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hairmetal666 · 6 months

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Eddie thought inviting Steve to the Grammys would be fine, cool, no big deal. And it should be, but Steve is walking out of the suite's bedroom wearing a burgundy tuxedo that fits him like a fucking glove. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough to let chest hair peak out, and Eddie thinks he might faint.

He's always been attracted to Steve, of course, but never let it go further than that. Like, sure, Steve was hot as fuck, and sure he was the best guy Eddie had ever met, and sometimes, yeah, he did have to force away thoughts of Steve when he jerked off, and in other circumstances he'd totally be head over heels. Just, Steve is straight, the straightest, a fucking arrow.

Eddie tears his eyes from Steve's body. "You look great, man." He slaps Steve's back. Keeping it cool; keeping it so cool.

"Psh," Steve says. "Have you looked in a mirror? Oh my god." His eyes are saucer wide as they travel down Eddie's body.

"Is it too much?" Eddie crosses his arms over his bare chest.

"Are you kidding? You're--fuck, man. You look good as hell."

He's wearing a silky burgundy shirt, open to show off the necklaces around his throat, his tattoos, the silver in his nipples. His pants are leather, tight, sitting low on his hips and putting the cut of his pelvic bone on full display. They have a lace-up closure that comes dangerously close to showing pube.

Heat rushes to his face at the compliment. "It's--you know. Hazard of the job."

"Yeah, hazard, sure. Guess it's a hard life having hot dudes literally throwing themselves at you."

Eddie barks out a laugh. "That's a vast exaggeration."

"Is it?"

He blushes harder. "You're my date tonight, Steve."

"My point exactly."

His manager and publicist usher them out the door before he can ask what the hell that meant.

---

The ride is giddy and playful, Steve popping champagne to celebrate Eddie's nomination for Song of the Year, even though there's no chance in hell he wins.

Steve is happy. His face is bright with joy, eyes shining, laugh loud and infectious. He's gorgeous, knows it, will be an absolute menace on the red carpet. He's been with Eddie to parties and stuff before, doesn't have any anxiety in front of the camera and isn't obsessed with musicians like Eddie is, unafraid to meet them.

Or so Eddie thought.

Because now they're standing at the edge of the red carpet, Steve very nearly trembling next to him.

"Harrington?"

"That's--That's Madonna." Steve points to her. "We're not even ten feet away from Madonna." He gulps. "Eddie. Madonna."

Steve has met famous people before with Eddie. Ozzy, briefly, Janet Jackson, Dave Grohl, James Hetfield, and he'd always been fine. Barely batted an eye. But get him within reaching distance of Madonna and he falls apart.

Eddie doesn't think about it, grabs Steve's hand, twines their fingers together. "Okay?"

The smile Steve throws him, grateful and a little embarrassed, stabs straight through his heart. He calms as they make it up the carpet, but he doesn't drop Eddie's hand, even when they pause for pictures. In fact, he leans into it, drapes his arm around Eddie's shoulders, or around his waist, seeming to thrive the closer they are. Eddie feels this dangerous pull to indulge in it, to let himself believe it means something, and he doesn't quite have it in him to turn it off.

By the time they reach their seats, Steve is relaxed back to his normal charming and handsome self, doesn't bat an eye as Eddie introduces him around.

The show passes quickly with all the performances and Steve whispering jokes in his ear. It's the best time he's ever had at an award show, like he should have been bringing Steve along this whole time. He's so distracted that he's not really ready when Paula Abdul comes out to announce Song of the Year.

His name is read off as a nominee and Steve grabs his hand, squeezes tight. Eddie's heart flips in his chest. He's not paying attention when Paula opens the envelope, too focused on Steve's strong hand holding his. He hears her say, "And the Grammy goes to--" and everything goes fuzzy.

Steve is saying, "oh my god, oh my god, Eddie. Get up, get up."

And his fucking song is playing and everyone is cheering, a couple people slap his back, and oh shit, oh shit, he fucking won. He stands, Steve with him. He thinks they're going to hug, that's what you do in these situations, but Steve is kissing him. Not on the cheek and not a quick peck, but lip-to-lip, soft and sweet.

Steve just kissed him and he has to get on stage and give a speech. He has no idea what he says because Steve just kissed him. On the lips. On purpose. His ears are ringing and words tumble out of his mouth, thinks he says, "couldn't have done it without you, Stevie," before tripping over his feet to get backstage.

Interviews, photographs, congratulations all help him settle. He's still buzzing with the win, but aware enough now to think the kiss had to be an accident. They've been friends for nearly a decade and Steve never seemed interested in men generally or Eddie specifically.

It takes a while to finish up the backstage business, but when he makes it to his seat, Steve just beams at him. He doesn't mention the kiss, which makes Eddie think he's overreacting. It wasn't a big deal. Sure, he could still feel Steve's lips, warm and soft, against his own, but it didn't mean anything. He's just too in his big gay feelings to be objective.

They don't get a chance to really talk until they're back in the limo and on their way to the after-party.

"You won," Steve says.

"I won." Eddie smiles. "Crazy."

"You deserved it."

He shrugs. "I don't know about that."

"Doesn't matter. You did." Steve fidgets with the cuff of his jacket. "About earlier, um. The kiss. I--"

Eddie feels his face heating, heart kicking up. It was nothing, he knows, and Steve shouldn't have to-- "It was an accident. It's okay. I know you don't--it was the heat of the moment and--I know you're not--you don't--"

Steve blinks a lot, emotions flashing across his face faster than Eddie can categorize.

"What if I do?" Steve asks. His voice is too soft, eyes locked on the cuff link he's fiddling with.

"You--what?"

"What if I did mean it?"

"You're straight."

Steve goes pink. "I'm really not."

"Steve?" He shrieks. "Since when?"

"Um. Since you invited me to this?"

"What the fuck?" Eddie shoves him. "What the fuck, man?"

"I know, I know!" Steve pulls his hand through his hair. "You invited me and I freaked out and I didn't know why, and Robin made the saddest little face at me. Said, 'oh, dingus, you didn't know?' How the fuck was I supposed to know!"

"I think you wanting to fuck me should've been a pretty good indication!"

"I thought that happened to everyone!"

"It doesn't!"

"That's what Robin said!"

They're both yelling.

"Jesus christ. Jesus christ," Eddie keeps repeating.

"Look, I get it if you don't want me too, dude. I know that's not how it works, but I've been pretty crazy about you without realizing it for a while now, so--"

He doesn't mean to, he really doesn't, but he laughs. Like, super loud. Like a donkey bray.

"Okay, can the driver let me out? Like, can I go? I can't--"

"Wait, wait, sweetheart." Steve's gotten up, like he's about to knock on the partition, but Eddie grabs his wrist. "Of course I want you back, you idiot, oh my god."

"Oh." Steve's ears are pink. "Oh. Well. That's good."

Eddie huffs. "Just good? I won a Grammy and the guy I've been pining over for years wants me back. I'm having the night of my life."

"Shut-up." Steve's smile is so big, his eyes so bright.

He raises an eyebrow. "Make me," he says in his lowest register, but he's truly not prepared for it when Steve clambers over to him and lowers himself to straddle Eddie's hips.

"Holy shit," Eddie whispers. "Holy shit, Steve."

He give a wry little smile, eyes locked on Eddie's mouth. "Baby, can I kiss you?"

"Yes." Eddie clears his throat. "Yes, please, do that. Yeah."

Only, he doesn't. He's straddling Eddie, they're so close their breath mingles, and Steve's eyes flicker between Eddie's mouth and his eyes, lips so close to touching but not.

"C'mon, asshole," Eddie says.

"I knew you'd be a brat." He whispers. He wraps his hands into Eddie's hair. "Been dying to do this."

And then they're kissing. They're kissing and it steals all of Eddie's breath and his thoughts, and it's new but it's also like they've been kissing forever, like their lips and tongue know each other, like coming home.

He whines, high-pitched and breathy, and Steve laughs, kisses him deeper, moves closer, and Eddie feels how hard Steve is, the persistent pulse of him. And shit Eddie's close, on the brink just from this, from nothing, oh my god.

Steve's hands drift down Eddie's torso, mapping his chest and his stomach, coming to rest at the laces of his pants. "These have been driving me insane," Steve breaks the kiss to say. "Been thinking about undoing them all night."

"Fuck, sweetheart, you can't say shit like that," Eddie groans.

"Why not?"

"Because--because," Eddie sputters but then Steve's lips are on his neck and he's rolling his hips for friction.

Steve's fingers find the laces again, trace against them. Eddie's legs fall open, arching into the touch. "We're going to be so late," he murmurs as Steve's fingers get to work.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #fluff #friends to lovers #famous eddie munson #regular guy steve harrington #feelings confession #oblivious steve harrington #the grand tradition of steve harrington not realizing he's bi #eddie falls first steve falls harder #eddie's so cool about it #grammy award winning eddie munson #vaguely inspired by lupita and joseph at the oscars #driver roll up the partition please #a little bit spicy

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peeweekey · 5 months

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super graphic ultra-modern girl like me!

pairing: haley x reader

wc: 2k

tags: mature (NOT explicit) , closeted lesbian haley , both of you are drunk , making out

synopsis: where sharing lipstick with your best friend haley makes you feel… things.

a/n: reader: oh ho ho, i sure hope kissing my bff doesnt awaken anything in me! (it did)

i wrote this listening to super graphic ultra modern girl by chappel roan! haley fits so many of her songs its insane

your head is aching, spinning like you were sent to another dimension that consists of disco flashing lights and the nauseating smell of spilt vodka—all thanks to the sheer amount of alcohol you consumed in the past 5 hours. it’s pushing 3 AM—the strappy 4 inch heels are chafing your feet, the skimpy skirt clinging to your hips ride up in a way that would scandalize the small village mothers, and body glitter covering every inch of your skin.

you feel light, weightless as you flutter and float through the rhythmic bass engulfing the club. you nod your head to the beat of the music, swaying your hips that loosen with every sip of the sweet alcoholic drink in your hand.

you’re bouncing up and down to party rock anthem when your phone buzzes. fishing it out of your pocket, you squint your eyes to make out the notification. you bow your head, trying to make out the message over the flashing lights.

an amused laugh bubbles out of you. haley.

—> go 2 thr bathroon rn

—> hurry or else

you turn and wobble out of the middle of the dance floor, swaying to the beat while maneuvering the sea of sweaty bodies. the bathroom is in an isolated corner by the entrance of the club. you push the door open, stumbling slightly when it takes a little less effort than you expect.

you enter the club bathroom, shutting the ornate door behind you. it slams with a resounding slam, dampening the loud candy pop songs blaring through the party outside.

your heels click against cool marble as you saunter to the long, seemingly endless, stretch of mirrors and faucets. twisting the knob, a rush of tap water flows freely; it contrasts satisfyingly with the heated skin of your hands. you wet your fingers, dabbing your cheeks and neck with cool water. you sigh, shivering with the instant relief it brings.

as you cool yourself off, you think—you do wonder what haley’s predicament is, she texted you with much urgency.

perhaps she fell into the toilet—or maybe she’s drunk herself to the point of spewing her guts out in one of these very cubicles. the latter though makes you giggle. a notification buzzes from your phone, as if the sound of your laughter summoned it.

—> idiot

—> i can hear u laughing from here

you snort.

suddenly, without warning, you feel a warm hand pull you into a stall. it’s a sudden jerking motion, and you almost lose your balance to fall flat on your face. a gasp rips out of you as you clutch on to the very warm, very soft thing that keeps you from falling and twisting your ankle. before you even register the situation, you’re being dragged in to sit on the closed lid of the toilet.

you’re frazzled, knocked off balance by a rude and very disrespectful stranger who obviously has no morals. you feel your blood boil, ruthless insults ready at the tip of your tongue—

—then you look up, and that feeling dissipates. instead, a cheshire grin splits your face, “haley.”

she’s the living breathing stereotype of a wild party girl like this; blonde hair in waves down her back that smells sweetly of strawberries, nails buffed and painted a pretty baby blue, and make-up done up to the absolute nines. her sequin skirt sparkles and winks as she shifts. pretty, you’ll ask if you could borrow it next time—

manicured fingers snap and you’re pushed out of your own thoughts. haley crosses her arms, standing in between your thighs, looking down at you with a displeased expression. “took you long enough.”

you offer a sheepish smile. “i was busy.”

“yeah,” she sneers, locking the stall door behind her. “busy shaking your ass to trashy zuzu club songs.”

you ignore the sharp jab with a roll of your eyes. “what’s up?” you ask, your words slur slightly, almost tapering off into incomprehensible gibberish. “didya you puke or something?”

“ew. no,”the loud is just making my head hurt,” she replies, massaging her temples. “stick your legs together, i’m gonna sit on your lap.”

she knocks your thighs together with her knee. haley maneuvers you to her liking, your bare thighs pressing together when she spins and sits perpendicular to your lap.

“hm.” you feel the weight of her settle on top of your thighs. the warmth of her skin meeting yours under the cut of her skirt. you barely repress a shiver at the heat radiating off her skin. “woah! okay now you really have to tell me what’s going on.”

you're met with a faceful of strawberry-scented blonde hair when she shifts away—ignoring you. good news for her, your drink-addled brain doesn’t seem to care. in fact, your drunk brain figures it is a perfect time to shamelessly flirt. your tongue is loose enough, and your brain has completely thrown away its filter. as friends, of course; building camaraderie as people say.

“you smell nice, did you use that strawberry shampoo i gave?” you murmur, brushing the locks away from your face. you feel haley squirm in your lap. you know she used it, the pride bubbles up in you at the thought.

it’s overly warm, that plus the buttloads of alcohol brewing in your gut makes your skin feel on fire.

haley growls. “stop talking, dumbass.”

you roll your eyes, pinching her thigh. she yelps, high and breathy, swatting your hand away. she meets your eyes, her blonde brows furrowed.

“geez…” a lazy smile playing on your lips. “just take the compliment, hales.”

a ghost of a smirk appears on her cherry colored lips. glossy and pink. you wonder if they taste as sweet and tart as real cherries do—

you wince internally. thinking like that is not a good idea. damn your alcohol foggy brain, making you think of the inane idea of lusting after your best friend.

you knock your forehead into her shoulder. “so are we just going to sit here all day?”

“i just need to touch up my lipstick,” she says. facing you with an expectant look. “then we can go back.”

“and that’s why you called me,” you raise a brow. your gaze trails to the cherry coat on her lips—it looks perfectly fine to you. in fact, she looks absolutely darling like this.

“you need some?”

“…are you offering?”

“why not? we share all my shit anyway,” you shrug. “i think it’s somewhere in my purse—”

“where’s your purse?”

“i left it with the others, i think it’s with abby, i'll text her.” you say. fumbling for your phone, you reach in the hidden pocket of your skirt. the walls enclosing the cubicle restrict your movements; you bump your elbow against the flimsy wood as you dig deeper into the flimsy pocket. your skirt is skin-tight against your hips, you feel the woman above becoming increasingly agitated as your attempts to fish out your phone come out fruitless.

haley huffs above you, shifting; making your wary gaze snap back to her. she looks down at you with a pout—you’re damn sure she’s just as hammered as you.

“too far,” she whines, taking a firm grip of your jaw. your cheeks puff with the force of her squishing them, you feel the pointed tips of her nails digging into the fat there. she swings a leg over you, her hips bracketing your waist as she sits atop you.

this position feels strangely intimate; like all your senses are overwhelmed with only haley. the heady scent of her skin, the short sounds of her breathing in your ears, the burning feeling wherever she touches—it’s all her, her, her.

which shouldn’t make you feel the way it’s making you feel; like you're buzzing with adrenaline. you feel the blood coursing through your veins at race car speeds—spreading all throughout your body. your cheeks feel hot, you feel dizzy with all your senses stimulated by your best friend.

the reverberating bass from the music outside shakes the walls; like some sort of finality as it thumps, thumps, thumps.

“hales,” you start, your mouth dry. “what—”

she stares at you, her crystalline eyes shining in the dim light of the bathroom. a pretty pink flush paints her cheeks til the tips of her pearl-adorned ears. you feel her breaths against your cheek—short and warm. “stay still, the gloss you have on your lips will do.”

your ears have to be fucking with you… your eyes widen and you swear you feel your heart jump up into your throat. “huh—”

“what?” she says in response to your wide-eyed expression. her tone drops to something akin to a purr. “your lipstick is such a pretty shade.”

helping is what friends are for, right? maybe this is merely the alcohol talking; because she doesn’t like you like that, totally—and the disappointment you feel is not because of that either.

you swallow the heavy lump in your throat; your voice is strangled and stuttery when you speak. “f—fine.”

