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rafesfavgirl · 7 months ago

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with a broken heart — r. cameron

part 1. something a little more lighthearted to make up for breaking y'alls hearts :)

series: every few lifetimes

❝ i was grinning like i'm winning i was hitting my marks 'cause i can do it with a broken heart ❞

pairing: ex-bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: after getting your heart broken, you pack your bags and leave the obx, only to come face to face with rafe again, eight years later.

words: 2.4k+

warnings: rafe and reader are aged up (26/27), old flames, FLUFF

"now remember, this client's a big prospect," your boss says as you follow him out of the office car and into the building you were scoping out today. "i guarantee if you can close this deal, you'll be well on your way to becoming the next junior partner."

"hank, are you serious?" you stop in your tracks and he looks at you.

when you first left the outer banks for new york, you went to nyu without a clue on what you wanted to do with the rest of your life. somewhere along the way, you graduated magna cum laude and pursued law school at columbia. your first year, hank took you on as an intern, and by the time you graduated, you had a job lined up for you at one of the biggest real estate agencies in the world. and though you knew how well you did your job, becoming junior partner as a second-year associate was way beyond where you thought you'd be—it was nothing short of a dream come true.

"don't think what you've done for this company has been lost on me, y/n," he tells you. "you're an asset. i knew it since that first summer i took you on as an intern."

a smile comes across your lips. "well, i can't disappoint," you say. "let's close this fucking deal."

"that's what i like to hear, come on," he continues leading you through the building, until the two of you reached a tall guy with a buzzcut wearing a navy blue suit scoping out the place.

"mr. cameron," you don't miss the familiar name when you and your boss stop behind him, your breath hitching when the guy turns around to greet you both. "this is-"

"y/n," your name rolls off rafe's tongue the same way it always did, your heart beating so hard you feared it'd jump out of your chest.

hank's eyes shift between the two of you, as he shakes rafe's hand. "you two know each other?"

"yeah," rafe nods, his eyes set on you—he couldn't believe that you were actually standing in front of him. a part of him thought that when you left the obx he'd never see you again. "we uh— we went to high school together."

"well that's wonderful," hank smiles. "no need for the awkward introduction then."

except— it was awkward. you didn't just go to high school together. you fell in love in high school. and two months before you chose to go to nyu, rafe broke your heart.

"y/n here will be the one walking you through the contract, and hopefully setting you up with one of our best architects," hank explains to him, while you continue trying to process the fact that he was actually here.

what were the odds that he was the client you needed to win over in order to make junior partner?

—

"so, does that all sound good to you?" you finish going over the contract for the building and look at rafe.

the two of you hovered over a table in the empty space that you'd spread out all the documents on.

"yeah, y/n, it all sounds great." the smile he throws your way makes your stomach turn in the worst way—making you realize that the piece of your heart that never stopped beating for him still existed. "where do i sign?"

"uh— right here," you pick up your pen to draw x's on all the lines he had to sign on, before holding it out to him.

he takes it from you, and you watch as he leans over to sign on each and everyone of them, your eyes trailing over how well his suit fit him.

he must hit the gym at least four times a week, you thought. he's grown quite a bit since you last saw him.

"there you go," rafe hands the pen back out to you, and you take it from him with a smile.

"thank you," you say. "you won't regret it."

"oh, i know," he nods, eyes scanning over your face. "i'd never regret anything that involves you."

you feel the heat rise on your cheeks, but you keep it professional, gathering the files on the table back into your folder. "well then, i'll leave you with the contacts of our architects and if you have any further questions, you can reach out to hank or any of the other executives."

"yeah, okay," he replies, hiding his disappointment in the fact that you didn't tell him to contact you with any questions he may have.

"it was a pleasure doing business with you, mr. cameron," you hold out a hand to him for a handshake and he stares at it for a second, before reluctantly placing his hand in yours.

"it sure was," he smiles. "but you know you can just call me rafe, don't you?"

"this is how i address all my clients," you tell him. "it's just the professional thing to do."

"yeah, yeah, i get it," he nods. "guess i'm just not used to it coming from you."

you crack a smile at his somewhat nervous stance—you weren't used to seeing him this way. "it was nice to see you again, rafe. good luck with everything."

"yeah," he grins. "you too."

you turn to walk away, while rafe stays back, scratching the back of his head in contemplation before calling out to you. "hey y/n?"

"yeah?" you ask, stopping to look at him again.

"you got any plans tonight?"

"rafe, i-"

"oh, come on," he cuts you off, slowly closing the distance between you two. "there's no reason we can't be friends, right?"

wrong—there were many reasons. one being that you spent years piecing yourself back together after he decided to give up on you.

"let's catch up," he persists, his blue eyes locking with yours. "get a drink with me tonight."

despite your head screaming no, you agree. "one drink," you say, causing a smile to spread across his face. "ten o'clock. meet me at the bar on fifth."

—

the second you walk into the bar, rafe rises from his stool at the counter and waves you over. he had gotten there 30 minutes early to make sure you weren't left waiting for him—you'd done enough of that.

"hey," he seems nervous when you reach him, wiping his hands on his slacks before reluctantly wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

you resist the urge to giggle—it was kinda entertaining to see this six-foot-two tall man get nervous around you—and briefly return his hug.

"have you been here long?" you ask, taking off your jacket and taking a seat in the empty stool beside him.

"nah, just about five minutes or so," he lies, shrugging and giving you a lopsided smile, as the bartender walks up to greet you both.

"anything i can get you?" she asks, eyes lingering on rafe for a little longer than you.

"just a glass of whiskey for me," rafe tells her. "neat."

"and i'll just have a glass of pinot noir," you say, when the girl turns to look at you. "thank you."

"and you can just put it on this," rafe reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, and you cut in. "rafe, you don't have to-"

"nonsense," he shakes his head at you and slides his black amex across to the bartender. "i invited you out. it's on me."

the bartender picks up his card, and gives him a smile. "rafe cameron. i'll remember that."

subtly, rafe rolls his eyes and you hold back a snicker. "please don't."

the bartender huffs as her eyes shifts between the two of you, but walks away without another word to get your drinks and charge rafe's card.

you kink a brow at him. "you get bartenders flirting with you a lot?"

"i guess it happens every now and then," he shrugs.

"it's definitely the buzz," you tell him, as a different bartender brings over your drinks and hands rafe back his card.

"thank you," he briefly acknowledges him, before turning his attention back on you, an amused smile on his face. "you think?"

"yeah," you nod, bringing your wine glass up to take a sip. "it makes you look older— more mature. it suits you."

he cracks a smile, a small chuckle slipping out from between his lips. "and being a lawyer suits you."

"you really think so?"

"yeah," he nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. "you looked so cute all dressed up in your little suit," those words make the heat rise on your cheeks, and you hide it with your wine glass. "i've never seen you more in your element. what made you choose law?"

"well…" you trail off, wondering whether or not you should tell him the truth. oh, fuck it. "after we broke up, i found out got into nyu. i was so… mad and hurt over you ending it that i packed my bags and i left, without looking back. during the summers, i stayed here and worked internships with the school just so i'd have an excuse not to go home."

he listened intently, a look of indifference falling across his features. a part of him was hurt at hearing that he'd broken your heart so badly you felt the need to leave, but the other part was proud. you really did that. figured your shit out and made a life for yourself—just like he always knew you would.

"after my second year, i worked an internship with a property management company in brooklyn. we scoped out places all around the city, and i don't know… i kinda just fell in love with it. seeing how happy people got when we'd found them the right apartment or the right space for them to start their business just made me feel really good. so i declared real estate as my major junior year and decided on law school," you continued.

"doll, that's amazing," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "which law school did you go to?"

"columbia," you reply, his eyes only widening in amazement. no words could describe the amount of pride in his chest right now. "but enough about me. what about you?"

"oh— uh…" he started and set his whiskey down on the bar. "after you left, i went to rehab. went in and out of that place for about two or three years… i mean, you knew how bad it was— wasn't easy."

you frown upon hearing his struggles with rehab and relapsing, but nod along as he continues.

"been clean for about four years now though," he shrugs, as if it wasn't some big accomplishment.

"rafe, that's amazing," you tell him, setting your glass down on the bar. "good for you."

"i had to," he nodded. "not only for me, but for dad, too. he was starting to talk business and expanding the company, and i just… i couldn't let him down. especially not after i let you down."

you glance down, no longer being able to meet his eyes. you knew that your past together had to come up at one point, you just weren't ready for it. mainly because even after all this time, there was still that little piece of your heart that never stopped belonging to him. it would always be his. "rafe…"

"i hope i'm not being too forward when i ask you this but…" his hand reaches out to touch yours, and you look up at him. "are you seeing anyone?"

"no, i'm not," you shake your head. "after we broke up, i didn't really date much. and even when i did, nothing ever really stuck."

that was enough to have a smile crack across his his, eyes brighter than you'd seen them in a really long time. "guess that makes two of us."

"guess so," you shrug, thoughts running through your mind a hundred times a minute as you try to find a way to change the subject. you weren't ready for where this conversation was about to go. at least, not yet. "but, uh— tell me about cameron development, how's that going?"

he chuckles at your eagerness to change the subject, as you sipped on your wine, but goes with it. he'd break you down again. eventually.

—

after finishing your drinks at the bar, rafe offered to walk you home since your apartment was only about a block or two away, assuring you that he'd just get a cab back to his hotel afterward.

and while a part of you screamed at you to say no, that little piece of your heart that still beat for him won over, and you agreed.

"well, this is me," you say, stopping in front of your apartment complex and looking at him. "it was really nice to see you, rafe."

"so that's it?" he asks, catching you off guard. "this just ends here?"

he takes a step towards you, making your heart pitter-patter, as his eyes scanned your face.

"rafe-"

"don't you ever wonder…" he cuts you off, his gaze lingering on your lips for just a moment before his eyes shifted to meet yours. "what we could've been? what we could be?"

"i-"

"i know i fucked shit up with you, a'ight?" he said, hand coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

the gesture threatens to make your eyes flutter close at the feeling of his familiar touch, but you keep your composure.

"i was young and i was stupid, and i thought you deserved better," he continued. "but y/n, there isn't a day that has gone by in the last eight years that you haven't crossed my mind. i think about you all the time, just hoping for the day you'd finally come back to the banks."

your breath hitches at his confession, that tiny piece of your heart that held onto him, growing three sizes.

"i know i don't deserve a second chance, i know that," he told you. "but i'm not the guy i was back in high school. i'm clean now, and i've turned my life around. i can be that guy for you now. the one you needed me to be all those years ago."

"okay," you whisper.

"what?" he musn't have heard you right.

"i'd be lying to myself if i said i haven't thought about you either, rafe," you say.

a small chuckle falls from his lips, which spread into a smile. "seriously?"

you nod. "come pick me up at seven tomorrow. let's give it a chance."

part 3 coming soon!!

i'm rooting for them tbh

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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#rafe cameron #rafe #obx #rafe obx #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe fluff #cute rafe #obx fic

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d6volution · 6 months ago

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I don't know if this has been done yet but...can I request Yandere!Jax f_cking the reader into submission?! With like.. possession and obsessive behaviors? I don't normally ask for stuff like this so feel free to ignore, if it doesn't tickle your fancy UwU

I'm debating on making this into a little yandere!jax series hmm...

anyways enjoy!

tags: afab!reader x jax , choking, light oral, rough sex, possessive jax, cream pie.

Jax's eye twitched.

He was getting fed up with you, ever since you arrived here you've been acting like you run the damn place. That was his job.

Being stuck on his boat with you and the others wasn't making this ANY better. And it wasn't a very big boat, just a small speed boat big enough to fit everyone. Just barely.

For context, Caine sent you all off on another adventure, find the treasure before these nasty pirates do and blah blah blah whatever.

"Just hand over the map wouldja?" Jax extended his hand, still overly accustomed to getting his way.

"Yeah, and who put you in charge anyways little bunny??" You rolled up the map and poked the side of his head with it a few times before he rolled his eyes and gripped your arm, yanking you towards him.

"Watch it, doll face. Oh, and don't go running ta' Caine when your hand goes missin." He smirked and you jerked away from him.

"Wh.. Whatever just let me find our way to this stupid treasure so we can get out of here!"

Jax raised his hands in his defense, "Jeez when did women become so hostile, so much for docile and loving.."

"Jax I swear to god I'll shove your ass off this boat and make you swim back!"

"Oh yeah? Do it, .. I dare you." He stood up , making the boat rock a little and you followed suit. Gritting your teeth at his boldness.

Unfortunately your height made you look less intimidating, only reaching just beneath his shoulders.

"I'm going to wipe that stupid grin off of your face!" You basically tackled him and ... well, in the end you both fell over board.

Flash forward a few moments later and you both were soaked, sitting with your arms crossed like children as pomni and ragatha took over the map and guiding the boat.

"I hope you know your washing my clothes when we get back, toots."

You scoffed, "In your dreams."

The adventure wrapped up nicely, but you and Jax both opted out of the dinner to instead go dry yourselves off.

There was one problem though.. Jax passed his room and continued to follow you to yours.

"Just what do you think your doing?"

"You thought I was jokin' these clothes need quite the washing. You can't expect me to do it myself can ya?" He smirked, watching your face ball up as he belittled you right to your face.

"Buzz off, Jax I'm not doing your damn laundry."

You tried to rush into your room and slam the door but his foot caught it before you could, he pushed the door open without any regards to your safety causing the door to fly wide and open and you to fall onto your ass.

"Jax, you assh—" You looked up , still frazzled from falling, and came almost face to face with his crotch. He was still wet. Thus, his clothes were clinging to the large imprint in between his legs.

"See something ya like motor mouth?" He grinned and squats in front of you, causing you to hurry and scurry backward.

Your face was on fire.

"N.. No, just— would you help me up and get some dry clothes on!?"

"You're one to talk. it looks like your body doesn't like it when you lie to me." He rested his cheek on his palm, head tilting as he stared at your chest. Unfortunately, your clothes were sticking to your skin , and your nipples stiffened against the fabric, making it all too obvious that you were having more than innocent thoughts about him right now.

"Th.. That doesn't mean anything! I'm obviously cold!"

"Uh huh, keep telling yourself that.. what's the deal anyways, scared I'll show you the time of your life?"

You laughed obnoxiously loud, "Yeah, I'd like to see you try!" Oh, that probably sounded like an open invitation, didn't it— "Ah..!" Suddenly, you were falling backward, but you caught yourself by your elbows.

He was yanking your pants off, which wasn't easy considering that they were still very wet, your eyes darted from your pants to his crotch again, which was growing in size. You swallowed.

"W.. Wait, wait you prick!" You tried to sound more intimidating but it sounded like a helpless plea.

He sighed, "What now? You aren't chickening out, are ya?" He hoped not , he couldn't lose this chance now. This was just too good.. seeing you like this all scared and nervous it was doing something to him.

"O.. Of course not, I can do it myself.." He hummed in amusement, watching you with that shit eating grin.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck, what had you gotten yourself into? Even back in the human world, you only had sex like.. twice! And that was almost a year ago. But there was no way in hell you were telling him that.

You finally got the damn pants, .. and underwear off, still keeping your knees locked together.

"Good girl, so you can play nice." He grinned , your expression and sputtering made it clear that you were caught off guard by his praise. Too bad he doesn't plan on being nice himself from here on out.

He yanked you by your hips and immediately maneuvered your legs apart, he dove face first in between your legs and started lapping at your cunt without warning. His tongue was rough, long and warm.

The tip of his tongue nudged at your entrance. He was drunk on your taste already. Hell, if he'd give this up to anyone else.

You scrambled, but he was easily overpowering you, "J.. Jax, you.. bastard s.. staa..." You whined and tried to push his head away.

Clearly irritated he sat up and grabbed both your hands within his much larger ones, "Quit movin' or ill just fuck you without any prep, alright sweetheart?"

You stiffened up, fuck you can't let him win again. You puffed out your chest, which earned another grin from him. "S.. So what? I can take it, you think .. you think I'm scared or something?" You tried to challenge him, wondering if he'd call your bluff.

"Oh? Fine by me." He started to remove his overalls. Your heart was racing , breathe caught in your throat as his thick shaft flopped free from its confines, he was already lining it up with your cunt. "J.. Just do it! You scare—"

He gripped the fat of your thighs before he rammed into you, knocking the wind out of you. "Hn.. Hha—"

"What happened to all that talk, huh? .. fuck you're tight." He hunched over you and started to thrust into your warm cunt , slow and steady but you felt so full. It was definitely the lack of prep but you couldn't help but moan and whine in his ear as the painful drag of his cock made you feel absolutely dizzy.

"Hmm? Is this all ya needed, doll face? Some cock to calm ya down?" He chuckled and sharply thrusted against that spongy spot inside of you, causing you to yelp and wriggle beneath him.

"S.. Shut.. up.. hha.. fuck.." You sounded pathetic beneath, "c.. can't you do better than this?" Oh, you were digging your own grave here.

"Heh." He propped up your legs, your ankles nearly touching your ears. "Don't say I didn't warn ya, babe." His hips began to piston into your cunt which made a lewd wet and slapping sound, you were beyond aroused, juices coating his cock effortlessly. "Fuck, there we go.." He moaned into your ear.

You could hardly speak, gripping at his back as he relentlessly attacked your cervix with the tip of his cock. "pl.. please...!" You didn't know what you were begging for.

"Please what, huh? Screwin' with me all day, pushing me into the.. fuck— damn water. you deserve this." He panted, and sat up , putting a little bit of space between you before grabbing your throat. Placing just the right amount of pressure to get you tightening up around him even more.

He honestly did this just for kicks, just to see that scared expression again.

"Gettin' off to be choked too, what a slut. Nngh.. it's fine though, ya know why doll?"

He leaned back down, his hips never ceasing to move. Your foreheads touched, "Because you're all mine now. C.. Can't let this tight cunt slip away from me.. mnh.."

He knows you wouldn't even be able to leave if you tried. You're stuck here with him forever.

You whimpered and pleaded pathetically, tears forming in your eyes. It was too much, it felt too good. Your entire body was buzzing with pleasure. "J–Jax.. gonna..!" You gasped, and he finally removed his hand.

"That's right cum on my cock babe, fuck." He grunted and used his free hand to rub circles onto your clit, pushing you over the edge immediately.

You yelled his name in pleasure, legs shaking and cunt siezing around him. It made you too tight, causing him to blow his load inside of you, "Shit.."

He slowly pulled out and a few more ropes of cum spilled onto your stomach.

Jax looked at you, all fucked out and barely able to keep your eyes open. He couldn't let anyone else see you like this.

Ever.

Unbeknownst to you, Jax just latched himself onto you. It'd be hard to rid of him after this.

It was like a coil snapped inside of him.

He stared at your for a long while, you were half asleep so you didn't exactly notice.

"Hey, toots." He gently slapped your cheek.

"C'mon.. we both need a shower. We can take care of the clothes later, yeah?"

"Huh, shower.. together..? n-no that's—"

"Ya really pulling that card right now? For all you know I could've just knocked you up, now c'mon."

The bunny pulled you onto your wobbly legs and into the bathroom to clean up.

#the amazing digital circus #ask #jax tadc #minors dni #jax x reader #jax smut #jax x reader smut

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vivwritesfics · 7 months ago

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Bleeding From The Storm

Chapter Two - Angel

After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.

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READ PLS: hello my lovelies!! So, if you're here from the first part, pls either reread or take note that I have removed all connection to the bianchi family -- the brother is called Louis and the last name is Dupont

Max returned to that spot time and time again. He drove past the café almost every day for his first week in Monaco. Sometimes his angel was there, sometimes she wasn't.

This time, though, when Max drove past, she was there. Sitting in the café with a fruity smoothie in front of her, wearing another sun dress. This time it was green, the skirt slightly shorter and little white flowers decorating it.

Max parked up around the corner. He straightened his tie and climbed out of his car. Always dressed in a suit just in case anybody needed him. Just in case his father called him back to work.

He walked past her, paying no mind as he stepped through the café doors. But then he stepped back, something between a smirk and a smile on his face as he walked towards her.

"Hi," he said, his hand on the back of the chair opposite her own. "Can I ask what you ordered? I'm hoping to get something sweet."

She knew not to talk to strangers. Even before the death of her brother, she had been taught how much danger she was in at all times. Normally Charles would be here to take care of it, to glare a the stranger until they moved away.

But Charles wasn't here. This is what she got for sneaking out.

Thank God this guy was cute. That shouldn't have been a reason to answer him, but she did. She held up her plastic cup and shook it slightly, answering him. "Strawberry banana," she said and put the straw to her lips. Max watched as the pink liquid moved up the straw. "It's incredibly sweet."

Max couldn't stop his smile from widening. He leaned against the chair in front of him now, not just resting his hands on it. "Is it as sweet as you?"

Oh, he was flirting with her.

She couldn't hide her embarrassment. Every time a mad had tried to flirt with her before, Charles had shut them down and scared them off.

But this man, well Charles wasn't there to scare him off. For the first time in her life a man was openly flirting with her. He was flirting with her and it was making het all bashful. And maybe a little bit shy.

He held his large hand out towards her. She couldn't help but take notice of the watch on his wrist. It was no doubt expensive, but that wasn't a surprise, considering where they were. "I'm Max," he said, keeping his hand stretched out.

She took it, but her grip was loose as she told him her name. "But everybody calls me Bunny."

"Bunny," he responded, listening to the way it rolled off of his tongue. He liked it, liked how it sounded. But, if everybody called her Bunny, Max needed something else. He looked at her, really looked at her. Looked at the way her hair fell around her shoulders, the way her fingers, nails painted to match her dress, wrapped around her plastic cups. Looked at the way her pink lips wrapped around her straw. "Angel. I think it's more fitting."

Before Max could say anything further, his phone beeped. Saving her, he couldn't help but think. "Well, Angel, I have to go," he said, standing up straight. "Can I see you again?"

She smiled as she nodded. "You know where to find me," she said and sipped the rest of her drink.

Max looked at her once more and walked away, down the street and back to his car. For the last week Max had been waiting for his father to call him back to work and, now that he had, he didn't want to leave.

Max disappeared and she was alone. She sipped her smoothie and returned to her small sketchbook, pencil moving against the page.

Suddenly, somebody slipped into the seat opposite her. She looked up, hoping it was Max, returning to flirt with her some more. But she was met with disappointment.

"Oh, Arthur," she said when she looked at the youngest Leclerc brother. "Am I in trouble?"

Arthur let out a small laugh and furrowed her brows at her. "You sneak out too often to get into trouble, Bun," he replied as he looked around.

"Not because I spoke to that guy?" She asked innocently.

But Arthur's face dropped. He may have been younger than her, but he was still tasked with keeping her safe. "Do you remember what this guy looked like, Bunny?" He asked as he grabbed her sketchbook and pulled her from her chair.

She nodded her head as Arthur led her down the street. "He was cute," she said and let out a little laugh.

But Arthur wasn't laughing as he looked around the streets. "You know that's not what I meant," he replied as he led her into her apartment building. "You know you're not meant to talk to strangers."

He dragged her up the stairs and pulled her into her apartment. Arthur immediately sat her down and checked every crevice of the apartment. He grabbed the knife from the kitchen and checked inside of the bedroom.

Nothing, her apartment was clear.

"Fucking hell, Bunny," Arthur spat. "You had me terrified."

She pouted as she fiddled with her fingers. "He was flirting with me, 'thur. I think he really thought I was cute," she mumbled and laid herself down on the sofa, pulling her legs into her chest.

Arthur released a breath from his nose as he looked down at her. "Of course he did, Bunny," he whispered and ran his fingers through her hair. "It's just... Charles and I don't know this person. We don't know if they can be trusted.”

She didn't reply.

Eventually Charles came to her apartment. When he let himself in, Arthur retreated to the kitchen. To 'make dinner', he had said. (But, something you should know about the Leclerc brothers is that neither of them could cook very well. Arthur stopped by his mothers every night for dinner and Charles wouldn't eat unless Bunny cooked for him).

The first thing Charles did was stride over to her. He sat on the end of the couch and looked down at her. "I'm not mad you snuck out," he said. Which, although it sounded like it, it wasn't a good sign. If it wasn't because of the sneaking out, he was mad about something else.

