#is it obvious that I love talking about my fics and wips?

[stiltonbasket]

can we send you asks about a wife by any other name/svsss in general 👀

PLEASE do 👀👀👀👀

#asks #svsss #a wife by any other name #i love awbaon so much and I'm just starting out #and i'm juggling it with travelers/all my other wips so i won't be able to update as fast as i'd like #but i'd LOVE to talk about it #re: asks about svsss in general they are also very welcome #however i'm not really the best person for literary analysis/meta/theory asks and such #which is probably more than obvious by now #even the asks on this blog that aren't directly connected to my fics are usually...at least somewhat in line with something I've written? #or random fandom headcanons #i am all ears for those 👀 #with that said fire away!

[leofrith]

A Gathering of Fractures for the WIP game!

yesssss this is my mando post-s2 fic that i had originally started after the mando s2 finale left me unsatisfied, annoyed, and depressed. and now that the entirety of mando s3 has done absolutely nothing BUT leave me annoyed and unsatisfied, the urge to pick this back up is so so SO strong. i may be a hater, but nobody can accuse me of complaining while doing nothing about it🙄i adoooore this fic. sure would love to finish it someday!!

it picks up right after din gives the baby away to luke to be trained, and it has everything! din makes a depression den for himself in the old covert on nevarro where most of his people were just slaughtered because his ship got blown up and he has nowhere else to go! sad! he goes back to bounty hunting but keeps taking increasingly dangerous jobs because he's lonely and sad and has no self preservation instinct! he isn't wearing his armor because he feels unworthy of it! he goes to sorgan to visit omera and cries into her lap! he stares at grogu's ball a lot! he takes public transit! he is carrying the darksaber around and he does not! want it!! he thinks about his childhood trauma! he wears a poncho!

my working title when i started writing this thing was "din is off the shits" which. i think says a lot about the general vibe of this fic.

send me a title from my wip list and i'll post a snippet or tell you something about it!

dropping an excerpt under a read more because this is getting long. i think i've maybe posted this before but it's been a long time and it's still one of my favourite passages that i've written:

In his dreams over the years, he would see them: parents with faces he could hardly remember. Their voices had become muted over time, like they were sinking further and further to the bottom of a great body of water, endless. Drowning. Din was 17 years old when he was jolted awake, long past midnight, by the realization that for the first time, he couldn’t hear them anymore. His mother’s mouth moved but her voice was lost to the gunfire and carnage that surrounded them. I love you. He could only hear the blaster shots. 

Days after handing the kid off to the Jedi, when his weary body finally forces him into unconsciousness, Din dreams of that day on Aq Vetina for the first time in years—since long before the child ever came into his care. Even at rest, his mind won’t grant him the mercy of a dreamless sleep.  This time is different, though. This time, when his buir pulls him from that hole in the ground, he finds that his parents are still there, alive and unharmed. But when Din calls for them, they only stand there, motionless and stone-faced.  His buir takes flight—he doesn’t ask for permission this time—and Din rages in his arms. The armor that was once a comfort is now a barrier, cold and unyielding. The child’s screaming sobs are swallowed up by the battle that still rages on the ground below and he watches as his parents’ bodies shrink and eventually fade into the smoke along with everything else.  They won’t even meet his gaze.  When Din snaps awake, sweat-drenched and tear-stained and most notably, alone, the meaning of the dream isn’t lost on him. Din was 17 when he realized he could no longer remember the sound of his mother’s voice. He wonders how long it will take for Grogu to forget his.

#i love this fic this fic is my baby ugh #i also need to rework a lot of my original plans for it because cara originally featured pretty heavily in the first part which. #no longer works due to obvious g*na related reasons #i could talk about this wip foreverrrrrrr #answer #reiverreturns #ask games #this is a writing tag

[selfcarecap]

Never Have I Ever [p.p]

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: When Peter meets you at college and you two bond over your lack of sexual experience, you quickly become the best friend he’s ever had. But while he falls madly in love with you, he doesn’t know if you feel the same. You hold his hand when you’re out together, talk to him about the vibrator you want to buy and bless him with that beautiful look in your eyes that is reserved only for him… yet he’s not sure if you see more than a friend in him. Little does he know, you’re wondering the same about him, hoping for the same outcome.

Warnings: smut (all first time, oral f + m receiving, dry humping (semi-public? but it’s completely uninterrupted and unseen and in a remote location lol), masturbation (f with a sex toy and m with the reader’s underwear), vaginal sex – the second half of this is basically all smut), a sprinkle of jealous Peter, Professor Garfield lol, a little bit of angst ig bc Peter keeps doubting himself and thinks he’s a pervert but he’s just dumb as shit and oblivious, (all Peter’s pov <3), fic starts off with an awkward and embarrassing story lol, alcohol/drunk!Peter, (btw if first year of college sounds a little young to you you can always imagine they just took a break between hs and college), idk how college works in the usa, also I mention Peter's enhanced senses but it's not a Spiderman fic at all lol

Word Count: 23k omg, the longest thing I’ve ever written (if that’s too long for you i’ve put four ‘dividers’ in total so it’s split into 4 more or less equally long parts (the first is like 4k, second is 7k, then 4k again and the last is 8k) but of course you can ignore that and just read all of it in one go, all 23k are in this post, it’s a one shot)

It's finally here! Thank you for all the love I received for the teaser and just talking about this fic already 💘 This has been on my mind for so so long and I’ve been (sporadically and inconsistently) writing it since like September. I’m so glad it’s finally finished, this was one of my favourite wips I‘ve ever worked on, I really loved writing Peter and the reader and their dynamic and experiences and I hope you love reading it just as much 💖

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒐𝒏𝒆 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ･:*:･｡

It’s Peter’s first week of college and so far he barely knows anyone. The guys in the rooms next to Peter’s are cool, but he figures it wouldn’t hurt to know a few more people, so he decides to go to this party he’s been hearing about all week.

The party is exactly how he imagined it; loud music, drinking games, a pretty girl sitting next to him. So pretty that he doesn’t dare look at you for too long because he’s worried you’ll catch him staring and think he’s being weird.

The game you’re all playing started as a simple never have I ever, but somehow people are now telling their funniest sex stories. Peter doesn’t realise it’s part of the game that everyone tells a sex story until it’s your turn and he notices how the last few people all told a story, one after the other, going around the circle you’re all sitting in.

His heart starts thumping harder in his chest. He doesn’t have a sex story to tell. But if he gets up now it will be obvious that he’s avoiding his turn, right? 

Fuck.

Besides, he wants to listen to your story. He just has to hope that his usually clever brain will help him come up with something when it’s his turn.

“Most memorable sex experience…” you hum in thought as you lightly drum the bottle in your hands against your lips. “Oh wait, this one’s funny. The guy I was with asked me if I peed myself when he took off my underwear because he didn‘t know that women get wet when they‘re turned on. I explained it to him but he wouldn’t believe me. 

“He was sweet about it and told me it happens to the best of us — and that he sometimes pees himself too. So at that point, I just saw it as a second chance from the universe to show me what this guy was like and I left.” 

The students around you laugh and comment on the story and as you look over at Peter a few seconds later he realises the other people are doing the same. 

They‘re expecting him to tell a sex story now. His mouth goes dry and his brain is empty. Think. Think. Think. Think of something. Anything. 

But he has nothing.

You speak up again, pointing at the guy next to Peter, “Oh my god, Brandon, you remember that story you told me earlier? You need to tell that one, that was the funniest thing I‘ve ever heard.”

A weight is lifted off of Peter‘s shoulders when the attention simply shifts to the guy next to him.

What felt like overthinking for hours when he couldn‘t come up with anything to say was probably only a short moment, less than five seconds, and not a single person noticed that they skipped over Peter. He lets out a breath of relief as other people tell stories and no one demands anything from Peter. 

He keeps glancing at you, trying to figure out if what you did was deliberate or not. 

The only thing he‘s gotten from you so far is a second of eye contact, your face neutral but your eyes holding something positive. The next time you stand up to refill your drink, Peter follows you into the kitchen.

You smile at him when you see him enter, offering some of the diet coke you‘re pouring into your cup to him. “No thanks,” Peter says, watching you fill the rest of your drink with rum. 

“I don‘t know if you did that on purpose or not but uh.. thanks,” he says, clearing his throat after, annoyed at himself for sounding so nervous. You’re gorgeous, but he doesn’t even know you yet. You’re a stranger, yet he finds himself caring about what you think of him.

You muster him for a few seconds before you realise what he’s talking about.

“Oh. You mean during the.. the sex stories? That was no big deal. You just looked a little uncomfortable so I tried my best to get the attention to shift to someone else,” you smile.

“Thanks, that... that was really kind. Although I was kind of hoping it wasn‘t obvious how nervous I was. I just don‘t have any special or funny sex stories to tell... or any sex stories at all,” he avoids eye contact when he says it but you immediately get what he means. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” You say, taking a step forward to stand closer to him, his cheeks heating up. He nods.

“The story I told? That was completely made up. I‘ve never had sex with anyone either. And I‘m not ashamed of that fact, I mean I‘m so young and there‘s nothing wrong with waiting or honestly I‘ve just never... been in that type of situation with a boy…”

“I get it. You don‘t have to explain yourself. Same boat,” he smiles and nudges your shoulder but regrets it instantly.

Nudging your shoulder? He has never nudged anyone‘s shoulder. Especially not the shoulder of a pretty girl he just met. 

You don‘t take any notice of it though, much to Peter‘s relief, and you continue. 

“Even if I personally don‘t care how old anyone is when they have their first time, I just felt nervous saying it in a room full of frat boys. I know this year has barely started but so far all the frat boys I’ve met live up to their reputation and I didn‘t want them making any stupid comments. 

“If I was my ideal, confident self - or just a little tipsier - I probably would have just said that I don’t have any sex stories to tell but... I don‘t know. I was nervous.”

“I get that. That‘s exactly how I felt too. Only I wasn‘t creative enough to think of a story. My mind just blanked, I must have looked crazy when it was my turn to say something. You were calm though, the story seemed as real as all the others... maybe even more real, I mean what you said sounds very realistic to me considering how little most men know about women’s bodies.” 

“Yeah,” you giggle, “But you didn‘t look nervous either. It‘s just that I knew I might not be the only one too nervous to admit that I don‘t have any experience so I was hyper-aware of it, I guess.”

“Okay, I‘m glad. Thanks again.” The conversation is slowly dying but he doesn’t want it to end yet.

He holds his hand in front of him, “I’m Peter by the way. Biochemistry and computer science.”

His fingers tremble for a second. Who introduces himself like that? God, he’s messing this up before it even started.

But you grin, trying not to laugh and tell him your name and introduce yourself in the same way, “Oceanography and computer science.”

He takes a second to release the breath that he was holding in, “Oceanography? Wow, that sounds really interesting. You‘ll have to tell me more about that.” 

“It is. And I will once college starts. I‘m really excited.” 

“Me too. And computer science? That means we‘ll probably have a few classes together right?”

“Probably. Do you have your schedule yet?”

He takes out his phone and shows you the picture he took of it, and you lean in to look at it so closely that he can smell your lovely perfume.

“I don‘t have it on my phone but I recognise that professor’s name,” you point at a name on the screen, “I‘m in that class too, I heard professor Garfield is really good. I have two classes with him.”

And that‘s how you two end up talking all night. Peter walks you home and you realise your dorm rooms are merely minutes away from each other and you make a vow to meet each other again. He really hopes you don’t forget about him, or that you weren’t just being nice.

Peter falls asleep with a smile on his face and you on his mind. 

*

The next day, he realises with disappointment that you didn’t exchange numbers. He would like to text you and meet you in front of the lecture hall so it would be less nerve-wracking to go to his first-ever college lecture.

It would help to have someone he already knows with him and in case you were nervous he’d love to be there to calm you down too; make you feel less alone–you can do this together.

He knows one of his first classes on Tuesday is one that he shares with you. But he hopes he can see you on Monday to be each other’s support, or at least to see you for five minutes between classes.

He looks for you all day, but doesn’t see you again.

He’s giddy all night, knowing he’s definitely going to see you tomorrow. His plan is to get up extra early and casually and totally coincidentally lounge around in the hallway that your room is in, and then you can go to class together.

But one missed alarm later he‘s running through the building, trying to find the lecture hall that was shown to him during freshers week, but he didn’t quite manage to remember each one of the hundreds of rooms.

Time is running out and he has one minute until the lecture starts. He runs around the next corner and finally finds the hall he’s supposed to be in.

There are hundreds of students though, and he seems to be one of the last; he can’t even see if there are any seats left.

While his eyes scan the rows for an empty seat–but more importantly for you–he sees some movement directed at him. A wave.

His eyes travel down the arm that's waving at him and soon he’s making eye contact with you. He’s only met you once but he can’t stop a huge smile from taking over his entire face.

Peter blushes while he’s walking up the steps, on his way to you, but once he’s close he can see your bright smile and he’s immediately reminded of why he likes you so much.

“Hi,” Peter plops down next to you on the first seat of the row. You lean in and Peter’s breath gets caught in his throat when he realises you’re hugging him–just a friendly side hug, but it’s a hug nevertheless.

He takes his water out of his bag, trying to calm himself down by focussing on the cool drink running down his throat. It does clear his mind, the water, but he’s more and more comfortable with every second that he sits next to you. Your aura is so kind and calming, and he finds his shoulders losing the tension as you start talking to him.

“I thought you weren’t going to make it or something. We forgot to exchange numbers so I found your Instagram and was gonna message you there. But you‘re private so I couldn‘t.”

Ever since you said goodbye the night after the party, Peter has been worrying that that was all. That it was just an in-the-moment type of thing and you wouldn’t think it was anything special – or worse, you’d forget about him. But now you’re here, keeping a spot for him, telling him you’ve been thinking about him and wanted to message him. The warmth in his chest spreads when you smile at him.

And sure, just because you remember him doesn’t mean you’re best friends, but it confirms that Peter isn’t the only one who thought you had a connection that was worth remembering.

Peter most definitely also stalked your Instagram. It’s public but he didn’t want you thinking he was weird for spam-liking all your pictures–which he definitely wanted to do but he stopped himself in time. 

He put a timer on Instagram for the app to remind him when it’s been twenty minutes of looking at your pictures. Not that there were enough to be scrolling for twenty minutes straight – he simply enjoyed looking at you.

He takes his phone out and accepts the follow request you sent him and follows you back.

“Put your number in,” you place your phone in front of him, opened on a new contact card that Peter fills out with his number and name. You look at it and add a <3 behind his name and Peter prays he’s not blushing as hard as it feels.

You text him You up? and if his cheeks weren’t red before then they definitely are now. He can tell you’re just teasing but the fact that you’re already comfortable enough to joke around with him makes him grin.

He feels like he can be himself with you and you’re doing the same. You’re not holding back with showing Peter that you like him and it makes him feel good about himself. 

But his smile fades when he hears your next words

“The professor is so hot, I have no idea how I‘ll concentrate. I talked to him before I sat down and he has a really nice voice too. And that accent… But wait till he turns around and you see his face – or you could just stare at his ass.” 

Peter doesn’t know why it feels like someone stabbed him right in the heart. And when he sees you further staring at the man, it’s like that knife is being pulled out of his chest and Peter bleeds out. 

“I-it’s not even that big,” Peter tries.

You look at him and now he feels stupid for having said that. 

“Butts don‘t have to be big to be hot. Little booties matter. And they’re really cute sometimes.”

“W-well yes, of course, but.. he‘s really not that hot,” Peter says, and then Professor Garfield turns around, “...okay he is that hot.”

“Told you,” you sing, a smile on your face, and he can’t be mad at you when you’re looking at him like that. He couldn’t be mad at you no matter what you did. While Professor Garfield, or Andrew–as he tells you all to call him–starts the lecture, Peter tries to figure out what’s got him so mad.

Yes, of course you’re pretty. You’re gorgeous. But that doesn’t mean that he has to have a crush on you immediately. Just because you’re a girl and he’s a guy doesn’t mean that this has to go beyond a friendship. Men and women can be just friends. He can’t just fall in love with the first pretty woman who’s nice to him.

Okay, maybe he already has a crush on you. So what? Who can blame him?

But Peter doesn’t want to rush anything with you. He’ll give you the time to figure out what you feel for him, and he’ll just follow your lead. He may think you already like him as much as he likes you, but it’s still only the second time you’re ever seeing each other. 

That and he just doesn’t want to overthink it all and end up losing the first person at college who genuinely feels like someone he could be friends with.

He tries to ignore how you giggle at every joke the professor makes and tries to focus on the warmth of you next to him instead. Not too much though, he’s already let your teasing get to his head and maybe even to a body part further down.

Even if it means he won’t have to witness you laughing at Professor Garfield’s jokes anymore, Peter is sad when the lecture is over. It’s the only lecture he has today and therefore also the only one he has with you today.

As you pack your things and people swarm out of the lecture hall, you and Peter stay back, taking it slow.

“What’s your next class?” You ask, looking him right in the eyes–like any normal person–but he’ll really have to get used to that. He can’t lose his mind every time you just look at him. But he's so attracted to you.

“I, um, I no. I mean, I don’t have any other classes today.”

You smile unexpectedly, “Cool, me neither. You wanna do something? We could get lunch together.”

You say it with such ease, showing your interest in him like you don’t know how it’s making Peter feel warm and bubbly inside.

Even if Peter still gets nervous around you, simply because he wants to impress you and doesn’t want to fuck this up, he realises quickly that he has no reason to be. 

Your friendship blooms effortlessly and quickly. 

A week later you’re texting like you’ve been best friends for years and he finds himself too happy around you to worry about what he’s saying or how he’s acting. You like him the way he is and he can feel it deeply and confidently. 

Yes, he still stutters a lot around you - but he does that around most people, to be fair - and once you part ways for the day he overanalyses every little thing you’ve said to him, overthinks every little touch of yours for some form of affection that is more than platonic.

And it’s hard, figuring out whether you like him as more than a friend.

But this friendship is so new and so exciting that Peter thinks it makes him just as happy as an average relationship in the honeymoon phase would. So even if he does crave more intimacy with you, it’s hard to complain when he has a friend like you.

*

You show up at Peter’s door at midnight on a Friday. His sleep schedule has been surprisingly healthy for a college freshman so if anyone else disturbed him when he was already in pyjamas, he’d be annoyed.

But with you, he’s ecstatic. He’s awake immediately, grinning from ear to ear at your surprise visit. You never left his mind but he thought he’d have to wait until tomorrow to see you again.

Peter is more than aware of the contrast between your done up state and him in his ratty old pyjamas. You’ve seen him in pyjamas before and he knows better than to think you’d judge him, but he can’t help but to want to at least try and match you when you’re looking as gorgeous as you are.

“Oh sorry, I thought you’d still be up,” is the first thing you say, ready to leave if you’re bothering him in any way.

“No, no, I am, don’t worry. What’s up?” Peter asks, trying to look cool as he leans against his door frame. He ignores how it hurts like hell where his elbow meets a sharp corner.

“Well… I was gonna ask if you wanna go watch a movie with me,” you give him a charming smile not knowing he’d say yes no matter what you asked of him.

“Now?”

“Uh, yes. Now. But it’s fine if not, genuinely I won’t be mad. I can see that you had other plans,” you smile at his pyjamas.

“No. Don’t worry, I’d love to go. Do you have tickets or…?” Jealousy bubbles up inside Peter when he realises you might have been planning to go with someone else. With some other guy. Maybe he bailed on you and Peter is the second option (which he would still be grateful for, but he hates the thought of you with another guy).

“No, but I checked online and they have plenty of tickets left. It’s the last day they’re playing this film. The one I told you about, the horror one.”

“Oh God.” He’s trying to pretend that you still need to convince him when really Peter just needs a second to realise he was just overthinking again. He is your first choice. Not another guy.

“Pleeeease, Peter,” you grab his arm and pout. 

Peter has been convinced since the moment you showed up at his door.

“Give me a second,” he smiles and you grin back, “Really? You’re the best,” you kiss his cheek enthusiastically and he goes back into his room fast enough to hide his blush.

He picks out an outfit, brushes his teeth and puts on deodorant just in case.

You take him to the cinema with your hand in his. Peter knows it’s not a romantic gesture, you’re just treating him like you’d treat a female friend, but his brain doesn’t know the difference. He’s just happy to be touching you.

When you buy the tickets the guy at the movie theatre shows you the available seats on his screen. He points to one of those love seats where two seats are joined together so you can cuddle.

You nod and when the guy gives Peter a congratulatory smile, Peter’s cheeks heat up. The guy probably thinks you and Peter are a couple. It’s not just good for Peter’s ego and the fake scenarios with you that he’ll imagine before bed, but it’s also better for the guy. Peter saw the way he was eyeing you, and Peter doesn’t know what he would have done if the guy had asked for your number.

“We can cuddle,” you grin as you sit down and pat the seat next to you. You’re almost alone in the theatre, you could sit anywhere you want but you want to be close to him.

While you wait for the trailers to start you take Snapchat videos with Peter, asking him if you can send them to your friends at home. His heart swells when you say that you’ve told them about him.

He takes pictures of you looking all pretty and perfect and he wonders if it would be too much to set it as his phone wallpaper. Your head is on his shoulder as you scroll through the pictures that he just took of you and your perfume is hypnotising.

How is every little thing about you so captivating? Peter has never met anyone like you.

He’s fucking scared during the movie, but with his eyes mostly closed he manages to be the guy you can hold on to during the creepy scenes. Your fingers around his bicep squeeze every time there is a jumpscare and at some point he has to force himself to watch the film after all if he doesn’t want to get hard from your touch. He knows it’s pathetic, but he can’t help it.

You look beautiful in the light of the stars as you two walk home, your hand still around his arm, gushing about the film and thanking him for watching it with you despite the spontaneous change of his plans.

You spend some time in the common area by your dorms. It’s late and everyone else seems to be at some party elsewhere or sleeping. You cling on to Peter, still jumpy from the horror film and he nearly asks you if you want to sleep in his bed.

He nearly says it about five times, but he can’t quite get the words out. He doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression, even if you may be about to ask the same thing.

Peter sits there nervously, gulping as he’s about to ask. He really will say it this time. But before he opens his mouth he hears your deep breaths and notices how your body has gone slack against his side.

He kisses the top of your head in content and soon, sleep finds Peter too. He doesn’t have to dream about being close to you because it’s already his reality.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒕𝒘𝒐 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ･:*:･｡

It’s a few weeks into the semester and it’s become a routine for you two to study together. Whether you’re helping each other with the classes you share, or silently working on other things and enjoying each other’s company, your study sessions have even managed to make studying a rather fun part of college. 

Especially when you’re both sitting on Peter’s bed, and your knees or legs or arms are always touching.

You’re not focussed today, scrolling around on your phone instead of studying. You throw your phone to the bed at some point and you hug your legs to your chest in thought.

“You think Andrew will let me suck his dick? For a better score?”

Peter’s heart stops beating for a second. 

You haven’t kissed, you haven’t said anything that should have led Peter to think that this is more than friendship, but it seemed like there could be something in the future. Apparently, you’re not even considering it.

“Who’s Andrew?” He asks, mouth dry and voice weak.

“Professor Garfield.”

“Oh. Well, I-I think that‘s illegal.”

“Is it though?” You tilt your head and give him a deliberately incredulous look.

“Yes.”

“Not if no one finds out. It’s don’t break the rules or don‘t get caught, Peter.”

He’s distracted by you saying his name for a moment. There’s nothing he loves hearing more.

But he has to stop you from doing… that. He can’t entirely tell how serious you are, but he has to make sure to convince you that it’s a bad idea.

“No offence, but what makes you believe you’ll be good enough for him to give you a better score? If you’ve never… you know, done anything like it.” He remembers your conversation from the first time you met, and if you haven’t given anyone a blowjob since then, he knows it would be your first time. Your first time can’t be with a professor, even if Peter disregards the fact that he wants to be the only guy you have sex with, it really is a bad idea.

“I’m a young and pretty student and he’s a kinda old guy. He’s like 40. So I’m sure that I’ll be enough for him.”

Peter doesn’t say anything for a moment, thrown off by your casual tone.

“Don’t you think so?” you press, teasing in your voice.

��No- of course you’re pretty. You’re beautiful,” he smiles, pressing his lips together. 

“Aww,” you sit up and press a kiss to his cheek, “So are you, Pete.” You hold on to his shoulder as you lower yourself into his lap, your butt right next to his thighs and your upper body resting on his legs, and his breath hitches. 

“Well if you think I need practice, then.. I could practise on you first.”

“Practise w-what on me?” He asks, feeling your hands on his abs.

“Going down on a guy,” you say, looking up at him. Now the feeling in Peter’s belly changes from raging jealousy into something else of equal passion. He’s thought about you doing that before, (and pushed the thought out of his mind as quickly as it appeared) but hearing you suggest it makes a new flame of desire light up in him. 

The first conversation you ever had was about sex. But anytime you mention anything sexual, Peter doesn’t know how to act.

“I- I mean. I’m not- I feel like, maybe that’s not—”

“Don’t worry, I’m joking. I won’t actually suck that guy’s dick. I just don’t wanna do this stuff right now,” you sigh, sitting up and closing your textbook.

“How about we do something to distract you for the night, and then tomorrow I’ll help you with the next assignment,” he suggests, relief still flooding through his body, happy that you don’t actually want to suck your professor’s dick.

“You’d do that?” 

“Of course. I’ll always help you when I can but I especially owe you after you did my homework last week when I fell asleep.”

You sit up, “I told you it was no big deal. It was just multiple choice and all I did was copy my answers.”

“Yeah but if I hadn’t woken up then I would have missed the deadline and failed.”

