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#followed by boss. I don't know how I feel about Date because it almost feels like his personality changes after hitting a certain point

softpine · 2 months

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shows up extremely late to the @tricoufamily cas challenge with a half baked mafia concept like just hear me out guys hear me out....

dynamic: mentor/mentee genre: crime

sim 1: DONNA trait: boisterous hair color: platinum blonde hair length: medium extra: glasses

sim 2: CHIARRA trait: jealous hair color: dark brown hair length: extra long extra: freckles

i don't know a single goddamn thing about the mob, i've never even watched the sopranos ❗❗ now that we've gotten that out of the way

it's the late 80s, and chiarra (brunette) is fresh out of cosmetology school and looking for a job as a hair stylist. she ends up renting a booth at a salon on one condition: the property owner, a man with major ties to the mob, wants to take her on a date first. she's charmed by his charisma and loves how close he is with his family, something chiarra never had much of. within a year, the two are married and chiarra has ingratiated herself in the community, however she's quite unpopular with the other ladies. she's seen as a gold digger and an outsider because she didn't grow up in this life. but her job as a hair stylist is secured permanently thanks to her husband.

this is how she meets donna (blonde). donna is kind of a big fucking deal from what chiarra has heard through the grapevine, so she gets nervous and ends up badlyyy messing up her hair the first time she comes in to the salon. she's surprised to find that donna thinks it's hilarious – but she warns her that not everyone would've taken it so lightly, especially because chiarra's husband is not an incredibly influential person to begin with, unlike donna's husband who's like. the boss. but donna takes a liking to her, something the other wives find equal parts annoying and frightening.

through the early years of chiarra's marriage, donna acts as a mentor figure and a listening ear because she's been through it many years ago. but there comes a point where chiarra discovers her husband has been cheating on her, and she's shocked when donna waves it off as something that just sort of happens to all of them. chiarra becomes furious and refuses to accept this when she's been nothing but loyal to him. but instead of confronting her husband, possibly losing her marriage and the new family she's gained, she makes the decision to follow in his footsteps. she carries out secret affairs for a while; just one night stands and brief flings, so her husband won't get suspicious. donna finds it entertaining and turns it into a game, often covering for her. she's always been a gossip, so it's easy for her to keep an ear out for what people are saying about chiarra and deflect suspicion if she needs to.

one night, while their husbands are away, the wine starts flowing and the two of them just go for it. it's quick and they don't even particularly enjoy it because the guilt creeps in almost immediately. in decades of marriage, donna has never betrayed her husband no matter how many times he's done the same. and though chiarra is no stranger to stepping out of her marriage, she hasn't had romantic feelings for anyone but him since they've been together, let alone feelings for another woman.

donna and chiarra try to put some space between themselves, but they both know it's too little too late – and considering they've been inseparable since they met, their distance draws more suspicion than their closeness ever had. without donna there to protect her, chiarra is forced to realize just how disliked she is in her community, and how much donna had been doing to bolster her image. but she doesn't just want everything to go back to normal, she wants more than that. she's determined to make sure donna knows what she's missing out on, taking every opportunity to make her jealous and push her buttons.

this push and pull between them continues until donna learns that her husband has been arrested for racketeering and other crimes -- and it seems that the charges are actually going to stick this time. worst of all, the latest gossip is that chiarra had something to do with it. but is this just chiarra's bad reputation preceding her? would she really do something so dangerous and hurtful just to get donna back? and if it's true, what is donna going to do in retaliation?

thanks for reading my wattpad story :3 r&r plz xDD

#one of my favorite dynamics is ''we had bad forgettable sex 1 time and now we can never be normal again :///''#many such cases #ts4 #why is ts4 trending right now

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starlostastronaut · 6 months

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DAY 08 | GOT NO REGRETS

PAIRING: seo changbin x reader

GENRE: fluff, crack

WC: 0.68k

CW: teri trying to be funny again

PROMPT: stealing his clothes

i think this is the shortest one yet, but i literally had zero ideas. also i wrote it with reader being the same as in the last oneshot, because it seemed funnier that way. like at some point they started dating and this is how it looks like lol. anyway i hope you enjoy <3

title from i ain't worried - one republic

general masterlist here

<< previous | mctc masterlist | next >>

"Yah, have you seen my gym hoodie?” Changbin's voice rang through the rooms as he shouted from your bedroom. You were all the way across the apartment in the kitchen, busy with making coffee. “No!” you yelled back and placed one of the cups you made on the counter. You knew Changbin would appreciate it when he came by the kitchen to get some kind of breakfast before going to the gym.

You headed to the living room with the other cup in your hands, enjoying the warmth emanating from it. It was an early winter morning, which meant that the apartment was still a bit cold and it would take some time to heat up. But Changbin wanted to go to the gym early, and despite his best efforts, he still woke you up. Upon having decided it's not worth going to sleep for the extra hour before you have to get ready for work, you got up and began helping him get ready for the gym. That meant only making the coffee, because Changbin was a big boy who could get ready on his own.

Carefully, as to not spill even a drop of your precious coffee, you sat down on the couch and tucked your legs underneath you. While warming your hands on the cup of coffee and also waiting for it to be a drinkable temperature, you watched the chaos of Changbin getting ready with a smirk on your face.

There was an open bag on the floor with about half of his gym stuff in it, and the rest was scattered everywhere in the line of sight. Changbin suddenly emerged from the bathroom, dressed in matching black sweatpants and a tank top. As he walked past you, your eyes followed him. You were never one to pass up an opportunity to ogle at his arms, not feeling even a slight bit of shame.

Just as he was about to disappear into another room, Changbin abruptly stopped, walked a few steps back, and looked at you. He raised his eyebrow, and his eyes went over your whole figure, which was drowning in a dark blue hoodie. You gave him your best innocent smile. “What? It's warm and comfortable,” you shrugged and took a sip of your coffee.

Changbin sighed. “But I need it for the gym,” he said, standing in front of you with his hands crossed over his chest. He tried giving you the “I'm the boss here” look, but all it did was make you laugh so much that you almost spilled the coffee all over yourself.

“I'm sorry, Binnie, but I can't take you seriously when you look like that,” you said in between giggles. You saw the intention behind his attitude; nonetheless, he looked more like an angry Pomeranian puppy. Just so adorable. You laughing only made him angrier, but you could see he was fighting for his life to keep the facade up a little longer. He once told you that your laugh makes him laugh too. And you would never miss a chance to make him laugh. And if the bonus was also making fun of him... It was all out of love, of course. He teased you just as much.

“Seems like you'll need to take a different one.” You said it as if it were already decided.

“Or you could get up and wear something else,” Changbin countered. "Preferably from your own closet."

You winked at him. “Don't pretend you don't love seeing me in your clothes, Binnie.”

Knowing he had lost this argument, he went back to the bedroom. When he came back, he was holding another one of his hoodies, this one in a light shade of grey. Immediately realizing what his idea was, you put your coffee aside and raised both of your arms. Changbin sighed, but helped you take off his gym hoodie and replace it with the one he brought. You could swear you heard him mutter something along the lines of “Seriously? You big baby.” but you decided to let it slide this time.

taglist: @stayconnecteed @saintriots @vivioluh @ivaneedssleep @jazziwritesthings @darkypooo

©starlostastronaut 2023 | do not repost/translate my work without permission

#moony's countdown to christmas #mctc #stray kids x reader #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin #fluff #crack

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liz-allyn · 1 year

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sugar and vice, pt. 17 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: time for a reckoning.

words: 9.5k

chapter warning: angst. bitter feelings.. description of a shooting.

series warnings: mob-typical violence, bang bang shoot shoot, whomp. hurt/comfort. s*xu*l situations. spousal ab^se. family trauma. dr^g use. coercion. manipulation. kidnapping. gore. blood. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. ‘only ten one bed oops’ trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. extremely toxic relationships.

This version of TASM Peter is not canon. The relationships and characters here are not healthy.

Don't date a mob boss.™️

18+ You’re responsible for your own media consumption, but if you don't remember when TVs were square, you should not be here.

Back to Part 16.

Part 17

Twelve hours after she last saw Peter, she emerged from her bedroom for the first time. It was already past lunchtime, but she didn’t have much of an appetite. Wearing a comfortable athleisure set with a soft fleece half-zip pullover (with plenty of pockets), she took only a glance down the hallway at Peter’s door. The door to the primary bedroom was closed, shrouded in shadow.

“If you’re lookin’ for ‘em, he’s not here,” a feminine voice called from downstairs. It was Felicia.

Honey followed the sound and padded down the stairs to see the other woman standing next to Rex’s terrarium. With her long, silver hair flowing down her back, she leaned down and curiously watched Rex chase after a tiny swarm of crickets. Her eyes were focused with morbid curiosity, tongue poking slightly out of her lip as she studied how the lizard moved. He darted around in the blink of an eye, gobbling up the tiny insects and crushing them in his jaws. He was so much faster when he had something to hunt.

“Didn’t know you were here,” Honey said, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. “Got a meeting or something?”

“Nah, I’m on my lunch break,” she smirked. “Mafia stuff works up an appetite.” She straightened her back and let out a long sigh. “Wanna go do somethin’?”

Her brow furrowed. “What?”

“Well,” Felicia explained, “I was thinkin’ we could hang out. Just us girls. Get some lunch. Go get our nails done. Do some shopping. Stop by the hospital and snap a few x-rays?”

Honey’s shoulders slumped, her face falling flat. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Felicia replied teasingly. “I heard you almost took a flaming bumper to the face. Pretty close call. Then again, I’ve had worse dates, though—”

“What did Peter tell you?” Honey asked sharply, her lips pressed together.

Felicia furrowed her brows. “All he told me was that you should probably see a doctor,” she frowned, disappointed at the hostility. “Nothin’ else.”

Honey rolled her eyes. “You ever get tired of doing what he tells you to do?”

Felicia blinked her long plush lashes several times, then replied calmly. “I’m not here because he told me to be. I’m here because I thought you needed a friend.” Honey swallowed hard, glancing away toward the bright windows and letting the light burn her eyes. “But if that’s not something you need right now, I get that too. Just say so.”

She sighed, and when she faced Felicia again, her eyes were red-rimmed. A lump settled in her throat, and her voice was a weak murmur. “It’s not the pain that bothers me. It’s the fear.”

She bit down on her jaw to steady it, attempting to ward off tears with her loathing. She looked over at Felicia to see the woman watching her patiently, brows pinched together with concern.

“For a second there, I thought I was gonna die,” she explained grimly. “I saw the flash... and I felt the heat— and I-I thought I was already dead.” Her eyes misted over, and she brought the back of her hands up to rub them angrily. She sniffed. “I was going to die and couldn’t do anything about it. I’d rather break every bone in my body than feel that again. I’d rather die, th-than feel...”

She couldn’t finish the sentence, biting down on her tongue. She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. She flung out a million curse words in her brain, admonishing herself for crying in front of Felicia. Self-loathing bubbled up in her chest. A cruel, bitter chuckle escaped her throat as she reminisced over her suggestion to ‘embrace her power.’ It was a joke to think she had anything of the sort.

“Helpless,” Felicia supplied solemnly.

Honey glanced up at her. Blinking with surprise, she observed how the other woman held herself. Arms crossed tight in front of her chest. Whatever difficulty Honey had with eye contact, Felicia had it worse. The taller woman pressed her lips together, grimacing.

When the two women finally met each other’s eyes, Honey was perplexed. It wasn’t pity on Felicia’s face—not like she’d feared. Instead, there was a painful solidarity between them.

As Honey opened her mouth to speak, Felicia strode up to her, arms extended. Then, too quickly and perhaps too awkwardly, the taller woman hunched down and pulled her into a tight embrace.

Honey gasped at the action. She was hugging her. Honey wasn’t tall enough to place her chin on Felicia’s shoulder. Instead, she leaned into the hug, resting her chin against her clavicle.

Awkward as it was, it was a very pleasant hug. The smaller woman returned it as best she could, despite the throbbing ache in her side. At that moment, she could look past that pain and allow herself to feel the embrace.

Felicia gave good hugs, she decided.

Tears welled up in Honey’s eyes, and she allowed herself to feel those, too.

Thirty-six hours after she last saw Peter, she curiously poked her head into the empty primary bedroom to see it untouched. Sheets were pristine and smoother than glass. His toothbrush and toiletries were missing from the bathroom.

Peter had granted her wish. Both of them—it appeared, including the request she made before their shoot-out at the arcade. She wanted space, and now she had it.

Not only had Peter not made an appearance, but every faceless guard had strangely vacated the penthouse. It was quiet in the morning haze. Peaceful.

She spent the day alone with Rex on her shoulder. They found plenty of things to do. After all, they were in a million-dollar home. They had endless hours of TV to watch. They had access to a full home gym (which she hadn’t bothered to enter until now and wasn’t going to while icing a hairline-fractured rib, no matter what Rex said about accountability). She had a library of beloved novels to read, a heated infinity pool on the roof, and a $5,000 coffee maker.

What more could she possibly need?

Thirty-seven hours after Peter, she noticed no more lights coming from the camera in her bedroom. Or in the hall. Or in the primary bedroom, or the great hall, or the terrace entrance, or the kitchen, or anywhere else she looked.

Thirty-eight hours after Peter.

Thirty-nine hours after Peter.

Forty hours after Peter.

Forty-six hours after Peter, she tucked herself into the covers of her own bed. She was exhausted, and the doctor-prescribed 4-6 hour pain medication had worn off.

She embraced the pain like it was her child. It was grounding and balanced the self-righteous anger that burned in her chest.

Peter wasn’t coming back tonight. It’s probably best, she thought.

He’s probably fucking someone else, she thought.

Probably best.

The third day without Peter brought a pleasant surprise. Hearing a knock at the front door, she rushed into the foyer with Rex on her shoulder. The knock itself was odd since no one ever knocked. No one asked for her permission to enter. The place wasn’t ‘hers’ to grant people entry to. Or was it?

Curiously, she pulled the door open, and her heart filled with joy. “Miles!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around the teen. Rex skittered around almost up on her head, displeased with the lack of personal space.

