#yeah in another universe this is what happened

[musingsofmajesty]

𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐬𝐡𝐲 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐨𝐥. 𝐈𝐈

summary now that you’ve kissed, the two of you can’t help but wonder what it means moving forward. Luckily, it’s so easy being with each other that taking it day by day doesn’t seem half bad | wc 1.1k

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[best enjoyed in order, but not required! ♡]

.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・．

If it’s one thing shy!eddie knows well, it’s labels. They’ve been forced on him all his life. But this—whatever has blossomed between the two of you—he can’t quite pin down. And the universe sure as hell isn’t gonna step in and do it for him. For once, the cards are in his hands, and he doesn’t know what to do with them. 

Later that night, he walks you out to your car, and it’s one of the hardest things he’s ever done. The feeling of your lips still lingers on his. He’s never wanted anyone to stay as badly as right now.

Nevertheless, you hug him one last time, and he gets the door for you without second thought because he’s always done so. Even before you made butterflies a permanent fixture in his stomach. 

“Thanks, Teddy,” you lilt as you settle behind the wheel. “Can I call you that?” You’re teasing, but only partly.  His blush is evident in the glow of the streetlamps that illuminate Forest Hills against the night. 

He hasn’t heard that nickname since it came past his mother’s lips when he was a boy. He smiles a little, lifts a shoulder as if he’s more indifferent than he is. “If you want," he says. 

You’re quiet for a beat, then cutely scrunch your nose up at him. “But what do you want?”  Eddie blinks like he hasn’t heard the likes of this question in a long while. 

“You can call me Teddy,” he decides. You could call him Edward for all he cared. Whatever you wanted, really. That’s when he realizes he’s in trouble. The best kind. 

Shy!Eddie who can’t pinpoint the exact moment it happens, but realizes he’s begun to pay more mind to the way he looks—undoubtedly because of you. One morning at 7 AM, his Uncle Wayne knocks on the bathroom door. Inside, he hears the startled sound of a tub of hair gel tumbling into the sink. “Shit—I’ll be out in a second!” 

An affectionate smirk pulls at Wayne's lips. “Guess I'll use it outside like a dog,” he jokes.  

Later that day, as Mrs. O’Donnell lectures the class, Eddie feels you poke the end of your pencil into the side of his ribcage from where you sit behind him. The way he straightens makes you smile, and he shoots a discreet glance over his shoulder to see what you want. Except your gaze is cast out the window in feigned innocence. 

Three minutes later, he curls in on himself as the ticklish pokes start up again. This time, you pass him a ripped piece of notebook paper that features your neat, bubbly handwriting: hi, handsome ;) 

All Eddie can do is helplessly flush with warmth. 

A couple weeks later, as you’re painting your nails on your best friend’s bedroom floor, you think aloud, “Me and Eddie.” Robin peers down at you from her bed, where she absentmindedly braids a strand of her hair. “I think we’re a sure thing.” 

Her brows lift in surprise. “So you’re official?” 

You purse your lips in consideration. “No, we’re just…us.” 

Robin frowns at first, but eventually nods because, maybe, that’s all love was ever meant to be. Unadulterated in the sense that it could never be bogged down to titles and definitions. 

“Sweet,”  she finally says. 

You nod and begin to smile at the thought of him. The way he gives you his full attention whether you’re talking about life at large or your day. The way he bites back his own goofy smile whenever he unintentionally makes you laugh—which happens all the time. The way he’s welcomed you into his little world.

You’re remiss that you weren’t braver sooner. 

“Yeah,” you agree in a wistful exhale. It is pretty sweet. You raise your hand to gently blow over the sheer pink polish coated on your fingertips. 

Like clockwork, the dismissal bell sounds to denote the end of yet another school day. A few more months, and you'll be kissing these stuffy, bustling halls goodbye.

Eddie catches up with you at your locker and asks if you’d like to go hang out with him in the woods behind the school. It’s nice out today. 

You narrow your eyes as you shut the metal door. “So was this your plan all along? Get my guard down so you can lure me into the woods and go in for the kill?” 

He knows you’re joking, but his answer is sincere anyway. His big bambi eyes dark and gooey as he says, “Never. No way.”

There’s a picnic table nestled amidst the tall trees, as it turns out. A calming breeze glides through the branches and rustles their leaves. Eddie sits first and expects you to choose the bench across from him, but you sit on the same side. You want to be near him. He can’t complain.

A comfortable silence settles between you that he eventually breaks. “Used to come out here a whole lot," he says. “I’d write songs or sit and listen to music," he lists. "Enjoy the scenery…” his words fade as his eyes settle back on you. There’s a tender depth to your gaze. 

He smiles a bit self-consciously, but he's not exactly embarrassed. More so hyperaware because you always make him feel so seen. “What?” he murmurs. 

Without a single word, you scoot closer to press your lips to his. One of his hands rise to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing across your skin. This kiss is different. Deeper. Unlike your usual affectionate pecks in every way. 

Warmth kindles in your stomach when his initial hesitancy dissipates. As he finds his way, his lips move sure and easy against your own. Plush and warm. You can feel his gentle exhales puff from his nose, and against your own desire, you slowly begin to pull away to ensure all this is alright.  

But Eddie’s okay. He’s more than okay. For the first time since he’s known you, he feels the soft tug of frustration in his chest. Except it’s not rooted in irritation. It’s rooted in want. 

When he leans back in, cheeks flushed and dark eyes hopeful, you let his lips just barely graze yours before you pull away. He tries again, and you lean back once more, flustered and excited by his newfound boldness. 

You place a gentle hand on his chest and chuckle despite yourself. “Easy, Teddy,” it’s a honeyed warning that carries no bite. 

“C’mere,” he insists, a pout on his face even though it's threatened by a smile. "Wanna kiss you." His voice drops low and shy, like it's a secret.

When you giggle, butterflies aflutter in your stomach, he takes it upon himself to hold you steady and kiss the sweet sound from your lips. 

The two of you are a sure thing, indeed.

Thanks for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated ♡

a/n making this a series because I can't get enough of these two. Stay tuned for the formal announcement!

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[suguslve]

thinking about loser (perv) idia .ᐟ

♰ pairings. idia shroud x shy fem! reader

♰ warnings. suggestive content. loser! idia at first but then he becomes a pervert (yum). noncon (?). pantie sniffing and stealing. stalking. uhhh idk what else. mdni

♰ word count. 1.5k

♰ a/n. i was on idia brainrot these past few weeks and decided to whip a lil something up ;) enjoy reading and lmk your thoughts!

— loser! idia who kept his head down, ignoring everyone, why does crowley need ALL housewardens to attend to a stupid meeting in the first place? he was busy uttering curses in his mind when your sweet voice broke the ruckus. his head snapped up just slightly, just enough to steal a glance at you. w-wait were you stuttering?! and you weren’t just stuttering—you were anxiously fidgeting with your hands too!! are you nervous because of the meeting? because of someone? or—wait—what if you’re nervous because you hate crowds too?! oh god, did he just find a fellow social avoidance expert??

— loser! idia who actually wanted to approach and talk to you, but obviously he’s a coward. yeah, nope, definitely NOT happening. he’d literally rather fight a final boss solo with no revives than approach you right now. and so, as the meeting adjourns, he quickly and quietly leaves the room (with his heart racing wildly and his face burning). 

— loser! idia who desperately tried to avoid you at every turn—but it was like the universe had other plans. no matter where he tried to hide, there you were. his carefully scouted, ultra-secret, 1000% normie-free safe zones? infiltrated. by you. of all people. what kind of cruel RNG was this?! ugh, this was turning into a way bigger side quest than he signed up for. his usual gaming hideout behind the school? you were there, sitting on the steps, quietly reading. the abandoned hallway near the library? you showed up, looking just as startled to see him as he was to see you. EVEN THE ROOFTOP—his ultimate last resort—had somehow become your preferred quiet spot?! and the worst part is sometimes, he’d see you there… and instead of running, he’d hesitate. just for a second. because—ugh, he’d never say it out loud—but you weren’t loud like the other normies. you weren’t disruptive. you were just… there. quiet. fidgeting. existing in your own little world.

