#not tagging it all but seriously putting everything that happened aside a lot of you are genuinely great people

[wetterfishguts]

yea i know i said i wasn't gonna post anything td related and i'm NOT but i just wanted to release this dumb thing i was working on for a while. idk i feel like maybe someone could get some enjoyment out of it lest it go to waste. think of it as a final farewell

my not-so magnum opus of an obby

have fun with it i guess. was fun whilst it lasted !

[blnk338]

COD HEADCANONS 3

COD HEADCANONS 1

COD HEADCANONS 2

REAP WHAT YOU SOW | GHOST X READER ON AO3!

Price:

Generally grew up with a pretty dull family life; parents were distant, especially his dad

Made a vow that he would not only be a good father, but he would remind those around them that they are watched over, whether they liked it or not

Dad taxation like it’s the end of the fucking world.

Oh you got a little sweet drink? Better not look away, he’s taking a sip

Buy candy at the gas station? His arm’s already careened around the side of the driver’s seat, asking you for some

Big on movies, but will absolutely fall asleep while watching them, then shoot up and tell you not to change the channel when you even touch the remote

Struggles a lot internally trying to deal with the fact that every mission might be his last with his boys, mulling over the loss of Alex, wondering if the same will happen to Gaz

Genuinely sees Garrick as the son he never had and knows that the kid admires him

It’s not often Price gets a hug or a pat on the back, but it’s hard for him to hide the wide smile that spreads across his lips when one of his team wraps an arm around him or pats his shoulder.

Survivor’s guilt to the max, man. Every mission is a mental preparation for the worst, and the very idea that he could be responsible for any one of the 141’s deaths weighs on him like all hell

Couldn’t decide if he wanted to get ordained or be the best man at Laswell’s wedding, so he did both. He sobbed as he read out his lines, then threw dad ass during the after-party.

Has a habit of calling his team, especially Gaz, “son” and has just gotten so used to it that he’s stopped correcting himself, and not a single member has brought it up seriously (aside from gag gifts for the holidays)

The warmest, most loving hugs out of the entire 141. The other's hugs are great, but there is so much genuine care put into every single bear hug of his. Each embrace holds you like it's your last, enveloping you in warmth as he mutters a few words of comfort, thanks, or both.

Wishes he could be a better father to his own daughters, but continuously finds reasons to stay in the military

Because of that, he is the absolute worst at discipline when he's on leave. He can scold as much as he wants, but his kids know he’s not being serious. Spoils them to not end.

His daughters also love Gaz and see him as an older brother

Gaz:

Like Price, there’s a lot of internal blame for everything.

Maybe if he shot first, or got to the site faster—maybe if he was better... those soldiers, those people, could’ve been saved.

Sees himself often as a shield, a hand in battle, and with that, sees himself as expendable. If it means seeing his team come back alive, he’d do anything to make sure that they’re okay.

Selfless to a fault. He’s taken more bullets, more stabs, and more punches than anyone else on the team during TF-141’s active timeframe. Price worries like hell over him because, on most missions, he comes back with at the very least a swollen cheek.

Considered smoking to take the edge off, but hates the taste of cigarettes and cigars, and prefers edibles over it all.

Even with that, he still tries to handle it “naturally,” insisting he’s alright and doesn’t need anything to cope, that the stress and anxiety will just pass eventually.

Refused therapy for a long time because he was afraid of getting worse, but eventually started going and has overall enjoyed his time

Was a parkour kid and then just… never lived it down.

Because of this, it’s nearly impossible to get away from the guy. Soap’ll pull pranks on him and have the guy in a dead sprint across base, leaping and vaulting off of boxes, crates, and other soldiers just to catch the Scotsman.

Bit people when he was a kid, too

Says “bruh”

“A woman? The only woman in my life is Joann Fabrics.”

Knows how to sew, patches up his clothes all the time, stitching his initials into the tags.

What can he say? He likes to keep his stuff to himself (plus with all of the stuff that Soap steals, if he doesn’t put a label on ‘em, they’ll be right in the lost and found)

Bit his nails pretty far down to the point where they hurt, so he tried out different nail polishes to keep himself from biting. When on the field, if he feels like he needs to bite them, he just sharpie’s them in (it works well enough for the guy)

Is completely content with drinking things right out of the fridge, regardless of who’s home. The milk you got yesterday? He’s just takin’ a quick swing, no worries, no really, it’s fine—just a sip, JUST A SIP—

Soap:

This guy plasters on a smile to cover up his crazy anxiety and intense paranoia; the responsibility he feels for his team, especially his lieutenant, is fucking crazy

He’ll take a bullet for everyone, but he’s more than willing to take whatever is needed for Ghost or Price, knowing they’re a higher rank, therefore sees them as more important. He holds Gaz in the same way, but he can't act the same because he's supposed to see him as equal; yet he would willingly take an RPG for the kid

Loves giving himself and his teammates spa days; face and hair masks, deep conditioning, threading eyebrows

Big on physical affection, but really relishes in the idea that he can do things for the people he cares about instead of hugs if preferred

The guy’s filled with so much love, it’s hard to contain, but he’s really really good at waiting and holding back for those who aren’t as into touching.

Like he knows Price loves hugs, so he’ll take any chance to pat his shoulder or include him in the fun, wrapping an arm around him, engaging him with the rest of the team’s shenanigans

Gaz loves the silly stuff with Soap, so they’ll pretend to make out or make fake moaning sounds, smacking the walls to make it seem like they’re fucking or something just to mess with any poor bystanders on base; adores how much shit he can pull with Gaz, so at the drop of a feather, he’s up and ready to fuck around and find out with the younger Brit. They are responsible for thousands of dollars in property damage.

Quality time with Roach is a big thing for the two of them since Roach seemingly always has something he has to do, and Soap can’t always help him (paperwork and such); just sitting in the same room, making light conversation, or doodling on the scratch paper while his fellow sergeant files papers is enough for him.

He knows Ghost isn’t huge on physical affection, so all of his touches never go past a short, half-embrace; usually landing on things like a clap on the shoulder or punch to the arm. Otherwise, Soap’ll run around doing tasks for him, helping him with the privates for the day, and other mundanities for his lieutenant. If it makes his life easier, Soap would tell him to consider it done before he even starts.

Sometimes wonders how good the team would be without him; if it all came down to it, what would he need to do to make sure that the 141 could manage without his support?

Big overthinker. Spends hours sometimes just cleaning the same knife over and over again, staring off into space, eyes blank as his mind tries to click puzzle pieces together

Thalassophobia

Still calls it a “slumby” instead of a slumber party

“It’s not a slumber party”

“YES IT IS WERE HAVING FUN AND WERE STAYING THE NIGHT IT’S A SLUMBY”

Its an abandoned warehouse in the middle of no where, there’s leaks in the roof, and the ground is damp.

Ghost:

Was a really anxious kid that ended up trying to cover it all up in his teens. Was actually kinda popular in high school; athletic, good-natured, and genuinely tried his best in his courses. There was always something sort of off about him though, he’d sit in class with a faraway look, spacing out, sometimes coming into school with eyebags for days.

Bit people as a kid

Wanted to go to college for computer engineering, but was highly discouraged and ended up getting into the military instead (as well as other reasons)

Still sometimes wonders about working with tech instead of using firearms, but those are just dreams, nothing more. He has a job to do now, it’s useless to think about anything but that.

Trusts every single member of the 141 (eventually Alej and Rudy) with his life. Is absolutely terrible at actually saying it, but would take a tank to the teeth to make sure they all end up alive. He isn’t willing to let them be selfless—he isn’t willing to give anyone up.

Milk drinker

Raw egg eater

Likes almonds, does not like cashews. Has never given a reason why.

Does not care for bugs.

“Why are you screaming, it’s a beetle.”

Doesn’t really get the whole deal about insects because they're usually so easy to take care of, but will remove them once everyone quiets down, taking a little piece of paper and cup, scooping up the little thing, and placing it outside. If someone's got a fear, he respects it and will take care of it, but he does it all with a neutral look on his face.

His main party trick is that he can swallow a cup of jello without blinking.

Just bottoms up, down the hatch, and done

Soap tried to do the same thing once and it ended up with him making a HOUGH sound and the jello, still fully intact, shooting across the room and splatting against the wall

Likes to write down jokes he thinks of on his arm; carries a pen everywhere

On that note, his arm and hands are his notepads. You can easily find random numbers, dates, a few mismatched words, and a small grocery list all on his non-dominant hand

Feels like he can’t ever get married or have kids because he’s so afraid of what happened to his parents will happen to him, and he never wants to do that to anyone, especially someone he loves

Still struggles with a lot of self-worth, denying the idea of a family or a stable future. It’s easier to not think about the future when you aren’t sure if you’re going to make it through the next mission

Is Normal British Guy #81 in his civvies, unless with the 141. He’ll wear a scarf or a mask for hunting or for winter, but he genuinely doesn’t wear shit during normal hours. If he's with one of his teammates, he'll wear a face mask of any sort.

One time, Soap was down south to pick up a specific brand of coffee he likes (yes, he’s particular), and Simon, who was getting some last-minute groceries, just stared at him for a good nineteen seconds before walking to the back of the store.

Soap didn’t know it was him.

... and he never will because Ghost’ll never tell him

Nosey nelly, this one.

Knows everyone’s info, for some reason.

He knows your address, and your social security number, oh, tell your mom “happy birthday.”

The team’s gotten used to it because he’s gotten better, but they all know that he’s seen their files.

it's all precautionary, doesn't intend for it to be creepy

[rottenbrainstuff]

Haha ok I am convinced. It takes a LOT to motivate me to watch a new show, but I am so convinced by what I've seen of IWTV that I am going to give it a try tonight. I even have one single glass of red wine left for it!

The thing is: I am extremely ambivalent about this whole... what.. franchise? Series? Little coven of crying gay babies?

I was a big giant fan of the vampire chronicles in the 90s and 2000s. I really do legit love the characters that were created: I love their damage, I love how articulate Anne Rice was about describing their issues, how vampirism has fucked up each and every one of them. I loved how sensual the books were, the beautiful descriptions of everything. I found it so interesting how everything could be so sexy when it very specifically contained no sex. I loved her vampire lore, I loved her take on traditional vampires. I know sensual romantic vampires are a bit of an eye-roll these days but I feel like back in the 90s it actually was something a bit more fresh.

Interview especially had some really amazing ideas in it. I remember really loving that book.

Lestat was an interesting book but tbh she lost me a bit with some of the lore. It really put a lot of Interview into perspective though. (is Lestat's mom in this show??? She seems like a bad bitch I'd like to see pop in)

I read about half of Armand and oddly couldn't make myself finish it, or read any more of the chronicles. I actually don't even remember what happened in that book anymore.

(I had a copy of Queen of the Damned but I can’t remember if I read it or not. If I did, I don’t remember anything from the plot)

As much as I remember enjoying reading Interview, I found it increasingly hard to reconcile my enjoyment of the books with my knowledge of what a nasty person Anne Rice was, and the extremely shitty things she did in (or I guess TO) the fandom. As the books went on I found the writing style less interesting and more irritating and pretentious. I gave an attempt to start that witch coven series and was surprised by how I couldn't get into it. I tried reading her Sleeping Beauty series and got viscerally disgusted. (disgust aside, it was a shock how poorly written I thought it was) Again, her reactions to the fandom for that were bemusing as well. Her weird and personal obsession with her own characters is extremely reminiscent to me of Stephanie Meyer if she was goth instead of mormon, and it makes it difficult for me to take it all seriously sometimes.

So........ I'm in this position where I think I do genuinely like the characters and the ideas, but I intensely dislike Anne Rice and view her as generally overrated as an author, and that soured the whole series for me. But I've been seeing all these clips online and I dunno. I like what I see. It feels the characters I like were pulled out of her weird mean hands and dusted off. I like that absolutely no clips I've seen really match anything that I remember reading in the books. I like that it looks actually, unambiguously gay. I like that in almost every single clip I've seen, all the characters ever seem to be doing is screaming at each other for stupid shit. I like that it looks ridiculous and deranged. I dunno. I kinda have high hopes that with this show, I'll be able to learn how to like these characters again.

(I'm being smacked in the face btw with my age once again - so many of you mention that you never watched the old (not very good) Tom Cruise movie. If you were a teenager in the 90s I think it was impossible to have avoided it. Or is it just that my friend group was particularly strange?)

I'll pop my thoughts in here but I'll tag appropriately, so if you don't want that nonsense, you don't have to see it.

[caritobbg]

Coffee Disaster — P3

Bucky Barnes x Barista!Fem!Reader x Father figure!Tony Stark x Avengers.

Summary: Will James Bucky Barnes be able to take his nemesis at his word and join forces? The answer may surprise even the Avengers themselves.

A/N: After changing a lot of things, finally part 3 of this fic appears !!!! Your reactions are going to be worth gold with this chapter 🤭😂 the more I'm thinking the more I want to write 😗👀

P.S: you're going to be nutritionists too 👀 (sorry not sorry guys 😂)

I hope you like it 🤭

Tag: @ro-is-struggling @luciasimmer96 @aquanova99 @themorningsunshine @mads-weasley @alexsoenomel

If you wanna be tagged, feel free to tell me 🥺❤️

Warnings: angry reader - kilocalories (those bastards are the worst to calculate 🥲) - exams - stressed reader - fluffy Bucky - fatherly Tony

Tony: - without looking up - are you ready Barnes?

Bucky: Yeah - next to Sam - we're ready.

Tony: - putting his glasses aside - you sure you want to help, Wilson?

Sam: Absolutely.

Nat & Bruce: - walking in - we're ready too.

Bucky: Guys...

Nat: We heard everything - interrupting - we know what happened when Tony went on his way to the office.

Bucky: w... How what....

Bruce: - defending himself - it was Natasha's idea, not mine - backing away as the redhead gave him her trademark murderous look

Sam: Wait a minute - watching as the man with the prosthetic arm - so you know what he said?

Tony: What and who? - confused -

Nat: Y/N confessed his love for your nemesis.

Bucky: thank you very much Nat, you're a great help - sarcastically -

Tony: I don't understand - Putting the pieces together - Wait... Did she mean it? - incredulous - you're not kidding, are you?

Bruce: did Nat ever lie about something like that?

Tony: Well ....

Nat: - exasperated - the point is Bruce can say it's true and apparently Barnes already told Wilson. So... - shrugging her shoulders -

Tony's head started to fit everything together. Piece by piece. The times he found them sleeping draped and cuddled on the couch in the living room, the late night conversations in the cafeteria or the library (courtesy of F.R.I.D.A.Y.), the way they looked for each other with their eyes at every party he hosted, even when Bucky arrives from the missions! The poor girl almost fainted when she once saw him full of wounds!

Tony: s... Seriously... - looking slowly at Bucky - and you like her too...

The supersoldier sat looking at the collage, totally dejected. At that very moment he wanted to disappear from the face of the earth!!!!

Bucky: - quietly and looking at the collage - yeah

Tony: Do you like her? - asking as if to confirm what he heard.

Bucky: - almost shouting - Yes! Yes, I like Y/N, in fact I love her! - walking around the office - and I'd do anything to turn back time so I don't make her suffer! - agitated - I want her to be more than my best friend! I said it the day of the fight and I'm going to keep saying it!

Tony was more than satisfied with the confession he had just heard.  Smiling, he approached his nemesis, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Tony: I believe you - sincere - that's all I needed to hear.

Bucky: - looking at him in confusion and sadness - Tony...

Tony: I trust you, Barnes - taking the collage in Bucky's hands and looking it over carefully - as long as she's with you, nothing's going to happen to our girl.

Bucky: That's more than settled, Stark - looking at everyone - all right, you want to help us, don't you? - seeing that everyone was nodding - good. Everything we need to know is in that collage.

Sam: Everything?

Tony: yeah - showing it - from the environment, machine, crockery, furniture. Everything.

Bruce: And how do we go about getting all that?

Nat: the right question would be how do we do this without Y/N suspecting something?

Tony: I don't know, but we'll make her dream come true - turning to look around at everyone -

Bucky: - grabbing the collage again and extending his arm to the middle of the room - who's with us?

Each person in the room put their hands on the box, making it more than clear that they would help set things right and secretly get James Buchanan Barnes and Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N together once and for all.

Bucky: right - looking at everyone for the last time - let's get started!

The next day.....

Steve: Bucky... - looking everywhere for his friend - has anyone seen Bucky?

Steve went all over the tower looking for his best friend with no success, he thought maybe he could have gone for a jog on his own but it was illogical at 10am!

Y/N: Hi Steve! - in the kitchen - Coffee?

Steve: Good morning Y/N/N. What's that? - confused by the object on the counter - and did you see Bucky anywhere? I can't... - he cursed himself for mentioning his best friend's name.

Y/N: ahh... No, I didn't and I don't want to see him, to be honest - she knew that Steve said it with all the kindness and honesty in the world, but she didn't want to hear about the person she confessed her love to in the middle of all this disaster.

Steve: don't worry, I understand - scratching his neck -

Y/N: thank you Stevie - smiling a little bit

Wan: good morning! Uhhh - looking at Y/N - filtered?

Y/N: - laughing at the questions of the pair present - yes. This is a chemex 6 cup coffee maker, it's a bit tedious because of the paper filter but.... The taste is worth it!

Steve: I don't understand much - looking at what his favourite barista was doing - but isn't there a metal filter for that?

Wan: I was going to ask the same question - reaching for his favourite cup - can I try it?

Y/N: Sure! I'll pour you a cup each - taking out the filter with the coffee grounds - and yes, there are metal filters for chemex and all sizes - pouring into the two cups - but I couldn't get one.

Wan: why not?

Y/N: all out of stock - shrugging her shoulders - anyway, I'll be in my room if you need help with anything, I have an exam coming up and I haven't started studying, yet - washing her hands - so it's time for me to make it - sighing - if you want more coffee, you can help yourself

Steve: thanks doll and... - taking a sip - is this the new one from the other day?

Y/N: yes! How did you know?

Steve: it's what you described, that last taste that no one can get out - laughing and earning a little look from Wanda - what?

Wan: Rogers, since when...

Y/N: thank you! - smiling - Wan, I needed you to taste this Kenya's coffee, you don't know what you're missing!

Y/N headed to her room, thinking about the exam that was coming up. She was a nutrition student at NYIT, one of the most prestigious universities in NYC. Tony had taken it upon himself to find the best college for her.

Y/N: Really? - wanting to access her virtual encyclopaedia of human anatomy and physiology - why can't I!!? - wrong password; wrong password; wrong password; wrong password again and again! She needed to access that program to start studying! - TONY!!!!!!! - getting up from the chair - F.R.I.DA.Y, do you know if Tony is in the lab?

F.R.I.D.A.Y:-after a moment- No Miss Y/L/N, but Dr Banner is there.

Y/N: Thank you, let him know I'm on my way, I need to know what Tony did with the password -taking her phone and leaving again- first the cafeteria and now this... I'm going to kill him !!!!!

F.R.I.D.A.Y: Don't worry, Miss Y/L/N.

Meanwhile in the avengers lab....

Bucky: -taking stock of everything that was on the counter- I think this is enough, we already have paint, the necessary tools...

Bruce: Then come on, we have to get started if we want this thing finished by...

F.R.I.D.A.Y: Dr Banner - making them both look up at the ceiling - Miss Y/L/N is heading to the lab, I would suggest you hide everything before she finds out what you plan to do...

Bruce&Bucky: FUCK!

Bruce: Ahhh.... ok, thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y -putting everything on the floor with Bucky's help- we need to stay calm, get everything out of here and....

Bucky: What do we do? -nervous- She wants my head as well as Tony's. If she sees me HERE, she'll kill me. 

Bruce: Barnes - "staying calm" - hide! Here she comes! -Hearing rushing footsteps

Bucky: Where the hell do you want me to hide?! There's no place...

Y/N: Bruce? Are you here? -almost to the door

Bruce: Hide back here! Anywhere! -Bucky, listening to him, hid behind the same counter - Barnes, what are you doing?!

Bucky: I'm trying to duck so he doesn't see me! What do you want me to do?!

Bruce: Hold still before I...-looking up- hey! Y/N/N! F.R.I.D.A.Y told me you were coming, what happened? -trying not to get her to suspect anything

Y/N: Bruce, do you know if Tony changed the password on the anatomy and physiology hologram encyclopaedia again?

Bruce: -checking the computer- I think... yes, he did it again - sighing-

Y/N: -pinching her nose- I can imagine the reason -looking at the screen- do you know what it is?

Bruce: Unfortunately not -commiserating with the girl- you have an exam coming up, don't you?

Y/N: Yes - making Bucky light up a little light bulb - Dietotherapy pathophysiology exam.

Bruce: If you want, I can give you mine so you can at least access what you need - grabbing a pen and paper-

*Bucky: -whispering and grabbing Bruce's ankle- ask her when it is!*

Y/N: that would be a big help! -relieved-

Bruce: No problem Y/N/N -smiling- ahh... when would your exam be?

