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#Peter's smiles 🥰
vanalex · 4 months
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I can't help it... I'm obsessed with him...
A little "history lesson" (for the ones interested) about how I became a fan of Type O Negative... and my feelings towards them...
When I heard 'my girlfriend's girlfriend ' for the first time in 1996 I was just a teen. Watching MTV in my bedroom. I was, at that time, very much into 60s music and aesthetic. A hippie après la lettre, sort of speak... I was also, for as long as I remember, obsessed with vampires and a huge fan of Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles.
So when this video came on I loved the colorful backdrop and sixties influences. And then there were 4 guys dressed in black, looking like vampires. Especially the singer. I lost it. This was my new favorite band. 🤗
When 'Love you to death' came out I ordered the T-shirt (a girl t-shirt, not the unisex shirts they sell now) via postorder catalogue Large. I loved that T-shirt and would still have it, if my mom didn't throw it out with all my other band shirts, because she thinks you need to keep the economy going by buying new stuff all the time and getting rid of "old" stuff. Insert *dramatic eyeroll*
Type O Negative were not a mainstream band and unfortunately, growing up in a small town, I was about the only one, as far as I know, that liked their music.
So, I completely missed out on their 1999 world coming down release. ☹️
In the early 2000s, a record store in the city where I went to college had a clearance sale. I found the least worst of CD and bought it. Around that same time I bought the After Dark DVD. It was only then that I found out about world coming down. I liked the "new" songs, but also had mixed feelings about them. They depicted an unhealthy lifestyle.
In 2003 'I don't wanna be me' was playing on MTV and I was excited to hear more new music from them and seeing them on MTV again. I remember also being shocked with Peter's appearance in that video. He did not look well... It would become clear he wasn't doing well at all: mental and physical health problems, addiction, jail time, forced rehab, relationship problems, etc...
Later that year Type O Negative came to a festival a few hours driving from where I lived... Unfortunately I had noone to go with and my boyfriend and I were volunteering for a local 'save the forest' non profit that same weekend. I thought I would see them next time, but the same circumstances made me not see them in 2007... 😥
And although Peter looked better (healthier) in the late 2000s, he aged a lot due to his addictions and lifestyle, he also looked kind of sad when he was performing on Wacken in 2007.
When he died in 2010 I initially had peace with it, thinking it was probably for the best.... knowing about his struggles and losses...
I did not know about the circumstances of his death until many years later and since then I've felt it could have been prevented. He did not OD, he did not commit suicide... he was clean for almost a year (!), he looked happy in his last interview 🥹... he died because he didn't receive the correct medical care on time... because he was taking care of his sick cat instead of himself, because the people nearby him didn't help (Did they not see/know how severely ill he was? I guess we'll never know)...
I've always felt like I missed out on something with not seeing Type O Negative live. From all the bands I've listened to as a teen until now, they're the only band that I love more with each time I listen to them. I don't have this kind of connection with other bands/artists... Seeing pictures, videos, ... of them makes me very nostalgic... it feels like they're still around. And then it hits me they're not 😥 I just miss this band a lot and wish we had more years with them, more music...
So... seeing old pictures of them, especially Peter in his more happier and healthier years (everything before world coming down era and even before 1997), makes me feel nostalgic ... "obsessed" ... and the pictures where he smiles are solid gold. 💚
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I wonder... did he ever know how truly special he was ? Handsome, intelligent, goofy, creative, sensitive... I guess he didn't and let his value be determined by others. At least, that's how I interpret some of his lyrics... What do you think about this?
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So, what's your story? Why do you love their music? I would love to find out!
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This last picture is my absolute favorite 💚
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sga-mcshep-4ever · 1 year
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Photo
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// Arin “literally just a happy little kid” Hanson 🥰
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hunterbloodknight · 1 year
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The Doctor - Hold my hand
Clara - I'm okay
The Doctor - I'm not
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thiziri · 2 years
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Newlywed Commander Tim Laurence and Princess Anne posing with their family on their wedding day, on 12 December 1992 🥰❤️
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nmakii · 6 months
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Yan!Alastor with a sweet little doe reader that loves to stay close to them and is rather clingy? Cuddles are a must, light kisses on the chin, wanting to walk together with held hands, physical contact is basically their love language! 🥰 even going for his fluffy ears cause who wouldn’t?? I love your writing btw! It makes me happy whenever you have something new for us ❤️
SAY YOU’LL NEVER LEAVE ME!
— yandere!alastor x clingy!reader
— AGH!! this made me scream thank you sm i love you!!! violence warning! pure yandere fluff 😲
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is in love with how clingy you are! you refuse to leave his side, and he didn’t even need to force you! alastor loves a submissive darling who’d do what he desires without asking
not to mention how innocent you are! how did such a sweet little doe such as yourself get into hell? st. peter must have been mistaken!
because of your pure nature, alastor would only want the best things for his darling! just promise him to be his forever, and the rest of hell will be in the palm of your hand.
alastor himself isn’t one for physical touch though. he doesn’t mind keeping you at his side nor does he mind the kisses, don’t get it wrong, he adores your kisses! touching his ears though may be harder to adjust to.
he hates the reminder that he is a prey animal, he himself enjoys being the predator. your gentle touch against his fluffy ears and antlers as he twitches under your touch makes him quite uncomfortable to the fact you’re touching his weakest and most sensitive spot.
eventually, he grows to accept the fact that to be yours, he must make some sort of sacrifice. and if it’s this, so be it…
although, because of your clingy behavior, it only raises his possessiveness. seeing you even talking to someone else would make his blood boil.
especially if it is someone alastor has conflict with; seeing you even be approached by lucifer or vox would make him jealous; his smile would grow strained, his murderous intent thick in the air, enough to cut with a knife.
against lucifer or fellow overlords, alastor wouldn’t act upon it. despite his huge ego, he knows better than to pick a fight with demons who are more powerful than him.
to those who are lesser than him… unfortunately, they’re not as lucky.
of course though, being the gentleman he is, he refuses to taint your soul with all the carnage and bloodshed he commits to keep you as his sweet doe.
‘LIVE ON AIR’ the neon sign in alastor’s broadcast station lit up as the speakers across pentagram city came to life. a man begging for his life, screaming as various noises were heard. one could only assume the radio demon was tearing his soul to pieces.
the sound of flesh being ripped apart was gruesome as the sinner’s bloodcurdling screams grew weaker. the sound of his corpse being hit against the walls of the station at least 40 times until alastor threw the body onto the floor.
when the man screamed no more, alastor’s voice was heard, sighing deeply, as if all his pent-up stress had just been released before joyful music started playing in the background. “good evening, sinners! take this broadcast as a reminder not to mess with what belongs to me! lest you’d like me to feast on your screams.” alastor warned before he laughed maniacally. and then he was gone once more.
after releasing all of his fury, he returned back to your shared bedroom, his cute little doe in pretty jammies he bought for you. so comfy in bed while hugging a plushie of a manically-cute red kitty, the antlers on its’ head resembling alastor’s. “alastor, what took so long?” you pouted as he began to retire in his nightwear, first taking off his bowtie.
“forgive me, my doe. there were many things to cover tonight on my radio broadcast…” he smiled, pinching your plump cheeks; so yummy and jiggly under his touch. “could i make it up to you tonight?” he smiled widely.
“ugh, then hurry up, please?!” you hit the sheets in frustration. “ahaha… just be patient, my darling.” he patted your head, getting into bed with you. turning off the lights before he wrapped his lanky arms around your waist, burying his face in your hair and leaving a trail of light kisses over your head.
the next time you’d see alastor’s broadcast station, a peculiar skeleton is pinned, adding a grotesque look to the hotel
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tojisun · 2 months
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Godddd please I need more of the Simon orgasm denial!! How did he lose his privileges!? (Its so good 🥰)
!! established dom/sub dynamics, including a primary dom; drawn out sex play; mentioned daddy kink
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cuz he was mean :/
you were such a good pet; writhing on the bed, your body bound and tied, and fat welting underneath the rope. john had been silent at the start, detached and cold, and it had only been the warm hand on your knee that let you know that it was part of the play and not a personal vendetta.
so he didn’t take part in the taking. in simon using your pliant body, hungry and overwhelming with his maw pulled into a snarl because he is a beast; a stalking machine with his master’s permission to do what he must to the pet.