— loser! idia who finally gained the courage to approach you. oh but trust him, it wasn’t like he wanted to—he just… happened to be in the same spot as you (again), and instead of immediately running in the opposite direction like usual, he somehow convinced himself to stay. which, might have been a huge mistake because the second your eyes flickered up to meet his, his brain immediately started screaming. abort, abort, abort— but you’d already seen him. his escape route had been cut off. and he just stood there, shifting on his feet, pulling at the strings of his hoodie like it was a lifeline. his mouth opened. closed. opened again. say something, you coward! 

— loser! idia who mumbled the weakest, most pathetic greeting ever known. “u-uh…yo?” his voice cracked, and he wanted the ground to swallow him up whole there on the spot. that was so cringe!! seriously?! ‘yo’?! what am i a generic background delinquent?! while he was having a crisis, you chuckled softly before greeting him in return. idia.exe has stopped working.

— loser! idia who didn’t know how this “friendship” between you even started. at first he avoided you like the plague and the next thing he knew, you two were hanging out like it was normal. at first, he figured you were just another shy person suffering through NRC, but the more you talked, the more he realized—wait, you actually get him?! you didn’t just tolerate his rants about games, anime, and how normies were a blight upon existence—you joined in. he slowly let his guard down around you. he didn’t even mean to, but you were just… easy to talk to. there were no expectations, no forced small talk, no annoying social pressure. if you two sat in silence, it wasn’t awkward. if you talked, it wasn’t exhausting. before he knew it, he was complaining about gacha rates and actually making jokes without wanting to crawl into a hole and die afterward.

— loser! idia who slowly fell for you and your little quirks. but hey! it’s not like you can blame him. you were stupidly cute in ways that made his heart do dumb things. you matched his energy—avoiding crowds, hiding from normies, nerding out over random things. you got excited about the smallest details, and somehow, somehow, you even made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the biggest loser in existence.

— loser! idia who slowly became possessive and obsessive over you. it started as just worry, okay?! totally normal levels of concern. but then his mind started spiraling—what if something bad happened to you and he wasn’t around?! NRC was a literal villain academy, full of shady, power-hungry weirdos, you can’t trust any of the students here—well, aside from him and ortho but that’s besides the point! you—with your big doe eyes and painfully sweet personality—were basically walking around with a giant “EASY TARGET” sign on your back. you can be easily taken advantage of!

— loser! idia who swore to be your protector. it wasn’t even a choice at this point—it was a necessity. so what if he wasn’t exactly the heroic, sword-wielding, normie-approved protector type? he had brains. he had strategy. and most importantly—he had a highly advanced AI-powered little brother who could do background checks on anyone who so much as looked at you funny. he might be a loser, but if he notices someone teasing or making you uncomfortable, he’ll reluctantly step in. “H-hey, back off, normie… uh, I mean, don’t be rude, or whatever…” then he drags you away like a panicked introvert escaping a social interaction.

— loser perv! idia who set up cameras all over ramshackle dorm to “keep an eye out on you.” it wasn’t stalking! no no, this was just preventative security measures! NRC was dangerous, okay?! a totally defenseless, magicless, too-trusting person like you? living alone in a rundown, ghost-infested dorm? that was basically asking for trouble. anyone with half a brain would’ve done the same! (right?)

— loser perv! idia who watches you 24/7 watching everything. the way you got ready for bed. the way you sighed and stretched when you thought no one was looking. the way your shirt slipped off your shoulder sometimes. and oh god, when you absentmindedly played with the hem of your skirt or chewed on the end of your pen? yeah. he was so beyond saving. okay so maybe he checked the cameras a little too often. maybe he kept the feed open on one of his monitors at all times. maybe he watched you even when there was no actual danger. but it’s not like he was doing anything weird! just… making sure you weren’t lonely!

— loser perv! idia who became utterly obsessed with you. he’d watch you from afar, his eyes tracing every movement, every smile. his room was filled with pictures of you, some taken without your knowledge. his obsession grew darker, more twisted. his obsession became all-consuming. he hacked into your social media accounts, reading your private messages and learning more about you than you ever intended to share. he’d watch you through hidden cameras he installed in your room, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction as he invaded your privacy.

— loser perv! idia who snuck into your dorm one night as you were asleep. he watched you for hours, his heart racing with excitement and fear. oh how he wanted to touch you, to feel your skin against his. but he knew he couldn’t risk waking you up. instead, he roamed your room. touching your things, smelling the perfume you use, looking at the plushies you kept, but it wasn’t enough, so he made his way to your bathroom and went through all your dirty clothing. sniffing the clothes you wore, rummaging for ages until he found it. your soiled panties. he took them all, moaning as he smelt your scent on them. god he can feel himself growing hard right now. he took your underwear and kept them all on the pocket of his hoodie. but before he left he made sure to give you one look, and well maybe a peck on your cheek, but it’s not like you’d find out, right?

— loser perv! idia who rushed to his dorm room and locked it to make sure no one would disturb him. 

— loser perv! idia who watched various amounts of hentai that night, imagining it was you writhing and moaning under him. he pulled off his sweats and boxers and let his cock free. he hissed as the cold air hit his cock—then, he pulled your panties from where he had kept them. one hand sniffing it, and the other jerking himself off. he was so close, he could feel it, and so he took your underwear and jerked himself with it. oh fuck, he couldn’t take it anymore.

— loser perv! idia who couldn’t help himself from moaning your name over, and over until he came hard. his mind filled with dirty thoughts of defiling your innocence. god, he can’t wait to ruin you. he jerked himself faster, and faster until he came. his fluids soiling your panties. his breathing was labored, cheeks flushed. ah shit, this wasn’t gonna cut it, he needed more.

all rights reserved to © suguslve.

[andy-15-07]

Hii good morning! Would you like to write anything smut for Javier Peña or any other Pedro's character you like? Thankss

The Allure of the Night

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Word Count: 2334 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The dim light of the bar cast long shadows, painting the scene in hues of amber and gold. Javier Peña nursed his drink, the ice clinking softly in the otherwise quiet space. He watched as you moved across the room, a vibrant splash of color in the muted atmosphere. Your laughter, light and unrestrained, drifted over to him, and he found himself smiling despite the weight of the day. He’d known you for… how long had it been now? Long enough to know the curve of your smile, the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you were truly amused, long enough to know the comfort of your presence amidst the chaos that was his life.

You reached his table, a playful glint in your eyes. “Javier. You look like you’re contemplating the mysteries of the universe.”

He chuckled, gesturing to the empty chair opposite him. “Just thinking about how much trouble one woman can cause.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. “And what trouble have I caused, Agent Peña?”

“Oh, you know,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “The usual. Disrupting the peace, corrupting my morals…”

“Your morals were already corrupt, Javier,” you retorted, sliding into the chair. “I just helped you embrace it.”

He laughed, the sound genuine and warm. “That you did. That you did.” He signaled the bartender for another drink. “So, what brings you out tonight? Besides the irresistible allure of my company, of course.”

“You wound me, Javier,” you said, feigning hurt. “Your company is always a draw. But I actually came to hear about your latest escapades. Anything exciting happening in the world of drug cartels and international intrigue?”

Javier’s smile faded slightly. “Same old, same old. Cat and mouse. Except sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s the cat and who’s the mouse.” He swirled the ice in his glass. “It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated seems to be your specialty,” you said softly. You reached out and covered his hand with yours, the simple gesture grounding him. “You know you can talk to me about anything, Javier.”

He looked at your hand on his, the warmth of your touch a welcome contrast to the coldness of the metal. “I know,” he said, his voice rough. “And I appreciate it. More than you know.”

The conversation flowed easily between them, a comfortable mix of banter and shared confidences. They talked about the case, the frustrations, the small victories that kept him going. You listened patiently, offering insightful comments and a sympathetic ear. You understood his world, not because you were a part of it, but because you understood him.

As the night deepened, the bar emptied, leaving only a handful of patrons. Javier and you remained, lost in your own little world. The air between you crackled with an unspoken tension, a familiar dance of attraction and hesitation. You both knew where this could lead, where it usually led, but neither of you dared to break the comfortable rhythm.

Finally, Javier leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on you. “You know,” he said, his voice low and husky, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Oh, this sounds dangerous,” you teased. “Javier Peña thinking.”

He grinned, a flash of white teeth in the dim light. “Dangerous is my middle name. Or it should be. Anyway, I was thinking… about how much I enjoy your company.”

“Is that so?” you purred, meeting his gaze.

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes tracing the curve of your jawline. “I do. You’re… you’re good for me.”

