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#feeling terrible and just need to draw comfort faces
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You Look Happier
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Part 4 of the Family, Pawns, and Sins of the Family
Summary: After every thing you've been though, it's time to move forward. While doing just that you run into a unlikely friend that looks past the scars you bare.
Warning: panic attack, mention of past abuse, suicidal thoughts, fluff, Kamala is a joy and I love her, small scene of a guy grabbing the reader, mention of nightmares, facing past abusers in court.
Word Count: 5.4k
Note: Ignore the fact that I said the next chapter of Second Chance will be posted today, I finished this one shot instead lol. Also, this will probably be the last part of this!
*
Healing was not linear. If this whole experience taught you one thing, it was that. Some days were good. They were great. You smiled and laughed without restraint. Those good days bleed into good weeks. Then, the darkness over your shoulder would rear its ugly head. All your hard work to overcome everything seemed pointless when you couldn’t leave your bed and your moms stayed by your side out of fear you would hurt yourself. There were close calls. The overwhelming urge sometimes became too much. You wanted to feel anything besides their hands on you.
Tonight was the end of a terrible day. You shut down after your therapy appointment. The mid-afternoon nap you took was ruined by a nightmare, and the court called, and they needed you to testify against Principal Cook. It was not your day. Still, you managed to pull yourself out of bed when the Avengers came over for a cookout. You sat at the fire pit with a marshmallow on the end of the stick. The flames engulfed the sticky treat and fell into the fire. Sighing, you blew out the flame and leaned back into the chair. You pulled the blanket to your chin and watched the get-together.
“Hey bug,” Natasha slid next to you. The chair was big enough for you two to sit comfortably without touching it, but you folded it against her. You buried your face in her shoulder and felt her hand draw shapes on your back. “How are you feeling?” Lying was never an option when they asked you this question. They would rather have the brutal, honest truth than a lie. It was a hard thing to overcome in the beginning.
“I’m,” Tired. Sad. Angry. “Struggling.” You sighed.
“Yeah,” Natasha kissed your forehead. “Today was a lot.” You nodded against her.
“Have you heard from the lawyers?” It was Natasha’s turn to sigh and kiss your forehead again.
“Not yet. They are talking with Cook’s defense team and hoping the man will take a plea deal.” You nodded and closed your eyes. The constant motion and her soft humming almost sent you to sleep. “Your mama and I have to go to the tower tomorrow. Is it okay to have your therapy session online?” The other thing was they refused to let you stay home alone on terrible days. It made sense. Through all of this, they wanted you to be safe.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “That’s fine.” There was no need to open your eyes because you knew there was a smile on her face.
“I love you, our firefly.”
“I love you too, mom.”
*
Today was better. Your therapist let you discuss your relationship with Wanda, Natasha, and the twins. It was a breath of fresh air to talk about something positive. The two Avengers were still in their meeting, so you waited for them on the common floor. It was half your fault. You were looking at your phone when a body slammed into you, causing you and your phone to fall to the ground. “Are you okay? Is your phone okay? Do you have a concussion?” You blinked at the girl with long brown hair and bright brown eyes. “Oh my god, I’ve concussed you.” She cried, placing her hands on top of her head.
“I’m not-wait. Who are you?”
“I’m Kamala Khan,” she offered you her hand, which you took to stand up.
“I’m-”
“Oh, I know who you are. Peter won’t stop talking about you. He says, You’re super cool.”
“I’m-” broken. Hurt. Sad. “Okay,” she laughed, and the sound erupted butterflies in your stomach. You noticed you were still holding her hand, and you dropped it suddenly. “Sorry,” you whispered. She smiled, picked up your phone, and looked it over.
“It’s not broken. I would have hated it if I gave you a concussion and broke your phone.” you were surprised by the laugh that you let out. It only made Kamala’s smile grow. “Here you go.”
“You should put your number in it,” a surge of confidence washed through you. Her eyebrows went up. “I mean, you did assault me. I think you owe me,” her mouth opened and closed like a fish. It was cute.
“I see why Peter likes you,” she said, handing you the phone so you could open it, and she quickly put her number on it. “I have to run-”
“Hopefully, not into someone again,” you said with a playful smile. She rolled her eyes.
“But I’ll see you again. Text me so I can have your number, too.” You waved bye as she ran off. Flopping onto the couch, you sent Kamala a simple hello with your name. For some reason, your cheeks were hurting from your smile.
*
You giggled at the funny meme Kamala sent you of Yelena and Kate that she made. You befriended the girl three days ago, and her goal seemed to make you smile. Even after a tough day at therapy, you were welcomed with messages from her that made it better. “Alright, enough,” your phone was ripped away from you. You gasped as you watched Yelena go through your phone. “You’ve been giggling all night. Who are you texting?”
“Mama, tell her to give me my phone back,” Wanda chuckled, standing over the stove to make dinner.
“Give her the phone back, Belova,” the witch laughed. “But I am curious who has got you smiling so much.” Yelena refused to give you the phone.
“First off, you’ve met Kamala,” she handed Wanda your phone. Instead of looking through it like the Black Widow, she returned it to you. “Second, I am going to kill her.” You smiled.
“We ran into each other at the tower,” you texted her, letting her know Yelena saw the memes she made. “Literally,” you mumbled. Every time you thought about how you met your new friend, you laughed. This was amplified when Kamala responded, saying you betrayed her trust.
“Hey,” Yelena snapped her fingers in front of your face. You jumped, not expecting it. “Your mama was talking to you.” The Blonde rolled her eyes and left the kitchen.
“Sorry,” you apologized. “What were you saying?” Wanda smiled with a shake of the head.
“I said dinner is almost ready. Can you go wash up and get your brothers?” You nodded and closed the book you were trying to read, but you were distracted by your phone. “And sweetheart,” you stopped to look at Wanda. “She’s making you smile a lot. Is there more going on?” You felt your body heat up.
“N-no,” you stuttered. “We are just friends,” Wanda smirked. “Mama, we are.”
“Okay, I’m just teasing,” you huffed and walked to your room. You dropped your textbooks and notebooks on your desk. Friends. That was all you and Kamala were. Nothing more. Right?
*
You were nervous as you stood outside Natasha’s home office. You could do this. You could do this. Knocking the door, you heard her voice on the other side telling you to come in. You entered and closed the door. “Hey bug, what -” she stopped mid-question. “Are you okay? You look like you are going to be sick.” Instead of answering, you walked to the front of her desk.
“Can I ask you something?” Natasha nodded, the worry evident on her face. “Can I go to the movies?” The Black Widow blinked at once, twice.
“Jesus, kid, you were about to give me a heart attack,” she let out a shaky breath and placed her hand on her chest for added effect. “Who would you be going with?”
“Uh Kamala,” you played with the fidget ring Yelena gave you after they saved you from Dmitri. “She and a few of her friends are in the city, and they invited me to see Detention Disaster with them.” It was a comedy. You looked at an in-depth review of it, so you knew nothing would trigger you.
“Are you sure? That’s a big step,” you knew what she meant. You rarely went anywhere besides the tower, the park down the street, and your brother’s school. Natasha and Wanda were with you even if you went somewhere outside your comfort zone.
“I don’t know,” you admitted, but you wouldn’t grow or heal if you stayed constant. “But I’d like to try.”
*
“That scene in the cafeteria was so funny,” Bruno said as he walked next to Nakia. “And it was shot so well,” Kamala chuckled and shook her head at her friend.
“Did you enjoy the movie?” She asked you. You were walking behind Bruno and Nakia.
“Yeah, it was funny.” Even after reading the very in-depth review, the movie still managed to make you laugh. Also, the comments Kamala and Bruno made to one another throughout the entire movie added another layer of comedy. They thought they were being quiet. Still, they walked no matter how often Nakia threw popcorn at them. You liked Kamala’s friends, who included you in their group.
“Hey, there is an arcade over here. Do you guys want to go?” Bruno asked. He stopped walking so you could catch up. The arcade was loud and unpredictable. There were too many things to account for.
“It’s up to you,” Kamala said. I can take you back home.” Home was safe and predictable—well, your brothers were not, but they knew your boundaries. But you shook your head.
“An arcade sounds fun,” you said. Today was good, and you wanted to keep hanging out with them. If they wanted to go to an arcade, then you would go no matter how much anxiety swirled in your stomach.
Luckily, it wasn’t busy. A small group of kids was at the basketball game, and some were looking at the prizes through the glass box. You bought a card with your tokens, and Kamala grabbed your hand to show you all her favorite games. You were worried that she thought you were clingy, but she kept a tight hold on you. Playing video games with your brothers helped you with some of the games. You beat Kamala on some of the two-player games.
It was fun, and you pretended you were a normal kid for a split second. No deep trauma that kept you awake at night. No scars that ached when it got cold. You were a kid having fun with her friends.
Until you walked alone as you decided on the next game, you needed a few more tickets and could get a new fidget toy. Suddenly, you felt a body crash against your back, and you stumbled forward. Your first thought of who it was was Kamala. For an Avenger, she was very clumsy. “Hey, watch where the fuck you are going,” you turned around to see a guy; he had to be 18.
“You ran into me,” you said. “You should listen to your advice.” You turned away, but he grabbed your arm and spun you back around. He pushed you against the arcade machine. The corner dug into your lower back, and you let out a pained yelp. Fear washed over you. His mouth was moving, but nothing he said mattered to you. It was happening again. Why? You felt frozen. The way his hands felt on you transported you to Jason, Conner, and Dmitri. Then, a new pair of hands were touching you.
“Hey, Y/n,” the voice said. “You’re safe. I need you to breathe for me.” Your chest felt tight, and it was impossible to get air into your lungs. “What do you need?”
“Hands,” you managed. “Get your hands off of me.” They were removed instantly, and you slid down to the ground, bringing your knees to your chest.
“You know you missed me kicking Bruno’s ass in basketball,” it was Kamala. Kamala was in front of you. “I mean, I was cheating, but don’t tell him that.” You managed a chuckle, which Kamala smiled. “Are you back with me?” You nodded, licking your dry lips. “Bruno and Nakia brought that guy to the manager, and he’s calling the police.” Again, you nodded. “Do you want me to call your parents?”
“No,” you finally spoke. The reality of the situation caught up with you, and embarrassment washed over you. You jumped to your feet. “Shit, sorry that was-”
“Whoa,” Kamala stood up slowly with her hand sup. “It’s okay. You did nothing wrong.” But you did, and if you just walked away from him, none of this would have happened. “No matter what happened, he should have never put his hands on you.” You nodded again. “Come on, let’s go somewhere more private.” She let you go to a small back room used for birthday parties. You were grateful she kept her hands to herself when she opened the door. You slumped in one of the chairs and placed your face in your hands. You heard Kamala sit in front of you. “Are you okay?” She finally asked. You sighed.
“I wanted today to be good and normal,” you said. “But it’s like one step forward and four steps back.”
“Isn’t that the point?” You removed your hands and looked at her. “Healing. Some days are better than others. It’s how it is,” she carefully took your hand, and you allowed her to. “And today was fun. I had fun hanging out with you.”
“I had fun, too,” you admitted. She smiled.
“These things will happen,” she continued. “And that is okay. There is nothing to be embarrassed about. I will be there to help you. If you want me to, at least,” she added quickly. You smiled.
“As long as I don’t scare you off.”
“You could never,” she spoke with so much confidence, and without hesitation, you almost believed her.
Delete Created with Sketch.
Today was a bad day. You had to go down to the courthouse to prepare for your testimony against Principal Cool. He wasn’t there, but you had to relive the whole ordeal. After that, Billy and Tommy begged to get ice cream. However, a man mistook you for someone else and grabbed you by the arm. The cherry on top was Kamala was on a mission with Carol. You missed the way she could make you smile and laugh.
It was past midnight. No matter how many times you tried to go to bed, every horrible thing flashed through your mind. Your phone buzzing caused you to jump, not expecting a phone call. Somehow, just seeing her name made you smile. It felt like your first genuine smile all day. “Hi,” you answered softly.
“Did I wake you up? I am so sorry. I can never figure out what time zone I’m in,” you giggled and rolled onto your back.
“No, I’ve been up. What are you doing calling me?” you asked. “I thought you said it was impossible to find cell service up there.” She was quiet, but you heard shuffling as if she was lying down.
“We usually can’t, but we found some. So Carol is calling Val, Monica is calling her mom, and I’m calling you.” Oh. That was a surprise.
“Why are you calling me?” She had her parents, brother, and her high school friends.
“Because I wanted to silly,” she answered. “Now, why can’t you sleep? Are you okay?”
“I’m,” Kamala knew bits and pieces of what happened to you. You strayed away from the more graphic details. It wasn’t easy to open up to your therapist. “I’m,” you sighed. “I miss you,” you admitted instead. Sometimes, it was easier to change the direction of the conversation.
“Awe, I miss you too,” you heard the smile in her voice. “I’ll be home soon, but you failed to answer my question.” you rolled your eyes.
“I’m tired,” you pushed the calm of your hand to your eye. And you were. You wanted to move past all of this and live a normal life.
“Get some sleep. I-shit. I’m sorry, I have to go. Carol needs me.” You were lucky she couldn’t see you, or she would have seen your frown. “Look, if you need anything, you call me, okay? I may not respond right away, but I’m here.” You nodded.
“Stay safe, superhero.”
“Always.”
*
Soft knocking woke you up. Slowly, you sat up and looked towards the sound. “Kamala,” you whispered. The girl was smiling on the other side of your window. You climbed over to it and opened it. “What are you doing?” She smiled.
“To see you. Can I come in? It’s cold,” you stepped out of the way, and she crawled through the window. It was a little clumsy. Her foot got caught on the window ledge. A small yelp, and she rolled off your bed and onto the floor. You cringed at the sound and were grateful that your room was on the first floor. Soon, your room was filled with laughter.
“Are you okay?” You closed the window. Kamala nodded and rubbed the back of her head.
“My pride took a hit,” you giggled and helped her. “Hi,” she smiled and sat down on your bed.
“What are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be in space?”
“Well,” she took off her shoes. “The mission is almost over, and Carol doesn’t need me, so she said I could go home.” You raised her eyebrows at her.
“The last time I checked, this isn’t your house,” she said, looking around the room with a confused expression.
“You know, I thought my room looked a little different. There are not enough Captain Marvel posters,” you rolled your eyes. Besides, Carol may not need me, but you do,” you looked at the ground. Kamala placed her arm around your shoulders. That’s okay, you know that? It’s okay to need people.” You shrugged.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” you whispered. “You are an Avenger. You have more important things to worry about than someone as broken as me.” Kamala removed her arm and forced you to sit more on the bed. You crossed your legs to give her more room. She grabbed your hands.
“You are not broken. You are healing. That is a big difference. Soon, all these scars will heal,” you stared at your connected hands.
“What if whatever they broke inside me can never be fixed?” Kamala was quiet. She moved your hands so your palms were facing up. Her fingers were arms as she traced the lines on your hand.
“Then you learn to live without those parts,” she bite her lip. “When I discovered the true nature of my abilities, the old me was gone. I had to embrace the person I am now. It’s scary, terrifying really, but you have your family to help you,” she squeezes your hands. “You have me.” You looked at her, and she had a soft smile.
“Can you stay the night?” You whispered.
“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” you stood up to get some clothes to change into. Once she was ready for bed, you climbed under the covers with her next to you. “For what it’s worth,” she broke the silence. “I think you are pretty great.” You bent your arm to rest your head on your hand. She was lying on her back.
“You think I’m pretty, superhero,” she rolled her eyes and mirrored the way you were laying.
“What if I did?” You raised your eyebrows in question. “I think you are pretty.”
“Oh,” you squeaked and cringed at the nose that escaped. “Scars and all?” You questioned.
“They are kind of badass,” she said. “Makes you all hot with the ladies.” She wiggled her eyebrows. You chuckled and pushed the girl on her shoulder. She fell onto her back.
“You are such a flirt.” You said.
“Just for you, khobsurat,” you titled your head at the foreign word. “It’s Urdu.”
“What does it mean?” You questioned. Kamala faced you.
“Beautiful.”
“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted. You were never in a normal relationship. Everyone wanted something from you. Everyone tried to hurt you. “I’ve been hurt by so many people that promised not to.” Your biological parents used you to get money. Jason promised to love you. Principal Cook and Coach Griffo were hired to protect students. They all hurt you.
“I can’t promise I won’t mess things up because I’m an idiot,” you smiled. “I can be aggressively passionate, overwhelming, and loud, but I will never hurt you like they hurt you.” You nodded, looking down at the shapes on your blanket. “You don’t believe me.” You wanted to. You tried to jump head first, but you weren’t sure if your heart could handle any more heartbreak. It was already bruised, bandaged, and broken.
“I want to. It’s just-”
“Hard?” Kamala guessed. You nodded. “That’s okay. I’m not going anywhere,” she yawned, covering her mouth. “Sorry, that was rude.”
“Get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” She nodded and closed her eyes.
“Night, khobsurat,” she whispered. Was it weird that you watched her fall asleep? Maybe. But you liked how peaceful she looked. You weren’t sure when the last peaceful night of sleep you had. You were a little jealous. Sighing, you turned to your side and hoped for a nightmare-free sleep.
*
The sound of thundering footsteps woke you up. It was your only warning before your door opened, the force almost falling off the handles. “Breakfast - hey, what are you doing here, Kamala?” You heard the girl behind you groan. Sometime in the middle of the night, you gravitated towards each other. Her arm is secured around your waist. It wasn’t an uncomfortable position. You only allowed your parents and sometimes your brothers to cuddle you.
“Not sleeping,” she mumbled. Her breath caused goosebumps on your skin. That was uncomfortable. Your mind flashed back to every time someone held you down, breathing against your neck. You tensed up. “Hey, are you okay?” You shook your head.
“Mom!” Billy yelled. “Y/n has a friend over that she didn’t ask permission ,and she’s having a panic attack.”
“Billy,” you hissed, but your brother ran off. Kamala removed her arm and created some healthy distance between you and her. You needed some space, not your brother getting Natasha and announcing you were having a panic attack, which you weren’t. Now, the hurried footsteps were from the Black Widow.
“Is she going to kill me?” You heard Kamala whisper as Natasha slowed down. That was a great question you weren’t 100% sure about.
“Kamala, what the hell are you doing here?” She asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be in space?”
“Well, you see, Mrs. Romanoff,” Kamala said slowly. “I requested to leave my mission early because she seemed upset.” Your head whipped around to look at her.
“You told me your mission was almost over, and Carol didn’t need you anyone.” Her eyes widened, frantically looking between you and the Russian.
“I did say that, didn’t I? It was a white lie,” she said. “I knew if I told you the truth, you would make me go back, and you sounded so sad on the phone,” she held up her hands, almost to defend herself. “Carol knows the truth, and she approved it. I couldn’t lie to her,” she pointed to Natasha. “She scares me more than you,” she whispered. Her comment made you laugh, but you were still angry at her even though her heart was in the right place. Natasha scuffed.
