: ̗̀➛ A/N: A sweet little piece written as my secret Santa gift for @cowboy-rowlet back in December. Realized I never posted it here and I think it's been long enough. Since there was a whole mixup between hot cocoa and chocolate confections in Mozart's route, I thought it'd be fun to explore modern day hot chocolate with him, too 😊
: ̗̀➛ Warnings: GN reader. Sweet and fluffy, with a little bit of Mozart sass. Slight angst?? Mostly comfort
: ̗̀➛ Word count: 1566
It had been a small handful of months since Mozart had come to the future (the present?) with you. It hadn't been a decision that came to either of you quickly, or lightly, but as Mozart's belief in his works grew and his dreams of building his music career again filled his mind, it was decided that this was for the best.
Things were rough in the beginning, getting him adjusted to the way people spoke, getting him used to being in modern vehicles, and not to mention figuring out how to give him a legal presence back home. Thankfully, he was a quick learner, and it wasn't long before he could handle a smartphone by himself, learned to use a computer, and (reluctantly) came to rely on public transport to teach at a local college's music program. You'd even introduced him to the keyboard; a wooden piano was too expensive to get just yet, so the electronic variety would have to do for now, and though it took getting used to, your lover was still appreciative of the things you did to make him happy and comfortable.
That was in the summer. Mozart had been blown away by the concept of central air conditioning to keep cool, more than a little thankful for modern technology. Now, however, winter had the landscape in its grasp, its chilly fingers creeping through every crevice in your house and leaving both you and Mozart with freezing hands more often than not, despite the hard work of your heating system. Mozart's displeasure with the weather was almost palpable, especially as it made it difficult to play the piano, fingers too frozen to be as nimble as he preferred. Part of you couldn't help but find his disgruntled look funny, but tried your best to keep quiet as you reassured him that it wasn't the end of the world, a brilliant idea coming to mind. To raise your lover's spirits, you dragged him into the kitchen, mindful of the suspicious pair of violet eyes watching you as he stood there, wrapped in his favorite blanket.
“I really would have preferred to stay in my seat, you know,” Mozart muttered, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. “Why did you drag me out here?”
“Because, it's more fun together,” you simply replied, getting two mugs out of a kitchen cabinet and setting a kettle full of water on the stove.
Mozart simply stared at you, grumpy confusion on his face. Okay, being cute wasn't working. As you turned the stove on to boil some water, you then reached into another cabinet and pulled out a ceramic jar shaped like an owl, holding it out for Mozart to inspect.
“Swiss Miss…?” he read off the tag, brows furrowing before he read the next words, a light of recognition finally appearing in his eyes. “Hot cocoa mix? Is this what I think it is…?”
You couldn't help but clap. “Yes! It's hot chocolate. I wanted to make it for you now that the weather is chilly,” you said, beaming at him. You didn't miss the way your lover's eyes sparkled for a moment, before he feigned continued displeasure.
“I see.” He put the jar down, but his eyes lingered on the ceramic owl. “Still, did that require my company? You were making such a fuss that I come along, I thought it'd be something more important.”
You ignored the barbed words, now prepping your ingredients, and Mozart watched with cautious curiosity as you set down a small container labeled “cinnamon”, a bag of puffy white things, and a metal can on the counter.
“You say that now, but you'll be thanking me soon,” you said. “Nothing is better on a cold winter day than a nice hot mug of hot chocolate. It'll warm your hands and your body right up, and I wanted to show you how we do hot chocolate in the modern age.” You glanced at the ceramic jar, memories of your early days in Comte's mansion slowly coming back to you, like a dream. “I remember, back in Comte's mansion, when I brought you those chocolates and you thought I meant the drink. And then we found out that the terminology had changed between your time and mine. …I just want to share some of my experiences with you, and maybe the time difference won't feel quite so large anymore.”
Mozart's eyes widened for a moment, before softening with recognition, and he finally gave you a small smile. He stepped closer to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hand finding its way out of the blanket to seek yours. It was wonderful how such a simple gesture seemed to warm you to the core.
“I remember that day well,” he said, squeezing your hand. “You were so eager to drag me to the library and show me that book. Then you went on about how vampires and humans are the same or some such nonsense. You were so excited, you were like a puppy.”