“And you’re good for me,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

He reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. A spark ignited, a familiar flame that flickered to life between them. He pulled your hand towards him, his touch surprisingly gentle. You didn’t resist.

“Come here,” he murmured, his voice laced with desire.

You stood up, your chair scraping against the floor. He met you halfway, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. The scent of his cologne filled your senses, a heady mix of sandalwood and something distinctly Javier. You tilted your head back, offering him your lips.

His kiss was slow and deliberate, a探求 touch that ignited a fire within you. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken desires, of a connection that ran deeper than either of you were willing to admit. He deepened the kiss, his hand moving to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair.

The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a moment of shared passion. The bar, the case, the complications of his life… all of it disappeared, replaced by the intensity of his touch, the heat of his kiss.

He broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours. “Come home with me,” he whispered.

You didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” you breathed.

The drive back to his apartment was a blur. Neither of you spoke, the silence filled with anticipation. When they arrived, Javier unlocked the door and ushered you inside. The apartment was dimly lit, the only light coming from the streetlamps outside.

He turned to you, his eyes burning with intensity. He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

You blushed, the compliment warming you from the inside out. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He pulled you close again, his arms wrapping around you tightly. He kissed you again, a kiss that was filled with a desperate longing. His hands moved over your body, exploring the curves and contours you knew so well.

He led you to the bedroom, the air thick with unspoken promises. He closed the door behind him, shutting out the world. He turned to you, his eyes filled with a raw desire that made your breath catch in your throat.

He reached out and began to unbutton your shirt, his fingers fumbling slightly. You met his gaze, your own heart pounding in your chest. He undressed you slowly, savoring every moment. You did the same for him, your fingers trembling slightly as you unbuttoned his shirt.

He pulled you close, his body pressed against yours. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the hard muscles beneath his skin. He kissed you again, his tongue tracing the outline of your lips. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more demanding.

He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. You gasped, your hands clutching his shoulders. He carried you to the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He laid you down gently, his body hovering over yours.

He kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, your chest. He explored every inch of your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You moaned softly, your hands tangling in his hair.

He moved lower, his lips brushing against your skin. You arched your back, your breath catching in your throat. He continued his exploration, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you.

He finally entered you, his movements slow and deliberate. You gasped, your body tightening around him. He paused, his eyes searching yours. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes.”

He began to move, his pace quickening. You met his rhythm, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony. The world dissolved, leaving only the two of you, lost in the throes of passion. You cried out his name, your voice filled with a desperate longing. He answered you with a groan, his body shuddering as he reached his climax.

He collapsed on top of you, his breath coming in ragged gasps. You held him close, your fingers stroking his hair. The silence was broken only by the sound of your breathing, the beating of your hearts.

He finally rolled over, pulling you with him. He held you close, his arm wrapped around you protectively. You snuggled against him, your head resting on his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart, a comforting rhythm that lulled you to sleep.

The morning light streamed through the window, waking you gently. You stretched, your body feeling pleasantly sore. You turned to find Javier sleeping soundly beside you, his face relaxed and peaceful. You smiled, a feeling of warmth spreading through you. You reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead.

He stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He looked at you, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Morning,” he murmured.

“Morning,” you replied.

He pulled you closer, his arm tightening around you. He kissed you softly, a lingering kiss that spoke of affection and tenderness. “I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered.

“Me too,” you replied, snuggling against him.

The dim silence of the early morning had given way to a warm glow as you slowly stirred beside Javier. The memory of last night’s fierce passion still shimmered in the quiet air of his bedroom. Your body felt pleasantly tender and alive with anticipation for what the morning might bring. As you shifted on the rumpled sheets, Javier’s eyes fluttered open, heavy with sleep but quickly brightening at the sight of you.

“Good morning,” he murmured in a husky tone, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your bare arm. His voice carried a mix of lingering desire and a promise of more.

“Good morning,” you replied, a teasing smile curving your lips. “I was hoping we’d have a few more moments like last night.”

Javier’s gaze darkened with need as he shifted closer. “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispered. “Tell me, do you want to taste me… again?”

The question, spoken with both vulnerability and raw passion, sent a shiver through you. You slid your hand to his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart beneath your palm. “I want every bit of you, Javier. Let’s not hold back.”

In that intimate, sunlit haze, the roles of giver and receiver blurred in a dance as old as desire itself. Javier was the first to act—his lips trailing heated kisses along your collarbone before softly biting at your skin, eliciting a quiet moan from you. You arched into his touch, your body inviting his exploration. With deliberate care, he began unfastening the delicate straps of your lingerie, his tongue occasionally flicking out to taste the warm skin revealed with each freed inch.

Moments later, you took control, shifting so that your eyes met his in a silent exchange of mutual invitation. “Now it’s my turn,” you said breathlessly. You slowly slid off the top of his loose T-shirt, your hands exploring the hard planes of his torso. Your fingertips grazed over the sensitive skin of his chest, drawing a low groan as you trailed kisses downward, savoring the subtle saltiness of his skin.

Before long, you found yourself kneeling between his thighs, his eyes never leaving yours. The raw desire in his gaze spurred you on as you began to tease him with gentle, exploratory kisses along the inside of his thigh. His hand threaded through your hair as his breath grew ragged, his murmurs mingling with the soft sounds of your ministrations. You took your time, letting each kiss and soft lick build the intensity between you. When you finally moved closer, your warm mouth enveloped him; every deliberate stroke of your tongue was a pledge of your shared passion.

“God, you feel so good,” he groaned, his hands resting on your head to guide your movements. His pleasure was as evident as the way his body responded to your every touch, and soon you both were caught in an intoxicating rhythm of mutual giving.

But the intimacy did not stop there. As the taste of desire and satisfaction mingled with the soft light of morning, Javier shifted his focus. With a gentle yet commanding look, he guided you so that you lay back, your body exposed in a vulnerable yet empowered state. “Now, let me show you how much I crave you,” he whispered.

Rising to his knees, he began his own exploration, his tongue tracing patterns along your inner thigh before finally reaching the most sensitive places. Every touch, every flicker of his tongue, brought soft gasps and the quickening of your breath. You arched your back, your hands gripping the sheets as waves of pleasure built inside you. In the quiet intimacy of that morning, you were both performers in a delicate, passionate duet, each act of oral caressing the other as much as it filled you with need.

Between whispered words and the music of soft moans, you exchanged playful, heated dialogue. “You taste even better than I remembered,” Javier murmured as you both took turns exploring each other’s most intimate parts. “I love hearing you moan, knowing that every inch of you is mine,” he said, his voice low and filled with adoration.

“You make me feel alive,” you responded, your words punctuated by another soft moan as he switched back to you, ensuring that every bit of desire was both given and received. The raw energy of your morning encounter was as wild as it was tender—a true celebration of trust, passion, and the magnetic pull that drew you both together time and again.

As your bodies reached a blissful crescendo, the lines between giving and receiving blurred until you were both lost in a haze of mutual ecstasy. In the aftermath, breathless and spent, you lay entwined in each other’s arms, the quiet of the morning punctuated only by soft, contented sighs. The passion of the night had transformed into a gentle, lingering tenderness as you both savored the afterglow.

In that sacred space of shared vulnerability, you knew without words that this was more than just a physical connection—it was an affirmation of the depth of your desire, trust, and the unspoken promise of many more mornings filled with both wild abandon and tender intimacy.

[concretejunglefm]

I'm not ready to let you forget me (part 5 - finale)

*edit credit goes to the lovely @defuckingthrone-dot-com

You told your friends you want me dead And said that I did everythin' wrong And you're not wrong

An anon request for lovers to enemies -> playlist, part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5.

Summary: It’s been two years since Noah cheated on you, abruptly ending your relationship. However, the universe seems to have a peculiar sense of humor in its plan to reunite you.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader.

CW: None really. Mentions of cheating, Noah can be an overall asshole and a tad bit of angst.

WC: 1.8k

AN: This is the final part in this fic. I hope all of those who've read it have enjoyed and thank you to the anon for requesting this idea, I hope that it met any of your expectations. I had so much fun playing with this trope.

Dividers: Silent-stories.

Maybe it had all been a fluke. Perhaps the vulnerable side of Noah you had witnessed in his candidness had been a fleeting glimpse into something you would never encounter again.

As you retreat to the bar and adhere to your initial plan for the evening—wallowing in self-pity with a few cocktails—you find Noah seated there with his friends, his usual smug expression restored. 

