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readerthatreadsss · 1 year

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Requesting more dom!peter 😮‍💨🥵

𝗔/N: Your request is my command! (especially since I've been searching for more dom!Peter fics myself and have been failing so I might as well do it my damn self!) Also, yeah, it's been a damn long time lmao. I planned to finish up and release this like 4 months ago. Then a whole bunch of bad shit happened and I kinda gave up on writing for a little bit (outside of school cause I need that damn Bachelor's degree) BUT I've slowly started reading again and that bled into me opening up my drafts and finding this and spending some time with it. If you couldn't tell I had a shit ton of fun with this one...so feel free to check my newly updated Masterlist and request guidelines and send me more requests! The more I get, the more I'm gonna force myself to actually write them. (If you already sent one just know I’m working on it I promise)

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗧𝗮𝘀𝗺!𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

(heavily inspired by the song with the same title by Adele.) It came up in my shuffle and when I started listening to the lyrics it was just too perfect.

he's so fucking pretty aghhhh (gif not mine)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tasm!Peter Parker x Vigilante!Fem reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.6k+ (This is my big comeback so I might as well feed yall)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: You and Peter have been broken up for about 3 years, but when an impromptu visit to your apartment takes a turn...that may no longer be the case...

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 (𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜): SMUT!, lil bit of angst at the end (ex to lovers so ofc), minimal use of y/n, P*rn-with-plot, Reader and Peter are FERAL for each other because of their powers (enhanced senses and all that), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), a lil possessive Peter, oral (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, Peter using his webs to restrain reader (pre-consented ofc), dom!Peter, sub!Reader (bratty at first tho), pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, angel), choking, rough sex, brief spanking, other positions, creampie, etc...

The remaining sunlight of the evening bled through your wide studio apartment windows as you finished folding what was left of your newly washed laundry. The plan for the rest of the evening was simple;

Drink two bottles of wine (knowing that your enhanced metabolism would sober the effects), catch up on a few missing assignments to keep your NYU professors off your ass, then jump into your suit and go patrolling.

It was a familiar routine.

Or at least, it had been...since he left.

Your relationship with him ended during your first year of college. To say it hurt like hell would be an immense understatement.

What hurt the most was the fact that you both gave everything you had to make it work...but long distance can be a bitch.

On that warm Saturday night in May, your ex-boyfriend received a call informing him that he had been accepted into a very prestigious engineering program (with a full-ride scholarship attached) all the way in California.

You applied for the very same program, so you knew just how big of an opportunity it would be. And, in good faith, you pushed him to take the offer.

You both insisted, "we'll make it work," and "we'll video chat and text every day. It'll be fine!"

What a load of horseshit.

It took 6 months for you to both arrive at the conclusion that you couldn't juggle your individual academic loads, your nighttime hero personas, AND a long-distance relationship all at the same time. A three-hour time difference didn't help matters either.

It took a while, but you eventually moved on. You kept your grades up, went on a few dates here and there, and even managed to convince yourself that you were doing fine without him.

Until...

*knock knock knock*

Your head peeked out from the fridge to look where you heard the strong yet hesitant knocks on your front door.

Only a handful of people knew where you lived and you weren't expecting to see any of them today.

Assuming it would be a postal worker or someone along those lines, you swung open the door with a polite smile.

"Hi-"

You felt your voice die in your throat as you locked eyes with the deep brown ones you hadn't seen in three years.

"Peter," his name fell from your lips, barely audible.

"Hi, Y/N," he replied with that awkward grin you knew all too well.

His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him, but from the tight fit of his jacket, you could see that was about the only thing about him that shrunk.

You wanted to actually hit yourself in the head for actually imagining yourself doing many things to his large...meaty...biceps- NO, no, no, no get a grip! a voice of logic sounded in your mind.

You hadn't realized how long you stood there silently sizing him up until he spoke again. "Can I...uh...come in, maybe?"

"Umm...sure," you nervously answered, finally taking note of the small cardboard box he was holding.

As you stepped aside to allow him entrance into your apartment, his familiar scent invaded your sensitive senses.

"Oh God," you muttered under your breath, knowing that he heard you, yet unaware that your scent had basically the same effect on him as well.

"You alright?" he turned and asked you in concern trying to hide the tightening of his jeans with the box he brought.

You nodded way too fast, promptly putting some distance between yourself and him. He hadn't been there for longer than 5 seconds and he was already having an effect on you.

"How've you been?" he questioned you, scratching his neck and actively avoiding eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, he was currently repeating every physics law he could remember in his mind to try to quell his growing erection.

It wasn't working very well.

"I've been fine. You?" you quickly spoke, slightly out of breath.

"I-uh-I'm alright," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.

He soon found himself just looking at you. It wasn't a blank stare, no, it was the sort of intense look you unintentionally gave someone when trying to commit every single feature to memory as if you weren't certain when you'd get another chance to.

It was a habit of his you noticed a lot when you were dating. And just as it did back then, it sent chills running rampant down your spine. Not to mention your nipples growing obviously hard behind your large shirt with no bra to hide it.

Peter noticed it immediately and fought back a smile, which you glimpsed.

"Why are you here, Peter?" you decided to get down to business before your body betrays you any further.

The brunette let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before actually coming up with an answer. "I wanted to drop these off," he placed the small box on your kitchen counter.

Your eyes immediately narrowed. "You could have mailed it. Or you could've just dropped it at the door and then left. So why are you really here Peter?" you would have felt worse about your tone if you weren't so bothered.

Why the hell did he feel the need to suddenly show up and make you start feeling things you swore you wouldn't feel for him again?

Peter took a deep breath. "Aunt May called me last week. She's not doing too good. So, I came back to help take care of her."

You felt your stomach sink at his words. While you both dated, May grew to be like a second mother to you. You had no idea she was sick.

"Oh shit Peter-I'm so sorry," you crossed the room to engulf him in a hug, despite your initial reaction to his visit.

Peter immediately accepted your hug and found the anxiety in his body dissipating soon after. Your hugs tended to have that effect on him.

He couldn't stop himself from deeply inhaling and drawing in your hair's familiar scent when he wrapped his hands around your clothed waist.

A few seconds passed before you released each other, with you also savoring the feel of his body against you and the way how your skin lit up with goosebumps though there was a thin layer of clothing separating his hands from you.

"I was just cleaning up my old room at May's and I found some of your stuff so I figured I'd drop by and..."

You nodded in understanding and walked over to where he placed the box.

It was mostly filled with old t-shirts, tools, and gadgets from days when you would sleep over at Peter's or stop by to help each other with school projects.

"Thanks," you sent him a smile as you closed the box.

Your smile warmed Peter's heart. It was actually his second favorite thing about you, after your hugs of course. "Yeah, you're welcome," he smiled back, running his hand through his hair. It was a mess by now, but you still wanted to run your hands through it…or maybe even pull on it-

"Sorting through some of this stuff made me realize how much I...missed you," he said, his tone growing more assured.

Thankfully, you were still facing away from him, not giving him the chance to catch the pained expression that briefly crossed your face.

But you could feel him slowly approaching your frozen figure and found your body silently reacting in ways it shouldn't be, yet again. "Do you miss me?" he asked, his voice heavy.

You held back the urge to scream "Yes!" because admitting that out loud would be taking 3 steps backward.

Admitting that you missed him would be undoing all the work and tears you put into moving on from him and the hopes and dreams you had for a life with him.

Admitting that you missed him would mean giving in to the part of you that thought back to your most intimate moments with him when you touched yourself.

And admitting that you missed him would mean letting him back into the four-cornered box you had locked yourself in for the past 3 years.

But, with every step closer that he took, your resolve disappeared that much faster.

"You okay?" he called for your attention.

Your sharp intake of oxygen brought a tense silence over the room when you turned to face him and realized that he stood close enough for your lips to nearly brush his.

"Peter, I-" you tried to form words, but then you saw his lust-filled brown eyes lower to your lips.

And that was all it took for the last of your self-control to disappear.

"Damn it," you mumbled once you realized what was about to happen.

Before Peter could question your outburst, you found yourself latching onto his jacket lapels and pulling him down to meet your lips.

It took mere milliseconds for Peter to react. After all, he had been thinking about doing this since you swung open the door and looked up at him with those eyes of yours.

His large calloused hands took hold of the sides of your face as you clashed in a heap of teeth and tongue. It was desperate and feverish but it was perfect.

It was a language only you and Peter seemed to master, even now after three years apart.

Your lips moved swiftly against his, eager to taste more and more of him with each passing second. You felt him press his growing bulge flush against you, causing a pathetic whine to involuntarily tumble from your lips and a smirk to find its way onto his.

"I did miss you," you softly spoke, "but we can't do this Peter," the logical part of your brain made an appearance, though you kept peppering his lips with kisses.

As his lips moved to your neck, Peter's hands slid down to your ass where he effortlessly lifted your legs off the ground and up around his waist. The feeling of his hands against the bare skin of your thighs garnered yet another moan from you.

"You don't sound so sure angel," you felt him smirk against your heated skin.

You hadn’t heard that nickname in years yet it sent small chills down your spine for the second time that night.

A mumbled curse slipped your lips when he nipped a particular spot below your ear. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.

You soon gathered the strength to pull Peter's hungry lips away from your body, swinging your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.

"We can’t go back from this, you know that right?" you spoke, the both of you panting from the effects of the last minute.

"I don't wanna go back," Peter shook his head, "I wanna fuck you, right here, right now," his lips immediately found yours before his words could fully resonate.

This caught you by surprise which allowed Peter to slip his tongue between your lips.

As his taste continued to flood your senses, you felt yourself grow alarmingly wet.

Peter knew it too because he slowly pulled back and smirked down at you. "I could smell you from the moment I walked in here. Glad to see three years hasn't changed the way your body reacts to me, angel," he accompanied his words with a quick slap to your ass.

His slap and the familiar pet name left you a moaning mess. Just like he knew it would.

A lovely laugh left Peter's mouth before his lips met yours again.

He walked your entangled bodies over to the kitchen counter without breaking the sloppy kiss.

Peter used one hand to blindly clear the counter and place you on it, which sent your box of things flying toward the floor.

Not that either of you cared.

"Too much clothes," you were barely able to say in between kisses.

You followed up by shoving Peter's jacket off his shoulders which fell to your hardwood floors with a thud. He immediately got the message and got rid of his t-shirt as well.

A shameless whimper left your lips at the sight of his very toned muscles. You easily maneuvered Peter's body closer to you and began kissing and sucking his neck and every other available inch of skin just as you had pictured earlier, making sure to leave a few purple bruises in your wake.

“You’re killing me here baby,” Peter harshly swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as you continued to have your way with his chest.

"Wouldn't be a terrible way to die though, right?" you mumbled between lovebites and licks. You felt like an animal in heat but you just couldn't get enough of him, the occasional flex of his muscles with each slither of your tongue and his deep groans only egging you on more.

The taste of his skin alone could've made you cum easily.

But the same could be said for Peter as the feel of your tongue slithering all along his chest had him practically creaming his pants then and there.

Fucking enhanced senses, he cursed inwardly.

“Alright, ease up pretty girl,” he reluctantly grabbed your head, detaching your swollen lips from his body.

“Your turn,” he tugged at the hem of your top.

You quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare top half to him.

He spared no time in cupping your breasts with his eager hands. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbled.

"Me, or my boobs?" you jokingly raised a brow at him.

"Definitely both," he grinned, bringing his mouth down to your tits.

As his tongue made contact with the soft mounds, you loudly moaned and wrapped your fingers in his unruly tangle of hair.

He switched between nipping and sucking on your nipples, in the way he knew you liked, while his free hand pinched and squeezed the other.

"Just like that Peter fuck-" hearing his name fall from your lips drove Peter insane.

His tongue flicked your sensitive nipples harder, and his eager sucking pleased you to no end.

Peter eventually pried himself away from your supple breasts, remembering the other parts of you he wanted to worship, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of your head. Your lips connected once more in a delicate kiss.

Though you knew what lay ahead for the evening, you were both perfectly content with each other's lips at the moment, just enjoying the constant waves of pleasure from the intimate contact.

But it wasn't long before the kiss grew heated and you tried to take control. Peter, however, wasn't giving you a chance.

"I leave for three years and you think you're hot shit, huh," he smirked.

"Why don't you ask the guy I fucked on this counter last week," you retorted, knowingly riling him up.

"Don't say shit like that, it's not funny," he nearly growled as his grip on your ass grew more forceful.

You secured your grip on his hair before pressing a small kiss on the side of his lips. "Gimme a reason to shut up then," you challenged him.

“Trust me, I will,” Peter grabbed your hands from his hair and forced them to your sides. His movements were swift as he laid you flat on your counter and ripped your thong off your body.

There he is, you smiled to yourself. This is the Peter you wanted to fucking ruin you.

You felt his face ghost your drenched opening as he deeply inhaled your scent. "You smell fucking delicious baby," he praised you, his mouth actually watering at the thought of tasting you.

A genuine smile found its way onto your face but morphed into a gasp when Peter teasingly ran his tongue up your sensitive slit.

"You taste even better," he added, using his strong arms to bring your thighs closer to his head. He wanted to tease you but it was getting harder to resist the urge to dive right into your heat like a man starved.

"Holy shit," you all but screamed as he briefly nipped at your swollen clit before sucking on it to soothe the sting.

His grip on your thighs combined with the ministrations of his tongue was pure bliss.

You attempted to slip your hands in his hair once more, but found that they were suddenly held in place against your counter by two of his webs.

Your eyes briefly widened at the feel of the rough, sticky material against your wrists, not having felt it in a few years. Back then, you expressed to Peter your desire to engage in some bondage, but being the daughter of a super soldier, it was clear that no rope or wire would be able to hold you. Peter's webs became the next best choice.

"That's not fair," you pouted, though it melded into a moan as Peter continued to suck and lick between your glistening folds.

The sounds of Peter devouring you resounded through the small apartment.

"I'm close Pete," you whined, your chest heaving in arousal.

Peter decided to focus his tongue on your eager bundle of nerves while he slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy. He instantly curled the digits causing you to briefly squirm at the sudden pressure against your G-spot.

"More," you begged, and Peter delivered, adding another finger inside of you. He immediately sped up his motion inside of you, making sure his fingers gauged that spongy spot to drive you over the edge with each thrust inside of you.

“That feels so fucking good, Peter, oh my God," you loudly moaned at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, calling forth an orgasm with no warning.

You repeatedly bucked against Peter's face as you came, white-hot pleasure filling your veins. Peter locked onto your stare, still skillfully working his fingers in and out of you, loving the way you constantly clenched around his fingers.

"Jesus fucking Christ," your legs jerked when Peter dove in and drank every ounce of slick you had to give while still fucking you with his fingers.

With his face now damp of your juices, Peter looked up to meet your blissed-out eyes. "Gimme one more, angel," he placed a soft kiss on your thighs, "I know you can do it for me."

You would do anything to keep Peter's mouth between your legs.

So, you eagerly nodded in response before taking a deep breath in preparation for another onslaught.

You didn't have to wait long.

Peter’s tongue went to work on your glistening hole while his fingers fiddled with your overstimulated clit. And, within minutes, your thighs were trapping Peter's head as an even bigger orgasm rocked you again, the borderline pornographic sounds leaving your lips shooting straight to his hardened cock.

