#x brown reader

What you didn’t expect was being pulled out of it as a large hand curled around your upper arm, pulling you into a corner by the stairs. You looked up, warm with alcohol as a pair of piercing chocolate eyes looked down at you, fiery ginger hair and a lazy grin. Your stomach fluttered as a grin grew on your lips.

“Freddie! I haven’t seen you all night, thought you bailed ‘n left poor George here.” You mused, looking up at his towering frame. He chuckled, crossing his arms. “Miss seeing you? I’d feel robbed of the prettiest glittering thing in the common room.” 

He gestured to your excessive jewellery, you snickered in response, playfully swatting his wrist while he gestured. “Oh, hush! Don’t spend all your time here, want me to introduce you to a few? There’s a girl I feel you’d get on with—” You said excitedly before you heard his tongue click. He leaned over you, lowering his head to mumble in your ear.

“Think I’m happy enough with you, mhm?” He mumbled, making your cheeks burn. “Well– well, okay! I just— There’s people looking for me, okay?” You sputtered out, eyes wider as you patted his chest like your insides weren’t exploding. His grin only widened as he leaned back, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Shame. Look for me, alright, pretty girl?”

You laughed in response, giving him a bright smile. “Oh, for sure. Who else’ll call me the prettiest glittering thing in the room? Can’t let go of that ego fuel, can I?”

He snickered, moving to loosely touch your hair, tilting his head. “If anyone else calls you pretty, tell ‘em I did first, will you?” The soft, subtle touch of possessiveness made your knees feel like jelly. Your name was yelled again, and you fell back into it, into the music and the laughter—but Fred hung at the back of your mind, sat in your ribs. Your breathing hitched just a tad whenever you heard his loud laughter from across the party.

You told yourself Fred was just touchy, you didn’t know each other beyond the parties, beyond the noise. You were fine with that, you always kept yourself occupied. He was always occupied. 

But there it began.

Party after party, the common rooms switching but the people constant. With Umbridge’s rules and the fact it was the last year for so many, parties were thrown almost every single night.

You never minded, always attending each one. People needed it; to be able to let loose and have fun. But Fred came to each and every one too.

Every single one.

Fair, it was his final year too, you doubted he’d even finish it with how much he talked about his upcoming shop. But you felt his eyes on you through every one. You felt insane when you looked his face, only to see him doing something else. Not looking at you. 

Were you the one thinking of him? Wishing he’d look at you?

You shook the thought, back on the dance floor, pulling people in as Sean Paul blasted over the speakers, making quite literally every girl in the room scream and dance together.

You were flushed, dancing with Katie Bell to the upbeat song, moving your hips as you and Katie sang the song at each other, grins wide.

You were completely consumed by it, swaying to the music. Spinning around with the rest of the bodies in the crowd. You looked around, spotting Fred on the outskirts of the dance floor just as the song switched, Everybody Wants To Rule The World, Tears for Fears. 

The new songs pulled more guys in, and you moved to grab Fred’s wrist making him scoff and shake his head. “Oh, no no no—“ making you snicker, nodding as you tugged him into the crowd. 

“Oh, yes, Weasley. You’re not shy, right?” You cooed, making him exaggeratedly groan. You danced to the slower song in front of him, singing with him. Though he was quite reluctant to, he sang with a soft smirk, rolling his eyes every once in a while when you very dramatically acted out the lyrics.

The next song came, then the next. You two stayed, he got more comfortable. Dancing, swaying, singing, grinning at each other. 

You shared drinks, teased each other—had a complete ball.

Soon, your interactions shifted, evolved.

Parties turned into bumping into eachother in the back of the library.

Alcohol turned sharing coffee during hangovers.

The music started sounding like rain when you and him sit together in the Astronomy Tower. It sounded like the crackling of the Gryffindor Common Room fire when he and George made you wear a Gryffindor tie to sneak you in under the guise of you being the only tolerable Slytherin. 

