I graduated high school yesterday can I have some soft dom Peter Steele fluff pleaseeeeee
A/n: So, I'm almost a full year late to this... Hope you're, uh, doing well outside of high school... Also, sorry this is kinda short I find fluff kinda hard to write bc, like, nothing happens... I hope you like this either way :')
Warnings: None, just fluff!
You let out a heavy exhale as you sat down, the weight you'd been carrying around with you finally falling off.
Your head fell back, you let your eyes close, inhaling deeply now. "Is this what we're doing now?" Your behemoth of a boyfriend asked as he wrapped his arms around your waist. "Not even asking for permission, you just do as you please?"
You nodded, comfortable in his lap. "If you're gonna be this big and this comfortable, I'm going to sit my ass right here at every possible moment." He exhaled a short laugh, resting his head on yours as it lay on his shoulder, familiar green shirt almost cartoonish as he wore one of a similar shade and style every single day.
"You're right, it's all my fault." He relented, rubbing your hips soothingly. He kissed your hair sweetly before bringing his lips down to your ear. "Should've cut my legs off at the knees when I had the chance." You chuckled at that, hands finding his for a moment. "But then, I guess I'd have to give this up, wouldn't I?" He thought for a moment before shaking his head.
Peter kissed your hair again, but he didn't pull away much to speak this time, deep voice coming out rough and gravely as always. "No... No, I wouldn't like that at all."
You inhaled sharply again, willing your body to move. You lurched forwards, Peter gripped your hips tighter to keep you in place, thinking you were trying to get up.
You turned the TV on and found a good show, not letting the volume get too loud to keep with the neutral atmosphere. "Oh, we're doing this now, too?" He asked, pulling you back against him. He took the remote from you and set it aside. "Give me an elastic." He muttered.
You handed him the one you kept on your wrist, not thinking anything of it. He pushed you forwards some and ran his fingers through your hair, combing it before parting it.
You giggled, not minding him playing with your hair. "Sisters gave me good practice." He muttered, parting your hair into sections. "Your hair's soft... smells good, too." He murmured.
Could you make pete steele smut in a forest? Like, she finds him there, she's his girl, and she straddles him backwards and leans her upper body on his bent legs innocently. He sees her spine arch and he's like a tad bit horny (just a little tiny bit 😁🤏) and he tells her to turn around. She's hesitant at first, but he makes it happen 🤭😎
Thank you so much, if you do it.
Just wanted to add I loved all the other stuff you wrote for Peter and also others, you are amazing and no pressure, if you don't write it, but if you don't intend to, please just respond to this and say you won't.
A/n: I have been sitting on this request for SO LONG I'M SO SORRY I hope it was worth it at the very least hopefully you enjoy it I ALSO needed to write cockwarming with him so I snuck that in there uh k love you but 😋
Warnings: Smut, cockwarming, public (???) sex, rough sex, riding, slight degradation, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!
When you and Peter decided to move in together you knew you wanted a big backyard, somewhere to escape to. Peter agreed, it seemed to make you happy.
However, finding a big backyard, as big as you wanted it, was hard. So you settled for a forest just beyond your house.
Peter loved it, it was dark and cold. There was a clearing you made your little spot and would go out for picnics. Peter preferred hiding in the bush, but he'd come out with you. It was the perfect atmosphere for writing the music he made for Type O, he'd just spend hours out there and you'd come get him for dinner.
So, as per usual, you'd gone out to find him and bring him home.
Peter was in that damn green shirt, it was a warmer day so he didn't need a jacket. He was leaning back against a tree, notebook resting in his lap, pencil in his hand.
He smiled when he saw you, just a small one, like you were used to. "Food almost ready?" He asked, setting his work aside to give you space to sit.
You nodded, letting out a heavy breath as you took a seat in his lap, back against his chest, head resting on his shoulder. "I work tirelessly for you, and then I have to chase you down." You complained playfully.
Peter chuckled, wrapping an arm around your midsection. "I'm getting you some exercise, it's good for you." You rolled your eyes at him, pushing his arm away.
"How ever do I put up with you?" You looked back at him over your shoulder, a slight smirk playing on your lips as you leaned forward. You hugged his bent legs, letting your weight rest on him completely.
Peter eyed you shamelessly, biting his lip as he did. Your ass pressed firmly against him, thighs on either side, spreading your skirt and lifting it. His hands rested on your hips, just how small you were in comparison to him. That arch in your back, he traced that with his gaze up and down, real slow. "I'll never know, but I won't complain." You rolled your eyes at him, not catching his wandering gaze. He pulled you down, his own hips rolling so you could feel what he was thinking.