“Hey,” he chuckled, surprised as he returned the embrace, “whassup? I mean, I know I’m a sight for sore eyes, but—”

Grinning wide, she pulled back. “Hell yeah, you are! I’ve missed you so much! How are you? What are you doing here? What have you been up to?”

“Whoooaa,” he replied, hands outstretched. “We’ll get to all that later. First, can I come in?”

Honey flexed a brow. “Can you—you’re asking me?”

“I was asking Rex, but he doesn’t have thumbs.”

She blinked, stunned. “Ye-yeah, sure. Come in!”

“Cool! Alright, second thing—I’m hungry.”

Honey and Miles sat together on the floor in the TV room with empty boxes of Filipino takeout around them. Miles took the last lumpia roll after Honey insisted that she was stuffed. She had yet to learn where the skinny kid was putting all the food.

They spent several hours catching up on the latest teenage drama. Miles did most of the talking. He filled her ears with everything from his college applications, an opportunity he received to paint a mural at a local Boys and Girls Club, to the pretty girl he ran into (literally) while leaving a bodega. She was amused and engaged—and overall honored that he would share his stories with her and allow her to be a sounding board. She lamented not being able to do the same with her sisters.

On her part, Honey didn’t have much to say about her recent experiences, nor did she really want to. However, a question kept prickling the back of her mind.

“So. Um.” She cleared her throat, wiping her hands with a napkin as the hour grew late. “Have you, um, talked to Peter lately?”

Miles pressed his lips together, glancing at her briefly before his eyes fell to the ground. “Nah. Not directly.” Several moments of silence passed. “Haven’t seen ‘em since—” He bit his tongue. “For a while.”

She hummed in acknowledgment. “Probably a good idea,” she said.

Another pause. Miles watched her curiously. “I miss him.”

A bitter laugh she couldn’t contain burst from her lips. “I can’t imagine why.”

He raised a brow. “He’s not a bad person.”

She turned towards him accusingly. “How can you say that? You know what he is.” She connected the memory of Miles storming out of the penthouse after accusing him of being ‘on something,’ and the horrifying picture of Peter sticking a needle in his arm and becoming—something else. “You’ve seen what he’s done.”

“I have,” Miles nodded knowingly, although his tone didn’t suggest that he agreed with her. He shifted his position and gazed down at his shoes, losing himself in thought. “I’m worried about him, y’know.”

Honey rolled her eyes. “Miles. Seriously. You need to worry about yourself.” She connected with his eyes, imploring. “Peter is dangerous. The life he lives is dangerous. You need to stay as far away from him as you can.”

Miles fixed his gaze on her, studying her reaction. “I’ve known Peter since I was a kid.”

“You still are a kid—”

“I mean it,” he declared. Honey observed the resolve in his expression and silenced herself, allowing him to speak without interruption. “I’ve seen him when things are bad, yeah. But I’ve also seen him at his best. There’s good and bad in him. In everybody.”

Sighing, Honey listlessly nodded. “Two wolves. I know. I know.”

Another long silence filled the air, prompting her to look over at him. There was a darkened expression in his eyes, mouth in a tight line, as he gazed at the wall.

“Did I tell you I almost went to jail?” he asked. A crease formed between her eyebrows. She shook her head in confusion. “Yeah,” he added, nodding sadly. A dark cloud rested over him. “It was, um—It was a few years ago. Not long after my mom got hurt.” He crossed his arms tightly. “It was when we moved from Brooklyn. Things sucked that first year. I was in a school I didn’t like. Didn’t have any friends. My dad had to start dropping me off at the front because I didn’t want to go. It was embarrassing.”

The slightest glimmer of amusement tweaked his eye, and Honey grasped at it with a warm smile. Then, just as quickly as the light appeared, it went out again like a flame in the wind.

“I got into fights a lot,” Miles said without pride. “I was angry, y’know? A lot.”

With solemn eyes, she bit her lip, nodding. Violence was still somewhat new to her, at least from the perpetrating side. Anger she knew intimately.

“Everyone tried to talk to me about it. My counselors at school told my dad that I needed to see a therapist. But how was I supposed to talk to anybody? I couldn’t even tell them who I was, or what happened—”

His voice clipped. He swallowed hard. Her brows furrowed with concern as she watched tears well in his eyes.

“This one day, I don’t know. I lost it. I was walking home from school, and this kid from my class saw me. He was older than me, like 17 or something. This dude... sucked. Just not cool. Always messin’ with me. But on this day, I-I guess I wasn’t havin’ none of it. And I hit him. He went down, just one hit.” A smirk formed on his face. “It felt kinda good to shut him up.”

His half-smile faded, eyes darkening. “And then I hit him again. He was on the ground, and I-I just couldn’t stop.”

His voice was wracked with shame. Honey reached out and grabbed his hand, wrapping her fingers tightly around his.

“Next thing I know, I feel hands pulling me off,” he swallowed dryly. “I’m tryin’ to fight all of ‘em. I don’t know, I guess I thought— Like, I was back there? Where they took me.”

Tears welled in her eyes, as she sadly nodded with understanding.

“I kept fighting. Everyone. I wanted to hurt everyone—”

“Miles,” she said, heart aching. “None of that was your fault. You were probably having a flashback, you weren’t yourself—”

“Let me finish.”

She silenced herself, stowing her pity.

“Pete was the one that stopped me. He stopped me. He hugged me. Told me to go home. So I did what he said. When the cops came, they weren’t lookin’ for me. They were looking for him. He told them that he was the one who beat up that kid. Said he was a punk that needed a lesson.”

She sat motionlessly, stewing over the information. Miles looked up at her. “He took the fall for me. I asked him why. He saved my life, he got my family outta New York. Why do more than that? He said he believed in me. He saw what I did and believed I could be better than that. But if I had a record, no one was going to see past that.” His voice sounded tenser, stretched thin with emotion. “He saw me at my worst, and still—he tried to protect me. All he’s ever done since he got me outta that warehouse is try to protect me. Protect the people he cares about.”

Honey glanced away, her brows furrowed. Then, gently, she replied, “I understand why you feel that way, Miles. But he’s not just doing all this to protect us. He’s not keeping us safe.”

“Nah,” Miles nodded, shrugging with a half-smile. “Pete does what he does because he’s crazy. He’s messed up. Seriously.” She smirked back for a moment, the gesture failing to reach her eyes. “But I love ‘em, too. He’s family. That’s what families are for.”

Her heart cracked at his admission. She felt an overwhelming sense of pity for the teen. He was so pure. So naive.

Carefully choosing her words, she gently replied, “Miles, I’m not sure you fully realize what Peter’s capable of.”

He nodded, then said, “I am, though. He saved my life. That’s what he’s capable of.” He added thoughtfully. “That’s the Peter Parker I believe in. The kinda guy that’s gonna make a good dad someday.”

She observed him quietly, biting her tongue. The image of Peter holding a baby branded itself into her brain. She pictured him taking a hike near the mountain retreat with a small child sitting on his shoulders.

Was Peter a boy dad or a girl dad?

He was great with Miles in the moments that she saw them together. Peter had a knack for teaching. He gushed with enthusiasm when he’d explain a concept to Miles, whether nuclear fusion or chemical bonds. He made it sound interesting—even to her.

She could imagine Peter taking his boy by the hand and guiding him through the woods. Through adolescence. Struggling with the need to show them the world and all of its wonder and simultaneously wanting to shield him from it.

Then Honey remembered how Bella clung to Peter at her mom’s apartment. The child tugged on his pant leg, and he’d crouch down to meet her eyes. He didn’t patronize her when he spoke to her. He gave her his undivided attention, and Bella lit up inside to have it.

The memory of Bella pierced her heart, leaving a pang in her chest. “I don’t know about that,” Honey replied to Miles, her tone darker. “This is the same guy who has my niece hidden in a bunker somewhere.”

When she glanced over, Miles stared at her like she’d grown an extra arm. “What are you talking about?”

She sighed, eyes misty. “My niece, Bella. I miss her so much. Peter has her hidden somewhere, and he won’t tell me where.” Her brows furrowed in pain. “She’s just a baby.”

Miles blinked at her. Several times. “It’s not safe to know.”

She groaned with frustration. “Yeah, so I’ve heard.”

“No, you don’t get it. Peter can’t tell you where she is because he doesn’t know. No one does. That’s the whole point.”

Her head snapped towards him, eyes wide. “What?”

He shifted his body around, turning his shoulders towards her. “Only one person knows where your family is, and they’re not talking.”

She gazed at him, perplexed.

“They’re not gonna say anything.” He wore a knowing look. She stared at him, her mind spinning. When she opened her mouth to speak, Miles raised his hand, silencing her. “That’s enough heavy stuff for one night. Let’s get back to the game.”

With that, he turned towards the OLED panel in the room and grabbed one of the two Nintendo controllers next to them. Waking up the Switch, he navigated to a new screen, pulling up a character selection.

“I got Bowser this time. You wanna be Yoshi again?”

Honey stared at him, deeply confused. Miles turned to her, picking up the controller and putting it in her hands when she didn’t reply. “C’mon, we gotta get started. My neighbor’s gonna play us online.” He poked her in the arm to get her attention, then nudged his head towards the Mario Kart selection screen.

Confused, she glanced over at the characters. There was a Third Player.

“Cat Peach,” Honey said, staring at the Third Player’s character selection. “Bella loves Princess Peach.” When she looked back at Miles, he was a brick wall. Complete silence. Face neutral. Staring straight ahead at the TV screen, waiting for Honey to pick.

She curled her brow upwards, glancing at Miles, then back to the Third Player. Tears welled in her eyes as she observed the avatar on the screen. Her niece’s avatar. Her niece. Miles’ neighbor. Miles—mostly likely with his father’s help—had hid Bella and the rest of her family.

Tears flowed down her cheeks as she turned back to Miles, her jaw agape. He avoided looking straight at her, taking a sip of his third Mountain Dew. “C’mon now. Some of us have an early bedtime.”

One week after she last saw Peter, another surprise guest appeared. Because Felicia had been by every day, that’s who she expected to find at the door. Honey gasped with delight when she saw who it really was.

With twinkling eyes and hands deep in the pockets of his hoodie, Eddie smiled back. “If it isn’t Nancy Reagan.”

They spent the next half-hour catching up. Honey profusely apologized—unnecessarily—to him for being the cause of another fallout. He rejected her apology—repeatedly— but accepted her offering of two-thirds of a strawberry cheesecake.

Honey eventually got around to addressing the splinter under her skin.

“So. Did Peter send you here to spy on me?” she asked, unsure if she wanted the answer.

“Nope.” He shook his head. She couldn’t help the strange way her heart sank at his answer. Eddie peered at her suspiciously. “But it would be nice to know what you want me to tell ‘em when he inevitably asks about you.”

She pressed her lips together, eyes suddenly interested in the granite of the countertop. She wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say. She wasn’t even sure of what she wanted.

After an hour passed, Eddie explained that he was sent to the penthouse for a reason. To deliver a package.

Her eyes bulged, heart tripping, as he handed her a smartphone. The only thing that kept her from fainting was that the device was much smaller than the one she was hiding in her pocket. A model at least ten years old. It had a simple case with one of those artist-drawing stickers. A red spider. She looked up at him, eyes full of confusion.

“For emergencies,” Eddie said, shoving his hands back in his pockets. “You’re a big girl. I’m sure you’ll be fine. But just in case.”

Three weeks after she last saw Peter, she reached for the spider phone for the first time.

It was shortly after lunchtime at a chic, New American restaurant off of West 51st, adorned with a crystal chandelier, neon lights, and lush botanicals. Honey and Felicia were seated at the bar finishing up lunch (and a bottle of champagne) when the silver-haired woman excused herself to the restroom.

Being left alone was no longer strange. In the past three weeks, Honey had experienced more freedom than she had in the last four months of living with Peter Parker. She was permitted to travel wherever she pleased. Just as long as she had the emergency phone. And guards to scope the area ahead of time and transport her. And Felicia or Miles as an escort. It didn’t feel like she was being escorted. After three weeks of lonely days in the penthouse, she longed for companionship.

After the incident at the arcade, she tried to stay vigilant when left alone. But when she looked up to see Felicia return to the bar, a strange man sat on her stool instead.

She’d never seen him before. He was at least sixty, but the expression lined in deep trenches on his long face made him appear centuries older. The scent of stale cigarettes enveloped him. With graying, auburn-sand hair and intense eyes that seemed to radiate disappointment, he fixed a hard gaze on her.

“I know who you are,” he quietly declared in a bitter tone.

Every muscle in her body froze, and she fought the urge to scream for help. Instead, she kept one hand on the bar near her nearly-empty plate, resting over her steak knife.

He glanced down at her hands, unimpressed, and he gave her a sardonic smirk. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help.”

She remained nothing more than a statue, lips pressed tightly together.

“More importantly, I know who you’ve been with.”

She swallowed hard. Eyes wide, she flicked them cautiously toward the corridor Felicia had disappeared through as violent images filled her mind. The food began to creep up her esophagus.

She shook her head. “I-I don’t know what you—”

“Don’t lie,” he sneered, light as a feather, while his eyes screamed in a fury. “I know you’re Peter Parker’s new girl.”

Her heart thrummed in her throat. She opened her mouth.

“If you make a scene, I’ll throw Miss Hardy into a jail cell so deep under this city she’ll be in New Amsterdam,” he glowered. Honey snapped her mouth shut while piercing sirens rang out in her head. “Did I mention I’m a cop?” he added with a cruel casualness.

She felt dizzy, her heart sinking in her chest. Her brain ping-ponged between John Walker, and Wilson Fisk, and whoever planted the car bomb, and the corrupt officers that cut down Peter’s aunt and uncle in a spray of bullets.

A long list of enemies. And by the look in this man’s eye, he wanted to be at the very top.

“My name is George Stacy,” he muttered, eyes dark. “Peter Parker killed my daughter.”

Something inside her shattered as she connected the distraught rage emanating from the man seated next to her to the angelic face in Peter’s photo box.

“Did he tell you about her? Did he tell you about Gwen?” His voice made a sound like glass breaking as he said her name. Grief and anger swirled in the blue depths of his eyes. A deep crease formed between Honey’s brows.

“Excuse me.” Felicia’s biting tone caught their attention. “You’re in my seat.” They looked over to see the silver-haired woman glaring daggers at the older man, fearless in her stance. Honey had never felt so envious of her courage in her life.