She didn't look at him, instead staring at her coffee table. There was a light layer on dust on it, and she made a mental note to clean it later. After this stupid conversation.

"But, Bunny, I need you to tell me who this guy is. Did he give you a name? Any indication of who she was?"

She'd made the mistake of telling Arthur something, she wasn't going to do it again. She tried her best to shrug her shoulders from the position she was sitting in, but it didn't much work. "He just asked what flavour my smoothie was," she said and sat up slightly.

She couldn't tell if Charles believed her or not. He simply let out a sigh and patted her leg. "Wanna get take out?" He asked softly. "We can kick Arthur out, share Chinese food and watch a movie. How does that sound, Bun?"

Her arms were folded over her chest as she sat up and looked at him. "Are you paying for it?" She asked through a pout.

"Yeah, Bun, I'll pay for it," he said and went to the kitchen to grab the menus. At the same time he kicked Arthur out of the apartment (grateful that he hadn't started cooking any sort of monstrosity yet).

Charles knew exactly what he was going to be ordering, but he still handed her the menu. She asked for the same thing every time, and this time was no different. He was on the phone, ordering food within minutes.

He couldn't concentrate on much through the movie. Charles watched her, but he couldn't help but think of some faceless stranger, snatching her in the middle of the night.

He'd let her get away with sneaking out, even if he hadn't meant to. But not again. There was no way Charles was going to let her out of his sight now.

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catsteeth · 7 months ago

Text

Sugar & Violence

Podrick Payne x reader

+:✿ Chapter 1 ✿:+ : Lucky Boy

chapter 2

Summary: You’re a Mormont being held hostage by House Lannister. You are acting now as the Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell, whom you’ve grown quite close with. But it seems that a squire has caught your attention as you have caught his.

CW: afab reader, slow burn, mention violence, blood, mention of harassment, mention of NSFW themes.

A/N: I am not giving up on the leashed dog series yall I promise I have just been PINING for pod the rod recently… and tbh we need a little sweetness with everything happening in the other series okay. He is a rom com boy trapped in a medieval fantasy war and I feel so bad for him.

Word Count: 3348

It had been many days now being held by the Lannisters. You’d no real duties on Bear Island as it was such a small house. Your Aunt was a fierce leader and needed no guidance. You had chosen to venture off of Bear Island to celebrate your coming of age. You decided to travel all over the realm, you wished to see the world and experience all of it. However at a tavern near Kings Landing a man decided to grab at you. You hated it when men did that, so you took your cup of ale and smashed the whole cup into his nose.

It broke of course, and of course, like a child he wept. If a man had done such to another man no one would have batted an eye. But because it was a gold cloak you “assaulted”, and because you were you, a Mormont. An enemy house, you were arrested and brought to the Lannisters. They thought of killing you but instead decided to make use of you.

And they did make good use of you. With you there, Bear Island would be swayed away from ever siding with Stannis against them with you in your custody. Not only that but you were trained in healing, and not nearly as hardened looking as the other women of Bear Island. You were made Handmaiden for Margery Tyrell while she was inhabiting the city.

Margery had done her part in helping you fit in. She showed you how to style your hair, how to pick a dress that suited your figure, how to manipulate the men around you, keeping you out of any more unnecessary trouble. When she dressed you up, no one would be able to tell you could swing a sword just as well as any Kingsgaurd or sellsword could.

You see Margery had to pretend in front of everyone else, but with you, you weren’t loyal to the Lannisters and she knew this. Besides you two had bonded after many nights drinking wine late at night in her bedchambers. Like two little girls who had stolen their fathers ale. You’d spend the nights talking of your lives and your wishes.

Margery was the same again and again, to be the queen. And yours was always the same, to live life and experience all you could.

You and she also talked of men. You’d had experience, and so had she. Not many women would admit it but you two were close enough that you felt you could.

You and she attended many festive celebrations with one another, and to anyone else it would seem you were enjoying your time there. That was good, you did not want to attract any attention.

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Your station as a handmaiden made it easy to overhear and eavesdrop on many high born conversations. One that caught your attention the most was that Janos Slynt, the commander of the gold cloaks, the man who arrested you, was going to be dismissed from his duty.

You weren’t above pettiness. You wanted to hear him be dismissed with your own ears. You found a small room within the castle. Tyrion was hosting a small dinner with Slynt. This was going to be the dinner where he was going to be dismissed. You pressed your back against the wall beside the door listening in. The majority of the dinner was mindless small talk, until

“Damn it boy!” Slynt said loudly.

The shout was so loud you couldn’t help but turn and peer into the room, catching a glimpse of the man who arrested you, Lord Tyrion Lannister, and a squire. You saw that the squire had spilt wine all over the hand of Slynt. It made you smile, holding in amusement.

“My apologies my Lord.” The shorter brown haired squire said.

“You can pour your own wine.” Tyrion said in defense of the squire.

You looked back to Slynt and saw that you had been seen, Slynt raised a brow at you.

“You girl! You the Mormont?" Slynt said loudly,

‘Fuck’ you thought to yourself. Knowing you’d been caught.

“Indeed, My Lord.” You said, putting on a meek and sweet demeanor.

“Come in here,” Slynt commanded.

“What are you doing here, My Lady?” Tyrion questioned you gently.

“Looking for my Lady Tyrell, I seem to have lost my way, My Lord.” You said bowing your head. A convincing enough lie.

“I was responsible for your arrest, do you remember that, girl.” His face was confident and irritating.

“I do, Ser.” You said still attempting to keep a sweet and calm demeanor.

“I thought she was to be punished?” Slynt said to Tyrion.

“She is HandMaiden to Lady Margery Tyrell, and as I am told, a very skilled healer. She has proven to be quite useful.” Lord Tyrion said with a smile looking at you, you smiled back.

“A girl assaults a member of the gold cloaks and is given a position in your Kingdom?”

“A decision made by the King. If you wish to disagree with his decision-”

“Course not.” Slynt interrupted, “Wine,” he commanded, holding up his empty cup.

The same squire began to walk towards the man with the pitcher of wine.

“Not you, boy, the bear girl.” Slynt said looking at you, the irritation boiled inside of you. But you did your best to keep your cool.

You took the pitcher from the squires hands, you looked at him for a moment, his worried expression changed into a smile. It was a smile of total innocence you thought to yourself.

You took the pitcher and walked your way towards the table, as you began to pour wine into his cup he started to speak again.

“Tell me girl, are you enjoying the city?” His tone was one of an interrogator.

“Yes, My Lord.” You said pouring, with a cherubic smile.

“You don’t look like the women of Bear Island.” He said biting his lip, it made you feel ill.

“Indeed, My Lord.” Agree blindly, that’s what Margery taught you anyway

“Women there are beasts,” He said to Tyrion.

“Like you I assume?” Tyrion teased him, it made you smile.

“No, no, like her aunt Maege.” He said and your smile dwindled, but you kept it on.

You didn’t respond this time, biting your tongue, you felt the anger in you rising but said nothing. You wanted to pour the wine on his balding head, but still, did nothing.

“Tell me is it true, is it true she fucked a bear?”

“Lord Slyn-” Tyrion began

“What do you wish for me to say, my Lord?” You felt your temper slipping from between your fingertips. Your smile now gone.

“Do you think I wish for you to lie girl?” Slynt’s tone was harsh,

You stared at him for a moment, your smile snapping back into place.

“Whatever you’d command, my Lord.”

“Enough.” Tyrion tried to stop it.

“You’d do anything I commanded?”

“I said enough. Lady Mormont, you may see to your lady.” Tyrion commanded, saving you from whatever was to come next.

You smiled and curtseyed as you walked back to place the pitcher back on the table. With your back turned to the men your face dropped and you made eye contact with the same squire. He looked at you with pity in his eyes. You couldn’t stand it. You spit into the pitcher and smiled at the squire, he tried hard to hold back his amusement, only giving it away with a smirk as he looked down at his feet.

As you walked out of the room you made sure not to make the same mistake as before. You hid better, committed to hearing this man be removed from his position. And you did, and it was just as satisfying as you thought it would be. Especially when he was escorted by his own gold cloaks out of the tower, kicking and whining like a child.

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During the Battle of Blackwater you attended to many mens wounds.

It had taken most of the night, you were not concerned with the war that waged outside the castle walls. If they won, nothing changed for you. If they lost, you’d either be set free, or once again, nothing would change. Most likely it would be the latter.

You among a few other ladies attended to wounds and dying men while the Maester did as much as he could for those who were far gone.

Things had slowed down, beds were nearly full, but then knights rushed in holding Lord Tyrion. His face had been cut deeply. The cut had crossed his entire face. You could tell at first glance that it would scar, but he would live. It would have been extremely painful but thankfully he was unconscious.

They were all shouting at the Maester. To halt what he was doing and to attend to their lord. As he did a tall man, Bronn, the man who replaced Slynt. Dragged a shorter man with short dark hair towards the Maester.

“Lads hand is cut deep, needs help.” Bronn said

“I can’t attend to every cut and scrape when there's a dying lord in my presence.” The old Maester said, quite dramatically you thought. Tyrion was badly wounded but he would live. “Mormont, girl, you attend to the lad!” He shouted to you.

“Is she any good?” Bronn said, the other shorter man looked at you with what looked like embarrassment, “This lad saved that Lord's life.” You huffed at his comment, it annoyed you how he didn’t ask you but the Maester.

“If I’d a cock they’d call me a Maester.” You said walking closer to him til you were inches apart, it made him take a gasp of air puffing up his chest, and his lips formed a line. “Show me,” You said, much softer this time. He relaxed a bit and as you presented your hand, palm facing him. He placed his hand in yours. “Not so bad,” you said as you examined it.

“Hear that Podrick, not bad-” Bronn said to the shorter man.

“Not so bad. It is still bad.” You noticed his expression change to a more worried one. You, for some reason, felt the need to let your cold and hardened attitude slip for a moment. “But you won’t lose it. I’ll clean it, stitch it, and bandage it.” You placed your other hand over his, trying to comfort him. “Sit.”

He nodded and did so, laying his hand on the table. You began to clean it. Your eyes snapped from his wound to his face as he winced. “Is it true?” he looked at you and his eyes made your stomach feel like there were butterflies in it, so you looked back to his wound as you tended to it, “You saved him? Lord Tyrion?”

“I- I helped him, My Lady.” He said, stammering. Though you weren’t looking at him you could tell his eyes were on your face.

“You’re quite brave, Ser.” You said as you finished cleaning his wound.

“Thank you, My Lady, but I’m not-”

“He’s no Ser, that lads a squire.” Bronn interrupted, “I tell you what though Lass, you want a knight I’ll be happy to oblige.” He said stepping closer to you, your eyes returned to your work on the squires hand.

“Men like you amuse me, Ser. They believe they are still young, handsome, and desirable. No matter what they look like.” You said attempting to fain genuine amusement as if he’d told a joke.

As Bronn attempted to begin a retort, you heard a small laugh leave the unconscious Lord’s lips, still not fully conscious.

“See? I am a good healer.” You said as everyone looked at Tyrion's subtle laugh as you continued to work.

The squire looked back at you with a slight grin, as if he were trying to hide his amusement.

“Much braver for a squire to do such a thing.” You said softly just so he’d hear it.

He smiled at you in response, He was pretty you thought. Men on Bear Island were fearsome, rigid, and gruff. This one wasn’t, the opposite in fact. He’d had a natural goodness about him, a sweetness.

That's when you realized he was the same squire from the dinner between Ser Slynt and Lord Tyrion.

“I know you.” You said with narrow eyes and furrowed brows, finally realizing.

“Yes, my Lady.” His smile and innocent response made you smile involuntarily, you tried to hide it to no avail. You were flattered that he’d even remembered you. The feeling of flattery didn’t come naturally to you at all either.

“This part is going to hurt.” You said pulling the curved needle through his flesh, he winced and hissed. Your eyes went towards him, normally you never cared. A man should learn to handle pain, you always thought. But you hated to see him in any discomfort. “Bring him wine.” You called out to Bronn. Your words towards Bronn were no near as gentle and sweet sounding as they were towards Podrick.

He began to drink it, only sipping a little at first, but you pushed the cup up making him down more. “You’ll want to be numb to this.” You explained.

As he continued to drink you continued with your work. By the end of it you bandaged his hand, “Finished,” You said standing up, and he followed your actions.

“I can’t thank you enough, my lady.” He said clearly a little drunk from the wine.

“Alright,” Bronn said grabbing Podrick by the back of his neck and dragged him out of the chamber. You could hear Bronn outside say “You can fuck the she-bear later.” followed by some distant protesting by Podrick.

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A day had passed since the battle. You were in your chambers with Margery. You’d told her about all the handsome knights you’d seen that night.

She’d teased you about how lucky you were to have gotten your hands on so many. You had begun to describe the squire you’d met. How strange it was to have met a man so pleasant in such an awful place.

As the two of you laughed there was a knock at your door. Margery took it upon herself to answer it.

“Lady Tyrell, apologies for the interruption. I came to thank Lady Mormont.” You heard his voice and knew who it was immediately.

“Ah! I take it you were a knight she tended to during the battle?” Margery asked him, you wanted to laugh, but held it in.

“A squire, my Lady.” He said, his tone was somewhat sullen. As if he were embarrassed to say it.

“A squire…” Margery said with her signature smile as she turned to look at you, raising her eyebrows, then turning back to him “Well I shall leave you to express your gratitude.” She said as she left.

You stood from your chair and stepped forward.

“Lady Mormont?” He said walking towards you, as he did he pulled out a small but beautiful delicate yellow flower. It had only recently bloomed.

“A flower?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. On Bear Island people hardly said the word thank you much less showed appreciation through gifts, especially not such sweet ones as this.

“I don’t have much, my lady. But I- I wanted to show my gratitude.” He said with his token innocent wide eyed look. You took the flower and smiled slightly, which made him smile back.

“It was my duty, you don’t need to give me flowers for it.” He looked down, as if he was disappointed in himself. You smelt the flower, to show your hidden appreciation of the gesture. “Show me your hand.” You held your hands out, he hesitated not expecting you to command such a thing, but he did it as you asked. “Hurting at all?” You asked softly examining the cut.

“No, my lady.” His voice was gentle as always.

“It’s healing well.” You said running your finger tip along the length of the stitches, the sensation made him take his hand away, rubbing it against the side of his pants.

He grunted a little and cleared his throat, “All your doing, my Lady.”

You looked at him with a smirk, “How long have you been squiring for Lord Tyrion?”

“For a short time,”

“Well, you’ll need to learn to pour wine. You spill wine on every Lord in Westeros, sooner or later you’ll spill it on the wrong one.” You said walking towards a table, you grabbed a glass and a pitcher of wine.

“Pour me wine.” You said handing him a pitcher of wine.

You stepped closer towards him, making his swallow hard. But he took the pitcher nonetheless.

“hold the pitcher like this-“ You said moving his hands position with your own, “from the handle, and the bottom” You looked up into his eyes, noticing he was looking right at you “Keep your eyes on the glass.” You said, snapping him out of whatever trance he was in and going back to the task at hand.

“Like this?” He asked, his voice somewhat more confident.

“Mhmm.” The hum of your voice too close to him made him close his eyes for just a moment. He finished filling your cup, without spilling a drop, “Very good.” As you said it he and you looked at one another, his eyes were wide once again.

“What were you doing there, my lady?” He asked, with a genuine curiosity. “You said you were looking for your Lady, and forgive me for suspecting otherwise-”

“Eavesdropping.” You interrupted “I had heard they were sending Slynt away, and I wanted to hear it myself.”

“How did you hear of that?”

“Again, eavesdropping.” You smirked

“A-and what are you doing here, in Westeros? You were arrested?”

“It seems you were also eavesdropping.” You teased him.

“Uh well we were in the same room-” You ignored him,

“I left Bear Island to travel, during my travels a Gold cloak tried to force himself on me, so I defended myself.” You said in a matter of fact, you’d no regrets, and no pain towards the matter. However his big brown eyes looked saddened for you, pity, you couldn’t stand pity, “It’s alright, really.” You said trying to reassure him.

“Do you miss your home?” He asked, sweetly.

“I do,” You responded softly, strange how this man was able to gentle your harsh demeanor.

“What was it like?” When he asked it you were thrown off, no one had asked you anything about your home in a genuine way. No one had any interest in it beyond the same constant boring insults.

“Cold. Not just the temperature, the people. But it was beautiful there. Green, rivers, waterfalls.” You smiled softly thinking of it, and found yourself wondering about him, “What of you? You miss your home?”

“I didn’t have much of one, my Lady.” He lowered his head,

“How’d you get here?” Your eyes narrowed wanting to know more of him. Genuinely.

“I was the squire for a Ser Lorimer of the Westerlands army. One night he was drunk, and he stole a ham, he shared it with me. We were caught, and he was sentenced to hang for his crime but I was spared for my name.”

“Lucky boy.” You said with a smirk. One that made his stomach flip.

“You are different, with the men at the tables. You’re sweet and… simple- but you're not that.” He said, stammering, trying his best not to offend you.

Your smirk faded, “Men want sweet and simple. Men don’t beat things that are sweet and simple.”

“You’ve been beaten?” He asked as if it were a horrific discovery.

“Most girls have.” You said calmly in contrast

“I-I am sorry, My Lady.”

“That’s alright. "

“No, it’s not.”

“No, it’s not.” You smiled softly at him. “You’re a good man, for a southern man. Or just for a man.”

“Thank you, my lady.” He said with a slight grin.

“You don’t have to call me that. (Y/N), will do.”

“(Y/N)” he smiled to himself “(Y/N) Mormont… it is a pretty name.” His grin grew

“You never told me yours.”

“Ser Bronn told you-“

“But you never told me.” You interrupted.

“Podrick Payne, my- (Y/N)” He stumbled remembering to call you by your name.

“Well, goodnight then, my Podrick.” You said teasingly with a smirk.

Hearing you say those words, “my” followed by his name made a heat rush his face, a visible one. He licked his lips and bowed his head as he responded “Goodnight, (Y/N)” He said as he left you.

You smelt the flower once more before Margery barged in,

“A squire?”

NOTE: There is a serious drought of Podrick Payne fan fiction series on this app so I had to. And yes… as always my babygirls, we will be fucking. JUST HOLD ON… I don’t know dick about Slynt so his dialogue is probably off so i apologize if you love him or smth lmao. TAG LIST: This is a new series so if you want to be included comment or message me!

#podrick #podrick payne #podrick x reader #podrick x you #podrick x y/n #podrick payne x reader #podrick payne x you #podrick payne x y/n #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fic #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones #got fanfic #got fic #got #podrick headcanons

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lisired · 8 months ago

Text

dress code

pairing: professor!yuta x student!reader

genre/warnings: smut, power imbalance, age gap, spanking, yuta likes fucking you in your skirts and hitting it from the back, don’t really think there’s much degradation or praise, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (dont be silly wrap ur willy)

summary: Nakamoto Yuta and his rings have caught your eye. In an effort to seduce your professor, you decide to take your best friend’s advice and change your wardrobe. You’re given an advantage when Yuta’s son asks you to tutor him, and it’s like Satan is handing you opportunities on a silver platter - but at what cost?

word count: 7.4k

a/n: ¾ of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!

“Who are you thinking about?”

You flinched when you heard a voice direct a question towards you. You turned to your side to see Ten, who instead of apologizing for startling you, leaned in curiously.

Nakamoto Yuta, you wanted to exhale dreamily. To say that you were besotted with your professor was an understatement. In class, you could hardly pay attention to his lectures, eyes too busy swallowing him whole.

Yuta was one of the most handsome men you had ever laid eyes on. His long ginger hair and gorgeous face structure immediately caught your attention, though after time you noticed more and more that he knew how to accessorize himself in a way that best suited his style.

The rings were a personal favorite example of yours - both the ones on his ears and the ones around his fingers. They came in abundance, never no less than two at a time. And not only did they complement his beauty, they were the fuel for some of your classroom day dreams.

“How do you know I’m thinking about someone?”

Ten rolled his eyes, though he wasn’t surprised by your response. It was very in-character of you to dodge the question. “Easy. Your face is in your palms and you were staring into empty space with a love-struck smile on your face. Plus you’re answering a question with a question. Now spill the beans before the lecture starts.”

You sighed, knowing you were caught. Then quickly changed your posture, earning a snicker from the man beside you. As one of your best friends, Ten knew you too well. And as of one of his best friends, you knew he loved drama and other people’s business way too much to be safe.

“If I tell you,” you began, reluctant. “You have to promise you won’t judge.”

Ten winced and said, “I only make promises I know I won’t break, love. And the fact that you’re telling me this alone is an indicator that I am definitely gonna be judging you. With love.”

“With love, my ass,” you groaned. “Whatever. Then, promise me you won’t rat me out.”

“Now, I’m no snitch. Your secret is mine, best friend. Scout’s honor.”

There came the urge to hesitate and hold your tongue, but you knew Ten would press until you eventually opened up. There was no way he would come out of the room empty-handed unless your secret was serious. In a way it was, but he wouldn’t see it as that.

“Fine,” you huffed. His eyes were firm on you and you could feel them, awaiting your answer patiently. You opened your mouth with a sigh and whispered, “Professor Nakamoto.”

Ten burst into a fit of laughter. Loud laughter that drew unwanted attention and stares from confused nearby students. He was red in the face with an arm around his stomach.

With narrowed eyes, you asked, “Are you done?”

Ten shook his head. He laughed some more until he finally calmed down, then finally managed to get a sentence out. “You’re trying to screw Shotaro’s dad? You’re unbelievable.”

“Not screw him,” you replied, then Ten gave you a look that made it clear he could tell that you were lying. “Fine, goddammit. I want him, and I need him to want me. Dunno how, though.”

Your best friend shrugged. “Showing some skin always seems to work. Men can’t resist their temptations.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re a man.”

“Which makes my advice more plausible,” Ten shot without hesitation.

Point made. If there was anything you wanted to say after that, the words died on your tongue. You nodded in response. “Touché.”

Even though you would never admit it to his face, it was good advice and you were having a epiphany. As Yuta strutted into the room and bid the class good morning, rings on his ears and fingers, an idea was born in your mind.

You knew how to complement your beauty as well.

As soon as the next day, your plan came into action. You wore shorts that barely covered your thighs and clung to your skin, pairing them with a full-length top to avoid raising suspicion.

Part of your plan was to start slow. Given it was nearly summer, you were offered some leeway and no one would second-guess your apparent change in wardrobe, but too much skin might have become a problem. It wasn’t that you never wore anything revealing, but something of this frequency and extent was typically out of the question for you.

Boys catcalled you in the halls. Unwelcomed attention, but it was a sign you were doing something right. The other sign - one of which you dreaded even more - was your best friend’s reaction as you walked to your seat.

“Holy shit. I see you listened to your best friend for once.”

“I always listen to you. Now shut the hell up, he’s coming,” you whispered, pretending to look as if you were preparing.

Class was typical which was fine, you expected no prompt changes. Your plan would be a gradual progress and you knew slow and steady won the race.

As per usual, you soon became distracted by your professor and began to fantasize. Yuta had a dangerous habit of running his fingers through his locks of hair, which brought inevitable attention to his hands. And thus his rings. Which spurred on your imagination every time without fail.

You thought about Yuta fingering you with his rings on, the surface of the material cool against your clit. The thought made your thighs press together with a shudder. It was always hell to think about your teacher during class because you had no way of relieving yourself, but there was always material for when you got home. Apart from both enjoying and needing the class, that was another good reason to show up everyday.

Soon you sank into thought. Someone like him had to be experienced. For one, he was older. Yuta had never stated that he’d been around, but sometimes he stopped the class to talk about things he did when he was in his twenties - which made you wonder what else he’d done. Then, he was devilishly handsome and you knew for a fact you weren’t the only one who had a thing for him. Yuta was the professor your peers swooned over, you could only imagine how many women his age flocked towards him.

Class came to an end which was fortunate for you. It meant that you got to go home and handle the ache between your thighs. Everyone left without wasting time and you told Ten not to wait for you. He shot you a knowing smirk and told you that he’d seen you tomorrow.