(a pretty canary that willingly lets herself be caged; presents her wings so they get clipped, and tucks her claws away until she is soft and sweet and beautiful and tender.
until she is delectable in her submission.)
simon edged you until you couldn’t understand where pleasure ends and where pain begins. he set your synapses ablaze, and you burned bright and slow, like you were being reduced into tendrils of your undoing.
you begged. you cried and whimpered, calling—not simon’s name, no—for john. calling for—
daddy.
(john smiles, his heart fluttering at the desperation in your call; at the way you come back to him naturally. and simon may be the one fucking you, simon may be the one pulling you apart and fixing you back up, but it’s john that you need.
it’s john who you ask for.)
“wan’ cum. da-ddy,” your voice broke, petering into a hiccuped gasp. “please let m’cum.”
and john loves his canary—flightless bird, so docile even when you’re clipped and declawed—so he gave his permission, grunting out simon’s name to finally let you break into your drawn out euphoria.
but simon didn’t listen; he was deaf to john’s words. and his ignorance had led him to defy john’s authority.
the next minutes were a blur to you, and all you were left with was a promise that things would change from now on. john said this to you while he slowly slid his fingers in your wet cunt, murmuring to you praises and words of adoration, saying how you’ve been so good and beautiful; how john’s never had to doubt your obedience, and how all this would fully be rewarded.
you came with john’s name falling from your lips, and your eyes still locked onto simon’s trembling body on the floor.
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solaireverie · 1 year
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lh44 | all eyes on you, my magician
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pairing: lewis hamilton x f!merc admin!reader
summary: [ social media au ] lewis has a soft spot for the person behind the mercedes account and is a little obvious about it
warnings: one (1) swear word
faceclaim: maisie peters
author's note: it's been a hot minute (two years) since i've written x reader or social media aus, bear with me :) enjoy!
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liked by roscoelovescoco, lewishamilton, yourusername and 704,172 others
tagged: lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco
mercedesamgf1 very important good boy(s) appreciation post ❤️
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roscoelovescoco love's the photos!
liked by mercedesamgf1, yourusername
user all i want to know is who took the first picture 🧐
↪ user same like who got you smiling like that lewis???
yourusername the cutest!! seeing roscoe was truly the highlight of my week
liked by roscoelikescoco, lewishamilton
↪ user lewis whatcha doing in the likes 🤨
↪ user it wasn't just lewis' main he also liked on roscoe's acc 😭 what is going on
↪ user so we're all taking this as yourusername seeing roscoe in person instead of through instagram like the rest of us peasants right?
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liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, yourusername and 814,283 others
tagged: lewishamilton, georgerussell63
mercedesamgf1 #throwbacktuesday to the spanish gp ⏮
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user lewis is so obviously admin's favorite that it's not even funny at this point 💀
↪ user poor george having to thirdwheel whatever admin and lewis have going on
liked by georgerussell63
↪ user george liked??? lewis and admin what do you have to say for yourself
↪ mercedesamgf1 no comment 😜
user okay now i'm curious who exactly runs the merc account?
↪ yourusername 🤭🤭🤭
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liked by yourbestfriend, lewis hamilton, mickschumacher and 234 others
yourusername summer break dump 🌥
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roscoelovescoco we's misses you's!
↪ user we?? we???? roscoe hamilton explain yourself 🎤
↪ yourusername i miss you two too 🫶
↪ user you two???!!! 😳
carmenmmundt don't get attacked by an ostrich xoxo
↪ yourusername i stayed a safe distance away 🫡
↪ carmenmmundt good girl ❤️ proud of you for keeping my darling safe
↪ georgerussell63 ?????????????
liked by lewishamilton
↪ yourusername avert your eyes, georgie boy, avert your eyes
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yourusername has added to their story
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geotag: monaco
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liked by yourusername, mercedesamgf1, carmenmmundt and 901,516 others
tagged: yourusername, mercedesamgf1
lewishamilton reunited at last 🤍
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user not lewis tagging both y/n and mercedes 😂
liked by yourusername
georgerussell63 hard launch much?
↪ carmenmmundt babe i'm pretty sure y/n's posts on the merc account counted as their soft launch 😉
liked by yourusername
yourusername happy to see roscoe again 🐶
↪ lewishamilton and me?
↪ yourusername you're okay too i guess... 🙄
↪ yourusername jk i love you to the moon and saturn 💗
liked by lewishamilton
user i want what they have (i've known about them for three hours)
mercedesamgf1 congratulations lewis and y/n 🌹
↪ susie_wolff toto wants me to inform you that that's not how you're meant to be using the account. that aside, i'm so proud of both of you! come to dinner soon 😊
↪ mercedesamgf1 tysm susie 🥰 and tell bossman that he can get on instagram himself if he wants to yell at me
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likes and reblogs are appreciated!
masterlist
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weird-is-life · 1 month
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rockstar!peter finding readers ig and following her or smth
Hiii, lovely🥰ty for this cute request, I'm sorry it took so long, sorry this is not very good lmao. Warnings: mentions of alcohol, Peter is a hopeless (and dramatic) romantic, swear words, fluff, (0.8k)
Peter doesn't even remember the last time he had a real, serious crush on somebody. Like rockstars probably shouldn't even have crushes like that. His band mates would joke that it's very unrockstar-like.
But.....
Peter is and always has been a hopeless romantic. Even before the band's fame had started to rise. So it's safe to say that Peter is down bad.
When you don't text him after one day and then two days and then three days, Peter goes insane.
He ends up thinking that you either read his letter and ignored it or that you threw the paper away. In his hopeful spirits, he chooses to believe in the latter option.
And that's how he somehow ends up scrolling through the endless hashtag of the concert. He hopes that you or at least one of your friends tagged a photo or a video or something so he can somehow text you.
After what feels like endless search Peter almost gives up. He searches all the possible hashtags of the event, and doesn't find anything.
He gets close to just throwing his phone across the room, and leaving it there when he finally finds you.
It's you. But the photo isn't under any hashtags. The venue where the concert was held reblogged your friends post, and that's how Peter found it.
It's a photo of you and your two friends smiling big in front of the main stage. You look as pretty as Peter remembers, but something else catches his attention.
You are wearing the shirt. His shirt! And somehow Peter's stomach does some things that he didn't even think were possible. Butterflies only get worse as he looks at the picture again.
To Peter's insane luck your friend did tag you in the photo, but..... You have a private profile.
"Shit," Peter groans loudly. He doubts you will accept his request if you have indeed ignored the paper.
He contemplates whether he should just move on or whether he should click the request button.
Peter doesn't get the choice to decide as he accidentally clicks on the request button with a part of his hand. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he quickly locks the phone, and throws it away from him.
"She's gonna block me," Peter murmurs to himself, and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Peter puts his face in his palms in despair, praying that the earth would just swallow him.
Peter doesn't know how long he stays in that position until a loud sound of a new notification bolts him upright.
He reaches for his phone with a slightly shaky hands. He manages to unlock his phone on like a fourth try after saying to himself, " fucking hell, Peter. Get it together."
The notification indeed came from you. You accepted his request along with a text.
The text says, "Did you give me a fake number?" You ask with an attached picture of the paper he gave you.
Peter's heart literally stops. He feels like such an idiot, like the biggest idiot that has ever walked this Earth actually.
No, he didn't give you a fake number. And no you didn't ignore his letter. And no you didn't throw the paper away.
Peter just doesn't seem to know his own phone number. Stupid stupid stupid. I guess, Peter in such a hurry to write that letter for you wrote one number from his phone number wrong.
Peter doesn't think he has ever written a text as quickly as he has now. He types an apology along with the correct phone number, and hopes you will forgive him and his poor memory.
He notices that you open his text, but you don't respond. He waits for your response for like 5 minutes (loosing his shit may I add), already thinking that you are gonna ghost him.
But of course, you aren't. You thought that Peter, a huge upcoming rockstar, gave you a fake number just to mess with you.
So when you finally tried sending him a message, and it didn't send through, you were gutted to say the least. You drank your silly little crush away with your two best friends and a bottle of wine.
Already thinking of how much a fool you've been for thinking that he'd actually give his number to you.
So to say the least you definitely didn't expect a follow request from him the morning after.
Still slightly hungover from the wine, you accept the request and send him the texts.
When he responds with an apology, and allegedly the right phone number you are a bit hesitant to message him again.
After thinking it through quickly, you message him," Is this really Peter this time?"
He responds almost immediately with a photo of him having a big smile on his face. More than beyond happy that you aren't ghosting him.