Y/N: Ammm -checking his phone- from today, thursday.... in about three weeks, why?

*Bucky: tell him there's a barista fair in...*.

Bruce: No, no reason - giving James a "little kick" under the table - it was so that no one starts bothering you and you're left alone to study.

*Bucky: And what was that for?! -receiving ANOTHER kick- ouch!*

Y/N: What was that?

Bruce: What was that?

Y/N: I thought I heard Bucky complaining about something -fuck.......-

Bruce: Amm...- looking for an excuse- I thought I saw him walking down the hallway, I think he was in gym clothes.

Y/N: that makes more sense...-laughing- well, I'm off to study, thanks Bruce!

Bruce: Y/N/N, wait -making the girl turn around- are you ok?

Y/N: Yeah, better than ever, why? -she clearly wasn't-

Bruce: If you want to talk, I'm here for whatever you need.

Y/N: Thanks Bruce -half smiling- don't worry about it.

Bruce: You can get out of there -helping him up once she were gone- Bucky?

Bucky: Bruce...-looking at him- she's not well Y/N/N

Bruce: No -affirming what his partner was thinking- keep thinking about what happened with you... -seeing him grabbing the toolboxes previously placed on the floor- what are you doing?

Bucky: Doing what I can to change the story -waiting for the Hulk to grab the cans to leave with the others- our plan kicks off today.

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

Returning to the kitchen with a confused Steve.

Once Y/N was out the door, and making sure he wasn't coming back, Wanda hurried to fill 4 more cups with the freshly brewed brew.

Steve: What are you doing?

Wan: You keep an eye out for Y/N. I'll explain later.

Steve: I'd rather you explain to me now what's going on and where Bucky is - crossing his arms; he suspected the Scarlet Witch knew something and wasn't letting on - he's been weird since the incident, you know?

Wan: I'll explain that once I wash that thing - pointing to the coffee pot - put the cups on a tray and follow me.

Steve: But...

Wan: just follow my lead Rogers!

Steve: ok...

Once the perimeter was secure, Wanda came out of the kitchen first to check that the coast was clear and hurriedly told Steve to get out of there and follow her, no questions asked, for the time being.

Steve: Maximoff, where are you leading me? - slowing down - what is all this?

The place was full of plastic curtains, a makeshift door with two wooden planks and very little lighting. It looked like they were entering the hideout of a killer from one of those horror movies Clint used to choose for Halloween.

Wan: right - with her back to the door - first of all, Y/N makes coffee for everyone but two people who we already know who they are, don't we?

Steve: Yeah.... - looking at her suspiciously - she's torturing them with it. And what's it got to do with you bringing me here? This place looks like something out of a serial killer movie!

Wan: It's not what you think Rogers - turning to open the door - Tony and Bucky are going to explain what's going on.

Wanda ran a timber and found all the avengers gathered in a very large place. There were construction materials everywhere, paint cans, lumber, tools... But James Barnes wasn't there. Yet.

Wan: We're here - walking towards them with the tray that Steve had in his hands seconds ago - we had to wait for Y/N/N to leave the kitchen so we could get coffee without him suspecting anything.

Tony: We love you Maximoff!!! - exaggeratedly praising her - it's torture not to be able to have this freshly brewed coffee every morning!

Nat: Stop exaggerating Stark, though.... That's a good method of torture she's using on you two.

Tony: and I hope she never uses it again - sipping the black elixir - Rogers, if this is the coffee they were talking about the other day, let me tell you, it's amazing.

Steve didn't understand anything. Why were they all gathered in this part of the tower with all this stuff? And where was Bucky!?

Steve: Ok, wait a minute - pinching his nose - what are we doing here and why are we on the ground floor of the tower surrounded by... Whatever is this?

Sam: that.... Barnes will explain it - smiling and taking a seat with everyone.

Steve: and where's Buck? - following the others - nobody wants to tell me where he is!

Bruce: We're back! - loading up some paint cans - sorry for the delay, we needed a mini distraction to get Barnes out of there without Y/N seeing what we were carrying - leaving behind him a James Bucky Barnes carrying four toolboxes in his arms

Bucky: Yeah, those kicks hurt.

Bruce: I had to do something to keep you quiet, she was going to find out what we were looking for! -looking at Tony- by the way, Y/N will kill you for changing the password, your strategy to get me to talk to you half worked.

Tony: Then I'll go and have a word with her -leaving the cup- my plan didn't work, but I'll get her to talk to me -carrying the cans of paint with the others

Steve: - smiling and understanding some of what was going on - Buck, I've been looking for you all day!

Bucky: - dropping everything on the floor and moving away from the rest - been doing a couple of things. I made a promise and I'm not going to break it.

Steve: - putting a hand on his shoulder - you're really going to make THE dream coffee shop?

Bucky: Yeah, it's the least Y/N deserves, Steve. Besides - crossing his arms and looking down at the floor - yesterday.... She confessed that he loves me and .... - before I could ask the question - left before I could tell her I felt the same way.

Steve: Buck...

Bucky: I have to do this, Steve. I'm not going to lose her over some stupid mistake like a fight.

Steve: in that case - admiring his determination - where do I jave to start?

Bucky: I knew I was going to count on you - hugging him

Steve: Til' the end of the line, pal - grinning

Tony: OK - once everyone was close enough and Bucky was at his side - what we're going to do is this - walking back and forth - we know this is a huge project and our little girl's dream, so we're going to do what we need to do to make it happen. This - pressing a button on the control in her hands - is what she wants. This place was my old workshop, it has everything you need. From water connections to heating.

On the wall they could see pictures of vintage style coffee shops, cosy, with neutral colours and exposed bricks, spaces to read and study, a giant menu with all kinds of coffee drinks (with and without alcohol) and tea, among many other dreamy things. Some were taking notes, wondering where or who could help them get it all, others were gawking.

Bucky: also - seeing how the film was changing - the espresso machine we set out to get with Stark is a Carimalli two or three group, black with a capacity for 16 litres of water, and this white La Marzocco with small blue flowers, something like porcelain.

Clint: Where did you get that information Barnes? It's too specific!

Tony: never ask a man in love where he gets his information from Barton.

Wan: - changing the subject to stop Clint from asking any more questions - where could that machine be found?

Bucky: in three weeks there's a barista trade show in NYC, where the Carimalli company will be - pointing to the brochure on the screen -

Bruce: that's about the same day as your pathophysiology exam, isn't it?

Bucky: exactly

Nat: And what do you want us to do?

Tony: after her exam take her to the fair, go to the Carimalli stand and ask them to bring some of these espresso machines here.

Steve: how?

Sam: we could be at the back of the fair waiting in my van - looking at everyone for approval - it'll be easier that way to get them to the tower.

Bucky: We'd have to get someone to come and set them up.

Tony: Good idea - finishing the presentation - let's get on with it.

The project was starting today, no excuses. All the Avengers, even half the SHIELD agents, started setting up the whole place.

Tasks?

- polish the floors

- plaster the walls and paint

- get the chairs and tables (courtesy of Sam)

- adequate lighting

- distract and keep Y/N away.

Sam and Steve were in charge of furnishing, Clint, Wanda and Natasha of preparing and painting the walls, Bucky and Bruce of polishing the floors. They all had their chores divided up but....

Wan: Hey, have any of you seen Tony? I need him to tell me where the lamps I just found would go.

Bruce: - slowing down the polisher - he said he had something to do before he went on.

Wan: do something? What could be more important than that?

Bucky: I don't know?

Wan: -sighing and putting down the computer- I better go get him, if he's gone to take a break now, I'll get him by the ear.

_________________________________________

Y/N: I appreciate with all my being that Bruce gave me his password, but this is driving me crazy - she muttered to herself; the kind of program he was using was not the same as the one Tony had programmed for her- next time I do this I'll tell Pepper...

Seeing that she couldn't concentrate in her room, she went to the living room. It was more comfortable, had more space and, obviously, the kitchen was closer. That was a crucial part for when she started preparing for exams.

As her good luck charm, she decided to put on comfortable clothes, glasses and her hair in a messy but cute bun, make her favourite coffee, ask F.R.I.D.A.Y to put on warm light so her eyes wouldn't start to get tired, and her headphones to listen to the pre-recorded lecture they had left on the faculty platform.

Y/N: ok, let's see.... -reviewing her notes on diabetes-.

Time was passing and she was still studying. There was no one to disturb her, thanks to Bruce. With the tower supposedly deserted, plus points for her study environment, she was coming up on a quarter of the topics for the exam.

Y/N: -scrubbing her face- why don't I get this shit? -the calm didn't last long- I've got everything! Why don't I get the kcals!!!!!???? - yeah... when the kcals don't add up in a meal plan it's best to stay away from it; Nick Fury almost got hurt and lost his other eye once when he interrupted her study session when she had just started her degree and... Anyway... story for another day.

While she was still muttering angrily, Tony was watching her from the kitchen doorway. Sheets and books scattered all over the place, two cups of Y/F/C (your fav coffee), calculator and pencil in hand.... God! He had adoration for that little 27 year old! From the day he introduced her to all the avengers, he knew that in less than a day she would be part of the family. And so she was.

Y/N: Ok -exasperated- I add this and that and... I would have to give me... about...1500kcal.... -comparing results- AHHH!!!!!! I HAVE TO CHANGE EVERYTHING AGAIN!!!!

Tony: -trying not to laugh- how long have you been on this meal plan? Ok, take it easy -seeing that the girl was startled- why don't you rest a bit and try again later?

Y/N: Tony -leaving everything on the little table- shouldn't you be with Pepper or whoever you have to do something with?

Tony: -sitting next to her- Nope -emphasizing the last part- I wanted to talk to you about something important.

Y/N: And what might that be? -looking at him suspiciously- if it's about the password....

Tony: Ammm.... yes... about that... -grabbing the device and typing -there you go, you can log in again. Sorry about that, I needed some excuse to get you to talk to me again.

The longest silence Ironman had ever experienced in his life. Y/N looked dumbfounded from the computer to the man on her left, not knowing what to say. She knew it was an excuse, but to hear it from his mouth, it was.... weird.

Y/N: I'm still upset - taking off her reading glasses and scrubbing her eyes - I know you swore and you want to protect me, but this has gone too far.

Tony: that's why I wanted to apologise to you. And a very big one apologie. I shouldn't have behaved like that with Barnes and even less in the place you loved the most and it had a lot of meaning, - he said sincerely- I know you're still not going to forgive me, but I swear to Pepper that... I'm capable of turning back time and...

Y/N: -taking his hand and making the man shut up- Stark -he didn't know if it was a good or bad sign- it's enough that you're honest -smiling- I know you said all this from your heart and it means a lot to me.

Tony: That means...

Y/N: you're apologized, half-apologized, but apologized.

Tony: that's what I wanted to hear - but... - hey, are you ok?

Y/N: Ammm... not really, Tony -hugging herself- yesterday I did something I shouldn't have done and...

Tony: What's wrong? - he was so sure of what it was that he wanted the super-soldier under the counter to listen-.

Y/N: Amm... -almost hesitantly- ItoldBuckyIlikedhimandranoff -bingo!

Tony: What? -wanting her to repeat what he said so fast

Y/N: I told Bucky how I felt about him and I left -closing his eyes and putting his hands on the coffee table-

Tony: - "surprised"- What? What did he say?

Y/N: I left before he could say anything -covering her face- told him a lot of things! I was, and am, so upset about everything that happened that I just acted without thinking! No... -sighing exhausted- I didn't want him to find out like that!

Tony: You wanted it to be special, didn't you? -His eyes softened at the sight of her, after all the bad relationships she'd been through, she'd finally found someone who loved her for who she was; Tony felt more than guilty for having stopped Barnes from asking her out.

Y/N: Yeah -looking at the floor- I wanted it to be a special moment, something that neither of us could forget...-she looked up- I fucked everything up, didn't I?

Tony: Hey -hugging her while she was crying- you didn't ruin it, ok?. You wanted to let off steam and you did it that way -without letting go of her- I'm more than sure that this is all going to work out, make no doubt about it.

Y/N: -with a broken voice- and how do you know that? You should have seen his face Tony!!! I really think I've ruined our friendship forever.

Tony: I know Barnes -undoing the hug and wiping away a tear that was falling down his cheek- between the two of us we'll do our best to get out of this setback

Y/N: Yes, I know -smiling a little- it's... it's the first time in my life that someone has made me fall in love like this... I also wish I could turn back time and avoid saying all those things to him and shut my big mouth.

Tony: It'll go back to the way it was, don't worry.

Tony: -looking at the sheet of paper after a few moments- let me see that -taking a pencil and checking for any calculation errors- I think... there's a mistake here -pointing to the total caloric value- look, you made a mistake when passing numbers

Y/N: What? But if I...-taking the calculator and making the correction Tony had made- but...-comparing the results- now it gave what I needed!

Tony: Go and get some rest - gently and giving him a tender kiss on the head - watch TV, listen to music, distract yourself. You can't study if you don't take breaks, girl! -smiling at Y/N's bewildered face.

Y/N: You're right, - getting up - I'll make myself something to eat and stay here watching a series or something. I don't have any more brain cells -laughing

Wan: Anthony Edward Stark -appearing out of nowhere- I was looking for you, don't disappear like that!

Tony: And that's my way out -running to the other side.

Wan: Oh boy, you're in trouble...

Y/N: What's wrong? -laughing out loud seeing Wanda chaising Tony-

Wan: He left me alone training a bunch of new recruits and it was a disaster -better said "he left me alone picking out some lights so I don't know where they're going to go".

Tony: It's not my fault! -leaving the room

Wan: Y/N/N, see you later, remember to take breaks while studying, hydrate and eat -leaving the room- STARK!!!!!!

Y/N/N: oh these two....-shaking his head

Y/N listened to her adoptive father and took a break. His head was elsewhere and he couldn't concentrate.

To distract himself, he picked up one of his favourite books: "Before the coffee gets cold". Bucky had given it to him for his birthday. Every chance he got, he read it over and over again, never tiring of it.

Y/N: a chapter won't hurt - settling into the armchair and leaving his cup of tea on the coffee table.

_________________________________________

Sam: Buck - making the dark-haired man look at him - listen, Stark's going to end up dead but not because of your girl.

Bucky: What do you mean, what do you mean...?

Tony: MAXIMOFF ENOUGH! - running in and hiding behind Steve

Wan: Oh no, Rogers isn't going to save you.

Tony: HELP!

Steve: You're on your own Stark - moving to the side - I wouldn't mess with her.

Sam: help him? - seeing how terrified he was

Bucky: no, let's let him...

Sam: If you want him to help, you're gonna have to do something about it.

Buck: Fuck - closing his eyes and taking a deep breath - Wanda, leave him alone. He's already here.

Wan: But Barnes!

Bucky: Wan, he must have a very good reason for him to be gone - tired - don't you Stark?

Tony: Indeed ....

Wan: when I arrived I found him talking to Y/N - crossing his arms - you went to him for coffee?

Tony: - tired of the interrogation - she said she blew it with Barnes!

Everyone stopped doing their homework and stared at Ironman.

Bucky: What? - confused - why does she think she's to blame for any of this?

Tony: after everything she said to you she thinks your friendship is ruined - staring at him - that girl is fucking in love with you Barnes! - reaffirming it - I regret stopping you from asking her out, seeing her like that tears me apart!

None of the people present, not even James, could bring themselves to speak or say a single word. No one had ever, ever, seen Anthony Edward Stark like this, let alone admit such things out loud.

Tony: Barnes - looking at a giddy winter soldier - Barnes....

Bucky: how is it going to be her fault.... This... - not having the right words - I'm not mad at her, I'm not even.... She didn't do anything wrong!

Bruce: listen, we don't have time to overthink things. You guys want to make Y/N happy?

Tony&Bucky: yeah

Bruce: use that to your advantage and let's get back to work. This coffee shop isn't going to build itself - smiling - let's go!

That was all the push they needed. They each returned to their tasks and in less time than they thought, they were almost halfway through their tasks for the day.

Steve: - exhausted - we're done for the day - wiping his hands on his already grimy trousers - I need a shower - laughing.

Bucky: you're not the only one - smiling - tomorrow we'll start the painting - looking around - all right, get some rest! We'll continue later

Steve: - walking beside him once they had said goodbye to everyone - Buck, what's the matter you're so pensive about?

Bucky: Nothing - shaking his head - I thought of something but it's stupid and I don't think it will work.

Steve: What are you going to do? - intrigued - and I don't think it's stupid.

Bucky: Sing to the girl I love, don't you think it's stupid?

Steve: - slamming on the brakes - would you really do that? Steve: Wow...

Bucky: yeah, I know, it's ....

Nat: - behind them - you know Sam's betting you won't do it, don't you?

The two supersoldiers watched as the redhead walked away, leaving Bucky's head still working amidst his exhaustion.

Steve: Pal... Tell me you'll do it.

Bucky: I'm counting on it - taking off again-

_________________________________________

The days went by with repairs, painting, pictures (yes, Wanda thought it would be a great idea to take pictures of each avenger having coffee, Peter being the photographer of course), decoration, couches, chairs, tables... Everything you can imagine.

Tony and Bruce helped Y/N prepare for her exam to make it the best day of her life. She passes the exam, goes to the fair and, when she least expects it, they are going to give her the surprise of her life.

Tony: Enough Miss - seeing that Y/N was nodding off - I think it would be too much for today and... - looking at his watch - it's late, too much pathophysiology at the moment.

Y/N: my head was already starting to hurt - yawning and earning a chuckle from the two men present - I should save everything for tomorrow and go to sleep.

Bruce: I'll help you - getting up next to her - is your exam early?

Y/N: 8am to 10am - taking off his glasses - it's 60% of our grade.

Tony: you'll do fine princess - Bruce could see the gears in Tony's head turning -

Bruce: - before his dear mate could say anything - is there anything else missing?

Y/N: no - checking - nothing is missing.

Bruce: in that case, best of luck tomorrow - smiling and hugging the girl - you'll pass that test

Y/N: thank you guys for helping me - happy - see you tomorrow

Bruce&Tony: see you tomorrow

They both looked at each other and started to follow her. They needed to be more than sure that she wasn't going to leave her room until tomorrow morning.

Tony: - after a few moments - ready, let everyone know that the coffee princess has gone to bed.

Bruce: - pulling out his phone - really? That nickname?

Tony: send that message, emerald - stepping back - we need to finish the finishing touches.

_________________________________________

See you soon with P4!!!!! 🤭🤭🤭

[tiggymalvern]

I understand the sentiment, but I just want to let you know that your VOTE hashtag might be undermining your efforts. I think it’s great to demonstrate what the Biden administration HAS accomplished because it’s not being publicized and it’s helpful information to hear, but ending with a blunt VOTE is dismissive of where people’s anxieties and despair are coming from. Instead of leading with the conclusion you’ve drawn, I just ask you to consider changing the way you’re communicating with your audience so that they can get there with you. A lot of people who are saying “VOTE” are using it to ignore genuine critiques and while I think voting for Biden is still the best option, I think there are better ways to help people get to that understanding.

The VOTE hashtag on my posts means exactly that. Everything that I think about who people should vote for and why has been eloquently explained by the OP and in the additions. People are either going to read it and engage with it or they aren't, and one tag that I put on the bottom probably isn't going to change it.

The VOTE hashtag reflects my belief. I literally think everyone who is allowed to vote should turn up and vote. Even if, for whatever reason of your own, you feel you need to vote Republican or Alternative für Deutschland or National Rally, or whoever your local neo-fascists happen to be.

Throughout history, people have had to battle for the right to choose their government. There were monarchies or emperors, and nobody got to choose. Then in many countries only landowners were eligible to vote, and the people who worked the land were excluded. Then in various countries, all white men were allowed to vote, and women and people of colour might have all had to fight in their turn to get their right to vote.

Whatever category of human you are, some people somewhere marched and/or were arrested, jailed or killed so that YOU could have the chance to vote. My grandmother was nearly 30 when women in England were allowed to vote on the same terms as men. This is not ancient history. This is less than a hundred years ago. If you are eligible to vote, DO NOT waste it. Do not blithely toss aside the right that your grandparents risked everything for.

I have voted in every single election that I was eligible to vote in. There was one year when I was around 20 when the candidates for the three main parties in my local elections were all so awful that I couldn't vote for any of them. It was for the regional council, so there were no larger ramifications in the national voting block of the government. So I turned up and voted for the Monster Raving Loony Party as a protest vote. Doing that made it clear that I wasn't staying at home through apathy - not voting for any of the main candidates was an active choice, and it registered my vote as a rejection of all of them.

I have voted for the candidates I truly believe in. I have voted tactically, simply to make sure that the worst candidate didn't get chosen. But I have always, always voted, when I could. And I believe that everybody should, even if I also believe you're a misguided idiot in where you place your X.

I'm not allowed to vote in the US, where I currently live, because I'm not a US citizen. I also live in a blue state where I can guarantee that Dems will get elected without my vote, so I don't fret too much about being excluded. But I am excluded.

