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astrologylunadream · 18 days

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Do They Have Romantic Feelings for You? 🫧🌸💋 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

Hey it's Lunadream!💕 Here is a lovely reading on the person on your mind and if they have romantic feelings towards you!🥰 hope you find your message🎀 It's been a while since I've posted a reading! I've been taking care of my personal life, and working on readings as I can. Thank you all for your patience and love~💗

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~💌🫧

Pile 1🩷

Pile 2🍒

Pile 3🌸

Pile 4🍓

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> 💕

Pile 1🩷

Sign energy: Flame, Love at first sight, Late, First love, Teeth, 9th house, Earth, Sun, 12th house, Aquarius,💬🦀🤙💡

🫧Your person's energy: Okay so first this person could be in a no contact situation for some of you, no surprise this is someone that most of you have romantic feelings towards!🥰💗 They are very bright and it's like they can light up the entire world around them. Can we talk about this person's smile?🤭 It's just so attractive and beautiful. Twin flame/soulmate energy up in here!!!❤️‍🔥 There is a lot of curiousity about your person, you are fascinated in them and this could be because they are different than you in some way.👀 Your person could be from a different background/culture or have some unique strange quality that makes them stand out to you✨️ This is already so cute omg pile 1 you're so curious about this person~ So there is Sagittarius, Leo, Pisces and Aquarius energy for your person. Earth energy oh also there is some Cancer symbolism with the crab emoji so that may resonate for some of you.😘 For some of my pile 1's they could be born in a late phase of their sun sign, so like instead of being a leo in july they could be a late leo in august kind of thing so just apply that to their sun sign!☀️ Yeah so for A LOT of my pile 1's this is a twin flame or soulmate connection, it feels so fated omg😩🩷 This could be your first love for some of you, or a love at first sight kind of happened with this person. I just feel there is a lot of love for your person, it's really sweet you guys💗 Now some of your person's traits, they have special qualities about them. They're intelligent and have great ideas💭 They are also creative and communicate in a strange yet captivating way. It may be hard to understand them sometimes. Specific message for some in this pile you may have met them online, studying abroad or during travel and fell so hard😂😭 This person is so unique to you aha you see them as something special⭐️

💗Do they have romantic feelings for you: Roots, Winter, Chiron, Build, Head, Fire, Aries, 11th house, Leo, Neptune,🖤🤞🚷😮‍💨 Wow okay there is a surprisingly intense energy I'm getting. This is more of a deep physical attraction they have for you, also a lot of erotic desire. You could be in this persons mind, I mean deep in it😳 I feel like they may have a damaged ego or some sort of self doubt about their feelings for you guys, maybe they want to make wrong assumptions about you in their head for whatever reason? At the bottom of this is a lot of heavy passion for you, but I think they're trying to convince themselves otherwise.😕 Yeah they might be trying to turn themselves against you in their mind, or not letting themselves desire you because it brings out a more dark aggressive side to them.💢❤️‍🔥 Yeah you definitely set them on fire, their mind gets heated with you😭 I'm surprised by the physical tension on this one, I feel like your person is having a huge inner conflict about you. They may want you gone only because they can't handle themselves fantasizing about taking you over every night😭🔞 I won't go into detail but this person is fighting their demons about you LOL pile 1 your person is hooked🪝 Winter may be a significant time for their feelings. Yeah I think this person is loosing it about you, but they're just like telling themselves not to give in to their intense passion you bring out of them.🤯❤️‍🔥 Like they know you unleash a monster out of them and they're just like "god no please no" lol I'm hearing The Office.😂 They are unconsciously fantastizing a lot, some hot scenarios with you. They wanna believe you're bad for them, because you have such a magnetic pull on them my pile 1's!🤭 You are stuck in this person's mind, they're burning with passion yet trying to deny it. They get so fired up about you that it burns them out easily. They may feel you drain their energy, because you're so captivating to them. But they are like a moth to your flame I'm hearing🔥 Dangerous attraction vibes~✨️ Pile 1 you are deeply desired they can't even fight themselves!!😍

💌Messages from your person: This is consuming, Nothing is stopping you, I see us together, Don't tell me, You've been busy, You're the one that I want, Tell me, You're my addiction (Yess so much intense attraction for my pile 1's😭❤️‍🔥) Extra cards: Achievement, Together, Seen, Want, Art, 8th house, Gemini, Leo, Aries, Uranus (They want you, they want you guys to be seen together and not hide your connection you are like a work of art to them😭 hot energy)

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🎀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the pink heart emoji~🩷 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🤗💋💞

Pile 2🍒

Sign energy: Past life, Nice, Question, Unhealthy, Anonymous, Libra, Eros, Aquarius, Juno, North node,🩱🐦‍🔥😁🕵️‍♀️

🫧Your person's energy: Wow okay so this is someone physically appealing to you guys, some of you find them really hot I'm getting😂 This person has a nice figure, there is a feminine touch to their appearance especially something about their lower body. They have a nice smile, actually it's really hot😳❤️‍🔥 Signs coming through are Libra and Aquarius so mostly air energy, I am getting a venus vibe from your person also venus-uranus aspects are possible.🩷 Oh okay so some of you may be viewing this person's social media often, many of my pile 2's are spending way too much time on the internet📱💔 Please take breaks from too much time online my lovely pile 2's you will feel much better I promise!✨️ Some of you could be frequenting your person's profile or photos online to an extent that may not be healthy, this could be you or them take what resonates. This may be someone you're interacting with inderectly or behind a screen, it's also possible that you aren't revealing your idenity to this person.👤🔍 Now that could be the other way around for some of you in this pile, they could be the one stalking you from online or looking at your photos it may even be both if that resonates!🫢 This person speaks very well and charms others easily with their uniqueness. They make you very curious and you want to know more about them, some of you may view this person as marriage material💍💕 You may want to commit to them in the future, oh and it is very likely that this is someone you knew from a past life! Your person is intelligent and charming, and that alone ignites sudden passion from within you🔥❤️‍🔥 It may feel like the tempature rises when you see them.🌡 Like all they would have to do is sit still and look pretty and just that makes you want to grab them and kiss them!!!😩💋 They can really turn you on tbh😳 And you wonder if they feel that way about you! Their figure is really special and attractive to you 🍑😉😉😉 They probably dress really well, they're so appealing and attractive!💗

💗Do they have romantic feelings: Eternity, Uniqueness, Guardian, Song, High, Uranus, 4th house, Chiron, North node, Taurus,💣🎤⚓️🕹 So they see you as someone special!🥰 This is really looking like yes honestly, I mean you are just so unique and unlike any other to this person.😩💖 You make them feel safe and healed, they feel a very comforting type of love from my pile 2's. They may love to listen to songs you like or share similar interests in music!🎶 There may be a song that will feel special to only you two in the future, could be a song that plays at your wedding😂🙈💓 Whatever the case there will be a song that is special to you and them, maybe they will listen to your favorite song and it will become their favorite.🥺 Aw another thing, your voice is really attractive to them. You are like a guardian to your person, they feel safe and protected by you. You are like the anchor that keeps your person from drifting far into the ocean, I also think they love your playful side🩷 I'm hearing "You're the bomb!" Lol maybe they find you very entertaining and fun.🥰 There is a lot of venus energy in this reading so there is many romantic feelings from your person. You feel like home to them, and it would be hard for this person to ever let you go.😭💔 You give them comfort and a sense of belonging, they see you as a knight in shining armor (regardless of gender) and feel saved by you. It's really sweet you guys this person has such pure love for you. They feel like you guys have a future together, and by future they mean possibly eternity.💗🥺 Haha they really care about you a lot and are so fascinated by you. Just know this person thinks you are so special and unique!⭐️ You are such an individual to your person, they admire the way you stand out and love this about you😭 I'm hearing "let you steer the boat" maybe they feel safe and would entrust you to take control of any situation involving you both. I'm also hearing "high hopes" so they feel very hopeful and confident in your abilities that is so sweet omg they think highly of you😢💕

💌Messages from your person: I have dark thoughts about you, What is love? Forget it, You're my angel, I would reject anyone for you, Is it too late now? Only god knows, I would write you a love song. (So cute🥰 Pile 2 you are their angel!) Extra cards: Conflict, Spring, Cafe, Myth, Words, Fire, Aquarius, Moon, 6th house, 3rd house (There may be a blockage in communication or being able to contact this person for some of you, or it was a hurtful conversation between you for some of my pile 2's but whatever the case your person wishes to communicate with you and be able to understand and connect with you better💗🫂)

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🎀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the cherry emoji~🍒 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🤗💋💞

Pile 3🌸

Sign energy: Flower, Do or die, More, Note, Mine, Juno, Earth, Leo, South node, 5th house,🕳🙅‍♂️🤙🦀

🫧Your person's energy: Haha so the first thing I noticed is that Flower came out and this pile has flowers on it's imagery I think that's very interesting.☺️ There is Leo energy as well as earth energy for this pile's person! Picking up on 5th house placements from your person, also there is cancer symbolism aswell. Another thing is they could have earth over their 6th house for some of my pile 3's. they have a glowing presence about them🌟🤭 Their gaze just came to mind, maybe their eyes draw you in like a black hole lol🕳🖤 They are very attractive and noticable, people from their past keep coming back for more I'm hearing. To you guys, I'm getting you think of them as YOUR person like only yours.😳 Like they belong to you, because you wanna claim this person.💍😱 I am getting a vibe this is a look don't touch kind of person, like they know people staring at them and they're just like no touching.😎🖐🚫 They don't like people to get too close to them for some of you, but this is because they are actually very delicate🥺💞 That could be from something they've been through or going through. This could be someone you lost contact with for some of you and the connection may have ended but you persist!✊️ Your person is specifically very talented in their hobbies, and are usually open to the type of feedback that helps them grow😇 Okay for a few of you this person doesn't wanna talk to you take whatever resonates for my pile 3's! You may have tried to call them or contact them in some way, you could be someone from their past aswell. This person is very caring and protective over the people they love, also they're very cool😉✨️ Lol they have a nice vibe. This could be someone you had crush on for a while but you thought you were over it or things just blossomed very quickly between you two. Your person is creative and really good at whatever they do😂💗 They take care of their appearance, oh you know what I just realized the liking system on tumblr is notes so you could be noting certain posts revolving this person a lot whether it be actual posts of them or just many readings about them omg pile 3 that's so cute🥰!!!

💗Do they have romantic feelings: Dragon, Butterfly, June, My everything, Despair, Saturn, Fire, Libra, Virgo, Vertex,🍀🛗😌👊 Wow interesting so there is or was a big change in this persons feelings, like a transformation.🤯 June came out and the time I'm doing this reading it's going to be june soon so that is a significant sign of their feelings in the month of june!!!🙊💞 Maybe this person's feelings have changed or developed in some way that they're trying to resist or repress. They could be making a decision about you in june or the next month. Wow okay this is a huge message but A FEW of my pile 3's may end up in a relationship with this person in june, if not then romance will be in the air for the two of you!😩🙏 Your person thinks of you a lot and you are the world to them.🌏💗😭 Wait wait it's the year the dragon which is a sign of this year, guys something is going to happen this june for this person. They could be going through a change or transformation in their inner feelings and thinking🤯 This is a very lucky year and the energy proves it.🤭💞 Your person could be restricting their feelings towards you in some way, perhaps they're an overthinker when it comes to you💬🫣 They could have a lot of ups and downs about you, sometimes they feel hopeful and fateful and other times they feel hopeless and unmotivated.😞💔 But seriously guys, destiny is written all over this persons feelings for you!! Soon could be a time they rise up past their own doubts and insecurities about you, and there is definitely a sense of interest towards you.🩷 They need to fight their worries with confidence! This person can find you very cute, and you sit in the back of their mind a lot☺️🧠 If this person didn't feel anything towards you in the past it's becoming a shift in feelings for them. They could be making a descision about you, that could be opening up to you or accepting new feelings for you. Some of you this person may confess, or reveal their feelings and intentions.💭💕 Pile 3 this is so amazing there is so much hope from this person soon, I feel they will finally be able to rest their mind about you eventually and face whatever is effecting their connection with you.😇 They find you sweet and beautiful, also you could give them butterflies🤭💖

💌Messages from your person: For now, I wish I could stop thinking of you, I'm still the same person you loved, You don't need to take care of me, I think you're a great person, I would kill for you, You're so funny, Don't be sad (AH omg and them overthinking about you is right😫💓) Extra cards: Dominant, Surprise, Kabedon, Grey, Neptune, Scorpio, Uranus, Leo, Pisces, Virgo (Yeah they wanna take over your dreams and you're all up in their fantasies, especially dark ones😭😈)

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🎀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the pink blossom emoji~🌸 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🤗💋💞

Pile 4🍓

Sign energy: Play, Lavender, Conflict, Liar, Found, Mars, 7th house, Earth, 11th house, 8th house,🚨🐙🚺🍄

🫧Your person's energy: Ohh okay this is someone that feels like you have a romantic drama with, I mean like you don't know if you should stay or go.👀🙊 Some of you are in contact with this person, others maybe not. Possible signs are Aries, Scorpio, Libra, and Aquarius, there is a masculine energy here. Your person is very captivating and attractive, but they have a darker side you may not have been aware of at first.👿😳 For a select few of my pile 4's I'm seeing this is someone who played you, or sabotaged your relationship somehow.💔 You might think they're a liar or they lied to you, maybe they got exposed for something too. Your person is intense and romantic but they may be in a bit of a red flag energy for some (be careful😬) Lavender may be significant, whether it's the color or scent. This person is slightly mischievous and may be susceptible to getting in trouble. You could be obsessed or in love with this person ever since you saw them, but there is a lot of tension around this person.😟🔥 I was picking up on a very masculine energy but your person has a feminine side also, which is a more grounded and attentive side of them. They can surprisingly be very detail-oriented and sweet when they aren't in a harsher energy.🥺💞 Some of my pile 4's had or having conflict with this person, could be through online or fights around friends. This person could have caused you to turn to escapism which could be spiritual practices that you escape through too like this reading.🕯 I think your person is all over the place a little, to be honest with the octopus emoji and female sign I'm going to say ONLY for some in this pile this person may be involved with multiple feminines at the same time and it's catching up with them.✋️⚠️ It is possible that certain people are just obsessed with your person and want to throw themselves onto them, but with Liar, Play, Found, Conflict, Mars, 7th house AND 8th house... I'm sorry it just sounds like a huge message😭 I JUST REALIZED the mushroom can symbolize illusions or deception😳 I'm sorry but some of my lovely pile 4's might be the ones deceived or disillusioned about this person. It feels like a really bad boy/girl energy, magnetic but very dangerous. But they're hot as hell🥵

💗Do they have romantic feelings: Rebellion, Broken, Role, Lose, My love, 11th house, Moon, Lilith, 9th house, Eros,🪤💣🖤😚 WTF😫 They feel guilty for something OML. So this person has a lot of intense emotions about you, their heart is broken or they feel like they broke yours.💔 They feel like they played the bad guy, the villain, and they lost you or are losing you because of this. They are in a really dark place about you, they feel exposed for their true nature.🔦 Like you're seeing a bad side of them. I can't believe Lose and My Love came out right next to eachother wtf... It feels like they might lose the love of their life, which is pile 4. This is so crazy. They feel trapped, perhaps behind a screen or they can't reach you.📵 If this is an ex, this person wants you back BAD. They feel like they messed up their image and destroyed the one thing they were supposed to love and care for. What is this😥😭😖 Maybe they feel like they have no part in your life or they played a bad part in it, and that really hurts them deeply. They may be running away from contact with you, or ghosted you on social media. They might not be talking to their friends either because of their feelings. This person is in love with you but they feel terrible, like everything is ruined.🌪🔥 They also feel like they lost their freedom? This person is a hell of emotions over you, I'm hearing "lost all hope". They feel desperate, they almost wish they could trap you and keep you because they're afraid you're going to wanna get away from them. They wish they could make you theirs, I'm not going to go into detail about it but they're freaking out because they're madly attracted to you on an intimate level and they wish they could tie you up and dominate you, keeping you theirs.😰🔞 They might fantasize about doing those things because they feel like they can't have you. Part of them doesn't want to look bad to you, but at the same time they feel like there's no going back and you've already discovered the worst parts of them.👿 You do turn this person on, and they want to kiss you and make everything right.☹️💋🖤 Whatever it was that put a wedge between you two, they want to heal your emotional wounds and play the saint rather than sinner. I'm hearing some of you may have dropped them or are going to, and they have intense romantic feelings towards you and want to keep holding on to you because they're so scared of losing you.😳🤝

💌Messages from your person: Look at me, I wish we could have met, I can't comprehend, You can't comprehend, You always look so sad, Don't let them bring you down, What do you think of me? Why would you want me? (Pile 4 they don't feel like you want them at all😫 They still care about you a lot.🫂 Your person is very confused about the connection right now, but they just hope you're alright🖤) Extra cards: Devotion, Inactivity, Boy, Self-sabotage, Family, Lilith, Jupiter, Eros, Aquarius, 12th house, (They feel like they weren't or aren't being devoted to you enough and it's destroying them😭 There is a lot of passion and intense emotions from them about my pile 4's)

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!🎀

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the strawberry emoji~🍓 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading🤗💋💞

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

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yuki-world · 8 months

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那维莱特 | NEUVILLETTE ; WORK

summary | a man like neuvillette has so many responsibilities placed upon him, its impossible to not be thinking of work 24/7… until his assistant proposes something that might help him relief some of that stress.

tags | nsfw (smut), fem!reader, clothed sex, cockwarming, belly bulge, creampie, 1.9k words

a/n : everyone probably already wrote about cockwarming neuvi in his office but its soooo him

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“sorryー you want to what?”

neuvillette almost chokes on his own saliva at your request, as he tries to contain himself. he clears his throat, once, twice, staring at you with raised eyebrows.

“apologies, neuvillette. i only come with good intentions,” you reply, slightly bowing. that innocent smile on your face is a crime in itself; as if you didn’t just suggest such an inappropriate idea to the iudex of fontaine.

his eyes widen as he tries to give a reply, but nothing comes to mind. he’s never like thisー always a calm, collected man. someone who always knew what to say. yet at this moment, no words come out.

“just… repeat your suggestion,” he tries to clarify, because he’s had to have heard you wrongly.

“of course, neuvillette,” you say, lifting your head up from your prior bowing position. “i suggested to cockwarm you while you do your work.”

so he didn’t hear it wrong. never would he expect such dirty words coming out from you, so direct as if it were a normal thing to do, someone who he placed full faith on as his assistant of years to always be professional andー

“neuvillette, you always look so stressed, even now…” you trailed off, slowly making your way closer to his desk. your eyes glanced at his hand, where he gripped his ink pen a little too tightly. it looked like it might snap in two. “i figured i could be of more help as your assistant.”

his eyes follow you as you place both hands on his desk. he just couldn’t help it when his gaze falls from your face to your chest.

neuvillette sighs, closing his eyes. this is so unlike you, so unlike him. “that is… highly inappropriate and very vulgar of you, y/n,” he scolds, conflicted. it was certainly unexpected of you to bring up something like that. i mean, couldn’t you have suggested something else to relieve his stress? something more appropriate? but then again…

“is that so, neuvillette? then, why aren’t you rejecting it?” you ask, your boldness taking the both of you by surprise.

no matter how strict he sounded, or tried to sound, he couldn’t reject itー didn’t want to reject it. a part of him knows how good it would feel, just to have the warmth of your cunt squeezing around his cock as he goes through stacks upon stacks of paperwork, mind occupied with how your walls tighten around him and milk his cock instead of how many cases he has to deal with for the next couple of days. you’d probably whine and squirm around him like the impatient brat you’d be, begging for him to fuck you on the desk.

even as his expression remains stern, the strain in his pants tell a different story.

neuvillette brings himself back to reality, releasing the pen that he didn’t notice he had such a tight grip on. fuck, he thinks. relief from stress sounds so good right now, he doesn’t think about asking you again. he deserves a break every once in a while; he reasons with himself. “come here, y/n.”

you had to stop yourself from smiling as you practically skipped over to him. of course he would take up that offer, especially when it came from you. who could blame him, when his pretty little assistant was so eager to sit on his cock?

he pulls you onto his lap, your back facing him. his own thighs spread yours apart. you feel his bulge instantly, trying to grind on it to relieve yourself. his hands reach up to your hips immediately, holding you down to stop you from moving. how naughty, he thinks. aren’t you just so eager to have his cock inside you? you must’ve been fantasizing about this for a long time.

he lowers his pants just enough for his cock to spring out, tapping it a few times on your panties. “you still have a chance to revoke your offer,” he states, and you scoff.

“oh please neuvillette, you really think i’m going to go back on my suggestioー ahh…”

you get cut off with your own moan as he uses his cock to nudge your panties aside, slipping in with no resistance at all from how wet you were. it squelches as he enters; not even a second in and his cock was already dripping with your juices. he throws his head back against the chair, letting out a deep groan. he has to hold himself back from thrusting up into you, remembering the original offer was to cockwarm, nothing else.

he felt so big inside of you, almost like you could feel it in your throat. neuvillette, unaware as he shifts to find the ideal position to do his work, nudges his cock further into you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. “nghー neuvillette!” you cry out, but he doesn’t say anything, just shushes you and tightens the grip that his fingers have on your waist anytime you try to bounce on his cock. he reaches for the same pen, trying his absolute best in maintaining his composure while he continues his work.

…

time passes so slowly. it seemed like forever as neuvillette sorted out his work like you weren’t even there. he would let out a couple sighs every once in a while, but that was about it.

you on the other hand, continue to writhe around on his lap, finding any way to stimulate yourself. even though you were the one who suggested this, it felt like torture for his cock to just sit inside of you without any movement. “neuvillette…” you whine again, hoping he would give in.

but oh, the self-restraint that neuvillette has right now to not lift you onto the desk and fuck your brains out while you’re sprawled out all over his paperwork, is worthy of an applause. how he does it? he doesn’t know. what he does know is that each time you squeeze around his cock, it’s definitely on purpose. “stop that immediately, you’re distracting me,” he reprimands, but his words hold no weight as you continue doing it anyway. at some point, he was halfway done with his work, not a single hint of stress creeping up on him at all. quite productive he must say; your cunt works wonders.

you don’t stop squeezing, trying to bring him to his limit. he has to be close, right? he can stop you from moving, but tightening around him like that was something out of his control.

he groans as you continue your adminstrations around him, grinding onto the base of his cock as his grip slowly released from you. “don’t think i don’t know what you’re doing, hm? just a little more work, be patient.” neuvillette buries his face into the back of your neck, picking up the scent of the perfume you always use. you smelt so good, he could just eat you up.

as you start slipping off his lap, he adjusts his position with an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to himー and then he feels it. his hand was at where your tummy was protruding slightly, cock nestling right where it belonged. was this there the entire time? “y/n, is that..?” he questions, and you nod, letting out a gasp when he applies pressure onto that spot. that was his breaking point.

neuvillette couldn’t take it anymore. the sight of your tummy bulging ever so slightly, taking the shape of his cock, was too much for him. he lifts you onto his desk, some papers getting crumpled and falling off his table, but he could honestly care less. you gasp when he spreads your legs, tapping his glistening cock a few times on your pussy, before entering in one thrust, just as easily as before. “neuvillette! whaー”

he doesn’t even give you time to adjust. his hips move against yours almost immediately as he continuously pounds into you, he’s absolutely ruthless. truly the chief of justice; making you feel so good like that. he leans down, elbows beside your head as he pushes his cock so much deeper into you, he hits your cervix. “neuvilletteー pleaseー you’re so deepー nngh!” he clicks his tongue at your volume, kissing you to silence you, for someone might actually hear. hell, he didn’t even know if the door was locked.

your moans getting louder each time he thrusts has his cock twitching and his hips stuttering. he couldn’t believe it, after all these years of being so formal with you, only to end up being the one fucking your brains out. not very professional of him, but he’ll deal with the consequences later.

your fingers grip the edge of his wooden desk as he slams into you over, and over, and over again. almost like he was letting out all his pent out stress onto you, which… was your original intention anyway. his speed doesn’t falter, not even a little.