Heat rose to your cheeks instantly, knowing exactly the moment he meant. You spluttered, trying to find your words, before something brushed against your lips. It took a moment to realize that he'd kissed you, a look of love but also enjoyment on his face, and you couldn't help but huff as you turned away, earning a chuckle from the musician. A low rumbling could be heard from the kettle, but you didn't want to get distracted yet from dealing with your lover's teasing words.
“Well, I'm sorry this ‘puppy’ was just trying to connect with you. Maybe I won't share my extra special hot chocolate secrets with you, then, if it's a bother.”
A moment of silence passed, and the lack of response started to nag at you. A trickle of doubt entered your mind, but you stayed strong, knowing Mozart was just trying to tease you. This certainly wasn’t the first time you two had exchanged snarky words, and it wouldn’t be the last. Finally, he sighed, wrapping his blanketed arms around you, and his cool fingers tilted your chin up his way so you could see him.
“Mein liebchen, you could never be a bother to me,” he murmured. It was so easy the way his words made your heart flutter. “And you know I’ve already told you, I’m dedicated to learning everything there is to know about you. So I hope you’ll tell me all your secrets, too, even if it’s about hot chocolate.”
“Wolf…”
A wave of love rushed over you, and it was a struggle to keep a lid on your emotions. Mozart was the same, his chest almost uncomfortably tight with how much he loved you. It was only natural, then, for your lips to meet– at least, until a shrill whistling caught your attention.
“Oh!”
You broke out of Mozart’s hold to grab the kettle, moving it off the burner and shutting off the heat. You looked over at him, and you fell into laughter together.
After that, it was easy enough to show him how to make some easy yet decadent hot chocolate, telling him how companies developed a powder mix for ease of use, and the debate on whether to use milk or water. Next, he learned the wonders of whipped cream in a can, how it stayed fresh and cool. And lastly, the sprinkles of puffy marshmallows with some cinnamon dusting made the final touch, including a little history lesson on how the modern marshmallow no longer contained medicine and now served as a simple sweet treat. Mozart’s eyes were sparkling as he looked at the final creation, and you couldn’t help but fall in love all over again with that boyish curiosity.
Once the treat was deemed a safe temperature, you two took your sips simultaneously. A clear look of pleasure filled your lover’s face, and it wasn’t long before he was drinking it quicker than expected.
Time passed, standing in the kitchen with your mugs feeling pleasantly full and warm, and Mozart glanced at the ceramic jar again, a wistful look in his eyes. You leaned against him, waiting for him to speak, and a quiet voice came out.
“I hope Schelm is doing okay… or was okay, after I left,” he said.
You gave him a nudge.
“I think he’s okay. He’s got everyone in the mansion to care for him, after all. Sebastian was especially excited to meet him, you know,” you replied, grinning at him. You glanced down at your empty mug. “I bet Sebastian could make a really good cup of hot chocolate, I wish I got to try it.”
Mozart nudged you back.
“Well, I don’t think anyone can make things like Sebastian. That man is an enigma just as much as he’s a butler. But I think he also can’t make hot chocolate the way you can, and I’m perfectly fine with that,” he said.
You two shared a sweet kiss, your lips warm and chocolate tasting. It was hard to ignore the bitterness you two held inside, leaving the people and beings you loved to come to the future, experiencing all these changes and sometimes feeling out of sorts. But the sweetness of hot chocolate helped to ease the pain a little bit, and you knew you’d be making another cup of deliciousness sometime soon.
SUMMARY: you leave a lipstick mark on him, how scandalous!!!
CHARACTERS: mozart, arthur, vincent, & isaac.
WARNINGS: None!! :D
COMMENTS: i wanted to practice writing these guys more!!
mozart doesn’t realize your lipstick has transferred at first, but he knows your giggling never means anything good. his inquisitive “what?” comes out snappier than he intends it to be, but when your eyes dart to the spot you kissed he connects the dots. rolling his eyes, he takes out his handkerchief and attempts to wipe your kiss away. although it's funny to watch him struggle to get the kiss mark off of his face, you eventually step in to help. (and by that, of course i mean you kissed him stupid.)