Peter seemed perfectly fine with staying between your legs all night, but you had other plans.

"Pete, I need you inside me," you begged, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes.

He rose from beneath you and climbed up to free your hands from his webs. "I know, baby, I know," he softly replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and using his hands to soothe your reddened wrists. Your own taste on his tongue flooded your senses which made you even more desperate.

Peter obliged, slipping out of his sweatpants and sliding his girth between your folds. He used one hand to hold himself up above you on the counter, and the other to slowly guide his dick into you.

You both shared a long moan as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, your wetness making it way too easy.

He held still for a few seconds, waiting for you to adjust and give the all clear for him to move.

Eagerness guided your words. “Fuck me, please.”

Peter set a brutal pace, knowing you were more than capable of handling it. Satisfied cries left your chest as you dragged your nails along Peter’s back, hard enough to leave trails.

“You can take it, pretty girl, I know you can,” he groaned as he continued to pound into you, trying desperately not to blow his load with the way you were constantly clenching around him and marking his back.

You tried to reply, but all that you could form were sloppy moans and broken syllables.

“Oh look at you, drunk on my cock already?” he teased with a particularly hard slam that prodded your cervix, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Pleasure-filled cries mingled with words continued to fall from your lips as Peter gently moved a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear with a hand. "-feels so fucking perfect," you muttered, your lips curved into a drunken smile.

Peter reached down and pinched one of your nipples, gaining a loud whimper from you. “I love hearing you make those pretty sounds for me baby,” his strokes grew harder and deeper.

“All for you, Pete, all for you,” you panted as he fucked into you, the delicious smell and sound of sex lingering in the air.

Peter used a hand to wrap around your throat before using the other to reach down and fiddle with your aching clit.

The combination of Peter’s dick hitting that perfect spot, his fingers massaging your clit, and the lack of air from his hand around your neck was making you dizzy and overstimulated.

You fucking loved it.

“God, I missed you,” you spoke breathlessly.

He moved closer to kiss you briefly and tenderly. “I missed you too, baby.”

No amount of time could take away his knowledge on how to please you, how to get you like this with ease, not when you were all he thought about for years on end.

Peter pressed a quick kiss to your forehead then continued to fuck you on your kitchen counter.

"I'm gonna cum again baby, right fucking there," you moaned out.

Peter's grip on your neck grew tighter. "Not yet, don't you cum until I tell you to sweetheart," he commanded you, removing his fingers from your clit.

A frustrated groan rumbled in your chest as you forced yourself to sustain your orgasm.

"Don't pout," he smirked.

And before you could realize it, Peter had pulled out of you and effortlessly flipped you onto your stomach.

A hand soon gripped your hair, yanking you up against his chest and eliciting a pitiful whine from you.

"Tell me what you want,” Peter commanded, using his free hand to strike your ass. Hard.

You whimpered again at the sting of his slap. “I need you inside me. Please,” you pleaded.

He seized your hair harsher and leaned forward for his lips to graze against your ears. “Beg.”

A small whine left your lips at his words. You were so desperate you didn’t even care how embarrassing this would be in retrospect. “I need to cum, Peter. Please baby you're the only one who can make me cum.”

Peter pressed a kiss to your neck, nearly causing you to lose your footing. And he soon complied by ramming himself back into you.

“Oh my Fuck-“ you cried before biting your lip, suddenly aware that you had neighbors.

But Peter pulled his cock from your heat, with just the tip remaining, before roughly slamming into you, his hips slamming against your ass with the motion. “Come on, lemme hear you angel.”

He repeated the action, knocking the air out of your chest, “Peter!” your hands gripped the sides of your counter with such force you were sure you felt it crack under your grasp.

Peter caught wind of this and freed your hair before using his hands to pull your hands behind your back. "You're so perfect baby," he mumbled in your ear, continuing to brutally fuck you from behind, "So fucking beautiful with my cock inside you."

"I can't hold it anymore," you cried, "I need to cum, Peter, please."

With that whiny tone and those overstimulated tears to top it off, Peter couldn't deny you any longer. "Let it all out for me sweetheart. Cum for me," he littered your shoulders with kisses.

Your eyes slammed shut as your walls contracted around his cock, pleasure shooting through you and rocking you on a seemingly cellular level. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, unable to form a sound from the satisfied tremors attacking your nerves. The intensity of your finish is one only brought on when Peter fucked you and it was damn near cosmic.

"Shit," you groaned in relief, your long-awaited climax passing.

Peter slowed his movements inside of you and released your hands. "You did so good for me angel," he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck, trying to stave off his own orgasm for a little while longer.

Aftershocks rocked your body while Peter continued sporadically moving inside of you, yet you couldn't get enough. Your body was more than ready to keep taking whatever he dished out.

Peter didn't need to read your mind to see that, but he needed to make sure. His lips kept up their onslaught on your neck as he softly spoke, "You wanna keep going?"

"Hell yes," you panted with a grin that he couldn't fully see, "You still haven't cum yet, and my bed is still fully made."

Happy with your response, Peter gave your ass a sharp smack. "That's my girl."

He pulled out of you and turned your body to face him, smiling at the sight of your fucked out face. "Three orgasms and a handful of tears later and you're still the most beautiful girl in the world," he held you by the sides of your face.

His words left you reeling, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks and butterflies to swirl within your stomach.

Before you could form a response, Peter leaned down to kiss you. He soon hoisted up your legs around his waist, preparing to escort you to your bed as per your own demands.

As he looked around for the bed's location, you took advantage of his momentary distraction and latched your lips onto his neck, reapplying the bruises you left there that were slowly fading already.

Peter was the happiest man on earth as he walked over to your bed, his cock prodding your soaked entrance, and your lips ravaging his neck.

He carefully sat on the edge of your bed, with you now on his lap and your legs still around him. You expected him to ease his length back into you but he slowly brought your head down to meet his intense stare.

You carefully wrapped your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself up, the silence in the room growing deafening.

You could tell from his eyes that he desperately wanted to say something, and you wondered if it was the same thing you had been considering as well.

But you were both aware of what saying those words would mean for your broken relationship and simply settled for smiles instead.

Peter brought a hand up to lay your forehead against his, allowing your breathing to momentarily sync.

"You ready for me?" he questioned you with a hand at the nape of your neck to hold your head against his.

You immediately nodded in response causing his own head to shake in time with yours. A small laugh was shared between you both as your nose continued to brush his own.

"You're adorable," you said before you could stop yourself.

That stupid full-toothed grin that you hadn't seen in a while soon spread across his beautiful face at your words, gaining another laugh from you.

"Last round?” you eventually pleaded with a smile.

"Anything for you," Peter replied, meaning it in every way. Adoration littered his stare as he slowly lowered you onto his length.

A satisfied mewl slipped your lips at the familiar feel of him.

The slow drag of his cock in and out of you, while he rocked your hips back and forth to grind on him, had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth with eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure.

But Peter wanted to see it all. He wrapped a hand around your neck and forced you to meet his dilated eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

His soft yet stern tone caused you to swallow back a moan as you continued to move on his girth.

He then slapped your ass with his free hand, silently urging you to move faster.

You leaned down and quickly kissed his lips before happily obliging, now beginning to bounce in his lap, chasing your next climax.

“There you go angel, just like that,” Peter’s stare never wavered.

Peter furiously fucked up into you, your moans and the constant smack of skin on skin filling the apartment.

His other hand which never left your throat now squeezed it harder. “Fuck!” You were barely able to moan out as your breasts bounced with your every move.

“Shit, you’re gripping me like a vice,” Peter groaned, his crude pace never faltering though his orgasm was closer than ever.

Your bed creaked under the onslaught of your bodies, but neither of you payed it any attention only having one goal in mind.

“One more time,” Peter planted his feet on the ground to get a better angle, "Need you to cum on my cock one more time."

But from the broken pacing of his hips to the strong furrow of his brow, you could tell he was close too. “Together?” You breathlessly suggested, grasping the nape of his neck with your hands.

Peter nodded in agreement before engulfing your chest and back with his arms, pulling you closer to his body.

Your breaths mingled, eyes focused on nothing except each other as his grip on your upper body allowed him to help you ride him even faster.

"Yes, Pete, oh my God-" pleas, curses, and moans tumbled from your lips as your skin buzzed at your incoming release.

"There you go, cum for me," Peter's voice grew strangled as his hips stuttered below you.

"Fuck," you wailed, your finish hitting you like a freight train and your pussy leaking into Peter's length.

The intense clench of your walls around him was all it took for Peter to explode with a groan, his pace faltering with that final pump.

"Holy shit baby," he panted, his cum painting your walls in spurts.

His firm hold on your body brought you collapsing on your bed together, satisfied and smiling.

And, for what felt like hours, you lay there in his arms. But of course, your thoughts began to run rampant.

Peter could damn near hear your thoughts spiraling.

"I don't regret this," he suddenly broke the silence you had elapsed into, "Do you?"

"Peter I-...I don't know," you freed yourself from his hold and sat up to look at him.

His brows furrowed at your response, hurt briefly flashing across his features.

"I loved you," you spoke, "I loved you more than anything."

"I know. I loved you too," Peter nodded with a small smile.

"And I will never blame you for leaving. Ever," you slipped a hand in his own and squeezed briefly.

"But?"

Your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. "What happened to us, it damn near destroyed me, Peter. And it took so so long to put myself back together."

Peter swallowed harshly at your words.

"And then here you come, waltzing in here, fucking my brains out and making me feel things," you lowered your head, looking away from him.

You heard Peter move closer to you before feeling him lift your chin to face him again. His expression wasn't as disappointed as you'd expected, just confused. "Spit it out. I know you're holding something back."

"Why'd you come back here and-and do all this? Reminding me of what we had when you know you're gonna be gone again in the next few weeks?" you felt your voice shrink to a broken whisper.

Peter used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that fell from your eye, his previously puzzled look now morphing into a smirk. There was obviously something he wasn't telling you.

You sniffled and lightly hit Peter's shoulder. "Well, now it's your turn bug face, spit out whatever you're hiding!"

You received no answer other than Peter leaning forward and pressing a deep kiss against your lips. You eagerly accepted and returned the spontaneous action but were left even more confused when he pulled away.

"That wasn't an answer," you arched a brow at Peter.

"I'm not going anywhere," he smiled.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm moving back to New York, or already moved, technically," he began to explain.

Your mouth opened and closed in shock as your brain fumbled for a response and came up inconclusive.

"I'm gonna finish out the school year online and stay here to take care of Aunt May. I mean it, baby, I'm not going anywhere," he grinned, watching tears of joy fall from your eyes.

"This better not be some sick fucking joke Peter, I swear to God," you pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"Can you shut up and just come here?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you obliged and grabbed Peter's neck before pulling him in for another kiss, your face still wet from tears and a smile almost permanently etched onto your face.

You pulled away but sank into his open arms. You relished how securely he held you. "I'm so happy," you said aloud, truly meaning it for the first time in a long time, though it was only meant to be an inner thought.

Peter kissed your forehead and looked down to meet your eyes, "I'll never stop making you happy, Y/N."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

#tasm peter parker #peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter smut #tasm!spiderman x you #tasm!peter x y/n #andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield #marvel smut #smut #oneshot #welcome back #tasm!peter parker smut

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goldfades · 4 months

Text

𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎 /𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐈'𝐃 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 -- / 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝟑𝟎𝟎𝟓 ─ AF³⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | requested -> "wait i love ur fics!! can i request a one shot of azzi (aka sweet angel whose never done anything wrong in her life) and loud & chaotic!reader who were childhood friends and now have the cutest relationship ever?? like a huge opposites attract thingy where reader is a cheerleader and that popular kid, and brings azzi out of her shell? and maybe the team is a bit suspicious at first but just falls in love with their relationship really quickly"

─ warnings | nothing but sweet, good old fluff!!! literally so adorable, my fav thing i've written in a while. my fav trope! oblivious best friends to obnoxious lovers!! the girls being a little skeptical but slowly also falling in love w/ r because she brings out the best in az, mention of a confession but literally nothing else

─ word count | 1.8k

─ ev's notes | i love my azzi baby and she needs more love!!!!! fuck EVERYBODY who doesn't like her cause babygirl is so unproblematic, she's literally an angel and the heart of uconn so FUCK OFF anyways. also i love all my azzi girls sm i had to feed them too, mwah!!!!!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

THERE HAD NEVER been a time when Azzi wasn't by your side.

Since the day you'd met her back in the sixth grade, she was always by your side. There was never a day where you questioned her loyalty or her friendship. Through the ups and downs of adolescence, through the awkwardness of high school, and into the uncertainties of young adulthood, Azzi remained a constant presence in your life.

She always admired everything about you ─ there was never a moment where she was annoyed by your extrovertness or how much you liked to talk, she actually enjoyed it. Azzi was never much of a talker, she was more of a listener so she liked to let you take the lead in conversations, always content to listen to your stories, your dreams, and your worries. She found solace in the rhythm of your voice, in the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about something you loved.

While you were the outgoing one, always ready to dive headfirst into any adventure, Azzi was the steady presence by your side, offering quiet wisdom and unwavering support. She may not have been the loudest voice in the room, but her presence spoke volumes, grounding you when you felt like you were spinning out of control.

Azzi's strength wasn't just in her ability to be a steadfast companion; it was also in her capacity for understanding. She had a way of seeing beyond the surface, of understanding the complexities of your emotions even when you couldn't understand them yourself.

In her own quiet way, Azzi was the glue that held your relationship together. She didn't need grand gestures or flashy displays of affection to show how much she cared; her loyalty and devotion spoke for themselves.

"Az!" You shouted as you practically threw yourself into her arms. She laughed as she held you close to her chest, her arms wrapping around your body.

As you nestled into Azzi's embrace, you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth and happiness flood through you. Her laughter was like music to your ears, a melody that resonated deep within your soul.

It was finally summer and that meant it was her favorite time of year ─ spending every second with you. This was the second year you'd been separated because of college, so it wasn't entirely foreign but this year was a little harder than the last. She found herself missing you and thinking about you all the damn time, literally.

You could think of a couple reasons as to why, and one of them is because you'd both had confronted your long-time feelings for each other.

You both had danced around your feelings for each other for far too long, tiptoeing around the truth out of fear of ruining the beautiful friendship you shared. But as time went on, the pull between you grew stronger, until it became impossible to ignore.

The moment of truth came during a late-night conversation at your family's beach house, where words tumbled out in a rush of honesty and vulnerability. Azzi confessed her feelings for you, her heart laid bare for you to see. And to her relief and delight, you felt the same way. It felt like it was out of a movie; everything was perfect, Childish Gambino was playing through the speaker, the air felt just right and the waves whispered secrets in the background.

You pulled out of the hug with a grin as Azzi laughed again, putting her hands on your shoulders. "Damn, you're still short."

"Oh my god, we're still on this?" You let out a sigh, despite the sweet smile on your face. You've known each other since you were kids and still, her favorite thing to tease you about was your height.

And it wasn't even that you were abnormally short ─ she was just tall.

"What! I thought you woulda grown, sorry!" Azzi teased as you grumbled, rolling your eyes playfully.

"Well, you know what they say, good things come in small packages," you retorted with a smirk, earning another laugh from Azzi.

