#i am so sorry i’m a slow writer

[bindeds]

do you guys ever experience like a ‘dry’ period with your usual favs then something comes up and you rewatch clips of other commonly simped for characters that you didn’t really like before and suddenly it’s like … woah uh. where the fuck did this come from. ur literally built like my pc but with a suit bro ain’t no way right

[daywalker-rr]

i made a preciousmetal fic lol

[phoenixtakaramono]

Take your time, there is no rush, I am glad you share your wonderful works of fiction with us.

Thank you, I really appreciate the patience and encouragement! <3

[skyward-floored]

I might be writing something Christmas-y? maybe

[acowardinmordor]

I want something Steddie to start here:

Eddie

I’m sorry. This is the last letter. I know you’d hate me if you found out who I really am, and I don’t want to see that. I don’t want you to know who you’ve been telling your secrets too. You wouldn’t want me to know them. You wouldn’t want to know me.

I’m so so sorry. Goodbye - X

He read it again and again when he got home, but Eddie couldn’t figure out what he’d done or what he’d said that made them end it. Sure, it was only letters, and Eddie didn’t know their name, or what they looked like. He didn’t even have a guess about who it was. A guy. That’s all he knew. But they’d been leaving letters in his locker since the second week of class. Two months in, when Eddie was losing his mind for having no way of replying, his secret writer told him he could leave a letter in a copy of the Hobbit in the school library. Since then, it was every other day, sending, then receiving. A slow motion conversation. It was his third go at his senior year, and the letters were one of the bright points.

The joy of a great campaign session could only stretch so far. His new sheepies were excellent, most of the worst assholes at school had graduated, and even if the teachers hated him, Eddie had taken the classes twice already. He knew what they wanted him to write in their homework.

Other than suffering through the freshmen talking about their beloved idol, Steve Harrington - despite the guy being a loser who was repeating his senior year - his life had been pretty great. The notes made everything a little bit brighter.

And now? Yesterday was sort of horrible, and he'd been excited to pick up the next note this afternoon. Mike caught the flu, and took down Jeff and Gareth. The session was already going to be a one shot, but down that many players, Eddie complained all week that they'd have to cancel entirely. Instead, Dustin dragged Harrington in with him. Horrible. The guy had never played before, and was so awkward and uncomfortable the entire time that it tanked the entire session. Eventually he called time. Ended the one shot without a conclusion. Pretty explicitly explained to Lucas and Dustin why.

Explained to Steve that he should have refused Dustin's demands. That he would never fit in with them. That he knew from the minute the guy walked in, that it was doomed. That there was a reason he hated jocks, and stayed away from them.

His bad mood was made worse by the way that Dustin and Lucas defended their idol, while Harrington himself picked up his things and silently left.

Eddie was so damn excited to pick up X's note, and see whether the guy had gotten the hobbits out of the Shire in Fellowship.

Instead.

[mmeskywalker]

|| finally mine

summary: THEODORE NOTT, your newfound lover after the whole new year’s eve fiasco, is walking you to your dorm after the party. when you get there, you see a new side of him, a caring, yet dominant side... oh, honey, it’s okay, he just wants to show you his love, the love that pours from every fiber of his being for you.

word count: ngl, i didn’t feel like finding out. it’s shorter than part one.

part one: https://www.tumblr.com/mmeskywalker/746406054677692416/new-years-and-blooming-hearts

a/n: this is lowercase intended. i kind of rushed this, so i’m sorry if it’s awful… i’ve had horrible writers block recently.

warnings: smut. rough, but caring theo. praise kink. italian nicknames. italian!theo. a little bit of jealousy.

——————————————————————————

the rain poured around you and theodore, his arms over your heads as he lifted his robe to keep from getting wet. to your not-so-utter surprise, it wasn’t working very well.

“theo, we’re still getting soaked,” you giggled, walking close enough to him to have your head under his arm—which, funnily enough, was protecting you more from the rain than his robe.

theodore shook his head, laughing softly beside you. “no, no, no, bambina, the robe is doing wonders.” he sighed before smiling again, almost as if he was lost in thought.

“i never dreamed i'd be walking you back to your dorm room on new year's eve," theodore remarked, his voice low and playful. "but i'm very glad i am now."

you looked up at him, your eyes reflecting the twinkling lights from the castle as you walked. "me too," you whispered, squeezing his arm gently. the rain continued to fall, but it no longer bothered you. you couldn’t stop smiling due to where the night was ending.

he reluctantly takes the robe off and slides it back on, the wetness no affecting him due to how wet he already was. he’s looking at you as if you were a jewel, and you smile at him. “what?” you asked.

a slow smile spreaded across his face. leaning in closer, his nose brushed against yours as if he were he breathing in your scent. "nothing… it’s just—you are everything to me, soffio," he murmured, his voice low and thick with emotion.

his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your damp hair as he tilted your head gently to the side. "you’re absolutely everything." he repeated, his eyes flickering down to your lips, a hunger burning in their depths. "and i don’t ever want to put you in a position where you think otherwise again," he whispered, before capturing your mouth in a searing kiss that left you breathless. his lips moved against yours with a passion and intensity you'd never felt before, pouring all of his love and desire into that single, perfect moment.

as theodore's lips moved urgently against your own, his hands roamed your curves, holding you close as if he never wanted to let you go.

when he finally pulled back, you were both left breathless, your chests heaving and your cheeks flushed. “come on,” theodore's eyes were dark with desire as he gazed down at you, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "let's get you inside before we catch pneumonia," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

“sounds like a plan,” you chuckled, a sudden desire arousing within you.

he took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers as he led you quickly into the entrance hall of your dormitory. the warmth of the interior was a stark contrast to the chilly rain outside, and you couldn't help but shiver slightly as the door closed behind you.

theodore noticed and immediately wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. "you're freezing, bambina," he said softly, rubbing your arm to try and warm you up. "come on, let's get you to your room."

he guided you upstairs, his steps confident and purposeful. when you reached your door, he turned to face you, his hand still gently rubbing your arm. he looked down at you, his eyes soft and caring. "here we are," he murmured, glancing at the wood panel behind you. “now get inside, bella, i don’t want you catching a cold.”

theodore leaned against the doorframe, his damp chestnut hair falling across his forehead as he gazed down at you with a warm, affectionate smile. his dark green robe clung to his tall, muscular frame, the fabric glistening with raindrops. he reached out, gently tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips lingering on your cheek.

“what about you," you murmured softly, your voice trembling slightly with anticipation, "why don’t you come inside? i don’t want you catching a cold either, teddy. besides, i don't to spend new years alone." you stepped into the room, pulling him gently by the hand.

your voice cracks, almost as if it were a plea. “please, stay with me tonight.”

theodore paused, his eyes widening slightly at your invitation. a slow, worriful look spread across his features as he gazed down at you, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "are you sure, soffio?" he asked softly, a hint of teasing in his low, melodic voice. "because if i come in there, i don’t know if i'll be able to control myself." he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "seeing you with enzo tonight—it drove me crazy.” his other hand slid down to the small of your back, pulling your curves flush against his muscular chest. "cara mia, i yearn for you." his voice was whiny, almost as if he were about to fall to his knees, his gaze intense and filled with a quiet desperation.

“theodore," you breathed out, your eyes darkening with desire as you gazed up at him. "i’m sure. you can ask anyone we know—i've wanted you for so long.”

you slid your hands up his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his damp robe. your fingers curled into the fabric, tugging him closer until your bodies were pressed together, your curves fitting perfectly against the hard planes of his muscular frame.

"please," you whispered, your voice low and filled with longing. "make me yours, theodore. i want to start this new year as your girl, completely and entirely yours, nobody elses." you leaned in, your lips brushing against his jawline as you placed hot, open-mouthed kisses along the column of his throat.

your hands fumbled with the sash of his robe, desperation coursing through your veins as you tried to remove the barrier between your bodies. "please, theodore," you whimpered, your voice high and needy. "i need you so badly, i can't stand it."

“bella— you’re trembling,” his brows etched upward, his large hands squeezing gently at your hips. you moan against his neck, and something inside of him switches. something predatory.

you captured his mouth in a fierce, desperate kiss, your tongue tangling with his own as you poured all of your desire into the embrace. your hands slid beneath his robe, nails raking down his back as you held him close. "fuck me, theodore," you gasped against his lips. "i’m sorry for being so straight forward—but please, fuck me like you mean it, like you'll never let me go."

theodore groaned deeply as your nails dug into his back, his hips surging forward to grind his hardening length against your core. "if you keep begging like that, bella," he growled, his voice low and rough with desire. "…i don’t know what i’ll do."

“me,” you press yourself against him, your palm feeling his hard erection through his pants. “do me, make me yours, please.”

theodore's eyes flashed with a primal hunger at your desperate pleas, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "y/n, you have no idea what you're asking for," he whimpered, his hands grabbing at your hips. "if we do this, i won't be able to hold back. i'll take you in ways you've never been taken before.”

he leaned down, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your throat as he spoke. "i've wanted you for so long, bellissima. watched you with other men, imagining all the things i would do to you, how i would claim this body as mine."

theodore's grip tightened, fingers digging into the flesh of your rear as he grinded his hardening bulge against your core. "if we start this, you're mine. no turning back,” he warned, voice dropping an octave.

“i want this,” you say, surprised but not upset at his complete change in demeanor.

at that, he threw off his robe, letting it fall to the floor as he revealed his toned, muscular body to your hungry gaze. he captured your hands, pinning them above your head as he settled between your thighs, the hard length of his cock pressing insistently against your clothed sex.

it was almost as if all he needed was your approval before flipping the switch.