You looked back at him, feeling the obvious hardness beneath you. "Seriously?" You asked, smirking slightly.
Peter shrugged. "No one comes out here, I haven't seen anyone and I'm here every day."
Your brows raised. "Out here?" You asked, again he shrugged.
"Why not?" You long about it, were you seriously going to do that? Out here, in the open? "I've still got some stuff to figure out, can dinner wait?" You thought for a moment before nodding, resting your chin on his knees. "Good." He said simply before hoisting you up a little. The sound of his zipper coming down had you whipping your head around to him, not before his cock his your ass, though.
You looked back ahead, face turning beat red as you heard that low grunt he made, refusing to look as he stroked his length. "Better I get you ready now, right? That way we can go home and I can just have you however I want." You made a small whine, hugging yourself to him tighter. He chuckled, pressing the tip to your thinly clothed cunt. "Just go slow, you're fine."
Peter picked up his notepad and pencil once more, using your back as a table. You reached back, tugging your panties out of the way. You teased yourself on him a little, getting his tip slick with your juices before letting it kiss you properly.
You moved slow, with no prep it was hard to take him, but you were determined. Paranoid of someone finding you, but determined.
Once the initial sting from the stretch faded it became easier, but you still moved slow. When you went too fast you'd receive a quick rap on your ass from Peter, telling you to slow down so he could write.
Eventually you were fully seated on him, gut bulging, breathing heavy. So, so full of him, pulsing inside of you. It was hard not to move, but it was impossible to move if you tried. You stayed leaning against him, eyes crossing slightly as he worked away, occasionally bucking his hips up for you.
"How're you feelin', hun?" He asked, setting his things down and rubbing up your sides. You leaned back, trying to keep your eyes open as you rested your head on his chest. "You ready for more?" His arms wrapped around you, holding you to his chest. He thrusted up, setting a slower pace, grinning at the squeaks it pulled from you. "It's fine, just take it." He grabbed your hips and lifted you up before bringing you down.
He repeated that motion a few more times, lifting you up and bringing you down. "Hah, fuck, Peter..." You moaned, neglected clit pulsing dully between your legs, next to the ache sucking on Peter.
He lifted you off completely, groping your ass and spreading you to see what he'd done with such little effort. You gaping cunt pulsed around nothing, begging to be filled once more. Peter grinned, pushing both thumbs into you and stretching you again.
"Turn around." He ordered, pulling his thumbs from you. You looked back at him, brows furrowed slightly. "Come on, turn around, I want to see your face when I ruin you." You bit your lip, hesitantly complying.
You turned around, straddling him once more but facing him this time. Your hands rested on his shoulders while he got you seated on his cock again. "There you go, take all of me exactly as I give it to you." He moved you faster, lifting you up higher and slamming you down harder. "Come on, ride me." He ordered. "Ride me like the dumb little bitch you are, say it, tell me what a dumb little bitch you are."
The words caught in your throat, but he didn't slow down, hips now matching the pace he moved you at. "I-I'm a- nah- I'm your dumb little- fuck!" Peter chuckled deeply, fucking you with purpose now.
omg we need a peter steele fluff of where they’re just laying together in the couch watching some silly tv show that he swears he hates and it’s just watching cause she loves it, but it’s secretly invested
Peter Steele x Reader FLUFF
The plush cushions are a soothing balm to your aching body as you lounge in front of the tv. One arm is twisted up beneath your head and the other curls into your chest as you blink absentmindedly through the commercials while you wait for your show to start.
It’s as you mentally sing along to a jingle about toothpaste that you feel a dip in the foundations you had nestled yourself into amongst all the pillows and blankets adorning the velvet couch.
Peter sidles up by your feet, creeps closer wordlessly and manoeuvres you without complaint or request until he has found a place behind you, pressed into your back as his hulking frame curls around you with a final, content sigh— pleased with himself.
He’s very cat-like.
You always imagined a feline to behave in exactly the manner he does should it have the strength and size to get its way. Calculated and silent. With a sense of authority that whispers rather than demands. As if what he wants is already set to occur and he must simply nudge a single domino to collect his reward.
“We waiting for your show?” He rumbles. You hum a confirmation, grabbing the hand he has slung over your waist to bring back up to your chest in that curled position you had been laying in.
“Stupid.” He murmurs as the titlecard plays.
