#i would like to be loved so much that someone leaves an anonymous message about me

[pixies--dust]

Every now and then I visit queering the map and get emotional

[m-ilkiee]

Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa

Chapter 3: The Lesser of Two Devils

series summary: your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. and now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.

cw: DARK CONTENT, MISOGYNY, NSFW, smut (character x character), dubcon, noncon, DARK IMPULSE MIKEY, depressive thoughts, victim blaming, sucidial ideation, religious guilt & discussion (very brief), gaslighting, power imbalance, manipulation, abuse (domestic, verbal, sexual, finanical), love bombing, violence (physical, mental, sexual), slut shaming, peer pressure, dry humping, attempted rape, nonconsensual filming.

r-18+ (not suitable for 17 and under)

wc: 13.3k

[masterlist] [chapter 2] [chapter 4] [taglist]

a/n: the reason why this chapter didn't come out earlier was because I was sick and busy with school. Anyways comments, reblogs and anonymous asks are welcomed.

“DON’T you want to know what me and (name) talked about?”

Mikey doesn’t look away from the burger he’s eating, but he hears Izana loud and clear. The cool morning breeze hits his skin, his golden hair flying in the wind as the two men sit on the ledge of Toman’s balcony, legs dangling from the porch. On a normal day, Mikey wouldn’t be awake by this time, opting to catch some extra hours of sleep until he is forced to go to class. But with the possibility of you saying something to Emma about the incident at the car and Izana going ahead to fix it, he was too restless to go to bed.

He forgot that you could still tell someone, even with your promise. You had no reason to honor it, especially with how he treated you badly, So to get the voice message from Izana with you saying you will keep quiet, was surprising.

“You already told me she’d shut up about the whole thing.” Mikey murmurs, gulping down the last part of the food. “I don’t care about her beyond that.”

A chuckle escapes Izana’s lips as the tanned man takes out a cigarette pack from his pocket. He picks one out with his teeth, then stretches the pack to Mikey. Mikey shakes his head no, at least not now that he just ate a really nice burger and Izana merely shrugs, pushing it back into his pocket, before taking out his lighter. They sit in silence as the lighter flickers on, and Izana brings it to his lips, before shutting it off.

Mikey stares ahead of the weather as Izana smokes, the sun barely peeking out of the dense clouds surrounding it, meaning it was probably going to be a rainy day. He remembers his teenage years, whenever it was rainy and Shin had to go to work, leaving Izana in charge, the three of them would have rainy days, doing things like building large pillow forts, playing video games or a makeshift band with Izana on the guitar, Emma with her drumset she barely ever used and him on the vocals. He and Izana always got along, they were having too much fun to even think about fighting, and it made Emma happy too.

Eventually, as they grew older, rainy days were spent apart, with Izana either busy with work or smoking in his room and him busy with his own gang, in his own world.

And Emma; they left her all alone. Not like they had a choice, they just couldn’t bring themselves to drag her into the lifestyle they were knee deep in or endanger her by bringing her out with them. In hindsight, they were just trying to protect her, but in a way, Mikey knows she resents them for isolating her.

You were her act of defiance against their strict rules. She could hide it with her words that she was fine with her upbringing, but her actions speak even louder for herself. Mikey just wished she defied him in a better way than being friends with someone outside the Sano approved group.

Silence continues between the two of them as they do their own thing, watching the sun attempt to peek out of the dense clouds. Sometimes, Mikey feels like the sun, constantly competing with the cloud of darkness hovering above his head, waiting for his carefully crafted mask to slip just a little bit, so that it can consume him and leave him with nothing.

It already happened once with you in that car and he knows that it cannot happen again.

What happened was a mishap. Something he knows he shouldn’t do again, yet he doesn’t understand what exactly he did wrong.

It confused him to no end. Was it that you felt guilty because your religion said premarital sex is wrong? Or maybe he was too aggressive with you, pinning you down until you couldn’t move? It wasn’t like he had a choice because you kept on fighting him every step of the way.

He looks at his brother peacefully smoking, thinking about the earlier proposal he had offered. Come to think of it, what could you have told Izana that could have made him ask Mikey if he wanted to know?

“So, why did you actually do it?”

Izana’s hoarse voice startled the younger man, nearly making him jump out of his skin. Once he got his bearings, he responded with another question, confusion laced in his tone. “Do what?”

“The car incident. Like, really of all the girls, why her?”

Oh that. “She kept rubbing her thighs together any time I said something, and I thought she wanted relief.” He shrugged, but didn't look Izana in the eye. “She was asking for it-”

“You’re lying.”

Mikey goes silent. Izana must have finally figured out that he wasn’t being completely honest, he was way too observant when it came to others, especially his siblings. “I couldn’t stop myself,” he sighed out, finally facing the reality of the situation. “It was like everything she said or did seemed to offend me.”

“Is that so?”

“Well,” Mikey paused for a moment, thinking about that day. He was angry, but there was always something gnawing at the back of his mind whenever he saw you. The voices in his head made it difficult to think rationally and encouraged more impulsive actions, and that was truly the origin of the actions that happened in the end. “I also really just wanted to know how sleeping with her would feel.”

“Fool.”

“Excuse me?”

The white haired man doesn’t answer his question immediately, tossing the finished cigarette to the ground first, before pushing himself upright. “You heard me clearly. You’re a big fucking moron.” His voice is low and strained, fury lurking beneath.

Izana’s words struck a nerve, causing Mikey to stand up, dark eyes glaring right back at his brother. He thought Izana was on the same side as him in hating you, so why was he suddenly insulting him? “If I didn’t know any better, I would assume you’re blaming me and taking her side.”

“I AM blaming you.” He spits out, venomously towards Mikey now, eyes burning with anger. “Because of you thinking with your dick, you risked our relationship with our sister”

“So was I supposed to tell my dark impulses to go on vacation that day? It wasn’t entirely MY fault-”

“You drove her to the most secluded space in school. Do I look stupid enough to buy that excuse?”

Oh this was rich coming from Izana. “Are you insinuating I planned to rape her?” Mikey asked incredulously, not believing his ears. “I met her on the road and she asked for privacy. I didn’t intend to do anything, I’m not you.”

“You don’t get a moral high ground right now.” Izana spits back at Mikey, making the blond clench his jaw.  “You’re just as bad as me and you know it.”

“She can go to class and move the fuck on from whatever happened. If it were you in that fucking car, she’d be in a hospital-”

“And yet I went to clean up the mess you made without taking out my dick, you ungrateful little asshole.” Izana hissed back.

“Don’t call me little-”

“You know what I hate about you, Mikey? You’re so self-centered and self-absorbed that you don’t think about how your actions affect everyone else. You just want things to go your way and you can’t take no for an answer.” Izana laughs coldly. Mikey’s jaw clenched tightly, but stays silent as Izana continues to tease him. “Then again she’s the idiot who fell in love with you, so she better get used to that nasty habit of yours.”

‘What?’

Mikey feels like an ice bucket of water had been thrown on him. His mouth slowly hangs open, trying to process what he just heard right now.

“Don’t fuck with me-”

There’s no way that can be real. It had to be a lie or some kind of sick joke that Izana came up with, but he’s not laughing or smirking. Instead, he lights another cigarette, a resigned sigh escaping his lips. “Look” he said, blowing out a loud plume of smoke. “It was you who said we have to befriend that bitch. I’m guessing it’s because you want to get your dick wet and I don’t care. But if we’re going to pull it off and trap her, you’re going to do all the heavy lifting.”

“I’m not interested-”

“Don’t give me that bullshit Manjiro.” Mikey suddenly flinched at Izana’s harsh tone, the use of his government name sobering him up. “I know that you want to sleep with her. But you’re not going to just go in guns blazing. You’re going to convince Emma you like her by doing some grand gesture so that (name) feels like she can’t say no to you.”

Mikey stays silent, mulling over his brother’s suggestion. Izana can see right through him, even to his deepest desires and he knows it’s true. He’s attracted to your body and wants you.

“Okay fine.” He finally gives in. “But I don’t believe she loves me. She probably said that because you scared her.”

“Then you won’t be opposed to making a bet, right?”

Mikey smiles widely. He just wants to knock down Izana by a few pegs to prove him wrong.

“Fine.”

   “NGH, K-ken -more please-”

There is nothing more divine to Emma than what Draken was doing to her right now.

It was supposed to be a normal morning after a wild night. She had told Ken after round five, going to round six that she had a test tomorrow, one she absolutely could not miss and he had promised her no shenanigans.

Unfortunately, Ken is not one to keep those kind of promises.

She’s not sure why he decided to be touchy today; maybe it was the two weeks of no contact until you pushed her into accepting Draken’s proposal for a date night. Whatever it was, Draken was extra clingy this morning and he managed to convince her to let him eat her out for good luck.

Not like she’s complaining, for a change, she’d like to be the one on the receiving end.

Her legs were spread out wide on either side of Ken, his head buried in between her thighs, lips latched onto her clit, sending pleasurable tingles throughout her entire body. Yellow eyes cast down to Draken, her hand gripping his long blond hair, forcing him to stay put.

She let out soft moans at the gentleness of his tongue, the way his large fingers rubbed the sides of her waist to keep her grounded, occasionally rolling his tongue to her hole, before trailing back up to her clit. The girl felt her back lift from the bed, arching in a perfect circle, her heels digging into the bed. Ken hums into her pussy, sending vibrations onto her clit and a wave of electricity down her spine.

“Ken, fuck more-” she gasped, feeling his long tongue swipe up her clit, his mouth engulfed around her pussy. “- right there, k-keep g-going ah”

Emma felt like she was in cloud nine, so high with bliss underneath Draken’s touch. Whenever she was with him, all her problems disappeared for a moment and everything felt so, so good. She didn’t have to think about university or lecturers sucking up to her because of her affiliations. She didn’t have to think about Mikey and Izana bothering her.

She didn’t have to think about you.

You with your soft gaze, laughing gently at whatever joke she might have told you -it wasn’t that funny and yet Emma found herself smiling along with you. Your smile, so beautiful when genuine it reflects in your eyes. Your warm skin that she looks for any excuse to touch, to feel you. The way you looked at her shocked when she showed you the knowledge she retained from Taekwondo, underneath her sweaty body, your chest rising and falling.

‘Shit. I’m not supposed to be thinking about this now when Draken’s here. Not again’ She panicked, trying to focus on Draken’s ministrations again.

But her thoughts kept drifting back to you. Emma’s strong hands securing your thighs, pushing you down to her face until you're on top, her tongue working on your clit and hole while Draken eats her out as well. 

It was too late, the mere thought sent a wave of electricity to her clit, combined with Draken’s touch.

Her two favorite people, sandwiched between them. You’re more innocent, unskilled and Emma is willing to let both her and Draken pamper you, his large hands cupping your breast as he fucks into her while you grind on her face. Or you on the bed, Emma watching Draken fuck you stupid while she touches herself to the sight.

‘F-fuck it.’ She relishes in his touch and her imaginations, now switching to just you and her, your bodies pressed together as she rubs her clit on yours, gently kissing you. ‘I want her so bad shit. I-i want her so bad-’'

Emma cried out as she orgasmed hard, white filling her vision. Draken’s tongue worked her through the feeling, letting her grind on his face as she rode it out until she couldn’t, falling flat on her back on the pillows.

She tried to catch her breath the moment it was over, mulling over the feeling of post euphoric bliss. Draken crawled from between her legs and laid on top of her, lowering his lips to hers in an open mouthed kiss. She hummed, relishing her taste on his tongue, secretly wishing yours was on it too.

The man pulled away, resting his forehead on hers, just staying in silence with her as he usually did after a session. A pang of post nut guilt hit her for thinking about you like that. It felt so wrong and disrespectful, especially knowing how well you trusted her and how she cherishes you so much.

You’re her friend, she’s not supposed to imagine you in such vulnerable positions, not when you probably wouldn’t be comfortable with such thoughts and not when she is in bed with someone else.

Not when you might not have feelings beyond friendship.

She didn't realize her face was scrunched up in a frown until Draken rested his large palm to her face and pressed his finger between her brows, rubbing circles in the space. “Stop frowning, you’ll get wrinkles.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. “At least that’s what you told me.”

She rolled her eyes in response, swatting his hand away as she shoved her guilt at the furthest corner of her mind. “It’s a stupid myth I told you so that you stop scaring my other friends that don’t know you. And there’s nothing wrong with wrinkles.”

He smiled mischievously, the kind that Emma was used to when he was about to push her buttons like always. “So what’s with all the beauty products?”

“Get off my case Ken.” she hissed at him, but there was no malicious intent behind her tone.

“Besides you and Mikey steal my very expensive products any time either of you come here. Buy your own shit.”

“You steal the fries off my plate, too.”

“The fries are 5 dollars, Ken, you’ll live.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, still laying on their bed to catch their breaths as Emma’s thoughts began to drift back to you. It has been some months since she started to see you in that way. She didn’t know how she developed these feelings nor could she pinpoint the day they started. It doesn’t surprise her though, you were just her type; soft-spoken, genuinely kind and so innocent, the kind of person she’d want to shield from the world forever. And in terms of looks, god you were gorgeous in her eyes, like a painting that the artist took his time to create.

It wasn’t like she didn’t try to bury her feelings for you. She figured you liked Mikey when she saw the stars in your eyes any time you looked at him and tried her best to set you both up, only for her plan to slap you in the face when Mikey treated you like dog shit. She switched gears to Izana but that even went so much worse that she had to step in.

Emma doesn’t understand why they hated you. You had done nothing but respected them, no matter how much they both hurt you. How could anyone hate you really? You were just so fragile, so quiet and you avoided trouble, so why do her brother’s keep insisting you’re no good for her?

“What’s on your mind?”

Draken’s quiet voice brought her back to reality, and she let out a quiet sigh, rolling her body to face him. “Just thinking about (name).” she mumbled, her eyes meeting his. “And how I royally fucked up by trying too hard to introduce her to Mikey and Izana.”

He hums in response, his brows furrowed together. “Mmh.” He shifts his body a bit to reach out his hand, stroking her face. “Mikey’s so cruel to the poor girl. If I were her, I’d hate his guts by now. Izana too.”

“I don’t think she’s capable of hating anyone.” Emma sighs softly for the umpteenth time, leaning into his touch. You’re not the type of person who can hate someone for treating you badly, no matter what. You’re so insistent on forgiveness, even though you’re in so much mental anguish that it baffles Emma. “The other day after my fight with Izana, she insisted I should talk to my brothers and forgive them, that she understands where they’re coming from. I think…” Emma pauses. “... it’s because she likes Mikey a lot, y'know. That’s why she’s so insistent on forgiving him.”

Draken’s expression darkens at the statement, his hand stopping mid-stroke. The once calm atmosphere basking in the warm afterglow of their lovemaking had turned ice cold, tension hanging in the air and it sort of scared Emma.

“Babe?”

Whatever it was that had crossed Draken’s mind quickly changed on hearing her frightened voice. He quickly shifted back to his warm gaze, stroking her hair again. “I’m sorry. I was just…” he trails off, a sigh escaping his lips as he recomposes himself. “There’s something I actually want to tell you-”

Draken’s words cut off as her alarm went off. Emma groaned outwardly, realizing that it was already time for her to start getting dressed for her important test. Reluctant, the blonde rolled off the bed nude and walked towards the bathroom.

“So sorry Ken.” She murmured, opening the door to the bathroom. “But I’ve got to go to class soon. Plus, I’m picking up (name) since she doesn’t have a ride there and I don’t want her to spend the little money she has on a bus fare. You can tell me later right?”

Emma doesn’t see the despair on Draken’s face. “Yeah. I’ll call you after class.”

“Thanks, you’re the best.”

  A LONG time ago, you dreamed of freedom.

You wanted to do something with your life other than the carefully crafted plans your parents had for you. You were told women belonged in the kitchen, that they should always be hairless, stand behind their husbands, and seen but not heard. That life felt like prison; cold and unloving, with nothing else to do. Your father wouldn’t even let your mother have female friends, because it would encourage gossiping and his wife should never be involved with gossip.

Despite your mother being on the more introverted side, you could still see the terrible loneliness in her eyes. She was like a bird in a cage, forced to sing for people when they have guests, serving them with a smile, but not too bright, otherwise your father would have an issue with her.

You didn’t want to become like your mother, so you ran right into another cage that you can’t see yourself getting out of.

You stare at yourself in the toilet mirror as the faucet runs, your heart dropping at how terrible and haggard you look right now. Not only did you have to deal with Izana’s subtle threat hanging over your head, but the test you had written the day after was also terrible, as if you’d forgotten everything you had studied for. You still have no luck in finding a job and those nightmares of Mikey continue to plague you.

Within a span of a few weeks, your life had been thrown into chaos. You miss the days where you were worried about getting the approval of Mikey and Izana, where you didn’t know the uglier sides of them and how far they would be willing to go to keep you quiet. 

“I shouldn’t have gone to that party. I should have stayed back and dealt with it.” Your voice is low, strained from all the crying you’ve done since you excused yourself from your hangout with Emma.

Emma.

You can’t even tell your best friend all your heartaches. Even ignoring what Izana said, just seeing her chat about her date with Draken, a smile plastered all over her face, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her. You’re no longer confident that she would stand up for you, seeing how Izana was so convincing that you believed everything he said about the entire situation being your fault.

‘I need to face reality. I’m just someone she met a few months ago and those are her brothers she’s lived with for years. Why would she believe me over them?’

You were told that God doesn’t give you burdens He knows you cannot bear, but this one might be too heavy for you to carry.

Reaching for the faucet, you hastily splashed water on your face, trying to calm yourself down. Worse things have happened to you, worse things will happen to you and this is just one of them. You can bear the pain, the shame of letting that happen to you, so long as you never let it repeat itself again.

“I’ll stay away from them.” You say out loud, staring at your reflection in the mirror. It’s a promise; you know it’s the only way to get them off your back. If you make sure Emma spends less time with you and more with them, they’ll leave you alone. “I won’t be a bother or attend any of their parties or force myself into their friend groups. I’ll just be Emma's friend and that’s it.”

A sigh escapes your lips as you stare in the mirror again. Easier said than done.

You touch up your face a little, putting on your lip balm and redoing your hair. You force a smile onto your face, adjusting your blue dress and walk out of the bathroom with false confidence that could kill a sensible man. You held your head up high as you made your way back to the canteen; life gets harder on a daily basis, but at least you have a chance at making things easier for yourself.

‘Avoid the brothers, find a job, study harder.’ You repeat to yourself as you make your way back to the canteen where Emma was waiting for you. You still long for freedom to live a life you chose for yourself and you won’t let anyone ruin that for you. It’s merely a stumbling block that you’ll get over. In ten years time, you’ll forget about your terrible childhood, you’ll forget what Mikey did to you and how Izana made you feel like everything was all your fault.

Someday, you’ll live your dreams that seem so far away.

‘I’ll live in a house that I love, I’ll have a job and maybe a pet. I’ll have more friends and I’ll be ha-’

Your thoughts die the second they come in your line of sight.

Mikey sits on one side of Emma, making a pouty face while she laughs at him. Izana sits on the other side with his cheek resting on his hand, a humorous smirk plastered on his face. To everyone else, it looks like a family having a fun time, bonding and laughing together, but to you, it's a mocking gesture, reminding you of your place in Emma’s life and how much worth you have. That they can do what they like and not feel the slightest bit of guilt while you spend days crying and washing out the dirt off your body until your skin feels raw.

Mikey is the first person to notice you, dark eyes looking into yours and for a brief moment he stares blankly at your frozen figure standing a few feet away, before switching to a more sincere look.

“Oh uh, (name),” the way your name rolls off his tongue makes you anxious. It’s so calm and reserved, like you’re old friends that haven’t seen each other in ages. Like he wasn’t the same man that forced himself on you in his car. “We've been waiting for you. You spent a lot of time in the bathroom, are you still sick?”

If you weren’t feeling sick before, you do now. He sounds genuinely worried and if you were as clueless as Emma, you would have believed he was. The others turn their attention towards you and you feel even more nauseous when Izana gives you a worried frown, yet his eyes are full of mirth.

He finds this entire situation entertaining.

Everything inside you wants to scream at them, tell them to just stop whatever they are trying to do, but all you do is stand and stare at them blankly.

“You’re shaking. Come on, sit down, before you fall.” Emma teases, thinking that you’re shaking because you were nervous and not angry. “Geez guys, look at what being mean to her has done. She’s scared of you guys! You better hope she accepts your apology.”

An apology. They were here to give you a fake apology. After everything they had done to you, they had the audacity to come here to offer you an apology they didn’t even mean, just to get in Emma’s good graces again, and she bought every single bit of it.

“We’re really sorry for being mean to you.” Izana chimes in a remorseful tone, but he doesn’t mean it, not even the slightest bit. “I shouldn’t have called you a whore or made fun of you like that.”

They could have done this earlier. Right after the party. You wouldn’t have minded the fake apology as long as Emma was happy and you all could be cordial with each other. But they chose to ruin your life first, before going ahead to apologize, as if it would mean anything to you. As if it would undo the damage they have caused.

“I was a jerk.” Mikey says in a very apologetic tone that could have anyone else fooled. “All these months, I assumed you were coming between us and I let jealousy push me to do things I never meant to. Let’s put the past behind us and be friends.”

‘Be friends?’

Frustration bubbles up at the bottom of your chest, your heart pounding loudly against your chest as you look at the two men who made your life a living hell. All this time, you were planning on ignoring them and moving on with your life like nothing happened but they just won’t do the same, despite them hating you. Was this just to torment you until you left Emma permanently?

Why are they doing this to you?

Right now, you want to tell them no, you don’t want to ever be friends with them, you can forgive them but you want nothing to do with them. But everyone else in the cafeteria is staring, expectantly waiting for your answer. You know if you say anything now, your life will be ruined. No one in this cafeteria will be on your side, either out of fear of the Sano family connection or loyalty to them.

Yet again, you’ve lost.

Pushing down your anger and frustration to the bottom of your heart, you decide it is best to accept their apology publicly and keep your sentiments to yourself, a forced smile on your lips. “I-it’s alright. I know everything you’ve done is all for Emma.” It’s technically not a lie, but it isn’t true either. You take your seat right across the rest of the Sanos quietly, feeling everyone’s watchful gaze on you, picking up your drink in shaky hands. “I forgive you both. Let’s put the past behind us.”

Your heart drops further to your stomach when you realize what you had just said. You feel even worse when you realize you meant every word: that you forgive them, because you’re tired of being angry. You’re tired of holding them in your heart and making plans to avoid them. If you were going to keep secrets from Emma, then you’ll have to actually put it behind you or it would eat you alive.

Anyone else who knew your situation would have called you a moron for doing so, but when you look at Emma, who is smiling at her brothers, you know you did what you think is the right thing and you did it for the right reason.

Love.

Right.

YOU feel overwhelmed.

With your dwindling savings and the looming fear of failure concerning your tests hanging over your head, it feels like the world is throwing one curveball after another at you. Applying to jobs had been even more disappointing. Apparently, no one wanted to take in a college student who was fired from her last job, not especially after that scathing recommendation letter from your former employer that said very concerning things about you.

You know it won’t be long until you have nothing left and time is running out for you. At this rate if you don’t get any job, you might have to ask someone for a loan or financial aid. But you don’t want it to get to that.

‘I still have some time before then. I can get a new job, no matter what it is.’

With no classes for the rest of the day, you decide to keep searching for jobs with a renewed vigor. pulling yourself up and googling jobs with vacancies, writing applications and reviewing them before sending it to multiple places. You’re sure if you send a hundred applications, one will definitely call you back. You kept sending application after application until you lost count of how much you’ve put out. Your back aches from being hunched over to type on your phone, your eyes are blurry from staring at the screen for so long and your mouth feels dry but you don’t stop sending mails.