This time, it irks you more, especially when he briefly glances your way but chooses to ignore you. It shouldn't bother you as much as it does. You thought that you had somehow moved forward, yet it feels like you've taken several steps backward.

After ordering a drink, you seek a quiet corner, or as quiet as can be found in a bustling bar within a Vegas hotel, and settle down, sipping contentedly on your cocktail while your eyes slowly scan the room.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

You briefly glance up to find Noah standing over you, but he doesn't wait for a response before sliding himself into the booth beside you.

"Can I help you?" You can't help but let your attitude slip through, as you felt slighted by earlier and him choosing to walk away.

"Retract those claws, kitten. I'm here to apologize." Somehow, you don't believe him, but you choose to relax slightly and offer him a genuine smile.

"Go ahead." You encourage him.

"You realize that you're the only woman who's ever made me get down on my knees and apologize, right?" You catch a faint smirk at the corner of his mouth, as if he's suppressing the enjoyment he derived from that.

"And I would do it again." You retort, maintaining a composed face and concealing any indication of your own thoughts behind it, by taking another sip of your drink.

"I don't doubt that." He scoffs, settling back against the seat, and you feel his arm brush against yours. "I genuinely mean it. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have walked away earlier. It was just… a lot to process."

"And you've never been good with big boy emotions?" You quip, closing your mouth around the straw in your glass after apologizing, allowing him to continue.

He chuckles, despite the brief glare he had given you prior. "I suppose you're right. I've never really been good at expressing my feelings. But I also didn't know about your trip and whatever the guys had planned."

Your head perks up, and your brow furrows slightly as you pull your drink away. "Yeah, what was all that about? You said you knew I was coming?"

"Listen, all I knew was we had a show in Vegas. Apparently, Jolly, Sloan, and Nick had been planning this trip ever since. I only found out you were coming the week before we left. Apparently, Sloan asked what flight we were on."

Suddenly, everything began to make sense; the last-minute trip, the separate seats, and the fact that you were conveniently sat next to each other.

If you were a betting person, you would bet that she had also arranged the hotel rooms, given that this entire trip had been paid for using her hotel points through her work. "That mother—"

You grumble before Noah cuts you off. "I can't say it was the best idea, but I can't deny that I'm not happy it happened."

"Why? You realize that all this has only made us fight more than ever before."

"Yeah, but you're kind of hot when you're all fired up like that." Noah smirks, and you feel his eyes rake over you in a way that makes you squirm.

You hadn't expected that response from him. He was naturally flirty and charming, but there was some level of sincerity to his words, like he wasn't just trying to woo you.

"I still hate you." You clarify, and there's that smirk, wider than before, as he leans in close to you.

His mouth against your ear, he whispers, "I hear that hate-fucking is the best kind of sex."

His breath, hot against your ear, sends a shiver down your spine, between his words and the unexpected closeness of him.

Before you can respond, Folio's voice calls for him, and Noah swiftly slips away, giving you a wink in return.

There he is again, the same old cocky guy you've always known. Despite the frustration, it's strangely comforting, knowing that beneath it all, he remains the same. 

"I come in peace." Sloan says as she approaches you at the bar.

"Why are you acting like that?" You laugh and reach out for her hand, pulling her towards you.

"Because." she pouts. One glance into her eyes reveals the slight glassiness from a few too many drinks this evening. "Noah mentioned he told you about the whole plan. I thought you would be mad."

You shake your head and sigh. "I'm not mad."

"Just disappointed?" Her pout deepens, and you can't help but laugh.

"No! I mean, a bit, but I should've expected it from you. Meddling in my life is your second favorite pastime, after breaking boys' hearts."

"I do really well at the first one, don't I?" Losing her pout, Sloan stands up straight, as if proud of her accomplishment in your eyes and flips her hair over her shoulder. "But I don't want to break this one." She confesses, shuffling closer to you before her head turns, and you follow her gaze towards Jolly and the rest of the guys.

"Then don't. Let yourself actually be happy with a guy for a change." You gently nudge your hip against her, and she looks back to you, nodding in agreement.

"And you should let yourself get a guy."

"Like who? Noah?"

She instantly shakes her head and scoffs, dismissing the idea with a wave of her hand. "No. But I did see that cute waiter from the other night over there." She points to another table where a group of guys are sitting together. To your surprise, she's right. The waiter from the other night is sitting on the edge of the couch, talking to his friends.

With a nod and a quick pep talk from Sloan, you head over to his table, holding your head high as you try to think of anything flirty enough to catch his attention.

"Fancy seeing you here." you purr down at him. The guys' eyes shoot up to you, and surprise quickly turns to delight.

"What a nice surprise." he flashes you a smile and shuffles over, patting down for you to join him and his friends.

"Stare any harder, and you might just set him on fire." Jolly quips, passing Noah and patting him on the back with a chuckle.

Noah's eyes have been fixed on you ever since you approached the waiter from the other night and sat down. "What on earth is she doing talking to him?" he struggles to hide his annoyance at the thought of you entertaining someone else.

He doesn't notice the look shared between his friends, who are all watching him. Instead, he remains fixed on you with a heavily possessive stare.

Noah's jaw clenches with every giggle, every arm touch, and every movement that brings you closer to the guy you're with. He quickly looks away whenever he catches your head turning in his direction, afraid that you might see him staring.

"What are you going to do? Stop her from leaving with him?" Nick asks.

"If I have to." Noah replies.

At that moment, he notices you moving from the seat, your hand still holding onto the waiter from the other night, and watches you move through the crowd of people.

He tries to follow after you, but he doesn't know what he'll do if he catches up. Will he tell you not to go with him? Will he ask you to leave him with him instead?

He has no real plan of action, except for a determination to rush over and stop the lift after he sees you both stepping inside.

The doors close just a second too soon as he finally reaches it. "Fuck!" he grumbles under his breath and looks towards the doors leading to the stairs. Quickly, he runs over to them, pushing through the door and taking two steps at a time, determined to catch up with you.

David, as you learn the waiter's name to be, is a pleasant guy. Despite the fun and flirty nature of your conversation, Noah's words remain heavily on your mind.

Between his apology and his comment about hate-fucking being the best type of sex, your eyes constantly wander to the bar until you spot him. 

Convinced you've caught him staring, you can't resist the urge to tease him and decidedly invite David to join you for a nightcap in your room, slipping away with him.

It only takes a quick glance back at Noah's direction to see him already making his way through the crowd towards you.

You've got him right where you want him.

As you reach the lifts, you pull David inside, pressing the button for your floor. When you catch Noah heading in your direction, your hands move to the front of David's shirt, grasping him tightly and pulling him closer as the doors close.

Once alone with him, you push him back and reach for the buttons, pressing for the next floor. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have invited you up. I was just trying to make someone jealous." You confess, feeling a pang of guilt as you meet his gaze.

"Is it the guy from the other night by any chance?" He asks, and you remain silent, making him chuckle as he steps out of the lift on the next floor.

"I think you don't have to worry about trying to make him jealous. I think he's already there." You catch the way his eyes move across the hall, and you peek out of the lift to see Noah standing at the door to the stairwell.

As David passes Noah and enters the stairwell, you watch him approach you, and step back into the lift, him following, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "So, you were trying to make me jealous?"

"I never said that."

"You didn't have to."

He backs you into the corner of the lift, and your back presses against the cool, mirrored wall as you gaze up at him. "I hate you." You growl, Noah taking a step closer and closing the gap between you.

"I know, you've said." he says with a smug grin, trapping you between his body and the lift wall. His arm stretches out, and his hand rests just above you.

For a fleeting moment, your eyes meet, and you catch a glimpse of the heat in his own eyes. They unmistakably flicker down to your mouth.

"Kiss me then." you can't help but smirk as you watch him lean in towards you.

Your lips meet in a passionate exchange as the lift doors finally close, sealing you together on the ride back up to your shared floor.

If you truly hate him as much as you claim to, then why do you find yourself waking up in his bed the next morning?

tagged: @fadingangelwisp @deathblacksmoke @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @blade-dressed-in-red @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @halfalgorithmhafdeity @dominuslunae @tosoundlessdarkistare @annthepenguin @samanthasgone @littlebear423 @aprosiacperson @flowery-mess @nyriastark @blackgirlmagicforever, @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @lonelydragonlady

[bitchinbarzal]

Almost Hate | M Boldy

Summary: a reconciliation with Matt wasn’t in the cards for you.