“I scare you now. Is that so?” You looked at your mom. Her arms were crossed, and she was leaning against the doorway.
“No, ma’am, Mrs. Black Widow, sir.” You laughed so hard that you snorted, which sent Kamala into a fit of laughter. Natasha had a soft smile on her face.
“Breakfast is ready, girls. Come on,”
“Thanks, Mom,” the Black Widow nodded and walked back towards the direction of the kitchen, not bothering to close the door. Kamala let out a shaky breath and slumped back into the mattress. “I can’t believe you lied to me.” You pinched her side, and the girl yelped.
“It was for a good reason,” you rolled your eyes. “Are you telling me if I told you the truth, you’d let me stay?” There was no good reason you had. “Exactly,” she pinched your side back. “How did you sleep?” She sat up and stretched her arms above her head.
“Good, actually,” your mind was blank; no nightmare woke you up.
“Good,” she climbed out of the bed. “Come on. I’m hungry. Your superhero needs food,” she rubbed her stomach.
“My superhero?” She winked at you.
“I like the sound of that,” she teased and grabbed your hand. You were a little stunned, but you led her to the kitchen, where the rest of your family was. My superhero, you liked the sound of it, too.
*
“I’d like to call Y/n Romanoff-Maximoff as my first witness to the stand,” the prosecutor said your name, and your stomach still dropped. This moment was what you were preparing weeks for. All you had to do was take the stand, tell the truth, and be free. Easy minus facing Principal Cook and the side full of his supporters. But you weren’t alone either. Every Avenger that was not on a mission seemed to be there; even the Bartons made the trip to the city. Still, you felt frozen in your seat. Until you felt a hand on your shoulder squeeze it.
“We are right here, bug,” Natasha whispered. “Eyes on us the entire time.” You nodded and forced yourself to stand up. The prosecutor smiled at you as you passed her and headed for the witness stand. You tried to keep your eyes on your section. Even when the Bible was brought over to you so you could swear the truth and nothing but the truth. But you were curious, so your eyes flickered to his defense team. His lawyer was whispering to him, but Cook was watching you. The man smiled and gave you a little wave. You looked away immediately, eyes scanning your section until you found Kamala. She smiled, and the weight on your chest disappeared. You let out a shaky breath. You could do this. You could do this.
*
“I am so proud of you,” Wanda said for what felt like the 10th time once the trial ended. Her arms were wrapped tightly around you.
“Alright, darling,” Natasha smiled. “Don’t hog her. She’s got other people to thank for coming.” With a sigh, she let you go. You made your way around the large group right outside the courthouse. You thanked everyone for their support and tried to ignore the press taking your picture. Kamala was the last person you went up to. Immediately, you slumped into her arms.
“Hi,” she whispered. “Are you ready to go home?” You nodded against her. She took your hand and led you to your parent’s car. There was no need to say goodbye as everyone was invited to the house for a small party. It was your one request to do after the trial. You wanted everyone close by for a gentle reminder you weren’t alone.
Once again, you found yourself at the fire pit as you watched the party. Kamala sat down next to you and handed you a plate of food. “Are your parents enjoying themselves?” You saw them talking with Natasha and Wanda. They weren’t at the trail; they stayed at the house to set everything up.
“They are. I hope you are ready to hear many stories of when I was a baby,” you smiled and took a bite of your hamburger. “You know Yelena gave me the shovel talk,” your eyes widened. You knew when the Blonde found out you were dating Kamala; it was only a matter of time before the ‘talk’ happened. “It was nothing bad. She did not threaten bodily harm,” you laughed, a little surprised, and sipped your water. “She did make me promise something.”
“Are you going to tell me what that promise was?” Yelena was with the Bartons. Nate was handing on her back with his arms around her neck. She caught you staring and winked at you.
“She told me this has been the happiest she’s seen you,” you looked at the girl next to you. She was looking forward, but you saw her eyes flick to you. It wasn’t the first time you heard that statement. You look happier. Everyone said it in their way. “Is that true? Do you feel happier?” It was a complicated question because there were days you were on cloud nine. Others felt it impossible to move forward. But she made it better.
“Yeah, I am,” you admitted. “So, what promise did you make to her?” She took her free hand in yours.
“Just to keep you happy,” she kissed your cheek. “And you know how much I love making you smile.” You rolled your eyes and felt your body warm up.
“Hey, lovebirds,” you heard Kate yell. “I think you should cool off.” You gasped as the cool water drenched you and Kamala. You ignored Kamala’s laughter and looked at who was responsible: your brother, the Bartons, and Peter.
“Tommy, Billy, I’m going to kill you.”
“Awe, why?” Tommy whined. “It wasn’t just us.” That was true, but you had a free pass to bully them.
“Besides, it was mom’s idea,” your head snapped to look at the Black Widow, who was now with her sister and Laura. She was smirking at you. You narrowed your eyes at her.
“Give me your water gun,” you said to Billy. Your brother looked at you, then Natasha.
“I’ll speak kindly at your funeral, soldier,” he saluted you and handed you the water gun. You placed your now ruined food on Kamala’s plate.
“Khobsurat,” she stood up and grabbed your hand. “Are you sure about this? You have a lot of life to live.”
“Oh my god, guys,” you laughed. “I’ll be fine.” Well, you hopped anyway. Besides, you knew Wanda wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You were secretly her favorite. You pumped the water gun and looked at the Black Widow. She shook her head and mouthed ‘no.’ You winked at her and used your powers to turn invisible. Since the Avengers saved you from Dmitri, you rarely used your powers. Besides the occasional training session Natasha and Wanda put you through. You were grateful for that; what they taught you kept you alive. It felt good to use your powers for fun.
You watched the Black Widow walk over to Wanda and wrap her arms around her waist. She was talking with Maria and Sam. Clever or suicide to use the witch as a shield, but it would not stop you. Carefully, you walked closer to them. “What are you doing, sweetheart?” Wanda asked. Natasha placed her head on her shoulder.
“Can I not love on my beautiful wife?” The witch narrowed her eyes at her.
“Who did you piss off?” You slapped your hand over your mouth to stop the sound of your laughter. Wanda glanced around the yard. “Get off of me.” But Natasha held onto her tighter. “Natalia Alianovna Romanova, I will not be your shield because you messed with our enhanced daughter.” Sam laughed, throwing his head back.
“You got your full government name,” he teased. You are in the dog house.” The Black Widow pouted, but her arms remained locked around Wanda.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ Wanda’s voice echoed in your head. Usually, it would scare you. Now, it was a calming presence when you felt her magic enter your mind.
‘Sorry, mama,’ You appeared behind Natasha and unleashed your water onto her back. Natasha gasped and moved Wanda to take some of it. You stopped immediately but still got her wet. You cringed. “That was not my fault,” you said. The witch sighed.
“I know,” Red Magic took the water gun out of your hands. “Run Romanoff.” The Black Widow’s eyes were filled with fear, and you laughed as she took off towards Tommy, who threw his water gun at her. Yes, you were happier—all thanks to them.
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timethehobo · 13 days
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Constant companions.
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 4 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Cockwarming Simon as you two make out in his office.
From the request here
“I need it in ya, baby,” Simon gasps in between the breaks in your lips connection. “Just for a bit. Ya know ya fuckin’ want me in ya too.”
The tiny office is silent save for the deep groans and sharp breaths as Simon holds you close, you perched comfortably on his beefy thighs while he sits at his desk so that he can steal kiss after heated kiss, relishing in the feeling of your soft lips against his own. Rough hands run up the length of your back, following your spine over your shirt until they reach the back of your head where he uses them to draw your face in tighter until your mouth stings from the pressure. 
Sitting in the middle of his lap you can feel his cock poking against the cheek of your ass, pulsing and throbbing as it strains against the fabric of his pants. It’s no surprise what he needs; it’s the same thing he wants every time he calls you into his office for a “meeting” during your lunch break, which is becoming more and more frequent these days.
You are a very addictive problem, one that he is constantly losing himself in and making every excuse in the book to spend as much time wrapped up in that he can. A pretty thing like you, how is he supposed to keep his hands off? If that means setting up a quick make out session to get through the day, then he’s gonna make it happen one way or another.
“Have training in a bit,” you mutter as you break from his mouth just for a split second. “Don’t want to be late.”
He’s right back on you before the last beat of your reply can hit, not wanting to be parted from you for longer than needed. It takes a minute before he tries to reason with you again. “Not gonna be late,” he reassures. “But how the hell am I supposed to stay outta ya, hmm? Not when ya feel so fuckin’ good. Just want ya to warm me for a bit and then I’ll make sure you’re outta here with plenty ‘a fuckin’ time.”
His hand rubs along one of your thighs as the other is still tangled in the strands of your hair, not wanting to give you the chance to get away from the barrage of his lips. Fuck, it’s getting harder to think straight the longer his mouth captures yours in that tangled dance that he seems to be an expert in. You lean into his embraces a bit more and Simon is sure he has you right where he wants you now.
There is not a chance in hell you are going to deny him. “You better make it up to me later,” you say breathlessly and you can feel his lips upturn into a smile against your own.
The grip on your hair tightens as he gives it a sharp tug. “Take off your fuckin’ pants.”
That gravely, heavily accented tone sends a full shiver down your spine. No one can make a demand like that sound so fucking good, especially now that he’s made you delirious off his kisses alone.
The officers building is full of people today so privacy is near non-existent and though you know this is probably a terrible idea, you can’t be stopped. Helping you off his lap Simon sets you on your feet to the side of the desk, giving you the space to do what you need to do. He watches with hungry eyes as you undo the button keeping your bottoms secure; goddamn you are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?
Adjusting himself, he sits back more in his chair. “Slower,” he demands firmly. 
Instantly your movements become measured as you take your time undressing while you keep those beautiful eyes directly on him. He doesn’t break eye contact at all; instead his hand slips down over his abdomen to the crotch of his own pants where he tugs at the fabric tenting there before massaging the spot as he watches your little striptease. Those unflattering uniforms keep all those voluptuous curves hidden from his view and so any chance he gets to see you out of them is a treat indeed. 
You drag the zipper down painfully slow, making sure to give him all the tantalizing he wants. As the front now hangs open, you slide your hands back to your hips where you slip your fingers into the waistband and begin to push them down until the top seam of the panties clinging around your hips are exposed. 
Eyes unblinking, breathing stayed, Simon is caught in the moment, his hand pulling up the hem of his shirt just over his navel so that he can fiddle with his belt buckle until he can pry the damned thing loose. He grunts as he has to roll his hips back so that he can slip his hand between the bulk of stocky muscle on his lower abdomen and the seam of his pants to get it off. The metallic clink rings out and he quickly undoes the rest, plunging his hand inside to pull out his cock so that he can palm it and give it a proper stroke as you continue on. 
Instantly you freeze as your eye catches that trail of sparse hair traveling down the line of his stomach below his belly button towards his member and your mouth begins to salivate and a hard, throbbing pulse between your thighs makes your legs feel like liquid. God, you are so down bad for your superior that it is bordering on pathetic the way that even that small patch of hair has you chomping at the bit.
Simon clears his throat as he catches your sight lingering and as you meet the glint in his eyes and the smirk on his kiss-raw lips, you refocus on the task at hand. These pants still have to go and time is of the essence. You continue on, pushing the fabric down over the curve of your ass to your thighs and then your ankles in the same slow fashion, only this time more unsteady as your heartbeat pounds. They hit the ground and those damned pants are finally off; there you stand before him in nothing but your panties.   
 “Off,” he hisses as his head nods down to the last article of clothing keeping you from being filled by him.
There’s heat bubbling in your cheeks now, making them flush, and though you are almost rendered dumb just from the tension alone there’s still a little fire in you yet. “What’s the magic word?” you ask with a good bit of sass. 
A chuckle escapes his mouth as his hand strokes harder around his dick; he does love a bit of cocky pushback, but make no mistake that that will be remembered for later. His mouth yearns to devour your lips again and he doesn’t want to wait any more than he already has, so he lets it be…for now. Leaning forward in his seat he reaches out and his large hand wraps around your wrist to pull you back to him.
“Keep ‘em on all ya fuckin’ want sweetheart, don’t need ya to take ‘em off for what I wanna do,” he groans as he grabs onto your hips and forces you to move yourself back on top of him straddling over his lap. 
Fair enough. 
You can feel his warm fingers twitching with anticipation as they move in between your thighs and up against your clothed sex before his digits hook themselves into the crotch of your panties and wrench them to one side roughly. The seam digs into that soft area at your upper inner thigh as you loosely wrap your arms around his neck while a hand on your hip aligns your body at the perfect spot over top of him. 
Holding the base of his cock, Simon pushes down on your hip and you don’t fight it. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl, now let’s get this in,” he praises as the tip pokes through your petals and against your entrance. A harder press on your body and his cock shoves its way inside, stretching you wide as it slips in and you whine inside your closed mouth as you struggle to take him in so quickly. 
“F-fuck,” he exclaims, his body shuddering as you come all the way down until you are once again sitting on his lap only this time with all of him thrust deep inside you. “Isn’t this better? Goddammit, this is where ya fuckin’ belong princess.”
His forehead comes to rest on your own, staggered breath being siphoned between the pair of your lips before he leans up into you and crushes your mouths back together in sloppy kisses that leave you with a yearning that situates itself deep in your core. Your mouth is like candy, sweet and addictive, and each brush of your lips against his own only makes him vibrate with a need for more. Long fingers find their way back to tangle in your hair to grip it hard as he smashes his face in until your features are molded together.
Those soft, supple lips are his to ruin and he will, by fuck he will. With each fiery embrace he lays his claim upon your mouth as if he wishes to bind your faces together so he never has to do without their euphoria. Without warning his strong, thick tongue parts your lips with ease and plunges fully inside your mouth to dance and twist with your own, filling the orifice to capacity as he shoves it down the back of your throat. 
You can barely intake air with your mouth full of his tongue, but it doesn’t matter. Suffocation feels like a dream when you are stuffed so overwhelmingly from above and below. Your pussy holds him tight, tight enough that the throbbing from the blood rushing to engorge his cock feels like he’s being stroked without any movement. Each throb has a visceral reaction and you can feel the wetness gathering by the second with every beat. 
The dizzying intensity of his kisses and the pulsating of his cock are too much and leave you clenching your thighs, squeezing him in the process as you cannot help rocking your hips, but that is dangerous territory. Simon is already teetering close to the razor’s edge.
“Don’tcha fuckin’ move,” he says with a sharp hiss of breath, wrangling your hips down square against his pelvis with a heavy grip so that you cannot shift them at all. “We don’t have time to do this proper, just need to feel ya to get through this fuckin’ day and then I’ll do it right later.”
There is desperation on his lips something vicious and it can be felt in the way his embraces become more aggressive; through the haze fogging your brain you instinctively know he is holding on by a thread. Doing as he says, you do your best to keep yourself still to allow his cock to soak in you just as he wants. 
Your arms around his neck tighten as you grip on to sanity and his hands travel back up your body to cradle your face between them. There’s nothing outside of the taste of your lips, the burn from the pressure of your mouths together, the throbbing from inside your tight pussy as it coats his cock in your nectar. It all becomes an insatiable blur as his mind numbs and he forgets everything else outside of the ecstasy of you. 
The longer he’s buried in you the more your walls swell to squeeze him tighter and he does not realize what is happening. Simon forgets that he is getting too worked up, succumbing to all that pleasure that he cannot stop his body from its more primal instincts. With each passing minute the tension from the coil knotting in his abdomen is drawing closer together, threatening to snap at any second and send him coming and coming hard. 
Eyes closed, mind gone, body so warm it feels like he is on fire, the feeling of your body driving him insane, it is all too much. That coil has tightened all it can and he finally becomes aware of it just as you accidentally rock your hips ever so slightly, but it is enough that there is nothing else he can do other than accept what is about to happen. 
“Fuck,” he groans against your parted lips as he realizes that he has miscalculated just how much he can take. “Ugh…fuck, baby.”
It’s too late, this cannot be stopped and at the last second he reacts. With a sharp, loud grunt he picks your hips up and rocks his own back to pull out of you just as he pops off. The sticky, warm emission spurts out of him with force and up onto his exposed belly, catching the bottom half of his t-shirt in its intensity. His lips lock to yours in an effort to keep the noise from those deep, guttural whimpers down as he rolls his hips, milking every last out of the aching tip that he can as you grind against it.
A couple of minutes pass before his pace finally slows and comes to a stop with nothing left to give as that swift flow of exhaustion floods his body. Those bruised lips unlatch from your own as he falls against the back of the chair to sit limp as he works to regulate his breathing. Being so worked up is something he is still getting used to, losing himself like that is not a problem he had before you came along. But no one has ever made him feel as if he’d been struck by a live wire before: all excitement whenever you are around.
Just one of the hazards of being with such a vixen.
There is still a pulsing in you that causes your body to continue to ache, but as your wandering eyes land on the watch around Simon’s wrist you see that there are only a few minutes left before you need to be in training and you still have to make it across base. Carefully, you get up off of him and make your way to your pants, redressing fast as those brown eyes cling to your every move.
“See what ya fuckin’ do to me, sweetheart? I’m a goddamn mess for ya,” he sighs as he watches you fix your soaked panties back into place before pulling your pants back on, sad to see such a gorgeous sight be concealed once more. 
“Seems like we have that in common,” you smile as you finish up and lean back into him, using his thighs as support as you give him one last, lingering kiss. You’re already gonna be late, might as well make it worth it. 
Simon wants you to stay, to have you for the rest of the afternoon, but he knows that duty calls and if he doesn’t tell you to go then it’s only going to get harder to leave. “Best get outta here ‘fore I change my mind and do somethin’ stupid to get us both in fuckin’ trouble,” he says with a nod of his head. “We’ll finish this up later, I swear.”
You lean in one more time for a short peck before turning tail and quickly making your way out of the office. Simon’s gaze lingers on your form until you exit and shut the door behind you, leaving him alone to deal with the mess he’s made of himself while his raw lips are already craving yours again. 
“She is a problem,” he chuckles to himself, “a very big fuckin’ problem.”
Tag list: @llelannie
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colonelarr0w · 1 month
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Collapse Into Me
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After a particularly rough day, how do these JJK characters offer their comfort?
INCLUDED - Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Hiromi Higuruma, Ino Takuma, Yuuta Okkotsu, Inumaki Toge, Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
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SATORU is more than happy to gather you in his arms and let you lay there. To him, there's no greater comfort than you laying in his arms, your head tucked perfectly underneath his chin with one hand tangled in your hair and the other tracing mindless shapes into the exposed skin of your back. He'd let you ramble about what made your day so terrible and offer little hums between your sentences – never once interrupting you or making you feel as if he wasn't listening. He would only offer his advice if you wanted it, and even then it was the most heartfelt words he'd ever spoken to you.  
"I'm here for you sweet thing. Just let it all out, okay? Don't want you holding anything in." 