Azzi chuckled, giving you a playful shove. "Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, shorty."

Before you could respond, Azzi's name was being called from behind her. Azzi turned around to wave toward the group of girls, her teammates and friends from UConn. You'd met them one time before and that was at one of the championship games last year, and meeting them was a stretch ─ you'd waved at them.

As Azzi turned to greet her teammates, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness flutter in your stomach. You remembered the last time you had met them, feeling like a fish out of water among a group of award-winning athletes and accomplished individuals.

"I'm right here, guys," Azzi sighed as her friends walked toward her. "Y/N, this is Aubrey, Aaliyah and Nika. Oh, and Paige,"

Paige sent her a glare toward Azzi but before she could retort, Nika nudged her and smiled politely at you.

"Hi," you smiled as you looked up at Azzi for reassurance. She gave a warm smile as she pulled you closer to her side, squeezing you. "I'm Y/N,"

Azzi had never seen you so nervous, it was almost endearing to see. You'd always been the outgoing one, but in this moment, you seemed almost shy and uncertain. It was a side of you that Azzi hadn't seen often, and it made her heart swell with affection.

"You're even prettier in person," Nika spoke as she smiled. The girls all exchanged glances as Nika realized what she had just said, laughing. "What! I mean, we had to stalk Azzi's girl before we met her, it's just part of the process-"

"My god, Nika," Paige laughed as Azzi squeezed your shoulder.

You blushed under their gazes, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and flattery at Nika's comment. Azzi's gentle squeeze on your shoulder offered reassurance, grounding you in the moment.

"Thanks, you guys too. I'm a stalker too, don't worry. I'm practically your guys' biggest fan," you joked, trying to lighten the mood with a touch of self-deprecation. The tension eased as the group laughed, and you felt a sense of relief wash over you.

Aubrey grinned. "Well, I guess we're all in good company then."

Aaliyah nodded. "Absolutely. It's always nice to meet a fan."

"Hey, hey. She's actually my biggest fan, cause you know, she's my girlfriend." Azzi cut in as the group laughed. You glanced up at Azzi, your heart practically jumping at the word girlfriend. You were her girlfriend, and it sounded so perfect. You gazed up at Azzi, your eyes meeting hers, and in that moment, everything felt right.

"Absolutely, I have like 20 different jerseys" you chimed in, unable to hide the fondness in your voice as you leaned into Azzi's side.

Azzi laughed as she shook her head. "She's not joking, she probably has more than me."

"I've been collecting them since high school, cause I wanted to make sure everyone knew I was her biggest fan when she makes into the WNBA," you explained, a hint of pride coloring your words. The admiration and support you felt for Azzi were palpable, evident in the way you spoke about her with such reverence and affection.

"Our reservation is for 8 and it's 7:45, we should probably get going," Nika suggested, glancing at her watch.

Azzi nodded, casting a fond glance at you. "Yeah, let's head out."

With a collective agreement, the group began to make their way toward the restaurant, chatting and laughing as they went. Azzi slipped her hand into yours, intertwining your fingers with hers as you walked side by side. With a smile, you squeezed Azzi's hand, feeling a surge of love and gratitude for the amazing woman by your side.

At the restaurant, Azzi had her arm around you as the host led the group to their table. You felt a sense of warmth and comfort in Azzi's embrace, the simple gesture serving as a reminder of the deep connection you shared.

As you settled into your seats, the buzz of conversation continued around you, filled with laughter and shared stories. Azzi leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "I'm so glad you're here with me."

You turned to her, a soft smile playing on your lips as you met her gaze. "Me too," you replied, your voice filled with sincerity.

Throughout the meal, Azzi's hand remained firmly entwined with yours, Azzi was at ease as she kept stealing glances your way, her eyes filled with adoration and affection. It was moments like these that reminded you why your bond with her was so special, why her presence in your life was irreplaceable.

Her friends could tell how absolutely whipped you both were for each other, it was obvious by the way you looked at each other.

They were all skeptical of you in the beginning, your instagram seemed too aesthetic and preppy for their taste, but as they got to know you, they realized there was much more depth to you than what your social media portrayed. You were genuine, kind-hearted, and fiercely loyal to Azzi, qualities that quickly won them over despite their initial reservations.

You brought out the laid-back, extroverted side of Azzi they rarely got to see. It was exciting to see, they loved seeing their girl happy and carefree in your presence. Your genuine affection for Azzi was evident in the way you looked at her, the way you made her laugh, and the way you supported her dreams and ambitions.

As the evening progressed, you found yourself engaged in lively conversation with Azzi's friends, sharing stories and laughter as you got to know each other better. With each passing moment, the initial skepticism faded away, replaced by genuine warmth.

And as you walked out of the restaurant next to Paige and Aubrey, the girls followed with smiles on their faces. Aaliyah pulled Azzi close as she caught her eye, a grin on her face.

"We took it up with the counsel and we approve," Aaliyah whispered as Azzi's face contorted into an amused expression.

"Bro, what do mean the counsel?" She repeated as they glanced toward the girls in front of them, who were now laughing at some joke Paige had made. "But thanks, it means a lot."

"We like her a lot," Nika chimed in, her voice filled with sincerity as she glanced back at you and Azzi walking behind them. "She's good for you, Az."

Azzi's heart swelled with affection for her friends as she wrapped an arm around Aaliyah's shoulders, pulling her into a tight side hug. "Thanks, guys. I'm really happy," she said, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "That means everything to me."

She was ecstatic that you fit into her life so perfectly (not like she ever doubted your people skills and your charm), and hearing her friends express their approval only confirmed what she already knew deep down: you were the one for her.

As you all walked together, surrounded by the laughter and warmth of her friends, Azzi couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle over her.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#azzi fudd x reader #azzi fudd #uconn wbb x reader #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #ncaa wbb #uconn women’s basketball #azzi fudd x you #uconn women's basketball #women's college basketball

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wolfjackle-creates · 2 months

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Hi!! I haven't been on Tumblr for a while but I used to read a fic you made out of a prompt (?) Someone else made about Danny who freaked out when he realized the Waynes are the Bats and accidentally shot Bruce(?) And if I'm not mistaken you made a part 2 of it (idr remember if it was a wip or finished) but do you have a masterlist so I can re-read it :D? So sorry if I sound weird (´⌒｀;)

It is absolutely never weird to ask an author about their works!!!! Thanks so much for sending this in.

It's been ages since I've worked on this one, but it's definitely on my short list to get back to. Especially since I'm pretty close to having it finished?

Here's chapter 1 on AO3. And the Subscription Post.

Chapter 2 is limited to Tumblr right now, only two parts currently. Part 1 can be found here.

Currently it's called Want to Hold on and Feel I Belong. However, when I do start updating on AO3 again, I plan to change the name. (I'm just waiting so people who have subscribed are more likely to remember what they're getting an email about.) Mostly I refer to it as my Bad Reveal AU. Though I get that's not a great working name as that's usually reserved for the Fenton parents reacting badly rather than Danny reacting badly.

Also, as a thanks for reminding me that it's been a while since I've posted anything about this fic (or, well, in general), have the next bit!

Here's a random 1.5k.

-----

Having a potential lead so close meant the hours until J’onn’s arrival were spent in prep mode.

Every uniform had to be checked for the slightest damage and upgrades done where possible. Supplies and go-bags were organized so they could leave the moment they had a lead. Fuel levels in every vehicle were checked and topped off where necessary.

And finally, the zeta tube activated and J’onn stepped out. “Good day to all of you. I heard my assistance was needed?”

Bruce went to greet him. “J’onn. Danny’s room is upstairs. Did Clark explain the situation?”

“Yes. He said that your newest ward has density shifting powers and left things behind in his walls and floor before running away a few days ago.”

Bruce nodded sharply. “Follow me. Clark will show you where the items are hidden so you can retrieve them.”

Dick happily zipped up what felt like the hundredth bag he’d had to pack and joined them. “Hey, J’onn. Welcome. How have you been?”

“Greetings, Dick. It has been a long time since our last meeting. I have been well. I want to wish you luck in finding your brother swiftly and easily.”

Dick nodded his thanks. “Same. We’re really hoping he left behind something to help because we haven’t had much luck so far.” Dick pulled out his phone and notified the family of J’onn’s arrival and requested they meet in Danny’s room.

On the way, Bruce and Dick filled J’onn in on the situation. At the implication of government experimentation, he face went hard and he vowed he would help them however he could.

Clark, Jason, and Alfred were already there when the group arrived and the rest weren’t far behind. With everyone present, the room felt crowded.

“Where should I start?” J’onn asked Clark.

“Behind the NASA poster. I think that’s where he keeps the weapons. One of them is an object that looks like it might be the same as, or at least similar to, the weapon that shot Bruce.”

Under Clark’s direction, J’onn removed not just two more energy guns, but also a glowing-green net, a boomerang, a tube of lipstick, what looked like a weird, high-tech thermos, and a wooden baseball bat with a sticker that said “Fenton” on it.

Dick couldn’t help but whistle at the pile. “Damn, he was packing all this?”

“Apparently,” said Damian. But Dick could tell his youngest brother was impressed and mentally reassessing his beliefs of Danny. “Perhaps he is not as helpless as I previously believed.”

“Why’s he got lipstick?” asked Steph as she picked up the tube.

“Don’t!” ordered Bruce even as she opened it and released a laser beam that left a small scorch mark on the ceiling.

She stared in shock before laughing. “Oh, damn! When he comes back, I’m so asking if he could get me one of these. That’s so cool!”

“Can I see that?” asked Barbara.

“Wait until we’re in the cave,” said Bruce with a sigh. Both women grinned at him.

Dick reached down and grabbed the net. Despite the color, it seemed normal enough, maybe a little smoother than most rope he’d handled. He pulled out a pocket knife and was able to slice through one of the ropes easily enough. Jason came over to look at it with him.

“Anything weird about it?” he asked as he reached out to touch it. “Huh, that’s odd.”

“What’s odd about it? Seems pretty normal to me.”

“It just… It feels weird. It almost hurts to touch.” When Dick looked at him sharply, Jason quickly added, “It doesn’t hurt, but it feels like it should. If that makes sense.”

“Feels normal to me.” Dick showed him the break he’d made.

Jason shrugged. “Dunno, then. I just get a weird feeling from it.”

Damian picked up the energy gun, Tim the thermos, and Duke the boomerang when Alfred cleared his throat.

“Before we get distracted, might I remind you that there is more to find? We can bring everything down to the cave to examine them with no more damage to Master Danny’s room.”

Everyone sheepishly put down the things they were holding. Dick bit back a laugh when he noticed Clark push the baseball bat away from himself with his foot.

“So, J’onn,” Clark said. “I think the next area of interest is behind this poster.” He gestured at a poster of the horsehead nebula. Dick had helped Danny find it and hang it up and the kid had talked about nebulae for over an hour as they did. The memory caused his eyes to burn.

From this stash, J’onn pulled some notebooks and two external hard drives, which Barbara took. Dick and Bruce both grabbed a notebook. Dick opened his to the first page.

Journaling is such a stupid idea. I don’t have any time for it but Jazz says I need to get my feelings out. Pointless. So what if I can’t sleep and Skulker attacked me again today during English getting me another detention. Its not my fault! Shit, haven’t done that essay for Lancer. If I miss any more assignments he’s gonna fail me for real.

Everyone knew Danny had been failing before he’d been brought to them, but he’d refused to discuss why. Once he was in school in Gotham, he’d gotten straight A’s. Even if he did ask for the occasional help in English from Jason.

But this raised so many questions. Who was Skulker and why were they attacking Dick’s little brother during English class. He flipped through the pages. Interspersed between journal entries were drawings of schematics. Dick thought he recognized some of the designs as the weapons they’d uncovered.

His eyes caught on an entry that started with a string of curses.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. My parents saw Dani today. In ghost form. They actually managed to hit her. Only her second visit and I couldn’t keep her safe. Some big brother dad cousin whatever I am. I did get her to the Far Frozen. Frostbite fixed her up. Taught me what to do if it happens again, too. And gave me the medicines and supplies to do it. I’m so glad I have friends in the Zone now. It makes it so much easier. I can’t get the image of Dani’s blood staining my hands out of my mind. Going to Tuck’s tonight. I can’t be around my parents right now.

Stomach dropping, he flipped a few more pages until he found one with a photo. It was a grinning Danny with white hair and wearing a jumpsuit standing on a curved balcony. Behind him, spire buildings rose into the air, many rounded in a way not often found on Earth.

Clockwork took me to Mars today! Holy shit it is so cool. Just, everything. We went back to when they were thriving and I had to stop an invasion. But that’s not important. Everyone here can go intangible despite being alive. Some of their buildings don’t even have doors because they’d be pointless! And the plants and animals are all so different, too. Clockwork helped me find some books on Martian history and biology and evolution. He’s also gonna show me where the Martians exist in the Zone so I can learn their language. Maybe one day I can go to Krypton or Tamaran as well?

Dick stared back at the picture. It did have that distinctive feel of wrong that extraterrestrial landscapes always had. He swallowed. “Uh, J’onn?”

“Yes, Dick?”

“Um, Danny. This is his journal. He said he went to Mars. Before… Just, before. He’s got a picture. Is this real?” He handed the photo to J’onn who hesitated a moment before taking it.

J’onn froze as he stared at the simple image. “I… Yes. This is my home. How…?”

Dick shrugged and wished he had an answer for the last of the Martians. “Someone called Clockwork brought him there apparently. To stop some sort of invasion? He didn’t discuss that much. He was too interested in the planet and people to talk about what he did. He was hoping to visit Krypton and Tamaran, too. Also said something about Martians existing somewhere he called the Zone. He wanted to meet them to learn the language.”

The look on J’onn’s face at the mention of other Martians existing somewhere was heartbreaking. Maybe Dick shouldn’t have said anything? When Danny came home, would he maybe want to talk to J’onn about Mars?

With clear reluctance, J’onn handed the picture back. “This is your brother in the photo?”

“Yeah. I mean, Danny usually has black hair and blue eyes, but that’s him. Do you recognize him?”

J’onn nodded. “Of course. He is the Omen. His coming foretells death and destruction which he will then try to avert. I know what invasion he is speaking of, it is, was, taught in our history books. He saved all of Mars that day. We thought him a god.”

Dick’s mouth fell open. His little brother? A god?

-----

Did you enjoy your little surprise update tonight? Let me know what you think!

#dpxdc #bad reveal au #wolf writes #dick is trying to be a good brother #but he keeps feeling like he's failing #(he's not he just thinks he is)#i hope my vague descriptions of mars #are accurate enough to hold up #the door thing isn't based in any sort of canon #idk if there were any buildings on mars that eschewed doors #but i feel like it'd make sense if they did?

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the-one-who-lambs · 1 year

Note

uhh hello!! sorry if this is a tall order LOL but I wanna ask, do you have any narilamb fanfic recs? :D I already read yours and I really like bamsara’s and I’m waiting for epicaandk’s to update (that one is my fav ever <3) but idk what to read now lol

Tall order?? Naaaaah, I'm always happy to give recs. Oh boy, I'm gonna go in reverse chronological order.