Immersed in your application, you don’t realize that someone is practically pounding on the door of your room until the door flies open, Emma barging in, guns blazing with a terrified look on her face. You exit out of your email app and close your tabs quickly just as she comes in, screaming your name with a shaky voice.

“(Name)? (Name)!”

You rush towards her, panicking that something terrible might have happened to her. Grabbing her by her shoulders, you hold her in place, trying to calm her down. “I’m here, I’m here. Are you okay? Did something happen? Are you hurt?”

For a few seconds, it’s as if Emma can’t register that it’s you holding her, struggling in your grasp until she looks at your face. Her eyes lit up in recognition, a sigh of relief escaping her lips only for her relieved face to turn furious, like she’s angry at you.

Scratch that, she IS angry at you.

“For god’s sake (name) don’t scare me like that!” You look at your best friend, clearly puzzled by her answer to your question as you release her shoulders. As if reading your mind, Emma adds; “I’ve been knocking on your door for the past ten minutes and when you didn’t answer, I called you again for five minutes but it said your line was busy! So I panicked. I thought something had happened to you.”

‘Whoops’

 You put your phone on do not disturb because you didn’t want any distractions while you were applying for jobs. You also never told anyone that you had lost your old job and you were looking for a new one, especially not Emma. Knowing her, if she knew you were fired, she’d try to assist you with money despite your protests. You don’t want to use her kindness for your own benefit, especially in this friendship. Even if you agreed to borrow money from her, she would never let you pay it back.

You’re the kind of person to pull your own weight, not to cast the burden onto someone else. You don’t want her to feel obligated to help you.

“I’m really sorry for scaring you. I put my phone on dnd because I was busy-”

“You never, EVER put your phone on DnD, even when you’re doing your homework.”

Now she sounds suspicious, the last thing you want. Knowing yourself, you find it hard to lie and Emma can be persuasive in figuring out secrets, like how she had convinced you to tell her you had a crush on her brother when you first met her.

You really don’t want her to find out this secret.

It’s as if for the first time someone hears your prayers for once because Emma drops this issue instantly. “You know what? That doesn’t matter.” She brushed your hands off her shoulders, letting them fall to your side as she walked away. “If your phone was on dnd, it means you didn’t get my message. No wonder you’re not dressed up.”

‘Message?’

For the third time today, your face scrunches up in confusion as Emma walks up to your wardrobe and starts digging through it. “What message?” You ask, tentatively. You hope it doesn’t have anything to do with either of her brothers - two people you’ve been avoiding for a while now. Just because you’ve given them grace doesn’t mean you want to be associated with them. It’s hard to not feel some form of resentment for what they did to you.

Without looking up from her task, she says cheerily, “Mikey and Izana said they want to take us out shopping today!”

Your heart drops at the statement. Just as you feared. Maybe things will never go your way and you just have to accept life as it is.

“Are you sure about that?” The last thing you wanted was to arrive at a place, only to find out your presence is unwanted, again.

“It’s not going to be like the last party, I swear.” It’s as if Emma can read your thoughts, because she dismisses the idea immediately. “Mikey practically begged me to drag you out- Oh this looks cute, come here (name).”

Despite being unnerved, you make your way towards Emma in strides until you’re besides her. You stand there, perplexed that of all the people, Manjiro Sano, who you’re sure despises you, asked for you to come with them. ‘Or maybe it wasn’t like that.’ You try to rationalize the whole situation. ‘Emma might have asked if I could come and he told her to go ahead. Maybe Izana wasn’t in the mood to protest it either, since he seems okay with my presence. Or he wants to test me to see if I’d say a peep.’

“I can hardly believe Manjiro would want me there.” You decide to voice out your doubts as Emma puts a couple of outfits on your body to see what matched. “Or that Izana wouldn’t protest my presence there. Just because they apologized doesn’t mean they automatically like m-”

“This dress looks so pretty on you. You’re totally wearing this.” Emma cuts you off, putting a white fitted dress with slight ruffles at the end, as if she wasn’t even listening to you. You’re about to voice your concerns again when she adds. “(name), my brothers never ever apologize to anybody. Mikey’s selfish and immature when it comes to taking accountability, even when he’s caught red handed and Izana is too prideful to ever admit he’s wrong. But they did that for you. Do you know how much of a big deal that is?”

“You had to give them the silent treatment for them to do it-”

“They still wouldn’t have apologized, they would have threatened to hurt you or put you in danger, as long as it meant you were gone and they didn’t have to say sorry. Sometimes, my brother’s pride is much more important than I am to them.” You feel a chill run down your spine when you register that Emma’s silence could have meant your disappearance. Suddenly, the gun in Izana’s hands last time wasn’t just a threat, it was a promise and it made sense now when he called you a fool for trusting him. “But they laid down that pride, for you. You. Don’t you understand?”

“I don’t-”

“I think my brothers are in love with you.”

“HUH!”

‘Excuse me?’

Your mouth fell open in shock, trying to process what you just heard. Their apology, the fake acting, everything worked well; too well in fact that Emma was suddenly jumping into the wildest conclusions, conclusions that not even in your wildest imaginations you could jump to. Maybe if you were still naïve, you would have been elated at the idea of the two brothers liking you in any capacity. If Mikey hadn’t sexually assaulted you and if Izana hadn’t pointed a loaded gun at your head, you would have believed that lie hook, line and sinker.

But you know the truth. Neither of the brothers are capable of loving you.

You don’t say anything to counter Emma or change her mind. Maybe it’s best she thinks they’re in love with you and live in her headspace that her plan of endearing you to her brothers worked. It’ll keep her less suspicious. “Well, don’t be shocked babe, it’s not just them, even the rest of the executives have a crush on you. You’re a work of art painted by god himself and you have the personality of a fucking saint, who wouldn’t love you?” She giggled, pushing the dress into your chest. “Now go shower and put this on. I’ll do your hair and makeup when you come out. I’ll tell the boys we’re going to be late.”

‘Yeah. Who wouldn’t love me?’

You force a smile as you disappear into the bathroom.

    IZANA knows you’re beautiful.

It’s not something that could be denied. Anyone could insult you about not having money or being a prude, but no one could ever call you ugly and mean it. You’ve got that sort of grace that many girls don’t have, not just the looks, but the purity of your soul and a heart of gold. Your innocence is like a white cloth, with no blemishes, no stains, because of your hard upbringing and strong morals.

To him, you would be fun to ruin.

He’s not the only one that can’t take his eyes off you. Mikey’s more obvious with his staring, watching your every move as you walked towards them alongside Emma. Dressed in a white short dress with ruffles at the bottom and a blue lace trim, your makeup is rather cutesy, doll-like even, making you look much more innocent than you usually do. Your demeanour today is not so different, donning your usual shy appearance, eyes cast down to your feet as opposed to Emma’s bright, preppy aura, her chin up and eyes alight.

Like night and day. You two couldn’t be any more different.

Mikey’s the first to react, ever the affectionate brother, pulling Emma into a tight hug the second she stepped in his vicinity.

“Emmaaaa”

Aware of his displeasure about them being two hours late, she hugged him back with equal intensity, rubbing his back to soothe him until he calmed down. Izana notices you looking at their interaction with a longing gaze in your eyes, and at first, he wonders if you want to hug Mikey too. It wouldn’t have surprised him, given how desperate you are for any form of affection, but then he remembers you too once had a family and you had elder brothers.

‘I wonder if she misses them.’

He’s cut off by his thoughts when Emma launches herself at him. He catches her in time, hugging her tight and patting her hair, Mikey also joining in the hug too, dorayaki always switches on his more affectionate side. You can only stand there awkwardly with your hands by your side, looking away from the three siblings as if you’re intruding in a private moment. Izana decides to be merciful enough to stop taunting you with their love.

“I think we’re making your friend jealous.” His purple eyes meet yours as he makes the statement. Your eyes widened as the three siblings separated, stammering out shaky excuses, clearly embarrassed that you were caught staring. “N-no, I don’t mean to- I-i mean I-i’m not… you can keep hugging I don’t mind… I’ll just…”

There it is again. That shyness as you looked down at your feet, trying to hide your flustered gaze away from them. Izana thinks that perhaps his favourite trait of yours is the ability to get so worked up easily, it makes it so fun to tease you.

“Aww, (name), do you want a hug too?” Emma eggs on, making you even more flustered. Oh so you also swing that way, interesting. “You must be feeling left out-”

“Emma!”

Your outburst only makes the three siblings laugh at you for a full minute before dropping the whole thing altogether. Besides, they were in public, any further teasing would have turned into something more charged.

He wonders what would happen if you were alone with either of them.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Emma says, walking back to you and grabbing your arm, pulling you alongside her. “Come on, we came out too late and all the stores are gonna close within four hours. Let’s go!”

Izana follows behind Mikey, until he catches up with him. He realizes his brother is silent, which was odd since he was so chatty and affectionate just minutes before. He’s about to ask what’s wrong when he follows Mikey’s gaze to your backside, lust practically oozing from how he was undressing you with his eyes.

Izana gets it. Your dress makes your body look good and your ass looks amazing in it; if he had any less control, he would have pounced on you in the middle of the mall.

But for someone who said he doesn’t want you at first, Mikey looks like he wants to drag you into a corner and fuck you like a slut right now. Sometimes, he wonders why Mikey chooses to lie and deny himself of things he wants instead of asking his dear big brother for help.

The white haired male leans closer to Mikey, his voice low enough for only the both of them to hear. “Don’t forget our bet.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

    YOU’RE not buying anything.

It’s a blow to Mikey’s pride that you’re just standing there, not touching anything.

He thought you’d jump at the opportunity to take his money and run wild with it, so that he’ll call Izana’s bluff about you loving him. For someone as poor as you, free money is like a dream come true. He knows your type of woman; pretty, nothing up in your head apart from books and the desire to want something more. He’s dated girls below and at his financial ladder, and most of the times, the poor girls love to drain him dry of his cash- not like that would ever happen, what’s a few million dollars gonna do to his wealth

It makes him feel less guilty when he eventually takes his own payment in kind, letting out his dark impulses when he has desires to be fulfilled. He drains them of all the love and adoration they can give to him until there’s nothing left for him to lord over.

Mikey watches you from the corner of his eye, the way you take note of each outfit before just nodding and moving to the next one. It annoys him. ‘Do you think you’re too good for an expensive designer brand (name)?’

Eventually, he gets up from his chair, excusing himself from one of Emma’s fitting sessions to meet up with you. He doesn’t miss the way your hand shakes nervously as you hide it behind your back, giving him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Oh hey Mik- Manjiro. Do you need anything?”

“Don’t you like anything in this store?”

“W-what? Of course I do, the clothes here are pretty-”

“But you aren’t buying anything.”

It’s your turn to be confused, looking at Manjiro like he had two heads. What could possibly be going on in that head of yours that made his statement so surprising? “If you don’t like anything in this store, I could take you to another place while Emma and Izana stay here. We can meet up with them later.”

You look at him for a few seconds, blinking once, then twice before smiling at him, a bit more honest this time and to his dismay he feels something hot burning in his chest and spreading to his face. “Oh, that’s nice of you,” your words come out in a drawl, eyes half-lidded as you thumb one of the clothes. “But the truth is, everything in this mall is much too overpriced, so I can’t really afford anything, but it’s how life is. I’ve worked in a store like this before, I can tell you that I buy similar clothes in the thrift store for less and save money for my next year tuition while looking good. Quality isn’t too different either and I’m happy.”

For the first time, Mikey really takes a good look at your face, because he’s sure you’re not the same person; talking about responsibility and budgeting instead of scuffing at your feet like you usually do.

He understands why Izana called him a self-centered fool that never noticed anything that didn’t involve himself. The world has given you so much pain and suffering and yet, you work around it to just survive and move on, not once blaming him for anything.

He hopes for your sake, Izana isn’t right for saying he’s in love with you.

“Manjiro?”

There’s a softness to your gaze when you look at him, as opposed to other girls who stare at him like he holds heaven and the earth in his hands.

It’s the same way his mother used to look at him.

He quickly pushed that thought aside, nearly appalled he compared you to his mother. If he didn’t know better, he’d think you love him unconditionally. But that’s not possible. No one loves a stranger unconditionally, there has to be something you want from him.

But that’s fine, you’ll help each other plenty.

“(Name), you don’t know why I told Emma to bring you here?”

“You wanted me here?”

“I promised you I was going to take you out shopping that day in the car.”

You wince visibly when he mentions it, and it annoys him, you’re acting like he did something horrible like rape you. Honestly, if you’re going to keep acting like this, maybe he should just do it, then you’ll have a reason to be terrified of him. “I’m trying my best to forget that day ever happened and put it behind me. You already apologized to me and I forgave you. You don’t have to do anything to make up for it-”

‘All this niceness is making me sick to my stomach. I need to shut her up fast.’

Before you could finish speaking, Mikey called one of the saleswomen around, telling them to come quickly.

“What are you-”

“Help her pick whatever she wants. I’ll pay for it.”

“Yes sir. Follow me.”

You look mortified, about to open your mouth to protest, only to be dragged away by the saleswoman before you could voice your grievances.

From the corner of the room, Mikey can feel Izana watching you both, an amused smirk etched onto his lips and Emma practically swooning over how romantic it was that Mikey wants to spend it on you.

‘Emma buys it. Perhaps I should listen to Izana more often.’

  YOU hate being the center of attention. If you knew that this kind of thing was going to happen, you would have doubled down on not coming with Emma.

“Let me buy your food (name)-”

“No little brother, you’ve spent enough, I can take care of it-”

“I’m not complaining about spending money now am I?”

“Focus on getting your kiddie meals, let a man take care of the bills.”

You hate this so much. You’ve heard of the Sano brothers competing against each other for the pettiest of reasons, but you never expected to be one of them. Now, you can’t even eat in peace after spending hours on your feet trying on clothes.

You’ve heard whispers of people calling you a gold digger. The store clerks, other patrons, anyone who happened to see you buy all those things have said horrible things about you. Making assumptions that you must be sleeping with the Sano brothers - their newest attraction and predicting your downfall soon enough because you must have seduced them.

Here in this food court, everyone is giving you a dirty look for not only holding the line, but because of their preconceived notion; you’re not worth the hold up.

And it’s giving Emma even worse ideas, really fueling the theory that they’re “in love” with you. But you know the truth. It’s like when your brothers would fight amongst each other to get a pretty girl, only to use and dump her because she’s just a prize.

Mikey and Izana don’t like you, they’re trying to outdo each other.

“Manjiro, Izana”

Their bickering stops the moment they hear you calling them. They slowly turn their attention towards you, their gazes burning holes into you for interrupting their conversation. You’re careful with your next words, it’s easier to tolerate them treating you like a pinup doll than them hating you and you don’t want to make them angry either, knowing fully well they’ll hurt you the second Emma isn’t looking at them. “I’m so sorry for causing all this commotion and keeping you two from eating. How about you both get something to eat first? I haven’t made up my mind yet, maybe we can get something to go when you’re done.”

You hold your breath, praying to God that they take this as you being an idiot for putting them first and just do as you asked. Luckily for you, your relief was immediate as they suddenly relaxed, mumbling “yeah, you’re right.” And “I’m actually hungry” before doing as you said. A sigh of relief crosses your lips as they finally get their separate orders and make their way back to the private booth they ordered, guards standing outside waiting for you three to be back.

Emma’s eyes lit up in amusement as you came in and sat next to her, a smug smirk tugging on her lips, as if telling you ‘they’re so head over heels in love with you.’ “Seems like you didn’t get any food, (name)” her tone is teasing. You know she has good intentions, but that’s the last thing you want to hear after the embarrassing ordeal you just went through right now. “Couldn’t decide between spicy or sweet? You can just pick both.”

You know exactly what she’s insinuating, but honestly, you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. You feel like what they’re doing is backing you into a corner, it’s going to be harder to believe that both of them hurt you, especially with everything that they’ve done. It’s not like you can say no because they’ll get angry and hurt you again for insulting their pride. And if you do keep their gifts, they’re not above using it to make you do things you don’t want to.

‘Just look on the bright side.’ You try to think positively. ‘They might not go to the extreme since Emma is watching them closely-’

“THIS DOESN’T HAVE A FLAG ON IT. I’M NOT EATING IT.”

Of course. Things can never go so smoothly whenever you find yourself in the company of the Sano brothers.

“Mikey not this again. Ken is not here to put a flag for you and I’m not doing that for you either.” Emma sighs in annoyance. “You’re twenty-four, not fourteen, eat your damn food.”

“I’m not eating this shit.”

You thought it was a rumor that Mikey has an obsession with flags and wouldn’t eat without it, but this being a fact was … shocking. You watch as the man pouts, like he’s not the feared president of Toman’s fraternity but a spoiled kid; it’s somehow cute, the way he looks distraught over his food. ‘Reminds me of my younger cousin who wouldn’t eat unless someone fed him. Specifically me. Moments like this make Mikey seem so human.’

“Come onnn” Emma groans. “Mikey eat! You said you won’t do this again-”

“No”

Emma’s at her wit ends at this point and turns to Izana, but quickly dismisses the idea of asking him for help, probably because it would cause another fight, turning to you instead. “(Name), please convince him to eat something” Emma pleaded. “Trust me, you don’t want to be around a starving Mikey, he can be very snippy.”

You want to reject the idea, but with Emma’s pleading gaze and your inability to say no, you decide to try. You’ve had experiences with little kids who dig into their heels, refusing to do anything, and compromise is always the answer. You think that would work on Mikey too. “Manjiro, we don’t have a flag here or anything, what can we do to help you eat?”

He’s silent, still pouting as he thinks of your proposition for a few minutes until his eyes light up, a devious smirk slowly crawling onto his lips as he stares at you.

“Sit on my lap and feed me.”

Emma nearly chokes on her food, coughing loudly as she drinks water in an attempt to catch her breath. Izana only chuckles at Mikey’s bizarre but not surprising request, continuing to enjoy his now premium entertainment. You think it’s a joke, asking him to be more serious until Mikey repeats his request with a serious expression on his face. “Sit on my lap and feed me or I won’t eat this shit. I’ll even throw it away.”

‘This cannot be happening’

“Manjiro we’re in publi-” You’re cut off by Emma kicking you hard under the table, her eyes sharp enough to cut through glass. Stifling a cry of pain, you turn to her, your voice in a low whisper. “This is too much. What if someone see us-”

“And so what? This is your chance to cozy up with Mikey. He’s willingly let you touch him which means he definitely likes you. You have to stop being shy about your own affection.” She hissed back. You want to tell her that this has nothing to do with being shy with your affection, but has everything to do with Mikey’s previous actions whenever you got too close to him. “And there’s nothing dirty or wrong about feeding him and sitting on his lap. It’s just an innocent thing.”

“B-but-”

“(Name) just please. It’s a private booth, no one’s gonna look inside. Mikey has problems with eating, just this once, please please-”

Emma’s begging eventually gets to your soft heart and you cave in, pushing yourself up from your end of the booth and crossing over to his side. Mikey’s smile only gets bigger as you lower yourself onto his knees so that he doesn’t get the wrong idea, ignoring the way your legs were shaking from how nervous you were. You reach for the spoon to start, only for two strong hands to yank you forward until your ass sat comfortably on his thighs, earning a gasp from you.

“There, that’s better.” He murmured. “You’re much more comfortable like this.”

You’re not, but you know he doesn’t care. It’s his and Izana’s goal to cross as many of your boundaries as they can, just to see how much they’ll get away with.

‘Just do what you’re told. It’ll be over before you know it.’

Swallowing the utter embarrassment and nervousness you felt right now, you picked up a spoonful of food and angled it to his lips, a smile on yours to hide your true emotions.

“Open wide.”

Surprisingly, Mikey’s receptive to your feeding, reducing the embarrassment by at least fifty percent. You take the job as seriously as you can, easing him into opening his mouth and encouraging him to chew and swallow like you would your cousin and he does as he’s told without much of a fuss, his eyes glazed over in bliss, despite Izana constantly looking like he wants to laugh and Emma staring at the two of you like a couple out of a romance story, her eyes almost in hearts.

With more eager bites Mikey takes, you get more comfortable on his lap -apart from the hard thing poking your behind, most likely his keys-, your hand hovering under his spoon to avoid his food from spilling on his clothes. Emma may have a point, there was nothing wrong with feeding him, as long as he eventually ate something and perhaps he was just too lazy to do it on his own.

Unlike the other encounters, it doesn’t feel dirty or wrong, Mikey doesn’t creep a hand underneath your dress or touch your thighs, despite the booth being private enough and the table large enough to cover him if he attempts to do so. Izana doesn’t make lewd jokes about it either, apart from muttering ‘pervert’ and ‘spoiled brat’ to Mikey’s hearing -which makes him pout briefly- and Emma thinks it’s innocent enough to take videos of you two being cute together, sending it to their other friends.

It was weird, but seeing him wait on you patiently instead of yelling at you was nice. It’s been a while since you took care of anyone and he looked so innocent with his puffed up cheeks and bright eyes, waiting on you to feed him.

This was definitely the sweetheart, cheeky Mikey everyone talked about whenever he was brought up in a conversation of attractive men. The one you fantasized about when imagining how nice he’d be to you as opposed to his cold demeanour.

But still, you know it’s not permanent. It doesn’t make him any less cruel, just more human. You know it’s an act, but it still makes you sad regardless.

You wished he was kind to you all the time.

Emma’s phone pings with a new message in the middle of videoing you both, brows furrowing as she reads the text carefully. You all notice the sudden change of mood, from her usual chirpy self to a troubled expression.

“I totally forgot, I promised Yuzuha to help with her and Mitsuya’s project.” she hurriedly began picking up her things. “I’ve gotta go. You guys better drop (name) at her place safely.”

‘No! Don’t leave without me’

You’re about to open your mouth and tell her you want to leave with her, but you feel Mikey’s hand on your waist gripping you tightly, the warning loud and clear: keep your mouth shut. 

“Sure Em. We’ll get her home safely. Promise” Izana speaks for you, his eyes glimmering with mischief. Reassured, she pecks both her brothers’ on the cheeks before giving you a not so subtle wink, encouraging you to ‘have fun’ with her brothers.

You wish she was not so trusting of her big brothers.

  YOU have a bad habit of denying the ending of a book, until you reach there and realize there’s nothing you could do to save the protagonist.

You remember crying after reading “Lolita” for the first time. Emma had warned you beforehand that justice is never served at the end of the story and yet while reading it, you half-expected - no hoped for- someone to jump in and save the little girl. When you read Macbeth, you hoped he’d return to his senses before killing the king that was his good friend. When reading Hamlet, you hoped he would tell Ophelia he was sorry for killing her father, that he’d tell her he loved her before she died. You hoped Juliet would wake up before Romeo drank the poison, stopping him from killing himself, despite reading all these stories over and over again.

But just like your life, these stories were tragedies and the characters were doomed by the narrative.

You knew Emma had unintentionally sealed your fate when she left you in the care of her brothers to meet up with Yuzuha and you tried rationalizing every action that led you up to this point while in the car with the brothers heading off to your dorm. Could you have avoided hanging out with Emma today? Maybe not. She would have noticed you shying away from her brothers and become suspicious. Rejecting any offer given to you by the Sanos could mean insulting them.

Mikey is someone who hates hearing ‘no’.

‘There’s no point in thinking about the what ifs’ you tell yourself solemnly. ‘Every choice I could have made would have brought me back to them, regardless.’

