#but to peter it's “do i look like you? the other you too?” | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jeonjaemark · 3 days ago

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the one i’ve been missing || chwe hansol

content warning: none || masterlist

“thank you ma’am. i hope you enjoy the rest of your day.” the waitress smirks, handing me back my card and receipt for my check.

“thank you. i hope you have a good day too.” i return her smile and push my seat out heading towards the exit.

i turn the corner reaching the elevators. a small group of people scurry off the platform as a woman holds it open for me. press the level i needed to reach when i heard a deep voice.

“hey! wait! hold the elevator!”

the elevator start to close its doors but i quickly hit the button to remain open. a guy dressed in a white tee, a pair of jeans and converse with his baseball cap and headphones walked in. he shoots me a quick thank you for before putting on his zipped up jacket.

i look up from my phone when i smell a familiar citrus and woodsy scent.

“vernon?” i raised an eyebrow.

“y-yeah.” he stared at me as if i invaded his personal space. “y/n? w-what are you doing here?”

“i came here for a lunch date with myself. you?”

“there is a record shop just a few doors down from the restaurant.”

“it’s been a while since i last saw you. is everything

“some things have been different. you know touring the world and all with twelve other dudes.”

“so you’re still in a long committed relationship with those twelve other dudes and doing what you love.” i chuckled.

“y-yeah.” he half laughs. “what about you? i can’t remember the last time i saw you.”

“i have been traveling around. it’s time consuming being

“this is my floor. i’d love to see you again and the guys. that’s if they’re in town with you too.”

“yeah, we have a few days off. uhmm, how about we hang out tomorrow?”

i nod agreeing as vernon steps out of the elevator. “okay, just text me the details to your place and i will be around maybe noon.”

————————

“you have to joking! that is not the best christmas movie!” vernon spat, taking another slice of pizza from the table.

i clutch my chest as if to gasped for air, “get out of my house! you will not slander my favorite christmas movie of all time.”

“y/n, the princess switch doesn’t have much of a plot. home alone has a plot and it’s the best christmas movie. even elf has a better plot line than the princess switch.”

“i am suddenly realizing why we lost touch all these years.”

“what’s the princess switch?”

vernon face palms his forehead sliding down the couch dramatically. i scoff as his actions but ignored him to answer the question. vernon can pretend all he wants that he despises the princess switch but i know he secretly likes watching it with me.

“nonie! i am fine. we don’t have to do anything. it’s whatever, kai went to the winter dance with vivienne and they will live happily ever after.”

“just forget the dance. he’s not worth your time anyways. we can watch all three princess switch movies at my house.” his voice soft and warm trying to cheer me up.

“you hate this movie.” i whined.

“yeah, but i hate seeing you sad even more. c’mon, i have a bag of kettle corn with your name on it.”

“you are willing to suffer through three movies to make me feel better?”

“that’s what best friends are for, right?”

i chuckle reaching up to hug. he instantly wraps his arms around me giggling.

———

“if fiona and peter don’t end up together then i will riot.” seokmin mumbles to josh.

i chuckle to myself sideyeing him and turn my attention to vernon. his body slouched down into the couch while hugging a pillow. his eyes laser focused on the tv screen and the corners of his lips rise.

on the tv fiona had just entered the cafeteria where her estranged mother was waiting for her. my eyes start to tear up hearing fiona talk about how she was let down by her mom not being present in her life and she walks out but decides to walk back to her. vernon didn’t even look in my direction but he holds up a tissue for me. i smirk glancing at him and take the tissue. a loud sniffle comes from the other side of the couch as the credits roll. everyone turns their heads staring at seokmin who had tissues in his hands and tears streaming down his cheek.

“okay, we’ve watched all three princess switched movies and home alone, now it’s time for everyone to decide which movie is best?”

vernon and i stood up in front of the tv while we asked josh, seokmin, seungkwan, dino, mingyu, jun, seungcheol and jeonghan. each member comments of which is their favorite movie to watch. we end up with a tie which meant josh is the tie breaker.

“i am sorry, y/n. i have to go with vernon’s pick.” josh says.

“three to four, i win!” vernon cheers sticking his tongue out at me as the other disperse into their own conversation over dinner.

“whatever. the princess switch is still my favorite movie. to each their own, i guess.” i crossed my arms against my chest.

“do you want to bake some desserts like stacy in the princess switched?” he asked.

“and this is why you’re best friend.” i grin linking arms with him.

“we are best friends because you have co dependency issues and haven’t been able to let me go since the third grade.”

i laugh at his joke tossing a pillow in his direction. he throws his arms up protecting his head from my attacks. we go back and forth reminiscing over old memories together like the time i came home crying after a boy i liked rejected me or the time vernon thought he could run through the grass field before the sprinklers could turn on without getting wet. in the middle of laughing over old memories, an unknown overwhelming feeling hits me. i look up at vernon from my eyelashes as he hugs himself trying to catch his breath from laughing. a wave nostalgia hits me remembering the scene of fiona and her estranged mom except i was remembering how vernon and i have gone estranged.

“hey, is everything okay? you’re crying.” his voice filled with concern, wiping away a tear from the corner.

i smile at him. my eyes glossy mumbling, “yeah. i just missed you.”

“you’ve been here with me all day. i am not sure how you’re missing me.”

i roll my eyes at him before shoving his shoulder gently, “i meant, in general, loser. i missed spending time with you especially around the holiday season. it’s hits me more that we have grown distant.”

a few tears slip down my cheek as i sniffle. the guys all looked at one another and talk over one another to leave the living room. they scatter out of my apartment leaving vernon and i alone. a hollow hole sits in the chest making it hard to compose myself. vernon straighten his posture, his shoulders rigid as he wraps an arm around me.

“y/n, i am still here for you and i always will be. i haven’t gone anywhere.” he reassures me.

“i know. it’s just things have been different. you know they’ve changed, it’s not the same like before when we used to always hang out and see each other. now we have lives that we gotta live, even if it means we aren’t a part of each other’s everyday. it’s just sucks a little more on the day when i miss you, that’s all. i am not trying to be too mushy or anything.”

i wipe away my tears finally taking a breath. for years i have grown comfortable with how our dynamic in our friendship has changed. slowly vernon stopped texting me, but i can’t fully blame him. i have also withdrawn from him too. i got scared waiting to see if he would make time for me again and i decided to board up my heart so no one could break it.

after running into vernon after years of barely contacting one another, the feelings of longing make a surprise appearance. my heart slowly cracks thinking about all the broken slow replied exts and cancelled hang outs which never got rescheduled.

vernon squeezes my shoulder pulling me closer to him and rest his head against mine. “y/n,i have missed you too. i agree it’s not not the same like it was before. things have changed and i will fault in that for growing apart from you. i just want to remind you that even though life does take over you’ll always be my person. no one gets me like you do, so i don’t ever want to lose you. you’re my safe place and best friend.”

“vernon, you jerk! you’re not supposed to say these things to me.” i cried, smacking his arm. “you’re my safe place too. i just miss having you around and feeling connected with you. nowadays it just feels like we are casual acquaintances and i don’t like it”

“how about once a month we plan a weekend hang out together?” he suggested.

“i am not sure i want to see your face once a month.” i tap my finger against my chin out of contemplation. “wait! how can we even hang out once a weekend? your schedule is literally packed throughout the entire year.”

“okay maybe a weekend is a bit of a stretch considering we are both out traveling with packed schedules. we can have weekly facetime calls to catch up and talk. also if one of us is in town then we can meet up.”

“sounds like a doable plan, mr. chwe.” i grin looking at him. i held my pinky up to him, “to being acquaintance to best friends again.”

“y/n, we’ve always been best friends.” he laughs.

“okay, to finding our way back to each other.”

he links his pinky with mine, “to finding our way back to each other.”

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kingkat12 · 2 days ago

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mistletoe (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, dumbification, mature themes, manipulation, toxic relationship, sorta uncomfortable oops, is Roman using his powers or not?, angsty fluff

summary: one week of repeated quarrels brew down to a heated conversation at a Christmas party... will Roman be able to convince you he knows what's best for you?

word count: 1,536

a/n: hey again!<33 i wanted something cute and Christmas-y, but damn... this is far away from that. I doubt Roman likes Christmas at all anyway, so I couldn't bring myself to write something fluffy omg. read at your own discretion, love u<33 merry christmas!!!

"... You hung it up there on purpose,"

"I didn't," Roman said, smirking down at me as he pointed at the mistletoe above us. Evil man, cornering me in the doorway to the empty kitchen. "This is fate. You have to kiss me now."

Under any other circumstance, I would've been a blushing mess. I might've indulged the banter, I might've already dragged him down to my level and kissed him, but alas-- I didn't have it in me. Not after we had been bickering for a whole week. "Since when were you an avid participant in tradition?" I snarked, crossing my arms over my chest as I glared up at my tall boyfriend. "You hate everything else, but this mistletoe-stuff is acceptable to you?"

Roman rolled his eyes, snapping out of his feigned indulgence. "You're being difficult,"

"And you're yet to apologize!"

"Come on!" Roman let out a big huff, pointing at the sweater he had been forced to wear to this party hosted by my friends; the theme was ugly Christmas sweaters, and I bought him one that was just perfect. Seeing the big, bad Roman Godfrey in a reindeer sweater with a red nose that lit up when you booped it was a consolation prize after our quarrels this week. "Look at the shit I do for you, okay? Now stop giving me grief and kiss me!"

Had I not been wearing heels, I would've probably stomped my foot like a toddler-- "No! I'm still mad at you!"

"For what?" he snapped, his green gaze narrowing with his next words; "For that thing I said about your friends?"

What a stupid question. "Obviously!"

Roman let out a patronizing laugh as he rolled his eyes, reaching up to touch the mistletoe above us in the doorway. "They do suck,"

"They do not!"

"They come up with humiliating Christmas sweater parties, and on top of that, they suck,"

Fucking hell. Dating Roman was impossible at times. I glanced around, making sure no one was around to hear this conversation-- I doubted my friends would be happy to hear this coming out of his mouth. "And you think I'm the biggest fan of Peter?" I hissed, turning to face my boyfriend again. "He keeps reciting Romeo and Juliet and claiming he wrote the passages! He's crazy too!"

That seemed to strike a nerve with Roman; "Hey!"

"Hey right back at you!"

"At least he's nice!"

"My friends are nice too!--"

"No, they suck!" Roman leaned down to my level; he scanned the annoyed look on my face as he took a step forward, forcing my back up against the doorframe. "You know they hate me, right?" he said, lowering his voice.

My eyes rounded out, feeling my breath get stuck in my chest. "They don't," I tried not to sound so meek, but it turned out to be impossible. I couldn't bring myself to raise my voice at Roman now that he was so close, now that his breath was falling hot against my cheek.

He tilted his head to the side, sending me the condescending look I knew all too well. "You're so naive," he whispered. "They talk shit about me, and they talk shit about you. Do you know why I've been so pissed at you all week? It's because you can't stand up for yourself when it comes to those bitches!"

I didn't want to hear it. I really, really didn't. "Roman--"

"They walk all over you, do you not see it?!"

Angry tears were welling up in my eyes; "Stop it!--"

"You think I want you to be around people like that? Don't you think I want what's best for you?"

"You don't know what's best for me!" I hissed, deciding to get back up in his face. Roman was pissing me off more and more by the minute. "You control every other aspect of my life, and I let you, but not this one! My friends are my territory, and I need to have some autonomy here!"

It was true-- I liked turning my brain off around Roman. I liked that he had money, that he drove me everywhere, that he paid someone else to get my homework done, that he paid for my manicures, because why should I not allow myself the luxury? He got off on it, anyway. It drove him absolutely mad, gave him a high to doll me up and parade me around. So yes, I allowed him control of almost every part of my life, but not this one. I had to be able to make one good choice, no? Or was my brain already too far gone, too fried by pleasantries to function?

Roman's green eyes narrowed as he glared down at me. He let out a sharp breath, visibly growing angrier by the second. However, he contained it with bitten-down words; "And you know why you're so happy to give me control? Because deep down, you're aware that you make bad choices,"

"I don't!--"

"You do,"

Every piece of my self-worth was crumbling at his feet. I let it all sink in, and allowed myself to chew and process the truth he was serving me; Roman was painfully right. I had never been the best at making any choice of any sort. I wasn't sure why my lower lip was quivering with my next quiet words; "But... I like my friends,"

Roman sighed, eyes softening at the sight of me. "I know," he cooed, reaching forward to stroke his thumb across my cheek. "But I'll find you some new ones, okay? Let me deal with it for you."