If you've read all of my narilamb fics (have you seriously? I'm impressed, that's probably well over half the 150k+ I've written for this damn fandom. Also, to anyone seeing this from a reblog, my stuff is over at onethirdofimpossible!) then here we go!

You already mentioned it, but The Rehabilitation of Death is excellent so far! This one is by @bamsara who is new to the CotL fandom but apparently not new to fanfic writing; they have a really popular FNAF fic and I assume the well-deserved attention this fic's been getting is a byproduct of the popularity they've already gotten in other fandoms. :D Welcome, bamsara! Many of the fic writers in this fandom are friends with each other already, but we don't bite if you wanna say hi.

Feel No Evil and Language Barrier, both by @payasita. I always love how payasita portrays this duo (in both digital art and writing), with so much sass and repressed loneliness, knowing they're stuck together for eternity and making the best of it. (And maybe falling in love, depending on how dense Narinder keeps being.) What makes these come alive for me is how well thought out the setting is outside the Lamb and Narinder. The descriptions and weight of emotions really pop here.

LITERALLY ANYTHING written by pavi / @i-eat-deodorant. Depending on how spicy you want your fics to be he has even more here. Character analysis, diction, pacing, etc. are consistently 10/10. Top-quality banter between a sassy Lamb and tired old man Narinder. We constantly bounce ideas off each other and inspire each other a lot but I promise I'm not hyping him up just because he's my friend oh my god please just go bless your eyes.

It Was For You, O Death by blueberry-muffin-massacre (if they have a tumblr, let me know so I can tag!). An intriguing alternative ending to the final battle wherein the Lamb chooses a secret third option by refusing to give up the Red Crown and still observing Narinder as the God of Death. So many details are so well thought out and duality their relationship is nicely characterized-- both genuine care for each other and also quite unhealthy. A fine line treaded well!

Confessional by jusmove (again, lmk if they have a tumblr). Been a while since I've read it, but I love how the Lamb chips at Narinder's very carefully built emotional walls. Their personalities are very well fleshed out here, especially Narinder's cognitive dissonance at being able to process love.

Confession by @thewitchoftheweed. I didn't expect a part two to this one, but my god I was so thrilled when it did update. Narinder and Lamb with their unique and parallel loneliness and their fucked-up sense of everything. Their relationship is very rocky here, and I love how they navigate it: with tension and eventual, pained acceptance. Mind the rating.

Of Character Development and Being Dense by @calliecature. A short and sweet narilamb classic. They're both mutually pining and one of them is too emotionally repressed to realize it. Guess who.

Not An Offering, But a Gift by @checkplzjuliet. Small confession fic. I especially love how Narinder's descriptions twist the knife of his situation here, and how Lambert is a total foil for him! There are a lot of good things happening in such a short span, which is impressive.

Also, if you think you've read all my narilamb fics... I do have a secret one out there too. Just so you know.

Happy reading!

I'm already friends with many of the people here, but if any of the writers I've tagged have been kinda wanting to reach out for a while but feel a little anxious... Don't be. I've made my best friends in this fandom by literally just waiting for some of my readers to get over whatever assumption they have that I'm cool and say hi. Or being the more confident one first.

#hannah's rambles #cult of the lamb #narilamb #cotl #fanfic #fic rec

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covetyou · 7 months

Text

some good friend - pt. 1

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3

pairing: Tim Rockford x Soft Dom!Sex Worker!f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: pegging, anal fingering, praise kink, mild glove kink, very mild feminization, masturbation, Tim has body image issues and a bit of an identity crisis, kind of coming untouched, sex work, comfort word count: 7k summary: Nerves were coiling in his belly in a way they typically only did at the end of a big case. There was no judge or jury here, no sentence, no surprise acquittal. There was just your door, and the promise of everything that lay beyond it. And it made him nervous.

A/N: finally, my boy Tim sees the light of day. I've been working on this for a while, and it's been nice to try something a little different. I hope you like it (and someone, anyone, please, stop me from making this a 3 part series too late, it's going to be a series)

divider by @saradika-graphics follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

Everything burns. His lungs, his legs, his goddamned feet.

He wasn't made for this. Not any more. His fucking shoes definitely weren't made for this - a fact made more and more obvious with every harsh, sharp, slap of his soles against the ground. Gone were the days of intense foot chases. They'd long since been replaced with hours spent at his desk, in interview rooms, searching the stacks in the archive room. The only saving grace was at the very least he was accustomed to low light - the dimly lit rooms he frequented coming in handy now as he thuds along in the semi-darkness, chasing after someone who is more shadow than man.

The drizzle of a cold October day certainly isn't helping either. He's coated in a fine mist of rain and soaked through to the marrow. His shoes - these fucking shoes - skid on the wet road, threatening injury with each turn of a corner. Every intake of breath blooms pain in his chest, each gasp seeming to draw in more water than air. That is, of course, if the biting chill of the wind doesn't swipe it all out of his mouth first.

He's drowning. Drowning and suffocating and burning all in one, but he can't stop. He can't will his legs to stop, even through the burn. Stopping means he loses, and he cannot lose. Not again. Not with this case.

But then, he turns a corner and the shadow is gone, faded into the darkness of an unlit alley, and out of his grasp once again.

Shit.

The ache is settled well into his bones by the time he gets home in the early hours of the morning. His tie sits damp in his jacket pocket - discarded at the roadside in a fit of rage and stomped into the wet ground, only to be picked up and pocketed a moment later. He liked that tie. His holsters tug uncomfortably at his shoulders, the twist of his body as he was running having shifted them to where they now pinch uncomfortably at his underarms. He can't wait to discard it all, to take off the whole damn lot - and these fucking shoes - and pretend for just one moment that he's not who he is.

So, he begins to shed the skin of Detective Tim Rockford.

The shoes go first. The jacket second. And then he removes his gun, stashing it in its case where it belongs and throwing his holster at his closet, where he'll no doubt struggle to find it again tomorrow. The burning sear of a shower is the last thing left to rid himself of the title that hangs over him, but instead he walks to his office. He needs to be Detective for just a moment longer.

It's tidier and more comfortable in here than it has any right to be. Dark wood, soft leather, neat folders, and blank papers. Of course, it's neat because he's rarely here to use it, preferring to use the space given to him downtown where a plaque sits on his desk telling all and sundry that Detective Tim Rockford works here. Here, in this room, he can be a little less Detective and a little more him.

He flops heavily into his chair, a move he immediately regrets when he feels the relief of taking the weight off his feet. How he'll ever get up from here, he doesn't know. Maybe he'll sleep here. Halfway between Detective and himself, stuck in some weird limbo where he is both and neither all at once. That'll lead to some good dreams.

Tim thinks of you. This was the place for that kind of thing, after all. This office where he is himself and someone else, the perfect parts of a person to be liaising with someone like you. Because that's what it was with you, a liaison. Nothing more, nothing less. And you, everything that you were, were his last chance for some good news before he peeled back the rest of the Detective and became himself for a few blissful hours.

Pulling a card from a drawer, he flips it in his fingers once, then twice before tapping it on his desk. You'd given it to him on his last visit - your address and number emblazoned on the front, both things he no longer needed to see to know, and a small list of services on the other side. Services that he ignored when you'd first pointed them out to him with a wink, but that he'd since spent a long time mulling over and, on occasion, searching in an incognito window of his browser.

With a heavy sigh, he picks up the phone, dialing your number from memory, and waits for you to pick up. Anyone else would be furious with a 4am phonecall, but not you. For a while he thought it was what suited your work best - common sense, and his years on the job, had taught him that illicit activities so often were better suited to darkness than daylight. But he'd seen clients leave your studio in the middle of the day on more than one occasion. No, by this point he simply suspected you didn't sleep at all.

A click of the call connecting, a soft breath down through the line, and there you are, the lilt of your voice ringing through his ear like music.

"Detective Rockford, how nice of you to call. What can I interest you in this fine morning?"

He pinches his nose, card still gripped tightly between his middle fingers. You did this every time, no matter the time of day or night. You were always on, always ready to try to rile him and get into his bloodstream. He'd admonished you once, told you he was only trying to do his job and he expected you to do the same. When you told him you were doing your job, Tim had to admit you got him there. You were both professionals, just in very, very different ways. From then on, he'd learned to appreciate it. Even if it did make him ache sometimes in ways he thought best to ignore.

"You got any news for me?"

You scoff down the phone. A light sound, but he can picture you rolling your eyes with it anyway. "Always so charming, Detective. Diving straight in without any foreplay at all. You can do better than that. Sweeten me up a little before you -"

"Please."

He sounds desperate in a way you haven't heard before. A year into your arrangement and he'd never sounded so bone tired and stressed out. You can even hear the pinch in his brow over the phone, the wrinkles there getting deeper and deeper the longer you knew him.

"It's been quiet, Detective. I doubt I have the names you're after, but a few whispers have been floating around. The case with the cat still causing you problems?"

From the heavy sigh he gives you can tell it's not what he was after, but that it is, indeed, still causing him problems.

"Well, I heard that..."

And so, you divulge your secrets, secrets that aren't really yours to have or to give, but you give them anyway. Whispers and names softly delivered down the phone line where he scribbles them down on a blank sheet of paper, careful not to indent the pages below it.

The pen clatters to the desk when you finish. You both know you haven't given him what he needs, but if Tim's honest with himself he isn't always sure what he needs from you any more. Though, he knows what he wants. Yes, he's frequently made painfully aware of what he wants.

"Anything you need?" he asks, his voice sounding tight with frustration. You can't blame him any more than you can hold back the laugh that trickles from your lips.

"Nothing right now. Here I was thinking that was my line anyway, Detective. The things I could do for you, if you'd let me."

Tim's eyes are drawn to the card again, now face up on the desk beside the scrawl of information you'd just given him. Truth be told, your services are as emblazoned in his mind as the details on the front of the card. Sometimes, like right now, he could barely get that list out of his mind long enough to think straight.

That's the moment when, after a long day at the end of an even longer week, part Detective but part just him, he gives in to what he's been fighting himself for for almost a year, and clears his throat.

"Like what? What... what exactly could you do for me?"

You're caught between surprise and glee, briefly straightening where you lounge in your chair. Softening back into the plush fabric, you dance a finger across your lower lip, wry smile tugging at your mouth as you think of the very many things you could do for him.

"Oh, Detective Rockford. I thought you'd never ask."

Nerves were coiling in his belly in a way they typically only did at the end of a big case. There was no judge or jury here, no sentence, no surprise acquittal. There was just your door, and the promise of everything that lay beyond it.

And it made him nervous.

He was in half a mind to walk away, but it was too late. His knuckles had already rapped against the wood, and you were already flicking the latch on the other side, readying to let him in.

When you do he's stunned, just like he always is when he sees you. This time you're half naked, a thin robe draped over your shoulders and left untied at the front. Beneath it you're wrapped in soft mesh lingerie, your nipples visible through the fabric as you beckon him inside.

The space - your studio - was a simple office unit in an undesirable part of town, but you made it work. As funny as it felt to admit, it was familiar to him now, and there was a comfort in that that was already easing the swell of nerves in his body. It wasn't always this way, of course, that first visit being eye opening both figuratively and literally. Furniture and furnishings that were odd were now somewhat normal, and the soft, rich, scent that permeated the room was one that he now associated only with you and this place you existed within. It was a smell too, he notices, that is so much stronger today than it has ever been on any of his previous visits, and he breathes in deeply, both to savor it and to calm the last of the nerves vibrating in his core.

When you shut the door, closing off the world outside, you stand before him again, looking a picture of sultry confidence as you size him up. This wasn't something that was new. You often stood there, letting your gaze wander up and down his body, lingering in places that made him flush red as you taunted him with flirty quips he'd ignore. This time is no different, and he finds himself mesmerized by the way you toy with the ties on your robe as you eye him, fingers gliding up and down the fabric.

"Are you here on your business, or mine, Detective?" you say with a smile, drawing his gaze from your fingers to your face. It was a long running joke, something you said each and every time he visited you here, despite the answer always being the same. But today, finally, it would be different.

Tim rolls his eyes, just as he always does, but instead of replying with a curt mine, he lets a smile pull at his lips instead. "Yours."

"Music to my ears. And you still want to do this? You're ready?"

You both knew that had a double meaning. In the literal physical sense, he knows he's as ready as he could possibly be. But he still takes a moment to check in with himself, to see if going through with all of it is something that he still wants. If those whispers down the phone, whispers that had quickly turned from flirty promises to guidance, to gasps, to relief, were what he still wanted. Would it be worth it, or was it a momentary blip of weakness and want? But then he remembers that relief once again, the soothing of that ache like sitting down off of pained feet, and can only imagine how much better that will feel here, with you, in this room. He's ready.

Tim nods, prompting you to take another step forward. The smell isn't the room at all, he notices. It's you. The fragrance clinging to your hair or your skin, he's not sure, but so much stronger each time you move.

"Good," you say on your slow approach. Barely a step from him you reach out, tugging on his jacket and straightening his tie before letting your palm rest on his chest. The soft stroke of your fingers does nothing to soothe the rapid hammering of the muscle pumping in his chest cavity, but you suppose it wasn't meant to. You wanted him excited and desperate for it. He'd already shown you how beautiful he could be for you over the phone - all whines and whimpers and yes ma'am's. Now you wanted the real thing.

"Why don't you get all of this off for me."

Before now, Tim had wondered how you started these things - how you went from 0 to seemingly 100 with clients to get them in through the door and out in the allotted time frame. He hadn't expected it to be so quick, or so easy. Maybe he just hadn't expected himself to be so quick, or so easy, but he's tugging at his tie before you even move away to settle against your desk with your ankles crossed.

"That's it, Detective," you prompt, letting your robe slip from your shoulders and pool at your elbows as he stuffs the tie into his pocket. "I want to see all of you."

And he wants you to see all of him. He wants to take off everything that makes him Detective Tim Rockford right in front of you, and have you take control, tell him what to do, make his mind blissfully empty. So, first he kicks off his shoes, then he takes off his jacket. Slowly, his shirt is peeled from his body, the nerves racketing up again with each button. He doesn't look how he did 10 years ago, he was less lean and more soft than he had ever been, the middle aged spread proving to be a fact of life he couldn't escape.

You know what he's thinking as his fingers stall on the last few buttons of his shirt. You'd dealt with these insecurities before, in countless other clients. You weren't immune to similar thoughts either. But, he'd told you he wanted to let go, to give up control with you, so you nod to the remainder of his clothes and prompt again.

"Come now. Let me see."

Tim's fingers work quickly over the last buttons and pull the shirt from his broad frame just as quickly, giving no time for the nerves to take root. You voice the sound of your smile the moment his shirt is discarded and he looks up to see your appraisal. Each button had drawn your eyes down his chest, to the soft swell of his belly, and further still to the growing bulge in the front of his pants. Tall and broad and beautiful, the mass of man in front of you had the power to catch your eye even fully clothed, but now, shirtless with the promise of more on the horizon, you couldn't ignore the thrill at seeing so much of his tanned skin, littered with freckles and a soft smattering of hair.

His belt is unbuckled and off, and his fingers are pulling open the button of his pants and his fly. He doesn't look at you again. He can't right now - if he does he'll choke up and stop himself, feeling entirely inadequate offering this body of his to you. Pushing down his pants, down past soft thighs and strong calves, he steps out of them, taking his socks with them with each step, before nervously scratching at his belly.

