#that if i was uncomfortable with what was going on i needed to just shut up and live with it

[wosospacegirl]

Sun, Sand, and Shenanigans - Arsenal teen!r x Ibiza version

Summary: Arsenal heads to Ibiza for vacation, and Y/n is already plotting all the chaos she can cause.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: just team banter!!!

Masterlist here

..

The Emirate Stadium was sold out. Hundreds of people had come by to watch The Arsenal women’s final and most important day match of the season. It was a hard game, as it always was when they played against Chelsea.

Chelsea scored first, with  Cuthbert finding the net in the first half. In the second half, Beth scored. 1-1. Then Alessia. 2-1.

The referee blew the whistle. 90 minutes. The game was over and Arsenal had won the Women's Super League against their biggest rival at home. They’d done it. 

And that’s how the whole Arsenal team was flying private to Ibiza. The club had awarded the team with a two-week stay in one of Ibiza’s nicest resorts. To say Y/n and the other girl were over-excited would be unnecessary. 

Some girls, like Y/n, had never been to Ibiza before, while others–especially the Lionesses– were already familiar with the Mediterranean island.

Leah was in the window seat with earphones on, head resting on her chin as she watched the clouds pass by.  Beth was in the aisle seat, while Y/n was squished in the middle, in between the two senior players.

Y/n was more excited than ever. She had never been on a big vacation before—only taking planes for games or to visit her parents. Now, she had two whole weeks with nothing to worry about except beaches and getting a suntan.

Y/n still had school to do, but since it was all online and honestly, she wasn’t too concerned about it. All that mattered to her right now was the vacation the team had ahead of them was her biggest concern now. Y/n was eager to get to the resort, foot tapping against the plane’s grey flooring, a smile displayed on the young girl’s face.

“Can't you stop grinding?” Leah complained suddenly, taking off her earphones and turning to look at Y/n.  “You're bothering me.” 

Y/n looked at her confused. “Bothering you? I haven't said anything!” 

“It can feel you bouncing next to me, it's shaking my seat, bro,” Leah rolled her eyes, crossing her arms.

Leah, the Arsenal captain was a sweetheart when she wanted to; right now she wasn’t.

“You’re the one who chose to sit next to me—quote, unquote—‘to keep an eye on me.” Y/n sassed.

“Yeah, that was before I knew you weren't aware of how to properly behave on a plane!” Leah argued back. 

“Damn calm down! I'm just happy. It's not my fault you feel miserable all the time!” Y/n said. “Some would think a captain would know how to deal with their players!” Y/n complained in a mumble barely audible.

“Oh, sweetheart until we get back to London I'll be just Leah. No captain. No, Williamson. Just Leah,” she said, smiling dreamingly as if she had been waiting to put the captain’s armband on hold. “So shut it.” She added dryly, the smile vanishing from her face.

Leah wanted just for once to feel like a normal player on the team. Not the captain, not the responsible one, not the poster woman of Arsenal. She just wanted to be Leah. And if the girls behaved well, she could! Just for two weeks. She just needed to relax for two whole weeks and then she could go back to being a kick-ass captain.

“Oh my god will both of you shut up?” Beth said and Yn and Leah continued with the bickering. The blonde was wearing a beauty mask, a very ugly one. “ We are going on a vacation here. I'm trying to relax!”

“For fuck's sake what do you have on your face?” Leah asked horrified as she turned to Beth. “And when did you put it on?” 

“It's a beauty mask! Airplane air makes my face dry," Beth explained. “This,” she pointed at her face, “will keep it hydrated.”

“There's no such thing as airplane air, Beth! Don't be ridiculous now,” Leah stared at The Mask as if it would attack her any second. “It is making me uncomfortable.”

“Viv wouldn’t mind my mask if she was here,” Beth said, tilting her chin up.

“If Viv was here she would feel disrespected by this thing on your face.” Kim, the vice-captain, said stoically. “Take it off Bethany, you look foolish.

“It's the same colour as vomit, too” Y/n added mysteriously, leaning closer to Beth to inspect the mask. “And it has a smell to it too–”,  Y/n sniffed it before plucking her nose. “Ew Beth! Take it off, it smells like vomit!”

“What!? No, it doesn't!” Beth defended her mask, crossing her arms.

“What is that smell?” Someone said a few seats over. “Did someone puke? Should we call the flight attendant?”

The voice belonged to Steph. She stood up from her seat and started searching for the source of the smell as if she were a hound dog throughout the rows of seats.

“Was it you, Kyra?” Steph asked, looking at where her fellow Australian was sitting. Kyra, Alessia and Vic were sitting two rows ahead of Y/n, deeply focused on a game of UNO.

“What? No, Steph, it wasn't me!” Kyra said defensively looking up from her cards. “The smell is coming from back there,” she pointed to where Y/n, Beth and Leah were seated.

Beth rolled her eyes and Leah put her earphones back on. Guess the captain wasn't captaining anymore.

Kyra, Alessia and Vic turned around, their head the only thing peeking from over their seat.

“Bethy, what is that?” Vic asked, mimicking Leah's horrified face from just a moment ago.

“Oh for fucks sake!” Beth huffed, taking out the beauty mask rather aggressively and throwing it on the little trash bag in front of her. “There. It's gone, are you guys happy now?” 

The plane was silent for a few moments. 

“We should probably throw it out of the windows, It still smells horrible here,” Y/n broke the silence. 

“Agree!” Kyra said.

Murmurs of ‘yeah’ and ‘get it out of here!’ filled the plane's walls as if they all had started a coup against Beth, which in a way, they did.

“Kill me now,” Beth murmured, putting her hands on her face dramatically.

“Great, let me call the flight attendant then,” Steph said eagerly, smiling. “I wanted to talk to her about what would happen if the plane fell into the ocean anyway!”

 Stephe quickly walked down the aisle to the staff’s headquarters.

The smile on Y/n's face dropped. “Is Steph ok?”

“She's a bit scared of flights,” Kyra explained. “But she feels safe with the flight attendants, though.” 

“Yeah, Steph always takes sleeping pills before flying,” Caitlin added, with a  sleeping McCabe on her shoulder. “She didn’t this time.”

“Why hasn't she taken them?” Alessia asked worriedly. “She looked rather nervous.”

“Kyra thought it would be funny to hide the pills from Steph,” Caitlin answered, raising an eyebrow at Kyra. “And then she forgot where she put the pills herself.”

Everybody laughed but Caitlin.

“Hey, I already told her I'm sorry!” Kyra whined.

Turns out Steph was afraid of flying because the flight attendant had to bring her to her seat and teach the woman some breathing exercises in order to Steph calm down. 

But in the end, the flight was smooth, filled with laughter and banter from the team, Before y/n noticed, she had already stepped off the plane, Ibiza’s air softly touching her face,

It was sunny and warm when the team arrived at the Dourado resort in Ibiza, the Mediterranean weather was already affecting Y/n’s mood, and not just hers, but everybody as well.  She even swore she watched Leah smile.

