#punch me kiss me your mouth and your hands are heaven and in your brown eyes that vengeful old testament daddy

[emmcfrxst]

the only heaven i’ll be sent to (is when i’m alone with you); arthur morgan x reader

word count: 2K

warnings: smut!, afab!reader, religious themes (kinda. a bitch loves blasphemy<3), oral (f!receiving), body worship (arthur worships the ground you walk on), multiple orgasms (again, f!receiving), expressively asking for consent because that’s sexy! also yes the title is a hozier reference! feedback is appreciated as always <333

!!!!!MINORS DNI!!!!!

The wind blows softly over the half-closed lapels of the tent you and Arthur had set up somewhere around Dewberry Creek, your old, rusted lantern creaking as it sways with the night breeze. The flickering light does not seem to bother your companion, however, as he flattens his tongue over the seam of your cunt, moaning greedily into you. Arthur’s eyes flutter closed in ecstasy as your fingers tangle in his hair, giving the honey brown strands a sharp tug when he delivers a particularly hard suck to your pulsing clit. Your legs close around his head instinctively, trapping him between your thighs, tense muscles flexing against the sides of his face. A soft, breathy apology leaves your swollen lips, the pressure disappearing soon after as your lover pins your body down with calloused hands, brushing off your apology with a chuckle against your skin. You do not have anything to apologize for; Arthur Morgan, a man who has escaped death more than once, would gladly let himself be smothered by your cunt if it came to it. What a way to go that would be, he thinks. The closest to heaven’s gates he will ever get. And although Arthur isn’t a man of religion, he is more than willing to spend every day and every night praying at the altar that is your body, worshipping every inch of you with his eyes, his lips, his hands. Every kiss, every mark you leave on his skin is a holy reminder of the love shared between the two of you; of the passionate nights where Arthur can forget all about his sins and fully allow himself to be bathed in the sacred light of your affections.

“There you go, beautiful. Come back to me.” he coos at you, pushing hair out of your teary eyes, a tender grin on his face. His thumb gently runs under your eyes, wiping away the moisture there as you come back to your senses, focusing on his form above you. The sight of him is like a punch to the gut; blue irises swallowed up by fully dilated pupils, lips swollen and shining with the evidence of your previous orgasms, his beard is soaked through and his breathing ragged. You let your eyes wander down to where his bulge is straining against his union suit, biting your lip. The effect is immediate— his cock twitches under your sultry gaze, a soft groan leaving your lover’s throat.

“Stop lookin’ at me like that.” Arthur warns lowly, calloused hands running over the bare skin of your thigh. You giggle, lifting yourself up to brush your lips against his, your hand running down his chest, feeling his muscles flex under your touch.

“Like what?” You ask innocently, the teasing curve of your smile betraying your oblivious act. Arthur glares at you playfully, hand coming down to squeeze your inner thigh.

“Like ye wanna do real bad things t’me.” He mutters, voice raspier than usual, dripping with arousal. Suppressing a grin, you sit up, letting your hands slide all the way down to cup him through his clothes, thumb gently pressing against the wet spot on his underwear. A sick sort of satisfaction fills you at Arthur’s reaction —pretty blue eyes fluttering closed, his lips part in a strangled moan, hips jutting forward, seeking more pressure. You allow him a few moments to bask in your touch, swirling your thumb around his tip through the fabric and cupping his balls, before taking your hands off of him, leaving him breathing heavily.

“Maybe I do wanna do real bad things to you, Mr Morgan.” you whisper against his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses over his pulse point. A satisfied little giggle leaves you when you hear him cursing under his breath, hips bucking upwards of their own volition. Your victory is short lived, however, as your lover pinches your clit in retaliation, making you cry out. Satisfied, a smug grin on his face, he finally bares himself to you, making your breath hitch. It isn’t the first time you see Arthur in all of his glory —far from it, really, but the sight of how strong, how capable he is always manages to steal the breath right from your lungs. Freckles adorn the robust planes of his shoulders, ascending all the way across the broadness of a back toned from years of hard work; a petite waist and powerful hips curve out into muscled thighs and chiseled calves— Arthur Morgan is truly a sight to behold. He flushes under your heated stare but says nothing —how wise of him, you think, for he knows by now that you would never allow him to look down on himself, not even under the pretense of a joke. You deserve better than the way you treat yourself, you’d told him a million times. And you’ll spend the rest of your life proving it— that he’s worth it, be it through words, comfort, actions or through the passionate entangling of your bodies and souls. Because sex is more than just that to the two of you; it is a way of communicating the love and the needs you have for one another— Arthur, so painstakingly touch starved before you came along, now revels in the physical familiarity you two share. From fleeting touches to lingering kisses, he simply cannot seem to get enough of you; he does not believe the longing in his heart could ever be quelled completely.

Trembling gasps leave the two of you as Arthur slides his cock between your folds, coating himself in your slick. Jolts of pleasure thrum through your body every time his tip bumps against your swollen clit, your soft cries of pleasure causing Arthur’s cock to twitch.

“Sweetheart, if you keep makin’ all them pretty noises it’s gonna be over b’fore it even starts.” His accent is thick and his voice is shaky, excited little tremors running through his body at your state of undoing —all because of him. He’s made a real mess out of the two of you; drenched, sweaty and needy — thick strips of your wetness clinging to Arthur’s lower abdomen, precum pearling over the tip of his cock and gliding down his length; yes, your lover is more than willing to drown himself in your shared desire, to indulge in the carnality of your bound. Wrapping a hand around himself, he groans behind clenched teeth, sensitive to the touch, fingers quickly getting wet from how thoroughly turned on he is. He, however, remains unashamed, having accepted long ago that he will never be in control when it comes to you —he has never felt so connected with another human being, be it physically, psychologically, mentally or emotionally and he no longer bothers trying to hide the way you make him feel.

Understood. Respected. Appreciated. Loved. Alive. He’d never felt so many emotions prior to meeting you. Had never felt so alive; had never wanted to keep going as much as he has since you walked into his life. You make it worth it.

Letting his lips brush along your brow line, Arthur curls the fingers of his free hand around one of your thighs, spreading you open for him.

“Ye still good? D’ye want me to stop?” He asks, blue eyes roaming over your bare form with tenderness, trying to assess the situation. Even with you soft, pliant and soaked underneath him, Arthur Morgan would never dare to make assumptions about your desires, would never be so single-minded as to claim you without expressed consent from your part. He needs to know you want this as much as he does, wants this to be good for you— he thrives on your pleasure and your pleasure alone; can only feel good if you are. It is one of the many reasons why you love him so deeply, but in your lusting daze, you find yourself too strung up to fully appreciate it.

“Arthur Morgan, if you stop now m’gonna kick your sorry ass—oh!” Your voice breaks off into a pitiful little whimper when his cock teases your entrance, a low, rumbling laugh leaving him.

“As you wish, m’lady.” He allows himself to be playful for a few moments longer, basking in the frustrated little furrow of your brows and your pouting lips before pushing inside in one smooth glide, aided by your shared arousal. Arthur curses under his breath as your cunt flutters around him, trying to adjust to his girth. The blunt ends of your nails leave crescent marks onto the broadness of his shoulders and Arthur clenches his jaw, doing his best to stay still and allow you a moment of reprieve from the sensations that overtake your body. Busying himself with leaving marks onto your skin, he soothes the spots where his teeth have dug into, lips moving feom your neck to your chest to take a nipple into his mouth. The loud, broken mewl you let out at the action makes him shiver, goosebumps spreading all over his skin at the sound, but he continues to stay still, waiting for you to give him the permission to go on. It’s only when your legs wrap around his waist that he does finally let himself move, pulling himself almost all the way out before sliding back in with a quick snap of his hips. Another cry leaves your lips at the action, although this time sounding strangled, your cunt clenching around your lover’s cock at the delicious friction he provides you with. Your foot presses into the meat of his ass, encouraging him to go faster, deeper— a silent demand he is quick to indulge in. A series of loud, wet noises begin resounding around the two of you, only motivating Arthur on to thrust harder; your back arching up into him when he starts battering that one spot inside of you, rough fingers coming down to rub circles onto your clit. The moans pour freely from your mouth and into his as he kisses you, tongues tangling together in a messy, sloppy fight for dominance. You’re vaguely aware of the spit trickling down your chin but are far too gone to care; the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter with every powerful snap of Arthur’s hips into yours. Already sensitive from your previous orgasms, you rake your nails down his back, trying to warn your lover of your impending climax. Alas, gargling moans are the only thing you can manage before you finally snap; vision going white, body going rigid under his, you repeat his name like a prayer as waves after waves of pleasure wash over you. Arthur isn’t far behind you, spurred on by your own release, a long, incredibly deep moan rumbling through his chest before he pulls out of you, sticky cum splattering across your stomach. Coming down from your high, you tuck a few strands of hair behind Arthur’s ears, fingers lingering on his face lovingly. He leans into your touch immediately, turning his head to press a gentle kiss into your palm, his body trembling with the aftermath of his own orgasm.

“Was…” He clears his throat, rolling off of you and pulling you along to rest on his chest. “Was that good f’r ya?” The gravelly tone of his voice cannot conceal the genuineness of his question, his fingers running down the length of your spine. It makes you smile— he makes you smile, your sweet cowboy. Shifting to look at him, you kiss him right over his heart, fondness warming your features.

“It was. It always is, with you. I love you.” And despite it not being the first time you utter those words— far from it, really— emotion still takes over Arthur’s heart and features, eyes shining with a sheen of tears.

Love. You love him.

No, Arthur Morgan may not be a religious man, and he remains unconvinced of God’s existence, but he does know one thing; you are his little piece of heaven on Earth.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan fic #rdr2 fic #rdr2 smut #rdr2 imagine #arthur morgan imagine #red dead redemption 2 fic #red dead redemption 2 smut #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2

[romanstheory]

Match Me a Roman Reigns One Shot

Roman x female

Warnings : smut, language, risk of being caught

Word count : 900

18 +

Since I am debuting today, Hunter thinks it’s time to reunite with Solo and finish the job with Kevin and Alexa. The only thing standing in my way of reuniting with Solo is Roman Reigns. He kind of runs things on the main roster, but that’s never intimidated me. I haven’t gotten this far tip toeing around others and I’m not going to start now. The show opens with Roman addressing the crowd and Kevin Owens. I quickly walk over to the entrance to the ramp into the arena. “Play my music” I demand to the tech guy.

My music begins blasting and the crowd roars as I walk out into the arena. Solo’s face lights up almost making him break his seemingly permanent scowl. Roman’s face twists up in confusion. I make my way to the ring, Solo sitting on the ropes to let me in as Roman shoots him a look of disapproval. I pull Solo into a tight hug, it felt like forever since I had seen my best friend. “I hate to break up the reunion…… but what the hell are YOU doing here” Roman says sending me a look of absolute disapproval.

“Don’t worry Joe, I’m not here for you” I begin as the crowd roars with a loud oooo. “I’m here because Solo and I have unfinished business with Kevin and Alexa”. Roman frowns and looks over at Solo. “I don’t give a damn about none of that” Roman barks at me “you think you can come in my ring and start giving orders to MY cousin”. I let out a sarcastic laugh, letting the crowds reaction fizzle out. “No… I’m in MY rings telling MY friend we still got business to handle” I bark back at Roman, getting closer to him. He’s a lot bigger than I am, but I’ve never cared about that any way. I look up, staring dead into those dark brown eyes of his. Part of me wanted to punch him square in the jaw and the other part wanted him to fold me up like a pretzel, and I think he knew that.

“I’m big dog! This is my show! This is my ring! Who the hell do you think you are?” Roman continues to bark. I smirk at Roman’s anger as Jimmy, Jey, Solo, and Sami stare at us both wondering what’s going to happen next. You could cut the tension between us with a knife. “Well big dog, if you don’t step aside and be quiet you’re going to have a bug problem” I say never breaking eye contact. The rest of the bloodline looks on in disbelief.

The night wraps up and backstage empties out. I can hear Roman in a nearby office bitching to Hunter. I laugh to myself as I walk passed and hear the door shut. “Hey” I hear him say. I turn around seeing a still irritated Roman walking towards me. “What the fuck was that” he says. “What was what” I say with a smirk. I swear you could see steam shooting from his ears. “You made it seem like I was bitch out there” he continues. “Did I? Or have you just finally met you match, and you’re embarrassed that your match is a woman half your size” I say sharply. Roman goes silent for a while just staring at me. “Or is it because you know you want to pick me up right now and fuck the frustration out of me” I say giggling and turning around to walk away.

I feel Roman grab my arm firmly. He pulls me in close to his body, his cologne smells like heaven. He picks me up, pushing me against the wall and pressing his soft lips against mine. I wrap my legs around his thick torso as his big hands squeeze my firm ass. I begin ripping my clothes away while he unbuckles his pants. Neither of us are thinking about if anyone is left in the building to see us, we really wouldn’t care anyway.

He picks me up again, pressing himself into me causing me to gasp at his size. He pins my arms against the wall and begins stroking. He glides into me like he has a point to prove. He plants kisses on my neck sending shockwaves down my spine. This man both infuriates me and sends me into a lustful frenzy. I push my arms off of the wall while he continues to stroke me. I wrap my arms around his neck, pushing his face into my breasts. He slips one into his mouth effortlessly and I can already feel my climax riding.

He moans into my breast as his strokes become sloppy. I reach my climax and yell loudly while Roman quickly covers my mouth. He lets out a muffled groan as he quickly pulls out, shooting his load at the wall under me. We both stare at each other, breathing heavily. “Hello?” We hear a familiar voice from around the corner. We rush and put ourselves back together. Sami turns the corner “Oh….. what are you guys doing?” He says looking at the two of us. “None of your business” Roman says emotionless “Go tell Solo start training for his mixed tag match” Roman glances over at me……. I always get what I want.

#roman reigns #roman reigns one shot #wwe #wwe smut #wwe fic #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x female

[pixxxieland]

EDDIE MUNSON| Neighbours (final) pt.3

authors note: this took me so long. smut is so hard to write. btw this is unedited and idk if i liked the ending. anyways enjoy. probably will write some one shots idk

warning: smut, drugs, language 18+ plz

EDDIE POV

As soon as the door closes i can’t help but throw a couple celebratory kicks and punches in the air. The air feels thick, it smells of her menthol cigarettes, weed, and her perfume. Smells like heaven, my hand goes up behind my back to pull my white hellfire shirt over my head. “ Fuck, one kiss can’t hurt.” not bothering to put the shirt back on i run to my door opening it quickly to be surprised with y/n also ripping her door open. I can’t help but stare at her in awe, she is absolutely perfect… her white sock scrunched around her ankles she has a couple thin beaded anklets wrapped around her right ankle, her shirt is way too big for her it seems like it’s going to swallow her whole. She steps closer towards me, i do the same i would do anything to be closer to her again, “ hi.” her quiet little voice is music.

“ can’t sleep?” i say cooly, not wanting her to know how much of fuckin goon i am. Her feet shuffled a little bit closer to me, those green eyes glazed and bloodshot squinting a little bit under the guise of a nervous smile. I take my time analyzing every inch of her beautiful face, taking notice of all the tiny things that catch my attention, the little tendrils of brown curls that hang by her face that she sweeps behind her ears so often, the freckles sprinkled on her button nose. Among my favourite things, the little gold hoop in her septum and nostril piercing, the tattoos that cover most of her skin. But her smile… god that is perfect, it shows her perfect little fangs.

Looking down at her white cotton socked feet smiling, she sweeps her arm up and tucks a curl behind her ear. “ no, i don’t think so… not without a kiss.” Y/n’s eyes brimming with lust as well as hesitation, so she had the same idea… i wanted to take things slow- to not scare her off but it seems as though she is a infatuated as i. Not to say i haven’t like girls before, or that i haven’t been with any- but it’s her, i can’t stay away. The week after or first meeting i blared music at all hours, early morning, late at night just to get her attention in hopes that she would come tell me to ‘shut the fuck up’ but she didn’t. I really could bare rejection from her in any form.

“ A good nights kiss it is then.” and with that our mouths collide in a frenzy of kisses, teeth clashing, tongues dancing, her spit-sweet as candy. She takes my bottom lip between her teeth and gives it a tug drawing a spot of blood, “ ouch.” i say pulling away from the kiss to touch my finger to my bloodied lip. Her hands slip around my face to pull me closer, her tongue slips out of her mouth and swipes across my own licking up the blood.

fuck

“ i’ll be having sweet dreams tonight, Munson.” her hands drop to her sides, mine slide down to find her hips and give a small squeeze. I can’t help but swoop down to cradle her face and plant a kiss on her forehead.

“ can i see you in the morning?” she says before turning to walk back into her apartment, i give her a nod before retreating to mine. “ obnoxious satan worshipping music starts playin at 7, right?” she poorly winks at me. Her small body leaning again the door frame,

“ i could have kissed you a lot sooner if you hated my music that much. I think you like it, you didn’t come to complain.” my hand pushes through my hair and i shrug. y/n rolls her eyes and closes her door, “ whatever Munson.” could be heard faintly through her door.

the next morning

Y/N POV

You had tossed and turned all night thinking about Eddie, the kiss you shared, the chemistry between you two. It’s electric, you hadn’t been around a group of people and Eddie but you’re pretty sure that you would still be drawn to him… Since Eddie normally plays his music obnoxiously loud in the morning, you decide it’s your turn, your feet bare feet hit the cold floor and scurry over to your sound system, Robin had made you a mixtape of all the music you guys listen to well you’re together.

Don’t you- Simple Minds the popular song from the movie Breakfast club is the first song, in anticipation you unlock your front door hoping that Eddie will respond to your loud music. Retreating to the kitchen the idea of making Eddie breakfast rolls around in your mind, you could keep it simple and make him some pancakes, although you don’t have maple syrup… “ i wonder how he’d feel about strawberries and whipped cream?” you say aloud while grabbing ingredients from the fridge, a couple days ago you had gone to the farmers market and purchased too many strawberries, at least they’re getting used and not thrown away after going bad in a few days.

You’re standing again the counter with almost all of you kitchen utensils out on any flat surface in the kitchen, with knife in hand slicing up the berries on a wooden cutting board swaying and singing with the song, you pop the red fruit in your mouth feeling the juices burst on your tongue. The music had been turned up so loud that you couldn’t hear Eddie sneak in the front door and slink up behind you. His ringed hands slip around your waist and wraps his body around yours finding a comfy spot in the crook of your neck, before heading to bed last night you had decided to tame your messy curls into two little space buns on top of your head, you weren’t sure if they would hold over night but it was a way to get the unruly shit out of your face. You were pretty surprised to see that they did i fact make it through your night of tossing an turning.

“ mm- i like these little buns. Y’look like princess leia.” Eddie mumbles against your extended neck. He places hot little kisses all over your throat and shoulder. You snort ready to correct him, “ Princess Leia had braided buns that sat at ear level, my buns are at the top of my head, i am an alien- and these” you put down the knife and point to the two buns, “are my space buns.”

“ fine, fine, space buns- whatever my little martian. you look cute.” Eddie let go of your waist and moves toward the counter beside you, he leans against it still shirtless and in a pair of back jeans. Did he sleep in jeans? your eyes can’t seem to look away from his naked torso, he’s quite pale, there is a few black outlined tattoos across his arms and rib cage, one on his chest. your eyes trail up his body and to his face. His lip is a little fat and there is still some dried blood on the corner of his mouth, right where you left it.

“ did you sleep in your jeans?” your eyes settling on his bare abdomen, the little trail of hair leading down beneath his jeans. He isn’t overly muscly but he is toned he has light abs that are highlighted when he moves or stretches. Honestly you’re still in awe that he even wanted to be around you- let alone kiss you.

“ No, i slept naked…” a smirk plays against his lips and his eyebrows raise in a playful way challenging you, “ i just didn’t think the whole apartment building needed to see me naked coming over to your place first this in the morning.” Eddie takes a step toward you, leans down and places a kiss on top of your head. There they are, the swarm of butterflies are back, they circle your stomach leaving a warm pit there.

“ o-oh, yeah i guess people don’t need to see that- huh.” he makes you nervous, the words can’t seem to come out confidently. He continues to watch you as you make breakfast, handing you utensils every once in awhile but mostly just disrupting the process with kisses and being in the way.

“ do you like to cook?” he inquires while sitting on the stool in your kitchen in front of the window with a cup of coffee and a cigarette resting between his fingers. Eddie looks so good like this, it feels like he belongs here in your home shirtless waiting for you to tell him breakfast is ready. you’re not much for ‘domestic bliss’ but something just feels right with Eddie, he feels like home.

“ yeah actually, i find it pretty calming. i prefer baking- you just follow a recipe and everything is perfect and it turns out right. i wish everything was like that, life especially i guess… i don’t know what i’m talking about. yes. i like to cook.” Eddie listens closely to what you say to him, he doesn’t judge but it seems as though he understands.

“ no, no i get it. it’s the same with my music. i just sit down and i play my guitar and all is right with the world, y’know? it’s kind of a similar thing, if i don’t play the right chords it’s doesn’t sound right… i’m just following a music recipe.” so he does understand you a little. the pancakes are almost done and his practically salivating watching you flip the last pancake over in the pan. the apartment smells like vanilla and strawberries. you walk towards him with a plate full of pancakes in one hand and bowl of strawberry syrup you had made in the other hand. he watches as you struggle to put the plate down around the small amount of clutter on the table, he scrambles to his feet and moves the stack of books,papers and other random items and takes them over to the coffee table placing the books and papers nicely stack in the middle of wooden table.

“ you know i would have been fine with coffee and cereal.” he says pulling a chair out for you, his voice soft and full of gratitude. he is not what you expected him to be, he is kind, and gentle, he doesn’t talk over you he actually listens to what you say to him and makes it known that he’s interested in what you’re talking about. most of the guys you have dated were dickheads, they interrupted you, didn’t call when they said they would, one of them hit on your mom.

“ yeah,don’t get used to it.” your eyes roll at Eddie and bring your fork to the plate with pancakes on it and take two, you reach toward the bowl of strawberry syrup and take the spoon into your hand, drizzling a little bit all over your pancakes. Eddie watches you as your hand comes up toward your mouth and lick the sticky sweet syrup off your fingers. He grabs your wrist before you could get all of the strawberry of your finger and brings your finger towards his pink full lips, his eyes peer at your in a way that asks for your permission- you nod.

his tongue swipes the tip of your finger and his mouth close around it, embracing your digit coating it in his saliva. “ yum.” he says releasing your finger from his mouth and licks his lips, he smirks at the expression strewn across your face. your mouth dropped open into an ‘O’ shape clearly showcasing your surprise at ed’s boldness.

“ do you taste this sweet everywhere else?” his voice low almost a growl, he pulls you toward him yanking you out of your chair and onto your feet so your standing looking down toward him as he sits in the chair across from where you were sitting previously. you can’t make out his expression at the moment, he looks as if he wanted to consume you, and that’s exactly what he wanted to do.

“ you will have to taste me to find out i guess.” the words come out as a seductive whisper. your wrist still in the grasp of his big metallic covered hands, this is bad, very bad. you thought about what it would be like to have him between your thighs licking and sucking your sopping wet core, just the thought of him moaning into your bare cunt gave you a sharp pang in your stomach almost as if it dropped. you feel wetness pooling in your cotton panties, knowing that if he touched you- sticky wet clear strings of arousal would cover his long fingers. eddie’s brown eyes dart between your pressed together thighs and your face, you weren’t sure of his next move but you hope it involves you cumming all over his face and hands. eddie stands up-towering over you, his hands drop your wrists and take up residence on the back of your neck, pulling your head up to look at him. without any warning his dominant hand dips between your thighs flat against your soaked cunt. you’re bursting with anticipation and excitement, eddie groans knowing what he has done to you.

“ come on pretty girl, let’s get you undressed.” his demeanour is gentle now, time to change that.your eyes never leaving his-holding the eye contact intensely as you step back towards your couch and take a seat on the soft velvet armrest, you wrap your arms around yourself and pull your tank top off letting your bare breasts fall out and jiggle a bit before being cupped by Eddie. his eyes remained wide and full of desire as he drags his thumbs over your pierced nipples. you currently have plain black bars through them with black stopper balls as well.

