#just take a writing or editing job instead if that seems more your calling. STOP it -_-

[derpinette]

malding & seething out my ears when i want to a watch a french film but there are no subtitles to accompany it so i have to put on the english ones & play the translation game the whole time losing focus on the actual story thus retaining none of it

[jakeysbuttsheeks]

Godfather | v

Pairings: Jake X fem reader

Warnings: profanity, age gap , mature themes, mentions of ; drug use , eating disorders, substance use , death of parent , orphaning , other weird shit

Masterlist

2 weeks had passed since you started working with the band's staff. You met so many new people. You got in contact with the band's photographers , editors , managers.

Since you were young and exposed to social media more than the others , they practically put you in charge of all Greta's social accounts, ofcourse you had to check in with their manager before you did anything.

You were quite enjoying it. You had a easy ride to work and a fun job with fun people. You couldn't be more greatful to Jake for recommending you for the job.

Jake on the other hand completely regretted it. How he thought he'd get to spend more time with you all went into the gutter.

Infact you spent less time with him more than anything. He was mostly on the studio , writing and recording . You weren't even there for photoshoots and interviews , you were always behind a laptop doing stuff , editing along with Greta's editors and photographers to make the perfect post.

So instead of spending time with Jake , you'd became close with this guy , he was not much older than you . Both of you were the youngest in the company. His name was Axel and he was pretty sweet. He'd take you out during lunch and buy you stuff sometimes and was always helpful. It was clear he liked you through, you pretend not go see it .

Ethan had also hit you up after the encounter at the mall and you'd been texting him since . He was being quite sweet and all-in-all a fairly good distraction from your weird attraction to Jake .

Ethan asked you to meet up at a party tonight, since you hadn't been going out much after your dad died, plus work. You thought why not.

"Jake" you call as you slip into the kitchen to spy on what he was doing.

"hey sweetpea" Jake smiles at you.

"wacha doin?" You ask as if it wasn't obvious , leaning on the kitchen counter.

"pouring myself a drink" Jake smiled with a sceptical look on his face , knowing you wanted something.

"so- I'm going out tonight. I'll be back late. Don't wait up for me" you say , leaning off the counter to head out of the kitchen quickly.

"where?" Jake asks , stopping you .

"just a party" you shrug.

"with who?" He questions and you roll your eyes , his eyes was on the stove in front of him .

"Ethan" you say through slightly clenched teeth .

"Ethan? Your ex?" Jake asks with a confused frown . You shy off and nod.

"alright but I'm warning you . If he makes you cry or something-" Jake says and you cut him off with a laugh. Although he didn't seem like he was actually joking.

"I can take care of myself thank you" you smile, heading out again .

"can you thought? What would you even do without me?" Jake shakes his head in exaggeration and you laugh again .

"I'm serious tho. No drugs and use protection" Jake says with a straight face , busily tending to his drink.

"Jake!" You gasp as you walk out of the kitchen.

"and no anything smoking either!" Jake yelled.

"okay mother!" You yell back as you went up to your room .

You went upstairs to dress up . You chose to were a short tight black dress with a v shaped neckline that went all the way down between your tits, revealing your cleavage with black heels to match . You let your hair hang lose , brushing it out a little with a fair amount of makeup on.

You expected Jake to compliment you the minute you walked down but instead he said nothing, you could feel his eyes on you from where he was seated on the love chair in the living room as you walked to the kitchen

"have you seen my purse?" You ask as you search the kitchen counter.

"It's here" Jake says from the living room .

Your heels clatter on the tiles as you walk to the living room . Jake pointed to the coffee table where your purse was.

"oh" you and bend down to grab your purse from the low coffee table , your ass sticking out right by Jake's face with your short dress riding up . If you bent half an inch more you would've flashed him and he secretly hoped you did.

But you grab your purse and stand straight up just in time , Jake snaps his head back to the tv infront of him , clearing his throat and mental slapping himself for looking.

"alright I'm leaving" you say , noticing he looked sort of flushed .

"have fun" he says , eyes fixed on the tv.

"bye" you call as you walk to the front door .

"bye. Be careful" he calls back as you leave .

You left to the party and and ofcourse the minute you got there , you wanted to go back home to Jake . But you thought you needed to get away for a while . So you stayed .

"y|n you came!" Ethan walks up and hands you a drink.

"don't worry I made it. it's just vodka" he says as you look at it sceptically.

"thanks" you say half heartedly as you sniff the drink before taking a tiny sip from it . And it was infact not spiked and just vodka.

"trust me a little" Ethan batted his eyes and you forced a laugh .

The party was the lamest thing ever . The music was rave trash and everyone was high on something .

"oh my god y|n? What are you doing here?" A group of your old friends came up to you as soon as they saw you.

"just thought I'd come out for a bit" you smile . They were thrilled to see you . And that's when the fun began .

You knew you were safe with them . You sat with them and did numerous shots and shared a couple joints even tho Jake told you not to smoke .

The bunch of y'all were fully spent by the time . Y'all sat and laughed together about past events.

"so y|n. Where are you staying right now?" Cass asked , taking a deep puff.

"oh. Remember Jake?" You say . They all knew Jake because you practically grew up with them . They knew your dad and his friends well .

"you mean the hot jucy ass long haired guitar Jake?" Cass smiled widely and you blushed .

"yeah" you giggled drunkly.

"shitt. You're staying with him? God I would love to be you" she says , slurring as she spoke .

"shut up". You smack her playfully.

"guys let's go we're getting matching tattoos!" Ethan randomly came up to your group . Your friends knew what Ethan did to you so they all equally hated him .

"fuck off Ethan" Janet snapped .

"aw c'mon girls don't be pussies. Me and the boys are going to go get some. They know this this guy that does it for cheap .Y'all should come too" he says , clearly high on coke or something.

"oh here you are sweetheart I thought you left" Ethan smirks at you when he sees you, reaching his hand out to tuck your hair behind your ear .

"I actually kinda wanna get a tattoo" Cass pouts .

"should we?" Janet snaps her head at Cass with a excited smile .

Before you knew it you were in the crowded car , sitting on Ethan's lap , driving to get a tattoo.

"you look gorgeous y|n" Ethan slurs into your ear and you giggle at the ticklish feeling before he began kissing your neck and murmuring sweet nothings.

"mm I missed you" he sucked on a spot he knows you like , right under your ear and you sigh at the feeling, his arms tightly wrapped around you .

You wouldn't even be here if you weren't so high . But here you were making out with Ethan in the back of someone's car , on your way to get tattoos.

Ethan was whining and yelping throughout his tattoo while you and the other were looking at the piercing section , waiting for your turn .

"oh my god. You should get a piercing" Kaylee says as she looks at you ogling at the piercing counter .

"no" you say even though you actually wanted to . A tattoo didn't excite you too much . But a piercing?

"why not?! Who's going to say anything?" Kaylee says.

"well I mean-" you pause knowing there was actually no one to stop you .

"I wanna get one no one can see" you say , giving into the idea as she passed you another joint.

"nipple piercing" her eye sparkled .

"what no!" You laugh .

"maybe a belly button piercing. Or a tongue piercing" you say as you eye the jewellery.

"Oh my god! Get a tongue piercing!" She squealed, catching the attention of your other friends.

"y|n's getting a tongue piercing!?" Cass gasped in excitement.

"hell yeah baby that would make you so hot" Ethan speaks from his chair as the tattoo artist works on his tattoo on his arm.

"shut up Ethan"

"yeah no one asked Ethan" your friends snap at him .

You didn't even realise when it was all over . Your friends got their tattoos and piercings, you got your piercing. You couldn't even feel it . Probably because you were so high .

You didn't even know how you made it home . you were completely wasted by the end of it .

You were dropped off at Jake's and somehow you made it into the house .

"Jake" you slur , you were sure you were either going to pass out or throw up in the next few minutes.

He was sitting in the living room with his guitar even though you told him not to stay up .

"holy shit" Jake set his guitar down on the couch and quickly came up to you before you could lose your balance and crash to the floor. You fall into his embrace and giggle aimlessly.

"you're fucking wasted" Jake states as he helps you inside and sits you down on the couch .

You whine as he left you there . Your eyes beginning to feel heavy as you began to pass out . But Jake woke you up again , handing you water and helping you sit up again .

You drank it and winced , forgetting your piercing completely.

"can you get changed?" Jake asked and you nodded . He bent down and unclasped your heels before standing up off the couch .

"alright let's go" Jake helped you up and you practically fell into him , wrapping your arms around his neck as he walked you to your room.

You murmured random gibberish and giggled at nothing as he tried to get you to walk up the stairs. Until he just decided to pick you up and take you , making you giggle and run your fingers into his hair and stuff your face into his neck .

He kicked your door open and set your down on the bed.

"y'know what I did?" You slur.

"what?" Jake asks.

"i- wait I forgot" you giggle drunkly. Jake wasn't amused at how high you were. And he knew you'd been smoking, he could smell the weed on you .

"I need to diee" you groan as you fall backwards into your pillows .

"no you need to change first . You can't sleep in that" Jake sits you up again.

"I missed you Jake" you babble, his face gets hot . But he ignores you in order to keep his sanity.

"what am I gonna do? I don't know what to do?" You whine , muttering gibberish in your drunk state as Jake walks over to your closet to grab you something to wear , a pair of shorts and a top that you wore many times and throws it on your bed .

"here c'mon change into these alright?" Jake says but you're too drunk to even acknowledge him.

"Jesus Christ" Jake groans and leans down to your face .

"y|n change into these" he points to the clothes and you look at them in a daze .

You got on you knees on the bed and stretched to grab your clothes from the end of the bed , arching your back as you stretched on all fours , your low neck dress allowed Jake to see your boobs just about spilling out of the dress. His body stood straight and stiff as he watched you , almost biting down on his tongue as he swallowed his spit .

You grab the clothes and kneel up again , grabbing the ends of your dress to pull it over you .

"no! No no!" Jake immediately turns around in panic .

"wait till I leave y|n Jesus!" Jake scolds and you pout as he quickly walks out of the room , closing the door behind him and taking a deep shuddering breath at what he just saw.

☆⋆⋅─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────⋆⋅☆

You woke up to a pain and distress in your mouth , groaning as you stick your tongue out and touch the area of pain . Your eyes widened when your fingers touch a warm metal on your tongue, causing a sharp jolt of pain.

"fuck-" you jump off your bed and run to the bathroom, turning on the lights to look at yourself in the mirror.

You stick out your tongue and there it was. A shiny silver tongue piercing. Your t-shirt was on backwards as well. You had no memory of what happened after a certain point last night.

"fuck what did I do-" you groan to yourself. Jake was going to kill you for sure. Did he already notice it yesterday? Probably not. How did you even come home ?

"y|n!" Jake called out , perfect timing.

You brushed your teeth in pain and washed your face before going downstairs.

"breakfast" Jake pointed to your plate on the table.

"do you want some coffee ?" He asks as he makes himself a cup .

You shake your head , too afraid to speak up in case he saw the piercing. He squinted at your weirdness but decided to push it off , continuing to make his coffee .

You sit down at the table and pick up a piece of toast , biting into it and wincing , Jake snapped his head at you again .

"you alright?" He asks. You nod and gesture to him that the toast was too hot with your mouth full.

"it's hot? But I made it like 10 minutes ago" Jake says confused and you just shrug. He stares at you confused for a second before brushing it off the second time .

You couldn't finish you breakfast. The pain was too much for hard toast and peppery fried eggs and chewy bacon . You gulp some water down to soothe it .

"you didn't finish" Jake catches you escaping.

You rubbed you tummy to gesture that you were full .

"no you barely ate anything. Sit back down and finish" he says sternly.

You groan and and shake your head , giving him pleading eyes , you hand still on your tummy .

"y|n" Jake glares. He knew you were famous for starving yourself and not eating because you were too self conscious and he wasn't to allow it .

You sigh , preparing yourself to sit back down and embrace the pain.

"good" he says as he continues sipping his coffee while cleaning up the kitchen. But he notices your distress while eating.

"does it taste that bad?" He asks " I mean I know I burnt it a little bit but I'm sure it's not that bad" Jake says as he came up next to you and took the piece of toast that you'd been nibbling on while gulping down water after each bite .

You shake your head again and take the piece of toast back , rubbing your tummy again .

"what's with the damn gestures? Can't you talk?" Jake asks , he was starting to get annoyed.

You just stare at him like a little girl that'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have been doing . Jake knew something was up . The way your mouth closed so uncomfortably, like you had something in your mouth.

"say something" Jake pushed , setting his cup down on the table in front of you and looking at you with a serious expression.

You shake your head again , keeping your mouth closed tight. You felt small, sitting down while he stood tall next to you . Plus his glare was scary.

"open your mouth" Jake got more annoyed . And you panic and shake your head as he grabbed your chin and the top of your head .

"what did you do? Open your mouth? What's in there?" Jake asks as he tries to get you to open your mouth but you fight him .

Till he grabbed both your wrists in one hand and held your nostrils closed with his other hand . Knowing eventually you'd have to open your mouth to breath. You tried to get your hands out of his iron clad grip but you couldn't.

You gasp for air as you finally open your mouth to breath , reveling the shiny silver inside your mouth.

Jake's jaw dropped as he let go of your wrists , both his hand going to lift your face up at him , his thumb and index finger holding your chin to open your mouth wider .

"in that a-" Jake stared at your mouth and you stick your tongue out slightly to show him .

"I'm sorry I didn't- I was drunk-! I-" you speak in panic .

"your father would kill you" Jake scolded .

"I know! I'm sorry- I'll get it removed or something" you apologize.

"no. It's already payed for plus the hole is already through your tongue" Jake says , using his thumb to caressed your chin and lift your chin higher so he could get a better look .

"and besides" he speaks , his cheeks growing a slight redness to them .

"it looks- quite pretty good on you" he says softly as he lets go of your face .

"really?" You blush.

"yeah. But- that's the only place you got pierced right?" Jake asks as he looks all over you and you grow red .

"yes. No where else I swear" you nod .

"fine. But I don't want you doing this again without asking me" Jake speaks after clearing his throat.

"I won't I promise" you say.

"and I told you not to smoke didn't i?" Jake says as he turns back to his coffee .

"I'm sorry Jake-" you look down in guilt.

"I don't wanna hear it. Just don't disobey me again" he speaks . He had never been so formal and serious with you in a long time. Was he actually mad at you for smoking?

Jake barely spoke to you the rest of the day , the two of you headed to work . And ofcourse you barely saw him at work . He didn't talk to you on the way to work in the car or on the way back either.

It'd been circling in your head to ask him but as soon as yall reached home he went straight for a bath and went to his room , barely even looking at you.

Your heart clenched at the thought of making him upset or angry with you.

If only you knew .

He wasn't upset or mad at you at all for disobeying him . He wanted to protect you ofcourse but it wasn't just that. He knew he was out doing all sorts of shit when he was a kid .

But what really made him avoid you was the fact that he had to go back to bed last night rock hard because of that show you put on for him .

Clearly arching your ass out as you stretched to the end of the bed , the seductive doe eyes you gave him and the sight of your cleavage completely exposed . Ofcourse you were high but were you trying to seduce him?

He couldn't sleep , trying to wait for his hard on to go down and resisting the urge to relieve himself at the thought of you . But he told himself never to do that again . But everytime he closed his eyes , all he saw was you.

And today morning just made it worse , the piercing on your tongue and the worried look on your face turned him on so bad .

There was no way to avoid how he felt . But he could avoid you for sure . So that's what he did .

NEXT PART

Tags:

@mackalah @mindastreamofcolours @jjwasneverhere @themoreyou-love @gvf23 @sarah-gvf01 @thetroublegetssoloud71 @violetstarcatcher @brookekiszkaa @gvfmarge @mulberrimouse @lyndz2names

[toggle1-mrfipp]

CSM 167: Yo, What the Fuck?

So, that chapter, huh?

To just get it out of the way, Yoru gave Denji a handjob and he came on her hand, and despite how crude that sounds I find this whole chapter fascinating. Normally I like to think these kinds of posts out but right now my mind is racing trying to organize everything, so I'm going write whatever pops into my mind.

So first thing, there's the issue of consent, and I'll start with Asa, because she didn't show up until the very end, but we have to remember that Asa has shown the ability to push Yoru out of the driver's seat in moments where she is particularly having strong emotions, and someone using your hand to jack someone off would get some kind of strong emotion out of her. Yoru seems to act as Asa's unfiltered, unrestrained thoughts and desires, the version of Asa that acts without the worry of what other people think or say about her, so that means if Yoru was allowed to do this, then that means on some subconscious level that Asa was okay with this happening. I'm certain she'll scream and yell about it later, but that won't change the fact she let this happen. Then there's Denji, who at this point I think we'll just have to accept that even if all parties involved give consent I doubt he'll ever have a really "normal" sexual experience, and the fact that Yoru seemed to be getting into this along with him, instead of her just using it to manipulate him like literally every other girl he's been with unironically maybe puts it at the top of the list for him.

Which brings me to Yoru! back when the had the apartment date, she kissed Denji and when she pulled away she was blushing, she felt something for him at that moment, and as we saw here the returning memory of that date had her act on that feeling again. We know that Asa's emotions leak into Yoru, and considering Asa's own feelings on Denji that means that to some extent Yoru feels them too, but unlike Asa, Yoru has no inhibitions to stop her from acting on her desires.

EDIT: I decided to add another bit on Yoru

The thing I'm most interested in seeing is how this will affect Yoru's relationship with her own powers. Her weapons are powered up by the guilt associated in making them, but between having no real moral compass and not ever becoming emotionally attached to anything she's never had any sense of guilt, meaning she can't make the most of her own powers. What will happen if she tries to make weapon out of Denji? She's feeling attracted to him, she knows she likes him, meaning she'll get a strong weapon out of him, but what if she goes for it and she can't do it because guilt is such a foreign concept for her despite how important it is to her skill set and having to actually confront her own guilt terrifies her?

Overall, this chapter left me with two major thoughts on what I think/want to happen.

The first being is that this is what causes Denji to snap, that he'll have some post-nut clarity and call Asa out on how she's been acting, because from his point of view she's been an unstable, schizophrenic psychopath this whole day. Denji asks her about her arm, she kicks him in the balls, she says she wants to help him, but she threatens to fight him, she tries to castrate him, and she gives him a hand job and makes out with him! What is he supposed to reasonably think about her in this situation when she's just been nothing but an inconsistent mess? I want them to start getting mad and start yelling, with Asa arguing with both him and Yoru which only makes her look more insane to him. I really feel like if they get angry, then Denji can actually start beginning to take some control of his life back instead of letting everyone push him around, and Asa will be forced to confront her flaws and mistakes, that she can only be in denial for so long while Denji is screaming in her face about it. It would be ugly and messy, but I think it might actually be good for them in the end.

Also, I'm not entirely joking when I say if those two(three?) end up having intense hate sex in that alleyway in the rain, then I think it would be insane in the best kind of ways.

And second, I think it would be unhinged is Asaden was a red herring, and Yoruden was the real end game pairing. It might legit be the start to Asa's villain origin story. She goes out and does all these things just so Denji can feel strong affections for her, to give her something to latch her self-worth and the attempts to validate her life, oly for Denji to fall in love with Yoru instead. It would be both hilarious and tragic.

Another thing! Up until this point I thought Denji and Asa's relationship would be a tragedy or What Ifs and Could Have Beens, but instead I want them to be unhinged as possible, spiraling down while they blaze the candle at both ends. Just let their relationship become everyone's problem from now on.

Overall, the last few months have left me nervous and apprehensive about what each new chapter of Chainsaw Man will bring, but as of this chapter I find myself more excited than ever because I feel like this might end up taking the story is some insane places.

ONE MORE EDIT: I wrote a one-shot regarding my interpretation of this mess: Back Alley Screaming Match.

[softguarnere]

hi dove! i can't believe i've never requested anything on your blog! could you possibly write a enemies to lovers - lewis nixon x reader? maybe where feelings are discovered after one of them gets hurt/captured/something like that! you know i'm a sucker for angst with tons of fluff! thanks for being awesome!

mads <3

Coming Clean

Lewis Nixon x reader

A/N: omg hi Mads! Thank you so much for the request 🤗 I love your work (especially the way you write Nix) so I really hope you enjoy this! I edited and wrote the last half of this fic while sick, so if this is totally incoherent, that's why - and I'll just have to do my best to fix it when I'm better😆 (As always this is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) 💕🕊️ Warnings: language, mentions of war

“I am not being overdramatic,” Nixon insists in what can only fairly be described as a rather theatrical tone. 

Dick only glances up from across the table, an eyebrow quirked as he studies his friend. He nods slightly. Thank you for proving my point, the gesture seems to say.

“Nix,” he says, his tone serious, even though he opts for his friend’s nickname instead of a more reprimanding Lewis. “I don’t think comparing anyone to Sobel is fair.”

Nixon drops his fork and holds his hands up in surrender. “Whoa, okay. All I said was that if she wanted to, (Y/N) could give him a run for his money. That’s all.”

“They’re nothing alike,” Dick deadpans.

Nothing alike? A bit nondramatic, in Nixon’s opinion. An understatement for sure. He starts to protest, but Dick cuts him off.

“I think the two of you just got off on the wrong foot.”

Scoffing, Nixon leans back in his chair. “Well, I wouldn’t call overhearing someone explicitly talking about how they think you’re unqualified for your job getting off on the wrong foot. But close enough, I guess.”

“That’s not what I said.”

The voice is enough to startle both Nixon and Winters – although the ginger presses his lips together in a way that suggests he’s only just managing to repress a smile as he takes in your arrival on the scene. Nixon, on the other hand, has to forcibly close his mouth to stop from gaping at your sudden presence.

“What I said,” you continue. “was that I wasn’t sure how well a Yale man would hold his ground amongst the other officers.”

A frown tugs at the corners of Nixon’s mouth. For once, he’s grateful that part of his upbringing included lessons in how to conceal one’s true emotions lest someone gain the upper hand by using them against him. He presses his lips into a thin line and steels himself.

“Remind me where you studied again, Lieutenant?”

Your face pales. Bingo! You may have had him there for a second, but he’s struck a nerve.

“It was just a joke,” you say, your voice quiet.

Nixon only shrugs before turning back to Dick. There are footsteps as you walk away, but he doesn’t turn to see you go. Instead, he tries to concentrate on his tray of food. Tries being the operative word, since Dick seems intent on staring at him with that look of utter disappointment on his face that could make a saint feel guilty.

“What?” He stabs some broccoli with his fork, not looking up.

Dick sighs. “It was a joke, Nix.”

The potatoes on the corner of his tray are his next victim. Unseasoned and questionably cooked as they are, Nixon still puts all his focus into getting them firmly on his fork.

“Why does it bother you so much?”

Now he looks up. “Huh?”

“The joke,” Dick clarifies. “Why did it bother you so much?”

It’s not so much that the jab at his alma mater bothers him. It’s just . . . Huh. Why does it bother him? The way it’s said, perhaps, or the people it was said in front of. After all, it was one of the first things that you said upon Nixon’s arrival after his promotion. Not a good look for a newcomer in such a prestigious position. If he wanted people to poke fun at him despite his achievements, he could have just stayed home.

Sure, that’s probably it, he tells himself. You’ve just hit a nerve. No need to psychoanalyze this whole thing.

To Dick’s question, he only shrugs.

His friend, thankfully, does not press the issue.

. . .

Lewis Nixon, you’re beginning to realize, does not forgive and forget.

Well, that’s too bad, because all the other officers seem to think that he’s funny and charming. And they’re right. But clearly those qualities are not on display whenever you’re around. And you’re not about to ingratiate yourself to him by groveling for forgiveness over some stupid offhanded joke.

Too bad. Because you’re a big enough person to admit that despite his flaws, Lewis Nixon has his good qualities – not to mention that he’s handsome.

“Why are you staring at me?”

The sudden question draws you out of your thoughts. You blink, back in the present moment.

“Pardon?”

“You’re staring at me,” Nixon says. He doesn’t look up from the stack of mail that he’s censoring, intent on his work.

You avert your gaze, trying to ignore the heat you feel rushing to your cheeks. The words on the letter in front of you turn to nonsense the more you try to focus on them. If you work hard enough, you won’t be tempted to let your thoughts wander to the man sitting across the table from you.

“Here.” A letter lands on top of the one you’re reading as Nixon, once again, interrupts your thoughts. Startled, you look up to find him looking at you rather expectantly.

The letter he’s tossed to you looks familiar. It takes you a moment to realize that it’s written in your handwriting – a letter that you wrote to your family back in the states. When you glance up at him, he turns back to his own work.