Other than Yuta, you purposely made sure you would be the last one to leave, packing away your materials ever so slowly and pretending to fix your clothes. Yuta never left before anyone and you could feel his eyes burn through you.

“No plans today?” Yuta asked, voice booming throughout the near-empty room. “You’re usually one of the first people to run out the door - and you always sit on the opposite side.”

That’s because I rush home to take care of myself, you thought. Though there was no way you would say that aloud. Instead you swung your bag over your shoulders and moved a premeditated distance from your desk. From where he stood, your legs were on display.

“No, sir. Just homework,” you lied. Of course you had plans, plans that concerned him. None that you could tell him about, though.

Gaze hard on you, Yuta bobbed his head and replied, “I see. Don’t let me hold up one of my top students, then. Have a good night.”

One of his top students. It was impossible to hold in your grin when he said that. Although it was true he was a major distractor when it came to your learning, you’d be damned if you didn’t make it your mission to study hard and impress him. Apparently, it was working.

“Goodnight, sir,” you bid him. Then you made a break for the door. Those plans awaited you at home in your bedroom and you knew that you’d be busy for a while.

When Shotaro approached you, you were completely unexpecting and somewhat fearful of what he had to say.

For one, there was no reason for Osaki Shotaro of all people to be approaching you. Sure, you had your mutual friendships and classes, but you weren’t close by any means and the sole time you recalled having a one-on-one discussion with him was when you were assigned together.

There was no class today. He found you in your natural habitat, the on-campus Starbucks with your laptop on the table and your headphones around your head. You only slung your headphones down your neck when you noticed him sitting across from you.

“May I help you, Taro?” you asked, throwing him a confused glance.

Shotaro nodded, breaking into a smile that you couldn’t deny was attractive. However, you were far too attracted to his father to be affected by his charms. “I got a problem.”

Now you were utterly confused. “I’m no problem solver.”

“Oh I think you are. I could really fucking use a math tutor and Ten told me you’d be my safest option. Said you wouldn’t mind, especially if I paid you up. I’ve been slacking in that subject lately and I gotta get it together if I wanna stay on the team,” the boy told you, albeit somewhat abashedly.

Ten, you slick motherfucker, you thought graciously. The connection between the pair was that they were both on the school’s competitive dance team together. Ten had seriously hooked both you and Shotaro up. Math happened to be your specialty and Shotaro lived with Yuta, his father. Tutoring him at his place would grant you even more opportunities.

“Holy shit,” you winced.

Shotaro nodded discontently. “Yeah, it’s bad, I know. Look, if you’re not down or something it’s all good. I get we’re not that close so it might seem weird for me to come up on you out of the blue. I’ll pay you twenty an hour, though.”

“On second thought, maybe I am a problem-solver,” you replied, much to Shotaro’s amusement. Twenty per hour for tutoring didn’t sound too bad, and plus, there was the firm chance you’d see Yuta. You outstretched your hand and said, “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Shotaro shook your hand. “Alright, partner. When are you free?”

You told Shotaro your schedule and let him know you’d text him if you ever needed to take a rain check. He told you he’d follow the same procedure and you agreed to meet at his place for your first session on Friday. Satan was handing you opportunities on a silver platter.

When he left, you pulled out your phone and texted your best friend.

Thanks, you cunt, you messaged.

Ten replied back, Yeah, whatever. You owe me one.

That you did. But you were focused on bigger, larger things.

Nakamoto Yuta.

When Friday rolled around, you were beyond excited. Shotaro had warned you in advance that his father would be home and told you not to worry.

And you assured him that you didn’t mind. Little did he know, you were planning what you would wear the moment he let you know. It was a difficult choice. You wanted to wear something that would suit the heat though also not seem too much for a study session. In the end you settled for something simple yet revealing - a cute dress you found thrown away in the pits of your closet.

When you got to Shotaro’s house, Yuta welcomed you inside.

“Shotaro’s not here yet. He’ll be back soon. I apologize on his behalf for keeping you waiting,” Yuta said once you stepped inside and showed you to a spot on the couch.

You chirped politely, “It’s fine, sir. I don’t mind.”

He was quick to say, “We’re not on campus, you can drop the formalities. Call me Yuta.”

That made you blink in surprise, although you nodded nonetheless. It was definitely a step up the ladder and you hoped that you would soon be content. You didn’t want to just say it his name, you wanted him to make you scream it.

“The weather has been getting sunnier by the day, you’re probably thirsty,” Yuta figured, stepping into the kitchen. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Water, please.”

Yuta kindly brought you a glass of water and you spent the entire time attempting to subtly survey him. When he handed you the drink, you tried your best not to stare at his hands. It seemed as if he wore rings no matter the occasion and they only made his already beautiful hands look nicer.

Then, you peeped his outfit. And simultaneously realized you had never seen your professor outside of formal attire - up until now, at least. That wasn’t to say that you were complaining. Whatever Yuta chose to wear suited his appearance and you could tell he had an impeccable idea of what style fitted him.

“You should learn how to keep your eyes to yourself.”

You blinked in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“You’re too smart to be playing dumb,” Yuta said, sitting to your side. You noticeably gulped in response to how close he had gotten, and his lips curled with amusement. “You think I don’t notice you staring at me? You’re not subtle.”

In spite of the water you were drinking, your mouth began to feel dry. There was nothing you could fix your mouth to say. Not only had you been caught, but Yuta was implying that he had noticed long before now. With that much knowledge on his hands, it would be simple to piece together why you were checking your professor out at every given opportunity.

The little smirk on his lips alone was enough to convince you that he knew your every thought that ran rampant in your mind. There was no other reason you would be looking at your professor so hard - staring concentratedly at his hands and face - if you had no carnal desires.

Acknowledging your speechless state, Yuta leaned in and slid his thumb under your chin, leaving you no choice but to meet his knife-like gaze. “Be good for me and maybe, just maybe I’ll think about giving you what you want.”

The front door knob began to jiggle yet Yuta took his time to pull away from you. He began to sip from his glass and you tried to quickly appear as if nothing had happened - as if your heart wasn’t racing and threatening to pop out your chest.

Shotaro burst through the door and headed straight for the kitchen, a single grocery bag in his hold. “Sorry I’m late. Summer is beating my ass so I went to get ice cream. You want some?”

Shotaro didn’t notice a damn thing.

You just hoped he wouldn’t notice the way his father was looking at you, the same way you could feel him staring into your back.

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, nothing had escalated but the decreasing length of your outfits and the thick tension between you and your professor. There were hardly moments where you were alone and whatever seclusion you did have was always short-lived.

In spite of it all, your plan was so far a success. The longing stares became more mutual and frequent than ever. You noticed that Yuta would unabashedly gaze at whatever bare skin was available to his vision, which came in abundance and less and less was left to imagination. There was no doubt that Yuta had noticed - you just wondered if he would eventually confront you about what was an obvious motive by now. After all, he had told you that he’d think about giving you what you wanted.

If you’re good for him, you recalled. In all honesty, you weren’t sure what that entailed. Between the line of good or bad, you weren’t sure where you teetered in his eyes.

But you hoped that you were good. You wanted to be good. For him. It meant everything that he saw you in the same way you did him, and now that you knew there was a chance you could achieve everything that you had only dreamed of, you were over the moon with thrill.

You wanted Nakmoto Yuta, and you were determined to have him.

Class was typical, as always. Again you were left behind, although not on purpose. A text from Shotaro hindered you.

The text read, Raincheck. I forgot I had practice today.

You texted him back swiftly and began to pack away your materials. But when you made an attempt to leave, Yuta’s voice grounded you in place. “Come here.”

At first you stood there, unable to move an inch. Though the commanding glint in his eyes made you feel as though you were under a spell, controlling you and making you walk forward, and you winded up in front of his desk.

“Yes, sir?” you said quietly.

Yuta shook his head. He said nothing, gesturing with his fingers for you to come closer. And you had no will to disobey him. Playing with the edges of your skirt, you turned behind his desk and made a noise of surprise when he abruptly pulled you onto his lap.

Exhilaration made your heart beat at an impossible pace. It thundered against its cage and made it’s presence known. As much as you had fantasized about your professor in such manner, you felt utterly unprepared for whatever plan ran through his brain. Yuta was inscrutable, that much manifested in the way he taught - unpredictable twists his lectures took that gave good reason for his class to be your favorite. Whatever he wanted to do to you was perfectly unclear, better yet how he would do it.

Yuta hooked one arm around your waist, his free hand leisurely stroking your thigh. He leaned into your ear and asked, “Any plans for today?”

Remembering that Shotaro had cancelled on you, you shook your head. Even if you did have plans, especially any immediate ones, they would have simply had to wait. There was something more significant on your hands.

Yuta hit your thigh and you bit back a whimper. “You have words, use them.”

“No, sir,” you told him, forcing out the words that felt clammed in your throat. He seemed satisfied, moving his fingers from your thigh to underneath your skirt. Suddenly, you were grateful of today’s outfit choice - it gave him easy access.

You gasped when you felt his fingers directly between your thighs. This was it - this was everything you had dreamed of. His rings brushed against you and made you shiver, cool to the touch just as you had imagined that they would be. Which made you wonder what else was up to par with your imagination. Curiosity filled you up to the damn brim and you were eager to know.

“You’re soaking,” Yuta commented, chuckling. “Were you thinking about me?”

That made you feel caught, though as usual, it would have been a bold-faced lie to say that you hadn’t spent the better half of the lecture imagining your professor doing unspeakable things to you. Whenever he was in close proximity of you, a moment rarely passed where you weren’t thinking of him. There was no limit. You couldn’t have enough of the man you craved most.

The thoughts hit you hard as soon as the question escaped from between his lips and Yuta knew he had his answer when he felt you clench around his fingers. The sound of him chuckling should have humiliated you, but your body responded with arousal. It was a blessing that your back was to his chest, eye contact would eat you alive.

“Yes, sir.”

“Thinking about me doing what?” He pressed, but the fact that he was still touching you, pushing his fingers inside made it hard to form any coherent thoughts or sentences. You wanted to focus on what he was doing to your body.

You took a deep breath and said, “Touching me, like this. I��, I always imagine you touching me with your rings on.”

“Mm, yeah?” Yuta hummed. “You wanna know what I think about?”

You muttered, “Yes.” Then, you braced yourself.

“Bending you over this desk and fucking you right in these little skirts you love wearing to seduce me.”

It was safe to say that Yuta had caught on to your shenanigans, but you didn’t care. There was no other thought on your mind except for him, and everything you wanted him to do to you.

“Please,” you whimpered.

Yuta feigned confusion. “Please, what?”

“Fuck me,” you begged. “Please fuck me, sir. I need you. Haven’t I been good?”

That was all it took for Yuta’s resolve to crumble, and in the blink of an eye, he had pushed you overneath his desk. The sound of his belt unbuckling made you tremble with anticipation. All of your patience had dissipated, and so had his. You needed each other.

Yuta pulled your panties to the side and you made a little noise when you felt the tip brush against you. “Ready?”

You gave him the go-ahead in a small voice that didn’t nearly uncover the entire extent of how much you wanted this. When Yuta finally pushed in, the relief you felt then was unimaginable. For so long you had wanted your professor, and now that you had him, it felt like a dream.

Impossible to miss, you noticed Yuta’s grunt when he slid inside you. That alone made you feel like you were soaring. His hands fell to your hips and his rings urged a cool sensation on the area of bare skin.

When you moaned, Yuta lifted one of his palms from your waist and hit your ass. “Unless you want everyone to hear you moaning like a slut, be a good girl and stay quiet.”

Easier said than done. There was too much pleasure involved, too much for you to be able to conceal. You bit your bottom lip, hoping it would do the job. It was the best that you could do to muffle your sounds.

And you weren’t the only one, either. Although Yuta was better at supressing noises, you couldn’t miss the sexy little grunts he made, his grip on your waist tightening with pleasure. It drove you near damn mad hearing him like that. The fact that he was so close to you did nothing to help. He was nearly in your ear, and you felt as if you could implode right then and there.

Without the presence of loud moans, the room was still far from silent. There was the lewd sound of Yuta’s hips rocking into yours each time he pushed back in, and thus your weight slamming against the desk with every thrust, and you loved it. There was something dangerously arousing about it and you were in no mind to care about how obvious you were. Nothing mattered to you in that moment except for Yuta. You wanted him to continue and not stop until you’d both finished.

“Fuck,” you moaned, unable to control yourself. “Harder, please.”

Yuta teased, “Can you handle it harder, baby?”

“Yes, sir,” you squeaked. “Please? I can take it, I can take it.”

Before you could add anything else, Yuta gave in and got rougher. There was no telling if it was real or all in your head, but you swore you could feel him deeper than ever before. His hips met yours hard, pushing deeply. His death grip on you became tighter, as if you would slip away from him if he didn’t hold you as tightly as possible. Every touch of his was practically bruising, just the way you wanted it to be.

This was something Yuta thought he could do all day. Watching you take him greedily was a massive turn on and he could see it becoming one of his favorite pastimes. He loved the way your pussy swallowed him whole. He loved the way you were still desperate for more no matter how much he gave you. The way you were so compliant and eager to please. It was something he could get used to.

“You’re doing so good,” Yuta sighed, voice tickling your neck.

His praise made your knees feel weak, yet so did the sound of his voice. It was like a two for one deal, twice the amount of butterflies swarming in your stomach. The only way things could have been better was if you could see his face, but you doubted you’d survive the moment you saw his expression as he let out a groan.

Yuta lifted his hand again and slipped it underneath your shirt, meddling with your bra and finding your breasts. He gave them a squeeze and you exhaled with pleasure, loving the way his hands felt on your body. You wanted to feel him everywhere you possibly could - no spot left untouched.

Hardly any thoughts roamed in your brain and you were stripped of every ability you possessed to think. All you knew was pleasure, and you wanted more of it. More of him. He was close to you - deep inside you - but not close enough. Never deep enough. To you, there was no existing maximum. There was no brink and only one word chanted in your head. More, more, more.

“Sir, I’m close,” you whimpered out.

Even without saying, every reaction your body made in response to his touch indicated that you were on the brink of an orgasm. You were clinching around Yuta and it became harder to muffle your noises, and you were sure that your lip was bleeding, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care yet.

It was so close you could almost reach out and grab it. The pleasure you felt then was inexplicable. It felt like all your senses had been heightened to an extreme, on an inhuman level. Your body was begging him, screaming for release, needing it desperately.

Needless to say, Yuta was no better than and not far behind you. His grunts seemingly became deeper, and his thrusts became irregular. But he never stopped - he wouldn’t stop until he was there with you, over the edge.

“Come with me, baby,” Yuta growled. He was fucking you like his life depend on it.

Whatever came next was a blur. Your orgasm struck you hard, clouding your vision with white haze, and you clinched around Yuta uncontrollably. The noises that escaped your lips were unpreventable, especially when you felt his cum spill inside your walls. Your body became slug against the desk and when you snapped out of your post-orgasm headspace, you noticed your professor slow and pull out of you.

When you stood back up, you felt his cum leaking from you and trickling down your thighs, and your cheeks grew hot.

Yuta snickered and buckled his pants back up. “How do you feel?”

There was no word to describe how you felt and you were still in a state of pleasant shock. Your thighs began to feel ache from the pressure he’d inflicted on you, but you weren’t complaining. This was the highlight of your day.

“Good,” you replied, straightening out your skirt with your palms. “Sore, but good.”

He smiled wryly. “When do you tutor Taro again?”

“Thursday. He said he would meet me at your house after practice.”

“Good. Come early.”

“How early?”

“However long you can handle getting fucked,” Yuta said with a shrug.

The butterflies were back. Unable to say anything, you gave him a quick nod and prepared to leave, after you cleaned yourself up.

Who would have known that instead of going home to take care of your arousal after class, Yuta would handle it for you. And Thursday you got to do it all over again.

You couldn’t fucking wait.

Part of you wanted to run, but when you rang the doorbell, you knew that it was too late. There was nowhere to hide anymore - Yuta would be coming any moment now.

You were a hot mess of emotions, bursting at the seams with exhilaration and nerves. Of course, there was no doubt in your body that you wanted to relive having sex with your professor. It was everything you had dreamed of and more. Although you also couldn’t deny that you were worried for a billion different reasons.

Relax, you told yourself. You had no reason to worry. There was no way that anyone would find out, Shotaro was utterly clueless and although Ten was certainly aware, you knew there was no way in hell he’d tell a soul. Plus, you looked nothing short of fuckable. With how short your skirt was, Yuta would be unable to change his mind even if he wanted to.

The door swung open and revealed Yuta, who already had his eyes on your body. Without much greeting, he pulled you inside and locked the door behind you.

You squealed while he dragged you into his bedroom, impatience seeping from his calm demeanor. When he let you loose, you stood by bed rubbing your wrist while he shut the door. You complained, “What happened to greeting people?”

“Hello,” he said, walking over to you. He reached for your hand and gave your wrist a quick kiss, then added, “Now lie down for me.”

Without hesitation, you did as told, climbing onto his bed and sprawling yourself out on his mattress. You kicked off your shoes and Yuta crawled between your legs, watching you instinctively spread your legs open for him.

“Black,” Yuta growled once he noticed the color of your panties. “That’s my favorite color.”

There was no way you were strong enough for this.

Yuta tugged your panties past your ankles and tossed them on the floor in haste, starving for you and begging to know how you tasted. His mouth was on you without warning and you sucked in a deep breath the moment you felt his tongue.

To say the least, Yuta didn’t relent. His mouth was impatient, tongue making you pulse more than you already were. It ventured over you, and you cried out, thighs squeezing shut when the muscle prodded at your clit. But Yuta was completely unwilling to be deterred. He pushed your thighs back open and held them spread, and you could feel the cool sensation of his rings digging into your skin yet again.

Moans of his name tore past your lips, urging him on. Yuta took it as sheer motivation, actions unfaltering and seeming to strengthen. You could feel the corners of his lips lift in a grin. It was an ego boost seeing you grip sheets and hearing you moaning his name shamelessly loud.

Wet sounds grew louder. Yuta’s grip on you only became tighter whenever you began to squirm from the pleasure. There was no doubt in your mind that Yuta wad experienced. For as long as your body had yearned for him, no doubt had ever been present, though now that his head was between your thighs and his mouth was anything but shy of your cunt, you could tell.

“Yuta, fuck,” you cried, back in arch. “Don’t stop, please. Please don’t stop.”

Yuta raised a brow, wondering where you had gotten such an idea from. The thought of stopping had never once crossed his mind. He knew what he wanted, he knew what you wanted, and it wasn’t that. He was determined to leave you broken.

It was like nothing that you had ever felt before. People had been between your thighs a number of times before, but something about Yuta was different. There was no way for you to put your finger on it in your current state, but whatever he was doing with his tongue was making you want to scream. You knew then the pleasure he was providing you was unreplicable.

Maybe you knew that the moment you set your eyes on your professor. There was a reason you were drawn to him, wanting him in ways that were illicit. Everything about Yuta had tempted to you, head to toe. In and out. The time between then and now was unbearable. Though you made efforts to distract yourself from the man you thought to be unattainable, no one ever met your standards. And you were completely unable to commit when Yuta was the one in your head. You needed him, or someone like him.

And though you sought for the latter, you were undone.

Nothing could describe how you felt in the moment other than delirious. You were beginning to believe that Yuta had been yours in a past life, that there was no other explanation as to how he seemed perfectly aware of what to do. Then, you thought that somehow, in spite of him being your professor and the father of one of your peers, you were meant to be. It might have been crazy, but that was how you felt.

And Yuta, you drove Yuta crazy. Which felt like an understatement - everything about you made him feel insane to his core. But he couldn’t say that he didn’t like it, or that he was opposed to the feeling. The same way you were tempted by him, he was by you, and he liked having you in the most delicate of ways.

There was no way you would have known, that was if his body said nothing, but he was hooked on you. Just as much as you were hooked on him, if not even more. It wasn’t because he was lonely after his divorce and needed to chew on anything that he could bite, which was simply untrue. Anyone he wanted, man or woman, Yuta knew how to woo his way to them. Though he didn’t want you out of desperacy, he wanted you because of the way you made him feel.

That much he was still in the phase of figuring out, but he knew that it was welcome. That was all that mattered.

“Yuta, I’m so close,” you groaned, entire body begging for release.

Those four words let out a beast in Yuta. It was like he wanted to ravage you, and you found that likely to be the case. Already had he been unfaltering, but it was clear that his efforts were increasing. He wanted to bring you over the edge and he would do exactly that.

“Cum for me,” he said, detaching his mouth from you for the briefest of moments. He let his fingers occupy you while it separated. “You know you want to. Let go for me, baby girl.”

As always, you obeyed. With his mouth on your clit, there was no way that even if you wanted to, you could instruct your body to do otherwise. You let your body be overcome by pleasure, your back in an arch as your orgasm hit. You let out a lewd moan of his name, toes clenching, and Yuta let you hold - much more squeeze - his hand.

It was intense, and Yuta didn’t stop until you had finally gone slack against his mattress. When he pulled away, he could only let the beautiful sight of you fill his eyes. You laid weakly on his bed, chest heaving in result of your climax. Everything about you then screamed fucked out, and he could only look smugly at his achievement.

Watching you made him want to keep going and eat you out little longer, test how much you could handle, but it also made him hard. There was only so long that he could go resisting the urge to fuck you limp and his restraint had dissipated.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Yuta growled, and moved towards you.

All you could see in his eyes was hunger. And when he leaned in and kissed you, it was even hungrier. It was rough and impatient, as if he had been waiting for this moment his whole life.

You reciprocated, kissing him back with the same passionate and letting the heat in the room consume you whole. Yuta’s hands were greedy, clawing at both of your clothes and towing them above your heads. Whatever amount you wanted him he was sure he wanted you more, and he wasn’t ashamed to show you.

Yuta pulled apart from your lips and when you met his gaze, you knew exactly what it was that he wanted. He licked his lips at the sight of you and said, “Hands and knees.”

In an instant, you shifted your body, wiggling your hips in an attempt to make him move faster. You were stripped down to nothing but your skirt, something you realized early on he had a thing for. With how perfectly presented you were, there was no reason why he wasn’t fucking you yet.

The anticipation was killing you slowly. Yuta seemed tempted to start right then, but something delayed him. He reached for something on the bed and slipped a pillow underneath your elbows, a gesture that made your aching desire for him skyrocket.

“Fuck me, Yuta, please,” you begged. “I need to feel you.”

When you felt the head of his dick poke your entrance, you let out a sigh. You were so wet that Yuta slipped in with ease, letting out a grunt when he felt how warm and tight you were around his dick. His rings dug into your skin as his hands clung to your waist.

He begun with leisure strokes to let you accommodate his size, only becoming less shallow the more he thrusted. It was only your second time with him, but you already had a feeling that you’d never get to used to the one of how deeply he stretched you out. Yuta reached places you were unaware of existing.

“I want you,” he groaned. As if you weren’t already at his disposal. Those three words alone had you wrapped around his finger.

Breath hitching, you replied, “You have me. I’m yours - use me.”

Whatever amount of mercy he was trying to spare onto you quickly ceased once those words left your mouth, and Yuta picked up his pace, beginning to fuck you hard. You emit a moan and let him have his way with your body. After your previous encounter, he knew that you liked it rough. Your face was being dug into one of the pillows yet you had no complaints.

Neither did he. Yuta found himself admiring how you took him and the way you felt around him yet again. A welcome mixture of tight, wet, and warm that made fucking you feel like a treat. If you wanted him to use you then he was more than willing to do so.

And there was something about it being you that he was fucking that made the experience like nothing else. He was too attracted to you. As much as you thought about him, he could guarantee he thought about you all the same. In several ways, fantasizing about you in countless positions. But he was going to take his time with you. Knowing you, you weren’t one to shy away from your desires - rather cave in to them - and if he was what you wanted, then you would let him have you. Whatever he wanted, he knew you would provide the best way you knew how.

It wasn’t a one-sided thing. The more time Yuta spent around you, the more fond of you he became. He knew you would bend over backwards, forwards, and every way in between for him, and it was mutual. He was tempted to give you the world.

After all, you were the subject of his dreams. He was crazy about you, and he wouldn’t change a damn thing.

