#purple cat x peter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eiightysixbaby · 1 year ago

Text

i love it loud

word count: 6.5k+

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you get invited to corroded coffin’s halloween party with your best friend chrissy. you don’t anticipate on having much fun, but that changes when you meet eddie…

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. alcohol consumption, a rogue billy tries to hit on reader, use of petnames, use of y/n (like maybe a few times), oral (f receiving), fingering (f), unprotected p in v - he pulls out tho!, brief description of reader’s costume but no mention of body type/etc.

You didn’t want to go to this party. Not really. Your best friend had insisted you come with her, because arriving alone would, in her words, be social suicide. Being invited to Corroded Coffin’s Halloween party was a big deal, she’d said, even though you know she was only invited because she’s been going out with the drummer. Of course he’s going to invite his girlfriend.

You hadn’t even had a plan for a costume, and with only a couple day’s notice you didn’t have the time to prepare something good. The stores were all picked over as far as Halloween costumes go, and so you went with the most basic, half-assed option you could’ve possibly selected.

You’re dressed as a cat.

It feels silly, it feels low-effort and stupid and basic, but here you are with your fluffy tail and soft felt ears, black high heels and whiskers painted on your face. A pink nose to top it all off. You did think you looked good, you had to admit, but it definitely wasn’t the costume you would’ve preferred. You awkwardly adjust your stockings as you step up to the front door of the large house, feeling horrendously out of place.

You glance at Chrissy beside you, her hippie costume bright and colorful - an extreme contrast to your all black attire.

“Okay, just texted Gareth that we’re here,” she says, slipping her phone into her bag. “Don’t look so thrilled,” she says sarcastically, pouting at you.

“Sorry I’m not exactly excited to be at a party where I know no one,” you say.

“You know me and Gareth,” she replies, looking at you like she’s confused.

“I barely know Gareth. And don’t act like the two of you won’t be running off to bang the second you get a chance,” you smile at her, knocking shoulders playfully.

“Listen… his friend Eddie, the lead singer, is super hot. Maybe you’ll get more than you bargained for tonight.”

“I don’t know, Chris. There’s going to be a million girls at this party, do I really want to be another notch on some rockstar’s belt?” you ponder.

She doesn’t get the chance to respond before the front door is swinging open in front of you. The figure on the other side is… Peter Criss. More like, Gareth dressed as Peter Criss. Fully outfitted in leather and silver studs, hair spray painted black with white and black cat makeup on his face. You laugh a little as you take him in, and he shoots you a teasing glare.

“Hey ladies,” he greets, pulling Chrissy in for a quick kiss. “Y/N, I’m so glad you decided to come.”

“You know Chris always gets what she wants,” you reply with a laugh, and he laughs with you, agreeing.

He steps to the side, ushering you both into the large foyer of the house. It’s decked out in Halloween decor; bats on the walls, fake cobwebs, hairy toy spiders with light-up red eyes. There’s orange and purple string lights hung about, and you’re honestly impressed with the detail. The house is clean, aside from the stray cup or plate left behind from the current party guests, and the decorations are carefully placed.

“Holy shit, you guys really did it up for the party,” you say, eyes wandering to every corner.

“Oh yeah, that’s all Eddie. He loves Halloween. It was his idea for us to dress like KISS,” Gareth says with a playful eye roll.

“Don’t complain, you look so good in that outfit…” Chrissy says, trailing a finger down his chest.

“I’ll have to give you the official house tour,” he says to your friend. “You coming too?” he asks you, but you shake your head.

“Think I’ll get myself a drink,” you say, sticking out your thumb in the direction of the kitchen.

“Sounds good. There’s stuff on the counter and a bar out back by the pool, you can go wherever you’d like,” Gareth says with a smile, and it’s genuine. “Make yourself at home, say hey if you see the other guys around! You can’t miss ‘em, they’ll be dressed like me,” he adds, and you laugh, waving them off as Chrissy tells you to text her if you need anything at all.

You wander into the open kitchen, pleased with the selection of liquor that awaits you. If you’re going to be spending the night alone, you might as well get pleasantly drunk, you think to yourself. People are scattered throughout the room, talking with their circles of friends and acquaintances. There’s a couple different punch bowls filled with various concoctions, each one labeled with the contents. You take your pick of the poison, scooping the liquid up with a ladle and filling your cup.

You scrunch your face as you take the first sip, lips pursing as you adjust to the bite of the alcohol. You glance around the kitchen, taking note of even more decorations as you slink into a corner alone. They seem to fill the whole house, seeping into the living room and the dining room, any area that you can see. Gareth had said it was all Eddie’s doing, and you find yourself growing more curious about the man in question. You really didn’t know anything about Corroded Coffin, didn’t care much to do any research, you only knew what Chrissy told you.

You know that Grant, the rhythm guitarist, has rich parents, and that his dad bought the house for the band to live in while they’re recording their album. Chrissy always says Grant’s the nerdiest of the bunch, insanely smart and very friendly. You know that Jeff, the bassist, is apparently a sweetheart, a bit shy but would give you the shirt off of his back, and you know that Eddie…. well, you know that he’s supposedly “super hot”. Other than that, you’re drawing a blank. Chrissy hasn’t said much about him at all, now that you really consider it. Maybe he’s an introvert and doesn’t come around often, or maybe he’s a complete dick. He is a rockstar, after all. And there’s plenty of pretty women in his house right now, so… you can gather a few assumptions, to say the least.

You don’t get much more time to ponder the subject before you hear loud, raucous laughter coming in through the sliding doors to the backyard. Two figures stumble in, but in the dim light you can’t get a good look right away.

“I was made for lovin’ you baaaabyyyyyy!” a voice booms, and you don’t need more confirmation that it comes from another member of the band.

“How many times are you gonna sing that tonight?” the other voice counters, and you finally see two unfamiliar men walking towards the kitchen, dressed like other members of KISS.

The annoyed voice comes from the stand-in Gene Simmons of the evening, a frizzy black wig on his head and the signature makeup on his face, making him stand out. He sticks his tongue out obnoxiously at the other man, eliciting a laugh from him. Your eyes flit over, then, to the taller figure. Your attention is immediately grabbed — he’s intriguing right away and you aren’t quite sure why. Tall, slim, with a head of shaggy hair that diminishes his need for a wig for the costume. He’s dressed like Paul Stanley, a black star around his eye, surrounded by a face otherwise full of white makeup. He’s not wearing a shirt, at all, just a thick black studded collar around his neck and leather pants. Chunky heeled boots are on his feet, making him appear taller than just about everyone else in the room.

And if he’s dressed like the singer of KISS, then you can only assume this is Eddie. The singer of Corroded Coffin.

“Oh fuck off, Jeff. Have a little fun! It’s Hallo-fucking-ween, dude,” presumably-Eddie says, leaning into Jeff’s space.

“Sorry my idea of fun isn’t listening to your drunk ass sing KISS songs, Ed,” Jeff says, and the nickname gives you confirmation that this is, in fact, your guy.

Eddie just so happens to look up in that moment, his eyes falling upon yours unintentionally. He smiles at you, genuinely smiles at you, all while playfully rolling his eyes at Jeff’s comment. You giggle into your plastic cup, feeling like the two of you are the only people in the room for a moment. He gives you a teeny little wave, the slightest wiggle of his fingers, and you feel your heart rate increase as you return it. What is wrong with you? You were going to blame the alcohol, for the time being.

The moment is gone as soon as it came, Eddie’s attention getting redirected. You watch in fascination as they pour drinks for themselves, easily greeting the other partygoers who come up to them, eager to talk to the hosts. There’s a swarm of girls around Eddie in thirty seconds flat, and your heart deflates, much to your own dismay. Why should it bother you? He doesn’t even know you, and you don’t know him. Chrissy’s implication that you might hit it off with Eddie tonight is letting you get too in your own head, you decide, trying to shake it off.

You scoff, watching as a girl dressed like a devil leans on the counter into Eddie’s space, pressing her breasts together as much as she can. Her fake fangs are exposed as she laughs too loud at something he says, her bright red lipstick accentuating her mouth. You want to internally criticize her and her basic costume, before you’re reminded of your imitation of the most basic furry friend to ever grace Halloween.

As if on cue, someone comes up behind you and yanks on your tail, making you jump. Your drink sloshes over the rim of the cup at the sudden motion, splashing against the front of your outfit. You spin on your heel, met with the face of an unfamiliar man, which really isn’t saying much since almost every face here is unfamiliar.

“Can I help you?” you snark, flattening your lips in a straight line.

“Woah, calm down, pussy cat. Don’t have to bring the claws out,” the man says, smirking at you as if he has genuinely no clue why you’re bothered.

He reaches one arm out, flattening his palm against the wall behind you and leaning his weight on it, towering over you. He smells like cigarettes and booze, and you watch as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips.

“If you don’t mind,” you snap. “I really need to go wash the liquor out of my costume. Asshole,” you mutter the last part, ready to make your exit when the stranger grabs your arm.

“Going so soon? I thought we’d make friends,” he smiles at you, blue eyes piercing down at you as you grow wildly more uncomfortable.

“I’ll pass,” you emphasize, stomping the heel of your boot down onto his foot.

He yelps in pain, releasing your arm and allowing you to speed-walk out of the crowded kitchen. You can see various pairs of eyes on you as you scurry out, and you can hear your victim cursing you out through the bass coming through the stereo.

You high-tail it out the back door, heels clicking aggressively on pavement as you push through more people surrounding the pool. You finally stop to calm yourself down when you find a lull in the crowds, a spot where you can be relatively alone. You silently thank yourself that the stranger didn’t follow you, but what you didn’t realize is that someone else had.

You exhale, bringing your drink to your lips and taking a swig. Your now-wet top clings to your skin, aggravating you, but the last thing you want to do is wander back into the house in search of the bathroom.

“H-hey, um, are you alright?” a voice rings out directly behind you.

You jolt just slightly, not expecting company. Turning to face the other person, your eyes first land on those big, black platform boots. Eddie had followed you. Your gaze trails up his figure, leather pants and studded belt and bare torso, until you meet his eyes for the second time this evening.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I saw what happened in there and, uh, to be honest I don’t even know why we keep inviting Hargrove to these things—” Eddie rambles, as if Hargrove is a familiar name to you, as if he’s nervous to be around you — like he isn’t the star-studded host of this party.

“I’m okay,” you reply, cutting off his sentence, smirking a little. “Thanks for checking on me.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I know these parties can get crazy, but… I always want to make sure everyone’s safe,” he says, his gaze softening as he says the last part. “I’m Eddie, by the way,” he introduces, holding out a hand for you to shake.

You immediately notice the big, silver rings adorning many of his fingers, your eyes lingering on them for maybe a second too long before you remember he’s waiting for you. You extend a hand, grasping his and shaking it.

“Y/N,” you reply. “I, uh, I’m here with Chrissy.”

“Oh, you’re Cunningham’s friend!?” he asks, lighting up at that. Excited as he says it as if you’re the celebrity here, not him.

You nod, smiling at him now.

“Damn, and she already ditched you to go screw Gareth, I’m assuming?” he jokes, and you laugh, feeling lighter by the second. Forgetting your less-than-pleasant encounter from moments ago.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” you say sarcastically, smiling wider when he snorts.

There’s a pause, you can feel him staring at you as you take another sip of alcohol. “Well, I’m a little offended she didn’t tell me that she had such a beautiful friend,” he says, and you feel your cheeks grow warm at his forwardness.

You duck your head, avoiding his eyes as your face scrunches in a shy smile. “Ah, there’s the rockstar charm,” you say, loving the sound of his laugh that comes in response.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he playfully asks, cocking his head as he leans forward to meet your gaze.

“How many other girls have you used that line on tonight?” you counter, playful but keeping a safe distance.

“Ouch, sweetheart. You really take me for that much of a player?” he stumbles back, clutching his chest as if he’s been wounded. Your eyes linger maybe too long on the tattoos littering his torso, the slight smattering of hair on his pale skin.

“Well, you are parading around your own party shirtless. Seems like a tool move to me,” you smirk, finishing off your drink with one last sip.

“Darling, you’re dressed like a cat. I don’t think you can come for my costume right now,” he flashes his perfect teeth at you, unable to contain his smile at your banter.

There’s a moment of silence, you staring out across the yard at the bright lights of the city down below, stretching vast and far. Then he speaks up again.

“I mean it. I think you’re really beautiful.”

“Thank you. You’re very pretty,” you say honestly, letting yourself give in to his flirtations.

“Is it the makeup? Am I gonna have to wear this every time I see you now?”

You giggle. “Every time? Are there going to be more times, mister rockstar?”

“I mean, I’d love to take the time to get to know you outside of a party setting, if that’s okay with you,” he smiles bashfully, and you can only assume he’s blushing under all of that makeup.

“Yeah. I think that’s okay with me,” you reply.

Conversation flows easily with Eddie, the less-than- pleasant encounter with the stranger and the spilled alcohol on your shirt long forgotten. He tells you about his life before the band started to make it big, how he always dreamed of being a rockstar. He shyly told you about how he used to parade around his home as a kid, playing his little guitar and singing songs he made up until his uncle was begging him to quiet down and go to bed.

You confess that you really didn’t know much about the band, other than things Chrissy had told you, and you apologize although he tells you it’s absolutely not necessary.

You both end up sitting in the grass side-by-side, talking so much you don’t even remember making the choice to sit, it just happened. There’s a lull in the conversation, his eyes searching yours before glancing down to your lips. He moves just slightly closer, his breath hitting your face with each exhale. You feel yours catch in your throat, anticipating his next move.

You don’t get the chance to see what that move is before the girl in the devil costume from the kitchen approaches. She instantly has her hands on Eddie, grabbing his arm with a red-gloved hand and pulling him to stand. “Eddieeee, come on! You have to come play spin the bottle with us!” she pleads, her voice too whiny to not be part of an act.

“I- uh,” he stumbles, looking at you with an emotion you can’t place.

The girl moves to stand in front of him, putting her hands on his chest now, starting to push him backwards. “Come on, it’s no fun if you don’t play,” she continues, her shrill voice grating in your ears.

You don’t like how close she’s getting, how unafraid she is to be touchy with him. Who even is she? Are they friends? Are they more than friends? She’s pushing him further away from you by the second, not once acknowledging your presence. You scoff, looking to the side, avoiding Eddie’s gaze.

Before Eddie can really do anything, he’s being shoved fully away from you. You don’t see the way he desperately looks to you for an out, simply bothered by the fact that this girl won’t leave him alone.

You wonder if you were right, if he called you beautiful just like he calls every other girl beautiful. You didn’t want to believe it, but, he’s about to go play a game with a bunch of drunk people where the whole point is to kiss each other, so. It’s not looking great for you.

You’d be lying, though, if you said your curiosity wasn’t peaked. You find yourself bored watching partygoers splash around in the pool, and you can’t shove down your internal need to find out what mister rockstar and the devil girl are up to inside. Your feet are carrying you before you can decide against it, leading you back inside, back through the kitchen where you pour yourself another drink, and then to the living room where you find a large group sat in a circle.

You hang back, just slightly, not wanting to make it too obvious that you’re watching the game, even though you aren’t the only one who came to spectate. To be completely honest, the first few spins you witness aren’t very exciting. You don’t know any of these people, so what should it matter to you if they kiss? You’re about to step away when the circle erupts with various ‘Ooooh’s and whistles.

“Come on, Eddie! You gotta do it!” a now very drunk Jeff screams.

To your absolute horror, Eddie had spun the bottle, only for it to land on the little bitch whose name you still don’t know in the devil costume. Eddie looks at the girl, who is very clearly eagerly awaiting a kiss from the singer of Corroded Coffin, but then he looks up at you.

You didn’t think he’d realized you were there, didn’t think he saw you lurking, but he looked at you too pointedly for it to have been an accident.

You swallow, suddenly feeling awkward amongst the silence of the room. Everyone’s watching Eddie, expecting him to get his kiss over with and move on. He stands finally, stepping forward. You almost want to look away, not interested in watching him lock lips with someone that isn’t you. But you can’t look away, not when he bypasses the anonymous girl and heads right for you.

“Um, I’m right here!” she says, her tone snarky and honestly annoying enough to make you want to slap her.

“Yeah, well I’m not kissing you, Tina,” Eddie says. “Spin the bottle. What are we, fourteen?” he asks, eyes still locked on you as he stands merely a step away now.

Your heart thumps in your chest, every bit of your nervous system attuned to him. Your mouth hangs slightly open, not knowing what to do or what to say.

He steps even closer, closing the distance between you. “I want to kiss you, that okay?” he murmurs, letting one hand rest so gently on your waist.

You want to laugh in Tina’s face. You want to point and laugh and rub it in, but that wouldn’t be the appropriate response here. You need to kiss Eddie, sooner rather than later.

You just nod, a smile playing on your lips. He leans his face closer to yours, hovering by your ear to whisper, “I’m sorry, about her. She’s… a friend of a friend who always ends up at our parties. Trust me, I have no interest there.”

The reassurance really isn’t necessary, you barely know Eddie after all, but it’s extremely appreciated. You feel your heart flutter a little, smug and satisfied all in one. And then his lips are on yours, not giving a damn who’s watching, not a care in the world for what anyone might say.

His lips are soft, warm against yours and the way he cradles the back of your head in his hands makes you weak at the knees. Your noses brush before you pull away, and the two of you giggle in unison like you just shared some exciting secret with each other.

Tina is dumbfounded where she sits on the carpet, watching you. You swear steam would be coming out of her ears if this was a cartoon. You give her a little wave and an all-too-fake smile before Eddie grabs your hand to lead you away.

Not a single word is spoken as he pulls you out of the living room, you’re silent until you reach the stairs to go up to the second floor.

“So you really don’t have history with Tina?” you playfully ask, pressing the issue just to be a pain, and he groans.

“Ugh, god, no. Like I said, she always ends up at these things and she’s all over me. But the funny part is, we went to high school together. She bullied the crap outta me,” he explains, and you can’t help but laugh. “Spread some nasty rumors on social media…” he shakes his head, smirking at the thought now.

“Of course,” you roll your eyes, “Now where are you taking me, rockstar?” you grab his waist once you’ve reached the top of the stairs, pulling him closer to you.

“To my room, because there’s no way I can handle any more interruptions tonight,” he says, his hands finding your hips, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment.

