Summary: It’s a hot summer day and your boyfriends have an unorthodox method of trying to keep you cool.
Genre: smut, pure smutty threesome, goodness, Poly!yoonseok
Warnings: graphic depictions of sex, dirty talk, ice play
The sun was already shining high in the sky when your eyes fluttered open. The overwhelming heat of the day had your shirt soaked to your skin. You groaned, reaching over to chug the glass of water on the table next to you. But the room temperature water wasn’t enough to satisfy your thirst. “It’s so fucking hot.” you mumbled as you slid off your mattress. The sheets were crumpled in a pile on the floor, somehow the 3 of you managed to kick them off the bed in your sleep.
You padded down the hallway and the familiar sounds of your boyfriends arguing rang through your ears. Yoongi and Hoseok were on opposite sides of the spectrum. Fire and ice. Water and oil. But there was something about you that brought the two of them together.
Hoseok’s eyes immediately fell onto yours as you entered the living room, “Tell Yoongi you want to go to the beach today. He’s being a lazy ass and won’t let us go.”
You chuckled, “The beach does sound nice, Hobi. But it’s probably going to be packed.” you squeezed his shoulder gently as you made your way to the fridge and out of the corner of your eye you could see him pouting. Clearly not happy that you were siding with Yoongi in this democratic household.
“See, I told you she wouldn’t want to go.” Yoongi teased as he laid back down on the floor, a gummy smile spread across his glistening face. He stared at you with mischief in his eyes, but the thought of intertwining limbs in this heat sounded like the worst possible idea, no matter how hard he made you cum.
You opened the door to the freezer, finding sweet relief in the blast of cool air rushing towards your skin. It was days like this when you cursed your boyfriends for letting them talk you into this place. Your apartment was beautiful, and you loved it, but it didn’t have A/C. So every summer the three of you wandered across the apartment in various states of undress, hoping that the lack of clothing encasing your skin will offer relief.
Positioning yourself on your bed, flipping through the multicolored pages of the magazine in your hands, you anticipated Peter’s arrival. Any minute now, the Spider-man himself would reach your apartment bruised and exhausted, ready to be patched up after a night of crime-fighting. Never minding the late hour, you enjoyed taking care of his injuries; despite the times he became stubborn with you about resting and taking time off from heavy duty criminals.
As expected, you heard Peter knock on your window and call out your name. You opened the panel to let in your disheveled, unmasked boyfriend, who plastered an innocent smile on his face to diffuse any of your worries as he gave you a peck on the lips. “Hey Y/N! I missed you.” He greeted lovingly, welcoming himself into your room and proceeding straight to your bathroom almost as if you both knew the drill already.
You followed him, closing the door behind you and taking ice cubes from the kitchen along the way. “I’m pretty bruised up today,” Peter frowned and started stripping his suit dropping it until it hugged around his waist, revealing his bruised torso and scratched biceps. He took a stool while you grabbed your first aid kid, placing it on the sink beside with the bag of ice cubes.
KIC Viktor and Yuuri meeting TBE Viktor and Yuuri? XD if only there was a way for them to meet in that fic where all the Yuuris and Viktors met each other XDD
ohmygod. you heckin kNOW. yall heckin know i love fic crossovers. bih. alright i got @victorsporosya‘s blessing and some of these were contributed by her and this is only part one [clears throat] we bring you…
the couture experience (part one)
in which victor and yuuri agree to meet in the hotel bar because “let’s take a break and wind down a little before we meet with the luxottica reps tomorrow, shall we?” victor had suggested, much to yuuri’s disbelief. (victor? winding down a little?)
and in which victor and yuuri agree to meet in the hotel bar because… that’s what they do
aka kic vicyuu and tbe vicyuu have plans to meet, but instead encounter they’re other-universe partners
“Your hair is down,” is the first thing Victor tells Yuuri when he approaches him at the bar. He says it with wide eyes, studying him with what seems like intense fascination.
Yuuri flushes under his gaze. “It’s usually down,” he mumbles, tugging at his fringe. “Besides, you said we were here to relax, so I left everything back in the room.”