“I know you’d do the same for me. And besides, you looked so peaceful sleeping. I couldn’t wake you up to do some boring computational linguistics quiz at eleven pm.”

Peter smiles at the memory of last week. When he’s with you, he doesn’t want to sleep, he wants to spend time with you. But he was tired and you were studying something Peter couldn’t help you with anyway, and he’s so comfortable around you that he just drifted off to sleep because he trusts you – he wouldn’t be okay with being unconscious next to just anyone.

“Well, it was still a very kind thing to do.”

Not sure what you’re doing yet, you go to your dorm room so you can change out of your sweats and into something prettier–even though Peter thinks you could wear sweatpants 24/7, and you’d still outshine everyone. He nearly stays outside but with a confused look you ask him what he’s doing outside and he reluctantly comes in.

Picking out an outfit, you pull off your shirt with no warning and even if he can only see your back an “Oh my God” leaves Peter’s mouth immediately, followed by a quiet, “Sorry,” as he turns around.

“Don’t worry. I’m just changing. It’s just my body, you can look.”

Despite your nonchalant words, Peter can hear your heart beating loudly and frantically in your chest. He tries not to let it get to him, it doesn’t have to mean that you like him. Maybe you’re just realising that you don’t want a boy to see you half-naked after all but you don’t want to say it now after confidently assuring him it was okay. 

Peter sits down on your bed, turned away from you even though it takes all the willpower he can muster.

A few moments later you jump onto the bed next to him, “So, what are we doing tonight?”

“Do?” He asks, still dazed from seeing your naked back, “Oh do, yeah. Uh yes, we can do something.” 

You giggle, looking at him expectantly. That’s when Peter remembers he was the one who suggested that you go out tonight.

“Oh-well yeah, I was thinking we could take a walk along the river, I heard they have these carnival booths up every Friday night.”

Going out in the evenings has become your and Peter’s thing. Sure, many people–especially college students–go out in the evening. But with you, it feels different. It feels special.

Illuminated by the streetlights and the LED glow from the booths, you and Peter play a few rounds of ring toss and throwing darts at balloons. You both swear it’s rigged because neither of you win anything.

You eat popcorn while Peter gets cotton candy and once again you hold Peter’s hand throughout most of your trip. It’s become a habit of yours, apparently meaningless as a romantic gesture, but platonically it means everything to Peter. You like him enough to constantly initiate physical touch; plus, he’s never seen you hold hands with any of your other friends.

Still, Peter is forever wishing for more. Sometimes he looks at you and wonders how he’s managed not to kiss you yet. But his fear grows with every day; the closer you get the harder it will be to confess his feelings because the risk of ruining something beautiful keeps getting bigger. 

He’s never been this attracted to anyone but he also thinks he’s never had a friendship as good as yours. He simply can’t risk something good, something beautiful, something that makes him as happy as he’s ever been. Your friendship is strong but he’s scared you wouldn’t be able to come back from Peter confessing his feelings for you and you not feeling the same.

It could weird you out, you could take pity on Peter and see him in a different light, or worst of all, you could think he’s been taking advantage of you. He’s never touched you anywhere that would be reserved only for a lover but you two are quite close. You’ve cuddled a few times, or just a few hours ago you were changing in front of him – he doesn’t want you thinking he intentionally got any sexual gratification out of it and for you to view him differently.

He already feels bad enough when nothing but the image of you clouds his thoughts whenever he jerks off. He can’t help it anymore. He used to be able to think of something else or simply watch porn but now that he’s with you so often and you’re so perfect, you’re like an intrusive thought; whenever he’s naked, there’s nothing on his mind but you, just like when a song is stuck in your head – there’s no easy way of getting rid of it.

Peter has never been one to feel shame after masturbating. But if you only liked him as a friend and ever found out what he thinks about when he’s fucking his fist late at night, he doesn’t even want to know what your opinion of him would change into. But the mental image of you alone makes Peter cum so hard, over and over, that he can’t stop, even if guilt plagues him right after as he cleans up the mess he’s made.

He looks down at your intertwined hands while you’re walking home across campus. He wonders what you’d do if you knew that the hand you’re holding right now jerks Peter off every night without fail, thinking precisely of how your hand could replace Peter’s.

On your way home, you walk past a frat house, the vibration of the music reaching Peter’s chest even from the outside.

“Shit, Chloe told me about this party. I forgot I said I’d be there.”

“Who’s that?”

“She’s one of my friends from an Oceanography class. Do you mind if we go in? Just for half an hour.”

It’ll definitely distract Peter from thinking about you in a way that he’s not sure you’d be comfortable with.

You’re dragged away by some of your girlfriends as soon as you enter. They all say something about Peter but you quickly shrug off what they’re saying about you two always being together. He can’t tell if it’s a genuine no or just that feeling of embarrassment that you get when your friends tease you about your crush.

So your friends see it too? The indescribable chemistry between you two? Even with his enhanced hearing, he can’t hear the rest of your conversation because some of his own friends are urging him to go play beer pong with them.

Peter sees you every twenty minutes or so and you wave or smile at him and check up on him every time you walk past. Spending time with your other friends is good for both of you, but it’s also good to know that he’s still on your mind, just like you’re on his.

“Help me find the bathroom,” you tell Peter the next time you see him. He’s getting a little bored at this party so he assumes you also want to escape.

You walk into the bathroom together and Peter doesn’t realise that you actually just need to pee until he sees you contemplating on pulling your underwear down or not, “Can you wait outside?”

“Of course.”

Peter has no interest in being in the bathroom with you while you pee, but the fact that you nearly let him stay in there with you shows him once again how comfortable you are around him. He’s smiling like an idiot, standing by the wall opposite the bathroom until he hears your “You can come in.”

After you’ve washed your hands you sit on the edge of the bathtub and pat the space next to you for Peter to join you and you chat about whatever comes to your mind. So you did want a break from the party too, and Peter is glad to provide that.

“What song is that?” Peter asks. The music is loud enough for you to clearly hear it even upstairs in the bathroom.

“I don’t know, I’ll shazam it. You’re right, it sounds good.”

When you unlock your phone the screen is filled with the picture of a vibrator. You ignore it and go to Shazam the song, but Peter can’t let you off like that.

You always get to tease him so he smirks when he can finally get you back, “Wait wait wait,” he takes your phone from you, lifting it high in case you want to take it from him.

“What is this?” He asks, smiling, teasing you lovingly and in good fun but you look at him as if he’s talking about the most boring thing ever, not embarrassed in the slightest, but once more, that could be a good sign; another sign of your close relationship.

“Oh, it’s this vibrator. But it’s way too expensive for me.”

Peter licks his lips, trying not to freak out. He doesn’t know why he thought talking to you about a vibrator would be a good idea. But he tries to appear as calm as you, “Why is it expensive? What’s so special about it?”

“Well, it basically sucks your clit. But I don’t want to spend over 100 dollars on something like that when I can just go out and find a guy to suck my clit within like five minutes. It’s all those guys on campus think about, I swear. I’m glad you’re not like that, Pete” you smile at him and put your head on his shoulder, completely catching him off guard with your words.

He won’t be able to jerk off without thinking about you for days now; meaning he won’t be able to jerk off for days. Do you mean you’d hate knowing that Peter thinks about you sexually or do you just mean that there’s no pressure with Peter? And that any other male friend would have asked for sex by now?

Peter knows he’s not a perv, but he doesn’t know if you’d say the same if you knew you were the protagonist of his spank bank. 

“Wait, actually, a friend told me they’re way cheaper if you buy them in-store and they’ll have more to choose from... will you go with me?” You ask him with a big fake pout.

“To a.. a sex shop?”

“I don’t want to go alone. And you’re my best friend.”

He can’t say no to you after you call him that, even if having a constant reminder of what you use to masturbate is going to kill him.

“O-okay. But why can’t you just go with your friend?”

“I’m not as comfortable around her as I am around you. Unless you really don’t want to.”

“No no I’ll go,” he nods and you grin.

“I’m sure they’ll have something for you too,” you say with raised eyebrows. And even though his hand and the thoughts about you make him cum hard and fast enough that he doesn’t feel like he needs a sex toy, your words help him feel a little less guilty. You telling him to go buy a sex toy suggests that you’re not grossed out when thinking of him masturbating, so maybe you’d understand that he’s got to do what he’s got to do sometimes, and you actually wouldn’t completely hate him if you found out what goes on in Peter’s mind when he jerks off.

“But we’re not going before we finish our assignment.”

“Deal,” you shake his hand with a laugh and join your friends downstairs to play the last few rounds of drinking games before you go home.

You’re good, but the other team is better. 

You didn’t really want to drink tonight and are only playing for fun but Peter likes following the rules so someone has to have the drinks. You assure him he doesn’t have to but Peter downs all the drinks for you and the ones for himself, relying on his enhanced abilities to drink them like water. He has one drink and then five more and when you two leave the party he realises he’s drunk.

You insist on taking him to your room to make sure he’s okay but Peter is a funny drunk so he doesn’t feel too bad. If he gets to sleep in your bed he could never feel bad, and knowing you you would never offer if you weren’t okay with it.

“I like when you take care of me,” Peter smiles at you when you tuck him into bed and he takes your hand in his, “And I like when we hold hands.”

“I like it too,” you kiss his forehead and Peter practically swoons. You were holding his hand the whole way back home from the party, like one of those people keeping a toddler on a leash and he’ll probably be embarrassed tomorrow morning but right now he’s just grateful for the constant affection.

You seem no bit annoyed that you have to deal with a drunk Peter, you’re just spending time with your best friend (he hasn’t stopped thinking about you calling him that) who happens to be drunk.

“Will you need a bucket?” You ask as you pull down your skirt and leave on your cropped shirt.

“A what?” He asks, heart beating harder as he stares at your half-naked form.

“Do you think you’ll throw up?” You ask.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

When you walk over to the bed Peter sees everything in slow motion. You stand next to the bed for a few seconds, tapping on your phone, and Peter admires your beautiful body while he can.

“You know how much I love your legs? They look so good,” he says, and he can’t tell if he’s embarrassingly drunk right now or not. He just knows that your legs are perfect. You’re perfect. And that’s something his sober self would wholeheartedly agree with.

You smile and turn off the lights, leaving the window open so Peter can get some fresh air but it also leaves enough light for Peter to admire your legs some more.

“Scoot over,” you tell him and get in bed with him.

“No, you don’t understand how incredible your legs are.” He gets one last glance at them before you pull the blanket over your body.

“Thank you, Peter,” you smile, and he sees by the crinkles next to your eyes that it’s genuine and maybe you don’t hate him looking at your body as much as he’s been worrying you would.

You talk a little more but minutes later the conversation consists more of yawning than talking and Peter sobers up when he realises he will be sleeping next to you. It’s his first time sleeping in a woman’s bed, and he’s glad it’s yours.

He’s taken naps next to you and there was that one time you slept next to each other on the sofa, but this is different. You’re alone in your room, right next to each other, in one bed, sharing one blanket. He can feel the warmth of your half-naked body and before he knows it your familiar presence calms him down enough to fall asleep quickly.

*

When Peter wakes up next to you the following morning, it takes a few moments for it to all come back to him.

He knows there’s no way you slept with each other, Peter was kinda drunk, neither of you have even confessed any feelings and you wouldn’t have a one night stand the first time you have sex. 

But when he gently lifts the blanket, making sure he doesn’t wake you up, he’s met with the sight of your lovely belly and heavenly thighs, and Peter thinks from the outside it could look like you had sex. 

Not that anyone is going to see, but two hormonal college students, both half-naked, waking up next to each other.. It screams something obvious and that thing is not that you two are merely friends.

The thought of it alone makes Peter flustered and he shifts uncomfortably. His eyes widen when he realises that his morning wood is pushed right against your ass. He pulls his hips back as quickly as he can, waking you up in the process.

You’re facing away from him, and the first thing you notice is your and Peter’s interlaced hands. His cheeks warm up as he notices them too. His arm is resting above your head on the pillow, fingers next to your face where they’re loosely intertwined with yours.

He doesn’t remember waking up in the night, so you must have somehow ended up holding hands in your sleep, both finding your way to the other even while unconscious.

You squeeze his hand and twist your body to look at Peter’s face. “Hi,” you mumble, smiling sleepily.

“Hi,” Peter says, opening his mouth minimally just in case he has bad morning breath.

Your eyes flit across his face with a look he can’t decipher. “Goodnight,” you say a few seconds later and you lie back down in your tired daze, pushing against Peter and pulling his arm over your waist.

“Wait,” you turn around again, “Are you okay? Got a hangover or anything?”

“I’m good, thanks. Go back to sleep,” he smiles, partially because he knows you still need rest but also because he wants you to go back to sleep so he can take care of himself. It’s becoming painful how hard he is.

“Okay. But stay, you’re warm.”

He most definitely is warm, he knows he’s blushing like crazy.

You pull the blanket further up your body and scoot back against Peter, and the way your ass pushes against his crotch nearly makes him moan. He doesn't know how you're not noticing what's going on.

He scoots his hips back as far as he can and waits a few minutes until you’ve drifted off to sleep again. He carefully removes himself from you and goes to your bathroom. You have a bathtub, big enough for both of you, he thinks, with a showerhead on the wall.

Before he can even bring himself to care about the temperature, Peter turns on the water and pulls his clothes off in a hurry, wrapping a hand around himself before he’s even really in the shower.

He leans a hand against the wall, resting his head against it as his other hand speeds up, jerking himself off while he thinks about you in the other room. You, so pretty, so caring, so sexy in just your underwear and a short shirt. You, not knowing that Peter is about to cum in your shower, so close to you, thinking about you.

The water is only barely louder than the sound his hand makes against his cock, and he bites his lip to stop any moans from coming out.

Peter cums when he hears the squeaking of your bed; you’re getting up, you could walk in any second. While he cums, Peter’s mind wanders to you on your knees, his dick sliding in and out of your mouth as you look up at him with your gorgeous eyes.

He washes his cum off the bathroom tiles on the wall and tries to wash the guilty feeling off himself.

Suddenly the door opens slightly, “Hey can I come in? I won’t look, I just wanna brush my teeth.”

Peter makes sure to slide the shower door to the side so it’s covering him and he tells you to come in.

He peeks out of the shower and you smile at him through the mirror. He catches your eyes drifting lower but you can barely even make out the outline of Peter’s body through the frosted glass. 

Peter casts his own glance at you and how you’re still not wearing anything but panties and that short shirt. You stretch your arms, still trying to shake the tired feeling, and your shirt lifts so that Peter can already see the flesh of your tits. But you stop stretching just before your top lifts over your nipples and he quickly turns to look at the wall in the shower instead.

He quickly washes himself using your shower gel, maybe he’ll smell just like you now.

You hand Peter a towel just at the right moment and he wraps it around himself before stepping out of the shower.

“Wait, leave it on,” you tell him.

In his still horny brain a scenario plays out where you said that a few moments earlier and joined Peter in the shower.

This time you don’t tell him if it’s okay for him to look while you’re changing so he diverts his gaze before you slip out of your clothes.

You squeal when you get in the shower, “Peter, why is it so cold? What’s wrong with you?” 

He must not have realised how cold it was, but once he got into the shower he only cared about coming, and he blocked everything else out. By the time he was washing his body, he must have become used to the temperature already and didn’t notice.

Peter brushes his teeth with his second toothbrush that he’s got in your bathroom and quickly goes into your bedroom so he won’t be in the same room as you while you’re naked and he’s only got a towel wrapped around him.

You come out dressed in the clothes you took into the bathroom with you.

“Sorry that I used your shower,” Peter says, sitting on your bed with nothing but your towel.

“You’re welcome here whenever and welcome to use whatever, you know that. But showering that cold should be a crime,” you smile at him, “Should I get you some clothes?”

You go to Peter’s room to get clothes for him and he changes into them in your bathroom.

“I know it’s the weekend but can we get that assignment done today? I wanna go buy my vibrator soon,” you pout.

Peter forgot all about that. How is he supposed to study with you if he knows you’ll go out together to buy a sex toy after?

But somehow he manages. Well, you realise you can do it mostly by yourself once you properly start and Peter is only there for moral support (even though he’s the one who needs moral support; he doesn’t know how much longer he can pretend that he doesn’t have feelings for you, pretend that he didn’t just jerk off while thinking of you and pretend that it–by far–wasn’t the first time.)

“Hey, are you okay?” You ask Peter as you’re both on your way to buy your stupid vibrator that Peter would love to replace.

He doesn’t know what you’re talking about but your worried look tells him he looks exactly as nervous from the outside as he feels. He’s never been to a sex shop. Are they going to ID you? Are you going to meet someone you know? Is it going to be all dingy?

Normally, you’re like an anchor to Peter, your presence can make him feel comfortable in situations that would usually make him panic. But in this situation, you’re making him even antsier. Not in a way that he would describe as anxious but more like a, he’s scared he’ll get a boner any second. That’s always a risk when he’s with you but that risk quadruples when you’re going to a sex shop to buy a vibrator for yourself.

You stop Peter in his tracks and stand in front of him to wipe his sweaty forehead with your sleeve, his heart beating even faster now. “You know you don’t have to come in if it makes you that nervous. But it’s just a shop.”

“What? Yeah I’m fine, pff, like so fine. I’m just hot,” Peter says, watching your eyes go to the thick winter coat Peter is wearing. You’re wearing one too. Even in his jacket, Peter could do with a bit more warmth.

“Here,” you unzip his jacket, and even if it’s only to assist Peter with his stupid lie, you’re still undressing him. You’re not helping the boner risk decrease at all.

The shop is classy and clean and the employees leave you alone (unlike when you dragged Peter to Lush that one time and he was forced to try out bath bombs and oil that he didn’t know the purpose of).

Now he can tell you’re flustered too, just a little bit. Holding on to Peter’s arm the whole time, you find what you need, pay, and put your gloves on top of the packaged vibrator just in case anyone decides to look in your bag.

Even though it’s a Saturday afternoon, the shops aren’t busy so you go to look for some new clothes. Peter thinks you could wear a potato sack and you’d still look pretty, so he’s not the best judge when you come out of the dressing rooms to ask for his opinion on whatever clothes you’re trying on.

“This is so ugly, oh my god,” he hears you from inside the dressing room, laughing.

You pop your head out behind the curtain to make sure no one sees you as you show Peter a top that, yes–even on you, looks ugly. You still look gorgeous, that’s for sure, but even your perfect face and body can’t save the Shrek-coloured thing that is supposed to be a t-shirt.

“You know, you’re the only one who’s allowed to see me in something as ugly as this,” you say absentmindedly as you go back to try on something else and Peter’s heart beats faster at your words.

It might sound ridiculous to an outsider, but to Peter these little things mean the world.

He might not be able to tell if what you feel for him is platonic or more, but he knows you feel something for him. You feel a lot for him. He feels it every time you so much as look at him. 

With you, Peter feels loved.

The love you give him feels like it’s supposed to be for a lover, supposed to be for that one special person. And the lines between friendship and more are so blurry in your relationship that he can’t tell how much is spilling onto the romantic side already.

Peter contemplates paying for your new jeans but in the end, he’s too awkward (and too broke) in front of the cashier to interrupt when you get out your money. Besides things like cinema tickets, drinks and food, Peter has never paid for anything that you bought and it would feel very boyfriend-y.

You get food on your way home and by the time you’re in Peter’s room, it’s dark outside already. Peter was surprised that you even came to his room and when he keeps noticing you looking at the bag with your new toy in it, his assumption that you’d rather be doing something else now is confirmed.

You’ve been so casual when you talk about things like vibrators and getting off, but Peter has never had the courage to properly contribute anything to the conversation. But he decides to put on his big boy pants and before he can chicken out he nods towards his door and says, “Go on, try out your vibrator. I know you’re dying to.”

You give him a charming and apologetic smile, snatching your bag, ready to go. “I’d love to spend time with you, you know that but–”

“I know. But we have enough time for that tomorrow. Just don’t break your–” Don’t break what? Don’t break your pussy? Your clit? He’s never said any of those words out loud.

“I won’t,” you help him out and climb on the bed again to kiss his cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Pancakes as always?”

“Pancakes as always,” Peter smiles, feeling himself blush, “Text me your review of the toy,” he says before you leave.

“I will,” you smile back at him, wave, and close the door.

Peter waits a few moments until he thinks you’ve arrived at your door. Are you going to throw yourself on your bed as soon as you get in? Shower first? Are you going to slowly take off all your clothes, caress your body to turn yourself on? Seduce yourself? Or are you going to push your pants down just a few inches and shove the vibrator between your legs?

Whatever you’re doing, thinking of any of those scenarios makes Peter hard immediately; that, and the tension from today that he can finally release.

He moves to the side of the bed that you were just lying on, and the sheets still smell like you.

Peter unbuckles his belt and pushes down his jeans, grabbing himself through his boxers and instantly feeling a sense of relief.

He imagines you lying in your bed, right now, two fingers between your legs. You’re so wet from being with Peter, the guy you’re into, all day, that your fingertips easily glide over your skin.

Peter shifts and runs his thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the precum. The warm, familiar pressure is already building up in Peter’s body, and he slides his fist up and down himself faster.

In Peter’s mind, you’re spreading your lips now, holding the vibrator against your clit. You jolt at the first contact and smile, knowing you’re about to feel nothing but bliss.

Your body relaxes and you let the vibration take over completely, chasing your orgasm that’s so close after only a minute. You throw your head back when you cum, your eyebrows scrunched together. Your legs start shaking once you can’t take it anymore, but you press the vibrator to your clit during the last few aftershocks.

Peter cums at the same time as you do in his imagination. He’s spilling over his abs and his hands, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

He lies in his bed for a few more moments, sighing as he cleans up the mess he just made. He gets a message from you: Had a nice day btw :) Can’t wait to see you again tomorrow <3

He smiles and texts back, too exhausted to feel bad for what he just did.

Tomorrow will be the third day in a row that you’re spending time together and you’re showing no signs of getting tired of him. But at this rate, it seems like Peter will never know what being with you while you orgasm is actually like.

He can be patient, but he doesn’t know if he’s waiting for something that will never happen. 

He doesn’t even care about the sex, he just wants to hold your hand and know what it means, know that it means that you’re in a romantic relationship.

He’ll give you all the time you need, that’s all he can do. He simply can’t confess his feelings, he can plan on doing it and dream about it as much as he wants, but when he’s standing in front of you he can’t risk losing you.

Maybe one day he’ll be brave enough, and who knows, maybe you’re thinking the exact same thing right now, trying to be brave but you just can’t.

Maybe.

*

Peter knocks at your door the next day, ready to get pancakes like you always do on Sundays. There’s a lot of commotion behind the door and you take a while to open it.

“You’re early,” you say, hair messy and overall dishevelled.

“Am I? I don’t mind waiting,” Peter says.

“I’ve just quickly got to shower, you can go back to your room or wait here, whichever you want.”

“No problem, I’ll just wait here.” Peter feels as if that’s the wrong answer because you don’t exactly look thrilled that he’ll be in your room, but you still let him in with a small smile. He knows that you can’t be mad at him and by the time Peter’s on your bed and you're about to go to the bathroom, you’re giving him a genuine smile and say you won’t be long.

Peter gets out his phone as he hears you turning on the water and he drops to his back on your bed.

Just as he’s about to go on Instagram, he hears a quiet, mechanical whirring. He wouldn’t be able to pick up on it without his enhanced hearing.

He hears how you smack your hand over your mouth, but you’re not quick enough. Peter still heard a tiny moan.

So that’s why you didn’t want Peter coming in. You’ve probably been making yourself cum all night and you weren’t finished with the last round.

Peter sits up and tries to stick his fingers in his ears, but even if he can’t hear you anymore he’s still got the vivid image of you in his head, only a wall separating you two.

He stands up and looks for something to distract himself before he gets hard, but to make things even worse, Peter’s eyes land on a pair of panties next to your bed.

He feels like a perv as he picks them up. He can see your arousal still glistening in them, and it’s like they’re calling out Peter’s name.

He’s about to lift them to his face when he hears you turning off the water. Peter stuffs the panties into his jeans pocket quickly and out of reflex. He stiffly sits on your bed, unsure if he still has enough time to pull your underwear out of his pocket again and throw it under your bed. 

He’s too nervous to hear what you’re doing, his ears ringing, and before he can bring himself to quickly put your underwear back, you’re coming out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go.

With your innocent rambling about college he manages to calm down but you and your stupid vibrator are still on his mind. But it’s a good thing that you two can talk about stuff like that, so maybe he’ll get his mind off it once he asks you about it.

“So, is it good?” He asks you as you slide into the booth at the place you always go to for pancakes.

“Is what good?”

“Your, your vibrator thing? You didn’t send me a review,” he says.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” you laugh, “It’s so good, oh my god. I’m so glad we don’t have roommates here cause I did it like six times last night. I get why people pay so much for it. I mean it’s supposed to simulate oral sex and I can’t imagine that it feels the same but I guess I’ll find out one day.”

“You always have me if you want to find out how it feels.”

He can only gather the courage to say that because of what you once said about sucking his dick for practice so you could suck Andrew’s dick for a better score. The only difference is that you turned out to be joking, but Peter is serious.

He probably sounds too serious too because you give him a questioning, “Huh?”

“Well- well I’m just saying if you wanna compare your toy to oral sex then I... you know... my tongue is available to you,” he says it exactly how it comes to his mind, unsure if he should make it sound more like a joke.

You laugh, declaring it a joke yourself, “Okay, thanks. You’re so cute.”

It’s not ideal but the fact that you’re not running away from him and gagging shows him that at least the thought of Peter going down on you doesn’t disgust you. The fact that you made a joke about going down on him first, even if that was weeks ago, gives Peter a tiny bit of hope that maybe his instinct has been right all this time. Maybe you do like him back and you just need a bit more time.