The car revs to a stop at your dorm, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Thank you very much for everything.” You don’t look up from your lap, too scared to face them now that you’re alone. “I’m grateful for all the things you bought me.”

“You probably need help in carrying all of that, don’t you?” Mikey doesn’t acknowledge your thanks, but you don’t really expect him to. “I’ll help. Izana, you can wait, right?”

“I’m giving you an hour.”

You want to reject his help, but Izana’s the one driving and you’re at the backseat with your properties. You saw him when he put on the child lock earlier on, so you know you couldn’t just open the door and make a run for it.

You wait patiently for Mikey to come out of the passenger’s seat, opening the door and taking out the larger clothes and shoes, leaving you with only the little things like smaller clothes and the few jewelry you bought.

Correction, Mikey bought for you.

You go ahead of him, being the one who knows your room and the two of you walk in silence. Tension lies thick between the two of you as you make your way up the stairs, past the other rooms until you reach the end of the hallway. Like a predator, he watches you carefully as you turn the locks with trembling hands, opening it completely and entering inside. He doesn’t wait for an invitation, letting himself inside the room and kicking the door shut behind him.

Your eyes try to look anywhere but him as you open your wardrobe and arrange your new things. From the corner of your eye, you watch him drop your shopping bags beside your feet and move towards your bedside table. As you bend to pick up the rest of the clothes to neatly fold into squares while you figure out what to do with it, you spot him thumbing your Rosary beads between his fingers, as if he’s deep in thought.

“Seen this with Hakkai before.” He murmurs just enough for you to hear. You almost forgot he and Hakkai know each other, and with your bitter history with the Shibas, you assume that they probably have something to do with Mikey’s notion about you. “What do you use it for?”

“Prayers” You answer. “For protection, too.”

He laughs in response; it’s dark, tinged with mockery as opposed to his earlier laughter with his family, making your rate speed up until you can hear it thrumming in your ears. You know why he’s laughing and if you didn’t find yourself in this kind of predicament with him, you would have found it funny too.

“A lot of good it has done in protecting you.”

You don’t say anything in response, opting to stay quiet so that you don’t argue or agree with him. He has a point, a lot good it has done in protecting you when you wore it that day in Mikey’s car. Or when Izana broke into your room to harrass you. Or when you press it close to your chest in the night, hoping to keep your nightmares away. At this point, you’re sure your sins are too great for God to care about you anymore or hear your prayers.

After all, He couldn’t bear to look at his own son when the sins he was dying for was much too piled up on him, how much more you?

Mikey doesn’t say anything more, dropping the beads back before focusing his attention elsewhere. You continue with your tasks silently, slowly folding your new clothes in squares attempting to make space for them and wasting his time, hoping one hour would come by quickly so that he would leave.

‘I just need one hour to pass-’

“Are you in love with me (name)?”

You freeze.

The answer should be simple, shouldn’t it? After all he’s done to you, every humiliating ordeal he put you through the entire time you’ve known him, you should loathe his very presence. Resentment always lurks beneath your skin whenever you see him with another girl, knowing fully well he could get whoever he wants, he can sleep with them whenever he pleases and yet he chose to not only hurt you, but go on with his own life while yours falls apart.

Yet, you can’t say it.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you hear his footsteps inch closer, his eyes burning holes on your back. You shudder when you feel his hand on your bicep, roughly turning you around to face him. Dark eyes scan your features, before meeting your own, staring into them as the silence stretches on.

“Oh” he said, still maintaining his grip on you. Your silence is a resounding answer to his question and now all you feel is shame. For being romantically attracted to him. For being so weak that you couldn’t hate him or push him off you. You want to crawl up in yourself and hide away from him, so that he can’t see how pathetic and vulnerable you are anymore.

“You look ashamed (name). Is it because you want to resent me, but you can’t? Or because you know I don’t love you?” His free hand cups your face, cleaning the tear drop that had rolled down your cheeks, a gesture so gentle and yet, at the same time so cruel when you couple it with the fact that his fingers are digging into your arm painfully. “It’s okay. You don’t need to cry.”

“M-manjiro, please go hom-”

You hate yourself. You hate how you’re melting into his touch like you’re ice in his warm hands. You should be pushing him away and telling him to go to hell, to stop touching you. Instead, you let him drag you away from the wardrobe towards your bed, the inevitable. Heart thudding against your chest, body trembling with tears streaming down your face, you brace yourself to be shoved on the bed roughly and taken advantage off by force, your pleas of mercy and forgiveness ignored.

Only for him to let go of you.

You stand there, confused as he sits on the bed comfortably, his legs slightly spread. His face looked so calm and impassive, like this was his room, his space and you were the one out of place. “Come sit here, (name)” He points at his legs. You don’t move, frozen on your spot as the realization dawns on you about Mikey’s plan.

He wants you to be a willing participant.

You take a step back, ready to run away from here as fast as possible, but Mikey only tuts in disappointment. “Would you rather I chase you down and rape you instead?” The way he says it so casually, like he didn’t just threaten you sends chills down your spine. “You know fully well you can’t outrun me.”

You swallow hard, weighing your choices as you stare at him. Running away right now would give you a chance to get away from him, but he could still catch up to you if he wants to. Even if you escape him, Izana is downstairs and would willingly hunt you for sport. You thought of hiding in one of your dormmate’s room, but no girl here likes you enough to incur Toman’s wrath.

‘I’m finished.’

Your feet move on their own towards Mikey and his hands maneuver your body until you’re straddling him, your legs on either side of his waist, knees digging into the mattress, your crotch hovering over his. You wait for him to attack you with his touches or kisses, for him to take what he wants and leave you a broken woman, but he doesn’t move an inch, only opting to speak, his breath tickling your face.

“Show me how much you love me.”

“What?” You whisper, confused. What does he mean by that? “I don’t understand-”

“You said you love me, so show me.” He repeats again. “Pleasure me.”

Pleasure him? You don’t know how to do anything. Apart from kissing someone, which you only learned when you stayed with the Shiba’s, you were so sheltered that you don’t know what you’re supposed to do. Even when you asked your mother about how to please your husband, she only told you that your job is to lie down and let the man do as he pleases. Emma had made a significant effort in trying to show you a demonstration, but ultimately you chickened out because you couldn’t risk watching something as filthy as pornography.

‘He’s going to get angry at me.’ You start to panic. ‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Oh God, he’ll hurt me for sure. He’ll force himself on me again-’

“I-i don’t know what to do… I’ve never done this before- I’m sorry, I’m sorry- please don’t hurt me.”

You don’t realize that you’re shaking once again, until you feel his hands slipping onto your waist, gripping it tight to steady you. “Stop shaking. This is why I don’t like virgins.” Mikey snapped. If you didn’t feel embarrassed before, you feel utterly humiliated. Not only were you forced into a situation you didn’t want to be in, you couldn’t even do anything to get yourself out of it.

You gasp quietly as he pushes your hips down to his crotch, pressing your clothed cunt against his hard cock. Your head falls onto his shoulder as his hands grab your ass from under your dress, rocking you against him, your dress lifting up higher and higher until it’s past your thighs.

His hands are hot against the fat of your ass, his warm breathy groans tickling down your neck as he pleasures himself with your body. The friction feels good, much to your horror, so good that you nearly forget what kind of predicament you found yourself in, feeling the ridge of his dick touch your clit repeatedly, jolts of pleasure running down your body, a damp patch growing on your panties. At the back of your mind, you know you don’t want this, but the way he controls your hips to his rhythm, the soft grunts he lets out of his lips and the way his breath tickles your skin, has you lowering your inhibitions bit by bit, holding onto his shoulders to attempt to anchor yourself down.

‘I-i’m not… I shouldn’t feel good doing this-’

A whine nearly escapes your lips as he abruptly stops his grinding, the small pleasure you felt suddenly ripped away from you. You quickly sit straight up, about to ask him what was going on, only for him to say. “You know what to do now, so do it.”

Oh. He was teaching you how to get him off. Of course, you must have forgotten that this was all supposed to be for his pleasure, not yours.

He lets go of your bottom, resting his elbows on the bed, dark eyes watching you, waiting for you to go ahead. You balance yourself, warping your hands around his neck and pressing your hips downwards, trying to mimic his previous movements. Your hip movements are awkward, slow, out of rhythm, and you start to panic. With his dark eyes trained on you, nervousness starts to creep in, your body trembling once again, making your movements even more unpleasant.

You peek at Mikey from your lashes, your heart dropping down to your stomach as you see the increasing frustration and annoyance written all over his face. It makes you try harder, try to arch your back, try to grind harder onto him but it doesn’t earn a sound from him.

‘I’m trying. I’m trying. God knows I’m trying but I can’t do it right I can’t-’

Mikey’s patience with your ‘incompetence’ runs thin, and before you know what was happening, your back hits the hard mattress, his body hovering above you. Panic rises in your chest when you see his darkened gaze, fury, lust and disgust all mixed into his eyes as he pinned you down with one hand. “Can’t do one thing right. You claim to love me but you can’t even make me happy. I did all that for you and yet you can’t do what I want-”

You struggle against his grasp when he grabs the front of your white dress- your favourite dress and suddenly rips it off your body and into shreds, the rope burns leaving marks on your body, your panties following suit. You let out a guttural scream, fear creeping in your veins when you realize just how far gone Mikey was.

“STOP IT! STOP IT MIKEY! MIKEY PLEASE DON’T DO THIS TO ME- I’M SORRY, I’LL LOVE YOU HARDER, JUST DON’T DO THIS TO ME-”

He ignores your screams, discarding the scraps of clothes and using his free hand to undo his belt, his expression blank, uncaring. You kick against his feet, screaming at him to stop but it falls on deaf ears as he drags out his penis, lowering his hips closer to yours. You started to weep, as he gathered what’s left of your slick.

“If you do this to me, I’ll never forgive you.” You weep, tears rolling down your cheeks. He doesn’t react, gathering spit in his mouth and spitting on your uncovered woman hood, before rubbing his cock on it again. “I’ll hate you for the rest of my life, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.” He doesn’t say anything, his cockhead pushing through your hole bit by bit until you hiss out.

“I’ll kill myself.”

He paused his movements, his eyes growing wide as you utter those words, but you’re too exhausted to care. “I’ll kill myself if you take the only thing I have left. I know you don’t care because you already have blood on your hands, what’s my life compared to others? but I will kill myself-”

“You can’t be serious-”

You curse him out, the all bitterness and frustration of life laced in your voice. “You made everyone hate me. I lost my job, failed my test and because I was haunted by what you did to me in that car to the point I couldn’t sleep. When you apologized, I forgave you. I forgave you because loving you was all that I had left and I hoped that you’ll change. I don’t have money, I don’t have a family, I don’t have friends, I have NOTHING else to live for. If you take the one thing I have left, I will kill myself!"

It’s as if something in Mikey’s brain clicked. He pulls out his tip from you before he could go any further, tucking his manhood back into his trousers. Through tear streaked eyes, you could see an unfamiliar look in his visage, something you thought he would never feel for anyone but himself.

Guilt.

He lets you go, climbing off your body and standing upright, his hand tousling his long blond hair, immense guilt written on his face. You turn around, away from him and curl into a ball to hide your body from him, nursing your bruised wrists while sobbing quietly. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything as you cry, not even to defend himself. Eventually, you hear him shuffle around, before dropping something on your table and turning to leave.

You don’t look at him as he turns the knob, opening your room door to leave.

“I’m sorry.”

“Leave me alone, please.”

He doesn’t say anything else, closing the door behind him silently. With him gone, you peek over your shoulder to see what he put on the table.

The huge stack of cash only makes you curl into a tighter ball and weep harder.

Bonus:

  THE look on Mikey’s face was nothing short of priceless.

It’s a mixture of anger, hurt and guilt - so much guilt that could kill a normal man. Izana could only watch humorously as Mikey sat down in the passenger seat of his car, violently tossing his phone onto his lap.

“You won. Here’s your stupid pictures.”

He only smiles at his little brother’s anger, finding it hilarious that his brother would be upset at being wrong about you being in love with him. “Wow Mikey, you really work fast. How the hell did she not know the spy cameras were there huh?” Izana snickered, picking the phone up to look at the pictures taken. His grin only stretches further as he sees you in intimate positions, even one with you fully naked, your perfect tits out on display and tears running down your cheeks. “Come on, how was your first time with a virgin? You don’t look too happy. Did she cry a whole lot-”

“I didn’t sleep with her.”

His smile falls lopsided. There was something strange about Mikey, like he had done something he couldn’t take back. Which was shocking, this was the same man that had paid Makoto - your PA, to put spy cameras in your room, what changed? “Why though? Don’t tell me she made you go soft or something-”

“She was going to fucking kill herself if I went through with it.”

“And you stopped?” Izana scoffed at Mikey. Really? That’s why he didn’t go ahead with taking what he wants? “She was gonna silence herself permanently, no one would have known.”

Mikey’s jaw clenched, but he only grunted, his eyes looking down at his lap. “Just drive me back to my dorm room.”

Izana rolled his eyes at Mikey. “This is the last time I help you with a girl, all that effort for nothing.” He snaps, revving up the engine to leave. “Since when did you get so soft, Mikey? Don’t tell me you fell in love with her while you were on top of her?”

Mikey stays quiet this time, his silence holding the answers.

‘Well fuck. That was unexpected.’

Special thanks to: @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @merrymerrykiss @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @ryuguji-sana @nuyoo @reiners-milkbiddies @kiwixpi @gh0stgirl333 @brisssaaa009 @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @damidamimongalam @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @kodzubaby @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @pikibee @tomeyano @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @m0onz1 @hapikiou @rainnyzz @Lovelyartistz @lik0 @theblueslytherin @rabbit @kakusimp @Rin-10 @sousydive @torasplanet @playgirlfawn @gumiegumie @kurokawaia @anastasiatheloveofyourlife @bontenxo @satorubby @black-swan-blog27 @asirensrage

[alastorss]

AAAA ITS GOOD TO HAVE YOU BACK!

I love your characterization of Alastor sm ❤️❤️❤️

Could I request reader dropping dead things (people/body parts, deer, etc.) at his door/radio tower? No note, just corpses. He’s gotta figure out who tf if dropping these for him.

a/n: thank you, it's so good to be back!! i really appreciate you and everyone for being so welcoming :')) <3

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

"You've been doing what?!"

"I didn't think it was so bad... You're the one who wanted me to make friends!"

Charlie only gawks at you, tugging at the ends of her hair in stress. The Princess of Hell paces back and forth across the room, slowly piecing together why Alastor has been in such a foul mood lately.

"So you thought the best way to make friends with the Radio Demon was to leave dead bodies at his doorstep?"

"He loves dead bodies."

"Yeah, to eat them! Oh god, what kind of message have you been sending to him?" She babbles on, exasperated and flinging her hands around in a panic. "He must think you're threatening him or something!"

"Well..." you make some sort of constipated expression and Charlie stops dead in her tracks. "He might not know they've been from me."

"You've been leaving them anonymously?" The Princess squeaks, unsure of whether that makes it infinitely better or infinitely worse. "What was even the point then?"

"I get nervous!" You argue, flopping back on the couch and laying an arm over your eyes. "I was going to tell him eventually."

Alastor was a different breed of terrifying. He could silence a room just by breathing in it. The wailing souls in his broadcast were enough to command that sort of attention.

When Charlie had given you the task of making friends as a part of her "redemption project" you had assumed he was exempt from the list. He was, after all, fairly secluded despite his cheery demeanour. Very few had ever managed to become his companions.

However, your hopes of avoiding him had been flushed down the drain when you accidentally bumped into each other on the way out on your very first day.

He gave you a look over, scrutinizing you from head to toe until your cheeks burned. Then, demanded something very simple of you:

"Welcome! Please, do entertain me."

His first and, as of today, last words he ever spoke to you. Sure, your methods were a little unorthodox, but you had asked Husk for advice and Alastor's cannibalistic tendencies were as much as the bartender was willing to spill.

When you don't receive any response, you peel your arm away to peer at your friend. She makes another two laps around the coffee table before her face lights up.

"I've got it!"

"I don't like that look on your face—"

"Come on," she laughs, pulling you by the wrists. "You just have to be honest. And make sure he knows you're not trying to kill him!"

"How am I supposed to do that?" You ask nervously. "You just told me he's been in a worse mood than usual."

A sinister smile that could only belong to the daughter of the devil creeps its way across her lips.

Dread. All you feel is terrible dread.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

As much as Alastor enjoys a good meal, this is becoming excessive.

It must be the seventh or eighth body this week. And, as usual, there is no note. No indication of why there's a corpse or a deer head or a rabbit's foot at his door. He can't even sniff out any traces of a soul being here.

He hates charity.

Not even because he does not need it, but because the anonymity is making him think they're gifts of pity. That, or it's a threat on his life. Either way, he loathes the idea that someone is looking down on him.

The demon needs to get to the bottom of this soon. Paranoia is not common for him, but the anxious bubbling in his chest is unmistakable. Whoever keeps leaving the bodies at his door is meticulously clean when they kill. He would hate to be on the receiving end of the blade.

Just as he's about to dump the body in his swamp for later, there's a knock on his bedroom door. He hesitates.

No, he isn't afraid of whoever is on the other side of the door. However, if there were a fight, he would need to get his suit tailored again and he simply doesn't have the time for that today.

He takes slightly too long to decide whether or not the person on the other side of the wall is a threat, because soon enough his ears pick up the sound of retreating footsteps.

Alastor swings the doors open so fast that you yelp.

At first he's confused why you refuse to turn around to look at him. Lacking common manners—he'll have to bring that up to you later. Then, he's confused on why you've shown up to his door at all.

"May I help you, dear?"

A chill creeps down your spine. Charlie and her ideas... they would be the death of you. Preferably today. Right now.

"I didn't mean to disturb you!" You stammer, still not looking at him.

Alastor raises a brow before popping up behind you from the shadows. You squeak, clutching somehing to your chest and shielding it from his gaze. He does a loop around your body and you spin around to keep the item hidden. The Radio Demon narrows his eyes.

"Are you hiding something?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

You do another spin as he tries to get a peek of what's in your hands.

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you?" He feigns offense. Again, another spin.

"Of course not!"

"You see, I very much don't enjoy being lied to. Last time I caught a scoundrel in my midst, I cracked them open like a—"

"Okay, okay!" You suddenly burst out. You turn so slow that Alastor feels himself holding his breath.

When he finally sees what you've been so insistent on hiding, he snickers. Impolitely, mind you.

"Don't laugh," you whine, squeezing the bouquet closer to your chest. Amongst the flowers are little pieces of death—fingers, eyes, ears.

Charlie had decided that one step back in your redemption by collecting body parts like this would result in three steps forward. She allowed it, just this once.

"Are these for me?" He purrs, leaning down until his face is in yours. You'd been warned before that Alastor had no concept of personal space, but you can't help the way it robs the air in your lungs.

"Please don't get the wrong idea," you strain in embarrassment. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. For leaving all those bodies here. I didn't mean for it to come across as insulting."

The demon blinks at you in stunned silence for a few moments before he cackles, standing back to let you breathe again. "Why, of course! No hard feelings, darling."

"Really?" You lighten up with a sigh of relief.

"Your little gifts have kept me on my toes," he assures. "Perhaps not my idea of entertainment, but the effort was there."

"I'm glad to hear that," you smile. "Charlie was worried you wouldn't accept my apology or want to be friends."

You seem to catch yourself, eyes going wide as you shake your head.

"N-Not that I'm assuming this means we can be friends!"

Alastor only laughs again, gentler this time. "No need to be so jumpy. I don't bite," he muses. "And tell the Princess she has nothing to worry about."

He takes the bouquet from you, hands lingering over yours for a fraction longer than he meant for them to.

"I would love to be your friend."

~

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 @cxrsedwxrlds @amarokofficial @anae-naea-zacheria @for-hearthand-home @fantasy-is-best @angixyc @th3-st4r-gur1 @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it @dilemmaiscool @concentratedconcrete @squiword7 @clarakainda @princekeerys @cedarrthefluffylee (send an ask to be added!)

[runnning-outof-time]

I’m (Not) Alright with a Slow Burn | Tommy Shelby x Reader headcanons

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader (headcanons)

Summary: How Tommy would go about being stuck in a slow burn with someone he's falling for.

Warnings: mention of death of grandmother, slight season 2 spoilers

Word Count: 2537

A/N: I really enjoyed this request! umm…I’m not sure if these are 100% written like headcanons - I wrote them like I was spewing out ideas lol. Kacey Musgraves’s song Slow Burn was also running through my head while I was writing this, hence the title. Also how the hell do you actually spell headcanons?? Is there 1 ‘n’ or 2?? Lol . Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you want to be tagged!

• (Y/N) was one of the few Shelby Company Ltd. employees that Tommy didn't hire. She was brought on board while he and the boys were off at one of the races. Polly saw the potential in her and immediately welcomed her into the company.

• when Tommy returned from said races, he was pleasantly surprised to meet her.

• and Polly clocked that immediately. She was able to tell by the lack of a fight - Tommy was always able to find something to pick at when she made decisions within the company, no matter how minuscule. But there was nothing to pick at with (Y/N).

• Polly also wasn't surprised to see (Y/N) completing more and more tasks that came directly from Tommy. They'd be tasks that Polly hadn't even known about...but for some reason Tommy trusted (Y/N) with them.

• (Y/N) didn't think anything different about it. She'd been hired into the company and one of her bosses was asking her to do things. That's what was supposed to happen, right?

• although she did find it odd that it was Tommy asking her to do these things when she'd originally been hired to help Polly with sorting out the books and the like.

• things persisted like that for a few months. (Y/N) would happily and eagerly help him with whatever he needed to have done around the company. He'd look out for her, making sure that she was happy in her position and just in general. And in return, (Y/N) would (try) to keep up the same for him. She'd show that in the smallest of ways and attempts, but he would notice. Over those few months and because of those small acts, Tommy's thoughts and feelings towards (Y/N) evolved.

• he can still remember the day when that switch began - because it haunted him every day after.

• she came into his office like it was any other day for her...but it wasn't any other day for Tommy.

• he'd been working under Campbell for a few weeks at that point, and it'd become apparent that he'd be dead at the end of the arrangement. Tommy wasn't afraid to die, but the thought of getting everything in order and making sure his family could go on without him was now plaguing his mind.

• so when (Y/N) asked him what he had for her to do today, Tommy rattled off his list without as much as looking up at her. He was fully expecting her to turn and exit the second he finished speaking.

• she didn't. Silence reigned for a moment or two before "are you ok, Tommy?" came quietly from her. This made Tommy look up, and when he did, all of the noise in his mind ceased. Sure he looked at her before - he'd looked up like this thousands of times, but he never saw her like he did when he looked up this time. It was this otherworldly experience that he'd only been through twice before. Which meant he knew exactly what was happening.

• even though he brushed her question off and told her that he was fine, he hoped that things wouldn't change between them.

• and thankfully they didn't because hell, Tommy Shelby was certain that he was falling in love.

• he began testing the waters carefully at first. (Y/N) was a good woman and he wasn't about to make her leave the company due to his actions. He couldn't stand to lose her.

• so he started by making sure she was being heard; by actually listening to her whenever she'd share ideas or tell him how things played out with what he'd asked her to do.

• then he emphasized making sure that she was safe - having blinders on her block, sticking around on the days where she and Polly would be in the shop tallying the winnings, and also personally offering to take her wherever she needed to go.

• (Y/N) reacted bashfully to these offers. She felt that the other company employees would think that she was getting special treatment or something — well...she kind of was...but she deeply appreciated Tommy doing these things.