Only then, does he look back up at you. You're enraptured, and have already pushed back off your desk, circling him to look at every inch of his body. You'd dimmed the lights slightly, as you always did for client sessions, but even in the soft lamplight he looked stunning. Your fingers trace the swell of his bicep, across his shoulder and the jut of his shoulder blade. A shudder runs down his spine as your fingers dance across it, down to the dimples at his back and over his hip before you round him again where your fingertips rest on his soft belly and the trail of hair there.

"You've been hiding all of this from me for how long, Detective?" you whisper, letting your fingers glide down further and further with each word. "It makes me wonder what else you're hiding."

Tim's cock twitches in his boxers, the thin fabric straining more and more with each passing moment under your gaze. He'd never felt so seen, so appraised, before. The way you looked at him was so easy, the shine in your eye so bright as he peeled back each layer.

"You still want this?"

It's what he said he'd wanted. Days ago now, but he'd said he wanted it and he did. He does. He swallows thickly, desperate to get moisture back into his mouth, nodding a croak of a yes.

At that, you slide the tip of your finger into the waistband of his boxers and pull, stretching the elastic a fraction before releasing, pinging it sharply against his skin.

"Then get these off too, Detective."

His boxers are on the floor a second later, his cock springing free semi-hard between his legs. Raising your hands to your face, you gasp in faux shock, hiding your very real delight behind your hands as you take in his entire naked form.

"Oh, Detective Rockford. I'm disappointed. After all this time you've been hiding that from me?" you gasp, and while Tim can't help but roll his eyes, his cock betrays him and stiffens even more at your words. You'd been through it all with him. Your services, yes, but also specifically what he wanted from you, some of which you'd discovered together on the phone that morning. This was one of those things - a thing you'd discovered on a whim, but something you both knew he would like before the words left your lips. There was a reason he was asking you for this and nobody else - Tim knew the specific brand of sordid you dealt in and, more than anything, he trusted you. Unfortunately for him, you planned on keeping exactly to your word from that call and, guiding your fingers down his bare chest, you tease closer and closer to his length.

"Tsk. Such a shame I won't be playing with it today."

Tim groans, a gasp of a thing he cuts short with a pinch of his lips. He's frowning again too, but nods, knowing that what he came here for wasn't that, but also very aware of the weight of the words you used. Not today, but not never.

Then, your robe is off and you're guiding him to the bed, where he lowers himself and leans back, watching your form as it retreats into the other room. He looks down, down at the body you'd just spent minutes looking at and enjoying, and wonders what you see that he doesn't. All he knows is he's trusted your word for as long as he's known you, and it's no different now. Whatever you see in him, you at least believe it to be true, and that alone makes it easier for him to believe himself. Before he can figure much or anything else out, you're sauntering back into the room.

In your hands you hold a few things. None of them should be surprising to him, but he still sucks in a sharp breath when he sees it - the strap you'd picked out just for him. You'd told him about it over the phone, said that you had the perfect one for him, that you could picture him beneath you taking it, moaning and shaking as you fucked him, and now there it was, exactly as you described. This was never something he felt able to ask for with anyone else, his ex-wife especially. It's true he was always married more to his job than to her, but even in the privacy of their own bedroom he had secrets and wants he could never share with her - she made that much clear early on. With you, he didn't even need to mention it first for you to suggest it to him, didn't even need to feel the heat of shame in his cheeks as he struggled to find the words for what he wanted, because there you were already with all the answers.

You settle everything beside him, letting him see the soft, slender, curve of the dildo up close for the first time, and pass him a bottle of water. Tim takes it, grateful that once again that it was another thing he didn't have to ask for, and cracks open the lid, taking a deep gulp of the cold liquid before setting it out of the way. Another day he'd wonder how it got to this - how on earth Tim Rockford got so used to suffering in silence that even thirst wasn't something he'd remedy until he was desperate. But, right now all he knows is the heat of your body and the smell of your skin as you kneel next to him on the bed, looking down at him with a smirk on your lips.

"Usually I ask people how they'd like it," you whisper, stroking gently down his neck, "but I think we both know you'd like it on your knees, Detective." You twirl your finger in the air, signalling for him to move, and like the good little thing he is, he shifts onto his hands before crawling forward slightly to perch on all fours on the bed.

You think he looks glorious; he feels so exposed - entirely naked for you while you're draped in that thin mesh he can see right through. He doesn't want to think about how he looks like this, on his knees with his ass on total display, his cock hanging low and, already, starting to leak precum.

Blunt nails drag down his back, softly scraping down his ass cheeks and the backs of his thighs. He shudders. You can see his cock where it bobs between his legs, and his balls where they hang softly just beneath the cleft of his cheeks. If he were a different client, maybe you'd give in and drag your nails across the soft flesh of them too, cup them in your palm and give them a firm squeeze, but you resist. Whatever this is doing to you, you'll deal with later. For now, this is for him and that desperate man, the Detective, who had all but begged you for information down the phone.

Grabbing at the small selection of things you'd dumped next to him, you get ready. Tim watches, eager eyes looking as you pull a black nitrile glove down your hand and snap it around you wrist, wiggling your fingers at him when you spot his gaze.

"I can tell you're excited," you say with a look down to his ass where his cock bounces hard against his belly with a tense of his muscles. "You're so ready for this too, aren't you? You've been waiting so long..."

Guiding your ungloved hand down his ass, you squeeze, gripping the flesh and pulling him apart, exposing him to your gaze. "Very pretty."

Tim huffs a laugh, not believing for a second that he is pretty at all, let alone like this, or there.

"What? You don't think you're pretty, all bent over and exposed for me, Detective? I'd argue you've never looked better."

"Right. Is this how you get all your information? Your clients must tell you all sorta things, huh? Vulnerable like this."

A swift, sharp slap is delivered to his right ass cheek, making him gasp as you tut and soothe the sting with your palm. "Ah-ah, Detective, you're off the clock. No work talk. We're here on my business now, not yours."

"Fu- Never off the clock, not in my line of work."

"And that's exactly why you're here, sweetie."

"...Yes ma'am."

There's a small delighted giggle that you just can't hold back, a sound that makes him flush, before you speak again. "Polite and pretty. Are you ready for me, Detective?"

It's then he realizes that your hand hasn't stopped its slow, steady caress of his ass cheeks, pushing and pulling him apart as you watch the tension leave his shoulders. He nods, trying not to brace himself for whatever is coming first, not hearing the click of a lube bottle through the blood rushing in his ears, but definitely feeling the cool trickle of it when it drips onto his asshole.

"That's it," you say, soothing with your ungloved hand, as your gloved one comes down to stroke the pucker of his ring. "We both know you're familiar with this feeling, Detective. Are you going to let me in here?"

The wet swipe of your finger between his cheeks almost feels like it could be cool, cold tongue with how you swirl it around and around his asshole. He tries not to curl his toes, and manages not to until he can't help but beg, a small please falling softly from his plush lips, and you immediately push, sinking the tip of your finger into his ass.

Tim groans, gripping the sheets in an effort not to surge forward and away from the gentle probe of your finger.

"Make all the noise you need to, Detective."

"Fuck."

Your finger steadily sinks into him, drawing out and in to collect more lube as you drizzle it onto his hole.

"Remember how this feels?"

He remembers. Remembers the crackle of your voice over the phone line as you told him to finger his ass. How his hands had scrambled to turn on speakerphone, the other still wrapped around his cock, jerking weakly as you whispered filthy encouragement down the line. Before even that, he remembers the nights spent in his own bed, concocting his own fantasies while he fucked his fist and fingers in tandem.

Except, your fingers feel so much different from his own, can reach places his cannot, and he's groaning with his head hung low between his shoulders before you're even knuckle deep.

Curling this way and that, you feel him from the inside out. Soothing him with a hand on his back, you can feel the deep breath he takes just as the tip of your finger collides with a spot inside him he was all too familiar with, massaging back and forth until he's a groaning mess.

"Oh, well that's a pretty sound, Detective. It sounds to me like you want another."

If he closes his eyes, he can see it, see the black of your gloved hand curled into a fist as your index finger stretches his hole. He can see already as you pull out a little, unfurl another finger, and slide it next to the first, ready to push into him again.

And he takes it, letting out a shuddering gasp, as your fingers fuck into his ass once again, scissoring in him before pushing down and beginning a slow curl against that spot again.

"There. That was easy. I think someone is enjoying this quite a bit, aren't you, Detective?"

There's no denying it, he is. The feel of your hand making him want to buckle into a heap on the bed already and you'd barely even started.

"Yeah. It's - ah fuck - it's good. That's - uh - not fair."

You'd been curling and prodding against his prostate as he tried to talk, making him garble words at you as you watch his cock get more and more engorged between his thighs. "What's not fair?" you ask, with a firmer press down into the spot, and you relish in the deep gravelly moan that grumbles from his chest, forcing his elbows to drop down onto the mattress.

When his hips buck forward, you place a steadying hand on his back, stroking soothing circles with your bare fingers over the dimples in his skin whilst your gloved ones curl into the spot again and again. Part of him is longing to reach down and grab his cock, to jerk it and come all over his fist with your fingers buried in his ass, but that's not what he's here for. Each time he opens his eyes he's made aware of what he's here for by the strap that still lays next to him. If he comes too soon, he's scared that'll be it over, the relief he was really seeking from you still totally out of reach by his own failure. He couldn't, wouldn't, fail at this too.

"Just look at you, Detective. You're getting so wet already." He is. He can feel it. His cock is dripping, beads of precum collecting on his tip and threatening to make a mess of the sheets below. Nodding and groaning and squeezing his eyes shut seem to be all he can do already, feeling like a total mess of a man with your voice like honey trickling into his ear. "So good. I think you can take one more finger. That's it, just one more. Good. Good boy."

He preens, back arching with the praise, cock definitely dripping onto the sheets now, three of your fingers curling and thrusting into his ass. He throbs, the ache of arousal thrumming through him with no relief, just building and building and building with nowhere to go, because you don't let it. You control it, each press of your fingers still so achingly slow that it can make him drip and ache but never explode.

A thin sheen of sweat is coating his body, his legs shaking, forehead pressed into the cool sheets, groans falling wantonly from his mouth, by the time you gingerly pull your fingers from him. That in itself feels like a relief, he thinks. Even though he's still painfully hard at least, for one moment, he's not being worked up and up to an edge you won't quite let him over just yet.

But the strap beside him is gone when he looks up, pushing up on shaky hands to look around for you again. Now, it sits on your hips, straps pulled taught over the mesh of your lingerie. You're pulling a condom over the length of dildo, rolling it down to the base, your glove discarded somewhere he can't see. His mouth is dry again, so he reaches for the water, swallowing deeply, wiping away an errant drop from the scruff of his beard.

He can't stop looking. Between your face, your beautiful face, your scantily clad body, your hands and those fingers that had just been inside him, the cock between your legs. He's entranced. It takes a gentle hand on his shoulder for him to notice you're talking to him.

"Look at you, Detective," you hum down to him, and all he can think is Yes. Look at me. Please. Here he was, stripped bare as a man could be, seen by you in ways he'd never been seen. And that name - a taunt coming from you that he longed for rather than loathed. Each tease of Detective a reminder that with you he could be both and neither all at once, just as he always was.

He reaches for you then. Slowly. Delicately. Fingers bridging the gap between you. Usually you'd step back, move away from grasping hands when permission wasn't granted. But, you let him touch, his fingers resting on your mesh covered hip and stroking you. It's the first time he's ever touched you, and it's so soft. You're so soft.

"You're ready for it, aren't you?" you ask, your eyes lazily dragging down to the strap between your legs where his follow.

Without word, and avoiding the mess already splattered on the sheet, he moves back to all fours, his hand leaving you cold. Slicking more lube across the strap, you kneel behind him, palming his ass with both hands, rubbing soft circles down his thighs as you gently rut against the crevasse of his ass.

"Do you trust me, Detective?"

It's a stupid question - stupid because you already know the answer, and so does he.

"You're kidding, right?" he says in disbelief, looking around to see the coy smile on your face.

"Humor me."

"Of course I do."

With his eyes still on you, you press forward, hand steadying the dildo to slip the tip into his slick asshole.

"Oh. That's it. Look at me when I fuck your ass. That feels so good doesn't it?"

Tim pants, nodding as you bear forward. The strap is barely thicker than your three fingers, but his rim still stretches and pulls as you breach him, slowly, steadily, until the entire length is buried in his ass.

"There we go. That's it. I'm all the way in. You take an ass fucking so well, Detective. Are you sure you haven't done this before?" With another roll of your hips he's gasping again, dropping his face to the sheet. The heat of his thighs are against yours and you know, you just know, that his cock is straining, his balls begging to empty already.

"There we are. That's it. You can take it. Oh, good boy. You like that don't you. You like being a good boy."

With his cheek is pressed to the mattress, you can see nothing but the pinched look of ecstasy on his face. It's boiling in his veins too, the heat spreading up his back and burning his cheeks. If he opens his eyes he'll see you, looking down with intent at his ass as you slowly roll your hips into him, and the thought alone makes him groan, brings him so close to coming that he's scrambling for purchase on the bed again, desperate gasps rattling out of him. The cloying scent of you is all over him - stuck in his lungs like molasses, each deep breath in of you coinciding with each slap of your hips against his ass until desperation turns to pleading.

"Please. P-please. Fuck. Please."

"Please what?" you say, looking around at him. And that's when you see his cock, angry and weeping, splattering cum all over your sheets. You hadn't felt him come yet, there'd been no tensing of his muscles or twitching of his cock, just a steady stream of precum dripping from him like a leaky faucet. "Oh, look at that. You're making quite the mess, aren't you, sweetie? Are you going to clean that up? Hm? Or will I have to bill the city for my laundry?"

"Oh, fu-," he pants, and you feel a shiver trickle down his back at the empty threat, his palms pressing harder into the mattress beneath him as his shoulders draw back. He's going to come. You don't even need to move, you could just talk to him in that voice of yours, call him a good boy and tell him how dirty he is and he'd be gone, skyrocketing to a place he'd never been and making a glorious mess of everything.

"What was that?" You slow down the roll of your hips, drawing him back from that edge you'd been dangling him so deliciously over.

"No. No. Don't - Fuck."

"Then you'll have to clean up your mess."

You swipe your finger through the cum that has steadily dripped from his cock and onto the sheet below, and lean forward to bring it to his lips, pressing your hips further and further into his ass. There's a sticky sheen of sweat on his back that slicks you together, and you can't resist. You kiss him. Soft lips pressing into the muscle of his shoulder, waiting for that moment he parts his lips in a voiceless moan to slip your finger inside. His tongue laves around your digit, tasting himself on the salt of your skin and he groans, vibrating desperate sounds from his chest to yours as you fuck so deep he's seeing stars.

"That's it, that's a good boy," you coo, dragging your finger from his mouth, leaving a trail of saliva across the scruff of his cheek.

"It's such a shame I have no use for your cock when it looks so pretty, Detective," You say, lifting your leg to fuck more deeply into him. "Look at it, all drippy and useless. You're going to come, aren't you? Even without touching your cock, you're going to come and make even more of a mess."