I didn't want to fight anymore. Didn't want to fight this-- Roman's eventual occupation of my whole life, and his need to conquer every piece of me. There was something about the spark in the green of his eyes, the hidden fire behind his innocent, sweet words that I innately liked, anyway.

Roman made me feel dumb.

So unbelievably brainless.

... Because maybe I was?

I let my inner monologue die out, go into static noise, as Roman's hand went into the hair at the nape of my neck. He twisted his fingers harshly into my locks as he grinned against my lips-- He had won. Fucking Napoleon. "I'm gonna take such good care of you," he cooed. "You don't ever have to see any of these people again, I'll make sure you don't."

Maybe that was for the best?

Roman knew better than me, anyway. Roman was smart.

I was nothing compared to him.

Nothing.

Roman's eyes sparkled with glee at the sight of the wreck he had made out of me. Finally, after one week of planting seeds of doubt in my mind, he had gotten through to my psyche. "What do you say we get out of here, hm?"

I nodded, trying not to hiss as his fist in my hair tightened. Now, I couldn't move-- I was forced to look straight into his eyes, unable to escape his gaze.

"Gonna fuck you real nice for being such a good girl," Roman whispered, brushing his bottom lip against mine as I let out a shaky breath. "How many times do you want to cum tonight? I'll do it all for you, don't be shy."

I so desperately hoped no one was hearing this conversation. However, it hit me that it didn't matter; I wouldn't see these people again. Roman would make sure of that. "Two?" I tried, not sure what to answer. He got so intense sometimes, it made me weak at the knees with discomfort.

Roman tsked, grinning; "I think we can shoot higher. Let's say three,"

Who was I to deny myself such pleasure? "Okay," I breathed, feeling my cheeks turn a light shade of pink. Nonetheless, I made a point out of getting up on my tippytoes to get closer to his face. "Roman?"

He seemed as amused as ever; "Yeah?"

"Did you still want that kiss?"

Roman glanced up at the mistletoe, momentarily letting out a short laugh. I was sure he had forgotten about it. "You bet," Roman murmured, glancing back down at me before leaning down, nudging my nose with his as an invitation.

I smiled as joy coursed through my veins-- I knew I was in good hands. Roman knew how to take care of me properly, much better than I ever could myself.

It took me about a second before I realized I was leaning in.

Two seconds to realize Roman's soft lips were on mine with the gentlest touch known to man.

And three to realize I was the luckiest girl in the world.

Someone who kisses like this couldn't ever want anything bad to happen to me, right? His motives couldn't be selfish-- no, that was impossible. Roman's kisses were merely touches of utter love, kisses to ease me, disarm me, and push me into the right path of submission. Every brush of the soft pillows of his lips against mine was the equivalent of a verbal confession of love.

As I pulled him closer, mentally thanking the person who hung up the mistletoe here, I saw red lights shine through my closed lids-- I smiled into the kiss, realizing we had set off the red reindeer nose of his sweater.

This is what I was made for.

This was who I was made for.

Roman-- only Roman.

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #hemlock grove #bill skarsgård #fanfic #x reader #fanfiction #bill skarsgard #oneshot #christmas oneshot #hemlock grove fanfiction #bill skarsgård fanfiction #this is so problematic omg #i have no idea what came over me #oh well #i miss posting!!!

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atsro-slut · 2 days ago

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Hey hey astro! I was thinking about reader that turned into a fox (or other, if you prefer) animagus with the help of the marauders and joined Remus on a full moon? You can make it angsty, fluffy, spicy, ... whatever you prefer!! 🫶

Whisper of the Full Moon

Hi, hun!! I hope you enjoy, I loved writing this one!!!

Remus Lupin x female!reader

Y/N becomes an Animagus with the Marauders' help, transforming into a fox to stand by Remus Lupin during his werewolf transformations. Together, they face the full moon, their bond stronger than ever.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

Y/N had always known that she was different. From a young age, there had been something about her that set her apart from the other students at Hogwarts. But it wasn’t until she met Remus Lupin and the Marauders that she truly understood what that difference was.

At first, it had seemed like any other school year. Y/N had been a bright student, excelling in her classes and making friends effortlessly. But when she found herself drawn to Remus, a shy and mysterious boy in her year, her life began to change in ways she hadn’t expected. Remus was different from the other boys—quiet, reserved, and often absent from school due to unexplained illnesses. It was only when she got closer to him that she learned the truth: Remus Lupin was a werewolf.

The revelation had shaken Y/N to her core. She had heard the rumors—whispers in the hallways about the strange boy who would disappear once a month and return looking drained and sick. But Remus had trusted her enough to tell her the truth, and in that moment, something inside her clicked. She loved him, and nothing would ever change that.

It wasn’t long before she became entwined with the Marauders—James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and of course, Remus. The Marauders had their own secret: they were Animagi, wizards who could transform into animals at will. James was a stag, Sirius was a dog, and Peter, though not as skilled, was a rat. But there was something about Y/N that made them believe she could join them.

“You’re strong, Y/N,” James had told her one night after a particularly intense study session in the common room. “You’ve got the magic in you. You just need to unlock it.”

At first, Y/N wasn’t sure what they meant. But the Marauders were persistent, especially Sirius, who had a way of convincing people that they could do anything. They had been working on their Animagus transformations for years, and they believed that Y/N could do it too. After all, if they could become animals, why couldn’t she?

And so, under the cover of darkness and the guidance of the Marauders, Y/N began her training. It was a grueling process, filled with trial and error, but Y/N was determined. She wanted to be part of their world, to stand by Remus during the full moon, to support him in ways that no one else could.

It took months of hard work. There were times when Y/N felt like giving up, when the transformation seemed impossible. But the Marauders were patient. James taught her how to focus her magic, how to connect with the animal inside her. Sirius helped her embrace her inner strength, while Peter provided encouragement when things seemed bleak. And, of course, Remus was always there to support her, his eyes filled with pride whenever she made progress.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the day arrived. Y/N stood in the middle of the Marauders’ secret hideout, her heart racing as she focused all of her energy on the transformation. She could feel it—her magic humming inside her, pushing against the walls of her human form. With a deep breath, she let go, allowing herself to fall into the magic.

The change was almost instantaneous. Her body shifted, fur sprouting from her skin, her limbs shrinking and elongating as she became the animal she had always known herself to be. She was a fox—quick, agile, and clever. Her senses were heightened, and the world around her seemed more vibrant, more alive.

When she opened her eyes, she saw the Marauders standing in front of her, grinning from ear to ear.

“You did it!” James exclaimed, his voice filled with pride.

Sirius clapped his hands together. “Welcome to the pack, Y/N.”

Peter beamed, his eyes wide. “You’re amazing.”

But it was Remus who stood closest to her, his eyes soft with admiration. “You did it, love. I knew you could.”

Y/N could hardly contain her joy. She had done it—she had become an Animagus, just like the Marauders. But more than that, she had done it for Remus. She had done it so that she could stand by him, so that she could be there for him when the full moon came.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

The full moon was approaching, and Y/N could feel the tension in the air. Remus had been quiet, more withdrawn than usual. The days leading up to the full moon were always difficult for him, and though he never complained, Y/N could see the toll it took on him.

She knew the full moon was coming, and with it, the transformation that Remus dreaded. But this time, things would be different. This time, she would be there by his side, in her fox form, ready to help him through the night.

The Marauders had made special arrangements for the night of the full moon. They had found a safe place in the Forbidden Forest, far from the castle and the prying eyes of anyone who might stumble upon them. James, Sirius, and Peter would stay with Remus, watching over him in their animal forms, while Y/N would be there too, a silent companion, offering her support.

When the night finally arrived, Y/N met the Marauders at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, her heart pounding in her chest. Remus was already there, standing alone beneath the trees, his eyes haunted by the knowledge of what was to come.

“Hey, love,” Y/N whispered, her voice soft and comforting. She stepped forward, nuzzling her head against his leg in her fox form.

Remus looked down at her, his lips curling into a faint smile. “I’m glad you’re here, Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “But you don’t have to do this. It’s dangerous.”

Y/N shook her head, her fox tail flicking back and forth in determination. She was here for him, and nothing would make her leave. She had trained for this moment. She was ready.

The transformation was starting, and Remus’s body began to shake. His breath quickened, his eyes widening in pain as the change overtook him. Y/N could feel his distress, the rawness of his emotions, but she stayed close to him, a steady presence in the midst of the chaos.

The Marauders were already in their animal forms—James’s stag, Sirius’s dog, and Peter’s rat—surrounding Remus, offering their silent support. But Y/N was the one who stayed closest, never leaving his side. She could feel his fear, his shame, and she knew that he needed her more than ever.

As the full moon rose high in the sky, Remus completed his transformation into the werewolf. His body twisted and contorted, his eyes glowing with an eerie yellow light. But Y/N wasn’t afraid. She had seen this before, and though it was always a terrifying sight, she knew that she was safe as long as she stayed by his side.

The night was long, and it was difficult to watch Remus struggle against his instincts. But Y/N never left him, never faltered. She stayed close, her fox form darting around him, offering comfort in the only way she knew how.

When the sun finally began to rise, signaling the end of the full moon, Remus’s transformation began to reverse. His body slowly returned to its human form, and as the last of the werewolf’s fury faded, he collapsed onto the forest floor, exhausted.

Y/N was there, as always, nuzzling his face with her fox muzzle, her eyes filled with concern. She stayed with him, offering her warmth and her presence as he recovered from the ordeal.

“Thank you,” Remus whispered, his voice hoarse. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Y/N wagged her tail, her heart swelling with love. She had done it—she had been there for him, just as she had promised. Together, they had made it through the night.

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:☆

From that night on, Y/N knew that her place was with Remus. She was no longer just his girlfriend—she was his partner, his equal, and his constant companion. The Marauders had welcomed her into their circle, but it was with Remus that she found her true purpose.

Though the full moon would always be a challenge, Y/N knew that they would face it together. With the help of the Marauders, the support of her friends, and the love she shared with Remus, she was ready for whatever came next.

In the end, it wasn’t about being an Animagus or having the ability to transform into a fox. It was about the people you loved and the sacrifices you were willing to make for them. And for Y/N, that was all that mattered.

She had found her place in the world, and it was by Remus’s side, through every challenge, every full moon, and every new beginning. Together, they would face whatever came their way, knowing that they were stronger than they had ever been before.

And with that, Y/N knew that no matter what the future held, she would always be there for Remus. Through the full moon and beyond.

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gloomskulls · 2 days ago

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LIMERENCE PT 2 [tasm!peter parker x reader

pairings: tasm!peter parker x reader

part 1

warning(s): dub/non consensual (reader is drunk and drunk people cannot give consent), terribly written smut (i'm a virgin i'm sorry, I have no idea what goes on actually in the bed), oral (fem receiving), drinking, drunk reader, overstimulation, everyone is 18+ here lemme know if I missed any

If you don't want to see my dark stories in the future please block the tag #madi: dark content

A/n: I'm sorry this took a whole ass while, it's probs 90% story and 10% smut. Like it's probs shit, the smut's the reason why I couldn't finish this sooner because I had no idea where it was going. Also tried to write 2012 slang, idk if it even sounds right. don't steal any of the shit I've written or else I'm going to turn you into Victoria Heyes from terrifier ❤️🫶/srs

Peter shuffled in his sleep. Tossing and turning. Sleep never found him, how could it? He did something so unforgivable. Having an obsession with someone who barely acknowledges your existence is one thing, but sneaking into her house, completely crossing every single line, and then jerking off to the scent of your panties while imagining you on top of him, riding him as you creamed his cock with your cum.

The air felt heavy and there was an almost stifling silence in his small bedroom, while his mind worked in the manner of a broken machine, looping thoughts.

Every single thing about you — your laugh, the spark in your eyes when you spoke of something you loved, the way you uttered his name — his mind kept replaying like a broken record. Each one felt as fresh as if it had just taken place a moment ago, and each one pulled at something deep within his chest.

He had spent years arguing with himself about what he was doing. He told himself that viewing you from a distance was merely innocent fascination, a little crush. But that had been a lie. What he had done the night before, sneaking into your room was not a mistake; it was a deliberate decision.