Talking at parties was natural, he went straight to you when he walked in; you always gave him your full attention in turn. The girl who was the human version of everywhere, all at once, began to find a place to be. Fred.

Gradually, people went to Fred when they needed you—and someone always needed you. She almost gave Fred a starter pack on how to help people if you were busy.

If someone asked Fred why he had a pouch in his bookbag full of pads, inflatable heating pads, spare underwear, lip balm, and pain-relief potion seven months ago, he’d have snorted and made some dumb joke about being the saint Mary for women’s needs.

But now? He quite literally was. Because of you. 

You’d begun letting yourself into his dorm whenever you wanted; Lee and George were used to you hanging around their dorm at this point. You and Fred would sit on his bed, you’d tell him all the drama that looked for your advice on to make sure he could give his two cents whenever anyone came asking for your opinion. Late nights just sitting within the curtains of his four-poster bed, whispering and giggling people's problems. He’d occasionally snort at the ridiculousness.

Your heart swelled—you loved being everyone’s girl. Everyone’s person. But this? Sitting with him? It felt like you had a person, felt like you were his someone. 

And on it went. Months. It came to a point, you and Fred snuck out of your common rooms, in nothing but dorky Merlin pyjamas you’d both bought on a whim to be funny. 

He leaned against the railing of the Astronomy Tower, the air was cool, but not biting. Your shoulder kept bumping against his as you swayed softly, humming some Beatles song under your breath. He didn’t move, looked out towards the stars. The silence wasn’t alarming, you’d learned that Fred thought about stuff a lot when he was alone, and you always let him be alone with you. 

Your fingers brushed too many times for it not to be deliberate. 

“You know me ‘n Georgie’ll be leaving soon. The shop. Everything and whatnot. I won’t be here.” He said softly into the night, looking at you with the same intensity his eyes always had. He was like a live storm, no matter how quiet. You nodded once, looking back at him. 

“I know. It’ll be weird. Can’t wait to see it, though.” You said in turn, offering up a smile. He didn’t reciprocate, not satisfied. 

“I won’t be here.” He repeated.

“The hallways will be quieter.”

“I’ll be, like, gone. No more this.”

“I’ll miss it. I’ll write to you.”

He pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at you like you were messing with him.

“Are you taking the piss?” He huffed, frowning at you. You frowned back, tilting your head. “Of what?”

He groaned, moving to face you, dragging a hand down his face. “Merlin, woman. Me. You. Us. Is there seriously nothing you want to talk about on this horrifically romantic night?”

Your heart picked up a few beats, looking at his warm chocolate eyes, now swirling with frustration. “Do you?”

He gaped, almost exasperated. “What—what do you even– Of course! You’re just– The whispering in my ear?! I–I have a bloody period kit for helping people because you asked! Not to mention the fact it’s a known fact that everyone knows that I always know your bloody whereabouts?!”

He grabbed your shoulders, you yelped. “Freddie!”

“You’re gonna make me go mad, okay? I’ll be leaving, love. Gone. You won’t see me. I can meet you at Hogsmeade but that’s it. I’ll be busy with the business. Next time we’ll be proper together will be ages from now.”

He glared, you turned sheepish. 

“Say something or I’ll do something you may not like.” He mumbled, quieter but no less intense. 

“Like kiss me?” You mumbled.

“Like kiss you.”

Your stomach fluttered, because he looked so undeterred, like a string pulled taut to the point of snapping. 

“Do it then.” You whispered, making his hands move from your shoulders to your hips, squeezing the plump skin before tugging you closer. 

“Fuckin’ crazy. You’re terrifying. I-I can’t even begin to keep myself sane near you.” He huffed, his lips ghosted over yours, making your pulse hammer inside your veins, against your skin.

He leaned down, teeth clinking into a messy, open-mouthed kiss. You were breathing into each other’s mouths, practically sucking each other in.

And so Slytherin’s party girl found something beyond the strobing lights and blasting music. Something equally as enjoyable, but just a bit closer to her heart.