“was this what youー mmhー wanted? is that why you brought up that suggestion? you knew it would end up like this, isn’t thatー ahー right?” he accuses, and you let out a moan in response. he saw right through you.

neuvillette was so close, he could cum at any moment right now. but of course, he’s a gentleman, so he’ll let you have your orgasm. it was well-deserved; his thanks to you for bringing up such a suggestion. he bites the tip of his glove, pulling it off his hand and throwing it aside. his thumb reaches for your clit, rough circular movements bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“i’m so close, neuvillette, please i begー ahh,” you pleaded. with how his name rolls off your tongue, seems like he has no choice but to give you what he wants. after all, you asked so nicely.

your walls tighten around him as your orgasm washes over you, fingers tangled in his hair, gripping onto him for dear life but he doesn’t stop thrusting. you were so sensitive, your thighs tried to close around him to stop him from moving, but he pushes them wider and fucks harder into you.

“you’re so wetー ah fuck,” he curses as he starts to lose his consistent pace. he was so close, he could feel himself cumming as his balls tighten up, cock throbbing inside you.

“can you take it, y/n? can you take my cum?” neuvillette asks, pinning your hands above your head.

“yes! inside, cum inside,” you begged, and he does just that. his cock plunges into your pussy for the last time as he cums inside you, an immediate warm feeling coating your lower half. “fuckー!” he hisses as he stills inside you, what feels like never-ending spurts of cum being pumped inside you. his white seed leaks out of your entrance, dripping down your ass and onto the desk… probably on a few documents as well.

he makes the smart decision to not pull out immediately. his cum would definitely gush out and stain everything.

he releases the grip on your wrists, soothing the red marks gently with a kiss. “y/n, you have my thanksー for relieving my stress.”

you sigh, exhausted, but contented. “i’ll be here the next time you’re stressed,” you offer, adding a quick winkー and then you feel him harden again inside you.

“i think i’m still stressed now, actually.”

ー @yuki-world

#雪| 那维莱特 neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette smut #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader smut

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yandere-sins · 2 months

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How'd you think Yandere luci and Yandere Mammon would deal with a S/O who's hiding the fact they're a virgin and is always trying to avoid intercourse by excuses like pretending to be asleep etc because they don't want to lose their virginity to them? (ALSO BTW, I LOVE YOUR WORK. like your work is super amazing and detailed <3 best yan writer)

Thank you for reading my writing!! I am so glad you enjoy it ^-^

And thank you for requesting! ♥

Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Lucifer

♡ As if he doesn't know. You might be able to fool another human, and maybe someone as dense as Mammon, but you can't fool Lucifer. He had already noticed you shying away from his touch, the goosebumps and sudden tension that would go through you every time he touched you (rather innocently even). It's like you expected something to happen and are unsure how to react. Maybe you don't want it, perhaps you do, but your signals aren't very clear, and that makes him suspect you.

♡ He could blame it on some form of trauma that he doesn't know about, but he'd expect your reactions to be a bit more violent or fueled by rejection if that was the case. Instead, they are bashful and tense, with a taste of sweetness and innocence that Lucifer quite likes. And he caught Asmo giving you a knowing look once while you seemed even more hesitant to approach the 5th oldest brother; you made it much too easy for Lucifer to figure out what kind of game you were playing.

♡ So, he'll play along for a while since it's now in his control. You might not be a well-aged drop of lust yet, but delaying the inevitable is going to do you both well. Riling you up, getting you to let down your guard, and leaving you hot and bothered will benefit Lucifer greatly. Seeing your walls crumble will be enough to satisfy him for a while, so he won't have to put his hands on you prematurely. You may simmer on the knowledge that he'll take your virginity at some point, be sensitive, and get confused at times over his actions. Maybe even fantasize what it'll be like. Will he be rough? Gentle? Ease you into it or brutal steal your innocence like he did with your freedom? Letting your thoughts and desires run wild, no matter how much you want to deny them, will almost guarantee that once you are ready, you'll be at a point where you'll crawl to him, begging for release. And Lucifer likes that idea very much.

♡ Things he'll do to chip away at your defense include but aren't limited to spooning up against you at night, his cock perfectly pressed against your body but not grinding against you. Just letting you know it's there and ready for you and allowing you to get used to it but never letting you scoot away. The same is true with his hand placement at night, his palm at your lower abdomen, just resting there, and his fingertips slipping beneath your clothes to leave feathery trails of allurement. So close yet far enough away, teasing, playful, promising. The warmth it emits seeping into your body, heating you up, only for him to retract and leaving you hanging. Sometimes, his fingers will play with your clothes, letting you know just how agile they are. Your mind will do the rest as you can imagine the chaos and pleasure they can leave in their wake. He wears human pheromones suited to your taste, and he'll flirt with you, complimenting you even when you feel vulnerable, letting you know how receptive he is to taking the next step. It's only a matter of time until you cave, but Lucifer will do everything to make it the hardest few days of your life.

Mammon

♡ Mammon is indeed a little dense. He might feel a bit off-put if you reject his advances repeatedly, but he doesn't see anything wrong with it the first few times. There is absolutely no subtlety in his advances, his kisses bordering on orgasm-territory already when he's in the mood, his hands greedy as is fitting for his title. You might be forced into these affections, but even you can't help but squirm beneath him. It only gives him more incentive to take it up a notch when he's just so passionate, your lips constantly bruised, and your neck marked by his teeth.

♡ So it becomes very frustrating and confusing for him when you kick and scream the moment he gets a bit more intimate. He'd like to respect your choice despite him not giving you one when it comes to whether or not you'll be with him for the rest of your life. Mammon likes to think he's gracious like that. But he thought you two were on the right path to taking the next step, yet you keep rejecting him. To be fair, he's been very clear that he wants you for a long time: Grinding against you, fondling your body even though he should be concentrating on other things. You've caught him jerking off next to you, moaning your name quite a few times even though you pretended to be asleep. And if that isn't clear enough, he's been nagging and sometimes even begging on his knees for you to give him some of that sweet body of yours to fuck. You've rejected him all the same, so for Mammon, it hints at something being seriously wrong, but he can't quite figure it out himself.

♡ It takes some... advice from more experienced individuals for him to come to a conclusion. Levi thinks perhaps he smells bad, Satan questions why anyone would want to be with Mammon in the first place, and Beel asks if maybe you're too hungry for any of that stuff and if Mammon fed you properly. But hey, at least Asmo is useful, hinting at the possibility of you feeling... insecure. Maybe you're too "inexperienced" (Mammon vehemently denies the possibility of you being a virgin, cause duh, look at you! Stunning, gorgeous, and he will totally kill anyone who touched you before him, but clearly, with how seductive and sexy you are, he can't possibily your first). So Mammon deducts Asmo is right; you're just nervous because you'll be with a great guy like Mammon!

♡ Worry not; he decides to show you the ropes! ... Literally. You might stutter and reject his ideas of getting close and personal, but Asmodeus had a handy bag of goodies for Mammon before he left. Even though Mammon is at his limit, he tries to keep it together for you, tying you up and making you watch him jerk off, reciting all the things he wants to do to you, how he'll do it, and showing you how insane you are driving him. There won't be any more nights to hide away after that, as Mammon will demonstrate to you exactly how worthy you are to lay with him. But at least he'll ease you into it, that's something, right? You'll get the full 7 hells of orgasms from his mouth to fingers to toys. Forcing you to rely on him as he takes away your senses, like sight, and the freedom to move as you please. By the time he finally gets to wet his cock on you, you'll be already too well-fucked to care, and if that isn't devotion, what is?

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farfromstrange · 4 months

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Mismatched Bridesmaid | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

PART 2 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: Deciding to go to your old college roommate's wedding turns into a bad idea when you suddenly have to function as a bridesmaid until you're paired with a very handsome groomsman.

Warnings: Fluff, attempt at humor, SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), oral f!receiving, use of "good girl", One-Night Stand, shameless flirting, kind of "horny at first sight", so cheesy it might make you hate cheese

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: I was wondering why this didn't post until I saw that I hit "save draft" instead of schedule, so this may come on time for some and too late for others, but I'm still awake, so it counts as the 15th. Also, when I wrote this it was after hinting at it on here, and I was excited at first, but I'm not too happy with it now because it's just silly and falls a little flat, in my opinion. This is why I went back in and edited a hell of a lot, adding some things, etc. Nevertheless, I promised to clear out the vault for this event, so this is it. I got inspired by seeing the She-Hulk clips when the episode with Matty came out. It may or may not be noticeable. We're also working with the Nelson, Murdock & Page narrative. Enjoy!

You are not made for white-veil occasions.

While weddings, in their essence, symbolize unity while covering different facets of romantic beauty, they are also inherently stressful for nearly everyone involved in the proceedings. Over the years of adulthood, you’ve found that weddings tend to end in disaster when you attend—and you are not particularly fond of engaging in drama.

When your old college roommate sent you an invitation to her wedding in June, you considered responding with no. You’ve been close for a few years, but then you graduated, found separate careers, and then never talked again. You weren’t sure why she would send you an invitation until you called the number on the back of the card and you began catching up. She told you that she wanted to invite you because you were a vital part of her early twenties, and it reminded you that you are both adults and you have both grown beyond what you thought possible, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell her that you couldn’t make it to her wedding. Instead, you told her that you wouldn’t miss it for the world. That answer though seemed to have turned destiny against you.

You were excited when you arrived at the chapel this morning, but as soon as your foot touched the holy ground, everything went wrong. Maybe it is because you’re an atheist and God hates you, or maybe Karma just really fucking loves toying with you. Either way, when your friend’s maid of honor—also one of the few people you hung out with during your wild college days—came up to you, looking pale and panicked, you knew that the curse you always bring to weddings was only continuing to wreak havoc.

She said to you, “One of the girls got into a car accident on her way here. Don’t worry, she’s not dead, just a broken wrist, but that means we are one bridesmaid short. I need someone to step in before Janet finds out and cuts off my head for ruining her wedding day,” and she was deadly serious about it, too.

You knew that it was a mistake to come to this wedding, especially without a date or a plus-one to fall back on.

You were so focused on marveling at the beautiful white and golden decorations living the aisle, fantasizing about the day you might be walking down one of those that you didn’t think anything could go wrong since everything had been going so right. You should have known better than to trust that treacherous feeling of excitement that you made sure to nurture before breakfast so you could enjoy the ceremony and the party afterward without making it dependent on the open bar—although that fact did help.

Instead of dreaming about free drinks though, you’re being squeezed into a satin green dress with a low cut in the front, and someone you don’t know is slathering burgundy lipstick onto your lips. They are purposely trying to turn you into a copy of all the other bridesmaids, and you hate it. You hate it so much you get the sudden urge to scratch your eyes out and tear the skin off your lips.

Janet, the maid of honor, comes back up to you. She’s aged at least ten years since you last saw her when she pulled you away from the aisle. You feel for her. The entire weight of this wedding rests on her shoulders.

She eyes you, checking your outfit, before giving you a curt nod. “Thank God, you’re hot,” she mutters. You’re not sure if you were supposed to hear it.

“Thank you?” you answer awkwardly.

“Alright.” She fixes the corners of your lipstick. “We need to pair you with a different guy than Miss I-Don’t-Know-How-To-Drive was supposed to walk down the aisle with. Your looks don’t match. You’ll get Kathy’s partner,” she says. “And we need to line up, like, now because shit is happening in five minutes, not a second later. We can’t give Bridezilla the time to kill us all.”

With a frown, you ask, “Is she aware at all of what’s happening?”

Janet shakes her head. “No, and it’s better this way. Trust me.”

You stop questioning her. She knows what she’s doing.

When she guides you outside to line up, you’re not sure what to expect. You don’t know the groom, and you don’t know his friends. You’re here on your own, and now you’re part of a bridal party that you are also barely familiar with, wearing a dress that you were forced into for the sake of aesthetics. You hate when something is reduced to aesthetics because beauty has many facets, and you would have walked down that aisle with anyone as long as you could get it over with.

Until you see him. Strikingly dark hair in a perfectly cut tuxedo that underlines the muscles hiding underneath the fabric. His eyes are hidden behind round, red glasses that reflect the sunlight coming in through the already stained glass of the chapel’s windows. In his hands, he’s holding a white cane, leaning his entire weight on it as he waits. And he waits for none other than you.

Janet paired you with the most beautiful man on this planet, you can’t deny that. The way he stands there, his sharp jawline on full display—he looks ethereal. Just looking at him makes you sweat, and you’re starting to panic. What if she made a mistake? You can’t do this. You can’t—

“Matt,” she says and shoves you beside him into the line of bridesmaids and groomsmen.

Janet introduces you, and then she’s gone. She pushes you into the cold water, forcing you to learn how to swim.

He tilts his head in your direction. “Hi,” he says. The sound of his voice resembles the purr of a black cat as it reverberates, but his grin reminds you of the Devil himself.

Fuck. Me.

You either did something very wrong to land here, or you did everything right.

“Hi,” you stammer. One look at him, and the blood rushes to your cheeks. Your face is burning.

He offers you his hand. “I’m Matt,” he says as if Janet didn’t already expose that to you.

Still, you take his hand. It’s the polite thing to do. “And I’m not supposed to be here.” Mentally, you curse yourself for being so stupid.

Matt chuckles. Even his laugh sounds bittersweet. Like dark chocolate. “I, uh, gathered as much.”

“I’m sorry,” you bite your lip, “I’m not—this is really weird. I don’t even know what to say.” You pray for the ground to open up and swallow you whole, maybe that will make it less embarrassing.

His features soften. There is no judgment. You can’t see his eyes, but there is a certain softness about him that throws you off guard, but you no longer feel like you’re drowning. “If it helps, I’m only here because I helped the groom graduate law school by writing his essays, and he feels like he owes me, so…I also don’t want to be here,” he says, and he reaches up to adjust his glasses. You get a small glimpse of his eyes. They’re hazel. Beautiful. He has an aura that draws you in; it’s not just his physical beauty that strikes you.

This man—this magnetic force of a man called Matt—is a stranger. He’s a man you were paired with to walk down the aisle even though you were never meant to be a bridesmaid in this wedding in the first place. So many things are happening to and around you at once, and you can feel the flames starting to burn and sizzle away at your skin.

You should pull yourself together. You shouldn’t stare at him. You shouldn’t listen to your heart which is hammering against your ribcage. But the emotions are already running high and you can’t possibly focus on anything else. He’s like a lifeline to you.

And God, you want him to put those calloused hands on your skin and take you to bed. But that’s not something to think about in a place of God. On the day of someone else’s wedding. Except that you can’t think of anyone else, and his proximity isn’t making the situation any better for you.

Another blush threatens to take over your features. “Oh, you’re a lawyer?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “I have a firm. Nelson, Murdock & Page.”

“Here in New York?”

“Hell’s Kitchen, yeah. Me and my associates just reopened our doors to the public after a rough year.”

“Oh, that’s...cool. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you. And what do you do, if I may ask?”

His interest takes you off guard, but you don’t hesitate to answer his question. You tell him your profession, and how you met the bride, and he listens without another word. No man has ever paid you this much attention before.

Though Janet meant it when she said that you will have to start walking in exactly five minutes, not a second longer. She passed by everyone, handing out bouquets. Green with hints of red and gold. It fits the theme. They’re beautiful, but the flowers within the bouquet become a problem when she hands you your own set.

“Janet,” you stop her from leaving. “I can’t take these.”

“The fuck you can’t,” she retorts.

“Seriously, I can’t. I’m allergic to Jasmines. I’ll sneeze.”

She glares at you. “Then fucking hold it.”

There is no arguing with her, and she passes by you to continue putting everyone in their places. You stare down at the bouquet, your nose already starting to itch. The smell alone is enough to make you nauseous.

To your surprise, Matt reaches for the flowers. “May I?” he asks, but he has already grabbed a hold of them.

“Sure,” you answer, curious about where he’s going with this.

“Hold this.” He guides the top of his cane into your hand.

His fingers feel along the red ribbon. He takes a whiff. There are so many scents that would be overwhelming even to someone without heightened senses due to a lacking fifth one, so you’re even more surprised when he finds the Jasmines without a struggle. He traces the petals just to make sure, and he quickly pulls the flowers out of the bouquet, tightening the ribbon around the now smaller girth in the process.

Tossing them behind one of the pillars in the corridor, he hands them back to you. “Here,” he murmurs. “For you.”

Words elude you.

“Are you allergic to anything else?” The question is valid, considering you’re still not making a move to take the bouquet from him.

You exhale a shaky breath, reaching for the flowers, and answer without missing another beat, “Weddings.”

That elicits a giggle from him. The sound is enough to make your heart melt. Does he know what he’s doing to you?

Matt opens his mouth to respond, but the sound of heels clicking against the marble floors stops you both dead in your tracks.

Your entire body recoils when the bride’s voice rings out, echoing, “Who the fuck mismatched my bridesmaids?”

A hand rests on your bicep, and you don’t even have to look down to know that it is Matt’s. He’s the only one standing to your right, anyway. He squeezes as though to let you know that you won’t lose your head, but you’re not so sure now that your college roommate is glaring at you in a white dress that reminds you of a pastry, and her eyes are full of fury. He can’t see it, but he would cower in fear if he did.

Thankfully, Janet pulls her aside, explaining the situation to her.

“She what?!” she screeches. “On my wedding day? Are you kidding me?”

“Yes, because car accidents respect timing when it comes to special occasions,” Janet counters.

You snort. Matt beside you digs his teeth into his bottom lip, but even he can’t hide his amusement.

“Oh, snap,” you mutter under your breath.

“Shots have been fired,” he says.

“I think we’re witnessing a double homicide.”

“I’m not a very credible witness. I can only describe how it sounded, unfortunately.”

Your snort turns into a laugh. The bride’s head snaps around, and you go quiet. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” you choke out.

“If she decides to throw a punch at your pretty face,” Matt’s breath tickles your ear, “I can be your attorney and sue her ass.”

This time, you’re conscious enough to slap a hand in front of your mouth to stifle your reaction. “How do you know I’m pretty?” you whisper back between little giggles.

He shrugs with a smirk of his own. “I just know.”

He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, and you have no choice but to submit.

Janet manages to bring some calm back to her friend eventually, and then it’s showtime. Right on the second, it’s time for you to walk down the aisle, and you have never been happier about a strict schedule and someone adamant about keeping that schedule for the sake of all of your lives.

Your roommate has always been a very dominant personality, so you’re aware of the things she can do when she doesn’t get what she wants.

An 80s pop ballad begins to play. You make sure to match your pace to everyone else but also make sure that you’re not running away from your partner.

You may have been a mismatched bridesmaid, but you can’t complain about the company.

Against all odds, the service is beyond beautiful. It’s not often you get to stand so close when two people who seem to truly love each other make a vow to be there for each other for the rest of their lives. You can’t help but shed a tear. They complement each other perfectly. Is that ever in the cards for you? Will you ever be able to have what they have? Or will you always feel like you’re not worthy of this kind of unconditional love and endless devotion—of someone wanting to spend the rest of their life with you?

You look over at Matt. The hint of a cross necklace is starting to peek out underneath his dress shirt. Of course, he’s Catholic.

He carries himself with such a grace that puts everyone else in this room to shame. Does he know that you’re staring at him? You hope not.

After the ceremony, you lose sight of Matt in the masses. He doesn’t owe you a goodbye, but you still feel a little disappointed when you return to the dressing room and finally peel the satin dress off of your very sweaty skin.

At the party afterward, he’s still nowhere to be found. You give up. Not that you want to spend the evening with him anyway, but you kind of do. You drown your sorrows in a glass of vodka cranberry and a bowl of olives. They taste like rotten meat, but there are too many people by the buffet for your liking. The last thing you want to do is mingle and get asked stupid questions by people you don’t even know. So, you stay back, and you watch from afar as everyone is having the time of their lives not so far away from you, but far enough for you to breathe.

“And here I thought weddings were supposed to be a joyous occasion,” Matt pipes up beside you, and you twirl around in your chair to face him with wide eyes.

You didn’t expect to see him back here. “Hi!” you exclaim. “What’re you—I thought you left.”

“Nah,” he says. “I just had to take care of some things.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

He smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yes, that’s why I asked.”

Folding his cane, Matt lowers himself down on one of the chairs beside you and orders himself a beer with the bartender. “Let’s just say that I have an important court case coming up and I had to make a call.”

You take another sip from your drink. “That sounds a lot more exciting than my life, to be honest.”

“You are sulking at a wedding. Thinking about an ex?”

“More like life in general.”

“Ah, yes, the eternal fear of dying alone.” He raises his bottle to yours. “I’ll drink to that.”

A laugh escapes you. “That was cynical,” you say.

“And you’re not?”

He beats you at your own damn game, and he finally gets that smile he has been vying for.

“Are you smiling?” his voice is barely above a whisper.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “Maybe.” But the smile is audible in your voice, giving you away.

Matt smirks, nodding his head. “Good girl.”

The sharp vodka runs down the wrong pipe. You cough. Did he just—

He did.

He pats your back, and his hand lingers a lot longer than it should. He looks so smug. Pleased with himself. That part of him is stupidly attractive to you, even though you would usually hate such cockiness in any other man. But Matt isn’t like any other man.

You apologize for your reaction, but he should be the one apologizing to you for throwing you off your game. What is he doing? You can’t read him. You wish you could because that would make this so much easier, but that’s probably the point. He wants to tease you. He wants to mess with your head. He’s a dick. A fucking attractive dick that could tell you to do just about anything and you in your flustered state would go along with it without hesitations. That’s the kind of control he has over you, and you just met. It feels like a twisted form of destiny, but you can’t quite believe it. Yet.

