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sergeantbarnessdoll · 3 months ago

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I Would Choose You In Every Lifetime » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Best Friend!40s Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female Reader, Best Friend/TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky would choose a lifetime with you over anything else.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, language, best friends to lovers, crying, kissing, pet names

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

“Why do you insist on getting into fights?” You asked, cleaning blood off of Steve’s lip with a tissue.

“He started it.” Steve says like a child.

You playfully rolled your eyes at your best friend and continued to clean the blood off of his lip and nose.

“What happened this time?” Bucky asks, walking in the alley.

“Nothing…” Steve answers, lying through his teeth.

Bucky knew he’d say that so he looked at you for the answer.

“Some guy was talking during the Army film and wouldn’t be quiet so him and Steve came back here to fight.” You tell him.

“I swear you like getting punched.” He says to Steve.

Steve rolled his eyes at Bucky.

“Did you get your orders?” Steve asks Bucky.

“The 107th, Sergeant James Barnes.” He answers with a proud smile.

“Oh my god! I’m so proud of you, Bucky!” You say, hugging him tightly.

Bucky smiles and hugs you back. You kissed his cheek before pulling away from the hug.

“I get shipped out tomorrow.” He tells you two.

The smile on your face faded away. You didn’t know he’d be getting shipped out this soon.

“Tomorrow?” You asked.

“I know it’s soon, but we can still spend the rest of today together.” Bucky says, handing a newspaper to Steve.

Steve read the top headline of the newspaper.

“Stark Expo.” Steve reads aloud.

“We’re going tonight and we got dates waiting for us.” Bucky says.

“You found a man for me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, no. Sorry. I couldn’t find anyone for you, doll.” He apologizes.

“Oh. It’s ok.” You say.

“Come on. Let’s not keep the girls waiting.” He says, putting his arm around Steve’s shoulder.

You followed behind them. Truth be told, you were hoping that Bucky would ask you to be his date to the Stark Expo. You’ve had a crush on him for a while, but you don’t think he feels the same way about you.

When you three got to the Stark Expo, Bucky walked hand and hand with his date. He didn’t pay attention to you at all. Steve’s date paid little to no attention to him. You felt left out.

You stayed till Howard Stark displayed a floating car before walking out. You sat on the stairs in front of the building. Steve noticed you weren’t with him and Bucky anymore and went to find you. He found you crying on the stairs. He sat down next to you and gave you a tissue to dry your tears.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks softly with worry in his voice.

“I’m fine, Stevie.” You sniffled, lying through your teeth.

“No you’re not. Talk to me.” He says softly.

You fiddled with the tissue for a short moment before answering him.

“I’ve had a crush on Bucky for a while now and he brought a date with him. I was hoping he’d ask me to be his date to this, but he didn’t. He’s leaving tomorrow and he won’t know I’m in love with him.” You tell Steve. “I don’t even know if he feels the same way about me.” You added.

“Tell him. I’m sure he feels the same way.” He says.

“How?” You looked at Steve. “He’s with that girl.” You say.

Steve thought about it for a moment when he thought of something.

“I’ll be right back.” He says, standing up and walking away.

Steve walked back to the building. Bucky walked out of the door at the same time Steve approached it.

“I was wondering where you were.” Bucky says. “Where were you?” He asks.

“Comforting Y/N.” Steve answers. “She’s upset.” He says.

“Why’s she upset?” He asks.

“I think you should hear it from her.” He says. “She’s sitting on the stairs.” He tells him.

Bucky nodded and made his way to you. He heard your sniffles from a couple feet away. He sat down next to you on the stairs.

“Steve told me you’re upset. What’s wrong?” Bucky asks softly.

“What do you care? You have a girl with you tonight.” You say.

Bucky frowned. You’ve never talked to him like this. Even when you’re upset about something.

“What’s wrong?” He asks again.

“You wouldn’t care even if I told you.” You say.

“Never say that again. I care about you and you know it. Steve knows it too.” He says.

You lifted your head and looked at Bucky.

“If you cared, you wouldn’t have asked another girl to be your date to this thing.” You say.

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?” Bucky asks.

You scoffed before answering him.

“You barely paid attention to me tonight! It’s like I’m invisible to you.” You said, raising your voice a little bit. “You’re leaving for the Army tomorrow and you can’t you see that I’m in love with you!” You blurted out.

Bucky’s eyes went wide when you confessed your love to him.

“You’re in love with me?” He asks, making sure he heard you right.

“What does it matter?” You asked. “It’s not like you feel the same way about me.” You mumbled loud enough for him to hear.

“It does matter.” He said. “Cause I’m in love with you too.” He confesses.

“You don’t mean it. You’re going to meet some nurse in the Army and fall in love with her.” You say before standing up.

Bucky was quick to stand up and grabbed your arm before you could walk away from him.

“Let go of me, James.” You said, trying to tug your arm out of his firm grip.

“Don’t do this, doll. I don’t want to spend my last day with you mad at me.” Bucky says.

“You don’t love me.” You said.

Instead of saying anything, Bucky kisses you passionately, catching you off guard. You kissed him back.

“I do love you, doll. You just won’t believe it.” He says softly, putting his forehead against yours and looking in your teary eyes.

You gazed in his beautiful blue eyes and caressed his cheek. Bucky leaned into your touch.

“Go fight for our country and try not to die, Buck.” You almost whispered with tears rolling down your cheeks.

Bucky slowly let go of you. He watched you walk away with a couple tears escaping his eyes. You didn’t want to do this, but you had to. Your heart broke into a million pieces as you walked away. Bucky felt like someone ripped his heart out of his chest and crushed it in their bare hands. You walked away knowing that you’re in love with one of your best friends and you don’t believe he’s in love with you.

70+ YEARS LATER…

Bucky can still hear the last words you said to him before he got shipped off to the Army. “Go fight for our country and try not to die.” are the only words being echoed in his mind. He felt like he failed you. He wishes that he poured his heart and soul out to you to confess his love for you, but you could only see him with girls who aren’t you. That’s something Bucky regrets… going on dates with girls who aren’t you. He should’ve asked you to be his doll forever when he had the chance.

“Bucky?” Sam says, snapping Bucky out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” Bucky asks, looking at Sam.

“You ok?” He asks. “You looked like you were in a trance.” He says.

“Yea, I’m fine.” He says.

Bucky isn’t fine and Sam knows it.

“I know me and you don’t know each other like you and Steve did, but you can talk to me about it if you want.” Sam says.

Bucky looks down at his lap, fiddling with his fingers. He was quiet for a moment before saying anything.

“It’s about someone from my past… a girl.” Bucky finally spoke up.

“Was she your girlfriend or wife or something?” Sam asks curiously.

“No.” He answers. “Her name is Y/N and she was mine and Steve’s girl best friend.” He tells him. “Her and I got into a fight the night before I got shipped out to the Army.” He says.

“What was the fight about?” He asks.

“She was in love with me, but I was too stupid to pay her any attention that night and I asked another girl to be my date to Howard Stark’s Expo.” He explains. “I tried to tell her that I was in love with her, but she was too upset to believe me. Her last words to me were-” Bucky felt himself getting choked up on his words and took a deep breath before continuing his sentence. “Go fight for our country and try not to die.” He tells him, his voice cracking.

“Are you still in love with her?” Sam asks.

“I never stopped loving her.” Bucky said. “She wouldn’t believe me, even if she was alive.” He says.

“I’m sorry, man.” He says sincerely, patting his shoulder.

Bucky gave Sam a small smile before standing up and went to get some fresh air to clear his mind. He walked down the streets of New York with the light fall breeze blowing with his hands in his jacket pockets. He was walking past a coffee shop when he looked up and stopped in his tracks and seen someone- a woman from his past… you, working behind the counter at the coffee shop.

“Holy shit…” Bucky mumbles to himself.

Bucky entered the coffee shop at the same time you looked up from the cash register, making eye contact with him. He felt his heart skip a beat and your eyes went wide. Neither of you could believe what you two were seeing. Bucky stared at you like he just seen a ghost. You were staring at him with the same look on your face. You motioned one of your coworkers to the register before you walked over to Bucky. Bucky’s eyes never left you for a second. Yours didn’t leave him either. You two stared at each other in silence, not knowing what to say to each other.

“Do you umm- want some coffee?” You asked, remembering that you’re at work.

“Yes, that would be nice.” Bucky answers softly. “You know what I like.” He says.

You smiled and nodded your head before going to get him a coffee. Bucky sat down at a nearby table and patiently waited for you.

“Who’s the hot guy you were talking to?” One of the baristas asks.

“One of my guy best friends.” You answered quietly.

“Is he single?” She curiously asks.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at her.

“He’s yours. Got it.” She says before going back to work.

You put the lid on the cup and walked over to the table Bucky was sitting at. You put the coffee in front of him and sat down across from him. Bucky tapped his fingers against the paper cup and you fiddled with your fingers.

“How are you?” You asked after a short moment.

Bucky stopped tapping his fingers against the cup and looked at you. He wasn’t sure how to answer that question without getting upset.

“I’m good.” Bucky finally answers. “How are you?” He asks.

“I’m good too.” You answered.

Bucky nodded and took a sip of his coffee. You opened your mouth to say something, but one of your coworkers told you to get back to work. You took a pen out of your pocket and grabbed a napkin, writing your phone number and address.

“Here’s my phone number and address. I get off of work at 2:30pm.” You tell him.

“Ok.” He says.

You and Bucky stood up at the same time. He watched you walk back behind the counter, going back to work. Bucky smiles before leaving.

When it came time for the end of your shift, you finally went home. When you got home, you seen Bucky sitting on the front steps of your small house. It may not be much, but you call it home.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” You say, walking to your front door.

“I’ll always come if it’s you. You know that.” Bucky smiles.

There is was again… the awkward silence.

“Let’s go inside.” You say.

“That would be nice.” He says.

You unlocked the door and walked inside of your house. Bucky followed behind you, closing the door behind him. Bucky took a look around while you took your jacket off and set your things down. He smiles when he seen pictures of you and your parents hung up on the walls. His heart skipped a beat when he seen a few pictures of you, him, and Steve on the wall.

“I suppose you want answers.” You say from behind him.

“Yes I do.” He says.

You and Bucky went to the living room and sat down on the couch so the two of you can talk.

“Let’s start with why you never told me or even Steve that you were alive.” Bucky says, getting straight to the point.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized. “I should’ve reached out to one of you, but I was scared to.” You say.

“What have you could possibly be scared of?” He asks.

“HYDRA finding me.” You say.

Bucky felt his heart drop and his eyes widened when you said HYDRA.

“HYDRA got their hands on you?” Bucky asks, making sure he heard you right.

“Yes.” You nodded.

“When?” He asks.

“Shortly after you… you know.” You say, referring to when he fell off of the train in 1945.

Bucky’s jaw clenched at the thought of HYDRA getting their hands on you.

“What did they do to you?” He asks.

“Experimented different kinds of Super Soldier serums on me. None of them worked, except for one. It’s the one that worked for you and Steve.” You explained. “They put me through so many experiments. It hurt so bad.” Bucky didn’t miss the way your voice cracked. “I couldn’t take it anymore, Bucky. So I finally found the best opportunity to escape and I haven’t looked back since then.” You say.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks at this point. Bucky immediately wrapped his arms around you. You melted into his touch like you used to do.

He was ready to start questioning why you didn’t reach out to him sooner, but that’s the furthest thing on his mind.

“I’m so sorry, doll.” Bucky apologizes softly.

“It’s not your fault, Bucky. You didn’t know.” You say and sniffled.

“I could’ve done something. I could’ve looked for you.” He says.

“You are doing something now. You’re holding me.” You say, looking up at him.

Bucky looks down at you. He seen a sparkle in your eyes through the tears. It’s the sparkle he always seen when you guys were younger. He hasn’t seen it in years. It made him smile when he seen it.

“I meant what I said the night before I left for the Army. I am in love with you. I have been for years.” Bucky tells you.

You could tell he meant it this time. Unlike the last time he said it.

