you know you want to watch his hair flip again and again ~~~

Side to Side

Pairing: Tom Holland!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Prompts: None

Word Count: 2465

Warning(s): Some swear words, slight smut (Nothing crazy but it goes there)

Requests: I have like 10 followers so like none of you pay attention to me (jk jk you guys are cool)

Song: Side to Side  (duh) by Ariana Grande

Author’s Note: This is kinda crap but I’m totally obsessed with Tom Holland and Spider-Man Homecoming so come on this wild ride and be trash with me! Give me feedback please I promise I’ll get to it in like 10 years

Summary: Reader and Peter (slant rhyme woo) are friends and both on the Avengers. They’re training in the gym and things get s t e a m y…

Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

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seven signs

Summary: Bucky feels like he’s falling in love.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none - pure fluff!

Word Count: 2.1k [yikes, sorry]

A/N: Here’s my submission for the ever lovely Gen’s @bucky-plums-barnes 8k celebration - congrats again, sweetheart! My prompt was: “You know I only have eyes for you.” - hope you all enjoy :) || masterlist


Originally posted by minmiin1d


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A brazen challenge

Synopsis: Imagine admitting to Loki that you never manage to orgasm when are with men, making him smirk mischievously in response.

“Is that a challenge, my dear?”

So for the next couple of hours, he magically locks the two of you in your room and makes it a challenge as to how many times he can make you cum in a row. He pleasures you with his soft hands, his skilled and long fingers and his silver tongue before he fucks you roughly.

Pairing: Loki x Reader
Rating: M
Chapter: 1/1 (Oneshot)
Words: 4040
Warnings: smut. a lot of smut.

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You Who... [M] (ft. Jeongguk)

Drabble Game Prompt 96. “Here, let me.” with badboy/jock!jeongguk

→ badboy football jk (warning: overstimulation, cumplay, fluff, and fuckingjeonjungkook)
→ 1.4k words prequel part 01 | 02

A/N: i have no idea where this came from, my hand sort of slipped, jfc what have i done 

UPDATE: added the highly-requested prequel as a thank you for 1k+ notes :) make sure to check out Give and Take! It’s a similar AU to this one! 


“There you go, yes, you can do it babe,” Jeongguk encourages, as you bite down on your lip.  

He grins up at you as you move your hips slowly against his, finding the way you squeeze your eyes shut tightly the cutest thing ever. 

“J-jeongguk I-I can’t–” you stutter, arms clutching at his bare shoulders as your movements stutter and begin to slow down. But you whimper instead at the loss of friction between your legs and begin to cry tears of frustration as you don’t know whether to continue grinding against him and chase after another orgasm or to stop completely. 

He just laughs huskily from beneath you, and wipes a tear from your cheek and presses a quick peck to your chin as you make up your mind and your movements continue. His head dips down to press open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone, painting the skin there in blossoms of red and pink. “Shh,” he grates against your neck, a gentle hand coming up to stroke down your spine and settling on the curve of your hip to firmly help guide you up and down his cock. “you got this.” 

He’s in awe as he watches you desperately move against him, your soft breasts and nipples brushing up against his hard chest and melting him on the spot. It’s been years since he’s met you and only a few months since the both of you finally started having sex, but he’s secretly delighted at how sensitive you are and how desperate you are to pleasure the both of you. He wants to spread you out and fuck you with his fingers and tongue and make you cum over and over until you’re screaming hoarsely or tie you down onto the bed and tease you for hours until you’re begging for him, but he smiles as he relishes in actually convincing you to top him for once. 

Cause this time he’s being a little selfish and pushing the boundaries on how far he can take you because he’s currently coaxing your through your third orgasm and is harder than he’s ever been in his life as he watches you in tears because you’re desperate to reach the peak once again. 

You muffle your cries in in his neck and thread your fingers in his hair as you feel the wave approaching again. “Jeongguk, ‘m gonna come,” you murmur breathlessly, making his dick clench at how fucking submissive you sound to him right now. He whispers sooth encouragements into your ear and moves his hips up to meet yours just right and grazes the spot inside of you that has you cringing and sighing into his neck as he grunts when you clamp down on him and bite gently into his shoulder to muffle your cries. 

The orgasm is stronger than the last two he brought you to with his fingers and his mouth, respectively, as the feeling of his skin beneath your fingertips and the sheer rawness of his length brushing your walls makes you clamp down on his girth harder than you’ve ever come before. You cry out and clench your teeth and you’re going through your third intense wave of your orgasm when suddenly he flips the both of you over and pins your hips to his bed and begins to pound into you desperately.

His voice is strained and his hairline slick with sweat as he props himself up above you and glares determinedly into your face thats scrunched up in pleasure, moving his hips against you until he reaches his own peak. You feel his dick twitch once before he’s letting out a loud groan and a strangled cry of your name before his chest pulses for a moment and then he slumps down onto you. 

The both of you are spent and you’re still crying from the overwhelming feeling of being coaxed through three orgasms, with the third being the most intense you’ve ever felt in your life, and your chest heaves from the effort it took. Jeongguk is no better, as he pulls out of you with a groan and kneels between your legs. 

Taking advantage of your slumped and exhausted state, he pushes up a thigh and leans down a bit to see how his cum leaks out of your slit and grasps his cock that hasn’t softened yet with a groan. He gently holds the base of his sensitive member and collects the cum that’s already oozed out onto your thigh with his tip before pushing it back into you. 

You let out a strangled cry, a hand coming up to your mouth so you can muffle your cries, and another desperately clutching onto the wrist holding onto your thigh. He pauses, glancing up at your expression and waiting for you to push him away, but a slight movement of your wrist draws your thigh higher up and his hips a bit closer to you. Grinning, he grasps his softening cock once again and drags his tip from your upper thigh back into your slit, massaging his own cum into your center. 

When he’s completely limp and cringing himself from the overstimulation of pushing himself back into your pussy, he drops your thigh and climbs back up, whispering sweet things into your ear. 

“Baby, you were so good,” he coos, smoothing back your hair and wiping leftover tears. “You deserved that, you were so hot. Here, let me,” he gets a warm towel from the restroom and wipes down your thighs and core before dressing you in his t-shirt (a sight which he’ll never admit he absolutely loves) and pulling on a pair of boxers before climbing into bed with you and pulling you into his chest.

“I loved it.” 

You hiccup, breath short from the sensitivity but also from your tears. “You did?” 

And he thinks its the damned cutest thing ever, how even if you were an innocent girl he’d never thought he’d date, you suddenly turned into a sex starved shyer version of yourself because of him, and then returned back to the sweet blushing one he’d fallen in love with even after hours of rough sex and the dirtiest things. It absolutely fucking thrills him and makes his dick so hard whenever he brings you to too many orgasms, when you reach the point where you dont know whether to stop or continue, or to cry or kiss him. He’s had his fair share of flings and sexcapades, but he knows that the only girl who’s ever made him so whipped, the only girl who’s gotten Jeon Jeongguk wrapped around her tiny little finger, is you. 

You who he began to tease and flirt with as a joke, but ended up falling so damn hard for you after just a partner project where you ended up sympathizing with him and treating him like a real fucking human being, and not the football athlete that everyone worshipped and expected so much out of. You who always looked at him, past his body and face and extracurriculars, and into his soul and really truly understood who he was at the core. You who drunkenly kissed him one night underneath the stars and you who’s cheeks went furiously red when he kissed you again in front of the entire school. You who weren’t afraid of telling him when he was being too cocky or just a dick, and made sure to keep him in check, to the point that his teammates were commenting on what a kind softie he was becoming. 

And finally, you who he found himself hopelessly irrevocably in love with. 

And he looks down at you, with your bare face that’s not really anything special. Eyes, nose, and lips that are average, hair that’s common, and a body that others will say they’ve seen better. But its the way you look at him with your eyes that makes him love you. The way you press your nose against his neck when you cuddle with him and the way you shyly move your soft lips against him when you kiss him goodbye. It’s the way your hair feels like absolute silk underneath his fingers when he runs his hands through them when you’re asleep, and the way your entire body literally lights up and bends at his will and his only

Those are the things, amongst many, that made the high and mighty bad boy Jeon Jeongguk fall in love with you. 

So he cups your face and smiles as he pecks against your lips, peppering your face with them until you giggle and shriek against his attack. Laughing, he draws you close. 

“I did, because I fucking love you.”


Prequel: 01 & 02 [fin], Give and Take[M]

Bruised (Richie/Eddie) 1/12

Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.

Warning(s): Suicide attempt?? , depression, mental illness’, mixture of fluff and angst throughout the series, homophobic slurs

A/N: Hi!! welcome to part 1 of IDK HOW MANY but ayy!! Honestly, i’M MAKING A TAG LIST FOR THIS SERIES SO IF ANYONE WHO DOESN’T WANNA FOLLOW ME OR WANTS TO BE NOTIFIED JUST ASK!!

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

Richie Tozier brought the cigarette between his lips, letting the toxic smoke fill his decaying lungs and pulse throughout his insides and swirls around in each crevice of his body. He then takes away the cancer stick, after a moment blowing out the toxic waste into the thin November air.

Beverly Marsh raised an eyebrow at him, sitting across from the much taller boy on the brick wall with her own cigarette between her fingers. She watched as the smoke faded into nothing, sighing lightly as she proceeded to watch her best friend smoke away.

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The Secret Book Club

Originally posted by lokihiddleston

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Content/Warnings: Innuendos and a cheeky Loki and a very very shitty book. Also mild swears.

Words: 1767

Prompt: LOKI X READER WHO SHARE BOOKS AND READ TO EACHOTHER AND LOTS OF FLUFF HHH THAT WOULD BE SO CUTE PLEASE

Soooo this turned out much different than what I expected, (sorry anon I was having too much fun) but there is most definitely going to be a part 2 to this coming soon. At the request of a few people I’m starting a tag list, so if you want in then just shoot me a message! :)

Enjoy ;)

@mrsethedreamqueen@asometimestroubledmind

Part two
Part three
Part four
Part five
Part six
Part seven (NSFW)

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the bet || fuckboi!peter parker x reader

 oi, I don’t want to make this too long but…. IM BACK smh I’ve been so m.i.a. but that’s literally because I’ve been so busy and have bad writer’s block. Smh this probably ain’t even gon be good. But like I worked hard on it to have meaning and stuff and I rlly hope you guys enjoy it. I just want you guys to get straight to the story because you’ve waited so long for it and I’ve been teasing it sm smh. Just read it hope you enjoy muthertruckers😬

tags : @running-outta-time @i-just-wanna-run-hell @munalisax @themyscirahs @sammie-blogs @geeksareunique @violentlybarnes @geeksareunique

words : 11,197

warnings : fuckboi!peter parker, mild cussing, various mentions of sex, angst, ned needs a hug, peter needs a hug, you need a hug, everyone needs a hug

Masterlist

——————–

Originally posted by peter-and-mj


”I bet you your whole Goddamn rep that you couldn’t get weird ass mcgee over there to sleep with you; you know, take her v-card. Before. We. Graduate.”

The words spoken smugly by one of Peter’s multiple friends at the lunch table caught his attention as quick as you could say, “Spider,” The statement challenged him, making him smirk at the smug boy before looking over his shoulder, almost savagely, at the fifteen year old girl huddled in her own little corner of a table in the back, her face morphing as she read through numerous pages of the thick book she held in her hands.

Watching the scene, Peter laughed and shook his head before turning back the group at his table, them looking deeply invested as to what would happen next, he spoke lowly, “Watch me.”

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Skyline {II}

Originally posted by over-et

Warnings: Language

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: Guys!!! I’m seriously blown away at all the commotion and excitement around Skyline.  In the two days that I’ve posted it, I’ve had to turn off my notifications just because they were blowing up!! Thank you so much for all that you’ve done and, hopefully, will continue to do…as there will be a Skyline pt. 3 and possibly pt. 4!!  One quick thing I’d like to mention, however, is that I’ve gotten a lot of requests to tag people in my writing.  While I’m honoured that you guys want to know as soon as possible when I update, I’ve had so many people request to be on a tags list that I’ve just decided not to do one.  I don’t ever want to leave someone out or forget about someone, so I thought it’d be best to not have one at all.  I really hope this doesn’t affect you guys too much, but if you follow me, I usually give pretty regular updates on what’s going to be coming soon.  And, with that out of the way, I hope you enjoy!!

{part I}

It had taken a few weeks, but life after your meeting with Spider-Man had finally returned to normal. The groups of people hanging around your locker had broken up, the teachers stopped questioning you in front of class, and only three people asked if you had Spider-Man’s number when they wrote in your yearbook.  Despite the attention you had received, however, your school year had come to an uneventful close.  And although you were grateful the interrogations had stopped, you were less than overjoyed about the dullness your days had once again become coloured with.

Your time was filled with events in which variety was far and few.  You woke up at the same time, ate the same breakfast, took care of the same two year old next door, visited your same friends, and tried not to notice the slow ticking of the clock on the wall.  It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy the time with your friends, or your favourite toddler; it was just that you felt…different.  Different in a way that you couldn’t explain, or even put into words.  Just different.

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Not Just Friends || Jughead Jones

Request: ‘Jughead x Reader where he has a wet dream and then when he confronts the reader it gets steamy?’ -by Anon

A/N: I am sinning again but hey, I kind of like how this turned out. Feel free to request more and tell me any details you guys want so I can make it more like what you wanted!

Warnings: smut, sin, and swearing

Words with quotes and italics like ‘this’ are either thoughts, or text messages.

A * symbol means that a flashback is occurring.