Peter was filled with doubts, a regular person would call him lovesick, a creep even. Is she really worth it? Peter admits something he'd been avoiding for a while.

He wanted you.

Not as a classmate. Not as a partner for a stupid project. He wanted you in a way that was raw and desperate and consuming. Oh, he wanted you to look at him the way you look at the rest of the world with trust, with affection, with the same ease that made you laugh at his dumb jokes.

The realization hit him hard. The weight of it sank into his chest like a boulder, but there was a rush of something else too-something darker, more intoxicating.

Peter sat up abruptly, there's only one way or another, heart hammering as he snatched up his phone. Tapping out a quick message, he did so with trembling hands.

"Hey, u free 2nite? Was thinkin maybe we could finish the proj & grab dinner after. My treat. :)"

He stared at the screen, his thumb hovered over the send button. The fear crept back in, whispering in the back of his mind. What if she thought he was crazy? What if she rejected me outright? What if everything he'd built up in his head came crashing down?

Many thoughts crowded his mind, neither of them was good

As he stared at the text, his finger quivered. His stomach tightening in knots. The reply was already forming in his mind—would you say yes? Or perhaps he was weird for asking, for suggesting anything other than school?

But what if he didn't ask? What if he kept on pretending that this crush wasn't eating him up from the inside?

I've got to do this; he tried to steady his breath. This would never come again.

Deep breath and then Peter clicked "send."

Time seemed to stretch into eternity. His mind was racing, spinning out into the worst-case scenarios. You could just say no or even laugh it off and tell him it wasn't a good idea. It's a biology project, after all. That's what it was supposed to be—right?

That crumbled page of biology scraps lay on his desk as evidence of the project you both were working on. It was supposed to be a simple collaboration, probably will last for a few weeks if he was lucky, and then he'd just go back to being invisible to you.

But he didn't want to go back to being invisible.

He sat there at the edge of the bed, hunched over in an awkward position, his elbows rested on the stretched knees, and he stared his phone, convinced that at any moment it would leave his grip. He had typed the message, the own words glowing brighter as he waited.

He had redone it like at least a dozen times, but all versions felt way too casual to too formal. His current message was just right; friendly, innocent enough but still an invite.

What if you think it is strange? What if you don't even reply at all?

He shook his head to stabilize his breathing. It's alright, he told himself. His not asking for something crazy. It's only a dinner.

But it wasn't just a dinner. It was the convergence of years of quiet yearning, stolen glances, and missed opportunities. This was the first real step toward something more, if only he could find the courage to take it.

He shunned his phone flat on the bed thinking that might ease the tension in his chest, but it didn't. His heart raced as seconds ticked by on the clock, each second feeling like an eternally long wait.

What if you didn't reply?

What if you did?

His thoughts were interrupted abruptly as his phone buzzed.

He grabbed it with trembling hands.

"Sure! I'm totally in. Where r we meeting? 7?"

He read the message over and over again: You're saying yes. Relief was an actual weight that was just lifted as disbelief flooded him as he blinked at the screen, rereading the message to make sure it hadn't been imagined.

For a moment, he allowed himself to smile, but it quickly disappeared. Now that he got the answer, a different kind of panic struck.

What happens next?

"Yea 7’s cool, I’ll pick u up @ ur place"

He looked up at the clock-6:30. In thirty minutes, he needed to get ready. Thirty minutes within which he needed to figure out how not to screw this one up completely.

Peter fell out of his chair and quickly rifled through his closet for something fresh and unique that didn't look like it had just been thrown on five minutes ago. His room was strung out in a mess of hoodies and T-shirts that didn't do any good as he tried on piece after piece-each feeling wrong.

"Relax," he murmured at himself while gazing at his reflection in the mirror. Hi hair looked like he just crawled out from under the bed, his face was red, and no matter how many adjustments he attempted on the clothes, he still looked like the awkward kid he'd always been.

Peter raced around his pod-sized room in search of a shirt that didn't scream "high school loser." The bed was a battlefield littered with crumpled hoodies, a checkered flannel, even his Midtown Science Academy T-shirt.

"Peter?" Aunt May's curious sounding voice called out from the hallway.

"Yeah?" he shouted back while looking through his closet and listening.

"Why does it sound like a tornado hit your room? Are you okay in there?"

Peter groaned and threw another hoodie onto the pile he was amassing on the bed. "I'm fine!"

The creaky door slammed open a moment later, and Aunt May peeked her head in. Her sharp eyes traveled the disaster area that was his room, from the piles of clothes, and even down to the one sneaker he was wearing.

"Uh-huh. Fine." She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "What's all this about? A wardrobe crisis?"

He sighed at her and rubbed the back of his neck. "Nothing serious, okay? I just… I'm going out."

May raised an eyebrow as her lips twitched as if trying hard not to smile. "Going out? As in… on a date?"

"What? No!" Peter's voice shot up as he spun around, waving his hands. "It's not a date! It's just dinner. For a project. With a friend."

By now, she wasn't even trying to hide her grin. "A 'friend,' huh? Is this the same 'friend' you've been talking about nonstop since this biology project started?"

"I don't talk about her nonstop!" protested Peter, turning into a shade of tomato. "Oh, you definitely do," Uncle Ben countered from outside the hallway and into the room, sporting the knowing smirk of someone who has heard too much. "Half the time, it's, 'Oh, she's so smart,' and the other half is, 'She's so good at this lab thing.'" He said with a dreamy tone

"Okay, okay, so I get it!" he groaned while burying his face in his hands. "Can we not do this now?"

Ben laughed and slapped Peter on the shoulder. “Relax, kid. We are just teasing, and you've got this.”

May walked into the room and picked up one of the forgotten shirts from the bed. Holding it up, she said, "What is wrong with this? Nice but casual, not slobby."

Peter squinted at it. "It's too—I don't know; plain?"

"Plain is better than looking as if you are trying too hard," she said, tossing it to him.

Uncle Ben nodded sagely. "It's right." "You don't want to go full tuxedo on a first—uh, not a date," he added quickly, holding up his hands when Peter glared at him.

Peter huffed but pulled the shirt over his head anyway. "You two are the worst," he muttered, though his tone lacked any real bite.

May smiled and reached out, smoothing the collar of his shirt. "We are not the worst. We are just proud of you. It's good to see you putting yourself out there."

"I'm not—," Peter began, but Ben cut him off.

"You are," Ben said firmly. "That's a good thing. Just be yourself, Pete. If she's as great as you say she is, she'll see what we see, a smart, kind, slightly awkward but very lovable kid."

Peter's face burned. "Yea, you really know how to give a pep talk."

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Ben fired back with a grin.

May handed Peter his second sneaker. "Here. Don't forget this, unless you're planning to really impress her with your one-shoe look."

Peter rolled his eyes but could not quite hide the grin that crept onto his lips. "Thanks, Aunt May."

So Ben called after him as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "And remember, kid—Italian places usually give you breadsticks first. Don't fill up before the main course!"

Peter groaned loudly. "I'm going now! Bye!"

He was there, at your door, heart pounding heavily, as if wanting to burst out from the body. He lingered for a while, staring at the doorbell.

What if this is a mistake?

But before you could think otherwise, the button pressed his finger.

And then echoed the sound of the bell from inside, and Peter felt that the earth would open up and swallow him whole in an instance. He heard footsteps, and then the door opened.

There you were.

"Hey, Peter!" you said, smiling that effortless way that made his breath catch in his throat, stepping aside and gesturing for him to come in. "You're right on time, I just need a minute to grab my bag."

Peter managed a small smile and stepped in, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. "Yeah, of course. Take all the time you need."

You disappeared into another room, leaving Peter hanging awkwardly at your door, his eyes darting about. It was a very warm and inviting house, in harmony with the kind of person you were. The faint hum of a television in another room was muffled, someone talking, and he could hear that easily.

Your presence returned with your bag slung around your shoulder and you ignited the nerves again in Peter.

“So,” you said, smiling at him, “where to?”

Peter hesitated just a beat too long, his mind scrambling to come up with an answer. "Uh, I was thinking Italian? That okay with you?"

"Italian sounds great," you said easily as your smile widened.

Peter's heart raced as you stepped out the door, walking beside him toward the small restaurant a few blocks away. The night air was crisp, and for the first few minutes, he was too caught up in his own head to say much. But then you started talking, asking him about his day, about the project, and the sound of your voice eased some of his tension.

You made him feel like he belonged, even without having a word to say.

When the restaurant came in sight, Peter turned to you. Nerves still there but mixed with something else: a quiet and hopeful excitement.

Maybe just maybe, tonight will be the beginning of something real.

The walk to the restaurant was such a nerve-racking experience. Each step Peter Parker took beside you felt like a step closer to something he wasn't ready (or was actually hoping for). His hands buried deep in his jacket pockets, fingers curling and uncurling, while trying to keep steady pacing alongside you.

But you appeared to be at full ease. You talked about the cool evening, how the trees' leaves were beginning to rustle with the cold wind blowing, and even the faint smell of roasting chestnuts from a street vendor a few blocks away. Peter heard everything, nodded, and punctuated things now and then with the occasional "Yeah" or "Totally," but as for his thoughts, they were running wild within him.

This is well. This is the standard. This is alright, He didn't over hypothesize for the hundredth time.

As much as there was relief in now having something solid to focus on, Peter was panicked that it all became real at that moment.

He opened the door for you, his hand trembling slightly as he held it.

"Thanks," you said, giving him a swift smile before stepping inside.

"Uh, yeah. Of course," Peter mumbled as he hung his head and followed you in.

The hostess took you to a corner besides the glass window, a cozy little spot with a flickering candle in the middle of the table. Peter's hands trembled as he took the chair and gestured you to sit on it.

The menu in front of him could be in another language as he stared dumbly at it, words bringing into a blur while the thoughts buzzing in his head were getting harder to put to rest.

Don't be weird. Just be normal. What does "normal" even mean? Stop overthinking! You've got this!

"This place is nice," you commented as you scanned the menu. "How did you discover it?"

"Oh, um, my aunt used to like it here," Peter said, grateful he could answer such a question. "She says the lasagna is the best."

You grinned. "Aunt May has good taste. I will try that."

He nodded, yes, but could not stop the rush of nervous thoughts flooding his mind. He glanced at the menu as if studying it although he already knew what he would order. But his mind was instead filled with every possible thing he could screw up tonight.

Don't talk too much; don't laugh strangely; don't look like an idiot.

Here came the waiter, and you ordered effortlessly, laced with a polite smile as you handed him the menu. Peter stammered out his order and felt his palms sweat as he gave it. When the waiter walked away, Peter could feel your eyes on him, and it took everything he had to meet your gaze.

"So," you said, leaning in with elbows planted on the table, chin cradled in palm, "what's your thing, Peter?"

"My thing?" he said, taken aback. "Like, my thing?"

"Yeah, like… what do you do for fun? What are you really into doing when absolutely no one else is watching and judging?"

Peter blinked, trying to think of something that wouldn't sound lame. "Uh, well, I like photography," he said. "And science, I guess. Experiments, stuff like that."

You perked up. "Photography? That is cool. What kind of pictures do you take?"

"Mostly city stuff," he said, his voice gaining a bit of confidence. "You know, like weird angles, shadows, reflections. It's probably not that interesting to most people."

"I think it sounds interesting," you said. "I would love to see your pictures sometime."

Peter's heart was pounding so hard. "Really? Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, if you want."

That made the conversation flow more easily. You told him about your love-hate relationship with math, how sometimes you spent too long procrastinating by watching cooking shows instead of doing your homework, and how one time you tried to make crème brûlée and almost burned your stove.

“I had to open every window in the house,” you said, laughing. “My mom came home and thought I’d burned dinner. I didn’t tell her it was supposed to be dessert.”

Peter grinned, feeling just a little bit more at ease. “Maybe stick to cookies next time, huh?”

“Noted,” you said with a mock-serious nod.

Then it was time to eat. You both started digging into it while still keeping up your conversation. Peter quickly found himself becoming much more relaxed, finding it absolutely easy to talk to you when he didn't over-analyze every word. You burst into laughter each time his jokes finished, and whenever his eye fell into yours, everything around faded.

There was little doubt that he was doing this because he was desperate enough to strike a topic that wouldn't make him sound like an idiot; this was the reason why he asked, "You, uh, good with the whole project?"