“ you are so beautiful.” eddie mutters lunging hungrily towards you putting his mouth all over your heaving chest nipping and licking at your pebbled hardened nipples. “ holy fuck- i can’t wait to make you feel good, my girl.” now he’s pushing you back into your sofa, bare back hitting the soft material. you watch him as he crawls over top of your, eyes deranged and animalistic.

he is going to wreck you.

eddie’s hands rip into your pyjama shorts. in one quick pull he has them down around your ankles. suddenly- you’re feeling a little bit exposed, so you bring your hands toward your glistening soaked pussy and cover it from his view. he stops, and pulls himself up onto his hands to get a better look at you, his body language changes.

“ what’s wrong?” his brows furrowed with concern, and eyes soft like a doe. he was actually concerned with you being comfortable, you didn’t have much experience with respectful guys honestly. most of the time if you covered yourself in that way while hooking up with someone else they wouldn’t even recognize your hesitation or uncomfortability. not wanting to ruin the moment you sheepishly uncover yourself.

“ don’t make it a big deal or anything but i’m just.. i- don’t know? self conscious with how it looks.. i’ve never actually seen it but i guess it’s just an insecurity.” you shrug feeling your face get hot and pink. eddie’s hands run down your body as he sit up on his knees and pulls your body up toward him to prop you against the couch.

“ this.” he says grabbing your desperately wet cunt with a flat palm, “ this fucking pussy is gorgeous, next time you touch yourself i want you to look in the the mirror and watch yourself cum.” he dips his fingers in the entrance of your hole, just teasing not fully letting you feel any relief. a little moan escapes your lips, he smirks devilishly at you, leaning in closer to your ear whispering unholy things. the air is thick, finding it so hard to breathe with eddie looking so deliciously turned on above you. his fingers start to work themselves on your swollen begging pussy, his thumb stroking your little nub in small circles making you writhe with pleasure. his movements stop abruptly letting you whine for more.

“ you’re so soft what’s your shaving routine.” he runs his hands on your pubic bone, and down your inner thigh. everything was completely hairless, no razor bumps, or ingrowns. this is something you’re proud of, your hair never grew in thick or coarse to be honest you normally just a little tuft of wispy hair right above your slit.

“ i actually get waxed, a razor will never come near this thing.” you point your fingers down toward your cock hungry cunt. this gorgeous man shuffles down to ground and places himself between your thick, soft, sunkissed thighs and stared in awe. it was almost as if he had never seen anything so pretty and pink before, the color of your sweet pink little fuckhole matches your lips and your hardened nipples.

“ such a pretty pussy baby, i bet you want me to taste you.” eddie says sweetly while caressing your wetness. “ don’t you?” he makes direct contact with his mouth almost swallowing you whole. you look down at the messy head of brown curls between your legs, his metal rings touching your soft inner thigh making you jump from the coldness. he’s got a grip on your ass and is shoving your naked pelvis in his mouth.

you are a melting mess on the velvet sofa trying to hold yourself together for eddie’s sake. he doesn’t need to see you sobbing while he devours your pussy. a tight knot is forming low in your belly waiting to come undone, you could finish on his face or you could cum on his cock. you were definitely hoping you could do both, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up thinking that he could make you cum vaginally. the heel of your hand pushes eddie’s forehead up to get his attention.

“ mm- i wanna cum now..” the words sound pathetic through your whines and groans. you are a sticky mess between your legs, also starting to leave a wet patch on your sofa. eddie peers up at you through thick lashes and wipes his wet face with the back of his hand. he swipes his thick long fingers through your folds collecting a mix of his saliva, and your arousal on three fingers. without skipping a beat he sucks your juices off his fingers staring you in the eye.

“ you wanna cum baby, let me take care of you. make a mess of my face princess.” eddie pleads- face returning back in your cunt. you had thought about this for days, you wanted to sit on his face, for him to tongue fuck you into oblivion. you wanted him to make you cum so hard you turn stupid on his tongue. the knot starts to come undone, heat building in your belly, toes curling.

“ ye-yes. yes holy fuckkkk.” you mewl, your thumb in your mouth muffling your angelic noises, “ im gonna cum!” eddie picks up the pace- kissing and sucking your clit, hands roaming your naked body usually falling upon your bare tits. he groans against you creating a delicious vibration as you come undone in his mouth.

Eddie stands up proudly with your clear sticky cum all over his face and mouth, he licks his lips and motions for you to lean up and plant a kiss on his lips. “ i was right my little slut, you taste so fucking sweet. i want you to taste.” without warning he runs his whole hand over your sopping wet sensitive bud. you jump at the overstimulation, making a pathetic whine as you twist away from the man in front of you.

“ open.” the words commanding a submissive response. his fingers waiting in the air for you to open your mouth wide for all four digits to be shoved in your mouth gagging you, holding your jaw open. his other hand busy rummaging in his pocket for a condom. he frees your mouth from his hand to take off his pants, you didn’t know what you were expecting but you definitely weren’t expecting a fucking horse cock. it so big and thick- full of veins. the tip is pink and throbbing, dripping pre cum in anticipation of your hole.

“ fuck me raw,eddie.” you plead, bottom lip sticking out into a pout. eddie’s eyes widen and without another word he’s flipping you so your ass is pressed against him. your draped over the back of the couch so he can fuck you from behind.

finally you feel contact, he is rubbing his mushroom tip through your wet folds, teasing your hole. his one handing gripping a handful of ass.

this is it, that moment when his cock slides right in, filling you up entirely. stretching your tight little cunt to the girth of his thick member. you feel his pelvis rub against you, every inch he has is pressed up inside of you, clenching around him in hopes of the knot forming. he is relentlessly fucking you, the sounds of skin slapping and panting fill the air. he stops for a moment to turn you around and kiss you wet and sloppily on the lips, he grabs the back of your thighs prompting you to jump up and wrap your legs around his slutty little waist.

eddie doesn’t waste any time, because any moment his cock isn’t in your warm hole is agony. he sits back down on the couch with you on top of him, he lines up his dick beneath, you can’t take another second without his cock drilling into you. eddie helps you lower yourself on to himself, there is a second where you slowly slide up and down on him, looking at each other lustfully, caressing each others flushed warm faces. genre changes up pretty quickly as you play with your own tits, dewey and covered in sweat. the valley of your breast adorned by a large moth tattoo, he admires you as you tug and pull at you nipples. your head is thrown back riding his cock almost screaming as reach your finish line.

“ yeah cum with me you fucking goddess, i wanna feel you clench around me as i fill you up with my nut.” he grunts holding your hips thrusting up hard into your sore cunt, his movements begin to get sloppy, his grip moves to your ass trying to make his movements as precise as he can in his moments of ecstasy. your cunt is being being filled with warmth, his cock twitching in sensitivity- lips parted and muttering sinful phrases as finishes.

you’re still straddling his lap, dick still inside. you collapse in puddle on top of him nuzzling your face on his chest breathing heavily. eddie’s arms wrap around your waist, drawing small curl legs on your back lovingly. you hum against him as he tries to slip out of the wetness.

“ mmm- not yet. please.” your lips pressed against his tattooed body, feeling exhausted. his movement stops, instead he kisses your sweaty forehead and pushes the curls sticking to your face away from it, repeatly petting your head in comfort.

you feel so safe

so taken care of.

“ come on baby girl, let’s go clean up and we can lay in bed, want me to run a bath or do you want just a warm cloth.” his voice soft and comforting as he stands wrapping your little legs around him carrying your dead weight to the small bathroom. he set you down on cold counter, your bum dipping into the sink a bit, his hands hold onto you steadying your wobbly body.

“ just a cloth please, i’ll take a bath later.” your voice small and quiet against his body still, tilting your head to look at his handsome features. Eddie’s cheeks still flush from the previous activities, curly hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks, dick still coated his cum as well as yours. you lazily smile up at him as your tired body finally gets the strength to sit up on your own and point to the drawer beside you assuming he was looking for a cloth.

it takes both of you a few minutes to clean yourselves up and put some new clothes on.

you now have a pair of your high-school cross country running sweat shorts on, they’re grey and worn a little bit too small for you as you’ve gotten a little bit curvier since high school and a white and purple striped tank top it’s cropped and stained with hair dye. not in your most flattering outfit but eddie can’t help but stare at you as you crawl into your queen sized bed. he was just lounging in his tight black underwear still shirtless, eddie has propped himself up on your various pillows his lips hang onto a lit joint.

“ y/n you have too many pillows. these are not coming with you when you come live with me.” you eyes dart up to him with a sneaky smile playing on your lips, you can’t believe he said that.

“ munson, what makes you think i’m gonna move in with you?” you say settling beside him after placing the bottle of water on ur nightstand and take the joint from between his lips placing it between your own,he blushes but doesn’t lose any confidence.

“ c’mon you know we can’t stay away from each other, i give it a month. you or i will basically be living at either mine or your apartment and going back and forth wasting money on rent when you could just cave in and live with me and get your pretty little fuckhole pounded like that morning, noon, and night.” eddie’s says nonchalantly shrugging both shoulders in the process.

he’s not wrong

i’m obsessed

“ my pillows are coming with. and things need to be put on lower shelves or get me a step ladder.” you negotiate knowing that he was right, you two had no plans on staying away from each other. a big smile creeps onto his face as he leans toward you to plant a kiss on your bare shoulder. you look at him ,“ you know i didn’t forget about you stealing my birthday money. i hope you’re a better boyfriend than you are neighbour”

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #robin buckley #stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie smut #eddie x reader

[crybabyalexxx]

The One Where Peter Parker Is A Sub

Sub!Peter Parker X Reader

Summary: The reader finds out that Peter is a sub and she loves every second of it. What could go wrong with a little teasing?

Warnings: submissive peter parker, dom reader, smut of course, BOTH ARE 18+, sex in school, unsafe sex (wrap before you tap)

A/N: I haven't written fanfic in a good MINUTE so I'm so sorry if it's not as good. And I also have never written a peterXreader, yup first timer over here. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did!

Word Count: 2k

When you first met Peter Parker, he was a shy and awkward kid. He only really has one friend, Ned, and they were basically inseparable. You and Peter both had English class together and he drew you in like a moth to a flame. It was the little things he did, like the way his eyebrows would rise when he was suddenly called on when he was surprised. The small smile he would make when he got an answer right, then a lightbulb went off in your head.

Peter Parker is a sub.

Of course, you were more than eager to test your little theory, but in order to do that, you had to actually talk to the kid. So you did what any reasonable teenage girl would do, you talked to him. After a few weeks of small talk and occasional flirting, Peter was stuck to you like glue. It was as if you were the missing puzzle piece for the duo. Ned and Peter adored you and couldn't believe a person like you would want to actually hang out with them, you weren't shy at all. You stood up for people in need, you stood up for them. You were quick with your comebacks, you were extremely funny and nerdy. Not to mention extremely sassy, god you were so sassy and Peter felt intoxicated every time he was with you.

Peter wondered if Ned felt this way with you too if everyone felt this way when they were with you. He wouldn't blame them if they did, but he felt a pang of jealousy every time he thought about other people liking you the way he did. How could he not like you? You were stunning. The way you carried yourself was one of the things he loved most. Like everyone else in school, he couldn't stop looking at you when you first walked into the classroom. Not only because you were absolutely gorgeous but because his spidey senses went crazy the second he saw you. He didn't understand why at first. Maybe it was just a fluke, but then after a few weeks, he noticed it would happen every single time he saw you. It's not like he was complaining though. He had the hardest time focusing when you were in class together though.

He could feel your eyes on him every time, and when his eyes would meet yours you wouldn't look away, you'd just smile and he would blush. He blushed so much with you and you loved it. It was small things that would make the brown-haired boy blush. Like when you’d complement his outfits and the way his biceps look bigger when he wore his blue button-up shirt.

Then there was the touching. Peter thought he would pass out every time you touched him. It started out small, placing your hand on his arm when you would laugh at something he said. Or how you would play with his hair when he'd put his head down while studying. Then he noticed how you would touch him in other places that got his heart racing. You would brush your fingers against his, or when you whispered to him you were lingering a little longer and he could feel your lips brush against his ear. Just that would make his head spin. He didn't know if you knew what you did to him or if you were completely oblivious. He sometimes wishes you would do more though. He would imagine what it would be like to finally have you, to feel your lips against his, your hips flushed against his. The way you’d moan his name. Peter would often get carried away with his thoughts about you, and he didn't care. He was drunk on you and he loved it.

“Hey, Peter?” Peter was lost in his thoughts again and you hated to interrupt him in his thoughts because he looked so cute to you.

Peter jumped slightly, not realizing you had sat beside him. “Oh um, hey y/n! Didn't realize you'd be here so soon.” Peter was slightly flustered from the thought he had of you seconds before you showed.

You noticed the way his blush was slowly making its way down his neck and chest, and how his pupils were blown, and how he was breathing a little harder. He’s horny.

You giggled softly and decided to have a little fun with him today. “Well, i could leave if you'd like and come back-”

“No! I mean, not that’s okay you're here and we should erm, I mean I don't want you to leave.” Peter couldn't seem to stop rambling, and you saw how much the poor boy needed help, and you couldn't just sit there and not help someone in need.

You grabbed Peter's face with both your hands and leaned in close. Peter felt like the entire room froze. He looked down to your lips and prayed that you would kiss him right now because he's been dreaming of it. And you almost did until you heard him whimper, and all you could do was smile.

“Peter Parker, did you just…” you leaned in to whisper into his ear, your lips brushing his ear, “whimper?” You could feel his breath fan against your neck and shoulder. You leaned away from him to find him with his eyes closed and lips parted. When he finally opened his eyes he found you smiling at him. His eyes went wide as he realized what had just happened. “Y/N I am so sorry I don't know what I was thinking!” Before Peter could continue, you stood up and pulled him with you. “Follow me, Parker.”

You pulled Peter out of the library and into an empty classroom. You were glad that school was out and there was practically no one in the halls, which meant you wanted Peter to scream for you. You locked the door as soon as Peter walked in and covered the window just in case anyone decided to pass by.

Peter could feel the hairs on his stand-up straight, he was breathing hard and he could feel the blood rush down and his pants get tighter. He heard the door lock and turned to see you staring back at him. His spidey senses were going off like crazy, and although he knew he wasn't in any type of danger he still felt like prey.

You pushed him into the chair behind the teacher's desk and straddled his hips. “Tell me to stop and I will. Do you want me to stop?” You slowly grind down on him, feeling him grow from beneath you.

Peter’s head was dizzy and he wanted nothing more than for you to continue with what you were doing. His head rolled back when you ground down against him again, his hands flew to your ass to feel the roll of your hips. “Please don’t stop.” He swore this is what heaven felt like.

That was all you needed to hear. You continue to grind down as you start to kiss him. You'd imagine how it would feel to kiss Peter, but you never imagined them to be this soft. If it weren't for the fact that you were in a classroom right now, you would kiss him for hours. You had to pull yourself away from him if you wanted this to go any further.

“Take your clothes off, pretty boy.” Peter seemed to be eager because, by the time you were down to your underwear, Peter was already naked in front of you. The little smirk you gave him made him blush and you moved closer to him.

“I could stare at you all day, but I really want to taste you right now.” You pushed him back down on the chair as you got on your knees. You couldn't believe how massive he was, but you always did love a challenge.

Peter could feel himself grow, the way you were looking at him had him shaking in seconds. He just wanted you to touch him already. The worst part is that his senses were going crazy. He could hear how fast your heart was beating, he could still taste your lips from moments earlier. He could smell you, you must have been soaking and all he wanted to do was please you and let you do whatever you wanted. He just needed you to touch him already.

“Y/N, please.” Peter sounded like a wreck and that is exactly how you wanted him.

“Please what? Use your words, pretty boy.” A little teasing never hurt anybody.

“Please just touch me already! Anything just please I-” Peter’s head fell back as your mouth and tongue finally touched his aching red tip. The way you were sucking and licking was nothing he has ever felt before.

You could feel him shake as you continued to suck his tip. You noticed how tense he seemed as if he was holding himself back. You decided to push a little bit more of him inside your mouth. This seemed to knock the wind out of him because he came leaning forward as if someone punched him. You looked up at him as innocently as possible and couldn't help the moan that came out of you.

Peter swore you were trying to kill him, then when you moaned his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he thought he saw stars. Peter could feel the way your tongue moved against him, the way it was pressed against that certain vein. The way your moaning sent vibrations and he didn't think it could get better than that.

The way Peter was gripping the chair made you weak in the knees. If you weren't already on your knees, they would have given out. You looked up at him and couldn't resist the urge to run your hands up his abs and play with his nipples, you felt him twitch in your mouth.

“Y/N I'm- ung- close!” Peter could feel himself get closer to his release and god he wanted it. “Please ride me, please y/n.” Peter could feel the way you smirked with your lips wrapped around him.

“How can I say no to that?” You get up and gently slide him inside you. You both moan as he stretches you. As you start to slowly ride him, you decide to hide his moans by kissing him. Peter wanted to stay inside you forever.

You wrap your fingers around his throat and he gasps. As you ride him you lean closer to his ear and whisper, “fuck me, Parker.”

Peter let out a low growl and wrapped his arms around you as he pounded into you. You had to cover his mouth with your hand suddenly aware that you were in school.

“Peter, I'm coming,” you whisper to him. And as soon as he heard those words Peter was coming inside you, igniting your own orgasm.

You and Peter help each other ride out your orgasms and stay there for a couple more seconds. The two of you finally decide to get dressed.

“So, is this like...a one-time thing?” Peter dreaded the question, but he had to ask.

“Do you want it to be?” You look at Peter and you could see the panic in his eyes.

“No! I mean, no. I really want to do this again. And then maybe some more after that...please.” Peter could feel his blush creeping up on him, especially with that smile you're giving him.

“Don’t worry Spidey, I want to keep doing this too.” You giggle softly to yourself. He’s the cutest.

“Okay good because- wait, did you call me spidey?”

“You aren't so good at keeping secrets from me Parker.” And with that, you walk out of the room with Peter hot on your heels.

#alexxx writes #sub!peter #sub!peter parker #sub!peter parker x dom!reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker #tom holland #mcu fanfiction

[loveaffaire]

Seasons

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings/tags: a bit of angst, fluff, cheating (not by Peter/reader), Pete being a hopeless romantic as always

Word Count: 1.3k, I swear these blurb requests are turning into full one shots because I love Peter being completely whipped by the reader :(

A/N: @spiderholland101 I’ll be honest, I’ve never heard any of those songs so I picked a bunch of lyrics and built a story around it, just 1.3k words of Peter being desperately in love with the reader! Enjoy <3

🤍JOIN MY SLEEPOVER🤍

Summer - Heaven help a fool who falls in love

Peter tried not to stare at you but it was hard when you were sitting two seats away from him in chemistry class. Your skin looked as soft as cotton, lips plump and covered in strawberry chapstick, hair softly shining in the sunlight coming through the window.

His heart would beat a little faster every time you’d laugh, his breath would hitch each time you’d run to him in a crowded room, a smile would find its way on his lips the second his phone would light up with a text message from you.

It’s gonna get messy so don’t fall in love with your best friend, you fool, he’d tell himself.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Autumn - You've been on my mind girl like a drug

Peter stood still in the middle of the school entrance as he watched you kiss Harry, his hands in your hands, a smile on your lips. It was like getting shot in the head and no, he wasn’t exaggerating, that is exactly how it felt to see your best friend that you are in love with be in love with someone else.

He pulled himself out of his daydream of repeatedly punching Harry in the face and rushed towards you. You pulled away from your boyfriend as soon as you heard footsteps approaching you, a smile settled on your lips when you saw Peter.

“Ready to go?” Peter asked, completely ignoring Harry and you nodded. To his dismay, Harry didn’t let go of your hand without giving you a very steamy kiss right in front of him.

You made small talk on the way to his house and Peter tried to focus on anything other than the kiss you and Harry shared just a few minutes ago. And when you sat on his bed, eyebrows frowned in concentration over chemistry, Peter’s eyebrows were frowned for a whole other reason. Thoughts of you getting too busy in your love life and forgetting him creeped up on his mind and you noticed.

“What’s wrong, Pete?”

“Uh… can’t understand this question”

“You weren’t even looking at the question, you were looking at me” your voice low as you scanned his face, “did I do something?”

Peter’s eyes widened, “no, y-you didn’t do anything, nothing”

“Okay so what is it?”

Peter sighed, biting on his lip because he was nervous and too afraid to say something wrong but he decided to be honest, “just scared you’ll get too busy with Harry and stop hanging out with me, it’s just a thought”

You were taken by surprise by this but soon, the sound of your soft laughter filled the room, “forget about you? We’ve been friends since forever, no boy is ever going to come between us Peter”

Peter’s eyes glimmered at your words, his cheeks turning rosy as he processed your words.

“Anyway, I’m too scared that you’ll forget about me because I saw you hanging out with all those smart science kids earlier today” you teased, your forefinger wiggling in his face as he shook his head, smiling.

How can I forget about you when you’ve been on my mind like a drug, he thought to himself.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Winter - I wonder what it's like to be loved by you

The cold came and the days turned ugly, one text message to Peter and he was running to your house in the middle of the night.

You saw Peter through your window and opened the door, running into his arms. The impact was so hard that he almost fell back as your hands clutched on his jacket.

“He cheated on me” you cried, voice strained from the previous screaming match with Harry over call.

Peter held you close, walking back inside your house and closing the door behind. As soon as he let go of you, you fell down to your knees and he got down right in front of you as he wiped your tears with his sleeves.

“He doesn’t deserve you, Y/N” he said sincerely. His hands holding the back of your head to make you look at him and he almost kissed you that night. But he didn’t because what if you push him away, one heartbreak was enough for tonight anyway.

As he watched you weep on his shoulder for a boy who clearly didn’t deserve you, he wondered how it felt to be loved by you and if he’ll ever get to be loved by you at all.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Spring - Wouldn't it be nice to live inside a world that isn't black and white

The colours were a bit brighter than before, the leaves and the flowers blooming again in the soft spring wind. Just like them, you were blooming too. You were the old Y/N again, the same old Y/N who was there before Harry came along and ruined it.

The glow in your eyes was visible, your smile felt more real now and you felt more comfortable in your skin than you did 2 months ago. Peter even helped you pack a box of all the things that your ex-boyfriend left at your place and you later sold those things at a thrift store.

Peter started seeing more of you, he would either be at your place after school or you’d be at his and sometimes, you’d go to the ice cream place near his place on a hot day.

As he watched you munch on your ice cream cone, the vanilla on your lip looked a bit more appetising then it did when it was on the cone and he almost leaned in to have a taste.

“Is there something on my face”

“No”

“Why are you staring then?” you smiled and raised your eyebrows at him.

“Oh, shut up” he rolled his eyes, “come on, let me walk you home before it gets dark”

With you walking by his side and the way your knuckles gently brushed against his made him realise how much brighter his world looked now. How wonderful it was to live in a world which wasn’t black and white anymore and it was all because of you.

❥ ‑‑‑‑

Summer - Honey I love you

The sun was setting, both of you returning from the summer fair and he finally gained the courage to hold your hand on the way back home. The hot weather was making your palm sweaty but Peter couldn’t care less. You were literally here, holding his hand in yours and he didn’t want to let go.

“Peter”

“Yes?”

“Will you say it?”

Peter frowned in confusion, “say what?”

“You know what” you bit your lips, a bit of sadness in your eyes.

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about” Peter stuttered.

Peter was clueless. For a straight A grade student, he was pretty dumb when it came to love and you.

“So you will just never tell me that you are in love with me?”

Peter halted in his step and that halted you in yours. His hand slightly loosened its hold on yours in horror but you were quick to tighten your hold on his hand, even tugging him closer to yourself so you both were face to face.

“You know?” He finally spoke up, voice in a whisper and mouth agape in shock.

“It’s hard to miss when you’re right there staring at me with your big brown doe eyes” you softly giggled, feeling a bit shy now, “and how you get flustered when I compliment you, how you always have my back and how you always pick me up, it’s obvious that it’s more than just… friendship”

Yes, you knew. You have been waiting for him to say something, anything at all to show you that he loved you but as time passed and still no word from Peter, you finally took matters in your own hands.

Peter was speechless and you have had enough, you sighed and let go of his hand. Peter almost collapsed when you placed your hands on either side of his face and pulled him in.

You filled the gap between you both as you pressed a soft peck to his lips and his eyes fluttered like butterfly wings, savouring in the feeling of the airy kiss. Your lips felt like a light feather, barely there but just enough to make him feel lightheaded for a second.

You pulled away quickly but then pressed your forehead to his and closed your eyes tightly, “honey, I love you”

You said it like a promise, your chest felt a little lighter when the words were finally out and Peter’s heart started racing in his chest again. When he finally processed what had happened, he didn’t waste another moment as he pulled you back in for a kiss.