—————————————————————————————

Hips grinding into the sheets, groan, tug, repeat. Jughead didn’t dream to begin with, especially not about fucking. In the dream he snapped his hips against yours, kissing your neck and moaning into your ear, hands tangled in your hair.

In reality his face was pressed against his pillow, hips stuttering against his mattress, and the hands that he thought were in your hair, were gripping the bed roughly, tugging lightly with each groan that passed his lips.

This went on for a few minutes, moans becoming louder and more frequent, hips stuttering more often, movements getting sloppier as his body came closer to finishing.

His eyes snapped open as his hips ground forward, orgasm flowing through him as he moved his hips a bit more lightly, riding out the orgasm with a low groan into his pillow.

Lazily rolling onto his back, he sighed as he rubbed his face, tired eyes scanning the room that wasn’t actually yours. Checking the time he groaned, for once thankful that he lived alone at the drive-in, no embarrassing conversations about why he was groaning so sexually, so early in the morning.

He changed and did his usual morning routine, making sure he was ready for school and trying to forget about the shameful, sexual dream he had. However, upon arriving at the school and quickly seeing you approaching, he realized it would be nearly impossible to forget.

Biting his lip, he quickly dismissed the thought, ‘she’s your best friend, Jug. Don’t screw it up’ he groaned mentally at his conscious, forcing a smile on as you finally reached him.

A smirk quickly took over your face, “you’re making that face that you always make when you’re thinking way too hard, Jug. You realize it’s gonna give you wrinkles, right?” you said teasingly, causing the beanie wearing boy to roll his eyes, failing to hide a smile.

Wrapping an arm around you, he mumbled a brief “you know me so well” before yawning. From the corner of his eye he saw you shake your head, “did you sleep less than usual too? I bet you stayed up writing about Jason again, or maybe you were thinking about how in love with me you are” you said with a nudge, and the boy stiffened for a moment.

Quickly realizing you were joking he moved his arm that was around your shoulders, shoving it in his pocket instead as he laughed, “totally, I couldn’t stop imagining us, together riding off into the sunset like some bad romance movie” he retaliated, lips curling into a fond smile as you rolled your eyes, gasping overdramatically.

The moment was ruined as the familiar sound of the bell ringing echoed through the halls, causing your eyes to widen as you ran to your next class, shouting a rushed “we’ll talk later!” as you did.

The raven haired boy walked to his class, mind racing as he began to stress over what he should do about his dream. Most of the day was spent like this, going back and forth between his options, to tell you about how he felt and the dream, or to hide it and pine after you silently and desperately.

By the end of the day you had realized the boy was thinking, but you didn’t know about what, and didn’t want to interrupt his thoughts. To say you were surprised when he lead you to his ‘home’ at the drive-in, claiming he had to tell you something important,  was an understatement.

Deciding not to express your shock, you leaned against the wall and watched him carefully as he paced. Just as you were about to speak he raised a hand, “Don’t say anything, not one thing. I need to let this out right now before I decide to chicken out of it” he sighed, lifting his gaze to meet yours anxiously.

Concern flooded your being, and you nodded quickly as he began to speak, “I like you, I really like you- hell I love you, (Y/N). I have to tell you this because we’re best friends, and I had this really weird dream that you should not have about your best friend. You definitely don’t have to return the feelings but please just don’t-” his rambling was cut off as you kissed him roughly.

His hands immediately gripped your hips and he almost moaned at the satisfaction of kissing you. Meanwhile you tugged off his hat, letting your hands tangle in his hair, head tilting and deepening the kiss.

In no time the boy picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as you got shoved against the closest wall roughly, hips bucking forward seeking friction. Both of you kissed each other sloppily, your hands yanked off his shirt, tossing it in the same direction his hat went, while his groped your breasts, moving to tug your shirt off afterwards as well.

Your hands ran along his chest, “Jug, bed” you managed to mumble between messy kisses, said boy obediently moving the steamy session to his bed, laying you down and crawling over you, immediately grinding down again for even more friction.

He groaned lowly, unclipping your bra and tossing it in a random direction, and you took the opportunity to flip your position, Jughead now underneath you, panting with half-lidded eyes.

Grinning, you straddled him and kissed along his neck, sucking lightly until you heard a high moan. You quickly abused the spot, sucking harshly and nipping at it, feeling Jughead’s hands gripping your hips roughly as he groaned and panted heavily, pants becoming noticeably tighter.

Feeling the hardness against your thigh, you smirked mischievously as you slowly lowered yourself, undoing his pants and taking them off, mouthing and jacking his member lightly, causing his pants and groans to become more frequent.

Before you could get too far, he put a hand on your shoulder, “Not this time” he mumbled lazily, smirking as he flipped you again, taking off whatever clothing you had left, doing the same to himself and kissing you roughly, teasing you as he slowly inched into you.

A sexually frustrated groan tumbled from your lips as you tried to push yourself onto him, his hands preventing you from doing so. After a few moments he got rather impatient, deciding to save the teasing for another time as he fully entered you, groaning at the new feeling, you doing the same.

He quickly snapped his hips against yours a few times, one of your hands tangling in his hair while the other went to the back of his neck. One of his hands moved to support himself so he wouldn’t fall onto you, his other one groping you once more.

You groaned loudly, panting heavily and letting your eyes squeeze shut as you bucked involuntarily, causing a similar but lower groan to leave the boys lips. He bit his lip and continued moving his hips, head falling into your neck as he kissed and sucked at it, pausing occasionally as he panted heavily.

Toes curling at the feeling, your head tilted back and you bit your lip, “Jug, pick up the pace” you muttered into his ear, moaning as he did as told, smirking into your neck before grunting as he felt himself get closer to the edge.

Your legs wrapped around his waist to get a better angle and you lost it as he hit your g-spot, moaning obscenely and more frequently. It didn’t take long for Jughead to speed up even more as he realized what happened, moaning at the feeling of you clenching around him slightly.

Suddenly you felt a knot in your stomach, “Jug, don’t stop because ‘m gonna cum” you panted, knot snapping as white flooded your vision, all your senses stopping for a moment.

Jughead grunted a few times as he felt himself cum, riding out his orgasm and thrusting into you a few more times, causing you to whine at the overstimulation. He pulled out after a moment, eyes opening as he flopped down onto his bed next to you, your own eyes opening again as well.

You heard a sigh next to you, head turning to see Jughead smiling to himself dreamily, “hey, Jug you look more insane than happy” you teased, “better than the dream?” you added with a raised brow, causing the boy to snort quietly, “way better” he whispered, turning to you and kissing you gently.

Wrapping his arms around you, he shut his eyes again, dozing off. You smiled at his sleeping figure, dozing off yourself, thinking about what the next day would have in store for you and your dark haired companion.

Originally posted by bugheadjones-the-third

Suga Daddy: Part 11

Suga Daddy: Part 11 (m)

Word count: 8.3k

Genre/Warnings: smut, angst, language, dom!Yoongi, choking and dirty talk

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Yoongi comes with you to Jungkook’s graduation.

I think there might be just a few chapters left. 

Parts: {playlist} one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten

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Unbearable || Peter Parker Imagine

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Request:  Could you write an imagine where the reader is Tony Stark’s daughter and is dating Peter Parker and something happens between them, either like assuming the other one cheated and idk one or the other is hurt and idk i wonder what the situation would end up being like? Thank you!

Word Count: 1752 words

Originally posted by fuckyeahtonystark

(i think I’ve used this gif before but there aren’t many left)

For a couple of weeks now, Y/N has noticed how her boyfriend, Peter, has been getting closer and closer to her best friend Liz. He used to always eat lunch with Y/N and sit next to her in classes. Now, he’s doing that with the perfect Liz Allen. Sometimes, the young girl thought that Peter was dating her for her last name. Stark. Y/N wasn’t jealous of her friend, just envious of the attention she was getting from Peter. Y/N wanted to get closer to her boyfriend again, and she didn’t know what to do.

One day when she went over to Peter’s house, he was being awfully distant. Y/N knew about his alter ego Spider-Man because his relationship with her dad. She knew that was part of the reason why he was bailing on dates but, he would always try to make time with Y/N at least three times a week. That all changed the day he started hanging out with Liz more. The couple only hang out once a week now. So, while she sat on his bed, all she could think about was how he was most likely cheating on her.

“Peter?” She asked quietly. He was on his phone, by his desk, barely paying attention to the girl who was breaking inside. “Hm?” He muttered, smiling at his phone. He tapped the screen lightly to, what Y/N could gather, text someone back.

“Who are you texting?” She asked softly again, looking down at her legs hanging off the edge of the bed. Peter stuttered, “It’s n-no one.” He put his phone down to give his girlfriend his full undivided attention.

“We need to talk Peter.” She forced out, looking him in the eye. “Isn’t that what we’re doing now?” He chuckled at his own statement.

“I mean about us Peter!” Y/N said, angrier than before. This surprised Peter. She was never normally…. angry. Y/N exhaled, trying to keep her cool.

“W-What about us?” He stuttered, “I thought we were doing fine.”

“You’ve been ditching me Peter but, not to protect the city. To hang out with my best friend. And don’t try to deny it cause I see pictures of you guys on her Snapchat all the time.” She sniffled. Peter sighed, “Y/N,” he said shaking his head slightly, standing up to go sit next to her. Before he could complete his statement, she interrupted, “Are you cheating on me with Liz?” She asked.

He shook his head yet again, grabbing her face with both of his hands, turning her towards his. “No, it’s…..it’s not like that.” Y/N got out of his grasp by standing up. Tears started to escape her eyes.  

“Then what’s it like Peter?” She demanded, crossing his arms. Peter sat there on his bed, trying to think of an answer. “It’s just,” he couldn’t continue. He didn’t know what to say.

“It’s just what?” Y/N questioned, getting loud again. Peter looked at his hands.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Y/N.” He couldn’t tell her his plan. Not yet. She’ll forgive me though, he thought. She scoffed, uncrossing her arms to grab her stuff. Before she left his bedroom, she turned to look at him. “You know what Peter,” she scoffed, “Liz is all your’s now.” she spat, slamming his bedroom door.

Y/N scurried towards the front door of the apartment. May was sitting on the couch, watching the girl leave. She smiled sadly, “Bye May,” she opened the door but stopped at the sound of his voice. “Y/N,” He said from across the room with a sad look on his face. “Goodbye, Peter.” She slammed the door not looking back.

School the next day was awful for both Peter and Y/N. Peter had no girlfriend to constantly boast about and Y/N had no one to kiss or greet by her locker in the morning. At lunch, Y/N sat with Liz, not saying anything to her with her friends not speaking as well. Liz broke the silence, “I heard you and Peter broke up.“She said sympathetically. Y/N scoffed, “Let me guess, he told you? Did he tell you why?” Liz nodded her head, “He isn’t cheating on you Y/N.” She said looking at the girl honestly.

“Well obviously he isn’t cause we aren’t together, which means he can date anyone he wants. Including you.” Y/N said, grabbing her lunch and moving to sit somewhere away from Liz, and away from Peter. He saw Y/N stand up, angrily and move away from her best friend. This was all his fault.

Later that day, when Peter arrived at the Avengers tower, Tony was furious. Tony walked with Peter into his lab, grabbing the boy by the color of his shirt viciously. “I’ll give you ten seconds to explain why you cheated on my little girl.” He said with venom lacing his voice.

“That’s not what happened, Mr. Stark. I swear.” Peter expressed with a worried tone.. Tony let go of his collar glaring at him. “Then why has Y/N been crying her eyes out?”

Peter rubbed his face with his hands wanting all of this to just blow over. He hated the fact that it was HIS fault as to why the love of his life wasn’t smiling. “Liz was helping me with something…” Peter trailed off, making the genius confused. “Is that a euphemism for sex or something?” Tony grimaced.

“No! No, oh god no. Nothing like that.” Peter said in shock and slight disgust. “What was it then?” Tony crossed his arms, just like Y/N did last night.

Peter sighed, “Liz is Y/N’s best friend so I went to her for advice.”

“For what?” Tony asked, less agitated at the young superhero standing in front of him. Peter looked at his shoes while bouncing on his feet. “I needed help for asking your daughter to Homecoming, so I thought, who knows her better than she knows herself and I thought Liz. That’s all we were doing Mr. Stark.” He said sadly, realizing that all the help he was getting didn’t matter because he wasn’t with his girl anymore.

Tony was still confused, “Couldn’t you have Googled ideas?” He asked,knowing now that it was all a misunderstanding between the juvenile lovers. Peter shook his head.

“It’s not that easy Mr. Stark. I thought maybe Y/N wanted a subtle way to be asked to the dance. But what if she wanted something completely extraordinary. That’s why I went to Liz. But I wasn’t with her constantly. I was with her handful of lunch periods, and we went to Starbucks to talk about it once. Only once.” He explained. Dropping his backpack on the floor.

“How do you plan on asking her?” Tony questioned walking around his lab.

“We’re not together anymore…..” Peter said as if Tony wasn’t listening to the conversation, following the man around the lab. Tony turned around to face Peter. “I don’t care, You were good for her. And I don’t want her dating some idiot. Now, how are you going to ask her?” He questioned Peter yet again.Peter had a big smile on his face, ready to tell him.

That night, there was a knock on Y/N’s window. It wasn’t too late at night, but she knew exactly who it was. “Go away.” She said, loud enough for him to hear her through the window. He tapped on the glass again, “Go away!” She said slightly louder. The tapping continued much to her dismay. Y/N groaned and got up off of her bed to open the window.

She looked through the glass to see Peter Parker, or Spider-Man, hanging upside down on a web, holding a huge teddy bear and roses in one hand with a poster in the other that said, “It would be unBEARable to go to Homecoming without you” in red letters. Y/N froze, looking at him with wide eyes. He flipped over and let go of the webbing.

