow a pair of those?”

You glanced down at his feet, noting the grey socks he already wore. “You’ve got socks on.”

“Yeah, but these look cosier.” He snatched out a pair of pale blue ones, with sparkly thread throughout, and you snatched them right back before he could get too attached. “Hey! Sharing is caring.”

“You’ll stretch them out with your big fuckin’ feet! You’re already ruining a perfectly good t-shirt with your shoulders.” He dropped a look down at himself, flexing his chest and arms unnecessarily.

“Thanks for noticing.”

“I was insulting you.” You spat back, tongue sticking out, and he only hummed.

“You have to be looking to have noticed anything to insult.” He tapped on the tip of your nose, and you turned away from him, hopping a little as you tugged each sock onto your feet, wiggling your toes and letting him balance you with a hand on each shoulder. When your feet were taken care of, you only had your arms to take care of now, not being gifted with the same resistance to the cold that Azriel was, and you swiped up a hoodie that was lying over the back of the couch.

It was in your hands for barely two full seconds, before he was pulling it away.

“That’s mine.”

“Wha- give it back! I’m cold.” He only shrugged, hanging it over his arm, and his eyes twinkled with unknown mischief as you spluttered. “You’re not even using it!”

“So? You’re not using the fluffy blue socks, and yet you won’t let me have those. If I must get frostbite, you get hypothermia.”

Your arms crossed over your chest, unwanting to give in, but you were stubborn. You’d set your heart on that jumper now, and when his cheeky smile grew, you were willing to give in just to stop it getting any wider. “Fine! You can wear the blue socks. I guess I’ll use them as a sleeping bag on my next mission away, when you’ve ruined them!”

He handed over the jumper with a beam, lifting it to your head and hanging it around your neck, before leaving you to do the arms as he retrieved the socks. After successfully shoving his feet into them and tucking them under the cuffs of his pants, he offered you his hand, wiggling his fingers at you and taking your palm.

Tugging you along and out of the room, Vivianne and Kallias were already gathered at the bottom of the steps when you reached them. Viv was chatting excitedly, while Kal simply watched his wife, tucking a stray strand of white hair behind her ear before cutting her rambling off with a sweet kiss.

Your heart clenched, and Azriel’s hand squeezed your own. Perhaps he felt the same way, the same happiness but sadness, the balance of adoration for your friends at finding one another, but longing for yourself. It would be nice to not feel so alone in those emotions.

Azriel rustled his wings, a subtle sound but loud enough to gain their attention, both of them pulling apart just to look up, smiling widely as they saw you. “Sorry, we got caught. Had to kiss, I’m afraid.”

Viv shrugged, and Kallias only chuckled, even as his pale cheeks grew pink, and you came to a stop before them, brows raising. “You got caught?”

“Under the mistletoe.” She said, like that cleared anything up, and she pointed over your heads, to the sparkly sprig of greenery hanging from the high archway.

“I hate to break it to you, but you have weeds growing in your house.” Azriel supplied, and you waved a hand idly in the direction of his body, a soft ‘oof’ leaving him as you smacked his solid stomach, and he nudged you with your linked arms in return. “That wasn’t there last night.”

“It’s magic mistletoe,” Kallias added, the confusion only growing more, and you gasped as you watched it disappear from over your heads, fading away in a puff of glittering white. “It moved around all over the palace, we have several set up. I’m surprised you haven’t seen any yet.”

“I warded their rooms,” Vivianne explained, taking her husband’s hand much the same way Azriel held your own, guiding you along halls you had yet to venture down, leaving you and your companion to follow after her in confusion.

“It's a tradition here in Winter.” Kal glanced over his shoulder, shrugging a little. “You hang mistletoe at Christmas, and if you get caught under it with someone, you have to kiss them.”

“But it’s just a poisonous plant?” Azriel spoke, and wanted to roll your eyes, swearing he wasn’t cut out for a life as a courtier, if it wasn’t for the pale-haired man’s laugh at his bluntness. Somehow, Azriel seemed to have won Kallias over, the two making for fast friends.

“I know.”

“So, why? What's the story there?” You pressed a little more, curiosity biting in deep, and as Vivianne threw open a set of double doors to an impressive, empty kitchen, she spun to you with a smile.

“How about I tell you all about it while we bake?”

She gathered pots and pans, various ingredients were produced which Kallias was quick to take from her hands, measuring the quantities himself and beginning to divide them up, as you gathered around the central island ready to hear the story.

“It all started with the goddess of love, and her favourite child. He was the god of light.”

“Doesn’t it always start with a god, or love, or both?” Azriel mused, brushing his lips over your hairline to hide his amusement, your cheeks flushing as Viv only watched him, a gentler smile pulling on her features as he left a kiss on your hair.

“She loved her son so much that she wanted to protect him against everything, so that he could never be harmed.” As Kallias handed her a bowl, and passed one to Azriel too, she began to tell you of the goddess, of the God of Sunlight’s adventures, his highs and lows that led him to need such protection.

She spun a fascinating tale, you were so caught up in it that you could barely stir your own mixture, tipping the chocolate chips into the batter when it was ready without ever taking your eyes from her.

