#but for now. i wanna keep readers in the loop. and offer Something to make up for the near year of radio silence.

[orcelito]

So discacc's 3 year anniversary is coming up in 2 days. I've known I wouldn't be able to write an update chapter in time for it, nor am I motivated enough to do it, but I looked in my WIP chapter for it and was pleasantly surprised to find 3k words already written

So... I'm thinking about posting an update on discacc's anniversary, both to share what's been going on with discacc readers (who don't follow me here) & to share the 3k words I currently have written. It's not as good as an actual update, but it's SOMETHING... and it'll have to do.

#speculation nation #discacc shit #thinking that whenever i do come back to discacc officially. ill delete this chapter and reupload with the Actual chapter #once it's finished. #but for now. i wanna keep readers in the loop. and offer Something to make up for the near year of radio silence. #i posted updates the past 2 years on the anniversary and so i really want to this time too. #it's. to show discacc readers that Yes i do still care. #itnl may be my current shining baby but discacc has been so important to me #both for developing my writing and just. Everything that it is. #so. discacc (kind of) update in 2 days! keep ur eyes peeled!

[ptergwen]

hi val, i loved can’t get close so much. i’m so excited that you have your requests open. can you please do a fic with clingy puppy peter energy again where petey is just a sweet cuddly baby at a friendgroup sleepover fighting for his life cause he’s having to constantly share the readers attention with everyone else and he’s just a pouty baby but then he just gives up on being a sweet beb and turns into a chaotic horny devil to get readers attention lol. thank you <3

requests & asks | blurb masterlist | main masterlist

warnings: 18+, suggestiveness, language, mentions of drinking, and implied smut

a/n: thank you lovely! since this fit so well i decided to make it a little continuation of can’t get close but it can totally be read as a stand alone too! keep the requests coming y’all, happy reading <3

“those are the rules, peter. boys out there, girls in here.”

“well, the rules suck. who made them?”

“i did.”

your friends are staying the night because it’s late and everyone has been drinking, which is the perfect excuse for a sleepover. you’ve decided to split it so that you, liz, mj, and betty sleep in your room. you thought peter, harry, and ned could take the living room, but peter would rather be with you.

peter holds both your hands and swings them back and forth.

“ugh, y/n/n. you and your rules. why?”

“so there’s no funny business. you know ned and betty would go at it like rabbits.”

“you think liz and mj wouldn’t?”

“no, they have class. besides, someone’s gotta keep harry company.”

peter loops his arms around your waist, pouting out his bottom lip.

“but i wanna sleep with you.”

you laugh and take his hands again. he keeps his arms around you.

“your sex drive is out of control, tiger.”

“no, not like that. i mean, i’m not opposed, but i meant i wanna sleep in your bed.”

“why, you’re above the couch?”

“because i wanna be with you.”

you peck peter’s lips with a grin. he’s making his puppy eyes at you, and no matter how cute they are, he should know by now that they don’t work on you.

“i know, but some guy time would be good for you, and i need girl time.“

betty pops her head out of your bedroom door.

“y/n, c’mon! liz raided your bathroom for stuff to do facials.“

“that’s my cue. be right there, betts!”

peter tightens his arms around you.

“seriously? you’re such a baby.“

“your baby.”

“very cute, but let me go.”

“why can’t i just join you? i like facials.”

“so do them with ned and harry. you’ve gotta let me go now, peter.”

“nuh uh.”

“peter.”

it takes some effort, but you manage to pry peter off of you and free yourself from his arms. peter whines like the baby he is. you bite back a smile.

“i’ll see you later, okay?”

“fine. enjoy girl time.”

you connect your lips with his once more. peter tries to deepen the kiss. you slip away before he can and run off to your room, where your friends are waiting for you. you turn back to look at peter, smirking. he hears you and the rest of the girls giggling, then the door shuts behind you.

peter accepts his defeat and heads into the living room to join ned and harry.

harry sits in the middle of the couch with his arms spread out on either cushion. he sips a beer while ned searches for something on your tv.

“parker, there you are! leeds was just about to introduce me to star wars.”

“you’ve never seen star wars?”

peter sits down next to harry.

“nope, not a single one.”

“dude, that’s insane. they’re cult classics.”

“exactly what i said. harry, we’re about to change your life, bro.”

“i’m counting on it, leeds. hit it.”

ned presses play on the movie. harry passes him his beer. ned takes a swig and offers it to peter, but he declines.

peter and ned answer all of harry’s questions about star wars, which are numerous, but they don’t mind. it’s always nice when someone appreciates their star wars knowledge. harry and ned get easily invested in the movie. as much as peter loves it, his mind is elsewhere.

he keeps hearing laughter and squeals coming from your room, and he can make out every single one that comes from you.

what he’d give to be in there.

“you know what the girls were doing earlier? facials.”

“oh, shit. for real? that’s kinky.”

“not those kinds of facials, ned. the ones with face masks.”

“no, leeds is right. girls do kinky shit at sleepovers. sheesh, if only we could see what they were up to.”

that gives peter an idea.

“who says we can’t?”

the three of them tiptoe to your room, lead by peter. he puts a finger to his lips to signal ned and harry to be quiet. ned is behind him, and harry is behind ned. peter opens up your door a crack and peeks in.

liz is doing betty’s hair while she reads a magazine, mj is drawing, and you’re coloring in her work.

yeah, super kinky.

“i can’t see,” ned whispers. “you’re not missing much,” harry replies.

“peter, why do you get to be in the front? i’m the shortest.”

“because it was my idea.”

“so what?”

“so shut up.”

peter leans in to get a better look at you. you’re lying on the floor, on your stomach, tongue stuck out in concentration as you color. you’ve changed into pajamas, one of peter’s shirts. he absolutely swoons at that.

“what’s betty doing?”

“quiet, leeds. you’re gonna get us caught.”

“yeah, ned. be quiet.”

“will someone just tell me what’s going on?”

peter looks inside again, but none of you are there.

“they’re gone.”

“huh?”

“how?”

“i don’t know, they’re just gone. maybe they-“

the door opens up, and peter falls forward. liz has her hand on the doorknob. the rest of you are beside her. she puts her hands on her hips, glaring down at peter, then up at harry and ned.

“boys.”

ned and harry exchange a look.

“this was your idea, pete. you’re on your own.”

“what?”

“yeah, i’m with harry. sorry!”

the two of them run back to the living room, leaving peter to deal with all four of your wraths. he smiles awkwardly at you.

“this isn’t what it looks like.”

“were you spying on us?” betty asks. “perv,” mj adds.

“okay, it’s exactly what it looks like. but i can explain.”

“start talking,” liz says.

you extend a hand to help peter up, a smirk playing on your lips. he takes it and gets to his feet. heat rushes to his cheeks as he meets your eyes.

“i missed you.”

“really? that’s all you’ve got?” mj scoffs.

peter nods. you chuckle and pinch one of his blushing cheeks.

“that’s sweet, tiger. but spying on us isn’t cool. go back to the boys.”

“but i-“

“you heard her,” betty echoes.

she crosses her arms. liz shoves peter, and he stumbles back into the doorway.

“y/n, do something!”

you shrug. mj presses her lips into a sarcastic smile and slams the door in peter’s face, then the four of you continue as you were.

peter, ned, and harry finish the rest of star wars. they put on the next one after that, seeing as they have nothing better to do. ned and harry share the rest of the beer, which makes them sleepy. they eventually end up passing out. their heads are rested against the other’s, both snoring.

so much for guy time.

screw it, peter wants to see you, and he has one more trick up his sleeve that he knows you can’t resist.

liz is asleep on mj’s shoulder. mj is still awake, but her eyes are barely open. betty is curled up under your covers. you’re about to head to bed yourself when you hear knocking at your door. you pad over to the door and open it. not to your surprise, it’s peter.

“who is it? the perv?” mj asks through a yawn. “yup. be right back,” you say.

you leave your room and shut the door behind you. peter grins widely, too widely.

“what is it now, peter?”

“nothing. i just came to say goodnight.”

“okay, goodnight.”

you turn to go back in your room, but peter grabs you by your waist. he slides his hands down to your hips and inches his way closer to you, so close your lips are almost touching.

“could i get a goodnight kiss?”

“you don’t have to ask.”

with that, peter kisses you softly. he backs you against your door and lets his hands move lower and lower down your body. you giggle against his lips, pushing him back by his shoulders.

“nice try, tiger. but i’m going to bed.”

peter ignores you and kisses down your neck. his hands travel underneath your shirt.

“i love it when you wear my clothes, y’know. it’s so hot.”

“doesn’t take much to get you going.”

peter runs his fingers up and down your sides. the feeling of his warm hands on your bare skin sends shivers down your spine. he tugs on either end of your panties, leaving a kiss on your collarbone. his dark eyes lock with yours as he presses himself against you. you can feel him through his sweatpants, prompting that familiar ache in your core. you instinctively buck your hips.

“you either, angel.”

he’s right, you’re too worked up now to go to sleep. you need him. you roll your eyes, but give in.

“bathroom, now.”

you hurry into the bathroom and turn on the light. peter smiles in satisfaction. you pull him inside by the collar of his shirt, locking the door behind him.

#peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker writing #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

Hood Nigga Deluxe 2

Fontaine × Black Reader

Part 1

Idea: You fell underneath the warmth of a self-proclaimed hood nigga for Spooky Szn and you've got a big secret that he doesn't know and you can't tell him.

Tags: smut, betrayal, date activity, spooky szn, smoking, blood play, dark romance

You're oversleeping a Saturday morning away when the obnoxiously booming bass of a familiar song explodes from car speakers, effectively waking you up. There goes Fontaine's annoying ass subwoofers disturbing the peace. Groggy, you throw your feet to the floor and get yourself together with minimal basic hygiene and a basic ass fit.

"You aint call, my nigga?" Falling into the passenger seat, you're a little agitated and still tired.

"Something came up."

You know what that means. It's some chitty chitty bang bang hood shit that you don't wanna be looped into.

"But I've got a few hours. You up for that shit we talked about?"

You kiss your teeth, mood lifting. "Yeah nigga..."

The ride out has a flow. You gotta pass the densely packed urban areas to get to the more rural developments where there are actually trees and grass. The country road lined with tall and vivid green trees on both sides brings you great peace. You feel like a giddy child, the closer to the destination you get.

"It's a different world outside here," you sigh, taking in all the greenery as he parks in an open lot surrounded by fields.

He turns the car off along with Lil Baby. Almost immediately, he's reaching in the glove compartment, pushing aside the black and milds and going under the gun for the backwoods cigarillos and weed.

You ignore the five wads of cash banded up as he closes the compartment and starts assembling a blunt, his expert fingers wrapping quickly.

"I can't believe we're going apple picking," you smile in disbelief. "Doesn't this go against your natural programming as a self-proclaimed hood nigga?"

"I'm not the activity type if that's what you mean," he mutters.

"It is. Why you don't ever ride out to get away from the bullshit? You got a whole car."

He takes a pull, and your mouth nearly waters, knowing exactly how it feels and what it tastes like. He passes it, giving you your moment.

"I stay where I know people."

You blow your smoke as you nod, fully understanding. "Not that there's anything wrong with that... but that's why you have me to broaden your horizons. We ain't finna get turnt at an orchard, but we can have fun, forget being broke or having responsibilities for a lil while, let the magic take over."

"Magic," he echoes.

"Magic," your fingers spread and wiggle.

The orchard doesn't disappoint. There are apples EVERYWHERE. In the trees, different kinds of trees. On the ground, making it hard to find spots near the trees to walk by. They're yellow and green for the most part and beautiful. Real and natural gmo free apples. Families are scattered with kids playing in the crisp air. Fontaine gravitates to a grove of ripe red ones where he bites into one fresh from the vine. You follow suite enjoying one of the most fresh, crunchy, sweet, and juicy tasting apples you've ever had.

"I'm still confused on how you eat."

You take another big bite. "Food is a comfort. I eat it for the feeling and the taste like chewing gum, but blood is that premium. It's got the nutrients and vitamins that a growing girl needs."

"You probably need a fix right now."

"You offering?"

"Yeah. Come here," he pulls down the bulky lining of his hoodie, revealing your go-to spot.

You rest a light hand on his shoulder and squeeze as you sink your teeth into the designated area of skin, careful not to drip or spill the earthy and metalic juice of life. He's used to the impact, and you're starting to think that he likes the little nibble of pain. Getting your dose for the moment, you keep in mind the environment. Y'all are in the middle of a grove among families. Young love in the air is cute, but you can't go too far. You lick your lips clear of blood as you pull back to wipe the corners of your lips.

"You ever thought you'd be dealing blood?" You smirk and start walking, knowing damn well you're his first.

"It's not really dealing if I don't get paid."

"I offered to pay you."

"Don't nobody want ya lil dingy money."

You giggle softly and the two of you walk together with a basket, picking up and pulling pretty apples to take home.

But first, you find the stands offering apple everything.

"There are two different kinds of hot apple cider, Fontaine. Did you know there was more than one apple cider? I thought apple cider was apple cider." You get a cup of both for comparison's sake. "Why am I the guinea pig when my favorite flavor is metal... this one," you raise the left cup.

That's the one he tries as you watch to see if he likes it. He shrugs.

"At least you tried it."

Interestingly enough, he finishes it and ends up getting more. It must be growing on him the more he tastes it.

"That was fun," you exclaim, once back in the car with the apples, applesauce, apple butter, and apple juice in the back. "Would you do it again next year?"

"Hm," he sighs.

"Don't bullshit me, Fontaine."

"Yeah, I'll come back."

You smile wide in a close-lipped show of high cheeks. "Where to?"

"I got a couple.. things to take care of so I can drop you home."

"That works. Stay safe. Try not to do anything too reckless."

You settle into your bed with your eyemask and chill genre playlist on bluetooth to serenade you to sleep. You're out before you know it but wake up to your ringing cell that's charging at your head.

"Hello?" It's 5:49 AM. Who the fuck. "Fontaine?" You listen, your heart dropping. He sounds pissed beyond belief. You've never heard him like this, so animatedly aggrieved. He's usually so nonchalant. "Slow down, what are you saying?" He's in a full meltdown. "I'm coming," you promise, getting up immediately.

"Shit," you pace, "Shit shit shit. Not now." It was only a matter of time, but still. You weren't ever looking forward to addressing this. You're not ready. Still, you make your way over to the apartment he shares with his mother. The apartment door is unlocked and ajar. "Fontaine?" You look around. There's a shattered glass in the hall like it's been thrown with water or something in it.

His mother's bedroom door is wide open.

You gulp, walking nearer. He's inside, sitting on the floor against the wall staring at the lonely record player that plays the voice of his 'mother' in the center of an empty room... This is the point where he realizes she doesn't exist.

"You know something about this," he accuses suddenly, making you a little defensive. Your hackles come up.

"What are you saying?"

"You walked in here looking guilty without an ounce of confusion..."

"That doesn't mean I'm not just as confused. What's going on?"

"What's going on?" He's quietly seething, staring daggers into you.

You feel like shrinking. You feel like confessing and begging for forgiveness, but you aren't sure how much he really knows...

Until he pulls out the inch-thick instruction manual. It's the nail in the coffin. He tilts his head, like you can but the bullshit because he knows it all. "You feel like talking now?"

"Fontaine..."

He flings the manual across the room, missing you on purpose by a thin margin.

You take a deep breath. "I didn't want you to find out this way. I wanted you to live a normal life like anyone.. with dignity."

"Dignity? What dignity? You telling me I ain't fuckin real? My memories? My mama? My brother? None of that is real," he questions, his mind and soul visibly broken through the window of his eyes. "I don't exist," he wonders, moreover to himself.

It's trippy, you understand, but you could never give him the empathy and understanding he deserves because he's right.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know," you whisper, keeping your distance for his comfort and sanity.

"What am I?"

"You're Fontaine. You'll always be Fontaine. But technically, you're an AI Intimacy Partner specially designed on request... You're not the only AI IP, but you are the only Fontaine because you were made for me."

"For you?" He stares, his thoughts going wild as he puts everything together in his mind.

"You're-- what they call the hood nigga deluxe. The company that created you, set up this apartment for you based on the memories and habits they programmed you with. They said not to let you open that door," you point.

"And the blood?"

You sigh. "Customization." You had them fill him with Type O blood like a giant juice box, and it seemed funny at the time, but you didn't expect him to be so lifelike. You regularly forgot he was AI.

"So what am I, your personal blood bag?" You can hear the disgust and betrayal. It stings.

"This wasn't what I wanted. I wanted you to be happy on your own with or without me. It's why I paid so much money upfront and in insurance when I had you designed from scratch. Every detail of you was meticulous. You were built based on my ideal type and description of perfection." He even pays for himself by 'working' and paying his own rent, supporting himself.

It's no good, you see it though in his face. That's a face of hatred. He will NEVER deal with you after this, and he's mid identity crisis. You don't know WHAT he'll do, and honesty, you're a little scared about it. Not that he could really hurt you, you being immortal, but he could try, and he could do damage to himself.

You leave without a fight when he asks you to, knowing what you need to do. It wasn't included in the handbook for this very reason, but you have the company contact number in your phone contacts and a pre-agreed upon guarantee that they'll come out as soon as possible to fix things if you put in a request via their help line. That's what you do.

They finally come out 3 days later, and by that time, Fontaine is gone. You haven't heard from him, and the apartment is empty.

"Thanks for nothing. He's gone now," you grouch, pissed at their delay. They don't take it personally, of course, they don't give a fuck about your emotions.

"Not quite," they say, setting up a laptop to show you GPS points on a map. "All of our models come with an embedded homing chip that lets us know their location in case of situations such as you described. We retrieve them, wipe recent history with a gentle reset, and bring them back to you. That's what your insurance does."

You sit up, feeling relief but also kinda terrible. "You're telling me he won't remember?"

"Nope. Nothing within the past 6 months."

It's another hit in the gut. "That means he won't remember the good either or anything we did, the talks we had?" It breaks your heart. You hold all those moments special, but it'll be as if they never happened. You'll be starting over practically.