She opened the window, helping the boy through it and into her room. “Peter, what the hell? We aren’t a thing anymore, remember?” She said a bit agitated. Peter put the poster down, grabbing his mask off of his face, shaking his head to fix his hair. “I swear that I didn’t cheat on you with Liz, alright? She was just helping me with ideas to ask you to Homecoming.” Peter admitted, wanting her to know the truth. Y/N had a more understanding look in her eyes.

“Then why were you bailing on all of our dates?” She asked.

“Crime rates have gone up in New York, despite everyone’s effort to stop it. Trust me, I wanted to go on those dates with you, it’s just- someone needs to be there for the city after the whole hero versus hero thing.” He rushed. “Please, you have to believe me.” He said sadly.

Y/N ran to him, wrapping her arms around him. Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I’m such an asshole,” the girl in his arms mumbled against his shoulder, “I should’ve listened to you. I’m so sorry.” Peter rubbed one hand on her back reassuringly holding his gifts for her in the other. “There’s no need to apologize. I would’ve done the same thing though.” He stated honestly. The two pulled away from each other.

Peter moved to pick up the poster to show her again. He had a cheesy grin on his face as he held everything. “Will you go to homecoming with me?” He asked. Y/N nodded her head, “Of course I will.”

Peter went to hand her the teddy bear and the roses. “You know what you should name him?“ Peter asked rhetorically. “What?” She asked with a smile on her face, smelling the flowers.

“Spider-Man.” He said with a smirk on his face, “So that I’m always with you.” Y/N chuckled, examining the bear. “I think it suits him.” She mimicked his smirk, leaning in to kiss the real Spider-Man

Short Stuff

Summary: Y/N has problems reaching the handlebar on the train so she finds another suitable way to stay upright.

AN: i’m sorry this isn’t inclusive ahsjasj but this was such a cute idea i couldn’t help it  :( also i’m short as fuck if you didn’t know so this is a dream

Peter Parker x Reader

// Masterlist //


Originally posted by tomshollandss

My foot tapped along to the beat of the music rushing through my ears. People around me were either on their phone or talking to someone as we waited for the train to arrive. I shoved my hands into my pockets to warm them up from the chill of the wind.

Eventually, the train arrived but I soon found that it was more crowded than usual. All the poles that I usually held onto were occupied and the only things left were the handlebars up above. Which I was too short to grab hold of.

Keep reading

Now I’ve Got You In My Arms

Pairing: Richie Tozier/ Eddie Kaspbrak

Warnings: hickeys, lots of hickey talk, implications of oral sex, implied top!eddie, a lot of fluff sorry

they are 18

word count: 2,726

@delicateloser @killerxqueer @richiietozierr

THANK YOU @tastes-like-cherry-coke FOR BEING MY BETA

AO3 Link

Eddie sucks in a breath when he watches Richie slide on a clean shirt, his back muscles flexing. He shudders and shakes away the thoughts because, Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie Tozier are not gay, okay? Especially not together. Just sometimes they kiss and give each other hickeys when they’re alone. (They don’t admit to anyone they’re from each other, but they wear their bruises proudly.) (Okay, so they’re a little gay.) (They’re hella gay.)


It’s just another day in Derry. The Losers are in the hallway grouping up before their classes start. Richie and Eddie are running late. Again.

Just as the warning bell sounds, the two are rushing in toward their friends.

“Where have you guys been?” Stan asks, his eyes immediately adverting to Eddie’s neck, “And what the hell is that?”  

“Richie’s truck wouldn’t start,” Eddie said, initially ignoring Stan’s question before he covers his neck, “Yes, shut up, it’s exactly what it looks like.”

“From who?”

Eddie side-eyes Richie nervously, “S-some girl.. I went out last night.”

“Out?” Bill asks.

“Yeah..” Eddie trails off, remembering the night before.

He and Richie were both shirtless, Eddie in his lap, slowly moving himself around, moaning loudly as Richie attacked his neck like the leech he is.

“Eddie,” Bev calls out while dramatically waving her hand in front of Eddie’s face, “You good? You spaced out for a minute there.”

“Yeah, m’fine. I’ll see you guys at lunch.” Eddie turns and walks away in the opposite direction.

“Not gonna kiss your best friend goodbye?” Richie laughs when Eddie flips him off without turning around.

“Is it me or did Eddie seem really off when he responded to our questions?” Mike asks as the group watched the smallest boy go.

“Maybe it’s because he got fucking mauled last night. Did you see the size of those hickeys?” Ben makes a face and chuckles with Bill.

Richie awkwardly scratches the back of his neck and it must be his lucky day, because before his uncomfortable stance could be sensed by the group the second bell rings, “Yeeaaahh.. I’ll catch you guys later..”

After Richie leaves, the group disbands.


Two periods later, Eddie is in science when his phone vibrates on the desk. He slides it between two books, trying not to get caught checking it.

Richie: what’re you doing  [9:56AM]

Eddie rolls his eyes and types back, ‘im in science. cant skip today.’  [9:57AM]

Richie: you dont even kno what i was gonna ask  [10:01AM]

Eddie: was it that?  [10:01AM]

Richie: ok yeah but this time its different  [10:04AM]

Eddie’s mouth turns into a frown. Different? How? Everytime he skips with Richie they always go get fast food together and only sometimes he convinces Eddie to smoke with him.

Eddie: what do you mean?  [10:06AM]

Within seconds he gets a message back, but this time it’s a picture attachment. He opens it, almost regretting he did (he really doesn’t), eyes widening. Richie had taken a picture of himself- only showing his mouth and below. He’s biting his lip and- Eddie slams his phone down when he sees it- Richie has a hand down his jeans. Eddie’s face is flushed red.

“Mr. Kaspbrak, are you okay?” His teacher turns around from the chalkboard, shooting him a worried glance.

“Yes, fine. Can I use the restroom?”

“Sign out, please.”

Eddie does quickly and nearly runs out of the classroom. He unlocks his phone, Richie’s contact still up, and types out a blatant, ‘where the fuck are you’

Richie: downstairs bathroom, near the music department  [10:12AM]

Eddie narrows his eyes and walks down a flight of steps, turning a few corners, before attempting to pull open the bathroom door. It’s locked. That bastard fucking planned this.

“Open the door, asshole.”

The lock clicks, and the second it does, Eddie is pushing himself through the doorway, locking it again. He faces Richie.

“You’re such a little shit. You know that?”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Richie challenges.

Eddie shoves him against the sink, “I shouldn’t do anything about it- you’re practically begging me to.”

Richie smiles cheekily, “Hm. I am.”

Eddie pulls Richie’s head back by his hair, lips immediately attaching to his neck, sucking hard. He has his other hand on the boy’s hip, tucking his fingers into the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head, throwing it on the counter. He marks up Richie’s entire chest.

“Enough marks, I look like a fucking cheetah.”

Eddie gives him one more on his hip just to spite him. He stands back up, cupping his cheek, leaning in to kiss him on the mouth, but isn’t surprised when Richie doesn’t let him. Richie doesn’t do mouth kisses. He thinks back to a few weeks ago when they were sitting in Eddie’s room when he first tried to kiss him.

“No,” Richie had said quietly, “Too intimate. No kissing.”

But Eddie still wants to kiss Richie. No homo, of course, because that’s gay and Eddie Kaspbrak is not gay.

Those thoughts are interrupted when Richie flips him to the counter, kissing down his neck softly, taking off his shirt.

“You don’t always have to be in control, Eddie,” He whispers against the smaller brunettes pale skin.

“I know, but I want to. I like it.”

“Let’s change that..” Richie kneels down, unbuttoning his jeans, shoving the clothing to his ankles.

“Richie-” Eddie tries to protest, but cuts himself off. His eyes flutter to the back of his head and brings one hand to his mouth to bite his wrist, and the other one to pull on Richie’s hair because good god.


The next time The Losers meet up again is at lunch. Everyone but Eddie is there.

“Hey-hey, you guuuys,” Bev sings, setting her tray down. “Anybody want to trade their french fries for my tater tots?”

“T-They’re the same thing,” Bill tells her.

“You’re a fake friend. Everyone knows it’s about the texture.”

Ben rolls his eyes, “Nuh uh, it tastes all the same. You’re so weird.”

“No, you both are weird. Texture is everything, it-”

“I’ll trade with you, Bev.” Stan speaks up. “I understand.”

“At least someone d-”

Mike cuts her off when he sees Richie parading over, bruises covering his neck, “Holy shit. You guys. Horton spots a hoe.”

“That’s not the correct quote.” Richie says while narrowing his eyes behind his glasses.

“Look at this, kids! What do we have here?” Ben pokes one of the many hickeys. Richie hisses in pain.

“Whoever gave you those must have been fucking rough. I mean damn, you’re wincing like a bitch. They’re so purple they’re almost black,“ Mike said with a small laugh before digging into his fries.

“You look like a cheetah.” Ben laughs.

“I told him that.” Richie mutters. If they heard him, they don’t say anything.

“W-Why did you let someone give you all of those i-if it h-hurts? And in s-school?”

“Because, my dear Billy,” Richie slings an arm over Bill’s shoulders, “At the time it felt fucking amazing.” He ignores Bill’s second question, but it’s just his luck that Eddie walks over just as he kisses and tells. Richie winks at him.

“Hey, Ed. You missed it. Richie was just telling us about his new lover,” Bev says, her voice filled with a tone salty enough to season McDonald’s fries.

“Excuse me,” Richie sputters, “You guys were pestering me about my hickeys- I said nothing about a lover.”

“Yeah, because there’s so many,” Ben says, reaching to poke at them again but reviving a slap on the wrist from Richie.

“You should see his chest.” Eddie tells them absentmindedly.

Richie shoots him a look, but it’s too late.

“There’s hickeys there, too? Damn, Richie.. Wait- Eddie, how do you know that?” Bev asks, almost knowingly, that salty tone almost tripled.

Eddie panics, “We have gym together.”

They don’t have gym together.

Mike changes the topic for Eddie’s sake, “Hey, are you gonna eat lunch, Richie?”

Richie looks at Eddie, “Nah, I ate earlier.”

Eddie’s face turns a bright red.


Eddie lays on Richie’s chest, tracing patterns onto his stomach. The other boy had fallen asleep minutes after Eddie snuck into his room. He’s been playing with his hair for merely an hour and his hand is getting tired. He retreats it slowly, resting it on Richie’s cheek, rubbing his freckled skin softly. He pauses his movements, suddenly extremely interested in what his lips would feel like, pressed onto the other boy’s. He doesn’t stop himself from leaning into Richie’s space.

Eddie places his lips onto his friend’s, cautiously, not trying to wake him. He pulls back only to do it again, however, this time he was not so lucky.

Richie’s breath hitches, and his eyes open. He sees Eddie hovering over him, and judging by how close he was, he realizes what he was doing. He sits up abruptly, letting the sheets fall from his body, and Eddie detangle from him. Richie searches Eddie’s eyes, unsure of what he could be thinking.

Eddie tries to speak but Richie touches his face and he closes his mouth.

Richie grabs Eddie by the neck, dragging him closer. His lips ghost over the smaller boys, before pressing his hickey-littered chest to Eddie’s, and parting his lips with his own. It’s not needy, surprisingly. That’s all the atmosphere has been between them, recently. Richie lets himself lay back down, not breaking their kiss.

Eddie gets the hint and crawls on top of him, mouths never leaving each other’s. It’s slow and open-mouthed and really, really messy. But it’s great. Fucking fantastic, actually.

The two kiss lazily until they fall asleep, Eddie still on top of Richie.


“Rise and shine, princess.”

A pillow comes in contact with Eddie’s face. “Did you know that you doing that could have like, killed me?”

“What? Me, kill you? I’d never, Eds.” Richie leans down, kissing him gently.

Oh, okay, so that’s a thing now.

Eddie sucks in a breath when he watches Richie slide on a clean shirt, his back muscles flexing. He shudders and shakes away the thoughts because, Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie Tozier are not gay, okay? Especially not together. Just sometimes they kiss and give each other hickeys when they’re alone. (They don’t admit to anyone they’re from each other, but they wear their bruises proudly.) (Okay, so they’re a little gay.) (They’re hella gay.)

“I don’t want to go to school,” Eddie groans and throws his head back onto the pillow.

“You have to, bubba. C’mon, up, up, up.” Richie pats his legs.

“Don’t have clean clothes,” Eddie says.

“You can wear some of mine.”

Eddie picks out a hoodie (it smells like Richie) and a pair of basketball shorts (Richie’s jeans are too long for him- curse that long ass bitch).

They brush their teeth together quickly before heading out.

It takes a few minutes for Richie’s truck to start. They end up having the neighbor help him jump it.

“Think we’re late?” Eddie asks.

“Nah, we should be fine. If not, we could skip first.”

Eddie catches the wiggle of his eyebrow. “You’re fucking disgusting.”

Richie grabs Eddie’s hand, raising it to his mouth, and presses a soft kiss to it. “Kidding, babe.”

Eddie’s heart soars.


“Well if it isn’t Richie and Eddie, almost late. As usual.” Stan gives them a look.

“My truck wouldn’t start this morning, again.”

“Hey, aren’t those Richie’s clothes?” Ben points out.

“Yeah,” Eddie shrugs, “I stayed over last night and I didn’t have any extra clothes with me.”

“Isn’t that s-sweet.”

“Yeah, sure.” Richie rolls his eyes at Bill’s snickering.

After the warning bell goes off, Richie and Eddie had never left The Loser’s so quickly.

Despite Eddie’s whines, they spend all of first period making out in the bathroom.

“You’ve never wanted to kiss me before,” Eddie says into Richie’s mouth.

