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Okay, hear me out: Arvin Russel and Peter Parker fighting over you, but then do a choose your own ending and have one part where you choose Arvin and another where you chose Peter. I dunno, off the top idea ig.
One Or The Other w/Arvin Russel and Peter Parker
｡Warnings: Sexual references, language, angst, fluff
｡Masterlist
｡A/n: AHHHHHH I LOVE THIS IDEA, MARRY ME ANON. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and please feel free to send in more ideas.
You loved your boys more than anything
They were your best friends, but often when you hung out with one, it was usually without the other.
Mainly because they hated each other. But they also respected your friendship with the opposite counterpart.
With Arvin, you felt protected, and he would make fun of you sometimes, but it was all in good fun. You two enjoyed more outdoorsy-type activities, (hiking, camping under the stars, car rides in the foothills, etc.), and Arvin was always very, very protective of you, almost like a brother, but it killed him how much he wanted to be more.
But with Peter on the other hand, you two tended to stay more indoors.
You knew Peter’s superhero alter ego, and you always brought yourself to worry about him, but it never changed the way you saw him, since you knew him before the bite.
You two will usually stay inside at his place, watching movies or playing video games. From time to time, he’ll even take you out to eat a couple times.
Just as you had different times that you spent with the boys, you also found that they each had a moment that really stuck out for you, emotionally and physically.
For Arvin, it was when you both were laying down in the bed of his truck, staring up at the night sky decorated with bright shining stars and a full moon.
But Arvin wasn’t looking at the stars. He watched you in awe, a cigarette hanging from his lips, your eyes blinking up at the stars like it was the last thing you would see. Subconsciously, as if his hand wasn’t his own, he reached down and grabbed your hand, making you turn your head towards him, a smile spreading on your face
“What are you lookin’ at?” you would laugh, and he would simply answer “The most beautiful girl in the world,” before taking another puff of his cigarette.
With Peter, it was quite similar. Instead of stars, it was a movie. One of your favorites, and yet you were watching it like it was your first time all over again; a blissful moment for the both of you.
But this time, when you looked over, he looked away quickly, but not without a light dust of pink covering his cheeks.
A few seconds later, he pulled himself closer to you on the couch, and you instinctively sunk into his touch, leaning your body against his as you smiled in content, hearing Peter’s heart beat out of his chest.
You were thinking of those moments now, staring at the two of them. You felt as if you were put in a stupid romance movie, a cruel joke to whatever was up there watching.
They were both at your apartment door. Arvin held in his hand a single white rose, while Peter carried a small bundle to daisies. They were both planning on telling you how they truly felt. But it just had to be at the same time.
Being the hard-headed boys they were, they automatically went into arguing, going at each other and trying to make a case on how they were a much better match than the other.
You knew there was no way out of this. You knew you would have to choose.
.
M A K E Y O U R C H O I C E
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ You Choose Peter ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
Peter had planned this inside and out. He made sure of it, hell, he even already had a paid pizza coming for the both of you.
Arvin keeps his disappointment hidden and gives a solemn nod of his head before making his leave, knowing that he couldn’t stay mad at you forever.
Peter swore he had never smiled so big when he handed you your flowers. He then automatically pulls you in for a kiss, making it playful, honest, and loving as you wrapped your arms around his neck and held each other close.
You spent the rest of the night eating pizza and watching your favorite movies, and you couldn’t wait for what the future held.
What Does This Say About You?
You’re a very loving and soft person. You enjoy the comfortable things in life, and most likely have an inclination to reading or writing, and if not that, then art. You love with your whole heart, and want someone you can feel totally and completely vulnerable with. You love caring for others, especially your loved ones. You’re a homebody who loves staying inside and spending your time doing quieter, more mundane activities, but you’re never hesitant to get out of the house if you wanted to. You prefer to surround yourself you feel the most comfortable, and touch might be your main love language, (Peter gives the best hugs),
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ You Choose Arvin˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
Peter steps back and gives you a sad look of acknowledgement and understanding before making his way back down the hallway.
Arvin takes you hand in his, the flower in his other, before looking at you with sincerity, before leaning in and kissing you with everything he has in you.
He is exstatic that you chose him, not only because he loved you but also what you gave up to have him. He knew your relationship with Peter would be effected, but despite all of that, you chose him.
His kiss was soft, passionate, and tasted like cigarettes and Redbull, but nonetheless, it felt so euphoric to finally be in each other’s arms, touching the other like you had been wanting too since as long as you could remember.
.
What does this say about you?
You’re a strong and driven person, who knows what they want and just how to get it. You’re willing to die for the ones you love and are highly ambitious. You leave good vibes where ever you’ve been, which was what drove Arvin crazy for you in the first place. You are driven, but you need a strong and loyal rock to keep your feet on the ground. Arvin is a perfect match!! You love outdoor activities and getting out into the world. When you’re ready to go, you’re ready to go, and love a good adventure. Roadtrips and traveling the world might be at the top of your bucket list. You find yourself driven to the more traditional side of things, but you add your own twist, making it the perfect foundation for both yours and Arvin’s relationship.
Hi! I loved the stuff on your other account, and I wanted to see if you could write something with Tom being needy, but when you snap at him, he becomes all big, macho, and dominant?? Thanks!
Needy
➵Warnings: Smut, needy tom, suggestive content, dub-con but not really, degrading
➵Masterlist
➵a/n: I loved this, you want me dead, b?? I love you tho and thank you for the request 🥺
“Tom, stop,” you mumbled, trying your hardest to pay attention to the script in front of you.
But Tom planned on doing the opposite, his lips still on your neck, sucking small pink and red marks on your skin, his fingers drifting up and down your inner thighs, too close to where you needed him most.
“Come on, darling, lighten up a little bit. You’ve been staring at that script for hours, I think you need a break from it,” he argued, turning your head with his finger under your chin, leaning in to have your lips on his.
“Yeah, because it’s my job,” you argued, “How I make money. You can’t always be the breadwinner,” you shifted away from him.
“I’ll make it worth your while,” he smirked devilishly, leaning over to your ear, whispering, “I can make you cum so hard you cry, darling, it would be all about you,”
He takes one of your hands, placing it right on his painfully hard bulge, “See what you do to me? Feel what you do to me?” he muttered.
The shifting of your thighs didn’t go unnoticed by him as you swallowed hard. You wanted nothing more than to have him dip down between you legs and lick you until you passed out. But you really needed to finish this script before you started work tomorrow.
“Tommy, I can’t. I really have to finish this,” you said as politely as you could muster, knowing that you had been needy at times like this.
The eldest Holland brother scoffed at your dedication, even if he would do the same thing in your situation, seeing as you two had the same job.
“Just take a break,” he protested your argument, “the script will be there when you get back, darling,”
Now you were getting annoyed, Tom’s antics becoming a distraction rather than motive. You knew he wasn’t going to stop.
“Thomas. Stanley. Holland.” You finally gritted, his eyes growing wide at someone using his full official birth name besides his mother, “I said no,”
“Right,” he scoffed in disbelief, getting up and heading towards the bedroom before slamming the door behind him, not bothering to look back your way.