“So, she spoke to every animal, and person, and plant. She made everything pledge to never harm him, to protect him at all costs, but she forgot pretty little mistletoe.” She tutted, your heart beating and hand stilling in the bowl as the true excitement of her folklore tale began. Azriel took the bowl, from you, pulling it closer to himself to keep the work going, and you only leaned closer to his side in silent thanks as you continued to listen.

“So mistletoe killed him because it was forgotten?”

“A trickster killed him.” She corrected, wagging a finger at you for your impatience. “One of the tricksters realised her mistake, and fashioned an arrow out of mistletoe. That arrow was shot straight into his heart, and he died.”

“But why did the trickster do it?”

“Why do tricksters do anything?” To cause chaos. The Night Court had much mythology of its own, regarding tricksters and demons and things that go ‘bump’ in the night, all revolving around making sure children behaved.

This story was shaping up to have a far more romantic notion.

She took a break there, leaving you to hang in suspense as the four of you worked to divide gather and shape up cookies, fling tray after tray in the oven until you had more snacks than you’d possibly be able to eat. She was loading pots into the sink for later, Kallias setting a timer on the ovens, and Azriel was leaning back against the counter.

Tugging you closer to him, his arms banded around your body as your back met his chest, his chin propping on the top of your head as he spoke; “So, how does any of that make a tradition about kissing?”

You let out a steady breath at his question, the cliffhanger you’d been left on finally coming to an end, and you settled your arms atop his as you leaned back into him, both eager to hear the rest of the story.

“The goddess was distraught, her favourite child had died. But she was a goddess of love, she did not seek revenge. Instead, she cried to the mistletoe, and her tears made white berries grow. When her son died, he took the sunlight with him, and so came the long days of Winter. He died at what you call Winter solstice, and what we call Christmas.”

Kallias joined the pair of you, slinging an arm around her waist. You felt like a child as she spoke of all the changes, of the way mistletoe began to grow, of the goddess seeking out every last shoot of it.

“She enchanted that too, to be the strongest love of all, that anybody caught underneath it should embrace one another in love, not anger or pain. Even enemies on the battlefield would put down their weapons and embrace, and call a truce for that day.”

“Cassian will be thrilled, we’ll buy him enough for a farm, and he can kiss all of our foes into submission.” Your joke brought laughter from them all, but the deep laughter by your ear was the one that left you breathless, a warm puff of air over your cheek. It terrified you, feeling so comfortable in his embrace, it made you want to run, and yet, it also made you want to stay. Hearing a tale of love, wrapped in his arms, leaving you breathless and your heart racing.

“After that, it became a symbol of love. New relationships would share their first kiss underneath it, for good luck. Married couples,” She gave a glance at her husband, who only placed his lips on her forehead in response, “kiss under it to maintain a happy marriage. Parents kiss their newborns to show them their love. It is tradition. You can never be angry under the mistletoe, and you must always show your love.”

“Perhaps we should take some home with us, let Elain grow it. It would make such a lovely addition to Solstice.”

Azriel only hummed in agreement, clearly contemplating it, and your reverie was broken by the first of the timers going off. The smell of sugar and baked goods filled the air as soon as the door was open, steam pouring out as Kallias’ gloved hand retrieved the first tray, perfectly baked cookies steaming on the metal sheet.

Together, the four of you worked, scooping up treats from trays to plates, icing and decorating as they cooled, hot chocolate being made, dishes washed, and the kitchen cleaned, until you were all ready to go for your game day.

You gathered the last of the gingerbread cookies, piling them up onto a plate with your poorly decorated chocolate chip cookies and some pastries, Kallias took the large platter from your hands. As you stared at it, it became more and more obvious why none of your career paths had veered towards baking. It was a sad attempt, but it was fun nonetheless, and as long as they were edible, you’d have fun.

Kallias led the way with the food, Viv following quickly after him as she attempted to snatch a cookie from the tray as he swept it out of her reach, the two bickering as they walked. Turning to your best friend, a laugh bubbled up in your throat when your gaze landed on him.

“What?”

“You’ve got icing on your face.”

He dipped his head, rubbing his cheek against his shoulder, utterly failing to get the smudge of blue icing from his skin. He rubbed again upon seeing your lips pinch to hide a smile, failing again, and your eyes rolled fondly.

Reaching up to him, your hand sat on his jaw, one thumb swiping over his skin to clear it away, the back of your pointer catching any last smears, and he smiled softly, letting you work. When you pulled your hand away, he had a tissue ready, wiping your finger clean and tossing the ball into the trash.

“Ready to kick some ass at board games?”

“Az, I was born for this.” Your serious look made him laugh, head tipping back, hand settling comfortably on your lower back as he began to guide you through the halls. The palace was huge, far too big for you to properly learn your way around after only five days, but this route was one you were beginning to know well. Following the joyous chatter of Kallias and Vivianne until the light of the sitting area was spilling out, you let their voices guide you, Azriel’s hand never leaving your back.

As you rounded the doorway, Vivianne held up her hands, eyes wide and arms extended, a yell on her lips that brought you crashing to a half, Azriel slamming into your back and both of you almost tumbling over.

“What?” You burst, eyes scanning the immediate area for danger, guard flying back up from where you’d let it slip over the last few days. When you found nothing, you looked back to her, but instead of finding fear, you saw the excitement on her face.