"i'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll be feeling it for days," he promised darkly, his hips rolling in a slow, teasing grind against yours. "i'm going to claim this pretty pussy as mine, make it mine in every way possible."

“please, theo,” you moaned, the sight of him and his dominance making you drip with desire.

he tugged your leggings and panties down your legs, tossing them aside carelessly. his fingers delved between your thighs, stroking through your slick folds, feeling your wetness. "so fucking wet for me already," he purred, his fingers circling your clit.

theodore's fingers have already slipped inside you, pumping in and out of your soaked entrance. his thumb rubbed firm circles around your clit, making your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for more. "please, theodore," you whimpered, your voice high and needy, "i need your cock inside me, i need you to fill me up."

he chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "so impatient, amore mio. don't worry, i'll give you what you need." he withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips to suck your juices clean. "mmm, you taste so good, soffio."

he undid his trousers, freeing his hard, thick cock. it jerked against his stomach, long and heavy, the swollen head already leaking with arousal. "look at what you do to me, bella," he said softly, wrapping a hand around his length and stroking slowly. "look how hard you make me, how much i need to be inside you."

theodore's eyes darkened as he watched you watch him stroke his thick cock. "no one could ever love you the way i do, soffio," he murmured, his voice low and intense. "not lorenzo, not anyone else." his hand tightened around his length, pumping faster as he held your gaze. "i've known you for so long, been by your side through everything. i know every part of you, inside and out." he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. "i know how to make you feel pleasure beyond what anyone else could even imagine. you're mine, and you always will be."

he positioned himself at your entrance, the thick head of his cock nudging against your slick folds. "tell me you know it too, amore mio," he demanded, his voice rough with desire. "tell me you know that no one could ever fuck you like i can, could ever make you feel as good as i do." he rolled his hips, teasing you with the promise of being filled. "say it, soffio. i want to hear you say it."

you reached up, cupping his chiseled jaw in your palm as you traced the sharp lines of his face with your fingertips. "i've never wanted anyone as much as i want you," you confessed softly, your voice trembling with emotion. "i've never felt this way about anyone before." you brushed your thumb across his bottom lip, your breath mingling with his own. "please, theodore. please make me yours, completely and entirely. i need you to fuck me like you mean it, like you'll never let me go. please—you’re the only one who could ever make me feel good, baby, please.”

theodore's eyes flashed with a primal hunger at your words, a possessive gleam that sent shivers down your spine. "that's my girl," he praised softly, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

theo's grin widened, showing off his perfect white teeth as he gazed down at you with a newfound intensity. "you're perfect, you know that? such a good girl, so eager to give yourself to me completely."

his hand slid up your side, cupping your breast and squeezing gently as he rolled his hips, teasing your entrance with his thick length. "i can feel how much you want it, how desperate you are to be filled by me. your little pussy is gripping my cock so tightly already, begging to be stretched and filled."

theo leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "you have a praise kink, don't you, amore mio? you love hearing me tell you how good and perfect you are while i fuck this sweet cunt." he nipped at your earlobe before soothing it with his tongue. "don't worry, bella. i'm going to praise you the whole time, let you know just how amazing you are as i claim this pussy as mine."

you couldn’t help the way your eyes rolled back.

theo rolled his hips again, the head of his cock popping inside your tight entrance. "you're going to be screaming my name in no time, begging me to fuck you harder and deeper.”

a breathy whimper escaped your lips as theodore’s praise washed over you, your body trembling with anticipation and desire. "theo," you gasped, your voice high and needy as you clung to him desperately. "please, i need—fuck!" your hips jerked as he pushed forward, your walls clenching greedily around his thick length as it stretched you open.

"oh fuck, you're so big," you mewled, your thighs quivering around his waist. tears of pleasure pricked at the corners of your eyes as you gazed up at him, your irises hazy and unfocused.

theodore’s eye lit up, the way you screamed for him making him almost cum on the spot.

your fingers dug into his back, nails raking down his skin as you tried to pull him closer, to feel more of his weight pressing down on you. "more," you whimpered pitifully, your voice breaking on the word. "please, theo, more. i need it, i need you so badly."

you arched your back, pressing your aching breasts against his chest as you wrapped your legs around his waist. your body was a live wire of sensation, every nerve ending screaming with the need to be touched.

theodore groaned deeply as your walls clenched vice-like around his throbbing cock, your desperate whimpers spurring on his desire. "fuck, listen to you, so needy and greedy for my dick," he growled, his hips surging forward to bury himself balls-deep inside your tight heat. "such a good girl, taking me so deep already."

he paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of your walls fluttering around his length. he leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he whispered against them. "you're doing so well, amore mio. taking my cock like you were made for it."

his hand slid down to your ass, squeezing the firm globe as he started to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside you before slamming back in, setting a hard and fast pace. "this is what you needed, isn't it? to be split open on your best friend’s thick cock, fucked so hard you forget your own name?"

he angled his hips, hitting that special spot inside you with every deep thrust. "i'm going to ruin you for anyone else, soffio. no one will ever make you feel as good as i can."

theodore could feel your body tensing, your walls starting to flutter and clench around his pistoning length. "that's it, baby. fuck, you're getting close already, aren't you?" he groaned, his thrusts becoming harder and more urgent as he chased your impending release. "come on, amore mio. i want to feel this pretty little pussy spasm around my cock as you scream my name."

he slid a hand between your bodies, his fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub. "cum for me, y/n. let go and give yourself to me completely. i know you need it, baby. i can feel how badly you want it."

theodore's hips snapped forward, driving into you with a force that rocked your entire body. "do it, y/n. scream my name and cum on my cock like a good girl. show me who this pussy belongs to."

your body started to tremble, your walls clenching desperately around theodore's pistoning length as you teetered on the brink of ecstasy. "theodore!" you cried out, your voice raw and desperate as you clung to him for dear life.

your hips jerked and bucked wildly beneath him, meeting his every powerful thrust as you raced towards your climax. "i’m cumming—i’m cumming!" you sobbed, your entire being consumed with the all-encompassing need to let go.

theodore's fingers worked furiously over your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "that's it, y/n. let it happen. give yourself to me, all of yourself," he commanded, his voice a low, dominant rumble. "i want to feel your cum dripping down my cock as you scream my name in pure bliss."

his hips slammed into yours one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he growled, "cum, y/n. now."

your body convulsed, your inner walls clenching like a vice around theo’s throbbing cock as your orgasm crashed over you. "theo!" you screamed, your voice echoing off the walls as wave after wave of intense pleasure consumed you.

your vision went white, stars exploding behind your eyelids as you shook and trembled beneath him, completely at the mercy of your overwhelming climax. "fuck, fuck!" you chanted mindlessly, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth as you surrendered to the blissful agony of your release.

your thighs clamped around his waist, holding him deep inside you as your pussy spasmed and fluttered around his length, milking him for all he was worth. tears streamed down your face, sobs of ecstasy wracking your chest as you rode out the intense high, your body wracked with the force of your orgasm.

theodore slowed his thrusts, his hips gently rocking into yours as he let you ride out your high, his hands stroking over your trembling body soothingly. "shhh, that's it. that's my good girl," he murmured, pressing soft kisses to your face, catching your tears with his lips. "you did so well, baby. so perfect."

when your shudders finally subsided, he carefully pulled out of you, hissing softly at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around his sensitive cock. he gently rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were curled up against his chest, your head pillowed on his bicep.

his fingers combed through your sweat-dampened hair, brushing it back from your face as he gazed down at you with a soft, tender smile. "are you okay, baby? that was... intense," he said softly, a note of concern in his voice. "i didn't hurt you, did i?”

you looked up at theodore, your eyes hazy but filled with warmth and affection. a small, blissful smile tugged at your kiss-swollen lips as you shook your head, nuzzling into his chest. "no, not at all," you murmured, your voice hoarse from screaming his name. "that was... amazing. better than amazing."

you traced patterns on his chest with your fingertips, marveling at the way his muscles jumped beneath your touch.

theodore's eyes softened as he gazed down at your blissed out expression, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "you're incredible, you know that?" he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. "i've wanted you for so long. not sexually, just… as a whole.”

theodore gazed deeply into your eyes, his own filled with a tender, loving adoration he had never before allowed himself to show.

theodore gazed deeply into your eyes, his own filled with a tender, loving adoration he had never before allowed himself to show. "i've fallen in love with you, y/n," he confessed softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "not just as a friend, or even just as a lover. i'm in love with all of you—your brilliant mind, your kind heart, your stunning beauty inside and out." he cupped your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin as he held your gaze captive. "i couldn’t be more grateful to call myself your boyfriend.”

you felt your heart skip a beat at theodore's heartfelt confession, a warmth spreading through your chest that had nothing to do with the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. "theo," you breathed out, your eyes shining with unshed tears of happiness. "i... i love you too. so much."

you leaned up, pressing your forehead against his as you gazed at him with a soft, loving smile. "i never thought i could feel this way about anyone. especially not someone i've known for so long." you chuckled softly, shaking your head in amazement. "but here we are. and i couldn't be happier."

you snuggled closer to him, draping your leg over his waist as you traced his jawline with your fingertips. "you're not just my boyfriend, theodore. you're my best friend. the person i trust most in the world." you leaned in, brushing your lips softly against his in a tender kiss.

theodore gazed deeply into your eyes, his heart racing as he drank in the sight of your blissful, loving expression. "i feel the same way about you," he murmured, a note of wonder in his voice. "especially not my best friend." he smiled softly, shaking his head in amazement. "and i am so grateful that i don’t have to hide it anymore."