You gazed in his beautiful blue eyes, getting easily lost in them. Your eyes drifted down to his lips. His lips look soft. You wondered to yourself if they were still as soft as the night he kissed you before he left for the Army. You leaned in and so did Bucky. It felt like everything was in slow motion when your lips met his. You two felt that same spark and passion from that night years ago.

Your hands grasped onto his shirt, clutching the fabric in your hands. Bucky’s right hand gently caressed your cheek. You two were lost in the kiss. There was so much passion in the kiss that it took your breaths away. You two finally pulled away, gazing in each other’s eyes breathlessly.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized, almost whispering. “I shouldn’t have let that night end like that. We should’ve ended that night on something good.” You murmured softly.

“That doesn’t matter anymore. As long as we’re together now, everything is going to be the way it should be.” Bucky softly says.

“I love you, Buck.” You say to him for the first time in years.

“I love you too, doll.” His thumb softly rubbed against the skin of your cheek. “I would choose you in every lifetime.” He whispers.

A smile grew on your lips. You softly and sweetly kissed him. Bucky smiles against your lips.

“I would choose you in every lifetime too.” You tell him.

“Does this mean you’re my doll now?” He asks in a whisper.

“Oh, Bucky…” You whispered, lifting a hand to caress his bearded cheek. “I’ve always been yours. Forever and always.” You tell him softly.

“Forever and always.” He whispers, kissing you once more.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

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cherrydbear · 7 months ago

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Since y'all seemed to like this I'll keep rambling on the subject, I can do this all day. Here are some of those examples where I think their friendship really shines through:

From Sanji's perspective, this guy just showed up outside his restaurant one day, dueled the legendary swordsman who slashed Don Krieg's fleet to pieces, willingly got cut almost in two, nearly bled to death, was tied up by his own crew and then captured by the Arlong pirates, still singlehandedly escaped and came back to join the fight and defeated one of Arlong's best fighters, then nearly bled to death again and woke up just in time to drink himself silly at the afterparty. I've heard people say they "match each other's freak" and that's the truth. Sanji watches this absolute wackadoodle of a man and knows he's found someone who matches his freak. From Zoro's point of view, some cook at a floating restaurant just fed all of their enemies out of principle before kicking their butts. How could he not respect that sort of unconditional adherence to a sense of honor and justice? Especially considering he himself experienced starvation not too long ago in Shells Town. Now this cook, the newest stray in Luffy's collection, immediately proves himself to be immensely capable both in the kitchen and on the battlefield, incurs injury to himself without complaint to protect these people he barely knows, and still is the only person to come sit by Zoro and check up on him. So Zoro knows that Sanji has a heart of pure gold, and I think that's a big part of why he gets frustrated when Sanji tries to cover it up with bravado and perviness.

This scene was really interesting to me because usually when someone demands that Zoro does something, he grouches and grumbles about it, so in this case it seems he just spontaneously started helping out himself. And if there was ever a man whose love language is acts of service, it's Roronoa Zoro. He seems to be more of a "companionable silence" kind of guy, while Sanji's a talker and will say anything to keep feeling connected. Now, I don't know if this is just a me thing, but I like to say my friends' names a lot, even just because the association with them brings me joy, but I rarely use the names of people I'm not close with except to refer to them in third person or to get their attention. In this scene, it seems to me that Sanji keeps repeating Zoro's name as a way to show he's thinking about him and appreciates him being there, though I might just be projecting.

Now, I know shippers go crazy over this one, but I think it's honestly really solid platonic evidence and I'll tell you why (not to dissuade shipping, I think you have to be friends before you can be more than friends so all of this can be fuel for the ship too if you want it to be). Firstly, they're comfortable enough to sleep this close together. Sanji's resting his sleepy head right on Zoro's shoulder (it should have been me, not him) and Zoro just lets him. Also note real quick, only a short distance away Luffy is using Usopp as a pillow, so they're all a cuddly cozy little family. When Zoro notices Sanji mistakenly trying to kiss him, he doesn't even move away, he just makes a face and waits for Sanji to wake up so he can make fun of him. Sanji, for his part, doesn't act embarrassed or disgusted that it turned out to be Zoro there, only playfully mad about his expression. They squabble for a few moments before Luffy pushes past them and they turn their attention to the next thing, argument forgotten, proving that neither was actually angry about anything and they were merely enjoying the opportunity to bicker.

This is from the hunting competition in Little Garden that I mentioned before. I just wanted to point out that both of them are grinning and clearly having a grand time.

(I love how Sanji's hands are just massive sometimes.) They have the entire forest clearing, and Sanji chooses to sit his little booty down right next to Zoro and toss his food at him. They're just like those kids in elementary who had beef over who has a more impressive Pokémon collection and would always sit next to each other at lunch to compare cards and play together at recess but claim they're archnemeses. And for as much as Sanji implied to Usopp (though oblivious) that the heart shaped vegetables were just for the ladies, he did choose to make it and serve it to the whole crew. Speaking of the ladies, Sanji is always adamant about protecting them, but he was perfectly fine with leaving Nami and Robin in Zoro's care, just as Zoro trusted Sanji to take care of Luffy and Usopp.

I also loved how Sanji packed Zoro a cute little lunchbox for exploring and he was NOT going to let no stupid south bird take it from him.

Alright that's all for today folks I gotta wake up in like 5 hours for work lol

Continuation from this post

#one piece #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #zosan #mine

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cece693 · 25 days ago

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Kiss, Marry, Kill

pairing: jasper hale x male reader tags: human reader, jasper being hurt over small things, Emmett being his joking self, party games, crack fic?

Streamers of gold and cream swirled from the high ceiling of the Cullens’ mansion, and the soft glow of fairy lights made everything look like a magical dreamland—well, at least to your human friends, who couldn’t stop gawking at the place. For you, it was home away from home. After all, you spent so much time here with Jasper that the polished floors and glittering chandeliers had become more familiar than your own dorm room.

Still, tonight felt different. It was your birthday—the last you’d celebrate with a beating heart. Next year, you’d be fully immortal, forever attached to Jasper’s side. But first, you had a party to survive.

You had just finished eating a perfect slice of birthday cake (courtesy of Esme’s unwavering drive to make it tasty for even someone who despised cake) when Jessica's voice boomed across the music:

“Birthday boy! Get over here! We need you!”

Her tone made you freeze. You recognized that brand of enthusiasm. It usually meant trouble or embarrassing party games. With a resigned sigh, you left the comfort of the food table and found Jessica huddled in the living room with Angela, Mike, and a handful of other curious onlookers.

“We’re playing Kiss, Marry, Kill,” Jessica announced, flipping her hair as if she was unveiling some grand plan. “And you’re up first!”

Your stomach sank like a stone in a lake. An array of wide, excited eyes turned your way, including Mike’s—who offered a sheepish wave. You prayed to whatever powers exist that Jasper wasn’t within earshot. “C’mon, Jess,” you said, forcing a laugh. “Don’t you think I’m too old for this?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You’re twenty-one, not eighty-one! Besides, Emmett is all fired up just hearing about it.”

You heard a low chuckle from across the room. Emmett, leaning casually by the DVD shelf, flexed his biceps with a wink. Rosalie smacked his arm in mock annoyance. Great—there went your hopes of keeping this discreet.

“Alright, fine,” you relented, your cheeks heating. “Let’s get this over with.”

Jessica cleared her throat dramatically and raised a tiny notebook where she’d jotted down names. “So, Kiss, Marry, Kill…” She paused, letting the suspense build. “Mike, Emmett, and Tyler!”

You snorted. Of course she’d drag Emmett in. And Tyler? The guy who you briefly had a fling with before getting with Jasper? Oh boy, now you desperately hoped Jasper wasn't even in the house.

“Okay,” you began slowly. “Let me, uh…weigh my options…”

Immediately you thought of killing Tyler. No way would you announce you'll hypothetically kiss or marry him, it was tough enough to break your friends-with-benefits relationship. You didn't want to give him false hope when that ship has sailed. Mike was potentially clingy, might send you heart-shaped candies on Valentine’s Day with bad puns, but he was overall harmless. And Emmett, there would never be a boring day in your life, it was Rosalie you were worried about. She'll definitely kill you if you even dared to steal him away.

As these thoughts zipped through your mind, you realized the circle of friends was waiting with bated breath. “Alright,” you said, “if I have to choose, I'll kiss Mike…”you said, pointing lamely in his direction.

You heard him choke on a soft, “Really?”

Rolling your eyes, you glanced at Emmett, who was now wagging his eyebrows. "I'll marry Emmett. He’s entertaining, funny, strong, and got a great sense of humor..." you rattled off, trying not to laugh as Emmett bounced in his spot like a child. “You hear that, Rosie? I’m marriage material!” Rosalie simply rolled her eyes.

"And I'll kill Tyler. No offense man, but you did almost take out Bella with that van years ago, so maybe it's karmic justice. Rest in peace.”

While your friends erupted into laughter, especially at the idea of your 'marriage' with Emmett, you maneuvered your way through the crowd, itching to find Jasper. While it was merely a game, you knew it would rub your cowboy the wrong way to hear you'll marry his brother. Looking everywhere for him—his room, the kitchen, the living room, hell, even the bathroom—you had just returned to the kitchen where Edward suddenly flashed in front of you.

“Jeez, Edward!” you exclaimed, pressing a hand to your chest. “I'm still human, remember?"

He just shrugged with a knowing smile. “He’s in Carlisle’s study. I’d go talk to him if I were you.”

His expression told you everything you needed to know—Jasper was not in a good mood. With a nod, you headed toward the study, ducking under a few gold streamers.

You found Jasper sitting at Carlisle’s desk, arms folded, staring intently at the wall. His blond hair fell into his face, casting shadows across his darkening eyes. The moment you stepped in, he flicked his eyes up, then away, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to see you or avoid you.

“Jazz?” you said softly, closing the door behind you. “Want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

His expression darkened as he let out a humorless laugh. “Don’t act like you don’t know. I heard everything. You’re apparently planning to marry Emmett now.” Though the jealousy stung your heart, his wording was so ridiculous you almost snorted. But one look at his face told you laughter would not help.

“It was a joke, Jazz. You know that.”

His Southern drawl grew sharper. “A joke, sure, but it sounded pretty convincing. You did have reasons lined up for why Emmett would be such a great husband.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re serious right now?”

He held your gaze, frustration and hurt swirling in those golden irises. “If you wanna go marry him, go ahead,” he said bitterly. “It’s your birthday; maybe that’ll be my gift to you—freedom from me.” You took a breath, forcing yourself not to snap back. He was centuries old, but that didn’t stop him from occasionally having the emotional meltdown of a teenager.

“Jasper, you know I love you,” you said, voice cracking slightly. “The only reason I said I’d marry Emmett is because Tyler and Mike are the other two options. And I definitely wasn’t going to marry them.”

He ran a hand through his honey-blond hair, exasperation evident. “Still. Hearing you talk about Emmett like that…it wasn’t pleasant.”

“I’m sorry, but in the game, someone had to be Marry. And I—”

A loud creak announced a third party: Emmett barged in, wearing the dopiest grin. “Hey, fiancé!” he crowed, waggling his eyebrows.

Jasper’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Emmett, I’m really not in the mood.”

Emmett tossed his hands up. “Okay, big guy, cool it. I just wanted to see if the wedding was still on or if I should start ripping up the invitations.”

You blushed furiously. “Emmett, get out!”

He laughed but obeyed, tossing a mock salute as he backed out, calling down the hallway, “Hey, Rosalie, we’re canceled… I mean, no, I’m not actually…It was a joke—don’t give me that look!”

When Emmett finally left, the door clicked shut, leaving you and Jasper alone again. You watched him quietly for a moment, noticing how his shoulders slumped with residual tension. “I’m sorry,” you repeated, stepping closer. “You mean everything to me—this game was Jessica’s silly idea, and I just got roped in. I swear, I never would’ve said it if I knew it’d hurt you.”

His jaw worked, and you could see he was trying to contain the waves of jealousy. You placed a tentative hand on his arm.