The whole team was bound to have a great time.

The girls got to the reception to check-in. A pile of suitcases and bags in the resort’s lobby was already formed. People could see from miles away they were a big tourist group. 

“Good morning and welcome to The Dourado,” said the old man on the desk, a kind smile on his face. “Can you please give me your full name and reservation number?”

“Katie McCabe and Caitlin Foord, number 2243—”

“María Francesca Caldentey Oliv–”

“It’s Y/n, Y-O-U-R  F-U-L-L  N-A-M-E” 

“Victoria Pelova, Victoria with a C, not a K–”

Everybody started talking at the same time, a mess of words and spelling of names filled the poor receptionist’s desk. The kind man looked terrified and an apologetic look on his face. “I’m sorry, would you ladies form a line and tell me individually about your reservation?”

Kim Little, noticing the mess, stepped closer to the group gathered up on the receptionist's desk. “Sho you all, don’t you know how to behave? How to wait for your turn?” she lectured the women, her brow furrowed. 

Kim turned to Leah, who was sitting in the lounge, not too far from the reception, a drink already in her hand.  “A little help here, mate?”

“Nah, I’m not the captain for the next two weeks,” Leah smirked, taking a sip of her drink.

Kim rolled her eyes and mumbled. “Great, that’s great.”

The vice-captain organized the team in a way they were already paired with the person they were sharing a room with, making it easier to check in. Kim was reading the pairing out loud from a list she had printed. Where Kim could possibly have printed it? Y/n had no idea.

“Okay, McCabe and Foord first, room number 45,” Kim read, letting the couple take a step to the reception, do their check-in and finally take the elevator to get situated in their room. “Next it’s Beth and Steph, room 46.”

When Kim finished reading it, the lobby was empty, having left only Y/n, Leah and Kim herself.

Y/n had a plan to share a room with either Vic, Less, Kyra or even Lotte, she was sure the girls wouldn't mind her tagging along with them during their trip, and the surly wouldn't be fussing over her about school, or telling her to be responsible and mindful.

“Okay kid, you are rooming up with Leah,” Kim said, not taking her eyes off the list.

“With Leah?” Y/n gasped, dropping her bag to the floor dramatically. “Why?!”

“Cause we are in an odd number and I–” Kim pointed at herself, “–don’t want to share with anyone.” Kim smiled.

“Does Leah know she’s sharing a room with me?” Y/n asked, looking at where Leah was sitting; the blonde was now talking with a woman and–oh my god! Leah was flirting with the women?!

Gross, Leah. Y/n thought. So gross.

“No, but she said she’s not on captain duty while we’re in Ibiza, so she won’t get captain privileges either,” Kim explained, dryly. “Now pick up your bag! Don’t leave your things lying around.”

Y/n obeyed, picking up her belongings and following Kim to the elevator. It was a quick trip until they reached their floor. It looked like the whole team would be staying on the fourth floor of the resort. 

“This is your room key,” Kim said as they stopped in front of door number 49, handing Y/n a tag. “Now you get situated, undo your suitcase and please don’t set the room on fire, I bet Leah will be up in any minute now,” 

Y/n opened the door with the tag, feeling Kim’s hands pushing her inside the room. “Hey! Why are you pushing me!” Y/n asked angrily. 

“Because I’m tired of babysitting duties,” Kim rolled her eyes, forcing Y/n to take one more step into the room. “The faster you are in your room, safe and sound, the faster I can get to the sauna.” 

Y/n’s eyes sparkled, her hands pressing together on her chest. “Sauna?! There is a sauna here? I always wanted to go to one,” She said enthusiastically.

“They only allow 18 and older, sorry,” Kim said, not sounding sorry at all.

“Fuck off,” Y/n said, throwing herself on one of the two single beds.

“Glady!” Kim said before closing the door on her way out.

Y/n decided to be a better person than she was yesterday, so she put the procrastination aside and undid her suitcase and her bag. She carefully put her clothes, shoes and toiletries inside the only wardrobe in the wrong, not caring to leave Leah enough space to put her things.

Maybe Y/n would try to be a better person tomorrow, not today.

After what felt like hours, Y/n was finally done. She found time to explore her room. The room was very beachy, with off-white, light blue and yellow undertones on both furniture and decorations. The bathroom was big, with a shower and a bathtub. 

The room also had a beautiful balcony, where she could watch the beach and the pool. It felt like the beach was waiting for her. Tomorrow, she would go to the beach, even if the other girls didn’t want to.

While Y/n was enjoying the view from the balcony, the door to the room opened and Leah came in, but not alone. She was accompanied by the woman from the lounge, holding her.

“What the fuck!” Leah cursed, letting go of the woman’s hand as she saw Y/n. “What are you doing here?” 

Y/n winded her eyes by the sudden disruption of her ‘me time’. “What is she doing here?” Y/na asked, pointing at the woman next to Leah. “Oh my god! Did you bring someone into our room, bro? That's weird!” Y/n whined.

“I-I’m sorry Leah, I’ll just go now,” The woman said embarrassed, leaving the room before Leah could say goodbye.

Y/n looked at Leah with a judge-like expression.

“I didn’t know this was our room, I thought I wouldn’t be sharing with anyone, just like last time,” Leah explained angrily, referring to when Arsenal played in Australia and Leah stayed in a room by herself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you would be here.”

“You were so ready to get laid, though,” Y/n teased, watching as Leah sat on her bed.

“I was, and you ruined it,” Leah said, sounding disappointed. “But it’s alright.  Guess we’ll have to make do with this arrangement.” 

“You sound so miserable,” Y/n pointed out.

“I am,” Leah sighed. “Sharing a room with an annoying teenager wasn’t the way I expected this trip to go,” The blonde explained, rolling her eyes.

“And sharing a room with a creep who keeps sneaking people into my room wasn’t the way I wanted this trip to go either, you know,” Y/n said, matter-of-factly.

Y/n’s laughter filled the room as Leah threw a pillow at her face, which made them start a pillow fight.

“Okay, stop it now,” Y/n said between laughs, after being smacked in the head rather hard. “We need to set some ground rules,” she said.

Leah widened her eyes. “Look at you talking about rules! I didn’t know you were a fan of rules,” The blond said sarcastically.

“I don’t like rules, I just don’t want to walk in on you or something like that,” Y/n added teasingly, laughing as Leah’s face flushed.

Y/n had two jobs in this world: 1. playing football, and 2. being a pest to each and every one of the girls on the team. Right now, Leah is her primary victim. 

“Will you ever drop it?” Leah asked annoyingly.

“Nope!” Y/n said, in a playful voice.

“First rule then: you start having some respect for your captain,” Leah said, almost as if challenging Y/n.

Y/n laughed. “Oh, back at being the captain?”

“Yeah, kid, guess I am.” Leah said, “I thought Ibiza would be a relaxing trip, but now that I’m rooming with you, I’m not so sure.” 