"Yes. Fuck, yes. Don't stop."

The steady slap of your hips picks up, and you're panting with exertion now too. You could've had him coming in five minutes, but that was no fun for you. You'd waited too long for this not to drag it out, not to see how long he could hold off for you, how much of a desperate mess he could be before he was begging for release. This was it. His limit. You'd found it, and his groans were suddenly impossible to ignore, shooting white hot heat into your own core, making you feel slick with want as you fucked him. You need him to come, before your need for more friction clouds your brain and you need to slip your hand between your own legs before he even leaves.

"Such a pretty ass to ruin. Come for me, Detective. Oh, fuck. Come for me."

He stops breathing. He thinks he's died. He has to have. You think you've killed him. But then his whole body tenses and he groans out a sob, biting sheets and spitting them out over and over as he comes, and comes, and comes. You don't stop, each shuddering sob of a gasp spurring you on until he's milked dry and almost prone on the mattress.

"That's it. That's it. You did it. Good boy. Well done, Detective. Well done."

He feels so soft. His bones must have turned to dust and spurted out of his cock with that final thrust of the strap in his ass. He's never been this weightless, never been this carefree. There's not an ache in him, just pure bliss, and he's so relieved he could cry.

And you're there. Pulling out of him slowly, wiping down his back, his thighs, with a damp towel, cooling him before you dry him with another, bringing water to his lips for him to drink. Pushing his hair back from his forehead, you guide him onto his back, letting him lie down and take a moments rest you know the man wouldn't take any other time. You're fairly certain he doesn't sleep. Detective Rockford works too hard because he cares too much, you know that. And you also know he doesn't care for himself. That is why he's here, even if he'd never say so himself.

"Up you get, sweetie. It's cold. Let's get something on you," you're whispering to him all too soon. Tim's lost, the concept of time gone from his body entirely, but he supposes it has been too long, his time is up. He only paid for an hour of your time, and even that seemed much more valuable than the price you'd put on it. He should go.

When he sits up he's lethargic, reaching for his clothes as he shuffles to the end of the bed. He doesn't know you're holding a robe out for him, strap discarded. He doesn't see the concern in your eyes because he suddenly can't meet them. "Should get going, I guess."

"No. You shouldn't. Stay."

Tim looks up to you then, seeing you wrapped and fully covered for the first time in the year he's known you. You're no more on the job right now than he is, he realizes, blinking in confusion at the robe you toss next to him.

"Look, I've taken up enough of your time, I don't want to overstep -"

"I'm not asking you to stay as a client, Detective. I'm asking you to stay as a friend. Stay. Talk to me." And you say it because god knows you mean it. You want him to stay and you want him to talk as much as you know he needs it, that gap he'd bridged with his hand now being bridged by you, and your simple request that he stay.

"Some friend to have."

"A good friend to have, Tim.”

“- I didn't mean - I meant me, I -”

“The point still stands either way," you say. And you mean that too. "Stay."

And that's it. There he is. Stripped back, just like he wanted. No more Detective. Just Tim. And there you are. Sitting on the blanket draped sofa, looking him straight in the eye. You don't need to look down to see him, and he doesn't need to look up to see you.

Grabbing the robe, Tim drapes it around himself, walking on unsteady feet toward you, the mess of the sheets and his life forgotten for one more second.

"Decaf? Might not have all the answers. But I do have coffee. And that's a start."

"Yeah," he says as he sits beside you. "Yeah, that's a start."

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr @corazondebeskar-reads

also a little sneaky tag if you showed interest in my snippet the other day 💛 @heareball @nerdieforpedro @missredherring @survivingandenduring

#tim rockford x reader #tim rockford x f!reader #tim rockford x you #merge mansion #merge mansion fanfiction #tim rockford fanfiction #tim rockford #detective tim rockford #coveted fics

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irondad-and-spiderson · 7 months

Note

Hi! Sorry to bother, idk if you take asks like this (if you don't feel free to ignore!) but do you know any good fics where SI employees bully/threaten/mistreat Peter and Tony comes to the rescue? Thank you so much for your time 💙💙

Hi! I absolutely do! I might just take forever to respond and take your prompt a little loosely 😃 The three under the cut are employees with (valid) security concerns. I know there are more that I can’t find, so anyone feel free to add some 😉

A Big Security Issue by FotiBrit

When Peter lost his Stark Industries Staff ID, Tony handed the kid his own. That was never an issue, until Peter had to check in at the front desk.

The Cusp of a Breath by SpaceCowboysFromMars

“That was the most stressful thing I’ve ever experienced.” Peter says as he and Tony make their way into the crowd. He wipes his sweaty palms on his thighs, cringing when he remembers how much the suit costs.

“You got shot on patrol last month.”

“This was worse.”

Or; Peter is introduced as the official heir of Stark Industries, but not everyone is completely welcoming of his presence. Luckily, he has a pretty awesome mentor to keep him on track.

the love (and other things) you inherit by ironfidus

“Which is why,” Catherine says, unblinking, as delicately as she can, “the board requires that you name a successor in the event of your untimely demise. The risk has simply become too great for us to ignore.”

Tony Stark’s spent a large portion of his life thinking about legacy: his legacy, his company’s, Iron Man’s. He’s spent a lot of time fighting to protect his legacy, too. But today, with a lawyer as his witness and FRIDAY as his one-AI cheerleading squad, he stops, takes a step back, and lets go instead—because for the first time, his legacy isn’t about him, not really.

And as FRIDAY would say: it’s about damn time.

Alternatively: Tony updates his will and gets himself an heir, Peter gets a promotion (for lack of a better word), and the rest of the world gets a wake-up call—in that order. Ft. an impatient board of directors, a Stark Industries charity gala, and a universe in which Tony Stark gets to be happy.

Security Bias by Sara (ctrsara)

Happy Hogan asks Daren Anderson to help him out with a little project.

My take on idk-bruh-20's irondad fic ideas #128: Fic where, after a security incident in which some bozo accused Peter of trespassing at Stark Tower, Happy holds an emergency briefing for the entire SI security team.

The topic of the briefing? The absolutely untouchable, vital-to-know-if-you-want-to-keep-your-job level of importance of one Peter Parker.

Five Times Tony Stark's Fabled Intern Just Showed Up + One Time He Was Invited by kingdomfaraway

While Leroy didn’t like gossip, he wasn’t immune to it and he’d heard about a young boy claiming to be Tony Stark’s intern showing up randomly throughout the building. He just figured it was some random mystery, a Stark Industries cryptid if you will.

Never did he think he’d have a sighting.

“Are you Peter Parker?” Leroy questioned, narrowing his eyes at the young boy, looking for any signs of deceit.

“Oh yeah, that’s me, hi!” Possibly Fabled Intern Peter Parker reached into his pocket and pulled out a badge and lanyard, this one with his face on it and INTERN written underneath it. “Mr. Stark got me a badge so I can get nachos whenever I want.”

Chapter 1 of 200 Park Avenue (5+1) by Sara (ctrsara)

Peter hasn't seen Mr. Stark, or been able to go out as Spider-man since he turned down his invitation to join the Avengers a few weeks ago. He ends up at Stark Tower rather randomly, finding an unlikely hero in Mr. Stark's AI, then keeps returning for different purposes.

The first chapter is a short I did for Comfortember 2022 that I've just kept thinking about. I'm building on that story and creating a 5+1 to explore the new dynamic (post-Homecoming) in another way.

5 Times Peter Visited Stark Tower and 1 Time He Stayed

Home by patrochilles_trash ((it’s less angsty than it sounds))

Tony had been out of the country for weeks on SI business, and Peter was having a hard time. He missed him, plain and simple.

Okay. Maybe not so plain and simple.

Peter had a rough time in the weeks and months that followed the final defeat of Thanos in the ruins of the Compound. Thrust back into life, only to be forced to fight for the lives of the entire universe for the second time at only sixteen-years-old, and then to be told that his last living relative died in a crash during his five year absence did wonders for his psyche.

He developed a nasty form of separation anxiety toward his mentor-turned-adoptive-father -- not that Tony fared much better himself -- and his therapist had said it was a side effect of PTSD and that it would get better over time.

A small field trip fic to SI where Tony has been out of the country for a few weeks, and Peter isn't handling it well.

Don't be fooled. This garbage fluff to avoid my other fics that I'm writing

#ask #fanfiction #iron dad #tony stark #spider son #peter parker #fic rec #answered

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twinkboimler · 3 months

Text

June Fic Recs

It's been a while since I put one of these together! Under the cut are a selection of great spirk, mckirk, spones, and mcspirk fics I've read in the past few months with a brief description of what I liked about them. Enjoy!

SPIRK

Tomorrow’s Circus by Borealisblue. TOS. Explicit, 56,084 words (as of 6/20/24). Work in progress. Circus au, 1930s, everyone’s human. The friends-to-lovers and pining in this is SO GOOD and I really think that everyone needs to be reading this fic. I haven’t been this invested in a fic in a long time; getting that subscription email letting me know this fic has updated can literally fix me when I’m having a bad day. Cannot rec this fic enough if you’re in the mood for a slowburn, plus the art in it is phenomenal.

A Perfect Fit by ThereBeWhalesHere. TOS. Teen and Up Audiences, 7,097 words. Role swap: Captain Spock and First Officer Kirk. Spock’s POV, admittance of feelings, first kiss. This fic is so lovely, I love a fic where I get to just watch these two get to know each other and fall in love.

Time After Time by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin). SNW and Disco. Explicit, 138,921 words. I loved this fic. The pining and sexual tension is so good, and this fic has a good balance of humorous fluffy scenes and angst and incredibly hot smut. It’s a spirk fic, yes, but it really dives into sibling dynamics as it explores the Kirk brothers’ relationship as Spock continues to process the Michael-shaped hole in his life. I love this take on this era’s Spock, there’s so much he doesn’t know about himself yet. I also really adore how this fic writes all the characters—you really get a sense of everyone’s personalities in this fic, the entire crew feels so ALIVE. Just fantastic characterizations of everyone!

Big Me (But It's You I Fell Into) by waketosleep. AOS. Mature, 38,728 words. This is the fic that got me to care about golf. I wish I was kidding—now I join my in-laws when they’re watching it on the TV. This fic has a scene between McCoy and Kirk during Kirk’s first tournament with him that had me laughing my ass off. Never not thinking about this fic; the dangerous part about reading a sports au is suddenly you care about that sport. Don’t think it can happen to you? Give this fic a try.

Consume by the_moonmoth. AOS. Explicit, 1,139 words. Must be logged in to read. Very hot smut. Dirty talk, mind melds, Bottom!Kirk and Top!Spock. This fic just hits.

You Could Call It Love by lurikko. TOS. Mature, 45,791 words. Fake marriage, slowburn, getting together. This fic is SO good, just a whole bunch of tropes that I adore.

SPONES

That Which Lingers by stanzas. TOS Movies. Teen and Up Audiences, 1,008 words. Takes place after The Search for Spock. Established relationship with some very sweet moments as they deal with the lingering side effects of the fal-tor-pan. This fic is just everything to me, it absolutely melted my heart.

So Hold Me Close and Say Three Words by Rusoe. TOS. Mature, 1,103 words. Omegaverse. Nesting, Omega!McCoy and Alpha!Spock. I absolutely wasn’t expecting this fic to dive into insecurities about aging when I clicked on it. Loved this!

Stop Making Sense by therev. TOS. General Audiences, 13,775 words. Spock is severely injured as a result of a decision McCoy had to make in order to save the lives of others. McCoy carries a lot of guilt over his actions, even as Spock recovers from his injuries. Very good.

it’s all downhill from here by strangenewwords. AOS. Teen and Up Audiences, 2,082 words. McCoy takes Joanna sledding. Joanna gets overtired, and McCoy gets overwhelmed and panicky. Love this fic’s take on Dad!McCoy, and the spones in this is so damn sweet.

MCKIRK

and i can lend you broken parts that might fit (like this) by jeyhawk. AOS. Explicit, 17,461 words. Academy era, first they hookup, then get to know each other, and then their relationship grows from there. I’m a sucker for fics with this setup.

Resistless is your charm by fangirlandiknowit. AOS. Explicit, 6,031 words. After hearing about Uhura’s awful first date with Kirk, McCoy decides to text him. Includes some mini-golfing and a very good car hookup scene. Loved this.

MCSPIRK

Tex-Mex Eggrolls and Spinach Dip by Ncc1701ohno. TOS. Explicit, 3,746 words. Smut, light bondage. The setup for this fic is that Spock, McCoy, and Kirk find themselves stuck in the 21st century and work at the Cheesecake Factory in order to make ends meet. I desperately want this fic to become a multi-part series, because the concept is endlessly amusing to me (which is pretty obvious since I partially inspired the idea). A very funny and very hot fic.

Everything That Disappears by sagesiren. AOS. Mature, 19,748 words. Academy era, kid fic, Trans!McCoy, fluff and emotional hurt/comfort. Absolutely loved this, McCoy being a single dad is everything to me. A very entertaining get-together fic for the three of them while exploring parenthood and being trans.

Approximation by liadan14. AOS. Explicit, 15,167 words. Mutual pining, hot smut, and a really interesting plot told non-chronologically. I especially enjoyed Spock’s characterization in this fic, but I love how all three of them are written!

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yukidragon · 5 months

Note

Okay so I'm trying really hard to get into SWWSDJ but there's so much lore not e en in the games I feel very much in over my head lol. Can you like...give a rundown? Or at least point me in the direction of where to start? I wanna write fic about the clown man damn it lol

I understand what you mean. When you fist enter into a fandom it can be pretty daunting, especially if you don't get a lot of the references and information that the bulk of the fandom takes as common knowledge.

A lot of the information we have about the lore for SWWSDJ comes from the various demos and teasers. However, the lore is being updated as the game is in development, as evidenced by the differences in each of the demos. Things have changed since its initial demo release, and will likely continue to change until the full game is released. SWWSDJ is very much a work in progress.

The most obvious place to start of course is the latest demo. You can check out a public release of it on the SnaccPop Studios Patreon over here.

There's a release that came after this one with a bit more content, but you'll have to become a member if you want to see it for yourself. Personally I think it's worth it for all the goodies that are regularly released on the patreon. If you've signed up, I highly recommend checking it out.

After that, I think it's good to look at the official webpages for SWWSDJ, including the official tumblr over on @sunny-day-jack-official. The tumblr page answers quite a number of questions from the fans, as well as some teasers. They've even made a listing of most of the other official webpages in this post here.

Another page that teases some juicy lore is the official profiles over on Toyhouse. Want to know the canon heights of the love interests and their birthdays? This is the place to get that info.

The official twitter page has been a place to pick up bits of lore since the beginning. There's plenty of teasers, profiles, and it gives a good sense of how things have evolved during development.

There are some teasers that are floating around posted by the original creator and others working on the project, but the rule of thumb is to take these with a pinch of salt. They're very good to inspire ideas and lore crafting, but if it's not on an official page like the twitter, tumblr, patreon, etc. then it's technically not canon.

Speaking of technically not canon, if you're interested in seeing my deep dives into my theories about the lore, AU crafting, and just gushing about the series in general, feel free to check out my rambles. I've done a lot of thinking about this series, and my opinions keep evolving as new developments release. I've also done quite a lot of writing as well.