“Do you always do that?” you dare to ask.

He frowns. “Do what?”

“Flirt with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests?”

A playful smirk plays on his lips.

“It’s been known to happen,” says Matt.

You poke your tongue against the soft tissue of your cheek. “Cheeky,” you murmur.

“That’s also been known to happen.”

“What, being cheeky with—”

“—with women who were forced to be bridesmaids even though they were only supposed to be guests? Yes.” He’s catching on quickly.

You laugh and nod. “Yeah, that.”

“I do have to say though,” he adds, and for a second you think he might ruin the joke instead of playing it out further, but Matt is full of surprises, “Out of all the mismatched bridesmaids I’ve met in my thirty-something years of, um, living, you’re my favorite so far.”

With your hand, you start fanning your face rather dramatically. “I feel honored,” you say.

Again, he chuckles. “You should be.”

“Why, because you’re so irresistible?”

“I was going to say that I don’t like a lot of people because, you know, they’re dicks, but that works too.”

“Wow.” You take another sip. The liquor burns its way down your sore esophagus. “You have balls, man.”

“Is that a problem?” he counters with a question.

The answer comes naturally. “No,” you say. “I like it.”

“Good.” Hearing you clink the ice cubes against your empty glass by swirling it around, Matt concludes that you need a refill. “Can I get you another drink?” he asks.

The question sounds so innocent, but the look on his face renders you speechless. His hand inches dangerously close to yours on the counter, his knee brushing yours, and the heat shoots straight to your neglected cunt.

Fuck this.

“You could do that, or we could skip that part and just…you know.”

One brush of your hand against his thigh, that’s all it takes for him to know.

Pushing you through the door to his apartment a few minutes later, his lips are on you. The door falls shut with a loud bang, and he presses you against the wall of his hallway.

His lips feel like a silky cloud of lewdness. The way he kisses you is utterly erotic. Your lips part in a delicious moan that he swallows with a grunt of his own. He swallows it all, shoving his tongue into the tight confines of your mouth, and exploring every inch he can reach. He tastes you. He consumes you.

His hands desperately search for an ounce of bare skin. He’s tugging at your clothes, sliding and tearing them aside. Once his fingers finally brush over the bare skin of your stomach, he melts.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Your leg hooks around his waist. You can’t wait. He has ignited a fire within you that no one has been able to light before. He’s touching you with a precision that puts your former lovers to shame. He’s paying attention to your every breath and heartbeat, and with every touch, he asks, “May I?”

You don’t even make it to the bedroom. Once he has successfully removed the bottom half of your clothes, he falls to his knees. He is a sight to behold. The disarray of colors that shines into his apartment illuminates his face, bathing it in a selection of hues that bring out his best features.

Matt has yet to take off his glasses, and you take the opportunity to tear them away from his face. You’re gentle though. You ask him, “May I?” mirror the question he has been asking you throughout the night, and after a thick swallow, he nods.

You caress his cheek as you remove his glasses, and when you finally see his hazel eyes in all of their glory, you have to bow down to capture his lips in a soft kiss.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper. “So fucking beautiful, Matt.”

He whimpers. You could have sworn to have imagined it, but when you stroke his cheek with such a gentleness it almost makes him recoil in anguish, you know that you didn’t imagine the sound from his lips. You kiss it away. You kiss all of his insecurities away. You want him to feel as good as he is making you feel. You don’t know him, but you want to get to know him, and if he’s ready to surrender himself to you, you are more than ready to do the same for him. He can feel that with every brush of your fingertips and every kiss you deliver to his plump lips that taste like heaven and hell in itself.

Your words don’t leave him cold. His cock is aching in his pants—you take note of his impressionable size, which only makes you more excited for what’s to come—but he refuses to take it out. Not until you’re fully satisfied. To be honest, you could come just from staring at him on his knees in front of you, looking like he would lay the world to your feet and kill everyone who has ever dared to hurt you, but that is not enough for him.

He needs the experience. Feeling your skin, tasting you, and breathing in all facets of your natural scent mixed with the artificial one from your shampoo. He can’t get enough of it. Of you. Of everything about and within you. He’s as attracted to your body as he is consumed by your soul. You’ve got him in a deadlock, but he would never complain about that.

You gasp when Matt grabs your thigh and throws it over his shoulder. Your panties are gone within seconds, torn on the floor somewhere. You’re completely bare to him.

You want to warn him that you didn’t shave, but he doesn’t care.

Before you know it, he has flattened his tongue against your pussy, and he licks a long stripe from your hole to your clit.

“Fuck!” you cry out, reaching for support on the wall behind you.

He flicks the sensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, testing the waters before he sucks it into his mouth.

His grip on your thigh becomes bruising. Matt eats you out like he has been starving for years and you are his first and last meal. He sucks on your clit, and he fucks you with his tongue. Your pussy is the altar he worships at. Your arousal is his holy water. He dives deeper and deeper into the wetness between your thighs, and he moans loudly when you pull at his hair.

“Fuck, Matt–” You’re clawing at whatever you can find. It feels so good. You’re higher than you have ever been.

The sound of his mouth working your slick folds toward eternal bliss is obscene and utterly sinful. His stubble scratches against your inner thighs. The pain grounds you in the here and now, making you focus on the tidal wave that is about to crash into you and tear you to shreds.

You can’t even warn him before your orgasm takes over, and it takes you into another dimension. You come with a shout of his name. It’s nothing short of explosive. The orgasm drags on through his mouth on your clit, relentlessly sucking until the nerves jump, and you’re begging him to stop.

His face glistens. With every kiss up your body, Matt marks you. By the time he has reached your quivering lips, he still tastes like you.

“You did so well,” he whispers. “Such a good girl for me.”

You exhale. Without his shoulders to hold onto, you would probably lose your footing. “You’re crazy,” is all you can say.

He smirks. “In a good way, I hope.”

“Yes. Fuck.”

“Regret coming home with me?”

“Absolutely not.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He lifts you with ease. “Then I’m going to make it worth your while.”

And when your back hits the soft mattress and silk sheets of his bed, you don’t doubt that he is going to make good on his promise.

Matt Murdock Smut Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader #daredevil #matt murdock x you #matt murdock smut #matt murdock fluff #daredevil x reader #reader insert #lizzi’s vault #charlie cox

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nebbyy · 2 months

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Lester Papadopoulos/Apollo x reader - It's Over, isn't It?

A/N: okay so a few weeks ago I was listening to the song “It’s Over isn’t it” form the Steven Universe series and this scenario came to my mind, so I thought I’d just make it a fic! For this piece I didn’t see a point in assigning a gender to the reader, so we go with gender neutral all the way😎😎(neither your godly parent is specified since it doesn’t really add anything to the plot, so you can choose whichever you prefer)

PART TWO IS HERE

Warning: insecurity, jealousy, angst (WITH comfort tho), mentions of suggestive activities

Word count: 3209

You kinda hate yourself right now, and you hate yourself because you are so angry right now.

Well maybe angry is an exaggeration, but still, you’re really, really upset.

And you know you should be anything but upset right now. I mean, the love of your life finally has the chance to go back to his home in the Olympus, regain his honor and his status as a god. Those were all good things that you should be ecstatic about, right?

Well, wrong.

Just thinking of it made you feel like you could throw up at any moment. Thinking about the fact that Apollo. Because, what will be of Lester, your Lester?

Your whole relationship had started because he wasn’t Apollo. He wasn’t the tall, tan, handsome and all mighty God of the Sun; he was just a normal teen, whose only things that made him stick out were his acne, his clumsiness and a somewhat nice voice. His mortal condition didn’t even give him a single chance to act in his usual exaggerated, narcissistic self. He had to start off from the start, build a personality that wasn’t based on his godly qualities, but on something more real.

And in that situation he found himself in, with his new eyes he had seen you, and you truly seemed like a deity to him.

How could you be anything less to the rest of the world, he thought. You were your godly parent’s greatest hero, you were liked and admired by most campers both because of your victories and your looks. And he spent oh so many nights fantasizing about taking you back with him in Olympus, giving you the godly status that should be rightfully yours. But hell, with the body he’d found himself in he’d barely the courage to come up to you to talk.

He told you so many times how absolutely surprised he was when he found out that you actually liked him back, even if he looked like any 17 year old loser, his actual words. And you remembered too, how his voice was so shaky as he tried to muster up a coherent sentence, how his cheeks shone a bright red, how his hands were trembling as you took them into yours and his palms sweating. But in your mind, that was more beautiful than any sonnet, any haiku, any poem, any grandiose, Apollo-like gesture. Because that was Lester, not Apollo; and in your eyes, Lester’s awkwardness was what made him stand out, because it was purely genuine.

Now ever so often you wonder, if he used to feel like you’re feeling right now, like you’re no match to the person you love. You look at your reflection in the mirror of the bathroom, and the mean joke that played your mind made you highlight all the flaws you could spot in yourself. All things that a god could never accept in their lover. You feel so wrong, so flawed that you just wish you could turn yourself into mud and reform your appearance completely.

Gods, you’re being ridiculous right now, you think, you just want to slap yourself in the face and yell at your reflection to get a grip goddamnit! You’re one of the greatest heroes of your time, you survived two wars, you can’t possibly draw the line at a failed relationship with a god.

At one point someone might think: but why are you so opposed to the idea that your boyfriend is finally becoming a god once again? How ungrateful can you be??

But the point is, you know damn well that the whole point of the creation of Lester was forcing Apollo into a form that would’ve been the total opposite of who he is.

Because Apollo is naturally flirty and superficial, he loves to love and be loved, and he pursues anything and everything that he finds beautiful. But he got bored easily of his love conquers, hence why he has so many kids. So in your mind, it was only natural that as soon as he was back to normality, he’d grow tired of you and move to the next mortal that piqued his interest, maybe even leaving you a single parent to a new demigod.

That’s why you couldn’t stop that nagging feeling deep into your core, as you walked out of your cabin, hearing all the girls already speculating about how beautiful, handsome, shiny and dashing Apollo will be once he goes back to his form. “And who knows, maybe he’ll set his eyes on some of the friends he made in here” squealed a girl, from which cabin you did not know nor care. Her friend replied: “Yeah I mean, ain’t no way he’s gonna keep staying with the same partner forever. I mean, come on, he’s Apollo!” They both giggled like school girls, then kept gossiping about something else, but you did not care enough to keep eavesdropping their whole conversation.

You really hated yourself for being like this right now.

Of course, you know that those two girls meant no harm, it wasn’t their fault if they knew just as much as you did about Apollo’s tendencies. And about that you’re already came to terms with, but there’s something else you hate yourself for…

You stopped reaching out to him. Or even worse, you even started to avoid him.

Not also him, but your friends and siblings as well. You closed yourself off of everyone else in your life, opting to spend your free days in Camp by yourself, whether it is in your cabin, sparring or all alone in your favorite spot in the forest.

Which is exactly where you’re directed to right now, as you put your headphones in your ears, wasting no time to press play and then abuse the volume up button to muffle any sound from the outside. You walk past the two girls, past another group of guys that were training with one another, and past your friends too, who you didn’t noticed as they were calling and waving at you to join them for a quick snack, leaving them rather confused and preoccupied as it seemed that you were stuck in a trance, locked out in another dimension of your own.

You didn’t even see Lester excusing himself from the group to subtly start following you wherever you were going.

It’s a quiet place, the one in the forest, protected by a thick layer of trees and bushes that makes it hard to reach it; but it’s worth all the climbing and scratches for the beautiful sight of a clear waterfall that fell right into a circular body of water, surrounded by a rather big field of moss, so soft and fresh to lay on during the hot summer nights.

And so you did, letting yourself fall on that natural mattress, then closing your eyes to feel the light breeze on your exposed skin, and let the words of the song that’s blasting at full volume at the moment fill your ears, although you can barely focus on what they’re saying

It really seems unfair, all of this. That you thought you had fallen in love not with a god, but with a boy. Somehow forgetting that boy and god mixed in Lester, two sides of the same coin.

And maybe he forgot too, because every time the two of you were together, he suddenly couldn’t bring himself to think of the responsibilities that were waiting for him. With you, he forgot about his lost and very much missed abs and tan, he forgot about his chariot and his comfortable place in Olympus. Hell, you even made him forget about all his old lovers. It was really only you in his eyes, just as he was in yours. If only he’d ever told you all of this though…

Your mind keeps swirling in a million thoughts, until it fixates on one memory in particular.

You and him, alone on that very same spot in the forest. In a similar situation as you were now, too, with your crappy phone playing music softly in the background, as the the two of you laid together, one next to the other. You turn around to look at him briefly, only to find him already looking at you. “What, do I have something on my face or..” he just shake his head with the most lovestruck eyes you’d ever seen, batting his eyes slowly before looking at you once again, “I just really want to kiss you right now”.

Your eyes widen. His eyes widen. Did he really just say THAT?

Neither of you were sure how or why, thinking back to it, you wonder if it was his godly charm poking at the back of his head. But that didn’t matter at the time, the future in which he came back to his godly state seemed so far from you, it wasn’t even an option in your head.

Nevertheless, after the initial shock from his words, you silently answered him with a slow, almost numbed movement of the head, nodding slightly, almost scared that if you moved to fast you would’ve whisked him away, or that he could’ve changed his mind already.

But that nod was all that he needed before crashing his lips against yours, one of his hands flying to grab the side of your head, while the other stayed put on its place against the ground to keep him from falling on top of you.

The kiss was an absolute mess: teeth clashing, nose bumping against each other,... but it was perfect that way to you. You broke away from each other for a brief moment to catch your breaths, and you just look into each other’s eyes. With chests heaving, breaths mixing, you both started laughing, if only for a moment, a laugh of disbelief at what had just happened.

But that laugh didn’t last long before he moved his head closer once again, this time more slowly, more confidently. The kiss was in fact much less messy, your lips found their place against each other, the panic from before had morphed into pure butterflies in your stomach and fireworks in your eyes.

After a minute at most, you broke apart once again, but only for Lester to reposition himself on top of you in a more comfortable position. Your bodies closer than ever, you could feel everything of him….

What happened after still makes your cheeks flush red at the mere thought, but it also causes a frown to form on your face. Those times, when it was just the two of you are over. Maybe it was just a time of crisis that brought you two together, the shock from a morta perspective might have caused him to cling onto the closes person he could find. You can’t help but imagine Leste- Apollo in that moment, laying in the clouds of Olympus in a much similar scenario, maybe with a beautiful nymph or a smaller deity, or a mortal he laid his eyes on while he was on this earth-

“There you are! I should’ve known that if you’re not around you’re definitely in here.” If it were a normal, mortal voice, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it over the deafening high volume of the music blasting in you ears. But it wasn’t a mortal voice.

It was loud, it was melodic, it resonated in the air like the echo of the most beautiful of songs,…

You wouldn’t even need to turn around to know that that voice came from no other than Apollo. That’s right, he probably came back to his true form already. You can’t even imagine what a scene that would’ve been, to see the handsomely perfect god walking around Camp Half Blood, how many boys and girls had probably followed him around drooling over the sight of him.

You wish you could just stay put, coldly dismiss him and let him go for what probably is the rest of your life and his eternity. But, curiosity gets the best of you, and you can’t help but turn around tentatively, eager to see what your boyfriend really looks like.

Your mouth quite literally hits the floor at the sight. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve always found Lester really attractive, but this.

This was something beyond the concept of handsome or beautiful.

This, him, was beyond what humans can perceive and comprehend.

Yes, you knew that his skin was tanned, but as he stood in front of you it seemed as if his body was made of bronze.

And yes, you also knew that his hair was blonde, but that didn’t make them justice. They flew, like rays of sun through a clouded sky.

Of his eyes you knew nothing about, but you were pretty sure at this point that no description could really depict just how deep, bright, captivating, alluring, even, they really were.

Your mouth quite literally hit the floor at the sight. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve always found Lester really attractive, but this.

This was something beyond the concept of handsome or beautiful.

This, him, was beyond what humans can perceive and comprehend.

Yes, you knew that his skin was tanned, but as he stood in front of you it seemed as if his body was made of bronze.

And yes, you also knew that his hair was blonde, but that didn’t make them justice. They flew, like rays of sun through a clouded sky.

Of his eyes you knew nothing about, but you were pretty sure at this point that no description could really depict just how deep, bright, captivating, alluring, even, they really were.

Your throat felt tight, your mouth dry, and your whole body gives you this tingly sensation. With all of your strength, you took a deep breath to try and calm yourself down, before mustering all of your strength to speak without a pathetic shaky voice. “I thought you were going back as soon as you got your body back.“

“Ain’t no way that I wasn’t coming to kiss my beautiful partner goodbye.” He grinned as he swiftly took a seat right by your side, propping himself on his elbow, his eyes never once leaving yours. You swore his smile was intoxicating, you’d say contagious even if the thought that this might’ve been your last moments together didn’t fill your mind with sorrow.

You wanted to protect yourself from this, detach your mind and heart from him before he does it first, leaving you with an aching heart and moving on with his eternal life.

You felt a hand come up to your cheek, holding it softly as the sweetest melody came from his lips, “I’m gonna miss you madly once I’m back there, you know?” At that, you can’t help the deep anger that fills you from inside, a feeling that expresses through icy, stinging words, as you turned your head away from his touch, “I’m sure you’ll move on in no time.”

He frowned. That wasn’t the reaction he expected from you at all, but he didn’t really take it personally, it was so obvious that there was something troubling you. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” your voice is louder, a mixture of frustration and anger. But also so much sadness, that can be felt by just how strained the sound that came from your throat is, almost as if you were fighting back tears. You swallow hard, trying to recollect yourself, “I mean that you are a God, I am just a mortal. One of many. I’ve got nothing special to be remembered for, to be remembered by you for the rest of eternity. And Im okay with it, really. Our destinies were never meant to combine, I was just another one of your lovers.” As you spoke those last words you couldn’t help but let the tears flow from your eyes, those who always looked at Lester with a mix of love and mischief, now only filled with a never ending sadness.

Slowly, as to avoid scaring you off, the renewed god took your wet face in his warm hands, pulling you closer and wiping your tears off at the same time. Gently, he spoke: “My love, you couldn’t have said anything more wrong. You are special to me, and I could never forget you. In thousands of years that I’ve existed, no one had ever treated like you did, like I wasn’t a god. Sure, it was temporary and you knew I could’ve incinerated you as soon as I got back to… this.” He looked down, gesturing at his body, a sight for sore eyes that could’ve really made you unfocus on anything were you not so taken by your talk with Apollo at the moment. “But that didn’t stop you from treating me like we were equal. And I hated it, at first. I thought it would be part of my punishment. But as time passed, I realized that being your equal was the highest of honors I could ever get. You’re… you’re crazy strong, incredibly smart, unbelievably beautiful, way too kind for your own good, especially with those brats of the kids in this Camp.”

You giggled at his words, a consistent contrast with your tearful eyes and quiet sobs, “Some of those brats are your children too, genius.” “Well then it must run in the family.” You laughed again while shaking your head, but only for a moment before returning your full attention on the boy in front of you. He took the sign to continue.

“What I’m trying to say is, I don’t think I could ever be able to let you go. Over all the lovers I had through the years, which I’m sure you know are many, you’re the only one that saw me and treated me with true love and care. Not with fearful devotion, never fearing what I was capable of. I only ever saw this kind of love in Sally Jackson, and I mocked Poseidon for letting a mortal like many treat him so casually. But now, now I get it, and to be honest I can’t help but think that you’d deserve to be called a deity far more than many others who already are. Maybe even more than me. So I refuse to ever let go of this blessing that fate has given me. And if in order to do so I have to take your soul and put it on the sky above, to rest as a star forever by my side, so be it. But trust me you’re not getting rid of me so easily.”

You crumbled like a sand castle at his words, that he spoke with the very same tone, on the very same spot when you still called him Lester, and you promised to stick by each other’s side for the time you had left, only a few months before this whole encounter. You let your head fall into his broad chest, sobbing softly as you desperately clung to him. Your tears weren’t of sadness anymore, but of relief, for you had just been given the confirmation that your lover was still yours.You spent the rest of the night there, cuddling as close to eachother as possible as you rested in peace.

The morning after, at dawn, when he had to officially go back to his daily duties, he begrudgingly got up from his place in your arms, placing butterfly kisses on your arms and neck, careful not to wake you. He left a little not right next to you, one that read:

“I had to go, didn’t want to wake your pretty face this early in the morning. Meet me here at dusk tomorrow, Forever yours, A.”

It made you smile, seeing that note as soon as you opened your eyes, almost made you forget the lack of your boyfriend next to you,… and the yelling of your friends and siblings calling for your name in the distance.

You wasted no time walking towards those voices, and when they asked you just where the hell have you been all night, you just smiled and brushed it off, but everyone noticed how your usual bright self had mysteriously came back after days of brooding.

Hours later, you were calmly eating dinner with the other campers, laughing and talking and eating seemingly decent food. You were totally clueless as to where exactly Apollo was, but you guessed he was on his chariot, on his way to let the sun set and go to your secluded spot. But little did you know, he was in neither of those places. He was actually walking up to Zeus’ throne, tall and proud as he respectfully bowed to his father. “Apollo, I see it took you no time to get used to your old life once more. I trust you have learned your lesson.”

“Indeed, father. And I came here to thank you for it all. It was… better than I expected.” Zeus lifted a brow suspiciously, eyeing his son as if trying to make out what’s in his mind just by his appearance. “Mmh I hardly believe that you only came here to thank me for your punishment.” “Heh, you’re not wrong, father. I came here to make a request.”

“Depends. What is it that you desire?”

“How do you make a demigod immortal?”

#lester papadopoulos #my fic #angst #fluff #gender neutral reader #apollo #lester papadopoulos x reader #writers on tumblr #trials of apollo #percy jackson #meg mccaffrey #pjo apollo #apollo x reader #apollo x you #the trials of apollo

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 months

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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 12: My Heart Is Beating For You Constantly

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twelve of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 9.1K (I got really carried away)

Warnings: I'm going to label this one 18+ just in case. References to sex, Implied Sex, Heavy Making Out (not really explicit, but also not real un-detailed…), Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soft Soldier Boy, Angst, Fluff.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

A/N: The song they dance to is "You Call It Madness, But I Call It Love" by Russ Columbo.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

**************************************

1984

You take a sip of wine, leaning over your coffee table to pull another photo from the Rosewood box perched on the edge. It's your birthday, your 65th birthday to be exact, of course one look in the mirror revealed that you barely looked over 30. To some women that might be a welcome thought, but given your current situation it wasn't.

It marked the fourth year since you told Ben that you were unhappy on Payback and as a supe, told him that you wanted a normal life, and four years after you'd let him talk you into staying. But this was the year. You were going to tell him that you were done, that you were moving on and getting out.