“You spelled accommodate wrong. Thought you might want to fix it before sending it off to your family.”

Oh of course he would point out your mistake like that! Anyone else would have let it go. Your family will be so thrilled by the letter that they wouldn’t even give the misspelling a second thought.

The sigh that you push through your nose comes out louder than you expect it to. Nixon, however, doesn’t look up. Swallowing your pride, you aim for a tone that’s halfway pleasant.

“Thank you, Nixon.”

Is it your imagination, or does the corner of his mouth twitch slightly? A smirk, perhaps.

“You’re welcome, (Y/L/N).”

. . .

Though the world no longer trembles with the barrage of artillery fire, you keep your hands pressed firmly over your ears, staying low in the foxhole. Is it the cold causing you to shake, or the adrenaline that still courses through your veins?

You had been out making rounds when the shelling began, just trying to make sure that the rest of Easy Company was okay. The shellings are always unexpected, but this one caught you out in the open, exposed. You had had to dive into the nearest foxhole, hoping for the best as you hid from the explosions just outside.

Someone had grunted when you fell into the foxhole, your elbow connecting with their stomach. There had been no chance to apologize over the loud, cracking booms that filled the air.

After a shelling, there always seems to be a moment – a split second, really – of silence before it all goes to hell again. Then the calls for a medic will break out and everyone will jump into action, throwing around orders amid the screams and groans of the injured.

Now, as you wait for the few seconds of silence, you feel the person beneath you shift.

“Sorry,” you mutter, your arms shaking as you attempt to push yourself off of them.

“Christ,” a familiar voice grumbles. “My fucking ribs.”

Nixon’s voice is all the motivation that you need to push yourself the rest of the way off of him. Still full of adrenaline, you push yourself back on your heels, staying low in the foxhole, but ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

The Princeton man rubs his ribs. “You came out of nowhere. That really – “ He pauses, his expression shifting into one that you’ve never seen on him before as his brows furrow. Gently, he leans towards you. “Hey, (Y/N). Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine.”

“You look – “

Ka-BOOM!

The air splits in two as the second round starts. The shell must hit somewhere very near your foxhole, because the reverberations its impact sends through the ground cause you to topple forward, straight into Nixon.

Before you can even think about pushing yourself away from him again, something strange happens: you feel his arms wrap around you, drawing you in, close and tight, as the barrage continues. You bury your face in his shoulder.

When the second round ends, you both remain still, breathing heavily as you wait for whatever comes next. Only when it’s clear that the Germans are no longer firing do you pull away from each other. Neither of you looks the other in the eye.

“Sorry about your ribs.”

“Huh? Oh. They’re fine.”

Neither of you leaves the foxhole until absolutely necessary. And the next time that the Germans begin firing, when you somehow find yourself back in the same foxhole, neither of you seem to question how easily you wrap your arms around each other, bracing for the impacts and explosions.

The fog of war is a hell of a thing.

. . .

“Medic! We need a medic!”

The call is so unexpected that Nixon actually stops midsentence and turns his attention towards the panicked voice. Several others follow suit. After all, in the middle of Berchtesgaden, who would need a medic? It’s not like they’re in combat. And there’s nothing and no one around that should be putting anyone in danger.

Dick jumps into action immediately. Of course he does; he cares so deeply for his men – anyone can see that. It’s especially evident in this moment as he steps forward to intercept the panicked looking Talbert.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“(Y/L/N) needs a medic.”

Despite his wishes, Nixon feels his heart skip a beat at the mention of your name. It’s because of the startling and unusual news that Tab is delivering, he tells himself.

“For what?” he asks at the same time that Dick takes charge of the situation, charging down the street they’ve been standing on, yelling out that he needs to find Doc Roe.

As soldiers snap to attention trying to find the trusted medic, Nixon moves closer to Talbert.

“What happened to (Y/L/N)?”

Talbert takes a step back, his eyes wide, like he’s being confronted by a madman. Sure, Nixon’s tone was a little demanding – a little worried – but there’s really no need for the other man to look so shocked.

“A couple of us were out exploring the woods,” Tab explains. “She caught her ankle on a root and tripped. Might be just a sprain, but it looks pretty nasty.”

“Where is she now?”

“We got her back to the house that she was quartering in – Hey! Nix, where are you going?”

Talbert’s voice fades behind him as Nixon rushes down the street. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he’s vaguely aware of people stopping to stare at him as he passes, his pace a barely restrained run.

Several shocked faces look up at him when he bursts into the house. He stops in the doorway of the living room, staring into where you are.

You sit on the couch, one leg propped up beside you. Other than the swelling in your ankle, you look okay – if not a little surprised, that is, to see Nixon gaping at you like this. For what it’s worth, the few Easy men who are scattered throughout the living room look just as stunned.  

“(Y/N),” Nixon breathes. Coming back to himself, he clears his throat, willing his heart rate to slow down to normal levels.

“Um . . . I think we should – we should maybe clear out, yeah guys? Give (Y/N) some room to breathe,” Babe suggests.

Casting glances between you and Nixon, the other men squeeze past him in the doorway as they make their way out of the house. Behind him, the door closes, but Nixon doesn’t move. Somewhere within the house, through all the silence between the two of you, a clock chimes to signal the top of the hour.

“Can I help you?” You finally ask.

“We’re at the end of the war.” Nixon’s voice, once again, is louder than he intended it to be. He clears his throat again before pushing on. “We’re at the end of the war, and you somehow got hurt.”

“I tripped in the woods. So what?”

“So what? I was worried about you!” The words are out of his mouth before they have his permission to be spoken. They’ve escaped before he truly grasps the gravity of what he’s just said.

You quirk an eyebrow – a rather sarcastic expression that he’s come to know on you, but your voice is quiet when you ask, “You were worried about me?”

He was worried about you, he realizes suddenly. And he’s been worried about you for some time now, though he can’t place when his feelings towards you softened, when he started to care.

“Yeah,” he admits. “I want you to get home safely.”

“Why is that?”

His head spins. Maybe you should have been put in intelligence, the way that you’re pressuring him for answers while keeping a collected tone. It’s exasperating, honestly, how you’ve somehow gained the upper hand.

But part of him . . . likes the feeling it gives him when the two of you spar like this.

Something tugs at the corners of your mouth. It might be a smile you’re trying to suppress, or one of the smirks that he’s come to know so well.

“Nixon, I think you’re very bad at expressing your emotions.”

He blinks. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” With your propped leg taking up the space beside you on the couch, you instead gesture to the chair that sits nearby. Without knowing why, Nixon takes a seat. It’s a bit like waiting outside the principal’s office, the anticipation of it all. “But,” you continue. “it’s kind of cute to see you so flustered.”   

You’re messing with him, surely. Yet he can’t find any sort of witty comeback.

After a moment of staring at each other, you nod with the assurance of someone who has finally made up their mind and is resigned to their fate. “I think it’s time I finally came clean.”

“About?”

“I think you know. But just to watch you squirm, I’m going to start at the beginning.”

He’s heard you tell stories before. The two of you could be here for a long time.

But, he thinks as you start your narrative, he’s starting to realize that he wouldn’t want it any other way.

[dib-thing-wannabe]

The Villain's Untold Moldings - Chapter One

next>>>

(Quickly, two things before y'all start reading this-

This doesn't mean that I'm quitting with my cu au content, I just needed to write this as it came to me at night and I have to share it with everyone else, so consider it more as a side project then anything else.

In this fanfic, Robot does not have his canon look, but instead has the Robot human (?) design made by @taxlthomas (Or @itsalldownhillfromherehoney because idk which to tag as they are the same person). This is something that I feel is important to mention as I don't think anyone could take it as seriously as I imagine it to be, so please check out their artwork before reading this if you don't know what it looks like. As I'm already tagging people, I'd also like to thank @genderlessjacky who helped me with the name of this fanfic!

Other than that, enjoy this!)

(Edit: I should mention that when I make more chapters, they will be featured on my pinned post, though I'm not tagging my pinned with the pj masks tags.)

Memory log 1 - Date: Sept. 7, 2005 - Time: 12:01

I turned on for the first time ever. I scanned the room I was in, standing on my charging pod, when the scan stopped as I laid my robotic eyes on a man. He had raven colored hair, fair skin, green eyes, and he was wearing a lab coat covered in oil. He seemed proud, yet tired.

"Hello, Robot. You may call me Mr. Mecano, or if you'd prefer, Master. I'm the one who made you!" He told me in a prideful tone.

"Hello, Master." I replied with, only having a monotone voice at the time.

He looked at me again, motioning me to follow him as he exits the room. I, of course, follow him. His house was much bigger than it looked from the charging pod, it was clear that he had the money to spend. I saw other robots around the place as I followed him, though they were much smaller than me and didn't do much.

We eventually made it to what is called a living room, with a large couch in the middle of it.

"Go ahead, sit down for a moment! I need to grab some people before I can tell you what your current purpose is!" Mr. Mecano told me, holding his hand towards the couch. I sat down on it as he exited the room.

After some time, I heard a female voice nearby. "Hunny, are you sure it's going to be safe? I mean, his body that you reused was originally made to harm any trespassers! Who knows how gentle he could get!" She spoke up.

"Dear, trust me, I have made the necessary adjustments to his physical body to be able to be as gentle as a mouse. And, before you even think about his coding, I took out anything that could harm someone who may be innocent!" He told her reassuringly.

She let out a soft sigh before telling him, "Okay, I believe you. I don't have any reason not to."

He walks back in with the woman trailing behind him, holding something wrapped in a blanket in her arms. The woman had long brown hair with a white streak in it, more tanned skin compared to Mr. Mecano yet it's still pale, blue eyes, and she was wearing a long nightgown, despite it being noon.

"Robot, this is my wife! You may call her Mrs. Mecano, or you may also call her Master!" He announced lovingly, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

"Hello Ma'am."

"... You know what, that works too!" He began walking towards me again, now with his wife in tow, as she is clearly nervous.

He gently grabs what's in her arms as he speaks in a soft yet energetic tone. "Now I can tell you what your purpose is!"

He walks closer to me until he is basically towering over me, as he begins to show me what's in the blanket.

"This is our son. His name is Romeo Mecano. He was born on August 31 of this year. You see, I need to continue to work so that my family and I can continue to live comfortably, but the baby still needs to be cared for, as my dear wife is having too many troubles recovering from his birth to safely take care of him without any assistance. Your job is to care for Romeo when neither of us can, and to make sure that whatever happens, he would never be harmed."

I nod my head as I looked closer at what was in the blanket. Sure enough, it was a baby. A sleeping baby with the same raven hair his father had, yet has the white streak in his hair that his mother passed down to him.

"Here, try and hold him! You're going to need to do it a lot anyway!" He said with a light in his eyes, as Mrs. Mecano bit her finger out of nervousness. I hold my arms out in what I had believed to be the correct way. He placed the child in my arms, and I just held my arms like that.

He chuckled before speaking again. "Robot, you are holding a small human being, not a platter! Don't be scared, gently bring him towards your chest more!"

After a moment of processing, I then held him similarly to how they held him. "Is this good, Master?"

"It's great! See, you just powered on, yet you're already learning all the necessities!" He cried out in a joyful manner, clearly more proud then ever.

He began conversing with his wife, but my memory doesn't remember their exact conversation, as I was paying full attention to Romeo at this point. I can only recall that Mr. Mecano was reassuring her that their son was safe in my hands and that he wouldn't ever make something that would hurt either one of them. I began to hold him in a way where he was facing me, my hands under his little armpits. After a few seconds, I held him near my chest, his tiny head resting on my shoulder as one of my hands gently cups it, and the other held his scrunched up body. My Master quickly took notice of this, and he only chuckled and said, "Yeah, he's going to be safe and sound."

The rest of the day was Mr. and Mrs. Mecano teaching me what to do during what situations, how to care for the child, how to care for wounds, ect. When Romeo finally woke up, he had icey blue eyes, though they told me that his eyes would darken overtime, but will most likely stay blue.

Memory log 7 - Date: Sept. 15, 2005 - Time: 20:21

A week has passed since I was first introduced to everything. Today I noticed that Mr. Mecano started acting strangely. Normally he works on other inventions and sells them, and tries to spend every spare second he could with either his wife, or if he's awake, Romeo. Meaning that I see him around ten to twenty times a day other then when he is in his workshop. Today though, I had only seen him once outside of his workshop, and it's already dark out. It was as if he was trying to avoid them today, especially his son, who he usually coddles every time he lays eyes on him.

As I was patrolling the house, something I normally do when not given a task to complete, Mrs. Mecano approached me.

"... Hey, Robot? Can you tell me something?" Her voice was filled with worries and woe's as she asked me this.

"Of course, Ma'am."

"Do you think that my husband has been acting... strange, today? I mean, I don't think that this is a bad thing, but I need a second opinion on it."

I stood silent for a moment, trying to find the words to tell her that I agree with her without her feeling anymore worried. "Yes Ma'am, I do. Though I believe it's nothing to worry about just yet. I saw that he didn't get as much sleep as he normally does last night, so there is a great chance that is what's causing him to act strangely."

".. Yeah, you're probably right. Though just in case, I'm going to talk to him about it. If Romeo wakes up, please watch him for me until I'm done."

This caught me off guard, as she doesn't like it when it's only me and Romeo together alone. I believe she's either starting to finally trust me, or she's too worried about her husband to think properly.

"Of course, Ma'am."

She let out a sigh of relief before speaking again.

"Thank you, Robot." She then began heading downstairs towards the workshop.

She didn't say a word to me as she went back to her bedroom two hours later, so I am guessing she wasn't able to get anything out of him. Romeo is growing rather fond of me, so I don't think he mind the fact that he had seen me more than he had seen his dad today.

Memory log 13 - Date: Sept. 21, 2005 - Time: 15:34

Mr. and Mrs. Mecano have been agruing for what has felt like non-stop today so far. After he started randomly distancing himself from his family, Mrs. Mecano has been trying to talk to him more and more about it, yet he's been practically pushing her away. This is what seems to be their first ever argument in their entire relationship. I began standing near the doorway of their bedroom, as the tention began rising between them.

"Oh my GOD, WHY WON'T YOU GET THE FUCK OFF MY BACK?! I AM WORKING MY ASS TO PROVIDE FOR EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE, AND THIS IS THE THANKS I GET FOR IT!?" His voiced boomed through the house.

"H-Hunny, please!! I'm not trying to be overbearing, I'm j-just getting worried! You have never acted like this before!!!" She yelled back, holding in tears as she tries to talk to him.

"OH, PLEASE! YOU ARE ALWAYS GETTING WORRIED ABOUT SOMETHING THAT I DO, EVEN WHEN I TELL YOU THAT EVERYTHING IS FINE, BUT NOOOOOO! SOMETHING IS TERRIBLY WRONG WITH EVERY SINGLE FUCKING THING I DO!!"

"SIMON!!" Her voice strained, now with tears rolling down her face. This is the first time I have ever heard her call him anything other than his nickname.

Now they are in a full on shouting match, throwing accusations at one another, from cheating to lying about their past. Clearly, this is turning into something much more serious than it once was.

Suddenly, I heard Romeo crying from his crib, so hesitantly, I go to tend for him while they continue to scream at one another.

I quickly go into his room and shut the door behind me, trying not to let him hear the yelling from his parents. Yes, he may be a baby who wouldn't have a clue what was happening, but that doesn't mean that it wouldn't effect him. Thankfully, they made his room soundproof, so he couldn't hear them at all as long as we stayed inside his nursery.

"Shhhhhhhh, shhhhhhhhh, hey, hey hey, it's okay, it's okay." I softly spoke to him, as I scooped him up into my arms. "Don't cry, don't cry, you are okay, you are going to be okay."

After a few minutes of shushing him and patting his back gently, he eventually stopped crying, but he clearly still wasn't happy. I held him up to my face level, and start mimicking his cooing noises that he normally makes when he's happy. After a few seconds, he starts making the noises back.

"Yaaay! There you go, now who's a happy boy? Who's a happy bouncing baby boy~?"

He started getting louder with his cooing as I did this, reaching his tiny hands to me.

"Yes, you are! You are just a happy boy!"

I stayed with Romeo for a few more hours in his room, taking care of him. He seems to have me as his favorite 'person' in this household, especially lately, where I have had to take sole care of him as his parents argue, like they have been for the past week. I only left him alone after around 15 minutes of him being asleep. It's now 20:57, and his parents seem to have finally stopped with their bickering and gone to bed.

Memory log 14 - Date: Sept. 22, 2005 - Time: 02:31

I woke up from my charging pod as my internal sensors started going off.

*DANGER! DANGER! DANGER! A PERSON IN THE PREMISES HAS BEEN GRAVELY INJURED!*

Quickly, I get off of the pod and start scanning the area for the person who had gotten hurt.

After a few minutes of scanning the area, I finally had found who it was. It was... Mrs. Mecano. She was laying at the bottom of the steps, bleeding out. She had been shot in the stomach.

As I walked up to her, about to try and stop the bleeding before I called an ambulance, she started talking in a strained and tired voice.

"D-don't.. help me y-yet-" She coughed between her words, blood spilling out of her throat. "G-get.. m-my son.."

"Romeo? You want me to get Romeo?"

"H-he-" she coughed again, now speaking in more urgency. "I fear.. that h-he is next..."

As I realized what she was talking about, I nodded my head and quickly began rushing to his nursery. Who could in their right mind go and shoot a child after shooting their mother? Especially a baby, who could have never done any wrong to any person ever. I gained sight of the nursery door, and it was wide open. Quickly, I ran over and looked inside. A figure was standing above the crib... with a gun. Pointing. At. Romeo.

*TARGET ACQUIRED*

My arm extended from the doorway to the figure, wrapping itself around his arm, making the gun in his hand now aim to the floor. Before I can think, I lifted the arm it was intangled in, and threw it from where it was standing to the railing behind me, causing a giant crack sound to be made. I looked at the figure, now behind me..

"... Master?"

He groaned before speaking, struggling to get up on his feet, using the almost broken railing to lift himself up.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT, YOU STUPID ROBOT?! DON'T YOU SEE THAT YOU'RE MASTER IS TRYING TO KILL THAT ANNOYING LITTLE SHI-"

Before he could finish his sentence, I covered his mouth from behind him, having a tight grip on his face as I silenced him. I began talking lowly and slowly, as if I was growling as I spoke.

"I did that because you told me to. You said that my purpose was to take care of Romeo when neither of you could, and to make sure that whatever happens, he would never be harmed. But you. You tried to kill him after almost killing your wife." I moved his head towards the downstairs, facing him to Mrs. Mecano's close to lifeless body. "I may not experience the same emotions or have the same 'morals' as humans do, but I am disappointed in your actions. You are the biggest monster that this town has probably ever seen."

I let go of him entirely, having his full body weight fall onto the railing.

"Now, if you can behave and control your emotions, I'll go and make sure that you didn't hurt your child over a silly argument that wasn't even involving him."

I walk over to the crib and look down. There he is... the sweet baby boy, safe and sound, just sleeping. Unaware of the event that just occurred.

Now that I know that he isn't hurt, I can now call an ambulance and the police for Mrs. Mecano-

*BAM*

The sound of a gunshot going off filled the homes silence, and soon after, Romeo began crying, having woken up by the sudden noise and getting scared. I turned around to face the man with the gun, and-

... he shot himself. His body is laying on the ground, now lifeless. He must have realized what he had done, and what he was about to do next, and out of sudden grief and shock, he shot his brains out.

Okay, okay, there is no way they can be able to save him, but Mrs. Mecano still has potential to be saved. I can still call the ambulance for her, and then everything else will be fine-

"Sorry, your call wasn't able to reach the person you were trying to contact, please check your connection or try dialing a different number-"

"What?? Why would I not be able to call 911?"

I redialed the number, thinking it had to be some sort of mistake.

"Sorry, your call wasn't able to reach the person you were trying to contact, please check your connection or try dialing a different number-"

"Come on!!"

I check outside of the window, and there is no lights on. Anywhere. Not in the streets, not in anyone's windows, no where were lights on. Then I remembered something that made everything click.

They turned the cities power off. They turned it off because the wires connected to everything were getting faulty and too dangerous to not replace. There was a city wide announcement about it a few days ago, and Mr. Mecano knew that. He knew that, and that's why he shot himself. Because he shot his wife, the love of his existence, and there was nothing no one could do to save her.

I realized that Romeo was still crying heavily, with his poor little voice going hoarse. I quickly scooped him up again, and held him close.

I whispered quietly to him, trying to calm him down. "Shhhhhhhh, shhhhh, it's okay, you're okay, you are going to be fine.. I'll make sure of it..."

I headed downstairs towards my now late Masters workshop with Romeo in my arms, desperate to find something, anything, that could help me out with this situation. As I opened the door, my sensors started going off again.

*DANGER! DANGER! DANGER! TOXIC FUMES IN THE AIR! DANGEROUS TO HUMANS AND ANIMALS!*

I quickly closed the door to the workshop, backing away from it as I held Romeo closer to my chest. He wasn't acting like this because he was stressed, or tired, or covering up for something else. He was poisoned while in his workshop. A gas leak broke out and he didn't realize it until it was too late.

I ran out of the house, trying not to get Romeo harmed with the gases as well, because they were bound to spread to the rest of the house overtime. I ran out to the backyard, where I found the ship. The flying ship Mr. Mecano made in case of an 'emergency'. It was to live in, and it could go anywhere in the world given enough power. Thankfully, it had full power and it wasn't going to run out of it for at least twenty years. I board it with Romeo still in my arms, a little fussy but much better than before. I didn't start flying it, as there wasn't a place where Romeo can rest in it. I sat down on the couch in what I believe was the living room of the machine.

What do I do? It's not like I know how to take care of children older than three years old, and I still need a charging pod, yet I don't detect one in here. He can't go back in there, there's too many dangers for a baby to live in there. What to do, what to do...

I held him close to me still, as he fell asleep on my chest.

... I can worry about that tomorrow, I have plenty of power to last through the night.

Memory log 3,663 - Date: Sept. 19, 2015 - Time: 01:42

I was sitting down on the couch, in the living room of the flying machine, charging. When suddenly, I heard a slam from the metal door connected to the living room.

Romeo walked through it, mumbling to himself.

"Stupid PJ masks, ruining my plans for no reason other than 'beINg GoOd'! UUUGH!!"

"Still having trouble figuring out a new plan, Master?"

"No!.. well, yeah. But come on!! It was my greatest plan yet! But noooo! Those PJ Masks need to stop it! AAAAGH, I HATE THEM, I HATE THEM, I HATE THEM!!" He screamed out, stomping his feet out of frustration.

"I know, I know. Want a hug to let all your frustrations out?" I told him, holding out an arm to him.

Romeo scoffs before speaking in an annoyed tone. "No! What am I, a baby?!"

I continue to hold my arm out to him, closing my eyes. After a few seconds of silence, he quickly crawled into my arms, and begins to reach his arms out to me.

I chuckled softly before picking him up higher. "Thought so, Master. C'mere."

"Quiet, Robot.." He whispered in an embarrassed voice.

I placed him on my chest, where his head rested on my shoulder. He hugged me back, letting out a soft sigh as he let his full body weight on me. I caressed the back of his head and ran my fingers through his hair as I begin to hum.

After a few minutes, Romeo is fast asleep on me, fully relaxed.

To think that you were able to fit in my hands at one point, yet now, doing the same thing that I did when I first met you, you've truly gotten so much bigger..

[literaticat]

Hi Jenn. After all these years agenting, do you still find it exciting and challenging (in a good way) or do you sometimes have to find new ways to keep it from becoming mundane at times? Hope I'm asking this right. I guess what I mean is, what advice do you have for others in the publishing field - agents, editors, authors - or even any job (!) to keep things fresh and stimulating without becoming dull and repetitive?

I find it exciting and challenging, and very rarely would I characterize it as dull or repetitive or mundane, actually. (Even theoretically "dull" activities like data entry or whatever -- while maybe ANNOYING sometimes -- are still of short enough duration that they aren't really any of those other things!)

There's just always some new project, challenge, puzzle to figure out, and one day rarely looks just like the next. (I guess it might from an outside perspective -- like "okkkkkay, she's sat at her computer for 8 hours... the next day she's sat at her computer for 8 hours..." these seem the same! BUT I PROMISE THEY ARE DIFFERENT!)