“I love you” he whispered, words muffled with his lips never leaving yours, “I love you, Y/N”

He repeated the words multiple times, telling you ‘I love you’ for every single time he couldn’t in the past and your eyes watered at the intensity of emotions soaring in your chest.

As he stood there kissing you, his mind went back to last winter and how he wondered how it would feel to be loved by you but now he didn’t have to wonder anymore. He knew how it felt to be loved by you and it felt like heaven.

Anyway, hopeless romantic Peter, my beloved🥰

#loveaffaire’s 1k sleepover #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker one shot #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker angst #peter parker fluff #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagines #peter parker headcanon #peter parker blurb #peter parker smut #peter parker oneshot #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfiction

[syntheticavenger]

All You Need

This is my submission for @gotnofucks​ Body Positivity challenge. I won’t be doing a lot of posting at the moment but I did want to try to submit something. Dibs, this is such a wonderful idea and I love it! A huge thank you to @punemy-spotted​ for helping me settle on a plot!

Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Language (Negative self-talk about the body), angst and a positive ending.

Summary | Steve whisks you away for your first weekend together to take your mind off of work but sharing a bed together brings back insecurities you’d tried to hide.

It isn’t until you see the hotel coming into view, majestic against the backdrop of the mountains as the afternoon sun shines down, that you realize you left your bug repellent at home.

Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue, except you aren’t staying in one of the big suites where you can enjoy the landscape in peace from the balcony. Steve decided that he wanted to try one of the cabins that the hotel is known for, right out along the lake. You were excited to get away from work, your first official weekend together since you’d been a couple.

Bug repellent.

You need it.

When the car is parked, Steve kisses your cheek, telling you to stay inside as he goes to check in. You relax in your seat, looking around at the different landscape. You can appreciate the leisurely way the hotel employees walk, smiling at each other with a wave. Work in the city is obviously much more hustle and bustle and you find yourself wondering if you could ever give it up and move somewhere quiet.

You chew on your lower lip while you think about this weekend. Steve has been looking forward to this for weeks. He’s going to teach you how to fish, have a campfire by the lake and more importantly – at least to you – this will be the first time you will be sharing a bed together. The thought makes you nervous, knowing that you packed accordingly, especially knowing he will be so close. Yoga pants and an oversized shirt to sleep in, to make sure he doesn’t see what you always try to hide.

The door opens and he’s carrying two big brown bags, placing them into the backseat.

“I got you two different kinds of bug repellent,” Steve tells you, holding them up for you to see. “I saw the look in your eye and I figured you left something at home.”

“Extra strength?” you tease. “You’re too good to me.”

When he gets in the car, he squeezes your hand, gently enough for you to know he wants you to be happy.

“I know you this isn’t the beach you are used to and I promise, we’ll do that. I just figured a little time away would help. You’ve been working so hard, sweetheart. I’m glad you’re able to take a little break. We’ll have fun,” he promises you, bringing your hand up to his mouth to kiss it softly. “Trust me.”

-

The cabin overlooks the lake, Steve refusing your help to unpack the groceries as he herds you over to the couch.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing. I got it. I’ll bring you a drink in a little bit,” he tells you, disappearing around the corner as you hear the fridge open and close. You lean back onto the couch, closing your eyes for a moment. It is peaceful, you’ll give him that. No sounds of traffic or people talking loudly. You can feel yourself relaxing as your shoulders lower.

You feel Steve in front you when you open your eyes, offering you a drink with a coaster underneath it.

“I’d sip it slowly,” Steve warns you, eyeing you as you bring the glass to your lips. “There’s a little -”

You sputter and cough, covering your mouth as it burns going down your throat.

“… Asgardian liquor in it,” he finishes with a smile. “Just a small bit but it packs a punch.”

You nod at his warning, clearing your throat as you set it down on the table to let the ice cubes melt a little, even if you aren’t sure that it will help.

You take your drink with you into the bedroom, stopping at the massive bed in front of you. The ice clinks in the glass as you take a longer sip, the liquor burning down your throat. Steve’s spent the night before, you tell yourself, unsure of why you’re suddenly nervous.

After another sip, you place the coaster and the glass on the dresser, unpacking your toiletries as you hear Steve rummaging around for something in the closet. The liquor makes you warm already, unbuttoning the second button on your shirt while you step out of the bathroom.

“Wanna go for a swim?” Steve asks, heading into the room while you freeze for a moment.

“I didn’t pack a swimsuit,” you admit. “I don’t even own one.”

“Really? We could have gotten you one before we got here. It’s alright, just figured since it was warm that maybe you wanted to go swimming.”

“I don’t swim,” you say with a shake of your head, thinking back of all of the times you tried on different swimsuits, the way you hated how you looked and what it showed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart. It’s a little warm for a hike, is all so I’m trying to think of an alternative. You feeling okay?”

“The liquor,” you answer with a sheepish smile. “It’s strong.”

Steve laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Are you hungry? It’s getting dark so I’d say fishing is out of the question but I can make us an early dinner.”

“I was going to take a shower. Dinner sounds great.”

“I’ll get dinner started and I’ll have a glass of wine waiting for you when you get out.”

-

Stepping out of the shower and wrapping the towel around you, you let out a slow breath, your toes sinking into the soft bathroom mat as you stare at yourself in the mirror. When you’re alone, you know they are there, the marks etched into your hips and down your thighs and right below your lower back.

When the bad thoughts wash over you, you want to speak them into existence, your lips trembling with the thought. You’ve been so good with treating yourself kindly and you don’t want to go back to how you used to be, when you would say the words to yourself that you wouldn’t even say to your best friend.

Your fingers trail down your hip, tightening the skin to see the marks slightly disappear. You’ve tried everything. Body oils, skin creams and even exfoliation and nothing works, at least not for you. You can’t imagine Steve running his hands over your body.

Not when it looks like this.

“Ugly,” you seethe, tears welling in your eyes.

You’ve broken your promise to yourself to treat yourself with kindness and you wipe away the tears, drying off quickly as you apply your lotion and pull on your clothes. It feels better to conceal it, under the leggings and oversized shirt, as opposed to the shorts and shirt set you’d bought at on whim when your confidence was higher.

When you open the door, Steve is waiting, a glass of wine in his hand as he examines your face.

“What’s the matter?”

You know you should keep it together. You’re stronger than this, you tell yourself. But the way he asks the question, blue eyes filled with concern as he places the glass down and places his hands on your arms, rubbing them gently to soothe you.

“N-Nothing,” you answer, blinking back tears. “Bad thoughts again.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” you whisper, looking down. “Maybe later.”

Steve nods understandingly, like he always does because he’s perfect in that sort of way before he looks over his shoulder at the table.

“What about dinner? Are you still hungry?”

When you nod, he breathes a sigh of slight relief, pulling out your chair as you sit.

Grilled chicken and sundried tomato pasta waits for you, your mouth watering at the scent. It’s one of Steve’s favorite hobbies when he’s not away – he and Bucky randomly started watching the Food Network and started to have their own challenges – and you were able to eat the fruits of his labor.

At the first bite, you savor it, aware of how Steve is careful to avoid the topic of your tears. The conversation flows to what he’s planned out, waiting for you to decide if it’s a good idea or a bad one. He’s so thoughtful with what he’s decided that you find yourself excited for a hike and a visit to a brewery that is at the end of a trail. You’re excited to explore with Steve by your side most of all.

After dinner, you both wash the dishes together, Steve washing while you dry, ever so often sneaking a kiss that makes you laugh.

Dessert is making s’mores near the dock, Steve watching your features as the fire in the fit grows.

“Relaxed?” he asks you, handing you a plate with the gooey marshmallow and chocolate concoction.

“Very,” you answer, taking a small bite as you hum in pleasure at the taste. “This is heaven.”

You hear him laugh as you eat, mind off of your thoughts from earlier. For now, it’s just the sound of the cicadas and the breeze. A far cry from your apartment and you’re grateful for these moments. Even more so, grateful for Steve.

-

By the time you get inside, your shirt smells smoky and you wrinkle your nose at the scent, pawing through your bag while Steve changes his shirt. It’s effortless for him, your eyes scanning down his perfect body as you feel a wave of sadness. You wish you could do the same but you head into the bathroom to change, yanking up your leggings to cover your marks before you let the shirt fall back down.

When you crawl into bed, you fit perfectly into Steve’s arms, snuggling against his chest.

“Thank you,” you begin, letting out a soft sigh. “I needed this.”

“I’m glad,” Steve murmurs against your lips before he kisses you softly. “You were long overdue for a break. I wish we could stay longer.”

“Me too.”

When you kiss him back, the little boost of courage in the back of your head tells you to keep going as Steve’s grip on you tightens slightly as he lowers you gently onto the bed. His hand grazes down your ribs and at the hem of your shirt when you break the kiss.

“Wait,” you squeak, putting your hand over his as he stops, jerking your body toward him. “Can you turn the light off?”

“Sure, sweetheart,” Steve answers, letting you go as he gets up to turn it off. “Everything okay?”

You realize how jumpy you were and you try to answer.

“I don’t like the lights on,” you admit, feeling the dip in the bed as he returns. “I’m sorry.”

He smiles at you and you want to tell him the truth. That you can’t fathom how he would handle seeing your body.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he reminds you gently. “Whatever helps make you comfortable, I’ll do it.”

But you know your response to him and what that means as he keeps his distance, wanting to respect you and your boundaries.

You turn on your side, hot tears spilling down your cheeks, your fingers pulling down the hem of your shirt to make sure it doesn’t ride up. At your soft sniffle, you hear him call your name and you lift your head.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” you begin, your voice wavering. “I didn’t want you to see.”

“See what?”

“My-my marks,” you admit, curling into a ball as you hear him sit up.

“What marks? Sweetheart, talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I have,” you gulp, closing your eyes as shame washes over you. “Stretch marks. They’re ugly, Steve. I don’t wear a lot of things because of them. They are all over and I hate them and there’s nothing I can do but stare at them and wish they would go away.”

It’s out in the open now, your sighs shuddering with every breath. Now he knows the truth and you wait for his response.

“Stretch marks,” Steve repeats quietly. “I think you’re perfect.”

“You haven’t seen them,” you hiccup. “Trust me, they’re not cute.”

“I know two things,” Steve says, settling down against you, his warmth soothing you. “One, it’s a natural reaction. The body’s way of taking care of you. It means your body is doing its job. No one has a perfect body.”

“You do,” you sniffle.

“I don’t and I wasn’t always in this bigger body. I still have some scars, they’re just faded because of the serum but they’re there. It means we are living, sweetheart. Those marks don’t make you. They are there because you are a beautiful, living breathing human being with a heart of gold, a beautiful smile and you have a body that I love because it belongs to you,” Steve praises against your ear, holding you close. “Second, I know that there is nothing more important to me than you feeling comfortable in your skin. If I have to remind you every single day for the rest of my life that you’re perfect to me then I’ll do that because you mean the world to me. But you have to see it. I’ll just be your cheerleader over here, hoping you see yourself the way I do.”

His hand is on your hip and you grab it, pulling it up under your shirt as you place it near your side.

“Do you feel them?”

The pads of his fingers ghost over your skin.

“I just feel an amazing woman that I can’t get enough of.”

The acceptance of what you know he can feel and what you know to be true from his words makes you smile slowly. You and your body have been on a journey and you know that it’s time to be kind to yourself. These marks are a part of you, telling a story without words and you know that none of them are the same.

Uniquely shaped and nothing to be ashamed of.

“Promise?” you ask, cuddling against his solid chest.

“I promise.”

#tw: negative self talk #tw: body negativity #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #dibspositivitychallenge

[rekrappeter]

finding a true love’s kiss

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: you couldn’t stand fred weasley, yet you were best friends with george weasley. it was a strange dynamic until you end up in detention with fred and he reveals a secret he has been hiding for years

warnings: not proofread, written weeks a part, inaccurate Harry Potter vocab probably, shitty ending

notes: this was originally for @lunalovecroft‘s writing challenge but I wrote one part like two months ago but hopefully it’s still legible to some extent. prompt used was “you can hate people and still think they’re hot”

"How long have you and George been friends?" Katie Bell aimed the question at you, diverting your attention from the burgundy rug underneath you to the curious eyes of your roommates anticipating your answer. You were all sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, creating a circle as you delved into the usual Friday night gossip session.

Pondering on the question for a second, you shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly, "since the beginning of time it seems."

"Yet you've never... did it?" The girls squealed around you, clapping their hands in excitement. With wide eyes, you denied the question to no end.

"Did I have sex with George?" You spluttered out, feeling your face flush, "absolutely not."

"Why not?" Angelina pushed, wanting to get more details from you.

"I'll have you know," you started, lifting yourself from the floor and making your way to your own single bed, "myself and George are only friends, that's it."

Angelina eyed Katie as you turned your back to them, stripping from your white buttoned-up shirt and replacing it with a cozy pyjama top. "What about Fred?"

The silence was deafening, no one dared to laugh or squeal this time around. You stared down at the white material dangling from your fingertips, a sickening feeling forming at the pit of your stomach. When you scoffed, the girls’ shoulders loosened and they let out a sigh of relief when you turned to them with an amused smile on your face. "Fred and I can’t even be in the same room together for longer than needs be, never mind long enough for us to... do the deed."

“I don’t know, y/n,” Katie drawled on, standing up and walking over to you, she squeezed your shoulders as she said, “I think it’s all the sexual tension building up.”

Pushing her away from you, you faked gagged in their direction, “You two are crazy.”

“I just don’t understand how you can be best friends with one twin, and hate the other one,” Katie laughed, changing into her own pajamas and climbing on top of her unmade bed. “But we see the way he is around you.”

“Yeah, an ignorant jackass,” you chuckled, flopping down onto the bed.

“More like a boy picking on the girl he has a crush on,” Angelina said.

“Please, don’t make me sick,” you shuffled into your bed, pulling the quilt up to your chin. Angelina switched the lights off, leaving you in complete darkness. You listened to her maneuver in the dark, trying to dodge the mess you all made. Hearing her muffle profanities made you giggle, assuming she walked into something or kicked a lifeless object.

“You know, y/n, you can hate people and still think they’re hot,” you rolled your eyes at Angelina’s words, twisting in your bed and letting out a loud exhale into the pillow.

“Thanks for the words of wisdom, but Fred Weasley is not hot,” your voice was filled with distaste, your lips smacking together loudly to get your point across but you knew it would fall on deaf ears. Your friends never listened when you told them over and over again that you weren’t hiding feelings for Fred, the relationship you had with him will forever be non-existence.

It was safe to say that the conversation from the night before had left a sour taste in your mouth. You were woken from a sweet slumber by the sound of birds chirping through the opened window; normally, you’d groan in annoyance but enjoy the sound. This morning, however, was different. It was as if the birds had clawed their way into your brain and changed a few wires, you climbed out of the bed with the sudden urge to crucify the loud creatures. One look at your face and Angelina was twirling on her heels and made her way out the dorm room, leaving you to your own devices.

Mornings were usually the quietest time of the day for you. You would get up and skip down to breakfast but this morning you couldn’t even work the courage to plaster a fake smile on your face as you entered the Great Hall and your mood remained foul at the sight of Fred Weasley sitting beside his twin brother. Heaving in a sigh, you sat across from George and started piling the breakfast onto your plate.

“Jesus, don’t you look awful this morning,” Fred’s voice echoed through your thoughts.

Snapping your head in the direction, your eyes narrowed, “you really want to start this early?”

“This started a long time ago,” Fred snapped back at you, the smirk on his face making you roll your eyes to the heavens. You ignored him, looking at George who has a pleading expression on his face.

“Don’t even say it,” you mumbled, reaching for the milk and pouring it into the bowl of cereal in front of you.

“There’s no point, I’m sick of saying it,” your best friend said.

You ate silently, listening to the twins bickering and there was something about Fred’s voice that was eating at you. Despite knowing him for years, it was familiar, more familiar than usual. You glanced up from your spoon, unconsciously connecting your gaze with Fred. You shocked yourself by not looking away or flipping him off, and it surprised you when it looked as if he fell into a dream. The longer you looked at him, a warning signal was going off in your head  and then something clicked in your brain. All the color drained from your face, fear striking through your body.

“y/n, what’s going on?” George asked, grabbing your hand but you pulled it back and scrambled from the table, walking quickly out of the hall. Everything came flashing back - everything you dreamt about last night.

“You’re being so damn annoying today,” you hissed, pushing Fred away from you as he reached across the table to grab something. It was just you and him in the kitchen of the Burrow, a place you spent numerous holidays but it was quieter than usual.

“You’re annoying every day,” Fred retorted, taking a bite of the red apple. He leaned against the countertop, looking at you flicking through the book in hand. You rolled your eyes, stalking away from him but you could hear his footsteps follow you, “Why do you hate me?”

You looked over your shoulder, brows creasing in confusion, “What?”

“Why do you hate me?” Fred repeated.

“I don’t hate you, Fred,” you muttered softly, feeling the air thicken around you. You turned to face him, watching him swallow awkwardly and you could see it in his eyes; he didn’t hate you either. Without another word being uttered, you closed the gap between your bodies and connected your lips to his.

“Fuck,” you muttered angrily, remembering the dream that soon turned into a nightmare. You’ve never dreamt about Fred before, he may have been in the background of some but he was never the main character, he was most definitely never the love interest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“That’s a lot of fucks given,” George chuckled, pushing his way past students walking towards The Great Hall, “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, G.”

George raised one brow in the air, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he examined you closely, “You sure about that?”

“Positive,” you popped, brushing your hair out of your face and stepping out to the courtyard, “Just remembered a nightmare.”

“Want to talk about it?” You immediately shook your head, earning a laugh from George who nodded understandingly. “Most likely about my brother being a dickhead, aye?”

“Something like that,” you laughed, trying to push the lingering face of Fred to the back of your mind.

The day slowly passed by, your mood gradually getting worse throughout it. Every free second that your mind was preoccupied with studying or maintaining a conversation with someone, it wandered off to the same red-haired that starred in your dream last night. It wasn’t the usual thoughts that you had about Fred that consisted of wanting to punch him in the face or lock him in a broom cabinet. It was worse than that, you found yourself seeking him out and admiring how he twirled his quill between his fingers. The anger that usually washed over you whenever you looked at him was non-existence. It was more of a longing feeling and it terrified you.

You had spent the majority of the day in the library, not wanting to confront George and definitely not being able to be in the presence of Fred. You were slowly making your way back to the common room, trying to procrastinate it as much as possible hence why you took the long route around the castle. What you didn’t expect was to hear an explosion from up ahead and a strangled yell of annoyance but it was enough to put the puzzles together.

Just as you were about to round the corner, a figure stumbled into you and knocked you to the floor. You gripped out for the robes that made you lose your balance and brought them to the ground as well with them landing on top of you. A flash of red-hair made you groan and your eyes connected to Fred’s wide brown ones. It startled you, the image of him kissing you making your stomach nauseous.

“Shit, get up!” Fred exclaimed, jumping from your body and he waited for you but you were still in a shocked daze. He groaned and gripped your robes, pulling you up and running along the corridor with you trailing behind him. “In here,” he demanded, opening the door and pushing you inside with him.

The rough gesture brought you from daydream, realisation kicking in and you pushed Fred away from you. “What the hell?” you yelled, fixing your robes and hair that was a mess but you were consciously aware of them now.

“Shut up,” Fred demanded, covering your mouth with his hand. Your eyes widened again, feeling your heart hammer against your chest at the close proximity of his body to yours. Your eyes darted around his face, his eyes closed as he tried to listen intently to whoever was searching for him. The freckles danced along his nose, similar to how George’s were but with Fred, they were evenly spaced and spontaneous. His eyes lashes were full and long, you envied them. His lips were uneven, his top lip thin and his bottom lip full but they looked so kissable in that moment. When his eyes fluttered open after seconds of silence, your eyes lingered on his for a moment longer. You wondered if he felt the shift in emotion between you, or if it was one-sided. “I think it’s safe.”

You feigned a roll of your eyes and licked the palm of his hand, earning yourself a look of disgust from him. “I don’t even want to know what you did…” you mumbled, glancing around the room he pushed you in; an unused office except it was piled with broken chairs and tables, unopened boxes were on top of each other, some materials spilling from them.

“Of course you don’t, it’d be too much fun for you,” Fred retorted, stepping away from you and stumbling over a box behind him. You laughed loudly, ignoring him flipping you off as you opened the door to the office and stepped outside, only to be met with the peering eyes of Professor McGonagall.

“Professor..” you gasped, trying not to stare too much at the black ashes swept through her hair, “W-what happened to you?”

“Funny you should ask, Miss y/l/n,” her glasses hanging at the end of her nose, “I’m not at all surprised to see you, Mr. Weasley, however, y/n, I do hope that detention tomorrow will give you enough time to think about your actions.”

“P-Professor -,” you stuttered but you were cut off.

“This office looks like it needs a good tidy,” McGonagall peered into the damp and dark office, “It’ll at least keep you both busy on a boring Sunday, without magic.”

You stalked away from Fred when McGonagall excused you, the anger was bubbling inside you and you ignored his chuckles as he followed you back to the common room. “Wait up, y/n.”

You twirled on your heels, getting ready to give this man a piece of your mind when you looked over his shoulder to spot the other twin making his way towards you. A grin was on George’s face until he spotted the two of you, and it deflated just as quickly. “Where did you go?” He asked Fred, shoving his shoulder.

“I bumped into this headwrecker,” Fred pointed towards you. You narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “McGonagall found us.”

“And we both have detention tomorrow,” you deadpanned, glaring at the twins.

“Oh,” George mumbled.

“Oh? Oh? That’s all you can say,” you sighed in frustration, “Because you two are complete gits, I have to sacrifice a whole Sunday and spend it with this twat.”

“I don’t know which bit she’s more annoyed about,” Fred whispered under his breath to George, but you could hear him clearly. You groaned and marched towards the common room, not seeing George and Fred share a look of amusement.

“I’ll give you one guess,” George laughed, shoving his brother again and following after you.

The dreaded hour of the clock struck and you were leaning against the cold, brick wall with your feet stretched out in front of you. Your eyes were glaring at the locked door of the office you misfortunately got dragged into yesterday evening by your so-called enemy. Your developing feelings for Fred ceased before they even got the chance to blossom into something real. The trouble he caused you left a sour taste in your mouth, a permanent frown on your face.

“Miss y/l/n, good morning,” Professor McGonagall greeted you, her eyes scanning the empty corridor for a certain ginger twin but she sighed and shook her head disappointingly when he was nowhere to be seen. With a quick swift of her wand, the door glides open and you follow her into the room with a heavy exhale. “Please do use these hours wisely, maybe even consider building bridges.”

The frown deepened on your face, first because of what she had implied and then secondly because your eyes danced around the room and it looked even worse than what you remembered. Ignoring her previous implications, you questioned her desire to how tidy she wanted this room. With an echoed laugh, she turned her attention to the door barreling open and Fred slipping through the door, “Ah, Mr Weasley, just when I was starting to get worried.”

You turned your back to Fred, not having the energy to deal with him, and you missed the smile he sent your way. “You know I’d never disappoint you, Professor.” You rolled your eyes at the charm lacing through his tone, distancing yourself as far from him as you could and started stacking tables on top of one another. You grimaced at the layer of dust flying around you and tried to swat it with no success. The sound of Fred chuckling made you glance over your shoulder to see him standing there alone, the door clicking on McGonagall’s way out.

“What?” you snapped.

“What?” Fred mimicked you, sitting down on a random chair. He kicked his feet up on a desk, tilting back in the chair slightly and swinging his arms behind his head.

“So what? You’re not going to do anything?” you asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “You got us into this mess.”

“You’ll actually soon realise that if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have got caught.” Raising your brow in his direction, you challenged his statement. “If you weren’t being weird and staying at the library, I wouldn’t have bumped into you and we wouldn’t have been in this office.”

You scoffed, “If you weren’t such a dimwit, we wouldn’t have been in this office.”

“Dimwit, wow,” Fred chuckled, “What age are you, five?”

You stared at him in disbelief, shaking your head and letting out an annoyed sigh, “Just do some fuckin’ work.” You turned on your heels, letting his next sentence fall on deaf ears as you blocked him out. You tried to ignore him as best as you could, the next thirty minutes passing by excruciately slow. It seemed that after five minutes of sitting, Fred got bored of his own company and started stacking chairs and pushing them into the corner with ease.

“Where are you spending the holidays?” Fred asked, breaking the silence.