Something about the way he slammed that door told you that there was no more playful tone, and once you were done, you were going to be in for it.
You finished the script around an hour later, but stayed out there longer than necessary because you really, really didn’t want to see what Tom was cooking up in his devious little brain about a tit for a tat.
Finally, you mustered up the courage to get up off the couch and set your script on the kitchen counter before finally slipping down the hall to the last door, hesitantly twisting the knob.
The first thing she was greeted with was Tom’s back to the doorway, most likely either pretending to be asleep or actually asleep.
You slipped into bed and under the covers, a warm lamp lighting the room as you scooted as close behind him as possible, wrapping your arms around him as you leaned in and kissed his neck gently.
If he wasn’t awake before, he definitely was now.
And yet he resumed in a dormant state, pretending you weren’t even there as he continued to stay in the same position.
“Tommy,” you silently whined, your fingers tracing his bare chest, trying to coax him to give in just like he did you.
“Tommy?” He scoffed, “I thought I was Thomas.”
You closed your eyes and let out a breath of regret, poking your head over him as you kissed under his earlobe, knowing it was his sweet spot.
“Come on, darling,” you teased, mocking his British accent.
Before you could think, Tom was grabbing you by the throat and hovering over you, a lustful sadistic look in his eyes as he searched your wide ones.
“I have half a mind to tie you to the bed and edge you all night, then leaving you there while I sleep on the couch,” he growled lowly.
You whimpered, knowing that was the last thing you wanted, and he knew it too.
“Or maybe I could just use you as a little plaything to get myself off and not touch you for the next week.”
“All this over me snapping back?” You challenged.
“You’re lucky I’m feeling merciful, princess, after all, it is your first time truly pissed me off, huh?” His grip tightened slightly, making you squeak.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to fuck you until I cum. And if you cum as well, so be it, but it won’t be my problem. Understood?”
Your face sported a look of annoyance, but in all reality, you felt like this is what you needed. To be put back in place. To be dominated.
“Understood?” he gritted when he recieved no answer, snapping you back into reality from your diviating thoughts.
“Mhm,” you nodded, biting your lip to keep from letting loose a smile that would surely get you in deeper shit.
Without another word, Tom released your throat, letting his hand drift down your body, and you shivered right as he got to your v-line, his soft, intentional touches driving you insane. And needy.
Soon enough, his fingers found your clothed clit, drinking in the reaction you were giving him, your eyes on his.
Even though he was insistent on only pleasuring himself, you knew that he just loved make you cum just a little too much, making his promise futile.
His mouth was propped open, small pants tumbling from his lips as he took control, shifting your panties to the side and inserting a finger, curling it, not giving you any time to adjust before he was thrusting at a fair pace.
You whimpered and whined, writhing under him as he did his best to stay concentrated on pleasuring you. Put your sounds were so heavenly.... so distracting.
His pace quickened as he soaked in your musings, your arms going around his shoulders, hands going to the back of his head, pulling him in and locking your lips with his as your moans were now muffled with his mouth.
Suddenly, he pulled back, panting, “See? This is all I wanted, darling. Now cum,” you nodded as he did the same, “cum all over my fingers, slut.”
Like a dog on command, your core tightened around him as you threw your head back, letting out long, breathless sounds of pleasure as he helped you ride it out, now grinding his painful hard-on onto the skin of your thigh.
He abruptly yanked out his fingers, then stripping you forcefully as he threw you around like a rag doll, and once you were perfectly bare for him, he stood back to admire his favorite girl.
“Stunning,” he sighed out, before stripping himself, now going to hover over the top of you, his patience for release thinning.
He lined himself up with you, your eyes meeting his, a wordless confirmation that this is what you truly wanted.
It was a stretch, it always was, but it felt amazing to have him inside you, slippin in centimeter by centimeter, making you feel every ridge and vein. His want and his need for nobody but you.
You were breathless as he started to move, sliding in and out as he stretched you, his heavy breaths making you squirm on his cock. His eyes were locked with yours, his chocolate brown eyes staring into yours, a disagreement leading to such a romantic, passionate moment.
He began to go quicker, adding to the pressure in your core, leaning down and kissing your neck, whispering soft nothings into your skin as he continued to move.
“Just like that,”
“So good for me, my perfect girl.”
“Fuck, clench around me like that again, darling,”
“I love you. I love you so fucking much,”
The outpour of affection made you weaker and weaker as you slipped into another headspace, whimpers and moans the only noise you could make as his paced quickened and hardened.
“Fuck, I’m close, darling, are you close?” he panted, and you nodded, letting out a small ‘mhm’.
You clenched hard around him, both of you plummeting over the edge. Both of you let out a symphony of moans and gasps as you both slipped into a state of euphoria, the both of you grasping at each other as you did.
The both of you struggled to catch your breath, Tom pulling back and looking at your closed ones, smiling to himself, knowing that he made you feel as good as he did.
Having a poly relationship with Machine Gun Kelly and Megan Fox?
Poly w/ The Hotties
○Warnings: Smut, language, drug use, suggestive content.
○Masterlist
○A/n: I haven’t written for this king for a FAT min. (You’re short in this btw.)
I’m sorry, but the relationship would revolve around Kells.
His emotions are on hypersensitivity 24/7 so it’s usually up to you and Megan to calm him down. (Literally nobody else can do it but you two)
You and Megan are honestly a dream team.
You will still insist on working a job, even though Colson and Megan’s money combined is enough to fund a small country.
Backstage V.I.P. passes for every single performance of Colson’s if you want them.
You smoke with Kells.
He better give you damn good head if he wants you to do acid with him cause with the acid, he gets is heavy shit.
Megan doesn’t approve of the substance use habits the two of you have developed, but there hasn’t been a bad incident yet, so that was enough for her.
Megan is the ultimate top. It’s kinda like a spectrum. Megan is the most dominant, you’re the most submissive. Colson resides somewhere in that grey area.
You and Kells are like the Terror Twins. You do everything together, legal and illegal. You like reeking havoc on all of L.A.
You and Casie are deadass best friends.
You’re like the big sister she never had and she loves you for it. You’re always out together, spoiling each other with money that isn’t yours :)
Megan makes it a point to join the two of you when she can, but she’s normally pretty busy.
Same with Colson.
But when Colson does get his hands on his two favorite girls, (Megan is his favorite woman, that’s his logic, don’t question it, it’ll make your head hurt), he’ll cuddle both you and Casie while watching movies and it just makes your heart go BOOM.
Your height makes you shorter than both your lovers, so automatically, you are baby. I don’t make the rules.
Sometimes you’ll even wake up to Colson wrapped around you as if you were a teddy bear. Unfortunately for you, he is super needy in the mornings.
“Colson I have to pee.”
“Then hold it. Cause I don’t.”
You eventually wait it out until your squirming in discomfort and then slip away from his arms, but not without him whining like a child.
You three do a lot together, but sometimes Colson and Megan leave for work. Sometimes one of them, worst scenario is both.
You get lonely, so that’s why they don’t let you out of their sights when their home because they missed you and their other partner too.
Luxury vacations are always on the table with them.