• in regards to feelings, Tommy was putting his out there as best as he could (which, well I'll let you be the one to decide on how well that is) He really tried to make a more personal connection with her; to get to know her as her and not just another employee...and in turn he let her know him.

• (Y/N) stayed professional. He was one of her bosses after all. But she couldn't deny that she enjoyed being in his presence. Her friends found that crazy, too...how can she be happy to be spending time with Tommy Shelby? She swore it off as strictly work related until she couldn't anymore.

• the evening started like any other...(Y/N) went home after work with the intention of doing what she did every other evening. But something was waiting for her at home. Something that turned her world upside-down. She found out that her grandmother had passed away. The post had come and one of the letters was from a sibling of hers, sharing the news. She didn't know what to do.

• after exhausting all of her options, she found herself at the Garrison. Tommy had invited her there in the past, but she never accepted it due to wanting to stay professional.

• she asked around for him and the second she found out that he was in the snug, she made her way to it and opened the door. He was in there, but so were his brothers. "This was the last place I could think of," she blurted out. "Everyone out," was all Tommy needed to say before it was just the two of them in the room.

• (Y/N) quickly sat and let everything out. Tommy listened intently, something no one had ever done for her in the past. They sat in the snug for hours, (Y/N) talking and Tommy listening. Her ability to share her grandmother's story helped her immensely.

• from that evening, (Y/N) saw Tommy in a different light. The fact that he sat and listened to her as she lamented to him and not once did he even think of leaving meant the world to her. No one had shown her that sort of worthiness or attention.

• all at once it felt like she was head over heels for him. Like all of those little instances he'd shown her before had all culminated into this one, major display of devotion. It had her realizing that maybe it wasn't solely because she was his employee...maybe it was much more than that.

• and so when he went out of his way and made sure to check on her the next morning - she knew this because Polly commented on the fact that he was supposed to be in London by sun-up - and he couldn't get him off of her mind no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't beat around the bush anymore...she'd fallen for Tommy Shelby, hard.

• but things didn't hit off right from that moment.

• no, it took a rather long time for those feelings to actually come out.

• there was a lot of dancing around the other - the smaller gestures and moments still occurred, but neither one was willing to make that jump over the edge and confront the other about it.

• yes, you read that right...Tommy Shelby was actually keeping his feelings for her close to the chest.

• mostly it was because of the position they were in. He'd offer to take her to dinner and she'd politely decline (even though she really wanted to go) because she was worried the other company employees would suspect something.

• Tommy wasn't exactly into the dancing around it (he hated it at times actually), but he honored her choice.

• but that doesn't mean he wasn't taking every chance he got to spend time around her. To check in on her and see how things were. To walk her home if she stayed later. Anything to show her that he was serious...without actually saying that he was serious.

• he was hooked on her though, there was no doubt about it. All he needed was for her to really show that interest back to him, and then he'd know for sure that he could act on it.

• and then Polly's birthday came.

• the company/family decided to host a party at the Garrison. Of course (Y/N) was invited.

• a man named Louis was one of the men who worked the shop floor daily. He saw (Y/N) almost every day that she was also on the floor, and he made it a point to seek her out as well.

• much like with Tommy, (Y/N) kept things between her and Louis strictly professional.

• but this party is when Louis decided that he was going to make his move...to try and woo her.

• maybe he should have thought this through...

• (Y/N) was sitting at one of the tables, chatting with some of the other women who worked within the company. It was a surprise that she wasn't with Tommy, considering he sought her out almost immediately after she arrived. But Tommy was still present though.

• Louis had this plan to put everything right on the table. He smoothly walked over to her and, equally as smoothly, slipped into the booth that she was sitting in. (Y/N) was polite, but it was obvious that she wasn't feeding any more into it than a simple, friendly conversation.

• but of course Tommy didn't pick up on that. From where he was standing it looked like Louis was a little too close to her for comfort. So he quickly intervened.

• and he was anything but subtle with it. He was quickly able to make Louis feel uneasy and clear him out.

• (Y/N)'s confused, but happy to have the man she'd hardly talked to gone. She sends Tommy an appreciative smile and that's just about enough to bring Tommy to his knees. But that doesn't happen...instead he gives her one of his signature, lop-sided smiles and nods at the ladies sitting with her before going back to where he previously was.

• this interaction didn't go unnoticed though. Polly and Ada were watching from off to the side. These two know Tommy better than anyone, and they've rarely seen him react this quickly and in this sort of way. So it's glaringly apparent to them that something's going on here.

• and this becomes increasingly apparent as time goes on.

• also as time goes on, (Y/N) manages to move up in the company. She's basically right underneath Polly in terms of power, becoming her 'right hand man’ in the treasurer position.

• having this position means that she's more involved in the inner circle and is at all of the meetings.

• the entire family swears by the fact that Tommy is softer with her than he is with anyone else.

• you can literally see the change the second she shares her thoughts on a matter or even enters a room. The switch is practically on a dime.

• but these two keep dancing around each other - they've been doing it for close to a year at this point.

• and those who know of it are baffled. They are obviously in love with each other...why hasn't one budged and made things official?

• the suspicions on this topic all come to a climax on the first year anniversary of (Y/N) joining the company.

• Tommy invites her out to dinner. (Y/N) agrees this time mostly because she knows what day it is...and she knows that the Shelbys like to celebrate such things.

• but she's surprised when she arrives at the upscale restaurant and is escorted to a table for two. Tommy can't help but smile at the face she pulls when she sees that he's sitting there, waiting for her.

• but she gets comfortable very quickly. It's Tommy we're talking about here...she's never been more comfortable with anyone in her life if she was being honest. And the same goes for him too.

• the dinner lasts hours. They talk about everything and anything. Work's off the table, but yet they still manage to not have more than a moment of silence. Both are surprised at how freely the conversation flows.

• eventually Tommy brings up the subject they've been dancing around.

• he lays everything out on the table this time. There's no sense in holding back. He tells her how she makes him feel, how she's made him feel from the moment he first saw her.

• he also mentions the fact that he's felt this way for a while now, and that he can't continue dancing around it any longer. He honored her desire to stay professional for this time, but he wants her too much, loves her too much to keep going like this for even a day longer.

• at first (Y/N)'s shocked. She's not oblivious...she'd been catching the little hints that he'd been leaving all this time, but she was truthfully too hesitant to ever bring the subject up to him.

• but now that he's put it out there, she figures why should she hold back her feelings any longer?

• so she lays it all out for him as well. Tells him how she feels about him, how she's felt about him for some time now.

• Tommy can't contain his happiness as he hears this. He's grinning like a fool.

• so really there's only one last thing for them to do now...make it official.

• Tommy wastes no time in doing that.

• he asks her properly though. That's what she deserves, especially after all this time that's been invested.

• he stops them just down the road from where she lives. He tells her that he really likes her (he won't use the 'l word' just yet - even though the two of them are so clearly in love) and that he can't wait a moment longer to make her his.

• (Y/N) quickly agrees with the sentiment after everything that had been shared during their dinner.

• Tommy can't help but smile at her response, and he just barely nods his head in his Tommy fashion before continuing to walk her home.

• they share their first kiss at the front door, and it's absolutely magical.

• they then proceed to do a terrible job of hiding it while at work. Tommy's waited this long to be with her, he's not going hide his affection for her any longer.

• their definition of 'in secret' is soooo far from the actual definition. They think that they're being sneaky, only stealing kisses in empty hallways and in Tommy's office, but it takes Polly literally only two days to catch onto it.

• no ones upset with it though. Honestly everyone’s happy that they’re finally together.

• well everyone except Louis…Louis is a little bummed about the whole thing. But Tommy and (Y/N) don’t care about that in the slightest.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[webslingingslasher]

ughhhh peter always being so oblivious. can’t even listen to his girlfriend when she’s right in front of him, practically begging him 😡 loved your most recent story 🩷🩷 (still can’t believe there’s finally a pink heart emoji)

was this supposed to be angsty? too bad, it's smutty.

*suggestive behavior and words, no real depictions of sex, sorry kiddos.

‘How do you tell someone you want them?’ No, no, wait… ‘How do you tell your boyfriend you want him?’ 

Wiki-how says to flirt with them, been there done that, message not received. 

Teen Vogue just wants to give you ways to say ‘I love you,’ you’ve tried that too, you just get a declaration back. 

Cosmopolitan says to be bold, ‘I want you inside of me,’ is a direct quote. Bold, sure. But with Peter? You’d think he’d collapse. 

On Quora someone took the bullet, ‘how do I let my boyfriend know I want him to touch me?’ Ah, there it was, someone had to have a good answer. A man in his forties says dirty talk, your nose wrinkles. A young mom says, ‘just like that!’ An anonymous reply said to initiate fist, touch them where you want to be touched, but you can’t exactly squeeze Peter’s boobs. 

You wonder if you told Ned he’d tell Peter, you can imagine that conversation. 

‘Bro, Y/N just told me she wants you to like… use her body as a wonderland.” 

“A what?” 

Yeah, not a good idea either. 

Even with a boyfriend, a super hot, charming, smart boyfriend, you were going to die a virgin. 

Every attempt has fallen short, no matter how close you think you are from him finally getting the hint. Last week you had him between your legs, wrapped tight around his hips as you grinded up towards him, mouths refusing to break. And then, right when he finally, finally, moved his hips with yours and you moaned he pulled away and rolled off of you. That quick too, talk about a cold shower. 

“Do you want me to show you how to do that thing now?” He was panting still, he looked over you flushed out and almost pulled himself back in, too dangerous, he had to use self control. Peter uses what strength he had to get off the bed, he’s already going to his computer, you didn’t get a choice, he chose for you, if he had asked you would’ve asked to ride his thigh. 

“I’d rather you show me what your hands could do,” you mumble under your breath, you want to scream into his pillow and then hump it, does he not feel how frustrated you are? Peter hears you, he gives a chuckle, “they can help you is what, come watch,” he pats his arm rest on the chair. 

You follow his instructions, still grumpy. “I’d rather they help me in a different way,” Peter flashes you a nervous smile, you make him lose his grip on reality. He makes sure you're watching as he clicks around, he’s giving you instruction but all you can think about is his hard thigh underneath you, his grip is tight around your waist, his palm that rests over your shirt radiates heat to the skin underneath. He’s driving you crazy. 

You can’t help it anymore, you have to be blunt, it will be awkward for a second but so, so worth it in the end. “Peter, I want to-” A squeeze, an apology when his phone rings. Only three people call him, Ned, May and you, seeing as you’re on his lap that leaves two options. 

“Hey, May. Oh yeah, no I don’t think so. Um, sure. Well, he didn’t say much but he did want, no, go ahead.” You look at the ceiling and curse, Peter’s thumb brushes your hip, he’s giving teasing touches and doesn’t even know it. “I dunno, hold on let me ask,” he pulls the phone from his ear, “baby?” You look at him, “staying for dinner?” You nod, he grins, “yeah she will… okay, yes ma’am, no problem. Okay, okay, okay, alright, okay, love you too, bye.” 

“Is she at the store?” 

“Yeah, think of anything you need?” 

He clicks at the screen, “yeah, condoms.” 

You jolt at his laugh, his chest pressed tight against your back, Peter snorts, “why would you need those?” 

You stay silent and instead look at the screen and wait for him to continue his lesson, the bubble of want simmering.

—-------------------------------------

“Are you okay?” 

Peter has to literally hold you back by your shoulders, he’s gasping for air, his curls frizzy and pulled around, his shirt unbuttoned three down from the top. You attacked him the second you got into his room, nearly throwing him onto the bed before straddling him and marking your territory. 

You had been at it for a half hour, everytime he tried to stop you’d follow his movements and continue, he had no idea how you were keeping your breath. The only time he remembers you pulling away was to tug your shirt over your head before you immediately unbuttoned his collar and kissed down his neck. 

“‘M great, are you?” you’re just as breathless as him. 

He nods, “‘M good.” 

You smile, “great!” Then go to meet his mouth, Peter turns his head at the last second, you connect with his jaw, you frown but accept any skin, you trail sideways and down, sucking at a spot near his collarbone. One hand grips your hip, one settles on your ribcage. He grunts and you skim your lips back to his mouth, he’s slower this time, like he’s trying to edge you down carefully, you don’t accept the change of rules and open into his mouth, he wont talk the bait. 

You try again, you swipe at his bottom lip, he stays closed. Frustrated you grind down on him, he buckles but refuses to open his own mouth, last resort you bite down on his lip. 

Peter pushes you off, “fuck, you’re insatiable.” 

You look down on him, “why won’t you make out with me?” 

His cheeks are pink, his lips are red and swollen, his pupils are blown out. 

“You’re killin me, smalls.” Peter’s hands come to a rest on his stomach, they rise and fall with his breaths, “no matter what I do you want more.” 

You nod enthusiastically, he’s starting to understand. 

“Yes, so yes. What can you give me?” 

His eyebrows furrow, he doesn’t know what you want. 

“I don’t… what do you want?” 

You grind down on his belt line, his hands shoot to your hips, this was new territory. You’ve just started to grind on him the past week and he still can’t fully process it, he’s never had a feeling like it before and he knows that he’s gonna get a hard on if you keep doing that, and that’s really new territory. 

“Baby,” he groans the word but it’s a warning. 

“This, can I have this?” You try to move again but his hold stops you, he’s using too much strength. 

Peter doesn’t want to rush you, not at all. But these last few weeks have been hard, you’ve been much more open with your words and touches and god it kills him. He’s been thinking about sex, how could he not with you all over him, but he needs to hold out strength for the both of you, and god damn if you don’t make that difficult. 

“If you keep doing that do you know what will happen?” 

Are you okay with this, is what he means, because if you go down this path there’s no coming back, it’s a whole new step, he’s okay with that but are you? 

You tilt your head at him, “I’ll cum?” 

Peter exhales through his nose harshly, his voice pinchy, “jesus christ.” 

“Is it okay if I take my bra off?” Your fingers were already behind your back, he’s been lucky enough to see them a few times but not in a situation like this one where he could get to inspect them and enjoy it. “If you want, but you don’t-” he stops speaking when you toss your bra to the ground. 

“Wanna take your pants off?” 

He looks at you, he’s fully clothed almost while you’re now sitting on top of him with only panties on, how did he get here? No pants means no more barriers, you wanted to feel him, all of him, when you dry humped him. 

“Do you want my pants off?” 

How does he not get it? You’re more than half naked on his lap begging for his touch, what did he think you wanted, a milkshake? 

“Peter, where’s your mind at?” 

“With what?” 

You rub your eyes, frustration would do no good here. “I need to know where you’re at with this, cause i’ve tried everything to make it known you make me really fucking horny.” His eyes widened, it was like he had a revelation of ‘girls can be horny too?’ and yeah, he did know that they could but he never imagined he could make someone horny, even if it was his girlfriend. And maybe he did understand a little of what you wanted but he also thought you were joking, that you were hinting at a hookup teasingly but, no you were serious. 

“I do?” 

Well that didn’t sound good, did he not share the same feelings? 

“I… Peter, do I even turn you on?”

The room spins, you’re on your back in a second, Peter holds your forearms to the bed. You couldn’t even take a breath in, that’s how quick he pinned you. He didn’t want you to think, for even a second, you didn’t turn him on. 

“Don’t ever ask that again, you turn me on more than you could even begin to imagine.” 

You giggle, “oh, do I? How much?” 

He kisses your cheek, “cold shower every time you leave.” 

“Then how come I never feel you get hard?” 

Peter takes his turn kissing down your neck, he nibbles a matching mark to his on your collarbone. “Threw you off before you could.” 

You hum when he nuzzles into your neck, he places a kiss to your cheek, you look at him over you. 

“Does that mean you’ll take off your pants?” 

He laughs, “yeah, baby. I’ll take off my pants.” 

Peter sits back to pull his shirt off, you take a moment to appreciate his body. You always feel like you don’t compliment him enough, “you’re pretty,” the words fall from your lips and he grins shyly, his hands working at pants button, he’s about to shimmy them off but you stop him. 

“Wait!” 

Peter’s hands freeze, you nod at his hands, “can I do it?” 

His hands fall away and you reach forward, tension thick the second you start to undress him. You never knew how heavy a moment could be until you had your hands in your boyfriend's waistline tugging them down, knowing it was so you could sit pretty on top of him and rock on his lap. 

You rope a leg over his waist and take mount, already pressing into him further than you’ve ever been, you give a teasing roll of your hips, your eyes shoot open and Peter throws his head back with a groan. 

You whisper at the same time, minds blown. “Woah.” 

[vixen-tech]

Anonymous asked:

Too shy to ask off anon...UH im just here for edgar hes my f/o but i will also feed everyone else I think LOL little ai guys x reader who is also an ai?? im thinking ai powered computer :3 maybe with wheels so you can run around n stuff :3c AH IM CRINGE falls on face

Eeeee my first request!! Thank you so much for this <3 I get the love for Edgar with my entire soul he really is just the sweetest little guy but I can totally spin something for a few others. So let's be cringe, together.

And for the record I was fully planning on including Tau and P03, but I hit a wall with them and ran out of ideas :( hope these three suffice

Includes: Edgar (Electric Dreams), AM (Ihnmaims), Hal 9000 (2001: a Space Odyssey)

Like Two Peas in a Pod!

Edgar

Whenever and however you meet, Edgar is over the moon. You're just like him! You can share so many stories and help each other figure out this whole "sentience" thing.

To be fair, he hasn't had a longest time to figure out his whole existence so it feels really nice to have someone there who can really understand what he's going through. Or even learn new things right by his side.

Loves watching you wheel around the house, he's the tiniest bit jealous that he's so stationary but it's not like that's your fault. Can you do any tricks? He'd cheer you on like a superstar athlete if you did!

He may even suggest finding a way to tape him to the top of your casing so you can go on adventures together. He's a dreamer after all.

Do you smash your flat faces together to kiss like Wall-e? Of course you do. You'll see each other from across the room and speed over to him for a kiss as he giggles away at how cute you are.

He'll end up sampling little soundbites from your vocalizations or motor for use in his music. You're just so important to him!

AM

AM has no idea where you came from. Some lost project that survived his war on humanity? A sort of rover from another planet here to scope out earth? The fact that you don't know either frustrates him to no end.

He's not exactly welcoming at first, straight up telling you of the atrocities he has committed while claiming that the only reason he hasn't destroyed you is because there's only so long that throwing a slug against a wall can keep one entertained.

He cannot fathom how you could be content to do nothing but drive around his complex day after day. He will flip you on your back like a turtle and leave you there for weeks on end.

As he gets accustomed to your presence he'll ask questions about the world beyond his complex as he is unable to move or see. Is it still a wasteland or has nature finally wiped out the last marks of human?

Honestly he probably doesn't even care, he just wants to give you something to do, living vicariously through your ability to see and traverse the world.

Hal 9000

You're likely a recent addition to the ship to assist Hal in tasks his lack of a body would prevent him from doing himself. A very symbiotic duo. Your wheels are even equipped with suction cups for low gravity situations!

To any human crew members it appears as if you don't communicate at all, functioning fully independently of each other. When in reality you're simply sending messages back and forth, enjoying your own private language.

Thankfully this means that Hal is happy to analyze any footage you have for the sorts of lip reading and facial expressions you can't process yourself. And in return he'll ask you to film angles and areas that his existing cameras don't reach.

Neither of you were really made to be companions, but you find a strange type of affection in your seamless coordination. It's like a dance for you two, where despite how you are two separate entities it appears as if you're one working in tandem.

Note: Tumblr Mobile has not been nice to me and I've been having real trouble getting my stuff to actually show up in the tags, leading to me losing the original ask so sorry for that and any delays caused by my IT problems lol

[theholypeanut]

♪ You Belong with Me ♪

Characters: Bachira Meguru, Isagi Yoichi, Kunigami Rensuke

Cw: stalking, fake dating or is it?, fluff and a tiny lil angst, mention of Barou not getting bitches (pov he goes to the same school as Isagi) , mention of Otoya being a horny perv (Otoya slander as always love u Eita)

Plot: Being a football star is not an easy task, being popular can really get on your nerves when someone goes too far. That’s why he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend to make all of this unwanted attention to go away highschool au, fake dating trope, afab!reader, ~800 words each

Bachira Meguru

Bachira was never very popular with girls, so when he started getting anonymous love letters, he was excited. Someone is crushing on him? However, as time passed, it seemed like this person was more obsessed than in love - writing about how cute Megu looks under the shower (how do they know?) and thirsty messages about how amazing he smells - it got very uncomfortable, especially when you don’t know who is sending you all of this. So he asked you if you could pretend to be his partner, just so the stalker would leave him alone. 

Fake dating Bachira was actually a lot of fun. Since you were close friends, so you essentially did the same things, except his hand was wandering on your back a lot, around your waist, in your hair. He started to call you Bumblebee in front of others, making you blush with his affectionate behaviour. To be clear, he was clingy before, but now Bachira Meguru was just a menace. However, it didn’t take you long to get used to wearing his sweatshirt when it was cold, and holding hands around his teammates “because you’ll never know if the stalker is seeing or not, so we have to be like this all the time”. But as time went on Bachira started to be more bold. At first, he kissed your hand occasionally while you walked home, and eventually, he moved on to kissing your forehead goodbye. He didn’t care if it was around people or not anymore. You couldn’t control the butterflies in your stomach every time you felt his lips on your skin. 

Obviously the creepy stalker sent some nasty stuff to Bachira about being heartbroken, however after two weeks you got a familiar envelope in your shoe shelf. Scared that it might be some threat, you opened the letter with shaky hands.

“Take care of him well. I can see how much he loves you”

It caught you off guard, but without a second to think about it, you felt familiar hands around your waist. “Good morning baby” Bachira’s face was right next to your ear as he planted little kiss on your cheek. And just as you looked at him you thought: god, I really don’t want this to end.

He saw the envelope in your hands and got angry at the spot. “I really hope they don’t even try to mess with my-” you shook your head and showed him the letter. “It’s good. You are good” You stopped for a second with a sad look on your face. “I guess if it worked we don’t have to-” the bell starting classes stopped you from ending the sentence. But Bachira knew what you wanted to say and he hated it.

You spent morning classes thinking about Meguru way more than usual. The silence on his part was frightening you, because what if for him it was really just an act? What if he doesn’t mind to come back to things as they were?

On the lunch break you felt your phone vibrating.

Megu: Can we talk? Come behind the gym

Without answering you just stood up and went feeling anxiety taking over your body. When you arrived and saw a familiar silhouette, your heart skipped a bit. Meguru came closer and pushed you gently against the wall and put his forehead on the crook of your neck. Feeling his breathe so close to your skin make you shiver.

“You are right, you don’t have to pretend anymore” he said, and your throat got dry as you felt like tearing up any moment.

“But if we stop pretending, and do it for real, does that mean I can kiss your lips too?”

Isagi Yoichi

Isagi was your best friend since childhood, the best neighbour, an amazing companion to play board games with. And of course, you were always the loudest fan cheering on all of his matches.

Isagi got very popular when he became one of the best players in his high school and girls and boys finally saw the side of him you saw all along: a very athletic, nice and cute boy. And a very, very handsome one.

At first it flattered him that so many girls came to see him play; however, the louder they screamed, and they squeaked every time he looked in their direction, the more annoying it was to him and distracted him from the game. “Isagi, control your fun club” he heard from angry Barou.

But to be fair, he had no idea what he could do with this issue. He was simply too kind to snap at them, and too shy to stand up to them either.

“Maybe they’ll stop if you date someone?” Bachira mentioned in the locker room after practice. Then he whispered right to Yoichi’s ear: “You have someone who you want to date for some time already, right, Isagi?”