George fixed her with a disgusted sneer. “Well, well. If it isn’t the Black Cat. Parker’s still your favorite place to sharpen your claws, isn’t he?”

Felicia didn’t flinch, crossing her arms. “Aww, Georgie. Didn’t know we were already at pet names. Get out of my chair.”

Anxiously, Honey glanced back and forth between the two heavyweights. George stared up at her through narrow eyes. “You’re lucky I don’t throw cuffs on you right here,” he said.

Felicia rolled her eyes. “Kinky. Got probable cause?”

“You’re a thief who gets on her knees for a murderer.” He side-eyed Honey. “You both are.”

“I don’t really like your accusations, Georgie,” Felicia snarked. “‘Specially the criminal kind. Got proof?”

George’s jaw clenched. His eyes were black with rage.

“Didn’t think so,” Felicia answered, then turned to Honey. “How ‘bout we get outta here? I’m sure Georgie here can settle our tab.”

The man suddenly came to a stand, his full height bringing him to eye level with her. “You disrespectful little smartass.” He leaned in close, pouring venom into her ear. “You’re trash. Standing behind a man who pushed his wife off the Brooklyn Bridge. She was going to leave him! And he killed her for it.”

Wild-eyed, George turned to face Honey. “Y’know what she looked like when they pulled her body from the river?” His eyes welled with tears as he ground his teeth together. “Y’know what she looked like when I had to identify her? I couldn’t do it! The fall crushed every bone in her face!”

“That’s enough,” Felicia declared with a cold tone. “We’re leaving.”

She took Honey by the shoulder, guiding her from the bar. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks once they stepped out into the frosty air.

“You’re protecting a monster!” George shouted after them, his voice, heart, and soul obliterated.

Honey was quiet in the back of the car as they sped home.

“Was he telling the truth?” Honey asked with a mouse-like whimper, unsure if she wanted the answer. Unsure if she wanted Felicia to lie.

The woman’s gaze darted over, appearing shocked even behind the giant, black lenses of her Givenchy sunglasses. “Are you kiddin’ me?” Felicia snapped with indignation. “Of course not!” The woman sounded offended at the accusation.

Honey stared at her in silence, trying to decide which version of the truth she wanted to believe.

Twenty-three days after Peter, Honey sat across from Miles at a bistro table in front of a streetside cafe. To her right sat Bella—wearing a princess dress. Delightful as she sketched out a cat on a piece of paper. Black crayon was smeared everywhere. Miles leaned over, giving her pointers on her cat drawing, showing her his sketch of a spider.

Honey wanted to say something. She really did. But couldn’t find the words.

She couldn’t speak.

Her eyes filled with terror as she recognized the tall figure stalking towards the table, wielding a shotgun in his hands.

She couldn’t scream.

John walked up to the table, pointed the shotgun at Miles’ chest, and fired.

When she awoke, she was screaming. Her chest landed hard against a warm, firm body. Her mouth was open and dry, and her eyes were clouded with nightfall, and her throat was raw, her skin sweaty, and her face was wet with tears.

“It’s okay! You’re okay! You’re okay. It was a dream. I gotcha.”

She shuddered with relief, her heart still racing with terror. She gasped in short breaths, grounded only by the warmth on her chest, the sturdy oak branches around her body, and the soothing hum of Peter Parker’s voice.

“Shh, s’okay,” he cooed at her.

Honey buried her face in Peter’s neck, full-body sobs overtaking her. She squeezed his shoulders tight, digging her fingers into the fibers of his shirt. The scent of cinnamon and cedar filled her nostrils. Like some magic spell had been cast, she felt her muscles melt, cradled in the warmth of his hold.

“It’s okay,” Peter whispered, rocking her gently. “You’re safe. You’re okay.”

Another cry ripped through her chest at the idea. “M’not,” she stuttered over hiccups. “I’m not okay. Nothing is okay...”

She felt his fingers glide down her spine, smoothing down the tank top on her back. He softly replied, his breath tickling her ear, “It was just a bad dream—”

She was incoherent, crumpling in a pile of broken ‘no’s’ and ‘I can’ts’ and ‘I’m sorrys’ and ‘it's my faults.’ He chased away the shadows, his fingertips alternating between rubbing her back and running through her hair.

“‘S’not your fault, Honey,” Peter murmured, resolve in his voice. “None of this is your fault...”

Trembling with tears, she pulled away slowly. Hesitantly, Peter released his grip, handling her like an origami flower left out in the rain.

The scruff of his beard had grown back in, and he wore a black pullover sweater that made him appear soft and gentle in a way she was unused to. She looked up at the golden-flecked, whiskey hue of his concerned gaze. Her own eyes were bloodshot and bleary. Her heart swelled and ached at the sight of him. Distressed, his eyes flitted over her face.

The spell wore off. As soon as Honey’s body heat left Peter’s hold, they both mourned the loss. He dropped his gaze to the comforter, his cheeks flushed disconcertedly.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, pulling his fingers away from her. “M’sorry, I-I wasn’t tryin’ to—I wasn’t watching you or anything.”

His eyes darted around, hands fretting. “Of course not,” he muttered under his breath. “Who says that? Th-That’s stupid.”

He looked back at her earnestly, “I-I didn’t want—didn’t mean to intrude, I didn’t... I-I know ‘m’not supposed to be here. I just... I came by for some stuff, and... And I-I heard you scream, and I... I thought— Uh... I, um... I’ll-I’ll leave you alone now.”

Tears spilled in rivers down her cheeks. “Why are you protecting me, Peter?” she whimpered. “Can’t you see I’m not worth saving?”

He paused, eyes going wide.

“You can’t love me,” she wept. “You don’t know who I am. You don’t know what I’ve done.” She shook her head, racked with grief. “I keep trying to protect everyone, but-but I can’t—I... I’m killing them. I’m gonna get them killed.”

“What are you talking about?” Peter whispered. He squeezed his hands together, fighting the urge to cradle her face in them.

“‘M’not a good person, Peter. And I keep waiting for you to throw me away.”

He was dumbstruck into silence, shaking his head. Brows pinched together in horror.

“Don’t say anything,” she sniffed. “Please... don’t say anything. Just... just please. I need you to hold me.” He gazed at her blankly, as she closed the gap between them, pulling him into a kiss.

Both of her arms circled his shoulders. She nudged her chest up against his. She pried open his mouth with her lips, slipping her tongue through. His breath hitched at the taste of her, his hands outstretched safely away from her body.

She pulled her lips away with a heated smack, “Please, Peter. Please just touch me.” When she leaned in to kiss him, she felt the expanse of his broad hands on her lower back. He scooped her into his embrace, letting himself sink beneath the depths of her kiss.

He could feel her heart beating up against his own, both of them like rabbits darting through prairie brush. She paused only briefly for air, resting her forehead against his before dragging her wet touch across his tongue.

He could feel her everywhere. In every artery. In every cell. Drifting within his lungs. Swimming through his brain until he was dizzy. Whenever he felt himself floating, faint with desire, she snatched him tighter. Crushing their bodies against one another.

She emerged from the shell of her bedding, crawling into his lap. Threw her leg over him, pressing her heat against his belly. The sensation drew a gasp from his lips, and he seized her hips gently. He held them steady in place.

“Stop,” he breathed. He felt her go still. He squeezed his eyes closed, pulling his lips away. “We can’t.”

His words twisted a knife in her belly, her soul bleeding out.

“I can’t,” he muttered apologetically.

She found his eyes, hers full of dismay. A punishment for her cruelty. She was afraid to ask. “Why not?”

His eyes glistened in the city lights outside of her window. He stared at her, the corners of his mouth downturned. “Because if you push me away, it’ll break me, Honey.” He swallowed heavily. “And I don’t have anything left to break.”

She squeezed her eyes closed, tears breaking through her lids. She lowered her head, grieving the innocence of when they’d first met. She’d give anything to go back to that moment.

“Stay with me,” she whispered urgently. She met his eyes again. “Just stay here,” she said, softly begging. “Please. Just hold me.”

She nudged the tip of her nose against his. He gazed up at her with somber adoration and mourning, eyes achingly tender.

“Just for tonight,” she pleaded. She wore a desperate expression, like she would perish if he let her go.

It hurt to look at her. It hurt to touch her, almost as much as it hurt not to touch her. Pain was a mutual friend.

Tears shimmering at his eyelids, he nodded softly.

Wordlessly, she gripped him tighter. As if she could physically hold on to the tiny bit of relief. She wanted to hold on for as long as she could.

They hung on to each other, curled up together beneath the darkness. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, her hand resting above his heart. Fingers outstretched, she studied the slow rise and fall of his chest. He buried his fingers in her hair, rubbing tiny circles on the nape of her neck. The sound of their hearts beating in sync soothed him, like rain pattering on a rooftop.

Just for tonight. They slept in peace.

Her limbs felt heavy, but she was warm. She snuggled against a firm body toasting her like a furnace, as tendrils of daylight pulled her from slumber. Her eyes blinked open. Curiously, she lifted her head.

Peter dozed softly with her body nestled against his side. Her eyes softened as she gazed at the way the light danced across his freckles. She studied his image, memorizing each aspect of the moment. His hair was puffy and wild. She observed flecks of amber and gray in his chestnut beard. His lips were chapped with a plump cherry pout. And while she was mapping the lines of his face, she realized that this was the first morning she’d ever woken up next to him.

Like he could hear her thinking, his hand twitched, tightening his grip on her lower back as he stirred awake. Coffee eyes wandered quickly and found hers, lighting up with warmth. A sleepy, half-smile stretched across his features.

“You’re here,” she said dreamily, returning the smile.

“I am.” His voice was thickened by deep sleep. He watched her with fondness for several moments, before adding worriedly, “Did you not want me to be?”

Her smile dimmed for just a moment. She shook her head. “It’s nice.”

It was the truth. They gazed at each other, silent and starry-eyed and lost in a pleasant peace. He brought his hand up slowly to brush a piece of hair from her face. Her skin hummed at the brush of his fingertips. A shadow darkened her eyes. “I saw George Stacy yesterday.”

She felt his muscles tighten faintly, and his eyes fluttered shut. When he opened them, he drew a measured breath. Concern dimmed his gaze. “What’d he say?”

She pursed her lips. “He told me that you pushed Gwen off a bridge.”

A sharp pain flickered on his face like the sting of a wasp. A cold shadow fell across him, like the dark side of the Moon. “You believed him.” It wasn’t much of a question.

“I don’t want to hear it from him,” she said gently. “I want to hear it from you.”

His vision drifted. Melancholy and grief swallowed him, pulling him under a dark tide of painful memories. She felt his hands release her as he shifted to a sitting position. Her heart ached at the loss of his hold, and she hopelessly tried to seek comfort by wrapping her arms around herself.

“Gwen and I—we met in high school.” The hoarse creak of his voice startled her. He sat with slumped shoulders, leaning over a bent knee. “She was the only one that knew me, before my aunt and uncle died. She stuck with me after. Even when she saw what I was becoming.”

Bitterness accentuated his tone. Delicately, Honey sat up in her sheets, leaning enough to be able to see his gloomy profile. “She tried to save me,” he said. “But what happened, happened. I told her what I had to do. And that I am what I am. She couldn’t stop me, and I told her not to try.”

He swallowed hard. “I pushed her away, tried to break it off. But that just pissed her off more. Made her double-down. She was so damn stubborn. So she tried to help me.”

A pang contorted his features for a moment. She saw a faint tremor in his lower lip. He bit down on the flesh to still its movements.

“Her dad, though,” he continued. “He was a cop. He already hated me, even before I was a criminal. It was only a matter of time before he found out who I really was.” He sniffed, lifting his chin with a rueful look. “I knew he’d protect her, but he could only do so much. Eventually he was going to find us out, and if he wanted to protect her, he was going to have to pit her against me.”

The last part of his sentence cut through him like a razor. He paused for a moment, wetting his lips. Shoving his voice out of his pained chest. “So when she turned 18, she asked me to marry her.”

The sharp lines in her forehead faded at the revelation.

“She said if we were married,” he said, haunted by grief, “she couldn’t be forced to testify against me.” He gulped again, and by the look on his face he was swallowing rusty nails. “I didn’t care that it was part of a plan. It was the happiest I’d ever been since... even since before, I think.”

He went quiet for a while, before adding grimly, “I tore her family apart. He never forgave me for that.” A dark bitterness contorted his features, the familiar echo of self-loathing returning to his voice. “And I looked that man in the eye and swore that I would protect his daughter. But I failed.”

His eyes fell closed, and for a moment she thought his memories were tattooed on the insides of his lids.

“She fell,” he ground out, tears welling up. The dam was in danger of breaking. “I tried to catch her in time.” The breath sucked out of his lungs. “It was a matter of inches. Milliseconds. But it wasn’t enough.”

He slowly turned to face her, eyes shimmering with tears. “You asked me who was responsible for her death. I didn’t push her. But I’m the reason she was up there to begin with.” A pained flicker of a smile ghosted across his lips—a cruel impersonation of acceptance, of resignation of his guilt. “She died because of me,” he declared. “I let the woman I love die. I can’t let that happen twice.”

Eyes misty and red, he let the statement rest, as if dictating words he wanted written on his tombstone.

With a heavy heart, she replied, “But I’m right here, Peter. I’m not dead. Why wouldn’t you tell me the truth? Not just about Gwen, but Bella, too? Why would you make me think you knew where she was?”

Peter looked away, gazing down at his hands, pinching his lips closed. A false light returned to his tone. “My uncle used to say that one of the two keys to success was never telling everything you know.”

He didn’t follow up with anything after that. Her face slumped in disappointment.

“Bella means the world to you,” Peter explained, meeting her eyes again. “And I’d never put her life in the hands of just anyone.” He swallowed painfully. “Not even myself. I can’t be responsible for destroying someone else I love. I won’t.”

“Destroying me—you-you really thought the solution was pushing me away?” She sounded frustrated and betrayed. “That didn’t work with Gwen. Why did you think it would work with me—?