“perfect,” she grins. “hold still.”

this is the least you were expecting when you walked into the club bathroom; who knew you’d end up with haley in your lap and hovering over for what is technically a kiss. you will your eyes not to close, burning the view of her leaning over you into your brain. you shudder; this is not a sight that will leave you for months to come.

you squeeze her hip as her face hovers closer, palm lingering at her scratchy sequin miniskirt. you crane your neck, anticipating the brush of her lips against yours. your other hand travels to her upper back, stroking her locks of golden hair; under your ministrations, you feel her tremor slightly.

it feels like eternity when you finally connect.

sparks fly the moment you feel the plush softness of her mouth against yours, moving in a salacious rhythm that you doubt is for only sharing lipstick.

her lips are sticky with what remains of that cherry lip gloss; it smears all over your own lips, spreading your deep red lipstick everywhere; at the corner of your lips, at your chin. your eyes flutter shut, a contented sigh escapes your mouth and haley uses that as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. she drags her hand up and up, curling her fingers into the base of your neck.

you jolt, the pleasure fogs your mind; your thoughts are muddy, the only coherent thing is of haley.

your tongue swipes at her bottom lip, chasing the fruity flavor of cherry cola on her lips. it’s sweet, she’s sweet. you feel lightheaded with the overwhelming sensations of it. sure, you’ve kissed once or twice—but it never felt like this; soft and desperate and hot and tingly, affecting you all throughout your body.

your breaths are labored when she pulls away and you feel it's too soon. a clicking wet sound when her mouth disconnects from yours that makes you shiver. you feel dizzy with warmth; heat is pooling low in your belly, a low buzzing sensation overwhelms everywhere haley touches.

her lips as wine-red as yours. the same color lipstick smeared messily on her lips. haley wipes the corner of your cupid’s bow, where some of the color had smudged, her breathing heavy and pupils dilated as you stare. her hands feel delightfully warm and soft against your skin. golden strands of hair brush against your cheeks, making you squirm in your seat.

you can barely restrain your delighted giggle, in awe of the absurdity of the situation. haley laughs too, a light sound like a tinkling bell. you slump against the cold tile wall behind you, boneless and in disbelief— did you really just make out with your best friend? and at a grimy club bathroom no less.

time seems suspended here, cramped in a stall with only the sound of heavy breathing. there will be a lot more questions when you leave, lingering glances at your pleasure-pulled hair and smeared lipstick.

this is what friends do, what you and haley do. your eyes track her every move, unabashedly staring as she readjusts her top. haley catches your eye, smiling like the cat that got all the cream.

she cranes her face to your ear, whispering. “thanks for the touch up, babe.”

#stardew valley #sdv #x reader #sdv writing #sdv haley #stardew haley #stardew valley haley #haley sdv #haley x farmer #haley x reader #stardew valley fanfic #stardew oc #stardew farmer #sapphic #sdv fanfic #fanfic #stardew valley writing #stardew valley fic #key’s-vault

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bitterspoons · 5 months

Text

For once, I thought it was me.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Soulmate au where you can hear the songs your soulmate is listening to. Fred asks your best friend—Angelina—to the ball thinking she's his soulmate.

use of y/n

Warnings: Angst and just a lil' fluff

Word Count:

part one / part two coming soon

A/N: of course the first thing I write is a soulmate au 😭—it's fine and I hope you like it.

"Angelina!" Y/n calls, running over to the Gryffindor table—almost tripping over her feet before placing a hand on Angelina's shoulder.

"Yes?" Angelina looked up from her conversation with the Weasley twins and smiled at her best friend. The Great Hall was bustling with noise.

Y/n panted, catching her breath as she fixed her hair. "Sorry—I just—I ran—oh god I'm dying—" Y/n tried to catch her breath before waving her hand at the twins. "Give me a second—continue your conversation..."

Angelina chuckled before turning back to George and Fred. "This is my friend, Y/n." Angelina introduced. "She's in Hufflepuff so I doubt you would've met her."

Y/n waved, stealing some of Angelina's water.

"Why haven't you invited her to some of our parties?" George asked, batting his eyes. "It would've been nice, seeing a pretty face more often."

Angelina rolled her eyes at the flirt, making space next to her for Y/n. "Yeah, I've asked her but she's not a huge fan of social events." She explained. "It's a miracle she's even in the Great Hall—why aren't you with Willow?"

"Oh, I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out after Divination. Turns out my detention with Professor Sprout is cancelled!" The Hufflepuff said happily, still a bit red from George's flattering.

"Hell yeah!" Angelina cheered. "I told you she loves you."

Y/n smiled. "Yeah but turning her favorite plant into a pair of heels is pushing the line."

Fred cackled. "Y/n, You did what?!"

In her head, a symphony sounded. Him just saying her name sounded like an orchestra.

Pops of warmths fidgeted around her. She had always had a crush on the Weasley, and she never really knew when it happened. She hasn't told a soul and she never would. It was just— he always seemed so happy. She had made him happy, she made him laugh.

Y/n beamed as she explained how she had gotten too caught up with her conversation with Angelina about what shoes to wear for the Yule Ball, she had completely forgotten about the spell she was casting.

"Little Chéri's a troublemaker huh?" Fred teased, scrunching up his nose.

"Chéri?!" Angelina cackled—not a fan of pet names in the slightest.

George grumbled. "Fred has been learning French so he can impress girls."

Y/n laughed, taking a sip of Angelina's water again. "I think it's cute." She bit the tip of her thumbs, an old habit of hers.

"Ever the hopeless romantic, Y/n." Angelina commented, stealing her drink back.

The four engaged in conversation until a Slytherin tapped on Y/n's shoulder. "Uh—Y/n, I think I have a fitting right now." She said awkwardly, getting glares from the Gryffindors.

"Oh!" Y/n shot up, grabbing the last strawberry off of Angelina's plate before grabbing Angelina's pen—sticking it behind her ear—and running off, dragging the Slytherin with her.

"Hey!" Angelina protested, grumbling as she bit into her toast.

"What was that about?" Fred asked, battling Ron for the last corndog.

"Huh? Oh—Y/n and I are helping organise the Ball." Angelina explained, not seeing how Fred watched her run her fingers through her hair as she grabbed another pen to do her Potions Homework. "She's helping make and tailor people's outfits."

"Y/n?" Hermione clarified, popping into the conversation. "She's ridiculously talented, she made the dress I'm wearing!"

"She made adjustments on mine!" Angelina looked at Hermione. "I didn't like how bland my dress was, so she helped bedazzled it."

"Do you think she can fix Fred's dress?" George asked, earning a punch from Fred. "Ow! No seriously though, his tie is all wonky and his pants go way past his feet. Poor bloke's gonna trip!"

Angelina laughed, packing her stuff away and slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Find out yourself! I have to go check up on the Frog Choir."

Just a couple minutes later, Fred heard oddly croaky choruses from his soulmate.

●●●

Fred was trying to go the sleep that night, but all he could hear was stupid music.

When he couldn't decipher whether he was hearing it through his soulmate or if he was hearing it in the common room, he shoved his slippers on and slowly went down stairs.

As he peeked his head around the corner, he saw Angelina dancing with somebody—a CD player in the background as they laughed.

It was the same music playing in his head...Is Angelina—actually his soulmate?

He watched Angelina dance with her friend, practicing their dance for the ball before slowly going back upstairs.

Y/n and Angelina fell the floor in a heap, almost crying of laughter as Angelina stepped on Y/n's foot and then went crashing to the floor.

"So, are you planning on asking your mystery crush to the ball?" Angelina asked, rolling onto her stomach and popping the CD out.

Angelina didn't have a clue about her crush on one of the Weasley twins. Y/n refused to tell her, but she did give vague details about why she liked him so much.

"You think I have time for that?" Y/n questioned, brushing her hair. "Even if I did have the time to ask him, he's probably not even my soulmate."

"Who cares?" Angelina asked, exasperated.

Angelina was one of the people who couldn't hear music from their soulmate, it happened more than you'd think—about as common as dyslexia.

Angelina didn't give two fucks about whether the person she was dating was her soulmate, she tended to do whatever she wanted.

"Well—my soulmate is pretty cool too." Y/n protested.

"Well obviously!" Angelina retorted. "They has to be good enough for our Y/n"

"Oh stop it." Y/n laughed, throwing her hairbrush at Angelina. "I won't have time to ask someone and besides, I think he likes someone else." Y/n looked down, fiddling at the edge of her pink pyjamas.

"Your soulmate or your crush?"

"Maybe both!"

●●●

Fred woke up early today, mostly because he couldn't sleep. I mean, he just found his soulmate! This is the moment that everybody waits for, and it finally happened!

Fred was utterly in love with whoever his soulmate was. The two soulmates have sang duets with each other since they could talk—never making any action to try and find each other but Fred would be lying if he said he hadn't blasted music in his ears just to see if someone in the Great Hall would react.

His soulmate was constantly listening to music and singing songs, it comforted him whenever he heard it—especially since he's heard it since he was little.

And it was Angelina, a girl he was been trying not to crush on for ages.

Fred walked down the stairs, almost laughing when he saw Angelina.

Angelina and Y/n were completely passed out on the common room couches, paper sprawled out as they were doing a history of magic essay.

Fred shook Angelina awake. "Angie...Angie!"

Angelina fell off the bed. "What?"

Fred grinned. "I just thought you might wanna head to bed before the rest of the house wakes up."

Angelina rubbed her eyes before looking around—seeing essay papers, pens and her best friend, still sleeping as she sleepily held the tip of her thumb in her mouth and lulled herself asleep. "What time is it?"

"You have a little less than three hours before everybody else wakes up."

Angelina sighed, getting up and separating their papers and pens. "Hey, Fred?"

"Yeah?" He said hopefully.

"Can you do me a favour?"

Angelina handed him a messenger bag with little bows and gold chains decorating it, he took it without question as she continued.

"Do you think you could get Y/n to her common room? This is.. um This is the longest she's slept for a while and I don't know how to get into the Hufflepuff common room."

Fred thought for a moment—but who was he to deny his soulmate? After all, getting into the Hufflepuff dorms were easy—having learned the ins and outs of practically the whole school.

So Fred slung the bag across his shoulder and walked over to Y/n, still sleeping peacefully.

"Thank you!" Angelina grabbed her own supplies and started going up stairs. "You're the best!" She called. "I'll get you a tailoring with her today! Is dinner alright?"

Fred nodded, slowly picked Y/n up, putting her on the couch so he could give her a piggy back ride to her common room. "Hold on..."

Almost as if her sleeping body could hear it, Y/n's body tensed up, making it easier for Fred to carry.

So Fred walked out of the Gryffindor dormitories and started walking in the halls to go to the Hufflepuff common room.

The sun had barely risen, shining dull lights into the hallway and Fred felt Y/n shift in her sleep—ignoring how his skin fluttered as her breath rolled on top of it.

Fred almost stopped walking as Y/n shifted once more, making a small whimper, trying to pull her hand closer to her face.

"Chéri, if you move your hand, you're gonna fall—okay?" Fred said softly, adjusting his grip on her legs, making sure she wouldn't slip.

Y/n hummed in response, tucking her head on Fred's shoulder as he kept on walking.

Fred was halfway to the common room—walking slowly as to not wake up Y/n when he froze.

Having her thumb clasped between her fingers around Fred's chest, supporting her upper body weight—Fred felt her head twitching, needing something to soothe her to sleep.

Not wanting to have to explain the situation to the sleeping girl or disappoint Angelina—Fred adjusted the girl, now giving her a piggy-front, letting Y/n head sit comfortably against his neck.

Fred debated checking whether his face was on fire when the sleeping girl began to press little kisses on his neck, trying to substitute something for her thumb.

Fred continued walking, but why was he so flustered?

Maybe it’s his soulmate’s best friend.

What was her name again? Y/n?

Fred knocked on the Hufflepuff dorm door in the tune of Helga Hufflepuff. Before walking in and taking the stairs to the girl’s dormitory.

Trying not to feel awkward, he searched the dorm labels until he saw it.

______________

Girls Dorm #207

- Susan Bones

- Lia Diggory

- Y/n L/n

______________

Praising Merlin that she didn’t have too many roommates— He knocked on the door a few times, jumping up again to make sure Y/n didn’t slip.

"Hello?" A small voice asked, a very tired red head opened the door.

Fred gave an award smile. "I have a delivery?"

The girl smiled before letting him in and pointing at the empty bed and messed up desk.

Feed walked over, clutching on to Y/n as he quickly flipped the blanket open and tucked her instead. Y/n immediately latched onto the blankets.

Fred smiled before looking at her desk—tons of dress designs a long with tons of reminders everywhere when a certain one caught his eyes.

The Weasley Twins Inspired Dress

Curious, he picked up the sketch to see that she managed to make a confetti canon dress, inspired by that time he and George covered the Slytherin team in confetti right before a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff.

"I think you're cute together," Susan whispered bashfully, her cheeks pink.

"Oh no," her face fell when Fred denied it. "I already found my soulmate today."

"Oh I'm sorry." Susan apologised, combing her hair. "I just thought your h—never mind." She began to point at her neck before waving it off. "I assume you know how to take care of it?"

"Yeah! I'm planning on asking her to the yule ball!" Fred said, not having any idea what Susan was talking about.

"What? Ya know what—" Susan dug through her make up bag before grabbing Fred's arm and swatching some concealer shades. "You're lucky, you're my winter shade." Susan tossed Fred a concealer wand before shooing him out. "Bye!"

Holding onto the concealer, extremely confused, Fred walked back to him common room before going into the bathroom.

"Shit." Fred vocalised, realising why Susan Bones has thrown him concealer.

A light hickey lay on the side of his neck where Y/n had been.

Fred spent the next two hours trying to figure out how concealer worked.

He didn't understand it—instead opting for a scarf instead to cover up the blotchy disaster he created on his neck.

●●●

Y/n genuinely didn't question why she woke up in her bed and more concerned on her planner—you could see her running up and down the halls all day.

"Professor Moody, may I borrow Ron Weasley please?"

Ron showed her his suit for the ball. "Never mind, you're beyond help. Professor Moody, you can have him back." Y/n said, scribbling something out in her planner.

Taking the stairs, Y/n just started walking—flipping to the back of her planner to edit some sketches and ideas for dresses—not noticing the stair cases changing directions.

Walking up and down and sideways along the halls, Y/n kept walking until she bumped into someone.

"I'm so sorry!" She said automatically only to be shushed by two voices. "Huh—?"

""SHH!" Y/n looked at the two Weasley twins.

"Why?" She asked, looking around to see nobody.

"I don' know," Fred admitted.

"We're skipping, so I assume we have to be quiet." George finished.

The Hufflepuff scoffed. "I'm not skipping. I did all my work in advance so I could focus of the dress making." She looked down at the planner. "And on that note—you have a appointment with me in two minutes. We can't be late!"

"Does that mean you have the answers?" Fred asked as he got dragged away.

"We can discuss answers after we're on time for our session."

"If it's our appointment, how can we be late?"

Y/n sighed, shaking her head. “It’s fine we’re almost there, Willow’s gonna be upset.”

“Who?”

Y/n dragged Fred near a tree where a small desk, mannequins and color swatches were, Y/n thrust Fred upon a little platform until tree branches began to swing around chaotically.

“Willow! Calm down! This isn’t Ron! This is a different Weasley!” Y/n started yelling.

“Willow? As in the Whomping Willow?!”

“Stop moving!” Y/n snapped, petting the branches. “Willow didn’t like it when your brother nearly killed her with a car. I think she has like— Weasley trauma.”

Fred cackled. “Weasley trauma?” A tree branch slapped the back of his head. “Hey!”

“She’s very sensitive.” Y/n defended. “Speaking of Ron, please tell me your suit isn’t as hideous.”

“Don’t worry— I just have a normal suit… I wasn’t sure if I should’ve brought it so I just wore it—”

“That’s perfect. Mind shrugging off the jacket and scarf?”

Nervously, Fred took off the scarf and jacket, revealing the concealer mess on his neck.

“Oh sweetie, what the hell happened to your neck!” Y/n cooed. "Goodness, let me help you. You're gonna break out... Accio makeup kit!"

"I have every shade under the sun, I'm helping people with their makeup too." Y/n waved her hand down. "Get down, off." Y/n stepped onto the platform as Fred stepped off, facing Y/n.

Y/n took a makeup wipe and cleaned up the spot before taking out a whisk and spinning it on the hickey.

"When did you learn how to hide hickey? Does that even work?" Fred asked, watching the metal kitchen utensil.

"Oh hush, it's common knowledge." Y/n pushed his face away, continuing to whisk. "It helps the blood disperse. Next time, put ice on it before it bruises."

Shade matching and blending it in, Y/n hoped Fred couldn't hear her heart beating out of her chest as she finished hiding the red mark. "See? Like it never even happened."

Willow presented a mirror for Fred to see for himself, thank god because that scarf was very itchy.

"Now, how much are we thinking off the tie?" Y/n held up a tape measure and a sharpie, tucking the sharpie behind her ear. "It supposed to be around your belt buckle...Do you feel comfortable with it over here?"

Fred nodded, looking at her in the mirror more than him. Why hadn't he seen her more often? Has she been friends with Angelina for a long time?

"Lovely...okay do you mind if I take this?" Y/n took the colorful tie off Fred and held it up to Willow." Willow, this is Fred's tie." Willow held onto the tie.

"Okay just one second..." Y/n brought out a sheet of brown fabric and a sheet of black fabric and hopped onto the platform with him. She pulled the black one around half of his chest and the brown one around the other half.

"Okay so I think the brown is more flattering on you, I feel like you look paler with the black one—Hey!"

Fred's head started tilting to one side as he imagined Angelina and her hanging out—still in disbelief he had actually found his soulmate.

Y/n grabbed his jaw and moved it so that it faced her. "Sorry, I just need to see—" Y/n furrowed her eyebrows confused as Fred pointed at something in the distance behind her.

Y/n looked behind her only for her jaw to pulled back and facing Fred, pulling the same move she had accidentally done to him. "Touché," She smiled—desperately hoping she wasn't blushing.

"How long have you friends with Angelina?" Fred asked, snapping Y/n out of her mental freakout.

"Oh—uh, since first year. We met on the train." Y/n cast a spell to turn Fred's suit brown. "Yeah that looks better—you looked like you were going to a funeral."

“Then why do I never see you guys hang out?”