“Look up!” She beamed, your heart thudding nervously in your chest and your eyes slowly travelling up, head tipping back to examine the doorframe above you. Hanging there above your heads was a green sprig of mistletoe, one you know wasn’t there before, and both Kallias and Viv stared innocently with smiles on their faces. Viv’s was wider, Kallias’ was merely indulging, adoring of his wife, and you knew she was behind this.

Your heart gave another hard thud as you watched Azriel observe it from the corner of your eye. A soft laugh spilt from your lips as you turned to face him fully, his sweet smile setting a wave of reassurance spreading through your chest, and his brows raised a little. His shadows were beginning to swirl up a little higher, over his shoulders and around his head, a tell that he was nervous, and he gave a small shrug.

“S’okay. It’s just a tradition, right?” Your heart ached a little in your chest at the tone of his voice, something self-loathing and worried in there, just loud enough for you to make out, private from your audience. You refused to believe that after these nights of cuddling, these near-miss moments and the feeling of waking up in his arms, that Azriel didn’t know how you felt. The inkling of doubt in your chest was quickly quashed when you made your decision.

Stepping closer, close enough to throw your arms around his neck and pull yourself up to a more even height, Azriel’s hands steadied you at your waist as his eyes widened a fraction, lips parting in shock.

“It’s not just for the tradition, Az.” You whispered, before pressing your lips against his own, anxiety thrumming through your body like electric currents, fear taking over every nerve. His hands on your hips tightened, frozen still for just a second, before he was melting against you. Tugging you closer, his hands smoothed around to your lower back instead, a low sound leaving him, muffled between your mouths as he returned your fragile kiss.

His lips were soft, so much softer than you’d expected, giving and taking as his nose bumped clumsily against your own, learning something entirely new between yourselves. He caught on quickly, though, pulling back barely an inch to take a breath, before twisting his head to the side, and letting his lips find your own once again. Rocking you back to lean over you, your feet sunk to the floor comfortably.

As the nervousness died away, a smile formed on your lips, despite their current occupation with his own. Filled with burning love and utter devotion, your heart gave one final, steady beat, before something jolted, snapping like an anchor to the ocean floor or a rock through ice, grounding you to the moment with such force that you pulled back with a gasp.

Emotions that weren’t your own came flooding in, a mirror image of something else, and when your gaze fluttered up to Azriel’s, he only smiled, brushing his thumb over your face, and staring at you like you’d hung the very moon in the sky.

You knew what that feeling was, you’d waited all your life for it, and apparently, it was no shock to Azriel as he pushed another wave of affection down it towards you. Flicking a glance over to Viv and Kal, Azriel seemed to take the hint, the smile never leaving his face as he let you go. To be discussed later, when you were alone. This was not a moment for anyone else.

With a final kiss left on your cheek, he stepped back, your cheeks burned hot, shock and surprise now all you could feel, and everything else felt numb. Everything except for where Azriel laced his fingers with your own, much more competent and stable as he tugged you along and into the living room, to the set up of board games and snacks.

Sinking down onto the floor on one side of the large coffee table, cushions had been laid out, and Azriel took a seta net to you, wings comfortably spreading out across the floor behind him as Vivianne and Kal sat down opposite you. Pulling out the first board game, your hostess jumped into an explanation of it, but your mind was still spinning, utterly disconnected from the moment and in shock as you tried to put it aside.

Mate.

It was like the word was bouncing around the inside of your skull, every heartbeat sending another echo of it to follow. A bloom of amusement inside your chest, a follow emotion that felt like smoke you could wave your hand through, not tangible like your own, and you’d have to get used to the feeling of… him.

His hand reached out, settling over your thigh and squeezing in gentle comfort, never taking his eyes off of Vivianne as she laid out all the pieces and explained the rules. Staring down at the large, scarred limb sitting so comfortably on your leg, nothing about it felt wrong. Azriel had always been affectionate with you, but openly showing a new level of intimacy, you’d have expected at least some level of weirdness, a period of adjustment.

But nothing.

Reaching out carefully, you traced a finger over the back of his knuckles, before slipping the hand down and underneath his own, his fingers widening to link with yours. When your hands were laced together fully, he did turn to look at you, raising your hand to his face and pressing a kiss to the back of it, another one to your temple, before turning his attention back to the game.

It was so simple, so settled, so right.

Your mind, at last, went silent, because it was like the final puzzle piece had fallen into place, and at last, you could see the whole picture.

Azriel had opted to take a shower as you’d come back to the room, leaving you alone to your thoughts for the first time since your kiss, and they were drowning you. If you paced anymore, you were sure you were going to burn a hole right through the floor and fall throughout the palace.

There was obviously a conversation to be had, there was a bond sitting between your chests, one you were trying very hard not to let be tainted with your anxieties, and yet Azriel’s side was suspiciously quiet. You’d expected more from him, if he truly did already know about the bond between you both, and he was as happy as you believed him to be based on his actions, then why was it so silent?

Finally coming to a stop in front of the fireplace, you stared into the flames, listening to the logs crackle and pop as they burned, trying not to let your worries and insecurities build up once again. Time slipped away from you, the room around you melted into nothing, everything becoming a blur as you got lost in your head, only snapping back into focus at the soft clearing of a throat behind you for attention.