So where MY problem comes in is not in boredom or anything like that -- it's more: A) PANIC because no matter how much I do, there's literally always more to do. I can't get to inbox zero, the inbox doesn't have a bottom. I can't finish a to-do list this week, or any week, things are just getting added as fast as I can do them. and B) PROCRASTINATION - like right now is my "day off" but I started to low-key panic about the things I have to do. Like, I have to -- HAVE TO!!! -- do my taxes and clean my house, because my mom is coming in a couple of days and the house is a wreck AND I know while she's here I won't have time to do my taxes and whatever whatever -- so instead I'm SCREWING AROUND ON TUMBLR. -- so B is both a result of, and cause of, A. That's my struggle. (And if anyone has advice, hmu.)

I guess my advice if you DO have a repetitive job is, try and break it up into smaller bits, and do other things in between? Like, I can't give notes on multiple books in a row, or read multiple contracts in a row -- I can do ONE, and then I have to do something entirely different, using a different part of my brain. Like I can edit a book, then update social media -- then I can do a contract, but then go outside and just read a published book -- then I can look at queries, etc. But if I tried just editing a book or reading contracts or looking at queries all day long, I'd die.

So if you are a writer, maybe you have dedicated time that you know you can be head down, butt in chair, just writing your face off -- a time when you are by yourself and don't have to worry about feeding any children or animals or anything like that. Focus on that for that dedicated stretch of time -- no looking at email or the news. Then take a break that is totally different -- walk the dog! Make an omelette! Call your mom! -- then, go back to work, but this time, you are editing something you wrote last week. Then, give yourself a treat, have a cup of tea, look at social media. Then, go back to work, but this time you are doing admin -- updating your website, or getting shit together for an event next week, or whatever.

ALSO, I got this piece of advice from a productivity expert (paraphrasing, and also, advice that I should actually take myself but I just remembered about it right now!) Basically, rather than having a lengthy to-do list that feels daunting -- your daily to-do list should be THREE ITEMS. Pick three. ONLY. THREE.

Then when you do those three things, you're done for the day -- you can give yourself a gold star and stop -- OR, you can try for another three.

I do find that when I actually focus -- like, OK, I have ONE HOUR to do this task and only this task, head down, timer on -- or OK, I am going to sit here and do THREE AGENDA ITEMS -- then I actually do them. Whereas if I have a nebulous long list, it's much harder to do!

OK NOW I AM GONNA GO DO MY TAXES BYE.

[strobbylemonade]

accompanying progress photos

edit: here's the sinner quotes in case the vfx are too strong. and you're not bothered to scroll to every half second. btw i kept all the spellings of names from the translations i used to prevent confusion. but it is still pretty confusing.

yi sang (the end poem of The Wings): I stopped my pace and wanted to shout. Wings, spread out again! Fly. Fly. Let me fly once more. Let me fly just once more

faust (god talks to mephistopheles about faust): He drives his spirit outwards, far, / Half-conscious of its maddened dart: / From Heaven demands the brightest star, / And from the Earth, Joy’s highest art / And all the near and all the far, / [But] Fails to release his throbbing heart.

don quixote (idk the context i stole it off of goodreads ngl): When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? Perhaps to be too practical is madness. To surrender dreams — this may be madness. Too much sanity may be madness — and maddest of all: to see life as it is, and not as it should be!

ryoshu (yoshihide, her inspiration, requested to watch a woman be burnt in a carriage so he could finish his portrait of hell. the emperor agrees to his request but burns his daughter instead): No longer did his eyes seem to mirror the image of his daughter's agonised death. His eyes seemed to delight beyond measure in the beautiful color of the flame and the form of the woman writing in her last infernal tortures.

meursault (at the end of the novel, before his execution, he realises the world doesn't care for him, and gains happiness through this realisation): As if that blind rage had washed me clean, rid me of hope; for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world.

hong lu (pao yu/baoyu/hong lu discovers his soulmate died on the day of his arranged marriage, and falls into such a suicidal depression that his soul slips into the spirit world): Utterly broken, Pao Yu sank back on his pillows. It became black as lacquer before his eyes, and his spirit became lost in the semidarkness of a distant dreamland.

heathcliff (i don't think i need to explain this one): Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living. You said I killed you—haunt me then. Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad. Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!

ishmael (don't need to explain this one either): Call me Ishmael. Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world.

rodya (sonia confronts rodion about his actions and he goes on a mad rant to her while trying to justify his actions, scaring sonia in the process. i thought this one was really good for rodya's "stagnation" in tkt): Did I murder the old woman? I murdered myself, not her! I crushed myself once for all, for ever…. But it was the devil that killed that old woman, not I. Enough, enough, Sonia, enough! Let me be!’ he cried in a sudden spasm of agony, ‘let me be!’

dante (another goodreads victim. appropriate for their job as manager): Through me you go into a city of weeping; through me you go into eternal pain; through me you go amongst the lost people.

sinclair (he comes to terms with his childhood ending - demian has dealt with kromer's bullying, but sinclair feels forever changed by kromer introducing him to sin/crime): What had once been Franz Kromer was now embedded in me. And in this way the 'other world' was gaining power over me from outside.

outis (ulysses returns home to his wife penelope, who assumes he is dead. in their house, he pretends to be a stranger to her): So here inside your home, question me about anything you wish except my family or native land, in case you fill my heart with still more grief, as I remember them.

gregor (his final thoughts before his slow suicide by starvation. i included the family line for irony. the apple in his back was thrown at him by his father): The rotting apple in his back and the inflamed area around it already hardly troubled him. He thought of his family with tenderness and love.

virgillius (virgil's introduction in Inferno): I will be thy guide, / And lead thee hence through the eternal place, / Where thou shalt hear the desperate lamentations, / Shalt see the ancient spirits disconsolate, / Who cry out each one for the second death.

charon (this is from Aenid, a latin epic poem by Virgil, the poet who inspired virgil in Inferno): The sullen boatman admits sometimes these, sometimes those; while others to a great distance removed, he debars from the banks.

and a sigmund freud quote about ego: Driven by the id, confined by the superego, repulsed by reality.

also more details in order of when they appear:

angela is far paler in her pale librarian form than her lobcorp form (i SHOULD HAVE included her eye pattern in her lobcorp form but i didnt)

benjamin's broken heart at the first “give me your heart ringing like” which is covered by his tie. some symbolism for him putting aside his morals to work for ayin (speaking of i really wish i included more ayin and carmen in here)

my friend called the pose where angela puts out her hand to roland the 'angela ibuprofen' and i cant stop thinking about it (said friend’s friend then sent her this video)

the first ... --- ... has the dots cover roland's face to mimic his perception blocking mask. the dashes show up in the order angela cuts off his limbs at the start of lor

lobcorp yesod is looking at malkuth because her death is what pushed him over the edge to develop contamination paranoia. also i thought it was weird they mention he was covered head to toe but he wore a crewneck t-shirt and an open labcoat so i changed it to closed labcoat + turtleneck

lobcorp hod has enkephalin on her hands because she feels guilty for what happened to netzach, both his death and addiction

enoch is completely uninjured in the lobcorp flashback

this is just hard to see but the crib is on the left of roland's flashback where he's sitting on the couch

i'm really satisfied with the gebura to olivier transition. yipeee.

puppet angelica's heart is exposed although its pretty hard to see

binah/hokma's 'hearts' are references to their lobcorp breakdown form

i forgot to colour in leviathan vergillius' eyes orz

and when the end credits start rolling the text changes to the taglines of the games (e.g. it says 'song: Face the Fear, Build the Future')

SAVE THIS GAME MR. A

[mischief-lies-and-stories]

Reacting to Animated Marvel Shows 1/?

Taking a break from my Loki rewatch to react to another animated Marvel show because I saw SIGYN in the thumbnail of this episode and got excited. Is Loki going to treat Sigyn poorly? Almost definitely. Is Marvel going to treat both of them poorly? Almost definitely. Am I going to watch it anyway because I'm a glutton for punishment? Absolutely. Let's get started.

[Post-watch edit: Sigyn is NOT in this. It is a case of mistaken identity in the thumbnail because this is the only episode of this show I've watched. I've been bamboozled and I'm still pissed about it. Sorry if I got your hopes up. I got mine up too.]

Spoilers for Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes 2x15

Okay so already in the recap I'm seeing they buried the lead and this is NOT the only episode of this show Loki is in. So once again I will be consuming Loki content backwards. Cool.

Fuck yeah Surtur, crush Amora in your fiery hand!!

Okay recap over

New York always just has tanks casually rolling around

Fuck no I SWEAR TO GOD IF I THOUGHT AMORA WAS SIGYN IN THE THUMBNAIL I'M GONNA BE SO PISSED

Loki that was the most chill groan of pain I've ever heard. Isn't this shit supposed to HURT? It seems like you're more annoyed than anything else.

Fuck I'm sorry y'all. Sigyn is not in this. Goddammit Marvel. IT'S THE VENOM MYTH [not Venom like the character] AND YOU PUT AMORA THERE INSTEAD OF SIGYN??? THE BITCH WHO BETRAYS HIM TIME AND AGAIN INSTEAD OF HIS WIFE. FUCK Y'ALL.

How fucking rude to replace Sigyn with AMORA. Just add to his fucking torture, Jesus.

Amora has Maleficent horns. Bitch take those off you ain't shit. You can't hold a candle to Maleficent. Get the fuck out of here and go get Sig.

Wait why does Thor still get to be buff but not Steve?

Dude the theme goes too hard for this show

The balls on Thor to call his fucking bodybuilder shit a frail form in front of Cap's asthmatic, wrinkly ass

Eew Amora stop touching Loki's face

WHERE IS SIGYN MARVEL I'M STORMING YOUR HEADQUARTERS

SHE JUST GAVE HIM THE ARMOR SIGYN WENT TO GREAT LENGTHS IN THE OLD COMICS TO GET FOR LOKI'S SOUL TO INHABIT (I mean it might be the Destroyer armor but I'm angry anyway so I'm going with the first option)

THEY JUST TIT FOR TAT REPLACED SIGYN WITH AMORA FUCK THIS WHAT THE HELL

Goddammit am I gonna have to write an AU for this episode specifically, where Sigyn shows up and punches Amora's lights out, like Get away from my husband, bitch!

Cap looks like he's both eleven and ninety

Damn it is the Destroyer, but I think Loki possesses it which is the thing that happens in the old comics? Idk, I only know this secondhand.

Steve I'm begging you to lose your temper just once. Thor is towering over you, at least twice your body mass, can still walk with a broken leg and hasn't once complained of the pain, but anytime the fucker opens his mouth it's to complain about how weak he is. Meanwhile you could drop dead any second, polio has been eradicated in the US and you've already gotten it, but you could probably breathe wrong and immediately need an iron lung in 2010 with your luck.

Thor says "That voice" like he didn't grow up for thousands of years with Loki by his side. Like this isn't fucking, I don't know, Ultron, someone you've fought once (I know they tend to fight him more in the comics and animated shows), that's your BROTHER

Tony saving Steve was cute

THOR FUCK OFF DID YOU JUST PLACE THAT VOICE YOU DUMBASS

Good job, Clint. You helped.

Well do we call that Sigynbait? Healthy relationship bait? Whatever it is I'm fucking pissed and I'm going to have to change my intro for this post to reflect it because I don't do clickbait (which you already know because you aren't reading my draft).

[obey-me-rot]

You're Mine

A/N: I guess as a writing blog I should be doing some writing right? Honestly this has just been the biggest headcanon I've had in a while since I started playing Obey Me of the brothers just...like Devildom culture must be so different! And then the whole pact thing with human masters must be so different as well! I just view them as big animals just wanting to get your attention u wu. Warnings: Jealous boys, public shows of dominance and a lot of biting.

It's almost painful being in the Devildom sometimes.

A cultural exchange program amped up to 100 %.

As much as you loved the brothers, you also were meeting some pretty cool demons in RAD. Surely you were the human student everyone was so excited to meet, but none of them really talked to you, you know? But there were some that were brave enough to overlook your pact marks and dive into a conversation.

Even some were bold enough to talk to you out of school!

Making so many friends was so exciting, especially since you still thought of yourself as new! Wait till the brothers see how many new demons you have met!

Problem is you forgot how weird demon culture is, especially when it has to do with a demon and their master.

"MC?"

Lucifer blinks as he notices the demon approaching the two of you, pausing your daily walk with him as confusion turns to familiarity and you run up to greet your friend.

The first thing he notices is how they are a low ranking demon, so there’s no need to be hyper aware of any sort of threat. In this instance he doesn’t need to look to make sure his pact mark is visible to the demon.

His mark was embedded right in your iris, so anyone could see whose protection you were under.

He smiles politely as you turn around to introduce them, the demon waving at him shyly as if remembering that, yes, this human made a pact with Lucifer and therefore should not be messed with in any way. Yet there was no sort of violent tendencies coming from this demon, which put him at somewhat of an ease.

That is, until the demon takes a hold of your hand.

It’s a simple touch, one that a human would mistaken for a sign of friendship and camaraderie. The demon was speaking excitedly about a new flower they had seen over at the Botanical gardens and how much they wanted to show it off to you.They tighten their hold and Lucifer has to dig his fingernails into his palm from ripping their hand off.

You had no idea what it meant and the action would most likely scare you.

And Lucifer wanted you to trust him as much as possible.

“Would it be okay if Lucifer comes along?”

“...y--yeah! I don’t mind!”

Hesitation mixed with fake happiness, this demon really thought that he would get some time alone with you, didn’t they? They probably planned this whole thing out and whatever excitement they were showing you was just a front to hide their true intentions. Besides, look how they are hanging off of you, they want to make a pact with you so badly it’s almost disgusting.

Might as well get rid of the pest now.

“Come on MC, I want to show you the huge petals--!”

“OW!”

You and the demon look back to see Lucifer biting down on one of your fingers, your ring finger to be exact, while making eye contact with the pest. His teeth are not necessarily breaking skin but the pain of the bite made all your attention go back on him, turning around to tug your finger away and cradle it close. “Lucifer what the hell!”

He smiles and tells you not to worry about it, your retort falling on deaf ears as Lucifer’s eyes fall on the demon one more time. Their eyes are wide and they have immediately taken two steps back, their back as straight as a needle as Lucifer sends them one last look that lets them know of his intentions.

Leave now or I will gut you in front of my human.

You turn to apologize to your friend for putting them in such a weird situation but the demon is already long gone, no sign of them ever being in your presence as you look around aimlessly.

“They left...” you frown and look at Lucifer, ���Next time at least warn me.”

“If I did then you would have probably forbidden me from doing so.”

The Avatar of Pride smiles as he takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as you kept talking about how you would apologize the next day. But Lucifer wasn’t listening, he just kept staring at you as you talked, happy that his master wasn’t particularly mad.

That demon would have to learn to get his own, this human was already his.

He had finally gotten you all to himself.

Mammon had a photoshoot today, making you tag along so he could finally show off his modeling skills. And it would help him out as well. The product they were trying to sell did not appeal to him one bit and he just really needed you as inspiration.

And inspiration did you give.

“Oh gorgeous Mammon gorgeous! Lean back and close your eyes.”

The cameraman was giving him compliment after compliment, excellent after excellent, it was as if all eyes were on him at that exact moment. He smiled as he thought about how you must be looking at him. His shirt was open, letting the cloth hang off the side of the couch as the camera focused primarily on the low riding jeans that showed off the boxers he was promoting.

“Perfect! Perfect!! Now turn around and stare into the camera!”

His eyes opened and his head turned expertly, Mammon smiling as he tried to make eye contact with you--

Only to see that you were gone.

Camera flashes stop as he bolts up, turning to look for you before his eyes focused on your form.

There you were...talking with someone else.

“Mammon?”

He doesn’t stare at the cameraman, only gets up and stalks towards you and the demon currently holding up the lights. Both of you turn to face him, a voice speaking loudly about a five minute break as Mammon stands behind you and hugs you from behind, placing his chin right on your shoulder as he looks at the interloper.

“Are you taking a break?”

Mammon smiles as he buries his face in your shoulder, hugging you tight as the demon tells him he did a wonderful job. Without raising his head, Mammon speaks up.

“MC, who is this?”

“Oh right! Haven’t introduced you. He is a friend from RAD! We sit together in Pactology 101.”

“Well we used to sit together...”

“We talked way too much in class, didn’t we?”

It’s like nails on a chalkboard when he laughs, Mammon feeling glad that he was closer to you so he could hear the sound of your laughter instead of the ugly screeching of the intruder taking up your attention. Did this guy think he was stupid? That he couldn’t notice all the goddamn pheromones he was releasing? Mammon shakes his head back and forth, breathing in your scent heavily as he tries to leave his own behind.

This guy was embarrassing himself with how badly he wanted to form a pact with you.

“MC.”

“Oh oh, remember when the teacher caught us texting in class?”

“I think he might want to just put us back together cause we are still causing trouble!”

The Avatar of Greed frowns, did you not hear him?

“MC…”

“Well the teacher knows we are a good match, doesn’t he?”

“A match made in hell, I would say.”

Why was this guy still talking? Why were you still listening to him?

“MC….”

“Hey after this...would you want to go get some coffee, MC? If you’re not busy.”

“Nah, I only have this toda---FUCK!”

A pair of teeth tug at your earlobe, Mammon growling in your ear as he makes eye contact with the annoyance in front of him. He should be counting his lucky stars that you were still in the room, if Mammon found him anywhere else this demon would be nothing more than a meal for his familiars.

“MC, you have to stare at me or else I’m going to take longer.”

You rub at your ear as Mammon lets go of you, breaking eye contact with the other demon as he gives you his signature pout. He didn’t want you to see him be all scary, Mammon wanted you to see him like the number one demon he always tried to be for you.

“And you had to bite me because of that!?”

“Because you weren’t paying attention! You have to keep your eyes on me or else I’m not going to sell this stupid product. In fact--”

He drags you back to the couch, yelling at the cameraman that he would be posing with you so he could actually get through this photoshoot instead of doing a solo shoot. The man sighs but calls makeup to get you ready, Mammon smiling as he sits down right next to you.

The farther you were from that guy the better, all of his master’s attention needed to be on him after all.

Of course something like this would happen. Bad luck seemed to follow Leviathan wherever he went.

"Did you see the finale of it live?"

"I did!!! My movie theatre put it on the big screen and everything!"

Levi was glad that you were a nerd just like him. It was refreshing and probably one of the biggest reasons he had decided to make a pact with you.

Well, he had tried to kill you first and then make a pact with you but it was still a special story! Who would have thought that he would land himself a human master with his own interests!

Though he guessed that was a bad thing now.

He couldn't keep his thoughts in check as the clerk of the comic store kept talking to you, Levi annoyed that he couldn't keep up with the conversation you two had. It was about some comic cinematic universe that had been adapted in the human world and he honestly didn’t want to put anymore thought into it because of how close the clerk was getting.

Dammit he should have bought the new manga volume in Akuzon...but you had been so cute irl asking him to get the manga in this comic store you found,and if his master was begging him so cutely then what else could he do?

“I actually got the limited edition of this one movie--”

Nobody cared.

“It was up for a lot in Akuzon but I’m glad I got my hands on it--”

Stop talking!

“And I have a pretty cool viewing set up in the back--!”

Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking, stop talking to MC!

Levi frowns as you gush about the movie some more, glaring down at you for letting your attention stray from him. But why should he be surprised, of course your attention would stray. Him being the yucky otaku that he is, of course you would go with the demon who took his interest and actually turned it into a profit--

No.

No! It wasn’t your fault! It wasn’t even his fault! It was this demon’s fault!

Thinking they looked so cool with their most basic of interests. If Levi could expose them for the fraud that they were, MC would be able to see the absolute fool that this demon was making themselves out to be. Smiling a lot more, inching closer as they talked, even offering to take you to the back of the store--!

People may say what they want about Levi but at least he wasn’t this desperate to get on the good side of a human...at least the first time he met you.

His eyes fall on the back of your neck, hair conveniently placed out of the way as he remembered something Lucifer had discussed with him and Mammon after they had made their pact.

You will not think rationally when you are with them, make sure to monitor your actions so you don’t embarrass yourself.

That’s what he said but…

Surely Levi wasn’t going to embarrass himself more than this demon already has.

“This is the one with the symbiote creature, right? And you got the bonus deleted scenes! Honestly I would be so down with watching it right--EEP!”

Levi made sure to let his tongue lick the back of your neck first before biting down, wanting to make the bite as painless as possible. Although he guessed that not making you feel pain was out of the question as he felt you tense up, his tongue swiping against your nape one last time as he pulled back and tugged on the back of your shirt.

“MC let’s go. They don’t have it.”

You turn to look at Levi, hand on the back of your neck as you tell him that he could have gotten your attention in any other way, but he knew for a fact that he had made his point across with the demon in front of him.

Summoning Lotan in his own home was one thing, summoning Lotan in a store would probably cost a lot…

Even if he knew brothers wouldn’t blame him with how nauseatingly this demon was trying to approach their master.

“MC, here.”

Satan breaks his pencil, but it seems the two other people don’t seem to notice.

“And it's the first edition too, but I took it out just for you.”

You smile and mention about how you didn’t need anything fancy for the assignment, just a simple book that talked about Devildom history. Which Satan agreed, this bug was acting like he owned the entire Royal Library. A pass to get a first edition title wasn’t that rare of a fucking find--if he wanted, Satan could call up any of his connections and get about 16 copies of different first edition titles that spoke not just about the Devildom history but about whatever the hell topic he could get his hands on.

This guy wasn’t that special yet he was acting like he had just given you the world on a silver platter.

The demon sat down at the table you and Satan were studying at, looking at you the entire time he explained how to open the book and how to make sure it stays in its pristine condition.

Which made Satan break another pencil.

From what you had mentioned, this guy was just someone you knew from RAD. You labeled him as the ‘smartest person in the class’. Which was a bit of an insult on his part but he guessed that as long as he wasn’t the one in your class it didn’t count as an insult towards his person.

He, of course, being the smartest demon you know.

But Satan didn’t have to be the smartest demon in RAD to know what this nuisance was doing.

If he were to read you any book on Devildom demonology, certain demons needed a human master. This insect in front of you would count as one of them. Lower demons usually tend to be without guidance and need a soul to feed from. In comes a human master, being able to fulfill that need with a pure soul of their own. The demon feeds and in return, develops a sort of ‘affection’ towards their master since they are now the hand that feeds them.

The same couldn’t be applied to Satan or his brothers, however. As the seven demon lords, they are able to gain the sustenance they need from the feed of other lower demons under the sin they were made in.

They are free to form pacts, but it’s not like they need it.

A good metaphor would be that they are essentially ‘picking off the plate’ of the lower demons, making the lower demons only cause minimal casualties up in the human world as they feed and keeping the seven lords from going feral with hunger.

Of course, things were different now. Satan had you now, a human all of his own.

Essentially, someone was trying to ‘take a bite’ of his favourite food, and Satan hated sharing.

Friends be damned, politeness be damned, he needed to show this demon his place.

“Isn’t it fascinating? The cover was made with a demon’s skin.”

“....really?”

“Yes. I believe it was from recently dead demon’s during the first Celestial War. Do you want to feel?”

You nod, curious about the black and shiny cover as the demon holds out his hand for you to take--

Only for you to yelp as Satan takes it first, dragging your hand back so it would be close to his lips as the Avatar of Wrath’s teeth bite at the skin near your wrist. You hiss in pain at the sudden sharpness, quickly pulling your hand back and staring at your demon as he gives the annoyance one last pointed stare.

“That is how demons started their pacts before we arrived in the Devildom, wasn’t it?”

The demon nodded slowly, his eyes darting to the mark on your wrist and then back at Satan. He opened his mouth to try and speak up but seemed to decide better against it, giving you one last smile as he stood up. “...I’ll...I’ll go get you the second volume. That one might include more accurate and updated information on pact markings.”

Satan smiles and nods as he scoots his chair close to you, looking back at you tracing the mark on your wrist with a frown before putting all your attention back on him.

“Did demons really used to form pact marks like this?”

The Avatar of Wrath shrugs.

“I was only guessing, he was the one who left thinking it was the truth. Here, let’s go look for a book on our own.”

Asmo would like to think that he had perfected the fake smile to the point he could keep it up for an indeterminate amount of time.

“MC! Try this!”

Yet the corners of his mouth twitched as he watched one of your friends, who happened to be a store clerk at Majolish, open the door to your dressing room to hand you another outfit they had picked out. And it wasn’t a bad outfit--!

Just...did they have to keep opening the door every single time?

Granted, he shouldn’t be in your dressing room in the first place but he insisted he would stay since you were only trying some shirts on! It wasn’t like he was seeing anything inappropriate and your pants were staying on the entire time.

