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theostrophywife · 9 months

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kiss with a fist | chapter one.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: kiss with a fist - florence and the machine.

author's note: i'm so excited to share this series with everyone. this was literally meant to be a one shot fic but i have no self control therefore it spiraled into a whole series. without further ado, please enjoy the first chapter and let me know what you think 🤎

Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure.

Intelligence, knowledge, wisdom. These were the traits that Ravenclaws valued most, but if the founder of your house could see you now, Rowena Ravenclaw would probably roll over in her grave.

Because there was nothing smart about falling in love with Theodore Nott.

In fact, it might be the most idiotic thing you’ve ever done in your entire life.

So why did it feel so bloody exhilarating?

To understand your descent into madness, it was prudent to trace the events back to point zero.

It was a rainy September afternoon, unusually dreary even for the Scottish Highlands. The first week of your return to Hogwarts had been chaotic to say the least. Between performing your prefect duties by showing the first years around the castle and dealing with the clueless third year that accidentally set off Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs in the Great Hall, you were absolutely knackered by the time Friday rolled around.

Unfortunately, you had no time to rest. Even though the term just started, you were already spending much of your nights studying until your eyes felt like they were going to fall out of your skull. Tonight, you were in the potions laboratory tackling a particularly stubborn advanced draught. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t figure it out.

You dropped a sprig of wormwood into the cauldron and stirred counterclockwise then clockwise, just like the recipe instructed. The concoction bubbled to the surface. Holding your breath, you peered into the mixture with hope that this try would finally turn out successful. The potion turned a vibrant magenta color before exploding all over the front of your uniform.

Sadly, this was the closest you’d come to brewing the Angel’s Trumpet Draught. You sighed, wiping down your tie with a washcloth. It did nothing except make the mess worse. What you needed was a good old fashioned soak.

Luckily, you had access to the prefect’s bathroom on the fifth floor. During this time of night, it would be gloriously empty. Giving you the perfect opportunity to wallow in bubbles and self pity.

The trek from the dungeons to the fifth floor was fortunately uneventful. The hallways were dark and quiet, allowing you to slink off to the bathroom in peace. With a whisper of pine fresh, the pearly gates opened.

You turned on the faucets, setting the temperature just below boiling and dispensing herbs and fragrances into the tub. When you were finally satisfied, you quickly discarded your soiled clothes and eagerly stepped into the warm bath. The scent of rosewater and pink himalayan salt instantly relaxed you.

You sighed deeply, leaning against the marble tile and closing your eyes. This was definitely not the way you thought seventh year would go. Your last year at Hogwarts was supposed to be the highlight of your academic career. While your housemates fretted and fussed over quidditch games and blood moon balls, you refused to take your eyes off the prize.

Ever the diligent student, you had no interest in extracurriculars unless it brought you closer to your dream of becoming an accomplished potions master, which would hopefully catch the eye of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. Joining the prestigious group was a dream that you had been working towards since first year. Blood, sweat, and tears had gone towards achieving this goal, especially during your most recent break.

You spent the entire holiday interning at the Brewery, attending lectures at the Magical Division of the University of Oxford, and you had not only completed the assigned reading for your Advanced Potions class, but Professor Slughorn’s personal recommendations as well. All of that hard work should have placed you ahead of the curve, but your class rank remained the same as always.

Second.

Not first.

Never first.

No, that spot belonged to that rich infuriating smartass pureblooded motherfu—

“Theodore Nott,” you said, lacing your voice with as much venom as you could muster.

Between the pale moonstone pillars stood the source of your academic anguish. Theodore was dripping sweat, his green and silver quidditch jersey covered in mud and grime. The prefect badge pinned to his robe was barely visible, more brown than silver. His curly brown hair fell erratically across his cheekbones as he brushed a stray strand away to squint in the faint light.

The side of his mouth quirked up into a smirk when he recognized you. “You know, most people just call me Theo.” His gaze lingered on your form, which was barely covered by pink suds. “Especially those who know me rather intimately.”

You flushed in response. Amusement danced in his watercolor eyes, which seemed brighter now thanks to his sun kissed complexion. Knowing Nott, he probably spent his summer laying out in the Italian sun while attractive witches fed him grapes by hand. You didn’t get a tan like that from holing up in the English countryside with nothing but a boiling cauldron and a dusty textbook for company. He didn’t even have the audacity to pretend like he was worried about his class ranking. The bastard.

“Every rule has its exception, Theodore,” you gritted out. “Now get the fuck out.”

He cocked his head, sending a mass of wavy brown locks to spill to one side. “You’re right. Most people don’t usually say my name like it’s an unforgivable, but I guess you’re special in that way, diavolina mia.”

Little devil, Nott's idea of a fond nickname, irritated you to no end. Your annoyance only made him use it more. Gods, what a wanker.

“Are you deaf or just thick? This bathroom is occupied,” you huffed, sinking lower into the bubbles. “Leave before I scream bloody murder.”

Theo smirked. “Oh, I guarantee you’ll be screaming.” He kicked his shoes off, leaving them in a messy pile beside your own neatly arranged boots. “Though the only thing I’ll be murdering is that pu—”

The glare you sent his way would have sent lesser men running for the Forbidden Forest. “I’m serious, Nott. I’ve had a terrible fucking day and I am not giving up the bath.”

“Neither am I,” he countered. “Practice was brutal. I ate shit on the pitch and all I want to do is to reap my prefect benefits via bubble bath. I’m afraid you’re just going to have to learn how to share, sweetheart.”

You watched in stunned silence as he peeled off his jersey. The moonlight streamed through the glass stained windows, painting him in a surreal sort of light. There was no ounce of shame to be found in Theodore Nott as he stripped off his trousers and stood stark naked in the middle of the bathroom.

Look away, you thought. Look the fuck away now.

But like a moth to a flame, you found yourself horribly drawn to the cocky, arrogant, son of a bludger. His tall frame cut an imposing figure in the dark as slivers of moonlight danced across his ridiculously toned chest and well-defined abs. He was neither brawny nor scrawny, but somewhere in the middle, which unfortunately happened to be your sweet spot.

To make matters worse, the smug prick seemed perfectly aware of your ogling. You could’ve sworn Theo flexed as he stalked towards you. Unlike most boys his age, he wasn’t awkward or bumbling. Theo was confident in his body. Too confident.

You sighed. “Can you at least attempt to be decent?”

“Why? It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.”

As if you needed a reminder of this ongoing tryst between you. Theo waded to your side, leaning his head back as the warm water sloshed around him. His eyes fluttered close, those thick lashes of his kissing the top of his cheekbones. Water trickled down his collarbone and you had to fight the urge to lean over and lick it off.

“I told you, last time was—“

“The last time,” Theo finished. “I’m perfectly aware, principessa. You say it every time.”

“I mean it this time.”

He cocked his head, flashing those hypnotizing eyes at you. “Oh?” Theo drawled slowly, reaching out to brush a wayward lock of hair that had escaped from your braid. “Did my poor little Ravenclaw finally find the courage to say no to the big bad Slytherin?”

Your breath hitched as he pressed his lips against your throat. “Fuck,” you whispered.

“Go on then, love,” Theo hummed against your skin. He kissed the sensitive spot beneath your earlobe, making you involuntarily arch into him. Slender fingers wrapped around the base of your throat, holding you in place. “Tell me what you want, diavolina.”

You sighed in defeat. “Stop being an asshole and kiss me, Nott.”

Theo grabbed the back of your head and crashed his lips against yours like a man starved. After months of going without, you came to the horrid realization that you craved this as much as he did. You crawled into his lap, straddling him as he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

I am a stupid girl, you thought. A stupid, horny girl who had no business snogging Theodore Nott.

One, you were bitter rivals. Two, Theo awakened a dangerous side of you that defied all logic. This whole fucked up situation started because of your lapse of judgment last winter. As always, Theo had said or done something to annoy you during class and in return you hexed his drink to taste like dragon dung. He retched for a week straight. Somehow Snape found out that you were to blame and placed both of you in detention.

One thing led to another in the potions classroom and you ended up with your skirt around your waist and Theo’s head between your legs. You quickly resolved that the only way to shut him up was to keep him occupied and occupied he was. Ever since then, the two of you had been at it like rabbits.

You thought that you would leave all of it behind in sixth year, but barely a week into this term and you were already repeating the pattern.

“I’ve been thinking about this all summer,” Theo groaned into your mouth.

“That’s cute, Nott,” you responded sarcastically. “Miss me over the holidays, did you?”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about this too. You’ve been testier than a Hungarian Horntail since the minute you got off the platform. I could tell that you haven’t been properly fucked since our little impromptu goodbye in the broom closet last spring.”

“You’re absolutely repulsing.”

He smirked. “Then why are you pulling me closer?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up and fuck me before I change my mind.”

“You could say please.”

“I could,” you said with a shrug before gripping his cock and lining him up at your entrance. Theo groaned as you sank down into him with a satisfied little smirk. “But I won’t.”

The moan that came out of his mouth barely sounded human. “Fuck,” he said, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “How do you always feel so fucking good?”

You knew what he meant. As much as you hated to admit it, Theo was right. You hadn’t gotten properly laid since your last tryst. There had been other boys this summer, but none of them made you feel like this. Because sex with Theo wasn’t just sex. It was warfare. You fucked like you both had something to prove.

Even now, as you grinded your hips against him, Theo thrusted upwards with equal force like you were competing for the bloody house cup. You ran your fingers through his hair, frowning a little.

“What?” Theo asked.

“Did you cut your hair?”

He grinned as he trailed kisses along your jaw. “You don’t like it?”

“Less to hold onto.”

“Don’t worry dolcezza,” Theo chuckled darkly. He squeezed your thighs and pressed you against him roughly. “I’ll make sure to hold on tight for the both of us.”

You hummed in agreement before sinking down again, setting a steady rhythm as you rode him with reckless abandon. For someone who valued logic, every ounce of common sense you possessed went out the window when it came to this infuriating boy.

Maybe you were a masochist. But as Theo thrust sharply into you, the stupid little voice in your head said that you didn’t really mind the pain.

You moaned as Theo tilted your chin, capturing your lips with his. It was a clash of tongue and teeth as you fought for dominance, putting your bodies to the test. He knew exactly what buttons to press, which sensitive spots to hit, how to challenge you physically and mentally.

“Gods, right there.” You whimpered, digging your fingernails into his back. Theo’s hypnotizing eyes snapped to yours, piercing through every layer until you felt even more bare than you already were. “Don’t fucking stop, please.”

He smirked. “So you do have bedside manner after all.”

“Not for you,” you said as you grinded down hard, making Theo bite into your shoulder.

“Salazar fucking save me,” he grunted.

“Your founder can’t save you now, Nott.”

“Cruel, ruthless woman.” Theo looked up at you like he was praying to the stars. His movements stilled as your gazes collided. “Tell me you missed this. Tell me that no one else makes you feel like this.”

You whined at the loss of friction. “You’ve picked a shit time to get all sentimental on me, Nott.”

“It’s not sentiment, it’s the truth,” Theo declared, thrusting lazily. “And I want to hear you say it.”

“Why?”

“Call it curiosity,” he said casually. “I want to know if I measure up to the boys back in Oxford.”

Not even close, you thought. But you were not about to admit that out loud.

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

Theo chuckled before sinking his teeth into your neck. “But I’m not a cat, little bird. I’m a snake and I’m coiled around you ready to strike if you say the word.”

You shivered slightly. This constant back and forth, all the bickering and banter, was just you and Theo’s sick and twisted version of foreplay. Gods, you fucking missed it.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “Theodore Nott, you are an infuriating little shit but you fuck like an absolute demon. I missed sneaking around with you in the broom closet, the charms classroom, the astronomy tower, and wherever else we managed to defile in this bloody castle. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

The shiteating grin on his face almost made you want to take it all back, but then he flipped you over, laying you down on the cold marble tile and staring at you with so much lust in his eyes that you felt the depths of his desire in your core. He crawled over you, water trickling down his tanned skin.

“Close enough,” he remarked before hiking your leg over his shoulder and burying himself so deep that you clawed the edge of the tub to keep yourself from slipping.

The rest of it was a blur of skin on skin as Theo unleashed himself on you. His mouth, his fingers, his cock were all just tools of seduction that he wielded with lethal precision.

The pleasure washed over you in waves, crashing again and again as he made you cum not once, not twice, but a total of three times. By the time he reached his peak, you were so exhausted that the two of you collapsed in the dark.

You laid side by side, staring up at the domed glass ceiling in stunned silence. After a moment, Theo turned over to face you.

“So?”

“So what?”

“Did I manage to knock that stick out of your arse?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing off the tile. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

“I’m kidding. I’m good, but I’m not that good,” Theo teased, following closely behind as you put your clothes back on. He eyed the bright magenta stain on the front of your uniform. “What happened there? Did you murder some poor unsuspecting pygmy puff?”

“No, but I did a number on the potions lab,” you lamented with a sigh. “That stupid Angel’s Trumpet Draught is bloody impossible to brew.”

“That old thing?” Theo asked, pulling out a fresh set of clothes from his quidditch bag. “I finished it ages ago.”

You gaped, nearly tumbling over your own skirt. “How? I followed the recipe word for word and this disastrous stain was all I managed to achieve.”

“Sometimes you have to go off the book,” he replied. “Experiment a little.”

“No thanks, I’d rather keep all my limbs intact.”

“I think you’re doing a rather splendid job of endangering yourself all on your own,” Theo said sarcastically. He cocked his head as you slipped on your boots. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll show you how to brew the draught in exchange for a favor.”

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “What kind of favor?”

“That’s for me to decide and for you to accept.”

“I’d rather not give an egomaniac a nuclear advantage.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Do you want my help or not, diavolina?”

“Fine,” you said with a sigh. “But only because I’m desperate.”

“Words every bloke is dying to hear.”

Without a word, he tossed a mass of balled up fabric in your direction. “What’s this?”