[theesteppenwolf]

More Lucanis rambles because I’m still thinking about it and got nothing better to do :P

I am not here to tell anyone how to feel but putting words into peoples mouths who criticize the Lucanis romance (or Lucanis in general) for being unsatisfactory by saying;

“You don’t know what a slow burn is/ it’s because you expected zevran / you don’t get it he’s traumatized/ you just wanted something spicy and didn’t get it so now you’re mad” etc.

Is completely disregarding the fact that his lack of reactions and lack of content actually led people to believe he is bugged. Most DA fans didn’t expect spice or steam or whatever but they did expect an effective story, one they didn’t get.

This is at the end of the day a visual storytelling medium and implication will only get you so far, if i have to start thinking up entire plotlines in my head to make sense of the story or relationship progression then they failed at good storytelling. If i have to write paragraphs of explanations that the game doesn’t even remotely touch on then that isn’t a slow burn, it’s just a lack of content and poor pacing.

If he is traumatized and reluctant because of it you have to give me a scene where i can actually read that. If he is awkward and doesn’t know how to react to flirting you have to exaggerate to an extent for people to tell. If there is longing and angst give me banter that reflects it.

A romance in a game should give me some kind of deeper personal insight into a character and if i have to do the writers job and in my head think up those insights then the actual romance is mostly moot. I’m not saying give me all the details i’m saying at the very least give me a jumping point, some info buried in the game i won’t get otherwise. His romance fails at this.

Mary Kirby was fired yes and it’s awful what happened but unfortunately the product still remains and it leaves a lot to be desired for a big amount of people. When players are straight up going back on saves to romance someone else it’s a real problem. For me, it soured my first playthrough, especially later when i saw how Davrin and Emmrich had content, convos, specific romance outings and at the bare minimum actually had a noticeable reaction to flirting dialogue.

Again I’m not telling anyone how to feel, if it works for you that’s awesome, but to disregard his obvious lack of content by calling other fans basically stupid is incredibly disingenuous.

I love his character, loved it since The Wigmakers Job and he is still my favorite after my first playthrough. I think the beginning of his romance was very promising and the end is great but everything else is missing I’m sorry. His romance was not well executed and i honestly don’t think his character really was either. (But i won’t vent about that right now)

I know what a slow burn is, i was not expecting Zevran, i did not want a steamy romance. I wanted a well executed story and i didn’t get one. I am critical because i think it could’ve been great, i still love the game and i am not shitting on it, his character or other fans i just hate wasted potential.

[bluejutdae]

Dom han... him being your bff and like being all touchy with him,and him being a literal girlfriend for you till you realize he is more manly then you thought let him fuck my brains out pls💕...DOM HAN JISUNG BRAINROT FOR ME YALL

-🫶 a request from me perheaps?...😃❤️❤️

Sometimes I can’t let go of an idea, so here’s soft dom Ji. Very soft, but you know that think about writers not being in control of their stories? Yeah. That.

Happy belated birthday, love 🫶

Posting without much editing because I am very tired and I have a wedding to attend to tomorrow. Sorry for any mistakes.

You and Jisung have been dating for about a month, after an eternity of flirting. Despite all the dates, the movies spent cuddling and your hands constantly on him, you still haven’t had sex. You both agreed on waiting. It wasn’t a question of inexperience, but more of a mutual understanding that you wanted to build a solid relationship first.

Tonight is just another night in which you’ve been invited to watch a movie with all the members. You love seeing Jisung surrounded by his friends, he’s always particularly happy, completely in his element. He’s so calm and relaxed, you spent the last 30 minutes braiding his hair and playing with it.

Seungmin’s voice is louder than the tv’s when he says, “is he always this soft or is it just when he’s with her?” They all laugh and everyone adds his own comment on the matter. The only non-teasing one comes from Felix and you. You know your boyfriend is a soft boy, you never had a problem with that. Jisung grins, pulling you close and kissing the top of your head. “Don’t you wish to know?” he teases back and makes a show of sticking his tongue out to Seungmin. But when he turns back to look at you, there’s something in his eyes, something you haven’t seen before, that sends a shiver down your spine, and makes your pussy clench. What the fuck was that?

The rest of the night passes uneventfully, but you can’t shake the feeling that you awoke some beast or something. Something that was simmering just below the surface.

When the night ends and you both return to the quiet of your tiny apartment, the playful atmosphere from earlier seems to be just a distant memory. Your usual sweet and cute boyfriend is not looking at you with a new expression, with something you can only describe as lust.

“Do you think that, too?” He asks in a low voice.

“Think what?”

“What Seungmo said earlier, that I’m soft.” As he says that, he removes his rings, putting them in the pockets of his jeans.

You swallow, suddenly feeling very aware of the quiet of the night surrounding you, the only light really illuminating the room is the one from the streetlights, penetrating through your windows. “I mean- you are soft with me.”

“I am, am I?” He steps closer and he’s now just a few feet from you and you seem to be frozen, with your ass against the kitchen counter. “You know that’s not all there is about me. Right?”

“I mean-” there have been instances in which you think you saw something less soft and more… horny. But you thought it was just that: arousal. Yes, you decided to wait, but it doesn’t mean either of you ever wanted more. And just as some night ended with you with your hands inside your underwear, imagining your fingers were Jisung’s, you expect some of his ended in a similar way. “I don’t really know?”

The intensity of his gaze sends a thrill through you. He finally closes the distance and uses his fingers to tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“Do you want to find out?”

Your nod is all that he needs before pulling you to him to kiss you. The kiss is a demanding one, nothing like the lighter kisses you are used to. His hands grips your waist, pulling you against him even more. When he pulls back (not without a complaining noise from you) his breath is warm against your ear. “I’ve been wanting so much to have you.”

You make it to your bedroom, mouth or hands never leaving the other’s skin, shedding clothes during the slow march. Contrary to so many other times you kissed him, there’s a certainty in his movements, a loud confidence that makes your skin hot and your pussy wet.

His hands slide up your sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, and he guides you down on your bed. He follows you down, covers you with his body and kisses you again, softer this time. “You’re so fucking beautiful” he says on your lips, and then starts his slow and maddening way down your neck and towards your chest. His mouth, hot and wet against your skin, is perfect. Every now and then his teeth graze your skin, making you moan. When he finally reaches your tits you hold your breath, anticipating the wet hot sensation of his mouth, but he smirks and makes you wait, teasing you. “Is my baby impatient?” Before you can answer he takes your nipple into his mouth, lightly pinching the other between his fingers.

He gives your tits his whole attention, alternating between sucking and gently biting, pinching and massaging. After yet another request of speeding things up, he begins to move lower. His hands trace the lines of your waist and your hips, ending their descent on your thighs, gently spreading them apart. “Look at you. You look so good I could eat you alive.”

“Sungie.” He smirks again, one raised eyebrow pressing you to ask for what you want. But his mouth and hands made a mess of your brain, so you just beg again in the form of his name. He chuckles at your behavior. “Already such a mess? Be patient, my baby”

He lowers his face to nips at the soft flesh of your inner thigh, following with his tongue in lieu of an apology. When his mouth finally gets on your pussy and Jisung starts to eat you out like a starving man, you let out a loud moan and your hands grip the sheets as his tongue flicks out and presses on your clit.

He finds a rhythm and your pleasure builds and builds with every stroke of his tongue. You push his hair away from his eyes and his eyes are set on you. Anytime he sucks on your clit you let out a loud and filthy moan, so he keeps on doing it until you cum, one hand gripping the sheets and the other in his hair, pulling a little (a lot) making him moan around your most sensitive nerves. He keeps working his mouth through every aftershock until you are boneless, panting beneath him and blabbering nonsense.

He pulls back and travels his way back to your lips with his. The kiss tastes of you and him, and it’s heady. He chuckles when you compliment him, blushing like he didn’t just eat you out like a starving man. “Everything for my girl.”

The night is still young for you two, and as you get ready to repay the favor, you feel your love for him grow a little. Waiting for this was worth the wait.

His voice breaks through your thinking, stained with arousal and something else. “You’re mine, you know that?”

You nod, lips kissing his skin, getting close to his hard cock inch by inch. “Yeah. And you’re mine.”

[gracieheartspedro]

i bet on losing dogs

pairing: ellie williams x reader

post about palestine - please be aware and know who your content comes from. this post informs you about the tlou writers and creators, as well as how to help the Palestinian people.

description: a slow progression of how you lost ellie.

word count: 3.7k words

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader is in a relationship with ellie, only angst, small mentions of intimacy, descriptions of violence, mentions of blood, ellie is grieving big time, ellie trauma dumps, ellie gets hurt, reader is described to be scarred and disfigured after seattle, reader is scared of ellie, dark themes in general.

author’s note: just know this was sitting in my docs for a while cause I had a hard time sticking with the grief I felt writing it. I finished it a couple weeks ago and just kept rereading it. I can't keep looking at it anymore. have it. i'm sorry in advance.

Her bed was made. 

That’s the first thing you noticed when you crept into her space. The snow had been piled in front of the door, indicating that no one had come or left. Your boots dusted snow across her old oriental-looking rug. Her back was turned to you.

She looks so small. Her hair is greasy, tousled up in a small bun at the base of her head. She was wearing the same clothes you left her in the day before. 

“Els?”

She turns to you, not stunned, just a bit disoriented. Her eyebrows are furrowed the second her eyes meet yours.