Y/n thinks before answering. “I like to keep myself busy, that or I just eat in the kitchen.”

“Why not hang out with Angelina?”

“Uh- Well Alicia and I don’t really get along so I don’t want to make it weird for Angelina. Besides, most of the time Angelina hangs out with me in the kitchen.”

So that’s why Fred never sees Angelina in the Great hall. “Why the kitchen?”

“Because the house elves love me.” Y/n smiled, writing her to do list. “Besides, I like baking.”

Fred stepped off the platform and watched Y/n write. “Do you bake any of the food in the Great Hall?”

“The brownies, but sometimes I also cook the ribs but I like baking more than cooking.”

Fred loves the brownies, he eats them every time they show up on the table.

“Speaking of food… It’s dinner, you better hurry before all the seats are taken.” Y/n starting putting things away and getting out a dress presumingly belonging to her next appointment.

Fred stepped off the small platform, checking his covered hickey once more before starting to turn around. "You aren't going to dinner?"

"Maybe later." She responded quickly, casting a spell on the dress. "Not hungry. " She said briefly. "You can pick up your tie by like tomorrow."

"Alright then, I'll see you around?"

"Sure. Angelina! Can you grab that?" A piece of fabric swirled away in the wind near an approaching Angelina.

Fred walked away, happy with his day and his fitting appointment.

(A/N lmao I have nooooo idea how to end these. Part two could be ready tomorrow or in 3 months, we'll see.)

#fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #angst with a happy ending #light angst #fluff #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #harry potter #harry potter fandom #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fic #idk what im doing #hufflepuff reader #wizarding world #soulmate au

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supernovafics · 6 months

Note

Super random silly idea but for the I’ll be there for you universe I was thinking it would be so cute if reader and Steve chaperoned one of the kids school dances and got all dressed up for it :)

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.2k words

warnings: explicit language, fluff

summary: in which you and steve help chaperone a school dance for the kids

author's note: loved this request idea! thank you thank you !!

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Spring 1986

Dustin suggested the idea only days before the dance, and even with the short notice you were still agreeing. And you were forcing Steve to agree too, even though he actually didn’t need that much convincing.

You both thought that seeing all of the kids get dressed up and go to a school dance would be adorable, and chaperoning along with a handful of teachers and a few parents didn’t sound too bad.

In the beginning of the night you were designated to punchbowl duty, and you and Steve stayed together until he was being pulled away to help fix a decoration that had fallen, and then he got roped into doing a bunch of other things. When you saw him helping the gym teacher move a table, your eyes met his and you gave him a sorry but encouraging smile.

As the night started winding down, the punchbowl became empty— and since there was only an hour left of the dance, it would not be getting refilled— and you decided to simply linger on the sidelines, listening to the unfamiliar sounding pop songs and watching random kids have what looked like a good time dancing and talking. And then your gaze focused on the group of teens that you knew and loved; Will was talking animatedly about something and everyone else was smiling and laughing at whatever he was saying.

You felt a pair of arms circle around you from behind, a touch that you immediately recognized as Steve’s. The feel of his warmth enveloping you in the simple embrace was entirely familiar and never failed to comfort you.

“Hi,” He murmured in your ear.

“Hi,” You said as you instinctually leaned into his touch. The heels you were wearing to match the formless of the night made it easy for him to lean his chin against your shoulder. “Glad to see that you’ve finally managed to get away from moving tables and fixing the ‘Spring Fling’ sign.”

“I was almost forced to help fix one of the chairs that broke, but I made up an excuse about needing to use the bathroom, and I hope that he just does it without me or forgets about it.”

“Only one more hour until we can leave.”

“And I can’t wait,” He told you and then his mouth was brushing right against your ear as he quietly said his next statement. “Mainly because I’m really excited to pull this dress off of you.”

His words sent something equivalent to a shiver down your spine and at first all you could do was smile shyly.

From the second you were exiting your bedroom and Steve was seeing you for the first time that night, he was admiring and complimenting what you were wearing; a short sleeve cream-colored dress that subtly flared out at your waist and ended just a few inches above your knee. I need to get you out of this immediately, were his first words to you, and it was a demand that you wouldn’t have minded abiding by if you two weren’t already running late to the dance, so you instead quickly shut it down.

“Shh, stop,” You whispered to him now, attempting to make your voice sound as serious as possible. “Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself for now, Harrington.”

He laughed at that and only pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head in response.

The pop song that was playing switched to a slow one and everyone on the basketball court designated dance floor started pairing off. You smiled when you noticed Mike and El, and Lucas and Max joining the other pairs.

“They look really cute out there,” You said, leaning further into Steve and tilting your head to let it rest against his. “Reminds me of when we slow danced at our proms.”

“Thinking about it now, it probably should’ve been so obvious that we were into each other then.”

You nodded and laughed a bit. “Very.”

Steve’s arms dropped from your waist and he instead grabbed one of your hands, and turned you so that you were facing him. “Come on, let’s walk around for a bit.”

You teasingly smiled up at him. “We’re supposed to be watching everyone. Y’know, chaperoning.”

“No one will notice if we’re gone for a few minutes,” He was already leading you out of the gym and you let him.

Hand in hand, you two walked down one of the empty hallways, they were unfamiliar to you but the opposite to him. You could count on one hand how many times you had roamed the halls of Hawkins High School; each time it had mainly been to find a bathroom during one of Steve’s basketball games or swim meets.

“Where was your locker?” You asked him, suddenly very curious about the mundane fact that you didn’t know the answer to.

Steve laughed a bit. “What?”

“Where was it? I’m just realizing that I don’t know that.”

“We went to different schools, so it makes sense why we wouldn’t know that about each other,” He said, but then still decided to answer your question. He turned a corner and led you down a different hallway, and then pointed to the clump of lockers at the end. “Mine was at the end.”

“What number?”

“224.”

“Okay,” You nodded thoughtfully. “Got it.”

Steve was simply smiling amusingly at you, and you knew that he probably thought you were at least a little bit insane for being so interested in this random fact.

“What? This is important information to know just in case I ever have to give a speech about you or something,” You told him. “I’ll be able to say, Steve Harrington was a great best friend and awesome boyfriend. He had locker 224 for all four years of high school.”

He laughed a little before leaning in to kiss you. It was quick and you were smiling into it and then up at him when he pulled back.

“What was yours?”

“165.”

He nodded. “Okay, I’ll include that in my speech for you too.”

“Good,” You joked. “Actually, this information might be wedding vow material.”

“Very, very true,” He responded, playfully smiling at you.

Lightheartedly talking about the future— an inevitable engagement, wedding, marriage, etc.— had easily become a part of your and Steve’s banter. It was always spoken about jokingly, but it also felt obvious that neither of you entirely saw it as a joke. Because it did feel the tiniest bit real that eventually, one day, you two would get to that point— to the point of marriage, kids, and a kind of seriousness that warmed your heart and made you feel entirely at ease. You could so easily see yourself having that sort of life with Steve, and in some ways you already did have it.

You gave his hand a light squeeze, and let that simple action say what you wouldn’t right then because you didn’t want to get super sentimental; although Steve always loved when you did and would only playfully make fun of you for doing so. He squeezed your hand back and then pulled your intertwined palms up to press a soft kiss to the back of yours, silently telling you that he understood you and your heart squeezed in response.

Steve led you toward a random door at the end of a different hallway, and then he was letting go of your hand to pull the door open and let you in first. It was dark for the most part— the only light was coming from the bright streetlights that could be seen out the large windows— and neither of you made any attempt to find the light switch. You quickly noticed the many, many bookshelves and tables neatly scattered around the huge room.

“The library?” You asked, turning to lean back against one of the empty tables and giving him an amused smile. “You wanna study, Steven?”

He was quickly closing most of the distance between you two and his hands found your hips. “Nope, no studying.”

“Okay,” You simply nodded and then easily pushed up onto the table. Steve immediately moved closer and settled between your now parted legs, which made you inwardly smile at his eagerness.

Your arms came up to loosely circle his neck and you were looking up at him for just the briefest of seconds before his mouth was hurriedly finding yours and your eyes were slipping shut. You were reminded of the first time this had ever happened, back in your bed at the cabin in Colorado, and you also thought about the second time, at home in the kitchen. Actually, anytime you kissed Steve like this you were reminded of those moments— the certainty you both felt, but there was still such a newness to it all. You adored that feeling, and you especially loved how it would always settle into something so comforting and familiar after only a few moments.

You were pulling away when you needed to catch your breath. Your eyes were still closed but you knew Steve well enough to know that his mouth would immediately find your neck, kissing your skin and teasingly sucking the sensitive spot right at the underside of your jaw. Any other time, you would've happily let him do it; in fact, you probably would’ve begged for it. But in this moment, your hands found his chest and stopped him because you didn’t want to get stuck with a hickey that you would have no way of covering up for the next hour.

Steve laughed as he pressed a kiss against the side of your mouth. “I wouldn’t have left one this time. I promise.”

“I love you, but I don’t believe that.”

He jokingly shook his head in disbelief and let out a playful scoff. “We’ve known each other for almost ten years, where’s the trust?”

You only shrugged in response and had to bite your lip to hold back the laugh that you wanted to let out. Steve easily read through the half-hearted shrug and instead of keeping the little game going, he poked your side, which did make you laugh.

Him smiling at your laughter and the fond look on his face right then reminded you of an older time, a different time when he was obsessed with doing anything to make you laugh and you loved to do the same for him. A sort of competition formed during the summer before your Sophomore year of high school where you two kept count about how much you made the other person laugh. After barely a week, accurately keeping score became much harder than you both thought it would be so you two decided to end the game by simply calling it a tie— although Steve loved to say that it was him who, in fact, won.

Abruptly thinking back to that memory and then being brought back to this moment also made you think of something else.

“Hey… Do you ever think that it was dumb of us to not start dating sooner?” Your gaze held his as the question left your lips. You weren’t entirely sure why it was on your mind right then. Maybe it was being in his old high school and peeking back into that life that made you feel a mix of nostalgic and a bit regretful. “Like, we could’ve been happier sooner or whatever if we realized years ago…”

Steve shook his head first before pressing the softest kiss against your forehead. “I’ve thought about that too, but I honestly think it was meant to happen this way.”

You found yourself agreeing with the simplicity of his response. It was supposed to happen exactly like this— slowly, years and years worth of obliviousness and internal denials, and then it hitting you both so suddenly, all at once, and finally not wanting to shy away from it.

“You’re right,” You told him and didn’t give him a chance to potentially say anything in response before you were pulling him back toward you and meeting his lips halfway.

He squeezed your hips and pulled you to the edge of the table, keeping you impossibly close and you didn’t mind that at all, your own fingers hooked in the belt loops of his black pants in attempts to keep him close to you too. You even let his lips find your neck after a moment and trusted him that no hickeys would be left in his wake. Your fingers were itching to slowly unbutton the white shirt he was wearing or to let his hands loosen their grip on your hips and slip beneath your dress that now sat dangerously high on your thighs. You were really close to throwing rational thinking out of the window and letting both of those things happen, but you knew that you couldn’t.

“We should probably head back to the gym,” You mumbled when minutes that only felt like seconds passed. You decided to let the logical side of your brain finally take over. “Before anyone notices we’re gone. Especially the kids. They’d have a field day with this one.”

Steve pulled away from your neck, lightly chuckling against your skin, and nodded. You fought the urge to simply bring his mouth back to yours in another languid and heart pounding kiss that would once again make you feel weak in the knees.

“You’re right,” His hand was finding yours and lacing your fingers together and then he gave you a tiny hint of a smirk. “I really can’t wait to go home.”

You nodded immediately and smiled up at him. “Me too.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington series #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader smut #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things series

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daisies-daydreams · 1 year

Note

141 + König reaction to seeing you changing? Or walking out the communal shower

Pairing: 141 + König x Reader Category: Fluff/Semi-Smut (18+) Warnings: Nudity, Swearing, Sexual Themes Word Count: 900+

A/N: Hello hello! 😀 Thank you for your request. I hope you don't mind, but some of them are in a more domestic setting. I hope you enjoy!

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Captain John Price

John rubbed his tired eyes, his body wracked with exhaustion. All he wanted to do was shower and slip into bed next to his beautiful wife. John yawned as he walked into the bedroom, and you just so happened to be changing just as he opened the door. You froze as the towel you were wearing fell to the floor.

“John,” you breathed, your face flushing. John felt something stir inside him as his eyes raked over your wet, luscious body. John grinned as he made his way over and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, his arms pulling you close to his body. Your eyes closed as you rested your lips against his, his hands wandering along the expanse of your back. Both of you gasped for air when he finally pulled back.

“Missed you so much, hun,” John beamed. You sighed and cupped his scruffy cheek.

“Missed you, too,” you cooed. He peppered your neck with kisses before tilting his head up.

“Why don’t we enjoy ourselves a little before we head to bed, yeah?” he husked into your ear.

John “Soap” MacTavish

Soap whistled as he walked down the hall, his headphones snug in his ears. He went out on his daily morning jog around the base when it suddenly started to pour. He bopped his head along to the beat of the song as he rounded the corner. He sighed as he opened the door to his quarters and slammed it shut behind him, distracted by the way his shirt clung to him.

“Ack, hate it when it’s pishing it doon,” he huffed. Soap raised his shirt above his head. He froze when his gaze met you. Your face lost all color as you stood in front of him-your pants and panties resting on the floor. Soap’s face quickly turned a deep shade of red as he covered his eyes, though made no effort to leave.

“GET OUT!” you shrieked as you threw a sock at him. It bounced off his body as he spun around, quickly making his way out of your room. Even though the blush persisted, Soap couldn’t help but notice how his cock began to throb in his pants. He swallowed thickly as he rushed towards his actual quarters...having to take care of a different problem.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Simon lowered the weights onto the rack, the muscles in his arms bulging from the intense workout. He wiped his forehead with a rag before heading towards the locker rooms.

“Let’s see-gotta head to the store after dinner, then go to the meeting…” he ran through his to-do list in his head, not paying attention to which locker room he was strolling into. The room was fairly empty, so he walked straight to his locker. He twirled the knob several times, frustration building inside him when it refused to unlock.

He scoffed and turned around, freezing when he came face to face with you. Your headphones coincidentally popped out just as he met your gaze. Your lips parted as a small squeak left them, a towel snugly wrapped around your body. Ghost felt heat rise to his cheeks as he turned on his heel.

“Sorry,” he muttered before shuffling out the door. Despite his composure, Ghost felt himself crumbling at the thought of being this close to seeing you naked.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Gaz threw his keys into a bowl resting on the table in the front room.

“Babe? I’m home!” he called as he set his pack next to the couch. He hummed when he was answered by silence. He walked down the hall, pushing the bedroom door open. You locked eyes with him as you shrugged your bra off of your shoulders. Heat rose up to his ears as he eyed your bare breasts.

“K-Ky,” you stammered as you crossed your arms over your tits. A wry grin stretched across Gaz’s face as he walked over to you. He cupped your face as he pulled you in for a kiss, his mouth hungrily tasting you. Your arms slipped away from your chest, your hands falling to his lower back.

Gaz nibbled on your bottom lip before pulling back, drinking in your entire body. You wiggled in his hold as he sucked on your neck, drawing a hickey over your pulse.

“Mind if I help you out with the rest?” his lips danced over your ear as his fingers played with the hem of your pants.

König

König blinked a few times, drifting in and out of sleep as he rested his cheek against his hand. The debriefing took longer than expected, the Captain’s voice droning on and on without pause. The giant man stretched and sighed in relief once it was finally over. He padded down the hall, his mind fuzzy with exhaustion. König slipped into his room, grabbing a fresh pair of clothes and a towel before heading to the communal showers. He stripped himself of his clothes and pulled back the curtains. He grunted when someone much smaller than him bumped into his rugged body.

“Tschuldigung*,” König mumbled. His throat tightened when saw you staring up at him with wide eyes, your body completely wet and stark naked. He felt his entire body stiffen as you pulled the shower curtain against yourself. [*Translation: Sorry]

That’s when König realized-he wasn’t wearing his mask. He gasped and covered his face, not realizing there was another area that he would potentially wish to conceal. He scrambled around, nearly slipping on the tiled floor as he spun towards the wall. He cracked his fingers apart, only to see you again.

"S-Sorry!" he stumbled over the word as he quickly searched for his pile of fresh clothes. He rushed back to his quarters with the towel wrapped around his hips. König ran his hands down his face as embarrassment and something else stirred inside of him.

___

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Tags: @tr4psta @notthatfanfictionwriter

1K notes · View notes

ryuluvr · 2 months

Text

sit.