I believe that everybody should validate their ancestors' struggles and do their civic duty and show up at the polls if they're allowed. I also believe that you should educate yourself on the issues and the reasons before you do. So I reblog the posts about the issues and the reasons that I believe, in the hope that those candidates will be elected. But my tag VOTE isn't just to try and get Dems to turn out (although everyone knows that Dems win when turnout is high, because low turnout means fewer Dems, not so much fewer Republicans).

VOTE. Seriously. Everyone. Even, especially, if you live in a red state where arseholes in power are deliberately making it hard for you to vote. If Republicans ban you from mailing in your vote and make you stand in line for three hours at a polling station, that's all the more reason to do it - it's the same battle that has been fought before, and you damn well insist on your right to vote. It's inconvenient and miserable, but you're not being arrested or murdered for wanting to vote, the way other people before you have been.

Your rights have been hard won. Understand that, respect it, and vote.

[shivunin]

happy Sunday! 💖

Philautia 3 & Ludus 3 for Maria / Philia 5 for Arianwen / Eros 5 for Emmaera

Happy Sunday to you as well! 💗

(Some discussion of sex below the break and in the tags)

(7 Forms of Love Asks)

Philautia 3: Does your OC judge themselves by the same standards as they apply to others? Or are they sometimes hypocritical in condemning others for faults they also possess? Or perhaps they find it easier to forgive others for things that they cannot abide in themselves?

Maria is harder on herself than she is on anyone else. I think her standards for others vary based on the other person's situation---she has a very low opinion of the rich, for example, because they do so little to give back---but in general, she holds herself to a high standard. When she fails, she internalizes it and struggles to let it go. That isn't something she would show outwardly, though; she laughs a lot off and dwells on it in private. Only the people who know her best have any idea how personally she takes failure.

Ludus 3: How does your OC feel about one night stands? Have they ever enjoyed a night of passionate romance with a stranger? Is this something they are quite keen on recreationally? Or only something they might engage in under specific circumstances (such as the eve of a battle or after a difficult breakup)?

Ooof. Yeah.

Definitely not something she ever thought about before Fenris. Maria found people attractive before him, and flirted and dated (a little), but Fenris was the first person she actually wanted to have sex with. If she'd thought for a second that it would be a one-night thing, she would have told him to go home. After that night, she really, really struggled to find a balance between wanting him to stay around (and remain her friend) and trying to put her feelings for him aside.

(I think from his perspective...the only thing she could think to do was not touch or look at or be near him at all. Given how affectionate she is to all of her friends otherwise, the contrast was as stark as it was painful...but this question isn't about Fenris)

The most logical solution she could come up for to solve this problem was dilution. Maybe she couldn't forget that night because it was the first time. Therefore, she would just drown out the memories with a lot of other experiences and then, obviously, all of those confusing feelings would go away and she could have her friend back and everything would be just like it used to be.

So Maria spent a few weeks of focused experimentation at the Rose trying every sex act that sounded even remotely interesting. It was nice enough, interesting from an experiential perspective, but the sex never felt like what she'd had with Fenris. There was no emotional connection, and without that the whole experience remained somewhat academic.

She was working up to one-night stands when Leandra died, and after that it all seemed a bit pointless. Fenris was so present for her, especially after the fight with the Arishok, that she finally conceded that she was just going to have to live with being in unrequited love with him forever. At that point, I don't think she ever seriously considered casual sex again--though she did have suitors in the gap between acts 2 and 3.

Philia 5: What is their most fervent wish for their best friend(s)? How far would they go to make it happen?

Safety and happiness. Wen would even refrain from killing to make this happen c:

Joking aside, Alistair is her dearest friend. By the end of the Blight, he's family to her. I think her deepest wish for him is that he eventually can have a life that he chooses for herself. She is well aware that she's the reason this couldn't happen, but she didn't see any other choice at the time. She would gladly and easily assassinate the nobility to make his life earlier, but more importantly she would let them live for his peace of mind. She remains his closest confidante even at a distance even though it's really hard for her to act in that capacity. When he calls her to Denerim to act as an advisor for important meetings, she neither complains nor climbs out a window.

(Morrigan, who is her next closest friend...Wen is willing to let Morrigan go if it really makes her happy. At the end of Witch Hunt, it breaks her heart a little bit to say goodbye for good. I like to think they connected again later, after Morrigan came back to the material world with Kieran.)

Eros 5: How closely is their opinion of their own beauty (or lack thereof) linked to their confidence? Do they see themselves as more or less worthy of love or sex based on how attractive they feel?

I don't think Emma is especially preoccupied with her appearance in general. If she were to think about it, she would suppose she looks pretty enough, but then she'd move on to something more interesting. Her confidence is linked very strongly to her mind; her body is a secondary consideration most of the time. She does try to present a particular image, especially given her role as the Inquisitor, but I don't think her idea of self-worth is tied to her physical appearance at all.

But then, she is my absentminded professor OC and forgets she even has a body half the time when she's comfortable. The hardest times in her life are times where she is forced to feel herself intensely for long periods of time: after she is stabbed, when she loses her arm, the rough period in Kirkwall when she's going into Darktown several times a week and having to heal constantly.

[kingofbodyrolls]

Better late than never, right? 💕 (joke aside, you really didn’t have to respond but I adore you so much for taking the time to respond and I don’t care that it took some time 💜 also ØÆDFLDLJÅØÆ for the energy you matched it with was amazing, so here some more good energy back ✨)

This made me laugh in the absolute best way. 10/10 way to start a review, so ASKØÆÅVFÆÅFØLDB right back!! 😂😂

Maybe I should start all my reviews by screaming in Danish 🤣 I’m glad you liked it, and that it gave you a laugh 🥰

Lissa I'm finally able to respond to this with matching energy so SAME TO YOU MY GOOD DUDE(gn). You absolutely spoil me with your love and I dont deserve it 😭😭♥♥♥

First off, I love the energy you’re matching me with, and— OF COURSE YOU DESERVE IT!!! I will yell about you and this fic from the top of a hill until you hear me 💜

SOBBING CRYING. I literally am so so happy you enjoyed it. It was my first time really going in on like. Lore and fantasy and smut so the fact that it hit so hard for you just makes my heart freaking soar dude.

Soar. Fly. Fly high into the clouds, because this was seriously one of the best fics EVER for me. I read a lot, but I can easily put this in my top 10, or even top 5 ✨ And I fucking LOVE lore and fantasy! All the recognition you’ve gotten for it is so deserved 💎

Re-revisit???? SPOILED!! I AM SPOILED!!!

I am going to spoil you ROTTEN 😝💜

I whole heartedly that Mr. Min as Mr. Underworld wholly just does something for me. IDKWTH that says about meeeeeee. But I see you. I see you. OC makes my heart happy because she (unknowingly to me at the time of writing) stole all my gryffindor like traits and then turned them up to 11, and I love her for that. I love how brave and unbothered she is by everything. I just. Adore her. I debated for all of 4 seconds on which member I wanted to make OC's bartender coworker bestie and Tae just fit because he's sooooo the type 😂😂. I thought for 2 seconds to make him Jimin but then I figured Jimin would suit a Banshee better and forevermore Tae was decided to push OC's buttons in the ways she needed. I do have theories in my mind for more of this universe with the other members, and hell even if i wanted to, with other groups even. But I know what the other members are in the universe, and I have a rough (very VERY rough) couple of ideas what could happen for each. Who, knows, I've gotten so much love from this oneshot that series is starting to sound much nicer. And I gotchu! I know a lot of folks take praise as demand but you dont gotta worry about that with me. As someone who was and remains a reader before a writer, I getcha. I do.

OMG reader was totally displaying peak gryffindor behavior!!! I adore her so much for that too! Omg I could also have pictured Jimin as her bartender coworker, but I’m glad you decided with Tae because he certainly pushes her buttons— and Jimin makes a perfect Banshee! OMG, OMG, if you ever do write more to this universe with any of the other members, please do tag me! 🥹💜

God this is consistently relieving to hear. I can't read it myself anymore without cringing but my mum has read the story so maybe thats why. I did put a lot thought into word choice and actions and such, but trying to ~write~ and trying to make it hot at the same time is such a talent and so for my first time really trying to write it I think I did okay. My point being, every time someone as lovely and kind as yourself tells me this it's such a nice relief to know it's only cringey to me (because ~i~ wrote it) and the experience is different for people who didn't have to sit there and think "should I use cock or dick here??? Is folds okay still or is it starting to become cringe as hell??? Shit why are there only like 3 acceptable words for clit!!??" 😂😂😂

Okay, okay, first— YOUR MOM READ IT??? How was that experience? 🤭 And I totally get you, as a writer I cringe at my own smut scenes, which is why I like to praise writers for it, because I know sometimes we’re just insecure or feeling “is this even good?”, so when I feel like it’s good and/or amazing, I’ll comment on it!! It’s just cringy to you, don’t worry!

And lol, my mom has never read any of my stories, but my husband has 😂 It is a very fun bonding experience 😂 And YES! The struggles of a writer “I’ve used this word 5 times now” and oh damn, sometimes when I edit, if i’ve just written cock, I’ll write dick next, and then reserve it next 😂

*cries while looking up from my bowing position at your feet* T-thank youuuuuu😭😭😭♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

You deserve it!!!!! 💜 And you’re welcome 🫂💜💜💜

Ramble always! I don't know a single writer out there who doesn't love it!!!! And I agree on terms of principle. Yoongi is just.. fucking hot.

That is so true!!! Yoongi is bias wrecking me so hard, every single day 🥵

I've never seen supernatural but I have seen Lucifer XD. Yin and Yang you and me! And now that I've googled crowley, he's a cutie pie!! So I'm good with that!

Hahaha 🤭 He is!!! And he’s super funny (most of Supernatural is just crack, truly). Maybe I should give Lucifer a chance— I saw some when my husband watched it! (but I know I’m not going to lol, I have way too much on my plate)

I really loved this gloriously kind and loving review. Folks like you are the reason fandom persists, thank you for your efforts ♥♥♥

No— thank you! But also thank you for acknowledging my efforts and then also taking them time to respond to me with the same energy 🥹 That really means a lot to me, and not many writers do that anymore 🥲 (and you're welcome (I'm bad with compliments))

*continues sobbing a puddle the size of the pacific* Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you. For the review, the patience you give and for your existence <3

Thank YOU; for responding to my review, for writing the story in the first place, for keeping your promise (🥹) and for your existence 💜

I wish you all the best and loads of good energy to you ✨

*flying high into the sky with a lot of love*

The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 

Intimate. That would be a better choice. 

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty. 

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing. 

You just lost all your tips for the night. 

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 

Fuck. 

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it. 

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 

No one serves him but you. 

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath. 

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased. 

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 

No one calls the Devil by his first name. 

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 

No one except you. 

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 

The King of Hell. 

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him. 

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 

And maybe he is. 

But not to you. 

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 

Yoongi. 

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 

And he looks like sin incarnate. 

Fitting. 

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you. 

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”  

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate. 

“Yes.” 

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 

Beautiful. 

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait— 

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 

You’ve decided. 

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 

And apparently neither does Yoongi. 

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 

You trust Yoongi. 

“That's a good girl.” 

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?” 

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 

You’re the most powerful person here. 

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you. 

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 

Perfect in every single way. 

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 

Not yet. 

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 

Ever.  

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 

There was only you. 

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming. 

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 

It’s yours. 

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?” 

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.” 

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 

You just know it. 

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 

You never expected anything like that. 

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 

Because of you.  

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that. 

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 

He was yours now. 

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

[serendipitous-magic]

What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?

If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.

-_-_-_-

1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.

_-_

2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.

Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.

_-_

3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.

However, here are the rules you must follow:

-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.

-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.

-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)

-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.

... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.

That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...

_-_

4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.

_-_

5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.

Here’s how I cheat that:

Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.

Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.

Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.

Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.

And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.

You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...

_-_

6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.

“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”

You won’t.

Write it down.

Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.

And then, once you have it written down somewhere...

_-_

7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.

Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.

Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.

(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)

_-_

8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.

_-_

9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.

But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.

Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”

Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.

Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”

This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.

If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.

_-_

10) You don’t have to write in order.

Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.

But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.

Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.

_-_

11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.

If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.

If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.

When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.

This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery. 

_-_

12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.

Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.

Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.

Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.

Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.

They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.

Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.

Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.

_-_

13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.

_-_

14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.

_-_

15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.

_-_

16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.

I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”

And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.

Here are the things you must know about your character:

a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?

And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.

b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?

Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story. 

It also informs character behavior and personality. 

Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.

Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.

These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.

Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.

In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.

Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.

Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.

-_-_-

I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.

Best of luck!

Edit: I forgot an important one:

17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.

What do I mean by that?

If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”

Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.

Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.

[daughter-of-lethe]

Thanks you for explaining your point of view.

However in order to make a good critical thought, the reader should keep an open mind and her/his/they/whoever I didn't include/ opinion, feelings about it aside, judging only the facts, contextualized and not taken as a cause-effect or judged in hindsight without expanding knowledge. The more the analyst is rational and objective the more valuable (and resistant) the results will be.

Opinions, feelings etc will lead the analyst to a failure.

Provided that, action and treatment can be interpreted in many way, what if the author wanted to highlight something that you interpret differently? The thing is that the author is not wrong or hating somebody or a culture (I'm not talking abt SJM, or somebody in particular) for writing that in that way, maybe he/she didn't think about that aspect, didn't even think that could be read in that way. This doesn't necessarly mean that you're wrong or right. You're not the supreme judge of a book in which you were not involved, above all it was not created for you, nor to please you.

Your point of view about art it's so strict and, my opinion, very schematic. I am an artist and art is part of my job, but before it's part of my soul.

I'm a forensic anthropologist (still in training, but I have my experience) part of my job consist in drawing a face from an unknown person's skull, in order to help families to recognise the person, maybe even finding some peace in knowing what happened.

I follow the rules strictly, but I have never allow some external factor to affect me in this! What I do has just one purpose, I do not hide messages in it, neither let opinions affect me, if I do, I'll ruin everything, therefore I won't tolerate what you said about art.

Some authors are wonderful in writing what they hate passing it off for what they love most, the author's style can say a lot about her/him, or nothing, however it's not a impregnable proof. Considering that there are other people who collaborate in the creation of a book.

So you can't be sure of "knowing her from her writing style", you do not know her as a person, so sure that your vision of her corresponds to reality?

Have you ever talked to her? Do you know SJM as a person or just as a writer? Did you let the information about her affect your vison of her? Do you remember that she is human?

In science we'll say this is cognitive bias that makes you delete every single thing that could contradict your reasoning, leading you to believe that your vision is the only one and the only right. (Don't take this as an offense, we are all subject to this bias and they happen more often and we do not even realize this).

The fact that you "can't read her books in good faith..." it's again your personal opinion and not some absolute truth, moreover if you read her books like that your "critical thinking" is already tainted by your not good faith and all the things that you know about her altered your prospective, therefore your critical thinking is compromised. (Another proof are the apologies you want from her, are they born from your point of view about her? There is only one way of reading it? Why she should submit to your absolute truth?)

I see "come and heal safe place" as an excuse to keep talking bad about this, this is poisonous for soul more than the book and the author herself, but if someone feel like it's helping them move to a better place, it's ok. (I guess? Even if you're stuck there)

And I am not sorry to tell you that you can put your time, skills and passion into something constructive and seriously healing for your soul, instead of just wallowing in "Feyre ruined reading for me for moths". We must face what makes us feel bad or we’ll never get out, and I'm afraid to tell you that facing it it's not comfortable or simple, but once you get out, it will be.

However assumptions are erroneous by definition so you can't be sure that I'm pro sjm based only on my content or the tags I use...

Side note: the only one who can know the book like the back of their hand is the one who actually wrote it, the editor and all the ones involved in its creation. Not the audience.

However usually the pros do not need to bend the facts, since they like canon or they agree with what is written in order to fit their claim into the books. Why would they? I like Nesta, I agree with how she pictures her, changing something about her story would be to invalidate my own ideas. Just an example.

I see antis coming up with facts and words that weren't originally written, neither "between the lines"

That's all for me, no animosity intended, no hard feelings, just my explanation.

Another day...

Another day where I pray that some people on ACOTAR fandom (yeah you, I see you antis, I see you) get the ability to read, read with their eyes open, don't bend the events to fit their "opinions" and understand the fundamentals of this amazing series. (I see you hating Nesta, and oh, there you are saying Cassian is an abuser, don't think I didn't notice you, my darling, Rhysand's haters... I see all of you)

Additional: maybe stop hating fictional characters?

Yk, there's already so much hate in this world...

[twstedtales]

𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑, 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋.

❝hold your ground; stand up for yourself with grit and grace.❞ - Unknown.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | when he heard you broke from your timid and soft-spoken self just so you could defend him.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, kalim al asim, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia × female reader.

𝐭𝐰 | none!

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | of course, <3 anon chan 😘 nice to meet you and have a good day too 😆 by the way, freaking gosh, this becomes soooo long 2,241 words if you wanna know bdjejwjeeh 😭😂💦 HELP-

𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 | reposting and queued this in time for my classes because i am determined to put it in tags lfmaooo and I also added few more because I noticed some of Leona’s part was missing and typographical errors are fixed shsbjd

Riddle was always grateful that you were a lot tamer than your chaotic friends that give him constant headaches. He also appreciates your quiet and soft nature because it helps him calm down a lot during his near outbursts when he was about to behead some of his rebellious dorm mates.

So, one random day, Riddle overheard you talking to some students; he presumed they were your classmates? He trusts you a lot, and was about to leave because he didn't want to disrespect your conversation when he heard his name, including the loud series of continuous insults directed to him, repeatedly calling him a ruthless tyrant and such, that had made his elegant brows raise to his hairline. 

A lady such as yourself shouldn't be hearing such crass words from those uneducated fools. His eyes twitched in seething anger, a vein bulging in his forehead and he was about to step in to teach them a lesson they won't forget when Riddle had heard your voice snapping.

It took him by surprise when he heard your usual soft and timid tone raise an octave, your loud yells reverberated greatly across the empty halls. Riddle felt some sort of pleasant shock; he couldn't imagine you, who was usually soft-spoken, to defend him like that. Though that aside, immediate pride and affection swells inside him. 

Riddle always believes that as a gentleman, he should be the one to protect you from fools, or defend you against malicious people like that. But he supposed the position getting reversed once in a while feels...good as well. Now, if you'll excuse him, he still needs to, ah, re-educate those imbeciles, a lesson they won't ever forget.

Leona doesn't care that you're timid most of the time, in fact, it even brought a slight relief to him because firstly, he won't have you loudly reprimanding and nagging him if he doesn't attend classes like Ruggie does, disturbing his naps. And secondly, he secretly finds you a great wonder, knowing that most women in Afterglow Savana were all "warriors" and they intimidate him. 

Though for your own sake, Leona would drop casual hints about arming yourself in an argument here and there for you to catch. He favoured your soft-spoken persona, yes, but that doesn’t mean he would go around letting you be in danger just because of it.

And just when he thought that you were tamed and a well-behaved little lamb, Leona was slightly bewildered to hear your loud shouts that knocked him out of his sleep. He almost thought that you were in danger and would instantly leap in to tear off the person who dared to attack you limb by limb if not for the obvious anger lacing your voice.

Hou? Leona listens curiously in patient silence as you apparently "defend" his reputation. It would be a lie to say that he didn't care what others say about him, but at this point, he had completely given up on how others perceived him, all their opinions be damned. But he had to admit, you saying that he was more than just being an "indolent bastard" makes his heart do a quick lithe leap. Just a little bit.

However, of course, he can't let you hog in all the fun to yourself. If those fools were brave enough to lash out and dish out their problems about him to you, they must be prepared to face the consequences of his payback. Though perhaps he must thank them as well? For encouraging and pushing his timid herbivore to stand up and hold her ground to what she believes to be most important? Heh.

Azul thought that your soft and timid self is quite a refreshing sight; you're like a breath of fresh air for him. Being surrounded by the chaotic twins all the time drains his energy, no matter how efficient they seem to be for business. So, having you around calms him down, and your soft voice was like enticing him to sleep and relax.

That's why when he heard a loud scream outside of the VIP room, Azul had seriously doubted his ears, blinking his eyes in mild shock and refusing to believe that person who had just raised their voice was you. You, his precious angelfish who spoke so softly and tenderly to him all the time, just shouted? 

Azul snapped out of his trance when he had heard your voice again, this time, it was even louder, and he could clearly hear just what makes you this furious. He quietly left the sanctuary of his office just as the argument kept on getting clearer. He had heard his name, how the students called him a "scammer", "manipulator", "evil schemer", "stupid octopus" and such. 

Under normal circumstances, Azul wouldn't feel any remorse when he had tricked them into a contract for servitude as a small payment for what they boastfully spout about him. He was ready to make them pay a hundred folds...if not for you defending him wholeheartedly. You were readily refuting every falseーor were they really false?ーclaims about him; a bit more menacing, a little more proud, and very much seething in anger. 