“I thought I told you that I want to be alone.”

The statement crushes you. You inhale deeply, trying to relieve the heaviness on your chest. 

You shake your head, “I’m sorry, I can’t watch you rot in this room anymore.”

She's quick with her rebuttal. “If you would have listened, you wouldn’t have to watch. Just leave me alone.”

But you physically cannot. You have spent days pacing your house, thinking about her withering away in her detached garage. You try to sleep, but you know she’s not, so how could you? 

And you had this bitterness in your mouth all the time now. After walking into that room in the ski lodge and seeing her and Joel bloodied and battered, you cannot get the metallic taste to go away. Everything you ate tasted like it. 

“Ellie-“

“Please, I don’t want to talk.”

Her voice is shaky. You notice she’s picking at her cuticles again, they are red and irritated. She finally changed out of the socks that were partially soaked with blood. 

It had been three days since Joel was taken from her. 

You try to hold your ground, blinking back some tears that slip when she approaches you and takes your arm. She’s guiding you to the door, grabbing the handle. When the door creaks open, you snatch your arm away. You are trying to be patient, but this was the second time she was trying to throw you out. She had done the same to Maria and Tommy the day after Joel died.

“I thought you were fuckin’ dead, Ellie.”

You promised yourself you would not burden her with your emotions. But you could not help it anymore. 

“What?”

She shuts the door, letting more cold air seep into the frigid room. She shifts onto her other heel, crossing her arms. It’s a physical way of blocking out your emotions, a gesture that is so subtle and probably absent of intention. 

“I can’t lose you, too, okay?”

Her eyes finally find yours, “You’re not gonna-”

You reach out to her, pulling her hand out of the crook of her arm. “I am here, okay? I am right here.”

She uses the leverage of you grabbing her hand to reel you into a hug. As soon as your chin rests on her shoulder, she’s dead weight in your arms. It’s like a release that you have been waiting for. She starts to cry, the air escaping her lungs as she heaves to let out another sob. You just hold her, the anxiety of leaving her alone for the last three days now escaping you. You finally felt like you were doing something for her. 

She grips onto you like you're the axis to keep her world spinning. Her whole life depended on the feeling of your body around her. 

You sat with her for a whole day in silence. Not saying anything; just waiting for her to say the word. You knew what was next for Ellie.

She was going to get revenge. 

-

Your shirt was stained with blood and sweat. You told yourself the next department store you saw, you would hunt down a 20-year-old shirt to replace it. 

You were exhausted. You could hardly keep up with Ellie the last mile back to the theater. It was only the second day of trying to hunt down this crew Ellie was hell-bent on destroying. Two days in Seattle and you two have discovered a lot without having any initial leads when you arrived. 

And you did not fault her for being so aggressive, but after the things you saw today, you’re starting to wonder if this was really what she needs. Her malicious and unhinged behavior was beginning to frighten you a bit. 

It started when you entered an abandoned hotel. A couple of infected got taken down by your bullets, but when other non-infected people came running your way, you hesitated. You saw the looks of confusion on their faces when they saw you and Ellie. While you stood and held their gazes, Ellie raised her rifle and executed each one of them without even flinching. The shots were louder than you remember, echoing off the walls peeling of wallpaper. 

Then today, you both arrived at an old elementary school. You were caught up with holding off a couple of people in a long hallway. You yelled for Ellie to wait it out, wanting the people to charge you so you could take them out, but instead, she lit up the entire hallway. When the last person came running at her with a baseball bat, she dodged them and shoved her blade right into their necks. You watched her twist it and rip it out the side, their blood splattering all over the wall. When the man collapsed, she simply tucked her weapon into her sheath and kept moving. It was so brutal and unnecessary, but she kept telling you they deserved it. 

She found who she had been looking for. A girl named Nora. You were in charge of keeping watch while she got intel from her. You heard most of the conversation, but when you heard the sounds of metal clinging, you stepped away from the door. You had to resist the urge not to run in there and stop the torture, but your feet were stuck to the concrete. You did not move, you did not dare. 

She is now digging dirt and blood out of her fingernails with her blade, trying not to accidentally knick herself. Her auburn fringe covers her forehead, greasy from sweat. She is still covered in blood, but you two have not said much since you arrived back. 

She went too far and she knows it scared you. But frankly, she did not care. This was necessary. 

“Els?” You snap her out of her trance-like daze. She has not said anything in about an hour. Your voice is soft and so is your touch on her shoulder. You want to try to pick her brain, something you have been unsuccessful at doing the last couple of weeks.

She winces. 

“Yeah?” She utters. A bit of phlegm in the back of her throat makes her sound hoarse. 

“Can you please let me check on you? Just take off your coat.”

Your hand is still on her shoulder. She does not respond or move, so you take it as she’s submitting to your request. You grab the collar of her rain jacket and slowly start to drag it down her shoulder. She’s still not saying anything. 

You wished you could read her mind. It would make your relationship with her way easier. After two years, you would think she would be better about sharing her feelings, but she mostly left you to interpret her body language. You got good at reading it for a while. But then Joel died. And now she is a silent and bitter ball of rage. Anything you thought you knew about her has fallen to the wayside. 

You slowly take off her layers of clothing, being sure to avoid touching the wounds that have made her skin their new home. 

The one on her shoulder was pretty bad, you think to yourself, she better let me stitch her up. 

“I think we need to surprise them at night,” She states, her voice a bit robotic. You just bite the inside of your lip and nod. She was making all the plans, you just had to go along with it.

“Okay,” You whisper, grabbing a medical kit nearby. You made sure to pack it back in Jackson and it came in handy more than once already.

“Do you even want to know what happened earlier?”

Your heart sinks. You do not want to know what happened. You knew she got what she needed from the girl, but you truly did not know if you wanted to hear the details. The idea that Ellie did more than just beat her makes you physically sick. If she could do that to a stranger, what was she going to do when she got her hands on her? You were not innocent in the chase. But your heart always skipped when you had to pull your trigger at another human being. It was not easy to watch life leave someone’s eyes. But for Ellie it was different. She acted like they were just things. Inanimate objects that needed to be pushed out of the way. You never saw her eyes change when she took a life. 

You grab the needle from the med kit and a nearby lighter before settling on the couch beside Ellie. Her shoulder blade is covered by all the blood creating new dark maroon freckles. 

You tilt her shoulder back to better look at it before finally responding. 

“Didn’t think you wanted to talk about it.”

You know that’s not the answer she wanted. Her shoulders fall forward and she places her face in her hands. She lets out a long sigh, disregarding you as you try to patch her up. She quickly turns around to look at you. 

Her eyes are dark, her lips pursed. 

“I got her to talk. She paid with her life.”

You want to see your Ellie, but whoever sits before you is a stranger. 

You did not want to think about Ellie killing a girl by violently beating her. It seemed so personal and evil. You decide there’s no answer worth saying to her confession, so you just turn her back around and begin your slow, tedious stitching.

Once you finish off the last suture, you stand and bring over a bowl filled with rainwater the night before. You were going to use it for drinking, but you decide it’s better to use it to clean around Ellie’s battered body.

You grab a rag from your pack and dip it in the chilled water. You ring it out and bring it to your stitch work. She is shaking now, but you are so scared to hold her in your arms. 

“The night before Joel… we got into that big fight. I was so fuckin’ mad at him. I went to his house to confront him again.”

She heaves and you know tears are spilling from those beautiful green eyes. “Ellie-“

“I told him I was going to try to forgive him for all the shit he did. I should’ve…” 

You drop the red-stained cloth into the bowl and pull her back into your chest. She’s sobbing, her entire body shaking as you finally accept her into your space. 

Before you knew Ellie, you knew Joel. You did not understand their relationship, but you knew it was fractured. Joel never talked badly about her, only reminding everyone around him how proud he was of her. Whenever he caught you around the stables, he would ask if you were still hanging out with her. You would always blush and reply quickly, “Yes, of course”. He would smile and tell you how grateful he was to see she had a friend like you. 

You loved Ellie. You loved her with every fiber of your being. She helped you through a lot of your grief when you arrived in Jackson. She held you through countless nights when you cried about losing your dad. You never thought you would have to do the same for her. Everyone, including you, thought Joel Miller was indestructible. 

“Ellie, how were you supposed to know?” You ask softly before gently pressing a kiss in the middle of her back. You had never kissed her there before.

“How am I supposed to live with that?”

She was hurting so badly. Her violent heart has finally had enough. 

“You learn how to manage it.”

It was the only way you pulled through. Grief is love expressing itself through other means. When you lost your dad, it was not violent. He was sick and his body was so beaten down, he had no chance of surviving the disease taking over his body. Your grief was managed by reminding yourself that you had to keep living for him because if not, you would be disappointing him. You did not know if heaven was real, but you did believe in energy, and you felt him sometimes especially when you needed him the most. 

Ellie’s grief was different. It was forceful and unyielding. She could not let the hatred go and you did not particularly blame her. She watched Joel get beaten so badly that his face was almost unrecognizable. She had to watch a random woman take him away from her, forever. You could not compare your grief, but you did know that with time, she would know how to better manage it. She just could not get over the contempt for others who wronged her. It was embedded within her to seek out retribution. 

She cried a bit, letting out a long sigh. “The only way I see it is if I give those people an ounce of violence they showed Joel in his final moments, I will be at peace.”

You knew the truth. There was no peace in situations like this. But were you going to tell Ellie that? No, you were not. You traveled hundreds of miles for her to do what she felt was necessary. And while you did not agree with all of her actions, you had been complacent. You were no better than any other person with a violent and impulsive lover. You enabled this journey to come to fruition, so you had to take accountability. 