You leaned back, fiddled with the napkin on the table, and said, "Yeah, it's actually been fun. Well, I mean, we work well together, and you're much smarter than I had thought."

Peter blinked. "Wait, you thought I wasn't smart?"

"No, I just-" You smirk, it's clear you're enjoying his reaction. "You always seem kinda… busy with stuff, you know? You're not exactly the loudest guy in the room."

"Well, I, uh…" Peter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm, uh, more of a behind-the-scenes guy. You know, less talk, more… action?"

You laughed, the sound light and easy, and Peter felt himself get a little more relaxed. Maybe you weren't judging him.

'This place have wine?' you ask all of a sudden, not looking up from the menu.

Peter blinked. "Uh… I think so?"

You smirked and put your feet up on the table after throwing the menu on it. "Perfect. I could use a glass."

Peter was at a loss on how he should respond. It just didn't seem like the kind of person who would order wine to go with dinner-at least, not in his limited and admittedly romanticized view of you. But when the waiter came by, you ordered an entire bottle without hesitating, barely glancing at Peter for confirmation.

"Um, yeah, sounds good," Peter said weakly, even though the thought of drinking anything stronger than soda made him nervous.

The waiter nodded and disappeared, leaving the two of you alone in an awkward silence.

But the waiter was back again, this time with a bottle and two glasses, which he laid down with a polite smile. And before you knew it, the deep red liquid was already swirling around in your glass because you had poured it in haste from the bottle.

Want some? You asked, already halfway through your first sip.

“Uh, maybe later,” Peter said.

You shrugged and took another long drink before putting the glass down with a satisfied sigh. “Suit yourself.”

The most casual kind of conversation developed between you: you asked Peter about what he was interested in, and he managed to stumble along throwing together great lengthy descriptions about why he loved photography and science, and the words came out too fast for him to think them. It almost seemed like you were listening to him, however, because he went on to nod before even asking follow-up questions, which made him for the first time in a long time feel that he wasn't entirely invisible.

By that time, he was becoming aware, as the hours slipped away, that you were filling up your glass more and more often. The bottle was now half empty when the food came, and you were already sporting rosy cheeks when the alcohol was pouring into your system.

“This is good,” you said, hardly bothering with your plate in order to gesture with your fork at it. "I mean, really good. Good call, Parker.”

The smile that appeared on Peter's face was that of nervousness. "Thanks. I'm glad you like it."

Now you leaned back in your seat, holding your glass up to the light. "You know, I don't really do stuff like this. I've kind of never had dinner with classmates. It's just a little… weird, you know?"

Peter sank a little. "Weird, how?"

"Not bad weird," you said immediately by waving your hand. "Just… different. Like, generally, I would just be at home watching some lousy reality show and trying to forget how much homework I have to do."

Peter chuckled, even though he had no idea what to say next.

After a sip of wine, the boy looked up at Peter who immediately landed his gaze upon the bottle. You seem well into your first glass with a heightening sense of ease that you appeared to be at his home. Maybe it was because of the wine or perhaps how you were looking at him right now-not with judging spectatorship but with a strange kind of understanding that made him feel as if he were not really out of place.

It was only a count of seconds before the food arrived while you already had a second glass in hand. Peter's stomach flipped at that moment. This wasn't the way he was used to seeing you, all loosened up and speaking without that slight guard he usually saw when you were around. You appeared different tonight, and Peter couldn't quite figure it out if it was a good thing or not.

However, the conversation was still going on, only that as soon as you took a few more drinks, conversations shifted to more profound, much more personal things. Laughter spilled from your lips more freely, although Peter saw that smiles were now somewhat uncontrollable. Maybe it was the wine; maybe it was just the ambience. In any case, he could feel something shifting, like you were letting him see this version of yourself you weren't sure he was supposed to see.

"Peter", you said, looking at him with wide eyes after a long sip. "What's your big dream? Like 20 years from now, what do you see yourself doing?"

He shifted around uneasily on his chair. And that question was sudden, a little more intense than he would have reckoned it to be. He was not used to being asked about his future like this.

"Honestly?" said Peter, leaning back a little and looking down at the half-finished plate in front of him. "I don't really know. I think- I think I want to do something with science, or photography. Maybe combine. Don't know really. Just like, I want to fix things, you know? Help make the world a little less broken.''

You were quiet for a moment, and Peter wasn't sure whether it was because he'd said something wrong or whether you were just thinking. But when you finally spoke, your voice was softer, almost quieter than before.

"I think that's really admirable, Peter."

That was it. That one simple sentence hit him harder than he expected. He wasn't used to compliments like that- not from you, not from anyone. The words were a strange dream, and for a second he just looked dumbfoundedly at you trying to really understand what you mean.

Peter had never imagined the night to go this way. Not even in a million years. But here he was, walking alongside you, swaying slightly on the sidewalk with less steadiness in your step than before. Surprisingly, the wine had hit you faster than he figured, and he wasn't so sure if he should be concerned or just chalk it up to the kind of night it had turned into.

"Hey, I'm-" You hiccupped, laughing lightly at your own clumsiness. "I'm fine, Peter. Really."

But Peter wasn't so sure. His instincts were whipping him into overdrive-the same ones that always made him want to leap into action when something was amiss. "Yeah, I don't think you are," he said, trying to keep it light. "Let me just walk you home, okay? Just to make sure you're good."

But you rolled your eyes, with an almost sheepish smile you gave in, "Fine, fine. I get it. You're worried about me."

"Yeah, I am," Peter said, his voice a little quieter than he intended. "But you're my responsibility right now, okay?"

You exhale a small laugh, and Peter can't help but take note of how completely giddy it sounded, a little like you weren't quite sure where you were or what you were doing. You leaned against him, and then Peter was surprised at how easily you let him help you with that.

The way home was otherwise silent except for the occasional trip and the muttered apologies from you. But Peter didn't mind it, sensing closeness, although strange. Everything was just weird tonight. The brushing of your hand against his as you reached for your keys. That laugh of yours that wouldn't leave his ears. The vulnerability you seemed to wear in your eyes at that moment.

So, then you reached your door, and you suddenly stopped and stood there, fumbling with the keys in your hand. Peter moved closer but silently offered to help. You shook your head.

"I've got this," you said, though your words were slurring just enough for Peter to catch the uncertainty behind them.

After much effort on your part, the door finally opened. You leaned in again, and Peter nearly lost his heart as he had to rush forward to steady you.

"Whoa, take it easy," Peter said catching you as you stumbled. "Let me help you."

You smiled up at him, glassy and unfocused. "I'm fine, Peter," you slurred. "Just a little…tipsy."

Peter chuckled and guided you up the walkway to your front door. "Tipsy, huh? Well, let's get you inside and safe, then."

As you both reached the front door, you fumbled with your keys and Peter had to gently take them from your hand and unlock the door himself. You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

After some time and a couple of tries, she got the door opened.

"Okay, inside," he said, his tone a little more powerful now. You did not resist him as he helped you through the door, but there was a strange sadness in your eyes that twisted Peter's stomach.

You moved slowly to the couch and finally sank down on it; the wine was exhausting. Peter stood near the door for a moment, wondering his next move. He wanted to shoot his shot, his thoughts wandered to somethings more inappropriate. Wasn't this all about getting you safe? Ensuring you did not end up passed out somewhere in a big, messy pile of sheets and regrets.

"Can you just… stay for a bit?" you asked quietly, with barely a whisper.

Peter hesitated. He didn't want to go too far, and he couldn't just leave you here, not looking so…fragile.

"Yes," he spoke softly, entering then into the living room. "I'll stay for a bit"

You nodded at him, gazing at him with tired eyes. "Thank you."

Peter perched on the edge of the couch; his hands awkwardly balanced on his knees. What a strange space there was between you two now, strange in that it was so very close, yet so far away. He wanted to be of some use and ensure you were okay, and yet the way the glance kept coming from you in that direction somehow felt… off. It was like walking on a fine line.

Peter looked at you longingly, you were so beautiful.

Too close and too perfect, he found himself sitting next to you, and Peter felt the pressure of so many things left uncommunicated fill his chest. He needed to do it. He needed to say it.

"Peter?" Your voice was a soft whisper, a little uncertain. Wine had aided this whole relaxing process, yet made almost everything feel slightly out of focus.

Peter swallowed, heart pounding in the chest. He wasn't entirely sure if it was the alcohol that has found narrate in your system, or if it was the raw honesty of the moment, but he knew very well it was now or never, the one chance to say all he had kept bottled up for months.

"Yeah?" he whispered, getting closer so that he was almost against you now.

"It's just that, I… I'm sorry if I've been too much tonight," you said, your words slightly slurring as you allowed your gaze to drift over his face. "I didn't mean to get that drunk."

Peter felt his breath hitch in his throat. "It's fine," he said, his voice softer now. He could feel his palms sweating, his heart racing faster than ever. "I just… I just want to make sure you're okay."

You smiled up at him, but it was a little foggy, and Peter could tell that the wine had dulled your clarity. Still, you were so beautiful, standing there, looking at him with those eyes—eyes that made him feel like he mattered.

Peter took a sharp breath and let a sudden breath of air come out. It was as if a magnet was pulling them together, and he was drawn to it. "So, uh– I was thinking…" He hesitated for a moment, then recovered his composure, trying to calm the trembling in his hands. "I've been thinking about you for a long time. Like, longer than I should have."

His brows knitted further in confusion as Peter quickly realized that the rest of the sentence was failing miserably in getting through your mind, as if the actual words were swimming around in it, suspended in fog. He stepped closer, unable to stop himself.

"If I—" He let out a shaky breath. "You know, I've been loving you for so long now. And tonight, I couldn't hold it anymore and just… broke the dam."

Your expression shifted slightly. Confusion clouded your gaze. You blinked, trying to piece together his words. "Wait, what?"

Peter took a step closer, completely incapable of holding himself back. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, and he felt the heat between you intensify. He reached out, his hand brushing gently against your arm. "I love you," he whispered again, barely able to breathe. "I love you so much, and I've been too scared to say it. I've watched you for so long, and I—" Peter stopped mid-sentence as he looked at you, eyes looking like a lost puppy.

"You're so beautiful, so so beautiful" He leaned in, your face was so close to him, his lips brushed against yours. He held your face as he licked your lips.

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin with just the proximity of Peter's face to yours, and the goosebumps it sent down your spine. Those eyes were filled deeply with a longing expression and captured yours as if drowning you in its depths. There was air that quite vibrated between the two of you, and the heat that seemed to take form could even be felt emanating from his body.

"I wanted to do that for so long," Peter whispered. His voice shuddered with desire. Gentle words falling like a caress to send shivers through you: "Wanted to touch you, hold you, kiss."

His lips brushed against yours when he spoke, making your body spark with electricity. You were pretty much melting into him, as if his very desire were consuming your human body. His lips, soft and gentle, just as firm and insistent. You tasted like wine.

"You're so beautiful" he said as his hands went underneath your dress, his hands inching close to your under garments. He touched your clothed core; he used his index finger to rub your clothed cover clit

You squirmed in his touch, "P-peter" You mewled in his mouth

This just seemed to fuel Peter even more, as he set aside your panties as his smooth fingers rubbed your now exposed core. Peter looked at you, he slowly kneeled as he spread your legs.

He looked at your wet core, as if it was a painting that he couldn't understand. Without warning he then sucked your glistening pearl; his tongue probed the inside of your gummy walls as his fingers rubbed your pearl. You cried out, your body arching up to meet him, and Peter felt a surge of excitement. He was in control now, and you were at his mercy.

He knew it was wrong, you were drunk after all, but he couldn't help it, this was his only chance.

He licked and sucked at your clit, his fingers plunging in and out of your dripping wet pussy, you cried out in ecstasy, your hands tugging at Peter's hair. But he didn't care, all he cared about was your dripping we cunt.

Anticipation dwells in the coiling mouth against your body, sending shivers along your spine. Every inch of you is lulled into stimulation by his gentle probing, drawing near to a soon-to-be-hidden insistent demand. You can feel that hot air glazing across your skin, soft scraping with teeth, and relentless pressure from his lips, all of which accompanies his tongue.

Your hands are clenched while he works, fingers digging into the sheets or perhaps his hair, holding him there. Your hips jerk primitively, as though to push him deeper and encourage more pressure, while your breathing makes raspy sounds mixed with soft mewls of pleasure.