Unfortunately the only person you had to convince about letting go was yourself, because leaving meant giving up Ben. And you weren't sure that was something you could do. You were having a hard time convincing your heart to let go of him or rather the old version of him, that only made it's appearance when it was the two of you. The memories that tied you to Ben were tight and difficult to unravel. You couldn't imagine your life without him, couldn’t see past this moment in your life.

But that's why you had to go. You knew you were in too deep. Fantasizing about a relationship with someone who would never love you the same way you loved them, hoping in something that would never happen. And you needed to let him go, whether it be the new version of him or the boy you used to know, you needed to let Ben go.

The Rosewood box was filled with photos, old doodles, memories, and objects from your past. Usually it was stored under your bed, but tonight you had dragged it out into the living room to reminisce on your birthday. It was a tradition you started a few years ago as a way of remembering the past. Sometimes it was a welcome distraction from the way things were now and tonight you were letting it be a last supper of sorts, to indulge in the memories Ben and you had shared over the years before you told him that you were leaving.

You had no idea where you were going, but the thought excited you a little bit. Finally striking out on your own for the first time, doing something for yourself for once, it felt right.

Leaving Ben was the only thing that felt wrong. You wanted him to come with you, for him to choose you the way that you chose him that night, but you knew he wouldn't. He liked this life too much to let it go, he thrived in the spotlight, embraced everything about being a supe that you hated, and so you would let him go.

You look down at the strip of paper in your hand. It was a collection of photos from a photo booth, yellowed with age, but lined up one by one from the first baseball game Ben ever took you to, one of your favorite memories from your childhood. You were wearing the ridiculous pinstriped hat and Ben looked as handsome as he always did, smiling wide with his dark hair hanging in his face. It was hard to look at it now, hard to look at Ben and you when you were so young, and you didn't know where your lives were going to go.

Your eyes drift to the velvet case pressed into the corner of the wooden box. You had kept the ring that Howard got you, well, technically you had tried to give it back but he refused, begging you to reconsider.

Sometimes you thought about throwing it away. It was ugly, but it was a reminder. Not a reminder of Howard, you could barely remember what he looked like, but it was a reminder of the night Ben asked you to come with him. You could remember the earnest look in his eyes, how he cupped your face, and the promise he made to you. The future he promised had been filled with so much possibility, but you weren’t sure anymore. You think about the years you'd spent together and how leaving felt like the end of an era.

But it was necessary, breaking away from all of this would be good. Yes you would miss Ben, but you needed to move on. You knew that deep down. Because you wanted something more than all of this, and the night Ben asked you to come with him you thought he could give it to you, but after all these years you understood that he couldn’t and that he didn’t want to.

Someone knocks loudly on your door.

“One second.” You take the last sip of wine before standing and crossing the room to open the door. “Hey what are you doing here?”

Ben is standing in the hallway outside your apartment, looking handsome as always. He's wearing a tailored dark suit with a black tie, his hair is combed back from his face, dark stubble graces his rugged jaw and a wide smile pulls up at the ends of his lips that makes it very hard to focus on anything else. “Happy Birthday Sweetheart.”

“I’ve had too many birthdays.” You laugh and wave a hand to brush it off. “What are you doing here, I thought you had an interview about the premiere tomorrow?”

Tomorrow night was the premiere of the third and final installment of Anti-Communist films that Ben was currently staring in. The first two had been utterly ridiculous and you knew that the one tomorrow would be just as pointless. Which you knew for a fact, because one day Ben asked you to meet him on set and you saw a scene he was filming, not to mention one time he tried to get you to run lines with him and you told him you'd rather drop dead than read Countess' lines, who took the co-star role when you refused. Ben’s offer of the co-starring role to you had been his way of appeasing you after you told him you were unhappy. When you refused, Countess had been more than willing to slide into it. Who was still trying her upmost to get into Ben's pants, but he still completely ignored her, which gave you an unmeasurable amount of joy.

“I told them that I couldn’t miss my girl's birthday.” Ben smiles wider. “Plus I’d much rather spend tonight with you than those fucking vultures and I’ve never missed your birthday.”

Instead of the words "my girl" filling you with happiness as they had the first night Ben said it in the dancehall, they only make you frustrated. He had called you that several times over the years you'd been friends and each time it made you more and more angry. You were tired of it. Tired of Ben acting like Ben only when it was the two of you. Tired of Ben acting like he cared and like he wanted to be more than friends only to crush you the next day. Tired that he called you “my girl” and then did nothing that meant more than friends. You loved him more than you’d loved anyone ever, took care of him, did everything you could for him, and each time when he didn’t acknowledge it, you felt like you weren’t enough. It made you feel like a kid again when you tried your upmost to please your mother only to have her be disappointed in you each time.

“That’s sweet.” Anger and frustration burns in the back of your throat, but you push it down with a tight lipped smile.

“And I got us reservations, so go get dressed.”

"What?"

"I got reservations. Come on." Ben makes a gesture with his hand.

“Oh I’m okay, I was just going to-“ You motion back at the bottle of wine, the couch, and the box of photos.

“No. I’m not going to let you sit here on your birthday. Come on. Let’s go.” Ben takes your arm and turns you around gently pushing you towards the small hallway that leads back to your bedroom with his hand on the small of your back.

You brace yourself for the warmth that follows with the brush of his fingers against you, but each time you're unprepared for how it makes you feel when he touches you.

“But I don’t have anything to wear! And if you do have a reservation, how much time do I have?” You argue, trying to come up with an excuse to avoid dinner.

As much as you wanted to go, you didn't want to sit there and pretend to be happy. You were tired of doing that, but then you raise your head to look Ben in the eye.

He's smiling down at you the same way he always has, looking like the boy who climbed in your window after flunking out of boarding school to bring you paint and your resolve wavers. You hated saying no to him.

Damn it.

“By the time you stop making excuses it will be time to go. And as sexy as those pajamas are, you can’t wear them to a restaurant.” Ben teases, tugging on the bottom oversized paint-splattered shirt you were wearing

“Fine.” You grumble, cheeks flushing bright red as you snatch the shirt from his hand. “Give me ten minutes.”

**************************************

"Shut up." Ben laughs from across the table at you. "Your mother loved me!"

His laughter is contagious, making your own release from your lips and ease the tension you are holding in your chest.

The Italian restaurant is small and filled with the soft lit of music from the band in the corner, the rich aromatic smell of food, and has the calming atmosphere of a intimate bar. When Ben parked out front, you were surprised. He usually liked the restaurants on page 6 where other heroes would be found eating and places where he could be photographed for the news, but this place was different, it was almost, special. And the way Ben was acting was unusual.

He'd walked around the car after he parked and took your hand in his, to lead you down the steps to the front door where a hostess had asked for his name. Ben had used his real name rather than Soldier Boy for a reservation and when you walked out of your bedroom wearing the dress you found at the back of your closet that you had for emergencies, you swore you saw his eyes darken as they trailed across your body making your breath catch in your chest. It was odd. Ben had taken you out for your birthday before, but tonight seemed to be filled with a palpable tension and electricity that you couldn’t place.

Then again, you were probably imagining it like always.

The restaurant was perfect, it made you forget about being a supe and the glamorous lifestyle that Ben indulged in and allowed you to pretend that you were normal. However, while you sat there together, you tried not to think about what you were going to have to tell him eventually, that you were leaving. He would ask for an answer why and you’d try to tell him the same thing you told him four years ago while avoiding screaming “because I love you, you fucking idiot” at the top of your lungs.

But it was difficult to find a way to tell him, not when he had a soft smile on his face and every few minutes Ben would find some reason to touch you. So you allowed yourself to indulge in this, to have this last wonderful memory together before you have to tell him. And in doing so, you let yourself forget being a supe, forget everything else but Ben and you in this moment.

"Oh sure, you were her favorite." You snort into your wineglass. "She put a crucifix up over my window to keep you out. Every time you went to a new boarding school, she prayed in the living room with a rosary to God begging him to keep you far from me and she cried whenever you came back. Not to mention when you got me thrown out of boarding school she forbade me from seeing you-"

"But you couldn’t stay away." Ben sing-songs with a grin before taking a sip from his glass. "And your roommate was a fucking snitch."

"She was." You smile down at the table. "I also think she was a little jealous." You lean back in your chair, holding the wineglass in your right hand.

"Oh and why is that?" Ben's smirk widens.

"Don't make me say it-" Your eyes roll.

"Oh I want to hear you admit it." He leans towards you across the table, eyes shining with a mischievous glint that makes it suddenly hard to breathe.

“Not going to happen.” You look around the room to distract yourself with the other couples.

All the tables around you were full of people sharing stories, holding hands, brushing feet under the table and for the first time you weren't jealous of their love. The couple next to you was practically breathing the same air, leaning towards each other with sappy looks in their eyes. You were happy for them, allowed yourself to be filled with compassion at their happiness. You remember what you said to Ben four years ago, about wanting to have someone to come home to, someone who loved you and then remember the night at the dancehall watching the elderly couple dance under the twinkling lights holding each other close and gazing deeply into one another's eyes.

You wanted someone to look at you like that, wanted someone to share you life with. You wanted that so badly, that in this moment you knew that you were making the right decision leaving because you would be closer to getting it, because the man across the table from you might be your best friend and have your heart, but he didn’t want to be more. And as much as it hurt to leave the only man you’d ever loved, you knew it was the right thing.

Ben taps his index finger on your left hand where it rests on the table between you, drawing your eyes back to his. "Did I lose you Doll?"

"Hmm? No sorry. I was-" You smile at him. "Distracted. What were you asking?"

Ben's gaze shifts to the couple sitting to your right, the one you were watching a second ago, who are holding hands on top of the table. The man says something that makes his date laugh and lean towards him to grasp his other hand. The way he smiles at his date makes you smile. Ben's eyes slide back to yours and an odd look flashes through them that you can't identify.

"You know what I was asking." His index finger begins to brush over your knuckles in a smooth circular motion. Warmth trails with his touch, sending goosebumps dancing up your left arm.

Shock buzzes at the back of your mind, you didn't understand why he was doing that, Ben had barely had anything to drink tonight, in fact that was his first and only Whiskey. Not to mention when he showed up at your door he seemed more sober than usual. He didn't smell like reefer. So for him to touch you this much was unusual, especially when he wasn't drunk or high.

“Come on Sweetheart.” He smiles at you in a way that makes your heart ache.

"Fine. Pearl thought you were devilishly handsome and was upset that I danced with you when I had Howard-"

"Don't mention that pussy." Ben’s smirk drops into a frown and he stops moving his finger against the back of your hand.

"I don't understand why you were so jealous of him." You try not to think about how much you wish he would start moving his finger again.

"I was not jealous of that idiot." Ben rolls his eyes.

"Uh-huh. After all these years, you still can't admit it." You tease him taking another sip of wine. It was giving you a pleasant buzz that made you feel just a little bit warm and bold enough to make you brush your thumb against his where his hand sits only a few millimeters from yours.

If he was touching you, you thought that maybe it would be okay for you to touch him, maybe it was okay to pretend that he wanted to hold your hand as much as you wanted to hold his, like the couple next to you were.

"I will if you admit you were jealous of Missy Callahan." Ben's eyes trail down to your thumb before looking back up at you, waiting for your answer.

"I was not-"

Ben raises an eyebrow. “I can hear your heartbeat Doll.”

“Just as I can hear yours Darling.” You smile back at him.

“Y/n.” He chuckles.

You roll your eyes at his ridiculous smile. "Fine, I will admit that was a little jealous of her, but she was awful. She was dumb as a rock and she was the most terrible gossip-"

"I knew it." Ben smirks.

You sit there in silence for a minute gazing at Ben, your eyebrow raised. "I'm waiting."

"Oh I'm not going to admit that I was jealous of Howard. I just wanted to hear you say the thing about Missy." Ben laughs, beginning to run his index finger against the back of your hand again. His eyes on yours, as if he's gauging your reaction.

"Bastard." You roll your eyes at him. "Did I tell you that I saw Howard?"

"What?" Ben looks surprised.

"Yeah, when I went to my brother's-" You clear your throat remembering when you saw Howard four years ago. You don’t know why he went to your brother’s funeral, but he was there, gray hair slicked back staring at you open mouthed. The last time you'd seen him was the day after he proposed, when you tried to give him back the ring and he refused, stating that he wanted you to keep it, to think about it. He never got over the break up, never dating anyone else, never married. It had been an awkward reunion, especially since he kept trying to corner you, but you evaded him expertly through the crowd. You weren't interested in making awkward small-talk about the past forty years.

Ben's hand finally slips into yours, intwining your fingers together because he understands what you’re about to say. "I'm sorry I didn't go with you, I should have."

It was weird that Ben wasn’t with you, but it was also weird because you tried to comfort your sister in law and her son and his family, but it felt forced. Ben was the only person who understood what it was like for everyone to age around you while you stayed the same. Standing there to celebrate the life of your brother while you, yourself couldn't die completely or even age felt awkward. You found yourself longing for Ben when you were away, wishing that he was there to hold your hand or try to deflect some of the awkward conversations, none of which were focused on your brother and were all about you being a supe. You hated how much you depended on him.

After the funeral you had stayed in Philadelphia an extra week to help your family and when Ben called to see how you were you broke down on the phone. Ben had showed up within the next hour at your hotel and sat with you while you cried. It was one of your favorite memories, because Ben held you gently against him, whispering "It's okay Sweetheart, I've got you" while you pressed your face into his shirt, letting the smell of whiskey and his cologne soak into your skin. It was so unlike him and it made you believe that Ben wanted more, but then he never acknowledged it, like always.

"Ben it's okay, you were there when it mattered. And you went to both of my parent's funerals. Surprising because my mother would have hated that you were there. Always said you were going to ruin my life." You meant for it to be a joke, but the look in Ben's eyes shifts to something more vulnerable for a millisecond before it hardens again.

"Did I?" He asks quietly. Ben looks down at where he was holding your hand, his thumb beginning to move over the smooth skin on the back.

The question catches you off guard. It was the very question that you had been considering the past few days before you finally decided to leave all of this and your best friend. But the truth was you didn't believe that Ben ruined your life, you blamed yourself, blamed yourself for loving your best friend, blamed yourself for loving someone who didn’t love you the same way.

And it wasn’t that you hated your life, it was different than what you would have planned for yourself, but you liked parts of it. Not to mention you would have hated it more if you had said no to Ben and married Howard. If anything, Ben had saved you and you were thankful for that.

Of course the way he's looking at you and holding your hand is making it difficult for you to consider leaving. It seemed like every time you tried, Ben would do something like this- take you out to dinner or act like he wanted you and only you, and then you would reconsider. Four years ago it had been him holding you after your brother’s funeral and now it was this.

"Ben." You sigh, squeezing his hand and putting as much love into your gaze as you can. "No. You didn't. If anything you freed me. I didn't want to be with Howard and I was too afraid to say it until you asked me to come with you.”

“He could have given you a life though. You said that’s what you wanted.” For a second you think you see Ben’s eyes flick to the couple on your right with his words.

Your mind stutters to a halt in surprise. He remembered what we talked about four years ago? After he almost killed Noir?

“Um-" You clear your throat to recover. "And if you remember that conversation, you should also remember I said I didn’t want that life with Howard.”

“Yes, but you said you wanted to marry someone.” The ends of his lip twitches, but he doesn’t smile. “Still waiting on that wedding invite.” His thumb is stroking long smooth patterns on the back of your hand, making your throat tight and making it impossible to think.

“I’m sure you’ll get it any day now. Legend is happy that I finally said yes.”

“I should have known. Y’all looked pretty cozy at that party two weeks ago.” Ben laughs. “So if you’re engaged to him, does that mean you don’t want your birthday present?”

“I’ve said it once and I’ve said it again, I’m too old for birthdays.”

“Then why did you come out with me?”

“Oh I’m just going to write this off as old friends having dinner. That or a kidnapping. You practically dragged me to the car.”

“Be thankful I let you change.” Ben replies.

“I don’t know, I think I would have really made a statement with my paint splattered shirt and sweatpants."

You’d chosen the dress you were wearing at random. It was a dark green, the same color as Ben’s supe suit, off your right shoulder cinched around your waist and fell elegantly to your ankles. It was one of your favorites, something you believed accentuated your body effortlessly.

"They were something. Though I think that you-" Ben pauses, dropping his eyes to where he's still holding your hand, before looking back up at you. "Um-"

"What?" You smile.

He clears his throat, a soft smile on his face. "I think you look beautiful now too."

Your next words dry up in your mouth, there's not a shred of joking or teasing in Ben's eyes. Ben had said it before, but with a mischievous glint in his eyes, but now there is only sincerity. And it makes your heart jolt out of rhythm.

He said too. That means that he thought I looked beautiful before when I was-

"Thank you." You flush red and squeeze his hand. "I don't think you look too bad yourself, you know, for a old man." You add that last part because you don’t know what to say when he's looking at you like that.

Ben's smile slips into a frown. "You should be nicer to me, I got you a birthday present."

“See, you keep saying that, but I haven’t seen it.”

“I thought you didn’t want it.” The mischievous glint is back in his eye.

“I could be persuaded.” You smirk.

Ben releases your hand and reaches into his coat pocket to pull out a long navy blue velvet box wrapped in a thick silver bow before sliding it across the white tablecloth.

“You get me another paintbrush?” You smirk running a fingertip over the velvet top to examine it while acutely missing the feeling of his hand grasped in yours.

“Something like that.”

“Did you steal it?” You pick up the box and wave it for emphasis, remembering all the times Ben stole little things from the stores that lined Downtown Philadelphia and the box he had hidden under his bed filled with random trinkets.

You never understood why he did that. Ben's family was almost as wealthy as yours and although his father didn't approve of anything Ben was doing, he never cut him off.

“Maybe.” He shrugs and leans on the table towards you, his eyes filled with excitement.

“With how much money they pay you for those ridiculous films you shouldn’t be stealing anything.”

“I’m sure if you sold your artwork instead of shoving it in the closet you’d be just as wealthy as me.”

“Yes, but my grand plan is to have you pay for everything so I can continue to use you and I can’t do that if I’m rich."

“You can use me anytime sweetheart.” Ben winks.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes at him, but can't stop the blush that stains your cheeks at his insinuation.

Everything about tonight felt just like old times, the way he joked with you and the way you couldn't stop smiling, but at the same time, something else nagged at the back of your mind. The handholding was new, as were the compliments and deeper conversation, especially because Ben wasn't drunk or high, and yet he was being gentler than usual, almost soft. And that was something Ben never was, at least not in public.

You tried not to be frustrated with the turn of events and just enjoy the moment, but deep down you wanted to know.

Was Ben doing this because he cared? Or was he doing this because he sensed I was unhappy and that I was leaving and he thought this was the only way to keep me around?

“Come on, open it.”

“Fine.” You smile down at the box and slowly slide off the bow. “Please tell me you have photos of you trying to tie this bow. Preferably while you were wearing your supe suit.”

“I already destroyed the evidence.”

“Figures.” You sigh. “Would have been a nice birthday present.”

“I think this is better, but given the pace you’re going at I’ll still be sitting here waiting for you to open it at your next birthday.” Ben takes a drink from his glass.

“Which I won’t be celebrating.”

"Oh you're going to. I’ll make sure.”

You roll your eyes at him, before finally opening the velvet box and your next joke is forgotten as you struggle to catch your breath. You were expecting something art related. Ben always got you brushes, paints, colored pencils, and any other art supply-like gift, because he knew that you liked those things but not tonight. Because for your 65th birthday Ben decided to get you something that took your breath away.

Nestled in black velvet is a pearl necklace, elegant, beautiful, catching in the fluttering warm light of the restaurant as the band in the corner continues to play a jazzy tune that makes you remember the records your father would listen to while he smoked before bedtime.

“Ben-“ You begin to say, but you can’t finish your sentence, you're too surprised to say anything else.

Not once in all the years you’d been friends had Ben bought you jewelry. Shopping for his birthday was harder, his last one you had gotten him a pair of silver cufflinks that he was currently wearing, but each time you bought him something like that it didn't feel like you were revealing too much about how you felt and it never felt like a gift you would give someone who was more than your friend. But now, staring down at the necklace that Ben bought you feels, intimate almost romantic.

“I remembered how upset you were when you lost the one your dad got you.” Ben says slowly, his eyes on you. “I know it’s not the same one, but the lady in the store said it was the most like the ones they made when we were younger and I thought-“ He rubs the back of his neck. “Um- I thought you’d like it.”

You smile, still unable to speak, fighting the happy tears that build behind your eyes. You had lost the necklace your father got you a few months ago and you tore your entire apartment apart to find it. Ben had walked right into the middle of the chaos and found you a sobbing mess.

Your father had bought it for you on your 23rd birthday. It was your first birthday as a supe and your first one away from home. Your father had it delivered to you with a vase of fresh cut lavender, because you couldn’t go home and he couldn’t get away. It was one of the last things you had from him, besides the antique watch perched on your wrist.

“I can’t believe you remembered that.” You swallow the ball of emotion lodged in your throat.

“I do listen to you.”

You look up and raise an eyebrow.

“Sometimes.” His soft smile makes you feel light headed and makes you wish all over again that you had the courage to tell Ben the three little words that you'd always wanted to.

“I don’t know what to say-“

“Too much? Because I can take it back and buy you a paintbrush-“ Ben starts to reach for the box, but you catch his hand against the table tangling your fingertips together.

“No. It's perfect. Thank you Ben.”

He looks relieved by your answer. “You’re welcome.”

The soft sounds of conversation swell around you mixing with the tinkling of utensils against plates and the music that pours from the band in the corner where a singer dressed in a long red sequined gown sings a familiar song. But you can't stop admiring the necklace nestled in the fabric, your hand still clasped in Ben's on top of the table.

Ben finally breaks the silence. “Do you want me to help you put it on?”

You blink for a minute to comprehend what he was asking, raising your eyes to his genuine smile. "Please.”

Ben stands from his chair and comes around behind you as you gently twist your hair out of the way, so he has access to your neck. His rough fingertips brush against the smooth skin of your neck sending a shiver down your spine that you hope Ben misses because how would you explain that? When he secures it at the back of your neck you look down at the pearls, holding them between your thumb and forefinger.

"They're beautiful." You whisper, before looking back up at him.

"Yes, beautiful." He responds, but Ben isn't looking at your necklace, his eyes are locked on your face.

What is going on?

"Ben-" You begin to say, attempting for the first time to ask him why he does this, acts different around you, gives you hope and then takes it all away, but he interrupts you.

"Come on." His hand falls on yours and he pulls you up out of your chair, weaving through the other tables to stand in front of the band in the corner. His right hand finds the small of your back, while his left gently holds your right in the air.

"What are you doing?" You ask.