And safe to say that your friends are even more happy once they wake up and hear it. Celebratory wine being opened once again.
And so are you. You are very excited to get to know Peter. And for him to get to know you.
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thinking about telling tasm!peter to come over with his favorite camera and take pictures in my lingerie and pictures of him fucking me just for later 🥰
Take A Picture, I’ll Last Longer 
--genre + trope: fluff, nsfw.
--pairing: college!tasm!peter parker x college!f!reader
--word count: 0.7k
--warnings: use of a camera, mentions of pants tightening (LMAO), lingerie.
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“What’re you doing right now, baby?”
A beat passes before he responds, “Nothing, bug. Why? What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing,” you sigh, “just missing you.” Holding the phone to your ear, you look at yourself in the mirror in front of you. You admire the lace details on the recent purchases you picked up from the store, running your finger along the trim. 
“Well, I can come over right now. Just give me like fifteen minutes to get over there,” you can hear the rustling of objects in the background, Peter not needing confirmation to start getting ready to leave.
A smirk rises to your lips, deciding to play with his head a little bit, “You better hurry, baby. I wanna show you something. Oh! And bring your camera with you.”
He notices that you’re tone has changed, and it makes him wonder what you could be planning. He pauses his movements to reach over to his desk, picking up his trusty camera. “Okay bug, I’ll be there soon.”
“Bye, Petey.” 
Hanging up, you toss your phone on the bed, taking a look at yourself another time. A part of you is nervous coming off this strong, anxious thoughts plague your mind. What if I don’t look good? Is this too much? He might think this is stupid, I should just change. Taking a deep breath, you calm yourself down. Peter is a simple man, if he sees his stunning girlfriend in a beautiful set of lingerie, he’s going to worship your being for the rest of his days. There was no doubt about it. 
Your curtains are drawn when you hear a knock on your window, hastily walking over, you pull them back, revealing your figure. Even with the glass separating you two, you could feel Peter’s eyes run across every inch of your body.
He’s the one that pushes the window open, eyes never leaving your frame as he climbs inside your bedroom. Dropping the backpack he brought with him to the floor, he pulls your face in to envelop your lips in a breathtaking kiss. He starts to walk the both of you to your bed behind you, clearly needing you as soon as possible. “Wait, baby,” you pull away, breathless, “did you bring your camera?”
Still an inch away from your face, he eyes your lips as you talk, “Yeah, why?” 
You push him away, and sit on the corner of your bed, “Take some pictures of me. I bought this just for you.” 
A breathy laugh leaves him, staring at you with eyes full of lust. He can’t believe what you’ve just asked, he’s in shock, he’s in love. Breaking eye contact with you, he reaches down into his backpack and pulls out his camera, turning it on and correcting the focus before snapping a picture of you sitting on the bed, legs crossed, leaning back on your hands, eyes looking up through your eyelashes, and a dangerously wicked smile on your lips. The quick and bright flash lights up the room as the shutter, along with Peter’s breathy moans, are the only things heard within those walls. 
Your little photoshoot lasts a good twenty minutes, Peter barely has to give you instructions on how to pose. You know what he likes, and you make sure to give him your all. He barely lasts the twenty minutes, every so often, you look down at his jeans, now tight and tenting. The sight of him hard gives you a feeling of gratification, you were so worried for nothing. “God, you are amazing (Y/N),” he mutters, as he clicks through the pictures he just took. 
He walks over to sit beside you, tilting the camera towards you to show you the pictures as well. “What are you going to do with them?” 
Peter looks down into your eyes once again, a teasing smile painting his face, “What do you think I’m going to do with them?”
“Hmm,” you tap your index finger against your chin, acting clueless, “I don’t know…Why don’t you show me?”
He already set his camera carefully on the floor before he responds, knowing exactly what is going to happen, “Show you, huh? I think I can do that.”
You giggle before he attacks you in a hug, pulling you down onto the mattress. 
--author's note: sorry guys i left you hanging for the smut LOL. send me some more smut requests, these are fun;) keep sending me requests!!!! my inbox is open!! keep supporting your writers by commenting, liking, and reblogging. ok, bye ily<333333
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indulgentdaydream · 9 months
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Cooking Lessons
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Jason Todd X Reader
My first x reader fic! Of course I had to go with jason. He’s the love of my life🥰 inspired by me not knowing how to properly cut a bell pepper yesterday and wishing somebody (cough cough, jason, cough) had been there to help me
(ps. for anyone who also doesn’t know how to cut a bell pepper!)
Not proof read!!
Warnings: use of feminine pet names (ex, princess) food mention, knife mention, knife use, one (1) use of profanity.
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Jason walked into the kitchen, sweating from his workout. He found you standing at the counter, your back to him. You had a knife in hand, chopping something up. He opened the fridge to grab himself some water. He could smell the spices of whatever you were cooking in the pan to your left.
He walked up beside you. He placed a hand on the small of your back as he looked down. There was chicken cooking in the pan and you were cutting up a bell pepper, “What you cooking, princess?”
“Quesadillas,” You hummed, focused on your task at hand. There was a cooking book open off to your right, set on top of the microwave
Jason hummed in response, smiling, “Smells good.”
He continued to watch you chop. Your hand moved slowly. You set the pepper on it’s side before cutting it in half, straight through the centre. The seeds inside spread all over the knife. You began to awkwardly cut around the centre, further making a mess of getting the seeds everywhere. He grew a little concerned as he kept watching, “Baby?”
“Yeah?”
“Who taught you how to cut up a pepper?”
Your shoulders dropped a little, your hand stilling. You looked up at Jason with a defeated look, “Nobody…”
He chuckled. He leaned in and kissed the pout on your lips, “May I?”
You nodded. He set down his water before moving in behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, his arms under yours. He picked up another bell pepper, a dark green.
He placed it on the board, placing his hands over yours. His chin rested on your shoulder as he spoke, “First, you gotta cut off the stem.”
He guided your hands, enjoying the small giggle that escaped you at the sight of his large, calloused, scarred hands resting over your smaller ones, nearly engulfing them.
He spoke calmly and slowly, “Now, you flip it on it’s head, where the stem was. See the bumps? You cut down to chop those off.”
You hummed, “Like this?”
Jason nods, “Just like that.” He pulls his hands off yours, bringing them back to rest on your hips, letting you do it yourself.
“See?” He says when you finish, leaving the untouched centre, with all the seeds still intact, leftover, “This way, you can take the pieces you cut off, flatten them out, and they’re easier to cut,” He pauses, “Plus, you don’t make a mess of the seeds.”
He picks up the centre for you, tossing it into the small open compost bin sitting on the window sill of the kitchen. You shrug, picking up on of the pieces you had cut before, covered in the tiny white pellets that were the seeds, “I was just gonna wash it off with water.”
He lets out a low, thoughtful hum, “Waste o’ water.”
You mimic his hum and cast him a look over your shoulder, where he still rests his chin, “Not what you said last night when you dragged me into the shower with you.”
A grin pulls at Jason’s lips. He raises his eyebrows a little, amused, “That’s why we gotta counteract our water usage, princess.” He straightens, planting a kiss on your cheek, “It doesn’t help that your knife is a bit dull. I’ve got a sharpener in my duffle, though.”
You didn’t realize what he meant until he had already stepped out of the kitchen. You whipped around, “Jason Peter! You are not using the same thing you sharpen your blades with on my kitchen knives!”
He steps back in, holding his hands out, “It’s clean!”
You stared at him, “I do not believe you.”
She caught Jason’s smile before he nodded at the stove beside her, “Chicken’s burning.”
“Shit!”
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vanalex · 14 days
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frenziedslashers · 1 year
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Hi there! I would like a request a OS about Peter B Parker x Fem! Reader as a married couple Smut (Reader is Mayday's mother). The Reader is like Starfire (An alien superheroine and a beautiful hot like fire (literally, since her powers comes from the sun) person married to a human) Like Malewife and Girlboss...So when Peter comes home, she's taking care of her daughter meanwhile he was on patrol, so she put her daughter on bed time. She wants to have a night of "fun" with her husband. Taking good care of him with a bath and a dinner so then the "fun" can come. With a purple robe and a sexy lavender lingerie. I can leave the smut part to you with some recommendations Lactation Kink, Praise kink, "Mommy" kink, Oral (Female and male receiving), Creampie, maybe 69 position...