-

Boston College had been big enough that you and Matt could’ve easily avoided each other. But for some reason, the universe had other plans.

From the moment you met, there was something off between you. No real reason, no dramatic backstory—just a constant, simmering tension that neither of you could shake.

Maybe it was the way he always seemed to have some cocky remark ready when you walked into a room. Or the way you refused to laugh at his jokes, even when they were actually funny. Whatever it was, it had followed you through four years of college, through mutual friends and shared parties, through stolen glares across campus.

And then, after graduation, life happened. You moved on. He moved on. That part of your life was over.

Or so you thought.

Minnesota was never the plan. But when a job offer came, one too good to pass up, you packed your life into a couple of suitcases and made the move.

You had been here for a few months now, slowly settling in, figuring out the rhythm of a new city. Which is how you ended up at a bar downtown on a Friday night, sipping your drink and regretting not leaving earlier.

Because the guy standing next to you? The one who had been trying way too hard for the last ten minutes? Yeah, he wasn’t getting the hint.

“Come on,” he says, leaning in just a little too close. “One more drink.”

“I’m good, thanks,” you reply, shifting back.

“You sure? Because—”

“She said she’s good, man.”

The voice is familiar. You turn your head and—of course, Matt Boldy is standing there, hands in his pockets, looking at the guy like he’s debating whether or not to shove him away from you.

The guy scoffs but mutters something under his breath before finally walking off.

You exhale, turning to face Matt fully. “Boldy.”

His lips twitch. “Still calling me that, huh?”

You roll your eyes. “What are you even doing here?”

He shrugs. “Live here. Play hockey here. What about you?”

“Same. Minus the hockey part.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment, like he’s piecing something together. “Didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Yeah, well. Life’s funny like that.”

The tension between you is still there, but it’s different now. Less sharp edges, more… curiosity.

He clears his throat. “Let me walk you home.”

You raise a brow. “Excuse me?”

“Just—” He shifts his weight, looking a little unsure for the first time ever. “It’s late. And that guy might still be around. Just let me make sure you get home safe.”

You hesitate, but the sincerity in his voice makes you nod. “Alright, fine.”

The walk to your apartment is quieter than you expect. The city hums around you, streetlights casting long shadows, and Matt walks a step closer than necessary, like he’s making sure no one gets too close.

It’s nice.

Weird. But nice.

When you reach your building, you turn to him, crossing your arms. “So. You save me from a creep and walk me home. What’s next? We pretend we don’t know each other for another five years?”

A smirk tugs at his lips. “Actually… I was thinking I’d ask you out.”

You blink. “What?”

He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly looking almost—shy? “Look, I know we had that whole ‘hate’ thing going on in college, but I don’t think I actually hated you.”

You narrow your eyes. “You don’t think?”

He chuckles. “I know I didn’t. I just—” He exhales, meeting your gaze. “I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t hate. And now that we’re here, and I’m walking you home, and you’re still you, and I still… notice you—” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to waste time pretending anymore.”

Your heart stumbles over itself, but you keep your expression neutral. “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying—” He steps closer, eyes flicking to your lips before locking back on yours. “Let me take you out. No tension, no bullshit. Just you and me.”

The old part of you—the part that remembers all the snarky remarks and stolen glares—wants to push back, to challenge him, to keep whatever this is at arm’s length.

But the new part of you? The one that sees the way he’s looking at you right now?

That part says, Why not?

So you tilt your head, smirking just a little. “Fine. But if you annoy me, I’m leaving.”

He grins. “Fair deal.”

[violettavonviolet]

Spideytorch fic rec list

hey guys, as promised spideytorch is next! Those two idiots are very dear to my heart and I think I've found some gems! Do send the authors some love if you end up reading some <3. All fics are complete, the word count goes up as you scroll and mind the tags before you read!

Caught on Candid Camera

Traincat

Summary:

“You have ten seconds to tell me what’s wrong,” Peter said, picking up the strangely bubbling beaker. His spider-sense stayed silent, thankfully, but his science-sense was giving him a headache. 

“Aren’t you around kids?” Johnny said. “I shouldn’t be telling you this if you’re around kids.”

“Six… five... four…” Peter said.

“It’s just,” Johnny said breathlessly, “did you know that there are webcams on the Statue of Liberty now?”

Peter dropped the beaker.

5k, mature

teenager in love

orangejoose

Summary:

Johnny groaned exaggeratedly. Then he leaned in close to Spidey, narrowing his eyes. “Are you like super ugly or something? Oh my god! You actually have eight eyes! Or fangs?? You have fangs! Or… no nose! Like Voldemort! No, wait… that's a snake thing.”

Spidey laughed, and Johnny’s heart leaped at the sound, but he quickly kicked himself internally. Nope. No. Johnny was sixteen, and he had no idea how old Spidey was. Early twenties at the youngest, but no. No way. That could not happen.

6k secret identity, gen

Kind, Sober, and Fully Dressed

Traincat

Summary:

"Pete, my man, my completely platonic best bro," he muttered to himself in the voice he reserved solely for mocking Johnny Storm. "Come over and watch my maybe sex tape! Fun times! Just two guys hanging out -" he slammed the bathroom door maybe a little harder than necessary "- watching the one guy's celebrity sex tape! Good clean fun!"

Mrs. Moretti downstairs banged on her ceiling with a broom.

Everything was coming up Parker tonight.

--

Or, in which Peter proves himself tragically unable to take a hint. Post-Amazing Spider-Man Digital #17, aka the time Johnny asked Peter to watch his sex tape.

8k miscommunication, mature

stranger danger

animosities

Summary:

pete

is this a bad time to ask who this is??

Hothead

Is this not Grindr Peter?

pete

nope

Hothead

Ahhh fuck

Sorry for the unsolicited dick pic

pete

that’s alright, ive seen worse

--

In which Johnny gets a username wrong, Peter gets a dick pic, and MJ gets a headache just thinking about the situation.

10k no powers teen

All That We Were

paramountie

Summary:

“What do you think the deal is anyway?” Peter asks. “My money’s on dreamscape.”

“Twenty bucks says it’s an alternate universe.”

“Nuh-uh, pal. It’s a dream for sure. Or a nightmare.”

10k alternate universe, gen

Better in Picture

weekend_conspiracy_theorist

Summary:

In which Peter Parker has no interest in sleeping with Matt Murdock, no matter what anyone seems to think.

12k teen and up

Weaving Spiders Come Not Here

Mizzy

Summary:

People are treating Peter oddly. Really oddly.

It turns out they're being nice to him because they think his boyfriend cheated on him.

…with Spider-Man.

It's honestly quite tiring pretending to be jealous of yourself.

13k secret identity, teen

Always Glad You Came

aloneintherain

Summary:

Spider-Man is a relatively new, controversial vigilante, and Johnny has a crush the size of the Empire Building. The Four - operating under the assumption that Spidey is an adult - do not approve.

“I just happen to think Spider-Man's cool,” Johnny says, matter-of-factly. “A hero can think another hero is cool without making it weird. I admire his aloofness. And his badass-ness.”

“His aloofness,” Ben repeats, chuckling into his mug of beer. It’s roughly the size of Johnny’s head. “Yeah, sure, I bet that’s all your admire, right?”

13k secret identity teen

Six of Swords

Traincat

Summary:

“I’m sorry, Peter,” Reed said. “From what I’m seeing currently -- I’m afraid the condition might be permanent.”

“Hm,” Peter said. He drummed his fingers – six hands’ worth of them – on the table top, considering Reed’s words carefully. “Nah.”

“Excuse me?” Reed said.

“No,” Peter said. “Because see, I’ve done this whole rodeo before, and this? This is not permanent.”

“You’ve had six arms before,” Reed said, slowly, as if that was the weirdest thing he’d ever heard in their business. As if Peter hadn’t passed Doctor Doom out in the hallway walking in here.

“He did,” Johnny filled in helpfully. “In college. Or anyway that’s what he told me this one time when we were looking for vampires.”

--

Peter is transformed back into a six-armed Spider-Man. Johnny sticks around.

14k six armed spidey, teen and up

Tied to the Wait and Sees

Mizzy

Summary:

Johnny Storm's in love. With Spider-man. Except no one seems to even believe Johnny when he tells them. Everyone thinks he's totally joking. What a buzzkill. Even his bff doesn't react supportively, which is rude, disrespectful, and completely awkward when Johnny walks into a time anomaly and wakes up in the future married not to his beloved Spider-man, but to Peter Parker.