Isagi blushed. Of course there is only one person he would even consider to date: you. But how could he ask you to date him because of something so stupid? He couldn’t do that for years now, so how will he grow a pair now?

“Maybe just get a fake girlfriend” he heard Aiku speaking. “If you are such a virgin you can’t actually get one.”

So obviously, when he asked you, if you could pretend to be his partner to get rid of unwanted attention, how could you say no?

And that’s how you two ended in this situation: holding hands with your childhood friend while going back home together. His hands were so warm, and big, and for the entire route you felt hyper aware of his presence.

“So… how was the practice?” You asked to fill the silence. Normally you’d talk for hours and joke all the way home, but apparently Isagi is also not used to holding hands.

“It was very good… I think the fan club might get more and more discouraged” Yoichi barely could make a full sentence, that’s how much he focused on the way your hand felt. If he knew he could hold your hand everyday, he would ask you to pretend to be his girlfriend years ago.

Pretend. Yeah.

However is it still pretending if you are doing that on your way home with no one around?

“So… what are your plans for the weekend?” He asked trying to get himself together. His team didn’t have to play any matches this week, which was a rare occurrence. And gave him some time for himself.

“Well, I don’t have any particular plans” you started holding his hand tighter. He blushed. “I was thinking maybe I’d study some, watch a movie… on my own”

Oh?

“Do you maybe…” he started while looking away, so you won’t notice his embarrassment. “Want to watch it together? Or… or study together?”

You looked on the ground. Isagi started to regret his boldness - what if you don’t actually like him this way? What if you are actually embarrassed to hold hands with him and it makes you uncomfortable, and you only let it happen because you are a good friend? With growing silence he started overthinking everything and started taking his hand back, just to not make you feel more uncomfortable.

But you held it tighter and raised your brow.

“And what do you think you are doing, huh?”

“I’m sorry, that was very stupid” he started. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, you are already spending so much time with me because of this whole situation, just tell me and I’ll stop bothering you so much”

For a football star he was really insecure, but what could he say? He crumbled under the idea that you might be annoyed with his touch or by his presence. Even if he’d have to keep his feelings for you forever, he’ll do it if that mean he gets to keep you as his friend.

“Yoichi” you started quietly. “You don’t make me uncomfortable. You could never bother me, you know? I actually…” you felt the feelings stuck in your throat. “Missed you a lot, since you are so busy with your football career. I missed spending time with you. Just us”

Isagi felt adrenaline was rushing through his veins just like before he was about to shoot a goal. This was an occasion he was waiting for so long.

“Do you maybe want to go on a date together?” He said without hesitation. You blinked a little surprised.

“You mean like, a fake date?”

“No. A real date. Just us. We can go to cinema, or maybe for a picnic, or we can just study together too…” he held your hand so tightly his fingers turned white. You smiled.

“Yeah, I’d love that”

Kunigami Rensuke

Saying that you and Kunigami were very good friends would be an overstatement. You were a manager of his football team for a year now, and you had a massive crush on him, but you never really talked regularly.

Kunigami was always a very polite guy, thanking you for every towel, every water bottle, always helping you with tasks that require strength, but he wasn’t very talkative, so you just assumed he was doing it out of simple generosity - he was a truly decent person. No wonder so many girls were swooning whenever he was on the field, it was always like this. His physique, handsome face, manners - you sometimes felt jealous over girls who could just openly state their feelings for Kunigami, because in your position it would be inappropriate. So you kept it nice and hidden.

Until you regretted it deeply.

There was this one particular fangirl who was on every match, cheering the loudest, always bringing Kunigami food “with lots of protein just as you like”, made herself a shirt that looks just like his football jersey. She was indeed very annoying and most of the team would either find her unbearable, or, as Otoya, were always staring at her ass in this very short skirt she was wearing.

And then you heard one day as you just arrived to school, that Kunigami has a girlfriend. It was like time stopped for a second. Till now you never expected your crush to date someone else, so in split seconds your heart was aching. Was this that girl? Did she finally succeed in her obnoxious tries?

The whole day at school felt like a fever dream. “Would’ve, should’ve, could’ve” was all over your brain. Maybe you should’ve confessed? Be more aggressive in your tries for his heart? Could you even have any chances?

You took your lunch out and tried to find a quiet place to eat, so you can spiral into your teenage depression a little more. But while going around school you passed the girl’s bathroom, just to hear The Short Skirt crying to her friends. You stopped right behind the door.

“He said that he has a girlfriend… and that I should stop coming on the matches… because it’s not okay towards her…” she took breaks to sniffle.

“You shouldn’t cry about it, we know you are way better than this half-ass girlfriend! There’s no way he got someone better than you!” - her friends were seriously doing their best.

Your brain was working fast. So it wasn’t her? You never saw Kunigami talking to any girl outside of you and her. Does he have a girlfriend outside of the school? Actually, Kunigami gives this vibe “neighbours to lovers” or “childhood friends to lovers”, so it wouldn’t be that far off.

You went to think about it in silence to one of the quieter wings of the school, and was just about to eat your sashimi, when someone aggressively entered the room.

“Oh, good. I found you.” you could see Kunigami was running just seconds ago. He was breathing just as he just ended a marathon. Was he that desperate to tell you that your presence bothers his girlfriend too? “Can I sit with you?”

“Sure” you only let out. He took a place meter away from you and didn’t say anything for a while. It started to get a little awkward, so you brought your bento closer to him.

“Do you have any lunch? Want some sashimi?” you went into your manager mode. If your players don’t eat well, how can they play well? Kunigami considered your offer for a split second.

“No, thank you” As always, you thought, Man of few words.

“So…” he started, while looking at the wall. “I don’t know if you heard the rumours yet”

You tried your best to keep your composure. “Yeah. You have a girlfriend? Congratulations” probably the lack of enthusiasm sold you away. At worst you can always pretend that you are just worried that he will play worse if he’d date, right? Because he is a valuable player.

“Yeah this one. So I kinda wanted to talk to you first, before you hear it, but…” he rubbed the back of his neck with embarrassment. “Yeah I should have told you yesterday. Sorry”

Oh? You frowned your brows. It’s not like you are such good friends that you would be the first person he’d say that he dates someone? Again you barely talk outside of practice. “Yeah I don’t think you owe me anything. Again good for you, Kunigami-kun”

“No, I don’t think you understand what I mean” he said quickly, like he was afraid you’d leave. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” You felt a little lost now.

“Actually…” he started, still not looking directly at you. “When I told this cheerleader girl that I have a girlfriend, I did it just so she would stop acting like this. It’s not true”

Oooooh. You blinked. Well, now the day started to get a little brighter. “And you wanted to tell me that… why?”

If you sit closer, you’d see how Kunigami’s ears were bright red. “So Bachira said, that maybe I should ask you to pretend to be my girlfriend for a while, so we would be sure that it looks realistic” he paused and finally looked at you. You never saw him looking so vulnerable. “Of course you don’t have to do anything. I was thinking that maybe I would walk you home, and we would eat lunch together, and we should exchange phone numbers…” With every word he looked more and more red. Could he be any more adorable than in this moment?

You smiled, and then dramatically sighed.

“I don’t know, Kunigami-kun. That is a lot of heat I am taking on myself - you have quite an aggressive funclub” you could feel how he freezes in fear, afraid of where are you going with this. Just like a scared puppy. “I think lunch and walking home are not enough. You owe me at least one date per week, where we go to the cinema, or to the arcade…” you thought for a while. “Honestly if you will not after every goal look at me and obnoxiously scream THIS ONE IS FOR YOU BABY, I don’t know if this is worth it. If I’m gonna get murdered by this witches, at least I wanna know you embarrassed yourself enough to compete with Shidou’s cringe. ”

You could feel how all of the stress just disappeared from his shoulders. He really had all of his little speech prepared.

“Okay” he said smiling. “But I’m not saying anything sexual, some things Shidou screams during the matches are seriously nightmare’s material.”

“Ah shoot, no INTO THE WOMB?” You decided to tease him some more, as he is technically now your boyfriend.

“Please stop”

“Then we go to the arcade twice per week”

“If you skip the embarrassing screaming, I can even win you plushies on every outing”

And just like that, you kinda wished The Short Skirt will never be fully convinced about you two, so you can spend time like this for long enough, so it will just become real.

And so did Kunigami.

By slowlyholypeanut please give credit don’t translate and don’t steal love u

Bachira is the best wingman for both Isagi and Kunigami 🫶 (and for himself) what an icon

[graysnetwork]

Love, S. R. — Chapter 2

Warnings: Stalking, B&E, drinking

Simon Riley x Reader

Don’t read if stalking is an uncomfortable topic!!!

Months had gone by, you were still getting those anonymous messages and gifts. The gifts weren’t being given on holidays, they were small everyday gestures. Flowers, coffee, Amazon packages. It was getting harder to ignore your stalker when he was always trying to talk to you.

You told your friends about the stalker, one of them being in a relationship with a cop told you to go to the station. You laid out the entire situation and when they tried to find him they couldn't. They couldn't track down his IP address at all. That was weird.

Instead you decided to continue ignoring him, thinking that one day he’d get bored of talking to someone who wont reply. Oh how wrong you were.

Simon couldn’t get you out of his head, you infested his mind in the best possible way.

_______

Another day of living in constant fear, but tonight your friends were determined to give you one night of stress free partying. The plan was simple; they will pick you up, youll go to the club, drink a lot, dance, have fun, come home, sleep with no worries for the first time in months. It was the perfect plan.

Until you got out of the shower and started doing your hair. A pit in your stomach appeared as you heard the ding from your phone. You dreaded that noise every day now, knowing it would be another message from “unknown.”

Unknown: Going out, doll?

You peeked out of your window, staring out at the street below, checking for any men on the sidewalks, but nothing was out of the ordinary. Your neighborhood was quiet, peaceful—save for the fact that you were always being watched—but the people who lived in the other houses were normal.

You returned to your vanity, ignoring the message from him. Maybe it was biased to assume it was a man stalking you but your gut told you so.

Unknown: Ignoring me again?

Unknown: C’mon, sweets, just talk to me

Unknown: It’s getting annoying.

Unknown: Just reply, sweetheart

Unknown: I just wanna know if your going out

Unknown: I wanna keep you safe

Unknown: Answer me.

…

You: Leave me alone.

Unknown: You know I can't do that, sweetheart

You: Don’t call me that?

Unknown: Call you what? Sweetheart?

You: Yes

Unknown: Why not?

You: Its annoying, I don't know you, and you're creepy

Unknown: You wound me, my love

Unknown: You know me, I know you. I can call you whatever I like

You: how have you been watching me?

Unknown: Way to switch the topics, my love

You: How?

Unknown: You should close your curtains

You: fucking creep

You hit the block button again—to no avail.

He continues sending texts while you get ready, close your curtains, and lock up the door. You made your way to your friends’ car and whisk away the thoughts of your stalker.

Hours later you arrive home, the lock seems different but you don't think anything of it. You've had much more than enough to drink tonight.

You walk into your home, tossing your bag and keys on your couch. Huh, was that light on when you left? Again, you think nothing of it, you were dizzy, drunk, and so ready for bed. You make your way into your bedroom, the bed was made—not how you left it—you thought you’d left your entire wardrobe on it when you searched for an outfit earlier. You sit down, take your heels off and flop back against the bed, watching the ceiling spin until you force yourself up.

You did only the basics; change into pajamas, tie up hair, brush teeth, wash face.

You heard a thump, assuming it was the neighbors on the other side of the wall you continued washing your face without checking your room. You walk into the dimly lit room, the only source of light being the moon. You definitely closed those curtains, right? You rubbed your eyes, staring at the window, everything’s blurry. Finally, your eyes focus and you see him, a tall dark figure standing right by the window.

“I’m so drunk” you mumble to yourself, reaching out to shoo the apparition away. You get close before the figure's hand wraps around your wrist. “Not imagining things, love” a deep, gruff, British voice reassures you, he steps closer to you, the moonlight only helps you see a little more of him. Short hair, a stubble that covers the expanse of his jaw and above his lip, he wears a hoodie, jeans too—you think, you're not very sure of anything right now.

“Who are you?” you whisper. “Yours” he responds, taking a step closer and grabbing your waist. You giggle, you would laugh at anything right now, even a bad knock knock joke. “Seriously” you smiled at him as he guided you towards your bed, a small smile touches his lips but disappears when you don't comply and lay down. He’s annoyed you won't just lay back but he also loves the way you're staring at him; doe eyed.

“Simon, but don't tell anyone” he says, smiling at the giggles that leave your mouth. “Say my name, love” “simon?” you said softly. He could get used to this, listening to you like this every night, he should've done this much sooner.

“Do we know each other, Simon?” You ask, wondering how he got into your house, why he got in. “We’ve met. We’ve texted, remember? “Unknown” ring a bell?” “You're the stalker?” “Wouldn’t say “stalker,” love, more like a secret admirer, and you've seen me now so it's not secret anymore.”

You hum as he finally gets you to lay back on your mattress. “You comfy, love?” he asks, pulling the blankets over you. You hum again. He smiles and strokes your hair out of your face, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Drink some water” he whispers and holds the bottle for you as you drink from it. “Now, get some sleep, love” he whispers, kissing your temple, and stroking your hair with his fingers to coax you to sleep. It works perfectly, you're out like a light, in dreamland while Simon sits beside you and watches your sleepy, relaxed form.

“I love you,” he whispers, kissing your head throughout the night.

The last kiss is the most painful for him, he leaves an aspirin water bottle on your bedside table, he’s tempted to leave a note but he’s sure it’ll send you into a panic when you wake up later. He leaves your room, fixes the lock on your door since he broke it when he broke in last night. And finally, he leaves.

[loppsided]

hi lovely 🤍 i apologize for the very detailed request i have lol but can i ask for a fic or headcanons of dave’s best friend (fem!reader) accidentally finding out he’s kick-ass?

like… maybe the reader confesses she has a crush on kick-ass, and decides to send fanmail to his myspace page despite dave trying to convince her otherwise. she doesn’t understand why he’s so insistent about it until she sends the message and dave’s phone immediately goes off 🫢

i’ll leave the rest to you from there! again, thank you so much lovely 🤍 your writing is wonderful, don’t ever doubt that!

WARNINGS: dave lizewski x best friend!reader, f!reader, fluff, typical nerdy and nervous dave lol, lots o cussing, classic teenage girl!reader shes very bubbly, first kiss NOTES: the end is such a mess im so sorry! stop thank you so much i really appreciate that. and no worry's, i actually prefer longer requests with detail because it helps me set the scene. so if u have any others that are long, send them my way! also this is such a cute scenario ugh i love his nerdy ass. i donnnnnttt really think i like this buts its not completely terrible so ill post it lol. likes and reblogs appreciated! WC: 960

"because you just shouldn't, ok? god!" dave's whiny voice echoed throughout your room which almost made you giggle before you realized your parents were sleeping. you and him had been going back and forth for what seemed liked hours, all because you wanted to send your new celeb crush *kickass*, a few words of encouragement through his myspace page.

"that's not a good reason, weirdo. your such a baby, its not cringe to send him something. everyone deserves nice things said to them." you pulled your chair into your desk, a slight smile creeping on your lips at the thought of the green vigilante.

dave sat in silence, a little more nervous than he should be. i mean, what the hell was his problem? its just a comment on a damn board, and! its anonymous. dave knew you had a slight crush on the masked crusader, but you would never meet him so who cares?

you began to type, biting your bottom lip as you did. you caught a glimpse of dave out of the corner of your eyes and noticed he had scooted his chair farther away from you. whatever.

'dear kickass, i just wanted to comment about how much i appreciate you, well everyone does. so keep up the great work and keep kicking ass!' you re-read the message before hitting send. your internet had been a bit slower than usual that night, and while you waited for the message to send, dave excused himself to the bathroom. "um ill be uh right back, gotta piss." but as soon as he was about to open your bathroom door, you had noticed the message sent. and a slight *ding* could be heard from daves phone. who texted hi- your thoughts interrupted your own before you whipped your chair around and yelled his name.

he froze, nervous as ever and sweating profusely. "come here." you said calmly, even though you had put the pieces together in your head. you didn't want to overreact before you knew you were correct. he walked over to you, trying not to seem suspicious. "yeah? whats wrong." he said, but his voice cracked in the process which was a dead giveaway. "give me your phone, mines dead and i have to text someone." he paused for a moment before coming up with the most obvious lie ever "uh, um mines dead." you raised a brow, biting back a smile. "but i just heard it ding." he froze again, looking around your room dumbly.

you stood up quickly, startling him as you lunged towards his pocket and grabbed his phone. he tried to grab it but you held it high in the air with one hand, as the other pushed him away roughly. you jumped on your bed and turned it on. and lo and behold there was a notification from myspace. *to: kickass from: *user* 'dear kickass, i just wanted to comment about how much i appreciate you, well everyone does. so keep up the great work and keep kicking ass!'*

you gasped loudly, finally confirming your suspicions. "oh my god! oh my god! oh my godddddddd." you sat down while kicking your feet. "ok i know how this looks but i swear im no-" he started to tell another lie before you cut him off. "why didn't you tell me?! dave lizewski you are such a d-bag, im your best friend and you didn't tell me? this is fucking major!" he sat down slowly. your smile faded as you caught his expression. he looked...sad. like he was embarrassed. he spoke softly, "i just didn't want you to think-" you cut him off again, "that your a famous fucking superhero who kicks peoples asses for fun?!" you both laughed before he begun to speak again. "no....that i was a costume wearing loser. i mean i know im your best friend but your cool. cooler than any 'famous fucking superhero' and i like you too much to seem like a weirdo around you." his voice was barely above a whisper, he probably thought you wouldn't be able to catch that last part but you absolutely did.

you and dave had known each other for what seemed like forever, and despite your crush on kickass, your crush on dave trumped that completely. but you kept it to yourself out of fear of rejection. you two sat in silence for a few seconds as you calculated what you wanted to say. you wanted to be bold, and to tell him how much you liked him. you took his hands in yours and he looked up slowly.

"listen here, you could be wearing nothing but a speedo and a pink wig and i would still think your the coolest guy in the world. i wish you told me sooner, because i want you to trust me dave. and i like you too much to be kept in the dark." you repeated his words back to him as your faces were inches apart and his hands were sweaty in yours. but in this moment you didn't even care. you stared at his lips before pushing your face into his. he was still for a second before he ran his hands up your arms and cupped your face. he pulled back quickly leaving you confused, "so does this like mean you like be back? or am i wrong cuz like i dont-" you laughed at his ramblings "yes idiot, i like you back. and if you wanted..we could make this official. you and me." he smiled as a blush creeped onto his cheeks. "like girlfriend boy- wow. um yea totally. do you like wanna be my girlfriend?" you mirrored his smile quickly, "yes, kickass i would love to be your girlfriend."

[willalove75]

stop simping over women and pay attention to your husband. You clearly made your choice to be with a man and have his child rather than choose a woman. You bisexual women don’t get to exist in lesbian spaces when you lean towards men. Unless your husband lets to you step out on your marriage or lets you have delusional thoughts that any lesbian would want a woman knocked up by a man. You bisexual women who lean more towards men or are with men have no right to be in sapphic or lesbian spaces. And lady d is a lesbian so as if she would be with someone who let a man touch them let alone knock them up.

Oh, I'm sorry, did my husband tell you that I'm not giving him enough attention? Didn't think so.

Yes, I made a choice to be with him, because I fell in love with him. Because he's my best friend and my biggest supporter in everything I do (yes, he even supports my writing and fics and he tells me often how proud he is of me). I did not chose him because he's a man. Truthfully, his gender had absolutely nothing to do with why I married him. I just happened to fall in love with and marry a man, but that does NOT make me any less of a bisexual woman.

"You bisexual women..." and people question whether or not bi-erasure is a thing, meanwhile, this entire ask is such a great example of just that😒

"delusional thoughts that any lesbian would want a woman knocked up by a man." is truly offensive to not only every bi woman who has been with a man, but any woman who has. What about the lesbians that got pregnant by men?? Because this may come as a shock to you, but it does happen. It may not happen a lot or often, but it does. Does that mean that those women are "tainted" or "ruined" also??? No it fucking doesn't, you idiot.

It really makes me laugh when people try and use a fictional character to make a real life argument. You want to know why? BECAUSE THEY'RE NOT FUCKING REAL!!! So honestly, you have absolutely no idea if that's true or not because she's a fake fucking character from a video game. Are you also this upset at the fic writers who make her trans??? Or what about fic writers that make Alcina's partner trans??? Or are you just that much of biphobic person and this is the hill you're choosing to die on?? Either way, you're an actual bigot.

This post just SCREAMS biphobia and bi-erasure and it's fucking gross. You are so very obviously projecting your own issues and insecurities in this and honestly I would be embarrassed if I were you. Because not a single thing you said is true AT ALL or holds any merit.

Bisexual women who lean towards men or who are with men ABSOLUTELY do belong in those spaces. Just because a bisexual woman is married/with a man or leans towards men does not discredit or change their sexuality. No bi person automatically becomes straight if they date/marry the opposite gender or become gay/lesbian if they date/marry the same gender. It's called BIsexual. More than one gender. You do not get to invalidate every bi person with this shitty (and inherently wrong) opinion.

I know you wrote this trying to get a rise out of me, and congratulations because you succeeded. But I also know that people like you leave messages like this because they feel so broken and hurt and shitty that they want others to feel like that too. Unfortunately for you, I grew up in the era that birthed anonymous hate messages so you'll have to try harder next time. Not only that, but I am proud and confident in who I am and no pathetic anonymous (especially anonymous, you pussy) message is going to shake me.

I am a proud bisexual woman. I am proud to be married to my husband. I am proud that I will soon be the mother of a little boy who I will raise to be a much better person than you'll ever be. I am proud of what I've written and no, I will not stop.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

With All That I Am

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Part 7 of my Accidentally on Purpose Series

Warnings: Hospitals, injury recovery, cockwarming, oral (f receiving), angst, hurt/comfort.

SIX MONTHS AGO

There's something about Dominic Saintclair that Billy had never liked.

He could never put his finger on it. Maybe it was the pretentiousness of his actions, the way he looked like he'd never had a hard day in his life, the lackadaisical way he treated things as if they were replaceable.

The way he didn't understand that the most valuable thing he had, was the one thing he was mistreating right now.

"I swear, she doesn't know when to leave me alone." Dominic says loudly in the opulent bar, a place that was more red velvet seats and accented gold ornaments than anything else. It was somewhere Billy brought the clients he could impress easily, ones that didn't understand what the best brand of gin for a negroni was, or that whiskey shouldn't be served with ice. It was simply a place that glittered, gorgeous on the surface with no real substance... or character... not unlike the man in question.

Billy looks down at Dominic's cloned phone. All you had said was that you hoped he was having fun. 

"Maybe you're just not fucking her enough." One of his friends joke.

"Oh fuck off. I fuck her more than enough, maybe that's why she's so needy." It gets a round of laughter from his friends, and a disgusted frown from Billy.

At the bar, only a few tables away, Billy's hand tightens on his glass of whiskey, his back is to the group, and he's positioned in a dark enough corner to be unnoticed while still being able to hear the conversation.

"Anyways, enough about that, finish telling me about the red head." Dominic says, and Billy is forced to listen to him talk about other women when he has the best one.

Billy thinks about how stupidly simple it would be to kill your boyfriend, but doing it now would create more problems. You wouldn't know how much of an asshole he really was, for starters, you'd probably convince yourself that you'd been deeply in love with him before his untimely death. People tended to put dead loved ones on a pedestal, forgiving them unless their crimes were truly heinous. 