I hope this can be helpful to get you started, and that you enjoy your time in this fandom. If you have more specific questions, feel free to toss them into my inbox. I might take a while to answer, but I appreciate every ask sent my way. I look forward to seeing your stories, as well as the stories of everyone else in this lovely fandom.💖

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #Headcanon Ramblings #Ask

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brighteyes-things · 21 days

Text

Deadpool/ wolverine as thing's me and my friends have said or heard

💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️

So it's been a while since I've written anything, and me and my friends now have the poolverine, dead claws.... wolverine and Deadpool itch

So in honor of our collected brain rot, these are some random things that we've heard/said that we think Deadpool or wolverine would say. Yes this will be updated as more things are said

WARNING: cursing, somewhat sexual jokes, mention of alcohol

Wade Wilson (Deadpool) ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

"I wasn't expecting to get turned on by a shirtless Hugh Jackman but God damn I'm not complaining"

"I don't feel fem boy enough, I need more eyeliner"

"I'm not a furry, but I'd fuck a man with cat ears"

*While sipping something* "you think I can use my boobs to hold this?"

"he's giving emo babygirl"

"you must FIRMLY grasp the booty"

"I can't just leave the house, I have to get my big boots on"

"you can't just slap my ass and leave"

"IM A MAN" *buys the pink strawberry skin care set from bath and body*

"I'm very gay and not afraid to kiss the movie poster to prove it"

"you ever think Slenderman is trying to recruit us for something"

"NO, no more black veil bride music, I'm not suffering through your emo phase again"

*mocking twilight* "WHY WOULD HE IMPRINT ON THE BABY, THAT'S FUCKED UP"

"I swear Batman only owns an adoption center just in case someone dies and he needs another mentally ill orphan"

*breaks a cabinet door just for gummy bears* (yes this happened by accident)

"I'd rob hot topic for those lollipop razor blade earrings"

"I know I'm mentally ill, I watch bluey and cry"

"I have to beat the fem boi allegations"

"I don't know why but I feel like I give off beta vibes"

"you'll never believe the ABO fic I just read"

"she's becoming an animae obsessed fan girl, it's a canon event I can't stop it, OH GOD SHE DISCOVERED WATTPAD"

*while watching crime TV* "this man needs to be put to death, he didn't eat the chocolate frosting on the cupcakes"

*while looking in the mirror* " I love my slutty man hips"

Logan (wolverine) 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

"I've become the caretaker to everyone, and I don't know how to feel"

"Ryan Reynolds could run me over with a truck and I'd apologize after I curse him out because...I GOT RAN OVER STILL"

*sees an animal on the side of the road* "poor kitty"

"fanart definitely scares me sometimes"

*gets kissed on the cheek* "that's GAY"

"you can't just eat the cup to get to the last drop of coffee"

"just how long is your simp list now, and why am I on it"

"that's unamerican, un-lawful, and downright not patriotic"

"no I don't wanna know the details of what you and your partner did, I'm trying to eat"

"stop trying to throw stuff in my boobs, it's annoying when I find crumbs of cookies in there"

"how did the least qualified of us, somehow graduate first AND have a baby in the span of a year"

"how'd I get rejected from Hooters?"

"you're an omega and you know it"

"your the reason they started bagging the peaches at Aldi's"

"how the hell did you burn yourself with a candy cane?!"

"it's only alcohol abuse if you spill anything"

"You're not a god, you're just dehydrated and read too much fanfiction"

"it's only gay if you don't have socks"

*staring at a pet rabbit* "that little demon is purposely chewing up my shit and you know it"

"did you just John Cena the clothes"

#wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadclaws #poolverine #deadpool 3 #headcanon #qoutes #the brainrot is real

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shiny-jr · 10 months

Note

hiiii!! I recently got into quotev to read your most recent release, "how to steal a heart," and was curious if u have any recs for other yandere quotev fics? :o or just any quotev fics in general!! ^_^

feel free to disregard this question tho if u don't have any recs or simply don't want to answer!

Thank you, anon! I'm glad people seem to be liking that story so far. I'm hoping that I can find the time to write for it soon. Hopefully. Anyways, as for recommendations. That's a difficult request for me to answer for two reasons. One: I rarely have the time to read, and when I do read these days its physical books. And two: I'm terribly picky so if I don't like something about a fic its automatically out.

But, I managed to fish out a couple of things from my library that I finished reading ages ago. However, keep in mind, I meant what I said when I say that it has been a long time since I read these fics. So they may not be as good as I remember, or I may get some things wrong. Keep that in mind. Also, these are all yandere x reader stories.

Infectious Intent by Darkened Warrior. I remember when I first discovered this story, I stayed up reading it. I stayed up late, and legit got kinda scared because imagining certain scenes in this story and reading the details gave me the chills and was just not a good idea to read it while it was pitch black and the dead of night. Even the ending got me.

the martyrdom of a final girl by MAI. This is one of the more recent stories I've put in my library, and by recent I mean it's probably been there for almost a year now. I haven't caught up with the updates, but I remember the story really gave kinda protagonist and friend group in the 80's-90's sort of horror vibe to it. Although I don't remember if it got to the yandere yet. It really hooks you in with action that starts fairly quickly which I very much value when starting a new story.

Humorously Inconvenient Tragedies by riz. In all stories, I very much value action. If there's not action in the first few chapters, I usually toss the story out. However, this story managed to be the sole exception to that. I think it's the written tension that managed to keep me hooked. Like the questions of why and how, along with the tension between characters that keep me intrigued.

Bonus: Shameless plug for How To Steal A Heart because damn it if people won't write Latino yanderes then I gotta do it myself. Also because its a vital part in the whole oc lore I have which has been obscure up until very recently.

#shiny speaks #quotev stuff #recommendations

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itsyagurlchip · 4 months

Text

٠ ˚ ※ ๋࣭ ᯓ⚝ ⋆ .˚✰Video Game Lover💜٠ ˚ ※ ๋࣭ ᯓ⚝ ⋆ .˚✰

✰⋆⁺warnings: cussing(!) (Y/N) is used (😱)(!) mentions of injury and bone (!)

✰⋆⁺Im actually really loving this plot that I'm coming up with. I hope the world around Player (that's what I'm calling reader) is making sense. Since I haven't written for this fic for a long time, I'm gonna try to finish this as i go thru the summer, and hope to finish it around august or september! Enjoyyyy!!!

✰⋆⁺ Chapter 2: What to Do...What to Do!?

(Chapter 1) | (Chapter 3)

WELCOME BACK! GAME START? (ok, back here...)

YES NO (here we go again)

{ tip:the shadows are sentient, its best to not ager them } (you spelt anger wrong lmao)

{ shut up! I'm trying to help you >:(( } (who even are you???)

{ It's me! } (who-!?)

GAME LOADING

...

That interaction was odd. you wondered who that could've been.

or better yet,

what the hell happened after you finished reading that semi-biography gnome obituary? And why didn't Nigel have enough paper???

what were you thinking about? your memory is fuzzy. oh well.

Now the area in looked vastly different than the previous one, which disoriented you a bit.

Looking around, you saw that the world still had a pastel palette. Except this time, instead if a forest, it looked more like a field.

The inconsistent style between the character design and the background pissed you off, as you were still pixels.

But, instead of worrying about that, you drive your attention to your surroundings once more.

The grass looked super stiff, and despite the sensation of wind showing on your sprite, nothing actually moved along with it.

Oddly enough, the creator didn't add any flowers, which honestly surprised you. Instead, there were soft and plump succulents (???) and small bunnies and insect-critter thingies crawling around.

Who the hell designed and produced this game?

while your headache was growing bigger, you decided to press that white check mark above your head once more.

(Update!!✨ New Page Unlocked✨!)

1.Stats

Lives: 1

Death Count: 0

Health: 25/30

Attack 2/20

4.Objectives (✨new✨)

FIND GNOME HUT ◻

EAT SPARKLE BERRIES ◻

TEST YOUR POWERS ◻

The first thing that you noticed was the lack of health you had. Didn't you have full health? Then, looking towards the new page, you figured out why.

Honestly, you were lucky because it seemed that only hunger could personally damage you. Damn thirst.

Back in Donnie's lab, Mikey, Leo and Raph sat in silence.

"So Leo-"

"Guys look!, the screen!" Leo interrupted, shallowly 'saving' himself. On the computer, it showed a round world with a pixelated character right in the middle.

It was you! But not?

The outfit you wore was something that the real you would never wear. Being broke and all. *cough* snacks *cough*

"(Y/N)'s a royal!! My prayers have been answered!!" Mikey sighs comically, despite not intending for them to be sucked into a video game for his wishes to come true, "I'll take what I can get."

"I knew it! It was Mikey's fault!" Leo said, jabbing a finger at the little man. "He and his 'DoCter FeEliNgS' cursed Donnie to never find love, man I hope Jaquelin's okay, AND TOOK ONE OF OUR HUMAN FRIENDS! prayers for homegirl. " Mikey rolled his eyes.

"Dude, you tripped the girl and she ended up in a hospital because Donnie was buildin' her a gift instead of your dumbass 'uNicORn RocKeT'" Mikey then gestured to his leg. as Leo crossed his arms and looked away. "Her bone was sticking out of her knee!"

"I've already told you, !" Leo yelled, "Jaquelin just so happened to walk in front of my leg! And the building just so happened to come to an edge- which was totally not caused by my lack of perception!" Leo huffed and stomped out of the room.

"So that was....o-okay-" Raph blinked froggily. Focusing back on the screen, he watched as you adjusted the crown on your head, curiously looking around. Raph found it cute how your sprite blinks with wide eyes.

"Back to my favorite couple!" Mikey said, looking towards where Raph was. The music in this is annoying as hell, they both agreed.

On screen, they watched as you tried to figure the world out, cheering you on as they watched you grab a log to cross the rushing river. Despite being mouthless in the world, you still had a range of emotions on your face that both turtles enjoyed.

Now, you pressed on into the woods, your sprite skipping along in happiness. And suddenly stopped. A question mark appeared on your forehead before an exclamation mark popped up soon after. an idea?

Raph raised an eyebrow, before watching you reach your arm up to the white check mark above your head. Almost instantly, a page of black opened up. Purple lettering began to quickly type out across the page, a long with a note a the bottom.

Mikey was already sitting down in Donnie's gaming chair with a bag of popcorn, snuggling into the blanket as a voice actor began reading out the letter.

F in the chat for Nigel, he deserved better.

It was like a movie! A terribly illustrated, yet fully interesting, predictably flash backing, movie! Mikey wasn't gonna let this new form of entertainment go to waste.

He instead typed in the keyboard shortcut for screen recording, and sat back and watched.

Raph sighed and plopped himself down onto the floor, tired of standing anyway.

In a flash, the screen suddenly turned black, startling the boys as they leaned forward. Immediately they relaxed, seeing that it was simply a loading screen.

"[give player tips (?)]" The screen blinked, waiting for the "viewers" to make their choice.

YES NO

Mikey chose the right answer- god forbid (Y/N) takes this for granted.

Tip: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

"Hey Raph! Can I borrow your phone real quick?" Mikey asked.

Raph, already knowing what to do, pulled up the wheel of names, and inserted each number twenty times, before spinning and landing on the number 2.

"Number 2!! Raph was rootin' for 4 tho-" He said, shaking his head solemnly.

Mikey, chuckling a bit, chose the number on the screen. There was a tingling sensation in his head, which he'll just get medication for later! This was way too fun.

In a flash, Mikey was dissipating into the computer screen.

"OH SHI-" *pop!*

Raph sat there, stunned, just as Leo walked back in the room with April.

April, being the badass she is, noticed something wrong.

"Where's Mikey?"

i hope this is making you guys laugh. i literally i haven't touched this in weeks. I think im gonna stick to 2nd person, because i find that my silly shit is easier to reference and the narrating is funnier. I really wanted to make this longer but I just had to cut it off there or it would seem wayyyy to run-on for me.

Anything you guys wanna reference? some memes?

Also, do you guys recommend anything for the stats page? i feel like i shouldn't list all of that out (i may tire myself out as well as you guys) so i want to find a way to make that easier.

wait nvm- that lowkey gave me an idea. i think it'll help you guys visualize better as well too-

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@ziipzeepzop-eez @spongejuice @nuncscioquidsitamor-13 @cyb3r-st4r

if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

#yagurlchip❤️#VGL💜#donnie x reader #rottmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raph #rottmnt leo #prayers for Jaquelin #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #TMNT #sorry guys but-#y/n was used😔#yagurl writes

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py-dreamer · 2 months

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youtube

I can't believe this is the first goddamn video I post.

But times are funny like that aren't they?

Ok so as the thumbnail says, this is specifically for the first lmk fic I've written:

"When the sun sets forever."

Yes it's shadowpeach, how on earth did you guess. And if you've floated around my dreamscape for a while, you'll know my...

...very enthusiastic opinions of Macaque...

(I promise I do still like him, he's a great character, it's just I get pretty peeved by how the majority of the fandom portrays their relationship a lot of peeps bashing Wukong and saying Mac did nothing wrong-

I have a whole other post about this and the fic, I'm tired man, here're the links:

https://www.tumblr.com/py-dreamer/751398212493000704/oh-its-macaroni-learns-the-consequences-for

https://www.tumblr.com/py-dreamer/751119540805632000/rant-about-shadowpeach-warning-mac-slander)

But regardless, if you enjoy some Macaca slander, hop on board!

If you don't , good for you! Please don't harass anyone who thinks otherwise.

But to sum up:

In this fic we explore a scenario where Macaque finds a time alterating artifact after a huge spat on the mountain (that resulted in the clip above), uses that artifact to make it so he killed Tripitaka during JTTW. Then we see his pov in this universe where things have certainly changed drastically

...and not necessarily for the better.

People change. Friends or foes found dead or alive. Cities fall and some thrive.

But one thing I can assure you?

Neither of our mystic monkeys are having any fun until the end.

But yeah! Formal announcement post for my fic!

Yes this is a big reason why I've been absent for like a month

No I won't stop posting art. I'm taking a short break rn to get into the rhythm of drawing again

No there isn't a formal posting schedule, but I do have it in mind

No this isn't the big BIG project I've been working on for a few weeks

(Forgive me if I missed anything from s5, this was planned and written before that and I haven't watched it yet)

But enough about me!

I want to thank anyone who's already seen the fic and/or left kudos or comments

And I want to give an especially huge shoutout to @furornocturna for beta reading this thing!

Their work is great! And is one of the most enjoyable reads I've read in a long while

And since I haven't seen an official post for it yet...

SHABAM!!! Another great fic! She recently updated it too! It's about amnesiac Wukong who thinks Macaque is still his mate and MK is their child!

Wham bam, pajama sam's christmas ham: hijinks ensue

Very entertaining, good ol Macaque bashing

(she and I like to stand around him in a circle and give him a good whack with the consequences stick sometimes. It builds character.)