Richie pulls back, “Mhm, I was missing out, obviously.” He connects their lips back together, weaving a hand into his hair, nudges his head into an easier angle to work with. Richie has his tongue shoved so far down his throat, Eddie feels as if he could choke (not that he’d complain).

But here he was, that feeling coming back again. Eddie groans, pulling away.

Richie notices and trails butterfly kisses down Eddie’s neck, making sure to kiss all of his hickeys.

“R-Richie..”

“Mmm?”

“S-Stop.. Stop.”

Richie jerks back immediately, his heart about to leap from his chest, “Did I hurt you? What’s wrong?”

“We can’t keep doing this if we aren’t going to address the elephant in the room.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t.. Don’t act so incredulous, Rich.”

“I’m not, I-”

“We can’t keep fooling around if we can’t discuss.. Us.”

Richie swallows and avoids eye contact.

“Look at me.. Look at me, damn it.”

The older boy does as he’s told.

“Richie.. I-  I can’t do this unless.. Unless we can be more. I want more, I want all of it. I want to go on cute dates with you, and I want to hold your hand. I want to kiss you in public. Hell, I want to kiss you all the time. I want you. I want all of this, because I have fallen head over heals in love with you, Richie Tozier.”

Richie stares in shock as his best friend confesses this to him.

“Please, say something..”

Richie is too speechless. Yet the second he tries to, Eddie is backing away. “Forget it. I-I’m sorry.”

Which means, the next few days are really awkward. Eddie ignores Richie in school. He doesn’t go visit him in the middle of the night, and he locks his window so Richie can’t, either.

Eddie has been trying to eat his lunch as quick as possible and get the fuck out of there before Richie spots him.

Today he was not that lucky.

Just as he is throwing his trash away, he turns and bumps into none other than the boy he was avoiding.

“Hey,” Richie grabs at his arm.

“Let go.”

“We.. need to talk.”

“Oh, we already did. Well, I did.” Eddie pulls out of his grip. Richie watches him leave.

“Eddie Kaspbrak!” He calls out. When he doesn’t turn around, he sits on the seat next to Bill.

“W-What did you d-do?”

“Eddie is in love with me.” Richie states.

“Whaaat? Nooo,” Stan said without looking up from his textbook, his voice filled with sarcasm.

“Wait, so you guys knew and didn’t tell me?”

“Not our place.” Ben says, also without looking up.

“Yeah, plus we didn’t know what you guys were doing. You two have been out boning god knows who, because you both are stupid.”

Mike is clueless, Richie thinks.

“You guys.. Eddie and I have been.. Um.. hooking up with each other for the last few months now.. But, we finally kissed. On the mouth. Just a few days ago. And he doesn’t think I want him as.. As my boyfriend. But I do! I just was shocked to even say anything when he told me. Now he wants nothing to do with me.”

His friends are surprised by that (all except Stan), because they didn’t actually think they were with each other like that.

“You fuckass.” Bev rolls her eyes. “Eddie has been leaving school early, so if you go now.. You might be able to catch him.”

Richie has never run so fast in his life, and, obviously, The Losers needed to see this. They’re having trouble keeping up.

Richie is standing in the bed of his truck when he sees Eddie walking in the opposite direction.

“Eddie Kaspbrak!”

This time Eddie turns to look at him. The students around him are looking, too. He rolls his eyes and walks back to him. “What are you doing?”

“I want it too, Eds! I want more, I want all of it. I want to take you on those cute dates and I want to hold your hand and kiss you in public, in private, all the time. I, too, am in love. More specifically, in love with you, Eddie Kaspbrak. I want to give you so much more.. But I think you’ll have to be my boyfriend first.” Richie hops down from his truck and reaches out for Eddie’s face, “What do you say, bug?”

Eddie nods, his eyes brimming with tears he tried to will away, “Took you long enough,” and lets Richie kiss him into oblivion. “I’m so in love with you.”

“And I you.” Richie leans back in, capturing Eddie’s lips in his own, with every ounce of energy he has inside of him. There are stars behind his eyes and honestly, Richie never wants to leave the presence of Eddie’s arms.

Borrowed Time

The series where Harry is mute

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio


Y/n never went back home. Instead, she spends winter break in the confines of Harry’s apartment—wrapped up in between his bedsheets to keep warm.

The usually cold and brutal winter that always made their skin numb is now warm to them—skin always accompanied by one another’s and feeling more than ever before. And with the mix of never ending company and the feel of the music that always seems to be playing in his apartment, they couldn’t have asked for a better way to start off their relationship.

They never do anything extravagant—never do anything that could take time away from one another. It’s in their simplicity do they find a sense of comfort throughout the festive season. They feel happiest in their own little world—away from everything and everyone, just focusing on them being together without any distractions.

With being so consumed by one another, they’ve learned more about each other than ever before—spending most days watching their favorite movies and baking new recipes they found in Harry’s favorite Christmas cookbook and spending the nights cuddled up against one another as Y/n somehow finds new things to talk about.

Each day, they fall in love with each other all over again. It’s as if their hearts unravel and trap each other in—giving them no means of escape, but neither of them want to.

Whenever she spends the night at his apartment, Harry has to spend nearly an hour each morning just to fight her from getting out of bed. It’s become a routine, Harry having to pull her from the edge of the bed so that he can cradle her back in his arms while she giggles and mumbles some excuses he doesn’t have the energy to listen to.

He just really, really, really loves the feel of her first thing in the morning, especially when the brutal feel of the blistering winds finds its way to his apartment. She’s much warmer than usual and her eyes are brighter and always glistened against the sun. Her lips, too—they are always so much fuller somehow that even in his mild awareness, he finds himself kissing them before he finally lets her slip away from the comfort of the sheets.

But this morning—this morning is different.

After a Christmas night filled with passion and inexperienced intimacy, Harry really doesn’t want to let her go. He’d much rather feel her uncovered body up against his all morning—soaking each other up and holding one another until the sun sets into the night.

It just sounds so right, to keep each other near and close after giving each other their last bit of innocence. Everything they had to offer one another was taken and used to make them whole, so that’s how they should be—together and whole for as long as they possibly can.

But when Harry feels Y/n begin to stir her way out of his arms, he knows she has very different plans.

And he’s just not having it.

He whimpers in his slumbered state, pulling her back against his chest with eyes half-lidded and breathing still steady. He’s holding onto her like never before, refusing to feel her side of the bed empty. He needs her, her, her, anywhere and everywhere as long as it’s with him. And despite having every bit of her last night, he hasn’t gotten enough and he needs her more.

She giggles softly against his neck, gingerly kissing the exposed skin as her fingers run along his jaw. She can already feel him falling back asleep from her touch, a content sigh leaving his lips at their closeness.

“Love, I gotta get up. Y’know me, can’t stay in bed once I’m awake.”

He groans as he shakes his head, somehow filling up the smallest of empty spaces between them and tucking his head into her shoulder. His nose is right up against her skin and he can smell her usual scent—vanilla and lavender from her usual body wash but much more filthy than usual.

She giggles again when she feels his bottom lip poke at her shoulder, her fingers reaching to his hair as she combs through it.

“Oh, none of that, H.” She tisks, thumbing the very exaggerated pout on his lips. “I’ll be right downstairs, won’t be going anywhere far.”

He rolls his body off of her, his back hitting against the mattress with a whine. His eyes remain closed but there’s a very noticeable furrow between his brows, and Y/n begins to wonder what he’s so worried about.

She frowns down at him, observing the rise of his goosebumps from the morning cold on his bare chest. It looks empty and lifeless without her head upon it, and though his body is no stranger to her, there’s something about it that seems much more inviting and she yearns to keep it closer than ever.

And she gets it—she gets his exaggerated whining and the worry in his eyes. After everything that happened to them the night before, he can’t leave her—he can't—and that’s exactly what she’s doing to him, even if it’s only a floor away.

Almost as if to reassure him, she goes with the feel of her heart and decides to spend the next couple hours of the freezing morning right beside him.


Harry loves watching Y/n in her most natural hours.

Her chest and elbows are leaning against the surface of the kitchen counter, one hand holding a mug of coffee while the other flips the pages of her favorite poetry book. Her upper body is clad with Harry’s favorite sweatshirt—ending right at the end of her underwear—leaving her legs exposed and on full display for all of Harry to see.

Despite her hair fully knotted and having an overall disheveled look to her, Harry decides that she looks best this way—in a way nobody other than him has gotten the chance to see—as if she was made for his eyes only.

And he has never seen such a beautiful sight in his life as she looks at him with the softest and most delicate of eyes, a small smile resting on her lips at his presence. Every bit of her looks inviting—like a place of comfort Harry could forever shield himself in.

She’s become so much more than his girlfriend—so much more than someone to call his own—she’s become his muse and his home, his haven and everything in between.

“You always look at me with longing even when I’m right here with you.”

He blinks at her, watching as her cheeks flush with pink under the watch of his amused eyes, loving how easily tranced he becomes in her.

She’s never been confident in herself. Ever since she was a little girl, she used her friendliness to somehow distract people from what she truly felt on the inside. She never truly touched base with her insecurities and never wanted to, so she always found ways to push the most damaging thoughts in the back of her head.

But Harry changed everything. He made her feel beautiful and loved in every way possible, she almost doesn’t understand how he could have so much of that love in him—especially for her. From the way he holds her all throughout the night to the small kisses and gestures whenever he has the chance, she feels it everywhere and she almost feels it in herself.

His sheepish smile confirms her statement, knowing fully that there will never be a moment he doesn’t want her, no matter where she is.

He walks slowly over to her, the smile never fading from his lips and the blush creeping back to Y/n’s cheeks as she turns her body to stretch her arms out at him. It’s the smallest moments like this that make them grateful for the kind of love they share—together.

He presses his lips to hers tenderly when he feels her fingers run across his stomach, his own fingers pushing the material of his sweatshirt up towards her breasts so that he can brush against the swell of them.

“Beautiful.” He whispers, quickly returning back to her lips as they softly release a whimper from the detachment.

She tastes so good—a mix of bitter and sweet from her coffee, leaving his mouth wanting more and more with each passing second. And what was supposed to be innocent turned to lust before they knew it—their movements much more haste and impatient.

In the midst of their desperation, Harry pushes her hips further against the edge of the counter, fingers digging into her skin as his mouth parts open with hers. They both moan into one another, completely consumed by the feeling of their relentless hands and feverish kisses.

Her hands are against his stomach, rubbing along his torso when he hitches her legs around his waist, leaving Harry in control of whatever it is that’s unfolding. Her squeal turns into a moan when his hips collide with hers, the friction making her head spin and body yearn for more.

He feels her hands creep toward the waistband of his sweatpants while his hands bundle up the sweatshirt over her breasts so that they’re fully exposed to him—revealing the most delicate parts of her.

And right as his lips attach to the valley of them, the ringing of the telephone breaks them from their moment.

“H—Harry, the phone.” Y/n gasps.

But he shows no sign of stopping when his teeth sink into an already bruised hickie from the night before, leaving her with shaking fingers between his hair and withering from the soreness. And he really can’t stop, because she feels like no other and she’s so addicting in every way possible. He wants her all to himself.

The answering machine almost dissolves into pure background noise for the both of them, too caught up in the moment.

“Hi, Harry, it’s your mum.”

Only five words and Harry feels the air being knocked right out of his lungs—seizing all his movements and thoughts as Y/n is left completely confused and panting upon the kitchen counter.

"I know it’s been a while and a lot has ended quite messy, but your father does miss you and well—we all miss you, Harry. We would really love for you to come over for dinner tonight as a late Christmas celebration. You don’t have to, but we’ll have an extra seat for you. And—uh—I love you so much. I wish you the best. Please call me soon.”

It’s as if the world around him is spinning faster than ever before—his brain overwhelmed with scrambled thoughts and ears ringing from the anxiety.

There would have been nothing to prepare him for this moment. He never thought he’d ever see his father again—much less be invited back over to his house after everything that’s happened. It’s been so long, he genuinely thought it was over—he thought all of the pain and fear was over, but his biggest nightmare is coming to life and he feels sick to his stomach.

His father is why he’s like this—mute and anxious in social situations. If his dad hadn’t repeatedly torn him down for never being good enough—hadn’t made him believe nobody would ever talk to a little shy boy—he would have probably gained the confidence to speak the more he matured.

But because his father shunned him for being shy and never making any friends, Harry was terrified of what people would think of him if he ever did make friends. Because if his own father didn’t love him, how could anybody else?

Y/n notices the tears in his eyes and his shallow breathing, which she’s quick to mend when her hands reach up to his cheeks. They’re hot and flushed, but all for the wrong reasons.

She frowns, lips peppering small kisses along his face in an attempt to bring him back to her. She doesn’t know much—or really anything—about Harry’s family life; all she knows is that she has never seen a picture of them in his house or any validation that he ever truly had one.

But as she catches the glimpse of fear in his eyes and the small quivering of his lips, he knows very well that there must have been something that went wrong. And even if she doesn’t know what it is that he went through, she knows that if he decides to do this or not, she’ll be right there with him.

“You’re scared.” She whispers, thumbs rubbing against his cheeks softly. “What is it you’re afraid of, baby? Talk to me, please.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, his lips pursing together as loose tears fall from his eyes.

He’s never talked about his family problems and because all of this has happened so quickly, his words get trapped in his throat. To genuinely talk about his family and come to terms with his emotions seems all too much for him, especially when it’s hard for him to speak in the first place.

Y/n clicks her tongue while shaking her head softly, wrapping her around his neck as he nests his cheek into her shoulder. His muscles instantly relax in her arms and has a sense of clarity in her comfort, but there’s still an undeniable thumping in his chest that just can’t seem to go away.