“Because I’m afraid I already have,” Peter affirmed. She fell silent as he gazed at her mournfully. “I know what rage does to people. I know what it looks like. That night, when we were fighting—I saw it in your eyes. Saw it when you looked at me. Hatred is... it’s a flesh-eating parasite. Never satisfied.” He gazed at her, eyes grim. “That’s all me, Honey. I did that to you.”

She sighed as regret seized her lungs. “Peter,” she pleaded, “let’s go back to the mountains.” His brow furrowed with confusion, as she explained more urgently. “Let’s go away. With Miles, and-and Felicia, and Bella, and everyone, and just—just hide?”

He shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“I’m scared, Peter. I’m scared that something awful is going to happen.” She felt the thick serpent crawl up from her belly again. “I’m-I—I don’t feel safe here anymore. Between the bomb, and... then George Stacy walked right up to me in broad daylight. What if that had been someone else?” His gazed at her worriedly, and she implored, “I’m... I’m afraid someone’s watching us. Watching me.”

She swallowed hard to keep the bile from spilling out of her mouth. Her skin felt clammy. Reptilian. Lying to Peter now made her physically ill.

“You’re gonna be okay, Honey,” he replied with gentle affirmation. “You and Miles, your family—I’m gonna protect you. You don’t need to worry.”

“Please, stop telling me that,” she declared firmly. “We both know it’s not true.”

He studied her silently with a frown, eyes flitting over her face. “I’m not good with flashing lights and loud noises.”

She blinked at him, brows pinched.

He met her eyes, as if continuing a confession, “Too much stimulation has always been an issue with me. Sorf of a-a weakness, I guess.”

“What does that—?”

“The cops could tear this place apart, but they wouldn’t find anything. It’s not here. It’s in a place underground. We call it The Bunker. It’s in an abandoned subway station that nobody knows about. Roosevelt. That’s our fallback position, a strategic planning base. Weapons, cash, files on every corrupt bastard in this city. It’s all there.”

Her brain was spinning with confusion.

“Inside a bank in Queens off of Woodhaven,” he added, casual and matter-of-fact in a way that made her feel unsettled. “There’s a safe registered under the name Ezekiel Sims. Inside, there’s $63 million in cash. Unmarked bills. Untraceable, clean money. It’s my cut. Nearly fifteen years’ pension for my sins. But it’s not for me. It’s for Miles and his family. The combination to the safe is his birthdate.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she blurted, overwhelmed.

Peter stared at her, eyes soft. “Because I’m done hiding. I’m through with hiding who I am. Especially from you.” Her brows furrowed as he explained, “If you wanted to turn me in, to drain me dry, take Bella and run—you have everything you need to know. As long as you and Miles are safe. Felicia. Johnny. Everyone left alive that matters to me—all I care about is that they’re safe.”

He swallowed hard, gazing at her solemnly. “Nobody can hurt me, Honey. No one but you. If that’s what you want.”

She felt the sting of tears brimming her eyes, her heart sinking in her chest. In under a minute, he’d given her the key to her freedom, to everything she could have ever wanted. It was also the key to his destruction. The nail in his coffin. Diametrically opposed to what she could ever want.

Why her?

That’s the only thing she could think about. It was a record running on repeat, slowly driving her insane. Why trust her? Why choose her? Why risk his life and legacy for her?

Not just material things—but his family was on the line. Secrets had already been divulged. Blood had already been spilled. Why would he love her when the weight of her betrayal made her want to die?

She cast her eyes downward, unable to meet his gaze. In her mind, she wanted to scream at him to run away. She wanted to scream at him for being so blind. For foolishly choosing her, when he could have anything else. Or anyone.

“Were you with someone?” she asked, as timid and quiet as a mouse.

His eyebrows pinched together. “With someone?”

“Someone else,” she replied, a little clearer. Again, she was conflicted at whether or not she wanted the answer. “Another woman. Or man.” He was silent as she stared down at the black polish decorating her nails. “You were gone for days,” she said, idly. “I mean, n-not that I expected you to just... y’know.” She took a deep breath. “It’s okay, if you did.”

When she looked up at him, Peter was staring back at her like she had grown an extra head. “Are you asking me if I’ve had sex with anyone since I left?”

Her eyes went wide, embarrassed by the bluntness of his question. “I mean, I’m not—” She stuttered, struggling. “No, I mean, I am. I just—”

She cleared her throat. It was like wet cement surrounded her vocal cords. “I get it,” she stated, her eyes darting from his face, to his chest, to the blanket, to the wall, and back around again. “You’ve got—your-your face is, it’s nice.” She was flailing. “And your rest of you, is, um, is—”

A heat wave traveled up her neck, making her feel faint. Her breaths were coming out short. “It’s okay,” she explained apologetically. “If you did. It makes sense. I just… you can tell me.” She met his eyes, trying to steal herself. “Please. If... if you don’t mind.”

Peter stared at her for a long time. He was quiet. Contemplative. He could have grown moss. Just when she was about to pass out from the anticipation, he shifted in his seat. His umber eyes fixed on her. “Honey. Since I met you, I haven’t looked at anyone else.”

She pressed her lips together, chewing on the inside flesh. His words were like a glowing, hot blade, slicing her open. Tears rimmed her saddened gaze. Her voice came out as a whimper.

“You don’t have to lie.”

His brows furrowed. A dreary expression leveled him. He turned his shoulders towards her.

“There’s not anybody else,” he softly declared. It felt like a whisper that only she could hear. “There’s not another woman. Or a man.”

His hand came up, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Not another sunrise or sunset, no fancy car, no drug trip...”

The warmth of his lungs ghosted over her face like a warm mist. “No cute puppy, no breathtaking waterfall, no flower, or beach or mountain—not a single moment of joy on this Earth—that compares to how you make me feel.”

Her muscles seized, eyes wide. Tears brimmed that she was unaware she could even feel. Added to that, was the rough touch of his thumb brushing at the edge of her mouth. He stared down at her lips like he could read lines of poetry written on them.

“I was in the dark,” he murmured. “After Gwen, I was asleep. Thought I was already dead. Until I saw you. Thought it was a crush. But then... I met you.” His warm gaze heated into a small smile, thawing out his features. “I watched you sing and dance and make food, and play games with Miles, and talk about animal facts, and tell stories to Rex, and apologize to the house plants when they didn’t get watered.”

He chuckled softly, like a candle flickering on a winter night. “I listened to you talk about everything like it was—like it was a gift. Like no matter how dark it was, there was gonna be a sunrise. Like you could already see it.”

She met his gaze as her eyes welled up. No one had ever looked at her like that.

“Bringing down Fisk was always endgame for me,” he murmured. “Didn’t ever see past it. Figured I didn’t need to.” Timidly, he leaned closer, as if sharing his biggest secret. “When you touch me, it’s like I can feel the sunrise. Like I can reach out and touch the future.”

A tear trailed down her face before he wiped it away with the pad of his thumb. Her lip wobbled and she felt as if he was holding her upright. Like her life had been a perilous journey and she’d finally found rest.

“You once told me that you had all the power,” he said with a coy smirk. Embarrassment kissed her features, before he soothed it away with his hands. “That’s not the half of it,” he said. “You’re my tomorrow. You have the rest of my life in your hands.”

They gazed at each other, eyes shimmering, hearts swelling with emotions they couldn’t begin to describe.

“How could I look at anyone else?” Peter said with a profound wonder. “You’re the first and last thing I wanna see every day. There is no tomorrow for me if you’re not in it.”

His hands were holding onto the sides of her face, but inside, she was buckling. Her walls crumbled. She searched his eyes through her own blurry tears. Desperately looking for a catch. Seeking a reason not to believe him.

But she was right about another thing—she knew what it sounded like when he lied to her. And in every cell of her body, she knew that this was not it.

“Peter,” she breathed, with a wary tremor in her heart. It was like she was standing on shaky legs at the edge of the Earth, ready to dive into its core. “I think—” Her voice shook timidly, until she willed it to be steady. “I… I think... I’m in love with you.”

His eyes glowed, momentarily weakened by a fleeting helplessness. He closed them for a moment, as if to steady himself. “No,” he softly replied. Opened his eyes to stare at her like she was the answer to everything in the universe. “You’re not.” A gentle smile played upon his lips. “Not yet.”

Her insides melted for him. She wanted to fall into him and be consumed by the blaze.

“It’s okay, though,” he whispered with a subtle, teasing grin. “I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it happen. To be worthy of it.”

The cheekiness of his smile triggered an even wider one from her. She breathed out a small laugh, tears falling. He gazed down with eyes that spoke louder than his words. It left no doubt in her mind.

Peter Parker loved her.

It hurt to look at.

Her smile dimmed. “Peter.” She swallowed hard, mustering the strength to crawl across a mile of flaming coals. “I... I have to tell you something.” His light never flickered. He gazed at her, half-entranced, half-heartedly listening. “I’m... I’m not the person you—”

A phone buzzed.

Her heart seized in her chest. A full stop. It felt like the touch of death.

Peter flinched nervously, snapped out of the spell. He dropped his hands to his pockets, digging the buzzing device from his slacks.

She sealed her eyes closed, withholding a silent scream.

Peter gazed down at the screen with a frustrated sigh, looking up at her apologetically, and put the device to his ear. “What is it,” he answered, quietly seething. As he listened to the muddled voice on the other end, Honey was dizzy with conflicting emotions. She wanted to curl up and die.

“What do you mean he’s here? We’re supposed to meet in Brooklyn.”

That was the last straw. She needed to say it. She needed to come clean. She needed to tell Peter the truth about everything. To bare her soul and confess her sins the way he had. The only problem was that her heart was stuttering in her chest, shaking her stomach so much that she was going to vomit on her bedspread.

“Fuck,” she idly heard him mumble. “Alright. Let ‘em in. Make ‘em wait. I’ll be down in a minute.”

She was drowning in sorrow as he ended the call. Oblivious to her distress, he shoved his phone back in the pocket of his jeans. He looked back at her, disappointment twisting his face. He read the look on her face as frustration at the interruption.

“I’m... I’m sorry,” he winced. “I...” His eyes darted to her door. “I... I have to—”

He didn’t need to say it. Duty called. Her opportunity to resolve herself was slipping away. Maybe it never even existed.

He cupped her face with his hands, gazing at her tenderly. “You get cleaned up, okay? And I’m yours the rest of the day. We’ll go anywhere you want. Just gotta take care of this one thing. It’ll take me less than an hour.”

Less than an hour.

She had less than an hour until her world crumbled. Until she revealed to the one person that ever really loved her that he was wrong about her. She was never worthy of his love.

“I promise,” he repeated with soothing tones and gentle touches. He leaned in slowly, as if requesting permission, and pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead.

She responded with something that sounded vaguely like words. He removed his hands. His touch. His warmth. Finally, he removed himself from her presence.

Dread filled her, along with a cold fear that she’d never see it again.

She followed instructions with an empty brain. A hollow heart.

When she emerged from her room, she was clean. Her stomach was empty of its contents. The color had faded from her skin. She was an apparition, walking aimlessly among the living in the waking world.

Rex. She went down the stairs to check on Rex. Maybe he needed his terrarium cleaned. Maybe she could clean it. Maybe she could scrub the whole penthouse with a toothbrush while she waited for the sensation to come back to her fingers and toes.

Her feet guided her closer to Rex’s tank, and she stopped suddenly. Aware that someone was blocking her path. A tall, beefy figure leaned down over the terrarium.

They turned to face her.

Her eyes went wide.

Her heart jumped.

Her breath seized.

John Walker fixed her with a pleasant smile—cheeks rosy, shark-blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

“So, this is what you’ve been hiding away, eh?” he grinned snarkily.

The world was spinning. The earth was shaking. She thought the whole building would come down on top of her.

“I don’t think we’ve had the chance to meet,” John said.

Her brows furrowed. She was frozen stiff, barely registering Peter as he walked up into her view. Stood shoulder-to-shoulder with John.

“No, I, uh... I was saving it for a special occasion,” Peter replied. He glanced over at John with a fond expression, then faced her.

A rat caught in a trap.

A snake stretched between the fangs of two wolves.

Torn apart.

“This is, uh, an associate of mine,” Peter told her. “A friend, really. I'd like you to meet Steve Rogers.”

Continue to Part 18

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a/n Thank you everyone for your patience and support! Things are going to heat up and move very fast. I appreciate your positive feedback.

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lieutenantwilliamrusso · 2 years

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Hi. I saw your post for prompts. How about CEO Boss Billy having a obsessive dark crush on his secretary and driving all competition away by being scary🙈😈

Don't mind if I dooooo and thank you for requesting and waiting a 10000 years for this. <3

tagging miss wonderful amazing sweet @idaoftheburningmind

Warnings: Minors DNI 18+ only, sex, swearing, oral sex, stalking, canon typical violence

Billy Russo x Fem! Reader

Mine

It's fucking sick. How beautiful you are, how kind and sweet. How much Billy wants to bend you across his desk and then yours and show you how well he can take care of you. But he can't, you're his good little secretary and he's your boss. Sure, he could call you in, offer you a generous raise if only you'd get on your knees but Billy wants more. He wants to own you, body and soul and if he did that you'd never be his.

So he sulks, and steals your hair clips because they hold the scent of your hair. And your small bottle of perfume you keep at your desk. And one of those pink pens you insist on using above all others. And then one day, Billy's mounting obsession with you has the best and worst day yet.

You have a date. With a douchebag in accounting.

You come to work with a bigger bag and Billy realizes you're going to change for your date before leaving work. Billy's never seen you in street clothes before, and the thought stirs something primal and sick inside him.

You're his. You just don't know it yet.

When the work day ends, you disappear into the bathroom, taking your bag with you. As you lift it up to haul it over your shoulder, the mot amazing thing happens. A small scrap of lace falls onto the floor, left behind as you leave. The primal feeling stir in Billy as he moves to investigate, head on a swivel for you or any remaining employees. When he reaches the floor his suspicions are conformed. He lifts the lace thong from the floor and rubs the material over his fingertips. Buttery soft, just like your skin probably is. Billy pockets the panties and turns quickly to reenter his office.

He's going to follow you on your date, that's for certain.

Billy chooses not to watch you leave, uncertain how he'll act if you're wearing something tight or short. He waits until you're in the garage and then he follows, choosing a nondescript black car to tail you with.

