#I’m not as smart as her. you decided she was gifted and I’m not

[hopalongfairywrens]

Sick of this shit

[rebeccccccaaa]

Poker Face!

_______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::

:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...

:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3

WC~ 3.1 k

________________

“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around. 

“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him. 

“You guys are relentless,” she continued.

“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide. 

“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.

“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.

“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach. 

“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.

“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans. 

“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained. 

Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles. 

“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.

“That’s the plan.”

“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested. 

“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.” 

“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped. 

“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.

You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice. 

You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.

“Whatcha you got?” you asked.

“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.

“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”

It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope. 

“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.

“What?” Spencer questioned.

“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter. 

“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head. 

“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”

“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say. 

“Strip Poker!” 

“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.

“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.

“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.

“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”

“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup. 

“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said. 

“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”

“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely. 

Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you. 

Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent. 

Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.

But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched. 

You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow. 

“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”

“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again. 

“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.

Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat. 

Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly. 

“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.

“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can. 

“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.

Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.

“Hit me,” you egged.

“You got it,” he responded. 

A five. Fuck. 

Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him. 

“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts. 

“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost. 

“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.

“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards. 

“Blackjack, baby!” 

Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering. 

“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment. 

“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered. 

“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face. 

“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.

“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue. 

Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath. 

“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear. 

“Blah, blah,” you whispered.

“Don’t give me that.”

“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.

“What’s that?” he bantered.

“You lost.”

“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.

“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him. 

“Be my guest.”

Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.

“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.

“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully. 

Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek. 

He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him. 

You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.

“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.

“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you. 

You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully. 

You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.

“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment. 

“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”

You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment. 

“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”

“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey. 

“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers. 

“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.

“Let go, sweetheart.”

“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you. 

When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you. 

“That was really good,” you giggled.

“It really was,” he agreed.

“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly. 

“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully. 

“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly. 

“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed. 

“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.

“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.

You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever. 

[sugudoe]

᭡ ★ ׁ ׅ SUCH A TEASER! ⠀ׂ⠀⠀⠀ .⠀⠀─┈

. ֺ﹢ synopsis: ex-husband!nanami that filled for divorce under the idea he could die at any moment, and didn’t wanted you to suffer. four months later, after his injuries from shibuya, he is forced to retire, now the only thing he wants is having you back. before anything, you decide to get your little revenge on him.

. ֺ﹢ content: SMUT ╱ angst! and crack! ╱nanami is a bit of an asshole ╱ stimulation ╱ oral (fem!receiving) ╱ too much swearing ╱ no protection ╱ teasing ╱ face sitting ╱ mating press ╱ handcuff (male) ╱ good ending ╱ after shibuya ╱ burned!nanami ╱ english is not my first language.

. ֺ﹢ a. note: @emilyywhyy. another nanami smut, i’m feeling degenerate and happy. this one made me giggle and curl my toes, i want to be his little wife so bad! divider.

. ֺ﹢ wc: 6.k oopsie.

The brown pointy shoes of Nanami kept knocking on the wood floor repeatedly, mimicking the rhythm of his expensive watch — a gift you gave him on your first year together. It was supposed to be placed in the box of things to return to you, but Kento could only ever start to fill said box if his heart was put in there as well.

Nanami knew he was a fucked up man for many reasons. Firstly, he had given himself the nickname “Time-Bomb”, as in meant to explode — die — and have his remains hitting everyone in proximity. And secondly, despite all of that and his need to avoid hurting others with his eminent death, he still fell for you and build this relationship, the one he also broke up four months ago.

The blonde was also fucked in the head, anyone would tell him. Divorces are the aftermath of lack of love and trust, or uncountable fights, and yet, none of that applied to his two years long marriage to you. It was all perfect, balanced, the respect and affection you had for each-other was out of this world.

Nevertheless, his fears spoke loud, and made him act on autopilot.

You noticed how different he started to act when a boy, who you would encounter multiple times, had eaten a finger. You weren’t a sorcerer, had absolutely no idea what any of this meant, but the weight of the situation was noticed on your husband’s shoulders and yours, as well. The hours started to count down, and when it hit zero, life turned around.

Kento presented the divorce papers to you with a letter, wet eyes and as many “I’m sorry” the man could say before he turned around and left your shared home.

For someone who always presented themselves as smart and calculated, Nanami acted on impulse, and the gods seem to be punishing him even further now — inside this cubicle of an office, toasted coffee being gulped by his dry throat, he keeps burning himself after every sip, on purpose.

“Can you repeat that, again, please?” Kento puts the now empty mug on the wooden table, his green glasses are resting against the ceramic plate and he grabs it, staring at it to avoid looking at the male in front of him.

“Nanami.” Yaga sighed, hands scratching his beard. “You are no longer needed in this fucked up world. Look at your burns, you sacrificed enough! Now go home to your wife and retire in that country you always talk about — Thailand, isn’t it?”

“Malaysia.” The blonde corrects, before adjusting the sunglasses on his face.

“What’s the problem?” Yaga asks, although he doesn’t seem really into whatever it’s going on. “Problems in paradise?”

“Something like that.” Kento shifts on the chair, opening more of his legs, and letting his arms rest on it. “I fucked up with her. I thought something would happen, so I gave her the divorce papers and moved back to that old apartment.”

“You always fuck up when you think too much.” The older man sighs, piercing gaze hurting Nanami. “Let me guess, boy, you thought that death was coming and decided to spare her the pain?” At Kento’s nod, Yaga laughed with disdain. “She would still be in pain with your loss even if she hated you, but I doubt she does. Have she signed it?”

“No, we haven’t.” Nanami gets up from the leather seat and walked towards the only window in the room, lighting trespassing and reaching his wet face. “At any moment I fear the papers will come with her handwrite in it.”

“How long has it been?”

“Four months, it feels like years, though.” Kento looks over his shoulder.

“I bet it fucking does.” Yaga comes closer, strong hands dipping Nanami’s shoulder. “If she didn’t sign it yet, maybe there is a chance. Unfortunately, you will have to crawl on dirt and kiss the floor she walks to get her back.”

It’s a thought Kento avoided to have, he felt selfish to put you away and try to come back into your life, after all the pain. Like breaking a vase and messily fixing it with hot glue, he could burn the two of you again. Although, if Yaga was right, if there was a possibility you might be waiting for him, he should grab it. Right? It felt like all the types of right and wrong.

“I have to go.” Nanami walks towards the door, waving a quick goodbye.

“If you fuck up again, Kento, she’ll burn you herself.”

Nanami’s first stop was to a flower shop, and with the help of an old lady, he made the bouquet with clear intentions — violets for faithfulness, myrtle for marriage and red roses for love. A letter would accompany it, explaining the meaning with his own words.

❛❛ My darling,

if you find it in your interests to listen to this fool man, i will use your time with caution and care to explain of my wrongdoings with us and our marriage. it was never a question of lack of love, for even separated, it has always been growing for you and you only. our union is still sacred in my heart, and will always be. please, darling, reach to me if you so wish to know of the truth and let me beg for forgiveness. i’ll do anything.

with love, your Kento. ❜❜

And after the paying and a gentle tip, Nanami left the flower shop with a less heavy breathing, but an even more heavier heart.

Reaching his old apartment, one he had bought with his first salary as a sorcerer, he instantly missed the warm you had always brought whenever he stepped through the door and was engulfed in a hug, or had a spoon is his mouth with the dinner you were preparing. The cold lights of the living room and his small sofa would have to do for now, the sun was setting down and you were nowhere near the windows telling him how pretty orange and pink mix in the sunset, and Nanami would say they blend better reflected in your face.

Kento missed it so much. Your doll eyes shining bright staring up at him, the moonstruck smile in your wet lips, begging for him to kiss you. Fuck, your lips! Always the perfect match to his. Nanami also missed the feeling of them wrapped around his cock, how deep you could go and the thickness did not scared you. A single minute of this image in his head, and soon his scarred hand would be touching himself over his pants.

Like many nights before, he did the stupid routine of bringing his dick out, trying to massage it up and down, pressing when feeling like it. Nanami closed his eyes, throwing his head back and moaning quietly your name. Easily, he was too close, but as divine punishment, he never came. The pleasure would go away as quickly as it approached, making him grow desperate.

Four months without your presence, your mouth and your pussy. He knew he wouldn’t be able to last long, and in a desperate thought he wished he had burned more, maybe for his precautions of life to had been right.

What was he doing? Thinking of death, when you’re still out there, yet to receive his flowers, yet to reach him. Nanami grumbled and sweared as he got up and went to take a cold shower.

On the other side of the town, you had come home from work with an expensive looking bouquet in your arms. It smelled divine and putrid at the same time — of course, this came from your psychological warfare after reading the letter.

How could he do this? And how could he do this only now?

You wanted to cry and throw the flowers on your fireplace, and at the same time you had the urge to keep all the petals alive for in a way, a part of him would always be near you. The divorce papers greeted you like a sad lover every time you came home, it had not yet been removed from the place Kento placed it.

It was empty of your name as much as it was of his. Let me be a fool, you told it silently, and believe he still wants me.

You had only an imagination about the reason for your fairytale life to be brought down with reality. Not allowing yourself to drown in a pity party of believing he had cheated or fell out of love, but gods does it not make it a bit better? To think he left because he should, and not because he felt like he would die. You wanted Nanami alive and well with the same intensity you wanted him by your side.

Unfortunately, you have never been selfish, had you tried and clawed his torso, maybe he would have stayed. Instead, you allowed your husband to leave and drank two bottles of wine with vanilla ice cream.

You felt pathetic while opening a new bottle, and allowing your tears to smear your makeup while eyeing the flowers. Nanami had always been so thoughtful, anything he grants you was drowned in love. Still, he left you. Still, you miss him so much you could have him back right now, pretending these months never happened. With a drowsy hiccup and wobbling legs, you grab your phone and call him.

And he doesn’t pick up.

You sober up instantly, throwing the phone on the couch and raising your hands to your lips. Now you know you’re pathetic, and your drunk self needs a shower.

When you return to your living room with puffy eyes and a red silk pajama, you try to trick yourself into not staring at your phone. It takes you three more sips of the same wine you opened earlier, for your patience to run thin and unlock the cellphone.

There is a message.

Y/n, not love or darling. Maybe Kento is holding himself back, maybe he does not view you as that anymore. Maybe he is still stuck in this routine of fucking up everything, and although your face has a scowl in it, you answer cordially.

You slap your face hoping to sober up, but it does nothing but sting your cheeks. You moan in pain before letting the phone slip out of your grasp and walk to your room, leaving everything behind to try to sleep. You won’t take water, much less any medicine, you want to punish yourself for this desperation that comes whenever his name is mentioned.

It’s like loosing sight of what you should do and what you want to do. You should move on and find someone that won’t push you away, but you need your husband’s arms to cradle you to sleep. And, also, his secret weapon to deal with any insomnia and terrible thoughts — the dick. The perfect one, filling you up instantly, has you reciting your wedding vows in your head every time he makes you see stars. Your hands can’t do the same, not even the bright green toy your friend has presented you after dealing with a little crises of yours.

Nonetheless, you still reach down to your panties and try to play with your clit like your (ex) husband used to do. You never were capable of copying him, your pussy misses his long thick fingers and his cold tongue movements. You feel like crying all over again.

Is with your hand inside yourself that you fall sleep, much like Nanami in his own place. Both sad and with this pent up energy that could light Japan by itself.

The next morning, you wake up with enough pain to believe your head had grow two times it’s own size, and with fogged memories of last night, you halt your movements while smelling the flowers. In the limbo of dreams and reality, you had forgotten these flowers aren’t the usual ones your partner would greet you with, and instead are the desperation of Nanami to fix his mess.

You want to burn it again, but you decide against it and grabs your phone on the floor, eyes avoiding the texts of last night, you wonder if 9am is a good hour to call your ex husband and asks him about the impedimental fall of your marriage. Sighing desperate, you call him.

“Hello.” Nanami’s voice is still the same hoarse and low tone that has you closing your legs on your white couch.

“Hi, Kento.” You try to put strength in your voice, but it barely could be called a whisper. You cough awkward. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Nothing to worry about, Y/n.” No, don’t call me that, you thought. “Are you better now? Feeling any pain or discomfort?”

“I am…” you admit. “…but it’s not from the hangover.”

There is silence on the other line.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” Besides sincerity, there is a fragility in Nanami’s voice, and at that you almost cry. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You mean the flowers or the divorce?” Your voice is starting to rise.

“Both, I don’t know.” Is easy to picture Nanami in his suit, head hanging low and hands over his eyes. “I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Is the— Is there any way for me to fix this?” Desperation is added to the equation of emotions Nanami is revealing.

“I don’t know, Kento. I don’t want to be hurt again.”

“I won’t, I promise. I can guarantee to you, just let me explain.” You both are kept silent, only both breathings is heard. “Let me take you out today, a secluded restaurant where we can talk properly. If you think I don’t deserve you after that, I’ll respect your wishes, I’ll keep myself away. Please, just don’t let us regret losing this chance.”

Your hold on the cellphone grow tighter as you thought of Nanami’s words. The moment you snickered quietly you knew you deserved the truth of it all, even if partly you had an idea, hearing from the male was in your right. Having him trembling in your presence, begging for forgiveness, being pathetic was awakening new feelings in you.

“Pick me up at seven. And wear your cheetah tie.” Before Nanami can say anything, you hung up satisfied.

As always, Kento follow your orders, and when you open the door to your apartment later that day, he presents himself with the tie you required and another bouquet decorating his hands, the ring on his finger drying your throat right away. Nanami has a nervous smile when he lowers the flowers, showing you the scars you have only heard about from Shoko. Half of his face and body is covered with the pinkish tissue, and yet, he keeps being the most beautiful man in the world. You don’t tell him that, not so soon.

Grabbing the flowers, you turn around in place, showcasing your open back dress and a red pantie.

“Can you zip this up?” You ask, hearing Nanami’s groan before feeling his hot hands on your hips, he moves them slowly towards your ass before zipping the silk up to your waist. “All good there?”

“Yes.” Nanami answers with a tender grip again on your hips.

“Then why won’t you remove your hand?” You stare at him over your shoulder, red lips shinning with your saliva when you wet them, all under his hawk like gaze.

Before Nanami answers, you walk swaying your waist and clicking your expensive shoes on the wooden floor, putting the flowers on the vase and avoiding eyeing your ex husband and his completely hot self.

“I made the reservations for the Palpatine, you still enjoy their food, right?” He asks from somewhere behind you.

“We’ve been separated for four months, Kento, I didn’t change that much.” There is humor in your voice, for the same quantity that there is acid. You finish adding water to the vase and put it besides the other flowers the man has got you.

“It feels like years.” He comes by your side, smelling the sweet floral air impregnating your apartment. His eyes keep shifting between you and the colorful bouquets, until they fall on the unsigned divorce papers you forgot to hide.

“I bet it does.” You want to bite his head off when his long fingers (that you miss) moves closer to the paper, as if inspecting if it’s real. “Don’t worry, if you need, I’ll sign them when you drop me off later.”

“I thought I made clear I want for us to fix this.” Kento has a concerned look on his face.

“For how long? Until another big, dangerous mission? And the wheels will spin again, and you will tell me how cruel you are for staying with me?” Your don’t punch him, but you feel like you are close to, when your pointy finger starts hammering on his chest. “Kento, please, I can’t deal with the pain of having you just to lose again, it’s too much.”

“I promise you this will never happen again.” He says, his large hands holding yours to his chest, the rapid beating of his heart under your palms. “There will be no more pain, no more leaving.”

“I don’t want promises, I need actions. I need prove.” You roll your eyes and move away, wondering if all of this was a stupid idea. He follows you, and you believe it is.

“I’m not a sorcerer anymore.” Your back is to his chest, so you can sense his unhinged breathing that matches yours. Slowly, you turn to his scarred and beautiful face. “I’m retired now. After Shibuya, the higher ups agreed that my work as a sorcerer is over, that I needed rest.” Slowly, his hands moved towards your face, you flinched at first before allowing him to cup your cheeks. “If I had waited, right now we wouldn’t be fighting or nearly divorced, we would be somewhere calm and happier.”

“If- - If we are to make this work again, we-I, need boundaries!” He nods right away. “No more jumping to conclusions without consulting the other, no more conversations about death and pain. If we are together we will live happily, Nanami.”

You don’t allow him to say nothing more, arms going straight to his shoulders, you raise your feet of the ground and connect your starving lips together, melting in that fusion of longings and desperate love. You have missed him so much, but your body could never forget how it feels to be kissed devotedly by Nanami Kento, to have his grip on your waist trying to bring you impossibly closer or to hear his groans when you pull his blond hair. Four months, four years or decades, nothing could erase the love and connection you both had for the other.

But still, Nanami needs to learn his lesson.

You move backwards, mischief in your eyes and puff lips, Nanami feels his pants getting tighter with the look on your face. He knows what is to come, but he is not scared. You press both palms on his chest, making the male walks backwards until you both reach your room, there he ends up falling on the bed. He tries to pull you with him, but you shake your head in a negative motion.

“C’mon, please, darling. I need you.” He begs and you almost fumble at the sight of his large thighs spread for you, a messy hair and red lipstick smeared on his face. Your manicured nails scraping gently his cheeks, before tracing down to his neck, where you scratch, and still you go down.

“So good, you listened to me, baby.” You praise him when you touch the tie you ordered him to use, the print matching with your dress — Nanami thought you wanted the two of you to be paired, now, when you loose the tissue and prompts him to move back on the bed, he knows he fucked up when you follow him, crawling seductively and still, you are nowhere near his skin.

Holding it like a leash, you laugh sweetly with the desperate and piteous eyes of your husband. Nanami is torn between grabbing you to his laps or letting you command any movements of the night. It’s so hard to focus on not taking control, when you hair fails messily on your back, when you move closer to remove the tie and he smells your perfume, leaving a kiss on your neck that has you giggling or… Fuck, or when you bind him to your headboard. Nostalgia hits you both, but usually you were the one tied-up.

“You will behave, right, Kento?” Moving your dress up, you sit on his lap, perfectly on his growing bulge, earning a moan from him.

“Don’t call me that.” He implored, his jerking up enough to get a reaction out of you.

“What should I call you then…? Nanami!” You laugh among another moan elicited by him.

“You know that’s not my name for you, Y/n.” Your laughs cease, and his starts with the view of your irritated face. “Sorry, my darling.”

“That’s better…” The straps of your dress fall elegantly on your shoulder when you use his to come closer, whispering in his ear. “… my love.”

You kiss his cheeks, chuckling at his despair of not kissing your lips.

Raising on your knees, you remove your dress slowly, showcasing more of the red see through pantie he saw earlier, and no bra, the dress didn’t ask for one, he had know the moment the open back was show to him. Nanami had seen you naked a hundred and more times, but you have never failed to make him tremble at the sight of your beautiful body. The bed squeaked when on instinct, Nanami’s hands tried to reach your boobs. You knew he wouldn’t be restrained for too long, but he still owned you something.

“What are you planning on doing?” He demanded to know, eyes closed when you reached your hand down, touching his clothed cock, massaging it, opening his pants. However, you just pushed it down, but his underwear wasn’t phased by you. He hanged his head to the side, curious and already hating it. “Please, darling. Don’t do this.”

“Oh, why not, love?” Seductively, your words painted your tongue and lips with the fake innocence, while your hips started to move very slowing on top of his togged member, pulsating enough for you to feel even with two materials barring it from getting inside you.

“It feels like we are two dumb teenagers, y’know that.” Nanami groans when your pacing starts to get a little more faster.

Missing his heat and this feeling to an excessive extreme, you barely acknowledge whatever he had said. Your moans were getting louder, and the bed was shaking more, wether it was your doing or his irritated hands, you didn’t care. At this moment, the man under you was serving merely the purpose of getting you off, after four months of no cuming, you deserved it. Of course, you would rather be getting thrusted without mercy, his cock splitting your walls, still, he needed his punishment.

“Don’t cum, Y/n.” Nanami commands sternly, but you are too far gone to give a fuck. He hates when you waste your release on anywhere that is not his mouth, dick or fingers.

You keep moving, ignoring his pleas and demands, as if he was merely just a toy to satisfy you — he is, he knew that, wore that distinction like a badge of honor. But, right now, months after the breakup and longings of your pussy, he could not miss your first cum being on his underwear instead of on himself. You closed your eyes and whimpered in that way he knew you were either seconds or two minutes away.

“Fuck it.” You screeched when somehow the pleasure went away, and now two large hands had halted your movements. Leaving your daze, you realized Nanami had break free from his torment and tie, making you pout. “Don’t look at me like that, you’re not cuming on dry humping me, at least sit on my fucking face.”

No complains from you, he smiles at you silence before laying down, hands still on your hips. You move up, trying to get the wet panties off, after a few seconds of trying, Nanami simply tears it off to shreds. You want to complain and smack his smirk away, but fuck it, you’re too worked up to care. Rolling your eyes, you positioned yourself on his face, slowing descending into him, Nanami, though, doesn’t want carefulness, he pushes you down harshly and it’s already working his way to your release with his most cruel and perfect tongue movements.

Your grip on the iron headboard it’s nearly bending it, and your pleas and begs for more and more are getting drowned by moan after moan he takes from you. Nanami slaps your ass, a sign for you to start humping his face as well. His nose keeps touching your clit, and you can’t help but want to cry when he starts to gently bite it as well, moving his tongue inside, separating your folders.

“I- - I can’t, I can’t! Fuck.” Babbling nonsense, you feel the build up all over again, moving one of your hands to his hair you squeeze it enough to hear his moans of pleasure through you. “Baby, I’m… I’m…close!”

You hear something muffed, could only assume is Nanami encouraging you to let it all out. And when the knot on your lower body begs to be released, you let it go with a loud moan, tears falling and hips still moving, four months of neediness going all the way down to your husbands face and mouth, and he keeps devouring your still.

After what felt like hours, you move up with weak knees, Nanami mumbles something in an equally dazzled stated, you fall on the side on your back, laughing when he hoovers over you in an instant, pecking your lips a few times before going for your neck, where he is sure to leave those love bites and marks he adores so much. When he reaches your boobs you know he is going to be occupied for a while, sucking one onto his mouth while the other is being mercilessly pinched by his fingers, you cry out of desperation for more and more, and he keeps granting you. Always will.

He bites and sucks alternating between them, and you sense when one of his hands go all the way down to your pussy, two fingers separating your folds and penetrating it. Nanami eyes go up to stare at you eyes, drowning himself in more pleasure over your nearly passed out expressions — open mouth, bright eyes, moans of his name slipping from your lips, he is losing control with you.

“I need you, please Nana… Baby, please.” You keep begging like a prayer, hoping he can grant you what you missed the most.

He sucks stronger one of your tits before retreating himself with a loud pop sound. His fingers, though, keep moving in a steady rhythm, shaking your legs and pulling the knots from your inside. You fear you might faint if you don’t cum again.

“One more, my love. You can do that for me, right?” With the way he whispers near your ear, biting gently you lob, you could do anything he asks in this moment. You nod frantically and he coos at you with a sweet laugh. “I know you can, go on, baby. Cum for me.”

You follow his lead right away, letting yourself set lose and relax, drenching his thick fingers deep inside you while he groans at the feeling of your walls around him, knowing for a fact that it will all feel better when it gets replaced by his cock. Nanami knows that overstimulating you is a prize to win, but right now, you both need each-other in a more primal way. If you ask, demand, he will fall down on his knees and glue his face to your pussy until no one can get him out, he can leave his own needs for a century later, but right now you both are desperate for the raw feeling only him inside you can provide.

He moves away while you come back from the high, and remove all his clothing, before coming back on top of you. Kiss on your necks making you giggle in anticipation, soft sighs scrapping both of your throats before a kiss is started and deepened quickly, his tongue always so controlling of yours — you are too far gone in the need to be fucked to try and keep control of anything anymore, he knows it, he will take good care of you for that.

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.” Nanami praises you, one hand rests on your leg, he adjusts it to his waist before holding his own member and sliding inside you. “Fuck, it’s so fucking tight.” You moan with just the feeling of him going deeper, and when he stops, balls deep, you whine sad. “Shh, it’s okay baby- - I’m just feeling you.”