Something was bothering you. It felt good, having him like this, but there was something that you were craving. And you quickly realized that it was the urge to see Yuta’s face. You wanted to see every scrunch of his face, every falter in his expression. You wanted to see his eyes shut and watch how his lips parted as he groaned your name. You wanted to see it all - every minor detail, every fleeting face he made. That was what you desired more than anything.

You tilted your face, just so that the pillow wouldn’t muffle your sounds and called in a moan-y voice, “Yuta…,”

“Mm, baby?” Yuta answered, continuing to rock his hips into yours.

“I wanna - I wanna see your face,” you stammered, hardly able to get words out with how amazingly he was fucking you. He was enjoying the effect he had on you, needlessly to say. “Can I please see your face?”

It was impossible to tell you no. Yuta wanted to give you the world, after all. He would sacrifice his adoration for hitting you from the back if that was what it took to satisfy you. He held distaste for your muffle sounds and not being able to see the mess he was making on your own pretty face anyways.

“Whatever you want, baby girl.”

Yuta flipped you over so that you were lying on your stomach, then entered back inside you with haste. When you finally caught a glimpse of his face, sweat made his hair cling to his face and beads of it damped his skin. It was a beautiful sight you were grateful to witness.

In return, Yuta adored the fucked out daze you casted him. There was nothing he loved more than seeing you like that, in a state of evident pleasure as a result of everything he was doing to your body. He fucking loved it.

You wrapped your legs around his back, desperate to feel him deeper. Yuta only chuckled at the gesture, finding it both hot and amusing that you were so needy for him. It was typical of you to want to feel him to the extreme, you simply couldn’t have enough of him.

“Sir,” you moaned. There were no words to explain how you felt right now.

Yuta slowed his thrust and grabbed your chin, forcing eye contact. “What’s my name?”

Wide-eyed, you stammered, “Y-Yuta.”

“Say it again.”

“Yuta!” you exclaimed, moving your hips in attempts to feel his previous pace. “Yuta, Yuta.”

Yuta grinned smugly, but picked up the pace of his thrusts and said, “And I’ll make sure you don’t forget it.”

Yuta brought his hand to your clit and began rubbing you there, watching how your body responded to his touches. You began to squirm and true to his word, made you cry out his name. You felt like you were on fire, heat consuming you whole, but you wanted it all to spread. It felt too good, Yuta’s thrusts and his hands and rings on the very surface of your skin skin.

“Oh, god,” you whimpered. You needed release, you were chasing after it. It was so close, and Yuta could tell.

“How bad do you wanna cum?” Yuta asked you, growling into your ear.

“So bad. I need it. I need it, Yuta. Please,” you begged. With the sexy sounds he was making you weren’t sure you would be able to delay your orgasm any longer.

Satisfied, Yuta bobbed his head and purred, “Give it to me then, baby.”

The moment you approached your climax, Yuta gave you his hand again and you gripped it fiercely as you emitted a loud, crying string of his name. Your whole body shook with orgasm, toes clenching and your eyes closing shut as it washed over you. Yuta came inside you with a grunt, rings digging into your flesh as he held you and filled you up to the brim. When you both finally finished, you laid on his mattress, catching your breath, and he pulled out.

Yuta tilted his head and asked, “Feel good?”

“Feel great,” you chirped, smiling lazily.

He bobbed his head, smiling back and said, “You didn’t forget what I said, did you? I hope you’re not tired.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, ask if to ask him - Why? The smug look on his face added up to your confusion, and you felt like there was something you were missing.

“Baby, you came here two hours hourly. That’s how long you’re getting fucked.”

Realization creeped upon you, and you recalled the exchange you had back in his classroom. Oh, boy, you thought. He was going to ruin you.

And in all honesty, you were fine with that.

#yuta smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #yuta x reader #nct imagines #yuta imagines #yuta nakamoto smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

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moonstruckme · 18 days ago

Note

Omg wait are you looking for prince!sirius requests? I love that series but I didn't want to be pushy about it lol

What about some kind of big event for r that she's feeling some anxiety about, and she goes to sirius for help? Like she's giving a speech so she practices it with him, or they do flashcards of important people she needs to know the names of?

Thanks for requesting angel!

cw: allusions to Black family dynamics

prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 860 words

“You’ve got it,” Sirius encourages you. “I’ll give you a hint. It starts with a b, like buttmunch, which if you talk to him you’ll find is really very fitting.”

Your lips curve, but your brow remains firmly set in concentration.

“Okay, b. B…Beekman?”

“Very close.” Sirius puts the flashcard down. “Becker.”

“Damn it.” You sit back from where you’d leaned forward to peer at Becker’s face, hands clasping around your tented knees.

“Time for a break?” he suggests.

“Yeah, guess so.” You reach for the cup of tea sitting on your bedside table, rubbing beside your eyebrow.

You’re wearing pajamas again. Or, they might not be pajamas to you, but they are to Sirius. Sweatpants and a loose top that drapes off your form and looks delightfully soft. Sirius had tried to follow suit, but the closest he could get was a plain, fitted shirt and his most comfortable trousers. Sirius’ family doesn’t really believe in loungewear.

He likes that you’re not like that, though. It’s hard to know how normal the Blacks are even among royalty, but you seem less bound to any expectations besides your own than any royals he’s met. You were kind enough to lend him a pair of sweatpants when he arrived, and Sirius has never felt more spoiled.

“Sorry this is taking so long,” you say. “I was never great with names.”

“You’ll be alright,” Sirius reassures you. Though, names are sort of a big part of these dinners. Everyone wants you to know who they are, to validate their importance and make them feel like they have a close personal connection to power. Sirius is lucky; memorization comes easily to him, and he’s been kept abreast of who’s dying off and who’s getting married since he was old enough to speak. “Even if you can’t remember all of them, you can always get by with enthusiasm.”

You cock your head interestedly. “Enthusiasm?”

“You know. Goodness gracious,” he rolls his eyes, speaking with a deadpan delivery, “it is so wonderful to finally meet you. How are you, how is your family? That sort of shit.”

Your smile blooms. It really is a lovely sight, and one Sirius wishes he’d been graced with more often since meeting you. He understands why you’ve not been in particularly high spirits; after meeting an entire new family, being forced to make nice with supercilious aristocrats, and learning your family plans to marry you off without really asking for your input, Sirius wouldn’t be feeling particularly smiley either. Still, he hopes to see more of it.

“Does that really work?” you ask him.

“Course. All any of them want is to feel like you know them. Whatever accomplishes that is fine. What did the Queen tell you?”

Your smile fades, your mouth twisting instead with a dry humor. “She wasn’t around. One of her advisors just said to study the flashcards and try to talk as little as was inoffensive, whatever that means. Basically stay out of trouble, I guess.”

Sirius huffs a laugh. He can’t count how many times people have told him to stay out of trouble. He’s fairly sure he never once listened.

“Well, I think you’ll do lots better than they’re expecting.”

“Really?” Your eyes turn up to his, big and hopeful. Sirius feels his mouth curve of its own volition.

“Yeah,” he says earnestly. “Just be yourself, gorgeous. They won’t be able to leave you alone.

It’s certainly been true for Sirius. And the fact is, you could make the biggest faux pas of the century and none of those snobs would call you on it. You’re a princess.

He does genuinely believe that you could get by even without your status, though. You’re not an imposing presence, but there’s an air about you that puts people at ease. You emanate good intentions. It’s intriguing; Sirius hardly knows anything about those.

You hide a smile behind your teacup. “I thought we said no flirting when no one was around.”

“Sorry. Can’t help it. Fair warning, by the way,” he drops his voice into a more serious register, “you’ll probably have to be introduced to my parents. Now that they think you’ve agreed to their arrangement, they’ll want to meet you.”

“Oh.” You blink, lowering your tea. “Okay. I’m excited to meet them.”

So this is how you sound when you lie.

“It won’t be fun,” Sirius warns. “They’re not nice, but they probably won’t really care about speaking to you after being introduced. It ought to be short, at least.”

“Sirius,” you laugh, and it’s hard to tell whether the twitch in Sirius’ gut is from you saying his name or the sound of your laughter. Further studies will be needed. “They’re your parents. They can’t be that bad.”

Sirius heaves a sigh, flopping sideways so he’s lying across your bed. “They are.” He gives your knee a pat. “But no need to worry about that now. Ready to get back to the cards?”

“Sure.” Your posture straightens slightly, a cute, concentrated frown coming to your lips. Sirius holds up the first flashcard. “Alright. This one’s name starts with a w, like wanker.”

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vidavalor · 20 days ago

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The Movie

The most important thing is that he's gone.

If you're feeling sad that it's not the full season and would like some reassurance about the rest of the story being movie-length, though?

Based on where the story is now? They can absolutely do this in 90 minutes. Would it have been more fun if it was the whole season? Of course. But they can do this in 90 minutes-- and do it well. I think there's actually less to go in the plot in the present than we might realize. How so?

I'm pretty sure the next part of the story has never really been plotted to be Supreme Archangel Aziraphale. The end game seems to me to be a bit more they all have to overthrow Heaven to save Aziraphale and that's how they save the world. Meaning, that was Satan with the coffee in The Final 15 and Aziraphale's fall is the plot. The kickoff here in the movie would be the same as it would have been if we had a full S3: the audience gets the hinted at 2.06 twist revealed in full right near the start when they see Aziraphale get to Heaven and be thrown to Hell by The Metatron. The other characters then quickly learn what's happened to Aziraphale. They band together to challenge Heaven--that's the whole Powell & Pressburger's 'A Matter of Life and Death' trial & how it fits into things.

Aziraphale won't accept a verdict that's just for him and not Crowley as well and the process of all of this winds up exposing and overthrowing The Metatron and Hell, freeing the demons. (Gabriel gets his suit back and is their lawyer, you just know it lol.) By coming together to save Aziraphale, the characters fix Heaven/Hell, which then saves Earth and permanently stops the threat of Armageddon. The remainder of the time is wrap up where Crowley & Aziraphale work through what's happened and then head to the South Downs.

All of that stuff in the present that I just said can actually be done inside of an hour, tops. Especially because no one has to set up the characters and story like they would if this were a stand-alone film. They can just dive straight in. That still leaves at least a half-hour--if not a bit more, depending-- for flashing us back to whatever we need to see that supports what's happening in the present (The Vavoom, 1941, probably Jane Austen, likely one or two other things we don't know we need to see yet). More than likely? This is a series of scenes like the S1 cold open more than it is a longer, single-era, flashback minisode. I don't think anyone would complain about another cold open-like sequence? 😊

The movie can work. For perspective? Look at the chart below.

We are at the Big Twist that is The Act II Climax & it's really almost fully done already. All that's left in that Big Twist is to just overtly tell it to the audience because The Final 15 already did all hinting the set up work for it.

As you can see, we're really just moments away from everyone regrouping for the big, final push of the story-- the Act III Climax/overthrowing Heaven-- before we're into the South Downs Cottage ending. This is one of the reasons why I think that S1 showed us Monday-Sunday of The Last Week of the World: Round One with Armageddon being stopped on Saturday but S2 revealed we were watching The Last Week of the World: Round Two... but then stopped the season early on Friday morning. S3, imho, has always been going to pick up within hours of where the 2.06 cliffhanger ended and show us the mirrored Saturday & Sunday of this week that we still have out there.

They won't need to set up at the start of the film where characters are years later because the S2 story we were watching was always written for S3 to pick up basically right where the S2 cliffhanger leaves off. S3 was always going to continue directly the story of S2 rather than come at the story from a place of a dead stop of years having gone by. I think the best way to look at the movie might be as if it is really the S2 finale. Think of it as if S2 actually has 8 episodes but we've only seen 6 of them so far and we're still awaiting the last two.

Each season of the show, in and of itself, follows that above Three Act Structure, even if the overall series of Good Omens is also following it for its overall story as well. Think back on the last two episodes of S1, which would then be similar in some structural elements and in pacing to this movie.

The Act III Climax in S1 is Armageddon being stopped in Tadfield. That will be overthrowing Heaven in the movie. The Obstacle that followed in S1 as a result of stopping Armageddon and which led into the wrap-up conclusion was Heaven & Hell coming after Crowley & Aziraphale/the body swap plot. When Crowley and Aziraphale solved those obstacles-- in short time, as this is part of the wrap-up-- we then left them dining at The Ritz on Sunday afternoon. These episodes were a very clear-cut example of what an Act III in Three Act Structure within a season looks like and it is likely-- structurally-- going to be very similar to what the model for the finale movie will be. The pacing will be a lot alike, just with some flashbacks in the mix.

Think about how little time it actually took to stop Armageddon once everyone was in Tadfield-- and that most of the finale was just getting characters who had already been set up earlier in the story to Tadfield for that to happen. That's about how much time it's going to take them to overthrow Heaven in the movie. We've actually already watched most of the set up in the story to get to that place in S2. Then, think about how the Obstacles part in S1 was the body swap plot... but how that same type of obstacle wouldn't exist in the S3 movie. Why?

Because this movie is going to stop Armageddon permanently by overthrowing Heaven & Hell. Unlike in S1, when Crowley and Aziraphale were still being targeted, they're going to be truly free for the first time ever by this same point in the S3 movie. So, what are the Obstacles then? Their own stuff. This is where we would get the scenes of two of them having the chance to fully talk through The Final 15 of S2 and, in the process, understand where everything went wrong and have the South Downs Cottage then be the happy ending.

There's plenty of space for this in the story because this is where it's all leading and the part about overthrowing Heaven and Hell-- that Act III Climax that sets up this ending? Going into the movie after where S2 left off, we're actually only a heartbeat away from it already.

This is all very do-able within 90 minutes, with plenty of room for things like The Vavoom and 1941. It might not be the full season that we hoped for but the story is in a way better place to wrap this up with a movie than most shows in this position would be.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens 3 #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens theory #good omens season 3

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 1 month ago

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Epilogue: True Love Is Hard To Find

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 the epilogue of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series.

Word Count: 12.2K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this one 18+ because it's Soldier Boy. Vomiting, Dark/Depressing thoughts, Heartbreak, FLUFF, FLUFF, and oh did I mention FLUFF, Sexual innuendo, Self-deprecating thoughts, Drinking, Cursing, Some references to past trauma, References to past sex, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the 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

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Song lyrics are bold, italics, and are in red. The lyrics come from "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love," by Russ Colombo (can be found at the link). This is the song I based the series on and it really is wonderful to listen to.

A/N: Well guys, we made it. Just remember that this isn't goodbye, it's I'll see you in a little while.

Five Months Later…

"Is it time to go yet?" Ben murmurs into your ear, his breath rustling against the hair he tucked carefully behind it moments ago, his hand pressing into the small of your back.

The sounds of clinking glasses, laughter, and small chatter ebb and flow over the crowded art gallery, the white walls a subtle backdrop to the colorfully dressed people, waiters, and the canvases that hang on the walls.

Women in elegant dresses stand at different sized paintings while men dressed in casual suits and ties stand beside them in stoic contemplation, their eyes following the gentle brushstrokes that cover the canvases hanging in succession against the bland backdrop.

Waiters dressed in simple suits with silver trays of food and pastries weave through the crowded room, offering treats to whomever they stop by, while a bartender sits at a large wooden bar designed to fit into the venue serving drinks to patrons and pouring multicolored liquids into glasses.

It had been five months since Ben came back, five months since you said goodbye to Homelander, and five of the happiest months of your life.

The first month following Ben's return, you had taken him to the house in Maine, figured that you both could use a vacation and spent your days sunning on the beach together and curled up in bed making up for the time that you lost when Ben was gone. You weren't complaining, not when every day you felt the same way as when you'd woken up the day after your birthday, not when each time Ben kissed you felt like the first time, and not when every time he touched you it felt like you were filled with sunlight. You felt warmer, lighter, happier, and being with him was even more wonderful than you remember.

Every day was fused with wonder and expectation and every night Ben made you feel more loved than you ever had. You were so blissfully happy that you had forgotten the past and were excited for what the future would hold for the two of you.

Lou, Rosemary, and Ryan had come after a few weeks to spend time with Ben and you at the house. Lou was ecstatic that Ben was staying in your lives and spent every moment with him on the beach having him help her make sandcastles and look for shells and shiny rocks that were rubbed smooth by the waves.

Rosemary was still icy towards Ben, but you knew that she was starting to get used to him being around. All you hoped was that one day she would warm up to him, but it was a little less awkward between the two of them. She was at least calling him by his name and she could stand to be in the same room as him. When Ben read the paper in the mornings at the breakfast table off of the large kitchen at the house, Rosemary drank her coffee quietly and read through a paperback, you painted in your watercolor pad absentmindedly, and Lou tried her best to copy you all the while making small talk with Ryan who sat beside her.

Ryan was living in the spare room in Rosemary's apartment and despite being corrected, Lou referred to Ryan as her older brother every chance she got, something that always made Ryan brush bright red. At first Rosemary and you had been wary about bringing in a blossoming teenager in to her home, not to mention a blossoming teenager that had the ability to level a small building if he wanted to, but Ryan seemed to like living there and he didn't cause any unnecessary trouble. Butcher came by every week to take Ryan out of the apartment to give Rosemary a break and Ryan was always happy to go with him.

That was something you weren't sure about. Yes, you liked that Butcher had such a big influence in Ryan's life, but you didn't like how often he came by. You weren't sure you trusted him with what he knew about Lou's powers that only seemed to grow by the day since their development. Every time Lou watched something with a supe in it she started exhibiting a new ability, but she seemed to be able to turn them on and off at will.

Which was good. She also seemed to understand the idea that it wasn't good to show them in public. There were a few slip ups, for example when Ben and you took Lou for ice cream one day. she got so excited when she received the cone that she started levitating a few inches off the ground and another time she threw a temper tantrum at the grocery store and stomped her foot so aggressively against the ground that the entire building shook.

The looks she got when she did both of those things were the same looks you got when Lou called Ben and you "grandpa" and "grandma" in public.

But she was doing better and with Rosemary's ability to touch Lou and get the power Lou was exhibiting, Rosemary had been able to show Lou how to control some of the abilities better than others.

Ryan also helped. He was old enough to babysit Lou when there was no one else, comforting because now that Lou had powers you didn’t trust anyone else to be around her and didn't trust that Vought had forgotten. Ryan was just starting school, a school just a few blocks from Rosemary’s apartment where he could feel like a real kid, and was already struggling through math. When he asked Ben for help Ben had replied that Ryan didn’t need it and the only thing Ryan should focus on was sports.

Ben was no longer allowed to offer Ryan education advice and Butcher and you both tried your best to help Ryan with math instead. You’d also told Ryan not to listen to someone who got kicked out of every boarding school he ever went to, which only made Ben smack you on the ass and say "it takes one to know one" while Rosemary mimed vomiting in the kitchen.

You had asked Rosemary if she wanted to get a new apartment, big enough for everyone so you could be around 24/7 to help her, but she’d complained and said that she was too old to be living with her parents.

She was right, but you still tried your best to be around to give her a break whenever she needed one.

Of course it wasn’t all good in those five months.

Rosemary quit her job at the hospital after everything happened with Homelander and didn’t tell you that she’d gotten a new one working with Butcher on his team. When you’d confronted her about it she’d told you that it wasn’t a big deal, but to you it was. You had spent the past 40 years of Rosemary’s life keeping all the supe shit separate, but now she was diving in head first. You’d had a fight, a bad one, one of the worst the two of you had ever had and you’d spent three days in bed crying to Ben who held you tight and didn’t let you go. When Rosemary had finally showed up three days later, her own eyes red and rimmed with dark circles beneath you knew she was just as upset as you were. And then she told you why she did it.

It wasn’t because of Butcher, it was because of Homelander.

Rosemary was guilty, frustrated with herself because she had been unable to keep Lou safe from him. Rosemary said that she felt like she had been hiding her entire life, turning her back on a piece of herself, and that she needed to do this. She felt like a failure, worthless, and that she needed to embrace who she really was. So you tried to be supportive all the while contemplating if you should follow her on missions to make sure that she was okay.

But that seemed a little obsessive so you held yourself back.

It was going well and honestly, Rosemary seemed happy. Not to mention Butcher liked having her around for medical assistance if there was a problem in the field.

Ben was working for Butcher too, something else you also didn't agree with, but at least now you didn't have to worry about Rosemary as much. You knew that Ben wouldn't let anything happen to her, but you also didn't love that you now had both of them to worry about. Sometimes you thought about working for Butcher too, but after everything that happened with Homelander, Stan, Noir, and your old team, you were happy to immerse yourself in your art again, to dive in to your creativity and let it wash away any of your worries and pain that rose in the aftermath of the everything that had happened five months ago.

You'd told Ben that he didn't have to work, told him that the both of you had more than enough money for a few centuries, but for Ben it was bigger than that. He wanted to work, thought that it was his job to provide for the both of you, his job to take care of you, and you didn’t want to argue with him about that. It was difficult to say no to him, not when he was just as happy as you were, and not when he was giving you everything you said you wanted all those years ago the night you saved Noir. He had given you a home, someone who loves you, and someone to come home to and it was more wonderful than you could have ever imagined. He gave you everything he promised and more.

Sometimes when you were together, he'd get a look on his face like he had no idea how it happened, and you weren't too sure either, but you were so happy that you didn't care. The things you'd daydreamed about all those years ago, of Ben and you living together and being in love dulled in comparison to the real thing. You'd never seen Ben smile as much as you had in the past five months, never seen him so full of life and happiness in all the years you'd known him, and you wanted him to be that way every day for the rest of his life.

And you had never been as inspired to paint as you were now, hence the art show Ben and you were currently attending.

Rosemary, Lou, and Ryan were taking it easy for the evening and you didn’t blame them. Rosemary had just come back from an overnight trip with Butcher's team from somewhere in the South and stated she needed to relax. You’d graciously offered to take Ryan and Lou with you, but she’d waved you off. Said that it was alright and that Ben and you should enjoy yourselves.

You think that working together also helped Ben and Rosemary get more comfortable interacting, but there was still some tension that you hoped would fade in the coming years. It was better than it had been. You were also worried about them working with Butcher's team because of what you'd done to them at Vought, but so far there didn't seem to be a problem. In fact, Rosemary and Annie were becoming friends, which made you happy because Rosemary had friends, but none who she could be one hundred percent honest with about who you were and the powers she had. With Annie, Rosemary didn't have to pretend.

Grace Mallory called every week to check in and keep you updated on Homelander's progress. He was still the same as he had been five months ago, but she was getting a new doctor to come take a look at him, someone who was well versed in memory loss and you hoped he was able to figure it out. Not that you really wanted old Homelander to come back, but because you didn't know where to go from here. You knew that if Homelander ever got out, the first thing he would do was find Compound V, and then come after your family. But it still felt weird to kill someone who didn't remember the things they had done.

Sometimes you wished that it could have been different, but if this was how it always ended up you wouldn't change a thing, because it meant that you might not be here with Ben.

You smile up at Ben, adjusting his dark tie with a steady hand and smoothing out the collar of his black suit. "We've been here for twenty minutes. And it was you that wanted to come to my show."

Ben grins. "Maybe I just wanted to see you all dressed up sweetheart. Have I told you how beautiful you look?"

He had, several times before you left your apartment. Not to mention you'd walked out of the bedroom and into the living room Ben had all but tackled you onto the couch and made the both of you late because you had to redo your makeup.

Your dress was maroon, backless, and had capped sleeves that fell off your shoulders to curve just over your biceps. It was cinched at the waist and fell elegantly to your feet that were encased in a pair of black heels that made you almost tall enough to reach Ben's shoulders. There was a new necklace hanging around your neck, one that Ben had gotten you for your one month anniversary. It was a kite cut emerald about the size of the end of your pinky. You still had the pearl necklace that Noir had stolen from you, but now when you looked at it, you felt sad and didn't remember your father. Not to mention the pearl necklace that Ben gave you as a replacement was still in pieces from the night that you both wanted to forget.

So he'd gotten you this one and you loved it, because it reminded you of Ben's beautiful eyes, the same ones that were focused on you right now, shining in the light of the gallery.

Ben looked better than you did, then again you always thought he did. He was wearing a sharp black suit with a crisp white shirt and a black tie. Every time you looked at him you couldn't believe he was all yours. You wondered if he felt that way whenever he looked at you.

