Everytime I See This Gif I Am A Sinner

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Prom?

pairing: eddie munson x reader

summary: you ask your boyfriend to be your date to the prom, but he turns you down. angst to fluff

wc: 3.4k

a/n: the chokehold this man has on me is unreal

stranger things masterlist

“Prom?” Eddie repeated back to you, bewildered and borderline offended by the mere suggestion. “You’re asking me to prom?”

You nodded, playing with your hands and avoiding eye contact. You knew this was a mistake. After spending so much time listening to his rants about conformity and “the dark side,” you should have known he wouldn’t be interested. 

“Sorry, Yn, but it’s really just not my scene. Wouldn’t you rather go on a regular date like we usually do?” he asked apologetically, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. He hated that he was the one to put such a dejected look on your pretty face, but he’d rather do almost anything else than go to a stupid school dance, even if it was with his girlfriend. Eddie swore his heart cracked when you only responded with a simple no, leaving him standing in the school parking lot by himself. You had been so hopeful that he would say yes. It was your senior prom and you wanted to go with your boyfriend. You hadn’t gone junior year, so this was your last chance to have this high school experience. 

You didn’t sit at the table the next day at lunch. Or the next. Or the next. You were actively avoiding Eddie, and the more you avoided him, the more his heart cracked. His eccentric personality was becoming more subdued with each passing day. It hurt to see him like that from across the cafeteria, but frankly you were hurt and slightly embarrassed at being rejected by your own boyfriend.

Not knowing what to do about his relationship problems, Eddie consulted Hellfire.

“Dude, you obviously hurt her feelings. Would it really be that bad to take her to prom? I mean c’mon, don’t you want to see your ‘sweetheart’ all dolled up just for you?” said Dustin, the rest of the guys nodding in agreement.

Eddie sighed, “If I showed up to prom, I’d make a hypocrite of myself. I love her, but…” He trailed off.

“But what?” You interrupted from behind him. You had decided to rejoin the boys at their table, intending to ask Eddie if you could talk privately. You wanted to apologize for the past few days. A silly school dance wasn’t worth your relationship.

Eddie stared up at you from his seat, wide-eyed, trying desperately to form the words that would stop the tears in your eyes from falling, but nothing but stuttering came out. With every fresh tear from your eyes, the cracks in Eddie’s heart deepened until it finally shattered at what you said next.

“If you have doubts about how you feel about me, then maybe we shouldn’t be together.” Your words came out in a whisper, as if it would lessen the blow. You hadn’t said it in a fit of anger, hadn’t said it to be malicious, you had actually meant it. Eddie was going into a tailspin. You broke up with him. The most precious person in his life was walking out the cafeteria doors, out of his life, and for what? Because his pride got in the way? Because he couldn’t give his girl one night? His club members were talking to him, but it was all just background noise to Eddie.

Mike snapped his fingers in Eddie’s face, “Dude! What are you doing?! Go after her!” That was all it took to spring Eddie into action. You were the best thing in his life and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try to fix this.

He jumped out of his chair, nearly tripping over his own feet in his rush through the cafeteria. You were nowhere to be found. In a last ditch effort to find you, Eddie ran to the parking lot. He’d gotten there just in time. Just in time to see you pull out onto the road, that is.

From that point forward, all Eddie saw of you was brief glimpses in the hallways and fleeting looks in the cafeteria. 

Soon enough, the dreaded week of prom arrived.

Eddie was staring at you across the lunchroom again, lost in his own pity, when Dustin slammed his hands down on the Hellfire Club’s self proclaimed table. “Dude!! You have to make things right with Yn right now. Your campaigns SUCK lately, and you look like a kicked puppy. Just talk to her, Munson.” 

Eddie sighed and put his head in his hands. “She won’t even talk to me, Henderson. I don’t know what you want me to do.” Before the younger boy could respond, a crash sounded throughout the cafeteria. Everyone looked towards the noise, and the cause of it, which happened to be Robin Buckley hurriedly fixing the trash can she had stumbled over moments prior. 

“Uh- sorry everyone, um- proceed!” She quickly turned and exited the cafeteria, wide eyed with a hand over her mouth. 

“Yn might not talk, but I know someone that will tell you everything you need to know.” Confused, Eddie lifted his head and followed his friend's gaze. “Huh?”

 The next day, in between 3rd and 4th period, Robin found herself cornered by the smallest, most determined-looking freshman she’d ever seen.“Uh, can I help you?”

“That depends.” The boy squinted at her, scrutinizing. 

“On.. what, exactly?”  She shifted anxiously under the curly-haired boy's glare.

Without answering her question, he continued. “Come to the science hall during lunch.” With that, he promptly turned on his heel and hurried away. 

“I’m not doing that.” Robin uttered under her breath. 

Robin did, in fact, do that. Call it a morbid curiosity.

When she arrived, Dustin was already there, checking his watch and tapping his foot as if he was an angry parent. “Seriously, could you have taken any longer? Lunch is almost over!.”  

“Sorry baby-man. Gotta eat.” The boy rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Whatever, Eddie should be here in a second.” 

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear. What’s all this, Henderson?” Before the boy in question could respond, Robin interrupted. “Woah woah woah hold on a second this is bad- I can’t talk to you, Munson.”  Eddie furrowed his brows disbelievingly. “Why? We literally went to middle school together. Are you seriously still mad about the time I cut off your ponytail? I was 12! And it looks super metal short-“ Robin waved her hand in the air, cutting him off. 

“No, dingus! I can’t talk to you because Yn is still super upset with you and now you’re all broken up and stuff! Girl code still exists, dude!” 

The boy darkened. “Oh. Did she.. did she confirm that we were broken up or..” 

Robin panicked when she saw the look on Eddie’s face. Yes. Panic. That’s what she would tell Yn when she undoubtedly gets in trouble for this later. 

“I mean yes but she still loves you she’s just really upset because it’s her senior year and everything and she knows it’s not your style she just figured that you might make one little sacrifice for your girlfriend because she’s always supporting your Dungeons and Dragons nerd things all the time and it seems like you expect her to compromise and I guess it just hurts her feelings that you won’t do the same for her and she already picked out this really cool dress and she was just really looking forward to it and she’s still going but it just won’t be the same and-”

The girl took a deep breath to begin talking again, but she was interrupted by the man in front of her. “Oh shit. Ohhh I fucked up.”