Take good care 🥰
Early Nights Off;;
A/N: Dude, I am literally blowing you kisses and hugging you platonically through my laptop rn. I was smiling and kicking my feet when I saw that you nearly instantly sent me a request for Peter. I am so in love with him, I love my silly goofy DILFs hehe. I have never written for a lactation kink before so I will not be doing that as I do not know how and Idk how comfortable I am with it LMAO I will try and interoperate the rest into this for you though. Thank you again, literally my savior for my brain rot rn. HE IS SO MALEWIFE THOUGH, YOU ARE SO REAL. I hope this is good enough, this is my first Peter fic haha.
Warnings: Breeding Kink (I just know he has one after Mayday.), Praise Kink, "Mommy" Kink sort of?, Oral (F and M Receiving), Creampie (Wrap it before you tap it guys), Reader is an alien (Not proofread, sorry lmao)
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Any other day it would be easy for Peter to patrol the city all night. Even if the crime activity was little to nothing. He could spend all day and night swinging from building to building. It beat sitting at home with nothing to do.
Except now he had a reason to be home. Even before the two of you had Mayday, and it was just you. He found himself crawling through the window of your shared apartment earlier and earlier each night. You were his weakness, and he was never ashamed to admit it.
After you gave him his first kid though. There were some nights that he wouldn't go out at all. Too enraptured by baby Mayday to even think about leaving your cozy home. Playing with the baby. Watching you nurture and care for her. Being a dad was something he enjoyed a lot more than he ever thought he would. He had Miles to thank for breaking his fear of kids.
Tonight was one of his early nights. Calling it quits after all he found for crime activity was a man robbing a woman of her purse. Cliché and typical, but he put a stop to it nonetheless. Getting the woman's purse back while also tying the attacker up in front of the New York Police Department with a letter attached to him.
'Caught him robbing a lady, you're welcome. - Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.'
He wondered if they ever actually took in and charged the people he left on their doorstep like that. Or if they simply untied them and let them run because they had no proof they actually did anything wrong? That was a question for another time, though. Right now he was focused on opening the bedroom window. Crawling in and shutting it behind him to keep the muggy air outside from entering the room.
He was quick to take the suit off. Figuring he wouldn't need it for the rest of the night. Pulling a grey shirt on that hung on the side of the bed. Keeping only his boxers on to allow his body to cool down from the warmer conditions outside.
You were in the living room. Comfortable pajamas on while you lulled Mayday to sleep in your arms. A soft hum leaving your throat as you rocked her back and forth. He had to stop and watch for a while. Leaning against the door frame that led him from your shared room to the living room.
"You're back early," you cooed. At times he wished you didn't have the ability to sense him like he could you. It was nice sometimes, though. Not at times that he wanted to just sit and watch you mother his baby.
"I missed my beautiful girls," he murmured, that smug smile gracing his features. You were glad to have looked up and seen it.
"Well, I just fed her and got her to sleep." you informed, and he nodded. Licking his lips while his eyes raked over you. Practically undressing you and imagining all the things he could do to you right now. It had been so long since the two of you had any time to each other. That seemed to be one of the few, if not only down falls to being parents. Sex felt scarce, but that didn't mean it was totally absent from your lives.
"I think I might shower while you lay her down," he spoke, shifting his feet as he went to turn back for the bathroom down the hall. "Or I could run you a bath while I make you something to eat?" you offered and he just couldn't say no.
He smiled, nodding his head while staring you down. So much love and adoration was in his eyes. He was perfect. Mayday was perfect. You were perfect.
"What man could say no to that offer?" He snickered, to which you rolled your eyes. Smiling fondly at your husband while you stood to your feet. Kissing his cheek when you made it over to him. "I'll get that bath running then," you hummed. Heading for Maydays room to put her to bed. Shutting the door behind you before you scurried off for the bathroom. Swaying your hips a little more than normal since you knew he was staring.
He was, too. His eyes eating you up like candy while they took in your form. God, he could eat you alive.
The water was the perfect temperature. The soaps that you put in it had him melting into the atmosphere. Everything was perfect. He couldn't ask for anything better. When you came walking in with food, and that skimpy bathrobe that drove him crazy. He was certain you were praying on his downfall.
"You spoil me," he told you as he took a plate from your hand. Watching as you sat on the edge of the tub with your own plate in hand. The both of you eating together. Peter a little more eager than you. He loved his food.
"Only because you spoil me in return," you grinned. He raised a questioning brow. Taking a bite of the Mac and Cheese that you warmed up from the night before. "How? I don't make enough money to spoil you. You spoil me more that I do you, and it's a little unfair," he pouted a bit. He hated the fact that he couldn't spoil you like he wanted to, but you never seemed to mind. Everything was fine the way it was.
"You find your ways, Pete," you hummed as you put your plate on the sink counter. Climbing off the tub so you could kneel on the floor next to the tub. His eyes were glued to yours. A questioning glint to them that begged for you to explain further.
"You don't need money to spoil someone. You pamper me with little things. Like your affection and how romantic you can be," you smiled, because he truly was a sap. He loved spending nights cuddling with you. Kissing over your body while reminding you how beautiful you were. Praising you for carrying his baby. Your baby. Making dinner for you on the nights that you couldn't bring yourself to. Or simply taking you and Mayday to the park to get some ice-cream and be a family.
"If it weren't for you, I probably would have never had little Mayday, either," you admitted, and he raised a brow. "Really?" He questioned, and you nodded.
"I never really wanted kids. Not until we started dating. You made me realize that I don't need to be scared of that sort of commitment ever again. You gave me a beautiful daughter," he felt his heart racing at your words. "I never really wanted a kid before you, either. It scared me, being a superhero and all." You both chuckled at that. Staring at one another for a moment or two.
"I guess we both spoiled each other in that department," you told him, and he nodded. "Guess so."
When Peter and yourself finally finished eating, that's when you helped him wash his hair. Something that he was going to do himself, but when you offered to do so. He just laid back and let you.
Your fingers pulled through his hair. Nails scratching his scalp just right while you spread the shampoo. A soft moan leaving his lips while his eyes fell shut. It had you smiling to yourself. Biting your bottom lip to try and keep it from growing any wider.
You leaned in to press a kiss to his shoulder. Your hands trailing down his chest while you leaned in closer to his ear. Peter's eyes opening when he felt your breath on his ear. His eyes trailing down to your chest. Catching a glimpse of the lavender bra under your bathrobe. The thought of you in lingerie had him grunting. His cock twitching to life under the water. It had been too long since the two of you had done anything like this. Something that wasn't a quickie before he left for work after his lunch break, while Mayday was down for her afternoon nap.
"God, I love you so much," he muttered, and you giggled. Pressing a kiss to his temple. "Scoot down so I can wash your hair out, goofball," you teased, and he felt his heart thumping. "Yes Ma'am."
Once his hair was all washed it was time for him to call it a night. Eyes begging for you to take him to the bedroom so you could both fuck like rabbits. Before Mayday that's what it felt like you two were. Primal Animals that only knew how to fuck or make love. Whatever mood Peter was in that night deciphered how he screwed you.
Tonight he wanted to pamper you. To really spoil you since he knew you planned to do the same to him. Gosh, "I'd do anything to be between those thighs," He murmured out loud. A dumbstruck look on his face. He hadn't even noticed he said it out loud, and you knew it. A giggle escaping your lips while you leaned forward. Ghosting your lips over his. "Not if I'm between yours first," you cooed, and he shuddered.
His face was a slight red out of embarrassment. He hadn't meant to say that to you out loud, but it wouldn't be the first lewd thing he'd ever said to you. Peter was fairly good at telling you what he wanted and how he wanted to do it. The more lust filled he got, the less of a sensor he had.
It was like a race for the both of you. Peter standing from the tub while flicking the switch so the water would drain. Scrambling out of it while you laughed and giggled with him. The both of you doing your best to be quiet so Mayday wouldn't wake up.
You ran for the bedroom. Feet pattering against the wooden floor while he did the same. Shutting the door behind himself before he pulled you in for a kiss that he craved. One that you both craved, really.
"I know you're wearing it," he spoke against your lips. Pulling the string of your bath robe so it would fall open. He was quick to pull back so he could see your frame better. "You still like it?" You asked, and he was quick to nod. His fingers running up your sides to your breasts. Giving them both a light squeeze with a groan. "Baby, I never want you to take it off," he chuckled, and you both knew that was a lie. By the end of the night he'd have it ripped off you and in a pile on the floor.