"It's a steep trade, but at least he'll be in your life again."

You wanna slap him for being so casual about it. He doesn't understand how hard it is. You grew to love Fontaine and he was falling for you in a natural and humane way. You don't want that changed, but it's already been changed. "This is hard," you whimper, wanting to cry a little bit, but you can't just leave things as they are. Fontaine is stubborn, and once he hates you, he hates you. You made him that way.

An alert says that he's been located outside of the city, and developers are seizing him.

"What do you want us to do," the rep asks, waiting on you to answer him ad he re-gathers his things to leave your home. You cover your eyes, feeling like a traitor to your own man.

"Do it. Wipe him."

For the next six hours, you wait anxiously waiting for an update. They're supposed to fix him. An update comes that night with a generic ass thank you for your business message attached through email. You visit Fontaine's apartment immediately, knocking on the door.

He opens it slowly, watching you as you stare up at him, praying and hoping...

"Fontaine?"

"What's the problem? Come in the house," he backs up, letting you in to get you our the hall. You look around subtly seeing everything cleaned up and his 'mother's' room door closed. You smell backwoods and weed and his fresh, clean scent. There's a blunt between his fingers.

"I just--I had a bad dream," you lie, pinching the extra fabric of his sleeve. "You were in it."

"You dreamin' bout me now?" There's interest there in his expression, no longer the hatred that was emanating through him like electricity. It's almost unsettling.

You approach him somewhat sideways, still feeling him out. "Fontaine, what's something you've always wanted to do on Halloween that you haven't done?"

He hesitates, confused at the sudden change in direction, but considers your question. "I'm not a Halloween nigga."

"Would you go apple picking with me," you test, looking for any sign of memory, but he looks flabbergasted.

"Apple picking?"

"Yes."

"Do I look like a nigga that go apple-picking?"

You withhold your reaction, stealing his blunt to calm your nerves. It's bittersweet that he doesn't remember. You sit on his couch and call him to sit beside you as you rest your head on his shoulder, then test your hand on his lap, going into the waistband of his striped grey sweatpants.

He gently pauses you.

"Do you want me to stop," you meet his eyes to ask.

"Nah... I don't mind. I just wanted to see what you'd do."

"Stop of course." You proceed with his consent, squeezing and rubbing his dick to encourage the blood flow. It hardens bit by bit, growing as you touch it. He leans back enjoying it while you smoke simultaneously.

"Come with me back to my place so we can do it without your mama hearing us," you whisper.

"You know what time it is?" He takes the blunt back for a quick pull.

"I don't care." You take the blunt back again from his fixed fingers to puff, leaning in close to blow gently up his nostrils. His head remains invitingly still as your lips linger inches from his, ghosting close enough for him to feel you breathing.

"How you breathe when you vampire," he whispers, legit curiosity meeting lust. You bite his bottom lip.

"Reflex. It's just something I'm used to doing. Kind of like sucking dick. I kinda just do it."

"Show me," his eyes command, but you leave him dry and hanging, standing up, ready to go.

"Come over, and I will."

"So tell me about this nightmare," Fontaine says as he parts your legs by the knees and lifts them by the ankles and calves, lowering his head to your inner thigh to kiss around your panties.

"It was enough to scare me," you sigh. "I dreamed you'd left. No text, no goodbye, just abandoned me."

"Why would I do that?"

"You'd better not," you respond, feeling the familiar motions of him going down on you. He hasn't forgotten that, thankfully. There's a ton he hasn't forgotten, and you have to look on the bright side of that. You just have to train him again, a tiny bit.

"I'm not going anywhere," he confirms.

"Then fuck me like you're not ever leaving me. Don't be fragile."

It's all you needed to say for him to up the ante. He didn't forget how to fuck. You dig your fingers into his back as he pounds into you missionary-style with your legs around his waist. It's good enough for a night where your mind isn't where it could be.. which is present.

Fontaine lays in your bed as you think, his bicep cupping your head comfortably as the big spoon.

"You've been off since you showed up at my door tonight. What's really going on," he asks suddenly.

You swallow your emotions and go for asking the question you've been building since you knocked on his door. Him flipping out was rough. You don't want that again. You need him far away from that forbidden room. It's the only way you'll have peace and go back to normal.

"I've been wanting to ask you something really big." You look up to eyeball Fontaine. He looks at ease, half sleep, but still alert. "It's a pretty big thing."

"So ask," he smirks.

It's not that simple. Nothing is that simple.

You decide to rip the bandaid off and just say it. "I want you to move in with me."

He coughs suddenly, lifting to sit up, his brow raised. "I don't know."

"I do... Ain't you cramped over there?

He nods.

" Exactly. You'd have way more space here to live and move."

"Eh.... I'll run it by my mama."

"Mama? Fontaine... Do you need her permission? Just move in with me! We'll split the rent."

He smirks, giving you the low side-eye. "I'll think about it."

"Think about it," you reiterate because if he's with you, that means he can't open that damned fantasy running bedroom door.

"I'll think about it," he says again, stern like he's done with the topic.

You sigh, knowing you have to let it go and remain ready for the worst. That emotional explosion wasn't how you saw the relationship turning. You're still hurt for him and harboring those feelings, though he doesn't remember a thing.

Or does he...

"I won't forgive you," he says suddenly, his turned turned away in the shadow of the room. "But I understand now what I am and what I'm here for."

"Fontaine," you bolt upright in bed, alone and in daylight. It's the middle of the afternoon on Sunday. You've been sleeping hard as fuck and having thee worst nightmare that Fontaine actually found out the truth you've been hiding from him all this time. Thankfully, it was only a nightmare, but it was realistic enough to truly shake you into preventative measures. You have to get him outta that apartment and with you in yours where you can protect him from what he doesn't know.

You call him immediately and he answers.

"Yeah, what's going on?"

"Fontaine, come see me when you free. I wanna ask you something, but I wanna ask you in person."

"Ard.. I'll be there sometime around 5-5:30."

"Cool," you hang up, leaving your bed for some air. That nightmare fucked you up.

The End.

@dashhoney25 @lettidarawest @soufcakmistress @ljstraightnochaser @princessstevens-blog @eye-raq @thiccdaddy-mbaku @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @hidden-treasures21 @bidibidibombaclaat @forbeautyandlife @blowmymbackout @misspooh @thotyana-in-this-hoe @purplehairgawdess @thegucciwaffle @goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @thadelightfulone @sultanabby @mysticalblackhottie @baekhyunbabybunni @fd-writes @richonne4life @goldieccentric @thehomierobbstark @capswife @blackpinup22 @harleycativy @lishabaybeee-blog @playgurlxoxo @beaut1fulone-blog @blackerthings @syndrlla97 @ladymac82 @browngirldominion @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @uzumaki-rebellion

#original #they cloned tyrone fanfiction #fontaine #fontaine they cloned tyrone #they cloned tyrone fic #black fanfiction #black fanfic writer

[moonbeamwritings]

an ice skating date with bakugou

pairing: pro-hero!katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

wc: 910

warnings: none

← prev. date

“See?” Katsuki grumbles, jerking his head in the direction of the ice as he laces up his skates. “Even those damn brats are doing it. What’re you so worried about?”

Little kids scoot along the perimeter of the ice, clad in puffy coats and cozy mittens with gap-toothed grins on their faces. With a parent’s hand in their own, they seem almost unstoppable as they skate. Maybe Katsuki’s right — if they could do it with a little bit of help, then so could you.

You start to lace up your own skates with a gentle sigh and a shy smile. “I guess you’re right.”

Katsuki moves to kneel in front of you, tying up your left skate. Piercing vermillion eyes meets yours, a sly smirk on his lips. “Of course I’m right.”

You roll your eyes, pulling your gloves down over your hands.

He taps the side of your knee to get your attention, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he tells you, “I won’t let you fall, dummy.”

Moving to stand, you reach out to weave his fingers between yours, giving them a tight squeeze. “You better not.”

The first few glides along the ice are less than graceful, to say the least. Your knees wobble as you try to find your footing, Katsuki’s hand in yours. You both almost lose your balance more than once, but as you round the first curve, neither of you has taken your first tumble.

“If you’re not careful,” he warns lowly, “you’re gonna take my damn hand off.”

“I’m sorry. Forgive me if I don’t wanna fall.”

“Well, I already told you that-”

A child whizzes by, narrowly missing Katsuki’s shoulder, and the momentum of it sends his butt to the ice. You almost stumble and fall yourself, but you manage to catch yourself at the last second.

You can’t help the giggle that breaks through the hand covering your mouth, his confident act entirely shattered now that he’s been the first to fall. And, god, if looks could kill. Through gritted teeth, Katsuki warns you, “’S not funny.”

“It is a little funny,” you reason, offering him your free hand to take. When he does, you pull him to his feet and do your best to steady him. His arms flail for a brief moment before he settles. “C’mon, big guy. Let’s keep going.”

When you pick up a rhythm again, you catch his pout out of the corner of your eye. “What? What is it?”

He grumbles, something low that he muffles behind the thick fabric of his scarf.

You lean a little closer, “What?”

“Didn’t even ask if I was okay.”

Katsuki Bakugou is a lot of things — driven, maybe a little abrasive, talented — but, he was also, without a doubt, a huge baby.

“Aww, ‘m sorry. Are you okay?”

He rolls his eyes, telling you to “just forget it,” but you don’t miss the rosy pink of his cheeks where they peek out from behind his scarf.

What began as a promise to keep you from falling, quickly becomes a mission to protect Katsuki’s ego as you desperately try to keep him steady on his feet, and you’re not doing a very good job of accomplishing it. Katsuki falls more times than you can count. No matter how firmly you grip his hands or how gently you move, there’s nothing that can halt the marriage between Katsuki’s butt and the cold, hard ice. 

All the while, you haven’t fallen. Not even once.

Sensing his mounting frustration, you haul him from the ice once more. “We’ll do one more loop, and then we’ll get some hot chocolate. How’s that sound?”

He nods resolutely, this time determined to make it around without falling. “Sure.”

So far so good — you round the first curve and then the second, and he remains firmly on his skates. It’s not until you reach the last straightaway, the door to the rink just within your grasp, that you feel it.

A slight wobble, a tiny bit of instability and suddenly you’re hitting the ice, Katsuki’s giant body falling on top of yours, squishing you beneath him. You take a moment to wince, recovering from the shock of falling (and being flattened by a giant pro-hero) before you stuff a laugh into the crook of his neck. Katsuki’s body shakes above yours, a small chuckle morphing into a cackle as your laughter encourages his own.

He cradles the back of your head in his hand. His fingers are cold where they rest against your hair. The ghost of a laugh lingers on his lips. “Who’s shitty idea was this?”

“Yours,” you pointedly remind him. “One hundred percent your idea. I’m not taking credit for this.”

Katsuki presses his freezing nose into your cheek and mumbles, “’M still blamin’ you.”

You click your tongue and roll your eyes. “Oh shut up. Get off me ya big lug. We have hot cocoa to drink.”

In the most graceful maneuver he’s managed all night, Katsuki tugs you up to your feet and leads you off the ice, a sigh of relief passing his lips as you finally make it back to less slippery ground.

Twenty minutes later, as you sit beneath a string of lights on a bench near the rink, Katsuki pulls you into a kiss that tastes like hot chocolate and whipped cream, fingers now warm as they press into your skin. When he pulls away, he can’t fight back his grin. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou imagine #mha x reader #mha imagine #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha fluff #bakugou fluff

[courtingchaos]

Life Is Good Blues

Professor Munson x Fem Reader

@carolmunson So the old man finally had something to say to me and I think you might find it a little cathartic too maybe?

Life is Good Blues

“There she is.”

You don’t even have the door all the way open before you hear his voice. Normally it’s a welcome surprise when he gets home before you but today you’re talked out. A deep breath and a millisecond pep talk to get yourself through the door without snapping at him when he’s just happy to see you.

“Did you get out early today?” You can’t hide the strain in your voice and you hope you can pass it off on full hands. Ed is already rounding the corner and reaching out for at least one fistful of bags.

“We lost power like six times today so they told us to vacate.” He loops the handles over his forearm and takes the others off you too, turning to head back into the kitchen. He hasn’t caught on yet to your sour mood or the fact that your teeth have been clenched for six solid hours. All you can muster is a little hum and a terse nod, the strain along your neck not easing up like you thought it would when you finally made it back home.

He picks out the bags with groceries in them and peers at you over his glasses when you come into the kitchen behind him. Head bowed and eyes following the wood grain of the flooring you can barely even thinking about making eye contact.

“You okay?” He doesn’t fly into worry mode like everyone else in your life would upon seeing you turn into an automaton.

Are you okay? There’s just…so much to go over. There’s the humming of your brain in the background of every thought process and the god damn job search that rolls through your every waking thought and there’s just the thought of what you need to make for dinner because you’ve just remembered you haven’t eaten a thing today. A grimace accompanied by a short, sharp tap to your forehead. “Just uh, bad brain day.” You suddenly remember you forgot to rinse off the shower after you started cleaning it this morning and those tears that have been hovering in your lash line all day are that much closer to spilling.

“You wanna talk about it?” A simple question asked simply. Ed gets the cold stuff put away and stacks all the dry on the corner of the island so he can turn to look at you, all of you, in your overstimulated glory.

“N-not really.” The tears burn and you really can’t look up at him now.

He slides along the countertop slowly and holds out his hand to you. “You want me to shut up?” He doesn’t touch, finally catching on to where you’re currently teetering. He holds his hand out like an olive branch, a peace offering for you to take so you can ask for help.

“No.” You don’t want him to, you just don’t want to talk anymore. It took you four hours to get out of bed and another four to get any kind of clothes on your body and then two more to finally drag yourself out of the house to run your errands. Food shopping and a quick run to the pharmacy and you’re effectively rendered useless by your brain trying to outsmart itself.

“How’s this sound.” He keeps his hand open but moves in closer, close enough you can feel the heat radiate off of him and suddenly nothing sounds better than letting him prop you up and guide you around. “You let me take care of you and you get to reboot your brain for the evening.” Your hand slides into his seamlessly just like your face that presses into the crook of his neck. If there’s a sob hidden there he ignores it, arms wrapping around your shoulders when you sag into his chest.

“Have you eaten today?”

“No.” You peel off your clothes that you haven’t been able to stand all day and he runs his hand under the spray of the shower head. “I just forgot.”

He doesn’t reprimand you or scoff or laugh, just hums and leans out from the glass partition. “It’s a lobster shower, I hope that’s what you wanted.” The steam rolls up to the ceiling and you can almost feel your neck starting to relax before the water has even hit it. He holds the door open for you with a flourish and a little bow and it makes you smile.

“You want me to leave you alone?”

“No.” The silence would be deafening.

“Okay.” The door clicks shut behind you and his hand pops over the top to hand you one of the rose shower melts he bought you. “I’ll be right back.”

The drone and the heat of the water lull you into something akin to peace and when Ed turns back up it only startles you a little.

“I know you should eat first but I’ll make sure you don’t drown.” The smile is evident in his voice when his hand appears over the door again, this time a wineglass half full being handed down to you. “Go easy, tiger.”

“Thank you Ed.”

“I also brought you a snack.” Another hand, this time holding a few grapes.

“Did you bring me a shower lunchable?”

“Maybe.”

You giggle at him periodically handing you fistfuls of cheese and fruit, making sure to keep your distance from the shower head. He starts talking softly about a new D&D thing he found on Kickstarter, something he thinks you might find interesting.

“It’s Halloween themed, but like D&D Halloween. I backed it, and I got the biggest tier of course, so more dice for you to find around here.”

“At least they’re pretty.”

“And Halloween themed.”

“You’ve mentioned.” You grin at him through the frosted glass and finish off your wine. He takes the glass from you and when the water cuts off he’s ready with a towel held up for you to walk into.

“You feel better?”

“A little bit.” Still quiet when you lean on him, droplets soaking into his grey t-shirt while he dries you off softly. He rubs the towel along your back and finally up to the ends of your hair to scrunch lightly and wring out any extra water.

“Look at me.”

Chin tilted up so he can see your faint smile and tired eyes. He looks so soft in the bathroom lighting, the streaks of grey in his hair glittering warmly. He didn’t put it up and the ends of his curls tickle your cheek where they begin drying, plastered to your skin.

“God you’re pretty.” He pinches your chin between his fingers when you roll your eyes and try to scoff.

“You don’t have to butter me up, Ed. I feel better.”

“I’m doing no such thing.” A finger runs down your temple and pushes back a few strands of wet hair behind your ear. That same finger glides down under the corner of your jaw and he cradles the back of your neck so he can give you kiss. Nothing hurried or tinted with anything other than his simple intent. “I just don’t think I tell you enough.”

“You tell me all the time.” It comes out in a whisper that ghosts over his lips.

“Well it’s still not enough.” Another soft press against your mouth. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Mm.”

“My pretty baby.”

God those tears burn a trail down your freshly washed face. Hotter than the steam that beat against your back, like they’ve been trapped in the tumultuous core of you all day. You didn’t want to have this breakdown but it seems it’s going to have you no matter what you wish. Ed’s voice soothes in your ear when he feels that first shudder rumble through you and he pulls you in closer.

“I’m sorry baby.”

Nothing but half formed sobs answer him while you finally let the pressure valve of the past however many weeks or months release.

“I know, I know.”

He gathers you up so you’re fully covered in the extra long towel, angling you towards the bedroom so he can sit you down on the edge of the bed. You cling to his shirt and to his arms and babble against his chest about ruining the night. You try to explain to him what the chaos in your head feels like when you slide into these moods. A blank slate for the world to see so you can have your whitecaps to yourself, the churning grey waters that try to pull you all the way down.

“Eddie I’m tired.” You hiccup when the tears finally slow. “I’m tired and I don’t know why.” You can hear the whine in your voice and it makes your skin crawl. “I don’t know if there’s enough sleep for this.”

He’s silent now when you want him to fill the void so desperately. You need him to talk about his job or his music or one of his hobbies, anything to keep you from thinking-

His slippers hit the ground with a smack that jolts you out of the dread spiral, his hands under your arms pulling you up the bed also pull you out of those crashing waves.