“Um, I heard that next week there’s going to be loads of shooting stars. I was thinking we could drive out of the city and go stargazing. I already asked James and he said we can take his car–the truck, it’s big enough for us to lie down in while we look at the sky, it’s going to be warmer next week too and–”

“I’d love to,” you grin.

He mirrors your smile immediately because it actually took a lot of convincing for Peter’s friend James to let Peter have his car. And more importantly, looking at the stars sounds very romantic. He wasn't sure if he should invite you to something so obviously romantic.

What if it makes you realise that Peter likes you and you distance yourself from him because you don’t feel the same?

What if you do feel the same, but you need your time and it’s too early for a date-like activity?

But what if... what if it’s just the right thing?

You hold hands, you’ve slept in a bed together, so Peter doubts you will be freaked out by stargazing. But Peter can already feel the butterflies just thinking about lying under the night sky with you, and what if you don’t?

But maybe Peter is ready for the risk after all. He’ll see if you’re enjoying yourself, try to see in your beautiful eyes if you’re as smitten as him. He's realised that he’ll have to try one day and now that you’ve agreed to his plan, it feels like this is the right timing, the right thing. Maybe he’ll even ask you how you feel, or make a comment about how romantic the situation is.

And if you and Peter belong together, then maybe it’s time for you. He certainly feels that he’s ready. He’s not expecting a kiss, he’s not expecting anything except the tiniest hint that a romantic night with Peter doesn’t leave you cold. That would be more than enough to keep him going for so many more months to come.

He can wait if you need time but he’s just one man and his passion for you burns so brightly inside him that he just needs something, no matter how small it is.

You two walk home, your bellies filled with pancakes and warmth from seeing your person. No matter if it’s platonic or romantic, Peter would be blind if he didn’t see that he makes you happy and how much you glow and grin and his presence. 

You hang out on campus for a bit more but you tell him you still need to study and you’ll see him tomorrow (he tries not to think about how you’re probably lying and are simply going to use your vibrator over and over).

Peter changes into sweats once he gets to his room and as he’s putting his jeans away he notices something pink peeking out of the pocket. Your panties. He completely forgot about them.

He carefully pulls them out, holding them like they’re a sacred treasure.

Making himself comfortable on his bed, he takes a deep breath before bringing your underwear up to his face.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting your arousal to smell like, not like this, but it’s even better. 

It smells heavenly, just like everything else about you.

He bunches your panties up in his hand and presses them against his face, inhaling your scent while he reaches a hand under his sweatpants and strokes himself. 

He’s been hard since he remembered he had your panties and he doesn’t even think about you making yourself wet, your smell alone has him coming undone within seconds.

He does it again before going to bed, this time wrapping the panties around his hand so he’s jerking himself off with them. He bites his t-shirt in an attempt to muffle his moans as the material slides up and down his cock.

He fucks his fist as hard and as fast as he can, his bed starting to squeak from the intensity of it.

Your wetness on your panties has long dried but the thought of your arousal so close to his dick has him–once again–reaching his orgasm pathetically fast. He sighs after he cums, examining the panties to make sure he pulled them away in time and there’s none of his cum on them.

He wants to save them for another time; as many times as they’ll still have your addicting smell on them.

He cleans the mess off himself, his cum ending up in a tissue that he throws into the trash can with all the other tissues. He’ll empty it before you come over the next time.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ:*:･｡

You’ve been driving for half an hour now, the city nothing but a few lights in the rearview mirror. 

You find a spot next to a field, not a soul to be seen anywhere near you. You get the blankets and snacks to make yourselves comfortable in the back of James’s pickup truck that Peter borrowed.

“Look,” you point towards the sky, but Peter misses the shooting star. He goes back to looking at your beautiful face, only to find your eyes already on him.

He feels your hand on the side of his face, pushing his head to face the sky again, “Look at the stars, not at me,” you say and he can hear the grin in your voice. You’re enjoying yourself, and that’s all that matters. You want him to enjoy himself too, not knowing that your face is so much more interesting to look at.

After a few moments of staring into the brightly lit sky–it never looks like this in the polluted city–he has to admit, the night sky isn’t bad either.

It only takes a few seconds until another shooting star races across the sky and you share an excited look, “Did you see that?” You ask.

“You’re supposed to make a wish,” Peter whispers, eyes closed as he wishes for a relationship with you.

You’re still looking at him when he opens his eyes, your gaze intense, eyes flitting across his face.

“Did you make a wish?” Peter asks. You nod and slowly divert your gaze towards the masterpiece of nature above you again.

He can’t shake the feeling that your wish also had something to do with him. Something romantic. He always overthinks and doubts himself but this is one thing he’s sure about.

But the moment is fleeting and Peter doesn’t find the words to say. You’re back to looking at the stars, and he doesn’t want to have to grab your face to kiss you.

He swallows down the disappointment and tries to enjoy the time with you, his dear friend. Not many people have a friendship like yours and at this moment he just tries to be grateful for that.

“Peter?” Your voice is quiet.

“Mhm?”

“I’m so glad we met,” you turn to your side, your whole body facing him now. He can hear the raw emotion in your voice, he thinks he can even see tears in your eyes. That’s what your shared love does to Peter too. He could cry just thinking about it.

“Me too,” he says, reaching for your hand, trying to bring the monstrosity of his feelings into words to let you know that nothing has made him as happy as meeting you, but the words won’t come out. 

“Our friendship means so much to me,” you say, and it stings. In this romantic moment, cuddled up beneath the stars, is that all Peter will ever be to you? A friend?

You continue, “I‘m sorry if I ruin it with what I‘m about to do.”

“What–”

You lean in and kiss Peter.

The world stops. Nothing matters, nothing but your lips on Peter’s. He always thought he’d be overcome with great excitement when you first kiss, an explosion of fireworks in his mind and his insides, but he feels at peace. It simply feels right.

“Did I just ruin our friendship?” You whisper, and it’s then that Peter realises that he barely kissed you back. He was too stunned to.

He puts his hands on your face and pulls you in, pressing his lips against yours over and over.

“You didn’t ruin our friendship, you turned it into something better, so much better. And you know that our friendship is hard to beat,” Peter says.

You let out a laugh of joy, “It is,” and you kiss him again, slinging your arms around his neck to pull him as close as you can.

Your lips are soft, so so soft, and even in the cold night, Peter feels warm because he has your body against his.

“Could you maybe uh… slap me?” Peter asks.

“Um, what?”

“Just so I know I’m not dreaming. Please.”

You pinch his cheek instead and you both smile. Peter’s not waking up. He’s already awake. It’s not a dream, this is actually happening.

The fireworks come after all, an explosion of happiness shooting through his chest when he realises that this is real.

He hugs you tight, as tight as he can without breaking you.

Peter’s heart drops when you pull away and tears stain your cheeks, “What-what’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing, nothing,” you put a hand on his chest, “I’m just so happy.” Your voice breaks as more tears rush down your face but your eyes are full of happiness.

Tonight, Peter was hoping for a hint that maybe in the future you see something more than friendship between you two too. What he got was all of you. A confession of your feelings, a raw exposure of your deepest emotions, vulnerability. But you trust him. And he’s so glad you do. He’ll do anything to make sure you’re happy and safe and comfortable. 

He starts crying too, just a few tears, either because he’s seeing you cry or because it’s the first time in his life that he’s ecstatic enough to experience happy tears—he’s been waiting for this for so long, unsure if it would ever even happen. All the doubt from the last months tumbles away – none of it matters anymore. You kissed him. 

“I really want to blow my nose but I don’t want to leave you,” Peter sniffles.

You look at him, “Go blow your nose, Peter.”

“Okay.”

“I have some tissues in my bag.”

You keep your hand on Peter’s leg while he reaches for your bag and half a minute later you’re reunited again with you lying in Peter’s arms.

You drove all the way to look at the stars but you can’t keep your eyes off each other, never going more than a minute without kissing. It takes a few more minutes for you to pretend that the stars are more interesting than Peter, and you straddle him once you decide you can’t go any longer without being as close to him as possible.

Peter wraps his arms around your waist, enjoying your weight on him. The kisses turn from pecks into something more, but it’s soft and unhurried. You’re taking your time with Peter, savouring the feel of him while Peter takes it all, takes all you give him.

Your wet mouths on each other is the only sound far and wide; even mother nature is quiet as you kiss Peter in the back of this truck, out in the country with no one else around.

You shift, your lips never leaving Peter’s, and start grinding against him, slowly.

He squeezes your waist harder as it becomes difficult to control himself. The only thing stopping him from ruining his pants is the fact that you’re both wearing jeans, so you’re narrowly missing Peter’s hardness, doing what feels good for you.

You stop abruptly with horror in your eyes and Peter strokes your back, “Everything okay? Why’d you stop?”

You look down, a bashful smile on your lips, “I didn’t realise I was doing that.”

Peter stops himself from groaning. He’s getting more turned on with every passing second.

“You don’t have to stop on my behalf.”

After two seconds of contemplation, you kiss Peter again, adjusting your position. You both gasp into each other’s mouths when you’ve perfectly aligned your bodies, and they start moving perfectly in tune with one another.

“I’ve been dreaming of having you on top of me for so long,” Peter says, hands now on your hips, feeling your every movement.

“And I’ve wanted to be on top of you.. for so long,” you’re distracted, pushing yourself up with your hands on Peter’s chest, your voice faltering as you hold in a moan.

Peter feels incredible – everything you do makes him feel incredible. 

So incredible that he doesn’t know how he hasn’t cum yet, but he’s trying so hard not to.

He nearly moans when you grab his hoodie harder and you whimper, “I’m so close.”

One hand is at your jeans, trying to undo the buttons but you can’t, too lost in pleasure.

“Peter, unbutton my jeans,” you say–or rather whimper, “Please.”

And even though he’s on the brink of coming, nothing matters more than your orgasm right now, so he quickly fumbles with the buttons and opens them, your hand disappearing down your pants immediately.

Peter grabs the backs of your thighs as you cum on top of him, your face more gorgeous than he could have ever imagined, so pretty and so vulnerable just for him. He cums at the same time as you, trying to hide it but his hips push up against yours nevertheless.

You let yourself fall to Peter’s side, hiking your leg up over his lap. Peter puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“Did you uh..” you look up at him, half teasing him, half unsure if it even happened.

Peter drags a hand over his face, “Yeah… I.. came in my pants.”

“Oh,” you try not to laugh, “Sorry.”

He looks at you, “No, don’t apologise, that was one of the best moments of my life.”

You give him baby wipes from your bag while you pack the stuff and wait for him in the car. He reluctantly hands you the baby wipes when he gets in next to you, looking at your lap.

“What?” You ask.

“I’ve known how you smell for nearly a week now and I don’t know how much longer I can go without having a taste of you.” He’s thinking about your panties, safely stored in his room but they’ve lost even the last traces of your smell.

You follow Peter’s eyes towards your crotch and figure out what he’s talking about, “How… how do you know how I smell?” 

Shit. 

He forgot that you’re not supposed to know that. 

But maybe, subconsciously, he said it on purpose so he can get any secrets out before you two get serious. Or maybe he’s just a dumbass, but he’s trying to look at the bright side. He’s not capable of any negative feelings when you just kissed him.

“Peter?” You ask. You don’t sound mad, you’re just curious.

“I uh, I took a pair of underwear from your room,” he starts.

“The pink ones? I’ve been looking for them.”

“Yeah, they’re pink. And it was the day after you got that clit sucking toy thing so I kept imagining you using it and then the smell made it so much more real…” he says, head hanging low in shame. You still don’t sound mad or grossed out but you haven’t heard all of it yet.

“Go on.”

“I used your underwear to um… jerk off,” he doesn’t meet your eyes until he hears your next words.

“That’s kind of hot,” you bury a hand in his hair, looking at him like you want to eat him up.

“R-really? You’re not mad?”

You shake your head and lean over to kiss him and Peter feels his blush up to his ears.

“I do want my panties back though.”

He tells you you’ll get them back and starts the engine to drive back.

“Wait,” you say, “Didn’t you want a taste?”

He immediately stops the car and leans over. 

“I- well, I didn’t get a chance to get that wet but..”

“I’ll take anything,” Peter pleads.

You kiss his nose and unbutton your jeans, your fingers disappearing beneath them. He hears the wetness and is hard at once. And that’s when you didn’t have a chance to get that wet? You pull two glistening fingers out and bring them in front of his lips.

His cheeks heat up when he leans forward to take them into his mouth. 

He moans at the taste. Sweet yet tangy. He wants to bury his face in you immediately; but you seem tired and he’ll have plenty of opportunities to do that another time.

Peter pulls you close and kisses you, he’s not that good with words so he hopes his tongue in your mouth tells him how much he wants you. It doesn’t have to be now, he just wants you to know.

“I like you.” It slips out of Peter’s mouth when you pull away from the kiss but his words make you connect your lips to his again.

“I like you too,” you smile, nearly laughing because it should probably have been obvious to Peter as soon as you kissed him. Leaning back in your seat in content, you look at Peter with those beautiful eyes of yours. 

Those four little words could make him cry happy tears again but he pulls himself together when you turn on one of your favourite songs and he turns away when you use the baby wipes. 

Before he drives you two home, a thought pops into Peter’s head; a thought that he’s had time and time again and he has to make sure that you know exactly how he likes you.

“But I um… I want you to know that I really do like you, as a person, romantically. I– of course I enjoyed what just happened–you have no idea just how much–”

“I think it was obvious how much you enjoyed it, Peter,” you interrupt him with a teasing smile that makes him blush and stutter for a few seconds before he continues.

“So, while, of course, I’m into you sexually, the emotional and romantic part is so much more important to me, and I need you to know that. But I’ve had so many sexual thoughts about you and, now that I’ve told you that I had your underwear and everything–”

“So you feel bad that you’ve had sexual thoughts about me?” You sum it up and Peter closes his mouth and nods.

“Well, don’t. Peter, in the last month I’ve spent every minute away from you with my fingers between my legs, imagining–wishing they were yours. I’m glad I was not the only one, it’s nice to hear that you’ve been as affected as I’ve been.”

“Are you sure? Because I remember that time when you said how all guys on campus just think with their dicks and how I’m different from them but I’m really not that different. If I’m not thinking about hugging you or thinking about your smile, then I’m always thinking about getting in your pants. And that is a lot of the time. And I’m sure that, even if you’ve thought about me in that way too, I’ve thought about you way more and I just need to know if you think I’m a perv or something.”

“Peter, hey,” you cup his cheek, “I don’t think that. And you don’t think with your dick. You just said you’ve wanted me for months and you didn’t even kiss me. You’re the opposite of those guys that have nothing but sex on their minds so that they can’t even think straight and ruin friendships with girls. You didn’t do that. You thought about my and your feelings and about our connection rather than getting in my pants.”

“But I did think a lot about getting into your pants,” he sighs.

“I thought about you getting into my pants too. That’s fine. That’s the beauty of liking someone, there’s not just the romantic side but also the sexual side. But you didn’t let the sexual side control you and you cared about my feelings first and foremost. Don’t feel bad for thinking about having sex with me, I’m glad you do. But you do so much more than that. You’re nothing like those guys.”

“I’m not like the other guys?” Peter laughs and then kisses you. (He still can’t believe he’s been kissing you all night). You shake your head, reassuring him.

Hearing you say that helps him immensely. He never felt bad about imagining what having sex with you would be like. It was the fact that it was without your knowledge and he had no idea if you’d be grossed and creeped out if you knew about it because you only saw him as a friend. He was scared of making you uncomfortable if you ever found out.

But you’ve found out now and you’re not just saying that it’s okay for him to think about that, but that you have thoughts about it too. (And now his thoughts are going to be even better, knowing that you might be thinking the same thing as him and his fantasies might turn into more than just fantasies).

The journey back has both of you smiling; what just happened still seems unreal, but every shared grin reminds Peter that it really did happen.

It breaks Peter’s heart when he delivers you back to your room, but he can tell you need sleep and he’s not exactly wide awake either. You kiss him like you mean it and you don’t pull away until you’re breathless.

When he gets to his room, Peter quickly puts your panties in his laundry basket so he won’t forget, and then he throws himself onto his bed and squeals loudly. He doesn’t care if anyone hears, he’s happy and he doesn’t mind if people know.

He gets a message from his next-door neighbour Brian:

Bro, you okay?

I heard a weird noise

He texts back: Y/n kissed me :)))))

Brian: About time, happy for you!

Peter considers going over to talk to his friend and tell him all about tonight. He’s tired but there’s no way he’ll sleep now anyway.

He then gets a phone call from you, and he picks up immediately.

“Peter?”

His face drops at your unsure voice. Did you change your mind?

“Yeah?”

“Did… did that really happen?” He thinks he can hear something positive in your voice but it’s hard to tell over the phone.

“It did.”

“Oh,” you say, “Good. I’m having a hard time believing it actually happened. I’ve been waiting for so long.”

He smiles again immediately, “Trust me, it hasn’t fully sunken in yet for me either.”

“Do you maybe wanna come over?” You ask, “I know it’s late but it’s the weekend so..”

He jumps to his feet and sets off instantly, “I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before.”

You giggle, “Me neither. I guess I was tired, but I’ll just be thinking about you all night anyway.”

You stay on the phone with him until he’s at your door, pulling him in for a kiss before he’s even in your room.

You push Peter onto the bed, lie on top of him, and hug him so tight that he can barely breathe. This would be the best way to go.

You’re both exhausted yet excited and interrupt each other with a kiss every few minutes while you’re talking about anything that comes to your mind.

“How long have you liked me?” You ask.

Peter smiles as he thinks back to the first time you met, “You made me nervous from the start because you’re so pretty, and then we talked about such personal things the first time we met. But I didn’t realise just how attracted to you I was until class a few days later when you were laughing about Professor Garfield’s jokes and talking about his ass.”

You pout and cup Peter’s cheek, “And then later I even made that joke about sucking his dick for a better score. Aw no, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugs, “You just came on top of me and not him.”

You hide your face in his neck at the reminder that you just nearly had sex with Peter outside. His hand rubs over your back as if he’s not blushing at the thought of it.

“When did you start liking me?” He asks and you lift your head again.

“I thought you were cute the first time I saw you and then when we talked in the kitchen I knew I’d have to keep you because I immediately felt comfortable around you. And then… I don’t know. You just did your thing. And then my heart did its thing too.”

“I’m glad my charm worked on you.”

“It worked wonders,” you push yourself up on your hands and kiss Peter again, staying on top of him for a while until his lips feel sore.

“But regardless of this romantic… and sexual side,” you shyly smile at each other, “I meant what I said. Our friendship means a lot to me. And I’m glad we became friends before anything else.”

“Me too.”

He knows what you mean. Being friends allowed you two to get comfortable around each other first without any pressure to do things to make you attractive to the other person. Now you have a solid base of trust and you know each other; you don’t have to worry about only showing your best sides like other couples do in the beginning stages. You know each other inside out, (except for the fact that you’ve liked each other for a while — but that’s different), the good, the bad, the ugly – yet you’re still choosing each other. Happily so. 

You both lie on your sides, Peter’s hand reaching over to rest on your hip. He can’t help but smile the whole time.

“Were you planning to kiss me? Or was it spontaneous?”

“I’ve been thinking about how it would feel to kiss you for months now, but for some reason it never occurred to me to make the first move. I was pretty sure you like me but the time went on and you didn’t make a move and I got scared that I’d ruin our friendship if I totally misinterpreted everything and you didn’t like me back. 

“And I would have never forgiven myself for that. But when we were lying in the back of that truck, underneath the stars, I don’t know, it was so romantic and you were looking at me with so much adoration that there’s no way I wouldn’t have kissed you. My heart was leading me, I only gathered the courage because my body did what it knew I had to do, I was not in control at that moment, but I guess sometimes it’s good to give up control. But it was definitely spontaneous.”

Peter leans down so his face is right in front of your chest and he whispers, “Thank you, heart,” to which he hears your gorgeous laugh. Your whole body moves with your giggles, pushing your chest even closer to his face. It takes a second for him to get the willpower to pull his face away again.

You connect your lips to his a few more times, Peter’s heart fluttering with every passing second.

“Just so you know, I have liked you all this time, you were right. But I felt the same as you and you’re the most important person to me so I didn’t want to take even the slightest risk when it came to us. There were times when I thought our friendship would even survive me confessing my feelings and you not feeling the same, but by not telling you there was always the hope that you did like me. 

“But if I told you and you didn’t feel the same, even if our friendship survived, it wouldn’t have mattered because it would have broken my heart into a million pieces. And I couldn’t put myself through that-”

“I’d never do that. I’ll take good care of your heart, Peter.”

“I know you will.”

You share a small kiss, Peter intertwining your hands.

“Okay, looking back, I probably should have known that you like me as more than a friend. Your love for my legs gave it away, but at the time I didn’t realise-”

“How do you know that I love your legs?” Peter asks as he turns red, looking at your thighs and resisting the urge to put his hand on one of them.

“When you were drunk, you told me how much you love them. You were basically drooling because of them.”

“Oh.. I don’t remember that. But I do love them.”

“I know,” you smile as you place one of his hands on your thigh and he squeezes the flesh.

You lie next to each other for a while, breath evening out and Peter thinks you’ve fallen asleep until he hears your voice, “Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“I still can‘t believe that this is actually happening. It‘s like when you‘re at a concert and you don‘t realise that you‘re seeing your favourite artist live and in person, and afterwards you still haven’t realised, and you never really get how lucky you were.”

Peter turns to his side to face you, his tired brain taking a while to answer, but he’s satisfied with what he says, “But a concert only happens once, and we‘ll be together forev— a long time. And longterm. We have plenty of time to realise that it‘s real. Maybe we‘ll realise if you kiss me again.”

You grin immediately and lean in to connect your mouth to Peter’s.

He understands what you’re saying, he can’t quite believe it either. It’s been too long for it to be a dream, he knows that it’s real, but it’ll take a few days for him to realise that he really is the luckiest person on earth. 

He’s grateful that you two have something so beautiful that it nearly feels impossible.

You touch each other for a bit, not sexually, you’re just touching each other’s skin, realising more and more that this is reality.

You lazily make out for a few more minutes until Peter drifts off into the most peaceful sleep he’s ever had, with you in his arms.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ:*:･｡ 

It’s been a few weeks since that one eventful night and you’re spending even more time with each other than before. Making out with you has become Peter’s new hobby.

He loves that you’re experiencing all your sexual firsts together. You haven’t actually done anything more than kiss since the night under the stars, and he’s more than happy to be patient if you need it but he’s looking forward to more.

“Is it okay if we don’t go all the way yet?” You ask him while you’re both hydrating and eating fruit between makeout sessions, “I definitely want to soon, but maybe not… not yet.”

Peter pulls you on top of his lap and holds you, “We established that the very first time we met, didn’t we? Of course it’s okay if we wait.”

“Okay,” you kiss him, “I don’t mean that we can’t do anything though.”

Peter licks his lips when he realises you’re planning something. You push Peter’s chest so he lies on his back and you slot your hips over his. His eyes flutter shut when he feels your mouth on the special spot on his neck and you slowly start grinding on him.

He grabs your hips and opens his eyes again when you stop kissing him to focus on that sweet place between your legs rubbing against Peter.

You stop when your eyes meet, “You have to close your eyes.”

“I wanna see you though.”

“It’s different from the first time, we’re not out during the night. And the position’s uncomfortable.”

“Then let’s change it.”

He’s already hard and if you continue like that he won’t take much longer; but your pleasure is more important to him so he pulls his sweat shorts further up his leg and lifts you onto his thigh. 

Your eyes go down and you realise what he wants you to do, “But you–”

“Shh, this is about you right now, okay? And I’ll cum as soon as you do anyway so don’t worry about me. This okay?”

He sees how his words give you confidence and you nod, letting yourself fully sit down on his thigh. Peter knew he liked your pretty skirt for more than aesthetic reasons because the only thing between your warm pussy and Peter’s skin is your underwear. He could cum from the feeling of your wet heat through your panties alone, but he tries to focus on making you breathless with his kisses once you wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face close.

He holds you as you rock yourself on his thigh, becoming surer in your movements after a while, finding what feels best for you. Peter instinctively flexes the muscles in his thigh when you change your position slightly, and your little gasp tells him to continue doing it.

Your wetness slowly but surely drenches your panties and reaches Peter’s skin. You grab his shirt hard and bury your other hand in his hair, pulling. Peter tries bouncing his leg up and down and is rewarded with the sweetest moan coming from your mouth, followed by a gasp and a whispered: “I’m gonna cum.”

Your legs get weaker while you’re coming but, through his own approaching orgasm, Peter pushes your hips in whatever direction you want them to go and together you try to savour your highs for as long as possible. 

Out of breath, you’re still holding onto Peter tightly. As your hand in his hair slowly lets go, you press a kiss to his head, your hand on his shirt easing too as you smooth down the material.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” You ask carefully but Peter shakes his head and purses his lips for you to give him a kiss, and you smile when you do.

“Oh, wait did you really cum?” You’re glancing down at the wet spot on his pants but your eyes widen when you get off him and realise how much you leaked onto his thigh yourself.

“I don’t know how I couldn’t cum when I have the prettiest, sexiest woman in the world having an orgasm on my lap.”

You lean your head against his shoulder, hiding your face from him while your cheeks heat up. You get off him and he goes to the bathroom to clean up.

You’re absentmindedly biting your lip when Peter comes back and he pulls you out of your daydream with a kiss.

“Do you wanna eat my pussy?”

Peter freezes for a second and then jumps onto the bed. You laugh, “Wait, I need a break first.”

“Okay,” he sits down next to you and swallows. He’s hard already just from the thought of going down on you. He couldn’t be happier that you want him to do it, he’s had daydreams (well, he’s mostly thought about it during nighttime) about it so many times.