“That’s why it’s good.” You offer with an amused grin.
“It’s garbage.”
“One mans trash and all that.” You murmur. He chuckles.
You aren’t sure at what point you fall asleep but you’re roused when a sharp “tsk” from Peter vibrates through the top of your head where his chin rests. You make a small, sleepy sound and try to stop your eyes from closing again but the warmth of him is a cradle and his weight is a blanket.
“She was so good to him too.. what a moron.” He grumbles, focused on the cheesy dating show illuminating the room.
“Hm?” Your voice is pitchy and doused in sleep.
“Nice, stayed loyal, went back to the house bragging about him. And he embarrassed her like that? Moron.”
You giggle drowsily.
“Thought this was garbage?” The sound of your voice alerts him to just how sleepy you are and he can’t help but grin when he looks down to see you fighting for consciousness.
“It’s mind numbing.” He doubles down. “But when my sweetheart is napping against me I can’t think anyway so it’s fine.”
You scoff out a short laugh and look up to notice the ending credits are rolling and you lean forward to jerkily reach for the remote and turn it off.
The the room is lit by nothing but the moon and a faraway lamp that you’d draped a sheer scarf over, providing a concentrated glow that didn’t wish to disturb your bubble.
You turn in his arms and he lifts them to help you. When you bury yourself into his chest and sigh, the weight returns, coiling around you with a chuckle that’s more vibration than sound.
“Ten minutes. Then I’m taking you to bed.” He indulges you, grinning at your sleepy antics before leaning down to press a kiss to your head— at least you think he does.
It’s hard to be sure when you’re teetering on the edge of sleep in the arms of your sweetheart.
Ok this is a bit hyper specific but I saw someone else request another writer to do this and I wanna see your take!
Do you this you could write a GN Reader who’s friends with one of the zoldyck kids (most likely Killua or Illumi) and while at the manner they pass by Silva/Zeno and Reader makes a remark like “damn… your dad/grandpa kinda fine…” and they hear?
Sorry if this is too specific….. ignore this if you don’t wanna write it!! <3
D.I.L.F.
Characters: Illumi Zoldyck, Silva Zoldyck
Type: Crack, Short Oneshot, Gn!reader
Illumi is sick of your shit
Warnings: none
Being friends with Illumi was...interesting to say the least. No one actually understands how you guys came to be acquainted, aside from the fact you both work in the same business. But somehow, you had gained the cold assassin's trust enough to go on joint missions with him and be invited over to his home.
And boy, were you glad that was the case.
Currently, you were sitting at the Zoldycks' grand dining table, discussing a potential ally-ship. Well; more like listening to Illumi and his father discuss it.
To be honest, you could care less about the technical side of things. For now all you could pay attention to was Illumi's absolute beefcake of a dad.
You were leaning against your arm that was propped up on the table with a smitten look on your face. Oh the things you would do if he wasn't married.
Glancing over at you, Illumi noticed the spacey look on your face, your eyes glued to his dad who was seated across the table.
"So Y/n, what do you say?"
Your brain didn't really comprehend the words spoken to you by the albino man, but you just nodded.
"Huh, yeah, whatever, that sounds good."
All that mattered right now was that he was looking at you.
You were snapped out of your daze at the feeling of Illumi kicking you from under the table. You jumped out of your slouched position and snapped your head to look at your companion, who was giving you the most dubious side eye you have ever seen.
After dinner, you and Illumi made your way down the corridor, about to leave the estate.
"Damn Illumi...you never told me your dad was so fine," you sigh, thinking back to the man you had just met moments ago. Your friend narrowed his eyes at you as the pair of you kept walking.
"Don't say that."
"Aw, come on, he's a total DILF! Do you need another dog? I can bark. Seriously, if he's interested in another spouse tell him to call me."
Illumi stopped walking, one of his eyes twitching slightly in annoyance. You took a few more steps before noticing he had stopped. You turned around to look at him as a beat of silenced passed.
"...What?"
The black haired man swiftly and wordlessly turned you around by your shoulders and began to push you down the hall.
"Hey! Let go of me- I can walk on my own y'know!"
After a while of being shoved towards the front door of the main estate, Illumi swings it open and throws you out before you hear a loud 'SLAM' behind you. You land with a quiet 'oof!' before getting off and dusting your pants. You huff before turning around and raising your fist to the door.
"You're just mad you got your looks from your mom!"
If I had a nickel for every time I fell for a middle-aged men whose last name was Abbott, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice recently.
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