#SHE STILL THINKS NONE OF THAT WAS A PROBLEM

[its-avalon-08]

Hi! Could you please write something where reader and Lando have been together for a while and the hate never got to her until she saw a comment about her using Lando’s money and Lando never had a problem with it. But reader starts using her own money but she doesn’t have a lot of it and one day she misses a call from the bank and Lando answers it and finds out her funds are low and he put it together. Happy needing though where Lando reassures her that he loves her using his money.

what's mine is yours (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - gold digger tweets, money problems, tears, fluff

Lando and Y/N had always had an easygoing relationship. From the moment they met, things just clicked. They’d been inseparable for years, growing through the ups and downs of the racing world together. She was his anchor, and he was her biggest supporter. Despite the scrutiny from the public eye, their relationship was grounded in mutual respect and understanding. Lando always made sure she felt cherished, often indulging her with gifts, fancy dinners, and trips—but none of that ever really mattered to Y/N. She loved Lando, not his lifestyle.

Still, there was always an undercurrent of judgment from certain corners of social media, as there often is for the partners of famous athletes. Y/N had long trained herself to tune out the negative noise. But today was different.

Sitting on the couch while Lando was out at a sponsorship event, she scrolled through Twitter. It had been a typical day, filled with photos of the two of them that fans had posted, some sweet comments and, as usual, some not-so-sweet ones. She should’ve stopped scrolling when she saw a thread discussing her. But instead, her eyes caught on one tweet.

@SpeedyPaddock: "Does Y/N ever spend a single dollar of her own? I swear all I see is Lando footing the bill. She’s just another gold digger… probably why Lando doesn’t mind either, right? He’s got the money to throw around."

Her heart sank. Y/N stared at the screen, feeling her chest tighten. She had never thought of it that way—sure, Lando loved spoiling her, and she’d accepted his generosity because it made him happy. But was she really taking advantage of him?

She shook her head, trying to clear the heaviness settling in her chest. No, Lando would never think that. Yet, the words echoed in her mind, twisting her perception. What if other people thought the same thing? What if they saw her as nothing more than someone who used Lando’s wealth to get by?

I can't do this anymore, she decided. She wasn’t going to be seen that way. From now on, she'd stop using any of Lando’s money. She wouldn’t tell him—it wasn’t his fault, and she didn’t want to burden him with her insecurities.

Y/N sighed, putting her phone away, her mind already racing with ways to distance herself from his lavish spending. This wasn't about them, it was about her.

time skip

The shift was subtle at first. Y/N stopped suggesting they go out to fancy dinners or buy anything extravagant. She even started paying for smaller things—coffee, groceries, or an Uber here and there. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go to their favorite restaurants or enjoy the life they’d built together, but she didn’t want to add fuel to the assumptions people were making online. Every time Lando offered to cover something, she’d smile and politely insist on taking care of it herself.

Lando, oblivious to what was going on in her head, didn’t think much of it at first. He’d tease her with a grin, “Trying to outdo me, are you?” And she’d laugh it off, hiding the unease in her heart.

But as the weeks passed, the strain began to show. Y/N wasn’t rich—not by Lando’s standards, not by any stretch. Her savings weren’t endless, and the more she tried to maintain this facade of independence, the more she found herself running low on funds. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep this up, but the thought of being seen as a "gold digger" kept pushing her forward.

One afternoon, as Lando was lounging on the couch, Y/N’s phone rang. She was out picking up some last-minute groceries, and without thinking, Lando picked it up when he saw the caller ID—her bank.

"Hello, this is Lando. I’m answering for Y/N."

The bank representative, not knowing any different, politely responded, "Hello, sir. We were just calling to inform Ms. Y/L/N that her account balance is quite low, and we’ve noticed a few declined transactions recently. We recommend a transfer or deposit soon to avoid further issues."

Lando’s face dropped, confusion swirling through his mind. "Uh, okay. I’ll let her know. Thank you." He hung up and stared at the phone for a moment, piecing things together.

When Y/N returned home, she found Lando sitting on the edge of the couch, her phone in his hand, a serious expression on his face.

"Hey, everything okay?" she asked, setting the groceries down.

He looked up, his blue eyes soft but concerned. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

Y/N froze. She had no idea what he was talking about. "Tell you what?"

"The bank called. They said your account’s low… and that there have been some declined transactions. Y/N, why are you doing this?" His voice was gentle but filled with worry.

Her heart sank. "Lando, I—" She trailed off, not sure how to explain. The tweet flashed in her mind again, and she could feel the walls closing in.

Lando stood up and walked over to her, his hands resting on her shoulders. "Talk to me. Please."

She exhaled slowly, her voice trembling. "I saw a comment a few weeks ago… someone said I was just using your money. That I’m a gold digger and that you don’t care because you can afford it. It got to me, Lando. I didn’t want people to think that I’m only with you for your money. So, I started using my own… but I didn’t realize how fast it would run out."