“Do you want me to give you a massage?” He asks. It’s something you’ve done for him countless times and he doesn’t return the favour as often as he’d want to because your massages are heavenly and he can barely get up after.

“Yes please,” you lie down on your stomach, “But don’t stand on me.” You both chuckle.

Your massages consist of kneeling or standing on Peter’s back. It sounds painful but to him it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. He doesn’t just like your weight on his lap, he likes you on top of him in various scenarios.

He’s kneading your shoulders for about a minute when you suddenly sit up, “Okay, the break is over, can you eat me out now?”

A smile spreads over Peter’s face and you kiss him, a similar expression on your lips.

You get comfortable on your back and pull your shirt over your head and slip out of your skirt.

Peter sits between your legs, speechless, thumb rubbing over the large wet spot on your panties. You gasp when he touches you there but Peter can’t continue before showing you how much he loves your tits first. They're perfect.

He kisses his way up your stomach, inching further up until your nipple is in his mouth and your hand goes into his hair. He gets lost in the feeling of one of your boobs in his hand and the other one against his tongue until you push his head away.

He worries he’s hurt you but you whimper and spread your legs, pulling them up against your chest, “Please,” is all you can manage to say. Peter’s hands wander down your sides and between your legs, his fingers gliding over your panties.

Peter drags your underwear down your legs slowly, a string of your arousal staying connected to your panties momentarily. He licks his lips and kneels in front of the bed, pulling you to the edge of the mattress.

With your legs on his shoulders, Peter kisses your clit once, watching as your eyes flutter shut. He’s forgetting that this is your first time too, so your expectations probably aren’t too high. And you’re wet from your earlier orgasm and it seems to be doing wonders for you; you already start arching your back when Peter licks up and down your clit a few times.

He savours the taste of you on his tongue, sweeter than anything he’s ever tasted, and knowing that he’s tasting you because you’re wet for him makes things even better.

As he plays with your clit, his tongue in your pussy, he puts a hand on your stomach. It’s just because he doesn’t know where else to put his hand, but you grab some of his fingers, holding his hand and Peter’s convinced his eyes must be shaped like hearts right now. He’s always loved holding hands with you.

He makes out with your pussy, your juices all over his mouth, and he starts sucking your clit.

“Peter..” your voice comes out as a whimper and you grip his hand harder. You arch further into him and your eyes squeeze shut, and Peter can tell you’re coming – on his tongue, with his face between your legs, just like he’s imagined so many times but it’s so much better than what he ever could have wished for.

He only pulls his mouth away from you slowly, not wanting the moment to end. You don’t let go of his hand, instead using your intertwined fingers to pull him up so Peter can kiss you. 

You hug him like you never want to let him go again and Peter gladly complies. He wraps his arms around you and lies on top of you for as long as you’ll have him.

“I’m too tired to return the favour,” you say after a while.

“That’s okay. I just wanted to make you feel good.” 

He’s glad you said it because then you won’t need to find out that he came in his pants ages ago, yet again, and you don’t need to be reminded of what a loser your boyfriend can be and how you’re the opposite.

Peter lifts his head so you’re looking at each other, and you cup his cheeks to kiss him on the lips a few times.

“I’m getting cold,” you say.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

You smile and kiss his forehead, “I should get dressed. And I need to pee. But you can cuddle me again after.” Peter gets up and scoops you up in his arms, earning a squeal from you.

He carries you to the bathroom and even though he’s completely dressed and you’re naked and vulnerable, he can tell you’re content and comfortable by the way you drop your head to his shoulder and let him hold you.

You’re in the bathroom while gets the clothes you asked him to get from your room, but he changes first so he’s not walking around the student accommodation with a mess in his pants.

You’re sitting on the bed in all your naked glory when he gets back. He stares for a second, smiling softly as he realises how lucky he is to get to see you like this, that he’s the only one in the world who does and that you want him to see you like this.

It’s later in the night and you’re in bed, you sitting on top of Peter, kissing him. It’s not sexual; you’re enjoying each other’s company, touching each other, locking lips over and over and over. Peter couldn’t be happier. There’s a smile on his face the whole time.

“I like kissing you. Like a lot,” you say.

“I love kissing you.”

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna be my boy—”

“Girlfriend? Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” He interrupts you, somewhat surprised.

You grin and throw your arms around him, “Yes.”

“Sorry, I wanted to say it. After you made the first move I wanted to do this.”

“Everything okay?” You ask, realising he’s not telling you everything simply by looking at him.

“Well I don’t know, I kind of thought we were together already,” he says and your face softens.

“Oh. I mean we may as well have been. But we never properly talked about it. And just now I realised how sad I was that I couldn't officially call you my boyfriend, so I wanted to make sure that I could.”

“You’re right, now we have talked about it. And now it’s official. The most beautiful woman in the world is officially my girlfriend,” he beams as he cups your cheek and kisses you again. 

You lie down next to him, his arm around you as you cuddle into his side.

After a few moments of looking at Peter, you start giggling, as if you just remembered something funny or embarrassing about him.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing just, I’m so into you, and you really weren’t sure if I liked you? I know we‘ve talked about how we were both too scared to ruin the friendship but we were both idiots. 

“I mean, I tried to give you the boldest, most obvious signs. I kept holding your hand, talked about me getting off. I changed in front of you, slept next to you half-naked? Peter, I said I’d suck your dick.”

“Yeah but it was only in relation to you sucking professor Garfield’s dick for a better mark.”

“Knowing me, do you think I’d really suck a professor’s dick to get a better score?”

He shrugs, “Well, not when you say it like that, no. But we didn’t know each other that well yet. And hearing the girl you like say she’ll suck another guy’s dick isn’t nice regardless of if she’s being serious or not.”

You pout and cup his face, kissing him a few times, “I only want your dick, promise.”

“And my dick only wants you,” he says, earning a small laugh from you.

“But seriously, I contemplated peeing while you were in the bathroom with me at that party. If there was an obvious sign that I liked you, it would be that,” you joke.

“Just so you know, you can pee in front of me. And as long as you’re okay with that, I’d also feel comfortable peeing in front of you.”

You scrunch up your face, “We’ll avoid it if we can.” You both laugh but you know it would be no big deal and you’d be comfortable with it. It sounds like a weird thing to bond over, but Peter thinks it’s sweet.

“Anyway, I know I brought it up but can we stop talking about peeing so you can go down on me again?”

Peter’s eyes light up, “Yes, yesyesyes,” and he starts kissing down your body.

*

“So,” Peter asks you a few days later, “You know how you said your sex toy is supposed to feel like oral sex? So who’s better? Me or the vibrator?”

You give him an exaggerated pout and scoot closer to him on the bed, ”Don’t make me hurt your feelings.”

You’ve just come back from a date Peter planned. You got take-out from your favourite restaurant and ate it next to the river that goes through the city. You walked for hours, holding hands, talking, getting ice cream and just being with each other.

While Peter loves going out with you, he’s not sure if anything can beat spending time alone with you, in your bed, utterly comfortable and being nothing but yourself. Not to mention that you two can have sex whenever you want to.

“I don’t mind if you say it’s the vibrator, I mean it’s made for making you feel good and I’m just some guy,” Peter says, “It’s literally called a clit-sucker.”

“Sex with you is better but if you’re comparing the toy with you sucking my clit, then the vibrator is better, yes,” you move to his lap and put your arms on his shoulders, linking your hands behind his head.

“Can I use it on you?”

You bite your lip when he says it, “There’s not much you can do, you just hold it against my clit.”

“I’d love to do that.”

You grin and start kissing him.

He flips you around so you’re under him. He slowly takes off all your clothes and you pull off his shirt. He can’t resist getting a taste of you before he starts, humming as he begins eating you out, tongue in your pussy and his thumb on your clit.

You whine when he stops but you both remember that you wanted to use your toy. He kisses his way up your body, your arousal on his lips.

“You’re so hot, I don’t know if I deserve you,” he whispers into your skin as he’s kissing your belly. You tug him up to you to kiss him with such intensity that tells him he deserves you, all of you. You’re made for each other. And you feel it too.

You reach into your bedside drawer and pull out your vibrator. Peter smiles as he spreads your legs and lies down between them.

“Like this?” He turns it on and you adjust the setting, lying back when Peter presses a kiss on your clit and places the toy on your pussy.

You put your hand over his, shifting it so it’s in the perfect place. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and rests his cheek against your other thigh, occasionally kissing the skin there. He brings his arm over your body, smoothing his hand over your tummy and grabbing one of your tits, playing with your nipple.

Your hands absentmindedly find his hair, burying your fingers in it as he tells you how pretty you are and how he wants you to cum.

You glance at Peter between your legs, smiling and laying your head back down on the pillow. A few moments later he notices your breathing changing and how your hips slightly buck up.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moan, your back arching, and Peter puts his hand over your lower belly to keep you down. Your hand tightens in his hair as frantic breaths and strangled sounds leave your mouth, not able to form any coherent sentence.

After a few seconds, Peter wants to pull the toy away, thinking you’re done, but you hold his hand in place until your legs shake and he feels your belly convulsing under his hand. You’re coming until your head drops to the side and you let go of both his hair and his hand so he pulls away the vibrator.

“Oh–God. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Sorry if I hurt you,” your hand goes through his hair once more but he kisses your hand instead, “Don’t worry.”

You let your head fall back, your eyes not leaving Peter. The way you’re looking at him is nearly enough to make him cum right then and there, but he takes your hand and kisses you instead.

You wrap your legs around Peter’s waist and pull him as close as you can, “Can we go all the way? I feel so empty, I need you inside of me.”

Peter gulps at your words, pulling his hips away from yours so he doesn’t finish before you’ve even started. “Are you sure? Last week you said you wanted to wait.”

“Yeah, I am. I thought it would take me longer to be comfortable around you when I’m naked but I feel so good, and I like being naked in front of you. I like how you look at me and how it makes me feel,” you smile softly and kiss him.

“I like having you naked in front of me too.”

“I know, that’s why I’m so comfortable. And the fact that I want this so quickly shows me that it’s the right thing and also I just really really need you inside of me.”

“Oh my god,” he whispers, closing his eyes to refocus, “I have to get the condoms.”

“Make sure to hide this first,” your hands go to the front of his sweatpants and he playfully narrows his eyes at you because you know exactly that what you’re doing is not helping his situation.

After another kiss from you, he manages to pull himself away from you and hides his hardness as well as he can. He slips back into his shirt and runs to his room to get the condoms you two bought the other week just so you’d have them.

When he comes back you already have your fingers between your legs, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Don’t apologise, baby,” Peter says before taking off his clothes in record time and joining you on the bed. 

You make out for a few minutes, forgetting everything else. His fingers wander to your pussy, playing with your clit until you can’t keep kissing him anymore, distracted by the pleasure.

He slips one finger into your pussy first, then two.

“Peter, it’s not enough,” you moan with a desperation in your voice that makes him even harder which, up to this point, felt impossible.

“‘M just checking you can take it, get you used to having something inside of you.”

You sigh into his mouth and give him the dirtiest kiss you ever have. “Just so you know.. I don’t know how long I’m gonna last,” he warns you, afraid of disappointing you.

“I don’t care, I just need you right now.”

“What if I cum immediately once I’m in you?”

You hold his face in your hands, “Fuck, Pete, that’s so hot. I want you to cum inside of me.”

“Don’t say that because I will.”

“Please, please, I’m ready,” you whisper.

“Wait, you mean with a condom right?”

You laugh and nod, kissing him on the nose.

“Okay, just checking,” he says, putting on the condom. 

You hold on to his neck as he lines himself up with you, feeling how wet you are. He pushes into you slowly, making sure you’re okay once he’s inside of you completely, “You okay?”

“Yeah, it feels even bigger inside of me.”

He blushes at you calling his dick big and runs a hand down your cheek, “Should I pull out?”

“No, no. Just give me a second.” 

You both take deep breaths once Peter starts rubbing your clit – you because you’re relaxing, Peter because he’s about to cum if he doesn’t focus.

He has you coming around his dick quickly. You press your chest against Peter’s when your back arches from the pleasure and you kiss the side of his face when you’re coming down from the high.

“Lift me up,” you tell him and you end up pushing Peter down on the bed, straddling his lap.

You place your hands on either side of Peter’s head, leaving him with your tits right in his face. You tell him to fuck you and with his hands on your hips, Peter slowly thrusts into you from below.

Your pussy squeezes him so tight, and you’re so warm, “Fuck, you feel so so good,” he groans. 

You start bouncing on him, meeting his thrusts halfway, now more used to him inside of you.

He closes his eyes, trying to think of something else but your quiet moans and your earlier words about wanting him to cum in you make him orgasm after a few more seconds.

He fucks you until he’s too exhausted to move and you grin down at him, both of you lying down to cuddle. 

You don’t say anything for a few minutes, both exhausted and content, only grinning at each other and occasionally giving the other a lazy kiss before you sit up on him again, your nipples right in front of his mouth.

He takes the opportunity to run his tongue around one, but you lean back, dazed, “No, no, you’ll make me horny again,” you smile, “And I don’t think I can take another orgasm right now.”

He kisses your sternum instead and picks you up in his arms so you can take a shower together.

Peter washes your body for you, taking his time to massage every part of you for a few seconds. He wants to spoil and pamper you and take as much work off your hands as he can. He knows you’d do the same for him.

Once you’re both clean, you stand under the water for a while, Peter’s arms around your waist, your back pulled to his chest. Your breathing is calm and your eyes are closed, completely relaxed against Peter.

“I came in here once,” Peter interrupts the silence.

You slowly open your eyes and turn around to face him, a smile making its way onto your face before it turns into a laugh, “What?”

“It was after that night when I got really drunk. I woke up with this perfect ass right against my crotch,” he squeezes one of your ass cheeks for emphasis. 

“You mean back when we were just friends?” You ask, pulling his arms around your body again, “That feels so long ago.”

“And at the same time like it was yesterday.” “Yeah,” you smile, “I probably would have helped you out if you’d asked.”

“Really?”

“I was already into you then and there’s no way I would have been able to–or wanted to–resist if I found out you were horny because of me. I was coming on my vibrator three times a day wishing it was you instead.”

Peter runs a hand over his face, remembering how scared he was that you’d never like him back, “I was wishing it was me too. I heard you that one time, when you were masturbating while I was waiting for you in there,” he nods his head towards the door to your room.

“You can’t blame me, you saw how that thing makes me cum,” you lean your head on his shoulder, hiding your embarrassment.

The moment you look down and see that Peter’s hard again, he stiffens even more.

“You’re getting harder from me looking at your dick?” You ask, licking your lips.

He nods, putting a hand around the back of your neck and gently pulling you towards him, kissing you to distract you from the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

While your teeth tug at Peter’s bottom lip, your hands smooth down his chest, over his faint happy trail and eventually you wrap your hand around his cock. He gasps at the first contact and opens his eyes, meeting your lust-filled gaze, “I can’t believe I haven’t done this before,” you say, starting to jerk him off with a slightly unsure look on your face.

“Is this okay?” You ask and Peter nods, “Show me how you do it,” you urge, lifting Peter’s hand to wrap it around your own.

With a firm grip, Peter guides your hand, “F-fuck,” is all he can manage to get out apart from a shaky breath. Your free hand runs across his chest, occasionally rubbing over his nipples, making him gasp. 

“I really need you to cum for me right now,” you whisper, looking down at your hand sliding up and down his dick. Your words make him groan and before he can prepare, waves of pleasure flow through him, his cum splashing all over your tummy. He can’t stop coming, especially not when you angle his cock further towards you, your belly now covered in him.

“Fuck,” you both moan at the same time and then you smile at each other. You step away from the spray of the shower, sliding a finger across your skin and sucking it into your mouth.

If he hadn’t already cum three times today, Peter would be hard in half a second. He shakes his head in disbelief, not sure what he did to ever deserve a girlfriend as sexy as you. He runs his thumb over your belly, picking up the rest of his cum on you and you open your mouth before he even asks you to.

He pushes it into your mouth slowly and you hum as he does it. Grabbing your face right after, he kisses you until neither of you can breathe. “Can I eat you out again now?”

You grin immediately, “Yes, but I’m tired.”

After you’ve dried off, he carries you to your bed, making sure you’re comfortable on it before his mouth disappears between your legs. He’s proud of how you grip his hair, grinding your pussy against his face and how you cum on his tongue.

He gets a notification on his phone just as he’s done kissing you after he made you cum. He ordered some food before you two went in the shower and it’s about to arrive.

“Go and get it, I can wait,” you tell him, but he makes sure to kiss your forehead and give you water and baby wipes before pulling on some clothes and rushing downstairs to get the food.

You eat it on your bed with a towel laid down to make sure nothing gets dirty. Peter likes how you randomly grab his hand while you’re eating or asking him to pass you your drink.

With some quiet music playing, you make yourselves comfortable in your bed, cuddling.

“Thank you,” you say, looking at him like he’s responsible for all good in the world.

“For what?”

“For everything. For taking care of me. For being you,” you slide your fingers between his. He picks up your intertwined hands and kisses yours, “It’s my pleasure. Thank you for being you, and for being with me.”

“There’s no one in the world I’d rather be with,” you lean over to kiss him, leaving your lips on his for a few seconds. “This white shirt looks so good on you, it’s my favourite,” you tell him, smoothing down the material and then resting your head on his chest.

“Thank you,” he wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you tight, “You know what looks even better on me?”

“Me?” You ask, already knowing what Peter is going to say and he adores you for it.

“Yes,” he smiles, “You.”

“I like this position, I like hearing your heart beating so clearly,” you say, nuzzling up against him.

“And I like that I can feel a heartbeat as soon as I put my hand here,” Peter smirks, sliding a hand between your legs and immediately feeling the pulsating warmth, even through your panties.

“Don’t blame me for getting turned on when the man I love touches my pussy,” you say, grabbing Peter’s hand into yours and away from your underwear to stop you from getting horny.

It takes both of you a second to realise that you just said that you love him. Probably because you’ve both felt it for a while; first as friends, then as lovers. Even if no one’s said it yet, it was obvious.

“I love you too,” he says softly and that’s when you realise what you just said. You turn towards him and start grinning, meeting Peter’s own wide smile. You start littering his face with kisses until he holds your face in place to kiss your lips. It’s like you melt right into his mouth once your lips touch his.

You spend the rest of the night telling each other that you love the other, giggling and cuddling and kissing until the early morning hours.

  *

Peter wants to sit through this lecture with you on his lap when you get to the lecture hall one minute before the lesson starts and there are no two seats free next to each other.

But you two promised yourselves that you weren’t going to be that annoying couple that has to be together at all times, so you two sit at opposite sides of the room.

Peter’s stomach tingles with jealousy when he sees that you’re sitting next to a guy you know. Brandon. Peter remembers him from the day you and Peter met. When it was Peter’s turn to tell an embarrassing sex story and he had nothing to say, you told Brandon to tell his story instead, distracting everyone and saving Peter.

He smiles when he thinks back to it; who knew that you two would end up in love?

But he hears your giggle through the entire lecture hall, over all the over murmuring, and Peter frowns. He knows it’s stupid if not wrong to be jealous about something so trivial. He’s more than okay with you having a male friend as long as he’s a good person; Peter’s happy about every nice friend you have.

But he’s spent the last few months getting to know you inside and out and you never mentioned Brandon. Now you’re talking to him like you’re best friends. Okay, the thing that bothers Peter the most is that you apparently knew Brandon’s sex story before he told it to the whole party.

Why were you talking to Brandon about sex? And why did you never mention it to Peter?

He knows you’ve done nothing wrong, and it’s ridiculous that he feels like this over a story and you laughing at another man’s jokes. If he was sitting next to you, he’s sure he’d be fine, but it doesn’t help that you’re out of reach.

He’s more curious than jealous, or that’s what he’s trying to tell himself, knowing he has no right to feel this way about such a little thing.

He tries to accept the feeling, tries to focus on what Professor Garfield is saying but throughout the whole lecture Brandon is in the back of Peter’s mind.

By the end of the lesson, he’s more mad than anything else – mad at himself for being jealous. He doesn't want to turn into one of those possessive, toxic and controlling boyfriends. He trusts you and he should be okay with you having dozens of male friends.

He waits for you by the door when the lecture is over, and in the sea of students you and Brandon leave the room separately. Peter’s so focussed on Brandon that he only notices you standing next to him once you hold his hand.

“What’s wrong?” You ask immediately. Peter didn’t know he was being that obvious.

He doesn’t want to drag you into his unnecessary jealousy and insecurity. “No-nothing,” he presses his lips together in a smile and you walk him into a quiet corner.

“What is it?” You sit down and pat the seat next to you for Peter to sit down.

“Well. I don’t know. It’s just, we usually sit together in this class and then we didn’t get to sit together and then you ended up next to a guy you know and I just…” It’s the shortened and less embarrassing version.

You smile, half with pity and half out of amusement, but he knows you’re not trying to make fun of him. “You were jealous? Of Brandon?”

“I don’t know. Kinda. I‘d honestly rather have you look at Andrew’s ass than have you talk to Brandon and giggle at everything he says and–like, I don’t even know him and I just felt insecure because I didn’t feel like I was a part of it,” he looks down, taking a deep breath, “Sorry, of course I don’t mean it like that. Obviously it’s fine if you have male friends. I was just wondering why you haven’t told me about him, because I remember him from the party the first time we met and I realised you never brought him up. And then I got so into my head about being jealous that I felt even worse and now I can’t even tell the jealousy from the being-mad-at-myself apart.”

“Okay, take my hand,” you say, “I love you. And-”

“I love you too,” Peter grins instantly, leaning over to kiss you.

“So, I didn’t tell you about Brandon because I wasn’t thinking about him. If he was important to me I would have introduced you two ages ago. I didn't even realise I was in this class until today. I met him the same night I met you and I was talking to a group of people before we played that game where he told that sex story. But wait.. Peter,” you furrow your eyebrows, “So you remember the story Brandon told?”

“I remember that he told a story, but I was too busy looking at you and being grateful that you helped me out of the situation.”

“Well, his story was about the first time he had sex with his boyfriend. And they’re still together.”

“Oh,” Peter says, dumbfounded, “Now I feel even worse. Why was I so jealous about a guy who has a boyfriend?”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. We’ve been attached at the hip lately, so of course we're not used to being apart. I’m sure we’ll get used to it in a few days. But you’re jealous for the first time and we’re already talking about it, I’m sure we’ll sort it out. I promise we’ll work it out together.”

He pecks your lips again, “Thank you. I think I was way more surprised about my jealousy than actually being jealous. I trust you and I love you and I do that more and more every day. It’s just that I want you so much that I assume every guy feels the same, because why wouldn’t they? Forgive me if I project that onto them and don’t trust them. But I trust you and that’s what matters and what I’ll try to rely on. I’m sorry for making such a big deal out of something small.”

“Don’t apologise, I’m glad you told me how you feel. You’re already not jealous anymore and you’re talking about it and working it out. That’s what matters. You recognise that it’s unreasonable but jealousy is a normal emotion.”

He gives you a small smile, already understanding himself better thanks to you. You’re right, jealousy is something everyone feels from time to time. He’ll learn how to deal with it, and now that he’s with you, feeling loved and appreciated, he can’t even imagine ever being jealous again. He can tell his love is reciprocated. He trusts you, and that’s all he needs.

You sit together for another while, smiling and saying goodbye when Professor Garfield walks past you. You wait until he’s turned around the corner to say, “Wait, what did you say about his ass earlier?”

Peter chuckles, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just the first time we had this lesson you said something about how nice his ass is.”

“Oh, now I remember. But your ass is the only ass I wanna look at now, you know that?” 

“Really?”

“Really. I wouldn’t have asked you to be my boyfriend if I was interested in anyone else’s ass.”

There’s a comfortable warmth in Peter’s chest at you calling him his boyfriend. He’ll always be happy to be that.

“Well,” he thinks out loud, “There are some guys with nice asses, I can’t deny that. But then we can both admire them, okay? Together.”

You laugh, “You’re so cute. Okay, I’ll let you know when I see a nice ass and we’ll appreciate it together.”

“Good,” Peter smiles, okay with you liking other people’s asses because, after all, those asses don’t have this great connection with you like he does. He’s so much to you than a person with a cute ass.

“But your ass is the nicest,” he adds.

“Thank you," you laugh and kiss his cheek.

You lean back on your hands and tilt your head towards your shoulder. This time Peter feels warmth rushing elsewhere.

“You wanna know what I was thinking about during the whole lesson?”

He nods.

“I was thinking,” you look around to make sure no one else is close enough to hear, “about how I can’t wait to have your dick in my mouth.”

Peter’s heart starts beating twice as fast as it usually does, “My-my- my dick? In your- why would— do you want it to be in your mouth?”

“I do. I had a dream about it last night. And I was gonna wait until tonight to do it but maybe we should do it now to relax you.”

“I.. don’t know if relax is the right word,” he says.

“I’ll do it to show you that I only like you then. And because I really need you.”

Peter’s face falls, “No, shit, I have this class now… no, nevermind, let’s go to my room–”

“No, we said our education and college come first, and that we wouldn’t let our academic performance fall off because of each other.”

“Yeah but I didn’t know that that meant saying no to you…” he looks at his lap and back at you again. 

“To me sucking your dick?” You’re teasing him on purpose now but despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants he’s enjoying it.

“Y-yeah..”

“Go to your class now and I’ll see you tonight,” you kiss him and get up.

“No wait–”

“Bye, baby,” you call out and walk away.

A class has never lasted as long as Peter’s next class. He leaves his bunched up hoodie on his lap the whole time even though he’s cold in just the shirt he’s wearing.