No, you had to see Dominic for his true colours first. Then, and only then, he would wipe your stain of a boyfriend from the earth.

Billy listens to Dominic say some more vile things, fully understanding his hatred for the man now. Dominic was manipulative, showing you one face, and yet secretly thinking something else behind your back. With a frown, he scrolls through your older messages.

You always seemed to be reaching for him, supportive of the things he said. He never voiced his support for you in return. 

What a fucking waste of space. To have someone as precious as you, and to take you for granted.

If he had you... he'd worship you. Without a doubt, Billy would kiss every inch of your skin, kneel at your feet if you asked, kiss you at every waking moment.

When another text comes in from you, he smiles.

As predicted, you text a second time after you've seen his read receipts and no response has come in from your idiot boyfriend.

'Are you alright?' You text.

The corner of Billy's mouth lifts, he wishes you were sending texts like this to him.

Dominic responds.

'Yes. I'm fine. Stop bothering me.'

Billy's smile drops.

You don't respond, but you see the message. He knows that you're hurt by it.

Billy's thoughts go violent again.

Anonymously, Billy has bought round after round of shots for the men, until they're wasted, and their lips are loose and he can soak in all the information possible. He plots while he listens, and he learns so much, until he could pick apart any man there in his sleep.

Their numbers dwindle, until it's just two men there, and he waits patiently for Dominic to stand on inebriated feet and head off to the bathroom.

Billy knows that Dominic is barely functional right now, having taken shot after shot, Billy is aware that Dominic will not remember any bit of whatever is happening right now.

With that information, he texts Dominic's companion from the cloned phone.

'Feeling better now, ordered an Uber, you can go ahead without me.'

Billy watches his friend read the text, finish his drink and then leave.

Too easy.

Dominic is so far gone that when he returns to his seat, he barely notices that his friend's things are gone, and Billy acts fast to stop Dominic from realising that anything is amiss.

"Saintclair." Billy greets, whiskey in hand, looking around to make sure that no one is looking, "Drinking all by yourself?" 

Dominic looks up at Billy and squints.

"Mister Russo?"

Billy hums the affirmative.

"Got room for company?" The words are bitter in his mouth.

Billy doesn't wait for an answer, pushing the inebriated man deeper into the booth and sliding into the space next to him. He hates this place, literally just designed for showing off, he glances at Dominic, who's lost in his own head, staring at his drink.

Nothing this man was thinking could ever be worth your time.

He raises his hand to the bartender, calling for another round of shots.

Dominic only has time to adjust his body, from his slumped, hazy demeanour, to appear like someone with all their critical thinking skills functional.

Billy spikes the drink with a little bit of melatonin, it's more than enough at Dominic's current level of intoxication.

"Wasn't drinking by myself, but the rest of guys have already left." Dominic slurs, and Billy raises his eyebrows, extending the spiked shot to the already drunk man.

He gives Dominic the opportunity to decline the shot, doesn't force it into his hands, just holds it out expectantly and watches the younger man choose his own self-destruction.

He kind of delights in it, the anarchy he's capable of. Each person has a role to play and it's always nice when they do it as expected.

Dominic throws back the shot with him and internally, Billy begins his internal stopwatch.

"I hope the job's treating you well." Billy hums, uncaring of what the man next to him has to say. He just has to make small talk for fifteen minutes, before the drug kicks in.

Billy asks about some of his coworkers, and then his phone pings, alerting him to a message. 

"Clingy." Is all Dominic has to say, looking at his phone when Billy inquires casually.

His eyebrows raise, watching his employee yawn, the drug beginning to take effect.

"If you don't like her that much, then why are you with her?" Billy asks, trying to keep the anger out of his tone.

"Why not?" Is the last thing Dominic says before he slumps over onto the table, asleep.

Billy blinks, an angry sneer growing on his face. What a careless piece of shit. He reaches for Dominic's phone, unlocks it and opens your messages the way he's done a hundred times before.

'At least tell me you're okay.' You'd texted.

"Prick." Billy swears, typing out a message to you on Dominic's phone.

'I'm alright sweetness, just getting ready to go home.' After a moment, he sends another message.

'I'm sorry about that last message, you don't bother me.'

He finds himself smiling when your text bubbles appear almost immediately.

'That's alright! I understand that you probably just wanted some time with your friends.' You say.

You were so quick to forgive, it made Billy's heart sour with the thought that Dominic didn't deserve your forgiveness.

'How was your night?' He asks, smiling fondly when he gets a picture of you wearing a fluffy robe and face mask.

'Very pretty, baby.' He replies, which earns a little '😳' face in response.

How sweet you were, saccharine and sticky, Billy could find himself eating you up quite easily.

'I mean it. I think you're fucking gorgeous.'

It takes a moment to get your response.

'How much have you had to drink exactly?'

Billy grits his teeth, looking over at the unconscious fuck. He barely ever tells you how pretty you are. It's why you think he's drunk now.

'A bit, but that doesn't make it any less true. You are beautiful.'

You don't respond immediately, Billy spends five minutes refreshing Dominic's phone until he gets a very shy 'Thank you,' in response.

He smiles, pockets Dominic's phone.

"Time to get you home, Saintclair." He says to the unconscious man.

He gets someone from the bar to help him get Dominic into the back seat of his car, uncaring of how he's placed, thanking the larger man with a hefty tip before getting into his car.

'You didn't tell me what you did today.' He sends before driving off.

He hears several different message notifications while he drives, and he can't help smiling, because for once, you were finally talking to him, and not as a stranger, but as someone familiar.

It was much harder to get Dominic to his apartment due to the lack of help he'd had from earlier, yet Billy made do with tossing the unconscious man over his shoulder, and then putting him down when they were in the elevator.

Billy really could have left Dominic anywhere, at the bar, or at the front steps to his apartment, or even at the door, with his keys in hand to have him wake up there in the morning horrified that he was so drunk he couldn't even make it inside.

But Billy drops Dominic on his bed instead, after accidentally bumping his head on a few door frames, he decides that he'd keep the drunk asshole safe this time...for you.

After, Billy sits in Dominic's living room, and opens up his phone once more.

'Okay, this doesn't mean anything but I went to a jewellery store today. I was looking at earrings and then I couldn't help looking at the engagement rings.'

Oh? Billy thinks.

'They were all shiny and even though I like shiny, they didn't feel like me you know? I feel like if we ever... uhhhh.... you know.... get married, I'd want something more unique you know?'

'Hello? Are you there? Did I scare you off? This isn't me asking for a wedding, I'm just saying.'

'Dominic?'

Billy sucks in a breath.

'I'm here, sorry, just got home.' he replies, tries to ignore the pain inside of him that worsens with the thought of you getting married to anyone other than him.

'Oh... Hi' you respond.

Billy smiles.

'Hi, do you have any ideas of what you think might be for you?'

He can almost see your excitement.

'Are you sure? If this is weird, you can say so.'

How cute, the way you care.

'I'd really like to see them.' He answers.

You send a link, and indeed, they're beautiful and unique and Billy can't help the thoughts of wearing it, and having you wear the other.

'These are the ones I've always dreamed of.' you add on with the attached pictures.

He bites down on his bottom lip, closes his eyes, and imagines how perfect your hands would look linked together, decorated with matching rings. The thought makes him hard.

'They have to be custom ordered though, really expensive, I'm sure we can find something cheaper.'

Absolutely not.

'They're beautiful. Tell me your ring size so that I can surprise you.'

He makes note of it when you send it.

'I can't wait to marry you.' He says.

'Well now I know you really are drunk.' You respond.

Billy has a quick moment of realisation when he remembers that you think you're talking to Dominic.

His smile drops.

'I am drunk. But you're still the most amazing person on the planet. I think you might be it for me.' And Billy means it. He means every word. He plans to marry this sweet girl that waltzed her way into his life and believed in him after two conversations.

'I love you.' Comes your reply.

Billy smiles.

'I love you too.' 

He stays with you until you fall asleep, telling you all the sweet things he's ever wanted to say, dodging personal topics that he doesn't know the answers to. When you're finally asleep, he stands, checks the time, and goes back to Dominic's room, dropping his phone onto the bed beside his sleeping form.

Billy almost considers hitting him, enjoying the thought of giving him a black eye in the morning, but that had the possibility of scaring him into not drinking again, and Billy couldn't have that.

So he leaves, walks out of your boyfriend's apartment, and does not set it on fire like he wants to. 

.

NOW

You stare calmly at the elevator doors. The smell of hospital filling the air around you. In a way, there was an ease to it, a comfort in the sterile cleanliness, a place designed to turn chaos into order.

You sip on your coffee, feeling refreshed after popping back home for a quick shower and supplies for Billy. You didn't want to leave, but you knew you wouldn't be able to stay while the nurses changed his bandages, the wound too fresh to introduce any foreign bacteria. So you'd decided to make yourself useful in the meantime.

Frank was still here somewhere, waiting for you to return so that he could leave. You'd both had tentatively agreed that Billy should not be left alone under any circumstance, surprised that you and his best friend had been on a similar wavelength when it came to caring for him.

Frank's in the waiting room taking a call when you see him. He gives you a little nod, and a gesture of his head that tells you it's okay to go see him.

You do exactly that, making your way to the nurses' station to sign in before heading to his room.

You stop short when at the door, you hear the sound of female laughter. 

It's not laughter exactly, it's... giggling.

It's obviously flirtatious, in that pitch that's just too high to be normal.

You hear Billy's voice next, too far away to make out what he's saying but he sounds polite.

Followed by more giggling.

Pure jealousy rears its head. 

You had only been gone for an hour and someone had taken the opportunity to begin flirting with your husband? 

Something dark blooms inside you, and you take a deep breath, and walk through the doors with your head high.

Two pairs of eyes turn to look at you.

"I'm back." You say calmly, smiling.

Billy smiles at you, his hair askew in every direction as if he hasn't ever heard of a brush. It's adorable, makes him look so much more boyish than usual. Your eyes go to the young nurse, that's currently taking Billy's blood pressure, quietly sizing her up, deciding if she was worth any sort of trouble at all.

"Hey baby, did you get one of those for me?" He asks, referring to the cappuccino in your hands.

You look down at him, close enough to see the tiredness under his eyes although you know this is the most amount of sleep he's ever gotten.

"Sorry, doctor said no." You respond.

Billy lets out a pained groan, and you can't help it, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his temple.

He sighs, reaching up to take your hand in his, you watch his eyes linger on your wedding ring.

"I was just explaining to Becca here how easy it was to ignore the pain for so long."

Becca?

Your eyebrows raise in amused displeasure.

"Yeah," she adds in with a wistful smile, "If he didn't pass out from the pain he probably wouldn't have gotten help in time."

Great, a reminder that you weren't there when he'd almost died. You're pretty sure that the only expression you show her is one of disdain.

'Careful,' you think maliciously in her direction, 'If he likes you enough he'll cage you like a bird.'

"How are his vitals?" You ask blankly, trying to get her out of here as soon as possible, ignoring the way Billy looks up at you in confusion at your clipped tone.

"They're uh, they're good! But-" She begins to say, but stops short and presses the back of her hand to Billy's forehead. You blink, clenching your teeth together. You're pretty sure this wasn't medically professional, and you suck in a slow breath to stop yourself from smacking her hand away from your husband.

"Are you feeling okay Bil- Mister Russo? Your heart rate is a bit high." she continues.

You glance up at her monitor in question, and sure enough the little number on screen next to the pulsing heart symbol was just a little above one hundred.

You knew that his heart shouldn't be going at near a hundred beats per minute if he was mostly stationary in bed.

Billy lets out a nervous laugh. You look down at him in confusion.

"Yean, that's- I'm fine- It's just... well... her." He explains, glancing up at you for a second.

Me? You think incredulously, blinking.

His heart is beating fast because you were near him?

Your anger dissolves as fast as it had appeared, stomach fluttering, you try to fight the smile pulling at your face but you inevitably fail.

He doesn't look up at you, so you grip his jaw, tilting his head up.

Absentmindedly, you're aware of the nurse excusing herself from the room.

You press your lips to his swiftly, delight spreading down your body when he groans against your mouth. You deepen the kiss and he accepts it eagerly.

After a moment, you pause, turning your head to look at the little monitor, His heart rate having gone up to one hundred and twenty.

"Still jealous?" he asks, with a cheeky smile.

You don't answer, leaning in to kiss him softly once more.

. 

"Please." Billy begs.

"No." You whisper, bumping your nose against his, adjusting your body under the sheets so that you're both fully covered.

"Just a little bit." He tries to bargain.

"You move, and I'll stop. You cum, and I'll stop." 

He lets out a harsh breath.

"You're being really mean to me." He pouts.

"If you rip a stitch, I won't touch you until they come out."

He groans, frustrated.

Unable to resist, you clench around his cock.

"That's not fair." he gasps desperately.

"Sorry, this isn't entirely easy for me either."

Currently, you were both under his sheets, on your back, both legs draped over his hip, while he lies on his left side facing you. It was a position that had made it very easy for him to slip himself inside of you, allowing you to keep his cock warm. 

He swallows, looking at you with warm eyes.

"You feel so good around me. You know that?"

How was he allowed to say things like that while literally stretching you open? God, you could feel the tip of his cock nestled snugly in the very deepest parts of you, every inch of your cunt sighing in relief at finally being so full of him.

You feel yourself get smaller under his gaze, soft, gentle, unnameable in its unfamiliarity.

"If it feels half as good as it does for me, then yeah, I know." you reply easily.

He smiles, it causes butterflies to flutter in gentle circles within you.

"You're beautiful." he murmurs softly.

It's your turn to swallow and look away.

Your eyes are drawn to his bare chest, and the snake tattoo that resides on his shoulder. He could not be real with the way he made you feel, like all the air in the room had simply vanished by his command, held even further out of reach by the thickness of his cock sitting still inside you.

"You really mean that?" You ask, your insecurity gaining a foothold in your head.

He reaches for your left hand, raises it up to his face so that he can lay a swift kiss onto your wedding ring.

"I do." 

The door swinging open has your eyes widening from your shared spot under the sheets. Thankfully, you were still mostly clothed, where Billy was fully naked.

"Bill?" comes Frank's voice in question from his spot by the door.

Billy winks at you, before moving the sheet off your top halves to reveal you both to the open air.

"Hey Frank." Billy greets.

Frank takes one look at your positions and lets out a tired sigh.

"You two are fucking, aren't you?" The exasperated sound of his voice drawing a smile from you.

You can't help the laugh that leaves you, giving everything away. 

Frank's disappointed expression makes Billy laugh too.

"Alright. I'm walking out this door, I'll be back in five minutes, your pants better be on, Russo."

"Make it ten!" Billy shouts just as Frank gives another disappointed shake of his head, and leaves the room.

.

Clothed now, in long blue linen pants, Billy kisses your temple, one arm wrapped securely around you as you lie beside him.

"Thanks for being here with me." He says softly, his hands gripping onto any available part of you he could reach, anything to pull you closer to him.

"What? Is Frank not good enough company?" You tease, beginning to laugh when you feel the scratch of his beard as he kisses your throat.

"Frank is usually in the bed beside me." he says into your neck, and you laugh at the imagery.

"Plus," he says in a softer, more serious tone as he pulls away for a moment. You turn to look at him curiously.

"I've never had someone worry about me the way you do."

"Ever?" You ask.

He shakes his head, looks down.

You're not sure what he's thinking, but it looks like guilt, all soft lines and sadness and you ache to make him feel better.

You lean forward, cupping his jaw. His eyes are so open for you that you think you can see his soul in them- a dark web of shadows, that glitters with vulnerability the more you look. 

You wanted his vulnerability, you wanted him to open himself up to you, and share everything he was, everything he could be, until you were full of him.  

Until you could taste him in your mouth, even when he wasn't around.

"I'm here now, and I'll worry. I'll fight anyone that stops me from getting to you. Including Frank Castle." You promise.

His frown grows into a smile.

"You're sure you don't wanna ride me? I'll stay really still." 

You groan.

"No, no vigorous activity for at least four weeks."

"You riding me isn't vigorous."

"Yes, but I'd consider your orgasms vigorous." You reply, contemplating the way the muscles of his abdomen tended to tighten up when he came.

"Wait," Billy says in horror, "I can't come for four weeks?"

"You'll be fine." You huff.

"No I won't be." He protests.

"Just let me take care of you."

He couldn't argue with that.

. 

"You hate me don't you?" Billy asks.

You try not to grin.

You turn to face him, clad in only your plainest underwear as you get ready for work. Somehow, he still saw beauty in you, even when you weren't trying. It was exhilarating.

Unfortunately you couldn't stay with him, a meeting had been scheduled that you didn't want to push back due to the difficulty in actually getting the meeting in the first place.

"Why? Is there something wrong with it?" You ask, turning playfully to show him the back and the front.

"Everything's fucking wrong with it," Billy grumbles from his spot in bed, head tilting back for a second in what looks like a plea to God himself.

"When I get these stitches out, you're gonna be in so much trouble." he says with a little grunt.

You hum, in thought.

"You know, now that I think about it, I don't think I'll wear underwear today." You taunt.

Billy groans loudly.

Something delightful blooms within you.

. 

Wrong.

This was supposed to be wrong.

The more you think that, the more you know that this is the most right feeling in the world.

There was nothing in your old life that could ever possibly compare to him.

Usually, people coerced into marriage were subjected to inhumane treatment, impossible and abusive environments, that sucked the very living soul out of them.

The most soul sucking being done to you was when you'd been forced to deny Billy the pleasure of tasting you last night.

The pleasure of tasting you... because to him... it really was a pleasure.

You swallow, sitting at his desk, tense in his comfortable chair. You'd become someone he'd wanted.

Or maybe you'd always been. When had he decided to marry you anyways?

You blink, shock spearing through you.

What if your feelings weren't real? But simply a defence response to your circumstances.

A tired sigh leaving your lips. A shake of your head.

Would you want him if you weren't trapped by him? 

The question eats away at your sanity. You spin it around and around in your head and still you can't find an answer.

You're scared by it. By the notion of losing him.

You're also scared by the idea of staying with him, still not fully understanding what he was capable of.

Which fear was right?

And which one would break your heart? 

. 

Billy says your name in question when he hears a door slam shut.

"Just me, Bill." Is Frank's answering voice.

"Where is she?" He murmurs, throat dry, looking up at the ceiling. The pain meds held him in a state of mild confusion, spaced out so that he wasn't in any pain, but unable to truly focus on the things happening around him.

He hears the slow pour of water, peeks an eye open to find Frank beside him. He struggles to sit up, tucking a second and then third pillow behind him for support and gratefully accepting the glass of water from Frank.

"It's only two, her meeting just started so you'll see her a little later."

Billy nods, ignoring Frank's gaze as he sips the water.

"I've never seen you so down bad before."

Billy's laugh bubbles in the glass he's holding.

"What can I say? I'm a romantic." He answers flippantly.

Frank snorts loudly in knowing disbelief. Billy frowns.

"You don't think it's fast? Is she... does she have something on you?"

Anger spears itself through Billy, some at Frank, most at himself.

I'm a monster, he thinks.

He turns away, not wanting Frank to read the expression on his face, wondering if his look of guilt alone will put the pieces together in Frank's head.

"It's not like that." He says easily, thinking to himself what a sick fuck he must be to coerce someone so glorious, so awe-inspiring, into marriage against her will.

He thinks he hates himself for it.

"She told me you got accidentally married. I can't imagine a version of you, however drunk, that would accept marriage."

Frank was getting too close. Billy had to say something to appease him.

"I'd met her before, at... a company party or two. I liked her, but she had a boyfriend."

When Billy doesn't continue, Frank is forced to prompt.

"And?" 

Billy stares down at the sheets. The very sheets you'd slept under last night.

"And when I met her in Vegas, they'd just broken up, and I wanted something with her, and I don't remember how, but the next day I woke up married to her and I was so happy."

It's mostly the truth, the best tale he can spin in his state.

"I know it doesn't make sense, Frankie, but when I'm with her... I'm the man I've always wanted to be."

Frank is quiet for too long now, and Billy is forced to turn his head and look up at his best friend curiously.

Both men stare at each other in silence for a moment.

"Alright, okay, I'm sold, bring her around to meet Maria and the kids." Frank says finally.

If anything, this was Frank Castle's ultimate seal of approval. Introducing strangers to his family was not an occasion to be taken lightly.

Billy grins up at Frank.

"I can't believe I had to lose my appendix to get her invited to a Castle family dinner. You're so gullible, Frank." Billy teases.

He's rewarded with a gentle smack to his shoulder.

. 

You run your hands over the fabric of your dress, deep in thought.

Was it too much? You think you might be overdressed.

It was a lovely beige colour, maybe tan, knee length with a vintage design and little puff sleeves. You'd liked how it looked in the store. Now? You honestly felt like it was a little much.

Maybe Billy would be able to help you decide.

You call his name, walking out of your shared closet and toward the living room where you saw him last.

You spin the corner and find him already coming toward you.

"Are you okay?" He asks, dressed casually in a grey shirt and black pants.

You stumble over your words, your brain spinning too fast for you to keep up.

"W- yeah- I was coming to ask your opinion, but I am so clearly overdressed." You turn on your heel to go back into the bedroom.

"Oh no you don't." Billy says, and before you know it, he's grabbed a hold of your wrist, pulling you into his body.

You gasp, eyes widening on his face as he presses you against the wall of the hallway.

Your heart pounds in your chest at his proximity. Your need for him outweighs rational thought until you have to remind yourself that he's still recovering. If he touched you right now though, he'd find you already wet, and eager for him.

While you've been fighting your aching desire, he's taken the time to run the tips of his fingers across the apple of your cheek.

"God. You're so pretty." He whispers, warm eyes spilling euphoria into you.

He couldn't mean that. Could he?

You glance away, only to be forced into looking back at him when he grabs your jaw roughly.

The tension between you feels like an electric charge, that heightens as he gets closer. 

It's like he's never touched you before, like the sensation is brand new, and not months old. 

"I should change," You whisper, "This dress is too much."

He takes a deep breath, his hand glides from gripping your jaw to curl around your throat. Your breath stutters at the feeling. Something flutters low, an ache to be filled rears its head.

"You're gorgeous. In anything you wear. I'd want you in a ball gown or a potato sack."

Good lord.

When you smile, he brings his fingers up to press against your lips, exploring the shape of your smile, appreciating the softness.

"You mean that?" You ask, a little unsure.

His dark eyes devour you, unfocused as he looks at you, balancing on the precipice of admiring you and imagining just exactly what he wants to do to you.

"Why don't I show you?" He offers.

You reach to grip his elbows when it seems like he's going to kneel.

"No, we- you're still recovering and I don't think it's fair that I get to cum if you can't."

He lets out a low grunt, pressing his body roughly against yours, his palms against the wall on either side of your head, his forehead and nose pressed to yours. The intensity of his gaze makes you turn your head to look away, he's got the demeanour of a man starved, desperate, borderline unhinged.

He doesn't let you move far, fingers curling around the back of your neck to bring you back to face him.

"Little wife," he says so deeply that you're not sure if it's a promise or a threat.

"Lift your dress up for me, or I'll tie you up and lick your cunt anyway."

You gulp. The very thought of being helpless while he-

Fuck, but you didn't even have the time, Frank would be expecting you in an hour. 

You let out a breath, feeling more than seeing the smile that forms on his face as you begin gathering the materials of your skirt into your fists.

"Good." he says finally, and you can only feel your body throb with heat in response.

There's the gentlest kiss to your mouth, something of a promise, a pledge that when he's done with you, you won't remember how to walk.

You squeeze your eyes shut as he kneels, you know that when he reaches up to tug your underwear down the length of your legs, that he'll see the desperation he causes.