"I can't leave early, it’s my party remember? It would be rude to-"

He leans in again, his hand tightening on your waist. "I'd much rather take you home and congratulate you myself."

Ben doesn't miss the shiver that travels down your spine with his words, eyes shifting to the goosebumps that erupt on your arms. "Come on doll, I could go get the car right now." He purrs pressing a kiss just under your left ear, feeling your resolve begin to waver, which was already hanging by a thread. Ben never needed to do much to persuade you, but you noticed that when it came to you Ben also had a hard time saying no. And you loved how easily you worked him.

“Didn’t you congratulate me before we left?” You murmur kissing along his sharp jaw. “And this morning?” You drag your hands up his chest feeling a low groan vibrate through his rib cage. “And last night?”

“Are you complaining doll?” His eyes glint mischievously, smirk pulling at the end of his lips.

“No. Because I happen to like congratulating you too.”

“Good, because I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting to congratulate you.” Ben nudges his nose against yours, before fitting his soft lips over your mouth. The subtle scratch of his well trimmed beard tickles against your cheeks as he deepens the kiss, his hand pressed against the small of your back, securing you against his strong body.

It was moments like this that made you want to melt into him, to let him take everything you were, and everything he was and mold them together as one. Ben was everything to you and now that you knew what it was like to have him not be in your life, you were never going to let him go.

"Ben." You smile, gently laying your hand on his cheek, feeling the coarse hairs of his beard scratch against your palms. "Please, just another hour at least."

"Sweetheart-"

You stand up on tip toe, so you can whisper in his ear while holding tight to his right shoulder. "Baby please. One more hour and then you'll have me all to yourself."

"Promise?" Ben murmurs, eyes darkening with your proposition.

"I promise."

Ben smiles pleased, and turns back to survey the crowds chattering about the paintings you had done, his arm wrapped around your waist.

The different sized canvases on the wall were awash with colors. The theme was "Out With the Old and In With the New," inspired by a trip Ben and you had taken to Philadelphia, but also you saw it as a new beginning, a way for the two of you to shake off the shadow of the past and move into the future together. He'd wanted to see how much Philadelphia had changed and you hadn’t been there since your brother’s funeral.

The two of you had spent the week going to places you knew all too well before you became supes. Some of the buildings were still there, while others had vanished into obscurity. Ben's family estate was still just as you remembered it. He was still technically the owner, but you didn't want to make him stay there, not when you knew about the scars that clung to the walls and creeped along the staircases. He had stepped foot inside, the musty smell wafting out through the open doors, the dust swirling in clouds with every unsure step he took. Ben's father had died a few years before Ben went to Russia, and despite all the ways Ben disappointed him, Ben's father still left him everything.

When Ben stood just in the entryway of the mansion you could see the weight settle on his shoulders once more, the weight his father put there and pressed into him. The last time the two of you had been there was when Ben's father died, but you hadn't been able to comfort Ben the way you wanted to then. This time you took him into your arms and pressed his head into your shoulder, trailing your fingers into his hair, and holding him close to you. Ben put it up for sale before the two of you left, and you were more than happy to see it go.

Your family home was still standing, but inhabited by your distant relatives from your brother's side of the family. You hadn't tried to make a connection with them since you vanished forty years ago and didn't want to insert yourself into their lives now. You had everything you needed, you had a family, and you had Ben.

The canvases on the walls were born from what you found remaining in Philadelphia, the city that rose from the one you used to know so well. Each painting was an amalgamation of your memories of the Philadelphia from your youth painted in shades of gray and what replaced it, rose from the canvas in splashes of bold color as if rising from the ashes. It was one of your best shows, and judging by the chatter you had heard and how excited your agent and the curator was you knew that there weren't many canvases left over. Your favorite was hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room, the centerpiece of the entire show.

It was painted from the memory of the day Ben and you sat on the warm soft grass by the pond at Fairmount park. In the painting two people sat on the bank, the boy half turned to stare at the girl with a flower tucked into his jacket pocket and the girl half turned, her face pointed down focusing on a watercolor pad in her lap while her hair fell forward, but the audience could still see her smile and the boy's smirk. They sat in a haze of black and white while the new park swirled out from them in bold colors.

Ben hadn't seen it until you showed up to the gallery a few moments before the show opened. You'd kept it a surprise, only working on it whenever he was working, and his reaction was worth it. As soon as he saw it Ben had stopped dead in his tracks just within the front doors as if he couldn't believe it, his gaze focused on the picture. You'd asked him if he liked it and in response he had grabbed you and kissed you so fiercely in front of your agent and the curator that both of them walked away to give you some privacy. You were still buzzing from that kiss, well, the kiss and what Ben had done to you on the couch before you left your apartment together.

"I'm going to go get a drink." Ben glances in the direction of the bar before looking back at you. "Do you want something?"

"No, I'm okay right now. Thanks though."

He presses a kiss into the top of your head before he vanishes into the crowd. You prepare yourself for the wave of loss you feel whenever Ben leaves. It had only gotten worse after months of spending time together. When he went out of town it was almost unbearable, but he did try his best to keep you posted, by calling you whenever he could. Sometimes you worried that you needed him too much, that he thought you were being too clingy, but every time you tried to consciously pull back it was Ben that always doubled his efforts to be around you, almost as if he was trying to make up for you toning it down. It reassured you that Ben wanted you there and genuinely wanted to spend time with you.

"Y/n!" You hear a familiar voice say and you turn your head to see your friend Levi making his way through the crowd. His dark curly hair hangs over his shoulders in gentle waves and he's wearing a black button down shirt that he's rolled up to his elbows revealing the patchwork of ink covering every square inch of his golden skin. Levi was also an artist that showed at the gallery, which is how the two of you met. Over the years you had each gone to each other's shows and then out to dinner to celebrate. He was a good friend, but you knew he had feelings for you.

You had forgotten that he was going to be here, hadn't thought about it, and hadn't told Ben. An important thing that you should have told him because Levi is the man that you'd almost slept with.

It had almost happened two years ago and you had come to Levi's show, a collection of recycled sculptures that had stunned New York City. The two of you had gone out to dinner as you always did and after, Levi had leaned in to kiss your cheek to say goodbye, but you'd turned at the wrong moment and he'd caught your lips. The both of you had frozen outside the darkened restaurant, the sounds of the city rising around you, his dark brown eyes catching and holding your gaze. You don't know why you did it, maybe because you'd been lonely for so long or maybe because Rosemary had told you that you needed to start trying again, that she was worried about you being alone, so you kissed Levi.

You weren't sure how you ended up back at his apartment in his bed, but you'd stopped him just before you had sex. You told him that you couldn't do that, that you didn't think that you could be what he wanted, and that you were sorry. It had felt wrong to give him hope, only to take all away again. For you to do that had reminded you of the hope Ben had given you when you finally slept with him and how hollow you were when he broke your heart and told you that you meant nothing.

You refused to do that to someone else.

Levi had been confused, but he'd respected you, told you that you didn't have to apologize for anything. Unfortunately since then it had been a little bit awkward, because you knew he still had feelings for you, not to mention he'd seen you naked.

"Levi!" You smile back at him

He pulls you in for a hug, holding on to you for a second longer than he should. "How are you? I haven't seen you around and you didn't come to my show. I was worried."

"Oh I was out of town for a little bit." You wave a hand. "Kinda last minute."

"Oh. Well, I guess you weren't too busy for this." He gestures to the canvases on the walls. "They're gorgeous. I think this is my favorite show of yours."

"You say that after every show."

"And you say that at every one of my shows."

"Because it's true." You roll your eyes at Levi. "Your work gets better with age-"

"I could say the same thing to you." Levi runs a hand through his tangled dark hair. "Come on, you have to tell me the truth."

"What?"

"Were you an art prodigy or something? You can't be much older than me and your work is just insanely mind-altering."

If only he knew.

"Nope. I've just been practicing a long time." You smile to yourself at the inside joke.

"So unfair. I hate you, you know that right." Levi grins.

"Oh please. If anything I should hate you. I've never been good with sculpture."

"I told you that I would be available for lessons anytime."

"I'll think about it."

Levi glances around the room at all the people. "You know, I think they make a bigger deal about your shows than mine."

"Green isn't a good color on you Levi." You snort at him.

He only smiles. "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

You freeze. It was the same thing that Ben had asked you moments ago before Levi showed up. Except when Ben said it you couldn’t help but smile and blush, but when Levi said it, it just was weird. "No. But it's alright." You smile awkwardly.

"Did you-" He clears his throat sensing the shift in conversation. "Did you want to get dinner after your show?"

The two of you hadn't had dinner since the incident two years ago, instead you had gone for coffee, because it felt less intimate and more like something the two of you could do as friends. You didn’t think that you would fall into bed with him if you were fully caffeinated. But it still made you feel bad because you thought you were leading him on, even when you told him exactly what you wanted.

"I know we haven’t in a while, but I miss you." Levi's eyes soften. "I know that what happened was a little awkward, but we can still be friends. Or maybe we can talk this out and you can tell me why you think doing this would be bad.” He gestures between the two of you. “Because we have so much in common and I really like you. And I think you do like me, but you just won't admit it-“

"Levi-" You begin to say, trying to think of a way to let him down easy, again, because he still didn’t seem to understand.

Ben's muscular arm weaves around your waist, pulling your hips back into his where he stands behind you as soon as you begin to answer, the warmth of his body like a shock to your system. He's got a glass of scotch in his free hand and he's staring at Levi with an unreadable expression.

Ben kisses you on the cheek, lingering for a second too long for it to be casual, blatantly marking his territory.

"What did I miss?" Ben says it as if he couldn’t hear the entire conversation from the bar, but you knew he had.

Levi’s eyes widen at Ben’s appearance and flick to you as if looking for an answer. Ben downs the glass in one gulp, placing it on the tray of a waiter who passes by.

“Ben, this is my friend Levi. Levi this is-“

You hesitate for a moment. Calling Ben your boyfriend felt wrong sometimes. Your relationship felt different to just say that he was your boyfriend, it didn’t seem to be enough, not to mention you felt like Ben was a little old to be your boyfriend, just as you felt a little old to be his girlfriend. Calling him your everything felt more appropriate, but it was too intimate for someone to know other than Ben.

“Ben.” Ben says extending his free hand to grasp Levi’s in a death grip, and you see Levi wince sightly when Ben tightens his grip. “Her husband.”

If you’d been drinking something you would have done a spit take right then and there. The word coming out of Ben’s mouth was foreign and so out of the blue the two of you might as well be swimming in the middle of a cobalt colored sea. The two of you hadn't spoken about that at all. It had never come up in conversation, even when the two of you took a walk around Rosemary's block and passed a jewelry store with a display of engagement rings. In fact the only time that you'd mentioned that you wanted to marry someone was the night that Ben almost killed Noir forty years ago and Ben made a joke about the two of you getting married. It had hurt when he did, it felt like he was mocking you, like he thought that it wasn't important.

That night you'd asked Ben if he wanted to marry someone and he said "maybe." You weren't sure if that was because Ben didn't believe in marriage or if he thought it wasn’t necessary, but to you things like that were important. You were old-fashioned and you wanted to marry Ben, you wanted to be his wife, but Ben hadn't proposed or stated that he wanted to marry you.

That could be your insecurity about being too clingy or your insecurity that Ben would pull away from you rising all over again, but you weren't sure if Ben cared about being your husband.

And yes maybe you were expecting a proposal sometime in the future, but it still hadn't happened and a part of you was worried that because it had not happened yet, it never would. Mostly because you couldn't think of what he was waiting for. He'd said that he never wanted to leave you ever again, told you that he wanted to give you everything you wanted, told you that he'd never love anyone else the way that he loved you, and yet there hadn't been talk to marriage. Not to mention you had told him that you loved him and that you'd never leave him and that you couldn't live without him.

Yes, you were living together, sharing a bank account, and spending every waking moment of your lives together, but there had been no discussion about him marrying you.

Which is odd because why did he tell Levi that we were married? Was he just trying to think of something official to make him back off?

Levi's eyes widen with the word "husband" his eyes darting to you in surprise. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that you got married, congratulations." It doesn't sound sincere, but if Ben hears the insincerity, he ignores it.

"Thanks Levi." Ben smiles wider, pulling you tighter against his side. "It's fairly recent. We're still in that Honeymoon Phase, you know how it is." Ben's smile turns more into a smirk. "Kinda hard to leave the apartment if you know what I mean, champ. Could barely get her to this thing."

Your entire face flushes bright red in embarrassment, struck speechless. You knew Ben better than anyone and you knew that he was doing this because he was jealous, but it didn’t make it any less embarrassing or any less Levi's business what Ben and you did in your apartment. Ben also didn't have anything to be jealous about, Levi was nothing compared to him, no one was compared to Ben, not when you were children and not now. You were sure that you'd told him that over and over again.

"Oh-um-" Levi clears his throat awkwardly, his own cheeks the same color of crimson of yours. "Yeah, well-"

"But if you still want to have dinner, I'm sure my wife and I could work out something." Ben smiles enjoying how frazzled Levi is.

You try not to flinch when Ben says the word "wife." "Ben-" You begin, hoping to give Levi a way out.

"Well, I'll have to check my schedule. I've got a show coming up and well-" Levi fumbles. "I'll see you." He turns and vanishes into the crowd of people flocking to your paintings.

Ben chuckles to himself. "He couldn't get out of here fast enough could he?"

You don't answer him. Ben's arm is around your waist, the warmth of his skin diffusing through his suit jacket and your dress into your body, but you don't feel the comfort you did when he first put it around you.

"You didn't have to do that." You say.

"Yes I did. He was trying to come on to my girl and we both know how much I hate sharing sweetheart." Ben replies light heartedly and you can hear the smile in his voice.

"Uh-huh." You look up at him. "So, I'm your wife? Funny I don't remember our wedding."

Ben's smile fades for a minute, clearing his throat. "He wants to fuck you. I was just trying to-"

"He's my friend Ben. We've been friends since I started showing in this gallery."

"He asked you to dinner."

"We've been to dinner before. We sometimes go out after the shows." You reply vaguely.

“You went out with him?” His eyebrows furrow together in confusion.

“No. We had dinner as friends. I recall you and I having dinner as friend a lot.” You say, not about to admit to Ben that you almost slept with Levi. You knew that particular piece of information was unneeded and would only upset him.

“That’s different!” Ben scoffs.

“Why is that different?” You pull back from him, letting his arm fall from your waist as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Because we both already were in love with one another!” Ben says it matter-of-factly as if it's the most obvious answer in the entire world.

"What? That doesn't make it a date!"

Wait, did he think that all those times we went to dinner were dates? Has Ben just been thinking that we were going out all these years? Is he freaking crazy? He doesn't have a right to think that way, not when he was sleeping his way through every major city in America.

"Yes it does."

"So you're telling me all those years that we spent together we were dating? And that you chasing after every woman who crossed your path was you what? Us having an open relationship?"

Ben narrows his eyes. "That's not what I'm saying."

"I mean, it kind of is. You think that just because we loved one another and went out to get food it was a date."

"No. I mean that it's different because you loved me and I loved you!"

"Ben-"

“Did you fuck him?” Ben's jaw locks, anger flashing in his eyes as he changes the subject.

Your mouth drops open in shock. "What? No. I told you that I've never been with anyone else, only you. I wouldn't lie about something like that-"

Does he really think that I would lie about that?

Ben's body stiffens and you see the dots connect inside his mind, green eyes hardening to a solid chunk of unyielding jade. "Is that the guy you almost slept with?" His gaze turns murderous.

"Ben-"

Ben's head swivels to glare at where Levi is standing across the room from the two of you speaking to someone else about his work. You can practically see the gears turning in Ben's head as he thinks of all the ways that he can kill him.

Truthfully you knew that Ben had a tendency to get jealous, had known it since the night Howard and you were dancing together, but you didn’t think that he deserved to be jealous about this.

I thought he was dead. I was trying to move on.. AND I didn’t sleep with him. Not to mention Ben and I weren't together. It's not like I was cheating on him or something.

"Why are you getting so angry? I wasn't cheating on you, we weren't together. And I didn't sleep with him."

"But he fucking touched you." Ben growls, his eyes narrowing at the back of Levi's head and you know that if Ben had laser vision Levi would be dead.

"He touched me two years ago! You're being ridiculous. I didn't go on a murder rampage through New York City whenever you slept with someone. If I did that there wouldn't be anymore women left in the state of New York."

"I am not being ridiculous!" He snaps eyes flashing back to you.

"Okay you've got to calm down."

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down."

"I don't understand why you're getting so angry about something that didn't happen. Not to mention it's me that has the right to be angry!"

"Why?"

"Because this," You wave your hand around the gallery. "Is my job and that," You point at Levi "Is kind of my coworker and you embarrassed me!"

"What? How the fuck did I embarrass you?" Ben was trying to keep his voice down, but you knew that it was becoming difficult for him.

"Well, call me crazy, but I don't want to talk about my sex life with someone else. Not to mention you had no right to lie to him. I get that you get jealous, but what you did was uncalled for."

"What in the actual fuck are you talking about?" His hands are clenched into fists at his sides so tightly that the skin stretched tight over his knuckles is white.

"We aren't married Ben. We live together. Those are two different things."

"It's not that different." Ben's shoulders fall and you see something flash for just a moment in his eyes that looks like disappointment.

Does he really think that living together and being together is the same as being marriage? As making a life-long commitment to someone? I mean I want to be married to him because I want to make that promise to him, want to bind myself to him because he's the only man that I've ever loved and I ever will love. I want to be his wife because I can't see my life without him in it.

"It is to me."

"But-"

"But what?" You scoff.

"Well we-" Ben's eyebrows furrow as he tries to find the right words, but he comes up empty handed.

"The only time that you've ever brought up marriage was when you were drunk off your ass on my couch after Noir, when you brought up Howard and then made a joke about the two of us getting married!"

"I mean, it wasn't completely a joke and I told you that I wasn't that drunk." Ben frowns. "And that doesn’t mean anything!"

"What do you mean it doesn’t mean anything? To me it does. Making that promise to someone, making a vow to them, binding yourself to them and saying those words aloud in front of everyone you love to someone means something to me. And I've told you that. I've told you what I wanted." You look up at him for a moment, before you realize something. It creeps along your skin like the first frost on a window pane. "Wait, are you saying that the idea of marriage doesn't mean anything to you? That you don't want to marry me?"

"Sweetheart wait a minute." Ben reaches out for you, but you take a shaky step back from him.

“What are we doing?”

“Huh?”

“I mean really. What are we doing?" Your voice is barely a whisper, but you know that Ben can hear you. Emotion makes your voice wobble as you stand there and look at him. He looks just as devastatingly handsome as he always does, but something lurks in his eyes that you can't place.

Deep down you had believed that Ben wanted to marry you, but maybe he was just waiting for the right moment, but now you weren't sure. Based on everything he'd said in the last minute you were starting to think that Ben didn't want to marry you.

If marriage doesn't mean anything to him, then does that mean he doesn't want to marry me? And then where is this going? I know that I want to get married and if he doesn't does that mean I'm not his forever?

"What do you mean?" The look on his face shifts into something else, something that looks surprisingly like fear, and to see that on Ben's face was physically jarring.

"If we're not going to get married then why are doing this? Why are we-" You look around the room, suddenly cold. "Ben, why are we together?"

You knew that you loved Ben more than anything and that you wanted to be apart of his life forever, that you wanted Ben to be your always. You wanted to say those words to Ben, to make that vow to love and cherish him for the rest of your life, but he didn't want to make them to you. Suddenly you felt like the stupid little girl that lived in Philadelphia and always did what you were told the one that watched her best friend make out with girls like Missy Callahan and longed to be with him.

"Sweetheart-" Ben says, stepping forward to touch you again, but you pull away from him. "Wait-" The tone of his voice is thick with emotion, gruff, just a rumble.

“I think you should leave." You say it, but your voice sounds hollow and far away.

It was the first time that you’d told him to leave since the night he came back to you, the first time since he came back that you wanted to be alone. You wanted to think this over, because now that you knew how he felt about marriage all you could think of is the possibility of spending years together only to be traded out by a newer model because Ben never wanted to marry you.

The people around you laughing and chatting at each of your paintings all of a sudden seem to be mocking you. Their happiness and joy taunting the warring heartbreak and hurt that swirls in the pit of your stomach. You feel your mind begin to slip into the memory of when you walked out of the bathroom at the night of the premiere, when you wove through the people who were so happy to be there while your heart was breaking. When it felt like your world was ending, and honestly, the feeling that you have now feels almost too similar to ignore.

"No I want to talk about this. I don’t want to leave.”

"I want you to." You lock eyes with him, fighting the urge to cry. "I need some time and I don't think it's a good idea for you to be here right now."

"But-" Ben's eyes haven't left you.

"Please go."

"Sweetheart-“

“No." You say sharply. "I think it would be better if you just went home. You wanted to anyway.” You let out a shaky breath, feeling your heart squeeze in your chest. "And this isn't the place for us to talk about this."

“Not because I didn’t want to be with you. I wanted to go home with you.” He emphasizes and reaches for your hand, but you move it away from him. Ben winces as if it hurts for him to be unable to touch you. Given what he'd confessed to you in the past you knew it was true.

“No I-“ You shake your head, tears burning against your eyes. “I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?”

“I can’t be with you if I’m not your forever. If you don't want to marry me. I-” Your eyes lock with his, hurt and heartbreak clamping around your heart in a vice. “So please just go.”

"Let me explain."

"No. I need to be alone."

“Sweetheart-“

“How many times do I have to say it? I want you to leave!”

The people around you turn to look at where Ben and you are standing, hearing your final words ring in the air between the two of you.

Ben freezes, something vulnerable crossing over his face before his expression hardens into the one that was more familiar. “Fine.”

And as he walks away, weaving through the people that stand at every canvas, you try not to feel the pit open up beneath your feet ready to swallow your broken heart whole.

When you get home the apartment is cold and dark, the shadows of your living room lengthening with every step you take towards the dark hallway and what lies beyond. Hurt, sadness, and remorse creep along your skin like a spider, it's spiderweb clinging to your body and ensnaring you like a wiggling fly in it's grasp. There was no warmth, only the cold chill of fear of what you’d find when you entered your shared bedroom.

Ben's cologne was stale, hanging in the air, but it wasn't fresh, just a reminder, and you knew deep down it was because he wasn't here. But somewhere you clung on with bloodied fingertips hoping and praying that he was.

You'd spent the rest of the evening nursing a glass of red wine, fiddling with your necklace, and talking with anyone who came up to you about the paintings, but you lacked the enthusiasm you should have.

Nothing else seemed to matter, not after the fight you'd had with Ben, and standing amongst your creations felt frivolous, especially when everything you said to him rang in your ears.

At the end of the night you'd stood at the centerpiece, looking at the familiar brushstrokes and splashes of color of the picture of Ben and you sitting on the bank of a pond while tears crept along your cheeks.

Your agent had taken your tears as tears of joy, happy that you’d sold out your show, but gazing up at the painting you regretted it's sale. It made you feel like a part of you was being sold, as if the memory you had of that day would go with the painting to it's new owner leaving you with nothing.

You'd realized as the night wore on how stupid you'd been. You wished that you could go back and apologize for everything you said to Ben, because it didn't matter, nothing else mattered to you but Ben. And you hated yourself for telling him to leave, not when you knew how much he hated it when you told him to go and when you knew after all these years he still struggled with the idea that you didn't want him with you, when in reality being without him made you feel as if you were drowning.

And right now in the aftermath of the fight, you could feel the seaweed tangling around your ankle to pull you under.

As you stood there gazing up at the painting you'd realized that maybe Ben really did think the two of you were married and maybe deep down you knew that. That it wasn't about saying those vows in an official ceremony, it was about everything the two of you said to one another every day since he came back, it was about the promises that Ben made and kept, and it was about everything the two of you had been through over the years.

A stupid ceremony and certificate didn't matter to you, not if it stood in the way of Ben and you. You'd graciously take everything he had to give you for the rest of your life, and you knew that Ben felt the same way. You knew that he wasn't going to leave you, wasn't going to cheat on you with someone else, and wasn't going to turn his back on you. Not after everything the two of you had gone through and not when you knew how much Ben loved you.