“You sound like I’ve already done something wrong, I’ve been behaving perfectly since I got here,” Y/n said proudly, chin up. 

“Oh, but I know you’ll get in trouble,” Leah pointed at her eyes, then at Yn’s eyes. “I’m watching you,”

“Now be good and help your senior unpack,” Leah added, pointing at her huge suitcase.

“You wish!” Y/n said, already heading to the door. “Lotte and I are going to that coffee shop downstairs, you have fun with your suitcase, though!”

Y/n didn’t hear Leah’s complaint because she was already out of the room.

She was sure Ibiza would be the best experience of her life so far. She was sure of it!

..

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[katyaromanoffpetrova]

A deceitful Valentine's

It's Valentine's Day and Natasha is on a mission. Katya won't let the day pass by without seeing her.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC (Katya Petrova) • Wordcount: 1.9k • Warnings: sexual talk (they're horny lesbians) •A/N: not proofread because it's 1AM and i'm tired :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

''No, I'm not helping you so you can fuck each other's brains out in a hotel room. Or whatever it is that you lesbians do.''

''Wow,'' Katya breathed, an amused smile lingering on her lips as she watched her appalled friend shake his head. ''I thought you were a romantic.''

''Me?'' Clint scoffed, shuffling through the papers on his messy desk. He hadn't been able to look at her since she asked her question, a red tint on his cheeks. Obviously, it made him uncomfortable. Katya loved making men uncomfortable. ''Valentine's Day is a ridiculous product of capitalism, created to make us spend more money on things we don't need.''

Katya hummed knowingly, placing her hands on his desk. ''Is that why you bought Laura that perfume she's been obsessed with for months? And, oh, what is this?'' With a smirk, she plucked a Valentine's card from underneath a stack of papers on his desk. 

Swift like a cobra, Clint snatched it from her hand before she could open it. His cheeks burned as he stashed the red and pink paper deep in a desk drawer, slamming it shut loudly. ''You Russian dickheads need to stay out of my business,'' he grumbled. Natasha had been sitting next to him when he ordered that perfume, and while he thought he'd been sneaky, obviously she saw. And then told Katya.

The brunette had to fight off a malicious laugh, in the depths of her element. ''Hm… Natalia will be thrilled to hear about that card.'' She tilted her head, pursing her lips as she pretended to think hard. ''What did it read on the front, again? 'A man like me has a lot to be thankful for'?'' 

''Okay, okay!'' Clint looked like he was about to scream in frustration, slamming the papers in his hands down. He knew she was completely serious in her threats—she would tell Natasha. But Katya could keep a secret if he helped her out. ''Fine, I'll help with your plan.'' He pointed a warning finger at her. ''But if I face serious consequences because I tempered with an agent's mission, it's your responsibility.''

''Absolutely.'' Katya nodded sternly, her eyebrows knitted together. ''I'll tell them I blackmailed you with a Valentine's Day card.''