Lando’s expression softened even more, his brow furrowing as he pulled her into a hug. "Oh, Y/N…"

She buried her face into his chest, feeling the weight of her decision catch up with her. "I didn’t want to tell you because it wasn’t your fault. It’s just stupid people online. But I didn’t want to be seen that way."

He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hands. "Listen to me. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re with me because you love me, and I love you. It’s never been about money, and it never will be."

"But—" she started, but he cut her off gently.

"No, but. I want to spoil you. I want to take you to nice places, buy you things, and make you happy. That’s what people do when they love each other. It doesn’t mean you’re using me. You’re not a gold digger, Y/N. You’ve never been." He kissed her forehead softly. "You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Especially not to me."

Tears welled up in her eyes, not from sadness, but from relief. She’d been carrying this burden for so long, and now, hearing Lando say those words, it felt like the weight had been lifted. "I just didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you."

"I know you, Y/N," he whispered. "You could never do that. I love you, and I love sharing my life with you. That includes my money, okay? We’re a team. Whatever’s mine is yours."

Y/N nodded, tears spilling over as she smiled softly. "I love you too, Lando. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner."

He wiped her tears away with his thumb, smiling back. "Don’t be. Just promise me one thing."

"What?" she asked.

"Promise me you won’t listen to those idiots online. They don’t know us. They don’t know what we have."

Y/N let out a soft laugh. "I promise."

Lando grinned, pulling her into another tight hug. "Good. Now, let’s go out tonight. My treat. And before you say anything, it always will be."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, the tension finally easing between them. "Fine. But I’m picking the place."

"Deal."

[sgiandubh]

Considering it wasn't a Covid bubble where people come and go and her blossoming relationship with Tony pre-airing of the show was not soiled by intrusive fans. Considering she already knew Tony and he and his family are Scottish live in the area. Thank you for making another connection between Caitriona and Tony early on, which led them living together in Scotland by 2015.

Dear Considering Anon,

I, too, am considering your very serious problems in reading comprehension and logic, darling. A COVID bubble is, actually, the opposite of people 'coming and going' and I think, in this regard, you lived that period of our lives under a rock, or you are just lamely trying to lie to yourself (and nobody else). I would, therefore, kindly ask you to stop insulting our shipper collective intelligence, or use a better online translator to English than good, old Google.

In the same vein, you just know who the most prominent intrusive fan was, very early on OL's timeline, as you also know perfectly well that she was not a shipper. Again, you must take me for an amnesic fool, who somehow forgot who was frantically phoning the resorts where S was supposedly spending time with non existent paramours? Or who somehow forgot the trolls on your side who systematically go ask anyone (loosely) connected to SC (and even innocent casuals who happened to spot S or C), all sorts of frankly embarrassing questions? But hey, you people have no shame, never did.

You might want to put a brake on waxing lyrically about that 'blossoming romance', considering C denied in the Irish press even by 2015 or 2016 being involved with anyone, which totally excludes McGill from the equation (why hide it, since you just wrote with great confidence there were 'no intrusive fans', at that moment?). And also considering you are perfectly unable to substantiate McGill being remotely present near her, anytime before the EIFF opening night gala in 2015 (you know, the one with that penguin pic that gives you the shingles...). [Later edit: that is right, I forgot about that flute pic and the other guy who called her 'McGill's girl' on Twitter - is that formal proof of a relationship ?].

By the way - evidence of EIFF staff unnecessarily adding a pic of both C and S (and unnecessarily mentioning her, in the process) years after the event, here:

Considering you cannot prove she already knew McGill before landing in Scotland, in September 2013, and you only rely on meager speculation about her contradictory press statements over time on the topic, I would be more prudent, if I were you. I know they are Scottish and I also know where his family lived and still does, in Glasgow - none of your business and I couldn't care less.

Thank you for understanding that if you want to be treated with basic politeness on this page, you should perhaps think twice before sending this #silly garbage, and also stop calling people you do not know things like 'Dearly Demented', 'stupid' or 'mental ward', as you like to do across the street. In many tones, from the brutal and cheap to the condescending ('giving lessons to someone', when you fail to make the very basic distinction between a budget project and its final implementation - just a not so random example).

Until then, kindly fuck off!

[spoilertheydied]

ugh I hate to be negative about things that I love but seriously DAV only referencing inquisition’s events (and even then only 3 choices) has hurt my excitement for the new game so much.

Even within the choices they give us it feels geared towards a sollavelan inky - I romanced Cassandra but she became divine and ended the relationship: none of that is going to be reflected in the game because the divine decision isn’t imported.

None of the characters who may have died in the other games can have cameos now (Isabela, Zevran, Fenris) no matter how much sense it would make for them to be in nothern Thedas - and even if they do what they did with Leliana no potential romance or history with previous characters can be acknowledged.

Even for the DAI characters - most of them could have left the Inquisition through DAI so any cameos from those characters are either cut off, or wouldn’t truly make sense (mainly thinking about Dorian here because he’s in Tevinter regardless but also could have left the Inquisition if he had low approval in DAI).