“You don’t have to talk about this, love, but maybe this will be good for you. You know, to test the waters with your family. Maybe this could help you in the long run.”

And he wants to believe her—he really, really fucking wants to believe her—but he knows he can’t. Anywhere in his father’s path is detrimental to Harry’s social anxiety and he knows it’ll only make this worse for him in the long run.

“Y/n.” Harry groans, detaching her arms from his neck so that he can stand properly. His teeth are grit and eyes are distant—looking anywhere but her own and he swallows thickly around his words. “There’s a reason I don’t talk to anybody.”

His words are cracked and desperate—like a plea for Y/n to understand that this is different, that there will never be a day he’ll be able to face his problems. There have been too many times he’s found his way back and he always walks away with a damaged heart.

Y/n watches the way his fingers fiddle around one another and how he can’t stand still, it’s like watching the battle in Harry’s head and watching him fall apart from it.

And no matter how much she loves him now—the way he is now, even without much speaking—she doesn’t want to watch him suffer for the rest of his life. He’s the most undeserving man, he deserves the world and she knows he does.

His heart is nothing but pure and damaged—in need of mending and love. It’s the best part of him, really. It’s what brought them together and she feels the need to protect it at all costs.

He doesn’t feel it, though. He doesn’t feel what his heart has to offer and doesn’t see how it makes him so strong. He only sees himself as a ruin—a lost cause with nothing left to fight for, and he doesn’t deserve it. After what he’s been through, she needs him to understand that he is so much more than he thinks he is.

Because he is—he really is—no matter what he believes.

She holds his head in her hands to distract him from his consuming thoughts. His eyes shift in her gaze as he lets out a small breath.

“I just think it’ll be best to try again. I know—I see how hard it is for you to live the way that you do and I want to be here for you through everything. Things could be different this time—things could actually end well and you might be able to push through this. Because I know you, Harry, more than anybody else right now and I know you can push through this.”

She presses her forehead against his with a sigh leaving her lips, her thumbs running along his knuckles.

“And if there is any point you feel uncomfortable or upset, we can walk right out and leave. Just know that I will be there for you no matter what, okay? Just asking for you to try.”

It’s because she sounds so sure of herself that Harry actually agrees to go to the dinner. He knows that if it were a matter of him going alone, he would never even consider it. But knowing she is going to be right by his side—holding his hand through it all—maybe he doesn’t have to be so scared.

Maybe, it’ll actually be different this time.


It’s not different.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, it’s really not any different than he expected it to be.

Upon their arrival, Harry’s mum and sister nearly fainted from seeing him at the front door. They thought their invitation would go dismissed, like the way Harry’s ignored them for the past three years. But looking at him for the first time in what felt like forever, they were nothing short of thrilled.

And to make it even better, he brought a girl. Harry was holding her hand tightly, keeping her tucked right into his side so that he could feel her with every step he took.

Anne and Gemma swore they had never seen something so heartwarming in their life—to the point where tears sprung from their eyes and arms flinging around their bodies. Y/n didn’t even have to introduce herself properly for them to love and approve of her, anybody who gets Harry to open up—in any way possible—is enough for them.

He was calm when it was just the four of them, Harry watching Y/n hit it off with his family so effortlessly. He noticed the fondness in all their eyes and this was how he wanted it to be forever.

But once they sat down for dinner, Harry knew something was about to happen.

His father didn’t acknowledge neither him nor Y/n in the slightest. Instead, he acted as if they weren’t there and only carried conversations with the rest of his family. And Harry wasn’t sure if he preferred it that way or not—wasn’t sure if he’d rather have his father at least notice him and hate him or have his father neglect him.

Y/n was trying to make the best out of the situation and he could tell. She found her way to the conversations even if his father didn’t respond to her, and still remained her perky self while doing so. She seemed unfazed through it all, almost like she didn’t feel the overwhelming amount of tension that surrounded the room.

She does it for him, though. She knew that if she showed just how uncomfortable his father was making her—he’d never be able to survive this dinner. She had to play strong enough for his sake.

But now that dinner has passed by and all that’s left are empty plates of food and mindless mingling, Harry feels nothing short of uncomfortable and misplaced under his father’s glare. It’s as if he’s waiting for Harry to speak out in the conversation, or do much of anything to make his presence known.

Y/n can see the soft shaking of Harry’s head and can feel the sweat on his palms with each passing second—just waiting for the end of the night so that they can go home and be alone at last.

“You know, Y/n, I never thought Harry would have a girlfriend.”

It’s the first time tonight his father spoke to Y/n directly, making the conversation she was having with Gemma come to a pause as she looked over at him with confusion. There’s a small pout on her lips as she tilts her head in question, almost unsure as to what he was implying. He has no expression on his face, only a small scoff and disapproving look in his eyes.

“How so? He’s lovely, any girl would be very lucky to have him. I’m just happy it’s me who does.”

Her fingers squeeze his thigh under the tablecloth; as if to tell him that there’s nothing to worry about. If his father wants to try hard enough to get to Harry, he has to try to get through her, first.

His father grumbles, his eyes shifting away from hers. The tenseness is his body seems to lighten, though, when an almost sadistic laugh falls from his lips—finding whatever he’s thinking quite amusing and entertaining.

“Isn’t it disheartening? Doesn’t it get boring, to be with a little boy who can’t even get his mouth to open? You seem to be a very intelligent, mature lady—I can tell by the way you talk. Don’t you think it’s a man’s purpose to be with somebody like you?”

Harry squeezes his eyes shut, trying to silence the sudden voices in his head and focus on the feel of Y/n’s tightening hand.

All the childhood fights, all the times Harry had crawled underneath his bed during the night to get away from it all, and all the times Harry almost had the guts to speak up for himself only to be shut down from his father are all replaying in Harry’s head.

The anxiety creeps to his bones and in his muscles, straining him of all that’s left of his strength and leaving him with nothing but a shaking body and lack of control. Every part of him that felt alive before all of this is slowly dying at the seems—ready to be ripped out on his father’s account.

In any other situation, Y/n would have kept her mouth shut if it meant getting the support and approval of Harry’s family. But this—the way he’s talking about Harry as if he’s not right next to her, disrespecting him for something beyond his control is just not okay with her.

She’d rather stand up for the man she loves and believes in instead of watching him suffer in silence—the way his mum and sister are—with fear.

“Harry may not be a man of many words, but he’s the best thing I’ve got. There is so much more to him than his voice. There is so much more to him than you will ever know because you decided to be a shit father and give up on him without giving him a chance. He holds so much more potential than you could ever see, and that’s what’s wrong here. Harry’s not the problem, him being mute is not the problem, it’s you. Because why is it that everybody else can accept him and love him for who he is besides you?!”

The aftermath of her words silences everything around them. Nobody moves, nobody dares makes a sound besides their harsh breathing, because there could be something that makes either one of them snap and nobody wants to be the one to do so.

Y/n’s hands are in fists upon the table, eyes locked with his in fury and jaw so tight she almost doesn’t even look like herself. She’s turned into an entirely different woman with just the thought of Harry getting into harm’s way.

And although Harry really wants to show her appreciation for her words, he’s too panicked that he’s going to die from not being able to fucking breathe.

The silence is overwhelming, but Y/n is not giving up on him—on Harry. He had to live through this for far too long and she’s not allowing it anymore. He deserves better than this treatment—deserves better than to be looked down upon by somebody who’s supposed to be his provider.

“He’s the best thing you’ve got, yeah?”

His father is playing with his bottom lip, eyes narrowed and eyes in the same unpleasant manner as before. His voice is softer, though, more understanding than before and they both don’t know what to expect out of the conversation.

Y/n nods without hesitation, “He is.”

He watches as Y/n looks more determined and positive as ever, not a doubt or a trace of a lie in her features.

She means it—with her whole heart—she means it and she’ll never let anybody make her go back on her word. And she doesn’t have to say it twice, because Harry knows she’s genuine when she says it.

“You must have a very pathetic life, then.”

Harry’s eyes don’t move from their trance on the table—his body doesn’t make a move under his words. This is just how it always ends, and he just don’t know why he still fucking comes back here every goddamn time.

His throat is tight and his eyes are filled with tears. His skin is full of sweat and he swears his heart is beating much faster than it should. And even though he’s experienced this all before, knowing Y/n is being belittled by his father too makes it worse.

"We’re done here.” Y/n says sternly, grabbing ahold of Harry’s hand.

Y/n could have stood up for Harry much more, but she knew that if she started an even bigger brawl than what was already unfolding, Harry wouldn’t have been able to handle it.

He’s already drained of color and crying silently within his lost mind, and she’s absolutely terrified for his health.

She’s nearly dragging him out the door, Harry occasionally tripping over his own feet as he’s being drowned with the voices and the thumping in his chest. The world around him seems to be drowning and he can’t keep up with it all.

He just can’t.

“You can’t only keep her around because she’s the only one that’ll fight your battles for you, Harry! It’s only a matter of time before she realizes that you have nothing to offer her! You can’t give her anything with the way you are. You’re worthless!”

Before he could spew any more insults in Harry’s way, Y/n shuts the door in his face.


Harry knows his father was right.

In the long run, he doesn’t have much to offer her. He can’t be the boyfriend that she deserves to have.

He can’t be the boyfriend that can remind her of how much she’s loved or cared for. He can’t be the boyfriend to sing her to sleep whenever she can’t, or be the boyfriend to say his vows at their wedding for all to hear. He can’t be the boyfriend that—God forbid something were to happen to her—can ask for somebody to help her, or be the boyfriend to sway her family’s heart.

He can’t be anything to her besides somebody that she can sleep with at night and wake up to in the morning. Because that’s all it will be, and she’ll get so tired of being the one to be the only one talking to the other.

He’s nothing in her life, and that’s exactly why he can’t look at her anymore.

“Can you please just say something to me, Harry? I need to know why you’re upset with me or else we can never work through this.”

But how can they work through this when he can’t talk to her the way she wants him to?

Instead of answering right away, Harry presses on the gas pedal even harder than before. In the mix of all his emotions—anger, frustration, sad, and absolutely terrified—the only proper thought that can retain in Harry’s mind is dropping Y/n back to her apartment so that she doesn’t have to keep torturing herself with him.

The longer he feels her presence next to him, the more he realizes that he can’t love her the way she deserves to be loved—even if he really, really, really does love her with every ounce of his being.

“It was only—“ He swallows thickly, “It was only a matter of time before this was going to happen, Y/n.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she turns her head over to Harry, who has his lips pursed in a straight line while his eyes remain on the road.

There’s something different in him, now—something unreadable in his expressions and it’s something she’s never seen before. He seems broken somehow, like a man who’s been damaged one too many times that he’s become numb—emotionless with nothing left to feel.

“Before what was going to happen, Harry?”

She has an idea about what his words meant, but she doesn’t want to believe it. Not coming from him—not coming from the man who’s shown her nothing but how much love he has for her. There’s no way he could be doing this to her. He can’t do this to her.

“We were never going to last, Y/n. This was over long ago, we’re just on borrowed time.”

Borrowed time.

The sound of it leaves an unusually disturbing churn in Y/n’s stomach and a foul taste in her mouth. She feels as though Harry is taking his own hand and digging into Y/n’s chest, just so that he can grab ahold of Y/n’s heart and rip it to shreds himself.

Her hand subconsciously grabs onto the handle of the car door, eyes glistening with tears and lungs not daring to breathe. The air—instead of it being filled with their love—is now thicker and colder than ever.

She’s never been so confused—so lead on and so scared as to what is happening to them. They were supposed to make this last, they were supposed to make each other happy for the rest of their lives. He promised her he would, too—promised her nothing but love and trust in him.

But what is happening to them?

“How long have you thought that?”

She was tentative to ask, but she just has to know. She has to know if she’s done everything she’s done for nothing or if it actually held some sort of purpose at the time.

She’s terrified beyond words to find out the answer.

“Before or after you decided to sleep with me?”

Harry doesn’t want to make it seem like he never wanted this—never wanted her. He doesn’t want to make her think that he went through all that he did with her just to expect them to break up so soon. Because he didn’t, he never did. He would have never let her give him her virginity if he knew all of this was going to happen.

He loves her too much to do that to her, but also loves her enough to set her free.

So he decides to not answer her because not saying anything at all is easier for him than saying something he doesn’t mean. And he knows he will if it means letting her go and letting her move onto bigger and better things.

And it’s in his silence and twitch of his eyes does she find his answer.

“So you didn’t mean what you said last night. That we fit perfectly—that it’s like we’re meant to be? Or were they just words to you?”

A sob rips from inside of her when he still gives her nothing. She has never felt so hurt before—has never felt so betrayed. And suddenly, her skin feels dirty—sickened by what he’s done to her and how she could have been so stupid as to let it happen.

She feels it now, too. She feels the way his hands touched her that night, the way his lips kissed her that night, the way his hips rutted against hers and she feels so fucking filthy—used and used and used just for his own personal gain.

“Stop the car.”

It’s a weak demand, but Harry is pained to hear it. He has to hold himself back from comforting her and saying how terribly sorry he is for lying to her the way he is. But it’s just easier this way.

“I said stop the fucking car, Harry!”

Her yelling makes him flinch, and without hesitation makes him pull over to the side of the road. And the second he does so, he knows he shouldn’t have because he’d never be able to live with himself if he let Y/n walk in the cold alone, especially at night.

And right as he’s about to turn back, the sound of her hysteria makes his stop everything he’s doing. Her sobs are relentless in her hands and the thickest of tears fall from Harry’s eyes when he looks at the damage he’s done.

