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mothdruid · 6 months

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The Physics of Love - Part Three

series masterlist | part one | part two | part four

pairing.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x afab!reader (nickname Nova)

word count.

3.2k

warnings.

this content is meant for those who are 18 and older, fluff, kissing, alcohol consumption, lots of science talk in this part

authors note.

ahhhhhh!!! they kissed!!! fianlly!! i was smilling like a silly goose the entire time i was writing this chapter. it made me so freaking happy. also, Cranbrook is a real place and you totally check it out if you're ever in that area of Michigan! also no, this story is not based in Michigan, i just needed to think of a cool museum i like to go to.

starboy: I’m at the front of the Institute.

A smile grew on your face as you drew closer to the Institute. Bob had texted you only a few minutes ago. No matter how many times you had been here, Cranbrook never ceased to amaze you. Whether it be the seasonal display, the new mineral added to the collection, or even the ice age display they had, it was all fun and captivating.

You slipped your phone into your coat pocket, making your way to the front of the building. There wasn’t many people around, seeming how it was the middle of the day during the week. The two of you had decided to skip out on one of your tutoring session this week to make it work. Between Bob’s grad experiments and your full time schedule, it was hard to find time.

You had suggested doing it during the weekend, but Bob explained that he didn’t want many people around. It left you confused, curious as to why he didn’t want others around. There were only two things that you had thought of. One, he has social anxiety, and two, he disliked kids. And maybe even a third possibility of kids just plain out making him nervous. No matter what the reason, it didn’t bother you.

All morning you couldn’t stop daydreaming about your date today, which both of you were hesitant to call it that. Excitement was bubbling in you, the promising thought of being able to captivate him. Being able to explain all of the minerals to him, breaking down all of the make ups off them, what element made them appear a certain color, all of the things you loved about mineralogy. But some of that excitement was wrapped around the idea of him explaining the stars to you.

As you were coming around the almost barren fountain you saw him. You put a hand up high, waving to get his attention. He was wearing a denim jacket, burnt orange beanie covering most of his hair, a soft gray sweater underneath the jacket, and all of it complimented with black jeans and basic vans. It was all so him that your heart started to flutter. He smiled and gave you a small wave back.

“Hey,” he said once you got a little closer.

“Hey, I hope you didn’t have to wait too long,” you pushed your hands into the pockets of your long wool blended coat.

“Oh no, not at all,” Bob shook his head no.

The both of you sat there for a second, smiling a little awkwardly. Bob eventually broke the silence.

“Ready to check it out?” He asked, nodding up towards the front doors.

“Yeah,” you said with a smile.

The two of you headed up the small bit of stairs to the front doors. Bob quickly made his way up the steps, opening the door for you when he got to them. After thanking him, you both stepped inside the foyer. Bob held the next door open for you, his hand gracing the small of your back. A heat crept into your cheeks, nervousness pooling in your stomach. Even though you were excited, you could barely believe this was happening.

Bob went to the counter, talking with the employee behind the desk. You waited for him only a few steps away, just looking around. It wasn’t anything new, but you still loved the presence this place had. When you looked back over at Bob he making small talk with the employee, accepting one of the maps of the institute before heading back over to you. He adjusted his glasses a little before flashing the map.

“I got this just in case,” Bob smiled at you.

“Do you think we really need that?” You asked as the two of you headed across the lobby like area to a small set of stairs.

“Probably not, but it never hurts.”

The two of you stepped up the stairs, headed to the first section of the museum. Your favorite section. The mineral gallery.

Glass cases adorned every wall with more glass cases jutting out to create sections. Glimmers of light bounced off the minerals already. There were a few benches placed around in the clear areas. Two specimens were placed in the center walk way. The first specimen that was out in the open was a massive fossil, one that was still embedded into the rock it was found in. The second specimen was an enormous rock, half of it broken to display the clusters of amethyst crystals inside.

Bob felt a flutter in his chest when he watched your eyes light up, lips turning upward. You immediately headed down the center walk way, rounding the corner of a glass case into a small section. Bob took his time getting over to you, making sure to look at a few of the cases on his way over. He knew all of the minerals existed, but seeing them all in person was still astounding. All the colors and different types of crystalline structures they came in. Even though he was a space nerd, this always made him appreciate the earth a little more.

“What did you find?”

Bob turned away from the intriguing silvery gray mineral to see you peering around the corner of a glass case. It made his heart warm seeing you so comfortable. He was always so used to seeing you in a school setting. This was a nice change of pace, something he could get used to.

“I was looking at this,” he beckoned you over with a nod of his head.

You took a look at the mineral he was pointing at. A smile grew on your face as you took a few steps towards him.

“Muscovite,” you said while looking at him, “it a really weak mineral, flakes off in layers.”

“It looks pretty,” Bob looked back at it, taking in the layered effect of the mineral.

“Wanna hear something crazy?”

“Hmm?” Bob looked at you, ready for the fact you were about to tell him.

“Muscovite is used in a lot of make ups, especially the shimmery ones. They bust it up into a fine powder and boom, shiny glittery like substance.”

“Minerals are everywhere in our lives, even when you don’t think about it,” Bob looked at you we a small smile.

“Science is everywhere,” you replied.

“The essence of life is science,” Bob added.

The two of you continued your exploration around the mineral gallery. Bob learned about your favorite mineral, and you urged him to pick a favorite mineral. The both of you took pictures of each other with your mineral, setting them as your contact pictures. Bob couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled this much. There was just this infectious passion that flowed through you about every mineral. Even when you told him that ‘gold was overrated’, it felt only half-hearted like you didn’t want to actually say it.

All of it made Bob’s heart flutter and do back flips. He had met people who were passionate about science, but you were a lot cuter than most of them. The way your eyes lit up when you looked at one you loved. How sometimes a look of focus would consume your face while looking at one. It made him feel warm and fuzzy.

Once you two had looked over every mineral, you moved to the next section of the institute. It was now time for Bob to explain everything to you. Well, almost. The first section was meteorites and space rocks. Bob could tell you weren’t as excited about these minerals as the previous. But it was different.

“I mean, obviously space is going to make neat things. It just seems more exciting when it’s from earth,” you explained.

“How so?”

The two of you were standing close, shoulders almost touching as you two looked down at the collection of meteorites in a glass case. It took almost everything inside of Bob to not brush his shoulder against yours. Little did he know, you were hoping he would.

“I don’t know. I’ve been on earth my whole life, so seeing the cool minerals it can produce. Things that are so rare. It feels almost impossible that they came from the same place I’ve lived my whole life,” you paused for a moment, “space is so unknown, it’s like obviously something neat would come from it. Space has nebula’s for fuck sake.”

Bob couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He looked over at you and smiled, your gaze still focused on the meteorites.

“Yeah, nebula’s are pretty cool,” Bob said.

You broke your gaze for the little black rocks, meeting his eyes. There was this look in his eyes, one full of adoration. Those blue eyes always made your heart melt. They were like beautiful orbs of kyanite, deep but yet light at the same time. A hypnotizing shimmer drawing you in.

The two of you stood there staring at each other for a moment. The world around you starting to fade, both of you only focused on each other. Both of you had been waiting for weeks for a moment like this. Every soft brush of hands while passing an assignment back and forth, late night texts that elicited giggles and smiles, all the early morning coffees he started buying you. You could stay here forever in this moment.

There was a door off to the side, one that led to the constellation room. Without warning the door burst open, two young kids running out. It broke the two of you out of your moment. The kids came running around, coming close behind you two. Bob put his hand around your back, pulling you close to him and keeping the kids from running into you. Two parents followed out the door, trying to catch up to the kids.

One of your hands moved to his chest, steadying yourself against him. The fabric of his sweater was soft against your fingers, almost distracting you from how close you were. All you could do was stare forward, afraid of what might happen if you looked at him. Something soft touched your cheek then moved to touch your jaw slightly. His hand was softer than you imagined. It was guiding you to look at him.

“You okay?”

Your brain went blank, forgetting every word you had ever learned. All you could do was study his face. You had never been this close to him. It felt like you were looking at someone completely new. You were starting to wonder if he could feel the heat in your cheeks or the intense thumping against your rib cage. Eventually you nodded, letting him know you were okay.

A smile pulled at Bob’s lips, eye crinkling a little bit. His thumb brushed over the skin of your cheek lightly. He was assuming that this was all okay, especially if you weren’t pulling away from him. It felt like a good sign at least.

“Do you want to check out the constellation room?”

“Sure,” you said, finally being able to speak. “Are you gonna speak all space like when we get in there?”

Bob chuckled, leaning a little closer to you in the process. There was this boyish grin on his face, eyes twinkling with excitement. “Only if you want me to.”

Your faces were only mere inches away from each other. Someone could simply bump into one of you and the inevitable would happen. The fateful kiss that the both of you were secretly hoping would happen by the end of this date. Was it a date? Neither of you had officially called it that, or at least to each others faces. Mickey had definitely heard Bob gush about you accepting his invite, to which he only called it a date twice.

“I’d be more than happy to hear you talk space to me.”

Bob’s hand loosened from around your body, grabbing your hand instead. He guided you over to the door, opening it for you. But you didn’t let go of his hand, instead turning around and walking in backwards so you could watch him. Bob couldn’t get rid of the smile on his face, nor did he want to. He happily followed you through the short hallway, watching as you remained backwards and walked through the blackout curtains.

The room was almost pitch black. Little projected constellations covered the walls and ceiling. All of them were labeled, tiny projections of their names near them. You had barely any idea of what all of them were. The constellations you had learned during your freshman astronomy class had faded. Only the Big Dipper and Ursa Major stood out to you. But you were more than excited to have Bob tell you about them. After all, he did let you tell him about Muscovite being in makeup.

You tugged at his hand, pulling him a little closer to you. Bob happily stepped closer to you. The two of you had slowly wandered towards the middle of the room. Bob squeezed your hand, his free hand coming up to adjust his glasses lightly. Neither of you could make out the others eye color. All that was there was little glints reflecting in your eyes.

“Which one is your favorite?” You asked.

“Favorite constellation or star?” He replied, earning a barely visible eye roll from you.

“Both,” you said playfully.

Bob paused for a moment, looking around the room for his specific favorites. It wasn’t too hard for him to find them, his trained eyes knowing the exact shape of the constellation and exact brightness of the star. The constellation was the first one he found.

“There,” Bob turned your body the right way to see the constellation.

His chest was practically flush with your back. His left hand grabbed your left shoulder, pointing at the constellation with the other one. Sudden;y you felt hot breath on your neck and ear.

“Do you see it?” He whispered.

It was hard to focus on the constellations with Bob this close. But you found it, with the help of his pointing. You turned your head barely, eyes flicking down to where his lips should be for a second.

“Yeah,” the word almost came out as a whisper.

“It’s called Delphinus,” Bob’s eyes were trained on your face now, “it’s the shape of a dolphin, representing Poseidon’s messenger Delphini.”

“Is your favorite star in that constellation?”

“No,” Bob started to turn your body with his. Once he found it he stopped the two of you. “There.”

You saw the star immediately. It was a bright star, brighter than some of the other projections. The name attached to the constellation it was a part of was Lyra. The dusty old astronomy cogs in your brain started to turn.

“The swan,” the words passed your lips before you could think.

“Yeah, but the star is Vega,” Bob’s hand drifted down from your shoulder to your back, “the fifth brightest star in the sky. A lot of people over look it cause it isn’t the brightest, but it’s two point one times as massive as the sun. The sun just happens to be older. Plus, I like the bluish white light it gives off.”

Even though it was still dark in the room, it felt like Vega had brightened it up since Bob had explained it. You turned to him, who was still impossibly close to you. There were only a few layers of clothing separating your bodies, but nothing separating your lips. His lips were soft as they moved against yours. It wasn’t anything intense, but it was everything you had been hoping for in a first kiss with him.