Victor shakes his head and wraps an arm around his waist. “No, miliy, it looks good,” he says happily, pulling him close. “I didn’t know you usually put it down like that. You should do it more often with me.”
Yuuri frowns in confusion, shifts in Victor’s grasp. “What are you… what’s miliy?” He sniffs. “Is that a new cologne?”
Victor beams at him, and Yuuri’s stomach flips. “Do you like it?” he asks, voice thick and eyes darkening. Yuuri’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline.
“Uh,” he stammers. “Yeah. It’s nice.”
Victor’s smile widens, impossibly, and Yuuri shivers as the fingers around his midsection dig into the skin. There’s something slightly off about Victor tonight, but he notices the empty glass on the bar and chalks it down to alcohol.
“Wow, when you said you wanted to take a break, you really meant it,” Yuuri comments later on in the night. He’s practically in Victor’s lap now, and if he weren’t so tipsy he’d be going out of his mind. He reaches out impulsively and touches Victor’s hair, and when the man leans into his touch—nope. Nope, yeah, Yuuri’s still capable of losing his mind right now. If his subconscious were capable of having physical properties, it’d have a terribly sore throat from the internal screaming. “You haven’t checked your e-mail once.”
“Hmm?” Victor doesn’t seem to have heard his question. “No, tell me more about what you did in college,” he mumbles into Yuuri’s neck. “And everything after.” He pauses. “And everything before.”
Yuuri giggles, chest warm. “You’ve already seen my resumé.”
He’s so, so warm. He grabs his glass, drink since finished but he sucks on the straw anyway, sips at the water melting off of the ice cubes.
Victor looks affronted. “I do not want to know what’s on your resumé.”
Yuuri rolls his eyes. “Just because I didn’t have anything related to fashion before working for you… heyyyy.” He frowns and jabs a finger into Victor’s chest. “No more talking about work. We’re off the clock.”
Victor blinks. “Off the clock?” Slowly, the brilliant smile breaks out on his face again, wattage turned up so high Yuuri wants to take his eyes out with the tiny umbrella in Victor’s cocktail. “You mean it?”
“Yeah, isn’t that what you—Victor?!” Yuuri yelps as Victor attaches his mouth to Yuuri’s neck and bites.
kic = kings in couture = fashion editor victor and secretary yuuri tbe = the boyfriend experience = still a skating legend victor and escort yuuri
part 2 with eros yuuri and kic vic comin’ soon to a forovnix near u
Motivated by command, caps, or curiosity, each companion found their own reason to investigate the vault that loomed over the ruins of Sanctuary Hills. The gear-shaped platform screeched as old mechanisms carried it deep under the earth, to a vault entrance still mostly untouched by time. Rusted, yes, with a few bullet holes here and there, but it still reeked of the Old World.
Passing through hallways full of overgrown roaches and grinning skeletons, the silence seemed eerie. Oppressive, even, the unnatural hush from being so far below the surface sending a shiver up the companion’s spine. Past a still-sparking engine, they found rows of frosted pods, the bodies within them a pale blue, and their eyes dull and lifeless.
The companion stopped at the far end of the pods, peering through the plastic window at the young figure within. They fiddled with the control panel just beside the pod, and the adolescent tumbled out.
Cait: She jumped back, breathing curses and jerking her fists up over her chest. “Whattaefuck.” There weren’t enough Pre-War valuables in the world to make this creepy feckin’ Vault worth the trouble. As Sole lay frozen on the floor, the brawler paced, debating whether or not to make a run for it while she still could. Then, she met Sole’s eyes as they feebly lifted their head. A shiver went down her back. “God damn,” she swore, inwardly berating herself for what she was about to do. With a sigh, she knelt down, and extended a hesitant hand. “Y’alright?”
Codsworth: “My word.” His claws flew up over his torso in a human-like gesture, jets propelling him back with a swell of hot air. The warmth from his engine made Sole melt faster than normal, the teen coughing and shuddering back to consciousness. “Are you all right? Are you… Sole?” The lenses of his eyestalks widen. “Er, Mx. Sole, I-I mean. I- Oh, dear.” He flutters, waving his claws, finally settling on hovering low beside the teen and letting his jets warm them, one claw rested on their shoulder for comfort.