“A jumper, an article of clothing generally worn to retain warmth in colder climates,” Theo deadpanned.

“I know what a jumper is, you tosser. Why are you giving it to me?”

“Because, you’ll get a cold walking around like that,” Theo explained with a longsuffering sigh as though you were a clueless first year. The corners of his mouth quirked up. “Plus, I can see your nipples through your blouse and as much as I enjoy the view, I doubt that flashing Filch is at the top of your bucket list.”

“You truly are appalling,” you replied, shrugging the slightly faded jumper on. The thing was so worn that you couldn’t even make out the inscription on the front. The fabric swallowed you whole, skimming the top of your thighs. It also smelled like sea salt and smoke and boy. One boy in particular.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He grinned, showing off those stupid little dimples of his. “Meet me in the potions lab tomorrow. Eight o’clock sharp, just like old times. And bring a muffin.”

“For the draught?’

“No, for me.” Theo said, holding the door open. “I’ll need motivation if I’m spending my Saturday morning with you.”

You slipped into the hallway and flipped him the bird. His laughter followed you in the dark like an annoying shadow.

“See you tomorrow, my little pygmy puff!”

Taglist: @annaisabookworm@marina468@yaraasthings @the0doreslover@bubybubsters@moony-artemis @natasha887@lucyysthings@criesinlies @bunnymallowo@niktwazny303@letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl@wordsarelife@clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar @mishtay @cherry-hoe @littlebookbengal @maybefoxysouls @nomup @aliensknowmyillusions

#your honor i love him and his filthy mouth #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott smut #theo nott x you #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x you #theo nott fluff #theo nott fic #theodore nott fic #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 2 months

Note

also i remember asking for reader teasing bucky soo.. bucky teasing reader?

my angel !! ofc!! sorry it took me a little longer to post than planned, my tagging issue has put me off uploading😭 thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

TEASE.

bucky barnes x fem!reader — smut

word count. ~ 600

warnings. 18+ only!!

Sometimes, and only sometimes, did Bucky feel like being mean to you. Not mean as cruel and hateful, but instead teasing - controlling. The need to dominate and have his way with you would strike him from nowhere.

Well, not always nowhere.

It may have been because of the way you bumped up against him during last night’s slumber - perhaps it was the tempting outline of your tits in the thin fabric of your robe during breakfast. Maybe it was how you'd ask him for help reaching things in the kitchen, soft whines with extended arms - or even as simple as the way you'd look at him.

Of course, to you, this was all mindless. You weren't even doing anything to grab the attention of your lover. But not to Bucky. These little things you did only added fuel to the already burning fire.

So now, the need to get his own back was the only thing keeping him going - the only thing to push him through the morning of your accidental and albeit brutal teasing.

You were in the kitchen, cutting some fruit when you hear Bucky’s footsteps entering the room.

"Mango?" you ask over your shoulder, holding up a cube between thumb and index.

Making his way closer, he eats the fruit from your fingers, kissing your thumb as if to savour the juice.

"Good, right?"

He hums approvingly, chewing the last little bit.

"We have the whole day. What do you want to do?" you ask, keeping your eyes ahead as you continue slicing fruits. "We have that dinner with your friends at six, though."

He situates himself behind you, his stomach pressing up against your mid back, arms reaching around to hug you from behind. "Have some ideas," he teases, craning his neck to press a kiss into the side of your neck.

You hum, amused and intrigued, silently asking him to share.

The hands wrapped around your middle trail downwards, one fleshed palm grazing over the bow of your robe - slight force sliding through the gap underneath. With his skin flat on your skin, you feel the warm contact of his touch.

Though, that only lasts so long before the placement of that warmth shifts, moving swiftly to hover over the front of your underwear. Bucky's middle finger itches down, the pad brushing over your clit through the fabric.

"I have to meet Sam out front in five," he whispers into the skin at the base of your throat, the words warm and soft against your skin.

"Wait, what?" you mumble, tone whiney from the toying between your thighs.

He hums, the sound silky.

"That's not long at all," you mutter, reaching for his hand on your cunt - wrapping your own around his wrist needily.

"I know, honey," teeth grazing up the delicate parts of your neck. "Which is why we have to finish this up later."

"No, what?" your head drops back against his shoulder, eyes looking up at him eagerly. "That's not fair. No, come on, please."

"I know," he coos, frowning with faux sympathy - a faint smile creeping through. "So mean of me."

He slips his hand from between your thighs, moving back up to retie your robe before standing aside. He reaches for a piece of mango on the chopping block and pops a chunk into his mouth, eyes lazily taking you in.

"I'll be back in an hour," he presses a kiss into your cheek and moves to the front door - slipping on his gym shoes.

"Don't wanna hear it. You're not my friend anymore."

apologies this is kinda ass

#request #yonlyssguts #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader smut #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader

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horanghater · 6 months

Note

Hi babe.

Could I get your thoughts on my baby Mingyu and orgasm denial? Him receiving because he is a good whiny puppy.

Thank you, I love you.

▸ Pairing: Mingyu x F!reader

▸ Rating / Genre / AU: 18+ / pwp / established relationship

If you are a minor AND/OR if your account has no age in the bio, you will be blocked upon interacting (liking/reblogging) with this post.

▸ Warnings: sub!Gyu, soft dom reader, light bondage, some begging, orgasm denial

▸ Word Count: 968

▸ A/N: I went insane writing this actually so 🥴🥴🥴 Impeccable taste for requesting this, ty Mars ilu. Thank you and also sorry to @shuadotcom who seems unwell after beta reading this. 🙏

Mingyu is such a good puppy. So good, in fact, that you often feel the need to torture him. It sounds like a punishment, but for Mingyu it’s simply the leadup to some of the hardest orgasms he’s ever had. Perhaps it’s more accurate to say it’s torture for you; you’re always soaked within minutes and have to remind yourself not to cum twice as often as you remind him.

Tonight is particularly difficult for you. Mingyu’s been stressed lately, so he’s especially eager to be tied to a chair and submit to your will. He’s naked, a twinkling sheen of sweat adorning tight muscle as his cock stands up, curving deliciously toward his stomach. A layer of precum covers him from the tip of his dick down to his balls, each vein on his aching shaft glistening in the dim light of your shared bedroom. You’ve been working him up for 30 minutes now and like the obedient boy he is, he hasn’t cum yet.

Seated on the floor between his open legs, you run your fingertips along his thighs, grinning as Mingyu exhales shakily above you. “You’re wetter than I am, puppy. All this is for me?”

“Mmhmm!” Mingyu hums immediately, hoping that he’ll be rewarded for answering as he’s been trained.

For his troubles, you lean in and place your slick lips around just the head of cock, tongue swirling around to capture the seemingly endless pre leaking from the tip. Mingyu’s entire body lurches against his restraints as he practically wails; if not for the rope tethering him to his seat, he’d be at the back of your throat. You hold him in your mouth like that for only a few seconds, but that’s all it takes for the pitch of Mingyu's whines to change. They’re high and desperate, signaling just how close he is to completion.

You pull away before he gets there, mouth slightly open so a thread of your saliva mixed with his essence can hang between his tip and your bottom lip. Looking up at him through your eyelashes like this is delightfully obscene and Mingyu tells you this by keening loudly when his gaze meets your eyes. The thread finally snaps when you smile up at him and praise him for being so good.

Taking a moment for your own arousal to subside, you go back to feather-light touches, skimming over Mingyu’s balls and then his stomach and legs – everywhere but where he needs you most. Mingyu’s gotten a bit squirmy now, panting through every second of contact as if an electric current runs from you to him. It’s not until you can’t take anymore that you offer him real relief.

“Wanna cum?” you ask, resettling on your knees as you squeeze your thighs together, arousal spreading between them.

“Yes!” Mingyu shouts accidentally, too keyed up to hold himself together anymore. He corrects himself immediately, though, tucking his chin into his chest in appeasement. “Y-yes, sorry, yes. Please. Yes, I want to cum.”

Mingyu often trips over his own words when he’s flustered, but he takes things to a whole new level when he’s looking for release. It’s cute and you tell him so, giggling over the embarrassed pout he tries to hide even as you close both hands into tight fists around his length.

There’s no need for teasing anymore – not when you’re both this needy. You put your shoulders into it, working Mingyu’s cock with so much vigor that you’re sure he can tell you’re just as desperate for him to cum as he is. Minyu’s entire body stiffens as the ropes bind him in place and a broken sob tumbles from his lips.

“Mingyu,” you call. It falls on deaf ears at first – on another day, that’s definitely punishable – so you have to add more bass to your voice as you slow down to bring him back to you. “Mingyu, baby.”

The sound that bubbles up from Mingyu’s throat is something between a growl and a moan. He has to force himself to focus on you and not the pleasure that’s threatening to send him to another dimension. Even then, the most he can muster in response is, “Huh?”

“Is puppy ready to cum?” Your tone is patient, though the situation between your legs is dire.

You already know what his answer is and close your fingers around him even tighter, almost painfully as you start to work him again. The glide of your soft palms on his cock is heavenly and more importantly, inescapable.

Mingyu’s “yes” that follows has a trail of “s”s before he starts outright babbling, “Yes, yes, yes please, yes, please, yes, please, please, please, yes, PLEASE!” The last one is somehow both a shout, yet breathless as Mingyu finally cums, thick ropes of white painting stomach.

After what feels like an eternity, Mingyu’s form goes lax in the chair, sated. He hums appreciatively feeling you lightly squeeze at the muscles of his legs, then his arms, then as your fingers splay across his chest as you lean up to kiss him tenderly.

“Feel good, pup?” you whisper when you pull away to rest your forehead against his. “So good,” he whispers back. “Thank you.” He closes his eyes as he basks in the joint warmth of you and afterglow.

You sit there like that, enjoying each other as your heart rates come down together. When you start to move, Mingyu figures it’s to untie him so you can cuddle. But then he feels dainty fingers scooping the cooling spunk off his abs and opens his eyes to catch you spreading it on your drenched pussy before taking some more to start pumping his dick back to full mast.

“Won’t you be a good puppy and make me feel good, too?”

#svthub #kvanity #mingyu smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fanfic #bambi.reqs #chogiwapadada

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carlos-in-glasses · 7 months

Text

Where All This Love Comes From

I'm so excited to share what has been known as Flashback Fic! 107k words, with all 14 chapters here on Ao3, rated E.

Six months after Gabriel Reyes’ death, TK grows concerned about Carlos’ drinking and brings him to a meeting at the Y. Afterwards, over omelets at the diner, the husbands open up to each other. TK reflects on meeting Carlos after years of addiction and self-destruction, while Carlos has continued to seek closure by uncovering two unknowns: The identity of his father’s killer, and how his father truly felt about Carlos as his son.

************************************************

Carlos puts his arms around him from behind and holds him still, kissing his neck. TK tries to twist in Carlos’ grip, but he won’t let him. He starts walking him towards the bedroom. “I’m desperate for you,” TK says, his blood hot, cheeks red, eyes pricking with tears. “I know.” “Make me forget everything.” “I will.” “I only want to think about you.” “You will.” Carlos stops for a breath. He smells TK – his clean hair, his evanesced cologne, his natural man scent, his salty tears that have imbued his skin, the sweat of stress. Sad, but still beautiful to Carlos. TK, delicious. “I never thought I’d have you. I never thought–” he can’t speak anymore.

***********************************************

Chapter 1: A Trail to Follow

In 2023, TK discovers something that triggers memories of heroin withdrawal seven years before – and Carlos makes amends with Gutiérrez after accusing him of his father’s murder.

Chapter 2: A Very Nice Sweater for the 'Y'

TK takes Carlos to the N.A. meeting – but when things don’t go as hoped, he instigates another method to get Carlos talking.

Chapter 3: Snowballing

A messy situation in 2010 causes TK as a high school junior to lash out. In 2023, Carlos realizes it's time to tell TK about one more secret.

Chapter 4: Original Sin

In 2013, Carlos accidentally destroys Gabriel’s oldest friendship. Nine years later, he attempts to make peace after he and TK get engaged.

Chapter 5: Between Two Bridges

In 2022, a grieving and struggling TK is compelled to talk to Owen about his 2020 overdose, which leads him to remember when his addiction nearly killed him years before. In 2023, TK asks Carlos about his history with alcohol. (Note: Chapter features TK using and gets fairly graphic)

Chapter 6: One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila, Floor

TK and Carlos compare notes on when they first came out – with Carlos spiraling in 2011 after an unexpected outburst, while TK in 2008 is embraced (and embarrassed) by his parents. In 2021, both handle the raw days of their breakup differently too.

Chapter 7: A Boy's Best Friend

In 2009, Gabriel attempts to connect with his increasingly distant and unhappy teenage son. In 2013, the fallout of Carlos leaving Iris has begun, and he knows his relationship with his parents will never be the same. In 2023, TK tries to talk to Gabriel about the bombshell revelation that Carlos doesn’t want kids.

Chapter 8: Your Heart, As If It Was My Very Own

In 2011, TK is left bewildered after he loses his virginity. Years later, with Carlos, TK's mind (among other things) is blown in a whole new way. In 2022, TK has an important conversation with a certain visitor when he wakes from his coma.

Chapter 9: Coffee with Gutiérrez

In September 2023, Carlos seeks an important but painful truth from Gutiérrez, and finds an unexpected ally within the 126. Two months later in Blue Moon Diner, TK gets ready to tell Carlos more about his past in New York.

Chapter 10: The Day Begins Like Any Other

In 2016, after TK experiences an assault and sees an old friend again under devastating circumstances, he makes a life-altering decision when his dealer suggests he try something new. In 2009, TK is attacked at school. (Note: Please heed the tags and the chapter note. Reader discretion advised. Look after your hearts).

Chapter 11: Lonely as a Sparrow in the Rain

When Carlos confesses to TK about where he went with Judd back in September – and why – TK has to tell Carlos something he won't want to hear. In 2014, a rift develops when Carlos shows off his new Camaro to his parents.