Spotting the amused glint in her eyes, Clint shook his head with exasperation. One of these days, either Katya or Natasha was going to cause him a mental breakdown because they were just so good at emotional manipulation. ''You need serious help,'' he muttered, grabbing his laptop.

~~~~

The hotel bar wasn't too busy. Most people were still enjoying their late dinner or were spending the evening with their lover, holed up in a bedroom. Natasha had seen enough of them today; couples. It's the one day of the year where people suddenly seem to remember to show affection to their partners. Dinners, movies, gifts—they were all talking about the same things, all day.

She didn't really care about Valentine's Day as a holiday. Sure, she and Katya bought a little something for each other, and tried to do something together if they got the chance to—not including the evening sex, of course—but she did it because it made Katya happy. Natasha was a moreso a believer of showing her appreciation all year 'round. Leaving a sweet note, taking her out for dinner, planning a movie night with snacks, running Katya a bath, giving her a massage. 

But Natasha would be lying if she said that she didn't miss her a little more today. This mission had been dragging on for three weeks. And while she had hoped to be home tonight, she was sitting in a five star hotel's fancy bar, all dressed up, sipping on her Dirty Martini, because Clint had given her new intel. Seducing a man, of all things, when she had a sexy, attractive woman waiting for her at home, must be the universe's type of karma. 

Lazily, she stirred her drink, seeing the bartender move around in her peripheral vision. The stools beside her were empty, the atmosphere calm; soft, classical music playing in the background. It was boring. Clint didn't say what time her target's ''business associate'' would arrive. She could be sitting there for hours. Her mind wasn't as focused as it should be, her thoughts drifting away from her.

It took her a moment too long to realize that somebody was sitting down on her left, gracefully settling down on the high stool with a quiet rustle. There was a flash of red silk, and then a whiff of a deep, sensual perfume. 

Natasha stiffened, her body already knowing what her mind didn't want to believe yet. Slowly, from the corner of her eye, she looked her neighbor up and down, her gaze lingering on their chest and exposed neck. It was the most elegant, exquisite picture she'd ever seen, the red silk dress draping around her figure like liquid. Most of her back was exposed, a decent amount of cleavage showing while the fabric ran all the way to her ankles in loose waves, accentuating the curves Natasha could draw with her eyes closed. 

This was the type of woman men used to go to war for.

Natasha's heart started to race in her chest. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath as she averted her eyes forward again, fighting to keep her cool. Preferably, she'd rip that dress off her body right here, right now, but she had a mission to run. Although she was starting to get an inkling that she might have been misled. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Would you like something to drink, ma'am?" The bartender had materialized in front of them.

Katya smiled charmingly and placed her clutch on the bar. "A Vodka-Martini, please."

''Coming right up.''

Natasha followed the man with her eyes as he walked off to make her order. Next to her, Katya casually touched up her lipstick. Fuck, it was her favorite. "I'm assuming there's no "business associate" I'm meeting tonight?"

"I thought you'd rather have me instead,'' Katya said, tapping at her lip with her ring finger. Her complete lack of fucks given about interrupting her mission and using Clint to lure her here with a lie was both annoying and amusing. Natasha wanted to be more pissed, but in reality, she was really happy to see her.

"You're not wrong, but I am supposed to be on duty around the clock."

"Screw the mission,'' Katya declared, tossing her lipstick and mirror back in her clutch before turning to face her girlfriend. She tilted her head, a smile on her perfectly kissable lips. ''It's Valentine's Day. We're not supposed to be apart."

Part of Natasha's brain wasn't working correctly. Katya's alluring appearance had hypnotized her. She wasn't sure if she wanted to sculpt her beauty into marble for all eternity to see, or worship her body all night until it was covered in drops of sweat. "So you sabotaged my mission because you missed me too much?" She smirked, finally giving in and turning her body in Katya's direction.

The brunette shrugged, something mischievous flashing across her face. "Maybe I'm just incredibly horny."

Caught off guard by her bold statement, Natasha nearly lost her composure. "Are you?" She mused, ignoring the twitch low in her stomach.

Instead of answering, Katya smirked confidently. "Are you?"

"Definitely." She couldn't lie—or joke—about the impact Katya had on her, her teasing demeanor fading into an intense, lustful one as she took the time to take in Katya's appearance once more. "You look fucking incredible," she muttered, noting how Katya shifted on her stool at the desire in her voice.

In that dress, she was an expensive, rich wine from France and Natasha was the alcoholic who hadn't had a drop in three weeks. It took every ounce of self-control to stay seated. Her throat was dry, her hands were itching. 

Reluctantly tearing her gaze away, Natasha reached for her drink and took a big sip. It didn't fix her burning throat, but the sensation brought her back to Earth. "Maybe I should leave more often so you can interrupt my missions looking like this," she joked.

Katya chuckled, slowly circling the rim of her Martini glass with her finger. "Or, you can take me out to dinner sometime, give me a reason to dress up." Her gaze met Natasha's. "Maybe to one of those posh restaurants where I would actually have to wear underwear to."

Natasha's fingers tightened around her glass, her wide eyes flickering to Katya's hips. "Baby…" Katya had prepared for this night to end one way, and with how she was working her up, Natasha knew it was going to be good. She smiled to herself, excitement flooding her veins. "I'm gonna buy Clint such a big bottle of Vodka when I get back."

"I don't think he's gonna be able to look at us for a while. It's pretty obvious what I was planning when I asked him to help us meet up. At night. In a hotel."

"Oh, yeah?" Natasha smirked.

Katya raised an eyebrow. "If I'm still able to walk out of here by myself tomorrow, I'm gonna make you pay for this dress."

Natasha chuckled, reaching out and slowly trailing her fingertips up Katya's arm. They left a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "How about this: I ruin your pretty makeup, your ability to walk, and I pay for the dress?"

"That better be a promise." Katya's lips held a daring smirk, her body still as Natasha's fingers had reached her collarbone. "My mascara is waterproof."

"Do you doubt me?" Natasha asked, her hand ghosting over Katya's throat. A shiver ran through the brunette's body as her pupils dilated. 

"I know you like to talk big."

Natasha pulled her hand away to place it over her heart. "Katariina, you're breaking my heart."

"I didn't know you had one to break," Katya mused.

"It's a little messed up, but it's yours."

Between all the flirting and sexual tension, this half-hearted, soft joke came out of nowhere. Katya had to take a second to switch around. "Where did you learn to sweet-talk like that?''

Natasha shrugged, turning away to take another sip of her drink. ''A place where I met this girl.''

Katya's smile turned knowingly, warmth swirling in her chest. She loved it whenever Natasha spoke about falling in love with her. ''There's always a girl."

''This one was special. She cared. And nobody had ever cared about me." Their eyes met. Natasha's started to sparkle with a amusement. "Oh, and she had the most beautiful blue eyes.''

Katya fought the urge to roll them. ''She sounds nice.''

''She's more than just nice." Placing a hand on her thigh, Natasha leaned in more with every word, until their faces were only inches apart. Her breath fanned over Katya's chin. "She's brave, and kind, and stunning, and so incredibly smart…''

A low hum fell from Katya's lips, her gaze flickering from the redhead's mouth to her eyes. Her heart raced in her chest. ''You're trying to get in my pants.''

''I thought you weren't wearing any.''

Katya smiled amusedly, her thigh tensing up when Natasha's hand started to creep higher. This was exactly how she hoped this night would go. ''So, how did things end with that girl?''

Her breath hitched when she caught the look on Natasha's face. So lustful. If all of that was going to be released tonight, then her girlfriend would for sure make good on her promise. 

Katya's stomach swirled heavy with anticipation as Natasha brought her mouth to her ear. ''With her underneath me, naked, in a hotel room, her pretty dress on the floor, screaming my name as I make her cum for the sixth time in one night.''