Deadass, you’ve seen the world at least 3 times over because of Kells’ tours and just going places to get away.
Okay, okay, now for the ~s m u t~
You are bottom bitch obviously.
BUT THAT’S NOT A BAD THING.
You deadass have the time of your life with these two.
Don’t even get me STARTED on the head that both Megan AND Colson can give. Mf, those people with have your legs trembling.
We been knew Colson has a long schlong.
(and a tight ass-)
They both worship your body if you feel insecure. Will smother you with kisses if they hear you talking bad about yourself.
Megan of course will give Colson attention too cause he’s a little neEDY BITCH-
They treat you with all sorts of new positions.
Megan bought a Kama Sutra book when she was in New York City and y’all haven’t stopped using that book to save your life.
(The book)
Megan won’t admit it but she loves when she’s receiving head more than she does giving.
But the sex is ABSOLUTELY BOMB, lemme tell you-
Their stamina is insane, they can last like 3-4 rounds each.
Bitch, you can’t even breathe by the end of it. You need help standing, that should say enough.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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(weird request incoming) can you do something with Sebastian Stan's characters Chase Collins from the Covenant and Bucky along with Seb himself on being jealous? Sorry, hope this makes sense.
Envious
⭑Warnings: language, sexual references, stalking...?
⭑Masterlist
⭑A/n: Hope that this is what you meant! Sorry if it isn’t, I did my best.
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Chase Collins ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
He had won you a bear at the local carnival that was passing through. You loved it, and even named it Chase No. 2
The bear even got Chase’s spot on the bed, and that was when the stuffed animal was starting to get really old really fast.
Despises the fact that the stupid bear gets more attention then he does.
Thought about OBLITERATING it on multiple occasions.
One night he was sneaking into your room after a particularly exhausting day, all the warlock wanted to do for the rest of the evening was cuddle, but he finds you holding the bear like you would usually hold him when he was sleeping with you.
Bitch, you got to SEE how STRONG that bitch got.
One eerie eye color change and a wave of the hand later, the bear was across the room, Chase in the bear’s place, you looked up at him.
“You could have just asked me to move him...,”
“Nope.”
And with that, the two of you spend the rest of the night cuddling while you played with his hair, the jealous warlock shooting the stuffed animal dirty looks from across the room every now and again, making you laugh.
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Bucky Barnes ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
Seriously, seriously protective of you.
He hates to see you away from him, and his trust issues just get worse and worse every time he turns on the news and sees a new woman has gone missing or another person was shot on the street.
You can’t go out anywhere without him following you, whether you know he’s there or not. Normally you walk down the street hand in hand, but the days you wanna be “independent”, he isn’t far behind, and won’t go home until he knows you’re in your apartment.
One specific morning, you just got done with your daily run and decided to stop by a coffee shop, unfortunately getting bothered by a creepy guy who just couldn’t take a hint.
“Come on, baby, just come sit down with me, you seem real sweet,”
The fucker had his hand on your arm.
With that, Bucky broke his facade from the corner of the coffee shop, getting up and grabbing the asshole’s hand and gripping tightly.
He let out a harsh “leave.” before throwing him to the side, the man scrambling to the door and leaving without another glance towards you two.
“I had it,” you would grumble, taking the coffee with your name written on it off the counter before taking a sip.
“Maybe next time, doll.” he said, trying to simmer himself down so he didn’t track the poor dude down and shoot him in the back of the head.
The funny part was that the barista got your order wrong.
But you didn’t say anything, in case Bucky were to reach across the counter and strangle him.
“Let’s just go home.” you suggested, and he knew that you meant the compound.
“Yeah. Home.”
He liked the sound of that.
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Sebastian Stan ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
Sebastian isn’t usually the type to get jealous, he trusts you.
But it makes him uneasy when you go and work out together, and a bunch of other people are staring at forbidden places.
He’ll just casually choose a piece of equipment to work out on so he can be closer to you.
Sadly, you like the elliptical, and the treadmill is right next to it.
You got this poor baby boy running the whole time.
Refuses to have you do stretches at the gym because the men’s eyes PRY.
You guys usually change together in the ‘family bathrooms’ they have that the recreational center you guys go to.
Desperate make-out sessions in the bathroom cause this baby needs reassurance :)
When you two are out walking around, he’ll have an arm around your waist when he senses you’re uncomfortable with the paparazzi cause those bitches are scary.
You have a habit of talking about his attractive co-stars.
*COUGH* Chris Evans *COUGH*
Now whenever Chris comes on screen, Seb will hold you just a little bit harder.
Women in his past normally dated him because he had connections to people like Chris Pratt and Chris Evans and all the other hot Chris’.
So he’s been anxious about that kind of stuff with you despite of himself.
Therefore you take him to the bedroom to show him that you’re with him for him, and not who he knows. ;)
Alpha!Chris Evans during heat? I'm going on my period and I need some a/b/o rn.
In Heat
Warnings: SMUT, a/b/o dynamic, talks of claiming, language
Masterlist
A/n: No comment.
Chris is obviously going to make it a point to know exactly when your heats will hit.
Seriously, he has it marked on a calendar in red sharpie
He brought you a heating pad for your pre-heat because he doesn’t want you to be in anymore pain than you have to be
But the moment you beg for him, it’s like a switch flips and he disregards literally everything else, just to knot you.
Always asks before entering your nest because he’s a good fucking alpha and knows how to respect something like that.
Your nest is the most comfortable thing in the world, and Chris is always picking up small things here and there to add, (after he scents them, of course)
To him, your scent is 10x more heavenly than it usually is (mainly because it’s 10x more potent) and will sometimes steal a pillow from your nest if he goes away for filming.
Will literally cum to just the scent of your pillow when he’s away from you, because it’s the closest thing he can get to you.
Will take care of you while you’re in the haze of your heat, normally you’re too weak to eat and take care of yourself, so he does it fore you. He’ll bathe you, feed you, give you water, you name it.
Aftercare king, honestly.
He’ll just hold you and purr, making you jelly in his arms as he plays with your hair.
Will stay right by your side until your heat is over.
Okay so now here comes the smut.
He’ll fuck you like a maniac.
Super possessive and controlling, it’s almost scary.
Won’t tolerate questioning. Because then he’ll just fuck you harder.
Will scent you while he’s pounding you, and occasionally lick your claim mark.
The first time he bit you was a moment you two will cherish for the rest of your life TBH.
He was so deep inside you, touching parts you didn’t even know you had inside you, and when his eyes met yours, he let out a dominant growl before leaning down and leaving a long lick to your neck before biting down. Hard.
And you came. Hard.
Chris would never hurt you, but he is rough, which is why he swears to be a good alpha and take care of you.
I have this movie and this scene is so friggin hot especially when he is moaning @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @jtargaryen18 @jamielea81 @nickysurfer28 @lovinevans @ohmy-captain @mizcaptainphoenix @patzammit @deidrashouseofpain @thatgirly81 @mdemontespan1667
✝ Summary: After being caught committing lustful acts, y/n is brought to the bishop for reconcile.