“Feel me while moving…” You blurted while moving your hips, hoping to catch some reaction out of it. Only a harsh slap on your thigh was the answer. “…please…?” He chuckles.

And then, he moves. Slow at first, as a way to say he is doing what you please but it’s still his call, his command. You don’t complain even if the words and sassiness are scratching your throat, they are being buried by your long moans and whimpers. Instead, to focus on anything else and let your husband grant you what you need without anymore punishments for the two of you (him for being a dick, you for being too eager), you wrap your other leg on his waist, making him go even deeper and the both of you groan simultaneously.

It’s so good you now it won’t last long. The first feeling of being buried by his thick cock is much better than you remembered, and it’s been four months, you won’t judge each-other. Nanami, though, thinks different. It’s his first time fucking you after a long time, he is going to make all of this worth it. If he had any say in this, he could be inside you for days.

A yelp scapes you when his thrusts stop being gentle and turn into a maniac rhythm, dazzled by your scent and the feeling of you wrapping around his dick, Nanami is surely losing control, you think, and while mumbling on his ears about how good he feels and how much you love him, he goes back to the slow pace. You groan and he laughs.

“You’re evil.” You whisper with a hiccup, fat tears forming on the side of your eyes. Nanami was focused at staring down, seeing himself going in and out of you, but your broken voice made his head snap up, his burned hands holding your face and cleaning the tears of frustration, he kisses them as well.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” You nod at him. “That’s what I want, baby. To keep it good for as long as we can.” And so, the fast pacing comes again.

You feel desperate and hot, your skin is burning with the desire to release yourself all over again, to crumble under Kento, and let yourself be taken care by him. He holds you like you’re a delicate paper, and still he fucks you like you are unbreakable. Maybe you are, when he moves both your legs to rest on his shoulders and starts the mating press position, you know you are stronger than you look, otherwise, you would have fainted with how terribly good it fucking felt to be even more deeper and filled.

Nanami did not stop for even one second, he didn’t need to catch his breath or stretch his legs, he only needed you. To be inside of you deep enough to never be apart, to print his size on your body so only he could bring you that pleasure. Of course, none of that matters to you — too busy moaning so loud and scratching his back to the point of bleeding. Everything felt too much, and too good.

“M-m…more…” It’s the only thing you can say on this position, Nanami smirks at your requests and complies to it, even more faster and brutal, your legs are shaking by his shoulders, he push them down to your chest and uses the back of your thighs to keep himself balanced. His eyes can only focus on your wet entrance receiving all of it, no complains. “S-so good, baby!”

You feel the same knots from earlier starting to untie, from your abdomen, your hands instantly goes to Nanami’s thigh, trying to stop his movements but he won’t budge and you’re glad for it.

“Gonna cum, baby?” He asks, and you nod with closed eyes and open mouth. “You keep wrapping me like this, I can’t handle more.”

“Please, cum inside me.” Nanami groans at your request, and like fuel to fire, he doesn’t stop thrusting. You know you made the right choice, he is going to fill you whole.

The burning of yours and his skin makes you wonder if you’re seeing smoke coming out of your bodies. It’s all too heavy and foggy, and the way his hands are gripping your thigh more and more, certainly marking it, you know what’s about to happen. Staring at him with pleading eyes, he nods at you, and you cum over his still moving cock, a shinny mess of your liquids mixing with his own, coming right after yours. Nanami removes your legs from his shoulders, letting them go to his waist again, he falls over you, kissing you starved while still shuffling inside you, making sure both of yours release are mixing deep in your womb.

After a few minutes of dizziness and high, Nanami presses kisses to your neck, prompting you to snuggle him impossibly closer to your body.

“I love you,” he says. “and I’ll never make any stupid decision again. You are mine and I’m yours.”

“Good thing we didn’t sign those papers.” You weakly state, already feeling the need to sleep. “I love you.”

“I’m still going to rip it, burn it. Whatever it takes to get that thing out of existence.” Nanami grunts when he gets up, you pout at the lack of being filled and he snorts. “Just a second, love.”

The vision of his naked ass has you ready to jump on him again, but you control yourself when he grabs something in his pants’s pocket and walk towards the bed, sitting in front of you and placing a box on your hand. You know what it is instantly, that doesn’t stop you from crying when you open it to be presented with the sight of your wedding band, the one you had throw at the table the night he left. You had searched for it everywhere in the apartment, not knowing he had took them.

“Let’s get married again, what do you think?” You sob at his request, nodding your head right away, not trusting your voice. “How about we go to Malaysia? Beach wedding, only the two of us.”

“Forever…?” You wonder while he puts your ring on your finger, while you touch his, that he has never removed, kissing his hand after it.

“Yes, my darling, forever.”

[apclyptc]

DUMB— chris sturniolo x reader

synopsis: reader is smart and top of her class in college. chris however, is not too interested in her intelligence.

warnings: full on smut, swearing and also drinking/smoking, use of the pet name baby, use of the word slut, dumbification, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex

“hit her from the back she can’t do nothing but yell,

and she smart as fuck i got this bitch straight out of yale”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Ever since you were younger, you seemed to have a gift for memorising and holding information. Because of this, people assumed you studied constantly.

Obviously, you did study. But it wasn’t like you didn’t have a social life. You enjoyed college parties like any other person would.

So when a guy in your class invited you to his frat house for a party, of course you didn’t refuse.

The only thing was, this guy just happened to be Chris.

He was in your social studies class, usually sat at the very back with a couple of his friends in the lecture. You knew of each other, having shared mutual friends from other classes. You’d never really spoken to him one-to-one, mainly because he was always socialising with pretty much everyone, and while you weren’t shy, you also weren’t a huge fan of jumping into conversations with people who all knew each other prior.

It also didn’t help that Chris was the most attractive man you had seen in college, or maybe in your life.

You were good at hiding it, but he made you nervous. Of course, when he invited you to his fraternity house, you faked an air of confidence so you didn’t weird him out.

“Hey, it’s Y/N, right?” Chris began, and when you affirmed with a nod he continued, “I’m throwing a party tonight, you should come.” He threw a smile in your direction, and you pushed down the immediate feeling of giddiness before answering.

“Yeah sure, sounds good. When does it start?” You asked nonchalantly as you could.

“Around 10. You can come whenever, it will be on way into the morning anyway.”

“Great. Am I good to bring a couple friends?” You replied, not wanting to walk into a party alone.

“Yeah that’s fine with me. Ask your friend Lola, my buddy Nate has a thing for her. Just don’t tell him I told you that.” He smirked at you.

That smirk. You wished you could see that smirk while he was hovering over you as he sla—

“Lola, yeah! I’ll bring her along with me.” You snapped out of your less than decent reverie and gave Chris a response.

“Perfect. I’ll see you there, Y/N.” He gave a quick glance up and down your body before turning and walking away from you.

It was then you realised, you had absolutely nothing to wear. Plus, since Chris just personally asked you, you decided you may as well dress as hot as possible.

Y/N: hey lola, frat party tonight?

Lola: do u even have to ask??? usually it’s me dragging u to these things

Y/N: true lmao. i’m gonna need to borrow something from ur closet

Lola: ooooh why, do u need smth slutty?

Y/N: maybe

maybe i was personally invited by the party thrower

Lola: who

Y/N: chris 😇

Lola: GIRL-

ok ok i’ll give u the sluttiest thing i can find

come over later and we can pick something out for u

A couple of hours later once you were finished at college, you headed to your best friend Lola’s dorm.

You two had spent what seemed like hours choosing each other’s outfits.

“By the way, a little birdie told me that Nate has a thing for you.” You eyed Lola up, knowing she had a soft spot for him.

“Oh, really? That’s interesting. Totally unrelated but would you still happen to have that box of condoms I gave you for secret santa last year?” Lola gave you a suggestive look, raising her eyebrows.

“Of course. Already put two in my bag.” You both laughed.

You arrived at the party at 11:27, mainly because no one turns up to a party on time, but also because Lola took a ridiculous amount of time to get ready.

You met up with a couple of girls from the dorms opposite Lola, seeing as they were also invited.

As soon as you arrived, you were immediately shown to the kitchen where an array of bottles were displayed.

Vodka, whiskey, rum, tequila and practically any spirit you could think of, were decorated around the kitchen.

You grabbed two cups, one for you and Lola, and filled it with vodka and soda.

“Hey, I think I see Nate and Chris over there.” Lola points behind you through to the games room, where lo and behold, Nate and Chris were playing what looked like an intense game of beer pong.

The two of you walked over to them, Nate noticing you first.

“Hey! Come help me win the game, Lola.” He gestured for her to play with him.

Chris had then turned around to see you, that smirk appearing yet again.

“You gonna help me?”

You took a quick swig of the contents in your cup before joining Chris at the table.

“Atta girl. Nice of you to bring Lola for my bro.” He spoke in a low voice so that only you could hear.

“Chris, stop flirting and throw the damn ball.” Nate teased, and you felt your cheeks grow red.

Chris threw the ball into the cup closest to him, the object landing into the beer and making a splash.

“Drink up, fool.” he glanced at you to make sure you were watching.

After a while, you had enough to drink to give you a confidence boost, and were now invested in the game of beer pong.

It was down to one cup each, and you had to make the final shot.

“Come on, Y/N,” Chris spoke from behind you, “you got it.”

It was too hard to concentrate with his voice so close to your ear, and his body so close to yours. You threw the ball, but it narrowly missed the cup.

“Yes! Chris you’re a loser!” Nate laughed at his best friend across from the table, throwing his arm around Lola who had locked eyes with you as he did this.

‘Don’t forget the condom’, you mouthed to her playfully, and she winked, pointing to her pocket.

Nate and Lola had then disappeared together, leaving you alone with Chris.

“Sorry I missed the cup.” You joked.

“Apology accepted. You wanna smoke with me?” He pulled out a perfectly rolled joint from his pocket.

You weren’t a huge smoker, only joining with Lola occasionally when you felt like unwinding.

Nevertheless you agreed, deciding you may as well since you were at a party.

Chris lead you upstairs into his room. Your eyes immediately glanced around the room, taking in its appearance.

Chris sat on the edge of his bed, and you followed.

“Could you get my lighter, it���s in the top drawer over there.” He pointed to the bedside table at the wall, and you grabbed the device, passing it to him which he thanked you for.

“Lola and Nate seem to hit it off.” You spoke.

Chris held the joint between his lips, lighting it before replying, “he’s down bad for her. Has been for a while.”

You giggled to yourself, knowing Lola felt the same about him. It was a good feeling for you, because you knew Nate was a nice guy.

“They’re a good match. Nate’s a good guy for her." You responded, watching Chris take the first hit of weed and exhaling the thick smoke.

“Yeah? Is that what you’re into? Nice guys?” He asked you, taking another hit before passing it to you.

You took the joint from his hand and inhaled.

“I guess. I think I prefer someone more… unpredictable.” You had Chris in mind as you answered. You had yet to figure out why he invited you here himself, since you didn’t know each other that well.

“In what way?”

“I don’t know, someone I can’t figure out. I like to be kept on my feet, someone like Nate is easy to understand because he’s straightforward. Which is great for Lola, she deserves someone who is like that.” You thought about all the past few guys Lola had a thing with. They weren’t that nice.

You passed the joint back to Chris who had his eyes trained on you as you spoke.

“So you like the tension, not knowing when or if someone wants you.” He tried to understand.

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice when it’s easy. But..” You trailed off.

“It’s more fun not to know.” Chris finished your trail of thought as if he knew the feeling.

“Exactly.”

A comfortable silence sat between you, passing the joint back and forth until it was gone.

“I have a question.” You asked, breaking the silence.

Chris tapped the joint out on his bedside table, and brought his attention back to you, “Go ahead.”

“Why did you invite me here? I mean, it’s not that I didn’t want to come, it’s just that we haven’t really talked much.” You asked, needing to know.

Chris chuckled.

“I thought it was more fun not to know?” He smirked, using your own logic against you.

“Come on! Tell me.” You persisted.

Chris leaned in closer to you, and you could swear your heart was beating out of your chest.

“I always see you in class,” He began to explain, continuing to close the gap between you, “sitting close to the front, answering all the questions. You’re pretty smart, aren’t you?”

The tension was palpable, and you felt yourself grow wetter as his low voice penetrated your ears.

“I want an answer.” He demanded.

“I- I guess so.” Your voice wavered, all of a sudden finding it hard to speak.

“I’ve always wanted to see how long it takes until I can make you speechless.”

And it surely didn’t take long, because in moments his lips were on yours.

It was as if every guy you had dated never existed, the feeling of Chris kissing you overrode any experience you had thus far.

His left hand rested on the back of your neck while his other hand took the opportunity to roam around your body, from your thighs to your chest, until it landed on your waist.

Your hands swiftly made their way to his arm and hair, while deepening the kiss he had started.

In a quick movement he lifted you onto his lap, letting both his hands find purchase on your waist.

With your arms wrapped around his neck, you slowly moved your hips rhythmically, earning a soft grunt from him.

Pulling away, he spoke, “You want to do this?”

You nodded, before asking the same of him.

“Do you?”

That same smirk that sent you reeling reappeared again.

“Does this answer your question?” He grinded his hips upwards into you, allowing you to feel his growing hard-on.

A whine escaped from your lips.

“No more talking.”

You reconnected your lips to his, the energy of the room turning into heated passion.

Chris’ hands slowly dragged down to your ass, kneading them with roughness.

You whined again, unable to stop any sounds from leaving your mouth.

The sound of the ongoing party downstairs could be faintly heard from inside the room, but you paid it no mind. You couldn’t, not while Chris had all his attention on you.

He briefly paused to take off the top you were wearing, and then resumed with his skilled tongue, sliding against yours. He took you off his lap, not separating from you for a moment as he laid you down on your back.

“Such a smart girl in class,” he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it behind him, “Does anyone know that you’re really just a little slut?” He kissed your neck, then your jaw.

“I need an answer.” Chris demanded again, and you rubbed your thighs together in want.

“No.” You breathed.

“No, what?” His hand glided up your thigh, separating them.

“I’m not a slut.” You managed to find words.

“So if I reach in between your legs, right now, you won’t be dripping for me?”

You knew you were.

A hand snaked through your skirt, pulling aside your underwear, and he slowly dragged a finger down your pussy.

“I’ve barely touched you. Do you want me to? Want me to touch you right here?” His finger, coated in your slickness, inched its way inside, just enough for you to feel it, but not enough to satisfy you.

You bucked your hips up, trying to feel something, anything.

But Chris pulled his hand away, causing you to whine in frustration.

Luckily for you, he wanted to feel you so badly, he couldn’t tease you for long. He grabbed the hem of your skirt, pulling it down your legs and threw it in the same direction as his shirt.

“I want to hear you. You love opening that mouth when we’re in class.” And with that, he pulled your underwear aside and attached his mouth straight to your throbbing clit.

All you could do was moan and writhe in his bed as he delved into your wet cunt, licking up all the arousal like a starved man.

Your hands flew to his hair, tugging on it desperately. The vibrations from the groan that left his mouth sent waves of pleasure tearing through your body.

Chris’ hands dug into the flesh of your thighs as they instinctively tried to close around his head.

“Fuck, right there!” You moaned loudly as his tongue dove inside your hole.

One of his hands left your thigh and drew circles on your clit, causing you to arch your back at the white-hot pleasure you felt from his ministrations.

Chris could feel his dick pulsate through his pants at the sounds you were making. He needed to feel you.

“You want me to fuck you, huh? Fill you up good?” He asked, and you knew by now he wanted an answer.

“Please, please, please.” Were the only words you could muster, too high on the feeling Chris had given you with his mouth.

He wasted no time on giving you what you were begging for, quickly discarding his pants and boxers, along with your bra and soaked panties.

Lining himself up with your entrance, he slid his dick over the slick of your pussy and pushed the tip in.

Your eyes had shut in anticipation, but when he made no attempt to move you opened your eyes to look at him.

He had waited until you made eye contact with him before pushing his entire dick inside you.

You both moaned at the full feeling, your walls contracting around him.

After a few seconds, Chris began to move.

Thrusting in and out at a slow pace as if to torture you, he shuddered, revelling in the feeling of your tight cunt.

“Fuck, feels so good baby.” You whined at the pet name, bringing his face down so you could kiss him again.

He started picking up the pace after this, your tongues smashing together in absolute need.

“Faster, faster.” You babbled, drunk off the sensation of his cock piston in and out of you.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you dumb?” He grunted, loving how you could barely string full sentences together.

“Yes, yes, please. Need you deeper.”

The dirty words spilling from your mouth caused him to moan, and he flipped you onto all fours.

“Wanna see that pretty little ass bounce while I fuck you.” He muttered as he entered you yet again.

His pace was relentless, his balls slapping against you from the way he was pounding deep inside you.

You were just making sounds as you tried to say “Harder, faster, more,” but the words couldn’t form properly.

“The slut wants more? Can’t even speak but you’re begging for more?” He taunted you from behind.

You felt a sharp slap on your ass, followed by a soothing rub directly after. You practically yelled as Chris’ hand came down, your cunt convulsing.

“Knew you’d like that,” he slapped your cheek again, “Can feel you squeezing around me.”

You could feel the knot in your stomach unraveling, and you knew you wouldn’t last longer.

“Chris, gonna cum.” You managed to speak between moans.

“Come on baby, need you to cum while I’m inside you.” He groaned, trying to hold his own release off.

His words guided you right to your orgasm, shaking and crying while you came.

“Fuck, you want my cum inside you? Want me to stuff you full?” His pace was losing rhythm, chasing his orgasm while simultaneously overstimulating you.

“Mm, cum inside me. Want to feel it.” You cried, thrusting into him so you could feel more of him.

“So good, feels so good. Oh, I’m gonna cum inside of you,” Chris rambled, “Gonna fill you up with it.”

His moans were uncontrollable, spilling out of him as he relished in the warm feeling of your pussy.

“Cumming.” He grunted, as ropes of his cum spurted out, coating your insides until there was nothing left.

You both took the time to catch your breath, as Chris pulled out of you with a shaky sigh.

“Let me get you a towel.”

You turned onto your back once more, trying to comprehend the mind blowing sex you just had while dozens of people were partying downstairs.

Chris came back with a towel, cleaning the both of you up and passing you your underwear back.

“Hey.” You finally spoke, tired from all the stamina you had just burned.

“Hey.” He replied back to you.

“That was… amazing.” You sighed.

“Yeah, it was fun.”

You weren’t sure if he wanted you to leave now, or if you were supposed to stay, so you opted to do nothing.

“Let me take you on a date.” He announced, and you laughed.

“Don’t you think we’ve done this all a little backwards?”

Chris smiled and brought your head to his shoulder.

“I guess I’m just unpredictable.”

You then remembered you didn’t even use the condom you brought with you. You’d have to make your first date with Chris a trip to the pharmacy.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

a/n haha…. always wear a condom, kids!

hope you enjoyed my first oneshot.

send me any requests you want me to write! i think i’m gonna do an nsfw alphabet next, for chris and matt too

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐁𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → embarrassing situation

Summary → Peter and you get caught by May.

Peter’s sixteenth birthday had been awkward, to say the least.

May had tried her best to make it memorable—she’d baked his favorite cake, gifted him a new Lego set, and even made sure his friends came over earlier to celebrate with him. Everything seemed to be going fine, that is until the last gift came, when everyone left and it's just May and Peter.

“Happy birthday, Peter!” May beamed as she handed him a small, neatly wrapped box. Peter furrowed his brow, curious, looking up at her suspiciously.

“Uh, thanks, May,” he said slowly, already a little concerned. He tore open the wrapping paper and lifted the lid, only for his face to instantly turn beet red.

“Oh my God, May!” He groaned, his eyes wide as he stared down at the contents of the box—condoms. His whole body felt like it was on fire from embarrassment.

May, leaning casually against Peter's study table, had the audacity to smirk. “What? I just want you to be prepared, Peter,” she said, entirely too calm for his liking. “You’re sixteen now, you’re growing up, and I’m not dumb. Boys your age—”

“May!” Peter flailed, waving his hands as if he could physically stop the words from coming out of her mouth. “Please! I don’t even have a girlfriend!”

May tilted her head and gave him a look, one of those all-knowing, teasing looks that made Peter feel like she could read his mind. “Really? You don’t? So, what about Y/n? Weren't you crushing on her? I literally saw you stutter in front of her when she came over at the party.” Her eyebrows wiggled, and Peter wanted to sink into the floor.

Peter’s face turned an even brighter shade of red—if that was possible. “That’s different! I mean… I haven’t even asked her out yet!” He stammered, shuffling his feet awkwardly as he tried not to make eye contact with May. He glanced at the box in his hands and quickly shoved it behind his back, as if doing that would make it all disappear. “This is... so weird.”

May chuckled, walking over to him, and affectionately ruffling his curly hair. “It’s not weird, Peter. It’s called being responsible.” She softened her tone, looking at him with sincere eyes now. “I just want you to be smart about these things when you’re ready. You’ll thank me later.”

Peter groaned, turning away from her as he tossed the box into the drawer of his nightstand like it was a hot potato. “Yeah, yeah. But for the record, I’m not using them anytime soon. Seriously.”

Exactly one week later, Peter found himself standing beside your locker, nervously shifting from one foot to the other as he finally worked up the nerve to ask you out.

---

Now, five months had passed since that nerve-wracking moment when Peter had stammered his way through asking you to be his girlfriend. His hands had been clammy, he couldn’t stop fidgeting, and the carefully rehearsed speech he’d prepared had completely fallen apart when he saw your smile. Somehow, though, despite his stumbling words and flushed cheeks, you’d said yes.

He was convinced his heart had exploded when he heard your response. But there was just one problem.

He still hadn’t told May.

Peter wasn’t actively trying to hide it from her—well, not exactly. He just hadn’t found the right time to bring up the fact that he has a girlfriend. May was great, but he could already imagine the look of teasing glee on her face once she found out, and that thought alone made his stomach twist into knots. So, for now, sneaking around felt… easier. Plus, it wasn’t like he was lying. Well, not much. May thought he was out on patrol today, but instead, he was spending the afternoon with you.

Meanwhile, May was blissfully unaware of Peter’s real plans for the day. She was lounging at home, sipping coffee, when she decided she might as well tidy up his room. After all, Peter was always too busy with school, work, and Spider-Man duties to keep up with it himself. Humming to herself, she stepped into his messy room.

“That boy never cleans,” May muttered under her breath, shaking her head as she picked up discarded clothes from the floor and tossed them into a laundry basket.

As she straightened his bed, something caught her eye—something dark and out of place, sticking out of his closet. Frowning, she walked over to investigate, pulling the item free from the shelf.

A black lacy bra.

May blinked. “What the…?” She stared at it in confusion, her mind racing. When did Peter start collecting bras? No, that can’t be it. Does Peter have a girlfriend? She squinted at the bra, trying to piece things together.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, but as she processed it further, her eyes darted toward Peter’s nightstand. A sudden memory surfaced—the box of condoms she’d given Peter on his sixteenth birthday. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she pulled the drawer open, her stomach in knots.

There it was.

The box, which had once been full, now contained only two condoms. May stood there, staring down at it in disbelief.

“Oh boy…” she muttered to herself, exhaling sharply. She didn’t know whether to be angry that Peter hadn’t told her or relieved that at least he was being safe. Either way, her emotions swirled between concern and amusement. He’s really growing up, she thought, but her protective instincts kicking in.

May sat down on the edge of Peter’s bed, running a hand through her hair. “We’re going to need to have a talk,” she whispered to herself, trying to think of how to approach the conversation. She didn’t want to embarrass him more than necessary, but she also couldn’t ignore this.

Just as she was about to step out of the room, she heard the front door creak open. Voices, low and hushed, floated through the hallway.

Peter and you stumbled inside, locked in a heated kiss. Peter’s hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as you giggled into his lips. You barely broke away long enough to whisper, “You sure May isn’t home?”

“She’s at FEAST, don’t worry,” Peter reassured you, his voice rough and breathless as his lips moved down to your neck.

You chuckled, running your fingers through his curls. “Good, because I’ve been waiting all day for this…”

Suddenly, a voice boomed through the house, cutting through the heat of the moment like a knife. “PETER BENJAMIN PARKER!”

Both of you froze in place, your lips barely an inch apart. Peter’s eyes widened in horror as he recognized the voice.

“May,” he whispered, his blood running cold. You quickly pulled away, your face flushed with embarrassment.