Chapter 12: Happy For You, Son

Before moving to Austin, TK falls out with his parents over his relationship with Alex. In December 2020, it's a different story as Carlos hosts Owen and Gwyn for TK's birthday meal. In 2012, Carlos has some unexpected news for his own parents, but Michelle tries to intervene. When TK and Carlos get engaged a decade later, Gabriel has something to say about it.

Chapter 13: The Risk of Love

In May 2023, Owen and TK save a spiraling Carlos from making the biggest mistake of his life when he thinks he’s found his father’s killer. In 2020, TK and Carlos become boyfriends beneath a sky full of aurora borealis.

Chapter 14: A Night Worth Celebrating

On a rainy night in 2020, TK and Carlos meet for the first time. In 2023, weeks after their big talk at Blue Moon, TK celebrates his thirtieth birthday with his husband, their family and their friends by his side – and Carlos is a little bit better at sharing his secrets.

Read on A03

#Where All This Love Comes From #Flashback Fic #cig fic #my fic #Tarlos #tarlos fanfic #tk strand x carlos reyes #I've been working on this since March so I'm beyond delighted and relieved to share it #Thank you so much for reading if you do - I cannot explain how much I appreciate it

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anjaelle · 11 months

Note

Could you write a fic of Dave where him and y/n are getting used to having a newborn in the house?

Pairing: Dave Lizewski x Female!Reader Warnings: Pregnancy, Parenting, Babies, Existential Crises (kinda) a/n: *Timbaland voice* It's been a long time, I shouldn't've left you...; As a childless woman (who is often expected to have kids by this current age), I don't write about this stuff often. But I like the idea of Dave and his partner being...realistic about new parenthood. All things considered.

(gif source)

--x--

When you told Dave that you were pregnant, he had two major reactions.

First, was the excitement. It was a surprise for the both of you, but you'd been together for so long and constantly imagined what your future kids would be like. You picked out fake names and wondered who they'd take after more.

Then reality sank in along with the panic of how you'd both support a new baby. You weren't rich, nor were you sure you had the space for a baby. But you had the support of your friends and family while you figured everything out.

That didn't stop poor Dave from doting on you every single day, as your due date approached. He continued to freak out until the day you came home from the hospital with your newborn, sleeping in his car seat.

While you napped in your bedroom, he stood over the bassinet and watched his son's chest rise and fall, occasionally reaching down to stroke his little tuft of thick, dark hair.

He was so small. A healthy small, but a small nonetheless. When the nurse first put the newborn in Dave's arms, he nearly had a moment of paralyzing doubt. Would he be too rough? Would his hands be too calloused and hard? Would he accidentally drop him?

"Geez," he mumbled to himself as the baby stirred, "I can't believe you're real. We made a person."

He paused and felt the baby's tiny, rapid heartbeat.

"You're actually going to grow up and become someone someday." Dave thought aloud. The thought filled him with wonder and a bit of fear, "There's a whole wide world out there waiting to meet you, kid. And, shit--I mean, shoot, you've only been on this earth for 5 days and I don't know how I'll cope with watching you grow up and experience it."

He swallowed hard as his little face scrunched up for a moment before relaxing again.

Dave had to protect him.

After a month of chaos, you began to notice that Dave was a bit on edge. Still. You watched as he warily eyed you with the baby in your arms, and flitted around the house. What he was doing, you weren't sure. He may have been cleaning the same appliances and countertops 50 times in an effort to make sure they were "adequately disinfected" before he interacted with your little one.

"Baby," you sighed from the living room couch as David tied his hair up to wipe down the fridge again, "come sit with us. Take a breather."

"Sure, in a sec," he rapidly chattered, "let me just finish the kitchen--"

"--Dave," you cut him off, waving a hand to get his attention, "Come on. Please?"

He hesitated, then put the cleaning rag down to wash his hands (for the fourth time in under a half hour). You were positive his hands were probably dry as all hell from the constant scrubbing. Even as he made his way back to the couch, you noticed his eyes shifting around the space, looking for...something.

"Talk to me." You said, crossing your sweatpants-clad legs and readjusting the sleeping infant in your arms, "What's the matter?"

When Dave collapsed onto the couch, you noticed how exhausted he actually was. A low groan seeped out from the depths of his soul.

"I'm freaking the fuck out."

"Wanna talk about it?" You nudged, scooting closer to him. He absentmindedly wrapped his arm around your shoulder to pull you both in close

You sat in pensive silence for a moment as you waited for him to get his thoughts together. For as long as you'd known him--well over a decade by this point--he'd sometimes hold back from sharing when something was truly bothering him.

After you learned about his alter ego, he had this idea that he needed to protect you from everything. You had to break it down for him that holding back his thoughts and feelings would make you even more concerned than if he told the truth. At least then, you explained, you could work through it together. You were partners, after all.

It was a hard pill to swallow for him, but you appreciated his attempts at opening up more.

After a few minutes, he leaned down and kissed you on the forehead.

"I love you." He murmured into your hair.

"Ew, affection." You joked, playfully poking him in his side. He chuckled at your earnest attempt at levity, "I love you more. Now tell me what's up."

You heard him audibly swallow down the lump in his throat as he glanced down at your son.

"What if...like...he gets hurt? Or if he gets sick? Or if someone else hurts him? What happens then?" He furrowed his brows when his voice cracked with emotion, "I've seen so much bad shit out there. It's--I can handle it, sometimes. I know what to expect. But it's different now."

He reached out a shaking hand to gently adjust the cap on the baby's head, "He's so small. And, yeah, I know he won't be small forever. I think that's the scariest part. Someday he's going to go out into this fucked up world on his own without us, and I don't know what would happen if..."

He drifted off, not even wanting to complete the thought. As you sat quietly and listened to him, you noticed the way his knee anxiously bounced and the way his hand gripped your shoulder protectively. If it were up to him, you knew he'd build a protective dome around your tiny family and wouldn't let either of you out of his sight.

The reality of the situation was hard, but he had to hear it.

"I can't promise that bad things won't happen," you carefully told your partner, "because that would be a lie. He's going to get sick, because kids get sick. He's going to fall and scrape his knee, and hit his head, and run into things. He's going to probably trip and break something when he's a little older." You shot a knowing glance at Dave, "He is your son, after all."

Dave couldn't help the small twitch at the corner of his mouth, "Shut up."

"Someday," you continued, tenderly pushing one of his curls behind his ear, "he's going to get his heart broken. Or he'll break someone else's heart. Someday he's going to stumble and need us for support. That's just a part of growing up, baby. We both did it."

"That's what I'm kind of worried about." He admitted, "I can't--I don't know how I'd deal with--I won't be around forever. We won't be around to protect him forever."

"Unless they make a ton of affordable scientific advancements in the next 50 years or so, probably not." You semi-joked. Though you felt a pang of sadness at the thought of not being around in your son's life forever. You remembered hearing his heartbeat for the first time and decided you never wanted to be apart from him if you could help it. "We're here now to protect him, which is the most important thing. But I understand it. And I'm scared, too."

Dave seemed to look at you like you had six heads, "You're scared? You?"

"Is that really hard to believe?"

"Yeah, kinda! I dunno." You felt him fidget with the hem of your t-shirt sleeve, "I've known you since we were kids. And...like, I feel like you've always had the answers. I can't really picture you doubting yourself." He glanced down at the baby as if making an executive decision, and then gently reached out for him to hold him in his arms, "I mean...look at you and everything you've done, already. You're so amazing. He just got here and you're already the best mom in the world. Our kid is so lucky."

Between the sentimentality of Dave's words, the way he looked holding the baby, and the reassurance that you were doing a good job, you felt the dam break and the tears flowed freely down your cheeks. You didn't even realize how much fear about the situation you'd been harboring until then. The tears progressed into a deep sob that shook your whole body as you buried your head into his shoulder.

"You really mean that?" You asked, wiping the snot from your face with your sleeve. He slowly rubbed your back--up...down...up...down--and pressed his cheek to the top of your head.

"Well, yeah. We didn't even plan for any of this. We've been trying to figure this shit out. And, yeah, it's hard. But seeing you with him reminds me of why I love you so much, you know? I wouldn't want to do this with anyone but you. And I'm really, really fuckin' scared. But it's not so scary with you here. I hope you feel that way about me too. At least a little?"

His kind blue eyes stared into your soul as he gently rocked the baby. The worry seemed to disappear from his face as he held the two most important people in his life.

You tried to say something back. Something equally deep, affirming, and sentimental. You wanted to tell him that you couldn't wait to begin this future with him, that you were proud of him as a new father, that you couldn't do this without him, and that you knew he'd make an amazing parent.

Instead, you cried harder and sobbed out, "I'msogladyou'rehisdaddy."

#dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski #atj x reader #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson x reader #jae writes #just a heads up that this is one of like 6 different requests omg

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voidvannie · 6 months

Text

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒

Tennessee Orange Au

Tyler Hughes x Mat Barzal 💌 . ˚◞♡

ੈ✩ — 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

ੈ✩ — 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ੈ✩ — 𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 . . . tyler and luke are having a sibling date in michigan one summer when two unknown people walk up to them, claiming to be her birth parents.

ੈ✩ ━ ❪ feel free to send an any request of things you want to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts about what your read! i would love that! ❫

July 2, 2022

tyler laughs at luke as he nearly trips, sitting in the chair in their favorite little diner that only the two of them went to. it officially was a month in of summer and all four hughes siblings were finally reunited after very hectic schedules of hockey practice, games, recording music and concerts.

while the two of them decided to go out for breakfast with each other, everyone else stayed back at the lake house to plan what they would all be doing the days that they would be there.

"was it really a good idea to leave mat at home with our parents and the others?" luke questioned the blonde sitting in front of him as he glanced over the menu placed on the table, both of them already knowing what they would be ordering.

tyler bites her lip as she glances over at her phone laying face down on the table, "not really, but i think he can survive an hour or two without me there to play peacemaker."

"well, i don't think he's a bad guy." the youngest hughes boy shrugged his shoulder, "i mean, the two of you have been together for almost two years. jack can't hold a grudge for too long."

"are you sure about that? 'cause i'm pretty sure he is still pissed off about that stuffed elephant that quinn and i accidentally ripped the trunk off of a whole ten years ago."

"luke! tyler! how are my two favorite people?!" Sally, the owner of the small diner, grins widely at the brother and sister as she walked over to their table, "it's always a pleasure to have the two of you here when you guys come home!"

"hi, sally!" the blonde stands up to wrap the older woman into a hug before sitting back down, "how have you and rodger been?"

"we've been good, sweetheart. we've been keeping track of the two of you and your careers." sally smiles at them, her notepad in her hand, "alright, the same as always? or have you both finally decided to try something other than those pancakes you always get?"

"the same as always, please."

"coming right up, sweethearts! and don't be strangers, come back before you guys get back to your lives and leave this little place." sally tells them before looking down at tyler, "and you, missy, bring that handsome boyfriend of yours around to meet me."

tyler giggles, "i promise."

"i'm paying, luke!"

"i don't think so. quinn would have my head if i made you pay for both of our food. i'm paying and that's --,"

"excuse me. are you tyler?"

both tyler and luke turn around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, looking over at the tall man and blonde woman standing behind them with warm smiles on their faces.

"um, that depends on who's asking." the country singer chuckled awkwardly as she looked between the two people she had never seen before, rolling her eyes slightly as luke subconsciously stepped in front of her to hide her from the strangers.

"oh, honey." the lady tilts her head, looking at the blonde with watery eyes as a wobbly smile, "i'm carissa and this is brandon. we're your parents."

"it was supposed to be a closed adoption. they weren't even supposed to be able to find you." ellen shakes her head as she looks at her eldest child.

tyler and luke had left the diner after the run in with her 'birth parents' and they had come straight back to the lake house instead of doing what else they had left the house to do so that the two could tell their parents what had happened.

jim sighs loudly, crossing his arms over his chest. "how do we even know these are actually her birth parents? they could just be two crazy ass people who looked up the first famous blonde they could try and get money out of. i mean, she's doing well for herself in nashville and besides, it's been twenty-six years since they gave her up. why come looking now?"

"did they at least say what they wanted?" mat sits next to his girlfriend, a hand rubbing soft circles in her back as it was just tyler, her parents, quinn and mat in the kitchen, jack and luke taking everyone else out on the boat to give them some privacy to talk.

"no." tyler shakes her head, "they didn't make it past the 'we're your parents' part. luke pulled me out of the diner before i could ask them what they wanted."

"this is complete bullshit." quinn shakes his head, his jaw clenching in anger just as the doorbell went off, "i'll get it."

"should we call the adoption agency and see how they tracked us down?" ellen looks over at her husband just as quinn comes back in the kitchen.

"how about we ask them ourselves." quinn says, crossing his arms over his chest as the same people from the diner came in behind him.

"what the hell? how did you know where we were staying?"

brandon shrugged, "i'm a private detective. i got some of my people to help me look into it."

"isn't that some kind of violation of the adoption?" mat questioned as his hand moved from tyler's back to her bare thigh.

"and you are?" carissa turns to the islanders player.

"mat." the boy sends her a sarcastic smile, "the boyfriend."

"what is it the two of you want?" jim looks between the couple claiming to be his daughter's birth parents.

"we want to get to know our daughter." carissa smiles warmly as everyone in the kitchen.

"you want to get to know me?" tyler stands up from her seat, making sure to grab her phone as she did.

"yes, sweetheart. we want to know all about you."

"yeah, you want to know what i want?" tyler starts to walk out of the kitchen, "i want a fucking dna test!"

July 9, 2023

a week had come and gone by time they got the dna test back, and everyone -- including brandon and carissa -- were in the hughes lake house waiting to hear the results.

tyler sat nervously next to her boyfriend, playing with mat's hand out of nervousness which was a habit she's had for as long as she could remember.