arthur knows what you’re up to immediately. it’s almost like he has a special sense for your mischief. he lets you pull him in by his lapels and fails to hide his disappointment when you plant a smooch on his cheek instead of his lips. he pouts, pointing to his lips with a pleading gaze. you make a big show of sighing before you smirk, pulling him again and showering his face in kisses. no, he doesn’t wipe a single mark off. yes, he parades around the mansion like that the whole day. yes, he’s grumpy at night when he has to wash them off. oh well, you can always give him more later, can’t you?
vincent blushes when your lips brush against his skin. he touches where you kissed and smiles softly, eyes shifting to you. you’re as beautiful a sight as always, and your smile could not look more radiant. “sunflower...what was that for?” he murmurs, running the back of his hand tenderly along your cheek. you whisper that it wasn’t for anything in particular, he just looks so darling and handsome that you couldn’t resist. his cheeks turn pinker and he hides his laughter behind his hand. oh, you charmer! his face may as well be your canvas, no?
isaac jumps up in his chair, startled by your surprise attack. he reminds you hastily that he’s working, but not without stumbling over his words like a fool in love. you can snicker at the mark on his cheek, but isaac assumes you’re just laughing at “how adorable he looks when flustered” again. it's quite mean of you, you know this, but you’d never be so mean as you let him walk around with your lipstick mark on his cheek. you know arthur would tease him relentlessly. “wanted to leave you a little gift.” you say, poking the mark on his burning cheek, “i hope it motivates you, darling.”
Summary: Y/N is pregnant with Drake's baby and she can't help but think if he understands the irony of that. And if he'd be okay with it.
Tags: Female reader, fluff, Spoilers for Drake's route, pregnancy, morning sickness, post Drake's route, reader having a lot of thoughts while cuddling
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The beautiful woman moaned tiredly, leaning back against the man she loved as he sat on the couch, catching her breath while the nausea subsided. She had not really wanted to kick off the morning by throwing up while Drake held her hair back, but the little one inside her had different plans. At 12 weeks, the morning sickness was very much going strong, in fact, it was kicking her ass like she owed it money. That was part of the reason she had agreed to live in the hideout that Drake once shared with his companion, Galileo Galilei. Mostly to be close to him and also because there was little sense in staying so far away from the father of her baby. And both the residents and Drake himself agreed that it wouldn't have been in Y/N's best interest to be traveling back and forth all the time…mostly because the previous carriage rides had sent her nausea and aches through the roof. Thus she packed her things and was living out the pregnancy with her beloved sailor and the father to be. She sighed in comfort as his hand rubbed soothing circles into her soft belly, his voice low in her ear.
“Feel better, little fawn?” His silky voice sent pleasant chills down her spine and calmed her nerves as she relaxed against him further, opening her eyes to look up at him with a faint but genuine smile.
Her smile was returned, aquamarine eyes softening as the early morning’s soft gold rays reflected from the windows into the limpid irises, bringing out the warmth and love in his gaze. Her heart melted at the sight. There was once a time when Drake’s eyes were cold and empty, dark like the bottom of the sea, piercing like ice shards. She once shivered and quaked under that sharp gaze, but now, he looked upon her with care, like she was the precious treasure he had expressed that she was. And now she carried his child within her, a testament of their love and how far Drake had come, from the destructive, hateful pirate that he once was. She giggled to herself, she was sure that he himself wasn't entirely aware of his own growth. He'd always had such little faith in the kindness of others, as well as his own, even if she could see it plain as day. She knew that because she remembered how wonderful he was when she told him she was pregnant. At the time, she genuinely feared that he would run for it. Vanish out of her life, passing through it like a storm, leaving her in pieces.
'He's done it before, after all…' The melancholic thought struck her briefly, but dissipated when she thought of his reaction. She had never seen such a bright smile on his face as he picked her up and spun her around, his eyes brighter than the sky that day. It was then that she had realized that her fears, while not unfounded, were in fact, unnecessary, because he had fully accepted her and their baby, claimed them both as his own. She had since promised herself to trust him more. She bit her lip to keep her smile from growing larger, to little effect as she cuddled closer to him, listening to his heartbeat.
“Mhm. We’re okay now. Sorry…” She murmured, a bit sheepish, as she had woken Drake up with her retching earlier that morning and he had found her curled up on the floor, her hair a complete mess and her face pale. Not her finest moment, but she got cuddles out of it so...
“Whatever you’re apologizing for, it's okay, little fawn.” He shook his head with a wry smile before placing his hand on her stomach, feeling the beginnings of a bump starting to peek through.