After class, he runs home, going to his dorm room first but you’re not there so he rushes to your room instead. You open the door as if Peter hasn’t been suffering for the past two hours, giving him a quick kiss and sitting back down to read a book.

He gets on his knees in front of you, putting his hands on your thighs, “Please. You can’t be serious right now. I need you.”

You pat the bed next to you and he lies down with a sigh, hoping to get your attention but you keep reading; maybe he can take a nap to make the time pass quicker. You pretend to read for another minute or two and then grin at Peter and straddle him, starting to kiss him. 

“Sorry, I thought it would be fun to tease you but I don’t know what I was thinking. I really want you.”

He’s panting into your mouth after a few moments, already feeling relief as you pull at his belt, taking off Peter’s pants and your and his shirt.

“Let me know uh, how I’m doing,” you say as you get down on your knees in front of the bed.

Your words clear Peter’s mind for a second and he leans down to give you a kiss, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, by the way.”

You shake your head, “No, I really want to. I just don’t know what to do, so, be patient with me.”

“Always,” he reaches for your hand to kiss it, “So I guess you just– oh my god.” He moans as your mouth wraps around him, all wet and warm.

He makes the mistake of looking at you, the head of his cock in your mouth, your pretty lips against his skin, eyes big and gorgeous and so innocent. He’s close so quickly and motions for you to stop.

“Everything okay?” You ask, already knowing what’s going on though. Peter’s eyes go to your chest, perfect tits pushed together by a pretty bra. If you take that off he doesn’t want to know how fast he’ll cum.

“Yes, more than okay. I love you so much, you know that?”

“I do, but Peter, this is torture for me,” you say seriously.

“What?” He sits up straighter.

“I wanna make you cum so so bad, please just let me, I don’t care how long you last.” You sound so horny that it makes Peter’s cock just that much harder in the way only happens when he’s with you, never when he’s alone.

“Okay. But try to go slow, I wanna enjoy it as long as I can.”

You smirk and he already knows you’ll give it your all, but while he wants to enjoy it as long as possible, he also really wants to cum.

You wrap a hand around him, slapping his dick against your tongue a few times, putting on a show for him. But once you wrap your lips around him, there’s no stopping you.

Peter’s skin glistens with a mixture of your spit and his precum and you keep taking him deeper and deeper until all of him disappears in your mouth. “Fuuuck,” he groans, huffing with a smile, accepting that he’s about to cum.

You start going faster, your wet mouth making a loud, obscene sound against his skin. Peter lies down on his back, barely able to keep his noises in.

“God– oh my god. This is the best thing I’ve ever felt,” his mouth falls open as he cranes his neck to look at you taking his dick. He puts a hand on your head, feeling your every movement up and down his cock.

He cums right down your throat as soon you start moaning, mouth stuffed full of Peter’s dick. You taste the first few drops and then jerk him off so his cum lands on your cheek and the sight is so dirty yet so beautiful.

You’re both panting when Peter is finished and you’re smiling at each other, in silent agreement that that was one of the hottest things you two have ever experienced. Your smile has something shy to it too, unsure how you look with Peter’s cum on your face.

But he’s looking at you with pure admiration, not believing how lucky he is for a bit before pulling you up to kiss you.

“Wait, Pete, you’ll get cu–”

“I don’t care.”

He kisses your mouth, and tasting himself on you is the sexiest thing in the world. He kisses his cum off your skin, connecting your lips afterwards, his tongue in your mouth until the cum is gone.

He wipes his mouth, asking something he’s been thinking about for a while, and he can’t go a second longer without it. “Do you wanna sit on my face?”

You’re taking off your clothes before the question even fully leaves his mouth and he takes in the sight of the prettiest woman alive getting undressed in front of him, for him.

He licks his lips when you slip out of your panties, the holy place between your legs shiny with arousal that’s started running down your thighs.

“You’re so wet.. from going down on me?” He asks, grabbing your thighs as you come closer, straddling him.

You simply nod and while you’re making your way up Peter’s body there’s a moment where your eyes meet for more than a few seconds. You don’t say anything, there’s just mutual appreciation and adoration for one another.

This is something good. Maybe it’s the best thing in the world. It is the best thing in the world.

“I love you,” he says, feeling so much more than those three simple words.

“I love you,” you say, your eyes holding such intensity that he doesn’t think there’s a single person in the world who has ever been as loved as Peter is by you.

He hopes he’s making you feel like the Goddess he sees you as, he adores every inch of you, all the things you’ve ever said to him and every second he’s spent with you.

The moment feels like it goes on forever, and at some point, you both move your heads towards each other, lips meeting in a kiss.

He grabs your ass, ready to drown in your pussy and to make you cum as many times as you want.

“Can I…?” You ask as you lower yourself. 

Peter pulls you towards his face and makes love to you all night. 

You spend the rest of the weekend in each other’s arms, feeling like the luckiest people on earth and you probably are.

☆.｡.:*support a writer and reblog if you enjoyed, it helps out a lot.｡.:*☆

#peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #Peter Parker x you #Peter Parker x y/n #Spiderman x reader #Spiderman smut #peter parker fluff #fem!reader #college!Peter Parker #Peter Parker fanfiction #spider man: no way home #peter parker #tom holland #Peter Parker college au #peter parker friends to lovers

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All the Good Girls Go To Hell 17

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, injury, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: people are testing me today.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You idle across the street from your mother's place, staring at the white siding and dreading your next move. You don't know what to say even as you rehearse a dozen different takes in your head. You can admit you’re wrong, but that’s the problem. You’re not. Something inside you wants you to resist but you never been very good at being stubborn.

Naomi leans against the door, half-awake. You're worried about her too. She's still out of it. Even after eating, she barely has any energy. 

You shift into gear and slowly pull into the driveway. Better to just get it over with. You don't have much of a choice. You need somewhere to stay. If only your father would answer his phone.

You play with the dangling keychain and leave the keys in the ignition. You won't bring Naomi in right away, that'll only trigger your mother. One step at a time.

"Hang out here," you turn up the radio, "I'll try not to be long."

She murmurs and nestles into the door. How did your summer end up such a mess? You want to blame her but she's just so pathetic. Steve definitely caused a lot of shit too. He seems like the most obvious culprit in all of this.

You get out of the car and as you head up the walkway, you hear your name behind you. Speak of the devil. You ignore Steve as you march up to the door. He catches up and latches onto your arm. You face him as he holds a cardboard tray of coffee in his free hand, barely keeping it from tipping as you try to wrench away.

"Let go--"

"Wait a minute, sweetie, I just wanna talk."

"I don't want to talk to you--"

"And you think your mom wants to talk to you? You haven't even called these last few days. You hurt her. I'm offering you a favour here, I can make her listen to you."

"What are you even talking about? How about I tell her about your wife? Maybe she'll listen then."

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, looking towards the car, "and what are you going to tell her about that slut? Hmm? Your mom wouldn't be very proud to have you hanging out with some OnlyFans whore. She certainly wouldn't appreciate those photos of you in front of the mirror."

"What photos?"

"Don't play dumb, honey," he lets his hand slide down your arm, "she was showing them off at the party. Everyone saw you with your tits half out."

"Stop!"

"I'm tryna make you a deal. You keep your mouth shut, I'll do the same," he winks.

You yank away from him and puff out, "whatever. She's my mother. She'll believe me."

"Did she believe you before?" He asks as you spin on your heel. "When you lied about me the first time?"

"I didn't--" You keep from arguing as you approach the door. You let yourself in as Steve follows. You quickly shut the door and lock it from the other side.

You wander in cautiously, listening to the silence of the house. You enter the kitchen as you hear the faucet running. Your mother stands at the sink rinsing out a carafe.

"Hey, mom," you squeak.

She turns her head and looks at you from the corner of her eye. She doesn't say a word as she returns her attention back to her task. You exhale and come closer.

"Mom, I'm... I'm sorry. Really. This summer's been so weird and I think-- maybe I overreacted. About Steve? It's a lot of change--"

"I know it's a lot of change," she slams the faucet off and plunks down the carafe, "I got a divorce, I had to be alone in this house for months, and I find someone to keep me company and you have to try to ruin it all."

"No, mom, I wasn't. I swear, I just... there's something I need to tell you about Steve."

"I don't want to hear it. Whatever lies you've come up with now."

"I ran into him last night and I have to tell you--"

A pounding comes at the door and Steve hollers through, "hello!"

"Save it," she waves you off and storms out of the kitchen.

You trail her as she goes to unlock the front door. Steve strolls in, presenting his tray of coffee, "hey, hon, thought I'd surprise you with a good morning."

"Oh, sweetie," your mother fawns and gives him a kiss as he tilts his head down.

"I thought I saw you," he nods at you past your mother, "welcome home, kiddo."

You frown. Your mother turns back to send you a bitter look. You give a helpless shrug.

"Mom, please, listen to me. He's not what he seems."

"Stop," she warns.

"I won't. I'm trying to protect you, okay?" You throw up your hands, "ask him about his wife."

Silence. Your mother's forehead wrinkles and she lifts a single brow. She gives a guilty look and peeks at her feet evasively.

"I know about his wife, sweetheart, alright? That's how we met. In a group. We're both divorcing so naturally--"

"He's not divorcing her. I saw them last night--"

"Look, Yvette, I didn't want to worry you. Wanda called me last night. She got wasted again and I had to drive her home. I know, it's awkward but I just felt bad leaving her somewhere in that condition," Steve says somberly, "you know, I thought separating might clean her up..."

"Oh, sweetie, it's okay. I understand," your mother preens at him, "you're so caring and she takes advantage of that--"

"No, I saw him with her. They were--"

"Why don't you tell your mom where you saw me carrying out my drunk ex? Hmm? I'm sure she'd like to know about the old man you've been entertaining. The one who bought you those shiny new glasses."

Your mouth drops open. Oh no. Oh. That sounds a lot worse than the truth. You sputter and look your mom in the face. She's mortified.

"Old man?" 

"No, I was at Naomi's, I swear. My glasses broke so her dad--er, Bucky, he--"

"An older man? Her father? You..."

"No, mom, it's not like that. I didn't do anything with him. I wouldn't. He's like... he's Steve age."

"And that makes it even more nasty, he could be your father."

"Noooo, no. No. I'm not-- I'm not involved with him. I was just hanging out with Naomi--"

"Oh, and such a good influence she is," your mother hisses, "she's really rubbed off on you, hasn't she?"

"Mom!" You shout.

"Do not raise your voice with me. I have put up with you long enough. Running out, disappearing on me for days, lying to me, and on top of all that, making those gross allegations against Steve," she snarls, "You are not welcome in my house."

"Mom," you gulp.

"That might work on that old man you're messing around with but you're an adult now. You can take care of yourself--"

"Mom, no, I didn't... I wouldn't... you can't really think that I'm like that?"

"I don't know what to believe with you," she sniffles, "you just can't stand to see me happy, can you? You're just like your father, you're selfish."

"Please, list-en--"

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" She shrieks and covers her ears, turning and devolving into quaking tears. Steve puts down the tray and swiftly wraps an arm around her, pulling her head to his chest. He smirks at you over her head, "you've done enough. Oh, Steve, get her out. Get her out!"

You're stunned. Speechless. You've never seen your mother like this. Her and your dad argued but she was always so calm. What did he do to her?

"Yvette," he says softly, "at least let her grab some stuff before she goes."

Your mother whimpers as she clings to him, "oh, you are too nice, Steve, too nice..."

"It's okay, I'll make sure she goes after she packs a bag. Come on, why don't you go outside and have your coffee," he reaches for a cup and pulls it free of the cardboard tray, "let me get you settled, alright?"

Your mother blubbers as Steve carefully leads her away. You shake your head and stomp towards the stairs. You can't believe this. That man is a psychopath and he's got your mother all twisted.

You go to your room and find it in a state. What the hell? Your panty drawer gapes open and several pairs are strewn on the floor. You sift through and grab a handful, shoving them into a bag with some shirts and a couple pairs of jeans. You don't have a plan beyond filling your duffel bag.

You go to your bed but keep from putting the bag there. You notice the white string crust only your pillow. Ew. Oh my god. He-- You shudder and back away.

Laptop, charger, a bunch of odds and ends before you head for the door. 

Steve meets you at the bottom of the stairs. You stop a few steps above and glare at him.

"I'm leaving. Move."

"Sweetie, if you need somewhere to go..."

"You are deranged."

"I'll take care of you. Wanda would really like you, I think."

You suck in air and barrel down, shoving past him. He curls you up in his arms and pulls you against him, flush to you as he rubs his pelvis against you. You squeal and wriggle in his grasp.

"Feel how hard I am? Not as bad as when I came in your bed. Fuck, I nearly choked on your panties--"

"Get off!" You elbow him and he releases you reluctantly.

"Think she'll let me fuck her in there? I mean, so far, she's let me do whatever I want--"

You swing your bag at him and stammer. You are repulsed to your core. You feel as if you could wretch. You don't want to leave your mother with him but you have no choice. Just as she said, she's an adult, she can take care of herself.

"I would never touch you. You're a disgusting old man," you yell and bluster away, "I hope you rot."

You charge out the door and try to escape the lingering warmth of his touch. He makes your skin crawl. You’ve never felt anything so visceral and vile. You open the back door of the car and toss your bag in before slamming it and plopping in the front seat. As you hit the locks, Naomi taps her finger on her phone and tucks it under her leg.

You blink and look at her. You grip the wheel as the card idles, the AC cranked to full blast. You exhale and let your shoulders slump. “We can’t stay– were you talking to someone?”

“Uh, yeah, Harry,” she wets her lips with her tongue, “he’s having a party.”

“Oh, a party,” you face forward and buckle your seat belt, “do you think that’s a good idea? After last night?”

“Why not? It’ll give us some time away, to hide out. What were you saying? That we can’t stay here? So, where else do we go?”

You nod and frown. You wish you had a different answer but it seems she has the only one. You really don’t want to go hang out with her old crowd but the alternative is hardly preferable.

“You have to promise me to pace yourself. Naomi, I don’t want to be peeling you off the floor again.”

She’s quiet. You rest your hand on the shifter and look at her. She has the grace to look guilty.

“Why do you care so much?” She asks; not accusative, more disbelieving, as if you’re wasting your energy.

“Because you deserve it. You’re a person and I like you, Nay. You’re a bit lost but you’re my friend. To be fair, I’m a bit lost, too.”

You pull the stick back and push down on the pedal, reversing out of the driveway. You crank the wheel and set yourself straight. You languish in the dull buzz of the radio, the volume cranked just above silent. You furrow your brow as your memory tweaks sharply.

“Naomi,” you say, “did you show Steve those pictures?”

“What pictures?”

“The ones from the bathroom. He said–”

“No, I told you, I wouldn’t. Those were just for me. For both of us.”

You grip the wheel tighter, “ but how did he know about them?”

She clucks and sits back. You glance at her from the rearview. She seems genuinely perplexed as she holds her forehead.

“Do you think maybe Bucky told him about it? He walked in on us. Maybe he didn’t see the pictures, maybe he just heard?”

You roll your tongue and think, clamping your lips together. You know you can’t trust Steve or anything he says. She could be right. He could be exaggerating for effect, just like he does with your mom.

“You aren’t lying to me?” You ask sternly, stopping at the red sign.

“Really, I wouldn’t… I might be okay sharing my pictures but I wouldn’t do that to you. Those pictures… they’re special…” she puts her hands in her lap and twiddles her thumbs, “you’re so gorgeous in them.”

Your cheeks heat up at the unexpected compliment. You steer on and chew your lip before mustering an answer, “thanks, that’s sweet.” You roll past the next intersection, “um, Nay? I don’t know where Harry lives?”

“Yessss,” she claps her hands, “we’re going to have fun. Forget about all that drama.”

You nod, hoping she’s right. You’d give anything to not feel, to not think, to be bound up with the knots of anxiety clustered in your chest and stomach. Maybe Naomi’s way is better. Just one night of fun can’t be bad, right?

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #Fic #Dark fic #Dark!fic #Series #all the good girls go to hell #Au #Marvel #Mcu #captain america #Avengers #Winter soldier

[picnokinesis]

plottier / character focused thirteenth doctor fic recs

Ipseity by WalkerLister (43k, 10 chapters, gen) summary: Eight months since the Doctor sacrificed herself on Gallifrey, and Yasmin Khan is still struggling to move on. However, when she comes across a familiar face who is not acting like herself, Yaz may finally get the answers she has been looking for surrounding the Doctor. However, those answers will be revealed in a way a bit more dangerous than she had been anticipating. //Okay, so no one is surprised that I like the amnesiac!divisioned!13 fic, but in my defence, it's absolutely fabulous. This one was written waaaaay back in mid-2020, so we all knew that 13 was in prison and everyone was pretty sure that Jack was coming back due to some bts detective work, but that was about it - so, for obvious reasons, it doesn't align with ROTD, but it's such a fun one, guys, I love it a lot. Also, y'know, thirteen in a leather jacket and snarling at people? What more could you want?

don't have to make it to the moon by Ymae (28k, 7 chapters, gen/thoschei) summary: After New Year's, Ryan decides to stay traveling in the TARDIS for another little while. Only, the Doctor's rarely alright, and between experiencing the wonders of the universe, Ryan wants to figure out what's happening to his friend, too. //I love Ryan so much. He's such a wonderful character and I always love it when fics focus on him, or have him as the pov character. Unfortunately, fics like that are a bit few and far between, but this is one of them, and it's absolutely fantastic. It really delves into his character, but also his dynamic with the Doctor (especially after he talks to her in ROTD and she admits that she's scared and angry), and it's just auuuuuuugh so good!! And, it's also go some great whump and psychic content, with the Master showing up to cause trouble, alongside some gorgeous world-building, so I enjoy it very very much.

Ghost War by riptheh (25k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: All the Doctor wants to do is pass the time, and help a friendly face. So when a young man with a strange tattoo and a psychic wound shows up, she dives right into the mystery - and finds herself flung far into the future, mindwiped and alone, fighting a war that by all rights, shouldn't exist at all. A war she could help end, if only she could figure out who she is. //Oof, this one. It's absolutely stunning. This author really has a way of taking some absolutely fascinating and mind-bending concepts and just running with it, and just nails it each time. I feel like the less I say about the plot of this one, the better, because it sort of unfolds as you go, but please just trust me when I say that it's absolutely fantastic.

Lifelines by Sue_Denham (40k, 11 chapters, gen, wip) summary: Lifeline: a thing on which someone or something depends, or which provides a means of escape from a difficult situation. Set just after the events of Spyfall, the Doctor has a few things to work through. //Okay this fic is one of my favourites that's been posting over the last year or so - it's a brilliant exploration of Graham and Thirteen, and how different races deal with loss, guilt and death. I honestly think the best kind of sci fi takes concepts that we sort of take for granted, and then shows them in a completely new light. That's what this fic does. Also, Graham is just wonderful for the entire thing - though, as a note, Yaz and Ryan do end up somewhat side-lined, so bear that in mind if you're particularly looking for fics about those two, but I forgive it because it's such a great look at Graham and the Doctor. It feels like a character focused tie-in novel, y'know? Also it's pretty angsty in places, naturally, but that's what I'm here for haha.

Disordered by Echo (44k, 7 chapters, jack/13) summary: Messing with memories is always a risky business. Messing with your own memories, now that's just asking for trouble. The Doctor is very good at asking for trouble. And Jack is very good at finding it. //Ohhhhh okay so. This has been one of my absolute favourite Doctor Who fics for a long while. Definitely the shippiest of this list, but it's so lovely and such an excellent look at the Doctor facing the consequences of trying to get back her Division memories in the aftermath of s12, as well as the relationship between the Doctor and Jack across multiple regenerations. It's just so so good, flowing smoothly from very angsty to very soft, and the Doctor and Jack's voices are just spot on (especially considering that we see different versions of the Doctor, this is a particularly impressive note). Highly recommend!

The Trial of the Doctor by wreckageofstars (20k, 5 chapters, gen/thasmin, wip) summary: Haven is a planet at the edge of time, on the brink of destruction. Ravaged by the Time Lords and a war that time forgot, its people are desperate for justice before it’s too late, and the Doctor might be the only being left in the universe who can provide it — because she was the one who started it. So why can't she remember doing it? //Okay okay so, this one has only recently started posting but I've known about it since about 2020 and ohhhhhhhhhhh my goodness, GUYS. If you're not following this one, you need to be. It's a mix between Doctor Who at it's finest, Kafka at it's most unsettling, and Douglas Adams at it's most absurd, and it's delightful. There's so much in this one, and as always this author is just spot on with all the characterisation - especially Thirteen, who suddenly finds herself being prosecuted for a crime that she can't remember, and is forced into a situation where she's physically incapable of telling a lie. It. Is. Marvellous. Also there's a cockroach lawyer, whom I adore HAHA

lighthouse keeper by BlueLillyBlue (57k, 12 chapters, gen) summary: The Doctor is missing, and the fam is concerned. Featuring Yaz being a badass, Ryan being a cutie, Graham being a granddad, Jack being Jack, and the Doctor's complicated moral code. Also: space prisons, galactic war, the Doctor's time war trauma, the Doctor caring about people in her own weird and repressive way, and, most importantly, Thirteen wearing Jack's coat. //Oh, this one is such a favourite of mine. It's very angsty, so if that's not your schtick then - well, then you're kinda scuppered for all of my recs, to be honest, but this one is a bit on the dark side. Oh, but it's fantastic. Again, this one feels like a tie-in novel, and this author (as I think I've said before) is just incredible at crafting these very vivid worlds and really hard-hitting stories. The situation is pretty dire and desperate, and the Doctor is often faced with the fact that not every plan works out, and sometimes the only choices are bad ones. It's just really excellent guys (also! Thirteen in Jack's coat!!)

angel ellipsis by SleepyMaddy (36k, 8 chapters, gen/thoschei) summary: When the Doctor and Yaz find a planet in ruins, they’re only half surprised to discover the Master is responsible. But when his plan backfires, suddenly they have no choice but to work with him to stop his former allies from tearing the universe apart. It goes about as well as one might expect. //OKAY SO. This one is SO much fun and SO great - in particular, if you like the Master being a tricky bastard, but also getting screwed over by his own plans? You'll love this one. Everything about it is so vibrant and brilliant, and aaaaaahh man it all comes together in such a satisfying way. As with many of the authors on this list, this author just really gets these characters and how they tick, with some absolutely beautiful prose, and it's just such a joy to read.

nothing in the dark that isn't there in the light by river_of_words (6k, 1 chapter, thasmin) summary: Two weeks since Yaz got the most confusing rejection she ever hopes to get and the Doctor seems to have decided to blame Yaz for every single one of her furiously conflicting emotions. At this point she’s sort of asking to get hit. And at this point Yaz is sort of curious to find out what the Doctor is going to say that’s going to make her meet that request. //These next two fics are a lot shorter compared to the others, but I really wanted to include both of them because they're great and SO interesting to me. With this one, it digs into the Doctor and Yaz's relationship in the aftermath of LOTSD, and the ways that the Doctor does not actually talk about anything but does also tell Yaz more than anyone else. It's about the frustration that builds between them and the way that they're still finding more comfort in each other than anyone else. It's also a little feral, which as a thoschei shipper, definitely had a lot to do with why I liked this one haha. Anyway, it's really fantastic - really quick paced and emotional, and packing a LOT of punches with mostly dialogue in a very effective way. Go read it!

we'll do it right by daring_elm (3k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: She's never really noticed Yaz's perfume before. Shoulders relaxing, nausea subsiding, the Doctor inhales again, filling her lungs with jasmine and sandalwood, steel and glowing crystals and her box out of time. She can be back with Yaz within minutes of her leaving. She can save the child, change the foundation of Gallifrey and still return to have a picnic on Soria T4.  //Okay so I loooove love love this one because I just adore it any time someone explores the Doctor's reaction to the Timeless Child stuff after the fact, and this one is just so wonderful. The characterisation is just fantastic, and then just the progressive spiral of the plot as we follow the Doctor on a mission that is doomed to fail by the nature of her own timeline. It's about how by trying to change the past, all you do is mess up your present and your future, and I love that a lot. Augh, it's a gut punch and a half - highly recommended!

#doctor who #thirteenth doctor #yasmin khan #ryan sinclair #graham o'brien #dhawan!master #thoschei #spydoc #thasmin #captain jack harkness #long post #doctor who edit #dwedit #doctor who fic #thirteen #the doctor #fic #fic rec #yessssss another one!!! #probably the last one for a while unless inspiration strikes #but ahhhhhhhhhh yes i love these fics a LOT #taka edits #the ryan picture for ymae's fic doesn't quiiiiiiite fit but it was so gorgeous i had to use it #the trial fic one though....SKSKSK i'M SO PROUD OF THAT #had to make the lighting red and it was a PAIN #anyway reblog and share the love!! #and share any other recs if you have them!

[patrophthia]

just curious | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

genre: angst, mutual pining (but they don’t get together boo 👎👎👎 me), theodore wears glasses (yes that’s it’s own genre), reader is called princess by everyone bc i didn’t want to use yn in this

wc: 2.2k

note: i wrote this in two hours while listening to super shy - new jeans (intended for it to be a cute fic) and ended up with this angsty little piece, it’s a wip i ended up abandoning but am putting it up for anyone who might like that sexy pining genre of not ending up tgt, also was gonna stay on my docs but got too emotionally attached to not post it (you better talk to me about this theo or i will cry)

Theodore is a friend of Draco. That's how you know him. Theodore Nott: the tall, cute, and quiet friend of Draco's who's eyes —when he smiles, like really smile, curves upwards in an adorable manner. Theodore who, whenever you were to hang out with Draco's friend group, keeps a closed off expression that is so hard to gauge and read that you gave up the second time you met the lad.