"Isn't it obvious?" Ben smiles. "We're dancing."

"No one else is dancing." You look around the room at the couples sitting quietly together enjoying their meals, who have begun to watch Ben and you sway to the music.

He leans forward to whisper into the curve of your ear. "Then let's show them how it's done Sweetheart."

You can't help but laugh at him, enjoying the way that he feels pressed against you, how it makes you feel alive in the best way, how you feel safe in his arms. Being here, swaying to the last few notes of the song with him made you reconsider leaving again. Ben was the only person who knew you completely, inside and out, the only person who seemed to understand you. Choosing to leave him would be like choosing to leave home, because after everything you'd been through, Ben was home.

As soon as the song ends, the one that follows is familiar, a tune that sparks a memory at the back of your mind. You raise your eyes to Ben's. His are crinkled with his smile, a mischievous glint behind them.

"Ben, did you tell them to play-"

"Yeah. I told them to play our song." He whispers, holding you tighter against him.

The memory of the night you first danced warms against your skin. You remembered it well. It was the night that you almost told him you loved him, the same thing you were considering right now. You couldn't believe that he remembered the song you danced to. You smile at the memory of that night, when Ben punched Howard in the face and it gave you a sickening amount of joy.

“What are you smiling at?” Ben asks you.

“I still can’t believe you hit him.” You shake your head with a laugh.

"He hurt you. And I didn't like that he made me stop dancing with my girl."

You sigh before you can stop yourself the phrase immediately making the laughter dissipate and making the warm feeling at his touch fade. Tonight Ben was again making you think that he wanted to be more, and worst of all it was making it harder to leave. Because what if this was him trying to tell you the only way he knew how? What if this was him finally admitting that he loved you and you just left?

"What?” He frowns down at you.

“I don’t know why you keep calling me that.”

"What?"

"Your 'girl'." You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the frustration from making you say more.

“You don't think you are?"

“What do you think it means? To me it means being in a relationship with someone. We have been friends for over fifty years and you have never once said that you wanted to be more-"

"I did try to propose.” Ben jokes, not understanding that you’re upset.

"Really? That was your proposal?" You scoff rolling your eyes. "A joke while you were sitting on my shitty couch drunk off your ass while trying to apologize for almost killing Noir and telling me that you hate when I get in your way? Forgive me for imagining some big gesture and for not swooning."

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Oh please-“

“I’m fucking serious.” He shrugs.

“What?” You look him in the eye to look for the teasing glint, but it's not there, Ben looks serious.

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not.” Ben’s eyes lock with yours. “I also didn’t apologize for almost killing him. And I do hate when you get in my way."

"Yes, I figured that given how angry you looked." You roll your eyes, glancing to look at the couples around you again, but this time the happiness you felt for them is gone. The jealousy is back coupled with the frustration of Ben acting like Ben and then pulling a complete 180 the next day and making you question everything. Because you wanted to exist in the moments that he was still Ben and you didn’t want to leave him, but you did want to leave Soldier Boy. The problem was right now all you saw was Ben and you hated that you couldn’t enjoy it because you knew it would end. Someone would piss him off or he’d get drunk or high or go down the rabbit hole with some other woman and Ben would be gone.

You didn’t understand how he could go from hot to cold so quickly.

“But I didn’t lie when I said I’d never hurt you.” Ben's voice rumbles up through where his chest is pressed against yours.

You want to say that you believe him, but after the past forty years you weren’t sure anymore. And that thought hurt more than anything else. You didn’t know your best friend anymore, and it scared you.

Your eyes are leveled on Ben’s chest, by now he’s stopped swaying you to the music. You know what will happen when you look up into his eyes, he'll make a joke or say something like the last forty years never happened and you'll crumble like always. You can feel his breath against your face, the warmth of his body transferring through his chest and soaking into yours.

“Y/n, please look at me.” He releases your hand and cups your cheek to tilt you head upwards to him. The one still planted on your back slides down to your waist, tightening around you as you lock eyes with him. “You know that I’d never hurt you. Right?”

Ben's eyes lock on yours, the love and care reflected in the irises makes your body burn. He's never looked at you like that, looked at you like you were the only woman in the world and deep down it makes you want to pull him close and whisper the three little words you've wanted to say for fifty seven years.

You focus on Ben's words to shake it off, it was the same thing he’d said four years ago, but this time the air between you is charged with electricity.

And you can’t take it anymore.

“Why?” You whisper.

It catches him off guard. “What?”

“Why are you different with me? When the cameras stop rolling, when the team goes home, when it’s just the two of us, you’re different." You stop to catch your breath. "Ben, I’ve known you for fifty seven years. And in the last forty you’ve changed. But not around me, not when it’s just the two of us. You show up at my apartment in the middle of the night, we talk, we laugh about the past, you sleep in my bed, you call me 'your girl'-”

“You’ve known me longer than anyone else-” His hand is still cupping your cheek now, thumb gently brushing against the smooth skin making your throat tight.

“But even before all this, when we were still in Philadelphia. You were always around me, showing up, taking me out to do things in the city. Ben, we both know how you are. I watched you chase after whatever caught your eye and even now-“ You shake your head frustrated. “But you never act that way with me.”

Ben is quiet for a minute, his eyes searching yours, soft green in the fluttering lights above your heads. “Because you’re different y/n. You’ve always been different.”

“But that doesn’t tell me why Ben. We’ve been doing this for so long and I want-“ You sigh frustrated with yourself because you can’t say it, can’t say that you want him. “I mean I’m not sure if I can-“ You were going to say that you weren’t sure you could do this anymore, that you wished he would let you go, wished that you could walk away, and wished that he would stop giving you hope that the two of you could be something more because you couldn’t do it.

But the words are stopped when his lips meet yours.

You inhale sharply in surprise, before your entire body melts against his, deepening the kiss as you drag your hands up into his dark hair, while your mind goes blissfully blank. Ben’s mouth is firm but tender against yours, moving in a slow dance that makes warm tingles trail down your spine. The hand that was on your cheek, joins the other on your waist. His hand tightens on your hip as your song continues to play while the other presses against the small of your back to secure you against him. The solidness of his chest is familiar, molding against your curves in the best way as if he was made for you and you were made for him. You feel his thumb begin to circle slowly against the fabric on your hipbone and suddenly you remember the night he helped you loosen your corset and all you wanted was him. You never thought it would feel like this.

When you finally pull away for air, Ben doesn’t let you go far, he leans his forehead against yours, the look in his eyes is surprisingly vulnerable, as if he thinks you’re going to push him away.

“I-“ He begins, his green eyes are wide almost afraid.

Why?

You raise your hands to gently cup his strong jaw, searching his eyes with a smile to confirm you aren't going anywhere, before pulling him back to you for another kiss that makes your toes curl in the tight shoes you forced them into an hour ago. Ben sighs into your mouth, a soft sound that surprises you. You had seen him kiss other people before. Ben was anything but gentle, but now you believed that he reserved that gentleness just for you and it made you feel like you were going to melt into a puddle.

When you pull back again, Ben’s forehead is still against yours, his eyes bright and unmoving from your face. For a moment neither of you speaks, too afraid to break the silence.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours Sweetheart?” Ben asks, the deep rumble of his voice working up through where your chest is pressed against his. His expression is gentle, and he brings up one of the hands that was on your waist to trace the pillow of your lips with his thumb.

And before you lose your nerve your smile curves into a smirk. “Took you long enough Benjamin.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes at you.

“Make me.” You mutter against his thumb.

And then he’s kissing you again, moving his lips in tandem with yours while your heart flutters and dances. And you never want it to end, because he's kissing you like he never wants to let you go and you're kissing him like you don't want him to.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Ben mutters against your lips with a smile, his deep eyes catching yours. "Don't be jealous of Missy Callahan. She's nothing compared to you, never has been, never will be."

Your heart warms, cheeks blushing with his words, because even after all these years, Ben still knew exactly what to say. You hold his face reverently, admiring the familiar dips and curves, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. "Don't be jealous of Howard. He meant nothing to me. No one means as much to me as you do Ben." You whisper back before you kiss him and allow yourself to fall again, hoping that this time he’ll catch you.

*************************************

“Did you want something to drink?” You ask Ben, gesturing with your free hand towards the kitchen.

Standing in your apartment feels different post kiss. It feels like this all represents something bigger now. The apartment, him coming upstairs even though he has spent most of the nights here since you bought it and of course the way he’s looking at you, how he’s been unable to stop looking at you since he kissed you.

“Are you going to get it for me?” Ben is still holding your hand, had held it the entire car ride, only releasing it when he got out to open the door for you and then took it again as you walked up to your apartment. His thumb is moving across the back in a soothing motion that makes you want to curl up in the warmth that trails behind like a cat in the sun.

“I’m sure you remember where it is”

“Mhmm.” Ben is eyeing you again, the green in his eyes darkening in a way that makes your throat tight.

You’re not sure who moves first, all you know is that someone closes the distance between you, and you lose yourself in him. Your curves melt against the hard muscles of Ben’s chest and arms as he pulls you into him, his hands gripping your waist so tight that you know there might be bruises but you don’t care.

Your hands trail up his muscular chest to tangle in his hair, pulling at the darkened strands and forcing his mouth harder against yours.

He tastes like whiskey and smoke, night and day, and all those bittersweet moments you’ve shared over the years you’ve known him. There is no semblance of Soldier Boy left behind, it’s just Ben and you and it's everything you wanted for so long. The kiss is charged with so much emotion and tension you feel something inside you snap and warmth floods your body in its wake. Ben moans into your mouth, his hands coming down to sweep low over your curves and ignites a fire in the pit of your stomach that you’ve never felt before.

There had been others try to do exactly this. Other heroes you politely declined because you didn’t feel anything for them. You remember the kisses with Howard, passionless, boring, but being here with Ben was like nothing you’d ever imagined. The subtle scratch of his scruff against your cheeks makes you lose all feeling in your legs, his strong embrace makes goosebumps burn against your skin, and the sounds he’s making against your lips makes your heart seize in your chest.

He backs you up and you both fall on the couch in a tangle of limbs, his body caging you beneath him while his fingertips boldly trail against your body, finding places that make you moan into his mouth.

You can feel his smirk against your lips and you’ve never felt more sexy in your life. Ben’s moans against every piece of skin he can get his lips against make you blush crimson and echo his cries with soft sounds that make him grip you tighter. His hands are everywhere, coaxing along your curves, discovering places that you didn’t know could be sensitive and that make you gasp and arch against him as he continues to kiss you.

Everything about this feels right, feels perfect, as if you were both made for this exact moment. The subtle drag of his hands against you, the firm assertive way he holds you beneath him, how your body responds to his touch, and the way your heart continues to swell in your chest, frantically beating as if it wishes to break free. You forget about all the other women he's ever been with, all the others he's probably held close, nothing else exists at this moment, nothing else exists except him and you here on this couch. His lips ghost to your neck as he sucks a mark into the column of your throat and you realize he's saying your name over and over the way that no one ever has.

There’s a loud ripping noise and you understand that Ben ripped off the bottom half of your dress, the tattered remains just barely brushing against your thighs. But you can’t be angry with him for that, not when everything he’s doing feels perfect.

Ben’s hands slowly begin to push up the bottom of your now ruined dress and you come back down from your high, feeling the gentle press of his fingers against your thigh as they begin to move upwards.

“Ben-" You breathe.

You hate how breathy your voice sounds, but the new sensations running through your body are almost too overwhelming for you to gain control of. If you weren't both as indestructible as you were you would be afraid of the possibility of killing Ben.

He moans into your neck, working his hand up further to a place that makes your grip his shoulders tight and you leave bruises of your own, because you’re the only person strong enough to bruise him, to leave marks against his almost invulnerable skin. And it makes a shudder go down his spine.

"Ben wait-"

He stops, looking down at you with wide eyes, pupils dilated in a way that almost sends you back into a frenzy with him. "What's wrong?" He is also out of breath, chest rising and falling fast. You can hear his heart beat thundering in his chest, beating in tandem with yours.

“Before we do this I just want to tell you that I’ve never-" You bite your lip nervously. "I've never done this before.”

“This?” He looks confused, withdrawing his hand from under your ruined dress.

“Well- you know." You gesture between the two of you. "This.”

"You've never had sex with anyone before?"

"No." You flush bright red wondering if that's a deal breaker for him. If he wanted someone more experienced. "I’m sorry."

He sits there for a minute, staring down at you. "Why are you apologizing?” Ben’s hand brushes your hair away from your face in a gentle gesture, so different than the heavy caresses of his hands against your curves he did earlier.

“I don’t know.” You whisper embarrassed. “I just- everyone else has and I’m pretty sure you have with millions of people.”

“Well not millions.”

“But still.” You suddenly think that this was a giant mistake, that you should just go to your room in shame. You drop your eyes to his chest embarrassed.

His hands are stroking along your waist, toying with the frayed edges of your dress. “Y/n.” He whispers.

“What?” You mumble.

Ben raises his hand to cup your cheek, turning your gaze back on him. The way he’s looking at you causes a hot jolt of energy to race down your spine and makes you wish that you were more confident or knew what you were doing.

He’d been with hundreds of women all kinds of women and what had I been doing all these years? Nothing and no one. I’m not really sure if I understood the mechanics OF sex- but oh how I wished. My head was just getting in the way of everything else as usual.

“I will admit that I have slept with a lot of women.” Ben sighs. “But it’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to-“

“I want to.”

“Are you sure? I don’t know if I’m the best person for this-“ And for a moment you think he looks almost worried.

Why would he think that?

“I’m sure. I want it to be you. I’ve always wanted it to be you.” You breathe, running your hands through his hair, your cheeks flushing bright red with your confession, afraid that you’re saying too much, giving too much away as to how much he means to you.

“Really?” Ben smiles in a way that makes your breath catch.

You nod.

“I can’t promise it won’t hurt.” The darkness in his eyes shifts to something else and for a moment it’s difficult for you to form a sentence. He leans his forehead against yours, searching your eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Ben whispers it like a secret.

“You’re not going to hurt me. I trust you Ben.” You whisper, knotting you hands in his hair.

“You do?”

You nod your head. “And I’m pretty sure that I’m just as capable of hurting you-“

“Maybe.” The look in his eyes is back, blazing through his green irises in a way that makes your throat swell closed. He bends over to whisper against the curve of your ear. “Then again, I kinda like that Sweetheart.” His lips brush just behind your right ear, making a shiver go down your spine. Ben smiles at your reaction before he dips down to kiss you, but it’s different, the kiss is soft, trusting, and not the previous manic haze of desire it was previously. “ I know you think it’s a big deal, but I like that I’m your first. Because it means that no other man has touched you, made you feel any of the things that I’m going to do to you, and that I’ll never have to share you with anyone else.” His grip on your waist tightens possessively. “That you’ll be completely and utterly mine and no one else can do a damn thing.”

You inhale and try not to faint from the darkened look in his eyes. “Well when you put it that way-“

“Come on.” Ben stands from the couch.

Before you can get up to follow he picks you up like you weigh nothing causing you to automatically wrap your thighs around his waist as he kisses you feverishly again, wiping your mind of anything and everything but him.

“What are you doing?” You breathe, entangling your hands at the nape of his neck to secure yourself.

“I’m not going to let your first time be on some shitty couch.” He mutters against your lips while adjusting his grip under your legs

And with that he takes you down the hall and kicks your bedroom door closed behind you.

********************************************

A/N: Well it finally happened. Unfortunately this is also when all hell breaks loose…

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series let me know :)

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#soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fic #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #jackles #the boys #the boys season 3 #the boys series #the boys tv #the boys s3

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peterparkouryo · 1 year

Text

captivated habits | 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

prompt: your unrequited love for peter turns unhinged.

warnings: mentions of stalking, f!masturbation (referenced), unrequited love, obsessive behaviour, ptsd, erotomania, attachment issues, and bpd (borderline personality disorder)

word count: 5.9k

a/n: i was feeling dark, so read at your own risk i guess. also tysm for the love on rebound ajnskafn!! part three is in the works <3

The moment you met him, you should've known something was wrong with you.

At first, you thought it was an innocent crush, always having that feeling of butterflies flying around in your stomach when you were around him. You even looked forward to going to school, having the energy that normally you never had. He had you on a euphoric feeling.

The next thing you know, you're becoming a lot more addicted than you should've. Most people say it might be limerence, but you know that's almost complete bullshit. Now, those people could be telling the truth, but there was something deep down inside you that ached, always.

You were becoming a different person in the most unhealthy way. You started to seek him out in the school hallways, got to know his schedule, and there was even one point where you followed him home (which may or may not have been an accidental occurrence that happened more than once).

He of course did not know who you were, you weren't friends but he knew you from a few of your classes (three of them to be exact), so he had no idea of your intense feelings for him.

It was unrequited in the worst way possible. How can someone so pretty, so pure and innocent not feel the same way? Possibly because you made no effort to have an actual conversation with him, the only time you did was when he asked to borrow your pencil. Let's just say you cherished his touch on the wooden object as soon as you got home from school that day.

The boy in question is Peter Benjamin Parker. The absolute love of your life. His beautiful chestnut brown hair, those same coloured eyes that shine brighter than the sun, moon and stars. His nose as crooked as a trail through the woods, the small dotted freckles decorating its presence. The boy was one of a kind, you loved him more than you loved yourself.

There were times where you would stay up at night, fantasizing about what it would be like for him to yours. Being able to embrace his warmth, letting him be the shoulder you cry on, having special dates only reserved for the two of you. Those thoughts ate away in your head, you were too down bad, but you didn't care.

Currently, you were laying in your bed, trying to get proper sleep. It had been a long day, only having a little amount of time to see him. If it wasn't for your mother who had unfortunately picked you up early because you had a dentist appointment, you would had got to see him longer throughout the day. The class she had called you out of just so happened to be the class Peter was in, so now he probably thought you had something wrong with your teeth, which wasn't the case. You only had three hours and fifthteen more minutes until you got to see him again.

You would always get up an hour before you had to attend school, picking out your prettiest outfit for him even if he didn't pay attention to you half the time. It wasn't his fault, never would it ever be his fault. Plus, you liked watching the sun rise, imagining what it would be like to be on a random rooftop of New York, watching the star rise in its wake with Peter.

Peter had always got to school five minutes after it's starting time, reasons you were unsure of. You always tried to linger around his locker before he arrived because it gave him a chance to see you once he cascaded up the stairway. His gaze was always straight ahead (or sometimes downward depending on his mood that morning), so you sometimes purposely walk past him after standing at his locker for five minutes straight. This became a daily routine.

Though so far it doesn't seem like you have a mental illness, but there is surely something wrong with you without a doubt.

People who just have "crushes" or are "in love" are the people you tend to avoid. Those are silly feelings. Feelings that only last for a few weeks or even months. With Peter, you knew it was more than love, it made your head spin with the possibilities that you had a chance with him.

You knew Peter never felt the same way, he didn't even know your name, which is understandable because you never made the effort to get him to know your name. But there were times that made you feel like he knew exactly who you were. He would sometimes send a small friendly smile your way, ask you for help on problems that involved the classes you shared together, and even grazed your fingertips when you gave him that pencil. It was a sign of the start of your love story.

Sometimes you wrote letters to him, none of them were sent of course (except maybe the poems), and even emailed him a few times, anonymously complimenting him on his excellent work or you would write words of affirmation on his favourite coloured sticky notes, placing them on his locker before, after, or during school hours.

You knew Peter didn't take a liking into your unwanted gifts. There had been a few times when you had sent him LEGO Star Wars sets to build with his friend, Ned. You only did that because you heard him talking about it, and you loved the idea of making him happy. You even started watching Star Wars because he was so fond of it. Sadly enough, he had exchanged your gift for some sort of technology for whatever project he was making. You only knew this detail because you were there, obviously.

It would had hurt a lot more, but you were glad he was actually happy with his barters. Doing it a few more times only proved his happiness was limited and you noticed it started creeping him out instead of doing the exact opposite.

You feared the worst if he ever found out it was you all along.

Once the timer hit six thirty AM, you eagerly arose from your bed, grabbing your outfit you had thought thoroughly about since yesterday when you had went shopping with your mom. You bought clothing items you knew he would like, you were feeling hopeful.

You even snuck into your mother's beauty kit, applying a step my step makeup look you saw on YouTube last night. It wasn't too much make up, light enough for Peter to see the glow that amplify your best features.

After what felt like ages of applying the look, you grabbed your backpack from your closet, the pictures that decorated the inside only making you smile, thinking of the day that's bound to be wonderful ahead of you.

The pictures weren't anything too special, just a few off guarded candids of Peter, either reading, walking in or out of Delmar's, or your personal favourite, when you were outside in the field during gym for one class, you just so happened to catch a glimpse of his smile. You've never pulled out your camera so fast.

Yes, it was unnatural, and borderline creepy, but he didn't suspect a thing considering you're in the school's photography club. To be fair, the only reason you joined was for the sole reason of taking pictures of Peter.

Sometimes you would remove the picture from the closet's wall and get under the covers of your bed, holding it up to your face, touching yourself as you imagined what it would be like to have him engulfing your body, having his way with you.

Those thoughts were for another time, you figured you could wait until later tonight to revisit them.

When you exit your room, you make your way out of the apartment, making sure to have the new digital camera you had previously bought with your last paycheque, inside of your backpack. Though you only did photography because of Peter, it still interested you in ways that were sometimes not even related to the boy, which is less than one percent of the time.

If you were to put all the pictures you took on the small objects into a hard drive and upload it to a computer, people would be freaked out by just how much pictures you had of Peter.

You were so glad when you arrived at school, quickly shoving your things into your locker, making your way to the second floor to where Peter's was.

Your heart did somersaults, backflips, front flips even, as you got closer to the threshold. Though you knew the boy wouldn't arrive to school for another hour, you felt that if you stood near his locker long enough, you swear you felt his presence.

Walking up the stairs, dodging the many bodies of students that lingered around, you were so excited to just stand near his locker, tracing your fingers across the combination that you knew had his hands touch every so often.

The only downside to it was you didn't know his combination and no matter what you did, you could never figure it out, even if you planned to watch him put it in one day, the numbers were just so small to see, it made you feel undeveloped that you couldn't be closer to him in that sense.

What you did not expect to see when you finally were on the second floor was Peter standing at his locker talking to his friends.

No-, not friends, Ned, his only friend, and some girl who you recognized from your Math class.

She was tall, a lot taller than both Ned and Peter, she had brown curly hair and her skin was a light fair tan, her gorgeous face only adding to her appearance.

You could feel your guts inside your stomach twist and turn, the sick feeling only getting stronger when you watch as Peter effortlessly laughed at whatever it was the girl had said.

When had Peter decided that coming to school one hour before he actually does was a good idea? And why had you had no knowledge about his sudden change of schedule?