Curie: Without Sole’s intervention, she’s still a Miss Nanny bot, locked deep within her own Vault. But, through a stroke of luck, her terminal manages to connect to Vault 111, to patch into the security cameras still overlooking the room of cryogenic pods. She sees Sole’s face, sees the way they stare out the window of their pod, and wonders. Wonders why Vault-Tec would run such experiments on children. Wonders if she’ll ever get to meet them.
Danse: As his team goes through the room, the Paladin opens Sole’s pod and catches them as they fall into his arms. Life support on all the other pods had failed, so he’s surprised when Sole starts shivering and stuttering. “We have a live civilian!” he calls, when Sole coughs and gasps for breath. “I want heat packs and fresh clothes. On the double.” He hands them off to the Scribe, letting them be ushered away and taken above ground. Of all the Pre-War relics he’s recovered, a living child may be his most fascinating find.
Deacon: For a Vault supposedly interfered with by the Institute, this place sure was barren. When he came to Sole’s pod and pressed his fingers to their neck to check for life signs, his mouth felt open as a faint pulse drummed against his fingertips “Whoa, kiddo,” he said, helping ease the teenager from the pod when they lurched forward. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around their shoulders. “Take it easy.” He kept rubbing the kid’s shoulders to try and comfort them, since for the first time in so many years, he had no idea what to say.
Dogmeat: Paired up with a scavver trying to loot the Vault, the dog protected the teenager when they fell from their pod and hit the ground. Dogmeat’s current master wanted to harm the kid, the canine could tell, but this human seemed good. Dogmeat could tell a human in need when he smelled one.
Hancock: He had to be high. He had to be. The ghoul stared blankly at the defrosting kid at his feet, taking mental stock of the amount of chems he’d consumed that day. When they breathed a weak plea for help, Hancock shook his head clear, and knelt down to help them to their feet. A smoothskin vault dweller, huh? Their eyes widened when they saw him, but were too weak to recoil. Since they were the only survivor here, Hancock figured they’d need a little help, and guided them out of the Vault with his arm around their shoulders.
Nick Valentine: A lead on one of Kellogg’s cases brought him to this Vault, but the last thing he was expecting was to find some Pre-War squirt, melting like an ice cube on the Vault floor. He didn’t trust them not to be an Institute plant - too many fishy things going on here. Had to take things with a grain of salt. He did his best to bust up the security cameras, brought Sole to the Overseer’s office, and interrogated them there, asking them questions and making them a cup of hot coffee to warm them up before allowing them out into the wasteland.
MacCready: Some folks wanted this Vault cleared, in case any baddies were waiting to kill whoever tried settling in the rusty neighborhood downhill. When a teenager not much younger than him started coughing for mercy as melted ice pooled around them, the merc started questioning the wisdom in taking this job. “Jesus,” he breathed. “Hey, uh, kid… who the he- heck are you?” Too bewildered to be gentle, he avoided physical contact and gave them something to eat.
Piper: A failed Vault might have made for a mediocre story. But a cryogenically preserved survivor from two centuries ago? Man. The reporter did her best to comfort the teenager, helping them into the other room and sitting them down with a towel around their shoulders, observing their appearance and actions with a critical eye. She knew an interesting character when she saw one, but this kid didn’t seem that much older than Nat, so she stayed as friendly and comforting as possible, trying to play the role of Good Big Sister as she got some food into the teen.
Preston: While everyone else started settling Sanctuary Hills, Preston took it upon himself to investigate the spooky Vault atop the hill nearby. While he couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised when a 200-year-old teenager fell into his arms, he handled it well. “Hey, now,” he breathed, pushing their hair back and holding them in his arms. “It’s gonna be alright. You just breathe.” He even took off his thick Minuteman coat and wrapped it around them, staying by their side until he was sure they were okay.
Strong: Without getting into details, if a tribe of Super Mutants - including an unconverted Strong - got into Vault 111, with Sole at their mercy? That would not be pretty.