The two characters from DAO/DA2 that we have confirmed will feature in the game (Morrigan, Varric) won’t be able to reference any potential past with previous characters - I romanced Morrigan but didn’t do the ritual so Kieran was not an old god in my run and my warden died + Hawke was left in the fade - none of which can be mentioned because it isn’t imported - despite how critical both of those events were to Morrigan/Varric.

DAI was my least favourite of the 3 games and while I was interested in Solas as a character I wasn’t invested enough to truly care about whether I wanted to kill or redeem him - and yet the only choices that will have any impact on my game will be Solas related?

idk I want to be so excited for DAV - I’ve had other problems with things we’ve seen in previews but its never been serious enough for me to lose the optimism I had for the game - but I was *so* excited for the small cameos and even one off dialogue lines or codex entries referencing previous world events (and I knew they were going to be slightly more limited without the keep but I was still expecting something at least).

I don’t want to say the game won’t be *good* without them because I haven’t played it so I just don’t know - but I’m almost convinced at this point that any callbacks to previous games will only be fulfilling if i say I romanced Solas in DAI.

[hungermakesmonsters]

Love, Sick Love

Chapter Four

Plot summary : Working at one of the shadier bars in Brooklyn, you have one rule; don’t mess around with the patrons. Most of them are criminals, dangerous. None more so than Billy Russo, but Billy believes that rules are made to be broken. Especially your rule. One lapse in judgement is all it takes for Billy to decide that you’re his, and he’s never been the sort of man to take rejection well.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Some smutty behaviour . All chapters will deal with dark and smutty themes, including but not limited to stalking. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 5k

A/N : Reader is messy in this one.

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

Master List

Chapter Four

You didn’t tell anyone about Billy or what had happened in the cellar, knowing that it was your own fault for breaking your own rule and allowing him into your bed.

It was something that you knew you’d have to deal with on your own. And, you decided to do that in your usual way; by avoiding the problem. By avoiding him.

Sam hadn’t been too happy when you asked to switch to day shifts for a few weeks and Jenna had been downright devastated but you managed to spin them both a lie about how you hadn’t been feeling well, and if you didn’t switch to days, you might have to take some time off sick or potentially find a new job.

For all his bluster, Sam didn’t want you to quit. Mostly because he didn’t want to have to interview for a replacement. 

Days were quieter and the tips were awful, no matter what you did, but you didn’t see Billy and that almost made up for it. 

Most days you found yourself playing on your phone for hours or thumbing through the  newspapers that the day-drinkers left lying around. The headlines were as entertaining as they were depressing; there was a crime spree gripping the city, a gang of masked men robbing check exchanges and stealing from other criminals. It was hard to tell if they were the good guys or the bad guys as, day after day, more of their crimes were reported.

And, then, there was the news that the Punisher might be back in the city.

You’d been around the last time, you’d seen the insanity that Frank Castle had wrought on the city and it was enough to make you think about getting out of New York.

Despite the distance you’d managed to create between yourself and Billy, you still found yourself having strange, paranoid flashes; feeling like someone was watching you, following you. You got a few strange phone calls, on your phone and at the bar. You’d answer and there would be nothing but silence. And, every time you went back to your apartment, it felt like someone else had been there. Things seemed to move and disappear completely - but, then, you’d never been the most organised of people so there was never definitive proof.

You even asked your neighbour if she’d seen anyone lurking, but she reassured you that no one had been near your apartment except you.

Quickly, you came to realise that you were fueling your own paranoia by constantly thinking about him, not allowing yourself to forget that night in your bed or the uncomfortable moment in the cellar. And, when you finally pushed it all to the back of your mind, the paranoia started to subside.

Jenna didn’t seem to be dealing with your separation well. Every night she’d text you, begging you to drop by Sam’s for a drink and every night you refused, despite how much you missed your only friend.

When her night off rolled around, she invited you on a girls night out and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no to her.

She met you outside your building, more dressed up than usual, obviously wanting to make this a very special night.

“Promise me you won’t get angry,” Jenna said, looping her arm through yours and fixing you with a grin that could only spell trouble.

You let out a sigh, already knowing you were going to be, in the very least, annoyed with whatever she had planned. “What did you do?”

“I might have told a few people where we were going tonight,” she said, laughing and pulling you along with her.

“Like who?”

“Just a couple of guys from the bar,” she answered cryptically until you gave a tug on her arm and forced her to stop and look at you. “C’mon it’s just Billy and Jake, and maybe some of their friends.”

“Billy?” You repeated. “You told Billy where we’re going tonight?”

“Oh, don’t be like that,” she answered, rolling her eyes. “I know you’ve got that whole not fucking the customers thing, but he’s a nice guy. He’s been keeping me company while you’ve been on day shift. And, honestly, if you’re not gonna fuck him, I think I might have to have a go.”