Adoration bloomed inside him as he almost felt tears start to prickle in the corner of his eyes. He never had someone who would defend him, who would boast how "hardworking" he was, or be angry...just for him. Azul had to steel his knees from buckling over, blinking back his tears and parading his usual, haughty smile. As much as he wants to rejoice and melt for your brave words, he first needs to get you out of there. He can't have his precious angelfish deal with those pests all by yourself, no?

Kalim was understanding, empathetic enough to know not to push you beyond the limits you could give. He was content to see you interacting and hanging out with him, no matter how quiet and timid you may be! Fret not, it doesn't matter one bit if he's the only one speaking and getting the conversation going, as long as he knew you were there and listening to him, that's all that matters to him.

Though seriously speaking, does anyone even have the heart to say malicious things about this sunshine? Though let's admit it, not all people would see Kalim's open generosity in a positive light and some people would even find it rather irritating (ーlike Jamilー). So, things like "bad-mouthing" him does happen, maybe not as much in NRC but he does hear them back in Scalding Sands.

Due to his position of being the heir to a big clan, Kalim was very much exposed to the harsh criticism and perhaps hatred and envy of others, though he does his very best to ignore them, and understand where they are coming from because he knows that not all are as privileged as him. So hearing people say bad things about him in the NRC is nothing new as well. 

What was something new though...is you raising your voice that made him jump, his heart almost made a quick leap out of his throat. Especially when you declared that he was the kindest, the most understanding and the best person you ever met in your life. Kalim didn't even hear the insults because he was more focused on drilling the image of you, looking so gallant like a honourable warrior defending him. 

Before it escalates into something serious though, Kalim would jump in the conversation and sway the topic into a more light-hearted one. You would notice his smile looked a lot brighter than normal, and that his cheerfulness is so contagious that you forgot the person who badmouthed him as Kalim dragged you to somewhere he could spoil you rotten.

Vil doesn't usually mind your timid self; he finds himself surprisingly adoring it at times. Especially after those stressful and chaotic days that all he needs is to have a peaceful respite that he had found in you. Though there were times that he would...ah, help you to become more open and confident when talking to people. Unlike Leona who would just drop hints, Vil was determined to teach you how to arm yourself with words, if not magic or any other weapon. 

Hence why Vil was very much accustomed to harsh criticism and dare say, downright hate. He was an actor and a model after all. He had long prepared himself to accept those healthy criticisms, and block off all the malicious comments thrown at him. So, hearing his own schoolmates lash out their hate against him is nothing to waste his time about. After all, they weren't even brave enough to say that to his own face. 

Even so, what took him in a pleasant astonishment is when he heard your voice, loud and clear and confident, rebutting their foolish claims about him. He didn't even pay enough attention when those potatoes blatantly compared him to Neigeーwhich was, by the way, will be dealt with laterーbecause all he could hear was your voice.

Vil huffed in amusement; you had incorporated everything he had taught you today and he could say that he was pleased with your development. As much as he wanted to see how far you could go and how good it was that you were defending him, Vil cannot allow you to linger longer around those fools who don't know basic etiquette more than necessary. 

Brimming with confidence as he was, Vil swept between smoothly, the long and loose sleeves of his dorm uniform flaunting behind me like a perfect picturesque as he hide you behind his back. He looked down coldly at those potatoes, ignoring your surprise yelp. Now, Vil can't let the improper things they say pass without a proper punishment, no?

Like everyone does, Idia doesn't care if you're timid or soft spoken either. To be honest, it was even encouraged by him. He could get around everything between you two without speaking, especially since he wasn't used to being around people a lot. After all, your quiet voice when you're talking to him doesn't feel like any otherーit was more relaxing, more soothing…

That's why when he heard you shouting so loudly and angrily one day, Idia fell on his chair in shock. He was surveying the surroundings from the CCTVs around the school for possible routes he could take when he went out to buy snacks for the weekend when he caught sight of you in the hallway with some unfamiliar students. It doesn't look like a one-sided argument, but you were definitely more pissed off than the others.

The longer he listens, the more Idia wants to wither awayーfrom embarrassment, or from self-resentment or from pure adoration, he cannot pinpoint exactly what! You...you were defending him! Him! You were seethingly refuting every claim he heard directed to him. Every single negative thing they pointed out that he himself knew of all people possessed, said it was nothing but baseless untruths. 

How could you say that he was not useless when all he could do now was to watch you from afar as you fight for his reputation? How could you still believe he was not a coward after all those things that people said about him and his failures? How could you still love him after all the things you were hearing right now? 

Idia clenched his fists that his nails dug in his palms. He...wants to be like you as well. He wanted to be the man you could depend on, the one who could defend you like those in his otome games he played. If one day...if only he could build up the courage to be...anyway, for now, Idia mysteriously alerted some of the professors that someone was bullying you. He couldn't be there personally, with how he is right now, but he would make sure to protect you in the way that he himself could surely do this time...

The one who insults and badmouth The Malleus Draconia himself was probably tired of living, having a death wish or something. Almost everyone was scared of facing him, but alas, there surely exists those who are...brave enoughーor was it simply foolishness?ーto insult him in the presence of his own beloved. 

Malleus probably didn't hear your "heroic acts" personally, but due to Sebek's garrulous mouthーand he can't simply keep this a secret to his Waka-sama!ーhe was informed how you defend him in front of many people. 

He would ask every detail, how it started and how it escalated to how it ended. Sebek wouldn't leave a single detail, though he supposed he could make you a little more "gallant and chivalrous" to his Young Master because you were the first one to stand up for him, and you are his lover, not his guard!

After hearing the full details from the extremely proud Sebekーand how he had already taught the impudent students a lesson for insulting himーMalleus had found himself teleporting next to you, that made you jump because it was so sudden. And he would hug you so suddenly and wordlessly. When you ask him why, he would just reply that he feels like you had done something so incredible for him that he wants to repay and spoil you in any way you desire.

Malleus does mind the insults, but he was more focused on you and how you stand up and hold your ground despite your soft-spoken self. He wished he could've seen you break out from your shell once again, but he won't force you to it. After all, there's plenty of time to rectify that and he would wait patiently on the day you showed all your sides to him.

[jadegreenimmortality]

Bungou Stray Dogs Men as Househusbands pt.1 - Sakunosuke Oda

A/N: I’m sorry that this isn‘t a request, but this brain rot has been going on since forever and now I can’t resist it anymore. I totally blame @hanazou for this. There will also be a part two featuring Chuuya, but his part has a completely different feeling to it, that's why I'll post these separately. Besides of that, this is basically an “Way of the Househusband!AU”. Go watch the show or read the manga if you don’t know it, it’s absolutely hilarious! This is mainly focused on them as househusbands, but since you are their spouse, there’s also a bit of reader insert. Also, a lot of Oda as a dad to his orphans. And the whole thing is feat. Dazai. (^^)

Pairings: Oda x gn!reader

Genre: Crack, domestic fluff

Warnings: none

Summary: You, Oda and the orphans move in together. While you become the working spouse, your loving husband stays at home and becomes a full-time househusband.

pt. 2

First things first - If you agree to marrying Sakunosuke Oda, you are also agreeing to become the parent of five children. Oda loves you and you are one of two main reasons he’s leaving the Mafia, the other being his life purpose. But if he’s leaving the Mafia, he’s keeping those kids in (if they want him to of course, but you can’t tell me they don’t, come on -)

So yeah, be ready.

He only cooks spicy curry at the beginning. The curry shop owner gave him the exact recipe of his favourite plate as a goodbye gift and that’s the only thing he is cooking for days on end. He has some basic cooking skills, but this is the only really elaborated dish he knows how to prepare as of now, so be ready to suffer from the spice. It will go on like that until all six of you you and the kids hold an intervention for him. The kids will paint nice banners like they were going to a demonstration saying "No more curry" that they hang up in the living room and he’ll be greeted by your sorrowful face when he comes back from buying groceries.

“What’s this?” – “Oh honey, I’m so sorry, its just…” – “WE CAN’T TAKE THE SPICE ANYMORE STOP COOKING CURRY ALREADY!” – “…I mean…yeah.”

Of course, he’ll be a bit embarrassed and disappointed. May scratch his neck and look to the side thoughtfully. But he’ll take your plead seriously.

This is also how you bond with the kids for the first time. Congratulations, huddling up against someone is always the best way to bond!

He works hard on his cooking skills after that and becomes quite the formidable cook. He takes suggestions from you and the kids and will try to learn how to cook anything you might fancy to eat. It’s really important to him that all of you are happy and cooking may be the most important job of a house spouse, so he takes it very seriously.

There will be curry Tuesday though. One day of spice hell. Enjoy.

Please picture Oda in his usual attire, wearing a beige “kiss the cook” apron over it and bunny slippers. You’re welcome.

He'll learn how to make anime and cartoon-themed bentos for the kids, so it's highly probable you'll get cutely designed bentos as well. Again, you may drop suggestions, he’ll absolutely take them into considerations. Octopus sausages, bunny apple slices, cute bear faces made out of rice, he’ll learn to do them all. He isn’t too sappy of a person, but if he’s feeling romantic while cooking, your rice could also have the shape of a heart. Either way, your co-workers will be very envious of your food and your husband.

Oda iss the master of negotiation at the food market. He’ll be completely stoic all the time, not aggressive or dismissive at all, but he’ll point out little flaws of the products in a way that most shop owner’s won’t be able to deny and that’s how he gets discounts. He doesn’t want to cheat anyone out of their money, but he does have seven mouths to feed.

He may not look like it, but if any of the kids tag along for his grocery shopping, it's really hard for him to deny them something if they beg for it. He may seem unnervingly calm all the time, but he’s a big softie, especially for those kids and for you, and if they hang at his sleeves long enough, they’ll get that ice-cream they want so badly. That doesn’t work on pricier items though, he can be a strict parent when really needed.

Oda is great at handling the finances. He’s well aware that he has to be thrifty with five kids. Still, there is one thing where he struggles to keep his control: books.

If you agree to it, the apartment will have an absolutely minimalistic interior, but! In your living room, there will be a shelf full of books, so big it covers a whole wall. That’s it, that’s Oda’s only weak spot when spending money.

It’s not only books for him though. He buys books for you when he sees something from your favourite author or genre. He buys books for the kids so they learn the joy of literature. Poems, bed time stories he wants them to grow up appreciating the possibilities of the written word.

You can bet that he’ll read them bed time stories. Only one book for all five of them though, so one kid gets to choose a story each day.

He’ll read to you as well if you want him to. His voice is incredibly calm and soothing, he’s a really good reader. There’s a high probability you’ll fall asleep while he reads to you. You can cuddle up in bed and rest your head on his shoulder or sit on his lap and hide your face in the crook of his neck, feeling the vibration of his voice in his chest.

Whenever he has some time to spare, he’ll retire to your shared bedroom to write. Mind you, that won’t happen often. It happens mainly on weekends, when the kids are with friends and/or you are at home. If you want to do him a favour, consider cooking on the weekends, he’ll be more than thankful for the opportunity to submerge in his beloved writing. But don’t worry, it won’t consume him – he’ll always put some time aside to spent with you, without the kids, as well ¬‿¬.

He's so polite with the neighbours. Will pay all his neighbours a short visit together with the kids to introduce himself and bring little gifts. Just imagine him standing there in the door frame, witih all five kids around his legs, smiling at their new neighbours angelically - what's not to love?

He really wants to maintain a good relationship to all of them. Basically, he’s the perfect neighbour – always polite, always up to a little chat, always ready to listen to neighbour A complain over neighbour B without snitching. He’s mainly concerned for the wellbeing the kids though. He wants them to feel part of the community and often arranges play dates with the neighbour kids. If it's possible at the neighbour’s house because five kids are a lot to handle already…and when they are all out of the apartment, it’s cleaning time.

Oda is an angel of patience and the ultimate multitasker. He isn’t left with much of a choice with five kids, but thankfully, calm lies in his nature. You may see him explaining Sakura her math homework while cutting vegetables for today’s lunch. Then, he’ll take a quick glance out of the window to see if they boys are still playing on the street where he can see them and then he’ll check on Sakura again. Isn’t he lovely?

His ability is unexpectedly helpful for all of this. If he’s in the living room to clean, his ability will alarm him if the food’s about to burn. If he’s around the kids, he’ll know in time if one is about to trip. If you come home from work so tired you fall asleep face first in your soup, he’ll be able to catch you. So useful.

He’s a very attentive and loving husband. His love is mainly expressed by keeping the house as clean as he can and putting a lot of effort into cooking. Your work is hard enough, he takes it upon himself to manage everything else. He’ll also try to have the kids well-behaved so they don’t demand too much from you after you come home from work. Though if you decide to pull yourself together and give them attention and love even when tired, he’ll be more than thankful. He knows it’s a lot to ask to be a parent, especially to not one, but FIVE kids that are not yours by blood. So if you actively seek to have a close bond to them, it will make him so incredibly happy because he knows it’s not the natural course of action for everyone.

Will give you head, shoulder and foot massages after an especially excruciating day of work. His hands are skillful and he knows where to touch to make you moan to release the tension from your muscles.

Likes to lie his head in your lap after both of you had a long day of work. Yes, you may be the provider, but keeping a house clean and five kids under control isn’t an easy job either! So, he’ll seek peace laying his head on your thighs and closing his eyes while you tussle his hair and tell him about your day. Don’t expect more than a mumbled “Mm” or “I see” from time to time, but be sure that he’s listening.

And the Port Mafia? You’re in luck - since he was the lowest-ranking member, The Mafia, by which I mean Mori isn’t bothered that he left. He refused to kill anyways, he’s to no use to them him.

Of course, Oda will try to be absolutely sure there is no hidden reason for Mori to hinder his leave beforehand, or to resent him for it. The last thing he wants is to endanger you or the kids by leaving his job as a criminal.

If he ever meets a member of the PM in public, he'll act as if he doesn't know them. He may give them a polite nod if they make eye contact, but that’s about it. It’s not that he resents them, but he really wants to start a new life here that isn’t connected to killing and cruelty at all. If they approach him he'll be very polite, but try to keep the conversation short, even if they seem to have no ulterior motive.

Of course, there’s one member of the Port Mafia that marks the exception, by which I mean to say that you’ll have Osamu Dazai over for tea regularly. No, he won’t announce himself at all. The first time he appears at your apartment, you’re just finishing to unpack. He’ll tand at your doorstep all of a sudden to tell Oda that Mori already knows where he moved to. Oda will just nod as an acknowledgement. He expected as much. And then he’ll give you a questioning look. If you nod, he’ll officially asking his friend to stay for dinner. You’ll be having curry.

From then on, he’ll just drop by whenever. You may come back home from time to time to find dinner ready, the kids in bed and your husband and Dazai drinking. If you join them, you will have some truly joyful evenings spend together. You’re Oda’s chosen one, so Dazai is a bit more inclined to let you get close than he is with others. You may make a new friend in the process.

It doesn’t take a lot of time for the kids to start calling him Uncle Dazai. He’ll actually be Uncle Dazai before they ever call Oda Dad or you Mom/Dad. It will take them mere weeks to call him uncle, but months, maybe years to call the two of you Dad/Mom. It will happen eventually though, and the day it happens, I assure you that you will see Oda spill tears of happiness. He’ll be looking away, wiping his face with one hand and smiling. He never thought he would want this, but now he knows he does.

Back to Dazai! He’s reserved with the kids at first. As we know, he doesn’t feel all to comfortable around “childish behaviour”. But kids are like cats, the feel drawn to the one that’s most cautious. By which I mean to say that they are all over him. Literally. Oda will leave for five minutes and when he’s back at the living room the kids will have tackled a slightly unnerved Dazai on the floor. Sakura wants him to see the drawings she made, Katsumi, Kousuke and Yuu want to play, Shinji wants to ask him what's under his bandages. He’ll have no choice but to oblige and it goes surprisingly well. Oda may abuse him as a baby-sitter when he visits from then on.

Then suddenly, Dazai stops visiting altogether. You are worried, but Oda, for some reason, isn’t. Even more, whenever you ask him about it, you may catch him smiling to himself in a satisfied, proud way. No, Dazai didn’t tell him anything. If Oda would know, it would endanger all of you. But he knows. He knows that Dazai finally made his choice to leave the Port Mafia and needs to lay low now. And that’s okay.

It takes Dazai two years to come back, which will be just as sudden as him leaving. You’ll be astounded to see him a changed man at first sight. Oda will scold him for not sending any notice and then everything is normal again. And after some more years, he’ll start bringing along a scrawny kid with white hair.

A/N: Wow, this is the first post I put a "keep reading" link in because it's so long! That's kind of a milestone for me. ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this! Thank you for reading!

[watchmegetobsessed]

ANOTHER TITLE

a/n: personally i’ve been waiting for this part to come since the beginning lmao, so here is the proposal finally!! it’s like so fluffy, almost disgustingly, but i just couldn’t help myself

pairing: Sebastian Stan X Reader

word count: 1.8k

This fic is part of the LITTLE ONE series, but can be read as a simple oneshot as well! Find the masterpost of the series HERE!

masterlist

(gif is not mine)

You’ve been eating like a hormonal teenage boy these past weeks and you know it needs to stop and held under control, but you just can’t help yourself. It’s like your stomach has become a black hole that needs to absorb any and every food that’s home, you’re constantly snacking beside the large portions you eat three times a day, there’s always something you’re craving, the shopping list on the fridge is changing every hour because you think of something else to eat.

Luckily, you haven’t gained that much weight besides the noticeable bump that’s your baby in your belly, seems like your little girl does need all the food and she uses it instead of letting it all get stuck on other parts of your body, so you’re fine for just now.

Sitting on the couch, watching some kind of soap opera, you’re snacking on an entire jar of Nutella this time, shamelessly stuffing your mouth with the sweet, thick stuff, pretty sure that nothing will be left of it by the end of the day. Sebastian is away again for his second filming that was scheduled even before you found out you were pregnant and he messed around with it a little, shortening it once again and you just visited him last weekend. Now that you are pushing the end of your second trimester, your bump is quite evident, not something you can hide easily, so when you showed up on set with your boyfriend, you didn’t even try to cover it up, knowing well someone would spot it sooner or later. However everyone on the team has been so respectful, keeping the news to themselves, because no headlines have been made about your pregnancy just yet, keeping the secret even longer. To be honest, you’re surprised it hasn’t been discovered sooner, you thoughr someone would catch you out and about and see right through your baggy clothes and sell the news to the tabloids, but now you are in the sixth month and no one knows a thing.

Your phone chimes next to you, a text from Seb and you hum to yourself happily, putting the jar aside to grab the phone and see what he wrote.

“How are my two favorite girls doing? Miss you a lot!”

He even attached a silly selfie of himself in hair and makeup, he looks adorable with the clips in his hair and some kind of patches under his eyes. Like a real beauty guru.

Grabbing the Nutella, you place it on top of your bump as you move the phone to a lower angle and take a selfie that makes your bump look even bigger, the jar on top and you grinning widely at the camera as you snap a picture and send it to him with your reply.

“Enjoying our third snack of the day at 11 am! Miss you too, can’t wait to see you next week!”

He reads the message right away, his reply coming just seconds later.

“Look at that bump! You look gorgeous, baby! Can’t wait to see you too, have fun with your sister today, love you lots Xx”

Since he has left you’ve been trying to keep yourself busy so you don’t miss him too much and you’re also using these weeks to spend as much time with your friends and family as possible, knowing well once the baby arrives you won’t be going out that much for a while, nestled up in your home, learning the ropes of being a mother. Today you are meeting up with your sister, she is taking you out to this alleged new, quite fancy restaurant you haven’t heard about before. She claimed that it’s really exclusive, so you don’t have to worry about being photographed or bothered, but she also told you to glam yourself up for the occasion. It’s gonna be some nice sister time, something you haven’t been able to do in a long time.

You take the assignment seriously, doing your hair and makeup the best you can and you decide to put on a flowy maxi dress with a soft, knitted cardigan, very much going for a kind of cottage core vibe. Leaving just in time you text your sister that you’re on your way, putting the address into the GPS and heading out of town, because the place is near the beach. She texts you back that she’ll meet you there and so your short little road trip begins. Sitting in the car you’re listening to one of the many playlists Sebastian has made for you and the baby, he likes to play them at home, humming the songs under his breath, hoping to start educating your little girl in the field of music as early as possible. You have to admit he has a good taste, so you don’t mind it at all.

As you follow the instructions of the GPS you find the place that’s supposed to be your destination, but it doesn’t seem like a restaurant at all, more like a mansion of some kind, a very expensive looking if you are being honest. There are no other cars, no sign of other people so as you park at the front you call your sister.

“Hey, I’m right outside, but I have a feeling I’m at the wrong place? It doesn’t look like a restaurant.”

“Oh, don’t worry! You’re at the right place! I’m a little late, but I’ll be there soon, just go inside, they are expecting us!” she assures you, but you’re still not convinced.

Ending the call you approach the entrance and for your surprise the heavy doors open before you could even knock or find the bell. A man in a tuxedo appears in front of you, smiling warmly at you.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nod, a little shy and confused.

