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thewintersoldierdisaster · 21 days

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a/n: anon(s)! baby fic is here!! apologies for the wait but it’s long and i hope it’s worth it ☺️ honestly this fic feels like total chaos but i kind of love the vibes. not too much to say other than this was fun to write and i think we’re done on svechnikov baby birth fics lol

word count: 6.4k

tw: mentions of labor, brief innuendo, post partum anxiety (not diagnosed in fic)

summary: it’s time for baby svechnikov number four to make their entrance into the world and of course it’s chaos in the best possible way

“Mama!” Alina shrieks for your attention and your heart skips a beat at her volume, mild fight or flight kicking in before you catch sight of her in the doorway and see that she’s fine.

“Christ,” you mutter to yourself, heartbeat returning to normal. The baby gives a violent kick to your kidney and you wince. “Sorry, bub,” you pat the side of your stomach, “that hit of adrenaline couldn’t have been fun.”

Alina shouts for you again and you level her with a stern look, “hey, what did Mama tell you about shouting like that?”

You’re too pregnant to be gentle parenting, but if you don’t remind Alina about her indoor voice, she’ll just run rampant over the next few months while you’re completely distracted with the new baby. She shuffles her feet and pulls at the little ruffles on the sides of her bathing suit.

“No shoutin’ unless someone’s bleeding or really, really sick,” she sighs and when you nod, she perks up with a toothy little grin. “But I had to shout ‘cause Papa says your frone is ready!”

“My frone?” You repeat, brows scrunched together in confusion. You repeat the word a few times under your breath until it clicks. “Oh! My throne?”

Alina nods and does a little wiggle, bouncing on her feet. “Come on, mama! We wanna show you!” She’s definitely still shouting, but your middle daughter has never understood the concept of an inside voice.

You smile at her and laugh, “okay, mama’s coming, Alya. Remember I’m very slow.” You brace one hand at your lower back, the other hand rubbing at the side of your distended belly. As scary as it is, you’re glad that you’re being induced tomorrow - your entire body is sore and your back and hips are killing you from carrying around this giant Svechnikov baby. Your actual due date isn’t for another week, but since baby’s measuring so big, your ob/gyn made the call for a scheduled induction.

“Mama’s like a tuuuurtle,” she grins slyly, skipping back to the yard and leaving you shaking your head.

As soon as you get to the back door, you can feel the mid-August Raleigh heat and humidity, sweat already prickling at your hairline and armpits. You frown, already uncomfortable and not really in the mood to go outside. Leaving the air conditioning is going to be miserable, but the girls were begging you to join them and Andrei outside, so how could you resist. You scrape your hair back into a knot on top of your head, trying to keep as much of it off your neck as possible. Little pieces fall out anyway and curl with the humidity.

You wedge your feet into the pair of Adidas slides at the back door and step carefully over the lip onto the back patio. The heat hits instantly and you frown, cranky. The baby jabs an elbow into your side and you wince - there’s absolutely no room left in your stomach and every time the baby moves, you’re painfully reminded of that. You hadn’t even realized your stomach could stretch this much, but baby number four is testing the limits.

“Maaaaamaaaaa!” Alina and Kira shriek for you in stereo and you wave from the door, reluctant to go outside into the heat.

“Mama’s coming,” you call back, bracing a hand under the curve of your belly and waddling farther out onto the patio. The air feels like soup and you have no idea how Andrei and the girls are so energetic. Before you can make it a handful of feet, Andrei’s at your side, kissing your temple and wrapping an arm around your waist. “Hi,” you murmur.

“Hi,” he smiles down at you, looking a little tired. His face is bright pink too, which you had warned him would happen. “Off to your throne, solnyshka.”

You let him guide you over the grass, avoiding the lawn toys and stray Barbie dolls that litter the ground. You’re perfectly capable of walking on your own, but it’s nice to lean your weight against Andrei’s side and have him help you. “Did you reapply sunscreen?” You ask, knowing the answer. Besides his face, his shoulders, chest, and arms are all tinged pink too.

He wrinkles his face at you. “I think once? I’m fine,” he shrugs and stops in front of your throne.

It’s one of your beach chairs settled in front of the girls’ old baby pool, an umbrella stuck in the grass behind the chair.

You grin at Andrei as the girls sprint up and dance around you.

“Do you love it, Mom?” Evie bounces excitedly on her toes. “That way you can watch us play!”

“I love it!” You cup Evie’s cheek in one hand, ruffling Alina’s hair with the other. “This is the best throne ever, you guys are making me feel so special.”

“Only the best for our koroleva,” Andrei winks at you, hoisting Kira up onto his hip when she starts tugging at the hem of his swim trunks. She grins her little toddler grin at you and then whispers in Andrei’s ear, a chubby little hand splayed on his cheek. He nods seriously and says, “yes, Mama will watch you go down the slide.”

You laugh and lower yourself into the chair, your lower back popping and protesting. A little groan slips past your lips and all four of your watchdogs whip their heads in your direction. The girls have wide eyed looks on their faces and you offer up a comforting smile, “sorry, girls. Mama’s okay, remember it’s hard for me to sit so low.”

A brief bout of Braxton Hicks two weeks earlier had taken you by surprise and your startled yelp and the way you had doubled over from the shock had scared the girls a little, so they’re insanely keyed into any weird noise you make lately.

“Why don’t you get Mama’s drink?” Andrei sets Kira back on her feet and nudges the three of them off with his hands. After they skip off, Andrei helps you swing your legs up and over so your feet kick in the cool water in the baby pool.

You sigh happily, dropping your head back, “oh god, that feels good. It’s hotter than Satan’s ass crack out here.”

The baby kicks, the outline of a little foot visible through the taut skin on your stomach, as if agreeing with you.

Andrei scratches at his jaw, rasping his fingers through a couple of days’ worth of stubble. “It’s not so bad, when you have the girls spraying you with the hose every two minutes,” he laughs a little, squatting down next to you and shaking his head so stray droplets of water fly off of his hair. Your face crinkles up and you swat at him, giggling. He taps at the side of your stomach, hand warm against your skin. “The little one is behaving?”

“In the loosest sense of the word,” you sigh, shifting in the chair, trying to get comfortable. “I’m kind of ready to get my lung capacity back.”

His hands stroke over the swell of your stomach, the baby’s arms and legs following Andrei’s touch. You pluck at the white linen fabric of your dress where it’s stuck to your skin with sweat, regretting the choice of clothing. “Tell me when you want to go inside,” Andrei says. “Girls will be fine if you’re not watching the water war.”

You hum, swishing your feet in the water. “A little vitamin D is probably good for me,” your smirk matches Andrei’s when the double entendre is out in the air. It’s been a minute since you had Andrei inside of you, too uncomfortable for the exertion, and you miss having him that way. The horny days of your second trimester are long in the rearview mirror.

Before he can say anything, the girls come running from the house, ice rattling around in the Stanley that Evie’s got clutched in her arms. You grin at the sight - your oldest leading the charge with her younger sisters following dutifully behind. Evie unceremoniously drops the cup on your lap with a chirpy, “here, Mama! Daddy even added lemon for you.”

“Oh, my favorite,” you reach out to tug on one of Evie’s braided pigtails and she beams at you before dancing away, Alina hot on her heels. Kira presses her little body up against your thigh and looks at you with puppy eyes. “What’s the matter, Kiry?”

“I have?” She asks, pointing at your Stanley.

You nod and hold the cup out for her, straw pointed in her direction. She plants her hands on the metal and chews a little on the straw while she sucks back more water than you expected. Andrei laughs a little when she gulps down the water, releasing the straw with a heavy sigh and then runs off, shrieking for her sisters.

“Adding another one to this chaos is going to be wild,” he comments, leaning back and splashing his hand in the pool water, hitting your shins with little droplets.

“Poor number four is either going to be the loudest to be heard or the quietest with three big sisters talking for them,” you giggle, tracing your fingers over the engraved 37 on the Stanley - the WAG Christmas gift that keeps on giving. You get a particularly painful kick to the ribs and wince, muttering, “maybe that first option.”

“Dadddeeeeeee!” A trio of shrieks echo across the yard, the girls calling for Andrei to rejoin them. He stands up and presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Duty calls,” he gives you a little salute and jogs off, leaving you to enjoy the way his ass fills out his bathing suit. It’s a view that never gets old, but even better is watching Andrei chase the girls around and play with them, matching grins on all four of their faces. He chases them through the sprinklers - if those have been on all morning, your water bill is going to be through the roof - and lets them splash him, pretending to get scared. He watches while the two older girls clamber up the side of the small inflatable water slide you’d ordered back in June when it was obvious that the majority of the summer was going to be spent in Raleigh, with the girls running loose in the backyard.

Kira stays at the bottom, in the splash zone, shrieking happily when Evie and Alina zip down the slide and hit her with water.

It’s honestly the best thing you’ve ever bought - the Nečas kids have been over for play dates at least once a week to run wild in the water and you’ve had a ton of the other guys and their families over for barbecues and parties. Now, you’re just glad it’ll keep your girls occupied while you relax.

After you’ve been outside for an hour or so, you call them all back so you and Andrei can reapply sunscreen to the girls’ pink little faces and shoulders. Andrei gets his own healthy dose of sunscreen, even though it’s too late for him to avoid the sunburn on his face, chest, and shoulders. You make a mental note to throw a bottle of aloe into the fridge when you get inside.

“I hate this, Mama!” Alina whines, bouncing from foot to foot while you try to cover her face in Baby Coppertone. “It’s yucky and sticky and I don’t want it!”

“If you don’t let me reapply,” you huff, out of breath from trying to keep her still between your knees and your severely diminished lung capacity, “your skin is going to turn pink and hurt.”

“I want pink skiiiin!” Alina howls, dodging your sunscreen covered hands and running off, her face a little mask of white from the lotion you hadn’t been able to rub in properly. She disappears into the playhouse and you roll your eyes, giving up completely. You’re too exhausted to fight her and tomorrow’s sunburn will be a problem for the babysitting grandparents while you push out the bowling ball baby laying on your bladder.

Behind you, Andrei laughs and teases you, “just like her Mama, that one.”

“Absolutely not,” you grumble, holding out your hands to him so he can pull you to your feet. “I’m literally so quiet and agreeable.”

“Maybe when you’re sleeping,” Andrei scoffs, helping you step out of the pool. His palm finds the side of your stomach like a magnet, fingers spread over the swell protectively. “Otherwise, you’re stubborn like a bull.” He pauses, smirks. “And loud.”

“You’re terrible,” you mutter, waddling as fast as you can to the bathroom. “Bullying the woman who’s carrying your fourth giant baby.”

Andrei’s voice carries through the bathroom door as you shut it behind you, “this is only the second big baby! The other two were normal sized.”

Later, when it’s far past your bedtime and you still can’t sleep with excitement and nerves swirling low in your belly, you whisper into the dark of your bedroom, “Drei? Are you awake?”

It takes a second, but eventually he replies, “depends.”

“On what?” You reply quietly, shifting and bending your leg so you can open up your hip a little and relieve some of the uncomfortableness. Kira curls closer to you, one arm draped over your stomach, the thumb of her other hand wedged firmly in between her lips. She looks even more like a baby while she sleeps, long eyelashes fluttering against the tops of her cheeks, and you start to feel emotion clogging your throat. Her last night of being the family’s baby. You hadn’t had the heart to put her back in her own bed when she came wandering in a few hours ago.

“On what you need from me,” Andrei’s voice is clouded with sleep, but you see and feel him roll onto his side so he’s facing you.

You stick your tongue out at him lightly. “Last night as a family of five,” you murmur. “Any final guesses - fourth girl or first boy?”

“Girl,” Andrei replies on a yawn, reaching his hand out and over Kira to rub at your belly. “Belly looks the same as it did with all three, just bigger.”

He’s not wrong, but, “agreed. But only because I think my nose spread out again like with the girls.”

“You’re just as beautiful as always,” Andrei says.“Your nose looks the same too.”

You’re convinced he’s lying, but there’s no point in arguing now.

“Think we’ll see bub tomorrow or will it be a couple of days?” You yawn, exhausted but wired. You can’t decide if you have to pee or if it’s just the pressure of the baby.

“Tomorrow,” Andrei laughs a little, “if the kid knows what’s good for her.”

You yawn again and Andrei tells you to get some rest, “it’s going to be a busy few days, solnyshka.”

Somehow you manage to fall asleep and then it’s induction day, a hectic morning consisting of four grandparents showing up and three little girls bouncing around asking if their baby is coming yet. You’re overwhelmed by the time Andrei helps you into the passenger seat of the Navigator, kissing you gently.

“Calm, my love,” he murmurs against your lips, rubbing at your stomach. “We know what to do, right?”

You nod, “right.” Wrapping your fingers in the neck of his t-shirt, you tug Andrei back in for another kiss. “Let’s go have a baby!”

Twelve hours later, you’re dripping in sweat, contractions gripping your stomach every thirty seconds with regularity. Andrei’s eaten lunch, dinner, and then a second dinner around 8:30. You, on the other hand, are on your ninth cup of ice chips and are dying for something that will actually fill you up.

You hold out your hand for Andrei’s when another contraction starts and he lets you crunch his fingers together while you breathe through it. “More ice?” He asks, brushing frizzy, damp strands of hair off your forehead.

“No,” you huff, slumping back against the pillows. “I never want to see an ice chip again. The second this kid pops out, I need you to get me a party platter of sushi, I don’t care what time it is.”

Andrei laughs and promises that he’ll get you whatever you want.

After that, it’s a blur. The contractions are nonstop, your ob/gyn between your legs encouraging you to push, and Andrei’s arm braced around your upper back to give you some leverage.

“Okay, I see some hair,” your doctor says. “Big head, but one push and it should be out. Then we’ve got a baby!”

Andrei murmurs encouraging words in your ear that you barely hear over the rush of blood in your head and the guttural scream that forces out of your throat. You scream and cry and there’s pressure and then release as the baby slides out.

You’re allowed to slump back against the pillows, tears streaming down your face while you crane your neck to see the baby, “is the baby healthy? Is she okay?”

“He’s just perfect,” your doctor beams, holding the baby up. “It’s a boy, mom and dad!”

Her words sink in and you start sobbing - a little boy!

Your husband’s big hand is cradled over your head and the baby’s on your chest, bloody and scrunched up and crying. Your own hands automatically come up to cradle him, your lips pressing against the top of his head. “A boy! Oh my god, Drei, a little boy,” you sob to him, laughing into Andrei’s mouth when he kisses you.

“I’m so proud of you,” he says shakily, his cheeks wet. “A son. Solnyshka, thank you. He’s - thank you. Fuck, I love you so much.”

Andrei’s hand comes up to cover yours on the baby’s back and you’re jolted by how warm his hand is compared to yours, you’re shaking and freezing, but all you can focus on is how happy you are.

The baby’s cries taper off and he nuzzles against your chest, your heart melting at how perfect and adorable he is.

“He looks like the girls,” Andrei comments, unable to stop staring. His fingers stroke over the baby’s back, your own trembling with the adrenaline come down.

You laugh. “They all look like you, babe. My genes never stood a chance,” you can’t stop smiling, pressing your lips all over the baby’s head. He’s so warm against your chest.

You’re not sure how long you get to keep the baby on your chest, but the next thing you know, you’re in recovery, dozing while you watch Andrei hold his son. The baby is a big one, like you’d expected, weighing in at a sold nine pounds, eleven ounces. Your entire lower body is still throbbing with pain, but it’s all so worth it to see Andrei with the baby cradled in his arms.

“Four kids and I still can’t believe he’s real,” Andrei chuckles hoarsely, gazing down at the baby with shiny eyes.

“Oh, I can believe it,” you reply dryly, shifting with a wince. “I feel like we should’ve been more prepared with boy names.”

You’d run through the list of the few that you had liked, but none seem right. His middle name will be for Andrei, but the first name is stumping you both.

“We’ll figure it out,” Andrei looks up at you with a grin. “I love you so much, I said that, right?”

“Several times,” you hold out your arms and wiggle your fingers at him. “Give me back my baby, Drei.”

Andrei transfers the baby to you with the ease of a practiced parent, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. You’re both exhausted and it’s so early in the morning the sun isn’t even up yet. You’ll have to pass out soon, but right now you can’t get enough of the infant. He looks so much smaller when he was in Andrei’s arms. You trace over the slope of his nose with the tip of your index finger, seeing so much of the girls and Andrei in his features. “You sure you don’t want to name him after your dad?” You ask, double checking.

“No, no,” Andrei shakes his head. “Geno has that covered. Besides,” his lips twist up in an impish little smile, “Igor’s not my favorite name.”

You know he’s thinking about the Canes’ most recent loss to the Rangers in the second round of the playoffs. The Rangers getting swept in the ECF had been extremely satisfying in your house.

You giggle a little and watch as the baby yawns. He’s been quiet, sleeping on and off, so much more peaceful than his older sisters. “Okay, I get it. You know, my grandfather, his name was Demetrius. A few letter changes…Dimitri?”

Andrei’s knuckle brushes against the soft pudge of the baby’s cheeks and murmurs the name. “Dimitri,” it sounds so different, so much better in his accent, “Dimka.”

He yawns in your arms and it feels like something clicks into place in your chest. You nod at Andrei, “that’s it. That’s his name.”

“Dimitri Andreievich,” Andrei laughs as he says the name. “Big name for a little boy.”