You let out a sigh, daring to hope that Billy had moved on to Jenna; she definitely wouldn’t put up with any of his creepy shit and she’d have no problem putting him in line if he tried to cause her any problems, unlike you.

“He’s all yours,” you told her, barely managing to hold back a grimace.

“Seriously, are you not even curious?” Jenna asked, still leading you through the New York streets towards your destination.

“Curious about what?”

“About Billy? About what he’d be like in bed?” She asked and you didn’t answer. “I bet he’s wild - I mean, you can tell just by looking at him that he’s well hung...”

“Jesus, Jenna,” you rolled your eyes, trying not to think about how right she was. “Do you want me to go home so you can be alone with him?”

Jenna laughed, nudging her arm into your side. She was truly incorrigible and you knew from experience that nothing you said or did was going to tame that side of her. Jenna was a free spirit, she loved the thought of love almost as much as she loved the thought of men in general and, normally, you wouldn’t mind, but listening to her talking about Billy like that just caused your stomach to knot uncomfortably. 

She didn’t answer your question, she was too busy laughing at you as she pulled you into The Styx.

Unlike Sam’s, The Styx had a small dance floor and even had a stage for bands, so despite its bad reputation, most nights there got busy and wild. That night there was a DJ playing and, even though it was still early, it was already starting to fill. 

Jenna waved at the bartender, a friend of hers, and one of the few reasons you tolerated drinking there; Mitchell made sure to always serve you and Jenna first, regardless of who else was waiting and he always liked to pour you both doubles.

Mitchell waved back and, before you’d even managed to shrug out of your jacket, there were two shots on the bar in front of you.

Jenna lifted her glass and smiled the sort of smile that spelled trouble each and every time you saw it. But, still, you raised your glass and clinked it against hers before knocking back the shot. The cheap vodka burned as it hit the back of your throat and, already, you could tell that it was going to be a very long night. While Jenna chatted with Mitchell, you let your gaze wander around the bar, looking for familiar faces and hoping that Jake and Billy would not show up. There were a few people you recognised, some guys who drank at Sam’s from time to time and others who you’d met on nights out with Jenna, but there was no one you really knew, no one you’d be comfortable approaching if Jenna decided to ditch you at any point.

Half an hour went by and you quickly lost track of how many shots Mitchell had placed in front of you, every drink and every minute that passed helping you relax a little more. The music soon got livelier and you soon allowed yourself to be dragged onto the dancefloor by Jenna.

You lost yourself to the beat, happily dancing close to your friend, laughing as she turned to grind her ass against you - that was what you loved about Jenna, her ability to have fun and not give a damn what anyone around her thought. You, on the other hand, felt your cheeks warming at the spectacle.

That’s when you felt it, that prickling sensation on the back of your neck that had you looking towards the bar.

And there he was, his gaze already fixed on you.

Jenna soon noticed and, before you could stop her, she had you by the hand and was pulling you towards the bar.

“Hi!” She said, grinning at Billy and Jake, who both offered their own greetings over the sound of the music.

You just stood awkwardly at Jenna’s side, looking anywhere but at Billy.

“Not seen you around in a while,” Jake said, giving you a friendly nudge, forcing your attention back to the group, “thought you might have gone and got another job.”

“No, I just wanted a change from the nightshift,” you told him, finally letting your gaze flit to Billy for a second.

In that second at least a dozen different thoughts and feelings seemed to pass between the two of you. He seemed surprised and confused, and you made it very clear it was because of him, which only seemed to confuse him more. But you didn’t say it. You didn’t say anything to him and he didn’t say anything to you.

“Everyone grab a shot,” Jenna said, breaking through the tension like a wrecking ball.

You let out an audible groan as another drink was forced into your hand - it was green like toilet cleaner and it tasted just as foul. Even Billy and Jake winced as it went down.

Billy took it upon himself to wave Mitchell over and order the next round of drinks, and everyone ended up with a whiskey in their hand. As usual, he pulled out a roll of cash and, for the millionth time since he’d shown up almost three weeks ago, you wondered where he was getting the money, doubting it was from anything legal.

“I see a table,” Jenna said, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you towards it, the two men trailing after you.

Taking a seat, you settled in, knowing that you’d probably spend the rest of the night at the table now that Jenna had other distractions to keep her occupied.

“So what have you been doin’ with your evenings without us?” Jake asked, seeming a little more amped up than usual. “Hope you’ve not found yourself a man ‘cause I’m still waiting for my shot.”

“Sorry, Jake,” you said apologetically.

While Jake didn’t realise it, he’d given you the perfect opportunity to create a lie, to make Billy think you were off the table and show him, once and for all, that you weren’t interested.

“Wait, what?” Jenna asked. “You met someone? And you were gonna tell me about this when?”

You shrugged. “It’s early days, I didn’t want to jinx it.”

Your eyes flitted to Billy who was staring at you intently, his dark eyes seeming to look right through you, as if he could tell you were lying.

“And what does this new man do?” Billy asked.