Another kiss is ghosted over your lips, open-mouthed and teasing, leaving you chasing after him when he pulls away and starts to walk down the hallway. He opens the dark wood door, gesturing for you to enter first.

The second he’s inside with you, his mouth is on yours, your back pressed to the wall as his hands grip your waist. He fumbles with the light switch behind you, providing a dim glow throughout the room. He wastes no time slipping his tongue past your lips, licking inside of your mouth and groaning when your tongue meets his. Your noses brush and you’re sure his makeup is getting smeared on your face, or vice-versa, and the thought makes you smile into the kiss. His lips work their way down to your jaw, nipping and mouthing at the skin before residing on your neck, sucking till it stings.

You hiss, arching your back into him, hands grabbing at his bare shoulders as your nails dig into the skin.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, hands grabbing your face as he brings you in for another heated kiss.

He starts to walk backwards, guiding you with him towards his bed. His boots are kicked off of his feet carelessly, and you toe off your heels in tandem. He reaches the mattress, falling back onto it and scooting backwards until he’s fully on the bed. You follow his lead, straddling his lap and letting your hands roam his bare chest. He watches you like you’re an ethereal being, eyes big and round and completely full of desire. His hands wrap around to grab your ass beneath the fabric of your skirt, filling his open palms with the soft flesh and squeezing.

Your hands waste no time in finding their way to the zipper of his pants, tugging it down after undoing the button.

“Need these off, Ed,” you say, sounding more whiny than you’d wanted. Your face gets hot at the smirk he gives you in return.

“Oh, so we’re desperate now, huh?” he says, the cocky rockstar demeanor coming out in full-swing. It makes you embarrassingly flustered, your cunt throbbing for him.

All you can do is nod, your hand trailing over the bulge that waits for you beneath fabric.

��Fuck,” he curses under his breath, starting to shimmy his pants down his thighs.

You remove yourself from his lap, letting him undress — your mouth practically watering when his cock springs free and smacks against his stomach. He’s fully naked for you now, given that he already wasn’t wearing a shirt. All that’s left is the studded choker around his neck, and it makes you drool.

“Like what you see, baby?” he asks, a smug little grin on his face as he watches the way you take in his entire body.

You already noticed the tattoos on his chest and arms, but now you’re noticing the ones on his thighs. He’s unreal, so unfairly gorgeous and captivating. He’s perfectly sculpted, a sharp V carved into his pelvis that simply leads your eyes down a path to his perfect cock. It’s big — long and not too thick, veiny with a pink, leaking tip. He must catch your intrigued expression, because he laughs, a devious little sound that tells you he can’t have any pure intentions.

“Why don’t you lay down so I can get you ready to take this cock?” he purrs, slender fingers stroking up and down one side of your body.

You shudder at his touch, moving to lay down on his bed. You pull your shirt off before you do, leaving your black, lacy bra on display for the man beside you. Your tits rest perfectly in it, and Eddie’s sure to get an eyeful. His hands gently hold your hips once you’re situated comfortably, partially laying down with your back propped against his many fluffy pillows. He leans down, letting his lips graze over your jaw, your cheek, your nose, before finally pressing to your mouth. He brings one hand up, pulling your cat-ear headband off of your head, deciding it can’t be very comfortable to have on for hours at a time. It makes you breathe a little laugh into the kiss, remembering how silly you must look with your painted on whiskers and nose.

He doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it, his mouth pulling off of yours and starting to travel down your neck. He kisses your shoulders, your collarbone, sucking on the most sensitive bits of skin and making you whine as you wriggle beneath him. He finds his way down to your breasts, hands sliding your bra straps down your shoulders as you arch your back for him, giving him room to unhook the clasp that sits at your spine. His lips immediately attach to one of your pert nipples, sucking and swirling his tongue around the small bud. One of his large hands cups your other breast, the cold silver of the rings on his fingers a sharp contrast to your searing skin.

He switches after a moment, sucking the opposite nipple into his warm, wet mouth. Something akin to a growl leaves his mouth when your fingers tangle in his hair and tug, and it spurs you on to keep going. His lips unlatch themselves from your breast, his mouth moving down down down, trailing kisses everywhere it goes. Your cunt throbs when his mouth approaches the waistband of your tight little skirt, his eager hands hooking beneath the fabric and beginning to yank it down, along with your underwear.

He peppers kisses lower and lower on your body, his mouth following close behind the clothes that he pulls off of you, covering every inch of skin as it’s exposed to him. He discards everything onto the floor, definitely tearing your stockings in the process of ripping them off of you. Your mind is a blur as he hastily attaches his lips to your clit, slipping one finger inside of you with complete ease. You weren’t expecting all of the stimulation so suddenly, your body writhing on the mattress as he sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth.

“More, Eddie, need more,” you pant, knowing you’re probably being greedy but knowing all the same that he won’t deny you what you want.

He hums against your cunt, immediately adding a second finger inside of you. He curls the digits, collecting your sticky wetness and groaning at the filthy noises that his movements make. Your hands tug harder on his hair as you throw your head back onto the pillows, cursing at how good he feels. Going in, you had no idea how tonight would play out, but you certainly didn’t expect to be hooking up with the frontman of Corroded Coffin. Your head spins at the thought of how many other people would probably die to be in your position right now, and it only makes you more turned on.

“Want one more, baby? Need to make sure you can take my fingers before you take my cock,” he purrs, smirking up at you.

“Yeah, please, I can take it,” you reassure him, and he slips a third finger in.

His fingers are thick, no doubt about it, and they stretch you so deliciously you feel like you could cry. The silk sheets beneath you feel cold against your skin, easing the heat that floods your entire body. You grip them with one hand, the other still in Eddie’s hair as he flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit in the perfect rhythm. He doesn’t dare change his pace, not with the way you’re moaning his name like a siren song, drawing him more and more into you.

You’re rapidly approaching your release, that much he knows, and he wants to send you free-falling over that edge. The way you suck his fingers right in practically makes him drool, he can’t get enough. Loud, shrill moans of his name leave your mouth as he curls his fingers into that perfect soft spot inside of you, and Eddie couldn’t care less if the whole damn house can hear you.

“Gonna cum, Eddie, ohmygod—” you’re cut off mid-sentence, the air stolen from your lungs as you come undone for him.

You squeeze around his fingers, soaking him as your body trembles. He pulls them out of you, slowly bringing them to his lips, making sure your eyes are on him. He sucks the digits clean of your juices, humming contently around them. You ache for him, your body desperate to have him even though it’s only been seconds since he’d been pleasuring you.

He moves to hover over you, reattaching his lips to yours in a heated kiss. It’s somehow gentle and rough at the same time, a weird but enticing juxtaposition. He tastes like you and it drives you crazy as your mouths clash together, all teeth and tongues.

“Fuck, baby, hold on. Let me get a condom,” Eddie says, nearly breathless as he pulls away.

“No— want you to fuck me raw,” you mewl, reaching out to stop him as he goes to stand.

“Baby…” he says, looking at you with uncertainty. He never goes without a condom, and certainly doesn’t want you to feel pressured to forgo one.

“Please, Eddie. Just pull out,” you plead with him, and you honestly can’t believe your nerve right now. Begging the famous rockstar you just met to fuck you raw, as if you have all of this power over him. What you don’t know is that Eddie already wants to give you anything you ask for.

“Okay, alright, sweetheart. Whatever you want,” he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead before positioning himself on top of you.

He lines his cock up with your entrance, and you can feel the way you throb for him. You know you’re even more soaked than before, and you hardly worry about whether or not he’ll fit.

“You ready?” he asks sincerely. Big brown eyes searching yours for your approval.

“Mhm,” you hum, letting your eyes flutter closed when you feel him start to press in.

Moans leave each of your mouths in unison as he sinks inside inch by inch. Your nails dig in to the skin on his back, dragging down when he bottoms out inside of you. He hisses, breathing heavy as he tries to gain some composure. You feel so good around him, too good, and it takes all of his focus to not bust immediately.

“Please move, need you to move,” you whine, looking up at him with your big, pleading eyes.

He nods, “Okay, baby. Gonna give it to you so good, yeah?”

He starts thrusting, slowly at first, dragging his cock almost fully out of you before rutting back in. The air is forced from your lungs, your mouth open in a silent moan. His movements stay slow like that for a little while, giving you the friction you need but still teasing. Moans leave your lips as he slowly pushes himself all the way in, letting you fully feel the way he stretches your walls to fit him.

He starts to speed up then, setting a steady pace as he fucks into you harder. He does it so well, filling you to the brim and making you clench around him. You can feel every vein and ridge on his cock, the pleasure making your body erupt in goosebumps.

“Shit, feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” Eddie pants, his hips smacking against yours roughly. “Wanna try something different?” he asks, waiting for your approval which comes without hesitation.

He pulls out of you, making you wince slightly. He stands at the side of the bed, coaxing you to move towards him. You oblige, scooting right to the edge of the mattress. Strong hands grip your legs, hoisting your feet up onto his shoulders, exposing you perfectly to him. You feel more vulnerable like this, and it makes you antsy as you wait for him to slide back in. When he does, you see stars. The angle is perfect, his cock hitting spots it couldn’t before. You watch as he throws his head back, the muscles in his neck prominent as he clenches his jaw, a guttural groan escaping him.

“You’re so damn beautiful, so fucking gorgeous,” he says, looking back down at you with sincere eyes. “How’d I get the most perfect girl on the planet?”

And then he bends down, your legs still hooked over his shoulders, your body practically folded in half now. You nearly scream out his name, the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your skin filling the space. He leans down to kiss you, his lips and firm against yours, muffling your pretty noises. He pulls away, letting out a smug little chuckle at the way you instantly moan for him, noticing the tears pricking in the corner of your eyes.

“Gonna cry for me, baby? My cock feels so good you’re gonna cry about it?” he teases, watching your brow furrow in concentration as you get closer and closer to release.

“You’re very — fuck — very fucking modest,” you choke out, trying and failing to bite back your whimpers.

He laughs again, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “You know you fucking love it,” he murmurs, teeth biting at your earlobe before he pulls away. “I can tell you love it, cause you’re suckin’ me in like you were made for me.”

You let out a whine at his words, pinching your eyes shut in pure ecstasy as he continues to split you open. “Fuck, Eddie, don’t stop,” you plead, your body jolting with every harsh thrust he gives you.

He grunts as he fucks you faster, watching in awe as your tits bounce on your chest. He can feel how soaked you are for him, can see your cream pooling around the base of him when he sheathes himself fully inside.

“You gonna cum for me again, sweetheart?” he rasps, leaning down to kiss along your jawline.

All you can get out is a wobbly “Uh-huh,” nodding your head to the best of your ability. His fingers dig in to the meat of your thighs, a dull ache from his harsh grip barely noticeable in the back of your mind. One hand moves from its spot on your leg to reach down and play with your clit, the pad of his thumb rubbing quick circles over it.

Your back arches off the mattress, your legs shaking as you cry out his name. A few more deep thrusts and you’re plummeting over the edge for the second time tonight, your cunt tensing up around him over and over. The way your walls flutter around his cock brings him dangerously close to release, and he pulls his cock out quickly before he’s pumping it in his fist. All it takes is a few strokes before ropes of his cum are covering your body, splattering over your bare chest and stomach.

You let your legs drop from his shoulders, aching as you stretch them out. You feel like you’re made of rubber, limbs wobbly as your feet drop to the floor.

“Holy shit,” is all you can say, staring up at his ceiling as he chuckles at you from the side of the bed.

“You’re so damn perfect,” he says, shaking his head with a sweet little smile. He stretches, muscles flexing as he raises his arms to the ceiling, cocking an eyebrow at you when he catches you staring.

“Says you…” you reply, pulling the sheets up to hide your face, suddenly shy.

“Let me get you cleaned up, yeah?” he asks, holding out his arm for you, pulling you up when you take his hand.

When you step out of the shower with him, after your body has been cleaned and every inch of your skin has been kissed by his soft mouth, he gives you his big clothes to put on. You change and brush your hair, letting his hands hold your waist as he tries to invade your space to kiss you even more. You can’t help but admire his face, even more gorgeous now that his Halloween makeup is washed down the drain.

You both shuffle out of the bedroom carefully afterwards, trying to gauge how much the party has died down, only to be met with a laugh from the opposite end of the hallway.

Your head shoots up, seeing Gareth and Chrissy stepping out of his room, looking wildly similar to you and Eddie; costumes off, makeup off, a few extra hickeys on Gareth’s neck. Chrissy’s mouth hangs open, her eyes flitting from you to Eddie and back again.

“I told you!!” she shouts, giggling before Gareth takes her hand, pulling her down the stairs with him.

You try to bite back a smile, heat creeping up to your face.

“What exactly did she tell you, sweetheart?” Eddie smirks down at you, pulling your body to his. His cocky expression gives you the hint that he already has an idea.

“Shut up, rockstar.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic

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silverzoomies · 3 months ago

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Can you do 100 from the smut prompt list with Peter (Dark Phoenix version) but can you make it where the reader is his wife and he still is gentle and loving with her.

I really want to see how you would write a more romantic Peter

Pancakes

peter maximoff x reader smut

warnings: shameless smut, domestic, married couple, cock warming, risky sex, creampie, implied/referenced breeding

word count: 2,762

a/n: this one's for you, purple cat !! apologies, i'm rusty with my writing and characterization right now. probably will be for a while. sorry the ending's so abrupt !!

Peter races ceaselessly back and forth. Like a fast paced pendulum in full swing, he juggles his two most demanding responsibilities. The X-Men and teaching. His multiple jobs and total lack of free time are some of the many downsides of being a grown ass adult. He doesn’t wanna complain too much though, since the work is definitely rewarding overall. Like fo’ sho, he’s not gonna deny the perks.

But even with those sweet positives - making both money, and a name for himself; your superhero husband rarely has time for you anymore.

Peter hopes you’ll forgive him. Again. As he ambles into your shared room after another heinously long day, his body is littered in scrapes and bruises. Echoes of battles won. The wounds will surely heal by next morning. You know this as well as you know him. But you still insist on patching him up anyway, after Beastie’s already taken care of him twice over. You’re just so damn doting. It makes Peter feel even worse for waving you off.

He guarantees you a quick peck on the lips and a “love you, gorgeous.” Before he finally succumbs to mental fatigue. A tired fog of exhaustion beckons him to collapse into bed. You beg Peter to stay up a bit longer. An hour, at least. But just as you get a word in, he’s already conked out. Snoring away.

Within three hours, he wakes. You sleep soundly next to him. Snug as a lil bug. Peter presses a loving smooch to your sleepy head. Ruffling your hair, he bolts out the door promptly after.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Every day. For months on end. His schedule never seems to align with yours.

Peter misses you so bad. He misses spending time with you. Laughing together. Cuddling for brief instances, cuz he can never sit still long enough for it to last. He misses making small talk. Only to glance at the clock and find hours unknowingly passed. Peter longs to take you on spontaneous trips across the country again, trying pancakes at every small town diner he can find.

And to put it bluntly - he desperately yearns to make love again. To you. His smokin’ hot wife - Mrs. Maximoff - and no one else. After months of pent-up frustration, he’s about ready to burst at the seams. It physically pains him when he remembers how often the two of you used to bone. So many times a day. Every day.

Peter still wonders if his speedy swimmers are even worth a damn. With all the raw, passionate sex he had with you - it’s a miracle you never followed the Maximoff family trend of carrying twins.

He even misses the more shameful moments shared with you. Like the times he surprised you with truckloads of gifts, spoiling you rotten - after he forgot your anniversary. Again. And again and again and- …hey, he warned you, long before the two of you ever got married. Peter isn’t the most reliable lover. He’s never been “boyfriend material,” as they say. And he knows now, better than ever; he most definitely isn’t “husband material" either.

But he really does love you. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. About as much as he loves Wanda. Which is an astronomical amount of love, if he's being honest. And if he were born with some reality-warping mutation instead, Peter would move the heavens and Earth just to make you happy.

Times are tough for mutants these days, though. There’s still so much work to be done. Classes to teach. Rights to fight for. People to save. No shortage of those.

You know he isn’t to blame for his absence. And he knows you know it. But still...it just...it sucks! He needs to be there for you, as much as you wanna be there for him.

And when the X-family comes together on a Friday night for a much needed break - more than anything in the world, Peter looks forward to spending every second with you. As soon as you walk into the lounge room, Peter pulls you straight into his arms. You’re wearing a tasteful dress you picked out just for him. It makes you look like a goddamn knockout. But all he wants is to tear it off you and press his bare body against yours. To feel your soft, luscious skin get sweatier under the natural, burning heat of his own.

The team play a few board games together, sharing drinks, gorging on Remy’s best gumbo. Peter gets a slap on the wrist with a ladle, after Lebeau catches him sneaking a third bowl - before anyone else even has their first.

It’s an easygoing, chillaxed affair. And throughout the night, your silver fox husband keeps you close like a magnet. Attached at the hip. He’s uncharacteristically clingy, touching you as much as you’ll allow in a sociable space. Calloused hands tenderly graze your skin as he offers to hold your drink. Peter’s fingers splay against your lower back, curling in, drawing affectionate circles.

You make your rounds and mingle with the family. Peter follows you around like a lost dog in need of attention. He keeps an arm wrapped around your waist, taking every opportunity to secretly grope your ass. You sneak him a few wary glances. Wordless warnings. Bringing his drink to his lips, the fine lines of Peter’s dimples pull in a lazy grin. He averts his gaze elsewhere.

Once more, his impulsivity earns him a slap on the wrist. Not from Remy this time. But from you. Peter takes your subtle scolding as a challenge. Leaning closely into your vicinity, he mutters.

“Oh, it is so on.”

“Don’t you dare!” You whisper back, squealing after he gives you a light smack on your ass.

His teasing continues without warning.

You chat with the team, visibly tensing as Peter pulls a nonexistent strand of lint from your dress. His hot touch lingers dangerously close to your cleavage. You can’t help but blush. The warmth in your cheeks races across your skin, creeping through your supple bust. Left speechless, your words falter on your tongue. Peter carries the conversation for you with minimal effort, flaunting aloof charisma.