“He’s almost ten pounds,” you scoff. “This is a gift from the Big Boy genes, oh husband of mine.”

He smirks at you, leaning in for a kiss and your poor battered vagina gives a weak throb of pain. It’s too soon for him to be this adorable.

After a solid three hours of sleep, broken up once so you can try feeding Dimitri, you start pestering Andrei for your sushi. It’s nearing eight in the morning on the nineteenth, making it nearly twenty-four hours since you had breakfast with the girls before coming to the hospital.

“What about anything else?” He frowns at you. “Sushi for breakfast is…” He trails off, wrinkling his face in disgust.

With the baby latched to a nipple, you pout at him. “Did I or did I not push your giant child out of my body?” You pause to inhale and then continue, “And! Since it was already this morning before someone thought to feed me, all I’ve eaten in twenty four hours is ice chips and a peanut butter sandwich. I am starving!”

Andrei laughs at you, but before he can answer, gets distracted by his phone vibrating in his pocket. It’s probably Elena, looking for an update since you hadn’t called anyone in the early hours after Dimitri had been born, exhausted and looking to soak in the time as a trio. You turn your attention to the baby while Andrei chats in Russian on the phone. He hangs up and sits down on the edge of the bed, wrapping his hand around your knee. “Mama says the girls are going wild, waiting to hear about their new baby,” he grins toothily. “Can sushi wait? I think maybe I’ll go get the girls to introduce them to their brother.”

“Natives are restless?” You ask, the guilt of being away from the girls, even for a day, even to literally give birth, starting to creep in. Tears well in your eyes and you don’t bother to do anything about it, knowing you’re going to be a weepy mess for the foreseeable future. “How do you feel about meeting the big sisters, D?”

Dimitri lets out a soft little baby squeak and you give Andrei a watery grin. “I think he likes that plan. Bring me my girls.”

In the time that Andrei’s gone, Dimitri naps in his little plastic bassinet and you get helped into the bathroom by your nurse, ready to sit with the girls as long as their attention spans can handle it. You brush your hair back into a neater braid and wash your face clean of sweat. By the time that Andrei texts that he’s parking, you feel a little more human.

You can hear little footsteps running down the hall and you rub a hand over Dimitri’s belly, “get ready for Hurricane Svechnikova, bub.”

“Mama!” Evie bursts through the door first, hair in two pigtails on the top of her head and a bright red tutu around her waist. You beam at the sight of her and open your arms.

“Hi, bunny,” you coo, emotions clogging up your throat. “Come give me a hug!”

She dances over to your side and clambers up on the bed, nearly smacking you in the face with a piece of construction paper and jostling you a little painfully. You wrap her up in a tight hug, inhaling her little-kid scent of markers and Johnson and Johnson shampoo. Over her shoulder, you see Alina skip into the room and you hold open one arm.

“My Alya,” you grin. “Come join Mama.”

She’s in a Canes giveaway t-shirt that you’d cut down so it wasn’t a literal dress on her and you briefly wonder how wild they were being if this is how they ended up dressed. Alina needs a little help getting up on the bed and as Evie is pulling at the back of her shirt, Andrei appears at the door, Kira on his hip and an exasperated frown on his face.

“Didn’t Papa tell you not to run?” He raises an eyebrow at the older girls cuddled against your sides.

“We missed Mama,” Evie replies, pouting. You smooth a hand over her hair and shake your head at Andrei. They don’t need a parenting moment right now. Kira wiggles in his arms and reaches for you until Andrei relents and settles her on your lap in a way that doesn’t cause you pain. None of the girls have even so much as looked at the baby, but you’re not rushing them, knowing it’s a big change for them.

Andrei settles on the little couch while the girls fill you in on all the fun they had with the grandparents yesterday. They make Andrei bring you the bag of pictures they drew for you and the baby and that seems to trigger them. “Oh! Wait, Mama,” Evie perks up and looks around, “where’s the baby?”

You laugh and point at the plastic bassinet, “your little brother is right there. Just waiting to meet you three.”

Like it was rehearsed, all three of them scramble to the side of the bed to get a good look at Dimitri.

“He’s a boy?” Alina asks, squinting down at him.

“We have a brother? Not a sister?” Evie carefully reaches a hand into the bassinet to touch one of Dimitri’s tiny feet. “I thought it was a sister.”

“Baby!” Kira pats the edge of the plastic. “Baby in Mama’s belly?”

You kiss the back of her head. “Yeah, this is the baby that was in Mama’s tummy. His name is Dimitri.”

Andrei comes over to lift Kira and Alina into his arms so they can get a better look at the baby. “It’s different, right, to have a brother?” He asks, looking at you softly. You know he wouldn’t have cared if the baby were a girl, but there’s something about men and their sons, and you’re beyond happy that you were able to give him that.

“He’s not going to do much for a while,” you say. “But when he gets moving, I bet you’re all going to have a lot of fun.”

“Mmm,” Evie hums thoughtfully. “Boys are kinda yucky.”

“I’m a boy!” Andrei gasps, mock offended. “Am I yucky?”

You shoot him a wicked smile over Evie’s head and mouth ‘filthy’ at him, surprised that you even have it in you to flirt with him. Andrei laughs, his eyes sparkling, and you both nearly miss it when Evie chirps, “yeah, ‘cause sometimes you’re smelly after hockey.”

You snort a laugh and then, sensing that he’s missing some kind of party, Dimitri stirs, making little noises and wiggling his arms and legs. The girls watch, fascinated, and you skirt around Evie so you can pick him up. You glance at the clock on the wall and it’s been close to two and a half hours since you fed him, so he’s probably hungry. He starts to fuss more and the girls look a little disgruntled by the noise, so before they start complaining, you pucker up and plant a smacking kiss to Evie’s cheek, making her giggle. “How about Papa brings you guys back home so you can play and don’t have to watch me change any stinky diapers? Then you can come back later with Nana and Pop and Babu and Dedu? You can introduce them all to your new brother,” you grin, adding more excitement and animation to your tone so they’ll get excited too.

“You’re sure?” Andrei asks, even as your two middle kids are fighting in his arms, chattering at each other over who touched who. He’d scooped them off the bed as soon as Alina started poking at Kira to see how close she could get the former baby of the family to the edge of the bed without pushing her off. The noise they’re making is starting to agitate Dimitri and you’re very sure. Andrei himself looks a little frazzled with the girls practically shrieking in his ears.

“Go ahead,” you widen your eyes at him. “We’ll, ah, we’ll do a little more sibling bonding later in the day. D and I aren’t going anywhere.”

Andrei looks conflicted about leaving you, but honestly, Alina and Kira’s fighting is starting to give you a little bit of a headache. Dimitri is fussing more and you don’t want to start feeding him with the girls in the room because that opens up all the “whys” and “what are you doings” that the girls are so prone to these days.

Evie’s tucked against your side, looking down at the baby. She sighs and looks up at Andrei, “he’s so loud. Let’s come back when he’s quiet.”

Andrei’s mouth tips up in a half smile and you manage a weak laugh, reflexively holding out a hand to guide Evie when she half rolls, half climbs off the bed and beelines for the door. She waves over her shoulder and chirps a blithe, “bye Mommy, bye baby brother.”

“I think she’s expecting you to follow her,” you say to Andrei, a little wide eyed at your oldest’s actions. Securing Dimitri in one arm, you wave the other at the door, “go, please! Before she gets kidnapped!”

“Right, yeah,” Andrei nods and bounces the girls in his arms, “say bye to Mama. We’ll see her later, okay?”

Taking a little break from fighting, Alina and Kira wave at you over Andrei’s shoulders, blowing kisses. You wave back and then practically deflate when the door shuts behind Andrei and you’re left alone with the now opening crying Dimitri. You sigh and get him adjusted on your breast, quieting him immediately. You rub tiredly at your eyes, frustrated and exhausted. Maybe you’d underestimated the chaos four kids are going to be.

Once Dimitri is finished eating, you call for a nurse to bring him back to the nursery so you can get some much needed sleep. “I always feel bad sending them to the nursery,” you confess to the nurse, Jenna. “It makes me feel like a bad mom.”

“Sweetheart,” she laughs warmly, “I saw that husband of yours head out of here with your little girls. Sleep as much as you can before going home to that chaos.”

“They’re usually much better behaved,” you say wryly. “New sibling apparently throws off the routine.”

She tucks Dimitri into a swaddle and says, “oh, they get used to it. You two are old pros at this, so I think you know what you’re doing.”

You smile warily at her, a nervous pit in your stomach that you hadn’t felt after any of the girls’ births. You’re not sure why you feel so unsettled now, raising a boy in the early infancy stage isn’t any different than raising daughters. When Jenna takes Dimitri back to the nursery, you slide down on the bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin and getting as comfortable as possible to take a nap. A few tears leak out of the corners of your eyes, dripping down your temples and into your hair and you take a deep breath. It catches in your throat a little and you hiccup, covering your eyes with a cold, shaky palm.

Somehow, you manage to nap on and off, dozing in that weird limbo where you can hear most of what’s happening around you, but time passes faster than you think. After what feels like two minutes, but is actually closer to two hours, you give up on the nap and find your phone in the mess on the bedside table. You busy yourself with responding to texts and scrolling through social media, zoning out to a video of a woman making homemade pop tarts when Andrei appears at the door.

“Delivery,” he announces, your head shooting up at the sound of his voice. In his hand is an obscenely large paper bag with the name of your favorite sushi place stamped on the side. He catches your gaze and shakes it enticingly. “Husband of the year, yes?”

“If there’s spicy tuna in there, I’ll get the trophy engraved now,” you tease, a small, but genuine smile on your face. Andrei kisses the corner of your mouth and sets the bag on the rolling table.

“Two spicy tuna and plenty of miso soup,” he promises, sitting down on the mattress and helping you unpack the plastic containers.

You rub your chopsticks together and ask, “how are the girls? Everything okay at home?”

Andrei’s in different clothes than when he left and he smells like soap and cologne, so you know he at least showered when he got home.

“They’re good, don’t worry about them,” he reassures you, passing over a container of seaweed salad. “Kir was down for a nap when I left and our moms were playing Barbies with the older two.”

You nod, poking at the seaweed with a lazy motion. Andrei’s gaze is steady on your bent head, you can feel his eyes studying you and so you eat a mouthful of the seaweed, chewing slowly. As hungry as you had been earlier, it’s hard to swallow now. Andrei’s knee bumps yours and you look up at him, worried brown eyes on yours.

“What’s going on, solnyshka? Are you okay?” He ducks his head so he can maintain eye contact. One of his hands comes up and cups your cheek. You lean into his touch and shrug.

“I’m okay,” you sigh. “Just…”

Andrei’s quiet while you try and find the words. You’re not even sure what you’re feeling, why you’re so overly emotional.

“I missed the girls,” you say quietly. “But, four kids? It just…this isn’t going to be easy at all, Drei. They all started chattering and Dimitri was crying and I just wanted to cry too.”

“He’s not even a day old,” Andrei says gently. “It’s okay you’re emotional. I’ll tell you a secret,” he laughs under his breath, “I cried in the car when I went to get the girls.”

“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, setting your chopsticks down. Andrei’s not usually one to admit to crying.

“Yeah,” he nods. “Probably more because we have a son, but still. I cried.” Andrei winks at you, smiling warmly.

A little laugh slips past your lips and you tug at the end of your braid. “I think I’ll be okay once I get into a routine. But I’m glad the moms are staying until the season starts, we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

Andrei scoffs and moves to sit next to you and wrap his arm around your shoulders so you can burrow against his side. “You’re the rock, koroleva. If anyone can handle me, four kids, and the hockey season, it’s you,” he praises you, mouth pressed against your temple. “Just tell me if you’re overwhelmed, okay? We figure it out as a team.”

You nod against his side, the knot in your chest loosening a bit. Your arm rests on his stomach and Andrei keeps you as close as possible, knowing you need the physical comfort right now. “We’re so done having kids, by the way,” you mutter into his shirt.

Andrei laughs and your whole body vibrates with the sound. He rubs his hand up and down your arm, teasing, “Dimka and I are still outnumbered.”

“Oh, that is not something I care about,” you laugh in response, snaking your hand out to pluck a piece of sushi out of its container. “We’re closed for business down there.” You pause and then continue, knowing Andrei will have a retort. “For baby making business. Other fun activities will be reevaluated at six weeks.”

Your husband gives you a mock little salute, amusement written plainly on his face. He picks up his own piece of sushi with his free hand, popping the piece in his mouth and chewing before he says, quietly and totally sincerely, “you’re the best mom the kids could’ve asked for, you know that, right?”

“You’re going to make me cry again, you big jerk,” you sniffle, pressing a hand to your mouth. “I just finished crying!”

“I’m sorry,” Andrei cuddles you closer. “Eat and rest, because the moms are not going to want to wait too much long to meet the little guy.”

You pull back a little so look up at Andrei’s face and he has a slightly dopey look in his eyes, a little upturn to his lips like he’s trying to fight off a smile. “You want to go get him, don’t you?” You ask, exhaling a little laugh through your nose.

Andrei nods eagerly, unable to hide his excitement. “Yeah,” he admits, “I know we should rest, but I really want to keep holding him.”

“Go get him,” you say, “I kind of want to get a hit of that newborn smell.”

“Weirdo,” Andrei captures your chin in his fingers and tilts your head up to kiss you sweetly.

You grin against his mouth, “your weirdo and mother to your weird children too.”

Andrei’s laugh follows him all the way out the door.

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov x you #andrei svechnikov fic #nhl fic

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nouearth · 9 months

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12 Months

peter parker x male reader.

series: 12 Months. part i.

summary: where you couldn't possibly imagine to find love and sanctuary anywhere else, you somehow find it in the presence of a boy named peter.

wc: 4.3k. genre: angst. warnings: loner!reader, sad!reader, implied abuse, implied bullying, high school senior year, slow-burn.

a/n: i'm trying something new with my writing! mostly not using all lowercase because it became a pain to type on my phone, LOL. but i welcome you guys to my fully planned series! it's exciting, but especially kind of scary since school is coming up. i might put off requests to focus on this, if it does well, but if not, i'll slowly update. i guess the reader kind of hits close to home, a little too close, since i've been feeling some type of way recently. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy the first part!

SEPTEMBER.

The big hand of the clock flicked closer to the end of the day, the small hand circling around the circumference to pass time.

Conversations of peers were usually drowned out with the help of your earbuds. The gentle strum of acoustics would counter the excitement of the students’ well-being; friends opinionated in after-school activities, athletes talked about the upcoming game with your rival school, artists boasted over the amount of commissions they’ve received overnight.

For the first time, you heard it all, and took it all in with an inhale, then silence as you stared at Peter Parker. The earbuds were slotted into your ear canals, but today, the wired nubs were worn to merely dull your surroundings as you awaited the intercom to bid the occupants of the building farewell for the day. Your leg shook, bouncing your book bag atop of it, and you held it steady when you hugged it close to your chest, chin resting at the strap. It appeased the throttle in your chest, but every time the classmate opened his mouth for a laugh, it swelled painfully larger. A pump to the husk of a balloon, a breath to the bubble of blue raspberry bubblegum, a vapor to the particles of billowed smoke, it continued swelling and roped your anxiety along for the journey. A part of you needed to talk to him, but the other part begged for reconsideration.

At some point, you forgot to breathe. Feeling blue in the cheeks, you finally exhaled the caught nerves. They drew out of you in shivers, spaghetti boiling in bubbling water if the warmth of your breath could change matter. While the man listened, then talked within his small group of friends, chairs and desks were gathered around to form a circle, you examined him cautiously. If Peter was to turn his head and meet the affection in your gaze, you were lucky to have the window by your side to turn back to, feigning interest in the clouds, the sky, the breeze in the trees. Until then, his smile unmasked pearly whites that rivaled the lights that illuminated the classroom. His russet hair was pushed back, wavy locks that were brushed simply so people could easily follow the pattern with one glance.

“Gooooood Afternoon, Midtown!” The intercom blared, and a warning from your teacher hushed your classmates into a sea of scatters. “Before we send you kiddos off, we would like to remind all of you that the Midtown Tigers will be playing against Weston’s Sea Hawks tonight! Show your support by attending the game and cheering for our team. Let’s show those dirty hawks that tonight will be the night that we can bounce back from our 18th consecutive loss!” It continued with its usual announcements of bus delays and afternoon activities before finally blaring that cathartic bell.

Footsteps crowded the halls, and your classmates joined its symphony in heavy to light strides. While you watched, your pace slowed deliberately as Peter’s friends bid him farewell. You overheard them asking him if he was going to join them in the mall, but he declined, blaming his absence on his aunt. They left one by one, until the only occupants were you, your teacher, and Peter.

“Peter?” You were up on your feet, approaching him from the back of the classroom as you slung the bag over your shoulder. Your voice cracked from the parched of your throat, mousy in performance, and you were unsure if Peter heard you. Your mouth opened again to call to him again, but he turned with a friendly smile, raising his brows in interest, and they closed.

“Oh, hey!” His face lit up when he saw you, or maybe you were convincing yourself. Not even your reflection looked at you the way Peter did. You were even surprised he recognized you. Cared to remember you. He hurriedly threw his books into his backpack before swinging it over his shoulder, meeting you in the middle of the row of desks. “What’s up?”

“I…” You’ve only spoken to him twice. The first was a mere greeting, and the second was a painful answer to his worry.