"alright, are we ready?" jim holds the envelope tightly in his hand as he looks around the room at everyone.

everyone staying in the lake house nod along with brandon and carissa, all of the boys there for the summer having stayed to be there for tyler as support just like she was for all of them.

"okay." the male lets out a heavy sigh as he opened the large envelope and pulling out the papers, letting his eyes read over the words before he tells everyone what they say.

"well? dad." jack's leg shakes in anticipation as they all look at him.

"well, ty, they are your biological parents." jim tells his eldest child, who instantly crumbles in her boyfriend's arms.

"hey, shh. it's okay, baby." mat rubs her back as she sobs loudly into his chest. "come on, let's go get some air."

the blonde stands up and walks out of the lake house, mat following behind her as everyone sat in a stunned silence.

"what do the two of you want with tyler?" quinn turns to the biological parents of his older sister, a scowl on his face, "hum? the money she makes for herself? a chance to be in her spotlight because she's moving up in the world? what was your exact purpose of hunting her down?"

"quinn." ellen shakes her head at her oldest son

"no, i would love to know the answer to that as well." jim crosses his arms as he looks over at the two adults.

"we just want to be a part of our daughter's life." brandon says, "so that she can get to know her other siblings."

"no." tyler's voice catches their attention as she and mat come back into the lake house, "no, just because a piece of paper says that i'm your daughter, doesn't make that true. "they--," she points between ellen and jim, "--are my mom and dad. and the three of them--," she moves her finger to point to luke, jack and quinn. "--are my brothers."

"tyler--,"

she cuts carissa off, "twenty-six years, i have been waiting for one of you to come looking for me, to acknowledge that i existed. i didn't even have a fucking name when the two of you threw me away like i didn't matter! the two of them named me! they raised me! they put me through school! for twenty-six years, they have been mom and dad! jim taught me how to change my own tires, jim taught me not to let a man bring me down! jim is my dad! ellen, she taught me how to be a strong ass woman on my own! ellen taught me everything i needed to know about being a woman! they taught me what a mother and a father should be like!”

"the two of them put me through school! they were at every cheer event, they were there for every milestone in my life! every band concert, they were there cheering me on! quinn, luke and jack? the three of them let me know every single damn day, how much they love that their mother and father adopted me, even though i'm older than the three of them! quinn, he held my hand when i learned how to ice skate for the very first time! he was there to hold my hand when i thought that the guy i was with before mat was going to be my forever! luke, he's the youngest out of the four of us and he was there to cheer me up when i felt like i was nothing! jack, he's always been there to call me out on my bullshit, but he's also the one that gets into the bullshit with me! they are my brothers! the five of them, are my family!"

"and without them, i would not be where i am today. i would not have the opportunities that i've had without any of them! i wouldn't have all of these amazing, wonderful, caring people in my life if it wasn't for them." tyler blinks as more tears cause her vision to go blurry as she stands next to mat, grabbing his hand.

"i have the life you could only dream about having, and it is because of them! so, no, i'm not your daughter. she died a long time ago. so get the hell out of my lake house and don't come back!."

everyone sits in silence, both brandon and carissa looking at the blonde in disbelief.

"you heard her." quinn stands up to move next to the other side of his sister, "get the hell out and don't come back."

after the two are pulling out of the driveway, tyler is pulled into a hug by her brothers and their parents.

"we're proud of you, tyler noelle." ellen kisses her daughter on the forehead, a warm smile on her face and tears in her eyes.

"so proud." jim wipes her tears away as he kisses her on the top of her head.

"i love you, guys."

"we love you, too."

"GROUP HUG!!!

#💌tylerhughes #hughes!reader #hughes!sister #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal blurb #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #hughes brothers #trevor zegras x platonic reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl blurb

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justagalwhowrites · 8 months

Note

Hey! I love your writing could you please do a one shot of Joel just being a girl dad again in Jackson, like wrapping baby girl up in a burrito and he is terrible at it.

Ahhh Hi Bestie!

I love this ask so much. I'm such a sucker for soft Joel and dad Joel and Joel just doing the things he loves most, which is look after his girls. I hope this is what you're looking for <3

Girl Dad

Joel takes care of his newborn daughter, Sylvie. A Lavender one shot shared in honor of Doc's birthday, October 5.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender

Warnings: Mention of miscarriage. No use of y/n. 18+ only Minors DNI

Length: 2k

“Hey now,” Joel said, voice low and soothing as he held his newborn daughter against his chest, bouncing her gently in the dim light of the living room lamp. “You’re alright baby girl, we’re gonna let your mama rest, she needs to sleep after bringing you into the world.”

Sylvie, it seemed, didn’t care. Her sharp little cry kept going, her small body squirming with it. She’d eaten only an hour before so it shouldn’t be that. He’d checked her diaper once but that was clear. For a bit, being against his skin had seemed to help but she was back to her pained little wails.

Joel delicately pulled her from his chest, her tiny legs pulled up into her stomach, her dark hair in soft disarray on her impossibly small head. He checked her diaper again and, sure enough, this time it was wet.

“Well that explains it, huh baby girl?” He said softly. “C’mon, let’s get you changed…”

He crept back up the stairs, hoping that you were exhausted enough to sleep through her cries. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were. You’d been in labor less than 24 hours ago, your head on Joel’s chest as he held onto you. All he’d wanted was to be able to take some of the pain and the work from you, to make it so you weren’t the one hurting. All he could do was hold you to himself, press cool cloths to your skin, tell you how much he loved you, how amazing he thought you were. It hadn’t felt like nearly enough, especially not when Sylvie’s tiny body had been pulled from yours in all her soft perfection. How could he ever repay you when you’d given him what felt like the entire world?

Joel set the baby down on the makeshift changing table in her nursery and pulled off the soiled diaper before wiping her. She quieted, her eyes so big and deep, watching Joel’s every move.

“That’s better, huh?” He said softly, getting another diaper out.

This, he soon realized, was going to be a problem.

Not that he’d never changed a diaper. He’d changed plenty. He had almost no help with Sarah when she was an infant, burning through probably thousands of diapers before she was potty trained.

He just had never tried to use a cloth one. Especially not a cloth one that was homemade and required pinning into place. Joel arranged the fabric just so around his daughter, hoping it wasn’t too snug, and got out the safety pin. But he hesitated, looking down at the tiny, squirming child who he loved so much it was like someone had broken his heart open to make room for it all. He’d never tried to pin something on a baby before. Her skin was so soft and delicate, her whole being so small and fragile. What if he accidentally hurt her? What if she remembered that little hurt and hated him or feared diaper changes for the rest of her life? What if something, anything, he did ever caused her pain? What if he found a way to fail her, too?

Joel considered, for a half a second, bringing her to you. Sylvie had only existed outside of you for a few hours, you and the nurse who delivered her had been the only one to change her so far.

But you were exhausted and needed to rest and Joel needed to be able to change his daughter’s diaper.

“We’re gonna figure this out, you and me,” he said to her. She made a small, breathy little baby sound back at him. “It’s OK baby girl. I’ll take care of you. Always take care of you.”

He slowly, carefully, put the first pin in the diaper. No screaming, a good sign. He put in the rest and soon, Sylvie was clean and yawning, stretching her little arms out. Joel swaddled her and tucked the little bundle of her into his arms.

She seemed so impossibly small, like no human being had ever been this small. Even though he knew she was a full two ounces heavier than Sarah had been when she was born. But she was so tiny that every motion required conscious thought. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt quite so large, so potentially dangerous and accidentally violent, like if he held her a little too tight he would crush her. How could something so important, so vital, be bound up in such a fragile little package?

He carried her slowly, carefully, back down the stairs and walked in circles as she stared up at him, her long lashes brushing against her cheeks when she blinked.

“You should sleep too,” he said softly, bouncing her gently. “You had a big day today.”

She yawned, as if to prove his point, and he wondered if he’d ever loved a little yawn more.

He carried her through the living room until she started to fall asleep, her small face going slack.

He found himself remembering how you felt last fall. It was just a few days before your birthday and you were sitting at the kitchen table that morning, one hand on your mug of tea, the other resting over your lower stomach, thumb brushing the small swell that had appeared there the week before. Your eyebrows were drawn together, eyes lost in thought.

“Everything OK?” He asked, frowning, sitting beside you.

“What?” You asked, jumping a little, like you hadn’t even noticed him until he spoke.

“Just look a little…” he trailed off. “You alright?”

“Oh, yeah,” you waved him off. “Fine, I’m fine.”

“Baby,” he said gently. “Remember when I said we don’t do this? The thing where you say you’re OK when you’re not and won’t let me help you? What’s going on.”

You bit your lip, the thumb on the mug tapping against the ceramic before you sighed.

“I just…” you winced a little. “I don’t think I ever told you this but… when I lost our first baby, it was on my birthday…”

“Oh honey,” he pulled you close, pressing his lips to your temple, ignoring the surge of guilt that threatened to drown him whenever he thought about you, alone and afraid, at that time. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m about as far along now as I was then,” you said, looking down at your stomach to the small bump that no one but the two of you would notice. “What if it wasn’t what happened with Jessica and the guards? What if there’s something wrong with me and I can’t carry past this point? What if I lose them anyway? What if…”

“Baby,” Joel said gently, brushing your hair back. “It’s OK. If… if something happens this time, we’ll deal with it together. It will hurt but I’ll take care of you and we’ll have each other and Ellie and it’ll be OK.”

“I’m scared, Joel,” you said quietly, looking at him with wide eyes. “I don’t know if I can do that again and…”

“We don’t have any reason to think it’s going to,” he said. “But if it does, it’ll be different this time. You don’t have to do this alone. I promise.”

You nodded and leaned into him, tucking yourself against his chest.

He wanted to do something to make it better, something for the first birthday the two of you had been actually together and doing more than just trying to survive in more than 20 years.

Joel talked to Maria, Tommy and Ellie and put together a quiet dinner for the five of you, one filled with your favorite foods and even a small cake. He put on your favorite Beatles CD and got everyone on board with playing Clue. You laughed and danced with Maria and Ellie around the kitchen in your socks, sliding on the tile while Joel and Tommy smiled and watched through the back door as they stood around the grill.

It was after midnight when you fell into bed with Joel, stretching out as you lay flat on your back. Your hand was at your bump again and Joel’s hand met yours there, his fingers lacing with your own, his palm on one half of your stomach, yours on the other.

“We made it,” you smiled a little, more down at your bump than at Joel before you looked over at him. “Thank you for today. I seriously felt like my birthday was cursed, this is the first one I’ve really enjoyed in… well, 22 years?”

He moved closer to you, kissing your temple and stroking your hair.

“I really think it’s going to be OK Baby,” he said softly, watching you in the dark. “It feels right. Never had much in my life that did but this does and I think it’s going to be OK. Better than OK.”

You smiled a little and looked down at the bump.

“I’m starting to think so, too.”

It had turned out OK. So much better than OK. Absolutely perfect was asleep on his chest, just a tiny bundle made of you and him together. Even though it was hard to believe something so wonderful could have come from him at all.

“Hey,” Ellie shuffled in, looking groggy. “She OK?”

“She’s good,” Joel said softly. “Just tryin’ to get her nice and settled before heading back up, giving her mama a chance to rest.”

Ellie nodded, going to the kitchen and coming back with two glasses of water. She handed him one and he arranged the baby carefully before taking it.

“How’s it feel?” She asked, watching Sylvie. “Being a dad again after… well…”

Joel thought for a moment, looking down at his sleeping daughter. Even through all the love he had for her, for you, for Ellie, there was still the pain of loss. That Sarah would never meet her baby sister, never talk with her about boys or teach her one of the silly dances she and her friends used to choreograph in his living room. But it existed as a separate entity now, that pain. It could live alongside the fulfillment and happiness and overwhelming love he had now. There was room in him for all of it.

“It’s different,” Joel said after a minute. “But damn, I forgot how good some of this was. I’ll figure out the hard stuff when the time comes.”

Ellie smiled a little, taking a sip of water.

“Well, she’s a lucky kid,” she said. “You’re pretty good at figuring out the hard shit.”

He smiled a little at her.

“Thanks, Kiddo.”

The two of them went back upstairs, Ellie kissing her new little sister on the cheek before disappearing into her own room and Joel did everything he could to open the door to your room silently.

It didn’t matter, you were awake, smiling lazily from the bed.

“You’re supposed to be sleepin’,” he said softly.

“I have been. But I heard her crying,” you whispered. “I knew you had her, knew you’d take care of her.”

Joel smiled and climbed delicately into bed next to you, Sylvie still on his chest.

“Can I get you anything?” He asked quietly.

“No,” you shook your head but winced as you sat up ever so slightly, back supported by the headboard of the bed. “But can I take her for a bit? I miss her.”

“‘Course you can, Mama,” he said, carefully putting the baby on your chest. You smiled so big that Joel could see it in the dark, your teeth reflecting the moonlight. He came alongside you, pressing his lips to your bare shoulder, looking at his daughter in your arms. “She looks like you.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “She’s a few hours old, she doesn’t look like anyone yet.”

“She’s beautiful,” he said reverently. “She’s perfect. Only gettin’ that from you, Baby.”

You pulled your eyes away from her to look at him, stretching over ever so slightly to steal a kiss.

“Thank you for her, Joel,” you said softly. “I’m so glad we made it here.”

He looked at you and the child you’d made with him and wondered, for a moment, if he’d ever felt more complete than he had in this moment.

“Me too, Baby,” he said quietly. “Me too.”

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #kit answers #send asks #lavender #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x OC

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satellite-evans · 2 years

Text

Overprotective

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Summary: Chris is being overprotective of his pregnant wife <3

Word count: 880 words

Warnings: just fluff

A/N: here is a quick blurb for you guys! I hope you all enjoy it. Please tell me what you think xxx

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

It was a Sunday evening in your Boston home you shared with your husband, that you started feeling bored. Ever since you got pregnant, the number of activities that you could do were limited not only by the pregnancy but also by your husband. Ever since he heard the news that you were having his baby and he was going to be a father, Chris was a whole new person. Not only was he mentally preparing to be the best version of himself, he was also trying to protect you and the baby from any type of harm that could occur.