This sight was okay for him because he was your demon and you were his master.

So it wasn’t right that some random nobody kept coming in to hand you shirts that they thought looked cute on you! That’s what you had Asmo for!

Yet here he was, secluded to sit down on the little chairs that someone would usually toss the unwanted clothes they wouldn’t buy. Which was already doing horrible things for his self-esteem.

“I learned a couple of things by working here. See? The color really matches your hair.”

The Avatar of Lust scoffs when he hears that. What exactly did the demon learn? How to match colors? Oh look, someone learned the basics of the color wheel, someone give them a medal.

“And since you are wearing something long at the bottom, it’s only fair that you go with something short on top.”

This demon is going to win an award for making basic observations, Asmo could already see it. What a future they had ahead of them.

“These colors are summery too so...it goes great with the weather!”

Oh he wants to gag, Asmo’s heard enough.

“You don’t think it’s too revealing? I do like the color though…”

Before the demon can answer, Asmo grabs your shoulders and pulls you back to him with a smile as he makes you look in the mirror.

“I think it’s revealing enough for the summer look you are going for...except can you maybe get it in a light pastel? Any color would do it just needs to be a pastel color if we want it to go with the light color of your bottoms.”

The demon deflates at the sudden lack of contact with you but nods as they step out, waving goodbye and stating once again how ‘gorgeous’ you looked. Which Asmo guessed was the only compliment they had in their arsenal.

Gorgeous didn’t even begin to describe you.

“I did like this color, Asmo. Does it not look good?”

“No it looks perfect on you! But--”

He tugs on the floral print top and smiles as he wraps his arms around your shoulders.

“Floral prints are extremely last season and I want you to be on a more neutral type of clothing. Just simple colors. This way we can add some jewelry--some of my own creation of course.”

Asmo smiles when you giggle, fixing your top and looking at yourself in the mirror a couple more times as you mumble to yourself about how Devildom summers seem rather temperate compared to the ones you were used to and how you wouldn’t need anything sleeveless.

Damn the Devildom summers, if they could even be called that at all.

His ears twitch as he hears the pest start to make their way back, Asmo’s smile dropping slowly as he looks down at your neck. This was the spot they kept staring at, wasn’t it? Shame it wasn’t decorated--

But he could fix that~ “I found some other colors that would go well with you MC, do you want to--”

“OW OW OW!”

Asmo’s teeth are right on your neck, turning to look back at the clerk with a smile and a little wave as he hums at the way you clench and unclench your fingers while looking at him through the mirror, wanting to ask just why he was doing this but the pain keeping you quiet. It was cute how much you were hurting but how you were doing absolutely nothing to stop him. This could technically mean that you approved of what he was doing, correct?

He lets go as the clerk immediately closes the door, you calling out for your friend but Asmo brings you back and makes you look at the mirror one more time.

“There we go. That’s a pretty mark, right MC? An Asmodeus Limited Edition item, just for you~”

If this kept happening, Beel was going to eat this demon.

“You need to try some Devildom food, MC! I promise it's good!”

Beel stomach growls again as you laugh, ignoring the parfait in front of you. He gives you a tap on the shoulder and your attention is right back to him. “Oh sorry, Beel. Here!” You scoop up the delicious frozen treat and feed it to him, Beel smiling as he takes another two bites of his hamburger and watches you and your friend talk. He actually had no idea that you had any friends in RAD and was happy to see that at least some demons were treating you nicely, compared to theo ones who had teased you when you first arrived.

Well he said teased, more like threatened to eat you.

He figured you would make friends fast though, you were nice and all the demons here were already attracted to human souls so it was bound to happen that one of them would have the courage to talk to you.

Yet this one seemed rather...eager.

“How about this. Hell’s Kitchen serves good food but I know this awesome corner in the wall place we can get some grilled bat sandwiches. Guts and everything.”

His stomach growls again, he knew of the place this demon was talking about and would most likely want to take you there himself if you ever asked.

Beel takes another two bites before waiting for you to feed him the parfait.

Nothing.

He frowns and stares at you again, the demon keeping your attention all to himself as you spoke about how you didn’t necessarily want to eat anything with guts in it. His eyes went to the parfait, watching some of the perfectly placed scoops slowly melt and droop down on the plate.

MC, pay attention to him!

This was his time with you! He didn’t mind if someone else stepped in and he was glad you were making friends but this demon was interrupting his mealtime!

He ate his burger, you fed him ice-cream, this is how it had always worked!

People could say what they wanted but Beel was a creature of habit, and he was in the habit of having you feed him.

Not just that, he was in the habit of having your attention all on him when it was his time to hang out with you.

Wasn’t this demon just being a bother? Didn’t you also want them gone?

They kept talking about all the stuff that clearly grossed you out, seemingly delighted with your reactions as they kept trying to egg you on to say yes to an outing. If it wasn’t for the fact that you were smiling the entire time, Beel would have already made the move to unhinging his jaw and--

“I promise I’ll treat you to the best ghost pepper pizza you’ve ever had. You’re free after this, right?”

Beel’s stomach growls, whether in hunger or anger Beel wouldn’t be able to say. All he knows is that this demon is bad news for both him and you.

So what would be the quickest way to make him back off?

“I’m not but I can take a raincheck--!”

You drop the spoon you were holding as Beel bites your cheek, throwing the demon one quick glimpse before letting out a few sounds that seemed to make up your name. The demon stares at you and Beel as the Avatar of Gluttony pulls away from you, licking his lips as you slowly put a hand on your cheek and turn to look at him.

“The parfait is gonna melt. I want another bite.”

“Beel…”

Eyes turn to the demon once again, Beel frowning as he takes a hold of your hand underneath the table.

“Please leave. If MC is going to eat Devildom food then they’ll eat it with me. The only thing you are going to do is gross them out.”

“So what did you want to talk about?”

Belphie frowned as your fingers gently played with his hair. That is not what he had asked for when he asked to lay on your lap. Belphegor wanted the usual way you would comb through his hair, both of you gently whispering to each other as the planetarium ambience lulled him to sleep.

“Well...uhm...I wanted to ask something important.”

And who the hell was this person? He peeked up to look at you smiling at the screen, frowning that you still didn’t seem to notice you were doing a shit job at giving him the attention he needed. Whoever this was had been on the line with you for a good solid ten minutes, talking about useless subjects such as their day and what they had for lunch. If anything, Belphegor had no idea how this thing was taking your attention. You were doing most of the talking anyway, they should just hang up and leave you alone to pay attention to your demon.

“We’ve known each other for a while.”

Belphegor most likely knew MC for longer...maybe.

“And honestly I haven’t met a human like you before. You just...I just expected humans to be something and you aren’t that so it threw me off.”

The Avatar of Sloth yawns as he buries his head in your lap, smiling at the darkness he found in the small crook of your thighs. He yawns again and closes his eyes to try and fall asleep but the grating voice of the demon on the phone was sending nothing but warning signals to his brain.

“So I wanted to ask something I didn’t think I would ask a human before.”

He really wanted to yell ‘get to the point’ or ‘hang up the phone’ but he knew that you would most likely shush him and tell him to be patient, which would then result in you gently pushing him away so you could talk somewhere more private. And he wasn’t ready to lose his favourite pillow just yet.

So he continued listening, tracing random shapes on your thighs as he felt his eyelids start to droop.

“I know you have seven pacts already…”

Damn straight.

“But would an eight be too much for you?”

That wakes Belphegor right up, eyes wide open and head turned to face up at you to see your reaction. Of course you would be surprised, this demon really had the guts to ask the current master of the Seven deadliest demons in the Devildom for a pact?

You better be grateful that Belphegor found comfort in your lap and would prefer to stay here, rather than go break the neck of the demon insolent enough to try to take his master away.

So go ahead, reject him.

“A pact? With me?”

What were you doing?

Don’t give him such a hopeful answer! Belphegor had to share you with six other demons constantly and those demons were his siblings! He was okay sharing with Beel but he drew the line at anyone else! Adding an eighth demon to that would be like asking for a bloodbath, a bloodbath with only one target.

Belphegor frowned as the demon started talking again, stuttering and jumping over his words like he was a dog who asked to eat their masters table. Which essentially he was, not like there was room for him anyway.

“I know I’m not like those brothers--”

Damn straight.

“But making a pact with you would make me really happy...is what I am trying to say.”

He wants to gag.

A part of him couldn’t blame the demon, you were perhaps the best master a demon could ask for, but you were already t a k e n.

And you were to blame too, you know?

You weren’t rejecting him like you should. The face you were making was far too surprised and flattered at the proposition given to you. Were you that greedy? Had Mammon rubbed off on you? You had seven of the most powerful demons under your command, what more could you possibly want?

As a master, you were doing a bad job at rejecting this insect and an even more horrible job at not paying attention to the actual demon you were tied to.

He turns his head back to the darkness of your thighs, feeling you shift as you also struggle to find an answer. This was becoming too much, if Belphegor didn’t act fast you were most likely going to say yes, just because you didn’t know any better!

Fuck it, you could try to push him off but Belphegor would hold on tightly, he had to save you from your mistake.

“Uhm. Well that is honestly really flattering. And eight pacts wouldn’t be so bad--”

You slap a hand over your mouth, your teeth biting into your tongue as you look down at the demon nipping at the inside of your thigh. Belphie looks up innocently, batting his eyelashes at you as he bites down a little harder--

“I’ll-try-to-have-an-answer-for-you-later-got-to-go-bye!”

Fingers hurry to end the call as Belphegor quickly lets go, smiling as you gape down at him.

“I was in the middle of a call!”

“I know.”

“Then what was that about!?”

The Avatar of Sloth shrugs as he closes his eyes.

“You weren’t paying attention to me. It made me mad.”

You sigh and lean back, Belphegor waiting for a few moments before smiling as he feels your fingers combing through his hair.

“Next time,just talk to me, Belphegor.”

He would have answered, but that would make him promise something he most likely was not going to do.

[kepamount]

Unappreciated

boyfriend!Kepa - smut, fluff

Word Count: 5.3k+

Warnings: 18+, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, thigh fucking, mild exhibitionism, praise and petnames (in spanish ofc), I think that’s it but pls lmk if I missed anything!!

a/n: I can’t believe how long it took me to write this, I went back and edited it so many times, so pls enjoy and lmk what you think! x

simi’s navigation

‘¿Mamí?’ I hear my boyfriend’s husky voice call from upstairs. ‘I’m downstairs, Kepa,’ I call back, pausing the new episode of Euphoria. I’m still in my ‘pyjamas’ (an old t-shirt of Kepa’s), sat in the corner of the L-shaped sofa with legs up on the fabric cushions, covered in a fluffy blanket. My laptop rests on my thighs and my empty mug is sat on the coffee table alongside my half-eaten bowl of cereal.

His footsteps get louder as he comes down the stairs slowly, and my heart skips a beat when he enters the room dressed in nothing but his boxers, hair fluffy and lips puffy from sleep. It took every ounce of my willpower to force myself out of bed this morning even though I wanted nothing more than to cuddle with my sleeping boyfriend.

‘Me dejaste solo,’ he complains, voice deep with sleepiness, as he moves the blanket, collapsing down on the sofa between my legs and putting my laptop down on the coffee table so he can rest his head in between my thighs. ‘Lo siento, Kep, but I had to start work.’ ‘Remind me why you could not take the day off today,’ he says with a yawn, looking up at me through squinted eyelids. ‘I’ve got that important meeting today that I couldn’t reschedule. But after today, I’m all yours,’ I say softly, and he doesn’t say anything, closing his eyes and snuggling his head further into my lap.

I play with his hair, resuming the show with only ten minutes left, deciding I’ll carry on with work once it’s finished, and he seems to drift off into sleep again. He’s got a rare week off and, usually, I try and book the time off so we can spend it together. I managed to get the rest of the week off, and we’re flying out for a short break tomorrow, but today’s meeting is with the board, which means that a measly secretary could never ask to reschedule.

‘Okay, Kepa, I’ve gotta get back to work.’ ‘I’m not stopping you,’ he says with his eyes closed, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. ‘Your head is where my laptop should be. So yes, you are stopping me,’ I say slowly, and he lets out a childish whine. ‘Mariposa, por favor,’ he pleads, and I let out a soft laugh at the pet-name. ‘No, papí, I can’t just abandon my work. I’ll get fired.’ ‘No importa. I keep telling you to quit your job anyway. Just be my… how you say?’ ‘WAG,’ I remind him, and he nods. ‘Sí, WAG. You would be much happier,’ he says, and I let out a little sigh.

‘I don’t want to rely on you to provide for me,’ I say quietly, and he sighs. ‘Mi amor, I have so much money and I will never spend it. It is not a problem for me to provide, you know this.’ ‘I do know, but I… need some independence too. I don’t want to just laze around the house all day, doing fuck all, being your trophy wife. I want to still be active, doing things, having my own life apart from being Kepa’s girlfriend.’ ‘We both know you have a lot of other job opportunities.’ ‘I don’t want to be an influencer who promotes fast fashion companies and stupid hair gummies that probably don’t even work, Kep.’

‘It is a start though, cariño. And you don’t have to work with fast fashion. You could only work with… the good kind of fashion instead. Build yourself a good reputation on your social media that way, build a following of people who like you for your morals. Start going to some acting classes, or dance classes, or singing classes. Look at auditioning for a role you want, or try to join a dance company,’ he says reasonably, voicing an idea I’ve been thinking about for a while. ‘Maybe. I’ll need to sit down with someone to talk about this kind of stuff, an agent or someone. But I’m not gonna just quit my job. So you’re gonna have to move your big head,’ I tease, letting out a squeal when he starts tickling me.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, your head isn’t big, I was only joking! Lo siento, Kepa, please!’ I shriek, desperately trying to push his hands away, laughing uncontrollably, and he finally lets up, chuckling as I shoot him a dirty look. He sits up and tries to kiss me, but I turn my head away. He gives me a stern look, raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘don’t play with me’. ‘Go get some breakfast or brush your teeth. I’m not kissing you with morning breath,’ I pout childishly, and he rolls his eyes. ‘My morning breath never usually stops you, moody,’ he mutters as he pushes himself up from the sofa, and I grab his hand before he can walk away. ‘I changed my mind,’ I smile, puckering my lips, and he laughs at me, leaning down to kiss me gently.

I can’t help but watch him as he walks around the kitchen, putting the kettle on for some coffee and pouring himself a bowl of cereal. He’s like a Greek god, with his height and his muscles and his beautiful bone structure. ‘Mamí, staring at me is not part of your work,’ he says amusedly without even looking at me, and I quickly pick up my laptop. ‘I wasn’t staring at you.’ ‘Bueno,’ he chuckles, finding my sudden typing very funny.

He spends the next couple hours just watching TV and scrolling through his phone, lying on the sofa beside me. He doesn’t bother me at all, and even turns down the volume when I’m on the phone. I expected I wouldn’t be able to get much done today because of his usual clinginess but I’m pleasantly surprised at how he just lets me get on with it. He only speaks to me to ask what I want for lunch and my mood lifts considerably when he says he’s gonna make tortilla because it’s been a while since he’s cooked and there’s not much he knows how to make other than a couple Spanish dishes his mum taught him when he was younger

I try my best to stay focused on work but the smell of the food keeps catching my attention, as well as the sight of my boyfriend cooking in just a pair of trackies, humming along to the radio. When he successfully flips the tortilla, I call out ‘¡Ole!’ and he bursts out laughing. ‘Querido, I thought you were busy,’ he says pointedly, and I stick my tongue out at him. ‘I am busy. I just… happened to see you flipping it,’ I lie, and he just raises an eyebrow. ‘Mentirosa,’ he mutters, and I gasp offendedly, making him laugh.

The Microsoft Teams noise suddenly starts ringing out from my laptop, startling me, and I realise with a jolt that it’s time for my meeting. ‘Please be quiet because this meeting is super important, okay?’ ‘Si, cariño,’ he responds, and I answer the call. One good thing about being a secretary is that I don’t have to put my camera on and I very rarely have to talk. I’m only in these meetings to make notes on behalf of my boss and stay updated on the business’ affairs.

I join the meeting, making sure my camera’s off and my mic’s muted, and I sit there typing away as I listen to the incredibly boring conversation going on between my boss and the board. A couple minutes in, Kepa comes over, standing out of frame and trying to crane his neck to see my screen. ‘My camera’s off. And I’m muted,’ I say, and he gives me a deadpan look.

‘So when you told me to be quiet…’ ‘I have to take notes. It’s an important meeting.’ ‘Seriously? He has you in meetings to takes notes for him?’ Kepa asks, and I nod. ‘I know it’s a joke but think how much I’m getting paid to take notes,’ I say positively, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Does he actually look at them?’ ‘Um…I don’t think so. I usually send them to him straight after the meeting but once, I forgot to, and he never asked for them.’

‘Mi amor. Please tell me you are joking,’ he says, sitting down beside me, and I shake my head. ‘Why don’t you speak to him about it?’ ‘It’s fine, I don’t mind. It was worse when we were actually in the office. I’d be sat in the corner of the room, writing by hand. At least online, I can type and I don’t have to put my camera on.’ ‘Does it not make you feel bad that you put in this effort for no reason, querido?’ he asks, obviously passionate about this, and I let out a little laugh.

‘It makes me feel underappreciated sometimes, I guess. The fact that I’m putting in all this effort to write up coherent and comprehensive notes for literally no reason. It’s not the nicest feeling. But this is what my job is. In the office, I ran around making his coffee, answering his phone, answering his emails, booking his appointments and managing his schedule. It’s the same at home, except for the coffee. I have a degree, but I feel like the most… unintelligent person at my workplace because of what I do compared to everyone else. All the others get to do press conferences and supervise photo shoots and help design new pieces. And I spent three hours yesterday going through his old emails and deleting spam emails like dodgy copyright claims and porn. Anyone could do my job. It doesn’t require any effort, any brain work. I feel like a waste of space,’ I say tiredly, getting all of my stresses about work off my chest, and he listens intently, nodding and letting out noises of affirmation as I speak.

‘Come here, mi mariposa,’ he says softly, pulling me into his arms, and I let myself relax into him. ‘I cannot believe you did not tell that this is how you feel,’ he murmurs, stroking my hair soothingly. ‘You’ve been busy and stressed with your work, I didn’t want to stress you with my stuff too.’ ‘Mi amor, tu carga es mía también,’ he says, and I desperately try to think back to my Spanish lessons in secondary school. ‘Doesn’t carga mean weight?’ I ask, and he chuckles softly.

‘Burden, mamí. It means burden in this sentence. I’m saying that you should share them with me. Anything that upsets you upsets me too. Anything that makes you stressed or angry or frustrated does the same to me. I don’t want you to suffer alone when you can share it with me and we can do something about it. You feel better when you talk about things,’ he says, and I let out a sigh, knowing he’s right. ‘A burden shared is a burden halved,’ I say, and he nods. ‘¡Sí, exactamente! That is a good saying,’ he says excitedly, like he always does when he learns something new in English, and I let out a little laugh, endeared.

‘The thing is, I don’t know what I can do. My boss will laugh in my face if I tell him I’m feeling underappreciated,’ I say drily, and he thinks for a moment. ‘That is your biggest problem, ¿sí?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘So the only thing to do is help you to feel appreciated, ¿no?’ ‘And how exactly do you plan on d-’ I begin in a sceptical tone, my question cut off when he presses his lips to mine.

He kisses me slowly, lazily, like he has all the time in the world, big hands resting on my waist, and I slide my arms around his wide shoulders, feeling the hard muscle of his back under my hands. He moves my laptop aside, with his lips still pressed to mine, before leaning back and pulling me down on top of him. His hands roam up and down the curves of my body, sending shivers down my spine, and my mind turns into mush at the way he kisses me, deep and passionate.

He bends his leg between my legs, and he uses his hands on my bum to make me grind down onto his thigh. I let out a whimper into his mouth, the pleasure making me lose complete control of my body, and he breaks our kiss, pressing his lips along my jaw instead. Only my underwear and his trackies separate my pussy from his thigh as he fucks me with it, my hands pressing into his strong chest to steady myself, little whimpers escaping my lips. ‘You sound so pretty for me, mamí,’ he says against my skin, the praise making me let out a moan, and the sound must push him over the edge.

He flips us over so that his body hovers above mine, and I barely contain myself at the sight of his veins corded tight in his forearm with the effort of keeping himself up. ‘Mi cielito,’ he murmurs as he kisses along my neck, his free hand travelling down my body. He pushes my legs apart, tips of his fingers ghosting over my pants, a smirk on his lips when he feels how wet I am. ‘¿Tan mojada ya? I have not even done anything yet and you are dripping, mi amor,’ he taunts in an amused tone, but I’m too focused on how he moves my pants aside to tease me, running the tips of his fingers up and down my lips.

‘Kepa, please,’ I whisper, gripping onto his strong shoulders, and he lets out a soft chuckle, pressing a kiss to my neck as he slides a finger into me. He would never usually give in this easily, always making me beg, but he’s being nice to me today, instantly giving me what I want. A gasp escapes my lips as my back arches up, boobs pressing against his chest, and he smirks against my skin when I let out a gentle moan of his name.

He pushes another finger between my folds, my slick coating his hand as he rocks his hand back and forth, and I let out frequent moans, clenching around him involuntarily. ‘¿Puedes dejar de apretar, mamí?’ he asks, and I try to relax my walls, knowing I’m squeezing him too tightly. ‘Mi cielito bonita,’ he murmurs, and I feel myself getting even wetter at being called his pretty baby. His pace gradually increases, the obscene squelching drowning out the noise of the meeting on my laptop, and when he starts circling my clit with his thumb, my head falls back as I let out a loud moan of his name. I feel myself getting closer and closer, the knot in my stomach tightening as he sucks at the skin under my jaw, long fingers working on me relentlessly.

‘y/n, are you there?’ my boss’ voice breaks through our little bubble, and Kepa freezes, the two of us staring at each other. ‘Quick, quick, get off me,’ I hiss, and he moves to the side, allowing me to sit up and grab my laptop. ‘y/n, are you there, love?’ my boss repeats, and Kepa lets out a noise of disgust. ‘He calls you love?’ he demands, making me laugh. ‘Only in front of the board so that he comes across as a good boss instead of a total twat.’ ‘He’s coming across as… ¿cómo se dice pervertido en inglés?’ ‘Pervert, Kep,’ I giggle, getting distracted from the fact that I should be panicking about this meeting.

‘I’m so sorry about this, gentlemen. Let me just phone and check she’s alright. Let’s call a five minute break, shall we?’ my boss says, and I cringe, desperately wracking my brains for what I’m gonna say to him on the phone. I barely have time to think about it, my phone ringing a couple moments later, and I take a deep breath before answering it. ‘Ian.’ ‘Everything alright, y/n?’ ‘Yeah, I don’t know what’s happened. The meeting’s been glitching out since the start, so I tried unmuted myself to speak and tell you but obviously you couldn’t hear me, and I sent messages in the chat as well but I’m guessing they didn’t come up. There must be something wrong with my internet,’ I lie through my teeth, Kepa laughing, and I bite my lip to hold back my own laughter.

‘Not to worry. I was just asking you to share a document with us on your screen, but you can just email it over to me instead,’ he says, and I feel myself relax. I can’t believe I managed to get away with that. ‘Whilst I’ve got you on the phone, I wanted to ask about whether you managed to get in touch with those suppliers in Hong Kong,’ he begins, and I supress, knowing that this is basically going to turn into an update on everything I’ve done since the last time we spoke. ‘Yeah, I phoned them yesterday but they didn’t have a fluent English speaker in the office so they said they’d call me back today. They haven’t yet so I’ll email them if they haven’t called in the next couple hours,’ I say, my mind getting back into work mode, and I can feel Kepa’s eyes on me as I talk.

‘Don’t. Apparently they had some sort of child labour scandal a couple years ago – they managed to bury it but Claire found some old articles about it – and our image is already fragile, so we’re not going with them in case it gets out again,’ he says, and I roll my eyes, my blood boiling. Forget about the fact that child labour is, like, morally wrong, and think about how it’ll ruin our image instead. Classic Ian. ‘Okay, I’ll take them off the list. Who should I prioritise instead?’ ‘Speak to the lot of them. Clear everything else out of your schedule for today, and focus on phoning and emailing all of them. We need this deal sorted before next week – the board are giving me serious shit about it,’ he says, and I hold back a long sigh.