Are you okay? Yes.

The beating in your chest hiked in rhythms, compelled gravity to rob your voice, but you were conscious enough to steal it back, softly speaking. “I just want to thank you for… last year. I never got to… properly thank you. So, thank you…” You were intoxicated by the amount of times you said those appreciative words, but gratitude sobered you up, offering the latter a small, grateful smile.

“Oh…” The smile on Peter’s face simmered into a relieved line. He then nodded towards the door for you to follow him, and you did, silently by his side. “You don’t have to thank me, (M/N). I did what anyone would do.”

Everyone let it happened, except for you.

The hallway was quick to clear as students rushed to spend the remaining hours of their Friday without any regrets. The silence was deafening except for the squeak of your shoes and the whispered gossip between faculty members, and for a place you often labeled as your personal hell, it wasn’t so bad when it was purged of those that spawned that definition in your life.

Maybe you were walking slower, or you were keeping with Peter’s pace, or the hallways had undergone construction to stretch the floors, or the awkward silence between the both of you that blurred your perception, but the travel from your classroom to the exit of the building was a journey.

“Is he still bothering you? I don’t know if he’s in your other classes, but he’s not in mine, so…” Peter spoke up, alluding to the classmate who called you disgusting names, shoved your books to the floor, stole the change of your clothes during gym. And you wished it would stop there, at the actions of the cliché bully trope, but it never did. He pushed the door open, politely letting you out first, and you stepped into the warmth with a small thank you,’ and continued walking with him. Summer cicadas harmonized in their greeting.

“No, not anymore.” You lied, dropping that hand that once held onto the padded straps of your backpack to your side. The dark color of your pants masked the bruise on your wrist when you shoved it deep into your pocket. “I have him in a few of my classes, but luckily he’s preoccupied with his friends.”

“Geez, you got his friends too? That’s… gotta be a loud classroom.” He laughed, and you joined in to delude yourself, and Peter, into thinking everything was okay.

The sound of multiple engines running within the yellow busses reminded you how incredibly enamored you were with Peter. By now, motors would’ve been buried by earbuds, and the walk wouldn’t have been so deafening to your ear canals. But hearing Peter’s voice soothed the damage, and you wished you had a playlist of him saying your favorite words, reading your favorite novels, rescuing you with worried comfort. You wanted to continue the conversation, change the subject, but you never knew how, so it fell to silence. Again.

“I’ll see you around, Peter.” You spoke softly again, paused when you and Peter reached the end of the sidewalk. You were familiar with Peter’s route. He lived in the opposite side of your street, and the curved path to the right practically led him back to his apartment. All he had to do was follow the beige pavement. “…and thank you, again. It means a lot.” A genuine smile, one that you haven’t been able to sprout for weeks, months you could argue, and Peter’s breath hiked.

“Of course…” It took his breath away. The cloudy day was drawing in the last of its colors, but the rare hint of your teeth, the curve of your lips, made the sky above him, behind you, bloom in the softest blues, yellows, and whites. Selfishly, he wished you smiled more, because the release that was pulled from him evened the astonishment of a child seeing stars for the very first time.

“I’ll see you around, (M/N).”

OCTOBER.

The workload in your classes had picked up, and with the part-time job at the local bookstore, you were envious of customers who had finished their backlog of novels. Mainly working adults. Still, there was never enough hours in the day to immerse yourself in the world of a brave protagonist, slaying off demons and dragons in the pursuit of love. You never got to finish the fantasy novel you were reading, but you’d imagine it ended with the hero beheading the fire-breathing behemoth, and its head would be pridefully worn on a stick like cotton candy. Cheers erupted when the character returned, then roared when their love blessed them with one thankful kiss.

The ladder was anchored to the wooden, though creaky, floors as you held your breath from inhaling dust. When the door was pushed open by curious passersby, particles of dust sailed with the draft that was invited in, and you coughed into the crook of your arm whenever one floated into your throat. Though, you couldn’t be too annoyed. It also provided a test to see if the Halloween decorations could withstand the wind as they sat on hooks that were nailed into the ceilings. Spirals of orange and black ribbons roped cartoonish gravestones, black cats, pumpkins, skulls, ghouls, all the mascots of the holiday, from above. The draft animated them in gentle swings, delicate arcs that cooled the confined space of the bookstore, but as far as you could tell, none of them had landed on the ground.

“Looks great, (M/N)! I think we’re good on the hanging decorations!” Your manager, Anna, gave the metal ladder a strong pat before tending to the fallen dust. It shook in fear, and you did too, immediately clutching to the fly to stabilize it.

“Any else? We still haven’t decorated the windows.” You climbed down cautiously, making sure she was in your line of sight because for all you could know, she could be an omen.

“The stick on the ones I got suck, so I was thinking that we’ll decorate it on Halloween? Before opening?” She said, opening the door after to sweep out the culprits of your coughing fits.

“Sounds good.” You collapsed the extension of the ladder once you stepped off, folding it into a thicker shape, and nodded before returning the ladder to its rightful place in the storage room.

“Doing anything fun for Halloween?! Parties?!” Anna’s voice boomed despite the door muffling it. The natural luminous of her voice was something you usually cowered away from, especially when she called for you in front of customers. Luckily, the store was closed, vacant of any witnesses to the flare of your cheeks. Cardboard boxes stacked atop of one another, and for some reason, you were suddenly determined to face your procrastination head-on. “Horror movies?!”

“Uh…” The volume of your voice was still muted despite forcing yourself to make it sonorous. It came out in staggered breaths as you flattened the boxes with your weight, stepping on them at the crease and fold, until you were able to fold them into neat, flat shapes. “Not really! I usually don’t do anything for celebrations.”

“Seriously?” The sound of sweeps came closer to you. They sounded like laughs, almost as if they were mocking you. When you looked up, it was Anna’s fretted expression that reminded you that they were just sounds. No one was here to hurt you. Laugh at you.

It was just you and Anna. And sounds.

“Mm-hmm.” You simply answered, packing the flattened boxes into a trash bag before storing it back to where the stack previously harbored. The room felt bigger now. You exited after switching off the lights, and took Anna’s broom to sweep up the fuzzy stray materials of cardboard.

“How come?” Her shoulder supported her leaning stance as she pressed to the wall, watching you diligently work with crossed arms. She gasped out of realization. “Oh no—did something horrible happen on Halloween? Is that why you don’t celebrate?!”

“No, nothing like that!” You laughed. It was always genuine with her. Anna was at least twenty years older than you, but she still kept the youthfulness of a child. You were envious of it.

“I just…” Big sweeps to walnut flooring kept your mind at ease. The thick hairs brushed evenly, catching lint in the hay. They clung protectively onto the strands the more you brushed, the harder as well. It reminded you of nights, lonesome in your bed. No matter how hard you tried to remove those pesky lints, they always stayed. Always found a way to intrude. “—don’t have parties to go to.”

Nor did you have friends to watch movies with, or a willing family to celebrate with if all plans fell through. It’s been you since you can remember, and you’ve gotten used to it. Though, you’d never admit that to her.

The trail of your voice and the mindless polishing of walnut immediately foiled your discreet speech, but Anna knew better than to prod. From the day you came in for the interview, she remembered the timidness of your slouch, your pattern of speech, your orbs. One could argue that they were nerves, universal tremors one every eighteen year old got when applying for their first job. Then, she trained you. It was just you and her, and the shelves of delicate books. Over the next few weeks, Anna learned that you were as frail as the old spine of donated hardbacks.

Her knowledge of you only sank surface-deep, barely a scratch or a wound. At one point, she thought it was because of her personality: chipper as a mourning dove, loud as her neighbor’s lawnmower on Sundays, but compared to how she met you five months ago, it delighted her to see progress. Slowly but surely, you opened up to her. She knew your favorite color, your favorite meal, your favorite novel, and she was no longer insecure. There will be a time when she’d meet the root of your soul, and if it took a month, a year, or another, she’d wait.

“Everything okay at school?” She’s been meaning to ask. It was an exciting time for a new business, but incredibly stressful as well. Most never made it after six months, especially within an industry where independent bookstores have become increasingly difficult to sustain with the presence of technology. Anna was just fortunate enough to have seen such quick growth.

Anna took the broom from your hand, stashed it back in the storage room, then guided you to a table for two near the entrance of the store. It was her favorite spot because she loved seeing the wonderment of her customers when they left with the book they couldn’t find anywhere else.

“Yeah,” You quickly answered and offered her a simple smile, devoid of any purpose but to pacify her worries. It worked on your parents, and you liked to think that it worked on Anna as well. “Well, they’re doing some construction in the school gym. I heard that they’re planning to add a room for—“

“That’s great, (M/N), but…” Her arms remained crossed, below her chest, and she nodded to the bruise on your cheek. Purple bloomed high on your cheekbone. Occasionally, it throbbed whenever a draft hit your frail skin. You assumed it was its way to kiss it better, and so you would let it in seek of sating the empty feeling in your stomach. “That. I meant the bruise…”

“Oh—“ Out of instinct, your hand reached up to dab at the purpling skin. Numbed at the first layer, but you pressed deeper, and you hid a jolt with a sudden clear of your throat. “Uh… cat— got me. My mom always said to never play with strays.”

It was a lame excuse and you knew it. Anna did too. Before you could see her face scrunch into a stew of concern, you turned the bruised cheek away and looked to the heights of the sky, out the window, and wished you could fly into the night.

On Halloween, the promotion regarding a sale on donated books, though only paperbacks, if you wore a costume propelled the place to a considerable height. The small size of the store felt even smaller, even more so as Anna’s playlist Halloween music blared in the wall stereo. The sound waves and chatters of excited customers confined you, and you shrunk yourself in corners where it would be coldest. Anna took care of the crowd of patrons, while you assembled the paperbacks in a neatly order within the shelves.

Anna didn’t expect you to comply in participating in the event of Halloween, so the elation in her face was immediately framed in your mind when she hugged you tight, bruising enough to beckon the former bruise on your cheek to reappear, in your Where’s Waldo outfit. Simple, but you were a simple man.

“Excuse me?” An inquisitive voice tore your focus from arranging the novels in alphabetical order. You were kneeling to fill the lower shelf that was too low for anyone to comfortable browse through, but maintained the position as the crowd seemed to have closed in on you. “Do you know if this book qualifies for the sale, or is it paperback only?”

You looked up through your artificial glasses, and the size of your eyes matched the roundness of your frames when it embarrassingly didn’t take you very long to uncover who was under the layer of green face paint. “Peter?”

“O-oh! (M/N), you work here?” His eyes also widened, but he was sober enough to reach his hand out for you to grab onto. “That’s fitting, I guess. You always went to the library during lunch—I-I mean, not that I watch you or anything. I just— happened to notice…” The heat from your palm jumped onto Peter’s when you held on and pulled yourself to your feet. You weren’t sure what to respond to first, but the closed distance between you and Peter was distracting. A fleeting feeling in your chest, and it still overstays it welcome when you backed a step away.

Peter’s never been so close to you. He could smell the scent of ocean mist that he likened to previous shopping trips ago. His aunt may would drag him to the nearest retail store and he’d spend every second of the agonizing trip smelling laundry scent boosters while she stocked up on the pantry. He laughed to himself. You seemed like the type to use those.

“Thanks, uh…” You carefully took the hardback in your hand, examining it with several cycles of flips. It was in mint condition. Usually, a poorer state allowed an extra discount. “The sale is only for paperbacks, but…” Your eyes scanned the room. Fewer people now. Anna was still busy entertaining those that came to participate in the costume contest, a sudden endeavor to drive engagement.

“I can make an exception.” There was a swell in Peter’s heart when you gave him a smile, an uncertain small one, but nonetheless, a smile that warmed his insides. He wouldn’t have minded if he had paid full price anyhow, but he also wouldn’t reject the opportunity to save money.

He followed your steps to the back, away from the engaged crowd, and stilled as you began checking him out. “Just one book?” You looked up, and his lips were already parted as if he was about to say something, but he nodded instead.

Another moment of silence as you took his card after applying the sale to his book, and your fingers drummed to the beat of the music to fill it out, awaiting the receipt to print out. Whenever you had the courage to look at him, he was immersed in the ambiance of the bookstore. Smiling to himself, to Anna, to the laughter of the crowd, and you couldn’t help but hide one yourself, to the ground. When Peter faced you again, you quickly looked away in time, and the receipt rolled out in one smooth motion.

“How are you? Is it always this busy? I’ve never heard of this place.” Peter had a habit of stacking multiple questions with his own observations, with statements, with more questions. Rambles, people would call it. He was attentive, curious, and it all made him the more endearing.

“I’ve been doing okay. Tired, mostly. Miss Wilson’s been keeping me up though.” It was your attempt at a joke, and luckily, it landed when Peter laughed in agreement, elated as if he’d been waiting for the culprit of all-nighters to be of subject.

“Right?!” Peter shook his head when you asked if he wanted a bag, and continued, tucking the book in his armpit when you returned it to him. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love her—she’s awesome. But chill out on the essays! An essay about our essays is a task sent from the devil himself.”

A chuckle escaped from your lips, and a wider smile brimmed your face in support. For the first time, you felt compelled to talk, to engage into conversation. “Yeah, I missed a few deadlines, but she’s pretty lenient with late work, thankfully.”

“Really? I have a feeling it’s because it’s you! You’re probably her favorite student since you always get the right answers when she calls on you.” He laughed again to escape the awkwardness of his compliment. Subtle, but he hoped you took it pridefully.

Peter looked to the side to see if anyone was coming to conclude their purchase for the night, and was delighted to see the hardwood floor left unattended. “Are you doing anything after this? It’s Halloween, so I imagine people are probably out partying or something.”

“I’m not really a party person.” You nodded to assure yourself, mindlessly rearranging the supplies around the desk to avoid the gaze of his eyes. It sucked you in once, couldn’t look back even if you tried. It was only when Peter turned himself away that you were no longer staring into warm chestnuts. “I only dressed like this since I’d probably look a little out of place if I showed up in my usual uniform, haha.”

“You look cu—“ Peter hurriedly cut himself off, frantic before smiling again. “Nice. You look nice.”

“Thank you,” You returned his smile, soft in form. “What about you? Are you doing anything?”

“Well, I’m not a party person either—oh! There’s this new horror movie that came out a week ago! I’ve been dying to see it,” Peter sparked, gently bouncing on his toes as hope frayed within his words. “If you’re free, would you want to watch it with me?”

“Oh—“ For the first time, you had the option to say ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ and for some reason, Peter was always at the crime of your firsts. “W-what time? I’ll have to see if it’s okay with Anna if—“

“Let me see…” Light reflected off of Peter’s faced as he searched on his phone, but a buoyant smile that revealed his teeth shined brighter. “One showing at eight, another at ten, and one final one at midnight!”

“Is… midnight okay?” You hesitantly asked, and Peter brightened.

“Midnight is perfect.”

When you left from work, you didn’t bother to call for your parents. It would’ve gone to voicemail anyhow. Instead, Anna took the excited initiative to drive you to the theater despite your assurance that walking would’ve sufficed.

Nonsense! I’m getting my coat. Hold on! Stay right there!

The mystery of what held the rest of the night for you frightened you to the core. What if everything went downhill from here? What if Peter never showed up? What if this had been a prank all along? During the car ride, you breathed, and breathed, and breathed.

And then, breathed.

Inhaled.

Blew in one continuous breath.

Inhaled.

Your chest ran steady again.

That night, Peter made you feel normal. As normal as someone like you could be.

You didn’t plan on getting your fingers buttery, but Peter assured you that his popcorn wasn’t going to finish itself. You shared your sour gummies in return. Peter jumped when a ghost flew to the screen, and you did the same from his own erratic movements. You watched the film through half-closed eyes, peeking between the cracks of your greasy fingers, prepared to be startled by the sound of a door closing, and you laughed silently to yourself because it was silly when you flinched to a cat scurrying away.

While you focused, the structure of your nose and lips, your entire side profile, were handsomely illuminated by the flickers of the screen and Peter took in the animation of your presence, a behemoth contrast of the you he’d known silently for years; the you that kept to himself, ate at lunch by himself, did group projects by himself, studied in the library by himself, walked home by himself. It was pathetic, many would heckle to their circle of friends. Peter overheard the tease and taunts, and he wanted to defend you in those moments. But he couldn’t, not until he knew you.

When you felt the air thicken, you turned to Peter and his gaze unfurled the heavy cloud between the two of you until it vanished into smoke. It sucked you in; his eyes. And you stared wide-eyed, bewildered and lost in the sea of broken stars the screen illustrated in Peter’s orbs. They twinkled with every cut of the scene, sparkling under the terror of the performer’s haunting, until they no longer didn’t when he turned away.

Crimson blanched and wilted into his face, radiated even in the dark when you followed and turned back to the screen. You felt your cheeks rivaling in swatch.

For the first time, you weren’t scared.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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cuteskunkz · 2 months

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‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.Good Morning Princess₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

(Dom!Mike Schmidt x Sub!Reader)

~Summary: Mike comes home after a long day and needs to blow off some steam.