“Please, follow me,” prompts as you walk inside and the two of you start crossing the grandiose hall of the building.

At this point you are sure it’s not a restaurant, but you have no idea why your sister wanted you to come here. You want to ask the man if you’re even at the right place, but he called you by your name so he was expecting you, this has to be the place where you’re supposed to be. More and more questions pile up in your head as you follow him out to the backyard, a gigantic, flower-filled garden that’s straight out of a fairytale, a path leading down to the beach where there’s a dreamy little pergola with even more flowers and fairy lights and as your eyes fall on the figure standing in the middle of the pergola, you immediately gasp.

Because surrounded with all the flowers and lights, there is Sebastian standing in an elegant suit, smiling widely at you as the man next to you helps you down the stairs before you start walking down the path to him.

Tears are flooding your eyes, because you already know what it is, but you can’t believe it’s really happening. He was so sneaky, he got home from filming earlier and even made your sister play along to surprise you, he is such a romantic soul, no one can change your mind about that!

“You’re not in Atlanta!” you tell him when he is finally close enough to hear you. He chuckles sweetly, taking a few steps forward to meet you sooner, his hands finding your waist as you cup his face in your hands, pulling him down to kiss you right away.

“No, I’m not, baby,” he smirks, his hands sliding to your belly, gently stroking the sides as you wipe your tears away, but there’s no use, because the next moment, he steps back a little, just enough so that he can get down on one knee and you’re crying again when you see him pull out a little velvety box from his pocket.

You were expecting it. You knew he would propose before the baby arrives, but you just didn’t know when and how, but he surely outdone himself with his little surprise.

“My Love, Y/N,” he starts after a deep breath, his hands finding yours and you can feel the shaking, but you’re not sure if it’s coming from yours or his. Probably both. “I’ve spent the best years of my life with you and I haven’t been the same man since the day I met you, but in the best way possible. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and I’m so lucky that you did not only choose to be with me, but you are now carrying our baby under your heart as well, out little one who is equal parts of you and me, though you’re doing ninety percent of the job here,” he adds with a chuckle, making you laugh through your tears. “I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you the moment you were so badass on your first date, kissing me when I didn’t have the balls to do the first step, but I’m glad you did. I fell in love with you right then and there and the same thing has been happening every day, over and over again since then. I know we went a little out of order with everything we had planned,” he smirks, glancing down at your bump before his blue eyes find yours again, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so I have a question for you.”

He pops the lid of the box open, a gorgeous, brilliant diamond ring coming to your vision, sparkling in the warm afternoon Sun so perfectly, it takes your breath away.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” he asks, clearly nervous, even though there’s no doubt about your answer, you’ve told him plenty of times before that you want to marry him, but still, it’s a huge moment in both your lives.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you nod eagerly as you both start laughing in relief, his shaky fingers tagging the ring out of the box and sliding it to your finger gently, before he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the ring.

Then he finally stands up and you basically throw yourself into his arms, kissing him like your life depends on it as he kisses you back with just as much force.

“I love you and I can’t wait to call you my wife,” he sighs pleased against your lips.

“Mm, another title in the line? Girlfriend, baby mama, fiancé and then wife,” you giggle giddily.

“You missed one,” he cocks an eyebrow at you slyly.

“Which one?”

“Love of my life.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[thessalian]

Thess vs Old Fandoms

One of my longer-time friends happened to remember an old fandom I was a part of at one point, and tagged me into a post about merch from that fandom on Facebook. Ironically, he’s one of the few people I check Facebook for, so ... y’know, it’s nice that he remembers my interests from that far back. (I think he post-dates my involvement in that fandom, actually - I seem to recall him being a friend from my forum-and-chat Mage: The Ascension days. So seriously, that’s archaeological level knowledge of my fandoms.)

Thing is ... my reaction to that fandom these days is ... kind of not great. I don’t like to think about it. I mean, I really don’t. I kept some of the friends I met along the way, and am grateful beyond measure for them (particularly a certain bestie who I met out of a Six Degrees of Fandom Friend situation and a breakdown-related road trip of epic proportions). I got practice at storytelling, which gave me confidence (and honestly helped me figure out that while I can write, I am a much better storyteller than I am a writer, and I excel at the “Yes, okay, and then what?” game - hence being perfectly happy to Forever DM). But so much else happened in that fandom that, looking back ... I didn’t hate it, and the piece of media itself was what I needed at the time, but there is no going back to that.

I mean, it doesn’t help that it gives me active flashbacks to the ... I can’t even say ‘despair’, exactly, but absolute desperation for everything to just ... stop. I mean, I was depressed, sure, but at the end of the day, what manifested was me alternating between wanting everything to just shut up, go away, and stop hurting me already ... and finding something, anything to hang onto long enough for that “I want it all to stop” feeling to settle back to a level that wasn’t going to involve self-harm or worse. I made some very poor decisions. I misconstrued an awful lot. There was a great deal going on in my head about who I was supposed to be versus who I actually was (and that latter ... well, I didn’t have the vocabulary for half of it) and nothing was helping me figure any of it out so I vacillated between “Maybe this’ll help” and “Fuck this - stop the world, I want to get off”.

I have clarity on a lot of it now - I mean, it’s been two decades - and honestly, even the good times contained a lot of individuals and situations that were not healthy in any way, shape, or form. Cliques formed and I didn’t necessarily want there to be but once you were considered by a certain section of the fandom to be a Big Name Fan for some reason, trying to get out of it was impossible. I didn’t want that; I just wanted people to enjoy what I was writing. And a lot of people did! Unfortunately, a vocal minority of that “lot of people” felt within their rights to nag me about when the next chapter / episode / whatever of what I was writing was going to come out and I felt beholden to those people. Then there were the ones who just hated the entire concept of my writing and put me on blast repeatedly. So on one hand I’ve got people pressuring me about getting things out NOW NOW NOW on top of the stupid BNF label, and on the other I’ve got rejection sensitivity dysphoria working overtime because of bullying ... and I burned out. I mean, none of that is healthy for anybody, but when you’re already neurodivergent in ways you don’t entirely understand, it’s a mess.

I developed some unhealthy friendships. I can’t blame some of them, or even most of them. At that time, they were mostly in the category of, “I want to help you get better but I don’t even know how to help myself get better so...” Which, again, not anybody’s fault. But that kind of thing kicks off my instinct, borne of a lot of what I have to concede is emotional abuse, to set aside my emotional needs in favour of the needs of others. I am in a place now where I can set boundaries in that regard, which is good because it saves my spoons for cases where I can actually help instead of doing all the emotional labour. I differentiate between friends who are trying and maybe failing to get better, and need a bit of support, and those who simply won’t put in the emotional effort and expect people to deal with them on their emotionally unhealthy terms. At the time, though, both were more of a drain than I realised at the time, so it’s probably no wonder that I felt like everything was falling apart, when so many of my friends were.

Long story short - I am not that angry, confused, miserable person who needed that piece of entertainment media anymore. Now I see it as something that I actively don’t need, just because of some of the mental and emotional states it exemplifies. Don’t get me wrong - I’m still angry, confused, and miserable a lot of the time. However, I am angry, confused, and miserable about actual things now, not about how “no one gets me”. I don’t have to hide behind a cynical attitude and a book. I can and will be my own advocate. I will not exemplify what is effectively apathy, or at best grudging, minimal-effort rebellion. Hell, I didn’t even exemplify that in my fan works at the time. Now? Thank you, but no thank you. I would prefer not to have merchandise that reminds me of a time when I glorified showing as little emotion and genuine engagement in the world as possible, and was fighting a war with my own damn death wish most of the time, and clinging to really unhealthy shit as the only weapons I had available to fight off the “Fuck this; I’m done” urge. I have way, way healthier ways of beating that shit off now, even on the worst of days. More fun, too.

Sometimes we outgrow things. I’m really proud to have outgrown that. And am also very happy that it’s been a few years since the last “Are you ever finishing that series?” email. I mean, it was still long after I left the fandom for good, but I’m grateful to have finally managed obscurity and for my old username to be relegated to the “Whatever Happened To...?” wall.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 314: ...Or You Live Long Enough to See Yourself Become the Villain

Previously on BnHA: Some random assholes were all “let’s throw exploding spears at All Might and see if it activates his Conqueror’s Haki” and SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKERS, IT DID!! Elsewhere, Lady Nagant confusingly tried to capture Deku alive by shooting him in the stomach, but to be fair I guess that’s what happens when you send an assassin to do a bounty hunter’s job, so yeah. Deku was all “ouch”, and then because this is a shounen he basically just straight up forgot about it, and did a big fancy Smokescreen thing, and then activated his mildly incomprehensible new ki-blasting quirk which he got from the Third. En and the Third were all “hey Deku maybe let’s not just impulsively activate all this shit in the heat of battle when you don’t know how to use it yet and you’re already injured,” and Deku was all “thanks for the quirks guys but I’ll take it from here” and snuck up on Nagant and grabbed her arm and so now what’s going to happen I wonder.

Today on BnHA: Nagant is all “[shoots Deku again]” because of course she is lol. Deku is all “tell me about AFO!” and Nagant is all “why would I tell you anything?” and then proceeds to tell him her entire life story which is FILLED WITH SO MUCH MURDER, YOU GUYS. Holy shit. So basically she was an assassin for the HPSC, which we already knew, but somehow it’s one thing to know that, and another to actually see her running around capping dudes in the forehead and being covered in more blood than the elevator from The Shining. Anyway, so you’ll never believe it, but all that murder had a negative impact on her psychologically, and eventually led her to question everything she believed about hero society, and so she killed her creepy boss and was promptly sent to Tartarus. This extremely fun chapter ends with Overhaul showing up all “HI, HELLO, I’M STILL HERE”, because for some reason he is still here. Why are you still here, Overhaul.

“the beautiful Lady Nagant” oh you know your audience don’t you Horikoshi

well all right then! so I’m guessing this means that she is not, in fact, going to roll over and die just because Deku’s out here all “GOT YA!” like they’re playing a game or tag or something. ffff may the manga gods have mercy on our young suicidal protagonist

lmao so Deku is all “GOD I’M SO SMART, WHAT A GOOD STRATEGY I HAD, CAPITOL JOB THERE OL’ CHAP, CAPITOL” and lol, okay. I mean, it was a good plan though. but I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop here

“I’ll make you give me information on All for One” well there you go, lol. Deku Angst arc still fully engaged. still no light in his eyes either of course. just a lil chaotic ball of sleep deprivation and rage

lol, fucking THANK YOU though

oh my god what the hell did she do to him lol

did she shoot him with her elbow??? fucking look at this?? THIS IS WHY WE LISTEN TO HAWKS oh my god Deku are you dead

WHAT’S HAPPENING, IS THIS GOOD OR BAD, WHO’S WINNING

things that I wish I could tell from this panel which I unfortunately cannot tell

did she stab him or shoot him?? can you imagine if it was the former lol. why does Horikoshi keep stabbing all my kids. look Kacchan now the two of you can match

did she actually hit him or did he get away??

or did she hit him and then he jumped away?? just, what

well anyway, so now Deku is asking her why she sided with AFO, but he seems a lot more pissed off than when he was interrogating Muscular, though. probably because she shot him three times. fair enough

oh my god

does Lady have a blog here on tumblr dot com?? -- does Horikoshi have a blog here on tumblr motherfucking dot com?? why do I suddenly feel like this man is out here sneakily reading up on all our discourse

oh my god Deku it’s almost like getting up close and personal with someone who can shoot custom bullets from any distance and any position with deadly accuracy was a terrible fucking idea

IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD WARNED YOU NOT TO ENGAGE WITH HER AT ALL COSTS. IF ONLY SOMEONE HAD HAD THE FORESIGHT TO DO THAT sob. can you imagine how much shorter this series would be if characters actually listened to Hawks. Hawks, and Momo. why do we even let anyone else run the show ever

OH MY GOD

DEKU, RUN

OH MY GOD WHAT IS HAPPENING

this looks a lot like what happens to me whenever I play One’s Justice. those fucking combo attacks that you can’t fucking escape from and so your character just has to stand there getting their ass whalloped repeatedly while you wonder why you paid $40 for this

but anyways though. so Lady who did you kill?? I bet they deserved it, don’t worry I forgive you

(ETA: ANYWAY SO FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT LADY NAGANT DID NOTHING WRONG EVER IN HER ENTIRE LIFE. aside from murdering all those innocent people and shit. but there were CIRCUMSTANCES, and THEY WERE EXTENUATING, OKAY.)

-- holy shit

looks like the HPSC arc is back on the menu boys

so are we about to learn that the HPSC was going full Hydra on people’s asses? secretly dispatching anyone they deemed a threat to society?? “taken care of” as in you fucking shot them??

so then was the “hero” she killed actually one of the guys who was giving or carrying out these orders?? holy shit Lady, up until now I’ve mainly just been stanning you for your flawless eyebrow game and metal af quirk, but this shit could actually get real very quickly, and I am prepared to genuinely and sincerely love the shit out of you depending on what we learn next about your backstory

oh my god?!?

so wait, hold up. am I reading this right?? basically the HPSC started murdering vigilantes because they were worried they were gaining too much of the public’s favor?? holy fucking shit???

oh my GOD oh my god

“it’s been a while since I scarred you all with the dead dog and the graphic slaughter of an entire innocent family, huh,” Horikoshi says thoughtfully. “anyway so what do you all think of my new creation, the Spaghetti Bullet.” well, Horikoshi, so you know that squished-up face that Kermit the Frog makes sometimes? yeah. that’s what I think, if you must know lol

holy hell the juxtaposition

I’m actually kind of surprised to learn she had a lot of fans? what with her M.O., I was expecting her to have been an underground hero like Aizawa, but apparently not? then again I still have absolutely no idea how any of that works. I really need to read Vigilantes already

oh snap

nothing like a sweet dose of assassin trauma to finally round out our BnHA Trauma Bingo!! well done guys, we finally collected all of the traumas! hooray!

noooo Ladyyyyyyy

holy shit what a fucking chapter. like, this man promised us an assassin, and went and fucking delivered. I was not expecting it to be this dark, lol, but holy shit I am here for it

you know, at some point you have to start questioning the logistics of this, though

I mean, how do I put this... her quirk isn’t exactly subtle. that murder scene from a few pages back looked like the first season of Dexter for fuck’s sake, that’s not exactly “disappearing” people now is it?? and I mean, her bullets are literally made from her own fucking hair; it seems like it would be impossible not to leave any evidence behind. did no one start to wonder who the fuck was going around murdering all these people? or did the people who asked too many questions wind up getting conveniently “disappeared” themselves??

and hey, speaking of asking too many questions

holy shit is he blackmailing her??!? or no, wait -- what the hell is he reaching for in his pocket boy you better not

(ETA: what exactly was this man expecting fdslkjd. “uh oh my unstoppable hair trigger assassin who is literally always armed is asking questions, better announce that I am going to shoot her and then reach into my pocket veeeeeery slowly while she stands there all of two feet away.” how did this guy ever function as the head of a shadow government with these decision-making skills, I’m genuinely baffled.)

OH MY GOD LADY YES

this. right here. is why “run the fuck away” was damn good solid fucking advice. oh shit. but my god did this dude have it coming

so wait lol has she just been narrating all of this out loud to Deku this entire time

okay but can we just stop for a moment and appreciate the fact that they’re having this deep conversation about the dark secrets of hero society right in the middle of their intense mid-air sniper free-for-all lol

holy shit you guys, Nagant’s the one that should have made the tell-all video. I mean, no offense to you, Dabi, I’m sure you worked very hard on your video and did a ton of crunches every day so that you would look good with your shirt off while you told the world all about how your dad was a jerk. but seriously...

this is already like 100x more convincing than what he put out. also, gasp, is it another flashback

yes it is oh my gosh

so the HPSC Chairladyperson whom ReDestro killed used to be this guy’s direct subordinate, huh? I wonder if she kept the whole assassin program going after she took over. can’t say I was feeling any particular kind of grieving way about her death before, but certainly not now lol

but unfortunately Nagant has finally lost me at the same place where all of the villains inevitably do, which is to say when they somehow make the dubious mental leap from “society sucks and is bad” to “let’s just be openly fucking evil lol, worth a shot.” because when heroes murder innocent people and cover it up, that’s obviously bad (and I mean, it absolutely fucking is lol, don’t get me wrong); but when villains murder innocent people straight up out in the open without giving a fuck, they’re righteous revolutionaries? just -- is there really no non-murdery middle ground here?? I guess that’s what Deku and co. are for, hopefully

anyways oh shit Deku seems to have spotted something?? and he’s doing something weird with Blackwhip what

oh, he spotted her, I guess

lmaooooo

new favorite Deku panel right here. a masterpiece

oh my god you guys our little boy is starting to grow up before our eyes

you love to see it. and you can tell with those elipses that he’s gearing up to say something really cool and determined and badass like the shounen protag he is, yes please, Deku ilu so much please do your thing

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

IS THAT A TEENY TINY LIL EYE SPARKLE THERE OMG. still not anywhere close to his usual standard, but that’s some clear resolve there in his eyes there at long last! it always shines the most clearly when he’s being true to himself and his ideals, so I love that it finally shows up again here, when he’s reaffirming his resolve to help others no matter what

uh oh so what’s Lady going to do now

is it time for a trump card?? kinda sounding like it’s time for a trump card

???

I lied btw, this is my new favorite Deku panel. but anyways what is she up to now lol

ohhhhhh, lol

why does she seem shocked, lol. here I thought this was part of her plan, but apparently she forgot all about ol’ “Look Ma, No Hands” back up there

and so I guess that’s it for this week! so we’ve learned basically everything now about Lady and her quirk and her history with the HPSC and why she agreed to work for AFO. pretty much the only question that still remains is why the hell she decided to drag this asshole along for the ride! because I still cannot figure that out dsklkjlkf

(ETA: actually now I’m kind of wondering if they maybe have some past connection we don’t know about yet. when exactly was Nagant sent to Tartarus? is it possible she was ordered to track down and kill Overhaul at some point before that, but never got around to it? or something else along those lines? idk but now I’m curious.)

anyways Deku, I know that your empathy has no bounds and that you’re on a “saving villains” kick right now, and good on you... but also, if you decide to just like, skip all of that shit just this once, absolutely no one will hold it against you, I’m just saying. just, all I’m asking here is maybe let’s think twice before we start trying to reform guys who imprison and torture little girls for profit. I think maybe that’s a good place to draw the line. next week is going to be a very interesting chapter lol

[fific7]

Fake or Fortune

For @omgrachwrites 1K Follower Celebration - congratulations!

AU: Fake Relationship

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: This does not follow canon, it takes place in my Alternative S1 Punisher Universe, with Arrogant!Billy in attendance.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, slightly questionable consent, some dom/sub interaction, oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Swearing and drinking.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My Photo Edit)

Karen put a large G&T down in front of you, accompanied by a sympathetic look. You picked it up and took a large sip, sighing as you put it back down again.

“I give up, Karen. No matter what I do, without fail I either pick the wrong guy or else think everything’s fine, and then boom - it isn’t.”

This was a commiseration drinking session, which Karen had suggested after she’d noticed you moping around the office. You both worked at the same big newspaper but in different departments, and became good friends after spending numerous lunchtimes together in the staff restaurant.

“What happened this time?” she asked, then winced as she realised maybe that wasn’t the most tactful way of putting things. “I mean, I thought you and David were getting on really well?” You took a larger gulp of your drink, “Well, that’s the thing - so did I. Until I got the “it’s not you, it’s me” talk on Saturday.” You’d been seeing this guy from your Digital News Content section for a few months, and you’d really thought everything had been on track.

Karen sighed, “Oh lord, not that old pile of bullshit.” You nodded, “Yeah, right. I tried to pin him down to exactly what the problem was, but I guess it was just me, when it all came down to it. In fact, I saw him chatting up a girl from Accounts yesterday so he’s already moved on to pastures new. That didn’t take long, did it? Or maybe he’d already moved on but didn’t have the balls to tell me.”

“Look, I’m meeting up with Frank on Friday night for a drink...” her cheeks pinked up, and you smiled at her obvious pleasure in that thought, “....so why don’t you come along? He mentioned one of his friends might tag along.” You held up a hand, “Oh no! No! I’m not being set up.” She shook her head, “It’s not a set-up, I swear. They’ve got a little....issue.... with Homeland and we’re going to talk about it.”

You knew she’d recently met this ex-Marine called Frank when - in her role as investigative reporter - she’d been digging into some big CIA scandal. When was there not a scandal about the CIA, you thought. You knew she’d met him several times over the past couple of weeks and had detected a more-than-just-business interest in him. “Oh, so.... strictly business, then?” you teased. She shifted in her seat, “Well, mainly.... we’ve also been talking about more personal stuff.” “Uh-huh,” you nodded, smirking, “Karen fancies Frank, Karen fancies Frank!” you sang, while she batted your arm and gave an embarrassed laugh.