Leaning on the doorway connecting your two rooms was Azriel - your mate, it seemed - his arms crossed over his chest and eyes raised. His hair was still damp, curling a little at the tips that needed trimming, his shadows swirling despite his calm demeanour, mirroring the worry you felt inside visibly.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded far too quickly, a high-pitched hum leaving you, and instead of pacing, your hands now began to fidget in front of your body. He fixed you with a look, one that suggested he didn’t believe you even slightly, and he’d have been able to tell that even without the bond connecting you both. Holding out his hands at hip height and waving his fingers, he silently beckoned you forwards, as if to prompt you. ‘Come here and prove it’, the action said.

Like a magnet, you were drawn towards him, stumbling across the room until his hands were on you once again, a sigh slipping from your lips as he tugged you into his body. The shadows over his head began to clear, until only a couple remained, hanging in thin air near the doorframe in the shape of mistletoe branches and leaves, and despite all your raging emotions, a smile was pulled from you at the notion.

You were blasting all kinds of nerves, the bond between your bodies all but vibrating as you looked back to him, pink cheeks and a sweet smile, waiting for your response. A wave of comfort came to you, enveloping all that sickening fear and replacing it with adoring warmth, only confirming that he did know it was there, connecting both of your hearts.

A small, breathless laugh left you at the feeling. You’d have to get used to that. With the sound, he sent another pulse of love, one so deep and unending your knees almost went weak, almost letting you tumble to the ground. Perhaps this was why you’d felt nothing from him, why nothing felt any different.

This wasn’t new, you’d always felt a connection to Azriel that you couldn't explain, but never in your wildest dreams would you have thought you’d be lucky enough to be his mate. Instead of a sudden snap, or a surprise click, this had been a slow-forming thing, burning hot and bright within you both since the day you’d met, and building up one thread at a time. Unnoticeable as it grew, until it was too strong to ever be broken.

You’d always been able to read him so well, and he’d known you like he could read your mind. Turns out, it was your heart he could read instead.

Wrapping your arms around his neck once again, he hauled you up against him, supporting your weight as he lifted you onto the tips of your toes, and met you halfway to the kiss.

Just like before, it was shy and tentative, a new step in your relationship that had to be learnt, and you took it slow. Your mouth moved cautiously against his own, memorising every drag, every feeling of his soft sighs and the sweet sounds he made. It was intoxicating to be so close to him, to indulge in something you’d only ever dreamed of, and for it to feel so normal.

Like you were always meant to be right here, your lips moulded to Azriel’s and hearts beating as one. Nothing had ever compared to this, and nothing ever would.

Nervous kisses melted away into curiosity. What had once been delicate, his hands sitting steady on your waist, soft presses of his mouth to your own, smiles and bumps as you twisted and learned became smoother. His fingers danced up your spine now to cup the back of your head, your fingers lacing into his hair, and he held you where he wanted you, each kiss getting longer, deeper, lips parting further as you grew bolder.

Scratching your nails lightly over his scalp, Azriel gave a soft moan, the sound making your head spin and lips part. Given the chance, he sucked your lower lip gently, until you were so dizzy with the feeling that he was all that was holding you up. Twisting you around, your back pressed into the doorframe as he towered over you, one, ragged breath taken before his lips were crashing back down into your own, and it was your turn to moan.

His tongue slipped between your parted lips, stroking slowly over your own, sensual in a way that made you breathless, letting him suck the air from your very lungs as you tasted him for the first time. It was addictive, the feel of him on you, the taste of him in your mouth, something you never wanted to forget, and never wanted to let go.

His body was firm against your own, heart beginning to beat faster and faster once again in response to your own as something much fierier began to unfurl in your chest, flames burning hotter and higher together. Dragging his mouth from your own, you were left panting, his lips glistening and eyes dark as he pulled back to take you in, staring as though he’d never seen anything like you before.

You couldn't take it, the intensity of his love, of his passion, it was too much, and if you were going to have any self-control at all, you had to act. You pulled him back down, until your lips could brush across his lips again in a kiss only designed to be a peck. By the time he was reciprocating, you were moving on, a kiss to his cheek, to his jaw, to his chin, anywhere you could reach, until the heat died down, and a laugh left his lips when you blew air over the ticklish spot below his ear.

“So, that’s new.” You whisper, placing a kiss on that spot before sinking back down, letting him keep you crowded into the frame, but with your foreheads resting together, eyes closed.

“Only physically.” He mumbled back, hand sliding away from your hair and down your arm, to link your fingers together instead. “I’ve been kissing you in my dreams for a long time now.”

“That was so cheesy.”

“Get used to it.” His laughter was laced into his tone, and your eyes rolled behind closed lids, but the smile never faded. “You’re the best gift I could have ever asked for.”

At that, your eyes snapped open, the excited gasp on your lips making him follow suit, pulling back to stare curiously. “I got you some really good gifts under the tree. I mean, maybe not as good as a mating bond, but, pretty good.”

Your heart clenched in your chest at the look on his face, slipping out from under him and tugging him by your connected hands toward the couches, to which he happily followed. As you gathered the gifts, he winnowed out, returning minutes later with hot chocolates and a bag in hand, and making his way back over to your side. Sinking onto the carpet in front of the fireplace instead, you left him with a single, deep kiss in thanks, before retrieving the mug from his hands, and blowing carefully at the steam.