“Hey kid, you’re being too rough with your mom, having her be sick everywhere.” He teasingly tickled her belly slightly, making Y/N laugh and squirm.
“Be nicer to her. Okay, Baby Drake?” His voice took on a softer tone, his thumb gently caressing her. Y/N blushed sweetly as she was soothed by his presence, by his touch, by his warmth, by his love as his words took pause in her mind.
Baby Drake. First born of Francis Drake, the dhampir and…last of the pureblood family. How funny fate could be. Remembering how she once witnessed the life of her beloved, she understood why family was a touchy subject to Drake. After seeing the frankly shocking way his supposed family treated him and his mother, she had been very hesitant to tell him of her pregnancy. But seeing how much he already cared about his child, she was confident that the hatred so prominent in the prejudiced household would not spill onto her baby. Thank goodness for that, though she herself could not help but note something funny about the whole thing.
In his pursuit of revenge, Drake had stolen the spear used to kill his mother and wiped the purebloods that shared his name off the map. None was spared if she recalled. She had witnessed him putting an end to the head of the family- who she wouldn’t have minded getting into the ring with, she had a pair of boxing gloves waiting, but that was probably the hormones talking- with that spear. Effectively ending the Drake lineage…save for himself. The only one remaining of the family of purebloods, a dhampir, the ‘stain’ on the noble house. She had to wonder what they would think of the fact that he was expecting a child…
Okay, she knew fully well what they would think of it, and what they would do about it, she saw it with her own eyes. She tensed up, feeling a wave anxiety at the idea of anyone putting her child through what Drake was subjected to. It made her sick to her stomach- for the second time that day- to even imagine it, though it wasn’t plausible. The Drake family was gone.
'But is it really?' The thought suddenly occurred to her as she glanced down at her stomach. Francis Drake was the last Drake…but that wasn’t quite accurate, was it? Her baby was a Drake. So the way she saw it, Drake ended the bloodline…and started it anew. She wasn’t sure what her child would be. Human? What was the half of a dhampir called? Either way, the noble purebloods, who so loathed the humans that were beneath them, were to be survived only by a hated dhampir and a human. The only way anyone would ever know the name ‘Drake’ existed was because of the dhampir child they persecuted. She felt a hint of smugness snaking in her chest. Oh, the irony.
“Irony of what?” Oh. Had she said that last part out loud? Y/N looked up to the inquisitive gaze of the pirate with a slightly embarrassed smile.
“Ah…sorry, I was just thinking out loud…it’s nothing,” Her vague answer prompted Drake to tilt his head curiously, making her internally swoon from how sweet he looked, so sweet that she couldn't resist pressing her lips to his cheek, softly kissing it.
“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind, or do I have to get it out of you?” His eyes narrowed slightly as he gave a sly smile, his fingers hovering on her sides with the silent threat of tickling. She squeaked.
“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you!” She huffed as he smirked at her. He always won. She hesitated for a second, it wasn’t exactly a happy subject, how was she supposed to bring it up?
…Oh well. Might as well rip the bandaid off.
“I was thinking about your family…Or, the Drake family. The purebloods, I mean.” She finished awkwardly as Drake’s expression gave way to surprise. She quickly spoke to clarify.
“I mean I…remembered what happened with…your mother…” She faltered when Drake’s expression grew blank, but pushed on. “And I couldn’t help but think about what they’d think if they saw you now…and that it’d be kind of…funny, in an ironic kind of way?”
“Ironic how?”
“Well…you, kind of…well, you got rid of them all.” She sighed, no point in skirting around it.
“And?” It didn’t really seem to faze him either way, seeing how his expression didn’t even stir. She occupied herself by looking down at her belly, which still had his hand on it.
“You’re the ‘disgrace’ on that family name, right? The mistake? Well…I think it’s funny that the child…the dhampir they thought was a flaw, is actually the only reason the name ‘Drake’ lives on.”
“...Huh?” His unreadable face became written with bemusement. She lifted her gaze to meet his.
“You wiped out the Drake family. That makes you the last one. But nobody would even know that last name if it weren’t for you. In the future, you’re the one who’s stamped in history, not them. You’re the one who made something of yourself. They were just a noble vampire family. Big deal, plenty of those out there. But you? You earned your greatness. It’s Francis Drake you find in the history books. Drake is your name, you just claimed it from the people who denied you. And I think that’s funny. Poetic actually.” She placed her hand over his, on her stomach, where new life grew inside her.