“I chose Emmett mostly for comedic effect, okay? Mike is…Mike, and I have history with Tyler. If I’d said I’d marry him, I’d be sleeping with one eye open. Emmett was the lesser evil.”

A flicker of amusement ghosted across his face—very brief. “So, you really don’t wish you had a ring from Emmett?”

You nearly laughed. “God, no. I’m sure Rosalie would kill me if I tried. And I only want your ring, anyway.”

He exhaled, some of the tension leaving his posture. Carefully, you slid your arms around his waist, feeling his cool body against yours. “You’re the one I want,” you insisted. “Always. Soon, we’ll be bonded forever—vampire to vampire. That’s bigger than a wedding.”

His eyes softened, and you could tell he was tuning into your sincerity—possibly even reading the waves of guilt and affection roiling off you. “I’m sorry I overreacted,” he said quietly, pressing his forehead to yours. “I just…don’t like the idea of sharing you.”

The door swung open again, this time revealing Alice, Bella, and Edward peeking inside—like a cluster of meddling siblings. “Are we good here?” Alice asked, twirling a piece of confetti between her fingers. “Because the party’s over, and I’m thinking of scheduling a no-more-dumb-games vow for the next birthday.”

Bella attempted a sympathetic smile. “We tried telling Jessica that it might not be the best idea.”

“Also, Emmett’s writing up a wedding registry,” Edward piped in, wry amusement in his tone. “You might want to stop him before he goes too far.”

Jasper let out a disgruntled sigh, rising from his seat. “I’ll put a stop to that.” You followed him out, hand in hand. The tension of the evening lingered in the air, but the weight was lifting, replaced by relief and some lingering embarrassment.

Back in the foyer, Emmett was dramatically dictating a registry list to Rosalie, who stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “Definitely want a waffle iron, and maybe a lifetime supply of hair gel for the big day—”

Jasper cleared his throat, and Emmett turned to see the two of you standing there. “Aww, the happy couple!” he teased, pressing his hands together.

“Emmett, enough,” Jasper hissed, though you could see the glint of amusement in his eyes.

Rosalie rolled her eyes and swatted Emmett with a leftover balloon. “You’re impossible.”

You let out a chuckle and caught Jasper’s eye. The corners of his lips lifted in a soft smile—an olive branch of sorts.

Alice, never one to miss a cue, fluttered over. “Now that the crisis is averted, how about we officially call it a night? There’s more cake on the table if you want it, but I doubt you do,” she teased, knowing full well none of the Cullens would partake.

“I might,” you joked. “Still human, remember?”

Jasper slid an arm around your waist, leaning down to press a cool kiss to your temple. “You might be human now,” he whispered, “but soon enough, we’ll have our forever.”

You smiled, heart full and light. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

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vhswolf · 2 months ago

Text

Three | Reader X Carlos Sainz X Rebecca Donaldson

really short, I just needed to deal with this idea before I combust, but it was made with love ❤️

English is not my first language

Warnings: online bs, haters

Face claim: Anne-Marie

Imrebeccad

Imrebeccad Weekend with mine truly 🤍

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Carlossainz55 Guapas!! Liked by the author ❤️

Ynishere The 😝 duo is here!

User2 The way she puts her bestie first is iconic

User6 bros before hoes!!!!!!

User9 can we talk about how y/n looks like Rebecca and Carlos emo daughter?

→ ynishere @/carlossainz55 @/imrebeccad they're calling you both old!

→ user9 I'M NOT

→ carlossainz55 @/ynishere you're too young!

→ ynishere I'M 5 YEARS YOUNGER THAN YOU THAT'S NOT MUCH

User14 Carlos comment tho 😐

ynishere

Ynishere Pretty women only 🙏🏼

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Imrebeccad I love you, pretty! ❤️😝

→ ynishere love you too, bella! 🧡😝

Carlossainz55 Hermosas de mi corazón Liked by the author & imrebeccad

User8 if I was Rebecca I would be screaming and crying with Carlos comments on yn's posts, like what does he mean BEAUTIFUL OF MY HEART? No, please kill me already

User3 literally a family

User22 the only place yn is not giving emo is the beach

→ ynishere Forgive me father for I have sin 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Landonorris Carlos in the back, thinking about how he managed to the girl

→ ynishere I also got the girl!

→ landonorris and the boy this comment was deleted by the author

Carlossainz55

Carlossainz55 Great company ❤️

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User44 nuh uh! This is weird as shit! If Carlos is not cheating, he definitely wants to!

imrebeccad My favourite company, my two favourite persons in the entire world!

User66 everyone is dressed so nice and yn is in a hoodie... How did Carlos choose to cheat on Rebecca WITH HER?

Ynishere Maybe I do look like the weird daughter...

→ imrebeccad don't fuel the daughter allegations!

→ carlossainz55 I'm not old enough to be your father, please, stop

→ ynishere you two are boring...

User56 ok Rebecca, love, she WANTS YOUR MAN!

Landonorris Lucky man

User86 100% not emo any more

Imrebeccad posted a story

ynishere

Thnks fr th Mmrs - Fall Out Boys

Ynishere Carlos real reaction to the first pic, like 100% real! No clickbait ❌

(got tired of high heels, never again)

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User76 I don't know who's more of a whore around here

User49 Since when this became a whore house?!

Imrebeccad Nice job with the censoring!

→ ynishere thank you!

User98 So Rebecca is the whore, but Carlos what in...

User44 the girl befriended Rebecca just to try to end her relationship, SUCH A BITCH

carlossainz55 caught in 4K as you might say

→ ynishere glad you know

The comments are now limited

Carlossainz55 and imrebeccad

Carlossainz55 I wasn't supposed to post this, so I'll deal with the consequences of this later, but I have something to tell you guys. I've been seen so many shitty comments on yn's posts, calling her all sort of names that doesn't describe her in the least! She is the most caring, loving, funny, energetic, talkative person I ever met. Everything Rebecca and I can say are good things, and see people that don't know her at all talking shit gives me a headache. Yn say she doesn't care because it is not true, but I know she cares, so I came here to straight things up, I'm not cheating on anyone, Rebecca neither, we're just three people that love each other, and will keep loving each other till death, you liking it or not. Please be respectful with the two girls that I love, they don't deserve all this bullshit.

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Ynishere I'm too punk rock, I can't cry!

→ imrebeccad she is in fact crying

Ynishere I love you two so much!!!

User4 oh

User66 didn't expect this one

Landonorris Is the Spanish accent, isn't it?

→ ynishere yes

→ imrebeccad it helps

Charlesleclerc FINALLY JESUS CHRIST

Scuderiaferarri PR will contact you soon they're currently crying and shipping the new throuple (can't blame them) and @/Williamsracing good luck next year

→ Williamsracing We're READY! Blue will suit you well @/ynishere

→ ynishere @/Williamsracing I love you already 💙

Imrebeccad my two true loves ❤️

Danielricciardo ok, why all the juicy stuff happens after I got out?

#carlos sainz x reader #rebecca donaldson #carlos sainz x reader x rebecca donaldson #f1 x reader #f1 social media au

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meanbossart · 11 months ago

Note

Because I love the idea of DU drow as a companion... how would you recruit him? Where do you find him, and what's his intro cutscene?

Hi, I've been thinking about this since I got this message :V

There's this nautiloid pod somewhere nearby the Owlbear cave right? So those things were just crashing all over the place, not just near the beach where the actual ship fell. I believe his pod could have had a similar fate and fallen somewhere off the beaten path.

Mind you that, In this scenario, waking up from the pod and onto the forest map would have been DU Drow's first-ever conscious minutes ever since having his mind wiped, so he truly has no fucking idea of what just happened - he just knows his head is in shambles and that he needs to survive for long enough for his memories to return, assuming they ever will. So, his immediate instinct would be to retreat away from where the people are.

I think underneath the bridge, where there's running water and some fauna/flora would be a good spot to find him. Players might take a day or two until they stumble across this weirdo companion and so they are more in the loop than he would be. You'd find a little blood-trail leading you down there, and eventually spot a fist's corpse with no shoes near the river - DU drow would be crouched down by the water washing blood off himself:

While the rest of the party may have been picked off random places as they went about their days, this guy was busy being dissected and put back together over and over again - and there's no way Kressa bothered to dress him back up fully before he was taken away from her (me allowing the man to have pants on at all is a mercy onto you all) so he begins with no armor, but to make up for that fact he's the only companion who begins with a great-sword, which he would have stolen from the fist.

When you approach he is perfectly calm, In fact, he doesn't seem all that there. He stands up and appears half-ready for a fight, but lets you speak first. You can either ask what he's doing here, or about the corpse. You get more or less the same answer to both:

If you successfully persuade him, he tells you with no particular tone of shame or remorse that you got him, he did kill him, however he claims he was attacked first. Whether you pry into his mind with the worm, or have a scroll of read-thoughts, you get the same narration:

"Behind the aloof facade, you find the drow's mind to be in a concerning state of disarray: dozens of thoughts racing, jumbled, all at once, each trailing into the next before you can catch a hint of substance. You don't find the answers you were looking for, just red goo."

You CAN however use speak to the dead on the corpse. If you do that, it's revealed that he is actually telling the truth; The fist found him and assumed him to be with the drow who raided Wakeen's rest. Otherwise, you have to either take his word for it, attack him, or leave him.

He will refuse your offers to join you/go to your camp until you reveal to him that you have been tadpoled - either through using the Illithid-worm option, or telling him upfront through normal dialogue. If you didn't peer into his head earlier, you will now, confirming to yourself and him that he's also been infected. Then, you can tell him you're looking for a cure, and he will agree to travel along. This gets you approval from Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion, and disapproval from Lae'zel, Wyll, and Gale.

If you attack, he's as easy a fight as any companion would be at that point. If you choose to leave him be/not tell him about your worm so he refuses to join, he will appear at your camp after two long rests, basically forcing himself to into your party unless you kill him. You find him hanging out around Withers and he tells you he's decided to travel with you from now on, and that he will make himself comfortable.

If you ask for his name, he tells you to just call him whatever you want to (cue like 5 joke dialogue answers - he responds to all of them with a snort and you get approval if you pick any flattering ones). Whatever you ask about him gets you a very blunt, vague response. If you have Shadowheart in your party/are playing as her, she implies he may be suffering from memory loss, finally prompting him to admit to it. Otherwise he only reveals this after a couple more long-rests.

#this was fun thank you LOL #I love thinking about his store in terms of actual game mechanics.#ask #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #companion DU drow

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 4 months ago

Note

HiHIHI HOPE YOU'RE HAVING A GOOD DAY JUST WANTED TO SAY I LOVE YOUR WORKS

I just binge read every single one of your Boothill fics and they all got me kicking my feet and everything!! I love how you write him and Ore is so cute I could actually explode 💥💥💥

Take your time or you can choose to ignore but can I have a request of Ore going missing (it's very small if I recall, so I kinda imagine it getting stuck under the couch or something) and just Boothill helping to look for it? TYSM IF YOU DO!

thank you so much for reading and enjoying my content!! I honestly dont know if i'll ever be able to write a boothill fic without making the reader some sort of mechanic. i may just stop breathing if i try- you can pry mechanic reader out of my cold dead hands

[1k w.count]

but just imagine, boothill isn't even on planet. he's off somewhere else when his phone starts pinging like nuts. back to back messages and before his text-to-voice can kick in, it starts blaring with phone calls.

"dadgummit..! who in the-" boothill huffs and puff as he fishes his phone from the space beside him where he had left it charging. his irritation all but simmered down when he saw your contact name flash across his screen.

...sugar is calling...

one his brows quirk up and he almost frowns at the incoming call. the hell is this? you never call him. like ever. you dont really call anyone really- more of a messaging kindof person. not to say he wasn't thrilled to hear from you though.

"is blowin' up my phone a new hobby of yours or somethin'?" boothill doesn't bother with a hello when he answers. neither do you.

"i can't find it!" you screech into the receiver. the feedback from the call's inital pick up and your yelling has the cowboy pulling his phone from his ear with a wince. beside the feedback shot into his eardrum, the sound of something metal being... knocked over...? also enters his head.