Little fireworks were going off in your mind. His hand was resting at the small of your back, applying just enough pressure to keep you pressed into him. Your hands came up to rest on his chest, the denim of his jacket and wool from his sweater rubbing your palms. The wire frame of his glasses was bumping into your nose as the kiss continued. Lips melding together, two beings that were destined to be together finally connecting. It was a perfect science.

“I’ve been waiting to do that,” Bob whispered while resting his forehead against yours.

“Me too,” you replied, biting your lip with a smile.

The rest of the date went just as perfect. It was full of hand holding and giggles, the occasional photo being taken by one of you. Bob happily took a picture of you squaring up with the taxidermied grizzly bear, which became your contact photo. You took one of Bob with his hands up and fake yelling in front of the T-Rex, earning contact photo status as well. You had a hard time deciding on his contact photo, torn between that one and one of him in the black light space room. The goofy one just seemed more him to you.

Neither of you had planned on going to dinner afterwards, but it happened anyways. Since it was last minute it wasn’t anything too nice. A simple bra that was full of people having fun. It helped relieve the small bit of anxiety about it all for the two of you. Bob nursed a draft Blue Moon while you sipped on a draft papaya Cider Boys. You shared a tray of loaded nachos, order of soft pretzels, and plate of deep fried green beans.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you laughed, “you stole a street sign sophomore year?”

“I was really drunk,” Bob replied, “but it wasn’t only me. Without Mickey and Jake it wouldn’t have happened, I don’t think I would have even gone out that night if not for them.”

“Do you still have it?” You asked, then shoveled a heavily covered nacho into your mouth.

“Jake does,” Bob smiled at you before taking a swig of his beer.

“Your friends sound fun,” you held your hand in front of your face, not wanting to flash him the food you were chewing.

“They are,” Bob looked at his beer for a moment, “they are a lot of things, but without them I wouldn’t be here. Here in this very bar with you.”

“Oh really?” A playfully questioning look covered your features while you drank from your cider.

“Really,” Bob adjusted his glasses, “Mickey was the one who encouraged me to, well,” Bob gestured between the two of you and around the table.

Your face lit up, smiling brightly then biting your lip. It was something truly special, hearing that Bob had talked about you with such close friends. Your roommates were the only people that knew of him, but they were your closest friends, so it made sense. Thoughts of meeting his friends and introducing him to yours started to fill your mind. Were Bob’s friends like him? They didn’t sound to be like him. But it made you wonder.

“I’ll have to thank him if I meet him,” you replied.

Bob smiled and nodded, taking a drink of his beer. Him not saying anything worried you a tiny bit. Was what you said too much? Was it assuming something this wasn’t?

Bob noticed your worry immediately, even if it wasn’t that obvious. He set his glass down and reached across the table. The warmth of his hand encapsulated yours. You met his gaze, finding something soft and welcoming in it.

“They are, they’re a lot sometimes,” Bob told you.

“Trust me, mine are too.”

tags:

@wkndwlff

@thedroneranger

@callsign-sprout

@redbarn1995

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd fluff #tutor!bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x afab!reader #bob and nova #the physics of love

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rancidpancakebatter · 2 years

Text

In the Name of Good | Prt 1 -[P.P.]

Pairings: Dark!Yandere!Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Prompt: "what are we going to do about this?" you're caught, red-handed, and peter's next move could destroy your life forever. unless… you can convince him otherwise

Summary: Peter is acting strange and curiosity kills the cat

word Count: 6k words

Content: MINORS DNI: 18+

Swearing, Somnophillia, Murder, Mentions of blood, Mentions of emesis, Animal Abuse/harm (Murder Triad stuff)

( Part 2 | Masterlist )

A/N: AHHHHHH! I'm so sorry I'm late I saw this like 30 minutes ago and whipped this up. Anyway, congrats to @liz-allyn and I'm honoured that you would wanna read anything I write. This is for you :))

Also, there is a literal murder scene in here so read at your own discretion. Perhaps I should cut back on the true crime after this. It's separated from the rest of the text and in italics so you can avoid it if you wish not to read

Peter Parker was the kindest man you knew. You grew up down the street from each other. Your parents moved into his neighbourhood when you were 7 years old. You sat in the front yard with a popsicle as the adults passed you by, carrying many heavy boxes. Across the street, you saw the curtains move. A mop of brown curls ducking as soon as you looked.

Peter had never really had friends before. Always been more of a loner. Aunt May had been preparing cookies all day and promised to take him over when “the new neighbours look more settled.” But he was impatient. He watched as you sat across the street, red popsicle dripping down your chin and fingers. He was fascinated by it. He liked the colour and the way it danced down your arm, enchanting.

You quickly became best friends, walking to school every day and playing at recess together. Peter didn’t treat you differently because you were a girl, he didn’t treat you like you were dainty. He would encourage you to jump off the swings with him. He would do nerf battles with you. He would rough house too.

Peter was your best friend and you loved him unconditionally. In middle school, you had your first crush: Noah Myers. Peter didn’t like him very much but you were head over heels for this boy. He called you pretty and drew you flowers that you would keep in your locker. He asked you to the spring dance and you were so excited to go. Peter and Aunt May took you dress shopping and it was so much fun, until he ditched you to dance with some other girl, an eighth grader no less. You could never compete with her.

That night you cried into Peter’s shoulder and he told you he would make him pay. You weren’t sure what he meant by that, and you never did. Noah showed up to school for a week and then disappeared. People said he moved others said he transferred schools but no one knew for sure.

By high school, many people thought that You and Peter were dating. Your relationship could be seen as co-dependent but you didn’t really care. He made you feel safe. There was hardly a secret between you two. He regularly spent the night at your place and his bed was always open to you. He was there for every milestone; you couldn’t imagine anyone else you would want to share those moments with.

That was until senior year. He started getting distant, he wouldn’t answer his phone for hours at a time and would never explain why. You thought maybe he had a girlfriend, but who? The thought alone made you feel like you were putting your heart through a vegetable spiralizer. It’s true that you weren't dating but you liked his attention. You had never thought of sharing it. Maybe that was selfish of you.

This went on for weeks and you were starting to get restless. What was he doing? What was he hiding? You stayed by your bedroom window on a Tuesday afternoon, watching his house. What you didn’t realise was that Peter was watching you too. He always did. He would watch you through his camera lens from the comfort of his bed. You knew he took pictures of you, you had seen them tacked up on his wall. He explained they were candids and you thought nothing more of it. His sweet, gullible, little lamb.

You didn’t see the stash he had in a book under his bed. He had cut out the pages to make room for your beauty. You had never thought to be reserved around Peter, sometimes changing in front of him. It was a cruel tease that you thought so little of him. He would watch you after school, as you studied, cleaned your room, and did your little workout that drove him crazy.

But today was different. Today you were looking right at him. You didn’t realise this of course, but you were. Why were you watching him, or trying to at least? Had he raised your suspicion? Had you been following the news? He knows Aunt May has warned him about going out at night. He wonders if someone had given you the same talk.

Hello, little lamb, he thought, What is it you want to know? He had to play his cards right. He could make himself visible, see what you might do. He could stay hidden and enjoy knowing you were looking for him. He could call you, pretend to be busy, see if you falter. So many options, so many choices.

Peter liked having choices. He likes making choices for others. That’s something he relished in you. You were so obedient, so willing to act on his will. It might be the only reason he hadn’t been caught. Knowing that it might come back to you made him careful. He had to protect you, keep you safe from the dangers of this world.

Like the dog on Kalamasis Street that tried to bite you. That stupid mutt scared you, snarling and barking at you. It had threatened you and he couldn’t stand for that. He felt joy in the missing fliers hung around the block. He pointed one out to you, just to see what you would say. He swelled with pride when you declared “Serves it right. I just hope it doesn’t come back to finish what it started.”

Peter couldn’t tell you that he knew it wouldn’t. Not yet. He had to make sure you were ready. He had to know that you would accept him and all his flaws. He had to know you would stand by him. He couldn’t lose you, neither of you would survive it.

You were patient, he’ll give you that. Three hours passed with you sitting at your window sill before you called him. He watched as you fumbled with the device in your hands, mulling it over. A choice. You chose to call him.

“Hey Petey, you home?” You sounded chipper but you didn’t know he could see the worry on your face. The way you picked at your nailbed nervous about his answer.

“My car’s out front right?” he chuckled, delighting in your desire to see him.

“Can I come over?” he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. You were so cute.

“Of course, little lamb, you’re always welcome over.” You smiled and he took a picture. You were so perfect, the way you were leaning over the window sill, your breasts pushed out in that thin tank top you had on.

He watched as you made your way across the street, backpack in hand. You had made another choice: to spend the night. Peter was conflicted with himself. He wanted to go out tonight, but having you in his bed would make it difficult. Not because you would catch him, you never did, but it might distract him.

You loved spending the night at Peter’s. It was the best rest you ever had. Maybe it was because his home was homier than yours. His came with an Aunt May, homemade dinners, and a bigger bed. It didn’t matter how much you complained, your parents refused to get you anything bigger than a twin. You think it’s because they’re not as on board with Pete spending the night but you don’t care. You just share your twin and your parents will either have to get you a bigger bed or sleep knowing you and Peter have to snuggle to fit.

Pete meets you at the door and basks in the smile that spreads across your face. You make your way to the dining room table where you begin to work on your homework. Peter joins you and you enjoy the quiet, it feels nice just to be with him. You suddenly feel stupid for getting so jealous over a girl who probably didn’t exist.

You didn’t notice Peter watching your every move as if trying to memorise the choreography of your mundane mannerisms. The way you twirled everything that entered your hand, a pen, a pencil, a straw. The way you would let out three quick puffs of air when you got stumped on something. The way you crossed and uncrossed your legs in thought.

Being “normal” around you was hard, even though his normal around you was already odd. He decided to take advantage of his time with you, hoping perhaps he can satiate himself with you and not need to go out tonight. He let out a dramatic puff of air, catching your attention.

“I can’t focus.” You leaned on your hand pouting.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You were always so willing to serve.

“Can you sit on my lap? You’re too far and it’s distracting.” You got up without a second thought. Physical closeness with Peter was something you were so used to. Whether it be holding hands, cuddling, or sitting on his lap, that was just expected.

You sat on his thigh and it took everything in him not to grab your hips and slowly start grinding you against him. He wondered what you would sound like, what sweet noises and pleas you would make for him. He wondered if you had ever done something like that. He imagines you grinding against a stuffed animal he had given you. What would Mr Whiskers say if he could talk?

You were so oblivious to him and it both excited and angered him. It excited him because he knew he could get away with quite a bit. But it angered him because he wanted you to be his, all his and no one else's. He remembered the guy from your econ class then.

You had worn a skirt Peter had bought you to school today. You loved anything Peter picked out for you and wore it with pride. It was definitely too short for dress code but you were such a sweetheart no one dared scold you. That guy didn’t care how sweet you were.

Peter watched as he trailed behind you in the halls, just staring at your ass, making obscene gestures that his lackeys would laugh at. He had to pay. He couldn’t get away with that. Ogling at what wasn’t his. You none the wiser, too sweet and kind to know what he meant. Peter had to protect you, his little lamb.

It was nine o’clock, time for bed. Peter preferred to stay up but he could never say no to you. You dressed in your pyjamas and Peter watched, he watched as you pulled your shirt off exposing your perfect back to him. He wanted to kiss and lick up your spine, have you mewling, begging for more. You unhooked your bra and for a moment he was jealous of the Smith’s poster on the wall that got to see them. It’s not that Peter hasn’t seen them, it’s just always been through a viewfinder, two planes of glass and a street away.