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SUGURU makes it his personal mission to take your mind off of whatever might have bothered you throughout the course of your day. When you return home, the first thing that he notices is your dulled mood – how your eyes focus on anything but him and how you try your hardest to hide the growing tremble to your lips. He doesn't draw attention to it, not wanting to accidentally upset you further. Instead he just pulls you into the living room, where he's set up a small fort for just the two of you; complete with your favorite snacks and drinks, as well as a movie that you had mentioned enjoying.  
"I know you've had a tough day angel, but you're here now with me. Come on, make yourself comfy." 
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KENTO's comfort is the personification of a warm hug paired with gentle, featherlight kisses. He cradles you in his arms for however long you need, rocking your bodies back and forth, his chest rumbling in a gentle hum against the skin of your cheek. He'll guide you to sit down, fingers interlocking with your own as his softened eyes scan over your twisted expression, beautiful features scrunched up in sadness. He'll kiss away the tears as they trickle down your cheeks, offering you words of comfort that he wished he had heard during his moments of need.  
"Come now darling, don't cry. I'm right here with you, everything is going to be alright." 
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TOJI is at first very arrogant, smirking down at you and bluntly pointing out the tears that you're trying so desperately to keep hidden from his gaze. But when he sees that the events of your day had truly left you shaken and unhappy, he's tugging you to his chest and hiding you away from the world. The entirety of your body is dwarfed by his massive frame, face squished into his chest as he leans back on the couch, tugging you over him like a weighted blanket. He says absolutely nothing as you keep yourself hidden away, but he doesn't miss the feeling of your tears as they fall delicately onto his skin. Only when you lift your head to glance up at him does he thumb away your tears — hushing you with a softness that not even he knew that he was capable of.  
"Alright kid, you're okay. 'm right here with ya, shh." 
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CHOSO sits silently with you, both of you simply sitting in the silence that your sadness provides. His fingers are folded together with your own, the pad of his thumb swiping against the back of your knuckle every now and then – another silent reminder that he was there with you. No words need to be exchanged, not that he would mind if you spoke. If you'd rather talk, he will gladly listen. And if not, he's more than okay with sitting beside you, allowing your body to rest against his own. Your head is laid against his shoulder, fingers interlocked, and for a moment, nothing else in the world truly matters.  
"'m here, you don't need to be upset anymore." 
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RYOMEN might not know how to comfort people, but somehow, he figures it out quickly the moment that he sees you curling away from his touch. The tears that adorn your waterline are not a foreign sight to him, but that doesn't mean that he ever wants to see that expression on your face. He doesn't offer you words of comfort, after all, his tongue was sharp and made of silver – it likely would do more harm if he were to open his jaw. Instead, he offers to you a softness that had only ever been reserved for you anyway. He'll let you lay beside him, sharpened fingernails scraping through your hair just like you did for him on those nights where he pretended to be asleep. He may not be the best at comforting, but to you, his presence was warmth personified – a warmth that you needed to combat the coldness of your day.  
"Tch, shut up and let me do this for you … little brat." 
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HIROMI grants you the space that you need to process whatever it is you may be feeling. He'll sit quietly outside of the closed bedroom or bathroom door, simply resting his head against the wall and listening to the softened sniffles that you're trying your best to keep locked within your chest. The moment that the door slides open and you sit quietly at his side, he wraps you up in his arms and allows you to sob into him. Please let everything out in his arms, the last thing that he wants is for you to wake later in the night with your body debilitated by sadness that you had accidentally left to fester. He wants you to know that he is there for you, and if holding you is the way to go about it, then he will happily let his arms go numb for your sake.  
"There, there my love. You've nothing to waste your tears over … I'm here, you're safe." 
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INO is initially silent when you return home distraught after a tough day, but the moment that you sit beside him and let out that heavy sigh that says “I’m exhausted”, he is wrapping you up in a thickened blanket and rushing around the apartment like a chicken devoid of a head. He piles snacks and drinks onto the coffee table and shuffles through the drawer that is filled to the brim with various DVDs. He holds up various options, feeling his heart sink further and further into his stomach at your lack of an answer. After talking to a brick wall, he decides to just sit in silence with you, hugging you against him and deciding that — maybe — a nap was all that you needed. 
“You comfortable sweetheart? Oh … okay, okay. ‘m here, just rest, yeah?” 
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YUUTA offers to walk around Jujutsu Tech with you after finding out about how terrible your day had been, smiling at you and taking both of your hands into his own. He even tells Rika to leave him undisturbed for a few hours, directing all of his attention to you. The silence of your walk is filled with your ramblings about your day, complaints about Gojo, worries about upcoming missions, anything and everything that might be bothering you. He’ll offer advice where it’s needed, cracking jokes if the situation calls for it — but his main focus is being there, being the ear that you so desperately need.  
“I’m sorry angel, I wish that there was more that I could do. But I’m right here with you, and I’m not going anywhere.” 
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INUMAKI is the king of distracting you when you’re upset, opening his dorm up to you and allowing you to hide away in it as if you had spent your entire life living there. He silences his phone for the rest of the day, focusing on you and the things that you want to do in order to take your mind off of whatever had happened prior to seeing him. He’ll offer you the second controller and go easy on you, allowing you to beat him and rub it into his face — eyes crinkling in a loving smile as the spark returns to your expression and body language.  
“Tuna mayo. (I love you).” 
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YUUJI is on the verge of tears when he sees your pained expression, but he doesn’t hesitate to wrap you up in a bone-crushing embrace. He tucks you into his arms, his heart clenching in his chest as you sob into him. His hands rub up and down the length of your back, cheek resting against the top of your head as he shushes you — wanting you to calm down enough so that he could try and help you. He does his best to hold back his own tears, but your sadness is his own, and seeing you so distraught was only making him feel worse and worse by the second. But he hopes that his hug is enough to remind you that he's there with you … and that he was never leaving. 
"Shhh baby, I'm here! I'm right here with you, you're okay … please don't cry." 
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MEGUMI almost immediately brings out his Divine Dogs at the sight of tears rolling down your cheeks – knowing that the dogs would work wonders in bringing you comfort. He sits quietly beside you on the couch, not daring to utter a word as you thread your fingers through the thick fur of one of the dogs, smiling tearfully as it nuzzles affectionately into your hand. He doesn’t say anything to you, nor does he offer any kind of reaction when you shift your body to lean comfortably against him. He wraps his arms firmly around you, resting his chin on top of your head and letting out a small sigh through his nose. He may be the silent type — but his silence cuts through your sadness like a burning knife. It’s comforting … and just so undoubtedly him. 
“Is this okay? Alright … I’m here for you, I hope you know that.” 
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luci-is-a-bitch-x3x · 2 months
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Obey Me! Brothers React to: Under the Table Fun!
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Welcome! to this adventure! The characters may not be how you imagine! I apologize for any poor jokes, bad spelling, and terrible grammar. I don't know why I can't write the content I need to, and why I instead write weird content but uh yeah hopefully you guys like it. Without further ado, please enjoy the content. ♡
⚠︎Caution: NSFW Post⚠︎
Cw: feet, foot jobs? Exibistism? Idk tell me if I missed any warnings. I have no idea what this is but enjoy.
━☆*:・゚✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:・゚✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━
Mc and the brothers are eating in the dinning hall like normal. Mc sits across the table from the character, and while everyone's eating and chatting Mc uses their feet to tease and pleasure the character. (I feel like once the brothers choose a seat at the table it never changes or a fight will break out, but we'll pretend for the scenario that sitting in different spots is allowed)
Lucifer's Reaction:
This man sits at the head of the table so good luck man. The odds of him sitting at a seat rather than the head of the table are low, but not impossible.
When Lucifer first feels something touch his leg he is surprised and suspicious, he immediately thinks it's one of his brothers pulling one of their idiotic pranks. Mans is traumatized by his brothers pranks.
..However when Lucifer glances under the table and sees it's Mc's foot he's amused. At first he thinks maybe Mc just wants to rest their feet on his lap while eating, but he quickly catches onto Mc's plans as they slide their foot up his thigh and begin rubbing it against his clothed groin. Lucifer will indulge in Mc's antics for a little bit, Lucifer may even let Mc give him a footjob under the table until everyone's eating dinner, if he doesn't think his brothers will catch them. But most likely Lucifer will stop Mc after a few minutes of indulging them. Lucifer will direct Mc's foot to a different part of his lap, allowing them to rest their leg on his lap as long as they behave and don't begin their actions again. Lucifer will even hold Mc's ankle with his non-dominant hand while he eats, no it's not cute and for comfort, hes just doing it to prevent Mc from moving their foot, don't let his trickery fool you.
Lucifer's reaction draws no attention to what's happening under the table, he's calm and collected and even when indulging Mc his face only gets a little red and he covers any sounds he makes with coughing or clearing his throat. If he gets to the point where he doesn't feel like he's hiding what's happening well, then he'll simply stop Mc's antics.
There is no way in the three worlds that Mc is getting the Avatar of Pride to cum during dinner with his brothers. An insane thought. According to him. Don't listen tho, remember nothing's impossible if you try hard enough, keep dreaming! One Lucifer is too prideful to pull his cock out for Mc to even give him a proper footjob so their job of getting him to cum with just their feet would be harder than it would be if he wasn't as prideful. Two there is no way, absolutely no way, anyone is getting this man to cum in his pants. Or so he thinks. That would destroy his ego, he's the Avatar of Pride man! That all said, Lucifer will be whisking Mc away as soon as dinner is finished, taking them to his room to finally get the release that is owed to him. After all he indulged Mc's bratty antics, and they got themselves into this situation in the first place.
Mammon's Reaction:
It's actually surprisingly hard to get a seat across from Mammon, I feel like he's the type to want to sit next to Mc on the side Mc's on, and he's not afraid to fight and complain over it, so it'll take effort.
When Mammon first feels something touch him from under the table, he helps or screams in surprise. What was he supposed to do?? It could've been a ghost or something scary! Mammon's reaction causes all the other brothers to look at him, and Mammon being Mammon he probably embarrassedly yells at Mc, so they have to play it off as wanting to scare him. Mc may wait to try again, or if they're bold enough they'll continue to try that night, it'll only take a few attempts for Mammon to adjust and get used to feeling Mc's foot touch his legs and be in his lap, so he'll eventually stop jumping and freaking out.
When Mc finally is able to get down to business and begins sliding their foot up Mammon's thigh towards his groin Mammon freezes, he tenses up and his face goes red, but he recovers quickly and eases up. He covers his face with his hand embarrassedly, but he stays silent, not throwing a fit or making a scene. Mc takes this as a sign to continue, they begin to rub their foot against Mammon's clothed bulge. Mammon will be a good boy and enjoy whatever attention Mc is giving him, he's greedy for all Mc's attention even if he is stressing. If Mc really wants to be spicy and bold, all they have to do is send Mammon a text. He'll do anything his human asks of him, even whip it out so Mc can give him a proper footjob under the table.
Mammon's Reaction does draw attention, I mean Mammon's loud and chaotic so for him to go quiet and his face to be all red, his brothers are going to be suspicious and tease him. Though his brothers probably won't catch on to what's happening unless Mc makes Mammon cum. If Mc makes Mammon cum then everyone in the room will know what's happening under the table, or at least that Mammon is cumming. Mans is too loud for his own good, couldn't even hold back if he tried, which he did.
Mc can definitely get Mammon to cum if that's what they are wanting. Mammon won't cum instantly but it won't take too much work to work Mammon off. When Mammon cums he moans loudly, even with his hand on his mouth everyone can hear it, so all attention is on him. Mammon makes his case worse, instead of trying to play it off Mammon panics and just bolts, he's gone running to his room so fast, leaving Mc with his brothers and his mess. I like to think Mc would have learned some cool spell that could just clean up the mess so they wouldn't get caught, they could just pretend they have absolutely no idea what's wrong with Mammon. Mammon is gonna be mad, he got embarrassed, humiliated even in front of his brothers, but he will get over it. He'll probably be going to Mc's room or dragging Mc to his room by the end of the night. He may even come up with a plan to try and get Mc back, though his plans usually backfire on him.
Leviathan's Reaction:
I'm almost positive that Levi canonly sits across the table from Mc, so doing this with him would be super easy. Just don't push your luck too much, Levi freaks and scares easily, if he doesn't trust that he can sit across from Mc without going through this every time then he'll just stop sitting across from Mc. So it can only be done occasionally.
When Levi first feels something touch him from under the table he freaks out, not nearly as bad as Mammon's reaction but that's because Levi freezes, he becomes a deer in headlights. He freezes his body tenses up and he looks terrified to see what's touching him. When he looks under the table and sees it's Mc's foot, he tenses up more, his face going red, if Levi could become any more frozen he would. I feel like Levi just knows what's going on, he just knows Mc's not just trying to be cute and rest their foot on his lap while eating.
When Levi feels Mc begin to slide their foot up his thigh towards his groin he knows he's done for. Levi is aroused and flustered before Mc even begins to rub their foot against his groin. Levi is frozen in place so Mc has time to tease and mess with the poor okatu. Levi will not be hard to get off, so if Mc doesn't want to put him through that they have to be careful with how much they push and tease him. No matter how long Mc messes with Levi, he'll be sweating, mans is stressing, he's an anxious frozen mess. If Levi snaps out of his panic he may take off running for his room, but he'll be sure to send Mc a D.D.D message. He may yell at Mc over text but he'll also probably beg them to come to his room and finish what they started.
Levi's reaction could cause suspicion and draw attention. It really just depends how much attention his brothers are paying to him that day, say Mc pulls this trick when Levi's in the middle of ranting, then his brothers are obviously going to notice how he suddenly freezes up and gets all flustered and sweaty. Levi darting away to his room actually doesn't cause that much suspension just because he runs away to his room so often. If Mc makes Levi cum he surprisingly won't draw too much attention, he may squeak when he cums but then he's gone, darting off to his room faster than ever before, nobody has time to see the wet spot on Levi's pants before he's out of the room, going to hide away in his room for like a week. Mans is too anxious to go to dinner for a bit.
Getting Levi to cum would be extremely easy. You don't even need to get him to whip it out, which he wouldn't do mans is too anxious for that, what if one of his brothers saw? He'd never live down the embarrassment. Depending on Mc and how fast they want the experience to be over they can have Levi cumming within the first few minutes if not seconds. Trying to give our boy the benefit of the doubt, so let's say minutes. As previously stated his reaction is so Levi like that even if he cums he won't raise suspension, just hiding in his room before anyone even realizes he got up. It doesn't matter if Mc makes Levi cum or not, they will be getting a D.D.D message, it'll probably be Levi yelling at them all embarrassedly. Mc is required to go bribe their way into his room and give him cuddles and apologies. Then Levi may end up wanting to have fun again, in the safety of his room of course.
Satan's Reaction:
Satan seems like the type to sit across from Mc, I think he sits like across to the right or left of Mc not directly across from Mc, but there are occasions when he sits directly across from Mc. So it's not too hard to do this with Satan, but it is a dangerous game to play.
When Satan first feels something touch him from under the table he tenses up, he doesn't know what to think, maybe it's one of the cats he's been hiding in his room. Maybe the cat escaped, followed the smell of food and naturally came to him to beg for food. The only way to see if his theory is right is to look and see. ...looking down Satan is puzzled when he sees it's actually Mc's foot. A million thoughts and ideas scatter his mind and he can't figure what's going through Mc's until he looks up and sees Mc's mischievous smirk. As soon as Satan catches on to Mc's plans his face goes bright red, but he doesn't make a scene or purposely draw attention. He sees what Mc's doing as a challenge, he likes winning especially against Mc. It's almost better than winning against Lucifer..almost.
When Satan feels Mc sliding their foot towards his groin he knows the challenge has started. He keeps himself calm and composed besides his face being bright red and him occasionally clearing his throat. Satan will do absolutely everything in his power to not focus on Mc rubbing their foot against his clothed bulge. Satan is thinking about everything possible, the type of stuff that's instant turn offs to him. Satan does not go silent either, he uses conversations as a distraction so he sits there chatting about the most random things possible. If Mc's doing a good job and he really needs a distraction, he'll start a random conversation with Lucifer, he thought having a conversation with Lucifer would distract him, since he knew it would piss him off. Imagine how awkward that conversation would be, mans is unintentionally drawing attention to himself. Talking to Lucifer does piss him off, but it doesn't take his attention off Mc and their actions under the table. If Satan gets mad enough he might just grab Mc and drag them off to his room in the middle of dinner. He may want to win but he's not the Avatar of Pride so he's willing to admit defeat. However if Satan can control his wrath, he'll try and make it through the whole dinner. He'll only give up if he has to, he's not cumming during dinner with his brothers right there. Do you know what Lucifer would say and think? Satan's not giving that to Lucifer, that prideful bastard would hold that over him for the rest of his life. "Satan couldn't control himself at the table" The arrogant prick would treat him like a child.
Satan's reaction does draw attention and suspension from his brothers. One he's incredibly flustered the entire time, and he's brothers are always pointing out and picking on him when he's flustered. Two he's talking about the most random things, kind of sounding like Levi, and he's only like that when he's talking about a good book or crime show, or cats. It's not that his brothers think that Satan's a "calm person", but his brothers know he can usually hold a conversation. Three, he willingly started a conversation with Lucifer, one that seemingly wasn't supposed to be a prank or an argument, that's immediately suspicious. If Mc ends up getting Satan to cum it will only draw attention because he'll stand up and just bolts to his room, which isn't normal for Satan unless he's mad.
I don't think Satan would let Mc make him cum at dinner with his brothers. Satan has some restraint, and he'll know when he's about to finish, so I feel like he'd just stand up and excuse himself, but before he actually leaves the room I feel like he'd grab Mc and drag them off to his room with him. He may want to win the challenge but he's not determined enough to cum in the middle of dinner with his brothers. If he didn't do that then he'd definitely be messaging Mc once he's in his room, Mc started this mess now they have to finish it. Doing this to Satan is dangerous as Mc has now made it fair game for Satan to get Mc back, so do expect to be experiencing pay back sometime during future meals at the house of Lamentations. Who knows, maybe Satan will be bold enough to do it somewhere besides the house.
Asmodeus's Reaction:
Like with Mammon, I believe it's hard to sit across from Asmo but not as hard as it is with Mammon. I feel like Asmo sits next to Mc because he likes being close to Mc, Asmo like Mammon complains and argues usually when he can't sit next to Mc. But all Mc would have to do is ask Asmo to sit across from them so they can stare at his beautiful face during dinner and Asmo would be all over it.
I can see this going two ways I feel like it'd just depend on Asmo's mood and how goofy and horny he's feeling, the joking way I would say is that Asmo jokingly asks Mc if they are getting friendly under the table, just to realize that Mc actually is. But in seriousness here's his reaction: When Asmo feels something touch him from under the table he squeals loudly and dramatically drawing everyone's attention to him. Asmo goes to make a huge scene, but stops when he sees what touched him under the table.