The door clicks open and you prepare yourself for what's to come next, taking in a deep breath as you try your hardest to play it cool. Theodore steps into Draco's living room, shopping bags in his hand as Pansy follows him from a few steps behind.

You try not to think too much of it, friends hold shopping bags for their friends all the time, it's only natural. Pansy smiles when she meets your eyes, her voice soft as she nags you on why she hasn't seen you in so long. "Draco ought to bring you around more, I know you're his friend before ours but there's no reason for him to keep you to himself like he does."

Draco scoffs at that, "it's not like I don't invite her, she just doesn't want to come to stuff."

That's not exactly true though. You do want to come to stuff —if anything you loved going to them, Draco's friends have always been very welcoming and accommodated to your every need; it's just that every time you were to spend time with them, it seems like you can't take your eyes off of one particular person (hint: it's not Draco himself).

And quite honestly, you doubted whether he even knows your name. "In my defence, work has been hectic," you deflect with a small laugh, your eyes betrays you and drift to where the real reason stood. Theodore meets your eyes straight on, and offers you a nod as if he's only noticing you now and was saying his greetings. Yeah, he definitely does not know your name. "But I'm here now so let's enjoy it."

Pansy pouts but let's up when Astoria calls for your group of friends from the kitchen, Blaise right behind her with an apron wrapped around his stature. "Well?" He cocks his head. "What are we waiting for?"

Dinner went by smoothly, mostly Blaise stuffing you with his cooking and Pansy catching up with; asking every question she could possibly think of. You didn't mind if for the most part, actually quite enjoying the attention as the group went on and on. "You're shy, aren't you?"

The question is weird, and not exactly directed at you so you turn back to your plate as you take a bite of Blaise's lasagna (Draco helped cook the noodles for this, he wants you to keep this in mind). You feel something kick mid-chew, looking up to the person sitting opposing you; only to see Theodore with his full focus on Pansy.

You turn to her as well and she laughs as she repeats her words. "You're shy, aren't you?"

"Not really?" You don't think you are, not really. You're just trying your hardest not to make it obvious that you're interested in someone at this very table who does not seem to be interested in you one bit. "At least I don't think I am."

Astoria laughs kindly, finding you cute as she says: "you've just been quiet today, you're never like this with Draco and I."

Yeah well Draco and Astoria weren't plaguing your every thought every time you were within one metres of them. "Oh." you murmur. "I guess I'm a bit tired today."

"Work?" Blaise suggests and you shake your head. "What is it then?"

"Just Boy problems," you say off-handedly, quickly regretting it when their faces turn to one of interest. "But it's nothing big, I promise."

"Are you seriously going to tell us that and not elaborate?" Draco looks offended, hell, he feels offended that you weren't elaborating. "What did that dickhead do?"

Your heart warms at the fact that your friend cares about you enough to immediately hate on whoever might be causing you boy problems but are quick to dismiss the situation. "Nothing, drop it."

From the look on their faces, it looks as if they weren't going to drop it anytime soon. Pansy opens her mouth, ready to say something when Theodore clears his throat, letting you hear his voice for the first time tonight. "Why don't you tell them about who you saw at the shops today, Pans."

Her eyes light up suddenly, going off on how she ran into her scumbag of an ex boyfriend as she was shopping for a new dress. Your eyes found Theodore's, sending him a small smile as you mentally note down on how you'd have to thank him for it later.

And when he offers you a small smile in return, his dark eyes softening —yet not enough for you to see those half moons you hold oh so dear to your heart, you try to remind yourself that he is nothing but a man doing the bare minimum.

"Stay the night," Astoria says softly, "it's late, Princess. I can't have you heading back on your own at this hour."

As much as it sounded pleasant, you can't help but feel like you might be intruding their night (even though you've spent countless night crashing at their place after a bad break up before, you guess that it's just different now that you weren't staying to cure a broken heart with a comforting shoulder —Astoria— and someone bad mouthing your ex —Draco—). "I can't," you tell them. "And trust me, I'll be fine."

Draco isn't chuffed by your answer, looking apprehensive as he thought everything over. Blaise and Pansy left for their shared apartment mere minutes ago so it wasn't like he could ensure your safety with them. But someone else was still here though, "Nott, can you take her home?"

Theodore startles from his spot by the coat rack, pausing with one arm in his coat as he looks at Draco like a deer caught in headlights. Cute. He then glances at you before hesitantly nodding.

This is bad. Oh god. Okay.

"Great," Astoria says with a smile. "Take care of our Princess, please." She then turns to look at you. "Call me when you get home safely, okay?"

At your nod, she hugs you goodbye and sends you out the door. Theodore walking slowly by your side. He's silent when he opens his car door for you and you try your best not to swoon. "Thank you."

He hums in acknowledgment as he walks over to the driver's side, Theodore does a double check to make sure you had your seatbelt on before he started the car. The ride is quiet, save from the song playing from the radio; a familiar tune you can't place a finger on.

He asks for your directions and you tell him, sneaking glances as you did so. His hair is longer than it was the last time you saw him —but to be fair, it has been months since you did; a few dark strands cover his eyes and you resist the urge to reach out and push them away. Maybe even taking out a hair clip from your purse to pin it back just so he wouldn't have to deal with it again.

It's calm and overwhelming at the same time, sitting so still and tranquil next to Theodore like this. You want to say something, you want him to say something; anything if meant you get to hear his voice again. If it meant you get a chance to memorise it and compartmentalise it in a folder that is ardently his.

"Oh thank you by the way." He looks at you for a split second before turning his focus back to the road. "For switching the topic back there."

Theodore only nods and you try not to cry. Why won't he speak? It's almost like he doesn't even want you to be interested in him.

"I really do appreciate it."

He hums this time around, a low note vibrating from his chest. It's either a nod or a hum, that's all you're ever going to get from Theodore, huh?

You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking straight at the road as you did so. Should you even attempt to make small talk? All your attempts have been futile so far so why even try. You didn't mean to huff, or at least not as loud as you did, your arms instinctively as you looked out the window absentmindedly.

This catches Theodore's attention though, prompting to finally say something. "Thinking about those boy problems again?"

You don't answer him, you don't let yourself feel the satisfaction of finally hearing him speak for the second time tonight. You don't say anything related to that topic whatsoever. "Do you have a girlfriend, Theodore?"

You can hear the hitch in his breath, see the surprise in his rapid blinks, feel the shift in the air. The car pulls to a stop at a red light, the tail lights of a car a few metres in front of you shines your faces the same shade.

He looks at you and you hope —no pray, that he doesn't notice the sparkle in your eyes as you look at him. Or maybe you do, you can't tell anymore. The only thing you can tell is that you are so incredibly into Theodore Nott, and him driving you home is not helping your case at all.

"No," he says earnestly. You don't let your eyes flicker to his lips, you don't let your eyes flicker to anything else but his eyes, trying to gauge him for something; anything, only to end up finding nothing.  "Why are you asking?"

A car honks from behind, breaking the two of you away from your trance. "Just curious."

You thank Theodore as he pulls to a stop outside your house, he —just like you would expect from Theodore Nott, only nods at your thanks. And when you bid him goodbye with one leg out of his car.

He tells you, "Goodnight, Princess."

Princess, that's what your friends called you. That's what Draco Malfoy called you at the ripe age of ten years old where the two of you would play royalty and would later be his favourite nickname for you, then further on your other friend's choice of name for you. That's what Theodore Nott calls you because he does not know your name.

"Goodnight, Theodore." You shut his car door behind you, and take a few steps to your front door before turning over your shoulder. Looking back at him at once, finding him reaching for his glasses within his glove compartment; ones with round wired frames that settle flatteringly on his high nose bridge. He shuts his glove compartment box and you turn back to your front door. And unbeknownst to you, with your back to him, Theodore turns to look at you once, and then, twice when you finally enter your house, before finally driving off and into the night.

Curiosity kills the cat, that’s what Theodore thinks as he unlocks his front door. Curiosity kills the cat, is what he reminds himself time and time again as he sheds off his jacket. Curiosity kills the cat, that’s what he knows from the start. But how could curiosity really kill the cat if it was already dying? 

If it had already yearned for something for long; a clenching thirst yet to be fulfilled, if it was already wailing to just be held, would curiosity really kill it then? 

It's weird. It's weird how —now that he thinks of it, he can't seem to recall you ever going on a date. Not a single one. While him on the other hand; yeah, he can't exactly count the amount of dates he’s gone on in the past month on one hand. 

It's not entirely his fault though, he’s trying to put himself out there; trying to find the one despite knowing that said one is constantly running around the back of his mind and was sitting in his passenger seat mere minutes ago. But he chooses to ignore it because one, it's wrong and there was no way you could ever reciprocate his feelings. And two, even if you were to reciprocate his feelings, he will never cross the line between platonic and romantic. 

He’d take the endless yearning over any potential heartbreak any day because the second he crosses the line, there's no turning back. And no amount of romantic feelings you might have for one another will make up for the years of friendship between him, you, and most importantly, Draco. The blond was your best friend before anything else, and he doubts you’d ever risk ruining your friendship for someone like him.

So, for now, he’d settled for the guilt he feels every time he sees you; he’ll hold back on his urges even though it’s clearer to him now, in this very night, than ever that you are as infatuated with him as he is with you. 

He’ll take off his glasses, he’ll place them by his bedside table, he’ll lay in his bed, cold and alone, he’ll try to fall asleep and not think of you, he’ll try and try to make it through tomorrow, make it through the date that Blaise had set up (yet again) for him that will inevitably be the worse hours of his life and think about what it be like had his date been you instead. 

— from bee: yeah i wrote this theodore with jeon wonwoo in mind so what about it?? theodore is so wonwoo coded idc idc

#ive been going through a svt brain rot lately and have just made theodore every single member of the group #jeon wonwoo as theodore nott makes my brain go brrrrrr #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott blurbs #theodore nott angst #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott angst #theo nott fanfiction #Spotify #🧳: my writing

[extant-exhaustion]

Can I ask your top 10 fav fics ever (from any fandom, if you don't mind)?

Also, just curious, is there a story behind your name "extant-exhaustion "?

Well, first of all, thank you so much for your patience! I know it took me seven weeks to reply to this Ask! I agonized over my list (also, the holidays happened, which kept me busy). But I finally narrowed it down, so here we go, in no particular order:

My Top 10 Favorite Fanfics

In Another Life by LittleLuxray Haikyuu!! | T+ | 23k | Bokuto/Akaashi | angst, sickfic | It's famous for a reason. Truly one of the best pieces of writing I've ever read, including published works—I've rarely cried so hard or been moved so much.

died in my dreams by MTrash Haikyuu!! | T+ | 10k | Ushijima/Tendou | futuristic/cyberpunk AU, opposites attract, reluctant work partners to friends to lovers | fantastic characterization, really cool conceptually, a story about trauma and healing and finding your person

the weight of water by wordstruck/@redluxite Haikyuu!! | M | 6k | Iwaizumi/Oikawa | angst | Painful, soul-crushing heartbreak, but so, so beautiful. As someone who's experienced loss and grief, this story is visceral and the accompanying art haunts me.

Come and get lost with us by boxofwonder Haikyuu!! | M | 150k | Hinata/Kageyama, Daichi/Sugawara | action/adventure, Medieval AU(?) | unlike anything I've ever read before or since; a really masterful integration of an enormous cast and a plot that unravels with absolutely zero fluff or filler

shimmer in your shine by zenelly/@zenellyraen Hunter x Hunter | T+ | 91k | Leorio/Kurapika, Killua/Gon | American roadtrip AU | This story made me cry over a fist fight between Leorio and Illumi in the parking lot of a Red Lobster in Arkansas.

The Myth of Mankind by MistressEast/@mistresseast Promare | T+ | 63k | Galo/Lio | action/adventure, romance | masterful worldbuilding, kickass fight scenes, intrigue galore, falling in love while preventing mass murder? yes, please

A Second Chance To Say by KazimaKuwabara/@kazimakuwabara Yu Yu Hakusho | M | 92k | Yusuke/Kuwabara, Youko Kurama/Kuronue | action/adventure, hurt/comfort | ft. Kuronue's eternal sass and unwavering friendship, the slow burn of reincarnated already-in-love KuwaMeshi (because Kuwabara doesn't remember it), somewhat menacing levels of intrigue, and Hiei finally winning MVP of emotions on Team Urameshi

Don't Blink or You'll Miss It (Lift Up Your Head) by umisabaku/@umisabaku Kuroko no Basuke | M | 81k | Kagami/Kuroko, Kasamatsu/Kise, Midorima/Takao, Himuro/Murasakibara, Aomine/Momoi | super powers | This story and its accompanying series are so cool and so unique. The characterization is amazing and the worldbuilding is stellar.

neither fish, flesh, nor foam by twoif interactive on Twine Kuroko no Basuke | Kagami/Kuroko | angst, Little Mermaid–esque, interactive storytelling | incredible, but also devastating; a story about how sometimes our doubts can destroy not only ourselves but the good things we build; one of the coolest things I've ever interacted with as a story, a true tour de force

Transient Shadow, True Light by seafoamist/@seafoamist Kuroko no Basuke | M | 322k, WIP | Kagami/Kuroko | angst, hurt/comfort, time travel, historical (Edo Period) | If you talk to me about this story, I will go absolutely feral, because it is my current obsession and the only WIP that is on this list. I'm straight-up insane about its quality and depth. I can't even put this story into words. It knocks the wind out of me.

And lastly, my URL doesn't actually have a story behind it! It's basically just my life, haha. “Extant” is an adjective meaning “ongoing/still in existence” and “exhaustion” is pretty obvious. Essentially, I like alliteration and thought it sounded better than "tired 100% of the time."

#kagakuro #kuwameshi #iwaoi #kagehina #bokuaka #daisuga #ushiten #leopika #killugon #galolio #kurokura #fic rec #ee: fic rec #ee: asks #hunter x hunter #hxh #kuroko no basuke #knb #kuroko's basketball #yu yu hakusho #yyh #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #hq #hq!! #promare

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

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1. hi!! for the next itmf, it was always spoken in the novel, and sometimes in fics how jfm favoured wwx over his children. despite the fact that as readers we definitely see the contrary, are there fics where this is true? where jfm actually prefers wwx's company over his children, or even just jc?? no wwx bashing pls, i just found out it exists and i hated every word of that fic. thank you!! <3

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2. Itmf fics where wangxian are on a battlefield fighting in a war. I love the angst of being in love in a place with little hope. @gentil-minou

The Vermillion Ribbon by Unforth (E, 233k, wangxian, Wen WWX, politics, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, hurt WWX, hurt LWJ, whump, serious injury, off-screen torture, hurt/comfort, angst, marriage of convenience, abusive father figures, panic attacks, trauma, ptsd, dissociation, pining, suicidal thoughts, miscommunication, touch starved LWJ, light dom/sub, feels, family feels, brotherly feels, LQR is a dick, abusive lan sect, emotional hurt/comfort, healing, recovery, Happy Ending)

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3. Hi! I think this is an ask for the itmf but I’m not sure actually :/ anyways I’ve had exams for about the last two months so I couldn’t read any new fics and now that I’m finally free I don’t know where to start! Can you rec the best (completed, wangxian) fics you’ve read in the last months? Thanks luv :D

The Scarlet Lotus by rainbowninja167 (M, 137k, WangXian, Marriage of Convenience, Secret Identity, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical war crimes, Yunmeng Bros, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication)

Going on charmingly by scribbet (T, 21k, WangXian, Teenage LWJ, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, WWX is BSSR's Disciple, Genius WWX, Petty LWJ, Meddling LXC, Canon Divergence, JFM Doesn't Adopt WWX, Technically pre-relationship, but in the typical Wangxian way of them being in deep but just not acknowledging it yet, POV LWJ)

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4. (This is my first time asking, so pwease pardon mistakes ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ ⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔ)

I'm in a mood for a fic where the drama version of Wangxian(or either one of them) meet the cql version! Thanks in advance ❤️ @dizzydandelionsandhyperhydrillas

The Young, the Horny, the Jaded and the Jade: Partners in Time by Admiranda (M, 55k, WIP, WangXian, Established couple, Crossover, road trip with your older selves, teasing your younger selves about their obvious crushes, yin iron does yin iron things, mdzs/cql crossover, adult wangxian, Teenage Wangxian) i don't know quite if it fits (asker said drama version meet cql (did they mean audio drama?)), but a potential for #4: post-canon novel wangxian meet teenage cql wangxian (WIP, very cute)

#9 of this post might have some recs you would like

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5. Hi, for the next in-the-mood-for, can I request fake!dating of the "I will be your intentionally annoying fake date to your family function / work do/ ex's wedding/etc" flavour. Many thank!

❤️ save a sword, ride a socialist by sysrae (E, 33k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, College/University, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Single Parent WWX, Homophobia, LQR’s A+ Parenting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Idiots to lovers)

Their Side of the Bargain by airinshaw (E, 21k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fake/Pretend Relationship, There Was Only One Bed, Getting Together, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Roommates, Minor ChengSang)

we don't need to talk about it by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 48k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fake Dating, the slimmest of premises, there was only one bedroom, There Was Only One Bed, kissing to prove you're dating, being idiots to prove you're dating, Pining while fucking, background NieLan)

The Mistletoe Virgin by Vamillepudding (G, 12k, WangXian, Modern AU, Romantic Comedy, Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Deaf LWH, Christmas)

Veritas by trickybonmot (E, 19k, WangXian, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Modern: No Powers, Humor, Mutual Pining, There Was Only One Bed, Jins Being Jins, Wine Bro JZX, Good Sibling JC, light consensual non-consent, Surprise Fix-it Fic, Weddings, Wine, Hijinks & Shenanigans)

Gremlin Twitter Boyfriend (Twitter thread) by nyanxian Podfic + transcript (T, 5-6H - 38k, wangxian, modern, Social Media, Failboats In Love, Twitter Fic, Pining, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Matchmaking, Podfic, Multiple Voices, Sound Effects, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Warning: Jokes about Suicide)

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6. has anyone found a fic where wwx tells jc to put him down if he becomes an actual threat to their family, and after it seems like jyl died, jc does mercy kill wwx as agreed?

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7. ITMF request! I have a hankering for fic where the Jiang siblings turn against LWJ b/c they think he's broken WWX's heart. Would love it to be CR arc era, but modern AU is okay too. I really just want JYL to go off on LWJ, either freezing him out or giving him a piece of her mind. No Jiang bashing, tho'. @kimboo-york

the earthquake in the room by phnelt (E, 39k, WangXian, College/University, Modern: No Powers, Canada, Getting Together, Mentions of lwj/others, inter-faculty romance, strangers to lovers to frenemies to lovers, mostly book characterisation) Modern AU, JYL engages in a cold war with LXC because LWJ doesn't know how to communicate his feelings to WWX and keeps hurting him

could you find a way to let me down slowly, if you're leaving baby let me down slowly by ravenditefairylights (M, 36k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, Implied/Referenced Sex, Miscommunication, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Dynamics, Hurt WWX, Mutual Pining, Unreliable Narrator, Self-Esteem Issues, Twin Prides of Yúnmèng Feels, Protective Siblings, Trauma, Slightly dubious consent, courtesy of drunk sex, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Phoenix Mountain, Chronic Pain, Getting Together, Fix-It of Sorts, One Braincell Trio, PTSD) has both Jiang siblings angry with LWJ after he and WWX sleep together while drunk, only for LWJ to run out the next morning

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8. Hi! Is there any fic where wwx and lwj really had their own garden? left the cultivation world (or maybe not) but they have a simple life

call me home and I'll build you a throne by ana_cp (E, 51k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Post-CQL, Canon Compliant, Getting Together, Developing Relationship, Gūsū Lán Juniors Dynamics, Touch-Starved Non-Sexual Intimacy, ... and then Sexual Intimacy, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Farmer WWX, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Mutual Pining, Communication, Quietly Falling Into a Married Life, Light Angst, (because they don't think they deserve each other), Wholesome, POV LWJ, POV WWX, LWJ in braids agenda, Sharing a Bed, WWX's Birthday, Semi-Public Sex, Inventor WWX, Jealous WWX)

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9. Hey for the next itmf post can you rec some post canon protective LWJ

Nice work if you can get it by deliciousblizzardshark (M, 11k, WangXian, Protective LWJ, Genius WWX, Post-Canon, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Soft WangXian, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, a very very small amount of smut, also a possessed squirrel, [Podfic] Nice work if you can get it by deliciousblizzardshark)

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10. itmf nmj refusing to swear brotherhood to jgy? could still do that with lxc and/or someone else! i would love to see the ramifications of that 💙

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11. In the mood for… I want to know if you all can share stories were A-Yuan is at Koi Tower when he's a child. Specially with Wei Wuxian. Fix its, time travel, second chance, anything where A-Yuan and Wangxian are happy at the end. Specially if the Wens are all alive and also having a chance for happiness!! Thank you!! Be well, Monica @monicaop21

To Mourn the Young Man by Iamnotawriter (T, 56k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, BAMF WWX, Most people live, but not the bad guys, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Hurt/Comfort, Golden Core Reveal)

changing the path by aurora_chiroptera (G, 2k, LSZ & WWX, WWX & JC, Canon Divergence, POV WWX, wn jzx and jl all appear briefly as well!)

~*~

12. any fics like three changes by orange crushed? something where they’re good friends before they get together? and/or ones that are kind of like a romantic comedies? @willesnelson

undone (the spreadsheet song) series by spookykingdomstarlight (E, 282k, wangxian, modern, Artists, Communication failure, Mutual Pining, mutual obliviousness, Demisexual WWX, Eventual Smut, Gossip, Getting Together, Mentions of Past Lan Wangji/OMCs, Crack Treated Seriously, Friends to Friends With Benefits to Lovers, LWJ's horniness for WWX accidentally turns him into a sex god with everyone except WWX (sorry WWX), POV WWX, Angst with a Happy Ending)

only bought this dress so you could take it off by mirrorofprinces (E, 13k, WangXian, Modern AU, Roommates/Housemates, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Crossdressing, well wwx wears slutty fashionnova outfits a lot, and lwj thinks about it a normal amount, Brief Misunderstandings, mentions of lwj/others, Bisexual WWX, Idiots in Love, Getting Together, let wwx be tan, let wwx have wavy hair, background NieLan, background sangcheng if you squint)

living in my memory/living in my mouth by tardigradeschool (T, 32k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reincarnation, Canon Divergence, College/University, Modern with Magic, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed, Nightmares, Light Angst, Epistolary, (sort of), POV Alternating, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers)

r/relationships by vespertineflora (T, 8k, WangXian, Modern AU, Social Media, Viral Reddit Post, Pining, Crushes, Friends to Lovers, Awkward Flirting, Romantic Gestures, Romantic Comedy, Love Confessions, Kissing, Happy Ending, r/relationships [podfic] by someplacelikebolivia)

🧡 Baby, You're the End of June by panicking (T, 24k, WangXian, Recreational Soccer, Modern AU, Single parent WWX, Fluff, Slow Burn, Mutual pining)

Lans Never Kiss and Tell by FeelsForBreakfast (E, 30k, WangXian, Modern AU, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Humor, lwj FUCKS, Mutual Pining, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, modern diaspora au)

our own kind of magic. by scarletwanlian (T, 18k, WangXian, Modern AU, 5+1 Things, Fluff, Humor, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Magic, Magical Realism, College/University, Slice of Life!, Witch!WWX, Banter)

live from new york by varnes (E, 87k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, This is a SNL AU, however the juniors are featured and there are lots of shenanigans!, slow burn, friends to lovers, pining, getting together, happy ending)

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13. ITMF: I know I had a fic in my bookmarks that involved the Cold Spring Cave refusing to let Wei Wuxian leave if he and Lan Wangji didn’t consummate the handfasting. I can’t find it, though, so I’m looking for fics like that with a fuck or die sort of feel. Found it lol, but would love other suggestions (In the Cold Dark by mondengel) @rosethornewrites

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14. Hello there! I've read a lot of fics where WangJi gets cursed with a truth spell or similar and he has to, like, speak his mind and can't shut up. But!!! I haven't read any with a cursed Wei WuXian! And I think it would be hilarious! He tends to minimize his worries and his pains and always jokes around everything, but what would happen if he had to be SINCERE?! Do you have fics like this to recommend??? @randomsuggestedname

i'm a drop in your ocean by starknjarvis (T, 11k, WangXian, truth curse, Post-Canon, so much dialogue, drama characterizations, Get Together, Truth Spells, Love Confessions) and Silence Like a Cancer Grows by julomaiboulomai (M, 12k, Yunmeng Siblings, LXC & WWX, truth curse, Suicidal Thoughts, Canon Divergence, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Dissociation, WWX Needs a Hug, Golden Core Reveal, LXC did not sign up for this, Hopeful Ending) both have WWX cursed to tell the truth.