"sugar, you know i aint got a clue what you're talkin' about. i'm not in your star system right now," boothill tries to reason. you sound pretty distressed all things considered. so, he should at least hear you out. if all else, he can turn this ship around and speed it back to you.

he hears you whine; a whine that soon escalates into a full-on frustrated groan. oh. you were definitely upset about something. the only other times he's heard you like this is when a project isn't working out at any angle at all and you're one step away from throwing it out the window.

"it's ore." your voice is muffled behind your hand as you speak. "i lost it." you sound so pitiful as you confess your shame in losing the small robot companion boothill had brought back for you a while ago now. "i took my eyes off it for two seconds- and it was just... gone!" ore was so small; it should be common knowledge that the robot can hide just about anywhere it can squeeze itself into- but it usually trails around after you like a lost puppy! so, you've gotten sloppy at keeping an eye on it.

"you're blowin' up my phone because you lost track of your lil' assistant robot?" on one hand, boothill feels a little flattered that you feel like you can call him for stuff like this. the stuff that isn't really life threatening or to only deliver horribly, dire news. just something that's more or less inconvenient. on the other? he's almost annoyed because what if he was in the middle of a bounty? he isn't... but what if.

eh, whatever, he wouldn't be mad even if that were the case.

"look," boothill swallows back a chuckle and forces out a sigh, "i'm sure it ain't far. lil' guy never wanders off too far from you. just sit tight and it'll right back come to you."

"but what if it doesn't? what if ore's like lost-lost. like super lost? i can't just-"

"sugar," boothill interrupts you. "remind me again who programmed it?"

theres a beat of silence. "me."

"uh-huh, that's right. and didn't that very same you also program him with the maps of locations you frequent, like your shop?"

"i did."

"and why's that, sugar?" boothill has taken to plopping himself down in one of the chairs in his ship. luckily the spacecraft has an auto-pilot function as well as a cruise function when he was preoccupied- like now- or when he wasn't on an active job. there's a smirk on his face. he wonders if you can hear it through your slight panic.

"so that if it got lost... it'd know the way back."

"bingo," boothill snaps his free fingers together. "so, just calm down."

the phone call lasts not too much longer. a few more worried words from you, as well as a slight pout that you had lost what he had given you which almost made his systems overheat. with a few more reassurances that ore would make its way back to your loving palms sooner than you'd think, the call ends.

the galaxy ranger laughs when he finally see's just how many messages you spammed him with before deciding to just call him. there was wayyy too many. he wishes he was more tech-smart so he could screenshot the damage and send it to you as a tease.

still, despite the absurdity of it all, boothill was glad you called. even though you were frantic, he was happy to hear your voice. then he huffs and deflates in his chair, knees spread apart and back slouched low against the back. if he still had human bones, his spine would surley disapprove of such a position.

now he just misses you. dammit.

two system hours later, his phone pings. another message from you with a picture attatched.

[sugar]: he crawled up under the workshop sofa and got stuck in a spring. i finally heard him beeping after i stopped tossing things around [image attached] [sugar]: might install a tracking program

boothill chuckles softly as he looks at the photo of you. soot and oil splotch on your nose and cheeks from whatever you were tinkering with that day. your googles were around your neck and he was glad to see you were still using them as you should be. on your shoulder was ore. hooked into its safety carabiner and using its little, metal arms to hug to your cheek. its digital expression was scrunched up with fake, pixeled tears.

damn. boothill really wishes he was more tech-savvy now. i mean come one! what kind of cyborg can be nearly all robot, know how to steer and command a spaceship and still not know how to change a phone's background!

next time he's by the express, he'll have to ask dan heng.

#alternatively: imagine if ore snuck onto boothills ship???#the way you'd be calling and yeLLING at him to bring it back unharmed or else #boothill #boothill hsr #honkai star rail #boothill x reader #boothill x y/n #boothill x you #boothill fluff #boothill scenarios #boothill headcanons #boothill honkai star rail #hsr boothill #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 4 months ago

Text

if gods exist, they made you perfect

cw. fem!reader, childhood friend au, ace novel spoilers (1st novel), pre-relationship, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, light mentions of child abuse (garp), brief loss in ace's ability to control his powers, reader receives a minor burn

pairing. portgas d. ace x black!fem!reader

synopsis. not everyone is going to reach for ace's hand but you always will.

notes. a very indulgent idea that has been living rent free in my head since i've had it and now it is your problem. cover comes from frederic edwin church's twilight in the wilderness (1860). blazing red skies and ace simply go hand in hand.

"The Five Elders are gonna have the biggest bitch fit to ever fit," with how Ace blinks up at you in surprise, he must have been really lost in his thoughts. You broaden your smile as you plop down right next to him. "I don't think anyone's ever turned down a Warlord position before. Can't wait to see how your bounty goes up this time."

Ace snorts lightly at your words, lips stretching into half a grin, "yeah, they are not going to like that."

"It definitely doesn't help you kicked that vice admiral's ass, either," you recall the events of your final moments in Sabaody. A definitive mixed bag of.

It was a beautiful country, that much is easy to say. Still it came with more than you were prepared to witness. It's only luck there hadn't happened to be any visiting Celestial Dragons coinciding with your temporary residency. Somehow you have the feeling that things would have surely been messier if their had been.

The stint with Vice Admiral Draw will be messy enough on its own.

"Garp's gonna be so mad when he finds out," Ace shudders at even your mention of his grandfather and you snicker. "What if he comes to Fishman Island for one of his grand lectures?"

"Don't even joke like that," the back of his orange hat thumps against the side of the Spadille with his groan of horror. "I can feel his Fists of Love right now."

You feel the phantom pain yourself. If you're both lucky, the semi-retired marine is busy visiting Luffy on Dawn Island. Maybe it's not that lucky though. It isn't the first time the thought the man is even harsher on Luffy now that Ace has gone ahead and sworn his life to piracy surfaces. It's a thought you push away as quickly as you have it.

Luffy's a strong kid, he's fine.

He has a spirit that is unbreakable.

"That Draw guy deserved to get his ass beat anyway." There is no disagreement to be had with your statement, Ace murmuring something similar. He's a million miles away from where you are, however, miraculously sat on a ship sailing beneath the waves. "Isuka'll be fine," you say suddenly, cursing your inability to ease into the topic gently. "She's strong and she was on our ass since immediately after we got to the Grand Line. She'll be back to chasing us soon enough."

Hopefully.

It isn't something you can say with resolute faith.

The ensign's sense of reality itself had been shattered in its entirety. Being betrayed by the one you believed to be your savior is nothing easy to overcome. You choose to believe a woman as impassioned as the naval officer will. You won't pretend to know where she'll head next.

Perhaps she'll embark on a path that leads her back to the marines. Or maybe she'll become a bounty hunter.

Wherever her journey takes her, you can only hope it is a path with no regrets.

"It would have been weird having a bounty hunter on the ship, anyway," you clumsily attempt to soothe your friend. There is irony in how Ace became your better in terms of comforting those around you when he had been the most argumentative and unfriendly between you. "That sounds like something Luffy would do."

At the sound of Luffy's name, Ace's lips do quirk into something more real. "Yeah, that kid would invite just about anyone on his crew, bounty hunters included."

You chuckle trying to visualize what the young boy's recruitment process will be. Somehow, you doubt his prospective crewmates will have much say in the matter. "Knowing Luffy, they'll probably want to join anyway though. He's convincing like that."

"Yeah," Ace only falls deeper into his thoughts. The silence that follows is even more glum than the depths. Damn it, you curse yourself.

You've never been like Makino, you recall the kind-hearted woman from your youth. She's always been gentle, dove-like in her approach when it came to matters of the heart. Knew exactly the words someone needed to hear and knew exactly how to say it in a way that didn't feel intrusive to the recipient.

That has certainly never been you. If anything, you're more akin to Dadan and her rough expressions of affection.

You hold back a sigh, closing your eyes.

"Alright, I guess this is how we're doing this," you open your eyes at last. Shuffling, you face your friend who makes a sound of surprise at your movement. You aren't a delicate person nor are you someone with the ability to handle matters of the heart with the delicacy it deserves. It's best to handle it clumsily, the only way you know how. "Ace, the stuff with Isuka; that wasn't your fault. And it isn't on you that she didn't want to come with us."

Isuka liked Ace.

It's impossible not to like him.

Even when he was a brat with more anger at the world than he knew what to do with, you liked him. Thought he was the coolest person you'd ever met in your short 10 years of living and wanted him to like you back. You like him even now.

Everyone in the crew joined because they liked Ace the moment they met him. He's darling in how effortless he makes it.

Even a marine as firm in her beliefs as Isuka couldn't let prejudice cloud her judgement when it came to Portgas D. Ace. Begrudging as it may have been, there has always been a mutual admiration for each other in spite of the opposing occupations.

You're like the sun. Equal parts the harsh rays of summer and the gentle beams of early spring. He's whichever the moment calls for. A warmth everyone wants to experience if they're lucky enough to come across it. The gravitational pull of the universe that keeps the planets in the sun's orbit. You're amazing!

"I don't know what the hell that girl needs," rough as the sentence is, your voice is soft. "But whatever it is, she wasn't going to find it with us. That's why she didn't come."

Ace opens his mouth but you don't give him the chance to argue or sweep your concerns away.

"I'm not gonna sit here and lie to your face and say that this won't happen again," it's an ugly truth. One Ace became aware of long before you met him. Regardless, as much as you hate it, you know it'd be unfair to lie to him. "Because it probably will. There's always going to be people who, no matter how hard you reach for them, they aren't going to reach back. And you can't do jack about it.

Hell, sometimes you can't even do jill. But," Ace's brow furrows in time with your words and your heart wrenches. "But," you start once more, the back of your fingers brushing against his wrist. "for every person that won't, there's going to be someone that does." You cup one of Ace's hands in both of yours with all the care one would give glass.

When did these hands get so much bigger than your own?

Still, you lips curl upwards in your nostalgia, the warmth that radiates from him remains the same. You squeeze gently, almost afraid that if you touch him too hard, he'll break.

"And I know for a fact there are a lot of people who are always going to want to hold your hands. Even if the shit does turn into fire," you chuckle at your quick addendum and despite himself, Ace does too. You've always loved hearing him laugh, it's even better when you're the cause. "The crew. Dadan. Magra. Dogra. Luffy," you squeeze again, your thumb carressing the back of his hand. "Me. We love these hands, they're yours."

There's a spark of something in Ace's eyes you can't quite place and it's unexpectedly hard to look him in the eye for some reason. "Heh," you laugh breathlessly. Without meaning to, your grip tightens around his hand. It's warm.

Really warm.

Shit, it's actually getting kinda hot ain't it?

You see the flicker of orange and your and Ace's expressions are well-matched in panic as you realize the source. Sure enough, your hands were engulfed flames.

"Shit-" Ace swears but despite instinct dictating you back away from the flames, you find yourself holding on to staunchly.

"Shit-" you fight against Ace's attempt to pull away from you as the flames die down. "[First]! Let go!"

"No way, what did I just say?!" Oh god this hurts like hell! "I don't care if it's fire, I'm not letting go!"

You hiss through your teeth, reeling yourself in with a breath but the flames are extinguished as quickly as they erupted. "Wasn't exactly expecting to prove my point so fast but," there's another attempt on Ace's part to pull away from you again but you only hold his hand tighter. You can ignore the sting of your hands but you can't ignore the way Ace's eyebrows knit together. You can't ignore how he looks like he wants to cry either. "See," you laugh breathlessly. "I love these hands, there's no way I'm never gonna hold them.

Dark eyes, wide, look between you and your face and you squeeze his hand again. The sting of your palms is prevalent but this pain is fine. Pain is merely proof that you are alive in this moment; and in this moment there is nowhere else you want to be.

There's nothing more that needs to be said between you, you believe. Facing him, you lean against the wood as you hold Ace's hand firmly between your own. With the hand he has available, Ace slides his hat down to hide whatever expression he's making.