His lips came in contact with your neck. Fiery touches that you would never get used to. Your own powers were controlled by the sun, yet this heat was always so unfamiliar to you. So nice.
"Peter," you sighed as he sucked on your skin. Your body jolting when his fingers pinched your nipples through your bra. "You're so gorgeous, you know that?" He asked against your skin. Licking over your collar bone. You chuckled with a nod, "You tell me all the time," "Yeah, well I don't say it damn near enough." You rolled your eyes at his comment, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. "Yeah, and I don't tell you how good of a boy you are for me enough, either," he let out a grumble of a moan against your skin. It was so easy to rile him up, you loved it.
"May I?" You asked, ghosting your fingertips over his shaft, and he nodded. "Words, Peter," you demanded, and he shuddered. "Yes... Yeah, please," he mewled, and you snickered. He was already a mess.
You shrugged the robe off, allowing it to fall to the floor to give his hands more access to your skin. Your hand quick to reach between your lovers legs and grab him. Giving him a slow stroke before stopping to squeeze the base. His head fell onto your shoulder. A sigh leaving his lips while he gripped your hips.
"I need you," he called, "God, I need you so bad, don't tease me," he cried a little, and you had half a mind to listen, but you didn't want to. You had other plans for the night. You wanted to draw out this time you both had together for as long as you could.
"No," you purred, and the whine that he let out was heavenly. "Now, don't pout, Petey," you purred, "be a good boy for me and I'll reward you," he nodded frantically. He just wanted you to carry on and do something. Anything.
When you started to drop to your knees he felt his heart stutter in his chest. Everywhere your hands grazed as you slid down to the floor was on fire. At this point he couldn't tell if it was from his excitement, or if you were doing it yourself.
Your hand stroked his shaft a couple more times. Peter watching with excited eyes. His thighs shaking while he fought the urge to thrust forward.
"You can touch me, Peter," you told him, and he nodded. His shaky hands coming to tangle in your hair. One staying on the top of your head while the other came to cup the side of your face.
"Will you be good?" You asked, and he nodded. "I know you will," you hummed, kissing his hip. Listening to the moan that left his throat just from having your lips so close to where he wanted you the most. He craved you to the point that it hurt.
When you did finally reach his cock, the noise he made was unreal. Your eyes darting up to his with warning. One of his hands shot up to cover his mouth. A soft 'sorry, my love,' falling from his lips. He truly didn't mean to be as loud as he was. He could never help it. He prayed that one day the two of you could find a babysitter for Mayday so neither of you had to hold back as much as you both did.
Your head bobbed and he felt his knees shaking all ready. His brow knitting together while his chest began to heave. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. You were like an angel. On your knees, committing sin. The thought made him shudder. A hum rumbling from his chest while his head lolled to the side. "Feels so... Good," he purred, and you hummed in response. The vibration sending a wave of pleasure through his body. Both hands shooting to the top of your head so he could stable himself. His mouth slightly parted while his vision grew blurry from the tears that pricked the corners of his eyes.
"God, like that, shit," he spewed out words. You knew he was close, even if you couldn't sense it like he could sense your own approaching orgasms. You would know from how many times you've made him cum in your relationship.
You didn't allow him to, though. Another groan leaving his lips while he buckled forward. His hips thrusting forward a little in an attempt to chase your mouth. "Dammit, I was so close," he slurred, and you chuckled. Leaving an open mouthed kiss on the side of his cock. "I know, and you did so good for me baby," you purred, and he whined. He had such mixed feelings for your praising tease. He loved it, but he also despised it.
"How about I reward you now?" You asked, looking up to your lover with a grin. He was quick to nod in agreement. Licking his lips while he waited anxiously for what you had to say next.
"You wanna fill me up tonight?" "You have no idea," he practically growled. The sound of his voice. The switch from whiny to damn near feral. It went straight to your core. Your breath hitching as he helped pull you to your feet. Pushing you back until you were on the bed.
He fell on top of you. Caging your body with his own. Something seemed to snap in his eyes and it excited you more than taking control over him. It wasn't often that you let him be in complete control, but right now. All you could think of is what he had said in the tub.
"You still want your head between my thighs?" You asked, and his eyes were quick to meet yours again. A smirk pulling at his lips while he stared down at you. "I'd live there if I could, baby," you both chuckled a little at this, but you both knew it was true, too. There were some mornings that you'd wake up to his head between your thighs. Eating you like you were his last meal on earth. He'd just give you head if you'd let him. He never really expected anything in return from you.
He lips crashed down onto yours. A kiss that had you both gasping for air when he was done. Teeth on teeth that led to his tongue exploring your mouth.
His hands were on their own mission. Scaling your body. Taking in every dip and curve that you had. Memorizing you like he did every other time he touched you. If he didn't have any other responsibilities, he could stay in this position with you forever. Touching your body while kissing you with fervor.
One of his hands cupped your breast. The other resting on your thigh. His lips finally parting from yours with a string of saliva still connecting you both. A smug and dreamy smile on his face. "I love you," he hummed, and you giggled. "I love you, too," you told him, and his smile grew. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have you.
His lips trailed over the top of your breasts. Kissing and sucking. Leaving little marks on the soft skin. His hand on your thigh sliding up your body so he could take both of your breasts in his hands. Squeezing and toying with your sensitive mounds of flesh. Your back arching with soft noises that left your throat. Every sound that you made only fed his ego more than it did before.
His mouth replaced one of his hands. Mouthing over the thin fabric that his your nipples from the air. Saliva wetting your skin through the fabric. A sharp inhale coming from you when he nipped your sensitive skin. Your fingers gripping his shoulders while he teased your body. He knew what drove you crazy. Just like you knew what drove him crazy.
His free hand trailed down to your panties. His hand cupping your sex with a moan. He could feel how hot you were down there and it drove him wild. His middle and index finger running over your mound. Feeling how wet you were through the fabric of the lingerie. It was intoxicating him. Just as much as his touch was intoxicating you.
His mouth switched over to your other breast. Biting the flesh while he pushed your panties to the side to slip his middle finger inside of you. A gasp leaving your throat while you tugged at his hair. "Pete!" you snapped, and he grunted, "'M sorry, you're just so good," he moaned against your skin. His now free hand reaching behind you to undo the bra that kept him from your bare skin. Gibing him the chance to abuse your nipples without the fabric in the way. Though, it didn't last long before his mouth was trailing down your stomach. Leaving wet kisses on his way down.
Once he met your clothed sex with his face he felt himself growing impatient. Nudging your clothed clit with his nose. "You're so pretty like this," he sounded drunk. He practically was. Anytime he had sex he was. He was intoxicated by you. You were his perfect drug.
His fingers hooked your underwear. Pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the side. Peter blew on your sex. Keeping your legs apart with his strong grip. "Stay still for me, please," he asked, looking up with pleading eyes. Though there was a hint of command behind them that had you clenching around nothing. You only nodded your head in agreement, which had him smiling.
He was quick to get to work. Licking up your slit. Your breath hitching while your fingers tangled in his hair. His hips bucking down into the bed to try and gather some sort of friction for himself.
He licked at your sensitive bud. Licking and sucking until you were squirming and on the verge of tears. Biting the back of your hand to hold back the cries that tried to bleed from your mouth.
"Taste so good," he rambled. Reaching a hand down to push two fingers inside you. Curling them up, then dragging them out. Slipping the digits past his lips to take a taste. Moaning around his fingers before slipping them out. "Heavenly," he sighed, before diving in once again. Lapping you up like a dog.
It wasn't long before you were summing on his tongue. You told him you were close, but he knew. Only abusing your clit until you were convulsing underneath him. If it weren't for you pushing his head away, he would have made you cum again, too.
"Peter, please," you cried, and he looked up from between your legs. "Just one more time," he tried to plea. Leaning down to lick your clit again. Your body jolting at the overstimulating feeling. "Peter, if you aren't inside me in the next ten seconds I swear to God," you snapped, and he smirked. "All right, all right," he chuckled, kissing your stomach before pulling himself up so he was positioned between your thighs.
He moved above you for a moment or two. Just staring down at you with those adoring eyes. You hated how he looked at you sometimes. It made your heart ache and wish that you had met him sooner than you had. He always made you feel so special and so loved.