He always slept in his boxers and you never thought anything of it. It never occurred to you that maybe that was too intimate between friends. He was in his home and could sleep as he wished. You got in bed as Peter went to get you some water. He always did this. Made sure you had plenty to eat and drink. Every time you spent the night he gave you a glass of water and made you drink it all, he was just so kind.

While fixing your drink he tried to focus on you. He tried to convince himself that a night with you was better than a night out, but all he could think about was that fucking guy. He had gone through the yearbook and found him. Blake Walsh was the son of Debera and John Walsh. John owned a landscaping company and after a little digging, he found their address. He couldn’t not go out tonight. Not after what he did to you.

He stirred your glass, making sure the sleep aid fully dissolved. After inspecting it closely he was pleased with his work. You smiled at him as you accepted the water, downing it in seconds before rolling over and patting the place next to you. Peter wasted no time climbing in after you. It wasn’t long before sleep overtook you. Peter waited patiently for your light snores before moving. He had a busy night ahead of him.

First, he petted your face, moving the hair out of the way. You didn’t even flinch. He had been worried he hadn’t used enough melatonin, you were starting to build a tolerance over the years so he had to give you more, always careful to not use too much. He didn’t want you to be suspicious. He ripped the blankets off of you and rolled you onto your back.

He took in your sleeping form, nipples peaked through your thin shirt due to the sudden coldness, your exposed hip from where it rode up, your shorts bunched. He wanted to ravish you. He checked the clock, 10:30. He had to finish his night by three. It would take him at least two hours to take care of Blake, but he always underestimated.

He had thirty minutes to enjoy you. He began by slowly pulling down your shorts, listening carefully for any disturbance from you. Once your shorts were off he buried his head between your thighs. He thanked whatever deity was out there for giving him this gift of heightened sent. God, you smelled so good he could almost taste you. He couldn’t help himself, he laid his tongue flat against your core through your cotton panties. He relished in the little squirm you made.

He allowed himself a few more licks before he couldn’t stand it any longer. He was rutting against the bed, his hard-on leaking precum onto the sheets. He pulled his boxers off and sat back at the head of the bed. He slowly lifted your hand, kissing your knuckles before spitting into your palm. He listened carefully, monitoring your heart rate and breathing pattern as he went. He slowly wrapped your fingers around his member, it twitched in your hand.

He started stroking himself with it, your skin was so soft. He bit his lip as he sped up your movements. He stared at your innocent face, he wondered what you would look like falling apart from his hands. Maybe one day he’d know. It wasn’t long before he was cumming, heightened senses making him sensitive. He carefully licked your hand clean before going to the bathroom to clean himself up.

He got dressed and went to his closet. He had made a lock for it, much similar to his bedroom door, but this one was a combination lock. Aunt May was never in his room much and if she asked he had a collection of porno mags he would pull out and pretend to be ashamed of. He was sure she would let it go after that.

He grabbed his go bag and headed out the window. He had gotten into a routine of sorts for his adventures. First, he put his car in neutral and pushed it down the street to the stop sign. Anyone who saw him would just think he was a teenager sneaking out, nothing more. With his newfound strength, it was quite easy to do. Secondly, he would arrive a mile from the location. His endurance was much better now and running was easy, as was scaling houses. This brings us to three, find a point of entry/distraction.

When he first started he was more of the blitz attacker. Finding someone on a night run and ending it there, no planning, no flair, just a rush. But now he was getting good at this. He surveyed the house for a bit, it was quiet, and there didn’t seem to be any security measures. He could work with that. He saw a light on in one of the rooms, upon closer inspection he realised it was Blake’s. He was up on his phone, not seemingly doing much.

He found a doggie door in the backdoor and hopped around in silent glee. If he could pull this off he could get two kills tonight.

__________

He shimmied through and began listening for bodies. He heard something on the ground floor with him. He crept around the kitchen and opened a small door. It was a laundry room and there in the corner was his prize.

A beautiful golden retriever, none the wiser to his presence. He knelt beside it and it started to stir. He quickly clamped his hand around its mouth squeezing enough for it to yelp. He snapped his neck, taking its collar in his pocket. He lifted the dog over his shoulder and made his way under Blake’s window. He threw a couple of stones at the window and it wasn’t long until Blake opened it.

He was surprised to see Peter, even more, surprised to see him holding PopTart over his shoulder.

“Parker, what the hell are you doing here?” He whispered loudly.

“Hey, is this your dog? I don’t think she’s doing too well.” Peter bit back a smile. It was almost too easy. He watched as Blake began to panic before rushing away from the window.

Peter heard him open the front door and dropped the dog before scaling the side of the house to get a better view. Blake looked around briefly for Peter before falling to his knees in front of his dog. Peter watched as Blake began to shake her more and more before crying out.

“You know,” Blake’s head shot up at hearing Peter’s voice looking around before finally seeing him clinging to the side of his house. “You should really lock your doggy door.”

Blake said nothing as his brain continued to process. Peter lept off as he balled his fists together, knocking blake on the head. He picked them both up, one on each shoulder, “Really, any old creep could get in.”

__________

Peter returned to you at two am exhausted but very happy. When you woke up the next morning in his arms you were none the wiser about his escapades. Aunt May made you breakfast before you carpooled to school. You teased Peter for being such a morning person when you still felt groggy. Peter only chuckled, offering you some of his coffee and you took an appreciative sip.

You had a great day and Peter did too. He seemed extra affectionate, hugging you from behind, kissing you on the cheek. You appreciated it after feeling neglected for a month. You couldn’t remember the last time Peter seemed so happy.

That didn’t last when you walked in together on school Thursday. Peter immediately took notice of the extra cops in the school. He walked you to your locker and stared them down over your shoulder. They didn’t seem to suspect him. Why would they, they couldn’t know, right?

In English, he noticed a mob around Gwen Stacy. He took his seat listening in, “Yeah, my dad said Blake is missing. They think he might have run away or something. His window was open and his dog is missing too.”

He heard someone ask if she thought he was murdered, “My dad won’t tell me anything else but I’m sure he’s fine.”

Peter knew he wasn’t, Peter knew where he was. He was gone, unable to hurt you again.

That night at dinner May seemed on edge. “(Y/n), I know your parents are out of town but I would prefer it if you spent the night here.”

You looked at her confused and Peter shared your expression. “Mrs Parker, you know I’m never one to turn down an invitation. Are you worried about me being alone?”

May took a sip of water, and Peter recognised this look. She was worried but didn’t want to worry anyone else. Always the protector, never the protected. “I know it’s probably nothing but with those murders in the park and that kid missing…it has me worried. I don’t want you in that house alone. If anything happened to you-”

“Nothing would ever happen to her.” Peter hadn’t meant to say it. He hadn’t meant to snap like that. He felt anger rise in his gut at the insinuation, that May thought he would ever hurt you. Of course, she didn’t know that she had implied that, but he did and it angered him.

He melted a little when you rested your hand on his. He looked into your sad eyes and let himself be swaddled in your tone. “I know you would never let anything happen to me, okay Pete? I’m not going anywhere.”

You were so sweet and kind. To you, his outburst was out of fear. The fear of losing anyone else. You had held him as he cried over Uncle Ben, listening to his last voicemail on repeat. You had consoled him as a child when someone told him his parents hadn’t died they just didn’t love him enough to stay. You had been there for him, and he was determined to do the same.

That week you stayed at the Parker’s. You opted to just change at home as it was just across the street, instead of trying to pack all those clothes. Peter always accompanied you. He took the time to pick out your outfits and raid your panty drawer. He was a sick fuck and he knew it, but he couldn’t help himself.

By the following Friday, Peter was getting restless. Spending every night with you was nice but he needed to get out again. His brain was foggy and he couldn’t focus on anything, even you weren’t helping.

That night when braiding your hair Peter grew curious. He wanted to tell you but he couldn’t, not yet. “So what do you think happened to that Blake kid?”

You were quiet for a minute and Peter worried you might not have heard him. “I think I chase boys away.”

That definitely wasn’t the response he was expecting, “What?”

He tied off the end of your braid and turned you around in his lap so you were facing him. You rested your hands on the back of his neck, head turned unable to look at him.

“It’s like, any guy that might like me just…disappears.” Peter raised his eyebrows, shocked you could even piece that together. You hadn’t said anything before.

“What do you mean?” Peter knew exactly what you meant but needed to know how much you knew.

“Well first it was Noah, he left me at the dance and then left forever. There was Micheal who flirted with me for a bit and then three days before our date just vanished. And now Blake, he just complimented my skirt. I’m not even sure he was into me but it was enough and now he…he ran away.” Peter could hear your voice breaking and moved to grab your chin. You didn’t fight as he raised it, levelling your gaze.

“Hey, it’s their fucking loss, okay? You are the most amazing person I know, anyone would be lucky to have you.” You sniffled and he continued. “Besides, none of those guys are worth a shit. No one is compared to you, little lamb.”

He placed a gentle kiss on your cheek before tucking you in and curling into your side. It wasn’t long before you were asleep and Peter snuck out to go to the park.

You woke up in the middle of the night. You felt cold. You realised then that Peter wasn’t in bed with you. You went downstairs to get a glass of water. Maybe Peter was right to give you water before bed, he didn’t tonight and now you couldn’t sleep.

You called out softly for him, but he didn’t answer. Was he not home? You checked the clock on the stove: 1:45. He shouldn’t be out. You made your way to the living room window and were surprised to see his car wasn’t there.

You were worried making your back upstairs. You climbed back into bed, tossing and turning unable to sleep. That’s when you noticed his closet was open. It was never opened. You stared at the small crack in the door, it called your name like a siren’s song. You told yourself you were only going to grab a hoodie, you were cold. You weren’t going to snoop.

You wish you never had. You wish you could go back to before you knew. When you first opened it you saw chalk on the wall. A bunch of tally marks. You thought it was odd. Then you noticed there were no clothes in here. The shelves were lined with odd trinkets, rings, a shoelace. You noticed a ziplock baggie with hair, a date hastily scribbled on, and you began to get nauseous. You noticed a dog collar, the tag glinting in the moonlight. You flipped it over and your heart fell to the floor.

It was from the dog down the street. You remembered seeing the same name and collar on the missing sign. The address lined up too. You began digging and you found more collars, more jewellery, even keys.

You found a bloody baseball card in the same bag as a dog collar. You turned it over, PopTart Walsh. Your hands shook as you realised what you were looking at. His trophies. There were so many, this had to be going on for years. You turned to the chalkboard and began counting the tallies.

“900” You gasped dropping the collar with a loud clatter. You hadn’t heard him come in.

“Well, it is now. Technically, there are 899 tallies there, but after tonight,” he held up a pair of headphones already bagged and dated, “It’s 900.”

You took slow steps back and he matched each one, hands turned out. Your back met the wall and you squeaked as you realised you had backed yourself into the closet.

“Woah there, little lamb, be careful. You don’t want to hurt yourself.” His smile looked sickening in the moonlight. You had never felt fear like this before. You had started crying, cheeks feeling itchy as each tear dried.

“Aw, you poor thing. Why don’t you come on out of there and we can go to bed.” His tone was the same as always, gentle and soothing. You didn’t like it anymore, it seemed false now. Now that you knew he was anything but gentle. But what could you do?

You took slow steps forward feeling your heart drop with every pace towards his open arms. He held you tightly, pinning your arms to your sides, as he nuzzled your neck with his nose. You felt sick, you hated that his touch still made feel special. After everything you’d seen, after everything you know, you still find yourself melting into his embrace.

Peter feels your heartbeat start to steady and pulls away slightly. He cradles your face, your hair stuck between his palms and your cheeks. He tuts as he wipes your tears with his thumbs, “Why aren’t you in bed, little one?”

Your breathing was still quick but you tried your best to answer. “I- I was cold. You were gone. I got- I got scared.”

You felt your eyes start to water again and Peter fixed you with a soft smile. One that would usually make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “Little lamb, you have nothing to be afraid of.”