You end up somewhere fancy, a new Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side. This dumbass you're going out with should know better. Indian food is your favorite and you hate driving on the Upper East Side. Billy almost smiles, realizing this guy might not stand a chance. Almost. You're still not with him and the thought makes Billy's insides churn, venom icing his veins.

When you park, Billy grabs a spot a few spaces down and peers through the tinted window as you step out of your car. This idiot didn't pick you up? When you're Billy's, you'll never have to take yourself anywhere again. Strike two.

When he sees you his breath catches, fingers tightening on the steering wheel until his knuckles are pale. You're in a black wrap dress, the short hemline showing off your gorgeous legs, and the black Louboutin heels Billy knows you bought with your Christmas bonus are helping even more. Your hair is out and your lipstick is dark red. That image inspires the thought of what that lipstick will look like smeared across your face and Billy's dick, that pretty hair all ruffled.

Billy groans, head thumping back against the headrest.

When your date arrives, dressed exactly like the idiot finance bro Billy imaged, he seethes. The Idiot goes for a hug right away like a desperate freak and leads you into the restaurant with his hand on your lower back. Billy steels himself to fuck up the Idiot's night.

He slips the ski mask over his face and gets out.

When the Idiot, who's ugly in Billy's opinion, gets up to use the bathroom, it's Billy's time to shine. Billy slips into the bathroom after him, flicking the lock behind him. When the Idiot goes to wash his hands, Billy strikes. He's fucked up enough to leave a mark, and the message is clear.

"Get the fuck out of here." Billy growls.

As he's washing the guy's blood off, an idea takes root in Billy's mind. He's dressed in his work clothes still, having only thrown a black sweatshirt over his white button up.

Billy throws his sweatshirt in the trash along with the ski mask and fixes his hair. This night can be saved.

When he crosses the floor he sees you, playing on your phone while you sip on your glass of red wine. You stop his heart with how effortlessly pretty you look, featured illuminated by the soft candle light on the table. He approaches, swallowing hard.

"Miss Y/L/N." Billy greets, smiling softly.

Your head pops up and you greet him with a dazzling smile.

"Mr. Russo!"

"Billy, please." Billy cringes internally at how formal this all sounds.

"Sorry, I always forget." You blush.

"No worries, Y/N. But you're off the clock, no penalty." He jokes.

You giggle lightly, and the weight in his chest lifts a little.

"You here alone?" He questions lightly.

"Oh! No, I'm here with Richard, from accounting. He's just in the bathroom."

"I just saw him leave on my way in." Billy states gently.

Your eyes widen, your lips pulling downward just a little and Billy's chest tightens. He has to fix this, now.

"That dickhead ghost you?" He asks, struggling to hide his distaste.

"I-uh I guess so." You mumble, too surprised to notice Billy's profanity.

"How about this?" He begins, and you meet his eyes slowly. "You're all dressed up and already here. Have dinner with me." Billy proposes.

"Oh, no, Billy I couldn't, you're just here trying to enjoy your evening you don't have to worry about me." You try to smile but it's weak.

"Y/N, it's no trouble. I wouldn't have hired you if I thought you were bad company."

You smile wider at that, nodding your acceptance.

"Okay, okay. Thank you."

"My pleasure." Billy grins, sitting across from you.

Billy spends the next two hours in heaven, slowly cracking your shell to pull you out of it. You laugh at his jokes and try little bites of his food and he can't help but imagine doing this with you all the time. When the meal is over, the last crumbs of a chocolate lava cake between you, Billy prepares to pay, not even thinking twice.

"Oh! No, Billy you don't have to!" You protest, eyes wide.

"Sweetheart, I get paid enough to foot a few dinner bills here and there. It's nothing." He doesn't realize the word flies from his lips until you blush, eyes darting around his face.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Oh, he has so much spoiling to do. When he's done with you, you won't think twice about him taking care of everything. It makes him kind of sick to think that you've gone this long with no one to care for you, but he reminds himself that he's here now, and you're right beneath his fingers, ready for him to grab.

He walks you to your car and wishes you goodnight before sliding into his own seat, ready to follow you home.

You apartment is on the second floor of an old brownstone, small but cozy and Billy begins to imagine you sprawled out on the giant leather couches in his own penthouse. God, the way you crawl inside his brain without even knowing it. He spends hours figuring out how he'll slot you into every aspect of his life.

Your curtains are sheer, something Billy is grateful for as you flick on a light and begin to undress. When you pull your dress over your head, Billy freezes, waiting. You begin to unclasp your bra, and Billy is scrambling to open his pants, palming his dick through his boxers. Your breasts are outlined in the soft golden light of your room, nipples clear in the shape. Billy groans, unable to tear his eyes away as you slide on an oversized shirt and disappear for a few minutes.

When you come back you turn off the light and you're gone, off to bed like he should be. He wonders if you'll think of him tonight, if you'll touch yourself like he is. As he sits panting in his car another idea begins to form, something impulsive and crazy, just like you make him feel.

Your apartment is dark, only illuminated by the moonlight seeping through the small living room window. It smells like you in here, sweet and flowery and Billy can't help but stop for a few moments to breath you in, content to just be in your space. But there's something he needs. He's not sure what it is yet, but he wants something small, miss-able, something he can use to feel closer to you when you're not around.

He pokes around your living room and kitchen, unable to find what he needs so hesitantly he approaches your bedroom door. The old wood creaks just a little as he pushes it open, and he pauses to wait for movement. When he only hears the soft sound of your breath he enters, using the dim moonlight through your curtains to look at your belongings. You hairbrush it too noticeable, and he already has some of your perfume. There are a few necklaces, a ring, but nothing that screams, you. As he moves around some more jewelry he spots it, a thin gold bracelet with your initial on it. Perfect.

He lifts it from under the pile, figuring you haven't worn it in a while and examines it closer to the light of your window. When he's satisfied with his choice he tucks it into his pocket and turns to leave, resisting the urge to move closer to your sleeping form.

-------------------

The next few days are uneventful, but you're more open with him as you work side by side. You're even calling him Billy now, and he can't help the rush of pride he gets when you address him.

He's out on the floor, finishing up some new plans for a training exercise set up when you walk by.

"Y/N!" He calls, looking you up and down as you walk over.

You're in an cute black pinstripe dress and heels today, and Billy wishes he were calling you over for a quick kiss on the way by.

"What can I do for you, Billy?" You ask, smiling up at him.

He grins back. "Can you go grab the stack of files on my desk? I need a few for this." He requests.

"Sure thing." You call, already on it.

He goes back to work after watching your ass as you leave, quickly reabsorbed by his work until he realizes you've been gone for a while. Thinking you can;t find them, he heads back up to his office.

When Billy opens the door you're still there with a look he's never seen before painted across your features.

"Where did you get this?" You demand, holding up the bracelet.

"I found it on the floor out there, wasn't sure if it was yours." Billy explains coolly.

"Bullshit! I've never worn this to work. And it's custom made, only I have one."

Shit.

"Did- did you break into my apartment? Is that what this is? You don't trust me to work for you?"

Suddenly you're moving, tearing open his drawers before he can stop you and grabbing the handfuls of clips and pens and the tiny bottle of perfume that clatters around with them.

"Oh my god. Billy what is this?"

Billy's at a loss for the first time in a long time, his brain misfiring as he tries to come up with a way to clean this mess.

"Answer me. Right now." You demand and Billy's body takes the most inopportune moment to make his pants a little tighter.

"I'm stalking you." Billy blurts out.

You pause, disarmed by his honesty.

"You- why?"

"I want you."

"Why not just ask me out?" You reply, becoming a little shrill.

"Would you have gone on a date with your boss?" Billy retorts.

You take his words into consideration.

"So you break into my house, steal my shit, and what, jack off outside my window?"

"I only did that once."

"You're sick, Billy."

"I know." He replies softly.

"Come here." You call to him after a ling pause, voice suddenly soft.

He crosses the room, terrified of what your next reaction will be. When he reaches you, you smile at him, reaching for his hand.

"Come with me." You say, leading him from the office.

You take him to your desk, looking around to make sure everyone else really is gone for the day, before you open your top drawer, letting the contents slide forward. Billy's heart stops as he peers into the drawer.

Two of his favorite pens, a few of the mint candies he always keeps on hand, his business card and the tie clip he thought he lost weeks ago peer back at him.

"I've never broken into your place, though. I'm not really sure how I'd accomplish that one." You say, meeting his eyes.

"Tell me you're lying." Billy says quickly, heart racing.

"I'm not." You reply, voice even and sure.

Then he's grabbing your arm and hauling you back to his office. He flick the lock behind him and you're already two steps ahead, moving towards the mahogany desk and sitting on the edge.

When he reaches you he grabs your face in one hand, slotting your lips together roughly as he other hand finally feels the body he's been dreaming about for months. You do the same the him, hands feeling under his suit jacket as he plunders your mouth with his tongue. You open up for him easily, sweeter than he could have imagined. When he squeezes your waist you gasp, pressing closer.

Billy pulls back, moving to grab your hips and push you further back onto the desk. You gasp as he does and he takes the opportunity to mold his lips to yours again, hands gripping you tight. You grip him right back, hands grasping at his hair, his neck, anywhere you can feel the soft akin under your fingers.

You spread your legs for him as he places himself between them and Billy can't help but pause to admire the view. Your chest is heaving, breasts spilling over the top of your dress. The hem of your dress has ridden up, exposing your soft thighs to his gaze. Billy allows his hands to follow the path of this gaze, squeezing and parting your legs even more, until he sees the scrap of lace covering your pussy. The light blue fabric is soaked a darker shade where it lies over your slit, and Billy feels his mouth water at the sight.

He meets your eyes, licking his lips slowly.

"You've been bad, you know that?" He taunts.

Your eyes widen, already flying towards the sweet headspace he wants you in.

"What did I do?" You ask, peering up at him from under your pretty lashes.

"You almost made me think you didn't want me. I think you should make it up to me, sweet girl."

"Oh, yeah, yes!" You agree, gasping out your consent.

Billy grins, leaning back just a little to take off his tie. When he slides it from his collar he looks down at you again, watching you watch him.

"Give me your hands." He demands.

You obey instantly, holding your wrists out together before he can even ask you to, and he knows he's made the right choice.

"That's my girl." He praises, wrapping the silk tie around your wrists.

When he pulls you off the desk you comply, letting him turn you to bend you over it. You whine as he drags your dress over your hips, exposing your wet panties to him again. Billy laughs, spanking the meat of your ass and watching it jiggle as he hooks a finger under your panties, pulling them down. You step out of them and spread your legs wider, your high heels pushing your ass a little higher.

Billy strokes the backs of your thighs, teasing. When you begin to squirm he relents, brushing his fingers softly over your cunt, collecting the wetness on his fingers.

"God, baby. All this for me?" He asks, entranced.

"Just for you, no one else." You promise, fingers flexing in your binds.

"What a fucking angel you are."

With that, Billy begins to rub your clit, watching the way your thighs twitch as he adds pressure. When he can't wait any longer he dives in, licking and sucking at your clit from behind. You can only gasp and moan and take everything he gives you, pussy clenching around his mouth.

He eats you out like he's starving, slurping ant sucking until he sticks a finger in, rubbing at the spongy spot inside of you until your juices seep onto your thighs, wetting Billy's face in their wake. When you're close, he adds another finger, pumping as he licks into you. All it takes is Billy twisting his fingers just right and you're exploding on his tongue, hips stuttering against the table as he licks up what you give. He strokes your hair as you come down, basking in the pleasure he's able to give you.

"You think you made it up to me, angel?" Billy asks lowly, tugging a strand of your hair.

"No, no, sir." You answer.

That makes Billy cock twitch and he's rubbing against your ass before he can think about it.

"Yeah? You gonna give me something else?" Billy taunts, grinding into you.

"Mmhmm." You agree, words slurred with pleasure.

"What are you gonna give me, huh? What's a pretty girl like you got for me?"

"Fuck me!" You moan, clearly tired of waiting.

Billy laughs, a warm sound that makes you clench. He takes that as a sign to pull his cock out, rubbing the head against your sopping folds. You gasp at his size, rolling your hips against him.

"You think you can take it like this?" Billy asks, voice serious.

"Yeah, been practicing." You admit, legs trembling.

"Oh, yeah? You been practicing for me?" Billy asks, something warm and fierce blooming in his chest.

"Yeah. Wanted to take you if you ever let me." You confess further, face turning into the table.

Billy smiles softly down at you, eyes warm with want.

"You think about me when you fucked yourself?" He asks, pushing in as he says it.

"Yes! Ohhhhh." You reply, chest heaving.

"I think about you, too. You're even fucking tighter than I dreamed, baby." Billy grunts, beginning to thrust.

"Want you so bad, Billy." You grit out, pressed into the desk.

"You got me." He promises, hands grabbing at your waist as he fucks into you hard.

He's already close, succumbing to the heady mix of your confessions and how tight you are. From what he can tell you're just as close, sweet little moans and gasps falling from your lips.

"You gonna give me another?" Billy grunts, hips beginning to stutter.

"Close!" You reply, pussy fluttering around him.

Before he can answer you're cumming, forehead dropping to the table as you ride out the pleasure on Billy's dick. He follows you a second later, eyes rolling back in his head as he pumps you full. You come down together, Billy stroking your back and thighs as he comes back to reality.

When it's been a few moments, he pulls out, untying your wrists after he does. You slowly stand with his help, turning to meet his eyes.

"Hey." He greets quietly, looking for any sign of how you're feeling.

"Hi." You reply, flashing him a small smile.

He kisses you, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into him.

"Pack up your stuff." He says against your lips. "You're coming home with me."

"Yes, sir."

#billy russo x reader #billy russo #my fics

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worriedvision · 2 years

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Breach - Alhaitham (Part 2)

Part 2 of this fic! Gender neutral reader. This part is more of a build up than an actual ending, so a third part will be soon. I may or may not be tempted to write Heizou into this but shhh

You worked for Kamisato Ayato, and you felt like you were almost like family to them. You spend quite a lot of time with Ayaka, the sister, and she was very sweet. When she found out about your ex through looking over your shoulder when you were writing a letter to Kaveh, along with some Inazuma photography, she seems to get an interest in finding you someone.

She asks you for your type, to which you hesitate.