One hand is busy at your hips, molding you solidly into place, while the other slips only up over the curve of your waist before settling over your breast.

You feel yourself immersing in the sensation as your focus is honed into one. The only critical thing is the feeling of his mouth on you. The whole room begins to fade away, and you're left with only the slushing wet sounds he makes and your breathless gasps, groans, and cries.

Peter on the other hand felt like he was in cloud nine, his mouth was now fully covered in your arousal, but he didn't care. He continued lapping at your cunt, accompanied with his middle finger thrusting in and out of you.

As the intensity rises, so do your frantic movements: the hips jerk and thrust as though reaching toward some ill-defined height. His mouth is a scythe-like blur of tongue lashing and probing until the pressure builds and you're all quivering trembling muscles, precariously balanced on a knife edge of release.

Your mouth is wide open, frozen in a silent scream on your lips, and your entire body starts quivering at the moment of release.

Then silence engulfs the outside world; its only inhabitants are trapped in a silent world of raw lust. His mouth is a furnace, raging, and threatening to engulf you completely, but you lean into the flames, thirsty for the intense heat that only he can provide. Your skin is slick with sweat, your heart thundering like a runaway train as your body builds toward the inevitable climax.

Your cries intensify as tension rises, a mournful cry into this frantic air, a scream savage, echoing off the walls as your body strains towards that release. Your muscles quivering.

Before you knew it, it almost hit you like rough wave of pleasure.

His cock twitched, his balls tightening with anticipation, as he felt the warmth of her your release in his mouth. That alone could make him cum his pants. He had never been this close to a woman before, and the thought of exploring your body was almost too much to bear. And here he was doing exactly just that.

You were beautiful to Peter, but you looked ungodly when you were in a state of release. The way your chest would heave up and down, how your mascara was running down your eyes, and your lipstick smudged on the side of your face.

"You're so beautiful" he said, barely even above a whisper.

"P-peter— OH MY GOD!"

He suddenly took a long slow stripe of your pussy, as if savoring everything, but then stopped when his tongue reached your clit. He sucked on your little pearl as if it was lollipop.

You moaned loudly as your back arched and your toes curled, "P-peter" You whimpered

The way he was sucking on your clit, along with his fingers that was thrusting deep inside you. It made it nearly unbearable. The last few moments or so almost sent you spiraling into one of those severe orgasms that made you see stars on your ceiling.

Loud moans slipped from your mouth, you wondered if your parents were at home, what if they see their sweet girl falling apart underneath the so-called weird kid of your school.

Your hips bucked against his mouth, trying to ease the bittersweet pleasure he was giving you. "P-peter, oh god, stop, I c-can't take it anymore" you begged in a voice very nearly a whisper. Body trembling, your hands reached instinctively for his hair, holding him.

He continued his performance on your clit. A familiar knot kept building inside you. Suddenly, the moans turned into loud gasps, and your body began to shake uncontrollably. P-peter, I…I think I'm going to come again" you finally whisper. To that, he only sucked harder, licked harder, his fingers falling on a rhythm with his tongue swirling relentlessly on your sensitive spot, bringing you to sweet agony. Your back arched up, you gasp while screaming, "P-PETER!"

Heaving and shaking with each pulsing moan, you lay there with your body's hypersensitivity after such intense pleasure receding. Finally, Peter raised his head. That satisfied smile on his face was testimony to your ability to elicit such feelings from him. And with his eyes, he stared at you, every flicker of lust speaking volumes about what was crossing his mind. Then he kissed near the center of time in your inner thigh, his lips dragging softly, and then moving to lie with you at the side of the couch

Peter's smile slowly faded as he noticed your catch of breath, replaced with a show of real concern. He stroked your hair as he gazed into your eyes. "That was intense," Peter said. "You're shaking." His voice was tender, wrapping around you like a soft blanket. "Time to get you to bed, all right?"

He managed a slowly rise from the couch while extending his hand forward towards you. You grasped onto it and found your balance shaky; nonetheless, Peter assisted you toward leaving the living room, down the hallway, and into your bedroom.

Peter opened your door slowly, revealing the bedroom from that night. Snap out of your thoughts Parker!

The bedside lamp cast a warm glow over the room. Peter placed you carefully at the edge of the bed. He knelt down to remove your shoes and started undressing you slowly and carefully. He threw the covers over you as you laid back in bed, tucking you in like a young child.

"Rest," he whispered as he brushed his lips against your forehead. "Sleep, I'll be here when you wake." He sat beside you, stroking your hair with his hand. Your eyelids began to feel heavier, and weariness, along with all the forms of pleasure, finally overtook you. Peter was the last person you remember as you slipped into slumber, where upon you felt the warmth beside you that offered the source of a much-needed sense of safety.

@gloomskulls 2024, DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE OF MY WORKS IN ANY OTHER WEBSITE. Photos don't belong to me

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psychoticfemmm · 24 hours ago

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Hia! Can you do another Peter Parker x Stark! Reader, I absolutely loved your last one. Could the plotline be along the lines of : Tony walks into your room and finds you and Peter asleep cuddling after you snuck him in the night before. Maybe the whole team gets involved and starts taking photos for blackmail 🤣 Thank you!

Caught in the Act

pairing: Peter Parker x stark!reader

summary: read the request

The sunlight streamed through your bedroom curtains, falling perfectly on the two of you. Peter Parker’s arm was draped over your waist, his face nuzzled into your neck. His warm breath tickled your skin, and you groaned softly, stirring from your sleep.

The events of the night before were hazy but thrilling: a whispered phone call, Peter scaling the side of the Avengers Tower, and an impromptu movie marathon that ended with the two of you tangled up in each other’s arms.

Peter shifted in his sleep, his nose brushing against your collarbone. A soft hum escaped him, and you smiled, reaching up to lightly ruffle his messy curls.

“Good morning, lovebirds.”

The unmistakable voice of Tony Stark shattered the moment.

Your eyes snapped open, and your heart dropped. Standing at the foot of your bed was your dad, his arms crossed and an expression caught between amusement and absolute mortification.

“D-Dad?!” you stammered, sitting up abruptly. Peter groaned at the sudden movement, blinking himself awake.

“Morning, Mr. Stark,” Peter mumbled sleepily before realizing where he was and who was standing there. His eyes went wide, and he bolted upright. “MR. STARK! I—uh—this isn’t what it looks like!”

Tony raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Really? Because it looks like Spider-Boy snuck into my daughter’s room and decided to cuddle his way into trouble.”

“Dad, it’s not like that!” you protested, though your flushed face said otherwise.

“Oh, so it’s worse,” Tony quipped, cutting you off. “Got it. And by the way, the entire team is outside, loving this.”

Your jaw dropped. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did,” Tony replied smugly. “Because if I have to suffer through this, everyone else does too.”

Right on cue, the door creaked open, and Steve Rogers stepped in, his phone out and snapping a picture. “Morning, kiddos. Cute couple pose, by the way.”

“STEVE!” you yelled, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at him.

Natasha followed, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Aw, I remember young love. You guys were adorable—until Stark called us in for backup.”

“Seriously?” Peter groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“Oh, it’s not just us,” Natasha added as Thor poked his head in.

“Why was I not informed of this bonding moment?” Thor boomed, grinning. “Ah, Spider-Man and Stark’s offspring. A powerful duo!”

“Can you all get out?!” you shouted, grabbing another pillow.

“Not until I get my blackmail photo,” Natasha teased.

Peter tugged you closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “You know, if this keeps up, I might have to climb out the window.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you muttered back, glaring at the group.

Bruce finally showed up, shaking his head with a soft laugh. “Tony, you’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

“I like to think I’m setting the bar,” Tony said smugly.

Finally, the team filtered out, laughing and bantering as they went. Tony lingered for a moment, fixing Peter with a look. “You’re lucky I like you, Parker. But if I catch you sneaking in again, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“Yes, sir,” Peter stammered.

As the door shut, the room finally fell silent. You let out a sigh, flopping back onto the bed. Peter lay beside you, covering his face with his hands.

“Well,” you started, “that went about as horribly as it could’ve gone.”

Peter groaned. “They’re never going to let me live this down. Your dad is probably going to build a tracker for me now.”

“Probably,” you teased, rolling onto your side to face him.

He peeked at you through his fingers, his face still flushed. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” you admitted with a grin.

Peter leaned in closer, his voice dropping slightly. “You know, we could’ve avoided all of this if you hadn’t convinced me to stay the night.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I convinced you? Last I checked, you were the one who said, ‘But I can’t leave you now, you’re too cute when you’re sleepy.’”

His cheeks turned redder. “Okay, fine. Maybe I did say that.”

You leaned closer, your lips brushing against his. “Guess you’ll just have to make it up to me later.”

Peter’s breath hitched, but before he could respond, you pulled back, smirking. “Now, get up, Spider-Boy. We’ve got breakfast to deal with—and probably a million jokes from the team.”

“Great,” he muttered, though a small smile tugged at his lips. “But next time, we’re sneaking into my room. May wouldn’t call the Avengers on us.”

“Deal,” you replied, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door.

#peter parker x stark!reader #Peter Parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #marvel mcu #fanfiction #the avengers #marvel #Peter Parker x avenger!reader

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ilions-end · 2 days ago

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🎵 guess who finished the argonautica by apollonius of rhoooodes 🎵

the peter green translation served me well and i enjoyed the sizable commentary section, although it probably influenced my interpretation more than i'd like for a first read (green is VERY opinionated and also hilariously bitchy about scholars he disagrees with. the first time i've read such a sarcastic translator's commentary!)

BUT ANYWAY THE EPIC ITSELF:

iiiii have never felt this much anxiety reading an epic before?? there's an ambiguity and sense of danger in this poem's events that aren't necessarily WORSE than in other epics, but there's a feeling that i can't... actually trust the heroes involved. the argonauts are rowdy and reactive, and jason is NOT able to take charge of them -- he shrinks away and goes silent whenever his leader position is called into question. the mob rules, whoever shouts the loudest (often telamon!) in any given situation gets to decide, no thought of consequences.

or maybe reading about a main character who wants to do great things but suffers from debilitating conflict avoidance is a little too real. agh.

(and it's not like the thebaid! you can't trust the heroes in the thebaid either but their hubris and egos makes them PREDICTABLE. there's something unnervingly ambiguous and potentially unsafe about jason and his argonauts, even though they never get up to anything truly horrible. in this version anyway)

jason is incredibly intriguing -- even at his most unlikeable. it's like he tripped and fell into a story he doesn't belong in, he's so awkwardly miscast as a great greek hero and can't live up to the poem's own hype. he's described as heroic at every turn even when he's not actually being heroic, like in an INCREDIBLE passage as he fights the dragon teeth warriors and he's said to "valiantly hide behind his shield". LOOK AT THAT PHRASE!! HE'S BRAVELY COWERING. incredible writing. apollonius is genuinely a master of subtle sarcasm throughout.

like it says a lot that there are MANY variations of the line "but Jason, eyes fixed on the ground, sat there speechless, unmoving, at a loss in this crisis". and baby there are a lot of crises in an epic...

also maiden-coded jason still makes me vibrate! his frequently downcast gaze, his shy passivity, how delicately his body is described, the way he is a sexual object to pursue instead of the pursuer, how unusually tactile he is... one of the most memorable parts to me is when he finally gets the golden fleece, and what does he do? he doesn't raise it above his head in triumph, he doesn't wrap it around himself like a glorious cape and stride to address his men. he disengages completely and, spellbound, pets it and caresses it and combs his fingers through it in almost erotic delight. just. immediate zoned-out personal gratification, we're hitting masturbation parallels, no other greek hero would DO that!

which also makes it interesting that they use the fleece as bedding for their wedding night. i wonder which one jason enjoys lying with most, medea or the fleece...?

yeah so when medea appeared suddenly allllll my affection for jason evaporated. i'm not one of those "yay medea butchering her children is girl power actually!!" girlies (that's five hundred times too reductive a way to engage with a greek tragedy for me), i was prepared for whatever kind of medea apollonius would give me, but WOW SHE IS SO INCREDIBLY SYMPATHETIC (and intentionally so, see how she isn't even the one to kill her brother in this), she is SO ill-treated here. it's SHE who undoubtedly is the gods' plaything in this, not jason!