~Tags: consensual somno, pet names, degradation, praise, cnc, porn with plot lmfao

~Note: This fic is verrryyyy kinky and also my first that I've written in probably 9 years lol. Forgive me if the writing is bad :((( I was super Inspired after reading "So I'm stuck on this shithole island, and I can't even have a smoke?" By stop-talking. U should definitely check them out! Please let me know if you're interested in more <3

⊱✿⊰

"The things I would do for one day where I can enjoy myself without worrying about the weight of the world on my shoulders" he thought to himself. Mike's car pulled into the driveway and quickly turned off. He was feeling quite frustrated from cleaning the entire pizzeria after it was trashed sometime after he left at the end of his shift yesterday. It wasn't his fault that Steve refused to hire someone to take the morning shift to prevent things like these from happening yet all the repercussions fell into his hands. It was one thing after another for him. His family issues, the bills overdue and piling up, nothing but shitty jobs he had no choice but to work, and cleaning up after some complete assholes didn't make him feel any better. All he wanted was a sense of normality in his life and thankfully you provided that for him.

It was 9am on a bright Wednesday morning. The wind whipped through his hair making him promptly pull his sweater snuggly over his body as he began walking into his house. He unlocked the front door and looked around with a smile, expecting you to be the first thing he sees. It was oddly quiet- usually you'd be up watching tv or reading and listening to music after walking Abby to school yet you were nowhere to be found. He stalked room to room looking for you. A wave of sadness fell over him when he couldn't immediately find you. Were you going to disappear from his life like Garret?

He finally finds you cuddled up in his bed wearing nothing but one of his T-shirts that fit you more like a dress than anything. He took a moment to soak the image in. You were lying on your stomach with one leg propped up. Your hair being draped so beautifully over your shoulders made his stomach flutter. The sunlight spilling into his room through the blinds striped across your skin, giving you a warm look. Any negative feelings he felt before coming home completely washed away, instead being filled with gratitude and love. Where would he be without you?

He took a deep breath in through his nose and picked up the scent of the Versace perfume he got you for your birthday. He knew it was way out of his budget but you deserved only the best. God the things the smell of your perfume did to him. It activated something in him that made his pants fit more snug around him. He palmed his erection while watching you sleep. You look so peaceful like this but Mike couldn't help himself. He had so much pent up inside and he knew that only you could help him blow off some steam. He slowly unbuckled his belt and pulled himself out. There was a coating of precum on his tip that he used as lubricant while stroking himself at a painfully slow pace. He would do anything to fuck you right at this moment but decided to take it slow as to not spoil it.

He felt the pit in his stomach build and began fucking himself into his fist, pretending it was you gripped around his achingly hard cock. Small whimpers left his lips but Mike tried his hardest to stay quiet. He couldn't wake you just yet. "Fuck- this is torture" he thought to himself. He tucked his erection back into his boxers and walked over to the bedside table. He made note of your arm placement. Both of your arms were resting above your head on the pillow, inches away from the headboard. "Perfect" he whispered as he grabbed two sets of handcuffs and held them in front of your sleeping body.

He carefully snapped the cuffs around each of your wrists and then to the headboard. Mike felt like his boxers were going to bust as the seams. He grabbed your waist and propped you up on your knees just the way you like it. This elicited a small groan from you but you drifted back to sleep in no time. The arch of your back made his head spin. He licked his index and ring fingers and slid them into your glistening pussy. He curled his fingers slightly and began pumping into you. Your eyes fluttered with confusion and pleasure. You attempted to prop yourself up to get a visual but you immediately froze. "Good morning princess" Mike cooed.

"M-mike..." you stuttered. It was hard to contain the pleasure you felt in your lower abdomen. "Sorry baby, I couldn't wait until you got up. You looked so good just lying there" he replied in a sweet voice. His raspy voice and fingers hitting just the right spot had you ready to explode. Mike knew how much you loved to be woken up like this so it was a treat to both of you. "How do you want it tonight? I'll give you whatever you want baby, you know that". You knew how rough work has been for him even though he doesn't really talk much about it. You could practically see it in his dark circles.

You tried your hardest to reply, biting your lip and barely squeaking out your response: "h'ever you need sir". You were well aware of what calling him sir meant for your body and you were definitely in for it now. Mike was usually very soft and caring during sex but every now and then, he showed his dominance over you. This was one of those times. "Thank you princess. You always know what I need when I need it" he cooed once more while smacking his calloused hand on your ass. His touch made you yelp but you swallowed down the delicious pain.

He pulled his already unbuckled pants down and off his body with his free hand. "You let me know when you're close, yeah? Can't have you making a mess juuuust yet" he says in a playful voice. "S-sir I can't take much longer...p-please" you begged, trying to free your hands from the cuffs by shaking them around- feeling overwhelmed from his touch. "Aww poor puppy. I just started and you're already about to cum. So sensitive, hm?" He quickened his pace and used his other hand to play with your clit. "Fuck you're so wet for me. You take it so well princess."

You would do anything to please Mike, the guy just needed a break and you were more than happy to give him what he needs to feel better. "Mike... I'm almost there. Please..." you said in a breathy tone before you were interrupted. He completely stopped playing with your throbbing parts, grabbed a fistful of your hair, and began pulling. "What's my name slut?". You felt yourself getting wetter from the power he's displaying. "S-sir please I'm begging" you plead. "I can't take it anymore I'm sensitive". This causes a smirk to creep onto Mike's face.

"I'm sorry baby but that's not a choice tonight. Especially after not knowing your place" he states. He places a smack on your bundle of nerves that causes you to tremble. You love it when Mike felt comfortable enough to show this side of his sexual fantasies. It was invigorating to switch things up like this. You definitely love the caring Mike Schmidt that you fell in love with but you found him so attractive when he towered over you like this. "I understand sir."

He unclasps the cuffs from around you and pats your head gently. "That's better hm? What do you say?" He asks in a softer tone. Even when he's domming you he still always made sure to be considerate of your feelings. "Thank you mister" you say as you flip around to sit close to him and rub your wrists. "You wanna keep going baby? If it's really too much-" you stop him with a passionate kiss. You pull him to sit on the bed next to you by the collar of his shirt. "Of course sir, you can't stop what you started right?" you tease while shooting him a wink.

⊱✿⊰

AHHHHH I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT!!!!!!! I've been so anxious about uploading this so please let me know if you want me to pick up from the cliffhanger :P

#mike schimdt fanfic #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x you #fnaf movie #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson smut #Spotify

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brittscafe · 3 months

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Welcome to munch city...part 2

Synopsis: Gojo Saturo x fem! reader. Geto Suguru x fem! reader. How Gojo and Geto eat you out (separately)

I really love writing these even though I still have 15 wip in my drafts lol 😭

Gojo eats you out like you're his last meal on this earth. He teases you with his slender fingers and words. He's a goddamn whimpering mess, grinding onto the bed, trying to bring some relief to hard, aching cock.

Slick fingers sliding in and out of your pussy, teasing you and not curling up against your bundle of nerves inside of you. He likes to see your facial expressions as he teases you, slapping your pussy and chuckling as you whimper and beg for him to stop teasing you.

"Toru, p-please!" you whimper out, each time grinding on the palm of his hand to try and get a release. He'll just chuckle and place a sweet kiss on your cheek.

Has your legs spread open with his hands, pressing down onto them and not letting up.

Loves to use his tongue. He'll run his tongue over your folds, purposely staying away from your clit to annoy you. Whimpers if you grab onto his hair and have your fingers pressing into his undercut.

He'll mirror your actions too, pouting when you pout or making fun of how your jaw drops open when he finally pokes that spot with his long, sticky fingers covered in your juices.

Goes at a painfully slow pace until your moans grow louder and turn into gasps.

"That's my girl," he says, as your moving your hips along with the movements of his fingers, repeatedly hitting that spot until you're gushing all over his face.

Teases you about how much of a mess you made and how he has to clean it up, knowing he loves to clean it up. He'll use his tongue, slowly sliding it up your folds and then swirling it around your hole where your juices are still gushing out from.

Geto does not play around when he's eating you out. He gets down and goes straight to business. He's lowkey mean as fuck and is so rough, but let's be honest, you like it.

Definitely has his hair down and allows for you to play with it, but don't you dare tug on it or he'll stop pleasing you. He'll stare at you, holding his gaze on you, knowing he has such control over you.

Sucking on your clit until you cum just from that, hands kneading into your plush flesh of your waist, stomach, or thighs.

Calls you princess as he has you on your hands and knees, his chest pressed up against your back. His thumb rubbing circles on your sensitive, throbbing clit. If you try to grind on his hand, he'll give your bare cunt a rough slap that makes you squirm and cry out.

Loves to see you struggle to keep your moans to yourself and keep yourself together. Thighs trembling and beads of sweat forming along your forehead as his fingers are slamming in and out of your pussy, curling up against your sweet spot.

Likes it when you sit on his face, suffocating him with your plush thighs and gushing pussy. He'll sometimes hump the air, feeling himself grow harder inside of his boxers. He'll sometimes reach into his pants and stroke himself if he's really needy.

Has his nose nudging against your clit every once in a while, chuckling at how sensitive you are.

Won't let you cum until you beg and he finally says yes. He wears a cocky, evil smile on his face as you're squirming, trying to hold off on cumming.

Once you're allowed to, you quite literally squirt all over this man's face, fingers, lips, etc. Geto doesn't really like to mess all over the bed, he'd rather you cum on his face or fingers.

He just loves the taste of you...

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teyamsatan · 11 months

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𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕀𝕀: 𝕀 𝔸𝕞 𝕃𝕠𝕤𝕥, 𝔹𝕦𝕥 ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕀𝕟 𝕐𝕠𝕦

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: in order to fulfil your revenge plans on Neteyam, you have to give up a lot of your life, including a future with a man who loves you dearly.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (@lanasblood trying to be better about this), smut (fingering, orgasm denial), strong language, neteyam and reader being horrible to each other lol

wc: 6.5k words

a/n: things are starting to get spicy besties 😌 i have to admit, although i am a lot more comfortable with friends-to-lovers, or more angsty tropes, i adore writing the sexual tension that comes with e2l and i hope i did it justice and you enjoy this chapter. i can't wait to hear your thoughts, bbs and thank you again for all the love and support on this series xx (thank you very much also to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art ily bestie x)

this is only half proof-read, so if you see any mistakes no you don't

na'vi compendium: yawne - beloved, Tsakarem - Tsa'hik in training, tìlor - beauty, txepvi - spark

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

In a perfect world, I'd kill to love you the loudest But all I do is live to hurt you soundless Say you see I'm lying, babe, and let this go I can never promise you tomorrow

The departing footsteps echoed through the forest as O'ì'en left you all alone, with a broken heart and the man that broke it, and the feeling left you empty, the hurt of what transpired, of what he did, what you did, how with each passing blow to each other’s lives, this was no longer just a petty rivalry but felt like so much more, like too much more. You threatened him, you spit all sorts of petty warnings about hell and burning - and in the heat of the moment, that sounded cool, and doable. Not anymore, as you stood motionless in the clearing and realised that Neteyam still had so much power over you, that his grasp on your life and on your heart was so tight, tighter than anyone else’s, tight enough to bruise and crush it with a tug of his fisted fingers. You removed yourself from his grasp like his touch burned you, which it felt like it did, and put distance in between your bodies, so that you could see him, so that you could clear your mind, so that his presence wouldn’t have the effect on you it always did, that you were sure was just your body recoiling in hatred, that always manifested itself in goosebumps and shivers down your spine.

“You’re such a fucking asshole.” The tears stung as you willed them back into your tear ducts. It’s been 7 years since Neteyam has seen you cry, and you’ll be damned if that would ever change, and especially right now, as you watched the smirk grow with every departing step, with every erratic blink of your eyes, as you tried to stop them from falling down your face, as he knew he got to you, that he made you pay for the words you uttered to him before.

“Oh, yawne. One day you’ll learn to not punch above your weight, and I guess since no one else is willing to, it falls onto me to teach you.” He walks slow, purposeful steps as he nears you once more, and his eyes boring into you, filled with intensity and a feeling you couldn’t quite place, that didn’t quite match the arrogance staining his lips like poison, stilled you in your spot, until he was so close, you could feel his warm breath and musky scent, until your heart boomed painfully in your chest, echoing loudly in your ears, marginally drowning out his next words.

“Did you really think you could threaten me and everything I’ve worked for, my relationship and the rest of my life, without any repercussions, huh? Did you really think I would go down without a fight?”

His hand raised and reached to push some unruly strands of hair out of your face, and you couldn’t look away from the soft glimmer in his eyes, that was so at odds with the rest of his face, you wondered if he even knew it was there. You wondered if he knew what it signified, because you didn’t. And despite your best efforts otherwise, you couldn’t deny the curiosity that deluged you, to try and find out.

The hint in his molten golden orbs dissipated as quickly as it appeared, and so did any middling emotion that tried you, as you once more found yourself reaching for your knife and unsheathing it, holding it in between both your hands, aiming for a shoulder… or a neck, and with a feral growl, you pushed your entire forced into the blow, and yelped in pain as one of his hands wrapped around both your wrists and twisted until the knife dropped pitifully on the ground with a loud clink. Tears threatened you once more at how futile the effort had been, how easy for him to overpower you like you were nothing more than a child, or a doll. He pinned your hands above your head and pushed you until your back collided with the bark of a tree and you felt the wind getting knocked out of your lungs at the contact.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk… why must you always resort to violence… yawne?” Your eyes widened as the hand that wasn’t holding you ghosted over your cheeks, tracing the air right above your lips with his thumb, and you were struggling, yet again, with the feelings that were plaguing you, that made burning appear everywhere his fingers were, burning the travelled down your body until they reached your core, that throbbed and clenched, that desperately asked you for something you would never, ever give it. After exploring your face, and tracing your jaw, his fingers finally settled on your chin, pushing it gently until your face angled upwards to meet his and no further breath could inch its way down your airways at the sight of him, at the way he looked at you, at the way it made you feel.

“You told me that you won’t mind burning in Hell as long as I burn with you. Well…” he broke eye contact to look around him at the forest surrounding you both. “Do you hear that, yawne? Fire is catching. And looks like we’re going to get to burn together after all.”

“Let me go. I told you what would happen if you ever touched me again.” His smirk never faltered, but only deepened as his eyes trailed over your body, settling on your lower abdomen.

“Mmm, yawne. I’m not sure you mean that.” It was your turn to reciprocate his guise, no ounce of shame or hesitation on your face.

“Let me go and you’ll find out whether I mean it or not.” his eyes widened, if only for a split second, and you felt like you imagined his grip on you loosening, or the fleeting sight of goosebumps peppered on his chest and neck, where your warm breath touched him.

“Are you really going to miss your chance to find lover boy and apologise like the good girl you like people to think you are?”

Your eyes lost momentary focus as he spoke. His words, although as cruel as usual, made guilt peak its ugly head over the thin-veiled curtain it was hiding behind, and you knew he was right. This was irrelevant. This whole fandangle of aggression and snarky remarks you always engaged in was not what should be occupying your brain, it wasn’t what mattered. O'ì'en mattered. Fixing Neteyam’s damage… and your own - that’s the only thing that mattered right now.

“Funny how quickly you seem to have forgotten about the one you supposedly love so much when I have your hands pinned above your head, isn’t it… yawne.”

His hands trailed over your arm as if on accident as he let you go and you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at his words, at his effect on you, at how hard you were fighting your own body and mind as they were struggling to regain composure from his touch, and his voice, and his presence.

Hate. That’s all it was. It consumed you, and you wish it didn’t, but at the end of the day, it was still just harmless, bona fide, unadulterated hate. You ignored the way your cheeks caught fire and burned beneath your skin as you ran towards the village, towards where you assumed O’i’en was headed, without sparing your biggest, your only enemy a second glance.

'Cause I have yet to learn how not to be his This city will surely burn if we keep this as it is

You spent hours searching for him, but despite trying every place you knew he liked to frequent, all efforts proved futile. You knew he wouldn’t want to be found, but still, you held a glimmer of hope in your heart that at least subconsciously, he’d want you to find him, to allow him to explain what was mostly inexplainable and inexcusable - you couldn’t blame him for proving you wrong.

Eventually, as eclipse was nearing with each passing moment, defeated and regretful, you went to the nearby river, that was almost deserted due to the approaching evening, that you hoped would bring you some answers, or some solace… some strength. What were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to listen to Eywa, and your own heart telling you to go for this mateship that you knew was wrong, but felt drawn towards, for your own twisted, sadistic reasons? Or should you listen to your mind who told you to fight for what you knew would be a comfortable, healthy future, one that didn’t particularly enthral you, but hoped you could aspire to and embrace in time, with the insight that came with getting older? As always, the war between your mind and heart led to a painful impasse where both of them were bloodied and injured, but no discernible winners were left to claim victory on the choice, or on all the questions that plagued you.

You recognised Jake’s steps and his scent as he approached you, and you sighed. You were not in the mood for a lecture. Sure enough, he sat next to you, looking at the waterfall falling violently into the otherwise peaceful river, that rippled and bruised at the contact. It was funny to you now, sitting here, how that was a perfect metaphor for your relationship with Neteyam, how in his presence, you were just a river, and he was a force of nature, there to disturb and perturb, there to change you, so aggressive and formidable, and so strangely necessary. You were sad at how much his presence in your life mattered, how you knew that despite all the hurt and the pain, you owed him so much of who you were, so much of where you were. Because he pushed you every day, to be better, to strive for more, to want to be more like him in some ways, less like him in others - a better daughter, a better friend, a better sibling, a better soldier, a better warrior, a better clan member.