"Well, I don't particularly know." You giggle. "My ex was the only man I dated and had an interest in, but I think it may have been down to us just being close before the relationship..." You furrow your brows. "Does that make sense?"

Ayaka nods, thinking to herself before getting an idea.

"How about I get you a date. Thoma is a lovely guy, and he is attractive if I do say so myself." She hides her mouth behind her fan, smirking to herself.

Thoma was attractive, you must admit.

Wait.

"Thoma's single? How?" You whisper when Thoma walks by, accompanying Ayato.

"Some people are...well, picky...he isn't originally from here, you see." She explains, closing her eyes as she finishes the sentence.

"My lord, if you don't mind me asking, why are we giving this... Alhaitham... A chance?" Thoma asks, reading from the letter. "He's already demonstrated late attendance, and _ has been doing a great job!"

"Well, this man has more experience in paper." Ayato blankly explains. "I'm sure he had his hands full."

Thoma knows better than to ask if Ayato thought you were incompetent, nodding to himself before thinking up a way to keep you there.

He didn't want you running back to your ex, not when your ex was part of your driving force to come here.

"_, I must apologise for this news." Thoma states. "My Lord has chosen to take on board another scribe. I am on the lookout for any places needing your-"

"Can they be my scribe then?" Ayaka jumps in. "Please, I think it would be beneficial given the tasks I sometimes do."

Thoma smiles, nodding as he realises that with Ayaka there, Ayato wouldn't be able to refuse the offer.

You feel Ayaka judge you, gasping, and you follow her eyes only to feel your heart sink

He had come.

Ayato sat across from Alhaitham, clearly unimpressed by his blatant reasoning for deciding to take this job after not responding to the letter to at least voice an interest in the work the Kamisato Estate had to offer.

"I am only here to look for my lover."

"And what, pray tell, does this have to do with work?" Ayato stares daggers into Alhaitham.

"I am simply stating my reason for accepting this job." Alhaitham stares back, not caring for the social difference between them both.

"And why shouldn't I just send you on your merry way back to Sumeru? It's clear you intend to go right back once you find them." Ayato observes.

"Because I am the best of the best." Alhaitham states.

"How charming." Ayato blandly sighs. "Very well, I shall humour this."

"_, I've got a crush on that scribe." Ayaka confesses, trying to hide her blush with her fan as she looks over at the man following Ayato as his boss seems to be giving him a lot of work at one time. "Oh goodness, I shouldn't be staring like this - it isn't very ladylike of me." She realises out loud.

"Don't worry!" You reassure her. "I'm sure you could fish for some information from Lord Ayato." You continue.

You somehow managed to hide the fact this man was your ex. You didn't dislike Ayaka, and you knew she wasn't usually all that interested in the suitors available in Inazuma.

"Oh, I have a date set up for you." She excitedly exclaims. "This evening, I have set up an evening plan for Thoma and yourself. I'm sure you will both enjoy it." She smiles, you nodding before you return to writing out your next letter for Kaveh, detailing the fact Alhaitham took your position without even giving you a heads up.

In the letter, you disclose the fact you're going on a date with a man called Thoma, and you were very much looking forward to seeing how it would play out. At the end of the letter, you clarify with Kaveh that you knew Alhaitham was one to be nosy with the mail if he needed some information, so you didn't particularly blame Kaveh for what happened.

You seal the letter before taking a walk to get it sent away.

#gender neutral reader #genshin impact imagines #alhaitham #alhaitham x gender neutral reader #alhaitham x reader #thoma #thoma x reader #thoma x gender neutral reader #ayato #ayaka

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hannuhbee · 2 years

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𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝘆 𝗽𝗶𝗰𝗸-𝘂𝗽 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀

steve is a dork and learned a bunch of pick-up lines.

pairing; steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings; swearing, fluff, established relationship, steve is an idiot but i love him so it's ok

wc; 0.4k

robin had a lot of advice to give, but some weren't the best. for instance, she had told steve to be more charming and the only way he could do that was to learn cheesy pick-up lines.

you didn't need to be charmed, as you were already with steve. he didn't even have to use pick-up lines to take you out.

"babe," he says. he was following you around your job. he had a day off from scoops and the only thing on his mind was you. it was time to test some new lines.

you hummed.

"babe."

"steve, i'm working."

he groans dramatically and sits down at the counter. you worked at a diner, which was the spot for some date nights.

"gotta tell you something," he said in a low voice. it scared you. "do you like raisins? how do you feel about a date?"

"boo! that's so bad." you laugh.

"what? i think it's real sweet," he says. you smile at him. you loved him so much. him and his stupid little jokes.

you were wiping down the counter. the diner was empty except for you and steve. he looked nice in the neon lights. "so, hit me. i know you've got more."

he seemed to light up at that. he pulled out a tiny notebook that almost had you in tears from laughing so much. "are you a parking ticket? because you've got fine written all over you."

"wow, that's classy. another."

he runs his finger down the list then stops on one and laughs. "this is good. know what's on the menu? me 'n' you."

you had finished all of your work so you had led him to the back to collect your stuff. "hmm, maybe i'll talk to my boss and see if i can get that on the menu." you joke.

"it's good i've got a library card because i am totally checking you out." he gets a real kick out of that one. "that ones cute but i don't have a library card."

"i know." you smile and take his hand. "can i see the list?"

he holds it away from you. "nope, i gotta keep these a secret for whenever you need charming."

"you already charm me, harrington, you don't need cheesy pick-up lines for that."

he wraps his arm around your shoulder and kisses your head. "gotta keep it fresh for my girl."

"your girl," you repeat in a whisper.

"yeah! have to keep you on your toes, you know?"

you shake your head and laugh. steve harrington was using pick-up lines on you, his girlfriend.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington fluff #stranger things #stranger things fluff

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maleyanderecafe · 2 years

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Stalker Shachou no Kareinaru Kyukon ~16-nenkan Suki Datta Nante Kiitemasen~ (Manga)

Created by: Ikka Kisaragi, Michiru Meiji

Genre: Smut/Josei

There have been a lot more male yandere smut lately (maybe it's just me finding out about them), so I decided to take a closer look into that and low and behold, I found another one. Once again, the smut is the most important stuff, but since I don't really care for josei smut that much, I'll just try to summarize the "story" that's going on, which is... pretty absurd, but in an entertaining way. As of writing this, there are 6 chapters.

The story starts with office lady Konoha waking up to see her boss, Kujo sleeping beside her. Kujo suddenly proposed to Konoha yesterday and broke into her house to sleep next to her. He makes her breakfast before the two go to work. At work, Konoha sees just how different he acts with her versus when he's at the workplace, as he's serious and confident at work but extremely sweet and househusband. She tries to look for another job, but since Kujo is rich, there's not really any reason to. Sexy time happens. Kujo continues to follow Konoha around while she tries to figure out what to do, but when he works late she realizes just how lonely she really is. He comes home after listening on his tracking device and more sexy times occur after they watch some TV together. The two go to Kujo's mansion, which is just filled with sculptures, pictures, portraits and even a recreated room of Konoha's high school room. and a high school hologram of her (wait, why a hologram...?). More sexy times (and a weird mention of how he would have done it with a high school Konoha? My dude, that's creepy). They fly for a date and Kujo reveals how they know each other, through his grandfather and her grandmother. Also, he apparently has hired bodyguards for her since she became an orphan. Sexy time on a plane. As she tries to run off embarrassed, she almost falls off the plane because the ladder wasn't properly installed, however, Kujo is able to protect her before passing out because again, they both fell off a plane that didn't have stairs. Kujo is in a coma for a month, which... surprise, he faked (wait, for a whole month? But why?!) Konoha feels embarrassed that she's been essentially crying for a faked coma Kujo for a month and more sexy times occur. The two go on a date together to a movie theater and then her favorite cafe and they talk about how Konoha has just been pushing aside her feelings for the sake of others. Kujo has installed a one way mirror in the booth they're in (What?? HOW?!) and they have exhibitionism sex in the middle of the cafe.

Yeah, I can NOT make this thing up, none of the scenes really make that much sense (I mean it's a smut, so it doesn't have to) but some of these scenarios are really absurd and funny that I can't take this seriously. For a lot of Josei smut I read, usually the plot is either really good or basically nonexistent, but reading some of these scenarios is just absolutely hilarious. Why was the main plot of one chapter him falling out from a plane and faking a coma for a month so he could see Konoha cry? Why does he have a hologram of high school Konoha instead of, I dunno, a statue? How did he install a one way mirror in the booth they were in and how did Kohana not even realize it when she got in? It's probably not even intentional, but these things are really absurd. It also has the more rapey/dubcon stuff that appears in a lot of smut joseis, but as I don't care for those things, I usually just skip it since it doesn't add anything to the "plot". I'm assuming these scenarios are just made so that the artist could draw the smut scenes in different sexy scenarios. Normally, I'd be annoyed by the kind of weird consistency that smut tends to have (although, again, it's smut, sex is literally the most important thing and any good story is just a bonus) but honestly with just how weird and over the top this is, I can't really hate it.

Anyways, if this sounds interesting to you, try it out. It's not that long, it has a stalker yandere in it and it's funny. Just don't take it seriously. It's too bad it got dropped in translations, because I really want to know where it's going.

#male yandere #yandere #yandere boy #recommendations #manga #ongoing #Stalker Shachou no Kareinaru Kyukon ~16-nenkan Suki Datta Nante Kiitemasen~

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merakiui · 2 years

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Overflowing thoughts about Scara... Please do share some!

I will happily share! Please forgive me if it's too scattered... orz

Yandere ideas

Secret Alliance plot but with Scaramouche.

Your new roommate is mysteriously intriguing. He doesn't talk much about himself, his hobbies and interests are very surface level, and he seems almost superficial at times. As if he has to uphold a façade for some reason. You'd like to get to know him better so that the two of you can become closer friends, but Scaramouche seems to hold you at a distance. Little do you know that he's actually the man who's been stalking you and now that he's finally moved in and has you and this space all to himself... He's waited a year for this and you're completely oblivious of the secrets he really hides. Your prying is starting to annoy him, though. After all, he can't have you learning more than you're meant to know.

Ex-boyfriend Scaramouche who can't get over you no matter how much he tries. This leads him down a spiraling path, where he begins to follow you home from work, look into who you call your friends, visit your family member's places to still keep up the farce that he's your loving boyfriend. You will always be his most precious darling and he was certain he'd always be yours. But when someone new comes into your life, practically sweeps you off your feet and makes you feel safe and secure, the sugary dream Scaramouche has been living in sours. You might have moved on, but he sure hasn't.

Scaramouche who, in his steps towards becoming a god, wants you to be his first follower. He connects with your consciousness by mistake, but after spending some time learning about you he comes back again and again. And now he's certain that you're worthy of being the first one to worship him as a god. You won't have much of a choice either way.

Non-yandere ideas

A silly plot where you and Scaramouche get married solely for the benefits and because he thought it'd be a good middle finger towards his mother and self-proclaimed aunt. Turns out the both of you don't know the first thing about what it means to live together as a couple and now you have to navigate the married life while upholding the image that adulting while in love is so easy (spoiler: it's not) just to get nosy neighbors and coworkers off of your backs.

Office au where you and Scaramouche are vying for employee of the month and as a result the both of you are willing to do whatever it takes to look good in front of your boss so she'll hopefully consider you as worthy candidates. Neither of you get employee of the month, but somehow the two of you became friends throughout the month-long competition.

Scaramouche's annoyances (read friends) truly believe he wouldn't last six months in a healthy relationship because of what they call 'excessive baggage and mommy issues,' things he apparently hasn't sorted through yet. So naturally Scaramouche intends to prove them wrong. And rather than trying to cope with his own problems and get proper therapy (it's cheaper to say 'it is what it is,' according to Scara) he employs his friend with benefits to be his fake lover for the next six months. He really doesn't think he can get any lower than this, but when you make him pay you for every month... It's all to make his friends eat their words! >:( But then he finds himself slowly falling for you and he's not so sure he wants to pretend anymore.

Childe sets you up on a blind date with, according to him, a good friend of his. You expect someone like Mr. Zhongli or the Traveler. What you don't expect is the Sixth Fatui Harbinger. And, for some reason, he seems weirdly interested in this arrangement, though he adamantly denies it.

spy au my beloved <3

#genshin chit chat #scaranya #as you can tell i currently have too many thoughts about mouchey

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yanban-san · 2 years

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i like to think it'd be a certain kind of funny if after everything, all the strings they've pulled nshit, the ONE thing that darling isn't okay with is dating their bosses. like darling's very very much into them too, had a bit of a "they're really popular though, idk maybe im reading too much into things?" talk with elesa that... well, it happened. i'll leave how that went up to you but EVENTUALLY at one of Gal Pal Hangout Time(tm) (gender neutral) darlings like "ok. im gonna do it." and elesa's all like "oh???" and audibly sweating because this usually doesn't end well-and lo and behold you pull a "im gonna quit." on her and her eyes almost bug out of her head. two pairs of eyes certainly bug out of the wall behind you, and before anyone else can say or do anything you follow up with a "i mentioned i don't feel comfortable dating my bosses earlier, right? so im gonna quit and then go for it; confess to ingo and emmet, i mean." and oh, bless you, you're all shaky and a little jittery about it but you look so damn proud of yourself and with the solution you thought up. this' been a damn long while coming because as much as she loves you goddamn are you dense (affectionate) - feather anon

Oh this is adorable-

Put it under the cut because- is long :)

Darling's been a nervous wreck ever since they started catching feelings for their bosses- Between the twins saving them, giving them little gifts, constantly praising them and treating them so sweetly-

Darling's tried to write it off- or perhaps has always been a bit of an air head when it came to these things- as just the two being nice. They are, after all, the legendary Station Masters! They're powerful trainers, both having a myriad of strong pokemon- They run the entirety of Gear Station and the Unovan Transit System like a well oiled machine! Darling's seen them with their coworkers, they've seen their kind encouragements to young trainers who they do battle with. Surely their behavior towards Darling is nothing special; it's just their way of gently encouraging them to do their best as a depot agent! Although, Darling does have to admit, they are rather attractive; Which explains why they have so many devoted fans. And of course people would consider them attractive- Even Gym Leader Elesa befriended the two!