‘I’m booked in with Shantelle in an hour.’ ‘Cancel it.’ ‘I can’t cancel again, Ian.’ ‘Again?’ ‘Yeah, I’ve cancelled on her twice in the last week. I can’t do it again.’ ‘I’ll speak to her and cancel it for you. The board takes precedence over girly gossips with the other secretaries,’ he says firmly, and I bite my tongue. ‘Alright. Are you sure you still want me to speak to TD Textiles? After the whole gender pay gap scandal?’ I ask carefully – last time I brought up this topic, we had a big argument and he pulled rank, basically telling me to shut up and do what he says because he’s my boss.

‘y/n,’ he begins with a sigh. ‘I know you said about how their prices are low but I really don’t think a partnership with them is gonna do us any good. I know it’s not illegal like child labour is, but it’s still unethical.’ ‘Fine. I’m gonna trust you on this and let you take them off the list,’ he says begrudgingly, and I punch the air, celebrating silently. ‘I promise you, Ian, you won’t regret this.’ ‘I hope not,’ he says drily, and I can’t wipe the smile off my face. I love it when he listens to me.

‘Right, focus on contacting suppliers for the rest of the day. You’re excused from the meeting.’ ‘Okay. Remember you’ve got that 6pm with Justin Holden tonight,’ I remind him, and he groans. ‘A 6pm with that wanker? Pardon my language but why on earth would you book me in for a 6pm with him?’ ‘You told me to. You literally sent me a message saying to book you in with ‘that twat Justin’ for today, and your only availability was at 6pm,’ I say simply, and he sighs. ‘You’re too good of a secretary,’ he mutters, making me laugh. He’s alright sometimes, I suppose. ‘Right, I’m gonna go. Text me if you need anything.’ ‘Alright, Ian, speak to you later.’

The line clicks off, and I fall back against the sofa cushions with the biggest smile on my face. ‘Happy, mi amor?’ Kepa asks, an affectionate smile on his face, and I nod excitedly. ‘My boss actually took my advice for once!’ ‘And do you feel appreciated?’ he asks amusedly, making me laugh. ‘I do, actually.’ ‘It looks like my job is done then,’ he begins, looking like he’s about to get up, and I grab his wrist with wide eyes. He laughs at the look on my face before pulling me into a kiss. ‘I joke, cariño,’ he murmurs against my lips, before pushing me back against the sofa.

He settles himself on his front between my legs, hands slowly sliding up my legs and disappearing beneath the t-shirt of his that I’m wearing, and I rest my head on the arm of the sofa, maintaining his eye contact. A small smirk plays at his lips as he hooks his fingers around my pants and slowly pulls them down my legs, my pussy still covered by the t-shirt. He inhales deeply before murmuring, ‘hueles tan bien.’ ‘Not as good as you.’ ‘You only say that because I’m wearing the aftershave you bought for me,’ he says amusedly, and I grin, not bothering to deny it.

He lifts my legs up over his shoulders, my heels resting on his back and thighs on either side of his head, and he doesn’t hesitate before licking a bold stripe up my folds. I let out a shaky breath, and he begins teasing me, tongue barely touching me as he kitten-licks at my core. I bury my hands into his hair, unconsciously pushing my pussy closer to his face out of desperation, and he chuckles softly, warm breath fanning across my skin and making me shudder. ‘Please, papí,’ I whimper, and that’s all he needs, burying his head between my legs and eating my pussy like it’s what he was made for.

My back arches, fingers gripping his curls as his tongue alternates between dipping between my folds and flicking across my clit. Moans fall from my lips more and more frequently until I reach the point of letting out a nonsensical garbled mess. ‘You taste so good, cariño,’ he murmurs against my pussy, the vibrations making me call out his name, heels digging into his back and thighs pressing against his head. ‘Fuck, Kepa, I’m close,’ I breathe out, body writhing, but he holds me in place with his forearm pressing down on my stomach. ‘Cum for me, querido,’ he encourages me, and I can feel myself nearing the edge.

My phone starts ringing, the shrill noise startling us both, and I let out a noise of frustration, Kepa chuckling. ‘Answer it,’ he prompts, and I sigh angrily as I reach for my phone, answering my boss’ call. ‘Hi, Ian.’ ‘I just remembered. Darren gave me a report a few days ago, about potential suppliers. I think maybe you should have a look at that before you start phoning them all,’ he says down the phone, and I hold back a sigh, Kepa resting his chin on my left thigh and looking up at me amusedly. ‘Yeah, that’s fine.’ ‘I think there were a few with ethics scandals in there – I can’t remember which ones exactly so you’ll have to have a look through. I think Baxter’s were in there. Something about fraud,’ he muses, obviously trying to remember what was in the report, but I lose focus when Kepa’s eyes light up, as though he has an idea.

Ian begins thinking out loud about the different scandals in the report but I’m not paying any attention, especially not when Kepa slides two fingers into me, making me bite down on my lip to hold back any noise. ‘Be quiet for me, querido,’ he murmurs softly as he pumps his fingers in and out of my core. He keeps a slow pace at first, his movements as lazy as the grin on his face as he watches me trying to hold myself together. ‘Is that okay, y/n?’ Ian asks, catching my attention. ‘Yeah, that’s fine,’ I respond breathily, Kepa’s lips quirking up into a smirk. ‘You alright?’ Ian asks, and I wince, not sure what to say. ‘I’m fine. Why’d you ask?’ ‘You sound distracted. Not got one of your reality shows on, have you?’ he asks drily, just as Kepa removes his fingers and replaces them with his tongue.

‘I’ve got one… on in the background. But I’m not watching it – I was paying attention to what you were saying,’ I just about get out, head falling back onto the sofa cushion when Kepa attaches his lips to my clit, sucking gently as he pushes his fingers back into me, filling me up in a way that makes my stomach tighten. ‘I knew I could hear talking. I was thinking it might be your boyfriend at first. How is he, by the way?’ Ian asks, and I roll my eyes at him wanting to have a friendly chat right now of all times. And then I have to hold back laughter at the irony of him asking how Kepa is whilst the man in question has his head buried between my legs, sparkling eyes locked with mine as he starts circling my clit with his thumb, tongue licking slow and hard stripes across my folds.

‘He’s, um… he’s great, yeah. He’s got the week off so he’s upstairs packing for our holiday,’ I lie, the vibrations of Kepa’s chuckling making me pull the phone away from myself as I let out a soft whimper of his name. ‘Oh, it’s their winter break, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve got the rest of the week off. He must be shattered after all those matches, poor bloke.’ ‘Yeah, he’s… exhausted,’ I manage to reply, my boyfriend proving me wrong with the way he slips his fingers back into me and sets a much faster pace, stretching me out with a third, lips wrapped around my clit.

‘Make sure you look after him. Feed him plenty of nice food and fatten him up a bit while he’s not having to stick to a diet plan,’ Ian jokes, the pads of Kepa’s fingers brushing across the spongy spot that makes my eyes flutter shut, my teeth digging into my lip to hold back any noise. ‘Oh, don’t you worry. He only gets fed the very best,’ I giggle, Kepa raising an amused eyebrow as he curls his fingers inside me and brushes his teeth across my clit, my giggles catching in my throat and my back arching up from the sofa.

‘I’m glad to hear it. Right, I’ll send over that report and you can do all those calls for me. I’m also giving you full authority to decide which companies not to call, so don’t make me regret trusting you so much. You can take the rest of the day off when you’re done. Enjoy some time with your boyfriend, get packing for your trip. Email me anything important before you log off, alright? I’ll speak to you on Monday,’ he says, and I barely register it, the loud and wet noise of Kepa’s fingers sliding in out of me almost drowning Ian out. I feel myself getting closer and closer to my orgasm, and Kepa can sense it, doubling his efforts to get me there, my eyes rolling back from the waves of pleasure crashing over me. ‘Okay, Ian, speak to you on Monday.’ ‘Tell your boyfriend well done from me, for how well he’s doing. And enjoy your trip.’ ‘Will do, thank you, Ian.’ ‘See you, y/n.’

My phone falls from my hand, hitting the carpet with a soft thud, and I throw my head back as Kepa pushes his tongue into me alongside a finger, nose rubbing against my clit. ‘Fuck, Kep, feels so good,’ I cry out shakily, hands threading into his curls and pulling him closer, impossibly so. He pushes three fingers into me again, eyes trained on my face as he flicks his tongue across my clit, and I let out moans of his name, unable to think of anything but him. I tug on his locks, back arching up as he fucks his fingers into me, a smirk on his lips at how I writhe around, lips letting out broken whimpers and desperate breaths.

‘Are you going to cum, mi amor?’ he asks teasingly, and I can’t even answer him, my mind a pleasure-addled mess as he curls his fingers inside me. ‘Cum for me, mamí,’ he whispers with a grin, fingers pressing against the perfect spot as his teeth brush across my clit, drawing an incredibly intense orgasm out of me. My entire body tenses as I let out a long, drawn-out moan of his name, his fingers and mouth still working to prolong my high, and I clench around him, so tight his fingers are caught inside me. My vision blurs, tears in my eyes, and the knot in my stomach snaps in a way that makes my legs shake.

As I come down from my high, Kepa slowly pulls his fingers out of me, and I shudder from sensitivity, eyes trained on him as he licks his fingers clean. ‘Lo siento, querido,’ he murmurs, shuffling up to lie beside me, pulling me on top of him. My body keeps twitching from the aftershocks, and he chuckles softly, fingers lightly drawing patters on the bare skin of my thigh. ‘Mi chica buena,’ he whispers before pulling me in for a gentle kiss, his lips soft and loving against mine.

‘I think you burnt the tortilla,’ I whisper after breaking apart from him, and he takes a couple seconds to register what I said. ‘Joder,’ he curses, making me laugh, and he presses a quick kiss to my forehead before jumping up from the sofa, rushing over to the hob. He holds up the frying pan with a miserable look on his face, showing me a blackened tortilla, and I wince, holding back laughter. ‘We’ll order something. Ian told me to fatten you up while you’re off work.’ ‘Did he?’ Kepa asks with a raised eyebrow, and I nod amusedly. ‘He also said to tell you that you’re doing well,’ I add, and he puffs his chest out proudly, making me laugh. ‘Maybe he is not so bad.’ My phone pings then, and I reach to the floor to pick it up, my heart dropping when I read the text from Ian.

‘Make sure the call has definitely ended next time’.

‘Oh, my God. Ian heard us,’ I say faintly, Kepa’s mouth falling open, and I hold up the phone, my boyfriend rushing over to look. ‘Ay dios mio.’ ‘You can say that again,’ I say, dropping my head into my hands. ‘At least he put a laughing face. It is not so bad,’ Kepa says lightly, and I look up at him venomously. ‘This is your fault,’ I say bitterly, and he chuckles. ‘Lo siento, mi amor. But like you said to Ian, I only get fed the very best. It is hard for me to resist,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes, holding back laughter as he leans down to press a kiss to my lips. ‘Now,’ I laugh as we break apart, ‘can you spray some air freshener in here please? It smells like burnt tortilla and sex.’

[finelinevogue]

he’s so vogue

Description - you are the journalist for the new Harry Styles December Vogue Issue

A/N - how is everyone doing? hope you enjoy! if you have any requests please feel free to ask. love you all and have a lovely rest of the week!

warnings: swearing

[masterlist]

Being a journalist for Vogue was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

After 3 years of studying English Literature at Surrey University, you never thought, only a year after, you'd be working as an apprentice at Vogue UK. If it weren't for your Aunty, who worked in the fashion design section at Vogue HQ, then you'd no doubt still be a broke-ass, single, lonely student. Ok, lonely you still were but your job was so full-on that you didn't have time for a relationship.

Two years into your apprenticeship you were promoted to an official member of the team, and then another two years later you got promoted to team leader in your department of journalism, and editing; The Media - or as you like to call it - "The Celeb Goss". You were beyond happy with your job and found such passion in every article your wrote. Whether it be about a new celebrity romance or the collapse of one, you found a way to story-tell in such a meditated way that everyone loved your pieces.

That's why the Harry Styles had requested you to be the one to interview him.

Of course you'd written about A-list celebrities in the past, producing articles on pregnancy rumours, or engagements, or breakups, but you'd never met them before authoring an article. You'd met plenty of D-list celebrities who thought they were mega famous, but if you mentioned their names people would turn around and ask "who?".

This is why interviewing Harry Styles was a massive thing for you.

Not very often did you get to do work out in the field, especially in these covid infested days, but nevertheless it was your favourite part of the job. Getting to meet the people you were writing about was completely refreshing, allowing you to obtain a clearer outlook on which direction to take on your journal piece.

You were asked to go to Stonehenge, where the photoshoot was being filmed, as your office of interview. Even though you'd lived in the UK all your life, you'd never actually been to Stonehenge. It wasn't really on your bucket-list, but it was a pleasure to get to see it all the same.

Being the prepared interviewer you were, you'd prepared an array of questions that you were set on asking Harry. You'd never met him before, but after much googling and youtubing of him prior to meeting him today you would already be confident in saying he's the most brilliant man to ever exist. You were really nervous that you were going to screw this interview up and make a terrible mess in front of Harry Styles.

"Lisa! What if I accidentally say something I shouldn't?" You ran your stressed hands through your hair.

This whole morning had been frantic. It had started off by you waking up late, no thanks to Lisa, your best-friend and co-worker, pressing snooze on the alarm. You wanted to look professional today so you'd put on your best shirt - only to spill coffee down it ten minutes later. So now, you smelt of coffee and were wearing what was left in your wardrobe - and it wasn't much. The only things left clean were a pair of pink corduroy flares and some, pastel coloured, graphic t-shirt to go with it.    

"You won't. Stop being so negative." Lisa rolled her eyes, probably fed up with the amount of winging she'd heard from you this morning - and you'd only been awake an hour.

"My outfit is hardly professional either." You huffed, pouring the rest of your, second, coffee down the drain.

"Well I think you look gorgeous." Lisa stated, whilst putting her breakfast bar wrapper in the bin.

You and Lisa were back and forth about you stressing, and such, for about half an hour before you had to leave. You had a great panic about losing your glasses too. You could see without them up close, but for long distance viewing and reading you were practically blind. You were taking Lisa's car, since she didn't think you were emotionally stable enough to drive. Lisa was the creative director on the set, and thank goodness she was so you could at least ramble to someone.

After a two hour drive up from London, you arrived at Stonehenge and it was freezing. Although the sun was out, it did nothing to keep your body heated. The journey up had been nice because you sat in your nicely heated car, chatting away with Lisa and blasting some Harry Styles out of the speaker. You'd made it through the first album, and the second one up to Canyon Moon before reaching your destination.

Upon arriving you could just about, without glasses, make out about 15 other cars, arranged at the bottom of a hill. There was an array of Audis and BMWs, a few Range Rovers, which you placed your bets on one was Harrys, and a green, vintage, Jaguar which was most likely belonging to the fashion editor or something. There was also a modern barn, perched at the foot of the hill, which was where Harry would be getting changed in to his various different outfits.

It took you a moment to register that Lisa had parked and was already clambering out of the car, making you look a little idiotic still blankly staring at the beautiful scenes in front, and around, of you.

But it was still bloody freezing.

You jogged a little to the boot and whipped out your white cardigan. Originally you'd thought that this would've been enough to keep you warm, but now you were starting to think otherwise.

The atmosphere here was amazing. People were rushing around left, right and centre loading, and unloading, various pieces of equipment and clothes. You caught sight of brightly coloured fabrics being carried to and from various places. There were the camera crew, and presumably director, all chatting amongst themselves. The smell of the very fresh air was so lush that you'd forgotten what it smelt like - especially after years in London.

You grabbed your bag from the boot, which had your notes, recording kit and laptop stuffed inside, before locking the car and following Lisa in to the barn.

It was lovely and warm inside - a completely different climate to than the outside. It was as if it was Bali inside and Antarctica outside. Better Bali than Antarctica though.

"Ok. Let's put our stuff down over here and then go find people we need to meet and such." Lisa instructed, you still too in awe of the place to fully comprehend what was going on.

You followed Lisa and you two ended up dropping off your stuff next to some other bags. You took a liking to the purse next to your stuff. Next to your bag, it made yours seem ancient - like it was worth nothing more than a penny. It was luscious and a beautiful baby blue colour. You softly ran your hands over it, finding satisfaction in how smooth and subtle it was.

"Hope you're not planning on stealing that, love." A manly voice appeared from behind you. You whipped around to see who's bag you'd been messing with, and it was just your luck that it was to be Harry Styles'. Of all the people's it could've been it had to be his. 

Perfect.

He looked dashing. He was in black flares and his iconic 'But daddy i love him', t-shirt, along with a huge green anorak. His hair was prettily clipped back with a pink clip, presumably placed there to gave his curls greater volume. In his hand he had a pink toothbrush and you guessed he'd come back over to put it away in his bag - only to find you caressing it instead.

"Oh - no, no. Not at all. I - uh - I just thought it was beautiful." You stammered over your words, choosing them carefully to try and make you look less like an active criminal.

"Mhm." Harry nodded whilst looking you up and down, most likely judging why a peasant like you, in comparison to him, was touching his expensive property. "Well, I love your flares darlin'." Harry looked down at your trousers, his compliment making you blush a little.

"Thank you. That wasn't professional, and neither is my outfit, I know, and I apologise." You added, because you knew that if your boss knew you turned up today the way you did she would give you a right bollocking - and potentially even fire you.

"Never apologise for flares. You look amazing." Gemma perked up, making you feel more self conscious surrounded by all these other beautiful women. Gemma was in a slouchy, knitted, jumper and basic jeans - no doubt all from shops beyond your budget - and yet she looked like a model fit for the runway for Vogue.

"Okay, sorry." You apologised again, to which you, creepily, got the exact same, stern, look from the Styles siblings at the same time.

"My stylist, Harry, introduced me to big pants. He offered whether I wanted to try a pair of flares, and I was like, 'Flares? That's fucking crazy'!" Harry laughed as he told his story, earning a laugh out of you too. "Now they're my favourite item of clothing. Have a whole wardrobe dedicated to them."

"I wish he was joking." Gemma laughed at her brother and his flare obsession.

"Well you do look handsome in them, so I understand why." Your words rolls off your tongue before you could even comprehend what you were saying. Only after you finished your sentence did you completely intake what you'd just said.

"Good start." Lisa giggled to you, before turning to walk over to the coffee station. It was a help-yourself coffee bar and you knew that you were going to bed at least five cups to get over the last five minutes alone. You'd probably drain the station before letting anyone else have any.

"Oh god." You awkwardly mumbled, not daring to see how weirdly Harry would be looking at you, before walking off outside.

You had spent less than 10 minutes here and yet you'd never felt like a bigger clown. Joining the circus had never been so easy.

The outside wind hit you like a powerful leaf blower, and your hair blew around like crazy - most likely compiling into a birds nest on the top of your head.

Today was supposed to be the start of something great. Your hopes were set on a promotion from your written masterpiece, whilst enjoying the company of one of the most handsome, most lovely, most talented men of this century. Those hopes seemed a little too distant now. They seemed to mock you, as if to laugh at how you ever thought you were going to be any more successful. You'd completely, in more ways than one, made a fool of yourself in front of your interviewee, you were so underdressed, you were caught fondling his Gucci purse and you were still bloody cold.

It all felt too unprofessional for a job where professional was practically the driving force of the company.

You leaned against the barn, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You were a master in over-thinking, but unfortunately that wasn't something you could add to your resumé. You let your eyes close and the other senses come alive for a few moments. The sounds of distant sheep and the smell of the cold wind were just two of the senses that allowed you to take a step back for a minute, and breathe.

"Thank you." A voice interrupted you from your attempt of quick meditation. You looked to your left and noticed Harry standing there, still in the same outfit as before.

"I'm sorry?" You asked confused, taking a step away from the barn to considerately pay more attention to him.

"Thank you - for saying I look handsome in flares." He repeated, smirking when he added the second part.

"Oh." Was all you could respond, feeling too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. "I should—" You pointed back to the barn, using it as an excuse to leave before yet screwed up anymore.

"Lisa told me you're the interviewer." Harry added, and it only occurred to you that you'd never actually introduced yourself. "So it's lovely to finally meet you Y/N." He stuck out his hand for your to shake, which you did willingly. His hands were a lot softer than you'd expected.

"Ho... You know my name?" You asked surprised.

"Of course. I also know you're the best writer in Vogue right now." He flattered you, which made you blush. You had a feeling he'd make you do that a lot today.

"Sure." You rolled your eyes as you spoke sarcastically.

"Well I chose you for a reason, didn't I?" He rhetorically asked.

"I mean.. I, well.. I don't know?" You stumbled over your words, making yourself look like a larger fool than you did already. Today was just turning out to be exactly what you didn't want it to be. "Sorry."

"Stop apologising. You do it too often." He told you, nearly making you apologise again but he gave you a jokingly stern look, as if he knew what you were going to say, and so you decided otherwise.

"Harry!" You both turned to see there was a man waving towards you both, but specifically to Harry. "Come get changed!" The same man shouted. Harry lifted his thumbs up, as if to signal he'd be there shortly.

Harry turned back to you and noticed you shiver a little.

"I'll start the interview after I come back from the dressing rooms, yeah?" Harry asked, taking off his, khaki green, trench-coat in the process. He handed it to you before you could oblige against it.

"Wait what?" You confusedly looked down at the coat and back up to Harry.

"Gives me a piece of mind knowing my interviewer isn't going to die of hypothermia before actually interviewing me." He smiled, obviously attempting to crack a joke and you have to admit you did laugh.

"Thank you." You say, before he runs off to where he's being called to.

                                                            ••••

You'd been sat inside for a little while, waiting for Harry to come back. It gave you time to perfect your questions though.

Thinking up questions to ask Harry had been a challenging task, but one that you'd been fully invested in. You loved creating questions to ask him that were going to get to understand him on a deeper level. He was a very private man, and you completely respected that. If you crossed any boundaries, with the questions you'd ask, you would write them out of the interview. You liked to think you hadn't thought up a question that would make him feel uncomfortable though.

Pissing off Harry would be on another level of shame.

"Coat kept you warm?" Harrys voice disengaged you from your notebook.

"Hm?" You asked then replayed what he'd just asked in your mind. "Oh, yes. Thank you very much." You stood up, from where you'd been perched on the floor, picking up your nearly finished green tea as you did so.

Only when you stood up did it come to your realisation that Harry was now in costume. He was dressed in luxury. Each item looked like it cost more than your rent, and that was saddening. He looked rich and luxurious. To be quite honest, you were finding it rather difficult to take your eyes off him.

"You think the outfit is Vogue enough?" Harry asked, striking a few poses, which made you laugh. It was refreshing to see him act so relaxed and carefree, rather than a stuck-up-prick you knew some celebrities to be.

"Completely. I love it!" You exclaimed, appreciating the twirl he did for you.

He was wearing a kilt-like skirt and he looked beyond beautiful in it. Fuck toxic masculinity. Fuck being a manly man - like what does that even mean? Harry was embracing gender fluidity and experimenting the ways in which there was no definitive line between men and women's clothes anymore, and you thought it was marvellous. Revolutionary, for times as politically and socially troubled as these.

You started removing the coat in attempt to give it back to him, but he refrained you from doing so by holding on to your forearm.

"Keep it. I thought we could go outside to start the interview, so you'll be needing that." Harry told you, and you agreed - however reluctantly that was. You couldn't really complain though, because the coat did kept you warm and, what's better, it smelt divine - just like you'd imagine Harry to smell.

"Okay. Thank you. Do you want to go now?" You asked hesitantly, not knowing whether he was busy for someone else right now.

"Whenever you're ready, love." He answered, making you feel more relaxed. He was going at your pace and was making you feel settled - he was even more of a gentleman than people described him to be.

The two of you had walked around the backside of the barn in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. Well, at least you were. It was a blessing no one was back here. It was just you, Harry and the scenery that surrounded Stonehenge.

You approached a bench and you plopped yourself down on one end, whilst Harry sat on the other. He respected the fact that there was a pandemic going on, and didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. You still had your mask on, so Harry had taken that as you were very conscious about the virus - which he admired.

You pulled out your glasses, from the depths of one of the coat pockets, and placed them on your face, probably making yourself look even geekier than you already felt. Today was just one of those days you wished you had good eyes...

You opened your spent notebook, musty pages practically falling apart, and turned to the section of questions you needed for that interview. You were so nervous already and you hadn't even asked anything yet, all because of the previous interactions with Harry today. Your shaky hands shuffled through the pages and you cursed under your breath when you struggled to find what you needed.

"Shoot. Come on." You mumbled quietly under your breath, hoping it would make this terrible situation end faster. You mustn't have been as quiet as you thought though.