He observed you for a while, trying to decide his next move. You knew now. The cat’s out of the bag and one of this size certainly can’t be swept under the rug. This was going to change everything.

“You have a choice,” His tone was low and silky. You shuddered as his breath ran over the bridge of your nose. “You can try and run, but I assure you, you won’t get very far.”

Your stomach dropped at his words as if the gravity of the situation finally hit you. You were in danger. You were in danger because your best friend was a serial killer and would kill you to not get caught. Peter had never threatened you before. Not even jokingly.

“Or, you can be a good little girl and wait for me.” Your blood ran cold at the nickname. It wasn’t one he used often. You could count on one hand the amount of times he had used it in the 10 years you’ve known him.

You nodded your head and he tutted again, “Words, darling.”

You swallowed, your mouth suddenly feeling dry, “I’ll be good.”

Peter seemed satisfied by your answer and rewarded you with a kiss on the forehead. You sat on his bed as you heard the water start to run. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the closet door. The more you looked into the inky blackness the more it seemed to pull you in. Your head hurt. Suddenly you couldn’t breathe. Wild thoughts began to race through your mind.

How long had this been going on?

Were you dying right now?

Had he poisoned you?

Was he going to kill you anyway?

Had he really killed 900 people?

Before you realised what you were doing you felt the morning dew on your bare feet. The sensation shocked you back into your body. You left. You weren’t a good girl, you had left. And now Peter was going to punish you, probably in a deadly capacity. You considered turning back, but the thought of looking in that closet again almost made you hurl on the Parker’s front lawn.

You made your way across the street and went up to your room. You didn’t bother locking the door. If Peter wanted to get to you, you doubted a locked door would stop him. You raced up the stairs and into your ensuite bathroom.

You felt like a wreck, Your head pounding as your stomach expelled everything it could. You rinsed your mouth out and began brushing your teeth, wanting to rid your mouth of the bitter taste of bile. After rinsing your face you turned back to your room. You climbed into bed facing the window, you didn’t see any movement yet. Everything seemed still at the Parker house. For a moment you thought you might have dreamed it. Just a moment though.

“You ran away.” His voice was stone, sending shivers down your spine.

You curled into yourself as if that would somehow save you, “No, I didn’t”

You heard his footfall on the carpet, he was right behind you now, “Arguing isn’t going to help you, little lamb.”

You felt his hand grip your shoulder. It hurt as he ripped at it, pulling you to face him. The shadows of the room painted him in an eerie light. His hood was pulled over his face, only his mouth illuminated by the velvety glow of the street lights.

“I couldn’t-” You took a deep breath, suddenly feeling breathless again. “I couldn’t stay in there. I felt like the darkness was going to swallow me up.”

Peter’s demeanour changed, it was like your words flicked a switch. His countenance changed to one of pity. You weren’t sure you liked it. He sat by your legs before bending over and picking you up. It felt unnatural, the strength he had, the way he lifted you like it was nothing.

He tucked you into his chest, stroking your hair. “Poor thing, I’m so sorry you had to see that. I know you weren’t ready.” You stayed silent, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sure you have questions,” he left a quick peck on your scalp, “ask away.”

You thought for a moment before opening your mouth, “Have you really killed 900 people?”

He chuckled, the rumbling shaking your body, “No, that’s just how many things I’ve killed. I started the tally not long before you came along. It’s mostly bugs and animals. I’ve only killed 9 people.”

You almost laughed at the absurdity, only 9. As if ending a human life wasn’t such a big deal. It wasn’t much only 9. You asked the only question you could think of next. The one you were burning to know since you first realised. The one you feared the most. “Why?”

Peter was silent for a moment, seemingly thinking through his answer. “Many reasons. I like it, for starters. It feels good. Most of them deserved it, well that’s not true I suppose. Those Joggers didn’t do anything wrong but Noah and Michael and Blake,” he said the last name with so much venom you winced.

“They deserved it.” He was quiet for a minute and you thought maybe he was done. You shifted to look at his face. You had begun to hate yourself in this exchange. You shouldn’t enjoy sitting in his lap like this. You shouldn’t think he’s pretty. You shouldn’t fantasize about his pulling you close into an earth-shattering kiss. But you were and you hated yourself for that.

He moved a fallen strand of hair from your face before resting his hand there, “I didn’t mean to kill Noah. I really didn’t. But I can’t say that I’m sorry for it either.”

“You seem pretty sure of your actions. I wouldn’t expect you to be.” He chuckled again at your words. You hated yourself for the pride blooming in your chest at making him laugh.

His face fell again as he sighed, “When Uncle Ben died I was devastated. He was killed…all because he couldn’t mind his own business. As I watched my uncle bleed out I was horrified but also…excited? That’s not the right word. I watched as the blood left his body and I felt, I dunno, alive. It was like his life was being poured into mine, and it was beautiful.”

Your brows knitted together as he spoke, it was terrifying to hear him talk like that. “I was given powers and I knew what I had to do. I had to avenge him. That’s why his life force was given to me, so I could kill the fucker that got him.”

You nodded your head slowly, that was really the only thing Peter had said that made sense. His righteous anger was justified. “Did you? Did you kill him I mean?”

Peter’s smile stretched, pulling out the dimples in his face, “Yes, I did.”

You mulled his words over, growing confused again, “You said you got powers? What kind of powers? Why- Why do this?”

Peter threw his head back as a laugh ripped through his chest. You braced your hands on his biceps in fear. “Oh, little lamb, I have been chosen by the universe, given the strength of a god, given the power of a god. This is what I was meant to do.”

You shook your head, not wanting to accept that Peter was made for such horrors. “Why not use your powers for good?”

He tilted his head like a puppy, brows furrowed and mouth pulled into a pout. You thought for a moment that you had gotten to him, that maybe you had turned him to the light. “I’m using them to protect you. What better good is there?”

You shook your head burying it in his chest. He was doing this for you. It was your fault Blake was dead. It was your fault those joggers in the park would never go home to their families. It was all your fault. You began sobbing gripping his jacket in your shaky palms. Peter shooshed you, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“I think that’s enough for tonight.” He pulled back the blankets and let you sink into the mattress. He stripped down to his boxers and climbed in behind you, holding you close to his chest. “Sleep now, it’ll all be fine in the morning.”

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merrycrisis-if · 10 months

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here's song vomit hehe<3

qiu?:

Nothing Without You - Tanerélle

If You Love Me (Really Love Me) - Brenda Lee

Florence + The Machine: Stand By Me & Never Let Me Go (Never let me go? Y'know that part where the MC begs Qiu to not let them go <3)

Wait by the River - Lord Huron

Not Done Yet - SOJA

Sanctify - Years & Years (Acoustic) (wlw? mlm? oh to be fruity in a conservative place)

Honeybee - The Head and The Heart

pls don't perceive me, this is way worse than eye contact ~Thanks!~

Ahhhhhh thank you x 100000!! So many gems in here!!!

Florence + The Machine and The Head and The Heart have been bands that I listen to whenever I wanna dwell in heartbreak emotions, so—I'm absolutely with you on those.

Also really enjoyed Wait by the River (which crazily, I'd not heard of before this—madness!)

And most importantly?? Sanctify - Years & Years!!!! God. Why'd you go and do that to me. It's perfect for Qiu, especially perfect for same-sex Qiu. Like——

Give me your confession, saying Lately, life's been tearing you apart Now Walk through the fire with you 'Cause I know how it can hurt Being cut in two, and afraid

??? Already amazing, and then the chorus comes—

So don't break (break) Sanctify my body with pain (pain) Sanctify the love that you crave (crave) Oh, and I won't, and I won't, and I won't be ashamed Sanctify my sins when I pray ... etc. etc.

Then the random verses continue to be so delicious?? Excuse me?? Also the recurring motif of fire, first walking through it (external conflict e.g. Qiu's mom, societal expectations) and then having it consume [you] from the insside (internal conflict, Qiu's own feelings)???

You don't have to be straight with me I see what's underneath your mask I'm a man like you, I breathe the rituals of the dancer's dance Oh, oh And there's fire in you And you know it's gonna hurt, being cut in two And afraid

Yeah anyway. Sorry, I promise Merry Crisis is not becoming a music blog. I'll stop now. But thank you.

#merry crisis #if #interactive fiction #asks #more song recs #y'all are smashing it out of the park with these recs #Qiu

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apolloanddaphnis · 1 year

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hi! maybe u could write something where reader and Tim are close friends at first and then one night she sees her ex at a party with another girl and she’s so upset. Timothée comforts her and then says they should make her ex jealous by dancing, flirting, cuddling. Y/n keeps looking to see if her ex is watching at first but then she really starts to fall for timothee and realizes he’s the one she wants so she kisses him and he takes her to the nearest room and they’re confessing feelings for each other and it’s beautiful 🤩

Omg my first anon request, this is so rad I'm literally a nobody!!! Ahhhhhh thank you for requesting me, I hope I got this right ♥.

Disclaimer: kind of obsessive Timmy, around 2k words of not proofread.

I looked up to see my very beautiful best friend straddling my waist, but it wasn't going like how I fantasized almost every night and day. She was wearing my Bauhaus shirt that's been missing, her luscious thighs exposed to my pleasure, and it took everything I had to not slide my hands up the expanse of them, we're touchy but not THAT touchy.

She was holding a plastic, bloody, Halloween knife in my face and an attempt at a merciless expression on her doll-like face.

"Uh…is this how you ask how you like my eggs?" I joked.

"You jerk!" She hit my bare chest with the party city weapon which hurt more than you'd think.

"Ow!"

"You hid my doll!" She whined, she didn't know but her whining always got me hard and that wasn't great especially since I had morning wood.

"Your Dalton doll?"

Dalton was her dipshit ex boyfriend. They met at a club, she said they had an instant connection and was hopeful since they were the same sign. I want to gage his eyes out and pour acid on his dick.

I've wanted her for only since we've met, she thought I was asking her friend out, when I was trying to ask her out and I ended up going out with her friend instead, and well she figured out after a month that it was Y/N that I wanted and promised not to tell.

But Dalton.

The douche who dumped her because she quote wasn't driven enough. Who the fuck says that to someone? Especially someone you were in a relationship with. I wanted to push him off the Brooklyn Bridge and see if he could fly.

She came to my place in tears, crying that she wasn't enough, calling herself stupid and useless and going nowhere. A stark difference for when she first met the wannabe rock star.

He had a band and she was at a show seeing her friend's band play. I wasn't there that night, if I was I wouldn't have let that happen. He was lead singer of some band, doing well enough that they ended up getting signed, and with that he dumped her. Said she spent too much time supporting him, promoting his band, and making t-shirts. He asked her if she wanted to do anything else with her life, she's a dog sitter and he made her feel like a piece of crap under his shoe for it.

She cried in my arms all night when he dumped her. It took her three hours to convince me not to kill him by choking him with chicken wire.

We were at a party last night, and we saw his band there, the classic rock wannabes that performed at the Grammys. He acted like he never knew her, he looked right through her like she never existed, like they didn't spend a year together, like it wasn't the worst year of my life.

We left the party early and Y/N got so drunk, and had gotten her own Dalton voodoo doll, planning to lay many curses on him. I had to calm her down. I thought she forgot that I got rid of that thing.

My silly, whimsical girl. I wish she wouldn't waste her tears on him.

"Let's go out tonight, Pete wants me to try this new club downtown. It's very exclusive, probably won't see he who shall not be named." I attempted soothing my little tempest, rubbing her back.

She narrowed her eyes in thought and suspicion, slowly lowering the knife. "We'll get so dressed up, you love dressing up."

She looked around. "Will you let me dress you up?" She asked almost childlike. I laughed and sat up, causing her to shift in my lap. "Anything you want."

Her eyes lit up a little and she dropped the knife before climbing off of me, and I missed the weight of her.