When Asmo notices it was Mc's foot that actually touched him he squeals again, but this time it's more out of excitement, he knows what Mc's up to before Mc even has to do anything. Even though Asmo has all his brothers attention on him he plays it off like a pro, Asmo will start chattering about some make up brand or something that he's just been DYING to tell his brothers, when. In all reality hes just trying to keep their attention off of what's happening under the table. Asmo's face may get a little red as Mc begins rubbing their foot against his clothed groin but he mostly plays off his arosual extremely well. Asmo will gladly let Mc do as much as they want with this situation, if Mc wants him to whip it out under the table all they have to do is send a message and he's quickly but discreetly unzipping his pants and getting it out. Getting Asmo to cum would not be too hard of a task, you just have to be really dedicated and willing to deal with any repercussions getting Asmo to cum may cause.
Asmo's reaction while it's happening is not too suspicious, his brothers may think he's being extra chatty but besides that he'd hide it really well, Asmo's the Avatar of Lust, he has done all sorts of things and knows how to mask his pleasure well. But making it so Asmo cums could be a problem, now I think he's extremely capable of not being loud when finishing if necessary, but this is Asmo we're talking about, I feel like he's saying he's blessing everyone's ears by letting them hear him finish. But he may also not want to get in trouble, because then they may stop allowing Mc and him to sit next to each other, so he may keep quiet just so it can be done again.
Getting Asmo to cum wouldn't be too hard so if that's Mc's endgame then they're in luck, cause Asmo will let it happen. Asmo has no shame cumming in his pants, he may be upset if it's his favorite pants or undergarments, but he'll just make Mc go shopping with him. If Mc had Asmo whip it out, he'll use a napkin or something so they don't make a mess, especially if he's not trying to get them caught. If Asmo doesn't moan loudly while finishing then he just casual hangs out for the rest of dinner, Asmo will whisk Mc away after dinner, if not to have more fun then to just cuddle and hang out. If Asmo can't whisk Mc away then he'll definitely send a D.D.D message, probably talking about how much fun he had and how naughty Mc is, but he'll most likely mention wanting to do it again.
Beelzebub's Reaction:
It's not incredibly hard to sit across from Beel like it is with some of his brothers. Beel enjoys just sitting at a table with everyone he cares about and eating some good food, though that doesn't mean that Beel doesn't prefer when Mc is in a closer proximity to him then not, Beel just won't make a scene cause he doesn't want to ruin a good meal.
When Beel first feels something touch him from under the table there's like no reaction at all, Man's is focused on eating, he thinks one of his brothers just kicked him whether it was on accident or because he stole some food he doesn't care he's just gonna keep munching away.
When Beel feels something sliding up the inside of his thigh from under the table he finally looks under the table. Seeing it's Mc's foot Beel is a little confused, but he doesn't mind Mc touching him so he just continues eating. When Mc starts rubbing their foot against Beel's clothes groin Beel's face may get a little red and he may make "mmm~" sounds while he's eating but other than that Mc doesn't really get much of a reaction, Beel continues eating all the same. Mc fairly mistakes the lack of reaction as a lack of enjoyment and goes to remove their foot from Beel's lap completely. Beel gently grabs Mc's ankle, moving their foot back to his clothed groin. Mc's confused until Beel ruts a little against Mc's foot while still eating the whole time. Mc gets the point and begins rubbing their foot against Beel's clothed erection. Beel munches away happily, enjoying the pleasure from Mc and enjoying his food, it's one of the best meals he ever had if not the best meal he's ever had.
Beel's reaction does not draw suspicion from his brothers, Beel is always enjoying food so him blushing or groaning in enjoyment is nothing new to anyone who's ever eaten with Beel. If Mc makes Beel cum his reaction will cause attention to be drawn just because of what happens.
Mc could make Beel cum but that's a really bad idea. Mans may start choking on the food he's scarfing down, if Beel started choking all attention is going to be drawn to him, and in a very fast manner, he'd literally be choking, man. So cumming during dinner with his brothers doesn't happen for Beel but he will sit there and enjoy Mc just rubbing their foot against his clothed erection and basically edging him until dinner is over. After dinner Beel will willingly follow Mc to their room to finish things off, Beel's a hungry man so the favor will be returned. Beel is one of the only ones that will straight up admit he wouldn't mind if Mc did it again during a different meal, it made the meal all the better for him, even if Mc doesn't do it again, it'll be memorable for Beel.
Belphegor's Reaction:
It's honestly pretty easy to sit across from Belphie, Belphie is a brat about a lot of things, but where he sits during dinner is not one of things he's a brat over as long as he's sitting somewhere around Mc. It doesn't even have to be close to Mc, as long as he can see and hear Mc he's fine and surprisingly won't throw a tantrum. So sitting across from Mc isn't going to earn any whiny remarks from Belphie.
Belphie is half asleep when he first feels something touch him from under the table. He jolts awake in surprise, causing his brothers to look at him confused. Belphie ignores his brothers's weird looks and looks under the table, seeing it's Mc's foot Belphie's tired mind is nothing but confused. He can tell by the mischievous smirk Mc has that Mc's up to no good, but he's still too half asleep to understand Mc's plan.
It's when Belphie feels Mc's foot sliding up the inside of his thigh that he realizes what Mc's planning. When Mc's foot reaches Belphie's clothed groin and begins to rub against it, Belphie's face gets bright red and his eyes go wide, even though he knew that's where this was going he feels suprised Mc was brave enough to go through with it. Belphie may have been half asleep before this but Mc's actions are enough to have the Avatar of Sloth wide awake now. Belphie is a brat, one would expect him to cause a scene or do something bratty, Belphie even expected himself to do that. But Belphie doesn't throw a fit and grab anyone's attention, nor does he try and do something bratty. Belphie moves his plate out of the way and then lays his head down on the dinning room table, not because he's tired, but because he wants to hide his flusteredness and reactions from his brothers and Mc. Belphie will keep his head laying down on the table like he's sleeping the entire time Mc does their actions, but that doesn't mean he's not enjoying it. The fact that Mc's foot is rubbing against his clothed erection is a clear sign that Belphie's aroused and enjoying it, but Belphie occasionally ruts his hips, grinding against Mc's foot which shows he's really enjoying it and being a needy brat. Like usual. Belphie is at Mc's mercy, he'll oddly be a good boy and just sit there and take whatever attention Mc will give him. Because he's an attention whore.
Belphie's reaction doesn't draw suspicion unless he cums or makes too much noise while enjoying Mc's actions. Belphie falls asleep at the table often, he falls asleep literally everywhere, honestly his brothers probably looked over to make sure he wasn't laying on food and then his brothers probably went back to doing their own thing while eating. The fake sleeping act totally would work for Belphie with this. If Belphie cums he may draw suspicion but he could play it off by saying he had a nightmare, Belphie would moan all high pitchedly because he'd be trying to hold back and not make sound, not wanting to be embarrassed by his brothers, so he may be able to say it was more of a scream in fear, but that'll earn teasing too. If Belphie can't get them to not take any lie or excuse he comes up with, he'll try and put all the blame on Mc, he's a brat.
If Mc wants to edge him til dinners over they can, if they want him to cum in his pants they just have to push him over the edge and he'll let it happen. Maybe it's the scenario, but Belphie's brain just blanks, no bratty way to combat Mc's actions, nothing but enjoying the pleasure Mc's ballsy enough to give him during a meal with his brothers. If Mc chooses to make Belphie cum they have to be willing to deal with any consequences if there are any. The rest of the brothers would def make a big deal out of it, and punishments could be dished out. Idk if they'd be the kinky kind this time man. If Mc and Belphie don't get caught he'd hide the wet stain on his pants from his mess with his little cow pillow, then after dinner he'd head up to the attic or follow Mc to their room. He's got pay back to give and then cuddles are deserved. Truthfully I don't think Belphie would mind it happening again, I could see him honestly just liking Mc keeping him awake at random times by edging him, and meals would be one of those times.
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Thats all for now babes! Hope you enjoyed!! ♡ This is not proofread. Feel free to comment or reblog any thoughts or any add ons you have! Sorry some of these aren't as great as others, I just spaced out writing each one too much. Do you guys want a version of this where it's the brothers doing something to Mc during a meal? Let me know if so. Anyways more content is coming soon so Stay Tuned! Stay Safe! & Stay Groovy Scooby! ♡
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samodivaa · 6 months
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You Are Art
Request : College!Bucky x Artist!Reader where Bucky is a nude model partner for life drawing.
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Warnings - smut, soft sex Words - 2.3k AN - Me personally, would draw Soldat. ;o
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All art is a kind of confession, more or less oblique—because one eye sees, the other feels. And the human form that you need to draw will include a physiological precondition that is indispensable—intoxication, lust. If you can say your feelings for him in words, there would be no reason to paint him—you wouldn't have asked him to be your model.
Bucky grows pale as death, he gazes into your eyes with a strange, wild, reproachful look as his lips tremble and vainly endeavors to form some words, then his mouth twisted into an incongruous smile. “Should I…undress now?” His face gave evidence of suffering. You are considerably amazed. “Yeah if you are comfortable? Does something worry you?” “I have scars” Bucky says all this perfectly seriously, and without the slightest appearance of joking, indeed, he seems strangely gloomy.
“There is no need to-”you say, seriously and with deference. 
Never judge a work of art by its defects―Washington Allston “I want to, I promised you”
He interrupts suddenly, with a look of weariness, focusing on his lungs, on his ability to take a deep breath, to soothe with oxygen as the word rolls off his tongue. He is a handsome man, rather stout, with a very polite and dignified manner. He is always well dressed, and his clothes are always exquisite. Your conscience very soon informs you that is the proper narrative to tell. You met in the first semester, he is a business major looking to commission an artist for his project. You admit, that among the many silly and thoughtless actions of your life, the memory of that encounter comes prominently forward and reminds you that it lay long like a stone on your heart—ever since that, you stayed friends—it makes sense, doesn't it? For him to return the favor. There are a few seconds of dead silence before he goes to your small coach to undress. You eyes are flashing in a most unmistakable way, lips were all quiver as you observe his back muscles flexing. You try to speak, to reassure him, but can’t form words, a great weight seems to lie upon your breast, suffocating you. He’s quite tall with broad shoulders and an athletic physique that even his leather jacket cannot hide. You lick your lips, trying to quench the mental thirst for him—his belt clattering noisily as he unbuckles it, popping the buttons of his jeans open, followed by the low purr of his zipper coming undone, he drifts his hands down his sides and hooks both thumbs into his jeans, sliding them and the boxers down his legs. There is a frightened feeling, which makes him scowl and feel ashamed while removing his jacket and shirt until he is fully naked.
As you sit, your eyes turn to the blank canvas, squinting at it in the dwindling light, trying to concentrate. Then you gaze out the window, study the way snow clings to the spruce beside the building, and wonder how you will manage on your own once you have received your degree. With a sinking heart and a nervous tremor, he finally turns to face you. “So you just want me to sit here?” he whispers at last, drawing his breath with an effort, his nerves are terribly overstrained by now. He is sober, but the excitement of this chaotic situation—the strangest day of his life—has affected him so much that he was in a dazed, wild condition, which almost resembles drunkenness “Okay I will just sit here”
Bucky sits on the bar stool that is next to your canvas and his eyes fall upon yours, stop short, grow white as a sheet, and stares motionless, it is clear that his heart was beating painfully. He is gazing intently, but timidly, for a few seconds. Suddenly, as though bereft of his senses, he moves a bit, putting his hands on his tights. He knows that he won’t get hard—worry empties any dirty thoughts he might have. You are mesmerized by the tiny flecks of indigo in his blue eyes—you can drown in those eyes and it wouldn’t be the worst way to go. His beautiful features offer themselves to your gaze as you trail through them, annoyed at how attractive he looks—putting your mind into a darker cloud of irritation. In spite of this scornful reflection of his current mental state, he is looking cheerful as though he is suddenly set free from the terrible burden of worry and he gazes round. “Just don’t move I need to start with the sketch” You crack your fingers nervously before picking up the piece of charcoal—you stare at him, mentally measuring the propositions which helps you with the composition and scale. As an artist, you dip your brush in your own soul, you paint him with love—but you love him beyond words, beyond paint. And you hope Bucky will feel that once he sees the finished art. “Just tell me when you need a break” “Yeah, okay” he answers firmly, after a brief pause. Your voice is positively reflecting a sort of radiance on his face. You think, staring at him deliberately, that it is just another life painting, simply that's his body, his face, that are his eyes, his nose, and yet at the same time, It's a miracle, it's an ecstasy. And your only concern is to capture his beauty. “It is turning out amazing” you continue, pursuing the whirling ideas that chases each other in your brain “You are art, Bucky” He feels a hammering in his head and a faint smile shows on his face. His eyes are riveted upon yours, at first reluctantly and, as it is, resentfully, and then more and more intently.
Why isn't he saying anything? Did you need to say that out loud? The one time you try to implement that you like him and… So you torture yourself, fretting with questions, and finding a kind of enjoyment in it. And yet all these questions are not new, but suddenly confronting you, they are old familiar aches—it grips and rends your heart—maybe he just sees you as a friend.
It tortures your heart and mind, clamoring insistently for an answer, but you don’t dare turn your eyes to him for several moments. Bucky’s heart is beating violently, and his brain is in turmoil. At that moment something seems to sting him; in an instant a complete revulsion of feeling comes over him. He suffers passively, realizing that his cock is getting hard, but that he must do something, do it at once, and do it quickly. 
“Can we take a break now?”
“Of course” you are bewildered, and stare at him open-eyed. You spot it, you can’t miss such a big dick. He gets up and goes to sit on the couch, covering his private parts with his jacket. His thoughts stray aimlessly…he finds it hard to fix his mind on anything at that moment. He longs to forget himself altogether, to forget everything, and then to wake up and begin life anew.
“Things like that happen all the time, no need to be embarrassed. It is nature” Bucky ponders and rubs his forehead, strange to say, after long musing, a spontaneous and by chance, a fantastic idea comes to his mind—to be honest with you. “It is not because of nature” he says all at once, calmly, he has reached a final determination. That answer agitates you, but you keep uneasily seeking for some sinister significance. You get up, slowly moving closer to him, standing in front of his sitting form. Bucky looks at you, your yellow dress of some light silky material, but put on strangely awry, not properly hooked up, and torn open at the top of the skirt, full of colorful stains, close to the waist. You stare straight at him. For one instant, the look on your face, in your eyes, has him puzzled— then he recognizes it. Curiosity—you are shocked, stunned, or thrown into a maidenly fluster. You are curious, you want to hear more, searching his eyes, but couldn't read his thoughts beyond the fact that he is considering you, considering what to tell you. “It is because of you” He stills, but his confident smile doesn't waver.
There is no going back as he removes his jacket, inviting you to madness, to sit on his legs. The sight literally steals your breath. His defined body, his creaminess of his forehead and cheeks, and the determined line of his jaw, the soft vulnerability of his lips, slightly parted. You see the scars on his legs, but your gaze is more drawn to the long block stranding out from his pelvis.
The gorgeous curves of your body somehow delineated beneath taut fabric, his eyes wonder shamelessly to your pink lips simply begging to be kissed. Their shape is etched in his mind, he wants the taste to be imprinted on his senses. "Here? You want me to sit here, on your lap?" The word, weak though it is, accurately reflects your disbelief. Your legs feels suddenly heavy, drowsiness comes upon them.
"Right here. Right now.” 
At this time, the setting, his words and the whole picture are so truth-like and filled with details so delicate, so unexpectedly—it leaves a powerful impression on the overwrought and deranged nervous system. You straddle him, knees dug into the couch beneath you, the solid columns of his thighs hard against your soft limbs. Bucky adjusts his hold as his hands slide about your waist, beneath your dress. You gasp desperately, clenching your hands on his shoulders, fingers sinking deep.
Then he lifts one hand, sliding one finger beneath your chin. 
Your sensitive skin comes alive to his touch. He tips your face up so that your eyes lock on his with heavy lids, watching flaring passion light your eyes. Sparks of pure innocence and want flashes in the depths as he gently kneads, then sends his fingers of his other hand to glide over your silken back. Desire heightens, needs escalates—and he is in no rush, you are too important to rush—conquering your senses and body is not all that he wants. He wants you forever and even though he doesn’t have the talent of art, he has the one of love.
He takes possession of your lips, your mouth. His hard lips move on your, and you soften, not just your lips, but every muscle. Slow heat washes through your body. When he pulls back, you swallow, and drag in a desperately needed breath. It is all pleasure, simple love—you become softer—he becomes harder, needy. The touch of his eyes, the touch of his hands. Art. As he is savoring you again, the softness of your mouth is his to enjoy, you feel his desire, the hard, throbbing length pressing against your panties. The softness of your thighs pressing firmly on both sides of his legs as you slowly grind against his cock and you can feel him attempting to buck his hips up to meet yours. The tension, pouring off him in waves, eases, just a little. He sighs, and rests his forehead on yours. Your innocence is addictive, entrancing.
Bucky shivers, eyes shut tight―he lets a low, wickedly teasing laugh. “I love you”
His lips brushes your in an inexpressibly tender caress. You kiss him, sliding your hands up, framing his face, so you can let him know―let him feel―your response to his words.
“Are you okay with doing it like this?”he murmurs, his tone deep. You gaze at his eyes, slowly nodding. "Good" The word is a feral purr then his hand slid lower, to lightly caress, with just the barest touch, the sensitive skin, moving the panties aside and rubbing his fingers along your folds, stroking and sliding slowly into you. Sweet pleasure washes through you, making you moan softly. His thumb presses your clit, moving in slow circles as two fingers slide deeper, finding the spot that makes you tremble. There it is.
“I want you inside me, please” The smile on his face, curving those fascinating lips―you are flushed yet so bold with words. He withdraws his fingers. You lift your hips as he tugs and shifts them until he is aligned, but you don’t wait as you sink on his cock to the hilt. A muffled groan escapes your lips as his length stretches your walls and you move your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, rocking slowly onto his cock, the head of it hitting your deepest places. Bucky’s hands travel to massage your breast, eliciting unexpected loud moans from you. His eyes locked on your face. “Don’t slow don’t, keep on riding me”
He states, his voice very low, it sends a most peculiar thrill through you, he grabs at your hips, impatiently thrusts up hard into your core, urging you to continue. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the small studio as you keep the moderate pace.
“I will come, Bucky” You keep on hitting your cervix as your trusts become harder, your nubile breasts swing with the force of your body rocking. An impossible pleasure goes through you, cumming violently, your throbbing walls milking his cock as he keeps on trusting through your orgasm, moaning before filling you up with his cum. 