X6-88: Father wanted this particular ‘project’ checked up on. The synth couldn’t help but grit his teeth at the thought of the tongue-lashing he’d definitely receive when he returned to the Institute. Sighing, with Sole struggling to wake up beside him, he placed a hand on the teen’s shoulder and signaled to be teleported into the medbay. If they were awake, they were awake. Now X6 just had to deal with the consequences.
(you write SO WELL) What about the first dates with Harry, tho? the flirty little shit he must be. the guy knows he's got the most charming smile and look, throwing the most ridiculous jokes just to see you laugh and feel even more confident. and before the first kiss? I think he'd compliment and let it clear about his intentions, like... "m'sorry, was too distracted by your lips... no' my fault, is it?" and you'd be just dead shy and red and dead. (IM DEAD)
First dates with Harry would be so nerve-racking. He’d be staring into your eyes, wanting to familiarize himself with them so in case he’s ever lonely, he can think of them and feel at peace.
Say you’re at dinner and you put your hand out on the table, maybe playing with the stem of your wine glass, nervous because it’s going really well and the conversation has never lulled. He’d place his hand on top of yours, giving it a small squeeze, rubbing your thumb with his while he continues to tell you a story about how when he was a kid, in the summertime, he would sit and watch ice cubes melt in the driveway for hours on end. “Weird kid. Weird, weird kid,” he’d shake his head, smirking at the memory.
You’d go out for drinks, wanting to stretch out the date as much as possible. He would order a bottle of champagne for the two of you to split, clinking your glasses together with a wiggle of his eyebrows, his smile slipping over the rim of the glass to taste his favorite libation. You would sit close together, and as you drank more bubbly and got more and more comfortable, you’d rest your hand on his shoulder when he made you laugh particularly hard. You’d place your hand on his knee, squeezing gently, when he told you an anecdote about his life that was nearly unbelievable to you. He would lace his fingers with yours while you recounted a horror story about your first job, giggling as you told him instances where your manager was particularly snippy with rude customers.
It would be undeniably intimate, your first date. And not intimate in the sense that you’d go to bed with him that night. He would want to wait for that - not rush things, not mess things up before they even got started. But, rather, intimate in the way getting to know someone can be. He’d want to memorize everything about you; want to remember every little detail and idiosyncrasy so he could look back on that night when he told your children about when he knew he was going to marry their mother.
He would walk you to your car, offering you his arm. Before you got the chance to open the door, he would gently place his palm onto the hitch of your jaw, guiding your lips to his. It wouldn’t take much - you’d wanted to be attached to his mouth the moment he started to talk - and when he slips his tongue across your bottom lip after a series of open-mouthed kisses, you’d gasp a little, your heart flipping up into your throat.
“Feel that?” he’d ask, pressing his forehead up against yours. “Righ’ in the pit of your stomach? Haven’t felt that in the longest time.”
And you would nod, because you would know exactly what he was talking about.
I’ve been severely lacking in inspiration because of how busy I have been. So I went back to basics: some personal experiences I’ve had at bars in NYC and around where I go to school, and a College AU set up. Could I be inspired to continue this? Heck yeah I probably could.
Will immediately half-swerved, focusing desperately on keeping his gaze forward at the line of liquors mounted on the wall, and not ogling at the dude next to him because damn he was fine—the kind of fine that would have him sobbing on the carpet of Lou Ellen’s dorm at four-in-the-morning while stuffing his face with veggie pizza and watching Ru Paul’s Drag Race later. But for now, it definitely wouldn’t help him to freak out the dude by staring. Besides, everyone knew that hot guys in leather jackets who wore Iron Maiden tee-shirts were generally as straight as boards. No use getting his hopes up.
A/N: I found a way to work this into Roommates. Mwhahahahahahahahahaha!!! Enjoy.
I do not own Teen Wolf or it’s characters. Sadly.
@jazzijanal said: “Maybe a Derek imagine based on the song Closer by the Chains Chainsmokers ft. Halsey? If not that fine but It could be awesome.”
Derek stared down at the brown liquid in his cup, swirling it gently, letting the melting ice cubes play a random beat against the inside of the glass.