You watched a he leaned forward a little, closing the distance between you and making you feel the full weight of his scrutiny 

“He teaches English and poetry at an all boys school,” you answered quickly, reaching for the first lie to come to mind.

Billy didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t have time to voice his doubts before Jenna was on her feet again, proclaiming that she loved the song that had just started playing and demanding someone danced with her.

You didn’t want to, and Billy stayed silent, leaving it to Jake to agree. And as she dragged him off towards the dance floor, you realised your mistake. 

Sitting back, you waited, expecting him to say something, expecting him to become the man he’d been in the cellar. But he didn’t. He stayed silent, letting his gaze drift after Jake and Jenna, watching his friend light up as Jenna danced a little closer than he was expecting her to.

It gave you a moment to watch him, to study him.

It felt like there was something different about him tonight - or, maybe, there had been something different about him the last time you saw him. Though, actually, when you thought about it, it felt like he was a different person each and every time you saw him.

You saw the way he turned his head when he caught anyone looking his way, the way his shoulder ticked upwards as if he was trying to shrug it off. And you saw the way people were looking at him, the way they’d look and then quickly look away because they didn’t want to be caught staring at the freak.

As angry as you were at Billy, and as uncomfortable as his presence made you feel, you wanted to punch someone. 

There were reasons to mistrust him, reasons to be unsettled by him, but none of those reasons had anything to do with the scars on his face.

You took to glaring at anyone who you caught giving him those kinds of glances, making sure they felt guilty the second they looked away. And it wasn’t long before Billy noticed your silent defence of him. That’s when he chose to speak up.

“Dead Poets Society.”

“What?” You asked, heart stuttering in your chest.

“Do you get all your lies from movies?”

“No,” you answered sharply, “sometimes I use books.”

His lips pulled into a smile, enjoying the moment, enjoying having caught you in yet another lie.

“I’m starting to wonder if anyone knows the real you, kitten,” he said, moving into the empty seat beside you.

“You don’t need to know me, Billy.” 

“You’re wrong. I do. I need to know everything about you.”

You didn’t respond, desperate not to get pulled into whatever game he was trying to play with you. You couldn’t even look at him because every time you saw that smirk on his face, you were reminded of that night in your apartment and the way he’d smirked at you each and every time he’d made you come.

A couple more minutes were allowed to pass in silence before he spoke again.

“What did I do wrong?” He finally dared to ask. “Why are you so pissed at me?”

You could only look at him with a mixture of shock and confusion, not understanding how he didn’t realise why you were so desperate to keep your distance from him.

“I don’t get it,” he continued, “you sure as fuck weren’t complaining when I was in your bed.”

Nervously, you glanced around, not wanting anyone to overhear that you’d slept with Billy. Thankfully, Jenna and Jake were still dancing, and no one else around seemed to care even if they could hear him.

“Seriously? You don’t get it?” You asked and Billy gave you one of his uncomfortable shrugs, reminding you of his scarred shoulder and the way you’d stared at him as he slept next to you. “Following me into the cellar, telling me that I’m ‘yours’ - is any of this ringing any bells?”

There was a flicker of discomfort, a split second where he looked like he might finally understand, and you didn’t expect it from him.

“You wouldn’t talk to me,” he said, trying to justify his actions. “You practically kicked me out of your apartment, then you started acting like I don’t exist.”

“What did you expect? I told you from the start, I don’t sleep with customers.”

“I don’t know, I just didn’t expect... that,” he answered, a hint of frustration slipping into his voice.

You didn’t have a response for him, you didn’t know how best to explain it any more than you already had. You couldn’t tell him why you chose to live that way any more than you could tell him why you often chose to hide behind lies.

“This -” he started and stopped awkwardly, lifting his hand, holding it near his face.

Silence fell again for a few seconds, but a different kind of silence, it was tense and thick with discomfort. His discomfort. There was frustration and confusion on his face, like he couldn’t find the words, almost like he couldn’t even remember the words he wanted to say.

“This thing, it -” then came the anger, not aimed at you but at himself, at his sudden inability to express what he wanted to say.

His hand slammed down on the table in frustration. You flinched, recoiling a little, and Billy noticed.

“If I was gonna hurt you, don’t you think I would’ve done it by now?” He asked, this time turning some of his anger towards you. “I’d never hurt you.”

You stayed silent, your gaze shifting to Jenna, hoping beyond hope that she’d come back to the table. But she was too busy dancing, having attracted two more men to her side.

“I used to be good at this,” he said, his voice softening, his hands slipping into his short hair, holding his head, fingers scratching over concealed scars. “I used to be good at talking to women and -” he left the thought unfinished, but you could fill in the blanks. “But now, because of this I’m...”

The pang of sympathy inside you came unbidden, knotting your stomach with discomfort. You didn’t want to feel sorry for him but you could see how much he was struggling, how much pain he was in.

He’d told you that he couldn’t remember what had happened to him and you’d assumed that he still struggled with the trauma of it, regardless of being able to remember it, and seeing him this way just confirmed it.