That was what you wanted to say to him now, because you felt so stupid that you yelled at him. To tell him that none of it mattered, that the only thing that mattered to you was him.

The urge to throw up surges into the back of your throat as you creep down the hallway, but when you open the bedroom door you see that the bed is empty. A cold hands traces it's way down your vertebrae bringing with it the chill of fear that you'd done it, you'd finally made Ben want to leave you, that he was fed up and he was gone for good.

You almost don't make it to the bathroom sink before you throw up the two glasses of wine you drank, the sour taste of bile and alcohol burning your throat as your hands tighten on the cool lip of the marble vanity. Sweat and tears streak down your red face as a shudder works it's way through your body.

You'd hoped that he'd be in bed, the thought was optimistic at best, but you knew that Ben couldn't go to bed without you. Even when you were up late painting Ben would always pull you away to come to bed, because he needed you there, he wanted you beside him as he drifted off, holding you close against his chest and molding his body around yours. When Ben went away for work and was gone for days, he always came back with dark circles under his eyes, and you knew he didn't sleep, because Ben couldn't sleep without you.

You could feel the ghost of his touch against your skin, causing more tears to crest and fall down your cheeks and another shudder shake your body.

You scramble to find your phone where you placed it on the counter beside you. The selfie of the two of you on your home screen pressed cheek to cheek almost mocking before you swipe your thumb frantically to find his contact. You hold it up to your ear listening to the line ring and each time it does, it's like another nail in the coffin, because Ben doesn't answer.

When the voicemail starts you're not really sure what to say.

"Hey it's me-" You clear your throat, but it does little to hide the sob. "I just got home and you're not here and I miss you." Your voice breaks. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that to you or made a big deal about it, please Ben just come home. I was being stupid and I don't want to live without-"

The message is cut off and you stand there with the phone pressed into your cheek for another minute, unable to put it down. You feel it crunch in your hand as you lose control, crying harder as you stand there in front of your vanity trying desperately not to feel like this is the end and Ben was never coming back.

The shower you take is longer than you intended, because you zone out halfway through and it's only when the water runs cold that you realize you need to get out. It's been over an hour since you got home, almost past one in the morning, but Ben still isn't there.

Instead of putting on one of your shirts you put on a pair of panties and you grab an oversized cotton shirt of Ben's that hangs mid-thigh, inhaling the familiar scent and trying to find some comfort, but all it does is remind you that he's gone and nothing compares to when he's here with you.

When you slide into bed, it's cold, and fear begins to trickle along your skin, fear that Ben was never coming back and the last thing you'd ever say to him was that you couldn't be with him and you wanted him to leave.

Something rough works it's way down your arm in a gentle motion, stirring you from sleep. One look at the alarm clock on your bedside table reveals that it's well past four in the morning. You didn't remember falling asleep all you remembered was crawling into bed and hugging Ben's pillow to your chest wishing that it was him.

You blink your eyes to adjust to the darkness, noticing a dark figure sitting on the edge of your side of the bed staring down at you. Ben's green eyes catch in the light that comes from the cracked bathroom door, flashing dark green in the mist of darkness that shrouds his body from the rest of the light. He's wearing the white button down shirt, but his suit coat and tie are missing. The first few buttons are unbuttoned and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing freckled skin. His hand is tracing it's way over your arm, the roughness of his palm against your skin familiar, warm and comforting.

"Ben?" Your voice is hoarse and broken, for a moment unsure if this is a dream and he's not really here.

He doesn't say anything.

"Ben!" You practically shout it this time and surge upwards out of the bed to wrap your arms around his body so tightly that you think you hear the cracking of bone, but you can't control yourself now. Not when he's warm and he's here, not when he came back despite what you yelled at him.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did.” Tears were streaking down your face where it’s buried against the smooth slope his neck, saturating his dress shirt. “ I don’t want to lose you over something stupid like that.” You pull back to cup his cheeks taking in a shaky breath as you lean your forehead against his, memorizing the familiar edges you love so much. Even as close as you were to him you wanted more, you always wanted more. “I love you, only you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone, more than I ever will love anyone. I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry that I asked you to leave, I don’t want you to leave ever again. Whenever you’re not here it’s cold and colorless and I don’t want to live my life like that ever.” Your body shakes with sobs as you hold Ben tighter against you, afraid that he’ll vanish before your very eyes. “You and me together is enough for me. It’ll always be enough for me. We don’t have to-“

“It’s not enough for me.” Ben interrupts, his eyes not leaving your face. His expression is unreadable, the soft plains of his face sharpening in the moonlight that seeps through the bottom of the curtains of your shared bedroom.

“What?” You gasp and could feel your heart seize in your chest and your throat tighten in fear.

I can’t lose him, not again, not over a stupid argument that doesn’t mean anything when Ben means everything.

“This.” He clears his throat and gestures between the two of you. “Us being together like this, it’s not enough for me.”

It feels like you'd taken a bullet to the chest again, a sickening jolt back, and a sharp pain that follows as everything you know is stripped away. You're sure that you're about to break down into nothing, your heart crumbling in your hands as you try to hold it out to him and he turns away from you. Him saying those words to you made you feel like you had nothing left, because to know that you had him and lost him hurt more than knowing what it was like not to have him as completely as you had for the past five months.

"Ben please. I'm sorry I-" You sob, trying to cling to him, afraid to let him go, but he pulls away and stands up from the bed. "Don’t go please! Just tell me what I can do to make this right. Tell me how I can fix this." The words sound garbled as they exhale in one breath through tears and snot reaching for him frantically. "Please Ben I can't lose you-"

Ben takes your outstretched hand, gaze focused on your face. "Come on." He tugs gently, expecting you to follow him out of the bed.

"No, I want to talk about this. I don't want you to go!"

"Come on sweetheart." Ben encourages you quietly, tugging your hand once more, and this time you allow him to help you up from the bed.

You follow behind him, sobs shaking your shoulders because you're afraid Ben is taking you out to the living room to yell at you again, to tell you that he doesn't love you and you're going to find a packed bag.

But then Ben squeezes your hand to comfort you as you enter the living room and you stop dead in your tracks.

The entire room is covered in lavender, the kitchen counter, the coffee table in front of the plush leather couch, the large wooden table on the opposite side of the room that serves as your desk/workstation, and on the kitchen island broken up intermittently by candles that cast a soft honeyed light over the room. You gasp softly as Ben releases your hand, looking around the space with awe. You'd never seen so many bouquets of lavender in your entire life, each one sitting in a pretty glass vase, and in the center of the room stands one of your cherry wood colored easels holding the painting of Ben and you sitting on the bank of the pond.

You step closer to the painting, tracing the brush strokes with your eyes as you had earlier that night, reaching out to touch the edge, suddenly confused.

"Ben, what is this?" You turn to look at him, wiping the back of your hand across your face. You were sure that your eyes were puffy and that you were still covered in a layer of tears and snot, but you didn't care. Ben had seen you like this before and you were more worried about what was happening rather than how you looked.

You didn't understand what was happening, not when Ben came home so late and not when you had spent the entire night worried that he wasn't going to come back to you.

Ben is standing by the record player pushed up against the brick wall of your apartment that stands opposite your exhaustive collection of records and drops the needle. The song that begins to play is hauntingly familiar and you recognize it before Russ Columbo starts to sing.

"I can't forget the night I met you, That's all I'm dreaming of..."

It wasn't the first time that Ben and you had listened to this particular record, or danced together in the living room of your apartment in the quiet hours of the evening to "You Call It Madness, But I Call It Love." The song was filled with memories, some good, some bad that the two of you had shared over the years. The words heavy and familiar, the story much too similar to the one you shared with Ben.

A part of you is surprised that he chose to play it. You still didn't quite understand what was happening, you thought that Ben was breaking up with you, but this didn't feel like a ending.

"How did you get the painting? I sold it." You ask him.

"You made a promise to be faithful, By all the stars above…"

The song continues to play bringing memories of each time it did rising with the soft familiar swell of the music. A flash of you dancing for the first time with Ben flits across your mind bringing the usual warmth and happiness followed by the memory of your birthday when you danced together and it felt like no one else existed as if it were just the two of you left in a world where everyone else was gone.

"I know." Ben half-smiles. "I bought it."

"But why?"

"My heart is beating, For you constantly…"

He's still standing by the record player as if he's afraid to get closer to you. "Well, I've never bought any of your work and I wanted to be supportive." Ben shrugs. "And I didn't want someone else to have a piece of us Sweetheart, felt wrong."

"You're all I needed, And so I pleaded, Please come back to me…"

Your breath catches. It was the same thought you'd had when you were standing at the painting at the end of the night wishing that you hadn't sold it, wishing that you kept it for Ben and you.

"Look I-" Ben clears his throat. "I've- fuck- I’ve never had a way with words, you know that." He takes a cautionary step forward towards you as if he's afraid you'll run. "But I'm going to try my best here."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry."

"You made a plaything out of romance, What do you know of love…"

"Ben no, you don't have to apologize for anything." You close the distance between the two of you, taking his hands in yours to wash away any uncertainty Ben has about touching you. "It was me, it was all me and I shouldn't have said what I said and I shouldn’t have made you leave. I hate it when you leave. I-"

"Hey. Let me say this first." Ben's thumb rubs over the back of your hand, his eyes wide and an understanding smile on his face.

"At first, a slight suggestion, That grew to light my mind, Was the eternal question…"

"Okay." Your heart was stuttering in your chest, senses overwhelmed by the lavender that covered the room.

Ben looks down at your hands for a minute. "I'm sorry that I made you cry again. I hate it when you cry, especially when it's my fault. And I'm sorry that I made you think that I didn't want to marry you.” He almost whispers it and takes a deep breath. "When you asked me forty years ago if I wanted to marry anyone the only person that I could ever see myself marrying was you. Spending my life with you, waking up with you every morning, going to bed with you, and showing you how much you mean to me. And the truth is, it's all I've been thinking about since I got back, but I-" He swallows, still not looking up at you. "Fuck. I didn't think you'd say yes. "

"True love is hard to find…"

He wanted to marry me forty years ago?

Your eyes widen. "What? Why would you think that?”

Ben's green eyes flick up to yours for a moment, raising an eyebrow to remind you that he's trying to say something.

"Sorry." You murmur, tightening your hands around his.

"I don't deserve you, I never have. Fuck, it feels like my whole life I've been trying to earn you, but I never seem to come close." He sighs. "I've fucked up so many times and I've hurt people, killed others. I fucked up our friendship and I pushed you away, because I was-” Ben tighten his jaw as if it’s difficult to say the next words, “-Shit-" he murmurs the word under his breath before he continues, "scared to fail you and scared that I couldn't be what you wanted. I thought you deserved someone better, someone good, someone who wasn't such a fuck up like me, someone who you could love you the way that you deserve and I-" Ben swallows and takes another deep breath. "I spent my life chasing away everyone who tried because I hated the thought of you with someone else.”

"And in the day I found you, my love I had to share, I built my dreams around you…"

It hurt you to hear him say those things about himself, hurt you to see him still buckle under the pressure that his father put on his shoulders, and hurt you to see how little he thought of himself. Ben was one of the strongest people you knew, but even then you knew he needed you, and you'd spent your entire life making sure that you were there for him and you weren’t going to stop now.

"Somehow you made me care…"

"And yet every time I'm with you, you've never make it seem like I don't belong there. You don’t make me feel like a fuck up or a disappointment. You don’t turn your back on me or ignore the parts of me I tried to cover up for so long from everyone else. You see me, more than anyone has.” Ben murmurs, the smile on his face breaks something deep down inside of you and you can feel the tears begin to spill all over again. He traces a rough hand along the soft smooth edges of your face. Hands that had done painful over the years but were only gentle to you, hands that held you close, and treated you with love that only you were able to see. "You make me feel loved and I thought that I'd never have that, that I didn’t deserve it, but ever since I was eight years old you've forced yourself into my life and I can't imagine a world without you in it, I don't want to."

"Ben-" Your voice breaks with a sniffle, eyes brimming with fresh tears.

"Shh. I've still got a few more things." Ben smiles, brushing away a tear from your cheek. "You know my old man never gave me any advice that was worth a damn, but your dad did. He said that there's going to be a lot of women I run into and that most men pick from first glance the flashy ones that don’t last, the ones that aren't willing to stay for long, and the ones that care about all the wrong things. Your dad told me that I should pick someone that understands me better than I understand myself, someone who holds me accountable, someone that doesn't put up with any of my bullshit, someone to grow with, someone who loves me even if I believe they shouldn’t, and someone that makes me a better man." He chuckles under his breath. "And I knew exactly who he was talking about the minute he said it, because it's you sweetheart, it's always been you, from the moment you walked into that damn study and lied to my father about where I was."

"My heart is beating, For you constantly…"

The song is in full swing now, but you can barely hear it, all you can hear is Ben's steady heartbeat and yours beating together in tandem. The love you feel for him swelling in your chest with the music and with his words. You want so badly to pull him close and tell him how much you love him, how he's the only one, how he's everything you dreamed of, but you're trying not to interrupt him.

"Eighty years ago I made a mistake, I asked you to leave everything behind and come with me, because I couldn't lose you and because I couldn’t stand to see you with someone else. I didn't ask you to marry me, I didn't tell you how much you meant to me or that I loved you. I was selfish and I took advantage of our friendship. I strung you along all those fucking years, made you wait-"

"You didn’t take advantage of our friendship-“ You begin to say.

"Sweetheart please." He squeezes your hand and continues. "Forty years ago I made another mistake." He closes his eyes as if trying to forget for a moment, before he looks you in the eye once more. "I had everything I wanted for one night and then I fucking lost it. I treated you like you meant nothing to me. I threw you away. I said terrible things to push you away. I hurt you, and I will regret those things for the rest of my life, because it’s not true, you mean everything to me."

"You're all I needed, And so I pleaded, Please come back to me…"

You raise your free hand to his cheek. "I've forgiven you." You whisper and Ben leans into your hand.

"I know. And I don't deserve that, I don’t deserve you, I never have and I don’t think I ever will. You have meant more to me than anyone in my entire life. You are my family and my home. You have stood by me and loved me despite all the terrible shitty things I've done. You have seen me at my worst and you never left. Being your boyfriend isn’t enough for me. You being my girlfriend isn’t enough and frankly, it doesn’t feel like the right word for you not when you mean this much to me and not when you're the only person I need. So I'm asking you," Ben drops down on one knee, making your breath catch in your chest.

"Eighty years too late, to spend the rest of your life with me. Because I've spent the past forty without you and I don't want to spend another second regretting that I didn't do this eighty years ago. I'm asking you to chose me one more time, Sweetheart, and I promise that every day I will chose you every day for as long as I live. You said that you wanted to be my forever, well sweetheart, I can't imagine anything better." Ben swallows and reaches into his coat with his free hand, his right still holding on to yours, for a black suede box. "Will you marry me?"

You stand there for a moment stunned as he opens the box in his hand, gazing up at you like you're the sun as if you shone so brightly that the heavenly hosts bowed to your brilliance and he can't help but worship you. It's the same way that you saw the couple looking at each other the night Ben and you danced for the first time that continues to play in your silent apartment, bathed in the golden glow of candle light.

You gaze at Ben, eyes tracing the familiar face, seeing the old parts of him and the new ones that you'd come to love. You could see the boy you grew up with and the man he became, the same one you knew as a child and the man you fell in love with. The one who always put you first, who cared for you, protected you, and the one you thought you lost years ago.

The ring nestled in the black velvet is everything you imagined it to be. It's perfect, elegant, classic, it's you in every way, and it only proves to you again how well Ben knows you.

You could remember the day that Howard proposed, when all you felt was dread as he dropped to one knee in the dining room in front of your parents and revealed the ugliest piece of jewelry you’d ever seen, when he didn't make a grand gesture, didn’t profess his love to you, and didn’t make you feel special.

But Ben did. He always made you feel special, seen, loved, and appreciated. You refused to live another moment away from him and refused to deprive yourself of this indulgence, of him.

Ben had saved you more times than you could count and the day he took you away from Philadelphia was one of them. Away from a man who didn't love you, who didn't appreciate you, and who didn't think that you were worth more than a trophy to parade around a city.

You smile at the ring, tears glazing your eyes, because after all these years, you were right, Ben knew exactly the ring to get you and he knew exactly what to say to make everything else fade away into the past and have you hopeful for the coming future with him.

"Sweetheart?" Ben murmurs, looking suddenly worried and you realize that you haven’t given him an answer.

You look from the ring to the man you love with your entire being. "Took you long enough Benjamin."

Ben's smile makes you melt from the inside out. “Is that a yes?”

“Of course it’s a yes." You smile, vision blurring as Ben smiles even wider and puts the ring on your finger, before rising up from the ground to capture your lips against his as if he wishes for the two of you to fall in love all over again.

"There isn't anyone else Ben." You murmur against his lips. "There never has been and there never will be. All I want is you and me, forever."

Ben kisses you all over again, his hands holding you so tight against his chest that it’s almost painful, your own tangled in his hair, but you can't stop and you don't want him to either. Not when this was what you wished for, not when this was what you wanted for so long and you thought you'd never had, and not when you'd thought you'd lost him.

"Then I'll give it to you sweetheart." Ben presses his forehead against yours, his eyes shining. "I'll give you forever."

"And you call it madness, Oh but I call it love…"

A/n: I'm not crying... I lied, I am BIG time. Goodness, finishing this series is like saying goodbye to characters that feel like my children. Honestly, I can’t believe that we've finally all made it here, but here it is. There are so many people that I want to thank, too many to name, those who have been here from the beginning and those who came later, people who's constant comments, reblogs, and encouragements made me turn this story from one chapter into a multi-chapter fic. There are just so many wonderful people that I've interacted with on this site that made me want to continue writing and helped me find confidence in how I wrote and this fic is for them.

As always thank you so much for reading! This series will be continued in the form of some one-shots that I am plotting out currently and I have a lot of really cute ideas and some that are more angsty. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist for future fics in this universe. ❤️🥰

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303

@deans-spinster-witch @kayleighmeister @demodemo909 @fruitfacess @bobbobbobinogs

@bughill126 @simplyfixated @tiredstrangerr @freefallthoughts @onlyangel-444

@lov3vivian @mxltifxnd0m @mayafatimakhan @marvel-mistress @my-obsession-spn

@lifeonawhim @liuope @brynanna @carpenterswife

@xxannyxx

@babyinatrench-coat1 @the-gentle-spirit @valryomen @cassieriddle713 @shaggzthatsnottheworm

@lil-soup @ej13928 @topstory21 @boywivlove

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@vivre-dans-la-nuit @megara0224 @daisy-the-quake @thesilmarillionblog @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

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@everlove @dangerousgardenchild

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fic

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fairytsuk1 · 1 year ago

Text

looking glass | (s)

apart of the meet cute: gone wrong series, click here for more!

pairing: shoto todoroki x reader

words: 5.7k

prompt: "moving into a new apartment and realizing they can see directly into their neighbor’s window"

warnings: strangers to lovers, masturbation, mild pervert!todoroki, voyeurism, exhibitionism, fingering, kitchen sex, unprotected sex, alcohol

Shoto had decided to move. He had to get away from it all, and his only option post-college was to find an apartment where he could heal from all his trauma in peace. The moving-in process had been grand, Midoriya had come by, and he was always such a great friend. Even some ex-classmates had come by, with welcoming gifts or a helping hand. Even Bakugou had paid a visit with Kirishima, and the distance was starting to seem not so bad now that he was settled into his one-bedroom apartment.

Things were looking up! Job security, a new place, and lots of people to meet. It even felt a bit exciting. A new chapter.

“So you’re single?”

The apartment complex had its pitfalls, namely the single women that had spotted an attractive bachelor on their radar and were quick to bomb-rush him with questions. Was he single? Was he set to be married? Married in the past? Looking for that special someone?

An older woman, Miyako, had come with onigiri and many questions. Some bordered on creepy, but Todoroki had difficult time saying “go away” to people who didn’t deserve it. He’d come a long way from his teenage years; he had to be better now.

“I’m just going about life right now, er; I’ll let you know?”

Miyako looked thrilled to have caught Shoto’s attention, but it was beginning to feel embarrassing when he only wanted to take out the trash.

“Oh, that’s great! Believe me, my husband is always gone, so if I never need… help, I know how to find you!”

It seemed a bit distasteful that she’d tried lowering her eyes and rubbing her lips together as if he’d get with a married woman. Gosh, imagine the drama. Todoroki took a look around, and most people were leaving for work. He probably shouldn’t be seen with this lady like this.

“Yeah, I’m not exactly handy, though. Uhm, I hope it all works out,” and Todoroki's taking the tray from her hands, “and thank you for the onigiri.”

She follows his steps as he moves backward, “Oh, but are you sure you don’t need anything else?”

An angelic voice floats out from behind him. It’s the smoothest voice he’s ever heard.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Miyako!”

He was thankful someone had come to put this cougar to rest, but as he turned towards the sound of the voice… he thought he could hear bells in the distance. Have you always been living here? Are you a guardian angel striking a pose on Earth? Why hadn’t he gotten to see you earlier?

“Oh, I’m just checking up on him!”

She dares to pinch his cheek, and he can feel it grow warm under her manicured nails, “isn’t he so cute?”

“Soooo cute,” and you offer a small wave, “Hi there.”

He doesn’t take your lack of a compliment to heart, waving back and noting your name. It was pretty, and it fits you perfectly. So did the suit you were wearing, the blazer buttoned to accentuate curves, and you still managed to adorn yourself with gold jewelry without losing your air of professionalism.

“Well, I have to go,” Miyako rests a hand on his, whispering, “Enjoy the onigiri.”

“Thanks.”

She gives a pleasant goodbye to you, and you’re approaching closer as she walks away.

“Got caught by Miyako, huh?”

“Well, I guess. I was taking out my trash, and then she asked all these questions with the tray of onigiri; I couldn’t tell her to go away.”

“You should! She goes after nearly every bachelor that moves here but don’t try it. I’ve seen too many guys get beaten to a pulp by her husband; it’s a dangerous game.”

“Oh, oh no. I wasn’t going to–”

“I didn’t think you would,” and you have the confidence to give him a wink, “you just moved here a couple weeks ago, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m apartment 438. Where are you?”

“Oh, just across from the other side, but there’s never any parking over there! I really am only over here for work,” you gesture to yourself with a small shrug, “law firm.”

Ah, so that’s the reason for the briefcase. He gives a small smile in return. Has he been nervous this entire time?

“Well, government job. So, we’re in the same boat.”

“Hah! I guess so. If you’re ever in trouble, then call me! Unless it’s something pretty bad, I just do real estate stuff.”

“Real estate?”

“You don’t have to pretend to be interested in it! But it’s not bad, not like you think.”

“No, I wasn’t lying. I could never go through law school; that’s very admirable.”

He’s pleased that your cheeks lift unconsciously, murmuring a “thank you.”

The two of you linger in the presence of each other for a minute or two longer, but it feels like ages as the breeze brushes past the two of you under the sun's warmth. You’re the first to break, sighing and offering your hand, “I’ve gotta go, but it was so nice to meet you!”

Your hand is soft, not scarred like his that came from years of working out and being rougher in his younger years. Electricity raves through his veins when you give him a firm shake.

“Yes, you too. Have a good day at work,” he feels his cheeks burn unconsciously at the statement, fingers curling around the onigiri like a lifeline.

“I’ll need it!”

He tries not to watch you get into your gray Toyota, so he busies himself with inspecting the gift he was given till he hears your engine rev. The last look he gives you wasn’t meant to feel like he was yearning to talk to you more, but he’s afraid it does when he catches your eye, and you only smile.

The apartment is cozy, but as he eats his onigiri, he wonders if you’d want to share some with him sometime.

“I’m getting too wrapped up in this,” he mumbles at the small island in his kitchen, “I’ve got to get to work.”

It’s a slow work day.

“A lady? Who’d you meet? That’s great, Todoroki!”

Midoriya blabbers eagerly to him over the phone, having to catch up on each other’s lives, “Yeah, she saved me from some old lady. She was hitting on me.”

“An old woman!? Wow, was she the one who gave you onigiri?”