like how HORRIBLE her experience of being obsessively in love is! (turns out getting shot by eros' arrow is a psychological and emotional NIGHTMARE!!) how painfully aware she is of her own irrationality, how intense her inner life is. at one point she thinks so much about jason all night that she self-induces a (shockingly realistically described) migraine! she loves him so much she wants to kill herself instead of feeling something so intense and unpleasant and overwhelming. JESUS CHRIST it's so evocative.

she torches her whole life, her own safety, her own family for jason, and all he can do (after a lot of pushing) is murmur vague promises. it's HEARTBREAKING the utter helplessness she accepts to live in for him. there is no safety net for her, no way to regain safety if things go wrong (and you are so painfully aware that things WILL go wrong)

generally the argonautica feels more closely related to the odyssey than any of the other epics i've read. not just all the sailing, but the centrality of magic, and of course visiting a lot of the same places -- including the court of alcinous and arete before they had nausicaa (and arete is already the one in charge!)

more moments i keep thinking about:

that first lovely glimpse of the inherent dysfunction of the expedition as the argonauts have gathered for the first time ready for departure, and jason delivers a speech like "men! now that *I*, jason son of aeson, have arranged MY glorious expedition so that *I* can find the glorious fleece and win MY kingdom back, who do we all figure should be captain? 😉" and all the argonauts immediately start chanting "HE-RA-CLES! HE-RA-CLES! HE-RA-CLES!" it's so funny

heracles' role is generally so amazing, what contrast he offers! because HE IS the old-school hero who can do anything, fight any enemy, who has everyone's ear (if not respect -- he seems to be a LOT to handle, even for the other argonauts), who can LEAD. but they FORGET HIM ON AN ISLAND AND LEAVE HIM BEHIND, and now jason, tripped-and-fell-into-epic-heroism jason!, gotta be fully in charge and timidly face every obstacle himself.

i genuinely didn't know hylas getting abducted by the nymphs was from this myth! AND HE'S HERACLES' LOVER, actually the eromenos to heracles' erastes?? and heracles LOSES HIS SHIT TO AN ANIMALISTIC DEGREE at the loss of hylas. this is why none of the other guys brought along their boytoys, dude, this is a disaster.

i REALLY appreciated the introductory rollcall of EVERY argonaut (even if half of them were never mentioned by name again). i always wish we had something like that for odysseus' main crew in the odyssey. it's nice having that overview.

one of the most memorable glimpses into the lives of the gods i've read: eros and ganymede in the garden, playing knucklebones together under the shade of flowering trees and they're both so youthful and so inhumanly beautiful and the scene is so idyllic -- and then aphrodite stomps in and immediately snaps at her son "what are you grinning at, you unspeakable little horror?" she HATES that spoiled teen. it's zeus and ares all over again.

speaking of gods, that one time the argonauts make landfall, and in the distance they see apollo just walking across the land (each footstep thundering) and they're scared stiff and just wait until he's fully passed by... and then can finally get on with their business. no followup, no consequences, just a random incident to freak them out. it reads like an animal encounter, like they saw a huge bear on a hike, i'm obsessed.

i got jumpscared any time the text mentioned "the son of oineus". i'm like WHAT. TYDEUS?? but no, meleager's here, it's fine.

as i mentioned, jason is the one who murders absyrtus (although medea isn't uninvolved) but i'm particularly fascinated by how neutrally we're told about the rituals he performs to not be cursed for it. like there's our wondrous hero, cutting off his murder victim's hands and feet, lapping up the blood and spitting it in the corpse's mouth three times. all done, welp, time we were on our way!

circe can see at first glance that she and medea are related because they both have the sun god's golden eyes, i love that!. and THEN THEY SPEAK TO EACH OTHER IN COLCHIAN, WHICH JASON DOESN'T SPEAK. he's sitting right there and i love that he doesn't understand what these incredibly powerful women are talking about.

obsessed with how jason is described as "walking like the morning star" (bright, promising, bringing good fortune) on lemnos and is then likened to a star of destruction and woe as he's about to meet medea for the first time. aaaaa it's so good.

the argonauts being challenged to a boxing match, and I GUESSED CORRECTLY that they would choose polydeuces as their champion!! i am embarrassingly proud actually. i did not know there was a boxing match (to the DEATH) in the argonautica but i KNEW polydeuces was famous for his boxing.

also i love that when they get to the garden of the hesperides it's a WRECK because heracles was there THE DAY BEFORE!!!! what an incredible sense of time and place, only seeing the IMMEDIATE AFTERMATH of the labours of heracles.

it's so WEIRD when the argonauts get to libya and they're out of supplies so they all just immediately give up and cry and hug and lie down in the sand to die. until the local goddesses come like "JESUS ARE YOU FOR REAL WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU GIVING UP NOW. GET GOING FOR FUCK'S SAKE."

oh ancient texts, i will never get used to your incestuous dreams of good fortune (no it's GOOD that he cried with shame for passionately fucking his daughter in his dream, that's a very lucky dream to have apparently).

and then apollonius just signs off like "yeah i know they're not home yet but i promise nothing interesting happened after this point. THE END." like he's just NOT gonna touch whatever fuckery happens after, you wanted the argonauts well you GOT the argonauts.

#first impressions tag #the argonautica #apollonius of rhodes #jason and the golden fleece

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enbysiriusblack · 3 days ago

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december jily bingo: fireworks & hugging just for warmth (does this count as two or am i cheating? 🤔) @jilychallenge

Potter manor was filled with their peers, strolling the grounds drunk and happy. Euphemia and Fleamont had long since gone to bed, setting up fireworks before giving Sirius free reign on setting them off.

The winter party dipped later and later into the night, the home still swarmed with guests. James Potter, however, focused only on one guest throughout the night.

Lily Evans arrived late, dressed in an emerald muggle party dress and with a fairly fancy box of chocolates as a house gift for James' parents. She then proceeded to dance with Mary for the next few hours, only taking short breaks to grab drinks. James was enamoured.

Now, hours later and Mary gone off, Lily settled down on the grass outside, waiting for the firework display Sirius had promised soon.

"Hey, Evans."

Lily turned and gave him a smile, "Lily now, remember?"

"Right, Lily", he waved a hand through his hair, "You having fun?"

"Yeah", she patted the grass next to her, prompting him to sit, "Can't believe I missed out on coming to these every year."

"Well I did invite you."

Lily snorted, "Did you really think I'd come any of those times?"

James shrugged, "Didn't think you'd actually come this time to be honest."

"Oi, I told you I would."

"Yeah, but you were like three hours late."

Lily blushed slightly and turned to glance at the various other people, claiming spots on the Potter's makeshift qudditch pitch.

"Something wrong?" James asked, noting the sudden shift.

Lily coughed slightly and turned back to him, "No, I just- I was late because I wasn't sure what to wear."

"Well you look great."

"Thanks", Lily snorted, "I just panicked a bit. I got all ready and then suddenly thought I should maybe try harder. Tried on all my best outfits and some of Mary's too."

James frowned, "That's nonsense. You'd still look the best dressed here even if you just wore your school uniform."

Lily smiled, "Are you saying I don't look good in my school uniform?"

"What-no!" James panicked.

Lily let out a laugh and touched his knee, "I'm messing with you, James."

A sudden boom sounded and the two glanced up to the night sky just in time to see a swirl if red sparkles fizzle in the air. A second came shortly later- gold waves cracking in the sky.

James felt Lily shiver beside him so he wrapped an arm around her. She shuffled closer to him.

They stayed wrapped in each other's arms as Sirius set off more and more fireworks, shifting from the muggle ones to the magical ones. And soon the fists of explosions shifted more to images against the blackness of the sky. From advertisements for Sleakeazy's products to snowflakes and ice skating.

The two kept shuffling closer, eyes kept on the firework display. As the night grew colder, they were practically sat in each other's laps.

As a large pink heart sparkled in the sky, Lily resolutely made herself turn away from the fireworks just as the sparkles dimmed away. Instead, she turned to James and wrapped her arms around him, face pressed against his neck.

"Uh, Lily?" James froze.

"Sorry", she murmured, "It's just so cold."

"Oh", James paused, "Did you want to go back inside?"

Lily lifted her head up to look him in the eye, "No, I’m very cozy here, as long as you don't mind?"

James grinned widely, "Oh, it's fine! I'm freezing cold too."

Lily placed her head back down, "We'll warm each other up then," she breathed against his neck.

Peter glanced to the two of them from only a few metres away before turning back to Remus, "Why don't they just do a warming charm like everyone else has?"

Remus smiled slightly, "I don't think they're just hugging for warmth."

#jily #jily microfic #james potter #lily evans #my writing

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yoredoesmore · 21 hours ago

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Can I request for Soshiro Hoshina and if possible Soichiro Hoshina (I know he barely showed up yet in the manga but I love him so much- dw you can decide to not make for him) I just want headcanons or like a fix of them being in an arrange marriage- you can choose if they were at first enemies to lovers or childhood friends,can you also make gn reader a badass and for a bit of angst they almost died during a mission- like if you know that scene from spiderman where Gwen fell and Peter couldn't save her- but just have this end in fluff 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 I'm sorry if this request is complicated sorry- YOU CAN IGNORE THIS IF YOU'D LIKE HAVE A NICE DAYYYY💕💕✨✨✨✨✨

a/n: I take so much time making these requests but I hoped you stayed patient with me > <

Till Death Do Us Part | Hoshina Soshiro

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x Gn!Reader

genre: /romance/slowburn/enemies to lovers/angst/fluff

summary: your mother may have the power to give you and your entire life away to secure your family's survival but only death itself could ever actually make you fall in love with that man..

wc: 2,4k

a/n: I don't know what this format of writing is called but I hope it isn't too confusing > <

Enjoy!

An Arranged Marriage – When those words first slipped from your mother's lips, you wanted to scream. Your heart pulsed with unease, anger even but you knew all too well that this was for the best. If there was one thing your mother held dear in life, it was the clan. Its prestige and well-being were of great importance to her and the only way to keep those secured was to give you away to a good family.

A childhood long lost – Your clan's reputation has become as bad as it could be. Your father passed away, your relatives were at each other's throats, holding onto old grudges and most traditions have been lost in time and ignorance. Only a fool would take someone as tained as you in, thus you wondered what clan would be idiotic enough to have you carry their name.

“A childhood friend?” You scoffed, the mockery in your voice as evident as the stars on the dark firmament. Not knowing who was stupid enough to have you join their family kept you up all night, therefore you decided to confront your mother. Turns out that she too had her own demons that kept her from getting any sleep.

“I never said friend.” The woman took a long drag from her Kiseru, relishing in the flavor of the tabaco before letting go of it all in one long puff.

“His father is an old acquaintance of mine. If you remember his child is of no importance, all that matters is that they are in our depths.”

The Farewell Before Death – The day of your wedding was as uneventful as one could imagine. You did not get to see your husband until moments before the ceremony. Most of your time on that day was spent in the botanical garden next to the shrine, a beautiful place where all your thoughts roamed free. You enjoyed the peace and quiet, until they were broken by an unfamiliar voice.

“The ceremony is about to start.” A man you have never seen before stood before you, dressed in what seemed like some sort of uniform.

“Can I not enjoy my last moments of peace without any disturbances?”

“Well, I was just-”

“About to leave?” Your smile sat gentle on your face, yet it reeked of toxins similar to the ones the flowers were producing. Without raising another word the man took his leave, allowing you to mourn your last seconds as a free individual in silence.

It wasn't your intention to be rude, but you were not in the mood to entertain guests. Thus, you sat there in silence until your mother came looking for you.

The Groom – As you kneeled in front of the altar, you yet had to register in your mind that this moment sealed your future forever. Other's would call you foolishly selfless but you have always found yourself putting the need of those you were close with above yours.

You didn't get to see the groom until he kneeled by your side. It would have been a lie if you said that you weren't at least the tiniest bit curious, so you allowed yourself a small peak.

“Can't tell me to leave now.”

That voice..

The man from before sat to your left, a sheepish smile lingered on his lips. Finally, the fact that you were to be married and bound to him to eternity registered in your mind.

Oil and Water – After a week of the ceremony passed, the situation became clear for all to see– this marriage was going to be difficult. Your mother had claimed that you knew each other from the past but neither of you were able to recall any interactions. But that's besides the point. Your opinions, thoughts and approaches to a situation– they could not vary any more from another than they already did. Like oil and water, the two of you stood on opposing sites, unable to find common ground.