You stand up so you can face her. Her gaze has softened now and she almost looks like the same girl who confessed her feelings to you at the Harvest Festival two years ago. A little bit older, aged with the falling away of time, but still beautiful and vulnerable. Her green eyes sparkled differently, but your Ellie was still there somewhere. 

“Okay, baby.” That is all you could say. “We will finish it.”

-

When you come back to consciousness, your vision is fuzzy. You are completely disoriented, but you know you are face down on the concrete. You start to feel around for something familiar, not sure if your gun or knife is nearby. You felt defenseless.

“Ellie?” You croak out. As soon as you talk, you can feel blood dribbling down your throat. You hear stirring beside you and your blood runs cold. Is that her?

You lift your hand to rub whatever is in your eyes out. Dirt? Mud? When you look at your hands, you get confirmation that it’s blood. You’re covered in it. 

The movement gets closer and you look to your right and see Ellie’s battered body slowly stumbling towards you. Panic rises within you, unsure if she was mortally wounded or not. She collapses beside you, sitting up partially. She reaches for your hand and you realize that you can hardly move your foot to try to push yourself upwards. Everything hurt. 

“Baby, I’m here.” She finally says. Your worry subsides for a moment as you try to sit up. 

“Are you hurt?” You cry out as you press yourself upwards, the pain in your foot shooting up your leg. It’s almost the worst pain you’ve ever been in. You can hardly breathe once contort yourself to settle next to Ellie’s practically limp body. 

“Yeah, but I can walk.”

You finally remember why you’re in this room. You try to scan the room, but the dimmed lighting and blood in your eyes isn’t helping. “Is Abby dead?” 

The silence tells you the answer but you just look over at Ellie. She has blood pouring out of her nose and it trickles down her neck. 

“She got away.”

-

Every day after Abby got away was completely different. When you arrive at the farmhouse on the hill, you hope to see your old Ellie again, and sometimes you do. 

When the golden light trickled between the leaves in the forest and you two bask in the rays as you forage for berries, you tell a stupid joke and her laugh is guttural. She belly laughs and tells you that you’re so “dumb” before she wraps her arms around your waist and presses a kiss into your temple. 

But then there was nighttime. When she finally fell asleep and you would stay up with a candle burning to read, she was ravaged by nightmares. She usually couldn’t escape them, so you would throw your book on the side table and hold her tightly so she could come back to reality. 

The day would break and she would bring you up some breakfast in bed. She was terrible at cooking, but no one can really mess up scrambled eggs. She would serve them to you with a big goofy grin and long kisses. 

Intimacy was few and far between, but you knew not to press it too much. Every time she would touch you in that way, she was meticulous and very generous. You would try to return the favor and she would shrivel up and tell you that she was okay. It made you feel some type of way, but after the fifth time it happened, you realized it was because she did not feel in tune with herself in that way. 

You told her that she was beautiful every day. No matter what she was doing, or how she looked, whenever the thought entered your mind, you would say it out loud. Her response was always, “No, you.”

After a year of domesticity, you woke up one night to the sound of rustling downstairs and an empty bed. When Ellie did have a bad nightmare, she would occasionally go downstairs and sit on the front porch. But it was a chilly night and you knew better. 

The day before Tommy made an unexpected visit and made an already awkward interaction absolutely deplorable. He had to bring up her and blame Ellie for the outcome of the Seattle event. The entire situation led to you forcing him off the property and telling him to never come back with that bullshit. 

It was a subject you and Ellie never discussed after leaving those city limits. She told you she was done, that it was all over. You would never fight her on it, especially because you knew it was really over. There was no way you would be going after someone who almost killed you and disfigured you. Every time you looked in a mirror, you were forced to see the scars that littered your cheeks and forehead. A sick reminder of the bitter fight between you two. 

You slowly walk downstairs, seeing Ellie’s figure in the kitchen. She has her backpack on the floor, loading a gun into the side pocket. 

“What are you doing?” You ask bluntly. She turns around and you take note of her outfit. A couple of layers. A large brown jacket, jeans, and her Converse. She was going somewhere.

She looks at you, tears already welling in her eyes. 

“Babe…”

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. “Where are you going?”

You creep up to her slowly, your bare feet creaking across the hardwood. 

She’s a foot away when she finally puts her hands out to stop you from coming closer. 

“I… I think Tommy is right.”

If it was possible for someone to rip out your heart without opening up your chest, it was happening to you right now. This would be the worst pain. 

“Right about what?” You manage as a whisper. 

She takes in a long breath, “About Abby. About going after her.”

“No… Ellie, he’s not right.” 

You try to move closer, but she takes a step back. She’s treating you like you are infected. But even that would not matter, she’s Ellie. 

It makes you feel every negative emotion when she says the words, “I need to finish this. I told you… I told you I wouldn’t be at peace until I-”

“So why did we even come back, Ellie? How is this fucking fair to me?”

“You wanted to. We… we were fucked up. We didn’t have a chance.”

“And you think you do now?!”

She shakes her head, almost appalled by your statement. “I wasn’t broken like you were.”

You close your lids tightly, unsure how you could even look her in the eyes. Your fingernails are digging into your palms. You had this feeling for a while. An unsettled force that would occasionally bloom in the pit of your stomach when you watched Ellie. You would remind yourself that it’s over. The plot for revenge was buried deep in the ground. 

So when she stands in front of you, ready to take off, you feel like you can’t breathe.

“Ellie, if you go, I will never forgive you. I will not wait for you.”

She’s silent, contemplating even for a moment. She has this look of determination. She has already made up her mind. “That’s your choice.”

She starts to pick up the bag, but you make one more silent plea before watching your life walk out the back door. You grab her hand quickly, stopping her from taking any steps. 

“I thought you fuckin’ loved me, Ellie. I thought you said we were done.” You sob out,  “You think Joel would want this for you? Do you really think he would want you to walk out that door?”

Deep down, you know that Joel would have gone to the ends of the earth for Ellie, especially if the roles were reversed. But he would also want her to have a life after him. And you were more sure of that than the latter.

She pulls her wrist away from your grasp. A look of pure betrayal playing across her features. You had not spoken his name in months. It sounds like a curse word to her coming from you. “You don’t know what he would want.”

“And you do?” 

“He would have done the same for me.”

And she leaves. You think back to the first words she said to you when you entered her room over a year ago. 

“I thought I told you that I want to be alone.”

And now she would be.

-

[shayasay]

2024 tbhk x reader writers gang UP !!!! I'd like to request for Teru, Akane, and Lemon x reader who's very...open? Like they have a out of pocket humour, says the most inappropriate jokes in the wrong time (the sc president/teacher almost caught them 😔) and isn't afraid to be chaotic. Being with them somehow never becomes boring because theres always some shit going on (like almost falling off a building or getting involved with the cops) BOY are they special. Just Akane is fine if you dont feel like writing for 3 people but either way thank you v much🙏

(Extra scenes:

Akane: how to get red dye?

Reader: idk period blood

Akane: *jaw drops to the floor*

--------

Reader: *telling the wildest inappropriate gossip ever*

Teru who heard and is standing right behind them:

-------

Lemon and reader: *had a 1 hour deep talk with lemon sitting on a bench*

Reader, about to leave: oh and btw, that bench was newly painted *walks away*

HIII YES OF COURSEEEEE I HOPE THIS IS OKAY I really tried my best on it! And I wrote this at 2 am I hope this satisfies 😭🩷

————————————————————————

With a reader who makes out of pocket jokes

Featuring: Akane, Lemon and Teru!

Akane

- Blushes when you say something inappropriate towards him no questions asked

- This one time he was teaching how to make origami and you said something inappropriate

- He paused for a good minute and scared at you, gawking with wide eyes and blushing

- “Okay so you’re gonna wanna fold this part here” “Shit I wish I was that piece of paper so you could fold me” “…I’m sorry?”

- There be times where you would just ask him questions, questions such as for example what part of the day was his favourite

- “Akane question?” “Shoot” “what time of day is your favourite?” “night time!” “Great so me, you, tonight, in my bed.” “…”

- he blushed and tried to say something but literally failed, he stuttered so much he just honestly gave up.

- Like sometimes you whisper things in his ear n he’d just stare and gawk at you in disbelief

- You toyed with him once while he was speaking to Teru and he tried so hard to not blush or make it look like he was flustered

- News flash, he failed.

- Teru was laughing at his ass afterwards

- or times where you were whispering the most jaw dropping shit into his ear and Teru heard it all and saw he’s reaction as well

- Teru never let him live it DOWN

Teru

- Will stare at you in disbelief and will quite literally say “I beg your pardon?”

- He once was painting something for the school with a bucket of white paint and to make things worse it fell on him

- He called you and asked you for help

- and what did you say? “Teru is that cu-“ “Get out.” “WAIT IM SORRY”

- There’s been so many times where you whispered the most jaw dropping shit into his ear and his giving you the biggest “I’m sorry?” ass look

- You actually told him some good ass drama and he listened to the whole thing while even gawked here n there because of the OUTRAGEOUS things he’s been hearing

- He’s lowkey willing to give Akane his work load just to here the things you tell him

- “Psst… Teru.” “Hm?” “Are you a trampoline? Because I’d really like to bounce on you.”

- *Queue you sprinting out the room as he’s at his desk so lost at weither he should be shocked or appreciate what you said and take it like a compliment

- “I…. what?…” “Y/n-“ “…..”