“I see you.” He says while he pulls the duvet up over the two of you.

“The bathroom light is still on.”

He shushes you. “I see you struggling all the time and I try so hard to let you do stuff on your own.”

“Eddie I need to do my face stuff-”

He cuts you off when he drops the bedding over your heads and yanks you in close. “And I think I’m pretty good at that.” He settles on his side of the bed and makes sure you’re anchored to him. “But you really need to understand something.”

“What.” Muffled into his chest and you can feel the short laugh rumble under your lips.

“I’m gonna help you when I can because I want to, not because I have to. I see you trying and I see you trying hard and you’re gonna have days like this.”

You huff to try and fight back against the new onslaught of tears.

“And I’m gonna hold out my hand and you’re gonna take the damn thing and let me feed you in the shower.”

“Ed, I can’t-“

“I know you can’t and that’s okay.” He hooks his leg over one of yours to tuck you even closer. “It’s okay.” His hands run over your back and calm you down so your tears only trickle instead of stream. “It’s okay.”

It’s dark under the covers, warm and a little damp only because of your hair and towel. He doesn’t mind so you don’t mind, especially when he tucks you up under his jaw like this.

“You mean it?” Still quiet when you ask. He means it like he always does but still you have to ask, have to make sure.

And he knows, of course he does. Another kiss to your hair and a whisper only for you.

“Of course I do.”

#My Work #My Fic #Eddie Munson Fic #Professor Munson

[http-tokki]

But it works, right?

~ bakugou katsuki x reader ~ tags/cw: aged up bakugou, christmas party, fluff, cute lil domestic imagine ~ wc: 610

Draft 1:

it's your sixth Christmas party in the span of three weeks and it was starting to get old. It was exciting to begin with, your first events as properly established heroes. The sparkly invitations and gifts from agencies, the excuse to get dressed up and hang out with your friends, tiny little hors d'oeuvres that didn't really do anything except keep you from getting absolutely shit-faced in front of colleagues, but as the fourth, fifth, sixth rolled around you were starting to tire of the whole thing.

"I'm not doing this anymore" Katsuki announces from the bathroom. "It getting exhausting and I don't wanna-"

You frown in sympathy, shuffling out of the walk-in and into the ensuite to join your love. " Two more and then were done" the offer doesn't go unnoticed as Bakugou frowns at the mention of more parties.

You watch his eyes slide to you, grimace turning upwards. "You look good. Who you all dressed up for, huh?"

He watches you through the mirror, eyes scanning over your body before returning to your face. Katsuki's gaze softens as he takes in your smile.

"There's this guy that I work with that's really cute and I was hoping he would make a move tonight" you sigh and lean dramatically against the counter.

"Ohh, really?" Katsuki plays along.

You nod, fingers reaching out to tug on his belt loops. "Yep, but I'm worried he won't so I might just have to settle for you again"

"You wound me to my core" Bakugou leans down to press a kiss to your forehead

Draft 2:

Getting a little too tipsy at the Christmas party and heading to the dance floor with Mina while Katsuki and Kirishima stand back and hold your drinks. You had been standing with your fiancé and friends when you heard a familiar intro.

"'Suki, wanna dance?" you look up at Katsuki who was already smiling down at you. You know he’ll say no but still want to ask, liking how he gently lets you down and guides you towards whichever friend was closest.

"Mina looks like she wants to dance" he nods his head towards your pink-haired friend, who was tapping and swaying to the beat. "plus, i like watching you" he whispers as he kisses your forehead, hand already reaching to hold your champagne.

"Okay, well if you change your mind..."Your sentence trails off as you're pulled away, hands now in Mina's as you excitedly shuffle towards the dance floor.

Katsuki enjoys standing to the side while you dance and mingle. It gives him a chance to do some recon, both within himself and the area he's in (even though he's technically off duty, Bakugou was not about to let his guard down) plus he gets to watch you smile and have fun, something you rarely get to do these days.

"They are the complete opposite of you. You know that right?" Kirishima pipes up from next to Katsuki.

The redhead bumps his arm into Bakugou's, earning a soft smile from the firey hero.

"but it works right?" Suki askes, attention shifting to his best friend.

Eijrio nods. "Its very Ying and Yang. They bring out the best in you"

Katsuki cannot stop the smile that spreads across his face at that.

The two boys watch as you and Mina dance, each song morphing into the next and as Katsuki continues to sip at your champagne, his head starts to swim.

#bakugo x reader #this was in my drafts #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo x reader

[creepy-feathers]

Just a lil' scenario I couldn't get outta my head!~

Pairing: Lee! Eyeless Jack x Ler! Reader (female)

Fic type: Romantic

Warnings: FLUFF

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"Hey, Jack?" you asked sweetly, looping an arm around his shoulders from behind and looking down at the book rested on his crossed legs.

"Hm?" he acknowledged, posture tilted as he read the words written across the pages; mainly medical-based stuff, so you couldn't even begin to decipher what they meant. Luckily, you didn't care.

"Are you ticklish?"

You expected him to react some way to the abrupt question, maybe stiffen a little bit, but he did nothing of the sort, his voice remaining quiet and unfazed. "Dunno. Am I?"

You grinned. "Are you...?" 

"Am I?"

"Are you?" To emphasize the inquiry, you skittered your fingers gently against the back of his ribs, and he flinched, barely able to contain the small laugh that almost fell from his lips.

"I—I guess that answers your question then, huh?" His tone was playful yet calm, and he didn't peel his impaired vision away from the textbook laying on his lap. 

"Ohhh, I dunno," you beamed, slowly dragging your index finger along his left side and taking great amusement in the way he tensed up. "That was a pretty subtle reaction. I think I wanna keep going 'til I get something better..."

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by his own string of giggles when your digits pressed into the area just below his armpit, and he instinctively leaned the other way, clamping his arm against his side. "O-okahay, okay," he said, rotating his head to shoot you a look. "Y-you dohon't need to do that."

"Aw, why not?" You lightly prodded his back, your smile growing wider. "Does it tickle?"

"Of course it dohoes!" He tried to evade your touch with as little effort as it required, abandoning the book to focus on the offending hands. You merely chuckled, planting an affectionate kiss to the back of his neck while fingers wormed their way under his arm. This elicited a messy gasp and he must have decided he had enough, because he twisted around and tackled you to the floor with little struggle, pinning you beneath him. "You can stop now."

This was one of the rare times that his mask wasn't concealing his features, giving you a nice view of the spirited grin on his cheeks. You bit your lip and returned the look, reaching up and squeezing his side. "Don't wanna."

He released a breathy chortle, recoiling from your touch and shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What if I kissed you instead?" You stopped your light-hearted attack, glancing away to consider his offer. 

"Well...I guess I can make an exception just once..."

He lowered himself and briefly rubbed the tip of his nose against your own before connecting your lips together, prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

The contact lasted a few seconds, and when you separated, you stared into the darkened sockets in his head without a single strike of fear. He tenderly bumped his forehead against yours, muttering, "Don't think I won't remember what you've been doing later."

"Is that a threat?" you challenged, matching his pitch a narrowing your eyes. He laughed.

"Maybe."

#eyeless jack #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack x reader #creepypasta tickle #eyeless jack tickle #ticklish eyeless jack #ticklepasta #lee jack #ler reader #scenario #creepypasta scenario #tickle scenario #t-word #tickle #tickle fic

[peakyblindersxx]

May I request a john smut in which, despite being the cocky beast that he usually is, he manages to get all gentle and intense when, after years of mutual pining, he finally makes love to ada's best friend who's younger and totally inexperienced. Idk I just need this to be fucking intense, like John suffocating his desire for ages and now finally indulging in his worst temptation and showing her what lust is... please i'll burn in hellll

a/n: first of all let me say: this killed me. like, it’s literally all i can think about. god help me. but thank you so fucking much for requesting this bc i liked it sooo much that i decided to make a mini series out of it with the help of my babe @stxdyblr-2k who was sweet enough to offer to ghostwrite on the series 🥰 and to all my other angels who requested fics, don’t worry i will get them done! just wanna give you guys the best quality work i can. my 1st priority are some tommy requests i got, as well as some michael ones after :)

love, abi xxx

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (1 of ?)

warnings: nsfw! eventual smut, slow burn, john being sexy as all hell but also soft

John couldn’t tear his eyes off of you. From the moment you walked into the Garrison, arm loosely linked with Ada’s, clad in a black lace dress that hugged you just right, he couldn’t stop staring. Even Tommy and Arthur had noticed, cracking some joke about him being pussy whipped. The words floated right over his head, his mind on one thing only. The last time he had seen you, you were barely eighteen, cheeks pink as you waved goodbye out the train window to Ada as she sobbed. Ada had always had a flair for the dramatic, but the two of you had practically been attached at the hip your entire lives. So, he consoled her, reminding her that university wasn’t forever, that you would be back soon enough. And back, you were, red-stained lips sipping at a glass of something that Ada had practically shoved in your face. You weren’t a girl anymore, black heels crossed at the ankle as you sat across the room in a booth, laughing as Ada waved her arms, telling some sort of story.

“Just fuckin’ talk to ‘er, John-boy,” Arthur’s voice cut through John’s train of thought like a sharp knife, and he focused his eyes on his two brothers sitting at the booth across from him, clouds of smoke from Tommy’s incessant smoking heavy in the air around them.

“Fuck off,” John returned as he stood, earning a chuckle from Tommy.

“That’s right,” Arthur shouted as John made his way towards the bar, rolling his eyes at his older brothers. “Make sure you show her a real good time, eh?” Arthur’s voice was soon drowned out by the crowd around John, as they parted to let him walk through. He didn’t even see them, his eyes trained on your smile. Fuck, you were pretty.

***

“So, then I fucking kicked him in the balls.” Ada’s eyes sparkled triumphantly as she recalled the time she’d incited a riot, managing to cause great injury to a certain part of a policeman’s body. She did so casually, like it was no big deal. You couldn’t control your laughter as Ada grinned, pleased that she’d been able to make you laugh. “Fuckin’ missed you, Y/N,” she professed, shooting the rest of her gin and gesturing at the bartender to “leave the fuckin’ bottle, already.”

“Missed you too,” you smiled back at her, happy to be back in Birmingham in the company of an old friend. London was beautiful, but lonely. There was something inside you that missed the dirty streets, the crowded pubs bursting with familiar faces.

“Had to come over here myself to make sure it was you,” A deep voice interrupted your reverie and you looked up to see none other than Ada’s older brother John, looking even handsomer than the last time you’d seen him, in a grey-three piece suit, a cigar hanging from his lips. You’d had the hugest crush on him growing up, and the butterflies swimming around in your stomach seemed to confirm that you still found the tallest Shelby brother irresistible.

“Hi, John,” You offered him a shy smile and scooched over as he slid into the booth next to you, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. You couldn’t help but drink in the smell of his cologne, the various drinks that Ada had encouraged you to down making you press yourself closer to him.

“M’kay, if you’re going to fuck, at least wait until I’m gone.” Ada’s voice snapped you out of it and you looked away, a pink blush staining your cheeks.

“Says the one who managed to fuck three of my best mates before you left school,” John retorted, causing Ada to roll her eyes, shooting her whiskey and pouring the three of you another glass each.

“I feel like getting drunk, and I’m not doing it alone,” Ada announced, causing both you and John to crack a smile at her forcefulness.

“Good thing we took a cab here,” you returned, before shooting your whiskey. If you were going to have to stare at John all night, you thought, you might as well be drunk doing it. Wasn’t like he was going to be staring back.

***

Ada was shitfaced, dancing in the middle of the pub. Luckily, Isaiah had stepped in as her partner, making sure her stumbling didn’t cause her to trip and fall. Unluckily for you, this left a tipsy you and John alone tucked into a booth in the corner of the room, out of view. The conversation was friendly, and you were trying your best to keep your mind off the way you could see John’s forearms practically bulging out of his suit. It wasn’t fair, you thought to yourself, for him to walk around looking like that. Especially when you knew that he was probably fucking the latest movie star, or something. It was almost impossible for you to keep your head straight, yet you managed to keep it civil. However, you couldn’t help your gaze from drifting to his lips. God, they were so pink and looked so soft, it was unfair. You couldn’t stop yourself from imagining how they’d feel on your mouth, let alone other parts of your body. Jesus, you were fucked.

A third of a bottle of whiskey later, you couldn’t help but let yourself slide closer to him, heart beating fast in your chest as you sat tucked into his side, his arm around you as you laughed at a joke he’d made, something about the stick up Tommy’s ass. Your eyes shone as they met his blue ones, his arm sliding down until his fingers were brushing against your waist, radiating heat into your skin.

“Y’know, I’d tell you how fuckin’ pretty you look tonight, but I think you already know that,” John rumbled into your ear, lips just barely brushing against your neck. Your breath hitched, and he noticed, a small grin spreading across his lips.

“You’re something else, you know that?” You shot back, a small smile threatening to take over your lips.

“M’not just sayin’ that. Couldn’t take my eyes off ‘ya, since you walked in.” John wasn’t kidding. For a second you didn’t know how to reply, staring up at him with a slight look of disbelief. The whiskey, however, had other plans, and had decided to respond for you.

“Can't keep your hands off me now." You smirked, waiting for him to escalate the moment, anticipation and liquor silencing the blaring alarm in your mind. God, you shouldn't want him as badly as you do.

"Can you blame me?" He muttered, dragging his fingers across the lace of your dress, tracing the pattern's loops absentmindedly, watching your jaw tense and lips part to take a gasping breath, your jacket having long vanished into the chaos of the pub. Your arms wound themselves around his neck, fingers twisting into his short hair. "Fucking come 'ere lass."

His strong arms lifted you onto his knee, gripping a thigh to help you balance, the friction of his rough hand against the stiff fabric pushing your dress up slightly. The need for more and the desire to know him completely intoxicated you far more than anything from a bottle; you'd never felt as though you were on fire from your drunk hookups. His fingers found the zip of your dress, tugging it down desperately, gripping the flesh of your exposed shoulder blades. A small groan erupted from your lips as you felt him chuckle below you, pressing a thumb to your lips to quieten you.

"John," you whined, pouting playfully against his thumb.

"I'll sort you out, I swear," He muttered, slipping his thumb between your lips. Instinctively, you sucked, locking eyes with him, his hand straying from your back to roughly grab your jaw, holding your gaze. "But if you're going to scream your 'ead off, we'll get caught."

"You wish you could make me scream, John-lad."

"Come off it, I could ruin you, Y/N." He stated, lifting your jaw, as though memorising the construction of your face, tone brimming with a cocky confidence only John could make attractive. "You want that?"

"More than anything." The words tumbled out of your mouth thoughtlessly, watching how his jaw tightened in response as you attempted to read his expression. He studied you for what must've only been a few seconds, but the moment passed so slowly, you could barely remember what it felt like to not be examined by his dominating blue eyed stare.

His grip guided your face to his, fingers tilting your chin so John's lips could brush against yours, before pulling you into a heated almost aggressive kiss, the straps of your dress barely grazing your shoulders, the hem of your dress bunching around your waist as he reached down your back to grab your bum in a firm squeeze. Your mouth gaped open in a gasp of pleasure, John taking the moment to run his tongue against your lips, gaining access and deepening the kiss. You were so caught up in the thrill of John's seduction that you hadn't noticed his hand suddenly pull away after moving your skimpy underwear to one side. You had instinctively ground your hips against him, he'd broken the kiss to let out a string of curses, complimenting you through his quickening breaths (“Fuckin’ wet for me already, aye?”), gripping your thigh. But as soon as he had pulled the thin silk from your thighs, the atmosphere shifted, his lip curling in frustration as his hands left your skin as though your flesh was suddenly scalding.

"John?" You prompted, resting a hand on his shoulder, noticing the dark shadows under his eyes for the first time.

"It's getting late."

"What?" Your voice sounded high and whiny, you mentally scolded yourself for sounding so needy. It was embarrassing to be rejected by the man you've admired for many years, but even worse to be openly vulnerable and so pathetic in front of your best friend's brother.

Ada.

Oh fuck.

Realisation hit you, it was either that or the unholy quantity of alcohol you'd downed which turned your stomach. You had gone too far this time. It was one thing to flirt with John and desire him from a distance, it was an absolute betrayal to have sex with him, knowing Ada's insecurity about being used to get close to her gangster brothers- sex, power and politics. You had sworn during those tearful walks around the canal that you'd never hurt her. You couldn't do that to her.

Your sudden panic must've been obvious, you tried to stand up from John's lap, stumbling slightly, only regaining balance due to a sudden arm across your back, anchoring you upright.

"No one has to know. It's our secret yeah?" He muttered into your ear, his words comforting.

You nodded silently, the reality of the situation settling in. Your hands are shaking by your sides, John catches them, locking his fingers with yours.

"It's fine, now. Nothing happened yeah?" He stood up in front of you, his muscular physique looming before you, the creases across his torso reminding you that just a few minutes ago his body was under yours, he was breathless, needing your skin against his, desperate and vulnerable. "I'll zip you up. Turn around."

His hands dropped from yours to fumble clumsily with your zip, struggling in the gloom and fog of intoxication, he eventually succeeded, the lace clinging to the curve of your hips, waist, back and chest again. You wished it was him instead that was skimming your figure but you pushed the thought away with a simple, "Thanks."

"I'll walk you home yeah?" He offered, as he straightens your skirt and his tie, allowing you to fix his crumpled shirt collar and the row of shining buttons below his throat which you'd ripped open as he whispered dirty nonsense in your ear, smirking at how you arched your back and swore back at him through your moans.

"Isaiah already said he would, it'd be better for us both that way. You know how people around here talk." You replied, glancing at the mirror on the wall of the booth to quickly smooth your tousled hair. Despite only recently returning to Small Heath, you'd already encountered the rife gossiping and quickly realised your neighbour was incapable of minding his own business. "Nobody has to know, right?"

John nodded, disappointed but appreciating your rationale and quick thinking despite your state, "Right."