“Why do you want to know?” you retorted earning a groan from him. You turned your attention to him, watching him lift his navy jumper over his head. Your eyes fell to the exposed area of his abdomen as his t-shirt got caught in the process, you felt yourself becoming flushed and looked away quickly before you got caught. “I’m going to my Grandma’s,” you gave in, finally answering his question.

“I thought Ginny mentioned something about you staying with us.”

“Y-yeah, that was the original plan but I have to go back home,” you mumbled, feeling the sides of your mouth twitch.

“Is everything okay?” Fred asked, he sat on the top of a desk, his legs dangling beneath him. You found yourself closing the gap between your body as the conversation went on, becoming weirdly comfortable with him. This was probably the longest you have ever been in the same room with Fred alone and the hatred that was so often accompanied between you was elsewhere. It felt strange.

You shrugged your shoulders, not knowing what has got into you, why were you opening up to Fred Weasley? “I got a letter from my parents last week, grandma is ill so..”

“That’s understandable,” Fred sighed, his eyes lingering on your features. You avoided his eye contact, feeling the air thicken between you, “Why do you hate me?”

The question caught you off guard and he could tell straight away when your eyes snapped to his and your brows creased together, “What?” you choked out.

“Why do you-”

“No, I heard you,” you snapped, running your fingers through your hair, “What made you ask that?”

Fred pouted, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he thought of a reasonable explanation as to why he was trying to change the dynamics between you. “Honestly, I don’t know, I just want to know why you hate me so much.”

“Fred, why do you hate me?”

“Because you hate me,” he chuckled. His words made you laugh, shaking your head and when he looked up at you, he couldn’t help himself but start laughing as well and soon enough, you both were laughing together in disbelief.

When the laughing died down, you were standing closer to him with a smile tugging on your lips, “You’re a bit of a twat,” you said.

“And you’re a bit of a princess,” he smirked, his brown eyes sparkling in amusement. It was easy to see the differences between Fred and George; in your eyes, they looked completely different. George’s smirk made you want to cradle his face whereas Fred’s smirk made you want to slap it off his face, with your own lips. The thought awoke you from the daze you were in, panic washing over you to see Fred’s features softening. He let out a shaking breathe before he wrapped his fingers around the material of the checkered shirt you were wearing. The startle movement made you stumble forward, but before you could protest, his lips found yours swiftly. For a split second, you felt yourself float away, to a place where there was none of this back and forward conflict. A place where you could relish in one another's company.

It was a happy place, but that was before your eyes shot open and a loud gasp ceased the moment. You pushed him away, wiping your lips with the sleeve of your shirt. "w-what the bloody hell was that?"

You wanted to smack the smirk off Fred's face, the amusement swirling in his eyes irking every bone in your body. "c'mon, it was bound to happen.."

Any ounce of respect that had developed in the last couple of hours that you gained for Fred completely vanished and he could tell by the way you were gawking at him in shock, “It was never going to happen,” you snapped. You stepped away from him, shaking your head.

“y/n, it’s all too expected,” Fred tried to defend him, sitting up from the table he was leaning on, “in all those movies and tv shows you watch, the two that hate each other the most usually fall in-”

“They’re movies, Weasley!” you shrieked, the walls shaking with the tone, “They’re fantasy, they’re… they’re not real life.”

“Why can’t they be?” Fred wondered aloud.

It took you a moment to process his question, your eyes shifting to look at him finally. You watched him gulped, his bottom lip sucked under his teeth, and it all fell into place. The vulnerable look on his face, the pleading in his eyes, made you soften slightly, your heart hammering against your chest. “D-don’t tell me you love me,” you whispered.

Fred’s shoulders lost all the tension they held, drooping down along with the frown on his face that gave you all the answers you needed. “I’m sorry,” he spoke softly.

“Fred,” you breathed out, “This is bizarre.”

“You’re acting as if I had a bloody choice in the matter,” Fred hissed, his long fingers running through his hair, brushing it away from his face.

“Of course you do!”

“No, no I didn’t,” Fred stalked up to you, his body towering over you but he wasn’t angry or annoyed, he was desperate, “I woke up one morning and had these sudden feelings for you, but do you understand how hard it was for me when you couldn’t even be in the same room as me?”

You opened your mouth to answer him, but common sense made you see it was a rhetorical question, so you closed it and only stared up at him with wide eyes. There was nothing you could say in this moment to make it better or to make any sense of it. “When?” was all you asked.

“Christmas,” he answered honestly, making your brows cease together, “three years ago.”

“Three years?” you gasped, “Why did you act like you hated me?”

Fred sighed, creating space between your bodies again, “I thought the more I pretended to hate you, eventually my heart would catch up and stop loving you but..” He turned his back to you, swallowing back the heartache he was feeling and placed his hands on the table in front of him, his hands balled into fists. But he only fell in love with you more.

“I’m sorry,” he heard you whisper, the feign touch of your hand on the back of his shirt before it disappeared just as quick. Fred took a few moments to himself, trying to control his breathing and when he turned around to face you, he was met with emptiness. You were nowhere in sight, your bag that rested on the back of a chair gone as well. “Fuck,” Fred mumbled, wanting to scream into the abyss but pulled out his wand and muttered a quick spell to tidy the rest of the office up, trying to hold back the tears that wanted to escape.

Fred hid under the radar for the weeks that passed, hardly being the usual trickster that people were fond of. Everyone that passed the sulking boy in the corridor sent him looks of confusion, some even asked if he was okay to which he brushed them off. George had become worried when it was week three without tormenting any of the professors, and because George was worried beyond reason, you were non-stop hearing about Fred and it pained you knowing that you were the reason for his sudden change in behaviour.

Christmas came and went, the snow started to melt and the leaves were blossoming once again. It was safe to say you were enjoying the peace and quiet in Hogwarts, not having to come up with a comeback every five minutes to fight off the irritation that was Fred Weasley. Deep down, however, there was an abundance of loss. You missed him. It shocked you more than anything but it was true. You missed the sound of his voice, you missed his smart ass comments, you missed him more than you ever thought you would. Maybe there were some underlying feelings and your mind was brought back to the dreams that he occupied, the theme of them made it feel more real.

Sighing into your breakfast, you came to the realisation that morning that you had in fact had feelings for Fred Weasley. “What’s got you mopping?” your eyes lifted to see George sitting down in front of you, no sign of Fred anywhere. The Great Hall was rather crowded for this hour in the morning, there was a buzz in the air.

“I just realised I had feelings for someone,” you admitted loudly, earning every inch of George’s attention, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

“And what are you going to do about them?”

Your eyes connected with your best friend’s stare, your brows creasing together. “You know?” you asked hesitantly, earning an eye roll from George.

“It’s not hard to put two and two together, kiddo,” he chuckled, pouring himself some orange juice, “he’s down at the Quidditch pitch.”

There were so many questions running through your mind but there wasn’t much time. The feelings were overwhelming and you were near sure that you’ve missed your chance with whatever could possibly blossom between you and Fred. You darted from the Great Hall, pushing past crowds of students, ignoring their displeased looks and ran like your life dependent on it towards the Quidditch pitch. When you arrived, your lungs burning and your heart racing, your mood deflated seeing the area completely empty. With your hands on your hips, you tried to catch your breath, sweat beading on your hairline. “Fuck,” you breathed out, turning on your heels but only to halt in your step at the sight of Fred Weasley.

“Looking for me, y/l/n?” he questioned, his voice not as daunting as it used to be. It was flat and soft, something new for him.

“You’re the guy that pretended to hate a girl for years to make her fall in love with you, right?” you asked, a small smirk tugging at the ends of your lips. Fred rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “What if I told you it worked?”

“I’d say buzz off and stop messing with me.”

There was a moment between you and Fred, a moment of understanding where he stared at you from where he stood, the pleading in both of your eyes that showed this was just as awkward for you as it was him. It was different. The change in your interactions was something to get used to, wanting to be around Fred was new. Wanting to kiss him was a thought so out of this world that it blew you away. “I’m sorry I had you sulking for so long.”

Fred chuckled, taking a few steps closer to you until there was just enough space to breath in. For the first time in his life, Fred felt nervous staring at the person that he longed for for so long. “It would have been easier for us both if you just told me you felt the same that day.”

“Life’s never easy, is it?”

“Not when you’re involved,” he winked, the familiar smirk making its way back to his face for the first time in weeks, “I know I didn’t ask permission last time, but..”

“Yes,” you breathed out, this time being the one to wrap your fingers around his collar and pulling him towards you. Your lips pressed against his, the kiss soft and expected this time. Your lips moved in sync, his arms circling around your waist and pulling your closer. The kiss was perfect, and it was something you could get used to.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fluff #fred #fred weasley imagines #weasley twins #harry potter #Harry Potter imagines #Harry Potter fanfic #Fred Weasley fanfic #fred fanfic #Fred Weasley tiktok #weasleytok #freddie #fanfic

[sundaysundaes]

Before Our Story Began

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 7.4k | College AU Summary: The popular new kid at your campus has this habit of raising his eyebrows when he flirts and you just realized that maybe you have a kink for it.

It has the same setting as my previous Mark Lee X Reader’s stories (Our First Time and Drunk Antics) but if you’re not into Mark (I’m not judging but what is wrong with you) you can just skip those two because this story can be read separately. 

Before dating the socially-awkward, yet utterly adorable Mark Lee, you have had your fair share of relationships that are now reduced into the form of awkward friendships. Your last boyfriend was Lee Donghyuck—who also publicly known as Haechan—and that fact does not sit well with Mark, because well, they were the best of friends. They still are, but it feels like they’re walking on thin ice whenever you’re in the picture so you try your best to stay away from your ex just to make sure everything is all right with the three of you.

Which is quite weird, knowing how close you were with Haechan before.

It was weird in the beginning, but fate really did play a major role in your relationship. You were in your second year of college and you’d managed to pull yourself together by that time, though you hadn’t really made any real friends yet. You weren’t aware of Mark’s existence either at that point, though he probably had with him being your long-time secret admirer after all. You were too busy trying to adapt to the new college and dormitory life, as well as trying to keep your grades up, that you could barely spend some time socializing with people. Project partners and study buddies were really as far as you could go with the term of friendship during your first year.

Your relationship didn’t exactly start as friends with Lee Donghyuck. Even though he had made tons of friends since his orientation days in college, you were certainly not one of them. You didn’t even know he existed in your world, and neither did he. Younger than both you and Mark, Haechan shone like the sun almost in every aspect of his life and unlike you, people had surely noticed that because he was academically smart, physically good-looking, very social and adventurously funny. It didn’t take long before he became popular at your campus. So popular, in fact, that you heard chatters of his name when you walked down the campus’ hallway with your textbooks in your arms. You had only known his name but not his face, so you didn’t really feel nervous or overly excited like any other girls would’ve probably had when you accidentally sat next to him during public speaking class and saw that he had a silly note stuck on his back, pressed against his black hoodie.

“Hey,” you called, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough so the people around you wouldn’t notice. “You’ve got something on your back.”

The boy was young, and he had the smoothest golden skin you’d ever seen on a boy. You would probably kill to have his perfect sun-kissed skin. He had slightly chubby cheeks and a mop of dark brown hair with bangs falling over his eyes. He was slouching forward in his seat with his arms draped over his table, staring lifelessly at the board. His lower lip was jutting out in boredom and slight annoyance, reminding you of a five-year-old boy missing his favorite cartoon. He threw a glance to the side, looking at you with big, chocolate brown eyes, and his eyebrows raised in question.

“What?” He asked and you pointed to the back of his hoodie with your pen.

“I won’t judge if it’s the kind of thing you’re into,” you said, “but I don’t think placing a note behind your back with the words Spank Me, Mama, written on it is the best way to actually, you know, get it.”

He blushed and he blushed so hard that it made you think huh, he’s kinda cute, but you buried the thought right away. You had promised yourself to focus better that year. Falling head over heels for a fellow student on the first day of your new term was not the right way to do it.

“Right, thanks.” He struggled with the note, reaching behind his back as if his skin was on fire. You were about to help when he finally snatched the paper and read the words under his breath, eyes widening in shock.

“I assume that’s not your handwriting?” You were amused but tried your best not to tease him so much.

He did this pout that actually kind of fit his face, probably because he still had that baby face going on. Most of the guys you knew would look immensely disgusting if they pulled that kind of pout. Take your brother, Johnny, for example. Even the thought of him doing that already made you feel like punching your fist against a wall.

“I would weep myself to sleep if my handwriting was this bad,” he grumbled and you smiled secretly to yourself. He turned to you, an awkward grin painting his face. “Sorry, my friends are assholes. Do you happen to know a swamp nearby where I can dump dead bodies without being found out?”

You nod. “I know a place but it’s no longer free, though. They charge you, like, ten thousand won per body. Which is why I’m broke.”

His timid grin grew into a bright smile, probably feeling quite elated that somebody shared the same type of dumb humor as him. “I’m Lee Donghyuck.” He sneaked a hand under a table and you took it for a handshake, answering him with your name. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Most welcome. You can save me back later when I have the words spank me, daddy, glued to my back.”

“So your friends are assholes too?”

“It’s what people have in common these days, I suppose.”

But when your professor spoke louder to make sure he didn’t any other noise in the room except his own, you had to cut your conversation short and only threw small grins at him every now and then.

When the class ended, you both parted ways with nothing more than a small wave of a hand and a casual, “Well, I guess, I’ll see you later.” You thought it would be too weird to get even friendlier than that, and he probably did too. You admitted that he was cute, but not cute enough for you to ditch your next class and make out with him in the nearest parking lot. You thought you were going to see him again soon anyway, probably the next week when the same class started.

And you were right, but you wished you weren’t because Donghyuck came back to your class the following week looking like a full-course meal.

Donghyuck probably had his hair cut short somewhere on the weekend and it looked absolutely fucking perfect on his head. His bangs were no longer hiding his eyes, and it was clear to you then that Donghyuck with his forehead seen, combined with those thick beautiful eyebrows and mesmerizing round eyes, were really something to behold.

He didn’t notice you were already in the class when he walked in, with his bag slinging on one shoulder. Some rowdy boys were shouting at the back of the room, “Haechan-ah, over here! Saved you a seat!” And Donghyuck grinned at them, waving his hand before he walked toward their seats and you thought Lee Donghyuck is Haechan?! That Haechan?! And mentally slapped yourself on the face when the flashback hit you. You had the chance to talk to one of the most popular boys in school and you talked about swamp and dead bodies.

Absolutely fucking perfect.

After you managed to collect yourself, you couldn’t hold back this urge to sneak a few glances to the back of the class, trying to catch a glimpse of that beautiful forehead of his—which you realized by then that you had some kind of a kink for it—without having him notice you.

But he did. He did notice every time you tried to secretly stare and he reciprocated each time with a smile, raising one of his eyebrows almost dangerously seductive at you and you thought goddamn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve seen in my twenty years of living I don’t know what is.

You offered your best effort to stay fucking calm despite everything that had been going on in your head, waving one hand at him with a small—hopefully not creepy—smile on your face. You immediately turned around right after, swallowing your breath, and tried not to vomit because your stomach felt like it was about to lurch out of your mouth. It wasn’t really an unpleasant feeling; it was just kind of new to you and you loathed the way your heart was slamming against your ribcages.

Okay, you mentally calmed yourself, get a hold of yourself. No need to panic. He’s just another cute boy, with a cute haircut, and a cute smirk, and a cute forehead and—

You really didn’t like where it was going.

When the class ended—and you didn’t learn a thing about it—you shoved your iPad back into your bag and let out the loudest sigh you had ever made in your sorry life.

“Bad day?”

Haechan’s voice was next to your ear and though you only jerked slightly on the outside, most of your soul had actually gone to heaven—or hell, from all those dirty thoughts you had about him during the last two hours of that lecture.

“Yeah,” you cooly replied. Thank God, your voice didn’t betray you. “My swamp is full again. I have to start looking for a new place.”

AM I SERIOUSLY TALKING ABOUT ANOTHER FUCKING SWAMP—

But Haechan was laughing about it, not too much but the amusement on his face was genuine. “It’s cute that you remember our previous conversation.”

“It’s cute that you do too.”

“Well, actually, that’s what I’ve been thinking about for the last week,” he told you with a smirk on his face. You dared to bet on your life that he was flirting with you and you were about to scream out of joy but you reminded yourself to play it cool.

“I don’t think it’s a conversation worth remembering,” you commented nonchalantly.

“Not if I had it with anyone else.”

You almost fell from your seat. “On second thought, it was a pretty interesting conversation, what with the—”

“Noona.” He suddenly leaned close, laying one hand on your desk to prop his weight. There was that smirk again—the one with his eyebrow raised. “I’m trying to flirt with you and ask you out on a date, if you haven’t noticed.”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears at that point. You had thought about it—about him asking you out—but your imagination did not do justice on how smooth and confident or how goddamn attractive he looked in real life. “Oh.”

“Oh.” He imitated, smirking a bit wider and you were dazed with how bright he shone. “So, can I take you out for lunch? Not anywhere close to swamps full of dead bodies, I swear.” Then after a small pause, he added, “Unless, that’s what you’re into.”

“Shut up,” you retorted, standing up and gathering all your belongings into your arms. “You’re paying.”

He laughed softly to himself, trailing after you with a cheeky grin on his face. “This swamp thing could be our thing, though.”

“Shut up.”

***

Haechan was not one to take it slow, you remember, which is way different from how Mark does things with you.

It wasn’t like Haechan was overly aggressive—as far as boys go, he was pretty normal about the whole dating and sex thing—but he really just head straight to the point whenever he had something in mind, whether it was by a sudden change of topic in your conversation, or acting it out directly with his body.

While Mark tends to plan things, Haechan just did everything out on a whim. You could be talking about science fiction movies at a cafe at one point, and ended up with having your clothes soaked with water by the next few hours because he suddenly felt like the day was too hot and jumping into the campus pool fully clothed was a good idea. You weren’t sure why you’d said yes to all of that when you just barely knew him but Haechan could be very persuasive. So dangerously so, that you would probably say yes to anything.

It was on your third date when he suddenly bent his head down and cut you in the middle of your sentence with a kiss. It was only a small peck, a quick pressing of his plump lips against yours, but it still managed to literally stop you from breathing for a good couple of seconds.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling away with his eyes still staring at your lips. “I was… distracted.”

You knew it was lust in his eyes and you were familiar with yourself enough to know that you usually preferred to have your first kiss after you knew the guy for a certain amount of time. But Haechan—the way he sometimes stared at your lips for a millisecond while you were talking, or hugged you for a few seconds too long before you parted ways—really made you feel special. Made you feel… wanted. And it had been a long time since someone made you feel that way.

So it really didn’t come too much of a surprise that when he dipped his head down to kiss you again, you responded with as much passion as he emitted. You didn’t care that both of you were still standing in the middle of your co-ed dorm’s hallway, though it was empty from how late it was. You had your fingers tangled in his hair as you tiptoed and leaned your entire weight to his body, making him inhale sharply and curl his fingers around the fabric of your dress.

“Again,” he breathed when you pulled away for a split second and immediately brought you back to him again. Haechan had one arm around your waist and another one holding your face, angling your head to the side so he could kiss you deeper.

Haechan was a good kisser—so frighteningly so that it made you feel conscious of how inexperienced you were compared to him. And with the way his hands were moving around your body, you could tell that things were going a bit too fast.

“Haechan—”

The hand that you laid on his chest to give you both some space, was brought over your head as he pressed your body against the door of your room. He kissed you harder, almost knocking your head against the wooden surface, and you could taste the flavor of the lollipop he had on his way back to your dorm. His scent was intoxicating in the best way possible, numbing your mind from thinking how this could probably end up in a bad decision.

“Haechan-ah, wait,” you gasped against his mouth, and when he did, pulling away from you for a few inches to catch his own breath, you noticed that even if you managed to stop him, you probably wouldn’t sound very convincing.

It was really fortunate that although Haechan was a man of passion, he still had the patience to make your consent his priority. “Too fast?” He asked, warm breath fanning against your lips and you really wanted to just close those few inches between you and be smothered with his kisses again.

So you did, and you could feel him smirking into the kiss. The way he slipped his tongue between your mouth made your knees buckle underneath your weight so you clutched onto him as if you were hanging to dear life. Haechan formed this low grunt at the back of his throat that made your skin tingle in delight, knowing that you had that kind of effect on him.

But really, something still didn’t feel right.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, noticing how you fidgeted uncomfortably under his touch. He looked like stopping at this point would be the last thing he wanted to do but he still gave you the space you needed.

You nodded your head slowly at his question. Haechan looked like he had to put his best effort to gain control of his body and move away from you, and you could totally relate at that point, actually. You weren’t really sure why did you even stop him before. It just felt like the right thing to do but at the same time, it was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Haechannie—"

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step away from you and releasing you from his hold. You were surprised by the fact that you almost fell down to the floor when he wasn’t holding you.

“No, don’t be—it was, umm,” You cleared your throat. The collar of your knitted sweater suddenly felt too tight. “It was good.”

“Good?” Haechan asked, smirking as he raised an eyebrow and you thought fuck there’s that look again and you cursed inwardly a few more times for feeling so whipped for his little, seductive eyebrow raise. “I thought that was more than good, Noona.”

“Probably for you,” you wanted to tease but you could hear your voice crack at the end.

“Oh, really?”

And he kissed you again because he never wanted to lose his game. He knew he already had you wrapped under his fingers; he just wanted to make you succumb to him. To have you say how amazing his touches really felt on your skin because he was just that kind of a guy.

And he was winning. Your reaction was exactly the way he wanted you to be, arching your back under his touch, pressing your chest against his, tongue darting out to taste the inside of his mouth better and longer.

“No, wait, timeout.” You pushed him away again and you noticed that his hair was a mess from the work of your fingers and weirdly enough, it only made him ten thousand times hotter.

“Noona, you’re torturing me.” He whined against your shoulder, playfully biting the skin over your clothes. “Do you want me to stop or not?”

Haechan had the habit of whining when things didn’t go his way. It was immature and it would probably look childishly annoying on someone else, but it only made him  that much more adorable. Still annoying most of the time, but always adorable.

“I’m sorry.” You were torn between feeling bad or laughing about it because my God, look at that pout. “Maybe a five-minute break? I could make you some coffee. My roommate is away for the weekend.”

He sighed, the pout on his lips grew even more apparent. “You’re inviting me to your room? At this hour? After this?”

“I’m not going to have sex with you tonight, Lee Donghyuck, just to be clear.”

“Which is the more reason why you shouldn’t be inviting me over then!”

You laughed because his voice was becoming quite high-pitched. “Are you so incapable of using your brain instead of your dick?”

“Noonaaaaa~” He threw his head back in exasperation, which gave you the chance to ogle at the column of his throat. “Seriously, is torturing guys at the end of a date your sick hobby or something?”

“Look, if you stay over, we can still make-out.” You throw a smirk at him, unlocked your door and pushed it wide open. “And I make the most amazing coffee, trust me.”

“Fine,” he exhaled, walking into your room with a suppressed smile on his face. “And I’m only here for coffee, nothing more. Making-out with you is just a bonus.” And you found yourself giggling like a child as he cradled you into his arms and pushed you down to your bed because you both knew, it was the other way around.

***

About a month later, a similar situation happened again and there was no getting out of it.

It started with Haechan coming over to your room on a Sunday afternoon. Your roommate was staying over at her boyfriend’s place again for the weekend, so you had the room to yourself for the entire day. Haechan came unplanned and he’d brought his MacBook with him because, “I know myself well enough that I’d end up playing Overwatch instead of working on my assignment, so could you please be a responsible adult and force me to do my work even if I start crying at your feet?”

Haechan was always the dramatic one in your relationship but you nodded your head and let him in. You brought over some snacks and made him coffee like usual—which he always replied with, “Noona, I don’t want to sound like an ungrateful boyfriend but this coffee tastes like shi—” but was always finished with a pillow smacked to his face, a form of your courtesy.

You were working on your own papers too, sitting on the carpeted floor with your back pressed against the foot of your bed and a MacBook resting on your lap. Your textbooks were sprawled all over the place, and Haechan was lying down on your bed, head falling over the edge. He was looking at his phone, his thumb running up and down the screen.

“Noona?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m bored.”

“Aren’t you supposed to work on your assignment?”

“Finished it already.”

You threw a look over your shoulder, glancing to see him lounging on your bed as if it was his own. Haechan already had his MacBook closed, and was looking at you upside down with a completely bored look on his face. You knew he was smart, but you didn’t know he was that smart when he really put his mind to it.

“Well, that was fast,” you commented.