The boy beside him hummed in acknowledgement. “Oh shit indeed, Eddie.”

Eddie ran a ring-clad hand through his hair and laughed incredulously, sliding down the lockers he had been leaning against. “I’m the biggest idiot ever to exist in the history of idiots.” He frantically looked up at Robin. “Quick, what color is her dress?”

The day had somehow snuck itself onto everyone. Girls were panic-buying hairspray and boys were rushing to the nearest grocer for acceptable looking bouquets. As soon as the sun went down, Hawkins’ roads were filled with rented limos and concerned parents. Meanwhile, Eddie was pacing around his trailer as Dustin tried to give him a pep talk.

“Dude, relax. This’ll work, I’m positive.”

Despite Dustin’s words, Eddie didn’t look any less nervous than he was before. He stood in front of Dustin and spread his arms, “Do I look okay?”

“Perfect! Except for one thing. Do you have a tie?”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t figure out how to tie it so I just took it off. Do I need one?”

Dustin rolled his eyes and sighed, “Bring it here.”

10 minutes later Eddie could proudly say that he knew how to tie a tie. Dustin gave Eddie another once-over before approving; with Dustin’s stamp of approval, Eddie was finally ready to knock on your front door (after dropping Dustin off at home, of course). His emotions were so frazzled that he doesn't even remember the drive. One second he was putting a bouquet in his passenger seat and his guitar in the back and the next he was pulling into your driveway. It was nearly 8pm already, and though he wasn’t a religious man, he was praying to any god out there that you were still home. Eddie knocked on the front door with one sweaty hand, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for someone to open the door.

Except it wasn’t you who opened the door, it was your mother. “Eddie? What are you doing here? Yn’s not here right now.”

He nodded quickly before running back to his van, your mother watching him, confused at his unusual behavior. There was no time to waste. If you weren’t home then you must have already been at the dance. Robin did say you planned to go anyway. Plan B it is.

As soon as he made it to the school, he was rushing to the gym, bouquet in hand and guitar strapped to his back. The dance had already started, which made it difficult to spot you in the crowd of his peers. He eventually spotted you seated at a table with Robin, completely oblivious to his presence. You looked beautiful, and as you laughed at something your friend said, his heart tightened at the thought that it could’ve been him sitting with you and drinking (probably spiked) shitty pink punch.

“Guess she wasn’t home, huh? You owe us big time, Eddie. Do you know how hard it is to rent a tux day of? It’s easier to buy alcohol underage. Thought they were gonna background check us, dude.”  

He turned to his friends and smiled sheepishly. “Seriously though, guys, thanks. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn't agreed.” 

“Whatever Munson, we’re desperate for you to get Yn back. Your campaigns have been dogshit lately because you’re so heartbroken. It’s pathetic. Seriously. Now what set are we playing?”

Eddie smiled. “Oh no boys, we’re not playing a Corroded Coffin original tonight.”

While Eddie led his band-mates backstage, you stood and offered your hand to Robin. “Let’s dance, Rob. I’m missing out on a boyfriend at prom but no WAY am I missing out on dancing to Pat Benatar.” Reluctantly, your friend stood up and took your hand. “Cool ring by the way, where'd you get it?”

You looked at your hand, confused, until you realized you were wearing one of Eddie’s rings. You’d had intentions to give it back, but you couldn’t bear to take it off. It was your favorite of his, a silver, spider shaped ring with a ruby in the middle. “Oh uh, I got it at a vintage shop. Now come on, the song’s almost over!” Dancing with Robin allowed you a moment of reprieve from thinking about Eddie. It didn’t last long though, not when you heard the music stop abruptly, replaced with angry protests from your peers. “Seriously? What gives?” 

Curious, you made your way to the front of the crowd surrounding the stage, Robin in tow. Before you could reach the stage, you heard the sound of a bass guitar starting up. “What the hell?” You finally pushed your way past the group closest to the stage, and what you saw made you stop dead in your tracks. “Robin, please tell me you’re seeing this too.” 

“If you’re also seeing Eddie Munson on stage at prom playing with his band, then yeah I'm seeing it.” 

You gawked as he leaned towards the mic and started singing. There was no way he was going to these lengths. “Tonight- I wanna give it all to you, In the darkness, so much I wanna do-“ You saw him search the crowd, but his eyes never met yours.

“Doesn’t he usually play all that death metal stuff? Kind of a genre switch if you ask me.” You looked at Robin and ran your hand through your hair. “Yeah-” You had to yell over the deafening noise . “It’s my favorite!”

 “And tonight- I wanna lay it at your feet, ‘cause girl I was made for you, and girl you were made for me-“ 

The crowd was buzzing again, excited that the ‘freaks’ were playing recognizable music. “I was made for lovin’ you baby, you were made for lovin’ me!” You felt yourself smile endearingly, adoring how at-home Eddie looked in his element, eyes closed and all but yelling into the microphone. 

“And I can’t get enough of you baby, can you get enough of me?” For the first time, you took notice of his outfit. It looked like he’d actually tried- he had a tie and everything, though he hadn’t taken off his signature rings or his worn-down converse. (You preferred it that way anyways- it was unapologetically Eddie) 

“And tonight, I wanna see it in your eyes, feel the magic, there’s somethin’ that drives me wild.” His eyes raked over the crowd again. “And tonight, we’re gonna make it come true, cause girl you were made for me, and girl I was made for you-“ Finally, your eyes met his, and he grinned, triumphant. With as much force as he could muster, he sang the chorus, and motioned for the crowd to join. “I was made for lovin’ you, baby, you were made for lovin’ me!” Throughout the rest of the song, Eddie’s eyes were only on you, pleased that you at least looked amused at his performance. However, as soon as the song ended, his confidence was spent and he was eaten up with anxiety. Would you be angry? Would you tell him to piss off? As he left the stage in an attempt to find you, he felt a hand clasp his shoulder. Expecting you, he turned around, but instead found himself face-to-face with his drummer.