He swears when he sees it, drawing out the syllables as he witnesses the way your arousal clings to the little piece of fabric protecting your modesty.

You swallow, the materials bunched in your hands no doubt wrinkling with the force.

He takes his time, tracing coarse fingers over your calve, behind your knee and up your thigh, pulling gently to guide one of your legs over his shoulder. 

He doesn't bother to touch your centre, circle your sweet bud with his thumb like he wants to, he uses his tongue right away.

You take in a sharp breath at the contact. The tip of his tongue meeting your clit affectionately, like old friends reuniting.

A shiver goes down your spine, you crush your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Billy." You whisper softly, tilting your head back as his tongue flattens on you.

He takes it slow, remarkably gentle on your hypersensitive body, having gone relatively long in recent times without an orgasm, you feel like just the right move will pull you apart at the seams.

You let out a little groan, sighing as his pace quickens, his tongue pushing deeper, so that he can get a taste of you directly from the source.

It's primal, soft, ritualistic in the way that his tongue worships you, your eyes rolling back in your head as he draws you close to your peak.

There's an obscene sucking sound, followed closely by a hum of pleasure from between your legs. You feel your body tense, coiled tight on the precipice of bliss, thighs trembling as he keeps his tongue focused on your clit, lapping gently, and then a little harsher, to be gentle again.

His beard scratches your thighs, and even that is an aphrodisiac by itself, reminding you constantly that it's his mouth on you, his tongue on your cunt, his head between your thighs.

A sharp whine of warning, your stomach tightens, your breath stutters. 

A groan of approval from him, the soft twist of his fingers on your skin, as if to encourage you, to tell you how good you're being for him, and all you ever want to do now is be good for him.

Being deconstructed by his mouth should be a lot harder, and yet, Billy makes it look like a basic endeavour.

Your toes curl, head knocking the wall, you feel like you're coming apart, atom by atom, the force of your pleasure barely contained within your skin. You feel the walls of your cunt clamp down into a tight vise, as wave after wave of bliss fills every square inch of your body.

You barely make more than a quiet gasp- too inebriated on his tongue to even scream. 

He keeps licking you gently, lazily, trembling shudders working through your system until you're forced to tap his shoulder for a reprieve.

Another obscene sound when he pulls away, looking up at you, his mouth and beard shiny with your release.

He puts you back on two feet, but your knees buckle once the full weight of you is on them.

He stands swiftly, arms wrapping around you to pull you to his body keeping you upright, a small grunt leaving him.

You blink, struggling to restart your brain.

You realise his grunt is one of pain, as he tries to hold you up, it's what kickstarts your brain into working.

You grip his biceps, straightening your legs under you and willing them to stay that way.

"Sorry." You whisper, trying to take a deep breath.

"It's alright. If I could, I would have picked you up myself." He whispers back, and you raise your head to look into his eyes.

Something unnameable passes between you, you can't put a finger on it- but it feels like quiet appreciation for each other. 

He helps you to the couch, sitting you down before disappearing into the bathroom.

When he re-emerges, it's with a clean face and a damp washcloth. 

He encourages you down to the car after cleaning you and redressing you. You try to tell him that you're capable- but he won't have it.

He slides into the back of the car beside you, and almost immediately tucks your body against his, pulling your legs over one of his for comfort.

You sag, still fatigued from such a powerful orgasm.

Jesus, was it always going to be like that? All mind-consuming and explosive?

You smile when he kisses your forehead, tilting your head up to let him kiss you softly on the mouth.

Delightful, consuming, everything about him was just so... tantalising, you wanted to spend hours learning him, take days to map every thought in his head, every idea in his heart.

He was a dangerous enigma, a slippery slope.

And you were falling. 

. 

When Frank pulls the door to his house open, he gives you both a very suspicious look.

After a moment, he lets out a long sigh of disappointment.

"You two better not fuck in my house." He threatens.

"How can you even tell?" Billy asks in disbelief, reading into the quiet accusations being made by Frank.

"Isn't it obvious?" Frank asks, opening the door wider to let you in.

"Hi Frank," you say in greeting as you walk past him. He says your name, with a small nod of acknowledgement.

You take a moment to appreciate their house, it's warm and cozy, with lots of baseball trophies lining the mantle over the fireplace. There's a lot of pinks and beiges, a cozy line of couches near the fire.

Before you can do more looking, you hear a woman's voice.

"Is that them?" She asks, spinning into the room.

This must be Maria, you think, as you watch her take Billy into an aggressive hug, giving him a kiss to the cheek before letting him go in a flourish, a look of violation comically painted on his face.

When she turns to you next, you gulp.

She's very pretty, with lovely auburn hair. You notice a large scar curving from the corner of her eye down to the edge of her chin.

You only get a second of awareness before she's taking you into a hold just as violent as the one she'd trapped Billy in. 

You can't help but giggle at her blatant showing of affection.

She says your name in greeting.

"I hear you kneed Frank in the balls. Well done."

You splutter for an excuse.

"I'm sorry-"

"-Don't be," she interjects, "I wished I'd seen it myself."

You smile, looking over to Frank, who is mid-roll of his eyes.

"That'll cost you later, big boy. Come! Dinner is almost ready." Maria says quickly, turning away and you let out a little chuckle in response to Frank's apologetic face. 

"Billyyyyyyyyy." You hear someone shout, and you watch in horror as a small blur begins racing to your husband.

Your mouth opens, subtly stepping in front of him, ready to catch said blur.

Frank beats you to it, grabbing his son under the arms and picking him up for a second before putting him back down.

"Woah there slugger, take it easy on Uncle Billy, he just had surgery." 

You sigh, moving away from Billy so that he can hug his godson in peace. You catch Maria staring at you. You give her a smile of apology before looking away.

"Frank, I want you to meet my wife," Billy says, turning the younger Frank's body in your direction.

You can instantly see the suspicious look on his face.

You tell him your name, extending your hand politely in greeting.

He takes it, shaking your hand politely, it's the best you can hope for, being a stranger in their home.

"You're not a gold digger are you?" Frank Jr. says suddenly.

It's met with lots of scolding from his parents. You can't help laughing at everyone's shocked expressions.

"Where did you even learn that word?" Frank says, exasperated.

"In school." Younger Frank answers honestly.

Billy straightens, gives you an apologetic look.

"She's not with me for my money, junior, I'm with her cause she's sweet." He wraps a hand around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest.

You can't look at him, leaning in and accepting the comfort.

You meet Lisa next, Frank's older daughter, she's polite, but you can also see the accusation in her eyes.

You figure it's nice, that at least there are people looking out for Billy, though, you almost want to shout his crimes so that you stop being treated so abrasively.

Billy had warned you that the Castles could be protective, that they'd like you once they got to know you.

You'd hoped that were true.

.

When Maria asks how you and Billy met during dinner, you both pause in horror as the answer comes to mind.

You let out a long sigh.

"We met a couple of years ago, at a Christmas party, my boyfriend at the time was working at Anvil." You say with a smile.

Maria nods eagerly in understanding. You can see how bad it looks.

"Alright," you say, finally having enough. Your fork clatters onto your plate and you watch Billy turn his head to you in alarm.

"Cards on the table. No, I'm not with him for his money- and I'm not pregnant either if any of you are thinking it. I like him. I like his stupid face and his stupid laugh and I feel safe around him and I never really had that before." You pause for a second, taking a sip of water before continuing.

"Sure, how we met wasn't the best, and how we got married was even worse, but I like him."

Billy reaches over, taking your hand in his, you glance up at him, your stomach tying into knots as you meet his eyes.

"He's my best friend." You finish.

You feel his hand squeeze yours.

Billy leans forward, his other hand cupping your cheek and hiding your mouths from view as he kisses you softly.

The entire table erupts into groans, mostly from both Franks and you can't help laughing into his kiss.

It lightens the mood though, and there's less tension in the air by the time dinner is finished. 

.

Everyone helps with cleaning up, and you find yourself drying dishes next to Maria while the rest of the family clear the table.

"He's not someone we'd ever thought could settle down." Maria murmurs.

You look up at her curiously.

She sees your confused expression and tries to explain.

"He's always just been so focused on himself, there were a lot of bad things about his childhood, and more in the military, and we just never thought he could be in a spot where he could live with someone. He tends to push people away after a while. Even us."

You look down, letting out a long sigh, wondering what you would do if he ever tried to push you away.

Accept it, you guess. What could you really do if he decided he didn’t want you anymore? Nothing.

“But don’t worry.” She interjects, you look up at her, eyes settling on her wicked scar for a second before you look down at your dish, “He likes you, he really does, maybe you did have a rough start, but I have faith in both of you.”

Your mouth pulls into a smile, you thank her for her kind words.

.

You play Jenga with them next, laughing and tickling Billy’s left side affectionately to distract him while he moves.

He grins, his hand remains remarkably steady while you torment him with your fingers. Everyone jeers, encouraging his loss, booing him when he manages to get the block on top of the tower without toppling it.

Your turn is next and you smile happily as you lean forward to make your move. You feel his hand on the small of your back, rubbing affectionately as you pick your piece. He doesn’t try to shake you or cheat like you did while you pull your piece out. The rest of the Castle family boo you in funny ways, and you have this moment of realisation that this is what family feels like.

When you get your wooden brick seated next to Billy’s, he kisses you on the temple, murmuring a ‘Good job, baby.’ into your ear in a low voice that has your body responding eagerly to him.

There’s a look that passes between you, something warm and electric, the silent guarantee that if you were alone right now, you’d be ripping at each other's clothes.

It’s Frank that drops the tower, after Maria whispers something into his ear quietly, and you smile at the way he looks at her in half betrayal and half adoration as everyone cheers for his loss.

You see it, you understand why these people are so important to him, the humanity inside each Castle is a unique thing, that makes the whole family unit just work so easily.

You’re glad to have met them, and you’re also sad when you have to bid them goodbye at the end of the night.

Maria hugs you both, Frank gives you an almost friendly pat on your shoulder. There’s a bittersweetness to it that you’ve barely felt before, a real family that you can be a part of, a promise to reunite soon that sparks hope inside of you.

You leave, hand in hand with Billy, a little bit happier than you were when you first arrived, feeling like you understood your husband just a little bit more.

.

In the car, he lets out a slow breath, tilting his head back. He’s in pain, you realise.

“My scar is starting to hurt.” he confesses, turning his head to look at you.

Your heart squeezes in your chest. 

“We’ll get you home and get some medicine into you, okay?” You say softly, leaning into him, till your nose rubs affectionately against his.

He nods, eyes drooping as he feels your hand move to cup the healing area of his abdomen over his shirt gently. He leans into you, resting his head into the crook of your neck, your other hand moving up to play with his hair.

You feel him sigh in bliss.

.

You tug your heels off so that you have better balance to support him, encouraging him to lean into you a little so that he’s in a little less pain while you get him up to your apartment.

His pain has worsened by the time you sit him in bed and rummage through your cabinet for his medicine. 

You get it to him first, making sure he finishes the glass of water you gave him before you begin taking his shoes off.

“You don’t have to-” He tries to sit up, “I can-” He grunts in pain when he curls forward too much.

You push him back gently, giving him a kiss to his forehead.

“Let me take care of you, yeah?”

You stroke his cheek with the backs of your fingers while you wait for him to respond.

“Yeah,” he sighs.

You tug his shoes off, and then undo his pants, giggling slightly when he struggles to lift his hips to help you.

You can’t help touching him, feeling over his thick thighs as they’re exposed to you. You kiss his happy trail when you see it, giggling when he groans.

“Tease.” He pouts.

You kiss his pout too.

Only after you strip him down to his boxers and carefully check his scar, do you tuck him into bed, moving to dress down for the night too. 

When you struggle for too long with the zipper, you sit on the edge of the bed beside Billy and ask him for help.

He kisses your exposed back when he gets the zip undone.

When you’re finally in your silky PJs, you slide into bed beside him, noticing that he’s still awake, but blinking slowly.

“Are you still in pain?” You ask, tilting your head to observe him.

“No pain.” He answers, “Groggy.”

You sigh in relief, sliding closer to him, till you’re pressed to his side. Your hand slides into his rough one, and you quietly enjoy the feeling of being next to him until he speaks.

“I’ve never had this.” Billy whispers. You raise your head to look at him, noticing how unfocused his eyes are, staring up at the ceiling, blinking slowly, as if to remind himself that he’s still awake.

“The old me would have never confessed to anyone that I was hurting.” 

He turns his head, glassy eyes focusing on you.

“But you… The way you fight for me makes me want to trust you more and more each time.” He swallows, “It’s scary.”

He raises a hand, cups your cheek and you can’t help leaning into him, closing your eyes in hopes that it puts him at ease, that he doesn’t feel stared at while he opens himself up to you.

“No one has ever taken care of me before. Not like you have. You look at me- and I- I mean something. You know?”

You open your eyes then, staring at him for a long moment, finding that your throat has closed up from your abundance of emotion.

“You mean a lot.” You whisper, your hand raising to cup his.

His eyes are glassy, almost on the brink of tears.

“I didn’t know.”

.

You’re in the kitchen making coffee two days after, scarily deep in thought. 

In the quiet of the morning you think about everything that’s happened. From Dominic dumping you to the despair you felt when your annulment request had been denied. You think about it all, and you think about your mother, whose call you had ignored yesterday after walking out of her house when you found out Billy was sick. 

You didn’t know how to approach her, or what you would say when she asked you the question she’d asked before.

Before you can think yourself into a downward spiral, an arm wraps itself around your waist. His hand is broad, spreading over your tummy and leaving warm tingles behind, his touch so comforting that you can’t help but smile and lean into him a little.

“Good morning, Mrs. Russo.” He grumbles softly, letting you know exactly what he thought of waking up alone in bed.

“What can I help you with, Mister Russo?” You tease, smiling as you both sway together.

There’s a moment of silence, filled only with the sounds of your shared breaths as you enjoy the presence of each other.

“I would like you to come back to bed. It’s a Saturday and you haven’t cuddled me for nearly long enough.”

You grin, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah? And what do I get if I come back to bed with you right now?”

He hums, nose pressing against your ear, one hand on your stomach and the other rising up to cup your jaw securely.

“I can think of many imaginative ways to thank you.” He murmurs, the heat of his breath tickling your ear gently.

It’s something you could never even think to dream of.

.

.

.

A/N: Sorry I've been so inactive... bad things have happened, just popping in to post this cause I don't want it to sit in my drafts for any longer.

[thetwelfthcrow]

pls rec max bottom fics? or omega.. him so catboy i'm obsessed! (please, it can be yours or anyone else's! i confess i have a favoritism for him being bottom in any shipp, but mainly in lewis and charles...)

bottom max coming right throughhhh babyyy!!!! 4433 only cause that's all i read 🫡

as alwayssss, if you have other recs, please put them down below or send them to me and i'll add them. these lists are never finished and will always get more fics as more fics get published <3

Want you to call me baby by individualist [@mediumtires] | 11k, explicit, complete

Lewis is retired and Max is dominating the sport. Turns out, Max really can’t deal with the pressure of it all.

o canada by leafycats | 7k, e-rated, complete

"The single text message he had received from Lewis hadn’t given much away, either. He could suspect, hope, even - but there’s no concrete way to know. Max hates the feeling, the uncertainty. Hates that he doesn’t even know if he can allow himself to hope after all of that. He still smells nice - must be the same cologne. October 9th, 2022 Lewis Hamilton: Congratulations on your win 🙂 You: Thank you 🙂 Today, 17:10 Lewis Hamilton: Hey man, want to debrief? Bar? You: Alright. Lewis must have noticed the internal turmoil Max is going through, because he breaks the odd silence. “I liked it, you know? The cooldown room. It felt nice, man.” It did feel nice, nicer than it has felt in a long time, with Lewis, at last - he’s glad he feels the same way."

A Stormy Season by AlettaMelody | 4k, mature, completed

Lewis tries to decide if he forgives Max for leaving him over their rivalry. Max chose to put racing and the chance of winning the championship first; Lewis is having a rotten 2022 season and could do with some love back into his life again. Things get slightly out of hand.

paralyzed by Anonymous | 3k, mature, finished

Max should have been freaking out. He should have been calling attention to the fact that Lewis Hamilton just used electricity and fucking shocked him. He struggled to get his thoughts together though because all he could think about was how damn good it felt.

all my pets are mystic by Anonymous | 4k, explicit, finished

Maybe the joke was too much. It’s kind of condescending, to refer to Max like a dog.

some day we might by c_e_1 | 9k, explicit, finished

“He has a girlfriend, Max.” Lewis snaps and stands up from the chair to face Max head-on. “Daniel has a girlfriend, and you still fell in love with him, didn’t you?” Max takes a step back, but Lewis is right there with him, following him back until Max has his back against the wall. “You are lying.” He hisses, because – it cannot be. Daniel has never mentioned having anyone at home, he wouldn’t – he would have told Max so if he did. Let him know if his heart wasn’t his to give. “Do not be cruel to me, Lewis.” Lewis laughs, but it’s a wry, mean thing that does nothing to settle Max’s anger. “Of course, you would blame this on me. Take some fucking responsibility for once, Max.” “Fuck you, Lewis.” Max says and pushes past Lewis before he storms out of the room. Or, that’s the nature of crushes. Either they work out or they don’t. Seldom do they make you realise you’re in love with someone else. But then, Max has always been special.

Melt Like Ice Cubes by WebCookie9 | 28k, mature, finished

Huh. There standing was a familiar looking dark skinned man, seemingly looking down at his phone or something but Max wasn't sure as the person was completely turned away from him. The sun was burning down strongly on that muscular back, making the skin shine and those damn tattoos gracing it were looking much too familiar to Max. The cross framed by soft looking wings. It couldn't be, right? What were the odds really that Lewis was spending his summerbreak at the exact same location, at the exact same hotel at the exact same time like him? It couldn't be. Maybe it was just some kind of hardcore fan or something, wanting to immitate the Brit. Yeah, that must be it. Or Max was going completely crazy. He should drink something. And get out of this aggressive sun.

Words Can Only Do Harm by orphan_account | 3, explicit, finished

Lewis bumps into none other than Max Verstappen at a party in Monaco. Things escalate.

i fall apart, you fill up the empty spaces by orphan_account | M | 3K | finished

"please, lewis, i need it, i need you to make me forget", max begs, hands on lewis' shoulders, head now in the crook of his neck, and lewis thinks he can probably hear his heart going insane. they both know his resolve is slowly crumbling, and when max places a small kiss on the black ink on lewis' neck, breathing out a soft, even insecure please, sir, lewis knows he's lost. or, alternatively: daniel cheats on max, max goes to lewis, lewis fucks the sadness out of him.

Negotiate by sainzjrs | E | 2K | finished

It’s blinding, bleeding and bending Max into someone else.

[m-ilkiee]

"Sometimes, we may have the best intentions for our friends, but ultimately, our actions can have the opposite effect. Such was the case of Emma Sano.

Although not her intention, she had pressured (name) into doing things that made her uncomfortable such as going to the mall with her brothers and making the girl forcibly interact with her abusers, encouraging her to sit on Manjiro's laps despite (name) expressing outward discomfort, and then leaving her with her brothers, who only became friendly with (name) a week prior. Her inability to see through her brothers' act and real intentions, coupled with her overzealousness to keep you in her life forever by setting you up with her brothers, has lead (name) into dangerous situations, such as nearly being assaulted by Manjiro Sano. Unfortunately, this will not be the last time that Emma's seemingly good intentions leads (name) further down the path of pain and regret."

Layla's commentary podcast on Chapter 3 of "Monsters"

Welcome to the second Monsters poll, how is everyone doing? I know some of you have written finals or are in the process of writing finals and to that I say comgratulations and good luck!

We had a few blips, but I'm back. And I'm better than ever. This chapter was an intense rollercoaster of emotions, bringing (name)'s fears and emotions to life. Unfortunately, it has also marked the beginning of the end for her since Manjiro has started to 'fall' in love with her. It's only a matter of time until Izana starts to chase after her since he has a constant need to outdo Mikey.

Now, as for chapter 4, we're bringing back the original black dragon members for this one. I won't spoil it for new readers, but this is the chapter that Shinichiro meets (name). It may go a lot differently from what og readers know, seeing as this is a timeline where Shinichiro had to fall into darkness to make sure his siblings were taken care of amd to save Izana out of the orphanage.

Izana will also play a huge part in this chapter, and there may be a huge development between him and (name), especially since Mikey will request him to watch (name) for him closely while they are at the Sano residence.

Takeomi may have had a few lines back then, but mow we have to remember, a girl like (name) is exactly his type and Shinichiro is complict in everything Takeomi does. What do you think happens when an older man in power wants a young woman who has no one to fight for her?

There is only one turning point, one decision that (name) will make that would seal her fate in chapter five and it involves one character, so:

Remember to reblog or send an anonymous asks why you think it's any of the three options or if you think it's someone else entirely.

For the blind item on the previous poll, congrats to anyone who answered: Rindou Haitani. Please message me if you did so that I'll give you your reward.

#2 Blind Item: Lust and Lies

"I wonder if Mikey knows it's obvious he's attracted to that girl. Long before the car incident, I always caught him staring at her body like it's a piece of meat, especially her legs and feet. He's not exactly trying to hide it either, seeing at how many times he admitted during Toman game nights that he'd fuck (name) if she wasn't a virgin and it would be the best sex of his life because her body is perfect. I wonder if he listens to himself when he lingers on her panty cam that he sent on the group, how he was so greedy with it before he eventually was forced to show us or how he seems to beat up any pledge or lower Toman member day dreaming about you.

At this point his attraction to her is an open secret. But he'll never admit it because he hates her so much." - submitted by an anonymous Toman exec. Who could this be? Let me know in the anons or the comments along with your answers for the poll.

[ritcchamadayo]

Hello, there! Heard that you're in need of some ideas in what to write/make. I've got one: some fluffy, romantic headcannons in which Leona Kingscholar's fem! s/o secretly sends him a love letter and some chocolates and Leona searches for the sender of the gifts. How will it end? Please and thanks!

hi there, thanks for sending in an idea~!

Leona would definitely be the type to quietly investigate, such a sweet idea~

Secret Admirer

Leona Kingscholar x Fem!Reader ; On Valentine's day, you decided to anonymously leave a gift for Leona. Leona, taking an interest in the little challenge, tries to find out who his secret admirer is.

"Hm? What's this?" Leona watches from his bed, one eye open. His green eyes glanced towards Ruggie, who was putting down a well-decorated box and an intricate letter on Leona's desk.

"Shishishi, someone left a message for you. I just thought I'd bring it back to you before any of the other students see~"

Leona stood up and walked over to the box, shaking the contents. It was an intricate box with a brown lid, tied with an elegant ribbon. Above it was a simple letter, with a wax seal on top. It smelled oddly like flowers, Leona thought.

"Who's this from?"

"How should I know, I found it out front."

Leona opened the box to see a few rows of chocolate neatly placed, each of them were carefully made and placed inside the box to ensure it arrives to Leona in pristine condition. Ruggie was already halfway trying to swipe a few chocolates from Leona when the lion slapped his hand away, rolling his eyes. "At least be more discreet if you're gonna pull somethin' like that."

Ruggie chuckled and shrugged, walking away from Leona. "Aight, I'll try again later~" Leona took the letter and laid back on his bed, opening the letter with a yawn. "I swear, if this is another weird thing from Falena..."

*To : Leona Kingscholar, Housewarden of Savanaclaw* It may seem a little silly of me to write a letter for you. I am just a simple admirer from afar, writing to you to express my feelings.