“No, you’re just doing it painfully slow.”

“Well, sorry for not being as smart as you,” you mumbled, even though you weren’t really annoyed about it. Haechan  huffed and walked closer, sitting closely right behind you, and trapping you between his legs.

“You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met, though,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. “What are you working on exactly?”

“I don’t even know, honestly,” you sighed, leaning against his chest, dropping your head on his shoulder. “You wanna order some take-out?”

“Can I eat you for dinner instead?”

“Was that a sex joke, Lee Donghyuck?”

“Could be, if you’re interested.” You could see him wiggling his eyebrows from his reflection on your standing mirror. Both of you looked adorable, if you could say so yourself, wearing a matching white shirt (though not on purpose) and enjoying each other’s warmth with Haechan’s arms wrapped protectively around your figure. You sighed as you admired the sight of Haechan’s features in the mirror.

“Have I told you how sexy you look with your hair pushed back like this?” You asked, reaching out to touch some of his strands and he followed your gaze, looking at his own reflection in the mirror.

“Huh.” He seemed surprised. “It’s the first time you said that actually. What else do you think is sexy about me?”

“Promise you won’t get cocky about it if I tell you?”

“Can’t. You know how I am.”

You sighed but you succumbed to his wish. He praised you from time to time, it was only fair for you to do the same. “The way you dance.”

“You saw me dance?”

“Hm-hmm.”

“When?”

“That time when we went to Jaemin’s party. You were dancing to Billy Jean.”

“You saw that?!” He was flustered, scarlet painting his cheeks and ears. “That was—I thought you were in the bathroom!”

“Well, I was going to but then I saw you and kinda had to stop and stare for a little. You dance more with your hips than with your hands, do you know that? It was kinda hot.”

And just like that, the flabbergasted look on his face was immediately replaced with that Godforsaken cocky smirk again. “Were you turned on back then because of me?”

“A little. Or maybe I just really had to pee.”

“You should’ve said something, you know.”

“And then what? Have sex with you in Jaemin’s room? No freaking way.”

“We could’ve used my car. My hips could do so much more than just dancing, you know.”

“You’re disgusting.” You elbowed him slightly on the stomach to stop him from giggling, before you focused back on your MacBook. “Now, shoo, my boy. Mommy’s gotta work.”

Haechan had his chin on one of your shoulders. “But Noona~”

“I’m studying.”

“I’m bored~” He whined like the baby that he was, nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck and you flinched slightly when his breath tickled your skin. “Can we make-out? Please pretty pleaseeeee~”

“Give me half an hour to finish this real quick—”

“Noonaaaaaaa~”

“What?” You were trapped between laughing and acting annoyed about it. “I seriously need to study. Didn’t you tell me to be a responsible adult for today?”

“You could also be a responsible adult by making-out with me though.” He chuckled to himself. “We could do adult things if you—”

“No,” you firmly stated though your smile kept on appearing on your face. You pushed a palm against his cheek, playfully shoving him away. “Now, go away, Dongsookie, I really have to study.”

“Fine,” he exhaled loudly against your shoulder and you could practically feel his pout growing on his face. He didn’t let you go, though. He kind of just sat there behind you, still circling his arms around your waist as he lazily stared at the words you were typing on the keyboard. You had trouble concentrating with the way you could feel every time he took in a breath from how close his chest was pressed against your spine but eventually you got the hang of it.

You were already working on your third page when Haechan suddenly had his lips on the side of your neck, lazily suckling on the skin until you could no longer ignore him.

“Haechannie.”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m playing a game,” he murmured against your skin, licking at the soft skin before he nibbled at it with his teeth. “It’s called how fast can I distract my girlfriend from working over a stupid assignment instead of spending time with me.”

“But I am spending time with you, though.”

“You know what I mean.”

And you had to bite your lip because he had a certain kind of pressure on his words that made your skin tingle in anticipation. His lips were soft but scorching hot as he drew bruises on your skin and it felt so good and dangerous at the same time. It was like standing on a bridge made of glass, both exciting and terrifying.

“You know what I think is sexy about you?” He quietly asked, one hand running down your body, slipping under your shirt and hovering dangerously close to your bra. “The way you say my name when we kiss,” he continued, adding a soft moan when he latched his lips around your earlobe.

You shivered, feeling heat growing on your cheeks. “Haechannie—”

“Yes, like that,” he chuckled, his voice suddenly became deeper. “You’re so sexy, you’re driving me insane.”

You tried your best to ignore him, you really did. But the second he had his warm mouth against your lips, his fingers grabbing your face almost forcefully to turn towards him, you just lost it and you found yourself crawling into his lap, tangling your legs around his waist and moaning against his mouth as he was against yours.

“Noona,” he sighed when you kissed down his neck, as if your every touch was a gift that he craved more and more. He shuddered slightly when you had your hand under his shirt and as if you just pushed the wrong button, he suddenly picked you up by the waist, shoved your textbooks away with one swipe of the back of his hand, and laid you down on the carpeted floor in one swift motion.

“If you keep doing that,” he breathed out heavily, eyes glazed as he stared at your kiss swollen lips. “I won’t be able to stop, even if you beg me to.”

You weren’t sure what came over you but you found yourself hooking your fingers around his necklace and brought his face down, whispering, “Then don’t stop,” directly against his lips.

It was all rush and passion and Haechan was not wasting even a second away before he began to undress you, removing each clothing very easily and you secretly wondered just how many times had he done this before from how smooth he unclasped your bra with one flick of his finger.

He pulled his shirt over his head, his silver necklace hanging loosely around his neck. “Tell me if I’m being too fast,” he said, before he climbed on top of you, throwing the piece of clothing away without a care. Your heart jumped at the sight of him, knowing how this could lead to something more but couldn’t really stop him. Not with the way he had his hands reaching down from the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach, his fingers brushing above the hem of your jeans.

His kiss was always breathtaking, to say the least, but it was a bit different this time because it felt like he was losing control of himself. His kiss was almost forceful, his teeth roughly nibbling at your lower lip before he moved down your chin and found his place in the crook of your neck again. His hand was on your chest, cupping you fully with his palm and let out this sexy groan when he felt you gasping his name against his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re just doing that on purpose now, aren’t you?” He hissed, eyes clouded with lust. He peppered kisses down your chest, lips hovering above your nipple when he said, “You’re being cruel, Noona.” You were tugging at his dark locks when he placed it between his lips, sucking at the sensitive spot, and you tried to hold back your moan but failing every time.

Haechan was giggling to himself, his tongue flicking around the bud. “The way you’re reacting to me is so cute. I didn’t know you were this sensitive.” He ran his tongue across his lower lip, staring at you like he wanted to ravish every part of you, which he probably did. “You’re so goddamn cute.”

“Haechannie.”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t be needing that kind of commentary ever again in the future, thanks,” you uttered, trying your best to focus on his touch and not his words because Haechan could be annoyingly talkative sometimes.

He chuckled again, moving along to land a few kisses on your stomach. “If you’re that sensitive here, how sensitive will you be if I touch you right over…” He trailed a finger down from your belly button to the edge of your underwear. His eyes twinkled gleefully before he rubbed your clit over your underwear. “…here?”

You gave your best strength to stay sane but Haechan’s giggle over your reaction only tortured you even further. “Stop playing around,” you hissed under your breath, pretty sure that you were blushing from ear to ear.

“Playing?” Haechan grinned tauntingly, “I’m being pretty serious, though.” He spread your legs, kissing the inner part of your trembling thigh before he hovered dangerously close to the point you could feel his breath down there. You couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation and Haechan knew that. He knew how much you wanted him to take off your underwear and eat you out like it’s his last meal.

But of course, being the little fucking devil that he was, Haechan only threw you his usual smirk and said, “You know I’d do anything for you, right, Noona? You just gotta beg for it.”

“No way.”

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t know.” He faked a pout. “I’m younger than you, you know. I need you to teach me these things.”

You reciprocated by kicking him right on his abs because as desperate as you were, there was no way in hell you were going to grovel at his feet, begging for him to please you. “All right, all right, I’m sorry, geez!” Haechan said, laughing as he successfully dodged two of your first kicks. Soon after, he grabbed your moving legs, carefully placed them on his sides and ran his hands slowly from your legs to your thighs. He took a long glance at your body, sighing like it was some kind of beautiful torture for him to take. “You don’t even realize how hot you are, do you?” He leaned closer and grabbed you by your chin, locking both of your gazes together. “Do you even know how hard I am right now because of you?”

It was a rhetorical question, clearly, because you could definitely tell how hard and hot he was pressing against you, even if his jeans and your underwear were still on the way.

“God, just—” you gasped when he slipped a knee between your legs, pressing it against your core. “Just stop being a fucking tease and fuck me already, Donghyuck.”

And he grinned against your skin. “Fucking finally.” You heard him say under his breath, before he carried you in his arms and moved you to the bed. It felt somewhat scary, how fast he was being, because you had only experienced sex once and it was the painfully awkward kind of sex with your high school boyfriend and you didn’t really have the chance to practice it with anyone else while it seemed to you, at this point, was clearly not the case for him.

Haechan had his eyes on you, all half-lidded with lust and passion, as he unbuckled the belt of his jeans and you had to gulp at the sight. He didn’t really have six-pack abs like Jaehyun—considering your boyfriend was quite an athlete during his senior days—but his shoulders were broad, his chest was toned, his stomach was lean and his skin, as it glistened slightly with sweat, was just absolutely breathtaking.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked, and you knew how he’d always been cocky in his entire life, but he’d never been this cocky. “You’re practically drooling.”

“I am not,” you retorted but you lacked confidence. Haechan grabbed a condom from the pocket of his jeans before he climbed back into the bed with his jeans unbuttoned.

“Why do you already have a condom with you?”

“Because I came prepared.”

“I thought you said you wanted to study.”

“Among other things,” he grinned against your lips and shushed down your next protest. “I will be studying your body, if you give me the chance.”

“That was so lame.” But even your insult couldn’t mask how nervous you sounded, especially when Haechan was settling himself between your legs again, fingers hooking around your underwear.

“Final chance if you want me to stop, Noona,” he said though it felt like it was almost impossible for him to stop. “I’m serious. After this, I won’t stop even if you cry.”

You swallowed your breath, heart thrumming loud against your chest. “Just do whatever you want,” you answered, almost too quiet for even your ears to hear but Haechan’s eyes gleamed in anticipation.

“That’s my girl,” he said, grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs apart before he leaned in to taste your mouth again. “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”

You realized you were holding your breath when Haechan wrapped the condom around his length and he had his eyes on you before he pushed in, asking with an unexpected low voice of his, “Ready?”

But he did not wait for an answer and you found yourself hissing when he pushed in, slowly at first and suddenly all at once. You twisted your fingers against the bed sheet, biting your lower lip because it hurt trying to adjust to his size and Haechan was a little bit lost in his own thoughts, muttering, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” under his breath, slightly throwing his head back out of pleasure. “Noona, you’re so fucking tight. Do you know that?”

He leaned closer to you, chest pressing against your breasts as he mouthed against the skin of your shoulder and slowly began to move his hips. “You all right?” He asked, making eye contact after a while and you shakily nodded your head, though the pain was still there. “Then I’ll move faster.”

You almost hit your head against your headboard when he suddenly picked up the pace, thrusting into you hard and deep; it knocked the breath out of your lungs. “Haecha—” you could barely speak at that point, arms clutching tight to his back, nails raking against his spine.

“Fuck,” he uttered between heavy breaths as he sat on his knees, holding both of your legs in the air, almost splitting your body in half and pushed deeper. “How the fuck do you feel this good, I—” he ended his sentence short, kissing your ankle instead, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wanna keep you—you’re so pretty like this, Noona—so fucking pretty—”

Haechan was always good with his words but at that time, he was making incoherent noises at the back of his throat, jumping from one sentence to another as if he was thinking about several things at once and he was running out of time.

“Haechan, wait—s-slow down—” You placed a hand on his shoulder, tears forming in your eyes. “You’re moving too fast—It hurts—”

Haechan was unfocused, but the last two words that slipped from your mouth brought him back to reality. He stopped almost immediately, looking at you with eyes searching your face. “Does it hurt?” He asked and you nodded, your body shaking a little bit. His gaze softened, cupping your cheek in his hand before he slowly pulled out of you. “I’m sorry, come here.” He cradled you into his arms, sitting down on the bed and helped you climb into his lap. “Maybe if we do it this way,” he said, wiping a tear from your eye with his thumb, “You’ll feel better?”

You could feel him twitching below you, the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. Haechan stayed true to his promise, he wasn’t going to stop even if you cried and that’s fine because you didn’t want him to.

“Take your time,” Haechan said, smiling gently in a way that was so not him that it made you feel weird. You could tell that he was trying to keep himself calm and composed even when all he wanted to do was to fuck you senselessly.

He pushed inside again, but let you take control of the pace this time. You slid down slowly, wincing slightly at the friction but it no longer hurt as much. Haechan was staring at you the entire time, unconsciously licking his lower lip when you slowly began to bounce on his lap.

“Kiss me,” he demanded and you did, sharing his breath and his moans, and tangling your hands in his hair. When he felt your body relaxing against him, he grabbed you by the waist and suddenly thrust forward, making you gasp and clenched your legs together.

“Fuck,” he moaned under his breath, hissing at how perfect you felt around him. “Noona, you can be mad at me as much as you want after this but for now let me just—” he groaned, furrowing his eyebrows at the feeling of him sliding in and out of you. “Just let me fuck you the way I want.”

And you found yourself thrown back to the bed with him thrusting into you deep and raw, faster and much more forceful than before. His nails were sinking into your skin from how hard he was holding you by your hips, keeping you still as he rocked his hips forward as hard and as fast as he liked. Expletives were falling from his lips between his low grunts and breathy moans and you couldn’t help but sob a little at how strong he was going. It felt painfully amazing, and you knew your body wasn’t making any sense, and it surprised you when your orgasm hit you like a wave, just a few seconds before he reached his. You honestly never thought that something so painful could also bring this much pleasure and you wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t even find the energy to keep yourself up.

You fell down to the bed with Haechan toppling on top of you almost immediately, chest heaving fast as he tried to bring back some air into his lungs.

“Holy fucking hell,” he said, breathing heavily at the juncture of your neck. “That was so good. This is probably the first time I—”

“Haechannie.”

“Oh right, shit!” He immediately jumped away, giving you some space and gently placed his palm on the side of your face, checking your condition. “Are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere? Noona, I’m so sor—Yah!“

You pinched him by the nose, glowering at him with the little strength you have left and you didn’t let go even if he was tapping frantically against the back of your hand, asking for time-outs before you broke his bones.

Well, he said you could be mad at him all you want. It was time for him to face your wrath and it was not going to be pretty.

***

It wasn’t long until your name became a famous topic to discuss around the hallway too and it felt weird yet exciting at the same time, because it was true. You were dating Lee Haechan. And no matter how many times you had to convince yourself that it wasn’t solely your imagination, it still felt unreal.

Because Haechan was shining like the sun, and you couldn’t really shine as bright.

It suddenly felt like high school all over again when you’d once dated the Prom King, Jung Jaehyun, where people always talked behind your back, making comments about your face, or your body, or your attitude and how every aspect of your life did not fit the legendary high school prince that was Jung Jaehyun. It had gotten so much into your head that you had to break up with him, and hating yourself for over a year on how weak you’d become.

Dating Haechan was similar but different in the way he treated you. Jaehyun was too kind, not really saying anything back to anyone who said awful things about you and instead, just told you to not pay any mind about it. Haechan was much braver in saying the things that came to mind, so whenever he heard people talking trash about you, he would come up to them with words laced with venom. It was kind of childish, the way he got worked up rather easily, and even more childish when he continued to pout and fume about it even after a whole day had passed.

“Seriously, I said I’m fine,” you once said to him, entering his Hyundai after he opened the door for you.

“Well, I’m pissed off,” he said, unconsciously closing the door a bit too hard, making you flinch slightly. He walked to the other side of the car, sinking to his seat behind the wheel and exhaled loudly.

“Haechannie.”

“What?” His tone was still a bit harsh, but you knew he didn’t mean to shout at you.

“Thank you for defending me,” you softly said, reaching out for his hand. “But at this point, you’re gonna be mad with literally everyone and anger does not look pretty on you.”

“But aren’t you pissed, though? They literally have no business whatsoever to—”

“I know.” You squeezed his hand. “Look if it gets worse, we can always plan out something. There’s this perfect swamp I know outside of town.”

And Haechan couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he was right, that swamp thing could really be your thing. “You and your stupid swamp,” he muttered, shaking his head in amusement as he grabbed your face for a kiss. “Can we have sex at your place today?”

You sighed. It was always like this when it came to him.  “Sure, why not.”

Because certainly, you weren’t complaining.

***

#lee donghyuck #lee haechan #haechan #nct haechan #nct 127 #nct u #nct dream #mark lee #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #nct fanfic #haechan imagines #nct imagines #nct scenarios #mark lee smut #haechan x reader #donghyuck x you #nct dream haechan #haechan x you #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #haechan scenarios #nct #mine #sundaysundaes

[shhhlikeme]

👀 could I request a steamy makeout sesh with aomine pls!!

Steamy Makeout Session with Aomine Daiki 💦🔝

(mature themes)

A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED KNB AND I AM OFFICIALLY OUT HEREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE boi. I have been itching to get to these requests out and the time has finally come! Le First of many 🤍 🏀 I will update my rules now that I’m back. But basically I hope the small fan base comes back to lifeeee

Aomine Daiki knows he is probably the best kisser to ever live…… fuck

Momoi once made him join the Kissing Booth at the school carnival because she knew how much money she would raise and he literally made 2 girls faint….deadass

His kisses are exactly how we all imagine he does…..maybe a little better smh

It kind of annoys you actually

Because he will kiss you at the most strategic of times (for him) so to exercise his soft control but also to have you yearning for him all day until y’all get in your shared bed

For example, at all of his NBA games, Daiki reserves seats for you and whoever you’d like too bring in the same area every time: right by the tunnel so that he can kiss you before and after he plays

Usually its just a simple quick peck on the lips…

But today after his team surprisingly lost against the Browns, and in the midst of the post-NBA game chaos, Aomine leaned up to kiss you up where you were seated, as per usual

You leaned down to meet him halfway, pressing your lips on his then pulling away from the peck you were used to at games. However, Daiki just urgently cups your face in his giant hands and kisses you with astonishing passion, stealing your breath, and moving his soft lips across yours in the heady way that turns you into goo the way only Aomine knows how

His Big dick energy is on 100

and just when you forget where you even are and try to deepen the kiss, your boyfriend pulls away briskly and walks to the changeroom without so much as a goodbye

You knew that that kiss meant that you better prepare yourself NOW for the hotel room tonight because he is pissed about losing that game and he will take out his aggression on his beautiful girlfriend

You are left flustered and impossibly horny after that kiss, you have to embarrassingly smile at your girlfriends who are just as confused with Aomine’s PDA

That night, Aomine is completely silent when the driver brings you two back to the hotel, and he is silent when you two step into the luxurious elevator, too. You’re used to it from dating an athlete, but you also know that the more silent your man is, the angrier he is about losing, meaning the better he will rail once you two get upstairs

You look up at him, staring only at his soft lips and tanned skin as you two step in the elevator and press floor 26. Another group of people are walking toward your elevator when Aomine growls lowly, so low that only you can hear it. He steps forward and puts his hand out as to say “stop” and the group halts in their place. Aomine nods at them once.

“Occupied.”

he states: his tone allowing absolutely zero room for debate. Aone stares down the surprised group as the doors shut.

When they do close, your NBA player immediately whips around and lunges for you—or should I say your lips—crashing his soft ones on yours and making an entrance into your mouth, never having to beg for one. Begging is your job, when he’s edging you.

You give in and open your mouth, inhaling the scent of your boyfriend’s manly cologne and moaning into the kiss.

Aomine’s large tongue dominates yours into submission, roaming everywhere he’d like to, which also happens to be everywhere you’d like him to, also. He then sucks on your tongue with fervour at the same time that he takes both your breasts in his hands, massaging them gently.

While he is kissing you oh-so-harshly but amazingly, his hand’s ministrations are the quite the contrary— as delicate as a flower, using them to lift the bottom of your breasts slightly as if he’s weighing them, humming because he loves our chest, then using his thumbs to encircle your nipples

Aomine lets out an appreciative sigh into your mouth as your nipples harden underneath his soft touch

You can’t handle this, so you’re arching into his touch, silently begging him to be just as rough with his caresses as he is with his kisses.

He knows the contrast of his no-mercy kiss and barely there tit massage is driving you crazy

He knows.

So you tap him twice on the side of his arm: your safe signal that means you need a second, this time it’s so that you can check why this elevator is the slowest one in the fucking world mate, and when Aomine feels your tap he instantly releases you from the kiss

You immediately regretted your decision.

“No, I untap, still kiss me,” You whispered, breathless and shaken by how much you felt lost when his lips weren’t on yours.

Aomine stared into your eyes with his fiery dark blue ones, searching them to make sure you are good. When his search is merely met with the dark sultry expression in your eyes pleading at him to continue, he then just smirks but switches: now landing soft sweet kisses on your cheeks, forehead…. and then your lips but—

Since this is a switch, now that means Aomine’s gentle caresses from before now become much more relentless, taking your tits in handfuls, pushing them together and tweaking your nipples at the same time

You groan out of pleasure and Daiki does too, you not even realizing that you ultimately forgot to even check what floor y’all were passing. You just wanted him to be between your legs already

Aomine realized that his best game loss cure is making you orgasm, so you knew you anticipated the long night ahead of you

The elevator dings, announcing your arrival on the top floor finally, and Aomine lifts you up with one arm, his left forearm just under your ass, your racing heart pressed to his ear. If you lifted your hand you could easily touch the ceiling lights.

While you mentally thought about what article of clothing you were going to tear off your man first, Aomine lazily searched for the room key.

“God, hurry up,” You snap breathlessly, impatiently wanting his lips on yours again.

Your boyfriend just chuckles heartily before admitting that he forgot the key pass in the car.

You kinda want to rip his head off but you hold back because if you do that then who will kiss you madly and ruin you in the best way other than the love of your life, tonight?

Aomine just nonchalantly trotted back to the elevator and pressed the button again so the doors opened. He steps inside and immediately dropped you down a few inches (still holding you), leaning in to make out with you silly once more. You are in heaven 😩

On the way down, when the elevator annoyingly stopped on a random floor—breaking your kiss to accommodate others........ you ultimately made Aomine fall in love with you even more because you surprised him—beating him to the punch by putting a hand out to the hotel guests and stating,

“Occupied.”

Before the doors shut.

Back to my 2020 KNB Masterlist!

#kuroko no basuke #kuroko no basket #knb #kurobas kurobasque #kurokos basketball #kuroko no basket stories #kuroko no basuke scenarios #kuroko no basket scenarios #kuroko no basket imagines #kuroko's basketball #aomine daiki #aomine x reader #aomine x y/n #aomine x you #aomine smut #aomine fluff #knb requests #knb scenarios #knb imagines #knb stories

[gotnofucks]

To Sin in Love

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader x Sam Wilson

Summary: You’re forced to choose between the man who owns your heart and the one who owns your soul.

Words: 3.5k

Warning: Smut, language, mentions of hell and demons, 18+ ONLY

A/N: You can imagine Lucifer to look like however you please. I have no specific one in mind.  Special shoutout to my babe @donutloverxo​ for beta reading this hot mess and just being my rock.

Hell seemed to breath fresher when his face appeared before you. Swimming in the dark surface of the water from where you spied on him, a smile tugged at your lips. He was exiting the gym, t-shirt damp with sweat and you wished you could smell his musk. The way he walked with purpose towards his destination had you imagining how he’d walked towards you with a predatory look in his eyes.

For months you’d spied on this gorgeous man from miles under the surface and yet feeling so close to him. His grief had called out to you, drawn you into his aura of pain and regret. As a demon, you didn’t feel pity, but Sam Wilson had you feeling more than that. He had you falling in love.

So engrossed were you in looking at him, you didn’t notice your master enter until his warmth met your back. A large scaly hand came around you, holding you close. You leaned back into him, resting your head on his massive chest. Those who said the Devil didn’t have a heart lied, you could hear it beating under your ear, strong and assuring.

“I’ve seen you torture sinners without a frown, and yet here you’re melting for a mere mortal. I taught you better than that my sweet.” Lucifer whispered in your ear, pressing soft kisses along your neck. You moaned, titling your head to give him better access.