~*~

15. Hi! I recently read an MDZS/Harry Potter Crossover where WWX & LWJ went to Hogwarts to help with something and now I just crave more MDZS crossovers where MDZS characters interact with other stories and are BAMFs, do any of you have any recommendations? (PS, It doesn't have to be Harry Potter, it can be any other story, I've read an MLB one I liked as well, so.) @i-like-snakes-and-spiders

Darkness shrouded in light by MomImBusy (T, 68k, wangxian, erasermic, crossover, BNHA, Canon Divergence, Mineta Minoru Doesn't Exist, WWX is a Little Shit, WWX is here to fuck some shit up, mentions of abuse, Courtesy of the entire mdzs cast, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Parental Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Angst,bBAMF WWX, Necromancy in a quirk world, WIP)

Diplomatic Incidents by Ariaste (M, 35k, WangXian, IB/DP, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Getting Together, Linguistics, Translation Spells, canon-typical borderline alcoholism, Fluff, a touch of angst for spice, being in love but not admitting you want to sleep together, Versus, sleeping together but not admitting you're in love, Post-Canon, post-canon for MDZS anyway, during-canon for DAI)

Come by it Honestly by ladyshadowdrake (M, 25k, Geraskier, WangXian, The Witcher Crossover, Crossover, Adventure)

Wei Wuxian Makes a Wish series by natcat5 (M, 119k, wangxian, major character death, underage, madoka magica au, modern w/ magic, time travel, high school au, body horror, self-harm, angst w/ bittersweet ending, time loop, mental instability, suicidal thoughts)

The Hanging Tree series by chatonnerie (T, 41k, wangxian, hunger games au, minor character death, violence, blood, limb loss, sickness, recovery, torture)

Wei Wuxian is the Actual Bogeyman (no, really) by chatonnerie (T, 57k, WangXian, Rise of the Guardians AU, Crack, not gonna lie, i mean they literally call wwx the bogeyman my poor brain could not resist, TW:Death, I mean, Jack Frost cannonically dies)

Castle in the Wastes by ailuridae (abigailnicole) (T, 41k, wangxian, Howl’s Moving Castle fusion, personified Chenqing, canon typical violence)

The Altogether Ooky WangXian Family by FluffyHippogriff (T, 57k, WIP, WangXian, 3Zun, Modern AU, Addams Family AU, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, mostly because death can be overcome with the help of a little necromancy, Kid Fic, Comedy)

Grandmaster of the Magical Arts series by HollowNightmare (T, 305k, WangXian, Hogwarts, Harry Potter Setting, Chinese Hogwarts?, Slice of Life, Developing Friendships, POV Alternating, lwj is an anxious bean, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort)

~*~

16. Hello! I wanted to ask if you know any WWX appreciative/wwx protection squad type of fics? I've check the wwx centric tag, everyone loves wwx tag and even the wwx protection squad tag itself but I'm having a hard time finding fics where other characters are protective over wwx (preferably at least 2 people

the thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break by RoseThorne (E, 88k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Soulmates, Self-Esteem Issues, Fix-It, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, PTSD, Handfasting, Panic Attacks, Getting Together, First Time, Aftercare, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Torture, Scars, Chronic Pain, Golden Core Reveal, First Time, Switching, sex-related injury, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, LSZ is a Wèi, Good Sibling JC, Dissociation, Burial Mounds Settlement Days)

🧡 rain falls and soaks into the earth series by RoseThorne (T, 53k, WangXian, WIP, Near Death Experience, Attempt Drowning, Madam Yu Bashing, Recovery, No war AU)

~*~

17. Hi! I just read the amazing fic "Say my name and his in the same breath" that was linked over on WangxianFicRecs, and it reminded me of one of my favorite things to read, which is LWJ harming WWX — intentionally or unintentionally — and being very, very guilty about it. Do you have suggestions for fics with that element? Thanks!

💙 Wish I could forget the taste of your skin and the feel of your hands pinning me down by KizuKatana (E, 63k, wangxian, WQ & WWX & WN, modern w/ cultivation, getting back together, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, case fic, pining)

🧡 Life as a House by Terri Botta (Isilwath) (T, 55k, WangXian, Modern AU, Post-Divorce, Father-Son Relationship, Reconciliation, Therapy, Angst with a happy ending)

Honesty is the Best Policy (Except if You’re an Asshole) by piecrust (E, 22k, WangXian, Porn with Feelings, College/University)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #wangxianficfinder #mdzs #the untamed #long post #i'm in the mood for a fic #wangxian fic recs #wangxian fic search

[diazsdimples]

WIP Wednesday

I did a bad thing and started (yet another) WIP. I'm gonna put myself into writers jail until I finish the fic's I've started. But until then, enjoy the first snippet of Single Dad AU! I seem to be in my Dad!Buck era.

Tagged by @hippolotamus @cal-daisies-and-briars @callmenewbie @spotsandsocks and @wikiangela go check out their works IMMEDIATELY

Snippet below the cut (sorry it's kinda long but it's cute I swear!)

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!!!”

Buck’s head flicks up and he sees two streaks of blonde before the wind is knocked out of him as his daughters barrel into his legs, latching onto him like a pair of leeches.

Carrie, slightly taller than her little sister, smacks her head into his hip as she comes to a quick stop. Buck laughs as he staggers backwards, arms coming out to wrap around the girls.

“Hello my loves!” he grins, crouching down and pulling them into a suffocating hug. “How was your day?”

“It was good!” Carrie says, dropping her backpack at Buck’s feet and hopping into the backseat, clipping herself into her booster seat. Lily circles her arms around Buck’s neck, and he lifts her up, carrying her to the other side of the car and buckling her into her car seat.

“What about you, sweetheart?” he asks Lily as he checks her straps. “First day of school, did you have fun?”

Lily nods. “Uh huh, my teacher is really nice, and she let us colour in all day!”

Buck chuckles, kissing Lily on the head before shutting the door and hopping into the front seat.

“So, anything exciting happen for you, Carrie?”

Carrie nods enthusiastically, her blonde curls flouncing around her head as she does so.  “We've got a new boy in class. He’s really nice.”

Buck’s eyes flicker to the rear-view mirror as he drives, watching Carrie as she talks. “What’s his name?” he asks.

“Christopher,” Carrie replies. “He’s from El Paso and him and his daddy moved here a few months ago.”

“Where’s El Paso?” Lily pipes up. She looks so cute, her hair pulled back in Buck’s best attempt at a French braid (she’d insisted on one, stating that she needed to look good for her first day at school), and her little shirt with butterfly wings poking out of the back, a little squished from the carseat.

“In Texas, baby,” Buck replies.

“Oh, and I got into trouble today,” Carrie adds, looking down at her feet.

Buck arches an eyebrow. Carrie’s a bit of a firecracker and it’s not unknown for her to come home with a letter for Buck to read. It’s usually about encouraging her to think before she speaks. Buck’s not sure he’s the right person to be teaching her that, he’s just as bad sometimes. “What happened?” he asks, bracing himself for the response.

“Some of the boys in class were making fun of Christopher because he walks funny,” Carrie replies.

“And that got you in trouble how?”

Carrie shrugs. “I told them they were being assholes” she says, as though it’s the simplest thing in the world.

Jesus Christ. It’s all Buck can do to not burst out laughing. He is a very, very responsible parent.

“Carrie, I love that you stood up for Christopher, and that was a very nice thing for you to do, but we can’t use language like that” he replies, doing his level best not to let his obvious delight shine through too much.

“But you say it to Uncle Chimney all the time!” she protests.

Well, she’s got him there.

Buck takes a deep breath, fighting down his laugher. “I know, sweetheart, but adults are allowed to say these kinds of things. They’re not words for kids.”

Carrie pouts and crosses her arms and Buck just about melts when Lily copies the gesture, ever her big sister’s number one fan. “Being a kid is boring” she huffs.

“Yeah, Daddy! Boring!” Lily adds, looking at Carrie for approval.

Buck snorts. “Quiet from the cheap seats!” Fuck, he’s so lucky he’s got these two girls.

(No pressure) tagging @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @malewifediaz @watchyourbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @spagheddiediaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @daffi-990 @fruitandbubbles @fionaswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @wildlife4life @monsterrae1 @rainbow-nerdss

#buddie #single dad au #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #911 buddie #911verse #evan buck buckely #911 fanfic #eddie x buck #911 #buddie fic #buddie ao3 #buddie as dads #dad!buck #starts between season 1 and season 2

[saikolikes]

Aki’s P5R  fanfic recs! (part 2)

Hi and welcome to another one of my recs posts! As you can see, this is part two: part one of this post can be found HERE and includes fics I bookmarked between April 2019 and December 2020. This second post will deal with everything I bookmarked during 2021 and 2022 (... so yes, part 3 is bound to happen some times in the future)

Here a brief disclaimer:

Everything in here is spoiler for either P5 vanilla, Royal, or Strikers;

I won’t report the tags, as it would take too long, so if you’re interested in a fic, please open the link;

Fic recs obviously reflect my tastes and preferences. For example, I love suffering and I don’t like fluff or domestic works, so browse this list knowing that;

The stark majority of the works here is shuakeshu

If you want more recs you can find them in my bookmarks, most of them are public!

MY ONGOING RECS Again, I don't read a lot of ongoing works (although, admittedly more than in the past) and these are the ones I'm subscribed to that I'm adoring!

The Lovers, Reversed by salexectria, Terra5 (E) | Royalty a/b/o AU | akeshu | series in three parts, ongoing "A Thief is caught stealing from the Northern King, and is sentenced to death for his crimes. The Alpha Prince intervenes, but at what cost to them both?" What I love about this AU is the amount of politics and worldbuilding put into it, as well as the uniqueness of double povs who constantly switch from Akira to Goro creating one back and forth that acts literally like poking into their minds. Plus the slow burn and the pining are just on point.

never die when I'm dead by threerings (E) | Royal & post-Royal | akeshu | series in 2 parts, ongoing Two one shots featuring one of my absolute flavors of this ship: sad, intense and unhinged

IDC FOR UPDATES I resolved to defeat my abandoned-wip trauma one excellent fic at a time so here's a list of works that haven't been updated in a while or the author straight up confirmed they won't keep writing them, but they are so good you just have to read them and let them remodel you. Do it. Do it now.

the year of the knife by theexistentiallyqueer (M) | No powers AU | shuakeshu | 2 chapters "The plan for Akira's junior year of high school was to keep his head down and his nose clean, but he hadn't counted on his new high school having more trouble than it was worth--and he specifically didn't plan on Akechi Goro, the haughty, machiavellian vice president of Shujin Academy's student council, dragging him face-first into political scandal and a series of encounters that would change his life." Please let teq bring you through a journey of spot-on characterization and stunning prose that will rewire your brain chemistry completely. Their take on machiavellian Akechi is really good, and the snark Akira spits in this fic is really something I cherish.

kiss & cry by MajorGodComplex (T) | Figure skating AU | shuakeshu | 2 chapters "Goro’s first thought when he hits the ground is some combination of the words ‘shit fuck hell fucking bullshit bitch fuck motherfucking hell.’ His next thought is wondering whether Akira Kurusu, senior debut, constant thorn in Goro’s side, and the only person anyone this season seems to talk about, is also trying to land a quad axel at the moment." I don't know what to tell you, the prose of this one is so witty and funny you just have to read what's published of it as of now!

honeybrains by succubused (T) | Time loop | shuakeshu | 4 chapters "a chronicle of the twenty-fourth time akira kurusu lived through the month of january 2017" What can I say, I am really a sucker for time loops and this fic took me by the heart. Tagged as character study and with rights because the characterization here is very interesting!

in the snow globe by aminami (E) | Time travel | shuake | 1 chapter "It’s your heart,” Joker says like it’s the most obvious thing. “Your desires, your hopes, your fears. I’ll carry them with me always. My little snow globe." This fic will hurt you so badly but it will be so worth it, I swear. It's just so melancholic and tender and angsty and it carved a place in my heart.

my love has never lived indoors by rhodophytae (E) | a/b/o | shuake | 1 chapter "Ren Amamiya knows he's an alpha, and he's comfortable with that, but he's pretty sure that being an alpha is, well...different for him than it is for other people. He resigned himself a long time ago to the fact that he'd probably go his whole life without finding anyone else like him. And then he meets Goro Akechi." This fic has such an interesting take on omegaverse! Paired with a stellar characterization and delicious pining, it's no surprise it's a fic I will never forget.

GENERAL RECS The fics I’ve enjoyed the most and that I go back to reading sometimes.

how joker and crow survived the coronavirus pandemic of 2020 by shntlvs (T) | Royal | shuakeshu | series of 2 works "Escaping from Maruki's false reality gets interrupted by the Coronavirus pandemic." Could you have ever imagined reading a fic centered around the pandemic? Me neither, but this one and its sequel work so well and have very compelling bits of characterization for the boys. Unexpected premise, but I utterly loved it.

straw house, straw dog by caelam (T) | 3rd sem | gen | one shot "In the saccharine utopia of Maruki’s reality, Goro Akechi’s mother is still alive." I admittedly don't read too many fics with mamakechi so I won't claim to be an expert, but this one really left me impressed with how clear and tangible the tangle of feelings is.

Knight of Pentacles, King of Spades by Naometry (M) | Medieval AU | shuakeshu | 11 chapters "“Hifumi passed on your greetings,” Akira Kurusu says, fury simmering beneath his conversational tone. “And I’m polite enough to give you my own in person. So greetings, General Goro Akechi. I am the man who will kill you.”" I started reading this fic for the war captive trope but this story has so much more to it than just that. Nao's superb skill with writing violence and viciousness will have you thrust into a cruel world where two boys seem to be bound to kill each other... unless?

Ripples by Riona (T) | gen | canon compliant | one shot "Ten people know exactly who the news is talking about, and now they’re going to have to deal with that." A peek into the heads of 10 of Joker's confidants upon learning about his death. The fic I would never imagined myself reading, but I did because it was recced to me, and now I'm recc'ing it to you, too.

When Your Eyes Meet Mine by seths_dream (E) | no powers AU | shuake | one shot "The way the bellboy lingered on him made his heart jolt, made him think that maybe, maybe the bellboy was looking at Goro the same way Goro was looking at him." I've lost count of how many times I read this fic because the horny is just so juicy, it's unironically one of the fics I come back to when I need to remind myself how to write horny stuff. (the same author also wrote this delicious pegoryu that you have to read)

a study in what not to say by succubused (T) | 3rd sem | shuake | one shot "Akira has finally had enough of Akechi's bullshit; they resolve it the only ways they know how." If you like the boys being really nasty to each other, this fic is a must. It has excellent dialogue, dynamics, and a tad of homoerotic wound tending which can't hurt no one!

MY ALL-TIME FAVOURITES The fics that rewired my brain chemistry, took my heart out, slapped it, put it back, and left me a whole new person.

27 steps to seduce a crow by relationshipcrimes (G) | Royal | shuakeshu | one shot "A handy bullet-pointed list on how to flirt with, seduce, and keep your local Akechi Goro." Still to this day, I think of this fic in terms of Goro's characterization. If I have a thing for post-canon shuake chasing each other, it's probably due to this one.

The Brigverse by TzviaAriella (E but most works are M) | Pirates AU | akeshuake | series, ongoing I admittedly don't care that much about pirates but the og fic from this series (A Brig Too Far) was being passed on so much that I gave it a try and. Oh boy. Not only is the characterization impeccable, the story compelling, and the action thrilling, but at least one scene and/or line from each work in this series has altered my brain permanently. I am a new person after reading Brigverse.

wild and free by bangandawhimper (E) | a/b/o | shuakeshu | one shot "Akira Kurusu hasn’t always been an omega. But now everyone he meets in this city assumes he’s an omega. He’s treated like an omega. He feels like an omega. He knows he feels like an omega because he remembers what it was to be an alpha." This work might have my favourite take ever on shuakeshu omegaverse, it's so fitting for them, so thought out, and the characterization is so on point... my god. Read this fic now.

The Diamond Chest by kinneas (E) | post-Royal | shuakeshu | 3 chapters, complete "Who says you have to see Morgana speak in the Metaverse before you can hear him in the real world? Not the few hundred officers who arrested Ren in Sae’s Palace two years ago, that’s for sure." Honestly everything kinnes writes is gold but I'm shouting this fic out because I reread more than a few scenes from this fic more than once, and it's a 100k-words baby. I am a sucker for heist stories, I am a sucker for dealing with trauma in very tangible ways, and I'm a sucker for kinneas' characterization of the boys.

before midnight by specterthief (Not rated) | 3rd sem, canon compliant | gen | one shot "“I—” Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Sumire sets down her chopsticks and rubs her face with both hands. “Um—who told you I was going to training camp?” (On January 9th, Sumire goes home.)" This is the stellar Sumire characterization fic you're looking for. Read this. Read this right now.

I HOPE THIS DOESN'T AWAKEN SOMETHING IN ME (DELUSIONAL) I clicked on these fics solely due to my trust in the authors/the summary/one rec and now I find myself with a new kink. Thanks.

Containment Breach by salexectria (E) | Space pirates AU | akeshu | one shot Akira gets stranded on an abandoned spaceship seemingly infested by a terrifying creature. He finds the lonely survivor of the crew and they begrudgingly start to work together to contact help and survive. I am just going to say that I clicked for salex's name, I stayed for the stellar characterization, pining and top-tier bantering, and got overwhelmed by the tentacle sex. (/pos)

it takes two by lumensd (E) | 3rd sem | akeshu | two-shots By all means, this series has some things I usually am not interested in (phone sex, degradation) but Jay is so skilled and his akeshus are so fucked in the head that now I've signed up for the masochist Joker agenda. Hurray!

i dream of you draped in wires by rime (E) | 3rd sem | akeshu | one shot "Maruki's Shadows don't want to fight; they just want to collect data. Wait, are those cat ears?" You would think a work with the tag "catboy shibari gunplay fuckordie" can't be too serious. Wrong! Excellent character study attack 🔪🔪🔪 (from the same author there's also this P5 vanilla fic that is excellent)

Darken my doorway by EnlacingLines (E) | 3rd sem-post canon | akeshu | one shot ""I don’t need to test my theory. You should be thanking me, really. Opening this door for you.” “A door to what?” Akira says, exasperated by just how self congratulatory Goro still sounds.“ Submission.” Or: I am a firm switch shuake shipper, I don't vibe with too-extreme dynamics *proceeds to go ballistics over this fic regardless*, *awakens to the wonder of d/s a lil fucked up dynamics*

#persona 5 #persona 5 royal #p5 #p5r #p5 spoilers #p5r spoilers #shuake #akeshu #shuakeshu #akeshuake #fanfiction recommendation #fanfic #p5r fanfiction #p5 fic rec #fic rec #fic reccomendations #p5r fic rec

[elise-51-blog]

Gary Neville is a REF

So inspired by this. Working on a WIP, another which may it see the light of day someday. An AU where Gary gets kicked out the the United youth academy and becomes a referee instead. Carra has his Liverpool career.

[[Absolutely inspired by this marvelous fic here as well, where both of them became refs instead of footballers, please give it love: PLAY THE WHISTLE by saltstreets ]] credit: @zevons

Snippet of my WIP here.....

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

“It’s a fuckin’ shambles, Gaz.”

Gary should’ve known better than to answer his phone. It’s a beautiful day for football. Which has fuck all to do with Gary. Gary’s on holiday. At home maybe, but it still counts. He’d even had a lie-in ‘til nearly half seven.

He doesn’t, won’t, can’t hold back a weary sigh, soul-deep. He’s got a headache already. Worse, he already knows he won’t say no in the end.

Still.

“I can’t fuckin’ do it, Stuart. I’m on holiday.”

“What, in fuckin’ Bury?”

“How d’you know I’m still in Bury? Maybe I’m in Ibiza!”

“Fuck you are, you boring cunt. You’ve probably been in the back garden, tellin’ the daisies which way to grow.”

“Fuck off.” They both laugh, it’s fucking true innit.

“Fuck me.” He can’t do it. He will do it.

“Already got me lad on the way, son. He’ll scoop you up, you’ll be on the pitch in thirty. Lovely day for it.”

“They’ll not go for it, Stu.” For fucking obvious reasons. “Raffa won’t, anyways.”

“Already had it out with ‘em, you mong, ‘course I have. Sir Alex and Raffa are well up for it. Talked you up, didn’t I? No one I’d trust to do the job right. Sterling lad, absolutely professional he is, our Gary Neville, no one else for it.”

“No one else stupid enough to take it on, you mean.”

“Right you are, son!”

Stuart laughs some more at Gary’s pain. It’s a thing they do. “It don’t hurt you’re a short taxi ride away, either.”

“This is mad, this is.” Gary shakes his head. “If the scousers even let me off the pitch in one piece, I’m gonna get absolutely killed by the fans, no matter the result. Both sides, probably.”

“Yeah. But you’ll be golden in my books, Nev, don’t you worry about that.”

Gary feels a bit sick. “This is me fucked, you understand that, right?”

“Listen,” Stuart actually sounds worryingly sincere. “I wouldn’t ask it if we didn’t need you, Gaz. Really. I know it’s unorthodox, but I’ve made everything absolutely crystal with the managers. The press is being made aware. It’s the wrong time of year for a re-play, innit. Everyone wants to play today. I’ll protect you, lad, I swear it. It’ll be alright.”

He can see it now: Ex-Academy Player Officiates Derby Match, Ripped to Pieces By Former Teammates and Blood-Thirsty Scousers Alike!!

Gary tries to grasp at anything to make the situation better in his mind. “It’ll be Keane and Gerrard to captain, I assume?”

There’s a suspicious pause. Stuart sounds mildly apologetic. 

“Err, well. Gerrard’s out today, actually, knee’s acting up again. It’ll be Carragher in his place.”

Oh, well, fuck Gary Neville then. Just fuck him all day long.

“Oh, well, that’s more good news then, Stuart. The only moderately sane man in Liverpool is out on injury, in his stead an Actual Fucking Lunatic.” He is absolutely insane is Carragher. “Between him and Keane, it’s gonna be sunshine and fucking daisies. I can’t wait to be spoken to with nothing but dignity and respect for ninety minutes.”

Suddenly, Gary hears the desperate honks of a car horn idling impatiently just outside the kitchen window. Stuart must hear it over the phone, he sounds absolutely elated to ring off.

“That’ll be our Dave, then. Off you go, Gaz, that’s a good lad! Don’t forget your whistle, you’re gonna need it today, sure!”

Christ.

It’s gonna be a fuckin’ shambles.

#fic wip #carraville #Gary Neville is a Ref #i am writing this just so i can have that title #if anyone knows a good reference to the history of pgmol please send it my way #i made up stuart but i do like him #Youtube

[thelordofgifs]

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you @sallysavestheday and @grey-gazania! I was eyeing this one and hoping for a tag, some great questions here.

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 51, although one's a podfic.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 250,683. More than half of which is from last year alone!

3. What fandoms do you write for? Currently exclusively the Silmarillion, with the occasional little LoTR ficlet.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? the fairest stars, Inflection, an ancient song, all those that follow, Ilimbë. I'm always surprised by an ancient song's popularity – it was a pretty low-effort ficlet – but a solid list nonetheless!

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes, always! (Glances nervously at the pile I've accumulated in the last couple of weeks of travelling). I love replying to comments, though. It's so nice to be able to engage with all my lovely thoughtful readers and their excellent thoughts!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? ever an anguish that pursued is pretty bleak. before the black gale is also a tragedy of sorts, though I'm not sure that makes it qualify as angsty as such.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Ilimbë ends quite joyfully, although while writing the final scene I did have the shadow of their unhappy future in mind! I think the cleaving's ending is also quite happy, or at the very least cathartic.

8. Do you get hate on fics? No, thankfully! All my readers have been very kind and appreciative <3

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Three fics so far! All of which were gifts for friends, and made me push my boundaries a little. I'm proud of all of them, though! Smut is less scary than I used to think :)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? No, never! If I did, it would probably be more of a retelling/AU than straight-up having characters from different fandoms meet.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not to my knowledge!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No – I fear I am rather too much of a control freak for this, and would rather not inflict myself and my pedantry on an unsuspecting co-writer.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Russingon... it's the forbidden romance and the doomed nature of it all and the fact that love wasn't enough to save them :( also the murders, of course.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? boats against the current, the "Maedhros doesn't swear the Oath" AU I blithely started back in 2022, is simply not going anywhere at any sort of speed. Perhaps this is the year! Let's see.

16. What are your writing strengths? Dialogue and characterisation! I'm good at emotional beats, I think.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Description... I tend to write VERY minimally and then have to go back on edits and add in some descriptive language so that the entire story isn't just two talking heads in an empty room. Always very pleased when people compliment my descriptions for that reason – they take conscious effort!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Fine if it's footnoted, I think. I tend to avoid it on the basis that all the dialogue I write has been "translated" from one of Tolkien's languages anyway; and I don't know any real languages well enough to write fic in them.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Harry Potter, although I've soured on the fandom now for obvious reasons :/ For a while I used to think that I could still enjoy the books I loved so much growing up while separating them from the author, but she's so continually hateful and bigoted that I just... can't gain any enjoyment from the franchise anymore. Which is painful, but I'm glad I have the silm fandom to absorb all my creative energy now!

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? the fairest stars! My weird gremlin baby, I love it so. I never expected to care about this fic as much as I did, but I've poured so much thought and heart into it that it was perhaps inevitable. And it's taught me so much about writing cliffhangers :)

No-pressure tags for @eilinelsghost, @searchingforserendipity25, @welcomingdisaster, @that-angry-noldo, @swanmaids, @echo-bleu, @jouissants, @tanoraqui and anyone else who, like me, was eyeing this one hoping to be tagged – @ me and say I tagged you!

#tag game #my writing

[shrekgogurt]

An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on you WIP(s)

Thanks for the tags @theearlgreymage and @wellbelesbian !!!!

🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s)

For the sake of this endeavor I’m gonna focus on I Knew A Boy, I Knew A Man which is also more affectionately referred to as IKABIKAM, eyecab eyecam, 👁️🚕👁️📸, etc.

🍄Describe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”  

Natasha as like a vaguely Margaret Thatcher figure but she was in office in the late 90s not the 80s don’t think about it too hard okay the exact policy/praxis doesn’t matter so much as the ideology/vibes/dynamic + Davy (The Mage) as like a fucked up Welsh caricature (of his own design) because he’s overcompensating and has the media literacy of the worst film bro you’ve ever had the misfortune of talking to = their sons falling in love through football/soccer against all odds as juxtaposed between childhood and adulthood.

🌍What tags or warnings will your / one of your wip(s) need if you intend to share it?