Marshmallows bobbed across the surface as he took a seat before you, tucked underneath one wing and pressing up to your side. Placing the bag into your lap, you found the remnants of today’s gingerbread cookies, the ones that had been your absolute favourite all day. Your head snapped up, lips parting to ask how he knew, before feeling the tug in your chest at the bond, and your lips closed once again, your answer found.

As he sipped at his hot chocolate, you paced your own to the side, taking his cheeks in your hands and pulling him close enough to leave a kiss on his lips, his eyes sparkling when you pulled back.

“What was that for?”

“Just for being you.” For being mine, you added mentally, and warmth rose to his cheeks, painting them a pretty pink in response. Dragging the two stockings across the carpet toward you first, you placed one into his lap, and he discarded his own hot chocolate to take it, watching you do the same. “Open the small ones first.”

He tipped it upside down, sending several small packages tumbling out across the floor, and he lined them up neatly, before picking up the smallest first. Slipping his thumb underneath the wrapping, you watched excitedly as he opened it up, a small box tumbling out. Picking it up, he turned to face you with a smirk, running his thumb over the velvet of it. “A ring box? Baby, it’s been hours since you gave me our first kiss, little soon, no?”

“Oh, shut up.” You blushed, slapping at his arm as he laughed. “I didn’t know when I bought this. Besides, wrong finger.”

Opening it up, sterling silver shone up and caught the light, showing off the engravings inside of snowflakes and Winter Court symbols, as well as the dates of your trip carved onto the inside. Lifting it out, he admired it for a second, before slipping it down onto an unoccupied pinkie, and holding it up to see. “How’d you get it so perfect on the sizing?”

“Sometimes I steal your pinkie ones to wear on my thumbs, so I knew one of mine would fit in reverse.” his gaze moved from his finger to you, lips rolling together to conceal a smile, and just before his mouth opened, the feeling racing down the bond warned you of the kind of comment that was coming.

“If you wanted me to give you a ring, you shoulda’ just asked.”

“Yes, every girl’s dream is to ask for a proposal.” You scoffed, leaning away from him only to be met with the resistance of his wing, snapping against your back to send you tumbling back into his side.

“Fine. When the time comes, I’ll surprise you with it, then. Catch you off-guard. But don’t complain now if your engagement memories are all of you in sweatpants or pyjamas. Or better yet, nothing at all.” Licking over his lower lip, he winked, and you groaned, burying your head in your hands, only to enhance his amusement. He reached across you, plucking up one of the gifts from inside your stocking, and balancing it on your knees, before tugging your hands away. “C’mon, you open this one.”

It was in different wrapping paper to all the rest as you scooped it up, and he scratched the back of his neck, smile dimming from amused to shy. “I got you this back home, I was planning to give it to you here anyway.”

You offered a silent oh. Turning back to the small package and tearing it open gently, and allowing a small, woven strand to fall out. About the length of your hand, woven together were blue, silver and black threads, a gem sitting in the middle that was awfully similar to one of Azriel’s siphons, a few silver charms laced throughout it. Tracing your thumb over them, you identified each one.

A dagger, a heart, a crescent moon, a star, and a wing.

“What is it?” You were breathless as you admired it, a perfect representation of Azriel, and he took it from your hands carefully.

“It's… a bracelet. Gwyn likes to make them. I saw her wearing one at training one day and she told me about them. I made it for you. You’re all I ever think about, so, maybe it was selfish, but I wanted you to have something that made you think of me. I wanted you to have something that would make me come to mind when you saw it. You don’t have to wear it, but-”

“What are you talking about?” Thrusting your arm out before him, a sense of relief filled you inside, and his face softened to match the emotion. “Put it on me right now, and when we get home, I’ll have it enchanted to last. I don’t want to take it off, ever.”

“Well, that’s just a little dramatic.” He teased, but did as you said, latching it carefully onto your wrist and tying it tight so it wouldn't slip off by mistake. “You really like it?”

“Like it? Azriel, I love it.” You traced your finger carefully over the woven strands, the silver one showing a little glitter as you examined it even closer, and your cheeks started to hurt from how much smiling you were doing. “For the record, though, you don’t need to give me any gifts or jewellery to be on my mind. You’re living there rent-free already.”

He didn’t reply, turning away to hide the look on his face by selecting another gift instead.

On and on you went, exchanging gifts and stealing kisses between them, moving through the piles as you opened everything you’d found for one another since arriving.

You gave him some mystery books, a couple of new notepads and pens, and some various creams and potions. Also on his pile were the enchanted gloves, designed to keep his hands warm, a new dagger sheath with his initials printed in, and a first-aid kit that could fold up small and fit into his bags for missions. Lastly, were a few fidget toys you’d found, his shadows being the true recipients for those, and they were already busily occupying themselves with their new toys, leaving their master to a little peace and quiet.

That particular gift has been such a hit that Azriel had practically dived atop you, his lips meeting your own as your back met the carpet, giggles swallowed by his mouth as he kissed you passionately enough to convey his thanks.

His gifts for you included some romance books that he said came highly recommended, accompanying the statement with a smirk. Also in your pile was a new, handmade scarf, with bright colours and soft fabric that you couldn't wait to wear. A bookmark, a couple of candles, and a pair of earrings designed to look like the falling petals of your favourite flower.