Huh, no wonder Parker reacted so badly to the news.

14k, Time travel, teen

Eight Arms to Hold You

metaphoracle

Summary:

When Spider-Man’s best friend Johnny Storm asks him for help in tactfully declining a marriage proposal from the King of Atlantis, Namor the Sub-Mariner, the only solution is for him to volunteer Daily Bugle photographer Peter Parker to pretend to be dating Johnny at the Engagement Banquet in Atlantis. Sure, it’s technically lying to his best friend about who Peter Parker is, but the important thing is that Johnny won’t have to marry Namor, and if Peter gets some photographs of Atlantis to sell, what’s the harm? Peter thought the most difficult thing about this scenario was going to be making sure Johnny didn’t figure out Peter is actually Spider-Man. Having to pretend he wasn’t actually falling in love with his best friend never crossed his mind. 

Featuring fake relationships, forced (almost) marriages, identity porn, traditional Atlantean clothing, and amorous cephalopods.

15k fake relationship, teen and up

Say You Will, Say You Won't

Traincat

Summary:

Johnny Storm found him on a Friday afternoon, wearing the kind of beseeching look that filled Peter with dread.

“I need to ask you a favor,” he said.

“No,” Peter said, swinging away.

__

Peter and Johnny get married, really-not-really.

15k, pretend relationship, part of a series!!

My Gigantic Crush

lamujerarana

Summary:

Peter Parker has a problem. He's in love with his best friend, Johnny Storm. Well, he should really say Spider-Man's best friend, given that Johnny has no idea they're the same person.

16k identity porn, teen

New York Minute

Traincat

Summary:

“It’s just that, when whatever happened, happened, it’s like my senses have been dialed to eleven. There’s – there’s way too much input, so they just kind of help me focus.”

--

Johnny Storm, impossibly, helps Peter focus.

16k hurt/comfort, teen

No Dating Here!

lamujerarana

Summary:

Johnny has no idea what Reed, Ben, and Sue keep going on about. He doesn't have feelings for Spidey at all. He doesn't even know what the guy looks like. And he definitely would never date him.

Or, what starts off as everyone wrongly thinking Johnny's dating Spidey eventually leads to Johnny actually dating Spidey but pretending he isn't because he doesn't want to give his family the satisfaction of knowing they were right.

***

“You really aren’t going to admit that you’re dating him, are you?” Sue says incredulously. She taps her finger against that very incriminating photo in the tabloid. “You’re kissing him, baby brother, right here.”

“Kissing? Spidey? Me? I would never,” Johnny scoffs, right as he finishes making a date to meet Spidey later that night. “Not in a million years. I am way out of his league. I’m so far above him he can’t even see me.”

Spidey’s going to see plenty of Johnny later tonight, but Sue doesn’t need to know anything about that.

18k identity porn & secret relationship, teen

Tales From The Back Pages

Traincat

Summary:

Peter Parker was born with his words. Johnny Storm's been sure his will be said sarcastically since he was a child. Everything else more or less happens according to plan.

19k soulmates teen

Lightning in a Bottle

Gruoch

Summary:

Peter takes the tablet and looks down at the screen, where a picture of Spider-Man intimately entangled in a passionate embrace with Johnny Storm is displayed across the majority of the Daily Bugle’s home page. TORCH CAUGHT IN SPIDER-MAN’S WEB, the headline reads, bracketed by spider and flame emojis.

Peter looks back up at Tony, who is still staring at him completely stone-faced. 

Tony reaches across the island and taps the screen. “So. What do you have to say about that?”

“Well. For one, I’m a little disappointed with the headline,” Peter offers.

Tony lets his chin drop against his chest, momentarily defeated, before taking a deep breath and once more skewering Peter with a hard look. “You could have at least given me some warning that the two of you are...I mean, I had my suspicions, but—”

“You’re misconstruing the situation. Spider-Man and the Torch are dating,” Peter explains. “Johnny and I are just friends.”

“Boy, you’re really leaning hard into this whole alter ego thing, aren’t you?” Tony deadpans. “How’s that working out for you?”

20k idiots in love, teen

Black Magic, Love, and Other Unexplainable Sensations

gleesquid

Summary:

Once upon a time, a handsome prince needed a fearsome warrior's help to save the entire kingdom. Peter Parker is not entirely sure how he fits into this.

21k fairytale not rated

Play Pretend

Fernandidilly_yo

Summary:

When the city dubs the new vigilant with the name 'Spider-Man' no one questions it. Really it just leads to a lot of speculation of who the man underneath the mask is. 

Nobody would ever guess it's really a fifteen-year-old girl.

26k, fem peter, pre-relationship, gen

Five Times The Human Torch And Spider-Man Failed At Being Incognito, And The One Time They Didn't Even Try

Ademimo

Summary:

There is no better bonding experience than sneaking around together (or, alternatively, around each other) and utterly failing at it. 

In which Peter Parker and Johnny Storm :

- are not that talented at infiltration ;

- really need to sharpen their acting skills ;

- should not be categorized as subtle heroes ;

- should not be considered as talented at social interaction, either, for that matter ;

- and most importantly, see their relationship evolve over the years (it's not romantic, they're friends. Not that they don't wish for more, but the other just doesn't feel that way, okay ?)

OR : Five times the Human Torch and Spider-Man failed at being incognito, and the one time they didn't even try

28k friends to lovers, identity reveal, teen

Lost Without You

lamujerarana

Summary:

Johnny and Peter fall into a wormhole and are sent careening across the universe together. With no hope of rescue, they end up having to figure out their own way home, which isn't as easy as it sounds.

To make matters worse, Johnny's been in love with Peter for a long, long, long time. Nothing's happened ever because Peter doesn't seem too interested, but now Johnny's stuck alone in space with the guy of his dreams and a whole lot of feelings that just won't go away. 

***

Dammit. Johnny just wanted Peter to kiss him. Was it really too much to ask after years of selflessly saving the planet? Johnny deserved that much, universe.

Really he deserved all of the hot guys, gals, aliens, and so on kissing him that he wanted, and he only wanted Peter. He was being reasonable, universe, and yet you still couldn’t come through for him, could you?

Johnny found the universe very disappointing. He ranked it right near the top of his list of the most disappointing things he’d ever come across. Somewhere near The Matrix sequels and that pair of skinny jeans that had made him look anything but.

49k humor teen and up

Peter Parker's Guide to Secret Identities

coocoocachu

Summary:

“Oh wow, it’s the Human Torch, Johnny Storm.” MJ whispered to Peter. Peter just hummed back. Maybe it was a little childish to be upset but he totally had that thing with the weird mutant moth under control last night. Peter leaned against the wall while MJ milled around talking to people trying to figure out what the big scoop was here. ‘There always has to be a reason for an exclusive, Peter!’ she had said. Yeah, Peter thought, and the reason is Johnny Storm loves the attention. Peter fiddled with his camera. Action shots were more his thing, particularly somehow managing to take action selfies of himself as Spider-Man or a few of his supercharged enemies. Pictures of egotistical superhero’s shirtless? Not really his area.

94k identity reveal, teen and up

[fiveredlights]

Loved it!!!! Is there any Benjamin POV of when he found out Max and Daniel were drivers in this world? Like any thought process? It surprised me too that they weren't in his world haha. Thanks for sharing!

okay i managed 400 words of benjamin arriving in the universe and then my brain continued on its holiday in aruba so i’ve written out what would’ve happened afterwards

It's not like Benjamin expected there to be a whole parade when he landed into his DAUD universe, but a room full of people staring at him like he's an alien from another planet feels a little weird.

Technically, he is an alien from outer space—if you equate an alien to a life form, and the other planet is true, but at that point they should consider that we’re all aliens in a planet floating around the universe and there’s no need to stare at him like that.

Or really, they aren’t staring at him. They’re staring at the name emblazoned into his race suit. Or the flag. Maybe they’re struggling to understand why the Dutch and Australian flags are mashed together.

Benjamin worked really hard to get the team and the FIA to approve that. He had to do a whole presentation.

One of the people—his boss he assumes, given that he’s one of the two people to be wearing RB shirts—takes a slow step forward, adjusting the black rounded frames on his face.

“Benjamin—” Ooh, French, “—Ricciardo-Verstappen,” he states, though it’s really more like a question.