 “I saw her head to the bathroom with Buckley. They’re probably deciding your fate right now, dude.” 

“Thanks, Gareth, that really makes me feel better.” Eddie deadpanned.

 “I’d pray to god that Yn’s in a forgiving mood. We’ll catch you later, Eddie. Goodluck.”

“Y’know, I don’t see why you're so freaked about it. Do you have any idea how many girls would kill to have a guy that would do that for her?” 

“Do you know how many girls didn’t have to break up with their boyfriends before they showed up to the god damn prom?” 

Robin shrugged. “Touché.”

“So, what do you think I should do?”

“Don’t leave it up to me!” she screeched. “I’ve never had to deal with this before!”

“No no no, not a valid answer. What would love guru Steve Harrington do?”

Robin snorted. “Something dumb, probably.” You groaned and put your head in your hands as you slid down the stall door. “Somebody sedate me.”

After a moment of silence, Robin spoke up, giving her best impression of Steve. “You gotta take a chance on the guy, what if you lose the wrong guy and end up a single, nerdy loser that works at a video shop like me for the rest of your life?”

You giggle, but then pause. “Wait, you’re right.”

Robin blanched. “About your future of being a single loser?”

You pushed her slightly. “No idiot, about taking a chance.” You lept to your feet and started out of the bathroom. “Hey, where are you going?” 

“To do something dumb, probably.” 

As soon as you exited the bathroom, you frantically looked around for a glimpse of Eddie’s mess of dark hair. Immediately, you spotted him pacing around the entrance to the gym. He was fiddling with his hair, frazzling the ends and rolling them over his fingers. You walked towards him quietly, and he didn’t notice you until you spoke.

 “You clean up pretty good, Munson.” You lightly joked. “Oh my god, Yn-“ He was tempted to hug you, but he didn’t know how you'd react. Your arms were crossed over your chest and you looked uncomfortable. God, he could feel his palms sweating already. “Yn, I'm so sorry, I’ve been such a dick and you look so amazing and I can’t believe I almost missed seeing you just because of my pride. I’ve been totally blind to your needs and just totally inconsiderate. I hope you can forgive me.” Afraid of your answer, he looked down at his feet, bracing himself for your response. 

To his surprise, you just sighed. “Eddie.. It’s not all your fault. I overreacted over something I knew was probably a stretch in the first place. I knew prom wasn’t really your thing and I almost lost the guy I love over it.”

He looked up and met your eyes, hopeful. ”So you forgive me?”

You smiled and he pulled you into a hug. “This time. But you know, you can’t just show up and sing me a Kiss song everytime we fight.”

He grinned. “Of course. Next time it’ll be a Depeche Mode song, then Tears for Fears, then maybe even an Ozzy song.” You rolled your eyes. “Whatever, Munson.” You snuggled into his chest and appreciated his warmth for a moment until he moved. 

“Hey wait, I have something for you. He removed his hands from around your waist and stepped back. 

“Close your eyes!” He said in a sing-song voice. You huffed a breath in amusement and complied. “They’re closed.” You heard shuffling before he spoke again. “Wait here for a sec.” You heard footsteps retreating and waited, but not for long. 

When he returned, he was accompanied by a crinkling sound. “Okay now open.” You complied, and were met by the sight of Eddie offering you a bouquet that nearly covered his entire face. You held back a giggle and took the flowers as he cleared his throat comically and brought himself down to one knee. 

“Now, will you, Miss Yn Ln, do me the ultimate honor and accompany me to senior prom?” 

You tapped the bouquet to your chin and pretended to think deeply. 

“Okay, sweetheart, honey, baby, I’m gonna be honest with you, I don’t have the strongest knees and this is really doing a number on me.” You laughed and offered your hand to him in a faux-cordial manner. “Well, Mr. Munson, I would be delighted to accompany you to the senior prom.” Before he stood, he kissed your hand and smiled. “I love you, Yn.” You felt yourself melt a little. “I love you too, Eddie.” He brought you into yet another hug, burying his face into your neck. You stayed like that for a few minutes, until you felt him smirk against your neck and lift his head to meet your eyes.

“So I take it you liked my performance?” He raised his brows and you huffed. “Oh my god, would you just shut up and kiss me already?” He smiled and leaned in until your lips were ghosting each other. “As the lady wishes.” Finally, his lips connected with yours. After a moment, you pulled away. “So I guess I really did get the entire prom experience, Mr. Teen Angst.” 

  “Not quite.” You gave him a questioning look, but all he did was wiggle his brows suggestively. You deadpanned and started walking back to the gym. “Always gotta ruin the sweet moment, Munson. Keep it in your pants at least until we get home, ’kay?” He smiled and followed after you. “No promises!” When he caught up to you, he grabbed your hand. “And by the way, sweetheart, I'm 20, so it’s not teen angst, it’s just the regular kind.” 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

TAEMIN  ✦  SEXUALITY  ✦  The 1st Stage Nippon Budokan

I am sobbing

STRANGER THINGS Vol 2 | Papa (4.08)

Hi,

I had a quick look on your masterlist and saw that you are writing for the Harry Potter fandom, does that also include Fantastic Beasts? (Love your stories, especially the new Hannibal one <3)

Sure does! Lmk who you want me to write for from the series and where you'd like the story to go!

Thank you for all the love on my Hannibal fics!

💛 🦐

AMERICAN HORROR STORY

Tate Langdon:

Young Love: The sweetness of the rain allows for the feelings of love. Just some fluffy Tate :)

(Romance/Fluff)

Together Forever: Tate isn't letting you go now that he has you within his grasp. You're his and he'll do anything to remind you of that. Even if it means your death.

(Romance/Angst/Yandere)

This is so cute, omg 😭 💛💛

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋

summary: when peter finds himself in another universe like his, he never expects a pretty girl on the other side to completely throw him off.

CONTAINS ‘NO WAY HOME’ SPOILERS!!

masterlist.

STOP BECAUSE HIS SMILE MAKES ME WANT TO CRY </3

andrew!peter parker x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, flustered peter, cute lil moments and that’s kind of it? let me know if i missed any :)

don’t steal any of my work, thanks!