“That’s the last one, bud,” the bartender said to him, nodding to the drink in his hands.
Derek plastered on a smile. “Oh, come on, man, I’m not even buzzed yet.”
Raising a skeptical eyebrow at him, the bartender scoffed. “That’s your fifth one, you should be beyond just ‘buzzed’ right now.”
Suppressing a growl of irritation Derek slumped back in his chair, nodding in defeat, ignoring the curious looks the bartender shot over his shoulder as he moved down the bar to the other patrons. Lost in the clinking of his ice, he almost missed her voice. It had been years since the sound had graced his ears, but it’s one of those things you never forget.
A/N: this is for @bladebarnes‘ 2k Writing Challenge! My theme was ‘love at first sight’ and I ended up exploring a spin on it…hope you enjoy :)
Friday, 7:15 pm
Everyone prays. Everyone has their reasons, too: wanting to be closer to a religious figure, for protection, hope, or the last slice of pizza. Whether they know it or not, they pray.
Including you, devoutly, for the L train to hurry its metal butt up.
All you wanted was to get home to Brooklyn, and as that wouldn’t happen without having faith in the being that controlled the rails, you urged the oil gods to make the rails smooth and quick and whatever else the metal butt needed to move fast. You had to take the L train, but if you could help it, you didn’t want to take the L. Here’s to hoping your prayers convinced it to come on time.
author’s note: was going through my likes the other day and saw this. started cracking up and decided to write a fic for it. also here’s the song i was imagining for that one part in the fic. you’ll see what i mean. hope y’all enjoy <3 also titles are the worst. i think they’re the hardest part about the writing process lol
I stepped into our room. In my hands was a tray full of food. A bowl of strawberries, chocolate fudge, whipped cream, and two glasses with ice in them. Dan had turned all of the lights out but one, the fire screensaver on his desktop was an excellent touch. Dan himself was scrolling on his phone, lying in the center of the bed above the covers.
Imagine peter go swoosh swoosh web and runs into pretty girl eating ice cream on roof top and accidentally swoosh her ice cream and she gets really mad so she waits until the next day on standby so when he swooshes by she pelts him with ice cubes. HOW DO YOU LIKE DEM APPLES.
I LOVE THIS SO I’M GOING TO WRITE A DRABBLE OKAY? OKAY
Summer in Queens this year was bordering on a heatwave, and with your AC broken, you had to cling to any source of cooling to keep yourself from going crazy. So you had gone out to the store last night and bought an ice cream with the dwindling change you had leftover after paying this months rent. Now, sat on the edge of your window sill, enjoying the ghost of a breeze blowing through the alleyway, you unwrapped the ice cream.
It seemed almost sinful, the way you were eyeing the treat, wiping the sweat off your brow and mentally preparing yourself for the heaven that you were about to devour. Unfortunately, a certain evil-fighting web slinger had just been advised by Karen that he would reach his destination faster if he cut through the alley to his left.
Peter thanked his AI, swinging through the array of fire escapes, welcoming the way the wind encompassed his body and cooled the sweat that became trapped in his suit. He was just thinking about asking Karen if there was an inbuilt AC in his suit when his eyes caught sight of a pretty girl sitting in a window. In this moment of distraction, Peter misjudged his aim, accidentally shooting a web towards the creamy treat that was about to enter your mouth. He quickly corrected himself, throwing his hand up just in time to keep his momentum as a web attached to a nearby rusty pipe.
“Hey!” You yelled, frowning as you watched your smashed ice cream melt on the pavement below you.
“S-sorry!” Peter called back, continuing on his path. “I feel really bad about that Karen, should I go talk to her?” He huffed, turning to catch a glimpse of you before he turned the corner.
“If you can manage to talk to her and intercept those thieves in 27.8 seconds.” Karen replied in her usual calm manner.
“Damn it.” Peter grumbled, continuing on his way. You stayed by your window, whining internally and wallowing in your own self pity as the remnants of the breeze settled into a disgusting humidity.
Peter stopped on a nearby rooftop, peering down to see the same pretty girl who had distracted him the other day. Oddly, she was perched by her window, her eyes narrowed and vigilant as a bead of sweat ran down her face. Peter shrugged to himself, swinging down with one hand as his other was occupied.