“Master” You breathily whispered, “you aren’t being fair.”

Lucifer chuckled, his hands wandering until they cupped your tits and squeezed, the very best of sin from the lord of sinners. You turned your face to look at him, admiring the beauty that had once been in heaven. Hell was worth every bit of pain if you only got to see him this close and feel his hands over your body.

“I am not being fair? I find you lusting after this mortal man while you very well know you belong to me. Why must you hurt me so, my sweet?”

Raising a hand to his face, you caressed it, savoring the tickle of his stubble against your palm. Your Lord was the most gorgeous being you’d ever seen, and yet your immortal heart cried out for Sam Wilson.

“Have you ever wanted to repent Master?” You asked softly, leaning in to kiss his lips. Lucifer groaned in your mouth, turning you around so you straddled him, his arms around you.

“I am the Devil, my sweet, Hell is my repentance. I watered the ground of my kingdom from the blood that seeped from my torn wings. Ascending to Heaven is no more my fantasy, especially not with you in my arms.”

Tears glittered in your eyes, a heat burning in your core that rivaled the very inferno you were born in. Pulling your master close, you kissed his eyes in reverence before whispering against his lips. “He makes me want to repent My Lord. I look at him and I taste absolution.”

Lucifer kissed you, his tongue slithering in your mouth and tangling with yours in a dance as ancient as him. His hands found your ass, squeezing you closer and grinding against the soft mound that lay between your legs.

“And what about me, my sweet? What do you want to do when you look at me?” He asked, his sharp fangs biting into your lips until you bled in his mouth. You shared the taste of your blood with him, finding peace in this place of sorrows where he ruled with a cruel smirk. Why would someone prefer Heaven over the freedom that Hell offered? Would anyone want to be high above if they knew how beautiful your master was, carrying a piece of that heaven into Hell itself with his presence?

“You make me want to kneel Master. I look at you and I want to worship you.” You said, love for him evident in your eyes. “You own my devotion My Lord, and he owns my heart.”

Fingers that were stained with your blood traced your cheek softly, his deep eyes that had seen eons pass by look at you with adoration. You were your master’s favorite, his most treasured demon. Nobody touched you but him, his possessiveness ripping apart every being that ever laid eyes on you. But he would never hurt Sam, he would never draw the blood of a man who owned so much of you.

“I fear you’ll forget me my sweet. If I let you free to go to him, would you ever come back?” Lucifer asked, holding your gaze steady with his. A tear forged a river down your face, his fingers quickly wiping it away.

“Master, you only need to ask, and I will stay. I was born for you, and if you shall please, I’ll die here at your feet.” You promised him. “But I cannot stop yearning for him. He is mine as I am yours.”

He looked at you for a long time before picking you up with him, carrying you over to your bed that had only ever had him as a companion. Lowering himself over your body, he striped you of your garb, touching your body with almost as much devotion as you did to him. He eased into you, the heat of your union steaming the air that rang with your soft whimpers.

“If he ever hurt you, I’ll torture him myself.” Lucifer vowed, capturing your lips that were stretched into a beaming smile. You allowed yourself to merge into one with your master once more, for you doubted you’d feel him like this again. The world was cruel like that, forcing you to chose between the one who owned your soul and the one who owned your heart.

“You wouldn’t have to master. You trained me well.” You said, arching your back as he hit the special spot inside you. “He will cherish me as you have done, I know it to be true.”

Lucifer nodded, visibly struggling with letting you go. His hips thrust wildly, lips murmuring in an ancient language of how you were his light in darkness before you both shattered together, falling into sinful bliss for the last time together. Covered in his spent and heat, you hid your tears in his neck. Even in hell, love was pure and never a sin.

Sam said that you’d been created specially to lead him into temptation and damn him. You would only smile and kiss him, never telling him how true his words were. Only, he would never be sent to your home. Sam Wilson did not belong in the fiery fires of Hell, no matter how deliciously they had burnt.

“You should be ashamed of yourself Mr. Wilson” You joked, cupping his face and leaning close to steal a kiss. “Leaving your training in the middle to fornicate with your girlfriend. Where is your sense of propriety?”

Sam laughed, pushing you onto your back on the couch, catching your giggles in his eager mouth. “You shouldn’t have sent me those pics darling. You know I am addicted to you.”

Your eyes twinkled in love for him, pulling him over you excitedly. Your relationship with him had been nothing short of a dream, his presence in your life completing you. When Lucifer had let you out on Earth, you’d wondered for one fearful moment if Sam would ever love you like you did to him. But it seemed his ageless soul had searched yours for just as long, for you clicked from the moment you met.

You’d been looking for him, navigating the crowded land of the mortals when Sam literally flew by you. His wings outstretched, Redwing hovering a few above, he chased after a man with vengeance in his eyes. Seeing him like that, you were convinced he had to be some sort of an angel for never had you felt so alive as you did then, breathing the same air as him.

As you saw him disappear, you ran after him, heart beating with excitement at finally meeting the man who’d owned you without even knowing you exist. Turning the corner, you saw him on the ground, grappling with the other man for a small pendrive. You had not planned to step in but seeing your man grunt in pain when he was punched, you launched into the battle with a cry, pouncing on the bastard who dare hurt your love.

“Die you dickface!” You screamed, pulling on his hair and delivering a kick into his side. He cried out, struggling in your hold. His mortal strength was laughably unmatched to yours and with a flick of your fingers, you twisted his wrist until you heard a crack. One conk to the head and he’d be down on his way to Hell where your Master would greet him, knowing how to deal with such asswipes.

“Hey! Hey, come off. I have orders not to kill!” Sam said, and then he touched you. He wrapped a hand around your arm and pulled you away, dragging you into himself and off the target he was chasing. The moment you felt his touch, tingles shot up and down your spine, liquid fire curling in your veins until you burnt only for him. The target lay forgotten on the ground, clutching his broken wrist as you and Sam gazed at each other.

His mouth parted slightly, fingers still digging into your flesh. You could see his eyes widen and then dilate, a similar heat simmering in them. He gulped, reluctantly releasing you from his hold but not moving away, trying not to blink as if afraid you’d disappear the moment he did.

“Have we met before?” He asked softly, tilting his head to the side. The brown in his eyes melted like chocolate, and you wanted to step closer to feel his touch again. You’d never met and yet you seemed to recognize each other. Something older than human memories had etched your face in his heart.

You shook your head, stray hair dancing beside your face as you did so. He blinked, shaking himself from his trance before lowering down to pick up the pendrive and calling in backup to arrest the target. His eyes kept drifting back to yours, confused and curious.

“Who are you?” He asked. You told him your name, shivering when it passed from his lips like a love chant. “You got strength in those arms. CIA?”

His voice was deep, and you wanted to know how it would sound right beside your ear, out of breath.

“I don’t work for the government. They don’t handle power well.” You said. Sam smiled at your words, looking around as three agents approached him, cuffing the target and patting his back.

“My name is Sam Wilson.” He said, offering you a hand that you eagerly shook. “Would you care for a cup of coffee? I may know a team of people who handle power just fine.”

“Hey, where’d you go?” Sam asked, his lips trailing down from your shoulder to your neckline. You come back to the present, catching the back of his neck and allowing him access to your breast, moaning when he sucked them from over your clothes. You’d been brought together by fate, of that you were sure, never parting ways since the day you met.

“Was thinking about you.” You replied, shimming out of your shirt and salivating at his naked torso. He was beautiful, his body glowing in the sunlight that peaked in like a voyeur through the blinds to witness your tryst.

“What about me?” He asked, smoothening his hands over you. Your skin heated under his touch, a desperate craving in your core to be filled by him overpowering your senses. You moaned his name and asked him to take you, quietly sobbing when you felt his tongue against your moist center.

“Sam, please. I feel empty.” You cried, hips raising as a finger eased into your channel and rubbed against your spongy walls. He smirked against you, sucking on your clit and tasting your juices that he said were like his own communion. No wonder he fell for a demon, uttering the filthiest things from those lips that made you quiver.

“Tell me, what were you thinking of.” He prompted, teasing you further. You writhed under him, holding his head with your thighs, and clutching the edge of the couch. He was grinning at your desire, loving as you made a mess for him. You cursed, eyes closing as you gave into his ministrations, coming apart into his mouth and crying out his name.

His slight beard that had taken him months to grow left a delicious burn on your skin, and soon his lips met yours, his breath carrying your scent. You lifted your hips eagerly to his, begging him with your eyes to take you, to own your body and make you his again. Greedily kissing you, he entered you with a practiced thrust, moaning at how snug you were. When Sam fucked you, he lost himself in your body to find his soul.

“Look at me.” You said, forcing his lust blown gaze to yours. He panted hard, grabbing your hips for support as he pushed into you, your bodies merging together like perfect puzzle pieces. You wondered again how this utterly beautiful man could be yours, how a damned soul like yours could belong to one as bright as his.

“What were you thinking of darling?” He asked again, biting your shoulder to leave a mark.

“About how much I love you.” You finally said, surprising him by flipping him over and taking the reins. You rode him out, taking him deeper and deeper until you were sure he was in your womb, feeling right at home. “I have loved you since before we met, believe it or not.”

Sam took your hand that rested on his chest and placed a sweet kiss on it, laying back as you lazily fucked him into a pile of gooey mess.

“I believe you baby” He said, pulling you into a soft kiss. “I feel like I’ve loved you my whole life.”

Tears gathered in your eyes, your hips moving faster as his words registered in your heart. Your love was complete and reciprocated, your life finding its meaning in him. Oh, how you loved him and his gap-toothed smile. His eyes that lit up when you danced together and played pranks on his friends.

“You are my heart Sam Wilson” You whispered in your ancient language, surrendering to him and the pleasure of your body.

Your dream suddenly turned hot, and it was then you realized you were back home. The room you had spent centuries in was still the same, your stuff kept together like a shrine to your memories. You wandered in, touching everything as nostalgia welled in your heart. Reaching your bed, you smoothed out the creases in the velvet sheets, smiling at the smell of your master there.

“Welcome home, my sweet.”

There he was, as regal and beautiful as ever. Looking at him, you knew he was meant to rule hell, for someone like him could never be happy serving at the feet of another.

“Master” You said breathlessly, wanting to crawl on your knees to him. But before you could, he flew to you and took you in his arms, his wings opening wide and curling around your body, enveloping you. A sob lodged in your throat, for you had never thought you’d ever feel him again. You met his eyes that seemed misty like yours and when he kissed your forehead, you let a tear escape.

“Oh, my sweet, how I’ve missed you. Hell seemed to have lost its fire without you. My hearth seems cold in your absence.” Lucifer said, nuzzling his nose in your neck. You held him close, running a hand through his hair that had grown longer.

He pulled away to kiss both your cheeks, his beautiful visage soothing the burn in your heart you didn’t know you have. Fate has been cruel, separating you from one man you love to be with the other. You raised your head up to receive his lips, but that kiss didn’t come.

“No, my sweet,” He sadly said, stroking your face gently, “You and I both you we can never share that intimacy again.”

Your heart broke at the rejection, a frown crumbing your face into one of despair that Lucifer was quick to kiss away.

“Oh no, that is not what I meant.” He assured. “I have loved you since you were born. If I am the soul of Hell, you are its heart. But now your heart belongs to someone else, does it not? Nobody knows better than the Devil that you must not abandon that which you seek. My need for freedom led me here, and you need for love led you to the man who could return it the way you deserve. Do not sully that by presenting yourself to me, not when I would love you just as much without the succor of your body.”

It was then you realized, standing in the palace of the damned with the Devil, that love came in various ways. Here was your master, who loved you deep enough to let you go, defying all nature that had made him a villain. He was greedy and jealous, the sinner whose pride led him to fall. But that fallen angel had raised you here, had loved you as purely as god did to his children. How harshly had the world judged this being, and how strongly have you loved him, that you didn’t want to leave.

“Master” You begged, clutching his collar and holding on tight. “Do not let me go. You still own me, as does he. Can I not belong to the both of you, equally?”

Lucifer smiled, a content look in his gaze. He sat down on the ground, taking you into his lap and rocking you like a babe. “My sweet, you will always belong to me. Love is infinite, and you can divide it between people and yet it wouldn’t lessen. But I summoned you back here to give you a boon, for I see far into your future.”

You stared at him in confusion, hugging him tight. He smelled like the dirt of graveyard after rain, death and rebirth combined into one. He took a section of your hair, running a hand through it until the few strands in there turned gray. Your heart beat faster, a new vulnerability coursing in your blood that had you feeling fear for the first time in your life.

“Master, what have you done?” You asked.

“That man you love lives a limited life my sweet. I promised you to not damn him into this place of tortures, and if I cannot bring him in as a demon, I must make you a mortal like him. Grow old together, find your happiness. When the time shall come for your body to retire, the fates shall merge you as one and see where to deliver you.”

A storm of emotions rushed through your heart, longing and pain and love and sin. You leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth, feeling his presence settle in your bones.

“And you master? Would I ever see you again?” You asked, voice cracking. Lucifer smiled, removing the black ring from his finger and pressing it in your palm. He rested his forehead on yours, lips curved in a small smile.

“I will stay down here and try to repent my sweet, so that one day I may join you too. If there ever was someone who could redeem the Devil, it is you.” He whispered.

You laid in his arms, cocooned in his presence until you woke up in your bed next morning cuddled up to Sam, clutching the ring Lucifer had given you.

Sam had always been pretty, but today he was just beautiful. His eyes sparkled like precious gems, a reassuring metal hand on his shoulder telling him to keep it together. He couldn’t believe it but when he held your hand, it felt real. A black ring sat on his hand, a matching one in yours.

“Could you both wait until the reception is over to eye fuck each other?” Bucky joked, but he kissed your cheek and hugged you, pushing you into your now husband.

“I have waited a lifetime to be his, I guess I will be okay with a few more hours.” You said to Bucky, but your eyes were trained on your man. He was yours, wearing your mark. You both were together in spirit and body, and your love seemed to have tripled in size.

“We have forever to go darling, don’t we?” Sam said, kissing you softly.

You nodded, entwining your hands and running a finger over his ring. You had a forever, and you would wait a forever more for the other part of your soul.

#sam wilson x reader #sam x reader #lucifer x you #lucifer x reader #sam wilsom #lucifer

[jessie-writes-things]

Yet another smut I can't be bothered to edit. 😅 This was meant to be a half an hour thing, 4 hours later and this is what we have.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader Words: 1.4k Genre: SMUT, angst, hurt comfort, friends to lovers Warnings: Sexual content, mentions of cheating, a lot of swearing. Summary: Frankie comforts you.

You were half-asleep on Frankie couch, middle of summer with the balcony doors wide open, the warm breeze soothing the dull thumping behind your eyes.

Your brain won’t slow down.

Going home. Seeing the clothes around the living room. Hearing them in the bedroom.

You should have done something. Should have barged in there and something clever and witty and something to make them realise how much they had messed up.

Fucking dick.

The other cushion dipped. You barely opened your eyes but the small light filtering in stung.

Frankie sat there, legs spread in nothing but his boxers and you screwed your eyes shut again, trying to get the image out of your mind, ‘It’s too warm to sleep.’

‘Mhm.’

It’s quiet, but you can hear his soft breaths, feel him shuffling around on the sofa trying to get comfortable in the claggy heat.

His bare thigh brushes against your calf and the air gets stuck in your lungs, just a small hitch that he shouldn’t have been able to hear.

Everything you should have said floods you like the fucking heavens had just opened and all the angels wanted to drown you.

You’re a piece of shit.

How could you have done this.

Three years. Three fucking years.

With your god damn fucking secretary? You’ve always had a thing for her. Why am I not surprised.

Frankie shifts again, ‘I should go over there and-‘

‘And do what? It’s three in the morning.’

‘I don’t know, punch them.’

‘You wouldn’t punch them. You’re too nice.’

‘I’m sure Benny’s free.’

You snorted, ‘That would be fun to see.’

It’s too quiet. The couch is too soft. The night is too hot.

It’s over.

I never want to see you again, you fucking…

Fucking…

Oh for fuck sake. Nothing?

You piece of shit.

You…

…you.

What the fuck did I ever do to you?

The touch was jarring, jabbing at the part of your thigh where the hem of his shirt laid. It tingled a moment, the feeling of his warm but rough of his finger then hand was too overwhelming that you could barely register what he was saying.

‘What are you thinking?’

‘Nothing.’

You didn’t need to open your eyes to know Frankie was looking at you. But you did anyway and it was one of the worst mistakes you had ever made because when you did, and you saw him watching you with the biggest, heart melting brown eyes you had ever seen, it felt like your entire world was about to crash around you for the second time that night.

‘It’s my fault.’

His hand was still on your knee.

‘What they did isn’t your fault.’

It moved, you weren’t even sure if he was aware if it moved, but it moved, fingers sneaking under the hem and squeezing your thigh.

‘I knew things weren’t good for a while. I could have ended things sooner.’

He must have meant it in a friendly way right? Right? Like a friendly hug or a pat on the back!

‘You can’t think that.’

A very, very friendly hug.

‘I fucked up.’

And you better not fucking fuck up again.

Because he moved again, other hand on your cheek, getting right in your face until all you saw was him.

‘This. Isn’t. Your. Fault.’

He meant it to be reassuring. You were sure of it.

Then why was he looking at your lips? A quick glance that, maybe, he wasn’t even aware of.

You kissed him first. You think. You were sure of it.

Jesus Christ, it doesn’t matter.

Frankie was a better kisser than you were expecting. Not that you were expecting anything. Not at all. Totally hadn’t dreamt about it before. He was the right amount of soft and hard, fast and slow, and when he scooted closer, fitting himself between your legs with a small rumble of approval in his chest, he felt perfect.

You’ve really fucked yourself big time.

You locked him in, legs wrapping around his back, pulling him in closer and he moaned against your mouth. He fucking moaned and it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

One of you pulled away, both gasping for breath and there wasn’t nearly enough room between the two of you to even think.

His breath smells like coffee.

Nice to know.

‘We don’t have to-‘

‘I want to. Do you?’

‘Yes.’ He was still trying to breathe in a somewhat normal manner, his hot mouth so, so close to your neck it was painful as his hands slipping higher under the shirt until they were resting on your hips, ‘Fuck yes.’

‘We should move. To your bed, or something,’ it was exceedingly hard to speak when he was kissing your neck, somehow knowing all the soft spots to make you weak. ‘Your back.’

He did not give two shits about his back, licking his way to your pulse point before nipping at it and you nearly screamed his name like bloody murder, your body reacting without command as you arched into his touch.

It wasn’t long until your shirt hit the floor, quickly followed by Frankie undressing and you definitely found far too much enjoyment in watching him as he so.

God, make it more obvious why don’t you.

‘I’ve been thinking about this,’ he touched your stomach, then lower, and lower until he met your heat, smiling at your small whimper for him, ‘for so long.’

You wanted him close again, missing his body as a chill washed over you, amplified by your burning skin.

But all you could do was watch, his gaze paralysing, watching for your reaction as he teased your clit with his tongue.

Frankie was way too powerful for his own good. He was a wizard, he must be because everything about the way his mouth worked against you was magic.

He had you screaming his name so fucking fast that you were surprised you even remembered it, clawing at his shoulders while wave after wave of utter bliss washed over you.

How the fuck did he do that so quick?

And why the fuck have I waited this long?

Frankie wore the biggest shit-eating grin as he wiggled his way back up to you, stopping along the way to kiss your thighs and your hips and your stomach and your breasts.

His nose brushed your cheek when he kissed and nipped at your jaw, ‘You doing okay?’

‘Mhm.’ You felt heavy, the kind like you could fall asleep at any moment, ‘That was nice.’

‘Good to know.’

And suddenly you were awake again, watching curiously as Frankie reached over off the couch.

‘Do I wanna know why you keep condoms in your coffee table?’

‘Pope-‘

‘-Okay, nope. We’re not talking about them while naked.’

He huffed a laugh and you dragged his lips back to yours before he said another word.

Not that there was much to say after that.

Not that you could think of anything to say because as Frankie slipped into you, you lost all comprehension of what the world was like before. He fit so effortlessly in you with just enough stretch to anchor you back to earth.

And he fucked you, so fucking good into that couch that you were surprised nothing broke. The springs creaked with each snap of his hips and he started out slow, whispering all the things he knew you wanted to hear, but at some point it all got too much, his body moving against yours like no one else’s ever had.

His name choked you as it fell from your lips. It only spurred him on further, knuckles turning white from the force at which he was holding the arm of the couch, fingers digging into the softness of your hip as your bodies moved in time until you were both unravelling for each other.

Mother fucker has ruined sex.

How the hell is anyone meant to beat that?

It was a while before either of you moved, and even when you did it wasn’t far as Frankie hugged you tight against his chest, shielding you from the warm summers breeze that threatened your body.

You snuggled further into him, counting each beat of his heart until you had the rhythm memorised.

Please don’t let me go.

‘I owe you a blowjob after that.’

The beat broke when he laughed softly, ‘They really didn’t deserve you.’

Maybe not.

But there’s no way in hell I deserve anyone half as close to you.

#frankie morales #frankie morales angst #frankie morals smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #lexi writes #april writes #may writes

[mrs-hollandstan]

hello! could you do an angsty fic based on the song yes to heaven by lana del rey where reader is pining after peter but he just doesn’t realize please?

This is actually really cute and I kinda dreaded writing it at first haha

If you dance, I'll dance

Peter was your best friend. Since kindergarten. You were there always, and you, like Ned (and now MJ) knew his deepest secret. And even though he knew you like the back of his hand, he didn't know your deepest secret. 

Tonight was Prom. The biggest night of your life, or what was supposed to be and maybe it would be, but you knew that you hadn't been asked to Prom by anyone which meant going "alone" even though you had a group of friends you'd be with, but you knew that he had asked her and that was somehow worse than not having a date yourself. 

You'd watched him go for Liz, and you supported him, and you were glad when she went away. You thought he'd remain your little, single, best friend, but then his attraction shifted to MJ and it was like a punch through your heart. You had been heart-eyes for him for so long and he never noticed and you knew that even if he did, it would never come to fruition because he was your best friend. You were his and that was a big no no. You could dream though right. 

And if you don't, I'll dance anyway

You had a beautiful dress and pretty heels and your hair and makeup were done to the best of your cousin's ability. You knew that you weren't ugly (you weren't the prettiest in school but who wants that, they're bitches anyways) and you knew that at least a few pairs of eyes would be on you. Even if those weren't Peter's, it'd be okay. You could fill that void with… Flash Thompson or something. 

You found the group near the back, Peter and MJ facing each other as they danced together, but not touching, and Ned makes a noise, drawing your eyes to him. Betty leans against him, 

"Wow Y/N, you look…"

"Killer." Betty finishes for him, admiring you just as much as her on-again, off-again boyfriend had. Damn, everyone really had someone huh?

"Oh yeah, you look nice Y/N." Peter speaks up in that overly innocent voice of his, eyes never leaving your face before he diverts his attention back to MJ who doesn't even give you a glance. When had he ever not called you by a nickname? Was that something he started doing when she showed up, calling you by your formal first name? 

Give peace a chance

You fall into the routine. Distracting yourself with the less obsessed with each other couples and the singles in your group, dancing and mingling, sipping punch and snacking on crackers and chips and dip. It was nice. For once you didn't feel like you had to distract yourself from them. It was natural. Grooving along as a few slow songs replace the upbeat ones you were grooving to and joining the loners on the benches brought back that overwhelming dull feeling you had whenever you watched Peter with his girlfriend. The way he swayed, arms wrapped around her waist, forehead pressed to hers. What it's like to be Ned and Betty, unphased by the fact that your best friend is so helplessly in love with someone else while all you can do is suffer in silence being in love with them. You swallow back the tears and the lump in your throat at the thought of Peter marrying her, having kids with her, and you being alone forever. You have to look away. Downing a few more glasses of punch, Betty and Ned strike up a conversation, letting you forget about the searing jealousy within you. And it's back to the dancing soon enough. 

Peter and MJ are comfortable enough that her back presses to his chest and he wraps his arms around her and they sway, singing together. Her smile is bright and so is his and it kills you. 

Let the fear you have fall away

She turns to him, a faint squeak sounding along the polished floor since she's worn tennis shoes and his smile widens when she says something to him. 