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𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 in a dark alleyway, breathing laboured as he had been swinging for the past thirty minutes out of boredom. The thump of his feet hitting the ground from a high level echoed down the empty area, not another presence apart from rats scurrying around, savaging for leftover foods.

He stood there for a moment, catching his breath with his hands on his knees bent over. Peter swallowed hardly, pushing himself up as he realised he owed Aunt May a new box of eggs after smashing the last.

His feet began to carry him away before a glowing light appeared in the corner of his eye. His spidey sense was going wild, increasing Peter’s curiosity as the more he turned his head to the glow; the more his spidey sense tingled.

“Peter! Peter” He heard his name called. He tilted his head to the side as the ominous glow spiralled into a circle, a clear new setting growing in the middle. Peter furrowed his brows behind the mask and looked around, wondering if this was meant for someone else. When no one seemed to respond to the people waving to him in the glow, Peter took it upon himself to retreat towards the mystery.

The closer he moved to the other side of the spiral, the more these people encouraged him. Peter had never met these people in his life so how on earth did they know his identity?

As Peter edged nearer to the entrance, he noticed the lookalike teenagers panic and take multiple hurried steps back. His curiosity got the better of him as he leaped into the separate setting and earning screams from everyone in the room at his presence.

Peter’s hands waved around trying to tell the people that he was harmless and only their friendly neighbourhood Spiderman. He tried waving at the four in the room, claiming everything is okay while a pillow was thrown at his stomach by a screaming older lady.

His hand raised to the top of his mask and ripped it off on one movement before his eyes scanned the room. The lady who had thrown the pillow had sprinted to the bottom of the stairs, the only boy (excluding Peter) was standing behind the table with his hands out like he was casting a spell. Peter’s eyes drifted to a young, possibly teenage girl stood behind a defensive arm, holding the most confused expression ever. There was a person standing infront of her, like the teenager needed protecting. His eyes travelled up the arm as then landed on you- Oh my God, you.

You were so beautiful. Your hair was falling from the clip secured loosely at the back of you head, locks of hair poking out the top. Your face looked concerned. Your eyebrows were scrunched slightly and your lips were twitched up and apart, showing your teeth which Peter knew you had a gorgeous smile. Peter admired the way your cheeks were flushed a light pink colour when he tore off his mask. His instant favourite part of you were your eyes. He noticed how they softened when you noticed the lack of danger in the room, your lashes adding another layer of beauty to your already perfect face.

“Who are you?” MJ pointed an excusing finger from behind your dominating form at the stranger who jumped through Dr Strange’s portal-magic thing? Peter’s gaze was still on your, “My name’s Peter Parker.” He said slowly, making sure everyone (mainly you but…) hung onto his words and processed them.

MJ looked up to your face, yours still looking at him. “That’s not possible!” She whispered harshly into your ear, making you snap out of your glare from the man.

Peter held his mask in his sweaty palms and lifted both to indicate his face, “I am the Spiderman from my world but yesterday,” His eyes widened and began tripping up on his words at attempts to explain infront of you. “I was just here!” He spoke with uncertainty and began to walk from his stationary spot in the room.

The three of you looked at each other as ‘Peter’ admired the room, gasps leaving his mouth as the house seemed to surprise him more than anything. “Multiverse theory?” He questioned, looking at you mainly. You muttered out a small yes and nodded your head rapidly as he fist pumped the air, letting out a small “I knew it!”

Ned tapped your shoulder and the three of you leaned in, “This has to be because of the spell!” He voice wandered. A hand on your back startled you before you felt Peter lean himself over you, his head hovering above your shoulder. “The spell?” He spoke with glee right next to your face. A beaming smile spread across his face, “A magic spell?” He smiled, feeling a softening glare from you.

Ned and MJ were quick to shake their heads as their voices overlapped one and other, “What spell? There was no spell!”. His excited demure tapped his fingers on your back, “There’s magic here too?” You felt his breath tingle on your cheek as small giggles fell from his lips.

MJ tugged your body back with a pull of your wrist, feeling Peter’s warm touch slip from your back and seeing his smile drop. “Prove it.” She spoke strongly, keeping your wrist in a tight hold. “Prove to us that you’re Spiderman, Peter Parker.”

The man tapped the sides of his suit, “I don’t carry an ID with me, kind of defeats the whole anonymous superhero thing?” His nose scrunched in confusion.

MJ used the hand not holding you to pick up the piece of bread you had raised to your mouth, about to happily eat, to throw at the man in front of you. The bread tapped his chest and did zero harm physically or mentally to the man. His lips upturned and his shoulders shrugged, “Why did you do that?”

Her hand was held up in front of her in a pathetic defence. “She’s trying to see if you have the tingle thing.” You said for the furious girl beside you, thinking some man is trying to imitate her boyfriend.

Peter’s eyes snapped to yours as he heard your angelic voice for the first time, the sigh in your tone made Peter want to grab your face and kiss you so passionately (even though he’s just met you, he knows true love when he sees it.)

He swallowed down his inner voice and said “Yes, I have the tingle thing; just not for bread.” MJ wasn’t convinced.

MJ’s hand snatched to grab another piece and lifted it high in the air. “Can- can you not throw the bread again?” Peter said with confusion laced in his voice. “You’re a deeply mistrusting person,” He raised his hands and he backed away. “And I respect that.” He confessed before he jumped up and stuck his hand on the ceiling.

His legs and one arm holding his mask dangled, his eyes meeting yours and sending a subtle wink your way. Why were you blushing? MJ’s fingers pointed around the ceiling as a odd looking scowl was imprinted on her face. “Crawl around.”

“Crawl around?” He sounded almost offended. His eyes broke from yours as he shook his head with a certain, “No.”

“Yes. Crawl around.” MJ stood her ground.

“Why do I need to crawl around?”

“Because it’s not enough!”

“This is plenty.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

“Nuh uh!”

“It is.”

Peter groaned, “How do I stick to the ceiling?” He squinted his eyes before another piece of bread was thrown at his chest, earning a small laugh from your beside the bickering teenager.

Ned’s grandmother tapped you on the shoulder and explained in the easiest way possible for you, “Ned’s grandma asked if you could get that cobweb in the corner there?” You asked on behalf of her with a scrunched nose, looking at the attractive man holding a face of ‘I’m done’ hanging from the ceiling.