"Shit," the look on his face could've been mistaken for excruciating pain if it weren't for the pathetic whimper that slipped under his radar of not giving you the satisfaction of watching him fall apart (something he's failed horrifically at). Dean forced a slow, shaky exhale as his eyelids fly open, rapid blinks doing nothing to mitigate the near painful throb between his legs.

You pull away from his cock with a smile, eyes locked on his despite his efforts to look away. Dean's nails dug deeper into the leather of your couch the second you ghosted a finger over his frenulum, gently rubbing back and forth in slow strokes as your other hand wrapped around the base. Another strangled sound left his throat when your gentle – borderline nonexistent – touch moved to run over the slit of his cock.

Beads of milky precum ran down the curve of his length, gathering around your fingers as you leaned closer to kitten-lick at the trail it left. Dean's cock twitched in your hand, his balls tightening with every small movement you made.

Sloppy, sideways kisses to the head of his cock blended into you lapping and swirling your tongue around the first inch of his length. The room soon filled with Dean's heavy sighs of pleasure and throaty, guttural curses alongside the wet, sloppy sounds of you teasing him. You spit onto his cock, quickly wrap your lips around him to suck it back into your mouth, then press your lips to his underside, tongue pushing the mixture of spit and pre back into his length.

"God, you're a fuckin' mess," he panted, hand coming to cup your slick chin as he finally let go of his composure. His green eyes darted over your face, lingering as if committing the sight of you kneeled and slick with both you and him to memory. You simply hummed a small "mhm" that trails of into a moan, pressing him back into your mouth as your hand pumps the rest of his length.

"mm, you fuckin' love that shit, don't you?" The combination of your words, the filthy image of you between his legs, and the lust-drunk chuckle that left your lips moments after tonguing at the head of his cock; Dean released a sound between a groan and a whine before throwing his head back yet again.

"Fuck, y'know I do," he panted. "Fuckin' love how nasty you are," Dean was cut off by an involuntary shout of pleasure when you suddenly took his length down to the base, throat squeezing tight.

Broken, half-minded babbling of how sexy you were and how good you made him feel spilled out of him like wine over a glass, filling the room with the echoes of his praise. It's not until your free hand gently massaged his balls that you knew he couldn't hold back much longer.

Dean's thighs jerked together – his tell-tale sign that he's moments from busting – as both of his hands flew to cradle your head. Thoughtless pumps of his hips into your mouth brought him to the very brink of pleasure, his bottom lip pulled painfully between the growing pressure of his teeth.

You let him throatfuck you until he's grunting, broken "jus' like that"s and "fuck, baby"s filling your ears as his cum gushed down your esophagus. Each swallow and added suction from your mouth coaxed more cum until he physically couldn't anymore. His hands that once held your face pawed at your shoulders, weak attempts at stopping the overstimulated pleasure racking his senses.

You pulled away with a grin, only to making a show of licking him clean and stuffing any remaining precum on your fingers into your mouth. He watched behind half-lidded eyes and parted lips, throat bobbing as his half-soft cock twitched at the sight.

"God, you're dirty," he huffed a bout of incredulous laughter, voice hoarse as he guides your lips to his. He groaned at his own taste heavy on your tongue and he deepens the kiss with no hesitation.

you simply laughed and nodded as he licked away the remaining arousal and spit off of your chin.

. fin.

Everything he planned to say was almost forgotten, sticking in his throat and causing his tongue to feel uncomfortable in his mouth, but he swallowed and held his composure as he took a step towards you and covered the cheeks of your face in each large hand of his.

It always calmed him down.

“I’m so sorry. For everything.”

You nodded, probably not sure what to say yourself.

“I know what I said in the past, but I met this kid and he was great and I realized I could do this. I can do this, and I want to do this. Please, will you let me?”

Tears were falling down your face now.

He did his best to wipe away each one.

“Of-of course. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, Peter.”