''You're forgiven, I'll make some breakfast!" Just like that she was fine.

Tonight arrived faster than I was prepared for, and we did go all out. She gave me a little facial, her stroking fingers felt wonderful on my face and I loved having my head in her lap. The lavender mask was nice too. Apparently I have combination skin.

She did my makeup, it took her mind off of the D word. She enhanced my lips with lip liner and gloss, my eyes with eyeliner and highlighter touched my cheekbones, nose, chin, lips, and head. Y/N painted my nails black and dressed me in leather pants, combat boots, and a black sheer shirt. My favorite part about being her Ken doll was all the touching. I know that's creepy but I don't care.

I wasn't prepared for her to come out like that.

I was waiting in my living room and she came out in a tight, black, sweetheart dress with razor thin straps. The dress was practically strapless, enhancing her cleavage and only ended right below her thigh. She grabbed her red heart shaped purse and my eyes went down to her thigh highs black, leather boots.

My heart was beating so fast and I felt like my lungs were going to collapse. "Fuck, y/n–"

She did a seductive little pose. "Is it okay?"

I nodded. "Good, I'm so ready to get fucked up tonight!"

The club was cool, there were 4 levels and the fourth floor was VIP to an already exclusive club.

I ordered myself an espresso martini and got y/n her favorite, a French martini. A club mix of Lana del Rey's blue jeans was playing, men and women's eyes were on my girl and I put my arm around her waist to end their starving stares.

She swiveled her hips provocatively and bounced up and down to the beat, I downed my drink and began to dance with her when she stopped. "Mouse, what is it?" I asked her using the special nickname I had just for her.

I looked her in direction, what rotten luck, it was Dalton, and he was grinding against one of the new Victoria's Secret models. "You know what he used to tell me all the time?" She asked in a monotone voice.

I grasped her hip, knowing I won't like the answer.

"I'm too big, my thighs are too jiggly, I have too many dimples, my arms aren't toned." She sounded casual when she said this but when I turned her around to face me the tears were pouring. I want to put his face in a fucking blender I swear. How the fuck could he say that shit to her? I clenched my jaw so tight I swear I was gonna break my teeth.

"He's worthless y/n, no I'm serious!" I snapped, causing her eyes to widen. "You look like a girl out of a 1960s playboy issue, the kind you'd find stashed away in your grandpa's bathroom. You're not only adorable and smart and funny, I mean you say shit like 'panic at the costco'!" She laughed through her tears. "You're also so supportive, and imaginative, you aren't afraid to show exactly how you feel, you breathe life into everyone you meet, you know more about dogs than anyone I know and you're hot as hell. He's not good enough for you and we're gonna show him that."

Her eyes widened. "Wait-you think I'm hot- what do you mean-"

I interrupted her stuttering and dragged her in the middle of the dance floor. A sexy song came on and I slid my hand up her soft thigh, her eyes widened but she let it happen pressing into me, as I gripped her thigh lifting it so she wrapped her leg half around me. I rolled my hips forward as if we were fuckin, her dress rose and her red painted lips fell open as her hand moved up my chest.

I bucked my hips and moved my body against her. She wiggled her hips nice and slow as she draped her arms over my shoulders, fingers sliding into my hair , our faces so close we were just a kiss away. It was hard. I was hard. And I knew she felt it. Because she grinded down on it and my nostrils flared. I looked over her shoulder and smirked at a glaring Dalton who pissed off his lingerie date. I mouthed 'fuck you' , and to my joy he looked livid.

I went back to enjoying y/n, she smells so good like sex and vanilla. I rubbed my nose lewdly on her neck. She turns her head to see her ex, remembering the purpose of this sex on the dance floor. "Timmy, he looks so mad do you see him?"

She looked back at me for a response and gasped at the intense look on my face instead. She stares at me with something akin to desire and realization, before leaning in closer.

I moved my mouth closer but remained far enough to let her decide her fate. And fuck she chose well. She pressed her mouth against mine and I could breathe again.

I lifted her a little and dragged her off the floor as I sucked her mouth and kissed it open. I slammed her against the wall between heated bodies and licked her mouth, she parted her lips and sucked on her tongue as grabbed her waist and her ass, pinning her with my body. We only stopped kissing so we could breathe.

Her pupils were dilated and my ringed thumb rubbed her lip. "Timmy, don't kiss me like that if you don't mean it. Don't ever do that again!"

Tears filled her eyes and she attempted to rub from me but I grabbed her hips. "Mouse, you better correct me if I'm wrong, are you saying–"

"I've always…it's always been you, but I thought…"

I laughed with relief. To risk sounding like a loser, this was like a dream. My best friend is like my ideal girl, we never argue, we like the same things, we complain about the same things, I hate and love everything with her. She wasted her time with polluting toxic wastes of human beings just to tell me now it's always been me.

"Fuck me slowly with a Chainsaw, was I really thay blind? I blame my obsession over you and not believing anything this great could happen. You're better than any dream which makes it scarier than any nightmare….when did you know?" I rambled, my hands couldn't stop roaming her body.

She sniffled with a smile. "It was that Gregg Araki film, Doom generation, and I didn't have my favorite candy, you ran out to get it for me. I had a crush on you but I fell in love with you at that moment, like I'm talking hoarding your socks and watching your saliva in your mouth as you drink Starbucks, kind of obsessive love."

I pulled her hand with me, I pushed people out of the way and into the bathroom and locked the door. I lifted her onto the sink and claimed her mouth with mine. "I'm so disgustingly in love with you, it's gross and filthy. I love you so much I fantasized about killing Dalton for hurting you and not appreciating you. I want to be your person, mouse." I was almost in tears and she cupped my face so gently. She kissed my eyes and nose. I kissed her mouth and tasted her tears. "I want to be gross with you." She whispered into the kiss.

"Let's go home." I sighed, kissing down her neck.

"Yours or mine?" She raked her nails through my curls, I could drool from how good it felt.

"Ours. Move in with me."

"Tim–"

"I told you I'm gross."

She tilted my head up and licked up my chin to my lips. "It's okay, I love gross. Disgust me please." She said softly before looking into my eyes.

I didn't hesitate, I'll never hesitate again.

#anon ask #anon request #timothee chamalet #timothée chalamet #timothee x reader

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sonosvegliato · 5 months

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you always rb fic recs but what’s YOUR favorite fic? one that you will reread forever?

*sweats* I know you just said one but I've been meaning to do this for ages, to contribute to the greater good of this fandom, but the problem is I go so far down the bookmark/history rabbit hole I get sucked in all over again. Me and my bookmarks are like a squirrel and its acorns; I save 'em up then forget about them and years later it's like I've been blessed with a flood of good fic food.

been a number and a name by WynterSky and everything else by them. I love this fic. I love this author. I feel lucky just to have stumbled upon any of their work---their 1990s Tim/Kon work lives in my heart and I'll highly suggest it to anyone to give it a shot, even if you're not a fan of ships or TimKon. My bookmark note: CREAMY ORANGE POPSICLE OF FICS TRY TRY TRY

The Power of Family and This Stalker I Found by JackHawksmoor. Bookmark note:

hands in my hair mcfreaking incredible can i learn to write adrenaline scenes like this is there a course where is that course also i need to learn how to bedazzle a sash for this author a sash of wow so everyone knows wow WOW if anyone goes through my bookmarks click this one click this one i promise your circadian will be so messed up but you will like it you will mcfreaking enjoy the blurry word at hour 2 you will drink from the fountain of wow i feel like i'm on a rollercoaster like legit like stomach in my ribcage throw up out of excitement and also fear i've never actually been on a big kid rollercoaster ahHHHHH pacing flipping tables i don't know man I DON'T KNOW this is without words this is beat my fists through the fourth wall fall into the fifth dimension into the white water rapids that's where the fountain of wow comes from

READ THIS FIC

Anything by Vamillepudding. I am not subscribed to many authors, mostly because I'm forgetful, but I did remember to subscribe to them---and whenever I get a little alert my heart goes rahrahrah. Extremely talented writer.

Anything by incogneat_oh. One of the first authors I ever read; I found them over PINTEREST over a screenshotted tumblr post. I had no idea who this Tim character was, but thus my life was changed forever. Story in particular was Just Like You, but I read everything---and they have LOTS. God bless.

Obedience by Sohotthateveryonedied. I read lots from them, but Obedience I read very early into my tumble into Batman and it just sort of floats into my head from time to time, the way some fics do.

The Next Life by spqr. Another one that floats around the brain. Bookmark note: STUPENDOUS

contemplate the beauty of the earth by downwithtyranny. I'm a bit biased on this one, but it's short and sweet and pleasantly different. And written by a very smart person who I know for a fact picks up roadkill off the side of the road and fixes them up nice and pretty for study (if you ever meet a real-life-not-a-medical-doctor-biologist, you're in for a treat). Bookmark note:

Human achievement at its finest 👏 👏👏

s c i e n c e r u l e s

And for the holiday season---only you will have stars that can laugh by silverwhittlingknife. Though I did go through all their works---SUPERB Dick characterization.

#batfam fic rec #batman fanfiction #mostly tim drake #dick grayson #and jason todd #I hope this helps someone the way fic recs always help me #feel free to rifle through my bookmarks #ao3 fanfic

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yeyinde · 1 year

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Lev!!! you cannot just post that masterpiece and dip. I cannot breathe. I'm grinning like a fucking baffon in my room and thank god it's sunday or else I sure would've call in sick. I'm not kidding. I have no self control and I would've read this at my workplace and God, I don't want to picture me squirming in my seat with a 60yr old woman sitting 2 feet away.

the way you write, smut or not, you include these tiny little details that people wouldn't notice, not even in real life, not even during that particular moment of ecstacy and somehow make it even more smuttier(?). it's never in and out with a grunt here and growl there with your works. it's a whole fucking experience and I have to have a mini freak out and mentally prepare myself before I read any of your work. your single fic is better than many published books I've read.

God, I would love to sit inside your brain and intercept every single one of your tho(ugh)t processes, analyze why you decided to put one particular word over another and such (also I was picturing Price on all fours until you mentioned that he was on his back. what's your thought process there?).

anyway, I'll rb your fic after I have an another proper meltdown so that I can get access to some coherent thoughts and the ability to string words together.

p.s:(I would very much like to deck that one editor that told me fanfic is not real writing and shove this masterpiece down their throat)

p.p.s: I get anxious when I send ask without anon ( don't know why) but I really wanted to send that pic cause that's what it looked like when you posted it.

p.p.p.s: (this is the last one promise) were you listening to purity ring when you wrote it? why that song? sorry for the long ass ask.

OMGGGGGGG for some reason, this does not show up on tumblr mobile - which is what I primarily use unless I'm posting a fic! So I am so so so sorry it took so long for me to reply!!

And AHHHHHH!! This is too much for me, honestly! You're way too nice about the rampant filth I write!!!! I had so many emotions reading this that I can't even begin to process ANY of them!! THANK YOU!!!

As for some of the questions posed:

With Price, I tried to be as true to his character (or the way I perceive his character) as I could be when I wrote this. I know it's just smut, and pegging smut at that!, but I like realism in whatever I read and since I usually write stuff that I like, I needed to include it. It had to make sense to me. I don't think Price would do this with just anyone, but if he mentioned it - he wants it. He was fairly confident through the whole thing, whereas MC was freaking out. I liked the contrast between their characters.

I don't think he'd be inclined to be on his knees for the first time. It would be something he needs to build up to before he gives up that aspect of himself. This was already quite a heavy experience, and so. It just made sense to me that he'd be on his back, with MC over him so he can watch their expressions, and take in the experience as it flickers over their face.

It's also infinitely more intimate, which is what - in Price's head - was the goal?? Like, it was a hot moment, but it was also fostering more trust, and taking a deeper plunge into their relationship. It delves into this a bit more at the end when MC finally has a moment to step away from "JESUS I AM "BALLS" DEEP INSIDE CAP PRICE RIGHT NOW" and look at things with a wider perspective.