Peter obliged to your words almost instantly as he stuffed his mask to hold in his teeth, as he lifted his body to be on all fours on the ceiling. Ned and MJ glanced at each other as he followed your rules easily and not theirs, both confused on his beg for attention from you.

He cleared the cobweb after a heartless ‘Thank you’ from Ned’s mum. Peter detached himself from the ceiling and landed on the floor directly in front of you.

His chest was close to yours and so were your faces. Your noses nudged slightly as his tall figure leaned over yours, the smile hidden behind his grip on the mask reflected your own. Tension swarmed the two of you as his hand brushed your own ever so slightly.

The unknown moment between the two of you was interrupted at both of your heads snapped towards the new voice in the room. “Wait a minute, he’s not your friend…” The new Peter looked questionably at your Peter.

A newfound silence flooded the room as the two practically had a stare off before they both webbed at each other and swiftly landed on the kitchen island.

Your Peter hopped off the counter and stood by your side, coming shoulder to shoulder with you as the two of you unintentionally blocked out most of new Peter’s words.

Your Peter’s hand grazed your fingers and lightly touched them in an invitation to hold. You opened your hand and felt his warm palm slip into yours. A smile tugged on your face at the heat rising to your prominent cheeks. Sending a teasing smile MJ’s way as she winked at Peter’s height against yours, holding your hand.

A goofy smile spread across Peter’s lips as he held hands with the pretty girl he would soon become more with.

actually love this :(

taglist (let me know if wished to be removed,, you will be tagged in later andrew!peter posts! let me know if you don’t want this haha!)

@tsukishimawhore

@weasleytwinscumslut

@flymeaway-karasuno

@morgane-stark

@panicatwakanda

@krishavania

@lavendersfairy

@jessica2008

@ancailinaerach

@softmullet

@jemimah-b99

@elarasstardust

@anecdoteissues

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MASTERLIST:

I take requests! Above are the links to the fanfictions and below them are the characters I write for :) Enjoy! 💛🦐

BTS

Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi, Park Jimin, Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin

TXT

Choi Soobin, Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu, Huening Kamal Kai, Kang Taehyun

NCT

Yuta Nakamoto, Johnny Seo, Hendery

American Horror Story

Tate Langdon

The Walking Dead

Carl Grimes

Hannibal

Hannibal Lecter

Bones And All

Lee

Harry Potter

Draco Malfoy

Spiderman

TASM! Peter Parker

DUNE

Paul Atreides

Strangers From Hell

Seo Moon-Jo

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson

Celebrities

Brad Pitt

Mads Mikkelsen

Hey,

First of all, I absolutely adore your writing style and in general your stories (especially the Hannibal ones). Could you please write one, where Hannibal is overly possessive, because he thought his wife got too close to Chilton at one of his dinner parties? And to end it all of there is smut. (If you are comfortable with that).Thank you for considering

Close Call

Hannibal Lecter X Reader

⚠️ Warnings: Over possessiveness on Hannibal's part, slight angst, swearing, mentions of blood and wounds, sociopathic and manipulative tendencies, uhh first time writing smut so hopefully it's okay (it's fairly light) ⚠️

I also didn't read through this again and edit it, so I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors!

Hannibal finds himself somewhat outraged at an overly confident Chilton getting too close to his wife. No matter, he'll just have to remind the two of you of what's his.

Dinner parties were nothing short of extravagant when it came to Hannibal Lecter's craft.

The wines were paired with the delicacies adorning the plates on the mahogany table; everything had its own respective place, down to the last spoon and fork on each intricately folded napkin. There was, of course, the smell wafting through the corridors of the Lecters' home, signifying the delicious meal being prepared in the kitchen and acting as bait to those mingling in the living room as they awaited the call to be seated. From your perspective, the table had to be crafted to perfection so that the party full of rich good-for-nothings had no complaints of the events of the night. Of course, you adored your husband's cooking, but less so you enjoyed the company he chose. Intelligence wasn't something that came from the accumulation of degrees and the bragging of doing so- in your opinion- but rather came from the passion associated with the understanding of others and their natural environments. In other words, conversations of nonsensical retellings of the rise to power and gathering of wealth that these particular guests had were of no interest to you. These people spoke of books on law and work projects as though they've forgotten entirely what it means to express humanity: experience.

But you were ever so careful to express your opinion on the subject of what it means to be human. Although you acknowledged your differing perspective, you didn't want to diminish the perspectives of those who might only know of the desires associated with "book smarts," and not what you referred to as "experience points." These two things could coexist, but it was often that a person leaned heavier towards either side. You still had more to learn about the balance of these, but alas, that is the human condition.

Hannibal loved you for this.

Being someone so intensely driven towards the path of psychology and law, it was refreshing being married to someone who expressed opposition to having that be the basis of every conversation. He loved a good conversation on written words and philosophers and mathematical expressions, but he loved even more to have someone in his life that kept him his understanding of biology and the preservation of his humanity. With his- er- hobby, as some would refer to it as- it became difficult to maintain this humanistic approach. These dinner parties served more as an obligatory social preservation to his image, so as not to be caught with his peculiar hobby.

And the culinary arts were his escape, anyways. A win-win except for the fact you'd be bored out of your mind talking to some of these people, he knew. Nevertheless, you had a polite smile etched onto your face wearing very presentable attire. You were a master at code-switching, it seemed, replacing your usually laid-back and outgoing personality with a more hoity-toity, reserved aura.

You had on a slightly more revealing outfit; a dress so navy it almost seemed black under any lighting that wasn't direct candlelight. This dress had been cut just above the knees with an off-shoulder neckline, exposing the very top of your chest and the beginning of your upper thighs. It was classily paired with silver earrings gifted to you by your husband, and a half up-do with your precariously crafted curls threatening to spill out of the fastened hairclip from behind. Hannibal had expressed just how lovely you'd looked as he helped you with your zipper earlier, placing a hemline of kisses to your collarbone.

He wasn't the only one who'd had this realization dawn on them during the night, however. A bright-eyed Dr. Chilton who'd received nothing short of a pity-invite, found himself drawing away from the conveniently placed appetizers to the lavish chairs facing the fireplace where you sat. He silently waited for your conversation to conclude before he decided to sweep in and take the woman's place on your right, finishing the glass of brandy in his hand before doing so.