“Umm, where do you think you’re going?” He asked you, with shocked eyes and fear in his tone, like you were going to a war.

“I’m going to the kitchen. Calm down. You don’t have to be so nervous all the time.” You laughed him off, thinking that it would be the end of the conversation, but Chris was still not done with you. He was very serious when he said that he would protect you from anything dangerous.

“Well, what if you accidentally burn your hand? Or bump your head into the wall? Y/N what if there is a piece of glass on the floor and you step on it? No. No no no no no, absolutely not. You stay here on the couch where it’s safe and I’ll make you whatever you want.”

And this continued during your whole pregnancy. Sometimes, you were worried that he was too focused on you and the baby, that he forgot he has his own life he should be focusing on. Neither of you were clingy people, but Chris became one after you got pregnant.

“Please, just gimme 5 more minutes.” Chris was supposed to be in a meeting with producers, but he was hugging his wife and kissing her belly, trying to feel the kicks of his baby.

“Chris, no, you aren’t supposed to be here right now. Go before your assistants get mad at me.” The last thing you wanted to do was hold Chris down and make him fall behind work. He was a dedicated actor you were proud of, and couldn’t wait to see more of his work.

“Please, if she even tries to talk to you with an attitude, she’ll be fired. No one gets to get mad at my wife.” A piece of you loved he was looking out for you and that he would die before anything happened to you and the baby, but you needed some alone time and Chris was working on your nerves.

“I swear to God if you don’t move your ass to the car and go that meeting right now, I will name our child after my great uncle. Go!”

Chris then stood up, hands in the air, brows furrowed, looking like you offended him.

“Okay, okay, I’m going. Jeez, I didn’t know I was such a burden.” After hearing his words, you rolled your eyes, once again witnessing how much of a baby your 41-year-old husband was.

“When did I say that, huh? Did such words ever leave my mouth? No. So stop acting like I treat you like a burden, baby.” You stood up and gave him a hug, and felt Chris put his head on yours.

“I love it so much, that you take care of us and protect us with so much care, but baby, you do it a lot. The baby and I won’t get hurt when we go to the kitchen or when we decide to go to the bathroom alone in the middle of the night. I get it, you’re nervous and you’re looking out for us, but doing too much is also not okay. You need to go out, interact with people, do your job, and me and the baby will be at home waiting for you. At this point, you are just spoiling us with all these hugs and kisses.” You finished your sentence with a laugh, which also made Chris laugh, above you. When you looked up, you saw he had glistering eyes, and a smile so perfect. The only thing you wanted was the best for him, just like he wanted for you.

“Yeah, I get it. I’m sorry that I seem so overprotective, but I can’t help it. I wanted this life for so long, and now I have it. I don’t want to be without you guys, ever. I’m sorry that I seemed to be clingy these last couple of months. Just the thought of something happening to you or the baby is the worst scenario to ever exist.”

With your hormones being everywhere, any type of comment Chris made about you and the baby being so important to him, sounded like most emotional poet to your ears and you couldn’t help yourself but cry.

“Oh honey, noooooo. Don’t cry please. You’re gonna make me cry.” He took you in for a bear hug while he gave your head a few kisses.

“You’re just the best husband, the best father and the best friend any woman would've asked for. Thank you for being here and looking out for us. The baby and I love you and appreciate everything you do for us.”

“Love you guys more.”

#chris evans x reader #chris evans fic #chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #cevans #chris evans x wife!reader #dad!chris evans #dad!chris evans x mom!reader #chris evans fluff #fluff #evansedits #chris evans fic rec #chris evans characters #dad! chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x mom!reader #chris evans x y/n

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l1tw1ck · 1 year

Text

Staring

sub!bottom!ftm Steve x dom!top!masc reader

☆ Word Count: 1,610 ☆

↳ [REQUEST] | AFAB Language Used

i think this is my 100th request 😭

CW: Locker Room Sex, Teasing, Oral, Praise Kink, Fingering, Daddy Kink, Squirting, Cum Swallowing, accidentally dialogue heavy

Once again, your teammate is checking you out. He’s been looking at you weirdly for weeks now and you're convinced he has a crush on you. It started with random glances and turned into full on stares.

He always thought you were attractive and he found himself looking at you in every class you share and at every practice. And each time he felt more and more drawn to you. It started off innocent, all he wanted was to hold hands and kiss. But then he started thinking about you in ways that aren't so family friendly. You’re confident and dominant on the court, he wonders if you're the same in bed. He feels bad but he's been masturbating to you. He does things he’d never thought he’d do. He feels perverted doing it but he often buys popsicles and practices sucking you off. He even managed to buy a dildo but he was too scared to use it so he just rubs his cunt against the plastic shaft. He settled with fantasies but he realized that wasn't enough.

“Staring again? Am I that good looking?” You chuckle. Steve’s eyes widen, a blush spreading across his cheeks. He stutters for a bit before you stop him. “I’m just kidding, Steve.” You smile sweetly.

“Ri- right-” He quickly turns around and rushes to the bathroom to wash his face and cool down.

It happens again the next day, this time he was being very obvious with his arousal. He was on the bench for ‘health reasons’ (he just wanted to watch you) and you noticed him squeezing his legs together and giving you bedroom eyes.

“Am I the only one who gets the ‘Steve Harrington Death Stare’?” You chuckled. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Steve’s entire face burned red. “Um-”

“You don't have to explain right now. I think I understand.” You winked at him. “But I’d like to hear it from you eventually.”

Hope filled his heart. If he confesses, will you say yes?

He takes a while to build up the courage to confess but he finally does. And now here’s Steve, standing in front of you in the empty locker room while fiddling with his thumbs. You wait patiently for him to speak rather than rushing him, he appreciates it.

“Whenever you…you tease me, I feel so...so..”

“Horny?” You smirk, remembering how turned on he looked sitting on the bench.

His ears tinge red. He wasn't going to say that, but you're far from wrong. “Yeah...and I just wanna…I want you to tease me and- and praise me, and make me do whatever you want me to...” He trails off, eyes widening as he realizes what he’s saying. “I get it if you- if you’re uncomfortable! You can just pretend this never happened!”

“Whatever I want, huh?” You smirk. “Kneel.”

His eyes are blown wide as he falls to his knees. He looks to you for approval before pulling down your shorts and boxers, your half hard cock slapping him in the face. He takes it in his hand and drags his tongue along your shaft, mimicking the girls in the porno DVDs he borrowed at Family Video. He watches as you grow to full size, the sight causes a throbbing sensation in his pants. He imagined you being big but this is a whole different story.

“Put it in your mouth, sweetheart.” You urge. Steve does as you ask, opening his mouth and taking the tip of your cock in his mouth. He looks up at you as he tries to swallow you whole, stopping halfway. He knows his limits. He sucks you off for at least a minute, trying his very best to please you, before pulling away and looking at you with a sweet expression.

“Am I doing okay..?” He asks softly. It's his first time doing anything with another guy, he wants to make sure he’s doing it right. Plus, he wants to hear you praise him.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby..” You wrap your fingers in his hair, guiding him back onto your length. Steve closes his eyes and starts to ‘properly’ suck you off. “Look at me.”

His eyes flutter open, his gaze focusing on you. He moves his mouth up and down your shaft while keeping eye contact the whole time.

“What a sight..” You sigh. “You look so pretty like this, Steve. Wish I had a camera.”

Steve moans and picks up the pace, encouraged to do more. He brings his hand inside his shorts and presses two fingers against his clit. He rubs it in circles and moans, bobbing his head up and down vigorously.

“Look at you, getting turned on from sucking my cock..” You murmur, gently pulling him off of you. “How about I take care of that?”

Steve shakes his head lightly. “I like…I like making you feel good..”

You never thought of Steve as the type to prefer pleasing rather than being pleased but now that you've been made aware of it, it makes sense. You've heard rumors that his parents are never home, the reason why he has so many parties, it's clear that he needs someone to give him the praise he never received.

“You know how you can make me feel even better? Get over there and bend over.” You point to the wall of lockers.

Steve quickly does as you asked, jutting his ass out and looking back at you. You walk up behind him and pull his shorts off. His boxers are white, which allows you to see how wet he is. He’s soaked just from sucking you off. You pull them off, revealing his pretty pussy. You slowly slide one finger inside him and then another.

“How often do you touch yourself, Steve?” You ask, your chest resting on his back.

He turns more red than he already is. “Everyday..” He whispers.

“Really? What do you think about?” You start fingering him.

“You, [Name].” He admits.

“Of course.” You chuckle. “Do you use toys? Or just your fingers?”

“I…I..” He’s too embarrassed to tell you the truth.

“Come on, tell me.” You angle your fingers to his pleasure spot, making him whine.

“I finger myself but sometimes- fuck-” His face is a bright red. “I use a dildo..”

“So you've already taken something inside you?”

He shakes his head. “I rub…”

“You rub your pussy against the toy?” You ask and he nods. “Fuck…I need to see that.”

Steve moans. “You can watch–”

“Yeah? God, I bet you’d look so fucking hot doing it..” You pull your fingers out. “I’m gonna put it in.”

He gulps and prepares himself for your entrance. As you ease yourself inside him, he shuts his eyes and leans his head back. You're filling him up so well. “Mm- Daddy~” He moans out mindlessly.

“Does it feel good, baby?”

“Yes- fuck- you're so big-” He grins, loving how you stretch him out.

“You feel good too–” You groan in his ear, causing him to shiver. “Can I move?”

He nods.

You grip his hips and start fucking into him at a gentle pace. You don't want to hurt him.

“Mm- go faster, if you want~” He already feels like he's on cloud 9 but he has a feeling that you're holding back. “Wanna make you feel good, Daddy~”

“Don’t say that, I won’t be able to hold back.”

“‘M yours, Daddy, use me.”

You dig your nails into his skin and thrust into him roughly, practically rearranging his insides. Steve lets out loud, slutty moans without an ounce of shame. It feels too good for him to care about his surroundings. “Do you want everyone in the school to hear you? You want someone to come in and find you like this?”

He giggles, the thought of someone finding him getting pounded by you only makes him more excited. “Yes~!”

“Yes?” You laugh. “I didn’t know you were a whore, Harrington.”

“I’m your whore~!” He exclaims.

You somehow fuck him even harder and rougher than before, riled up by his words. You ram into his cunt relentlessly, enamored by the plushness of his wet pussy and the sluttiness of his words. Steve bites his lip as tears start to stream down his cheeks. He feels so fucking good, it's like electricity's running through him.

“Daddy–” He whines. “‘M gonna come-”

“Before me? How selfish.” You tease him.

Steve blabbers out an apology, crying harder.

“I'm kidding, sweetheart.” You bring your hand down to his clit, rubbing it in circles. Steve’s legs shake as you pull him into an orgasm, eyes rolling back as he squirts all over the floor and lockers. You help him through his orgasm before pulling out. You help him onto his knees and stroke yourself over his face. He sticks out his tongue and waits for you to come. It doesn't take long before you’re spurting thick ropes of cum all over his face and tongue.

“You did so well for me, Steve..” You murmur, helping him stand up. “Such a good boy for me.” You bring him to the showers.

bonus:

Steve rubs his sopping wet pussy along his pink dildo, pulling on his nipples and whimpering like a puppy while you watch him. His eyes are trained on your lower half as he watches you get off to him. Everything feels good, his pussy, his nipples, your gaze…but now that he's gotten a taste of it, he just wants your cock now. He wants to be good for you though, so he'll keep going as long as you want.

#wicks🕯works #wicks🕯requests #top male reader #male reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #stranger things smut #bottom steve harrington #sub steve harrington #steve harrington x male reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #🕯️stranger things #🕯️steve

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that-one-p00k1e · 6 months

Text

Familiarity

Pairing: fem!reader x Muichiro

TW: none, OOC overall, fluff^^

Note: reader is 5 days younger than Mui

“Tokito-Sama, please hold still.”

“Your eyes look familiar.” Muichiro tilted his head again as you let out a light sigh, continuing to gently dab disinfectant on his cheek.

Logically, when a person enrolls as a demon hunter, their title would be a demon hunter itself. The same goes for a kakushi. They both have their own different roles to play, as well as different duties to fulfill. You, on the other hand, decided to take both responsibilities of both titles upon yourself.

People would think of that as an absurd decision. A tiring one, too. But the agonizing boredom that engulfs when no mission was around, made the idea of being an occasional kakushi not seem to be a bad option. Which explains your current position right now; face to face with the Mist Pillar, tending to his wounds from his recent mission.

“Have we met before?” his deep yet soft voice spoke up with curiosity.

“No, we have not, Tokito-Sama.” Your tone was put up with formality; keeping composure despite the untruth that came with it. As a demon hunter, you've been acquainted with Muichiro more than once. Either by accidentally bumping into him, walking past him during his cloud gazing sessions, or doing a friendly gesture by sharing food with him once in a while.

Although he was in a way higher rank than you; in terms of age, you were only 5 days younger than him. Thus, you wanted to take the opportunity to befriend someone of your age, considering most demon hunters as of now were around 16 and older. Moreover, you were bewildered the moment you found out about a Pillar that was only 14 years of age.

Despite the interactions you've made with him as a demon slayer, you never dared to do the same when taking your secondary role as a kakushi.

“Were you the one who gave me furofuki daikon?” he questioned further as he looked at you tending to his arm.

“I'm afraid I could not recall doing such a deed. You must’ve mistaken me for another kakushi, Tokito-Sama,” you replied calmly as you kept focused on healing his arm.

“No, not a kakushi. You were a demon hunter.”

And with that, your heart skipped a beat.