“Hey, kid. What are you doing here, eclipse will be upon us soon. You know the rules.”

“I know the rules, Jake. And with all due respect, right now, I really couldn’t care less about them.”

You turned to him and noted his expression melting from one of annoyance, raised eyebrow and an open mouth, ready to chastise you for your insubordination and recalcitrance, into a soft and pitying one, as he took in your tear-stained face and trembling lips. You never cried, not in front of anyone who mattered, so the fact that here you stood, so obviously distressed, concerned Jake more than he could say out loud.

“What’s wrong, baby girl? What happened?”

“I… I need to find O'ì'en… I’ve been looking for hours, but I can’t find him. Have you seen him anywhere?” Your sniffles and a hoarse, broken voice were more than enough to bring a grimace to the Olo’eyktan’s face.

“Oh, honey…” his arms circled your much smaller body and he squeezed, the much needed hug warm and very welcome. Your hand tightened around his forearm, and you started sobbing silently as he held you. You’ve always been immensely grateful for the Sullys and their patriarch, but especially so in moments like this, when his paternal instincts kicked in, a role he was much better at than he ever gave himself credit for.

“I ruined it… I ruined everything. I should have told him, I should have been honest with him. I should have come to you and asked you to free me of this responsibility that I never wanted to shoulder in the first place.”

“You can still ask, kid. We would never force you into something you genuinely aren’t comfortable with, and you should know that. In fact, you do know that. But you didn’t come. Why?”

You had no answer to that, because truthfully, you didn’t know. Getting revenge on Neteyam wasn’t a good enough answer, and more and more, you realised that - and you knew Jake would challenge you on it as soon as the words came out of your mouth. Getting revenge isn’t a good enough reason to sacrifice your own happiness, and liberty, your future as a warrior and your future with the man you wanted to want so badly. It wasn’t a good enough reason because it wasn’t the reason - not the only reason, not the full reason, but that was something you couldn't think about, you couldn't even fathom, not yet, so you didn't.

At your lack of response, Jake sighed and looked contemplatively at the river being perturbed by the waterfall crashing on it, at the way the water rippled and undulated, at the way the bioluminescent glow of the underwater plankton, that was visible now that eclipse settled over the land, warped under its force.

“Did I ever tell you I had this girlfriend back on Earth? This was when I was young, about your age.” You shook your head softly, not looking at him, still focused and mesmerised by the same view he was studying.

“She was amazing. So kind, and sweet, and beautiful… and good. Too good for me. And I loved her. She was the first girl I looked at and thought that maybe, just maybe, she would be the one. I used to pick her up after her classes were over and we would just drive in my car, just down the coast, in Anaheim at sundown, and I remember feeling so happy, thinking that I would feel this way the rest of my life.”

You thought about that, and about your boyfriend, who very much seemed like what Jake was describing, who brought you comfort and safety. You thought about walking with him in this place Jake called Anaheim, in a heavenly place away from hurt and pain, away from mistakes and fears, just two people who loved each other, who wanted to spend the rest of their lives together. You felt grief envelop you when the face that appeared in your visions wasn’t the one you wanted to see, the one you hoped you’d see, the one you needed to see. You hated your brain and your heart for not allowing you to commit to him the way you knew you should, in the way that would ensure you a future of happiness and peace, a love worth harbouring, a pure and kind love, just like the one Jake described.

“What happened? Between… you and her, I mean?” Jake shrugged, a small, content smile on his face.

“It just didn’t work out. I joined the military, she continued her studies. We would have never worked. I wasn’t good enough for her, and she deserved someone who could love her the way she was meant be loved. Anaheim is still a beautiful memory to me, and I’ll always cherish it, but it made way for something much, much better. For both of us.

I think sometimes we hold on to things we think we need, we want to want, but these things pertain to a version of ourselves that isn’t fully authentic. I think it’s easy to pretend when we’re with certain people that life is one way, that we could fit in it, in this world we’ve created in our heads, in the world that they inspire, but the sooner we accept the realities of our circumstances, of who we are and where we truly belong, the more time we have to enjoy life for how it’s meant to be lived: fully, wildly, being wholly ourselves.”

He stood up and headed back towards the village, not before giving you an affectionate pat on the head and a squeeze of your shoulders. His last words echoed in your ears long after he departed, leaving you with so much to think about, and so much pain at knowing he was right, and that soon, you’d have to break a heart and learn to mend your own.

“You can still ask, kid. I just think, deep down, Anaheim isn’t for you… just like it wasn’t for me.”

But I'd give anything to stop time And drive around Anaheim at sun down And teach my mind to put you first

It took the whole night, but you eventually found him, after a painful conversation with his mother, at a different river he used to love coming to as a little kid with his father, one much further away from the village. He was sitting on the river bank, lost in thought, his feet dangling mindlessly in the water that rushed downstream, agitated and tumultuous, much like your mind. You sighed deeply, trying your hardest to build up the courage for the most difficult conversation you’ve ever had, one in which you knew the end result was a broken heart, one that you caused, that you never meant to, that you would never want. You knew what it was like to be broken-hearted, sad and unmoored from the reality you’ve built up in your mind, from your hopes and dreams, from the future you were promised and now will never have again. But after the conversation with Jake, you knew it was the right thing to do. You loved O'ì'en, you truly did, just not enough to ever give him everything he needed and deserved, not for the rest of your life. You had darkness in you he would never be skilled enough to wander through, to bring light into, and you would never want him to try, not when it would dim his own light, that deserved to be nourished and heightened by someone, who much like him, was good and pure, and better than you’d ever be.

“O'ì'en…”

He wasn’t startled by your presence. His gaze didn’t shift from where it was intently fixed, and you knew you shouldn’t expect that it did. You wouldn’t want to look at yourself, either.

“You know, I watched for so long the interactions between you and Neteyam, and they always made me sad and uncomfortable. The hatred that I could not understand, that seemed to occupy so much of your time and space in both your minds, that consumed you both. I watched it, and I wanted to say something, but I never thought it was my place. It hurt me, seeing you suffer at his hands, and hurt me that you always reciprocated, that you never took the high road, that you always felt the need to one-up him, to give as good as you got. It was so toxic and unhealthy, and I hoped in time, you’d move away from it. I hoped I could help you. But now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to, not anymore. And I don’t know if I want to.”

Tears rolled down your face with every word uttered, with every sentence that cut deeper and deeper in you, until you were bleeding and bruised, until it all hurt, being here, seeing him, hearing him, the past and the future, the present and your actions, and Neteyam’s actions, and everything that lead to this moment. It was so much easier to get your heart broken, you realise faintly, than to break a heart. Heartbroken, you could pity yourself, victimise yourself, tell yourself and the world that it’s not you, but the other person, the one who instigated it. You can sleep at night knowing you were wronged, that if it wasn’t for the pain that someone else caused you, things would be different, easier. There was nothing easy about watching a good person suffer and knowing you caused it, and you wondered how you were ever going to fall asleep again, how were you going to be able to live with yourself.

“I didn’t choose this, O'ì'en… any of this. I need you to know this. Mo’at asked us to come to her as a matter of urgency the other day, she told us that Eywa gave her a sign, showed her a vision, and that by her will, Neteyam and I will have to become a mated-pair.” You felt bad about leaving out certain… extenuating circumstances, but you realise that sometimes, certain things are better left unsaid and once some words are uttered, some actions taken, they can’t be recalled, they can’t be reversed, they won’t dematerialise - their echoes will forever ring through time, leaving damage and hurt in their wake, and you didn’t want that - not for him.

“Have you told her you don’t want to? Have you gone to the Tsa’hik, or the Olo’eyktan, or the Tsakarem and talked to them, told them you are in love with someone else, that you made up your mind? Did you fight for us at any point? For me?”

Your eyes widened at his words, that had an edge to them you’ve never observed in him before, that you didn’t even realise he was truly capable of. The words stung needles on your skin and in your eyes, that had prickling tears still falling uninterrupted, like summer rain, soaking your heart and soul that hurt because you knew that you couldn’t give him an answer that would satisfy him… you couldn’t give him an answer at all.

“They look at you like you’re their daughter. They would listen to you if you asked. But you didn’t, did you?”

“I once overheard Lo’ak talk about you and Neteyam to his human friend. He was concerned about you. About both of you. But aside from that, he talked about you two like you were an inevitability. About passion that ran so deep there was no way only hatred fuelled it. That there must be something underneath it all. I heard this and it made me angry at the time… I thought that he was unreasonable and out of line. Naively, I took your affection at face value and never looked beyond. Until now, that is. When I realised that in our time together, all the time we shared, all the moments that were sweet and innocent and everything I’ve ever wanted, you’ve never once shared even a fraction of that passion for me.”

“O'ì'en, no…”

“I think, deep down, you don’t want to get out of this because it’s finally a way to bridge the gap that has existed between you and Neteyam for so long, a gap you secretly wished had never existed. I think you’ve been in love with him since you were children, and this was the perfect opportunity to change a path you thought was set in stone before. I think he’s in love with you, too. But both of you are too mean, too stubborn with each other to see past your differences. To talk.”

“You’re wrong.” The temper was rising in your chest as his head continued shaking, denying your statement, as his words were processing in your mind, the unbelievable, insane, unreasonable words that you couldn’t believe were being uttered right before you, not by him. You wanted to scream at him, to shout and tell him that it’s all wrong, all of this, everything is all wrong. That the passion he’s talking about is just intense dislike that was so grand, so overpowering, it couldn’t be contained inside your body, nor inside his. That you were not in love with Neteyam - you hated Neteyam. With every fibre of your being, you loathed the man that hurt you so deeply, so intimately, for so long, that forsook the past you shared and the memories you made and what you meant to him, or what he meant to you.

You wanted to tell him that he’s delusional in ever thinking that man could ever be in love with you, when all he did was find new ways to torture you, to belittle you, to make you feel lesser than him, lesser than anyone he knew. How could that ever be love? How could that ever work? This was love. What you had with O'ì'en. Pure and good and kind and easy. Love wasn’t supposed to hurt, right? Love was supposed to feel natural, like coming home after a long, exhausting day, it wasn’t supposed to be what made the day long and exhausting in the first place. He was so wrong.

But you didn’t find it in you to argue with him. Not with him. Someone else will have to bear the consequences of your repressed anger, but not O'ì'en, because he deserves better than what he got, and what you gave, and in truth.. none of this mattered anyway. Arguing would make no difference in this doomed relationship, so you calmed yourself for the time being and spoke in as even of a tone you could manage.

“O'ì'en… I think you’re wrong. But, it doesn’t matter. You’re right that I didn’t talk to Mo’at, and that I should have. Regardless of the circumstances that led to this, I am so sorry. I will forever be sorry for the way you found out, for the way this came to be. I’m so sorry you had to be collateral damage in a war that is only mine to bear. I had a whole plan about how to tell you, I had so many things I wanted to say to you. That I’m grateful to you, and that I love you. That I’m sorry it wasn’t the way that you deserve to be loved, but I do love you. That I will never forget you, and your affection that shone so brightly over me, that was a safe haven from the bad storms I’ve had to weather for so long. That I’ll be sorry every day that I wasn’t good enough for you, but am relieved by the notion that one day, you’ll find someone so much better than me, someone who will be able to give you everything you deserve and then some, and I’m relieved in knowing you will be thankful to have been rid of me.”

You decided this would have to be enough for now. One day, maybe you’ll be able to face him again. One day, maybe he’ll even be able to spare you a glance, or a smile. But not today.

“I hope you forgive me one day.”

“Me, too.”

But I'd give anything to stop time, commit to you and not crimes Against your truth and lose sight of every divide threatening to undo this story But baby, I'm so sorry, I don't think that I'll ever memorise this route

It was a long way back to the village, and with every step taken and every moment passed, the anger that you tried to stifle for his sake came back ten fold - the tiring days of fighting, of crying, of suffering, of uncertainty and rampant emotions all building up within you, all coming to a calamitous zenith that threatened to spill all around you, that begged and urged for revenge, for payback on the man that caused it all, the man that was at the centre of all your life’s woes.

He ruined your relationship? Well… let’s see how he’ll like a taste of his own medicine. You knew exactly where you’ll find him, because you knew he’d be in the place he knew he could pester you the most, in a place that’s supposed to be yours, that he tainted over and over, that you will make sure to conquer back from him, the way you eventually would all of the pieces of yourselves he’s taken from you through time.

Your tent was quiet and untouched, unlike the little nook behind it, that was completely segregated from the rest of the clan, an oasis of secrecy and privacy in an otherwise bustling environment. A place that should be yours alone, but now hid two Na’vi, one of them mewling softly at the actions of the other. Neteyam was focused on his mate’s neck, their make-out session so intense, they didn’t even notice you until it was too late, until you stood behind them, until your presence was announced by a deep sigh and a disappointed click of your tongue.

“Oh, how disappointing.”

The girl let out a distressed yelp at your voice and pushed Neteyam off of her, eliciting a deep growl from the man that was less than impressed by the interruption.

“Am I interrupting?”

You saw Neteyam’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of you, at the way he knew what was coming. You laughed at his expression. What did he think was going to happen after what he’s done? What did he think you were going to do finding them here? The evil smirk that possessed you reminded you of his, and you wondered if this is how panicked you looked, too, when you saw him approaching you and O'ì'en.

“You know, if you’re going to continue going against the Olo’eyktan and the Tsa’hik’s wishes and cheat on your mate, I wouldn’t do it… you know, right outside of her tent.”

“WHAT?!” The high-pitched screech nearly deafened you, but you didn’t let it show. Instead you just watched as Neteyam scrambled to get himself out of the eye of the storm threatening to tear him apart.

“Tìlor, I -“

“Ah, your boyfriend didn’t tell you?” Your smile was sickeningly sweet as you approached the couple, stopping right next to Neteyam, placing a hand on his arm, tracing the protruding veins that made saliva pool in your mouth, and you bit back a laugh at the girl’s rabid look, that looked a lot like she was going to pounce on you at any given moment - you hoped she did. Nothing would make you happier than to have an excuse to rearrange her braids. This girl that always looked down on you, that looked at you like you were an outsider or a freak, that never even tried to mask her jealousy, her disdain, her fear at the fact the Sullys preferred you, and always will.

“I will be your Tsa’hik soon. Isn’t that right… yawne?”

“So unless you want me to go and tell the clan leaders… and your mother… and your father, and everyone who matters that you’ve been fucking someone else’s mate and watch as little by little, your entire world falls apart around you, I suggest you realise this man right here, he’s not worth it. Not worth all the drama, not worth all the fuss. Just go, and find yourself a single mate, and give thanks to Eywa she’s rid you of him, cause damn, I know I wish I could be.”

The hatred in her eyes was slowly replaced with fear and embarrassment, and for a second, just a second - you felt bad for her. Because no matter how badly she’s treated you, how she’s adopted Neteyam’s behaviour as her own with no reason or rhyme, much like O'ì'en, she was also just another collateral victim in a war that kept claiming lives and hearts, and you wondered where, if at all, the line would be drawn, when, if ever, would enough be enough?

You watched as she scrambled to fasten her top around her neck properly and without another word, she was gone, leaving just you and Neteyam alone, with enough tension in the air around you to suffocate you, to feel like smoke from a fire so grand, you didn't know if weren’t skilled enough to put out.

'Cause I have yet to know how to be mine You can try to unearth this soul I swear you'll hate what you find

“Why?”

“You’re making out with someone behind my tent, knowing that would piss me off, after what you did yesterday, and you have the nerve to ask me why?” you threw your head back and laughed at the outrageousness of the question. Neteyam wasn’t stupid - far from it. He was also not naive, or oblivious, or harebrained. The question had no business coming out of his mouth, but yet it did. You didn't have time to ponder the reasons why.

“You see, Neteyam, I think you came here because you knew I’d come. Because you secretly wanted me to. Because you know deep down that this girl has nothing to offer you, and you just needed an easy way out to rid yourself of her, and you needed me to do your dirty work for you again. Well, you’re welcome, Neteyam. What the fuck would you ever do without me, huh?”

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite. All the theatricals of being heartbroken over what I did to O'ì'en and then you do the exact same thing to someone else, someone innocent.”

“Innocent, ha! You think I give a shit about your little girlfriend’s feelings, when you treated O'ì'en the way you did? He didn’t deserve this, Neteyam. Any of this. He’s good man, he respects you, and looks up to you. He -“

“He should have known better than to associate himself with you.” His bared fangs didn’t do as much to scare you, not nearly as much as his proximity to you did, at the way his eyes stared daggers at your face, that even in the heat of the moment, at the peak of anger and hatred, couldn’t help settle on your parted, wet lips. “He should have known better and realise that all you bring in people’s life is disappointment and pain. He also should have known better and realise you didn’t love him. That you never will. That you might try to act like it and convince yourself, but someone like him would never, ever satisfy you.”

“And who the fuck would satisfy me, Neteyam? You? That’s rich. I bet your poor little girlfriend’s happy she’s rid of you. Bet you haven’t made her cum once. Too busy thinking of training and ruining my life, too busy thinking about how great you think you are to make room for anyone else in there.” You poked him in the chest with your index finger, right over his heart. Your touch lingered on his body, somehow unable to bring yourself to stop, half in awe at the way his heart was racing, at the way yours beat almost in sync with his, at the way you tried to convince yourself it’s because of the anger you were feeling, and no other reason.

“Yeah? Is that what you think?”