“I think that sex is a form of art” You kiss him long and soft, and when you pull yourself away, you touch his mouth with your fingers. “I suggest you not to think more, Bucky”
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weebsinstash · 1 month
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I'm not typically a fan of pregnancy au stuff for hazbin because it introduces a hell lotta new questions, but anyways, I DO find it absolutely entertaining thinking about a Reader who did the nasty with Alastor and had kind of a friends-with-benefits situation with him and he does his whole 7 year disappearing act without warning you or telling you anything at all (assumedly because he did not have a choice or opportunity) and he comes back, knocking on your front door, "say, doll! What's say we mosey on over to our old favorite jazz club to catch up on old times?"
and suddenly peeking out from behind your back is just the cutest little fawn with a head full of curls who is very clearly Alastor's son, clutching at your apron, "Mama, isn't he the man you listen to those old recordings of? He sounds the same"
Alastor feeling this, this WARMTH in his chest as you invite him inside your home and it's completely different from the last time he was there, filled with everything your son could need, his drawings and report cards from that nice school you break your back to afford stuck lovingly on the fridge and a hot home-cooked meal currently cooling on the stove as Alastor's invited for some food... if he feels comfortable. You and him discuss privately where your son can't hear as you get all weepy, "I'm sorry, but when you disappeared, I couldn't... ASK you what you would have wanted... I didn't want to have some kind of, of PROCEDURE and you hate me for it... and even from the very first scan, I loved him so much... he's my entire world... I couldn't even CONSIDER... getting rid of him. He's my beautiful smart baby boy and i would die for him"
Genuinely I think it would be real funny if Alastor is initially quite jealous actually for having to share you with a CHILD, but the more time he spends around the young boy, the more he realizes, oh, this is quite the upstanding young fellow! His mama raised him right and he likes to help around the house, likes to read lots of books, loves all kinds of music, helps his mother on all the crosswords and word searches and puzzle books, and he's smart enough to suss out pretty quickly, "sir are you my father"
and the second your son receives an answer, just, KICKING THE RADIO DEMON IN THE SHIN, "You're a horrible man!! You call yourself a gentleman but you left my mama to raise a baby all by herself!! You're terrible! Incorrigible! Disrespectful! Untoward!--" Your young son is breaking out the goddamn dictionary and synonyms on this man, "you lying, deceitful, devious, DEPLORABLE--"
And Alastor is watching this little kid threaten to beat his ass and not even caring that he's up against The Infamous Radio Demon, just shouting at Alastor until the young boy is absolutely changing colors in the face, getting SO SO upset for his mama that he's ready to FIGHT OVER IT, and Alastor is just, essentially, breaking out into laughter, "oh, so you ARE my son!! Aren't you a gutsy one!! Put JUST a little force behind that next one and it might actually sting a bit!" and pats the boy on the head. That settles it; he's accepted as Alastor's son like THAT
Of course, Alastor now caring for this boy does not come without its... complications. There might be some 'incidents' if you, for example, have other positive role models for your son, other men who are regularly coming around, making Alastor's new position as the boy's father and your not-quite-husband (yet) feel threatened and unstable and encouraging the Radio Demon to 'act out'. You're so happy to have Alastor back in your life that you don't even notice things are a little off until your son starts mentioning things like "Mama where did Mr Thomas go? He used to come by every Thursday to play chess but I don't remember seeing him for a while?" "Mama I know Benson has bullied me and pushed me down and stolen my things but I saw his mom crying outside the bookstore earlier saying he's gone missing and I think we should help look for him" "Mama I know Mr Alastor said we don't need her and he can teach me but I also like my old piano teacher. Could I have some lessons with her and some with Mr Alastor instead of just all of them with him? I miss Ms. Mason"
But like... you don't want to deny Alastor a relationship with his child after they both have already lost so much time and you don't want to deprive your son of his father without a good reason, so you stifle some of your suspicions. It's all for your son's sake, isn't it? And you can't help but, get a little selfish when Alastor insists on taking you and your boy out, going to see live bands, going to local events, taking your son to the county fair and you feeling tears in your eyes as, your boy finally gets to spend time with his father. It's like... it's like you're a real family... you've always wanted something like this, for him, for them, for yourself--
But... Alastor doesn't... see you THAT way, does he? He displays his emotions much differently than you, and there were even times in the past where Alastor himself drew the line in the sand that, oh yes you two were quite close friends, he has such a deep affection for you, but... romantically? Sorry, sweetheart, but no
... or so he thought. Now that he's back, he sees how deeply you love his son and sacrifice so much for him amd how much your son absolutely adores you and how, completely by yourself, without any of Alastor's help, you raised him into a fine young man that... the Radio Demon could see himself helping raise, a boy he can't help but feel a little pride in helping make and, can't help but feel a little sad he missed all sorts of important milestones for. And of course, of course of course of course, he missed YOU ever so much, and when Alastor looks up from his paper to see you at the stove, hair all out of place and your hands messy as you cook a meal for your son and his father, your little boy dutifully helping clean as you go, he can't help wish that THIS was how he spent his last 7 years.
Lucifer have mercy on anyone who tries to disrupt his new utopia of peace and tranquility. Could you even imagine, could you even fucking imagine you and Alastor are walking with your son and nearby TVs snap on and it's fucking Vox, showing your family on TV, talking shit to Alastor, using HORRIBLE language in front of your son--
And Alastor feels his love for you grow all the more as you use your own magic to surge through the television and begin strangling the newscaster right on the air, "DONT YOU DARE SHOW MY SON'S FACE ON TV YOU FUCKING--" and Alastor starts lovingly conversing with his son about how important it is to stand up for your family and your values as the pair of them watch you throw Vox around his recording studio in a frenzied rage, "You and your disgusting Vees always trying to peddle your worthless garbage to kids, you CREEPS!! BABIES DON'T NEED IPADS, RETINOL CREAMS, SKEEYEE DANCE ROUTINES, AND ATHLEISUREWEAR LEGGINGS THAT GO UP THEIR ASS, YOU CONSUMERIST IMMORAL SHELL OF A HUMAN BEING--"
Snapcut to you rejoining your family on the sidewalk with your hair a mess and visible blood on you while Vox is facedown on the floor in his broadcast unable to move before it cuts to a "technical difficulties, please stand by" screen. Alastor is oh so genuinely joyfully smiling, "Now who wants to go and get some waffles? I say we should celebrate any victory over our enemies with some tasty grub!!" and he takes you and your son's hands and is all but skipping down the sidewalk while his hated rival is bleeding out in his tower somewhere. Oh, Alastor will give the Television Demon his own revenge for daring to try and shame the lovely beautiful mother of his child and his beloved boy on that disgusting show. What kind of degenerate uses children for content, let alone threatens their safety? Alastor will be back for him later and do much, MUCH worse than you did.
For now, though? Alastor just wants to enjoy the sight of you and his son sitting in a booth with him while you all scarf down some hotcakes. A family of his very own, huh? How wonderful. If only his own mom were here to see it...
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hothammies · 2 months
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the party leader, mike wheeler - apoc au character details + poll under the cut!
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mike's role in the party:
a scouter - essentially plans runs, checks areas first to ensure safety, and directs the runners during supply runs
assigns basic survival chores at the beginning of each day (laundry, boiling water, patrol, hunting, etc.)
is the "face" of the party -> always the one to negotiate with people of other groups
even though the party likes to give him shit for being kind of rude and bossy about how he talks to them in "leader" mode - they always hang onto his every word! they love and respect him deeply
kind of like a tired dad whenever he's not fighting with someone else -> basically watches over everyone to make sure they're okay
would never hesitate to do something deplorable to protect the party: family first
skills + hobbies:
considered the designated driver (along with max): nancy taught him when he was younger. he was scared about being useless due to his inability to shoot and aim guns so nancy helped him find something useful. max teaches him how to drive manual so that he can drive her muscle car (its how they get over their distaste for each other)
writes an entry in a journal that he stole every day! he lets will doodle in the margins of the paper :)
loves to read whatever's around - particularly interested in history, sci-fi, and old journals from people before the apocalypse (reads them with dustin and el -> they are nosy as hell and live for the drama)
great at using machetes and hatchets -> do NOT let this boy shoot a gun. he will accidentally hurt you and himself
good at fixing up guns and navigating - lucas (guns) and dustin (navigating) taught him :D
quirks / fun facts:
he likes to switch around the pins on his jacket a lot! the party find pins around to give to him (range from terrible to wearable)
since he's the only boy that likes to tie up his hair, max and el like to doll up and play around with his hair during their downtime
is very annoying and particular when it comes to doing survival chores (out of love) -> makes sure that the chores are divided equally among all of them and that no one gets the same chores twice in a row
--- other notes: mike was the first character i had in mind when thinking about this au (no surprise there) and the drawing of him sitting cross legged with a machete in his hand was the first ever "official" drawing i made for this :D i tried to make apoc mike similar to canon mike in terms of his temperament, his hero complex, his self-sacrificial tendencies, his inability to appropriately process his romantic feelings, his natural leadership and his personality. about mike's inability to use guns -> looking at mike's character dnd sheet, his dexterity is low and s1 mike wheeler cannot aim for shit either (see his rock throw). the reason he's most comfortable with machetes (and hatchets) is because of their versatility as both weapons and tools! just wanted to share because i think mike needed a nerf and him not being able to shoot guns is both in character and funny as hell to me i've had mike and will's char sheets done for a while and i really love the way they look :) i'm excited to post will's next! i'm working on the character sheets in batches of two, so which duo are yall most interested to see next? i'll work on them based on the poll results and post them next week at the earliest :) i'll prob also try out some concept designs for the demogorgon-like zombies sometime soon as well!
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princessbrunette · 2 months
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john b was big. you knew it, he definitely knew it.
that never stopped you from trying to please him though. you were an inexperienced thing when the two of you first met, john b still thinking back on the first time you’d asked to go down on him. it was an affair of shy licks, doe eyes, the constant question of “am i doing it right?” followed by the demure command of “please show me how.” the whole idea was ditched pretty quickly, the lover boy hating the idea of putting any kind of uncomfortable strain on you.
you knew your way around the sack a little better now, could take his dick inside you like a champ even though the stretch was still prevalent and it left you bulging each and every time. however, sucking him off still often proved more difficult — your throat apparently just not cut out for it. you were frustrated, because john b was so good at eating pussy, it didn’t seem fair to not return the treatment to the same level of ability.
he can sense this frustration as your brow creases into a frown, dribbling furiously down his aching red tip until your mouth was drawing blanks, trying to lubricate him enough to help the process. he’s smiling softly at you like you were picking flowers or something totally innocent, a distant loved up look in his eye as he cups your face, coarse thumb stroking repeatedly across your cheek and temple to soothe you.
you try him again, taking him into your mouth and beginning to jerk off what you couldn’t reach. you bob your head and he hums, low and raspy in his chest. “good job, pup.” he praises, and something about it makes you stir. your boyfriend genuinely meant it — you were doing a good job, seeing you work to please him made him feel amazing as did your slick mouth and skilled hands… but you wanted to do better than that.
taking a deep breath through your nostrils, you clench one wet fist in your lap as you force yourself down on his length as far as you can handle. “e—easy… baby.” his brows jump higher as he sits up just a little, hands hovering over your head as you hold yourself down. you gag, hard and come back up — sucking in a loud shaky breath. “hey, okay, just go easy sweetheart. remember?” he comforts and you push his hands away, going back down and forcing him into your throat before you’d even fully recovered.
he winces, because yeah — the way your throat tightens around him with each wet gag does feel good. although, he was far too focused on your wellbeing to fully immerse himself. he says your name once, almost in warning before you feel bile rising and you pull off him quickly, aggressively coughing and spluttering. your throat, nostrils and eyes burn and you burst into tears — mad at yourself. he drops everything to scoot forward quickly, going to comfort you. your instinct is to shove away his hands in a slight panic.
“—no—” you gag.
“heyheyheyhey — nonono, sweetheart. breathe with me, yeah? in… and out… just like that puppy c’mon, show me those breathing techniques. remember the ones we did when you got upset? in… good girl…” he finishes silently with an exhale for you to copy and you try, but you’re still sniffling and choking.
“i’m terrible. i’m terrible at this.” you mewl and he shakes his head, cradling you where you kneel.
“who told you that, hm? my sweet girl just pushed herself too hard. thaaaats okay. we live and we learn, don’t we?” he hums in that low timbre that comforts you and you feel yourself calm slightly, your boyfriend swiping away at your tears, snot and saliva. “you don’t need to do all that, pup. you make me feel plenty good. it’s not worth… hurting yourself.” his forehead creases as he stressed this information to you, cupping your cheeks to get you to look at him, ensuring you understood.
you swallow, and make a screwed up face of discomfort at the ache in your throat from practically lodging him down there, possibly bruising your inside. your hand reaches up to touch your neck and his eyes follow.
“is that hurting?” he mutters in questioning and you nod, feeling a little bad for making such a fuss.
“wow, i really should have stopped you sooner. poor girl, huh.” he sighs, gently moving your hand aside to softly massage your throat with his fingers before bringing his lips to your forehead. “yeah i’m sorry the size of me is so…unmanageable… it’s uh— definitely not ideal.” he awkwardly apologises.
“s’not your fault, john b.” you whisper, hating that he blames himself.
“yeah, i know but… yeah.” he dismisses, tucking himself away to pull you up onto his lap. he knows you’ll wanna continue on with having your fun together soon, but for now he needed you to be grounded and feel safe.
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melonn-soda · 2 months
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❝ DON'T LEAVE JUST YET ( LET ME BREATHE WITH YOU ) ... ❞
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word count: 968
warning(s): aventurine/ m! reader, nothing that serious (I believe) other than aventurine just not feeling well, comfort (chara. receiving), ooc aventurine?
prompt: aventurine has a rough start to his morning and he really need you to be with him.
notes: short comfort drabble with aventurine bc I feel like it. also I didn't play the new update so I don't have a clear idea on what his past was like. if anything is considered offensive, please tell me so I may change it!!
fem aligned dni
Mornings with Aventurine are usually slow with the reluctance of wanting to get up and the sluggish movements from underneath the warm covers rendering the possibility because you both are just too comfortable. Your lover is usually always first to get up and wake you, though, through lazy kisses on your forehead with a slight brush of your hair. Sometimes, it's you who was to wake him because he was working later than he would've liked and harder than he has before.
So, as the orange and red hues of the waking sun seep past the forest green curtains and flood the bedroom in all its softness, you stir awake and shift against the man who has you in his hold. Eyelids still feeling heavy, you shuffle so your face is buried deeper into Aventurine's collarbone, his arms that settle themselves around your waist tightening then loosening as he begins to rise from his sleep.
Feather-like kisses are pressed against the edge of his collarbone, just to let him know that you're still awake. He sighs into your hair after a while, sounding more exhausted than you would've like for him to be. In a quick decision, you decide it's best to make breakfast today and begin to draw away from him, slowly, as to not startle his barely awake self.
However, you plans are cut short as you feel him yank you back into place, Aventurine's nose finding its place in-between your neck and shoulder, arms wrapped tighter around your waist. You blink, not moving because he clearly does not want you to leave and that means something is terribly wrong.
"Ven?" You whisper, bringing a hand up to brush some of his bangs that are messily covering his eyes away from them, "You okay? Water?" Questions leave your lips, carefully, as to not scare him away, if that were even possible.
His voice cracks, you're not sure if it's because of the sleep or if he's beginning to cry but it cracks, "Can you just stay for a moment? Please? Don't want you to leave just yet.. Need you t'be with me right now." His eyelashes brush against your skin and his lips graze your neck as he speaks, and as per his request you don't move, attempting to press yourself closer against him even if all of you was as close as humanly possible. It was one of those days for him.
"D'you wanna talk about it?" You ask, running your fingers through his hair. Aventurine's head shakes against you because he doesn't feel ready to open up all of his sensitive memories to you. But that's okay, because healing takes time and you'll wait an eternity for him. With reassuring kisses against his hair and soft strokes of his face, you hope that he gets the message that you'll always be there when he needs you most, waiting and ready to listen.
Two hours pass, the sun now fairly high in the sky, making the room brighter. Somewhere in between those hours, you fell right back asleep unknowingly for a few minutes but always awoke to Aventurine still holding you tight (not that you minded). Each time that happened, yours lips pressed against his forehead to tell him you're awake now.
"...Thank you for not leaving." Aventurine mumbles onto your skin, slowly pulling away from you. His face was now visible, saturated swirls purple and green not facing your direction and instead directed at the end of the bed, "Sorry if I inconvenienced you."
You shush him softly, bringing your hand up to his cheek and brushing your thumb against his cheekbone, "I don't mind one bit. You matter so much more than anything else that I need to do today. If anything troubles you, I'm happy to just be there for you. Don't feel bad about asking for some company, Ven." A kiss is placed right between his eyebrows and Aventurine can't help but melt. His boyfriend, someone who treasures above all, is all he could've asked for. So patient, so gentle, so considerate, someone who he knows he could place all his trust in even if his instincts refuse to comply.
And when Aventurine looks into your eyes for the first time this morning, he feels at ease to see that you gaze at him with those same loving eyes as you always do. No anger directed at him because he refuses to tell you all about his life, no disappointment because you feel like he doesn't trust you enough, nothing. Nothing but love.
"I should- um, probably go make us some breakfast." He stutters, making a motion to slip out of his side of the bed. His silk pajamas glide against the sheets smoothly, only to be pulled back and have the sheets tossed right back over his chest, "Huh-?"
"Nuh uh," You quickly deny him, taking one of the stuffed animals on your side of the bed and placing it next to him, "I'll take care of that today, you need to rest, even if you're not tired. I'll call you in sick or something so you can have the day off."
"But-"
"But nothing, Ven," A peck to Aventurine's lips quickly shuts him up, "Just relax, it's the least you could do. You deserve this more than you think you do. I'll make some French Toast for us, yeah?" You tell him, slipping out of bed and your feet sliding into your fuzzy slippers. And with a click of the door, you're off to cooking.
Aventurine stares at the door for a bit before holding your stuffed animal close to his chest, the toy still smelling like you. He's glad he has someone like you in his life. Because of this, he doesn't think he'll ever stop loving you.
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heraxic · 1 month
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Hello :o
I just wanted to say thank you (and also thank crumb) for getting me back into thinking about Karl Heisenberg 24/7.
I really love your artstyle, from the amazing expressions (especially the peeved/angry ones) to the scribbly lineart. As someone that’s trying to learn to draw more digitally, I really like to observe your stuff o.o
Your Moldy Family comics are funny, cozy, sweet and comforting all at the same time, and they made me discover and appreciate Eveline (oh man I love how much of a goth tween she is), and the way you draw Heisenberg (his physicality if that makes sense, his clothes, his hair, his everything) is just *chef’s kiss*.
As a former Greek Mythology child, that AU is so so nice owagh. I love all the monster adaptations/designs, it’s all so clever: I love that Kyril is scaley, hairy AND has wings (which I feel aren’t depicted often nowadays with gorgons), Alina is so majestic, with the black tipped limbs and the blood soaked dress, and the daughters being harpies/sirens(?) is also so perfect.
Idk if you’ve already said it, but what is it about Karl’s character that made him interesting to you?