A kakushi have always had to keep their identities undercover; wearing a beanie-like hat to cover their head and hair, and a mask covering the back of their heads and half of their faces. Of course, wearing those complete attributes already made you feel safe.

But never did you expect Muichiro– a young boy with short term memory loss –out of all people, could easily suspect your true identity despite it being hidden.

“I don't understand what you mean, Tokito-Sama. I am a kakushi, not a demon slayer,” you continued further as you tried to keep composed and unfazed; a contrast to the rapid increase of your heart beat you felt inside.

“Your wounds are fully taken care of. There’ll be tea brought here for you soon, I shall take my leave.” You stood up from your kneeling position and quickly bowed your head, turning away to head for the exit before a hand suddenly pulled you down; bringing your eyes to meet with a pair of mint green ones.

In a matter of seconds, another hand tugged at the hem of your mask; pulling down the whole thing along with the hat as it revealed your whole face.

“I was right,” was all the culprit could mutter as he stared blankly into your eyes; only a few centimeters of distance between your faces. Immediately, pink sprawled across your face as you pulled back and looked away in embarrassment.

“Tokito-Sama, please refrain from doing such actions. And h-how come you remember me? No offense, but usually you easily forget things.”

“You just seem… familiar.” His words piqued your curiosity as you took a glance at his stoic face.

“Familiar? What do you mean?”

The young Pillar then raised his hand, pointing a finger at you.

“You… You keep showing up in my head.”

“... What?” you questioned as your brows furrowed in deeper confusion.

“Your face. It shows up in my head… a lot.”

That face of yours that once had a pink-tinted surface, rose to a warmer shade of red.

“In a good way or a bad way?"

“Don't know… What was your name again?”

“It- It’s not important. You should inform that issue to Kocho-Sama, maybe she'll know what's wrong,” you quickly spoke due to being flustered, as you immediately left and brushed it all off; not wanting to get your hopes up further.

Muichiro was then left alone with his thoughts; considering to talk to the Insect Pillar.

Bonus:

“My, my. Stuck in your head, you say?” a soft and gentle voice spoke in amusement.

The youngster then replied with a nod, not seeming to be expressing anything apparent.

“Let's see. How does your stomach feel when you see her in your head?”

“It feels… weird.. Like I'm getting tickled on the inside,” he stated with a blank expression.

“Well would you look at that. I think we'd better talk this out with Kanroji-San,” the woman with a purple butterfly hairpin stated with the same remaining smile; leading the young boy to head to the Love Pillar's residence.

#help what am i doing #what is this #yes i am new here if it wasnt obvious #kny #kny x reader #muichiro #muimypookie #muixreader #muichiro fluff #muichiro x reader #kny fic #tokito x reader #kny fanfic #kny fluff #muichiro tokito #demon slayer tokito #tokitou muichirou #pookie

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kurosstuff · 3 months

Note

🍯

Congrats on 728 followers!!!! 🎉 There'll be more to come

Could I request a lute x fem!bottom!reader with the nsfw prompt 8?

Thank youuu

THANK YOU♡♡ I hope you enjoy this♡♡

Warning(s): fluff to smut, firsts, possessive lute(?); kinda detailed kinda not? Lute does most of the talking during it- ;) Idk what I'm doing

I never wrote full smut before- I hope you enjoyed it!

Also please ignore how the bold messed up that whole paragraph. For something reason it never seems to work properly and I can't remove it

Lute x fem!bottom!reader: first kiss- first time.

Ao3 link to fic<- (whenever ao3 works again)

Taking things slow with Lute was- to be expected. The woman didn't know how to be gentle at all- the first time you held her hand? You shivered, rubbing the hand. She literally crushed it in her hold- accidentally broke it.

Smiling softly, remembering how you had to hold her hand gently, relishing in the soft touch of her hands mixed with the roughness from training and whatever the hell she does. "Hold it like this. Gentle, no pushing for strength, ok?" Is what you told her. And lute? Kept with it - being cautious-

"The hell are you doing?" Your dragged from your thoughts from your girlfriend grumbling coming into your shared apartment huffing st you "come here~" following her request she lifted the hand you were just looking at in such a soft tender way you can't help but still be surprised at - looking up at you silently, knowing what that look ment

"That's gentle. Doesn't hurt~" Purring out making her hum rubbing the faint bruise on the hand frowning "it's ok lute~ I don't mind~" kissing her cheek gently smirking at the red flush on her

Truly- you couldn't wait to actually kiss her. You smiled softly at the thought- the first kiss. Probably the first of many for you both. Given how this is the first relationship for you both. You never liking anyone like you did her- while Lute? Is a warrior. She doesn't understand the concept of love even now. She gets confused and never out right saying it? Is glad your there to hell her our. To explain it in a way she'd understand

Humming, watching her go about the normal ritual. Hanging up her helmet. Go and change into something more comfortable and just lay on the couch to rest up- moving close to her sighing, slowly moving to lay on her you stared at her softly as she watched TV a hand on your back mindful of your wings resting against your back

"What the hell are y-"

"can I kiss you?" You cut her off suddenly flushed at your own words- you wanted it to be romantic. At a dinner but. Here now? Laying on lute comfortably in your own home? Smiling softly it truly didn't matter where it happened as long as it was with her-

Lute? Stared at you, flushed darkly from your words- what you asked. Biting her lip, she sighed, nodding, not wanting to say it allowed. In fear, her voice cracked or worse? Her voice giving how eager she is to kiss you.

Understanding her, you grinned, leaning up and cradling her face softly, giving her as much time in case she changed her mind before finally kissing her gently - softly so softly, barely even touching her lips.

A deep groan escaped her, and like that- she kissed back rough. Nothing like how you did her. But that didn't upset you in the slightest - smiling into the kiss - knowing it'll take a while, but she'll be gentle with kisses you were sure- a loud yelp escaped your lips clinging to her tightly as lute effortlessly carried you to your shared room determined for something. "Lute love- where are you taking me?" You whispered out clinging to her tightly

"Claiming you as my mate officially," she huffed out, smirking at you roughly pushing you onto your back, not letting you speak a word- kissing you roughly biting your lips relishing in the moans escaping you- smirking leaning back off you taking her shirt off "make you my dove once and for all ~" getting more smug at how you watched her. Checking out her muscular build - snickering at your stuttering self - she hummed in thought

"Gonna make all your other times seem like nothing when I'm done with you, little dove~" she growled, climbing onto you, straddling your waist, cupping your chest roughly kissing you deeply "gonna be my good girl and say it?"

You stuttered, holding her waist flushed - unsure of how a simple kiss made her like this- such in a frenzy. Swallowing feeling all hot and bothered under her fidgeting nervously "..there's nothing to compare.. this- is my first everything~" kissing back gently a stark contrast to how rough Lute kissed you as if she was starved.

That confession made her tense freezing against your lips. Confused- nervous? She wasn't too sure- this was all new for her but. She truly assumed from your knowledge of this romance dating.. thing? You both have? You'd had to have your first time already-

"This is your first..? Shit ok - it's ok~ I've got you ok? I'll take good care of you~ just -lay back and relax~" Lute the ever longing calm(not. Never) fidgeted on you now? Nervous- looking down at your bruised lips how she bit them roughly. A hand up your shirt touching you for the first time. It all became so clear of what she's doing "Ill- I'll be gentle, ok?" She flushed, stuttering out slowly

But.. now Lutes is the one to deflower you? Take you as hers as the first? As nervous and down right terrified, she is another stronger feeling of smugness, a hunger of sorts. She'll be your first like your her first.

Smirking kissing you again but much softer in an attempt. It's still rough and hard, but compared to before? She was at the very least trying to be soft. Gentle for you

"Lute" you spoke out softly, leaning up to cradle her face gently, kissing her gently "its ok to be a bit rough, ok? I trust you -" whispering to her softly, rubbing her cheeks gently, grinding up into her slowly flushed trying to encourage her- which? Worked.

Snarling softly kissing you a bit rougher, bringing you into a heavy make out like a switch? Was hit. Licking her lips as she undid your shirt- slowly stripping you bare before her- under her "fuck dove~ your gorgeous~' she purred out moving to kiss your chest gently letting our a groan "gonna mark you up~ take you~ like that?" Leaving love marks acrossed anywhere she can get too smirking at the moans you let out.

"Lute~ lute, please~" hearing you beg for her gasping out, calling out her name like your singing a song. Made lute more wild- more hungry - starved to hear you- to hear your moans - any noise she could drag out of you. Smirking at how you spread your legs for her. Without even being asked

"That eager to be claimed by me, huh dove~?" She chuckled, growling out over you - seeing you nod covering your mouth when her fingers ghosted across your entrance "this eager? Want me that bad? Fuck~ your already so wet~" she growled our slowly gently pushing into you- waiting for you to adjust, kissing any stray tears away - praising you softly before slowly pounding into you

After getting the go-ahead, she bit her lip pound her fingers into you roughly relishing in the moans all the noises you made for her "faster~? Please~?" You gasped out flushed, arching your back off your shared bed into her, making her hum doing as you asked her

"Feel good~?" She hummed softly smirking watching how you were too fucked out to say a word seeing you nod she hummed tilting her head in thought "yeah I'm fucking you that good? Good enough to be accepted as a mate?" Lute hummed speaking in such an odd love filled way. Her thumb moved, rubbing your bundle of "joy," smirking at how you practically screamed under her, licking her lips, her wings fluttered at the noise. Expanding at how smug she felt. At how SHE got you to feel like this. How she had you in your guys bed claiming you. Taking you.

Making love to you.

Yet she couldn't say that- nor say that phrase. It's way embarrassing to speak "I'm fucking you that good? Come on~ say it. Say that I am-" maybe it's from how possessive she tends to get of you. Or the way she NEEDS to know she's serving you right. Loving you right. But she must hear those words

Nodding, you sobbed, spreading your legs more for her blinking through your tears. "y-yes lute~ you are~" you choked out sobbing, flushed up at her. Humming softly, she nodded, pounding into your rougher spreading her fingers inside you smirking.

She'll take that- not much of a praise, but she'll take what you attempted to say the noises as confirmation as such

"You close little dove~?" She purred out, pounding into you faster, watching you squirm under her. Shaking under her gasping too, he went to speak, nodding your head to her. Oh, how she prayed she could say how she felt about you spread out like this for her. How breathtakingly gorgeous you are. The words stuck at the tip of her tongue, threatening to spill yet her pride. The fear of rejection plagued her. Stopped her from uttering a single proper praise. She hopped her, leavening these marks - how she kissed your skin. Marked you as hers did the trick

After cleaning you off as gently as she could ignoring the moans of protest, "shh baby~ it's ok, no more rounds, ok? Just once~" laying beside you, wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you into her,"you did so good~" Nuzzling your neck softly before humming,"I need to ask-" waiting for you to sleepily look up at her as she pulled out a feather. Her feather. Flushed darkly she cleared her throat "..will you be my mate?" Softly speaking

Seeing you nod "yes~" drawn out with a practically squeal of a moan as she pounded rougher rubbing you faster "go ahead my dove~ I've got you~ let me see you cum for me~" Lute purred watching at that? At her permission. You screamed her name loudly, gushing around her, making a pool of your arousal around her and onto the bed. Lute uncaring kissed you "hurt? Did I go to rough?" Seeing you shakily breathlessly shake your head 'no' she relaxed visibly

"Rest. I'll take care of you ok?"

Smiling you gently took it kissing her softly "of course I will my mate~"

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lute #lute x reader #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #lute #lute smut #EVENT

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maybeyouaredreaming · 1 year

Text

Do you ever shut the fuck up?

Matty's on one and he's doing your head in with his childish antics. 3062 words. matty x fem reader Warnings - sliiight shame kink/power play, minor substance use, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, romantic choking?? passionate hate fucking, mostly a lot of torturous grinding like teenagers I have ten years' worth of Matty thoughts in my head. Please be kind this is my first fic! My friend made me publish this and I ended up accidentally deleting my 12-year-old blog trying to make a sub-blog so I hope it's worth it, that thing was my entire identity. Feel free to leave me your thoughts xx

He’d been on one since the Brits. Riled up from the backlash with the podcast, the stress of leaving the house in public after all the bashing from the press, and then having to be in the same room as the very people that spend their whole careers criticising him, it’s all compiled to Matty pacing around your house for days on end. But Yungblud’s newest show was it for him. He won’t sit down, he won’t talk about anything else. And it was starting to drive you mental.

“Who the fuck does he think he fuckin’ is? It’s not enough he fucks my old misses and steals my entire persona and aesthetic, covers my fuckin’ song and then smears me on the fuckin’ internet for nowt, now he’s gone and stolen my fuckin’ stage show?”

You breathe deep. Let it go. Let him get it off his chest.

“Yeah, babe. He’s so annoying.” You placate him monotonously, not taking your eyes off your phone. Scrolling meaninglessly through your Instagram feed.

“What a fuckin’ loser he is.” He huffs and leaves the room.

You relish the moment of silence however fleeting it is before he’s back in the room holding his stash box, and rolling another giant spliff in his hands as he sits right beside you on the couch when he starts again.

“I just don’t believe it, babe, honestly who the fuck does he think he is?”

You watch as he licks the edge of the rollie paper to enclose it and twists the top in his nimble fingers, your phone now discarded on the coffee table forgotten. Watching almost in slow motion as he drags his tongue across the paper. The action alone causing a light flush to heat the back of your neck, picturing the last time that tongue was pressed against your very core.

He takes you out of your reverie by lighting the spliff and handing it to you, an unspoken habit of his that you get first drag. Matty envelops himself around you on the couch, taking up your personal space and getting as close as possible. Usually an action that you enjoy, but he’s so irritating, so grating, at the moment that your skin crawls at the closeness. You breathe deep, toking the weed into your lungs, inhaling most of it and hand him back the spliff; which he takes deep into his own lungs so close to your ear you hear the draw he makes. Spurred on by his perception of your silence to mean you’re listening intently to everything he has to say, every thought racing around his head, he continues ranting. But you’re not paying attention. Instead, the growing irritation of him being so caught up on Yungblud, Halsey, and the press, whatever else the fuck he’s ranting about that you’re not following along with because he. Just. Won’t. Stop.