“Yeah.” He steps out of the portal tube. “Did I get sent to the wrong universe or?”

“Maybe,” someone in a Red Bull shirt quietly mutters and the other RB shirt guy hits him in the shoulder and scolds, “Christian.”

He has no idea who this Christian guy is but he knows he already doesn’t like him. Giving off bad energy, or whatever Julian uses as an excuse whenever he meets someone he doesn’t like.

“I’m Laurent Mekies, I’m your team principal,” the French—Laurent says. “Can we just confirm who your parents are?”

Everyone in the room seems to lean in and hold their breath. Benjamin thinks they’re all really weird. “Daniel Ricciardo and Max Verstappen. They live in Monaco, or well in my universe they live in Monaco, so maybe they’re in the Netherlands or Australia here.”

Laurent immediately spins onto his heels and they all form some sort of emotional support huddle, like they’re the ones who got sent through to another universe.

“I’ll get Max,” Christian sighs and points a finger at Laurent. “You’re calling Daniel.”

Laurent tenses. “I don’t want to call Daniel. Why can’t you call Daniel? You knew him longer?”

Christian goes very quiet. “I think he’s blocked my number,” he says with no room for further questions as he walks out of the room.

—

benjamin has found a wheely chair to spin around the room in whilst laurent peter and helmut (idk if he's here) debate on who is calling daniel, benjamin's like "I can call Daniel if you don't want to break the news," and frankly it's a bit concerning how three of these very grown men look very ready to take this offer.

eventually someone is like, you know what. we'll get MAX to call him. daniel will answer max's calls and they leave benjamin in the room with laurent whilst the rest of them look in the mirror and wonder what they need to do to atone for this hell-ish situation they've been placed in.

(there is no atonement possible. you must live in the decisions you made. no amount of apologies or prayers will be able to heal the deep, deep scars you have given. zero love and zero light will be given.)

“So Max works here or?” benjamin asks, if only to make small talk so they’re not sitting in silence. laurent takes a very long look, he's confused. he tells him that of course Max works here, he's a driver?? but reigns it in because maybe benjamin was asking if max was at some different RBR factory. or maybe he's asking because he thinks max is in monaco, laurent doesn't possess the brain cells needed right now.

benjamin is thinking oh maybe max's a sim driver. or a test driver. he knows that max's father was a f1 driver, but doesn't really know much else. nowhere in benjamin's brain is the thought that max is a formula 1 driver, and certainly nowhere in benjamin's brain is the thought that he's a 4x WDC.

max walks in, looks at benjamin. benjamin looks back. max walks out.

he walks in again. looks at benjamin again. walks out again.

he walks in again. is about to walk out when benjamin's like, "You know walking out for the third time doesn't activate me being sent back to my universe?"

(internally, max is like, oh my god. he talks exactly like daniel. i'm looking at another daniel. which you know. a little bit insane given that i wrote benjamin to look like max, and benjamin wouldn't really sound like daniel accent wise at least, given that they raised the kids in monaco, but you know. maybe the speech patterns are similar, who the fuck knows. easier to see the parts of the person you love than yourself in your kid. can't blame him, daniel did the exact same thing for like the whole fic.)

max immediately looks around at the whole group of people and does a head nod for benjamin to follow him into his office, and it’s probably not until he sees the replica WDC trophy sitting on a bookcase with max’s name inscribed on it benjamin’s like what the fuck…

in his head benjamin is like, i am hiding the fact that i am shocked about max being a driver so well. he’s not. he’s kinda just staring at the trophy but max is way too distracted about the fact that alternate him had a kid (emphasis on kid, singular) with daniel.

benjamin is stalking around the room looking at EVERYTHING, and he catches the photo of max and daniel in malaysia 2016 and is even more like what the fuck… BOTH of my parents are drivers?????

first thought: they’re both horrible normal road car drivers. maybe it makes sense now.

second thought: god it’s so cool that his parents (or this version of his parents) are formula 1 drivers. that’s like so arguably cool. suck it julian, he KNEW doing the DAUD program was a good thing. 

third thought: do they know sebastian vettel.

in this moment he has decided that this max and daniel cannot know that his max and daniel aren’t drivers. he kinda suspects that max might be going through a quick existential crisis and he’s not making it bigger by telling 4x WDC max that his max is a 0x WDC and has never driven a f1 car in his life. 

(also it has not crossed his mind that this max and daniel are not together. if you saw that photo of malaysia with max looking at daniel doing the shoey like he wants to jump his bones in public, yeah i wouldn’t question it either and end that line of thought immediately.)

i’m learning very quickly that benjamin processes things so quickly that he doesn’t really have time to freak out.

max is processing everything and benjamin is like “are you gonna call dad or?? where is he??”

max: dad?

benjamin: yeah. dad. daniel. this tall. your husband. or partner idk i don’t know, i’m not gonna assume. oh god are you guys broken up here please don’t tell me that. i mean like tell me, but like that’s so weird.

max kinda looks embarrassed and benjamin clocks him so quickly. 

benjamin: oh. you two aren’t together here. you two have never been together here.

max: … yeah

benjamin is immediately like fuck everything about them being drivers what do you MEAN they aren’t together???? he looks at the malaysia photo again. looks at max again. 

benjamin then decided his only goal is to parent trap his parents. which i think he did achieve. good job dude.

[dragqueenstarscream]

Having S3 Knockout/Starscream thoughts because auuuuu they’re so doomeeeeed.

Like, you’ve got Knockout, who needs his aftercare, (and like, yeah, everyone does, but Knockout is especially dependent on it, plus he’s used to Breakdown who was the aftercare master, and ofc those two facts both amplify eachother), and Starscream, who is almost certainly going to insist on domming because by Primus he is not ready to be vulnerable, and is probably gonna be giving no aftercare after because 

A: He’s never really received it himself that often if at all, 

B: Receiving it itself requires that level of emotional vulnerability that low key terrifies him, 

C: Given that aftercare is generally a foreign concept to him, his preference of what he prefers his doms to do once they’re done is to just leave so he has space to dissociate (why is this man so tragic), he probably on some level figures that’s probably also what Knockout wants him to do, so he thinks he’s doing him a favor,

and D: He probably still needs to go dissociate himself, which he didn’t expect would still happen even though he wasn’t subbing, the deeply traumatized fuck he is.

And given that they’re both catty bitches it’s not like they’re gonna talk about this afterwards and try and work through these problems, Knockout is probably gonna just say “yeah, this was a mistake, let’s not do that again” the next day and internally Starscream will be like oh thank Primus because he was just not ready for all that.

And the thing about them is that under non-toxic circumstances while they’d still probably be friends, they would under most circumstances probably never fuck, because they’re really not sexually compatible. They’re just not eachothers types, they both are mostly into big hunky mechs and the only reason they, being a pair of twinks, fucked is because at that point in time they were eachothers only non-actively-hostile relationships, and they were both desperate for the idealized version of a (for lack of a better term) human connection that they both were deeply craving but not ready to deal with the real, messy, complicated version of.

As decent as the sex itself might have been, the overall experience was deeply unsatisfying for both of them, so in the end this whole situationship gets filed away as an unfulfilling rebound fling, so it's really no wonder that when push came to shove the prospect of aimlessly roaming the galaxy with this guy didn't really appeal to Knockout.

and it's just this deeply tragic situation where while someone (Optimus, it's Optimus) could have "fixed" (read: assisted in the healing process of) Starscream, Knockout was under no obligation to be that person, even if it meant the end of Starscream's story was him getting tossed around by dragons. It's just so unfortunate.

anyways, just so this post isn't a complete downer, I do see a few circumstances where things could have worked out between them, I could see Starscream getting thrown into KO/BD working out well, maybe in some universe where Starscream succeeded in killing Megatron in S1 and ended up leader of the Decepticons with Knockout as his 2IC. Not only because Breakdown is just the absolute sweetest and as stated before, the master of aftercare, but also because Knockout still having his stability in Breakdown and not being high key depressed would probably make him more likely to want to take on a "pet project" in Starscream, so to speak. I also remember a while ago you made a post about a OP/KO/SS (sidenote, its so funny to me how the moment Knockout enters a ship the names just get reduced to letters) fic you wanted to write, I don't think I mentioned it at the time but I absolutely would read that if you made it.