May stood at the doorway to Peter’s room, her hands on her hips, her expression a mix of fury and disbelief. The bra dangled from her hand like a smoking gun.

Peter gulped. “I-I can explain.”

May raised an eyebrow, stepping into the room. “Oh, I’m sure you can,” she said, her voice dangerously calm. “But first, care to explain this?” She held up the bra, her gaze shifting between you and Peter.

You winced, your cheeks turning bright red as you avoided eye contact. Peter, however, was already spiraling into full-blown panic mode.

“Okay, okay, listen, May! It’s not—it’s not what you think!” Peter stammered, holding his hands up defensively. “We didn’t… I mean, it’s not like… we just…”

May crossed her arms, tapping her foot impatiently. “Oh really? So you’re telling me this bra just magically appeared in your closet? Why didn't you tell me?”

Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I… I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make things awkward. Y/n and I have been dating for five months, but—”

“Five months?” May interrupted, her eyes widening. “Five months, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

You finally found the courage to speak up. “It’s not Peter’s fault, May. We just… wanted to keep things low-key.”

May’s expression softened, but only slightly. “Low-key doesn’t mean sneaking around behind my back.” She sighed, rubbing her temples. “And don’t think I didn’t notice this either.” She motioned to the condom box.

Peter groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh God, this is the worst day of my life.”

May shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite her frustration. “It’s not the worst, Peter. Trust me, I’ve seen worse. But we’re going to have a conversation about this.”

Peter’s head shot up, his face paling. “Oh no, not the talk. May, I’m almost seventeen, please—”

“Exactly, you’re almost seventeen, and that’s why you need this talk.” May’s tone was firm but caring. She turned to you with a sigh.

You shifted awkwardly on your feet, glancing toward the door, clearly wanting to flee. But before you could make your escape, May held up a hand, stopping you in your tracks.

“Y/n, stay,” May said firmly, though her voice softened a little. “You’re a part of this too, and I need to make sure you’re okay as well.” She glanced between you and Peter, concern etched on her face.

Peter shot you a helpless look, his eyes wide and pleading. You swallowed nervously and nodded, stepping back to Peter’s side, feeling the heat rush to your face.

May took a deep breath, pulling out the desk chair and sitting down. “Alright. First of all, Peter, you should’ve told me about you two. I’m not mad you’re dating Y/n. What I’m mad about is the sneaking around.”

Peter winced. “I know, I should’ve… I just didn’t know how to bring it up, and I thought… I thought it might make things weird.”

May shook her head. “Peter, I’m your aunt, not your enemy. I’m not here to make things difficult for you. But sneaking around, lying about where you’re going… I’m not okay with that.”

Peter hung his head. “I’m sorry, May. I didn’t mean to—”

“I’m not done,” May interrupted, raising a hand. She then turned to you, her expression softening. “And Y/n, I hope you understand that you’re important to Peter—and that means you’re important to me, too. I’m not mad at you either, but I do need to talk to both of you about… boundaries.”

You felt your face go hot again, but you nodded. “I understand. I just didn’t want to make things awkward with you.”

May gave you a small, understanding smile. “I appreciate that, but what I really care about is that both of you are being responsible. I see you found a way to use those condoms I gave Peter.”

Peter made a noise somewhere between a groan and a whimper, covering his face with both hands. “May, please, no,” he muttered, absolutely mortified.

May ignored his protest and pressed on. “Look, I get it—you’re teenagers, you’re curious, and you have feelings for each other. But I need to know that you’re both being careful and not rushing into anything you’re not ready for.”

Peter peeked through his fingers, his face still flushed. “We’re being careful. I swear.” He shot a glance at you, making sure you were okay with what he was saying.

You nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we are. We didn’t… it’s not like we’re rushing into anything. We’ve just been… taking our time.”

May looked between the two of you, nodding slowly. “Okay. That’s good to hear. But just so we’re clear, I’m always here if you have questions or concerns. I’d rather you talk to me about things than hide them.”

Peter dropped his hands to his sides, his shoulders sagging in relief. “Okay. We get it, May. No more secrets.”

May’s expression softened further as she stood and approached the two of you. “Good. I trust you, Peter. And you, Y/n.” She gave you a gentle pat on the arm before turning to Peter, raising an eyebrow. “But if I ever find something like this again without knowing what’s going on…” She held up the bra, waving it slightly. “…we’re having another talk. And it won’t be as nice.”

Peter winced, his face burning with embarrassment. “Got it. Loud and clear.”

May sighed and placed the bra back into your hands. “Here, you should take this with you, Y/n. I don’t think Peter needs to be holding onto it any longer.”

You let out a nervous laugh, grabbing it and stuffing it into your bag as fast as you could. “Thanks, May. I’ll… uh, make sure it doesn’t end up here again.”

Peter groaned, rubbing his face. “Please, can we stop talking about the bra now?”

May chuckled, shaking her head. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop torturing you.”

Just then, the sound of May’s phone buzzing broke the tension. She pulled it from her pocket and glanced at the screen. “Looks like I’ve got to head back to FEAST. They need me for something.” She looked back at the two of you, her tone softening. “Just… think about what I said, okay? Be smart. Be responsible.”

Peter nodded quickly, clearly eager for this conversation to be over. “We will, May. Thanks.”

With one last look at you both, May gave a nod and headed toward the door. “I’ll be back later tonight. Don’t get into any more trouble while I’m gone.”

As the door closed behind her, Peter let out a long breath, slumping down on his bed in defeat. “Oh my God,” he groaned, staring up at the ceiling. “That was the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You giggled softly, sitting down beside him and nudging his shoulder. “Well… at least she wasn’t that mad.”

Peter looked at you, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Yeah, I guess. But seriously, how am I ever going to look her in the eye again?”

You laughed and leaned over, kissing him gently on the cheek. “You’ll survive. Besides, now that she knows, we don’t have to sneak around anymore.”

Peter’s eyes lit up at the thought, a mischievous grin forming on his face. “That’s true. We could… take advantage of that.”

You raised an eyebrow, playfully nudging him again. “Oh really? After that talk we just had?”

Peter chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. “Well, maybe not right after,” he teased, pressing his forehead against yours.

You laughed, resting your head against his chest as you both lay back on the bed. For a moment, everything was peaceful, the tension from earlier melting away. Peter stroked your hair gently, his breath steady and calm.

“Thanks for staying,” he murmured, his voice soft.

You smiled, your hand resting on his chest as you looked up at him. “Of course. We’re in this together.”

Peter pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “Yeah. Together.”

“Oh no,” Peter muttered, his face paling.

You blinked, sitting up beside him. “What? What’s wrong?”

Peter groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Did she take the condoms?”

You raised an eyebrow, confused. “Why?”

Peter bit his lip nervously and looked at you, cheeks flushing. “She’s out… so, maybe we could c-continue what we planned.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. “Peter…”

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

[thehighladywrites]

ACOTAR men x reader, meeting your parents

𐙚 summary: the acotar men meet ur parents for the first time, how will it go?

𐙚 warnings: crack, fluff

𐙚 amara’s note: thank u sm for the req anon!!💗 i need cassian so bad i’m not joking 🙁 | based on this req

Rhysand

okay so in my mind there are two ways this could go

either ur parents are scared shitless bc of him or they absolutely adore him

They’re real scared if your parents live in the Hewn City and have only seen Rhysand’s bad side, you know, when he was with Amarantha and just seemed like a real jerk overall

The part where they adore him would come into play if your parents lived in Velaris and witnessed Rhysand's true self, not the facade he presents to his court, but the genuine person behind the mask

I think he would act very nonchalant and act like its a casual thing meeting your parents but he is shitting himself behind the facades

He's just really eager for your parents to like him, so he ends up accidentally over-complimenting your mom, which might make your dad a bit irked.

“Mrs. L/N, your beauty is as radiant as the stars. And your cooking is absolutely divine,” he has a hand on his heart, his famous smirk playing on his lips

“Aw, thank you so very much Rhysand, how very kind of you. I’m glad you like it!” your mom beams at him sweetly

“Alright, Rhysand, let's not get carried away,” your dad mutters, staring daggers at rhys as he gets drags your moms chair closer to him

After a while they grow to love him and your father’s distaste for him lessens

Azriel

it’s kind like rhysand’s situation, your parents score is based on how much they know about him

okay, so if ur parents know he’s the scary night court torturer and spymaster who does dangerous things for his work, he might not be very well liked. not only that but they would be genuinely worried and very scared

but if they only know he works for the high lord, i believe the chance of liking him is big

I think azriel’s calm aura when he’s with you makes him very likeable and trustworthy

Your parents see how much he cares for you, the little things he does for you and they approve

they see the small things he does, like this vid right here

Azriel is actually so fucking nervous, he stalks your parents before meeting them. He knows what your dad likes and he knows what your mom likes. Azriel brings their interests up casually in conversations and see how their faces light up

of course you know about all of this but you let him think he’s slick

Eris

Just like rhys and az, it depends on how much they know ab him.

If this is pre berons death eris, they will probably not like him bc of the way he presents himself

I still think Eris is charming and will win over your parents

He’s an expert on charming people and he uses it when he meets ur parents

he is very respectful, tho not very talkative. He speaks when spoken to basically

He gets very nervous when he is asked questions about your relationship bc if there’s one thing he loves it’s privacy

Eris is super vague, i’m talking one word answer for everything

“So how did you meet?”

“at a meeting.”

“Okay! so whats the story?”

“we fell in love.”

Absolutely melts when ur parents decide to like him bc he has never had any parental figure like him that much except for his mom and he is very happy on the inside when ur parents love him

literally thinks of ur parents as his after a while

Lucien

He is extremely well liked, like right off the bat, they love him

We all now he is prythian’s most charming male

is the type to say “wow i see where my girl gets her beauty from” to your mom and “you raised her well, she is very smart” to your dad

I swear he will flirt with anyone. your brother, your sister, your mom, your dad

he brings gift baskets whenever u visit them and it’s always personalized gifts too

your younger siblings always greet him before you bc they think he’s wayyyyy cooler than u

he just basks in the attention bc slowly ur family basically adopts him and he becomes part of the family very quickly they all love him

Goes on walks with your parents, bakes with them, talks to them, literally becomes their fav in a heartbeat making u a lil jelly

This is SO him and ur mom LINK

Cassian

awww😭 bless his heart he is so awkward

he is so adamant about being liked, he goes all out

i’m talking gets a suit, shaves and gels his hair back even though you say it’s really not that deep

sweating bullets, wings drooping a tiiiiiny amount. not noticeable to anyone but himself

anyway

cassian knocks on the door w flowers for ur mom and his hands are literally sweating

absolutely doesn’t let you touch him in a romantic way. he literally swats of your hand on his bicep, “bae, we can’t do that right here, are you crazy??” he says in ur mind, looking around to see of anyone saw that super scandalous touch

at the dinner table he almost knocks over a glass and drops a fork on the floor

his tie is too tight and he carefully tugs on it for air until you decide it’s too much and take him to your childhood bedroom

“Cas, are you okay? They love you so much, there is really no need to be this nervous.”

“Are you sure they like me? Be honest.”

“Baby, I promise you, if they didn’t, you would know. Now get rid of this tie, pop a button and relax, let me get you a drink.”

After you kiss him and get him a drink, he calms down and goes back to his normal non nervous, lovely self

🏷️: @amara-moonlight @rowaelinsdaughter @redbleedingrose @artists-ally @thelov3lybookworm @clairebear08 @riddlesb1tch @cupidojenphrodite @readychilledwine @berryzxx @fell-in-luvs

[wosola]

French kisses .1 - Lucy Bronze x French!Reader

Hey everyone! I’m J. I used to write fanfiction on Wattpad for another fandom, but for a while now, I’ve mostly just been reading. Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time on AO3, where I started reading WoSo fanfics and fell into @bruhnze’s incredible works. After reading everything she’d published, I found her on Tumblr.

Recently, @bruhnze announced she was taking a break from writing. We connected, and I had the absolute honor of reading through her WIPs. One of them really inspired me, so I asked if I could finish it—and she said yes!

Originally planned as a single fic, this story grew into a 3-parter as I worked on it 🫣😅 Long story short: WIP by @bruhnze, finished by me, and proofread by her.

Summary: This is during Lucy Bronze’s time playing for Lyon, she's just gotten into a relationship with R, a 22-year-old student. For R it is the first time sleeping with someone. Based on this request, from the☀️anon over on @bruhnze.

Warnings: This is an 18+ fanfic with explicit content, so minors do not interact.

You had grown up in Lyon, lived there all your life. It had never been particularly eventful—your life was great, really. You loved your studies, had a close-knit group of friends, and there wasn’t much more to it.

The only thing that seemed to be missing, or at least it was something that was out of sync with your friends, was your love life. At 22, you had never really had one. While everyone around you seemed to be hooking up left, right and center, it never quite worked out that way for you. Not that you didn’t want to; you did.

It was just that you had never met anyone who stirred something in you in your everyday life. Sure, you’d kissed people now and then, but whenever things started to go further, you found yourself pulling back.

As time passed, being a virgin at your big age started to feel a bit strange. You were well past the point where a one-night stand felt like the right way to lose your virginity. Maybe it was because you didn’t know how to navigate all of that, or maybe you were worried that whoever you were with wouldn’t expect it and you’d feel awkward.

But in the blessed year 2017, as fate would have it, everything changed when you met a cute English girl in the local supermarché.

She had been struggling to find something on the shelves, her expression a mix of confusion and determination, when you decided to offer her a hand. The girl, who introduced herself as Lucy, explained in broken French that she had just moved to Lyon.

You helped her find what she was looking for, and as a thank you, Lucy asked for your number. You laughed and teased her, asking what she planned to do with it.

She had grinned, the corners of her eyes crinkling, and in her charmingly imperfect French, she replied, "the least I can do is buy the pretty girl who helped me a dinner." That made you laugh harder, and when you joked about her not knowing any good restaurants yet, she just shrugged and said, "then you can decide where we go."

She had this boldness that was as charming as it was disarming—and, okay, maybe her being absurdly good-looking didn’t hurt in swaying your answer either. It was a yes without doubt, however towards Lucy you stayed a bit more unfazed.

That was a few months ago. Now, Lucy was much more comfortable with her French, picking it up quicker than you’d expected.

And not only was the woman smart, she was also incredibly athletic, which you'd noticed from the start. But on your fifth date, when you two had gone swimming, you couldn’t help but be floored by how fit she really was.

It wasn’t just her body, though—Lucy was thoughtful, kind, funny and so much more. You saw that side of her when she came with you to visit your grandpa in the hospital, bringing him a Lyon shirt signed by a player as a gift. You almost cried, you’d only mentioned that your grandpa was a life long fan of the club and here she was, gifting a signed shirt to him?!

That’s how you found out she was a footballer. Lucy had handed the signed jersey to your grandfather, grinning with that mischievous spark in her eye. “Hope you don’t mind it’s from a pretty new signing,” she’d teased. Then, with a playful glint, she added, “But I’ve heard she’s world-class. Do you know any players from Olympique Lyonnais Féminin? I can get another autograph if this one doesn’t impress you.”

Without skipping a beat, your grandfather, his face lighting up, assured her he did, mentioning that he always tried to catch matches, even if he mostly had to listen rather than watch due to his eyesight. “This is number 22, Bronze. She’s a great defender,” he said with pride. “I was thrilled when they signed her. Do you know her from England, or how did you manage to get this autograph?”

Your jaw nearly dropped as you glanced over at Lucy, who was barely holding back a smile.

“Yeah, you could say I’m close with her. Some say we’re practically twins,” she joked before reaching out to shake his hand. “But actually, I am Lucy Bronze. Nice to meet you, sir.”

Your grandfather’s laughter was as genuine as you’d heard in ages, his disbelief quickly turning into a delighted grin. It was as if he couldn’t believe his luck.

“I won’t let you down,” she told him, her voice softer, promising. “We’ll bring home the Champions League for Lyon.”

-

You’d been dating for three months now, and things were going great. Lucy had met your friends, and they adored her. You told her early on that you wanted to take things slow, and she had been nothing but understanding. She didn’t want to rush things either, but she wasn’t afraid to show you how much she liked you. Everything felt so natural with her, as if it was meant to be.

There was a dinner planned with your parents this Sunday, tomorrow she had a match, but today was one of her rest days after a Champions League game.

After a relaxed afternoon strolling around the city, shopping for a birthday gift for a friend, Lucy insisted on stopping by the supermarket. She wanted to cook at home, saying she wanted a romantic night with you. You agreed, and soon, you were back at your apartment, where you spent more time kissing than actually cooking.

It had been happening more and more recently—lingering touches, playful kisses that turned into longer, deeper ones. Every time, though, it stopped before it could go too far. Sometimes it felt natural, like you both were happy to just be together, but other times it felt more abrupt, leaving your heart racing. You wanted her, of course—how could you not?—but there was still that one thing you hadn’t told her yet, and it held you back.

Lucy had noticed. She’d asked a few times, worried that you might’ve had bad experiences in the past, but you assured her that wasn’t the case. You just wanted to take your time, and she had been so patient with you, always respecting your boundaries. Sometimes recently, it was even Lucy who would pull back, smiling at you sweetly, her eyes filled with desire but also understanding.

You loved her. You wanted to share everything with her, every part of yourself.

Twice now, she had stayed the night at your place. She had offered to sleep in separate beds, but you had waved that away, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep cuddled up next to her.

And now, after watching her play last night and lying awake, tossing and turning, you had decided that you were ready to tell her what had been holding you back.

You wanted, ached, to explore this part of your relationship, and tonight, with the romantic dinner she planned, felt like the perfect moment.

Now you were here, a lovely dinner behind your belt.. fidgeting with your wine glass, noticing that strangely enough, Lucy seemed a bit nervous too.

You both spoke up at the same time.

“Y/N—” “Luce—”

Breathy laughter filled the air, easing some of the tension you both seemed to be holding. “You go,” you said in unison again, which only made you laugh harder.

You gently took her hands in yours. “No, you go, baby.”

“Baby..,” Lucy repeated slowly, as if she was rolling the word around in her mouth, trying to make up if she liked the taste of it, her eyes searching your face.

Your heart skipped a beat. Shit. Did she not like that? You had been using the term more and more recently, thinking you were both building toward something more, maybe even thinking of her as your girlfriend already. Panic crept in until Lucy's voice broke through your spiraling thoughts.

“I thought,” she began, tightening her grip on your hands, “that it was about time… that I asked you to be my girlfriend.” Her words tumbled out quickly, like she was nervous. “I know you want to take things really slow,” she added, rambling a little, “but I just really, really, really like you. More than that even.” She let out a breathy laugh, glancing away for a second, before her gaze settled back on yours. “But I won’t scare you with that just yet. What I’m trying to say is... I want to call you my girlfriend. So, um… if you—”

“Oui!” you cut her off, the word bursting from you with so much enthusiasm that it took you both by surprise. You felt your face flush with heat as you quickly added, “Uh, yes, Lucy, I love you too—” You stopped mid-sentence, blushing furiously. “I-I mean, I’d love to be your girlfriend,” you corrected, your voice softer but no less sincere.

Lucy’s smile stretched from ear to ear as she stood up from her seat, and you rose to meet her. The moment felt so perfect, so right.

She kissed you, a kiss filled with warmth and love, and you returned it with all the affection you’d been building up for this woman for months now. God, you were in love.

After a few long moments, you pulled back, your heart pounding. You knew you still had to tell her the other thing. But Lucy was looking at you with such softness in her eyes, her face lit with joy. You couldn’t help but brush your thumbs along her cheeks, feeling the heat of her skin under your touch.

“Love me huh?” Lucy teased at your little slip of the tongue earlier, her voice low and playful.

You chuckled, your nerves easing slightly. “Yes, I love you, Luce, je t'aime” you admitted, voicing the words felt like lifting a weight off your chest.

“Hmmm…” Lucy hummed, her grin widening as she buried her face in the crook of your neck. “That makes me really happy. I love you too,” she whispered, her breath warm against your skin.

Before you knew it, Lucy’s hands had moved to cup your ass, lifting you up effortlessly. You squealed in surprise, even though she had done this before—it caught you off guard. Maybe because you still had to tell that other thing. But you couldn’t help but laugh as she carried you over to the couch, sitting down with you perched on her lap.

Both of you dissolved into giggles as you peppered each other’s faces with kisses, one after another. “I am so in love with you,” you murmured between kisses, your forehead resting gently against hers as you gazed into her eyes.

Lucy laughed, her nose brushing against yours. “It’s funny that we both wanted to tell each other that tonight,” she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Your cheeks flushed again, this time not just from the affection but from what you knew you had to say next. “I… I also…” you stammered, trying to find the right words. Lucy tilted her head, a curious smile tugging at her lips as she waited patiently.

“I also wanted.. uh no.. needed.. to tell you something else,” you finally managed, your voice a little shaky.

“Oh?” Lucy’s eyebrows lifted slightly, her expression soft. “Is it… a good thing?”

You bit your lip, unsure. “I’d…uh.. I’d say it’s more of a neutral thing?” you said, trying to ease into it.

Lucy smiled, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze as she leaned back against the couch. “Okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that, right?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yes, I know. It’s just… hard for me to say, I guess.” You could feel your nerves bubbling up again. “I’m sorry for keeping it from you, but I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

Lucy’s gaze was steady, encouraging. “Hey, there’s nothing to apologize for,” she said softly. “Take your time.”

“I… I have never…” You struggled to find the right words, but they just wouldn’t come. “I mean, I know how everything works, of course, but I’ve just… never actually… done it.” The words tumbled out awkwardly, and you quickly looked down, embarrassed.

Lucy was quiet for a long moment, so long that you finally forced yourself to glance up at her. To your surprise, her expression hadn’t changed—she was still looking at you with warmth and understanding.

“Hey,” she whispered, her thumb brushing over your lower lip, gently freeing it from between your teeth where you’d been nervously biting it. “Thank you for telling me.”

You groaned, your forehead dropping against her collarbone. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and relief.

Lucy chuckled softly, her hand smoothing over your back. “Sorry for what? Like you said, it’s a neutral thing. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” She tilted your chin up so you could meet her eyes again. “I’m just happy you told me. Now I understand why we always stopped when we did.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and smiled shyly. Lucy’s hands found their way to your cheeks again, cupping your face with such tenderness that you couldn’t help but feel safe.

The two of you stared at each other, the weight of the moment sinking in before both of you burst into soft, breathy giggles, the tension dissolving.

You both had ended up lying down on the couch, nestled against each other in a comfortable silence. Lucy’s arm was around your waist, your head resting on her chest as you listened to the steady rhythm of her breathing. The warmth of her body and the way her fingers absentmindedly traced small circles on your arm made you feel calm, safe.

It must have been at least half an hour before you finally worked up the courage to speak.

“So… how do you, uh, want to do things?” you asked, your voice soft, almost hesitant.

Lucy tilted her head slightly, meeting your gaze with a curious look. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” she responded, her voice gentle, as if she were afraid of pressuring you. “I mean… I want to do whatever you want, however you want, and when you want it.”

Her words made you smile, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. She was always so thoughtful, so patient. But the truth was, you had been thinking about this for a while now. You swallowed hard, trying to push past the embarrassment rising in your chest. “I feel like I’m ready,” you began, but the words felt heavy in your throat.

Lucy’s expression softened even more, her hand rubbing soothingly along your back, waiting for you to continue.

“That’s… I…” Your face flushed bright red as you tried to find the right words. You couldn’t tell her just how ready you were without blushing even harder.

The truth was, ever since you and Lucy had started dating, you had never felt this kind of desire before. In the past few weeks, your own body had been betraying you, and the thought of Lucy, had been invading your mind, especially when you were alone. You had never been so… wanting. It was like something in you had awakened. It wasn’t just the emotional connection—you physically craved her.

“Uhm… it’s been hard,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, “not going further than kissing with you.” Your cheeks burned even more as you confessed, “But I felt like I needed to tell you this first before we went further… it was hard for me to confess.. I feel a bit.. uhm.. behind?”

Lucy’s thumb gently stroked your cheek, silently urging you to continue, her face calm and open.

“I’ve been thinking about… you,” you admitted, your voice faltering slightly. The vulnerability of the statement hung between you, the air thick with it. “A lot.”