“And if that weren’t enough, the next generation of ‘Drake’ is going to be carried on by dhampirs and humans. That’s hilarious. You’ve permanently soiled their precious bloodline for centuries to come. That’s the ultimate revenge. And you, Francis the dhampir, accomplished that…” She smiled at him sweetly, a hint of mischief in her sparkling eyes as she tapped his nose with her finger.
“By putting your baby…” She squeezed his hand on her stomach.
“In my belly. So I guess what was on my mind, in essence, was just that…You’re incredible, Francis Drake. Thank you for being you, so incredibly you.”
“.....” She was met with silence and the stunned look he sent her way. She began to feel her face turn red. She got carried away. What business did she have to talk about his personal trauma in such an audacious way? She could only imagine how offended he-
“Pfft, hahahaha!”...Why was he laughing? She pouted as the broad shoulders of the pirate shook with badly suppressed snickering, moving away from him in a huff as she glared at him, indignant.
“You…you really thought of all that in 10 seconds? Your mind really wanders, huh?”
“Stop laughing at me!” He chuckles as his laughter dies down to beguile her with a smirk.
“And here I thought my revenge ended when I ended them…You just made it so much better. I never even thought of that.” Drake reached over, cupping her face and stealing his love for a kiss, which she readily melted into. He pulled back to look into her eyes, teasing.
“You’re more vindictive than you look, little fawn. Who thinks like that?”
“You do!”
“Heh, guess I do. I’m rubbing off on you, then.” He stole her lips once more, making her giggle as the expecting couple laughed between playful, mirthful kisses.
“So in other words, you’re my revenge, huh?” She blushed at the question, but bit her lip to suppress an ill-concealed smile. Not originally what her point was about, but she liked the sound of that. His happiness being the greatest revenge to those who hurt him so much.
“Yes…that’s exactly what I’m saying.” Her answer made a softer smile appear on his face as he kissed her again, much softer, much more loving and heartfelt, pulling away and pressing his forehead to hers, pulling her onto his lap as he enveloped her and their unborn baby in his embrace.
“I love you, Y/N. I love you. You and Baby Drake. My treasure, my beautiful revenge.” His tender whisper made her heart sing as she wrapped her arms around his neck, sinking willingly in the safety and comfort of his arms.
“We love you too, my incredible, fearless pirate…”
And she always would be there to make sure his never ending vengeance continued. That he would always be happy, that their child, and any future children, would be loved by their family, the real family she was building with the fearsome pirate.
The crisp notes of the holiday jazz music danced throughout the room, accompanied by the cackles of the roaring fire from the mantle. Coupled with the assortment of Christmas embellishments arranged around the mansion, the ambience was set and fitting for the festivities of the day. After hours upon hours of searching for the perfect Christmas tree, they were able to finally select one that suited the couple’s desire in longing for one that radiated warmth and coziness, while simultaneously indulging in a taste of sophistication. Husband and wife were spending the day decorating.
Shiny garland, rows of lights, and ornaments of only the highest of caliber were spread out around in totes and were at MC’s full disposal. Napoleon’s lips faintly curled upward while MC pranced around the room, eyes wide and sparkling in admiration at all the crafted options she had to choose from. Over years prior, Napoleon had grown accustomed to his own Christmas tradition that he longed for, which entailed the vision of MC decorating their tree. From the way she would fret over the minute details such as which ornament should be hung on each branch, to the way she would bat her eyelashes and sheepishly smile when it came time to place the star on top of the tree.
Even on the tips of her toes, MC couldn’t reach the top on her own. Adopted as their ritual once everything was allocated on the tree, Napoleon would give her a boost and hoist her up so that she was able to place the finishing touches on their masterpiece. There were several new customs that the Bonaparte family adapted to once Comte wedded them; most of which Napoleon never envisioned himself partaking in, but the star was one that he held dear and cherished the most.
Except for this year since they had to adjust because-
“What do you think you’re doing?” Napoleon distressed, closing the distance between him and MC as he strode across the room. MC, whose swollen belly was now visible since she had entered her second trimester, was about to set foot onto a stepstool. “I told you I would take care of the branches you couldn’t reach. Please steer caution of any unnecessary risks, for the sake of yourself and our child.”