It also gives him a modicum of control as well. Which, I think is the basal aspect of his character.

That's quite wordy for what this fic is, OMG. That's sort of what I volleyed back and forth in my head before writing this one.

And I was listening to Purity Ring!!! I rediscovered them through Letterkenny and this song is quite intense to me. The lyrics are just so PERFECT. All of my fics have connecting songs to them that either set the tone when I was writing or explore a different facet of what I want to convey through the lyrics. Usually, it's just atmosphere, but for Fineshrine - it was both!

Ahh, I get so nervous when stuff gets so wordy!!!!! Sorry for the spiel!

This was such a lovely message, and I am so gutted I only found it now. Thank you so much! It genuinely baffles me when people take an interest in my thoughts behind the smut, but this absolutely made my entire week. I will not stop thinking about this - I just know it. AHHHHHH. You're way too sweet!!!!

#OMGGGGG #gonna cry #gonna need #at MINIMUM #5-10 business days to let this one sink in #captain john price

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seoafin · 1 year

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where to begin!!!! im in my stsg phase again and youre like 1 of the 3 authors who wrote my favorite stsg stories and i had to go back and reread them for the 1000th time and i refreshed ao3 and surprise surprise!! you have a new series and i nearly screamed … anyways not to sound obsessed but i literally refresh the stsg reader tag 24/7 thinking only of your series like ive never caught up with a fic series that quick… but i’m just so glad your wonderful brain is conjuring up another Amazing soul crushing series involving those two gremlims ahhhhhh

and let me just say ive been scrolling through your blog + tags abt stsg and just literally obsessed!!! nothing else is on my mind besides your writing its so bad!!! plus i discovered you wrote a previous fic that i Absolutely LOVED but never found but i shouldve known bc the writing was just soo impeccably Amazing and so you (its the only where nobara goes to lengths trying to get answers of readers relationship w stsg..) (actually the best fic ever like id die on this hill defending its glory and how much more side stories can come out of it..plus megumi’s protective personality around reader makes me squeal!!!) (pls protect reader from stsg’s annoying asses omfg)

anyways your characterization is just perfect i cant put into words… and now that i’ve found you have a tumblr where you answer questions regarding your characters and about your stories .. like that is not healthy for me!!!i swear ive got so many questions whether its about the trio, poly relationship and how the dynamics work and side scenarios where i feel worth mentioning like!!! can i just mention how happy i am to discover your tumblr to share with you how much i adore your writing and i hope to share with you my own thoughts abt your amazing craft!!!! GAWDDD (also can i rec you one of my other fav stsg story from this really awesome author too? id really like my favorite writer to read one of my favorite pieces to get your thoughts on it bc i love it so much)

- 3 (name for inbox hehe)

omgggg i am soooo flattered wtf 😭😭😭 the encouragement i've been getting on ddao is crazy hopefully i do not disappoint!!! i know people don't really like miscommunication but I do. i love me some good seemingly one sided pining. i love when men pine. i think men should pine more. that being said thank you so much for your kind words <33333 and as for recs, you can always rec me something but i can't make any promises that i'll read it since i like to read fics on my own time (when i have time) but i can always keep it in mind!

#also ive been meaning to rewrite that fic for so long LMAO #i never posted it on ao3 for a reason so i am pleasantly surprised you enjoy it!!!!#giving u a BIGGGGG kiss your ask made my day!#im sorry im grinning like a maniac rn KIS KISS #3 anon #ddao.fb

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glompcat · 2 years

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Jo/3

ALT

I love the story these two had on TV so much, exactly as it was ahhhhhh Just... the idea of two people who are soooo close to being right for each other, yet being incompatible in the lifestyle they want to lead - despite it being SO CLOSE, just sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo impossibly close to ideal and yet not.

Three meets Jo while trapped on Earth - and at the exact moment when the Master shows up on Earth to make trouble for him. The two of them become a team specifically fighting the Master's many schemes on Earth, and during that entire time the Doctor is beyond distracted by both the Master and his angst over being trapped on Earth, and Jo is steadily falling in love with the Doctor - who defends the Earth during her time.

When the Doctor gets the ability to travel back, Jo is clear from the start that she really isn't in it to go places. She doesn't want to leave the Earth for long, she wants to fight to defend the home she has when she has it. However she is in love with the Doctor and he wants to travel - and travel with her - so off they go. It is clear throughout that she would rather return to how things were before the Doctor got his freedom back, and views these trips as passing diversions and not something she wants to invest the majority of her time and energy into.

Which is so fascinating as a dynamic before you even add the element of the intentionally constructed to be a human version of the Doctor character to it all.

They want each other, but neither of them want the life the other leads. Both have given it a try, they know this for a fact. Three does NOT want to be stuck on Earth in the 70s and Jo does NOT want to be traveling through time and space.

So then you have the delicious resolution of Jo meeting a Nobel Prize winning scientist who is as eccentric as can be and fighting to defend the Earth. He's a hippie living in a commune named the Nut Hut and is doing research on mushrooms in the hopes of creating a meat substitute so good the whole planet goes vegan. He leads protests outside polluting businesses and plans to travel the world protesting logging companies. He is (and Katy Manning has said this was very much the key to his construction as a character) the Doctor if the Doctor was a human man around Jo's age. He can offer her the thing the Doctor never could, which isn't a human lifespan or the ability to have human kids or anything like that but rather the thing she literally says she wants most time and time again over the course of her run - a focus on defending the planet Jo calls home at the time she calls home. He isn't going to dash off to another time or planet, and that is the thing Jo desires most.

She still travels of course, never in one place for long, always on the move to the next protest, but she never abandons the fight she cares about most - defending planet Earth in the moment of time her friends and family inhabit.

The true tragedy of course was Jo didn't think that being with Cliff would be a goodbye to the Doctor (who she was still in love with but understood had a lifestyle that was incompatible with her own). Understanding the Doctor could never be in one time or place for long she asks him to visit her, he promises that he will... and she doesn't see him again until she encounters Eleven at his funeral in 2010. She didn't think it was goodbye, but for Three this revelation that he could not give Jo what she needed, that the thing that was hurting him most (being trapped on Earth) was the key to making their relationship successful was far too painful and made him slink out of her engagement party without a proper goodbye to her and never return.

Ugh, what a good character journey, for both of them.

#Doctor Who #classic who #jo grant #third doctor

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littlemisslol-fic · 2 years

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I know you already finished Silent Opera, but I started it a few days ago and it's so good! I constantly want to stab Landis, Hugo's character is so good and I already love Varian but this makes me love him even more and dgfrhbfghfguh

You write so well and I wish I wrote this well and ffxghjbfdrgx

Anyway sorry for bothering you with this I just wanted to let you know

-🧪

hey hey!!

thank you so much dude!! 💕💕 Trust me time is no factor when it comes to me wanting to talk about my AUs dsjfgdjfg I'll be 80 in the retirement home like "OKAY BUT THE LORE IS--"

jjdfg ahhhhhh thanks man!! I'm really happy that so many people absolutely HATE Landis, mostly because that means I did my job! I wanted him to feel like part of the universe, even if he's an antagonist. I'd say it worked, if so many people latched onto him the way they have (with promised violence lmao)! And ahhhh thank you man!! I love writing Hugo so much, I really do find him so fascinating as a character. Like I love Varian too don't get me wrong but Hugo has so many layers all working on top of each other that I just LOVE getting my grubby little mitts in there and prying them apart 😂

🥺🥺 ahhhhh aw thank you dude!! I can 100% that my whole *deal* is a mix of stubbornness and practice, so if I can do it anyone can 😂😂 just keep trucking!

It's never a bother! Thanks for taking time out of your day to let me know what you thought of my fic! I really appreciate it! 💕💕

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summersareknives · 1 year

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IM BACK! okay lets see. favourite colour...prob green. maybe blue. sometimes purple. it changes a lot but rn its green lol. and im a scorpio! my bday is on halloween so i like to imagine that if i lived in the marauders era i would share my bday party with sirius🫶 fav marauders era girl.... that is such a tough one. i adore them all so very much, but id have to say either marlene or pandora. fav tv show....hm... i used to be a supernatural fan (derogatory) but the past is (thankfully) behind me. i love arcane & the umbrella academy, and also what we do in the shadows! OH and our flag means death. gay pirates are apparently my kryptonite. and the bowie lyric is "turn and face the strange" from changes! (every time i look at it it makes me think of remus in atyd with the wolves and makes me giggle fr)

and ty again for the fic rec <3 ill give u one in return: of pinstripes and potions by pansysnarkinson (jegulus forced proximity in the hospital wing, but the author is currently writing a rework here which is also very good)

now for old times sake i simply have to give more taylor songs to do: dont blame me, long story short, and so it goes🌟

okay now your turn. whats your zodiac sign? fav colour? fav tv show? fav marauders era girl? fav marauders era ship? (i know i could never pick just one but wolfstar, dorlene, and jegulus have my heart) OH and from that ask game you reblogged the other day! 20, 25, 29!

-bee

bee bee bee hello hello i love u <333

i so feel you on that favourite colour keeps changing thing . because SAME. there are so many good colours how am I to choose ???

and a halloween birthday ??? dude u got born on the day lily & james got done in by voldemort. but that’s such a cool bday honestly.

marlene & pandora is a vv good choice i love both of them with all my heart and soul.

now the tv shows -

i haven’t watched any of the ones you speak of , unfortunately. I consider myself more of a ‘comedy/chill’ girl & stuff like supernatural and umbrella academy looks like it’d stress me out.

HOWEVER . ‘gay pirates’ sounds very interesting , and i’m going to be checking that out for sure.

turn and face the strange ??? on god that’s such a good line , honestly. you’re fucking awesome and AHHHHHH. (in my head remus would love that tattoo)

i wanted a tattoo of something nice. my frontrunner is a lyric from ‘you’re my best friend’ by queen (very nice and niche i love them & this song.. here r the frontrunners for the lyrics -

me - ‘whatever this world can give to me’ // my best friend -‘it’s you , you’re all i see’

me -‘in rain or shine’ // him -‘you stood by me girl’

and one option is from ‘little freak’ by hs - me - ‘little freak’ // him - ‘jezebel.’