And then they have bed-breaking, wall-shaking, earth-shattering sex

A/N: Please consider reblogging if you liked this fic. It really helps me :)

[patchworkcuddlebug]

Weredoll: Alone

It all started with that toy. I know it had to.

I only touched it for a few seconds. God, I should've known. That pull, that imperceptible radiance, of course it was magic. But it just looked so... pretty. I didn't think twice, I just wanted a closer look, and I could feel the jolt through my system as soon as I curled my fingers around it. Magic.

It's the same feeling that was in the seashells that made my best friend a mermaid all those years ago, damning her to the sea. The same feeling as the fae that spirited away my mother's name.

Yes, they looked happy. But I always knew better. You can't abandon your humanity, you just... can't. You shouldn't be able to, you shouldn't want to. It's just wrong.

I spent the whole day frantic. Combing through forums and blogs, staring down at the listings for dubiously reliable books. If nothing happened in the moment, the only conclusions were a crawling slow-burn transformation that would take me piece by agonizing piece, or... something conditional.

The door to my room was locked. My bed was pushed out from the wall and put in the way of the door, just in case. Now all I can do is sit at my computer desk, eyes trapped in the corner of my laptop.

11:59. Any moment now I would find what fate I was cursed to. I'd spent long enough wracked by anxiety, the humanity in my soul clung to my body in terror. Now, there was nothing but a silent, helpless anticipation.

12:00.

I flinch as the number changes. I pat my body down, trying to find any hints to my curse. But I can't find anything. Everything as it should be. Warm to the touch, but not hot. Just enough give before skin squishes against bone.

I wanted to feel relief, but the confirmation just brought on a defeated emptiness. A sighing, accepting resignation to the alternative, or a confused...

...it's spreading. The emptiness. It isn't just emotional. There is a visceral feeling of removal slowly expanding from my body.

I tried to stand. My hand was on my stomach, like I was trying to feel the thing eating me from the inside. I feel the void overtake my gut, leaving me with a hollow and cavernous lack. There was no sense of hunger, my body failing to cry out with need as it should with an empty stomach. The feeling instead slotted into place, as if I was designed for it.

I try and walk to the mirror. Everything's off. My limbs are too heavy and my torso is too light. I lift my shirt up, and see the beginnings of a seam. There's a small indent that traces around the base of my ribs. Exactly like a ball jointed doll.

I feel sick. I feel faint. But more than anything, I feel empty.

I stumble to the bed and collapse. I can't keep myself upright, I can't muster the will. Fuck, this is really happening, isn't it? I don't care if it's just for the night. I don't want to let go, I can't. Being a person is all I've ever known. How could I not be scared?

My hands fumble along my side. I can feel myself hardening, the texture changing as I move upwards. The seam's already deepened, god knows how far, letting my rigid body—

A violent shudder overtakes me. I cough involuntarily. It's reached my heart.

I can't take my hand off it. The other desperately grabs my hair, trying to ground me, as I feel my heartbeat get weaker and weaker. I try breathing harder, invoking my anxieties, anything to speed it back up, but it's mere seconds until it shuts down completely.

It feels... uncomfortable. Just uncomfortable. All my panic is forced. A cognitive understanding that I really should be terrified, that my heart stopping is something every person needs to fear, but the emptiness swallows all that away. There's a passive, almost reassuring understanding. I'm unharmed, and it's not permanent.

This shouldn't be good. It just shouldn't, right? This isn't the absence of life, it isn't an emptiness that destroys. It's tranquility, it's cleanliness, it's alleviation. I know this is part of the curse, but I just feel so... at ease. Any negative feeling I try to summon is just swallowed by the emptiness, tidied up and put away.

Oh yes, the transformation. It seems it's spread quite far while I was distracted. Down my thighs and up to my neck. I move my hands up to my shoulders, knowing my first joints are going to grow in any minute.

No, no. I can't let it take me. I refused to be reduced to a thing to be ordered around, some heartless construct that only exists for others. There has to be something. I can make my heart beat again, I have to, or I'll die, right? I make a fist and start pounding on my chest as hard as I can... only being met with a dull, hollow thud as the plastic dents into the emptiness inside me. There's nothing in there to start anymore.

Okay. This can still be salvaged. It's just a body, and while it may change, I'm still a human inside. I won't let that be taken from me, I just need to... a suctioning feeling settles in. My skin, just at my shoulder, feels... loose. Ill-fitting.

With a single jerking motion, I reach up and grab at my shoulder, bloodlessly tearing away my skin like it's a thick and heavy tissue paper. Underneath the scraps left behind is the beginnings of a ball joint. It's much too round, the indents where the mechanics let me move just beginning to burrow. It's as if my joints are trying to pop out of their place in my sockets, held in by the firm suggestion of an artificial material. I can already feel my muscle sinew being digested.

I need to be upset, I need to. This is an existential terror in the most literal form, a destruction of all that I am. But all change is death, sacrifice. You cannot become one thing without destroying another. It's rather beautiful to bloom... no, please, no. I refuse to accept such a fate laying down, no matter how much the curse tries to ease me.

I suppose if it can swallow my gut feelings and quell the uneasiness in my heart, it won't be long until it starts to harden this one's brain, leaving it with... leaving it. It. This one.

No. Not now, not ever. If this one can't trust its feelings, and if its starting to lose its cognition, it needs to rely on its behaviour. It will remain human, in one form or another.

Dolls like to clean, to keep things orderly and convenient for others. This one just needs to rip its bed apart! It tears at the corners of its covering, tossing its pillows across the room as it tangles its sheets into a useless mess. There, a bed no doll would be proud of. It tasks a moment to bask in the joy of a completed task.

A sickening pop. It turns back to the mirror and sees its joints as they should be. Perfect round attachments, manufactured just right to allow it mobility. All that remains are its shins and its hands. It's running out of time.

This one tries to walk back to its laptop, and is immediately distracted by its walk. No longer is there the looming clumsy tumbling from its discordant changes. There's an effortless elegance, a refinement of movement and intention. It feels rather pleasing to present itself in such a formal manner. Before the transformation began, it wouldn't have considered such a thing, finding much more comfort in more casual poses and movements. It feels silly to derive such comfort from informality now. Good dolls are-

This one freezes, taken aback by its thoughts. Good dolls are polite and dignified. It's a mantra, a commandment, a colloquialism. A reflexive proverb, as if it were so baked into cultural DNA as to be self-evident. Of course that is how a good doll is to act, it would be silly to pretend otherwise. That... doesn't have to imply anything about this one, it's still a person. This one returns to its task.

12:04. It feels as if it should have been much longer. Becoming felt so fundamentally altering it's bizarre to picture it as taking only 5 minutes, even if that is what this one's research confirmed to it prior. Oh well, it can't be helped. Good dolls are punctual, after all.

There has to be something it can do, something to keep the final throes of the transformation at bay. Dolls are meant to act, and... well, that's not entirely true, is it? Dolls are also meant to be still. To be posed, a beautiful decoration, dressed in the finest outfits...

This one finds its brain... shutting off. Floating away. This is no mere emptiness; it's a trance. A blissful, wonderful stillness. No concern for thoughts, no feelings beyond a gentle calm.

As it sees the clock change, it blinks itself back to awareness. Ah, so that was stillness. This one understands why other dolls find it so enrapturing. It will gladly return to it once it has finished all it has to do.

But first, it looks down at its body. Everything is stiff and rigid, the only movement being allowed by the segments through its hardened skin. Its behaviour has been overhauled, now much more prim and proper, only breaking its posture to help its self-examination.