Pushing your anger down more, you snatch the spliff out of his hands and claim the rest as your own while he gets his phone out inspired by both his high and his anger and opens his Instagram. You watch off to the side while he goes on a rant on his Instagram stories, impersonating Dom’s accent. You watch his exaggerated expressions, his lips moving in a way they don’t usually, and the horrendous but accurate impression of Yungblud’s ridiculous accent. While otherwise entertaining, the pettiness and ridiculousness is suddenly almost rather ugly to you. Annoying in the very least. It’s a side of him you’ve seen before many a time, sardonicism being a language and humour you both share, but it has never put you off quite like this.

The more he speaks the more you want to scream at him.

You draw yourself from his side and stand up from the couch, deciding a cup of tea is all you need. Spliff still in hand, you reach into your cupboard and pull out your favourite tea mug, the kind almost the size of a soup bowl that was perfect for rainy days and shitty moods, and turn the kettle on. Between the final drags of the spliff, you butt the smouldering empty roach out in the filling ashtray on the counter and pull out a bag of lavender destressing tea from the pantry and place it in your mug. You can hear him still ranting in the loungeroom, saying something about “the underrated youth, fucking, generation” and even in the muffled distance it adds to the annoyance.

You take a deep breath and turn and face the kettle now hissing at boiling point from its dock. The throbbing in your skull grows louder as you focus on pouring the boiling water into your mug when you hear him shuffle into the kitchen behind you, feet dragging on the floor like a petulant child. Another deep breath and you take your first scalding hot sip, too annoyed to wait the minute for it to cool down as you usually do. If the weed isn’t calming you down, this tea is your last hope. He just stands there, up against the kitchen sink looking at you, clearly expecting you to initiate conversation so when it doesn’t come he speaks again because he can never let the silence linger. Can never let there be a moment of silence in his own mind. You’re never allowed a single moment of fucking peace.

“Have you seen it, babe? Watch this git-“ you cut him off, slamming the full mug on the bench and scalding your hand, but you’re too livid to notice and turn around to face him seething and ignoring the searing pain of your now-burning flesh.

“Do you ever shut the FUCK up? You’re so fucking obnoxious, Matthew!” Face flushed and eyes wide, your breathing deepens until your chest is heaving with the rage you’re feeling, the audible breaths filling the room. Unable to hold your ire back from the unwitting man in front of you.

He’s never seen you this angry before and for a moment he shrinks into himself, made several sizes smaller from the accusation and his own face flushing, before he steps up to you, toe-to-toe, face closer and eyes ablaze in mutual anger.

Finally silence. You’re practically nose-to-nose staring each other down intensely, looking for something in each other's eyes and finding only fire.

Until he snatches you by the neck pulling your face forcefully into his own. You kiss each other with such burning passion you become a mess of tangling limbs, clutching at his hair and pulling harshly, trying to get closer to him. He pushes you up against the counter, never removing his mouth from yours, hips grinding forcefully into yours allowing you to feel just how your intensity has him riled up as well. A growing heat between you as you gasp for the air he allows you to steal between tongues lashing. He wants to taste your anger, steal the breath from your lungs, feel you wreathing beneath him. You move together, two comets ablaze crashing into each other. His hands roam your body under your rising shirt, never landing in the same place while still grinding his body into yours impossibly close. He kisses down your neck open mouth eliciting a sinful groan to slip from your lips from the combination of his mouth, his hands, his body. Him.

You feel your control of the moment slipping further away. The control you need to satiate your anger truly. So you take it back bringing his mouth back to yours and push against him off the counter and steer your entwined bodies to the lounge. He stops you in the doorway to the loungeroom and pushes you up against the cool cement wall and takes back the control he briefly relinquished. Continuing his vicious attack to your neck, your collarbone, below your ear. Unrelenting lips, teeth, tongue, claiming your skin and setting you on fire further. Moan's slip from both of your mouths, his shuddering breaths against your skin, hot and wet.

You break your shared silence, between struggling for air and giving over to the sexual deviant he never fails to bring out of you. Tired of always letting him guide the moments you share, you flip your positions so he’s against the wall and clutch his jaw, bringing him to look you directly in the eyes again and relinquish his claim from your body, your other hand pushing him further into the wall. He doesn’t fight the position from the shock of the unexpected change of momentum. He’s never seen this side of you before. Dominant. Domineering. Taking possession of him.

“So, you can shut up.” You sneer, red and swollen lips curling in minor disgust. He groans at your tone and the position of helplessness he’s in, entirely enraptured by your fierceness. A shame kink he’s never expected to get off on emerging in the back of his mind. He wants to give in to you but his stubbornness tries to win him over again and he grabs your wrist holding your hand in place.

“You’ll have to make me.” He grunts back.

And that’s all it takes for you to pull him back into you and stumble the rest of the way to the couch, lips attached with fervour and fire. You draw away briefly, “Shirt and pants off. Now.” You demand. He complies, now free of all but his boxers he stands in front of you, reaching for you again but you step away and push him down to the couch with just enough force he doesn’t fight. You stand above him as he lies on the couch, taken aback for a second again, his own chest heaving, breath heavy and eyes hooded from lust before he drags you on top of him. Hands clutching your own shirt and tearing it off your body, buttons flying. You give him this, but only this, wanting to rid your hot flesh of the material clinging to your skin. It’s not what you want touching you. Not what you need touching you right now.

Your pants and now decimated shirt join his clothes on the floor. You join mouths again, lips and teeth resume clashing in a heated awkwardness you both ignore in your shared desperation. Hands roaming each other more, grinding like sexually repressed teenagers, edging but never quite relenting to ecstasy when his hands roam to your hips and clutch you against him, guiding your movements and force. Each clothed stroke brings a pant from his mouth you draw into your own mouth. He kisses down your neck again, his favourite spot. You take your newfound freedom to give him your next demand.

“If you really want to use that mouth as much as you insist, at least put it to good use.”

You take your body off his, him groaning from the movement and sudden disappearance of pressure where he wanted it most, and you lay back against the couch cushions expectant and waiting. It doesn’t take him long to clue onto what you’re asking and in a lithe move he shifts position and leans over your body, attaching his lips to your chest, your stomach, drifting lower and lower while drawing his hands up your legs enticingly. Inching closer and closer, drawing goosebumps over your skin. The feeling he brings you, even in your bad mood, is elating and you feel yourself slowly give over to his hands, his lips, and his gentle and worshipping touch. The exact opposite of what you want right now.

Between sighs and gentle brushes of his hair, your newfound dominant side kicks in again and you’re pulling the hair at the nape of his neck again. “Touch me properly, Healy.”

His breath hitches where he’s working on worshipping your stomach, every inch of your torso kissed and nuzzled by his face, taking in the scent of your skin when he finally runs his palm over your core. Feeling the sticky wetness pooling in your underwear already. Something primal snaps within him as he tears the remaining clothing from your body and attaches his lips to where you need him most. All lips, and tongue, and nose, and gentle fingers working themselves to satisfy you, he palms your now free breasts with his other hand. He eats you out like a man starved, barely coming up for air. Eventually adding a long and callused finger to your slick cunt, coaxing pants out of you and a slowly arching back.

You stroke his curls as he works, cajoling him. “I love it when you’re quiet. Such a. Good. Man when you’re not talking shit.” Your panting turns to moans as he circles your clit with his tongue, taking it in turns to suck, to lick, to bite. Equal parts humiliation and encouragement spur him on as he adds another finger to your soaking core, gentle spasms begin to surface from your well-attended clit. Your stomach tenses as his tongue and fingers work in unison to build you to a crescendo. The hand tending faithfully to your chest slowly moves down your torso back to its place at your hip, securing you in place firmly. Spurred on by the growing sensation in your belly, you clasp your legs around his head and begin moving your hips in response, riding his face from below. Your right leg hooked around his strong back, muscles rippling under your calf from the tensing of his movements, heel digging in, toes curling. Encouraging him further. He grows in pace and determination.

He will bring you to the edge. He will throw you off that cliff of ecstasy and then plunder your bones for his own sweet release. He adds a third finger, tormenting your g spot he drags from your body every shuttering ounce of orgasm that’s ever been drawn from you by anyone ever before. Earth-shattering raptures of bliss take over your body and mind, releasing from your consciousness the anger you felt for the very man that brought you to your current state. He laps your divine juices in his mouth, not wasting a drop of his reward for good behaviour. He kisses his way back up your overstimulated body still responding from his work, pulsing, undulating, and so very o-drunk, he takes advantage of your blissed-out state to reassert his own control. He kisses you deeply and you taste yourself on his lips. You thank him wordlessly, forgiving him momentarily.

“Am I forgiven, baby? Did I do well?” He asks into your mouth, grinding into your oversensitive core to remind you that work is yet to be done to bring him his own deserved release. You nod, mewling in response. You bring a hand to his cheek and stroke it as he kisses your neck again. “So good to me, Matty. So attentive.” He groans again, your words stroking his need to be appreciated, to be validated.

With your senses slowly coming back to you through shared kisses and soft touches, you trace your own way down his body and free his rock-solid cock from its cotton prison. The intensity of your tryst has bought him close to the edge multiple times without you having to touch him where he needs you to most, the desire to satisfy and appease you first is enough motivation to both fulfil and distract him from his own burning urges. Your feather-light touch to his engorged penis sends a whole body shudder through him in his position above you. If you continued to touch him so sinfully he’d come undone in your hand.

Gasping he takes your hand in his shaking grip, “Babe, if you keep touching me while looking like that I’ll cum right here. I need to be IN you.” And who are you to deny a man on the edge his only wish? You take a moment to lightly stroke his penis against your still-soaking entrance and make eye contact with him hooded eyes to hooded eyes, both of you with blown-out pupils from shared euphoria.

You both sigh as he enters you, taking a moment once he’s bottomed out, the base of his shaft against your labia. Hip to hip. With one hand, he grasps your throat tenderly, your hand holding his wrist to encourage his movement. Eyes still locked, nose to nose, he starts moving his hips encouraging your own slow movements with his other hand back in place on your hips. Breathing through the other's mouths, lips barely touching in anticipation, sharing moans and mewls and groans, he picks up pace forming a steady rhythm. The pressure and force building with hips bumping off the others, pants and moans filling the air, each other’s sweat coating your bodies. Neither of you can tell where he begins and you end. Joined as one, you wrap your legs around his body to keep him close, your free hand drawing blood down his back trying to grasp for something, anything. The rapture he’s causing your body is intense again, places he’s never reached before in his many explorations of your body have been tormented and punished. He elicits a scream from your chest, his name falling from your lips like a curse, like a song. Toes curling again, you pant, you cry out. “Yes, Matty. Yes! YES! UGH!”

And that’s enough for him to let go with a grunt and pant. Sapping him of all energy, you feel his warm sperm fill you up as he collapses across your body, still inside you, pulsing. He draws his arms around your body in a tender embrace and leaves a soft kiss on your still-heaving chest. You both lay like that for a moment, just breathing. You playing softly with his hair and him drawing circles on your cooling skin.

He finds the strength to push himself up from you and remove himself from your vagina and then laying back in your arms and kissing his way back up to your lips.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” He asks in disbelief. Shock crosses his face when he comes to. And you both start laughing as the intensity of what just passed you both sets in.

“Sometimes you just need to be kept quiet.” You say laughing and he pinches your nipple in response laughing with you.

#matty healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy oneshot #matty healy x reader #the 1975 imagines #sub matty #he's so fucking annoying sometimes #i love it when he shuts the fuck up #matty healy one shot #matty x reader #Instagram

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parkerpeter24 · 2 years

Text

warm confessions

pairing ➳ peter parker x reader

warnings ➳ SMUT. 18+, fluff, idk the description of the smut is not very good 😭

w.c. ➳ 3.4k

summary ➳ peter and you have always been great friends but when the radiator in your shared apartment breaks, the two of you are left with some things unfigured.

thank you to @glowunderthemoon for proofreading <33

you woke up early in the morning that saturday to get started on your assignment because you knew it would never get done until you forced yourself to do it. december was already around and the wind took a few leaves with it as it went, colder and colder.

you had started your work at seven in the morning. you checked the time again once peter was up. 9:34 am. your work was halfway done. you could hear the brunette rummaging around his room before he came outside, carrying the blanket he was sleeping in draped around his shoulders.

“good morning.” he mumbled, sitting on the chair next to yours.

“morning!” you gave him a smile before going back to typing away on your laptop.

“what are you doing?” he asked, taking a peep at your screen.

“i’m working on what you’ve already finished.”

peter waited for a while, probably not to seem rude, but he was feeling extra chilly this morning and his mind was craving the one thing that could fix this, “hey, can you make us a hot chocolate.”

“sure.” you replied, making peter give you a big smile, “after i finish my assignment.”

since then, peter had asked you every minute if you were done with your work and to make him a hot chocolate, to which, every minute you replied, “the college degree isn’t gonna get itself.”

“please make me a hot chocolate.” he gave you his best puppy eyes. you sighed.

“why don’t you make it yourself?”

“i like yours better.” if this was any other day, you would have smiled and felt your cheeks warm up, but right now, your priority was the work, that you knew if you got up from that chair, would never get finished.

“peter-”

“i know. i know.”

“the college degree isn’t gonna get itself.” you both said in unison, making each other laugh.

“why is it so chilly anyway?” peter said, finally giving words to his thoughts.

“it’s the radiator.” you told him, “remember how you always forget to turn it off before leaving for college?”

peter scoffed at your question, “i do not!”

“exactly. you do not turn it off.”

“you’re using my words against me.”

“peter, that college degree-”

“oh my god, you really love that assignment.” peter chuckled, getting up from the table, “i’ll leave you but promise to make hot chocolate when you’re done.”