Lucy’s lips curved into a small, tender smile as she listened. She didn’t laugh or tease you like you might’ve feared. Instead, she looked at you with a warmth that made your heart flutter in your chest.

“I’ve been thinking about you too,” she said quietly, her voice sincere. “But I didn’t want to push you, and I didn’t want to rush into anything until you felt ready. I wanted to respect your boundaries and I am really happy you told me this before we went further, and you’re not behind at all by the way, everyone does things at their own pace.”

You nodded, appreciating her patience but feeling the need for honesty. “But really I… I’ve been more than ready,” you repeated, the words rushing out now that you had started. “It’s been hard for me to hold back. I didn’t want you to think that I didn’t want to… you know, go further with you. I’ve just never… done it before.” You didn’t know why you were repeating yourself, maybe to bring over to Lucy how much you meant it.

Lucy nodded, her hand moving to intertwine with yours. “I get it,” she said softly. “I’m really glad you told me. I want you to feel comfortable with whatever we do, and I don’t want you to feel like there’s any pressure.” She paused for a moment, searching your face. “But when you’re ready, whenever that is, I’m here. We’ll take it slow, together.”

You smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. “Thank you,” you whispered, resting your forehead against hers.

Lucy sighed contentedly as she lay beneath you on the couch, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm. After a moment, she cleared her throat, breaking the comfortable silence.

“So, um… your parents,” she started, her voice tentative. “Sunday dinner, huh? What’s that going to be like?”

You blinked, a little caught off guard by the shift in conversation. “What about it?” you asked, propping yourself up slightly to look at her.

Lucy gave a small, nervous laugh. “I don’t know, like… have you told them anything about me? Do they know we’re dating, or is this going to be a complete surprise?” She bit her lip, clearly a little anxious. “I just want to make sure I don’t mess this up.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “Why are you thinking about that right now?” you asked, your tone playful as you began trailing soft kisses along her neck, nuzzling into the warmth of her skin.

Lucy let out a breathy laugh, though her body tensed slightly under your touch. “I—uh… I just don’t want to screw it up. Are you sure you really want to do this right now?” she asked, her voice hesitant.

She turned her head to look at you, concern flickering in her eyes. “I don’t want to rush you, y/n.”

You giggled against her neck, pressing a kiss just below her ear. “Three months isn’t enough of a wait for you?” you teased, a smile tugging at your lips.

Lucy chuckled, her body relaxing slightly as she looked up at you, her nerves fading a little. “Okay… so the dams have really broken now, haven’t they?” She raised her eyebrows, amused.

“Well, now that I’ve told you, and you didn’t get scared away... I have to admit, I’m kind of excited. I mean…” you grinned sheepishly. “I find you really attractive.”

She smiled as you moved your hand under her shirt, your fingertips brushing against her warm skin, you whispered, “I’m in love with you, Luce. I want to share that part of myself with you, too. And you know…” You paused, leaning down to kiss her collarbone. “Je sais à quel point tu es bon au football, alors je ne peux qu’imaginer que tes talents athlétiques s’étendent au-delà de ce jeu…’’ You whispered.  

Lucy giggled, swatting at you playfully. “Oh, you’re cheeky,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. But she glanced up at the ceiling with a grin and added, “Are you sure you’ve got no experience at all? It feels like I’m more out of it than you are right now.”

You sat up a little, shifting so that you were straddling her hips, your hands resting lightly on her stomach. You raised an eyebrow, curious. “Oh?” you asked, smirking slightly. “Has it been long for you?”

Lucy bit her lip, her gaze dropping for a moment before she admitted, “Maybe… half a year? I don’t know.”

“Versus 22 years,” you teased, rolling your eyes giggling. “I think I win.”

Lucy grinned, sitting up to face you, her hands resting on your waist. “Mmm, no. I think I win.” She leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with affection. “I’ve got the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life sitting on my lap right now.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm, your heart swelled in your chest. But instead of letting yourself get lost in the emotion, you smirked, leaning in close until your lips hovered just inches from hers. “Mmm, really?” you teased softly. “Tell me more…”

Lucy’s expression turned serious, though her eyes were still playful. “I mean it, y/n. Now that I know how much this means to you, I want it to be special… really special. I always wanted that for us, but now it feels even more important.”

You rolled your eyes in playful disbelief, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Mon chéri,” you whispered, brushing a kiss over her cheek, “we just had the most romantic dinner, confessed our love—I'd say that’s pretty perfect already, wouldn’t you? Besides, it’s already special because it’s with you, my love, you are the only person I could think of doing this with.”

Lucy’s smile deepened, and she reached up to brush her thumb along your cheek. “Perfect, sure,” she mused. “But… candles, flowers, fresh sheets…” She bit her lip, ‘’in my head I was going all out for you, I am not even wearing my good underwear, amour.’’

You chuckled, thinking of your preparations for today. ‘’I am.’’

You watched her pupils dilate, her eyes widening in surprise, and she swallowed hard, clearly taken aback. “Oh,” she said in a breathy tone, as if she had just forgotten how to speak.

You chuckled, watching her shift, almost flustered. “Are you getting shy, Luce?”

“No! It’s just that… I don’t know,” she stammered, running a hand through her hair, clearly struggling to keep her composure. “I really want to keep things slow, to be respectful and everything, but when you say things like that…” She scratched her neck, her voice barely a whisper, “it’s… hard to...”

“Hard to what?” you asked, delighted to see her cheeks flush, a sight you didn’t often get to see from her.

Lucy groaned, leaning back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s hard for me not to think about… taking things a little faster than planned.” Her voice came out all at once, as if she’d been holding it back.

You leaned in, your lips just grazing hers. “Well, what’s wrong with those thoughts, then?” you asked, teasingly brushing your fingers along her neck.

She exhaled softly, biting her lip as she hesitated. “Let’s… wait until after I’ve met your parents,” she finally managed, pulling back slightly, though it was clear that it took effort.

Your smile faltered, confusion and a hint of disappointment washing over you. “Oh… I thought…” You shifted off her, sitting up and moving to your own spot on the couch, feeling uncertain.

Lucy’s hand instinctively reached for yours, her expression tinged with a hint of panic. “No, no—y/n, it’s not that I don’t want to! I do, more than you know.” She looked down, as if gathering her thoughts. “I just thought, well, when you mentioned meeting your parents on Sunday, I figured it was important to you to wait until after that step.” She paused, glancing up at you with earnest eyes. “I actually had… this plan in my head for next week. Thursday, to be exact.”

You blinked, intrigued and slightly amused by her meticulousness. “You have… a plan?”

“Yeah,” she said, scratching her neck in that adorable way that always made you smile. “I even talked to your housemate to make sure she’d be out for the night. I thought, you know, after we’re official and all…” She laughed softly, glancing down shyly. “I was going to surprise you with candles, flowers, everything. It’d be in your own bed, so you’d be comfortable.” She pressed a hand to her chest, her cheeks flushed. “I didn’t want to pressure you, of course, but I wanted it to be right for you—like, um… create a perfect moment for us.”

Your heart melted as you listened, and you could hardly contain the adoration shining in your eyes. Here was this amazing, thoughtful woman who loved you so deeply, wanting everything to be perfect.

“Luce, you’re�� adorable,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss her, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude for such an incredible girlfriend.

You could feel the heat and intensity building between you, like two magnets drawn together. Your mouths met in a deep, fervent kiss, a silent conversation of everything you hadn’t said and all the things you were both holding back. It was a kiss full of promises, anticipation crackling in the air around you.

As the kiss deepened, Lucy’s hand slipped to your waist, and you let yourself sink into her warmth, into her presence.

After a moment, you pulled back just slightly, a small smirk crossing your face. “Are we sure we want to wait until next week?” you whispered, your voice low. “Today is a Thursday too.”

She took a deep breath, nervous laughter lighting up the room. “Well, I don’t know if I want that, but I think it would be best, so yes, I think I want that.”

“Thursday can’t come soon enough,” you groaned.

You both laughed, the intensity giving way to a moment of lightheartedness as you laid together, feeling secure, knowing that when the time was right, it would be everything you both had been waiting for.

After a while Lucy scooped you up into her arms effortlessly, grinning as you let out a surprised laugh. She headed toward the bedroom, ignoring your glance back at the kitchen.

“We really should clean up first,” you protested lightly, glancing over her shoulder at the table still set with empty plates and a bottle of wine.

Lucy shook her head, a smirk playing on her lips. “Nope,” she said, nudging the bedroom door open with her hip. “Tonight we can cuddle, tomorrow we’ll worry about that again.”

Once in the bedroom, Lucy set you down at the edge of the bed.

You felt your cheeks warm as you began to undress, carefully slipping out of your top, suddenly hyperaware of her eyes on you. You hesitated, noticing she’d turned her head away slightly, as if trying to give you privacy, even now.

“No, you can look,” you murmured softly, smiling as her gaze shifted back to you, her eyes meeting yours with such warmth that your heart fluttered. “You’re my girlfriend,” you added, the last word feeling new and sweet on your lips.

Lucy’s gaze traveled over you slowly, and you felt a blush rising to your cheeks as you slipped out of your top and bra, letting them fall softly to the floor. For the first time, her eyes settled on the bare skin of your chest, and you could see her breath catch for a moment, her lips parting as she took you in.

You felt a mix of warmth and shyness under her gaze, but her expression was so open, so purely admiring, that you felt at ease. When her gaze lifted to yours, her eyes held a soft awe that made your heart skip. “You’re beautiful,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

You smiled, feeling both vulnerable and cherished in that moment, before turning to her closet and reaching for one of her oversized shirts to slip on. As you lifted it over your head, Lucy let out a little chuckle, recovering herself, and as she undressed down to her boxers and sports bra, her cheeks were pink.

Once undressed, you both climbed into bed, buried under the comforter as you found each other in the dim light, legs tangling together. She pulled you close, and her mouth met yours again, warm and gentle.

The kiss deepened, lips moving slowly, savoring each touch, each taste. Lucy’s hand rested on the small of your back, sliding upward with a feather-light touch that sent soft tingles across your skin. You felt a pleasant, fluttering warmth in your stomach as her fingers brushed over you.

Your own hands explored her too, grazing the line of her jaw, the smooth skin of her shoulder, and then down to her waist, lingering as you took in every detail. With every kiss, your heart raced faster, your body responding to her closeness, feeling both electric and calm at once.

But just as things were growing more intense, you felt a faint pulse of nerves, next Thursday was maybe not so bad. “Wait,” you whispered, smiling softly, though your cheeks were warm. “We haven’t brushed our teeth yet.”

Lucy paused, her eyes immediately searching yours, understanding lighting up in her gaze. She brushed a gentle hand over your cheek, offering a reassuring smile. “Totally forgot,” she said softly. Her hand found yours as she guided you to the bathroom, fingers intertwined as you both stood side by side at the sink.

You shared smiles as you brushed your teeth together, Lucy’s shoulder bumping lightly against yours, and even things like this simple routine felt special in her presence.

As you finished, you turned to find her already smiling, her hand reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Back in bed, Lucy wrapped her arm around you as you nestled close, her hand resting comfortably over your hip. You let yourself settle, your head on her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart, your own hand resting on her stomach, feeling the warmth of her skin and the gentle rise and fall of her breathing.

In the quiet, with Lucy’s arm wrapped around you and her hand softly resting on you, sleep came easily, and the last thing you heard before drifting off was the sound of her breathing, steady and warm, and the quiet, whispered words she murmured just before you both faded into dreams; “Goodnight, my love.”

-

I hope you guys like this, I felt a bit rusty writing again, but I think in the future I might be writing more woso fics.

Part 2 of this will follow soon!

-J.

[blackenedsnow]

I’m not sure if this is considered an AU but could you do Shadow x fem teen reader in which the reader is the one to free shadow from his pod.

the reader is a gifted student but due to her smarts the students consider her perfect and snobby, which doesn’t make better with her parents divorce.

One day, the reader takes a stroll though the woods but gets lost as she goes deeper. however she stumbles upon a pod and hesitantly checks it out but she accidentally activates it which awakens Shadow. the reader gets frightened and runs away but Shadow chases after her and tries to reassure her that he won’t hurt her but keeps on running till she hits a dead end. the reader is unsure if she should defend herself or wait for a opening to make a break for it but Shadow manages to calm her down and he introduces himself, which the reader hesitantly introduces herself back. Shadow then thanks her for freeing him, which the reader says she didn’t too, only for him to bicker about it before continuing that for freeing him, he vows to protect and be a companion to the reader [ real reason is because she’s reminds him of Maria ] the readers gets a little freaked out and decides to make a break for it but Shadow stops her and tells her that with him around, she will be kept safe and wouldn’t be lonely. the reader thinks over and decides to trust him. over time, shadow and the reader slowly form a friendship and learn about each other and realize they have more things in common, as well as keeping him a secret from everyone else.

[[ platonic with angst please ]]

lost and found

WARNING: Themes of isolation, parental divorce, angst, and mild emotional distress.

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog & (Fem) Teen! Reader

NOTE: Hey there! Thank you so much for sending in this request! I had such a fun time writing this, and I hope it turned out exactly how you envisioned.

SUMMARY: On a quiet day in the woods, you're struggling with your parents’ divorce and school bullying. You stumble upon a strange pod and accidentally free the ultimate lifeform.

The woods were the only place you found comfort these days, away from the incessant noise of your school life, your parents’ fighting, and the weight of being the so-called “perfect” student. The other kids saw you as unapproachable, a snob who thought she was better than everyone else just because you got the grades they couldn’t. But that wasn’t true at all. They didn’t see what it cost you to keep up the act—to always be “on.”

Your parents were getting divorced, and it felt like your world was splitting apart along with them. You’d overheard one too many arguments about whose fault it was, and you’d finally had enough. So you did what you usually did when things got unbearable: you left the house, your feet carrying you deep into the woods behind your neighborhood.

It was only after a while that you realized you didn’t recognize where you were anymore. The once-familiar paths twisted and turned, leaving you disoriented. A faint sense of unease crept over you, but you shook it off. Getting lost wasn’t that big of a deal. You’d find your way back eventually.

Right?

But something caught your eye—a metallic glint buried deep among the trees. Curiosity tugged at you, and before you knew it, you were heading toward it, your unease momentarily forgotten.

You stopped in your tracks when you saw it. A pod.

It looked old and weathered, like it had been hidden in the forest forever. Your heart raced as you hesitated. What the hell is this?

Unable to resist, you took a step closer, then another. The surface of the pod shimmered faintly under the filtered sunlight. There was a panel on its side, and against your better judgment, you reached out to touch it.

The moment your fingertips brushed against the panel, the pod lit up with a loud hiss, and steam erupted from its seams. You stumbled back in shock, watching wide-eyed as the metal casing slid open.

A figure slowly emerged from inside—a tall, black-and-red hedgehog, his eyes glowing an eerie crimson as he stood there, stretching like he’d just woken from a long sleep.

Fear shot through you like a bolt of lightning. You didn’t know what you had expected, but it definitely wasn’t this.

Panic set in, and before you could stop yourself, you turned on your heel and ran. Branches whipped against your skin as you tore through the forest, heart pounding in your ears.

“Wait!” a voice called after you. It was deep, commanding, and oddly… human.

You didn’t listen. You kept running, your legs burning, lungs aching, until you hit a dead end—a steep drop-off with no way down. Trapped.

Footsteps, fast and steady, approached from behind.

You spun around, pressing your back against the rock wall. The hedgehog stood a few feet away, his red eyes locked onto yours. You could feel the weight of his gaze, heavy and unreadable.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “I just want to talk.”

You didn’t trust him—not yet. “What… who are you?”

He took a step forward, and instinctively, you raised your arms in a poor attempt at self-defense, but he stopped in his tracks, raising his hands as though to show he meant no harm.

“My name is Shadow,” he said, his voice softening just a little. “You… you freed me. Why?”

“I didn’t mean to!” you blurted, feeling the tremor in your voice. “It was an accident.”

He tilted his head, considering your words. “Accident or not, you’re the reason I’m no longer trapped. For that, I owe you.”

His intense gaze suddenly shifted, softening as though he saw something in you that struck a nerve. You weren’t sure what it was, but the way he looked at you then—it was like he saw right through you, past all your walls, your fears, your struggles.

He was silent for a long moment, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. Was it recognition? Sadness? Whatever it was, it made you uncomfortable. You had never been looked at like that before.

“You remind me of someone,” he said quietly, more to himself than to you.

You didn’t know what to say. Instead, you shuffled nervously, still contemplating whether you should try and run again.

But before you could move, Shadow stepped forward, closing the distance between you. His presence was imposing, yet there was no threat in his posture, only resolve.

“I owe you my freedom,” he said firmly. “And in return, I will stay by your side.”

You blinked up at him, your mind racing. This… this was too much. You barely knew this guy—this hedgehog. And now he was vowing to stay with you? To protect you?

You weren’t sure you wanted that. Not after everything. You were used to being on your own, even if it hurt. The idea of someone—anyone—being there for you sounded almost too good to be true.

“I… I don’t need—” you began, but the words caught in your throat.

Shadow stared at you, his expression unreadable but serious. “I’ll keep you safe.”

The sincerity in his voice made your resolve falter. You didn’t know why, but something about him—his determination, his loneliness—felt familiar. You’d been lonely for so long, and now here was this strange, powerful being offering his companionship, his protection.

A small part of you wanted to believe him, to trust him. But another part of you, the part that had been hurt too many times, screamed for you to run.

You hesitated for just a moment too long, and Shadow stepped closer, his gaze softening just a little more.

“Trust me,” he said quietly.

After what felt like an eternity, you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Okay.”

And so it began.

Over time, you and Shadow formed an unlikely bond. You learned more about him—his past, his regrets, his connection to someone named Maria—and he learned about you—your loneliness, the struggles you faced at home and school. Slowly, you began to trust him, and in turn, he trusted you.

In Shadow, you found the companionship you’d been missing for so long. And in you, Shadow found someone to protect, someone who reminded him of what he had once lost.

And neither of you were alone anymore.

[fangweaver2099]

𝐅 𝐀 𝐖 𝐍 𝐓 𝐄 𝐄 𝐓 𝐇 - Prologue pt 1

MINORS DNI 18+ FIC

You’ve always liked the idea of having a dominant partner - BDSM was something you’ve read about, watched videos about.

Something you made Pinterest boards and aesthetic tumblr posts about when you were 18 and curious, the idea always sounded nice, but you’ve never done it in practice, not really. Sure you bought fuzzy handcuffs at a gag gift store once, but that didn’t really count.

You’re still a virgin.

You’ve always had that chronically awkward, workaholic type of vibe that made typical dating near impossible at worst and frustrating at best. Normal dating apps have proven fruitless and agitating. So poor curious little you talked yourself into making a fetlife account. You weren’t looking for true love, but at least you could get laid.

DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.”

College was for new experiences after all.

CW: BDSM heavy/centric fic. Safe, Sane & Consensual. Miguel is your professor, but you both don't know that. Age Gap (Y/N is 23, Miguel is mid 30's)

PART 2

DM Request from: 10:13 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Hello, Fawn.” 

You squint at the request - you can see his icon is his torso.

You knew you had to snoop - be careful. The classic teen girl not wanting to be abducted shit. His skin was tanned - pale palms and even skintone told you he wasn’t a white guy. NYC was a melting pot - so you weren’t about to think too hard about it. You scroll through his writings. Most were boring and formal. You debate reading over the ‘contract template’ he had posted but decide against it.

His pictures are, mostly, not entirely him. A few torso shots showing off dark hair and abs - or more casual showing off a normal looking body of a dude who clearly worked out. The others are a few different women in different states of undress smothered in bondage ropes, always a bright red. The one that intrigues you the most again has the face censored by a black bar, but she’s hung upside down against the wall, diamonds of rope on her thighs as she’s suspended before red rope that was weaved into a massive spider web. He was a fan of spiders - the user name made sense.

The photos were old, from 2016 at the newest. The photos of him were new - posted just 6 months ago.

His wall was what told a touch of his story. You scroll down dozens of posts, women and men acting friendly or asking to meet up again. You wonder if he used to be a community person, the anon nature of his account was new? Could you check on the wayback machine? 

You tab back into his chat.

“hey. are you really 6’9? ” - Fawnteeth - 10:19 PM

 10:19 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You think I’d lie about that?”  

“maybe. I know a lot of guys who lie about their height, I’m tall enough to tell.” - Fawnteeth - 10:20 PM

 10:20 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Smart to ask. Yes, I am really 6’9”. Is height a big seller for you?”  

“when you’re a tall woman, it is.” - Fawnteeth - 10:20 PM

 10:21 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “You want me to make you feel small. Noted.”

“what had you messaging me? you seem popular.” - Fawnteeth - 10:21 PM

 10:22 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I’ve been in the scene for a long time, made my way around. Your interests line up and you seem at least somewhat concerned about your own anonymity.”  

“here I thought you’d say you found me pretty.” - Fawnteeth - 10:22 PM

 10:22 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Shallow compliments hardly get us anywhere. Besides, that’s a given.”  

“well, thank you anyway. need to keep this and my personal life separate, like you I see.” - Fawnteeth - 10:23 PM

 10:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ “We all have our secrets and reasons to keep them.”  

“serial killer sorta secrets?” - Fawnteeth - 10:24 PM

“I’m kidding.” - Fawnteeth - 10:24 PM

 10:24 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Would you believe me if I said no?”  

“I can try. it’s not like you’re a blank profile, web.” - Fawnteeth - 10:25 PM

 10:26 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Maybe you shouldn’t. Things like that are easy to fake. You’re clearly trying to keep a secret, which means if I met up with you no one would know where you went. Would be a good tactic if  I was preying on little girls.”

You stare at his message for a moment, forcing in a quick breath you sit up as your bed creaks. Okay, time to take things a bit more seriously.

“Good thing I’m not a little girl. I do appreciate the concern, it’s attractive.” - Fawnteeth - 10:27 PM

 10:27 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Lot’s of untrustworthy people on sites like this. Ones that will lull you into a sense of security.”  

“Trust me, I’m well aware. You think I should be afraid of you?” - Fawnteeth - 10:27 PM

 10:28 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Yes. You can’t trust me right away.”

“Well, I like the honesty. I don’t think I have any plans to meet up with anyone soon - not even you.” - Fawnteeth - 10:30 PM

 10:30 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Of course you don’t. You’re new at this.”

“Did I really give it away that quickly?” - Fawnteeth - 10:31 PM

 10:31 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Yes.”

You stare at the screen for a long moment, eyes wide. How the hell do you reply to that? Is he ending the conversation? Did you already fuck things up? At this point, most men would be falling over themselves to impress you, not making you feel intimidated . You feel your core throb as you click back to his profile, scrolling over dozens of comments on his wall from years ago - the fact is, his profile spans back years. Longer. He’s experienced, and… he isn’t wrong, either. 

“Is that a problem? I hope it isn’t. You’re the first dude who hasn’t asked me for nudes yet.” - Fawnteeth - 10:32 PM

 10:34 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “No. You should be more careful though, me explaining that and this is something you should be suspicious of. Wanting to ‘protect’ you because you’re young and need to be taught the ropes, so to speak.”  

“Got it, Sir.” - Fawnteeth - 10:34 PM

“Wait, can I call you that?” - Fawnteeth - 10:34 PM

You cringe, placing the laptop on the bed for a moment. Shit - you’ve already messed up.

 10:35 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “That’s acceptable. If you ever call me ‘Daddy’ however I will block you.”  

 10:35 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “That’s not a joke.” 

You open your eyes, glancing over at the chat and his two messages. Raising a brow, you lean in, shifting the laptop back into your lap. 

“Understood. Not my thing.” - Fawnteeth - 10:35 PM

 10:36 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “What is your thing, Fawn?”

“Well… I like giving up control… Feeling like prey. I’ve always loved deer, something about being so fiercely defenseless as a fawn in a wolf’s maw is thrilling.” - Fawnteeth - 10:37 PM

 10:37 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “No wonder you brushed over the red flags.”

“Maybe.The whole giving up control is why most submissives are here, aren’t they?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:38 PM

 10:40 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “The illusion of giving up control. Any good dominant knows the submissive is the one with the power. Safe words, limits, contracts - it all relies on knowing they can end things whenever they want to explore it safely.”  

“Of course.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:40 PM

 10:40 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Of course? So you have those things ready for me?”  