✝ A/n: Reader just turned 18, this is sinful, if you are offended, please don’t read. With that being said, after reading this, you best chug a gallon of holy water.
𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖓𝖊𝖊𝖉 𝖆 𝖇𝖎𝖌 𝖌𝖔𝖉
𝕭𝖎𝖌 𝖊𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖙𝖔 𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖚𝖕
Florence + the Machine, Big God
“No! Let me go!” the girl with a small voice ordered futily, the sound echoing off the large corridors as the nuns pulling her along payed no mind.
She fought against them, but it was useless, for it would only make their conviction worse. She had sinned, and like everything, sinning came with a grave price. Especially at the young woman’s academy.
She knew the bishop would be cross. Not only for her sin but for the timing. It was in the late hours of the night, but there she was, caught red-handed and in nothing but a snow-white bra and panty set, being dragged through the empty halls of the institution, everyone else sleeping.
Soon enough, she was faced with the large wooden double-doors of the bishop’s office, the lion knocker on the door seeming to snarl smugly at the girl as if it knew her fate.
One of the nun’s calloused old fingers wrapped around the handle clutched in the metal feline’s mouth, before knocking three times, the young girl counting absentmindedly.
A harsh and inharmonious voice called out an ill-toned ‘Come in’. The girl could have sworn she was on the verge of a panic attack. What she had done was wrong, but why did it feel so good?
The door was opened by one of her captors, walking her in before throwing her to the ground, her knees scraping up against the stone floors as she let out a pained yelp. She refused to look up, knowing that his eyes would be trained on her.
“Archbishop Rogers,” one of the nun’s began, “We caught this young lady committing an act of lust, and demand her to repent and save her faith plagued with desire.”
The man stood up from his working desk, setting his pen down, stepping in front of the trembling girl, almost anticipating her to look up at him.
“Leave us, sisters,”
His voice sent a tight shock through her spine, making her scramble to her knees, her ass resting on her heels, folding her hands in front of her, waiting as if she were about to be struck.
As soon as the great wooden doors closed, the bishop took a deep breath and began to speak.
“Tell me,” he starts, “what is your vice?”
She quivered at the question, embarrassed to admit what she had truly did wrong. But in knowing that the longer it took to get it out of her, the more torturous the punishment would be.
“I-” she cleared her throat, “I h-have committed a lustful act,” she swallowed hard as she heard the man above her sigh, beckoning her to continue, “I feel as if I’ve been consumed by demons. The devil has put thoughts into my head... scandalous thoughts... and it creates such a tension between my legs,” she took in a shaky breath, “I can’t help but touch myself to relieve the pain.”
His jaw clenched at her confession, crossing his arms.
“Do you understand the gravity of your actions?” he catechized her, making her nod her head ‘yes’.
“Yes, Archbishop Rogers, I do.” she now had the courage to look up at the man above her, “I am willing to do whatever it takes to be right by the Lord’s name,”
His crossed arms unraveled, one of his hands going down to cradle the girl’s cheek as she leaned into his touch like an obedient dog, desperate for the relief and to bear no malice to her God.
When she looked up at him with her doe-like eyes, full of hope, there was a glint of guilt.
“First, recite ‘Hail Mary’,” he commanded, her head now hanging low again, not noticing that his hands were now reaching his pants, the leather of his belt coming undone.
“Hail Mary, full of grace,” she began, “The lord is with thee-”
Her face was suddenly jerked up, his hand wrapping around her head before pushing her forward, her open mouth suddenly filled with the mass of his cock, only half of her mouth consuming it.
Her tongue squirmed as she tried to pull away, but the archbishop’s strength was unparalleled to hers, her struggles futile. Her hands went to his thighs to anchor herself.
“A demon had infiltrated your mind, my child,” he grunted, “I know how to rid you of this evil, but you must do as I say.”
She did the best she could to nod her head, before getting pulled back by her hair.
“Did I tell you to stop reciting?” he growled, “Don’t make me start you over,”
“Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit-” she was pulled forward violently back on his cock, deeper his time, his tip touching the back of her throat as she gagged, tears welling up in her eyes, doing her best not to bite down.
She was pulled back once again, “of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary-”
Tears were now spilling down her face like a river, her face flushed as his cock seemingly went down her throat, the groans of her superior above her making her whimper.
“Mother of God, pray for us sinners now,”
He didn’t pull her in this time like she was expecting, “and at the hour of our death.” she finished, panting as she winced at the archbishop’s killer grip on her hair, “Amen.”
“Remarkable job,” he praised, before standing her up, taking her hand and leading her to his desk, before harshly pushing her down against it, smirking at her gasping reaction.
“P-Please? Haven’t we done enough?” she questioned, pleaded, earning her a slap on her ass, getting pulled up chest to back with him as his lips reached her ear.
“I am a vessel of God,” he hissed, “And he lives through me as I do him. I’m cleansing you...,”
His fingers made their way under the hem of her underwear, pulling them down, her dripping cunt coming into view, the archbishop squatting down after pushing her back on the desk. She whimpered at the feeling of his breath against her sex, Rogers letting out a dark chuckle before leaning forward, licking a torturous strip across her slit.
“God, you taste so good,” he groaned against her pussy, “why the fuck do you taste so good?” his rhetorical question made her clench.
She let out a soft moan at the sexual touch that was for once, not her own. He did this several more times before he stood straight back up again.
She whined when she felt his wide tip tease her entrance, circling his cock, the anticipation almost painful, his breathing echoing off the expanse of his large office. The moonlight shown through the stained glass windows, reflecting on the expanse of her back, making the archbishop all the more attracted to her seemingly supernatural glow.
“Plea-” she was cut off by a loud moan ripping its way through her throat, the feeling of being stretched out so far painful.
“Fuck! Fuck, you’re so tight-” he cursed into the open air, his hands latching onto her hips when he bottomed out.
He didn’t grace her with the opportunity to adjust, before he started to move, slowly, making her feel every ridge and vein.
“You better start praying,” he coaxed, her head nodding.
“O-Our father, who art in h-heaven, gl-glory be thy name,” she whined out, making the man behind her rut his hips harder and harder with each verse, “hallowed be th-thy name. Thy kingdom c-come,” she paused to catch her breath, earning her a harsh tug on her scalp.
“Didn’t tell you to stop,” he growled, bushing harder and faster inside her.
“thy will be done, on earth, as it is in h-heaven, g-give us this day our da-ily bread and... and...,” her brain was fogged with pleasure as he was getting pounded into, Rogers annoyed at her reluctance.
“Don’t tell me you forgot,” he degraded, “don’t make me start you over,” his pace slowing down.
She whined before starting again, “forgive us our tr-trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against u-us-”
She clenched around him, making him let out a genuine moan, and it was the most angelic sound she had ever heard, a coil tightening inside her as she cursed silently.
“Come on, princess, we can finish it together,” he offered.
“P-Please,” she gasped, gagging on air as she did her best to keep a level head and know what she was supposed to say next.
“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.” they said in perfect sync.
“Come on, so close, just-” before he could finish, he released inside of her with a yell, his head thrown back in ecstasy.