And the rest was easy. Almost too easy. A fact you seemed to be more aware of it than Peter. A part of you wanted to resent him for it, but lord knows you couldn’t.

He had a full time job, and he was Spider-Man. He never missed a beat at either, and on top of that, he was helping around the house more, he was cooking more, and as you both were doing your best to try for a baby, it wasn’t happening as quickly as you two would have thought.

You were devastated after each and every time it didn’t happen.

Peter somehow grew more determined after each time the results weren’t the ones you both were looking for, finding the right words to make you feel better in the process.

He was so perfect about everything.

It filled you with such emotion.

But you had a busier day job that was more demanding, it took you away from everything. It—

“What’s got you so worked up?”

Peter frowned, his shoulders squaring as he wrapped his arms around you.

You almost jumped. You didn’t hear him slip through the window of the bedroom.

“How am I going to be a good mother?” You sniffed.

Peter’s eyebrows scrunched into his brow, emphasizing the little crooked bump on the bridge of his nose.

“What kind of question is that?” He almost laughed, but dutifully kept it in, “you practically did nothing but take care of me for the last ten years. You’re going to be an amazing mother.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He kissed you in the forehead, pulling you tight against his body.

“Your heart is so big,” he kissed you before you could respond, slow, hard, and taking every breath you had left in your lungs, “you care so much about everything and everyone.” He kisses you again before moving his mouth along your jaw to your neck, biting and nipping at every bit of your skin.

“Any kid would be lucky to have you as a mother.” He moved his hands from your side to your shoulders, massaging them about before kissing you again. His large hands squeezed, tugged, and kneaded every inch of your skin through your clothes, or at least what little bit of clothes you were wearing.

He loved your body as much as he loved you. You didn’t like being objectified, but he did know how to show how much he loved you. You didn’t show insecurity on the outside, he wasn’t a hundred percent sure if you even had any, but if there was a small chance that there might be, in the secret corners of your psyche that only you knew about, he’d fight them with all his might.

The more he touched you the warmer you got.

Squeezing your ass with both palms through your tiny sleep shorts you moaned into his parted lips, making a smirk form on his lips. He snaked his hands back up your exposed tummy and brought his thumbs onto your nipped, making them swell up more.

“Peter.” You pant.

“Will you let me show you?” He breathed onto your face. His words felt hot and heavy on your skin, “Will you let me fill you up? Put a baby in you, so you can see just how good a mother you’ll be?”

After barely a nod and a barely verbal response, he was already scooping you in his arms.

Your legs held on tightly and you raked your hands through his hair, pulling tightly.

He hissed as he placed you back on the bed, keeping your legs wrapped around him as he shoved off the bottom of his spider suit.

He didn’t waste any time before sliding into you, stretching you out and hitting you in just the right spot.

“You're so perfect.” He emphasized his point with one hard thrust.

“You take care of me.” He was gliding into you now with such a speed you couldn’t keep up with, moving his hips with such force you could barely think. You tighten your legs around his back, pulling him closer. Helping him fuck you just that much harder.

The sounds were obscene.

The hard wet slaps of his hips meeting yours were drowning out the moans from your lips and the grunts and pants from Peter.

“If you.. takecareofme—fuck,” he slipped out of you, causing you to keen and arch your back, “sorry,” he grinned down at you before thrusting back into you.”

You squeezed around him, your pussy fluttering uncontrollable.

“Fuck, baby.” Peter heeled over, his mouth unbearably hot on your neck as he moaned onto your skin, the sensation burning the pores of your skin.

After a second he was fucking you harder than before, your legs going limp and your back arching completely off the bed.

With the last ounce of strength you had, you wrapped your arms around his back and pulled him down against you, clenching one more time around him, you both cried as you came.

He collapsed on top of you, kissing your cheek and pressing himself firm against you. Neither of you ever talked about it, but you both knew why he did it.

Why he let dick soften inside you before he pulled out, why he sometimes would gather what spilled out and push it back in, and how he waited a few more minutes before taking the time to clean you up.