He cracks a poorly timed joke and it fails to land. Feigning his embarrassment, he hides his face in the fragrant crook of your neck. His teammates tease him for it. But what they don’t know is, it’s all a theatrical ruse. They don’t see the way his teeth nip your flesh before he pulls away.

During an innocent game of UNO, your husband’s lidded gaze leers at you from across the carpeted floor. Peter’s dark hues make a short gesture to the dip between your legs. Biting his lip, he meets your eyes again with a frisky look. You know that look all too well. Again, you blush profusely. Logan catches him in the act as he wiggles his silver brows. But the old timer makes no comment, shaking his head with a smirk.

The team later settles down for a movie. Taking their respective spots in front of the TV, snacks in hand, they all lounge around. Peter steals a cozy spot on one of the sofas. He leaves a space for you next to him. Bouncing a knee restlessly, he cooks up a number of sneaky ways he can tease you. But his plans are all tossed to the wind once you scooch your way between the couch and the coffee table.

You shimmy your ample ass in front of him. Is it intentional? Unintentional? You naughty, little minx. His virile gaze falls to your tush, so full and grabbable in your dress. In a split second, he grabs your waist and inches you back into the warm familiarity of his lap. Your body relaxes, your back against his chest.

Finally, at last, Peter cuddles his wife again.

And he’s content with doing so for all of one minute.

His knee continues to bounce underneath you. With your hands joined together in your lap, his fingers absentmindedly play with your wedding ring. Steering his attention from Jurassic Park, Peter brings a hand to your chin. In the darkness, the television’s light illuminates all of your best features. You’re stunning. He really can't help himself. Peter pulls you in for some modest lip action. Careful not to catch anyone’s attention. The fingers of his opposite hand tease the back of your neck, igniting patterns of goose flesh.

“Aw, you cold?” Peter’s affectionate voice hitches, seemingly innocent.

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Peter vanishes and returns in a fwip, draping a thick blanket over the two of you once he returns. Showing gratitude, you peck his cheek with a soft kiss. Cute. Your mischievous husband almost laughs. He adores how naive and sweet you are. Oblivious to his schemes after five years of a marriage, and a decade of familiarity. Peter makes a few adjustments. Playing it off like he’s covering you for warmth.

You sink into him again with a fond smile on your lips.

An adoring smile that instantly falls, lips parting, exhaling a breathless gasp.

Peter trails fiery fingertips along your inner thigh and up your dress skirt. His hooded gaze stays hard locked on the movie, faking interest in Jeff Goldblum’s incoherent mumblings. Blissful buzzes resound faintly against the fabric of your panties. Peter’s grin stretches impishly again when you jolt as a response. Your clit pulses under flush pressure, making you squirm in his lap.

Confession time: your husband’s on a mission to make you as wet as possible, in as little time as possible.

The pads of his warm digits draw lower and push into damp fabric. You’re already soaking yourself silly.

“Feel that? How wet you are? Must’ve really missed me, huh?” Peter breathes silently with his nose in your neck, getting high off your familiar scent. His lips press a chaste kiss to your skin. A husky chuckle blooms in his throat, “Missed you too. Missed this. So fuckin' much.”

His name teeters off your lips in a confused whimper, barely audible. Sneaking your damp panties to the side, Peter’s thick digits breach your lonesome pussy folds. After being deprived of you for so ungodly long, the feel of your wet lust hardens him all at once. His fingers play a little game of tunnel diving, prodding your lush insides. Peter adjusts his position on the sofa by a smidgen. Silent curses tickle your temple. His girth bulges against your ass.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?!” You huff under your breath, frantically scanning the room as he shifts again.

Peter’s digits curl so deliciously deep inside you, whirring like a silent vibrator, making your cunt spill leaky love. His breathy lips loom close to your ear.

“Hmm? Gunna try somethin’ risky. You’ll be quiet for me, won’t you, baby? Don’t want ‘em catchin’ on.”

“Honey, no-”

“Shhh. Shhh. Shhh. Just go with the motions. Trust me. It’ll be so fun. I know you wanna.”

Peter uses speedster precision to pull his flush dick discreetly from his jeans. Poor guy’s so homesick, he’s crying - leaking precum, throbbing as Peter nudges him into your plush heat. It’s an awkward angle at first. But Peter guides you through it with more hushed whispers. The blanket acts as a veil of innocence, draped over your connected bodies. Peter urges your hips to sink lower. You choke on your own mewls as he scarcely ruptures your precious tunnel.

“Tell me if it hurts, ‘kay?” He coos through an easy tone, parting his lips against the shell of your ear.

A subtle hitch of his hips does the rest of the work for you. Biting his tongue, Peter curls his brows inward. Your slick walls envelop his length all at once. Smooth, shuddery tightness compresses his cock and sets his nerves ablaze. Your husband peppers your temple in heedless kisses, letting throaty grunts slip in between each one. His pulsing cock keeps your walls pried open. Snug, safe, secure, and buried to the hilt.

Peter doesn’t move, and neither do you. One of his hands digs nails into your hips over your dress, keeping you cemented on his lap. He’s torturing himself, fighting his own relentless impatience in an attempt to stay perfectly still. And it’s taking every microscopic ounce of willpower not to pound you senseless. Peter covers his face with a palm. His dark, lust-blown eyes peer through lazy fingers at the TV.

He’s six inches deep in his wife right now, and not a soul in the room has any clue.

Clearing his throat and acting casual, Peter shifts his hips again. His fat tip prods your cervix with a weepy kiss. Like a promise to stuff you full of something special. He sneaks a careful hand between your legs. His wedding ring settles over your bush, cool to the touch. The rough pads of his fingers vibrate more intensely than before, winding into your twitchy clit. Coaxing you to break. You tremble in his lap, knees flying inward, knocking together hard enough to bruise.

Peter’s eyes roll back in his skull as your sticky walls seize tightly around his snug dick.

“Ah, fuck me.” He groans into your hair.

He can’t stop himself from knocking his hips upward every few minutes. Burrowing his buzzing thickness deeper, Peter splits you open, impaling your poor pussy. His genes imbue his body with primal frustration. Hiking the intensity of your hot bliss, his digits toy with your clit. Your breaths grow more sparse and shallow, as you blink tears from the corners of your eyes.

“Pietro, honey, please-"

He hitches his next breath. Reeling his ass into the couch cushions, Peter makes an abrupt retreat before ramming his cock into your womb. His inky gaze widens tenfold as your pussy swells, squeezing his dick tight enough to lock him in your hot channel forever. His lashes flutter. Going cross eyed, Peter feels his weighty balls tense under denim.

His hand darts up from your hip, clamping over your mouth in a flash. Peter pulls you hard against him, your back flush with his heaving chest as you cum. You’re so fucking lucky the movie transitions into a particularly loud scene. The shrill roar of Jurassic Park dinosaurs plays like a perfectly timed miracle. Concealing your muffled squeals of ecstasy.

The slippery contractions of your orgasm send him into the stratosphere. Your pussy creams hard on your husband’s whirring cock, and his pent-up longing comes crashing in bombastic waves. As covertly as he can, under the thick heat of the blanket; Peter repeatedly thrusts into your lush pussy. Slowly - so as not to catch anyone’s attention.

It’s both the most hellish, and thrilling sexual experience of his near-middle aged years. He bites his lip so hard he draws blood. Peter’s brows fly up, following an expression of pure vulnerability. Thick, endless pools of white, syrupy heat flood your pussy, gushing in streaks and leaking down his vascular dick.

Peter takes a two second pause to catch his breath, unusually winded from such a scandalously intimate experience. With his nose buried in your hair, his lips pepper your head in soft kisses. Bringing his fist to his mouth, Peter clears his throat again.

“Uhm, g-great party, guys! Love you! We’re gonna bounce. G’night!”

The two of you disappear in a blur, leaving the blanket fluttering in the air.

Back in your shared room, your ever-insatiable husband drills you raw again and again. Spilling thick, sticky load after load - like he’s really trying his damndest to knock you up. You lose track of how many times you reach ecstasy. Peter tells you he’s making up for lost time. By the end of it all, your limp, naked body lies loosely in his arms. Running his fingers through your hair, he catches himself staring at the ceiling with a big, dumb smile on his face.

Saturday morning, Peter channels his inner, teenage self. Recalling his notorious streak of high school ditch-days, much to his mother’s dismay. He decides…ah, screw it. If Chuck needs him, he can just reach out via telepathic communication. Peter bails on his responsibilities to take you out for pancakes. At a family owned diner in some nowhere town, far away from any sinister villains.

You sit across from him at the booth, leaning tiredly over your breakfast. He can tell your body aches just by looking at you. Bones rigid. Legs sore. Hair unkempt. Makeup smeared.

You’re goddamn beautiful.

#not a fan of this one but i hope yall get a kick out of it !!#peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #smut drabble #peter maximoff #txt

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marylily-my-beloved · 6 months ago

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FATIMAH ! ♡

»»-----------► I HAVE A MICROFIC BLOG: @marylilymicrofic IF YOU LIKE MARYLILY AND LIKE MARAUDERS YOU SHOULD GO FOLLOW AND WRITE FOR IT!! I MADE IT WITH @icarus-last-fall

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»»-----------► Hiii! I hope you guys are prepared for like 4 fandom related posts a day and random rambles + shitposts ♡

»»-----------► My name is Fatimah (not real name), I am a minor (so plz don't be creepy) make any nicknames for me that you want (please please please call me Fay !!) ♡ She/they, arab, muslim, pansexual, infp, im just a girl ♡

»»-----------► MY AO3 <33 Go check it out I write marauders fics

➥ Lily and the Princesses of Power (ongoing). She-ra au, marylily fic, background ships as well. Lily escapes from the Death Eaters leaving Mary behind. 6/? Chapters ♡ On haitus sorry guys but I might update soon! Just have big writers block for this and I feel super bad for not updating :(

➥ Back at that Party (finished). Canon AU, marylily fic, background dorlene. Mary & Lily have a disagreement at a party and forced to sort it out together. 1/1 Chapter ♡

➥ Good Luck Babe! (finished). Canon AU, Lily x Narcissa wedding fic, end game narcissa x lucuis. Lily gets invited to Narcissa's wedding, and warns her about what could happen to her, and then dies a couple of years later. Main Character Death, 1/1 Chapter (based on Good Luck Babe! by Chappell Roan) ♡ (tumblr link)

➥ Burning Stars (finished). Canon AU, Bellatrix x Alice fic talking about their relationship in Hogwarts and how it ended. very angsty, hurt no comfort. 1/1 chapter ♡ (tumblr link)

➥ Strawberry Mentos (finished). Modern AU, marylily fic based on 'strawberry mentos'. Short and pretty cute and sweet. Getting Together fic. 1/1 chapter ♡ (tumblr link)

➥ Letters to A Happier Life (finished). after war AU, marylily. Lily is already dead, and Mary discovers their old letters after she obvliated herself. 1/1 chapter ♡ (tumblr link)

»»-----------► DNI IF

Rasict Transphobic and/or homphobic Islamaphobic Zionist / supports israel Sexist Discriminate against people for any stupid reason

»»-----------► I am obessed with Chappell Roan and women so much its not even funny anymore

»»-----------► I love writing fanfics, reading anything (plz give me book & fanfic recs), baking, listening to music & playing basketball ♡

»»-----------► I love hearts, pearls, rings, aesthetic stuff, pink and purple, uquizzes, cats, my moots & lipgloss ♡

»»-----------► SOME LINKS TO MY FAVE POSTS I MADE

Black Sisters Dialouge

Mary Macdonald Deep Dive (P2! more in depth)

Dorcas Meadowes Deep Dive

Black Sisters Deep Dive (sorta)

Peter Pettigrew Deep Dive

Blue by Billie Eilish = Andromeda & Bellatrix

Skinny by Billie Eilish = Lily Evans

Chihiro by Billie Eilish = Dorcas Meadowes

Lacy by Olivia Rodrigo = Dorlily (Dorcas x Lily)

Apple by Charli XCX = Evans Sisters (Lily & Petunia)

24/7 by The Neighbourhood = Jily modern AU

Bellatrix & Sirius Comparison

Microfics

»»-----------► Fandoms: ♡

・❥・ Harry Potter/Marauders fandom. Gryffindor. Lily, Mary & Remus kinnie. In love with James Potter & Pandora Lovegood ♡ (fuck jk rowling I do not support her) (jkr should go die)

・❥・She-ra (2018 reboot). Harcdore catradora and scorfuma shipper. Entrapta kinnie and I am in love with her ♡

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・❥・Hunger Games. Have not finished the series yet but working on it <3. In love with Johanna ♡. Need to read half of Mockingjay & TBOSAS ♡

・❥・Heartstopper. So excited for season 3, read all of the books on webtoon. Tori & Tara lover ♡. Darcy, Elle & Charlie kinnie. Harcore Tara x Darcy shippers ♡

・❥・ Young Royals. Harcore Sara x Felice shipper & Stedrika (stella x fredrika) & of coure Wilmon and Henry x Walter. Wilhelm and Felice kinnie. In love with Maddie ♡

・❥・ ATLA & LOK. I love them so much, I love Korra and Katara & Asami. Toph + Zuko kinnie ♡ Harcore kataang and toph x suki. getting into zutara but kataang will always be the otp. I have almost all the comics for ATLA ♡

・❥・TDP / The Dragon Prince. love love love love, I got sooo back into it after season 6. protect my boy terry!!! ♡ rayllum my loves. sorvus my heart. fuck viren. probably a soren kinnie... ♡

・❥・Probably more but I can't remember rn ♡

»»-----------► My tags and other random stuff <333:

➥ Pride Month headcanons: #fatimahs pride headcanons 🤍 (this will be every pride month) ➥ Headcanons: yapping about headcanons 🎀 ➥ Personal stuff: me me me ! ➥ Basically everything: fatimah yaps 🎀 ➥ Deep Dives & Random long rambles: #Fatimahs deep dives ➥ My Writing (either here or a link to ao3): #Fatimahs writing ➥ Asks: #Fatimah gets an ask woah ➥ My life: fay.talks 🎀 »»-----------► Quotes ➥ marauders: Fatimahs marauders quotes 🩵 ➥She ra: Fatimahs she ra quotes 🩷 forgot the rest lol ♡

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»»-----------► I usually yap only about the marauders and/or she-ra but will occasionally yap about anything and everything else <3 please send me asks for anything you want I love asks and your like personal comments on my stuff ♡

the dividers are by @cafekitsune & the images are from Pinterest ♡

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hellsburners · 1 year ago

Text

time's wasting, tick-tocking, lip locking

summary: spider-man meets an unlikely friend(or foe) to help him retrieve an important package. pairing: tasm!peter parker x male reader word count: 1.8k warnings: fluff, suggestive stuff, black cat reader, light smut, they're not friends sorta enemies if you think about it. a/n: a request from an anon! btw you could end it to a certain part if you just want the banter and the fluff but yall this is a hellsburners production we're serving smut here

masterlist | more peter parker

The air was quite chilly atop this building, the spandex not warming his body. Spider-man rubbed his gloved hands together for some heat, his legs bent over the ledge of the building, his eyes scanning the dock below. Twenty-four men loading wooden crates into shipping containers with the words Roxxon Energy Corp.

He swung down behind a shipping crate, crawling to the top unbeknownst to the men. His webs thwip across the snowy dock, disarming three men. Their bodies bonded together, and their mouths shut. He swings again, landing next to four other men, their rifles pointing at him.

Peter webs for two opposite poles and slingshots himself to the men, kicking one over while disarming the others; more men come rushing with baseball bats and crowbars. They try to hit Peter, his senses blazing from each attack; he ducks and avoids each blow, pulling on a few webs to tie them up.

Five more men come from inside the shipping container, loaded with pistols and rifles, but before they can come out, a small silver ball rolls from the top of the container, falling down and releasing white smoke.

Peter could hear the men choke and cough as a figure came down and took them individually. He did the same, taking the moment when the men were disarmed to land a few kicks and punches, leaving them unconscious.

He runs to the shipping container as the smoke wears off. The crates were ripped open with bear-like claw marks, the contents of the boxes now gone. He hears footsteps from his far left, the shadowy figure creeping against the moonlight. Peter webs his way to run after it. The cold slowed him down, his feet much heavier and his hands numb.

He shoots a web that lands on the figure's back. He turns to a man wearing a black coat with white fur on the hood and its sleeves. He sees your face, black-masked, dark hair with streaks of silver, a black satchel wrapped around your shoulder. The Black Cat.

You gave him a wink before falling back on the ledge of the building. Peter jumps, finding you at the bottom, waiting for him. He webs down slowly, landing on his feet. Your back against a wall, your clawed fingers wrapped around the clear vial with silvery-purple liquid.

"Need this?" you said, vapor appearing from your lips. "Nice to see you again, Spider."

"I would say the same, but I don't share the sentiment," he said, walking towards you. "Can we skip the small talk and give me that vial?"

"Ooh, you know it's not that easy," you said, putting the vial back in your bag. "Besides, don't you miss me?" you pout.

"I—no!" Peter said, his voice erratic. "Shame," you smirked, dropping another smoke bomb before disappearing from his sight.

"Hey!" he screamed. You were ahead a few blocks. He swung across a few other buildings and tried to chase you down. You grappled down a busy street, your coat blending in with civilians in their winter clothes. "Fuck," he sighed. "Lucky me, I've been trying to test these out," he said, taking his phone out to see the red dot on the city map, a tracker placed on your back when he ran after you.

He traced you down, riding a black car heading out of the city. Peter reloaded his web-shooters and braced for the trip. He swung from building to building until he landed on a truck heading in the same direction. His joints started to stiffen, his nape cold and aching.

You entered a safe house on the city's outskirts, a brutalist bare building with a white car parked outside. Peter found you dealing with—Richard Fisk, the Kingpin's son, calls himself The Rose. You hand him the bag of vials. You await payment before his men point their guns at you. Peter knows you. This isn't something you could run away from easily. Fisk turns away and leaves in his white car, leaving you with six men with loaded guns.

Peter jumps down to your aid, unarming two men before landing a solid blow on the others. You take this moment to kick the other man right across his face. He saw you move with grace and agility, your gymnast background aiding your fight.

The men all ended up unconscious on the pavement. Blood drips down your lips, and no one gets away with scamming you. "So, was it worth it?" Spider-man said.

"Don't piss me off," you said, rubbing the back of your hand against your bloodied lip. "This never happens."