The warm feeling in her gut made the coil inside her snap as well as she fell off the deep end, long and passionate moans leaving her lips as she trembled and tensed from such an earth-shattering orgasm.
The archbishop walked in front of the lit fireplace, poking at it with a fire poker before setting it down, the pointy end positioned over the fire.
The girl thought nothing of it as she sat in an armchair, covered in nothing but a blanket as she gave a dopey smile to the nude man approaching her. He picked her up, before sitting himself down, placing her in his lap.
Her head rested against his chest as he gently played with her hair.
“Am I cleansed?” she questioned, nudging herself closer into him.
After a small amount of time, he gave a quick, lack-luster response.
“Yes.”
“What happens if the demons come back? If my thoughts turn sinful again?” she whimpered at the thought.
“Well, I have a way I can make sure they don’t.” he smirked to himself, “Stand up, will you?”
She did as she was told; his perfect little obedient pet. Before she could question anything, she was grabbed by the wrists and slammed up above her head, her back against the wall next to the fire place, Steve reaching over and grabbing the bow heated fire poker.
It clicked for her as her eyes widened.
“W-Wait!” she squeaked, looking at the red-hot end of the fire poker, his fingers wrapped around it tightly.
When the scalding metal touched the skin of her breast, she let out a pained cry, a sickening sizzle ringing through her ears as she sobbed. The burning touch seemed to last for ages, before it was finally brought away, but the pain never ceased.
The shape made her stomach turn, the man pulling the girl in an embrace as she sobbed, shushing her.
There, over her right breast, was the mark of the lord. A blistering cross, that would be an eternal reminder of their shared moment together.
“In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit,” Steve spoke, right before her world went black from shock.
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➵Warnings: MAJOR MAJOR ANGST, character “death”, fluff, sexual references.
➵Masterlist
➵Summary: You and Bucky go on a mission together to hopefully put a dent in H.Y.D.R.A., but things don’t go as planned.
➵a/n: I cried MULTIPLE times while writing this, but I think I’ve been working on too much fluff lately, and I was in need of a heartbreak. I don’t really like my writing as much as I thought I would. :(
“This mission doesn’t sit right with me,” you spoke, you and your lover facing each other as you laid in your shared bed, your hand gently tracing his cheek bones as he subconsciously leaned into your touch.
“If Steve says it’s what he thinks it is, I wanna pitch in. You should too, you and Natasha are the best women we have. H.Y.D.R.A. isn’t one to stop unless their killed. And if this helps then...,” he shrugged, his hand drifting up and down your side, your legs intertwined.
“It’s just... been a while for the both of us, you know? I mean, yeah, we’ve had a nice and long break with very small disturbances. I guess I’m just not ready to get back to work, you know?” you watched a smirk tug at his lips, the pale moonlight being the only thing lighting up the room, the silver glow making his eyes look more beautiful than ever.
He took notice of your obvious anxiety, and he could see why, you didn’t want him to get hurt. Because the last mission that you two went on together, you broke your leg and Bucky got a mild concussion. And you didn’t want to see how much worse it could get.
You eyes traced his chest, to nervous, almost too embarrassed to look him in the eyes anymore. Because in reality, you almost had as many dead bodies under your belt as him. You were a stone-cold killer right before S.H.E.I.L.D. found you and took an acute interest to your skill.
And once you met Bucky, it was all uphill from there. But you still had carnage and guilt on your shoulders. So for a while, you and James decided to but the weapons and the suits away, only bringing them out when your friends truly needed you help.
Now Steve had a mission for the two of you, and you knew that as soon as H.Y.D.R.A. was mentioned, Bucky would be in. He would jump at any chance to go and fight the organization who used, brainwashed, and weaponized him.
“Hey,” he mumbled gently, taking your face softly in his hands, while yours fiddled with the bottom of his your red sweater, “you know I have your back, and I know you have mine. We’ll be okay. Promise.”
You situated yourself, Bucky pulling you in, wrapping both arms around you, circling you in a warm embrace as you tried taking deep breaths to steady your anxiety.
“I just don’t want your nightmares to start up again, you know?” you finally spoke after a few seconds of silence, “I worried for you.”
“Don’t worry about me,” he smirked at your compassion, “just sleep, alright? I know there isn’t anything we can’t do together.”
“I love you, Jamie,” you muttered, nuzzling yourself more into his bare chest.
“I love you more, doll,” he gave you a soft squeeze, “Goodnight m’love.”
You set off early in the morning, and the ride there was silent as you drove to the HQ in upstate New York, Bucky looking at the file Steve provided, soft classical music playing in the background on the radio.
You stole a few glances his way, and he did the same.
“What are you lookin at?” you chided, smirking, your eyes now looking to the road ahead of them.
Bucky could have said a lot of corny things in that moment, but rather, his lips released a simple answer that would have insinuate a multitude of things.
“You.”
Letting out a laugh, he took your free hand and smoothed his thumb over it, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your cheek.
As the building came into sight, you turned down the radio, pulling around to the landing pad, the car now coming to a complete stop as the two of you got out, Steve and Sam already waiting outside quinjet, the sound of the propellers all you heard as the two of you walked closer.
“Bout time!” Sam teased over the deafening sound of the jet.
“Got our suits?” you yelled, Steve giving a nod before he moved aside, letting you step inside the jet as he kept Bucky back to talk.
As soon as you were all suited up, you walked back out, surprised to find that the two life-long friends were still talking.
“Wanna suit up, love?” you called out to Bucky, his attention shifting away from Steve and onto you.
He smirked, always loving the way you looked in your black leather ensemble.
“Yeah. Course.” he said, Steve letting him slip away.
The helicopter ride there was almost silent as the air was quiet, Wanda and Nat talking amongst themselves, Steve going over his strategy, Sam playing a game on his phone.
You held Buck’s metal arm, you felt that the action was saying more than anything you could say in the moment.
You were so close. So close. The mission was rough, the 5 of you taking down H.Y.D.R.A. soldier after the other, almost getting to the room where you needed to be most to get a flash drive. The flash drive was your only hope for doing significant damage, maybe even stopping them for good.
You and Bucky raced to the control room, watching as someone jumped out a window, with a parachute no doubt, and that was when the two of you noticed it.
A time bomb, in the middle of the floor, ticking down rapidly. And Bucky had that look. A look that told you this wasn’t going to end well.
But then he started stalking towards it.
“Jamie, what are you doing?!” you asked urgently, fear striking through you.
Bucky looked at the timer ticking down on the explosive, 60 seconds left on the clock. He gave you an unreadable look, before looking back at the thing that could take out the entire building and more.
Before you could utter another word, he grabbed you and kissed you, Steve and Nat just then catching up, Bucky running towards the bomb.
“Buck?” Steve questioned, his best friend giving no response, he and Nat paused in the doorway.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered out, leaning down to pick the weapon up, before looking at the broken glass window, before standing right at the edge, looking back at the people he loved the most.
“JAMIE, NO!” you cried out, watching as he had the bomb in his hands, giving you one last sorrowful look filled with tears before leaping though an open glass window as you screamed in agony.