He’d received equally passionate kisses for each of those, time melting away around you each time you fell into him. By the time you were finished, you were surrounded by piles of gifts, and bundles of discarded wrapping paper. Empty mugs, an abandoned bag of crumbs as you’d finished the cookies between you, the fire dying down to embers, sorely in need of new logs but utterly neglected as you’d kept one another warm all evening instead.

“Should we tidy up a little?”

“‘Suppose so.” The words were mumbled into your hair as Azriel continued to nuzzle there, holding you curled against his chest as you laughed. Pushing yourself up onto legs that had gone numb long ago, he groaned, holding out his hands to you and letting you tug all that heavy Illyrian muscle to its feet, before stretching out and shaking his wings into action. “I’ll put the gifts away in our cases if you handle the other stuff?”

“Sounds like a deal.” You dropped down, scooping up the bundles of wrapping paper into your arms, crunching them tightly into balls as Azriel gathered up all of your gifts first, carrying them over to the bed and pulling out the case you’d stashed underneath. They took up half the space just as you watched him begin to stack things inside, a problem considering you had the rest of your belongings still to go back in there in a few days, but you’d have to figure it out. Maybe he had spare room in his.

You eyed the pile of gifts you’d given him. Probably no spare room there, either.

Tossing the bundles of paper into the fireplace, the flames rapidly began to grow back to life, and you poked in the ashes to revive a little more heat, adding a few more logs and some coals to make it through the night. Gathering his gifts, he took them away to his room, leaving to clear up the mugs and wrappers, and drag the coffee table back into place.

Just like that, the last few hours had all been cleared away, your room restored to its satisfying tidiness. You sensed Azriel before you saw him, every cell in your body reacting as he walked back into the room, making his way over to you, and letting you turn to face him just as he reached for you.

Falling into his touch felt like home, his arms banding around your body as you cupped his face, smiling up at him as you took him all in. “Wow,” Running your fingers over his cheekbones, you shook your head in disbelief. “Wow, you’re mine?”

Silver lined his wide eyes, and he sucked gently on his lower lip as he nodded. “And you’re mine, my love.”

Your heart skipped several beats at the new pet-name, and you hoped you never heard yourself be referred to anything else from him ever again, because Azriel’s love was all you ever wanted to be known as now.

It was agonisingly slow, the pull and take, the give of his lips as they moulded to your own, bodies pressing further and hands grabbing, until the place where you ended and he began became blurred. Your hands were in his hair, familiarising yourself with the softness of the stands, the way he’d hum against your lips when you tugged on the strands, the way his hands would tighten on your hips.

Teasing his tongue along the seam of your lips, you parted them, waiting for more, but he chose that moment to tease. Instead of diving further, he pulled back, lips grazing along your jaw as he dipped you backwards, head hanging on your shoulders as he kissed his way to your neck.

“Az…” The words were breathy on your lips, his answering groan reverberating along your skin, sucking some of the skin between his lips until it stung and you gasped, his tongue soothing over the patch a second later. “Azriel…”

“Don’t say my name like that, it’s driving me crazy.” Tugging your hips flush to his own, your whimper was barely contained by his mouth sealing back over your own. More urgent now, he took that opening, tongue plunging into your mouth and coaxing your own to play, hot and frenzied as he took control. Another moan slipped through, one that had his hips jerking against your own as he gave a soft grunt in response.

“You taste like peppermint, Az.”

“You taste like gingerbread.” He returned, biting lightly on your lower lip in response, and your mind swirled in response to the teasing nip. “I think it just became my new favourite treat.”

Sliding your hands down from his hair to his chest, you pressed lightly, pushing him backwards. He stumbled away, eyes snapping wide and hands leaving your body, fear of crossing a line, and you smirked at his misunderstanding. Backing him up, you followed his steps, until his legs were pressing to the edge of your bed, and he was falling back to sit. His confusion became a grin as you crawled into his lap, a leg caging either side of his hips, and his large, calloused hands slid up your thighs slowly.

Your lips slammed back into his own, Azriel’s moan in your mouth tasted like honey on your tongue as you reunited once again. It was preposterous, to think you’d known Azriel for so long and hadn't been doing this the whole time, to think that you hadn't spent every moment of every day kissing him. The bond between your bodies was pulling taut, shaking with glee and glowing so bright it could light up the night sky.

You could feel it within you, all but singing with anticipation, and you rocked your hips into his own. That one, small movement had you both falling apart, wanton spills of needy sounds leaving you as you repeated it, again and again, riding him through layers of clothes as your kisses grew messier. His hands took over, slipping over your hips to sit on your ass and squeeze roughly, rocking you down against him perfectly until your eyes were rolling in your head, the perfect friction pressing into you.

Your hands skated around his body, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his lungs under your hands, until your fingers were running down the seam of buttons under one wing on his back.

“Fuck, Az…” Your whimper only made him growl, picking up his intensity, biceps flexing through the sleeves of his t-shirt as he used you like a toy against his body. Your foreheads were pressed together, lips barely brushing with every pant for breath and your gaze moved down to watch the place that you were rocking together as your fingers fumbled with the catches.

Your panties were sodden now, likely dripping through, and you were sure that you were starting to spot a wet patch growing on his sweats from your movements as you undid the seals behind his back. As soon as they came loose, you were pulling back, motions stopping for a torturous moment as you tugged his t-shirt up and over his head now that they were free of his wings, having to raise on your knees to get it off his arms.