“ Safe words and how I prefer them - yes. Limits, I think so. Contract - no. ” - Fawnteeth  - 10:40 PM

 10:42PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I need one for slow down/ease up and one for an immediate stop. I also need a physical sign if you are unable to say your safe words. Please list them.”  

 10:43 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Send me 4 lists: Favorites, Yes, Maybe, and No not ever. Include everything you can think of. If you do not include something that I am interested in I will ask about it and we will consider it a maybe until you’ve had time to consider it and possibly research.”

 10:43 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “You will not need a premade contract. I have a basic format we can edit to our needs. If it goes that far.”  

“Is the green, yellow, red method good with you?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

 10:44 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Yes.”

“That’s good.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

“...And I'll get you the other things - do you have any hard nos I should know of?” - Fawnteeth  - 10:44 PM

10:45 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Send me yours and we’ll go from there.”  

“Okay.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:45 PM

You take your time in a Google document, carefully considering your late-night Archive Of Our Own feed. Anxiety tells you to rush, but you get the energy that Web isn’t the kind of guy who wants you to rush.

“ Will you click links? Google Docs. ” - Fawnteeth  - 10:55 PM

 10:55 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ I applaud you if you somehow hack me from a google docs link. I have a very good firewall as a warning. ” 

You couldn’t help but grin at his reply - you’re charmed by him. Oh no.

“I’d figure as much. Here.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

“ [Google Docs Link] “ - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

 10:57 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I’ll ask specifics soon but I want to be clear about this - I want something in person, but that is not on the table until the end of the summer. I have obligations. If that is a problem I don’t want to waste your time.” 

“That’s fine. I know we’re both in NYC. I’m kinda glad as I don’t think I’m ready to meet up soon anyway.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:57 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Gives us time to get to know each other and learn expectations.

“Then it sounds like we’re on the same page.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Good. Due to this being a distance-based arrangement for the time being I cannot touch you myself; Have you heard of a lovense?”

“I have. Aren’t those expensive?”   - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Money isn’t a concern for me, and anything I get you is a gift. The only expectation is to use whatever I provide. Acceptable?”

“Yes. I don’t take pictures or videos with my face in them.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:58 PM

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I noticed.”

 10:58 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Neither do I. That isn’t a problem.” 

“Glad to hear that.” -   Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

“...So…”   - Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 10:59 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Your list says nothing about exhibitionism. If I were to tell you to wear your lovense during the day would that be acceptable?”

For a moment you stare at his message. Now that you’re not under your father’s roof, you have free reign to do whatever, and it’s honestly not like your roommates haven’t done weirder, less appropriate shit in far more public spaces. 

“That’s fine as long as I’m not visiting family. I live somewhere else.” - Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 10:59 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ You say you like roleplay. Are there specific scenarios you’re interested in?”

“Do you know what dead by daylight is?” -  Fawnteeth  - 10:59 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I can’t say I do.”

“...Well. I wasn’t joking about the idea of enjoying being hunted. I guess. Kinda embarrassing to admit to a stranger.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “Does that embarrassment excite you, Fawn?”

“Maybe.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I expect yes or no answers. If you’re not sure say so.”

“Yes, then.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:00 PM

 11:00 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Good girl. What do you want me to do when I catch you?”

There’s no hesitation, no doubt in the message. What do you want when I catch you. Not would you want, not if I caught you. When. You can’t help but squirm. For a moment, you consider pacing your tiny, cluttered bedroom.

“Is whatever you want the wrong answer?”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:01 PM

“I might be new, but I think I’m kinda open. I want to please, I suppose.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:01 PM

 11:01 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ Not at all a wrong answer.”

 11:02 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Have you ever been spanked before? You said it was a favorite.”

“Yes.” - Fawnteeth - 11:02 PM

You bite your lip - it technically isn’t a lie. You have been spanked - just… not sexually. It’s fine .

 11:02 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Would you be willing to use a paddle, crop or belt in my absence if I believe you need punishment?”

“I’m not sure. I have a very high pain tolerance, but I don’t live alone, sound is a concern.”   - Fawnteeth - 11:02 PM

 11:03 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Not a problem. Making a small list for a care package if you show me potential is all.” 

“Well, what can I do to impress you, Sir?”  - Fawnteeth  - 11:03 PM

“I don’t mind homework, for lack of a better word.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:03 PM

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Eager, aren’t you? I’m not done.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Dirty talking. What are your limits, and do you have a specific pet name you want me to use?”

“I like Fawn, obviously. Affectionate things, I think it’s better figuring it out organically. Feels more genuine.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:04 PM

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And no humiliation.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ Understood.”

 11:04 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I have rules. It’s better that I tell you about them early. They’ve scared most people off.”

“ Well. I won’t pass judgment immediately.” - Fawnteeth - 11:05 PM

“I don’t cut my hair.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:05 PM

 11:05 PM - WebRigger2099 -   “I would be disappointed if you did. Speaking of, I only allow my submissive to trim their pubic hair for one, no shaving it.” 

“That’s fine with me. I haven’t shaved anything in a while.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:05 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ If you are going to be unavailable for more than a few hours I expect an explanation so I know you are safe. I don’t allow my partners to go to clubs or bars without me either. If this becomes serious I expect you to download a location tracking app so I know where you are at all times.”

“Okay. That’s fine. I don’t go out much.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:06 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “I am not polyamorous. If you want to be mine you are only mine, and I will hold myself to the same standard.”

“That’s fine with me. I have been talking to someone else, but about as much as you at this point. Honesty and all that stuff.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:06 PM

 11:06 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I don’t let things I own go into disrepair; You will take care of yourself and report what you don’t complete. Punishments will be given if you do not complete these tasks.”

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “The basic daily requirements are the following: Three meals a day, showering every day, an hour of exercise and a consistent bedtime during weekdays.”

“Okay. Did this really scare people off?” - Fawnteeth  - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 - “People have called me controlling. It sounds like you want to surrender your control though.” 

“Not wrong.” - Fawnteeth   - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ You’re not hard to read.”

“I’ll try and take it as a compliment.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:07 PM

 11:07 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “Deception and confusion are a waste of time. Own it.”  

“I’ll try my best. I’m used to being considered odd.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Are you?”

“I’m on fetlife. So, yes.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I suppose.”

 11:08 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ We already established you’re new to this. Will I be your first dominant?”

“Yes. Not my first partner.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:08 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “ Were they not interested in this?”

“I never brought it up to them. I don’t really want romance right now.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 -  “And if you fall for me?”

“I’d rather talk about it then, I suppose. I don’t get the vibe from you that you’re looking for romance, just a pet.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:09 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Good, and no, not right now.”

“But you think I’ll fall in love with you?” - Fawnteeth  - 11:09 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “You’re young and inexperienced. Maybe you will, maybe you won’t.” 

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ My last important rule - no drugs, limited alcohol. If you drink you must have friends with you that are reliable or myself. Drinking and doing drugs is just asking to put yourself in a vulnerable situation. It’s a precaution some have complained about.” 

With how much he spoke of other people not liking his rules it was almost like he was trying to talk you out of it.

“That’s fine. I celebrated my 21st by watching movies.”   - Fawnteeth  - 11:10 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What movies?”  

“Midsommar, it’s my favorite. Silence of the lambs too. Roomies insisted on watching Barbie after that. lol ” - Fawnteeth  - 11:10 PM

 11:10 PM - WebRigger2099 - “ You like horror.”

“Yes. I thought the ghostface poster in my 3rd photo gave it away.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “And you’d like him or some other violent thing to chase you down and do whatever they wanted with you instead of killing you.”

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “It must make watching movies with a group tense if that’s what is going through your mind.” 

“I won’t say it doesn’t.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “Let me guess: some part of you likes the discomfort?” 

“Honestly. I haven’t thought about it. Probably.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:11 PM

 11:11 PM - WebRigger2099 - “I think you’d like to walk around with a lovense in you, never knowing when I might turn it on or increase the settings. You enjoy suspense.”

“ It’s appealing, yeah.” - Fawnteeth  - 11:12 PM

You sit back on your bed, propping up the laptop with your pillows. Why did you love that this guy was reading you like an open book? You take in a deep breath, remember - play it cool.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - “What do you want out of all of this?” 

“My first thought is sex - but also to learn myself a bit more, I guess. Explore something with a partner I can trust… Please someone, feel better about myself. Like I said - I’m a tall woman, it doesn’t exactly make you feel pretty.”  - Fawnteeth  - 11:12 PM

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - "Okay, sounds good."  

You bite your lip, reading over the message on your dimly lit phone screen over and over again. Curling up tighter into the cotton blanket on your bed, you exhale, the cheap mattress creaking underneath you. You flinch, eyes flickering towards the shut door of your bedroom. Your heart flutters in your chest for a few moments until silence rings in your ears. 

You haven’t woken up any of your roommates.Thank god. 

Sighing, you turn your attention back to your phone, looking over the message again.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 - "Okay, sounds good." 

Usually men are more expressive in their text speech when it comes to you - to the extent that some even make you uncomfortable. But WebRigger2099… is very much not . You’ve dubbed him 'Web' in your head, easy enough with his username. 

Web is formal, speaks with proper punctuation and never a single spelling mistake or emote. He’s direct, not flowery or soft in any way. But… you kind of like that. Direct is easy. There’s no guessing games with instructions and meanings laid out plainly.

 11:12 PM - WebRigger2099 -“ You are very pretty, by the way. ” 

You blush.

[mrsriddlenott]

~ Caught VI ~

Mattheo Riddle x fem!Reader

[masterlist][last part]

This is gonna be Christmas centered(gift giving and such)even though it’s almost Halloween😭🤷‍♀️thought it was cute.

I’m sorry if this is a bit long, I’m tryna get in some real plot with this chapter🤞🥰

Warnings: A Lil Angst(in the beginning), VeryFluffy,SweetSmut,Unprotected PinV, DaddyKink. Sex Toys Mentioned&Alludes to Bondage(future pt😉)

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be in here?” Mattheo asked in a hushed whisper as you pushed the heavy door of your manor’s library shut behind you both.

“I’m the only one who ever comes in here, they won’t even hear us talking all the way in the back.” You sighed out, the ball had just ended and your father had unsurprisingly pulled your mother into his study, likely to “brief” her on his plans.

“I know I should have told you ages ago and it was wrong of me to keep it from you….and all of our friends. But I just couldn’t, I couldn’t even form the words to tell you he was a Death Eater, let alone what he’s been planning since….he went into hiding.” Mattheo listened to your hushed words intently, wincing slightly at your mention of his father as you led him to a small leather loveseat in the far back corner of the large, dusty library.

“I knew I’d tell you eventually….I guess I just got so caught up in everything else that I never decided to try. Or maybe I was just too scared you’d never talk to me again. Honestly I don’t know.” You shook your head as you sat on the cold leather, Mattheo remained hovering, standing in front of you as you avoided his eyes.

“I had a half-brother, Will. He died before I was born in the First Wizarding War. My dad tried to run with his first wife, so his wife and son were killed. He married my mom for the money that marrying into my grandfather’s family promised, and then had me to make sure he got the inheritance.” You didn’t notice when you started crying or when Mattheo joined you on the seat to comfort you. The story was clear in your mind as though it happened to you, you grew up under your fathers hatred, and knew every small detail of his obsession.

Your father was one of very few people who knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the Dark Lord did not die on Halloween of ‘81, and when he inevitably came back to power almost 3 years ago, it all was meant to fall into action. Your father played the dutiful follower as he weaseled his way into his inner circle. Your mother was to play the innocent housewife as she absorbed all information from the wives and husbands of the other Death Eaters. And you….you were to get their children to tell you anything they knew of their parents assignments. However, you threw a wrench in that plan before it even began, you’d never hurt your friends, and once you started dating Mattheo it was solidified.

And your father hated you for it.

It only took one year at Hogwarts for your love of your friends to overpower your love for your father. You fed him lies and misinformation or avoided home all together, but somehow could never come out and tell your friends why you introduced yourself to them in the first place. By the time you realized you should have, they were your new family, you couldn’t imagine them turning around and hating you just because of this mistake. So whether consciously or not you weren’t sure, but you hid it, for almost 6 years, you hid it. Even as your father approached his goal, even knowing all of their families would be caught in the crossfire when he succeeded.

“You don’t need to tell me it all tonight,” Mattheo whispered in a small voice nothing like his usual cocky tone. Your bloodshot eyes met his in a pleading look as you tried to speak.

“No I do, I….I should have told you years ago, I should have told all of you years ago.” Mattheo was a smart person, he’d already guessed what your role in this was, and considering him and his father were still very much alive, he also guessed you didn’t quite play the role you were given correctly. Despite the pit in his stomach about what he’s going to have to do to protect you, he was soaring over your loyalty. The fact that you were here in front of him, and not in your fathers study, had his heart hammering in his chest. If he hadn’t already planned to marry you, he certainly would have decided to right here.

“No Gorgeous, you really don’t….I think….I think I already know.” He sighed with a soft smile as he took your chin in his thumb and forefinger, turning you to look at him with your bloodshot, teary eyes. Mattheo delicately brought the thumb of his other hand to wipe your tears away, like you were a piece of art he was preserving. His lips followed suit, pampering light kisses down both your cheeks as he whisperered, “It’s okay y/n, I know and I’m still here, I’m always going to be here.”

Your body practically fell into him as you collapsed into sobs of gratitude and relief. Mattheo’s arms wrapped around you as though it was what they were made to do, pulling you into his lap as he settled into the loveseat further. He let you sob into his neck, brushing tangles from your hair with his fingers and speaking softly of your future together in your ear until you were silently breathing deeply and lightly snoring into him.

“You’re safe Baby, you’ll never have to come back here I promise you that.” Mattheo listened to your breathing deepen as you fell into a dreamless sleep in his arms, but continued to speak, “You’re the only part of this world that matters Darling,” He nuzzled his nose into your hair as his eyelids fell, content right here with you, “I will let it all burn just for you my beautiful Angel” He let out a deep sigh as though finally stripping himself of a great burden on his shoulders, “You’re all that matters to me,” His fingers curled into you hair deeper as his hand on your waist pulled your sleeping form in closer in a protective hold.

He stayed holding you for what felt like an eternity while so short at the same time before gently rising with you in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he maneuvered through the dusty bookshelves to the door. He found your room easily, he’d been there before as a child, you and the rest of the boys had spent practically all of Winter, Spring, and Summer Holiday your First Year there. He’d never understood why you’d never invited them again, but now he saw it clearly as a form of protection. Your father likely loved the idea of the sons of all of Voldemorts best followers, and his own son, coming around his manor with their guards down.

It was much different now, the large circular bed in front of the arched window was now covered in shades of red with black pillows instead of the purples he’d remembered from years ago. The vanity directly across the bed was new as well, it’s large mirror sparkled with the reflection of the stars behind the headboard of your bed as he placed you on it. He swore you looked like a princess, the color of your dress clashing with the bed only drawing his attention to you more while he retreated to remove your heels, struggling to unclip them before tossing them aside with a huff of annoyance.

You stirred slightly as he untied the strings on the back of your dress and began softly pulling it down. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with it so just draped it across a fuzzy chair in the corner with a shrug before ridding himself of his tie, suit jacket, and pants. He unbuttoned his shirt as he crawled slowly onto the bed behind you, trying his hardest to let you sleep while attempting to get his shirt on over your arms. You woke up only for a second, allowing him to slip you into his shirt as you voiced your annoyance in a few grumbled sentences before slipping back into your dreams, snuggling into his scent and giving him a warm feeling in his chest.

He found it easy to fall into a dreamless sleep, something he was never used to until you were a constant in his life. Under your blankets surrounded by your scent, he felt safe, he felt you were safe, he pulled you into his chest with a content sigh. He’d been waiting weeks to sleep beside you again, and he didn’t plan to be sleeping alone anytime soon.

The next morning Mattheo woke you with kisses to your neck and face, allowing you to adjust to the early morning light before ushering you to get dressed and ready to go. “We’re going back to Hogwarts….or anywhere you want…” Just not here, he thought, wanting more than anything to have you out of this house before your father even realized he planned to.

Repacking your trunk was much faster with Mattheo grabbing things and throwing them in before yanking it up and escorting you out of your own house. Before you recognized what was happening you were being Apparated to right outside the Hogwarts grounds and tugged through a tunnel you had no idea existed.

“Matty what is this?” The tunnel was cramped, barley enough space for the both of you as he guided you around as though he’d been there before.

“It’s a tunnel he made when he went here, not even Harry or the Weasleys know about it so we’ll be safe in here while we get back to the castle.” You didn’t need to ask who he meant by he and you definitely didn’t need to ask why he seemed to know it like the back of his hand.

“Oh” Your voice was small and meek as you started to realize he was keeping things from you too, you didn’t know whether to feel relieved that you weren’t the only one keeping secrets or worried about what he felt was too dangerous to inform you about. You knew he had unavoidable meetings with his father, you knew he had to do things to stay alive and you didn’t blame him, but it hurt you to think about the fact that you’d never really thought about what must be happening.

You’d seen his scars and fresh wounds every month, but he’d always say he had it under control and for some reason you always listened. A part if you wanted to know everything right then, while the other, much larger part, was wishing you’d run away with Mattheo when you had the chance.

After what felt like hours you emerged from behind a statue in a dimly lit corridor somewhere in the dungeons. Mattheo took your hand like it was second nature, allowing your trunk to float along behind him while escorting you to his dorm. The corridors were empty and cold, most of the remaining student body gone on holiday, the castle that used to bring comfort to generations of young witches and wizards, now held a lingering sense of danger, like something wrong was hiding just behind the corner.

And as you watched Mattheo’s focused eyes, clenched jaw, and possessive hand, you thought there just might be.

~~~~

Christmas at Hogwarts was always worth looking forward to, it gave even the most damaged of us a chance to let loose. But as you looked around the Slytherin Common room, realizing it was almost midnight on December 24th and not a single person seemed to care, you decided that just for the next 24 hours, there wasn’t a single thing wrong. You would tell everyone the truth on the 26th and everything would be okay. You were sure of it.

Even if it was just you and Mattheo, you were celebrating Christmas like you did every year. Huddled up in the boys dorm, drinking spiked hot chocolate, fighting over the best Christmas songs, and giving each other presents.

Mattheo wasn’t shocked to see you sauntering through his door with a bottle of firewhiskey and wrapped boxes as you had for the past 5 years. His heart sank slightly as he watched your eyes swivel around the un-decorated and empty dorm room.

“Wh-,” They had decorated their dorm room every year, at first it started with you bringing them little ornaments from a village by your manor your first Christmas together. By your second Christmas, Mattheo took it upon himself to buy a miniature Christmas tree. A memory you could never forget, a chilly December evening organizing only 5 ornaments along it. Arguing slightly all the way until Mattheo told the boys to just listen to you. It was one of the first moments you even realized you liked the curly headed boy.

From that year on, every member of the friend group was ensured to get at least one gift, a new ornament for the dorm tree. Which was still stuffed in it’s box under Mattheo’s nightstand. Mattheo followed your eyes to it and sighed, “I’m sorry Baby, I completely forgot to decorate this year and all the boys got an owl to come home so I did-“

“It’s okay Matty,” You gave him a soft smile as you set your bottle and packages on his bed and took your seat beside them.

“I’ll set it up now and we can decorate it together, Enzo and Blaise left some gifts behind so w-“ He stopped abruptly as you flopped backward further onto his bed with an exaggerated sigh.

“What a shame, all of your dorm mates gone and no way to be caught in the act, the horror,” You giggled slightly as your sarcasm began to settle in his mind and a smile tugged on his lip.

“Don’t act like you don’t absolutely love when we’re almost caught, I can feel how you clench around me Princess,” He stalked towards you as he leant himself against the bedposts at the end of the frame, eyeing the way you bit back a laugh and sat yourself up on your elbows.

“Okay Mr. “Scream My Name,” Your voice held an unusual mix of teasing and dominance that Mattheo wasn’t quite used to as you swayed your leg and watched while his tongue subconsciously wet his lips.

“Mmm, don’t tempt me Princess. I wanted to open presents first.” He faked a pout, watching your skirt slide up your moving thigh as your fingers moved to slowly unbutton your shirt.

“Am I not a present fit to be unwrapped Mr.Riddle?” You teased as you licked across you teeth and played at the second button on your shirt. Mattheo groaned from deep in his chest as his head fell backwards, his jaw clenched as he tried to collect himself.

“Baby, I have a plan and if you call me that again you’re gonna miss out. You don’t wanna miss out do you Gorgeous?” His eyes met yours, the dark spark you knew meant he was in control having you bite at your smile and shake your head, still slightly playing with the buttons on your shirt.

“Good girl, now come here,” Mattheo suddenly pushed off the bedposts and motioned for you to follow with a wiggle of two of his fingers.

“I thought I’d have to give these to you late but since you’re here,” Mattheo sighed happily as he pulled out a trunk from under his bed, “Sit on the edge….now.” You were slightly confused but after a second followed his orders, swaying your feet and waiting patiently as he unlocked the trunk with two loud clicks.

“Your first set,” You narrowed your eyes at him as he set two neatly wrapped black boxes beside you, both tied with a red bow. “First….set?” Mattheo only nodded his head with a happy little smile before urging you to open them with his outstretched hands. The first and smallest was expected, a delicate glass snowflake ornament hanging from a silver ribbon.

“Perfect, I can hang it on the tree when it’s set up,” You said happily as you gently set it back in it’s box, “Actually that’s gonna be the first to go on our tree.” Mattheo interjected, making you giggle up at him before realizing he was entirely serious.

“It may collect some dust while I find the perfect cottage for you,” He said with a wave of his hands, “but that’s the first place it’s going, nowhere else”

“Okay Matty, it’s decided,” You laughed as you grabbed at your, significantly less neat, golden wrapped package. Mattheo’s hand dramatically shot to his chest as his mouth dropped open, “For me?” he gasped sarcastically, ripping it from your hands as he opened it.

“Oh fuck Baby, is this the one we saw in Diagon Alley?” Mattheo’s voice was filled with excitement you rarely got to hear as he pulled out the thick silver ring with a snake tangled around the front. He haphazardly shoved it on each of his fingers before ultimately settling on his right pointer finger.

“How does it look Gorgeous?” He held up his pointer and middle finger, letting the others fall beside them as he watched you bite at your lip. “Can’t wait to find out what it’ll look like halfway inside of you…mm” He seemed to be in his own world as he eyed the ring, fitting perfectly with the other two he already wore on that hand, before shaking his head slightly, “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, your turn again.”

You shook your head, blinking rapidly with a shocked smile before reaching for the next box, his eyes lighting up to follow as though he’d just remembered what was hidden behind the wrapping paper. It was was longer and thinner than the last box, opening on a hinge to reveal a golden necklace with a heart shaped ruby dangling in the middle.

“Gods Matty….” You whispered, feeling across the necklace delicately with your fingertips. “It’s beautiful,”

“Can I put it on for you Princess?” Mattheo asked as he crawled on the bed around you, reaching for the necklace before you could answer. Clasping it quickly and leaving a kiss on the base of your neck, whispering with a confident smirk, “It has my initials carved in the middle of the heart.”

You chuckled as you felt at the pendent hanging between your collarbones, grabbing at the next package while Mattheo began kissing up and down the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his breath fanned against your cold skin. You turned in his arms, handing him his hext gift with a smile. “And here’s your ornament,” Mattheo gasped as though he was offended, snatching the package mumbling, “Don’t ruin my surprise Baby,”

“I get you one every year, besides you don’t know what’s on it, now open it,” He huffed while ripping at the messily placed tape, halting slightly, staring down at a handmade ornament in the shape of a gingerbread house. A moving picture of you and him from almost two years ago sat where the door would have been, a picture that was taken only days after he realized he was madly in love with you, something he wasn’t sure you knew. Making it ten times better.

“I’ve changed my mind, your snowflake will be the second ornament on our tree.” His gaze met yours as a smile grew on his face, laughing while gently placing it into it’s box and leaning back to set it on his nightstand. “I wanna open my last one before you get more.”

Mattheo’s voice was stern and matter of factly, taking his last present from beside you as you nervously chewed the insides of your cheek. He wasted no time ripping into it, looking between you and the box as his brows bunched together, delicately pulling out a silk red tie, “Now, no offense Darling, but red isn’t really my color,”

“No….but it is mine.” Mattheo watched as you bit your lip before looking back at the box, realization settling in as he clutched the tie hard in his hand, closing his eyes as he groaned slightly.

“You know they say great minds think alike….” He spoke after a second of gathering himself, kissing your cheek before slipping off the bed and reaching back into the trunk, retreating with two larger wrapped boxes.

“This one first,” He all but shoved the box at you, watching you intently as he bounced in front of you. You slowly unwrapped the box, delicately removing each piece of tape as Mattheo narrowed his eyes at you threateningly. “I’m gonna open it myself if you don’t hurry up.”

“Okay okay” You giggled, tearing through the rest of the paper and throwing off the lid of a deep red box. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared down at its contents, a black blindfold neatly wrapped around a set of fuzzy handcuffs, a vibrator, and a collar on a chain. Your face burned as you looked up to a now very nervous Mattheo.

“Is it too much? Do you not like the idea? We can just move on to the next one if-“ He rambled as you looked up at him with a smile, reaching into the box as he spoke.

“Is this a remote Mattheo?” You asked teasingly, biting your lip at Mattheo’s sigh of relief from your demeanor. “Hell yeah it is Baby, that’s more for me though,” He was immediately back to his regular cocky self as he snatched the remote and slipped it into his pocket.

“Saved the best for last.” Mattheo sighed, handing you the largest of the four and watching you intently. He knew exactly which would he your favorite, and knew exactly which one to save for last. You smiled brightly up to him as you pulled out the red, loose weight thigh length dress from it’s box.

“Matty! I love it, thank you,” You practically screamed as you jumped up to hug him, laughing as he lifted you up by your waist. He chuckled in your ear, wrapping your legs around him, pulling you back to look at your face.

“Anything for you Gorgeous,” He said breathlessly as he smashed his lips into yours in a passionate kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs while his tongue began exploring your mouth immediately.

“Fucking hell I love you, you’re the best thing to ever happen to me ya know that,” He growled, kissing down your neck, nipping at it aggressively as he mindlessly cleared the bed of presents, papers, and boxes before laying you down softly and crawling up your body to meet your lips again. Mattheo quickly rid himself of his shirt, pulling at yours as you slid your skirt and panties off, Mattheo cursed as he jumped from the bed to shove his sweats and boxers off. Tripping over them in a rush to join you back on the bed, falling on you slightly as you fell into a fit of laughter.

“Yeah yeah whatever, come here,” He huffed, pulling your face in to an aggressive kiss. He nipped at your lips and battled your tongue with his, your teeth knocking together as you breathed heavily into each other’s mouths. His hands trailed slowly down your sides, stopping at your hips to tug you forward, plowing into without warning, a whine of a moan fell from you as Mattheo sighed and fell into you, holding himself up on his forearms as he began softly fucking into you.

Mattheo’s lips trailed along your shoulder, stoping only to moan as you circled your hips to his slow thrusts. Your fingers found themselves tangled his hair, tugging slightly as the others trailed down his toned back with a teasing scratch. He groaned in your ear, picking up his pace only slightly as he rocked his hips into yours. He lifted his head to meet your eyes as you clenched around him, steadying himself with a hand on your hip, increasing his pace further as he watched your head fall back with a moan of appreciation.

Mattheo felt himself twitch inside you as your nails dug into his back and tugged at his hair, he wasn’t gonna last long after not having you for weeks, but he wanted you to come first. He slowed himself down to an agonizingly slow pace as you whined under him, he balanced himself on a hand beside your head as he brushed his free hand from your hip down your thigh before suddenly bringing it to rush fast circles onto your clit. Picking up his pace and falling back into your neck, licking a stripe from the base of your neck to your ear, whisperering against it’s shell as you shivered, “You like that Princess? Do you like being fucked after I spoil you?”

All you could do to respond was nod weakly as he groaned against your bruised neck, “Do you like it when Daddy treats you like a Princess?” For a second Mattheo stalled, as though he didn’t mean to let the name slip, but quickly picked up his pace as you wiggled below him with a whine of “Yes”

He looked down at you with a wild, daring smile as his eyes darkened further, “Yes what?” He growled, thrusting into you harder as you tried to speak, jumbling your words as you began to lose focus.

“Daddy, ye- Oh fuck, Yes Dadd-“ Mattheo cut you off with a wicked smile as he ruthlessly pounded into you, you were shaking with the bed as his thrusts became irregular and his fingers slowed. Your head felt dizzy as you clamped around him, feeling his cum spill inside you sending you over the edge as you screamed his name.

You came together as Mattheo collapsed on top of you. “That’s much better than our past Christmas traditions,” You sighed in a breathless voice as Mattheo’s arms snaked around your naked waist, cuddling you into him while still inside.

“I love you, and I plan to spend every Christmas I have left with you,” Mattheo whispered in a suddenly very serious tone.