"Well, it just did," he said. "That vial could've helped me to take them down, but now they have it!"

"I'm not a hero, Spider," you snickered. "I don't do this for good. I do this so I can live," you walked towards the door, the metal ice cold. You try to slide the entrance to the side, but the gate does not budge. You snarled, trying to pull it back. "Shit, I think it's stuck."

"What?" Peter said. "Let me see," he tried to do the same, but the door still didn't budge despite his strength. "Fuck, they must've closed us off—the snow isn't helping either." Peter punched the door in anger, leaving a giant dent.

"There must be another exit—or a window," you said. The room slowly turned colder. You tried to wrap your fur coat around your body, your breath leaving hot vapor. Loud bangs from Peter's fists filled the room, but the door never moved.

"I checked before coming in. There isn't one," Peter took off his mark, panting while vapor left his lips. You looked at him. He was older since you last met, the circles under his eyes darker, his face riddled with stubble, his hair longer and messier. The cold fogged your goggles up, so you took them off and left them on a table nearby.

The two of you rummaged all over the safe house, looking for materials to use or food and other things. Peter found an old lab coat to wrap himself with, and you found a box of canned tuna, some old crackers—and one sleeping bag.

Peter tried his cell, but there was no signal. "We're going to be here for a while," you said. "Shouldn't we bundle up and stay warm, like old times."

"Not happening," Peter said, shivering under his breath.

"Your loss," you ripped a claw on the box of biscuits and took a bite. "Ugh, it's stale."

Hours passed with Peter running around the safe house, looking for an exit. On the other hand, you lay on the sleeping bag with your hands behind your head. You took a file from your pocket and filed your claws into peak sharpness. Peter sighed under his breath every time he passed by you. "You're a pain in the ass, Cat."

"From what I remember, you gave me a pain in the ass, Spider," you chuckled. "Kidding, it wasn't all pain."

"I'm fucking freezing," Peter said, rubbing his body to make some heat.

"I told you we should bundle up," you said. "Plus, it's getting late, and I'm sleepy."

Peter rolled his eyes and joined you in the sleeping bag. The two of you were wrapped like a burrito, his face too close to yours. His brown eyes stared intently, his long lashes batting at you. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer. His eyes widened, and a soft moan left his lips. "Wrap your arms around me, too," you said. His large arms snaked around you, creating heat.

"Wood sage and Sea salt?" you whispered, smelling his neck. He chuckled and nodded. "I missed you, Spider. Honestly,"

"I missed you too," he said, his voice stern. "Where did you go, Cat?"

"Tried to live a normal life, it didn't end well for me," your gaze trailed away from his eyes, your hand finding his soft brown hair. "I guess this is me forever, running and stealing."

"It doesn't have to be like that. You could work with me, and we could be good," Peter said, his palms rubbing your lower back. "Live with me."

"I'll think about it," you said, your hands falling to his cheeks. It was warm against his cold skin. You inched closer, pressing your lips to his. You closed your eyes and delved deeper into the kiss. His hand snaked underneath your clothes, cold fingertips against your bare skin. You wrapped your thigh around his, his knee hitting your center. The two of you moaned from the kiss, hands searching each other's bodies.

You straddled Peter's waist rubbing your ass on his growing erection. His hands wrapped around your ass, pulling you closer. He whimpers on your lips, shaking from the pleasure and the cold. "Cat—" he moaned. You pepper his neck with kisses, licking and sucking, leaving red marks.

He pulls you back to the kiss, his arms hugging you tighter as his sex rubs on your ass. He rubs against you, moaning and whimpering while you moan from his tight embrace. He grips your waist, fingers digging into your skin. "Fuck—Spider, you good?" you gasped.

"I missed you, and I need you," he said. "Please be with me. I'll take care of you, protect you," his eyes stared at yours. "You won't run ever again."

"I'll think about it," you said again, an ache forming in your chest. Knowing it will never be normal with him.

"Fuck–I'm close," he moaned.

You pulled him in for a last kiss for a long while. Peter finishes under his suit, his face red and his hair drenched in sweat. You later passed out on the sleeping bag, your arms draped around each other, Peter's lips pressing on your forehead as you succumbed to the night.

Peter woke up to a banging on the door. "We know you're in there, Cat! Give us the real vial, or we'll kill you!" a bunch of men surrounded the lot, hands on their guns. He saw that you were gone, a hole formed on the ceiling, sunlight peering in, a black satchel on the spot where you slept. Inside were the vials and a note.

Sorry, I couldn't stay for breakfast. I had to go real quick. I left the vials for you. Do whatever is right. You always do the right thing. And you'll probably not see me again but don't miss me too much. I know I will.

Xoxo, Cat.

#peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x male reader smut #the amazing spiderman #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader smut

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weighty-ghosts · 2 years ago

Text

Pure Torture (spicy wolfstar fic)

Happy birthday to @xinasvoice and Remus John Lupin!! This story technically isn’t about Remus' birthday...but he does get a present ;)

Pure Torture, by weightyghosts

“A small grunt escapes Sirius’ lips and he hunches forward again, burying his face in his hands. Remus fidgets beside him. Sirius might be the one with a vibrating plug up his arse in the middle of class right now, but in reality, Remus is the one suffering.”

Pairing: Remus x Sirius

Rating: explicit

Word count: 3400

Genre: fluff & smut & first times

Published: March 10, 2023

Warnings: NSFW, sexual content, swearing

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45644413

“Mr. Black, are you quite well?”

James hides his laugh behind his hand, elbow resting on the desk, and Remus watches Sirius’ shoulders tense and twitch as he straightens his back.

“Y-yes, Professor Flitwick,” Sirius grits out behind a painful smile, “Quite well.”

Flitwick nods and returns to ignoring the boys at the back of the class, focusing on the more rapt students at the front.

A small grunt escapes Sirius’ lips, and he hunches forward again, burying his face in his hands.

Remus fidgets beside him. Sirius might be the one with a vibrating plug up his arse in the middle of class right now, but in reality, Remus is the one suffering.

He grips his quill tighter as Sirius shudders quietly.

“Don’t you think you should go back to the dorm?” Remus asks sharply.

“Piss off,” Sirius grumbles, voice muffled.

James sighs cheerfully and lays his head down on the desk, facing Sirius and looking like the cat that got the cream.

“How you holding up, Padfoot?” he asks with false consideration. “Ready to give in?”

The only answer is another angry grumble from Sirius.

To be fair, isn’t like Sirius doesn’t deserve to be punished.

He had purposefully interrupted James and Lily’s private time in the dorm (which James had filled out all the proper paperwork for, and therefore Remus and Peter had been happy to camp out in the common room for the night, but Sirius hadn’t been pleased about the prospect of a less-than-ideal night’s sleep before their Quidditch match the next day, so he’d acted like a child), storming in to reclaim his territory and ending up with more than an eyeful of what the couple like to get up to. Sirius had been merciless in his laughter and mockery of having discovered new information about James’ particular sexual interests.

Remus doesn’t think that it’s anyone else’s business what someone derives pleasure from, and deep down, he doesn’t think Sirius does either, but Sirius had never been able to hold back from making fun of James, even when it was the height of hypocrisy for him to mock James for liking stuff up his bum.

And so, it was only predictable that James would exact his revenge. Which he did that morning when the post arrived, James’ owl dropping a small box in front of Sirius with a thump over his breakfast plate. Remus knew straight away from James’ evil grin that it was going to be a long day. Though he honestly never could have predicted that James would actually purchase a neon purple vibrating anal plug for Sirius and then dare him to last through one lesson with it in– while James controlled the vibrations. Once Remus knew about this though, he really should have predicted that he would be horribly tortured right alongside Sirius.

It’s truly killing Remus to sit next to Sirius while he squirms and sweats and pants softly in restrained pleasure. Remus has been half hard since they sat down in Flitwick’s classroom, which was only ten minutes ago.

Sirius isn’t even able to answer James’ last question with anything more than a groan that’s probably supposed to sound threatening but comes out more frustrated and erotic. James doesn’t like the lack of verbal response though, so Remus sees his wand twist under the desk, pointed directly at Sirius.

“FUCK,” Sirius shouts into his hands.

The whole room freezes– except for James, who’s practically sliding to the floor with the effort of containing his laughter– and Flitwick stands on his toes to look at them again.

“Mr. Black? Was that you?”

Remus is trying to swallow down the heat in his cheeks as everyone stares in their direction, not to mention trying to calm the way Sirius’ shout was like a hot jolt to his cock.

Sirius takes a deep, shaky breath and raises his head, his face rather impressively blank. Remus can see how pink his ears are though, and can’t help but want to lick the delicious beads of sweat gathering at the base of his neck.

Sirius smiles apologetically at their professor and nods, seemingly unable to speak.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Flitwick asks again.

Sirius swallows and nods. His eyes are wide and his arms are crossed over his abdomen, fingers digging into his elbows.

Flitwick purses his lips and goes back to their lesson, which Remus hasn’t written a single note on.

“I,” Sirius whispers under his breath to James, “Am. Going. To. Murder. You.”

James pops back up, wiping tears from his face. “Mate, it’s not even on the highest setting.”

Sirius moans quietly, and Remus contemplates dragging him out of the classroom by his hair and into the nearest broom cupboard. Which would be quite the shock to Sirius, considering he has no clue that Remus fancies the pants off of him.

James’ wand starts to twist again but Sirius’ hand lashes out and clamps onto James’ arm.

“Don’t you dare, Potter!” Sirius snaps.

James just grins. “All you have to do is admit you were wrong and it will be over, Padfoot.”

“Fuck you,” Sirius says on a sharp inhale. “There’s no way you had this in during supper on Saturday.”

“I did!” James defends, then glances to the side guiltily. “Although I never said the vibration was on.”

“You absolute fucking– OH– fuck–”

He released his grip on James to smack him, but James is quick with his wand, and Remus can actually hear the plug vibrating now.

A few students turn around to glare at them, but luckily Flitwick somehow didn’t hear.

“Sirius,” Remus spits out under his breath, pleading more for his own sake than anyone else’s, “Will you please just leave and deal with…that?” He gestures awkwardly in the direction of Sirius’ crotch area.

Sirius looks over at him, and Remus bites the inside of his cheek at the way Sirius’ brows are drawn together in concentration and his cheeks are dusted hot pink.

“And let Prongs win?” Sirius gapes at Remus. “Who the fuck do you think I am?”

Remus sighs, silently cursing everyone and everything around him. Maybe he should be the one to leave and deal with his own… situation. He isn’t paying attention to the lesson and he certainly isn’t enjoying sitting next to his wet dream brought to life and not being able to do anything about it.

He realizes that Sirius is still looking at him, and Remus locks his eyes onto his, watching Sirius’ pupils dilate and almost swallow up the snow-grey of his irises. Sirius sucks in a sharp breath and bites down hard on his bottom lip.

Then again, maybe Remus could endure a little more torture.

James ruins it by elbowing Sirius in the ribs.

“Ugh, what?” Sirius grunts, turning away from Remus and fidgeting in his seat.

“Do you regret your actions yet?” James asks in a casual tone, as though his best mate doesn’t have a sex toy inside him in the middle of their Charms lesson, “Are you going to apologize to Lily and me?”

Sirius is already shaking his head. “Nope. Nope. You can’t make me. I regret nothing.”

Remus closes his eyes and prays for patience, bracing for the next–

The moan is thankfully muffled by Sirius stuffing his fist in his mouth, but it’s loud enough for the students nearby to turn and stare in alarm. Remus slides down in his chair and swallows down his own sound of pleasure. Or frustration. Or both.

Sirius is literally shaking. And Remus is literally going to explode.

He puts a hand on Sirius’ shoulder, undecided if he’s going to shove him or pull him close. “For the love of–”

His hand is suddenly gripping air as Sirius shoots his chair back and scrambles to his feet, practically running out of the classroom. That got Flitwick’s attention.

Their professor looks from the heavy door swinging shut to James and Remus and the empty seat between them.

“Will one of you go check on Mr. Black and see if he needs to be taken to the hospital wing?”

Remus is out of his chair almost as fast as Sirius was.

“Yes, Professor, I’ll go,” he declares in a completely steady and non-wobbly, not at all desperate voice. He ignores the snort from James and doesn’t wait for an acknowledgment from Flitwick before he’s rushing out the door in Sirius’ footsteps.

* * * *

Remus hears water running when he opens the door to the bathroom nearest the Charms classroom, and he turns the corner to find Sirius standing at one of the sinks, gripping the edge with both hands so hard his knuckles are white.

“Er, hey,” Remus says.

Sirius whips his head up and lets out a sob of relief that does nothing to help the strain in Remus’ trousers.

“Thank fuck, Moony,” Sirius says breathlessly, “I need you.”

Remus feels heat rush up his spine and tingle along his scalp. He steps closer. “You do?”

“Yes– lock the door!” Sirius squeezes his eyes shut and unlatches one of his hands from the sink to cup it under the water. He bends over a bit and splashes his face, running his wet hand over the back of his neck and through his hair, then turns the tap off and looks over at Remus. “Is it locked?”

“Oh, er,” Remus jumps and takes his wand out, having been distracted by watching the lucky drops of water slide down Sirius’ skin. He locks the door and then throws a silencing spell at it for good measure, which turns out to be the right move because the second the spell leaves his lips, Sirius lets out the loudest, toe-curling moan Remus has ever heard.

It makes Remus’ stomach swoop and his cock twitch, but the sound is also so dramatic he can’t help but laugh.

“Merlin, Sirius!” His voice is incredulous as he walks over to his friend.

“I can’t– I c– this thing,” Sirius stammers, shaking his head. He’s practically shivering all over, his legs squirming and his hands grappling at the counter. “I can’t, Moony, I need you to– please– fucking take it out.”

Remus’ mouth drops open.

“What?”

“Take it out!” Sirius looks up at him with wild, pleading eyes. “I can’t take it anymore! I need it out, please. I can’t do it!”

His skin is flushed, his chest is heaving, and Remus thinks there might be tears in his eyes. Remus’ own heart is pounding frantically, and he’s completely rock hard at the sight of Sirius like this, but he also feels a bit lost and disconcerted– having never seen Sirius in this state before.

“Please, Moony,” Sirius whines, and oh, those words coming out of his mouth in that tone make Remus’ breath catch.

“Alright, alright,” he says soothingly, as though settling a wild animal, “Relax, Padfoot, I’ll take it out.”

Sirius groans in relief again, hanging his head. “Thank fucking hell,” he breathes. His hands are immediately at his belt and Remus feels himself blush even further, glancing around the bathroom even though he knows it’s empty.

He hears Sirius’ trousers drop to the floor and Remus closes his eyes to steady himself for a second before looking.

Sirius’ smooth, pale arse is lifted in the air, his slim, strong thighs actually shaking with the effort of holding himself together.

“Bloody hell, Sirius…” Remus mumbles, running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t fucking care, Moony,” Sirius says desperately, “Now is not the time to protest touching my arse! Just do it. Take it out.”

Remus huffs at the thought that Sirius thinks he’s bothered by this– well, he is, but not for the reasons Sirius thinks.

“Okay, hold your horses, Padfoot.”

He swallows thickly and reaches out a hand towards Sirius’ arse cheeks. This is fucking mad. He holds his breath, feeling a drop of sweat roll down his back, and places his palm on Sirius’ skin.

Sirius instantly bucks his hips and collapses forward, letting out another sinful moan that nearly shakes the walls.

“Sirius!” Remus shouts as he snaps his hand back. “You can’t do that!”

Sirius covers his head with his arms and practically whines. “I can’t help it! You don’t understand! It feels— fuck — I can’t help it, Moony!”

Sirius shudders out a deep breath and rubs his legs together. His cock must be impossibly hard too. Throbbing. Leaking. Oh, god.

Remus puts his face in his hands and tries to calm the fuck down. He’s going to kill James for putting him in this position.

Although… Remus was the one who eagerly volunteered to go after Sirius, which he didn’t have to do. And if he’s being honest with himself in this brief moment, trying to tune out the sounds of Sirius whining and wriggling, isn’t this the kind of erotic fantasy he could have only ever dreamt up in the dark of night with Sirius on his mind? Isn’t this all he’s ever wanted? Why the fuck would he want to put a stop to this?

“Re, please,” Sirius grits out, and that solidifies Remus’ mind.

Like hell he would pass up this opportunity. At least to see, to try.

Sirius is still bent over the counter, trousers pooled around his ankles, his arse in the air, head buried under his crossed arms. Remus steps into his space, close enough to feel the warmth of his body.

“I’m going to put my hand on you again,” he says, and his voice is deeper, more steady and sure. Sirius must hear the slight change in his tone because he goes still.

“Yeah,” Sirius breathes.

Remus places his palm on Sirius’ arse cheek and watches as Sirius’ muscles twitch and his body tenses all over.

Remus bends and leans his head closer to Sirius’. “Sirius?”

He gets a grunt in response.

“Are you… Are you sure you want me to take it out?”

There’s a pause, and then Sirius slowly lifts his head to look at Remus with hazy eyes. Fuck, Remus’ insides squirm at the blissed out anguish on Sirius’ face.

“W–what?” Sirius asks with a quick, shallow breath.

“I will if you want me to,” Remus says lowly– earnestly, because of course he will, “But is that what you want?”

He watches Sirius’ Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows thickly.

“I just…” Remus leans in even more, close enough to feel Sirius’ hot breath on his face, feeling emboldened by the look in Sirius’ misty, lust-filled eyes. “I just think it seems a bit of a…waste. You’re so wound up already, maybe you should… enjoy it?”

Sirius closes his eyes. “I… I–”

Remus watches a shiver rock through Sirius’ body, and he flexes his fingers still gripping the flesh of Sirius’ arse.

Sirius’ eyes flash open with a gasp. “Moony.”

In one quick motion, he straightens up and reaches out for Remus, yanking him forward by the shirt and crashing their mouths together. Remus manages a gasp of surprise before his arms are wrapping around Sirius, and he’s kissing him back with all he’s got.

Sirius is a writhing, trembling mess, trying to rub himself all over Remus like a horny cat.

“Fuck I’m so close,” he groans into Remus’ neck after breaking their lips apart.