“I’m sorry about all that,” you said, forcing yourself to speak, to fill the silence and hopefully put an end to things, “but it was one night, Billy. I told you, I like to keep things separate. The bar is work and out in the real world is the rest of my life...” you shrugged.

In a moment of daring stupidity, you reached for him, placing your hand over his, feeling the tension in his fingers, the way he was pressing them against his own head, as if he was trying to hold himself together.

You didn’t expect Billy to flinch at the contact, for him to pull back as if your touch burned. Then he looked at you, his expression betraying his uncertainty. He shook his head, like he was trying to shake away whatever darkness had suddenly gripped him. Then he reached for his drink, knocking it back.

“I get it,” he said, almost as if the last few minutes hadn’t even happened, like he was suddenly back to his usual self - whoever the fuck that was. “I like to be on my own sometimes too.”

“Who says I’m on my own?” You asked, annoyed, feeling like you were getting whiplash just from talking to him.

“People stop by the bar to see Jenna all the time and she’s always got stories,” he said with a shrug. “Only time I’ve ever heard you mention anything happening outside the bar that wasn’t a lie was when you told her about the physiotherapist who couldn’t get you off.”

How had he managed to read you so easily?

How was it that he managed to see through you where others couldn’t?

“Yeah, well, I don’t like people,” you answered, tone betraying your irritation.

“I’m not people.”

“No, Billy, you’re a pain in the ass.”

“Maybe, but you’re only lying to yourself here,” he said leaning closer. “You don’t have to like me to want me, kitten. And I know  you want me. Eventually, you’re going to realise it too.”

You shook your head. “If you’re looking for someone to fuck tonight, you’ll have better luck with Jenna.”

You didn’t let him answer, you didn’t wait for any sort of response. Without warning, you got to your feet and headed to join Jenna on the dance floor. 

She let out a squeal as you approached her, grabbing you and pulling you close, starting to dance with you. Again, you quickly fell into step with her, losing yourself in the music.

After a few songs, you found someone handing you a drink - one of Jenna’s new friends - and you downed it without hesitation, watching as Jenna did the same.

It continued like that, song after song, you and Jenna dancing together, until she found a guy she wanted to throw her arms around. Normally, that was the point in the evening where you would head to the bar and keep Mitchell company but, every time you dared to look, you saw Billy watching you.

On the dance floor you felt safe, daring to believe that he’d keep his distance. 

And, for a while, he did.

The drinks kept coming and you kept knocking them back, the alcohol settling your discomfort and allowing you to just enjoy yourself. Until one of the guys who’d been bringing you drinks started to get a little handsy. 

He placed a hand on your hip and tried to pull you towards him, unperturbed when you tried to push him back. He stepped in front of you again, both hands on your waist this time, trying to pull your body against his.

You were about to push him away when you saw his eyes widen a fraction, and you felt an arm possessively snake around your waist, pulling you back. He muttered something that sounded like an apology, but not to you, to the man who was now holding you.

“I’m willing to put up with a lot, kitten, but you’re pushing my limits,” Billy muttered in your ear.

A shiver ran down your spine, feeling his lips brush against your earlobe with each word. His hold on you tightened, stopping you from pulling away from him.

“You look so good out here,” he continued, the slightest hint of need in his tone. “Just let me have one dance.”

Part of you didn’t want to, but a much drunker part of you saw it as an opportunity to get some revenge, to show him that he couldn’t have what he wanted. You were going to rile him up, frustrate him, and then deny him. You were going to show him not to mess with you. A plan that, in your intoxicated state, you didn’t think could possibly backfire.

“Fine. One dance,” you conceded.

Without another word, you started to move your hips, your hand covering his on your stomach, enjoying the heat of his touch as it bled through your dress. He held you closer and you felt him start to sway with the music, his chest against your back.

“You’re the only person who makes me feel like I’m not losing my mind,” he muttered against your ear. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me, kitten, how much you make me want.”

The admission left you feeling breathless and more confused than ever, your inebriated mind trying to understand him from all the broken pieces he’d let you see. Regardless of what you thought or how you felt, there was just something about him, something you couldn’t deny. He seemed as lost as you often felt, and you felt a strange connection to him, an understanding that neither of you seemed to want to address.   

His lips pressed to your neck and you leaned in to his touch, pressing back against him as you moved your hips. Billy let out a ragged sigh against your neck and you felt a tell-tale bulge growing in his jeans. You started to grind your ass against him in time with the faster tempo of the music, enjoying that you could have that effect on him. It made you feel powerful, like you were the one in charge for a change.

You knew that you were being stupid, that you were allowing yourself to indulge in something that was going to cause you problems, but you didn’t care. And, despite your initial plan, you quickly realised that you weren’t proving any sort of point to Billy. All you were doing was turning him on.

And getting turned on yourself.

His lips returned to your neck again, teeth scraping over skin and pulling a soft moan from you, and that little slip was all you needed to know that you’d fucked up.