You've been in love with Peter since Kindergarten, you're pretty sure. He's always been adorable and of course you've always tried to chalk it down to him just being like a brother to you, but it's so much more. You've never realized how much you really do love him. He's been by your side, he's helped you through personal and work related issues, he's confided in you when it came down to Spider-Man and the emotional toll it was taking on him. He leaned on you and you let him, and you held back the tears until he couldn't hurt you or comfort you. He was oblivious and you seemed fine with it but if he knew, you knew he'd hate himself and he'd beg for your forgiveness, but he surely would never make you what she is to him. Their relationship is too powerful and he doesn't like you like that. It would never happen. Maybe it's because he's never had to save you. You've never put yourself in harm's way. 

I've got my eye on you

As you watch, with his strong arms wrapped around her, he leans in the same way she does and they kiss, so softly you can practically see how in love they are. You've never seen them kiss and you could really have gone without it. 

You glance away but the heartbreak is already setting in. Your breaths are short, chest tight, eyes stinging as you fight the tears. 

What hurts the most is that you'll never be her for him. He has someone he loves while you obsess over him. You have no one now, and he has everything he's ever wanted. Sure, you're happy for him, but it still kills you. 

Turning, Betty reaches out to hold your wrist, eyebrows knitting together at the look on your face, 

"Hey, what's the matter?" You shake your head,

"N-nothing. I need… I need fresh air." 

"I'll go with-"

"No!" The outburst draws all kinds of eyes to you including MJ's and Peter's, his eyebrows knitting together. Betty jumps as if she's been stung and her eyes widen just a little, Peter straightening up as a tear slides down the side of your nose, "I just… I need to be alone." 

I've got my eye on you

You dart away from the group, your heels clicking along the polished wood floor until you're pushing into the halls. The music is muffled behind the closed doors, allowing you to drop down to the floor and sob. The cracking in your chest is so damn painful. It feels like any moment, your heart will disconnect itself and leave your body to avoid the pain. 

The tears splash off the floor and you'd hate to see how your makeup looks but you don't think you're going back in there. You can't will yourself to convince people you're fine. Especially not your group of friends. As you're picking yourself up from the floor, the doors behind you burst open and Peter emerges, reaching out for your arm. He doesn't realize it when you pull it out of his reach, 

"What happened? Are you hurt?" You shake your head, brushing your tears from under your eyes, 

"I'm fine." 

"You don't really expect me to believe that do you? You're crying at prom, in the middle of the hallway." He states like its the most obvious thing. You swallow, 

"I just need air." 

"Okay… I'll go with you." 

"No, I need to be alone." 

"I've known you my whole life and I know you hate being alone." If he thinks he knows you so well, why doesn't he realize he's the one causing you so much pain? 

"There's a lot I don't like Peter." 

"What do you mean? Y/N, what's going on with you?" He asks. 

Say yes to heaven

Turning to him, you stare into those cool brown eyes, eyes that have always calmed you and you can't help it. Your lip quivers, 

"You don't always have to understand what's going on with Peter. I can handle myself." 

"You know I believe you, but you don't have to hide it. You can tell me anything. I'm your best friend and I would kill for you." If only that were true. I mean… you'd never wish death on her but… it'd be easier. It'd lessen your panic. You shake your head, 

"It's fine Peter. Just… go back inside." You turn to start away from him but he has so much that tells him your every move. Not only, as a normal human, can he read you like an open book, but with this new superhuman power thing, he senses when something is wrong. His face shows it, 

"I'm not leaving you. Especially with all that… suicide, drunk driving crazy crap going on that surrounds prom. You're storming out of there for no reason, crying and I… you shouldn't be alone." 

"Peter-" 

"No, talk to me! I'm your best friend and I am not going to let you die and have to tell your parents, your family, our friends that I didn't do anything to protect you." He yells. He really thinks this is a call for help, and it is, but not that way. You scoff, wondering how boys are so oblivious, glancing at him as you lean against the handrail behind you.

Say yes to me

"You really wanna know?" You ask him softly. He nods, moving in closer, 

"Of course. I hate seeing you in so much pain." He tells you. Your smile is sinister because he's so damn stupid. Closing your eyes and rubbing a hand across your face, you sigh, 

"I like you." Is all you state at first. He frowns, eyes glancing down at the floor. He's confused because he likes you too but he would never think you like him that way unless it was directly stated, "I've liked you since we were kids. And yeah, I'm so, so, so happy for you for having a girlfriend that loves you and you love her, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt for me. You'll never love me like that and that's fine but… I can't just watch you guys be in love. It fucking kills me." You explain to him. His mouth hangs open in shock and you cross your arms, 

"I can't pretend to be fine around you guys. You and Ned got girlfriends and all and yeah, maybe I could get a boyfriend and it would hurt less but you know I love your personality and I always have and I don't know that anyone will ever come close to that. So now I'm alone and I'm not going to take you from her to pity me so I don't really… have a best friend anymore. If I want to be around you I guess I can just come find you and be a third wheel." You tell him. 

Say yes to heaven

You watch his eyes change. He's panicking a little, 

"Are you saying… you don't wanna be friends anymore?" 

"It's not that we can't, it's that I… I don't know if I have it in me to put up this facade. I'm not telling you to give her up, I'm just saying… I think… now that we're about to split up for college… maybe it's time to start doing it now. I- it hurts too bad and I just… I can't." 

"Y/N, please don't do this. You've been my best friend for decades. Why can't we just… I mean… I can figure out how to split my time between the two of you." 

"No you can't. That's not fair to her and I'm not going to do that to you two. It's just better if I move on. I'll probably go to California for college anyways. It's for the best to separate ourselves now." You conclude. You don't know what will hurt worse, but after a while, you'll hurt less moving on without him. He takes another step forward, 

"Y/N, c'mon, you can't do this." 

"I won't ruin your life and I won't hurt myself because I have a selfish little crush on you I would've never acted on." You tell him. You stand and stare at each other before you stand and brush your tears from beneath your eyes, sighing,

"You're destined for greatness Peter Parker and it would've happened eventually. Now just gives me a reason to start." You tell him, voice shaky. His face softens, 

"I don't wanna lose you." He says, his voice just as shaky. You shrug, crossing your arms and preparing yourself to walk away from your best friend for the last time. You sigh, 

"I'm not going back in there. This is kinda… it. I have to go home."

"At least let me take you." 

Say yes to me

"No! You have a girlfriend in there and I'm not going to let you! Goddammit Peter, I have to get away from you, don't you get that? I can't be what I need to and it hurts too much. Just… fuck off." The look on his face is pure pain. He hates that you're abandoning him. And maybe you should be forced to settle as just his friend, but you can't. You can't sit back and watch them be happy together. The pain is unbearable. They're better off without you and your selfish jealousy. He's better off without you, 

"Y/N, don't do this. You're just as important as MJ, I can't go without talking to you. Please." You hold up a hand as he nears you again. You stare into each other's eyes, tears in both sets. You shake your head, 

"I'll never be more to you than her. Maybe when we were kids but… we're different now." 

"Y/N-" You shake your head again, swallowing the lump. You know he feels the same way you do. The pure dread of giving up your best friend because the love you feel for him is just too strong, "please." He whispers. It breaks your heart further as you meet his eyes again and sniffle, 

"Goodbye Peter." You say. And you turn your back, and walk away from your ex-best friend. And it stings. But hopefully it will keep your heart in your body staying away from him. God you hope so.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader smut #peter parker #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #peter parker blurbs #My writing

[anythingforspence]

the capstone - chapter one

Summary: Reader is a semester away from getting her masters in Psychology and duringher last semester she has to complete her capstone, or passion project if you will. This year, the professors decided that each student will be personally mentored by a psycologyst in distinct fields. When Y/N meets hers, she can’t decide whether she is lucky or if it will be a long 5 months.

Pairing: Female reader x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.8 k

Chapter warning: harsh language, sexy talk, no smut yet

A/N: omg tysm for all of the love on the teaser post. i hope i dont dissapoint.

Although I’m wide awake, I let my alarm clock keep beeping and beeping and beeping as I stare up at the white ceiling of my cheap studio apartment. My neighbor woke me up bright and early this morning by doing what sounded like lugging a dead body throughout his apartment. I lifted my head slightly just to slam it back against my bed, whining about being awake at 5:30 am. I’m probably just nervous. I have to complete this passion project for my psychology class by being mentored by a famous psychologist and write a paper about their career and their wisdom I guess. I have a meeting with my mentor today and I don’t know what to expect. My professor kept the identity of our mentors a secret. For the “excitement” and whatnot.

With a sigh, I swing my legs over the side of my bed and bend over to switch off the alarm. Resting my elbows on my knees, I run my hands down my face, basically prepping myself for the fact that I have to stand up soon. The moment I stand, I stretch all throughout my body, ending with my hands high above my head, stretching into the ceiling. My mouth getting ready to yawn when a bang was heard next door, like a book being chucked against the wall ajoined with my neighbors apartment causing me to yelp. I’m pretty sure I heard a chuckle in response to my scream. I glared at the wall, thinking of all the ways I could storm in there and punch my neighbor. I had two choices. I could storm in there and do all the things I wish I could do, or I could mind my business and get ready for the day.

Rolling my eyes I decided to just get ready. I still wanted payback, however, I blasted Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now by The Smiths as I head into the showe. I grab brown trousers, a white button up, and a sage green set of lace undergarments. Not that anyone would see them, unfortunately there has been a drought of sorts in my pants. I just wear them for the aesthetic. Getting undressed, I put on my favorite playlist with all of the songs that make me feel like I’m the main character in an indie film. I heard a light tapping at my door, like some wanted my attention but at the same time wished I never paid attention to them. I decided to ignore it and step under the stream of water in my shower.

Once I was all finished with my shower, I stepped out into my foggy bathroom. Singing along to Bug Collector by Haley Heynderickx, I start drying off and slip on my outfit for the day. I keep my hair in a towel to help it dry some so I don’t have to use any heat on my hair. For my makeup I decided to go for a red lip, neutral blush, mascara, and brows today. Something simple and professional. I let my hair out of the towel and brush it out, not doing too much to it. Blowing myself a kiss in the mirror, I grab my purse and wrap my student ID around my neck, letting it fall next to the golden flower chained to my neck.When I open the door, I laugh in shock at the note my neighbor left for me.“nice taste in music”

I felt something against my leg and knew exactly who it was. “Hi, Payton,” I sweetly spoke to the Sphynx cat at my feet. I named her Payton even though she’s not technically mine and just wanders through the apartment complex. I bend down to give her scratches at her neck. “How’s my cutie patootie. Did you see the asshole who left this not?” She just tilted her head more into my hand, telling me to keep on scratching. “Guess not.” I stand back up and check the time on my watch, “Shit”. I had five minutes to get there.

-----

A bell rang as I entered the coffee shop I was supposed to meet my mentor at, of course with my favorite mask on. My eyes scan the place a little before I walk up to the counter to order my favorite drink. “Hi can I just get a 16 ounce Earl Grey, please?” The barista said something along the lines of yes of course and how my total was 2.16. “Alrighty, thank you.” It didn’t take too long for it to be done. They weren’t very busy and it’s just a tea bag and hot water.

“Excuse me, are you Y/F/N Y/L/N?” 

Woah. His voice sent a tingle down my spine. Probably just because I haven’t had much human contact or the fact that I haven’t been laid in a while but, my god, what I would give for him to say my name again. But that was nothing compared to what I saw when I turned around. I’m just glad I was wearing a mask so he didn’t the way my lips parted when my eyes met his. He had curly brown hair and he dressed like an old man, doesn’t sound like much but for me, that’s everything. Oh my gosh, and he had nerdy little cute glasses? When I realized I was staring I averted my eyes and started blushing.

“Um, yes, hi, that’s my name. I’m so sorry, but what’s your name?” The tremor in my voice made me want to just drop dead. I’m a woman of science but if the Earth knew how to open up and swallow people, now would be the time to prove it.

“Oh hi. I’m Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m your psychology mentor. Did your professor not tell you?” He seemed so confused, oh my god he’s so cute.

“Oh. Oh my God I’m so sorry! My professor didn’t let us know who was mentoring us, just in case we did prior research or something. I’m sorry. But yes um I’m Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you, sir,” I kept on rambling, looking anywhere but his eyes. Unfortunately, it made me look like I was checking him out. Oh fuck.

Chuckling a bit, he goes, “Oh no your fine. No need to apalogize. It’s a pleasure to meet you miss Y/N.” Not going to lie, the way he said my name sent tingles to my pussy. Oh my god what is wrong with me! I can’t be thinking these things about the person who is going to mentor me! Stop being so horny.

I started to blush and I cleared my throat and gestured towards the window. “Um, should we go sit out there?”

“Oh yes of course. Please after you,” he said, his hand finding the small of my back, hitching my breath and making me nervously mess with the rings on my fingers. We sat at the iron tables outside of the coffee shop, he pulled my chair open for me, finally his hands off of me. I felt like I could breathe again but at the same time I felt sad, empty. He took off his mask to take a sip of what he was drinking and holy shit. He had some scruff and his lips just looked so inviting. I wanted to distract from the silence that was biting at me. “So, uh, what do you do?” My voice trailing off, making everything so much heavier with awkwardness and the sexual tension that was just coming from me.

“What do you mean what do I do?” Fuck. I looked so stupid of course he does something in pschology. That’s the whole reason you’re here.

“W-well, um, like what specific area do you work in?”

“I do criminal profiling with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.” My eyebrows bunch together in confusion. What does that have to do with psychology? Almost as if he’s reading my mind he continues, “We psycho analyze crime scenes, victims, bodies to understand why a criminal would do what they did, which helps us to understand the type of person they are, their background, and it leads us to the criminal, or unsub.”

“Wow that’s actually really cool. But, like, how does that all work?”

“Tell me, Y/N, when was the last time you had sex?” I didn’t say anything. I was so shocked. First off, how inappropriate, but also how did he know? “When I first walked in, you kept on looking me up and down as if you’ve never seen a man before. You keep fidgeting with your rings. Usually new jewelry makes people fidget but the stains on your fingers suggest you wear rings frequently which means you're nervous. Also ever since I’ve taken my mask offyou haven’t stopped staring at my lips. So, sweet girl, tell me when was the last time you were satisfied?”

I just sat there, gapping at him like a fish out of water. What was I supposed to say? Why thank you for asking, although the last time I’ve had sex was a year ago but the last time I’ve orgasmed has been longer? Before I could come up with an answer he got a phone call. Someone named Morgan needed him or something. Whatever it was, it seemed urgent.“Sorry our meeting got cut short, Y/N. Very important FBI business came up. Here is my card, has my name, email and phone number. I recommend calling me because I don’t usually check my emails or my texts. Your professor already gave me your contact information so I know how to find you. I am very excited for the upcoming months.”

“Oh- uh, thank you,” I whispered, still shocked. He grabs my hand so that he can hand me my card since I haven’t moved a muscle. 

“Oh and Y/N?” My head wips up at him and I let out a “hmm?” that could be mistaken for a moan. “Green is a nice color on you.” Confused, I looked down to see my button up shirt had popped open, letting my green covered tits be seen by the world. Eyes blown open, I immediately cover myself and say a thank you that sounded so embarrassing because my voice cracked. He just chucked and told me he would contact me soon. Before he left, I could’ve sworn he looked at me as if I was a sexy hollywood actress or something. But I brushed it off. Maybe he was concerned for me. After all, I had my tits out and made it obvious that I was desperately horny. God these five months will be awful if I keep thinking about Dr. Reid as a sex partner than a mentor. Then again the concept of having sex with your mentor can be hot. Nope. No. I should stop there.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #dom!spencer #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut

[king-maven-calore]

prompt #25 “your hair is really soft” for marecal please 😙

I did this and "10 cal and mare please. idc who says it lol"👀 in a single drabble, I hope you guys don't mind. It's a modern AU I guess

Cal had been volunteering at the Scarlet Guard summer camp for two seasons now, this would be his third. The first time he’d been here as moral support for Ptolemus, who’d been sent here for his community service sentence. Ptolemus had signed up again for the following summers for Wren, a med student in charge of the infirmary, and Cal kept signing up because he found out he loved working with children.

He always had a great time helping the kids, training them in archery and other sports, patting their backs when they got homesick, leading them on walks through the woods belting out marching songs, sitting with them at lunch, and making good use of his excellent puns arsenal. The kids had a blast, and he did too.

In this part of the Greatwoods Region, he found paradise. His dad disapproved and Maven did not understand but was he too happy to mind.

It would have been a shame if he’d proven them right on his third year here when he almost died out of sheer stupidity. But could he be blamed? Could he be blamed when the five new counselors got down from one of the early buses and one of them looked like that?

Among the newbies, there was a petite girl with golden skin that seemed to sparkle under the early morning sun. She jumped down from the bus and a cloud of dirt exploded around her already dirty Vans, her toned legs were generously exposed under her jean shorts, and the lines of her abdomen peeking out from under the camp’s counselor reglementary red polo shirt as she stretched and arched her back to tie her dyed brown and purple hair in a bun, scowling at her surroundings with something akin to distrust. She was the loveliest girl he’d ever seen in such a violent way... was it really his fault he didn’t pay attention to the lightbulbs he’d been changing at the side of the dining hall, perched atop a rickety ladder 10 feet above the ground? It wasn’t. Electricity didn’t give a shit about whose fault was it though when he blindly stuck his hand in the exposed wires next to the light socket.

A white explosion, sparkles, and a sensation of being pulled away at 1000 miles per hour.

Next thing he knew, he was on his back and there was a warm mouth against his. Warm, soft, insistent— on breathing air into him. And good god, this person smelled like heaven; jasmine and rain. Much to his dismay, the scent and the mouth left him and his chest started getting crushed in rhythmic, urgent motions.

Cal gulped air and shot upright. He was surrounded by 20 consternated young faces and one barely inches away from his face. Beautiful, wide brown eyes, thick long eyelashes that brushed against high cheekbones when the girl who’d just saved his life blinked twice.

“Dude.” Kneeling next to him, the girl with the purple hair knitted her brow. “What the fuck?”

And Cal couldn’t help but smile at her. A reflex. She was even prettier up close.

“I think we should check for brain damage,” a blond with bottle green eyes muttered.

Oh, but his brain was fine. It was his heart he should get checked, for he’d just been struck by Cupid’s arrow.

And electricity, of course. The smell of burnt hair, clothes, and flesh reminded him.

The result of that encounter turned out to be quite positive. Yes, he got a second-degree burn on his right hand and a dislocated shoulder from the fall but he refused to be sent home, it had been worth it to get to meet Mare Barrow.

She was 18, from Albanus, only here for the money, best friends with the blondie jokester and— as he learned after a dubiously moral social media stalking session —single and interested in men.

The only thing he regretted from that “meet cute” was that he’d been mostly unconscious (technically dead) for 99% of the time her lips were on his.

He lived for the moments they crossed paths during their daily activities around the camp. His heart grew in size about five times when she teased him and lightly punched his stomach or ruffled his hair.

Ptolemus cocked a brow but kept his mouth thankfully shut when Cal decided to start sitting on the counselor’s table during dinner instead of with the kids, as he had grown accustomed to.

It was miserable and extraordinary how he even found the way she ate her food endearing. More often than not, miserable because he couldn’t A: get her to like him, for she was too laser-focused on doing her job efficiently and getting the hell out of the camp; B: touch her as casually as she did with him because his hand was bandaged, and C: relationships between counselors were strictly forbidden.

By the time his hand was healthy enough to be of any use, three weeks had passed and he was head over heels, neck-deep (to not use other body parts for reference), stupidly in love with the sarcastic girl who had put her own breath into his lungs, challenged him every time they got the chance and looked at him like she wanted to sink her hand into his ribcage to take a bite out of his heart. Needless to say, he wanted to touch her. Badly. Ok, maybe do a bit more than 'touch', but you get the idea.

His excuse was handed on a silver platter by one of his favorite campers, Luther Carver. The kid who was usually off-standish and grim— just misunderstood, in Cal’s opinion – had signed up for the braiding lessons that Mare was unhappily in charge of.

On his way back from the lake, his crew of kids trailing behind him, he passed along the group of girls and Luther taking their lesson, sitting in a circle on the grass between the pine trees. An idyllic image of children focused on their task, and Mare’s poorly concealed discomfort as she sat on a log bench and supervised the activities, biting the inside of her cheek, elbows on her knees. It should be illegal to be that beautiful without meaning to.

“Hi, Cal!” Luther chirped as a girl behind him stared with furious determination at her handiwork. “How does my hair look?”

Cal signaled for his group to keep walking back to the camp and approached the small clearing.

“It looks amazing, buddy!” Cal gave him a thumb up. To be honest, his braid of long black hair was slightly (very) crooked to the left, and Mare noticed. She hid her laugh behind cough and a fist. “It is very original.”

Luther beamed and turned slightly to wink in his fellow camper’s direction. The girl blushed and giggled and Cal wanted nothing more than to give them a bear hug and tell them how smart and kind they were. Kids were the best thing in this world. Especially when they said things like...

“Mare’s hair is still the same,” Luther sighed wearily. “Someone should do something about it.”

All the girls hummed and nodded in agreement and Mare closed her eyes and Cal could read her thoughts as she counted to ten.

“Fine, you guys win.” Ah, so her untouched hair had been a recurring topic. “Cal can braid my hair!” she said with fake excitement that went over the kids’ heads, thankfully. “If he knows how to, that is.” Her brown eyes locked with his in camaraderie, fully expecting him to turn down the task with some excuse to appease their audience.

“Ok,” he shrugged happily as he walked over to her and her smug face dissolved into a confused frown and the kids cheered.

He made a shooing motion with his hand and she moved to sit on the grass awkwardly while he took her place on the log bench, sitting with his feet placed on either side of her body.

“What the hell are you doing?” she whispered through gritted teeth so only he could hear her, craning her neck up to glare at him, when he started cracking his knuckles for dramatic effect.

Were this any other context, he would savor the warmth her body radiated to the inside of his legs. Not this context. Absolutely not.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he smirked down at her. “Now stop moving and let me braid your hair.”

With one last suspicious look, she heaved a breath and stared ahead as he tugged the scrunchie off her hair and let the brown and purple waves spill down her back.

Cal had no fucking clue how to do braid but how hard could it be? It was like a knot with hair. Right? He looked at what the girls sitting on the grass were doing. Ok, that seemed doable. He combed his long fingers through Mare’s hair to loosen any knots and... Holy. Fucking. Shit.

He successfully hid a shudder while Mare uninterestedly hugged her knees to her chest.

He was choking on his own breath. Her hair was so soft and the scent of it was so amazing it pierced his fingertips, reached his bloodstream, and shot to his head. Jasmine and rain like that first day. Cal stilled for a moment and blinked forcefully to regain some semblance of rational thought.

“What is it?” Mare muttered curtly. Was it his imagination or did it sound more like a gasp than scolding?

“Nothing,” he said and started imitating the nearest girl’s technique. No point in lying, he bent down to whisper in her ear. “Your hair is really soft.” It wasn’t meant to come out so raspy and needy, and still...

Mare turned to the side and they were face to face. She seemed offended, but not really, with a confused glare darkening her burning gaze, a lovely red tint spreading all over her cheeks and neck, slightly parted plush lips.

She looked on the verge of kissing him or punching him. Cal prayed and ached it was the former because she licked her lips, leaving a glossy sheen and he wanted nothing more than to...

“OHHH Mare and Cal sitting in a tree!” A girl squealed, pointing at them from across the clearing and suddenly 10 pairs of devilish eyes were on them and chanting. “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

They jumped away from each other so fast one might think they had been electrocuted again as they rushed to explain that “No, they were NOT doing anything of the sort!”

#marecal #I had so much fun with this one #My fics #ask #anon #red queen #RQ fanfic #forgive the grammar #enjoy the vibes

[ronsonlywhore]

LAVENDER CONFESSING HER LOVE FOR U!!!!!