Of course, this one thinks like a good doll as well. It desires to serve and obey another, and in their absence, it will simply busy itself with chores, doing all it can to help like a good doll. It seems its readings were correct, and the transformation has finished.

Well, that was quite the experience. This one prepares to reflect on it... in the morning, once it's a person. In the meantime, it elegantly walks back to its bed and begins to tidy up, the much more pertinent task.

[alieinthemorning]

Acts of Service [Caleb]

Content: Self-Indulgent, Brown-Skinned Reader, Brown-Eyed Reader, Domestic Fluff, Confessions, Getting Together, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Soft Caleb, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert

Pronouns: She/Her

Note: I see Caleb within the childhood friend trope. Anything outside of that makes me uncomfortable, so I won’t be engaging with it in any sort of way.

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries

Wanna support me? Here’s my Ko-Fi!

The second you are about to enter the shower, a presence makes itself known at your door. You sigh, heading to the door with an inkling of who it is. 

“Hey, pip-squeak—woah!” Caleb’s cheerful greeting turns into a flustered one as he takes in your towel covered figure. 

“Hurry up, you’re letting all the heat out.” You wave him in as you turn around. “You’re the one who interrupted me, so now you gotta wait.”

“I, uh…okay…” He shut the door behind him, lingering in the front hall. 

And wait he did. You didn’t take too long, but you did take your time. Especially with moisturizing. You had to take extra precautions in this cold weather, after all. Least your brown skin end up ashy. You put on your coziest clothes, and a nice fragrance. Taking a swig of water to rehydrate, you take a moment to ponder. You need to wash your hair—that’s also on today’s to-do list, however, you really didn’t want to wash your hair now since the shower had tuckered you out immensely.

Oh, wait. There is someone who’s done it before in your house right now.

“Caleb!” You rush out your room, and burst into the living room. “Can you wash my hair?”

His face scrunches up for a moment before it relaxes into a grin. “You leave me here all by my lonesome for an hour, and now you wanna put me to work?” He chuckled as he stands. “Sure, I’ll do it.” 

“Great! I’ll go get my stuff—can you rinse the sink out?” 

“Already on it.” 

Having Caleb wash your hair was nice. Not only because you don’t have to wash your hair yourself (hehe), but also because…it reminds you of the old days. He’s still as gentle as he was before, he still takes the time on your problem areas, and he makes sure the temperature is perfect before putting you back under the water. 

You’re damn near asleep when he starts three-strand twisting your hair. The only thing keeping you awake is the chocolate that he had giving you—“as a friend”, he said.

“You know, it’s been a while since I’ve done this, but it doesn’t feel like we’ve missed a beat.” Caleb reminisces.

You smile. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing earlier.” You yawn. “Even though my routine change a bit, you didn’t screw up.”

“Screw up?” He flicks the back of your neck. “I’m hurt that you think that I’d mess you up.”

The two of you share a laugh, and it’s nice. How long has it been since you’d been able to laugh like this? To be this close? To share in each other’s warm presences?

You yawn again as your bonnet is carefully put on. “So what now Did you have anything planned?”

“Nah, just wanted to come and visit”

You lean back into him, gazing up at his flushed face. “How about this: you go out and buy some stuff to stay the night and ingredients for dinner while I take a nap?”

“You’re havin’ me do all the work while you laze around yet again.” He shook his head without an inch of malice. 

“Like you’d have it any other way.”

His smile becomes softer as he replies. “You’re right. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He gently nudges you off him so he can stand. “So what do you want for dinner?”

“Surprise me.” You join him, stretching. “I’m putting all the work into planning this date, you can do a little something.”

You make your way to your bedroom, a skip in your step as you hear the tail end of his sentence that he murmurs under his breath. 

“...she’s gonna be the end of me.”

Your nap came and went. You don’t know how much time passed, but it didn’t matter as you were woken up to the delicious smell of Caleb’s food. You were immediately able to pick out the fried chicken just from the smell. 

“Oh, I’m bout to smack this back like a damn heart attack.” You say as you take your seat. You notice that the flowers that he had also brought are now being used as a centerpiece. 

How romantic. 

Caleb outright laughed, as he placed a few dumplings on your plate. “Where did that come from?”

“A friend.” You say through a mouthful of rice. “When she said that it really resonated with me.”

The meal is just like earlier when he was twisting your hair. It’s warm and inviting. It’s like meeting each other again without missing a beat. It’s familiar. 

It’s…home. 

He’s home. 

You smile. “Welp, you’ve given me a wonderful Azure Echo’s Day—even though I was supposed to do all the work. So! I’ve got you on next time!” You wink at him. 

His smile falters a bit. “Haha…you don’t gotta to…”

“I insist.” You push, “I mean, what kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

This time the smile falls entirely. “Can you…not…do that?”

Your elbows hit the table, fingers lace together as you lean on your head on them. “Do you think I’m joking, Caleb?”

He looks away quietly. 

“I’m not being serious.” You sigh. “I’m not playing with your feelings. I know how you feel about me, and I know how you feel about you. And…” You pause, chewing your bottom lip for a moment before continuing. “...If we don’t cross the line now, we might not ever get the chance to again. We can’t keep being scared of destroying our peaceful friendship while being miserable because we never even tried to be more than that.”

He finally looks at you, and says your name ever so softly. His sugilite gaze is the same, and full of love. You wonder if your own brown one is reflecting the same.

“So?” A mischievous hint in your tone. “Are you gonna ask?”

“But you just said—”

“You should still ask me properly!” 

His sighs through a smile before getting up and rounding the table. He pulls you up to join him, holding you close and asks:

“Will you be my girlfriend?” 

Although the two of you did it a little backwards, February 14th marks the day that the two of you shared your first kiss as a couple.

THIS WAS WRITTEN FOR MEEEEE

ON AZURE ECHO'S DAY

DURING BLACK HISTORY MONTH

FOR MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Ko-Fi | Masterlist

[bootsukki]

4.

fic masterlist!

full masterlist!

taglist: @adelinesthoights @bellssforyou @halfp4stmidnight @avis-writeshq @carm1lla @sunghoonsgfreal @reirain @cherrypieyourface@aynfp @keldracula @kurroomii @chilichopsticks @shanchiikiss @starstrikeer @yzaelki @just-lilita @chiiibeaa @baby-bunnyxn @zarisluvr @xxpr3ttyk173rxx@albakugo @swoozleee @aeristocrats @frog-and-moon

As you locked the door to your apartment the following day, you heard the faint click of another door shutting. Turning your head, you saw Tsukishima, stepping out of his own place. Your eyes met briefly and you nodded your head to greet him.

“How’s your stomach?” he asked, voice laced with something you couldn’t recognize. Before you could even react, he approached you and he lighted one of his hands, pressing the back of it against your forehead. The suddenness of the action caught you off guard and you lifted up your head to look at him, frozen in place as he checked your temperature. “You don’t feel warm.”

His eyes widen, as if he realised what he was doing and he pulled his hand quickly, clearing his throat with a cough. “That’s… good.”

You blinked up at him, trying to hide the sudden warmth that was raising to your cheeks. “Worried about me?”

“Hardly,” he muttered, stuffind one of his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt as he other grabbed the handle of his bag.

“I’m better, thank you for asking.”

He nodded, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

“Hey,” his voice was casual but the way he avoided looking at you directly made him seem like a little kid. “If you feel uncomfortable or anything with this… arrangement, we can end it, that’s fine. I don’t… I don’t want you to feel bad or anything.”

“If this is about the Kageyama thing, I told you, it was nothing.”

“I know, I trust you but well… like I said, if there’s something.”

“No need to worry, Tsukki.” You smile, touching his shoulder slightly. “I’m late for the newsletter so I should probably…”

“Hey, before you go…”

“What’s up?”

A short pause. His fingers twitched slightly against the strap of his backpack before he sighed, like he was already regretting what he was about to say.