“Yup.”

“Wow! Gosh, I can’t believe it! I mean, didn’t you say she was married?! That’s just crazy, Todoroki. I don’t know what I’d do!”

“She was not going to leave me alone,” he stirs a pot of marinara sauce lazily, “but everyone here is very nice.”

He doesn’t say your name, but he means you.

“Mhm, that’s good. Uraraka and I have been good. We’re looking at buying a house!”

“Right, how’s that going?”

He’s able to lose himself in the conversation and dinner-making. It’s peaceful; it feels like home. His lights are low, which adds to the lighting, and he can’t help but feel lonely. Usually, at home, he’d smell the soft perfume of his mother or the sizzle of food from Fuyumi.

Todoroki tried to put the lost memories out of his mind. Midoriya was here, and he supposed that was never a sad thing.

“Sounds like you guys have a plan,” the sauce is nearly done, and he finally takes a second to rest against the counter, “I think it’s going to go great. I can always help you with moving when the time comes.”

“Thank you so much! I think we’re pretty steady on what we wanna do….”

It only takes a flickering gaze around the room to cause Todoroki to be shaken to his core. He ended up with a nice balcony in his apartment and opted for curtains during move-in.

This time though, this evening, he’d left them wide open. Wide open and exposed directly to your apartment. You were not only inside but walking around half-naked.

“Todoroki?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Oh! I was just saying would you prefer gray walls or white ones? We still can’t decide.”

Picking up your living room is a menial task to you, but not to the man drooling over how you bend over and how your panties outline the plush fat of your ass. White panties with lace.

“...White is good, maybe a bit off-white.”

“That’s what I was thinking!”

The sauce starts to boil over, “shit!”

“Is everything okay?”

He’s got his phone trapped between his shoulder and ear, rushing to turn down the heat and making quick glances at the sliding doors, “Yeah! Yeah, everything’s fine. My dinner’s ready; I have to go.”

“Okay! Hope it’s super good; talk to you later! Bye.”

“Yup, thanks. Bye.”

The phone is slid away on the counter, the sauce is lowered to a medium-low, and his eyes are finally free to enjoy the show that’s been stirring guilt and arousal in his gut. You look good. More than good, so good that he can’t be bothered to turn away in shame. He’s locked in, and you have no idea what you’re doing as your prance around your living room.

You’re just cleaning up. No big deal, but it feels like something is watching your every movement. It only clicks once you reach the sliding glass door to see Todoroki’s “empty” apartment gazing back at you. It makes sense now; you must’ve been putting on a grand show for him while doing your chores.

Something in your brain whispers an idea to you. One that makes you want to go “Eureka!”

It’s a bad idea, an awful idea, to not shut the curtains. However… How often do you get to tease an attractive man? How often do you get to enthrall someone in your figure, your body? It’s an awful idea to turn around and take a nice long stretch down to your toes, but you don’t care.

Maybe he’s imagining filling you up or getting off to the fact that you think he’s not watching. The thought strangely excites you. Sure, it’s immoral, but the fact that eyes are tracking your every curve and committing them to memory is so alluring. You’re definitely going to use your vibrator later.

Todoroki’s hard in his sweatpants; the indentation is practically obscene. A flush spreads through his body, making him unbearably hot. There’s a weird other being inside him that wants to march over to your door and fuck you till you love him. But… he’s being a creep. You’d be scared, uncomfortable! He would never in a million years try to do something to you, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t drink in a long look at your plump ass practically in his face.

But then you do something unexpected; you turn around. Todoroki's reflexes are fast, and the minute your leg bends, he’s acutely aware that if he doesn’t move, he’s going to get caught! Two-toned hair dives towards the floor, the thump definitely irritating his downstairs neighbors as he crawls till he’s behind his sofa and safely able to peer his eyes around the arm.

You look askance like you’re waiting to see something. Todoroki watches you wait a minute more before stepping forward and swiftly tugging the curtains shut. The show’s over, but his cock is still hard in his boxers, and Todoroki thinks it might be time for a shower.

He fists his cock needily under the warm water, breathing your name in soft exhales as he works himself to the end. The cum splatters lewdly against the tiles, and he’s shocked to find his knees weak. What were you doing to him?

Neither of you sees each other again for a while. Your work takes up so much of your time, and your heart withers watching the daylight pass by in your office. Todoroki has been busy, too, he’s closer to the heart of the city, and the daily commute has worn him thin. It’s exhausting, and the two of you are not even the slightest bit excited to read the flier posted up on your doors.

[SHIKETSU COMPLEX MONTHLY BARBECUE AND PICNIC!]

Todoroki’s eyes are assaulted by the bright colors that jump out at him. There are many reasons not to go. He is so tired, Miyako might be there, he doesn’t know anyone like that, he has no kids, he doesn’t know how to barbecue…

His mind keeps circling back to you like a train stuck in a loop on the track. It’s unbelievable that he’s rationalizing attending this event just because he thinks you might be there. You probably won’t go; why would you? You’re way too busy. He tries to convince himself to walk back to the apartment as he makes his way to the barbecue. You won’t be there; he’s an idiot.

Yet there you are, under the hot sun shining in a warm yellow sundress that contrasts your brown skin beautifully. You’ve adorned yourself with gold jewelry again. His heart flutters in his chest. Todoroki can’t believe he’s there and that you were there too.

“Hello, handsome,” you smile warmly as he approaches a picnic table with pre-made potato salad, “did you make this?”

“Huh? Hello, and I-uh, well,” he’s unsure whether to lie or tell the truth, “I don’t know!”

He’s lucky he’s handsome because you laugh lightly and point to the artichoke dip, “Honestly, I don’t know if I made that either,” and then you’re humming with a warm hand on his shoulder, “unless you’re a secret housewife, no one cares that the bachelor doesn’t know how to cook.”

“Is that really my nickname?”

“To some, yeah. Especially Miyako; I swear she’s been trying to scout you out from when you arrived. She’s here with her husband and kids too! She has no shame.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty weird. How have you been, by the way?”

There’s a clear elephant in the room to him; he can’t get your body out of his head. His senses go haywire every time you move, flashing a show of skin. Hopefully, you have no idea.

“Oh, good! Good, just working. I haven’t seen you around often these days; early commute?”

“Mhm, it takes up a lot of time. I don’t mind being in the city, but it’s hard to come back home and do it all over again,” he smiles warmly, “I feel jealous of you.”

“Oh, trust me, once you’re spending long hours in an office and leaving when the sun’s down, you won’t be saying that anymore!”

It’s just a friendly neighbor chat, but it comes so easily for the two of you. It’s not like you guys are chatting for the second time ever, but as if you’ve been friends for years, getting caught up in reminiscing. You launch the dice, scoring snake eyes.

“Hey, I know you mentioned you weren’t too handy the last time we talked, but how are you with electronics? Televisions?”

“I-I used to live in a dorm, so I know a little. Is something wrong?”

“My tv has been having connective issues! I don’t know what the problem is, but I was hoping you might be able to come and look at it whenever you’re free.”

He’s being baited like a shark; he knows this too well. It’s an extremely attractive olive branch. At this point, it’s not even a branch but a whole Garden of Eden planted by you for him. He can’t wait to bite the apple.

Todoroki nods genially, “Of course, I can take a quick look at it. No promises if I don’t know what to do; I’m not an expert.”

You’re sipping your cocktail with a coy look, “I’m sure you’re an expert in other things. If you watch something enough, you’ll eventually pick it up.”

The comment makes Todoroki go stock still, eyes blown out and face deadly pale as you shrug up at him. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but you’re waltzing away to engage with some of the mothers. That had to be a dig; you had to know what he did that evening. Maybe inviting him over was a plot to kill him for being a spying creep.

Then there’s the chance that you… liked it. It feels impossible to even consider that option, but it was clear that you weren’t exactly mad. You would’ve confronted him straight away; he’s sure of that. So, what was he to do? Pretend to be innocent? Tell you that he thought you were extremely beautiful and sexy, so much so that he watched you through your window while you weren’t wearing clothes?

A man offers him a beer; Togami, he says. Todoroki is left to sip the acrid drink and ponder whether he should skip town.

You keep looking at him, and you know the other moms are starting to notice your wandering eye fixated on the lone wolf. Aka, a mother of two, grins eagerly, “See something you like? Ah, young love!”

“It’s not young love. We’ve barely talked, Aka.”

Mayumi chimes in, “Really? It looks like he wants to talk to you; every time you look away, he looks back at you!”

“Are you being serious? You guys are crazy; nothing is going on!”

They’re swirling around you like viper snakes. Their lives are so consumed by their children that they see themselves in you, and they’re poking and prodding like you’re their next do-over, “Why don’t you talk to him?”

“I actually did, Mayumi,” you shrug, “it was good! Nothing crazy, not like how I know you guys are thinking. What dirty minds!”

Obviously, the mothers were gossipy, but you wonder if maybe he needed an extra push. Due to your line of work, you were familiar with pushing someone right till they crack like an egg. You’d left him looking like a sorrowful puppy, and the alcoholic drinks were brewing fiercely in your tummy. Liquid courage runs through you, and you set your margarita down to smooth out your dress.

Maybe they were right; maybe you should do something. Prod him a bit.

“I’m going to be right back,” you mumble to the gaggle of women that debate the current happenings of Ema, a new mom that entered the block and seemed desperate to wreak havoc. You’d met her, and she was actually quite nice.

But that’s not the point. No, you’re straightening your posture and sauntering over with a sway of your hips. You were going to do this.

Your eyes are locked onto Todoroki’s figure as you confidently walk towards him, “Todoroki! Are you getting ready to head out?”

He gives you a small nod, looking around before nudging you, “It looks about time. Are you?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I am. I’m looking forward to just straight-up relaxing.”

“Right,” and he seems to be brimming with liquid confidence as well because he offers, “Do you want me to walk you back?”

It feels weird to be asked that; it’s not a direct question but an offering. Despite that, though, there’s a feeling bubbling underneath the surface. Both of you know that you could give in right here and now, forgo the traditional courting and go straight to fucking like wild animals.

“Gladly, thank you,” he follows with you leading the way, “I think you fit in well.”

“Huh?”

“I said, I think you fit in well. In the neighborhood, you really round it all out. Plus, everyone likes you.”

“Not everyone,” his face tinges pink, so cute.

“Yeah, yeah,” stopping at the steps to my door, you shrug at him, “Do you want to come inside for a second?”

It’s another checkpoint. Another moment that makes one pause and think, “Is this it?” Another moment Todoroki barrels through, eagerly accepting the invitation and kicking his shoes off at the front of your home.

He seems to really take in your apartment as you scurry to make a polite pot of tea. Heterochromatic eyes sweep over the large glass doors; he doesn’t hide his open gawking. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth while pouring boiling water over tea leaves, “I take it to mean you like my apartment?”

“Like? I-I mean, it’s….”

Todoroki trails off, honing in on the pictures on the mantle.

“It’s very homely,” he turns back to look at you, smiling softly, “It looks great.”

“Ah, thank you. Tea?”

The man gladly takes it, and you can feel the lingering warmth of his comments as you chit-chat. You wonder what he’s thinking; his curiosity is on full display. You could come up with a few ideas. Before you know it, Todoroki is checking his watch and giving you a straight face.

“It’s getting late,” his cheeks twitch to a frown before remaining neutral, “but it was really nice to spend time together.”

Does everything he says have romantic undertones? You nod, covering your flushing cheeks with a hand before an idea strikes you. It slips out on accident; you didn’t mean for it to come out, really!

“I agree,” and the bomb drops, “I’d expect a great view from your window tonight.”

Your eyes flicker to his darkly. He’s swallowing, staring at you like a piece of meat as you lay the trap out for him. Neither of you says anything; what should you say? One of you could be bold, could prompt a kiss or more, but you don’t. Todoroki gives a light laugh, gathering his things with a lingering hand ghosting the small of your back as you escort him out.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs lowly, and you think you could kiss him.

“Goodnight!” the door locks with a click.

Todoroki sits patiently like it's a movie theater where he's waiting for his favorite film. It’s dazzling how the curtains peel back to show your partially clothed body facing away from the glass. You only have the kitchen light on, illuminating your soft curves and tan skin better than any ring light could. Todoroki sits in the darkness, not wanting to be seen but to watch. To be an active audience member as his hand trails down to grip and stroke his cock.

Swaying your hips, Todoroki finally gets a glimpse of your sweet face. It’s different from earlier. It was much more innocent before, truly the girl next door type. But this, this? You were something absolutely out of this world; he noted it in the way your eyelids lowered as you salaciously gripped your vibrator or even the way your lingerie left nothing to the imagination.

“Fuck…” he spoke to the quiet air.

He couldn’t hear you, but it was enough to see you. Starting slowly by groping your chest, nipples peeking through the lace of your bra as his eyes continuously dip down to your pussy. Covered, but if he squinted, Todoroki thought he could see your wetness starting to soak through.

You moan, hips twitching as you tug your nipple a bit harsher than the last time. Soft lips part to breathe as a hand snakes down the valley between your breasts and down the slope of your stomach. Manicured nails stop at the waistband of your panties; your eyes seem to search across the darkness for the sight of your lover boy. For a second, you think you see a turquoise eye in the darkness as your fingers make quick work on your clit.

You both know you’re staring right at each other, and neither can look away as your hands cover themselves in slickness and arousal. It’s heady and so risky with such open windows, and yet your orgasms are driving you toward the edge faster than you’ve ever felt before.

“God, I wish I could feel you,” Todoroki groans, thumb rubbing the slit and feeling his abs tighten, “I need you.”

“Oh god, I’m gonna cum Todoroki,” you pant into the open air, squirming and fucking yourself on your fingers and toy.

It comes all at once, spurting onto the web of his thumb and fingers as Todoroki cums to your wriggling form. It overwhelms you, too, body arching and seemingly bursting with pleasure when you reach your peak. You both came quicker than expected, your legs falling closed as you steadied your breathing. Even under the low light, the clear droplets of your arousal staining the carpet makes Todoroki’s balls ache.

You’ve won again. You’ve once again captured the heart and dick of Shoto Todoroki, and he can feel the feelings ruminating inside him as you playfully clean up your living room. His eyes track your figure like he’ll forget you the minute he blinks. This can’t go on any longer; both of you know this. But then you’re drawing the curtains, and the show ends.

By the evening, Todoroki sets a plan to get exactly what he wants. And you’re none the wiser.

It’s been a while since the two of you had crossed paths. Your work has stolen your energy, leaving you to come home exhausted and weary every day. Normally you’d perk up at seeing the boy you’d come to feel warmth for if you even caught him, but his life seemed to be getting in the way. He always kept his curtains closed these days.

Then, you notice it on your day off, cozy in a sweatsuit with a mug of steaming coffee. The curtains are open, which leaves his apartment looking like a ghost town. It’s been a moment since you’ve seen the light filter in like that since you’ve felt that familiar feeling brewing at the bottom of your stomach.

Your body sits on the plush couch, sipping your drink and waiting patiently. You’re giddy as Todoroki walks into view. The show is about to start, and unlike you, he’s making sure to give an eyeful. He’s never looked more confident; in fact, he’s never put himself on display like this.

Was he really doing this all for you?

The thought is forgotten as a black t-shirt is peeled off to show rippling muscles and brown nipples that pebbled as he rubbed over his chest. He was carved to perfection, maybe by God himself. Todoroki starts slow, blunt nails scratching lightly over his pecs, down his abs, and stopping at the band of his sweatpants.

He looks up at you through his bangs and your pussy throbs. The man flicks his hair back, hand gliding and palming his cock over the thick fabric. Todoroki must’ve already worked himself up, you note as you watch his half-hard cock create a sizable imprint in his sweats.

You’re biting your lip, trying not to reach down and touch yourself. He looks so enticing. Part of you wants to jump up and break down his door, pulling him into a sharp kiss as he…

Todoroki moans behind the glass, head tilting back as his Adam’s apple bobs. You can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but it’s enough to make you feel… hot. Almost angry, he had the nerve to touch himself in front of you yet play shy when you were face to face. If he was going to be so bold as to unashamedly stroke himself, you’d be even bolder by darting up out of your seat and running out the front door.

You miss his smirk as he pulls on his shirt and waits for the piercing sound of your knuckles rapping against the door. After a moment, he hears it and steadily opens it with a teasing smile.

“Hello,” he greets casually, despite the erection straining the front of his pants.

Neither of you can wait anymore as you nearly tackle him with a kiss. He easily holds you, big hands cupping your waist and pawing at your ass. It’s desperate; it’s passionate. Todoroki grunts as his back hits his kitchen island, “do you wanna do this right now?”

“I don’t think I can wait,” your lips graze over him, “I know you need me.”

Todoroki pulls you closer till his leg slides between yours. The small motion makes you lose focus at the delicious pressure against your clit; your arms delicately wind around his broad shoulders as he bruises your lips with another kiss.

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” he murmurs, spit slicking his lips.

His tongue, pink and sweet, glides over yours like butter. The two of you fight to win, each trying to usurp the power of the other and take control. You scratch against his back, Todoroki presses his leg against your soaked pussy, and your hand sneaks down to squeeze his cock that soaks pre-cum into his boxers.

At some point, it goes from a battle to simply indulging in the good feelings. Saliva pools in your mouth as you dry-hump each other like animals. Whimpers echo in the air, but he caves first.

“Wait,” he pauses, chest heaving and lips glossy, “let me…”

The small of your back meets the counter before Todoroki captures your lips in another kiss. He’s grown confident, fingers cradling your wrist and hands fondling your tits.

“Ah! Todoroki,” your body melts easily into his palm, “take me, god. I’ve been waiting long enough.”

“Have you? I think I’ve waited for longer,” his teeth graze over the curve of your neck, “you started it.”

His hands expertly sneak up your shirt within minutes; it makes you wonder what else he’s hiding from you. Your fingers curl into his hair easily. Tugging lightly, the pleasure and blushed face of the man before you made your core throb.

“Then let me finish it,” you murmur softly, hand sliding down to his sweatpants.

“Mhm,” the two of you stare at each other as your hand slides past the cotton barriers to touch smooth, hot skin.

Then, his eyes look blown out, and his hands are spinning you around so fast you nearly get whiplash. Excitement shakes through your body like bursting fireworks as you help tug down your bottoms.

Large hands eagerly spread your ass, Todoroki watching your hole clench and drip arousal down your thigh. His mouth instinctually waters, and his knees want to give in. You would taste so sweet. Todoroki can’t keep his eyes off your drooling pussy. You’re mewling, though, impatient as a thumb runs over your slit before rubbing tight circles against your clit, “You’re so beautiful.”

He slips a finger in, leaving your words choked and broken, “T-thank you.”

“Of course, baby,” he hopes the nickname lands, “oh, you liked that.”

It’s embarrassing to hear the squelch of his fingers inside you. You clench easily at his motions when he flicks his fingers up harshly or calls you such sweet names. Even he chuckles at your obvious arousal.

“Shut the hell up…!

You still squeak as he fingers your cunt. His fingers are reaching spots that even yours couldn’t; it feels so good. One hand of his keeps you pinned by the small of your back while the other eagerly reveals the wet and clicking sounds of your pussy.

“I wouldn’t be so rude.”

The smack against your ass makes stars burst behind your eyes. You could cum like this in minutes.

“Please, Todoroki,” you weakly beg for mercy, needing nothing more than to feel the primal thrusts of him fucking his cum into you.

“Fuck,” he breathes into your neck, “I need to fuck you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you do,” breathless, you go up on your tiptoes, “Please fuck me, Todoroki.”

He hadn’t even prompted you to beg, yet you acted perfectly like his own awaiting toy. Todoroki can’t line himself up against you fast enough, blunt head pressing against your needy hole while you try to breathe through the inevitable stretch.

You were prepared well. The stretch of his cock as he slowly slides into you feels like magic, and you’re keening like you’re in heat. It’s hot, overwhelming, it smells like his apartment, and he was balls deep inside of you.

“Aah, fuck,” his voice warbles, fingers leaving clear prints on your rounded hips.

“So good, god, so good!”

There’s a soft “pap” when his hips meet yours, but then he’s immediately diving into both of your pleasures. He dials in with thrusts, shaking you and churning your insides while you can only grab for purchase against the counter.

It leaves you breathless, and you’re squeezing like a vice around him as he pumps in and out of you. It’s a delicious rhythm; the push and pull are so terribly addicting that you can feel the swirl of your orgasm at the pit of your stomach.

“You’re squeezing me so tight; gonna cum? Gonna cum all over my cock?”

You babble nonsensically as he reaches around to rub your clit. His hands slip over your clit, but he can see your manicured toes curling as he makes you succumb to him.

“Todoroki, Todoroki! I’m cumming–oh god, I-I’m cumming!”

For a minute, everything goes blank. As if you’ve been flashbang.

“Good girl,” Todoroki whispers in the shell of his ear as he chases his own pleasure, “You’re so good for me.”

It crashes down onto you hard. Your entire body trembles, muscles locking up as you cum hard, creaming on him as he watches in awe. Todoroki releases a heavy groan as he finally fills you. It’s white-hot, and he heaves over you. His heavy body completely smothers you in a way that feels reassuring. In a way that feels loving.

The two of you lay still in the post-coital glow, catching your breaths and murmuring soft words. “Let me get you a tissue,” he says as he kisses your shoulder.

You’re unsure why your heart aches as he cleans up your tender pussy and picks up your bottoms.

“Hey, you know I….”

Todoroki raises an eyebrow as you trail off.

“I’m not that kind of woman,” you say with an air of finality, “just so you know.”

The man before you blinks before giving you a genuine smile.

“I never thought you were.”

You leave soon after, giving him a sweet kiss and quickly bounding to your apartment. In the evening, Todoroki catches you crossing your living room. You pause, smiling, before blowing a kiss and shutting the blinds.

#boku no hero academia x reader #bnha smut #boku no hero academia smut #my hero academia smut #todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki smut #todoroki shoto smut #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x you #todoroki shoto fanart

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ronearoundblindly · 3 months ago

Text

Hideout (Interlude)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!reader (see series)

Written for @whiskeytangofoxtrot555's birthday from her premise ask 💜 but also serves as a wee prezzie for @blogbog710, @targaryenvampireslayer, @navybrat817, and (belatedly) the lovely @ellethespaceunicorn! (What the heck is in the water?? So many bdays I didn't know about!)

Summary: Your birthday ritual is interrupted.

*You do not need to know anything about this series to enjoy this blurb.* Warnings for suggestive eating, a sweet kiss (literally), cuddling in minimal clothing, but otherwise, just fluff and feels! WC 1.2k

Of course, you don’t always do this. Sometimes you’re out with friends. Sometimes your parents make a huge deal out of late dinner. Sometimes you draw the short straw and have to work the front desk, but not tonight.

The searing red of the digital clock counts down for you (or up depending on how you look at it). Soon—very soon—it will be midnight, and you can wish yourself the first ‘happy birthday.’ To some that might seem sad, but it’s become a ritual of you putting yourself first. Birthday parties may be for children but celebrating YOU should never go out of style.

The red flickers. New numbers. New you. Older, wiser, and alive. It’s a beautiful thing.

Your eyelids fall heavy after your long soak in the tub, the lingering scent of the bubblebath still warm on your skin. You’re content and tired. You hum as a smile tugs the corners of your mouth.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Why you aren’t startled is a hope you don't admit aloud, a greedy, gluttonous vice that piles on to a reality you cannot share with a single living soul except…

Steve Rogers, the fugitive Captain America, crouches outside your window, nimble and stealthy, having climbed to the slant of roof without you noticing.

But you wished for him. You always wish for him to come back.

Your smile grows as you slide off the edge of your bed and press your hand to the pane of glass. He mirrors the gesture, unhurried, soft. It’s just a moment more before you lift the latches and invite him in.

Whispers of ‘hey’ are exchanged while Steve crawls through, but he only answers your surprised “what are you doing here?” with a kiss to your forehead and a long hug.

You taught him how to hug like that. He's taken it to another level as anxiety melts out of you faster than it did in the bath.

His warm skin smells of pine and leather, likely from wearing his decrepit Cap suit to sneak around the woods behind your house. It fits his mountain-man vibe these days--full beard, hair curling beneath his ears, desperate loneliness he uses you to brighten.