It was unfair that the boy had decided out of nowhere to change his daily routine. It threw you way off course, and you only hoped that the boy only made a change in his morning route, opting to still go to Delmar's every Wednesday (today) after school.

Your glare only got more diabolical the more you watched the three of them interact, the sight making your thoughts whirl with things only psychotic murderers would dare think of.

"Hey." A voice greets you from behind, startling you and you thanked whoever it was before you went too far off the deep end of the sight a few meters in-front of you.

You turn around, your gaze meeting your friend since freshman year, Cindy Moon.

She was a pretty Korean-American girl, her long black hair complimenting her small figure.

If you were being honest with yourself, you were only friends with the girl because she was on the Decathlon Team with Peter, and she was the only one from the team to actually make an effort to talk to you whenever she wasn't involved with studying, or being a friend to the world.

Of course the girl is aware of your "crush" on Peter, unaware of your obsessive delusions that you would much rather keep to yourself. There were times that the girl had made plans for the two of you to talk, but you were too afraid and unprepared to actually grow the balls and do it.

It's not like you haven't planned your first encountrment with the boy in your head, but you'd much rather do it on your own accords than have someone else half ass do it out of the kindness of their heart.

"Hey Cid." You reply with a small smile, quickly turning your attention back toward where Peter and his friends would have stood, but unfortunately they were nowhere to be found.

You eye twitched at the thought, scolding the girl behind you for missing your chance at seeing Peter walk away, capturing the backside of his figure as he did.

You turn to face the girl with a frown, watching her smile never disappear.

"Ready for first period? I did the homework for you!" She cheerily says, pulling a piece of paper from behind her back, giving it to you.

You take it gratefully, looking down at the Chemistry homework you knew you weren't going to do whatsoever.

Now to make yourself clear, you weren't using Cindy for doing your homework, that was just a plus. It wasn't your fault the girl was such a pushover. You had better things to do, like develop your film from your camera, find the perfect GPS tracking devices off Amazon that costed less than at least sixty dollars, and be near the love of your life any chance you got.

"Thanks." You simply say, your hands gripping the paper slightly.

"You're welcome." Cindy replies, and you were just about sick of her smiling.

"Okay, stop smiling, it's getting creepy." You tell her with a grimace, satisfied with yourself once her face slowly falls to a neutral expression.

You really had no problem with "happy-go people", it was just when someone who you knew or not had too much to smile about, it outraged you for reasons you weren't too sure of. Nevertheless, it was one of your many pet peeves, and the more you thought about those thoughts, you realized you might just be the most pessimistic person to walk earth.

There were a few things that made you happy of course, and you had a pretty well-tamed structure to maintain those happy thoughts to yourself, so you couldn't see why people most of the time couldn't do the same.

Even if it wasn't just "happy" thoughts, you knew humans were utterly incapable of keeping their thoughts to themselves. Always finding any reason to create chaos with their deliberations.

Sometimes you could never understand, maybe will never understand why humans are the way they are, yourself included you supposed.

"We should get to class." The girl breaks you from your notions, tugging on your sleeve as she drags you through the hall.

You blink a few times, coming back into reality, staring dumbly at a almost frantic Cindy Moon.

"Alright," You tell her quickly, snatching your arm away from her hold, following the black haired girl through the hallway to your class.

Your first period went by agonizingly slow. You were just itching to see Peter for your third period, and second period wasn't any better with its slow clock, which also happened to have been broken.

When second period was over after what quite literally was forever, you hastily packed your things and made a bee-line to your third period class, sitting in your unassigned assigned seat, said place had the perfect view of Peter as well.

You pulled out your notebook, the item was pencil filled with all sorts of logs of whenever you'd see or hear of Peter, and if you were to be honest, it was almost out of pages. You made sure to be careful when in public, hoping and praying that the people surrounding you didn't take a glance to see your so called "creepy" hobby and take it completely out of context. If that were to ever happen, you would quickly come up with a lie, or maybe if god was real, they wouldn't care in some sense.

You adored keeping track of Peter, it made you feel closer to him, though yes, there are other things that you do consider as close as you can get, but you know this is a way of knowing him better without actually having to talk to him.

"Is anyone sitting here?" A voice breaks you from your trance, and you smoothly and swiftly close your notebook, glancing up to the source of the voice curiously.

Your heart almost stops right then and there. You didn't want to believe it and had to blink more than twice to make sure you were seeing the person who stood before you. Suddenly, you felt this immense amount of impulse, the feeling being too reaming for you to handle.

In some fucked up way, you're sure you deserve this, having this weird inkling that the boy standing above you, almost towering you, had known about your obsession. He had only come over to tease you about it and possibly confront your creepy actions to the entire class (maybe even the entire school if you're honest). It made your head spin and you lack the proper ability to conjure up any english words, his eyes practically pleading for an answer.

"I, you,-" You start to form a sentence, scanning his attire, making a mental note in your head, and your heart beat increases to make things that much harder.

Peter was way too nice for his well-being, and normally you'd hate that in a person, but this was Peter, you loved anything he offered, and if he were to commit a violent crime, you'd be his number one defender. Hell, you'd even help him commit any crime if he asked.

Still, you figured maybe you were in some dream and Peter wasn't actually approaching you, asking if the seat next to you was available, because he shouldn't know of your existence, and it should almost be a world of fiction to allow him to ask you so.

"No." You mumble, hoping he'd heard it because you knew you weren't going to say more than just that one word.

Peter shows you a smile in appreciation and if you weren't sure you died before, you're sure you one percent died just now.

The boy sets down his bag near the free chair, and you move your stuff out the way to allow him the space he needed, watching his every move carefully.

You wonder if this was a wake up call of fate. In your head, you knew Peter was the one for you as much as you were the one for him, and maybe there was a god and the universe is conspiring for the two of you to be together. All it took was a little push.

The teacher walks in moments before the bell rings, and as quickly as he enters, the lesson starts not even seconds later.

"Sorry, do you have a pencil?" Peter has asked you in the past, of course, you remember it like yesterday and if you didn't, you knew it was probably in your 'log' notebook anyway.

You smile, a small unnoticeable one (that you made sure of), and instead of giving him a verbal answer, you dig through your backpack, pulling out a pencil before handing it to him, hearing a small 'thank you' that you surely heard.

Okay when you say a pencil, you mean the pencil, the same one you, well, had touched yourself with. Not that it was coated in anything other than your wetness, because if you were being frank, it was damn near impossible to reach climax with a object that thin.

You expertly observe Peter, your heart swelling at how tenderly he held onto the pencil, his concentrated expression doing wonders to your well-being. The poor boy had no idea of the sinful deeds you had done with the object in his grasp.

The whole lesson, you paid more attention to Peter, his scent, the way he wrote, and the many facial expressions he made whenever he was listening to your boring teacher speak. It was like watching your favourite film on repeat, learning the lines of each scene, and when you knew you had mastered each scene perfectly, you'd reenact each line word for word. Peter was your very own favourite movie, and hopefully one day he can reciprocate how you felt, perfecting you the way you perfected him.

"Here's you pencil, sorry I keep borrowing from you." He lets out a chuckle as he hands you back your (his) pencil, but you weren't up for that. As much as you would like to take it and cherish it, you knew it would mean a lot to you if he had kept it.

"No, you can, you can have it." You tell him, rejecting his hand that held the pencil.

Peter gives you a quizzical look, making sure it was okay if he did and you nod in confirmation.

"Oh, thank you." He smiles that award winning smile again.

You smile, packing your things up as the bell rings, students rushing out this dull classroom. You wanted to get out of there quickly, because you had something you needed to do and you know that if you got done in time, you'd catch Peter entering his science class with his friend, Ned.

"Hey, wait, um.." Peter calls out to you before you could exit the door and you turn around, albeit, quite desperately, seeing the boy with his backpack slung over one of his shoulders approaching you.

You feared the worst, truly. If he wasn't going to confront you in the beginning of class, he sure was now. Maybe the boy didn't want to embarrass you terribly in-front of everyone. Wanting no one around when he calls you out.

"I see you around a lot and I was just wondering if you wanted to sit with my friends and I at lunch today." Peter suggested, fiddling with the strap of his backpack.

"Not that I stalk you or anything, I just, you know, you seem cool and I guess...I don't know..." He seems at a lost for words, and you find it almost ironic how he doesn't stalk you, it being the other way around. Not that the boy needed to know that.

You stare at him, for a while, thinking of a answer that didn't seem too desperate, because had you known today was the day the love of your life talked to you for more than a second, you'd had the whole day planned out expertly.

"Sure." Was the most simple answer you could come up with, and the faltering smile from Peter grows wider.

"Cool." Peter nods in joy, walking past you, his scent ten times more stronger than it was before.

You turn around, watching him walk away, a skip to each step he took and you smile at his gleaming attitude, though you feel guilty for being the prime reason.

Guilt is such a improper feeling. Why should you feel bad for being in love with someone? Yes, it was very unhealthy with the rate you were at, you weren't even above surface anymore with the way you felt for Peter, but you honestly, didn't care.

Love came in many definitions and if you had to be delusional and down right psychotic to express that, so be it.

Michelle Jones. A fellow student at Midtown School of Technology and Science. An observant person who was well gifted in being smart. She shares your math class, the top of it as well and you envy everything about her.

Not only was she drop dead gorgeous, though she never tries to dress up at all, or even wear make up for that matter, she was also friends with Peter. You couldn't understand how or why. Peter was too good for anyone, such as Michelle herself, maybe even Ned.

Michelle didn't appreciate everything Peter did. Didn't understand him the way you did. Didn't go out of her way to send him gifts you knew he'd adore.

You couldn't see pass the logic of those two people, with much different personalities being friends.

It made your skin crawl with nuisance. What could she possible bring to the table that made Peter want to keep her around?

Of course, it wasn't like they were dating, you're pretty sure at least, but why would Peter feel the need to be friends with any other girl other than you?

You were okay with him being somewhat friends with your unknown mutual one, Cindy, but being friends with a girl you barely knew was testing your limits.

You really had no right to be jealous, Peter was barely considered a friend himself, but if you two were to be together, he simply couldn't be friends with girls much prettier than you. It may give him the wrong idea and you were terrified he'd forget about your existence entirely.

Which is why you had to give Michelle the benefit of the doubt. You studied her all math class, trying to have a decent understanding as to who she was as person, and thank goodness you were a quick learner.

All it took, really, was the entire math class to scout out exactly who she is and how she worked. Maybe you could weasel your way into her small circle, become her friend and break her down bit by bit and have a guarantee she wouldn't even think to become anything more with Peter. You'd make her insecure.

Yes, it's a patent wicked plan, you knew that, but you weren't going to risk your chances at love with Peter.

"It's Michelle, right?"

The girl incuriously glances up at the source of the voice, the math problem she was working on merely forgotten.

"Who's asking?" Michelle wondered, and you subconsciously clench your jaw, showing the girl a small, forced smile.

"I am." You tell her simply, she squints curiously at you, scanning your figure.

She was trying to reading you, you could tell. You knew you weren't really an open book, and also you were well aware that she knows you don't talk much unless talked to, so it was probably strange to her that you of all people came up to her to start up a conversation.

"Do you need help with the work?" She questions, her gaze fixated on you in a way that almost makes you feel small, but you knew better.

"Um, no, I just..." You blink in confusion, trying to think of anything to say.

It was hard having conversations with people you barely knew. The only reason you were friends with Cindy was because she literally forcing herself to become your friend, which did end up going well for you. But, overall, you weren't a people person and it was obvious, painfully so.

"I know you from Peter." You grimace, and she nods slowly, noticing your delay.

Michelle gives you a long look, a look that you could interpret as a dubious gaze, one that said she didn't quite believe the words coming out your mouth. You weren't lying, you had known her from Peter, so you really had not understood why she was looking at you like you were the world's worst liar.

You lie, but you would never lie about Peter, unless you had to.

"From the stalking perspective or because you actually made the efforts to get to know him?" You think you hear her ask, you're not entirely sure, so you blink, watching the girl's face, her eyebrow raised as she awaited your answer.

"I'm sorry?" You quiz, hoping she'd repeat the question you knew you heard right.

"I said did he tell you I needed more friends?" Michelle was calm and collected, her face almost mocking you at your delusions.

You were out of your mind, it was to the point you were hearing things that weren't actually being said.

Granted, there was a certain possibility the girl had said that and you deluded yourself into believing that's not exactly what she said, hence why you had her repeat the question she asked. There was also a possibility she changed her words for your sake.

You knew you had to get rid of her.

"Not exactly.." You trail off, your mind drifted into different possible scenarios.

"Peter," You bite back a smile when his name rolls of your tongue. "Invited me to sit with him at lunch and I know you sometimes sit with him and his friend so, just trying to make friends with his friends." You tell her, hoping to cover up your growing anxiety.

"We're hardly friends." Michelle could almost laugh at your bold assumption.

If the girl wasn't so observant, you'd let out a breath of relief at that knowledge. Your body visibly relax.

Honestly, you had no idea what to say next. You wanted to say anything, but nothing came to mind. Michelle was probably the most difficult person (aside from Peter), to talk to. You wondered if Peter considered her a friend, and that thought alone did not sit well with you.

"Oh."

"Yeah, but guess it's cool he finally had the courage to talk to you." Michelle says, and this time you know you had heard her right.

Your eyes widen in the slightest, but still highly obvious way, at her words. It wasn't right to feel this amount of joy over a sentence, but you had been waiting for this confirmation for awhile.

He finally had the courage to talk to you.

Before you could ask the girl what she meant, the bell rings and you're happiness is replaced with anger, Michelle is quick to pack her things and rush out the door, and you watch her from the window of the classroom, thinking about her words over and over again.

This was probably unhealthy, very unhealthy in fact, to think such thoughts that rushed into your head. But, no, this, this was a clear sign from the possible god above.

Peter had the courage to talk to you, which meant he had some sort of romantic feelings toward you, a stark contrast from your intense feelings for him. You couldn't believe you had not noticed the signs. Maybe because you had not had the courage yourself to talk to him, and it really flew over your head of how he could possibly develop feelings for you if you watch his every move like a hawk.

Okay, maybe not all the time, but on a occasion you would gaze at him, because you loved his face, it was memorized, tattooed in your brain. Had Peter finally come to his sense that you and him belonged together? Maybe he had knew it was you all along who sent him those gifts, which made him fall in love with you even more, the poor boy just didn't know how to approach you.

Whatever it may be, you would delude yourself with the possibility of Peter having romantic feelings for you, because it was lunch time, which meant you got to sit with him, he had asked you to and it would be a crime to deny that offer from Peter.

You couldn't see it. Actually, you refused to believe it.

Peter Parker is such an unbelievable, incredible, pure soul. You needed and wanted to corrupt him, not in the same way you did with Michelle, no, you wanted to break his innocence, let him see the world for what it truly was.

He had this facade, you could tell, that the world was all sunshine and unicorns, it annoyed you. Of course, he could be masking his own sadness, which didn't sit well with you. Peter being unhappy made your heart ache in the worst ways possible. You knew that if there was any chance of the two of you becoming two souls and one heart, you had to decrypt his positive mindset.

Though, you love that about him, it wouldn't get him anywhere in life. You had to make him see that.

The lunch was admittedly, amazing. Despite your reluctance toward his friend(s), Ned was a pretty decent person, and in the future, you knew it would benefit you if you became friends with his friends, because that's what he wants.

Ned is an easy to talk to kind of boy, and he makes you laugh, a genuine laugh, sometimes you force it if you didn't understand the joke he told, for Peter's sake.

Peter on the other hand, really didn't spare you any glances unless he was talking to the entire table, and you found it weird, he had this sort of fearful glint in his eyes each time he made eye contact with you. You were worried, couldn't read him right to have an understanding as of why he was staring at you like you committed murder and swore him to secrecy.

Maybe it was because you were awfully quiet the whole lunch period, only laughing whenever Ned said something 'funny'. Truth be told, you had no faith in your voice to conjure up a proper sentence starter, so you relied on the table, and if the topic was in your interest, you'd voice your opinion.

None of that happened, Peter fiddled with his hands nervously, like he had something he wanted to say but couldn't word it right.

At some point Michelle had come over, and he eased up from the tension he felt, which didn't go unnoticed by you, your brain ticked in irritation.

"So, uh, what did you get on your science quiz, Ned?" Peter questioned randomly. Ned was on the topic of something Star Wars related, so it confused you, but you ignored it, picking at your food.

"I dunno, dude. We literally just took it." Ned points out and you glance up curiously, just in time to see Peter give Ned a wide eyed look before catching your gaze and showing you a tight lipped smile.

You don't reciprocate it, continuing to stare at him with a blank expression. Now you could see what was going on.

It wasn't that Peter had liked you, now you doubt that very much, he had felt bad for you because you had no friends, which wasn't true, you had one. Not only that, but there was this small itching, aching, feeling that he had some sense in the know of your activities, which involved him.

Maybe not all of them, but the stalking, possibly, the gifts, probably, and that's all you know he was maybe well aware of. It didn't take a genius to figure it out, but it did take a lot of backtracking to figure out when and where he had realized you were being a creep.

Or, you could be thinking into this too much, but you're and over thinker, so you're sure that the thing Michelle had definitely said was true, and she made sure to make Peter well aware of it.

It would explain why he was so nervous when asking you to sit with him at lunch, and why the boy was so uneasy when you resided at the lunch table.

You had to get away from the trio before confirmation could be made, so you throw your plastic fork on the tray of untouched food, quickly getting up from the lunch table.

"Wait, wher-, where are you going?" Peter was frantic, and you turn around, just because it was him, seeing all three of them stare curiously at you.

"I have, something to do?" You tell him, and you know it sounds more like a question, but you didn't care.

Michelle shares an unconvinced look with Ned, who tries his best to hide it, Peter glances at his female friend for help, and she shrugs before going back to her book, ironically titled, 'Notice'.

Fuck, now you knew they knew.

Peter's mouth opens, but now you're long gone. You had no idea how you could let this happen. You thought were thorough and careful, you made sure of it. It was Michelle, it had to have been.

You wanted to curse Peter for becoming friends with such an annoyingly observant person. You couldn't, and you knew that.

Despite him knowing about your stalking habits, you weren't going to let him know you knew. You were going pretend, and become the worst version of yourself you had always feared.

Just because Peter knows, doesn't mean you were going to stop, you just had to be extra careful now. You were going to make him come to a realization that you do what you do because you love him. Peter will come to his senses and soon love you.

You just had to eradicate the obstacles in his life.

part two???

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker smut #dark!reader #dark!reader x peter parker

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secretmellowblog · 7 months

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@breadvidence recently wrote a great bit of Les Mis meta where they pointed out how Jean Valjean’s “compliments” to Javert in Montreuil-sur-Mer really are just..... conciliatory flattery, and don't reflect his real feelings about Javert at all. And that's a great point, and something I wish more people explored! Lines like "you are a good man and I esteem you" aren't Jean Valjean's earnest feelings towards Javert. Instead they’re examples of the way Jean Valjean often retreats into excessive deferential politeness to authority as a survival strategy. As I mentioned in another recent post— Jean Valjean is a genuinely kind person, but he’s also someone who often has literally no choice but to act overly polite to authorities/the police, because if he’s not polite enough they might start to find him suspicious. If he doesn't lick their boots enough, they might start investigating him. He's instinctively deferential out of fear of violence. He's flattering out of fear. He's polite "at gunpoint." He's polite to cops the way you're polite to an armed police officer who pulls you over.

And Jean Valjean's polite tranquil behavior towards Javert during Javert's "resignation"— saying things like “you are a good man and I esteem you, I want you to keep your job” and etc etc— is later explicitly confirmed to be at least somewhat of a calculated tactical decision Jean Valjean made out of terror:

He was carried away, at first, by the instinct of self-preservation; he rallied all his ideas in haste, stifled his emotions, took into consideration Javert’s presence, that great danger, postponed all decision with the firmness of terror, shook off thought as to what he had to do, and resumed his calmness as a warrior picks up his buckler.

I love the phrase "he resumed his calmness as a warrior picks up his buckler"-- it's such a great way of summarizing how Jean Valjean's ability to have polite conversations even when he's breaking down internally has been such a useful defense mechanism for him. I also love the contrast between the excessively polite way Jean Valjean talks to Javert when he’s acting out of terror/self-preservation….vs the more honest way he talks about Javert when he’s alone during Tempest in a Skull:

“That Javert, who has been annoying me so long; that terrible instinct which seemed to have divined me, which had divined me—good God! and which followed me everywhere; that frightful hunting-dog, always making a point at me, is thrown off the scent, engaged elsewhere, absolutely turned from the trail: henceforth he is satisfied; he will leave me in peace; he has his Jean Valjean. Who knows? it is even probable that he will wish to leave town! And all this has been brought about without any aid from me, and I count for nothing in it!”

It's just extremely funny. The contrast between “you are a good man and I esteem you” vs “that Javert, who has been annoying me so long” <3 The contrast between “you are an honest man” vs “that frightful hunting dog” <3 The contrast between “I want you to keep your job” vs Jean Valjean fantasizing enthusiastically about how hopefully Javert will leave town and never ever annoy him again. <3

It makes the “Punish Me, Monsieur le Maire” stuff even funnier. Jean Valjean is dissociating out of panic and saying whatever polite platitudes he thinks will flatter Javert....but those polite platitudes keep making Javert spiral further into long-winded deranged rants about how he dESPISES this kindness and it enRAGES him, as Jean Valjean just sits there very politely & quietly losing his mind. It’s peak comedy really.

I feel like Jean Valjean’s deeply weird thing with Javert often gets flattened in different directions, when people interpret it. Either Jean Valjean is an all-forgiving all-loving angel who thinks Javert did nothing wrong, and all of his flattery is sincere expressions of admiration—- or Jean Valjean is (like in the BBC version) the kind of violent pitiless person who would angrily order Javert to kill himself. It's rare for writers to get anything resembling the hilariously baffling ambiguous Weirdness of his relationship with Javert in the book. I think it's because adaptations often don't grasp the idea that a genuinely kind compassionate character can also (underneath it all) still be deeply tormented, broken, and angry-- and that their anger doesn't mean they're any less kind, or any less capable of pity and mercy.

#is this coherent?#who knows #les mis #jean valjean #people might take this as me being anti valvert or whatever. but it is the opposite. it is a valvert post #this is Thee dynamic #the comedic potential #the hijinks that could ensue #also a tangentially related thing:#I think the thing that often puts me off a lot of valvert fics #is that I think most writers believe 'jean valjean being excessively kind to javert' would be a sign their relationship had *improved*#whereas to me its like #almost the opposite in a way?#I think maybe you would know Jean Valjean actually had a healthier dynamic with Javert #if he was comfortable enough to be angry with him or upset with him #without needing to be afraid that he'd suffer consequences for not being excessively respectful/deferential/ polite #and thats my hot take #like comment and subscribe! -dabs #read 'Annoyances' by secretmellowblog on Ao3

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imashoe69420 · 1 year

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Can you do a donnie x female reader, that reader has a crush on donnie but was worried that he might not feel the same or might reject reader or maybe wasnt interested on relationships. But little did reader know donnie felt the same but doesnt know how to confessed, he might asked april (or mikey) to asked reader what do they think of donnie or if reader like like him. (he also hid a small camera on april or mikey to listen their convo)

reader would rambled what they love about donnie and they suddenly said been like " I do like- no, love him, but I'm afraid he might not feel the same or reject me, If he doesnt feel the same then I'll respect it and move on already" what would donnie react what reader said?