Remus feels a wet tongue on his throat and realizes that he too is so close, bucking into Sirius’ hip. Sirius leans back with wide eyes, his mouth dropped open wide as he heaves deep breaths. “Are you– are you hard?”

Remus stills in disbelief. Is he kidding? “Are you kidding?”

Sirius blinks at him for two long seconds, and then a growl rips from his throat as he throws himself at Remus again.

Remus lets out his own noise of want and lust and reaches around to grip Sirius’ arse with both hands, pulling their bodies closer as they each chase their orgasms together.

“I– oh fuck, Moony, I’m going to– I need– unfgh–”

Apparently Sirius loses his ability to speak when he’s close to coming, resorting to babbling and breathing in heavy, quick pants onto Remus’ skin, which Remus files away as information to revisit later when he thinks about this unbelievable moment again and again and again for the rest of eternity. Surely nothing will ever happen in his life that will top what is happening to him right here and now with Sirius.

“Fuck, fuck, Moony– please – touch me–”

Remus doesn’t need to be asked twice. He brings one hand around to wrap around Sirius’ cock, eliciting an absolutely filthy, pornographic sound from Sirius that bounces around the walls of the empty bathroom.

“Yes, fuck, yes, yes–oh– FUCK –”

Remus turns his head in time to watch in the mirror as Sirius comes apart in his arms, his fingers gripping Remus (one hand in his hair, the other almost ripping Remus’ robes off), and then Remus is squeezing his eyes shut tight, his breath halting in his lungs as he ruts against Sirius.

“Do you need–” Sirius starts to ask as he tries to pull away.

“No!” Remus yanks Sirius against him again, his fingers digging so hard into Sirius’ arse that he’ll probably have bruises, his other hand flying to the back of Sirius’ neck to keep him in place. His whole body shudders as he grunts and comes harder than he ever has before, gasping in breaths before he passes out from lack of air.

“Holy fuck, Moony,” Sirius says, leaning back to look into Remus’ face. Sirius’ hair is damp on his forehead, his cheeks are flushed, and his lips are swollen ruby red. He looks like every single one of Remus’ wet dreams come to life. Except better. So much better.

Remus releases his death grip on Sirius and slowly, gently, pulls the vibrator from Sirius’ body. A small whimper escapes from Sirius and he quivers, but then relaxes against Remus as the vibrator plops into the sink. Remus hesitates before wrapping his arms around Sirius. It feels oddly natural, and they stand there for a minute as their heart rates and breathing return to normal.

“So, er,” Remus clears his throat.

Sirius turns his head from one side to the other so that he’s looking at Remus in the mirror. “So, er?”

“Still planning on murdering James?”

Sirius grins. “I’m closer to building a marble statue of him and worshiping at its feet.”

Remus wants to laugh at that. He does. He doesn’t. He frowns instead.

And the grin on Sirius’ face spreads into evil smirk territory. “Unless there’s someone else’s feet I should be worshiping at?”

“Oh, er… that’s– hm.”

Sirius just laughs and tilts his head away to meet Remus’ eyes. He’s actually an inch taller than Remus, but the way he’s melted into Remus makes him smaller, their bodies fitting perfectly against one another. The next thing he knows, Sirius is pressing their lips together.

It’s a much different kiss than before. Not frantic or closer to panting into each other’s mouths than actual lips on lips. It’s slow, soft, and sweeter than Remus’ favourite Honeyduke’s chocolate.

“Can we do that again?” Sirius whispers.

“Absolutely not,” Remus says, to which Sirius squeaks in outrage. “You are not allowed to have that thing inside you in class again. Or anywhere in public. That was pure torture for me, Sirius.”

“Excuse me?” Sirius gapes at him. “Torture for you?”

Remus nods simply. “But in private…”

It’s comical how quickly Sirius’ face changes from indignation to anticipation.

“Oh?”

“Mm. It’ll have to wait though,” Remus checks his watch before bending down to pull Sirius’ trousers up. “We have to get to Transfiguration.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow as Remus dresses him and fixes their robes. “Moony. I can’t feel my legs. You think I’m going to Transfiguration?”

Remus takes out his wand and shoots a cleaning spell at the plug sitting innocently in the sink, and then at himself since he came in his trousers like he was a fourteen-year-old. “I think,” he says, grabbing the plug and slipping it into his pocket with his wand, “If you’re good, you’ll get a reward later.”

A warm rush spreads through him as he manages to make Sirius Black blush and splutter.

He turns to leave with a smile on his face but is quickly yanked back by Sirius, his body colliding against Sirius’. A perfect fit again.

“Oh, Moony,” Sirius smiles sweetly at him, “Don’t forget: a reward for me can be a reward for you too, darling.”

#wolfstar #Wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar smut #ficbyweightyghosts #happy birthday moony

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thealtoduck · 2 years ago

Text

FEARLESS

Peter Parker x Male!Black Cat Reader

Warnings: Superhero violence…

Peter Parker x Male Black Cat!Reader: Masterlist

Summary: An average game of cat and mouse between Spider-Man and the Black Cat is interrupted by another foe…

——

It was an average night for web-slinging hero and his feline nemesis, it was the same old story the Black Cat had stolen something and Spider-Man was trying to retrieve it. This night Black Cat had stolen a bunch of jewelry from an auction.

Spider-Man was chasing the Black Cat across the the rooftops of Queens. You used your grappling hook to try swing away from the spandex clad hero. ”Get back here” you heard Spider-Man yell behind you as he swung after you.

When you landed on the building you kept running but you didn’t hear Spider-Man, then you felt a small thud on your back and you were pulled to a sudden stop making you fall backwards. Spider-Man had stuck a web to your back.

You laid on your back looking up at the stars then you rolled over and got up, you saw Spider-Man sprinting towards you so you took a fighting stance and the two of you started trading blows with each other.

Spider-Man managed to get the upper hand and tackled you to the ground. He managed to pin you down with his suprising strength, which probably meant you were fucked… ”Wow, you’re stronger than i thought Spider” you commented. ”Thanks a radioactive spider bite will do that to you” he answered back.

But then Spider-Man was kicked off of you by someone wearing a purple and yellow suit. The man jumped over you and started fighting with Spider-Man. Which gave you time to sneak away, you spared the two one last glance before grappling away.

When you had found a place a bit further away you watched the fight between the two. The unknown guy was an incredibly skilled fighter and was challenging even for Spider-Man.

Spider-Man was starting to get overwhelmed while taking the defence as the guy was attacking him. You decided it was best to probably get going now, but something stopped you.

What if that guy was going to kill Spider-Man, what would happen to Queens if Spider-Man wasn’t there to protect everyone. You tried to ignore your thoughts and walk away from it but knew it was the wrong thing to do.

But then you thought of Peter, he would’ve never left anyone to die no matter who it was. You also knew he’d never forgive you if he knew you’d left Spider-Man to die.

”God dammit, Peter’s conscience is rubbing off on me” you thought to yourself, you dropped your bag of stolen jewelry and grappled back towards the two. The man had managed to knock Spider-Man down to the ground and just as he was about to land the finishing blow. You swept in with the grappling hook and kicked him to the side.

”Not so fast, that’s my Spider to step on” you stated sassily. ”You incompitent street rat, if you had stayed out of this, you would have been safe” the man said with a heavy accent. You ignored him and asked ”And who are you? Captain Canada?”.

He then said angrily ”I am Batroc the Leaper and i am french you little-” but was cut of by you throwing a smoke granade right in his face. He coughed and you quickly went on the attack with the claws on your gloves out. You managed to get a few cuts and scratches on him but you were no match for him so you knew you needed another solution.

You knew Spider-Man was knocked out but his suit had a built in computer so maybe it could help you. You threw another smoke granade at Batroc and ran over to Spider-Man and said quickly ”Spider-computer activate electric web” hoping it would listen to you.

You took the web shooter of his wrist a put it on to your’s and begged to god that the computer had listened. Batroc leapt at you through the smoke and you closed your eyes and fired.

You waited for the impact of his fist on your face but it never came, you opened your eyes and only a meter in front of you Batroc was laying on the rooftop twitching and twisting from the electric web.

You exhaled in relief and went over to the knocked out Spider-Man and said ”Rise and shine Spider, i took care of the canadian”. The eyes on Spider-Man’s suit flickered to life and he asked softly ”Cat? Is that you”. You ignored his questions as you heard sirens in the distance.

You only said ”You owe me one” and grappled away to retrieve your stolen jewelry and take it to your safe house.

Third person pov:

When Peter had recovered for a bit he saw Batroc laying webbed up and passed out a bit away from him, Peter stood up and noticed his left web shooter was missing. ”Great, Black Cat took it, now i’m gonna have to ask Mr Stark for a new one” he said to himself.

Karen then spoke up in Peter’s ear saying ”I can track down the web shooter if you want me to”. But Peter thought about it, Black Cat had risked his life for him after all. ”No Karen it’s fine, i’ll get a new one, i had been thinking about a few new upgrades for it anyway” Peter said and prepared to hand over Batroc to the authorities.

#peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #spider man x male reader #spiderman x male reader #avengers x male reader #avengers x male!reader #marvel x male reader #marvel x male!reader #mcu x male reader #male reader #male!reader #x male reader #x male!reader

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soupyloopyx · 2 months ago

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main / pinned post (intro) - this is really long btw (sorry)

hi i'm soph, or sophy, but you can also call me soup :) she/her

i'm a minor so please don't be weird.

this is just a new intro post because the old one was so bad and also because!! i have 100 followers now!!!

music:

pretty obvious, but i'm a massive fan of taylor swift!

i also like: sabrina carpenter, arctic monkeys, the 1975, david bowie, maisie peters, paramore

a couple things about me:

i'm pan yet lack cooking skills

i write :)

i'm from england

i should probably be studying right now

i'm doing music gcse and i play the clarinet !!

i'm have braces, right now they are purple

I LOVE MY CAT OREO SO MUCH WITH ALLLLLLL MY HEART

i love the marauders era, which brings us to...

fandoms i'm in: harry potter/marauders (yeah that's kind of it, i don't really do much other than that lol)

ships <3

marauders: wolfstar, jegulus, jily, rosekiller, dorlene, marylily, pandalily

harry potter: drarry, romione, pansy x hermione

i have a cat called oreo and he is genuinely the cutest thing ever, so i had to share and give him his own section <3

eras tour section:

london night 7 (19th august 2024), block 503, row 2, seat 89

surprise songs: long live/change, the archer/you're on your own kid

outfits: pink lover, silver noodles fearless, not tv red, wonderstruck speak now, normal rep, blue folkmore, blue/orange 1989, ily ttpd + black with white jacket, pink ss, pink midnights + stars and moon + redpink jacket

please be my friend if:

you share my music taste or want to introduce me to people

you want to be lol

you like my posts

you aren't a creep

you like me in general

we have the same ships :)

please don't interact if:

you are "anti-taylor"... i don't care if you don't like her, but if you actively hate her, then what's the point in following me??

you're racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, etc.

you're a creep. i will block you.

you're a bot/your account is used to promote any kind of sexual service

ALSO GUYS HI THIS IS IMPORTANT!!!!!!!!!!!!

since i hit 100 followers, i should probably do something special (i didn't think i would even get 10 help me)

SO be on the look out for that <3

yeah so i do want to use this tumblr for fanfics as well as a personal account because my writing is personal to me. i think i'll go back to posting scenes and funny bits i've written. also, since everything takes so long to write lol, i should post """spoilers""" or just what i'm working on.

in english, we've been doing so much goddamn analysis of language and structure that i'm not even motivated to write anything but analysis so 😭😭😭😭😭

this is the end, fellas. see ya around.

#intro #intro post #introduction #taylor swift #soup #soupyloopyx #marauders #ao3 #eras tour #fanfiction #this is me #idk what to say guys it's just a redo of my intro #oh this is REALLY LONG BTW #pinned post #pinned intro #100 followers #i love you all so much

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yourtwistedlies · 9 months ago

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❝ women’s hearts are lethal weapons ❞

val ! ✩ she/her ✩ minor ✩ jason grace’s gf (REAL) ✩ speak now obsessed ✩ gracie abrams lovebot ✩ summer baby ✩ certified procrastinator ✩ professional listener ✩ pathological people pleaser ✩ general amaya’s #1 fan ✩ fitz vacker defender ✩ honorary grammar police ✩ kpop stan (mostly ggs) ✩ my moots’ cheerleader ✩ under the illusion i can write ✩ somewhat smart ✩ cabin 13 girl ✩

dni: if you are racist, homophobic, xenophobic, support kill all ___, sexist, 18+ only, religiophobic, creepy, toxic, or literally just a jerk, please leave!

byi: i swear sometimes!! i also adore using cute nicknames and pet names for my moots!! if you don’t feel comfortable w/ that or anything else, please let me know <33

moots - wattpad - ao3 - carrd - follower event (coming soon ⁉️) - save the children!

•̩̩͙⁺ the basics ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

call me valerie/val or twisted!!

she/her, straight (heterosexual), minor (18+ only acc’s please do not follow), 18+ do not interact unless i interact first or we are moots (on my list or to be added- i am the judge of who is to be added), cancer (zodiac, but i don’t believe in them), Christian (i post about it sometimes), << summer baby, entp (mbti), 8w7 (enneagram), ambivert, slytherin, cabin 13, shade (guys i swear i wasn’t trying to be edgy or smth with the past two and this 😭😭 i took the official quizzes i promise lmao), swiftie, kpop fan, staying up writing until 4am gives me life, purple is the best color (this is not up to debate, only yellow even comes close), proud notes app writer, CATS > DOGS (occasionally my verdict changes), bunny lover, chronic platonic sofitzer, i’m either hyperactive or extremely tired (there is no in between), people say im smart, but sometimes i feel like the biggest idiot ever lmao, and ofc dex dizznee’s much needed publicist (my favorite role of mine ever)!!!

•̩̩͙⁺ music ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

taylor swift, olivia rodrigo, sza, conan gray, alicia keys, emei, gracie abrams, maisie peters, sabrina carpenter, laufey, queen riri (rihanna), adele, beabadoobee, tiffany day, le sserafim, ive, newjeans, itzy, nmixx, stay-c, aespa, everglow, txt (baby fan), illit ＆ more kpop, lizzy mcalpine, pheobe bridgers, nessa barrett, pinkpantheress, claire rosinkranz, lyn lapid, alessia cara, reneé rapp, mckenna grace, and more!!

as i hope you can tell, i like a lot of music :)

•̩̩͙⁺ books ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

pjo, hoo, (never read toa, but yes, ik what happens in tbm), the rrverse, kotlc, city spies, ss (spy school), alex rider (not done with rr), the academy for the unbreakable arts,

and my many other fandoms i’ve forgotten about (dead magisterium fandom oop-)

i’ll add more fandoms as i remember them lol

•̩̩͙⁺ ships ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

rayllum, clauderry (stfu they’re adorable), percabeth (otp energy), sokeefe, dexiana, tiana (yes i know im the most indecisive bitch ever shut up you toad /jjjj i actually love u platonically), jason grace x ME (/j but i do love him lol), and more!!

•̩̩͙⁺ blogs ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

side blog: @yourtangledpromises

taylor blog: @iknowplxces (guys this is so abandoned + has my old intro 🤮 ignore this js trust - august 15 2024 val)

and perhaps more?? (muahahaha)

•̩̩͙⁺ side note ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

if you’d like to be added to my moots list, or talk, please tell me (by wonder girls)!!

if we’re moots we’re actually bffs now (you just don’t notice it yet)

if i don’t respond to your ask/tag/rb/literally anything immediately i am not ignoring you!! i’m just lazy or busy and will do it later <33

im your biggest fan btw

1 Corinthians 16:14

with love,

valerie

#yayyyyy #pinned post time babyyyy #basically just me rambling abt myself lmao #pinned post #∿ 𖨌 {🧭} ₊˚.⋆☾ navigation ៸៸﹡.❤︎︎#ʋαʅ #intro #updated enneagram august 14 2024 #updated removed coming soon blogs + updated Taylor blog desc august 15 2024

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inkluvs · 1 year ago

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ribs — send me a sfw request --- [ NUZZLE ] sender presses their face into receiver’s neck with tasm! peter parker and happy\extroverted!reader?

special spidey abilities

wooo ok i hope u like this i had a ton of fun writing it <3 <3(ps i lowkey forgot about the happy/extroverted part i hope u don't mind) tw: mentions of sickness ; peter's lack of concern for his health ; pet names ; (0.3k)

tasm! peter parker x reader

The wooden floorboards creak under Peter’s socked feet, startling you for just a second until you recognize the feel of his skin against yours. His nose is cold against your neck, pale freckled skin flush against your jugular.

“You’re home early.” The rain on his suit seeps into the cotton of your shirt, the fabric sticky against your skin. “S’it raining hard?”

“Missed you,” he murmurs, palms kneading against the pouch of your tummy.

“Missed you too,” you say softly, letting a fork clatter back into the sink, before turning around and leaning into him. “Now about the rain? Pete you can’t get a cold you’ll feel miserable.”

For a few minutes he stays quiet, just breathing in the smell of your shirt and shampoo, pressing a kiss here or there every so often.

“It rained an hour ago, poured, really. It’s been drizzling on and off since then.”

“Peter,” you scold. “You’re gonna get sick.”

He mumbles something incoherent into your skin and you hum in question.

“I won’t get sick.” He decides.

You tilt your head and he laughs, the sound warm and comforting. He wasn’t laughing at your confusion, more so the way you mannerisms were similar to that of a cat.

“How?” Your hands smooths against the skin of his arm, rubbing over a faded stretch mark, a slight purple hue still visible on the skin.

“You won’t let me get sick.” He says simply, “And I have special spidey abilities. Keeps me healthy.”

Your nose wrinkles at the latter, “‘s a mouthful don’t you think? Special spider abilities. Plus, Pete, I can’t keep you healthy if you go out and get wet can I?”

“You say that and you’re still pressed against me.” He teases, cheeks pinched in a grin. Your brows pucker and he relents, “I’ll go take a shower now ‘kay?”

It takes him 10 minutes to shower, and another 5 to walk from the bathroom and lean against the kitchen counter, shaking his head like a dog to dry his hair. The droplets splatter onto your pajamas and you gasp, laughing as you turn around.

“‘m sorry honey,” he pouts, a twitch in the corner of his lips betraying his expression, “take it off for me, yeah?”