"Good night, John," You said politely, ignoring the tension in his tone and the sudden soft sadness of his eyes, turning your back and walking to the door. Back to the sticky dance floor, back to Ada, Isaiah, Finn, Tokyo, back to spilling drinks, ashing cigarettes, back to noise, safety and far from the man who made your morals vanish with the same lines he uses on probably every single one of his conquests. Fuck it. You were going to enjoy it, you sped up your pace in your heels, trying to ignore your shaking legs. You tried to ignore the guilty twang in your gut when Ada screamed your name across the pub and stumbled over, dragging some lad on her arm, pressing drunken kisses to your forehead and cheeks.

You couldn't help but look back to see his shadow sloping away into the darkness of the booths closer to the dance floor, being bullied mercilessly by his brothers you assumed. You watched him fake a smirk, take the knuckles to his brow from Arthur, snap an insult back to Thomas and settle into his rightful seat. You only shifted your gaze to Ada for a moment but when you looked back up, he was staring at you, jaw tense, icy stare burning into yours, arms folded on the table, the gold chains of his sleeve garters barely glinting in the dim light. He looked away but you could see his cheeks were flushed with blood even in the glow of the oil lamps.

Pretending nothing happened was going to be impossible.

***

to be continued!

#john shelby smut #john shelby x reader #john shelby imagine #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders imagine #john shelby masterlist #peaky blinders masterlist #john shelby fluff #john shelby x y/n

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

can u do more sub harry or neville with mommy kink smut and soft dom george with innocence kink smut please? i love your writting <33

pairing: george weasley x reader 

warning(s): 18+, fingering, mentions of oral (female receiving), mentions of handjobs, innocence kink 

a/n: this was supposed to be a blurb but i just couldn’t stop. i decided to go with george because i don’t write for him as often as the others. and just a reminder that requests are still closed so if you send me anything right now it will likely get deleted. as always, enjoy! 

Kissing George was an experience you thought was like no other - not that you had much experience to go by. George was your first real boyfriend, therefore your first everything that comes along with that. 

In the weeks you had been dating, neither of you had taken it further than kissing - you because you were too nervous about your inexperience and him because he respected you too much to push anything on you too soon. 

And not that you would ever know this, but George was infinitely turned on by your innocence. Every time you blushed at his praise, every time he had to explain a dirty joke to you, every little noise you made when he was kissing you left him rock hard in his trousers. 

And tonight he’d be going out on a limb, but he was almost certain that you were ready for a little bit more. He was just waiting for his moment. 

It came quick enough. His hands were sliding up your sides, barely grazing the skin on the sides of your stomach, and your thighs clenched together fiercely. Every little thing he did turned you on, but it was all you could do in the moment to ease the ache you felt between your legs. 

He broke away from the kiss with a raised brow and a cocky smile, looking at you from where you were both laying on your sides on his bed. “Is my girl turned on?” He asked simply, not wanting to tease you too much. 

You immediately felt your skin heat up and your eyes went wide. Flustered and unsure of what to do next, you could only give him back a small nod, doing your best to maintain eye contact with him. 

He gave a small chuckle but gave you a playful smile shortly enough, easing your worries slightly. “And would you like me to help you with that?” 

You furrowed your brows just slightly, a bit confused. “How?” You asked, knowing full well he knew that you weren’t quite ready to take that step just yet. 

“You seem to like my hands. Isn’t that right, baby?” He asked teasingly, a hand slipping down to caress your bare thigh that had been hidden underneath your skirt. 

You managed to give a steadier nod than earlier, but your pulse had significantly increased at the prospect of what he was offering. 

“Open your legs for me, pretty girl,” he told you, but to your ears it sounded more like a command than anything. A command you so desperately wanted to obey. 

You turned slightly on your back and let your legs fall open, your skirt still covering his destination. 

“So good for me,” he mused, his lips trailing kisses up your neck, only making you that much more desperate. 

“Please,” you whimpered, sure you had never been this aroused in your life. 

His head popped up to reveal the shit eating grin he was wearing. “You don’t have to beg for anything tonight. We’ll get there one day,” he said, winking down at you. 

Just the thought of one day having to beg for him was enough to send you into a dizzy loop of scenarios in your head. It was enough to distract you from the way his fingers were trailing up your thighs and into your underwear. 

You gave a startled noise when you felt his finger trail up and down your slit, feeling for himself just how wet you were for him. 

“You’re fucking soaked. Is this all for me?” He asked, looking down at you in awe as his fingers explored your most sensitive spots. 

“Yes, George,” you managed to get out before a loud moan fell from your lips when his finger circled your clit. You felt a new flush creep back over your skin, never having made that sort of noise before, not even when you were alone and it was your own hand. 

“Don’t be shy. I wanna hear all your pretty little noises,” he said lowly in your ear, pulling away to watch your face. 

His fingers were skilled on your skin and careful to never leave your clit. Your orgasm built slowly, but you knew you needed more. You needed those long fingers inside of you, something you had dreamed about ever since you started dating him. 

“George,” you whined, bucking your hips into his hand. It was a silent plea for him to move his fingers lower, to put them inside of you, but he wasn’t taking the bait that easy. 

“What do you need, pretty girl? Hm? Use your words,” he told you, but once again it sounded a lot like a command. 

You couldn't seem to stop blushing as another wave of redness covered your skin at his words. You didn’t know what to say to him, but you were desperate. 

“Finger me, please,” you begged, looking up at him with imploring eyes. 

He didn’t even have to say the words to agree, the way his pupils dilated so the black overtook the blue was enough to tell you that he wanted nothing more right now. He quickly shifted so he was kneeling between your legs, lightly playing with the hem of your underwear and looking at you with a question in his eyes. When you finally gave him a brave nod, he slowly slid the fabric down your legs and tossed them off the side of the bed. 

“Open those legs for me, baby. Let me see just how needy my innocent little girl is,” he said, his hands rubbing your thighs to try and gently coax you into doing as he asked. 

Slowly, you let your legs part and exposed yourself to him. You watched him carefully as you did so and he couldn’t seem to take his eyes away from the spot between your legs. It was like watching a man go through a religious experience. 

“Look at you, baby,” he said, the awe evident in his voice. His fingers began to slowly trail up your slit again, but this time fully for the purpose of teasing you. “So puffy and red and so fucking wet. Absolutely perfect,” he mused, making your confidence go through the roof. You had never thought one man could make you feel so beautiful when you were this exposed. “Am I the first one to see you like this?” He asked, finally tearing his eyes away to look back up at you. 

He knew just as well as you did that he was, in fact, your first everything. You knew he just wanted to hear you say it. 

“Only you,” you said softly, but you could practically feel yourself shaking with anticipation.  

As if those words flipped a switch inside of him, he was plunging one finger into you slowly, your walls forced to stretch around it. He moved slowly, but it felt so good you couldn’t help but throw your head back and let out a moan. 

He kept going, finally slipped a second finger in and curled them in a way that made you see stars. A scream tore its way from your throat and your hips were moving of their own accord, fucking yourself down onto his fingers everytime he pushed inside of you. 

“Fuck yourself on my fingers. Just like that, baby. So fucking good,” he told you, his voice having dropped an octave since the last time he spoke. 

Knowing it turned him on watching you like this only sent another wave of arousal through you, making you that much wetter and bringing you that much closer to your orgasm. 

“You look so perfect right now. One of these days I’m gonna put my head between your legs and put my tongue right where my fingers are. I bet you’ll taste just as good as you look right now,” George told you, his voice just about the only thing that was keeping you in the moment. And the images he was supplying you with were making you shake with arousal. 

“Look at me,” he gave as his final command once he felt your walls begin to grip around his fingers. “Look at me when you cum.” 

You couldn’t help but obey, forcing your head to lift up from the pillow and your eyes found his. They were blown with lust, it was written clear on his face just how much he wanted you. 

Between the look in his eyes and the way he curled his fingers so perfectly, you were tipping over the edge and spiraling into the best orgasm of your life. It took everything you had in you to keep your eyes on him, and he worked you through every second of your climax until you were a shaking, panting mess on his sheets. 

He slowly pulled his fingers out of you, forcing you to whine at the sensitivity. But when he lifted his fingers up to his mouth and sucked on them, a whole new rush of arousal ran through you. It was something you had never even thought of, but watching him do it made you near desperate again. 

“I was right. You taste like heaven,” he told you when he was done, leaning over your body to catch your lips in his. You could still taste yourself on his tongue, a thought that made you shiver with need, but you quickly forced yourself to calm back down as you got lost in the kiss. 

“Did that feel good?” He asked, finally joining you in laying down once more, just as you had begun. 

“So good, George,” you told him honestly, still breathless from your orgasm and the kiss that followed. And when the idea struck you, you felt your body move for itself. You reached a hand out to gently run along his belt, your own silent desire to please him creeping up inside of you. 

“You don’t have to,” he argued gently, moving to push your hand away. 

“I want to,” you said defiantly, the confidence boost he had just given you making you feel as if you could do anything right now. But on second thought… “I just don’t know how,” you told him, looking back down at where your hands were. 

Softly, he curled a finger under your chin and lifted your head up, forcing you to look at him. “I can teach you,” he told you, and you watched as his pupils dilated at the thought. 

“Yeah?” You asked, still a little unsure. 

“Of course, pretty girl,” he said, capturing your lips with his once more, easing all of your nerves.

#harry potter #george weasley #george weasley smut #george wealsey imagine #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey drabble

[ur-jinji]

touch me

jean kirschtein x f!reader

warning: nsfw (18+)

summary: an innocent game of twister can lead to anything.

word count: 3.2k

a/n: been having severe jean brainrot recently so i had to write this. it’s a lil sloppy but it’s honest work lmfao

───────────────────────

“who the fuck brought apples to apples jr?”

“shut the fuck up, jean! it’s a fun fucking game!”

“okay but junior edition? really? you couldn’t buy the normal one?”

you were sat with your legs criss cross on the floor in front of the television in jean’s apartment, playing mario kart with connie. you twisted your head around to see what all the commotion was about, and sighed when you saw eren and jean practically foaming out the mouth as they argued. you shook her head and turned your attention back to the game.

“connie, you fucking snake. you did not just use a red shell on me as soon as i looked away!” you yelled, shoving the boy next to you roughly, hoping to mess him up. he was now in first place after sabotaging you.

“you snooze, you lose,” connie shot back before crossing the finish line right before you.

“okay, well at least i don’t play as waluigi,” you mumbled.

“what? and yoshi is any better?” he questioned.

“yeah, yoshi is better, you cuck,” you replied, throwing the remote at him as you stood up. you quickly made an escape to the kitchen before connie could retaliate. gathered around a small dining room table was armin, sasha, and mikasa playing apples to apple jr. you chuckled lightly before jean appeared beside you, who scoffed at them.

“we’re playing twister, y’all,” jean announced before hooking a finger in one of your belt loops, pulling you teasingly into his side. you yelped at the sudden movement, whipping your head to look up at him. he simply smirked before releasing you. you bumped your hip against his and walked back into the living room, where eren and connie were setting up twister.

“i call doing the spinner,” you told them, not really feeling like partipating.

“uh-uh. you’re playing,” jean’s voice said behind you. you sighed loudly.

“fine,” you replied, rolling your eyes at him.

“i bet jean just wants to see you bent-“

“watch it, jaeger,” jean abruptly interrupted eren. you didn’t really know how to react, but the possibility of jean wanting to see you in compromising positions was....interesting, to say the least. you made your way to the couch and plopped yourself down. jean followed you closely and sat beside you, throwing his arm to rest behind you on top of the cushions. you weren’t sure why, but he was always attached at your hip when you were with him, especially when you were in groups. you certainly didn’t mind.

“can i at least be in control of the spinner for the first group that goes?” you begged as everyone began to gather in the living room. you were granted permission, and the spinner was handed to you. the first group was sasha, connie, and armin. the three of them stood around the twister mat, waiting for their instruction. you couldn’t help but notice jean’s fingers grazing your shoulder with the arm thrown behind you.

“okay, connie,” you started before spinning. “right foot on blue.”

after about ten minutes, sasha and armin were battling for the win. connie got the short end of the stick after having to snake under sasha, and quickly met his twister demise. armin was completely arched backwards trying to keep two hands on red and two feet on green while sasha was in a frog-like crouch, keeping her hands and feet on every color.

“armin, left foot on red,” you announced. he sighed sadly.

“how am i suppose to do that,” he muttered before attempting, and then suddenly collapsing. the room erupted into laughter as sasha jumped to her feet.

“hah! take that, armin!” she shouted, taking in her sweet victory. “i’m next on the spinner!”

you groaned, not wanting to give it up.

“alright, who’s next?” sasha asked, taking over your position.

“i guess i’ll go to get it over with,” you replied, standing up from your place on the couch.

“i’ll go, too,” jean quickly said, following suit.

“me too,” eren said. “i just want to beat jean.”

“i’m a twister master, bro,” jean said to eren with a bit of hostility. you shook your head at the pair.

“next game night we’ll have to play ‘take a shot every time jean and eren start arguing,’” you joked, earning some chuckles and agreements. after a few moments, you stood on one side of the twister mat, with jean next to you and eren across from you two. sasha cleared her throat.

“okay, okay. eren, left hand on yellow,” sasha instructed. eren smugly bent down, placing his hand on yellow.

“y/n, left hand on red.” you moved over to the corner jean stood at, which was directly in front of red. you crouched down and put your hand on a red circle. jean was then told to put a foot on blue. after some time passed, the compromising positions you found intriguing before the game began felt like a curse. you muscles were beginning to ache, as you were completely bent down, both hands on green circles and both feet on blue. meanwhile, jean decided it was a good idea to remain in the same area as you. there was no doubt that he was enjoying the show of your ass in the air. he was getting it very easy while you and eren were struggling. he somehow kept only having to move his left foot.

“i’m in pain!” you yelled out. “sasha, hurry!”

“damn, okay! jean, right foot on blue.”

you dropped your head down, seeing his left foot on red. he now had to move to a blue circle without moving his other off of its spot, but the only possible way to do that was for him to put his foot directly next to yours, which he did. and now, his crotch was in contact with your butt. your eyes widened and your head shot up as your limbs began to shake. you felt something twitch against your ass, and suddenly you were falling to the floor.

“damnit!” you cursed, looking to eren who looked satisfied that he was one step closer to beating jean. your face felt hot, recalling the few seconds that lead up to your collapse. you slowly glanced up at jean. he had a small smirk painted on his lips, and a familiar feeling pooled in the pit of your stomach. you looked away and stood up, taking a seat in front of the couch. you covered your rosey cheeks with your hands as you watched the continuing game between the two boys. eventually, jean became the victor as the difficulty for eren was amped up. the winner fell beside you on the floor, his body turned towards you.

“impressive win, huh?” he commented, moving his knee to press against yours.

“mm-hmm,” you hummed.

“wanna stay behind and help me clean up after everyone leaves?” he offered, a hopeful glint in his eye. your mind went blank, and the feeling low in your stomach started again. you hesitantly nodded.

and about an hour or so later, you did just that. the apartment was cleared of your rowdy friends, and they had left a bit of a mess.

“i have work in the morning, so i can’t stay very long,” you told jean as he started grabbing empty red solo cups around the living room.

“did you have a good time?” he asked.

“yeah it was...fun,” you responded, nerves evident in your voice when your mind started to wander back to the game of twister. you didn’t know why you were so nervous. this wasn’t your first time alone with jean, but he was rather bold tonight. he was normally pretty bold and clingy anyway, but something was different. and you liked it.

“i’m glad you could make it,” jean said as he put the cups into a trash bag. you picked one up and tossed it to him before sitting gingerly on the couch. it takes him no time to join you.

“you’re clingy tonight,” you commented. you waited for him to throw his arm around the top of the couch, but instead his hand fell to your knee. he gave it a light squeeze. you turned your head to him, and he’s already looking at you with a soft expression.

“what, you don’t like when i’m clingy?” he questioned teasingly, leaning his shoulder into yours.

“i never said that,” you said, your volume much quieter than you intended it to be. he rested his chin on your shoulder, tilting his head slightly.

“i just couldn’t keep my hands to myself tonight,” jean uttered as his fingers started sliding up your leg, pressing on your thigh. they dipped down, gripping the inner fatty flesh. you bit back a pleased sigh. he must’ve known this was driving you crazy. just the warmth of his breath tickling your cheeks was enough to make you want to let out a moan. he really must’ve known how his touch and closeness was making you feel, because he abruptly started to lean in, closing the small gap between you. his lips met yours, and you hurriedly responded to it. his other hand came up to gently grip your jaw as the other remained in between your thighs, squeezing the flesh. his movements were needy, and hungry, and your energy was identical. his lips moved quickly against yours, and he softly tilted your head back to gain better excess, swallowing your moans. he smiled into the kiss before slipping his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around yours. after a moment, his moved out, but yours darted into his mouth. but instead of letting it explore, he pulled away slightly and wrapped his lips around your tongue, sucking it hard. you felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, an unexpected groan escaping your throat.

he leaned away and pulled you on his lap, and you swung your leg to the other side of him so that you were straddling him. you could feel a very obvious and large bulge against your core. you rolled your hips against his which immediately made him groan. his hands moved to grip your ass tightly.

“you’re so fucking amazing,” jean muttered before burying his face into your neck. he planted a few kisses before focusing on one area just below your ear.

“oh, my god,” you moaned as he started to suck on the skin, his nose tickling your earlobe. shockwaves sent throughout your body, your eyes half-lidded, high on the sensation. he pulled away eventually, his lips looking pretty and swollen after marking you.

“i have work tomorrow,” you whined, raising your hand to touch the sensitive area he had went to town on.