You raced to do the same, the need to save him over writing all rhyme and reason, but before you could step foot off the abyss in which your love was plummeted in, an arm wrapped around you, pulling you back.
“NO! LET ME GO!” you yelled out in anger, not caring who the person holding you back was. But their grasp was unrelenting as you tried to get away, screaming and yelling obscenities.
But Steve knew you didn’t mean any of the things you saying, because he was hurting just as bad, and it took everything for him to not try and follow him as well, but your safety was at the forefront of his mind, not wanting you to slip from his grasp.
An explosion below the group rumbled the building, shaking everyone, a glimpse of fire visible from the edge of the window.
“BUCKY!!” you screamed out, sobbing, feeling as if you couldn’t breathe, all your memories of him flashing through your mind like a flip-book.
The time you first met, your first kiss, numerous dates, and the first time you made love to each other, vowing that one would never let go of the other.
You turned to your captor, shrinking into a ball, as Steve held tightly onto you, your sobs and cries echoing through the area that was shattered and broken.
Steve shushed you, your face buried in his neck as he stroked your hair with one of his hands, trying to keep you sated, but nothing could numb the pain you were feeling. As if a piece of your heart had been torn out of your chest.
“Please, please, please,” was all you could say, coming out like a prayer, a red hot fire burning inside of you.
➵summary: Peter just wants to know why you hate him.
➵a/n: Hee hee, I’m still trying to break in my new blog so feel free to send in requests and follow or reblog :) ((THIS IS A STARK!READER FIC))
You never really liked Peter Parker.
But you didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. Everyone on the Avengers team tolerated him, and some even liked him. And he was talented at what he did. But you still couldn’t bring yourself to like him.
After the events of Thanos, you were finally brought back, and so was Peter. And Tony was happier than ever to get you home, and in his arms again. You went in and kicked ass. And the good guys won.
But at the cost of your father’s life.
Now that he was gone, everyone is asking who the next Ironman would be. You would think people would have been gunning on you, his own daughter, but instead, everybody looked to the boy no older than yourself.
And jealousy raged through you, feeling put off to the side, along with trying to grieve and mourn your fathers death, all while trying to keep the world at peace. And with the Captain in retirement, along with Natasha gone, that left the team struggling to stay together. Some of the strongest members were gone, and Thor was still trying to lose that weight.
So it all fell down to you. And sadly, also Peter. You were struggling to finish your studies in high school, as was Peter, the both of you attending the same school. While Peter had all sorts of friends, you preferred to be alone, and get through school, so you could take on more missions and important callings.
Just like today. But today was going to be slightly different.
“Come on, y/n, it’s just one party! It won’t kill you,” he protested as you walked into the common area of the Avengers headquarters.
“Yes it will,” you grunted, plopping down on the couch and telling F.R.I.D.A.Y. to turn the TV on.”
“No- F.R.I.D.A.Y., turn the TV off- It’s a big party and I know you’ll have fun! Flash is throwing it but I know you can still enjoy it,”
That made you not want to go even more. Flash was arrogant, snooty, and always took your detesting glares as playing hard to get. All you knew is that he didn’t like the word ‘no’, which set up multiple red flags for you.
“No. I said no.” you huffed, taking the remote this time and turning the TV back on, flipping through the channels was Peter let out a defeated sigh, sitting right next to you, pulling out his phone.
But secretly, Peter didn’t want to leave the living room. And even if he was on his phone, he just wanted to be near you.
◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆
“Come ooonnn, y/n, please??” Peter begged over the phone, pleading with you as he tried to get you to come to the stupid party that he was already at.
The loud music could be heard in the background, along with some masculine cheering, which you were sure was the captain of the football team.
“Peter, no, I’m already in bed,” lie “and I’m in the middle of a book. I’ll see you when you get back to the compound,” you tried to negotiate with a clip to your voice, and the truth was you were at the compound, sitting on the couch in a pair of fuzzy socks and you really didn’t wanna get up.
“Fine. Yeah. Fine, have fun at home, square.” he dramatically replied, obviously also not a fan of the word no.
You hated when he did that, when he tried to guilt trip you, because no matter how cheesy it was, he almost always succeeded in making you feel like shit.
“Good night, Peter,”
And with that, you hung up.
◆◆◆◆◆◆◆
You found yourself dozing off to the sound of the movie playing on the screen, the large blanket covering you making you never want to leave for the rest of your life.
But your blissful state was halted by the sound of your phone ringing, making your eyes shoot open and lazily grabbing your cellular device and mindlessly pressing the answer button without looking at the contact name before letting out a groggy “Hello?”
“Y/n!!! Heeeyyyyy,” Peter’s loopy voice sounded off, and if you weren’t full awake already, you certainly were now.
“Peter??” you scolded, “Are you...?”
“Having the time of my life?? Abbssolutelyyy!!”
“Shhhhh, just-” you pinched the bridge of your nose, trying not to panic, “Where are you?”
“At the party you were too scared to come to,” he chastised, making you let out a silent sigh in annoyance.
“Just stay there, okay, I’m coming,” you finally spoke, flipping the blanket off of yourself and getting up with get some real clothes on.
“I like it when you say you’re comi-”
And with that, you hung up the phone.
◆◆◆◆◆◆◆
If there was one thing that your father had good taste in, it was his automobiles. He had many he took pride in. Especially the red ones. And if anything, the memory of your father might keep you sane.
You punched in the address for Flash’s house, and even brought a pair of your father’s glasses, the only two E.D.I.T.Hs left. Ever.
The drive there was speedy, and when you pulled into the driveway, your stomach dropped. A flood of teenagers crowded the house, and that was just the outside. You couldn’t imagine trying to find Peter in that mess.
“E.D.I.T.H., find Peter for me, will you?” you spoke to your glasses.
“Of course,” the voice responded, pausing a moment before continuing, “He’s in the living room. His alcohol levels are high.”
You groaned. You should’ve known, you shouldn’t have let him go out on his own to a party with Flash, that prick has alcohol up the ying-yang thanks to daddy’s money, shit-
Standing up out of the car, you slam the door, glasses still on, “E.D.I.T.H., show me Parker’s vitals, please,” you continued to storm towards the front door and making your way in.
“His heartbeat is quick and his blood pressure is high, and as I said before, his alcohol levels are irrate.”
“Peter??” you called out, watching as his head popped up like a weasel’s, eyes bright as he recognized you.
“[y/n]!!” He gasped, running over to you before wrapping his arms around you, “You came! I knew you would!”
“Yeah,” you pulled him off of you, “I came to get you. You’re drunk, Parker, we’re going home.”
“Aww, come on,” he pushed before hanging on you.
“Peter. No. Come on, let’s go,” you pushed him off again, obviously more annoyed than before. You hated the way people were starting to look at you.
“[y/n]! Please, don’t push me away again! Just let loose and have fun,”
Your anger brewed. And this was supposed to be the next Ironman.
“Peter.” you scolded in the most dominant voice you could muster, making a few people around the two of you look their way, “We. Are going. Home.”
Without another word, you grabbed his hand and dragged him out, Peter protesting like a toddler, trying to pull back, but he was so drunk, he seemed weak, and unable to truly fight back.