(wlw, smut 18+)

warnings: dom!arle, sub!reader, praise, degradation, fingering, shoe riding, hints of bdsm + pet play, power imbalance, pet names, slight eating out, marking, quickie with a hottie type vibes.

word count: 2.3k

summary: you were hired by arlecchino as a maid at the house, but some of your duties weren’t exactly standard for your role.

notes: i did try to proof read this but ended up drinking wine before i even finished writing so if theres any mistakes i apologise! <3

you kept your attention on the surface you were cleaning, spray in one hand while a cloth was gripped in the other, softly humming the first song that popped into your mind. it’s normal for you to be left alone on the job, but it felt especially lonely this week with your boss arlecchino away for various business meetings. despite her presence making you nervous, you couldnt help but miss the way her eyes would burn into your skin as she observed the way you thoroughly cleaned around the house, desperately doing the best you could to show her you were capable of doing a good job for her. just a small part of you hoped for some praise, though not many words seem to fall past arlecchino’s lips when it comes to anyone who resides here.

she was due to come back any day now, but it wasn’t your business to know such information. you tirelessly cleaned from hour to hour, mopping floors and polishing desks alongside what felt like a long list of tasks you almost regretted signing up for half the time. though, the job paid well, and that was enough to motivate you.

while dusting and polishing some shelves, the sound of expensive high heels echoed through the hallway outside the room. it took you several moments to remember whose shoes they belonged to, your eyes widening as you frantically brushed down your maid dress to make sure you looked presentable. a spine chilling draft followed arlecchino as she swung open her office door, stepping through before letting it slowly fall shut behind her, not even giving you a slither of a glance. you weren’t even sure she saw you standing there.

arlecchino parted her lips to deeply exhale, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger as if to try and relax herself. a large pile of papers slammed down onto the side of her dark oak desk and she took a seat by it, looking completely deep in thought. you naturally paused, the silence in her office so deafening you felt like breathing would be too loud. your gaze fixated on her, noticing the black and deep red suit she was wearing. moments passed and arlecchino glanced up through her lashes, settling on your maid dress before trailing up to your face. her expression immediately changed, leaning back in her chair after crossing her arms over her chest. it was beyond embarrassing you had to wear such an outfit for this job, but deep down you knew it was entirely for this womans enjoyment and who were you to protest against it?

“did you forget entering this room is forbidden? i thought i taught you better than this.” arlecchino’s tone was cold and sharp. she placed one leg over the other, her head tilting a few degrees to the right as she shot you an almost cocky smile.

you weren’t supposed to be in here by any means, but the door was unlocked so you foolishly let yourself in, more curious about what items were in here than what you could clean. you turned on your heel and suddenly faced your back to her, pretending to wipe your finger across the shelf to check for dust despite already having cleaned it spotlessly. no excuse came to mind quick enough before your boss spoke up again, this time her voice softer.

“i’ll let you off. it’s my fault after all for being so careless with the lock.” her words were followed by yet another sigh, the sound of her fidgeting with pens and papers on the desk caused you to relax.

after picking up some supplies from the wooden floor you got back to work, careful not to miss a single spec of dust on anything you tried to clean in the office. naturally, you zoned out, working entirely on aeroplane mode, until arlecchino’s voice made you come back to reality.

“i’d say i made a good choice picking out such an outfit for you. you definitely pull it off better than the last maids i hired.” her tone was full of authority and confidence. “although, it wasn’t like they lasted long enough for me to enjoy the sight of it how i’d like.”

slightly confused, you turned your head to the left to look at her, but her eyes were practically glued to her paperwork.

“i think you did a good job, too, ma’am.” sucking up to her wasn’t something you have ever been proud of, but there was just something about her that captivated you. you constantly feel like you have to work for her attention, and you rarely get it but still, you try.

arlecchino hummed in response, clearly amused but also a little shocked by your agreement.

“such a pretty little thing, hm?”

your cheeks immediately burned with blush, turning to a deep pink shade enough to show through your makeup. a shy “thank you” was all you could get out before arlecchino’s chuckle echoed around her office. she absolutely loved to toy with you.

“so sweet, too.”

you chose to ignore her words, making your way to the other side of the room, your mary jane shoes hitting against the floorboards with every step. after wiping several surfaces you heard arlecchino click her fingers in your direction and you responded immediately by turning to face her with your hands neatly by your sides. she decided to stay silent for a few more moments which only made you more nervous, gesturing you to walk to her with a simple ‘come here’ motion with her long slender fingers. you obliged with zero hesitation, placing your supplies back on the floor and approaching her with a sweet smile.

you stood motionless to her left and she swivelled in her chair to face you. the silence was yet again uncomfortable, and you could practically see arlecchino sizing up both you and the situation, she loudly cleared her throat as she pointed to the floor by her feet, raising a single eyebrow as she watched you like a hawk. your expression showed pure confusion but you did what you thought your boss wanted, getting down on your knees and sitting on top of your heels.

arlecchino’s dominant hand reached down to tightly grip your chin and move your head up to face her, a cocky grin plastered on her face.

“you’re like a little house pet. my own personal puppy.” the older woman cooed, examining every feature she possible could, from your nose to your lips to your eyes once more. "obedient puppy girl. i like it."

arlecchino could see the redness of your cheeks growing darker with each word that escaped her soft lips, uncrossing her legs so she could be more comfortable. without much warning she let go of your face, leaving a red mark from her tight grip before slowly slipping one foot under your maid dress. she admired the way it sat so pretty over your lap, flicking the frills up from time to time as if she was playing with her food. her lack of words felt scary, but your mind was so empty you chose to match her silence, the only thing either of you could hear were each others quiet breaths.

she soon slid her foot further underneath, the top of her dark high heel shoes pressing up against your core making you gasp softly.

"arle.. ma'am, i don't think-" your words were cut short when arlecchino began slowly moving her foot against you. you noticed her devilish gaze on your body, taking in the way the maid dress hugged your figure perfectly to her delight. a low moan left you, leaning forward with your hands on the floor to properly sustain yourself.

your boss continued her pace, her expression unchangeable, attentively watching you give in and begin grinding yourself against her shoe. while red with sheer embarrassment, a significantly louder whine escaped you, being met with another cocky laugh from arlecchino.

your clit began throbbing more with every second, biting down on your bottom lip to help suppress any noise as you quickened your movements.

"look at you.." arlecchino began, her voice laced with fake sympathy, "so pathetic getting off on my shoe. it's ironic you're making such a mess for me. such a dumb little pet, i should collar you, hm?"

her words made your entire body shudder, trying to desperately chase an orgasm until the older woman pulled her foot away and ordered you to get up off your knees which were red sore from the wooden floor. she pushed the papers on her desk aside without a single care after standing up from her seat. she practically pulled at your arm to position you between her and her desk, her grip so tight her fingernails left crescent marks in your soft skin, but you didn't mind.

she wasted no time connecting her lips to your jawline, peppering wet kisses all along it before moving to your neck. she ran her tongue along your skin before sucking at it with the intent of leaving a mark, which it most definitely did. she continued several times, making sure to cover your neck and collarbones that only just poked out from your maid dress. her hands moved to your hips with urgency, tightly holding onto you and forcing your body closer to hers as if she was intoxicated with your scent and couldn't get enough.

her breath was hot against your ear as she spoke to you as low as a whisper. "i wonder if you taste as good as you look, doll."

with that she pushed you back onto her desk more gentle than you expected, lifting up your dress to reveal your soaked panties that quickly got thrown to the floor. your slick-covered core glistened in the office light making arlecchino take her two fingers to catch your juices by your entrance. you naturally lifted your thighs and parted them for the other woman, rewarding you with sweet praise.

"good girl. so eager and ready for me." you whined at her words as you begged internally for her to touch you, your wishes being met when she enveloped your clit with her soft lips. she sucked lightly while looking up at you through her long dark lashes, focusing entirely on your expressions. various moans left your mouth, arlecchino humming with delight against your sensitive bundle of nerves making the pleasure feel more intense immediately.

she carefully slid a finger in, testing the waters before adding a second, knowing you could easily take it. the older woman began pumping in and out of you as you arched your back up against her desk, knocking items every time you moved but neither of you cared.

"i was right, you taste so good, baby." arlecchino's voice practically vibrated against your core, your pornographic moans filling the room. anyone that happened to walk by would easily hear you.

she started peppering light kisses to your swollen clit simply to tease you as she worked her fingers inside you, hissing when she felt your walls clench around her letting her know you were already close.

"dirty girl, can barely hold it together for me... tsk tsk." her voice was full of fake disappointment, her fingers moving quicker now while her eyes fixated on you. the sight of you coming undone in front of her was enough to make her quietly groan, and she couldn't get over how stunning you looked. "cum on my fingers, love. i got you, that's it. good girl."

arlecchino's thumb traced circles against your sensitive clit, her free hand lifting up to grip your inner thigh. her long nails dug into your skin like before on your arms. one of your hands trailed up your body to cover your face while the other gripped the edge of the wooden desk, your knuckles turning white from the pressure.

you immediately tensed up and let out the most obscene moans possible, cumming onto her fingers with such intensity it had you seeing stars. your orgasm shuddered through your entire body, arlecchino eventually slowing down her pace to help you ride out your high. the older woman slowly removed her two fingers from inside of you and brought them up to her lips, sucking them clean followed by a light hum. to your surprise she pressed a light kiss on your overly sensitive clit causing your entire body to twitch under her, a devilish laugh escaping her lips as she stood up straight. you were both greeted by a hard knock at arlecchino's office door and your boss sighed as she pulled down your dress to cover you and helped you back up onto your feet. after gesturing towards your panties sitting on the floor to be cleaned up, arlecchino spoke up for only you to hear.

"you're lucky other people don't just walk in here like you do." she teased, tilting her head to one side while caressing your cheek with a softness you haven't felt from her before. the way her eyes met yours made you melt, and the look in them spoke volumes. you could barely process what just happened and your mind still felt foggy.

after what felt like minutes lost in arlecchino's crimson eyes, you bent down to slip your panties back on and adjust your clothing, suddenly realising whoever was at the door most definitely heard you moments before. you carefully picked up your supplies and opened the door, keeping your head down as you rushed out into the hallway, the sound of the other person rambling about a business meeting eventually becoming just a distant noise. all you could think about was the next time arlecchino would call you into her office.

#genshin smut #arlecchino fanfic #arlecchino #arlecchino smut #the knave #wlw smut #wlw post #wlw nsft #wlw ns/fw #sapphic nsft #lesbian nsft #queer nsft #genshin nsft #lesbian fanfic #lesbian #lesbianism #wlw concepts #sapphic smut #video game smut

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sweetprfct · 4 months

Note

Okey, I just saw your re-post of the music video of expresso by Sabrina Carpenter. And it occurred to me (bc you do a great job basing fics on songs) that you should write a fic of Joe head over heals for reader based on the song of expresso. Just giving you and idea, if you don't want to is totally Okey ❤️

Espresso

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joe's thinking about you every night. Is it that sweet? You guess so.

Author's Note: To celebrate 300 followers, here's a little gift. Thank you all for the love! Currently, I have been obsessed with this song and Sabrina. So, I'm so glad that you requested this! Thank you for this! Enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: 18+, smut

Wordcount: 2.1K

It was midnight.

Joe had been tossing and turning for about an hour already, and he couldn’t seem to sleep at all. He took a deep breath and turned his body so that he was laying on his back and gazed up at the ceiling. The light from the lamp post outside slightly reflected through the crack of his window curtains. The night was quiet, and his mind kept pondering about the thought of you.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Joe whispered through your bare skin as he left repeated kisses on your bare back.

You giggled softly, looking over your shoulder. You were laying on your stomach, and Joe had moved himself closer to you. His fingers gently tugging on the duvet to expose your bare back, his lips finding your soft skin. He planted soft kisses all over your back, his long lashes tickled your skin as his fingers stroked your back softly.

“I can’t get enough of you, I swear.” Joe murmured.

Chuckling softly, you turned your body to face him. Joe hovered over you as you pulled the duvet closer to your chest. He grinned happily as he leaned down and kissed you softly. His hands slowly slid the duvet away from your naked body and his hands roamed your sides. A small moan escaped your lips as he parted from the kiss and trailed his lips down and traced the line of your jaw. Then, his lips found your neck as he sucked on the skin lightly, making you moan again in his ear.

“God, I love that sound.” He murmured through the kiss.

“Hmm…” Smiling through the kiss, you curled your fingers through his hair and pulled him down close to you.

Joe pressed his face on your chest, planting a soft kiss on it. If anyone would ask him, he would prefer to stay in your arms forever. He could happily stay here and just indulge in every part of you. However, that was not how life works. So now, he was laying in his bed alone and couldn’t sleep at night because all he could think about was you. All he could think about was your soft skin under his touch. The sounds you would make in his ear, and your soft lips on his skin and his lips.

God, he was so head over heels.

He didn’t even realize it until now. You were running in his mind 24/7 and when he tried to push the thought of you away, he only missed you even more. Grabbing his phone from the bedside table, he saw that it was 12:30 am already. Pursing his lips, he opened up his messages and stared at the screen for a moment.

Still awake?

He sent the message and waited. After a few minutes, he saw the three bubbles popping up on the screen. A smile immediately tugged on his lips.

You were working late because you had some reports that still needed to finish. Your mind has been somewhere else, and you have been trying so hard not to stress too much about your work. Though, here you were up late and finishing up reports for work. When your phone vibrated next to you on your desk, and you saw Joe’s name appear on your screen, you immediately grinned happily. You needed a little distraction after a long day.

Still working. Why are you still awake?

The text message that you sent to Joe sent a warm feeling in his stomach as he smiled at your text.

Can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about you.

Biting your lower lip, you grinned at his message. You couldn’t help but think how the last two months that you have been seeing Joe, you have been so happy. You didn’t even care about the fact that your friends kept telling you to be careful because he was an actor. That he might just immediately change his mind and find someone else. Though, that wasn’t what it was at all.

From the way he kept calling you every night, you didn’t have the time to feel insecure at all. He kept telling you that he was always thinking about you, and he couldn’t even sleep because he only wanted to be next to you.

He was too sweet.

You couldn’t relate to the desperation that your friends would act when it came to their boyfriends.

Aww! :( Want me to come over?

You bit your nails, grinning cheekily as you waited for him to answer. Joe, who immediately sat up on his bed, reached over to turn his lamp on. He stared at your text and then shifted his eyes towards his clock on his bedside table.

Yes, please.

He stared at the text for a moment before deleting it. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he acting like a 16 year old boy? At his big age too. He couldn’t help but chuckle at himself for acting so stupid over you. Rubbing his forehead softly, he stared at his screen and didn’t know what to reply to your text. He never acted like this before, not even with his exes. He didn’t know what it was that he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about you. He couldn’t sleep because of you. He kept thinking about how beautiful you were. He kept thinking how smart you were and such a hard worker. He couldn’t really describe it, but he was just so deep in his feelings for you since you two had started seeing each other. He was feeling so drunk of you like he had drunk ten espresso shots every night before bed.

It’s okay. It’s late. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?

He typed the text message and sent it to you. He was right though. It was literally past midnight, and he was bothering you because he couldn’t sleep.

What an idiot.

Exhaling a sharp breath, he set his phone down on his bedside table and gazed up at the ceiling again. After a few minutes of silence and no reply, he figured you had fallen asleep. His mind wandered back again at the thought of you.

“Don’t be cheeky.” Joe laughed, pressing his face on your neck.

You had told him a dirty joke, and he couldn’t stop laughing. The way he was literally hooked with your humor all the time. The one little joke made him all flushed and flustered that he was hiding his face from you.

“That’s not fair. Don’t hide your cute face from me.” You grinned, lifting his head and cupping his face between your hands.

Joe’s chocolate button eyes sparkled as he gazed down at you with a loving smile. You loved seeing him like this, and you certainly love the fact that you could make him act like this.

Sighing, Joe closed his eyes and pushed the memory away.

He needed to sleep.

This was getting ridiculous.

Pulling the duvet closer to him, Joe settled himself comfortably in his bed and closed his eyes. He forced himself to really sleep and as soon as he started drifting off, he felt the mattress of the empty side of his bed dip. For a moment, he thought he was just dreaming. Then, familiar arms wrapped around his torso, and he knew exactly who it was even if his eyes were closed.

He was thanking his little stars that he gave you that spare key for his flat.

“It’s late.” He murmured, holding in his smile as he pulled you closer to his body.

You let out a soft approving hum, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. Even in the dark, you could see his beautiful facial features as you softly stroked his cheek with your fingers.

“You can’t sleep lately.” You whispered. “I’m worried about that.”

“It’s your fault, you know.” Joe teased.

You laughed softly, moving yourself on top of him, straddling his hips.

“Yea?” You trailed kisses on the line of his jaw and then down his neck.

Joe had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from moaning. He swore if he was dreaming right now, he would hate his brain in the morning for giving this much of a vivid dream about you. He was already folding for you, and his brain was now betraying him even more?

This was so foul of his dreams to do to him.

“Yes.” Joe gasped the word as you ran your hands down his bare chest. “I think I’ve gone mad.”

You smiled through his skin as his fingers curled around the strands of your hair as you kissed his bare chest. You loved that you could wrap him up around your finger, and he would just fold under every kiss you left on his skin. You never had anyone act like this over you, and you were enjoying every minute of it.

He was adorable like this.

“Hm…” You smiled, grinding against his hard member that was between your legs. “I can help you lose your mind even more.”

Joe’s fingers immediately curled at the back of your head, pulling you down for a hungry kiss. Smiling, you giggled softly through the kiss as he tugged on your shirt and pulled it over your head. Soon, he was tugging on your pants too and it joined the rest of your clothes on the floor.

You reached your hand down to grab his member, wrapping your fingers around it and slowly slid himself inside of you. Both of you gasped softly as you helped him thrust inside of you. His lips were sloppily kissing you, his tongue licking your bottom lip.

“Shit…” Joe groaned softly as he trailed kisses down your neck.

Your hands found his headboard as your pace quickened, and it only made Joe moan louder as he found his lips on your nipple, sucking on it softly.

“Ah—Joe.” You arched your back as he moved deeper inside of you.

He could hear your voice sounding distorted and far away as he continued to suck your nipple and then trailed his lips up on your neck, sucking the skin softly there. He wasn’t the kind of man that loved to leave a love mark, but he couldn’t help but leave one on your neck and then on your chest. You moaned softly as you leaned down and buried your face on his neck, feeling your walls tightened around him.