(upon writing this it sounds very cringe so i’ll say it would be on our foot or some concealed place. and also that this is a joke. i just want a symbol)

but i cannot convince him to do this. he’s way too fucking scared. I reckon i’ll be able to convince him soon enough , though ( if i promise him mcdonald’s hasbrowns for long enough ) maybe we’ll do our constellations , if he’s too scared of lyrics. or our birth month flowers maybe ?? something , for sure.

vis a vis fic recs - I’VE READ OF PIN STRIPES AND POTIONS. I’ve been there since the author was still on chapter seven , i’m a big fan of their writing . it’s so so so good i loved it literally so so much :))))

NOW FOR OLD TIME’S SAKE -

don’t blame me - JEGULUS - now , i’m veering a little about of canon. for me (in doa especially) either of them would go CRAZY for the other one. like fuckin tip the world apart if anyone ever did something to the other , you feel me ? and and , in doa , i have 3 don’t blame me moments planned (one is jegulus, one is wolfstar , one is rosekiller.) highly likely we’ll get a dorlene one , if i find a place to fit it in.

long story short - JEGULUS & ROSEKILLER - now , in canon , i think the line ‘i tried to pick my battles till the battle picked me’ is very regulus (& my boy hjp , but i digress) like can u imagine reg being like ‘yes james i choose u’ and then his parents imperiusing him until he takes the dark mark ??? my heart broken. ‘you passed right by’ james ignoring him after they broke up. my heart is so sad atm. it’s rosekiller (especially in the context of doa) because of the line ‘long story short it was the wrong guy , now i’m all about you’ , and this is vv much barty to evan . like so so much this line , it’s just HIM.

so it goes - JEGULUS - first of all , this is a criminally underrated song. i love it and no one ever talks about this one. Second , jegulus because ‘gold cage , hostage to my feelings’ - james is the gold cage , regulus not wanting to feel those things for him BUT HE DOES HE DOES. this song is so sexy honestly truly .

fic rec time - ‘don’t blame me, love made me crazy’ by coupe_de_foudre’ - (one shot ft secret dating jegulus , james has a quidditch accident , vv cute oneshot i love it.)

now to answer questions -

zodiac sign - pisces. i notice you’re a scorpio. very sirius and remus of us .

favourite colour - like u , it keeps changing. right now it’s pink , but a while ago it was yellow. but for now , pink. i love this colour so much , very dear to me.

fave tv show - F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Without a doubt, this show is like a cup of hot chocolate for me. always soothes me and makes me laugh. i also love himym (fuck the ending , barney+robin 5ever) & b99 .

fave marauder era girl - lily evans. hands down , no competition. she birthed the wizarding saviour , she schooled severus snape , she is the moment , she is everything. love her.

favourite marauder era ship - i simply cannot choose. i cannot and will not choose. my top four , however are (in no particular order) - wolfstar (the ogs) , jegulus ( best friends brother is the one for me) , dorlene ( enemies to lovers lesbians) , jily (parents) .

ask game -

20. tangled. no doubt. i loved it so much when it came out that i bought the blonde wig and everything. had a doll. BUT. Tiana (the princess and the frog??) is a close second.

25. yes , stellar taste. taylor swift , queen , bowie , hozier & 1D. amazing taste.

29. fusilli. the curly just does something to me .

now now now. for ur next ask i give u more questions to answer -

have u ever seen a moose ? (always wanted to ask a canadian this )

is it like minus a billion degrees all the time up there ??

what’s your favourite fic of all time? like all time. ( or top 5)

favourite golden trio era ship ?

do you write fic ? (if yes , where can i find it pls and thank you)

tea or coffee ?

go to outfit ?

how many piercings ?

& what course do u take / what’s your desired career path / what’s your favourite subject?

and a fun fact about you !

(bee feel free to give me more taylor songs to do. ‘tis our tradition , after all.)

#ess water a plant #bee <33 #ess’s marauders x ts crossover

0 notes

au-starss · 2 years

Note

AHHHHHH IM SO IN LOVE WITH YOUR LATEST AYATO x FLORIST!READER FIC 8RUGIBHDSFDKNJMSD if it's not too much to ask, may i request a second part or a sequel to that? wherein ayato proposes to them and just AHHHGYSUDBCHXNSDXZ

‘𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲..’ 𝗽𝘁. 𝟮

𝗔𝘆𝗮𝘁𝗼 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗻𝗲𝘂𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗹

𝗔𝘆𝗮𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗻𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗳𝗹𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁

—

𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲! 𝗯𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝘆𝗮𝘁𝗼. 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗹𝘆

𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗯𝗶𝗼 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀

𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝘁. 𝟭 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲

“Can you please just tell me where we’re going? Please!” You ask once again. Ayato only laughs and continues to guide you.

“Patience, my darling.” He says softly, holding your hand to lead you down a hill. “We’re almost there. I promise.”

It all started when Ayato came out, asking if you wanted to go somewhere with him. When you asked where though, he responded with “it’s a surprise”.

That’s what led you to here. Being led by your lover in what seemed to be a forest, eyes completely covered.

After a few more minutes of walking blinded, Ayato finally stops you. “Alright, we have arrived. Are you ready?”

You nod your head and Ayato removes his hands. Looking out, you see an array of some flowers that no one has seen for so long. There were ones from Sumeru and Mondstadt. So many local specialties that would all take months to import.

“Oh my- Ayato, how long did this take you?!” You asked, bending down to admire the Cecilias next to you.

“It wasn’t easy.” He admitted, kneeling next to you. “Finding this spot, getting the flowers, other arrangements. But..”

He brought a finger to your chin, lifting your head to look at the sky. Up above, the trees cleared way to show the beautiful night sky. Stars aligned all over while casting a powerful glow onto the flowers.

You couldn’t help but smile as you stood to look at the scene better. Your eyes gleamed against the shine of the stars, a scene Ayato found so attractive. It was all so beautiful. And your chest continued to warm at how much thought Ayato put into this beautiful moment.

He truly was one of a kind.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” You whispered, not realizing your lover was still kneeled down.

Ayato smiled up at you. “There is, one more surprise for you, my love.” He spoke. He took your hand, turning you to face him.

Looking at the man below you, you see a new look gleam in his eyes. “[Name], I know being with me isn’t the easiest task, with my enemies and daily affairs and work loads, but I’m forever grateful you gave me a chance. I love you so dearly. As for your surprise..”

His hand slowly reaches to his back pocket, carefully pulling out a small blue box. Your eyes widened when he opened the box, revealing a gorgeous ring.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured by this decision. We won’t be in any rush to get married. We’ll do stuff on our own time. Everything will be for us. [Name], my darling, will you marry me?”

An overwhelming feeling of happiness overtook you. You will never forget the smile Ayato provided, the reassurance he gave in this moment. He was everything you could want and more.

“I will most definitely marry you.” You tell him, your hands moving to cup his face.

His eyes show shock for a moment, before they show adoration. He stands in front of you, and pulls you in to gently kiss you.

The whole scene seemed like it was out of a movie. Kissing under the stars as an engaged couple, surrounded by gorgeous flowers. The two of you holding one another close, afraid to even try and let go.

“[Name] Kamisato.. I love the sound of that.” Ayato whispered after the two of you parted. You give him a laugh in return.

“It is a little catchy.”

Ayato takes the ring from it’s box, carefully sliding it on your finger. It flowed beautifully in the moonlight. Neither of you could stop smiling. It seemed like an euphoric dream.

And it was happening. The two of you were gonna get married. A lasting bond of eternity, as if you already promised each other that.

𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶 𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 :)

𝗖𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗯𝗶𝗼 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #ayato kamisato #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Of Kings and Beasts - Sixteen (Final)

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Fluff,

Word Count: 2.3K

A/n: Everything is ending and idk what to do with myself now AHHHHHH ENJOY THE GRAND FINALE

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! 18+!!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

You cross your arms tightly over your chest, glaring at the trickster while your husbands stand on either side of you.

This is the power trio that was spoken of when the Kings announced their marriage.

This is what was pictured.

A woman, equally fierce as them, yet able to tame the wild beasts roaring inside their chests.

It took some coaxing, but now that woman stands strong and tall in place of the timid girl who used to take up this space.

“Well, isn’t this a sight. Never in all my years did I think you would be reunited.”

Loki’s voice is slightly strained but just as venomous as ever.

“I did a good job, you must admit. And I would’ve gotten away with it too, but I underestimated you, (Y/n).” You take a step forward, tugging away when both your husbands reach for you.

“You will address me properly or not at all.”

He only grins up at you.

“Who’s the traitor? The one you had working here? The one who attempted to have me killed?”

Steve and James both stand behind you, watching in surprise as you conduct the interrogation with just as much certainty as they would’ve, if not more.

“I already told you, your counsel was weak. There were many who didn’t agree with the choices of the Kings. Even more who didn’t trust Orlen to provide a proper Queen. I guess they were right, weren’t they? Orlen didn’t provide a Nobel princess the way they promised. No, instead, the great Kings of the West were gifted nothing more than a bastard!”

Steve steps forward, ready to defend your honour, but you hold up a hand.

“How were you able to alter James the way you did? How did you get close enough to physically alter him?”

He huffs out a breath and grins at the brunet wickedly.

“Ah, I almost forgot about that. How is your... condition, your majesty? Better, I trust? It must be, now that Doctor Banner can no longer continue his experiments.”

Your brows draw together in confusion, as do Steves, but it makes sense to James.

Doctor Banner is the only one they would trust enough. The only person he trusted. And every time he'd go to see the doctor, his ‘condition’ would get worse.

“Ah yes, you realize it, don’t you? You see what happened. Doctor Banner is a good man. A trustworthy one. But his mind is weak, unprotected. Easily distracted. It took nothing to make him do my bidding. But with the... snow incident,” he gives you a look, “I couldn't be near the Palace without raising suspicion. My hold on his mind gradually weakened until he was in control again. And when that happened... well, I couldn’t just let him live.”

You shake your head in disgust.

“All this pain... this death... You killed your own brother just-”

“He’s not my brother!” He shouts, glaring daggers at you from his bound place on the floor.

His chest heaves with anger.

“He was never a brother to me! I was nothing more than a conquest! A trophy of a war that my side could never have won! I was a shadow. Living in the shade of his greatness. Forever. Another stolen relic to show just how strong his Kingdom is until he needs to pawn me off, the same way you were.”

His voice sounds so broken. So fragile and small. But you stay strong and stand your ground. He killed one of your only friends. His sob story won’t change your mind.

“They took me from my home, stole me, just to tell their children horror stories of the monsters that were my people! They made me believe I was cursed, that I was a monster because I was different. Because different blood ran through my veins.”

“I never wanted the throne. Not at first. All I wanted was to be seen. To be recognized as his equal. But no matter what I did I could never compare. Nothing I did would ever be good enough! Nothing! Do you know how that feels? To never be enough for anybody?”

His words reopen wounds that you never properly tended to, and you nod.

“You forget, Loki, that I do. Better than most.”

The Kings bristle at your words, taken aback by the tenderness in your tone as you kneel before the prisoner. The traitor. The murderer.

But there’s compassion in your heart that knows no bounds.

“There has never been a time in my life where I have been enough. My existence was enough for my father to hate me, have my mother killed. I have been mistreated with every turn, yet I arose stronger. I became more than a shadow.”

His eyes are so full of tears as he looks up at you, and your heart truly goes out to him. But that doesn’t change what he did.

“You had a chance at redemption. The possibility of a lesser punishment. But you refused. Now, the King is dead at your hands. You’ve committed multiple acts of treason, but you will be punished in Asgard for your crimes.”

You push yourself to your feet and look over your shoulder at James.

“How is Doctor Banner? We’ll need him to confirm or deny Loki’s story.”

The trickster only scoffs.

“My fate is sealed. What benefit would lying have?”

You ignore his comment and motion to the door, leading the way up the spiral staircase that only a few months ago terrified you.

“He’s still recovering, but he should be able to speak.” You nod, turning to look at Steve as you finally enter the warmth of the hallway, far enough away that Loki can’t hear nor influence you.

“Loki’s powers over the minds of your people will end with him. Any traitors within the country will be flushed out. I’m sure there are many who are skeptical about Orlen’s willingness to hand me over and the truth of it is that I am a bastard, which is why it was so easy for him to give me away.”

There have been many secrets within your marriage, but now it’s all out in the open and there's no room to hide.

Steve takes your hand gently and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“Whatever you were in your past doesn’t matter. What matters is who you are now. Who you decide to be. And I hope that you decide to be our wife.”

You smile up at him then over at James, who only nods his agreement and places a gentle kiss onto your cheek.

“We have not been kind nor fair, but we do truly love you, (Y/n). You are everything we’ve ever wanted and so much more.”

“I love you both as well. There are many issues within our marriage, but at the end of the day you are my husbands and I love you. Nothing will change that.”

You cast your eyes down, your mind travelling to Thor.

“I’m going to Asgard. To be there for the funeral, for the trial. Thor... gave his life for me. I will not sit here and twiddle my thumbs.”

The two exchange small smiles and James nods.

“We know. A horse is being prepared as we speak. You’ll ride ahead to help prepare the funeral. We’ll be only a day behind with the prisoner.”

Your heart fills with warmth.

Although they haven’t always been kind, this is a step in the right direction.