And somehow, though Darling really isn't sure how, they ended up being friends with Elesa as well. They're really not sure what the beautiful model saw in them to approach them one day on their shift, but she did, and seemed oddly nervous talking to them- but they took it in stride and somehow ended up with her asking if they'd like to get coffee later- As friends, of course.

And so Darling and her set up regular hangout times, having coffee- or having a pokemon battle or two- Elesa showing off some of her more exotic electric types she owned, or offering Darling tips and training advice.

However, the conversations Darling has with her... quickly shifted to romantic discussions. At first, Darling thought Elesa may've been trying to ask them out- but she wasn't. She just seemed to genuinely like talking about dates she'd been on, or her friend's love lives- and she often asked Darling about their thoughts- was there anyone they were interested in? Anyone they were in love with?

Darling was shy at first- mentioning off-handedly a boy here or there, and swore- almost swore they saw Elesa look a little crestfallen when they mentioned anybody by name...

And the conversation would drift to your work- did you like your coworkers? Anyone particularly cute?

Or what about your bosses? You know, the handsome, beautiful twins who run the entire transit system- It would be difficult not to like them, right?

Darling sighs at the memories. So much had happened since then- and things had changed, for better or for worse. They’d considered their options, and they had arrived at what they considered the best course of action.

Things just couldn’t continue the way they were anymore. It was impossible.

Darling is sitting across from Elesa again, holding their head in their hands; And Elesa’s wondering what’s wrong.

---

“That’s it,” You announce, voice shaking. “I can’t- I can’t take this- this anymore-”

Elesa looks up from her coffee- She’s actually a little worried, you’ve been looking absolutely miserable these past few days, and you normally seem pretty cheerful- And now your eyes are practically sparkling with tears. Your emotions seemed to be effecting Emmet and Ingo, as well; They had been trying to lift your spirits so desperately, but no matter what, you just seemed.. melancholy at best, and ready to cry at worst.

And now the weather was reflecting just how upset they were as well; It had been raining on and off all week, and no sunshine- Elesa was called into the office of the twins rather urgently, and it was the first time she’d seen one of them looking... inhuman around her. Ingo was nowhere to be seen until suddenly the shadows of the office stretched, condensing into a strange black pool on the floor that writhed and shaped itself gradually into a being she knew was Ingo. Emmet simply did not appear.

The Ingo before her was remarkably... strange looking. His face was blocked by shadows, and he stood much taller than a human could- and his eyes, while still silver, were marked with darkened, slitted pupils rather than his regular eyes. He stood at attention, the shape of four arms wrapped around his back, like how he carried himself as a conductor. The edges of what should’ve been his coat were writhing and stretching into the pool of darkness on the floor, and Elesa should’ve been afraid-

But she wasn’t. It must’ve been some sort of subconscious reaction, she thought, but she felt more pity than anything else for this being in front of her, for some reason.

“Ah, Miss Elesa,” Ingo’s voice was deeper- And she felt her ears rumble at hearing it-

“Our darling is upset. They’re very upset.”

“W-What about?” Elesa asked.

The shadows quivered.

“We don’t know. You told us not to read their mind. To listen to their thoughts- That it was rude. But they are so horribly upset, they avoid us- They’ve been sobbing to themselves in private. They refuse to report to us. They have called out sick when they are not sick.”

Elesa felt a bead of sweat run down her face- Was Ingo going to blame her for this-

“You told us not to read their thoughts, Miss Elesa. I believe you did not intend for anything bad to happen.”

“I- I did not,”

“-They will not speak to us. But perhaps they will speak to you. Find out what makes them suffer. It makes us suffer so. Please.”

----

“-I really can’t. I just can’t go on like this,” You finished, sobbing again as Elesa snapped back to reality.

She needed to focus. She had a mission to complete- And she better complete it soon.

“Wh-What do you mean? Is everything alright?” She asks.

“I’m-” You hiccuped as you silenced your tears. You promised yourself; No crying. “I’m going to quit.”

The atmosphere in the cafe changed dramatically- You didn’t seem to notice.

Elesa noticed. The silence that fell over the cafe was markedly abrupt.

“I’m going to quit my job at Gear Station,” You proclaimed. Your eyes were wet with tears, but you were firm.

Elesa noticed the outside- Dark clouds had gathered over the city- Oh Sinnoh Above-

They were extremely dark clouds, she noted.

Those two were absolutely listening in, and judging by the darkness swirling around the cafeteria, and the fact that it was starting to look like the Fucking Darkest Day of Galar outside your window seat-

Elesa needed to act fast.

“Wait, Wait! Why on Earth would you want to quit? I thought you loved working at Gear Station!” She exclaimed, desperately trying to stop whatever was about to happen-

You looked at your friend- Surely, she of all people, would understand how you felt?

“I- I really do, Elesa...”

“-But,”

“-I love Emmet and Ingo more.” You finished, turning your face downward.

What.

Elesa stopped. Oh, for the love of-

“Then why would you quit your job at-”

"B-Because they’re my bosses, remember? I would never date them like that- But, if I quit... I can ask them out!”

Elesa put her hands to her temples. Oh my fucking god oh my fucking god oh my fucking god- That’s what you’d been crying about, you were fucking working up the courage to- Oh Arceus above-

But no. This was Great! Right??? Elesa picked up her napkin, rubbing it along her brow.

“So, yeah... I’m going to quit. And... hopefully ask them out. Or well, I might- I might ask out... one of them at first... I’m not sure...? I don’t know-”

“DO IT. ASK THEM BOTH OUT.” Elesa practically shouted. It shocked you upright- “B-But what if they-”

“They won’t. I guarantee it. I will say- You’re exactly their type.”

You stared at Elesa in shock- Surely, not- Wait- Had they mentioned that to her?

“Re-really? You think so? I thought they’d like someone more like you-”

“Pfft- Absolutely not-” Elesa guffawed, letting out a genuine laugh. “They’re both idiots.” She noticed the shadow on the wall twitch at this remark. “But lovable ones, I’m sure- I’m sure they’ll accept your feelings, friend.”

You smiled- Elesa was always good at helping you through these things- encouraging you. “Thank you, Elesa.”

“No problem, dear!”

And for the first time in a while, you noticed the sun coming out- It’d been rainy these past few days, hadn’t it? Maybe it was a sign.

Or maybe you had no idea what you were about to get yourself into.

#Demon AU #Monster AU #Demon Submas #Monster Submas #Emmet X Reader #Ingo X Reader #Emmet/Reader #ingo/reader #Feather anon #Seth.anon #Seth.asks #Seth.Emmet #Seth.Ingo

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slashingdisneypasta · 5 months

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Technically this isn't Toon Patrol-centric, however since we've explored Poppy's and Shiny's relationship with Lottie in other AU's, I think it's high time we talked about the gals in OG universe (if you want to of course ^^)

Of course, Lottie is your OC, so whether these are canon on her/your end is all up to you. But here are my thoughts if you'd like;

I think how the girls found out about Charlotte depends on their relationship with the weasels by the time she was left on their doorstep. I got three possible scenarios depending on how tight knit they are with the group.

If Shiny and Poppy didn't know the TP at all... Well they wouldn't know about Lottie until after they gained the boys' trust. Simple as that XD

If the weasels were just starting to come around to the gals, then it probably took a week or two for them to tell Poppy and Shiny. Both because they are still getting used to these two women in their lives, and also because Smartass became a father in one night. They all need a bit of time to adjust XD

If the girls are actually dating Psycho and Greasy, then oh hell yeah, they know right away. I can picture Greasy actually going to call Shiny's work place just before going back to bed and telling her that something pretty big happened, and he'll explain more in the morning like the gossiping bitch he is XD. Poppy also gets the same call in the morning- possibly by Smartass asking her about his list in case he's missinv something... though, ngl I've had an imagine in my head that I've wanted to write where Poppy was actually in Psycho's bed the night Lottie was brought into the house, and she's basically there for the entire thing (Waking up with a shriek when Smartass fires out his front door, following Psycho downstairs despite how very concerned she is about seeing a body, seeing a baby on the porch instead, etc). Though I don't want to impede on your fanfiction and world of course ^^

You and I both know that Poppy is offering her services as much as possible. For one, she loves kids! She'd be happy to help out ^^ and two, she uh... She loves her friends and boyfriend. She really does! But uh... She is also aware of the fact that they may not be the best prepared for a baby XD oh, and just like Stu, Smarty's, and Wheezy's mums, Poppy calls just to check up on Lottie. Psycho gets to know how his boss and comrades feel XD she might come off a bit smothering with how much she tries to help, and I wouldn't be surprised if Smartass actually wound up snapping at her at one point, but she dies truly mean well.

Shiny... Well, this isn't like a deal breaker thing between her and Grease. But she is pretty shocked about all this. After she gets her laugh out (*looks at baby Lottie* *looks at each individual weasel before landing on Smartass* "So, who's the mama~?" "Why'd you ask me first!?"). She's gotta hand it to Smartass for not shipping the kid off to a foster house, that's for certain. But it is going to take her some time to used to the fact that there is a b a b y in the house now. She may not even hold Lottie at first because holy shit, that is a tiny, brand-new-to-the-world weasel. In this house. I can kind of see her being hesitant to hold Lottie similar to how Robin was to hold Lilly and Marshall's baby in HIMYM. Though eventually, she got to hold Lottie for the first time... And she didn't give her back for almost two hours XD

As much as Poppy loves Lottie... She also doesn't approve of Psycho just claiming her as his/their own XD she'd be helping Smartass try to reign Psycho in as much as possible.

Of course, since Smartass is the father, he's supposed to be the one taking care of all the paperwork related to the baby (like getting Lottie into school), I can't help but think about them going to Poppy a lot for this stuff since she is the legal friend XD she doesn't like- pretend to be Lottie's real parent at PTA meetings, but Smartass has asked her on what would be the legal course of action to deal with annoying PTA mums before. Just- how to act the part of a civilian father XD

Shiny hanging out with Lottie when she's 'arrested' by the Toon Patrol!! She's gotta stay inside their house for a certain amount of time before she's 'bailed out' and can rejoin society, so why not?? She and the little rugrat will get into loads of trouble with Lottie's plotting mind and Shiny's experience and willingness to cover for her neice. Greasy and Smartass won't know peace XD

If Poppy and Roger are related, oh you know she's the bridge between the weasels and the Rabbits. Next to Lottie and Ritchie, of course XD she's trying to get Greasy to leave Jessica a l o n e ("She is a married woman, Greasy!! The mother of your neices' best friend!!"), and she will tackle-hug Psycho when he's chasing her cousin around at family outings. Meanwhile, Shiny is just kicking back with the kids and enjoying the crazy show, ("Man, you're guys' families are insane, huh? Wanna go get ice cream before people realize you're related to them?")

When Lottie joined the navy, Poppy was absolutely crying proud, we'll-miss-you-so-much tears on the dock. And telling Lottie to take care of herself and take it as easy as she can (despite... You know, going into the navy XD). Shiny was also proud and sentimental, but she didn't cry or fret. She just gave Lottie one final hug and told her to kick ass on that ship ^^ and that when she got home, they all were definitely having a fun girls night to help her relax the military driven mindset she'll develop.

That's all I can think if at the moment unfortunately. But I hope you like these and that I didn't overstep ^^ feel free to ignore of course ^^

You are absolutely not overstepping, I loved waking up to this! :D :D :D

First of all, I love the idea of Poppy being there with Psycho the night Lottie was dropped off!! I would love to hear more about that if you have thoughts!!! 💛💥💕💛💥💕!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Omg- Shiny finally holding Lottie and then not letting her go for hours? XD Ahhh, that is so so so cute!! XDD And MAN- Poppy's and Shiny's responses to Lottie joining the navy are so so sweet and my heart is so so warm !!

!!! I want to add stuff, I hope thats okay!! ^^ Here are some imagines/thoughts I've had with Lottie, Poppy and Shiny.

Imagine one day Rena turns up to see Adult!Lottie, and Smartass isn't around. And Poppy isn't around. And Stupid isn't around. And Wheezy's not around- no one is there, except Shiny. If Poppy had been there then Lottie might have allowed Rena to come closer and talk to her (Though lord knows, Rena would have nothing good to say. Rena's the kinda mother to only come find her daughter if she needs a transplant or something.), but since she's at Shiny's bar with her Lottie feels absolutely no qualms in telling Rena to leave. Lottie's kind but she is her fathers daughter and she's tough as nails and, yes, she has a hateful side- and Rena is on it. And since its Shiny she's with, who she knows will encourage that if thats what she wants (No questions asked), she feels perfectly comfortable showing it. And Shiny doesn't pester her afterwards over whether she's okay or not, either. I just like the idea of Shiny allowing Lottie to be her tough, hard-ass self.

Imagine if Rena came when Lottie was little and Shiny was babysitting her. I need to know what you think Shiny would do/how she would react XD

Imagine Adult!Post-Navy!Lottie telling Poppy how cool she thinks she is and how much respect she has for her!! Cuz like- Lottie truly does think Poppy is an amazing amazing person and she has just as much respect for as she does for Smartass and thats saying something. She thinks much higher of her then any of her uncles, thats for sure. "Poppy you're literally the coolest, don't underestimate yourself." "I'm a quiet seamstress sweetie. I'm not tough like Shiny, or Smartass, or Greasy, or you- " "Hey. You're kinder then any of us and that is infinitely better then anything the rest of us have, trust me. Case closed." Lottie's voice is gentle but not to be argued with. Cuz my goodness, she has so much awe and respect for Poppy!! So so much!! She genuinely thinks Poppy is the coolest person XD Lottie has her priorities straight!

Imagine Teenage!Lottie sneaking out of her house to go on a date and Shiny and Greasy are supposed to be 'babysitting' her while the others are all out. Shiny catches sight of Lottie slipping past them in the dark while Greasy's engrossed in the movie in front of them and Lottie's eyes go wide. She points to the back of Greasy's head and holds a finger up to her mouth. Like stay. quiet. He will rat her out to her dad in a heartbeat. What happens next? XD

And a simple, fun (for us XD Not so much for Poppy 😅) one- Imagine Child!Lottie asking Poppy and Smartass together why she doesn't have a mummy. Imagine Child!Lottie asking Poppy if she's her mother. What does Poppy do when Smartass is just like... 'not it' and looks pointedly down at a newspaper? XD

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mental-health-advice · 2 months

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I recently cut off a friend (we are both close to 30) because she was draining me emotionally and refused to change her behavior when I addressed it, but now that time has passed I am still grieving this friendship and need to know if I did the right thing.