The Perfect Apprentice

Rise!Donnie X Fem!Reader

Pronouns: Feminine (she/her)

Timeline: Post-Movie

Warnings ⚠️: Mild language

===================================

Things started out innocently.

April volunteered to be a tutor to high school student (Y/N) in order to obtain more credits. Soon, the young women learned that they had a lot more in common than they thought. Even after they completed their tutoring, the two would hang out frequently; (Y/N) eventually becoming an aid to April in exposing corrupt and unethical organizations.

Soon enough, though, the four-eyed teen revealed one of her biggest secrets to her partner in crime: April’s “foreign exchange student” friends. If someone had told (Y/N) that she was going to meet a bunch of walking, talking crime-fighting ninja turtles, she’d laugh in their face before questioning their sanity.

But now that she knew it was real, the girl couldn’t stop herself from asking the mutants question after question:

Who created you? What’s your diet like? Do you even need food? Why choose Martial Arts over another fighting style? (Y/N) wanted to know everything about each and every one of them.

Raphael, Leonardo, and Michelangelo didn’t really know how to answer most of her questions, but the purple clad turtle, Donatello, was very helpful.

The two of them became fast friends. (Y/N) would often help him in his lab, spending hours sometimes days tinkering away at whatever Donnie had been working on. During their downtime, the two would play video games or think about other inventions that would better society over a cup of coffee.

Eventually, something other than admiration began to consume their minds. And neither knew how to process it.

~~~

(Y/N) threw herself on her bed and sighed exasperatedly. Donnie was on her mind and she couldn’t shake him. He hadn’t even texted her and he still ran rampant in her head, consuming all the thoughts she had throughout the school day, the walk home, and now while she tried to rest.

It had been happening for the last two weeks. She noticed when she would practically sprint to her phone whenever a notification sounded off, hoping it was the mutant turtle genius asking her to come into the lair to help with another invention. Or (Y/N) would be making dinner and wonder if Donnie was hungry; maybe she could bring some food down to him.

Honestly, the teen questioned her sanity. Donnie was someone she almost idolized. He was extremely intelligent, always having a new plausible idea that (Y/N)’s peers just didn’t—no couldn’t—come up with. Not only that, but he enjoyed talking to her. She almost never had to ask him to work on a project. The turtle would text her nearly every day requesting her presence.

Donnie made (Y/N) feel wanted, and that’s what she liked the most about him.

So why did she feel so guilty about liking him? In general, it was because she didn’t want to ruin the friendship she cherished more than life itself. She felt like Donnie would have no problem cutting her —a human—out of his life.

(Y/N) could’ve have been more wrong.

~~~

Donnie was ten times the mess you were. The turtle caught himself pacing around his lab, fantasizing about his lab partner. Not dirty fantasies, but ones were he confessed to her and she received it well. But who was he kidding? Although he knew he was brilliant and probably one of the best scientists/engineers to every exist, he had to face the music:

(Y/N) was a human girl and he was a giant talking, bipedal turtle. A mutant. A freak of nature. What he was wasn’t natural; not even from Earth. There was no way (Y/N) would like someone like himself. On top of that, he wasn’t very physical and kind of emotionally inept. The purple turtle was also too caught up in his projects and experiments, and there were times where he would barely speak to (Y/N) when she was in the lab. Maybe the occasional “coffee?” or “did I leave the wrench over here?”, but besides that, no words were exchanged.

It made him almost angry. He knew he had to stop these feelings; tell that little voice in his head to pipe down and appreciate the girl as just a lab partner and no more. But every time he would shut the voice up, it would come back louder and louder, practically screaming at him to pursue his desires.

So Donnie conducted an experiment.

He knew April was the only one he could trust with this information, so the turtle recruited her. At first, she adamantly refused to do it, feeling like it was a set up.

“Look, I get you’re nervous and all, but don’t you think it’s a little weird to hook me up to a microphone so you can listen in?” April cocked an eyebrow at him. “Why can’t you just talk to her?”

Donnie gave the college student a pleading look. “It’s not that easy. It’s different for you, for humans.”

April sighed and shook her head. “Yeah, I get that. But it’s not like she doesn’t know you already, and she’s comfortable being around you. I don’t think it’s gonna be a bigger deal just because you’re a mutant.”

The purple clad turtle took a few seconds to process what his friend had said. It was somewhat true. When him and (Y/N) first met, she was more fascinated than frightened. She wanted to know more about him and his brothers, not run away from them.

But Donnie also knew he couldn’t risk this. He had to at least know if you were interested or not, then he could decide what face to put on from there. It took a bit of coaxing, but April finally agreed to do it.

~~~

(Y/N) softly hummed to herself as she fiddled with some wires connected the SHELDON when she heard quiet footsteps enter the lab. The girl spun around under the pretense that the purple turtle was to make an appearance, but was soon relaxed when she saw April instead.

“Oh, hey!” (Y/N) smiled. “What’s up?”

The college student shrugs slightly with an awkward laugh. “Nothin’ much. Whatchu workin’ on?”

(Y/N) gestured to the motherboard she was reprogramming on SHELDON. “Just some minor fixes to SHELDON’s programming. His artificial ocular system has been glitching lately.”

Man, maybe they are meant for each other, April thought.

“Aw, cool, cool… but I had a question about something. About Donnie.”

The high school student nearly dropped her soldering iron into the robot when April revealed her true intentions in talking to her. “Uh, what—what about him?”

A smirk creeping on her face nearly gave April away. “It’s just… you guys’ve been hanging out for a few months now and y’all seem really close. I was just wondering if you, like… y’know… liked him?”

(Y/N)’s heart thumped loudly in her chest as she attempted to avoid the older teen’s gaze. Had she been that obvious? There was no way! She always tried her best to stay calm, cool, and collected when hanging out with Donnie. How could she have known about her feelings towards him?

“I-I—well, not like anything crazy—er, it’s not like… well… uhm…” she stuttered beyond belief. “I mean… I just… admire him, I guess? He’s really smart and there aren’t a lot of people like that at my school. It’s—well—almost like my dream to work in a lab and stuff so…”

April tried her best to hide her smug grin once again. This was the best day of her life. “Oh, yeah, I feel you. Well, I was just wondering—”

“Please don’t tell him.” (Y/N) spoke quickly.

Suddenly, the college student broke out in a cold sweat. Shit shit shit…! Hopefully she doesn’t take this “spy business” personally.

“Y’know… I kinda have a feeling you won’t have to.”

~~~

Donnie slowly placed the headset he’d been using to listen to April and (Y/N)‘s conversation with.

“Holy shit… holy shit…!” He whispered to himself.

No one had ever talked about him like that, not even close. She admired him. She thought he was brilliant. Smart. From what he had gathered, (Y/N) liked him in the same way he liked her.