"I want another kid," he blurted, "Maybe a little boy, he could have your eyes," he daydreamed out loud, and you nearly laughed. Yet, you couldn't. You only stared back up at him. Hearts practically in your eyes while you reached up to cup the sides of his face. "Only if he has your smile," he chuckled at your words. Leaning down to nuzzle your nose with his. "Is that a yes to baby number two?" He snickered, reaching down to rub your stomach. He was obsessed with you, and he couldn't get over the thought of you carrying another one of his kids. He was already crazy for you, but seeing you pregnant with his child? It did things to him, and you knew it, too. He wasn't shy about it.
"You like being a mommy?" He hummed, and you nodded, "Only for you," you chuckled, and he snickered. "You're a good one too. So loving, caring, rewarding," he winked with the last word, and you rolled your eyes. Swatting his chest. "Peter," he shrugged. "You are, I'm glad you are, too. Mommy. It's a good title for you," He cooed, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.
"Peter, it's been over ten seconds," you reminded him, wrapping your legs around his waist. Bringing your hips up to meet his. The both of you shuddering at the friction. "All right," he sighed out, but instead of pressing himself inside of you like you wanted. He pulled away from you. A frown settling on your lips. "What?" "Hands and knees, now," you stared for a second. It never ceased to surprise you when he ordered you around, but you never really complained about it either.
Once you were maneuvered around he was quick to pull you closer to him by your hips. Leaning down to kiss the dip of your back. "Gonna fill you full," he murmured against your skin, rubbing the tip of his dick along the slit of your sex.
"Shit, Peter," you wined, leaning down to lay the side of your face on the bed. Peter let out a moan at the position you put yourself in. Ass in the air, face in the sheets. You were gorgeous.
He hushed you, biting his lip while putting his fingers against your lips. You sucked them into your mouth and he swore it was one of the hottest things you've done.
When he pressed inside of you, you both fought to stay quiet. Peter was practically falling apart above you. The thought of fucking a baby into you had him harder than he had expected. His hips giving a few testing rolls to make sure you were wet enough. Only moving when you gave a nod.
His thrusts were slow at first. Rolling against you with rhythm. Until they weren't. Until you begged him to move fasted and he had to listen to you.
Both of his hands were on your hips now. His own hips thrusting in and out of you at a past that had your whole body trembling. You pawed and gripped at the sheets. One of his hands keeping hold of your hip while the other reached for one of your hands. Intertwining his fingers with your own. Even while he was fucking you dumb he showed so much affection for you. It was almost overwhelming.
Peter leant over you. Pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade while he panted and moaned in your ear. The sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. The faster he got the further you got smothered into the bed. He was chasing that high that the both of you craved. When he felt his approaching, he was quick to reach between your thighs to rub your clit with the speed of his thrusts. Bringing the both of you to the highs that you desired. His hips slowing while he rolled out his orgasm and rubbed out your own.
Peter lay limp above you. His chest heaving on top of your back. One hand running up and down your side while the other squeezed and rubbed at your hand.
"One more?" He asked, and you chuckled. "Your libido's too high for your own good, Peter," you sighed, and he chuckled. Pulling out of you which caused the both of you to groan with distaste. "I'm not hearing a no?" He questioned with a brow raised. Helping you roll onto your back. "One more," you told him with a nod, and he grinned. "Maybe two?" "Pete, don't push it," you giggled, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck. Peter laughing into the kiss he gave you.
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sundrop-writes · 2 months
Note
you were nice to me and acknowledged my existence so i hope you know that means you’ve unknowingly asked for all my dumbass, hyper-specific 12AM bullshit thoughts.
you can turn this into a mini blurb or teen wolf pack headcanon - whatever works for you, but who do you think in the pack is would be into you wearing a necklace (or any form of jewelry really) with their name/initial on it? are they buying it for you or is it something you would have to initiate, do they want one too with your name/initial on it?
i know it’s not everyone’s thing but i think it can be really adorable 🥰
if this isn’t your vibe just let me know, no biggie 🩷
This is absolutely my vibe!!! I love this prompt so much omg. Also, I love it when people come to me with their random 12am bullshit - whether it's just to rant in my inbox about fictional characters or to suggest fic ideas. This is what Tumblr inboxes are for
My requests for Teen Wolf are open!! Just make sure to read my rules first!!
What would the pack think of you wearing a necklace that represents them?
A/N: I changed it from an initial to a representative symbol, partially because of a tiktok that Star sent me the other day of someone selling Teen Wolf necklaces in an Etsy shop that I can't stop thinking about and I want one so badly, and partially because I think Derek's tattoo would make a really amazing necklace.
Warnings: descriptions of canon level violence, I tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible (please let me know if I messed up anywhere on that), Isaac's low self eesteem due to his father's abuse, mentions of Jackson x Lydia, references to sex (but nothing descriptively smutty), I think that's it.
Includes: Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Erica Reyes (I got tired while writing this so that's all the characters we have lmao)
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Derek would love it. It would be his idea - he would be the one to give you the necklace.
He met you shortly before becoming an Alpha, and you were the defining member of his pack. You were the first person he had bitten in order to turn them - you had been bleeding out outside of the Hale house after Peter had stuck his claws through your stomach, sensing Derek's attachment to you (even if it was something that Derek himself hesitated to admit), and he had called Derek weak for taking a liking to you. So the moment after Derek had slashed Peter's throat open, making him the Alpha, he had used his new found power to bite you, ultimately saving your life.
You were someone he had once viewed as his weakness, but he had come to realize that you were his ultimate strength. You showed him how to interact with Erica, Isaac, and Boyd with kindness and understanding, you showed him how to harness his Alpha power with more than just the anger he harboured inside. You showed him love - something his isolated heart hadn't felt in years.
To him, the triskele tattoo on his back represented the three forms of a wolf could take - the powerful, leading Alpha, the following Beta, and isolated, weak Omega. It represents how a wolf can rise to power, but he can also fall to weakness if he's not careful.
When he gave you a necklace with that same symbol as its pendant, he explained to you why it was so important to him that you wear it.
"You have helped me rise to my full potential." He told you, pinning the clasp behind your neck. "Every time I look at this around your neck, I want to be reminded of that. I want to be reminded not to fall to anything less." He kissed the base of your neck, causing you to break into a large smile as his thick, warm arms wrapped around you from behind. "I need to be reminded to serve you a good, loyal Alpha every single day. Not to fall back into my former weaknesses."
"I thought I was your weakness?"
"No. You're my strength."
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Isaac would be unsure about it. And it most definitely was not his idea.
It started with you and Lydia hanging out before a lacrosse game - the two of you were getting ready in her room, and while she finished up her makeup, she said 'oh!' as if suddenly remembering something, and then went to her jewellery box. You looked on in curiosity as she pulled out a necklace, and when you squinted closer, you saw that it was a silver pendant with the number 37 on it.
"What's that?" You asked.
"It's Jackson's jersey number." She told you. "It's good luck for a player's girlfriend to wear his jersey number, and I didn't want some big ugly jacket with the numbers written on the back."
It made you wonder if you should wear Isaac's jersey number to the game, even though the two of you had been playing around with dating, not exactly official. Isaac was hesitant on PDA and labels. Lydia encouraged you, though, and she ended up using a red lipstick to write his number 14 on your cheek, making you look like a crazed fan - but everybody at the game already knew who you were there for.
Before the next game, Lydia gifted you with a necklace similarly to her own, with the promise that she wouldn't have to freeze her ass off in the stands alone - and to her, it was like the two of you had matching best friend necklaces, representing the lugheads that you cheered for on the field together. At first, you only wore it to games. But then you found comfort in wearing it all the time.
Isaac, of course, took notice of this - his eyes easily magnetized to the number 14 glimmering on the silver chain around your neck.
He felt like he didn't deserve to have a mark on you. He was undeserving of claiming you, undeserving of being called your 'boyfriend'. He was worthless, and you wearing something that represented some kind of serious relationship between the two of you - why did you want him? Why?
After a long, tiring night of talking, some tears, and eventually some kissing - he finally understood. And from then on, he was more than proud to have his 14 constantly shining around your neck.
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Scott would love it. But it would be your idea.
The two of you had to date in secret - your family had a loyalty, an alignment with the Argents, so you couldn't be seen with Scott in public, creating a deep frustration between the two of you when you couldn't hold hands in the hallways or go on 'real' dates like other couples could. Scott expressed a deep frustration at loving you, being your boyfriend, but not getting to be yours twenty-four seven like he wanted to, and that's what caused you to come up with the idea.