"Y/N." Harry's name broke through your clouded mind of self-disappointment.

You looked up at him to see him softly smiling at you, blowing all worries away from you away with the wind. "Yes?" You timidly asked, pushing your wind-swept hair out of glasses - where it'd gotten caught.

"You’re alright, love. You don't have to be professional around me, alright? We're just two strangers having a conversation, to get to know each other, okay?" If his words didn't calm you enough, the soothing sound of his husky voice certainly did.

"But that would mean you asking me stuff too?" You replied, confused at his implications of the phrasing 'getting to know each other'.

"Mhm." Harry nodded his head.

"Oh I don't know Mr Styles, i'm not a very interesting person." You answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose from where they'd fallen.

"I refuse to believe that." Harry chuckled, making a quick smile appear on your face. "And please call me Harry. Just Harry." He begged, obviously finding it weird you calling him by his professional title. All you wanted, ever, was for your interviewee's to feel comfortable and safe, so if Harry wanted you to call him Harry then so be it.

"Ok, Harry," you sarcastically said, earning a shake of the head on his behalf, "you can ask me a few questions throughout the day." You told him, but you knew he'd struggle to find even two questions when he realises how bland you are.

"Does that mean you only get to ask me a few as well?" Harry smirked, already knowing the answer to that question. Unlike Harry, you had to write an article about today when you got home and so he knew that you'd have to dig as much dirt as possible from him.

"No, sorry. I don't particularly want to lose my job." You paused to look down at your notes, squinting a little as you did to see better. "Okay. Tell me your experience with corona virus."

"Sorry I didn't quite catch that, love." Harry apologised, leaning in slightly to see if he could hear you a second time around.

"Sorry." You looked down to fiddle with your fingers - a habit you'd undertaken when you're embarrassed. "Um..," you cleared your throat, "would you mind if I took off my mask?"

Your timid voice sent tingle down Harrys spine. He didn't think anyone could ever be this sweet. "Not at all, ‘course you can." He replied, again, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

You hesitantly took off your face mask, feeling like you were in some dramatic movie where they face revealed someone. You kind of liked having the mask on, because, for one, it kept you warm, and for two, you were a little self conscious with how you looked compared to all the other women here today. You shoved the mask in your pocket, with trembling fingers, before looking back down to your notes.

"Woah." You heard Harrys voice being mumbled under the wind. You eyes shot up to his and you noticed him staring right back at you.

"W-what? Is my acne playing up? I knew I should've—" You self-consciously run your hands over the areas you know you got acne. The masks really didn't help when it came to skin care.

"Hey, stop. No. You just... You look beautiful." Harry complimented you, and a roaring blush arose on to your cheeks. You'd never been called beautiful before, and so you were taking the compliment like such a 13-year old.

"Oh, uh, thank you." You awkwardly answered, not really having any other words come to mind in that moment. Harry chuckled under his breath, still keeping eyes on you for some reason.

"Would you mind repeating your last question, I didn't quite catch it?" Harry asked politely.

"Sure. Um, tell me how you've experienced corona virus." You repeated for him, gripping ahold of your pen to start copying what he says and pressing start on your recording device in case you needed it later.

"Well, it's been tedious that's for sure. However, I just want people to be safe and for life to return back to normal, so therefore i've been very MIA for a lot of the time. Keeping to myself mostly. I only went out for hikes or bike rides. All my meetings were online, so it's been very lonely." Harry kept eye contact with your figure the entire time, and if it weren't for you concentrating on writing what he was saying then you'd probably melt away under his gaze.

For such soft eyes he sure was intimidating.

"I presume the loneliness sent you crazy at times." You laughed, because you sure felt that way through lockdown. Curse being single.

"You have no idea." Harry laughed along with you, making you, slowly, feel more at ease.

"Actually, you'd be surprised." You looked at him unsure, before returning down to your notebook.

"Okay then, first question from me," Harrys words made your head shoot up, "How can someone as amazing as yourself be lonely?" He asked and you made a mental tally of how many questions he'd asked.

"Could ask you the very same question, Harry." You slyly replied, avoiding the question by answering with another question. It was a tactic you'd learnt, throughout your years of journalism, when you wanted to dismiss something .

"That's cheating." Harry pointed at you and raised his eyebrows, but you couldn't take your eyes off the big, cheeky, smile perched on his face. You shrugged you're shoulders in defence and returned to your questions. "But you did just call me amazing, so I think i'll let it slide this one time." You blushed, again, when you understood what he meant.

He was amazing though - that was the truth.

"You were in L.A. for the majority of quarantine, am I right to say?" You already knew the answer but your manager had just wanted confirmation.

"Yeah, but L.A. feels like holiday, whereas London feels like home." He answered, which you appreciated. He hasn't got lost in the way that Hollywood could let people. He'd stayed grounded.

"So what did you entertain yourself with during quarantine?" You asked curiously, slightly side-tracking from your pre-written questions - just because you were intrigued (nosey).

"Not much, not to be boring. I ate a lot of bread. I worked out pretty much every day. I wrote quite a bit actually." He used his fingers to pinch his bottom lip, something you'd noticed he did in interviews.

"Does that mean a new album on the way?" Your inner fangirl was screaming at the thought of HS3.

"Can neither confirm nor deny." Harry smirked to himself, like the cheeky bugger he is.

"That's a yes then." You joked, pretending to write it down in your notes.

"You're impossible, you." Harry laughed and shook his head. It made you feel all funny the way you could make him smile like that. You were the source of his happiness for just that moment, and that was enough to make you feel happy for a lifetime - not that he felt the same.

"Next question," you stated, moving swiftly on because you knew you had limited time, "How's your experience with Vogue been so far?"

"Wonderful. Everyone has been so welcoming and that makes it so much easier for me to have fun. It's daunting going at things alone, but i'm getting slowly used to it now." Harry sniffled a little, probably due to the freezing cold weather here.

"Must be strange, not having four best friends around you, all the time, anymore." You stated rather than asked him, sure that he was missing his bandmates. I mean, you were - so he definitely would be.

"Brothers." Harry replied, making you look up at him confused.

"I'm sorry?" You asked, giving him your full attention.

"You said four best friends. Well, actually they're my brothers." His words actually caused a rift in your heart. You could feel it being pulled apart and torn in to two. If you wrote this in to the magazine the fans would have a worldwide passing-away-party.

"Harry." You said softly, slightly tearing up at his words. "God, I swear i'm not normally this emotional." You chest your throat and try to establish your dignity - however there wasn't that much left anymore.

"Oh shut up." Harry looked away obviously trying to hide the fact that he was tearing up too. You laughed at him but didn't draw any more attention to it than you guessed he would've wanted.

"They mean a lot to you then?" You asked, hopefully not treading on any unwanted territories.

"Much more than a lot, yeah." Harry nodded his head, turning it back to face you. He could tell this conversation was now off-the-record because of your closed notebook, your undivided attention towards him and the fact you’d turned off the recording device. He liked being able to look at you, rather than the top of your head. He swore you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

"You still see them often?" 

"Not as often as i'd like. Niall did come around the other week to drop off some old guitars he didn't want anymore, and then we ended up playing around with some music for a bit." He admitted, which stitched your heart back together.

"So does that mean a Narry collab?" You teased, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.

"Narry? You so are a directioner." He laughed along with you.

"And you just avoided my question, therefore there is a song out there written only by you and Niall." You concluded, which shut him up.

This conversation was going a lot better than expected. Certainly a lot better than earlier. You will be permanently scarred by the way you spoke to him and handled his belongings. It was going to haunt you forever - and yet he'd forget about it by tomorrow. Or maybe he wouldn't, which is why you felt the need to apologise.

"Harry?" You asked, clearly indicating this was still a conversation away from the interview.

"Yes Y/N?" He watched you intently, listening to your every word.

"I, um, just wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I was just really nervous to meet you, and to be honest still am. I didn't mean to touch your stuff without your consent and I certainly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with any of my comments. So, i'm sorry. I can only imagine the awful, yet true, things you must think of me." You rambled really quickly, that you were uncertain whether Harry even caught one word of what you'd says.

"Do you know why I asked for you to interview me Y/N?" Harry asked, which wasn't the first thing you expected him to say after your apology.

"No. I...well Lisa told me it was because I can write well or something." You suggested, not wanting to sound egotistical.

"I mean you do write perfectly, but no." You were intrigued now. "I asked for you because I, and this is not for your magazine, have a secret - but not-so-secret - crush on you." This time it was Harrys turn to blush.

"Harry... you don't have to say that to—"

"I'm not saying it for anything. I sincerely think you are the most delightful, most prettiest, most fucking sweetest person i've ever met." Harry exclaimed, which you were taken aback by. Never, ever, did you think that Harry Styles would proclaim his likeness towards you. Ever.

"Harry don't mess with me, please." You shyly spoke, tilting your head down in disbelief that the Harry Styles was smitten about you.

He shuffled along the bench, stopping a little way from you but close enough to reach out for you. Your heartbeat increased when you noticed his hand move closer towards you. It didn't stop till he reached your face. He took his time, courteously, pushing your hair behind your ear before removing you of your glasses. He held the right-eye frame and slowly pulled the glasses off your face.

Once he'd successfully taken them off he folded them up and placed them alongside your closed notebook.

"Can see those pretty eyes now." He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to hear.

"Don't lie. They're so dull." You mumbled, lifting your head up slightly. His face was still away from you.

"Not to me they're not." He retaliated, looking deep into your eyes as you did his. "I hate this corona virus."

"Why?" His words were so out of the blue sometimes, it gave you whiplash.

"Because I can't be as near to you as I want to be." Harry told you. And yeah, you hated corona too. It was getting a little laborious now.

"Smooth, Styles." You chuckled. You wondered how many new and weird pick-up lines could be made from covid. 

"I know." He winked, which honestly would have made you throw up if it were any other man on the planet. Somehow, though, Harry just made it seem attractive - along with every other thing that man ever did. "After this, would you like to come back to my house for a cuppa tea?" He asked sweetly, like a five year old asking whether you wanted to play together.

"Okay. Lisa was my ride though." You said more to yourself than anything else, debating on how you'd even get to Harrys. Uber? Taxi? Lisa? Walk?

"I'll drive us, it's fine. I have to drop Gem off, but i'd be more than happy to chauffeur you." Harry kindly offered, to which you were internally screaming about. You were literally, and metaphorically, having a field-day with all this Harry content and interview.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden." You question politely, not wanting to overstep any boundaries - especially in these covid infested times.

"Of course. I wouldn't have offered otherwise." He protested, waving his hand at if to say it was no bother. You were already trying to work out, in your head, how much petrol money you were going to owe him.

"Then i'd be honoured to have a brew with you Harry." You giggled at how cringe you were being, even if this was just your normal self speaking.

"Great." Harry genuinely smiled, teeth and all. "My shoot should take a couple of hours, but feel free to continue to write and journal. I'm looking forward to reading this particular article." He winked at you before standing up.

"Wonder why?" You sarcastically asked, knowing full-well it was due to his exposure of his own feelings towards you. Even though you'd never says anything back you were quite in agreement on how you felt about him, like he did you. He would be a narcissist to say he knew you liked him the same, out loud, but he knew. And you knew that he knew.

"Wonder why indeed." He gave you one last smile before he'd disappeared for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you to digest and relive the past half an hour or so.

Being Harry Styles' crush was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

                                                          ••••

After Harry had finished up his shoot he was quick to come find you again.

You'd watched parts of his shoot and he looked magnificent. There wasn't a good enough word to describe how amazing he looked. Harry, his stylist, was probably the best stylist out there. His fashion choices were unmatched and you wanted him to be yours. You were not rich enough nor fashionable enough, ironic for working in a a fashion company, to hire a stylist, but you would if you could.

You were so proud to see what he was achieving now as the person that he was. Harry was just being Harry, without the devilish control of shitty managements or ridiculous amounts of PR stunts. Harry was more free than ever, and it definitely showed just how much he was enjoying it.

You were certain that this Vogue magazine would break the internet - his fans were good at doing that. This could be a turning point for many people, with their outdated and ignorant views. There was no room for people with racist or homophobic or transphobic or xenophobic - and the list does go on - views anymore.

You were waiting by the front door of the barn, to catch Harry as he walked past. You caught sight of him in a white robe, presumably to get changed back into his everyday clothes. He looked really pretty in the robe - very domestic actually.

Today had been a good day.

Harry asked you to send over the more specific Vogue questions to him via email, so he could devote more time in to answering them in a lot more depth. You thought he meant you'd be sending them to some PA in his team, but you were shocked to understand he'd given you his personal email.

People were walking back to their cars and packing away the filming kit. You saw Lisa and the director talking to one another, no doubt discussing some in-work gossip.

"You ready?" Harrys voice reminded you that you'd been waiting for him. You looked to see he was back in the same clothes as this morning, only this time without his coat.

"Here?" You offered, having him over the coat once again but he declined.

"Looks better on you anyways." He winked at you, before walking through the car park and to his car. You were very surprised when you found out Harry was the one to own the green Jaguar. You assumed all celebrities drove the Range Rover, but no. The vintage car added to Harrys immaculate vibe and just made him that little bit more hot.

Harry properly introduced you to Gemma, who was equally as lovely as Harry. They were both amazing people and they were crazily alike. From the way they looked, down to the way they phrased their words, they were mistakingly twins. Gemma explained how Anne, their mum, didn't know they were doing this photoshoot and that it was going to be a surprise, which you thought was so cute.

Gemma spilt a lot of gossip on Harry, to which he got very embarrassed over. You learnt that Harrys first word was Cat. You learnt that Harry is godfather to multiple children, which you found heartwarming. You learnt Harry used to be a baker - which was something he elaborated on for a good half an hour. Harry was just a fountain of memories and Gemma was the one sharing them all with you.

The drive back to London was relaxed. You sat in the back, listening to Harry and Gemma pointlessly argue whilst an Arctic Monkeys album played in the background. You forgot that people like Harry drove, and listened to music, just like other regular people. You often misplaced celebrities in society, thinking they had everything done for them but in reality that (often) wasn't the case - at least not for Harry.

Gemma was dropped off quickly before Harry drove to his. It was no surprise that the Styles siblings didn't live too far away from each other. Harrys house was beautiful. Bigger than anything you could ever dream of buying. It was a palace compared to your cupboard-sized house. You were unbelievably jealous. He gave you the tour of the house, showing you where the toilets were, and even his panic room if necessary.

You migrated to the kitchen for a bit, talking about anything and everything. Getting to know the minuscule pieces of information that no-one else was trusted with, made you feel special. Harry made you feel special - even if he weren't meaning to.

Every moment held a spark. Every touch set off a firework. Every laugh was an electric burst. He made you feel so alive.

"We can go to the living room after this has boiled." Harry said, pointing towards the streaming kettle. He wanted to show off his fancy tea collection he had, and let you have a try if you wanted to. Harry was boring and chose the basic green tea, but, after much deliberation, you chose the cranberry green tea. It intrigued you and it sounded delicious.

"Why the extensive tea collection?" Not even you, a certified caffeine addict, had this much tea in your house. Coffee was a different story and one in which you didn't want to talk about.

"They help me with my meditation." He took the teabags and placed them in his glass mugs. They had a delicate Gucci stamp on them, and you just imagined that they probably worth the same amount as your daily salary.

"You meditate?" You were slightly surprised that he did.

"I try to yeah." Harry nodded, focusing on pouring in the boiling water into the mugs. "I've got very tight hamstrings and so it helps if I meditate twice a day."

Harry finished making the tea, in the light-filled kitchen, before showing you around to the open-lounge area. Everything was modern and chic. It was exactly how you imagined it, but better. The open, red-brick, wall was a beautiful feature and one that you were a whore for! It reminded you of New York and the memories you'd made there one summer.

The sofa was a beautiful velvet, green, sofa. It was soft and gentle, a lot like Harry when you thought about it. The whole house was an architectural masterpiece and you'd be lying if you said you weren't jealous. You sat on one end and Harry went to go and sit on the other end.

"I don't bite you know?" You joked, self-consciously wondering whether he didn't want to be sat near you.

"I know, I just don't want to step on any of your covid boundaries - which is perfectly fine by the way." He added, apprehensively taking the spot next to you.

"No, not at all." You ushered him to sit next to you, as you took a sip from your steaming hot cup of fruity tea. "If I smell though, do tell me!"

"Yeah, you smell bloody awful!" Harry sarcastically remarked, but laughing afterwards to assure you he was joking. The atmosphere went quiet for a minute, only the sounds of passing cars and deep breaths being heard.

"Y/N can I ask you something?" Harry turned the tone of the conversation. It sounded like he wanted to be more serious than you two were being beforehand.

"Anything." You encouraged him to continue. You placed the cup of tea down on the table, deciding it was too hot to drink right now, and gave him your full attention.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Harry questioned. You didn't think you'd be having a conversation this intense - especially if you had different opinions - on your first day of knowing each other, but here you were.

"I believe you can love someone at first sight. I don't believe you can be in love with someone at first sight. Why?" You were curious as to how his brain had journeyed to this particular topic. You'd never really had this conversation with anyone before, mainly because you were unaware of the true power, and meaning, of love.

"It uh... It doesn't matter." Harry shook his head and you could tell by his body language that he was shutting you out. Maybe you'd made him uncomfortable.

"Sorry I didn't mean to—"

"No, no. Please don't apologise. It's just - I like you a lot more than you may think." Harry shyly told you, which made you all soft inside. He was being vulnerable and that was something you admired in a partner. You didn't just need love, affection and trust in a relationship. No. You needed vulnerability and heartbreak too, and Harry was revealing that part of him to you.

"I like you a lot more than you think too." You repeated, not because you felt bad for him but because you truly did like him a whole lot. Love was a weird yet wonderful thing, and if you were to hazard a guess you'd say you loved Harry. 

You couldn't wait to be in love with him.

"Does that mean I get to crown you my girlfriend?" Harry excitedly asked. Harry happy was something that should be made a constant, and you were more than happy to be in control of that.

"At least take me out first." You bargained, wishing for nothing more than to go on a date with Harry. Where you'd go, you had no idea. Everything was closed right now and there was still the chance of becoming sick with corona, but no doubt Harry would think of something not only clever, but special.

Of course you'd love to be Harrys girlfriend. However, you wanted one more, official, opportunity to really get to know him - unprofessionally. You wanted to make sure that you knew, and he knew, that you wanted to be with him because he was the charming Harry you've come to love, not because he was Harry Styles.

"So you're allowing me to take you on a date?" Harry smirked like a little child, your heart fluttering at how excited he was to be able to treat you to dinner.

"Yes, Harry. Yes I am." You answered sweetly, offering him the cutest smile you could.

You can't believe what a turn of events today has been. You've gone from nearly writing yourself on Harrys enemy list to writing yourself on to his 'people he's dated' list. Who knows what the future would offer you. At the start of the day you had wished this whole day to end and for the ground to just swallow you up, now you never wanted it to end. It was too perfect to be true and yet it was.

Harry was the most wonderful human to exist and you were beyond surprised to be the one to catch his attention. You didn't understand why you were so special, but it was nice to feel like this for a change. It was nice to feel wanted.

                                                             ••••

A few months later and you were officially Harrys girlfriend.

It had been such a crazy few months. Harry religiously took you out on dates every week. Whether it be to grab a hotdog at a local diner, a coffee from a quaint cafe, a walk in Hyde Park or a late-night drive around London - which normally ended up with you falling asleep before you could make it back to yours. On sleepless jet-lagged nights he'll still drive through London's quiet streets, seeing neighborhoods in a new way, just as an excuse to spend time with you.

Harry often stayed over at yours. Even though you looked like you lived in a shoebox compared to Harry, he liked it. He liked the subtly and normality of it all. He wanted your life to remain as normal as possible and, apart from the occasional paparazzi incident, it did. You never had anything to complain about. Of course the online bullying created emotional wounds, at the start of your relationship, but it was nothing that Harry couldn't repair with a bit of love.

Lisa has nominated herself to be maid-of-honour when the day comes - if the day comes. Harry has already pinky sworn that you are it for him. The one, as some may say. You were utterly flattered, but you certainly unsure of what the future help for you both.

You loved Harry, you do love Harry and you will forever always love Harry.

It was ridiculous to think that all this stemmed from you working at Vogue. From you studying English Literature in a city away from London. From you dedicating you extra hours gaining work experience and money to be able get in and afford university. So many moments in life have you stopped and said 'i wish i hadn't have done that', but now you were convinced that they were the best things to have happened to you - because they lead you, all, to Harry.

And, being Harry Styles girlfriend was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

[shhhhhuuuush]

Join me under the cut because this will get long

I'm assuming you got here thru AO3! I'm sharing a couple snippets I edited out of The Very Real Adrien Situation:

(1) the original draft for the beginning of this fic, where chat noir comes through the window and instead of marinette jumping his bones they banter for a bit

(2) conversations about marinette's crush on adrien that I cut out

(3) some goofy banter I cut from the scene where marinettes going down on adrien, post-adrien-reveal

(4) the beginning of another sex scene that would have happened at the end of the fic but seemed like overkill and i didnt care enough to write it

Under the cut so this isn't crazy long:

[My original draft for the beginning of the fic - at first, the scene where ladybug + chat noir are tied up together didn't exist, and we just started at marinette's apartment right after margarita night]:

He's got a terrible idea.

A really excellent terrible idea. An idea that might be outrageously sexy.

He hears a key in the door and calls back his transformation. Marinette opens the door to a green flash, and says, "Were you hanging out detransformed again?"

"Just recharging," he says.

"Recharge in my bedroom, that way I can't walk in on you."

"I can always hear you coming, don't worry," Chat Noir says. "How was coffee? Ruined by the Akuma?"

"Completely," Marinette says, smiling. "Now I have to reschedule, and it's SO hard to get on my boss's calendar." She hangs her coat up, revealing her tight graphic T, cropped barely above her high waisted jeans. He can see her stomach as she lifts up her arms, meow.

"What was that?" Chat Noir says, cupping a hand to his ear and craning his neck. It makes Marinette roll her eyes and laugh. "I can't hear you," he says. "You'll have to come closer."

"I suppose so," Marinette says with an exaggerated sigh. She covers about half the distance to the couch and leans against the kitchen island. "How's this?"

"What's that? Pardon?"

She takes a couple exaggerated steps towards the couch, stopping about two feet away. "How's this?"

"I think I'm going deaf," Chat Noir sighs. "Or you're too quiet."

She covers the last step to the couch and collapses right on top of him. The suit makes it easy to take her full weight. She rests her chin on her hands above his breastbone, and says "I'll get you a hearing aid. Two sets of hearing aids, for both ears."

"Ah, there you are," he sighs, shifting a bit to situate his legs more comfortably in between hers. "I missed your pretty voice."

"I missed your sweet talk. How was the fight?"

"It made me think of you," he says, fluttering his eyelashes at her.

She laughs and says, "Translation, you spent the whole time looking at Ladybug's butt, and got yourself so horny that you can't let me walk through the door without lying on top of you."

"Slander on my good name! I'll have you know I spent the whole time fighting the akuma, and then afterwards, as a treat for doing a great job saving the city, I did look at Ladybug's butt."

Marinette laughs again. "And? How was it?"

"Same as always - perfect, and almost as good as yours." Chat noir snakes his hands over Marinette's ass and parks them in her jeans pockets. She wiggles invitingly under his hands.

"Mmm, you really are in the mood," she says, and her tone of voice says she approves. She starts to play with the open zipper at his neck. "Tell me you don't have somewhere you need to be in an hour."

"For you I have all the time in the world," Chat noir purrs, tilting his chin back to encourage her.

She pulls the zipper down just a couple inches, just far enough that her mouth can reach the exposed skin. She gives him a neat kiss on his chest, and says, "want to play superheroes?"

Temping, but Chat Noir has a worse idea.

"I have a counter offer," he says.

"I'm listening," she says, her fingers playing idly over the skin she's uncovered.

"It might be related to some intelligence I have gathered about your own romantic taste," Adrien says, unable to keep the teasing delight out of his voice. "Maybe about a past crush. Maybe a handsome celebrity model."

Marinette's fingers stop moving on his chest and she pales. "I don't know what you could possibly be talking about."

"Does the name Adrien Agreste ring a bell?"

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

[early fic conversations about marinette's crush on Adrien]

He grins at her, and leans her face towards him so he can kiss her mouth, with feeling. She sinks into it, but he doesn’t let her stay for long, so he can ask: “Fantasies? Please tell me you have a whole library of fantasies.”

“Of me with another man?” she teases.