I hope it makes sense (I’m a bit tired) and thank you again for the excellent food :]
Thank you so much!!!<<<3333
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he lives in my head rent free…. his crusty-ass hair and barrel-shaped bod gets me every time
im glad you like my scribbly lineart! I tend to get concerned whether it really looks like anything haha
I miss drawing the mold family but i think my forte has always been fantasy, especially cause i love mythology more than anything. That’s not to say i wont go back to the modern mold family though
For greek au karl i wanted him to look like someone had haphazardly stuck animal parts to him so it’d look deliberately unnatural for him to have a relatively normal human body under all that-
I’m not sure i can fully describe why Karl is so interesting. Surface level, being voiced by Neil Newbon is always a big plus and his face model Joel Hicks is awesome-looking. His character design matches his abilities and personality really well, and speaking of personality, queer-coded villains who make a big show out of everything are always going to be my favourite. His gritty, masculine aesthetic is really inspiring in terms of gender as well. On a deeper level, in spite of all the terrible things he’s done, i find him sympathetic and relatable. After decades spent in a highly dysfunctional family, not living on his own terms, completely alone, I need him to finally be okay and get better for his own sake, with the support of people he trusts. It’s the same reason i love Eveline. Morally dark-grey characters who deserved better and could’ve gotten better with a good support system.
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theowritesstuff · 1 year
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Yours No More
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Nikolai Lantsov x gn!healer!reader
Summary: Hiding an almost-relationship with the Prince of Ravka is hard enough, but it gets even harder to navigate feelings when he’s engaged to a Saint
Prompts: “are you really so oblivious?” & “it hurts, just how much I ache for you.”
A/N: What can I say? I love writing healer!reader. Also once again I’m mixing book canon and show canon
Sobachka - puppy
Moi tsarevich - my prince
Moi tsar - my king
SHADOW & BONE S2 SPOILERS
When thinking about your life, the young prince of Ravka seemed to be a prominent feature. There was before Nikolai, the life you lived before the palace, then there was after Nikolai, the life surrounded by other Grisha, serving the royal family.
You were offered up to the Lantsovs as somewhat of a personal healer, ready to tend to them whenever needed. The king and queen didn’t really have a need for a healer most of the time, and the older prince was often far from the palace. They younger prince however, the sobachka, had a tendency to dive headfirst into danger whenever he liked.
While this very well could have made Nikolai a thorn in your side, you’d quickly grown fond of him. It was impossible not to, what with his crystalline blue eyes, the blonde waves that adorned his head, and his charming, carefree spirit.
You’d been given an easy role. You’ve seen how other Grisha are treated amongst the other royals, sometimes even the soldiers from the First Army. Your poor friend Genya was dealt a terrible hand when it came to the roll she played in the palace, so you were grateful for the young prince’s kindness.
He became just as infatuated with you as you did with him just as quickly though. Whenever you ran to him healing a scraped knee, or when his parents sent you with him when he joined the First Army specifically to tend to him, you stole his heart little by little, until he could no longer call it his own. He almost looked forward to getting hurt, because it meant he could call upon you.
If asked he’d deny it, but he begged his parents to let him take you with him whilst he studied for his apprenticeship. They were hesitant to send you away, to lose their best healer, but Nikolai was persuasive.
He asked you to tailor him, just enough that no one would recognize the prince of Ravka on a ship. You reluctantly agreed, slowly waving your hands over his face, changing the features you’d grown to find comfort in. His blonde waves now a bright red, stark against his pale skin. His once sparkling blue eyes were now a muddy green color. The only thing that really remained of your prince was the ever present smirk he had.
“How do I look?” He asked you.
“Different.” You nodded.
“Good. No one will be able to pick me out of a crowd.” He looks over himself in a mirror.
“I could.” You stand behind him. “I think it’d be quite easy to pick you out.”
He smiles, but furrows his brows. “How so?”
“Well, let’s start with your posture. You’re still too regal. Relax your shoulders a bit. You’re no longer carrying the weight of a prince.” You place your hands on his shoulders, using your thumbs to massage the muscles. “Then there’s your charm-”
He quickly turns his head to face you, a bold smirk resting on his face. “You think I’m charming?”
You laugh. “I think you’re confident, sometimes overly so. I think you have this air about you that draws others to you.”
“Are you?” He asks, his voice barely above a murmur.
“Am I what?”
“Drawn to me?” He leans closer to you, his eyes shifting down to your lips.
Before he could press his lips to yours a sharp knock sounded from the door. You pulled away from each other quickly, both trying to hide your flustered states.
“Come in.” Nikolai called.
Tamar opened the door and poked her head in. “Love the new look captain.” She laughed. “Ready to go?”
Sailing the seas with Sturmhond took some getting used to. The few Grisha you knew helped you settle into this new life, while others in the crew wondered why their captain kept a healer so close.
You shared a bunk with a few of the other crew mates, but more often than not, Nikolai pulled you away to the captain’s quarters. He wanted to keep you close to him.
“What if someone breaks into my room and stabs me?” He asked, shrugging.
You shook your head. “Then you’d probably want the Bataar twins here to protect you.”
“Here I’d be. Laying on the floor, blood pooling out of my chest.” He collapses to the floor with a loud thud, a hand over his chest. “Slowly letting the life drain from my body.” He closes his eyes for a moment.
“Don’t be so dramatic sobachka. I know you wouldn’t take death laying down. You’d fight it until your very last moment.” You roll your eyes at him, but can’t help your smile from growing. “Even then, you’d probably drag your corpse to me.”
“I would.”
Occasionally, in the quiet night, he’ll allow you to wipe away the tailored face you’ve created for him, and bring back his softer Lantsov features. You brush a hand through his gold locks, pushing them away from his face.
He lets you admire him in silence. A clever quip waiting on the tip of his tongue, but he never allows it to escape in fear that it will ruin these moments with you.
“Moi tsarevich.” You sigh as your fingertips travel from his hair down the side of his face, tracing over his cheekbones.
“You don’t have to call me that.” He whispers to you. His eyes remain locked on yours as yours travel around his face, memorizing every detail of him.
“Nikolai then.” You give him a soft smile.
You reluctantly pull yourself away from him after a while, ready to tailor him back into his privateer persona. “It’s probably time for Sturmhond to return.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“Well,” now you smirk at him. “I think the prince is decidedly more handsome than the pirate.”
“Privateer. It’s an-”
“Important distinction. Yes, I know.” You laugh as you slowly tailor him back into Sturmhond.
Once finished you walk over to the other side of the room, where he’s added a bunk specifically for you. You blow out the few candles that were lit, and climb into your bunk.
“Y/n?” Nikolai calls from the other side of the room.
“Yes?”
“Do you really think I’m handsome?” You can hear his grin.
“Good night Nik.” You roll your eyes affectionately, rolling over to face the wall.
He falls asleep with a smile on his face, your new nickname for him floating around in his head.
You’d fallen into an easy routine with Nikolai aboard the Volkvony. You spent time with the crew during the day, tending to injuries, sometimes even practicing the heartrender specialties with Tolya or Tamar. Then the evenings you’d spend with Nikolai. You keep him company as he makes plans for where the ship is going and why, you show him what the twins have taught you.
“Watch this, I can adjust your heartbeat a little bit!”
He watches as you do the heartrender motions in front of his chest. He can feel his heartbeat quicken just a little bit, but whether it’s from your powers or your close proximity he’s unsure.
“You don’t need to use your powers to make my heart speed up.” He takes your hands in his and holds them to his chest. You feel his heartbeat through the thick blue coat he’s got on, and sure enough it’s beating faster than usual.
He’s smirking down at you, proud of how flustered he’s seemed to make you as you pull your hands away from his chest. You excuse yourself, and quickly leave him there, wondering whether or not he holds the same power over your heart that you do his.
Evenings are spent sharing moments with Nikolai, both of you teetering on the line that divides friendship and more. Quiet moments shared where you both wonder what would happen if you crossed that line. If you just leaned into each other, and took what your hearts most desired.
When Nikolai had taken in Alina Starkov and Mal Oretsev you were nervous. You knew Nikolai had a penchant for adventure, but harboring the sun summoner and a deserted First Army soldier was an entirely new venture.
You knew that he wanted to take them back to Ravka, to regroup with the First and Second Army there to find a way to destroy the Fold and take down Kirigan. He helped them find and kill the sea whip, giving Alina another amplifier to use, while you stayed behind on the ship, away from the danger.
Nikolai grew closer and closer to Alina as time went on, well after she learned who he actually was then punched him out of frustration. It was clear he was trying to create some sort of relationship with her, a type of alliance between the Ravkan royals and the living Saint.
Whilst Alina became closer with the prince, you started to form a bond with Mal. He was a bit hesitant about you at first, having a hand in keeping Nikolai’s identity a secret was a little hard to forgive, but he found you were a nice change from the air that Nikolai brought with him wherever he went.
“You spend practically every minute with him. You must find him insufferable.” Mal scoffs, watching Nikolai attempt to win over Alina.
It breaks your heart a little, watching him with her. It almost feels like you’ve been pushed to the side in his life. What was once a life long friendship has now turned into a mere partnership. He’s replaced you in his heart with a new Grisha, one much more powerful than you.
“No.” You shake your head. “His company means the world to me.” You tell Mal, quiet enough so he’s the only one that hears you. “You know what that’s like though. To spend so much of your life with someone that you form what you think is an unbreakable bond with one another.”
He gives you a sympathetic smile. He feels the same way. He knows Alina loves him, he’s sure of it, but like you, he fears that something could pull her away from him.
Being back in the palace separates you even more from Nikolai. Instead of sharing a room with him, you now occupy a room at the other end of a hallway from him. You both long for one another in the quiet night. His room is far too empty, and his bed far too large for just himself.
You think that maybe he’ll ask you to stay with him, like on the Volkvony. That you’ll share a space with him again and you’ll have that little bit of peace you once shared. But he never comes to your door, and you never go to his.
Nikolai doesn’t fail to notice your relationship with Mal starting to grow. While you once sat by his side during meals, Alina now occupies your seat, and you sit with Mal, laughing with each other about something only the two of you can hear.
He feels something in his chest, a sharp pain to his heart. This is something even you, the best healer he’s ever known, couldn’t fix.
You feel the same pain when he announces his engagement to the sun summoner. Unlike Nikolai, it takes a moment. He announces it at dinner, while the First and Second armies are gathered together, that their marriage will help heal Ravka. You’re frozen, too shocked to move. It’s Mal that pulls you back to reality, his hand on yours.
You feel the pain in your chest, a twisting sensation in your stomach, as you turn away from Mal to look back at Nikolai. He’s looking around at the cheering soldiers, but his eyes catch yours for a moment. He sees the red that begins to outline them, and the tears welling up. He looks like he might go to you, to assure you that you have his heart, and not Alina. But he straightens himself out, then sits back down.
He desperately wants to follow you as you quickly exit the room, no doubt heading back to yours. He wants to chase you down the halls, to wrap you up in his arms and wipe away the tears he’s the cause of, to whisper words of love against your lips. But he can’t. He must marry Alina for the sake of his country.
He keeps an eye on you at the engagement party his mother threw for him. You’re talking with other Grisha. You look breathtaking. The only thing missing from your ensemble is the Lantsov emerald. You don’t spare him one glance at all that night. That is, until chaos ensues.
Shadow monsters destroy everything in sight, and take the lives of so many. You search for Nikolai in the bustling crowd, but a hand grabs your arm, pulling you away. Zoya drags you away from the scene before you, tugging you through numerous hallways.
She leads you to a series of tunnels underground, all while you try to pull away from her.
“You won’t be of any use if you die trying to save the prince.” She grumbles at you. “You’re one of the few healers here, and we’re going to need all the help we can get.”
You hate to admit it, but as usual she’s right. There are dozens injured, some worse than others. You’re about to get to work when someone calls out your name.
You look down to the other end of the hall to see Nikolai. He looks fine, no visible injuries, but he does look distraught. He practically sprints to you, and pulls you into a tight hug.
“I couldn’t find you. You weren’t there, and I thought-”
“I’m fine, I’m fine Nik.” You pull away just enough to be able to look him in the eyes.
His scan over you, searching for injuries, until you lift his chin so he’s looking at your face again.
“I’m okay, I promise.”
He nods and takes a deep breath.
“Besides, shouldn’t I be the one worried about you? I am your healer after all.”
He huffs out a laugh. “Right.”
Alina pulls Nikolai away, asking if he’d seen Mal anywhere. You take that as your cue to leave. You start going from person to person, helping heal them in any way you can.
When it comes time to make a plan for Ravka’s next move, and Nikolai and Alina suggest finding the Neshyenyer, your mind starts to wonder. He’s sending Tolya and Zoya to go to Ketterdam and recruit the Crows to find it.
You think selfishly for a moment. It would be a way to get away from the soon to be king and queen of Ravka. A way to alleviate your heart of the pain you feel when you’re around them.
“I’d like to accompany Tolya and Zoya.” You tell him.
He looks surprised to say the least. “Why?”
“Well, there will be seven people looking for a mystical weapon, danger is bound to arise, they may need a healer.” You attempt to convince yourself and him that this is the reason you’d like to go.
“No. You’ll stay here.” He shakes his head. He can’t fathom so much space between you. “You’re my healer.” He puts emphasis on the word my, you don’t know if he notices it, but you do.
You listen intently for his heartbeat. It’s pace slowly accelerates as he starts to pace around the room.
You step in front of him, blocking his continuous path, and take his hands in yours. He closes his eyes, relishing in the feeling of having you so near. He leans his forehead against yours.
“I think we both know, I am yours no more sobachka.” You murmur.
He shakes his head and opens his eyes. You can see tears slowly start to build up. “If you insist that you must go, take this.” He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his gold compass. “So you can always find your way back home.” Back to me.
The trip to Shu Han was definitely an eventful one. Tolya kept a watchful eye on you after being told explicitly by Nikolai to protect you at all costs. The Crows were an eclectic bunch, no one quite like the other.
Seeing Nina again was nice. She was still the same witty friend you remembered her to be.
“What? The prince let you off your leash?” She laughs when she first sees you.
“The king.” Zoya corrects her.
“Yes, he’s tending to his country, and his soon to be wife at the moment.” You tell her.
Her face falls slightly as she looks between you and Zoya. “Oh. My apologies, I didn’t-”
“It’s alright Nina. I’m really here to help forget about him.” You lower your voice. “Besides, he was never mine to lose.”
You stayed with Tolya through the heist, getting nearly killed by poisonous gas, and choking down a butterfly to save yourself.
Other than the poison slowly making its way through your body, the gas didn’t harm you physically. It lulled you to sleep, pulling you into a sweet dream.
You were with Nikolai, of course, in the palace. Light shone into his room from the large window, making the gold in his unkempt hair shine. His arms were wrapped tightly around you as you both lay the soft sheets of his bed.
“Hello my love.” His voice is deep, still strained from sleep.
“Moi tsar-”
He nuzzles his face into the crook of you neck, pressing soft kisses against the column of your throat. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that.” You can feel him smiling against you.
“Pirate Prince then.” You smirk.
He scoffs, then pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” He says, moving to cup your face with one of his hands.
You reach a hand up onto his bare chest, just over his heart. You listen, searching for the all too familiar rhythm, but you don’t hear anything. You give him a sad smile and shake your head. “Me too Nik. But I know this isn’t real.”
He pouts. “Promise me you’ll come back. Back to the palace. That you won’t find a new life in Shu Han, or Ketterdam.”
You know he isn’t real, that he isn’t actually asking you to come home to him, that it’s just what you wish he’d do. Even so, you press a kiss to his cheek.
“I promise.”
You wake with a burning sensation in your throat, in the dark temple. Tolya and the Crows are with you, some in a coughing fit, others completely silent.
Tolya comes over to you, and rests a hand on your shoulder. “Are you alright?”
You nod. “Yeah, I’m alright.”
His eyes scan your face. “What did you see?”
You know he can hear your heartbeat spike. He glances down at your hand as you subconsciously reach for the compass that hangs around your neck, hidden under you clothes. You know you won’t get away with lying to him, but you do it anyways. “Nothing.”
You’re grateful that he doesn’t push for an answer.
After retrieving the blade, you all head back to Ravka together. The Fold has now expanded, nearly covering the entirety of the Spinning Wheel.
“Stay with Zoya.” Tolya tells you. “You’ll be able to help Alina.”
Your heart yearns to go with the other group, to find Nikolai, but you know saving the sun summoner takes precedence over anything at the moment.
“I’m sure he’ll be okay.” Nina tries to assure you. “He was always headstrong.”
Kaz glances at you as you wring your hands, about to follow Zoya, Nina, and Inej.
“Y/n.” He calls to you. He walks over to you and speaks lowly. “Watch over my wraith, and I’ll keep an eye on your king.”
You give him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
The journey into the Fold was terrifying. You kept yourself as silent as possible as the four of you searched for Alina. She and Mal were near the edge of the fold, fighting what looked to be a volcra. It had a hold of Alina’s hair, pulling her further into the darkness.
Inej slashed the monster with the Neshyenyer, killing it. They both looked grateful to see your little group.
“We need to get further into the Fold to destroy it.” Alina nods her head towards what looks to be nothing but pitch black.
You check over Alina for any injuries as you head further into the darkness. You heal any small cuts or scrapes you find on her, quietly watching her skin mend back together.
“There. In perfect condition to destroy the Fold and save Ravka.”
She snorts out a laugh. “No pressure, right?” She creates a small bundle of light in her hand and stares at it.
You smile at her. You want to dislike her, but you can’t. The living Saint who has stolen Nikolai’s attention from you is actually amiable. She’s kind, very brave, and willing to do anything to end this war.
“You’re going to make the perfect queen when this is all over.” You tell her.
She looks up at you and shakes her head. “I never wanted this. Nikolai thinks this engagement will strengthen Ravka, but I know my heart belongs to another.” She glances to Mal. “Just as his does too.” She turns back to you with a pointed look.
“What do you mean?”
“He doesn’t love me. I don’t think he could love anyone the way he loves you.”
“He doesn’t-”
“Oh, I assure you. He does.” She scoffs. “When I accepted his proposal I thought that maybe we could learn to love each other, but I see the way he looks at you. I hear the way he talks about you. I may be the sun summoner, but to him you’re the brightest. You’re the shining light in his life.”
You feel warmth spread across your face. Did Nikolai really feel that way about you?
“If we succeed today, the crown may be mine, but I promise you, the heart of the king will be yours.”
You understood just how strong shared love could be when you saw Alina light the fold. Combined with Mal’s power she was able to cast an immense light into the darkness. Flashes of gold and pink spread around you.
Kirigan arrived not long after, ready to fight Alina, but she was able to assail him. You rushed to Mal’s side when he collapsed, trying your hardest to help him. Kirigan had delivered a near fatal blow. In all your years of healing Nikolai, you’ve never had to heal something this large.
Alina falls to her knees next to you, taking his hand in hers. You do everything you can for him, focusing all of your power on keeping him alive.