"(Y/N)," He almost seemed exasperated, as if he were already slightly drunk, "A pleasure."

He reached out his hand to you in an attempt to get you to shake it as an overly friendly gesture, acknowledgement to his presence. You proceeded to smile at him instead, as you'd become familiar to his intentions.

"Hello, Dr. Chilton, how are you?"

His face flushed as he withdrew his hand from your space, opting to rest it against his leg as he sunk further into his chair, getting more comfortable. He was definitely drunk and if not drunk, then the far side of tipsy. You already didn't care for the guy much, so this chance encounter was a hinderance in your eyes before conversational topics even arose.

"You know, I never understood the drab curtains you chose for the interior of your living room, Mrs. Lecter. They block out all of the sunlight." He began, eyeing the bottle of scotch being poured out by another guest to the left of your chair. His eyes seemed to be glazed over as he spoke, however, the dimly lit fireplace seemed to cast some light back into them. His suit of choice was a corduroy one. The heavy material of the fabric already making him break out in a slight sweat.

Grimacing, you feign another smile as you fully acclimate yourself to the conversation at hand. You tell yourself to remember your polite flattery, but honestly with the way Dr. Chilton was, you knew he would take any sort of attention to his character the wrong way.

"Yes, that was the way we intended them to be, doctor. Have you ever been to our home during the daytime? It's not as drab as you may have perceived it to be."

Dr. Chilton had been coming onto you for quite some time now. Despite knowing you were wed and the many implications of your marriage you'd spoken about, he still managed to hold onto the hope that maybe one day something would spark between the two of you. It wouldn't. It hadn't. His blatantly disrespectful comments about yours and Hannibal's relationship were starting to burrow under your skin and take root in an uncomfortable fashion. Part of you felt bad for the man, another part wanted to sock him in the face.

Respectably, of course.

"Perhaps not. Maybe I spoke out of turn." He claimed, uneasily moving about in his chair despite his initial comfortability at the beginning of your dialogue. Maybe if you kept with the slight I-don't-like-you innuendos, then maybe he would be drunk enough to give it a rest and would return to his normal self come morrow.

"Maybe." You agree, taking a sip from your glass of Chardonnay. It was almost dinnertime. You could hold out until then, couldn't you?

"You know," Chilton began, staring deep into the fire and allowing a hushed sigh to escape your lips in anticipation of another redundant comment, "I used to set fires in Uni all the time. Its a miracle I graduated with any degree at all with the amount of trouble I used to get into as a boy."

Pause. Was there finally something worthwhile to discuss with this man?

"Really? And the occasion was...?" You asked, trying to direct the topic back to this small bombshell the Doctor had just dropped in your presence. Experience points were far more interesting to talk about than a poor understanding of the "48 Laws of Power," which was the last conversation you'd had.

He seemed to perk up in his chair realizing that you'd finally taken something that left his mouth with interest. "None, we were just playing with matches and grew bored. Only got caught because the wind carried the flames back to our dorm which almost set alight." He smiled and for a moment, you could see the memory replaying through those glossy eyes of his. You felt included, as if you'd been there yourself, watching the growing light of the flames dance around the edges of the matches you were playing with.

As if on cue, your husband's hand was gently but firmly placed on your shoulder from behind. You knew instantly it was him because of the wafting smell of his woodsy cologne and the wine he was drinking infiltrating your nose. His grip on you was polite but there was an edge to it, an unfamiliar one at that. Was something wrong?

Turning around, you see his darkened glare towards Chilton in the chair next to you. His matching dark navy suit making him look all the more professional and intimidating in this light; if you were Chilton you'd have run far far away from the glare Hannibal had. He seemed to pay no mind, however, eyes still focused on you until your husband broke the silence:

"Dinnertime."

It was at that moment that you noticed all the other guests had made their way to the kitchen and the three of you were the only ones in the living room. How long had you been talking to the doctor for? Hannibal's repressed anger suddenly made sense.

Walking to the kitchen, you were in awe at the sight before you. Hannibal had really put his all into tonight, and it showed. The plates were nothing short of art with the first course on display with accompanying sauces and garnish that turned them into something out of a museum painting. The entire get-up was something out of the Renaissance itself; everything in its perfect place. Hannibal stood at the head of the table, glass in hand as he prepared to make a toast to progress the night's dinner.

"I would like to thank you all for coming out tonight."

A collection of smiles and exchanged glances ensued, everyone pleased with their invite.

"Amongst this crowd are the most intellectual and inspiring people I've had the pleasure of getting to become familiar with. You're all of high accomplishments and achievements and I would like to thank each of you, individually, with a meal that encapsulates such dedication shown by you all."

Your husband then smiled at you and raised his glass.

"I would also like to thank my lovely wife, with whom I share this simple but joyous life with."

There was a hint of something there, something alongside the adoration he expressed for you on the daily. There was a twinge of that anger once more, but could it really be directed towards your conversation with Chilton? It seemed so clear to you that your husband surpassed the former in every way possible: intelligence and compassion, hell, down to the formal attire he adorned himself with daily. There was no way he would feel threatened by another man so unruly.

"Likewise." You said, tilting your glass up to the ceiling in acknowledgement of his kind and respectable words.

"Once more to reiterate, MY wife and I spent a long time on this meal so I hope you all enjoy it." He smiled a forced grin and directed his gaze towards Chilton. "And nothing on the menu for tonight is vegetarian."

...

The night was filled with more of the usual countless bantering between everyone in the room, trying to appeal more and more to everyone else. You were swept into what seemed like every conversation in the house and all of this sociability was starting to grow exhausting. The meal was phenomenal, to say the least, but did little to calm your worries with your husband's current expression of intolerance and dismay. You wanted nothing more than to head upstairs to your shared bedroom and to sort things out with him; to maybe end the night with a passionate kiss and to then retire to bed, finally. That desire, however, seemed like miles away because of the ongoing event that you were starting to despise more with every passing minute.

Not to mention, your dress was starting to get extremely uncomfortable, as if your skin were melting into the seams of the fabric.