And there he was again, once more grabbing you by your throat, and you wanted to object, and fight him, but you didn’t - you couldn’t -, not as you felt throbbing deep within you at the action, not as you had to push your thighs together to accommodate for the increasingly uncomfortable sensation, not as your loincloth was becoming more and more damp by the second. And you remember your words, and remember that you told him that if he ever touched you again, you’ll make him pay for it, but right now, in this moment, you couldn’t find it in you to speak a word, as the intensity of his gaze knocked the air out of your lungs and his fingers squeezed just enough so no more could get back in you. Your back scratched painfully against a tree as he pushed you into it, and you couldn’t help a small moan as his other hand pushed your loincloth to the side, brushing over your folds that were now sopping and swollen. He let out a soft chuckle as he felt you.

“If that’s what you really thought, you wouldn’t be dripping on my fingers right now, tsxepvi.”

Slowly, deliberately, he started exploring your heat, thumb ghosting over your clit as he watched you squirm under his touch, struggling between what you knew you should do, between your conscious mind telling you you were going to pay for this in tears and heartache, and your subconscious mind screaming to let go, to embrace the overbearing desire to give in to him, as you did in the dreams you convinced yourself in time were nightmares, but knew more and more each day that it was just another lie you told yourself to keep going.

One side of you won by a landslide, as he gently pushed two fingers in you, as he started increasing the pressure with which he was massaging your clit, and it felt so good, too good, better than anything you’ve ever felt before. You tried to contain the sounds coming through gritted teeth with all your might, knowing what he was doing, knowing giving him any indication of the pleasure he was giving you would mean another thing you’d have to pay for later, knowing you couldn’t allow him to enjoy this, you couldn’t possibly give him the satisfaction of knowing he could do this to you, but you couldn’t stop, not when his fingers curled in you and found the spongy part that made you see glimmering, blinding lights and his thumb circled your needy bud in the perfect way to heighten the sensations running through you, electrifying your every nerve. The moans turn into mewls as he increases the pressure and his pace, and you felt the pleasure in you reach a high that you were ready to ride out, your orgasm so close you could practically taste it, and you’re barely able to think about how fucking quick it was, how it took no time at all for him to get you there, how skilled his fingers, as they worked his ministrations on you. You had no will to think about what the fuck was happening, how weird it was, how the man you’ve hated for so long is doing this to you, before the feeling got too overwhelming to be contained anymore.

“Fuck, i’m gonna -“

“That’s right, tsxepvi. I can feel you squeezing my fingers. You want to come for me?”

“Argh, I-“

The moan you let you wasn’t of pleasure, it was of deep, throbbing pain as the emptiness overtook you, as soon as he removed his fingers.

He smirked, an evil smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, as his fingers found his lips and he sucked on them, his tongue swirling in between them, licking every single drop.

“You taste fucking amazing, tsxepvi. Maybe next time, if you apologise and behave, you’ll actually get to cum.”

And with that, he was gone, living you an empty, horrified mess, as the high came crashing down violently and the consequences of the last few minutes replaced it to lead you in a spiral of mixed thoughts and feelings, each one more terrifying than the last.

'Cause I am lost, but not in you Yes, I am lost, but not in you

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak @sweetbread-m @eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog

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lesbianpepsi · 10 months

Text

is this love?

pairing: Vada Cavell x fem!reader

summary: reader goes on Vada's laptop and finds something very interesting on it

words: 2.204k

warnings: mentions of sex, light swearing, bad writing, let me know if there's anything else

authors note: this is my first time writing for Vada so if she seems OOC i'm sorry💀

vada (1:31am) wher r u?

me (1:33am): at home...?

vada (1:33am): cum over 2 watch a movie 🙃🙃

vada (1:33am): come* lol

vada (1:33am): cum 👉👌

me (1:34am): hilarious. why do you want me over vads?

vada (1:36am): bord and snakish

me (1:36am): it's half one in the morning

vada (1:36am): pls:( not evn for ur wife???💔

me (1:38am): what snacks do you want me to bring?

vada (1:38am): :D

vada (1:38am): takis, that choalet u like, waterlemon siur patch kid

me (1:39am): okay, i'll be over in a few

vada (1:39am): tyty

me (1:39am): 🙄🖤

vada (1:40am): 🤭🤭

You shook your head in amusement as you shoved your foot into your vans, soon after shoving your phone into the baggy hoodie you owned.

Of course only for Vada -your girlfriend- you'd sneak out in the middle of the night to bring snacks and to watch movies.

The chokehold that girl had on you was beyond tight.

Grabbing your headphones, backpack, wallet and phone you silently sneaked your way down the stairs, you took painfully slow steps to make sure you wouldn't make a sound.

After what felt like an eternity you had made it outside with the key to the garage, you quickly went to unlock it and retrieved your broken blue bike. It was barley rideable, but still good enough for you.

You locked the garage, keeping the keys in your pocket before you began biking away towards the closest 7/11.

The headphones placed on your ears filled the silence of the night with the sweet melody of Lana Del Rey.

After a handful of songs and halfway through White Mustang you arrived at the small store, it being the only twenty four hour store that was closest to yours and Vada's house.

You hopped off your bike before you entered, you had already memorised what Vada wanted. It didn't take you long before you were at the counters paying for the snacks, trying not to laugh at the clearly high worker who tried to act sober.

"Thanks." The worker gave a lazy thumbs up as he cracked an even lazier smile, you chuckled as you shoved your purchases into your backpack.

You sat back down on your bike as you checked on your phone to see three unread messages by Vada.

vada (1:43am): pls ride save 🚲🚲🚲🥽🥽🛟

vada (1:57am): jez what's takis so long?

vada (1:57am): 🪚

me (1:59am): 1) i will, don't worry❤️ 2) i have to ride to the store then to yours, plus my bike is shit. 3) no we're not watching saw, last time you watched it you got nightmares

vada (1:59am): ur alive!!!🧟‍♀️🚫

vada (2:00am): hury up

You laughed to yourself as you kept your phone back into its original position, peddling away before you took your hand out of your pocket.

Lana Del Rey's mystical voice sung a few more songs in your ears before you arrived outside of the Cavell residence.

You swiftly got off of the bike before you walked it up the pathway to keep leaning it against the wall.

Opening the gate you silently walked over to the back door to where Vada was already waiting for you, smiling brightly when she noticed your presence.

"Y/n! Hi!" She whispered yelled as she grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a hug. You smiled down at her as you wrapped your arms around her.

"Hey, Vads." You replied with a warm smile as butterflies flew around in your stomach at the contact.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before Vada gazed up at you and stole a kiss from you before she headed towards the cabinets.

You took the moment for freedom to take off your shoes, placing them neatly in the corner of the room.

Vada went on her tippy toes as she reached two glasses from a cabinet, dropping them a bit too carelessly making you wince.

"Wanna do me a favour?" Vada asked as she grinned at you, hopping over to the alcohol cabinet as she took out a bottle of vodka.

You raised your eyebrows as you leaned against the counter. "Depends what that is."

"Go on my laptop and choose a movie for us to watch while I make us our drinks." She said as she shook the bottle of vodka daringly in her hands.

You laughed as you nodded your head, pushing yourself off the counter. "You already know what I'm going to put on."

"We are not watching Spider-Man again. I beg you."

"Fine." You decided with a roll of your eyes, somewhat not surprised Vada didn't want to watch Spider-Man for probably the fifth time this week.

Without a noise you made your way up the stairs and towards Vada's dimly lit bedroom. You shrugged off your backpack as you dropped down on Vada's snuggliest bed.

Her laptop was already on her bed so you thankfully didn't have to get back up, stretching until you reached it and swiftly pulled the laptop onto your lap.

You opened the laptop and immediately winced at the brightness, of fucking course Vada would put her laptop at full brightness at night.

You hurriedly lowered the brightness until you could actually look at it.

That's when you noticed the laptop was making a noise.

The Sims theme played lowly, an audio that was instantly recognisable. You smiled as you noticed Vada was still in her world.

Deciding there was no harm in it, you began looking around the beautifully decorated house Vada had built.

It was a perfect house for the family Tara had made.

The first sim you noticed was a toddler, a boy with y/h/c coloured hair and a freckled face.

You smiled at how cute the sim was as your eyes flickered down to the corner of the screen where a small row of sims' faces was at.

Finding the toddler's face you hover the mouse over it to get the name of the sim.

Tod Y/l/n-Cavell

You blinked, then blinked again at the name.

Y/l/n-Cavell

No fucking way.

Without hesitation you swiftly moved the mouse to hover over the next sim, a teenage girl who had dark brown hair.

Delilah Y/l/n-Cavell

A smug smile had appeared on your lips as your eyes gazed over to the two final remain sims. Promptly you clicked onto the next sim this time, which teleported you over to where the sim was.

Your eyes widened as you noticed the name and what the sim was doing.

Y/n L/n-Cavell was the name given to the sim that you couldn't see since it was woohooing the last sim.

You purse your lips as you stifle a laugh, much slower than before you moved to hover the mouse over the final sim which heavily resembled Vada's face.

Not to your surprise, the name 'Vada Yl/n-Cavell' appeared as the mouse hovered over the sim.

Just as you read the name a frantic Vada flung the door open as she practically dived in your direction, slamming the laptop closed on your lap.

With Vada half on you, half not, your eyes travelled down to her face, where you couldn't see her beauty since she was hiding it on the mattress next to your thigh.

"Please tell me you didn't see a thing." She begged through a muffled voice, you closed your eyes for a few seconds as you tried to not let out a laugh.

Swallowing any hint of laughter you said: "I didn't see anything," A small snort of laughter escaped as you muttered. "Mrs Y/l/n-Cavell."

Vada groaned loudly as she hid her face further into the bed, throwing her hands over her head as she tried to hide herself even further.

"I think it's adorable!" You said as you managed to stifle most of the laughter, Vada violently shook her head. "You're just saying that."

"No I'm not." Vada lifted her head as she gave you an unamused expression. "You're laughing."

"I'm not." You told her with a serious expression, the corners of your lift kept lifting as you fought a smile. "I just didn't expect to see a sim version of myself fucking a sim version of you." You managed to get halfway through the sentence before you let out a deep laugh, instantly covering your mouth with your hand to try to hide it.

Vada groaned as she slammed her head back down to hide in the duvet. "I'm never showing you my face ever again." Vada declared to you, you smiled as you positioned your hand on top of Vada's hand.

"And how exactly are you planning to never show your face to me again?" You taunted her with a grin.

"I'll just wear a mask everywhere like that weird Minecraft streamer." Vada exaggerated through a muffled voice as you tried hiding your laughter.

You shook your head mostly to yourself to try to stop laughing as you looked down at Vada.

"And deprive me of that pretty face of yours?" Vada nodded her head, her head still hid in the sheets. "Yes. You better start getting ready to bang me with a mask on for the rest of your life."

"Is it at least a ghostface mask?"

Vada stayed silent for a few moments, as if the words you said had actually gotten to her, before she shook her head.

"No! Making me horny won't make me forget about this."

You mentally reminded yourself to carry on that conversation another time with Vada.

"Vada, I promise you, it's not that bad. It's actually cute as shit." You insisted with no laughter that time, Vada slowly picked up her head to look up at you.

Her eyes narrowed on yours as she leaned against your thigh. "You're not bullshitting me?"

You smiled as you nodded your head enthusiastically at your girlfriend. "I'd never lie to you."

"It's still embarrassing." Vada whined as she snuggled further into your clothed thigh. You laughed lowly as you removed the laptop off of your lap, placing it onto the empty space next to you.

"The most embarrassing thing about it is that you actually think I'd let you name our child Tod." You jested with a humorous grin.

Honestly, you didn't know what was going through Vada's choosing the name Tod. You'd rather name your child Howard, a name you more than less hate.

Vada gave you a hurt look as she perched up on your thigh to be able to get a better look of you.

"Tod is a magnificent name. You'd probably name our child something nerdy like Peter." Your smile shifted to give Vada a dirty look at her words. Just because I love Spider-Man, you thought to yourself with a groan.

"There's nothing wrong with the name Peter, meanwhile there's everything wrong with the name Tod." You argued light-heartedly, the corners of Vada's lips twitched upwards, she was trying to fight her smile.

Pride withered in you at that, Vada was starting to feel less embarrassed at the whole situation.

Raising her eyebrows she gazed into your eyes. "Fine. We'll just have to name our child something absolutely ridiculous then."

You smiled amusedly as you nodded your head as if heavily interested in the conversation. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

Vada pursed her lips for a few moments as she glanced away from your eyes, deep in thought. As if she had figured out a top secret code, Vada returned her eyes to lock with yours, joy swirling around in her eyes.

"Donut." Vada assured with a nod of her head. You stifled a laugh as you cocked your head to the side like a husky. "Donut?" You repeated in a teasing tone.

She nodded her head confidently. "Donut; the second love of my life." Vada confirmed with a goofy grin on her face.

You smirked, your free hand moving to rest on Vada's scalp as you played with her soft hair. "Who's your first love then?"

"C'mon you already know the answer to that. It's obviously Bela Dimitrescu." Without hesitation you shoved Vada's head down with the hand that was on her head.

Vada laughed as she dodged your hand as she moved it so the side, landing her head back down on the top of your thigh. "Don't worry, baby. You'll always be my number one girl."

You narrowed your eyes. "Even over Bela?"

She nodded curtly against your thigh. "Even over Bela Dimitrescu."

"What about Lady Dimitrescu?"

Vada hissed as she closed her eyes momentarily before reopening them. "That's a tough one."

You sighed as you nodded your head in agreement. "Alright I'll give you that since she is so fine."

"So fucking fine." Vada whispered in agreement.

You smiled at Vada who beamed back at you with joy, a true sight for the sore eyes.

"How about instead of watching a movie we play sims?" Vada grinned as she sat up, grabbing the laptop as she sat by your side.

"I'm pretty sure my sim just impregnated yours so we can name our third child donut." Vada giggled as she opened the laptop back up.

You gave her a puzzled look. Vada's sim impregnated yours?

Why the fuck aren't you the one who had a dick?

"Why do I have to be the pregnant one?" You questioned as Vada began replaying the game. "I give off bigger dick energy than you."

You scoffed loudly at that, rolling your eyes. "Yeah right."

#vada cavell x reader #vada cavell #vada x reader #jenna ortega x reader #the fallout #the fallout movie #vada cavell x you #vada cavell x y/n #fluff #my fanficiton #fanfic #my fan fic

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anundyingfidelity · 23 days

Note

congrats first of all!!!! second of all can we have some butcher smut Please for the girls ?

thank you sm sweetieee <33 of courseee, my first billy butcher request! i love him lol hope i did him justice for this one, he's a very complicated character in my opinion haha this is soft, angsty smut with butcher for the girls😩🩷

event guidelines ✮ event masterlist ✮

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

DON'T GO — Billy Butcher x female reader

Word count: 477.

Genre: soft, angsty smut.

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex.

The sound of his name, his real name, sweetly being pronounced with your voice was soothing and charming. For him, there wasn't any other than you who could have him swooning and dying for. He was addicted to all of you. To your moans, to your soft touch, how your nails would scratch his back as he fucked you slow and deep on your bed.

You bit back a loud whimper, his cock filling you up to the brim perfectly, focused on your pleasure rather than his own. Butcher wanted to see you squirm under him, to hear you cry his name once you came, so the only thing you had in mind was him.

And when he showed up that night at your door after months of no calls or visits, you cried. Then you slapped him in the face, and finally you hugged him tightly for disappearing so long. Butcher understood your reaction. He knew he deserved more than that, but yet here you were, with him hovering over your figure, spreading your legs, and kissing your lips to surpress your loud moans as he fucked you slow and passionate, like if you had all the time of the world to yourselves and give into each other.

"I love when you moan my name," he darkly mumbled against your neck, kissing and licking your skin, tasting the layer of sweat running down.

The contrast of his voice, his rough hands feeling every inch of your skin in the most delicate way would always get you amazed. Your hands moved to cup his cheeks and you pulled him for a wet kiss, rolling your tongue between his lips as he bucked his hips. You let out a moan against his mouth when one of his digits found your clit, rubbing you painfully slow.

"I fucking missed you," you gasped, breaking the kiss, feeling you were almost reaching that sweet high. "Oh, shit, I'm so close..."

"Fuck, I've missed you too, luv," he breathed out, giving you a particular hard thrust that forced another sweet sound from your throat.

He knew you were close. His raspy voice praised and encouraged you to let go. He wanted nothing more but to feel you cum around him. And when your walls clenched and your whole body began to tremble, he increased his own rhythm to get to heaven with you.

You sealed your love for him with a desperate kiss, not ever wanting to let go.

"Don't go like that again," you whispered.

Butcher caressed your cheek, taking in your beauty after the bliss of the reunion you had. He knew he had to leave again. That his world was too dangerous for you. But he was too much of a fool to admit it to you and break your heart, and instead he decided to lie.

"I won't."

#billy butcher x female reader #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x y/n #billy butcher smut #the boys amazon #the boys billy butcher #billy butcher imagines #400followerstag!