“Love, you’re so tight.” He moaned.

You kissed him hungrily as he thrusted faster inside of you, your legs trembling and feeling the pleasure build up in your stomach. Joe had forgotten everything around him. He had forgotten what time it was. He had forgotten about the fact that this all started because he couldn’t sleep because he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

You were here.

You were really here.

You were in his arms, and you were making him forget his name. He could feel the pleasure build up in his stomach as he flipped the both of you over, and he was hovering over you. He thrusted deeper and faster inside of you, your toes were curling and your nails were scratching down his bare back.

“Come for me.” You whispered in his ear, making Joe tremble from the way your voice sounded in his ear.

He usually was the one who was able to make his exes feel like this but with you, he was weak. He would do anything for you. He never felt this way about anyone before. With shaky hands, he reeled you in his arms and pressed your body against his flushed one.

“Right there, baby.” You moaned in his ear. “Don’t stop.”

You gasped, your nails digging into his skin deeper as pleasure crashed over the both of you. Stars exploding at the back of your eyes as you screamed his name. Both of your bodies shuddered, both panting together as Joe collapsed his heavy body against yours.

“Holy shit.” Joe cursed under his breath, still panting. “You’re literally amazing.”

You smiled, trying to catch your breath. You stroked his curly hair away from his sweaty forehead and planted a soft kiss there.

“Now, you could sleep.” You joked, making Joe scoff at your little comment.

“No.” He whispered, pressing his face on your neck and nibbled on the skin lightly. “We’re gonna be up all night.”

You grinned widely, flipping the both of you over so you were on top of him again.

“Hmm… Don’t challenge me.” You smiled deviously under the dark.

“You’re the one who’s been keeping me up all night, so don’t challenge me.” Joe retorted back.

You laughed softly, kissing him hungrily again and grabbing the duvet from behind you. Covering the both of you with the sheet, Joe tangled his fingers through your hair as you both blissfully enjoyed each other’s flushed bodies against each other.

Time had frozen, and Joe didn’t care if he needed to be up early tomorrow morning. You were literally the espresso shot that could keep him up all day and night.

Somehow, that was enough for him.

********

Taglist:

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#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader #Joe Quinn x Fem!Reader #Joseph Quinn Fanfics #Joe Quinn Fanfics #Joseph Quinn Fics #Joe Quinn Fics #Joseph Quinn rpf #Joe Quinn rpf #espresso #one shots #sweetprfct

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malereadermaniac · 6 months

Text

Alt-boy headcannons - Rantaro Amami x Male Reader

College AU, both of you attend hopes peak, but it's a college (ages around the 20s) Some longer headcannons of Rantaro as your alt-boy crush (U/t) - Ultimate Talent word count: 1.7k 1 Nsfw headcannon / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

Pining over him

How could you not find the tall, deathly looking white boy from your class attractive?

Rantaro caught your eye almost immediately - with his muted-green dyed hair, his baggy clothes, the crystals around his neck, and his sexy, smug smirk

His style overall was just straight up hot! That alt-boy had you wrapped around his pinky finger - and the two of you barely ever even interacted!

Sure, you were both in the XXth class at Hope's Peak, but there are 15 other students in that class!

What changed things was a paired project sent from the God's above, forcing the two of you to spend at the very least A WHOLE WEEK TOGETHER

To say you were buzzing was an understatement

During that project, you two became friends, and you both started to talk inside and outside of school afterwards

It's great that you can talk to Rantaro, it's what you wanted, of course! But man, is it hard not to blush anytime you two interact or not stare at the man's beautiful features

He pines over you

Rantaro had known of you before that paired project. You were both in the same class, so of course, he knew your name and that you were the (u/t)

He did tend to admire you from afar. If a class ever got boring, Rantaro would wander his gaze over to you and watch as you clumsily played with your stationery

During the group project, Rantaro really got to know you - and that's when he found himself falling for you

Being in a closer proximity to you allowed the alt-boy to admire you up close; he found your features cute and attractive, the face you made when concentrating funny, you hands gentle & soft looking, and Rantaro fully could not get enough of your voice

He loved it when you talked and explained something to him, the hum of your voice sounding like waves on a beach

But Rantaro also found himself talking too, talking to you more than he does to his other friends at school - something about you, maybe your comforting look and tone, just made the green-haired man feel like he could open up to you

And while you two did chat about random shit and classes, more interesting things were talked out too - like your ultimates

And that's when Rantaro noticed that he could, for some reason, be vulnerable with some classmate he'd never talked to that much before

The stylish man opened up about his sisters, the reason behind his talent being how he's always searching for them and wants to dedicate his life to finding them

And the fact that you simply just listened to him and wished him luck, Rantaro was officially head over heels for you

Listening to music together

Rantaro insists on you giving his music a try

Even though you're more of a pop listener, Rantaro's pestering gets more intense by the day - so you have given in before

The first you gave in had you thinking about it for like 5 weeks, smiling 'n giggling and kicking your feet st the thought of it

What happened was Rantaro had his wired earphones in, listening to his indie music and swearing in his life that you'll like it more than whatever you were currently listening to

And to prove that, Rantaro took an earphone out and popped it into your ear, forcing the two of you closer together for the headphones to not fall out

You, of course, blushed immediately, Rantaro smiling down at you as you both listened to some Arctic Monkey's song

After getting over the fact that you two were practically at kissing distance, his scent and cologne making you feel dizzy, you started to actually listen and enjoy the song

Rantaro chuckled at you and said a very proud "I told you, you'd like it" as the two of you looked into each others eyes with an oddly romantic song playing in both of your ears

God, you still haven't really stopped thinking about that moment - and neither has Rantaro

Dress-up

As your bond with Rantaro grew more and more, you and the stylish man had become more comfortable with each other

Enough to go over to each other's houses and enough to change in front of each other

So when you went 'round Rantaro's and looked through his wardrobe, he offered to play a little dress-up with you

Not only did the handsome man let you borrow his attractive, baggy clothes that smelled of him in the best way possible, but he also dressed you himself then and there

You were embarrassed at first, stripping in front of your close friend/kinda crush, but Rantaro made you feel comfortable

You liked how he eyed up your bare chest nonchalantly, how Rantaro briefly ran his fingers over your skin as he put one of his huge jumpers on you

After trying on a few outfits, stripping to your boxers over and over, you couldn't help but notice Rantaro desperately trying to cover his crotch - he's lucky that his clothes are ridiculously baggy

The confession

Looking back on it, you still have no idea what came over you, but one day you just randomly confessed to Rantaro

Maybe it was the overwhelming romantic and slightly sexual tension between the two of you, or maybe it was the universe saying that you two are meant to be together

Whatever it was, it overwhelmed you to the point that as you were leaving Rantaro's house, as you were hugging him for a second too long, you looked into his hypnotic eyes and just word vomited your feelings

By the time you were done rambling about Rantaro's pretty eyes and good clothes n music taste and his kind personality and his fucking hot look and body, the taller man was blushing almost as much as you were

Rantaro covered his mouth with his lean hand in such a sexy way, his other arm crossed against his torso, as he looked down at you

You took the silence as rejection and instantly started to tear up and apologise

However you were quickly interrupted by Rantaro's fucking hot, slightly raspy chuckle as he nonchalantly said "I've been waiting for you to say all that y'know... I like you too, (y/n), my ultimate (talent)

Your brain just about short-circuited when you heard your now boyfriend say that

After talking the situation through briefly, you had to get back to leaving - bur Rantaro wouldn't let you leave until he'd had his fill of your lips and tongue

According to him, he'd been "deprived of your taste for so long now... been so patient for you"

Dating

The two of you are happily dating, you aren't an overly clingy or annoying couple - but you do see each other every day, and most weekends

You love to spend the night at Rantaro's, most of your dates take place in his home - but on special occasions, you two make the effort to go out on fancy dates

Cuddling, spooning, and falling asleep in each other's arms is usually how your little date hangouts end - Rantaro's huge clothes offering you both so much warmth along with his lanky arms around your waist and chest

Listening to music is almost a daily ordeal now, sharing headphones while eating lunch or just laying on each other's lap - you aren't clingy, but small amounts of PDA is a must with you two

If you two wanna go out but not for anything fancy, arcades and parks are your go-to's - especially if there's a bakery nearby, sweet treats, and time with one another really gives you both a dopamine rush

Rantaro can also get jealous pretty easily - something you did NOT expect. He's told you that he would get jealous and possessive even back when you were both just friends

But the green-haired alt boy isn't very obvious about it, he'll just get in his head if some guy tries to chat you up - cuddling into you a little more or holding your hand a little tighter for the rest of the day

Spice

Rantaro may not seem it, however he is one horny mother fucker!

Saying that, the two of you didn't have sex for a little while - but you both made up for it in making out like hell

On every single one of your dates/hangouts, once it got a little later into the evening, you would with no doubt end up on Rantaro's lap somehow making out with your boyfriend like your life depended on it

Rantaro loves holding onto your waist and the back of your neck, his slim, masculine hands gently holding you in place

Of course (being men with dicks which get hard at the smallest movement) you would both grind into each other, Rantaro's hard dick poking into your thigh while you rub your own against his abdomen

But for a while, the two of you wouldn't go any further, just make out for ages and then blue-ball yourselves

That was until you both got sick of that and wanted to go further

You prepped before going over to Rantaro's and double-checked his roommates were out of the apartment for the night - they were.

After making out until your lips were sore and your tongues were tired, you stopped Rantaro from moving away

With a deep blush, you mentioned wanting to go further, and your alt-boyfriend perked up even more in mood and in body; the smile on his face was immense and adorable

You were each other's firsts, and while it wasn't perfect it was pretty damn good

Ever since that day, Rantaro has been insatiable, he couldn't get enough of you before when you two would just kiss but now he's practically addicted to you

Missionary, Doggy, lotus, hell you've even tried a full-nelson! Rantaro and you fuck almost every night now and it's fucking heavenly

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murdockparker · 5 months

Text

Promises, Promises

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Five years is a long time to be together, Peter knew that. Peter also knew that everything was expensive—but he had an idea. A little juvenile, sure, but it was an idea regardless.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of sex (no smut), reader is a nerd, Star Wars hot take?

A/N: I haven't written for Peter in a hot second, but I'm glad to get back into the swing of things ;) i'll see myself out now

An old pop song blasted through the small shop, possibly from the eighties or nineties, it was hard to decipher, given that the boombox playing the song was probably older than she was.

“Do you need more toilet paper?” She asked across the aisle, hoping someone would answer back—a certain someone in particular.

“Nah,” she could see a mop of brown shake from over the packages, “I just bought some last week.”

“Peter, if you’re lying to me and you’re out of toilet paper again I swear on all that is holy—”

“Babe,” Peter said softly, peaking around the corner, “trust me. It’s not gonna be like last time.”

“Oh? You mean the time I was stranded on your toilet while you ran out to buy some more?” She nearly had laughed at the memory, but decided against it, having far more fun antagonizing her boyfriend. “That last time?”

He went positively crimson, from his neck to his ears. He always looked good in red, she thought, but she liked this red the best. “I am one thousand percent positive—I think I still have the receipt in my back pocket.”

“You said you bought some last week though? You haven’t washed those jeans yet?”

Peter shrugged. “I haven’t worn these that many times since last week…”

She laughed at that, pulling a bag of chips off of the shelf. Changing her mind, she pulled another as well—her favorite and his favorite. “Okay pretty boy, I believe you. I also believe we’ll be making a stop to the laundromat tonight, too.”

“Can we do it tomorrow?” Peter groaned, grabbing the snacks from her and holding them close. “I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“Obviously you haven’t been in the mood for a week,” she rolled her eyes. “But sure, we can go tomorrow. Tonight, we feast like twelve year olds and binge our favorite movies.”

“How did I get so lucky?” Peter sighed, leaning up against the shelf, eyes locked on her. “A pretty girl willing to watch Star Wars, eat cheese puffs and date me?”

“Don’t forget the hot, hot sex you’ll have with the pretty girl after,” she winked, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Speaking of—”

“Restocked those too,” Peter said proudly. “Bought them with the toilet paper—could show you the receipt if you want. Bet you’re glad I held onto it, right?”

She pushed him away, her nose scrunched up in disgust. “I take the offer of sex back, I’m still not over those dirty jeans.”

“I’ll shower!”

“Just buy the snacks,” she laughed, shoving him towards the cashier. “I’ll rethink my offer in the meantime.”

“Aye aye, boss,” Peter saluted, turning hot on his heels to the front. She couldn’t help but smile, watching him laugh with the bodega owner, pulling crumpled bills out of his pockets and pressing them against the counter. There was hardly anything that Peter Parker could do that she didn’t find endearing—find something to smile about.

“Local news tonight, late last night in Manhattan, our favorite web slinger was seen assisting with directing traffic during the power surge,” a reporter on the T.V. in the corner of the store announced, the screen showed Spider-Man waving traffic along, webbing a car to stop before it crashed into another oncoming vehicle. “Local authorities showed up minutes later to take over, sans-webs.”

“Huh,” she clicked, feeling her smile grow wider. “He's been spending time in Manhattan?”

“Spider-Man gets around town,” Peter shrugged, finally returning beside his girlfriend, their purchases in white plastic bags. “Can’t always stay in Queens, can he?”

“Helps if Spider-Man goes to school in Manhattan, no?” She teased quietly, elbowing Peter lovingly.

“He had time after class,” his voice matched her own, low and slow, opening the door and finally walking out onto the street. “What? Was he expected to let everyone crash their cars while the stoplights went out?”

“No,” she hummed, noticing quickly how Peter took the outside of their strides, closest to the street. He always did that. The notion warmed her heart, the feeling flooding to her toes. “Good thing he was there to help out. I’m sure the police were thankful.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Okay,” she conceded, head falling onto his shoulder. “Yeah, that was dumb to say.”

The rest of the walk was silent, as silent as it could get in New York City, anyhow. Comfortable, the beats of the city passing by with every step towards Peter’s apartment, hands intertwined with the other. Occasionally, he’d tug her back and stop her from stepping into the street, clearly knowing she’s not paying attention to the changing pedestrian signs. She’d squeeze his hand back in thanks.

“Have you thought more about moving in?” Peter asked, trying his best to unlock the door to his apartment, wrists heavy from the bags. “Y’know, I’m sure I can get you added to the lease if I asked.”

“Thought about it,” she hummed, gently taking the bags from him. “I just… your place is a bit small.”

“What?” He scoffed, finally pushing the door open and allowing her to enter. “You’re saying this luxurious suite is too small?”

It was comical, the timing of his statement. She could hardly turn her neck and she’d get a full view of Peter’s apartment—minus the bathroom. He could only afford a studio, and even then it was bursting at the seams, with all of his school work, his work work and his ‘unofficial’ work work, the place was a mess. He tried his best to keep it tidy, he really did. It was never filthy, just overrun by stuff.

“Babe, you’re growing out of your own space,” she laughed, double checking she locked the door behind them—it had a habit of sticking. “How’d you think I’d fit in here?”

“Preferably on my lap, or in my bed,” he smirked. “But… yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s a little cramped.”

“It’s not that I don’t love you, or love spending time here,” (Y/N) clarified. “Hell, you’d think after all these years I’d have moved on if that was the case.”

“Has it been that long?” He asked rhetorically, opening the bags in the kitchen—if you could call it that.

“I won’t even pretend to act insulted you’ve forgotten how long we’ve been together, Parker.”

“Time flies when you’re in love,” Peter nearly sings. “Five years is a long time, feels like just yesterday I was nervously asking you out.”

“I asked you out,” she corrected. “I know, I know, five years and a hell of a lot of brain damage from crime fighting can make you misremember—”

“No way,” he scoffed. “I distinctly remember sliding a note in your locker between classes. Super cute, very sappy, I might add.”

She hopped up on his counter, with what little space he had free, anyway. “Did you? You seem to be forgetting how I pulled you aside after science class and, very confidently, I might add, asked you out for milkshakes after school.”

“That was the day I left you the note,” Peter blinked. “I just assumed you read it and were moving the process along.”

“Wait,” she barked a laugh. “I thought you left the note after I asked you out?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’. “Left it for you that morning, chemistry wasn’t until after lunch.”

“Huh,” she breathed, shoulders deflating. “I guess we both asked each other out on the same day.”

“Can’t believe it took us five years to figure that out,” Peter laughed, patting her thigh.

“Knowing us? I’m surprised it didn’t take us ten.”

Ten years.

Ten years with her.

The thought alone made Peter buzz with happiness.

“We’re both pretty smart people,” Peter squeaked out, fighting his own body, hoping and praying a childish blush won’t give him away. “We would’ve figured it out before then.”

“I dunno, seems unlikely,” she opened a bag of chips, impatient to start their evening. “What are we starting with tonight? Phantom Menace?”

“We started with Phantom Menace last time, chronological order,” he scrunched his nose. “I think we should go by release order this weekend, just to shake things up.”

“Okay, nerd,” she said, her voice filled with affection. Hopping off the counter, she walked towards his couch. “I’ll go get A New Hope set up, then. You plate the snacks.”

“I’ll pull out my finest china,” Peter said. He opened the cabinets to find two bowls, one for each of the bags of chips. They were mismatched and two totally different sizes, but they were free from the old neighbors, so he made do.