~~~~

Caught VII

I hope this Isn’t weird or anything because I absolutely love it🥰🥰

-HP Taglist-

@timmytime17 @talia-scar123 @spencer-reids-wife @ttsbaby01 @animorose @whydoireadanymore @thievin-stealing @spiderman-stilinski @evycloudberry @shady-the-simp @ashisabitgay @porterport @callsignwidow @cicicicicisstuff @mattheoriddleswifee @junebugin-july @moonlightreader649 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @rubyliquor @perverteddsdreams @mildly-delulu @fairydimples07 @shadowmoonlight0604 @80scinemvasworld @nevillescomslut @annaisabookworm @abaker74 @athenalikethegoddess

[jazzyoranges]

Splitting Headache

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tara is there when you have a shitty day at work

Words: 1.0k

A/n: i didn’t spell check or anything so sorry if there’s mistakes 😇 also kinda inspired by a reddit story i saw on tiktok

Warnings(?): fluff, annoying customers

You’ve had a long fucking day at work. Your day was already bad when you woke up. There was a throbbing pain right in the middle for your forehead, but alas, the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache. Unfortunately, your headache only worsened when you somehow slipped on a chew toy in the kitchen of your apartment

But the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache or a bruise on your ass. You worked as a barista at a pretty busy coffee shop. There was always a constant stream of people ordering pastries, drinks, and sandwiches. At least you got paid a little more than average, right?

Luckily the car ride to the shop wasn’t too bad. Until you almost crashed into some dumbass driver that doesn’t know how to drive. A plethora of curses escaped your lips as you angrily beeped at the guy that almost made a dent in your car — your precious baby

But the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache, a bruise on your ass, or idiot drivers. You’re only a few minutes late so you quickly put on your apron and start making some drinks. The thing you hate most about your job isn’t the customers, but the overly complex and sugary coffees. Like, who the fuck is ordering a liquified birthday cake coffee at eight in the morning? The loud machine’s definitely didn’t make your headache better

But the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache, a bruise on your ass, idiot drivers, or loud noises. Thankfully your job was pretty simple. Well, to you it was a pain in the ass, but an easy pain in the ass. Take the order, make the drink, spell the name wrong, and serve. Sounds pretty easy, but there just so happens to be a certain time where the worst customers come in. Nine in the morning. At nine in the morning, all of the angry moms and the mean business men come in to have their morning coffee

And every single morning you have to deal with them

Every.

Single.

Morning.

Today was absolutely no different

“I asked for two pumps of vanilla! You only put one!”

“No, that gift card isn’t used up!”

“I get to cut the line. I’m more important than anyone else here!”

But the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache, a bruise on your ass, idiot drivers, loud noises, or annoying customers. Really, the only thing that was getting you through this day was your girlfriend. Your amazing, beautiful, wonderful, kind, beau-

“This is disgusting! You must be new, this is not the matcha coffee I ordered!” A woman snaps you out of your thoughts and you have to put on your customer-service voice

“Actually, i’ve been working here for about six months. What seems to be the issue?”

“Are you trying to smart-mouth me, young lady?”

“Not at all, ma’am.”

“Yeah the hell you are!” The lady was practically screaming at you, and you saw some phones recording your situation. At least you’d have proof of verbal harassment if you decided to punch her

“Please, ma’am, I’ll make it for you again.”

“No way! You’ve ruined my morning!” And with that, the woman splashes her drink in your face before you can react. Your manager catches wind of the situation, but he gets there too late. You’re already dripping green when he arrives. You storm off into the break room with a scowl on your face

But the world doesn’t stop spinning for a dumb headache, a bruise on your ass, idiot drivers, loud noises, annoying customers, or women that throw matcha coffee in your face. Thankfully your manager is nice and kind enough to know the customer isn’t always right. He offers you the day off, and you happily accept. You wash up before leaving and earn a few “I’m sorry she did that”’s and “She was in the wrong”’s, which makes you feel a little better knowing the other customers were on your side

The entire situation just made your head throb even harder

Originally you were going to go back home to take a nap, but you decide to visit the only reason you kept going today. You’re amazing, beautiful, wonderful, kind, girlfriend Tara. All you wanted to do was spend the rest of the day in her arms and kiss until your lips were swollen. Every sapphic woman’s dream, really

You pull into the garage of Tara’s apartment complex, and practically sprint to her room. One minute flat, a new record. Softly knocking on the door as to not scare her, you patiently waited to hear her footsteps check the peephole

“Baby?” Your girlfriend says behind the door before opening it. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

You choose to not elaborate, and pull her into a shoulder crushing hug

“What’s with the affection? Tell me what’s wrong, love”

“Bad day. Cuddle?” You mumble into her shoulder, and she laughs while shutting the door

“Of course.” Tara pulls your face to hers, giving you a deep kiss before taking you to her room. You can’t your giddy smile and it makes the younger Carpenter happy

There are random shirts and shorts from all the times you’ve spent over, and you quickly change before jumping into Tara’s arms. Burying your head into your girlfriend’s chest, you sigh at her smell. She’s exactly what home smells like to you

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong, baby?”

“Tired.” You mumble

“It’s only two in the afternoon my love”

“Just want you...” You mumble again in one breath, making Tara laugh

She had to be magic. Your worries washed away, and simply being with her made you feel better. Tara ran her hands through your hair, massaging your head. Simultaneously, your headache was nearly gone. Shitty days, mediocre days, good days, you knew your girlfriend would be there to pick you up. Maybe you wouldn’t mind if the world stopped spinning for Tara Carpenter

—

Bonus:

“Baby, why do you smell like matcha?”

“Long story.”

[alottiegoingon]

flannels

summary: where shauna catches you wearing her flannel

shauna shipman x fem!reader (all characters are aged up + in college)

warnings: established relationship, pre-crash, minimal usage of bad words, yellowjackets but in college, NSFW content!!! (MDNI), fingering, dom!shauna, sub!reader, probably a bunch of english mistakes and bad writing, not proofread

Shauna’s birthday was coming up and for the past three months you have been struggling. You and Shauna were officially dating for almost six months now and you wanted to give her something special to let her know how much you loved her. That’s why you decided to skip practice today and go straight to her house after class by making up some silly excuse. You knew that she was smart and wouldn't believe you at all but you were willing to take the risk. As time was running low, you decided on the one thing that you knew that Shauna would love.

Flannels. She would wear them everywhere and at any occasion. You could track her from miles away just by looking for a girl wearing oversized flannel shirts and, honestly, it was one of your favorite things about her. You could worry about other small gifts later, but now you were determined to find the exact size of her clothes and that’s why you were standing in front of her house, waiting for her mom to open the door for you.

You didn’t want Shauna to find out, you wanted to be a surprise. That’s what you told her mother when you called her the other day, explaining the situation and practically begging her to let you sneak into her room while her daughter was out. Gladly, you were a sweetheart. At least this is what her parents called you. Always a sweet angel, a good influence for their daughter.

Now, you were stepping into your girlfriend’s room. The light from the string lights in the wall by her bed was on, giving the bedroom a dark pinkish tone along with the small lampshade. Taking a quick glance, you could see thousands of pictures of Shauna with her friends, especially her best friend Jackie, and of you two hanging on her wall and in portraits by her desk. In a blink of an eye, you remind yourself of the reason why you were skipping practice and would probably get your ass beaten by Jackie tomorrow, you had no time to lose. Rushing into Shauna’s closet, you get in, not taking longer than a second to find what you were looking for.

The amount of variety of colors in the shirts made you giggle as you were reaching out for one of the many to check the size on the small tag. It wasn’t a surprise that it was only one size apart from yours and to be fair, you always wondered about how comfortable it would be to wear them. Shauna would probably take hours to come home since Jackie was not much of a compassionate soul when it came to soccer and would always make the girls almost faint of exhaustion by the time practice was over. You had nothing to worry about.

You smell Shauna’s perfume lingering in the air as you put on one of her flannels and button it up. It only made you miss her more now, distracting your brain from the actual reason you were in her room. You look in the mirror close to the bed and you finally understand why she loves this so much. It’s cute, comfortable and it surprisingly matches with the pants and shirt that you were wearing with no effort.

“Are you in the closet?” Your heart almost stopped beating and you feel your blood turning to ice in your veins as a very familiar voice reverberate through the room. You turn around with the speed of light to find Shauna standing, leaning against the doorframe and staring at you, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. The seriousness in her posture and even the slight fear that would leak through her intense stare was being betrayed by a goofy smirk on the corner of her lips.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find a better way to tell you.” You make use of the most soothing tone you can achieve, exaggerating a pout as you approach your girlfriend. “Shauna, I’m gay.” Your pout fades away as quickly as it started, being replaced by a cheeky smirk on your lips, and your girlfriend lets out a soft chuckle. You feel Shauna’s arms gently embracing you, sliding through your sides and getting tighter around your waist. Like an automatic response, you wrap your arms around her neck, both of you failing to hold silly smiles.

“I thought you were sick but… Apparently you were just in the mood for stealing your girlfriend’s clothes?” She teases and you can even notice a bit of a flirting in her voice. She looks away from your eyes, dragging her attention to your body and how her flannel looked slightly bigger on you, gracefully falling from your shoulders to the middle of your thighs. You, however, do not look away from her and you see her big dilating pupils glistening differently. She loses her arms around your body to unbutton the first ones, catching your attention. “What are you doing here?” She insists as you remain quiet.

“Waiting for you…” You shrug. As usual, you couldn’t hold the eye contact when you lied poorly and Shauna noticed it at the exact same second. “Waiting for me in my bedroom instead of going to practice and leave together?” She lifted one eyebrow, trying her best to not smile. It was kind of amusing to her how you had such a bad time lying and how easy it was for her to figure it out. “You are such a bad liar.”

“I know! It’s so hard!” You exhale in relief. It’s not like you were a good liar and would be able to keep the lie for much longer. It wasn’t on your plans to reveal your idea but Shauna was smart. Probably way smarter than you, and would have figured out if you were lying again. “I was trying to find your size to buy you another flannel. I know you love them and I just…” You stop.

You feel the warmth of Shauna’s hands going down from your shoulders to your biceps and giving it a gentle squeeze in a reassuringly way, subtly asking you to continue.

“I don’t know what I should do for your birthday, alright? I can’t find anything good enough, it has to be perfect! I’m a terrible girlfriend.” You grumble and the next thing you hear is Shauna’s surprise scoff.

“What?!” She doesn’t even let you consider saying something else. She had to intervene and stop this nonsense. “Listen. I don’t need a perfect gift.” She innocently mocks you while mimicking your desperate need to give her something flawless. Her hands reach up, her palms resting on your cheeks, cupping your face and forcing you to look into her eyes. You almost get lost in them, like always.

“I literally managed to date the prettiest girl in Wiskayok High, this is the best gift that I could ever receive. The only thing I want is to spend the day with you, you idiot.” She murmurs and you see her cheeks getting a new color, a light shade of pink. No matter how hard it was for her to show her feelings, she would always push her limits and face her fear, eager to let you know how important and loved you were and you appreciated her effort a lot.

For a moment you find yourself wanting to look away, too flustered to not break the eye contact, but you can’t miss your girlfriend’s reddish face. “Fine. I just wanted to give you something special.” You whine and see Shauna’s expression change ever so slight as she suddenly breaks the eye contact and shifts her attention to your body. “Maybe I have something in mind.”

In less than five minutes you were lying in Shauna’s bed with her on top of you as her lips were busy marking the skin of your neck. “You know that your mom is home, right?” You ask, running out of breath already, just to hear a muffled attempt of your girlfriend to pronounce slurred words. “I locked the door, it’s fine.”

You figured what Shauna’s idea of a perfect gift was when you were about to take off her flannel and she immediately stopped you. She was begging you to let her fuck you while you wear it and you could swear that her pupils got bigger than usual.

You made a pitiful sound as her teeth dig into your neck, claiming you and brushing her warm tongue right on top of the recent wound. Your hands were on her head, fingers getting lost between her dark hair, as you were nearly melting under her. Shauna, on the other hand, was fierce and while doing a very good job on your neck, her right hand was exploring your upper body. The coldness of her fingertips made you squeak when she got under your shirt and slowly scratched your stomach. Soon she was already playing with your nipples, pinching and squeezing as much as she wanted to and it was driving you crazy already. “Shauna-“ You tried to catch her attention and beg her to just fuck you but she interrupts you.

“Patience.” Her tone is firm as she mutters her words, this time leaving your neck alone to give your lips lots of quick pecks as a way to shut you up. It worked every time. On her knees between your legs, she takes her time at finishing unbuttoning her flannel that you were wearing, staring at you intensely. She lifts the cute white shirt that you were wearing underneath up to your chest and gets down on you. Her face is inches away from your skin and you feel your clit throbbing as you anticipate everything in your head.

You were forced to cover your own mouth to avoid any loud moans when Shauna’s tongue met your stomach. Her hands were moving through your sides and no matter how awkward you could possibly find; she was always looking at you feeling completely mesmerized even by your tiniest reaction to her touch and while wearing her clothes. It takes her seconds to unzip and undo your jeans and you help her to toss it on the floor. Unlike your jeans, your damp panties didn’t get the same faith. Instead, Shauna just pulled them down to your ankles and you accidentally whine, excited to feel her or anything coming from her. It didn’t take longer before Shauna was kissing your inner thighs purposefully close to your core. Her grip was tight on your legs, forcing you to spread them as far as you could.

“Stop teasing.” You cooed. Better, you begged. Giving up on quieten your moans, your hands went straight to the bed and firmly grabbed the sheets. Shauna didn’t seem as desperate as you, of course, and she was enjoying making you squirm under her. It was her favorite view. “Just be quiet.” Impatiently, she slaps your thigh and the sharp sound fills the room along with an unexpected moan of yours. She kisses your thighs for a few more seconds, holding them in place and exposing your wet pussy completely, and after what it felt like hours, she goes back to meet you.

You groan in annoyance, completely shocked by how she just left you hanging. Your lips parted, ready to complain or say anything to make Shauna get back there but she was faster and your attempt to mutter a few words changed to a gasp as you feel her fingers barely rubbing up and down on your soaked pussy, feeling all of you. “How are you so wet already?” She chuckles and you roll your eyes. “Shut up. Can you just-“

Your words were cut by a breathy whimper as you feel two of your girlfriend’s fingers entering your pussy. You were so soaked that it was almost embarrassing how easily it went all in. Then, you understood why Shauna left your legs, she wanted to look at you. Her eyes were so intense on you that it could dig holes onto your skin if she wanted to. Instead, she was just enjoying you feeling her touches and wanted to memorize every second of it. As you squirmed under her, Shauna’s fingers began to slowly pump into you, in and out in a tortuous pace just to see you beg.

“Please…” You panted looking into her eyes. She smirks but the rhythm doesn’t change. She has to hear it. “Please what?” Just like expected, she insists on forcing you to say exactly what you want. On forcing you to submit completely and just enjoy her touch. And as usual, you obey it.

“Faster.” Your words are like an inaudible hiss or hush but urgent like oxygen. She nods subtly with a proud look in her face and gives in to your wish. A squelch sound began to echo around the room thanks to how fast Shauna was shoving her fingers inside of you and curling up at the right spot, making you squirm violently and scream almost immediately. You didn’t even care about being loud anymore. Not when Shauna Shipman was fucking you like that.

Your hips started to slowly move, grinding and following Shauna’s fingers pace inside of you. Your moans were getting louder as her movements were getting sloppier. You were both panting and sweating together and the look in your girlfriend’s eyes was almost hypnotic. “You like this?” She murmured and you nodded frantically, whimpering and gasping for air softly, rocking your hips and feeling your legs getting shaky and tense as Shauna was feeling your spongy walls squeezing her fingers tighter. Your breath was getting heavier as you were pathetically trying to ride her fingers, lifting your weight from the mattress to feel her going deeper even if just a little more. Shauna noticed your despair and gave you what you wanted by pumping firmly and fast but making sure to fill all of you. With her thumb, she started to rub your swollen clit in messy circles and you gripped her shoulders as you felt your orgasm building up quickly.

Your grip was so strong that Shauna felt your nails digging into her skin even though her shoulders were covered by one of her famous flannels and she lets out a painful groan but smiled as soon as she realized what was about to happen. “Are you going to cum for me, sweet girl?” She whispers and you can’t manage to answer. It was too intense, too overwhelming.

It took a few more thrusts before your back automatically arched and your fingers squeezed the fabric of your girlfriend’s clothes as you orgasm. You moan her name like a chant over and over again, rolling your eyes back and feeling your inner walls compressing against her fingers, pushing them away. Following your body’s orders, Shauna slowed the pace before she could gently pull her soaked fingers out of you and the act made you groan as you adjusted yourself to the empty feeling.

When you take a look back at your girlfriend, she has an alluring expression in her face. Dreamy eyes and halfway open lips just enough to help her breath. You smile tenderly as she kisses your forehead, trying to recover from the intense climax.

“I changed my mind. Maybe you should buy some new flannels for me. We need to try all of them.”

[writerslittlelibrary]

Girls night... I mean mission

masterlist

summary: when you go on a mission with Natasha Romanoff and her girlfriend Maria Hill, it goes a little differently than what you expected, especially when you end up sharing a room in the hotel 

pairing: Natasha x teen avenger reader, Maria x teen avenger reader

warnings: human trafficking, nightmares

genre: fluff/angst

words: 1329

a/n: I enjoyed writing the ‘I’m not sleeping on the floor’ fic so much I decided to write another one that kind of looks like it but this time with Blackhill :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work 

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

The mission left all three of you broken, bruised and exhausted. You three were assigned to do an important mission together, going undercover at some auction that ended up being a human trafficking ring. Both you and Natasha struggled with it, both having lived through a similar situation. You supposed that’s why Fury assigned Maria to go with you, to ensure there would be someone capable of keeping a clear head.

Neither Natasha nor Maria knew about your past, or what you had been through. Fury decided to respect your choices and not tell anyone, leaving it up to you whether you wanted to share your story or not. 

You hated the way people would look at you differently when they learned what had happened to you. Hated the sympathy they got and the way they started treating you differently. For that exact reason, you had decided to keep your past a secret from all the Avengers, not wanting them to treat you differently too. 

They knew you had an extraordinary past though. Being an Avenger at such a young age didn’t happen to any normal kid, unless you were bitten by a spider of course. They knew something must have happened to you. Your extreme intellect and fighting skills didn’t just appear, you had to have learned them somewhere. 

You were a gifted child, simply being able to see things and connections other people didn’t. Your mind worked in a different way, making you incredibly smart. 

That, of course, helped with the decision to recruit you with the Avengers. What also helped was the fact you had no parents and no known family. You knew what happened to your parents, of course you did, but that was just another thing you’d rather not share. 

You were sitting in the back of the car, staring out the windows and seeing the colors blur together. Maria was driving while Natasha sat in the passenger seat, still being a bit shaken up from what you’d seen that night. The situation of the night made Natasha relive some painful memories, but the thing that bothered her the most, was how you seemed to react to it. 

She had kept her eye on you the entire evening, not wanting to lose you in the crowd, especially not when these people were human traffickers. She was afraid you might get snatched when she wasn’t watching, and you’d be sold among the others. 

Because of the close eye she’d kept, she saw your body language change. You seemed to react badly to the situation you were in, and you seemed to struggle with the idea of the traffickers.

Of course, any sane person would struggle with the idea of human trafficking, but you seemed to react differently to it, like you experienced it yourself. Natasha made no move to tell you this, deciding it would be better to simply keep a close eye on you and protect you from a distance. 

Once you arrived at the hotel, you grabbed your bag and got out, following Maria and Natasha who walked ahead of you. 