"Some of the guys bring their girlfriends to our matches," he muttered. "It’s not a big deal or anything, but if you’re free… I guess you could come too. If you want. You know…"

You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall with an amused smirk. "Oh? Kei Tsukishima, are you asking me on a date?"

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Hardly. Just figured if I have to suffer through a game, you might as well suffer with me."

You laughed softly, pushing off the wall. "Who are you playing against?"

“There’s this university tournament coming up so we are doing some practice matches against other universities and there’s one from Tokyo coming for today.”

“That seems fun.”

“It kind of is, but anyway, I’ll take you to dinner after if you’re up for it.”

“Wow, dinner? Free tickets to the girlfriend bleacher and a dinner? Man, I’m getting spoiled.”

“Haha, sooooo funny.”

You laugh softly and nod.

“Okay, seems like a good Tuesday night plan.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He turned towards the stairs and you followed him. “I have to be at the gym pretty early to stretch and prepare for everything but it starts at 7, is that okay?”

“More than okay. Do you need me to act like a extremely loving girlfriend or shall I…?”

“Being you is more than enough.”

You stop in your tracks and smile, looking at him as we walks down the stairs.

“So, no sign?”

“No.”

Tsukishima leaned against the gym wall, taking a long sip of his water bottle. All of them were already in uniform, coach Ukai checking on them and remaining them of some of the strategies they were going to try to use during tonight’s match. 

Tsukishima arms were crossed as his gaze fixated on Kageyama who was fixing up his knee pad. Some people were already making its way towards the bleachers, music blasting on the speakers as they waited.

“Kageyama.”

The setter barely looked up, moving onto fixing his shoe laces. “What?”

“What did you say to (Y/N)?”

Kageyama finally glanced at him. “Who?”

“Don’t act stupid.” Tsukishima clicked his tongue. “She said something about you hating on each other’s drinks but…”

Kageyama’s eyes widened and he nodded. “Yeah, I was just getting to know my friend’s girlfriend better. Who drinks cherry cola as an adult?” 

Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed, and for a brief moment, the gym felt colder. 

“Right,” he said flatly, adjusting his glasses. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go out of your way to be rude to her.”

“I wasn’t being rude.”

“Well, I don’t want you talking to her.”

“Wow, protective much?” Kageyama stood up, jumping a few times to see if his shoes were okay. “I won’t go near your girlfriend if you don’t trust her.”

“When did I even say that?”

“You’re so naive, Tsukki.” Kageyama’s voice was calm. “You don’t want her near me, scared she might leave you?”

“Hah, no. I don’t think she would even touch you with a stick pole.”

“Well, you never know what girls think about. They say they love you and then…” Kageyama sighed. “Talking about her…”

Tsukishima turned to look at the bleachers. Among a group of people, you were seated, chatting with Yachi about something. As if you were sensing his eyes on you, you looked down, waving at him with that bright smile and just like that, the tension that was creeping up on his shoulder from his conversation with Kageyama, melted.

Waving back at you and without sparing his friend another glance, Tsukishima walked away, making his way towards coach Ukai to get ready for the game.

“I wouldn’t mind being a part of the volleyball team.”

“Girl, you’re 5ft.”

“Yuki! Don’t be mean.” You laugh at Yachi’s reaction. “I meant in a management level.”

“Weren’t they looking for managers like a couple months ago?”

“Were they?”

“Yeah, the last manager changed universities so…”

“You should give it a go, Yachi.” You add. “You have always been good at planning and organising things.”

“And with being manager you would travel a lot with the team and be paid by the university.”

“Travel?” You ask, curious. “Do they go on a lot of tournaments?”

“Girl…” Yuki looks at you. “Hasn’t Tsukishima told you that they are one of the best teams in the country?”

“What?”

“Kageyama and Hinata were meant to go pro after high school but wanted to pursue further education as well.” Yuki added. “These type of tournaments they are training for prepare them for teams. If you are extremely good, you could get called for a first division team or even the national team.”

“Oh, yeah!” Yachi exclaims. “By the way, (Y/N), you know who they are playing against, right?”

“Tsukishima said…”

“Against the handsome setter from the U23 team, Atsumu Miya.” You freeze at the mention of his name. How did he…? When did…? “God, he’s so handsome…”

Your eyes widen as your look over the court, heart racing as you find him, throwing a ball to one of his teammates. Just when you’re about to tear your eyes from him, he looks over, stopping dead in his tracks as his eyes find yours.

You can’t believe that, after a year, you’re seeing Atsumu Miya again.

[zombiec4ke]

Before I knew you

soap x reader

CW: canon-typical violence, blood, probably ooc, summary: word goes after a mission goes south that a mole is among the base...when tensions rise fingers are pointed part 1-

The mission was shit, to say the least. Gaz caught a bullet in his side – nothing too major, thankfully. Soap barely moved out of the way just in time to avoid having his head blown off by a sniper. Ghost and you were the only two who came out of it completely unharmed... well, also Price, but he'd stayed back for most of the mission, saying orders from afar.

The worst part of a failed mission wasn't the pain nor the scars, It was the silence that filled the heli on the way back to base..usually soap was chirping random pick-up lines and jokes as Ghost groaned and rolled his eyes under his balaclava. But now Soap was quiet and Gaz was pale, clutching his side, his breaths shallow and uneven.

"Situation report" the sound of the Capt's voice tumbles through the silence and everyone's head turns to him as he spoke. Ghost sat up even straighter if that was even possible, the man sits like he has a metal plate in his back. "Mission failed, Gaz sustained a gunshot wound, but is now stable" he pauses to look over at Gaz who gave a shaky hand wave before looking back forward and continuing, "We extracted, but the enemy was expecting us, Too much intel on their side..none on ours" you silently nodded as Ghost spoke, the stoic Lt was the most mature of the Task force, somehow beating Price in the contest. but even the least mature knows how to read a room when it's needed...the sound of the heli's descent made you breathe a sigh through your nose. Price however held a hand up causing you to sit back down and he clears his throat. "After action reviews will go along as always, Gaz hit the medbay and everyone report to the briefing room, I want to know what the hell went wrong. You may go now" Price finishes and you stand back up and the hatch of the heli opens hitting you with the fresh (not full of death) air

you move to help Gaz up from the seat but it seems as if a medic was informed earlier because a petite woman was waiting by the hatch with a med kit. "One of our not-so-pretty mission eh Soap" you shoulder bump the scot who lets out a deep sigh as he brings a hand to ruffle your hair "Hey! I already have my own sweat in my hair 'dont need yours too" you swat soaps hand away with a playful glare before shutting up as Ghost actually glares at the two of you "Oi, stop your quarrel and get to the briefing room...now" ~ magic scene change ~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The briefing room was silent, except for the low hum of the pipes. You found a seat near the back, next to Ghost, who was surprise surprise, montone as always... Soap, on the other hand, was fidgeting, his leg bouncing, his eyes scanning the room.

Price stood at the front, his once calm ocean eyes were now a raging tempest and you all were the boats stuck in the middle of it.

Price began to pace, his boots thudding against the tiled floor. "This was a disaster. A complete and utter failure. We walked into a trap. They knew our every move, every plan. Someone..." he paused, his eyes going to each teammate "someone betrayed us." "Y'mean there's a mole?" Soap stops his foot tapping looking up at the room and Price nods causing Soap to mutter a scottish curse word.

"Precisely, we'll run checks, cross-reference intel," Price continued, his voice low "Until then we are issuing a lockdown, no leaving base at all." as soon as the words left Price's lips the air in the briefing room thickened with suspicion. Every glance felt like an accusation, every silence a loaded question.

You shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling the weight of the room pressing down on you...everyone's gaze wasn't friendly..wasn't familiar...it was full of disgust and anger. "Everyone will go to their barracks, curfew is now added..no going out after 21:00" Price doesn't add anymore and just gets up and leaves.