“You’re not with another man,” he reminds her, and he lets his claws trace over her bare back so that she shivers.

She says, "I thought you’d be more jealous, to be honest.”

He laughs a bit at that. “I thought you’d never see me again after we started roleplaying Ladybug. I think I owe you one.”

She smiles at that, so he supposes he’s gotten out of the conversation safely. “Fantasies,” he demands.

“It would be different from how I fuck you,” she says. “With you… I’m never nervous. You make me confident. Maybe to a fault. But it’s easy to ask you to… touch me, to fuck me, anything.”

-chat noir action to show hes listening and break up the monologue-

“Adrien makes me nervous. Not like he used to, but sometimes there’s an echo of it – I want to impress him too badly. I want him to look at me a little too much. And I can’t always read him.”

“A mystery man?”

“A mystery dork,” she corrects. “But I could say the same about you.”

“You have a type,” he grins.

“I have a type,” she agrees.

“So how do you fuck him?” he says.

She laughs. “You won’t be distracted, huh?”

“I have to hear what the other fucking options are. I’m only getting the chat noir treatment. What am I missing out on?”

[in here: marinette starts to explain a fantasy by saying she wants adrien to "find her at a party, you know what I mean?"]

“Tell me what you mean,” he says, still playful with the laughter from a minute before.

“Something like... the lights are low, the music’s loud, and… I used to imagine, you know… I wanted…”

She gives him a look, but gets to the point. “He would see me through the crowd. And he’d think I looked so good that he’d come ask me to dance. And he’d pull me in really close, you know?” She’s pressed up against him. He has no trouble imagining. “We’d get to the dance floor and he’d have an arm around my back, holding me tight to him. Like right away. He wouldn’t even mind that I was a bad dancer, cause it’s just an excuse to hold me.”

She can’t get closer to him, but she shifts so he can feel her move. He winds his arms around behind her and holds her there, like she’s describing. She slips her arms around his neck.

“Like that,” she says. “Really close.”

“Hot,” Chat noir says encouragingly. “So he’s got you out on the dance floor. He’s snuggling up close to you. What would you have done? If he touched you?”

She fights a bashful grin and says, “I was too shy to do anything, really. But – if it’s a fantasy – if it went the way I wanted – I would have kissed him.”

“Just kissed him?”

“Oh no,” she whispers, flirting. “Nothing ‘just’ about it. I would drag him into a dark corner, and… I wanted him to drag me to a dark corner. And touch me more than you can do on a dance floor. Touch me like he couldn’t help himself. I—I used to…”

She trails off and he realizes he’s been sitting still, hanging on her words.

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

[sometime after the adrien reveal while marinette is being sexy at adrien]

She's admiring him. Her eyes wander up and down his body in an obvious way, and she gives him an approving nod, like she's the one putting on a show. It's intensely flattering, and sends a pulse of want through him.

He wraps his hand around his own cock, to give her something to really good to watch. She licks her lips as he strokes himself, but only lets him get a couple in before she sits back up stops his hand.

"Lie down," she says.

"Who do you want to lie down?" He teases.

"I want Adrien and Chat Noir to lie down," she says. "I want to fuck my two favorite men."

He laughs and bends over to steal a fond kiss before following instructions.

She takes off his jeans.

"See?" She says, while he gives in to laughing. "It's not that hard. Some people can take off their partner's jeans without being bribed with sexy talk."

"You sucked me off before you did!" he accuses, and she says,

"I didn't even make you ask once!"

"We took the same amount of time to de-jean each other,"

"I am still wearing a shirt! With my bra undone underneath it!"

"Oh woe," Adrien sighs, leaning back into the mountain of pillows that Marinette keeps on her bed. "The lady's suffering is deep."

"You ARE Chat Noir," she huffs, and he winks at her. She rolls her eyes, twisting her mouth to stifle a smile. It takes refuge in her eyes. "I can't believe I spent six years pining after a horrible dork."

"Seven, I think you said," Adrien supplies helpfully.

"Yes, thank you, seven years," Marinette returns. "We could have cut that down to a quick two if you had just tossed a couple puns my way in Collège."

"Oh no," Adrien says, propping himself up a little to get on her level. "Now I can't sit here and say nothing. Remind me who you let into your window?"

"I can't think who," Marinette says coolly.

"Remind me who you seduced with a little red dress?"

"I only like sophisticated, suave-type men."

"Remind me who - " Adrien starts, but she cuts him off by saying,

"Oh my god - I'm ridiculous - I'm dating both of Paris's most eligible bachelors. That's just greedy!"

Adrien laughs too. "You know," he says, "there was an article last year in Dimanche that compared us. I mean, compared me to me. Chat Noir and Adrien. The consensus was that Adrien is more handsome, but Chat Noir is more romantic. I'll show you - I bought the magazine and saved it, to show Ladybug someday."

"Oh," Marinette says. "I saw that, actually. That's... kind of sweet. That you saved it to show her."

Adrien grins. "I think she'll lose her shit when she finds out I'm a model. She already says I'm too much to handle, I'm going to get a good laugh out of her for this."

Marinette is looking at him fondly. It's an impossible reaction to talking about another woman. He supposes he doesn't have to worry that his reveal will change how she feels about Ladybug. About how he feels about Ladybug.

Of course it wouldn't - if she IS ladybug, she wouldn't mind at all, some traitorous part of his mind whispers. Stop it, he whispers back. down that road is disappointment.

Marinette says, "I don't think Ladybug would even have to ask. I think you'd have already taken off her shirt."

Adrien easily sets aside his thoughts to tease Marinette. He says, "Ladybug is a strong woman who can take off her own shirt."

"Ladybug wants some attention from her impossible model boyfriend," Marinette says, slipping easily into the roleplay.

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

[started to write them fucking at the end of the fic, but ran out of steam and couldn't justify it for the story so i cut it. here's how far I got]:

“Go again?” She says, all Marinette again, but still Ladybug. He almost laughs, she must know he does.

“Yes,” he says, answering her seriously anyways. “Definitely. Please.”

“Good,” she whispers.

“What’s the plan, my lady?” He asks.

She sighs. “Stay there. On me. I just want you in me.”

He kisses her deeply on the mouth, and then says, “great, I’ll remember that,” before he picks himself up off her and moves until he’s between her legs, and he kisses her deeply a second time, not on the mouth.

She laughs at his change in direction, so he digs his tongue inside her until she sighs, “Ooh, wow. It’s so much better without the suit. Next time I’m taking it off right away.”

“Oh no, not so fast,” Adrien says, raising his head at that. He uses his thumb to keep touching her while he talks, running soft, wide circles around her clit. “Marinette. You can’t. You know what that suit does to me. In excruciatingly private detail, you know what that suit does to me.”

She gives him some kind of bashful grin. “Yeah,” is all she says.

“Yeah,” he repeats, and it comes out much more serious than he intended, because he’s looking at her and she’s looking at him and she knows how much he wants her. “Yeah,” he says again.

“It wasn’t to tease you,” she says, as he lowers his mouth back to her clit, to replace his fingers. “When you told me about Ladybug. I wanted it. I really… wanted it.”

He licks her slowly, pushing his whole face into her, savoring the hot slide of her against his tongue. As sappy and romantic as he wants to be. Like he can sing her Romeo and Juliet poetry from right here, between her legs. Like he can hand her a rose, silhouetted by the moon, if he touches her right.

She settles her hands in his hair, and breathes, “I didn’t know I could have it.”

“Tell me,” he says, shortly, so he can bury his face back in her.

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

THANKS if you read this!! It's possible nobody did this is pretty hidden. But it can't hurt to make it available.

[harcove]

you uh. wouldn't mind an angst request would you haha because I have had this one scenario stuck in my head where leon (probably resi 6 leon) has been drinking a lot more and has been neglecting his s/o and they finally call him out on his shit

anyway ooga booga they fight and decide it's best they give leon his space and take a break and maybe he finds them at a bar he goes to to get wasted to already find them drunk off their ass

Angst is absolutely one of my most favourite things to write and to read like damn I do be out here making myself CRY. So I definitely don't mind angst like hell yeah!

I was gonna end this was a happier note- but uh, I really love angst so I left it semi-open ended but also pretty sad I think. Also not really dialogue-heavy, more like... I write too much detail-heavy :,) Also this isn't edited, I spent days on this cause I was overthinking it and felt it was just not good so oof I'm sorry!

Length: 2k

Request: in the ask

Warnings: angst, drinking, lowkey it's alcoholism on Leon's part, being drunk

Leon x Reader - "I know."

How long had it been since you had held your boyfriend's hand? Since the two of you had really sat together and done something together, fully, completely, involved, and focused on one another. You didn't even remember, which was agonizing to think about.

You had been through so much with Leon. And you knew where his deepest thought lay, but you could never truly know. And it didn't help that over the years the two of you had together, he had started to become more distant. And instead of finding his comfort in your arms, he found it in some glass bottle.

At first, you didn't really protest much, you didn't say much about it. A drink every once in a while couldn't hurt. Yet, it wasn't every once in a while. It was more often than you'd have liked. And he was using it to forget. To focus on anything else but his life and his memories. Your soft words trying to talk to him didn't do much to stop him or dissuade him. He brushed you off more often than not. It tore you up from the inside out that you couldn't help him, that at some point a bottle was his chosen form of comfort over you.

The guilt mixed with sadness, and then with anger. And in the end, those feelings came together and created an explosion between the two of you one night.

Your throat was hoarse as you swallowed as much air as you could. You couldn't exactly remember what the argument stemmed from but you knew it had to be related to him drinking.

"Will you just listen to me?!" You shouted, the words coming out uneven as your throat begged you to stop, "put that shit down Leon, and look at me!"

The man sitting at the aisle in your kitchen put the flask he had down in front of him, but still had his hands on it. He turned his head to look at you, barely even moving at all, and his eyes were looking at you like he was unimpressed or annoyed.

"I'm listening."

You wanted to pull on your hair and scream because he wasn't. He wasn't listening, and he hadn't been, at least not for a while.

"No you aren't, you are not listening to a word I say, you never do!"

He scoffed, turning back to his drink and taking another sip.

"Where am I going on Friday?"

"What?" He looked at you incredulously, completely lost as your voice went from yelling at him to speaking relatively peacefully, but there was no peace in your voice.

"I said, where am I going on Friday, Leon," you repeated with clenched fists, "if you listen to me if you even bother to pay attention to me, you would know the answer. So where am I going on Friday?"

The silence was your answer, as you expected it to be, you just hadn't expected it to be so painful.

"I'm going to visit my family in the town over," your voice was low and tired, and you wanted to cry but you couldn't even find it in you to do that, "I told you that a thousand times Leon I..."

Biting your lip hard, you felt yourself break skin, and the metallic taste of blood invaded your taste buds. You were so angry at him moments before, angry enough you had been yelling. But suddenly you weren't angry anymore. You were just so sad; sad for yourself and sad for him. He wasn't going to listen to you, not right now, that much was clear.

"I've been busy Y/N-" whatever he said was wasted on deaf ears as you drowned them out unintentionally, your eyes trained on the flask he nursed.

For once, you knew you had to let it be. You had to give him space, and give yourself space.

"I'm sleeping in the guest room," you offered lamely after the long silence between the two of you after he had finished whatever he had said. Leon looked up at you, with a look of surprise, and confusion, "we both need space. From each other. I just... Don't stay up drinking all night."

"Y/N-" his words once again fell upon deaf ears, and his fingers just missed your arm as you turned and went upstairs to the room usually used by people like Claire, or Chris, sometimes Sherry.

When morning came, you had gotten up later than usual, Leon was already gone as he usually was early in the morning with his job and everything. Your heart felt heavier as you walked into the empty kitchen and noted the vodka bottle you two had been given as a gift was half empty. Something in you asked if it was all worth it; did it really do so much that he drank more than he should've? Did it take away the feelings of hopelessness, like the one you were currently stuck in?

Those were the thoughts that followed you the entire day as you went about your routine. They followed you all the way to the spare bedroom of one of your old friend's homes as you decided you and Leon needed to take a break. If you didn't do that, you feared you would only lose him completely. Or lose yourself. It was exhausting.

But what was even more exhausting was not seeing him. You worried for him, and even if you sometimes felt like he didn't, he worried for you.

It would take about a week before something would crack, before the storm that had been brewing between you two, the one that laid dormant after you walked out to take from your relationship, would begin to thunder again, but in a much different way.

"We're here to have fun," your friend who had been letting you stay over said as she pushed a shot of... something into your hands, leaning against the bar from your side while you said on one of the barstools, "and loosen up. You specifically."

You rolled your eyes; this wasn't in your plan for the day, going to a bar. But it was more than you had done in the past week now. Your routine consisted of going to work and heading back to your friends. Nothing more, nothing less.

You wanted Leon. But you couldn't have him right now. You were still upset, and you didn't even know if he wanted you right now. Everything was a mess.

Things seemed to blur together over the course of the night in the bar, your friend insisting on you trying each new drink she got, some not new too. You had had one drink that you ordered of your own volition, and it had been a regular bottle of beer. But the shots your friend got for you two, and the sips of the drinks your friend ordered, culminated into more than you realized and you could say you were a bit more than just tipsy.

For some reason though, your friend seemed to be chugging along much better than you, you must've been a lightweight.

You hadn't even seen your friend in a while, but you also were so out of it that you couldn't exactly comprehend time properly at that current moment in time.

A hand on your arm and a familiar voice seemed to sober you a bit as your eyes met familiar blue, but they were clouded over with pain, with worry. Confusion too, and a bit of shock. Your fingers twitched, aching to touch his arm. His face. To smooth the furrow that seemed to be etching itself into his brow, threatening to become a new and permanent feature.

But the sober feeling you experienced also stopped you from doing any of the above. Rather, your body stiffened a bit and you pulled away from his touch, only barely missing the look of hurt that glided over his features as you did so.

"L-Leon?" the alcohol in your system made it sound more like you were questioning if he was real rather than saying his name, "What are you-"

The question you were going to ask didn't even need to be finished. It didn't even need an answer from him, because even if you were drunk, you knew Leon. And you knew why he was there.

"Oh," you couldn't help but scoff, "you want my drink? It'll start you off-"

Leon wasn't going to pretend that he hadn't come to the bar to drink away his sorrows; to forget all the pain he held onto and the nightmares he couldn't escape, and now the pain of not having you around. But when he walked in and saw you? Something in him stopped. Something in him twisted and he felt nauseous and for once it wasn't because of a hangover, but it was because of you.

You looked so miserable. Not that you realized you were wearing your heart on your sleeve at the bar, with the dejected look on your face and the limp hand holding onto a beverage you clearly didn't enjoy. Whilst at the same time, you looked empty.

Is that what you saw? Is that what he looked like to you when he was drinking? When he was at home or at a bar, focusing on anything but reality?

Leon didn't want a drink anymore, he wanted to get you out of a place that didn't suit you whatsoever. He wanted to take you home, he didn't want you to be him.

"You didn't come here alone, did you?" He cut off whatever you were trying to say as he looked into your eyes sternly.

"What? N-no I'm not stupid... I came here with a friend."

It didn't take long for Leon to figure out the friend because he spotted her coming near the bar, and recognized her.

"Hey, I'm taking Y/N home," Leon tried to not sound aggressive when he spoke, but it may have only made him sound more upset.

"Leon? Oh, ya, of course. Are you two...?"

"We'll be fine," Leon replied as he helped you stand up, "thanks for being with them."

He hadn't just meant in the bar but in the past week. It was left unsaid, but it was laid bare.

As much as you wanted to pull away from the man who gently wrapped one of his strong arms around your waist, and used the other to hold your arm behind his neck, you couldn't. You didn't have the strength to, and you missed him.

Leon was glad he had taken the car and not his motorcycle. There was no way in hell he would've been able to keep you on a motorcycle all the way back to your home that you shared, or well, you hadn't for the past week. But that wasn't the point.

"You're so mean Leon..." you mumbled as he helped you get into the passenger seat of the car. He all but carried you into it like a child and leaned across you to put your seat belt on. You leaned your face into his neck as he did so, breathing deeply.

"I just... Want you to be happy," you continued sloppily, "but you won't... Let me in..."

Leon's breathing stopped for a moment as he stilled, his hand still on the seatbelt he had just finished putting you in. He quickly pulled himself together and pulled back, adjusting the belt on your body so it wasn't digging into your lazy form, but it was still doing its job.

"I know."

There was so much more he could say, but he couldn't.  He wasn't sure if he ever could.

He settled himself into the driver's seat and got ready to start the car up.

"I still love you though..." your words were slurred as you rested your head on the car window, feeling your eyes grow heavier.

"I..." Leon's hand was turning white at the knuckles from how hard he was holding the steering wheel. He didn't deserve you. And you didn't deserve this.

"I know..."

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝙈𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙅𝘼𝘾𝙊𝘽𝙎𝙀𝙎. | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 (18+)

edit by @raeganlolz <3

∘ requests: I tried to use as many as I could that made sense! Hope you enjoy!

“the things i’d do to meet edgy karl’s parents.”

“ok but next time you want to write smut for edgy!karl...post pregnancy scare...karl having a fixation on readers tiddies...like the whole time. -🧚🏻‍♀️”

“i stg this is my last thing ill send in today about edgy!karl but karl letting reader dom him completely.-🧚🏻‍♀️”

“CONSIDER edgy!Karl saying ‘that's my girl’”

∘ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader 

∘ warnings: nsfw (minors dni), mentions of underaged sex, asphyxiation, domination, this being 4k

∘ word count: ~4000 (im so sorry)

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

∘ disclaimer: I made up all the dynamics and Karl lore. This is also an au and I do what I want so

You rolled your shoulders, twisting your back to alleviate some of the stress in your back as your mind raced at the possible outcomes of spending the weekend at Karl’s parent’s place. He seemed to deal with the situation in his own way, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips as he scrubbed the nail polish from his fingers. You wondered if his parents were sticklers for order, then again, knowing Karl, there was no way they weren’t crazy strict. You thought about your own family and what would happen if Karl were to meet your mother.

Karl seemed almost absent-mindedly going through the motions of visiting them like you had nothing to worry about. There were occasions when he even made it clear that you had your life more intact than he did, so it was doubtful they would hate you.

You peered over at him, taking your eyes off the road momentarily as he paused to blow smoke out of his window. “Why do you have to take it off?” You asked, gesturing to his hands.

He scoffed slightly, sitting up and throwing the dirty cotton ball into the small bag beside him. “My mom hates the dark colors,” he murmured, flicking his cigarette bud outside. He moved a hand to settle over your thigh, wrapping his fingers around the flesh. “Don’t worry, I’ll paint them again when we get back,” he chided. “I know it’s the only reason you keep me around.”

You snorted at this, shaking your head at his joke.

The two of you came to a small stop-over town, swapping seats after filling up the tank at the local gas station. Through the crack in the passenger window, you could hear the cashier greeting Karl as if they were old friends, smacking him on the back and walking him out the door with a smile. As Karl sank into the driver’s seat you furrowed your brows. He looked at you with a shrug. “We vacation around here sometimes,” he brushed off, making your mouth twist in disbelief. He was downplaying the extent of his family’s hold over the town.

As the two of you drove through the main street of the town, your eyes snapped to the various stores with his last name plastered on the signs. You nearly asked him about it, instead opting out as you figured he would give you a half-assed answer and only give you part of the story.

His house had its own street, a long winding road that ended in a looped driveway the size of a suburban cold-de-sac. You willed yourself not to let your mouth gape at the sheer size of the mansion as it stared back at you, blocking the moonlight as Karl opened the passenger door for you to climb out. “Stop treating me like the fucking Queen of England,” you murmured, elbowing him as he pulled on his hoodie, shaking out his hair slightly.

He laughed at you, popping a piece of gum in his mouth, and pressing his lips to yours in a nearly heated kiss as if to give you a taste of what he had in store of you. As he broke the embrace, his nose brushed against yours. “I can treat you worse if you want, pet?” He offered, causing you to shove him away from you.

“We are literally in your parents’ driveway. Chill out,” you urged, making him chuckle as he laced his fingers with yours, pulling you towards the front door. Your heart hammered in your ears as he pushed open the door. You tugged on his arm. “Shouldn’t we knock first?” You whispered, making him pop his gum and shrug.

As if telling you not to worry, he pulled you the rest of the way in the house, only to be greeted with an old man barely reaching over your height. “Karl! My god, you nearly scared the living daylights outta me!” He hooted, as Karl wrapped his arm around the old man, the two chattering away like the best of friends.

You smiled at the warmth between the two, watching Karl blossom. He moved to stand by you, wrapping his arm around your waist and gesturing to the man. “This is my nanny, Leslie. He wouldn’t leave so I think he just dusts the books in one of the libraries,” Karl joked, making the man swat the air in front of Karl.

You raised your eyebrows. “One of the libraries?” You repeated quietly as if to make sure you heard him correctly.

He smirked at you, disregarding your surprise. “This is my girlfriend,” he introduced, rather proudly as Leslie’s face lit up. He grabbed your hands and rambled on about how he had never thought Karl would introduce a girlfriend to the family.

“I thought I heard Karl’s voice. Did he make it?” A feminine tone rang out into the foyer, capturing Karl’s attention a beat before she had started talking as if he had sensed her. You wanted to smirk at the vision, knowing he did the same when he heard you.

A woman came around the corner of one of the walls, her hair and makeup applied to a professional standard and her clothes were cleanly pressed. She looked as if she had just gotten home from an office job with a corner office. Her intimidating aura vanished along with his as soon as she saw him, scooping him up in her arms as he chuckled slightly. She held him out an arm’s length away, pinching his sides and calling him a beanstalk. Another man a few years older than Leslie entered the room, draped in a flowery apron. He embraced Karl as well, the couple fawning over him like they hadn’t seen him in years.

Karl gestured for you to come closer as he showed you off to the pair, introducing them as his parents. Karl’s mom immediately embraced you, murmuring about how Karl hadn’t brought a girl home in ages let alone a girlfriend and you were quickly being to notice a theme amongst the group.

The house was massive, which you had quickly noticed was even bigger than it looked outside, as Karl’s mother looped her arm around yours, giving you the tour and explaining the extensive history of the Jacobs family and their impact on the house. Leslie and she served as some of the most entertaining tour guides you’d ever experienced as they giggling and joked. Karl walked quietly behind the group of you, hands in his pockets as he looked up at the ceilings and pictures as if he hadn’t seen them a thousand times growing up.

You peered over your shoulder, making sure he was still with the rest of you. He set you a wink, lips curling at the sight of you getting along with his family members.

After you were finally beginning to lose track of time Karl broke into the charade, and after vaguely mentioning he was tired, his mother when into a mock cuddling mode, cooing to him sarcastically, yet letting the two of you slink away for the night with the promise of finishing the tour before Karl’s brother showed up in the morning.

Soon it was just you and Karl again, him leading you up a flight of stairs. The hallways were lit with small lanterns that at one time had probably fostered candles but were now replaced with electric ones. You weren’t sure where to look as the walls were crammed with painting and photographs. Half of you wanted to admire the architecture while the rest of you was attempting to identify who the artist was that had done most of the artwork.

Karl sighed tiredly, popping open a door and switching on the lights. You bit back a smile at the view of his room in its pristine condition. The various shades of blues and greys accenting the features of his bed and various pieces of furniture. As you looked around, he threw his wallet and keys onto the dresser beside his bed, shutting the door to drown out the faint music coming from the kitchen. You sat in one of the massive chairs beside the fireplace, your mind running blank with disbelief. A fire was already burning in anticipation of his return.

You ran your finger along the seam in the leather. “When you said your family had money… I didn’t picture all,” you paused gesturing around you, “… this…”

He shrugged with a small smile on his face. “Do you wanna know a little piece of Karl lore?” He asked, smugly.

You perked your eyebrows at his words. “You know I do.”

He gestured with his fingers for you to come towards him as he walked closer to one of the massive windows. He settled his hand in the crook of your neck, turning you to look across the pond at a few of the other massive properties. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before pointing at one directly in front of you. “I lost my virginity in that one,” he stated, making you chuckle.

He wrapped his arms around your waist. “And to whom?” You queried, as his teeth nipped at your ear.

You could practically hear him smirk. “Her name was Ms. Scarlet back then, but I think she’s been married again,” he answered, making you freeze in his hold. “I think she was between husband two and three.”

“Wait, what?” You turned around to face him.

He brushed his lips against yours. “You jealous?”

You furrowed your brows at him, pulling out of his touch. “Were you of age?” You questioned, voice coming out in almost a winded laugh.