The second the song stopped, you slipped from his hold and started to walk away from him. You’d told him one song and that was what you’d given him. Now, you needed to put as much distance between you as possible.

Slipping into the bathroom, you started to shut the door behind you, only for him to stop you, pushing his way inside. He closed the door and locked it before turning his attention to you.

You didn’t say anything, even though you knew that you should. 

He looked at you for a moment, then he was on you, his hands framing your face as he pulled you into a desperate kiss. And you let him, kissing him back against your better judgement, tasting the whiskey on his lips and tongue. 

It was a bad idea, but part of you couldn’t help but want him.

You wanted him to make you feel the way he had that night in your bed.

More than that, you wanted to be wanted by someone who saw you, someone who could see past the bullshit and lies that you surrounded yourself with. 

But common sense started to wage war on your drunken horniness. Your hands found his chest and pushed him away.

Billy regarded you for a second, his gaze burning through you, causing your cheeks to heat and your thighs to clench.

“Give in to me,” he groaned, lips covering yours again before you had the chance to respond.

Despite what you thought you wanted, you lost yourself in the kiss, trembling in anticipation as you felt his soft hand trailing up your thigh and under your dress leaving goosebumps in its wake. You barely noticed as he lifted you onto the counter.

“I can’t,” you told him breathlessly.

But, again, you didn’t even attempt to pull away when he kissed you, silencing your protests. Your mind said no, but every other fibre of your being was screaming yes.

His leg unceremoniously pressed between yours, parting your thighs so he could step between them, holding them apart and allowing his hand to continue upwards. You felt your cheeks start to burn, knowing what he’d find when those roving fingers reached your panties; you were already wet, your body already anticipating his touch. 

His breath caught the moment his fingers reached wet lace. You felt his lips pull into a smile as he continued to kiss you, stealing your breath.

Billy slipped his fingers into your panties and let out a low, desperate groan, sounding like it had been years and not a few weeks since he’d last touched you. You tried not to make a sound as his fingertips stirred between your folds, easily coating themselves in your arousal. But once you felt a finger slide between your walls, you let out a moan that was just as eager as his actions.

“So wet and ready for me. Admit it, you need this. You need me,” he muttered against your lips before sinking into the kiss again so you couldn’t respond.

You hated that he was right, that he could have such an effect on you, that he could make you want and need in equal measure. But, more than that, you hated how good it felt as that finger started to move, stroking in and out of your body at such a delicious pace.

A second finger joined the first and you felt about ready to lose your mind, climbing higher and higher, already getting close to an earth-shattering orgasm. His lips hungrily swallowed down every moan that tried to escape you and you almost felt yourself surrendering to him.

You wanted to give in to him, to the pleasure you knew he could offer for a few sweet minutes. But Billy had made it clear that he didn't just want a moment, and that every kiss, every touch, and every orgasm bestowed came with the price of his ownership. This wasn’t about your pleasure, it was about him staking a claim on you, and that was something you didn’t want.

“Stop,” you said, finally managing to find your voice and your common sense.

To his credit, Billy stopped immediately, but he didn’t pull away.

“You don’t want me to stop, not when you’re so close,” he told you, his lips ghosting yours.

You took an awkward breath, trying to ignore the way his still fingers felt inside you, trying to ignore the little voice in your head that demanded you let him finish what he’d started.

“Yes, I do,” you answered back, breathless and having to force the words from your lips. “I’m not yours, Billy.”

As he leaned, your breath caught and you froze as his lips met yours again. He kissed you, but only for a second, then he was pulling away, his hand slipping from beneath your dress, leaving you feeling bereft. And you watched as he lifted that hand to his face, slipping his fingers between his lips, giving a hungry groan as he sucked them clean. Your stomach tied itself in knots and you found yourself filled with the realisation that this was far from over, and that Billy wasn’t going to give up so easily.

“You’re wrong, kitten. You are mine,” he said as he turned back towards the door. “Keep working the day shift if you want, but you’re not going to be able to avoid me forever. I'll make sure of it.”

And, then, he was gone, leaving you alone with nothing but your own racing heart.

End Note : I know that reader is all over the place in this one... it will be explained and built upon in later chapters as to why she is the way she is, just like I'm going to be playing more into Billy's injuries as things go on. Anyway, hope you all enjoy this chapter!!

As always your comments/likes/reblogs/asks/general screaming is always cherished and appreciated. I hope you all have an amazing weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt (and on AO3 at some point in the hours after).