You close your eyes with a sigh and pretend you don't hear the sound of hiccuping. You don't feel the way his hand trembles either.

You squeeze Ace's hand and he squeezes back.

Your hands sting something sweet.

#look she's writing #one piece x reader #op x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace #look it's self shipping hours #flaming pearls #sea otters #flaming pearls (sea otters)#x black!reader #ace x black!reader

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icarusredwings · 1 month ago

Text

Ride

Sabretooth x feline mutant reader

You can choose whichever type of feline. Non gendered, your choice on how to interpret.

1/2

Victor wants Cubs. Even if you can't biologically have any.

Cw: NSFW, Licking, CNC, breeding kink, oral fixation, fingering, riding, public sex(? On the mansion floor), Voyeurism (kinda) , implied trafficked/rescued reader, Victor is a big softy, scratching, a little too rough, cat behaviors, Hand holding (🤯)

Everything is great here, is a thought that crosses his mind quite often for the past few months. Dearest has even started allowing him in the bed now that Darling doesn't live here anymore. Not fully anyway, sometimes when he visits, Dearest and him argue, only to end up kissing and then Erik leaves, frustrated. It makes Dearest sad. Victor can smell it.

He's tried interfering, but he doesn't understand most times enough to try to decipher the issue. Either that or he got bored and took a nap.

"Snuggles! Where are you my big tiger?"

It was Dearest calling from the door, an unusual scent coming in with him.

With a hum, Victor rolls over, with the shake of his head he yawns, stretching. Naps here couldn't be more perfect.

"Oooh biiiiig stretch." His master says, stepping forwards to him with something- well... someone.. on a leash.

Out of instinct, he puffs up, Growling lowly at them.

"Hey- None of that now. This here is your new friend. I want you to behave and treat them accordingly. They're a good kitty, oh yes they are." Dearest says, reaching down to scratch your chin as you let out a joyful purr, ears perking forward.

He settles a bit, A sickly sweet smell coming from you, the kind that would drive a man crazy if they didn't have enough impulse. His nose twitches some as it sniffed, assessing your value to Dearest.

Tilting his head, he takes a step closer, only for you to come closer first, putting your nose close to his with a sway of your tail, also a little fluffed up.

You think it's cute how he takes two steps back and then puffs his chest. Still, you scare him though because he hisses at you. Immediately you hiss back, growling, only for Dearest to pull you away. "Now now, that's enough out of you two. I don't wanna hear any more hissing. Got it? Snugbug, you need to be a gentleman. You hear?" Crouching, he unclips your leash, taking it with him as the big orange cat in front of you nodded, but only slightly.

"You always do what your master tells you?" You ask him, letting him come close again, nose still twitching, starting to come around back, practically putting his nose into your behind. "No hello? My name is?"

Turning around you shift to sit down, tail curling around your body as it softly flicks. "You gonna answer me or not, kitty boy?"

He huffs a bit. "Dearest calls me Snuggles, but my name is Victor. And no.. Not all the time. Where did you come from? You smell like salt."

"Wow, way to woo somebody. And.. I suppose the same place he got you? Off a ship? In a cage? Picked out as a gift it seems.."

Victor laughs, again circling. You knew what he smelled. You know exactly what it was. I mean look at this guy, could you blame him? All big and muscular, a little belly on him to show the sufficient amount of prey, a big bed all to himself with dozens of toys, pillows and blankets.

It was clear. This cat's no stray tom.

"Ha! You think I came from a cage? How cute. No, cupcake, I came from the wild. Somewhere someone small and frail like you wouldn't even survive."

"Oh yeah? Don't look it." You look at his nest of comforts as he smirks.

"What? It's not my fault Dearest takes good care of me. And I bet he could take good care of you too. Maybe a couple cubs.." He purrs, coming around from behind you to whisper in your ear.

"I know you wanna. I can smell it. You filthy whore~" he mews.

Blushing, You look away, crossing your arms. "Wow, what kind of gentlemen are you? Didn't your master tell you to treat me nice? Mangy feral."

This seemed to only please him, rubbing his face against you before flopping onto his back, stretching out with a big yawn. "What? Like this? Fine by me, kitty cat, I love em when they run."

You roll your eyes, glancing only out of the sides of them as how well off he truly was. The scent gets stronger as he gently bats at your tail, attempting to initiate play. Or perhaps more.

"Well I'm not running anywhere." You mumble proudly putting your tail up as you trot over to the beds, beginning to sniff here, victor following like a puppy following a piece of meat.

The more you sniff, the more pleased he gets, purring loudly as you step onto the large bed, seeming to search around for something.

"I know you're lookin' for my fish bones in hopes there's meat scraps. I know you can smell it. But I promise Dearest is not like that. He feeds us quite well. And I could feed you quite well too."

"I can hunt my own food." You say, feeling a bit insulted that he even would assume otherwise.

"Hmm. Yeah right. I'd like to see that.." he mutters, taking a big lick of the crease, easily pushing aside the skin with the muscles of his thick tongue alone.

Gasping, you growl, "H-hey!" Your tail instinctively heads to the side, only making him purr again, smugly.

"I knew you wanted to. Bend over, babe." The big cat says, a paw coming up to your ass, pulling you back ever so slightly.

Your claws dig into the bed, looking back at him with your ears back, baring your teeth at him. "L-let go of me!" But your face is darker than before, the scent getting sweeter the more he's near you.

"Oooh, Come on, sugar. Let me make you my Queen~" the smirk is cocky, nails of the hand on you just barely running across your back, licking his lips as if eager to lick you clean.

Pouting, you glare, stating as if this were an absurd thing to say. "You can't call me Queen, I haven't had any kits, moron!"

"Not yet you haven't. That's why I said let me make you my Queen. You'll have my cubs and then you'll truly be a Queen. Mine. And we can raise our pack here. We can live safely and let the little rascals attack the runt."

Your eyes widen. "What?! What is wrong with you!? Why would I ever-"

There's some hissing as he takes his hand from you, sitting up all dignified as Darling can be seen dragging Logan across the floor, struggling with all the growls and swats.

"Come on! Charles said you need a bath! Aye! Waffles!! No scratching! Bad cat- man- thing!!" Darling scolded, presumingly trying to bring Logan to his doom. (The bath tub).

"He's runt. I won't let our cubs fight. I'd be a good alpha. And I'd take good care of you too."

He says, shifting to put their noses together again, a rumble coming out of his throat that sounded like a purr and a growl together.

Blushing more, you swallow, laying down, tucking your tail between your legs.

"Oh don't be scared, baby. I won't hurt cha. Not too much anyway." He coes, trying to pull you close again but you swat at him, gentle enough to still show respect but corrective enough to make a point that you weren't ready yet.

"H-how do I know you aren't lying?"

"Depends, what about." Victor comments, moving to lay beside you in the bed, beginning to lick at your ears, a sign of dominance and trying to show off that he would in fact be a good mate.

"Bout being my mate. What if I can't give you kits? Then you'll be mad at me. And what if you leave?" You close your eyes, letting him lick your face, feeling an intense case of safety wash over you. You whine, tightening your legs together. God you wanted it. But you were so used to being used. So used to guys like this saying they'd stay, and then leave.

"I guess if you don't take the first time, We'll just have to try twice as hard, huh~?" It's said in a teasing tone, the kind that makes you smile, burying your face into his fluffy mane.

"I don't know... all the guys i've dated have been dogs." You mutter, metaphorically.

Smirking, he brings a claw to your chin, lifting it up. "Meow." He purrs, deep from his chest.

It's at this moment you realize just how bright his eyes were, Deciding in this moment that you wanted to see them more. The darker your face gets seems to make him try to hold you more.

"You like em?" He asks, connecting your foreheads together with a toothy grin.

Swallowing, you nod. "..Do you like mine?"

Thinking for a moment, it was as if he was trying to put words together.

"Prettiest thangs i've ever saw."

Turning away, you roll your eyes, pushing his face away from yours with a giggle.

"You're just saying that..."

Shrugging, he lays on his back. "Yeah..."

Glancing at him you frown, worried he meant he only said it to try to get some tail.

"I ain't much good with words.. I rather show ya." He mutters, snaking an arm around your waist, tugging you against his chest with a smirk. Again you giggle, shaking your head softly, shoving your face up under his chin, embarrassed.

"You big oaf..."

The reflective gold plating of his collar with thick red double stitched nylon laying against your face. It makes you wonder if Dearest knew you couldn't have kits. It made you question why he was so eager to introduce you to Victor. Telling him to be a gentleman to you. Was he planning to sell your metaphorical cubs? He didn't seem like that kind of guy, especially how well loved and taken care of Victor was.

"Victor-"

"Mmmh~ I like when you say my name. Fuck, cant wait to make you scream it." The big cat purrs more, sniffing your head as his grip tightens, pleased to have you lay with him.

"H-heh.. what if.. what if your master wants to sell our kits?"

"What?? Dearest? Noo.. Darling, maybe, but I'll just eat him. I'd never let anyone take our cubs." He promises, taking a long lick up your cheek.

"Even if we have to go back to the forest. I'll make us a den. Ill hunt for you. Jimmy will probably help out with the cubs to. Get him his own mate. We can be one big pack. All of us." These words were recited as if he's thought about this for hours, as if this were a dream of his. To one day have a big pack and provide.

You grin, shifting to sit on his stomach, making his eyes widen, dilating with excitement.

"How big of a pack?" You ask, caressing his cheek as he purrs loudly, nuzzling your hand.

"Hmm." He starts thinking, his hands coming to your hips but you cut him off.

"Well.. wait.. what if.. what if I never have kits? Let's say.. hypothetically.. they fixed me before I was sold.. then what?"

"Fixed ya how sweetheart?" He asks, half lidded and staring at you with possibly the most adoration you've seen in a long time.

Swallowing, you move his hands off your waist, only for him to put them back, keeping his grip tighter.

"I-it means I can't have kits.... ever."

"Well then... I guess I'll just never stop trying then, huh? Whatta say about that?"

"I think six.. would be just right."

You say, giving a playful thinking face before smiling down at him, shifting your butt backwards to grind down his half erection, causing it to spring up.

His grip tightens more, nails digging into your skin. "Six?? As in.. an entire litter?"

"Will it make you mate with me 6 times?"

"Oh, sweetie.. Once were mates I'll fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

Your eyes widen, A grin so wide that all your teeth show, tail wagging, flickering back and forth before bapping him in the face with both palms, jumping out of the bed, running a couple feet away. “Gotta catch me first!”

“Aug- Hey! What happened to not runnin’ away!?” He rubs his nose a bit, rolling over.

“I thought you said you like when they run? So come catch me, Victor!” You say to him, making the mistake of trying to run away from him.

Within An instant he was right on your tail, the two of you chasing each other around the living room, pouncing and jumping, climbinging and scratching. Vic had even knocked over a priceless vase after you tried to slip under A table only for him to follow you- well. Attempted.

The wrestling that happened was all fun and games until you both were panting, growling, chirping, purring. You were so glad you found someone who could keep up, someone who would wrestle and rough house with you.

You liked it rough, for play, and sex.

Though sometimes he got too rough, eyes slitting with a large jump as he pounces from the back of the ripped up couch onto you, having A hearty and genuine laugh until you gasped.

“Ouch! Fowl play!” You say to him, snarling at him despite him hovering over you like he'd devour you any moment. You swat him back, scratching his cheek. He gives a flinch and a soft growl, licking the blood that dropped down as the wound healed.

“Woah. How did you…?”

Staring at with a crazed fangy smile, his eyes dilated again. “You little ones are always so frail. Wouldn't wanna hurt ya, but you're gonna get it now!” He roars, almost excited to have someone who dared hit him back. Even if by accident because of his prey drive.

His tongue licks the blood from your claw mark, softly kissing it once the blood was clean. He takes a deep whiff of the wound, purring. “You taste so good.”

Shoving his face away, you blush, Giving him an odd look. “And you're a weirdo! Now get off me!”