Streaks of light flew from Alina. Reds, purples, and golds flashed through the sky, breaking apart the Fold. She takes a dagger from Mal’s side, and plunges it into his chest, screaming out as bright blue lights surrounds you. You shield your eyes, but can still see the blue behind your eyelids.
When you open your eyes again, the Fold has dissipated.
“Can you heal him?” Alina asks you, with tears down her cheeks.
“I’ll try.” You nod at her, then turn your attention back to the now unconscious boy.
Kirigan slowly rises up, and walks towards you. Alina stands up, taking a protective step in front of you and Mal.
“Now, you know sacrifice.”
“Beyond anything you’ve ever known.” Alina tilts her head up at him. “And look what it did.”
“Indeed. Look what it did.”
You try to start Mal’s heart again, but can’t seem to get it. Nina kneels down next to you, lifting her hand to his chest.
“I’ll get his heart started again. You focus on the wound.”
You take a deep breath, then pull the knife out of him, quickly moving your hands to sew his skin back together.
You’re so focused on saving Mal, that you don’t realize Alina has knelt down next to you again.
“He’s putting up a good fight, this one. Like something’s holding him on the other side. Give him a reminder then, of what matters over here.” Nina tells her.
After a few moments Mal wakes up, gasping for air. You sigh in relief, leaning back to check over the rest of the group. Inej and Zoya are both unharmed, staring down at Kirigan’s body.
Zoya stays with the body, while the other five of you start the hike back to the Spinning Wheel. Your spirits lift as you get closer and closer, and enter through one of the walls.
There are bodies strewn about on the ground, and groups of people gathered with hushed conversations. Their attention all turns towards your group as you enter though. Most of them are watching Alina, giving her silent thanks for finally destroying the Fold. Kaz’s eyes are locked on Inej, only briefly scanning over her, before he looks to you and gives you a slight nod.
You look past him to see Nikolai sitting with Tolya and Tamar. He’s got blood smeared on the side of his head, and he struggles to rise to his feet. He can’t seem to take his eyes off you, slowly limping in your direction. You rush to him, holding his waist with one hand, and the other pressed against his chest.
“Nik, what happened? I leave you alone for a few days and you nearly get yourself killed.” Your words are teasing, but your tone doesn’t quite match.
“I’m okay.” He smiles at you.
“Let’s go sit down so I can heal you, alright?” You guide him away from the group to a more private area. He sits down on a crate, groaning at the pain in his leg.
You heal his leg, then sit next to him, with your hand hovering over the wound on his head. He’ll have to wash the dried blood off, but you’ve closed the wound.
His eyes wander over your face as you heal him. He feels whole, complete with you here next to him.
“I should go see if anyone else needs any help.” You say quietly, rising to your feet.
He grabs your hand in his, softly pulling you down next to him again. “Allow me to be selfish for a moment, and keep you here all for myself.”
You reach into your top, and pull the compass out from underneath it. You lift the chain up over your head and hold it out for him.
“It seems you need it more than I do.”
“No.” He closes your hands over it. “It kept you safe. And it brought you back to me.” He whispers.
His eyes glance down at your lips, then back into your eyes. It looks like he’s having an internal battle with himself. A battle that only ends when he leans forward and brushes his lips against yours. You lift your hands to his shoulders to steady yourself. He pulls you closer to him, deepening the kiss.
Everything comes rushing back to you in that moment. You softly push him away, breaking the kiss, and turn your head from him.
“What? What’s wrong?” He asks, reaching for your hand again.
You pull your hand away from his reach quickly. “This isn’t right Nikolai.” You stand up and take a step away from him. “We can’t do this, not when you’re engaged to Alina. I can’t-”
He’s quick to get up and move to stand in front of you. “Y/n, I assure you, my heart belongs to you.”
“You can’t say that Nikolai. You can’t just play around with my feelings.” You shake your head and wipe away the tears started to form in your eyes.
“Play with your feelings? Are you really so oblivious?” He scoffs. He takes your hands and holds them to his chest. “Listen to my heart. Hear the way it beats for you, just for you.” He takes a tentative step closer, so close to you that his nose brushes against the tip of yours. “It hurts, just how much I ache for you.”
“But Alina-”
“Was just a political move. I thought that an alliance with the sun summoner would strengthen Ravka.” He takes a deep breath. “But a marriage with her wouldn’t mean anything to me, not when I could’ve had you.”
“Nik…” You trail off, attempting to gather your thoughts.
He lets go of your hands, and moves to hold your face. “Tell me to leave. Tell me you never want to see me again, that you’re going to leave and live in Ketterdam, and I promise you, you won’t ever have to deal with me ever again.”
You can’t fathom doing any of that.
“Or, tell me that you’ll stay here with me, and that we’ll work this out. Tell me that you feel the same way I do. Because I will find a way to rule Ravka with you by my side, I swear to you.”
A smile starts to spread across your face. “You always have been stubborn sobachka.”
Before he can retort you pull him into a kiss, sealing your own promise to him, that your heart does in fact belong to him.
2K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 5 months
Note
Hiiiii!!!
I was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders with a reader who gets insecure about her dislikes (degrading, bjs, and rough stuff) during sex and feels guilty after sex bc she feels gross.
Thank youuuuu:3 pls ignore if your uncomfy
Hi, thanks for requesting! I feel like this came out a bit awkward but I tried and I hope you like it :)
cw: smut mdni, discussion (but not portrayal) of blowjobs and degradation, shame around sex
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words
You’re becoming genuinely worried that Remus and Sirius are going to break the bed. 
Both of them are cursing like sailors, Sirius’ voice climbing higher as Remus rocks both him and you with his thrusting. The bed lurches back and forth, your body jiggling with the movement, and James laughs, dipping down to kiss at the spot beneath your ear. 
“Doing alright, angel?” 
You swallow. “Yeah. Bit worried about the bed. You?” 
He picks his head up to give you a smile, seraphim with a flirtatious edge. “Also worried about the bed, but it’ll go out in style. Personally, I’m doing fantastic.”
You return his grin, and James presses his lips to yours. Lingering, mushy kisses that feel like they’re drawing something out of you as he pumps into you slowly. His hand stokes up and down your side the way he knows you like, grounding you while you arch up into him, affection and pleasure melding in your core until your walls are gripping him with something akin to desperation. The feeling grows steadily, James’ voice becoming hoarse as he spews sweet words and encouragements that get swallowed up by your eager mouth until you both break apart into a thousand shining pieces. 
James’ forehead lands on yours, both of you panting softly into the inch of space between you. His large palm continues to soothe over the now sweat-slick skin of your waist. You realize, distantly, that the sound and movement from the other side of the bed has ceased. Sirius and Remus must have finished before you (by some miracle, the bed seems intact), you’re not sure how long ago. It’s not unusual. You always take longer. 
Sweat and cum cool in your crevices, and a familiar remorse takes root somewhere in your chest, spreading towards your gut. You shut your eyes. You want to clean this up like it never happened. 
“Hey sweetheart, how are we feeling?” James reads your change in mood instantly. His question is painfully gentle as he picks his head up, giving you the bit of space he knows you need. 
“Okay,” you say. 
“Want to have a shower?” Sirius leans over to give your knee a squeeze. His tone carries the dulled worry of routine. “Might make you feel better.” 
You nod. Remus helps you up while James peels his condom off, throwing it in the waste bin. You can’t all fit comfortably in the shower, but you squeeze in anyway, your boyfriends terribly kind as you all clean off, checking in with you periodically. Your smile comes a bit easier, the easy affection between you softening your contrition like it always does. They relax as you do. Soon you feel clean and new, all wrapped up in steam and the love you wonder if you’ll ever be good enough to deserve. 
It’s not until after you’ve toweled off and are sitting on the bed in your pajamas, watching Sirius do his skincare routine, that a different kind of guilt begins to eat at you. 
“Sorry I always make this so difficult,” you blurt.
Sirius looks over at you from the bathroom, foaming cleanser half rinsed off his face. Beside him, James pauses with floss held up in front of him. 
“Uh, what’s difficult?” James asks you. 
“Just, everytime we have sex,” you look down at your hands, hearing the soft shuffle of pages as Remus sets down his book beside you, “you guys do so much to accommodate me.” 
“That’s typically how sex works.” Sirius rolls his eyes, tossing you a smile to mitigate it. 
You return his smile wryly. “You know what I mean,” you say softly. 
“No, come on.” Remus scoots closer until his shoulder is touching yours. “What do you mean, love?” 
You shrug, self-conscious. “Like, how you have to take care of me after because I get weird. And during, I never give blowjobs even though you guys have no problem doing anything for me, and you can’t go as rough with me as you like to. I’m sure it’s frustrating.” 
“Not really, no.” Remus says, and you startle at his matter-of-fact tone. “Anything else?” 
You hesitate. “Well, I hear the stuff you and Siri say to each other. You never say any of that to me, and you know I won’t say it to you.” 
“Yes, James doesn’t like degradation either.” Remus leans back against the headboard, looking thoughtful. “Is that all?” 
“I…” You’d been expecting a bigger reaction, not this almost bored response. “I guess that’s all I can think of right now, yeah.” 
“Well, let us know if you think of any more, because all of that’s just preference, dove.” Remus gives you a kind look, almost pitying. “None of it makes you difficult.” 
You sigh, leaning back beside him. Remus’ hand comes up to stroke your hair. “I just mean that I want you all to be able to do whatever you want to,” you say. “I don’t mean to be so…finicky.” 
“You’re not finicky,” Sirius laughs, coming out of the bathroom. He crawls right over you on the bed, stretching out like a cat and laying down with his head on your lap. “Everyone has preferences. It’d only be weird if you didn’t.” 
“But what about your preferences?” You’re nearly bickering now, frustrated with them for intentionally missing your point. 
“Have you ever thought about the idea that maybe we don’t all like it rough all of the time?” He raises an eyebrow up at you, teasing. James finishes in the bathroom and comes to lean against the doorway, watching the three of you. “If I wanted my hair pulled every time, gorgeous, I don’t think I’d have any hair left.” 
His joking coaxes a smile from you, but it’s tinged with bemusement. Really, you hadn’t thought about it that way. You’d just assumed that anytime they have sex with you, it’s a small sacrifice on their part. They drew the short stick that day. Like he can read your thoughts, Sirius grins. 
“Anyway, know what I like most?” 
“What?” 
“You’re going to hate it,” he warns. 
You almost want to laugh, but you narrow your stare on him. “Go on.” 
“Knowing that we’re making you feel good.” 
A derisive snort leaves you before he’s even finished the sentence. You roll your eyes. “You’re right, that’s awful.” 
“It’s the truth, though.” James holds his hand up beside him. “Scout’s honor.” 
“Were you ever in boy scouts?” Remus asks quietly, almost to himself. Sirius shakes his head in your lap, but shrugs like that’s not really relevant. 
“Honestly, sweetheart, you make it sound like being with you is some kind of chore,” James says, ignoring them both. “Do you think you’re the only one who can say if you don’t like something?” You blink in surprise, but he goes on. “If we weren’t having a good time, we would tell you. Promise.” 
“Scout’s honor,” Remus mimics from beside you. “You’re not the only one who likes to be treated gently, dove. The rest of us might go back-and-forth sometimes, but we all have things we don’t like, alright? It’s no burden to do what’s going to be nice for you, and like Sirius said, making it nice for you is part of the fun.” 
“A big part,” Sirius agrees. 
“Okay,” you say, softening a bit. “Okay, but what about after? None of the rest of you need to be coddled.” 
“How do you figure?” James asks interestedly. “Sirius is the biggest pillow princess I ever saw. He needs to be carried out of bed after, or have you never noticed?” 
“Oi, you try being thrown around like you two do to me and see how you feel after!” Sirius glowers. “Dollface, you get it, right?” 
You laugh, because you don’t, that’s the point, but Remus speaks again before you can tell him so. “Sweetheart, we all have our things we need afterward. And yeah, I think we all hope that someday you don’t feel so bad about yourself right after, but we’re happy to take care of you anyway.” 
You scrutinize him, looking for a lie in his placid features. “Really? You don’t mind?” 
“Yeah, really, idiot.” Sirius pinches meanly at your stomach. “You’re our baby, of course we don’t mind. Stop asking silly questions.” 
“Let her ask what she wants, twat,” James says, starting towards the bed, and Remus gives Sirius’ thigh a reprimanding flick with his middle finger. It doesn’t look very hard, but Sirius squawks in protest and glares at him anyway. “Nobody minds taking care of you, angel,” James goes on, scooching into bed beside you. “That’s what we do, right? You’ve never complained about taking care of us.” 
“I guess,” you give in, laying your head on his shoulder. 
James rests his cheek atop your hair in return. You can feel the movement of his jaw as he speaks. “We’re all allowed to like what we like,” he vows, then lowers his voice conspiratorily. “But you and I are on the right side of things, sweetheart. The things those two say to each other are depraved.”
923 notes · View notes
seungkw1 · 8 days
Text
sketchbook — xmh
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
♡ pairing: xu minghao x gn!reader ♡ theme: best friends to lovers, college au, fluff ♡ wc: 3.1k ♡ warnings: none
“why did i sign up for this stupid class?”
you mumbled it under your breath, but your best friend still heard it from across the room. he looks up from the book he’s reading, a concerned frown on his face.
“what’s wrong with the class?” he closes his book, his eyes resting on yours.
“the class is fine it’s just… i’m just bad at it.”
“i highly doubt that.” he gets up, joining you at your kitchen table currently cluttered with textbooks, homework, and various drawing materials. he reaches for your sketchpad. “let me see.”
“nuh-uh,” you say, closing the book. he grabs it from you anyway.
“minghao! come on,” you shout at him. he ignores you, flipping through the pages.
“most of those are shitty reject drawings that i started and gave up on, nobody needs to see those.”
he continues perusing through the book quickly, but pauses at a particular page. you take the chance and reach for the sketchpad again, grabbing hold of it.
“wait! i like this one.”
you glance at the drawing he’s looking at. it’s the side profile of a classmate, drawn as a warm-up exercise.
“what? that was just a warm-up sketch, and it’s not even good. it looks nothing like the girl i was drawing.”
minghao looks up at you. “that doesn’t mean it’s bad. art isn’t necessarily about drawing things exactly the way they look, it’s about your interpretation of the subject. that’s like the whole point.”
“i wasn’t interpreting anything here, i was literally just trying to draw her face.”
“but look,” he says, turning the book so you can see it. “look at the way she’s looking into the distance. she looks sad, but in a nostalgic way.”
you stare at the sketch. “i don’t see it.”
“but that’s part of it too - art isn’t always about knowing the exact meaning of the piece, it’s also open to interpretation on the viewer’s perspective. and i like the way you portrayed her emotion.” 
you narrow your eyes at him. “you’re just making that up to make me feel better.”
“i’m not! i promise. i really like your art style, y/n.”
you want to roll your eyes at him, but he looks too sincere. “okay but how can i have an art style if i literally started drawing two weeks ago at the start of the semester? i don’t even know what i’m doing.”
“look at all your drawings though,” he flips the pages one at a time. “you press really hard when you draw, so it gives everything a very bold, sharp look. and combined with the way you shade, it gives it a dramatic edge.”
you look at your sketches again. they’re still unsightly in your eyes, but you do kind of see what he means.
“well, that’s good to know i guess. but it’s still hard,” you mope. “i thought this would be an easy elective to get an A in but now i’m worried.”
“it’s an intro class - i’m sure the professor isn’t expecting you to be picasso on day one. just keep practicing and you’ll be perfectly fine.”
one of the many things you love about minghao: he always knows how to make you feel reassured. 
“you’re probably right,” you reply. “i don’t know what i should draw for practice, though.”
“well, what do you want to improve the most?”
you think for a second. “our next project is a life drawing, but drawing people is so hard. so maybe that but what am i supposed to do, just draw random people?”
“sure, why not?”
“because that’s weird!”
“okay, well it doesn’t have to be a random person. here, try drawing me.”
“you?? right now?”
“yeah.”
you open your mouth to protest, but you pause, realizing it might not be a bad idea. 
you shrug as you reach for your pencils. “okay, i guess. you can't get mad when it turns out terrible though.”
minghao smiles softly. he situates himself in the chair, focusing his gaze off in the distance. you pick up your sketchbook, holding it at a comfortable angle as you hold your pencil above the page. you think for a minute - you never know where to start when you have to draw a face. you glance back up at minghao, skimming across his features - naturally, you land on his eyes. you always forget how pretty they are: dark brown, soft, calm - giving him a permanent aura of being deep in thought. 
you look back down at the blank page, it's emptiness seemingly taunting you. with a sigh you touch the dulled lead tip to the paper, making your first stroke -  the curvature of minghao’s eyelid appearing on the page. you peep back up at your subject. to your surprise, your shape isn't too far off from reality. you continue, sketching his lower eyelid, his iris, his long dark eyelashes. you erase your marks a few times when they don't look quite right, but before long the image of an eye that looks mostly like minghao’s has formed. 
you move to his nose, drawing the line of its sharp bridge, sketching a circle to render its round, button-shaped end - bringing the shape of his face to life. you peer up at his face, your pencil continuing its strokes, but you pause as you arrive at his lips. they are soft, plump, perfectly formed, highly kissable. you sketch the delicate curves, emphasizing their pillowy nature. you find yourself absentmindedly in a trance when you realize you’ve been staring at him for too long - you’ve already finished drawing his mouth. you feel your cheeks turn warm, praying he can’t see you getting flustered out of the corner of his eye. 
you move on, sketching his soft but strong jawline, his ears - adorned with his usual jewelry, adding quick wispy lines to form the shape of his long hair. before long the essence of minghao has materialized in your notebook.
as you finish, you hold your sketchpad up to compare your drawing to your subject. you don’t love it, and it’s nowhere near perfect. but it is decidedly good enough.
“okay, i’m done, i guess.” you set the notebook down, hesitantly sliding it across the table toward minghao. he picks it up, turning it to face him as he looks at it for the first time. the edges of his mouth twitch upward into a subtle smile, but he doesn’t say anything.
“you hate it.”
minghao looks up at you. “what? no, i love it.” he looks back at the paper with a pleased grin. “i’m telling you, you’re really good at portraying emotion.”
“and what emotion exactly did i portray?”
he shows you your drawing. “i look wistful - like i’m caught in a daydream of unrequieted love.”
you feel your stomach do a flip, but you play it cool, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes at him. “well, i didn’t do that on purpose. but i’m glad you like it.” you extend your hand to take back the notebook, but he turns it toward him again, taking another look. 
“can i keep it?” he looks up at you, his striking brown eyes making contact with yours. you stifle a gulp as you reply.
“um… sure, i guess so. if you really want it.”
he gives you a soft smile, pleased at your response. “i really do.” he carefully tears the page along the perforation, separating it from its spiral binding. he closes the sketchbook and hands it back to you. you return it to its place in your backpack.
“well, thanks for letting me practice on you, i appreciate it.”
“of course. if you need any more practice let me know - since i see you most days anyway.”