She looks helpless and utterly destroyed—he would have never thought of doing this to her if he’d known this is what would come out of it.

His heart is breaking at the sight of her like this.

As if on instinct, Harry reaches his hand over to her shoulder in an attempt to keep her calm. And even when they’re so close, they have never felt more emotionally distant than they do right now.

“No! Don’t touch me! Don’t you ever touch me again!”

She isn’t sure if she means it or not, but the devastating look Harry gives her at her words proves that he knows she did.

The second his touch leaves hers, he feels them falling apart.

It really is over now.

She’s never felt more pathetic and humiliated in her life. Everything she thought was so real ended up being one of the biggest lies she’s ever lived. He had her fooled for months now and she had not a single clue—but she guesses that’s what happens when she falls in love too quickly.

She feels easy.

She swallows her cries as she opens the car door, not knowing where the hell she is or where the hell she’s going, but knowing that no matter where she ends up, it’ll be much better than being with him. 

“I hate you. I never want to see you again, not after this. Not after all that you’ve done to me.”

Harry’s eyes widen at her words, mouth falling open and a gasp falling from his lips. The reality of her words hits him with so much force that he genuinely feels every last bit of him fall apart.

And it’s when she walks away from him—from his life—that he breaks.

He chokes out a sob as his fingers grip the steering wheel, eyes as wide as ever and mouth not daring to shut.

Everything hurts. Every bone in his body feels like it’s breaking and every muscle feels like they’re tearing apart. It hurts so fucking much and Harry can’t stop crying, throwing his head back against the car seat as his hand hits the steering wheel in the midst of his hysteria.

She hates him.

But it’s better this way.

Scarecrow Boyfriend

I’ve been wanting to do a Scarecrow bf for a long time! In fact one of my first requests from @tenefix​ was for a scarecrow! So this has been a super long time coming. Enjoy!

A long time again, when you were little, your brothers played a horrible joke on you. One day they took you through the cornfield on the tractor. Everything seemed fine until they asked you to go pick some to take home. When you got off the tractor you reached for the nearest stalk. They told you to go further, the best corn was that way. You did so, going deep inside and picking several ears. When you went back, they were gone.

Keep reading

||Strip Club|| The Pack Imagine

{Requested: No}

I wrote this while listening to a song called, “ I Luv This Shit” by August Alsina so if you’d like, you can listen to that while reading this.


(Reader’s P.O.V)

“(Y/N) this is the fifth pack meeting you miss.“Scott muttered, clearly upset.
“I know Scott, things just haven’t been easy lately."I said into my phone.
”(Y/N), if you need us or our help just tell us and we’ll be on our way-“
"No! I mean, no, I can take care of it. Sorry for missing the pack meeting again Scott, I’m truly sorry."I apologized as I parked my car in an almost full parking lot.
"It’s fine, hope things go better (Y/N)."Scott mumbled before hanging up.
I sighed before shoving my phone into my purse. I hopped out of my car and raced into back of the building where all the employees entered. I was greeted by a lot of kind smiles and waves. I immediately made a beeline for my dressing room and sat on my chair. Looking at the lit up mirror in front of me I sighed. Since my makeup had already been done, I only had to put a wig on and a red masquerade mask. I stripped myself off my comfortable clothes and put my red strapped bra that looked almost like a harness for my boobs. I then put on my red strapped thong before putting on my black sheer robe.
"Sorry Scott."I muttered as I put my red fishnet stockings and red high heels.
I really wished I could be with the pack instead of here.
(Liam’s P.O.V)
"I for one think we should leave her alone, I trust (Y/N)."Lydia spoke up.
"Lydia everyone trusted Theo and he tried to tear the pack apart-”
“I’m right here Stiles."Theo reminded him.
"I can see that Theo, I’m not blind."Stiles answered, rolling his eyes.
"You didn’t trust Theo but you do trust (Y/N)."Malia reminded him.
"Okay but I trust her but I don’t believe that she’s dealing with something that makes her miss like five pack meetings."Stiles explained.
"Well I believe (Y/N), she’s never given me a reason not to."I spoke up.
"Of course you do Liam, you have a crush on her-”
“So does Theo-”
“Do not."Theo growled, glaring at me.
"So does Scott."I blurted out.
"Liam do you just assume everyone has a crush on her because you do?"Scott asked me.
"You said she was gorgeous-”
“Okay she’s extremely good looking but that doesn’t mean I like her-”
“Scott of course you like her, everyone in this room does. I bet Malia even likes her!"Stiles yelled.
"Yeah I like (Y/N), she’s cool."Malia shrugged.
"I don’t think she likes her the way we do-”
“You mean you do."Theo argued.
"Okay guys can we stop arguing over this? We get it, (Y/N)’s hot but is she telling us the truth?"Stiles said.
"I say we find out where she is when she’s not at our pack meetings."Stiles suggested.
"I think it’s a good plan."Malia mumbled.
"Guys, (Y/N) said she could handle it."Lydia objected.
I pulled out my phone and went on Snapchat, surely I could find her with the new snap map feature.
"I’m down, this pack meeting is boring."Theo spoke up.
"Who invited you again?"Stiles asked, making Theo shoot him a glare.
"She’s at a strip club."I blurted out loud.
"What, how do you know?"Stiles asked.
"Snapchat, the new snap map feature shows that she’s at a strip club."I answered.
"She said she was dealing with something?"Scott muttered, confused.
"Obviously she’s dealing with some hormonal issues, she’s probably at the male strip club-”
“Actually it’s a stripper with female performers."I said, watching the snapchats from people at the strip club.
"To the jeep!"Stiles yelled.
We all groaned before entering Stiles jeep, everyone but Lydia. She insisted on leaving (Y/N) alone because she believed (Y/N) a good reason to be at a strip club. Stiles scoffed and told her that she was blinded by love for her friend. Stiles raced to the strip club and I wasn’t even sure if it was because he wanted to prove himself right or see strippers. We parked near the strip club and walked over to the front entrance.
"I.D please."The two security guards said as we tried entering.
"Oh yeah… dammit I think I might have left mine in my jacket at home."Stiles muttered, patting his pants.
"Huh, nice try kid-”
“Oh for gods sake."Malia muttered before her and Theo quickly knocked out the bodyguards.
"Now lets go in."Malia said as she walked in.
We all followed after her, the building was full of intoxicated men. The music was blasting through the huge stereo system while the dimly lit stage was empty.
"Now to find (Y/N)!"Stiles yelled over the blaring music.
"Malia, you go to-Malia?"Stiles asked as we realized she had disappeared into the crowd.
We all looked around until we spotted her at the bar where she was already drinking.
"Lia, I thought we went over this! We can’t get drunk!"Scott yelled as he pushed past the crowd to get to Malia.
"Okay since they’re gone, we’ll-Theo?"Stiles asked as Theo looked at one stripper who was walking in his direction.
"No, no, no. We’re here to find (Y/N), not get distracted."Stiles spat, pulling Theo closer to us.
"Even if the girls here are gorgeous…"Stiles whispered, gazing at another stripper who passed by.
"Stiles!"I yelled, snapping him out of his trance.
"Remember (Y/N), you know the only reason why we’re here?"I asked.
"Right, (Y/N)."Stiles mumbled.
Suddenly the lights on the stage started to shine brightly as they moved to the center of the stage. A girl with a black sheer robe, red stockings, red high heels, and a red masquerade mask walked out. She seductively removed her robe which made everyone in the room whistle at her. The girl swayed her hips to the beat of the music so perfectly I felt myself harden. No Liam, you can’t get hard over a random girl. I looked at Stiles and Theo who were watching her hungrily. She made her way to the pole and started grinding on the pole. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a guy in the back corner jacking off in the dark. I gagged at the guy before looking back at the girl. She climbed up the pole and wrapped her legs around the top of the pole as soon as she got there. She let go of the pole with her hands and let her head and body hang. The guys in the front row were throwing a bunch of money when suddenly I spotted Malia sneakingly grabbing the bills as Scott stared up at the girl on stage. Malia grinned as the girl slid slowly down the pole, making her throw a few of the bills at the girl. Malia was also enjoying the show. The girl arched her back against the pole before sliding down on it again. She grabbed the pole with one hand as she took a step in the other direction before she began to spin on the pole. I looked over to see Stiles already throwing dollar bills at the girl.
"So much for finding (Y/N).’‘I muttered.
I turned to find Theo but instead found him near Stiles also throwing dollar bills, most likely being Stiles money. The girl’s mouth fell open as she looked at Stiles and Theo. She seemed tense for a few seconds as she looked through the crowd, she found Scott and Malia and finally her eyes landed on me. She seemed to be extremely tense now. I gave her a thumbs up, hoping it would make her less tense. I didn’t know why she was tense in the first place but I didn’t mind. She smiled at me before continuing to dance. She started twerking in front of Scott, making Scott and Malia throw bills at her. Malia was screaming with delight, clearly enjoying herself. She looked over at Stiles who seemed upset since he had thrown all his money, not thinking clearly. She smirked before walking over to him. She held out her hand to him, making Stiles’ eyes widen. She pulled him up and dragged him to a chair that had a rope dangling above the chair. She spread Stiles legs apart and sat down on him, grinding onto him as she grabbed his hands and placed them on her ass. Stiles face was filled with pure bliss. The crowd was crazy now. The girl proceeded to give him a lap dance which made a huge bulge appear in Stiles pants. I looked down at mine and instantly covered it. As soon as she finished with Stiles lap dance, she pulled on the rope which dropped water onto them. She grabbed his face and gave him a rough kiss as Stiles squeezed her ass. She guided Stiles back to the crowd before she proceeded to dance seductively. She dropped to her knees and flipped her hair side to side before leaning back, giving the crowd a breathtaking view of her red thong. She leaned back up and slid to over so we could now she her side. She proceeded to grind on the floor before letting her hands roam her body. She stopped after a few seconds and reached behind her back. Suddenly her bra was loose, everyone screamed and whistled, making her smirk. She stood back up, slowly starting to take it off when the lights shut off out of nowhere.
"Give it up for Rose!"I heard someone yell.
A roar of clapping and whistling made me cover my sensitive ears. Out of the corner of my eyes I see Rose walk through the crowd when suddenly Theo called her over. I never noticed when Theo had decided to the coach right next to me. Rose smiled and walked over to him.
"How much for a lap dance?"He asked as he grabbed his wallet.
"20 dollars handsome."She answered, running her hands down his biceps.
Theo grinned up at her, handing her a 20 dollar bill. She winked at him before taking the money from him and stuffing it in her bra. She straddled his lap and began grinding on him. She leaned towards him, his face in her breast as she softly bit his ear. She began to leave a trail of soft wet kisses on his neck all the way down to his chest. Theo let a moan leave his lips as she grinded rougher into him. Theo was surprised when she pressed her lips against his, but he quickly kissed back. I could see their tongues going into each other’s mouths.
"I don’t think this is a lap dance kitten."Theo whispered as they pulled apart.
"Well sorry I couldn’t help myself, you’re insanely good looking."She whispered, making Theo smirk.
"So you want the lap dance instead of this?"She asked.
"No, no, I think I like this better."Theo answered, his hands finding her ass.
She grinned down at him before she continued. I swear I was throbbing now.
"Any sign of (Y/N)?"Stiles asked as he walked over to me.
"No not yet- Jesus Stiles cover your bulge."I muttered.
"Why don’t you cover yours!"Stiles yelled, making me cover mine.
Stiles and I looked around but couldn’t seem to find her. After what seemed like an eternity, we went back tot he pack. We found Rose sitting on Scott’s lap as Scott kissed her neck.
"I thought strippers weren’t allowed to be touched?"Scott asked Rose.
"We only let a few people if we want them to touch us."She answered.
Scott smirked before his hand found cupped one of her boobs. They started to make out roughly which made me feel slightly jealous.
"Liam you have to get a lap dance, she gave me and Scott one and it was amazing!"Malia yelled, grinning widely.
"Uh I didn’t bring money-”
“Here!"Malia said, shoving a 20 dollar bill in my face.
"I’ve got a lot of money now, people kept throwing it at the stage so I figured I’d keep it if they didn’t want it."Malia explained.
I shook my head, laughing at her. I watched as Rose pulled away from Scott, both breathing heavily.
"God you’re so hot."Scott growled.
"Uh Rose,could I um…. could I-”
“Rose give this boy the ride of his life!"Malia yelled as she pulled her off of Scott and sat her onto of me.
"Well aren’t you a snack."She whispered as she admired me.
"Your voice sounds so familiar."I said, making her eyes widen.
"I get that a lot."She muttered.
She ran her hands down my chest and started to leave a hickey on my neck. I tensed up, hoping she wouldn’t realize how quickly my neck would heal. She grabbed my hands and made me squeeze her ass.
"What do you want baby?"She asked.
I was about to answer but instead I smashed my lips against hers. She started to grind on me as she kissed back. I moaned into the steamy kiss.
"God Liam…"She whispered when we pulled apart.
The way my name left her red rosy lips, my eyes widened. I quickly removed her masquerade mask off.
”(Y/N)?“I asked in disbelief.
"Hi Liam…"She mumbled, grinning shyly.
Scott, Stiles, Malia, and Theo’s jaws dropped.
”(Y/N)?“They asked.
"Hi guys…"She whispered, turning to face them.
I wrapped my arms around her which made her heartbeat slow down.
"That’s why we couldn’t find you!"Stiles yelled.
"You tried finding me?”(Y/N) asked.
“Stiles wanted to prove he was right that you might be lying to us which I think he might be right about."Theo answered, staring at (Y/N) with lust filled eyes.
I looked at everyone and noticed their eyes were filled with lust too.
"I didn’t think you were dealing with something so bad that it would make you miss pack meetings-”
“Actually my parents got fired and can’t seem to find any jobs right now. I got this job so I can help them pay bills and rent."She spoke up.
"So you were wrong Stiles."I said, making Stiles glare at me.
"That’s why I’ve been spending almost every night here.”(Y/N) stated.
“Also Liam, move your phone-”(Y/N) started to say but stopped as she realized I had my phone in my hands.
“Oh."She whispered.
"When’s your shift over?’'Scott asked.
"Uh 11:30-”
“It’s 12:32."I said.
"Well I’m off now."She shrugged.
"Well there’s still a pack meeting you need to come to."Stiles spoke up.
"I guess we better get going.”(Y/N) said getting up from my lap.
After a few minutes, (Y/N) walked back to us. She was now in clothes most girls would use to run.
“Alright let’s go.”
(Y/N)’s P.O.V)
“Wow my mom’s still not home."Scott muttered as we walked into his house.
Our eyes landed on Lydia who was watching a movie.
"Oh hey (Y/N)."She greeted, smiling.
I greeted her back and threw myself at the couch. Liam and Theo raced to the couch, both sitting next to me.
"So did you figure out why she was not at our pack meetings?"Lydia asked.
"Oh yeah, yeah, she’s dealing with money issues."Stiles mumbled, trying not to give my secret away.
”(Y/N)’s a stripper.“Malia blurted out, plopping down next to Lydia.
Lydia’s eyes widened as she turned to me.
"Are you the strippers who sleep with clients?"Lydia asked.
"No, I’m a stripper not a prostitute-”
“Then why do you have hickeys on your neck?"She asked.
We all turned to look at Scott who looked like a deer caught in headlights.
"Hey mom!"Scott yelled nervously as the door opened.
"Hey- Jesus Christ (Y/N) what the hell happened to your neck?"Melissa asked, bewildered.
"Uhhh-”
“(Y/N)’s a stripper!"Malia yelled, munching on popcorn.
"Oh and Scott was so close to having sex with her but she’s a stripper so she can’t-”
“Lia!"Scott shrieked, covering her mouth.
"You know what, I had a long day at work and I really don’t want to deal with whatever is going on right now so just please keep it down."Melissa muttered as walked past us.
We all looked at each other awkwardly before Malia had enough of the silence.
”(Y/N)’s a stripper named Rose!“Malia yelled, happily.
"Malia!"We all yelled at her.
"I said keep it down!"Melissa screamed.
"Malia that’s something you can’t tell the whole world about-”
“What’s wrong with being a stripper?"Malia asked.
"Nothing it’s just-”
“Malia just be quiet so we don’t make Melissa kick us out."Lydia snapped.
Suddenly the tv started blaring a loud screeching noise.
"That’s it!"Melissa screamed.
Scott jumped of his feet and yelled for us to run.
"Why?"Liam asked as I held onto him.
"That’s why!"Scot yelled as he pointed at Melissa.
Melissa appeared at the bottom of the stairs with a steel metal bat.
"Save the stripper!"Malia yelled as she picked me up and ran with me outside.- Thank you for taking time out of your day to read this, I hope you enjoyed it! Have a wonderful day/night!