- Akane having heard that just giving you and him the most judgemental look ever

Lemon

- You tell him the most jaw dropping drama n he handles it like nothing

- You jokes just make him pause for a good second and then resume back to what he was doing

- you once whispered into his ear “you tryna bounce that ass for me?”

- he just stopped scrolling on TikTok and did a slow turn to look at you with the most judgmental look

- “No… I’m not…”

- You two literally hear drama and gossip with each other and if you guys hear the drama together, you two are looking at each other n gawking bc what did I just hear?

- He’s on his phone a lot so when you say something out of pocket he just pauses what he was doing n stares at you for like a few seconds or a minute

- Sometimes he even says out of pocket things to you as well n sometimes you do blush, same with him

- you two literally gossip to each other the most craziest things ever

- if you try to embarrass him n whispering UNHINGED shit in his ear, he’ll do the same to you but worse

- I can confirm you one had a battle about it

- of course he won because the shit he says is way worse then the shit you say

- “Hey babe where did the red die go?” “Idk check your pad.”

- You were so dumbfounded that you paused n blinked at him

- “shit… he beat me too it”

———————————

- All n all awesome bfs 👍

DONT FORGET THE CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP TO 18+ NO WORRIES 🩷

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Imma need this haah so I was watching the race yesterday and I heard Nando come on the radio to say he would have given in by now but he needs to do it for a few people etc and I’ve seen the video at the end of the race where he’s struggling to get out of the car I can’t send it if you haven’t seen it and was thinking of Nando x reader based around this. You know me throw some angst in there and lots of fluff please 🙏 your my favourite Nando writer I love your work ❤️

I am so sorry this took so long I have an exam today and just wanted to finish it before I went in!! i hope you like it :)

For you

Fernando Alonso had never been one to back down from a challenge or a fight.

It wasn’t in his nature.

He never caved, never gave up, no matter how overwhelming the situation or how drained he felt.

That was what made the Brazilian Grand Prix such a shock—not just to Aston Martin, but to you, especially.

You had been by Fernando’s side for over 10 years, and his wife for 7 of those.

You knew him inside out, perhaps better than anyone else. You knew how stubborn he could be, how relentless, especially when it came to the risks he took behind the wheel.

The race had been brutal.

The heat was suffocating, visibility was near zero in certain sectors, and the pressure to deliver was immense.

You’d been watching from the edge of your seat, every moment fraught with anxiety. You were praying to anyone who could hear, hoping for a safe race. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the fear that his age was beginning to catch up with him.

Fernando wasn’t the young firecracker he once was, yet he never showed any sign of slowing down.

To the media, to the world, he was as fit and strong as ever. But with you—he was different. With you, he didn’t have to wear that mask of invulnerability.

That day in Brazil, the race had pushed him to his limits. The physical exhaustion, the mental strain, the constant, unrelenting pressure to win—it all weighed heavily on him.

You had seen him on those mornings when he woke up groaning in pain, his back stiff from the wear and tear of years of racing, and you knew it wasn’t just the way he slept. You knew the strain his body was under, but he would never admit it. Never to the world, and never to himself.

Yet, despite it all, there was something deeper driving him forward. Something that kept him pushing when every muscle in his body screamed for him to stop.

Just before the race, you two had fought. It had been a long, tense argument, your voices raised in frustration. You had begged him, pleaded with him, “Fernando, you need to slow down. The risks you’re taking, they’re too much. I don’t want to lose you.”

But he had been defensive, angry even. His pride, his need to prove he still had it, had made him dismiss your concerns. “I know what I’m doing,” he had snapped, his voice cutting through the tension. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

He had stormed off, leaving you with nothing but the echo of his words. But you knew, deep down, he wasn’t angry at you—he was angry at himself. Because even though he wouldn’t admit it, there was a fear in him now, a fear of not being able to keep up with the younger drivers. A fear of losing that edge he had worked his whole life to perfect.

But despite all of that, there was something else on his mind, something driving him forward when his body screamed for him to give in.

He'd heard it on the radio, his voice a low rasp as he pushed back against the exhaustion. "I would’ve given up by now, but I can't. I need to do this... for them. For a few people..." For you.

When the race finally ended, Fernando was barely able to stand. His body had been pushed to its absolute limit. The pain was overwhelming, and as he dragged himself out of the car, the world around him spun. His hands were trembling, his legs unsteady, and yet it wasn’t the physical exhaustion that alarmed you. It was the look in his eyes—defeat, vulnerability, a quiet acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, you had been right.

You were there before he could take another step, rushing to his side. You didn’t need to say anything—your arms around him, the steady pressure of your embrace, spoke volumes. You could feel the weight of his body as he leaned into you, his breaths shallow, strained. His voice was barely audible when he spoke.

"I don’t know how much longer I can do this," he whispered, his words thick with exhaustion, both physical and emotional.

You didn’t hesitate. "You can," you replied softly, but firmly. "You always can. But only if you let yourself breathe sometimes, Nando."

He didn’t answer at first. His fingers clenched around your shirt, his face buried in your hair as though trying to find solace in your presence. For a moment, the roar of the crowd, the flashing lights, everything else faded away. All that mattered was you and him, the two of you in that moment, holding each other together.

You stepped back slightly to look into his eyes, the exhaustion etched deep into his features. You cupped his face gently in your hands. "You don’t have to carry it all. Not alone. Let me help you. Let me in."

He finally met your gaze, his eyes shadowed with the weight of the race, of the argument, of everything he had been bottling up. For a brief moment, you saw a flicker of regret. His voice was small, apologetic, and raw. “I was wrong, about everything. You were right. I pushed too hard today. I… I can’t keep going like this.”

A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down. You could see the cracks in his armor, the vulnerability he had never let anyone see before. The fight in him wasn’t gone—it had simply shifted. Now it wasn’t about winning races or proving himself to the world, it was about finding balance, finding peace.

"You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Fernando," you whispered, your hand gently brushing his cheek. "Not to me. Not to anyone. Just… come back to me in one piece, okay?"

He nodded, a tear slipping from his eye, and for the first time in a long while, you saw the man who had been running on empty—tired, afraid, and so desperately in need of someone to hold him.

and you would always be there to do that.

[jounosparticles]

another update: i am at 6.8k words!! i’m not sure how long it’ll end up being. probably not a super super slow burn (i can do that in another story though! i just need to think of a longer plot), but at nearly 7k we aren’t close to confession yet.

i keep individual chapters fairly short, 1.5-2k words usually, this is just easier to read than huge chapters in my opinion. the first 4.5 are written, i still have to grammar proof them and reword some stuff before i upload, but i’m hoping i can get out at least the first and second chapter before the weekend ends!

update on the suegiku slowburn!!! it’s at 4k words rn, definitely a lot more to go. as it’s currently planned it’s going to start off with action elements into some angst with mutual pining sprinkled throughout. lots of stupid arguments because they’re both silly.

do we want a couple fluffy chapters post-confession or should i end it at confession? haven’t planned post confession yet. i need to decide before i release the first chapter </3 lmk what you think !!

[aluciahaz]

Sub Adam smut pleasepleasepleaspelalslePLEASEPLEASE i NEED that dickhead to be put in his place I am BEGGING (fem reader<3)

my favorite genre is putting adam in his place 🤝 also how do writers make text yellow on mobile all i could find was orange 💀

know your place

— adam x f!reader

—includes : pegging, crying, begging, bondage, edging, bottom!adam, dom!fem reader

he’s pathetic.

adam, the first man, seemed more like an annoying bird than an angel as he kept boasting about his status and yapping about his dumb stories. how could someone so renowned as him be such a brat?

it was clear he needed some training.

and if no one was going to teach him on how to shut up, you’ll do it yourself.

“mfph—! mmmh!”

adam’s incomprehensible whines sounded better than any foolish joke he’d try and tell you.

his mouth was covered, his hands were bound, and his eyes were blinded with the fabric ripped off of his ostentatious clothes.

the tears stemming from his woeful desperation soaked into the makeshift blindfold, but still streamed down his face like a weak river. the way his mouth quivered around the spit-covered cloth was so pathetic that it was almost endearing.

almost.

if only he wasn’t such a dick all the time, maybe you’d have some more empathy.

his body is trembles as he arches his back again, a loud cry leaving his restrained mouth once more as you drive your strap inside of him, constantly hitting the spot that made him feel like he was in heaven. or well, another heaven.

the vibrator on his tip certainly was helping him feel like he was ascending too.

although, unfortunately for him, the cock ring stopped him from truly meeting god. or maybe lucifer, considering how sinful this all was.

his wings would flail beneath him like a caught dove, flapping and batting against the soft bedsheets every time he got close.

which of course, you’d follow it up by slowing down both the vibrator and your hips.

it made him wail every time, slamming the back of his head down onto the pillow as he begged for you to let him come.

but how would you know? you couldn’t hear any words coming from his mouth.

“i didn’t quite catch that, what did you say?”

“mphf—mm!! mh—hm—hmm!”

he couldn’t speak even if he didn’t have the fabric between his lips. his mind was thoroughly melted, swirling with only thoughts of you and the pleasure he was experiencing. there was no way he could possibly be coherent.

the night keeps going like this. adam, the self-proclaimed best playboy around heaven, getting absolutely ruined by a woman. his weary moans and frail keens fell onto deaf ears. his begging, simply incomprehensible as you show him how weak he was under your touch. he doesn’t know how long it’s been, but surely too long!

too bad you don’t think so.

later, you finally pull off the makeshift gag after what you deem is enough time for him to remember that he’s just a feeble man when it comes to you. that you were the one who truly had the power around here.