You're not sure Steve comprehends how much light he brings to your life in return, but you soak up what you can.

He stands tall, still grinning, and drops a small, structured backpack to the floor. From it he pulls a pastry box, a little pack of candles, and a lighter. He goes through the entire process of preparing your cupcake in his palm before stretching out his hand.

The tiny, flickering flame shimmers in his twilight eyes.

“Happy birthday, Tops.”

As you gently take your treat, it occurs to you that you’ve never told Steve Rogers your birthday.

“How did you know?”

Technically, the question is casual, but you’re still curious.

His eyebrows shoot up, dramatic and comical shadows cast across his handsome features.

“Well, see, in my…position—” Wax drips onto the towering icing while Steve rubs his neck, guilty and avoiding your eyes. “I have to take certain…precautions, and I was just—”

“Did you look me up? Online? Do some research, huh? Check up on me?”

You’re teasing him, but it is fun to see the huge man kneeling at your bedside squirm. His blush is crimson in the candlelight.

You poke his burly shoulder. “You were checkin’ me out…”

“It’s not like that,” he whispers. “Anyway, make a wish, birthday girl.” Steve pushes the cupcake higher in your hold, encouraging you with a wry smile.

Your breath is swift and precise, your desire so clear at the forefront of your mind that picking a wish—another wish, since he’s already here—takes no time at all.

Steve maneuvers himself to sit up on your bed, pulling you to into his lap.

“Good surprise?”

“The best,” you whisper.

You remove the candle and hold the bottom to Steve’s lips. “Lick.”

He sucks off the icing slowly, keeping his eyes locked with yours.

You playfully run your finger through the frosting and taste it, too. If you ever told him your favorite cake flavor, you can’t remember that either, but he clearly knows.

“Tasty?” he asks, a swipe of his tongue wetting his lips.

“Uh-huh.”

You take another dollop and offer your finger to him.

He chuckles. “It’s all yours. I’m not fond of super-sweet things.”

“Oh?” You let the whipped, buttery sugar dissolve in your mouth, thinking. “You’re fond of me, so…are you saying I’m not sweet?”

Your concern is overly dramatic, but Steve stares, biting his bottom lip. “No.”

“Then what do I add to the flavor?” You pull down a corner of crimped paper to try the cake itself. He’s still pondering when you clean lingering stickiness off your thumb.

“Clarity,” Steve finally says. “You offer clarity in a very blurry life.”

His hand on your back shifts to cradle your head, bringing you closer until you’re captured in an intense but chaste kiss. He cups your cheek in his other palm and licks across your sweet lips until you open for him. Steve devours you like you are the real treat, uncaring if his offering splats on the floor. It’s not on fire anymore, so who cares?

Something else occurs to you, jolting you to break away.

“How long can you stay?”

Steve pets down his beard, restarting his brain. “Till morning, I guess, but then I should go. I don’t want to ruin any of your other plans.”

Unbidden, you inhale swiftly and are overtaken by a yawn.

He’s wildly amused by that. “Tired, Tops?”

“No,” you lie, feeling another one coming on. “If I eat the rest of this, I’ll have energy.”

“Or—“ Steve plucks the confection away before you can slam it in two bites flat “—you can finish this for breakfast and get some sleep.”

You whine in protest because every minute you sleep is a minute with him wasted. He senses exactly that.

“I promise to stay right here all night. Come on. Get comfy.”

He repackages your cupcake to keep it fresh while you crawl into bed. You’ve never seen Steve have to remove his suit, and to watch, it looks tedious and involved.

“Took a second to master, I tell ya,” he mutters once the top is off.

Another minute and he’s shuffling under the covers beside you, aligning his body to snuggle yours, keeping you facing him.

Again his hand finds your cheek, his thumb brushing across your skin gently. He’s purposefully lulling you, placing the most delicate kisses over your forehead, his beard tickling your nose and making it scrunch up.

“Sorry,” he breathes.

You tilt upwards to steal the apology right from his lips. Usually, your time together is dictated by his needs, even if he doesn’t ask for the attention. It’s uplifting to have no worry of caring for him explicitly. This is just you with him, zero pressure, tons of love, nothing between.

“Hey, Steve?”

You wait for the deep rumble of a hum from his chest

“Thank you. I don’t think I ever said that.”

He smiles against your mouth, breaking away with a swift double peck.

“My pleasure, sweetheart.” He pulls you flush to his chest, sighing happily when you toss your leg over his hip. “Happy birthday,” Steve whispers into your hair. “Thank you for letting me in.”

You fall asleep with him everywhere, in your arms, in your lungs, and in your heart. Your wish is that he never leaves, and for tonight, he’s doing the best he can to make your every wish come true.

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

@mrsevans90 @lemonadygirl @umadirectioner @mrschandlerbing @as-white-as-snow-love

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #nomad steve #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x female reader #steve x reader #hideout series #touchstarved!Steve #touchstarved mc #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america fluff

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greycaelum · 5 months ago

Note

Hi Grey! How was ur week? Question for Yakuza Satoru: he got tattoos, but what kind and where? This series fits Gojo-Zenin rivalry so well. Can totally see Naoya being crazy jealous of Satoru, to the point of dying…

So late reply, forgive this tardy woman! Just finished 2 sems in uni and now I still have to do summer but it's manageable so here I am again Quite rusty if I must say, writer's block at its finest...

Thank you for your interest in Coasts and Altitudes, fingers crossed on the next update! With lots of hugs from Grey~

[Pic link] CTTO

"Did it hurt...?" Your eyes flickered as you stared at the elaborate irezumi painting on his broad back, it covered a few old scars, scabs of rose pink peaking a bit on the spaces between the vivid inks, obscuring but not totally hiding the gashes from your sight.

"Mnnn?" Your husband looked back as he searched for a shirt in the closet. he's only wearing cotton shorts and a towel over his shoulder, walking topless around your home since the staff were out for the weekend except for some of his subordinates guarding the perimeter of the house. You've been married for already a month, but still, it's hard to remain focused every time he goes around naked.

"The irezumi... did it hurt?" You bit the insides of your mouth when he faced you with his inked pecs and hard 8-packs distracting your sight. He remained unbeknownst or probably playing clueless as he walked towards you and asked you to dry his hair.

"Not really, I got used to the pain." He shrugged as you kneeled on the bedside behind him and ruffled his hair with the towel. For a man depicted as rough and the violent shady business he deals with daily, Satoru has a penchant of asking you to do domestic and mundane stuff for him.

Your hands stopped drying his hair as you slowly traced the ink much to his amusement.

"What's wrong, princess?" He purrs.

You couldn't answer as you stared at the dragon holding the close lotus form. This oriental dragon represents strength combined with wisdom and usually is benevolent, a protector against those who might usurp control... yet somehow, countless flowers scattered around the dragon, you couldn't quite understand it... not to mention Satoru's chest is still not inked.

"What does your irezumi mean? I can't understand it..." You've seen many irezumi from your father's men, all of them are unique but you've never seen anything compare to Satoru's.

Satoru looked back at you, mirth swirling in his bright eyes, but seeing you can't meet his gaze with how fixated you are in his back he face front to let you stare at his irezumi for now. He opened his mouth, thinking of how to start.

"I wanted to have a Karashishi beast instead of the Ryu, but the person I wanted to protect left... and I need to guard my family's so I chose the dragon..."

You couldn't speak... you already know what he means.

"This peony..." You looked at the lonesome peony on his top left shoulder. "It suits you, wealth and prosperity with your devil-may-care attitude." You swallowed the awkward reply on the tip of your tongue and tried to hide your hesitant tone.

"I couldn't think of anything more to remember you so I chose the Sakura, thinking I needed to remind myself I was just a fleeting moment of your childhood. I would just stay here, protecting my family or else I would've come running after you like a lap dog... I would've begged you to spare attention to me, I don't have a good sense of self control when it's about you."

A fleeting moment of childhood, huh? Your fingers traced the cherry blossoms littered over the dragon. And whose fault was it for pushing you away years ago saying he can only see you as a younger sister? You scoffed and curled your nails on the biggest cherry blossom making him groan.

Satoru turns around and pushes you down the bed, the mattress cushioning you as he plants his arms on the sides of your head. Climbing on top of you as he pushes away the stray hair framing your eyes.

"I've always known even 15 years ago you would cover me with scars... Now that you're finally tied to me I can get that karashishi and perhaps some momiji to add it..."

"Where are you going to put it?"

He chuckled and raised a brow as he took your hand and placed it on his chest.

"On where you'll always be."

Footnotes:

Karashishi "Lion Dog": The local Shinto religion of Japan, which pre-dates Buddhism, also has a lion protector, with a red head, who drives away evil spirits and brings health and wealth. No matter the origin though, the Fu Lion is fundamentally protective, strong, and courageous.

Ryu "Dragon": Oriental dragons are equally at home in the air or in the water. Usually embodying wisdom, strength and manipulating the forces of the universe for the benefit of people. Dragon can also clutch in one of his claws an object that is variously shown as a ball, a pearl, or a jewel, also known as “the closed-lotus form” essentially the essence of the universe, to control the winds, rains, fire and even the planets. This item is essentially seen in various Buddhist designs including temples and grave markers. It represents the spiritual essence of the universe, by which the dragon controls and protects it from those who might usurp those powers.

Sakura "Cherry Blossom": For Japanese imagery, the beautiful period of its flowering and then the all too soon fading and subsequent scattering of petals on the wind, symbolize life itself. The fragility of the cherry blossom is the fragility of human existence. they represent mortality, love, magnificent beauty, and sudden death. It is regarded by all as a good omen.

Botan "Peony": It is regarded as a symbol of wealth, good fortune, and prosperity. In addition, though, it also suggests a sort of gambling, daring, and even a masculine devil-may-care attitude, quite unlike its character in the west.

Momiji "Maple Leaves": In Japan, it’s also the symbol of lovers. A single leaf or a multitude of leaves are also potent symbols of regeneration and resurrection as they cycle through the seasons.

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

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All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld @loml-riri @pelicanpizza @emichou-chan

#[—coast & altitudes]#jjk mafia au #jjk yakuza au #yakuza gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #married gojo satoru #gojo x you #mafia gojo #jjk mafia #yandere gojo x reader

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goldenhourwriter · 1 year ago

Text

•✮🕷️𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐤𝐢𝐝🕷️✮•

part one (you are here) • part two •

⋆pairing: miguel o’hara x wife!reader

⋆warning(s): i guess just fighting and some cursing. and threatening to bite someone lol. also i got translations from spanish dict, if i did something wrong, please correct me. i tried to use the right definitions/context to use those definitions in! also pregnancy.

⋆a/n: this was so fun to write! requests are open, and i am new to this blog, so hang on while i get this all figured out. requests are open, and this will be a mini series i am continuing!!

It’s not usually this quiet at the Spider Society.

It’s nice.

I walk around, humming softly to myself as I munch on a banana, a craving I usually get. I let my hand rest on my slightly swollen belly, my suit especially made to let it stretch and give the baby some room.

Yeah, ever heard of a pregnant Spider-Woman?

It happened a couple of months ago, as married couples tend to let happen. It’s twins, actually. One boy and one girl, but, my husband doesn’t know yet. Doesn’t want to know. I called the doctor anyways, and even though he threw a hissy fit that could rival a toddler, he relented and said it was fine.

And, it was kind of nice being alone. A lot of the spider-people tend to do things for me, think I’m incapable of doing things now because I’m pregnant. Even the ridiculous Spider-Man T-Rex gave me a ride through the halls. I snort at the thought, gaining some weird looks.

Obviously, I didn’t refuse. Who would pass up a ride on a freaking dinosaur?

My few 30 minutes of bliss, however, was interrupted by the beeping on my watch. I tap on it and smile when I see Lyla. She gives a wave.

“Hey, big wifey,” she teases, pushing up her pink, heart-shaped glasses. I roll my eyes. Everyone knows I hate that name. It doesn’t make me feel fat, it just makes me very aware of the two babies living inside of me, and how very uncomfortable life can really get.

“Hey, algorithm girl, what’s up?” I shoot back with sarcasm. I am met with satisfaction as she gives me a dead-pan look.

“Haha, very funny, love that,” she says sarcastically. “Your husband is struggling with an anomaly. Earth-65, some kind of Renaissance bird-man.”

I giggle at the thought. I can imagine his annoyance. “Gotcha, and did he actually call for back up?” I ask, but i already know the answer. I take another bite of my banana, shifting my weight onto my right leg. I can never stand still for too long, luckily, being a super hero can keep me moving. Keeps the babies satisfied.

She snorts at me, like i was making some hilarious, un-heard of joke. I relent, sighing and preparing my bracelet to go to the universe she said he was in.

“Alright, alright. How long do you think until he actually asks?”

“I’d give you about two minutes. He’s getting really thrown around with this one. And there’s another spider person, trying to ask him too many questions.”

My eyes perk back up to the hologram when she mentions this. “I haven’t heard of a recruit from Earth-65, is she new?” I ponder out loud. I cock my head to the side, adjusting my mask. Well, half mask. It really only covers my eyes. Lyla nods. “Yup, she’s a new one. She’s a nice kid, too.”

I smile.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

Lyla logs off and I sigh, patting my baby bump. “Alright, you guys,” I whisper to my belly. I stick out my hand and the portal opens, and I jump in. I shout with joy, flying through the portal, and as I practically fall to the other end, my hair whips around.

I fall on the other end, and I groan as my hair blocks my vision. I hear grunting, crushing, wings flapping, and snappy remarks being thrown about, but I can’t see anything. I flip my hair over my head, shaking it out.

“I need a hair tie on these things,” I mumble to myself.

I look over, and I see a feminine-looking spider-hero staring at me. I give her a small wave. Her eyes are wide, I can tell. I examine her suit, which seems like it holds up pretty well. It has hood, which is new to me, and she’s wearing…are those ballet flats? I smile

“Hey, babes! You look cute!” I compliment to the get up.

She waves back again, and she looks down at my stomach. “Are you….?” She trails off. I look down, and put a hand on my hip. “Yep, I am. It’s twins, but don’t tell my husband the sexes yet. He wants to wait.” She nods, but seems to remember that she doesn’t know just who my husband is. She takes a step towards me.

“Who are you married to? Are there even more people like us?” I nod.

“My husband’s right….” I don’t even flinch as he gets thrown into the wall right in front of me, and I smile. “There.”

He groans as he slips to get up, his mask eyes squinting at me. I squint my eyes right back.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m carrying your children,” I scold. He gestured to the giant creature that hurls towards us. “I need help here!” He shouts at me. Lyla puts up on my shoulder, and we both cross our arms. He sighs, looking down.

“Please, Y/N? Sabes que no me gusta mendigar,(You know I don’t enjoy begging),“ He pleads quietly.

Vulture screeches at us. “Love truly makes me sick,” he narrates out loud, and he reaches his talons out for me. I stuck out my wrists and web up one wing, so he goes sideways, just barely missing me. He breaks free, but I web up behind him again.

“Your attitude makes me sick!” I shout at him. “You seem like the Beethoven of your area, jerky, cold, and not the greatest people-person!” I struggle to speak as I try to web him up again, but it doesn’t work. He barrels towards me, and grabs me in his talons. I hear Miguel growl and leap off the ground, landing on his back. He tugs on the man’s feathers, making him spin around to try and find him. I take the opportunity to web myself away from his grasp, kicking him away as I do so.

“Is this guy made of paper?” I ask, rubbing my hands together as I take a moment to actually register what just happened. Miguel grunts, and yells as he speaks to me from the bottom of the building. “Honey, I love your voice, but I really need you to use your actions right now!”

I spot a few witnesses trapped behind some rubble, so I shoot off the side of the wall to swoop them up. They scream, clutching onto me, and I drop them off right by a big police officer. He gawks at me, and I give him salute as Miguel webs me up again. I twist up, getting wrapped in his webbing, and I break free using a kick, hitting Vulture square in the jaw with my foot. He grunts in pain, squeezing his eyes shut, and Miguel uses this moment to try and guide him down, so he won’t escape.

I land right next to, what’s her name? I’ll learn it soon enough. I land right next to the teen as she stares at me. I smirk at her.

“What, never seen two married spiders?”

She swallows. “Can you adopt me?”

“What?”

“What? Nothing! Nothing!”

Miguel groans, and I can tell he’s growing tired. “¡Por Dios! ¿Puedes dejar de hablar por un momento? (Oh, my God. Can you stop talking for a moment?)” He calls out to me. I let out a heavy sigh, putting my hands on my knees. “I’m sorry, but your babies are making it hard to move right now!” I shout at him. Gwen webs away from me, and Miguel lands right next to me again. “Last time I checked, it took two people to make those two babies,” he grumbles. We take a moment and watch as Gwen tries to take down Vulture by herself.

I look at Miguel, and raise my eyebrows. “Did she call ya ‘Dark Garfield?’” I ask. He groans, and I can tell hair eyes shut as his head falls forward. “Yes.”

I giggle. “I like her. Maybe we can recruit-“ “No. No, we can’t, and you know why.” My somewhat playful attitude disappears with a frown, and I nod in compliance. He grabs my waist and he swings us up, and then we fall onto the Vulture back again. I scream through gritted teeth as I try to hold him down on the ground, but he flings me off, a sudden, new found strength in him.

“What the hell?” I curse. “Not cool, man!”

“This ends now,” he says to me, and he springs upward. I curse under my breath again, but it seems Miguel is on top of it. Literally.

“If he gets out, this whole universe will collapse!” He shouts, mainly at Gwen. I know the risks involved, having to save almost every universe from them every day. I shoot my wrist out, but I groan. I hit my web shooters, but nothing comes out. “Fuck-Miguel! I’m out!” I try to jump from floor to floor, but I quickly get nauseous while doing that. I look down at my stomach again, poking it. “So web slinging is fine but jumping is what doesn’t please you guys?” I ask the unborn babies. I get a mere kick in return. “I know that was the girl. That was way too sassy,” I grumble to myself.

Spider-Girl lands right beside me, and she looks at my husband and he battles Vulture. They both crash right through the glass ceiling, and we shield ourselves from the shards that could possibly cut us. She looks at me.

“What is he gonna do?” She asks. Miguel takes the Vulture’s face in his hands, and opens his mouth, wide, baring his fangs and giving a loud roar. “Oh snap,” whispers under his breath. But, he’s cut short, when a helicopter shines a light on him. He yells at the helicopter, his mask coming up again to cover his face.

“I’m a good guy! I’m here to help!” He desperately explains. My spider senses then go off, and I scream up to Miguel.

“Miguel! Watch-!“

I’m too late. Vulture throws two weapons at the helicopter, and then the helicopter starts to spin, going down, and fast.

“Shit.” All three of us say in unison.

I look to the kid, and she’s already looking at me. I nod towards her, and she returns the gesture, and we both know what that means. She launches off the floor, and she begins to web a net. I take a deep breath. “Alright, babies, don’t make me throw up,” I say sternly to my unborn babies.

I leap off the ground, and I fly through the middle of the helicopter, grabbing the two pilots and landing on the fourth floor of the building. I grunt as I roll on the ground with them, and we writhe in pain.

I turn to the both of them, checking on them, and I run to the edge, well, the mess that made the edge. I look down, and the teenage girl is flying through the air, webbing up a net. And just as the helicopter is about to crash, she flies right underneath it, just barely getting nipped by the chopper.

She lands, breathing heavily.

“Wow,” I whisper. Miguel hops a bit in front of me, landing on some rubble.

“I was gonna do that,” he says quietly to himself. I can tell he’s thinking her, thinking about her hard. Miguel and I share a glance at her, and she nods. She turns and hops down from the huge rock, and goes back towards the wall, out of sight. I turn and see the two pilots staring at me. I smile.

“Yeah, I know, there’s lots of freaky spider people, that was my reaction too. Cmon, let’s get you two a medic.” I reach down and offer my hand to them, which they take, one at a time. I help them to the big opening in the building where the door used to be, and I hand them over to some officers.

I sigh, turning around to find my husband surveying the area.

I walk up to him, putting a hand on his back, feeling his tense and rigid muscles, alert and still in attack mode. He seems to relax a little at my touch, and he lets his mask down. I grin, amusement

“Your hair is all messed up.” “Can you and I have one good moment after a battle where you don’t make fun of my hair?” “Absolutely not.”

He lets out a low growl, rolling his eyes. I walk a little in front of him, and stare at the place where the teen escaped to, hearing some grunting from there. No doubt she’s recovering on her own. My hand comes to rest on my stomach, my thumb running over the bump. I turn back to Miguel, my mouth open to speak, but he beats me to it.

“I said no,” he rejects me as he leans down to pick up some broken machinery. He scoffs at some poor excuse for art. “I’m starting to think Vulture did everyone a favor by destroying this place, this art sucks-“

“Miguel O'Hara, no cambies de tema,” I say sternly. He lets out a sigh. Spanish isn’t even my main language, so when I speak it, he knows I’m not messing around. He spins around, holding a figurine of a balloon dog in his hand. I would find it comedic, a big guy like him holding a small thing like that, but not when he’s trying to avoid my questions.

“You know we can use her. I’ve never seen anything like her, and she even beat you to one of your moves. You have to agree with me on this!” I gesture out in front of me, as if the conversation is laid out in front of us. Miguel sighs, walking up to me with his hands on his hips. His expression is hard, but his eyes give it away. He’s considering it, it helps if I’ve spent about a couple years with him now.

He brings his hand to my waist and another to my hair, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead.

“Te amo demasiado a veces,” he mumbles into my hair.

Okay, that gives me absolutely nothing.

His hand travel down to my stomach, and his two very large hands splay over my tummy. His lips quirk up a bit as one of them kicks against my skin. “Did you do okay today?” He asks quietly, referring to my very pregnant self. I nod, but it doesn’t seem to reassure him.

Vulture struggles next to us, but we just give him an annoyed look. “I’m done with your attitude!” Miguel tells him, pointing at him. He sighs, turning back to me, grabbing my waist and pulling me impossibly closer, so we’re basically sharing the same breathe. My stomach flutters. Even after marrying him, he really can have the same affect on me from when I was a new recruit.

“You know you can always opt out whenever, I can call for other backup,” he says quietly. He’s trying to spare my feelings, not letting others hear so I won’t get embarrassed. I’m never embarrassed, it’s life, I got pregnant, but I appreciate the sentiment. I lean up and kiss his nose.

“I know, thank you, but really, I’m fine.” I stick a hand up as he begins to protest. “At 7 months, I will take maternity leave. I’ll rest and just be the desk person, okay?” I ask. He debates it for a moment, and lets out a grunt and nods. We stay in our somewhat embrace for a bit, when we hear a gun shot. My head whips to where Spider-Woman went and hid, and I look at Miguel.

His mask forms again, and he kicks Vulture, telling him to be still as he picks him up. Miguel picks me up with his other arm and swings to the opening as we fall in.

“Dad, please!” She begs the cop standing across from her. Miguel shoots a containment pod at him, and she runs towards him. I grab her by the shoulders, trying to use my softest voice.

“Hey, hey, kid. Hey, it’s okay, we’re here, we got you,” I say quietly to her. She’s crying as she clutches onto my arm, staring at her dad. Miguel opens a portal, and I give the kid one more pat and walk over to him.

“What are we gonna do?” I whisper to him. He looks at me. “What do you mean?”

I roll my eyes.

“We can’t just leave her here!” I get a bit louder, but he shushes me, putting a finger up. My jaw drops.

“You did not just shush me,” I growl.

“Oh, I think I did.”

“Oh, I know you didn’t-!”

Miguel and I bicker back and forth, and at some point, Vulture voluntarily hops into the portal, all tied up, not wishing to stick around. I stick my finger up as I try to argue with him, my hand coming to my hip, and he towers over me, but that never took away my edge.

Then, some sniffling gets us to shut up.

The kid looks at us, her eyes watery and wide. She looks like what she is…a teenager who’s lost and alone. She opens her mouth to speak. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

I look slowly at Miguel, and he lets his head hang forward.

“Yeah, well….”

I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Join the club.”

🕷️ 💍

#miguel x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 #spider man #spider man into the spider verse #across the spider verse spoilers #miles morales #gwen stacy

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