“Y’know, I don’t think the debate between release order versus chronological order is all that great,” (Y/N) said, mostly to herself. “I mean, there’s a thousand other things Star Wars fans can get caught up in arms in, but the order in which to watch the movies? Oh no, someone man the Reddit boards! What a crock of shit. It doesn’t matter anyway, they’re all good movies.”

He chuckled, clearly amused by his girlfriend’s rant. “All of them? That’s a controversial opinion.”

“If I had a good time watching it, it was a good movie,” (Y/N) said simply. “Not everyone’s a critic.”

“Clearly.”

“Do you not agree?”

“I agreed the last time we had this conversation,” Peter droned, though not bored in the slightest. “Though, I will admit, I was perhaps a bit distracted, on account of your nakedness.”

“Our pillow talk gets heated,” she said, no hint of shame in her voice. “Only intellectual conversations afterwards, to ground us and all after… everything.”

“Because the sex is that good?”

“Because the sex is that good,” she agreed.

“Maybe I should plan that shower soon,” he grinned, walking over to his loving girlfriend. “Delay our marathon…”

“I didn’t walk all the way here just for sex, you know,” (Y/N) hummed, the couch shifting at Peter’s added weight. “An added bonus, for sure, but I came here to pig out and watch silly little movies set in space with my pretty boyfriend.”

“Pretty boyfriend?”

“The prettiest,” she giggled, slipping a kiss to the tip of his nose. It’s not her fault he has such a kissable face—lips, cheeks, nose, wherever. “Big doe eyes, loads of freckles, smoochy cheeks—”

“Which ones?”

A pillow—one she had bought him months ago—met his face with a quick thump. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossibly smoochable,” Peter giggled, feeling lighter than air. “You said so yourself.”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice all thick and lovey, “I know.”

Peter looked at her like she held the world in her hands, sitting beside him on his old couch—one that they had both moved up the stairs together two years ago—he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Everything was right in the world, everything was right in his heart.

“Are you gonna press play?”

He shook his head a bit, dumping his lovesick thoughts out of his ears. “Oh! Yeah, right. The movie.”

She pulled a blanket up on them, snuggling closer to Peter as the opening fanfare begun to play. With the text scrolling on the screen, one he hardly needed to read to know what it said given his near-memorization of the film, he felt at peace.

—

Mindlessly scrolling on his phone, it was usually how he spent his mornings, to wake himself up. He knew about the studies with blue light and stimulation of that sort of activity and wakefulness—having heard it enough from the party beside him, but he didn’t seem to care.

Apartment listings.

She was right, his studio was too small for the both of them, and it was only fitting if they were going to start a life together—living with one another—that they had ample space. Besides, they were graduating within the year anyhow, so location wasn’t terribly important. In the city would be nice, given his… other occupation, but he could get used to living outside of Manhattan again. It was quieter, usually, and only by a small percent. Cheaper, too. Thank God for his scholarships, he wouldn’t have made it very far without them.

She stirred next to him, pulling his comforter mostly off of him. He didn’t need it right now, anyway. Not when she was sleeping so soundly. He craved these weekends, when they both had a break from school and work—most of the time anyway. Peter Parker knew in his heart of hearts that he needed this every day. Perhaps forever.

Forever.

That seemed so out of reach five years ago, but now? Peter simply couldn’t see a life without her in it. With their hectic schedules, his being all-encompassing, marriage was out of the question, at least for a few years. That’s why the apartment was so important to him, a piece of forever within their grasp.

“Maybe…” Peter sighed, clicking his phone off, afraid to breathe louder than necessary.

She didn’t seem to wake, anyhow.

—

“Why do weekends here go by so fast?”

“At the laundromat?”

(Y/N) gave him a knowing glance. “Yes, Pete, weekends fly by here at the laundromat.”

“Come on,” Peter laughed, stacking his jeans—fresh out of the dryer. “It’s not so bad. They have those magazines you like.”

“Magazines from years ago—”

“There was that one from the eighties you found two months ago,” Peter pointed. “Stuck under one of the dryers?”

She smiled at the memory. “True. That was kinda fun. Seeing all the dated hairstyles and outfits was a treat. But you knew what I meant, use that big brain of yours.”

“It probably has something to do with the fact we like spending time with one another,” Peter began, patting the top of his laundry pile. “Y’know, makes the time go by faster.”

“Maybe,” she sighed. “I mean, logically, that’s probably the answer.”

“Logically? As opposed to illogically?”

“I could shove a sock down your throat right now, Parker,” she said seriously, holding up a balled up blue sock of his. “No one here would stop me. So cut it out with the smart ass-ness.”

Peter snorted a laugh. “Such a scary girlfriend I have, threatening me with socks.”

“Maybe instead of kryptonite like Superman, your weakness is socks? I need to capitalize on that venture before anyone else does,” she said, throwing the sock into the laundry basket. “Once I crack that code, I can sell it to all the big baddies of New York.”

“And maybe with all of the money you make, we could invest in a place for us,” Peter said.

“A house on the water,” she said dreamily. “Four bedrooms, an office—maybe one for both of us? Oh! An open kitchen sounds nice too, one with stone counters and fancy wood cabinets—real wood, not particle board. One of those farmhouse sinks?”

“If you share Spider-Man’s one weakness to all the big baddies of New York, don’t you think you’d have a hard time sharing a life with him after?” Peter asked, the sounds of the machines drowning out their conversation well enough. They practically had the whole place to themselves anyway, it seemed safe enough to talk about. “You know, considering that the spider is likely dead?”

“Hm…” she tapped her chin. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“We could start with an apartment, first,” Peter chuckled, throwing bits of his laundry basket into the washer. “I was looking at listings—”

“I thought you wanted me to move into your place?”

“We need a place of our own,” Peter said. “You were right, my studio isn’t going to cut it, and I want to spend more time together. Our weekends are the best time of the week, and any night I spend with you is a night where I actually get some semblance of sleep—for the most part, anyway.”

The entire laundromat lit up, Peter was certain her smile was the culprit.

“You were looking at listings?” She asked shyly, digging through the basket to help Peter load the washer.

“Most of it was out of our budget,” he admitted, “but it was a start.”

She hummed in agreement. “We’ll look together tonight, then.”

“Sounds perfect,” Peter grinned. “Oh! Could you double check my pockets? I keep forgetting change and stuff in them.”

“What about old receipts?” (Y/N) giggled, obliging to his request. She pulled a pair of khakis out of the basket, gingerly fishing her hand in the pockets. “I think I’m entitled to any change I find, Parker.”

“You can have whatever you find,” Peter agreed, his voice a little shaky.

Turning the back pockets inside out, she found nothing in the first pair, throwing it unceremoniously into the washer. With a bit more haste, she rifled through the second pair—the pair she had bought him a while back. Her fingers came across something round and cool. Change, it had to be.

“I think I just became twenty five cents richer,” she laughed, pulling the item out of the pocket, expecting a quarter. Instead, it was a smooth ring, delicate and without any stones, but still elegant. “What…?”

“It’s not a house on the water,” Peter started, looking down at the ring in her hands. “It’s also not a new apartment, but it’s a start, right?”

“Peter Parker, if you’re proposing to me in a laundromat—”

“It’s also not a proposal,” he corrected, “I’m gonna get you a better ring for that, I promise. Besides, it’s not very romantic here, is it?”

She looked up at him, his eyes staring into her own. Big and beautiful, that’s what she always thought of his eyes. Like they held the answer to every question in the universe, and in a way, they did. “It’s a promise ring?”

He shrugged, his ears growing a bit pink. “When you say it like that it sounds a little… middle school, but in a way, yeah, it is a promise ring.”

“Girls my age are expecting engagement rings,” she said, looking back down at the ring in her hand. It was her size, she didn’t even need to try it on to know it. How did he figure out her ring size?

“I promise baby,” Peter stepped towards her, grabbing her hand, closing her fingers around the ring. “I’m gonna get you that ring. I just thought it’d be nice to have something to wear on your finger in the meantime—before we do real adult things like move in together. A-and this way, you can help me pick out your real engagement ring! I have a really good idea of what you like, but I don’t ever want you to look down at your hand and thing ‘man, I wish Peter chose this instead of this’, you know?”

“Honey,” (Y/N) said, looking back up at him. “You’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’m nervous.”

She chuckled. “How do you expect yourself to actually propose if you can hardly give me a promise ring?”

“Hadn’t thought that far,” Peter shook his head. “But it’s for you, I’m willing to do anything for you.”

He meant that.

She knew he meant that.

“Am I supposed to put it on myself?”

Peter quickly scrambled to open her hand to grab the ring from her, nearly dropping the thing. “You want to wear it?”

“My boyfriend got me a pre-engagement ring,” she nearly rolled her eyes. “You expect me not to wear it?”

He pushed the ring onto her left hand, fourth finger. Peter gently lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it lovingly. “I promise, you’ll get a better ring from me one day. S-soon! Like, as soon as I have the money, I swear to it, honestly.”

“Pete,” she placed her now-ring-clad hand on his face.

“Right,” his shoulders deflated, “rambling. Sorry.”

She kissed his cheek. “It’s all very sweet and very you, Peter Parker. I love it.”

A dryer alarm buzzed, startling the both of them. “You do?”

“Well, I love you, and that’s enough,” (Y/N) smiled. “Besides, I like the idea of wearing a ring you got me—and the idea of helping you pick out the real thing? That basically sold the idea for me.”

“You’d say yes if I asked?”

“I agreed to your pre-engagement engagement ring, did I not? You’re not losing me that easily, Peter. I’m gonna hold out for the real thing.”

“We’ll go ring shopping as soon as we find a place,” Peter said seriously. “Move in, graduate, all that.”

“You’ve thought this through.”

“A lot,” Peter agreed. “Sometimes it helps to fill the time when I’m swinging around town. I usually am thinking about you, anyway, anytime of day.”

“That’s so crazy,” she said, voice teetering on sarcastic. “Because I’m usually thinking about you, too.”

“Pretty crazy,” he smiled, pulling her into him. With careful hands, he lifted her face towards his, a silent invitation. One she was more than happy to respond to.

Kissing Peter Parker was one of life’s greatest pleasures, she was sure of it. Granted, she had really never kissed anyone else, high school sweethearts and all of that, but she knew it really couldn’t get better than this. The slightly chapped kisses, the way he would lick his lips when they parted, how he would nip at her bottom lip in protest if she thought about stopping the kiss too soon—it was all perfect. Of course, kissing in a slightly shady laundromat was a bit of a turn off.

“Pete,” she said, pulling back.

“Can I not kiss my girlfriend?” He nearly begged, holding her against him a bit tighter.

“I can’t be your girlfriend,” she said seriously. “I mean, not with this flashy new ring and all—seems a bit juvenile with that title, no?”

“What do you suggest?”

“Partners,” she shrugged, feeling him pepper kisses against her cheek, her nose. “It seems more grown up, anyway. Now, when I go into class or work and they comment on my ring I can say, ‘oh, my partner got me that’.”

“Babe, I’m your partner in anything,” he laughed, pressing his forehead against her own. “If you’d like to change our terms of endearment—I’m all aboard.”

“It’d only be for a short while, anyway,” (Y/N) said, smirking against his lips, capturing them in another kiss. “Then I can call you my fiancé…”

“Romantic.”

“Then my husband,” she teased.

“Oh I do like the sound of that,” Peter nodded. “(Y/N) Parker has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“What about Peter (Y/L/N)?” (Y/N) asked, quirking her brow. “You could be progressive.”

“We could hyphenate?”

“Nah,” she shook her head. “Parker is a fine last name. A little basic, but perfectly suitable.”

“We’re kinda basic people, are we not?” Peter chuckled.

“Let me just go and ask your friend Spider-Man that,” she said seriously. “I’m sure he’d disagree?”

“Oh, speaking of!” Peter stepped away from her. “I need to wash… well, y’know—”

“It’s already soaking in the sink back at your place,” she said simply. “Trying to get all the dried blood off of it and all.”

Peter’s eyes nearly melted in affection. “What would I ever do without you?”

She smiled back in kind, a lovesick sort of way. “Not your laundry, that’s for sure. Come on, Parker, we’ve gotta finish this load. Sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go home.”

A rogue ray of sunlight hit her new ring just right, making the band shine brightly against her hand as she continued to throw his dirty clothing into the washing machine. “Yeah, let’s finish this up,” he said softly. “Let’s go home.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #marvel #spider-man #marvel x reader #spider-man imagines #it works for any peter I promise!!#mcu peter parker #tasm peter parker

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sailoryooons · 1 year

Note

Okay hear me out, but maybe a little bit of enemies to lovers, little bit of smutty goodness between witch hunter!yoongi and witch!reader?? Idk why this popped in my head but I’m kind of desperate to see a little something now lol.

Also, I love you ❤️

❀ Pairing: Witch hunter!Yoongi x f. witch!reader

❀ Summary: For years, you and Yoongi have played cat and mouse. It’s his duty to rid the world of witches, but he always finds a new excuse to let you slip through his fingers. When you find yourself at his mercy, you wonder if the great witch hunter will finally end your game of chase, or if there’s something that will stay his hand.

❀ Word Count: 4188

❀ Genre: Urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, a hint of angst, smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

❀ Warnings: On screen character death (not permanent though), depictions of blood and intense action sequences, scary demon thing, depiction of weapons, hints at violence between two groups of people, mild world building, a bit of angst, explicit language, explicit sexual content featuring light nipple play, unprotected vaginal sex, emotional sex, a lot of spit, UNEDITED.

❀ Published: August 3, 2023

❀ A/N: I don’t know why I thought I’d be able to control myself with some of these ideas because god dammit Sarah, I want to turn this into more than ~4k of a work. Like this idea inspired me so much, you have no idea how insane I wanted to go on this but I had to CONTROL MYSELF because I promised that this year I would keep it tame. I love you so much and I’m so sorry that this is like 90% plot and 10% smut but I kept inching toward 5k and I was like I HAVE GOT TO STOP MYSELF JESUS CHRIST and dkfgjdiogjfoigjg I am telling you right now, I want to come back and revisit this fic and makie it like a four chapter thing or something because GOD I LOVED THIS IDEA AND YOU KNEW JUST WHAT TO REQUEST. Also this is unedited!!!!

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Most nights, Yoongi dreams of you. He knows better, and yet he can’t help himself. It’s like you’re living under his skin, a virus that has taken root in the marrow of his bones. He doesn’t know how he would dig you out if he tried.

If he tried.

If anyone from the Conclave knew the dangerous game that Yoongi is playing, he would be ousted or killed. Killing would be the mercy, but he’s garnered enough hate within the elite members of the Conclave to know they’d rather him suffer cut off from his resources. His friends. His family.

Still, Yoongi walks a dangerous line. He knows it’s wrong, letting a witch infect him like a sickness. He is sure that he’s under your spell. There’s no other explanation for the way he always lets you slip away. For the way he closes his eyes and imagines the flutter of your heart against his, the sound of your gasps, the warmth of your hands.

Stars explode behind Yoongi’s eyes as he presses the heels of his hands into them. He’s exhausted, limbs heavy and sore from a day of bloody work. The activity downtown has only worsened the last few months, making Yoongi hunt multiple times a day and return home banged up.

The pain he can handle. Witches and their demons are nothing new to him. But he knows there’s something he’s missing, something lurking beneath the surface of the increased activity and the strong demonic presence in the city.

Yoongi knows he could ask you. He’s thought about it a few times over the last few weeks but he’s talked himself out of it each time. The curiosity has always lingered there, waiting for him to ask in those moments where you cross his path, coy and sharp as ever. In the minutes you linger, shooting him insults he thinks you don’t mean and playing little word games.

He doesn’t ask, though. And you never offer, despite the fact that your sharp eyes and knowing smirk lead him to believe you know he wants to ask.

Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t. Not giving you what you want is part of the fun. He likes the way it makes you bristle, magic crackling at your fingertips. He loves the way it makes you narrow your eyes at him, lobbing empty threats that make him want to purr.

Whatever this effect you have on him is potent. He can’t shake you off, can’t outrun you.

And worse, he doesn’t want to.

Rain begins to beat on the bedroom window outside. Though his limbs are heavy from slogging through the sewer system downtown after a witch and her ivax demon, he’s a little too keyed up to sleep. Yoongi senses something staticy in the air, an energy that he can’t name.

Opening up his phone, he flips through his text threads with members of the Conclave. It seems everyone is in it tonight, the demonic activity buzzing and the monsters worse than usual. He frowns when he sees Seokjin mention a prowler crawling through the warehouse district. Yoongi knows that’s where you live and an unexpected sense of unease slivers down his spine.

He locks his phone and tosses it on the bed. He doesn’t need to worry about you. You’re one of the most skilled witches in the city and you’ve killed scores of demons and others alike. He should remove your head for the number of hunters you’ve put in the ground, but you’ve killed triple that in witches.

Which is why you’re alone. It’s not lost on Yoongi that you’re a witch without a coven and with unusual alliances living in a warehouse all alone with a prowler on the loose. If you know it’s there - you have to know it’s there, being you - he knows you’ll go after it.

“Fuck,” he sighs at the ceiling.

Grabbing his phone, Yoongi sends off a quick text.

Yoongi: Anyone dispatching to take care of the prowler?

Councilman Haer: Negative. The Conclave will not be dispatching. The Warehouse District is not critical and it’ll go back down after it’s satiated. Prowlers aren’t controlled by witches, it might even take a few out for us.

Yoongi stomach flips as he squeezes his phone tight before getting up. He’s tired of the Conclave’s inaction. He knows he’ll get in trouble for going after something so dangerous without backup, but he can’t ask Seokjin and Hoseok to back him up on this one. Not unauthorized, and not for something so dangerous.