You got a silver heart locket necklace, and inside, put a picture of the two of you. Well - it was a piece of the picture of the two of you. You grabbed a photo of the two of you kissing, and cut out the space that had formed between your necks when your lips came together in a kiss - to anybody else (most important, if your family saw it) it would have looked like a photo of blank sky. But you and Scott were the only two people in the world who knew what the photo truly was.
And you gave him the rest of the photo with the missing heart shape cut out between the two of you so that he could be reminded of your next words every single time he looked at it.
"The space between us isn't what matters." You told him firmly, pointing to the space you had cut out of the photo. "No matter how big that space gets, we always know how much we love each other. We'll always have each other."
From then on, every single time he looked at the silver heart dangling around your neck, it was something he remembered with a smile. No matter how far the two of you had to be apart, no matter for how long - your love kept you together.
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Stiles would absolutely love it. It would be his idea.
Stiles would be incredibly shy and shitting his pants nervous about asking you to wear his numbers, but the week before, you had asked him to be your boyfriend after a roaring success of a first date that he had no clue how he landed with you. His first game as a first linger was coming up, and he felt like things could only go up from here.
He had you, he was first line, so - he steadied his courage as he tightly gripped the black velvet box that had the shiny gold necklace in it, praying that this wouldn't be too much, too soon. Praying that he wasn't going to scare you off.
"Um, hey." He greeted you at your locker, a ball of nervous energy that had you giving him a questioning eyebrow.
"Good morning." You smiled at him, wondering why he was acting so strange. You leaned in and kissed him on the lips - a light, chaste kiss in greeting, and he felt himself nearly knocked over by the joy of it.
This was really real. He had you.
"What's that?" You asked, motioning toward the box in his hands.
"Oh, uh - a gift." He said. "For you."
"Stiles, you didn't have to. It's not my birthday or anything."
"I know." He said. "I want to - to do something special. To celebrate you being mine."
An intense wave of butterflies overtook you at this, and you look on in awe as he opened the box, presenting the necklace to you.
"It's - um - it's my jersey number. Ya know - 24. Just - it's a thing that people usually do, wearing their boyfriend's number... and I - am I being too weird? I'm sorry." He went off rambling the longer that you didn't speak, and you quickly raised a hand to his wrist, trying to calm him with a soothing touch there.
"I love it." You assured him with a smile. "Thank you. I can't wait to wear it."
"I could... help you put it on now?"
You nodded enthusiastically, and he excitedly grabbed it out of the box.
From then on, you never took it off. You were more than proud to be his, and proud to show it off by wearing the necklace.
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Erica would fucking love it, but it wouldn't really be intentional on either of your behalves.
One thing Erica never expected about becoming a werewolf - how possessive it would make her. But being able to smell when someone had touched you, being able to hear how hard your heart pounded when you were scared or anxious - it made her want to rip apart anybody who even looked at you the wrong way. The two of you weren't even officially dating. Your friendship always crossed weird lines - you were the only person who was kind to her when she was an outcast, and after she transformed, you were the only person she knew for certain didn't just want her for her body.
The sex between the two of you was amazing, but you never talked about feelings.
One night in the haste of undressing, she dropped a necklace on your floor - a nameplate necklace that her parents had gotten for her birthday a few years ago. You didn't want to forget to bring it back to her, and you thought it was funny, a kind of joke - so you put it on. You thought nothing of having the name 'Erica' dangling around your neck in bold silver letters.
When Erica saw it - it drove all of her wolfish instincts insane. Seeing her claim on you, her name literally written across you - it took everything she had in her not to throw you across a table in the middle of the library and fuck your brains out, then and there.
And she saw the way other people reacted to it too. The way guys would go to flirt with you, but then their eyes would dart down to the necklace and then look to her, as if finally noticing her presence glaring at them, telling them to back off - and then they would scatter in fear. It was the first time in weeks that the two of you actually had peace.
So she implored you to keep it. She loved having a silent little claim on you. After all, wolves love claiming their territory, right?
...
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delicatebarness · 3 months
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cry baby | chapter seventeen
Summary: When Bucky met Peter...
Warning: Bucky Barnes.
Word Count: 1323
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A/N: Oh Bucky. Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B
Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @cjand10 | @plasticbottleholder | @birdenthusiastez
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The soft, late afternoon light streamed into your apartment and cast a warm glow over your small but beloved art desk. Your sketchbook lay open on top as a myriad of pencils scattered around, a half-finished canvas propped up against the window. 
Drawing had been your escape, a channel for your thoughts and emotions to turn into something tangible. You had been working tirelessly on a series of pieces you hoped would secure your place in a local art show. A chance to showcase your work to a broader audience and take a step forward, closer to a artistic career.
You let your favorite playlist play softly in the background as you lose yourself in the rhythm of shading and detailing. Each piece told a different story, and the emotions and love you had experienced over your life here in the city. The one you were working on, in particular, was a portrayal of resilience. 
You barely noticed the time passing as you became engrossed in your work. It wasn’t until your phone buzzed with a message that you glanced away. It was a text from Peter, reminding you of the plans for the evening at the bar.
Peter: Hey, I’ll pick you up around 7 tonight. I’m looking forward to meeting your friends! 😄
You smiled at his message, he had been incredibly excited to meet your friends, especially after meeting Steve. You quickly send him a reply. “Sounds perfect! They’re going to love you! 🥰”
Turning back to your sketch, you added the final touches. You wanted to ensure you had made enough progress and were satisfied with the piece before calling it a day. Your thoughts began to drift as you worked, drifting to the evening ahead. You looked forward to your family meeting Peter, yet you were also apprehensive. 
After a while, you set your pencil down. Standing, you took a step back to admire your work. Not perfect, you thought, but it captured the essence of what you wanted. 
With a content sigh, you began cleaning up your workspace. Carefully put away your supplies and stop Alpine from jumping up. Glancing at the clock, brought you to the present as you realized it was time to get ready.
Rifling through your wardrobe, you tried to find something suitable to wear. After a few minutes of deliberation, you settled on one of your usual outfits. You knew you’d be comfortable the whole night. Pulling your dress from the hanger you noticed a familiar piece pushed to the side.
Bucky’s leather jacket.
For a moment, you stared at it, remembering the last time you borrowed it. He insisted you take it, not wanting you to feel left out. You had meant to return it but, you had not found the right moment. 
Sighing, you pushed the jacket aside and continued getting ready. 
~
Leaning against the bar, you waited for your drink. Peter was by your side, his hand gently finding its way to the small of your back, his touch sending a pleasant shiver up your spine. You smiled up at him, enjoying his presence. But, before you could fully appreciate the moment, you noticed a figure moving quickly over to you, pushing his way through the crowd. 
Bucky. He cut a path toward you with a look of determination. His eyes were locking onto Peter, a darkness flickered in them. Within seconds he reached you, and without hesitation, he shoved Peter away from you. 
“Don’t fucking touch her!” Bucky growled, squaring up to Peter, and looking down at him slightly. 
Peter stumbled back slightly, hands raising in a placating gesture. “Whoa, dude! I–”
“Stop!” you shouted toward Bucky, trying to step between them.
It was too late, Bucky was already gearing up for a fight. His protective instincts overring any sense of reason left in him. “Who the fuck do you think you are, putting your hands on her?” he demanded loud enough to draw the attention of Steve and the others that were scattered around the bar. 
“He’s my boyfriend, James!” you yelled, desperation laced your voice as you tried to break through his rage. “Peter’s my boyfriend!” 
At that moment, Steve, Sam, and Natasha surged forward, their voice rose in a chorus of shouts toward Bucky. 
“Buck! Back off!” Steve’s voice boomed over the bar, his demeanor, once calm replaced with a sense of urgency.
“She’s telling the truth, Bucky!” The sharp tone of Natasha’s voice cut through the tension, her eyes sent a warning for him to listen. 
“Bucky, chill out, man!” Carrying a note of understanding, Sam’s voice was firm. 
Bucky’s eyes darted between you, Peter, and the rest of your friends, flashes of confusion and anger warred on his face. Realization slowly dawned on him, his fists stayed clenched as he stepped back.
“Your… boyfriend?” he repeated, his eyes searching yours for confirmation, as his voice lowered to a whisper.
You nodded, stepping closer to Peter and taking his hand in yours– A silent declaration of your relationship. Your gaze meets Bucky’s with sincerity, pleading with him silently. 
Peter gave Bucky a nod, still dazed at the sudden confrontation. “I didn’t mean any harm, man,” he said, apologetic. 
Bucky’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening again as he looked toward Peter. “Who even are you?” he demanded, his tone accusing.
“James,” you said firmly, addressing Bucky by his given name as you struggled to keep your emotions in check. 
The tension hung thick in the air as Bucky’s gaze remained fixed on Peter, his expression slowly became unreadable the longer he stared. 
“I’m Peter,” Peter replied, his voice steady as he offered Bucky his hand. 
Bucky’s gaze flickered down to his outstretched hand. For a moment, it seemed that he might refuse the gesture, but after a pause… he reluctantly accepted it. His grip was unyielding. 
~
As the night progressed, you settled comfortably on Peter’s lap, the warmth from his body enveloped you as his hand traced gentle patterns along your sides and back. His breath was warm against your ear as he whispered sweet nothings, filling you with a sense of belonging. 
Meanwhile, Bucky sat across from you. You felt his gaze fixed on the exchange between you and Peter. His jaw tightened with every touch, his eyes flickering with frustration and something else you couldn’t work out. He had shifted in his seat, trying to focus on the conversations around him, however, his attention drifted back to you. 
You decided to break the ice with Bucky, hoping to lighten the mood and ease the thickening tension. Turning to Bucky, you mustered a smile.
“So, James, where’s Leah tonight?” you asked, trying to engage in genuine conversation with him. 
His gaze shifted from Peter’s hand on your hip to the crowded bar, his expression didn’t subside. “Working,” he replied, before sipping his beer. His response was curt. You noticed the way his grip tightened around the bottle, it was clear the night's events weighed heavily on him, and despite your attempts, you couldn’t understand why.
“Ah, that’s a shame,” you remarked sympathetically. Bucky merely nodded in response, remaining impassive. 
As the conversation drifted, you turned your attention back to Peter. His eyes met yours, a reassuring warmth emanating from the deep brown color. With a soft smile, he tightened his hold around you. 
~
Alone in your dimly lit apartment, you couldn’t shake the unease that followed you from the ba: The memory of Bucky’s accusing gaze and the tension. You felt restless and unsettled.
Just as you were about to head to bed, a sharp knocking at your door shattered the silence. With a furrowed brow, you made your way to the door.
You were met with the sight of Bucky as you opened the door. His face was slightly more bruised than earlier in the evening. “Can we talk?” His voice was low, carrying a weight that matched the gravity of the situation.
---
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americas-ass-writing · 3 months
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Happy Ending
Steve Rogers x reader
Words: 1.3k
Warnings: some swear words
A/N: For @fluffystevefest last day (it went by so fast)! Thank you for doing this 🥰
I wrote this on my phone so there will probably be mistakes 😅
Devider by @saradika-graphics
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Happy endings were something from fairytales. The real life didn't offer this. Steve would know. Every single piece of happiness was taken from him after way too short. His dad, his mom soon after, Bucky (who luckily returned to him), his own life. After trying to reclaim what he could of his life things looked better. He had friends, a found family, a sense of purpose... only for it to be taken far too soon. After the fight with Thanos everyone went their separate ways. Tony quit to be with his family, Natasha went on a lengthy solo mission. Sam and Bucky went on their own adventures after Steve gave the shield to Sam, too tired to continue being cap. Being someone he just isn't anymore. Thor went back to new Asgard. Bruce went to California. Which leaves Steve alone in New York. Alone to pick up the shambles of his and everyone else's life. Alone.
The only social contacts he has are Peter when he needs help with his history homework, the old man from across the hall who bakes too much and gives Steve some sweet treats every sunday and the stray cats in the alley behind the building that he feeds. And theres the people from the therapy group he leads... And of course the people on the street who absolutely seem to hate him and love to let him know.
Do his neighbors to the left that constantly fight so loud he hears every word count? Steve sighs as he hears then fight once more and he isn't strong enough to hold himself back. "Fucking finally break. up! The building is sick and tired of you two fighting! Move out!" He barks against the wall. Against the picture of him and his friends... who kind of broke up. No more avengers... No more found family. Steve blinks at the picture and mutters a sorry before someone bangs on his door. Great! It's probably the asshole from next door.
With another sigh he goes to open the door. The angry gnome from next door stops in his tracks, the red falling from his face faster than his eyes grow the size of dinner plates because of all people it was the ex captain America that just told him to fucking break up. "Uh..." Steve rolls his eyes at the stammering. "Listen, sorry for the profanities but damn I'm so annoyed at your constant fighting. Keep it down or I'll complain to the building manager." He says, his tone serious and the gnome nods as if Steve just gave him an order... Well maybe he did. Steves eyes flutter to the poor girlfriend who stands in the doorframe. She's cute. "You deserve better." Is all he says before he turns around, catches a glimpse of the old man, Stanley, across the hall and closes the door. He lets out another sigh and crawls back onto the couch. Silence at last... At least in his environment..his head is loud as ever as his eyes fall back on the picture of his found family. Maybe he should go visit Tony. Or maybe Clint on the farm? Maybe he could guilt trip them all to see him for his birthday? He purses his lips and is about to text them when there's a gentle knock on his door. He swears if it's that gnome again he'll punch him into the next century.
As Steve opens the door he's met with the most beautiful woman he's every seen. His eyes grow wider and his mouth opens slightly. "H...Hi! You don't know me, I just moved in on the other side of the loud apartment... I just uh... Thank you for making them shut up?" You give him and unsure smile and all he can do is nod and stare. Which makes you nervous. "I uh... I had the night shift and I should sleep but they were so loud I couldn't. I already knocked against the wall but that didn't stop them. So thank you again!" You ramble on, nervously wringing your hands. Something makes Steve snap out of it. "Oh! No problem... They annoy me a lot too, although I don't have... work..." He offers awkwardly and then he holds out his hand. "I'm Steve" you smile softly at that and put your hand in his, offering your name. He softly shakes it and maybe holds it for a bit too long, not that any of you care.
"I should let you get back to sleep. Night shift sounds awful. Exhausting job?" He asks with an easy smile. "Sometimes? It's just exhausting when you have the night shift immediately after your move to scream town" he chuckles at your joke, which makes your insides release thousands of butterflies. "Yeah I think the building manager makes them leave for showings. They didn't scream for mine or for Stan's showing" he points to the door across from him and you immediately know that that must be where Stan lives. "They probably do or they'd have an empty floor" you joke and there's another sweet chuckle. "I uh... Thanks again, I'll leave you to it." You say before he can answer and give him a sweet smile and a small wave before heading back to your apartment. Steves heart flutters as he watches you leave. Did screaming at the gnome just introduce him to the sweetest human alive? He closes his door after you've entered your apartment. With a new pep in his step he goes to his phone and reaches out to his friends.
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It's just a couple of days later when you knock on his door again. He's surprised to see you but oh so happy. "Hey sorry if I'm disturbing you" he smiles and shakes his head, urging you to go on. "I... That'll sound like I'm a creep but I uh... I saw you feed the strays and I wanted to bring you some food for them." You hold up the bag of food and Steve smiles sweetly. "Yeah... I started feeding them when I moved in. Can't have 3 cats though and I can't just take one. Would be a shame to separate them" he says as he takes the bag from you and thanks you sweetly. "Yeah it would be... They're so cute though" you gush and he smiles even more. "Hey uh... Wanna come in? Stan made too much cake and gave me like half of it... We could share?" You immediately nod and give him a shy smile. "I'd love that" Steve beams at that and let's you in. As you sit down he gets some tea for the both of you and gives you some cake.
One slice of cake turned into two. That turned into dinner and dinner turned into the two of you kissing on his couch. Kissing on his couch turned into a beautiful relationship filled with love and laughter. Steve has never been happier and he vowed to the universe to give everything in his power to not lose you. And whoever in the universe listened fulfilled his wish. A short engagement led to a beautiful outdoor wedding on Tony's property with everyone from his found family showing up. The two of you bought a house and moved in together with the 3 strays that you just couldn't leave behind. And your little family soon grew to a family of 7 when you got pregnant with twins.
Steve has never been prouder to carry a title then the title of daddy. Little chubby hands around his finger, big eyes taking in the wonder of the world and your beautiful smile as you're watching him with your little ones.
If Steve would have to describe a happy ending it would be this. You, his little ones and the 3 cats.
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