You reached the car, opening the door for him as he sat down, folding his arms and glaring at you as you got into the car, starting it and pulling out of the driveway and back to Queens, where hopefully you could get Peter out of trouble.
A few good 3 minutes passed, (it felt longer thanks to Peter’s glare), and you finally spoke up.
“Are you done staring at me like a child?” you breathed like a disappointed parent. Which was worse, acting like a mother or a child?
“I’m waiting for an apology. When I sober up, the guyyss are never going to leave alone about what you did to be back there.” he grumbled, obviously going to hold his grudge.
“I don’t have to apologize for anything,” you gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, trying to suppress your thoughts that made you quick to anger.
“Like hell-”
“I wasn’t the one breaking the law and underage drinking,” you growled back.
“I can’t wait till I sober up so I can show you what for. That was mortifying. You’re embarrassing.”
Out of everything you’ve been called, embarrassing was never something you were dubbed.
Peter paused and held his breath, realizing he was blowing it with you, “Wait, [y/n], I’m sorry, I’m just-”
“It’s fine,” you dismissed, trying to keep tears from welling up in your eyes.
“No, it can’t be, because I read somewhere that if a woman says she’s fine, she’s really not actually fine, and-”
“Peter! Just shut up, please!!” you scolded, trying not to sob, just wanting this night to go away.
Soon after you hit a red light, and Peter just stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched, trying to think of something to say. Something to do. Anything at all to try and fix it. But thanks to the alcohol limiting the filter between his brain and his mouth, the next thing that came out of his mouth was:
“Why do you hate me?”
Your world seemed to stop for a second as you tried to compose yourself. This was the last thing you wanted him to think, no matter how vulnerable he made you feel.
“I don’t hate you, Peter...,”
“Then what is it? Why do you push me away? Can you see that I like you? Like really really like you?”
You swallowed hard at his words. You closed your eyes and swallowed, “Peter, I don’t know what to tell you-”
“Then tell me something, please, anything-”
“I love you, Peter-” your outburst made him wince as he tried to focus and piece together your words in his drunken state, “I love you, Peter. And whenever I look at you... I see him, and I just...,” you took a deep breath to prevent the tears welling in your eyes, making you seem weak in your opinion, “I’m supposed to be the next Ironman, but the press says differently. I’m jealous of you Peter,” you shook in embarrassment as you pressed down on the gas, your cloudy vision making you swerve to stay on the road so you didn’t crash a priceless car.
“You love me?”
“Y-yeah, I mean, I guess, I wouldn’t...,” you paused, “You aren’t going to remember this in the morning anyway,”
“No. I’m not gonna forget this. Not even if I tried,” he laughed humorlessly, leaning back in his seat.
“Well... I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” you thought out loud, wanting to take your rant and stuff it back down your throat.
You didn’t mean for him to find out. Not like this at least.
◆◆◆◆◆◆◆◆
When you two got back to the compound, he gipped onto you like a kid, clinging to you and refusing to let go. At this point there was a mutual understanding between the two of you. That both of you had feelings, but it wouldn’t be discussed until the morning.
The elevator ride made Peter look sick, the alcohol finally starting to catch up to him, and right as the doors opened, he ran inside, finding the closest bathroom.
That poor toilet.
You caught up to him and sat next to a sickly Peter, rubbing his back as he let everything out. He held you the best he could, not wanting you to leave his side.
You brushed the hair away from his forehead as he leaned over the side of the toilet, groaning in discomfort as he continued to cling to you like you would slip away. After a few more times of the repeated pattern of ejecting bile, he turned to you.
“I’m tired,” he mumbled like a child.
“Come on, Spidey, let’s get you to bed,” you gave a small smile, picking him up as you dragged him out of the bathroom and into a guest bedroom, getting him an extra shirt and sweatpants from the closet before turning around while he got changed.
But a wrapping of arms around your waist told you he was done. You waddled him over to the bedside before sitting him down and getting him off your back. He was like a damn koala.
You finally laid him down, pulling the covers over him snuggly, not failing to notice the longing stare coming from Peter. You gave a smile, and he smiled back. It made your heart flutter in spite of yourself.
You shook yourself out of it, the only thing on your mind now was getting to sleep, trying to forget the conversation that was supposed to be had the next morning.
“Goodnight, Peter.” you began to walk away, but before you could get too far away from the bed, you felt someone grab your hand.
“Please stay,” he begged, unspilled tears in his eyes, the fear of you leaving his side the greatest concern on his mind.
You paused. You were about to go to sleep with Peter Parker, and yet your hesitation was the only thing that was stopping you from what you had wished you had been doing for as long as you had known the boy.
Despite the voice screaming in the back of your head to put the wall back up and your foot down, say no, and leave, your body opposed, slipping under the covers with the sniffling teenager.
He immediately smiled and embraced you, and you knew that you would have to get used to the physical contact. He was behind you, his arms around your waist, his breath gently fanning over the nape of your neck.
You covered the both of you up, Peter sighing. And as much as you hated to admit it, he looked adorable.
“Parker, if you barf in my hair, you aren’t gonna wake up with eyebrows,” you were half-joking, half-serious.
“Will do.” he laughed sluggishly, sniffling before you finally felt his breaths steady and slow, passed out with you in his arms.
Can you do something with Timothée where you two are broken up and then he shows up at your door, apologizing because he can't let go of you?
Timothée Wants You Back
➵Warnings: angst, mentions of break up, fluffy
➵a/n: Hope you enjoy! To everyone else, feel free to send in requests!
"Timothée...?" I yawned as I looked through the peephole of my apartment door, opening reluctantly once I realized it was... him, "Tim, it's like 2 in the morning, what are you doing here?" I rubbed my eyes.
"Y/n, I just want to talk." I then took notice that he was crying, his face was red and his eyes puffy, eyelashes wet with tears.
"Tim...," I sighed, "There's nothing else to talk about. You broke my heart, and I dunno what else to say. I thought it was time to end things." I muttered, opening the door a little more.
As soon as I opened it enough, he wrapped me in a tight hug like I would disintegrate in his arms. I found myself hugging back gently.
"P-Please, don't g-go. I can't imagine my life without you," his voice was slightly muffled, as his mouth was on my shoulder. I rubbed his back gently as he began to sob.
God, what was I doing? Was I seriously going to end this? I loved Tim. Of course I loved Tim.
"I'm not going anywhere, Timmy." I hugged him tighter.
He pulled back and feverishly kissed my lips like he was giving a final goodbye. I pulled back, and guided him to the couch, sitting us both down as he enveloped me in another strong hug, tears still streaming down his cheeks.
He now took notice that I was wearing his Gorillaz shirt, which made him silently smile to himself, "You still have my shirt," He murmured.
"Yeah," I laughed through my own tears that began to form, "Yeah I did."
"I can't lose you, Y/n, I can't. I love you way too much to let you go like this. I should have spoken up earlier. I know you broke up with me like 2 weeks ago. I was supposed to go on a date tonight but I just couldn't. Once I sat across from another girl, I couldn't do it. It's you, it's always been you. I want to marry you, Y/n."