“you’re the best.”
“i know,” he replies smugly. you pick up your eraser and lob it at him. he manages to catch it with one hand, giving you a sly look as you jump out of your chair, running from him before he can throw it back. he follows you, chasing you around your apartment - you shout at him, feigning anger, but your laughter gives you away. 
another thing you love about minghao: being with him is always so easy.
you didn’t mean to make drawing minghao a regular occurrence. but on one particularly crisp fall day, you find yourself absentmindedly sketching his features as you eat lunch together in the park. he’s reading for his literature class, and you’re supposed to be studying for your sociology course, but you keep zoning out. it’s not your fault that the text is dull, and that the cherub-like rosiness coloring his cheeks makes him look more ethereal than usual. renaissance paintings of angels have nothing on how beautiful he looks right now, you think to yourself. 
you also definitely didn’t mean to start falling for your best friend, but here you are.
delicate pencil strokes paint the wisps of his bangs falling over his eyes as he is studiously engrossed in his book, his long eyelashes peeking through the curtain of hair. you focus on perfecting the shape of his face - glancing up to compare your rendering to your subject - when you notice him looking back at you.
“what are you doing?” he asks, genuinely curious.
you’re about to shut your notebook in a panic, when you realize that would only look more suspicious. 
“nothing, just…”
he reaches for your notebook, his fingers brushing over the top of the page as he tilts it down so he can see. he lets out a soft chuckle.
“practicing again, i see,” he says, casually, but clearly teasing you a little. “i thought you were supposed to be studying for your sociology exam.”
“i am,” you insist. he raises his eyebrow at you. “i was just taking a break,” you add. the look on his face tells you he’s not convinced, but he doesn’t press you further.
“it looks good, i can tell you’re getting better at drawing from a reference.”
“i guess it is getting a little easier,” you admit. 
minghao smiles. “good,” he affirms, before going back to his text without another word. 
you find yourself gazing dreamily at the man before you, lost in aimless thoughts, imagining the feel of his hair tangled around your fingers, his skin softly pressed against your cheeks, his lips brushing against yours. eventually he notices, peeking up at you through his bangs. you swiftly return to your drawing, only to realize you've already finished. his portrait looks slightly cartoonish, and nowhere nearly as beautiful as the real thing, but you decide it's not half bad. 
you half-heartedly resume your studies, sneaking glances at minghao here and there. every glimpse makes your heart flutter - you feel like an idiot, you're in college for christ's sake, and here you are having an entire crush on your closest friend. 
just tell him how you feel, part of your mind tries to convince you. 
but what if it ruins our friendship? another part of you worries. 
you realize you're staring at him again when he looks up from his book, his gaze meeting yours. 
“hmm? what is it?” he asks you calmly. 
“i…” 
you hesitate. his eyes rest on your face attentively.
you let out a small sigh. “i’m getting cold. can we go inside?”
he smiles softly, marking his page as he closes his book. “of course.”
minghao walks you to your next class, which is conveniently located in the building next to his next class. 
“well, see ya later,” you tell him as you turn to enter the building. 
“y/n…”
you freeze as he grabs your arm. you turn back around, looking at him expectantly. he lifts his hand up to your head, tenderly reaching for your hair. you realize you're holding your breath. you exhale as his fingers graze your scalp softly, plucking something off of your head. 
he holds a small yellow piece up to you. “you had a leaf in your hair.” 
your panicking ceases, leaving you a bit disappointed, but you can't help but smile at him.
“thanks, minghao. what would i do without you?”
“walk around with leaves in your hair all day, probably.”
you playfully give him a light shove. he reaches for the door, opening it for you as you head off to class. 
“i'm coming over tonight, if that's alright,” he says as you step through the doorway. 
“of course,” you say, turning over your shoulder to face him. “though, i should probably start charging you rent as much as you're at my place.”
he smiles back at you. “see you later, y/n.”
he disappears as the door shuts quickly. you spend the rest of the afternoon in a daydream, impatiently counting the hours until you see him again. 
“how’s the studying going?” minghao asks from the other end of the couch. he sets his book down, pausing so he can take his hoodie off. his plain black t-shirt rises up as he does, revealing his entire midriff. you try not to gawk too hard. he stares at you as he tosses the hoodie aside - you realize he is awaiting your response. 
you look down at your notebook, where you’ve once again been sketching his face. “um… pretty good,” you lie. “are you hungry?” you ask, changing the subject.
“starving, actually,” he admits.
“well, i can offer you ramen, or… actually, that’s about it.”
he grins at you. “ramen sounds great. want me to make some-”
“nope,” you respond as you flip your notebook over, setting it face down on the seat next to you. “i got it.” you rise and head to the kitchen. 
you cook the noodles, serving them into two bowls and carrying them back to the living room. you set the bowls on the coffee table, reaching over to set one in front of minghao - but you feel your leg bump against something. you look down to see your notebook fall to the floor - landing right side up. before you can grab it, minghao has already picked it up for you. he goes to hand it back to you, but pauses as he sees your sketches. you go to swipe it out of his hands, but miss as he pulls back, looking at his own face doodled on your pages.
“you were drawing me again.” it wasn’t a question.
you try to quickly think of some excuse, anything, to get you out of this one, but your mind comes up blank. you decide to try and play it off.
“yes,” you reply with feigned confidence as you sit down next to him. he looks up at you, then back down to the paper. you stare at him, waiting for him to say something else, but he says nothing.
“i like to practice whenever i can,” you add with a shrug.
he flips through your notebook. “whenever you can, or whenever you’re with me?”
“um… i-”
“because these all sure look like me, y/n.”
“so?” you ask him. you meant for your tone to be casual, but it came out a bit more defensive than intended.
his eyes meet yours again. he looks at you warmly, but you can’t tell what he’s thinking. your heart beats rapidly in your chest. 
“so,” he answers as he sets the notebook aside. “i'm wondering, if…” he scoots closer to you, lifting his hand to your face, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb. your skin feels like it's on fire. his fingers tucked under your chin delicately, he draws your face in toward his. you gasp softly. 
“if you feel the same way about me, as i feel about you.”
your heart is racing. you feel dizzy. he's so close to you, a few more inches and your noses would touch. his plump lips wait enticingly. 
“and how do you feel about me?” you manage to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. his deep brown eyes stare longingly into yours. you’re pretty sure you know the answer, you hope you know the answer, but you need him to confirm it. 
suddenly, he kisses you. 
he kisses you, setting alight fireworks inside you. his soft lips touch against yours ever so gently, his nose pressing against your cheek, his hand holding your face tenderly in his palm, then sliding to the back of your neck, drawing you closer still into him. your chest presses against his, his other arm wrapping around your waist, his large hand settling upon the small of your back. you kiss him back, your lips locked onto his like your life depends on it. you've thought of this, dreamt of this, so many times before, all the years you've known minghao - yet you never could have imagined how thrilling, exhilarating, freeing it would be to finally be here, in his arms, world stopped, nothing matters except you and him, so lovingly embraced - together. 
electricity pulsates through your skin, every nerve in your body dancing. slowly, minghao’s lips part from yours. you lock eyes with him - in all the time you've known him, he's always been a sentimental person, but you've never seen such love and adoration beaming from him like you see now. 
and it's all for you. 
a giggle escapes you. minghao looks at you, a wide grin spreading across his face. you run your hands through his hair, a sensation you've waited so long to experience - it's every bit as delightful as you imagined. 
“hao…” you start.
he plants another kiss on your lips. “hmm?” he asks, still glowing at you. 
“how long have you felt this way?” you ask softly. 
“i've had feelings for you since the day we met, and i've loved you more every day since.” 
you boop your nose against his, giving him a fake stern look. 
“and why didn't you tell me?”
he feigns a pouty face back at you. “why didn't you tell me?”
you blow a tiny raspberry at him. he smiles, pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you tightly as he kisses your cheek repeatedly. you laugh, held in his warm embrace, overflowing with emotions. 
finally, you can admit it: you're in love with your best friend - and he just so happens to love you back. 
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michwritesstuff · 9 months
Note
Can I get a FIC abt the reader being Theodore’s gf and best friend and she’s embarrassed and alone in her dorm bc of cramps and they are REALLY REALLY bad and he just comforts her and they snuggle and he gives her his hoodie and fluffy!! (I’m dying from my cramps in my bed rn 🙏 I need comfort from my book bf)
Ok I don’t even know where to begin other than saying that this was my first request! After writing for over 5 years I can’t begin to explain how rewarding it is to know that someone else wants to read your work! Thank you to all of you who always like and reblog my work! Love you forever. And thank you so much for this request, I hope that you love it :)
Just Want To Be With You (Harry Potter: Theodore Nott)
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summary: female reader (she/her) x Theodore Nott
notes/warnings: mentions of bad period cramps, draco and mattheo being assholes (love them, but i needed a villain) fluff, and theodore just being comforting and cute, suggestive at the end
word count: 1,300+
You knew it. As soon as you woke up you knew that you had started your period. If the cramps from the day before didn’t tip you off already, they were making their presence known now.
You didn’t always have terrible cramps, but when you did…there wasn’t anything you wanted more than to curl up into a little ball under your sheets.
Alas, the world is unforgiving to women, and you couldn’t skip all your lessons without drawing some attention. Having to explain the inner workings of the female body to Professor Snape wasn’t exactly at the top of your priorities. So, you mustered up all the energy you could and went to the Great Hall for breakfast.
******
In hindsight, coming to breakfast may not have been the best idea. You were in pain and feeling quite nauseous, barely chewing on your toast as you poked at the food on your plate.
“You alright Y/N?” Pansy asked.
You gave her a weak smile as you shook your head no, gesturing to your stomach in the process. She gave you a knowing look, instantly understanding your frustration and pain.
You hoped that you would see Theo in here, he usually woke up later than you did so you knew it would be pointless to wait for him in the common room. Yet the lightly curly-headed and blue-eyed boy was nowhere in sight.
Malfoy and Mattheo whispering and giggling brought your attention back to the table.
“Look at Potter with that know-it-all mudblood, we’re going to wipe the floor with Gryffindor at tonight’s match.”
Now you weren’t exactly friends with Hermione Granger. She seemed nice enough from the lessons that you had shared with her, being a know-it-all was a pretty accurate description of her. But Malfoy was always a complete minger.
“Don’t use that word,” you spoke up, surprising the boys whose giggles and large smirks turned into sharp stares.
“What was that Y/L/N?” Mattheo spoke up.
“I said not to call her that,” you spoke again, more strongly.
Malfoy smirked before speaking again.
“What, are you friends with the mudblood? Why didn’t you just say so Y/N.”
“SHUT UP MALFOY!” you exclaimed.
“Jesus Christ you’re no fun,” Mattheo stated under his breath.
“What’s wrong with you, are you on your period or something?” Malfoy teased.
That caused both boys to laugh, along with a few first years seated a few feet down.
You got up quickly, storming out of the Great Hall. You could barely hear Malfoy doubled over in pain after Pansy had elbowed him in the stomach.
As you made your quick exit you bumped into a large figure.
“Love—”
It was Theodore. His bright smile dropping as he took in your state. Your face had reddened from the embarrassment and light tears filled your eyes.
“Y/N, are you alright?”
“Yeah, just want to get to class early.”
“Ok, I’ll come wi—”
“NO!” you said, a little quicker and aggressively than you intended.
“You have a game today; you need to eat. I’ll see you in class," you smiled softly, reaching on your tiptoes to place a small kiss on the edge of his mouth.
Theodore watched as you left, a sad frown gracing his lips as he continued into the Great Hall.
******
Your lessons went by as smoothly as they could, despite the stabbing pain in your abdomen.
Theo was as supportive as he could be, you hadn’t exactly told him much. He knew something was wrong, but he knew better than to pry. You would tell him when you were ready.
As you walked back to towards the common room Theo swayed your hands back and forth. You looked up at him, giving a soft smile before your eyes dropped to the ground again.
“I’m going to grab my robes then stop at the great hall for a quick snack before heading to the pitch,” he told you.
FUCK…you forgot he had a match tonight.
“You know, I’m not feeling too well. Would you mind if I just stayed here?”
Of course it would be ok, Theo would never make you do anything that you didn’t want to.
 You loved going to his games and supporting him. He’d give you your favorite quidditch hoodie of his and look to the stands to see you cheering and screaming louder than anyone.
“I—Yeah…Y/N, are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah, just not feeling too hot,” you smiled weakly.
“Good luck tonight, I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
You hugged him tightly before giving him a soft kiss and walking up the stairs to your dorm room.
******
Hours had passed and you could assume that the match was over and Slytherin had won from the cheering and chanting that echoed up the stairs from the common room.
Your cramps were relentless. You took a steaming hot shower, and while the pain had subdued for a short moment, it had returned.
You were currently in the fetal position, clutching your stomach as tears fell from your eyes, your transfiguration textbook thrown aside as your homework was long forgotten.
Too caught up in your pain, you hadn’t heard when someone entered your room.
Theodore was terrified to find you curled up on the bed, soft whimpers leaving your lips.
“Darling!” he exclaimed, dropping his bag at the door and hurrying to your bed.
Your eyes shot open at the noise, turning your head to face him as he made his way over to you, your gaze softened.
“How was your game?” you asked.
“Y/N, enough. Please love, what’s wrong.”
There was no more hiding the pain, you were literally curled up in front of him.
“I’ve had the worst cramps all day and the pain just won’t go away. I tried to do McGonagall’s assigned reading, but I just couldn’t focus,” you said as the tears began to fall.
Theodore moved your books to the floor before moving you slightly so he could sit next to you.
“Why didn’t you just say so love? You know my mom makes that special tea.”
“I—I was embarrassed. Malfoy and Mattheo were being mean, and I just overreacted.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“What?”
“You didn’t overreact. You have every right to feel how you do right now. I’d like to see Malfoy have cramps. I’m sure he’d be even more insufferable than he is now.”
You chuckled softly at his statement.
Theodore always had a way of making you feel seen. He was your boyfriend of course, but he was also so much more than that. He was your best friend. Everything between you too was effortless, he never made you feel like a burden. You felt silly thinking that you were.
“What do you need from me?” he asked gently.
“Just want to be close to you,” you whispered softly, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“Now that I can do,” he said as he stood up.
“Theo, no, where are you going?”
Without answering you, he walked across your room and pulled his hoodie from his bag.
As he returned, you sat up slowly. Reaching for the hoodie he shook his head.
“Arms up.”
You happily complied and let him put the hoodie on you, pulling it on completely before leaning down to kiss your lips softly.
He shifted you away from him so he could cuddle up behind you. Pulling you close, he rested his hand on your stomach, drawing soft circles with his fingers.
You pushed your body back slightly, wanting to be as close as you could to him. He inhaled slightly at the friction before tightening his arm around you.
“You know, I remember reading some muggle article that says sex supposedly helps with cramps.”
“Oh shut up” you laughed.
“I’m serious,” he laughed with you.
Turning your head slightly so your lips could meet with his, you gave him a quick kiss before pulling back.
“I love you Theo.”
“I love you too Y/N.”
check out the rest of my masterlist :)
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petcr3 · 2 months
Text
don't shed no tears | bradley bradshaw x reader
summary: you have a terrible day. bradley has a plan.
word count: 845
warnings: bradley calls the reader my girl, this one is very short lol!
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You almost hold it together. 
Really, you almost do.
But your work day seemed determined never to end. Each time you thought you’d gotten on top of what you needed to do, there was a new fire to put out. It was as if everything that could have gone wrong did, and just about everyone you encountered during your day was in a foul mood. 
Even so, you had pushed through frustration after frustration, and finally made it home. It’s your day off tomorrow and you get to spend the rest of your night with your boyfriend. Things are looking up.
Any other day, you would have laughed it off. But when you finally let yourself plop down on the couch that’s flush with your living room wall and bang your head, the dam just breaks. 
The sound of a particularly forceful “motherfucker!” sends Bradley bolting downstairs, and when he sees you crouched forward, your face in your hands, he’s on his knees in front of you in seconds.
“Honey? What happened, are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” you say miserably.
“You don’t sound fine.” You don’t respond for a moment. The rough pad of his thumb wipes a wayward tear from your cheek. “You’re crying, hun.”
“I’m fine,” you repeat, voice wavering, “I just hit my head.”
“You hit your head?” You want to curl up and wither away. This is so embarrassing. It’s only the worry in his voice that makes you look up.
“Not hard. I just clonked it when I sat down. I’m… I had a really bad day. I’m sorry.” 
“Hey,” he says softly, “don’t apologize. Not your fault you had a bad day. C’mere.” Bradley leans forward, still kneeling in front of you, and wraps you in his arms. You sag into his embrace, and tears begin to darken the fabric of his sweatshirt. 
“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks. A little sob works its way out of your chest.
“Not–– not really.” You feel Bradley’s mustache before his lips as he turns to press a kiss to your temple.
“That’s okay,” he coos, “It’s okay.” He’s quiet for a moment, and then: “I have an idea.” 
You aren’t particularly pleased when he gets up, but you don’t have it in you to complain. His footfalls are quiet on the carpet as he pads over to the record player and starts fiddling around.
“What are you doing?” you hazard after a moment.
“I can’t tell you,” he says. “Just hang on a second–– this is gonna be romantic as shit.” You let out a little giggle through your tears, and he grins over his shoulder at you. Leave it to Bradley to make you laugh when all you want to do is crawl into a hole and never come out.
A little flash of blue catches your eye as he finds whatever album he’s been searching for, but you don’t get a good enough look to suss out what it is. Finally, he drops the needle, and you hear the opening notes of No Woman No Cry. The organ plays softly, and you sniffle as a fresh wave of tears hits you. Bradley holds out his hand. 
“Dance with me?” You wipe your eyes and nod, shuffling into his arms. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and draws you in, settling you against his chest with a hand at the nape of your neck. Relief floods through you at the warmth of his touch, the slow and comforting beat of the music, the sway of your bodies.
“I love you,” you mumble into his chest.
“I love you too, baby. I’m sorry you had a bad day.”
“It’s much better now.” That makes him smile. The rest of the song plays out to comfortable silence as you rock back and forth together. It’s a longer cut–– the live version Bradley is playing is a little more than seven minutes–– and eventually, you find that you’re cried out. As the song ends and the crowd on the recording begins to cheer, you tilt your chin up to look at him.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“Hey, anything to see my girl smile.” And you do, tilting your head down bashfully. 
As the cheers fade, the next song on the record begins to play and the plucky guitar of Could You Be Loved fills the room. Unable to help himself, Bradley begins to bob along with the rhythm. He withdraws a little from the embrace and takes your hands, bouncing your arms back and forth. You feign a pout, but it’s useless. As usual, Bradley Bradshaw is sunshine, fending off the gathering clouds until all you can see is him. You relent and begin to match his movements and he breaks into a beautiful, enormous grin.
As you dance late into the night, you remember that this is what it’s all about. That no matter how awful your day is, you have someone to come home to that knows, without fail, how to lift you up.
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