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offside-the-lines · 4 months

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Tie me down, your hands like butter | Matthew Tkachuk

Summary: Matthew thinks silk wrist ties are an exciting pre-team dinner appetizer. And now the boys know. SMUT: 18 + ONLY. MINORS DNI. SAFE SEX RESOURCE. a/n: I live in a world where Matty's hair is longer than it is because I love his curls. Don't @ me. This is my first smutty piece here. Happy new year lol. I also don't typically like to write reader inserts but thought I'd play around with it; and I won't use "y/n" so there's a gratuitous use of "baby". Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk x Female!Reader (Existing relationship) Words: 3K Warnings: Mild bondage (wrist ties), Under negotiated kink (photo exhibitionism), Fingering, Oral sex (fem receiving), PiV, Unprotected sex (wrap it up kiddos), Creampie; Some chirping at the team dinner where the boys know what just happened. Requests: Open | Masterlist

SMUT: 18 + ONLY. MINORS DNI. SAFE SEX RESOURCE.

You felt the cold air brushing over your nipples and tried to focus on steadying your breathing. You wiggled your hands and felt the soft silk tug on your wrists. You couldn’t help but squirm a little, pressing your thighs together. Even though you were comfortable, you felt incredibly exposed. And the anticipation was starting to drive you crazy.

Where the fuck is he, you thought.

And almost like he heard you, you saw your boyfriend stalk out of the closet. He had gotten undressed and was wearing just his boxers and his dress shirt, open so you could see a delicious sliver of chest and abs. Almost instinctually you moved to sit up, trying to reach out to run a hand down his smooth chest. But obviously, you felt the tug of the restraints again.

He smirked. “What are you doing, baby?” He lulled, steps slowing as he walked towards the bed.

The impatience getting to you, “For fuck’s sake Matthew, I know that this teasing is fun for you but come on! It’s killing me”

He threw his head back in a laugh. “Oh yeah? It’s killing you, is it now? Well, tell me, what is it you want?”

You let out a noise of frustration that only comes out as a guttural groan. He knew exactly what he was doing, and the glint of mischief in his eye confirmed it. “Oh come on, really?”

He giggled and started crawling onto the bed towards you, painfully slow. “Yes, really. I want to hear you say it.”

“Fuck you.” You pouted defiantly while ignoring the heat pooling in your belly. You would definitely have crossed your arms if you could.

“That is the idea, baby. But I want to hear you say it first. Stop being such a brat.” He leaned over you, careful not to touch you. The heat radiated off his skin, making every hair on your body stand on end.

You stared at each other for a long moment, both of your eyes dark and pupils wide in anticipation and hunger, testing each other to see who would break first. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his boxers twitch; without permission, your eyes were drawn straight to the movement. And the solid shape you saw there, pressing against the fabric, confirmed what you already knew.

“Oh fucking hell, just fucking touch me, Matthew.”

“Oh yeah? Just touch?”

“No, obviously not just touch. I want you to get your hands and your mouth on me, and I want you to fuck me.” He made a deep groan in response, dropping his head to your chest, his soft curls tickling you. “There, are you happy now?”

His head snapped up, eyebrows already raised and mouth cocked in a smirk. “Oh yeah, baby, don’t worry. We are both about to be very happy. Now, was it so hard to ask nicely?” he growled as he moved to straddle you.

He was leaning above you, his curls falling forward to cast a shadow. With one hand on the bedframe clutching where your hands are tied, he ran his other hand gently down your arm, your side, your waist, before reaching under you to grab your ass firmly. A surprised moan escaped your lips. As your eyes fluttered close at his tight grasp, he leaned in for a hot kiss, firm, pushing you deep into the pillows beneath you.

Slowly, he kissed and suckled down your body, leaving a trail of marks on your neck, chest, and stomach. You would have complained normally, but the anticipation was clouding your mind. He stopped when he reached the band of your lace thong, looking up through his thick eyelashes at your heaving chest, the lack of contact drawing a whine from you. He softly chuckled as he moved to reposition himself between your legs and you let your knees fall to the side before he even had to ask you.

“Eager, are we?” he mumbled into the soft skin of your thigh. But you were too hot and desperate to say anything snarky back, simply arching your hips up to meet him, earning a growl as he leaned back. “Now, now. Baby. You know you’ve got to behave. Don’t make me regret not getting out the leg restraints as well.”

His eyes, usually a sparkly blue, were so dark now, with a ferocious intensity in them. He bit his lip and watched as you tried to quiet your squirming. After a few torturous seconds, he reached down and tore your lace thong in half.

“Tkachuk! What the fuck! Those were expensive,” you shrieked.

“Yeah, yeah… I can afford to buy you more,” he mumbled as he leaned forward and licked his lips.

You wanted to argue, but your mind wasn’t coming up with any more words as your heart thundered, watching his shiny lips open to place a firm suck on your desperate clit. Before you could even react, he moved and licked a firm stripe up your dripping cunt. The sudden contact exactly where you’ve been craving him made you give out a sharp gasp, eyes slamming shut as you pulled hard against your restraints. It hurt your wrists, but you didn’t care, you barely even noticed.

He hummed, clearly pleased with himself, before he lowered himself back down to lick and suck at your clit. You had been craving attention for so long that you couldn’t help but grind your hips to meet him. And surprisingly, he let you for a few seconds before he placed a firm hand across your hips to hold you down.

The attention to your core was quickly becoming more than you could bear and you felt yourself heaving under his heavy touch and firm tongue. You didn’t even have a mind to be embarrassed about the utterly pornographic sounds you were making; too focused on the tight knot of heat gathering extremely quickly in your stomach.

“Oh, Matty, baby. I –” you moaned. And he hummed against you as if to say he knew exactly what you wanted.

He sucked gently at your clit and looked up at you through his lashes and you could feel the smirk on his face as he slid two fingers slowly into your pussy, angling them perfectly to hit the magic spot on the first stroke. A string of curses and moans fell from your lips instantly, as you arched your back.

You were close. So close. You knew it. He knew it. And he seemed quite happy with how quickly you were getting there.

*CHIME* *CHIME*

His phone lit up with a notification that snapped you both out of the moment. He looked up at you, clearly thinking about something. And while his fingers continued to pump in and out of you, brushing your g-spot every time, he sat up and reached over you for his phone.

“What?! Matthew. What are you – Oh my god! What – Oooh…” you tried to yell, but your voice came out breathy and strained as your body was still working towards a release.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. It’s just Benny. Snap streak to keep, you know how it is.” His voice was so casual you almost thought you had misheard him.

It snapped you out of your pleasure enough to call out. “What?” You tried to sit up but the way his hand was working you and the way your arms were tied firmly above your head meant that you were stuck. And the more his fingers continued to work their magic, the less you could string a thought together.

“I mean come on, baby. You know the boys are going to hound me with questions if I don’t reply. Don’t worry, they’re not going to see anything too revealing, I promise,” he smiled down at you, his hand stopping for a second. His voice was gently asking for permission, and you trusted him implicitly. So, you gave him a lazy smile as you rolled your eyes, hiding your face into the crook of your arm in embarrassment when his fingers started working again.

His fingers knew exactly where to hit you as he used his new position to press the palm over your mound, grinding against your clit; it felt so good that you couldn’t help but let your eyes flutter shut again, lost in the sensation. Without his other hand to hold you down, your hips buckled against him, finding more friction there.

You barely heard him say “Okay done” or the thud of the phone being tossed across the bed. You didn’t miss his warm breath brushing over your ear as he leaned back in, his curls tickling your cheek. You didn’t miss the way he started sucking at the sensitive spot near the base of your neck that drove you crazy. You didn’t miss the way he repositioned himself, using his muscular thighs to pin you down as your hips moved more and more wildly.

“Come for me, baby, I know you’re close,” he growled.

The sound of his deep drawl, thick with desire sent a shiver down your spine. The tension in your belly broke and you felt the wave crash over you, pulsing again and again as you arched into him. His fingers worked you through the orgasm as he peppered kisses gently over your face and neck.

“Fuck, Matty.” You breathed out finally as focus came back. Your eyes flew open. “Shit, what the hell did you send them?”

His brows furrowed, worried, “Babe, was that too much? I’m sorry. I got a little lost in the moment there… It didn’t have your face in it, okay? Just your hands. Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” you smiled, “Okay, yeah, that’s fine.”

“I probably shouldn’t have done that, we hadn’t talked about it before, I’m sorry,” he mumbled against your cheeks. His hands were rubbing circles on your waist, and it did calm your mind a little. You knew that the boys would still know exactly what was going on, but you were glad at least they didn’t see the way you looked blissed out underneath Matthew. That was just for him.

So, you leaned up and deepened the kiss, and felt him relax a little. His hands ran up and down your sides, gently stopping to knead your breasts and pinch your nipples. The sensation sent a shock through your body and you suddenly remembered the emptiness you felt and moaned a little into his lips.

“So, are you gonna fuck me or not?” You mumbled.

You heard a sharp intake of breath as he stiffened, pausing over you. But something about that seemed to convince him you were okay, as he leaned in, pressing his hard member into your thigh.

He slid his hands up your arms, causing you to shiver under his gentle touch, as he went to untie your wrists, rubbing soft circles on the sorer parts. As soon as your hands were free, you ran your hands down his chest. You always loved the way his muscles rippled above you as he carefully distributed his weight so as to not crush you.

After making out for a few moments longer, the burning heat was solidly back between your legs, and the need to feel him inside you boiling over. You pressed your heel into his ass, trying to get some friction from his hard cock against you. But he still seemed to be taking it slow, feeling a little bad about earlier.

Frustrated, you decided to take the lead, reaching a hand down; you didn’t waste any time, slipping below the waistband, you started stroking his hard length firmly. His breath hitched in his throat and slid into a deep guttural groan, clearly surprised by your sudden movement.

His mouth never leaving yours, he peeled off his shirt and slid his boxers down. With a thigh hitched over his hip, you felt his tip, slick with pre-cum, rub up and down your wet cunt, both moaning into each other’s mouths as he slid into you slowly.

Taking a few seconds after bottoming out, he started rocking his hips, guiding himself in and out gently. But you wanted more. So much more. You whined; your nails dug into his lower back, hoping he would take the message.

And he did. He pulled back from your lips and shifted himself so both your legs rested higher on his waist. He studied your face, completely still for a moment; his eyes were wild, soft curls forming a curtain around his forehead.

He must have seen what he wanted because he gave you a smirk before he slid almost all the way out, before slamming back into you, hard and deep. You let out a shocked moan as you felt a warm tingle radiate all over your body. He seemed satisfied with that response, his smirk widening.

Biting down on his swollen lip, he drove himself into you again and again, finding the perfect spot inside you that made you arch up into him in pleasure. Your hands clutched his toned arms for stability, moaning and swearing. Your name fell from his lips again and again as he told you how good you felt. How well you were taking him.

Sensing you were getting close, he reached a hand between you and pinched your nipples hard, before sliding it down to rub a thumb on your clit, never breaking his rhythmic thrusts. The added sensation almost sent you over the edge immediately. As you raised your hips to meet his stroke after stroke, you felt the edges of your vision get fuzzy and your body get blazing hot.

“Matthew, baby, fuck” you called out as your second orgasm crashed into you hard, causing your thighs to shake where they squeezed his torso as you dug your nails into his arm. As he fucked you through your high, you felt his rhythm get frantic as he chased his own.

“Matty, baby, I feel good?”

“Yeah, fuck, you feel amazing.”

“Show me how good I feel. Come on, Matty.”

He let out a deep moan as he thrust a few more times before spilling inside you, his hips stuttering. He collapsed onto his elbows, breathing hard into your hair.

After a few seconds of catching your breath, he mumbled into your ear, “Fuck, that was amazing. You’re amazing.” He kissed you on your cheek, your eyes, your mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” you smiled into his mouth. As he leaned back, you gazed into each other’s eyes, just watching your wide pupils fill with love. You didn’t want to break the moment but, “Alright, Matty, we got to get ready for dinner,” you whispered, tapping him on the arm.

“Urgh,” he grunted, burying himself into your neck. “Why…” he whined.

“Baby, they’re your teammates. We got to go. You want to go.”

“Fine,�� he sighed.

* * * * *

You walk into the restaurant, hand in hand with Matthew. You were running about 20 minutes late. He did decide that he was going to try and convince you to stay home one more time in the shower. Not that you were really complaining.

You spotted Barky across the restaurant who gave you a wave.

You knew something was up before the two of you even got to the table as you saw the guys nudging each other and snickering. Weird.

“Hey, Chucky. Nice of you two to finally join us. Glad we’re not interrupting a fun evening,” Sam Bennett said with a wink.

That’s when it hit you—the Snap. You felt your face turn beet red as you tried to hide yourself in Matthew’s sleeve.

“Well, Samuel, you gotta please your woman before dragging her to hang out with you boys,” you heard him say cockily.

You groaned, “I should just go home.”

“No, no! Don’t be silly. Come on, sit down,” you heard someone yell. You sat down next to Ekky, not meeting anyone’s eyes, feeling like he was a safe bet.

You placed the napkin across your knees, fiddling with the fold so you didn’t have to look at anyone.

You felt Aaron reach an arm across the back of your chair and give your shoulder a squeeze before leaning over to you and Matthew.

“Don’t worry. We didn’t see anything. Just your hands and some hair,” he said earnestly, leading you to breathe out a sigh of relief as he sat back. Then, he cleared his throat and chuckled.

He leaned back in, “Wrist ties, eh? Kinky,” he whispered to Matthew across you.

“Oh my god!” you whispered, giving him a slap across the chest. He let out a loud laugh, clutching his chest. Yeah, you should have known Ekblad was a bad bet. Should’ve sat next to Bob, who definitely didn’t use Snapchat.

Matthew, annoyingly, joined in on the laughing as he shrugged smugly. He didn’t think you’d see him put up 3 fingers and mouth “three times” at Bennett before winking; but you did. You reached over and shoved him, causing a sound of surprise as he lost his balance, almost falling out of his chair.

That caused everyone to laugh, and it seemed for the first time since you walked into the restaurant, the attention was on something else for a second. The Snap was only brought up a few more times that evening, your face turning red hot each time. But it was a good night, as it always was with the boys.

#matthew tkachuk #florida panthers #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #nhl x reader #Matthew tkachuk x reader #hockey smut #nhl smut #nhl oneshot #matthew tkachuk imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #rox writes #smut

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riddles-fiddles · 9 months

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hello asdfgsjdldkl this is a half fluffy half spicy request, how would you feel about writing a fem/gn mc who is autistic, but here’s the twist (lol)—their special interest is kink/bdsm? maybe they’re a bit shy about it at first since it’s not exactly something you just TALK about but one day they somehow end up infodumping? with Lilia, Idia, Vil, and Malleus, if that’s okay? (bonus points for mc being a sub ghjkslahsksl) (also if you’re not sure about how to write an autistic mc that’s totally fine, thank you for your service /gen ajshsjskdkl)

I tried to write this based on how my ADHD brain works with my special interests, so I hope this isn't as terrible lol also since you didn't say which kinks you'd like to see, I kept them a little bit more on the generalized side. If you'd like something more specific you can request again. Anyways thank you kindly for this lovely request, I had lots of fun writing it /gen <3

Synopsis: the boys are very intriguided to know about your secret special interest~ Characters: Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge Tags: NSFW, smut with context, bondage play, master/servant, power play, spanking/impact play Notes: gender neutral reader (unspecified body parts), everyone is 18+, excuse any grammatical errors,,,

•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Vil looks down on you with an amused expression as you moan and buck your hips up, searching for the friction you so desesperately need from his hands. You were pressed against the couch with your wrists firmly tied up on your back and your legs held apart by the leather belts, your dripping arousal entirely exposed and unable to wiggle too much, keeping you on the edge of your climax as you relied on Vil's painfully slow and light touches. It all started from one of Vil's fashion jobs. Being one of Twisted Wonderland's most beloved supermodels, he was offered to take a catwalk under the name of a high-end brand trying to test a new niche of clothing and creative display: a mix of kinky props and everyday clothing, with emphasis on office attire.

Vil looks absolutely dazzling on his violet blue formal shirt, sleeves rolled up his elbows to expose the shoulder-lenght latex gloves. A black leather chest harness hugs his figure perfectly, highlighting his curves and accentuating his proportions, his clothing, paired with the sensual makeup, gave him a rather imposing, bossy feel - the perfect face of a dangerous temptation, especially for you.

So much you can't help but unload all the little details about harness fashion you know about, about how they can be used to better pick on certain body parts, how they can be used for bondage and how you would love to try some on-

"Hush now, my precious nightingale. I love it when you sing for me like that, but…" He coos softly, his breath tickling against the hot skin of your cheek as his fingers came to press against your lips, gently nudging them open; a taunt and a promise of something more to come. "…I would hate it if the agency's staff came into my dressing room to find you like this."

Your eyes widen, suddenly remebering that anybody could walk in on any second, curious about the amount of noise coming out of Vil's room. As you slowly part your lips to welcome his gloved fingers, you hear a low chuckle of satisfaction coming. "Good puppy," Vil's whisper melts on your ears like dripping honey as his fingers make their way between uour teeth, playing with your tongue. "You deserve a reward for being so well behaved."

"Y-you feel so g-good, darling…" Idia groans in contentment before slamming his cock deep inside you once more. A shaky, devilish laugh rolls off his tongue as he watches the way you struggle to keep you hand steady, trying your best to pour some tea without allowing even the tiniest drop to stain the sheets.

Idia was the one trying to suggest new things for you two to try out - on his own nerdy, embarrassed ways. He was too scared to openly admit his kinks, thinking that maybe you could find him a weirdo, so he would casually comment about something like he was just talking about the news, or even pointing out something unusual on a character from some anime.