Unsanctioned hunts is exactly how Yoongi has ended up at the bottom of the pool among Conclave members, but he doesn’t care. Politics can’t erase the fact that he’s the best fucking hunter in the city, and no councilman who won’t get their hands dirty can give him grief for doing what needs to be done.

This isn’t about the Conclave, though. Yoongi knows it. Seokjin would know it, if Yoongi told him what he was doing. But the thought of a prowler tearing through the low-income streets in the Warehouse District doesn’t resonate with him. Neither does knowing that you are one of the witches in the line of fire.

Yoongi dresses and arms himself with military proficiency. A black, long-sleeved shirt with a form-fitted leather vest over it to prevent most stabs and cuts, knives sheathed along the ribbing of the vest, breathable pants with a tactical belt and pockets full of hunting necessities, and his necklace with the Conclave helix.

At the last second, he grabs a jacket and pulls the hood up to keep the beating rain from soaking him through. While he has some talent with magic to help him heal faster and make his blows stronger and faster, he’s not skilled in the way of weather or anything advanced enough to keep him dry and comfortable.

Nervousness settles into him as he takes the subway to the Warehouse District. It’s not far, but the train is empty and filled with dirty puddles left behind from passengers. Lights flicker above as the subway rockets unevening on the tracks, making him dizzy.

When he steps off the train and into the wet underground of the station entrance, he knows something is amiss. His fingers twitch as he jogs up the steps, boots splashing loudly as the rain comes down. Wind whips at him here and when he hears a crack of thunder too loud and rumbling to be human, his instincts kick in.

Yoongi takes off running. He knows where your warehouse-turned-loft is. He’d originally scouted it out to eliminate you. Now, it’s something he’s always kept an eye on, steering other hunters away from your home. It’s silly, he knows. You’d call him weak if you knew, probably. And yet he does it, diverting danger coming your way when he can.

Now, danger is already there.

The storm rages harder as he heads your direction. Wind pushes at him, making Yoongi lock his muscles as he fights the freezing cold rain and the debris that blows down the street with the force of the storm. He hopes that it keeps people indoors and away from the prowler.

But Yoongi sees the purple lighting lance out of the sky, an explosion of radiant beauty for a moment before it strikes nearby, blowing transforms into white sparks and he realizes what is so uncanny about this storm.

It’s you. You’re the storm.

A roar of rage shakes the air as he comes around the corner to your street. The warehouse you live in is at the end of the road right up against the bay. The wind is mixed with salt spray, stinging his eyes as he runs towards the shadowy outline of your building, nearly impossible to see in the rain and night.

Yoongi manages to roll one of the heavy doors open to your loft, muscles screaming with effort. Stepping inside, chaos greets him. The ceiling is blown out above your home, rain pouring in from the sky. It tastes like lightning and blood. No doubt your storm is what ripped the ceiling apart, but when he sees the prowler, he doesn’t blame you.

A massive creature stands ten feet tall, rippling with leathered hide and spikes on its back. Long, gangly limbs drag on the floor with black, sharpened talons on the end of each of its three fingers. The prowler walks awkwardly and Yoongi notes the scorch mark in its left shoulder, making it lean as it drags itself toward its intended target.

Which is you, laying on the ground bloody and rain soaked. Yoongi doesn’t even think. He has no idea if you’re conscious or not, but he’s moving across the room, putting power into his step as he pulls out two of his daggers and jumps high up into the air.

Yoongi’s intent is to land on the back of the prowler and sink each blade in as he falls. He doesn’t anticipate the demon to turn away from bloodied prey, but it does, swinging its arm wildly to bat him away. He’s lucky that the forearm catches him in the stomach and sends him flying and not the flaws.

Closing his eyes and bracing for impact, Yoongi is surprised when he doesn’t slam into a wall. He opens his eyes to see himself floating toward the floor, suspended briefly before the phantom energy drops him gently. He lands with shock, looking up to where you’re sitting up, one hand extended toward him.

At least you weren’t out cold or dead. Yoongi is really happy that you’re not dead, but it’s cut short as the prowler charges him.

This time, Yoongi’s ready. He runs at the beast, waiting until he’s right outside of the window of its swiping claws before he dives to his knees, sliding under the creature and between its legs. He twists his hands, cutting the inside of the creature’s thighs as he goes.

It shrieks, shaking the building and scattering Yoongi’s thoughts. He feels fizzy and confused for a moment, the mind breaking scream of the prowler enough to make him vulnerable. He feels a hand on his face and he looks up, momentarily stricken with the thought that he sees an angel.

“Thank you,” you breathe, and he recognizes your voice. Usually it cracks like a whip, but this is soft. Strange. It terrifies him. “I’m going to do something that is probably going to kill me. Just know that I liked our game, Hunter.”

“What are you doing, Witch?”

Your smile is like the sun. He doesn’t think he’s seen anything more beautiful. Your face is covered in blood and rain, turning your neck scarlet as it runs. There’s a gash above your brow and he sees a blackened wound in your stomach.

It is amazing, how a creature like you, bred to be an evil, wicked thing can look radiant. Holy. Wonderful. Your hand is cradling his face and it feels warm, despite the rain and blood on your hands. Your thumb is soft as it sweeps across his cheek, a touch more reverent than he’s ever known.

“Witch,” Yoongi starts, unsure what you’re doing.

“I’ll miss that. Take this.”

Before Yoongi can react, your hand falls from his face. You move past him with absolute confidence, lifting your chin. You have a limp as you do, and Yoongi reaches after you but you’re already out of his grip.

Something stirs in the air. He’s only felt power rippling like that once before when he was a child, and the entire Conclave worked together to slaughter an Eldritch Witch that had attacked them and taken out more than half of their hunters.

Now, Yoongi feels that dark presence again, energy buzzing against his ears as he turns to look at you over his shoulder. The prowler senses the power disturbance too, backing away from you as dark particles begin to gather around your hands.

Above you, the rain hovers, disrupted by the frequency of your magic. The buzz in Yoongi’s ears gets louder as he climbs to his feet, clapping his hands firmly over his ears, wincing as it gets higher and louder. He thinks it might burst his ear drums or crack his skull open.

Disks of dark particles circle you as you approach the demon, which is now roaring once more, trying to disrupt your thoughts. It doesn’t work, the air vibrating with dark matter. You’re at the center of the swirling darkness, the rings rotating around you like an access.

The sound stops suddenly, and for a moment, Yoongi thinks he’s deaf. Black matter pulses from you, exploding outward. Yoongi hits the floor, realizing if he gets hit with your magic, he’ll die. Never before has he witnessed the Eldritch Blast of a witch, but he knows that it's only used as a final stand.

I’m going to do something that is probably going to kill me.

The finality of your words shreds him open as the shockwave of your magic barrels at him. He thinks he’s going to die as it expands toward him, but instead, it arches over him, battling down against a magical barrier.

Take this. Yoongi realizes you’ve warded him from your destruction, keeping him safe as your blast levels the world around you. He feels the magic beating down on your ward like raging fits, vibrating and shrieking under the pressure of the magic.

It even keeps him from being injured by the collapsing debris.

Yoongi looks at you as the world falls to pieces. You go down to one knee, then the other, swaying as the darkness cascades around you in a final flutter of power. Then you fall over, heavy and unmoving as the rest of the building comes down.

All he can do is scream.

Most nights, you dream of Yoongi. You don’t know when it started - perhaps that first night after you met him? You can’t be sure. All you know is that at some point, the hunter poisoned you from the inside out, a disease taking root and rotting you all the way through to your core.

You always knew that dreaming of him would get you killed one day. But Yoongi was different. Wiser than the rest of his wretched Conclave. Smart enough to question his way of life and his faction’s merciless killings. You think he’ll start asking the right questions soon, that maybe he’ll start seeing the signs that who he has sworn loyalty to isn’t who they say they are.

But Yoongi never asks questions.

It’s easy to tell he wants to. There’s always that little pause at the end of your meetings. You used to think it was perhaps he was trying to decide whether or not to kill you. Perhaps it was that at first, but now it’s something a little different. A little more. Like he is on the edge of finally asking you what exactly is going on in the city that he protects from monsters.

Yoongi is simple, though. He likes his little life tucked away in the Art District and he likes the wash, rinse, repeat of killing demons and corrupted witches nightly. You think he likes your little run-ins.

Now, you’ve finally paid the price of letting him live these last two years. Had someone told you before you’d met Yoongi that you’d sacrifice yourself for him and the rest of a small neighborhood, you’d have laughed in their face. You weren’t a hero, though some might think slaying your own kind and their creatures was worth praise.

Penance and praise are not the same, though.

Dying seems like a good way of paying off your list of wrongs. Especially to save Yoongi. If only to save Yoongi, if you were being honest.

Witches have a lot of lore about death and where one goes in the afterlife. You’re not sure where you are, if you exist, or if you’re even really a thought. It feels like nothingness and everything all at once, a void of floating consciousness. There’s no pain, but you remember the warehouse. Remember the prowler ripping down the door and coming for you specifically.

And him. You remember Yoongi coming in, looking like a fucking angel of old as he leapt through the skies. Together you might have taken on the beast. But prowlers are notoriously difficult to destroy, and you were in no shape to protect Yoongi, much less fight by his side as a reliable partner.

That left you with one option, and though you knew it would end you, you’d done it anyway.

Yoongi’s face swims in your mind. Soft and round, eyes like the bottom of the ocean, a single pink scar carved through his right eye. Mouth soft and petal pink, hair silky and dark, reaching to his shoulders. He’s small for a hunter but he’s strong and broad, his mind his best weapon.

Witch, Yoongi had said. The last words you’d hear from him, spoken with a softness that you’ve never heard from him before. Rain-soaked and wide eyed Yoongi, looking at you like you held the flame of life, like you were something more than a creature on the other side of the trench.

The best thing you could do for him was die.

So you summoned your magic from deep within you, that ancient, sleeping thing. You try not to think about what Yoongi’s last memory of you will be, an eldritch horror that will remind him of the creature that slaughtered his family as a child.

Yoongi will never get to ask his questions. You’ll never get to tell him why you haunt the streets killing your own kind. Yoongi will never know the softness of your kiss. You’ll never know the gentle press of his hands.

Something brushes across your forehead. You feel now and you frown. Or can you frown, in whatever plane of death this is? You’re not sure, but you feel… the weight of your own body. The beating of your own heart. The rush of air through your lungs as you breathe.

Awareness prickles at the back of your neck like a needle. Slowly, you begin to feel solid. Your fingers twist in soft sheets, and when you turn your head, you feel the plushness of a pillow. Smell petrichor and cedar.

It smells like… Yoongi.

“Hmmm?” you feel the vibration in your throat at your unspoken question, nothing but a rumble of noise and confusion. Something cradles your face. “Hunnn..?”

A deep, throaty laugh. “Mmm, I take care of you for a week straight and we’ve moved on to endearments?”

Your eyes flutter open, lids heavy. The world swims into view, a little blurry as your eyes try to focus in the dimly lit room, taking in the bed you’re in and the face hovering above yours.

“Yoongi,” you breathe, your heart expanding with unfettered joy.

“That’s the first time you’ve ever said my name.”

“What?”

“Say it more often.” He leans forward and you watch as his dark eyes drink you in. “And never do that to me again.”

Before you can ask him what that is, Yoongi’s mouth is pressing against yours. You melt immediately, going boneless in a bed you’re unfamiliar with, lost in the citrusy taste of his mouth and the gentle press of his lips. His kiss is soft soft soft, blurring reality as he pulls at your bottom lip teasingly before pulling away.

Eyes fluttering open, you stare at him in wonder. He hovers above your face, haloed by inky-black hair. “Yoongi.”

He smiles. “It sounds much better than hunter. Hun can stay, though.”

“You’re not calling the shots.”

“You’re in no condition to fight me.”

“I killed a prowler, I think you’re no problem.”

His eyes glow. “I think perhaps you’re right. But for now, you’re at my mercy.”

“Kiss me again.” You lift your hands and bring them toward his face, brushing a finger over the bottom of his scar. “And don’t stop this time. I’ll ask my questions later.”

“Of course, witch.”

Yoongi’s kiss is hungrier now. Desperate. Full of all the questions he never asked and you meet him with equal fire. You don’t care that you’ve beat the odds and lived. You don’t care about anything else but the weight of Yoongi straddling your waist and the feel of his velvet soft skin beneath your hands.

Every inch of him is warm, filled with the heat of the hunter’s fire that burns through every member of the Conclave. This hunter burns brighter than the rest, though. Warmth blooms where your fingers press over his stomach and chest, ridding him of his shirt. Fire burns where you grab his arms, arching into him as his teeth skim your throat.

You’ve never felt this in sync with someone, bodies twining together like you were made for one another. Yoongi’s hand is scorching as his touch ghosts down your body, his touch light and teasing as he lowers his mouth to your hardened nipple, catching it and giving a gentle suck.

Honey-dipped moans slip from your mouth. Yoongi’s mouth is wet-hot against your skin, tongue laving hungrily as his hand seeks the heat between your legs. Your thighs open for him easily, giving Yoongi access to the dripping mess of your folds. He curses when his fingers slide between your slit, gathering slick to circle his digits around your clit.

“Fuck,” you hiss, hips twitching. “Don’t bother. I can take you now. Want you now.”

“I told you that you were at my mercy.” You summon your magic, rattling his shelves. Yoongi leans over to your neglected nipple and plucks it with his teeth, making you squeal and shiver, pleasure rattling you. “Fine,” he agrees. “Greedy witch. Should have known.”

“Not greedy,” you shoot back as Yoongi sits up and sheds his pants. Your hands follow him, tracing the faint scars on his stomach, pressing against the muscle of his tapered hips. “I’ve waited for months for you to do something. To say something.”

“I’m not good at that.”

You hum. “It takes me dying for you to take initiative?”

“A lesson hard-learned and never to be repeated.”

Yoongi’s cock is hard, bobbing heavily as he shuffles you under him and presses your thighs open for him. The brown tip is sticky with precum, his shaft long and thick enough to make your cunt ache for him more.

“Nice cock,” you tease as he pumps himself, hand gliding and spreading his precum down his shaft.

He grunts. “Can’t wait to feel this fucking pussy,” he mutters, leaning forward and pressing the tip to your entrance. You make a breathy sound, eyes fluttering shut at the pleasure-pained stretch. “Think you can take it, witch?”

“Yes.”

Yoongi sinks in and you second-guess your statement for a second, but the stretch of his cock pressing you open feels good. Deliriously so, your back arching as he bottoms out. You feel him in your gut, deeper than anything ever before and you whine as he draws his hips back before snapping them forward, punching the breath from your lungs.

He sets a deep, hard pace. You grip his biceps, feeling the muscle flex in his arms. Every part of you is on fire, lit up from the closeness of your bodies as Yoongi leans down and melds your mouths together, continuing to fuck you so deep you know you’ll never forget what it feels like.

Every brush of his cock against your g-spot drives you mad. Every whisper of your name - your name, not witch - makes you shudder. His tongue is hungrily as it brushes against yours, his moans deep and throaty as your pussy grips him tight.

“Fuck,” he pants, sliding a hand down your body to grab your thigh and hoist your leg higher. It changes the angle, making his stroke somehow deeper. Your eyes roll back and your head digs into the mattress as you fist at the sheets. “You can fucking take it.”

“Keep going.”

“As if i could fucking stop.”

You never want him to stop. Fucking you, kisses you, teasing you, shadowing you as you take on the world. You want every part of your life colored with Yoongi. You want him to be a part of your mornings, your fights, your weaknesses, your strengths. You want to rile him up, needle him with little insults that get him going. Tease him to make him laugh and share that secret smile.

Every moment has led to this. You don’t know how you never saw this outcome, here with him, crying out his name as your orgasm crests into an unstoppable force. When you come around him, it’s with his name in your mouth and so much need for him in your heart that you think you might explode with energy for a second time.

After, when you’re wrapped in Yoongi and you feel his hunter’s skin blaze against you, sweat-slick skin pressed close, you think that finally, he’ll ask those questions. You’ll give him answers.

“Don’t do that ever again, witch,” Yoongi warns. “I will follow you into death.”

#yoongi smut #suga smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #bts suga #bts fanfic #minors do not interact #minors dni #bts suga smut #yoongi angst #halis happy agust

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witchwyfe · 1 year

Text

lost in the fire - jhs

I pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x female reader

I précis: you get jealous of your fwb!

I content/warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of almost-drunkenness, language, kissing, allusions to sex, friends with benefits

I word count: 969

There's a pit in your stomach when you see Jake talking to another girl. You don't even know why you agreed to come out with your shared friend group, you're tired from a long week and now pissy because Jake isn't paying you any attention.

She’s pretty, with blond hair and green eyes, a manicured hand dancing up his arm. He laughs at something she says and you grind your teeth, jaw clenched uncomfortably.

Mickey thought it would be fun to go to club, rather than the usual hangout at the Hard Deck, and everyone else was on board.

Jake's out of uniform tonight, in a satin-y black shirt and well-fitting jeans. You're dying to run your hands down his chest, before yanking his clothes off, but you've kept your distance this evening. You're irritated that he's been avoiding you, even though you specifically told him you didn't want any of your friends to know about your arrangement.

You met Natasha at a hot yoga class and you two became quick friends. Once the two of you were close enough, she introduced you to her squadron. Not even a few hours after she brought you to the Hard Deck and introduced you to all her friends/coworkers, you'd hooked up with Jake in the bathroom. Even though you swore it wouldn’t happen again, it did, a lot.