As soon as it was free, you were tossing it away, his hands returning to your body and he slammed you back down against his clothed erection, a cry spilling from your lips at the act.

“Oh, gods, you feel so good already.” His head fell forwards, forehead sitting on your shoulder, teeth grazing the skin as he bit down to hide his desperate sounds. Your fingers traced over his shoulders, tattoos you’d seen a thousand times before but you’d never had an excuse to touch. So many promises, so many bargains, you wondered how many of them belonged to you.

Over the centuries, Azriel had made many promises to you, and as if reading your mind, his head lifted. Taking your hand, he dragged your touch down from his shoulder to sit over his heart, various swirling patterns that would blend into the rest at a distance, and your fingertips twitched over his skin.

“Your promises sit right here, every mark you’ve ever left on me has been on my heart, inside and out.”

“Oh, Azriel.” His hand sealed over the top of yours, your rocking slowing to a stop as your other hand cupped his face, breaking through the heavy lust for a breath of fresh air. He leaned up, nose bumping your own, smiles that made it impossible to kiss as you shared the same breath. “I can’t believe it.”

“You never even suspected it?”

“I never considered myself your equal, it didn’t seem possible.” Your power was nothing compared to his, your skill and stealth the same, and he gave an empty laugh, stealing a kiss from your lips despite it.

“You’re worth so much more than I am.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You scoffed, peppering his cheeks with kisses to banish his self-deprecating thoughts, and you felt the stretch beneath your lips, a tell of a smile. Sitting back you tugged your shirt up and over your head, breasts spilling free before his eyes, and he licked his lips, fighting to keep his gaze on yours. “You can look, Az. I’m yours to look at.”

“If I look, I’m going to lose every last shred of self-control I have.”

“So lose control.” Your smirk was back, leaning in to brush your lips together and taking his hand from his own heart, bringing it to sit in the centre of your chest above your own. “Every beat is for you, Azriel. I never let myself think about it, because it would have crushed me to know I wasn’t yours. I was preparing myself for the eventuality that one day you’d find them. Someone incredible, someone who is your equal, in power and skill and every way that matters.”

“You may not be as strong as I am.” He mumbled, standing from the bed with you in his arms, like you weighed nothing at all as he kept your legs tight to his waist and twisted you to the bed. “But that is because you’re not Illyrian.”

He crawled up and over you, balancing his weight on his knees and palms as he caged you in. Reaching over his shoulders, you dragged one finger along the ridges of his wings, watching his face screw up and jaw drop open as you toyed with his most Illyrian trait.

“You may not have as much stealth as I do, but that is only because you don’t control the shadows to hide in.”

You never noticed the shadows snaking up your legs, the dark tendrils helping him to lift your hips, and he eased your leggings and panties down your legs, your thighs clamping shut with a sudden wave of anxiety as he dropped the material to the ground, leaving you bare before him, tracing his hands up your calves again.

“You may not have my power,” His hands closed over your knees, forcing your legs back apart for him to settle between, and a flush of heat left a blush over your body at his strength. “But that is because your skills lay elsewhere, my love.”

“Oh, yeah?” There wasn’t nearly as much sass as you intended, and he only nodded, dipping down to leave kisses on your inner thighs, groaning the closer he got to your dripping centre.

“Yes, darling.” Circling one finger at your entrance, your head fell back, a cry of his name as he sank that finger deep into you, biting down on the inside of your thigh as he slid into you easily. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“A result of another of your skills.” You huffed out, back arching as he crooked his finger, teasing you for your comment and pumping that lone digit.

“You are sweet, and friendly, and the best courtier I’ve ever seen.” He picked up speed, your fingers clenching in the sheets, dragging at them as you clawed for strength, for anything to hold onto. “I may have brute strength in a physical fight, but I have never seen anybody win an argument like you, to win a battle of wit.”

“So, I’m the best at being bitchy? Gee, tha- ahh! Azriel!” Your sarcasm was cut short by one finger becoming two, a slam into you as your eyes rolled back, and he chuckled at the pathetic serious of whimpers you let out when he began to stretch you out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

“You’re also the best at winding me up, nobody gets under my skin quite like you do.” Your body was trembling, teetering on the brink of ecstasy as his fingers continued to seek out and abuse the spot inside of you that made you cry out. “But despite those shining qualities, they are not my favourites. Your heart is equal to mine; you love fiercely, you care deeply, you are loyal and kind and true. You are brave and strong of spirit, and you never give up.”

Slipping his thumb up to your clit, your back arched clean off the bed, a few sloppy circles had your mind shattering as you exploded into bliss. His voice soothing you through it, deep and raspy as he watched you unfold, a spike of arousal in your chest from him as he watched you crest.

“Most of all, my love,” He pulled his fingers out, your legs still shaking in the aftermath as he began to kiss up your body, letting your thighs tremble on either side of his hips as his lips found yours again. “Your power, is over me. I am entirely at your mercy.”

“Kiss me.” You begged, shaky hands coming up to grip his cheeks, and he nodded.