“i don’t think you were complaining,” he teased as his fingers began toying with the pants’ buttons. “let’s get these off.” you crawled off his lap, standing up and dancing your way out of your pants. jean leaned back, enjoying the view of you in just panties and a tshirt. you stood in front of him shyly for a moment, positioned in between his legs, which were spread wide.

jean’s hands grabbed your hips, turning you around. he firmly pulled you down to sit in between his legs, holding you tight against his chest and wrapping his arms around your front. your ass pressed firmly against his covered hard cock as he moved his hands down to your panties, gently toying with the hem. a quiet moan escaped from your lips before he slid the tips of his thumbs inside, slowly pulling down the lacy fabric. once they were cast aside on the floor, his hand found its way in between your mid thighs, pulling them apart. he shifted backwards on the cushion, pulling you with him, sitting you up straight against his chest and bending your knees to prop your legs on the couch. his hand took no time to move to your pussy. he started rubbing gentle circles on your clit. you moaned softly, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder.

“fuck,” jean whispered into your ear. you whimpered as his warm breath tickled the sensitive area. “so fucking wet for me, huh?” you nodded, your eyes half-lidded once again. his pace on your clit began to speed up, sending your back arching. he used his other arm to hold you down from squirming, his hand gripping your tit, before slipping a digit into your pussy. you moaned as his long finger fucked against your sweet spot.

“you like that? huh, baby?” he asked, and god his tone could be enough to make you cum. you nodded again, the repeated stimulation practically turning you into putty. he slipped in another finger, and you felt a climax start to creep up.

“use your words, princess,” jean ordered gently.

“yes,” you managed to croak out, squirming against his restrictive arm.

“yes what?” he pressed, quickening his pace.

“it feels so good,” you groaned, inching closer to orgasm.

“touch yourself, princess,” he told you, moving his arm from your breast to hold your hair out of your face. you quickly complied, darting your hand to massage your clit as he continued to fuck you with his fingers.

“you gonna cum for me?” he questioned, his hand falling to your jaw to turn your face to his.

“uh-huh,” you replied, staring into his light chocolate eyes.

“then cum for me, baby,” he whispered, his grip on your jaw tightening and his eye contact piercing into you. and with his command, you came undone. your eyes rolled back as you let out a soft moan, your walls pulsing around his fingers.

“fuck,” you breathed out once you came down from your high. jean removed his fingers and held them to your mouth, completely drenched in your slick. you leaned forward, wrapping your lips around them and sucking them. you pulled away with a pop! sound and fell back against his chest.

“good girl,” he smirked. “you want more?”

“mm-hmm,” you hummed lewdly. you crept off of his lap and onto the floor, positioning yourself between his legs. he peered down at you, surprised. you moved your hands to the bulged zipper of his pants, dragging it down slowly, revealing a pair of blue boxers. jean sat up, pulling his pants and boxers down to assist you, his hard cock springing out. you stared at it with wide eyes, surprised by the length and girth. a thick vein ran down the length of it. you glanced up at him as he gazed down at you with anticipation. you hesitantly took him with a gentle fist, leaning forward. precum spilled from the tip as your mouth wrapped around him. you swirled your tongue around the pink tip and looked up at him with lewd eyes. he let out a sigh and gently grabbed the top of your head, holding a fistful of your hair.

“god, i can’t wait to fuck you,” jean breathed out, watching you begin to bob your head around his dick with hollowed cheeks. the grip on your hair tightened, guiding you up and down. “fuck, y/n, you’re doing so good, baby.” he lowered your head down his shaft slowly, all the way to the base, his tip poking the back of your throat. tears stung your eyes as you tried not to gag, threatening to spill out. he held you there for a moment, loving the sight of your swollen lips around him. he finally released you, pulling your face away as you gasped for air.

“c’mere,” he said, pulling you off the floor and standing up with you. his hands found their way to the bottom of your tshirt, discarding it and leaving you in a white tshirt bra. if you had known you’d be getting fucked tonight, you would’ve worn a cuter bra, but jean certainly didn’t care. you could wear a burlap sack and he’d still want to fuck your brains out.

jean sidestepped and walked behind you, grabbing ahold of the back of knee to bend it and prop on the couch. you did so with the other knee, holding yourself up with the back cushions. he unclipped your bra and tossed it aside.

“you gonna take my cock like a good girl?” he asked, leaning forward. his hand met your cheek and tilted your head, planting his lips on yours. you nodded into the kiss and that was his cue to ready himself. he pulled away and you watched as he lined himself up with your opening. you moaned when you felt the tip tease your entrance before slowly sliding inside your slick walls. you bit back another moan and felt tears form at your waterline as his cock stretched you open. once he was balls deep, he gave you a second to adjust to his girth and placed his hands on your hips, slowly thrusting. you bit down hard on your lip. his fingers were no doubt going to leave little bruises on your hips, but you didn’t care.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” jean commented, starting to quicken his pace. “feels so fucking good.” your fingers gripped the couch cushion as his thrusts became harder and deeper. you could practically feel his cock in your stomach. his hands tightened on your hips, pulling your ass back to meet with his hips as his cock pounded the back of your walls repeatedly, sudden and staggered moans escaping your lips with every hard thrust. your neck began to ache as it was thrown back and forth, so you dropped it down to rest forward on the cushion, but jean was quick to remove a hand from your hip and grab a fistful of your hair, forcing your head back up. you arched your back, perking your ass up more, giving him more access than he needed. he fucked you into oblivion, and you quickly felt another orgasm begin to creep over you.

“‘m gonna cum,” you said, your voice sounding extra whiny.

“cum, baby,” jean cooed. “cum all over my cock.” you moaned loudly as he continued to abuse your pussy. tears stung your waterline again as it grew closer and closer, his dick slamming into your sweet spot.

“oh my god!” you shouted, a powerful climax washing over your body. your entire body shook and your walls pulsated around his cock as he rode you through your high. he moved his hand back to your hip, gripping it tightly as his thrusts soon became sloppy. he groaned and suddenly removed his cock from your pussy. he jacked himself off for a moment before releasing his warm cum onto your back. you twisted your head around to see his face. his mouth was gaped slightly, his eyebrows were scrunched, and his lustful eyes stared back into yours as he came. once he finished, he took a deep breath. you sat down on your bent knees and sighed.

“we should do this again,” jean blurted out.

“get something to clean me up and we’ll talk about it,” you teased, chuckling at his eagerness. he nodded and scurried around to find his boxers, which were in a ball a few feet away. he slid them on and you admired the view. he was built like a god.

he made his way out of the room and came back a minute later with a rag. he stood in front of you and handed it to you, opening his mouth to talk.

“so.....how would you rate your experience?”

#jinji.nsfw #anime #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x y/n #aot smut #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirschtein smut #attack on titan smut #snk #attack on titan fanfic #attack on titan fanfiction #jean x reader #jean x reader smut #jean kirsten x reader #jean kirstein smut #snk fic #aot imagines #aot fanfiction #aot fanfic #anime smut

[storiesforallfandoms]

boys are a disease ~ jennifer check;jennifer’s body

word count: 1139

request?: no

description: in which the school’s resident hot girl engages in a conversation with the outcast about how much boys suck

pairing: jennifer check x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

I was drying my hands using the shitty paper towels that the school provided when the bathroom door swung open. I glanced up a moment then did a quick double take when I realized who was stood there: the queen B herself Jennifer Check.

Jennifer was your stereotypical high school hot girl. She was a cheerleader, she had perfect skin and hair that seemed to be naturally silky no matter what. Every guy in school wanted to be with her and every girl wanted to be her. The only difference between Jennifer Check and other pretty, popular girls was that Jennifer’s best friend wasn’t a fellow hot cheerleader, but rather her polar opposite Needy Lesnicki.

I was also the polar opposite to Jennifer Check. I was your average social outcast, just trying to coast through school until I graduated and never had to see any of these assholes ever again. I figured Jennifer would’ve brushed right past me and pretend like I didn’t exist.

When she walked right up next to me and started talking, I went into a brief moment of shock.

“Boys are a fucking disease,” she proclaimed. “They don’t know how to leave a girl alone.”

Her attention was on the mirror in front of her. She was running her fingers through her already perfect hair, leaning in closer to the mirror to fix her makeup.

“Like Craig keeps fucking hounding me every time he sees me trying to ask me out on a date. You know who Craig is, right?”

It took me a moment to realize she was asking me a question. My words were still stuck in my throat, so I nodded in response instead.

“Of course you do? How can someone not know that fucking slimy twerp?” she continued. “He is, like, so not on my level to even consider hooking up with me, and he won’t fucking take no for an answer no matter how many times I say it. I saw him making a beeline for me in the hallway so I ducked in here to get away from him. No doubt he’ll be out there waiting for me when I leave.”

She glared at the door where Craig was likely stood by like a creepy stalker.

She turned her attention back to me and looked at me, expectantly. I wasn’t sure what to say. I still felt like I couldn’t even speak. Girls like Jennifer didn’t have casual, boy bashing conversations with girls like me.

“It’s cause he’s on the football team,” I finally managed, although I sounded unsure of myself as I said it.

“You’re totally right, it is,” Jennifer agreed. “I blame those stupid teen movies about cheerleaders and the quarterbacks. They make these losers think that just because they wear a varsity jacket they’re on the same level as us cheerleaders. Most of the football team are just gross, horny boys that wanna feel up your tits and fuck you for the five seconds they’ll last.”

I awkwardly shuffled. Jennifer was right, the football team definitely was not as cool as they thought they were, but the sex talk just made me feel a little awkward. It goes without saying, I had never been on the receiving end of anyone’s sexual advances, whether the feeling was mutual or not.

Jennifer noticed my tension. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve just never talked to someone popular for this long. I’m kind of waiting for things to go south.”

She was looking at me for a long time then. I figured this would be the moment she realized who I was and left in disgust for talking to a loser like me.

“Why would things go south? You seem really nice. At least, Needy always says so.”

“I’m not exactly popular.”

“Who gives a shit? Neither is Needy, but she’s my best friend.”

It’s hard to explain the social hierarchy of high school to anyone, let alone someone who flowed to the top so effortlessly. Needy wasn’t popular in the same sense that Jennifer was, but she wasn’t a complete loser. She had Jennifer - her popular best friend - and Chip - her not so popular but still cute and dorky boyfriend. Unlike Needy, I had no one. Not even a fellow outcast friend. Just...me.

Before I could explain this, the warning bell rang. Jennifer groaned and rolled her eyes. “God, I’m gonna have to face that total scuzball now.”

“I can come with you,” I offered. “Maybe he won’t corner you if you have back up.”

“Would you? It would mean so much to me.”

Her eyes were big and pleading and...beautiful. I couldn’t look away from them. With just one look, she had me wrapped around her perfectly manicured fingers. I wished to have that ability.

We stepped out of the bathroom together and, unsurprisingly, found Craig waiting. He started to advance on Jennifer, but stopped when his eyes landed on me. A confused look crossed his face, one that was mirrored by everyone who was passing by.

Jennifer looped an arm through mine and waved at Craig before dragging me down the hall towards class. I felt tense with the amount of attention I was receiving. I could almost hear the whispers about Jennifer hanging out with someone like me and I wasn’t sure how I felt about any of that.

When we reached the door, Jennifer turned to me, giving me her thousand watt smile.

“Thanks for that. It means a lot,” she said. “Maybe I’ll see you around again.”

“I’m - I’m in this class actually,” I told her.

“You are?” Okay, that one hurt a little. “That’s great! Come sit with me and Needy!”

She didn’t give me any time to respond before grabbing my arm and bringing me to the empty seat beside her.

“Hey, that’s where I sit,” Chasity said.

“Too bad bitch, find somewhere else,” Jennifer snapped. Chasity rolled her eyes and went to find a new seat.

“Hi (Y/N),” Needy said to me.

“Hi Needy.”

“Needy, you’ve really undersold (Y/N) to me,” Jennifer told her best friend. “She is extra salty.”

My brows furrowed together in confusion. “Salty?”

“It’s a compliment,” Needy assured me. “It means Jen likes you.”

“She saved me from Creepy Craig, of course I like her.”

Jennifer winked at me and I felt my face heat up with blush. The final bell rang and our teacher entered the classroom. I tried to focus on what she was saying, but I kept glancing over at Jennifer. As if feeling my gaze, she glanced over her shoulder at me and smiled.

For the first time, I didn’t see Jennifer as just the hot cheerleader that everyone fawned over. I saw the true beauty in her, something I could find myself looking at for a very long time.

#jennifer check #jennifer check imagine #jennifer check x reader #megan fox #megan fox imagine #megan fox x reader #jennifer's body #jennifer's body imagine #one shot #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[mypoisonedvine]

sleepover submission: you already know my ass is soft for bunny and mobius - and i’m curious to know what their first time was like 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

for those who don't know, bunny is the reader in my fic 'loop' so give it a read if you want the context, but since this is a prequel it isn't actually required lmao

warnings for smut (obv, with daddy kink and thigh riding) and alcohol consumption, other than that just wholesome awkwardness

Honestly, from the start you knew going out for happy hour after work was sort of a bad idea, because you knew you were agreeing to go for all the wrong reasons. The most wrong reason? Easily your crush on your boss, Mobius.

And you weren't even being subtle about it, either: not after you'd gotten a few drinks in you at least. You kept glancing at him from across the bar, just waiting for him to come talk to you but also hoping that he wouldn't because you knew if he did, you would make a fool of yourself.

"Hey," he finally greeted as he joined you, looking down at you with a little smile as you shyly stared at your drink.

"Hey," you returned.

"I have to admit, I came here with a question for you," he began. "Whaddaya keep lookin' at me for?"

You felt your cheeks warm slightly. "Oh, that? I just like your tie, I wonder where you got it."

"It's standard issue," he nodded. "You have one too."

"Right," you remembered.

"But I like that you wear the dresses instead," he smiled, reaching down to rub the hem of your sleeve for a moment, his fingers brushing against your arm. Your heart was already racing just from this. Was he flirting? You couldn't tell, but you licked your lips slightly and looked up at him again. "You could pull off the shirt and tie, if you wanted."

"Could I pull them off of you?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, and you loved the way he coughed a little and glanced away, his own cheeks getting a bit pink.

"Uh, yeah, that too," he decided as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Listen, if we left now, and we shared a cab home, would you wanna-- and this is just a hypothetical-- stop by my place?"

So, with an innocuous excuse to your fellow coworkers, you and Mobius took a car to his apartment; it was really nice, actually, not just because it was more expensive than yours but because it was also expertly decorated (if a bit minimalist).

"Cool records," you noticed as he went to get you both some more drinks.

"Thanks," he hummed, and you walked over to the shelf as your heels clicked on his tile floor.

"Do you have a favorite era?" you asked as you started to thumb through the albums, noticing lots of bands you recognized and even more that you didn't.

"Mm, tie between 1540 and 1970," he decided.

"I always thought the 1540s were underrated musically," you joked.

"Put something on, if you want," he offered. "Maybe not the 1540s stuff, though... not exactly the mood I'm going for."

"Maybe it's the mood I'm going for!" you protested, making him laugh as he sat on the couch behind you, setting two whiskey glasses on the glass table in front of him. But you ultimately decided against it, finding a Fleetwood Mac album and letting that play softly instead, seeing him nod as you walked slowly to join him on the couch.

"Nice choice," he praised, but he blinked quickly when instead of sitting beside him, you straddled his legs and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Oh," he sighed.

"Is this okay?" you asked softly.

"Yeah, more than okay," he nodded, reaching out carefully to rest his hands on your legs as if he was worried it might offend you; but the warmth of his hands on your bare skin just made you sigh in relief.

It was you that leaned in first to kiss him, but he deepened it right away, reaching up with one hand at the back of your neck as he sat up and sighed slightly against your lips. Fuck, he was a good kisser; you'd already had a bit of a thing for his lips because that damn moustache was always there drawing attention to them, and they felt better than you even imagined.

So, you really couldn't help yourself when you started to rock your hips slightly, rubbing yourself against his khakis; with your dress on, it meant only your panties protected your pussy as it started to get so much wetter than it had any right to be.

"Look at you," he cooed, smiling playfully and pulling back from the kiss to glance down at your hips as they moved. "Rubbing yourself on me like a needy little bunny."

You started to slow down, but he grabbed your hips and guided you to continue.

"No no, don't stop, it's cute," he grinned. "It suits you actually: bunny. Can I call you that?"

"Only if I can call you something," you bargained.

"My friends call me Mo--"

"Daddy," you finished instead, making his expression barely move and yet change completely. You smiled as soon as you saw the look in his eyes; Daddy's home.

He kissed you again, rough and fierce and deliciously dominating, continuing to guide you to grind on his thigh. You just went along with it, running your fingers through his hair and moaning every time your clit got stimulation, but it still wasn't enough. You hastily reached down to work his belt, and he gasped a bit as he pulled back from the kiss.

"Are we... really gonna do this?" he breathed.

"If you want to," you answered softly.

"Fuck, are you kidding? I've wanted this for ages," he laughed a little. "I just-- I wasn't sure if we should."

"Oh, we shouldn't," you agreed, "but we're going to."

"Yeah," he nodded slightly, watching enraptured as you reached into his pants. "Yeah, we are, aren't we?"

This time it was you that nodded, kissing him again as you wrapped your hand around his hard cock and pulled it out.

He seemed a bit confused when you got up and stepped back, but he smiled as you reached under your dress to shimmy out of your panties, kicking them away and starting to get back on top of him, but he stopped you: "No, take the dress off, too-- I wanna see all of you," he instructed, not especially demanding but just as dominating as he watched you with a small smirk and his hand lazily stroking his cock.

You stripped for him, realizing that he would still be fully dressed while you were naked which was something you hadn't even known would turn you on. It certainly hadn't before, but right now it made your thighs clench together instinctively.

When you straddled him again, he looked up at you with the most fascinating (and fascinated) look in his face; you guided his cock to your entrance and slowly sank down, moaning loudly at the stretch.

"Fuck," he whispered, tightening his grip on your hips as you took him all the way inside you. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you answered, though the hoarseness of your voice made it unconvincing. "It's been a while..."

"Can't imagine why," he smiled slightly, "you're such a pretty girl, everybody must want you..."

"Yeah, maybe they do, but I've only got eyes for this one guy," you explained, gripping his shoulders to balance yourself and waiting for the sting to fade so you could move. "Problem is, he's my boss."