So it became a regular thing, that you conveniently didn't mention to everyone else. A good old fashioned friends with benefits. He didn’t seem the type to be in a relationship and you weren’t looking for anything serious.

Problem is, both of you get jealous but neither of you will admit it, or ask for something more.

You take the tequila shot that Natasha slides in front of you, reveling in the burn down your throat. You're one shot past fun, buzzy, tipsy, and entering a pouty, crabby tipsy. You want nothing more to sit at the high top table, with your arms crossed and bottom lip popped out until Jake comes and gives you some attention, but instead you force a smile, and pull Natasha out to dance.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake has had an eye on you all night, and know that you've moved to dance, closer to his perch at the bar, his gaze is locked on your form.

The tight dress you have on accentuates your form and Jake almost wipes drool from his mouth when he see's you dancing against Natasha. Your ass rolls against her front, her hands loosely on your hips. You’re both giggling, your head thrown back against her shoulder.

Song after song, you dance with Natasha, until you feel like you can no longer stand up on your own, feet aching in your heels. You wobble over to the table, simultaneously jealous and in awe of the way Natasha seems to gracefully strut to the table, even after four tequila shots.

Jake is back at the table, he must’ve lost the woman he was talking to, because she’s nowhere to be found. You’re still sporting a frown though, facial muscles taut. Jake is studying you carefully, but you don’t even notice, reaching for Natasha to ask for another shot.

“Why don’t I get you some water, sweetheart?” He cuts in, hand reaching for you. You step away from his hand, face pulling into a scowl, but following in his direction nevertheless. His hand hovers over your lower back, not actually touching you, but you can still feel the heat from his appendage.

“I missed you.” He says quietly, once you’re far enough from the table.

You snort, giving him a cold look. “Could’ve fooled me.”

His brows furrow, a pout that you would find cute any other time, tracing his lips. “I don’t understand, I thought we weren’t telling anyone?”

You roll your eyes with a huff, crossing your arms. “That’s not what I’m talking about, Jake.”

“Then, please, enlighten me, darlin’,” He whines, not a trace of sarcasm in his tone.

You sigh heavily. “If you missed me so much, like you said, then why were you talking to other girls?” You wonder, eyes narrowed.

“Baby, are you kidding me?!” He exclaims, ignoring the sharp look you give him—whether its from the baby or his volume level, he doesn’t know. “My favorite girl was ignoring me, I—“

“No Jake, I’m not ‘kidding you’.” You snap, abruptly cutting him off. “What the hell am I supposed to think? You spend the whole night, not speaking to me, but you’re fine with talking blondie’s ear off all night? I wasn’t ignoring you, I’m trying not to make it obvious to our friends that we’re sleeping together, but you could at least acknowledge me!”

“Are you jealous?” He blurts, he can’t help the bubble of laughter that escapes him, even when he thinks he see’s smoke come out of your ears.

“Shut the fuck up.” You hiss.

“No need to be jealous baby,” He sidles right up to you. “You’re the one I’m goin’ home with, pretty girl.”

“Well she doesn’t know that.” You grumble.

“You’re the only that needs to know it.” He rasps, calloused palms sliding gently over your cheeks, before warm lips land on yours.

His tongue is practically down your throat when you finally push him off, feigning an appalled expression. Your cheeks warm under his gaze, but you also can’t deny how good it feels to be the only person he’s looking at right now.

“Take me home then.” You dare, locking your eyes on his.

“Gladly.” He smirks, sliding his arm around your shoulders. He walks you both by your group, dropping enough cash on the table, to cover all of your drinks, before leading you outside.

If your friends didn’t know before, they definitely do now.

#mine #my work #my writing #witchwyfe #witchwyfe writing #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin oneshot #jake hangman seresin blurb #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin oneshot #jake seresin fanfiction #tw alchol #jake seresin blurb #jake seresin imagine

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tweetracer · 1 year

Note

In regards to Allan requests.....can i request a little something for Reader!Doll (Ken or Barbie idc) x Allan meet-cute, or anything regarding love at first sight? Thanks!!!

✨Doll!Reader x Allan✨

💖 Every day in Barbieland is perfect but today is the most perfect of perfect days because today you arrive at Barbieland! You’re one of a kind, brand new, first of your name (and with the way you were selling off the shelves you won’t be the last!) and the Barbies knew immediately that they absolutely had to throw a super awesome blowout party with a bespoke song and completely original dance choreography.

💖 It was exciting! And… maybe a little overwhelming. Your line of Dream House (“Dream Living Apartment by Mattel”) had yet to leave the assembly line so Physicist Barbie was letting you have a sleepover at her place in the interim which was so sweet of her.

💖 The two of you were putting on the final touches of your outfits for the evening (with her complimenting your hair and you praising the flattering pantsuit she’d chosen for the night) before heading to President Barbie’s Dream House where the event would be hosted with you arriving as the guest of honor.

💖 “Ohmigosh! I am just so excited for your party tonight!” Physicist Barbie reached over to grab your hand excitedly, bouncing it a few times as you let out a laugh at just how happy she was. Everything really was perfect in Barbieland, wasn’t it? “It’s not my party, Barbie! It’s President Barbie’s party!” You amended with a bashful smile.

💖 “It’s a party for you though! Your first real night in Barbieland! Ah!!!” She cheered again, waving her hands about with a huge grin as her Dream Car turned itself down the street and began to slow to stop in front of the impressive bright pink building overhead. You could only smile and laugh, somewhat embarrassed by just how nice everyone is!

💖 Carpark Ken graciously escorted you from the vehicle as you followed Physicist Barbie up the regal stairs where a set of massive pink mansion doors opened up to a huge entryway- a wall of PinkSynthFunkBubblePop music hitting your ears in a way that would have been overwhelming if you were anywhere but Barbieland.

💖 The entire party was a blur; you were swarmed by Barbies- all asking you about yourself and what you do and how much you must already love it in Barbieland and Kens who wanted to show off with the cleverly choreographed dance breaks worked into the song.

💖 It would have been exhausting but you were in Barbieland! Barbieland wasn’t exhausting!…… right? You smiled and waved goodbye to another Barbie who’d come to welcome you (her Ken right on her heels- looking like she’d hung the plastic moon in the midnight blue backdrop of a sky). You couldn’t help but feel some weird twist in your chest and, had you been anywhere but Barbieland, you would’ve sighed.

💖 You obviously didn’t have a Ken- you weren’t a Barbie, after all (something you’d had to politely remind a few Kens when they referred to you as one) so why would you have a Ken? You took another pretend-sip of the imaginary sparkling cider when Doctor Barbie spun your way- her beautiful red hair billowing out behind her as she handed you a pair of roller skates.

💖 “Come on! You’ve gotta join in the next dance- we’re doing a Starlight Express inspired Jubilee-Groove Pop number in your honor!” She extended her hand to you and you took it without a second thought despite that same little twinging feeling you felt earlier. “Thanks, Barbie!” You called out, doing a little spin that (with the help of some Barbieland magic!) resulted in you coming to a smooth stop on your roller skates!

💖 “Wow, Barbie you look so rockin’ in those skates!” Came the cheerful caw of nearby Roadie Ken decked out in a glittery denim vest with slicked back hair. “Oh my GOSH, Ken! They’re not a Barbie!” Doctor Barbie scolded even as you waved his words away with a bashful smile. “Oh…! Well you look TOTALLY ROCKIN’, Ken!” He went in for a fist bump only for Doctor Barbie to roll her eyes and grab your hand, skating towards the dance stage. “They’re not a Ken either, duhh” Barbie groaned. Roadie Ken apologized profusely (clearly confused) but was cut off at the Jubilee-Groove Pop song started up, music loud and cheerful and just so Barbie.

💖 The choreography began and you moved through it automatically- like your body knew how to do each move without you putting an effort behind it. You smiled and moved along to the music- ignoring the Totally Nonexistent Part of you that felt like this wasn’t… your scene.

💖 You spun on your wheels in a beautiful pirouette before a Ken wheeled up, taking your hand in his and following in the choreography with a big grin. He opened his mouth to say something before you felt your body whirl in another direction without your consent. The choreography sending you from partner to partner- the Kens a blur of big white shiny smiles and the Barbies each a beautiful, capable individual but none of them were the right dance partner it seemed.

💖 Your body moved on its own, switching partners with elegant dance moves that timed perfectly with the rising music. Right as the pop music swelled you closed your eyes; letting your body move on its own. You felt your body grab a hand- a new partner, your eyes opened right as the music came to a head.

💖 He was… cute. With big doe eyes and deep red hair that framed a sweet face he was… different? He followed your movements just as easily as you slipped into each other’s orbit perfectly.

💖 “You aren’t a Ken!?” You blurted out, surprised even as you spun into into his arms on one roller skate. He laughed, pretty porcelain cheeks turning a shade of pink. “Oh! No, I’m Ken’s buddy, Allan. All his clothes fit me. Are you the new Barbie?” He asked, lifting you up as the two of you stood in the middle of the dance floor- the rest of the couples moving in a perfect circle around the two of you.

💖 “They’re not a Barbie~” came the singsong voice of a dancer spinning by.

💖 “O-Oh! I’m sorry I didn’t mean!” Allan started but you waved him off with an embarrassed grin, unable to tear your eyes away from his as the lights and music seemed to float and glitter around you. “Don’t worry about it” you said gently, surprised by how breathless you sounded despite not needing to breathe.

💖 The two of you seemed to be locked in this moment together- unable to tear your eyes apart as the two of you smiled bashfully. That weird feeling you had earlier- the one that said this wasn’t your scene, the one that felt like the music was loud- the one that wanted to sigh in Barbieland seemed to dissipate as the music finished.

💖 You introduced yourself politely, still smiling as you admired the way his eyes lit up at your name. “It’s very nice to meet you, Allan.” You said, knowing you probably looked silly with how big of a grin was on your face. But it couldn’t have been that silly because his smile mirrored yours and it looked so charming on him.

💖 “So would you like to-” Allan started only to get cut off as a new song came to life, dancers rushing the floor. “WhoAH!” Allan yelped as Model Ken whipped past him, sending the redhead tumbling forwards. Without thinking you reached out, catching him without hesitation and wrapping your arms around him with a surprised gasp.

💖 You stared deeply into his eyes from where you held onto him- blinking a few times at how close the two of you were. Something in your brain told you to press forwards- you don’t know why but you just needed to press your lips against his and-

💖 “Hey! Nobel Prize Winning Journalist Barbie invited you to the after party at her place! Let’s go!” The two of you jumped apart as Doctor Barbie approached you with a big smile, immediately grabbing your hand and wheeling you in a new direction. You were stunned, almost starstruck from the handsome doll you’d just been pulled away from.

💖 You hardly noticed Doctor’s Barbie’s words but nodded along, unable to stop yourself from glancing over your shoulder at Allan, who still stood looking just as spellbound as you felt. Your eyes met through the crowd and shared a shy smile, you lifted a hand to wave goodbye at him and he did the same.

💖 Something deep inside you stirred, making your face warm and your steps feel light. You think you were going to really really like living in Barbieland.

💖 (Somewhere in the RealWorld, a little girl sat in the backseat of a car with her brand new doll and the Allan her mother had managed to find on the back of the shelf of a Goodwill last Christmas; baffled that the discontinued toy had been for sale. “Honey? Honey- don’t smush their faces together like that, remember? You have to be careful! There’s only one Allan.”)

#anonymous #tweed peeps #reader slash #reader insert #barbie imagines #barbie movie fic #barbie x reader #barbie/reader #barbie movie (2023)#Allan #Allan (Barbie Movie)#Allan (Barbie)#Allan/Reader #Allan x Reader #Allan (Barbie)/Reader #Allan(Barbie) x Reader #ken x reader

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thewritetofreespeech · 8 months

Text

tags: oral (blowjobs), mentions of heterosexual intercourse/relationship, Byakuya being a slightly naive little puppy.

It was already late in the evening by the time Byakuya & [Y/N] went to bed. But they both seem to have no intention of sleeping.

He broke their lips free from their kiss only to reseal them with another. Letting out a soft noise when he felt [Y/N]’s fingers undo his sleeping robe and then brush against his chest. His own hands holding onto her waist, fingers gripping and ungripping at the soft flesh there just under her own robe.

She kissed down his neck & shoulders. Byakuya leaned back to give her more room, but then became confused when she continued to kiss lower. “What are you doing?”

[Y/N] looked up at him from the position she had slithered into between his legs. Her fingertips just tucked into the waist band of his pants. Her expression seeming a little caught off guard by his question. “I just thought…you know…for you…” Her babbling clearly didn’t make sense to him, as Byakuya’s face was as blank as ever, and [Y/N] sat up suddenly on her heels to look at him. “Wait. Have you never had a blowjob?”

Byakuya’s stoic mirror broke instantly. He may have even blushed a little before turning away.

He may be of a noble family, where such things are not talked about ever, but he has also been essentially a soldier all his life. His subordinates would of course never say such vulgar things in front of him, but he has ears, and their voices carry. So of course, he knew what she was talking about, but he was hard pressed to dignify her comment with a response.

“It’s not an appropriate thing for a lady to do.”

Her deep chuckle brought back his attention again. Though he wasn’t sure if she was laughing at him or his comment, the sound drew him in like a siren song. She leaned in closer, wrapping her arms around his neck and her thinly covered breasts pressing against his bare chest. “I’m not a lady though.” She kissed him again and pulled back with softly hooded eyes looking at him. “Can I do it then? I’d…really like to. But if you’re not comfortable we don’t have to try it this time.”

Byakuya wasn’t sure how to answer her. Saying yes made him feel a little bit like a pervert. Like he was asking her to do something degrading (even though she asked). But saying no made him feel like he was a prude and ruining the moment. He’d also be a liar if he said, deep down, that he wasn’t interested in these kinds of services. He might be a noble, but he was still a man. “If that’s what you want to do, I won’t stop you.”

[Y/N] gave him an enticing smirk that made his erection all that more noticeable, and she slid back down to where she was earlier between his legs. The tint in his face crawled up further, now the he realized what she was down there for, but tried to stay still and not move. He didn’t know what to do so he felt the best course of action was just to stay put. She pulled on the waistband of his pants again and he lifted his hips to help get them off. His erection popped out immediately. Waving in the air near her face and Byakuya suddenly felt incredible embarrassed. A perfectly natural reaction made 10x more awkward with how up close she was to it.

[Y/N] doesn’t seem to mind though and gripped the shaft to start stroking him. This caused Byakuya to let out a sigh and relax a little. This was something familiar that he was accustomed to, which was probably why she did it. The feel of her hand made the ache in his loins both ease and intensify at her touch. Then she leaned forward and he felt something wet lick the side. Byakuya was a smart man, so he knew it was her tongue, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that or the feeling of her tongue on him, but he let her keep going.

Her tongue lapped at the side of his cock while her hand held the base. It was an odd sensation, but not unpleasant. In fact, he was getting more & more pleasant as it kept going on. He felt his breathing start to labor by the time his entire cock was wet. Then she suddenly did the unthinkable and put the tip in her mouth. A moan escaped him, unbidden, as the head of his cock sucked on gently. Her tongue massaging the sensitive glands while still in her mouth and sending shockwaves up his spine. He suddenly realized why men had such an obsession with this and felt the need to bring it up all the time.

It didn’t stop there though as [Y/N] suddenly started moving her head up & down over his cock. The entirety of his erection in a warm, wet, sucking vice. Her hand following up after it to keep it encased at all times so it never lost pressure.

“Fuck….I mean….[Y/N]…” Byakuya never cursed (unless of course absolutely necessary) but he was losing himself.

All he could think about in this moment was pleasure. His whole existence narrowed down to just [Y/N] and his cock. He couldn’t even think of the presence of mind to warn her when he was about to ejaculate. Suddenly cumming in a loud grunt as he almost doubled over from where he had propped himself up, before falling back on the bed.

“How was it?”

Byakuya opened his eyes at [Y/N]’s question. The woman on her knees between his legs still. Tucking back her hair behind her ear to keep it out of her face, showing off her breasts in the process which had broke free from her robe which had come undone while she was servicing him. His spent cock twitched in attention. Seeming to want to answer for him. “It was good.”

[Y/N] gave another one of those deep chuckles (god she was going to kill him) before leaning over him until they were almost face to face. That grin on her face as well. “Good. I’m glad you liked it. But…you still seem pretty lively.” The tip of her finger brushed over his cock from base to tip. “Think we can keep going?”

Byakuya wasted no time in answering her question by gripping her hips and helping her straddle over his cock. He moaned when he slid into her. Feeling how wet she was. Knowing that she had been turned on by servicing him as much as he had been with her.

They made love for a while later. [Y/N] riding him until she eventually came, and he came a second time inside of her.

When they were finally done and curled up next to each other, Byakuya stayed awake for a little while longer. Realizing how sexually inexperienced he was, even though he had a wife and did pick up on things like anyone else. He decided he was going to work on that. To be a better partner for [Y/N] to make sure their needs were fulfilled. He wouldn’t fail another woman in bed by not being there for them.

If nothing else, he at least needed to learn how to ‘return the favor’. He would find a discrete way to look into that tomorrow.

#bleach #bleach tybw #bleach smut #bleach scenarios #bleach imagines #imagine #scenarios #byakuya kuchiki #byakuya x reader #byakuya kuchiki x reader #kuchiki byakuya #byakuya scenarios #byakuya imagine #byakuya x you #bleach x reader #bleach x you #female reader

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