As if on cue to make the night worse, Dr. Chilton was making his way towards you, undoubtedly much more drunk this time. He was stumbling over his own loafers and the floorboards were not his friend at the moment. He was making a fool of himself and you wanted so badly to just disappear.

Just then, the floorboard by the fireplace where you were sitting popped up in front of him. Everything from then went in slow-motion, the wood, the stumbling of Chilton's feet and the slow advancement towards the fire. Seeing how this would play out, you wanted to yell "Stop!" but you were frozen. Just as you had predicted, he had a horrid fall towards the open flame, his cufflinks connecting with the place stones and his right arm breaking the fall. His hand wasn't lucky enough to miss the fire, his scream instantly echoing throughout the room.

"Dr. Chilton!" Hannibal yelled, already to his feet with the pitcher of water from the charcuterie table. It was insane that his reflexes allowed him to respond instantaneously. Almost as if he had prepared for the doctor's fall. Springing the water onto Chilton, the fire was put out almost as quickly as it had started.

"Are you okay?" You asked the doctor, leaning down to his level on the floor, holding his now hurt hand.

"B-b-bandages." He was able to muster out.

The closer look you got to his hand, the closer you could see the wound. The flames didn't consume his flesh for very long, although there was now a coating of red on his skin alongside a few open gashes. Looking to your husband for help, you instead saw him standing above you, a scowl on his lips. He looked angrier than he'd ever before and the sight of it scared you. Had he been angry that the party was ruined? That one of his guests were hurt?

Chilton was then led to the kitchen where his wounds were properly addressed and tended to. The aid kit that had collected dust on the top shelf of the medicine cabinet had finally been put to use, and, upon further inspection, it had been decided for the doctor to call for an ambulance for a more professional treatment.

He left. Everyone followed suit. It was now only you and your husband.

"I'm sorry that had to happen the way it did." You said, reaching out to touch his shoulder and soothe him in my way you could. "Would you like me to help you clean up?"

He mumbled something under his breath before he made his way up the elongated glass stairs. It was unbelievably peculiar for him to retire to bed this early, especially before cleaning up from a party.

"Is something wrong?" You asked, voice coming out as nothing more than a feeble whisper. He stopped in his tracks, his blazer now resting atop his free arm opposite to the one holding the railing. His tie was loosened and from where you were standing, you couldn't see his face all that clearly.

He finally spoke up.

"What are your intentions with Chilton?" He asked.

You stopped in your initial tracks to follow your husband up the stairs. Was he accusing you of courtship? And with the doctor of all people?

"Whatever do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean, (Y/N)."

Your heart broke for a moment, there was no way he really thought that after years of marriage, after what you had come to learn about him and his... capabilities...that you would choose another man, albeit in front of his own eyes?

"I have no intentions with Chilton, Hanni. Not as an acquaintance, not as a friend, not as a lover." You continued to follow him up the stairs and to your shared bedroom where he placed the blazer and tie on the bedside table rather than hang it up as he usually did. He undid his cufflinks and unbuttoned the top his neckline.

"I only want you, Hannibal. You know that."

He pursed his lips and finally, from where he leant against the bed, looked up at you standing in the doorframe. Your expression was a worried one, not of someone who had underlying intentions. Hannibal knew what you wanted, knew who you wanted, but Chilton had gotten the better of him tonight. And besides, tormenting the two of you to remind both of you who you belong to was a much more satisfying game to play.

"Alright." Hannibal said, accepting your validation with his thick, Danish accent. "Show me."

"I- what?" You asked, being taken aback completely by surprise. His eyes were dark with thoughts you had grown to be all too familiar with from him. Despite clearly understanding his interpretation of the words, you still stood frozen at the door, waiting. There was something about this that wasn't going to be as sweet as the usual slow and sensual intimacy you'd had with your husband and you knew this fact.

Just then, as if taking your hesitance as permission, he stands and walks over to you, the height difference ever so apparent now that you were face to face. His gelled hair was now starting to come undone, as was yours, as he held your gaze. His hand came up to tuck your hair behind your ear and then trailed to your neck, your collarbone, your breast. He then allowed his hand to go further, down to your waist and then pulled you into him, holding you there as gently but firm as one could be. He was watching your face as he did so, never breaking eye contact even once.

Your breath hitched in your throat. A growing warmth developed in your midsection as your husband had you entranced with his every move. He was enjoying this, enjoying you, enjoying the situation he put you in. He had turned on his more sadistic side and it was becoming evident with the way he progressed down your body, replacing his hands with kisses and moving towards your thighs then back up, as if with haste, towards your mouth. You felt as though you were going to faint right then and there.

He suddenly stops his kisses and then goes to finish unbuttoning his shirt. His wide frame was revealed with every unfastened button popping off, slowly but surely. Every inch of his skin had been crafted to the likes of the gods, it was as if he were one of them himself. No imperfections in his skin as far as the eye could see. He was beautiful. He was the divine definition of beauty itself.

He swiftly moved his hands to your throat, fingers following suit as he held you there, against the bedroom wall, a juxtaposition to his masterfully divine beauty of feigned innocence. His breath was hot but not unpleasant as he whispered into the nape of your neck:

"You belong to me."

And that was all it took for you to fold entirely, becoming a puppet to his every command, desires of the flesh being the only thing on both your minds. You needed him and he needed you to need him. He wanted a full surrender, a full understanding that he was the only man you'd ever be able to fulfill these lustrous fantasies with.

"Do you understand?" He asked, not giving you a second to think any further before he moved you from the wall and to the bed, where he towered over you.

"Y-yes." You said, waiting to see what he would do next.

"Good. Now take it."

Confused, you looked up at him but he had already had other plans, flipping you into your stomach and forcing himself inside you, under your dress. The instant burn that you felt was replaced by immediate satisfaction as you saw stars. Through this position you could feel him inside you, hot and intense, pushing deeper and deeper until he bottomed out. He dug into you until he was all you could feel, hear, taste, see. He was owning every inch of your skin and forcing you to feel it.

And you loved it.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked, anger laced in his voice.

"You." You tried your best to get out with the intense feeling between your thighs but it was next to impossible.