Tag List : @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @sweetserendipity65 @dreadfulxives18 @snowkestrel @ladyblacky

@readingabouthim @cheshirecat484 @broadwaybabe18 @oliviaewl @lincerad

@benbarnesprettygurl @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @whereismymindnow @danzer8705

[grandpasauce]

"bioware's doing the best they can" "they have to trim the fat SOMEWHERE" "they have to move on from the previous games EVENTUALLY" "they ALWAYS have disregarded things from past games" guys........... (ramblings under the cut)

my man on earth....... morrigan is literally claimed By The Devs to be a prevalent character in datv and ur telling me NOTHING that happned to her is worth putting into the background of datv?

you can claim bioware is just doing their job and have all the excuses in the world for them but when u get down to it.... they really just didnt want to deal with anything from the past three games... they didnt want to put the work in to add even CODEXES (one the the easiest cheapest forms of implementing background lore) to this game... the literal game director barely even knows who ZEVRAN is (a MAIN CHARACTER from the FIRST of the series) because they didnt bother going back to replay or research dragon age as a series beyond dai... like... i understand the devs wanting to simplify their jobs and i actually totally agree, they needed to get rid of the keep, that was too much info for them to keep up with.

But they cut back SO MUCH, like an unnecessary amount. Three? THREE choices? AND ALL OF THEM ARE SOMEHOW RELATED TO SOLAS? NOTHING the inquisitor did was notable beyond their relationship to Solas? Nothing??

people are using leliana as an example of something bioware has retconned before because shes alive regardless of if u killed her in dao or not. except the problem with that is that the games DOES address the fact that she's supposed to be dead. like it very much does that??? hello?? id rather they bring her back and address it than just totally retcon it and never explain it

this is such a horrible, disrespectful decision on bioware's part and making excuses for them is WILD. like. the devs are fine i promise u. stopppp telling people to **touch grass** and **take some deep breaths** after I myself have invested over half my life into playing these games just to get slapped with "lol actually none of that matters now hehe" jfc

like i understand fandom can get a lil crazy but im telling u this isnt an overreaction lmao let people be upset about things that theyve poured their lives into for 15+ years

im still buying the game, im still playing it, ill still love it, but MAN this has kind of totally ruined my trust in the devs and im back to being nervous about how they will address things in this game and beyond because it really feels like a big fuck u to long time fans and idk how they wouldnt think it would be perceived as such.

[dustteller]

I think modern au Zhu SHOULD be the lesbian best friend trope to Ouyang except that its because this man is her pet project and gODDDAMIT she's gonna FIX him she's gonna MAKE him be BETTER she's going to SOLVE EVERYTHING and he will RESPECT HER (she is actively making him worse). She has a whole complex about it and everything. She has based a part of her identity on dragging this man up from his toxic funk and is fully convinced that if she tries hard enough he will eventually come to his senses and be an equal participant in this relationship. They have a terrible wonderful toxic loving codependent relationship that's neither a romance nor a friendship nor a rivalry but a secret fourth thing.

Predictably, this does not go well. The character arcs would be Zhu learning she can't fix a sinking ship and letting Ouyang fail by himself, and Ouyang learning to not be a shit person, actually, and coming out of his bubble of self-centeredness and working on himself instead of unloading his emotional labor onto the people around him. And they should both get to develop a healthier relationship with each other than what they had in canon bc queer solidarity is great and its even better when it's in the shape of some weird bullshit some gay people built out of the corpse parts of heteronormative romance (affectionate and completely unironic)

[greenerteacups]

Could you see Draco and Hermione as part of a Challengers dynamic or is that sacrilegious?

That's interesting! Not sacrilege — my philosophy is to ship anything any way you want, uphill, both ways, in the snow — but my Dramione have always been a tightly pair-bonded codependent couple, and there's not a lot of breathing room in there for a third. If possible, the other leg of that triangle would have to be equally unhinged and intense, and I can't think of anyone who would fit the bill. Ron just isn't the type.

Pansy, though... hm. Maybe.

[corfisers]

i really need to finish this one day

[mogai-sunflowers]

if ur pro-Pali but you are queerphobic what are you even doing….

[sysig]

Clash of sensibilities (Patreon)

[blujayonthewing]

I'm really glad elyss came several years before melliwyk, because mel's alignment shift from chaotic neutral to chaotic good sometimes feels a little embarrassing in an 'I can't keep my own feelings to myself for the sake of committing to the bit' sort of way, but the counterpoint to that is that elyss, steadfastly true neutral, just simply Does Not Care about anyone other than her own loved ones or anything outside her own immediate interest no matter how much I sometimes wish she would

[girlscience]

I hate getting into something that has a canon(ish) sapphic couple, but I only end up caring about one of the two women 😭😭😭

[britneyshakespeare]

throughout the series of drake and josh it pretty consistently implies that josh nichols is a christian (josh peck is jewish) and in the finale of the series helen (played by yvette nicole brown, not jewish[?]) is portrayed as a practicing jew

[trans-leek-cookie]

seeing ppl shipping marcille n chilchuck just makes me. Okay this sucks man. Like these r the least 2 compatible Dungeon Meshi characters chilchuck is a full hater of magic and elves and shit and like. Yeah he can grow out of that but marcille should not have to deal with this idiot. He already lost one wife he doesn't need to be inflicted on more women

[arolesbianism]

Yet another beautiful day to have the Maxwel tag blocked (can't see half of the posts in the Wendy tags)

[milo-igidk]

have i mentioned lately that i fucking hate the council