“PLEASE! please—please please oh, fuck please—!” his voice would fray as it got higher, drool slipping down his bottom lip as he pleaded.

“please what?”

“plea—please…ha, lemme cum—ngh!” he grits his teeth as you thrust particularly roughly, raising the speed of the vibrator as you do so. it drives him insane, your cruelty.

“no.”

you could only describe his sound as a guttural scream, crying for you, his true goddess, to let him cum. it reeks of desperation, his writhing, his now jumbled mess of begging, his now breaking spirit.

he’s yours, yours, yours.

he doesn’t even realize he’s saying it out loud.

“i’m sorry—i’m sorryi’msorryi’msorry—PLEASE!” he whines, hoping that you’d take mercy on someone like him.

and finally, you do.

you were a kind angel after all, unlike him.

you rip the blindfold off of him, welcomed with his perfectly debauched face before lifting his legs over your shoulders—he really was flexible!—and taking the cock ring off, reveling in his beautifully demolished state.

“what do you say?”

“THANK YOU! thankyouthankyooou—fuckfuck FUCK!” he sucked in a breath before a long drawn out cry tumbles past his cracking lips, and for once, you like what’s coming out of his mouth.

with your word, adam finds his release, falling from his already corrupted grace. his eyes roll back like he’s died once more, his body, once so animated and jumpy, now stiff for a brief second as he rides his high.

you grab his chin, forcing him to look at you with that glazed over look in his eyes. you don’t even know if he can see you, but the action alone made him groan weakly in response.

“know your place.” you say, releasing his chin.

adam, once so full of himself, nods in agreement, sniffling as he tries to stop his crying.

a lesson well done, you think.

sorry if the words get repetitive ive been having headaches the past few days 😭 ill pull out my thinking cap soon

tags— @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

[blackwidownat2814]

Steal My Thunder (T.Owens)

Pairing: Tyler Owens x female reader, Tyler Owens x shy!reader, Tyler Owens x insecure!reader

Word Count: 462

A/N: Welcome to my first Tyler Owens fic! I was throwing fic ideas around before I even saw the movie. I watched several interviews and other stuff on YouTube and took notes even. Then after seeing it the third time, I started working on this story. I don't anticipate this being a real long story, but I also will be a little slow to update because of work or writer's block or working on a crochet project I really need to finish. What I'm really saying is please be patient with me. Secondly, like in my other works, I'd planned to make this with a plus size!reader in mind, but I decided to go with insecure because I want to try and be a little more inclusive. Also, unless otherwise stated, my readers are always female readers. Lastly, I'm already working on Chapter 1, so keep an eye out for that. However, if you really like this, please let me know and I can tag you in future updates. And as always, I will be crossposting this to AO3. If you see this story anywhere besides AO3 or Tumblr, it's stolen Kthxbye! PS: Thanks to KJ & Jordyn for their help in beta-ing and title/chapter ideas! Love y'all!

Prologue

You were a Lead Meteorologist for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.  You should not be handling school age tour groups.  You were just about DONE with being treated like a secretary.  The rest of them thought that just because Kate was gone that they could go back to treating you like they did before her.

You were quiet, shy, and someone whose love language was acts of service, so you loved to help people out.  The problem was that your co-workers abused that part of you.  They asked to lead the school groups, bring everyone coffee, put together packets for meetings, etc.  Complete nonsense…and you were done.

It was then, as you mentally typed up your resignation, that you received a serendipitous call from Kate herself.

“I believe the sayin’ is ‘No man left behind’.”

“You’re not an US Army Ranger, B.”

“Yeah, well…”  You trailed off, not wanting to burden your friend with your issues.  Kate always told you that it was okay to talk to her when you needed someone, but you were stubborn.  You were very much of the ‘friends aren’t therapists’ mindset.

“Talk to me B.”

“I’m happy for you, ya know?  You’re back to doing’ something I know you loved.  I can see it in your eyes with each video or stream I watch.”

“Okay, keep your secrets…and thank you.  I am happy.”

“So…what can I do for ya?  Why are you botherin’ me on my lunch hour?”

“Damn!  Sorry about that B.”

“You know I don’t actually care.  Tell me what’s up.”

“I’m callin’ with a job off-”

“I’ll take it.”

“Woah, I haven’t even said what it-”

“I don’t care.  Ever since you left, and because I’m a huge push over, everyone’s been walking all over me.  You know I had to do three tours today?”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“I know Kate.  Just…what’s the job anyway?”  Your friend was silent for a moment, before you heard her exhale.

“It’s storm data analysis really.”

“Elaborate.”

“We’re trying to really get down to the nitty gritty with the data from the EF-5 we got to dissipate last season and see where to improve, how to catalog it in our info database, etc.”

“I’m in”, you said.  “Y’all won’t treat me like some secretary, I’ll be close to home again, and I’ll get to spend all my time with you.”

“We most definitely will not treat you like some secretary.  We’re equal opportunity storm chasers out here.”

You tossed your empty sandwich bag into the trash and pulled up Word to start drafting your resignation letter.

“Say, what are the benefits as a Tornado Wrangler?”  Before Kate could reply, you heard Boonie baby! Woo! in the background.

With that enthusiasm, what could possibly go wrong?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging: @buckysdollforlife @13braincellsonly

[froggiewrites]

Hello! I was wondering if i could request a Zoro or a Law x gn! or m!reader with angst? They are in a fight and reader kinda ignores them and hides from them and Zoro or Law realize how in love they are with the reader? Can end however you want!

Sorry I've been so slow on requests, writer's block hit me pretty hard this week! I chose Zoro with a gn!reader for this one, it just seemed to fit him pretty well (man is not good with his emotions). I hope you enjoy it!

A Bridge Too Far

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

SFW

Summary: Zoro is terrible at handling his frustrations, and you're tired of being his punching bag. He doesn't realize what he's lost until it's gone. Warnings: Angst, Zoro being a bad boyfriend, not a happy but possibly a hopeful ending? Word Count: 2.3k

Like most of your arguments with Zoro, he started it.

He always starts it, even when he doesn’t want to. When his frustrations start to bubble, he can’t help but lash out at whoever’s closest, and that’s normally you. You’re always there, waiting for him, and you never hold it against him once he calms down. Frankly, they’re less arguments and more one-sided furious rants, as you never rise to the provocation. So he doesn’t think much of it when he snaps at you again after a particularly tough battle, one that left a buzzing under his skin and a strain in his muscles that he couldn’t shake. You wouldn’t mind. You never did.

A few minutes after you follow him to the training room, sitting quietly in the corner while he readies his swords, he finally snaps. “Will you just leave me alone for once? How am I supposed to relax with you trailing after me like this?”

You don’t just sit there and take it like you always do. You don’t just get up and leave, ready to come back when he’s calmer. You stare at him a moment, not radiating fury or indignation, simply…disappointment. Weariness. “Again?”

“What?” He snaps.

“We’re doing this again? Really?” You seem completely composed and calm. It infuriates him more than snapping ever could.

“What do you mean, doing this again? You following me around like a lovesick puppy? Yeah, I guess we are.” He hits the target in front of him harder, sending splintering wood everywhere. The sound of it pierces his brain, rattling around, making him feel even worse.

You sigh, sounding horribly burdened and beaten down. “You know what? Sure. Whatever. I’ll leave you alone, Zoro, if that’s what you want. But this is the last time. I’m not putting up with this anymore.”

He grits his teeth. “Won’t put up with this? Shouldn’t that be my line?”

Your eye twitches, finally a show of emotion, a show that he’s affecting you. “I’m not your punching bag, Zoro. I’m not here for you to use to work off your adrenaline instead of learning to deal with your emotions like an adult. I’m supposed to be someone you care about.” You finally stand, gathering your things and turning to leave. You don’t look back at him as you call, “You’re going to regret this, but I won’t.”

The door slamming echoes through the room, sounding horribly…final.

He ignores it.

It takes a few hours for him to finally wind down, for the buzzing to quiet and leave nothing but a blissful silence. He doesn’t bother cleaning up the wood all over the floor, or taking a shower to rid himself off all of the sweat. He has only one thought: his bed, warm and soft and welcoming. If he’s lucky, you’ll be in it, waiting for him to hold you close and kiss your face, the closest thing he’s ever given to an apology. He eagerly makes his way to the Sunny’s sleeping quarters, opening the door slowly to the cacophony of snores coming from Luffy and Franky, accompanied by Sanji, Chopper, and Usopp’s quiet breathing. Brook is still on deck, on watch for the night, so it makes sense his bunk is empty, but Zoro notices your bed is also suspiciously clear. Even your pillow and blanket are gone, the sheets not even wrinkled, as though no one had ever slept there at all.

A small part of him tells him he should check on you, make sure you’re alright. But a much larger, louder part is crying out for rest, and he cannot help but give in, falling face first onto his mattress without even changing clothes. He’s asleep within seconds.

He’s alone when he wakes up. He doesn’t typically sleep very long, instead napping in short bursts throughout the day, but he can see the light pouring in under the door and he realizes he must have slept at least until noon. He’s shivering, still on top of his blanket. Usually when he falls asleep like this, you throw one of the extras in your locker over him, tucking him in like a child. You must not have come back in at all last night.

He ignores the uncomfortable feeling nipping at him, something he will not name. You’re fine. You’re an adult, and one night away from your bed doesn’t mean anything.

But then you aren’t at lunch.