attention | jjk.
  • summary: “It’s like she got my attention for just a second, just one glance and that’s all it took. And now she’s all I can think about.”
  • genre: fluff, angst and some smut because it’s college! au.
  • words: 10,260 words.
  • warnings: drinking mention. smoking mention. vomit mention.
  • authors note: based loosely on charlie puth’s song attention. i had lots of fun writing this! sorry it took me so long to post again, but i’ve been trying for a long time. i hope you have as fun reading it as i did writing it. also jiimin is highly featured in this fic. - mo

Originally posted by jjks

Keep reading

inevitable realizations ☼ peter parker

summary : peter’s always been a little bit in love with you, it just took a difficult night and warm, ever comforting words for him to come to the realization. intelligent he may be, but he’s a clueless teenage boy before anything else.

word count : 2.5k

   It was eleven o’clock at night and, as per usual, you were neglecting the sleep you desperately needed in order to finish up the notes on your assigned reading novel that were due in just a few short hours. You were never one to finish tasks, especially menial ones such as homework, in a timely fashion. This was just the tip of the iceberg. You briefly took off your glasses, rubbing your tired eyes that were now struggling to focus on the words in front of you properly. When you slipped them back over your nose, glancing up toward your bedroom window that lead out to the fire escape, you saw the familiar face of your best friend peering in through the glass in a way that was only slightly creepy. 

   Peter knocked rapidly on the glass, waving at you in the typical, hyperactive way that he always had about him. You jumped off your bed, reaching out to shut your bedroom door before walking over to the bay window and unlocking it. A rush of cold winter air nipped at your face the minute it swung open and Peter Parker shoved himself through. Visits from him in this particular manner were common, especially after a day’s work of fighting crime throughout various parts of New York, but not usually this late- and never without a text to alert you first.  

    “You must be freezing,” you shivered, closing the window quickly. “How long were you out there?” Making yourself comfortable on your bed once again, you propped open your book, ready to force him into helping you study. He didn’t answer. Instead, he drew his sweatshirt closer to his body, sliding to the floor beside your bed and leaning his head against the soft duvet. His curls were sticking up in every direction when he pulled his hood away, his cheeks and the tip of his nose a brilliant shade of red, but not from the bitter chill that was sweeping mercilessly over Queens. 

   You heard a distinct sniff, then another, then another. His breathing, already shallow from the frantic climbing he had done to reach your fire escape, became even more labored. He pulled his knees to his chest to hide his face. He felt you press yourself against him, your arms around his shoulders and across his chest before he could pull away in embarrassment. Your glasses creaked when they pushed too far into his shoulder. Neither of you moved. You clung to him and he sat there, silently shaking and leaning into your embrace as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. 

   “Hey, hey, shh, shh, Peter, you’re okay,” you whispered, rubbing his back. “I’ve got you, I promise. You’ve gotta breathe, though, okay?” He was always ashamed of his sensitivity, but he couldn’t help it. He was a sensitive boy and he cried easily and had an awful lot of anxiety sometimes. Today was one of those days, with good reason. He nodded stiffly, maneuvering himself to hug you back, face pressed into your shoulder this time. 

   “It’s… the anniversary,” he said, his voice broken. “One year.” Hollow. “One year since- since Ben. One year tomorrow.” 

   He pulled away, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his oversized sweatshirt. There were traces of tears still making their way down his cheeks, sliding across his nose and down to his lips. He tried to rub them away, too, but you caught his wrist in your hand. 

   “You’re not wrong or less of a dude for crying, Peter.” The way you looked at him, so lovely and caring and worried, made his heart cry out for the safety of your embrace again. “Were you at the cemetery?” You matched his stance and rested the side of your cheek on your knee, still carefully studying his face. 

   “Yeah,” he exhaled, placing his chin in his palm. “I’m gonna go again in the morning with May. Gonna miss school. I- I probably should’ve, um, stayed with her tonight but I…” he trailed off, “I needed you.” He said it as he said most things to you, with his soft tone of voice and his hesitance that made him, him. He never really noticed until now. 

   “What are best friends for, right?”  

    “Yeah. Best friends.” 

    Ignoring the odd way those two words slipped out of his mouth, you said, “I’m sorry, Peter. I know you loved Uncle Ben so much. I’m sorry, you don’t deserve this. You and May don’t deserve this.” You reached out to him, your hand gripping his without an ounce of doubt. You had small hands and he didn’t but he felt a thousand times better when yours found his. “I’m always here for you. Do you wanna talk about it?” 

   Surprisingly, he shook his head adamantly. “No, no.” He squeezed your hand. “I kind of, um, just wanna go to bed. Crying like a little baby really tires a guy out, you know?” He gave a weak laugh, a tiny grin, and you smiled right back at him before pulling him to his feet. “Can I use the bathroom?” He needed to wash the sticky feeling of dry tears off his face, rub the sadness out of his eyes. He wanted to be strong for May when he got back in the morning. 

   “Of course, just be quiet. Mom and dad are asleep.” You padded across your rug and opened your door a crack, holding it in a specific way so that it wouldn’t creak when you let Peter through. He gave you a grateful squeeze of the hand again before disappearing into the bathroom. 

    He splashed water on his face, staring up at his reflection, at the water dripping off his eyelashes and the curling ends of the hair that was plastered to his forehead. He rubbed at his face and took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to cry anymore. You had sufficiently comforted him for the night. Peter could breathe again. 

   Peter quietly walked back down the hallway and into your bedroom, watching for a second as you pulled spare blankets down from a shelf in your closet and arranged them on your bay window. You had cleared your bed of your school supplies and had left the covers open for Peter to crawl into without a second though. Which he did. Your covers smelled quite lovely, actually. It was the scent of your perfume that you wore often enough for him to recognize the scent, and he wanted to fall asleep under the inviting covers that were laid out for him. Then, he saw you sit atop your window, about to lie down. 

   “Wait, why are you doing that?” He got out of bed and took your hand for the third time that night, growing accustomed to the feeling of it. He pulled you over to your bed. “You’re not sleeping on a stupid window. That’s ridiculous. I’ll take the window.” He spun you around and ignored the protestant noise you made, gripping your shoulders and sitting you down on the bed. 

   “I’m not letting you take the window, either!” You argued, yanking him back down on the bed. He huffed, glaring at you in a teasing manner. “C’mon, just take the bed. You need it more than I do.” His glare dropped to his lap, an idea rolling around in his head. “What?” 

   “Y/N, how about we just both take the bed?” He said finally, lifting his eyes back to yours. He wasn’t sure what made him say it, why he didn’t just take the floor like he probably should have, but the words were out there in the world and there wasn’t a way to take them back now. You bit your lip, then shrugged, scooting over. 

   “It is big enough for the two of us.” You turned away from him, turning off your lamp and getting under the covers. You heard Peter slide in next to you, but your back was toward him until he poked you sharply. “What’s wrong, Peter?” 

   “Can you- um, well-” 

   You flipped over on your side, just barely making out his face in the darkness of your room. “Do you want me to cuddle you?” Though you said in a teasing sort of tone, you were silently quite pleased when he mumbled a reluctant yes. You moved closer, one arm going around his waist and the other underneath him. Your head was on his chest, listening to the resilient beating of his heart. He placed his chin atop your head. He focused on the sound of your steady breaths until you were sleeping peacefully beside him. 

    He was so grateful for you- the person who stood by his side throughout anything and everything. You, so strong and beautiful and brave and comforting in his times of distress. You, who never seemed to waver in your loyalty to him. You, the very picture of loveliness and a girl who he’d very much like to- 

   His eyes flew open, and he almost jumped away from you. He didn’t want to risk you awakening, though, so he stayed put, freaking out internally rather than externally the way he was prone to doing. He had been thinking of kissing you. That was what he was going to say. Kiss. The thought had come so simply to his brain it was like he already thought the same thing for years. Maybe he had. It wasn’t like he was blind. You were a stunning girl, even if you didn’t think so yourself, you were his best friend, you were practically perfect and Peter would be an idiot to not adore you the way that he did. 

   Adore, adore, adore. Oh, boy. Peter glanced down at you, sleeping in his arms, and confirmed what he had so stupidly never noticed before. His infinitesimal, brief affection for Liz Allen had absolutely nothing on his all encompassing love for you. 


   Peter bid you goodbye that morning at six thirty sharp, before either of your parents had woken up for work. Before he slipped out your window and into the cracks early morning sunlight, he had pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to your cheek. It was only the briefest touch of his lips to your face, but you had held your face, right in that spot, for practically the entire day. Ned had questioned why, but you brushed him off with an answer of exhaustion. 

   The day after that, Peter returned to school, dragging Ned off to the side as soon as he stepped off the train platform. He had waited for the other boy purposely, seeking advice. 

   “I have a huge, gigantic, terrible awful problem right now, Ned!” He exclaimed as soon as he saw him, throwing his hands up in the air. “I need help.” 

   “Psychiatric help,” Michelle supplied, appearing out of nowhere as she usually did before walking down the path to school. 

   Ned shrugged. “She’s not wrong.” 

   Peter, frantic, seized Ned’s shoulders and shook him. “This is not a roast Peter session! This a cry for help! Help me, Ned Leeds!” 

   “Am I your only hope?” Peter wanted to scream. 

   “This isn’t the time for Star Wars puns, either!” Not waiting for Ned to quip back that every time was Star Wars time, Peter said, loudly, “I’m in love with Y/N and I don’t know what to do!” He ran his hands in his hair, wanting to pull it out. “I just- I just realized the other night! Everything just kind of, like, clicked and I’ve been so stupid. I should’ve realized it before, but of course I didn’t and now I have no idea what to do!” 

   “Wait, dude, you seriously have never noticed this before? Are you kidding me? Peter, you’re supposed to be the genius of the school. I feel let down.” Ned shook his head solemnly. “Dude, everyone knows you love her. Even Flash. That’s why he picks on her all the time. He likes pissing you off and nothing gets under your skin more than someone messing with Y/N. She’s the first one you told about being Spider-Man, you go to her for all your problems, you practically pee yourself racing to be her partner for almost everything- not science because science is our subject, but still. I figured you knew you loved her and just didn’t wanna talk about it because she’s out of your league.” 

   “Hey! I am not-” He stopped. “So what if I am? That’s not even the point. The point is that I love her. Me realizing it was inevitable, even if it took me like eighty years to get there. Doesn’t matter. I’ve gotta tell her, right?”

   “You totally should,” Ned encouraged. “She’s definitely in love with you, too.” 

    Hopefully, Peter grinned. “You really think so?” 

    “Anything’s possible!” 