He shrugged, plopping down on the bed behind him, leaning his weight back on his hands. “Not the first time.” He smiled up at you. “She’s a friend of mine’s mom. I cut her grass that summer.”

You rubbed your eyes. “Jesus Christ,” you murmured. “Did you hook up again after that?” It was like he had opened Pandora’s box, a mass of questions echoing like bees within your mind.

He looked at the ceiling. “We stopped before my sophomore year of college, I think.” He furrowed his brows in thought. “Yeah, so almost five years.” Your mouth gapped slightly. “But only when I came back for breaks.”

“You were seventeen?” You stressed. “And when you came back from where?” You sat beside him, attempting to decide if you should be worried or not. Obviously, it wasn’t a fact you could change, but the fact that a woman had him at so young-

He hummed slightly. “Boarding school,” he mumbled, trying not to seem smug. He wrapped his arm around your waist. “I know it sounds bad now, but she wasn’t taking advantage of me or anything,” he assured. “I think you’d like her, honestly.”

“You think I’d like a woman that preys on little boys?” He snorted at your comment and you smacked his chest, making him laugh louder.

He dug his face into your neck. “Age of consent is lower here,” he continued to assure. “Baby, I’m okay.” His teeth nipped at your skin. “Plus, I don’t think I’d know how to make you feel so good without her.” That made you green around the gills. You attempted to put the thought of Karl and an older woman out of your mind. “How did you lose yours?”

You swallowed your questions, deciding to save them for another day. “In a treehouse before I left for college. With my roommate’s twin brother,” you murmured.

He chuckled. “Oh, shit. We’re both bad friends, aren’t we?” He jested.

You shook your head, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I was dating him, actually. It was really brief.”

“The sex or the relationship?” He asked, making two gesture two fingers into the air. He pulled away from you, sending you a small smile. “And what’s his name? I need to know who you’re comparing me to.”

You scoffed. “Clay,” you answered, the image of the boy flashing into your mind for an instant.

Karl’s demeanor changed. “Clay?” He repeated, sounding like you earlier as you wrapped your brain around the extent of the Jacobs fortune. “What does that seem so familiar…” he trailed off in thought. You perked your eyebrow at him, knowing full-well the two could have unintentionally crossed paths on campus.

The next morning, you could have sworn you were on the set of a period piece if it weren’t for Karl’s father’s golfing attire and his mother’s tight black dress as they welcomed various family members into the house. You had finally met Karl’s older brother, an accomplished man with a good job and an even more impressive education, yet each time he attempted to boast about his earnings or the progress he was bringing to the family business, he was swatted off only for his parents to gloat about Karl’s fraternity connections and grades.

You peered over Karl’s shoulder as he showed you Todd’s Instagram post, the two of you scoffing before you liked his picture from your account, making Karl roll his eyes as you snickered.

“… And that being said, renting cars is no longer a strenuous task,” Karl’s brother finished.

Mrs. Jacobs nodded her head slightly. Karl had mentioned the family joke of disregarding what his brother said, even if it was impressive or you were interested. It had been a running gag since Karl was in high school and they weren’t planning on letting up anytime soon. “Yeah, that’s neat. Did you hear Karl learned how to do his own laundry?” His mom boasted with a small chirp to her voice as if Karl were the best thing on the planet.

You bit back a laugh as his brother grumbled to himself, his wife patting his arm reassuringly. “He was also one of the most expensive at KA. Very impressive son!” His dad added, sending him a thumbs up.

You stood with Karl in the living room; his arm draped around the top of a bookshelf you were leaning against as you both listened to one of his cousins talk about a new boat they had just paid off.

Your heels felt tight on your feet as you switched the weight from one ankle to the other, leaning closer to Karl. He moved so his lips were near your ear. “Don’t let him fool you. It’s a hollowed-out log with a rudder,” he chided, making the corner of your mouth twist up.

“It’s not much, but it’s honest,” you mockingly defended. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“Inexplicably,” he murmured back, making you laugh quietly. He let a beat of silence pass between the two of you before wetting his lips. “Say the word and we’ll find a random room and I’ll ruin your makeup,” he whispered.

You scoffed, inching closer to him while your eyes remained on the center of the room where everyone was talking. “How can you be horny around your family?”

You could feel his warm breath against your neck. “Because I’m more focused on you in that tight little dress than Kevin’s boat.”

You took a sip from your cup. “Dirty boy,” you joshed quietly.

Karl smirked at you before his eyes drifted to the front door, a new flow of people filing into the house. You noticed him grow quiet, following his gaze to a woman and a boy around your age. They greeted Karl’s parents happily before integrating into the living room with the rest of you. You could tell by the way his face twisted smugly that the woman was Ms. Scarlet. You drew in a breath as she neared the two of you.

Karl stood up a bit straighter and you bit back a laugh, making a mental note on having to tease him about his MILF. The woman smiled brightly at Karl, pinching his cheek. You attempted to piece together who the boy was and if Karl had mentioned him before.

Karl cleared his throat after they shared their pleasantries. “Uh, this is Nick, but everyone calls him Sapnap, and this is his mom… Ms. Scarlet?” He questioned the last part as she charmingly laughed.

“Oh, no darling. I’m Mrs. Donahue now.” Sapnap rolled his eyes slightly at her words, taking a sip of his drink as she winked at him.

Karl smirked. “Right, congratulations. Anyway, they’ve been our neighbors for years-”

She cut him off, squeezing his arm. “Oh, come on! We were trying to marry Karl off to one of Nick’s cousins and finally join the families, but it’s just funny how things work out,” she stated. You wracked your brain, attempting to figure out if it was a dig at you or Karl. The two of them went off on a tangent about the array of Sapnap’s cousins that Karl had had to take on dates and whatnot.

“So, you’re dating Karl then?” Sapnap asked you, more of an aside as they had seemed to forget about you.

You nodded; the fact still rather foreign to you when given the chance to think about it. “Yeah, I’ll claim him,” you joked. “Did you guys go to the same high school?” You asked, attempting conversation.

He looked at you tiredly. “Yeah, yeah. We’ve been classmates since we were little.” You hummed in interest. “I mean, since he fucked my mom we haven’t been hanging out or anything,” he added as if you had been itching to ask.

You had been.

You snorted at his words as he smiled slightly. “Sorry, that’s not funny,” you apologized, covering your mouth.

He shook his head, laughing softly. “No, it definitely is, don’t worry.”

“How did, uh… that affect you guys?” You asked, biting back your humorous response.

He seemed to relax from his stiffened introduction a few minutes prior. He wet his lips. “Honestly, there’s no going back from that, you know?”

You giggled. “No, I don’t.”

He laughed at your answer, covering it with a cough as Karl seemed to remember you were standing beside him. Sapnap’s mom suddenly spotted an old friend of hers, the two parting from your life almost as quickly as they had entered. You leaned against Karl’s arm.

“I like Sapnap,” you hummed, watching the two leave. “He seems quiet.” Karl shrugged beside you. Your mind wandered to whether Sapnap knew Todd. Part of you wished you had asked him, but you were struggling to remember Todd’s real name anyway. “Did you have fun with your lady friend?” You mocked, looking up at him.

He shook his head, biting back a smirk. “You’re my lady friend.”

You chuckled. “Oh? I thought you’d forgotten.”

Before you knew it, you were pressed against Karl in a coat closet in a remote part of the house, unable to make it to his room before his hands were up your skirt and his lips were attacking your skin. He pinned you against the door as if he were worried you would slip out of his grasp as he ground his hips against yours. His teeth grazed against your neck in a mess of hands and hair.

You pushed him further into the closet before he plopped down in a chair towards the back. The both of you shared a look of confusion as to why it was there yet shrugged and went back to carding your fingers through his hair and tugging at his lips with your own. He moaned into your mouth as you climbed into his lap, his hands gripping the flesh of your thighs before snaking up to slip into the top of your dress and take your breast into one of his large hands.

Kissing him felt strange without his tongue ring; if you weren’t so desperate to get yourself off, you would have complained about missing it.

You ground yourself on his lap, groaning at your newfound friction as he spread his legs further for you, his free hand dragging you against his crotch. You pressed your lips against his neck, biting at the skin, determined to mark him as yours. You weren’t doing it to ward off Ms. Scarlet, no. This was for you, knowing full well that Karl always wore your hickeys with pride.

Your hands went to his belt buckle, impatience taking over as you nipped at his skin, earning moans of pleasure as he let you have your way with him. He pressed his lips to your chest as you freed his cock from its cloth entrapment, stroking him with your hand. “Give me your panties,” he whispered, breathlessly as he hooked his fingers around your waistband. You obliged before angling him at your entrance and sinking down onto him. The two of you let out moans of pleasure, swallowing each other’s appraisal.

The air grew warm around the two of you as you began to roll your hips against him. Your head tilting back as you tried to quiet yourself down, knowing the last thing you wanted was for someone to walk in… again.

Karl’s fingers moved to unzip your dress, exposing your chest to his mouth as your fingers moved to tug at his dark locks. He ground his hips up into yours, a thankful moan slipping past your lips as his tongue pressed against the valley between your breasts.

You pushed him against the back of the chair, capturing his lips against your and slipping your tongue into his mouth. He completely submitted to your actions, wanting nothing more than to taste you as you began to ride him harder. Your nails dug into the back of the chair, your other hand moving to unbutton the top of his shirt and wrap around his neck. “Is she better than me?” You asked; your breath husky and demanding as his teeth flashed back at you, his leering smirk mixing with his blissed-out expression as he tried not to roll his eyes at how good he felt with you taking all of him.

“N-no. Of course not,” he groaned. His lips were pink from your teeth, cheeks flushed with lust and adrenaline as his blunt nails raked up your body to claw at your back. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, voice almost a whimper.

You moved your hand to press your thumb to brush against his bottom lip, loving the pleasured expression on his face as he looked at you like you owned him. “Good,” you answered plainly, swirling your hips and tightening your grip on his neck before you could feel your impending orgasm nearly within reach. He almost smiled up at you. What a little freak.

You moved your hand to fist in the front of his shirt, pulling him up to press your lips against his as you bounced on top of him. He let out a deep moan before you felt him release, making you scoff sardonically. His fingers moved to grip your hips, thrusting against you harder, determined to get you to follow him. You dug your face into the crook of his neck, his teeth digging into your skin.

Shamelessly, you let him drag you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you with a flash of heat and relief. Karl kissed you roughly, desperate to taste your moans as if looking for your approval. "That's my girl," he moaned, smiling against your lips.

As the two of you straightened your clothing and cleaned up your appearances, you went for your underpants in Karl’s pocket, but he grabbed your wrist, drawing you to his chest. “You got to be on top, that means I’m in charge of foreplay for the rest of the night,” he answered, pressing a brief and sultry kiss against your lips to wipe away your shocked expression.

“Fine, then I’m in charge when we get back and I’ll send lewds to Todd,” you threatened with an empty conscious on the matter. “Just to make it spicy. Stir it up a bit,” you joshed.

He groaned, making you smirk. “You’re playing with fire,” he mumbled.

Tag List:

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @xxtakechancesxx @chxrrymilkshake @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu @theholycakehole @itgetsatadhazy

[shurisneakers]

harmless (i)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, nonsense writing

Word count: 1.5k 

A/N: listen i just needed something to keep my mind busy and a perry the platypus!bucky and dr. doofenshmirtz!reader was the only thing i could think of. dont have any high expectations from this series, you will be sorely disappointed.

If you have any ideas for this series, lemme know!! it’d be cute to write!!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Series Masterlist

Bucky Barnes, for all intents and purposes, is edgy. 

His SHIELD salary is definitely enough to afford him a simple beanie, gloves even if he’s that eager. His long hair, though a spectacle in itself, isn’t as good at keeping away the cold as he claims it to be. 

It’s a personal choice, a fashion statement even, to be roaming the streets in a long flimsy t-shirt that does nothing to accentuate his broad shoulders, and tactical pants that look a little too comfortable. 

It’s cold. He says he likes it, to appease his blond haired best friend who insisted that he wear a cardigan at least. He won’t like it in a while, but he would never admit it.

The bike ride to the other side of town for a minor mission takes longer than he expected. The wind rushing by gets his adrenaline racing. 

Official missions are long and gruelling, and oftentimes not fun. But it gives him a purpose.

It’s easy, therefore, to find him brooding when he’s not on one. 

No one wants their room to be on the receiving end of Bucky’s stress-cleaning sessions. His baking is more appreciated.

So when there’s news of a small time villain creating havoc again, it made sense that he volunteered to go sort it out. No one else wanted the job. They’d all been at it before. 

SHIELD didn’t seem particularly bothered either. 

“It’s not that serious, Barnes.”

“I’m going.”

“Just stop her from doing whatever dumb plan she has today. She seems to have a new one every week.”

“Can I-”

“This is not an assassination mission.”

“Fine. Can I-”

“No.”

“Fine.”

He didn’t know what to expect. He had an idea of how they should be. Smaller villains tended to be more aggressive, vicious to prove their point. They were here to stay.

He wears his regular gear. Enough knives to make a butcher look away in shame, and guns including, but not limited to, his biceps.

He finally pulls the bike to a stop a few metres away, leaving it out of reach in case things got too out of hand. He didn’t want to have to walk back to the Tower, and his friends, as much as they loved him, would never go out of their way to pick him up. Little shits. 

The address is a dingy, plain concrete house near an old construction site. It was flat and felt more like an afterthought than an actual building. It looked more like an abandoned Walmart than an actual villain lair. 

The only entrance is the door in the front. He counts to three, lifting his leg to kick it down.

It falls down ungracefully, loud and creaky like it was bound to the doorframe by rust. 

The only light source inside is a green light. All the way at the other end on an elevated platform is a desk and a chair facing away from him. He can’t see much other than that.

Someone’s laughter comes back loud and booming. He raises his gun, feet apart in a defensive stance. 

“I’ve been expecti-” the voice pauses mid-sentence- “Did you just kick down my door?”

He looks behind him to where the wooden piece is on the floor. He certainly did.

He can finally see you as you stand up, green light illuminating your face. You reach over to the side, pressing a few switches. 

He squints when all the lights turn on, pulling the both of you from darkness. 

“Dude!” you cry out, face twisting into what only could be described as a mix of horror and disdain. “What’d you do that for?”

He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t lower his gun either.

“You’re an Avenger, just fuckin’ pick the lock or something. This is expensive!” 

He only watches as you whine, looking beyond him at your now demolished entrance. You take a few steps closer, jumping down from the elevated platform.

“Insurance isn’t going to cover this.” You drag your palm across your fist before extending it towards him. “Pay up.”

He wasn’t sure if he heard you right.

“What?” he finally asked, voice gruff.

“All you superheroes go around, destroying walls and cars in the name of world peace like you own the damn thing. Not today, bitch boy. Pay up.”

He doesn’t have his wallet with him. He didn’t expect to need it.

“I’m supposed to be stopping you.” 

“You can do that once you pay for my door.” 

You sound resolute, unshaken. A little annoyed. There’s what appears to be a gun in your hand, although it’s unlike any weapon he’s seen before.

“What’s your plan?” Bucky looks at your hand. Your stare follows his. You lift the thing up and he tenses.

“I was going to freeze some jerk but now my plan is to get you cancelled on Twitter.” 

“Why?” his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Local superhero destroys property of tax paying citizen for no good reason.”

“I mean-” he shakes his head, discarding what you’re saying, “-why were you going to freeze someone?”

“Because I wanted to. But you’ve ruined the mood now, so that won’t happen.”

He blinks, lowering his weapon when he realises you weren’t making any attempt to move. “What’s your ulterior motive?”

“Nothing! I just wanted to mildly inconvenience that stupid fuck for being such a prick.”

He doesn’t know what to say. 

“Is that the freeze ray?” Bucky asks instead, raising his gun when he realises there’s a very real chance he could end up like his best friend. 

“You got a problem with it?” You hold it up carelessly. 

“I can’t let you use that.”

“That’s all you’re going to do?” you huff, “Is this what you call an intervention? This is so boring.”

“Give me the freeze ray and no one has to get hurt.” 

“No one was going to get hurt in the first place, genius. All this does is slow him down for 5 minutes so he misses the subway.”

There’s nothing technically that evil about what you’re doing. He doesn’t even know how you ended up on SHIELD’s radar. He gets why no one was particularly driven to take this seriously.

“And for fuck’s sake put that gun away. You’re not scaring me.” 

He doesn’t oblige, even though something tugs at him, telling him that you’re speaking the truth. 

“Here, take the stupid thing.” You don’t bother waiting for his response, bending over and sliding the gun towards his feet. “I’ll find another way to get back at that dickhead.”

It hits his boot with a small thud. He looks down. Its design is ridiculously comical, like you ripped it straight out of a kid’s TV show. 

“Next time, bring some drama. Wear a cape or something.” You wave him off. “Now get out of my lair. I need to fix the door.”

“You don’t have another one of these lying around, do you?”

“Why, do your friends want one too?” The glare you give him is dangerous. He doesn’t react to it. “No, it’s limited edition. I don’t build the same thing twice.”

“You have others?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” A smile grows on your face, dropping as quickly as it arrives. “SHIELD will tell you if I do. Now leave.”

Bucky looks at the freeze ray in his hand. He supposes his job is done. He was told to stop you, but you didn’t seem to have any inclination to go on with your plan.

“You can ask them if you want, they know about me.” You roll your eyes. “Go ahead, call them.”

He doesn’t want to take a chance. As odd as the situation is, it’s still novel and he isn’t quite sure how to deal with it.

He tucks your weapon under his arm, pressing his phone to his ear.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” Maria’s voice is crisp as ever.

“I confiscated a... freeze ray.” He feels ridiculous even saying it. “But I’m going to bring her in to SHIELD headquarter-”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“But we can’t trust-”

“We’ve been keeping tabs on her for a while. She’s more or less harmless. You can take the rest of the night off, Sergeant.”

He cuts the call, not entirely at ease with the smug, expectant look on your face. 

Still, he couldn’t disobey direct orders.

“I’m gonna... go.” He mentions towards the gaping hole in the wall.

“That would be ideal, yes.” You nod, crossing your arm over your chest.

“Okay.” He hesitates, but finally takes a step backwards. He peeks over his shoulder as he leaves, but finds you swivelled away from him again. 

He steps back outside. The cold greets him again like an old friend. The weight of his weapons feels stupidly embarrassing now. 

It’s a long drive back to the Tower. He keeps replaying the entire story in his mind. He’s unsure of whether he made the right call, but no one else really seemed to care. 

He had seen weirder things. It came with the gig.

He leaves it at that.

“How’d it go?” Steve asks him when he walks into the living room.

“T’was fine,” he answers, toying with the stupid device he took from you. Maybe he would test it on Clint. He had been getting annoying lately. Breathing too much in Bucky’s general direction.

A part of him feels guilty for his carelessness towards your building. The other part is just bewildered. 

That night he looks up the cost it takes to replace a door, making a mental note to draw some money from the ATM soon.

Next part

[imtooscaredforthis]

Fixation

Chapter 14: Descent

Mentions of: Harassment, Exhaustion, Knives, etc.

Tags: @froegis @gloomyladyy @xlug713 @darthwhorecrux

For the past couple of days, your Ghostface problem seemed to worsen. You would get constant calls and visits from him, having him torment you, threaten to cut you up, and mess with your head. A part of you couldn’t help but wonder if he was growing stressed and desperate, and that’s why he was messing with you more, but you were too exhausted to care.

Work hasn’t been much better either, thanks to the other Murders. You were slammed with helping write and edit papers with Jed. It seemed that everyone wanted to know what was going on inside Ghostface’s head, but you weren’t so sure anymore.

Especially considering how he was still keeping you alive, and how he was playing with your mind. It was really starting to get to you. But you forced yourself to persevere through it.

So now here you sat, editing your entry for one of Jed’s papers, running a hand through your hair, and taking a small breath. “You alright there, (y/n)?”

Jed stood beside your desk, giving you a tired smile. He didn’t look so good himself, fatigue wearing his handsome features, his brown hair seeming discolored at the roots, almost appearing a bit blonde. It looked like he hadn’t slept in a couple of days, and you couldn’t help but sympathize with him.

“I’m alright, a little tired but okay. What about you?” You answered, plastering a small smile on your face.

“I’d say the same. Done with your entry yet?” He questioned.

“Almost, I just have to edit a few more things and it’ll be ready. Sorry if it’s taking-”

“Oh no no, there’s no rush. Take your time.” Jed reassured, interrupting you. You nodded, turning back to your work, after watching Jed walk off for an extra moment or two.

You looked straight ahead of you, seeing Annie smirking smugly. “Smooth, real smooth.”

“What? I wasn’t- never mind.” You mumbled, face all flustered and heated. From then on, you kept your eyes glued to your computer, focusing on your work.

The day went by fast, and the next thing you knew it was already time for your lunch break. Grabbing your food from the refrigerator in the kitchen, you turned to enter the break room. But before you did, you heard some conversation behind the door, your name being thrown around a bit, so you stopped and listened.

“I can’t believe she’s still here. She barely even does anything.”

“I know right? The only reason why Jed hired her was because he felt bad, and he didn’t want her to end up homeless on the streets.”

While most of it just seemed like jealous insults, you couldn’t help but feel as if their words had some truth to them. Jed did ask you to work with him, right after you got fired, so maybe it was out of pity. Maybe he didn’t think you were talented or smart. Maybe he just felt bad.

“Don’t worry, this killer can’t run free forever, and once they catch the guy, they’ll have no use for her.”

Now that was definitely true. While it didn’t seem like they wouldn’t catch him for a good while, you knew it couldn’t last forever. And once they did, where would that leave you?

Everyone else would be fine. Jed would be fine. He’s a journalist, so just because he specializes in the Ghostface murders doesn’t mean he’ll be out of a job. You, on the other hand, what could they do with you? Have you cover cases on burglars and criminals? Like there was much of that in this town.

You knew for sure it would be over for you. And that was a hard pill to swallow. While the rageful part of yourself wanted to confront them and tell them to quit being such jealous whiny bitches, you knew better than to do that, because things would just escalate, and you’d probably get fired.

So instead, you opted to grab your lunch and head into the bathroom, locking yourself in the stall and eating, as if you were some loner in Highschool or something. You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you are. Since when did things have to get so damn complicated?

--

Soon enough, the long, horrible workday was over, and you were on your way home. In any other situation, you’d be more than thrilled to go home, but since you knew what was waiting, or rather who, you weren’t so enthusiastic.

It didn’t take long for him to arrive, and you weren’t surprised when a pair of gloved hands covered your eyes. “Guess who?”

“What do you want?” You asked with an exhausted sigh.

“Who rained on your parade, huh? So grouchy, jeez. Is it because your little boyfriend isn’t giving you enough attention?” Ghostface moved his hands from your eyes, trailing them down to your throat, caressing your skin softly.

You felt your face begin to heat up at the sensual touch, trying to ignore it. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Aw, I thought you liked him. Guess I’m you’re favorite, huh? Well, I’m flattered.” He teased, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I never said-” Ghostface shushed you, bringing up the knife to your lips.

You felt some nausea swirl around in your stomach as that blade ran over your lips. How many people had it stabbed? How many people were gutted, their insides torn from the outsides with that same knife? You prayed he washed it.

“You're so tense, you should relax.” The killer said, trailing his free hand down your throat and to your shoulder, massaging it slightly.

Maybe I’m tense because you’re holding a god damn knife to my face, asshole.

You thought to yourself and had to force your mouth shut to try and not say anything. He trailed his hand down, moving it over your chest, tracing the outline of your waist, and running his hand down your thigh. You felt your body go hot at the touch, ashamed that he could make you have such a reaction.

Before he could do any more your phone began to ring, interrupting him. He moved away from you, gesturing for you to go answer. Reluctantly, you walked over to the phone, picking it up.

“Hello?” You questioned, while Ghostface stood behind you, caressing your body, making a shiver run down your spine. You kept yourself from leaning into the touch, trying to focus.

“(Y/n), I’ve been calling you all day. Why haven’t you picked up? Is everything alright? You sound scared.” Your mother replied. She was the worst person to be calling right now. If she knew what was actually going on, she’d probably have a heart attack.

“I’m fine. I was just at work, and I’m a bit tired. There’s no need to worry.” You told her, hearing her sigh in relief on the other line.

“Oh, that’s good. I just wanted to let you know that Alex was released today. I figured it would be the best if you heard from me.” You felt your heart sink into the pits of your stomach. And it was not because of Ghostface. It seemed that the one person you dreaded more than him was free.

And you were terrified.