And parental Shadowpeach is always appreciated here. 10/10

I have not linked it but also check out:

Fractured pieces make a mosaic

Also written by her! Another great fic that delves into more of the sins of Macaque against EVERYONE not just Wukong

But about the video, yea just heard the audio and thought it'd be funny

I feel like Chang'e would definitely comfort a friend after some harsh words like what happens in the 1st chapter

Or at least she'd hear what Macaque did from Wukong and give massive side eye

(Especially since I figured she'd have a damn well knowledge of bad men *cough* *cough8 the reason Zhu Bajie got kicked out of heaven in the first place *cough* *cough*

I know they've rarely interacted in canon but hey, they've at least met on screen and we know Wukong can build a rocket to visit. Plus both being lonely immortals with cute animal subjects being theri only companions for centuries...

I have a feeling they'd get along somehow

They remind me of friends who exchange pics of their cute pet, only it's more like children for Wukong since they're literally his Sun family

And anyway the fandom pairs Mac and Chang'e just because they have a moon motif so let me have this goddamit.

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blossomwritesthings · 1 year

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𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. | 𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞

⬷ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ┊ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

pairing: felix x fem!reader (afab) // chan x fem!reader (afab)

genre: nonidol/collegegrad!felix. waitress!reader. college au. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. friends to enemies to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining. cheating. abusive boyfriend/ex. drama galore. the sexual tension is REAL in this one.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. felix is reader's estranged childhood bestie. chan is low-key an asshole in this ngl. heavy topics are mentioned such as: abusive/toxic relationships, cheating, and pathological lying. drinking/partying. the summer vibes are real in this one. there will be humor/fluff throughout to balance everything. and ofc smut too because who am i if not a whore for filthy felix smut. 😉

word count: 3.0k

summary: ever since you were born, all you've ever known is living a simple life in the small australian coastal town of bridgeport bay. you're content with working at your parent's beachside restaurant angel waves for the rest of your life, and you're happy with your place in the world - you have good friends and an even better boyfriend. that is, until everything comes to a standstill when a familiar face from the past visits town for the summer. and in the wake of his return, lee felix upturns everything you thought you were content with here in your comforting little beach town.

a/n: damn, I'm posting this SO MUCH later than I wanted to... but school just started back a few weeks ago and I've been swamped with uni hw and working full time and balancing a social life in between. 😩 so you'll have to forgive me if updates are kindaaa slow 💀 anywho- yay, they finally made up in this chapter!! things aren't completely resolved, for obvious reasons, but we shall see how things work out very soon~ 🫣

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The entire week after the party at Jeongin’s, you absolutely threw yourself into staying busy. Whether it was helping your parents out at Angel Waves by serving during the weekend dinner rush or studying for your first big exam for your Advanced Environmental Studies class, you were always on the go.

Soon after the drama ensued between you and Chris at the party, he stopped by your place to apologize.

Well, it wasn’t so much of an apology as it was an explanation.

And a long bout of making out afterward, too.

So thankfully, things were patched up between you and your boyfriend again.

That only left the chaos that was stretched between you and Felix.

You hadn’t seen him since your big blow-up at the Ice Cream Hut. And frankly, you weren’t in the mood to see him for a long while.

At least, that’s what you told yourself most of the time.

But when you noticed his absence on the beachfront every morning since the night of the party, you felt your heartstrings pull taut in an agonizing kind of way. When you began to miss the sound of his laugh and the soothing tone of his voice, you could feel the butterflies flit around in your stomach painfully.

Just like that, the two of you had already fallen back into a routine.

But you always knew that things were bound to collapse.

The murky pasts that you shared was like the elephant in the fucking room, and it just so happened to be the night of the party that everything came to a head.

It was late one Thursday night when you found yourself drifting off to thoughts of... him once more. You had worked a full day at AW but even though you were so fucking exhausted, you still had to catch up on some homework.

So there you were sitting at your desk in your bedroom, watching one of your professors drone on about the impact of Australian coral reef bleaching. Usually, you were very interested in your studies. But lately, you could feel your resolve slipping.

You could practically feel your focus going down the drain, as your mind was taken up with thoughts and worries of Lee Felix. You were still angry at him for what he had insinuated about your boyfriend that night. But mostly, you were just sad that he hadn’t fought for you.

That he hadn’t tried everything in his power to keep you from leaving his side at the Ice Cream Hut. You were still angry about the past, too. About the feelings that he had hurt just by leaving your side that fateful day during your graduation ceremony.

Your computer screen flashed, as the lecture you were watching changed to show a table graph that related to what your professor was teaching at that moment. You could feel a headache start to bloom between your temples from how much you had been studying and how worked up you still were about everything.

Taking in a deep sigh, you resigned to giving yourself a five-minute break from studying to regroup and re-focus your mind. Soon, you found yourself outside, standing on your parent’s front porch and gulping in the fresh sea breeze.

With it being so late out, the waning crescent moon was shining high in the sky, casting a silvery, ethereal kind of glow onto the brown sand below. The high tide lapped at the shore, the deep waters of the coastline looking murky and endless to your eyes.

It was as if you were suddenly possessed by a beautiful Selkie that was hidden just in the depths of the ocean, because soon, you were pulling away from the front porch, bare toes dragging through the soft sand as you made your way towards the shoreline.

Soon, you were wading through the chilly water, wiggling your feet against the moving silt just at your heels. The sound of the biting cerulean sea dancing all around you seemed to lull an aching part in your soul. And soon, you could feel yourself irrevocably relaxing.

Almost like, the filmy ocean waters were melting away the pain that you had been carrying onto for so very long. It was lifting the heavy weight off of your shoulders, soothing your broken heart, and trying its very best to mend the tear in the pit of your soul.

“You shouldn’t be out here so late at night- it’s dangerous.”

The deep voice that resonated out quietly behind you caused your entire body to jolt awake. Spine going completely straight, you fixed your eyes on the horizon before you, gaze drifting up to the shining moon above your head.

And when you didn’t reply, the man behind you continued.

“What are you still doing up?”

You were silent for a few beats, fists clenching and unclenching at your sides as you held in your rising anger. You could already feel it boiling up inside of you from having to deal with his presence again. You continued staring out into the sea, watching the black inkiness of the ocean depths.

“I’m fine, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“I don’t think you’re-”

“Just leave me the fuck alone, okay?!” You suddenly burst out, turning around on your heels, gaze catching with his. His blonde tresses were disheveled, and the white tee he was wearing was wrinkled at the collar. He just gaped at you, with an unreadable expression on his face, lips pressed together in a single firm line and jaw ticking only slightly. “You’ve done enough already.”

Then you were walking away without another word. You didn’t have the energy or patience to deal with his bullshit any longer. Your heart was weak enough as-is. You didn’t need any more abuse towards it.

Especially from him.

You didn’t stop trekking through the warm, slick sand until you felt a firm hand wrap around your wrist, gripping on tight and keeping you from moving any further. You stopped in your tracks, breathing coming out in sharp puffs.

“Wait, Y/N, I-”

Ripping your hand out of his grasp, the blood in your veins shimmering from the way his fingers had felt against your skin - all warm and faint - you could feel the anger rising in the corners of your vision. Painting everything in red again. “I hate you, you know that?”

For a few beats, there was utter silence.

And then,

“What?”

Regard focused on your childhood house that wasn’t too far off into the distance now, your shoulders set with a rigid kind of resolve. “You heard me,” you began, voice low as death and tone cold down to the marrow. “I fucking hate you- have since years ago and-”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

Finally getting fed up with his blatant disregard for your feelings, you twisted around to face him again. Coming up into his space, you pressed a finger into his chest, for the moment ignoring the hard muscle you could feel there. Gazing up into his eyes with narrow eyes, you seethed out. “You don’t get to fucking abandon me and disappear out of nowhere, and then come back around here and act like you know what’s best for me. Don’t act like you know me because you don’t- we’ve both changed and you’re too much of a coward to admit that.” Your voice wasn’t raised in anger. Instead, it was deep and gravelly, throbbing with emotion.

Because although you were angry beyond belief, you were also sad out of your mind.

Then without another word, he was wrapping a few fingers around the one you were jamming into his chest, pulling it away from himself and squeezing there gently. “Every day that I was gone- I died a little bit inside. It killed me to be met with utter silence every time I needed someone to turn to. I missed you so much, I would lie awake in my bed late into the night, aching so much I could hardly fucking breathe- I’d wake up and my limbs would shake from all of the agony.” He was staring down at you, and only then did you realize how close the two of you were. Faces just a mere hairsbreadth from each other.

“Why did you do it, Felix?” You found yourself asking, voice breaking at the end of your words as the cloudiness began to form at the edges of your vision. “I needed you, you know that? I needed you so fucking much and you-”

The tears overwhelmed every part of your system after that, shaking your shoulders and making your legs wobbly. And then Felix was wrapping both arms around your waist, holding you close and pressing the side of your cheek against his warm chest.

“I know- I know,” he choked out, sounding like he was on the verge of tears as well. One of his hands rose from your hips, stroking through your strands of hair gently. “I just- couldn’t deal with the fallout of everything. Like a fool- I left without a word and stayed away. And then one day- I got in contact with Jisung again and he mentioned you and I… I lost it and I knew that it was time for me to finally come home.”

You pulled away from his chest at his words, gaping up at him with slightly parted lips. The tears blurred your vision, making him out to be a smudge against the brilliant starry sky. The moon hung low on the horizon, casting a supernatural kind of glow down onto his blonde tresses and milky skin.

“B-But why, Felix?” You needed an answer. A final and definite one. You were sick of beating around the bush, skirting around all of the issues. For years, ever since your colossal blowup, you had been wondering and obsessing over the sole reason why he had done what he had. Why he had caused everything to go to shit in just a single fucking night.

The silence lapsed between the two of you, and after a few beats, his hand was pulling away from your scalp, moving around to your face. A gentle thumb caressing underneath one of your eyes to wipe away the falling tears, he let out a quiet breath, freckled cheeks dusted with the pinkish hue of sentiment. His finger swiped against your cheek like the kiss of a butterfly wing.

“I think you already know why, angel.”

That nickname…

Angel.

The one he used to use on you ever since you were little kids.

It caused something deep inside you to stir. Something unknown and scary to break apart deep inside of your heart - dancing and leaping around in your soul and painting your mind in an effervescent light of happiness and mirth.

Because no one had ever called you that besides him.

And it had been over four years since you had heard him utter it.

Low, sultry voice wrapping around the word, the sound of it floating out of his mouth and tickling your ears delightfully.

His confession came out all whispery, just barely louder than the waves lapping at your feet. They were meant for your ears only, and at that exact moment, you understood everything.

Lee Felix peered down at you like you were his whole world.

His everything,

And so much more.

And he had been the same thing for you, for so very long.

But then Chris stepped into your life and turned your entire world on its axis.

“You really hate him that much, then?”

“I wouldn’t choose him for you if he was the last man on earth.”

“He’s not that bad, Felix.”

“Hell- I’d rather you date Jisung instead!”

Your eyes widened as you stared up at him, the corners of the night sky starting to become clear again as the tears staved off rather slowly. “You seriously can’t mean that.” Although Jisung had been both of your friends since elementary school, the man was notorious for being horrible with the ladies. He couldn’t charm the pants off of a woman if his life depended on it.

But he was one hell of a good guy and the most loyal person you'd ever met. In your mind, he had always taken a close second place next to Felix.

And when Felix moved away and left you in utter silence…

Well, Jisung was there to help you pick up the pieces.

And Chris, too.

But he was your boyfriend.

And boyfriends were much different than best friends.

Felix reached forward, tucking a loose strand of your wild, windswept hair behind one of your ears. “I just think- he’s not the right guy for you, that’s all,” he canted his head to the side in a quizzical way, trying to find the right words that were jumbled up in his mind. “I never liked him, even before the two of you started dating in high school.”

You raised an eyebrow his way, mind buzzing with millions of questions. Ones that had been left unanswered since you were a young seventeen-year-old girl. “What is it about him that irks you so much?”

He shrugged slowly, the hand clutching on a little tighter to your hip, the other fingers going back to card through your hair. “Honestly, it’s hard to pinpoint… he just, rubs me in all of the wrong ways.”

“And do you think every man that dates me will rub you the wrong way?” You asked, playfully shoving at his chest and putting a minuscule amount of distance between the two of you. The moon was out, and with it being so late at night, the breeze was cool against your skin, forcing shivers to course up your spine.

“Yeah, I think so,” he shot you a devilish grin, the kind that spread across his mouth and brightened up his entire face. But then suddenly, his eyes were darkening and his smile was turning into the serious press of a frown. “You’re too perfect to give up to some cunt of a man- I want to see you with someone much better than him. Someone more… competent.”

Poking a finger into the hidden dimple at his cheek, you laughed heartily at the remark. “Well, that’s never gonna happen because no man is 'competent.' They’re all assholes, except some aren’t as bad of ones.”

Just then he was leaning into your space again, breathing in your scent with a wicked smirk slashing against his lips. “And where do I stand on the totem pole of assholes, huh? Am I the lowest of lows or middle ground?”

Your eyes trailed up to the sky above, searching the stars for an answer. “Hmm- I’d say…” You let yourself drawl on, focus coming back onto him, and his face that was illuminated in the deep twilight. Blonde locks messy from the beach breeze at your side and pearly white teeth showing against a pretty pink mouth. Fuck- that mouth. Why had you never noticed it before? It was so perfect - shaped like a springtime rosebud, red and rosy and so fucking kissable and… Wait. Why were you thinking about his lips? “I- uh, I’d say-” You found yourself stuttering over your words in the next beat, breath catching painfully in your chest as you tried to rip your eyes away from those lips.

“It’s alright, I get it. Such an extraordinary man like me is hard to pinpoint.” Those lips ticked up higher into that familiar smirk of his, forcing your heart to skip over itself about a million times in just under a single minute. “Don’t worry, I won’t hold the judging against you.”

That seemed to break the trance that you were in, and soon, your regard was traveling up his face again, past his regal nose and sharp cheekbones, and locking onto his eyes. He stared down at you with those imploringly. They were dark against the night atmosphere, swimming like the swarthy oceans below, with a myriad of colors and feelings. Dark brows suddenly crumpled together, and it looked like he was about to say something in that halted moment. In that tender, delicate space that had suddenly formed between you.

“I need to get back inside. It’s getting late and I still have to finish studying.” You finally said, breaking through the bated silence that had fallen between the two of you in the last few moments.

Felix nodded once, but he didn’t seem all that committed to the idea. Almost like, it killed him to leave that space with you. To abandon that tightrope that the two of you were balancing on just then.

“Yeah, I’m pretty beat myself.” He said, rubbing a nervous hand at the back of his neck.

Backing up slowly, you started to float towards your parent's house once more. As you neared the front porch steps, you heard the rustling of fabric behind you and turned to see Felix had followed you to the house.

He shrugged, once, gaze leaving your form and traveling over to his own parent's house just down the way. “Figured it’d be safest to see you to the door.”

Rolling your eyes at him in annoyance, you took the first two steps up to the front door. You could feel his eyes on you, stare burning two searing holes into your skin with each small movement that you took. Growing further and further away from him.

“See ya tomorrow, bright and early?” His voice carried out between the distance around you, serenading your ears and dancing in the depths of your soul.

You didn’t even spare him a full glance, just tilted your head to the side and offered him a crooked smile. “We’ll see…” You let your words trail off into the misty night, the high clouds above carrying them up and off into the watery distance of the shoreline. Then, you were slinking across the threshold of your house and closing the door behind you with a soft click.

To be continued...

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