“Ah ah ah, frail. You said I got ta fuck ya 6 times if I caught ya. A deal is a deal. I caught you. Now spread. You've been teasing me with this for half an hour.” He growls, grabbing your waist and flipped you to your stomach.

“Hey! Easy with the manhandling!”

“Oh, trust me kitty, You're gonna be beggin’ for it once I'm done” The growl from deep In his throat vibrates his chest a way that makes you a little more terrified at the way he stared at you with grit teeth.

This is the moment you knew, you fucked up. You should have never ran from him.

You should have let him eat you out right there in the bed.

Though… It was never too late.

“Wait!” You say, pushing your legs together, putting your hands up to him with your claws out.

Rolling his eyes, he grumbles, leaning over to hover in front of your face. “I'm getting tired of waiting. You think those little thangs scare me?” He growls, purposely pushing his face against the nails, letting you scratch him.

“I think you picked the wrong home if you think you can scare me, Kit.” Oddly enough, it doesn't sound like a threat. If anything it sounds like a challenge. Almost encouraging you to try and fuck him up. Just Try. The idea seemed to interest him greatly.

“Oh, trust me, you'll regret that later.” You flash your fangs, bringing your foot up to run a claw down his side. He shivers a bit, smirking wider and kept you close. “But for now, Wouldn't you wanna do this where I want too?” You purr.

“Not really.” It's a statement that's flat, but honest.

“Victor!” You scold him, swatting at his chest.

“What?! Were not even allowed on the beds… Though…” He thinks, “There is a lot of beds. I'm sure we could ruin one..” It's said in tone of “Hopefully Dearest Won't miss it”

“How about.. Yours?” You purr, watching his eyes widen with excitement, Letting you slip out from under him and trot away, swaying your tail in the most teasing way you could possibly think of.

“Yeah, okay. Whatever you want, Frail.” He says, licking his teeth as he follows like a stray dog to a piece of ass. Which is exactly what this was, keeping up with your pace but just far enough back to watch your hips swing.

“You better get used to saying that.” You coe, Climbing into the bed, Deciding to sprawl out, arms above your head as you lay lazily.

For a moment, he only admires you, enjoying the image of you in his bed, ready for him to fuck you, but like I said- it's just a moment.

He was far too impatient not to climb in after you, pulling your legs up over his shoulders as you gasp in surprise.

“H-have you done this before?” You ask, but he's already working on you with that rough tongue of his. “Watch it! I-it's sensitive back there you know!” You warn, Hands already in his hair, fistfuls grabbing at whatever you could.

The licking Becomes slightly more gentle, carefully trying to soothe the muscles until they bend to his will. The sounds you make and how far your legs spread make him grin, pushing deeper, his nose pressing into the soaked sweet smelling skin.

“Ah fuck-” You say under your breath, putting your head back. He has to have done this before, the way he was licking you like he was starving. His hands come to your waist, nails gripping at them like someone would take away his feast. If you walked in right this second you would think a Lion had broken in and was sinking its claws into the fat behind of a delicious Zebra.

This is exactly what Darling saw, trying to find an escaped Waffles, who ran from him the moment the water was turned on in the bath.

His nose crinkles up into a sight of disgust. What the fuck was going on in his livingroom?

Fucking. That's what.

Whimpering, you take your arms from his neck, taking your legs off his shoulders, squeezing them closed again with an embarrassed and slightly ashamed blush.

Having his meal taken, Victor turns, Snarling with bared teeth and a loud hiss only to grab your abdomen, pulling you back to where you were with a quick jerk. Squealing, You gasp again, Mewling at the way he held your thighs up, burying his mane between them again.

With a repulsed groan, Darling quickly walks off, going up the steps two at a time. “Dear!? Did you get another cat?!” He asks, disappearing into the second story part of the mansion.

“W-what if he tells-”

Pulling off with a pop, he gives you a cocky grin, saliva connecting his canines. “Let him. Dearest told me to be a gentleman. And Darlings just mad he's wrapped around Dearest's finger so tight that he does everything he says. Poor fool.” He growls, Shoving his face back where it belonged.

Choking on your breath, You smile, giggling as your hand goes back to his hair, giving a good tug. “Don't speak so soon, you might just fall into the same category before you kn- Ooh Fuck!” You pull harder, now two hands grabbing at the blonde curls, the vibrating purr in his throat traveling up your spine.

“Shit-”

He gives you another long lick, spitting then sitting up, a thick line connecting for the first few seconds, breaking only when he licks his lips, staring proudly at his work, predatory.

“You sure have a potty mouth don'tcha?” He asks, savoring the taste of you on his tounge and the scent that encases you. It's making him drunk really, the way you shiver and preen whenever he barely touches you, how sweet you smell, as if every little inch of you was desperate for him. He once heard Dearest telling him a story about something called “Ambrosia wine” and wondered just for a second if that's what this felt like.

Something about the drink of gods. And he was more than okay with drinking you dry as long as this scent kept up.

Sitting up you wrap your arms around the big mane of his, kissing him and trying to pull him down on top of you. Kissing back, a hand comes to the back of your head, the other keeping him up right. The more you tug the more he chuckles into the kiss, finally pulling away with a laugh. “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

“What do you mean? You can't just lick me to death and then not fuck me. That's just down right dirty.” You whine, as he looks towards the stairs for a moment, gently pushing you away as he thought.

Glancing at his bed he thought it was a little flat. Maybe you'd like some more pillows and he knew where the good ones were.

“Stay here.” He mutters, only for you to grab his wrist, putting your hand in his, squeezing.

“You said you wouldn't leave after..” The kind of eyes you gave him made his eyes wanna glaze over and fuck you senseless, his chest getting hotter as he smiles. It's a gentlemanly smile, toothy, yes, but you could tell he was pleased at how badly you wanted him to stay and fuck you right now.

“Look, I ain't going anywhere. And I sure as hell am nowhere near done with you.” He even kisses your hand- well. He licks it but- same thing. “And besides. Itll be so hot to think about you playing with yourself waiting for me.”

You swallow a bit, unsure of what he meant by this until he shows you his hand, flashing his talons before retracting them. “They're still sharp, Even when small. And there ain't no sense in slicing up my mate. That's just stupid. Don'tcha think?”

Looking at the nails and how large his hands were. Blushing some, you look at him with hopeful eyes. “I-i could take it.”

He laughs the sort of way you do when a child says they can beat you up. Oh you were just too adorable, weren't you? Pulling you close, he nuzzles his face against yours, sighing.

“Oh Frail.. you're gonna make such a good mate. Sexy, fun, and funny. Now go on. Go fuck yourself on your fingers. Or a pillow if you'd like. I'll be back. Swear.”

“Two shakes of a lamb's tail?” You ask, shifting to settle back down in the bed, already diving your fingers between your legs, trying to replace the heat that his tongue once provided.

“I'll kill a lamb if that's what you want.” It's blunt, it's idiotic, but it's sweet. And you had a feeling this was going to be your entire relationship. Sweet with his words when he wanted. Salty every other time.

“What?” Your fingers stop at the thought, confused. “No, It's a….nevermind.”

“You sure?” He asks. “I know where to get one.”

“No, no…just- hurry up.” You say with a needy whine, already pushing an entire finger in, though- then again, that only added up to about half of one of his. So maybe it was a good thing he wouldn't let you fuck yourself with them.

And with that he's gone, running up the steps 3 at a time, like he was on a mission. Getting pillows for his mate, gettin pillows for my mate. It was kind of like a song in his head, so excited to finally have one. One that would stay here and Dearest would look at and go “Wow, Snuggles. What a fine mate you have there.” While he sat proudly next to you.

Muttering to himself in the hall, It started. “I gotta be a good mate. Not like my father. He was a terrible mate. No- I have to be better than that. I have to-” though he stops as he comes round Dearest's office.

Stopping in the doorway, he watches as the man writes something at his desk. Victor purrs and Dearest's head turns to smile at him.

“Hello. What are you up to?” He asks, only getting a “Puurrrrp” in response before scampering away.

Alright. Now which one of these pillows did he wanna destroy today? Sniffing at the rooms he pauses, backing up to see Logan stuffed under a bed, wet and scared.

“Darling is looking for you.” Victor says, teasing him.

“No help from you!” The wet Waffles growls, deepening himself to the wall.

“Sorry, Runt. If Dearest says it's bath time then you gotta get a bath.”

“Oh like when it was your turn and you scratched Darling so hard that even Chuck was upset with you?” It's said in the way ‘You're a fucking hypocrite’ is stated, through tightly grit teeth still spitting between them.

“Who's Chuck?” Victor asks, hopping onto the bed and grabbing about 3 pillows in his mouth, dragging them back down to the floor.

“The guy that feeds you, idiot… what are you doing?”

“Gettin nest stuff for my mate.” he says, much harder to understand through the pillows.

“What?? Nevermind…don't tell Darling I'm here.” Logan says the last bit quietly, truly behaving like a scaredy cat.

Spitting the pillows out, he tilts his head. “It's just water, little brother.” Might as well practice giving good advice if he was going to have kits soon right?

“And I can't swim..”

“It's a tub, not a lake. You just sit there and he puts that stinky shit on you and then you can get out. It's not like he's going to drown you. Dearest would kill him. And then I'd kill him.”

Putting the pillows back in his mouth, he starts to leave, thinking if he left you alone too long you wouldn't want to mate anymore.

Just as he was dragging them down the hall, Dearest called to him. “Snugbug, whatcha got there?”

Pausing to look at him, victor tried to meow through the feather in his mouth but it came out sounding all weird.

“Oh? Is that for your new friend?” He asks, stupidly. Of course it was for them. Patting his leg, Dearest called for him. “Pspsps. Here kitty. Come're.”

Looking at the steps, he could already hear your mews of desperation and the squelching of your fingers slamming into yourself. It made him twitch. He glances at Dearest too, not Wanting to seem disobedient but also wanted to come fuck you as fast as he possibly could.

“It'll only take a second.” He says, holding out something for him.

Dropping the pillows in the hall, He comes into the office, sitting at his feet as he rubs his back against his knee, purring and arching happily to be pet as he clips something onto his collar.

“There.” Dearest states, turning the collar around as Snuggles sat in front of him, a new red bow clipped to the front of the collar. Puffing his chest, Victor meows again and smirks.

“What a distinguished gentleman.” Dearest says, scratching his chin before patting him. “Run along now. Be nice to our guest.”

Just before Victor can leave to pick up his pillows, Erik comes around the corner, seemingly trying to find Waffles by the Metal of his collar only to trip over the lump of fluff in the middle of the hallway.

“Augh!! Damn cat! Dear!! That damn cat is trying to kill me!” He calls, like a tot throwing a fit.

Dearest only giggles, covering his mouth. “I don't think so, Darling.”

Erik groans as ‘Snuggles” takes the pillows, running down stairs before he could try to scold him.

He just hoped his mate would like his new collar…

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hungermakesmonsters · 5 days ago

Text

(It Is) What It Is

Chapter Two

Plot Summary : When Billy Russo realises that there is a certain class of wealthy clients who refuse to contract with Anvil because of his playboy reputation, he decides to alter their perception of him. You’re just a down on your luck PA, just trying to get by so when Billy offers to pay you to pretend to date him, you can’t refuse. But the last thing you expect is for Billy to pull you into his secret world of lust and debauchery.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing noteworthy on this chapter. There will be smutty themes throughout the story. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 5.5k

A/N : ... yeah, Billy is pretty clueless 😅

CHAPTER ONE

Master List

Chapter Two

It all felt like a fever dream and, by the end of it, you were left wondering just what the hell you’d agreed to.

The moment you’d accepted his offer, Mr Russo had switched into what you liked to call his planning mode, becoming hyper-focused on the task at hand, and everything that would be required to make his crazy scheme work. It felt like something straight out of a Nickelodeon show from the 90s, and you could only half keep up as he started making the arrangements.

You knew enough from experience that there was no stopping him once he started on something like this, and all you could do was stand and watch, hoping for the best.

By the time you finally managed to return to your desk, you knew that there was no way out of it and that it was far too late to change your mind.