Maria walked up to the reception, telling the man behind the counter she wanted a room for the night for her wife and their daughter. You found it was easier that way. Every time you went on a mission the person you were with pretended to be your parent. That way no one batted an eye as to why a teenager would be staying with two strangers. 

The man smiled and handed Maria a key, pointing her to the elevator. 

When you made it up to the room, you set your bag down on the single person bed that was shoved into the corner. “You should take the first shower,” Maria told you, setting her own stuff down onto the big bed. 

You thanked her and made your way into the bathroom, showering quickly before drying off and changing into your comfortable clothes.

You came out of the bathroom and headed for the bed. You saw Maria and Natasha sitting on the bed, seeming deep in conversation. They abruptly stopped when they saw you. Maria smiled and told you goodnight. You wished her goodnight as well before falling down onto the bed, almost immediately falling asleep. 

Unbeknownst to you, Maria and Natasha had been talking about you, and your behavior that evening. Natasha told Maria what she’d seen. The way your body language changed, the way you seemed to be on your toes worse than you normally would on a mission. Maria agreed, having seen the way you behaved as well. She suggested talking to you about it in the morning, when all of you would’ve calmed down and be well rested.

Natasha agreed and after both showering quickly, they too climbed into their bed. They made sure to be quiet, not wanting to wake you. 

Before they fell asleep, however, they could hear you murmuring. At first they just thought you were talking in your sleep, until your body started jerking a little and you seemed to let out terrifying gasps. You were clearly having a nightmare. 

Natasha looked at Maria, unsure of what to do. 

Suddenly you started talking louder, seemingly telling someone to get away from you. You had been good, you kept saying. You were being good and you were begging someone not to hurt you. 

Natasha quickly got up, walking to your bed and sitting down on it, carefully trying to wake you up. The moment her hand landed on your shoulder, you sat up quickly, trying to scurry away from Natasha, as far against the wall as you could go. 

Tears were streaming down your face, and you were whimpering softly. 

“It’s okay,” Natasha told you quietly. “You’re okay. You’re safe.” Your body relaxed a little and your sobs increased. Natasha took that as an okay to scoot a little closer to you and pull your body into hers, letting you cry on her shoulder. 

She wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly as you cried your heart out. “It was just a nightmare,” Natasha ensured you. You just shook your head. “No it’s not, it’s real,” you cried out. Natasha just held you tighter, and you soon realized Maria had joined you on the bed, rubbing you back comfortingly. 

“What do you mean it’s real?” Natasha asked you carefully, wanting to make sure not to overstep. “He’s real, he hurt me,” you cried out.

Natasha seemed to quickly connect the dots, getting tears in her own eyes as well. “You don’t ever have to be afraid anymore. I will always protect you,” she told you. “We both will,” you heard Maria say from your side. Your sobs died down, now being little sniffles. “You promise?” you asked while looking at Natasha. “I promise.” 

After a few minutes of holding you, Natasha pulled away a little. “Do you want to try sleeping again?” she asked you. You quickly shook your head. “Please don’t leave me,” you cried out as tears started collecting in your eyes again. 

Natasha quickly shushed you, dismissing her idea. “You can sleep with us if you want too,” Maria suggested. You looked up at Natasha who just smiled at you.

You slowly nodded your head before letting Natasha guide you to their bed. 

Once you were all lying down, you being in the middle of them, you finally felt safe. Natasha had not once let you go, and Maria was behind you, alternating between rubbing your back and playing with your hair.

It didn’t take long before you were once again consumed by sleep, this time a peaceful slumber.

“We might as well could’ve booked a room for two people,” Maria joked, referring to the fact all three of you were sleeping in the big bed anyway. Natasha smiled and leaned over, giving Maria a quick kiss before lying back down, holding you a little closer as they too fell asleep.

[jackiepackiee]

Oh hey there! This my first time requesting you!

I have a request for chuuya nakahara and dazai osamu. I wanna ask that how would he be a as a boyfriend to a s/o who could control electrons in the atmosphere.

For dazai its how would he confess to girl who he admires for a long time but is scared to lose her, but she confesses to him before he could?

Thank you very much and I love the rule about angst without a happy ending i mean cmon life is tough enough already we all are carrying emotional baggage in some way or the other 😭😭

Love you admin, take care! 💞💞

Trying this again because I finished and tumblr deleted it ALLLL

I love science!

𝒟𝒶𝓏𝒶𝒾 & 𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶 𝓍 𝐸𝓁𝑒𝒸𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓃 𝒜𝒷𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈- 𝓃𝑜𝓅𝑒

𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈 / 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓊𝑒

𝒟𝒶𝓏𝒶𝒾

Will ask the most annoying questions

“Can you make your body a metallic bond so when you’re hit by an enemy, you’re malleable. Oh! Can you make the hatrack an ionic bond so I can make his charges line up and he’ll explode!”

“Dazai… No!

Yall meet a work

He teases you, goes on missions with you, pranks Kunikida with you

But it’s not until your ability goes haywire and you’re hurt one day that he realizes he likes you

From then on, he hugs you when your ability acts up

Nullifying you and getting a hug

A win win in his book

Little things change

He does his paperwork, doesn’t drink as much, teases you more, and makes less suicide attempts

Though, he can’t confess

You’re too good, he can’t ruin you with his depression and violent past

But, what if you say no?

He thinks it’s a lose lose

What a dumb thing for such a smart guy to think?

He finally decided to confess when Ranpo tells him that it’s a good idea

(Ranpo, the world's greatest detective, can obviously tell you like Dazai and he likes you. Why not be the wingman for the new it couple?)

“Dazai… the entire agency knows. And I’ll tell them for you… unless you get me a snack. Yknow, I’m no romance detective, but love is in the air.”

So… he brings you to the Port

Wins you a cute little teddy at a game slot

He’s about to confess

But… before he can speak

“Dazai, I like you!”

You like him. You. So incredibly intelligent, strong, kind? He’s smart, but would’ve never seen this coming

He noticed how the ocean twists

You ability acts up and is causing the hydrogen and oxygen to disconnect

You’re practically shaking with nerves

So… he hugs you

Not a kiss… he would never rush such a perfect moment

The ocean calms, you ability nullifies

Now that you’re dating, the question are WORSE

“Did you change the atoms in my brain so I love you?” “One, no. Two, that’s not how love works!”

Brags to everyone, even if it’s annoying

Just adores you

Thinks he could die happy

Although, he’d much rather live to love you

Makes sure that all your missions are local so he can get to you incase electrons start buzzing around

Calls you dumb things, stupid science jokes, it’s a headache

Overall, so smart but sooo stupid

𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶

Thinks you’re the coolest!

Likes to think your abilities are similar and you two have a connection

Also… a bit dumb

So he asks so many questions

What, he’s fascinated with you and he wants to know as much as he can

“Valence electrons? What?” “What do ya mean I can’t see em? Too small?”

Even if he’s technically the strongest in the entire Port Mafia, thinks you’re better

I mean, he can control gravity but you can manipulate matter!

Thinks that you’re a gift for all his years of hell and unluckiness

Even if you’re just a friend… for now

Never EVER lets you go on missions alone

Makes sure at least one of his trusted subordinates is with you

And if that can’t happen, he’ll make sure Mori gives Chuuya you’re a dangerous work

He’ll miss sleep to take your work, just so you’re safe

If you’re ever overwhelmed, he’ll float you off the ground

Makes sure that you can calm down

Maybe it’s the air higher up, maybe the scenery?

Or… maybe it’s his arms wrapped tight around you

He realizes during one of these moments how much he loves you

“Shh, it’s okay. You ability is stable and you’re safe.”

After asking Kouyou for advice, he’s ready to confess

Buys roses, wine, a jazz record, and a little stuffed animal

Knocks on your apartment when…

You open the door… looking stunning.

“Chuuya? What’re you doing here?”

A gorgeous red outfit, styled hair and makeup. He used his ability to float the gifts to the ceiling so you wouldn’t see.

“Oh… you look pret- I mean! You’re so dressed up.”

“Yeah… was about to leave.”

His heart sunk, although his cheeks warmed at the sight of you in such a beautiful outfit.

“Do you have a date?”

“Date? No, I don’t.”

What a relief!

“Well, what’s the occasion?”

“… I really like you Chuuya! I was gonna try and find you at work now!”

Oh woah… did he just die and go to heaven?

Gives you the sweetest kiss (It’s definitely his first)

Now that you’re dating, he spoils you

Remember how no one is allowed to put you in danger?

Before, he’d let other watch you

But now he’ll clear his day just for your safety

Tries to learn as much as he can about science so he can talk with you even more

“Damn it… electron sea? I thought we had seven seas already?”

Overall? Perfect 11/10

[amethystarachnid]

Thank you for writing my little Tony story 🤍

If it's not too much, can you write a second part for me please? Tony and reader finding out the baby's gender, Tony surprising her with a beautiful surprise proposal, maybe the other Anvegers can even help 🤍 the marriage and the baby's birth? 🤍🤍🤍 I lobe family man Tony too, it's so cute 🤍🤍🤍

Thank you!

ACCIDENTS HAPPEN - part II

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: normal request

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 6.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: it's almost time for the baby's arrival so Tony decides that it's the perfect time to propose, as he drops to one knee you're sure you've found your happy ending,

ᯓ★ TW(s): childbirth

ᯓ★ I love family man Tony so much, matter of fact, I love every character seen as a family man I don't know why lol.

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The baby shower is shaping up to be a bigger event than you ever expected, though you probably should’ve seen it coming. With the Avengers involved, nothing is ever subtle. Tony, of course, is no help in scaling things back. In fact, he’s leaning into the chaos, throwing out extravagant suggestions like hiring live performers or setting up a drone fireworks display. You shoot most of his ideas down, insisting that this is a baby shower, not a red-carpet event.

Still, the excitement is infectious. Natasha takes charge of the planning—she’s surprisingly good at it, efficient and precise, down to the last detail. She ropes Bruce into helping, and the two of them become the only ones who know the baby’s gender. The rest of the team, including you and Tony, are kept in the dark, much to Tony’s annoyance.

“I don’t see why I can’t bribe Banner,” Tony grumbles one afternoon as he paces the kitchen. “He’s a terrible liar, anyway. A few drinks, a little sweet-talking, and he’d spill.”

“Good luck with that,” you reply with a smirk, stirring a cup of tea. “Natasha would kill him if he said anything. And you know she could.”

“Fair point,” Tony concedes, though he still looks annoyed. “Still, I’m calling it now: it’s a girl. She’s going to be brilliant, gorgeous, and way too smart for her own good. Just like her mom.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, really? Because I’m thinking it’s a boy. Stubborn, full of energy, and probably way too much like you.”

“Not possible,” he says with mock seriousness. “There’s only room for one of me in this world.”

Clint chimes in later that evening when the team gathers in the common room, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he munches on a bag of chips. “I’m betting on a boy,” he says, pointing a chip in your direction. “Gotta have someone to teach archery to. Plus, Stark with a son? That’s comedy gold.”

Thor, who’s been helping decorate the living room with streamers and balloons (many of which are Asgardian-sized), disagrees. “A daughter would be most fitting,” he declares, his voice booming. “She will have the strength of her father and the grace of her mother. A true warrior!”

Steve, predictably, tries to stay neutral. “I think you’ll be happy no matter what,” he says diplomatically, though there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes as he looks at Tony. “That said, I wouldn’t mind seeing Stark try to handle a teenage girl someday.”

“God help us,” Natasha mutters with a smirk.

On the day of the baby shower, the compound is transformed. There are decorations everywhere—streamers in pastel pinks and blues, balloons shaped like baby bottles, and a banner reading Welcome, Baby Stark! stretched across the main wall. The table is laden with food, drinks, and an elaborate cake that looks too beautiful to eat. There’s even a pile of gifts in the corner, ranging from practical items like diapers and onesies to absurdly expensive gadgets Tony probably ordered himself.

Natasha and Bruce are the picture of calm, though you know they’ve been coordinating the big reveal for weeks. The two of them exchange knowing looks every time someone tries to guess the baby’s gender, clearly enjoying their role as gatekeepers of the secret.

The main event comes after everyone’s had their fill of food and games, including a hilariously chaotic round of diaper-changing races featuring Steve and Thor. Natasha steps forward, holding a small box wrapped in neutral-colored paper. She taps a spoon against her glass to get everyone’s attention.

“All right, everyone, it’s time,” she says, her tone firm but playful. “Y/N, Tony, come up here.”

You exchange a glance with Tony, who’s grinning like a kid at Christmas, and follow Natasha to the front of the room. Bruce joins her, carrying what looks like a smoke cannon with pastel-colored confetti inside.

“Are we sure Banner knows how to use that?” Tony whispers to you, earning a chuckle.

Natasha ignores him and gestures for Bruce to hand the cannon to Tony. “This is simple,” she says. “On the count of three, you twist it. The confetti will tell you the gender. Got it?”

“Got it,” Tony says, his grip tightening on the cannon. He looks at you, his grin softening into something tender. “Ready, sweetheart?”

“Ready,” you reply, your heart pounding.

The room buzzes with anticipation as Natasha begins the countdown. “Three… two… one!”

Tony twists the cannon, and an explosion of pink confetti fills the air, raining down in a sparkling shower. The room erupts into cheers, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at the cloud of pink with wide eyes.

“A girl,” you whisper, your voice breaking slightly as the reality sinks in. “We’re having a girl.”

Tony turns to you, his grin splitting his face as he pulls you into his arms. “I told you,” he says, laughing as he spins you around. “I knew it!”

You’re laughing now too, tears streaming down your cheeks as the team gathers around, offering congratulations and playful jabs. Thor claps Tony on the back hard enough to make him stumble, while Clint pretends to look disappointed but quickly admits, “She’s probably gonna be cooler than a boy anyway.”

Natasha smirks, crossing her arms. “Told you it was worth the wait.”

As the excitement settles and the confetti begins to drift to the floor, Tony kneels in front of you, his hands resting gently on your growing belly. He looks up at you, his expression soft and filled with a kind of awe that takes your breath away.

“Hey, baby girl,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “It’s official now. You’ve got one hell of a team waiting for you out here. But you know what? Your mom and I? We’re the lucky ones.”

Your heart swells, and you reach down to run your fingers through his hair. In that moment, surrounded by your friends, your family, and the overwhelming love in Tony’s eyes, you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

The nursery preparation becomes a joint project, though you suspect Tony might be using it as an excuse to turn every design meeting into a spectacle. It starts with a simple conversation over breakfast about colors and furniture, but within hours, Tony’s drawing up blueprints for a room so high-tech it could double as a lab.

“Tony,” you say, leaning over his shoulder as he sketches a design for a mobile with holographic planets orbiting a glowing star. “This is a nursery, not the International Space Station.”

He turns to you with an exaggerated look of shock. “Why settle for ordinary when our baby can have the universe in her room? Imagine it—she’ll look up and be inspired every night.”

You can’t help but smile, even as you roll your eyes. “She’s not going to care about any of this for at least a few years. Let’s focus on a crib that doesn’t look like it’s from the future, okay?”

“Compromise,” he says with a smirk. “The crib will be traditional. The rest? Cutting-edge Stark tech.”

Choosing the color scheme turns into its own adventure. You veto pink almost immediately, wanting something more neutral and calming. “What about soft blues and grays?” you suggest one afternoon as you hold up a paint swatch.

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Blues and grays? What is she, a baby or a Zen monk? Let’s go bold—deep purples, maybe some gold accents.”

“She’s a baby,” you remind him with a laugh. “She needs soothing, not a nightclub.”

Eventually, you settle on a compromise: a soft starry theme with muted blues, silvers, and whites, accented by golden stars and constellations painted along the walls. Tony insists on installing a custom ceiling projector that will display a moving galaxy, complete with twinkling stars and nebulae, for bedtime. You draw the line at installing an AI assistant in the room—at least for now.

The naming debate, however, proves to be even more challenging.

It starts casually one evening as you both lounge on the couch, flipping through baby name books. “Okay,” you say, running your finger down a list. “How about something classic? Elizabeth? Grace?”

Tony shakes his head. “Too stuffy. She’s going to be a Stark; she needs something unique. How about Nova?”

You pause, considering it. “Nova’s not bad,” you admit. “But it feels… incomplete.”

Tony grins. “Well, it’s lightyears ahead of Grace.”

You toss a pillow at him, laughing. “Fine. What else have you got, Mr. Genius?”

He leans back, pretending to think deeply. “Aurora. You know, like the northern lights.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Beautiful, but maybe a bit too Disney princess?”

The conversation goes on like this for days. Tony throws out names like Vega, Lyra, and Andromeda, while you try to steer him toward something more grounded. Neither of you seems willing to budge, though secretly you both enjoy the banter.

It’s during one of these discussions, late at night, that the perfect name finally emerges.

You’re lying in bed, the lights dimmed, and Tony’s hand rests protectively over your belly as he rambles about constellations. “Sirius is too much,” he says, more to himself than to you. “But it’d be cool if we could tie it back to something celestial. Something meaningful.”

You hum in agreement, half-asleep, when a thought strikes you. “Stella,” you say softly, testing the name on your tongue.

Tony freezes, then sits up slightly to look at you. “Stella,” he repeats, his voice thoughtful. “Latin for ‘star.’ Simple, beautiful, and meaningful. I love it.”

You smile, your heart warming at his reaction. “You really like it?”

“I don’t just like it,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “It’s perfect. Stella Stark. Our little star.”

The next morning, you tell the rest of the team about the name, and everyone agrees it’s fitting. Thor, especially, is thrilled. “A name worthy of the cosmos!” he declares, raising his coffee mug like a goblet.

Even Clint, who usually teases Tony at every opportunity, nods in approval. “Stella’s solid,” he says. “Classy, but not pretentious. Good pick.”

As the nursery nears completion and Stella’s name starts appearing on everything—from personalized blankets to a tiny plaque above the crib—you find yourself growing more excited with each passing day. The walls are painted, the furniture is assembled, and Tony’s holographic mobile is, admittedly, a work of art.

One evening, as you both stand in the finished nursery, Tony wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. “You know,” he murmurs, looking around at the room, “we might’ve gone a little overboard.”

“A little,” you agree, though you can’t help but smile.

“But she’s worth it,” he adds, his voice soft as he rests his forehead against yours.

“She is,” you whisper, your heart full.

As the galaxy projector casts a soft glow of stars across the ceiling, you know that Stella is already surrounded by more love and wonder than you ever could’ve imagined.

The shift in behavior starts subtly. At first, you think you’re imagining it—the way Natasha ends phone calls the moment you enter the room or how Clint suddenly has a reason to leave anytime you try to ask what he and Tony were whispering about. Even Steve, who’s usually a beacon of honesty, seems unusually tight-lipped when you catch him and Bruce exchanging cryptic looks during a mission debrief.

Tony, of course, is no better. If anything, he’s the most suspicious of them all. Normally, he shares every detail of his day with you, but lately, he’s been “working late” more often than usual. When you ask what he’s working on, his answers are evasive, laced with a nonchalance that you don’t buy for a second.

“Just tweaking some tech,” he says one evening, typing furiously on a holographic keyboard that he closes the moment you approach. “You know, the usual.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “The usual doesn’t usually involve secretive meetings with the entire team or you hiding your screens from me.”

Tony looks up, flashing you one of his patented grins. “Paranoid much, sweetheart? Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones.”

You roll your eyes, but you let it slide—for now.

The day of the proposal dawns like any other. You wake up to the sound of Tony humming softly beside you, his hand resting protectively over your belly, and you can’t help but smile at the sight of him. At seven months pregnant, your body feels heavier and more tired than usual, but Tony’s been nothing if not attentive—sometimes to the point of hovering. Still, there’s something in his gaze this morning, a kind of nervous energy that makes you suspicious.

“What’s with the grin?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as he leans in to kiss your forehead.

“No grin,” he says, though the corners of his mouth betray him. “Just appreciating how stunning you look, as always.”

“Mmhmm,” you murmur, giving him a skeptical look. “If you’re planning something, Stark, I’ll figure it out.”

He smirks, leaning down to kiss your belly. “No secrets here, baby girl. Daddy’s just got work to do today.”

That afternoon, Natasha convinces you to go out for some “girl time,” which in itself feels suspicious. Nat rarely suggests spa days or shopping trips, but she waves off your questions with a smirk.

“Can’t a friend treat her very pregnant bestie to some pampering?” she says, steering you toward the door. “Besides, it’s not like you have anything better to do while Tony tinkers in the lab.”

By the time you return to the compound, you’re relaxed but even more curious. The hallways are quiet—too quiet—and the usual buzz of activity is strangely absent. As Natasha leads you toward the common area, your suspicions grow.

“What’s going on?” you ask, stopping in your tracks. “Why do I feel like I’m walking into an ambush?”

Natasha just smirks, tugging you forward. “You’ll see.”

The doors to the common area slide open, and your breath catches. The room is transformed. Soft, glowing lights hang from the ceiling like stars, casting a warm, ethereal glow. A pathway lined with rose petals leads to the center of the room, where Tony stands in a perfectly tailored suit, looking more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. Behind him, the rest of the Avengers stand in a loose semicircle, all wearing knowing smiles.

“Tony,” you whisper, your heart pounding as Natasha gives you a gentle nudge forward.

He takes a step toward you, his usual confidence tempered by the kind of vulnerability he rarely shows. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, it’s like the rest of the world fades away.

“Y/N,” he begins, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “You’ve already given me so much. You’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be, and in just a couple of months, you’re going to give me the greatest gift of all—our daughter.”

You feel tears welling up as he continues, his hand reaching out to take yours. “But before she gets here, I want to give you something, too. I want to give you my heart, my name, my everything. I want us to be a family, officially, because… well, because I love you more than words can ever say.”

He drops to one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket and opening it to reveal a dazzling engagement ring. The diamond sparkles like a star, and you can’t help but gasp.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice soft but firm, “will you marry me?”

For a moment, you’re too overwhelmed to speak. Tears spill down your cheeks as you nod, a laugh bubbling up through your emotions. “Yes,” you finally manage, your voice breaking. “Yes, Tony, of course!”

Tony’s grin is so wide it looks like it might split his face. He slides the ring onto your finger, his hands trembling slightly, and then he’s standing, pulling you into his arms. He holds you close, burying his face in your hair as you cling to him.

“You’re crying,” you murmur against his shoulder, your voice teasing despite your own tears.

“I am not,” he protests, though his voice wavers. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes glistening. “Okay, maybe a little. But don’t tell anyone, all right? I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

You laugh, wiping at your own tears as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. Behind you, the Avengers erupt into cheers and applause, Clint letting out a loud wolf whistle while Thor raises his hammer in triumph.

“About time!” Clint calls out, grinning from ear to ear.

Natasha smirks, her arms crossed. “Told you she’d say yes.”

Later that evening, as you sit together in the nursery, the engagement ring glittering on your finger and Tony’s hand resting over your belly, you can’t help but marvel at how far you’ve come. He looks at you like you’re his entire world, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like nothing could ever go wrong.

“You’re happy,” you say softly, studying his face.

Tony looks at you, his expression filled with a love so deep it takes your breath away. “I’m more than happy,” he says, his voice low and earnest. “You and Stella… you’re everything I never knew I needed.”

You lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder as the baby kicks gently against his hand. “We love you too,” you whisper, and in that moment, the universe feels just right.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day starts out completely normal—or at least as normal as life gets when you’re living with Tony Stark and the Avengers. You’re lounging on the couch, rubbing your enormous belly, when you feel the first contraction. It’s mild, more like a cramp than anything else, but enough to make you pause mid-sentence while you’re trying to convince Tony that the name Stella is not negotiable for her middle name.

“Everything okay?” Tony asks, looking up from where he’s fiddling with one of his many gadgets.

You nod, brushing it off. “Yeah, just… I think she’s practicing her escape plan.”

Tony chuckles. “Smart kid. Of course, she’s my daughter. She’s already planning ahead.”

You roll your eyes but let the moment pass. That is until another contraction hits—not unbearable, but definitely noticeable. You wince, shifting in your seat.

Tony’s eyes narrow. “Okay, that wasn’t just a practice run. What’s going on?”

You try to play it cool. “I think it might be starting, but it’s fine. First labors take a while. No need to—”

But before you can finish, Tony is up and moving like the house is on fire. “FRIDAY! Get the car! Clear a path! Call Banner! Wait, no, call Bruce AND the hospital! Get Nat to pack a bag—do we have a bag? Where’s the bag?”