Sanji is giving him dirty looks, and Nami is giving him the most foul side-eye he’s ever had the displeasure of receiving. The rest of the crew are trying to act normal, but Franky is suspiciously absent and Usopp is so nervous he keeps dropping everything he tries to pick up, ending in him spilling water all over himself and taking the excuse to “take a second to go change” and never come back.

He finally breaks after Sanji brings Nami another drink, takes an obvious glance at him, and they start to whisper to each other. He makes out the words idiot, asshole, and loser (the first two from Nami and the latter from Sanji), before he slams his fork down. “What? What is it?”

Nami turns to him, filled with the sort of righteous fury she only saved for those who dare hurt her friends. “God, Zoro, you don’t even know? What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? You’re all acting weird as hell!”

Sanji jumps in. “Because you’re acting like a jerk and have the gall to pretend everything is normal, asshole! What the hell did you say to them yesterday?”

What he said to…oh. That feeling comes back again, and he furiously clamps down on it, replacing it with a significantly more comfortable and familiar indignance. “That’s none of your business, cook.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, I think I deserve to know why I had to find them sleeping in the goddamn kitchen this morning, actually.”

In the kitchen? Of course. It’s the one place you knew he would never find you. He never went there other than mealtimes, avoiding the possibility of another stupid fight with Sanji when he wasn’t up for it. “How the hell should I know?”

“Are you still pretending you don’t know it’s your fault? They were bawling their eyes out after leaving the training room.” Nami’s even angrier than Sanji is, and Zoro genuinely thinks she might hit him. The smaller, more tender part of himself, the one he’s ignoring, wouldn’t even blame her.

But that part isn’t in charge today. “My relationship isn’t your goddamn business.”

“Relationship? You seriously think you still have one of those?”

His blood runs cold, but he forces the feeling away, standing up from the table and stalking off. “I don’t have to take this.”

Nami calls after him, “I hope they dump you!”

Sanji cries out soon after. “I hope you fall into the sea, asshole!”

Zoro could go look for you. Should, even. But he instead makes the trek to the crow’s nest, cherishing the quiet, the solitude, the safety of it.

But as he sits in what is usually his sanctuary, he begins to feel that itch beneath his skin. Quiet turns to unbearable silence, solitude turns to loneliness, safety turns to suffocation. He tries to close his eyes, to center himself, take control as he loves to do, but the moment he does he can see nothing but your face. He can almost feel your hands on his back, rubbing soothing circles while your voice gently shushes him. You were so good at that, calming him down right when he needed you. Giving him a patience he simply didn’t deserve.

A patience he had been taking for granted.

What would he do, if another man had made you cry? If someone else had raised their voice at you as he had, time and again?

Part of him tried to justify it. But I don’t mean it, some petulant part of himself cried. They know I don’t mean it.

But do you? And would it matter, anyway? He’s still shouting. You’re still taking it. How long can you perform the same song and dance before it stops being a performance?

He needs to apologize.

He just needs to find you first. You aren’t in the kitchen, though Sanji is, and he doesn’t even speak with him this time, just giving him a mean glare that would send a lesser man running. Zoro hates to admit he deserves it. You aren’t in your bed, and your things are still missing. Not in Chopper’s office. Not in the library. Not in the bathroom, though Robin is, and he has to take a moment to furiously apologize for not knocking while she laughs at him.

He can only think of a few more places to check when he remembers who was missing this morning.

Franky’s workshop is quieter than he’s ever heard it, only filled with the quiet clanking of a small hammer against an even smaller piece of metal. Franky is using his second set of hands to put together some clockwork trinket, a significantly more delicate project that he usually takes on. Zoro is confused only for a moment, then he sees you, eyes intensely watching, and he realizes what’s going on. Franky has taken you in today, chosen something simple and small to distract you, to allow you to participate in some way. He’s always been great at small comforts like this, allowing someone the peace of his presence without worrying about being a burden.

Zoro could learn a lot from him.

Franky clearly knows he’s there, shoulders tensing slightly, but he doesn’t speak, waiting for one of you to take the first step. You don’t seem to notice either, too enraptured by the small metal bird in Franky’s hands, a look of wonder on your face that makes Zoro’s heart skip despite himself.

“Hi.” He cringes the moment he speaks, the peace shattering instantly. Franky doesn’t turn to acknowledge him, but he can practically feel the wince that must be on his face from the lame opener. Your head shoots up like a frightened rabbit, every part of you tense and ready to run. You pull in on yourself, making yourself smaller, like if you’re lucky he might miss you entirely, move on to the next prey. He puts up his hands, the first and only act of surrender he has ever performed, before continuing. “Can we talk? In private?”

You look to Franky, and Zoro doesn’t know what the look you two exchange means, but it makes you get up and approach. You give him a wide berth, not even coming within a foot of him, but you nod at him briefly to indicate he should follow. However small of a gesture it is, you’ve finally acknowledged him. That’s something.

You lead him back down to the training room, still covered in splintered wood and reeking of sweat. He can’t help but notice you didn’t pick a neutral location. You lead him somewhere he feels safe.

You turn to him. “Talk.”

He hesitates a moment, trying not to trip over himself and somehow make this work, but he can see that he’s finally reached the end of your apparently not-quite-infinite patience. “I’m…sorry.” He says the words through gritted teeth, feeling as though they burn his mouth as they leave. He doesn’t like to apologize in words, but in action. In gentle hands, in small acts he could deny later. He doesn’t know why it embarrasses him, to admit he was wrong. He is pretty often. But something about it makes him feel so small, so weak. But he can be small and weak for you, right now. No matter how much it hurts.

Your eyes widen, and you take the smallest step backwards. Shocked by him admitting for once he’s at fault. “You’re…sorry?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

You narrow your eyes at him, searching for some kind of trick, some hidden knife ready to plunge into your back. “For what?”

“For…for what? You know for what.” He winces at how defensive he sounds, at how you start to pull in on yourself again. “Sorry. Um. For yelling at you. For taking my anger out on you when you did nothing wrong. For how I always do that. I…I don’t know why I snap at you. And it’s wrong.”

“Yes, it is.” You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “It isn’t fair of you to keep doing this. I tried letting it slide, because I know you just don’t know how to handle your feelings, that you aren’t coming from a place of malice. But that doesn’t make it okay. And you never stopped.” You turn your back to him, approaching a nearby window, staring out at the sea.

“I’m going to stop now. I swear it.”

“I won’t be with someone who speaks to me like that. I deserve better. You know I deserve better.” You’re trying to play tough, but he can hear the shake in your voice, and he realizes that just like yesterday you’ve only turned around so he can’t see the tears on your lashes.

He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your hair. “You do. I swear I’ll treat you like you deserve. If I ever talk to you like that again, I’ll fall on my own sword.”

“...Swords.”

“Huh?”

“Swords. All three.”

He chuckles despite himself. “Alright. I’ll fall on all three at the same time.”

“Good. …You deserve it.”

“I know.” A silence hangs in the air. “I love you.”

You don’t answer.

You don’t hug him back, and you’re still sniffling, but you let him hold you. That has to be enough for now.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece (if you saw I forgot the taglist when I first posted this no you didn't)

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

What about Peter having a crush on reader but he can never properly talk to her, until reader gets saved by spider man like twice and in the third time she kisses him and Peter's all happy and excited at first until he realises she only like spiderman not Peter Parker and he's all sad and he visits her place as spidey and they talk and he tries kiss her and she's like no it was a mistake and I didn't mean it and I already like this other guy and he's like who??? And she's like oh this boy with me at school and Peter being Peter apologises and decides to help her ask the boy out while being a the sweet sad puppy he is and the next day he's all mopey at school and avoids reader until she corners and asks him out and he's like omg she was talking about me

.....can I please have chocolate now? 🥺🥺🥺

- yours truly

a/n: okay, i hope you don’t mind, i tweaked it a little so that he doesn’t find out the truth at school but at her apartment when he visits him

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist 

“Wait,” you pressed a palm to the hero’s chest and pushed him back slightly. He’d pulled up his mask just enough for his soft lips to be unobscured before he’d locked them with your own, “this–, uhm…” you averted your gaze and shook your head lightly as to rid yourself of the hazy sensation the taste of his kisses bloomed, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

“What?” he leaned back a bit next to you on your bed.

“It’s not you, I promise, you’re so–… I mean, you’re you. Most of New York would probably kill to get to do, well, this with you. I just–, as good as that felt, it can’t happen again,” sucking in a shaky breath, you revealed, “I kinda like someone else, like really like them. So, this just–, I’m sorry… I can’t…”

As a slow, sombre exhale flowed out past his lips, “oh…” he leaned further away from you, “who–, uhm… who is it?”

“A guy at my school. We have biology together, though I’ve never actually had the courage to talk to him. Every time I try, I just chicken out at the very last second and walk away…”

“What’s his name? Maybe, I don’t know… maybe your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman could play matchmaker or something?”

Blinking back at him, you breathed, “you’d really do that? You’ve already done so much for me.” 

“It’s fine, I wanna help,” he offered you a weak smile, “I just want you to be happy. So, what’s the guy’s name?”

“Peter,” you said wistfully, “Peter Parker.”

Mouth parting slightly in surprise, he looked as if you’d just slapped him clean across his face. 

“He’s got brown hair,” you went on, “and is like probably the smartest person I’ve ever met.”

“Peter Parker?” he repeated, “y-you have a crush on m–, on him?”

“Pretty much since the day I first met him,” you sighed longingly, “I know, you must think I’m pathetic. You throw yourself into danger every day and here I am, too scared to talk to the guy I’m in love with.”

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