However, Idia soon discovered about the hype of cat maid cafés, and as he 'innocently' showed you some of the recipes and how you could pick your maid's personality, he was surprised to see how it had sparked your interest, his face going alight as you passionately unravel about your love for cute maid outfits and how you do own one. Idia wasn't one to make bold moves, but that was just too good of an opportunity to let it slip away from his fingers, so he lightly suggests to see you with it…

And now you found yourself full-on roleplaying. Taking in the role of a humble, diligent maid to your master, you faced multiple challenges as Idia reveled on your misery, trying to keep yourself composed while serving him.

Idia's fingernails dig on your hips, pulling down on the black skirt as he bucks up against you, low gasps leaving his lips. You need to bite down on your lips to contain a curse, holding onto the teacup between your hands for dear life. "So cute and obedient…" You shiver at his praise, his voice laced with dark desire, pushing you down on his lap.

You are surprised by his hand possessively wrapping around your chin, forcing your face to turn to him. Before you can mouth any sound, he captures your lips, making your grip finally falter, droplets of tea splasing over Idia's legs.

"Oh no, seems like you've made a mess… better clean it up quick if you don't wanna be punished, huh?" He smirks with mischief, his pointy teeth grazing over your shoulder threateningly.

You shudder in antecipation under Malleus' firm grip around the back of your neck, pushing your face down into the sheets. His throaty growl lingers over your body, leaving goosebumps under your skin. "Mine," Malleus rasps, his teeth sinking down on your back, leaving behind a perfect mark. "And I'll make sure everyone knows who you belong to." Malleus is very curious regarding everything that involves human nature, entertained by even the simplest of things. It wasn't uncommon to find him nose deep inside books, drinking in the particularities of the ones so exquisite for his fae standards.

While spending the afternoon with you in Ramshackle Dorm, quietly fidgeting through your phones and simply enjoying each other's company, he accidentally looked over your smartphone right in time to catch you scrolling down on a Magicam post about 'power play'. His interest is immediately piqued, intrigued by whatever it meant; Malleus points it out, interested to know more about it, and as you eagerly explains what it means, Malleus nods and hums in understanding, his mind working out on this new discovery.

"That's a very exquisite concept. Tell me, Child of Man, would you be willing to give me a practical demonstration on the matter? I'm certain I could understand it better this way."

You tried to keep Malleus pinned down on the bed, your hands firmly wrapping around his wrists to keep him still. Your attempt in dominance only the Fae Prince, who effortlessly turned you to lay on your belly, restraining you by the arms. "Looks like I am the winner of this little dispute. Shall I indulge in my prize now?"

"Easy now, sugar bat. If you tense up too much, it will hurt even more." A low chuckle rolls off Lilia's tongue, mischief mixed with tenderness etched on his cherry-coloured eyes. The paddle on his hand slowly runs over your warmed thighs, the sensitive skin shivering and squirming under the rough leather feel, teasing and threatening to strike once more.

"Back in my day, those devices were used as torture tools to coax prisoners into talking about their secrets. Now, they are used in intimate rendezvous to give pleasure induced by pain." Lilia giggles, an innocent smile gracing his lips - a very fake one. The glint on his eyes suggesting some sly, hidden interest, like he wasn't just silently reading the fanfiction you were writing on your phone.

"So, you're interested on the complexities of pain and pleasure, huh? Would you like to indulge in a demonstration? I'll be more than happy to lead you into this forbidden experience, my dear." How could you deny such a confident, tantalizing suggestion? You knew a lot about the theoretical thing, having read a lot about fiction or even health-related articles about BDSM and impact play. Despite being shy about it, you knew you could trust Lilia.

"You're doing very well, sweetheart," Lilia's whisper is sweet and reassuring as his fingers gently thread between your locks, a soothing gesture in contrast to the dry impact of the paddle against your buttcheeks, marking the skin with a pinkish colour. The leather leaves a stinging sensation, making you gasp and squirm over Lilia's lap. He leans in to press a soft kiss on your forehead, a sly smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Only ten more to go."

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 1 month

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Another yandere set 2 ask, from yours truly! This is another one inspired by the yandere set 1 asks regarding fatherhood…

How would each of the yanderes’ react/behave during their darling’s labor and post-labor?

I wanna know who’s panicking, composed, excited, etc.

Sorry I got baby fever right now…

Yandere men and their darling in labor and post-labor

Assuming the reader this time is AFAB, or is in an A/B/O situation! By the way, i'm so sorry if i'm moving so slow with the requests! I've been busy lately so i'm trying my best to write.

"Why don't you just close the requests?" True, but some people use the ask box to talk and chat to me without compromising their anonymity. So, I hope you can be patient! I don't really like rejecting asks, so I probably will answer all of them. I know, I can reject them or not answer. I'm working on it lol. Especially that there's a lot of asks like these, which includes all the yandere OCs in a set... It's a bit exhausting. I kind of regret it, but hey, we're here already lol.

I added a section of... You'll know if you read HAHA

YAN! DELINQUENT

Liam will definitely panic. He's sweaty, he's smiling, he's about to blow off his top from the way the nurses were so nonchalant with your labor (It's normal). Can't they see you're about to die (You're contracting)?! Oh god, you can't voice out your pain without you talking (The midwives are not dumb enough to not read body language)! He will swear up and down that no more babies. NO MORE! It's already painful enough seeing you get swarmed by other people, let alone touch you.

Post labor Liam will be calm, fussy, and overprotective. Well, more overprotective than usual. He has a 70/30 chance of fainting, and will praise the gods if you delivered safely.

But, if you died... He will let out a gut wrenching cry by the foot of your bed. The baby won't even be noticed by him as he clenches his chest, sobbing and heaving his heart out. It will take more than days to calm him down, and have the heart to take care of your child. He will love the child, since he knows the child is innocent. But a big, gaping you-shaped hole in his heart is carved painfully in place.

YAN! BULLY

Uno will be the quiet panic-type. He sure is calm... On the inside. He's about to scream and rip the heads off of everyone who's touching you even a smidge wrong. NO MALE HANDS! NEVER! He's never been like this, ever. Even in your wedding, pregnancy, he never panicked. So why now? He's biting his cheeks to the point it bled, and you swore every single nurse and midwife in the delivery ward were yelled at by Uno.

Post-delivery Uno will calm down and act like nothing happened. "See? I know you can do it, nerd." Yeah sure. As if you can't see the blood stained teeth from him biting his cheeks. For the first time, he'll cherish a person other than you. He's so soft that it's new to you too.

If you died, Uno will turn the whole hospital up and down. He'll ruin everything, blame the midwives and nurses for not taking care of you enough, the hospital for lacking the resources to make a safe delivery.... And unfortunately, your child for killing you off. I'm gonna be honest, Uno will be the type to blame the child for your death. So, be healthy, darling!

YAN! NSFW ASMRTIST

Rose would be composed. He knew you were gonna be fine. Of course, nervousness will still be there, but he had enough trust in this hospital that he hopes you and your baby will be fine. That, and all of those breeding roleplays was his fault so he had to be composed since he brought it upon himself.

Post-delivery Rose would be relieved. He's right. And the cute little bugger is so small. He fits just by 3/4's of his arm. Wait, why is the baby so small? Are they really this small? But you were eating quite a lot... He's also a big guy, so the genes..? Is it from you? Or just recessive? He will have many questions. All those pregnancy asmr roleplays didn't really help.

If you died, Rose would feel like the whole world collapsed on his feet. What do you mean you died? He swears you would be okay. That you will be alive and well. He suddenly feels an immense guilt eating him up. Should he have panicked more? Should he have ensured the personnel that you're going to be alright? He sinks to his knees, weeping. He will swear on your body to take care of the baby well.

YAN! ISEKAI'ED ADVENTURER

Aeron is definitely skeptical. Sure, this world has magic, but it doesn't have the technological advancement of the modern world. It's also a world where he can't be with you in the delivery room. So all he could do is pace around the hall as he hears your cries of pain. He'll also cry with you if the delivery was too long for both of your likings.

Post-delivery Aeron will burst through the door and will go to you first. "Are you fine? Do you feel lethargic? Do you feel weak?!" The nurses have to pull him off of you so you can have the baby latch on you. He'll pout, but grips his arm as he watches you and the baby with a fond smile.

If you died... Aeron will regret everything. He knew he should have found a way back to the modern world. Maybe you could have delivered safely. He shouldn't have had a baby with you. A demon king's child will be too much on a mage's body, with all of those mana mixing. The whole hospital will be engulfed in demonic power as he suffocated everyone except his kid. He'll disappear with the child, forever retreating to the Demon realm to raise the kid alone.

YAN! PLAYER

Amor would be excited. He never thought he'll finally get a kid of his own after years and his past life. His parents spoiled him a lot, his guardian angels (gods) spoil him too. And this kid? A product of you and him?! Gods above! That's like, such a blessing! He'll be persistent in asking the nurses and midwives if the kid is there, if you're alright... OH god are you okay? All of these other people touching you... He feels the bile rising up to his mouth. But he knew these people are just doing their job, and then--

Post delivery Amor would be all over you. He'll kiss your face, your lips, your forehead, immediately buy you food you cannot have, and spoil you rotten as you recover. And his kid? Oh his kid is so cute! Look at them. So pretty and small... Is that his nose? Oh they got your eyes! His hair color and your hair texture... Oh they're the perfect mix!

This is one of the rare times were you are guaranteed on not dying... In the backstage, Amor shook the gods on putting so many blessings on your body to make sure your delivery will be safe and easy. That the child will be healthy. So, no deaths at all.

YAN! PARASITE

Acheron will be overly cautious one. He will have you deliver in your home, in his lab, where he transformed it to a delivery ward. He trained in birthing too, so he's as good as professional midwives too. He will be there for you, ensuring that the pregnancy will end well. Because honestly, technically speaking, this child is from this body of his and yours. Not your original body. So he's a bit conflicted.

Post-delivery Acheron is smug. He knew he could handle the delivery well. The baby is healthy, and he's planning on how to make the kid a parasite too. Which can earn your ire or approval, depending on what you want. But now, he's content, and actually loved this little kid, despite knowing the biological composition of the kid.

If you "died", Acheron will be filled with regret too. He wasn't skilled enough. He should've listened and admitted you to a hospital. He'll have to extract the parasite from your body and dump the body, and then find another body for you to inhabit. He'll have to nurse your parasite form to healthy levels first before letting you wriggle into a body. He will be a bit cold to the child though, but a bit more time with him will calm him down.

YAN! EMPEROR

Callisto will only have the best midwives. He'll be overbearing, making sure you WILL be alright. He will, for the first time, be religious and pass by the church to pray that your delivery will be safe. He will force himself in the delivery room. No matter what anyone says. He's the nervous type, biting his nail and barking orders if something even went wrong just a bit.

Post-delivery Callisto will be proud. He's not the type to freak out, he'll just feel the calm washing over him as he showers you with kisses, saying "you did so well", "thank you so much", "Take your time recovering", etc. The baby, he's more or less concerned since he knew the baby will be fine.

If you died though, he'll storm out of the palace, then to the church, and blasphemize the whole place. If he's the chosen one, then why did you die? Why did the love of his life slip past him? After hours of desecrating the church, he will be hell bent on revenge, making the church the enemy. His kid will be not loved, unfortunately. He will neglect them, only providing the bare minimum. Don't get him wrong, the kid will be the heir, but they have to prove himself.

YAN! COLLEGE STUDENT

Alpheus would be the type to be suddenly so overwhelmed with worry. Since he's never been one to feel, the sudden feeling of panic, dread, and worry settled in his stomach. He would probably lay down on the hospital floor, clutching his belly as he rocks back and forth. The nurses and midwives would have to fuss over him before you to the point that you're getting annoyed. He will have to be separated from you, or else he'll probably goes to shock when he hears your pained cries.

When you're done, he goes to your side, crawls beside you, and becomes a clingy mess. He'll apologize, kiss and nuzzle you. He can't believe he subjected you to such a painful ordeal. One child. Just one is enough. He can't have you (and himself) be in this situation again. But the baby is worth it.

When you die, Alpheus will for the first time, cry from grief. It's his first time experiencing something like this, that it overwhelms him. He CANNOT father your child. Unless some divine intervention happens and he'll be fine again. The child will go to his parents, and they'll hope that he'll recover, for the baby's sake and yours up in heaven.

YAN! DEEP SEA CREATURE

Viper's not a worrywart. Since you can't exactly go to the civilization to deliver your eggs safely in time, he would have to let you birth on what's akin to a nest. He'll be there with you, his hands all over your body as he whispers encouraging words to your ears. use his tail as a pillow, who cares. As long as you're comfortable and safe, everything will be fine.

Post-delivery will have Viper give one of his rare smiles. He massages you gently, telling you that you did great, feeding you food, and then fixing the clutch of eggs you birthed. He will have you asleep in no time to rest your weary body as he fusses over the eggs and making sure none of them are wrong.

If you actually died during the birthing process, there will be only two outcomes. If you came to him willingly and you weren't forced to love him, he would take care of the eggs diligently, not wanting to waste your life. If you didn't, let's just say a little cannibalism goes a long way with eggs. Viperfish caviar, anyone?

YAN! HUNTER

Orion will panic throughout your pregnancy. He really thought that he's gonna be the laidback type, knowing you'll be fine and whatnot. But noooo. Now he's here, pacing back and forth in the delivery room as he watches your face wince and cry from the pain. Oh, he almost can't take it anymore. He's begging you to get an epidural. He's really doing it. If you refused, he would shut up and look at you like a puppy kicked. But who cares about him rn? You're giving birth!

Post-delivery Orion will have him faint lol. He'll already wake up when you are cleaned up with the baby also cleaned up. He'll zoom past the nurses and midwives then go to you, where you held the baby up to your breasts to feed. He'll feel a much more overwhelming love in his heart, and he cries his heart out. If it's a clutch of eggs, he'll be starry eyed as he watched the eggs float in an egg incubator, eyes filled with adoration and gratefulness to you.

If you died, he'll be more or less in denial. No way, right? No way you just died like that after giving birth to your precious child/children. You just left them like that? You're so heartless. But deep down, he knew it wasn't your fault. And he goes home that day, eyes hollow, but filled with grief and love for your baby/ies.

YAN! KING

Soma would be pissy. Nobody should talk to him, or he'll blow his top off to them. You were giving birth! Can nobody understand that?! This is a crucial time that it needs his 101%, no, infinity percentage of his attention if that makes sense. He'll also break the rules and be inside the delivery room, letting you hold his hand and even break it. May it be from the pain or from you wanting to exact revenge. Who cares? He'll let you break it if it meant your comfort.

post-delivery Soma would be a lot calmer, and he'll immediately order the people to make you more comfortable, and treat you to make your recovery as fast as possible. Your kid will be given the best amenities, and made sure to have the best upbringing. Hell, he'll have the kid enrolled already and they only got birthed lol.

If you died, he'll be in a stormy mix of emotions. First, grief, second, denial, third, anger, and fourth, relief. Soma knew that what he did to you was wrong and not normal. He doesn't regret it at all. But now that you died when he himself did this to you... As he carries your baby in his arms, he somehow felt relief that you're gone from his clutches, and probably off to somewhere safer than by his side. He will take care of the baby, and he will slowly turn to normal.

YAN! GOD

Technically speaking, Liviticus can just spawn a kid. With the right genetic mix, etc. So it's up to you if you want to go with the nuances of pregnancy. He will be calm. Like, calm calm. It's almost unnerving how he smiles and leads you to an almost fantasy like ward (a forest) laid you down on the delivery bed (a comfortable circle mattress by the foot of a gigantic tree trunk) with helpers in tow (fantastical beasts), and guides you to a safe delivery. You weren't in pain, just a dull ache in your system as you push your child.

Post-delivery Liviticus will have him shower you with the most dazzling display of flowers and sprites dancing around you. The whole forest, and somehow the whole world feeling festive as they made this day a celebration, getting a divine message that the God's child is born. Everyone is ecstatic as they gave thanks to you, and worship you, and give blessings to you.

Again, unlikely to die. Considering your mortal body is dead, and now you're a goddess/god, you cannot die no matter what.

YAN! PROSECUTOR

Yuta was a nervous soon to be father, but he's more or less calm. He's following procedures to a tee, almost robot like. But in reality, he's on autopilot. He already panicked enough internally that he's robotic in your delivery day. You're already worried enough, why would he burden you with his whims and wiles too? He can't afford you getting your mind off of the baby at all. So, he's acting all calm and collected as he held your hand, wishing for everything to be over.

Post-birth Yuta will have him finally break down. At first, all of the personnel around him and you will be shocked as he slumps down to his knees. He doesn't even know why too. Until the tears fell, one by one and he's sobbing from relief. He'll thank you a thousand times, prostrate in front of you, and be spoiling you once you're good to eat. He's truly grateful.

If you die, Yuta will also fall to his knees and sob, but this time from grief as he lost his trusty partner, his true love. Why did he kill all of those people for? Just for you to die? He misses you a lot. He wants to hold you, kiss you again... But all for naught. Mysteriously, the people who helped you give birth died in random patterns. He'll also include others to put the suspicion off of him. But who cares right now? As he cradles your baby and watches the whole midwifery section burn and ensure that no mother dies from giving birth, he sighs, and wishes you were there with him.

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