#ivy’s inbox 💌#ivy is writing !#{ivy's summer celly}#event.ribs #peter parker (ivy’s version)#tasm peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter parker #tasm #peter parker fanfic #peter parker #tasm peter fluff #tasm peter imagines #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter one shot #tasm!peter imagine #tasm peter x you #tasm peter parker x reader

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tinkerbelle05 · 1 year ago

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Colors of the rainbow

Character: Spiderman Noir x Masc!Black!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: (Requested) Thanks 🖤 Spiderman noir x male reader romance? :D You show Peter the colors of the pride flag and he comes in love with all of the colors

Warnings: uses the word queer and mentions queer ppl, if you don't like then scroll away.

“What is that?” Peter asked, the confusion was evident in his voice and widen eyes. He was pointing to your pride flag that was hanging on the wall.

You were confused at first but then remembered, his universe was black and white, with shades of gray. He knew the names of colors but just not what they were. One time he mistook green for red and red for purple.

You unhooked the flag from your wall and held up to him, “This is the pride flag, also known as the rainbow flag, and the colors that represents those who are queer.”

He stares the flag intently and took it from your grasp. “Wow, look at all the colors. It looks like a rubric cube.”

You stifle a laugh at his comment but nod your head, “Yea I guess you are right.”

“The flag. Does it represent anything?”

“Yea it does. Red represents life, Orange is healing, Yellow is sunlight, Green is nature, Indigo is serenity, and violet is the spirit of queer people,” you explain to him and points to each color as you go down.

He listens to you intently and commits every word to memory. “The flag is beautiful and the meanings are even more so. Do you have any other flags with these amazing colors?”

His curiosity was cute and you couldn't wait to show him the different flags. You spent most of the day researching and looking up all the other pride flags for Peter to gawk at.

The harder Peter smiles, the deeper his two dimples get, and he starts talking fast. You don't think he even notices it and you can barely make out what he's saying.

"Wow, now this is a flag that you would normally see in my universe," Peter says and shows you the phone. It's a black and white striped flag.

After a while, it was safe to say that Peter had become in a way obsessed with the flags. He’s unlabeled for all intents and purposes but he has a whole closet of queer merch.

“Uh Pete, what’s all this?” you asked while you were cleaning your apartment. You found everything, was this all of the packages that kept coming to your apartment?!

There were multiple flags of varying sizes. There were pride stickers and slogans. Even clothes; shirts, sweaters, pants, socks, etc.

He comes up behind you, “Oh my pride collection,” he answers easily and walks away.

He’s pri-what?

You follow him into the kitchen and watch as he grabs an apple, “But why so many?”

“Why not? It’s pretty and colorful. And the designs are amazing!” he explains to you and takes a bite of the apple. “And supporting small businesses is always a good thing too.”

With his reasonings, you couldn't argue with it. You walk over to the couch and collapse into the soft cushions, "Okay Pete, just make sure it doesn't get too cramped, okay?"

He gives you a distracted yea and you watch him marvel at the pride decorations.

Tags: @butterfi, @hoeboat101, @ellatienesuscosas, @itstooearly-its3am, @eight-cats-in-a-box, @andhdi68a, @yourtsahik, @randomhoex, @badbehaviorxx, @sawi-06, @spider-bren, @somber-starz, @jam-skullz, @rosebunny, @dreamxcollide, @shibble, @mur-docs, @nagi3seastorm, @im-jisoo-im-okay, @universallypeanutpizzapersona, @maypersonne, @midnight-the-shadow-wolf, @707xn, @avatarl0v3r, @jell0buss-37, @laylasbunbunny, @minimari415, @keawio, @centipider, @gw3ndyswonderland,, @avatarl0v3r, @minimari415, @emgavi, @sleepdeprivationis4coolkids, @vixqn, @nerdyparker616, @jell0buss-37, @avatarl0v3r, @keawio, @ellatienesuscosas, @baneofthemultiverse, @skullux, @luci1fer, @1uvvmi, @thebestandtherealestever, @baneofthemultiverse

Masterlist & Reqs Info & Taglist & Anonlist & 500 Follower Celebration!

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late-to-the-party-81 · 1 year ago

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He who Lovescraft loves loudest

AN: Here is my contribution to Stucky Halloween. I don’t really do true scary things, so I went a bit of a different route.

Big thanks go to @greekgeek24 for organising the event and making not only the cover for this fic, and for all the fics that are being entered, but also for the custom bonus image she made for me to share with you guys - you'll find it at the end.

Another big thanks goes to @zenaidamacrouras1 for beta-ing and giggling along to this silly story.

This story also fills Square O2 of my @stuckybingo card - Eldritch Horror as well as the October challenge prompt - Haunted House, and Square B3 on my @steverogersbingo card - Himbo Steve.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Summary: There’s some scary goings-on around campus. Several students have ended up in hospital, traumatised by something they’ve seen. Bucky, Steve, Sam, Nat and Alpine decide to investigate. Will they discover what’s going on and more importantly, will Bucky get lucky with Steve?

Relationships: Cap Quartet friendship, Steve x Bucky, FWB Nat x Sam.

Word Count: 6k

CW: College AU (all are late teens/early 20’s), kissing, groping, suggestive language, Bucky is constantly horny, Steve is a bit of a himbo, Nat has Sam right where she wants him, Scooby-doo inspired, crack treated seriously, cartoon style slapstick, Alpine is obviously the heroine, recreational drug usage (it goes without saying that in real life you should not have your cat inside your hotbox....)

It was quiet and peaceful in the library until Sam and Nat burst in. Steve had said he wanted to study, but Bucky had managed to convince him, as easily as usual, that making out would also be a good use of their time.

Bucky was straddling his boyfriend's sinfully muscular thighs, arms wrapped around his neck, enjoying the feel of Steve’s lips against his own. Enjoying the way Steve’s tongue was snaking its way into his mouth. Enjoying the way both of their partially chubbed up cocks were pressed against each other through their layers of clothes.

It was in the back of his mind that it would probably be relatively easy to convince Steve to abandon the library altogether for the soft bench seats in the back of his van and a lot less clothing. However, that’s when the other two appeared.

Nat, making a statement with her skin tight purple jeans and matching top, threw her bag down onto the table and slumped into the nearest uncomfortable wooden chair, all the while making gagging sounds. Bucky pulled away from Steve with a sigh, sliding back onto his own chair. Steve chased his lips for a few seconds before realising why Bucky was no longer kissing the shit outta him. He blushed and immediately turned back to his books, pointlessly trying to make it look as though that was what he’d been doing all along.

“I don’t even know why you two even bother coming to the library to study,” Sam teased, smoothing out his orange turtleneck. “One of these days Mrs. Parker is gonna catch you and throw you out. That’s if she doesn’t throw you out for smuggling your cat in.”

Bucky spun his chair around, planted his feet in Nat’s lap and tilted his head back to seeSam pointing at Bucky’s backpack. As if on queue, a small, white, furry head popped out of the open zipper.

“Mrow.” Bucky reached out his hand to scritch the top of her head and she started to purr.

“Nah. Mrs P loves Alpine. Who do you think gave my princess a taste for fresh cooked chicken? And she loves me too, especially after I helped her nephew study for his mechanics exam. Doc Octavious gave Peter an A. ”

“I don’t know how you do it, man,” Sam grumbled. “You never seem to study, but still manage to ace all your classes. Meanwhile the rest of us gotta work double time. Especially Goldilocks over there.” Sam jerked his thumb and Bucky twisted in his seat. Steve had gone back to his books, but he still had a cute flush covering his neck and cheeks and his hair was adorably mussed. Bucky smiled indulgently, taking in the sight of his boyfriend in his tight navy slacks and white cotton shirt, before turning back to Sam.

“It’s not my fault I’ve got more natural talent than any of you goobers.” Nat glared at him and shoved his booted feet from her knees. “What are you two here for anyway? I thought you were going to have your own ‘study session’.” He raised his hands in air quotes and Nat’s glare got more intense. Alpine ducked her head back into the bag.

“We’re here,” she ground out, “because there’s been another attack.” Bucky looked at Nat askance and her announcement even got Steve’s attention as his head snapped up too.

“Yikes! Who was it, and when?” Steve’s shyness at being caught making out melted away, replaced with his no-nonsense ‘mother-hen’ tone. Bucky decided he loved Steve all the more for it.

Sam moved around the table and sat down on Steve’s other side. “It was Clint and Laura. They were found late last night, wandering around near the campus coffee shop.” He pulled a fold out map from his jeans pocket and spread it across the table. Steve picked up one of his pencils and, tongue poking out between his lips, drew an X on it. It was the fourth such mark on the paper.

Bucky scooched his chair closer, pushed his shaggy, shoulder-length hair out of his face, and peered over Steve’s shoulder. Nat got up from her seat and stood behind all of them, resting her hand on Bucky’s back.

“They were crying and talking nonsense when Campus security found them. They’re up at the hospital. I was gonna go up there in a bit and see if I could get anything out of them.” Her tone was laced with anger and Bucky turned his head to look at the clenched fingers of her free hand. Outside of him, Sam and Steve, Clint was one of Nat’s closest friends and she also adored his long term girlfriend Laura, having announced early on that the pair were definitely ‘endgame’.

“I can’t believe that Dean Fury isn’t doing anything about this. This is the fifth attack in just over two weeks and he’s acting like it’s nothing but Spooky Season pranks that have gotten out of hand.”

Bucky wouldn’t put it past Nat to storm into Fury’s office and refuse to leave until he took it seriously. She might not be the tallest, but she was definitely scary when she wanted to be.

“I think I see a pattern,” Sam said, cautiously. His finger tapped down on the map. “Here are the first two attacks, then the third, fourth and finally, the one last night. They’re all within half a block of the old Borson house.”

Steve’s brows drew together. “But no-one has lived there for years. As I understand it, the realtors only just got hold of his daughter to get her to agree to sell.”

“It gives me the heeby-jeebies,” said Bucky. “But maybe we should check it out this evening?”

“Got any twos?” asked Sam.

“Go fish,” Nat responded before she held out her hand for the joint Bucky was passing her. Sam grumbled and drew a card from the deck.

It was smokey and dark in the back of Bucky’s van, but that wasn’t unusual. Nor was the fact that, once again, Bucky was sitting on Steve’s lap. Now he’d passed the joint on, he could return to kissing Steve.

Steve’s lips opened under his, so Bucky let go of his mouth full of smoke, shotgunning it to his boyfriend. Steve moaned back, his hands tightening on Bucky’s waist and rocking them together.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Buck. Must be the luckiest guy in school.”

“If we were alone you could be even luckier,” Bucky mumbled into the soft skin of Steve’s neck.

“But you’re not,” drawled Nat, “so clothes stay on and flies stay zipped. That means you, Barnes. We all know who the bad influence is around here.”

“Anyway,” added Sam, “aren’t you two supposed to be keeping a lookout? Can’t do that while your lips are attached together.”

Bucky turned his head and stuck his tongue out at Sam. “You’re such a square.”

Sam raised an eyebrow and took a long pull on the joint. “I think you need to reframe your definition, man. I’m sitting in the back of a beat up van, smoking a joint, keeping an eye out for an unknown monster terrorising our campus and getting beaten at ‘Go Fish!’ of all things. Also, I’m me. As far from square as they come.”

“Don’t get cocky, Wilson.” As she spoke, Nat stretched out her foot, placing it right into Sam’s crotch. Sam squeaked. Nat smiled.

“I still don’t quite understand what we’re even looking out for,” said Steve. “What did Laura say again?”

“Not a lot,” Nat replied as she stared down at her hand of cards, still rocking her foot back and forth. “She’s obviously traumatised from whatever it was that happened. Her parents said she wasn’t really talking at all, but when I got there she just grabbed hold of my shirt and pulled me really close. Then she just started muttering under her breath. The words ‘tentacles’ and ‘monster’. Then she let me go and went back to staring into space.” The others looked at her in horror, but Nat didn’t seem to notice. “Got any eights?”

Sam threw his cards down across the small table and the moment was broken. The slips of card slid across the melamine surface and Alpine, who had been lightly dozing upon it, opened her eyes and batted a few to the floor.

“Damn it, Romanoff. How the fuck do you do that?” Sam bent down with a huff to retrieve his cards, the joint wedged in the corner of his mouth.

“Observation, my dear Wilson. I can read you like a book.” As Sam sat back up, Nat plucked the joint from his lips and passed it back towards Steve and Bucky. She slipped around the table and slid onto the bench seat Sam was occupying, squishing him against the wall of the van. He grinned at her.

“And is that book the Karma Sutra?” He’d dropped his voice as low as it could go, pulling out all the stops.

“Depends how flexible you are, Sammy-boy.” Nat flicked the end of his nose and they both dissolved into giggles

Bucky, started to chuckle at their antics, when suddenly an ear-piercing scream from outside split the air.

“Jinkies!” Steve exclaimed and leapt to his feet, banging his head on the roof of the van and tumbling Bucky to the floor in the process. Both exclaimed in pain.

“Damn it, Stevie!”

“Sorry, Buck.” Steve rubbed at his head with one hand and with the other reached out to haul Bucky up from the floor. One strong jerk and Bucky was back on his feet. Bucky placed the joint in the ashtray and then rubbed at the ache in his ass. Sam and Nat were also on their feet and opening the sliding side door. Cool autumn air swirled into the space, flushing out the pungent fog they had all been cultivating.

Nat jumped down onto the asphalt, head tilted to the side as she waited to see whether any more noises would be forthcoming. She didn’t have to wait for long. A second scream met their ears and before any of the others could say anything she was off, sprinting towards whatever was happening. Sam and Steve looked at each other for a moment and then Sam sped away, hot on Nat’s heels.

“Nat! Wait!”

Bucky jumped down after him, but before he could follow suit he felt Steve’s large hands clamp down on his upper arms.

“Stay here, Bucky.”

“But Steve!” Bucky twisted in Steve’s hold to face him, confusion on his face.

“No, Bucky. I need to know you’re safe. Please. Stay here. You and Alpine. And we might need you to drive the van.” He dropped a kiss to Bucky’s forehead and then he was also running off into the streetlamp lit night.

Bucky watched him, mouth agape in stunned silence, before he stepped back and sat down on the edge of the open doorway.

“What the hell was that? Doesn’t he trust us, Al?” Bucky turned his head to look back into the van. Alpine was no longer sitting on the small table. “Al?” He stood up and then climbed into the van. “Alpine? Where are you, princess?” Bucky opened his backpack zipper wider, wondering whether his stalwart feline had decided to curl up in there for a snooze. No such luck.

Bucky planted his hands on his hips and let out a sigh. His girl was always trying to roam somewhere. He re-exited the van and strode over to bushes on the opposite side of the road.

“Alpine… Princess… Where are you sweetheart?” He ducked down but couldn’t see her. “Here, Alpine! Pss-pss-pss… I’ve got some chicken for you…” Bucky walked a little further down the sidewalk. She had to be around here somewhere. Just then, he caught movement in his peripheral vision; a dart of white disappearing between two fence planks.

“Ah-ha!” Bucky jogged off in pursuit. “You won’t get away from me.” He clambered over the short fence and followed the small blur of white into the shrubs. Branches snagged at his hair and his olive green t-shirt and he wished he’d worn a jacket now - it was a lot colder out here than he’d first thought and it would have protected his arms from getting scraped. The greenery thickened, forcing Bucky down onto his hands and knees. He shuffled forward and stuck his head and shoulders into a gap under one of the bushes. Alpine was sitting under it, swishing her tail angrily.

“There you are, Princess. Come on. Out you come. We need to get back to the van.” Carefully he reached out, but Alpine let out an uncharacteristic growl as he did. “Hey! What’s gotten into you?” She growled again, the hair on her back standing up on end. As Bucky looked at her in the gloom, he realised something. She wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at something behind him.

Bucky felt a chill go through him, and realised that the ground around him was taking on a green glow. He looked at Alpine, her fur also taking on the eerie hue.

“I don’t suppose that’s Sam, trying to scare the jeepers out of me?”

Alpine continued to growl.

“Didn’t think so…”

Bucky took a deep breath and then backed up quickly, intending to surprise whoever it was behind him with his speed. However, the weed from earlier had made him a little light-headed and as he stood up and spun around, the world spun with him. Something strange - green and non-human looking - started to coalesce in front of his eyes. It opened its mouth and let out an inhuman noise as something else wrapped around his arms. Bucky stepped back in alarm and caught his heel on a tree root. As he lost his balance the creature lost its grip on his arms, but that meant there was nothing to stop Bucky as he pitched backwards. Pain flared from the back of his skull as it connected with the ground. The green, monstrous figure loomed over him, getting closer, but the world continued to spin, before it all went black.

Bucky was shaking.

No. He was being shaken.

“Bucky. Baby. Please. Wake up. I need you to wake up.”

Bucky groaned. His head hurt so much and Steve’s voice was so loud.

“For god’s sake, Steve. Let him breathe.” That was Nat. Bucky groaned again and tried to open his eyes.

“M’okay, Steve,” he croaked out. “What happened? Where am I?”

He sat up, clinging onto Steve and finally managed to open his eyes. He was in the back of his van. Hazy memories flooded back in.

“Alpine! Where is she?” Bucky whipped his head around looking for his beloved pet, but he just went dizzy again and had to cling to Steve harder.

“She’s here, man.” Sam knelt down beside him, a struggling bundle of white fluff in his arms. He opened them and Alpine jumped down onto Bucky’s lap, rubbing her head against his middle and purring. “We came back to the van after finding out that the screaming was Hope Van Dyne - Scott had jumped out on her to give her a scare. It apparently worked too well, although Scott is now sporting a black eye. But when we got back you weren’t here and the door was open. Steve was starting to have a nervous breakdown when Al came running out from the trees, meowing her head off.”

Bucky felt Steve slide to sit down behind him and pull Bucky’s slimmer frame against his broad chest. Bucky allowed himself to be pulled into the hug and Sam continued.

“As soon as Steve got close to her she turned tail and ran off again, but stopped every few yards and looked behind her. She was seeing if we were following. What on earth were you doing in the yard of the Borson house?”

Bucky inhaled deeply, letting the smell of Steve’s cheap, but familiar, cologne sooth him. “It was Alpine. She ran in there first and I followed. I didn’t realise it was the Borson yard. I was concentrating too much on getting my princess back.”