Trauma

🧭An alternative title to your/ one of your WIP(s)?

Solsbury Hill for obvious reasons

⚠️Which wip you’re most likely to finish or update next?

This one :-)

💾What is your document of your wip/ a wip called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

Okay, I’m usually absolute ass at naming files in any helpful fashion but this project is so organized on Google Docs. My notes app is a different story. Those don’t even have titles. I just launch into my whims as they come.

Most interesting answer I can give is that the folder containing all my fic documents is titled “kill the part that cringes.”

🖍Post Any sentence from your wip

Listen, I warned y’all.

To be in love with Simon Snow—a life sentence, an encyclopedia of grief.

♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP

In the original musings of IKABIKAM—titled Scarborough Fair as the club was gonna be in Scarborough—Simon was Irish rather than Welsh and raised by Ruth. I know. Wild to think about now. But it’s true. And then I did some excavating on canon and the story we have today was born. Lost to time (the original idea of this fic which was actually two fics) is a whole very fun scene. I had planned that after the international break match against other, Simon convinced Baz to go out on the town with him. I wrote this snippet back then. It didn’t make the cut for obvious reasons and honestly I don’t know how much I stand by the characterization. Or the prose. Everything about IKABIKAM is better to me but this sexy little number deserves the people’s attention. I’m slightly concerned it’s offensive.

They’re playing INDUSTRY BABY in this club right now? I’m not dancing with Simon Snow to a Lil Nas X song. That music video…I’m only a man. I’m also not exactly sober. I will not risk a Snow relapse. Besides, Snow himself just downed the rest of his drink.

He leans toward me to say something. With the combination of his drunkenness and his accent I can barely make out his words, “eye gahta gohbakta da barrr.” (Translation: I’ve got to go back to the bar.) He really doesn’t.

I pluck the glass from his hand, “this last one is on me.”

He goofily smiles. His head is drooping to the side and his eyes are half-lidded. It would be adorable if I wasn’t worried about him falling over. I scan the room. One of the other Irish players is nearby. I hook Snow’s arm in mine (both my hands are full!) and drag him towards his teammate. He stumbles behind me looking completely blissed out.

I tap the other player on his shoulder. Clancy I think? The left winger. “Hey, I’m going to force Snow home so he can avoid a stomach pump. Could you make sure he doesn’t wander off while I close out my tab?”

He nods. I throw Snow at him and maneuver through the crowd up to the bar. It’s packed. I finish my own drink before I can push an opening to order. The bartender nods at me. She looks worn out from the night. I don’t blame her.

“Soda water with lime please.”

“Sure. What’s the name on the tab?”

“Grimm-Pitch. Could you close it?”

She nods and turns on her heel. A minute or so later she returns with the drink and my card. I take them.

“Is there any chance I could close out my mate’s tab too. He’s pissed.” I gesture back at the direction of Snow and Clancy. A circle of women have surrounded them. Honestly, fair.

The bartender gives me a wary eye. “What’s the name?”

“Snow.”

“Snow? Like the footballer Simon Snow over there?” She points at Simon.

I nod. The bartender scoffs, “Sure I’ll give Simon Snow’s card to some random Englishman.”

Random Englishman? Am I really going to have to do you know who I am this woman? I go for a subtle approach and just sort of lift an eyebrow and draw attention to the name on my own card: Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. The realization hits her. I was afraid I would have to tie my hair up.

“Oh shit. Fuck you’re Baz Pitch.” She stares at me. I hold out my hand. “Right, the card!” She hands me Snow’s card.

I nod, “Alright. Thanks.”

She shakes her head at me, “No, sorry for the hassle. Have a good night English…defensive midfielder…Baz Pitch.” She says my name with a laugh like she’s awestruck I’m in this Dublin nightclub (fair), “and thanks for the win today!”

I’m beyond tired of hearing that line.

When I return Snow is having the time of his life: posted up surrounded by ladies singing along to Ayyy Ladies. They’re not being subtle in their flirting. (Again, fair. Good for them.) Snow is incredibly respectful despite being off his face. Good lad. He’s still far too drunk to consent to anything so I don’t feel terribly guilty for pulling him away from the grind fest.

When he sees me approach he lights up, “Baz!” His arms fly open. “Took you long enough.”

I hand him his drink. There is a blonde woman dancing on him. She throws her arms around his neck. He knocks back the drink and chugs it in one go. A little water dribbles down his chin and he wipes it away with his thumb. It catches on his bottom lip. He hasn’t looked away from me once. And this fucking song…

“When I hit it from the back, don't fuss, don't fight

When I put it in ya mouth, don't scratch, don't bite”

I need to get the fuck out of here.

He hands me back the glass, “That drink was awful. What was it?” His speech is a little less slurred than before.

“Water. I’m taking you home.”

He blushes, “What?”

“You’re plastered. So, you should get sick in your own loo rather than on this lovely woman,” I give the blonde a wink. She dances away.

I’m pretty sure tabs aren’t even really that much of a thing in Ireland. And like…I don’t think you can close them out for someone else. So like. I don’t know what the fuck I was on while writing that. Obviously not Google.com, or reality. But most of all I was absolutely jump-scared reading that back and discovering I was gonna make Baz a defensive midfielder? WTF!?

🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

A hockey one-shot. Whenever it happens the chirps are gonna be out of this world.

🤡How many Wips are you actively working on?

One in a way that’s meaningful. Maybe two. It’s a fresh thing.

🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

The chapter is really expositional in an isolated way and so I have to backtrack for context without being boring.

❤️Not a question, just a second kudos to send.

Blessed beyond belief.

Now tagging @artsyunderstudy @brilla-brilla-estrellita @cutestkilla @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @j-nipper-95 @noblecorgi @prettygoododds @thewholelemon @valeffelees @roomwithanopenfire @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe omg and @emeryhall tell me everything

#ikabikam #bonus content

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 27

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: stuff is going on at work (I'm not in trouble) but it's kinda dramatic rn so...

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Dr. Kemp walks in with a cup of tea and puts it in front of you. He insisted on making it for you and you were too hazy to deny him. You're still reeling from your session with Andy and now you're struggling to reset before your one-on-one. 

He smiles and backs away, slipping your journal from the table where you left it and bringing it to you. You take it as he claims the vacated armchair across from you.

"So," he leans an arm on the chair casually, "I know it's been a long morning. We'll try not to overwhelm ourselves, yes?"

You nod and look down at the journal. You're already there. You feel like folding over and shutting down.

"How are you feeling? Is it a lot?"

You swallow and mouth a 'yes', too weak to get much out. You can feel him watching you. You can't even look back at him.

"Right, I guess... there are some things we need to delve into. For your own good."

"Okay," you croak, resting your journal in your lap.

"Have some tea, get settled," he suggests.

You reach forward, keeping a hand on the notebook as you take the mug. You blow over the steam and inhale the scent. It smells different.

"I brought it with me, I hope you like apple cinnamon," he says.

Finally, your eyes flick up and meet his. He watches you expectantly so you take a dainty sip. You hum, it's tasty.

"Thank you," you say and put the cup back on the table.

"Not at all," he runs his fingers along the armrest, "I have a very sensitive question for you."

Your brows draw together. You stare at his neck. He takes a breath, chest rising and falling.

"How much experience do you have in intimate relationships?" He asks.

The room goes stolid as you blink. He waits as you clutch the book tight, nearly bending the hard cover. Your lip twitches and your lashes flutter.

"I..."

"I know it can be hard, but we need to talk about these things. It's obvious you have some shame associated with that part of your life and self. That's not healthy but we can't treat you if you don't talk about it," he explains, "so, you don't need to tell me everything. That's something else you can put in your journal, okay?"

"Okay," you agree, "I can do that."

"But I still want an answer. There are some things I do need to know," he prompts.

You hang your head. You bite your lip deep as you weigh how to say it. Really, it's simple.

"None," you murmur, staring at your toes, "no one wants me."

He hums thoughtfully, "maybe not before, but you must see now that that's changed. I think it's obvious how Andy feels... isn't it?"

You nod again, a lump in your throat.

"But let's not focus on him, let's talk about you. Just you. Is there anything that you've done... alone?" He leans forward, just a little.

You blanch, breathless as the room tilts. You know what he means. You can't believe it. He's only trying to help, right? He is a doctor after all.

You grab the mug, comforting yourself with the hot porcelain. You part your lips and close your eyes. Just be honest, he's not there to judge you. He might even be able to help you.

"Yes," you utter tightly, "not... much. I... I was scared... so... just a little... touch."

You hear him inhale, "right, good. Thank you for your honesty."

Your eyes snap open, "your welcome."

"Let's go over your homework," he stands and you shrink down just slightly.

You watch him as he slowly crosses the room. He has very nice eyes, you think, and his hair looks soft. There's something about him that is welcoming in that moment.

"Just a second, okay, sweetheart?" He holds up a finger.

You force a half-smile and wait as he leaves the room. He comes back with a small plastic bag. It's black and unmarked. You've never seen a bag like that. 

"May I sit?" He approaches the couch. You wave to the cushion quietly, "so, this is what you're going to work on. If you're going to get more comfortable in your relationship, you have to get more comfortable with yourself." He puts the bag on top of your journal, "you can use that to... explore yourself."

You look down and stare. He laughs again, softly. "Go on and look, it's yours."

You hesitantly touch the seam of the bag. You trace your fingers to the top and lift up the edge. Your eyes widen as you see the small silver shape in plastic packaging. You think you know exactly what it is.

"I can't..." you begin.

"You don't have to use it but you do need to... experiment with yourself. It's healthy." He says, "but if you need it... you have it now."

You move the bag under your journal as if to hide it. You give a noncommittal nod.

"And you can write down how you feel after," he offers, "oh, and... I can give you my email? If you have questions outside our typical sessions. How about that?"

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a burgundy pen, "can I put it in your journal?"

You bite down and reluctantly put down your mug. You open your notebook to a blank page and hand it to him. He puts down his email and shuts the book, putting it back in your lap.

"You did a really good job," he gently brushes his knuckles down your sleeve, "what happened to that purple sweater? I haven't seen you in it."

You shrug, "Andy liked this better..."

"Well, you shouldn't wear what Andy likes, you should wear what makes you feel nice," he gives a tug on the sleeve and draws away, standing with a groan, "well, I think you've had enough of me. Go enjoy your tea, doctor's order."

You look up at him. You slide forward and take your mug, standing with trepidation as you watch him. He smells like a forest. You like it.

"See you next week, right?"

"Sure, next week," you agree before turning away. You're just happy to get some time alone. You feel like you haven't had much of that lately.

🕊️

"Dove," Andy's timbre undercuts the chirpy tones of your music. You look at the door and lower the pen from your tablet, tapping pause as your dread returns, "Steve's heading out. Why don't you come say goodbye?"

You put your tablet aside and push yourself heavily across the bed. You stand and drag your feet, the handle rattle before you can reach it. Andy opens the door from the other side. 

"Sorry, I was drawing," you murmur. 

"That's fine," he says, "he asked me to come get you."

"Alright," you shrug.

Andy's eyes fall to your new outfit; the one you'd chosen yourself that morning. You see the small twitch at the corner of his lips. You move past him as if to outrun his ire.

You go downstairs and find Dr. Kemp by the door, buttoning up his black wool jacket. He has a scarf around his neck and you recall the redness in his cheeks upon his arrival. You peer out the narrow pane beside the door. 

"Is it very cold out?" You ask.

"Probably even colder now," he smiles with good humour, "I never mind it. Favourite time of year."

"Oh," you bounce on your feet, "Amber always says it's hot chocolate season."

He chuckles, "that's a good way of looking at it. Hot chocolate; I'll have to remember that next time I come."

"Oh, uh, no, you don't have to–"

"I didn't say I have to, but I want to," he assures, "you a marshmallow girl? Or you like whipped cream?"

You can't help a smile of your own, "either."

"Alright, I'll bring both," he promises, "I'm sure Andrew will stick with his dark roast."

Andy growls but doesn't argue.

"Well I see I've overstayed my welcome," Kemp says, "I'll leave you two alone. Oh, Andy," he continues as he checks his watch, "what did you need me to bring for Thanksgiving? You said no to the peach cobbler so I have to learn how to make something else."

"Bring whatever," Andy replies dismissively.

"Oh, now he changes his tune," he scoffs, "what's your favourite?" Kemp looks at you. "For thanksgiving?"

You think and suddenly feel very sad. You remember the little dinners you would have with Amber, just the two of you. She always made you your favourite dish even if it wasn't very traditional.

"Banana pudding," you eke out grimly, "but… it's not very seasonal, I guess."

"But delicious," he says, "you okay?"

"Yeah, I… I'm fine," you fold your hands in front of you, trying not to let your homesickness seep through. "I… I'll see you next time."

"Sure thing," he winks, "Andrew," he nods and shakes the other man's hand, "you take care of her. She's had a long day."

You stand, spaced out, his silhouette blurring as you hear the door open and close. You just want to lay down and not think. You don't even have the energy left to draw.

"Dove," Andy touches your sleeve, "what's going on?"

"Nothing, tired," you lie. 

"Alright," he accepts dully, "maybe you should relax like he said. How about I run you a bath?"

You don't answer. You pass him and head up the stairs. You can't tell him the truth, you know it'll make him mad. You don't want banana pudding, you want Amber's banana pudding.

"Hey, talk to me," he follows you, "a nice bubble bath sounds nice, doesn't it? It'll help take the tension out."

"Fine," you mutter as you get to the top of the stairs and turn down the hall.

"Is that it? No thanks?" He says tersely.

"I'm sorry," you face him just as you get to your door, "thank you, Andy, I really appreciate it."

"Do you? I thought we were making progress."

"We…are," you frown.

"Uh huh, is that why you brought her up?" He challenges. You shake your head. "Amber… you mentioned her and now you're all upset about it."

You push your lip out, "I miss her."

"You're better off here, where you can get better."

"I know but… she's still my sister."

"Right, and how much do you think she cares? She's got a whole house to herself now. And you've got one too," he gestures to the walls, "you have to stop thinking of that place as home, this is your home," he insists, "so go grab some PJs and I'll get the tub going."

You dip your head. You’re just sad, you wish he would realise it’s not his fault. That you’re lost and you always have been. You don’t know who you are or where you belong.

“Thanks,” you whisper and turn to open the bedroom door.

“Grab some of your new pajamas,” he says.

You go inside and open the dresser. You didn’t fail to notice that it found its way back flush to the wall. That must’ve been when Andy took your journal. That thought bites at your sadness, instead sparking your anger. You still can’t understand why he would do that.

You stop as you open the drawer and stare inside. You sift through the neatly folded clothes. A frilly pink nightie, another pair of pajamas with shorts printed with tiny purple hearts, items you would never pick for yourself. You remember what Dr. Kemp said.

You push aside the new sets and pick out the pair of plaid jammie pants and the grey sweatshirt with Snoopy on it. That’s your favourite pair of pajamas. Amber had the shirt with Woodstock. You hug the fabric and use your hip to close the drawer.

You grab the same novel you’ve been trying to finish since you got here and go back into the hallway. You near the bathroom door and peek inside as Andy bends over the tub. You clear your throat and set your things on the counter.

He stands and shakes the water of his hand. You can smell lavender. He faces you and dries his hand on a towel. His eyes drift from you to the clothes on the counter.

“Oh, those are… cute.”

“I like em,” you wring your hands.

“Yeah, but… they’re old. You have all your new stuff.”

“There’s no holes,” you argue, “and it’s getting colder.”

“Sure, sure,” he crosses his arms, his sleeves snug to his biceps.

You keep your eyes to the floor and move to stand against the counter. You glance over at the door, waiting for him to leave. He hesitates, stopping just in front of you.

“Dove, is everything okay?” He asks.

You tilt your head and examine the tiles. Your pulse is erratic. You shouldn’t say it. It’s not a big deal. But Dr. Kemp says you should speak up.

“No,” you clasp your hands tight, “I’m… I’m… annoyed that you took my journal.”

“Oh,” he lets the single syllable hang, “is that it? I apologised.”

“Yeah, but… but you went into my room and you went through my stuff,” you say, your tone wobbly, “and that’s… that’s wrong.”

“Well, dove, your room? This is my house,” he corrects you, “it’s not like I was snooping. I just forgot to ask you to grab it so I did it myself.” He sighs, “you know, I love you but you make such a big deal out of things.”

“It’s a big deal to me,” you sniff, “and… and you didn’t mention Thanksgiving. I didn’t know– I didn’t know we would do that. I… what if I don’t want to?”

“Don’t want to. Sweetie, why wouldn’t you want to? It’s a holiday. Our first,” he puts his hands on his hips.

You’re quiet. You swallow tightly. You take a breath and release it slowly. Your heart flips and you feel the room shift.

“Can I invite Amber?” You ask so abruptly that you have to slap your hand over your mouth. The thought escapes so fast you can’t stop it.

“Amber?” He repeats bitterly. “Why would you wanna do that?”

“Well, Thanksgiving is for family and… and you said, I want to… I want…” you can’t catch your breath, “to— say… s-s-sorry.”

“Calm down, alright? Don’t be so dramatic. Why? Sorry for what?”

“For hurting her. Like I hurt you, right? That’s what you said.”

He looks away and your eyes flick up briefly. His jaw is set and his eyes are fiery. You shy away as he faces you again.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he backs up and grabs the door, “take your bath. Get your head straight.”

He storms out and slams the door. You whimper and stare at the painted wood. You’re so stupid. One step forward, a hundred backwards. You just can’t let things be good.

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #library au #don't speak #defending jacob #series #fresh #steve kemp

[thewolvesof1998]

Hiii Wolf 💕💕💕

Sending you 5 my friend!

🌈💝🤍🤲💌

Hi Saturn my love!! <3

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

god this was such a hard one because of the 'no one would ever know' because the hardest would be the rodeo stuff in Alright, Cowboy, Go Get 'Em but I think people would know that because I've talked about it but I can't think of anything else so it will have to do.

💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

The crazy reaction I got for my Christmas fic They don’t know (your name is already mine). It got so much love, I didn't think it would get so well received so quickly!

🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?

I answered that here

🤲what do YOU get out of writing?

I love expressing myself creatively, I love telling stories, I suppose it just brings me joy.

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

Chapter Four of They don’t know (your name is already mine) -my Christmas fic (okay I know it's late but this last chapter has been a bitch and the writing spoons have been sparse.) but I'm excited for the Christmas fluff and the Albert/Ravi that is sprinkled in:

The first thing Buck notices as he wakes is the hand in his, tightly gripping it, it’s so warm and makes his palm a little sweaty. He opens his eyes and instantly closes them against the bright light. He opens them again, this time slowly squinting until he adjusts to the light and the room comes into focus; the white walls and blue blanket. It takes him a moment to place where he is, a hospital room, memories of last night sluggish and like a puzzle missing key pieces, he remembers driving and the sound of screeching metal and…and Eddie. Buck’s gaze searches for him, he’s not far, curled up in a chair next to Buck’s bed, neck at an awkward angle that he’s sure to feel for the rest of the day, dark bags under his eyes and his hand tightly gripping Buck’s even in sleep.  Buck watches his husband -he’s still not used to using that word, Husband, he thinks he could use it for fifty years and it will always bring that same joyous feeling when the officant called them husbands- sleep for a few minutes until he gets impatient, he squeezes Eddie’s hands, “Eds wake up.” Eddie snaps awake, “I’m up, what-Buck!” He lends forward, “You’re awake,” Buck attempts to roll his eyes at Eddie stating the obvious but the motion sends a spike of pain through his skull, he winces, “You’re in pain, let me get the nurse,” Eddie says standing up, hand beginning to slide of his but Buck tightens his hold on it. 

Thanks for your asks!!! <3<3<3

#9-1-1 #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #wolf gets mail #wolf answers #buddie fic #thewolvesof1998 writes #fic: they don't know (my name is already yours)

[optiwashere]

WIP Wednesday

Holy shit, it's actually on a Wednesday this time?

I really wanted to do one of these this week since I've gone a bit rabid on a few WIPs.

I'll post a little bit about each of those WIPs later, some snippets and a blurb about why I'm so excited. But first! Folks to tag! Since I'm so excited for these, I'm gonna tag a lot this time.

If you have anything you want to share WIP writing-wise, please do... @quitefair @bottombatch @siyurikspakvariisis @causticcontemplation @jasminethetransvampire @underworldobsessed @assarivanguard @amorficzna @funwithnix @askweisswolf @linka-from-captain-planet @tief4tief

If you don't want to do this, or have nothing you want to share, feel free to ignore. If anyone else wants to do this, please feel free to consider yourself tagged. Now, onto my obsessions.

WIP 1: New chapter of Nightsongs

After spending some chapters in a kind of angst zone after the relatively light (relatively) first 4-5 chapters, this next chapter is going to be a kind of upswing. There's lots left to do with the AU, so I'm expecting to chug along and write more and more as time permits.

This AU is a lot for me to handle, especially after having so many chapters ready to post and then... falling way behind on writing the chapters afterwards. But it's fanfiction, and we're having fun here. So, who cares? The game's fandom heyday is already over, so at this point I'm just writing whatever feels best to me.

This chapter is mostly done, I think. I'm giving it a few days/a week to sit before I go back to edit it with fresher eyes. Also, we return to Ash's POV!

Lae’zel walked into Ash’s back office without a word on the seventh day and Ash nodded her way without looking up. Papers sat in strewn piles all over the desk, a handful of old incident reports and assessments that still needed working for Wulbren’s accountants. The absolute worst part of the job remained for the year – paperwork – and Ash intended to get them caught up in the hours that remained of her day. It was a useful, meaningful task. It gave her something else to think about. Anything other than green eyes. “We should talk,” Lae’zel said, sitting down without being offered one of the folding chairs in front of the desk. “Aren’t we doing that?” Ash scanned the paper in front of her and quickly jotted down her signature. [...] “You begin working on a van,” Lae’zel said matter-of-factly, counting off on her fingers as she spoke. “You talk to a pretty girl. You suddenly work more often on that van. Then, you disappear inside yourself and act bitter all day because suddenly the girl no longer shows up. There is more to it than you say.” “I think this might be the first time you’ve spoken more than five words to me, you know that?” Ash chuckled. “Am I that obvious?”

WIP 2: New chapter of Blades in the Night

The need to write more plot for this has been burrowing in my skull for a long time. I initially stopped myself from writing too much of it because I wanted to do Nightsongs first in its entirety before getting to this, but I think I'm just too impatient for that.

I also love the fact that this fic turned from a simple PWP one-shot into this much more expansive, plotty story that's now pretty important for what I want to do with my babies post-canon. Something about that makes me smile.

Plus, you know how I've been lamenting my inability to write happy endings for certain characters?

Either way, this isn't really complete, but the hardest part is complete and now I just have to start connecting the dots and filling in the blanks. I'd say it's about a third done?

The room filled with the same aura of a distant gaze leveled their way that Shadowheart had felt back in the cloister. Asheera had made an oath to protect Shadowheart then, and the flooding of a dense, real presence had nearly swallowed her whole in the cloister's barracks. A weight of importance sunk down on her shoulders there in Hobb's Hovel as well. A smell like molten metal cooling lilted in the air with a lingering, acrid tang. It tasted of blood in Shadowheart's mouth, as if the forging was tainted with some other foul presence in the mixture. [...] Little could have compared better to that feeling of a weight lifted from her shoulders. Worry disappeared and gave way to earnest joy in Shadowheart, and she thrived on it. She hadn't felt such keen happiness since she'd been so readily accepted into Asheera's family by her parents.

WIP 3: Gauntlet of Shar fic

Wow, I know! I've been talking about writing this fic for so long that it's almost become a sort of mythical never-to-be-slain beast for me. I'm not normally someone that talks about my ideas too often, I just write them before they can flee me.

I tend to also get in my own head about what I "should" be writing in the first place. Frankly, I'm getting kinda tired of writing so many ships, though fear not - I'll still have ideas that can only work with ships that aren't Shadowheart/Asheera. It's just that, for a while, I want to focus back on my loves.

This fic is one of those that I've wanted to finish for months. I know that at this point in the fandom's life cycle, I'm pretty much writing just for the dedicated, lovely folks that still read my stuff and I'm extremely happy to have y'all around! Maybe this will make Light Casts a Shadow ring a little more true for some, maybe it will be just another fic that I post, who knows.

Also, one thing I'm planning on experimenting with for this fic is alternate endings for Fun. This is a fic where the ending hinges on choices that Shadowheart makes in the game, so it's only fitting that I explore what would happen if she made those other choices.

But anywho, enough blabbing. Excerpt time!

Those touches and more, Asheera cherished. She watched in silence as Shadowheart turned her devotions to each of those tasks. Perhaps it was the nature of clerics to give themselves entirely to seemingly mundane tasks much the same Asheera felt compelled to consider her oaths in nearly every conversation, battle, or even moments like Shadowheart carefully buckling a cuisse to her leg with straps of leather at the backs of Asheera's knees. Fingertips trailed against her clothed skin, and Shadowheart stood up once more. "There," she said, "all's taken care of, then. Tell me, how's my handiwork? Be honest. I can handle the criticism." Asheera brought her balled fist to her chest in an arm curl. She flexed the elbow out and tested her shoulders, knees, ankles, and hips for motion. None of the plates caught on one another, and none of the straps across her hands, arms, knees, or chest restricted her. "Perfect," Asheera said at last. "Marvelous work." Shadowheart offered a quick smile. "I'll take a Gondian's compliment on such things any day." "Can't say I would've done a better job." "Ah, there's the honesty I was waiting for. Truly, where would you be without me?"

#random rambling about writing #bg3 #shadowheart #shadowtav #shadowheart x tav #oc: asheera #my fic #nightsongs au #amongst other things................