Was this all really real? Did (Y/N) actually like him? Thoughts bounced around in the turtle’s head. Although it had seemed to like him, she never said it verbatim. But despite this, Donnie enacted his plan.

~~~

“(Y/N).” The scientist greeted the girl as he took a seat next to her in his lab, noticing she was still tinkering away on SHELDON.

“O-oh, hey, Dee!” She stumbled over her words. “You missed April. She was here not too long ago.”

Donnie hummed in response before gently taking the soldering iron out of her hands and attempted to do what (Y/N) had been struggling on for the last two hours or so. SHELDON soon booted back up with a “sup dudes!” before flying off deeper into the lab.

(Y/N) giggled, hovering a hand over his shoulder in gratitude. “Thanks!”

After another hum, Donnie slightly opened his mouth getting ready to say something. But when the girl gazed up at him with a curious expression on her face, his words were caught in the back of his throat. The two stayed a few seconds like this until the purple turtle sighed.

“I won’t beat around the bush: I knew April was here earlier.” He admitted. “I… I was listening.”

The high school student suddenly groaned before covering her face with her hands. “Oh my god, I knew it…! I knew she said that for a reason.”

“I’m sorry.” Donnie quickly apologized. “I just wanted to know if you… felt the same.”

Bugged eyes protruded out of her head when he revealed his true feelings. There was absolutely no way he really felt the same way she did. This must be a prank.

But the almost pleading look on Donnie’s face told (Y/N) otherwise. “I… I mean—I do, but… no, no, I do. I really do. You’re amazing,Dee. And I like spending time with you.”

The giant turtle’s shoulders finally relaxed as he exhaled. Without much warning, (Y/N) leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his cheek. Before Donnie could react, the girl quickly stood to her feet and speed walked out of the lab.

Donnie couldn’t help but smile at her flustered form as he yelled after her, promising to text her soon.

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt fluff #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt leo #rottmnt raph #rise of the tmnt #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #tmnt headcanons #rottmnt headcanons

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dialovers-translations · 1 year

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS Para-Selene Vol.5 Sakamaki Laito Animate Tokuten CD

Original title: DIABOLIK LOVERS Para-Selene Vol. 5 逆巻ライトアニメイト各巻購入特典ドラ

Source: Diabolik Lovers Para-Selene Vol. 5 Animate Tokuten CD

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Hirakawa Daisuke

Translator’s note: Bowling master Laito kind of threw me for a loop, but it also makes sense? Like he strikes me as the type of guy who would be unexpected skilled at a bunch of random things. In general, I’ve been really enjoying these ‘date scenario’ CDs. They actually did a good job making every one of them unique and choosing fun locations for each boy. I know the chances of us getting another DL anime are really slim, but if they do decide to make one, I really hope it’s not a season 3 based on DF or LE but a bunch of OVAs instead based on the drama CDs.

“...What’s this? There’s quite a lot of people here despite it being so late at night. I guess bowling is pretty popular. I thought I’d be able to do all sorts of fun things with my Bitch-chan, such a shame! ーー Ah! Our lane is over here. Ah! Check out the monitor over there! It actually displays our names as ‘Laito’ and ‘Bitch’! I love your name. It really stands out amongst the others! I would have loved to be able to input ‘Bitch-chan’ instead, honestly. I felt pretty bummed when they told me that I could only input up to five characters. Right, Bitch-chan?”

You frown.

“...? You’ve been quiet this whole time. What’s wrong? Did you want me to add the ‘-chan’ as well?”

You shake your head.

“Then what’s the matter?”

You complain about him wanting to come here.

“Eeh~? Is it really that strange? Even I feel like playing a game of bowling every now and then. There’s no ulterior motive behind it!”

You squint your eyes.

“Oh dear. You’re still suspicious of me? ...Fine. I’ll fess up the truth. ーー We actually gave here today because I wanted to do you a favor.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“Mmh. We’re usually active at night, so most places where high schoolers like to hang out are closed by that hour, no? So we’re limited in the things we can do, right? Well, you might be fine with that, but you’re still a blossoming high school girl, so I figured that you might fantasize about the kind of cute dates depicted in shoujo manga and such. ーー I thought it wouldn’t hurt to go on a typical high schoolers’ date for once, so I started looking around for places which are open 24/7, which brings us here today. How’s that? Do you understand now?”

You nod.

“Nfu~ I’m glad. With that misunderstanding lifted...Now that we’re here anyway, why don’t we get started? I’m up first, aren’t I? Let me think...Which ball should I pick? ーー Ah. This one will do.”

*Thud*

“It has the same color as your hair. I’ll throw it as hard as I can, imagining its your head instead~”

You protest.

“Nfu~ Oh come on, you may say that, but I know you’re happy deep down! You love to get pushed around by me, don’t you? ...Ah! When it’s your turn, why don’t you pick a ball in the same color as my hair? I don’t dislike the idea of being at your mercy either~”

You refuse.

“Geez...You’d be able to get so much more of of life if you just enjoy it as one of many fetishes. You’re so easily embarrassed. Fine. ...I’ll throw the ball, okay?”

Laito faces towards the lane.

“Let me think...I’m supposed to throw it leaning down...or from up top?

You seem surprised he has never bowled before.

“Eh!? Bitch-chan...Do you really think I’ve come to this sorta place before? Today’s obviously my first bowling experience!”

*Rustle*

“But don’t worry! Experience isn’t what matters...It’s all about chemistry...!”

Laito throws his ball.

*Clatter clatter*

“Huh? I knocked all of them over. Is this what you’d call a ‘strike’?”

You seem very impressed.

“...Nfu~ I got praised~ Anyway, is this really so amazing?”

You nod.

“Heeh...I wonder if I am a natural at bowling? Control is key, so it might be the perfect game some someone who is very technique-minded such as myself. In that case, I’m quite curious what you are capable of, Bitch-chan~”

You frown.

“Now, now, no need to be so modest. Show me what you’re made of. Go give it a shot! ...Nfu~ I’m very much looking forward to this.”

You walk towards the lane.

“Break a leg, Bitch-chan~! Throw it with everything you’ve got!”

You throw the ball.

*Thud thud*

“Nfu~ Ah-ahー I guess the excitement ended up being her downfall. What a shame. ...They call this a ‘gutter’, don’t they? I can’t believe you didn’t even manage to knock over one of them. ...Ah, come on. One more try, no?”

*Thud*

You try once more.

*THUD*

“Ahー You really suck at this, don’t you?”

You seem disappointed.

“No need to be so sad. My strike might have been just a fluke. I’ll go next, so watch me, okay?”

Laito walks up to the lane again.

“...Hah!”

*CLATTER*

“Aah~ I guess it wasn’t just beginner’s luck! I might have a knack for bowling after all! ...In that case, Bitch-chan, why don’t you come over here with your ball?”

You pick up your ball and approach him.

“Okay! Let’s practice how to hold the ball!”

*Rustle*

“Geez, no need to be so surprised. We came here to treat you to a good time today, so I’ll teach you very gently~ Come on, hold the ball.”

*Rustle*

“Hmー That won’t do.”

*Rustle rustle*

“You need to stretch your arm a little more.”

You try to scoot away from him, asking why he is touching you.

“What are you saying? I’m fixing your posture! I think I proved earlier that my bowling skills far exceed yours, so don’t you think it’s in your best interest to take my advice?”

You frown.

“I mean, it’d be kind of difficult to tell you what to do without clinging to you like this, is it? I’m positive that it’d be so much easier to teach you good posture through direct touch!”

*Rustle*

“Come on, lean back against me and stand straight.”

*Rustle*

“Don’t move! You want to be able to throw the ball properly don’t you?”

You tell him to move away.

“How mean, telling me to back off! I’m only trying to show my good heart by teaching you! I mean, if you lose this duel against me, you’ll get punished, remember?”

You seem surprised by that.

“I mean, duh? Didn’t I tell you? All games have some kind of punishment game attached to it, don’t they? You have to expect those kind of things! By the way, now that you’ve already thrown once, you’re part of the game, so there’s no backing out~”

You ask him if he would punish you right here in public.

“Fufu~ Why would you ask that? ーー I get it. You’re curious about what this punishment would entail, aren’t you~? Were you perhaps hoping that I’d suck your blood~?”

You deny it.

“Nfu~ No point in trying to deny it~ I bet you imagined my fangs sinking deeply into your fair nape, didn’t you? Aah~ I suppose I have no other choice. That wasn’t the plan, but I’ll live up to your expectations and make the punishment something deliciously painful~ Please look forward to this punishment...which will turn both your body and soul to putty~”

You try to make a run for it.

*Rustle rustle*

“Ahaha~ Oh come on, hold up! I told you that there’s no way out, didn’t you? You better behave...or I’ll do it right here, right now.”

You immediately stop resisting.

“Nfu~ Good girl. Besides, there’s only a 50% chance that you’ll get punished, so just remember that you could always win and try to make the best out of it!”

You sigh in defeat.

“Well then, let’s continue your lesson. Now, where’s your spine?”

*Rustle*

“Nfu~ Found it~ Mm~

*Rustle rustle*

“What are you saying? I’m helping you straighten your back! By tracing my fingers across your spine like this...See? You pushed out your chest which improved your stance! Try to hold this proper posture, okay?”

You ask him if he knows what hte proper posture for bowling is.

“Eh? No idea! How am I supposed to know what is the ‘right posture’ for bowling when I’m still a newbie at the game myself.”

You ask him what he has been teaching you then.

“You’re just so terrible at this, I’ve just been giving you random points and then it was up to you whether or not you’d take my words for granted. ...Anyway, ahaha~ They’re really hard to miss when you’re standing looking straight ahead like that.”

You tilt your head to side.

“Over here. These bite marks on・your・neck~”

You squeak.

“They’re the proof of the love we share with each other every night~ It’s too bad you can’t really see them unless you move this close. I promise I’ll make them stand out even more by biting you nice and hard when we get back home, so rest assured~”

You complain.

“You’re adorable when you pretend to dislike something. However, no losing on purpose because you want to get bitten ,okay?”

You insist that you would never do that.

“I wonder~? You’re a naughty girl who seduces other by feigning discomfort. You want me to completely overpower you, run away with the victory and inflict pain upon you as a result, don’t you? And then you’d try to play innocent by saying ‘Oh I don’t actually want this, but it can’t be helped because I lost the game~', won’t you? ...Sure. Two can play that game. I like that sort of thing as well after all. I’ll make sure to slowly drive you into a corner...and then tease the living hell out・of・you~”

Your cheeks grow hot.

“Oh? What’s wrong? ...Nfu~ You’re flustered, aren’t you? Oh come, you are so shy~ ...Anyway, let’s get this game going! Try throwing the ball following my tips from earlier.”

You nod and throw the ball.

*CLATTER CLATTER*

“Wow~ You actually knocked them all over! I’m shocked!”

You rejoice.

“Nfu~ Congratulations, Bitch-chan. Judging from your sheer excitement, could it be that this is the first time you’ve ever hit a strike?”

You nod.

“Mmh, mmh~ I’m happy for you! In that case, why don’t we end on a positive note and wrap up the match right here? It’s obvious you’ll lose after all.”

You protest.

“I mean, even if continue to bowl one strike after the other now, you already threw a gutter once, so you have no chance at getting ahead of me.There’s no way I’d give away the win now.”

You shake your head.

“Ah~ We can keep going until I have a slip-up if you want, but in return, your punishment will get more and more severe, the longer the game lasts. I believe you’d be much better off admitting defeat right now and simply heading home with me.

I’m fine with either scenario. We’re here on a date today for you after all. You can choose whether you want to call it a day right now and quickly get your punishment, or if you’d rather have me tend to you thoroughly after I’ve messed with you a little longer.”

You call him out on being unreasonable.

“Nfu~ Exactly. I might be messed up. But you love this crazy guy, don’t you? In which case, you have no other choice but to play along with me and slowly become insane as well.”

You sigh.

“Fufu~ Since you sighed in defeat, does that mean you’ve made your choice?”

You choose to go home.

“Nfu~ Sure. As you wish. Well then...Shall we head home, Bitch-chan~? I’ll treat you to plenty of the good stuff which you love oh-so much~”

ーー THE END ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #laito sakamaki #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

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kaeyx · 9 months

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I just looove the idea of angel chuuya, so good and delligent until they met nun reader, innocent and devoted and naïve, making it so hard to resist, battling shame and moral as he imagines bending them over the altar and have them scream his name in pure bliss, to show them about love and pleasure, but the good, pure kind, the only one chuuya convinces himself he can give them.

Anon oh my god????? I might like this better than just plain old corruption holy shit

Chuuya who's never known temptation before, who's so pure and diligent (bonus him having a cute little superiority complex). And then he gets tasked to look over you because someone (Dazai)is targeting you. Or he just feels drawn to you, to your piety and your purity and your devotion. Going through your day with quiet, choreographed diligence, saying your prayers and meditating, helping those in need.

And that sincere admiration turns into a little crush! Poor Chuuya, he's never felt something like that. He can't possibly prevent it. And then that little crush turns into something more, an admiration, a want. He wants to crack you, he wants to know you, he wants to see you lose your composure out of simple animal curiosity. And there's this new feeling, this stirring in his groin like he's never felt before. This strange heat that sits heavy in his guts whenever he thinks about you, about your voice or your body. This one he recognises. This is lust.

He'd be horrified of course, ashamed of himself and his urges, trying desperately to bite back all those feelings. Chuuya backs off, tries to keep away from you. Or worse if Dazai is there, he can't. He can't leave you open to the demon's advances. But he fears those might not be the only advances you have to fight off.

Chuuya has a bit of a cloudy vision of sex, since he's never had to learn anything about it. He might have spied on humans doing it once or twice, but that's it. So all these urges are so new, he didn't even know they existed. When you bend over to pray and he can spy your body through your baggy clothes his heart skips a beat. When you stretch and yawn, coming back down with a satisfied sigh his cheeks heat up. He sees you begging for something, for happiness or forgiveness or kindness and desperately wishes those little whispers were directed at him. He wants to be the one to hear your pleas.

Chuuya just needs to lift up your habit, he needs to feel your tiny hands clutching his shoulders, he wants nothing more than to make your voice break on his name again and again even if it cost him his divinity. His cock aches when he thinks about it, thinks about your pretty face slack with pleasure, your hazy eyes looking up at the saints you've prayed to all your life as he takes you at last. But he can't relieve himself, he still has that shred of shame that prevents him from whining your name as he spills all over his fingers and his robes. He can only fantasize.

He'd convince himself this is the best option, of course. He doesn't want to ruin you, but surely there can be no purer sex than the one you'd have with an angel? Surely, surely it can't be bad, when the thought makes him feel so good. He'd be so gentle, he'd treat you so well, he'd make you feel divine. It can't possibly be wrong.

#chuuya.bsd #chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #angel!chuuya #ugh. new brainrot #hello 👀

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love-toxin · 2 years

Text

burn me down to ashes - steve harrington & billy hargrove

volume II

plot: shy, socially awkward little you, the resident nobody of Hawkins High, is caught between a rock and a hard place in the span of a day. the rock being Steve Harrington, the guy you've had a crush on forever and who just might like you back, and the hard place being Billy Hargrove--the guy who just can't seem to keep his eyes, or hands, off you.

cws: bullied!angelface, angel has low self-esteem/intrusive thoughts, 80s movie references, crushes, smoking, slight violence/roughousing, jealousy, drinking, angel makes friends, nicknames, angsty fluff but it goes up from here, non-canon character appearances, fem reader.

a/n: vol II coming soon! this is a longer fic i cut in half ♡

word count: 5.4k

You've never really thought there was anything wrong with you, at least not until you got into high school. The last four–five, now, since you had to repeat your last year–have been the most hellish years of your life.

You've been knocked around, had your books thrown in the fountain, your locker vandalized, your desk kicked by people walking by…every which way you could be tortured, you have. Even graduation served to be an opportunity for people to get their licks in, one of the girls that tortured you the most sticking her foot out when you went to walk the stage and tripping you in front of the whole school, resulting in a bellowing chorus of mocking laughter that you're certain you'll hear in your nightmares for the rest of your life.

But there's a life you've dreamed of, one you know you would never attain in this lifetime, but you fantasize about nonetheless. One where you're maybe not popular, or even liked, but one where you're at least protected. His name reads out in the scribbles at the margins of your notebook, and the smell of his cologne sticks in your mind and draws your thoughts to him whenever you pass by the scented section of the department store. Your protector, your saviour, at least in your mind–it's none other than Steve Harrington, the most popular guy in school and the one guy you know you would never have a chance with.

For one, he's widely adored–you wouldn't be able to work your way through all his fans if you tried, and most of them are far prettier, smarter, and more popular than you anyways. Two, Steve himself is objectively gorgeous, at least to you, and there's no way he would go for a…for someone like you, someone that looks or sounds or smells like you. Three, you don't even have friends, much less a relationship, so you really would have no idea what you were doing in the first place. Four, you can't even work up the courage to talk to him, or even look in his direction, even though you sat right next to each other all through chem class in your senior year and he asked to borrow your textbook on several occasions. And you now see him at Family Video at least once a week to rent a new movie. That's pretty much the extent of your interactions, and that's where the dream stops and real life slaps you in the face.

But it's on that day that you step into the store and hear excited chattering that you don't realize that might just change, Robin and Steve exchanging words and gestures that look like they're trying to agree on something.

"Welcome to Fa–oh, hey! You're just in time!" Robin waves to you as you walk in, dropping the corporate greeting the second her eyes meet yours. She's always been so nice to you, kind in a way you feel like you don't deserve, but it would be impossible to try and convince her otherwise so you simply go along with whatever she says. You're not really sure how else to be friends…if that's even what you are. Maybe, maybe not. It's a little difficult for you to figure out, even though you desperately want to call Robin your friend. She leans over the counter on her elbows as you walk up, and pats her hands on it as she bounces on the balls of her feet, clearly excited about something.

"You wanna go to a house party with me? Harrington here is chickening out last minute, and I really don't want to go alone."

"I'm not chickening out! I just don't want to hang out with a bunch of dickheads I knew in high school." Steve huffs, certainly because knowing them they've been arguing about it for a while before you stopped by, and he looks so good today, even though you say the same to yourself every time you see him. His hair is a little crazy from him running his hands through it, but it still looks good, fluffy, like every sway of his locks is intentionally beautiful and not accidental.

"I've never been to a house party before! I want the full, uninterrupted experience." You're not even thinking straight when you're distracted by him, and find your mouth running before you can catch it.

"Me neither, um…it sounds like fun, though. I'll go." You say rather meekly, some part of you wondering perversely if Robin's lips will stretch into a smirk as she reveals that she was just teasing, and how dumb do you have to be to think anyone would actually invite you to a party?

"Really? Sick, I don't feel so alone now!" She does a little victory dance, celebrating her triumph with a few fist pumps and the sound of her shoes clacking against the linoleum behind the counter. Safe. Everything is safe, now, you're sure, and you take a deep breath to try and steady your thumping heart.

"Well…okay, if you're both going, I'll come with you." Steve tightens his arms, still crossed over that broad chest that you've only ever seen in its full glory during those basketball games you've snuck out of class to go watch.

"Wow! Changing your mind on a dime just cause Buttercup is coming–I feel like chopped liver, seriously!" She's joking, but it still flusters you. "Buttercup" is one of the few nicknames they've dubbed you with, on account of how many times you've rented out The Princess Bride since they've started working there. As far as you know you're their most frequent customer, so it's somewhat of a game for them to find movies you haven't seen that you might like–and to be brutally honest, it's about the fullest extent of any friendship you have. "Alright, alright, Stevie, you can come keep us safe. But don't you dare be a buzzkill!"

Robin turns back to you after prodding Steve in the chest, and her eyes are brighter than they were before. Even if the realization of what you just agreed to is only hitting you now, and the anxiety is slowly starting to creep in, the fact that you made her so happy by saying yes is all that's keeping you on your feet right now.

"Just come by after we close and we'll drive you there, okay?" You nod in agreement, and that's when Robin climbs up and slides herself across the counter, dropping down beside you on the other side to wave you over to the rows of shelved movies. "Now, what movie are we going with this week? Romcom, horror?"

You place the VHS on the counter, just as pristine as when you picked it up. The Breakfast Club is always a classic for you, you'd watched it a couple times over the week–you always tend to see yourself in Ally, while you see so much of Steve in Andrew, which might be why you've watched it so many times with your pillow hugged to your chest, your eyes glued to the screen. Somehow, though, the sight of John parading around the library tables always stirs something within you, something that reminds you of someone you know, but can't put your finger on.

Either way, you shake the thought from your head as you follow Robin down the aisles, her steps more of a skip as she saunters towards the newer tapes on the New Release rack. She picks up one after the other and chitters on about each one, which ones she thinks are bogus and which ones are diamonds in the rough–but your gaze keeps drifting back to Steve at the counter, his hips pressed against it as he leans back and steadies himself with those smooth, toned biceps, and fiddles with the tape you dropped off…and you have to force yourself to look away, to not meet his eyes when you feel them turn towards you, and focus back on your friend as your mind runs wild with thoughts about tonight.

When the time comes, it's very clear when you move through the front door that you don't belong here.

Hours after picking up your newest movie-The Neverending Story–you're trailing behind Steve and Robin with a new dress you picked out weeks ago and a bit of makeup smeared awkwardly over your eyes. You've never been sure how to do it, but Robin made a point of commenting on how cute you look when you slid into the backseat of Steve's car, so it at least calmed you down a little bit before you got there.

Bodies are packed in everywhere, laughing, talking, drinking. Further into the house you spot a living room down the hall, where the music is loudest and people are dancing so close together they almost look like one full unit. People are stumbling to and from each room with solo cups filled with coloured drinks, most of them drunk already–and you find yourself trying to stick close to Robin, except that she and Steve are hurrying down the hall to go talk to someone they know, and beckoning you after them. There's no going back now, especially since you'll have to walk home if you try to leave alone. And after what happened last time you did so, you just have to swallow the lump in your throat and start putting one foot in front of the other.

You move stiffly down the hallway they had weaved through, people leaning against the walls and moving in groups with their friends to get more drinks or migrate towards the dancing area. Alone, you feel like too many unfamiliar eyes are drawn towards you, you know you must stick out like a sore thumb–but there's one face you recognize, and it immediately makes you regret ever choosing this hallway to work your way down.

Billy Hargrove leans against the wall by his arm, jacket open to reveal a white wifebeater and a packed chest that must be an absolute nightmare to face in a fight, many of which you know he's been in. He's got such a reputation, despite not being in Hawkins for too long, and he was even present at the infamous Starcourt Mall fire–that in itself is evident by the burn scars you can see peeking out from the sides of his leather jacket. Some girl is flirting with him, or trying to, because he looks like he's not paying much attention. You don't even realize it's the girl that tripped you at graduation until you get close enough to sidle past them, but that's unfortunately close enough for Billy to lock eyes with you and stand up off the wall.

"Hey, pretty girl. I don't think we've been introduced." He turns completely towards you, fully engaged, and holds out a hand to you with half-lidded eyes. Thinking about it for more than a few seconds, which is about how long it takes for you to realize that he's actually talking to you, the thought that he must be drunk crosses your mind and your shoulders tense a little bit. He frightens you, and you know he has a temper even at the best of times–you don't even want to know what he might say or do if you piss him off. So you shut your mouth and tremble as you place your hand delicately into his, hoping nothing terrible comes out of the conversation, especially when the girl's eyes are burning a glare into you. Vanessa, you're sure her name is, even though you've tried so hard to forget it. "Billy. You can call me whatever you want, though."

"Hi…uh, I think we've met before." He squeezes your hand, not hard, just an inkling of pressure. The desire to reach out and grab those words to shove them back into your mouth is so strong, but you can't, and your chest tightens so much you might just collapse right then and there. But Billy, on the contrary to what you think he might do, just smiles enough that you can see a glimpse of those pearly teeth past his plush lips.

"I can't believe that," He winks, his thumb rubbing the the heel of your hand before he finally lets it go. Is he…is this what flirting really is? It feels like it's too much like the movies, but you've really got no frame of reference since you have no experience yourself, so you truly have no idea. Including whether he's being facetious or not. "I would've remembered a gorgeous girl like you. Or, more like, I wouldn't have forgotten you. No matter how hard I tried."

Now you're stuck. Dreaded small talk. You can't believe he's doing anything but trying to fuck with you, especially with Vanessa standing right next to both of you, so that's just how you end up thinking about it. But you would be such a liar if you thought his comments didn't raise a heat to your face that must be obvious even under your touch of makeup.

"Um…I, uh…we were…calculus partners.." You're trying to get it all out fast so you can try to catch up to Steve and Robin again, but the words just strangle themselves when they leave your mouth, much like any time you try to speak to someone you're not comfortable with.

"No shit," He breathes. "I do recognize you." He says it in a way that feels more sincere than anything else he's said leading up to this. "You've really changed since then. Really…filled out that figure. Or maybe this is the first time I'm seeing you in clothes like that. You look great."

Billy's eyes roam unapologetically, drinking you in from feet to forehead and every spot in between. It doesn't feel right to be looked at in such a way, it feels perverse–not like how a partner or a love interest would do it, but more like the creepy older men that try to pick you up when you're walking home from work. Even though Billy is far from that, and he's actually a little nicer than you thought he was, it just feels wrong for you to be looked at that way. Because you're not pretty, and you're not special. You're not the type of person that people look at like they want to see you naked, and treasure you while they do so. Not like how Billy's looking at you now, until something seems to strike him that makes him finally pipe up.

"Wasn't that the class that the ginger kid pulled your hair in?" He's right, and it couldn't be more humiliating for him to remember that above all else. Sam Dunner had grabbed your ponytail in third period calculus and yanked it hard, hard enough to sting, and earned himself a cacophony of laughter when you shrieked that you felt, at the time, would be the soundtrack to your entire life. Billy had been out that day, maybe sick, maybe late–but regardless, he hadn't been there to say a word and you had always figured he wouldn't. Up until now, at least, when you nod and mumble a quiet "Yes", and his brow furrows.

"That reminds me, actually." Billy turns to the girl he's been ignoring up until now, her face lighting up when he finally looks down at her. You're surprised she's kept quiet up until now.

"Vanessa, weren't you the one that tripped this nice girl at graduation?" What he says, and the way he says it, renders you completely shocked. You could never imagine talking to someone like her like he just did, because you know she would chew you up and spit you back out for all her friends to laugh at. But evidently Billy is a lot different, because she starts visibly floundering with a stutter when he calls her out right in the open.

"Y-Yeah, so? It was a joke. It was just…in good fun." She recovers quickly if nothing else, and says it with smug venom flicking off her tongue, and you just want to disappear so that she never looks at you with that expression again.

"I think you owe her an apology, actually." He leans into her ear and says it so quietly, almost gently, that your eyes widen as you wonder whether you actually heard that right.

"Are you serious? It was a joke, it's not my fault she got all upset."

"I'm dead fucking serious. Now, why don't you apologize, before I get really pissed off." The tension you feel between them would break a butcher's knife.

"O-Okay! I'm sorry, like…I'm sorry. Jesus." She mutters that last part under her breath.

"That was pathetic, but whatever. Get out of my face." She huffs in frustration but does as he says, pushing past you and knocking shoulders in a way that's definitely intentional–but for you, it's so much of the norm that it doesn't even really faze you. You also don't catch the harsh glare he shoots at the back of her head either, since it disappears as soon as you turn to look at him again and he's pulling out a cigarette from a pack with his teeth.

"You wanna puff, sweetheart?" He reaches into the pocket of his jacket to produce a lighter, but you're quick to shake your head as he cups a hand around the end and lights it up.

"N-No, I have to…get back to my friends. Um, thank you."

"Not a problem, princess. Anyone else gives you problems, you just come to me, mkay?" He winks at you over his burning cigarette, enthused over the way you trip over your words in front of him. You just nod, pseudo-politely, and move to take a step away.

"That's my girl." He breathes out a puff of smoke as he says it, eyes following you until you've moved into the main living room and presumably out of sight. It's a little dizzying when you finally get there, the familiar thumping beat of Love Shack resonating through the walls as you shuffle into what feels like a whole other world.

"Buttercup! Thought we lost you back there." Your one and only friend's voice rises above the crowd as she spots you, and she strolls over to rescue you from the rest of the party. Robin's smile lighting up when she takes hold of your hand soothes you at once, and you breathe deeply as she pulls you along to a more open area of the house where Steve and two other people are standing and chatting.

"Oh, hi! Is this your new friend?" Once she turns to look at you, you recognize both her and the guy standing next to her immediately. The brunette is Nancy Wheeler, one of the most popular girls when you were in school besides being Steve's ex-girlfriend. And standing next to her–

"I know her," Jonathan Byers cuts in, a soft smile tweaking his lips as he waves in your direction. "She and I were in gym together freshman year."

It does come as a surprise that he remembers, but then again, if anyone would, it would be Jonathan Byers. You two were famously bad in your class, constantly being overlooked by the more athletic students and criticized for your pathetic performance in any and all sports by the coach. But your saving grace had been that you were terrible together, even though you were both shy and socially awkward freshmen who could barely talk to each other, much less anyone else. He's the only other one that was really reaching the same level of an outcast as you in school, aside from the infamous Eddie Munson, whom you've only spoken to a handful of times when you've seen him at Family Video but has been one of the few to treat you with familiarity and kindness….two things you rarely find with people your age.

"Really? I feel like I should remember you…did we have any-?"

"No, uh, no we didn't." You don't have the heart to tell her you sat behind her in biology for two years straight, because she seems like a nice girl and you know it'll just make her feel bad and turn the conversation into an awkward mess. So it's easier just to avoid it. And it's already difficult for you to imagine her and Steve…it just hurts, even though it shouldn't. If they didn't last, what chance would you ever have?

"Aw, well, it's really nice to meet you! Steve's told me so much about you, so has Robin. You're a movie buff, huh?"

"I-I…yeah, I like movies."

She's so pretty that it's honestly kind of intimidating, not to mention you're stood in the same circle as not just four other people, but four very cool and charismatic people. You've got no chance, especially with Steve being one of those four, and so you know you just want to say as little as possible to minimize the inevitable embarrassment. But it soon becomes very apparent that you're just destined to be the center of attention.

"Like? She's seen like, every movie in existence." Robin backs you up, maybe intentionally or not, and the way she gushes about you makes you want to hide…but not in the bad way. It's flattering, genuinely flattering. Not something you're all that used to, at all. "She just dropped off Breakfast Club today. Classic."

"Ooh! Who's your favourite?" Nancy looks back at you, sincerity in her eyes. She really is so pretty.

"U-Um…An..Andrew…I like Andrew." That's not entirely a lie, but it also serves as a convenient enough answer to avoid drawing suspicion.

"I, uh, I like Ally." Steve pipes up from nowhere, shoulders shifting as he readjusts his jacket.

"I'm surprised you're not a Molly Ringwald fan, Steve." Jonathan pipes up, and Steve shakes his head with a laugh, but his eyes stick to yours and they don't flicker away this time. And he nibbles his lower lip between his teeth, bites down–oh, he bites down, and suddenly nothing that anyone else says makes it to your ears as you stop and stare. A warm feeling stirs within you, like the words you want to say are bubbling up to your throat–

"C'mon, let's dance! I love this song!" But before they have a chance to come out, Robin's tugging you by the hand over to the dance floor, leaving the other three looking on at the two dorks who have no idea how to function at a party. Robin pulls you to the center of the crowd and giggles as you shyly stick close to her, allowing her to take your other hand too and move them around as the two of you bounce along to the rhythm. You don't really know what you're doing, and neither does she, but the more you realize that nobody is really looking aside from the two of you at each other, it slowly becomes easier and easier to just let the beat move you and a smile to work its way on to your face as Robin twirls you around and laughs free-spiritedly. Song after song comes and goes, you occasionally get a glimpse of Steve watching you through the throng of people–and he looks like he's smiling. Some small, selfishly hopeful part of you prays he's smiling at you.

When you finally tear your eyes away and turn back, Robin's gone. Glancing around to try and find her, you only then distantly remember her speaking in your ear just loud enough over the music that she was gonna go get a drink, but you should've been paying more attention–without her around, you feel small, and scared again. Someone bumps you hard with their elbow and you squeak at the pain in your side, someone else cursing at you for bumping into them in the process, and once you have a chance after that you're slipping through the crowd to get out of the most concentrated area of people. And when you do, you still don't see her, not over by the kitchen or out by the front door.

You can't spot Robin over the crowd you just wormed your way out of, can't really see anyone with so many people in one place. Somebody jostles you as they shove past, and in the heat of the moment, the only option you have is the guy standing just a few feet away, who just pushed his way past a few people in his way–the one you've been too mortified to try and talk to one on one since you were fourteen years old.

"Steve?"

"What's up?" He's strangely alert, focused completely on you like nothing else about the party exists.

"I'm gonna walk home, I…I just need to go home."

"Already? Are you alright?" It's a little shocking to hear that, and to see how concern spells out across his pretty features as he reaches to touch your arm–your arm.

"I'm…I-I'm fine, I just…it's a little too much for me. I don't.." You can't get the words out. I don't belong here. They feel too painful to say in front of someone you admire so much, and you pull away from his touch despite wanting it so badly.

"Aw…okay, wait by the back door, I'll go tell Robin and I'll drive you home."

"It's fine. I'll walk." You're saying it as you're already heading towards the open back door, one that's sliding glass that leads out to the grassy backyard, because you'd much rather dart around the side of the house than fight your way back through to the front door. Plus, you seriously need a breath of fresh air right now. You've got no idea that he's hurrying after you, and has a full view of what's waiting for you when you get out the door.

The second you step out into the cool, airy night, the sloshing shhhh sound of running water hits your ears–and then it hits the rest of you, a spray of freezing cold water crashing into your whole body and catching you completely off guard. The grass beneath you is slippery, and you stumble back and hit the ground hard on your spine, and they're still spraying you with what feels like a fire hose of water with a cackling symphony of laughter until Steve's voice rises above the crowd.

"Hey! Knock that shit off!"

The tidal wave stops and leaves you shaking only when the garden hose drops from your ex-classmate's hands, and that's because Steve's grabbed hold of it and ripped it from his grasp before shoving him, his face so red with anger like you've never seen before. But it doesn't stop the laughing of the crowd gathered around, all of them clearly having waited for the perfect victim to come out to pull their little prank–and each and every face you recognize as someone who at one point tortured you in school.

It takes you one try, then another to get up, still shaky and cold from the water and trying not to slip on the wet grass–but when you do get to your feet you stumble out of the lit area of the yard and around the side of the house, tears welling in your eyes as they laugh even louder and jeer at you with mocking insults that make the sting of humiliation burn even harder. You just want to run as far away as you can, away from the house, the people, from Steve–he must think you're such an idiot–but you hit another wall, although this one catches you in two strong arms before you fall again.

"Hey–princess? Why are you soaked?"

It's the last person you want to see right now, the most likely guy in the entirety of Hawkins to mock you for your current state. But Billy's got confusion and concern written all over his face even so, his voice laced with something a little more…strained.

"Tell me what happened." The cigarette he must have come out to smoke dangles haphazardly from his lips, but he lets it fall and mindlessly grinds it into the dirt when he actually notices it does. Otherwise, his eyes are completely centered on yours.

"I wanna go home," You sniffle.

"Are you crying?" He pulls you into his arms, uncaring as to the fact that you're drenched and freezing. He seems more attentive towards warming you up. And he is warm.

"Who did this to you?"

"I d-dunno his name…"

"Describe him. Where is he?" You point weakly towards the back of the house, still sniveling like a crying baby. You can hear a voice in your head telling you to suck it up, that you're just trying to get attention. That you deserved that.

"Wait here." Whatever words you want to say can't squeeze around the lump in your throat. You just turn your eyes down as Billy steps around you, gait heavy and purposeful as he marches towards the back and collides with someone, yet doesn't stop.

"Watch it, man–hey! There you are," Steve's voice reaches you, but doesn't, at the same time. You don't even turn to look, just stand there staring at the grass and feeling the tears fall and hit the ground as he hurries over and moves in front of you to grip your shoulders.

"Oh, god, honey, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You brusquely wipe the tears away with your sleeve, and soon you have your arm pinned to your chest as Steve tugs you into his arms and squeezes you so tight against his shoulder.

"Shit, you're cold–come on, let's go inside and warm you up-"

"No!" You push against his chest, and he leans back but doesn't let go, hands loosely holding you still. Your voice is strong but your touch is weak, at least too weak to get away from him. "I don't want to, Steve! I don't want them to laugh at me! I'm fucking sick of it!"

He's struck speechless. You've ruined it all, just like always. Just like you and everyone else in the world knew you would. Stupid, you're so goddamn stupid.

"Then…Then let's not go through the house." He pulls you closer to the side of the house, near the edge of the roof–a sturdy, box-shaped pressure meter serves as the perfect thing for him to step up on, and when he pulls you up with him he clasps his hands together once he's close enough the the edge of the roof jutting out from the first floor. "Here, step on my hands. Climb up–but be careful!"

You don't have the energy to argue with him. And you don't want to subject yourself to anyone else seeing your tears, since you're sure that more of your bullies will be lying in wait near the front of the house to hurt you even worse. But sometimes, you hate how stubborn Steve can be, even as he's lifting you up to climb on to the roof and out of the way of more danger. Once you're kneeling on the tiles, he hauls himself up alongside you with a few groans of effort, before carefully moving towards the window that overlooks the rooftop and yanking it up and open. He ushers you to climb inside and drops inside after you, and once it's closed, you find yourself standing in some stranger's bedroom.

"Steve, we shouldn't be-" He hurries past you and turns his head to raise a finger to his lips, his hand shooting out to twist the lock to the bedroom door. And to make doubly sure that you won't be encroached on, he takes the chair sitting at the desk against the wall and props it underneath the door handle, ensuring that it's properly snug before he sighs in relief.

And now, against all odds, you're standing in a stranger's bedroom at a house party with Steve Harrington. Soaking wet, cold, and cheeks still tearstained from your outburst, wondering what in the world is going to come next–aside from more heartbreak.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #harringrove x reader #st 4 #stranger things #ellie writes #5k

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