So yeah, Knockout and Starscream aren't inherently doomed, but boy howdy did it turn out that way.

ohhhhhh man, these two are another guilty pleasure of mine, but yes. they are absolutely doomed with the way the narrative played out.

the way you said it pretty much sums it up. these two are searching for something in each other that neither of them will be able to find.

knock out needs someone to take care of him. he needs someone to really love him the way breakdown did. he needs someone who's willing to take care of him and make him feel like he's needed, even if he's not that open about it. it's why ratchet being grateful for him was one of the big tipping points which led him to join the autobots, the way i see it. whether or not he was into ratchet, that's up to you, but either way, he was needed.

and starscream needs to heal. this bot has been through so much, from leaving cybertron to losing his trine, and that's not even getting into all of the bullshit he's had to put up with concerning megatron. he doesn't have the strength to be emotionally vulnerable because he's afraid of the consequences of opening himself up. knock out can be a release for him, a way to just forget everything for a while, to not be himself.

so, these two, being each other's only stable relationship aboard the nemesis, sought what they needed in each other. of course this was never going to end up healthy. if they were just back on cybertron, away from the war, they probably would've been those catty best friends who are practically attached at the hip and love to judge everyone together. but in a sexual relationship? aboard the nemesis? in the middle of a war? this was doomed to fail.

it could work, though. i can see where you're coming from with ko/bd/ss, especially if megatron either stayed gone or straight up died. starscream wouldn't have to put up with megatron's shit anymore, and, since breakdown was still there, knock out and breakdown would be able to have that stability. this might leave knock out with a desire to bring starscream into their relationship, should the three of them be into that.

and i'm glad you brought up ko/op/ss or knockstarop, because it's an underrated idea and probably my ot3! the way i see them, optimus and knock out would probably get together first, but the both of them have expressed interest in starscream, so they invite him into their relationship and now they don't have to pick and choose between each other. more love to go around!

but yeah. as much as i enjoy ko/ss, they were probably never gonna turn out healthy with how canon went.

[ultimat3-lif3form]

I go off-line for like 2 days and now you're the king of hell?? Someone said you confessed to Sonic?? What's happening???? What's the cube???????

Yeah… a lot happens in two days, they like to put me through it..

I guess, as a recap,

My dna-giver, Black Doom, showed up out of nowhere… I don’t think he’s exactly the one from my universe, because this one is apparently actually the devil…and I also don’t remember mine acting like….… anyways, he ended up getting frustrated because every single evil plan he had, had already been done by billionaires and YouTubers, so he ended up going into retirement….leaving me as, apparently, the heir to his throne. Powers and all….which….. I don’t understand what those powers exactly are, I already had access to the powers from mutations that being exposed to Doom’s blood had caused, I’m not sure what this new revelation adds to that, yet….. I can tell…. It alters my metal faculties slightly, but I’m not sure how severe that is…… it is concerning nonetheless.

During a bit of a power trip, I may or may not have promised… to kiss a certain someone…. If a post I made got 1000 notes. I know now not to challenge sonadow fans. Because that goal was hit in just two hours….

So, uhm…. We ended up having a, er….heart to heart… got back on the same page….

The torment cube is a cube where torment happens, I think….. I don’t know…. It’s another one of the things that Doom left lying around after he left. There’s also a second eclipse cannon in Hell…..

[sad-trash-hobo]

Friendly reminder that in another universe Anakin leaves the jedi order after the Umbara campaign and took the whole 501st legion with him and Ahsoka followed him and they went to Tatooine to meet up with Kitster and freed the slaves and while they were checking the freed for chips, they checked the Clones as well and got all the chips out of the 501st and killed Jabba and the rest of the slavers. And then Anakin took up podracing again and taught all the Clones how to be moisture farmers and reunited with Owen and Beru and helped fix up their farm. And when the Chancellor tried to reach out to Anakin to get him to come back Rex overhears the whole conversation and hits Anakin over the head and explains what grooming is and Anakin realizes how awful the Chancellor is. Anakin comms Padme to let her know and to tell her that he's coming back to Coruscant to clear the Clones of their chips and Fox has another scanner made and they clear out all the Clones and stage an assassination and kill the Chancellor and Padme votes Bail in as the new Chancellor. And then Dooku realizes how stupid the whole war was and pulls out to become an actual Count and just living in peace and having fun. Anakin spends his time podracing while Kix tries not to have a panic attack and lives on Naboo with Padme and spends a week or two in Tatooine to make sure everything is going ok with Kitster and making sure he has all the supplies he needs to continue freeing slaves throughout the galaxy. Just so yall know

[emmavakarian-theirin]

the way the music died at just the right moment made this so perfect

[bmpmp3]

finding out ur coworker is way older than you thought and having to very quickly reorient how you talk to them

[twiggyrogue]

If it wasn't for the TMAGP ARG snippets I probably wouldn't be as obsessed about Sam but oh my goddd with what tiny we know about him I'm not over it. He's got a canon birthday (!!! He's 33 at the start of the show! It's p cool to know that tbh!) so we know when the Institute burned down, he was 9 year old. So at nine, maximum, he went through the Institute's child experiment. That's age he went through potentially a version of the Milgrim experiment! Mr. Spider whom, this child might have actively tortured someone because he was told to?? And that's probably the terrible event that was brought up in the interview but maybe it wasn't! Maybe it's something worse!! Oh no!!!

The guy scored the highest in empathy in the entire test group at 98% and now his job is experiencing other people's horrors like of course he can't help but look into them, of course he can't help but internalize them when Alice has warned him of what can happen, I'm so worried about this man!!!

[throamguide]

hi!! do u know why anna decided not to rewrite and publish throam as an original work?

Hi! First off, some background: even in 2017-2018, when Anna was posting about the rewrite and talking about publishing it, she was open about the fact that it might never happen: "A rewritten version might never get published, anyway, so don't freak out." (X)

It also wouldn't be easy to rid it of its fanfiction past, as with something like 50 Shades of Gray (Twilight AU fic) because of THROAM's relative internet fame.

Anna also disliked when bandom people IRL (people she wrote about) would find out about THROAM because of fans bringing it up to them. Which is completely understandable. Because it happened quite a bit. She sums it up well in a heated post from 2019: Choice. And it had to be said because a lot of people ended up referencing, asking about, or even reading THROAM, presumably because of fans: Dallon, Jon, Vicky, Keltie, Z Berg...

Anna also moved away from bandom in general and started writing about K-pop groups (she's still at it!) and hinted at some original fiction. Finleighsaid, her URL towards the end of her Tumblr days, was some sort of reference to an original character of her's (I think?).

While writing this I had a look at the THROAM Fanlore page (which I helped write because my teenage self had no life) and found Anna's explanation as to why she stopped rewriting it:

March 25, 2019

Monday confessionals - I haven’t even had wine or anything. Some juice, though. Is sugar a drug?

Anyway, it is yet again that I have not posted anything here for a good while, and in the interest of Managing Expectations (whose? idk) I thought I’d give an update. Or, nay, a nopedate. (I’m sorry, I’m trying.) When last summer I decided that perhaps I ought to work the trilogy towards publication, I was working part-time and was kind of weighing my options as to what to do in life. (I still am. Is anyone out there a career counsellor? Please send me some help, thanks.) Anyway, I had time to work on the rewrite in cafés after or before work, and I was quite into it! Then I swapped for a full-time job and all of my rewrite efforts, essentially, ceased. I realise now why I wrote the story when I was a student: I had sooooo much time. From 2009 to 2019, I suddenly don’t have that luxury anymore.

So what I am saying is that, from my end, and for now, the project is definitely on hiatus. You know, like one of your favourite emo bands. I don’t want to mislead people into thinking I am actively working on the project when I haven’t touched it in weeks or even months. I don’t know if my situation will change in the future, or if this is the universe telling me to let it go. I know some people definitely want me to just let the story be! And I know some really want to see it published, too. And you know what, if I ever did publish it, people would always just shrug it off as bandom fic, and it’s hard for me to deal with the reality of people constantly looking down at something I love very dearly. So I have my hesitations and reservations, and I have Dean stood at Venice Beach in 1969, staring at the waves and a decade of stardom.

I have always been my most successful in producing and finishing stories when I have selfishly written whatever makes me happy. I suppose the rewrite is not that for me right now.

Thank you for your patience. Soul searching is hard. xx

[caint-see-me]

This has been a long day. But I am on my way back. Other Alfred told me what needs to be done.

[totheidiot]

i hate that the solar eclipse just now serves as a reminder that nobody loves me.