“Oh shut up, you,” she said, “...are you coming along or not?”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

And that’s why you found yourself sitting in a neighbourhood bar with Karen on Friday night, feeling quite nervous for some reason. Probably because Karen was fidgeting like hell next to you, and you were picking up on her nervous energy. You smiled over at her, “So you really like this guy, huh?” “No!”she denied, then as you raised an eyebrow at her, “Well... okay, yes I do like him. He’s so sweet.” Her eyes widened as she spoke, catching sight of two approaching figures, “Oh! Here he comes.” A big bear of a man came up to your table, smiling broadly at Karen and then including you in the smile as he stopped beside you. “Hey, Karen,” he greeted her, and she beamed back at him. “Hey, Frank,” and then she introduced you to him. His friend, who’d been partially blocked from your sight by Frank’s bulk, moved out from behind him and said ‘Hi - I’m Billy Russo,’ and shook your hand as he did so. “Nice ta meet ya,” said Frank, also shaking your hand and sitting down in the booth next to Karen.

The man who’d just introduced himself as Billy slid in next to you, and you tried not to stare. He was hot. Like, really hot. Dressed in a smart suit and overcoat, he really didn’t look like an ex-Marine, but Karen had told you that both Frank and his friend were ex-service, and that the friend had opened up a security firm called Anvil when he left the Marines. His handsome face turned towards you, and two very dark eyes looked into yours, “So.... you’re a friend of Karen’s?” You nodded, “Yeah, we just worked together to start with but now we’re besties.” “You a reporter too?” “Nah, I’m a lowly sub-editor on the news desk.” A sudden thought occurred to you, “Oh... and just to reassure you, this isn’t a set-up... you and me, I mean.” He smirked, and you found yourself staring at his lush brushed-back hair and sculpted jaw with its light beard. “Would it have been a big problem if it had been?” he was saying to you, and you shook yourself out of your little trance.

“No, I guess not...” you replied, laughing nervously, “...but I just wanted to get it out there.” He looked you over appraisingly, “Well, I wouldn’t have been disappointed at all,” the smirk got bigger, “....so if you change your mind, just let me know.” This left you speechless but he was still looking at you, asking, “Whaddya want to drink? First round’s on me,” before turning his gaze to the others.

Several beers later, you were sitting listening to the other three talking about a lot of indecipherable nonsense (from your point of view), and you were beginning to get antsy. “Karen, I’m going to head off,” you said in a break in the conversation and she looked slightly guilty, “Oh sorry... we’ve been going on about this for ages.” You shrugged, “It’s fine, Karen, honestly. I’ll see you Monday, okay? Have a great weekend.” You turned to the guys, “You too, and thanks for the drinks,” and made to move out of the booth. But Billy didn’t move. “See you home?” he questioned you, and you saw small smiles on both Karen and Frank’s faces. “Yeah, okay,” you nodded, and then he moved, standing aside as you slid out of the booth. As you headed to the door through the crowd of people, you felt his arm snaking around your lower back. Oooh, very confident, you thought. You’d marked him out as a player as soon as you’d set eyes on him.

“Sorry about the boring shop talk,” he said as you both hit the street, “....me and Frankie’ve got some problems with Homeland right now.” “That doesn’t sound good,” you said as you found yourself being guided around the corner from the bar. “Oh, I was going to take the subway,” you protested, but he shook his head, “This time on a Friday night? Nah.” He pointed towards a rather flashy-looking car parked in the street, “Got the car with me so I’ll take you home. I only had one beer, case you didn’t notice.” “I didn’t,” you admitted, “I thought you were sinking beers like the rest of us.” He gave a low laugh, “I was a sniper in the service, so I like to be aware of my surroundings at all times.” A little frisson ran through you, this guy was quite dangerous, you could tell. As you reached the car, he held the passenger door open for you and you climbed in, trying to be as elegant as possible although you weren’t sure you quite achieved that.

As he started the engine and moved the car out into the flow of traffic, he asked, “So what made you come along tonight if it wasn’t a set-up?” “I was bored. I just split up with my boyfriend of a few months so...” you shrugged. You heard a chuckle, “His loss.” “I don’t think that’s what he thought,” you replied, with a self-deprecating laugh. “Well, it’s true,” said Billy, “...believe me. He must be mad to give you up.” “You silver-tongued charmer,” you said back to him, and again you heard his deep chuckle.

“Seriously, it’s my gain. Look, this might seem a bit of an odd request seein’ as how we’ve only just met...” he began, looking across at you as he pulled up outside your apartment block, “....but you’d be doin’ me a big favour. How ‘bout you come along to this charity event I gotta go to next week? As my ‘plus one’?” You hesitated, and he carried on, “No strings, I promise. Just come along as my girlfriend and be on my arm all night. Help me ward off the attentions of someone I’d rather avoid.” You scoffed, “Fake dating? Really?!”

Much to your surprise, you found yourself walking into your building a few minutes later having just agreed to go to this event with Billy. He’d looked pleased, thanking you for saying yes. And you’d also been on the receiving end of a surprise kiss from him. He’d suddenly leant in, slid his big hand around the back of your neck and pulled you in, his mouth finding yours as he did. The kiss had been short but very sexy and you were still tingling from the after-effects.

He’d laughed at your look of total surprise, and wished you sweet dreams. You’d better be careful, warned your internal guardian angel, he said ‘No Strings’.... remember? So don’t go getting all invested in this guy. He’s a player.... for sure.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy and you had swapped numbers, and the following morning you were pleasantly surprised to get a text asking if you could meet him later that day. Intrigued, you texted back saying you didn’t have any other plans but why did he need to meet up? He came back saying he’d had an idea to help out with the event next week, and said he could pick you up. Feeling like you could be making a big mistake, you agreed so he said he’d be at your place around two.

You made sure you dressed casually. Not having any idea where you were going, but sure it wouldn’t be a date as such, you just chose a shirt and jeans with some suede ankle boots. When Billy texted you to say he was parked outside, you left your apartment and locked up, feeling a spark of excitement run through you as you did. “This is not a date, this is not a date, this is not a date!” you chanted in your head as you went downstairs. Billy, you saw with relief, was also dressed casually in jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket and combat boots. He gave you a big grin as you got in the car, the luxurious leather aroma of the interior filling your nostrils. “What make of car is this?” you asked, being an “it’s a black one” kind of girl. He gave you what could only be described as a smug smile, “Rolls Royce Wraith, sweetheart,” he answered. “Oh, okay,” you said, “....expensive, I take it?” “Very.” “Surprised you park it on the street the way you do then,” you shrugged, and he burst out laughing. “Is it one of those so-called penis extensions?” you asked next, and Billy nearly choked he was laughing so hard.

“Firstly, I take it that means you aren’t particularly impressed,” he gasped, getting his breath back after his laughing fit, “...and secondly, no darlin’, it definitely isn’t one of those ‘penis extensions‘ as you put it. Got no need for one-a those.” You returned his smirk, “Really? Well, I don’t care what car a guy drives,” you said firmly, “...that’s got nothing to do with what he’s like.” He glanced across at you as he swung the car into one of the downtown underground car parks. “And what do you think I’m like?” You looked at his profile as he concentrated on parking the big car in a corner space, “Mmmm... I think you’ve had a hard upbringing and now you’re making up for it. Big time.”

Billy switched the engine off and turned to stare at you, the dark eyes drilling into yours with an intensity you hadn’t been expecting. “Wow,” said Billy, “....you sure you’re not one-a these psychoanalysts or somethin’?” “Definitely,” you replied. “Well, you sure sound like you’ve been analysing me, sweetheart,” he said. You didn’t know him well enough to gauge his mood, and he carried on, “I mean, you got all that from meetin’ me last night and just now?” You nodded, saying neutrally, “I’m just speculating of course... but the expensive suits, the car, and I bet a big flashy apartment too, it just says ‘I can afford this now and I’m gonna enjoy it’ to me.” You were relieved to hear a chuckle as you’d been worried you’d really offended him. “Spot on,” he said, “...yeah, you’re spot on. I think you’re maybe in the wrong business.” You decided to change the subject, “So... where are we going, Billy?” “You’ll see in a minute,” he grinned, “....c’mon, let’s go sweetheart.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Minutes later, you were standing outside one of the expensive and trendy boutiques in the area. Billy’s hand went under your elbow and he steered you inside. “Billy... what’s going on?” He nodded to one of the staff who started making her way over to the two of you. “Look, it was my bright idea to drag you along to this thing, so the least I can do is treat you to a new outfit.” You were shaking your head before he’d stopped speaking, “Oh no, no... I can’t let you do that!” He was nodding back at you - it must’ve looked quite comical to the store assistant, “Oh yes, you will - I insist.” He turned to the woman, “Please can you help my girlfriend pick out an outfit for a formal event?” And before you could say anything else, he’d wandered over to a seating area near the changing rooms and seated himself in a comfortable armchair. “I’ll be right here, sweets,” he said, beaming at you. Girlfriend indeed, you thought.

The store assistant looked expectantly at you and you nodded hesitantly at her, so she led you over to some rails filled with lots of beautiful dresses. “How nice of your boyfriend to buy you a whole new outfit,” she commented, beginning to slide the dresses back and forth along the rail looking for a selection for you, “He’s very charming,” she continued, admiringly. “Yes, isn’t he,” you said between gritted teeth. Truthfully, you were feeling as if you were out shopping with your sugar daddy. But you had to admit that your bank account would’ve been protesting loudly if you’d had to make the purchase yourself, and you definitely would’ve had to buy something new as nothing in your wardrobe was even remotely suitable for a formal event. And he was right, this was all his bright idea. So you’d just suck it up, you thought, however reluctantly.

Eventually the assistant had several dresses folded over her arm for you to try on, and you sailed past Billy to the changing rooms without as much as a glance at him. But you just knew he was staring at you as disappeared behind the curtain.

After twenty minutes of struggling in and out of the various dresses, you had to admit that the assistant had made some good choices. There were three that you really liked, and you finally chose a midnight blue silky sheath of mid-thigh length, an asymmetric one-shoulder-strap neckline and a swirl of sequins diagonally across it from neck to hem. It was tight-fitting but didn’t show off an excessive amount of skin - you didn’t want to have it all out there on show after all.

The assistant had also brought several pairs of shoes to you once you’d chosen your dress, and you picked out a pair of matching delicate strappy sandals. Pleased with your choices, you put your own clothes back on and went out to find Billy. He looked up from his phone as you exited the changing room, a disappointed look on his face, “What.... no catwalk show for your boyfriend?” You leant down and whispered, “Okay, you’re laying it on a bit thick, Russo,” to which he grinned, gently took hold of your chin and softly kissed you. “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he smirked. Then a horrible thought occurred to you, “Billy!” you whispered forcefully. He looked a bit nervously at you, “What?” “There was no price tag on that dress or the shoes either!” He waved a hand at you, “Yeah? That’s okay, just leave it to me.” “No! That’s not on. I’m going to ask her what the price is.” He jumped up out of the armchair, “Nah, nah! Told ya, it was my idea you come along so just let me do this, okay?”

He set off without further delay to the cash desk, while you reluctantly waited in the seating area. Not particularly comfortable with the idea of him buying you an outfit, you decided that you’d offer to buy him dinner to kind of offset his no doubt hefty bill for the dress purchase. He came back over to you a few moments later carrying a large box in one of the boutique’s carrier bags which he handed to you with a grin. “She’d already boxed it before I could see it so it’s still gonna be a surprise when I see it on the night.” You smirked back, you were quite pleased about that. “Billy, let me buy you dinner as a thank you for the dress.” “Okay, I won’t say no to a free dinner,” he grinned, “...where d’ya wanna go?” You mentally reviewed your bank balance and named a mid-priced restaurant close by.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After a pleasant couple of hours chatting over dinner, Billy drove you home. Debating how to end the night, you came up with what you felt was a decent plan. Not that you were trying to extend the evening of course. That would be just plain stupid as the ‘relationship’ was all a big fake. Remember? your brain asked you. “You know Billy, we haven’t prepared a back story yet, have we?” you said as he drew up outside your place. “A back story?” “Yeah. I mean, if this person you’re trying to avoid happens to ask us - together or separately - about our relationship, we need to be singing from the same songsheet, don’t we?” He looked thoughtful, “Uh yeah, you’ve got a point there.” “OK, well how about you come in for a glass of wine or a coffee and we can get that sorted now?” A devilish smirk appeared, “Plannin’ to ravish me, sweetheart?”

You felt your face heat up with a sudden blush, “No!! Purely to agree on the back story. But hey - we can just text about it if you’d prefer!” Embarrassed, you grabbed your bags, opened the car door and began to get out, but Billy grabbed your arm, “Hey, hey, sweetheart - I’m just kiddin’. Hold on an’ I’ll park up. We can walk up together.” You huffed slightly and closed the car door again, while Billy looked around for a parking space. Once parked, the two of you went up to your apartment and you unlocked the door, waving him inside and over to the sofa while you stashed the bags and headed to the kitchen area. “What would you like? Wine, beer or coffee?” “I’d better just have a coffee,” he said, “...don’t wanna get drunk and pass out in your apartment. Not a good look.” “I don’t see you as a ‘getting drunk’ kinda guy, Billy. You already told me you like to be aware of your surroundings.” He laughed, “You’re right, I don’t make a habit of gettin’ wasted.”

So you switched on your coffee machine and asked what kind of coffee he’d like, holding up a handful of different capsules. He strolled over to you, draping his leather jacket over the back of one of the high stools at your breakfast bar as he reached you. He leaned down slightly and looked at the selection you had in your hand, and you were suddenly very aware of the scent of his aftershave. “Whattya got there, then?” You took his hand and dumped them all in it, saying, “I’m just gonna fill up the water jug while you decide,” and moving swiftly away from him. You were finding it very difficult indeed to ignore the magnetic attraction he was exerting over you, but you really had to try harder as you were only going to end up getting hurt otherwise. He held out a capsule toward you, “Americano’s fine,” he said.

The two cups of coffee made a few moments later, you led him back over to the sofa and you both sat down at opposite ends. “Okayyyy,” said Billy, “....back story then?” You nodded, “Yeah. Nothing too fancy as the less details we have to remember the better.” “Good idea. We should probably add in some truth too. So.... we met through Karen & Frank?” “Yes, that’s a good start. Where did we meet and how long have we been seeing each other?” “Neighbourhood bar, and a coupla months?” “Okay, yeah. Actually is that about it? That was easier than I thought! Or...what else might they ask? Who is this person you’re avoiding - are they gonna be really nosy?” Billy snorted, “Oh yeah! Her name’s Caroline, a spoilt rich bitch. Her father owns a tech company and he supplies some of our equipment. She came along to one of the meetings recently and now she’s stalking me.” You grinned, “And that’s a problem for you? I would’ve thought you’d quite enjoy that, Billy.”

He grinned back, “Are you sayin’ I’m a player or somethin’?” “Well, aren’t you? I’m kinda getting that vibe.” Now he laughed out loud, “Maybe. But I like doin’ the chasing, sweetheart, not the other way round. If she ever got hold-a me, I’d never get outta her clutches.” “What - you wouldn’t? Not much of an ex-Marine then, are you?” He rolled his eyes, “Seriously, this woman’s so clingy she’d attach herself to me like a limpet mine. And I don’t like violence against women so I’d be in a difficult situation. Plus the main thing’s the business link with her daddy. His stuff’s good, I wouldn’t wanna have to replace him as a supplier. So you see, you’re doing me a solid here.” “When you say stalking you, do you mean literally?” “Well, like turning up at Anvil all the time to ‘check on the equipment’ and shit like that.” “So not outside the office then? I’m just thinking along the lines of her not seeing us around together before the event if she’s around you outside business hours. She might not buy it.” “As far as I know, only in office hours.”

“As far as you know? That’s not exactly reassuring if she’s as much of a stalker as you say she is.” He laughed, “No, I’m sure she’s not around apart from that.” “Okay, well is there anything else you can think of that she might ask?” He gave you a sly grin, “If we’ve slept together.” You got up and took your empty cup over to the kitchen sink, “Uh-huh.... well she can ask! We’ll just have to lie, won’t we?” You turned round only to find Billy invading your personal space again, and you moved back slightly in surprise. He followed, crowding you against the counter, dark eyes gazing into yours, “Uh... we don’t have to lie.” You leaned further back, your brain yelling ‘don’t give in to him!’ at you. “Billy... you suggested this whole thing and you also said ‘no strings’, remember? Well, if we did that... that would be strings, don’t you agree?” He reached round you and put his cup in the sink too, “Yeah, I guess so. Just thought we could make things look a little more.... authentic, y’know?” He turned and grabbed his jacket off the back of the stool, but then took you by surprise again by swooping in for a long kiss, pulling you against his body and his big hand sliding around the back of your neck. You pulled away, trying to catch your breath.

Those espresso-coloured eyes were gazing into yours, a lazy grin on his face. “Hey, you’ll need to get less jumpy when I do that else she’s definitely not gonna buy it.” He stood back from you, shrugging into his jacket, “Might need a bit more practice, sweetheart,” he smirked, “....so how about we meet up again tomorrow? We can learn a bit more about each other, as well as you getting more comfortable when I get physical with you,” and wiggled his eyebrows at you. Against your better judgement, you agreed and so he said he’d pick you up at four the next day.

Once he’d gone, you poured yourself a stiff brandy. You couldn’t deny you wanted to spend more time with him, much as you knew you were setting yourself up for a fall. Really... just what the hell did you think you were doing?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was thinking the very same thing to himself as he drove away. He was enjoying those kisses way too much. But he was the one who’d suggested this whole fake relationship thing, and definitely with ‘no strings’. Because that was the Russo Way.

He’d better get his head back on straight, and stop thinking about the gorgeous woman in the apartment back there as anything other than a way to ditch the very irritating Caroline.

He also got the distinct feeling she’d marked him out as a player and wouldn’t want to get involved with him anyhow. Well, he was a player and he couldn’t deny that. Wasn’t sure he could ever see himself as a one-woman man. Caroline was attractive enough and in the normal way of things, he’d’ve taken her out maybe a couple of times, fucked and then forgotten her. But her father and Billy’s business relationship complicated things somewhat.

So yeah, he’d make sure she saw him with a lovely woman on his arm at the gala, kiss (and maybe fuck if he got lucky) the lovely woman at the end of the night and move right along. Apart from anything else, the fact that she was Karen’s friend complicated things way beyond what he wanted to get involved in, because he couldn’t afford to upset either her or her friend, Frankie’d kill him if he did.

Definitely better stick with the Russo Way. It had never failed him before, had it?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next day, Billy glided the car to a stop outside her apartment block at 4 o’clock as promised, dropping her a quick text to announce his arrival. Soon, he saw her figure walking out of the main door and making her way towards him.

Damn! Mmm, she was looking good. Little pink sundress, short denim jacket, bare legs and low wedge pink sandals. Yeah, really cute. Smart and funny too. And sexy, of course. Very sexy. Totally fuckable. Completely and utterly fuckable. Woah - stop that Russo! Right now!

All these thoughts ran through his head in the 10 seconds it took her to reach the car.

He leant over and pushed open the passenger door for her, “Hi sweetheart.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d noticed Billy’s eyes running over you as you went up to the car, and then spotted his tongue making a swift trip over his bottom lip as he greeted you. You got the feeling he was looking at you like you were a snack to be consumed. Determined to resist how attracted you felt to him, you hopped into the car and said Hi back. Billy’s big hand landed on your thigh as you fastened your seat belt, his long fingers sliding upwards. Batting them away, you continued clipping yourself in and he laughed, leaning across and pulling you to him, kissing you long and slow. Breaking apart, he said, “Remember we gotta practice, sweetheart,” grinning at you. “Mmmhuh,” you nodded, “I remember you saying that.” “Just relax! Get comfortable with me touchin’ and kissin’ you. We’re boyfriend and girlfriend after all.” “Mmmhuh,” you said again, and once more his hand found its way onto your thigh and began stroking, eventually inching upwards again.

This time, you decided to stay still, thinking that yes, you had better get comfortable with this if this whole stupid fake relationship thing was going to work. But when his hand parted your legs and one long slim finger swiftly made its way inside your panties and - without further warning - actually inside you, you jumped like a startled deer and squirmed away from him. “Billy!” you protested loudly, but he merely smirked victoriously at you and pushed a second finger inside you to join its cousin. You shoved at his resistant arm, “Stop it!” His mouth found yours and he began kissing you as his fingers moved steadily in and out of you then his thumb was on your clit, and he began massaging firmly. “Sssshhh, sweetheart, we’re just messin’ around,” you heard his low voice in your ear, “...this is high school stuff.” “But I didn’t say you could do this to me!” you snarled, trying to ignore how good he was making you feel, and you felt his fingers leave you. He sat back in his car seat, taking a tissue out of his jacket pocket and slowly wiping his fingers, looking across at you all the while with a contemplative look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, but not sounding regretful at all, “I didn’t think you’d mind. Thought it’d loosen you up a bit like we said.” He smirked at you, “You can’t deny I got you wet, and I know you’re attracted to me. Thought you’d enjoy it.” Your mouth dropped open, “You arrogant fucker!” you exclaimed, “You know what, you can take your fake dating shit and shove it where the sun doesn’t fucking shine!” You jumped out of the car, slamming the door with an almighty bang behind you. Stomping back up to your apartment, you opened your front door and slammed it behind you too, angrily throwing your bag onto the sofa as you passed on your way to the kitchen. You took off your jacket and threw it onto a high stool, furious enough to take a bottle of gin out of the cupboard and grab a clean glass from the dishwasher. You were just taking a bottle of tonic water out of the fridge when there was a knock at your door.