And it didn't help that you had infiltrated his workplace.

It was one of his “demands” that his partner would join his journey– it was either that or make yourself useful in the estate. You scoffed when you heard your options and immediately declared that you would become one of the greatest defense force officers Japan has ever seen.

And you were right.

Unwanted Attention – Only two weeks after your enlistment, you already became the talk of the base. Everybody wanted to know who this new cadet was and how they were so skilled without having attended any training courses. The focus on your person only increased when people found out that your last name was Hoshina.

The attention was quite bothersome, to the point where you couldn't go anywhere without having someone ask you about your relationship with the Vice Captain. But to your surprise, everything died down one day. After asking around, you found out that Soshiro mildly threatened to personally deal with those who continued to bother you about your personal life.

After that, people only came to your for training advice or other work related things. Your skills were admirable after all.

Before he passed, your father used to train you. He was once a defense force officer himself, stationed in Kyoto but when he suffered a life changing injury during battle he was forced to retire. But still being full of passion and spirit he made the decision to pass all his knowledge down to his child.

A common ground – Although your marriage was blunt and flavorless (with little to no interactions outside of work or even at home) both you and Soshiro seemed to get along just fine during missions. He would give you commands, which you followed precisely. And whenever you came up with a way to defeat a Kaiju, Soshiro would execute your plan perfectly. Your performance on the battlefield earned you acknowledgement and respect from your peers and even Ashiro. You were greeted with smiles and bows, a different vibe from what you were used to back at your home.

Time Brings Progress – The more time passed, the more you found yourself interacting and being with Soshiro. You still didn't see him as your husband but he was no longer a mere stranger either. In fact, he has grown so comfortable around you that he started to tease you like he did with his squad. He would throw in a couple sneaky remarks every now and then and you would give him the same amount of sass back. It was a fresh breath of air in between the usual blunt atmosphere.

What Couples Do– You noticed a subtle difference in Soshiro's presence over time. He showed a more tender nature when he was alone with you, a soft side you had never seen him embrace before. It was small stuff like him making sure that you were included in conversations or checking in on you when you were working overtime. Even at home, he made the time to leave little notes behind for you when he had to work on your day off or asking you if you needed anything before going to bed.

When you addressed his behavior during dinner, all he did was chuckle.

“Ain't that what couples do?” He simply smiled, placing a neatly cut piece of steak on your plate. He sounded so carefree and calm, different from his usual cheerful demeanor.

“But ya warmed up to me as well.” He suddenly said, looking straight into your eyes.

A Sacrifice – It was an attack like you have never seen before. After the night of the dinner, you mustered up the strength to ask your husband if he wanted to go out for the evening– since it was your first day off together, but unfortunately you never made it to the restaurant. A Daikaiju of a fortitude level of 8.1 showed up and all troops were called to the scene.

You were fighting alongside Soshiro, your guns reaching the monster where his blades were unable to cut, yet the situation continued to stay dire. The snowfall was hindering everyone's vision and the troops seemed conflicted about the outcome of the fight– but then you saw an opening.

A weak spot that has been off radar due to the heavy snow blocking your view of the monster. You immediately alarmed Ashiro and told her of your plan. But for it to succeed a distraction was needed.

That is when you looked at Soshiro. It took him a moment to realize what you were about to do but it was already too late. You began to set up one of the big guns the force had brought along and aimed it at the beast.

Soshiro's hands pulled and pushed on your shoulder, trying to stop you from the reckless action you were about to perform but you stayed persistent.

“I can't let the less experienced cadets handle this, Soshiro. I promise you, I got this.”

Your voice reeked of determination but deep down concern sat in your chest. The weapon was only strong enough to mildly injure the Daikaiju and hopefully draw its attention towards the high rise you stood on. But the final strike had to be executed by the Captain and it had to be perfect, since you only had one shot.

Soshiro trusted your skills but he did not want to take any risks. This was your first huge mission and if he were to lose you here, he would never forgive himself. Especially now that your relationship was taking such a good turn..

“Ya have only been here for two weeks, Y/n. Don't try to act cool.” He sighed as he suddenly pulled you into a hug. It was the first time he had shown you physical intimacy since your wedding but it felt oddly comforting. His hand pressed onto your back a little bit too tightly but you saw it as a sign of concern.

Soshiro had to be physically pulled away by the other members when the time came.

Where the Snow Falls – You waited patiently, anxiety pulling on your skin as the cold winter night claimed your consciousness. But when the moment came for you to deliver the shot you did not falter. A clean beam aimed right at the Daikaiju's back, and just as predicted it came charging towards you. As it's tail came swinging for the building, your hands reached into your pockets, grazing over the wedding ring inside the fabric.

At exactly that moment, Ashiro aimed her weapon at the weak spot you had mentioned before, a thin layer of skin right at the sole of the Daikaiju's feet. The Monster came crashing down in an instant but instead of falling backwards due to the lack of balance, the Daikaiju came crashing down onto the building you stood on.

“Y/n!” The fear in Soshiro's voice echoed through the entire street.

The sudden impact of the monster with the building left you no time to react. You fell off the edge in an attempt to escape the masses of its body, caught in a deadly free fall. The world around you came to a sudden halt as your brain tried to come up with a way to escape this situation by going through memories of a similar essence– and to your surprise it found soemthing.

Fragments of your childhood, that day, featurin a snowy day like this one. You were outside of your estate, playing with a child whose face you did not remember. The snow fell heavy on the land, yet the boy you were with played recklessly without a care in the world. That's when it happened. The snow under his feet began to shift and dissappear, threatening to take the boy with it but in the last second you reached out for him and grabbed him by your hand.

“Y/n!” He had yelled out back then as you pulled him back to safety.

“Soshiro!” You screamed out as the ground came closer and closer.

Your husband came charging towards your body in inhumane speed, the safety of his suit long disabled. He wasn't going to reach you in time it seemed, thus you simply closed your eyes and held onto your ring.

But to your surprise the impact with the ground never came. Instead you felt something pull on your back, yanking you bank up before gently swaying you around in the air. A parachute?

Your heart beat so intensely, you feared it was going to spill out of your chest. As you landed on the ground, your knees immediately gave in, causing you to slump down into the rubble.

The other's wasted no time and came to your aid but Soshiro was the first to reach you. His arms embraced you in a desperate hug.

“You put the parachute on my back..” Your voice was a mere whisper as you pulled the man even closer into your body, filled with shock and trauma.

“Yes, because my partner is as selfless as they come.” He sighed, rubbing your back in comforting motions.

Soshiro refused to let go of you, even after the medic team arrived. After that day he stayed by your side, like a shadow, and refused to leave it ever since.

The Beginning of Something Beautiful – To think that it was a near death experience all those years ago that led to your marriage and another near death experience that strengthened your bond was borderline amusing.

You and your husband have become inseparable, finally taking your relationship status to heart. It did not happen immediately but over time you found yourself embracing his love more and more and of course you gave him some warmth back in return. It was the beginning of something beautiful.

“Y/n, Soshiro, are you guys down to drink with us tonight?” Kafka asked, one of his arms wrapping around your shoulders in an excited manner.

“Can't do. Soshiro and I rented a bunch of movies for tonight for our little marathon.” Your husband immediately came to your side as he heard his name slip from your lips, a proud smile on my face.

“Let's hope we don't fall asleep like last time.” You both laughed and got ready to leave the base.

You wondered if Soshiro remembered what happened all those years ago. That you saved his life and now he has saved yours. Perhaps this was all destined to happen and the heavy snow was there to set it all in motion. The two of you were indeed only able to be separated by death itself.

a/n: I have no idea if this story makes sense. I re-read it so many times and changed and added so many things it's loose in my head. I'm not super satisfied so pls give feedback if there's something I can improve :<

#yoredoesmore #x reader #anime fanfic #hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #hoshina x reader #requests are open #romance #fluff #angst #gn reader #I'm tired but the city needs me #so many author notes i apologize #arranged marriage

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colinzabelswife · 21 hours ago

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Glasses-Peter Maximoff

Peter Maximoff x reader

Warnings: nothing just fluff :)

You had always needed glasses, it was something you couldn’t avoid. You were little when it became clear that you needed them,so your parents set up an appointment to get them. At first it was only for reading, but when you refused to wear them because you thought they looked weird, it eventually became a problem.

After a few years of wearing glasses every so often, you just decided to get contacts. It would be a lot better than wearing those ugly things, you thought. Peter on the other hand thought you looked really cute in glasses. He would constantly remind you to wear them but you just protested saying that you could see without them and that they just made you look like a nerd.

“I just don’t understand why you want contacts instead of glasses.” Peter said confused, he knew that you didn’t wear them because of your insecurity. “I think you look cute in them.” You rolled your eyes at his statement. “What? I’m not wrong” Peter wasn’t lying and he didn’t like the fact that you didn’t believe him.

Two weeks later

It was currently 7:45am and you were running behind on getting ready. School started at 8 which meant you still had 15 minutes left to get ready. You were sitting at your vanity struggling to put your contacts in. “UGH! I can’t put them in!” You whine as Peter walked into the room. “Just wear your glasses” He says as he flops on the bed. You were already fed up and annoyed and his comment didn’t help so you glared at him. “Jeez sorry, I was just trying to help.” After about another two minutes of trying to put them in, you got so frustrated that there were tears in your eyes. Peter looked up at you and quickly noticed your frustration. He then got up and crouched down next to you and tried to calm you down. “Look, I know you don’t like wearing your glasses, but you’re already running behind and it doesn’t help when you’re frustrated with your contacts. So please…just wear your glasses.” Peter saw the look of determination of not wearing them, on your face. “I’m not lying when I say you look cute in them.” Eventually you caved and decided to wear your glasses.

Later that day, you could tell that wearing your glasses made a huge difference. You were able to see a lot better and everything was more clear. “Hey nerd”, you heard as you turned around to see Peter standing by your locker with a dopey smile on his face. “Shut up. I know I already look like one.” You say annoyed. “I’m just messing with ya”, Peter said pulling you into a kiss. “No I’m being serious. I woke up this morning and I’m breaking out all over my face and on top of that I have to wear these glasses”, you say upset. “Hey hey…look at me, calm down. Your acne isn’t that bad and the glasses don’t make it worse. I promise…so just calm down. You’re fine.” He said as he held you by your arms.

After a minute of standing there like that, Peter pulled away and looked in your eyes. “I know you’re feeling insecure but you shouldn’t. It’s normal to have acne and it’s not a big deal to wear glasses. They don’t make you look like a nerd, they help you see. And if people can’t see that, then that’s their issue.” After he said that, Peter pulled you into a hug. “Now I have to get going and so do you, so I’ll see you later. We can watch something together and get pizza okay?” You nod as the bell rang and walked to your next class.

Later that night like Peter promised, he ordered pizza and turned on a movie. You two were currently curled up on his bed watching a Christmas movie. “Maybe you were right about my glasses”, you say quietly. “Oh yeah, why’s that?” “Because I was able to see better and they were more comfortable to wear.” He then pulled you closer to him. “Well I’m glad that you are finally believing me.” You snuggled closer to him. “I’m going to sleep now, love you.” “Love you too babe. Sleep tight.”

Tags: @lacucarachapisser @bohnerrific69 @fear-is-truth @wcnderlnds @xrag-dollx @evansroses

Personal Rant

(This happened to me a few weeks ago except I didn’t have Peter 😔. I absolutely despise wearing my glasses because I feel like I look ugly in them and the day that I had to wear them because I couldn’t get my contacts in, my acne was horrible and I’ve never had any break outs like that before and when I put them on I felt like I looked like a nerd)

#peter maximof x reader #peter maximoff #evan peters

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thislovintime · 2 days ago

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Photo by fan Saralyn Smith.