For the past 2+ years this friend has obsessively texted me from the moment they woke up until they went to sleep, almost every day. This was easily over 30 texts a day. We had been friends for a while when this started and she was going through a bad break up and trouble at our mutual workplace, so at first I thought she was just reaching out during a crisis. But it never stopped and it just became normal to me.

This person is not my closest friend by several people, but the texts became more and more emotionally intimate - just constant updates about what she was doing or feeling during the day - all of her emotional ups and downs. It didn't matter if I ignored the texts, they just kept coming to the point that while on vacation with my family they asked me to mute her because it was visibly "ruining" my time off.

I admit that I didn't realize how odd this was partly because this started during peak COVID when a lot of people, including myself, were isolated and reaching out more, and partly because it was flattering that someone seemed to care so much about my opinions and wanted to talk to me so much.

But she seemed to fixate on me more and more. She made a private twitter account and asked me to follow it - it ended up just being me following it and none of her "best" friends. She used this twitter to share even more of her emotions including intense emotional and sexual thoughts about people she wanted to date. She also began texting me pictures of journal entries and I didn't know how to respond.

I finally realized how one sided this relationship was when she cut me off in the middle of telling a story about a work-related milestone that had just happened and was really important to me because she wanted to talk about her upcoming first date with someone she met on an app. I sat on that feeling and decided to address it with her. I told her at a private lunch that I felt we had fallen into a pattern where she relied on me for emotional support and intimacy. And that I didn't feel she always considered my emotions or what I may be going through before messaging me. I told her that I was going through a lot at the moment (abusive boss, family illnesses - all things she was aware of) and that just because I don't express it the same way that she does that doesn't mean it's not taking a toll on me. I said that I was happy that she was finding joy in dating again, but I would like a boundary where we don't talk about the ups and downs of each date. I would be happy to meet this person when she wants me to or be there for her if there is something serious to discuss, but it is a lot for me to be there for all of the emotional ups and downs of dating on top of the other things she texts me about as well as my own personal struggles unrelated to her.

At first she apologized profusely and said she was being a bad friend, which I denied because she couldn't know that something is upsetting me unless I tell her. I just asked that in the future could she please consider my feelings or what I may be going through before messaging me. She then proceeded to ignore me in person for over a week, but would still text me about herself, never asking me about myself. This made me feel used and I started to ignore her in return.

However, I felt that I had to give her time to adjust to the boundary and asked to have lunch again to check in. She said she was avoiding me because by asking her to consider her behavior in the future I reminded her of our abusive boss (who has objectively and publicly lashed out at me in ways she has not experienced). She also said that I was invalidating her dating efforts because she only wanted to talk to me about it. She said that there are things she only tells me and her journal.

I apologized, but afterwards I just felt angry. I felt it was manipulative to compare me to our mutual abuser. If she didn't mean to be manipulative, then it at least demonstrated how she can't think about my feelings because she cannot see how much our boss has abused me and how that might affect my feelings separate from her. I didn't appreciate being compared to a journal, but I realized it was an accurate comparison. I feel that she has treated me like an inanimate object who should hold her feelings but have none of my own.

She kept messaging me - again just about herself, never asking about me. I responded but didn't give it the same energy as before to distance myself. I didn't try to engage with her in person but neither did she - she never asked to have coffee or lunch like we used to. I got the feeling that she expected me to make things better, but I didn't feel the need to do that work for someone who doesn't think they should have to think about my feelings - especially after I went through the effort to be direct about what was upsetting me.

I am mourning the closeness I thought I had in this friendship and the way it made me feel like my thoughts mattered. But the more I look back, the more I realize this friendship was about me being there for her feelings with very little reciprocity. I feel guilty, but I also don't think it's fair to be assigned as someone's caregiver. I wanted a mutual friendship, not to be a mom or therapist. I was on call for her emotions - and she expected me to be - for over two years. I asked her to be more considerate about my feelings and she couldn't do it for one week. But then the guilt says, did I ruin everything?

Hey there,

After reading your Ask I do not feel as though you were in the wrong for the decision that you made to cut contact with this friend at all. It is fairly evident that you did everything that you could have to ask her to be a bit more considerate to yourself and to also try to put a few boundaries into place. This is and was a really positive step to take on your behalf as friendships should not just be one-sided which is what it sounded like your friendship with this person was. With saying this though, it is quite normal to grieve the loss of this friendship (no matter if it was toxic or not) and to question yourself on if you did the right thing or not in the actions that you took. Try to be kind to yourself though, as I know how hard it can be with a one-sided friendship and how it can play on your mind and make you feel like you were the bad person in ending the friendship when in reality you were just doing what you needed to do for you and to enable yourself to work through your own life struggles to the best of your ability without being bombarded by someone with what they were going through as well. I guess what I am trying to say is that I personally feel as though you did everything right for you and that you acted in ways that you personally needed to at the time, and there is nothing wrong with doing this at all!

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you and hope that you are going well!

Take care,

Lauren

#mha-lauren #advice #advice blog #mental health advice #anonymous #friendship #toxic #cutting contact

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an-aura-about-you · 5 months

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Long post is long, so I'll make a new one! Thank you @coolalicious for tagging me to do this!

Name(s) - Aura (to the point that if you see Aura in a handle somewhere else then it's probably me)

Pronouns - x/they/she in order of preference.

Star sign - on the Pisces side of the Aquarius/Pisces cusp

# of siblings & fun facts about them (if you have any) - I have one sibling who's younger than me by 1 1/2 years. fun fact: their favorite animal is the platypus!

# of pets & their names - I have one cat, a little black domestic shorthair kitty named Schroedinger.

Fandoms - Princess Tutu, The Magnus Archives, the Chzo Mythos, Homestar Runner, and pretty much anything else I've got on the backburner

Favorite color - puce

Favorite song - this is always one of the hardest questions because does this mean of all time? just right now? the one that I can listen to endlessly on repeat? the one that makes me go 110% feral? I think I'll answer based on vibes, and based on vibes my favorite song is Gymnopedie no. 1 by Erik Satie.

Favorite author (of anything readable-- books, fanfics, zines, webtoons, whatever!) - oh, this is another hard one. it is not at all helped by the fact that I've been going through the audiobook of Lightlark and thoroughly enjoying it for reasons the author never intended, which is the case when you pursue media with a So Bad It's Good mindset. but I might have to give an honorable mention to Alex Aster anyway for the sheer number of times I had to pause her audiobook because I was doubled over laughing at it. but for a more sincere answer, I will pick Mel Brooks, which almost feels like cheating, but his professional memoir All About Me! was such an enjoyable ride and had that same voice and beloved sense of humor he's honed in his movies. Mel Brooks is one of the few celebrities I've written a fan letter to, an actual physical fan letter written by hand, and he is well worth that effort.

Hobbies - cooking, writing, taking walks at the park, playing games with friends

Favorite fic type - you know how some fandoms have a very specific type of fic by the nature of canon? my favorite fic is a type specific to the fandom for The Magnus Archives related to the tropes of Loves My Alter Ego and Two Sided Love Triangle. specifically, I love the premise Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist being a former member of real life band The Mechanisms (that real life Jonathan Sims was a member of) and hapless archival assistant Martin Blackwood being a fan of The Mechanisms, resulting in him being torn between his crush on his prickly boss and his crush on frontman Jonny d'Ville unaware that they are in fact the same person. my ideal version of this would be at a point where the crush is mutual and at first Jon uses his Jonny d'Ville persona to try acting as a wingman for Martin to get him with himself?? but then that kind of evolves into Martin dating Jonny while still being unaware it's Jon somehow. we're talking Rio Pacheco from Jem and the Holograms levels of unaware, which I will forgive Martin for because he's just so starstruck.

Favorite holiday - New Year's! I even made arrangements to take the whole week off so I can properly enjoy it. <3

Do you have any partner(s)? (romantic, qpp, anything!) - nope! I'm happily single and ready for some Pringles!

Fun facts about you / anything extra you wanna share! - so y'all know I love food and I like to cook, and I've mentioned before that I've been to culinary school, but I don't know how many of my current followers know that I actually went to Le Cordon Bleu for their baking and patisserie program and in fact graduated from there with honors. I earned my coveted blue cravat for doing so.

and I tag anyone who wants to do this!

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blackplaaague · 9 months

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My friends thought I should see the new Helluva Boss, and I did, so here's what I thought:

-I don't really follow the series so I don't know most of what was going on, but it was surprisingly intuitive

-There's a clown! A robot clown! A gay robot clown! They sound like Beetlejuice

-They ARE beetlejuice.

-The robot clown has this really tall boyfriend with a really nice voice but they're secretly dating. They have to pretend they're not dating for reasons?

-Wait I know the tall guy, that's Asmodeus, from the episode I saw once with the weird song

-This clown is kind of a, well, a clown

-Oh, that guy I don't like much is back. Only, they're making him sympathetic with a sad backstory so I don't hate him anymore, I just find his voice kind of agitating

-It took, like, 2 seconds for that cowboy (he was in the episode with the married couple I like that shoots people) to grab that clown

-There's a paperwork subplot. Most of the episode is fighting, dancing, or dance fighting and there's a PAPERWORK SUBPLOT

-I like the animation. It's very smooth.

-There's a whole scene that's mostly just vague innuendos and I don't know how that makes me feel

-Current mood is the goon who dropped his stack of cards, pulled out a comically oversized gun, and shot a go-cart, triggering a chain reaction that freed his prisoners and started a song number

-There's a song? This is a musical show! Sick!

-Hey if I post about this the bad fans will rip me open for my dumb opinions

-OH NO THE POOR CLOWN IS AN AMPUTEE. AND NO ONE VISITED HIM IN THE HOSPITAL.

-After he sings a song and the annoying guy (Blitz, no o) welds though the ceiling?

-Bro this clown has so much trauma I swear

-The lust guy cares about consent! Very important! Love him

-The owl was back for literally no reason. I like him.

-The scene where our clown guy is back at home and he feels bad about how he made bad decisions and broke his arm? And his boyfriend who is literally the embodiment of lust is all nice and sweet and helps fix his arm? That melted my heart.

-Seriously, I almost cried. the ships are surprisingly, refreshingly healthy for a show about demon assassins

-I cannot believe I, the stone-hearted, loveless aro I am, who has sworn off all fandom activity, kind of definitely ships those two.

-It's because they remind me of Victoria and Tabitha

-IT'S BECAUSE THEY REMIND ME OF VICTORIA AND TABITHA

-I love that dynamic of "reckless and smol" and "chill and tol"

-Literally. It feels like Victoria and Tabitha. Vic reminds me of the clown, since she's small and mortal and gets into trouble, and Tabitha is the lust guy because she's protective and powerful and immortal

-I swear, I love that dynamic of "I think I'm unloveable" and "I love you anyway"

-Why is everyone in this show so horny all the time. Do they sleep

#bp rambles #helluva boss #oops #theeispode was called oops #helluva boss s2 #helluva boss review #review #tv show review #indie animation #cartoon #cartooning #animated cartoon #vivziepop #animation #2d animation #tv show

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subtle-edge-of-rot · 2 years

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Please, you're gonna make me swoon. If you give me kisses I have to give you more kisses. We would never be able to date, you'd be struggling out the door on the way to work because I don't wanna stop giving you smooches 😤

Also, just the way that Bo would be sure to tease him about it at every turn. He'd wait for you to leave the living room upstairs before he makes some snarky comment. He'd nearly topple over laughing over Vince getting hard with you just sitting on his lap, the both of them knowing full well it would be the exact same for him.

He'd ask why Vince hasn't just pulled you into bed yet, talking about how warm its going to feel inside you and painting a lewd mental image about how you must sound like when you moan. He'd follow up to say he swears he heard you saying "Vincent" alone in your room the other day. Little remarks about how it's going to feel to finally hold you and touch your chest/thighs etc.

In finality he'd half joke about how he may as well go up there and ask you to take care of his little issue that he's trying to hide with the couch blanket. Bo would ruffle Vincent's hair and snicker before leaving to go pester you himself.

And the way that Vincent touches you would be with so much desperation and heat. You'd catch his hands shaking when they're on you--half from nerves and other half from the restraint it's taking not to cross the line and fully touch you like he wants to. Maybe before the two of you are officially involved he's felt just how hot your skin is while you're laying against his chest. He's lost on if he should put his hand on your upper back and highlighting to himself that the shirt doesn't have anything under it or if he should put it on the small of your back--bare skin from your shirt riding up.

He thinks he got away with the little brush of his lips against the back of your neck, so desperate for it to happen that he didn't hear the way your breath was shaky after. He wouldn't even think that his breath was hot against the back or your neck or that you were desperate for the little kiss too.

-💙

Don’t threaten me with a good time, Blue. Smooch central up in this bitch. I would happily be late to work because of all the smooches. My boss can get over it. 💋💋💋

Bo is such a tease lol, he’s always poking fun at his brothers. So Vincent is going to get an absolute earful about his constant boners around you. He mostly does it because he’s a little (a lot) jealous of his twin. He’ll paint pretty pictures in his head about what you sound like, what you must feel like…everything. Poor Vincent is in hell.

Oh how his hands would tremble when he even barely touches you. He’s so down bad for you that it’s almost maddening—especially with you running around the house in just one of his tees and a cute pair of underwear. Add the fact that you’re so physically affectionate, always pressing up against him or sitting down on his lap for movie night. God he’d be constantly excusing himself just to get some quick relief.

That kiss to the back of your neck was something he didn’t even realize he was doing. You’re just there, so close, and he wants to bury his face in your warm skin and kiss you all over—and his body goes into autopilot, brushing his lips all along the column of your spine before abruptly stopping when he realizes what he’s done. He doesn’t register your reaction because he’s embarrassed. He quickly excuses himself.

#payton’s asks #💙anon #blue my beloved #vincent sinclair #Bo Sinclair

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