Okay, well that was either your annoying across-the-hall neighbour... who complained about anything and everything... here to moan about the door-slamming, or else it was Billy. Whoever was on the other side of the door was going to be greeted by your frowning face, and you really didn’t give a shit which one it was. You dramatically swung open the door, and it was in fact Billy Russo who was confronted by your unhappy visage. He immediately held up his hands in a placatory gesture. “Look, I am really, truly, sorry. I ... can I come in and explain?” You turned on your heel and walked back to the kitchen, leaving him to close the door behind him and follow in your footsteps. “Want a drink?” He nodded, “I’d love a beer if you’ve got one, please.” You took a bottle of beer out of the fridge and handed it to him, then got a bottle top remover for him out of one of your drawers.

He popped off the cap then took a long swig, as he watched you prepare a G&T for yourself. You also took a big sip then leant back against the counter and regarded him with a steely gaze. “You said you wanted to explain.” He took another gulp of beer and began, “I.... look, I’m so sorry okay? I totally misread the situation.” Sipping your gin, you said, “I’ll say you did, Billy! I get the distinct impression you mistook me for one of the easy lays you no doubt pick up in bars. Is that how you treat your one-and-done’s, huh? Well, don’t try that shit with me, okay?” He looked over at you shamefaced and shrugged, “Uhhh...I ..uhh.. yeah, I guess I did.... look, I really am sorry, sweetheart. I can’t apologise enough, and I really didn’t mean to upset you.” You took another big hit of your gin, slightly - but only very slightly - mollified. “And as for your comment that I’m attracted to you...!!!” Momentarily you were speechless, unsure what you wanted to say or how to put it. Mainly because it was the truth, you acknowledged to yourself.

Before you could say anything, Billy held up his hands again, “I’m incredibly embarrassed about saying that. Really crass. And arrogant, as you said.” You noticed that his face had pinked up somewhat. “In fact just forget I said it,” he carried on. “Bit late for that now isn’t it! Did you say it because you’re used to women falling at your feet, Billy?”

He looked down at the beer bottle in his hand, waggling it back and forward before saying, “Yeah. If I’m honest, I don’t usually haveta try too hard.” His eyes met yours, “And if I’m bein’ even more honest, gotta admit I’m attracted to you. Like, really attracted. So, yeah - I was hoping for something more than just going to the charity event with you.”

You drew in a big breath. What? What did he just say to you? No. You mentally shook your head, and then realised you were actually shaking it. “Billy.... you’re a player, that much is blatantly obvious. Would you know what a relationship is if it came up and bit you on the ass? Something tells me you wouldn’t.” He had the grace to look guilty. You continued, “So here’s what we’ll do. If you still need me to come along to the gala, then I’ll do that. And then we’ll go back to being strangers. Okay?”

He twirled his beer bottle between his long fingers, and shrugged, “Okay, sweetheart. M’happy you’re still gonna help me out. But can’t we at least be friends afterwards? Reckon Karen ‘n Frank’re gonna be seeing a lot of each other so we’ll probably keep bumping into each other.” Your face softened into a smile, “Yeah, they like each other don’t they? You’re right, we probably will be spending some time together because of those two. Okay... friends, then.”

He smiled at you, approaching warily and sliding his hand round to the back of your head and up into your hair, pulling you closer. “M’gonna kiss you, s’that okay?” but being Billy, didn’t wait for your reply. His lips met yours in a gentler kiss than earlier, his fingers stroking the back of your neck. He moved his hips against yours, and you knew he’d done this so you’d feel his erection against your body. You moved sideways and pulled away from him, why did he have to make you breathless when you just wanted to be cool, calm and collected around him? He looked a bit crestfallen, but recovered swiftly and asked, “How about we order in some food and just spend some quality time together?” You sighed, “Okay, Billy, let’s do that. But no more groping or anything, okay?” He nodded, looking serious and miming a cross over his heart, “Promise.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You pushed the pizza box away from you, “God, I’m stuffed.” Billy picked up his beer bottle and drank, giving a small delicate burp as he did so, “Me too.” Reaching over, he picked up the remote and began flicking through Netflix, “Whaddya wanna watch next?” he asked. “Mmmm, you pick a movie. But not one about war.” He laughed, “Oh don’t worry, I never watch war films, had enough-a that in real life.” Lying back and letting out a deep breath, you said apologetically, “I bet you did. Sorry.” Shrugging, he also lay back, his head turning towards you, “S’okay. We can talk about it sometime if you like. And about my less-than-perfect childhood. And some of my more recent fuck-ups.” He gave a bitter laugh, “I’m a fuckin’ train wreck, sweetheart - you’ve made the right decision, best you don’t get involved with me.” His eyes looked big and a bit glossy, and before you could help yourself you’d laid your hand on his shoulder, “I’m sure you’re not that bad, Billy.” He turned away from you, looking at the TV before selecting a sci-fi fantasy movie, “Oh believe me, I am,” he said in a low voice.

You shifted a bit closer to him on the sofa, “Don’t be so down on yourself, Billy. You’ve achieved a lot of things... got your own company, fancy car, fine suits, lots of money, prestige.” He grinned at you, “But all that doesn’t matter to you, does it?” You shook your head, “No, but they’re still achievements to be proud of.” His head dropped and some locks of hair fell over his forehead. “Thank you,” he mumbled, and you watched as your hand went of its own accord to his face and stroked the errant hair back off his forehead. His head swivelled towards you, dark eyes gazing into yours; he took hold of your arms and drew you against his chest. “Can we snuggle?” he asked you, then wrapped his arms right around you, before lying down and swinging his long legs up onto the sofa, pulling you with him. You snorted out a laugh, “Snuggle? That doesn’t exactly fit with your ex-soldier or current playboy personas!” “Aw, c’mon sweetheart, gimme a break - I’m tryin’ to be a well-behaved boy here!” You snuggled into his chest a bit, “Okay, but remember - no wandering hands!” He held up both hands, “Not wandering - look!” before placing them chastely on your arm and shoulder.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your eyes opened, and you groggily looked around you, disorientated. Hearing soft little snores from beneath you, you raised your head to look at Billy’s sleeping face. Oh. You’d both obviously dozed off in front of the TV, the Netflix menu now on the screen. Moving slowly, you started to try and stand up but two hands went round your arms in a vice-like grip. “Where you off to?” said Billy’s deep voice. “Just...ummm... just...” you stuttered, but suddenly you were underneath him, his weight pressing you down as his mouth found yours in a hungry kiss. You knew you should resist but damn, he was a good kisser! Feeling yourself dissolve into the kiss, one of your hands moved up to his bristly jawline.

His kisses became more passionate and he pushed himself against you even more, his arousal very evident. You tried to ignore them but your feelings of desire for him were becoming overwhelming, and your arms went round his neck almost unbidden. He was smiling against your lips, and you heard, “Wanna sleep with me? D’you wanna?” Your treacherous mouth said “Yes!” in a breathy whisper, and that was all Billy needed to hear.

He picked you up in his arms, whispering “Where’s your bedroom?” You nodded towards its general direction and he carried you across the apartment and into your room. Setting you down, his fingers were immediately at the zip of your dress, pulling it down, pushing the fabric down then further down until your dress was round your ankles, before whipping it fully off and dropping it onto the floor. You watched him as his eyes roamed all over your body, taking in your lacy lingerie and moving the straps of your bra off your shoulders. “Mmmmm, sweetheart - wow - even better than I imagined,” he said hoarsely, his hands going round your back and unclipping your bra. He stripped it off you and dropped it, both hands immediately cupping your breasts and massaging firmly, thumbs running over your nipples as they peaked. Moving you backwards until your head hit the pillows, you felt his fingers pulling the fabric of your panties aside and suddenly the head of his cock was at your core and pushing inside you. “No time for foreplay, sorry,” you heard and you gave a deep groan when he kept going, feeling his balls brushing your pussy as he fully sheathed himself. His head went back and he gasped, “Fuck!” before he began to thrust. He lifted your legs and draped them over his hips, encouraging you to cross your ankles on his back to pull him even closer.

His mouth was everywhere on you, kissing you deeply one minute before his mouth went to one of your nipples, teasing it with his tongue while his thumb and fingers toyed with the other, then his mouth and teeth were on your neck and shoulders while he set a ferocious pace. A constant stream of low groans were leaving your lips as he moved on you, and you could hear him gasping and muttering words above you, not all of which you could catch, but you did hear “Uhhh, been wantin’ to do this to ya since the minute we met” between thrusts. You ran your hands over his chest and up around his neck, threading your fingers through his lush hair, and you felt him shiver as you pulled on it gently. His thumb was on your clit now, rubbing at you relentlessly and your orgasm washed over you like a wave. His teeth were fastened onto your shoulder and he bit down as you felt his body tense as he came. He lowered himself gently onto you before rolling off, lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling as he got his breath back. “Wow,” he said quietly, before moving onto his side and gazing at you, running a finger gently along your jaw. “Yes, wow,” you replied, putting your hand on his bristly cheek.

“Well, if Caroline does ask if we’ve slept together, now we don’t have to lie,” smirked Billy. This instantly ruined the mood and you sat up, prior to wrapping one of the covers round you and getting out of bed. He looked a bit surprised, but you began moving away from the bed towards the bathroom. Returning a few moments later, you hesitated for a moment before climbing back into bed beside Billy, who was still lying there in all his naked glory. He immediately moved next you, his hands on your arm, “Did I say something wrong earlier? You were up and off like a ballistic missile.” You looked over at him, “A girl doesn’t exactly like to hear another one’s name getting mentioned just seconds after lovemaking.” A guilty look passed over his face, “Awww, shit!... I didn’t think, I’m really sorry... I was just so happy you slept with me, sweetheart.” He stroked your hair away from your face, “Forgive me? And my big clumsy mouth?” You huffed a bit but eventually nodded, not least due to the soft kisses he was peppering over your face and neck.

He breathed a sigh of relief, “I seem to spend all my time apologising to you,” he chuckled, “I’m really making a mess of this fake dating.” “Can’t argue with you there, Billy,” you agreed. “Look, I’m gonna try a lot harder, okay?” he said, running a finger along your arm. You sighed, “Okay... well here’s hoping it’ll be alright on the night.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The rest of the week, you and Billy had traded phone calls and text messages but (to your secret disappointment) the two of you didn’t meet up. To your mind that could only mean that Billy, who’d admitted to you that he liked the thrill of the chase, had now already caught you so that was it as far as he was concerned. He’d said that his work had been crazy busy but you didn’t feel at all convinced by that.

Friday eventually rolled around, and you were glad you’d decided to take a half day off work to get ready. Karen had strolled up to your desk as you were packing up your stuff before leaving, and you recognised her ‘Serious Talk’ look on her face. She walked along to the elevator with you and followed you inside. “Y’know I hope you really enjoy your evening with Billy tonight, but....” she bit her lip before continuing, “...you know he’s a player, right?” She quickly put her hand on your arm as the elevator reached the ground floor, “I’m not trying to spoil your fun, honestly I’m not, but some of the things Frank’s let slip recently would make your toes curl. Billy’s totally ruthless when it comes to cutting women loose.” The elevator doors opened and you both walked out, with you saying, “Don’t worry Karen, I sussed that out the minute I saw him,” over your shoulder as you continued out into the main lobby. You stopped and turned to her, lowering your voice and continuing, “But I slept with him last weekend and just as expected, he’s avoided meeting up with me all during this week.” Her mouth tightened, and you knew you were in for a Page Lecture. “Gahhh! What were you thinking?! You’ve just reinforced his impression that he can pull any woman he wants and then disappear on her! I can’t believe you didn’t even wait for this gala thing tonight! You could at least have held off till then.”

“Yes, mom,” you sighed, then smiled at her. “But you know what Karen, he’s so hot I just couldn’t resist! And I knew exactly what his reaction would be, and he hasn’t disappointed. He’s been in touch obviously because we’ve got this thing tonight, but he’s been ‘too busy at work’ to meet up. I’m sure that in Russo-speak, that really means ‘too busy chasing tail’ but I’m cool with that. Like I said, it’s what I expected,” shrugging as you said this. “Hmmmm,” replied Karen, staring at you intensely as if trying to read your mind, “...well as long as you know what you’re getting yourself into.” “I do,” you reassured her, hugging her before walking away with a nonchalant wave.

Out on the street you exhaled a big breath. If only you truly believed that.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy pulled up outside her apartment block and, as before, texted her to say he was there.

He was disappointed that he hadn’t been able to meet up with her during the week, and was also aware she probably thought he was avoiding her now they’d slept together. But he’d truly been up to his ears in it at work, and he wasn’t yet established enough in the security market to turn down job offers. So he’d taken on probably a few more than he should have done, and both he and Frank had had to weigh in on a couple of them to make sure they were handled correctly.

So apart from calls and texts, he’d had to miss out on seeing her. In fact, all he’d been thinking of the entire week was the prolonged session they’d indulged in last weekend. Once he’d apologised for mentioning Caroline’s name after they’d first made love, (really smart move Russo, he thought to himself) there had been a whole night of energetic and very enjoyable sex. Then a shared shower late the next morning after she’d woken him up with a surprise and very welcome blow job. God, the things she could do with her mouth! He squirmed in his seat, starting to get hard just thinking about it. He couldn’t wait for another one of those, that was for sure. Tonight after the gala if he was lucky!

He saw the main door to her apartment block open and she started walking towards the car. Wish I could get a better idea of how she looked in her dress, he thought. Oh well, I’ll just need to wait till we actually get to the place.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You slid into Billy’s flashy car, tucking your feet in last in an effort to be elegant. He leaned over, grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you long and hard. You eventually shoved him away, exclaiming “Billy! My lipstick!” You peered at his face, “And you’re covered in it!”

He burst out laughing, “Well, hello sweetheart!”

You handed him a tissue whilst you began trying to repair the smudges around your lips. He dampened it on his tongue and then quickly rubbed the burgundy colour off his mouth. Once you’d fixed your face, you leant over towards him and his mouth headed to yours again but you pulled back. “I’m checking your shirt collar to make sure there’s none on there!” Chuckling, he started up the car, “I did wonder why you waited till you’d put your lipstick back on before kissin’ me again.” “You kissed me!” you protested. He just laughed and manoeuvred the car into the traffic stream.

His head then swung towards you, “If you say so, sweetheart! Hey, I’d say you look beautiful but I can’t get a proper look at you in the car. So wait a little while till we get there and then I can compliment you properly, okay?” You nodded, “Yeah, same. I can’t get a look at you either.” Another chuckle, “You can see as much of me as you want later tonight, sweetheart.” “You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?!” Billy’s hand stole onto your thigh and travelled higher. “Wearin’ panties?” You tolerated his wandering fingers, “Yes I am, Marine. Sorry to disappoint.” He shrugged, smirk firmly in place, “Fine by me. They’re not gonna stop me gettin’ to where I wanna be anyhow.” Somewhat surprisingly to you, his hand went back onto the steering wheel. “But I’m gonna wait till we’re alone later. See, sweetheart - I’ve learned my lesson!” “Glad to hear it!” you shot back at him, before looking out of the window at the passing streets.

After arriving and parking at the venue, one of the big downtown hotels, you and Billy made your way upstairs to the function room. Leaving your coats at the cloakroom, Billy twirled you round in front of him, looking you over slowly from top to toe. “You look gorgeous,” he said admiringly, “really beautiful.” “Thank you. Not so bad yourself, Russo.” He was in one of his bespoke suits and was looking edible. He mock-bowed then leant down and kissed you on the lips, and you reminded yourself to act naturally when he did that. You both began walking towards the sound of music and chatter, his hand straying down onto the top of your ass as you went. Karen’s voice rang in your ears about how much of a player he was, and once again you fought the instinct to swat his hand away. If you could just do your duty and get through tonight, then you could put yourself deep into protective mode over this handsome devil.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Several gin & tonics later, you were returning from the ladies’ room and heading back to where you’d left your ‘boyfriend’ at the bar, wondering how much more of this tedious event you could stand, when you heard a high-pitched voice trilling, “Oh Billy! There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Hahah! you thought, this must be the infamous Caroline! Well, at least this next part is going to inject some much-needed fun into the evening.

You could see a small brunette standing in front of Billy with her hands grasping his biceps and beginning to pull him towards her. He spotted you approaching over her shoulder and extricated himself from her clutches saying, “Caroline.... how nice to see you! Just in time for me to introduce you to my girlfriend...” “Girlfriend?!” She whirled round and met your eyes, her own narrowing as she looked you up and down in a flash. You continued walking towards the two of them, noting that she was pretty but was heavily made up; she really didn’t need to plaster it on like she had but - whatever, you thought. Billy moved past her to swiftly put his arm around your waist and draw you to him, introducing you at the same time. She nodded her head briefly at you, “Hi, I’m Caroline. A friend of Billy’s.” She emphasised the word ‘friend’. You beamed back a big smile at her, “Lovely to meet another of his friends,” you said, also emphasising the word. You felt Billy tense up a bit, but you thought that playing the jealous girlfriend might be a good way to go, especially when you noticed the little smirk on her face. You tugged on his arm, “C’mon Billy, you promised me a dance,” you said in a ‘little girl’ voice, which nearly made you heave quite frankly but you felt struck the right note.

Billy raised a hand vaguely towards Caroline as he said to you, “Yes I did, sweetheart. Let’s go. Bye, Caroline - good to see you,” and then gave you a long kiss as the two of you headed to the dance floor. Once Billy had you in his arms, you felt his lips next to your ear and he whispered, “So.... jealous girlfriend, huh?” You nodded, smiling up at him, “She’ll like the fact that I think she’s a threat. But as long as you keep up the PDA’s, I think she’ll buy it.” He immediately kissed you, the hand which had been on your waist surreptitiously sliding downwards at the same time. As you broke apart from the kiss, you caught sight of Caroline glaring at the two of you from a table near the edge of the dance floor. You ran your hand up onto Billy’s jaw before continuing to the back of his neck. You’d discovered during your night together that this was one of Billy’s weak spots, so you trailed your fingers over his skin and had him wrapped round your finger within seconds, just as had happened that other night. He pressed his body close against you, ensuring you felt how aroused he was. “When can we skip out of here?” he breathed to you, making you laugh. “I don’t know! It’s your event - when do you want to stay until?”

Before he could reply, you were aware of a figure next to you and a hand went onto Billy’s arm. “Mind if I cut in?” asked Caroline, giving you a nasty smirk. However it dropped off her face when Billy said hurriedly, “Sorry, Caroline - we’re just leaving,” and began leading you off the dance floor. “Oh, that’s such a shame,” you heard, and realised she was trailing after you and Billy as you left the dance floor. “I was so looking forward to hearing all about how you & Billy met.” You stole a quick glance at Billy before saying over your shoulder, “Through mutual friends.” Still following you both as you headed over to pick up your coats, she rattled out, “it’s just that I’m a bit surprised - it seems quite strange that Billy never mentioned a girlfriend before tonight.” Billy looked irritated but his face became blank as he turned slightly back towards her and replied, “Uh, I am right here y’know!.... well Caroline, we never spoke about our personal lives so it’s not that strange at all to be honest.” You’d reached the small counter by now and had handed over the tickets to the attendant, and while you’d hoped that Billy’s answer would have silenced her, Caroline continued, “So how long have you been dating?” You turned and stared at her, and found her already staring back at you, “Mmm, it’s about two months now, isn’t it Billy?” and moved your eyes to his. He glanced quickly behind him at her, “ Yes, sweetheart - a little over two months actually,” he turned back to you, smiling fondly, “and I gotta say, they’ve been two of the sweetest months of my life.” He leant down and kissed you full on the lips.