“Everyone has a secret fear of some kind. We’re afraid of being with people — we’re sensitive and shy, afraid we don’t look look right or won’t be able to say the right thing… Whatever that secret fear is, the more we fear it, the more we want to hide it — maybe in hopes that it will go away. But it doesn’t. It just gets worse. Strangely enough, sometimes what you fear the most is, in reality, nothing to worry about at all. […] Time and other people’s help and love relieved me of the worst aspects of my fears. I had a chance to figure things out, too. It had dawned on me that there is a difference between being laughed at, which I had been afraid of, and being laughed with. When you are entertaining and clowning around, you are trying to make people laugh and be happy. You want to be laughed with. Now, the qualities that make all the difference between being laughed at and laughed with are acceptance and love. It’s as simple as that! We know that there are people everywhere who seem to carry hate in their hearts. It’s pretty hard to get through to them. But there are many, many more people in the world who have love in their hearts and who like to laugh. And it never hurts to be laughed with. All good comedians are laughed with because they’re loving the audience and the audience is accepting the love that the comedians are giving them. The handful of people who carry hate and send out hate vibrations only deserve to be pitied because they’re missing out on the whole groovy, love-filled happening called life! So, no matter what your secret fear is, if it has to do with people, as most fears do in some way or another, you can apply this solution to it. I know it works because I’ve proved it with mine. Just zero in on it and ask: ‘Are they acting toward you out of love or out of hate?’ If it’s out of hate, there’s really nothing to fear because hate doesn’t really exist — it’s only the absence of love and you can just feel sorry for them. And realize this: your love can fill their emptiness and win out! And, of course, if they’re acting out of love, well, there’s definitely nothing to fear because then they’re with you all the way!” - Peter Tork, interviewed by Audrey Hulse, Fave, May 1968

#Peter Tork #Tork quotes #60s Tork #long read #The Monkees #Monkees #more for the solid Tork advice files #can you queue it

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erinwantstowrite · 1 month ago

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Do I look like him?

had a lot of people ask me to make a tiktok for it and i swear i tried but,,, making tiktoks just isn't working for me rn so we're getting still images until i can get my brain to cooperate. anyways!! i am obsessed with chromokopia and when i heard Like Him i ascended into heaven and also cried. and it very much reminded me of LoF

#friendly reminder that peter doesn't know what richard looks like #1) because his parents died before they learned peter also needed glasses #and 2) because he would cry when he saw pictures of them as a kid and they never got around to putting them back up #also another thing: peter's universe is 7 years ahead of theirs #richard parker died when he was 36 (they had peter fairly late)#dick is currently 29 #and since richard had peter when he was 34 dick isn't far off from the age he was when richard had peter in the first place #so peter is essentially seeing his dad at almost the age when peter last saw him #but this time he can see him clearly #erinwantstowrite #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #peter parker #leap of faith ao3 #leap of faith catch me if you can #leap of faith #dick grayson #richard parker #this was essentially “yeah to everyone else peter looks like dick”#but to peter it's “do i look like you? the other you too?”#and to dick it's “do i look like my counterpart? what was his life like?”#peter has his mother's tooth gap #a tiny piece of her in this drawing #chromokopia #peter parker in gotham #like him #tylerthecreator

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o-uncle-newt · 6 months ago

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I read Possession by AS Byatt after people told me "if you liked Gaudy Night you'll like this" and WELL.

Warning- spoilers for both books abound below!

So it sounded great- as a lapsed academic (though not in the field of literature by any means) there's a part of me that loves reading about academia because it's full of such obsessive people, and this book seemed to be exactly that and so I was excited.

Then I read it, and on the one hand, my first thought was "all these people are dull as heck, the only sane modern-day one is Val, and at the end of the day the historical stuff is just two people having an affair, who cares." My second thought was "there's just enough stuff here that makes me think that maybe the author knows that all of this is stupid, like the fact that Val is obviously one of the few sane ones here." But the ending made me doubt even that. Essentially, and I say this even as that lapsed academic, the author could not convince me to care about the important things at stake here, and as a result couldn't get me to care about the people who only seemed to care about those things.

I didn't care about Ash and LaMotte- they came across as two people high on their own supply who had a tawdry affair. (And each of them is the less interesting person, as a person, than their official partner!) As a result of not caring about them, I couldn't POSSIBLY care about Roland, Maud, and the rest of their crew, because their only functions were to be possessed by, and weirdly possessive of, these two entirely unworthy individuals, whose in-universe historical and literary significance Byatt couldn't convince me of, and to use that possession as a mirror for their own very lame romance. Beyond that they're utterly uninteresting, and there isn't even meant to BE much beyond that so it's not that surprising.

Anyway, I didn't like this book much, but it still made me think a lot. And there's a way in which a certain kind of person might say "well if it made you think then that's surely a sign of some positive quality" and... maybe? I don't know. I didn't hate all of it, and some parts were interesting, and I do have a whole separate list of things about the book that bug me including a breakdown of some of the book's (perceived by me) themes that I particularly disliked lol. Perhaps I'll post it another time. So I guess you can say it spurred me to thought, but loads of things that I don't like do that, and the only positive thing that that draws from me is that they're not downright dull.

The thing is, after finishing the book I was immediately struck by that "if you like Gaudy Night..." element, because it has a situation that felt weirdly similar (if for totally different reasons)- a young scholar stealing a letter from a library/archive. The circumstances are different- in Gaudy Night, the scholar does it to hide its existence so as not to contradict his thesis, and in Possession, the scholar does it so as to explore the document further, though still secretly- but there are still some interesting parallels vis a vis class. Possession goes into the class thing more than Gaudy Night does, but neither book goes much into it- the scholar is lower-class and someone who has scraped their way to their position, and is encumbered by a female partner of lower social and academic standing, and in the end they are juxtaposed against scholars who come from an elevated class and who have more money and opportunity. In Gaudy Night, Arthur Robinson is judged by the likes of Lord Peter Wimsey and a college full of women who don't have to do anything but think, teach, write, and grade papers; in Possession, Roland has to convince a bunch of academics of standing and resources to take a chance on him (and while this is more about money than class, he's the main one who's like "maybe it's good if Lady Bailey gets her wheelchair"). Byatt elides over this at the end by having him magically become in demand and on his way to achieving his academic goals, but I think in both books, the class element really could have taken on more significance in the text.

(I'd add as well that Byatt pits the upper-class and moneyed Maud, who of course is doing things for "the right reasons," vs the evil American businessman who clearly... doesn't care about Ash enough? Despite how much he clearly and obviously cares about Ash? The book was way more interesting when he seemed like a valid rival to the British team, who only thought that they deserved the letters more because of their obsession, rather than how it turned out at the end where the American dude is an actual cartoon villain. What made him genuinely less worthy besides having money without class, and of course having the bad taste to be American? What makes one scholar's possession more justified? Sayers was never this unsubtle.)

So that made me think more about Possession vs Gaudy Night, and the thing is, there are actual living people in Gaudy Night! Say what you will about the unworldliness of the academics at Shrewsbury, but you get a very keen view of their personalities by the end, even as they are (by necessity given the rules of their world) subsumed by academia, or subsume themselves in it. And the people who do fall in love are REALLY in love, and you understand why...

And somehow a book from 1935 feels far more interrogative of the possession (or lack thereof) found in love and romance, and just about the place of women in academia and relationships overall, than one from the late 80s. In Gaudy Night, Harriet accepts Peter once she has determined that despite their power differential (brought on by class, money, history, and to a degree gender) he will not threaten her personhood, because he has proven himself to her. In Possession, Maud accepts Roland because she has the power (money, class, position, even height) and so Roland actually cannot threaten her- and yet still that final scene is about her being taken by him, basically to prove some kind of a point. In contrast, in Busman's Honeymoon, the euphemistic sex scenes are about Peter trying to please Harriet.

When I say it's to prove a point, I'm paraphrasing Byatt, incidentally- who said: "And in the case of Maud I had made it very inhibiting. She was a woman inhibited both by beauty (which actually isn't very good for very beautiful women because they feel it isn't really them people love) and she was also inhibited by Feminism, because she had all sorts of theories that perhaps she would be a more noble kind of woman if she was a lesbian. And so she was a bit stuck. And Roland was timid because I am naturally good at timid men. It's the kind of men I happen to like. He's a timid thinking man, so of course it took him the whole book." I mean... yikes, but also that explains a lot. Maud can only bring herself to be with a man who is weak/effeminate (?) enough to justify whatever weird psyche Byatt has imagined up for her, but still she needs to get over her inhibitions and under him because... reasons. I don't know.

(Height is also interesting here as a point of contrast- Byatt makes Maud taller than Roland to make a point about how on the one hand she retains the power but on the other hand there is now even more of her that has to surrender. Peter and Harriet are the same medium height and wear the same size gown.)

I think the thing that most stuns me is how regressive Possession feels when it comes to gender politics on relationships than Gaudy Night does. I'd need a whole other post to talk about this, but the theme of Possession seems to me to be "relationships that produce things (whether art or children) are worth more than ones that don't." Roland is better with Maud than with Val because Val is a second rate scholar who drags him down (while supporting him financially) and Ash is better with LaMotte than with Ellen because LaMotte didn't only inspire his writing (Ellen's contributions are described only in the negative "didn't impede"), she gave him the child that Ellen refused to. Incidentally, in both cases it's the man pursuing a relationship that will give HIM something... But, to paraphrase Peter in Busman's Honeymoon, one wouldn't want to regard relationships in that agricultural light. Gaudy Night is about how two people can produce great things without each other but choose to be with each other for their own, and each other's, happiness. They aren't each less apart, and as I noted in a prior post, they don't need to solve cases together or conjoin their work in order for their relationship to be worth something. It is worth it for them to be together because it encourages some kind of inner balance within them and between them, as people. They enjoy collaborating but that is by no means the basis of their love (and, incidentally, I think that a lot of, if not most, detective series romances fail this basic test of "would they have fallen in love if they were accountants who met on a dating app." Peter and Harriet definitely would have- would, say, Albert Campion and Amanda Fitton have? I do NOT think so).

And here's the thing- another reason why Byatt's quote above is so off-putting is that it makes it clear that not only in the text but on a meta level, the purpose of the relationships is to prove a Point. I found Roland and Maud to have zero chemistry, and honestly I was expecting them to get together 3/4 of the way through and split up at the end when it turned out they had nothing in common- it seemed like that kind of book. I was kind of stunned when they only got together at the end in an "it's meant to be" way because nothing about it seemed meant to be. They were stuck together by that one thing and they each apparently needed the relationship for some kind of self-actualization or historical rhyming or other. (Whatever I say about Ash and LaMotte... at least they seemed to like each other!)

Peter and Harriet... they get together because they love each other. Do they change over the course of Gaudy Night, and over the course of the other books they share together? Of course they do. But if it makes sense, I'll put it this way- Harriet doesn't accept Peter's proposal as proof that she got over her hangups, Harriet gets over her hangups so that she can accept Peter's proposal. Her hangups only matter because they were keeping her from this particular kind of happiness- she was a fully actualized person even with them. She is a person who does things for human reasons so that she can build a mutually happy life with the person she loves, not a little plot mannequin being moved around in order to tell the author's desired Message. People can say what they want about Gaudy Night and its flaws, but despite the intricacies of its construction, nobody can call the characters' actions and motivations anything but brutally human.

Whether within their universes or on a meta level, the books have SUCH different things to say about the value and nature of love, the place of and purpose of sex, the place of art and intellectual accomplishment in relationships, all of the above in the context of femininity… and I can't help but feel that each time, Gaudy Night wins the contest. It's possible I'm missing something major about Possession, and maybe sometime I'll post the rest of my notes about the things I disliked and people can tell me what I'm wrong about- but if nothing else it made me appreciate Gaudy Night even more, so for that I'm grateful.

#possession #as byatt #gaudy night #dorothy l sayers #lord peter wimsey #harriet vane #i'm not tagging all the characters from possession bc i don't actually really remember their full names and i'm too lazy to look them up #I also saw recs for possession for “if you like jonathan strange and mr norrell” and “if you like jfsp s9”#for jonathan strange and mr norrell i actually have several Thoughts #and am happy to share if asked #but i'm perplexed by the jfsp comparison #though a reading of ellen ash as asexual vs uncle newt would be...interesting #i guess it's based on romances contrasted through time?#also- i've seen people claim that possession is satire #to which i say #BS!!!!#the way that book is written either literally every word of it is satire and none of it is meant to be taken seriously #or it's serious as gospel #the only bits where some parts felt like they might be meant to be “satirical” in relation to other parts #came across more as caricature than anything else #cough cough lesbian feminist american professor... i mean jeez #which reminds me #any future writing i do about why i disliked possession #will have to include my take on that thing some women writers do where they're really WEIRD about how they write women #(sexually but in a way that they THINK is clinical to the point of objectivity)#while barely even describing what the men look like #and not having the women be physically attracted to them #another contrast point with sayers actually #who is perfectly prepared to have harriet be physically attracted to peter

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