“will do! now, go.”

you were done with the assignment almost thirty minutes after that.

you walked into peter’s room, carrying two cups of hot chocolate, and found him buried inside his blankets from head to toe, his laptop in front of him, playing a documentary on serial killers.

“boy you’re really into criminals.” you quipped.

peter turned to face you with a smug look, “i’m really into catching criminals.” you shook your head at the your stupid, genius friend before placing his cup of hot chocolate on his bedside table, “come cuddle.”

you and peter had cuddled before, mostly on movie nights when you accidentally fell asleep over his shoulder and he had to carry you to bed– but those incidents had been unintentional most of the time. hearing him say those words so casually made your heart flutter inside your chest.

“i’m not watching your criminal documentaries.” you announced before getting under the blanket, carefully holding the hot chocolate cup in your hands.

peter sat up, resting his back against the headboard, similar to your position. he reached out for his cup, not before giving you pouty lips, “what do you wanna watch?”

“the big bang theory?”

peter gave it a thought before finally giving in and switching the documentary for the sitcom. the two of you spent the whole day laughing and chatting in between the scenes, sharing stories whenever you found something relatable to yourself.

at some point you fell asleep with your head on peter’s shoulder. when he looked over your face, a small smile settled on his face, a warm feeling in his chest. his heart picked up speed when he realized how close your faces were, so much so that his breath was fanning over your soft lips. he shook the thought out of his head and turned down the volume a little. before he could help himself, he turned his eyes back towards you, not expecting you to be looking right into his eyes, with part lidded eyes of your own.

peter froze, not knowing what to do. you seemed like you had woken up from a dream, your hair a little messed from where you had nestled it against the brunette’s shoulder. peter didn’t dare move a muscle but your eyes never left him.

and then it happened. you moved forward and captured his lips between yours. the kiss was so short-lived peter wasn’t even sure if it should be called a kiss. maybe it was a peck but that didn’t stop his heart from beating wildly.

then it happened again. this time your hand moved to the back of his neck and this was a real kiss. your lips moved lazily against his, humming softly. the vibration reached every nerve of peter’s body, pulling a sound out of him like yours. however, to his disappointment, you had moved back before he could place a hand over your waist. your “best-friend” noticed your eyes remained closed. you mumbled a few words and fell back to your peaceful slumber.

‘what just happened?!’ peter thought.

the next few days for peter were weird at a supreme level. he didn’t want to avoid you, but he couldn’t stand to face you either. he felt guilty for kissing you back, his hand was almost under your sweatshirt for crying out loud. ‘best friends aren’t supposed to do that!’ he told himself.

you, on the other hand, were extremely confused as to what was wrong with peter. every chance you found to talk to him, he found a way to run away from you. if you walked into the kitchen while he was in, he would just rush out making an excuse; and there was no way of reasoning with him.

“peter i-” the brunette was alarmed as soon as the words left your mouth, earlier today.

the same mouth he’d kissed two days ago.

he backed away from the stove, making his way outside the kitchen, “i gotta leave. um, for an hour, so don’t wait for me here.” he laughed nervously, “bye then.”

“what about your breakfast?” you ask, pointing to the egg that was still on the pan, getting cooked.

“oh, i-i want it to be well cooked, so.” he shrugged.

“for an hour?”

“you can have it.” he said, rushing out of the kitchen.

and out of the apartment, as you heard the front door shut behind him.

when he made it back home– two and a half hours later– peter cracked the door open as slowly as he could, peeking inside to see if you were in the living room. when he didn’t see you, he tip-toed his way inside, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could.

unfortunately, he was met with your frame leaning against the adjacent wall as soon as he closed the door. how had he not sensed you, was his spidey sense not working now? in all honesty, you weren’t a threat to human civilization or so peter guessed.

“y/n.” he mumbled, standing straighter now that you caught him.

“your omlette is burned, but if you still wanna eat it, it’s in the dustbin.” peter could tell you were pissed.

“look, i’m sorry, i-”

“why are you avoiding me?” you cut straight to the point.

“i’m not?” peter tried to reason but the look on your face told him to not beat around the bush, “the other night, when we were watching the big bang theory…” you nodded, letting him continue, “you fell asleep on my shoulder and… well, i think you were dreaming.”

“wait, did i- was i talking in my sleep?” you felt your cheeks warm up. that dream, it was printed in the back of your mind. you clearly remembered being in a library with peter, where he told you about the feelings he’d harboured for you since childhood– you two hadn’t even known each other since childhood– and then you told him the same, and pulled him in for a-

“no, no. you never said anything, you just. um well you did something…” peter’s cheeks were a shade of pink.

“w-what did i do?”

peter’s eyes were focused on the ground or at the walls since the beginning of this conversation, but as he muttered the next three words, he stared deep into your eyes, “you kissed me.”

“what.” your eyes widened, feeling panicked and guilty and ashamed and maybe a little hopeful, “that’s why you weren’t talking to me.” you realised.

“i-it isn’t like that.” peter said and you looked to him, “i’m sure you didn’t want to kiss me.”

“did you want me to want to kiss you?”

there was a moment of silence before peter mumbled out, “maybe.”

“good. because i did.” you said, taking a quick step forward and placing a quick peck over his lips.

that caught peter by surprise, but in under two seconds, you were pulled against him, his arms around your waist pulling you as close as possible. you ran your hands through his hair as your lips moved against each other.

when the two of you parted, heaving, you gushed out the words you’ve been meaning to say for the longest time, “i really, really like you, peter parker.”

“i really, really like you too, y/n y/l/n.” he chuckled, pulling your mouths together again. this time, the kiss was more serious than the previous one, more eager. you tilted your head, noses bumping, tongues clashing in a sweet battle that was resolved only when you two needed to breathe, “let me show you how much.”

you nodded, giggling when he intertwined your fingers and ran towards his room with you. the two of you made your way inside. you cupped peter’s cheeks, pulling him in for another kiss as he led the two of you towards his bed, lips never really leaving the other’s alone until you were on your back, peter holding himself on top of you in a planking position.

you always did like peter’s room a little more than your own. it was better organised and always smelled like fresh roses, thanks to his laundry detergent.

“hey,” peter nudged his nose against yours, grabbing your attention as you hummed, “you okay with this?” he asked, gently placing his lips against your neck.

“yes.”

scattering a few kisses along your neck, he reached your collarbone, sucking gently on the skin as you closed your eyes, a ghost of a moan leaving your lips. your hand was placed at the back of his head, gently tugging at his brown curls and subtly guiding him until he found your sweet spot.

he nibbled at your skin, sure to leave marks for later, before making his way back up to your lips.

peter’s hands finally made it under your sweatshirt and you more than welcomed the warmth of his touch, breath hitching when his hand reached the underside of your breasts, “can i take this off?” peter mumbled against your lips, breaking the umpteenth kiss.

you nodded.

“say it.” the words would sound like a demand but peter’s tone was honey. a request that you just say one word in case you wanted him to stop.

“please, peter, take it off.” you breathed out and he was on it. peters fingers slid the material up and up your torso, you helping him my leaning up on your elbows, until the cloth was discarded onto the floor. peter’s eyes raked over your body and he gulped, finding himself breathless.

“gorgeous.” he met your eyes and your heart picked up speed. pulling him back on top of you by his science pun t-shirt, you kissed him again, tongue sliding past his lips.

“you’re gorgeous.”

“we can have a competition on that topic.” peter chuckled as his hands went around your back to the hook of your bra. his voice dropped deeper than you’ve ever heard him talk, “can this go next?” sending shivers down your spine.

“i think it’s your turn now.” you whispered back, tugging at his t-shirt.

“makes sense. why don’t you take them off?” peter pulled back, sitting on folded legs as he waited for you to get up and do him the favour.

you sat up, pushing his jacket off his shoulders, piling it on top of your discarded piece of clothing on the floor, his t-shirt was next. your eyes raked over peter’s toned chest and the taut muscles of his abdomen, “dude. you don’t go to the gym?”

“i don’t.” peter confirmed, chuckling a little sheepishly.

“oh please, there’s no way.” you wondered, running down a hand over his sculpted muscles.

peter pushed you onto your back once more, blushing when your hand refused to leave his chest, “now your turn.” you raised your eyebrows in mock offence.

“alright, perv.”

“i’m not-”

“i was joking, i was joking, i know.” you chuckled before cupping his cheek with one hand, scattering soft kisses all over his face.

peter’s hands were around your back once again, trying to get your bra to unhook, “easy, mr. i-don’t-go-to-the-gym guy.” you nudged his nose this time, your hands sliding back to pull apart the hook, leaving it up to peter to take it off.

peter did just the thing, pulling away the fabric gently, giving it a place on the floor as well. his eyes took in your sight, partly naked in front of him. his heart did a little flip, thinking about the intimacy of the moment. you were just his in this moment. and he was yours.

his hand reached up, cupping one of your breasts, kneading the skin gently. this time it was the loop of his jeans which helped you pull him back closer to you, “god, y/n, you’re so beautiful.” he mumbled, making you gasp when his thumb brushed over your nipple.

peter, once again, worked his way down your body. his lips leaving kisses along your clavicle before he reached the curve of your breasts, lips latching onto the swollen bud. you moaned, feeling his hot tongue against your skin, “peter, p-please.”

“please what, princess?” he looked up at once, making your eyes meet.

“i-i want more.”

peter nodded and complied faster than he had to any command in his life. his lips trailed against your skin, down and down until he reached the hem of your lower, hooking his fingers under the material.

“are you sure, this is okay, baby?” your heart melted at that question, and these new nicknames– you had to admit– were sounding like they were only meant to said to you by peter parker.

“yes, please take it off, pete.” you mumbled quickly.

he nodded, working the lower down your legs. to you, it was a painstakingly long process but the moment it was finally off, peter was situated between your legs, fingers now tugging at your panties. you let out a shaky sigh, feeling his breath fan over your sex.

peter focused on your heartbeat and noticed that it was faster than it was a few seconds ago, “everything okay?” he crawled back up in his previous position, face to face with you, “just tell me to stop and we can.”

“n-no, it’s not that. i just… i haven’t shaved, or anything.” you admitted.

“oh. that’s totally normal though.” peter’s voice felt genuine, making you believe in his words, “but if you don’t want to-”

“i want to.” you nodded, placing another kiss on his lips.

the next time peter’s fingers hooked underneath the hem of your panties, you lifted up your pelvic slightly, helping him slide them off. his lips never left yours. his hands, however, traveled down, getting used to every curve of your body, passing over the patch of hair until his fingers were in contact with your clit. you moaned against his lips, him swallowing each one of them.

he flicked over the bundle of nerves with his thumb, two fingers traveling further into your core, making your back arch. your best friend? pushed you back into your place, fingers finally moving in and out, spreading the wetness from your arousal around your cunt.

his fingers curled gently when he was deep inside, stroking that spot inside you perfectly every time he pulled them back and pushed back in again. you would be a whimpering mess if peter wasn’t connecting your lips in a kiss every five seconds. he knew you were looking for a release, leading him to speed up his fingers, thumb nudging at your clit every time he moved. you finally came undone over his fingers, a moan, louder than the previous ones, leaving your throat.

your breathing was heavy when peter rested his forehead against yours. he could feel your pulse where his fingers stilled inside your warm hole. the feeling sent something animalistic throughout his whole body, feeling himself twitch inside his trousers.

when you finally came down from your high, peter gently pulled out, getting up slightly to lick his fingers clean. you watched the very scene unfold in front of you and felt yourself get even wetter. peter sensed your need, unbuttoning his jeans while your hand quickly travelled to the drawer of his bedside, pulling out a condom.

the remaining clothes were finally thrown to the floor and there were the two of you. completely vulnerable. you eyed him stroking his length a few times and couldn’t help yourself from biting your lower lip, “p-peter, need you.”

“i’m right here, baby.” you hummed, ripping open the packet of condom and handing it to him and he rolled it over his cock before climbing on top of you once more, “we make such a good team.”

you chuckled at his quip, “we definitely do.”

“tell me if you’re not comfortable with it and we’ll-”

“i know, peter.” you smiled at him reassuringly, “that goes the same for you, okay?”

“yes.” he nudged your nose with his one more time, positioning himself with your core, pushing himself in, inch by inch until he was completely inside you. the two of you took a few minutes to get used to the feeling of each other, your legs wrapped around peter’s waist, his head resting against your forehead, “you feel so good.”

“you feel so good too.” you said, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, as if pulling him closer was even possible.

“c-can i move now?”

you nodded, “yes, please.”

peter pulled back gently at your request, before pushing back inside, setting a slow rhythm for the two of you until you both had adjusted to the feeling. eventually, peter sped up his actions, his hips rutting against yours, pulling out lewd sounds from both your lips as well as your pussy. his hand travelled down to stroke your clit, your moans only growing louder. you could hear peter curse under his breath and muttering sentences like, “can’t believe you’re finally mine.” mindlessly.

it wasn’t much later that you felt yourself pulled closer to the edge. your head was too much of a mush now to comprehend whether you said your thoughts out loud but the way peter’s thrusts grew deeper told you that you might have, his thumb relentlessly working on your clit was enough to send you spiralling into your second orgasm.

peter felt you clench around his cock, senses going on an overdrive and his thrusts too faltered for a second before he released into the condom, groaning loudly. his hips came to a stop, still inside you as you placed butterfly kisses all over his face, “you okay?” you asked and he nodded.

“you?”

“i’m great.” you sighed in content, which turned into a low whine when he finally pulled out of you. maybe you weren’t ready to feel that because you missed him filling you up the next instant.

“i’ll clean us up?” he asked, pecking your forehead before he took care of the used condom.

“i’ll miss you.” you called out after him, watching him disappear into the bathroom.

you smiled thinking back to the time you kissed him thinking it was all a dream. the radiator breaking might have led to the coldest day of winter, but the two of you would remember it for some warm confessions.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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