“I-I’m sorry,” MC whimpered, her lip trembling while her shoulders hunched. “Christmas time is one of my favorite times of year, and I only wanted to partake in our family tradition. I didn’t even imagine what may have happened to the baby if something happened. I’m sorry, Napoleon.”
Napoleon sighed, his heart twitching at the sight of the dejected look cast onto her face. His intent was to not harm MC’s feelings; rather the father-to-be’s instincts to protect
Desperate to fix her dampened mood, Napoleon walked over to his desk and opened the drawer that contained one of MC’s hidden away Christmas presents.
“Here, open this,” Napoleon instructed, passing the gift over to MC while willing she wouldn’t catch a glimpse of the crimson creeping into his cheeks.
Stifled were the drops of tears glistening her eyelashes as the sound of wrapping paper being torn echoed throughout the room. The familiar warmth of MC’s embrace wrapped his body into a hug. A teardrop trickled onto his neck and Napoleon swiftly moved to brush away the wetness pooling away in her eyes, before glancing down at the gift she had unwrapped clutched tightly between her fingers. Napoleon had sought the assistance of Vincent to craft a hand painted ornament of a baby’s footprint.
“Napoleon, I’ve never received this thoughtful of a present before,” she revealed, blinking at the realization that next Christmas there would be another member of the family joining them. Her hand was drawn to the swell of her abdomen, and Napoleon’s soon joined his on the top of hers. “Next year, the three of us will be celebrating Christmas together as a family.”
The very thought caused a warmth to flood his heart. Although Napoleon was secretly overjoyed at their prospective future outlook, he also selfishly wanted to savor the last holiday they would be spending alone as a couple for a while.
“Come on, that ornament isn’t going to hang itself on the tree,” Napoleon urged, offering his assistance to MC.
He gently grabbed on to her outstretched hands and led her back over to the tree. MC surveyed the tree and then grinned at finding the perfect branch, leaving the tribute ornament front and center.
MC leaned her head onto Napoleon’s shoulder as her gaze roamed to the top of the tree. She momentarily lost herself in a sweet reminisce of how many times Napoleon and her would place the tree topper together. How such a simple action always filled her heart with such happiness was something MC would forever cherish as one of her favorite memories. Relieving those past moments gave her a sudden idea and MC perked up her head.
“Napoleon?” she prompted, capturing his gaze as looked over to address her. “Maybe in a few years, I’ll be able to join you in helping someone else put the star on the top of our tree.”
MC glanced down and rubbed her stomach affectionately. Napoleon marveled at the precious sentiment of the woman he took as his wife standing beside him in pride while their future child carried on the ritual they’ve grown accustomed to. Now that was another tradition that he could find himself looking forward to.
Though his wife standing by his side was naïve to his thoughts, Napoleon silently vowed to spend the rest of his eternity demonstrating his gratitude to the woman who was bearing the most valuable gift that the vampire could have ever prayed to be granted.
Bestieeeeeee <3 Cuddling with Comte on a cold winter day?
Bestieeeee <3 Sorry this took so long. I hope you like it!!!!
Sweet Angel (Ikevamp Fluff)
Pairing: Comte x GN!reader
Warnings: N/A
Word count: 339
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It was very cold that winter and the mansion was no exception. The residents weren’t really bothered by it for the most part as the cold didn’t really bother them. They did keep the fireplaces going though so they could retain a bit of humanity. As well as for the human that lived among them.
Y/N couldn’t get warm in their room no matter how many blankets they wrapped around themselves so they got up and walked to Comte’s room. Despite dating for sometime, they didn’t want to bother him too much since he was busy, but they couldn’t stand the cold anymore.
Knocking, Y/N was soon met with their lover's smiling face when he opened the door, "Ah, ma chérie, I was hoping you'd be coming here." He ushered his beloved into the room and closed the door behind them.
His room was dark, lit only by candle on his desk. His coat was hanging forgotten from his chair which was pulled out as if he had been sitting in the chair when Y/N knocked. Sitting down at his desk working. Y/N moved further into the room and sat on his bed, looking up at him with a sweet expression.
“I’m not interrupting any work, am I?”