"Tim...,"
"I'm serious," He put his hands on each of my cheeks, making my eyes meet his, "I want to marry you Y/n. If I asked you... Would you say yes?"
I paused. Would I? Everything that spilled out of our mouths the night I ended it all haunted me, our problems dumped out on the table. Every pet peeve, every past argument, every angry thought. But in all honesty, I think it might have had to happen.
"Yes," I whispered, barely audible.
A smile spread across his face as he planted a passionate kiss on my lips, tears now spilling from both of our eyes, meeting as our cheeks touched in the comforting kiss.
"I love you. I love you more than anything in the entire world, and you need to know that, okay?" I sobbed, Timothée nodding profusely.
"Here, come lay with me," I took his hand, leading me to my bed, laying us both down as he kicked off his shoes.
I turned on the TV and we watch our favorite show to watch together, Saturday Night Live, watching his buddy Pete crack jokes as I snuggled deep into my boyfriend's chest, breathing him in, never wanting to ever let him go again.
➵a/n: I posted this originally on my Wattpad, so I scooted it over here, I hope you enjoy.
My dearest [ y / n ],
There are so many things I love about you, I honestly don't know where to start. I could talk about the soft mornings when I wake up before you and get those few minutes of silence, watching you and holding you close as sleep begins to fade from your eyes.
Or I can talk about when we went to the beach one time, and you tried feeding the seagulls because "they looked hungry", and they ended up getting mad and attacking the both of us. And we spent a good 30 minutes waiting in the hot, un-air conditioned car until they went away.
Or when we play Uno on Saturday nights at my apartment, and you always lost, and then you would make fun of me, and it almost always leads to you and me on the ground, rolling around and play fighting, (and I almost always win).
I love it when you visit me at work and bring me lunch along with extra water to make sure I'm staying hydrated.
I love it when you cook for me the morning after. I love when you make me tea and cuddle with me when I'm stressed out about work or up late reading a script.
I love how you'll always play with my hair when I kiss you, or how you'll hug me from behind and kiss right below my ear when you want my attention.
I love the way you rest your head on my shoulder when we sit together. I love it when you hold my hand while we're in the car.
I love it when you hold onto my arm when we take off on a plane because your afraid of heights and always make me take the window seat.
I love when you want to see my films, even the weird parts, and always cry at the really sad or really happy parts.
I love that you love my family, and that they love you too.
I love your kindness, like the time you told me I looked good in an outfit I was wearing for a premiere that I was scared to wear. And just when I was about to decide to wear something else, you changed my mind. The press ended up loving it.
I love how you'll invite me into your showers early in the morning to 'save water', but I know you just want to squeeze some "special time" early in the morning before I have to leave.
I love how you'll steal my shirts, and they fit you like dresses, and you'll wonder around the flat in nothing but underwear and my shirts.
I love it when you count my freckles whenever you find the time. I love when you respond to fans on Twitter and Instagram, because god knows I never stay active on either for long.
I love it when we take pictures together, and even though I say I hate taking pictures, I really love taking them with you.
I love it when we'll get in long debates over text over whether bagels are a breakfast food or not.
I love it when you'll just sit down and watch all my favorite shows with me, binging and cuddling for hours on a day off.
I love when you build pillowforts and have pillowfights with me like a child.
I love your eyes. I love your hair and the way it makes you look so...you.
I love when you make love to me in the late hours of the night, and say my name in a voice only I can hear. And I love how you hold me so close, we melt together.
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I was wondering if you could do a blurb with Draco Malfoy, where you see Pansy flirting with him, and so you take him into a broom closet to... you know.
Jealousy with Draco Malfoy
➵ a/n: This is my first Wizarding World fanfic since Wattpad, so forgive me, I’m a little rusty ( x hufflepuff reader )
➵Warnings: Smut-ish, swearing, Pansy hate crimes
You liked to think of yourself as a calm individual. You usually were, in most cases. But seeing Pansy Parkinson draping herself over an obviously uncomfortable Draco made your blood boil.
To any other young witch or wizard, it would just look like Pansy was up to her usual antics, her pursuit for the youthful Malfoy never letting up, even though it was you who he had ended up asking to the Yule Ball.
Usually in situations like this, you would repeat a simple mantra of ‘what would Helga Hufflepuff do?’
But now that was entirely thrown out the window as you took large and irritated strides towards the two teens, anger and determination flashing in your eyes. The robes spread out as wind caught a hold of them in the breezy chilly air of he courtyard.
Draco caught sight of you right away, having looking anywhere but Pansy the whole time she tried to conversate with him, and a look of almost amusement when he realized the tone of your aura.
Pansy was too caught up in her own little world, her hands shamelessly drifting over him, blabbing on about whatever else she was complimenting him on. Crabb and Goyle couldn’t look any less interested, sulking in their own little worlds as they waited for Pansy to release him from her grasp so they could slip into their next class.
“[l/n],” was all that Draco said right as you entered earshot, Pansy stopping everything she was doing, catching sight of you, still hanging on your date.
“Malfoy,” you started off cooly, your tone definitely not matching your rage, “I was just wondering if I could pull you away for a second to discuss something with the potions theme we were supposed to write.”
Pansy glared at you like an upset cat, and if she had a tail, it would be flicking back and forth in annoyance.
“Well, I would, but Parkinson was just telling me about uhm...,” he paused as he tried to remember what she was actually talking to him about.
Pansy cut in after almost 3 agonizing seconds of silence, “We were talking about the ball. It is quite the event, isn’t it?” she smirked your way before turning back to Draco, “Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind?” she whined, sticking out her bottom lip dramatically, and you wanted nothing more than to pull it down, bringing the rest of her down with it to the ground.
You couldn’t help the envious tears that welled up in your eyes.
That was when Draco stopped being so smug, his face turning to one almost of fury, his expression rock hard and cross, shrugging Pansy off of him as he stood, Goyle and Crabbe scrambling to their feet as to keep up with their leader’s sudden movements.
Draco strode towards you and you sniffled, fearing that he was going to scold you. But instead, he just grabbed your hand and walked away with you, leaving Pansy alone, baffled, and furious.
As he pulled you along, he spoke to his two goons, “Crabbe, Goyle, go.”
“Please.” you managed to add at the end, hating the way that the Malfoy heir spoke to his friends.
And before you could acknowledge their thankful faces, Draco yanked you into a storage closet, slamming the door behind him, not caring who saw you two enter such an enclosed space together.
Before you could put in more than a second thought, Draco kissed you, gently and carefully, as if you might shatter underneath his touch, “Darling, I don’t want you to think that I would ever choose anyone over you,” he swore between kisses, and all you managed to do was nod, your cheeks heating up quickly at his bold and compassionate acts.
His lips traveled from your lips, down to your jaw, and eventually your neck, whispering praise and compliments left and right. Even though you would never see this side to him while he was around other people, you were grateful that there was at least a side that he would only allow you to see.
He chuckled when you gasped at his hand traveling up your skirt, his lips still sucking plum-colored marks in the crook of your neck (easily covered up by your uniform).
And you couldn’t wait for what he was going to do to you next.