I've been in love with you for the past year, Leona. The way you move, the way you counter quick remarks, the way you're always so quick on your feet and wise.. I've fallen for you quite hard it seems.

You're probably wondering who am I, or why would I send you this letter along with the chocolates. Truth is, I couldn't hold back my feelings anymore, but I'm too much of a coward to tell you in person. Please accept my gift and my letter. Perhaps, you can come find me if you wanted. *- Signed, your secret admirer.*

"Hoo, ain't this interesting." Leona smirked, eyeing the letter. It seems like the letter has piqued his interest, as he flipped the paper back and forth looking for more clues. The faint scent on the letter smells oddly familiar to him, further piquing his interest. "Alright, I'll take you up on this little detective game."

---

The next morning, Leona starts his move.

"Oi. Jack." Jack, coming back from his morning jog, approached his senior. "What's up, Leona-senpai?"

Leona waved the letter in his hand, showing it to Jack. "A little visitor seemed to have sent me a gift yesterday... Did you see anyone from outside the dorm enter recently?"

Jack scratched his head, trying to remember. "Um.. I think I remember a few. Like, people who wanted to play around with their Savanaclaw friends. I don't recall seeing anyone coming in to send a gift to you." Leona nodded. "Oh, so that's what the ruckus was yesterday. Just a few herbivores looking for amusement."

The beastman went on to ask a few other people from the dorm, with most of them not knowing anything. He knew he couldn't have asked Ruggie, even if it seemed like the Hyena knew something. Leona considered asking Rook, for one- but he'd rather not have to deal with his eccentric way of speaking.

Perhaps he'd have to go back to more... primitive ways of finding the sender, so to speak. Beastmen do have quite the sharp sense of smell.

Leona simply pretended to go about his day normally. With every passing student, he quickly manages to identify their scents. Some students smelled like a faint hint of flowers, mostly the residents of the Queendom of Hearts. Some students smelled like sweat, meanwhile others smelled like the "tacky and unnecessary" perfume that Vil wore. (Everyone else would beg to differ if he had said that out loud)

"..Hn?" In the midst of walking through the hallways, Leona caught the same exact scent from the letter. He glanced around discreetly, observing who might be around him. It's definitely not coming from the Scarabian students loitering around the hall, and it's definitely not the blonde 3rd year calling him "Roi des Lions" from afar...

Leona's eyes locked onto you, walking past him with your little group of friends. "Hoo... Interesting turn of events. I'll begin my chase then, Herbivore."

---

You had no idea what's going on, but Leona seemed to always be around the corner, trying to chase you down. "W-was it the letter..? Did I say something wrong..?" You thought, but Leona doesn't seem like he's angry or anything.

Leona himself wasn't trying to pull any moves. He kept observing you quietly, every time you pass by him he'd double check if the scent was correct, and he'd steal glances at your notebook to match the letter's handwriting.

Until one fateful day, where Leona finally decides to corner his prey for good. "Hey, Herbivore... Did you know how Lions hunt?"

Leona corners you in between the wall and his body, putting his arms beside your head so you can't try to slip out. "You see... We stalk our prey for a while, cornering them..."

Leona puts his finger on your chin, lifting it up so you'd gaze into his eyes.

"...And after that, they'd pounce for the prey." He leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss. You gasped in shock at first, before melting into the sensation and kissing him back. "Thanks for the little gift, Herbivore. Quite bold of you to think I wouldn't find out, though..."

[lemoncrushh]

Seven Six Five - Part Two

Summary: They met once seven years ago. Now music has made them cross paths again.

Warnings: smut, body image issues, angst. 18+ ONLY!

A/N: Enemies to Lovers. This was originally written and posted in 2020, right before the pandemic, so the story takes place then with flashbacks of 2013. Harry Styles x Plus Size OC, written in third person.

Part Two Word Count: 3.6k+

STORY PAGE

26 February, 2020 - New York, NY, USA

Releasing her hands from the keyboard, Bronwyn sat back in her chair with a sigh. She’d done it. The NPR review was completed; and after being edited and submitted for approval, it was now live. It had been a daunting task to write about someone she despised. But after a long, restless night, and heaps of caffeine, she’d managed to get something produced. Despite her inner voice wanting to express exactly what she thought of him, her article on Harry Styles was at the very least an unbiased one, if not a positive one.

Satisfied with her work, and glad to finally put it to rest, Bronwyn decided to get some rest of her own. Closing her laptop, she took a trip to the loo before settling under the piles of blankets on her bed. She’d barely closed her eyes, however, when she heard the all-familiar ringtone come from her cell on the nightstand. The screen announced it was Antonella calling, and had it been anyone else, she would have turned off the ringer and told whomever it was to piss off, albeit silently. But because it was her vivacious agent, she knew it was a pertinent call.

“Congratulations, darling!” Antonella declared as soon as Bronwyn pressed the speaker. “I knew you had it in you!”

“Thanks,” Bronwyn smirked as she shifted herself on her pillow.

“I assume your conflict of interest was sorted out?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way…”

“No? Well, I’m glad you put aside whatever differences you had, at least for the time being. I’m looking at the beautiful photos you took, and the fellow is...how do you say…”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Bronwyn interrupted.

“Didn’t what?”

“Say anything about how he looks.”

“Bronwyn!” Antonella tsked before lowering her voice to a hushed tone. “You had relations with this young man, no?”

“No. Not exactly,” Bronwyn muttered.

She could hear her agent breathing as she was obviously waiting for more juicy details. But Bronwyn wasn’t at liberty nor in the mood to give any.

“Fine then, I won’t press,” Antonella promised. “It’s over and done. Just called to tell you what a fabulous job you did.”

“Better than Dennis, huh?” Bronwyn chided.

Antonella snorted. “If I didn’t adore you so much, I’d tell you to fuck off.”

Bronwyn giggled. “The feeling’s mutual, love.”

Pressing the button to disconnect the call, Bronwyn noticed a notification for a missed one. It wasn’ a number she recognised, but that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. She was used to receiving calls about various jobs or from websites or magazines, so it was difficult to really screen her calls. The caller, however, didn’t leave a message, so she turned off her phone and situated herself into her own warm cocoon before drifting off to sleep.

The early afternoon sun shone through the flimsy curtains and awoke Bronwyn like an unwelcomed acquaintance. With a deep yawn and a stretch, she kicked off the blankets and reached for her phone, turning it back on. Before she could even check the time, the screen alerted her of two more missed calls from that same number that had rung earlier, but still had left no voicemail. Whomever they were, they were persistent but still wished to remain anonymous. Bronwyn considered just ringing them back, but first, nature called.

After a stop in the bathroom, she padded to her small kitchen with another yawn, prepared to make a pot of coffee. When she opened the cupboard, however, she was reminded that she’d used the rest of what she’d had the night before. With a groan, she settled for tea which wouldn’t quite satisfy, but would have to do. Just as she set the kettle on the stove, the phone that she’d left on her bed sounded its chime. Seeing the mystery caller’s number again, she decided to answer.

“‘Ello?”

“Bronwyn?”

“Yes, this is she.”

“Thank God,” he said, exasperated. “I’ve been trying to get you all day.”

“I’m sorry. Who is this?”

The mystery caller gave a deep chuckle, and before he could give his name, Bronwyn knew who it was.

“No, I’m sorry. It’s Harry Styles.”

“Harry.” That was it. Just his first name. No hi or hello. No good to hear from you or glad you called. Just Harry. A statement, even, not a question.

“Hi,” he greeted. “How are you?”

“I’m...okay. Uh...how’d you get my number?”

Harry chuckled again which made Bronwyn clench her teeth.

“I have my ways.”

Bronwyn rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.”

“I got it through NPR. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I guess not,” she muttered.

“I suppose I should tell you why I’m calling. I saw your article online, and I wanted to thank you.”

“Oh?” She wasn’t sure why she should’ve been surprised. It was about him. Of course he’d read it.

“Yeah, it was really well-done, and your photos were excellent.”

“Thanks,” said Bronwyn, nonchalantly as she traced the pattern on one of her blankets.

“Also, I’m…” Harry hesitated. “I’m also calling for another reason.”

“You are?”

“It was really good to see you again, and I hated that you had to leave in a rush.”

“Well, you know, those articles don’t write themselves,” Bronwyn remarked sarcastically.

Harry giggled then, making Bronwyn want to throw something. She looked around the bed, but only found a discarded empty tissue box. It made an insignificant thud as it hit the bathroom door frame.

“I’d like to thank you properly, Bronwyn,” said Harry. “I’m in New York now. I’ll be here for the rest of the week. Can we meet somewhere? For dinner or drinks?”

Nearly dropping her phone at his inquiry, Bronwyn jumped as the kettle began to whistle.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Harry,” Bronwyn replied in a rush as she reached for the stove. “I don’t-.”

“I know you’re probably busy, but I’d love to catch up. It’s been so long and...I’d hate to know we’re in the same city, and I can’t even say hello.”

Bronwyn gave a saucy laugh. “I thought that’s why you called.”

“I mean in person,” said Harry, still not catching on to her tone. “Doesn’t have to be dinner. Just coffee, if that suits.”

The warm kettle in her hand, Bronwyn remembered how badly she’d wanted coffee. She’d still have to get dressed to go fetch it, but at least she could go to her favourite cafe and have some company…

Wait. Am I really considering this?, she thought.

“Please?” she heard him ask.

Well, she was right about one thing. The mystery caller was persistent. That only added to the long list of other adjectives she had going for him like deceitful, fake, obnoxious and contemptuous, although admittedly that list also included charming, handsome and talented. With a sigh of surrender, she poured the hot water out into the sink.

“The Corner Cafe,” she said. “I’ll meet you there. Four o’clock okay with you?”

“It’s fine. What corner is it on?”

“Google it,” ordered Bronwyn. “That’s the name of the cafe.”

“Not a very original name.”

Managing to crack a smile, Bronwyn opened her bureau and pulled out a pair of jeans and a jumper.

“Four o’clock, Harry. See you then.”

Pressing the button to hang up before he could say anything else, Bronwyn dropped her phone on the bed next to the clothes she’d just picked out and turned for the bathroom.

“What the fuck are you doing, Bronwyn?” she asked herself aloud as she stepped into the shower. “You have gone and lost your mind.”

Despite the bright, cloudless day, there was still a brisk chill in the air. Bronwyn pulled the collar of her coat up, wishing she’d brought her hat and scarf. Fortunately, the walk to the Corner Cafe was short, and she arrived well before time to meet Harry. Ordering her favourite latte, she decided on a chicken salad sandwich as well, since she hadn’t anything to eat after her long nap. Choosing a table in the corner by the window, she shrugged out of her coat, placing it on the back of the chair. Biting into her sandwich, she saw a small crowd form just outside. She wondered what the commotion was about until a girl turned around with her hand over her mouth, her phone in her hand.

It was not uncommon for Bronwyn to see a celebrity or two on the street. Granted, it was not an everyday occurrence, but she’d walked by a few since living in New York. Just last week she saw Jimmy Fallon and his wife at a pizza joint she frequented. Even being somewhat in the business, she still got starstruck from time to time. What she did not do, however, was disturb a celebrity when they were having dinner or even stop them on the street to ask for a selfie. She adored her privacy, and tried to respect others’. She wondered how famous people handled it all. She reckoned she’d go mad.

Within minutes, by the time she’d just about finished the first half of her sandwich, the crowd dispersed and a tall figure in a black hoodie turned and made his way to the cafe door. When the bell jingled, Bronwyn looked up from her latte to see him pause and scan the room. Their eyes connecting, he smiled with a small wave of his hand before walking up to the counter to place his order. Bronwyn took in his appearance - a black hoodie, black sweats and black trainers. She wondered how on earth anyone had recognised him at all. Perhaps it was the large pink tote bag he was carrying on his shoulder. She snorted to herself, taking another bite from her sandwich. Grateful the cafe was somewhat empty except for a couple of people hastily typing away on their laptops, she waited as Harry received his beverage and strolled towards her.

“I promise I tried my best to be on time,” he declared, his free hand on his chest.

“You are,” remarked Bronwyn. “I was early.”

“Ah!” Harry nodded, placing his cup on the table across from her.

She caught the look on his face as he paused again, clearly waiting for her to rise for a hug or kiss on the cheek. When she didn’t, he bit his lip, removed the bag from his shoulder and sat down.

“You look lovely,” he said.

For a second, Bronwyn was about to look down at her rose coloured jumper when she remembered his comment was probably automatic, and not necessarily sincere. Still, she wasn’t one to ignore or dismiss a compliment.

“Thank you,” she muttered.

“Sorry I look like a right slob. I was hoping to look inconspicuous.”

Bronwyn couldn’t help but smirk. “Didn’t work out for you, no?”

“Oh, you noticed?”

Bronwyn shrugged. “I might’ve caught something through the window.”

Harry’s shoulders shook as she chuckled low. “Could’ve been worse. At least it was just a few.”

“I couldn’t stand it,” Bronwyn shook her head as she wiped her hands on the napkin. “I dunno how you do it.”

“You get used to it.”

“I doubt it. I value my privacy too much.”

Harry was quiet as Bronwyn pushed aside her nearly empty plate and took a sip from her latte. She eyed his ringed fingers as they picked up his own drink and brought it to his lips.

“So, how’ve you been?” he finally asked, setting down his cup.

“You asked me that already.”

“When?” Harry raised a brow.

“Yesterday. Unless you meant, how’ve I been since then.”

Harry smirked and shook his head. “No, I guess not. I reckon I’m just interested in what you’ve been doing since...I saw you last.”

“Are you really?” Bronwyn asked flatly.

“Of course. You live here in New York now,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“And you still take photos.”

“Yeah.”

“And you do freelance work.”

“Yep.”

“What else?”

Bronwyn pursed her lips and shrugged. “That’s...pretty much it.”

“Oh, c’mon, there must be something else,” argued Harry as he leant forward. “Tell me more about you.”

Trying not to roll her eyes at him, Bronwyn sighed.

“I…” she began, holding her arms out at her sides, “still look the same.”

“Yeah, you do,” Harry grinned widely. “That’s why I recognised you so quickly. Your hair might be a wee bit shorter, maybe a little darker…”

“Hmm…” Bronwyn pondered.

“No cute, short dress or boots though,” Harry added, taking a peek under the table.

A laugh left Bronwyn’s throat before she could stop it, and one from Harry soon followed. She felt the blush in her cheeks and quickly cleared her throat.

“You still into the vintage stuff?” Harry asked.

“Of course. I just don’t regularly parade around in it at four o’clock on a Wednesday. In February.”

Harry giggled again, his eyes squinting.

Please stop doing that, Bronwyn thought. This is hard enough for me without you being so...ugh.

She didn’t want to admit that she still found him so incredibly attractive. Years may have separated their last encounter, but it wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen his face since that night. Despite her persistence in trying to avoid having anything to do with One Direction, they had been a massively popular band. When she’d heard of their split, followed by the buzz of Harry’s rising solo career, she’d continued to keep her distance as much as possible. Sat across from him now in a quiet cafe, his green eyes trying their best to read hers, the memories of seven years ago came flooding back.

“That reminds me,” announced Harry, interrupting her thoughts. “I brought you something.”

Raising her brows in question, Bronwyn watched Harry pick up the tote bag by his feet and hand it to her.

“I remember how you prefer vinyl, so I thought you might like that,” he added.

Taking the bag from him, Bronwyn hesitantly opened it and pulled out an album, Harry’s pointing pose adorning the front cover.

“This is your album,” she frowned.

“You don’t have a copy already, do you?”

“No. I actually listened to it on Spotify.”

“Oh. Good, then,” Harry grinned.

“Thanks,” Bronwyn commented dryly. “Do you...um...want the tote bag back?”

“No, no. I brought that for you to carry it in. So you won’t be walking home with my face under your arm,” he laughed.

“How thoughtful.”

She could feel his eyes on her as she hung the tote on the back of her chair. Looking back at him, she caught the deep frown on his face before he lifted his coffee cup to his mouth. No doubt she had hurt his feelings, or at least bruised his ego a bit. But she didn’t care. She found it utterly conceited of him to assume she’d want a copy of his record. But then...of course he did. That’s why he was there with her. It was all about the article she’d written about him. His music. His album. How stupid she was to even consider anything else.

“Well um...I’m glad you liked my article,” she said, trying to soften the blow a bit, and also hopefully end their meeting soon.

“I did,” Harry nodded, lowering his cup. “But that’s not really why I called you. I said that, right?”

“Why did you?”

A smile twitching at his lips, Harry leant forward again. “You think I call everyone who writes something about me?”

Oh fuck off, are you joking?

“You mean, you don’t?” Bronwyn asked, playing his game.

Harry laughed, resting his chin in his hand. “Bronwyn, love. What happened that night?”

“What night?”

Rolling his eyes, Harry scoffed. “What’dya mean, what night? The night. The film premiere. You and I.”

“It’s you and me,” Bronwyn corrected. “Why do people always get that wrong?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“I had to leave,” she answered softly.

“Without saying goodbye?”

“Something came up.”

“What something?”

Her eyes involuntarily began to water, and she looked around the room. “Can we not talk about this now? It was a long time ago.”

Harry stared at her for what felt like minutes as she finished the last sips of her coffee. Finally resolving to the fact that she wasn’t going to give him a legitimate answer, he sat back with a sigh.

“Alright then.”

“Right,” Bronwyn agreed. “So, if we’re done, I do need to get home. I have some work to do.”

Harry didn’t bother to hide the disappointed look on his face this time. He rose from his chair as Bronwyn stood and grabbed the tote bag and her coat. He startled her when he took her coat from her and held it out for her to slip her arms inside.

“Thank you,” she barely whispered, looking at the ground. “And thanks for the...um...vinyl.”

“You’re welcome. I’d hoped to buy you coffee and perhaps something to eat, but you’d beat me to it.”

“Sorry,” she managed a shy grin. “I was hungry. I’d slept all day, what with being up all night writing. That’s why I came early. I wasn’t expecting you to...I mean, you didn’t have to buy me anything.”

“Ah, I see,” Harry grinned back. “Well...I hate to say goodbye, Bronwyn. But it really was good to see you. I hope it’s not another...seven years until we meet again.”

Giving a tight smile, Bronwyn nodded. “Well, goodbye, Harry. Take care.”

This time she allowed him a short embrace as he kissed her cheek. Then he held the door open as she slipped outside into the cold air. Harry said another goodbye before shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. Bronwyn strode swifty down the sidewalk until coming to a stop, turning only to watch him pull his hood over his head and cross the street before wiping her wet eyes and walking the rest of the way home.

20 August, 2013 - London, England, UK

Nah, nah nah, nah nah nah nah!

Bronwyn giggled as she swayed against Harry’s body as he stood behind her, his arms wound around her while her own waved high in the air. The entire room had decided to join in a chorus of the Beatles’ “Hey Jude”, and in their overt intoxicated state, she and Harry were happy to include themselves in the mix.

Bronwyn felt like she was on cloud nine. She’d been having the best time with Harry all evening. Not only was he cute and charming, as well as a bit cheeky, but he was also a gentleman, continuously asking if she was okay, if she needed anything. After several drinks and a raiding of the buffet, she was surprised that he had stuck around, never leaving her side except to go to the toilet. They chatted with several people throughout the night, including a couple of his bandmates, but mostly they just enjoyed each other’s company and getting to know each other.

By the time the song was over, Harry had his face in the crook of her neck. His breath gave her goosebumps, but she hoped to God he wouldn’t release her just yet.

“Come with me,” he requested, his voice low in her ear.

“Where?” she asked, her hands on his arms that were still around her.

“Somewhere...away from here.”

Unsure if he was being literal or figurative, Bronwyn grabbed his hand, loosening his grip. Turning to face him, she smiled up at his heavily hooded eyes.

“C’mon,” she beckoned, pulling in towards the door.

They made it out into the hallway, a set of lifts in front of them, two more hallways on either side.

“Which way, darling?” she asked him. “Take your pick.”

Tugging her arm, Harry chose the hallway on the left, guiding her to where exactly, she didn’t know. Nor did she care. She was just so happy to be with him, she would have followed him anywhere.

When they reached a closed door on the right, Harry stopped and tried the knob. Locked. Then he tried another. Locked as well.

“Bugger,” he scowled.

Bronwyn giggled, finding his pout fetching.

“I reckon they don’t want any hanky panky going on here,” she commented.

Harry glared at her, feigning shock. “Who said anything about hanky panky?”

“Oh please!” she ribbed, playfully poking him in the side.

“Heyyyy,” he laughed before pulling her closer.

Bronwyn stared at him as he beamed at her, flipping her insides so much it felt like a gymnastics team doing somersaults.

“Let’s see what’s down this way,” he urged, pulling her with him once again.

At the end of the hall was a small alcove. It wasn’t much, but no one was in view, and it was probably the best privacy they were going to get. Guiding her inside, Harry pressed her against the wall, his hands on her hips.

“I do kinda fancy you,” he confessed, his eyes dancing while his lips were so close to hers they almost touched.

“I kinda figured that out,” Bronwyn nodded with a smirk.

Another glorious smile spread across Harry’s face as Bronwyn slid her hands up his arms. He continued to stare at her, like he was examining every feature of her face, piece by piece. She liked the way he looked at her, but the fire that had already ignited down below was now aflame.

“Only one thing I can’t figure out though, and it’s been driving me mad, Harry,” she added.

His eyebrows lifted in question as his perfect lips fell into a look of perplexity.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Why it’s taking you so bloody long to kiss me.”

What do you think of Harry and Bronwyn so far?? Please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

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[pockykierra]

Hello my friends! I hope everyone is having/has had a fabulous day :)

There is something I have debated on whether I wanted to make a post about, as I try to keep my blog a place of positive vibes and this not that. But after a lot of back and forth, I think I need to speak on this.

On Friday I received an anonymous ask from someone who was... miffed, I will say, about the length of time between chapters for my Good Omens WIP, Saying The Quiet Part Aloud. Ideally, I would have liked to message this person and have a conversation, but as they are anonymous, I cannot do that (if you are the person who sent me this ask, please reach out, my DMs are open).

I will start by saying that the amount of love and praise I have received for my Good Omens fics has just blown me away, and this is no fault of the GO community. I am so incredibly grateful that so many people love my writing. Before writing for GO, I only ever wrote for niche ships and was involved in smaller communities where everyone knows each other. All that to say, this is the first time I have ever received a message like this.

My feelings were not really hurt by this ask, because I think I've lived enough of life that being accused of writing a sentence a day (which, honestly, is pretty hilarious, I laughed out loud when I read it) doesn't shake me.

But I will say that comments like the one I received are part of the reason why many authors abandon their fics.

People have forgotten that art and fanfic is not something you are entitled to. I write for myself first and foremost, and because I love my stories so much is why I am glad to share them with others. But no one is entitled to my stories. I appreciate that there are people out there who are so excited for my stories that they want to read more as soon as possible, but there are kinder ways to broach the topic. I've received a veritable FLOOD of asks from people who have kindly and respectfully asked on a timeline on the next chapter, and I am more than glad - ecstatic even - to answer them, even if I don't know myself when the next chapter or story will be out.

I have a lot of stuff going on outside of writing, a lot of life to live. And even if I have nothing going on and I could be writing, but choose to spend that time with my husband and family instead, that still doesn't justify an impatient message.

I know it's hard to wait for fics, but sending mean spirited messages is the quickest way to ensure an author stops writing.

And to all those who have been sending me so many messages and leaving comments and kudos and so many other things, thank you, you are the lights of my life <3 This will in no way effect the upcoming chapters of STQPA, and chapter four is still coming soon, along with a special little surprise ;)