Comte chuckled softly and shook his head, “Not really honestly. I need to take a break before I overwork myself. Sebastian has been getting onto me about that recently. And what better way is there to take a break and relax than to cuddle with you, dearest?” He asked, leaning over to gently kiss Y/N.
Y/N kissed back softly, smiling when the vampire pulled away and climbed into the bed as well, pulling his darling human against him. He grabbed the blankets and pulled them over both of them as Y/N buried their face into his chest.
“Are you warm now, love?” He asked, gently stroking their hair.
Y/N nodded and looked up, smiling at him, “Yes, I am, my love. Thank you.”
Short and Sweet Eternities
A Moment With Faust ⁰⁰¹
FAUST × READER | FLUFF | 356 WORDS
18+ BLOG . MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI
a couple out in town | read on ao3
CHALLENGE: @randonauticrap's Cozytober
PROMPT: "Your hands are cold."
INSPO: @violettduchess's brilliant fic Luck
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He's halfway down the block before he notices how far back you are. A little furry dot on the sidewalk. The same thing happens the first few times you take walks together, when his inner world is still greater than the outer one you exist in. But he gains information through each subsequent trial he puts you through.
You walk faster if you're actively holding a conversation with him. You walk even slower if some aspect of your surroundings has caught your eye.
Sometimes your gaze drifts to his hand. The other couples on the street walk with hands-held. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad idea if it kept you from wandering off.
"Your hands are cold." Your voices overlap. It's a strange moment, and the chuckle building in his throat feels sweet somehow. He can hardly hold it in when you start laughing. Why does he like that sound so much?
"Carriage." In a motion more elegant than he thought himself capable of, Faust, without letting go, twirls you into his embrace before you unwittingly step out in front of an oncoming cab.
"Faust."
He stares down at the top of your head.
You tilt your head backwards to look at him, your eyes wide. A number of thoughts (and ideas?) run through his head, and his face grows hot. His hand, pressing your connected one to your chest, feels clammy.
Can you really not have noticed? Your brows twist and suddenly you're apologizing for being careless. You're shaking, but for all the wrong reasons. You're shaking, but so is he. And you don't even see it.
How do you keep turning him into the subject of his own experiments?
Faust heaves a sigh and releases you from his hold.
You clear your throat but stand noticeably closer to him. "I'm sorry?" You say again, as if you think it needs repeating.
Faust attempts to put a block's worth of distance between you and him, but not before leaving you with some advice: "Keep this up and I'll need to get you pair of glasses."
Free games that the ikevamp characters would play on their phone in the 21st century
a/n- no I am not reliving my childhood games through them nor am I being biased to certain characters laughs nervously
Theo secretly loves playing pancake tower on his phone. The excitement that he feels when he is able to break his highest current record is something else.
Jean enjoys playing once upon a tower. All you need to do is hit some goblins and stay away from a dragon, stress free game, wouldn't you agree?
Of course, Piano Tiles is most loved by our dear Mozart. Yes, he started playing it just to make fun of it but is now ironically... playing it like his music career depends on it. Later on he discovered project sekai, which he has to say, is close to becoming his most favourite game overall.
Do you remember Fruit Ninja? Yeah that game, guess who loves playing it? Our poster boy, Napoleon. Slicing these bad ass fruits with swords that have different effects is just chef kiss for him
Arthur LOVES LOVES LOVES playing dangerous fellows. No I am not taking any criticism on this, he just loves it, okay? Oh his close second is Mystic Messenger. The weird chat timing doesn't bother him because he barely sleeps on time, and it's always a nice break in the middle of 3 am.
Candy crush is Comte's favourite. No one knows why. He just enjoys it.
Vincent doesn't like playing much, but when he's in the mood, he adores my little terrarium, it's super relaxing for him.
Dots and Co., is Leonardo's jam. He installed the app on a whim but ended up getting addicted to it. Plays it whenever he's not sleeping or is free.
Dazai is also not really a fan of playing games, but tap tap fish is close to his heart. No stress, just cute little aquatic animals.
Does anyone remember unholyc? It was quite the hype like some time ago, Shakespeare got curious and installed it to see what it was about. He doesn't regret getting it
Sometimes, the mansion residents and shakespeare have game nights. They all play among us while voice chatting through discord.
(hit the image limit, so....no line break RIP)
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