"I bet he wants you too," Mobius nodded. "I bet he thinks about you every night, dreams about having you all to himself."

"Then he should've told me," you smiled, finally moving on top of him as his head fell back against the top of the couch.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he hissed, and you reached up to loosen his tie and unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt, reaching inside to rub his chest and collarbone under the fabric. "You... you were talking about me, right?"

"Yes," you laughed. But when you said it again, it was in an entirely different way: "yes..."

You gasped when he grabbed your waist and flipped you onto your back, pinning you to the couch and beginning to thrust quickly into you.

"Fuck!" you yelped, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him down by his tie for a sloppy and hungry kiss.

Of course, it wasn't too much later that you came, but what was really surprising was the second time that you came. And before it had even really hit you, the third made you think you might pass out before he was done with you...

"Daddy," you whimpered, eyes rolling back in your head.

"C'mon bunny, you can give me one more, right? You just look so pretty when you come on my cock," he encouraged.

"Oh fuck," you sobbed, "daddy, daddy, daddy..."

"Just let go, baby," he breathed through his teeth, "fuck, I'm close, too. Can I come inside you?"

"Please," you begged, arching your back as the first wave of a third orgasm washed over you, "oh fuck, daddy, I'm coming!"

"I know, bunny, me too," he groaned, "fuck!"

He stopped moving suddenly, your walls clenching around him still as you felt him fill you, your chest heaving with each panting breath that didn't seem to do much to actually let you catch it.

He collapsed beside you, the couch just barely big enough to fit you both as you laid there together, basking in the afterglow of what you'd just done.

"So, your friends call you Mo?" you asked, staring up at the ceiling.

"I was gonna say Moby, you interrupted me," he chuckled.

"I like Mo better," you decided.

"Yeah, me too," he nodded.

#agent mobius x reader #mobius m mobius x reader #agent mobius smut #mobius m mobius smut #saturday night sleepover

[apocalypticgargoyle]

the “we’re fake dating to make someone jealous but actually end up together trope” reminds me of drrreeeaaaammmm😇😇😇

-🧚🏻‍♀️

YES YES 🧚 ANON I LOVE UR IDEAS YES.

I also included these: WELCOME 🦀 ANON and as always, 🍭 anon I'm in love w u.

[𝐁𝐎𝐘]𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃. ♘ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 (𝟏𝟖+)

pairing: dream x reader (dre™ my beloved)

warnings: vulgar language, mentions of sex, basically that one scene from Easy A, me lowkey trying so hard not to get carried away

You took a sip of your drink; your mind racing with Clay’s words as you debated his plea. You hated the idea of pitting yourself against someone else for an envy factor and meddling in the love lives of your friends, but you knew you’d do anything for Clay. He could mention needing to kill a president and without a word, you’d be by his side. It had always been that way, so why were you so shaken by his request. Then again, you had brought it upon yourself.

“See that girl over there?” Clay asked, barely nodding toward the kitchen as he slumped down to your height so you could hear him over the pulsing music. The smell of the cologne your cousin bought him one Christmas in the hopes that he’d ask her to marry him wafted towards you. You had noticed how he had attempted to clean himself up when the two of you met at the bus stop before traveling to this shindig, but you had brushed it off, knowing it was probably for some girl’s attention.

You peered over his shoulder, seeing the kitchen packed with females. You shrugged slightly. “Yeah, which one?” You asked, raising your eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes. “As if it’s not obvious,” he mumbled sarcastically after realizing what you were talking about. His hand moved to hold your face, squishing your cheeks between his fingers as he angled your head towards one of the various women.

She looked up at the right moment, making eye contact with you and you pulled out of Clay’s grip, already knowing how idiotic the two of you looked staring at her as he blatantly was pointing her out to you. “Oh my god, she saw,” you whispered quickly and he drew in a sharp breath, the two of you freezing as if something were going to happen.

When she didn’t approach the pair of you, you went on like it hadn’t happened, Clay beginning to tell you about why he mentioned her. “We hooked up after calculus a few times,” he smugly boasted.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Why are you still in calculus? Aren’t you a jun-”

“That’s beside the point,” he added, crossing his arms. “She hasn’t texted me back lately.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, peering back over in her direction. It always shook Clay up when a girl didn’t vie for his attention. He was attractive and popular on campus, but there were always a few that would slip through his fingers. And it drove him absolutely crazy.

You wet your lips, exhaling as you thought. “Maybe it’s because you’re too available?” You spoke, thinking out loud and more to yourself than him. He tilted his head as if urging you to continue. You took a sip of your drink, also wondering what you’d meant. “Just start fooling around with another girl and she’ll come running,” you offered.

He nodded along as you spoke, leaning a hand against the wall behind you. “Wanna fool around with me?” He jested, making you snort.

“Oh come on now,” you broke, dropping your head back against the wall, nearly missing his thumb.

He sent you a cheeky expression. “No, you come on now. You suggested it!”

You lightly punched his chest as if to get him to hear you instead of just listen to you. “I didn’t mean me, idiot! Don’t you have like fifteen other people in your phone?”

His shoulders slumped. “Please! I’ve seen you charm the pants off Karl and Sapnap at the same time,” he begged. He straightened up as if he was about to reluctantly agree to something. “I’ll paint your kitchen like you’ve been asking,” he mumbled.

And that’s how you found yourself leaning against Clay’s side as the two of you talked to a group of his friends. His arm curled around your waist, fingers gliding beneath the hem of your shirt to settle against the skin of your hip. You willed yourself to think of something other than his fingers pressed against you, fighting every urge to blush at the contact.

The song switched to a stereotypical dance song and people began to move. You downed the rest of your drink to psych yourself up before eyeing the girl momentarily and standing on your toes to reach Clay’s ear. You wrapped your arm around his shoulder as you told him to dance with you, knowing she was watching the two of you with searing eyes.

You knew he was fighting to see her expression, keeping his eyes on you as you pulled him towards the mass of people by his belt loop. “This is going to be super cringey before the both of us, just pretend you like it,” you bit as you pressed your back to him.

His hands dropped to your waist, moving with you to the beat. “Maybe I will enjoy myself. Don’t be so bossy,” he chided, voice raspy and warm in your ear from talking over the music for most of the night. He was a loud guy, but he always seemed to lose his voice after a party.

You turned in his arms, his body close to yours. “Don’t get too excited,” you jested, pressing a hand to his abdomen as you kept up with him, letting him drop his head beside yours.

“Oh, bet. I’ll get so drunk and mistake you for someone else,” he mocked, his voice a welcome break as it penetrated through the heavy bass of the song.

You scoffed. “Like who? Your cousin?” You teased, making him bite back a laugh as he bit his lip. You felt a laser gaze digging into your back as his hands moved you pull your waist against him. Your hand moved to pull his face to the crook of your neck. You could see her at the new angle; glaring at you over her cup. You felt guilt twist in the pit of your stomach. You’d been at it for a few hours and you were ready to amp it up before she left without him.

“Dream, take me upstairs,” you mumbled into his ear. He pulled away from you, brows threatening to furrow at your words. “Trust me,” you gritted, slipping your hand into his and making it apparent you were looking for a room with him in tow. He was quiet as you lead the way. From where you were walking, you saw her move to inch towards the steps as if she was investigating what you were doing with him. You knew it was in bad taste to set anyone up for jealousy but Clay was your friend, and you really needed your kitchen painted.

You found an empty room, tugging him inside and locking the door. He looked at you with a red tinge to his cheeks. You weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment as if he’d been thinking about what the two of you would be doing in the room, or if it was just from the alcohol. “What now?” He asked.

You chuckled, grabbing his wrist. “Fuck me,” you stated, the words feeling weird with him on the receiving end. His eyes went wide and he awkwardly moved his hands as if he were going to touch you. You rolled your eyes, swatting away his hands before grabbing his wrist and pulling him up to stand on the bed with you after you kicked off your shoes.

You started jumping on the bed, but he just looked at you with a confused expression, making you gesture for him to copy you. He was always like that; you telling him to do something and without actually questioning, he’d go along with you.

You could hear talking outside the door and something clicked in your head. “Oh, that feels so good, Clay. Don’t stop,” you falsely moaned, glaring at him as he struggled not to laugh, the two of you jumping almost in sync as the mattress squeaked beneath your weight.

You motioned for him to add and he looked up to the ceiling, attempting to recover from everything that was happening. “You like that? Slut,” he matched your tone, making you roll your eyes and cover your mouth to hide your laugh at the degradation.

You moaned again, and he giggled quietly, moaning with you. The two of you had begun to loosen up, even timing your jumps so you could double jump and throw Clay off balance. If someone had told you a week prior that you’d be jumping on a nameless person’s bed with your best friend, pretending he was nailing you into tomorrow, you would have laughed. But it probably wouldn’t have surprised you.

The two of you slowed down, winded from the unnecessary exercise. You shrugged slightly, mimicking what you would sound like during an orgasm. It came out weak and Clay looked at you like you’d stabbed him in the chest. He mouthed, “Come on.” You rolled your eyes, wondering how you had found yourself in that position before moaning again, this time a bit too accurately.

You covered your mouth and Clay’s ears turned red as he laughed slightly. You’d been roommates with a friend of his in the past and it nearly dawned on you that he might have heard the sound from you before. You brushed the thought from your mind before it could completely sink in as you got off the bed. He plopped down on the edge of the mattress, catching his breath as you straightened your clothing, tugging your shoes back on. There was something hanging in the air between the two of you now, but you had quickly decided that you’d rather not address it.

After that night, you weren’t really sure how it had gone between Clay and the girl. You wanted to ask him about it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to after you noticed the two leaving together. You had done your job, maybe a bit too well.

In fact, the two of you had been avoiding each other since then. It wasn’t until a week later that you were finally in the same room with him at a birthday party for a mutual friend of yours. The two of you glanced at each other awkwardly before you stood beside him, nudging his arm with your own.

“So, how’d it go with that one girl?” You asked, glancing up at him, your eyes then settling on the group spread around the room talking amongst themselves.

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Uh, yeah I ended up just driving her home,” he muttered, chewing on his bottom lip. You raised an eyebrow at him. “I just… I wasn’t in the mood anymore. I don’t know…”

You nodded at his statement, deciding that it was ridiculous for you to feel so weird around him for nothing. You knew it was all in your head and he wouldn’t be walking around on eggshells if you weren’t making him. This was Clay, after all. “All that work and for what?” You joked.

He sent you a smile, his shoulders relaxing. “I mean, come on. You had to have enjoyed that-”

You cut him off. “Oh yeah, grinding on you was literally the greatest time of my life,” you quipped sarcastically.

He grinned smugly. “I mean, it was the greatest time of my life to hear you moaning my name.”

You scoffed. “Hope you recorded it,” you mumbled, making him nod in agreement. You rolled your eyes playfully as everyone moved to gather around each other. Seats quickly filled up and Clay sent you a sly grin, patting his lap.

Just to prove a point, you took his offer, making him tense up as if he wasn’t expecting you to. He sat up a bit straighter to even the two of you out, making you shift on his lap. You moved again, setting your drink on one of the nearby tables and he groaned. You froze, hoping no one had noticed his hand press into your hip.

His lips were beside your ear; breath warm and inviting. “Stop moving,” he bit, voice barely above a whisper.

Your mouth curled into a smirk. “Why? Can’t control yourself?” You jeered, making his grip tighten on you.

“Don’t tease,” he nipped, making you smile wider. You moved again, this time pulling your knee to your chest and leaning back against him. With the new movement, you could feel him harden beneath you, and for some reason, you were into it. Your escapades in the bedroom had given you a series of oddly sexual dreams about Clay. Maybe this was your chance to relieve what tension had been built between the two of you.

His other arm moved to wrap around your knee, cementing you in place. “Cut it out,” he hissed, making your eyes settle on his. You could tell by the lust-blown look in his eyes that he was already thinking about you too.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” You quizzed, your heart hammering in your chest as his eyes danced back and forth between yours, searching your face for a hint of joking.

You could feel his heart skip a beat. “Really?” He asked, waiting for you to redact your words. You nodded. “You’re serious?”

“As serious as your mom and the pool boy,” you joked, instantly lightening the mood as he rolled his eyes, leaning forward and digging his face into the crook of your neck and making you laugh. You got off his lap, moving towards the birthday boy and saying your goodbyes with the claim that you had an upset stomach so Clay was driving you home.

When the two of you finally got out of the apartment building, Clay turned to you. He spoke with a clear tone now, “This is real,” his words coming out as a question in and of itself. “You’re not fucking with me?”

You sighed, shaking your head before grabbing onto his jacket and pressing your lips against his, your body flush against him as his hands hesitantly wrapped around you. Your kiss quickly became hungry and passionate. You’d never kissed him before; usually opting to live vicariously through your friends. As your hands carded into his hair, his fingers fisted in your clothing, almost as if you would float away from him.

Clay broke away almost breathlessly, his lips moving to press against your neck. “I want you,” he groaned, making you moan in response. As he pulled you towards his car, you knew the two of you would finally be relieving some long-time festering tension.

#🦀 anon #🍭 anon #🧚🏻‍♀️ anon #dream x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x you #dreamwastaken x reader #dream x you #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x you #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken fanfic #dreamwastaken imagine #dream fluff #dream imagine

[reidsnose]

Young and Beautiful

overview: spencer and reader spend the day together and feel like little kids again

genre: fluff

a/n: ok i think this concept is so cute but i feel like i wrote it dumb LMAO but its fine i'm excited tho lmk if y'all like it at all :)

masterlist

-

the setting sun peaked through the trees as you and Spencer walked around aimlessly. it wasn't often that you had days off, let alone enough to spend together. and the city was curiously empty, the usual bustle of the day having died down by evening. most people are itching to go home on a random Wednesday night.

"i really don't like the look of those clouds y/n." Spencer warned, pointing towards a large, dark gray cloud.

"i already told you i checked the weather and they said no rain!" you countered, though you had to admit the cloud looked pretty hefty. "it will probably just pass us over."

he hummed a hesitant agreement and carried on with the conversation you two were having. you looked around as the two of you talked, taking in the peace of the moment. the light breeze, the the hum of distant cars as you neared a park, the way the sunlight sparkled in Spencer's eyes as he talked, a golden tint covering the world around you.

he watched you soaking up the beauty around you, wondering if you ever saw your own. you were truly the most beautiful person alive. inside and out. he smiled to himself as your eyes lingering on the empty playground.

"you wanna go to the playground?" he asked, your eyes lighting up.

"is that weird? like were fully adults why is that twisty slide calling my name?" you giggled.

in a surge of confidence, he grabbed your hand and started running towards the playground with you, the rouge on your cheeks masked by the flush of a quick run. when he was around you, he felt like a kid again. you did too.

you tried not to think about how your hand tingled from holding his. it was only a couple of seconds and probably meant nothing, but you couldn't shed that wonderful feeling.

you guys raced to the slide, giggling like a bunch of school kids at recess. he beat you to the twisty slide, climbing quickly to the top and sliding down head first right off the end. you followed immediately after, arms stretched in front of you like superman and landing on the floor next to him.

"God, this reminds me of making a 'best friend' every time i went to the playground as a kid," you laughed, standing up and offering him a hand.

"cant say i relate to that," he chuckled, grabbing your outstretched hand and hoisting himself off the ground, sending a surge of electricity through his veins.

"oh come on! you never met another kid at the park and you two swore to be best friends forever and then never saw each other again?"

"nope," he replied, popping the p, "i didn't go to the playground much when i was little, nor was i the most sociable kid."

"hmm..." you hummed, "well i think you need to experience that."

he chuckled, but this time it was your turn to grab his hand and lead him somewhere. you two ran to get under the jungle gym, his long legs struggling to fit underneath.

"what are we doing under here?" he laughed, grunting as he pulled on his legs so he could sit criss cross.

"you're making your first ever playground best friend." you answered simply, sticking out your pinky. "do you...state your full name.."

"Spencer Walter Reid." he laughed, looping his pinky with yours.

"do you Spencer Walter Reid pinky promise that we will be best friends forever and ever?" you asked, trying hard to keep a straight face and failing miserably.

"i do." he answered, shaking your intertwined pinkies up and down after he was met with silence.

"ok now ask me," you whispered.

"do you...state your full name.." he echoed.

"y/f/n." you giggled.

"do you y/f/n pinky promise that we will be best friends forever and ever?" he asked, stifling a smile.

"i do." you answered, pinkies still linked in front of you.

"ok now what?" he whispered.

"by the power vested in me by this playground, i now pronounce us best friends forever. we may now kiss our thumbs." you announced.

he laughed confused and you both leaned in, pecking your own thumbs on the pinky promise hand, only the distance of your linked hands between your lips.

he blurted a fact on the history of kissing, how it was used in the olden days to seal the deal. he also mentioned how all the pinky promises he's ever done never involved him kissing his thumb, you laughed and said that it must be a Vegas thing.

you two used just about every piece of playground equipment, truly feeling like little kids again. giggling and screaming and being immature, your inner children completely taking over.

a clap of thunder interrupted you two while taking turns jumping off of the swings. your eyes grew wide as you looked at each other, recalling how you swore it wasn't going to rain.

just as you opened your mouth to say it still might not rain, it started absolutely pouring. the both of you were drenched in seconds, grabbing haphazardly onto eachothers hands and breaking out into a sprint, running as fast as both of you could in the direction of Spencer's apartment (which was much closer than yours).

but he did not have the long distance endurance, and to be honest neither did you and after a few minutes of running, you guys were still about half a mile away, huffing and puffing and soaking wet.

Spencer wasn't sure if most of his breath was lost from running, or from holding onto you this long. maybe a mix of both?

"lets just walk! were soaked already so who cares!" he shouted over the pitter patter of the storm, still hand and hand with you.

"who are you and what have you done with Spencer," you laughed, lifting your joined hands above you and twirling underneath.

he only chuckled a response, this time he lifted your intertwined hands allowing you to twirl again, humming a classical piece horribly off key.

the two of you started dancing down the sidewalk, spinning and jumping and swaying and leaping and laughing til you could barely stand. his lanky limbs flying left and right as you took turns humming different styles of music, even opting for an Irish jig at one point. and all in the pouring rain.

this was arguably the most fun either of you had ever had and we all know what happens to time when you're enjoying yourself. before you knew it you guys had arrived at his apartment.

water dripped from the both of you as you ran up the stairs, slipping and sliding all over the place.