    “The reassurance you give me is suffocating, Ned. Stop before I die.” 

    That day in gym class, Ned and Peter went off to the side to pretend they were doing stretches while you sat with Michelle and conversed about literature for the first half of the period. Your conversation, however, soon led off into other directions. 

    “Hey, MJ, have you ever… I don’t know, been in love?” 

    Michelle raised her eyebrows. “Only with crushing the patriarchy. Why? Have you?” The intuitive girl already knew your answer, of course, but she was invested in you and Peter’s love story and was desperate to hear the truth from your own lips. 

   You played with the hem of your shirt, thinking. Peter and Ned casually inched closer, having been listening to the conversation for quite sometime now. They were unapologetically nosy. “I think I am.” 

   “With who?” Peter clasped his hands together, silently pleading with the universe to grant him this one wish. I promise, universe, I’ll never ask for anything ever again in my whole life if you just let this girl love me back I swear I’ll be the best Spider-Man there ever was and I’ll protect New York until I’m eighty five just please oh my god please- 

   “With Peter.” 

   The gasp he let out was involuntary, but you didn’t hear him. He turned to Ned, his expression of shock, as well as elation, mirroring Peter’s own. Suddenly, Ned stood, shouting for the entire gym class to hear, “Y/N! Peter loves you too!” You looked up, Michelle’s happy and knowing smirk going unnoticed by you because the only thing you could focus on was Peter and what Ned had just declared. 

   The gym fell silent, every student turning to stare at you and Peter. You were frozen in shock up until the bell rang and everyone filed out quickly, leaving you and Peter alone. 

   “Did he mean it?” You asked, your sneakers squeaking against the floor as you closed the distance between you and Peter, your head tilted to meet his. 

   “It’s the truest thing anyone has ever said.” His lips met yours, and the slant of his mouth against your own was a feeling you could definitely come to adore more than you already did after just one kiss. 

It’s All Fun and Games

Hey guys! Fred Weasley is just so wonderful, but all the games might get to be a bit much. I hope you guys like it! 

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader 

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing


Sometimes when it came to being friends with and dating one of the two biggest pranksters at Hogwarts was fun, other times, it caused you a significant amount of grief. Today was one of the less fun days. The twins had decided to play the ‘which on is which’ game with you. Generally, you didn’t have many issues telling them apart despite the fact they were identical. They acted very differently.

“Hey (Y/N)!” George yelled, tossing an arm around your shoulders. 

“Hey, George,” You said, smiling happily. Suddenly, the redhead stopped, looking confused. 

“No, mate, I’m Fred. He’s George,” He said, pointing at the other boy. You sighed. 

“I know you’re not.” George and his twin stood side by side with identical confused faces. You snorted a soft laugh. They exchanged looks before looking back at you with mirrored smirks. 

“Are you sure?” They asked. You nodded as you continued towards the common room. Both of them trailed after you, one on either side; each of them had leaned an arm on your shoulders. Upon reaching the portrait hole, you spit out the password automatically. The Fat Lady gave you a kind smile which you reciprocated, still ignoring the twins at your sides. 

“How exactly can you–” Fred started. 

“be so sure?” George finished. You laughed, setting your bag down by a chair. 

“I just know, guys,” You said, turning back to them. 

“Which one am I?” Fred asked, grinning at you. 

“You are my dearest Fred Weasley,” You said, pecking his lips. A smirk curled on their faces.

“Wrong,” They chirped in sync. 

“I know I’m right,” You said, taking a seat. The twins kneeled in front of you, trying to keep you playing their game. You just watched as they tried harder to make you wrong. 

“How?” They asked. You snorted. 

“The way you carry yourselves is different. Fred, you’re the more outgoing one. You talk first most of the time. You also tend to be the brains behind a plan while your counterpart is the enabler. George, you’re the more sympathetic one and you carry on a joke. Merlin’s beard, you two, I’m dating Fred and I’ve known you for years,” You giggled. They exchanged another look before disappearing into the boys dorms. This was not going to be good.


The stupid game dragged on for weeks with them only becoming more insistent upon one being the other until you began to avoid both of them. That only lasted so long though. You wanted to be able to kiss Fred again. When you finally saw them again, only one approached you as you ate breakfast in the Great Hall. The way he swaggered up to you, you almost thought it was Fred. Almost. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders again. 

“Hello, love,” He said, pulling you close. Raising an eyebrow, you pulled back. 

“What the hell, George?” You mumbled, shoving another bite of eggs into your mouth. 

“I’m Fred. Honestly, you call yourself my girlfriend. You’re as bad as my mother,” He laughed. You unwrapped his arm from you, looking around for your actual boyfriend.

“No, you aren’t. I can tell because my boyfriend kisses me good morning instead of saying it.” The ginger plastered his hand to his chest looking offended as you continued on with your breakfast. Finally, Fred joined you. 

“Maybe you just need to brush your teeth before I kiss you,” George suggested. 

“I have,” You said, calmly. “Hello, Fred.” It was now that you acknowledged the other redhead to your left. One more reason you knew that it was him. Fred always sat on your left. 

“I’m George, mate,” He said. You rolled your eyes. This game was getting annoying. 

“Would you cut it out? I’m getting really sick of having to explain that I know my boyfriend is my boyfriend.” They just laughed. Your eyebrow twitched in annoyance. 

“Come on, babe. There’s nothing to be ashamed of when our own mother can’t tell us apart,” George said, rubbing your arm. You slammed your fork on your plate angrily. 

“I can tell you apart. You two are just being dicks,” You snapped. Once again they laughed into their breakfast. Just then, an evil thought crossed your mind as you took a drink. Smirking into your goblet, you decided that, if they wanted you to play the game, you’d play it. Wiping the look from your face, you placed your goblet back on the table with a sweet smile. 

“Are you finally coming around?” Fred asked. You nodded with the most apologetic expression you could muster. 

“Yeah. I guess I just can’t tell you apart. I’m sorry,” You said, trying to keep the bubbling laugh down. 

 “Everyone makes mistakes,” Fred said, nudging your shoulder with his own. 

“Yeah, (Y/N), just take our word for it next time,” George said. 

“You are completely right, love,” You said, finishing off your breakfast. Standing, you gathered your things for class, but not before you pressed a kiss to George’s cheek. You watched as Fred flushed lightly with anger. 

“Have fun in Potions,” George said. You smiled, hugging your books to your chest. 

“Thanks, Fred. I’ll see you at lunch,” You chirped, turning to Fred with the same smile you always gave his brother. “Bye George.” 


You played their game for about a week and you could see Fred beginning to lose it. You hadn’t gone as far as kissing George on the lips, but you’d given him all the hugs, satisfied sighs, and special smiles that you generally reserved for your boyfriend. There was also the added bonus of seeing George look as uncomfortable as a person could look. You had only lasted about a day without telling Hermione, who was just as amused by the situation. 

“How long do you think it will be before they lose it?” You asked Hermione as you flipped the page in your book. It was just you two in the common room at the moment. 

“I don’t know. I heard them talking earlier and it doesn’t sound like they’re going to give up any time soon,” She replied, looking up from her book. You bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows. You really wanted your actual boyfriend back. 

“Ugggghhh,” You groaned, “I want Freddie back.” 

“You could always give it up first, you know,” She suggested, knowing full well that losing was not an option for you. You glared lightly at her and she laughed. 

“Don’t even go there,” You giggled. She looked thoughtful for a moment before an evil look crossed her face. That look both terrified and excited you. 

“You could push them into forfeiting,” She said, ominously. You raised an eyebrow. 

“I’m listening.” Hermione leaned with a devilish smile. It only took a few seconds of explaining to reach an understanding. She was telling you to really throw yourself into this. Go as far as Fred would let you go. You ran your fingers through your hair, biting your lip. 

“At the very least, you’d win,” She said. 

“You’re not wrong,” You said, apprehensively. 

“Well, are you going to go through with it?” She asked. You rolled the idea around in your head for a few seconds before making your decision. 

“Yeah. It’s not like it’ll go very far anyway,” You said with a shrug. She laughed, patting you on the shoulder. 


 Fred and George didn’t appear in the common room until a hour or so later, giving you and Hermione a good long time to laugh about your plan. When they walked in, you went silent. Grinning, you waved at Fred, who waved back grumpily. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked. He plopped down on the couch and crossed his arms. 

“Georgie’s just upset because he can’t get himself a girlfriend,” George laughed. You gave a fake pout in Fred’s direction. Glancing at Hermione, she gave you a subtle smile and excused herself to go to bed. 

“Aww, don’t worry. You’ll find someone,” You said, punching him in the arm lightly. He simply gave you a sour look and you moved from his side to George’s lap. 

“(Y/N)?” He asked, reddening slightly. It took everything you had to keep the impending smirk off your face. This was so obviously George. Fred always welcomed you into his lap with a kiss and a good natured joke at his brother’s expense. 

“Yes, love?” You asked, innocently. You batted your eyelashes at him and intertwined your fingers with his.  

“Don’t you think it’s inappropriate to do this in front of my little brother here?” He asked. You giggled sweetly, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. 

“It hasn’t ever bothered you before.” You snuggled into the younger twin, placing the top of your head just under his chin and turning to look at your actual boyfriend. 

Fred had crossed his arms and locked his fudge colored eyes onto the fireplace with an ugly look on his face. Red was creeping up his neck and turning his ears the same shade as his hair the more friendly you got with George. The thought of beating them at their own game made you continue with your antics. This was also basically a guarantee that they’d never play this game with you again. They still hadn’t broken yet. You shrugged internally. You’d just have to push a little further. 

“You know, George, I think there are plenty of girls out there for you. Maybe try someone from the Quidditch team,” You suggested. Fred glared at you from the corner of his eye. 

“Yeah?” He snapped. You nodded, looking as if nothing were wrong. 

“Definitely. Angelina Johnson likes you, I think.” You felt George jump beneath you. 

“Really?” He asked. You glanced back at him with a fake confused look. 

“Is it really that shocking that she’d like your brother?” You asked. He cleared his throat, settling back into the couch and wrapping a hesitant arm around you. 

“Yeah, considering I got all the good looks,” He taunted, weakly. You fought down your smirk again. You yawned, stretching languidly in a way that always drove Fred insane. George swallowed thickly. Their reaction was incredibly similar. 

“I suppose I’d have to agree with you on that. Well, if you don’t mind Georgie, I think I’m going to steal your brother for the night,” You said, winking at an obviously panicking redhead. Fred’s eyes lit up with hellish flames that you’d never seen before, but he didn’t move. 

“I mind,” He grunted. 

“You had something planned?” You set your eyes on George, tipping your head to the side and leaning into him. This was usually the point in which Fred stopped caring if he’d planned something. 

“W-Well, no, but…” He sputtered. Smirking inwardly, you patted yourself on the back for backing them into this corner. The game would be over soon and you would have your Fred back. 

“Then there should be no reason as to why I can’t have him for tonight.” You pulled the uncomfortable twin to his feet. 

“(Y/N),” Fred said. His tone was blank, but his face was twisted in anger that might not have been apparent if you weren’t looking for it. 

“What, George?” You asked. He flinched as you called him by his brother’s name. He didn’t say anything, so you shrugged and began leading George to the exit. Usually, you and Fred would go spend your night in the Room of Requirement. Fred stood up, hands curling into fists. 

“Just wait a minute! You’re not going anywhere with my bird!” Fred growled, crossing the room in three steps and tearing his brother from you. It was now that you couldn’t contain your laughter. It began to bubble and spill from your lips; starting as minor giggles and reaching a total mess of shrieking laughter that you rarely accomplished without the help of the Weasley twins. Both sets of eyes rested on you like you’d lost your marbles. 

“She set us up,” George said, staring at you in disbelief. 

“You bet I did! Dear lord, you should see the looks on your faces!” You cackled. An identical pair of unamused faces looked down at you a tears cascaded down your cheeks from laughing so hard. 

“You did this on purpose?” They asked. You nodded, beginning to catch your breath. 

“What the hell–” 

“– is wrong with you?” They snapped. You snorted another laugh and wiped droplet from your eye. 

“You guys started it,” You pointed out. They shared a look before George nodded at Fred and left the common room, leaving the two of you alone. 

“Can you actually tell us apart?” He asked, coming closer to you. 

“I can.” You watched him as the anger faded from his face, but not his eyes. Not yet anyway. 

“Then what was the point of acting like you couldn’t?” He yelled. You laughed softly, taking his hand in yours. 

“Punishment,” You stated simply. He blinked at you. “Come on, Freddie. You spent weeks torturing me for your own amusement. It’s really only fair that I have my fun too.” 

“You almost shagged my brother to get back at us?” He asked. You shuddered at the thought. 

“God, no, gross. I was just messing with you guys,” You said. Sighing, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with his free hand. 

“This week has been awful,” He grumbled, hugging you close to him. 

“That’s what you get for being a dick,” You laughed. He glanced down at you. 

“Remind me again why the hat didn’t put you in Slytherin.” You patted his cheek, lovingly. 

“Because I knew this really cute redhead who got sorted into Gryffindor and there was no way in hell that I was letting him slip through my fingers,” You said. He held your hips. 

“Who? Me?” He asked, modestly. 

“I was talking about George,” You said. 

“(Y/N),” He said, warningly. You chuckled warmly, pecking his lips once. 

“Only joking, of course it was you.” Smiling, he pulled you up to him so he could give you a proper kiss for the first time in about a month. I’m so glad that I got that stupid game to end, you thought as you fused your lips together. 


“Sorry to interrupt,” George’s voice cut in. You pulled away looking at him. “Does Angelina really–” 

“Yes.” You said. 

“Wicked.”