As soon as you spotted the flash of red and blue your plan sprung into action, and you began pelting the poor boy with melting ice cubes.
“Take that, Ice Cream Murderer!” You chuckled. Who knew throwing semi-hard objects at a man in a suit would be so satisfying?
“Woah woah hey!” Peter covered his face, cradling the thing he held in his hand behind his back.
“Should I initiate instant kill mode?” Karen chimed.
“No!” Peter groaned. He shivered as the ice cubes melted, leaving a cold chill up his spine. He watched as you stood at the window, huffing from the exertion with your eyes wide as you had run out of things to throw. “Are you uh,” Peter cleared his throat. “finished, Ma’am?”
You wiped your sweaty face on the back of your sleeve. “Yes, I think I am, Mister Spider.”
“It’s Spider-Man.” Peter said softly yet firmly, crawling closer to your window. “I brought you something.” He held out his hand, where it was revealed he was holding a new ice cream.
“Oh.” You blinked. “Um… thank you.” You smiled a guilty smile, and it made his heart flutter. Peter teetered on the edge of your window’s fire escape as you curiously eyed him. “Sorry for pelting you with ice cubes.”
“Eh,” he dismissively waved his hand, “it was a nice way to cool down.”
You ended up chatting for a while, and Peter was captivated. Following this encounter, you’d always find an ice cream by your window with a little note from Spider-Man. And when you were lucky, sometimes the masked boy would even come visit, requesting an ice cube shower.
Benny’s skin is a few degrees hotter than a human’s (which still makes no sense to Dean), burning when they touch until Dean’s own skin is flushed pink. The fires in Purgatory, the ones that kept them safe at night, pull beads of sweat from Dean’s skin. When Benny bites into him, the blood that drips is thick and warm, as is Benny’s breath when he moans at the taste.
John and the boys were more than approachable on the sunny afternoon of August 26, 1965, as the Beatles enjoyed their rented house in the posh Benedict Canyon neighborhood of Los Angeles. I was lounging by the pool with them when we all heard a scream. Suddenly, a small body lunged over the retaining wall and fell not far from Ringo’s feet. Somehow or other, the little girl, mud and blood cake on her face, had managed to climb a steep hill in order to invade Beatlesville. Instead of dispatching her, which road managers Mal Evans and Neil Aspinall wanted to do, John calmly put his hand on her shoulder, whispered something in her ear, and used a towel and water to clean up her face. What happened in the next few minutes will remain one of my most priceless visual memories of John Lennon. He talked to her quietly, one-on-one, with an obvious sense of sincerity and true caring. I never heard a word he said, but this teenage stalker, humbled by gravity and a retaining wall, hurt inside and outside, broke into a toothy smile that would melt an ice cube on the spot. This was where John Lennon showed me the man inside the man.
Spider-Man: Homecoming: Peter Parker x Fem. Reader
Request:None all me. That’s why it’s such trash.
Warnings: Strong language, angst
Word Count: 2,108
A/N:Hey guys! I feel very bad about my work this time because it is very character heavy so you won’t read a whole lot of Penis Peter Parker. I will however, continue this story if it kind of intrigues you. I started to get more exhausted as this story went on because of the time of night I was drafting it. I have not looked it over thoroughly so sorry if you see mistakes within the content. I am trying to get better at my grammar. Hope you enjoy! Oh, and one more thing! Please Request!
The loud music was drumming in my ears. Horny teenagers danced around the room into each other. I watched along the crowd while sitting in a small table in the kitchen. It was bad enough I barely left my house, but when I did it was to a dancing orgy of the youth. Sitting in this packed house gave me a drowning feeling, I hated the smell of sweaty people and overused cologne.
The weekend was a big time to party and as my eyes scanned the crowd I could see everyone from my school here. It made me self conscious seeing all these Barbie doll girls dressed up while I had jeans and a hoodie. Yet, I swore I would put my big girl panties on and wait for my friends to finish grinding on strangers. My friends were the only people I had since my moving here and I couldn’t risk upsetting them by leaving.