Still, after his initial flurry of excitement, he got on with his day. To say you were relieved when he left for a meeting across town was something of an understatement - he’d be gone most of the day, leaving you with some time to wrap your head around what you were going to have to do.

But that feeling of relief was short-lived.

Not long after you’d returned from lunch the elevator doors slid open and a package was placed on your desk in front of you. While it wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary for Mr Russo to have more sensitive packages sent directly to his office, you quickly discovered that the package wasn’t for Mr Russo.

After some back and forth with the delivery guy, mostly confirming that it was your name on the box and that he wasn’t going to leave until you signed for it, you conceded defeat.

What happened next could only aptly be described as a staring competition with a cardboard box.

Despite it bearing your name, you didn’t want to open it just in case there was some mistake. So, you checked through your emails, making sure you hadn’t accidentally ordered something and had it shipped to the office, but there was nothing.

Then you picked up the box and gave it a gentle shake, trying to see if you could tell what it was that way.

Of course, you couldn’t.

Finally, you were left with no choice but to open it, and immediately found yourself confused by what you found.

It was a dress.

A chiffon dress in a gorgeous deep purple colour with a label that told you it was from a boutique in Brooklyn. And a quick google of that boutique’s website left you feeling queasy when you saw just how much they charged for similar dresses.

You only dared remove it from the box for a few seconds, long enough to ascertain that it was a halterneck, midi-length dress with a cinched waist in your size, and long enough to find the invoice.

The invoice solved one mystery but left you with several more unanswered questions.

Mr Russo had bought the dress.

He’d bought you a dress for your fake date, without even asking your opinion or preference.

(Not that it wasn’t gorgeous or something that you wouldn’t have picked yourself if you had that much money to throw away on a dress, but it was the principle of the matter.)

You carefully folded it up, making sure that it was safely wrapped in the bright pink tissue paper it had arrived in before lowering it back into the box and closing it up, grabbing some tape and resealing it. You couldn’t keep it - you had your own clothes and the last thing you needed was Billy Russo dressing you up like... like you were a doll, a plaything.

You’d tell him to send it back the moment he reappeared.

At least, that had been the plan. Over the next couple of hours, your annoyance was mostly pushed aside in favour of getting through the last of your work before the weekend, and when Mr Russo finally reappeared, you weren’t given much of an opportunity to raise your grievances.

He came bustling out the elevator, barely sparing you a look but immediately noticing the box on the floor beside your desk.

“Oh, good, it’s here,” he said, already halfway into his office before you could get to his feet.

Clearly his meeting hadn’t settled or slowed him down.

Normally, you stayed well out of his way when he got like that, when he started rushing around the place like a stressed headless chicken, but you needed to say something about the unwanted gift.

He was rummaging through his desk by the time you entered his office, clearly looking for something.

“The dress -” you started, trying to remain calm and polite.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Had to pull some strings to get it delivered today, but it’ll be worth it,” he said, barely looking at you as he pulled a bottle of scotch from his desk - one of the older ones by the look of it, one of three bottles he kept on hand for various occasions.

“But, I don’t -” you tried again.

“Do you need me to send a driver for you tonight?” He asked as he stepped away from his desk and started back towards the door. “I’d collect you myself but something’s just come up, so I’ll have to meet you at Bianchi’s.”

“Bianchi’s?”

As in one the most exclusive and expensive restaurants in New york? That Bianchi’s.

(He was taking you to the same restaurant Ethan Hawke had been photographed at only a month ago?)

“Yeah, on Madison?” He said as he moved to grab his coat from the coat rack outside his office door and started to pull it on. “The table is booked for seven, so if I send a car -”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll take a cab.”

“Okay, excellent, I’ll see you there at about six fifty-five.”

And, then, before you could even think to say another word, he was stepping back into the elevator, leaving you alone again.

Fuck.

He left you feeling worse than you had before, with more questions and worries to contend with.

Of course, it was impossible to get any work done after that; all you could think about was the dress and Bianchi’s, and how you had never before stopped to think about how you and Billy Russo lived in two very different worlds. How were you going to fit into his world for six months? How could you fake it for that long?

But, you also had time to remember why you were doing it and what you were going to get at the end of it all, and that would have to be enough to get you through it.

Besides, it was one fake date - you could keep the tags for the dress and he could take it back after you’d worn it. And, maybe it would all go terribly, maybe he’d realise how out of place you were in his world and he’d reconsider the whole silly idea. There were so many ways that things could play out and, as nervous as you were, some part of you couldn’t help but feel a little excited.

People like you didn’t get to eat at places like Bianchi’s, and you loved Italian food.

You snuck out ten minutes early and took a taxi home, knowing that you didn’t have much time to get ready and not wanting to carry such an expensive dress on the subway.

The moment you were through your front door, the panic set in.

First you found yourself rummaging through your wardrobe, desperate to find a pair of shoes that might work with the dress. You settled on a pair of strappy heels you wore to a wedding a few years ago, they pinched your feet but they were all you had. Then you threw yourself in the shower, struggled to do your hair, and finally did your make-up.

When you pulled the dress on, you didn’t know how to feel. It was beautiful but you didn’t feel beautiful wearing it. You stood in front of the mirror, turning this way and that, trying to pull your stomach in even further than your spanx already was, and smoothing the front of the dress down, hoping to find a way to conceal your obvious curves.

The dress would probably look amazing on one of the beautiful, leggy, thin women Billy usually surrounded himself with. You just looked like a poor imitation.

Deep breath, you told yourself. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t real.

Six months. That’s all it was.

Six months of playing pretend, of laughing at Mr Russo’s jokes, and convincing everyone that you were a loving, respectable couple.

You could do it.

(For your brother’s sake, you had to do it.)

He was already waiting when you arrived and quickly moved to greet you as you climbed out of the taxi. You felt your cheeks heat as he looked at you, and your stomach knotted uncomfortably; was the make-up too much? Did the cheap shoes you’d picked look terrible with the dress?

For a second you felt your usual, forced smile start to waver, but you managed to keep yourself from losing control of it, wanting to appear as calm and collected as possible.

Before you realised it was happening, he had your hand in his and he was slowly leading you towards the door, but he stopped just shy and looked at you again.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked.

It was as if he could sense your nerves and he was offering you one final chance to escape, and some part of you desperately wanted to take it.

“No, I just...” you started and trailed off, for a few seconds, “well, we didn’t exactly get any time to plan this out.”

You were going into the situation blind and you were sure what was expected of you or what you were supposed to do if anyone asked you any questions.

Hell, you hadn’t even been given the chance to make sure he understood that sex was entirely off the table. (Not that you really thought Billy was interested in anything like that from you.)

“I know,” Billy said with a sigh, “but we should be able to talk over dinner, I asked for one of the quieter tables in the back.” His hand gave yours a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, it’s just dinner. We just need to be seen together - everything else can come after. And, you should know that they do amazing tiramisu here.”

That had your smile warming and turning into something far more genuine.

“Tiramisu? Are you trying to make up for something, Mr Russo,” you joked, echoing his words from the day before.

He let out a laugh, seeming amused that you’d remembered.

“It’s Billy,” he said quietly, smiling at you in a way you weren’t sure you’d seen before. “You have to call me Billy from now on.”

“Oh, yes, Mr - I mean Billy.”

And that was going to take a lot of getting used to.

“Come on,” he said, finally reaching for the door and holding it open for you, “our table should be ready now.”

As you stepped into Bianchi’s, you found yourself trailing half a step behind Billy, immediately feeling out of place, like someone was going to ask you to leave and offer you directions to the nearest Burger King. But, with Billy in front of you, you were rendered almost invisible to the staff who all seemed to know him by name.

Still, you managed to keep a smile on your lips as you were slowly led towards the back of the restaurant to a candle lit table that, for reasons you didn’t want to think about, reminded you of that one scene from Lady and the Tramp.

Once you were both sitting at the table, you found yourself wanting to look anywhere but at Billy. It felt weird to look at him in the gentle flickering light of the candles, the soft glow adding a warmth and depth to his features and making his dark eyes seem all the darker. But you immediately regretted allowing your gaze to wander.

You noticed the looks from other diners straight away, though you told yourself that it was Billy they were not so subtly glancing at - he drew attention wherever he went and, well, he looked extra sharp tonight in his charcoal suit and light blue shirt.

Looking down, you wondered what you must look like sitting across from him. Ridiculous, probably.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice cutting through your spiralling thoughts.

“Yeah,” you answered automatically, forcing your gaze back to him, “yeah, just feeling a little out of place.”

Billy shot you a questioning look, but didn’t comment on it. Instead his eyes dropped to the menu in front of him.

“Do you prefer red or white?” He asked after a few seconds.

You stared at him blankly, before realising he was talking about wine. “Oh, white.”

Finally, your attention turned to the menu but found that you couldn’t focus on it. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that this wasn’t you; you didn’t get flustered over silly little things.

So what if people thought you didn’t belong there with him?

(It’s not real. It’s not real.)

By the time the waiter appeared, you still hadn’t decided what you wanted, so you decided to defer to his judgement and, if nothing else, it seemed to ingratiate you to the waiter.

“So,” Billy finally said, once your wine had been poured and the pair of you had been left alone to wait for your food. “What do you think?”

“It’s nice,” you answered, reaching for your glass and taking a slow sip, hoping to calm your nerves.

“Just nice?”

“It’s a restaurant, I can’t exactly make a judgement until I’ve actually tried the food,” you told him, managing to affect a playful enough tone. “The wine’s nice though.”

“I mean, is it nice enough that you think you’re going to be able to stomach six months of this?”

It was difficult to discern if he was talking about the restaurant or his own presence, so instead of answering straight away, you took another drink.

“Why? Is this what you do every night?” You asked jokingly, despite already knowing the answer.

More often than not, you were the one tasked with finding him reservations and responding to invitations on his behalf. Put kindly, Billy Russo had a very active social life, and that was exactly what you were supposed to be helping him change.

After a moment of silence you continued; “it’s fine. Just as long as you don’t expect me to be at your beck and call every single night.”

“What days are you available to be at my beck and call?” He asked, grinning at the ridiculousness of the question.

“Any day except Wednesdays and Sundays.”

You leaned forward a little, wanting to to seem to anyone who looked that you were having some intimate conversation and not planning out the finer details of your fake relationship.

“I’m usually busy on Thursday evenings,” Billy offered.

It was strange that neither of you asked what the other did, but Billy didn’t pry so you didn’t either. If it was ever something you needed to share with him, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

“I’ll check your schedule on Monday,” you offered, comforted at the thought of being able to slip back into your role as PA instead of fake date.

“There’s a charity event in a couple of weeks - there’s going to be representatives from VDK there, so I’ll need you for that.”

“Yes, Mr - yes, Billy.”

You feel your cheeks heat as the corner of his lip pulled upwards and, for a moment, he looked ready to make some awful joke, but before he could get the words out, he was interrupted.

“Ah! William!”

It was a loud, booming voice, and it caused your eyes to shoot upwards and towards the kitchen doors. There were two waiters, carrying what seemed to be yours and Billy’s food, and a large, grinning man dressed in chef’s clothes.

“Marco,” Billy said, getting to his feet and throwing an arm around the chef.

You remained seated, frozen, feeling utterly out of the loop and out of place in Billy’s world.

The two men started to talk while plates were placed down on the table in front of you - far more than you’d actually ordered but, from what you could gather from their conversation, the chef had prepared extra just for Billy.

You were left ignored until the waiters disappeared.

“William, you always bring the most beautiful women to my restaurant,” Marco said, moving to your side and taking your hand in his and pressing a light kiss to your knuckles.

Your cheeks instantly started to heat and you found yourself entirely lost for words.

Billy introduced you and you sat there silently, your stomach knotting as he referred to you as his girlfriend, earning a fond laugh from Marco. But, still, you kept a smile on your lips.

“You have exquisite taste,” Marco said.

The rest of their brief conversation became white noise as you fought against all the unsettling and uncomfortable thoughts that started to fill your head again. But it was hard not to feel a certain way, to not feel like everyone who knew him, everyone who saw you together, would be comparing you to the women who’d come before - the women he’d actually wanted.