“With pleasure.” His lips worshipped yours the way his words had worshipped your mind, the way his hands worshipped your body, and your grip skated down to push at the last clothing on his body. Shoving at them, you whined at the effort, sitting up and letting your chest press to his own until you could get them down, his cock springing free, slapping between your wet folds and nudging your swollen clit. “Are you s-”

“Don’t ask me that. Don’t ask me if I'm sure, when thinking about this, thinking about you and me has been my guilty pleasure for decades.” Wrapping your fingers around him, he offered a shaky moan, hips rolling with your movements as you dragged his cock through your wetness, gathering your arousal onto his tip, before lining him up.

“Not just for the bond, then?” He questioned, laying back into the sheets, one hand at a time raising above your head as he pinned them there, stretching your chest out before his face. Shadows swirled at your wrists, holding them in place for himself, a couple more tugging your ankles apart, rendering you utterly at Azriel’s mercy.

“Not just for the bond, Az. For you.”

He nudged inside, sinking slowly into you, inch by inch until you felt like you were going crazy, needy for every inch of him to fill you up, for that bond to reach its strongest yet as your bodies connected wholly. When his hips finally sat snugly against your own, you were babbling his name senseless, and he was panting shallow breaths through his teeth to hold himself steady. “Gods, you feel like heaven.”

Azriel pulled back, a single thrust that had both of you calling out, your hands gripping him, legs tight around him, and he did it again. Building up steadily in pace, he rolled his hips into your one, hard and deep, your body firing in response like nothing you’d ever felt. With every slam of his hips into yours, every whisper of praise in your ear, you reached higher and higher, feeling like you were leaving your body behind.

His name was a whine on your lips, your hands struggling over your head, fighting against his bonds, and they gave little. His head dipped down, marking every spot on your skin with his kisses, until he was tugging one of your nipples between his teeth, and tears line your eyes at the spark along your spine that resulted.

This wasn’t just fucking, this wasn’t just making love. This was two souls bonding, finding one another and trying together so fully that you’d never be apart again.

“Please, please, Az. Let me touch you too.”

You found the strength to lift up, to meet his lips as his head raised to yours, a sloppy kiss slamming in the middle of you as his speed picked up. Every part of you honed in on the connection of your hips, the shudder that shot up your body each time, enough to send you flying up the bed if it wasn’t for his hold keeping you in place. You couldn't help the thought flickering through your mind, thanking the Mother and the Cauldron and everything else that the man you’d be tied to for the rest of your life was fucking phenomenal in bed.

“I want to hold my mate.”

He groaned out, body weakening at the word that fell from your tongue, and the shadows slipped away only a second later. As soon as you’d regained use of your hands, you were doing just that, surging out to hold onto him. One hand looped around his neck, holding him tight as your heads sat together, eyes held in an endless gaze, and he slowed his movements, bringing you back down to earth as your body wound up tighter. “I’ve dreamed about this moment for so long.”

“Is it everything you hoped it would be?” You teased, running a hand down his sweat-slicked arm, and he caught it, lacing your fingers together and pressing it back into the bed. The frantic swirling of his shadows began to calm, a frenzy becoming a sensual dance as his thrusts became nothing more than slow rocks into you, your hips working together in harmony.

“You’re so much more than I could have ever dreamed up.” Your chest filled with emotions, clashing between your hearts along that newly formed bond, and you squeezed at your connected hands.

Raising your other hand over his shoulder, you didn’t take it gently this time, swiping your palm along the inside of a flared wing, and he roared. A sound that wracked through your body, his hips growing fast once again, violent thrusts the longer your hand remained, his control fraying as you brushed the right spots. You’d touched his wings before, all the places that caused no sensitivity and arousal, this time aiming for every place you’d never dared reach for.

Moving inwards, toward the base of his wings, your touch grew firmer, rubbing your thumb along the place where his wings met his muscled back on the inside, and a broken sob left his lips as his arms gave way. The full weight of him collapsed down atop you, hips grinding, your own orgasm teetering on the edge. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop…”

As your peak crashed into your full force, his name was a shout on your lips as you came undone, your palm pressed into the thick leather of his wings. Twitching fingertips, your nails scraped, and with a sound like you’d never heard him make before, Azriel followed you over the cliff.

His body shook, warmth erupting inside of you, leaking out around your connected bodies as you tried to rock up into him, meeting him thrust for weak thrust until the stimulation was all too much. He pulled his cock from you with a trembling breath, barely pulling away enough to release him before he was collapsing back down on top of you.

It hadn't been the wildest of sex, nor had it been the best it would be, you knew that by the feelings in your chest he sent across. No, this was different. This was needy and frantic and overwhelming because it was new. It was a boundary being crossed, it was lives being changed, it was the future finally falling into place.

Just one day ago, this time last night, he has nothing more than your best friend. As you’d curled into him to fall asleep one day ago, it had been with no idea what his lips tasted like, or what it felt like to connect to him so completely.

His arms banded around your waist, soft kisses to accompany the thoughts you must have been blasting out as clearly as screaming them aloud, and he settled his head on your chest after leaving a final kiss on your lips. You let your arms circle him too, a kiss on the top of his head that made him smile against your skin.

You both agreed, as you fell asleep once again tangled in each other’s arms, that nothing would ever be the same.

#under the mistletoe #UTMi #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel/you #acotar x reader #acotar/reader #acotar x you #acotar/you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #acotar

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