Caroline’s lip curled up at this and was still curling as you met her annoyed gaze once Billy’s lips left yours. “Well,” she began, but was then interrupted by a tall older man who came up to the three of you and placed a hand on Caroline’s shoulder. “Hello, Russo,” he said, shaking hands with Billy who greeted him with a “Hi, Mike,” as the older guy’s eyes wandered quizzically over to you. “And who’s this lovely young lady, then?” he asked but before either you or Billy could say anything, Caroline spat out, “His girlfriend, Daddy - imagine that!” However her father merely gave you a friendly grin while Billy introduced you. After a quick handshake, he commented that it was a real shame that you were both leaving before he could buy you a drink. But Billy said firmly, with a mischievous look at you, “Sorry, Mike.... we’re... uhhh... quite anxious to get home.” Mike laughed knowingly while you heard a loud ‘tut’ from his daughter. You smiled brightly at both of them, “Well.... lovely to meet you and hope you enjoy the rest of the evening. Bye!” Taking your coat from the attendant, Billy helped you into it before putting on his own and the two of you said final goodbyes to Mike and Caroline before making your escape.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“Thank god that’s over!” you breathed out a sigh of relief as you settled back into your seat, while Billy switched on the car’s powerful engine and it purred into life. “You didn’t enjoy it?” he grinned, “...even with such a charming boyfriend attending to your every need all evening?!” You laughed, “Sorry Billy, no I didn’t. I hated every second of it! But I think we accomplished the mission, don’t you?” Turning your head and watching his profile as he reversed the car out of the parking space, you asked, “D’you want me to get the dress dry-cleaned and you can take it back to the store? I mean I’ve only had it on for a few hours and I managed not to spill anything down it.” He glanced over at you, a strange look in his eyes. “No, I don’t want you to clean it and return it. It’s yours to keep. And yes, we did achieve our goal.” He started driving away from the hotel, and you realised it was the wrong direction for your place. You’d never been to his apartment but had a feeling that’s where you were heading.

“Where are you going, Billy? I just want dropped off at home so I can get out of all of this and relax.” He laughed, and for some reason you thought he sounded a bit pissed off. “Ahh no, that’s not happenin’, sweetheart,” he said, looking across at you, eyes gleaming with something but you weren’t sure exactly what. Determination? Desire? “We’re headin’ to mine. And yeah, you’re gonna be gettin’ out of those clothes, don’t worry.” “Look, Billy,” you said, feeling a bit uneasy for some reason, “...we’re done here, okay? We’ve already slept together, you got what you wanted so now you move on, correct? That’s your usual M.O. isn’t it? You made that obvious this week. Don’t worry, I got the message loud and clear. I’m not some clingy desperate woman that’s gonna keep chasing after you. I knew what the deal was with you the minute I set eyes on you. So.... just turn around and take me home.” You’d been staring at the road ahead but were aware of him shaking his head, “No.” You looked across at him, “No? What, you’re kidnapping me now?” “You can think of it that way if you like, sweetheart. I knew you’d think I was avoidin’ you this week, but I wasn’t. I’m not ready to let you get away just yet. We’re gonna go to mine, and you’re gonna spend the night on your back - and in various other positions - cos I need another night of sex with you.”

“And what if that’s not what I want? What if I don’t want to be used like a fuck toy before you disappear over the horizon? Doesn’t it matter to you what I want?” He chuckled, and you felt a little shiver of fear run through you, “Not right now, no. Because this is all I’ve been thinkin’ about the whole week. And because you’re sayin’ one thing, but you mean another.” “Really?! That’s what you think?” you scoffed, shaking your head, “You’re unbelievable, you know that? The level of arrogance....!” He pulled the car over into the inside lane and then turned into an underground car park. He killed the engine, and in the sudden silence you heard him say in a low voice, “Call it arrogance if you like. I call it knowing what I want and makin’ sure I get it.” He released his seat belt and got out of the car, coming round and opening your door before taking hold of your arm and pulling you out of it. He locked the car with a bleep of the remote on his keychain, then dragged you - firmly but not roughly - over to an elevator which he unlocked with a key before calling it down. Once it arrived, he hustled you inside and once the doors closed, his mouth was instantly on yours. He kissed you roughly, open-mouthed with teeth and lips and tongue all involved. His hands were undoing the buttons on your coat and then were inside it, immediately going to your breasts.

You struggled with him, trying to push him off but he continued kissing you, and you heard his voice telling you to just admit you wanted it. The awful thing was, you did want him and it annoyed the hell out of you. However his current attitude was also annoying the hell out of you so you continued to push at his muscled, toned body to get him off you. But you were no match for the ex-Marine and you heard a ‘ting’ and the elevator doors opening as Billy continued to kiss and grope you. He pushed you firmly out of the lift, keeping hold of your arm and propelling you towards a door - the only door, you noticed - and then into the apartment after he unlocked the door. He slammed it behind him then was on you in a flash, grabbing your bag and throwing it onto the sofa before stripping off your coat and dropping it on the floor. You were aware of being in a large open-plan space with floor-to-ceiling windows and trendy furniture, before you were scooped up as easily as if you were a throw cushion and carried into an equally large bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him and dumped you rather unceremoniously on the bed, stripping his clothes off in a matter of seconds and letting them fall where they may. Then he was back on you, flipping you over and unzipping your dress in one quick motion. He stripped it down off your shoulders, turned you back over and pulled it off you. You looked up at him, finally finding your voice, “Billy! Stop it.” He shook his head, “Nah, not happenin’ sweetheart. We’re gonna have sex now.” You opened your mouth but nothing would come out. Why couldn’t you say anything else?

Because you do want it, said a sly voice in your head. And whilst the caveman routine might not be the most appealing of Billy’s wooing techniques, he’d excited you beyond belief and you could feel how damp your panties were. You’d told yourself before the evening started that you weren’t going to have sex with him that night, but at the same time had perversely hoped that it would in fact happen. You were absolutely furious with yourself but at the same time, totally conflicted and unable to ignore the desire you felt for him.

You felt his fingers fumbling a bit at your back and then your bra was dramatically whipped off and thrown across the room. His mouth and hands were immediately on your breasts, fingers massaging and toying with one nipple while he licked the other, his tongue roughly raking over its peak and surrounding skin before he started to suck and bite at it, enough to make you squeal but not hard enough to cause you real pain. Then he swapped and your other breast came in for the same treatment. You felt his fingers sliding down your body and pulling at your panties, after a few seconds he then sat up and stripped them off you. They also joined your bra across the other side of the room. He lowered himself onto you, hands parting your legs and you knew he was guiding himself inside you. His hard length pushed into you and you felt the stretch much more than you had the first time you’d had sex with him. Of course he was in a more of a rush this time, seemingly desperate to have sex with you, judging by the way he’d thrown you down, ripped your clothes off and immediately got between your legs.

He slid his hands under your knees and lifted your legs up until your ankles were on his shoulders, deeply thrusting into you as he did so, and you heard yourself give a loud groan. He gave a long, low groan himself as he picked up his pace, and you heard his whispered words next to your ear, “You like that, sweetheart? Feel good?” “Yes!!!!!” you gasped, hating yourself for admitting it but it was the absolute truth. He kissed you passionately, hands running up and down your legs and onto your body as he thrust hard into you, mouth moving to your neck and collarbone, nipping at your skin then licking where he’d lightly bitten you. You climaxed first, Billy’s thumb having found its favourite place on your clit, and you’d dug your nails into his shoulders before running your hands up into his hair and pulling it. Hearing his answering chuckle, his hips cannoned into yours a final few times before you felt him release into you, and he sank down heavily on top of you, panting and trying to get his breath back. He moved off you and laid on his back, seemingly exhausted by his over-eager exertions. His head tilted towards you, “I’m not finished with you yet, sweetheart. Need more.”

You propped yourself up on an elbow, “Just what the fuck is all this neanderthal stuff about, Billy?” He sighed and looked back up at the ceiling. “Remember you said I wouldn’t know what a relationship was if it bit me on the ass?” “Yeah?” “You’re right. I’ve never experienced a loving relationship in my life. I dunno what love is, really.” Then out it all spilled.... his abandonment as a very young kid, the group homes, the abuse, the stigma. How he’d signed up for the Marines as soon as he was old enough, got a business degree before shipping out, how Frank had his back almost from day one. The dark eyes eventually looked into yours, “So just confirmin’ - I’m officially shit at relationships.” You nodded thoughtfully, “Well... now I understand things a little bit better, Billy. You discard women after a very short time as a self-defence measure, because you have a fear of being abandoned again. Ditch them before they can ditch you, right? Because you still have self-esteem issues, deep down underneath that confident exterior. It’s hard to overcome years of being looked down upon and sidelined.” You reached out and ran your fingers through his small patch of chest hair. He flinched slightly so you withdrew your hand, but his own hand went out and he laid it on top of yours for a brief moment.

Then he sat up a bit and stretched, laughing as he did so, “Told you, you’re in the wrong job, sweetheart.” He leaned back onto the pillows, carefully looking away from you, “Guess I didn’t do a very good job of lettin’ you know I want you to stay around and be with me?” You sat up, pulling one of the sheets over you, “What?” you asked. He looked over at you again, “All of this,” his hand waved vaguely between you and him, “This is me tryna let you know I really like you. I honestly missed bein’ with you during the week. An’ I was really busy, me and Frank, all week - I wasn’t tryna avoid you, okay? All I could think about was the night we spent together, how I want that to be a regular thing. Spend time with you.”

You started chuckling to yourself before it bubbled up into real laughter. He’d been looking down and fidgeting with the covers but now his head swung up and his eyebrows pulled into a frown. You calmed down a little and reached out to him, softly stroking his shoulder, “Billy... I’m not really laughing at you. Well, I suppose I am but only because I’m really surprised. That’s not how guys usually let girls know they’re interested! - kidnapping them and telling them that they will have sex with them.” Billy grunted, “Yeah, I realise that. It’s what I’m tryna tell you, sweetheart. I’m shit at this kinda stuff.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Sunday lunchtime, you met up with Karen who was gagging to know what had happened on Friday night. You dutifully recounted everything, even Billy’s metamorphosis into caveman as you left the hotel. Karen’s expression got more and more incredulous and as you drew to a close with his admission of being completely crap at all things relationship-related, she finally said, “Fuck! That’s unbelievable. So how did you leave things? You kick him to the curb?”

You took a sip of your G&T, and smiled back at her, “He wants me to teach him what a real relationship is all about.”

“And you’re prepared to take a chance on him and show him, are you?” You nodded, “Yeah I guess I am, Karen. I know it sounds crazy, but he wants to try. And I’d like to try. So we went from fake to genuine as of Friday night.”

She chuckled, shaking her head and sipping her drink before saying, “Well, you’re a glutton for punishment, I’ll say that for you. And I wish you the best of luck trying to tame that bad boy.” She lifted her glass and you clinked yours against hers, “Thanks, Karen. I’m just gonna take it one day at a time. If it doesn’t work out...” you shrugged, “...at least I gave it a shot.” She put her hand over yours, “Do you think he’ll keep it in his pants? He’s used to putting it about all over town,” squeezing your hand, “...sorry to have to say that honey, but it’s true.” You nodded, “Yeah I know, and all I can say is he’s promised he won’t be doing that from now on. But if I get even a whiff of another woman’s perfume off him, I will be kicking him to the curb faster than he can say ‘it’s not what you think, sweetheart’, believe me! And I’ve told him that too, in no uncertain terms.” She nodded, “Well, you’ve given him fair warning so if he fucks up, that’s definitely on him.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Frank threw his head back, giving a great belly laugh which went on for a lot longer than Billy Russo thought it should do. After a few moments, Frank’s face had gone beet red and tears were squeezing out of the corners of his eyes. Billy folded his arms across his chest, sitting back in the diner booth and scowling at Frank, “Okay, okay, Frankie - enough already,” he grumbled as Frank continued to laugh. Eventually Frank calmed down enough to speak, “Russo! I don’t believe it, I really don’t. Does that girl know what she’s letting herself in for?! She must be missing a few rounds out of her ammo clip.” Billy pulled a face, “Look... I like her, okay? She’s gonna teach me what a proper relationship’s like. She’s willin’ to give me a chance, so cut me some slack over here, will ya?” Frank took a big pull at his beer, “Oh Russo, how the fuck ya gonna keep it in your pants?” (unknowingly parroting Karen’s very same comment to her friend). Billy shrugged, “Look...I will, I tell ya. I mean it, I only want her. The sex is....” he made a chef’s kiss hand gesture, “....and she doesn’t take any of my shit, either. I really like her, Frankie. I think I’m ready to...” “Settle down? Really, Bill - are you? Cos if you fuck this up, you’ve got Karen to deal with as well as your girl.”

Billy took a hit of his beer, “You think I don’t know that? And I’d get a ton of crap from you too, cos Karen’d be upset. You like her, dontcha?” Frank’s cheeks went a slight shade of pink, “Well, yeah. I guess I do.” Now it was Billy’s turn to laugh, “You guess you do? Frankie, you’re like a teenager with a major crush every time your phone rings! ‘Ooh, it’s Karen!’” he said, the last bit in a high-pitched voice. “I do not talk like that!” Frank growled at him, “And you better spend your energy learning how to treat a woman properly, rather than ripping the shit outta me, Russo!”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your phone dinged and you picked it up, seeing a text notification from Billy on the screen. Turning your phone briefly towards Karen to show her this, you clicked on it and then smiled as you read it. Showing the message to her, she also smiled, “Wow, seems like he’s definitely trying!” You agreed, “I do believe he is!” Maybe this crazy relationship thing you and Billy had agreed to embark on did have a chance of working out after all. You definitely still had your misgivings - does a leopard (or panther) really change its spots? - but you were willing to give it a try as long as Billy stuck to his end of the bargain. No other women, no lying, spending a lot of quality time together... let’s just see how all that goes, you thought. Re-reading the text, it made you smile once more.

Billy’s text said simply, “I’m missing you, sweetheart. Come over to mine, I’ll cook you dinner.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

(My photo edit)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Tags: @blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry

(Using D&D’s taglist, if you’d prefer to be removed, just let me know!)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[atlabeth]

neighborly things - sokka x fem!reader

summary: reader can’t make things for shit. thankfully, she has a cute and crafty neighbor willing to help her. 

a/n: im so sorry lmao. i have requests and i have 2 series that havent been updated in like a month but sometimes i just need to write a stupid little oneshot to get back in the writing mood. i did this in an hour 

im not a screwdriver expert so dont come at me if some of this info is wrong lmao 

wc: 1.6k 

warning(s): some cursing but otherwise pure fluff. also i didnt proofread im SORRY im pretty sure they laugh grin and smile like 200 times 

-

“Dammit!” 

 Anyone unfortunate enough to have a place near you during this time would have heard the phrase on more than twenty occasions, and it wasn’t even noon yet. You had gotten the parts in the mail to put together a new dresser a couple days ago, and had finally decided to take on the task. You didn’t know if it was because you were inexperienced with furniture or just lacked basic comprehension skills, but it was proving to be no less than Herculean. 

 You threw the screwdriver at the wall and fell back to the floor as you let your arms sprawl out above you. You had been trying to screw in a part for no less than thirty minutes, and if a miracle didn’t happen right about now, you were going to lose your mind. 

Your head snapped towards the door when she heard a knock, and your brows creased. “God?” You muttered as you got up, wondering if you had actually thought a miracle into existence. 

 You weren’t greeted by a deity when you opened the door, but the man standing in front of you was pretty damn close. With ocean blue eyes, hair pulled back in a ponytail with shaved sides, and toned arms, he was a sight to behold. But you had no idea why he was in front of your door. 

 “Hey, are you okay?” He questioned, genuine concern in his tone. 

 “Um, yeah, why?” You were trying to rack your brain for any memory of this guy — because you knew you would remember him if you had seen him before — but to no avail. “Also, who are you and why are you here?”

 “Right,” he chuckled. “My name’s Sokka. I’m your neighbor; I live—” he gestured at the door just next to your place, “—over there. Moved in a couple weeks ago, so that’s probably why you don’t know me. I’ve just been hearing a lot of cursing and loud noises coming from your place, so I figured I would stop in and see what was going on.” 

 “Oh. That’s.. very considerate of you, Sokka. I’m just…” you sighed and chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. “I’m just trying to put together a dresser, and it’s not going well at all. That latest sound you heard was the culmination of my rage. I threw a screwdriver at the wall.” 

 “Yeah, that’ll do it,” he laughed. “Listen. I don’t wanna intrude on you or anything, but I happen to be pretty good at putting things together. I had to do a lot of furniture construction when I first moved in, plus I’m the one all my friends call when they need help with putting anything together. I could probably help you with whatever’s troubling you.”  

 “Are you serious?” 

 “Oh, no. I just go door to door joking around with people, asking if they need help with their furniture, sometimes I ask if their refrigerator is running? It really gets a kick out of them.” 

 You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly and stepped aside so he could enter your apartment. “Thank you so much, Sokka. I’ve read the instructions a million times, I seriously don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” 

 He crouched down and picked up the manual, turning to a dog-eared page and skimming over the instructions. He pointed at the screwdriver you had thrown against the wall and glanced back at you. “Is that the one you’ve been using?” 

 You closed and locked the door behind him then walked over to the wall, picking up the unfortunate victim of your anger and spinning it in your hands. “Yeah, why?” 

 “Do you know what kind it is?” 

 “Um.. maybe? God, I don’t know. I think it’s a Phillip’s head?” 

 Sokka laughed and shook his head, holding up the manual so you could see it. “That’s where you’re going wrong. You need a Pozidriv for these screws — they’re similar enough that anyone can make a mistake.”

 You stared at Sokka in complete amazement — apparently, your savior lived next door, and he came in the form of a handsome guy with basic knowledge on putting furniture together. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you said as you walked over and took the booklet from himl. You flipped through it a couple times and read over the part, shaking your head in disbelief. 

 “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” you repeated, louder this time. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get that thing to- to work, to screw, to— whatever you call it?” 

 “It’s actually to—”

 “Thirty minutes!” You interrupted, earning a small chuckle from Sokka. “Thirty damn minutes that I have been trying to get that screw in, and it’s all because I was using the wrong screwdriver. Why would they make screwdrivers that are so similar but aren’t interchangeable?!” 

 He shrugged and held up his hands. “Don’t ask me — I don’t make the rules, I just follow them. But like I said; this dresser might fall apart if you keep using this thing. I actually have a Pozidriv back at my place, I can go get it and we can finish this up together.” 

 “God, that would be the biggest help,” you admitted. “But I don’t wanna take up your time — I don’t know how I would even repay you.” 

 “I’m doing this because I want to help you,” he said. “You don’t have to repay me. Think of it as… as a neighborly thing.” 

 “A neighborly thing?” you repeated with a laugh. “Well, if you’re offering, I’m definitely not going to refuse.” 

 “I am offering,” Sokka winked. “And unless you want to be at this for another three days, I think you should take that offer.” 

 You pretended to deliberate over it before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’ll let you help me. I mean, really you should be thanking me for this brilliant opportunity to, um.. hone your skills.” 

 He laughed, a brilliant sound that made your heart sing, and nodded as he went back to the door. “Thank you so much for letting me put together this dresser. Truly, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

 “Then I’m happy to be of assistance.” 

 Sokka grinned then unlocked and opened the door. “I’ll be right back, then we can get started.”

 -

 Once he got back, the two of you got to work. The next three hours passed so quickly as you and Sokka talked about everything from the work you did to people in your lives (no girlfriend, thankfully), to exchanging stories — even the silence, though rare, was comfortable. 

 Sokka pushed the last drawer into its place then clapped his hands as he stood up, admiring the fruits of your labor. “And that’s it! We’re done.”

 “Wait, we’re done? Already?” You set down the instruction manual and stood up as well, backing up to Sokka’s position to see what he saw. “Wow, that looks.. that looks just like the picture. We are good at this! Well, you’re really good at this, I’m good at keeping you entertained. But still!” 

 You held your hand up for a high five and he laughed, but not without meeting it with a satisfying clap. 

 “It does look pretty good,” he admitted. “And not only do you have a brand new, fully functioning dresser, you also had the priceless experience of spending three hours with the neighbor you know nothing about.” 

 “That’s not true,” you countered. “I know that you’re really good at putting things together, you’re a genius when it comes to anything math or science, and you hate blueberries.” 

 Sokka snickered and brushed his hands off on his jeans. “That’s everything there is to know.” 

 “I dunno, Sokka. You seem like a pretty interesting guy.”

 “Really?”

 “Yeah. It’s not every day that someone offers to put together a whole dresser just because they feel bad.”

 “Well—” he tore off a blank part of the instruction manual and picked up a spare pen from the counter, then put it up against the wall as he scribbled something on it. Sokka put the pen down and handed the slip of paper to you with a smile. “If you ever need any more help with furniture, then call me.” 

 You could feel your cheeks heat up as you took the paper. Your fingers brushed ever so slightly as you took the slip of paper, and you decided to just go for it. You bit back a grin and tried to sound as innocuous as possible. “And if I want to get to know you beyond the blueberries?” 

 Sokka laughed and leaned against the doorframe. “Definitely call me.”  

 “Great.” 

 The two of you smiled at each other like idiots for way too long before a notification from his phone broke the silence. He jumped from the sudden noise and dug his phone out of his pocket, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, my sister just texted me and I gotta get over to her place.” Sokka started towards the door then paused and turned around. “I actually had a lot of fun doing this, though. I’ll see you around, yeah?” 

 “Yeah.” You knew you had that same smile on your face, but it just wouldn’t go away. His energy was contagious. “Definitely.” 

 “Great.” He winked at you one last time then left, closing the door behind him, and finally snapping you out of your spell. 

 You leaned against the dresser and stared at the slip of paper in your hands, committing the number to memory. 

 You were definitely going to take him up on that offer. 

-

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin​