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nhlclover · 16 days ago

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DOROTHEA LUKE HUGHES

pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: luke's sophomore season is far from what he had imagined. the weight of expectations, buried by the grueling pain of a long season begins to weigh on him. so, when the mid-season break rolls around, instead of going to four nations to watch his brothers, luke heads back to michigan in hopes of finding his love for hockey again.

warnings: vague mentions of anxiety, luke being extremely self critical, poor self-conscience, a bit of swearing, fictionalized events (e.g, how the devils season is going, games that haven't happened yet)

wc: 8.40k

notes: based on ‘dorothea’ by taylor swift. this one will may or may not tug at your heart strings. also quite a bit of this is made up. i know luke isn't having a bad season whatsoever + the devils aren't doing that bad. it's for the sake of the story!

“That’s not fucking good enough Hughes!”

Luke barely registered the assaulting tone of his coach’s voice above his labouring breaths. His chest heaved as he bent at the waist, gloved hands braced on his knees, lungs screaming for oxygen that never seemed to come fast enough. Every inhale burned, every exhale was shaky and ragged. Sweat dripped in a relentless stream down his temples, pooling in the collar of his jersey and turning his pads into a suffocating prison.

Just twenty-six more minutes of hockey, Luke reminded himself. Just twenty-six more minutes until thirteen, blissful hockey-free days.

The Four Nations break, a reprieve that couldn’t come soon enough, felt tantalizingly out of reach. It felt like time had slowed during this game, making it even more painful for Luke.

It wasn’t just his joints that ached or his lungs that burned; it was deeper than that. It was bone-deep. Soul-deep. It was the kind of ache that didn’t go away after a night of icing and a couple of ibuprofen. This was exhaustion — not just of the body, but of the mind.

This wasn’t the way Luke’s sophomore season was supposed to feel.

Luke entered the season with expectations stacked high enough to scrape against the rafters. Media outlets had anointed him the next big thing — another Hughes boy destined for stardom. His debut season had been solid; a Calder finalist-worthy season, in fact. Flashes of brilliance here, mistakes there, but he was still a kid learning the ropes. They’d forgiven him then. But now? Now they wanted dominance. Consistency. Leadership. They wanted him to be everything.

And he was coming up short.

The cold, hard fact of it was written across the scoreboard: 3-1 Canadiens, late in the second. The Devils couldn’t sustain any pressure in the offensive zone, the power play was sluggish, and the defensive breakdowns were enough to make Keefe nearly burst a blood vessel on the bench. Luke knew he wasn’t solely to blame, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was still somehow on him. That he wasn’t doing enough. That maybe he wasn’t enough.

“Get your head out of your ass and look like you’re trying to do something, Luke!” Keefe said from the other end of the bench.

Luke didn’t look up. He couldn’t. He simply absorbed his coach's words, shoulders sagging as he grabbed a towel to wipe his face. The damp fabric felt cool for a fleeting second before the heat radiating off his body rendered it useless.

“Hey, shake it off man,” Nico said from a few people down. The captain leaned forward, hands wrapped tightly around the edge of his stick. “Plenty of time left.”

Luke nodded mutely, not trusting his voice. Plenty of time. Sure. That’s what they always said until the buzzer sounded and it was too late. He stared down at the ice in front of him, tracing invisible patterns with his eyes, trying to block out the noise of the crowd, the critical eyes of the coaching staff boring into him, and the sharp stab of self-doubt that never quite went away.

He felt like he was moving underwater. Every shift was a struggle to keep up, every decision a split-second too late. Passes he’d made effortlessly when he was playing college hockey were suddenly bouncing off the heel of his stick. He hesitated when he should attack. He pinched when he should hold back. And he knew — God, he knew — the more he overthought it, the worse it got.

The crowd erupted as the Canadiens scored again. Luke didn’t need to look up to see the damage. The groan of the goal horn, the flashing red light, and the collective exhale from the bench told him everything he needed to know.

Luke gripped his stick tightly, knuckles white beneath his gloves. Twenty-six more minutes.

Blissful, hockey-free days loomed in the distance like a mirage. But would they really feel that way? Would he be able to shut it all off — the doubt, the pressure, the lingering echoes of every misstep? Would time away help him get his head back on straight, or was this just the start of something darker?

A few weeks ago, Luke had turned down multiple invitations from his teammates for getaways to white sandy beaches and crystal-clear waters. Nico was going to Cancun, Timo was going to the Bahamas. All of them were going on getaways for some much-needed rest and relaxation. But Luke couldn’t. He needed something more than just the sun. He needed a mental reset. A return to something grounding.

When the final buzzer blared, signalling yet another disappointing loss, Luke didn't even glance up at the scoreboard. The sting of defeat was something he’d grown uncomfortably familiar with, but it didn’t hurt any less. As he skated off the ice and into the tunnel, his legs felt like lead, his mind clouded with frustration and exhaustion.

He went through the monotonous routine of a loss; pulling off his sweat-soaked equipment one piece at a time while hearing a berating speech from Keefe outlining every single mistake they made, then spewing the same PR rehearsed answers to the media as he was forced to do availability yet again.

As soon as he was out of the arena, Luke pulled out his phone, scanning his notifications. While Jack took to pestering his brother in person, Quinn had messaged him earlier in the day, asking if he’d changed his mind about coming to watch them at Four Nations. It was the first time Quinn and Jack would be on the same team again since their younger days, and they’d been excited about the chance to represent Team USA together.

Quinn: It’s been a minute since we’ve all been in one place. Would be good to see you.

Luke sighed. A younger version of himself would’ve jumped at the chance to be there. To be around his brothers, the guys who’d been his idols growing up. But now, the thought of sitting in the stands, watching them thrive, only highlighted the weight of his own struggles. They deserved his support, but Luke wasn’t sure he could handle being there, feeling like the odd one out in his own family. The longer Luke thought about what he needed to do and where he needed to go, the clearer it became.

Michigan. That was where he needed to be. Not Cancun. Not the Bahamas. Not at Four Nations, no matter how much he wanted to see Jack and Quinn dominate together. Luke had made his decision. Back home was where he needed to be.

As he settled into his seat on the plane, the distant hum of the plane engines and the chatter of fellow passengers faded into the background. His thoughts settled on Michigan. He didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he knew it was there. The pull was inexplicable and undeniable, like gravity tethering him to a place he used to call home.

The wheels touched down with a jolt, and Luke pulled his coat tighter against the January chill as he stepped out of the terminal. The air smelled of snow and wet pavement, a scent so distinctly winter in Michigan that it stirred a pang of nostalgia in his chest.

He drove the winding roads back to his childhood neighborhood, the landscape coated in a blanket of fresh snow that shimmered under the streetlights. When he pulled into the driveway of the Hughes family home, the familiarity hit him like a slap. The dented hockey net at the end of the driveway and the porch light his mom insisted on always staying on, even when no one was home — it was all the same. And yet, it wasn’t.

Inside, the house was silent. Ellen and Jim were already in Montreal for Four Nations, cheering on Jack and Quinn as he’d known they would be. The usual warmth of his mom’s laughter, the clatter of pots in the kitchen, and his dad’s voice offering quiet encouragement were all absent. Instead, Luke was greeted by an almost eerie stillness.

He dropped his bag in the hallway and stood there for a moment, taking it all in. The framed photos lining the walls, the scuffed wooden floors from years of indoor hockey games with his brothers — it was like stepping into a time capsule of a simpler life. A life before contracts and endorsements, before fans and expectations, before the weight of the NHL threatened to crush him.

Luke’s footsteps echoed as he made his way to the den. The fireplace was unlit, the room cold. He collapsed onto the couch, running a hand through his hair and staring at the ceiling. His chest still felt tight from the game, his body aching in a way that told him he wasn’t just physically tired but emotionally spent.

Luke had expected something — comfort, nostalgia, maybe even peace. Instead, he was met with an odd hollowness, a space in his chest that Michigan didn’t instantly fill. Maybe that was the point. He wasn’t the same kid who had once called this place home. Still, despite the emptiness inside him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his path back to himself began here. He didn’t know when or how he’d feel whole again, but he was certain it wouldn’t happen overnight. It wouldn’t happen in Cancun, the Bahamas, or even on the ice in a Devils uniform. If it could happen anywhere, it would be here — in Michigan.

The next morning, hunger and boredom pushed him out of the house. He didn’t have a plan beyond grabbing coffee and then hitting the grocery store. He drove aimlessly through the familiar streets, his heart pulling in two directions — nostalgia and unease. Every corner, every turn, held memories of the life he’d left behind.

He parked outside a coffee shop he vaguely remembered from his college days. It was a cozy spot nestled between a record store and a florist. The bell above the door chimed softly as he stepped inside, the scent of fresh coffee and pastries wrapping around him like a warm blanket.

Luke stood in line, scanning the menu even though he already knew he’d get a black coffee and maybe a bagel. Habit, plain and simple. Once he ordered, he scanned the room for a table to sit at.

That’s when he saw you. At first, he wasn’t sure. The years had softened and matured parts of you, but there was no mistaking the way your hair fell or the way you were chewing on your lip as you stared at your laptop, the way you always did when you were deep in thought. The sight of you hit him like a puck to the chest — unexpected and jarring.

He hadn’t thought about what he would say if he ever saw you again. and yet, there you were, just a few feet away. For a moment, he considered slipping out unnoticed, but the thought disappeared as quickly as it came. Some invisible force propelled him forward, just like it always had when it came to you.

The two of you had been inseparable growing up. You knew each other better than anyone. Your bond had always been easy, natural. But it had never been simple.

Luke remembered the stolen glances, the way his chest tightened whenever you laughed at one of his dumb jokes, and the electric charge that sparked whenever your hands accidentally brushed. It was a relationship constantly teetering on the edge of friendship and something more — a delicate balance neither of you dared to upset.

He remembered the time when you were both sixteen, sitting on his front porch while the post-game party buzzed inside the house. Luke’s team had won in overtime, securing a state championship and the celebration had carried over to the Hughes’ home. Despite the noise behind him, all he could focus on was the way your cheeks flushed from the cold, the way your breath formed soft clouds in the crisp night air. He had been on the verge of telling you how he felt when the front door burst open and his brothers and their friends came bursting out, effectively breaking the moment.

Following that, Luke shoved his feelings down deep. You stayed close, intimate friends, remaining his one constant. Until you weren’t. He was at the University of Michigan, and you were at Boston University. At first, you two had tried. Long phone calls after late practices. Texts full of inside jokes and encouragement before exams. Plans to visit that always fell through because his schedule was relentless, and yours wasn’t much better.

Eventually, the calls got shorter. Then they stopped altogether. Luke remembered how, one night, he’d stared at his phone with your name highlighted on the screen, his thumb hovering over the call button. Michigan had just lost in the Frozen Four semifinals, and he didn’t want to talk to anyone else except for you. It was always you Luke spoke to after the bad games. But the weight of his exhaustion, the pressure of his family’s expectations, and the overwhelming chaos of his life had pressed down on him until he just put the phone down and rolled over in bed. He never called.

He told himself it was mutual, that life had just gotten in the way. But seeing you now, he wondered if he had been the one who let go first.

Then, as if you felt a pair of eyes on you, you looked up to find the familiar set of green eyes looking back at your own. Your eyes widened in recognition, and for a second, neither of you moved. It was like the air around you both had shifted, growing heavier with the weight of unspoken words and time lost.

“Luke?” you said, your voice a mix of surprise and something softer, something harder to place.

He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey. It’s been a while.”

That was an understatement. It had been more than a while. It had been years. Years since late-night study hang-outs turned into whispered confessions, since your laughter echoed in his ears as you teased him about missing his fifth straight penalty shot during pond hockey. Years since he’d kissed you in the downstairs bathroom at Isaac Howards' house during a round of Seven Minutes in Heaven. Years since he left, and the texts and calls dwindled into nothing.

“Yeah, it has,” you said, shifting your coffee cup between your hands. Your voice was tinged with something he couldn’t quite place — bitterness? Sadness? Maybe both.

“Yeah. Too many.” He looked down at the table, suddenly unable to meet your gaze. “I’m sorry about that. I should’ve—”

“Called?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

He winced but nodded. “Yeah. I was an idiot. No excuses. I just… I don’t know. Things got crazy.”

You let out a soft laugh, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I noticed. A tiny screen’s the only place I see you know.”

Luke looked up, and the warmth in your smile soothed some of the guilt still gnawing at him.

“I guess I deserve that,” Luke admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He shoved his hands into his pockets, unsure of what to do with himself. “I’ve missed you, though. More than you probably believe.”

The tension lingered for a moment before your expression softened. Something about the way Luke's shoulders slumped, the weight he seemed to carry in his eyes, made you ease up. He wasn’t the confident kid you remembered, always ready with a joke or a smirk. He looked… tired. Like he’d been through the wringer and hadn’t quite come out the other side.

You gestured to the empty seat across from you. “What brings you back to Michigan? Shouldn’t you be playing right now?”

Luke hesitated momentarily but that same pull sent that thought out quickly and Luke sunk down into the chair. “Yeah, I should. But we’ve got a mid-season break and uh… I needed to get away for a bit.”

You nodded knowingly. “Rough season?” you asked, even though you knew all too well how the season was going. Despite the no contact and the years between you, you still found yourself watching his games, keeping an eye on the number forty-three that zipped around the ice.

“You could say that.” His eyes flickered down to his cup, fingers idly picking at the paper sleeve. “Just trying to figure some things out.”

You nodded slowly, studying him. It wasn’t like Luke to open up so easily, but the strain in his voice, the way he seemed smaller somehow, told you he needed this — needed someone to just listen. “How long are you in town for?”

“A week, maybe a little longer. Depends.” he shrugged, attempting a casual tone, but you caught the uncertainty beneath it.

“Well,” you said, your voice lightening, “since you’re here and since it’s been… well, too many years, do you want to grab dinner tonight? Catch up properly?”

His eyes widened slightly like the suggestion had caught him off guard. For a second, he looked like he might say no, but then his lips curved into a small, genuine smile — one that reminded you of the old Luke. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Dinner plans were settled, and a quick double-check that you still had each other's current numbers followed before parting ways temporarily. Luke had a small smile on his face as he walked out of the coffee shop, his coffee forgotten in his hand. You had been the last person he expected to see, but somehow, it felt like exactly what he needed.

The restaurant you’d picked was a cozy spot you’d discovered a little bit ago that had become one of your favourite places to eat out — nothing fancy, just good food and a relaxed atmosphere. When Luke arrived, the nervous energy radiating off him was palpable. It made him seem much more approachable than the polished player you thought he’d become.

“You clean up nice,” you teased as he slid into the booth across from you, his cheeks reddening slightly.

“Thanks,” he said, laughing softly. “You too. Not that you didn’t already look nice earlier.”

“Smooth,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow as you glanced at the menu. “You always this good at compliments?”

“Only with you,” he quipped, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The banter came easily, flowing like it used to in the days when late-night conversations over pizza were a regular occurrence. You found yourself slipping into old habits — teasing him about his inability to order anything outside of his comfort zone and laughing at his stories about Jack and Quinn.

Luke, for his part, couldn’t stop watching you. It wasn’t just how much you looked the same, though you did in so many ways. It was the way you carried yourself, the way you smiled and laughed like no time had passed at all. And yet, there was something different, too — a confidence that hadn’t been there before, a quiet strength he found himself drawn to even more than he had been back then.

But the laughter and lighthearted conversation couldn’t completely drown out the nagging thoughts in his mind. As you talked, Luke found himself thinking about how much he’d screwed up. He’d let the distance between you two widen, let life pull him in one direction while he let go of the thread that connected you both. He’d told himself it was just how life went — people grew apart. But now, sitting across from you, he couldn’t believe how wrong he’d been.

“You okay?” Your voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present.

Luke blinked, realizing he’d been staring at you a little too long. “Yeah. Sorry. Just… thinking.”

“About?”

He hesitated, the words caught in his throat. How did he even begin to explain? That he regretted letting you slip away, that he’d been an idiot for not fighting harder to keep you in his life?

“Just… how crazy it is to run into you like this,” he said finally, skirting around the truth. “I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to catch up with you.”

You smiled, but there was something wistful in your eyes. “Yeah. Life has a funny way of throwing surprises at you.”

The conversation shifted back to lighter topics after that, but Luke’s mind lingered on his regret. Every laugh, every shared memory, every glance reminded him of what he’d lost — and what he didn’t want to lose again.

As the night wore on and the restaurant emptied out around you, neither of you seemed eager to leave. The conversation deepened, and the teasing gave way to more heartfelt exchanges. You talked about what you’d been up to in the years apart, the struggles and triumphs, the paths you’d taken that had led you back to Michigan.

When the server finally dropped off the check, Luke reached for it before you could. “I got this.”

You frowned. “Hey, it was supposed to be my treat. It was my idea to get dinner anyways.”

“And I’m saying I owe you one,” he countered, his expression soft but firm. “Please. Let me.”

You relented, watching as he handed his card to the server. “Fine. But next time, it’s on me.”

Luke froze for a moment, the words “next time” ringing in his ears. He looked up at you, a small, hopeful smile playing on his lips. “Next time, huh?”

“Yeah,” you said, your tone light but your meaning clear. “Next time. You’re here for a few more days, right?”

Luke couldn’t bite back the smile that tugged on his lips. “Y-yeah. Next time.”

The next few days passed in a blur of shared moments. You carved out time from your busy schedule, meeting Luke for coffee, going on impromptu drives through your old favorite spots, and even hitting the gym together. He insisted he couldn’t slack on his training, and you, eager to spend more time with him, agreed to join.

At the gym, Luke was in his element, focused and disciplined, but there was an ease to his demeanor when you were around. He showed you proper form on certain exercises, his hands brushing yours occasionally as he adjusted your grip or stance. Each time, your heart skipped a beat, though you tried to hide it behind playful jabs about his “personal trainer” persona.

But amidst the laughter and lighthearted moments, you also fell back into the habit of sharing quieter, heavier conversations, confiding in one another once again. One evening, after a long day, the two of you sat on your couch, an old movie playing in the background as you nursed glasses of wine. Luke had been quieter than usual, and you could tell something was weighing on him.

Luke, despite his mood significantly lifted as he spent time around you again, couldn’t shake the weight that followed him from New Jersey. The doubts gnawed at the edges of his thoughts, even in moments of laughter and ease. Being with you was a welcome reprieve, a chance to remember a version of himself that wasn’t defined by statistics or expectations. But deep down, he couldn’t ignore the voice that questioned if he’d ever truly get his groove back — if the player he once was was still in there, waiting to be found, or if he’d lost that spark for good.

“You wanna talk about it?” you asked, breaking Luke from his incessant thoughts.

Even after being apart for a few years, you could still read Luke like a book. He got no better at hiding what was running through his mind as he got older. That, or you got better at reading people as you aged. Though you were always good at it.

“No, no… It’s a lot, don’t worry about it.” Luke answered, focusing back on the movie playing, though he had missed so much of the plot he wasn’t sure what was happening anymore.

“C’mon,” you said, sticking your foot out and nudging his thigh with your toe. “It’s me.”

It was you. You had always kept his secrets, even his deepest darkest ones, like when he confided in you about how he didn’t know if he wanted to pursue hockey, despite it being practically expected of him. You also always knew what to say, giving the best advice, like when you told him he was being irrational because hockey was all he thought of and what he had dreamed of since kindergarten.

He hesitated, his eyes fixed on the deep red liquid in his glass. “It’s just… hard, you know? This season. Everything feels off. I keep messing up, and it’s like no matter how hard I try, I can’t shake it. The comparisons to Jack and Quinn — they’re constant. And the worst part is, I feel like they’re right. Like I’m not good enough to be in the NHL.”

Luke’s voice cracked slightly as he continued, his grip tightening on the glass. “It’s like I’m not even me anymore. I’m just… Jack and Quinn’s younger brother. The one who hasn’t lived up to the hype. The one who’s just an extension of them.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m so tired of it. Of being seen as this kid who only got here because of who he’s related to.”

You placed your glass on the coffee table, shifting to face him fully. “You’re tired of being known for who you know,” you said gently, watching as his eyes flickered toward yours, the weight of your words visibly landing.

Luke nodded slowly, his jaw tightening. “Yeah. Exactly. I just want to be Luke. Not someone’s little brother. Not some placeholder. Just… me.”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “Then start there,” you said. “Stop letting other people’s opinions decide how you see yourself. You’re not Jack. You’re not Quinn. You’re Luke — the guy who’s passionate, hardworking, and ridiculously competitive.” A small smile tugged at your lips. “I’ve seen that side of you, even when you were a kid. You always wanted to carve your own path. And you’re doing that now, whether you feel it or not.”

He exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly. “It’s hard to believe that sometimes.”

“I get that,” you said, your tone soft but firm. “But Luke, your brothers didn’t get you to the NHL. You got you there. They’re part of your story, yeah, but they’re not the whole story. You’ve earned this. You belong here. And I know it feels like you’ve lost your way, but maybe this slump is just part of figuring out how to be the player you want to be.”

Luke looked at you for a long moment, his green eyes filled with a mixture of doubt and something softer — hope, maybe. “You really think I can turn it around?”

“Luke. You really think your entire NHL career is over after one bad season?” you said, snorting at your own words. Luke couldn’t help but chuckle at his own over-dramatics. “I know you can turn it around… I have no doubt. But you need to start believing it yourself.”

A faint smile replaced his troubled expression, and he set his glass aside, leaning back against the couch. “You always know what to say.”

You grinned, nudging his knee with yours. “That’s because I’ve always believed in you, Luke. Even when you don’t believe in yourself.”

For the first time that evening, Luke let out a quiet laugh, the sound lightening the mood. “Thanks,” he murmured, his voice soft. “For being here. For… everything.”

“Always,” you said, meaning it more than you realized.

The rest of the night passed quietly, the two of you lost in conversation and shared memories. And as Luke left your place that evening, he felt lighter, the weight on his shoulders not entirely gone but more manageable.

The next day, the realization that it was Luke’s last night in Michigan crept into every shared moment. It added a bittersweet edge to the laughter and easy camaraderie that had blossomed between you over the past few days. You both avoided bringing it up during dinner, the unspoken knowledge settling between you like a silent companion.

After the meal, Luke suggested going for a walk. The winter air was crisp, and the stars shone brightly in the clear Michigan sky as you strolled down familiar streets, your breath visible in the cold. You pulled your coat tighter around you, glancing at Luke as he walked beside you, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“Thanks for spending so much time with me this week,” he said after a while, breaking the comfortable silence. “I know you’ve got a lot going on.”

You smiled softly. “I wanted to. Besides, it’s been nice… like old times.”

Luke chuckled, though there was a wistfulness in it. “Yeah, it has. Better, even.”

The two of you fell silent again, the sound of your footsteps crunching on the snow-covered pavement filling the void. You turned onto a quieter street, where the houses were dark, their occupants already tucked away for the night. You glanced at Luke, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his mood having shifted from a moment ago.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you teased lightly, hoping to coax him out of his silence.

He stopped walking, turning to face you. His expression was serious, his brows knit as though wrestling with something he hadn’t planned to say. “I think I’ve been running from a lot of things,” he began, his voice low and steady, “but especially you.”

The words hung in the air between you, raw and unexpected. Luke took a step closer, his green eyes searching yours. “When we drifted apart, I told myself it was just the way things had to be. That the distance, my career — it was all just part of life. But I see now… I could’ve fought harder. I should’ve fought harder. For us.”

His admission made your chest tighten, a mix of emotions flooding through you. You had spent years wondering if he regretted letting you go, if he missed you as much as you missed him. And now, hearing the regret in his voice, it felt both validating and bittersweet.

“Luke…” You took a breath, steadying yourself. “It hurt, you know? Losing you. But I understood why you made the choices you did. Your career — it’s everything you’ve worked for, and I didn’t want to be the one holding you back.”

“I never thought of it that way,” he interjected quickly, his tone earnest. “You were never holding me back. If anything, you grounded me. You believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself. And I’m sorry. For not saying that. For not fighting harder to keep you in my life.”

You nodded, emotions welling in your chest. “I won’t lie — it was hard. But I’ve always rooted for you, Luke. Even from afar, even quietly. Even if it meant letting you go.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet of the night wrapping around you like a fragile cocoon. Luke’s gaze softened, and he nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t deserve you,” he said softly.

“Enough with what you do and don’t deserve,” you said shaking your hand. “Cause you’re stuck with me anyways.”

The walk back to your car was quieter, but the silence wasn’t heavy. It was filled with a sense of understanding, of unspoken words that no longer needed to be said.

The next morning, as you drove Luke to the airport, the mood was bittersweet. He promised to keep in touch this time, and for once, you believed he might actually follow through. When you hugged him goodbye, he lingered for a moment longer than usual, as if reluctant to let go.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” you said, pulling back to meet his eyes.

“You too,” he replied, his voice softer than usual. “And thank you. For… everything.”

After Luke returned to New Jersey, something shifted within him. The heaviness of expectation and self-doubt hadn’t completely vanished, but your words lingered in his mind like an anthem: You’ve earned this. You belong here.

For the first time in months, he started seeing his struggles not as failures but as opportunities to grow. Instead of obsessing over his brothers’ accomplishments or the weight of media scrutiny, he set smaller, personal goals. Maybe he wouldn’t assist on every goal scored in every game or win the Norris, but he could focus on winning his battles in the corners, improving his breakout passes, and becoming a reliable presence on the ice.

That renewed mindset brought subtle changes to his game. At first, it was just flashes — an extra step to break up a play, a crisp pass that led to a goal. His confidence grew with each small victory, and while the slump didn’t disappear overnight, it didn’t feel insurmountable anymore.

Through it all, you and Luke became each other’s anchors. Despite the distance, your late-night conversations became a constant. You’d talk about everything — your classes, his games, old memories, and future dreams. Sometimes, the chats were lighthearted, filled with laughter as you teased him about his weird superstitions, like tying his left skate before his right. Other times, they were raw and vulnerable, as you vented about the pressures of school and fear of what came beyond graduation.

It wasn’t always easy. There were nights when his games ended late, or you were swamped with assignments, but both of you made the effort. The bond you shared was undeniable, and as the weeks passed, Luke found himself thinking about you more and more. The idea of a life without you felt incomplete — like something vital was missing.

One night, after a grueling loss to the Washington Capitals, Luke couldn’t shake the disappointment. He had played well, but the team had faltered, and the sting of another defeat hung heavy in the air. Sitting in his car outside the arena, he found himself dialing your number.

You answered on the second ring, your voice warm and familiar despite the late hour. “Hey, everything okay?”

Luke hesitated for a moment before sighing. “Not really. I’m getting better at handling the pressure, but…something still feels off.”

“Want to talk about it?” you asked softly.

He leaned back in his seat, staring at the dashboard. “I hate that I’m here and you’re there,” he admitted. His voice was raw, tinged with frustration. “I hate that I keep letting distance get in the way of us. It’s like, no matter how well I play or how much I try to focus on hockey, it doesn’t feel right. Not without you.”

His confession hung in the air, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You had felt the distance too, in quiet moments when you wished he were there to share a laugh or hold your hand. But hearing him say it made the ache more real.

“I miss you too,” you finally said, your voice quieter now, but steady. “More than I can put into words. But Luke…this, us — it’s worth fighting for. Even if it’s hard sometimes.”

Luke closed his eyes, letting the weight of your words sink in. He’d known it deep down, but hearing you say it gave him a renewed sense of clarity. “I know it is. I just… I don’t want this to feel like something I’m waiting for. I want it to feel like something we’re building.”

“And we are,” you reassured him. “Every late-night call, every text, every moment we make time for each other — it’s not just waiting, Luke. It’s us figuring it out together. And as much as I’d love for things to be easier, maybe this is how we know it’s real. Because even when it’s tough, we still choose each other.”

His chest tightened, not with sadness, but with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. You always had this way of grounding him, of reminding him what mattered most. “How are you so good at this?” he asked with a soft laugh, the edges of his frustration beginning to melt away.

“Good at what?”

“Making me feel like I’m not completely screwing everything up,” he admitted.

“Because you’re not,” you replied firmly. “You’re trying, Luke. That’s more than enough. You’re enough.”

A few weeks later, as the regular season wound down and playoffs loomed, you found yourself on another late-night call with Luke. This time, he seemed lighter, more at ease, even as the intensity of the season ramped up. It was a stark contrast to the stressed, self-critical tone he’d had earlier in the year.

“You ready for the playoffs?” you asked, genuinely curious. The way he’d been playing lately, it seemed like he’d turned a corner, but you couldn’t help wondering how he was handling the weight of it all.

“Yeah,” he said simply, without hesitation.

His answer caught you off guard. “You’re not nervous?”

“Nope.” He chuckled, and you could practically hear the shrug in his voice. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited. But nervous? Not really.”

You smiled to yourself, a wave of pride and relief washing over you. “That’s new.”

“It is, isn’t it?” he admitted. “I don’t know… I think I finally realized that worrying doesn’t help. I’ve spent so much time obsessing over being perfect, over trying to measure up to everyone else, that I forgot to just enjoy playing the game. And honestly, I’m tired of carrying all that pressure around. Hockey’s supposed to be fun.”

Hearing him say it so confidently, so matter-of-factly, made your heart swell. For months, you’d watched him wrestle with self-doubt, pushing himself to the brink in search of validation. Now, he sounded like someone who had finally made peace with himself — or at least started to.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” you said softly. “It’s not easy to let go of that stuff.”

“It’s easier with you,” he replied, his voice tinged with warmth. “You’ve always been in my corner, even when I wasn’t in my own. That means everything.”

The playoffs arrived sooner than Luke anticipated, and with them, a surge of pressure that made it harder to focus on anything outside the rink. But Luke stepped onto the ice for Game 1 with a steadiness that surprised even him. The crowd roared, the energy was electric, and though the stakes were higher than ever, he didn’t let it overwhelm him. Instead, he focused on the little things — staying composed under pressure, trusting his instincts, and playing the way he knew he could. Game by game, he chipped away at his self-doubt, leaning into the mental resilience he’d been building all season.

The Devils clawed their way through the first two rounds, overcoming grueling battles and earning every victory. Luke’s performance was a reflection of his growth. While he wasn’t the flashiest player on the ice, he was reliable, steady, and clutch when it mattered most. He had a knack for breaking up key plays, making smart decisions under pressure, and even contributing a few timely assists and goals that had the crowd on their feet.

Through it all, you were there, albeit through a screen. You found a way to catch every game, even the ones that happened in between your exams, forgoing studying to watch Luke zip around the ice. Your support grounded him, a reminder that no matter how chaotic things got on the ice, he had someone who believed in him unconditionally.

By the time the conference finals arrived, the Devils were a team to be reckoned with. Facing off against the Carolina Hurricanes, the series was a war of attrition — fast-paced, physical, and emotionally draining. Luke felt the pressure mounting, but he refused to let it control him. Instead, he leaned into the same mantra that had carried him through his struggles earlier in the season: You’ve earned this. You belong here.

The series stretched to six games, with each one more intense than the last. Luke played some of his best hockey, blocking shots, setting up plays, and doing whatever it took to keep his team in the fight. But in the end, the Hurricanes proved too strong. In Game 6, with the Devils down by a goal late in the third period, Luke was on the ice for a final push. They came heartbreakingly close, but the buzzer sounded, and just like that, the run was over.

The locker room was heavy with silence afterward, the weight of the loss pressing down on everyone. Luke sat at his stall, still in his gear, staring at the floor. It hurt — of course it did. But this time, the pain wasn’t accompanied by the same crushing self-criticism he’d once felt after losses. Instead, he felt a deep sense of pride. They had made it this far, farther than many had expected, and he knew he’d left it all on the ice.

Later that night, he called you.

“Hey,” he said, his voice surprisingly calm.

“Hey,” you replied, bracing yourself. You’d seen the loss and expected him to be devastated. “How are you holding up?”

He surprised you with a small chuckle. “Honestly? I’m okay. Don’t get me wrong, it sucks, but… I feel like I gave it everything I had. That’s all I can do, right?”

Pride swelled in your chest. This wasn’t the Luke you remembered from a year ago, who would’ve let the loss consume him. “I’m so proud of you,” you said sincerely. “For how you’ve handled all of this. You’ve grown so much, Luke.”

Your words stayed with him long after the call ended, echoing in his mind like a steady drumbeat. You’ve grown so much, Luke.

Your graduation day dawned bright and warm, the campus alive with energy as classmates, friends, and families gathered to celebrate. You felt a swirl of emotions — pride, excitement, and a faint wistfulness. While you were thrilled to be closing this chapter, part of you couldn’t ignore the ache of someone missing. You had tried to manage your expectations, knowing Luke's NHL schedule and how taxing the playoffs had been. But as you slipped on your cap and adjusted your gown, you couldn’t shake the quiet hope that maybe, somehow, he’d be there.

The ceremony itself was a blur of speeches, applause, and cheers. Crossing the stage, you accepted your diploma with a wide smile, the weight of your hard work finally lifted. Afterward, you joined the throng of graduates filtering toward the quad, where your family had promised to wait. Spotting them amidst the crowd, you waved, your heart swelling with love as you saw your mom, dad, and younger brother standing together. But then, your eyes caught on something — or someone — else.

Luke was standing behind them with a bouquet of fresh daisies, baby's breath, and soft pink roses tied with a satin ribbon. His boyish grin was unmistakable, and it softened the moment your eyes met. The disbelief must have been written all over your face because his grin widened as he gave you a small wave.

Your legs carried you forward without hesitation. First, you hugged your parents and brother, exchanging congratulations and laughter, but your gaze kept darting back to Luke. Finally, you stepped toward him, your voice catching as you said, “What…? You’re here?”

He held the bouquet out to you, a little sheepishly. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything,” he said, his voice low and warm. “You’re one of the most important people in my life. I had to be here.”

Your chest tightened with emotion as you accepted the flowers, their sweet fragrance mingling with the warmth of his presence. “Luke, I didn’t think—”

“I know,” he interrupted gently, his eyes steady on yours. “And I’m sorry for making you think I wouldn’t come. But I wanted it to be a surprise. Your mom helped me with it, actually.”

You glanced over at your mother, who wore an undeniably large grin that stretched across her lips, her eyes practically sparkling with the kind of knowing satisfaction only a mother could have. She had always harbored a soft spot for Luke, often claiming he was the one boy you’d never quite forget. She firmly believed, with the quiet certainty that only years of maternal instinct could provide, that no matter how far life took you, he was the one you’d eventually find your way back to in the end.

Luke pulled your eyes back to his as he spoke again. “You’ve been there for me every step of the way, even when I didn’t deserve it. This is your moment, and I wanted to be part of it.”

Tears prickled your eyes, but you blinked them away, laughing softly as you shook your head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Yeah, I’ve been told,” he teased, his smile making your heart ache in the best way. “But seriously, I’m so proud of you. You did it.”

You didn’t think, you just stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. He pulled you close without hesitation, his embrace grounding you in a way that only he could.

As you pulled back from the hug, you caught your mother’s subtle signal—a raised brow and a little nod toward Luke. She knew, of course. She always knew. With a quick glance at your dad and brother, you gave them a look that clearly said, I need a minute alone with him.

“Why don’t we grab some photos?” your mom suggested, steering your dad and brother toward a picturesque spot by the fountain. You mouthed a quick thank you before turning back to Luke.

“Want to take a walk?” you asked, motioning toward the quiet pathways that wove through the campus.

“Lead the way,” Luke replied, his hands slipping into the pockets of his suit pants.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the hum of distant laughter and celebration filling the air. You made your way toward a shaded grove near the library, a place where you had spent countless hours studying. Today, it felt almost sacred, a fitting backdrop for this moment.

“I’m glad you came,” you said finally, breaking the silence.

“I’m glad I’m here,” Luke replied, his voice earnest. “I’ve been thinking about this day for a while.”

You glanced at him, your heart skipping at the way his jaw tensed like he was working up to something.

“Listen,” he began, stopping in his tracks and turning to face you. His green eyes, usually bright and playful, were serious now, searching yours. “I’ve spent the last year trying to figure out how to say this without screwing it up, but here goes.” He took a breath, his shoulders rising and falling. “You mean the world to me. You always have. And I know I didn’t always handle things right between us — I’ve made mistakes, I’ve let hockey, distance, and my own insecurities get in the way — but you’re the one person I can’t imagine my life without.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he wasn’t done. “I don’t want to keep pretending that what we have is just history or that I’m okay with being just friends. Because I’m not. I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for years, and I don’t want to waste another second not saying it.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and electric. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The honesty in his eyes, the way his voice trembled just slightly—it was everything you had once hoped to hear from him and more.

“Luke,” you said softly, taking a step closer. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll give me a chance,” he replied, his voice steady despite the vulnerability etched into his features. “Say you’ll let me show you that I can be the person you deserve. Say you’ll be with me.”

A smile broke across your face, and before you could overthink it, you nodded. “Okay,” you said, your voice catching on the emotion swelling in your chest. “Yes. I’ll be with you.”

Luke’s smile was a mixture of relief and joy, as though he had been holding his breath and could finally exhale. He took a step toward you, his hands reaching out, and for a moment, it felt like everything in the world had paused — just the two of you, finally on the same page.

He gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, and you felt the weight of the moment settle between you. Then, his gaze shifted upwards, and he chuckled softly. “Can’t kiss you with this thing on,” he teased softly.

Luke carefully slid the cap off your head, setting it aside on a nearby bench. The small gesture felt oddly intimate, like he was making room for something even more meaningful.

When his hands returned to your face, the warmth between you both felt undeniable. He leaned in, this time without hesitation, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was tender at first, like he was savoring the moment. The way his lips moved against yours was more sure, more confident, and you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, realizing just how much better he was at it now than when he was 16.

When he finally pulled away, you both breathed deeply, as though trying to catch your bearings after such a powerful kiss. A small laugh escaped your lips, and you smirked, your heart racing. “You’ve definitely gotten better at that,” you said, your voice light with amusement.

Luke chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m glad you noticed,” he said, a smug grin tugging at his lips. “But I’m just getting started.”

You walked back toward your family, hand in hand with the boy who had always been a part of you. It was a moment to savor, but also one to look forward to—a future that felt just a little bit clearer, and a little bit brighter, because of him.

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagine #new jersey devils

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ihaznoclue · 5 months ago

Note

Can I request headcanons for TFP Wheeljack, Ratchet, Smokescreen, Knockout, and Optimus Prime reacting to his shy gn s/o kissing him on the lips in hopes it would make him feel better because he had a bad day please?

AHHH MY VERY FIRST TFP REQUEST AND THIS IS A CUTE ONEEE! TYSM <3

Pairings -> WheelJack, Ratchet, Smokescreen, Knockout, Optimus Prime x Reader

Warnings -> None

Note -> Their shy soulmate kissing them hoping it makes them feel better after a bad day

Genre -> Fluff

WheelJack

Wheeljack is not having a good day at all after being lectured by the one and only Ultra Magnus

Wheeljack did something foolish again and now he is being told off like he is a child

Wheeljack just didn't seem to care as he walked away from the yelling from Ultra Magnus who was trying to get Wheeljack back

But he didn't seem to listen as he went to his berthroom to let off some cool as he locked himself in there to not get another lecture from Optimus's second commander

With you, you just came back from school with the others as you were picked up from Bumblebee with Raf

You were 18 years old about to graduate from school and that you were glad since you were such a introvert but you seemed to be comfortable around the others especially Wheeljack

Speaking of Wheeljack, you didn't seem to find him anywhere in the base

The base was huge but you couldn't see him, so you asked the only bot who was here before you arrived

Ultra Magnus groaned as he said that Wheeljack caused another ruckus and that he went to lecture him but he seemed to wonder off which appears to be his berthroom

So that's where you headed off too, wanting to see if Wheeljack was okay

So you knocked in a pattern to let him know it was you

The door quickly opened to reveal your guardian and lover

He slouched down to place his hand in front of you

You accepted his invitation as you gently stepped into his hand and he went to his berth

He placed you down on his chest as he laid down

"You okay Jacky?"

"What makes that guy think he can boss me around, it's like he's acting like a god damn parent to a child"

You wanted to make him feel better so you started to sit up

It seemed that Wheeljack was too busy complaining as you move closer to him

Your heart started to beat faster as you neared closer and then..

You kissed him for only a few seconds

Then backed away to meet his face that read shock

You then sat on his chassis as you started to blush, Wheeljack then came back to reality

"Another"

"What?"

"Did I stutter? I want another one"

"Wait- I did that because you were complaining-"

He then sat up, now you were in his hand as you couldn't go anywhere as he lifted you up to his face as he smirked

Oh boy...

You weren't going to get out of this one

Ratchet

This grumpy robot can't even get a break seeming that he is a medic that can only help heal the others

He also didn't like the noise the children love to make especially Miko who keeps playing her guitar

He seemed like he was about to break

Until there was a honking noise coming into the base, Bumblebee seemed to have picked you up from the hospital

You stepped out as everyone greeted you except Ratchet

Ratchet was so concentrated with his studies that laid before his optics

Seeming he was too busy to greet you, so you let it slide for a bit

But it went for a while until the end of the day where everyone was resting even the kids who wanted to have a little sleepover

They were sleeping on the couch while the other robots were the rest

But Ratchet was still up since he doesn't really get any rest

You also, you had insomnia and that you were introvert that didn't like anything but to be alone

But everyone seemed to turn that around but right now you wanted to see if Ratchet was okay

You went up the stairs and then went where Ratchet was standing

"Ratchet?"

No response

"Ratchet? Are you okay, you haven't spoke in a while to me"

"I'm fine"

"You don't seem fine.."

You heard a sigh as he was now looking at you

He didn't want to take his anger out on you so he placed a hand out for you to stand on

You didn't say anything but stood on his hand as he lifted you up

"I'm fine, Just having a bad day sweetspark"

"Want me to help you with that?"

He raised an eyebrow as he looked confused on how you're going to help him with that

You mentioned him to come closer as you smiled

He was close enough so you then gave him a little kiss which made hi optics widen in shock

"That's how"

You could clearly see the Energon rush to his cheeks

Smokescreen

Okay so I feel like he wouldn't have a good day because he's always treated like a little kids towards the others

And he didn't like how he's always treated like that

So the only way to get him to stop being upset is to go to his sweetspark

Which is you

He loved how you didn't titled him as childish on how he acts towards the others

But he can be a little bit too much but he was still your lover

Even though you were quite the quiet type but he found you interesting to him as he tried everything to get you to talk to him now you were comfortable talking a lot to him

But today was the day to help him instead

Currently you were with the others on the couch while Jack and Miko were playing racing games on the small TV

Raf was doing some computing stuff

And you were quite bored out of you mind, checking your phone was an option but it didn't seem to interest you as much

You then felt a touch on the top of your head as you turned around to see Smokescreen

He looked a little upset but he still smiled at you with his charming smile of his

You smiled back at him, Smokescreen then put his hand out for you to crawl in

He then took you to his berthroom then set you down on his chassis as he started to rant about his problems

Smokescreen seemed pretty upset so you wanted to try and help him the best way possible

So you thought of one thing that you sometimes rejected Smokescreen from since you were the nervous type to stuff it up but this time

You were sure going to do it this time

So you did it

You kissed him

He went silent as if you broke him

"Um.. Smokescreen? You okay bud-"

"Do it again"

"Wha-"

"I want you to kiss me again"

"I- uh" Now you were completely stuttering over your words

But instead Smokescreen delivered the same action to you

Knockout (HIS SMIRK BRO- UGHHHHH HE'S SO GORGEROUS)

Okay this flirty bastard would like it

But today would be a day that he wants to un-alive himself as Starscream seems to rant about something and how Megatron should be dead and that he would be Lord instead

Knockout wanted to leave but he couldn't or else Starscream would yell at him even more than he already is

That's when you returned

Knockout was happy to see you

You knew Knockout wanted to leave by the face he was making so you swallowed a bit as you felt nervous so you told Starscream that Lord Megatron needs him

Starscream growled as he stomped his way out of the room, leaving you and Knockout alone

"What's wrong with him? He's more grumpy than usual"

Knockout took out a hand for you as you accepted

He lifted you up on the desk

"Nothing special, Just the original rants that want me to end my spark"

You slightly chuckled

"We perhaps should go to the laboratory before Screamer comes back"

You nodded as you crawled back into his hand, he started to walk to his Laboratory where all his gears and tools were as well as a desk and a table for experiments

He then set you on the desk gently

He still looked annoyed so you wanted to change that

Annoyed face didn't look good on him

So you asked if he could lift you up to his face

"Hey Knockout, Can I do something but I would have to be close to you"

He didn't say anything of it as he lifted you up to his face

"What do you need sweetspark?"

You took a deep breath as you leaned close to give him a kiss that lasted a few seconds then you backed away

You felt flustered at the action you just did and hope Knockout won't be mad

"If you wanted a kiss, you could've just told me~ Sweet spark~"

That flirty tone

Looks like he won't be forgetting that in a while

Optimus Prime (MY HUSBANDDD)

Okay this big guys can't even get a break from this civil war that has been going on between Autobots and Decepticons

So he's always the busy autobot leader that has to take care of business in his own hands, fighting his enemy Megatron

So right now Optimus and the other Autobots except Ratchet went on a mission

You were stuck in the base with Ratchet and the kids

You were sitting on the couch while Miko and Jack were playing video games

Raf was sitting near Ratchet, helping him with some stuff

You were bored, very bored

You could ask Jack or Miko if you could play but you didn't have the courage to ask them so you stood up and walked around

It wasn't anything too special until a voice came through

"Ratchet, we going to need a ground bridge" It sounded like Bulkhead

"It seems that an Autobot is down"

Ratchet said as he walked over to the lever to pull it down to activate the ground bridge

You hoped that it wasn't Optimus

Even though he's a big bot, he can still get hurt badly

You saw them walking through and you could see Bulkhead and Bumblebee helping Optimus

Looks like it was Optimus after all, this made you worried as you walked up

"What happened to Optimus?"

You asked worriedly hoping it was nothing too bad

"I'm fine, Little one"

Optimus tried to reassure you but you felt worried

"Optimus, Let me check you and then you should get some rest. It's quite late in the night" Ratchet spoke

You stayed by Optimus's side to make sure he was okay

Now you two were in his berthroom, you were quite the worried type

Always making sure if he was okay

"Little one I reassure you I'm okay, As Ratchet said I just need rest"

"Yeah, but you scared me"

"I'm sorry Sweetspark, I hope to make it up to you"

"There might be something but I have to get close to you though"

He raised an eyebrow, confused but obeyed

You were close enough so you went ahead and gave him a little kiss

He looked clam as you backed away but the blue on his cheek tell otherwise

"I.. Thank you Little One, That made me feel a little better"

"If you need anymore, Just let me know"

Looks like I fell asleep trying to finish this so I finished it in the afternoon and my friend is currently dying on a Instagram call with me LMAO

-A<3

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dovesdreaming · 5 months ago

Text

Chilled to the touch

Summary: reader always runs warm and needs a frost giant to cool her down.

A/n: Sorry for not being very active I’ve been in work a lot but I promise I’ll write my planned fics on Thursday and Friday (my days off) <3

Masterlist

Warnings: none

Loki stretched out on the plush velvet couch, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he watched you pace back and forth in front of the large, open windows. It was a particularly warm evening in the tower, and the cool breeze blowing in from the city below did little to alleviate the heat. Beads of sweat gathered at your temples as you fanned yourself in a vain attempt to find some relief. “You know” Loki drawled, his voice a smooth purr, “there is a far easier way to cool yourself down, my love”. You paused in your pacing, glancing over at him with an exasperated huff. “Not everyone has the luxury of being a frost giant, Loki”. His grin widened. “But you do have the luxury of being with one”. He patted the empty space beside him on the couch, the invitation clear. “Come here”.

Despite the heat, you couldn’t resist the allure of his smirk, nor the promise in his words. Crossing the room, you settled beside him, your skin already feeling cooler just being near him. Loki shifted, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you close until your head rested against his chest. The coolness of his skin was a stark contrast to the warmth that clung to you, and you sighed in relief as your body relaxed into his embrace. “Mmm, that’s better” you murmured, closing your eyes as you nuzzled into him. “You’re like my personal ice pack”. Loki chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath your cheek. “I do aim to please” he replied, his tone dripping with playful arrogance. “And it seems I’m quite good at it”. You opened one eye to glance up at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Don’t get too full of yourself, Laufeyson. You’re useful for more than just your cold skin”. “Is that so?” Loki’s voice took on a mockingly wounded tone, though the amusement in his eyes betrayed him. “And here I thought that was my only redeeming quality”. “Oh, it’s definitely up there” you teased back, letting your hand trail over his chest, the coolness of his skin seeping into your palm. “But I guess your charm and good looks aren’t too bad either”. “Such flattery” Loki mused, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your back. “I might be tempted to let it go to my head”. You laughed softly, the sound melting into the comfortable silence that settled between you.

Loki’s touch was soothing, and the coolness radiating from him was like a balm against the oppressive heat. You could feel the tension in your muscles begin to ebb away as you melted into him, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek lulling you into a state of blissful relaxation. After a few minutes, Loki shifted slightly, drawing you even closer. “You know” he said, his voice low and teasing, “if you keep using me as your personal cooling device, I might start charging a fee”. You smirked, not bothering to open your eyes. “And what exactly would you charge?”. “Hmm” Loki pretended to consider this, his fingers continuing their lazy path along your back. “Perhaps a kiss for every degree I bring your temperature down”. “That could get expensive” you replied, matching his tone. “What if I can’t afford your outrageous prices?”. “Then I suppose you’ll have to find another way to pay off your debt” he murmured, his breath cool against your ear. You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “I think I can manage that”.

Before he could respond, you pressed your lips to his, the coolness of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. Loki responded instantly, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you entwined in the moment. When you finally pulled back, your cheeks were flushed, not from the heat, but from the intensity of the kiss. Loki’s eyes were darker, filled with a warmth that had nothing to do with temperature. “Worth every penny” you whispered, a soft smile curving your lips. Loki chuckled, his thumb brushing gently over your lower lip. “You do have a way of making even the most outrageous deals seem appealing”. “I’ll take that as a compliment” you replied, leaning back into him and closing your eyes once more. “Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll take advantage of your services a little longer”. “As you wish” Loki said softly, his voice a soothing rumble as he held you close, his cool touch keeping the heat at bay.

You drifted off to sleep in his arms, the warmth of the day forgotten in the comforting chill of his embrace.

Thank you for reading!

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chilling-seavey · 6 months ago

Note

I got a request for George, watching him teach your son how to play backgammon while you nurse your newborn daughter

↳ A/N The sweet vision this put in my mind just needed to be written down! I still feel like I didn't write it as nicely as I can picture it but I hope you guys enjoy <3 a little fluff for your Friday night

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 1.6k

↳ Warnings: None, it's unedited if that needs a warning lol

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, the once vibrant blue sky softened into a gentle shade of periwinkle. The early evening was tranquil, with the rhythmic lapping of waves against the yacht’s hull filling the warm Mediterranean air with a soothing cadence.

You were surprised your son was still going after a full day of playing in the sun. He had spent hours leaping off the yacht into the crystal-clear ocean (only after you and George had spent at least an hour convincing him that no sharks would be involved), zooming around on the jet ski with George at a toddler-friendly speed, and concocting endless games on deck—games that always seemed to involve a lot of running. Despite a brief hour’s nap in the cabin, too excited to miss out on any fun, he was still going strong well past dinner.

With bedtime approaching, and in desperate need of winding him down, George struck a deal: he’d trade another swim in the sea for a fun game on the yacht. Out came the backgammon board—George’s beloved set, worn with years of use—ready to be set up on the deck table. Your son knelt on a chair, eyes wide with anticipation, his tiny hands eagerly reaching for the round pieces as George arranged them, trying his best to keep the game intact before it even began, while explaining the rules to your curious two-and-a-half-year-old.

You smiled fondly at him from your spot on the bench beside George—who was seemingly permanently shirtless on this vacation and in only his swim shorts—with your two week old baby daughter fussing in your arms. Her sweet face was scrunched up in displeasure, hungry and wanting to eat, until you finally got her to latch onto your breast with practiced ease and she quieted right down with a content sigh. You gently brushed your hand over her light downy hair and cradled her comfortably in your arms, supporting her head as she startled to suckle and swallow contentedly.

From beside you, already a bit into describing the game to your son, George pointed to one of the two dice on the board, asking him, “How many dots is this?”

Your son stared at the two dice on the mahogany board, his little lips pursed in thought. He shifted on his knees on his chair before glancing across at George and mumbling a, “Two?”

“Yes, good boy, this one’s two.” George then moved his finger to point to the second one, “What about this one?”

“Three.”

“Not quite. Try again?”

“Five.”

“That’s it. That’s five.” George folded his arms on the table top, glancing down to the board set up between them, “So you can pick any of your white pieces and move them two spots or five spots to start. Which one do you want to move?”

The little boy analyzed the board for a moment, eyeing the way the white and brown pieces were so meticulously arranged in a pattern. Finally, he pointed to one of his white pieces, his little index finger poking the circle.

“Okay, and how many spots would you like to move that piece? Two or five?”

“Two.” your son said matter-of-factly.

“Two, okay.” George leaned forward again, resting his finger at the tip of the point on which the little boy’s choice piece was resting, “So we’ll count two triangles counter-clockwise to find its new spot.”

Although your toddler hadn’t the foggiest idea what ‘counter-clockwise’ meant, he nodded at the words of his father and followed him trustingly. When George moved his finger to the next point beside the first, the two counted together, “One…”

And then the next one, “Two.”

George moved your son’s chosen piece to that new point. The little boy beamed proudly.

“Brilliant.” George told him, “Now you still have five spots to move. Which white piece do you want to move five spots?”

Another glance at the board and your son pointed to another random white piece, “That one”

“Okay, count five triangles with me.”

Again, George rested his finger at the tip of the chosen point, moving spot by spot as they counted together to reach five. Except, the point on which they landed, already held a collection of George’s brown chips. He looked across the table at the little boy with a flat, “Oh.”

Wide eyed, your son looked back at him, startled by the sudden shift in George’s demeanor.

George explained, “Daddy has pieces there so you can’t move there.”

“Why?”

“Because if the other person has two or more pieces on that spot, you can’t go there.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s the rules.”

The little boy’s face scrunched up in annoyance, eyebrows furrowing over judging blue eyes.

George licked away his forming smile, instructing him, “Pick another piece to move five spots.”

The toddler pointed to the same piece.

“No, buddy-” George laughed softly again, covering that line of white pieces with his hand, “These are the ones you can’t move.”

As if an avid problem solver at not even three, your son told him like it was the clear solution with a point to the other direction on the board, “Go that way.”

“You can only go this way.” George said, gesturing counter-clockwise for the boy.

“Why?” the toddler huffed.

“Because that’s how the game works.”

Your son pouted and flopped back onto his bum on the chair, crossing his little arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes at his father. George struggled to hold back his fond smile at the adorableness of his little boy no matter how mad and frustrated the toddler tried to appear.

As George gently coaxed him to continue the game, you turned your attention to the baby nestled in your arms. She suckled contentedly at your breast, her long lashes fluttering against her full cheeks as she gazed up at you, fighting the pull of sleep. One tiny hand rested against your chest, her presence a warm, comforting weight. It was a true blessing, you thought, that both your children were the near spitting image of George from birth, with his big blue eyes and soft blonde hair that you wondered might darken as they grew up, just as his had.

Your fingers gently traced the contours of her tiny frame, feeling the soft fabric of her frilly bathing suit, down to her chunky little legs, still naturally bent as if she were still trying to uncurl from nine months inside you. With a comforting pat on her bum, you smiled tenderly, listening to the faint sounds of her greedy gulps as she nursed, the swaying of the yacht helping to rock her in your arms.

Then, from across the table, your son called you with a determined, “Mama.”

You tore your eyes away from the baby in your arms to look over at him, “Yes, sweet boy?”

He pointed an angry finger across the table at his father with a tattling, “Daddy’s mean.”

With a side-eyed glance to amused George beside you, you answered your son as seriously as you could muster, “How is Daddy mean?”

“He plays wrong.”

George laughed, “Hey, I’m playing correctly. You’re just throwing a fit because I’m not letting you cheat.”

That got him a big pout directed back at him.

You looked over at George, suggesting softly, “Maybe he’s too young to learn this game.”

George sighed with a fond smile at his pouting son, “Maybe so.”

The little boy stuck out his tongue at him.

George stuck out his tongue back.

“Okay, okay, you two,” you chuckled softly, resting a calm hand on George’s bare shoulder before sliding your fingers up into the back of his hair, “let’s pick a different thing to do before bed. Something less emotionally taxing on the both of you.”

Torn away from the game with his son, George’s attention was pulled to you and the baby in your arms. He broke into a grin and leaned in a little closer, reaching a hand out to gently caress her little cheek with the back of his finger as her jaw flexed as she fed. As he doted on your newborn daughter, you turned to your son.

“What do you want to do now then, my love? Just a storybook and then bed?”

“No bed.” he whined, his pout deepening as he glanced at the baby in your arms, perhaps sensing the shift in attention.

Although George’s attention was on the baby with his finger gently tickling over her tiny knuckles, he spoke to you in a soft singsong voice, “Someone’s overtired I think.”

You continued to compromise with your son, “Bed soon, yes, but not right now.”

George chimed in, glancing towards him even as the baby wrapped her tiny fingers around his one, his eyes twinkling with affection, “We want to get lots of sleep tonight so we can go on more adventures tomorrow, don’t we?”

Your son seemed to ponder that statement for a moment before nodding reluctantly.

“Okay,” George tenderly pulled his finger from the baby’s grasp and sat back, leaving you with a kiss to your temple before turning his attention back to your son, “come help Daddy pick out a storybook and you can help me read it to baby sister, sound good?”

The little boy broke into a bashful smile over the idea of being helpful with his new baby sibling while he struggled to familiarize himself with sharing his parents and his life with someone else. He held his hands up to George who scooped him up into his arms with a dramatic groan. From his higher vantage point, in the comfort of his father’s embrace, your toddler wrapped his little arms around George’s broad shoulders, hands clutched against his bare skin with a proud smile in your direction.

As they disappeared below deck to pick a storybook from the plethora that had been brought on vacation with you, you took that moment of quiet as the sunset to appreciate your growing family and the love that filled your heart.

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incognit0slut · 7 months ago

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Much Ado About Nothing (Act III, Scene I: The Fake Dating)

It doesn’t occur to you how serious the situation has become until you're forced to sign your fake relationship on paper.

Part warning: none, this might be the slowest burn I have ever written Words: 2.4k A/n: The original plan was to update this series twice a week, but I overestimated myself, so I will be posting each Thursday around this time. I hope you understand <3

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Spencer wasn’t sure how he would go through with this. The idea seemed simple enough on the surface—pretend to date, fool everyone, and finally find peace. Yet, the more he thought about it, the more complex it became, and the more complicated it was, the more crazy it seemed.

This was not what he had signed up for when he joined the BAU. Chasing criminals? Sure. Analyzing behavioral patterns? Absolutely. But pretending to date you to avoid the relentless meddling from his friends? Insane wasn't a strong enough word for it. It was ludicrous.

And even that word wasn’t enough. It was downright preposterous. How had rational, analytical work turned into this bizarre social experiment? Yet, here he was, ready to play his part even when he couldn’t ignore the absurdity of it all.

“Well, well, well.” Spencer looked up to see you walking from the opposite direction, both of you stopping right at the entrance of the bureau’s expansive building. “If it isn’t my new boyfriend.”

He narrowed his eyes. Why did you seem… so normal about this? Weren’t you the one who hated his guts? Weren’t you the one who avoided him every time you had the chance? Were you really that desperate to get the team off your back?

“What? You’re not going to greet your girlfriend?”

He forced a smile, trying to hide his irritation. “Good morning,” he replied curtly, opening the door for you.

You walked past him, and Spencer tried not to stare at you, but it was impossible to ignore the way your hair shone under the morning sun or how your perfume subtly filled the air as you brushed by him. He cleared his throat and followed you inside, wondering how long he could keep up this act without losing his sanity.

“We need some ground rules,” he muttered, nodding towards security as you both passed through the entrance.

You raised an eyebrow. “Ground rules? You mean besides pretending to be madly in love?”

“We are not in love. We just started dating,” Spencer said, pressing the elevator button. “So no spontaneous public displays of affection. We don’t want to overdo it.”

“What’s your definition of overdoing it?”

Spencer waited until the elevator doors slid shut, giving you a little privacy. "No touching. Especially no hand-holding," he stated firmly.

You scoffed. "Who on earth wouldn't want to hold their girlfriend's hand?"

He replied without missing a beat. "Do you know how many germs are transferred when you hold hands? An average of 3,000 bacteria from 150 different species, not to mention the potential viruses.”

“Wow, remind me to never shake hands with you during flu season.”

He shrugged. “I’m just stating the facts.”

“Okay, germaphobe,” you deadpanned, leaning back against the elevator wall. “What’s acceptable then? A nod from across the room? Morse code blinking?”

He considered for a moment, then offered a compromise, “How about an arm around your shoulder when we’re sitting? Or a quick side hug?”

“Side hug,” you echoed, mockingly horrified. “How romantic. Our friends will believe we’re madly in love for sure.”

“We are not in love.”

“So you’ve mentioned,” you replied dryly, standing straight again and turning toward him. “Can we at least try to look like a couple who actually like each other?”

That was the problem. You both didn’t like each other. “Fine,” he sighed. “What do you suggest?”

You paused, considering the best way to make this look believable. “How about you hold onto my waist from behind as we walk? It’s a common gesture, and it looks natural.”

Spencer blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. “Hold your waist? As in, really close?”

“Yes, Reid, that’s generally where the waist is located.”

He frowned at you. “That sounds a bit too… personal, don’t you think?”

“Isn’t that the whole point? To convince them we’re a couple?”

He hesitated, the image of his hands on your waist flashing through his mind. He suddenly imagined the warmth of your body against his, the subtle, pleasant scent of your perfume enveloping him. He could almost feel the way you’d be tucked right to his side, your height fitting perfectly against him, your head nestled just below his chin.

His heart unexpectedly started to race. The idea of holding you that close, feeling the rise and fall of your breath, the slight brush of your hair against his cheek—it was almost too intimate, too real. And he didn’t want to acknowledge that. He wasn’t sure if he could trust himself to play the role convincingly without his emotions betraying him.

“Reid?”

Spencer snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he had been silent for too long. You were watching him impatiently.

“You know what? Do whatever you want.” You turned away, facing the elevator door, clearly frustrated by his hesitation. “Just stand there like a statue for all I care.”

His eyes slowly fell to your waist, considering his options... Maybe it wasn’t that bad. The idea of his hand resting there, guiding you, didn’t seem as unbearable as he initially imagined. The gesture seemed innocent enough. Not too much, not too little. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything, apparently. Because it happened all at once.

One, he reached his hand toward you.

Two, the elevator door swung open.

And three, as you started to move forward, his hand managed to slip before it landed onto your ass.

You shrieked at the top of your lungs.

"Reid!"

Spencer's face turned red as he quickly retrieved his hand, stammering, "I-I'm sorry! That wasn't—"

But he wasn’t fast enough, because standing on the other side of the elevator door was Derek, witnessing the whole thing. His eyebrows shot up, and a slow grin spread across his face.

"What do we have here?” Derek drawled, crossing his arms. "Spencer Reid, getting a little too friendly?"

Spencer's mortification deepened as he tried to explain, "It's not what it looks like, I swear!"

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "Sure, pretty boy. Whatever you say." He stepped to the side. “Well, aren’t you two lovebirds going to get to work?”

Trying to recover from the embarrassment, Spencer nodded quickly, his face still burning. He guided you out of the elevator with a brief, cautious touch on your back that stayed strictly in the safe zone.

You both hurried toward the glass doors, leaving Derek laughing behind you. You slightly leaned closer to him. “I could sue you for sexual harassment, you know.”

“It was an accident! You moved too quickly.”

“Sure, blame it on me,” you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you pushed through the glass doors ahead of him.

Spencer quickened his pace to keep up, matching your brisk walk. “I am blaming it on you. This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t suddenly decided to move forward.”

“Right, because clearly, I should have anticipated your clumsiness.”

He shot you a sideways glance. “My clumsiness? You’re the one who—”

“There you are!”

You both turned to see JJ walking toward you, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Hotch is looking for you.”

You started to walk away. “Sure, I’ll go see him—”

JJ shook her head, her smile widening. “No, you don’t understand. He’s looking for you,” she pointed a finger at Spencer, then swung it back to you, “And you. Both of you, together.”

Spencer raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. “Both of us? Why?"

“Something about filling in paperwork?”

He frowned, but as the implication of Hotch calling you both at the same time for paperwork sank in, he snapped his head toward you, his eyes wide with realization. You turned toward him at the same moment, and the gravity of your seemingly innocent lie spiraled down on him, making the whole situation feel alarmingly real.

The weight of it pressed on Spencer’s chest. How could he possibly forget about the most important thing in all of this? He had an eidetic memory, he was good at recalling even the smallest details, but how could he not remember the need to officially disclose workplace relationships?

The reality of potentially signing official documents to confirm this fake relationship made his palms sweat.

“This is stupid,” you whispered when JJ finally left the two of you. “Maybe we should think this through.”

Spencer looked down at you. You were right, this was stupid. It was getting out of hand. But as he noticed the way you stared up at him, with your wide, doe-like eyes sparkling under the light, something shifted. This whole lie had started as a means to an end, a way to fend off the relentless teasing. But now, standing there with you, it felt like more than just a plan. Maybe it was the thrill of the unknown, or the strange comfort of the lie. Maybe it wasn’t just about fooling the team.

Maybe he was starting to fool himself too.

Spencer took a deep breath. “No,” he said softly, more to himself than to you. “We started this, we should go through with it.”

Before you could respond, he placed his hand on your lower back, feeling the warmth of your body through the thin fabric of your blouse before his palm slid over to your waist. Your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden gesture, but you didn't pull away.

What have you done?

You couldn’t believe you had actually signed the papers. The weight of the pen felt so heavy in your hand, the ink seeming to dry slower than usual as you scrawled your name on the dotted line. This was supposed to be a simple, harmless plan, but now it was documented. Official.

How did it come to this?

You watched as Spencer took the pen from you, his hand brushing yours momentarily. He glanced at you before turning his attention back to the document. The hesitation was brief, but you saw it—the flicker of doubt before he pressed the pen on to the paper and signed his name next to yours.

What the hell are we doing?

��Alright,” Hotch said, taking the papers and giving you both a nod. “This is a bit formal, but it’s necessary under bureau policy. If there are any changes in your relationship status, you should report immediately.”

You nodded, barely hearing his words over the pounding of your heart.

“Again, congratulations.”

Your stomach churned. You were going to be sick.

“Thank you,” Spencer responded. Hotch then dismissed you both, and as you turned to leave, Spencer's hand gently touched your back. You were the one who urged him to act his part, but it felt too intimate, too real at that moment. You quickly increased your pace, putting some distance between you as you walked down into the bullpen.

Penelope was sitting on your chair, chatting animatedly with the rest of the team in the open space. She looked up when you both arrived. “Well, look who’s back!” Penelope called out. “How did it go?"

You weren't surprised everyone understood what being called in, together at that, by Hotch implied.

“It went… as expected,” you replied, forcing a smile. Spencer stood a bit awkwardly beside you, his usual composure slightly ruffled.

"This is amazing,” Penelope sighed. "Oh! you know what we should do?"

You eyed her warily. "What?"

"This totally calls for a celebration!"

Your eyes widened. "Let's not—"

"Are you guys free this weekend?" Penelope turned toward the rest of the team.

Derek leaned back in his chair with a wide grin. "You know I'm always up for a party."

Spencer looked between you and the rest of the team, clearly uncomfortable. "I don't think that’s necessary—"

"He's right, Spencer isn't much of a party freak," JJ chimed in, joining in the conversation from her desk. "We should do something more relaxing."

"No, that's not what I meant—"

"You know what we haven't done in a while?" Emily asked, walking closer with a thoughtful look before she settled onto your desk, leaning slightly against it. "We haven't gone to the pool lately."

Penelope perked up at the idea. "Rossi's villa?"

Emily confirmed her with a nod. "Rossi's villa. He’s always saying we should use it more anyway.”

At any given chance, you would jump at the idea. You loved relaxing by the pool. You loved basking under the sun with a cool drink in your hand, the smell of chlorine in the air, and the refreshing splash of water on your skin. And Rossi’s pool was the perfect place for that.

It was a villa located an hour’s drive away that seemed more suited to a resort than a private residence. It was far from the city, mostly unoccupied, but always welcoming. You had been there before, stayed overnight there too, and all those fun memories were still vivid in your mind. You even recalled the time Emily was caught skinny dipping at night. Or the time Derek kicked Spencer out of the pool after realizing he had been hustling him at basketball the week before.

It had been fun then, but the more you reflected on those memories, the deeper your frown became. They had happened way before everything fell apart, before the tension had strained your friendship. It was a time when everything felt simpler, when Spencer was one of your closest friends. And now, ironically, he was your boyfriend.

Fake boyfriend.

"So it's settled, then?" Penelope’s voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to the present.

Honestly, you didn’t want to go. How were you even going to pull this off? A weekend by the pool, while usually the perfect highlight for your summer, now felt like walking into a scripted play where your every gesture would be scrutinized. Not just by anyone, but by skilled profilers who could sniff out a lie like a shark smells blood in the water.

The fear of being exposed, of embarrassing yourself—or worse, damaging your career—was gnawing at you. It made you increasingly anxious. Yet backing out wasn’t an option either. It would raise too many questions and invite too much speculation.

So you closed the distance between you and Spencer and linked your arm through his, ignoring the slight panic in his eyes. “Sure,” you said, turning to Penelope as you mustered a smile. “Sounds fun.”

Penelope beamed at you. Spencer, on the other hand, felt the exact opposite. The idea of spending an entire weekend pretending to be in a relationship filled him with dread.

And he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was bound to go wrong.

#much ado about nothing #gifwriting #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid series #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction

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child0feden · 7 months ago

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HONEY HAMILTON

lewis hamilton x wife! reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughter

♡ how winnie hamilton / honey came to be!

୨୧ just some really fluffy girl dad stuff with lewis <3

♡ related smau available here, related hc available here and here | view my formula 1 masterlist here

reading music recommendations: no moon at all by julie london - oceans by new navy

♡ you found out you were pregnant right around christmas time!

୨୧ to say you were excited to tell lewis would be an understatement…

♡ you were practically bouncing off the walls, thinking of cute ways to tell him! he noticed how smiley you were but didn’t comment on it, figuring you were just excited for christmas

୨୧ you decide to wait until christmas day to tell him, preparing a little box with a miniature version of lewis’ race suit inside reading “ mini hamilton ” on the back, wrapping it and placing it under the tree when you were happy

♡ eventually, christmas rolls around and you tell him to please leave that gift for the last! he’s a little confused but thinks it’s just something really good ( oh yeah, it is )

୨୧ when he finally gets around to it, unwraps it and opens the box… he thinks it’s a little outfit for roscoe at first but when he really pulls it out and looks at it, you can see the gears turning in his head, the exact moment it clicks and his brown eyes light up like the sparkling lights wrapped around your christmas tree

“ are you serious? oh my god… bloody hell, i thought it was for roscoe… c’mere love ” ( you spend at least five minutes just hugging on the floor while he tells you this is the greatest christmas gift he’d ever received )

♡ when you guys tell the other drivers, they’re all so happy for you! they quickly decide between themselves that there can only be one favourite uncle…

୨୧ this leads to way too many gifts, some things that the baby won’t even be able to use until they’re older!

♡ though it does make you and lewis laugh when you walk into the paddock and are immediately bombarded by drivers giving you wrapped gifts

୨୧ george decides he won after he bought a custom made mini replica of lewis’ race car ( you think he won too, i mean it’s just too cute and unique )

♡ lewis is just the absolute best when it comes to you being pregnant, he sort of really wishes you’d sit on the couch with your feet up and a drink in your hand while he paints your nails but if you feel sad just sitting around constantly, he’ll gladly go on walks with you and roscoe around the countryside

୨୧ once on one of these walks, your foot made a weird movement and almost twisted but he caught you as soon as it happened… he swears he felt his heart stop beating in his chest!

♡ when you find out you’re having a girl, lewis is over the moon! he’d be happy with any gender but he can’t wait to have a little girl and do her hair and spoil her rotten and play barbies with her…

୨୧ you both have a little cry in the car outside of the clinic, just so happy to know your baby is healthy and you’re getting a girl… the crying doesn’t last long though, soon enough you’re craving a milkshake with french fries and ask lewis to grab some takeout on the way home

♡ when you’re giving birth, lewis just feels terrible… he can’t handle seeing you in so much pain :(

୨୧ but he comforts you the best he can, drawing patterns on the back of your hand while you almost break his

♡ when you finally give birth, lewis starts crying right along with his baby’s first cry

୨୧ when he does skin to skin, you ogle him from the hospital bed which he quickly takes note of and sends a cheeky wink over to you

“ careful with your eyes love, we don’t need you getting pregnant again just yet… ” ( you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face )

♡ the absolute hardest thing lewis has ever had to go through was winnie’s teething process…

୨୧ he was a MESS! he didn’t know how to cope

♡ he absolutely hated seeing his sweet little baby winnie in so much pain, knowing there was nothing he could do to help her except keep giving her the ice teething toys :(

“ awh, winnie, i’m sorry, i know it hurts honey, i know… you’re being so strong though hm? my brave girl ” ( you’d make sure to give him lots of reassurance that he’s doing the best he can to help her through it )

୨୧ unsurprisingly, winnie’s favourite cartoon turns out to be winnie the pooh!

♡ she watches it religiously with lewis, constantly letting out airy giggles around her bottle while lewis admires her with nothing but love in his eyes

୨୧ he nicknamed her honey because… well… y’know, winnie the pooh loves honey and she’s as sweet as honey ( not to mention she got his beautiful eyes, brown but almost golden, like a pot of honey ) he thinks it’s pretty straight forward <3

♡ sebastian is a HUGE fan of the nickname, he thinks it’s just adorable and calls her honey bee whenever he comes to visit! he’s her favourite uncle for sure, you guys have trouble getting her out of his arms, she sticks to him… sticks to him like honey <3

୨୧ everytime lewis is abroad for a race, he goes into the city to buy her a new plushie!

♡ it became a ritual between them super early in winnie’s life, he felt horrible for having to leave her for races so he’d bring back a plushie that made him think of her to make up for it and she’d have a piece of him at home whenever he left again

୨୧ her room is absolutely full to the brim with plushies now… she has shelves lining her walls to showcase them! there are at least ten winnie the pooh plushies

♡ when she’s old enough to come abroad to races with him, you do take her! the plushie collecting doesn’t stop there though, he just takes her with him to the stores to pick her own plushie!

୨୧ her absolute favourite places to go are countries with big beaches

♡ she’s a major beach baby! when you took her to a beach for the first time, she was super freaked out by how the sand felt and lewis thought it was adorable… holding her hands and standing her on the warm sand while you cheered her on and recorded from the side

୨୧ but when she got over how different the sand felt and sat down on a towel, she couldn’t stop picking up sand in her tiny chubby hands and watching it fall through the cracks of her fingers

♡ she thinks roscoe on the beach is just the funniest thing ever too, constantly giggling while he attempts to dig a whole in the sand, her happiness only adding to yours and lewis’

୨୧ whenever she brings him little seashells she’s collected, he keeps them! usually he’ll get them made into super nice necklaces or bracelets or just collect a big handful of them and you guys will make it into a cute little art piece to put on the wall <3

♡ he kind of keeps ANYTHING she gives him…

୨୧ if his winnie gave it to him, there’s no way he’s putting it in the bin! piece of string? thank you honey! rock from the driveway? how thoughtful!

♡ all of the random things he’s collected over her toddler years are stored in a big jar that sits on his desk

୨୧ because of how much winnie loves the beach, you and lewis made the decision to move into a house in a beach town!

♡ with the beach basically being in your backyard, you can never get winnie off the beach now… same goes for lewis

୨୧ you’ll walk out of the back door and spot them sitting on a towel together

♡ usually making a sand castle or lewis covering her lower body in sand, moulding it to make her look like a mermaid and taking pictures <3 lewis usually spots you and calls you over

୨୧ christmas time is extremely special to you and lewis since you found out about your little winnie’s existence near christmas and he found out on christmas day!

♡ so you guys go all out for her first christmas! he gets the biggest, most beautiful tree and you decide to make it winnie themed! the ornaments consisting of custom made porcelain winnie the pooh characters and tiny photo frames showcasing pictures from all different times in your relationship… roscoe lays sleeping on the couch in a little reindeer costume

୨୧ lewis holds her on his hip, leaning her up gently and letting her place almost all of them on whilst you take pictures before joining them

♡ when christmas day rolls around, you spend almost the whole day in your pyjamas, relaxing in front of the fireplace! only getting dressed when you go to visit lewis’ parents house for christmas dinner <3 winnie gets dressed up in the cutest little velvet red and black dress with bow in her hair, matching you, whilst lewis wears a sleek but comfy outfit going by the same colour scheme! safe to say his parents were big fans of winnie’s outfit, cooing at her the entire time you were there

୨୧ when the day rolls into night, you guys are home and winnie is put to bed, you and lewis stay on the couch for a bit… just cuddled up with roscoe by your feet, eventually you feel his eyes on you and ask him if he’s okay

“ am i okay? i’m amazing love… just can’t believe i’m here, with winnie and you… i love it, i love you and her so much, you know that? ” ( the soft kisses he placed on your lips after were so full of love, so full of admiration… he was just so content )

♡ you and lewis decided this was the best christmas you’d ever had, just barely beating last christmas because winnie is actually in your arms now

୨୧ lewis and winnie are ALWAYS making you breakfast in bed!

♡ well, lewis is always making you breakfast in bed… winnie is usually just sitting in her high chair at the breakfast counter, letting out high pitched giggles at the mere sight of roscoe trudging around below her feet, lewis leaning over and feeding her tiny pieces of fruit every couple of minutes

“ good strawberry, winnie? yeah? thank you honey, my little food critic ”

୨୧ lewis eventually gets a little tattoo of a honey pot on his upper chest, just above his heart… he says he wanted something that symbolised his love for his honey <3 something that would always make his honey close to his heart…

♡ and close to his heart she is…

lewishamilton and ynln: winnie’s first christmas, filled with nothing but love and presents for our honey 🍯 🎄 🎁

georgerussell ✔️: did she like my present?! i put a lot of thought into it

> lewishamilton ✔️: yeah, she loved it mate! thanks again, yn says thanks as well

> georgerussell ✔️: only the best for my niece 💪

lewynforever: oh my god… she’s getting so big already

> f1lover: right? i remember when they posted that they were expecting a baby 🥹

> lewynforever: time flies…

sebastianvettel ✔️: sending lots of love to you guys and your little honey bee! have a good christmas lewis and yn - sebastian ❤️

> ynln: thank you sebastian! sending many kisses from honey, merry christmas ❤️

#lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 headcanons #f1 smau #fluff headcanons #headcanons

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throneofsapphics · 3 months ago

Note

hello! can i get an iced hazelnut chai with whipped cream and cinnamon <3

absolutely you can!

summary: azriel, forced proximity with fluff, spice, and angst

warnings: not very descriptive but still smut, angst

coffee bar celebration

“I can't look at you,” he stood by the window, hands braced against the glass planes. “Every time I look at you, I think about doing something stupid.”

You weren't certain you wanted to know what stupid impulses he was having.

His shadows were nearly encasing the room, poking at all the barriers and wards placed to keep the two of you in.

“We could just make a plan to kill our High Lord,” you said the title with a hint of mocking disdain, enough he would know it was a joke. Azriel never took threats against his friends lives lightly.

His chest shook, but not a sound escaped him.

Your mouth tightened into a thin line. In the past, he'd always let his laughter loose around you. Always. Fists clenched at your side, a shadow swirled around one and you released them.

One hand still placed firmly on the glass, Azriel pivoted just enough for his face to become clear. Beautiful, raw, and threatening to drag you under.

Insisting you could stay friends was bullshit, this would never work. You tried to reach out to Rhys and tell him that, but the normal channel he kept open between the two of you was airtight.

This time, you turned around, facing the mirror.

Eyes tired, bags underneath, hair disheveled, face wan. You looked a mess.

“Every time I look at you,” you tore your gaze, still in the mirror, away from your own reflection to find Azriel watching, his reflection wavering slightly. He cleared his throat. “Every time I look at you, I don't know if I want to go drown myself in liquor or kiss you until you can't remember your own name.”

Goosebumps trickled down your spine, one after another like a haunting melody playing its tunes on your body.

“There's plenty I'd like to forget right now,” you swallowed, pulse jumping in your throat.

“Oh?” You spun around, ready to curse him to an eternity, but Azriel was in front of you, so close that if you arched your back your breasts would brush against his chest. “What, exactly would you like to forget?”

“You,” you spit the word with as much venom as you could manage, and he laughed.

Planting both palms on his chest, you shoved. He didn't move. Unsurprisingly.

“You're an asshole,” you hissed.

“And you wouldn't have it any other way,” mirth danced in his eyes, pressure built in your chest, ready to explode.

Before you could say another word, he leaned in and kissed you. His lips were soft, gentle, and you found yourself falling into familiar patterns, into that dance of decades you'd done for far too long, before logic overrode the other parts of you thinking too much.

You gripped his chin, shoving his head to the side, away from you, and stepped backwards. Your back hit the dresser.

Perhaps for the first time, you saw the shadowsinger shocked. You'd never rejected a single advance from him before. Good. Maybe he should get used to rejection.

But … your soul was clawing and scraping in your chest, begging to be reunited with the one it thought completed it. It was wrong.

“You don't get to kiss me to keep me quiet,” you seethed.

“That's not what I meant to do,” his voice was dry, perhaps a tad bored, but you saw the plea in his eyes. The truth.

Crossing the two steps between you, you gripped the front of his leathers.

“Promise?” You didn't know what you were asking him to promise.

“Always,” he answered, not missing a beat.

This time when you walked him back, Azriel moved easily. When you undid the laces on his leathers and rode him, he thrust his hips up into you. When your eyes met, he held the contact, gripping you chin so you would too. When he flipped you on your back and pushed your legs up to your chest, he moaned loud enough Rhys's wards couldn't possibly keep the sound out.

When you'd driven each other to completion, your head resting on Azriel's chest, his arms wrapped tight around you, you thought perhaps you were always destined to burn hot and fast, but maybe there's a chance this could work.

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #acotar imagine #acotar drabble #irene's coffee bar

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mehiwilldoitlater · 5 months ago

Note

Now hear me out,what if. What if we did get Sent back to our world. But. Our monke was sent with us. Pretty please 👉👈🥺 We gotta fuel the shenanigans of things somehow. I wanna see him get whiplash from both technology and culture shock. We've been nice to our boi for a good while,it's time to bully him finally.

When you both wake up in the middle of the city, with people standing, asking if there was a con around or something, you know that you both are in something big.

You needed to find a good hiding place, but you knew what was happening: you and the Destined One were now in your own world.

The buzzling city, the cars, the technology—everything made his poor brain scrumble. You cane from this?! This chaos?!

The smell for him is difficult to handle, the absence of trees, and the strange behavior of the people...

///

"This is...your home?"

"Yup."

Hiding in a tree, the two of you admired the small portion of the city that the park hallowed you to observe. While you remembered what it feels like to breathe the same air where you were born, Yuán Fèn couldn't take his eyes off the palace in the distance.

"Are those... pagodas?"

"Oh no, those are skycrapers. People live and work there."

"Oh..."

Everything was out standing. And the mortal did it without the help of gods or others! They did it themselves! He gasped again, his tail swaving excited.

"We should go now! ...Maybe you can finally meet my family!"

///

That's your plan...until you find out what's really happened to you.

You were wondering if the car that had crashed into you was some sort of allucination or something like that, but when you reached your home, you could feel all the pain that you hadn't felt the day of the accident.

When you knocked at your door, you guessed that your mother could feel dizzy. After your disappearance of months, what you didn't expect was her tò Just faint on your porch, right in front of you and Yuán Fèn. You both were able to bring her into her room, and after that, you started to notice a pattern that scared you.

While Yuán Fèn tried to make her come back from the world of the living, you noticed the door of your room locked; many of your photos were missing from the usual spot. And there, in the living room, a photo of you at your prom, in an intricate frame. Written in silver ink, the lines "in loving memory.".

You really wanted to faint at that moment.

///

It feels so strange looking at your own grave. You guessed that they would you in this one particular spot. It was a family place there.

"I told them that I wanted to be cremated."

Yuán Fèn was more interested in trying to decipher your mental state. You were just there, watching at your own photo. He felt so strange... so that was what Mitraya meant when he said you were rebuking everything in your real world by choosing him. He looked again at that stone block, your name carved in there... then moved away.

"Okay, I think I'm in need of... What are you doing?!"

You spotted him taking a few flowers from one spot to another.

"Playing respect!"

"To Who?!"

Then, with the small bouquet in his hand, he put the flowers in the small pot near your photo.

"..oh ..." That was the only word that you said after that.

///

Three things were clear to you:

1) Going back to Mount Huaguo was the priority;

2) You needed to find some money since you were basically broke;

3) Need to keep the monkey away from every electrical device.

The first one was based more on a sense of morality. After all, you made a choice, and that was the choice to stay in that world full of magic because you fell in love with the destined one and a simple cane back home wasn't enough to move you.

Not to mention that you have nothing that came back anymore, so...

The second, hard but not that much. You have nowhere to go, so you were forced to stay in a cheap and very not so sanitary motel that you both found.

Luck were your side because that place needed someone that could clean or fix staff and you two? We're the masters at fixing staff...sorta.

But the third one...oooh boy...

///

You were drinking coffee, how much did you miss it, trying to schedule the next day of work for you and Yuán Fèn. You could clearly hear him doing something in the small kitchenette, moving staff, putting them somewhere, opening things, cutting them...

Then you heard the roar of that old blender that you both found around.

" DARLING?" You used your very sweet tone, a sign that you were expecting the worst for him. "What are you doing?!"

"Nothing."

"That doesn't sound like a -"

And there, in front of you, he putted a very strangely colored liquid, viscous, and with some strange objects floating here and there.

"What Is It?"

"A bunch of staff!"

"I know that; it's clearly a bunch of different staff."

"You should try it, then talk!"

"I genuinely want it five meters away from me."

"Suit yourself!" And then, in your horror, he proceeded to drink the staff.

///

After days of adjusting and trying to get used back to the modern world, when you both got inside your shared room and found no one but Maitreya himself, you both got a huge shock. You don't know what was the most unrecognizable scene—the actual boy in the room or the fact that he was reading a comic book that talked about the Monkey King or the Yankees cap in his head.

And he just waved! Like nothing!

He decided to give some explanation, but the most important was why you were sent there and how to. come back.

The first was more for the two of you. After your decision, you decided to leave your world behind, but you did know what that really meant? He wanted to know that and gave you a free way out, a small taste of your original world, and the thought that even this could sway you away from the destined one, and he received a slap on his head by you, and he admitted he deserved it. Another test of loyalty? They really believed you were so easy?!

Well, many were before you...

As for coming back, it was easy, of course! Did he not do it himself right now?

When you and Yuán Fèn looked at each other, Happy Tò was able to finally come back to Mount Huaguo, but you were stopped by the kid.

"You have to finish your schedule this week! And, oh, won't it be better if you gave a notice?"

How the heck did he know these things?!

"Aaand," he continued, holding an old toaster, "explain to me this little miracle."

@sun-jglim @crimsonflameproxy

@everlastingmoonlightsworld @biankanoir

@miraclecherryblossomsblog @sleepingdramaqueen

@certifiedsimpinggalore @cromboloni

@masksandfeathers @cinnamonroll-anon

@justrandomlypassing @cute-angi

@luckyangelballoon @dressycobra7

@naarra @virtualexpertanchor

@phoenixeclipse-lmkau @szynkaaa

@kirax-the-lazy-girl. @sleepydang

@weaverworks @kishimiest

@marcu-bug @thepoweroffiction

@riolu4 @angryvampire

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ollieolliewrld · 1 year ago

Text

DMC Men on Valentine's Day (SFW/NSFW)

Gender-neutral reader! NSFW is marked before it begins for each <3

1.8k words

Dante

☆Dante had never taken Valentine's Day seriously

☆Before he met you there was no real love in his life so the day meant nothing to him

☆With you in his life though, he is determined to make Valentine’s Day the best day of the year

☆Very stereotypical setup, he got the flowers, the candy, the floor covered in flower petals, and your shared apartment is fully lit up by candles

☆He is pulling out all of the stops by making you your favorite dinner and treating you to a romantic bubble bath

☆He has never done romantic stuff before and he’s actually really into it

☆Dante finds decorating and setting everything up to be very fun and keeps imagining your reaction when you arrive home and see everything

☆When you do arrive home your reaction is better than he imagined as you wrap your arms around him tightly planting kisses on his lips, nose, and cheeks

☆You were not expecting this and are so grateful for the effort he put in

☆First, he helps you take off your coat, takes your bags from you, and then leads you to the dining table where the food is set up

☆The meal is delicious and you can taste the love he put into it, he tells you how he had a small mishap while cooking and you both laugh and talk for hours

* NSFW FROM HERE IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 LOOK AWAY *

☆After dessert, Dante leads you into the bathroom where he has a bath ready for the two of you

☆He stands behind you planting kisses on your neck and down your shoulders slowly taking off your clothes

☆Once you are down to just your underwear you start to undress him starting by taking off his shirt, kissing all over his chest, and running your hands over his abs

☆You drop to your knees as he reaches down to undo his belt, eagerly you pull down his jeans and boxers and are met with his semi-hard length

☆Taking your hand around it you spit onto his tip and spread it over the head of his cock beginning to stroke him

☆“God, I love the way you do that, Baby” Dante groans as he looks down to meet your eyes

☆You lock eyes with him as you take him into your mouth swirling your tongue his tip still using your hand to stroke him

☆Taking his cock further into your mouth prompts Dante to place his hand on the back of your head gently pushing you to take him deeper down your throat, “Just like that, you’re doing so well for me”

☆You bob your head using your free hand to brace yourself until he stops you brings you up to standing and pulls you into a kiss

☆“You are so good to me, but today is about you,” he says as he takes your hand to lead you into the tub

☆Dante spends the night exploring your body and making sure you are satisfied before finally lying down in your shared bedroom where he has put several dozens of flower bouquets around

☆He holds you against his chest drawing patterns on your back as he whispers about his love for you until you fall asleep

Vergil

☆This man loves you more than you will ever know

☆However, he is clueless when it comes to things like Valentine’s Day

☆This doesn't mean he isn't going to try as he does want to spend this day with you and show you how much you mean to him

☆Valentine’s with Vergil is simple and meaningful

☆He plans to make dinner with you playing music while you two work together to prepare the meal

☆A song will come on that Vergil specifically made sure was on the playlist

☆When the first note plays he stops what he’s doing to take your hand and pull you to his chest

☆One hand goes to your waist and the other takes your hand in his as he leads you in a slow dance

☆Having you close to him allows him to shower you with compliments and tell you just how much you mean to him

☆He ends the dance with a kiss on your cheek and you two go back to work

☆You work seamlessly together to set the table and plate the food

☆The meal is beautiful and the conversation you share is deep and full of love

☆After you are done eating you go to begin cleaning but Vergil stops you and hands you an envelope telling you he wants you to read it while he takes care of the dishes

☆Puzzled you nod and go to the couch to open the letter

☆Inside is a beautifully written note recounting your relationship from the day he met you until now saying how grateful he is to have you in his life

☆You begin to cry before you can get to the end and by this time he has come to sit beside you wiping away your tears

☆“You are the world to me, the end to my suffering,” he says as he places a kiss on your lips

* NSFW FROM HERE IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 LOOK AWAY *

☆You deepen the kiss running your hand through his hair and gently tugging at his white locks

☆Vergil groans into your mouth pulling you onto his lap not once taking his lips off of yours

☆He places his hands on your ass gently squeezing as he pulls you into him

☆You begin to roll your hips into his starting to feel him harden underneath you

☆Breaking the kiss he leans his head to look at you fully

☆“Be good for me and get on your hands and knees” he asks guiding you with his hands

☆You happily oblige feeling him take off your pants from behind you

☆Making quick work of your shirt you turn to see Vergil now undressed behind you slowly stroking his cock

☆He pulls out a bottle of your favorite lube and applies a generous amount to his now swollen member

☆Placing a hand on your hip he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance

☆“Take it all for me, Baby,” as he slowly slides into you

☆His thrusts are deep starting slowly

☆He wants you to feel him fully each time he enters you

☆Grabbing your hips with both hands he guides you back to fuck yourself on his cock

☆Your moans fuel him as he changes the pace to a faster one

☆When he’s about to cum he grabs your hair to pull your back against his chest

☆As he finishes he whispers in your ear, “You are mine and I will never let you go”

Nero

☆This man has all of the right intentions but cannot plan to save his life

☆He had so many ideas of what to do with you on Valentine’s Day, so excited to show you how much he loves and cares for you

☆But he did not check his calendar and now here the two of you are on Valentine’s Day driving to kick some demon ass

☆He thought it was weird that Nico wasnt here to drive but he forgot about it as he was too focused on designing a bouquet of flowers for you in his head

☆Nero starts up a conversation as he usually does, you seem off but once again he is so preoccupied with what restaurant to make reservations at he figures that he’ll ask you about it later

☆It was a small job only taking the two of you about an hour and something falls out of your bag as you were packing things up

☆Nero picks it up thinking that he’s helping you but he notices that it’s a cutely wrapped box with his name on it

☆You see what’s in his hand and lock eyes with him unsure of what to say next

☆This is when it clicks, today is Valentine’s Day

☆Immediately he begins to apologize attempting to explain what happened and how he lost track of time and promising to make it up to you

☆You stop him and tell him that you aren’t angry and tell him to open the box

☆He opens it to find a note stating that you were sorry for forgetting what today was

☆You tell him that you also had plans for today but did not look at the calendar until today, only having time for what is currently in his hands

☆He starts laughing and pulls you into a bear hug, you two hold each other as you laugh over what happened realizing that a day didn't matter, the bond you had was unbreakable and the love you share is stronger than anything life throws at you

* NSFW FROM HERE IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 LOOK AWAY *

☆Getting back into the van all of the awkward air is gone and you can now just enjoy each other's company

☆You look over at him from the passenger seat and start noticing how good Nero looks today

☆While he rambles on about what take-out food to get for tonight you begin to run your hand over his thigh

☆It takes a minute for him to pick up on what you’re up to but once you begin stroking his cock through his pants he shuts up

☆His grip on the wheel tightens trying to keep focus on the road

☆“You keep this up and we might crash, Sweetheart,” He says aware of how hard he is now

☆Taking this as a challenge more than a warning you undo his belt and he lefts his hips to pull his pants down freeing his cock already dripping with precum

☆You undo your seatbelt hoping to take him into your mouth but your plans come to a halt as you feel him abruptly pull over

☆“Get in the back now,” Nero says as he puts the van in park and takes the keys out of the ignition

☆Quickly you get to the back and undress watching as he does the same

☆Nero lays you on your back taking one of your legs in his hand and bringing it up to his shoulder

☆He spits into his hand and spreads it over his cock before he lines up with your entrance

☆Locking eyes with you he says, “I love you and I never want you to forget that,” as he pushes into you fully

☆The gasp that leaves your lips tells him everything he needs to know

☆Fucking you in the back of a car was not what either of you planned on for Valentine’s Day but you know he will more than makeup for it when you get home

Author's note: This is my first NSFW post! I have more detailed posts that I am working on and will be writing longer and more detailed stories both SFW and NSFW for individual characters soon <3<3

#dante x reader #dante #dante sparda #dmc dante #vergil x reader #dmc vergil #vergil sparda #dmc nero #nero #nero x reader #dante devil may cry #dante smut #vergil devil may cry #vergil smut #nero dmc #nero sparda #nero smut #dmc x reader #reqs open

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sagesolsticewrites · 1 year ago

Text

religion's in your lips, the altar is my hips

in which Steve takes care of you after a bad day

- including but not limited to: praise kink, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), Steve lowkey being a service dom 👀

(this is. very self-indulgent. very veryyyyyy self-indulgent. you have been warned <3)

a/n: huuuge shoutout to @upsidedownwithsteve's (aka Emmy, Queen of Smutty Sunday <3) most recent smutty Sunday event for giving me inspiration to write my very first smutty fic! Obligatory disclaimer that yes, this is my very first smut fic ever, I am an ✨asexual virgin✨ please manage expectations accordingly, yada yada yada. Also so many hugs to my bestie Kenz @fangirl-imagines for looking this over before I posted it ☺️ Kenzie has some incredible fics, go support her y'all!

Word count: 2870

Warnings: THIS IS SMUT. MINORS BEGONE. 🔞

Please like/rb if you enjoyed! 🤍

You let yourself into your apartment with a sigh, shoulders relaxing the tiniest bit as you step over the threshold into your home and finally toe off your heels.

Bypassing the darkened kitchen and empty living room, you open the door to your bedroom, where you knew you’d find a shirtless Steve in the middle of his post-work ritual of playing some game on his computer.

He looks up as you enter, face brightening with a smile as he greets you.

“Hey baby, how was—”

In lieu of an answer, you flop face first onto the bed with a groan.

You can hear the smile fade from his voice as he hisses sympathetically, “That bad, huh?”

You lift your chin so it’s propped up on the pillow as you explain your terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.

“You know that project that Marie was working on? She asked me for help on it, and I gave her some pointers, but she said she still wasn’t really understanding it so I ended up having to do all of it for her. And she’ll probably take all the credit for it, too.” You grumble, rolling your eyes, “And we had that meeting with our new clients, and my boss basically volun-told me to take notes for it, even though that’s really the liason’s job, and then she criticized me for not taking as detailed notes as Lauren even though that’s literally Lauren’s job! And she was there, she could’ve taken the notes, I don’t even—”

You shake your head in exasperation, shifting topics, “And then I didn’t even have time for lunch because Sara wanted me to help train the interns, and…” You end your rant with a groan, letting your face drop back into the pillow. “‘M just. So tired.”

“Sweetheart…” Steve’s voice turns soft as the pillow underneath your head, and he gets up from his spot at the desk to climb onto the bed, pulling you into his arms.

You curl into him instinctively, your head finding that space in the crook of his neck that feels like it was made for you personally, one hand coming up to toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, tracing patterns along the freckles and moles dotted along his skin.

“What can I do to help, honey?” Your boyfriend asks, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Jus’ wanna… I dunno, just. Stop.” You mumble against his shoulder, shrugging and curling further into him.

He hums in understanding, grabbing the hand that’s currently drawing invisible hearts around the moles near his collarbone and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“You’ve been doing so much for everyone today,” he murmurs, voice layered with understanding and adoration as he leans in and peppers tiny kisses over your forehead, your nose, your eyelids, and you relax even more as his voice washes over you, “Worked so hard.”

He pulls you closer, scattering kisses all over as you finally release all the tension you’ve been holding, letting out a sigh and shifting in his arms to face him. You don’t realize you’re straddling him until you’re pressed nearly flush against him, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

His lips brush over every part of your face, down to your neck and then back up as you become putty in his hands, murmuring soft words of praise to you the whole time.

“You just need to stop working now, huh? Need to stop thinking,” His lips draw a path to your ear, where he whispers, “need to let someone else do all the work, huh, baby?”

A shiver runs down your spine, constantly in awe of the power just his voice has over you. His hand settles on your hip, a comforting, grounding weight while his other hand brushes a strand of hair back from your forehead. His lips work their way back down over your cheek, stopping to hover just over yours, mouths brushing together as he murmurs in a voice like silk, “Is that what you want, honey? Want me to take care of you?”

Warm chocolate eyes meet yours, soft, caring, always ensuring he has your consent before he does anything.

At your near-imperceptible nod, he drags his hand up to cup your chin, thumb dragging along your bottom lip.

“Need your words, pretty girl.”

“Yes,” you breathe, and that’s all the confirmation he needs to surge up and capture your lips with his.

As you brace yourself on his shoulders, his hands move to the thin strip of exposed skin where your shirt has ridden up. Your kisses become hungrier, ignoring your need for oxygen in favor of Steve’s plush, kiss-swollen lips, and he slowly drags up the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss briefly to get your permission.

At your eager nod, your shirt is off and tossed to some corner of the room, his mouth eagerly on yours once more.

You can feel exactly how much he’s enjoying this through his sweats, and you instinctively begin to rock in his lap, dragging your increasingly damp core over his.

His hands grip your hips, the familiar feeling sending a thrill through you… but rather than guiding your movements like he normally would, he holds them still.

You pull away, brow furrowed, but before you can voice your confusion, he flips you onto your back, moving to hover over you in one smooth movement.

“I told you,” he murmurs against your lips in a tone that sends a pulse of scorching heat to your core, “I’m doing all the work, sweetheart.”

The whimper you let out is muffled by his lips on yours once more, his wandering hands and hungry kisses making short work of turning you into a moaning, gasping mess.

“Steve,” you whine out his name as his lips travel down to your neck, and you can feel his smile against the hollow of your throat before he returns to licking and sucking dark patches into your skin, the occasional use of his teeth making delicious shivers shoot up your spine.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He mumbles against your skin, trailing his lips along your collarbone. His eyes meet yours, a mischievous twinkle mixed with the searing heat in them turning you molten as he asks, “What do you need?”

Unable to find the words, your hand finds his hair instead — God, that hair — and begins pushing him down towards where you really want him.

“‘M gettin’ there, honey, I promise,” he grins, pausing your efforts to press a kiss to the valley between your breasts, “Lemme take my time and I promise it’ll be worth it, ok?”

He reaches up to toy with the strap of your bra— a simple nude thing you could get away with wearing under a white shirt at work— a questioning look in his eyes answered by a furious nod from you.

He makes short work of the clasp, and that really should not be as hot as it is, but— oh who are you kidding, even his breathing is insanely hot right now.

You throw your head back as he presses kisses all over your chest, mumbling against your skin the whole time about how pretty you are, just gorgeous sweetheart, God, I can’t believe I get to do this for you…

Your head goes deliciously fuzzy with the praise, and you can’t quite form words so all you can do when he takes your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it for good measure, is let out a keening “Ohhh” and instinctively tighten your grip on his hair.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Steve groans, the noise sending heat racing through your body, and you grin knowing you were the one to elicit it, “You sound fucking incredible.” He murmurs more praise as he turns his attention to your other nipple, giving it just as much attention and eliciting more gasps and moans and whines from you before he continues his journey south.

You lift your head and watch as Steve Harrington fucking beams when he reaches your stomach, your pouch poking out slightly more than you’d like over the waistband of your jeans.

He meets your eyes, his own swimming with sincerity as he begins to scatter kisses over your midsection.

“You”

Kiss

“Are”

Kiss

“Fucking”

Kiss

“Stunning”

Kiss

When it seems like he’s covered every single inch of your exposed skin in kisses, remaining stubbornly focused on your torso when what you really want is for him to be significantly lower, he meets your eyes as he plays with the waistband of your jeans, once again wordlessly asking your permission.

And once again, your furious nodding is all the consent he needs to peel your jeans off and toss them away.

“Sweetheart.” He breathes, wide eyes on where your jeans once were, “Honey. Baby. Are you trying to kill me?” He says in a strangled voice at the sight of your simple lacy panties in a deep, wine-purple color— a color Steve once drunkenly confessed was his favorite, though he told anyone who asked he preferred red.

You bite your lip in an attempt to contain your grin, “I thought you might like those.”

“Like them?” He murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your inner thigh, looking up through lidded eyes to meet your gaze as his own darkens, “I never wanna see you in anything else again.”

Your toes curl, and your breaths become shallow in anticipation as he scatters slow kisses all along your inner thighs, carefully spreading them apart, stopping when he gets to the edge of the purple lace.

He holds your gaze, gauging your reaction as instead of pulling them down over your hips to toss to yet another corner of the room, he simply…

Pulls.

The lace.

To the side.

You barely have time to let out a quiet, shaky, “Oh my God,” at the ravenous look on Steve’s face before his mouth is on you and you forget how to think, you forget how to breathe, you forget everything except Steve.

Let it be known: Steve Harrington knew how to eat a girl out.

He licks a thick, fat stripe up your center, gathering the moisture collected there before darting up to flick at your clit, an action that has you gripping the sheets like a lifeline, a stuttering moan that sounds vaguely like your boyfriend’s name escaping from your lips. His arms hook around your thighs, pulling you close in an attempt to keep your hips grounded, and he continues a few more passes of the same lick, flick pattern until you’re a writhing mess underneath him, his current strategy both too much and not enough.

He pauses just long enough to meet your eyes, pressing a single kiss to your clit that sends a jolt of pleasure up your spine, before diving in.

His tongue finds your entrance with ease, the way his nose pushes through the thatch of wiry hair to nudge at your clit providing extra stimulation as he makes short work of making you fall apart. His tongue swirls through your folds as he lets out a languid moan at your taste.

“So fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart.” He mumbles against your core, “So perfect, lettin’ me take care of you. This is all you needed, huh?” His eyes flick up to meet yours as you shudder and moan underneath him, struggling to keep your eyes on him.

He licks another languid path through your folds, savoring your taste, before continuing, his voice muffled as he licks and sucks at your entrance “Jus’ needed me to give you a break, needed me to tell you it’s okay to turn off your brain and jus’—” Steve punctuates his last words by wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking gently “—be a good girl for me.”

The combination of stimulation to your clit and Steve’s words has your hips arching off the bed, despite your boyfriend’s best efforts to keep you still. You can feel him grin against you and let out a dark chuckle at the moan you let out at his last words in particular, the way your hand tightens and pulls at his hair all the evidence he needs.

Still, he asks you, though he doesn’t quite expect a coherent response.

“Aw, sweetheart. You like it when I call you a good girl? You like bein’ a good girl for me?” He purrs in a voice like syrup, lips still brushing your folds.

“Fuck, I— yes, Stevie,” you whine brokenly, gently gripping his hair in an attempt to bring him closer to where you want him, whimpering softly, “Stevie please.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmurs, scattering kisses frustratingly just outside your core, “Jus’ trust me, I gotcha.”

You resist the urge to move, to just grab him and put him where you want him, even as you let out a frustrated whine.

Just as your patience is about to run out, you feel him smirk against you before diving back in, holding your legs apart as he sloppily licks and sucks at your entrance, his tongue diving deep inside you.

You let out a gasping moan as he attacks your core, practically clawing at his hair in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer, your brain going fuzzy and then melting entirely when you hear the endless praise falling from his lips as he eats you out.

“So good for me sweetheart, just perfect— shit, do you have any idea how good you taste?” He groans against you, his thumb coming up to gently circle your clit as his other hand moves to splay flat over your hips, holding you as still as he can, “Could do this all fuckin’ day, god you’re amazing sweetheart—”

Then he clamps his lips around your clit and moans, and you’re fairly certain you’re going to die of pleasure, both your hands flying to grip his hair and yank as your back arches off the bed, your head falling back against the pillows, mouth open to let out a high, keening moan.

When you come back to your body, Steve is back to gently licking through your folds, and your hands claw at him, needing him to be closer.

“Steve,” you whine, “Stevie please, ‘m so close, I jus’— I need— please, baby.”

As your words turn into incoherent moans and pleas, Steve is quick to assure you, thumb returning to playing with your clit as he mumbles against you, “I know, honey, I know what you need and ‘m gonna give it to you, I promise. Been so good for me today, taken such good care of everyone, now it’s your turn, ‘m gonna make you feel so, so fuckin’ good, baby—”

He dives into you once more, thumb rhythmically circling your clit as his tongue hits every spot inside you in a pattern that has you turning to liquid underneath him, your legs hooking together behind his back to keep him right there, and your vision goes white as Steve brings you towards your release.

You let out a cry as you hit your climax, and Steve dutifully guides you through your orgasm, murmuring soft praises the whole time.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs as he pulls away, mouth glistening and pupils dilated wide. Your hand cards through his soft brown waves, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Steve brushes gentle kisses to your inner thigh, your hipbone, your stomach, following a path up to capture your lips with his own, swallowing the contented sigh you let out.

He pulls away, meeting your gaze with a smile as he pecks your nose.

“Feelin’ better?”

You hum contentedly, “Much.” Your thumb comes up to stroke his cheek as you pointedly glance down, “What about you?”

Steve lets out a mock-annoyed groan, forehead coming down to rest on your shoulder.

“Baby, we just went over the whole thing about you not needing to take care of everyone.”

He lifts his head, meeting your gaze, “Seriously, though,” he presses a kiss to your cheek, rolling to lay next to you and pulling you into his chest, “I’m fine. This was about you, and I’m so glad I could help take care of you for once.”

You cup his cheek, turning his face to yours. You hope he can see every sincere, tender thought in your expression as you simply say, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart. You know that.” He murmurs in response, lips quirking up into a small smile as he turns to press a quick kiss to your palm.

“So,” he says, fingers stroking through your hair, nudging your eyes closed, “nap time and then appetizer dinner? We’ve got mozzarella sticks and some chicken tenders I can throw in the oven.”

You grin, despite already being half-asleep, “That sounds perfect.”

You can feel his smile as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

“I love you infinity.”

“I love you infinity plus one”

“I love you—”

“Alright, let’s call it a tie, babe.”

Tagging a couple friends! Hi besties @austin-butlers-gf @sassy-ahsoka-tano @dontbesussis

#steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #my writing #sage writes

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iliketangerines · 8 months ago

Note

I absolutely adore your writing omg its so good. you make me want to write more fics even tho ive only posted 1 (womp womp).

If I can make a request, we need more primal play Tomas plEASEEE!

Hunter/Prey dynamics w that man got me running laps around my room and quite possibly have me feral!!!!

(I dont need therapy, I just need to be pinned down by his big strong arms.)

Please and Thank You. Youre the best ever <3

helpless prey

a/n: tomas....mmm...so tasty

pairing: tomas vrbada x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI) primal prey, cnc, public sex (you're in the woods)

Tomas comes out of the woods after checking the safety of the surroundings about a third time, and you pat his shoulder and tell him it’ll be okay and that you can defend yourself

he just sighs and says he was just making sure one more time, and you just fix the little bunny ear hairband on your head and show the thigh strap holding your knife

you reassure him one more time and say you know how to defend yourself, and he presses his forehead to yours and murmurs that he knows, his hands coming up to grip onto your arms and squeeze it gently

finally, he pulls away, and you shake yourself loose as you face the dark woods, pursing your lips at the feeling of the bunny tail plug sitting snug in your ass

it would definitely hinder your ability to think properly, but you push the thought out of your mind and give another glance to Tomas standing behind you

he taps his fingers against his thigh and says he’ll give you five minutes to hide before he comes to hunt you down, and you nod

sprinting off into the woods, the ears bob on your head and your tail presses against you and make your legs slightly wobble as you run through the forest

the trees tower over you, and your heart beats fast in your chest as you criss cross your own path, leaving the footprints in a confusing pattern on the dirt

you know the five minutes have finally passed, and he’s coming to get you, tracking your footprints in the loose first

only a minute remains, maybe less for you to actually hide, and you look at the trees and find one with a hole in the trunk, bushes covering the base

you mess your footprints, tracing old ones before diving into the bushes and making sure you were as low to the trunk floor as possible

the woods are silent, save for the sound of night animals prowling around in the night, and you try to keep your breaths shallow and your body still as you strain your ears

nothing happens for a few minutes, but you would be a fool to think that you’re safe as you keep your eyes focused through the leaves of the bush to listen for Tomas

it’s silent, quiet, and then you hear it, subtle and barely there, but the light footsteps of an assassin are in the air

he comes out from behind a bush, eyes scanning the area, and you go still, barely even trembling as he searches the area

your footprints are still on the ground, and he looks at them carefully before looking through the area again

you watch with wide eyes as he walks and walks around, looking up the trees and near the bushes, and he’s getting closer, only about a foot away from you

your breathing stops, and you hope he doesn’t look down into the bushes

his footsteps stand right outside you, and you wait and wait until he lets out a barely audible breath and starts walking in the other direction

and then you hear him stop and turn around, and his eyes meet yours through the leaves

your feet scramble for balance as he pounces toward you, and you sprint out of the tree trunk as he jumps into the bushes

running through the woods, you pant hard, heart beating wildly, and his footsteps aren’t far behind yours as you run

he’s fast, faster than you’ve ever seen him run, and his fingers brush against your back as you make a turn around a tree

he’s too close to you, and you try to make unpredictable turns right and left

but it feels as though he’s leading you in a certain direction as you run, but you ignore the feeling in your stomach as you run and run

and then as he slams into a tree to the right of you, you sprint to the left and trip over something, tangling up your feet in something rough

tumbling onto the ground, you try to pull your knife out of your thigh strap, but Tomas easily knocks it aside as he pounces on top of you

he grabs onto your wrists and pin them to your sides, his thigh slotting between yours and rubbing against your clothed cunt

it makes you whimper, the adrenaline still running through you, and you try to find purchase with your legs to try and kick him off

the only thing it accomplishes it making his thigh dig further in your clit, and Tomas seems to know as he watches with a slight smirk at how you work yourself up

by the end of your struggle, lungs burning with exhaustion, Tomas just watches a smirk, hands gripping tight onto your wrists and finally asks if you’re done

you just part your lips and try to take in as much as you can, trying to ease the burn in your chest, and he laughs and grinds your clit into his thigh

it makes you whimper, and pleasure shoots through you as you try and move your hips away from him

he just smirks and moves his thigh with you and watches as you struggle to stifle your sounds and try not to give him the satisfaction

Tomas leans down to growl in your ear to give into him little bunny, and you turn your head to the side

he laughs and buries his nose in your neck, breathing in your scent before sucking and licking at the skin, teeth sinking into the flesh after a second

you whine at the feeling, legs twitching to squeeze his waist, and his smirk only grows as you struggle in his arms

he slots his other thigh next to his and spreads your legs with his, grinding his hips into yours and listening to your slight whimper

you’re only dressed in panties, and you can feel his hardening cock into your cunt, groaning into your ear and murmuring that he can’t wait to devour you

then he brings his free hand to your face, tilting your face towards him and pressing his lips to yours, and he pushes his tongue against the seal of your lips

you keep them shut, and he growls at the lack of submission

he humps his hip into yours roughly, causing your mouth to slip open, and Tomas shoves his tongue into your mouth, almost daring you to bite it with the smirk against yours

he hums into your mouth, savoring the taste of your lips, and his free hand goes to slip off his sash and pants, pulling his cock out of his underpants

he parts from your lips, grinning at your teary eyes, and says he would do more but he can’t wait, too helpless to his instincts to resist such a pretty piece of prey

you whimper and close your eyes, biting your lip and turning your head away, and Tomas just coos at your reaction, slipping your panties to the side

his fingers run through your folds, and he brings them up to his face and smiles at the sight of your want covering his fingers

he teases you, saying that maybe you are just a desperate little bunny, all for him, and he humps his cock against your pussy, listening to the slick sound of it

Tomas kisses you again, and he continues to ruts against you, wetting his cock against you and grunting into your mouth at your little whines

it’s all he does for a minute, and then finally he groans that he can’t wait anymore, lining himself up with you and slowly pushing in

you whine and kick your legs uselessly in the air, swollen tears falling down your face, and Tomas just kisses them away

his brows furrow, and he asks if you’re okay, genuinely, eyes wide with concern

you take a little breath and say that you’re fine, and just to give you a second

Tomas nods, releasing your wrists to bring both his hands to cup your face and wipe away your tears with gentle thumbs

you lean into his touch and take a second to adjust, just breathing in and out, and he waits for you patiently, staring with a concentrated face until you’re ready

a few minutes pass, and finally, you give him the go ahead and tell him he can continue

Tomas grabs onto your wrists again and give you a little nod, closing his eyes and letting out a quick puff of air

when he opens them again, they’re dangerous and glint with something sharp and angry as his hips start to snap against you

you whine and squirm, but it’s impossible to get out of his grip with how his weight presses down on you

the hand not holding your wrists goes down to rub against your clit, drawing a high keen out of you, and he just thrusts his hips in and out of you, grinning down at you

Tomas starts slow with his thrusts, listening to your whimpers and your whines as he starts to speed up, and then it’s the sound of his hips slapping against yours viciously

his thumb presses firm circles into your clit, and he leans down in close to hear your stifled moans and see how you try to keep yourself quiet

you bite your lip, turning your head to the side, but he just takes the opportunity to bite your neck again and suck a deep hickey into your skin

his hips never stop, pushing into you deeper and deeper, and he presses faster circles into your clit, groaning into your skin as he bites your skin

you whine as your pussy clenches down on him, and you cum on him hard

Tomas smiles as you cum on him, teasing you for cumming on a big bad wolf’s cock, he thought that you were scared of him and yet here you are trembling beneath him

you whine and whimper, finally releasing your lip from your teeth, and whines and whimpers spill from your lips as you sob and cry from the pleasure

his thumb presses insistently on your clit, prolonging your orgasm, and his hips only get faster, biting into your neck

he says he wants you to cum again, cum on his cock again, needs to hear your sweet little moans for him

he grips onto your wrists tighter, scooting up so that his thighs sit underneath your butt, and it changes the angle of his thrusts

it makes the tip of his cock hit against that sweet spot inside of you, and you let out choked moan a the feeling

he grins at your scrunched up face, how you cry tears from the pleasure, and his hips keep fucking into your desperately

the pace stumbles, and his own moans start to fall out of your mouth, groaning out your name and just looking at you with love-sick eyes

he can’t help but break the act as he leans down to kiss you, hands releasing your wrists to cup your face with one hand and rub your clit with the other

your hands go to scratch at his back, digging your blunt nails into the hard muscle, and he whines into your mouth, thrusting hard as his fingers press insistent circles into you

he cums into you, hips stuttering as he buries himself deep, and your pussy clenches down on him, milking him of every drop

he slightly whines at the feeling and stays inside of you for a while, just kissing you and moaning into your mouth

after a minute, he pulls out of you and asks if you can walk, and you stretch your legs, or at least attempt to before you groan and let them flop to the floor

he smiles and laughs at your attempt before moving, pulling his pants up, and he moves your panties back to normal and picks you up into his arms

you adjust the little bunny ears on your head and ask if you were convincing enough, and he laughs and says that you were, walking back to the compound while you’re in his arms

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