A direction towards something better. Something good.

~*~

The funeral is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.

It’s regal and elegant and so very beautiful.

His body is surrounded by different herbs, flowers, and other gifts given by the people, and his sword is in his hands laying on his chest.

He floats in a small boat down the river towards the waterfall, the sunset illuminating the night only just.

An archer lights an arrow then shoots, and his boat is quickly engulfed in the orange glow.

Only moments later, several other boats become lit, holding the bodies of the fallen warriors who fought in an unnecessary battle.

Tears fall silently down your cheeks as you watch Thor’s boat slowly drift over the edge of the waterfall, disappearing out of sight.

Two warm hands find your back, one belonging to each of your husbands as they comfort you silently.

Slowly, the sky lights up with lanterns being raised in both memory and mourning of the King, much like your people did for you when you were presumed dead.

Lanterns fill the sky far and wide, mimicking stars, and in the solitude of his cell, Loki cries for his brother.

Cries for the only semblance of family he’s ever had, now ripped from him by his own doing. His own selfish goal.

But come morning, it won’t matter for him.

The lights glow in the sky for hours, and even after they’ve faded from sight, you don’t move from your spot on the balcony.

Your time with the blond king wasn’t the most enjoyable, but it started with him being a friend. One of the first people in either Kingdom that you could truly trust.

And now he’s gone.

Your heart weighs heavily with the loss of your friend, and you stay standing by the balcony, overlooking his beautiful kingdom.

“He wouldn’t want you to mourn so, Your Majesty.”

You turn as Brunnhild walks in, draping a thick cape over your shoulders.

“It’s hard not to,” you whisper.

She nods, taking a stance next to you and huffing out a sigh, her breath crystallizing in the cool air of the night.

“Asgard has no heir. No one to take the King’s place. What will happen?”

She's quiet for a long moment before looking over at you.

“He does have someone. He chose someone. He chose you.”

Your heart skips a beat as you turn to look at her.

“Me? But why? And when?” She smiles softly.

“Twice, he did. When he made you his wife, and again in battle. He decided that you were to be queen. The title is yours, as is the Kingdom, if you should want it.”

Shock settles inside your gut beside the despair, and you ponder this for a long moment.

You? Queen of your own kingdom?

The bastard of Orlen. The shunned princess. The wife with no place.

All your life you’ve longed for a place where you belong. A place of your own.

Never did you think it would be offered to you in the form of an entire kingdom.

“I... I’ll need to give it some thought,” you admit softly. She only nods, straightening up.

“The decision is yours. The Valkyrie will support you no matter what it is that you choose. Remember that.” You nod, and then you’re alone again, though not for long.

“Are you alright, darling?” You only hum, your eyes focused on the moon rising high in the sky.

“I will be.”

Steve and James come up beside you, Steve resting his arms on the rail while James leans against it and gazes at you.

“Loki is to be executed in the morning. You... you don’t need to be there if you don’t want to.”

You do. You want to be there and watch as he finally gets what’s coming to him.

After all the pain he's inflicted, death is something far kinder than he deserves.

But Thor would not wish him to suffer, so he shan’t suffer.

“I’m going to be there.”

The two nod, respecting your decision.

“Come to bed, (Y/n). You need sleep.”

You let out a soft breath then nod, following the two of them to bed.

They hold you tightly, gluing your broken pieces back together and making you whole again.

For the first time in so long, you’re finally whole.

~*~

“Your Majesty, they’ve arrived.”

You look up from the document on your desk, smiling brightly at Wanda then following her to the throne room.

Sure enough, there they are, standing tall and regal in the colours of Acadia.

“Your Majesty,” they greet, both bowing deeply.

You roll your eyes, walking up to both of them and giving them each a soft kiss.

“I've missed you. The summer has been long.” They nod, Steve’s eyes dropping down.

“You’re absolutely glowing, darling.”

James nods his agreement, putting his flesh hand atop your bump.

“Soon enough we’ll get to meet our heir. Whomever they may be.” He presses a kiss to your stomach then smiles up at you.

“What you’ve done with the kingdom has been... incredible. Thor would be proud, (Y/n). I just know it.”

The mention of your friend has your heart aching, but you smile despite the pain.

“Thank you.”

You like to think that Thor’s been guiding you, supporting you and helping you through the stresses of ruling a country.

It’s far harder than you thought, but having a place in the world... after never having a place. It’s worth it.

And the distance has only made your relationship with the Kings flourish.

The two great Kings of the West and their Queen, rulers of the continent.

The two beasts and the one woman who can tame them.

Fin

#royal!au #bucky x reader royal au #stucky x reader royal au #Dark Royal AU #king!bucky #king!steve x reader #king!bucky/reader #king!steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader dark au #steve x reader dark fic #stucky x reader dark fic #bucky x reader dark fic #Steve rogers x reader dark fic #bucky barnes/reader #Stucky/reader #stucky x reader au

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cinnamonest · 3 years

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I am loving all these "Bitter Albedo getting revenge and doing as he wants with the reader"— but also, equally as bitter Creator! Reader growing resentful towards Albedo and wanting to do to him what he's done to her, or even _worse_. Anything to take him out of her life, so she half bakes a plan to "finetune" later, first starting off by building up some trust to get on Albedo's good side, she "gives in", plays nice and gets to work on alchemy with him.

She follows this routine, playing the loving glorified "housepet". But all the while, she's been fine-tuning her escape plan. It would either put him in an equal disadvantage to him, or it might kill her. At this point, either outcome would be mercy. She tells him there's still things from the Art of Khemia she hadn't taught him.

Things she'd learned in her travels while experimenting, not long after they'd gone their separate ways.

It starts out with gathering ingredients for tamer recipes, and just like she'd promised

New techniques, new creations and new knowledge was gained.

She makes him believe that she's adapting to his existence, maybe even tolerating him, but he didn't expect for her to only grow more and more bitter as time went on. The only thing growing in her heart was the resentment she harbored for him, any sort of admiration or genuine adoration she held for her creation all but crushed. She wanted nothing of him ever again, he had gone too far, miscalculated even, in his theory that reluctant "love" would follow his treatment.

Over the course of a few weeks, she has him carefully wrapped around his finger, unknown to him that she would show him just how much mercy she showed him when she sent him his own separate way. He was suspicious at first, of course, but in his moment of weakness, in his need for the approval she had been "showering" him in, he pushes the thoughts aside when he sees that her claims seem to be "valid enough".

He follows her instructions, and each time he gains new information on old, or even lost, techniques. Raging from little things she'd kept to herself so that he wouldn't have to interact with him when they worked together, To combinations only a mad woman who's challenged nature would dare think up.

and one day, she's telling him that she thinks he's ready to try the last thing she had managed to research on her own. He mixes the ingredients according to her instructions, everything seems to be going fine until he adds the last thing— and it's immediately reacted in a messy blast.

Albedo finds himself blinded by the fallout, as well as finding a surprising lack of digits on where his hands should be. His ears are ringing, obviously, such a blast would deafen anyone.

It's the creator's way of getting her own vengeance for the position he's put her in, at least this way, maybe, _maybe_, she can have a chance to finally put her failed created behind her. After all, he was always her most _disappointing_ creation.

AHHHHHH anon that took me aback at the last bit I was not expecting that. Poor little thing, how could master be so cruel...?

After the obvious resulting chaos (and agony), he'd be quiet for a long time. He ties you to the bed with what's left of his hands, having to use his mouth to tie the knot, and... leaves. Usually he's good about leaving you food when he goes out for the day, but not this time. He doesn't say a word as he leaves, even if you call out to him.

And he's gone for several days. You're starving, but even when he comes back, he doesn't say a word at first. Doesn't acknowledge your presence, no matter how many times you call out to him. It goes on like that for hours until eventually, without prompting, after you've given up calling for him, he just simply states a few thoughts.

He was... too kind. He understands that now. You didn't deserve it. You didn't appreciate it properly. So now, you will earn your way back to the way things were.

For starters, he takes the legs off at the scar. No real reason other than to hurt you. To see your horror when you fully wake up, pain, having to adjust. He pulls the same shit where he makes you beg for anesthetic and painkiller, but it's infinitely more painful this time. He keeps you just a little bit awake for the whole thing, even if you beg enough to be given some anesthetic during the procedure.

And after that, he stops talking to you. For good.

He himself is learning to adjust, having been given a prosthetics for fingers (literally Fullmetal Alchemist lmao) that he can make do with. You can learn how to adjust, too. Having *no* legs is actually different than just having numb ones, and learning to live without them is harder than you thought it would be -- your center of gravity and sense of balance changes, you have to avoid certain positions or risk a sharp shooting pain, etc. But even when you stumble and fall, and call out for help... nothing happens. You have to fix it on your own, or, if stuck too far to move, wait until he comes by up to hours later and silently sets you upright. If you call out in what sounds like high distress, he might come running over to make sure you're not in immediate danger, but after looking you up and down and ascertaining you're just uncomfortable and/or stuck, he slowly turns back, deciding he'll help you when he feels like it later.

You don't eat together anymore. He feeds you in a bowl on the ground. The first time, you turn your nose up and fold your arms in disgust... even though you haven't eaten the entire time he was gone. You're just that stubborn. No matter. Eventually, you cave, maybe the second day, maybe the third or fourth. He doesn't say anything the whole time, just takes the food when you make it clear you won't eat it, and puts it out each night, until you give in.

You sleep on the floor. Chained by the neck to the bedpost. You understand the message without needing to be asked out loud. You hated him so much, didn't you? You'd much rather be on the cold, hard floor than in bed, since he's in it, wouldn't you? Since you hate him so much?

And still, he doesn't talk. Somehow, that hurts the most. He was never very talkative, but he'd comment every now and then, ask you for your thoughts on something, but he now acts like you're not even there. No matter how many times you call out to him, he acts like he doesn't hear it.

It goes on like that for a month or so until you finally break down. Latch onto his leg and sob and plead. You feel like you're going insane, you say. You just want him to acknowledge you exist again.

...But why should he, he asks? It's the first thing he's said to you since the leg removal. He won't turn his head or eyes to look at you. What does he get from talking to you? You were so mean. For the few months leading up to the incident, you were so, so, so mean. He tried to be nice and get you adjusted, and you fought him every step (well... not that you were taking many literal steps) of the way. Remember? You were mean from the moment you woke up then. And then, when you were finally nice -- when he trusted you -- you went and did what you did. What reason does he have to acknowledge you? You'll either be mean to him or plot against him again. And that's all he's willing to say.

A few more weeks. A few more breakdowns. You know the intention -- he wants to truly, completely break you in a way that he never could when he was showing you any kindness. And, you hate it, but it's working. You find yourself begging. Sobbing. Rocking back and forth and clinging to his legs. Utterly pathetic, pitiful, humiliating displays of neediness and weakness. It breaks you down until he finally deems you complete, and one day finally makes eye contact with you for the first time in months.

There's not much left of "you" per se, though. The nasty attitude you had back before is almost completely gone. You're finally happy when he talks to you -- something that, after so many months of going insane from silence, you consider a privilege. After so many breakdowns and humiliation, you don't have much pride left to get in the way of begging, no shame about anything you do. It's perfect.

Not that it doesn't come back, sometimes. Sometimes, when you're having good days, you get a bit too comfortable, you forget what a privilege it is to be like this together, and you almost get mean again. But it's fairly easy to shut down with a very specific look that shuts you up immediately.

Oh, and he finds a way to fix himself, in the end. Being an artificial creation, he has a different compositional makeup than a person, so there are... ways to adjust and repair the body he has. In fact, he might even find one that would work on even an organic human, a miracle regenerative formula.

Not that he'd give it to you. But he makes sure to tell you all about it, showing off just how perfectly it regenerated his hands... just to see the look on your face.

#tw: violence #lena's asks #q #.al #.creator

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