You laugh despite yourself, waving a hand to calm him down. “Tony, relax. I’m not even sure it’s—”

Tony is already pacing, pulling his phone out to make calls. “Relax? RELAX? You’re about to bring an entire human into the world, and you want me to relax? You know who doesn’t relax? Tony Stark. I plan. I execute.” He points to your belly. “That tiny genius in there is counting on me!”

Another contraction interrupts your attempt to reassure him, this one stronger than before. You grip the edge of the couch, exhaling sharply. Tony’s eyes go wide, and his face pales.

“That’s it,” he declares. “We’re going now. FRIDAY, where’s the car?”

By the time you get to the hospital, Tony’s nerves are a full-blown circus. He’s barking orders at the nurses, double-checking every piece of equipment they wheel past, and generally acting like a man whose entire world is on the brink of chaos.

“Are those sterilized?” he asks one poor nurse, gesturing to a tray of instruments. “Because I know a guy who can check for microscopic contaminants.”

“Tony,” you groan from the wheelchair they’ve put you in. “Let the professionals do their job.”

“Right,” he says, nodding quickly. “Right. Sorry. Carry on.”

Once you’re settled in the delivery room, the contractions intensify, and so does Tony’s panic. He’s pacing again, alternating between squeezing your hand and apologizing for squeezing your hand too hard.

“Why is this taking so long?” he mutters, glancing at the clock. “Is there a way to, I don’t know, speed this up? I mean, we’ve got science, right? Lasers? Something?”

Your labor nurse gives him a patient smile. “Babies come on their own time, Mr. Stark.”

Tony points at her, dead serious. “I’ll have you know I’ve streamlined multi-billion-dollar manufacturing processes. I could totally streamline—”

“Tony!” you snap, gripping his hand through another contraction. “If you don’t stop talking about lasers and streamlining, I’m going to throw you out of this room.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says quickly, wincing as your grip tightens. “You’re doing great, by the way. Absolutely phenomenal. Ten out of ten.”

As the hours pass, Tony alternates between being overly helpful and hilariously unhelpful. At one point, he tries to "coach" you through the contractions, repeating advice he clearly Googled five minutes earlier.

“Breathe, babe,” he says, crouching next to you. “In through the nose, out through the—OW!” He yelps as you squeeze his hand, your patience wearing thin.

“I am breathing!” you growl. “You breathe!”

“Right, got it,” he says, shaking out his hand. “I’ll breathe quieter.”

By the time you’re ready to push, Tony looks like he’s aged ten years. His hair is a mess, his suit jacket is nowhere to be seen, and he’s nervously chewing on his bottom lip as if he’s the one doing all the hard work.

“Okay,” the doctor says. “It’s time to meet your baby. Dad, are you ready?”

Tony blinks, his face going pale again. “Wait, me? What am I supposed to do?”

“Just stay next to me and try not to pass out,” you deadpan, glaring at him through gritted teeth.

The actual delivery feels like a blur, but Tony’s reactions are crystal clear. As soon as Stella’s first cry fills the room, he freezes, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and disbelief. The doctor places her on your chest, and you look down at the tiny, wriggling bundle of perfection. Tears stream down your face as you cradle her, overwhelmed with love.

Tony leans over, his hands hovering awkwardly as if he’s afraid to touch her. “She’s… she’s perfect,” he whispers, his voice cracking.

You glance up at him, smiling through your tears. “She is.”

He swallows hard, blinking rapidly as if trying to fight back tears of his own. “I’m not crying,” he mutters, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s just… dusty in here.”

“Sure, Tony,” you say, laughing softly. “Whatever you say.”

He finally reaches out, gently running a finger along Stella’s tiny hand. When she grips his finger, his face lights up like you’ve never seen before.

“Hi, baby girl,” he murmurs, his voice trembling. “It’s me. Your dad. I’m the guy who’s going to spoil you rotten and probably embarrass you in front of all your friends someday.”

You laugh again, your heart so full it feels like it might burst. As Tony leans down to kiss your forehead, then Stella’s, you know this moment—this messy, chaotic, perfect moment—is one you’ll never forget.

The ride home is surprisingly smooth, considering Tony’s usual flair for drama. He insists on driving, despite your gentle protests, and the way he handles the car like it’s made of glass is almost endearing. Stella, snug in her carrier, sleeps through the whole thing, her tiny face scrunched in a way that makes your heart ache with love.

“Are you sure she’s breathing?” Tony asks for the third time, glancing back at her in the rearview mirror.

“Yes, Tony,” you reply, trying not to laugh. “Babies sleep. It’s kind of their thing.”

He huffs, clearly unsatisfied. “Well, it’s nerve-wracking. I’m used to things that come with a manual, not ones that just… exist and rely on me not to screw up.”

“She’ll be fine,” you reassure him, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “We’ll figure it out together.”

The Avengers are waiting when you arrive at the compound, their faces pressed against the windows like eager kids waiting for Santa. Even Clint, who normally pretends to be too cool for this sort of thing, looks uncharacteristically excited.

The moment you step inside, carrying Stella in her carrier, they descend like a swarm.

“Oh my God, she’s so tiny!” Natasha coos, her usual stoicism replaced with pure, unfiltered awe. “Look at her little hands.”

Steve grins, leaning down to get a better look. “She’s beautiful,” he says warmly, his voice tinged with a kind of reverence.

“She’s definitely got your nose, Y/N,” Bruce chimes in, smiling shyly. “Lucky kid.”

Even Clint, who’d joked for months about how he wasn’t going to fawn over “just another Stark,” can’t help but soften. “She’s pretty cute,” he admits, though his grin betrays his attempt at nonchalance.

“Cute?” Tony cuts in, feigning offense. “Try perfect. Absolute masterpiece. My finest work.”

You roll your eyes, laughing. “She’s not one of your inventions, Tony.”

“No,” he agrees, his gaze softening as he looks at Stella. “She’s better.”

Thor, meanwhile, looms in the background, looking uncharacteristically nervous. You catch him shifting his weight from foot to foot, his brows furrowed as he watches the others coo and fuss over Stella.

“Thor,” you call gently, motioning him over. “Do you want to meet her?”

He hesitates, his usual bravado replaced with uncertainty. “I am unsure,” he admits, his voice low. “She is so small. What if I… break her?”

Tony snorts. “Relax, Point Break. She’s sturdier than she looks.”

Thor’s eyes widen. “Are you certain? For I have been told I am… exuberant in my movements.”

You can’t help but smile. “You’ll be fine. Just be gentle.”

Carefully, you unbuckle Stella from her carrier and place her in Thor’s massive hands. He cradles her like she’s made of glass, his expression a mix of awe and terror.

“She is… radiant,” he says after a moment, his voice soft. “A tiny warrior in the making.”

Stella squirms, letting out a small gurgle, and Thor immediately panics. “What is this sound? Is she displeased? Have I offended her?”

You laugh, taking her back before his nerves get the better of him. “She’s just waking up. You did great, Thor.”

He exhales in relief, looking visibly proud despite his earlier fear. “Then I shall strive to earn her favor, as a worthy uncle should.”

As the evening wears on, the Avengers take turns holding Stella, each of them surprisingly adept in their own way. Natasha rocks her gently, whispering something soft and sweet in Russian. Steve looks completely at ease, cradling her with a quiet confidence that makes you wonder if he’s done this before. Bruce hums softly, his gentle demeanor soothing Stella when she stirs.

Clint, ever the showman, gets her to grab his finger and immediately declares, “She likes me best. Sorry, everyone else.”

Even Thor eventually works up the courage to hold her again, this time with less fear and more awe.

Tony, meanwhile, hovers nearby, alternating between beaming with pride and trying to direct everyone on the proper way to hold her.

“Support her head,” he says for the fifth time, gesturing like he’s leading a workshop. “And don’t jostle her too much. She’s had a big day.”

“Tony,” you say, placing a hand on his arm to calm him. “She’s fine. Look at her—she’s surrounded by love.”

He glances around the room, taking in the sight of his teammates—his family—cooing and fussing over Stella. His shoulders relax, and a small, genuine smile tugs at his lips.

“Yeah,” he says softly, slipping an arm around your waist. “She’s going to be okay.”

You lean into him, watching as Stella lets out a tiny yawn, completely unfazed by the chaos around her. In this moment, surrounded by your unconventional but loving family, you know she’s going to grow up in the best possible way.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day is perfect—blue skies, warm sunlight, and the hum of excitement in the air as friends and family gather in the garden of the Stark estate for the wedding. You stand in the bridal suite, adjusting the lace sleeves of your gown, the soft fabric hugging your body comfortably enough to accommodate the postpartum changes you’re still embracing. In your arms, Stella squirms, her tiny hands tugging at the delicate veil trailing over your shoulder.

“Mommy’s trying to look fancy,” you murmur, kissing her chubby cheek. “Try not to drool too much on the dress, okay?”

Natasha appears in the doorway, dressed elegantly in a flowing gown but still managing to radiate her usual aura of cool confidence. “Ready to knock Tony off his feet?” she asks with a smirk.

You laugh nervously. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Natasha leans in to take a peek at Stella, who’s now gnawing on her fingers. “And what about you, little one? Ready to steal the show?”

“She’s been ready since birth,” you say, smiling fondly. “I just hope she doesn’t start screaming halfway down the aisle.”

The music starts—soft, romantic, and unmistakably orchestrated to perfection because, of course, Tony insisted on hiring the best string quartet money could buy. You step out into the aisle, holding Stella securely against your chest.

All eyes are on you, but your gaze locks instantly with Tony’s. He’s standing at the altar in a sharp tuxedo, his hair immaculately styled, but it’s his expression that floors you. His eyes are shining, his lips trembling slightly as he takes you in—his fiancée, his daughter in your arms, walking toward him like a vision straight out of his dreams.

When you’re halfway down the aisle, you catch him discreetly wiping at his eyes, though his attempt to play it cool is utterly transparent. You can’t help but smile.

“Crying already?” you tease softly as you reach the altar.

Tony’s voice cracks as he replies, “It’s allergies. Don’t get used to it.”

The officiant clears his throat, gesturing for everyone to sit. You pass Stella to Natasha, who holds her with practiced ease, but not before Tony sneaks a kiss to his daughter’s forehead. “Don’t cause too much trouble for Aunt Nat, okay?” he whispers.

The ceremony is beautiful, filled with laughter, a few tears, and vows that manage to be both heartfelt and hilariously Tony.

“I promise to always make you laugh,” he says, his voice soft but steady. “To build you anything you need—even if it’s just a better coffee maker. And I promise that no matter how big our family gets or how crazy life becomes, you’ll always be the center of my world.”

You smile, your heart full as you reply, “And I promise to keep you grounded—even when you’re flying. To stand by you, even when you’re being insufferable. And to love you, completely, for the genius, ridiculous, wonderful man that you are.”

The guests cheer when you kiss, and you can hear Clint shouting something about “finally making an honest man out of Stark,” but you’re too caught up in the moment to care. Tony’s hands are on your waist, his forehead pressed to yours as he whispers, “You’re stuck with me now, Mrs. Stark.”

The reception is lively, filled with laughter and champagne toasts, but the true star of the evening is Stella. At six months old, she’s the smallest guest but easily the most adored. She’s passed from one Avenger to the next, each of them taking turns cooing and playing with her. Steve lets her grab at his finger, grinning like a proud uncle. Bruce gently bounces her on his knee, her giggles drawing smiles from everyone around. Even Thor takes a turn, holding her aloft and declaring her “the mightiest of babes” before you quickly retrieve her, worried he might throw her like Mjolnir.

Despite the joy of the day, you and Tony find yourselves constantly glancing toward wherever Stella is. When you see her reaching for a cupcake, her tiny hand almost toppling the entire dessert tower, you excuse yourself mid-conversation to intercept.

“She’s got your appetite,” you say, placing Stella in her high chair and handing her a safer option—a teething biscuit.

“And your stubbornness,” Tony adds, crouching next to you to adjust her little headband. He kisses her forehead before looking up at you, his expression soft. “We did pretty good, didn’t we?”

You smile, leaning down to kiss him. “We did amazing.”

As the night winds down, you dance with Tony under the fairy lights, Stella dozing peacefully in Natasha’s arms nearby.

“Today was perfect,” you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder.

Tony pulls you closer, his hand warm on your back. “Because of you,” he murmurs. “You and Stella—you’re my whole world.”

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, your heart swelling with love. “And you’re ours.”

The music swells, and for a moment, it’s just the three of you in your own little world, the rest of the party fading into the background.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Four years later

Four years later, the Stark household is as lively as ever. Stella, now a spirited and endlessly curious four-year-old, is the undeniable star of the compound. She’s sharp like her dad, determined like her mom, and, to everyone’s ongoing astonishment, utterly enamored with Thor.

“Where is Uncle Thor?” Stella demands one morning, her tiny hands on her hips in a perfect mimicry of your stance when you're irritated. “He promised we’d go find worms for the garden!”

You chuckle as you rest a hand on your growing belly. “Honey, Uncle Thor’s busy with work. He can’t always come running every time you call.”

“Why not?” she counters, pouting. “He’s the Mighty Thor. He’s not too busy for me.”

You shake your head, smiling. “You’ve got your daddy’s charm, you know that?”

Tony walks in just in time to hear the exchange, a cup of coffee in one hand and a slightly sour expression on his face. “I don’t know what he’s done to brainwash her, but I don’t like it,” he grumbles, leaning down to kiss your cheek before ruffling Stella’s hair.

“Uncle Thor is the best!” Stella declares, throwing her arms up dramatically. “He’s teaching me how to lift Mjolnir!”

“Is he now?” Tony says, narrowing his eyes. “I thought I told him no godly powers until after kindergarten.”

Later that afternoon, Thor arrives as promised, and Stella runs to greet him, her excitement so infectious even Tony can’t entirely suppress a grin. Thor sweeps her up, spinning her around like she weighs nothing.

“Ah, my favorite little warrior!” Thor booms. “Are you ready to brave the wilderness?”

“Yes!” Stella squeals, clutching onto him tightly. “Let’s go, Uncle Thor!”

“Wilderness?” Tony interjects, crossing his arms. “You mean my backyard?”

Thor just grins. “Every great adventure starts somewhere, Stark.”

As they head outside, you and Tony watch from the window, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders.

“I can’t believe she picked him as her favorite,” Tony says with mock despair. “What does he have that I don’t?”

“A magic hammer?” you suggest, smirking.

Tony gasps in mock offense. “Unbelievable. After all I’ve done for her.”

“Don’t worry,” you tease, patting your belly. “Maybe this little guy will be Team Dad.”

Tony’s face softens immediately, his free hand coming to rest gently on your growing bump. “He better be,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss it. “Otherwise, I’ll have to build another suit—Baby Iron Man Edition.”

Stella eventually drags Thor back inside, both of them covered in dirt but grinning like co-conspirators. Thor greets your belly with a reverent nod, placing a hand on it like he’s bestowing a blessing. “He stirs with strength already,” he declares. “A future warrior.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “He’s not even born yet, Point Break. Let’s not start handing out titles.”

Stella crawls onto the couch next to you, her small hands carefully pressing against your belly. “Mommy, when will the baby come out?”

“In a few months, sweetie,” you say, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “He needs to grow a little more before he’s ready.”

“Will he be bigger than me?”

“Not at first,” Tony interjects, scooping her up onto his lap. “But don’t worry, Stella. You’ll always be the boss. It’s your job to teach him everything you know.”

Stella beams at that, puffing out her chest. “I’m going to be the best big sister ever.”

Tony chuckles, kissing her on the forehead. “I have no doubt.”

The rest of the day is filled with the usual chaos—Stella insisting she help with dinner (which mostly means spilling flour everywhere), Thor recounting dramatic tales of Asgardian battles to an enraptured audience, and Tony tinkering in his lab while occasionally glancing over to check on you.

Later that night, as you’re tucking Stella into bed, she clings to your arm, her wide eyes full of curiosity.

“Mommy?” she asks softly. “Do you think the baby will like Uncle Thor too?”

You laugh, stroking her hair. “Probably. But I think he’s going to like you the most.”

Her face lights up, and she snuggles deeper into her blankets. “Good. I’ll share Uncle Thor with him, but only a little.”

After kissing her goodnight, you return to the living room, where Tony is waiting on the couch, a glass of sparkling water in hand for you.

“Is she down?” he asks, pulling you gently into his side as you sink onto the cushions.

“Out like a light,” you reply, taking the glass. “She was asking if the baby will like Thor.”

Tony groans, tipping his head back dramatically. “That man is a menace.”

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. “You know you love how happy he makes her.”

Tony’s arm tightens around you, his voice softening. “Yeah, I do. But you know what makes me happiest?”

“What?”

“This,” he says, resting his hand on your bump again. “All of us. Together.”

You smile, your heart full as you lean into him. “Me too.”

[lanabuckybarnes]

Empty words.

This has been in my drafts for a bit but it's rotting my brain. I’m sad so I’m making everyone else sad.

Fluff with a sad end. I’m not that good at writing angst.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Insinuated character death?

ALWAYS (Sequal)

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

It was no secret that Bucky had the heart eyes for the little nurse who had just transferred. The way her bright eyes were permanently blown wide giving her that scared little doe look or the way she still looked adorable covered in someone's blood, he couldn’t decide what had made him fall into the jaws of love.

Or maybe it was that time she’d saved his ass, yeah, it was probably that.

Bucky had been out on the frontline when a single wrong move had cost him, a bullet lodged itself straight in the shoulder, only a centimetre from his beating heart. For 3 days he’d been out due to an infection racking his body, punishment for not seeking adequate treatment once it had occurred but when he awoke with a startle and his eyes laid on her soft-looking features he decided that maybe almost dying was worth it.

What he didn’t expect was for his pretty little nurse to be so damn stubborn when it came to his advances.

For the entire time he was in the infirmary he’d tried to wow her with that silver tongue of his, from promises to take her dancing to much more sinful ones— he’d tried it all and she still said no. This would be harder than what he thought.

After having to be practically kicked out of his infirmary bed she’d started receiving small gifts. A single rose appeared first and she’d inhaled its soft scent with a smile before placing it down to complete her paperwork.

A small collection of ration chocolate was next, a sweet gesture that she’d gladly gulped down late at night while reading her favourite novel.

Her favourite though had to be a beautiful handwritten note, the contents filled with words that no other man could ever think of much less write it down. His words were poet-like, she could feel herself begin to swoon.

Eventually, the anonymous sender had bucked up the confidence to deliver his letters by hand, who would’ve guessed it would’ve been the smart-mouthed Sargent? They’d finished that night on the grassy hills of the base, a flask of malt between them, his thick coat around her body while she rested her head softly against his shoulder.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

The next time they’d found time to meet it was hot, far too hot. The men had stripped down, their military coats strewn about the camp and their shirts unbuttoned. Not Sargent Barnes though. He had a date and he intended to look the part.

What a horrible mistake that was.

She’d gotten away early from her duties at the infirmary. They walked along the beach, the sun high in the sky, it was killing him but he’d be dammed if he let her see.

When she turned from her conversation to look at him, a giggle bubbled from her throat.

“Buck you’re sweating, take off that coat.” The collar and back of it were a deep brown from his sweat.

“Ah ah, I gotta look good for my lady” he retorted, truthfully, he was exhausted under those layers and she refused to let him get sunstroke because he was trying to impress her.

Her fingers made quick work of the gold embellished buttons, popping them one by one before setting her sights on the belt. He couldn’t help but grin.

“You know if you wanted me naked, all you had to do was ask Sweetheart” he teased letting his thumb and forefinger pinch her chin- she returned his affection with a sweaty hand to his face, pushing it away softly.

He’d placed his coat on the sand and guided her to sit, following suit just after. They spoke for a while before Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed, she was squinting in the sun and he didn’t like when she was uncomfortable in any way.

“Here” he mumbled removing his hat and placing it gently atop her head. Although he’d acted nonchalant about the whole gesture, he couldn’t bear to hide the true effect it had on him.

He’d leaned forward slowly, placing a large hand around the back of her neck and swallowing her words in a soft kiss. Their first ever one together.

“Makes me happy when you wear my clothes” his voice hummed against her lips, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah? Why is that?” She’d asked with a shy giggle.

“Yeah… it lets me know that you are mine” he replied, sealing their mouths together again, this one full of raw passion and love.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

The barracks celebrations were in full swing, the reason long forgotten about after a few wines. Bucky had come from nowhere, his big stumbling body now stood in front of her and her friends.

“Hey, sweetheart!” He slurred, his body moving extremely quick for his drunken state, swiping her up from her chair and into a tight embrace. The kind that got tighter the more she struggled.

“Are you having a nice night Buck?” Her hands thread through his short fluffy hair, absentmindedly scratching at his scalp.

“Mhmmm” he hummed, a big jolly smile decorating his handsome features.

“Ladies” he turned his attention to the immaculately dressed women, bowing his head slightly in an expression of greeting.

Where had his hat gone? She found herself wondering.

“Do you mind if I steal this beautiful little lady from you? Just for a dance” he didn’t wait for their response, whisking her away.

There was already a handsome crowd of men dancing to the sweet romantic tunes on the radio with their ladies. They fit in perfectly— Bucky’s inebriation never seemed to affect the precise steps of his feet.

She could just about make out the words falling rhythmically from his lips. He was singing.

Bucky lay his forehead on hers, his feet not faltering, even after the song had long finished he never stopped swaying them.

“You..” his voice was slightly rasped from the whiskey “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me” he eventually whispered.

“Bucky-I”

“Shhhh shhh sh. My girl.” He cut her off, grabbing at her wrists to wrap her arms around his neck. To bring her closer.

“Come on Buck, let’s get you to bed” her words cut the quiet air between them. She had to pry herself from him, his face had melted into a pout. It was as though she was looking at a kicked puppy.

His face didn’t change the whole journey back to his tent.

Most of the men had passed out from their drunkenness but the men who were huddled together playing cards happily pointed her in the direction of the Sargent’s cot.

Making quick work of his clothes, much to Bucky’s drunken amusement. She’d pushed him to lie down and rolled his thin cover over his frame.

She pecked at his forehead, whispering a goodnight before standing to leave.

“Stay…” his hand has caught her wrist. His voice sounded small, almost broken. ‘Was he upset? Was it about his mission tomorrow?’

“I don’t want to go tomorrow, I finally have someone to look forward to. I don’t want to lose you” he sniffed, watching as her frame sank to sit on the edge of his cot.

She smiled sympathetically. Letting her hand come up to his cheek and smooth over the skin, collecting a stray tear on its travels.

“I know baby, but It’s your last mission. Then you can take me back to Brooklyn” she’d answered. She wished to continue, she wanted to say more, to comfort him more— no words would come out.

“I fucking love you” he groaned receiving a soft pat on the chest as she pretended to be angry at him.

“Hey now potty mouth, that is no way to talk in front of a lady” he practically hollered with laughter at that, the sound filled with amusement and disbelief.

“There is no woman in the world that would’ve done the things you’ve done to me and still think she was a lady” he joked, the men behind them laughing along with him.

“Sargent James Barnes” her tone accusing but she couldn’t hide the way her lips curled into a smile.

They’d sat in each other’s presence for a while before she stood, finally convinced he’d fallen asleep.

“Baby?” He asked, the words quiet, whistling the air.

“Yeah?”

“When I get you back to Brooklyn, I’m going to marry you so quick”. She could feel tears springing to her eyes at his confession, a confession she hoped would come true.

She leaned forward quickly, capturing his lips by surprise in a passionate kiss. His lips moved sloppier than usual but he kept up with her.

Pulling away gently she looked into his big blue eyes, no other emotion but love swirled through them. She pecked his lips for a final time before speaking.

“Come back to me James”.

“Always”.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

She’d been sitting at her desk when Steve had entered, a solemn look on his face.

“Steve, hey. Everything alright?” She’d asked with a smile. She took notice of the coat and hat in his hands, her heart fell first, it knew before the rest of her did, he didn’t have to speak.

“I’m sorry” Steve choked, setting down the items in his hand and turning to leave.

His hat, his coat but not him.

Not Bucky.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

I’m trying to practice writing angst but it’s so harddd.

Why oh why must I want to write sadness when all I can write is smut.

Hope you enjoy.