❛ 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗿𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗹𝗲𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗴𝗶𝘁. ❜ lavender brown x reader

summary: ron weasley may be a complete dickhead, but you do owe him your life’s greatest joy: lavender brown.

pairing: lavender brown x fem!reader

warnings: a bit of angst and pining / ron weasley slander???? i’m sorry this hurts me just as much as it hurts you

a/n: YES THANK YOU MY LOVELY ANON FOR REQUESTING LAVENDER ILY SHAWTY. also i LOVE ron, but for the sake of this imagine i must learn to hate him sigh. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

everybody knew you hated ronald weasley, but they didn’t know why. 

it was quite simple really, the reason for your ever-burning desire to pitch weasley off the astronomy tower and throw a party in celebration: he so securely grasped the attention of lavender brown, your best friend.

it wasn’t like you liked lavender or anything...okay, well, you did, as more than in ‘just a friend way’. you two met in the first year, on the hogwarts express. you had complimented her hair, mesmerized with the sheer curliness of it and the way she wore it in two pigtails. you remember your stomach doing a flip, but you assumed it was just the nervousness of seeing which house you would be sorted in. you realize now that it was your eleven-year-old heart telling you, “hey, this girl is kind of really pretty.”

when you both got sorted into gryffindor, you were the happiest girl in the world. you were happy that you didn’t have to be torn away from your first friend at hogwarts.

you even thought her name was pretty, though she didn’t think so. at first, she insisted you call her a nickname, like ‘lav,’ but you refused. you liked saying her name, liked how nicely it sounded with your voice. it rolled right off your tongue. lav-en-der. 

when she first showing an interest in weasley, around the end of fourth year, you didn’t know how to feel. you weren’t even sure you were supposed to feel anything; it’s not like you guys were dating. but you felt hollow whenever she would gush about how weasley looked at her in potions, or when she ranted on and on about his freckles and how they were “like the stars in our galaxy, all spread out.” 

you couldn’t hate lavender for liking him, but you could hate weasley for making lavender like him. you could hate how he would always brush a hand through his hair, earning a swoon from lavender. you could hate how he always seemed to obtain lavender’s stare, even when he was swallowing a chicken wing whole. you could hate how much lavender wanted him. you could hate how much it was his fault that lavender didn’t want you.

when weasley tried out for the quidditch team, you knew you never stood a chance.

and when lavender and him started dating, all you wanted was for the world to swallow you whole. 

lavender would spend every one of her waking moments with weasley. heading out to lunch? i have to go find won-won. want to study for our astronomy test together? i promised won-won i would study with him. need help with your transfiguration essay? thanks, but i’m sure won-won will help me.

won-won. it was always about won-won. you wished lavender would give you a nickname, no matter how stupid it sounded. 

and the worst part was, you could tell weasley would never care for lavender like you would. you knew, always knew, that he was just going out with her to make granger jealous. granger was who he really wanted, and lavender was just a pawn in his plan to get her. 

so yeah, you thought ronald weasley was a complete and utter git.

lavender would always go on about how weasley made her feel wanted and cherished, and that made you feel sad. hadn’t you made lavender feel like that since first-year?

still, she was happy, and that’s all that mattered.

but then she wasn’t happy. 

it was like a dementor was always near her. she never smiled anymore. she kept her head down. her eyes were always clouded, her head always somewhere else. you asked her what was wrong, and she answered, “i don’t think ron loves me anymore.”

and she told you about the hospital wing incident, and how he called for hermione instead of her, how he made her feel like a burden sometimes.

you didn’t care that weasley had just recovered from almost dying; you tracked him down and punched him in the face, the hardest punch your arm would let you give. 

his nose spouted blood for an hour. professor mcgonagall wouldn’t stop reminding you of that fact during the detention you snagged for yourself after granger went running to her.

“why did you punch him?” lavender asked.

“because he hurt you, lavender.”

“no one’s ever punched anyone for me before.” she responded quietly. 

i’d do a lot of things for you, lavender, you thought.

weasley always cowered away from you after then. that brought you joy, though you wished he would get nearer so you could punch him again. he didn’t treat lavender for what she truly was, in your not-so-humble-opinion: a gift from the heavens above.

if weasley wouldn’t love lavender, you would. you would adore her like your life depended on it, love her like the moon loves the sun; out of reach, but never too far to admire. 

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

“(y/n), i think i love you.” 

“aw, thanks lavender, i love you too.” 

“no, i mean, i think i love love you.”

you stop writing, your quill coming to a complete stop. you look up at lavender, and see her big, brown chocolate eyes staring at back at you. she’s biting her lip; you’ve noticed a lot about her lips these days, like how they never seem to be chapped, how soft they look, how she chews on them when she’s nervous.

she’s nervous now. you’re starting to get nervous too. not in a bad way, in a good way, like how you’re anticipating good news and can hardly wait to hear them.

“...love love me?” is all you can manage to say.

she opens her mouth, then closes it again, looks down at her book and back at you before she finally says, “i know it’s stupid, but i think i always have.”

you will yourself to say something, anything, before she thinks you don’t feel the same way. because you do feel the same way, have been feeling the same way for the past seven years of your life. 

“you know how you complimented my hair first year? on the hogwarts express?” she continues.

you nod and answer, “yes. it was in pigtails.”

“even though people made fun of me for wearing them, saying that they were childish and unsophisticated, i kept wearing them because you liked them. and if you liked them, that was enough for me.”

it’s funny, really. how quickly you realize you want nothing more to hug a certain person and never let go.

“you would always call me pretty, even when i didn’t feel like it, and when ron ripped out my heart and stomped on it in front of me, you stomped on his face.” she laughs.

you laugh too, simply because her laugh makes you laugh, seeing her happy makes you happy. 

she reaches across the table and takes your hand in hers. they fit perfectly together.

before she can speak, you say, “i love love you too, lavender.”

she smiles and presses a sweet kiss to your hand, and right then and there you silently thank ron weasley for being the biggest git in the world, because if he hadn’t been a jerk, maybe lavender would’ve never realized how much she just wanted you.

you now love lavender like the galaxy love the stars; making sure everyone can see the brightness they bring from millions of miles away.

#harry potter #lavender brown #lavender brown x reader #fluff #angst #pining #ron weasley #ron weasley x reader #lavender brown fluff #i love lavender brown #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter fluff #harry potter smut #fem x fem #lavender brown x y/n

[namjoonchronicles]

late | th

↳ genre fluff, established relationship, dad Taehyung

↳ words 4k

↳ summary a trip back to hometown for a friend turned into something memorable which embarked something deep in Taehyung’s heart. 

↳ notes i discussed the premise of this story with my good friend @hellotherehoneybee​ and based on her ideas, i prolonged the length and added some plots to push a heavy turn so appropriately, the summary here is thanks to her. 

↳ warning mentions of childbirth, vivid descriptions of the scene, major character death

↳ song taylor swift ‘gold rush’, imagine dragons ‘levitate’, taio cruz ‘telling the world’, taylor swift ‘ you’re in love’

.

.

.

“Taehyung… tea?”

Sand cuffed the shore. Half painted coast on the canvas. The wind blew rather harshly and every strike of wind, Taehyung’s wild mane of hair ruffled against themselves. They were long enough to cover his eyes but it didn’t stop him from painting the colours on his canvas. He blinks at the view of the sea and how it doesn’t change despite the years passed by. He wore slippers with an open toe, a baggy shirt and baggy trousers. His eyes looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Sunken cheeks and empty eyes, his jaw was immaculate and his face was crafted by God. He is beautiful in this light. So beautiful. 

“What are you drawing so seriously?” you asked. But no answers from him. As it should.

Six, maybe ten years back, this caravan was parked here. Pair of hands raised to the ceiling. The sunlight sieved through the blinds. The pair laced themselves, and toyed around. The make out of the knuckles under this light, showed how veiny his hands were than yours. Small chuckles and soft whispers accommodate the serene and tranquil moment. The caravan was parked by the sea. His easel leaned against the kitchen counter next to the sink. His whole body covered yours as you snuggled in bed. You thumbed his supple cheeks and traced the shape of his lips as he lay half-awake. You ran your index finger down the slope of his pretty nose and counted his eyelashes, you lined the edges of his brows and ran your hand through the locks of his brown hair that looked lighter in the sun. He moans sweetly at your touch. 

You proceed to trace your fingers down the helix of his ears, his excellent jaw lines and chin. There's prickling hair ends at the chin and you thought that he might need a shave. You remembered how bad he was at shaving. You even suggested that he should stop shaving all the way. The smile he had on when you said it was priceless. Then he remembered that society wouldn’t have allowed him to live. Taehyung’s eyes half-opened at the stimulating touch. He breaks a smile in his sleepy state and he crunches his nose at the view of you. You swore, you had never seen anyone that beautiful. He nuzzles into your face and neck, planting kisses where he can and he spoke, in his drowsiness, “I’m so sleepy.”

He gets on top of you and buries his face in your neck. Through lighthearted giggles, you say, “You’re heavy, big bear…” While making no effort to push him away. He feels like a weighted blanket you always wanted when you’re younger. Warm and snuggly. Gentle and tender. He smells like a pillow and his hair is soft. He loves it when your fingers thread through his hair, just caressing the glorious length, he’ll make sounds that are so lovely. You brushed your lips on top of his head and one arm around him. They never meet the total length of his shoulders because they were too broad. So you end up scratching the fabric of his thin shirt. Had the weather been warm enough, he would have rather slept in his skins. You whispered softly, as you felt him drifting back to sleep in his new found comfort, “If you don’t get up now, we are going to be very late…” 

And we won’t be able to help around like we planned.

Jeju’s beaches are breathtakingly beautiful. Especially in Handam. Where the waters are brilliant blue and the skies azure. The black rocks, rubbles, kissing the shore. It would make a fine painting, this scenery. Taehyung poked his head out the caravan door at you, 

“I thought you said we’re late?” 

You glanced over your shoulder and gave him a sheepish smile. Jogging lightly back into the caravan, you pinched his sides as you walked in. 

In fact, you weren’t late. You were not late at all. Taehyung’s eyes had always been inviting. Beautiful brown irises so encapsulating they almost felt unreal. It was those eyes that your friends recognised. They quickly adopted him once he carried in all the groceries like he is one of them. The crowd roars as they see you because they know it will shrink you. You were never good at crowds, so you covered your ears and physically shrunk while laughing till your eyes turned to crescents on their own. Quickly, the host came to the rescue, gathering you in her arms and calling off those people that are bothering you. At once, Taehyung had disappeared to make new friends and greet the old ones. 

“A baby shower, this late?” you stared at your friend, Junhee quizzically. She pursed her lips and stared off to the corner of the room while tucking your arm in hers.

“I wanted an excuse to see my good friend,” she said with a cunning grin, then she cowers, falls silent in a sudden, her palm rubbing over her swollen belly. Nine months in, any day now. You knew in your heart that it was a bad idea, but still, her husband, Jimin, felt like it was okay to hold these gatherings for her. Jimin would do anything to make her happy. Then, she hisses. And you start to cower over her, pulling the chair closer for her to sit. 

“Is it the contraction? Has any contraction happened today?” 

“No, this is the first…” 

Junhee seemed to have calmed down after she rested. You still wanted to talk to Jimin if you had the time, asking why he’d think it was a good idea to hold the party anyways. You had your answer when he walked in, snapping the fridge door open for a cold drink refill.

“She looked so miserable these past few days, I just wanted to see her smile,” Jimin carried two bottles of fruit punch as he brushed shoulders with you. Then, a toddler came crawling in, on all fours, stopping just by your feet and falling onto her bum and sat. Her twinkling eyes ushers you to carry her up. 

“Where did you come from, little one?” You cooed. She curls up to your neck, and starts babbling. Then you suddenly felt her little hand roaming around your clothed boobs, and when she felt she found the tip, she began suckling. And you laughed out loud. Loud enough to have everyone's attention on you, including Taehyung’s. The baby’s mother rushed to you in her loose ponytail, handling another two slightly older children that were at her feet. One is tugging at her blouse and the other wailing so loud, you became concerned. You helped her into a nursing room, Jimin’s wife had prepared. It was a short tattling walk away from where you were. The baby was hungry. She’s four months old and today was her first day out since she was born and was brought home. You were glad that the number of guests didn’t scare one bit. 

Taehyung had distributed the barbecued sausages to the kids around. He had the sharp sticks taken out and was helping to blow the heat from the sausages from one of the kids. He looks pretty much at home with everything. It’s probably been awhile because he finally saw you out the room carrying the baby, her little stodgy fingers curled around your thumb and she is gurgling. What a beautiful sight it was. It seemed you might have heard his thoughts when you looked up to the side and had the baby waved to Taehyung. He chuckles through his nose and crinkles his eyes at the little one, making a funny face. The little toddler extended her short petite arms and grabbed air repeatedly at Taehyung’s presence. Then you motioned her closer to Taehyung.

“I think she wants you to carry her…” 

“Me?” He sounded unsure, uncertain, but, he brushed invisible dust off his palm on his butt and, “It’s been awhile but. Okay.” Arms open, collecting the toddler in.

The pinkish hue of her skin, her soft supple cheek, her little angel hairband, and twinkling, gleaming smile. Taehyung memorised her scent like a wolf would to a pup, with his eyes shut, his nose nudging on her softness. His arms held her gently but firmly. It felt like there was only him and the baby, he shut every other sound. When he held that baby, there’s stillness in the air, the noises ceased to exist, the visions clouded and the heaven’s hinted; it was his calling. It felt very much like sinking and flying at the same time. It was as if the world stood still, the time stopped and the anticipation grew. A lifetime in a second. Gold rush, a dam broke and first rain in the desert. Taehyung eyes fluttered open to the view of the baby’s rosy cheeks and immediately searched for you. Any semblance of you. 

But you were kneeling by Jimin’s wife laying body on the floor. 

Taehyung padding over the wooden balcony into the living room. In daze, Taehyung passed the baby over to her mother and closed into you. Your mouth was moving but for some reason, his brain couldn’t string the words. You were screaming but he heard nothing until seconds after.

“Call 911!” You ordered. There was a puddle of water where she once stood. 

Meanwhile, you’re massaging her tummy. Jimin’s at the other end, and people pooling in to watch. The men are asked to wait outside with the kids for the ambulance. Taehyung had his hand on the house phone, and as he tried to arrange his words, his attention flew to you and your alarmed eyes. Your lips read, 

“Speak slowly… clearly.”

The dial tone ended and, “We need. Ambulance. Birth. A woman is giving birth, please send in an ambulance.” He turns to you again and right now, you have all the ladies lined up. 

“Okay, listen. Towels, all of it, blankets, pillows, sterile gloves, plastic bags, and Jimin,” you listed. Everyone spreads around to get everything. Towels from upstairs, blankets from the laundry room, pillows from the guest room and plastic bags from the kitchen drawers. Even Jimin who was outside waiting for the ambulance is being carried in by Jungkook. Taehyung handed a plastic cup of water. Jimin has his wife’s head cradled in his lap, padded with pillows and she’s holding her hand.

“I told you this was a good idea…” she joked, “I only trust her around…”

“I have only delivered a baby once in my life and that was in nursing school, that does not mean this was a correct choice, Junhee…” you half scolded her.

“I wouldn’t have it in any other way,” she said with a big smile before she hisses in pain and clenching around Jimin’s fingers. Then she groaned till veins were popping on her forehead. Jimin kept on peppering kisses and wiping her sweat with warm water. She continues to wretch and shiver. She felt cramps in her abdomens, churning. So she retched. What a relief she had her husband on the side. Jimin’s whispering words of affirmations and it really helped her calm down. Although she is really not far from giving birth. She is 9 centimetres dilated. 

“Where is the ambulance?” You asked in a rushed tone. 

“Any minute now!” Someone at the door informed. 

That’s not good enough. She will be 10 centimetres in no time and if the ambulance isn’t here by then, the baby will drown. She is perfectly ready for vaginal delivery, you grab a towel, place it underneath her openings and tell her to push until she feels the contraction. Work with the contraction and push as hard as she could. You also massaged to make sure the baby’s head was out first. From the physical examinations, the baby’s head is visible. All that’s left to do is for Junhee to push. You thought her the breathing method, and counted with her. Even Jimin’s following suit. 

“Deep breaths, sweetheart. You can do this…” you reminded her, “And then we’re gonna go again, okay?”

“I think I’m going to vomit…” Jimin fetches the bag from the side and vomits. Taehyung gulped, watching the fiasco from the side. He watches his wife carefully guiding, and assuring and giving space towards the mother to feel as comfortable as she can. 

Junhee was obedient and she was cooperating. She was entirely under your care. You can see from her eyes that she trusted you with her life. She had been, ever since you knew her. And now, she entrusted you with her life and her baby’s life. Junhee delivers a big push and this time the baby slides out into your arm along with it’s placenta. The detachment is healthy, and you quickly glance to the time, on the grandpa’s clock on the corner, 

“Someone note the time!”

“3:47PM!”

You placed the baby on his mother’s arm, a healthy baby boy. Another warm towel on his tiny body and his mom’s tired laugh. He is red and warm and crying, lungs are not congested. But still you need to wait for the ambulance. You placed the placenta into the bag Taehyung opened and told Jimin to hold them up. You refused to cut the umbilical cord without proper tools. It’s not sterile here to do so and there’s no medical back-up should anything go wrong. You told everyone to stay put until the ambulance arrived. Taehyung caught your eyes from across the room and slowly, you drew a smile on your face, contradicting his worried one. And again, in this lifetime, even when he was most concerned about you, you told him with your eyes that you’re okay. Even at this distance. 

“Who delivered the baby?” the ambulance personnel yelled, his voice seeped in, through the windows to you, while you were cleaning up the living room. 

Taehyung rushed to the door with a panicked look on his face and you sprinted out.

They gave you the scissors.

“The ma’am wanted you to cut the umbilical cord instead of the father, will you do the honors?” The man in medical assistant uniform smiled at you. You took the scissors in your hand and you glanced up at her, tears welling up in your eyes and you cried, “Yes, of course, yes…”

“She’s a retired nurse, I never once worried about my life when she’s around,” Park Junhee boasted as she was carried into the ambulance. Jimin climbed in, too. You followed the ambulance close while Taehyung drove Jimin’s car. It’s to help them later, if Jimin needs to return home. Taehyung left the car parked in the hospital parking area and climbed into your shared caravan. He offered to drive. And as he was driving, and talking about how cool you were as the night fell, he heard nothing from your side. You had already fallen asleep. Defeated by the tiredness. He stops at the same spot this morning and lowered your chair. He fetches a blanket from the bed and tucked you in warm. You moaned and switched to your side. He leans over you and plants a firm kiss on your head. As you swam deeper in your slumber, the stars twinkling in the sapphire blue sky, the moon stood witness to the feeling Taehyung had over you. He lowered his own chair to watch you sleep with a smile and fondness in his eyes. 

His soft curls fall over the hood of his eyes, touching the bridge of his nose as he clamors in renewed emotions he felt for you. Such pure love, the kind that authors would write about in novels, many years ago. He is so in love, his feet are levitating from the ground it seemed. One of those wishes thrown at the shooting skies had come true. Broken pieces of him, finally held together, and the last piece was in a form of a person. He extended his arm to reach yours, and you took them in like a soft toy. He gladly cuffed himself to you, it's been his fate. Lips, body and soul, is yours. The bell resonated from the far back of his mind, of when soulmates found each other. His heart thumping so loudly he feared you might have heard them. You have stirred something inside him he doesn’t quite understand yet. Rain or snow, storms or deserts, it's your hand he wanted to hold. He wants to create a home so comfy for you and maybe, in between you two, a baby that’s both his and yours. Someone to carry his name. Symphonies of violin when he watches you sleep. Like an orchestra coming together. 

Walking down the street in the morning, you wore beige knitted cardigan, hands intertwined. He swings your hand with a big toothy grin on his face. His soft curls flying in the wind, his deep chuckle sparking your insides with excitement. You wanted to choose a gift for Jimin and Junhee’s baby boy who is now at the hospital. With this man’s hand who made your heart ascend in the small of your back, it felt like you could do anything. An older woman who was also a customer in the small shop gave you both a big smile. 

“Newly weds?” She asked.

“Why? Do we seem like so?” You asked her warmly.

“We've been married for almost 2 years now…” Taehyung corrected her.

The older woman chuckled, and then her smile faltered, crestfallen on a vision it seemed, “Such soulmates are rare… You looked so good together, such a beautiful couple…” Taehyung wanted to buy a small necklace for the older women. He grabbed one that caught his eyes and dashed out the shop’s door, but the old woman had disappeared. 

“She walked really fast for someone her age…” Taehyung spoke to himself, squinting hard at the distance in both directions. To see if there’s any semblance of the friendly old woman anywhere. It’s like she vanished. When he returned to the shop, you asked him to buy you a glass ball with a bear reading and confettis inside. It was nothing special for Taehyung but you wanted it so he bought them without much thought. In the caravan, it was placed on the dashboard with a double tape, securely glued. 

“Wouldn’t it be nice if we have our own little one?” Taehyung stared at his friend Jimin, cooing his little baby.

“Could we?” Your smile faded as you bore into the view of the glass. You turned to him with a broken smile, “At my age?”

“You’re not as old as you think you are…” Taehyung said. And did he prove them well. Nine months later, you were holding his arm as you walked out of the apartment door with Jimin’s wife on the phone, telling you that she had arrived. Unlike her, you wanted to be at the hospital when the water broke. The same beige cardigan you wore on her child’s birthday,you wore today. It’s already old and strings were coming out at the ends but you insisted. Taehyung carried you bridal style into the car, towels ready. His arms were yours to clench on and while you were groaning, he was biting his lips at the same force. You clawed into his flesh as he calmed you down. Jimin was driving and his wife was teaching you the same breathing method you taught her. You plastered your face into Taehyung’s neck. Hair stuck into your forehead as you sweat profusely, fighting through the incessant pain. 

“Please hurry Jimin, please hurry…” Taehyung begged.

“I have the hazard lights on, we will make it on time, don’t worry bud…” Jimin said in a rushed tone. 

In the delivery room, Taehyung was dressed in all blue, masks and gloves, just like the doctors and nurses. There’s only his eyes, but you recognise them so well. One look, in that delivery room, meant only for you. Light hearted jokes and hand held tight. He pressed his lips on your whitened knuckles the whole time. His tears fell like diamonds as he watches you push with all your strength, a baby that is his. No words exchanged, but you saw enough. He was in love, so direly in love. Memories flash in the back of your mind, under clenched eyes, kisses on the sidewalks, love declarations under the heavy rain. The way he lifts you to the sky in that storm, slowly sliding you down his body, enough for you to place your forehead on his. His wide gaping smile, drenched in the night under the lamp post, warm wafts of breaths escaped his lips. You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him hard. You couldn’t hear what the midwives are saying, but you know one thing, this is the ultimate gift you could give the man that has given you everything. 

One last push, and a shrilling tiny cry accompanied. Taehyung looked at you and linked his forehead on yours. You’ve gone pale. So pale. Your lips were blue and your eyes were drooping. You are coming in and out of consciousness. The doctors had to lead Taehyung out of the delivery room, they had to perform operations. You were too tired to continue pushing. But before he leaves, you brushed your lips on his left cheek, and you tell him in your last bits of strength, 

“I-I love you. So-so much...Thank you…” 

Taehyung’s hand was separated from yours. He was grabbing air just as yours were holding out. 

.

.

.

.

Today. 

“Taehyung, tea?” His mother greeted him. He and his easel in use. He shook his head. And from inside the caravan. Small pair of hands curled on the handles, to push the door open. Carrying a beige cardigan. Four feets putting on shoes and padded to their father. With brown irises twinkling at Taehyung’s back, no older than four years old, Taehyung glanced over his shoulder and spread his arms. One in each arm. 

You watched them from the caravan, and it felt like you were right there. You could almost touch him, his hair, the slope of his nose. The babies. The babies are all grown. You could almost smell the sea. The breeze you knew so well. But you can’t. 

Six years ago.

Taehyung returned home with the babies. Dressed in all black, he has to head back out again, to send his wife. When he returned, he saw the babies sleeping on their side, covered by the beige cardigan. He rushes outside to where the caravan’s were. His mother caught him just in time as he fell to the ground, shivering and calling out your name repeatedly. His mother cradles him in her lap.

“Release, my child. Release your agony…” Taehyung’s mother cradled her baby boy in her arms and Taehyung let out a cry, heart-thumping, guttural screaming cry as he let out the grief he had kept in the silent since he saw your casket lowered, six-feet underground, a baby in his arms, sleeping, coddled in her late mother’s knitted cardigan she wore when she was at the hospital, trying to have her. Taehyung looked up at the sky that strangely bright day, and a single drop of rain fell to the left side of his cheek where his wife had kissed before she went away. 

God is neither late nor early. 

God took one of His angels back home to Him. Left two behind in Taehyung’s care.

.

.

.

.

Copyright © January 9th, 2021 namjoonchronicles do not repost, leave feedback :’) please

#late #bangtanarmynet #btsguild #kth #kim taehyung #taehyung fanfic #taehyung ff #taehyung fics #taehyung husband aus #dad au #bangtan fics #bangtan fanfic #bangtan ff #bts v #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts reactions #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader insert #taehyung x y/n #fluff #bts fluff #bts angst #thekimlinenetwork #thekimlinenet