It was a feeling you weren’t used to, a feeling you didn’t even understand. You blended into the background, you were a side character, you weren’t the love interest or the woman that people called pretty. You were just... you.

And, in a way, it made you angry. You hated that he was putting you in a position to be compared to the other women to begin with.

“Are you okay?” Billy asked as he finally sat back down.

“You've -” you hesitated, taking a moment to really consider whether you wanted to ask the question, “- brought other women here?”

“Of course,” Billy answered, oblivious to how that was making you feel.

You looked down at your plate and considered just leaving it at that, but you didn't want to. Six months of this would be unbearable. You needed to say something, if only to protect your own sanity. If you were going to do this, if you were going to help him, you couldn’t just let him carry on as normal.

“I'd suggest if you want people to believe that this,” you waved your hand in the empty space between you, “is real, then you shouldn't just treat me like one of your one night stands.”

He looked at you, completely confused, not sure what you were trying to get at.

“This is one of the most exclusive restaurants in New York -”

“Exactly, and I'm sure that fact is a real pantie-dropper, but that's not the message you need to convey if you want to sell this.”

“So, what? I'm supposed to take you to Pizza Hut?”

You rolled your eyes and resisted the urge to slump back in your seat. “If you want people to believe it, then it shouldn't matter where we are, just that we're enjoying each other’s company.”

Billy continued to stare at you blankly and you found yourself wondering if he'd ever had a real, meaningful relationship before.

“If you treat me like them, everyone is going to assume that I mean as much to you as they did,” you said, trying one last time.

“Why are you assuming that they meant nothing?”

He had you there. It wasn't a fair assumption to make, not really. All you knew about him and his life away from work was what you picked up through gossip that you only ever half paid attention to. Maybe they had meant something to him, maybe he wasn't the one always ending things. Maybe he was genuinely clueless.

“I'm sorry, you're right, I don't really know anything about you outside of work,” you conceded. “But that doesn't change the fact that you need to alter people's perception of you, and bringing someone like me to a restaurant like this isn't going to cut it.”

"Someone like you? What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, starting to sound exasperated.

For a moment you looked at him, betraying that awkward flicker of hurt that you felt for reasons you didn't entirely understand. Then you looked down at yourself, at the expensive dress he had chosen for you, paired with your own cheap heels and jewellery; you felt fucking ridiculous, like a kid playing dress up in one of your mother's dresses.

“I mean, I'm not the sort of woman you can put in a dress like this and bring to a place like this, Billy,” you said, only to earn an even more confused look from him. “Look at me, I - I clearly don't belong here, people are looking at me thinking I'm either after your money or I'm someone you need to fuck to get a contract.”

The irony of the second option wasn't lost on you.

“What?” He asked, still not getting it.

You sighed. “If you bring me to places you've brought other women, all anyone is going to do is compare me to them. They're going to want to know why you downgraded from runway models and wealthy heiresses to... to me.”

Billy's lips parted instantly, and you knew he was about to say the very first thing to come to mind, but then he surprised you by saying nothing. You weren't sure if his silent agreement made it better or worse — you didn't want him lying to you, trying to compare you to other women, but at the same time, his silence just seemed to confirm all your worst feelings about yourself.

“Okay,” he said finally, “how about, from now on, you decide where we go?”

There was something in his voice that you didn't want to think too hard about, an uncomfortable resignation. Billy Russo was a man who liked to be in control, a man who didn't like being told what to do but, in this situation, he was allowing himself to trust you.

You both started to eat, making little comments about the food and, every so often, you’d catch Billy looking at you, like he was trying to somehow figure you out. By the time you finished eating and dessert was on the way, you felt like you needed to break the silence.

“Do you like movies?” You asked.

“Depends,” Billy answered, confused by the sudden question. “Why?”

“There’s a horror movie festival in Queens in a couple of weeks, they’re going to be showing loads of the old classics...”

It was meant as a suggestion, an invitation, but it went right over Billy’s head.

“Oh,” was all he offered.

You sighed. “I meant we could go. Together. If you want...”

“Like a date?” He asked, and you nodded. “Isn’t that a little childish?”

For a moment you forced yourself to bite your tongue, offended on more levels that you could really hope to verbalise.

“I happen to like old horror movies, and if you want anyone to believe this is real -”

“Right,” he conceded. “Okay, fine, I guess we could do that.”

Then, again, you slipped back into that awkward silence through dessert.

Still, you kept smiling, all the while thinking about how it was going to be a really long six months.

Once the bill was paid and you were ready to leave, you found Billy taking your hand in his again, holding you a little tighter than he had before as he led you out of the restaurant and into the cold night air. You were about ready to pull away from him, to get yourself a taxi when his hand gave a gentle tug on yours.

You turned to face him, confused, and you found yourself getting lost in his dark eyes.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he muttered softly.

In the time it took for the words to register and for you to come to terms with the fact that he was the one saying them, Billy’s lips were on yours. It started softly, a testing peck before pulling back an inch or two, then it became something else entirely.

His arm slipped around your waist, pulling you against him. Your own arms ended up around him - though you couldn't rightly say if it was to pull him closer or to keep yourself from falling over. At some point your eyes drifted shut and you allowed him to part the seam of your lips with his tongue.

Fuck, if this is how he kisses, it's no wonder he's got so many women falling over themselves to be with him, you thought.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the treacherous organ knocking against your ribs with each desperate thump. You were pressed so close to him, you wondered if he could feel it. It stoked a fire in your belly, something you knew you shouldn't be feeling, that you couldn't stop or control. You almost dared to want more, for the kiss to become some wild and untameable thing.

When the kiss finally broke and your eyes fluttered open, you were greeted by the sight of his smile, and it did little to quell the awkward feeling of wanting that had started to grow inside you. His hand tenderly cupped your cheek and his thumb caressed your lower lip and - fuck, you had to wonder if he was deliberately trying to drive you insane.

Your breath hitched, and, for a moment - a really fucking stupid moment - you almost let yourself wonder if it had been real.

“That should sell it,” he muttered softly before pressing one more gentle kiss to your lips.

Right.

It wasn't real. It was all just an act. A really convincing act.

Still, he lingered, one hand pressed to the small of your back while the thumb of the other traced your lips.

“Right,” you said just as softly, unable to tear your eyes from his.

Neither of you moved for a second more until Billy finally pulled away and took your hand in his again.

Your heart continued to pound in your chest as he led you away from the restaurant and towards his car, not stopping to even ask or offer you a lift home, and you found yourself idly wondering if his driver had been sitting out there waiting the whole time you'd been eating. He sprang out of the car the moment he saw you and Billy approaching and quickly opened the door for you.

Billy held your hand, helping you into the car like a gentleman — and, honestly, you really couldn't get over seeing that side of him. Then he moved around to the other side of the car where the door was being held open for him.

You’d been in his car before, but never like this, never for anything other than work. (Though, you grimly had to concede that this was like work in a very fucked up way.)

You didn’t even have to give the driver your address; with one word from Billy you were on your way. As the car started to move, you found yourself looking out the window at the streets of New York, all the bright lights and bustle of people going about their evenings. It had been an overwhelming evening to say the least, so you barely even noticed when Billy took your hand in his again.

It was for the driver’s benefit, you assumed. Everyone was going to have to buy the fact that you were dating, including all the people you came across in your day to day lives. And it quickly occurred to you that you still hadn’t really discussed much of anything about the arrangement - you’d been so preoccupied with your own awkward feelings that you’d spent half of the meal in silence, instead of figuring things out.

“So,” Billy said - and you were really starting to hate the way that he did that, “what did you think of Bianchi’s?”

Your attention turned back to him, though you quickly found your gaze dropping to your hand in his.

“You were right,” you said, forcing your smile again, “the tiramisu was amazing.”

A laugh seemed to spill out of him unbidden and, for a moment, he looked as surprised by it as you were. It sounded so real, so genuine and, suddenly, you found yourself wondering something odd; was he just like you? Did he fake his way through the day in the hopes that it would make things easier for him?

Of course, you didn’t ask. It was far too personal and gave too much away, but it felt like, for the briefest of seconds, you’d finally seen something real, something you hadn’t even realised existed.

Your smile softened and you sank back in your seat, allowing your fingers to tighten around his just a fraction.

“What’s your favourite movie?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug, a little surprised that he was finally making an effort. “I guess it changes? I like a lot of movies.”

“Well, what’s your favourite right now?”

“Probably the first Omen movie?”

“Isn’t that movie older than I am?” Billy joked.

Strangely, it was the first time you’d even thought about his age - though, now that you had, it would no doubt add another weird level to the way you were thinking about your fake relationship.

“There are lots of movies that are older than you, Billy,” you said. “Besides, I like the classics.”

“I’ve never been called a classic before.”

The comment had you laughing unexpectedly and Billy quickly joined in. What a sight you must have looked to the poor driver, the pair of you giggling uncontrollably at such a terrible line.

“That’s awful,” you finally managed to say, awkwardly trying to wipe the tears from your eyes without smudging mascara all over your cheeks. “I didn’t know you made such terrible jokes.”

“I’m a man of hidden depths,” Billy answered.

“What about you? What’s your favourite movie?” You asked, wanting to keep the conversation going now you’d finally managed to escape from the awkwardness.

“I don’t know. I’ve always preferred reading.”

“Really?” You asked. You didn’t mean to sound shocked, but it wasn’t something you’d expected. “Well, what’s your favourite book then?”

“The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

“Huh.”

“Huh?” He repeated, almost laughing again. “What’s ‘huh’ mean?”

“Nothing, it’s just -” you felt your cheeks heating again, “- I don’t know, I just never pictured you enjoying something with such a downer ending?”

“You’ve read it?”

You nodded. “And I’ve seen at least two of the movie adaptations.”

“Okay, well, what’s your favourite book?”

“The Count of Monte Cristo,” you answered without hesitation.

“Huh,” Billy said, obviously fighting to keep a smile from his lips.

“What?” You asked, contending with a smile of your own.

“Oh, nothing...”

You opened your mouth, ready to demand an answer when the car came to a stop and you realised that you were outside your building.

Clearing your throat, you reluctantly pulled your hand away from Billy’s and watched as the driver rounded the car to let you out. You moved slowly, taking extra care not to snag the dress or do anything that might ruin it, still intent on returning it to Billy.

You didn’t notice Billy move as you got out of the car, but, by the time you were standing on the sidewalk, he was at your side. His hand found yours again and you shot him a confused look.

“I’ll walk you in,” he said. A statement, not a question or an offer.

“It’s fine, I -”

“It’s not fine. Your building doesn’t even have a doorman.”

If you didn’t know any better you might have thought he was worried, but the show was probably all for the driver. Still, you really didn’t want Billy to see your apartment.

“Most normal apartment buildings don’t, Billy,” you said, rolling your eyes before lowering your voice.” Besides, I don’t think anyone is watching.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m walking you in.”

And, with that, he started towards the door to your building, leaving you no choice but to fall into step beside him.

Once inside, there was no missing the way he looked around the place, judging it. Judging you. The only small mercy to be found in the situation was the fact that the elevator was working and not plastered in the usual Out of Order signs.

You tried to leave Billy at the elevator and, again, he refused. He followed you in, watching as you punched the button for the fourth floor. And, by that point, the situation seemed so surreal to you, that you didn't even think twice about the fact that your hand was still in his.

A/N : 😅 Poor Billy has no idea what women want. Don't worry, reader's not going to forget about the dress issue. I'm definitely going to have a lot of fun playing around with their dynamic while they slowly get to know each other. Also I genuinely didn't intend to end this chapter here, I planned a lot after but then this got really long 😅

I had a busy week so I didn't get much time to do much of the other stuff I wanted to do and get this chapter done on time so I'm still getting through my 500 follower celebration stuff (I think I've got 5 things left to finish?)

As always, thanks so much for reading! I really loved seeing all the comments on the first chapter!

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! Otherwise new chapters will be posted around 7:30pm GMT on Fridays.

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