Nat sat down cross-legged next to him, eyes roving over his face as if she were a nurse checking for signs of concussion. Knowing Nat, that’s probably what she was actually doing. “We found you unconscious and Steve carried you back here. What happened?”

Bucky’s brow furrowed as he tried to recall the details. “There was some kind weird person - creature - and it grabbed me, and made this horrible squealing sound. It was green. But I slipped and fell. Banged my head. I didn’t even see it that clearly.”

Sam let out a whistle. “Jeepers! I know you were baked, but what in the HP Lovecraft did you see?”

“I really don’t know, but I want to go home.”

Bucky was still nursing a headache the next day, which sucked for two reasons. Firstly, it was Halloween, and he, Steve, Nat and Sam were supposed to be going to a party tonight and currently he wasn’t feeling it. Secondly, it was making it harder than normal to pay attention in Professor Zemo’s History of Conflict in Europe class. He just wanted to go to sleep, preferably with his head resting on Steve’s stomach as his blonde boyfriend combed his fingers through his hair.

“Are you with us, Mr Barnes?” Sam jabbed him in the ribs and Bucky lifted his head to find that the Professor's accented voice was aimed solely at him. He realised he must have been staring off into space.

“Sorry, Professor. I didn’t sleep very well last night.” Bucky mumbled his apology into his chest. Professor Zemo sighed and briefly pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Mr Barnes, please don’t make your nocturnal habits anyone else’s problem except your own. You can waste your own time if you want, but you will not waste mine. If you can’t give my class the proper attention then please avail yourself of the door.”

Bucky squirmed in his seat from embarrassment, aware of the heat in his cheeks that was probably turning his face bright pink. “I… umm…”

“Don’t be so hard on him, Prof. It wasn’t his fault. He got attacked by the monster last night.” Sam’s voice cut across the awkward tension in the air and Bucky didn’t know whether to hug him or hit him. However, his announcement had the effect of distracting everyone in the lecture hall. Or rather now focusing them on Bucky for something other than being chewed out by Professor Zemo.

“You saw it?” Maria turned around in her seat in front of Bucky, eyes wide with intrigue. “What was it like?”

“And why aren’t you in the hospital like the others?” Carol, in the row behind leant forward.

“Well… I…” Bucky rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to formulate an answer that wouldn’t make him look like an idiot. Fortunately he was saved from answering by the Professor trying to get his classroom back in order.

“Settle down, everyone. There is no monster. It’s all just pranks by your immature peers, I’m sure. The only real damage is going to be to the property prices. Who’s going to want to live near such a rambunctious group? I sincerely hope that whoever is behind it stops soon. It’s bringing down the reputation of our centre of learning. But anyway, enough of this distraction. Are you staying or going, Mr Barnes?”

Still awash with embarrassment, Bucky mumbled “Staying, Sir,” under his breath, but it seemed to placate the Professor.

“Alright then. Where were we? Ah, yes… the Peninsular War…”

“Are you sure I look alright, Buck?” Steve’s voice was laced with trepidation, but Bucky was having difficulty concentrating. He knew that Steve’s costume was going to be a vampire one - he was a werewolf to go with him - but Bucky hadn’t quite realised how revealing Steve’s outfit was going to be…

The main part of it was a red singlet which made Steve look as though he was about to start wrestling. Bucky thought that he might enjoy wrestling with Steve. Under the singlet was a shirt. Sort of. It was sheer. It had a built in cravat at the net and had multiple folds of fabric around the wrists. However, it stopped just above Steve’s glorious tits. To finish it off, there was a short black cape with a red ‘pop-up’ collar. On his feet Steve wore his shiny black dress shoes, his black socks pulled part way up his calves. It was definitely ‘a look’.

Not that Bucky’s outfit was much more dignified - a furry hooded cape with ears that just about covered his nipples, some kind of cross between grey sweatpants and yoga pants with a fuzzy tail, and a pair of furry gloves with claws. He’d just put his battered combat boots on to walk around. And right now he was walking closer to Steve.

He pressed his chest up against his boyfriend’s, wrapping his arms around Steve’s slim waist. He smiled to himself as he saw Steve’s eyes flutter shut as the fur of Bucky’s cape rubbed over his exposed nipples.

“You look so good, Steve, it makes me want to howl. Ow-ow-woo!” Bucky threw his head back and leaned into the bit.

“Buck….” Steve hissed between his teeth, his neck turning a very un-vampire like shade of pink.

“What? The only other person here is your mom and she knows how I feel about you. She’s rolled her eyes at me enough. But I promise to behave myself while we’re out. Or at least I promise to try. And you can’t blame me, baby. You’re so god-damn sexy.”

Steve seemed to have got over Bucky’s over the top reaction and looped his own arms around Bucky’s neck. “Right back at you, Buck. I can’t promise not to bite your neck.” Bucky snorted at Steve’s silly vampire accent but leaned in for a kiss. It started innocently enough, but as was normal for the two of them, hormones raging, it wasn’t long until Bucky was lying on his back on Steve’s bed, being pinned down in a way he couldn’t complain about. However, before things could move from PG-13 to Rated R, they became aware that there was a knocking on the front door downstairs.

As they listened to the dulcet tones of Sarah Rogers letting the visitors in, the two reluctantly drew apart and willed their erections to go down. There was one thing when your boyfriend’s mom knew what you were getting up to, but for her to see the evidence of it was another thing altogether.

Costumes sufficiently smoothed out, the two descended the stairs to find Sarah chatting to Sam and Nat in the hallway. The three looked up. Sarah Rogers let a small smile play over her lips as she took in the costumes of her son and his best-friend-turned-boyfriend. Nat and Sam grinned.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Slutty monsters of the night?” Sam drawled.

“Can it, Mr ‘Nat and I aren’t wearing a couples costume’. You’re Batman and Catwoman for fuck’s sake.”

Nat rolled her eyes behind her mask. “Yeah, and Batman and Catwoman aren’t a couple.”

“They are friends with benefits though,” smirked Steve. “So I suppose it tracks. I don’t know why you two don’t make it official.”

“Why spoil a good thing, Rogers? Natty and I both know where we stand, don’t we, kitten?” Sam turned his head and flashed Nat his signature gap-toothed smile. Nat extended a gloved hand toward him, fingers curled like claws.

“Me-ow! Now, let’s get going, boys! Halloween parties wait for no creatures.”

The four of them all hugged Sarah Rogers goodbye, and Bucky carefully picked up his backpack from her sofa, a sleeping Alpine still inside. Sarah had said that he could leave the cat with her, but Bucky had decided to bring his faithful feline with him and let her chill out in the van while the party was in full swing at Scott’s house.

He pulled himself up into the driver's seat, placing his backpack down next to him and tucking his tail to the side. Steve slid in on the other side and reached across to squeeze his thigh. Sam opened the side door and helped Nat hop up, even though she was capable of getting in on her own. When the door slammed shut again, Bucky turned the ignition and they were off.

Steve fiddled with the radio, turning on a local station playing a medley of Halloween hits. Thriller was currently playing. Bucky hummed along while he drove, drumming on the steering wheel while Sam sang along, slightly off pitch, in the back.

It was one of those ‘blink and you’d miss it’ moments. One moment they were driving along a fairly empty street, towards campus, the next the headlamps lit up a strange green form in front of them. Bucky slammed on the brakes. Steve reacted quickly, grabbing Bucky’s backpack and stopping it, and Alpine, sliding off onto the floor. In the back, Sam and Nat let out cries of displeasure as they were shaken about.

“What the hell, Barnes!”

Bucky twisted in his seat to meet Sam’s outraged gaze.

“Did you see that? Did you see it?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He put the car back in drive and pulled over to the side of the road and leapt out. He was looking around frantically as the others climbed out of the van. Steve reached into the backpack and placed Alpine on the ground and she wound around Bucky’s legs, sensing his discomfort. Steve placed his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I saw something green, Buck. But I wasn’t really paying attention.”

Bucky spun to face him. “It was him, Steve. The monster.”

Sam and Nat came to stand next to them.

“Are you sure, Bucky?” There was a gentle questioning note in Nat’s voice.

“Absolutely, Nat. I’m certain.”

“Well,” said Sam, rolling his shoulders and puffing out his bat symbol covered chest, “He can’t have gone far.”

Down on the ground Alpine started to paw at Bucky’s leg. “Mwerp.”

They all looked down at her. She cocked her head, turned around and trotted off.

“She’s doing it again,” said Nat. “She wants us to follow her.”

The four of them scrambled, Bucky only just remembering to lock the van, and they all jogged off after Alpine. She ducked down and squeezed under a gap in a fence and her faithful humans skidded to a stop.

“It’s the old Borson house again,” stated Steve. “Something very fishy is going on. Let’s go.” He started to climb over the fence, but stopped part way when he realised the others were looking at him. “What?”

“Seriously, man?” Sam raised an eyebrow. There was a heartbeat of silence, and then Sam shook his head in resignation. “Okay. Let’s go.” He followed Steve over the fence and held his hand out to Nat. She gave him a look and practically vaulted over, landing crouched, one hand on the floor between her bent knees. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Such a poser.”

“You’re just jealous that you can’t do it,” Nat retorted.

Bucky snorted, but clambered over the wooden panel in a more sedate manner. He didn’t trust himself not to fall flat on his face. Nat smirked at him.

With them now all standing in the yard, the very place that Bucky had been the night before, Alpine trotted back over, chirped at them and swished her tail.

“Okay,” said Steve, back in full-blown ‘large and in charge’ mode, which made Bucky’s heart pound loudly in his chest. “Let’s split up. Sam, Nat. You check the yard. Me, Buck and Alpine will go inside. Whoever finishes first joins up with the others. Let’s put an end to whatever this is.” They all nodded their agreement and Sam and Nat snuck off into the trees, black costumes helping them blend right into the shadows.

Bucky turned to Steve and took his hand with a smile. “Do you think you’ll need an invitation to step over the threshold?”

“Ha ha, Buck. Come on.”

The front steps creaked ominously as they walked up them. Bucky clung to Steve’s back, now starting to feel a little creeped out.The only thing stopping him from going into full blown panic was wondering how Steve could be so calm and collected while his nipples were exposed and currently pointy enough to cut glass. “What do you think we’ll find in there, Steve?” Bucky asked. “A monster?”

“Pphht. It can’t be that scary.” Steve pushed open the front door, and they walked into the gloomy interior.

Something brushed up against Bucky’s leg and he let out a shriek that he quickly muffled with his hands. Looking down he saw Alpine’s reflective eyes looking back at him. Letting out a sigh of relief, Bucky bent down and picked her up. She wiggled out of his arms and settled on his fur-cape covered shoulder.

“You wanna be close too, princess? I don’t blame you.”

He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, sweeping it back and forth across the floor and walls. The house was still furnished, with thick layers of dust covering every flat surface. When old man Borson had died neither his daughter or two sons had really wanted anything to do with him or his things. It was sad, really.

Suddenly a noise ripped through the air, something akin to a hiss crossed with a scream. The two young men came to a halt.

“What on earth?” Bucky felt Steve’s voice rumble in his chest as he buried his head into Steve’s back.

“I don’t like this, Steve.” He remembered the fear and disorientation that he’d felt last night and tried to repress a full body shudder.

The noise sounded again and they turned their heads towards the stairwell. The sound was coming from above them. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom, a green glow could clearly be seen. Bucky gulped.

“We’re gonna go up there, aren’t we?”

“We gotta, Buck. We gotta do this for Clint and Laura, and the others who were hurt before them.”

Bucky nodded against Steve’s back. He could do this.

Slowly they walked towards the stairs, making their way up, one step at a time. The unnatural glowing got more intense and while there were no more screams, the ominous hissing got louder and louder. They crept, one foot after the other, closer and closer towards the partially open door at the end of the corridor, Bucky’s fingers curled around Steve’s red, spandex singlet. Steve stopped, one hand raised a hair’s-breadth from the old, scarred wood and looked at Bucky. His eyes looked strange under the eerie glow, but he looked so sure, so brave that Bucky knew he’d follow Steve anywhere, even if he did currently look like a cross between Bela Lugosi and Bret ‘The Hitman’ Hart. Bucky gave him a small nod, and Steve pushed the door.

The creature stood there, illuminated by its sickly green glow. Its face had two dark eyes, but where its mouth was, it seemed as though it had half-swallowed some kind of squid. Tentacles curled down around its chin, glistening with slime. It had two long arms, ending with three fingers and claws, which it raised menacingly at the two young men.

Bucky and Steve lept in the air as it screamed, that ear-piercing sound combined with a hiss. They screamed in return, filled with terror and Alpine leapt down from Bucky’s shoulder, hair on end, hissing and spitting. They all turned tail and ran. Alpine was in front, her four legs carrying her faster and far more elegantly than either Steve or Bucky. Next was Steve, barrelling forward, clasping Bucky’s smaller hand in his, practically dragging him along behind. Bucky stumbled, bringing up the rear. He kept turning his head, shrieking incoherently as he realised the monster was right behind them.

They thundered down the stairs, across the entrance hallway and out of the front door, Steve almost ripping it from the hinges as he pulled it open.

“Nat! Sam!” Steve shouted out for their friends as he dragged Bucky across the lawn.

“Here!” They heard Nat shout and turned to see her standing by the trees at the bottom of the yard - the place where they’d found Bucky yesterday. She waved them towards her. “This way!”

They turned toward her and carried on running. “He’s still coming,” Bucky wailed. What he wouldn’t give to be an actual werewolf right now. He could rip out its throat or something. They stumbled into the shrubbery, Nat having melted back into the darkness. Why did she want them to go this way? Surely it would have just been better to escape by running out the front gate and heading back to the van?

They ran between two trees, and as they did so, they heard Sam shout out.

“Now!”

Instinctually, Bucky and Steve came to a halt and turned around. The monster was bearing down on them, getting closer, when suddenly it tripped on something and crashed to the ground. Immediately, Nat launched herself from the shadows and landed on the creature’s back. She jerked his arms up and cuffed them together. At the same time Alpine leapt down from a tree, landing on the creature's head. She dug her claws into its skull and it let out an all too human type of noise.

“What the heck?” Bucky was dumbfounded. What just happened? Where had Nat found handcuffs? Why wasn’t she scared? She stood up, brushing loose dirt from her pleather outfit and sauntered over to Bucky.

“We used a tripwire from Sam’s utility belt. The handcuffs are also part of Sam’s costume and I wasn’t scared because of what he and I found in the shed before you two wusses came shooting out of the house.” She patted Bucky’s cheek and he wondered if she’d read his mind or whether he’d actually spoken out loud.

Steve, choosing to ignore Nat’s teasing comment, looked down at the struggling creature in the dirt. “What did you find?”

Sam placed a booted foot in the small of the creature’s back, pinning it to the floor and trained his phone flashlight on it. “We found costume making supplies. And glow sticks. Lots and lots of green glow sticks.”

“Plus instructions on how to make a small speaker. Cos-play stuff really,” Nat chimed in, adding her flashlight to the mix.

“But that means…” Bucky’s jaw dropped and he strode over to their struggling captive, dropping into a crouch. “This isn’t a monster at all. It’s someone dressed up and trying to scare everyone. Just like the Dean and Professor Zemo said. But who?”

Sam helped him to manhandle the creature into a sitting position, and now he was up close, seeing it lit up and having his hands on it, Bucky could clearly see the rubber and foam, the stitch marks and the little channels that had been made in the outside to house the multitude of glowsticks. Alpine came and sat down next to him, licking at a paw nonchalantly.

“Right - let’s see who you are.” Bucky grabbed hold of the monster’s head, soft and squishy rubber under his hand, and pulled to reveal…

“Professor Zemo!” The four of them exclaimed in shock.

The professor’s dark hair was plastered over his forehead, and in the torchlight his brown eyes gleamed with frustration.

“Yes, it’s me.” His lip turned up in a snarl and if he weren’t handcuffed, Bucky would have been reluctant to be this close to him.

“But why? What on earth do you get from scaring college students?”

“While I did enjoy a little of the karma from scaring some of your peers witless, it was more that I needed the house prices to come down. I wanted to buy the Borson house, but do you know how little a college professor makes? It was starting to work, too. The price had already been slashed once. I’d have gotten away with it too, if it wasn’t for you pesky kids.”

They all looked at him, dumbfounded, until Steve spoke up.

“Respectfully, Sir, that is really fucked up. Buck, sweetheart, can you call the police?”

“You kiss your momma with that mouth, Stevie?” Bucky sniggered, taken aback by Steve’s uncharacteristic swearing.

“No, but I’ll kiss my boyfriend with it.”

And he did. Just a vampire kissing his werewolf boyfriend in a dark, haunted stand of trees.

Sam made gagging sounds.

Nat called the cops.

Alpine purred.

The end.

Bonus: - They finally get to the party and have a fabulous time.