"What was that?" He asked once more, forcing you to say it louder.

Just as you were about to respond, he picks you up and turns you around to face him, taking in his expression. You were on your knees looking up at him, tears in your eyes at the intensity of what had just happened. Your dress was definitely ruined by this point but you couldn't care less.

"You." You said, waiting for him to say something, anything at all. He placed his finger on your lips and smiled down at you while he toyed with them. He then put himself inside of your mouth, your jaws stretching to be able to take him.

"Good." He said, quickening his original pace as he sighed with content. You allowed him to finish before the two of you fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and bedsheets.

He was holding you in his arms now, making sure you were alright as he kissed the top of your head and face, looking at the marks he'd left on your skin. He'd make sure those were more visible the next time someone tried to intrude on your guys' company. Especially on a pity invite.

He'd also make sure not to let Chilton off with a warning next time, making sure to purposely set his entire body on fire, not just his hand.

But you were asleep soundly in his arms, full of him and he had won.

...

A/N : Hello! This is my first time writing smut kinda so I hope this is up to par with some other fanfic writers. I really hope this fulfills your request! Lmk if anyone has any other requests, my ask box is open! 🫶

Tangerine’s face when Lemon said he wanted a bubble tea >>>

Dating Tyler Durden Would Include....

Requested by the very lovely @hyuugasmary

Part two!!

⚠️ Warnings: sexual innuendos, mentions of blood I think? ⚠️

So, you've found a way to get the most wanted man in the world to be your boyfriend. Him being wanted because of how gorgeous he is, but also wanted for the crimes he's committed. This should be fun.

Tyler has the largest infatuation with you. With the way your hair falls over your eyes or how your skin glows when you're out in the sun working in the garden- that type of stuff. He swears that your eyes were more gorgeous than any bar of soap he's blown something up with, even though he most likely wouldn't admit that to anyone but himself. Again, he knows where his priorities lie, but he's one to care more for the intimacy of language.

Many would say this is Tyler's "first life" meaning that he was not an old soul. This would make him overenthusiastic about everything and someone who contains a lot of excitement. This carried over to you, of course whom he finds to be the most exciting thing of all.

When Tyler walked downstairs from his room in the Paper Street house, all eyes fell on him to see what their leader would say. With his oddly printed shirts and wacky pairs of pants, he seemed almost out of place with how grimy and cluttered the rest of the house was. However, there was also a part of him that looked too perfect in this setting. The first time he walked downstairs and heard you yelling insults at his Space Monkeys, he felt his heart beat faster with the admiration he felt towards you.

Your boyfriend is very committed to his cause, as you probably know already. He's willing to do the most ridiculous acts just to show his contribution to the chaos and that's just what he decides to. So when he was in the bathroom ready to shave all the hair off his head, you joined him instead of being surprised he was going for the change. You helped him shave his head and then you asked him to shave yours. Tyler thought it was very badass of you to do that for him and Project Mayhem and he likes to remind you of how sexy it was on the daily.

If you rub Tyler the right way by doing everything in your power to love and care for him and to keep him happy throughout his sadistic tendencies, he might just appoint you to the leader of the Demolitions Committee. If this happens, Tyler trusts you more than anyone else- including himself.

He struggles with insomnia. As the stories go, he was raised in a mental institution and doesn't sleep for weeks on end. Only a part of this is true as you know your boyfriend can go a day or two without any shut-eye. Most of the time the only way he'll truly fall asleep is when he has you in his arms or by his side; listening to your breathing and feeling your fingertips graze the soft but calloused skin on his palms. He wants to know that you're safe at all times.

Tyler doesn't usually talk about his emotions when it comes to his insecurities. Insecurities that you might leave him after finding out about everything he's done or insecurities about not being good enough for you. Mind you, Tyler's confidence is very high but he wants to make sure that your relationship is a two-way street. You do so much for him and he wants to make sure you know he'll reciprocate that. You're usually able to pry these negative thoughts out of him once you're alone together up in his room or cleaning up after a fight in the basement of Lou's Tavern.

This can lead to some minor issues between the two of you if he plays off his insecurities. It can become small arguments but everything is usually fixed after make-up sex.

Sometimes, you have a habit of picking up each other's movements and catchphrases. You tend to find yourself leaning confidently against doorframes or with your hands up above your head, holding onto a part of the ceiling. You also picked up some of his phrases such as "The things you own end up owning you," or, "After a long enough timeline the survival rate for everyone drops to zero."

He picks up your favorite sayings and even starts to smile more since that's a very you thing. Being around someone who appreciates him and his psyche means the world to him and allows him to start showing more fondness for life.

It takes you a while to get used to your new place when living with Tyler, since the water wasn't always clean or the electricity didn't always work. You usually make the best of it but sometimes it's frustrating when your hair (or what's left of it) becomes really greasy. Tyler kinda picks on you for not adapting right away but hey, you did lose a lot of versatile solutions to modern living.

Tyler enjoys date nights. He won't do anything crazy, so don't expect extravagant restaurants or shiny new jewelry. Instead, be excited over a late night drive to look at the stars or listening to records you stole. You know how he has his whole "down with capitalism" rant so usually you two stick to something that doesn't require contributing to that.

Bonus!

Exchanging glances with Tyler while he's giving his speeches on total destruction and absolute chaos. He'll even wink at you in front of the other Space Monkeys.

Trying to fix some of the pipes in the basement with him. His shirt is off and he's sweating everywhere while he duct tapes the openings closed and oh god do I need to continue?

Tyler allows you to hang up the licenses you collect from people like Raymond K. Hessel. You like to put them in the door to your bedroom in a decorative way, all of their names and faces on display.

Going on flights with Tyler to set up new clubs. He's usually the one by the window seat and you're the one flipping through the manual, drawing flames and terrified faces on the diagrams with the paint markers you keep handy.

Wearing your boyfriend's infamous red sunglasses?!

If you're a non-smoker Tyler would do his best not to smoke in front of you due to your distaste for the drug. However, if you do smoke- expect sharing cigarettes. He'll light one and walk around the house with it dangling between his lips, only for you to take a long drag from it when he's least expectant of it.

A/N: I hope this is okay! Thank you for requesting<3

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