"let me give you some of my clothes to change into so you don't have to drive home all soaked," he offered, unlocking the door and beckoning you to come inside.

"thanks bestie," you giggled, suppressing a shiver as you stepped inside.

he grabbed two towels, handing you one as you followed him into his room and watched him searching his dresser for something to give you.

he gave you a pair of sweatpants and told you to pick any sweater you wanted, causing you both to turn a deep shade of red as you realized you were sharing clothes.

he grabbed some clothes for himself and went to go change in the bathroom, letting you use his bedroom for more privacy. it was always the little things he did for you that made your heart burst.

you pulled his sweater over your head, taking in the smell of him that lingered on it. you smiled to yourself as you did, realizing you're already close enough with him to recognize it.

you finished changing and walked out of his room, seeing him reading on his couch, lounging in comfy clothes.

the sight of you in his clothes left him speechless, he imagined if you two were dating this might be a common occurrence. he shook his head of the thought and stood up as you offered him a smile, grabbing your keys off of the counter.

"thank you for today Spencer, it was.." you looked up at him trying not to get lost in his eyes, "..so much fun."

"thank you for making me feel like a kid again, there aren't many people who can do that. i don't know what i would do without you" he smiled, stepping slightly closer to you.

you couldn't believe your ears, or what was about to come toppling out of your mouth. he was just being so sweet and sentimental, your brain short circuited.

"love you forever." you blurted, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

to your surprise (and delight), he stuck out his pinky, which you gladly looped with your own.

"love you more." he professed, leaning in to kiss his thumb.

him admitting this gave you an incredible rush of confidence and as you both went in to seal the deal of the pinky promise, you tightened your pinky with his and pulled your hands down, pecking his lips with your own.

it was a quick kiss but you still felt like you were on top of the world.

Spencer barely had time to process what had happened before it was already over. he couldn't believe it. the perfect kiss with the most perfect girl and he nearly missed it.

he pulled you back for one more, slightly longer kiss, just to make sure. you both smiled into it, floating around on cloud nine.

you pulled away and smiled widely at his lovesick face before giving a small wave and walking out the door, scampering down the stairs and out to your parked car.

he snapped out of his daze and ran to the window, waving goodbye to you with the worlds dopiest smile on his face. it dropped suddenly as he realized he never truly asked you out on a date.

"y/n!" he called from the window. you looked back up at him and waved, "do you wanna go out this weekend?"

you laughed before calling back at him, "its a date!"

-

-

ultra mega super cool taglist

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @spenxerslut @violetspoetic @aperrywilliams @b-a-utiful @eevee0722 @srhxpci @reidemandweep @imdefinitelyfloating @random-human-person @gurkiloni @luvspence @calm-and-doctor @ssavanessa22 @singularityjc @sydnee-kom-spacekru

#criminal minds #spencer reid #reid #spencer reid fluffy #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler #mgg #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid comfort #bau reader #bau #behavioral analysis unit #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #bau fluff #spencer reid cute

[violetlilysunshine]

He’s Not My Harry

Boyfriend Harry Holland x Actress Reader

Summary: You’re presenting at Comic Con and a fan asks you a question about your relationships with Harry and Tom.

WC: 1,550

Warnings: A little angsty maybe??? But nothing really

A/N: I’ve never been to Comic Con so I don’t really know how it works, also written before Tomdaya, so don’t at me.

REQUESTS OPEN - Or just come chat :)

MASTERLIST - JOIN MY TAGLIST

Your new show was invited to present at Comic Con this year and you were over the moon. You were already planning to go to Comic Con, since Harry would be there with Tom, but now you got to be featured as well. You hadn’t seen Harry in way too long. You and Tom had filmed together in Atlanta, becoming fast friends. After he had introduced you to Harry, you guys hit it off immediately, quickly becoming a couple.

The distance had been pretty hard on the both of you, but you were still going strong after two years. You and Harry made your relationship public just a week before Comic Con, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off each other once you reunited. You posted a casual, “Happy two years,” and a cute picture, keeping it short and sweet, mimicking Harrison and Grace. Harry on the other hand seized the opportunity and posted, “Two years. Gotcha beat Haz and Grace,” making sure to tag them both. Luckily, they found it funny and you all laughed it off.

You both had gotten more positive messages than you were expecting, but quite a bit of hate as well. You expected to get some, but didn’t really think people would be sending as much to Harry as they were. You felt really bad about it, but he reassured you over and over that he was fine. The absolute last thing you were prepared for, was how much hate he was getting because the fans were shipping you with Tom instead.

The boys got in last night and Harry called you immediately upon leaving the airport. He texted you again as they were pulling into the hotel and you bolted down the stairs. You found them at the front desk, checking in together and Harry was just taking a room key.

He turned around, spotting you standing by the staircase. His face broke into a giant smile, his eyes lighting up at your presence. You skipped across the room, jumping into his arms immediately as he dropped his bag, his other hand still holding his phone and key as he wrapped it around your waist.

“Hey, Red,” you greeted him quietly in his ear as you snuggled into his neck.

He rubbed his face deeper into your hair, “hi, darling,” he whispered back.

You pulled back slightly, arms still latched around his neck, and pulled him into a deep kiss. You were glad that you’d posted together because you wouldn’t have been able to hold back.

When you pulled away, you saw some fans taking pictures scattered across the lobby, but you weren’t all that worried about it. You’d kind of expected it, and most of their focus was on Tom anyway.

“Alright, you lot, c’mon,” Tom called, picking up his bag and heading towards the elevators.

You unwrapped from Harry, taking his camera bag over your shoulder as he grabbed his larger suitcase.

“Alright, love, so I’m in 615 with Harrison,” he told you as you waited for the elevator, “you can drop by whenever you like, alright?”

“Oh,” you answered in a small voice, smile dropping just slightly.

“What is it?” he asked gently.

“Well, I sorta thought maybe you could stay with me...”

“Oh, well, I didn’t know what you wanted to do, so I just got this one with Harrison. It’s connected to Tom’s too, but uh, I’d rather be with you if that’s what you want,” he said with a smile.

“Hey!” Harrison called turning around.

“Sorry bro, but do you really blame me?” Harry said, smirking.

“Whatever, div,” Harrison turned back around, climbing into the elevator behind Tom.

“Okay, we’re in 710,” you told him, as well as Tom and Harrison, passing Harry your second key.

“Maybe I should write the numbers on them so I don’t get ‘em mixed up,” Harry laughed.

You giggled back, looping your arm around his wrist.

~~~~~

Waking up next to Harry was your favorite thing in the world; you loved feeling his arm carelessly thrown over you and his legs tangled with yours. You loved seeing his sleepy morning smile and crazy bed head curls. You loved hearing his raspy morning voice and his grumbles as he awoke. You’d never get enough of it or him.

You rolled over this morning to find his eyes already on you; you smiled gently, bringing a hand up to push the curls off his forehead.

“Morning, baby,” he said, pulling you closer.

“Mmm, hi,” you whispered.

“Wish we could stay like this forever,” he said, leaning forward to kiss along your jawline.

You giggled as his hair brushed over your face, “unfortunately, we both have things to do.”

“Mmm yeah, stupid work,” he grunted, tucking into your neck, pressing a few kisses to your skin before mumbling, “stupid Tom.”

You laughed loudly at that, knowing he was just joking and he didn’t really think badly of his brother.

You giggled again, pulling his head up to kiss him for real. He held your kiss for a moment, before pulling away. He brushed his fingers against your skin under your shirt, just watching you for a moment. You giggled under his intense gaze.

“What time are your panels, darling?” he questioned gently.

You rattled off what you could remember before asking, “why?”

“Well I wanna come to as many as I can o’course! Maybe bring the guys with me just for fun.”

“Mmkay,” you giggled, before pulling him in for a few more slow kisses.

Before you knew it, your alarm was going off, “have to get up and get ready,” you said sadly.

“Me too. Was supposed to be at Tom’s half an hour ago,” he chuckled.

You slapped his chest lightly before rolling out of bed to get ready for the day.

He chuckled deeply, watching you fiddling around and getting your stuff together for a second before getting out of bed to do the same.

~~~~~

You weren’t really expecting anyone to bring Harry up today in your panel, but of course, three questions in, someone said something.

“Hi, um, my question is for Y/N,” the fan said timidly into the microphone.

“Hey, darling!” you cheered with a big smile, “what’s up?”

“Um, well I saw you posted a happy two years with Harry, and I was wondering why you picked him instead of Tom?”

Your face dropped instantly, lips curling down and eyes losing their sparkle. You stared blankly at the fan before asking, “are you serious?” in a low voice.

The fan just looked back at you, nodding only the slightest bit.

You took a deep breath, glancing at the ceiling before opening your mouth. You opened and closed it a few times, trying to figure out how to handle the situation.

“I know that the smart thing to do here would be to not answer that question, but I’m going to,” you breathed, “I’m going to answer it once and that’s that,” you said finally. “Let me start with this: I hate that question because it sounds like ‘why’d you settle for Harry when you could have had Tom?’” you paused, “it makes it seem like Harry is less than Tom and that is absolutely not true at all,” you took a break there, breathing deeply.

You noticed fans were beginning to chatter in the audience, pointing at the boys sitting in the front row. You noticed the look on Harry’s face and after that, all you could see was red.

“I don’t need you to point at them, guys, I know they’re there,” you spoke tenderly into the mic, chuckling a little bit so as not to scream.

You continued your answer, speaking slowly, “Tom and Harry are not one-in-the-same. They’re not interchangeable. They are two completely different people. Harry offers me things that no one else in the world ever could. He’s kind and smart and beautiful and confident and genuine and hardworking and so, so incredibly talented and one of the absolute greatest people you could ever surround yourself with,” your voice started to falter as you got choked up, almost crying from anger, “and not that Tom isn’t all of those things, but he’s not my Harry. Tom is great and one of my best friends in the world and I’m so grateful for that, but... I love Harry so much that it hurts,”

You took another break, glancing at the ceiling again to try and keep yourself from losing it, “and if anyone puts him down in front of me again, I’m absolutely going to lose my shit. So…” you trailed off, chuckling again, “so, in conclusion, they’re very different and while Tom is great, Harry is the best. Next question, please.”

You turned to face the fan on the other side of the audience, placing your mic in your lap and tossing your hair behind your shoulder. You took a deep breath, shaking off your anger, and looking at Harry in the audience again. His happy expression had returned now, his eyes brightening and a very small smile gracing his features. You gave him a tight lipped smile back mouthing, “I love you,” to him quickly.

He mouthed, “I love you more,” back, making your smile grow even wider.

TAGLIST:  @samhollandscupcake @spider-barnes @hogwartsmarvelmommy @tulipholland @harryhollandsgirlfriend @cupids-crystals @sunwardsss

#harry holland #harry holland fluff #harry holland x reader #harry holland x female reader #harry holland oneshot #harry holland fanfiction #harry holland imagine #harry holland fanfic

[bubblyhoney]

win for me

warnings: lAnGuAgE, alcohol consumption (both reader and all other characters are of age to drink), marijuana use, Making Out™️, a miniscule Flowers from 1970 reference. PSA: WHEN UR INTOXICATED AND/OR AT A PARTY, TELL UR FRIENDS WHO YOU WILL BE WITH AND WHERE YOU WILL BE AT ALL TIMES. DRINK AND PARTY SAFELY!

tags: sapnap x fem!reader

summary: a collection of moments throughout the beginning of your relationship

words: 5000

A/N: even though this isn’t my most organized or perfect fic this was so incredibly fun to write. and it’s a college!au!! one of my favs. hope you guys like!! let's pretend the pandemic doesn't exist for this one too (please wear ur masks btw)

-

Sophomore Year:

Smells like shit in here is your first thought upon entering the laundromat.

It does, in all honesty. What would you expect a place where college students wash three months of dirty clothes and comforters with vomit to smell like? Urine and just a hint of marijuana, incidentally. The door closes noisily behind you and a guy in a black baseball hat turns his head at the noise. Half of his face is hidden underneath the shadow of his scruff and he says nothing, but you still offer an obligatory polite-stranger smile. The place is pretty deserted, what for it being nearly 4 in the morning. And you’re a rare kind of customer; only a few things to wash and you brought your own detergent.

There’s an empty washer next to an old woman in an acid-trip of a parka, and you sweep past the few other patrons with your mesh bag close. The man in the hat nods at you as you pass, looking up from his phone.

Okay. Dark load in one and delicates in the other, you remind yourself. The quarters get pushed through the slot (not without dropping three and having to scramble to pick them up before they disappear between the machines) and you fill the dispensers with a flowery laundry detergent your roommates hates. Oh, and the clothes go in. Done. You relax into a cracked plastic booth around the corner of the machine, pulling a book of crosswords from your bag.

Somebody yelps halfway through filling out a five letter word (“a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep”) and you jump. Baseball Cap rips open the dryer, fumbling around and supplying a pair of gray sweatpants. You can’t help but watch. He digs through both front pockets, pulling out a wad of dollar bills. He sighs, shoves the pants back into the dryer, and starts it with a hard push.

“Gut feeling?” You ask. He looks around for a second and settles his gaze upon you. Nice eyebrows, you think.

“Yeah,” he laughs, slightly nervous. “Yeah. I wore them yesterday and just remembered I put some tip money in my pocket.” Leaning back onto the shelf behind him, he shoves his phone into his pocket and folds his arms tight to his chest.

“I feel you,” you empathize, and set down your pencil. “I washed a parking ticket with my underwear last week.”

He stutters out a laugh, nodding.

“That must’ve sucked,” he adds.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “I wasn’t going to pay it anyways, but would’ve been nice to keep it for memory’s sake.” Rubbing at your knee offhandedly, you just watch him. He’s cute. And easy to make conversation with.

“Hey, um,” he mutters and clears his throat. “Do you by chance know some guy named Karl? Tall, messy brown hair and a horrible laugh?”

You open your mouth, then close it.

“Actually—,” you start but huff out a laugh. “Yeah, he’s uh, he’s dating my roommate. Why’d you ask?”

Reaching a hand to rub at his neck, his face twists into something sheepish.

“I’ve seen you at some parties this semester. I didn’t mean to sound creepy like that— I just—yeah.” His cheeks flush pink and he looks down to the ground.

“No worries,” you say, barely even thinking. “I think I’ve seen you too. You’re in Delta Tau Delta, right?”

“Nah, nah,” he laughs. “Just got some friends in there.”

“Ah.” You nod.

The conversation falls into silence, but not uncomfortable silence. He pulls out his phone again, and you look back to the crossword in front of you. The old woman between you leaves with a humongous load of blankets and a small family leaves with a cart full of bags; now it’s just you two.

When the washer with your delicates ding you nearly jump two feet in the air. Exhaling, you set your work down and open the door.

“Shit,” you curse as two bras fall onto the tile. You reach down to get a hand on a black lace bra and hide it quickly under your elbow. A sneaker squeaks loud in the almost-empty room and you see Baseball Cap’s shoulders.

“Here.” He’s kneeling as he hands you your pink bra and you accept it, biting your lower lip.

“Thanks,” you mumbles, slightly embarrassed, and step back to shove those bras and a couple pairs of your underwear into your bag. He offers you a small smile and backs off to his own machines, humming an off-key version of Unchained Melody to himself. Your other load of laundry gets shoved right on top of your delicates.

It’s when you’re nearly out the door, bell jingling, that you think to look back.

“Hey,” you start, almost stuttering for no reason. “What’s your name?”

He turns, dark eyebrows raised.

“My—uh… My friends call me Sapnap. You can call me that too.” Rosy cheeks once again; you seem to be making him awfully nervous.

“Sapnap.” You try it in your mouth, pursing your lips. “Okay. I’ll see you around Sapnap.”

He nods, affirming your statement.

“See you around Y/N.”

It doesn’t hit you until you’re buckling your seatbelt and starting your car that you realize you didn’t tell him your name.

Perhaps he knew more about you than you thought.

Yeah, you laugh to yourself. Karl’s got a big mouth.

Junior Year:

It takes you a collective twelve minutes to go talk to him.

It’s quiet in the library, students that happen to come here to study or procrastinate few and far between the scattered tables. Your poison today is a 4 page history paper on Normandy that you’d been staring at the instructions for for days. You’d already written a bunch of, frankly, horseshit for the body, but the introduction and conclusion were throwing you for a loop.

The vibes in Ridgeback Hall were also certainly off, today more than any other day; the main help-desk was empty and everybody had to do the tedious task of locating niche textbooks themselves.

Lifting your head from the wood of the table, you squint and focus your vision on the guy in the white tee and denim jacket that had been the focus of your thoughts for minutes. He chews at the end of his pencil, mouth screwed up into a ball, and shoots daggers at the empty notebook in front of him. You’re surprised it hasn’t caught on fire yet just from his gaze.

“Sapnap!” You whisper-shout, stretching your arms across the table as if it would make him any closer. A person with purple hair jumps at your voice but turns back to their laptop. “Sapnap!” you try again, tapping two fingers on the table. His head jerks up, eyebrows furrowed and an angry expression on his face, but softens at the sight of you.

“Y/N,” he counters, equally as loud but with a smile on his face.

“What’re you doing?”

“Calculus.” He sticks his tongue out, making an awfully tortured face. You laugh and wave your fingers at him, gesturing for him to come closer. He just huffs out a sigh, stacks all his papers in one pile, and gets up. The trek over to your table is short but he takes it so slowly you wonder if he always walks like that. Like a varsity basketball player who just got off a horse.

“You’re so slow.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles and settles into a chair across from you. “It’s 2 pm, give me a break. I need a Redbull.”