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @km-ffluv

#stuckyhalloween2023 #stucky fanfic #stucky fanart #steve rogers x bucky barnes #crack fic #college au #cap quartet #steve x bucky #alpine the cat

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laura-the-yellow-cat · 16 days ago

Text

Miss Kindness/Unkindness My NEW MSA X FNAF OC

Full Name: Miss Kindness/Unkindness, ___ ___ (in the past)

First Name:

Last Name:

Nicknames:

Gender: Female

Profile Pic

Age: 7 (deceased), 23

Blood Type:

Occupation:

Actual or Past Occupation:

Favourite Shows/Games: ___/___/___

(___,___,___)

Favourite Food:

Instrument:

Favourite Animal:

Family Members Relatives:

Other Family Members Relatives:

Species: Human (in the past), Animatronic Humanoid

Friends: Silver the blue tiger, Hexa the rockstar dragon, Rangey the farmer raccoon, Percy the pirate sailor parrot, Lew-Lew the singer lion, Celeste the humanoid princess, Tacy the Cheerleader Unicorn, Finley the green brave bear, Samson the humanoid sun and Mack the humanoid moon/The eleven victims-kids, Susan Walterson, Tia, Charlie, Freddy Fazbear, Markus, Bonnie the Bunny, Cream, Chica the Chicken, Foxy the Pirate Fox, Laura (in animatronic Yellow Cat from), Loxy, Golden Freddy, Black Charro, Gia, Sammy, Mindy Pepper, Maisy Pepper and Izzy, Sarah, Phillip and all allies

Enemies: Bert Willam/Ewald the evil mastermind criminal TV Guy, Mitford the humanoid boy doll, Purple Guy/William Afton/Springtrap/Springbonnie and Victor Anderson/Vladdy the forgotten Animatronic Demon/Vampire/Ghost Hybrid

Alignment: Good

Likes:

Dislikes:

Hobby:

Goals:

Weapons:

Powers and Abilities:

Skills and Abilities:

Fears/Phobias:

Skin Colour: ___ (in the past), ___ (her animatronic Humanoid from)

Eyes Colour: ___ (in the past), ___ (her animatronic Humanoid from)

Hair Colour: ___ (in the past), ___ (her animatronic Humanoid from)

Clothes: Dress with Peter Pan Collar (in the past), ___ (her animatronic Humanoid from)

Shoes: Mary Shoes (in the past), ___ (her animatronic Humanoid from)

Accessories: Bows (in the past), Headband with Flower (her animatronic Humanoid from)

Hair Styles: Pigtails (in the past), ___ (her animatronic Humanoid from)

Nationality:

Sexuality:

This one sounds like: Miss Delight (from Poppy Playtime) and Charlie (from Hazbin Hotel)

@sfcabanasstarcgs and @mysteryideasgroup

#msa x fnaf #msa au crossover #msa au #miss kindness/unkindness my new msa x fnaf oc

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beezusvreeland · 1 year ago

Text

a very good idea - chapter 8

summary: After your boyfriend cheats on you at a party, you break up with him, who tells you nobody else is willing to be with you like him. You decide to prove him wrong, with a little help from a new friend.

ship: miguel o'hara x f!reader

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 8

Harry: hey Harry: in case you haven’t blocked me yet…i’m sorry for everything, i know i screwed everything up Harry: you going to the party later? Harry: was wondering if we could talk Harry: promise i’ll behave

You put your phone back inside your purse, not quite knowing how to react to Harry’s texts. For the past few weeks, you grew accustomed to hating him. A version of him, at least. The one who cheated and humiliated you, who sent a video of himself hooking up with a girl. You sighed. It hadn’t always been like that. There were good times. Great even, when he let his gentleness surpass his frustration with the world and everyone in it, including you. Reading his texts made you sad for these other parts of your relationship, the ones you hadn’t let go of enough to mourn yet.

You were in a corner of the living room, lost in your thoughts, while Jess was chatting with a teammate of hers nearby. At the improvised stage on the other end of the room, Gwen and her friends were tuning their instruments. People were coming inside to see the band play.

Gwen looked fantastic. With help from you and Jess, she settled for a black top with a pink skull drawn in it, black skirt, fishnet tights, a pair of white boots and, of course, Jenna’s purple jacket. Gwen took a sip of her beer and looking beyond you in the crowd, opened a smile. You looked in the same direction, finding Miles, Peter and Miguel. You waved at them.

“Look what the cat dragged in!”, you joked.

“And here I was thinking we’re becoming good friends, even hanging outside of school property!”, Peter put a hand on his chest, pretending to be hurt.

“Did you guys start drinking before coming here or…?”

“No, this is sober Peter”, Miguel looked at his friend with a serious expression.

“Oh”, you couldn’t imagine what drunk Peter was like.

“Oh indeed.”

“You’re only saying that because you are sad drunk”, Peter complained.

“Am not.”

“Yes, you are. Isn’t it right, Miles?”

Miles was distracted, staring at Gwen.

“Yeah, sure”, he said.

Miguel groaned, making you laugh. He looked at you arching an eyebrow.

“Are you having fun with this, cariño?”

“Of course, watching you and Peter bicker like an old couple is very entertaining. Why else do you think I hang out with you guys so much?”

“Because Miguel needs help with his english homework and you think he’s hot”, Peter shrugged.

Your eyes widened. How dare he call you out like that. But also…

“Wait, is that what you told your friends we are doing?”, you turned to Miguel.

“I mean, I do need help with my english homework…That much is true”, Miguel gave you a smug look, not ashamed at all. You, on the other hand, felt your cheeks start burning. “About that other part…you have to confirm to me.”

“Confirm what?”, you played dumb to gain time, not knowing how the situation escalated so quickly. It was like you and Miguel couldn’t even talk anymore, only flirt.

“I guess you know, since you are all worked up about it.”

“I’m not worked up about anything.”

“I’d say you are, actually”, Peter intervened. He and Miguel fist bumped without looking at each other.

“And just like that, you two are working together again.”

“We never stopped working together”, Peter said. “Bros before…”, he stopped seeing your harsh look towards him.

“Oh, don’t stop because of me. Do go on”, you faked a smile.

“We’re bros”, Peter said, looking at Miguel, who was cringing.

“Ugh, yes, hermanos”, Miguel mumbled, pinching his nose.

“Boys are so weird.”

“Hey! You didn’t answer the question”, Peter pointed at you.

“What question?”, you asked innocently.

“You know damn well…”

“I have no idea, Peter Benjamin.”

“You sneaky little thing”, Miguel pursed his lips. “All this effort just to not admit…”

“That I think you are hot?”

“Well, yes…”, Miguel looked dumb founded.

“Fuck this, I’m so confused. I’m gonna get a beer”, Peter walked away.

Miguel got closer to you.

“Does it bother you that much not knowing what I think?, you barely recognized yourself or this game you were playing. But the thrill of it was one of the best things you have ever felt.

“Just admit it”, Miguel looked down on you, his hands finding your waist.

“How about this: I will answer your question if you answer one of mine.”

You could see him swallowing hard.

“Fine.”

“Why did you agree to pretend to be my boyfriend?”

“I needed a tutor…”

“You could’ve found any other tutor. But you accepted my offer.” You caught yourself wondering this more often than you’d like to admit. You had a reason to ask him, at least you thought so, but didn’t quite understand why he accepted so easily. It’s not like you two were friends, you knew each other for years, sure, but have never been friends. When you stopped to think about it, you didn’t know that much about Miguel.

“You don’t have to answer anymore”, he whispered.

You felt way more disappointed than you imagined you would be. As if pleading, you put your hands on his shirt, grasping it a little.

“But I have other questions. I wanna get to know you.”

“Do you?”, he looked surprised.

You nodded, refusing to break eye contact with him. He put a hand on your cheek, holding your face while he analyzed it. First your nose, then your cheeks. Your chin and even your ears. Miguel spent more time looking at your lips, his own mouth parted. His gaze eventually met yours, and you could tell there was so much there. There was no way you had imagined all the spark you saw in his eyes.

“I want to get to know you too.”

“Test one, two, three.”

You both turned to the stage, where a girl with beautiful beaded braids — Margo, you were pretty sure was her name — adjusted the microphone.

“Hi, everyone!”

Everyone cheered. Margo’s smile widened. On her right side, a girl held a guitar, on the other, a girl held a bass. Behind them, your very own Gwen Stacy smiled nervously on the drums. You felt like a proud mom, knowing how brave Gwen was being and how much she was overcoming by stepping into that stage.

“We’re the Mary Janes and we’re about to have some fun. Are you ready?”, Margo shouted. Gwen put her drumsticks in the air, knocking them three times. The first notes of “Only Happy When It Rains”, by Garbage, found your ears.

You knew the song from your favorite 90s teen comedies. You turn to tell Miguel that only to find him singing all the lyrics perfectly. His head shaking in the rhythm of the music, one of his hands still on your waist.

How could he question if you thought he was hot or not. There was so much to like: his soft olive skin, his deep eyes, his black curls that bounce with every inch of movement from him. You even liked his nose, which was new to you, because you didn’t usually think about guys' noses whatsoever. Miguel noticed you stare.

“What?”, he mouthed.

You shook your head, smiling at him.

“I like late 80s, early 90s pop rock”, Miguel said in your ear.

“I would have never guessed.” You really wouldn’t, but it was endearing to see him letting loose and having fun. Just being his true self.

The next song started with a distant sounding bell. Behind you, shouted: “Fuck yeah!!”

You laughed. “I guess you know the song?”

“Hazy Shade of Winter, by The Bangles, it’s great. You’re gonna love it!”

He was right. You did.

***

Jess found you after the concert, a huge smile on her face, that was just as sweaty as yours.

“How great was our girl?!”

“She was fantastic! I don’t know what I was expecting…were they always this good?”, you ask Miguel.

“Yeah, but they have improved a lot since the last concert I have watched. All the extra practicing is paying off.”

Jess raised an eyebrow at him, amused.

“Apparently Miguel here is a huge fan of female led 80s and 90s bands”, you pointed out, your growing smile mirroring hers.

“You are not gonna let that go, are you?”, Miguel pretended to be annoyed.

“I kind of love that for you, Miguel”, Jess said with sincerity. “The less toxic masculinity around my girl, the better.”

Miguel blushed, avoiding her gaze. Knowing Jess saw good in him made you feel better, happier even, for some reason.

“Here comes the rockstar!”, Miguel pointed at Gwen, who was running towards your group. Her hair was now in a ponytail, the jacket tied around her hips. She had the biggest smile on her face.

She gave each one of you a hug.

“You were incredible, blondie!”, Jess looked at her proudly.

“You really were, this was by far the best setlist you’ve had so far”, Miguel gave his friend a brotherly hug, making her laugh.

“Look at you, Gwenny!”, you put your hands on her flushed cheeks. “I loved seeing you up there. How are you feeling?”

She chuckled, her eyes catching up to her smile.

“Sweaty, relieved and in desperate need for a drink.”

“Let’s arrange that”, Jess grabbed her hand, the two walking towards the kitchen.

“Wanna go outside for a bit? I’m boiling here”, Miguel started making his way to the backyard and you followed.

It was much nicer outside. There was a little breeze and it was much quieter than inside. A few people were seated on the edge of a huge empty pool, talking and drinking. Others were scattered through the gardens. You and Miguel sat on a two person gray couch on the porch.

The two of you stayed in silence for a while, watching people run around and talk. You recognized a guy making girls laugh close to the pool.

“Isn’t that Ben O’Reilly?”, you turn to Miguel. Ben was a senior guy from your school who was involved with every single sport available for students. He could be extra and a bit of a show off, something that made Harry exceedingly annoyed, but you thought he was just funny and cheesy.

“Oh yeah”, Miguel looked at Ben’s direction. “I’m surprised he hasn’t brought his acoustic guitar with him.”

“What?”

“You know how every party has a guy that wants to impress people playing guitar? That’s O’Reilly.”

“Oh my God, I know exactly what you mean”, you laughed.

“Hey, girl, have you ever heard Wonderwall, by Oasis?”, Miguel forced a smooth pretentious voice.

“It’s either that or Mr. Brightside.”

Miguel cackled.

“Speaking of…”, he turned to you. “You now know about my music preferences, which makes it my turn to ask you a question.”

“Okay”, you looked back at him, feeling a little shy. You had no idea what type of question he had in mind.

“Do you have a favorite color?”

Not what you were expecting.

“Orange”, you said. “My turn. Do you have a best friend in your group? Or do you consider all of them equally?”

He seems to think about it for a minute.

“I mean, we are all friends…”, he considered. “But I guess if I had to vent or ask for help, I’d probably reach out to Peter. Don’t tell him that.”

“And listen to him getting all smug about it? Never”, your tone makes Miguel laugh. The sound makes you feel warm inside. “Still, Peter is so much better than the guys you used to hang out with in middle school. No offense.”

“None taken”, Miguel stares at his hands in silence. His reaction made you feel bad, even though you were being sincere.

“I mean, it’s not like I knew then…”, you tried to mend it. “I guess we are all kind of stupid during middle school, right?”

“You weren’t.”

The intensity in his eyes caught you by surprise. You didn’t know what to say to that, just that you shouldn’t have brought up that period of your lives up.

“Well, I definitely felt like it”, you let out a sad chuckle. “Your turn, come on.”

“Okay. What…”

“Miggy Miggy Miggy!”, Peter shouted from the door that led the kitchen to the backyard. He had a beer in his hands and a maniac look in his eyes.

“So I gather this is drunk Peter…”

“Yep, it’s him alright”, Miguel sounded annoyed.

Hobie held Peter by the elbow, looking distressed, which you didn’t think it was an emotion he could even feel.

“What happened?”, Miguel got up.

“We have a code red, Miguelito”, Hobie took a deep breath. He then saw you and gave a soft smile: ��Hi, there, sweetheart, you look really lovely tonight”.

“You too, Hobie”, you waved at him.

“I swear if Miguel here wasn’t obsessed with you…”

“Hobart!”, Miguel interrupted, growling. “Focus on the task at hand.”

Peter gave Hobie a sad look, grabbing his arm.

“Love isn’t real, my friend”, and just like that, Peter started crying.

“What is happening?”, you whisper to Miguel.

“Mary Jane!”, Peter shouted, prompting Miguel and Hobie to move in order to take him out of there.

“Oh, code red as in…”, you just then realized. It was kind of a smart name, actually. You knew Peter had a thing for Mary Jane, but had no idea it was so intense. He was always so nice and flirty with everyone, you just assumed it was the same with her.

“MJ Watson!”, Peter sobbed.

“Ay Dios mío! Hobs, let’s get him out of here”, Miguel put one of Peter’s arms around his neck. “I’ll be right back”, he said, looking back at you.

***

After a few minutes, you decide to go back inside and find Jess and Gwen. Before that though, you needed a drink.

The kitchen was a complete mess. Empty bottles and forgotten cups of beer and other mixtures on the counters and the floor was sticky. You felt bad for the owner of the house, even though you had no idea who they were. There were a few bottles of soda and juice around, mostly to be used in cocktails, but you refused to drink from an already opened container — you've heard way too many high school parties horror stories.

Opening the fridge, you found a can of beer. You didn’t particularly care about alcohol now. You used to drink more before to be able to handle school parties your mom insisted you go after your teachers had a talk with her about your difficulty socializing. You had never done anything stupid, but there was the eighth grade school dance, where you drank a bit too much “poisoned punch”. It had been a fun night, from what you remembered. What you didn’t remember was the issue: some conversations and moves on the dance floor. So you just avoided drinking, if you could.

“There you are.”

You stop mid sip, suddenly happy Miguel was back. When you turned, however, you found Harry’s face looking at you. He had his hands on his pockets and wore a blue navy sweater you had given him on Christmas. You felt nervous all of the sudden.

“I wasn’t sure you would come, you didn’t answer my messages”, Harry said, getting closer so he could be in front of you.

“Can you blame me?”

“No, no. I can’t”, he chuckled.

“What do you want, Harry?”, you had way less patience than you thought. “You humiliate me, harass me, then try to be nice?”

“I know, I’m sorry”, his answer surprised you. “I wanted to apologize to you for…all of it”, he sounded frustrated with himself. “I lost my way for the past few weeks.”

“Tell me about it”, you crossed your arms.

“I was behaving badly was a way to mask the fact that I miss you.”

“I see Norman Osborn still pays dr. Lenny really well for his weekly therapy sessions”, you pointed out.

Harry smiled.

“You know it”, he chuckled. “I think you’d like to know that dr. Lenny’s dad, my dad’s therapist, dr. Boris, is still working.”

“Wait, he is still alive?”, you try to do the math on your head. “Isn’t dr. Lenny, like, 70?”

“Turned 72 last may”, Harry lets out a full laugh. Without thinking about it, you do too. “My whole life dr. Boris has been extremely old.”

“That’s crazy.”

Slowly, the laughs faded away.

“I should get going”, you said, breaking the silence.

“Well, before that, I just…wanna say I’m sorry again and…”, Harry locked eyes with you. “I know I fucked up, and you probably will never want to be my girlfriend or even my friend again, which I get, but I wish we could at least not pretend like we don’t know each other, you know?”

You knew what he meant. Ignoring and avoiding Harry had been just as exhausting as dealing with him.

He looked up to someone behind you. “Please at least consider it”, Harry said, taking a step back. “It was good to see you.”

“Consider what?”

You turned to find Miguel. You wondered how much of your conversation with Harry he had heard. Would he be jealous? He wasn’t your boyfriend, not really, but did he care? Would he think you had lied and wanted to get back with your ex?

“Hey!”, you feel a bit breathless. “Is everything ok? Where is Peter?”

“Yeah, Hobie and I took him home”, he sounded more serious than usual. He had a sip of your beer and, grabbing your elbow like before, took you outside.

“You went to Queens and came back?”

“We borrowed Margo’s car.”

“Oh.”

You started walking around and he followed, without looking at you. You knew how to get back to how things were before.

“Hey! It’s your turn to ask a question.”

“What did you see in that guy?”, the words left Miguel’s mouth as if they were desperate to break free.

You looked at him, puzzled, but remained silent, your throat going dry. It was a trick question, to which you knew the answer. It was an embarrassing one. Sad even.

“Why did you go out with him in the first place?”

Miguel seemed aggravated, not with you specifically, you just happened to be on the other end of the conversation. His tone made your heart ache.

“You would never understand”, you sounded like you were on the verge of breaking.

“Try me”, Miguel had his arms opened, taking a few steps backwards.

“Because he liked me, ok?”, you burst. Something in you snaps and you let it go. All of it. “Because he was nice and asked me out on a date and not as a joke, he was the first one, God, the only one, to ever ask me out!”

Miguel stopped in his tracks. You couldn’t focus on his face long enough to read his expression. Your hands went through your hair as you tried to grasp something, anything, while your mind started to spiral.

“Harry saw me. You can say whatever you want about him, but he didn’t care what people said about me, he just…asked me out on a date and took me out to dinner and treated me like an actual person.”

With your hands on your hips, you looked up, trying to stop your tears from falling. “After a lifetime of being shoved on the corner, being called names and being invisible…someone saw me. For the first time, I was just a girl getting to have the same experiences girls my age do”, you took a deep breath. “I thought I wasn’t worthy of it.”

Silence. You wiped your tears and looked down at him. Miguel looked like he had just been punched in the stomach.

“There’s your answer”, you murmured, giving him a sad smile. Yet he didn’t move. He just stayed still. You thought that by having…whatever it was that you had, you would be able to protect your heart. But you were so wrong.

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a very good idea

#a very good idea #miguel o'hara fanfic #oscar isaac fic #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #fake relationship #friends to lovers #unrequited crush #Spotify

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