“Those are bad for you, you know,” you say matter-of-factly and drop your chin onto your hand. He’s even cuter from this angle, you think briefly. He just rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, Miss I’d-like-some-coffee-with-my-sugar-and-cream,” he teases, pointing to your venti iced coffee. It’s about as pale as the color of a band-aid. You just sigh and close your eyes. “You tired?” He flips his pencil in his hand and leans back into the seat, sighing.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I haven’t slept yet today.”

“Wow, you’re dumb.” He looks scandalized. You just shrug.

“Perhaps. I don’t really know why I did it actually— just for funzies!” You raise an arm but let it drop back down. “I stayed up playing Sims.”

“Feel that. I play Minecraft with my buddies until like 2 am every night too. It’s nice,” he decides and folds his arms across his chest. Your eyes flit over to his strong arms, admiring the way his denim shirt looks around them. Thick.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” He says too loudly and it warrants a ‘shush’ from another student. He reddens, but looks back down to you. “I—why do you ask?” You shrug, eyebrows raised.

“Just wondering. You’re too cute to not have one.”

“Right,” he huffs, but his cheeks stay pink. You two fall into easy silence, his eyes trained on the notebook in front of him and yours closed peacefully. “Are you dating anyone?”

They snap open not-so-peacefully.

“Nope. You wanna submit a boyfriend application?” A smile cracks your lips and he grins back.

“Maybe,” he replies and stares at your mouth. “I have to say—,” He stretches into a yawn. “I think I’m qualified.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your eyebrow quirks. “And why are you so qualified?”

“Well, first of all, I work at Ace Hardware. That’s where cool people work.” He presses one finger into his palm. Then two. “And I have a bunch of free time because said job at Ace Hardware only likes scheduling me in the mornings. Plus, I’m hot.” He shrugs.

You nod faux-seriously, considering his list.

“Those are very good qualities, sir. I’ll have to get back to you on that.” You pause. “Okay, I’ll schedule an interview. How’s 7 pm at the Chili’s on Main? Chili’s is the designated interview place.” You wiggle your eyebrows. He just smiles at you, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was smooth.”

“Yeah, I know.” You carefully study your nails. “I’m pretty impressive.”

“Clearly,” he mutters and chuckles. “But I do like their salsa. And margaritas. We got a deal?” He holds out a large hand. You take it, squeezing tightly.

“Hell yes.”

When you see the man called Sapnap a week later, you are very obviously in a different state of mind.

Same state, same college town, but very different blood alcohol contents.

“Sappy!” You shout, raising your arms above your head with a stupid grin on your face. He turns, that familiar look of surprise evident in his expression.

“Y/N,” he laughs and approaches your group of friends in the kitchen. It’s Greek Wedding night at Delta Tau Delta, and you assume Sapnap came to support Delta’s “groom” Alex. You’d gotten uncharacteristically drunk, trading air for sangria, and you were now in the incredible stage where everyone was both your friend and your favorite person.

Throwing an arm around his shoulders, you mash your face into his bicep and giggle.

“Missed you so much,” you try to manage out of your mouth, but it comes out slurred and stuttered. “So much.” You’d gone to Chili’s two days before and promised another ‘interview’ in the next few days, but it felt like two months away from your beloved. Beloved friend, that is. Only one date.

“Yeah?” He places a hesitant hand on your back and nudges you into a standing position. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Oh, shhhh,” you mumble and close your eyes. “Only— a lot.” Blinking them back open, you zero your gaze in on a bottle of Ciroc half-empty and looking very tempting on the kitchen island across from where you’re leaned up against the kitchen sink. He catches your gaze and steps in front of you, pleasant face filling your vision. You gasp.

“You are so cute.” Sliding your palms up onto his face, you hold his scruffy cheeks in your hands and smile all dopey at him.

“Is that your brain or the alcohol telling you that?”

“Uh,” you swallow. “Both. And my heart.”

He just shakes his head and his chest moves with a heavy laugh.

“Glad to hear it.”

“Are you having fun?” You ask, all concerned and furrowed eyebrows. You look like you’re genuinely interested and worried about if he’s having a good time or not, and it makes his expression melt.

“I’m having lots of fun,” he passes over his shoulder as he flips on the tap and fills a red solo cup with water. “In fact, I’m gonna have a nice, cold glass of water right now.” He shakes it like an owner offering their dog a treat.

You eye the cup in his hand, having half a thought that this might be some sort of backwards psychology move. The other half wins.

“That sounds so good right now— can I drink some?” Your eyebrows pull together and your bottom lip drops into a pout. It makes him blink for a second. He remembers the little game you’re playing and just hands it over, smug. You gulp it down quickly and crush the empty plastic into your palm with an exaggerated exhale. “Hit the spot,” you sigh, and pat your stomach fondly.

“You hungry?” Sapnap asks you as he steadies you with two hands on your shoulders. Something pops into your head at his words: a set of two McChickens and an Oreo milkshake.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, and mirror him by placing your hands on his shoulders. “Can we go to McDonald’s?”

He just shakes his head, grin wide on his lips, and shrugs. Perfect teeth, you think.

“I haven’t drank anything, so I’m good to drive.” He pulls his keys from his pocket. “I know you’re smashed right now so—do you feel safe with me?” The question falls from his mouth and you truly consider it, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Yeah. I’ll take this just in case,” you say, and take a large dinner fork from the counter next to you. It has some red liquid on it that you brush off onto the fabric of your jeans.

“That’s actually gross.”

“Yeah.” You grip it tighter in your head. “But it’ll do the job if you try any shit. I’ll put this in your eyeball.” Brandishing it, a smile stretches onto your mouth. He just shakes his head and heads for the back door, jerking a hand in your direction to get you to follow him.

The cool night air explodes on your face when you step onto the porch and it makes you blink rapidly. Sapnap is right at your side, offering a forearm as you slowly make your way down the two back porch steps. A tall blonde smoking half of a blunt makes a grunt noise as you two pass and your knight-in-shining armor looks up.

“Gonna go get some food. Want anything?” Sapnap stops on the rocky path to the sidewalk, tilted up to hear the blonde’s response. The other guy shakes his head but nods to you in passing.

“I’ll tell her friends where she went,” says the blonde, and disappears through the sliding glass doors.

Your hand falls from his forearm to his hand and grasps it tightly, swinging back and forth as you stumble to his car. You flash him a grin that he just chuckles at.

“Watch your step,” he warns as you yank on the handle of the passenger door and nearly fall off of the curb.

“I’m fine,” you huff, and scramble to get yourself upright into the seat and buckled. He closes your door and jogs to the driver’s seat, climbing in and starting the engine quicker than your head comprehends.

The small space fills with the sound of Letters to Cleo as he’s maneuvering out of his parking spot and he slaps a hand at the stereo button almost immediately. His cheeks redden as he glances at you once.

“I love Letters to Cleo,” you admit, and switch it back on. Ah, Co-Pilot. A classic. “Be my co-pilot!” You sing, loud and sharp. He shakes his head but huffs out a reluctant laugh.

“My older sister loved them. Bit old for my taste, but—you know. Can’t deny that I love a little bit of 90’s angst.”

“Absolutely,” you nod vigorously and pick at your nail. “Oh!” The fork magically reappears at your side and you grab at it. “For my McChickens.”

“And for me,” he adds.

“Yup. You too.” But you drop it onto the seat and lean forward, fumbling with the volume dial until you feel the lead singer’s voice thumping into your heart. “I love this lady!” You shout and rock your head to the beat.

Shaking his head, his shoulders move in an easy laugh. The drive-thru line is kind of busy for 2 am, he notes, pulling in right behind a navy BMW sedan. But it moves quickly, especially when you’re moving in your seat, scream-singing the lyrics to I Want You To Want Me.

“Yeah,” he says, loud into the mic. “Two.”

“Alright.” The voice reports from the speaker, a background clicking joining their bored tone. “Two McChickens, a double cheeseburger—ketchup and pickle only— , a medium fry, and an Oreo McFlurry. Anything else, sir?”

Sapnap chews on his lip, and glances at you. You just give an encouraging thumbs up.

“That’ll be all,” he reports.

“Second window, and your total is $9.67.”

He barely has time to call a “thank you so much!” before the line ends with a click. Rude.

“Jesus Christ,” you moan the second you sink your teeth into your first sandwich.

“Agreed,” he mumbles and pushes as much cheeseburger he can fit into his mouth.

“This,” you start, swallowing. “is the sexiest thing I’ve encountered in all of my years. I thank all higher powers when I consume McChickens…” Trailing off for dramatic effect, you stare down the sandwich before mimicking a dinosaur war cry and practically shoving it down your throat. He just nods in agreement.

“It’s so nice out tonight,” Sapnap comments, swinging a look out his rolled-down window. He parked right in front of the Campus Quad, large bubbling fountain the show to your dinner. And some geese fighting each other for half a rotting hot dog.

“Mhm.” You crumple up your wrapper trash and toss it into the empty paper bag. “Could totally go for a swim.”

He turns and gives you a look. You look right back.

“Should we?” It’s barely a question.

“Um, hell yes,” is all it takes for you to say before you’re clambering out of the car and starting for the fountain. He follows closely after, jogging to catch up with your borderline track-star sprints.

“Wait up!” He calls as you reach the border of the fountain.

“Ugh,” you sigh, impatient. “Hurry up.”

“Mouthy,” he grumbles before kicking off his shoes and bending to fold his pants up over his knees. You just climb straight in and brave the cold.

Squealing, you hop from one foot to the other, shoulders tight as you get used to the freezing water. He laughs and climbs in right beside you.

“Shit,” he curses, and shivers. “This sucks.”

“You suck,” you quip right back and splash around. He stares, disgusted, at the water soaking up your jeans all the way up to your knees.

“You’re gross for wearing jeans in a fountain. That’s worse than wet socks.” He starts to move around as feeling comes back into his toes.

“What, would you prefer me taking my pants off?” A sassy look paints your face and he rolls his eyes.

“No, but you could’ve folded them up like a normal person.”

“I think you forget,” you start, and splash a palmful of water his way. “I’m quirky.”

He gasps, face twisting as the water hits his thighs.

“You’re dead.”

If campus police were patrolling the Quad right now, they’d see two college juniors wading around in a fountain, water up to their knees, having a competition to see who can inflict the most damage. He won, it seems, because your shirt is drenched all the way up to your ribs.

“Okay!” You shout, hands spread to brace yourself. The water in his palm falls. “I’m cold and I want my other McChicken.”

“Fine,” he sighs, and with some difficulty manages to get out of the fountain and back into his shoes. You just make your way back over to his car barefoot, braving the mulch and poorly-sanded concrete.

You both finish your food quickly, discussing menial things like how fast food restaurants always skimp on the pickles and how it’s truly a disservice to the world that so many people don’t know it’s Biggie singing the song Kat dances on the table to in the 1999 classic 10 Things I Hate About You.

When Sapnap pulls up to your house, he shifts the car into park and lets loose a heavy sigh. You whip around, hand on your buckle, and sport a very confused look on your face.

“I’m tired,” is all he says. Head falling onto the seat, he rolls over to give you a half-lidded look. You nod empathetically and climb very carefully out of his passenger seat. Your drunk muscles haven't caught up to your mainly sober brain, which is impairing your ability to look like a functioning human being.

“Thank you for tonight,” you chirp, smiling in at him with your arms folded on the open window sill. The half-drank Oreo McFlurry is lukewarm in your hand. He stares at your flushed lips.

“Anytime you want a drunk McChicken let me know.” He winks. “I have a gift card.”

“You spoil me,” you coo, and step up onto the sidewalk. “I’ll see you sometime soon, yeah?”

He nods, pursed lips fighting a grin.

Cute, you both think at the same time.

Sometime soon, somehow, means the very next day.

It’s breezy yet uncharacteristically hot out, and certainly way too bright for a hungover Y/N.

You’re sat on the porch swing, nursing a hot decaf coffee with lots of sugar and cream. Sunglasses sit comfortably on your nose, but you still have to squint. The pills you took have yet to kick in, so all you have to do is wait and try not to vomit into your mug. Suddenly, your phone lights up and buzzes to life. You press the green button and lift to your ear.

“What do you want?” Your voice is awfully froggy, you realize, and clear your throat.

“Good morning to you too.” Sapnap’s voice rings clear yet husky into your ear. The corners of your lips twitch up into a smile. God, you’re whipped just for the sound of his voice.

“It is definitely not a good morning,” you grumble and switch him into speaker phone. You drop the phone into your lap and stretch out further on the swing.

“Good morning for me,” he chirps cheerfully. “Take anything for the headache?”

“Yes,” you report, sounding like a pouting child and rubbing two fingers into your temple. “Some idiot fed me ice cream last night so this morning I woke up having to both shit and throw up.”

“Aww,” he sympathizes, sounding way too entertained. “That sounds like a you problem.” You stuck out your tongue, but upon realizing he can’t see it, make a ‘hmph’ noise into the mic. “Anyways. I called to see if you wanted to go get breakfast with me. Waffle House, specifically.” You make a face but lift yourself up off the swing, wincing.

“I saw a rat eat an entire piece of french toast there once. But—sure. I’ll pay.” He starts to whine, but you scoff. “Let me love you, bitch. You pay for my McDonald’s and I pay for your pancakes. Easy trade.”

“Whatever. See you in five.” He hangs up right as you twist the front door open and drop your phone onto the couch.

“Who’re you talking to?” comes from the kitchen and you jump, pressing a hand to your chest. A shirtless Karl enters the living room with a bowl of fruit loops in his hand.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, and duck into the hall closet for your pair of dirty tennis shoes. “I was talking to Sapnap.”

“Oh,” he says around his mouthful of cereal with a grin. “You guys dating yet?”

You pass him a weird look, bending to tie your shoes.

“Gimme like two weeks. I’ll have him at my beck and call,” you laugh and collapse back into the couch.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He quirks an eyebrow and exits stage left into your roommate’s room.

The few minutes it takes for Sapnap to come to your house are short but filled with contemplation. Do you really want to date him? He’s certainly cute enough. Nice enough. And smart enough. He seems to like you too—

A honk interrupts your thoughts. Always having to be obnoxious, huh?

“You’re annoying,” you mumble as you buckle your seatbelt. He just shrugs, tiny smile tugging his lips, and shifts into drive. The short trip to Waffle House proves more quiet than lively. He seems awake, actually, so you attribute the silence to your tumultuous thoughts. The music is nice, though. Bikini Kill is perfect for 10 am.

After you two order (three chocolate chip pancakes for him and two regular waffles with a side of hashbrowns for you), he finally breaks the silence.

“Hey, are we dating?”

You pause with your lip on the rim of your orange juice. Your gaze falls from his lips to his fingers wrapped around the coffee mug. Two silver rings adorn both his middle fingers and they glint underneath the fluorescent lights.

“Do you wanna?” You squint back up at him. The tips of his ears flush pink.

“I-uh… Yeah. Yes,” he says simply. You try to hide a smile, but realize there’s no point.

“Okay.” You take a long drink of your orange juice. “I really like you. A lot. A surprising amount, actually; I haven’t really dated seriously since highschool.”

He nods, shuffling his feet on the tile. What else does he have to be nervous about? you wonder.

“I’ve… kindasortamaybelikedyousincesophmoreyear,” he mumbles and you swallow.

“Huh?” Leaning forward, you set your glass down.

“Um,” he starts but doesn’t finish.

“Did you say you’ve liked me since sophomore year?”

“...Maybe.” His coffee becomes the most interesting thing in the world, apparently. “Do you remember that one time during the Summer Carnival where Karl lost his phone?”

“Uh—yes! Yeah, actually. I do remember that. He found it in the porta-potty. What about it?” The waitress sets down both your plates in front of you and you offer her a smile in thanks before she trundles off to the drink station. You pick up your fork and wait for him to continue.

“I left two hours early because you invited Michael from your computer science class.” You pause around your mouthful of potato and he just stares back, trying not to grin. “Yeah. I thought you were hot and left early because you brought another guy.”

“Michael is gay,” you say slowly.

“Yup.” He nods and shoves a forkful of pancake into his mouth. “Isn’t that so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you tease but your cheeks blush pink.

“Anyways. Now I’m dating you, so. Win for me.”

“Ditto,” you murmur, and manage to fit half of your first waffle into your mouth. “This is the easiest it’s ever been to start dating someone.”

“It’s ‘cause we’re cool, I’m pretty sure,” comes from a mouthful of pancake.

“That’s facts.”

The rest of Pancake House is bustling, a few families with young kids and some other hungover college students scarfing down similar breakfast foods and confections. You two barely give any other customers the time of day, too wrapped up in conversation and each other. The waitress gets a heavy tip after an hour and a half of struggling to swallow dough soaked in syrup and chocolate.

Sapnap walks you to your door after breakfast, hand on your waist and pressed to your side. It feels good. Right.

“I’ll see you Wednesday right?” You ask, turning to him with hopeful eyes. How could he resist?

“Definitely. Wouldn’t miss Game Night for the world— I can’t wait to beat your ass at Uno.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You murmur but you’re already slinging an arm around his shoulder and bringing his mouth down to yours.

You taste like sugar, he thinks. His hands find the small of your back easily, pressing you further forward into him. You hum at that, tracking a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair to grip it between your fingers.

He smells both musky and sweet and cool at the same time: heaven. One of his hands slides up to grip at your neck, thumb rubbing at your jaw, and you make a pleased noise into his mouth. There it is.

“Y/N!” Shrieks from inside your house and you jump, pulling away from Sapnap with a smack.

“What?” You yell back, irritated, and he just laughs as he dips to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Stop tonguing your boyfriend and come help me with my photography project.”

“God damn it,” you sigh and drop your hands. His slide down to just rest on your hips, comfortable. “I have to go.” You're annoyed, that’s for sure, and he prays you aren’t too mean to your roommate.

“Alright.” He dips for a quick kiss one last time. Okay, two more times. Maybe three. But he pulls away, grinning. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

And then he’s stepping off your porch, walking to his car with his hands in his pockets. You watch his back fondly.

God, boyfriend. He’s your boyfriend. Boynap. Sapfriend. You can’t decide on a name, but all sounds perfect.

Perfectly him.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D comments = welcome!

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