The crowd started to get smaller as soldiers leave, and you took a moment to gather yourself. As you were about to make your way to the door Ghost’s presence loomed beside you.

He didn’t say anything, but you felt the familiar weight of his gaze on you. It was unsettling, the way he could make everyone seem so small with so little effort.

"Right then, I'm off" Soap’s voice cut through the silence. He forced a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He clapped a hand on your shoulder, "See you later lass?" he asks and you return the smile before walking out bumping into the same nurse in the process "Op- sorry miss, hows Gaz?" you didn't wanna keep her away from her duties but you just felt that you needed to know "You can call me Ann, not miss," she replied, looking up from the chart she was holding. "Gaz is stable, but he's going to need some time to recover..I'm going to have to keep an eye on him for a bit, make sure he doesn't strain himself too much." you nodded and Ann just walked away...

the walk to the barracks was short due to it being fairly close to the briefing room and you open your door flopping on the bed not bothering to take off your blood soaked uniform. The bullet proof vest you were wearing wasn't the comfiest but you didn't have the energy to change before drifting off to a dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ the time was about 01:00 when you heard a pound on your door, expecting someone like Johnny to be at your door asking random shower thoughts or just sleepwalking but to your surprise you open the door to see Ghost. "What's up, LT? Did you get a bad dream or somethin'?" you ask yawning as you lean against the door frame what you failed to notice in your sleepy dazed state was the glare of disgust Ghost gave you as he spoke up deadpanly "we can do this the hard way or the easy way" he says and you tilt your head in a confused matter...what was he talking about?? Your lack of silence though seemed to anger the lieutenant as he snapped out your actual name causing you to raise your hand in surrender "woah, touchy touchy, did you get a stick up your-" you were cut off by the cold barrel of the gun pressed against your temple and you could barely hear Ghost over the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ear "we have evidence proving you're the mole" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: Whoohoo!!! Part 1!! I am surprised so many ppl liked the idea I had in my head :3 I suck at writing long fics so I'm trying my best...:') see you in part 2!

[inseobts]

Undercover Lovers

zoro x reader

while waiting for luffy and the others to return from whole cake island, you and the rest of the crew are forced to go undercover in wano, where your and zoro's cover as a loving couple quickly gets complicated.

words count: 1.2k

tags: wci and wano spoilers, fake dating, romance, soft zoro

masterlist || ko-fi

You and Zoro stand in the shadows of the misty Wano streets, hidden in plain sight. The night is thick with tension, and the smell of the night air is saturated with the scents of food and unfamiliar spices.

“Alright” Zoro mutters under his breath, his gaze darting around. “This mission is simple. We blend in, gather intel, and keep a low profile. No trouble.”

You glance at him skeptically “Simple? Nothing here is simple, Zoro. Especially when we have to pretend to be a couple...because I don't know if you looked at yourself”

Zoro, ever stoic, adjusts the sword at his side “It’s just an act. Play the role and we’ll be fine.”

You don't know who has this brilliant idea but you're hating them all.

You scoff “That’s what you think. I don’t think you fully understand what it means to pretend to be someone’s lover.”

He grins faintly “I think I do. You make it sound like I'll be terrible at this.”

The two of you exchange a glance, the awkwardness palpable. You had to assume this would happen, but the idea of him being your pretend lover makes your stomach flutter in a way you didn’t expect. You’re both meant to lay low while Luffy, Nami, Chopper, and Brook are rescuing Sanji on Whole Cake Island. But you and Zoro are left behind, needing to keep the rest of the Straw Hats safe while undercover.

“Now, let’s go” Zoro commands, the stoic warrior in him taking over. “Remember, just act natural.”

You and Zoro enter a local tavern in the heart of the capital. The noise from the patrons fills the room, but everything about this place feels off, like a hidden danger lies in the air. As soon as the door swings open, all eyes turn to you, and the tavern goes silent.

The bartender raises an eyebrow “What’s this? A foreign couple?”

You force a smile and link your arm with Zoro’s, making sure your posture looks casual and affectionate “Yes, we’re just here to enjoy the local food and drink” you say, your voice smooth.

Zoro stands beside you, towering and quiet, his gaze scanning the room. His posture is stiff, uncomfortable, and it’s clear that he’s not used to playing the role of someone’s lover.

“You’re an odd couple,” the bartender says, a smug smirk on his face “The woman seems more… lively. And you...” he eyes Zoro, “look like a man who could care less.”

Zoro barely glances at the bartender “I’ll take some sake.”

The bartender nods, but there’s a smirk on his face “Of course. For you two lovers, the first round’s on the house.”

You exchange a look with Zoro, both of you realizing that staying in character would be harder than it seemed. As the drinks arrive, you take one and drink it slowly, trying to hide the tension in your shoulders.

As days pass, the two of you work together to gather information, keeping up the act as a loving couple. But things become more complicated when one young local guy, Miyamoto, starts showing more interest in you than you’re comfortable with.

You’re sitting in a quiet corner of the town square, Zoro casually sitting by your side, when Miyamoto approaches with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Ah, y/n” he says smoothly “I didn’t expect to see you here. Care for a walk?” His eyes flicker toward Zoro before returning to you “I can show you some of the best views in the town. Perhaps Zoro doesn’t mind… after all, I’m sure he’s busy with his… training.”

You blink, slightly taken aback by his boldness. You glance at Zoro, but to your surprise, he’s sitting there, arms crossed, his usual indifferent expression masking any emotions.

“Zoro’s fine” you say quickly, trying to shut down Miyamoto’s advances “We’re fine here. And besides, I’m not one to leave my loving companion behind.”

Miyamoto chuckles, though the sound is more mocking than playful. “Loving? You don’t have to pretend, you know. I’m sure Zoro would be fine with me taking care of you for the evening”

This is making you mad, not just his advances but also Zoro sitting them like nothing was happening, not even caring to look over you and notice the uncomfortable air around you.

You clench your fists and you're about to storm out of there until Zoro finally turns his gaze toward Miyamoto, narrowing his eyes. His usually passive attitude shifts, and there’s an unmistakable tension in the air “You’re making a mistake if you think I won’t mind and I would let you”

You watch the exchange carefully, feeling the air grow thick with unspoken words. Miyamoto takes a step back, and Zoro’s eyes briefly meet yours, the unease in his gaze not going unnoticed.

It’s late into the evening. You and Zoro are once again walking through the dimly lit streets of Wano, the mission nearing its end. The tension from Miyamoto’s advances still hangs in the air, and for the first time, Zoro seems a little different.

“You’re quiet” he remarks, glancing at you “You looks upset since that last meeting with Miyamoto, are you?”

You look at him briefly "pretty much yeah... I was feeling uncomfortable and yet you waited that long to even say something"

"I knew you could handle it alone"

"Well... I actually couldn't"

He suddenly stops walking. His jaw tightens, and for a moment, he says nothing. You can feel the weight of unspoken words pressing between you.

Then, with a sigh, he finally speaks.

"For the record, I didn’t like it either" Zoro mutters, voice quieter than usual.

You blink at him, caught off guard "What?"

His gaze flickers to the side, as if reluctant to say more "That bastard...Miyamoto. The way he looked at you, the way he talked to you." His grip on his sword tightens. "It pissed me off... but if I did something we would have been in bif trouble"

After a pause he continues, “I didn’t like the way he looked at you” Zoro says, his voice unexpectedly serious.

Your heart stutters in your chest, unsure of whether you’re hearing things “What?”

Zoro glances at you, a slight frown tugging at his lips “I told you. I actually didn’t like the way he was talking to you. He was crossing the line”

You feel a warmth spread through your chest, unsure whether it’s the alcohol or something else making your heart beat faster “Zoro…” you start, but your words fail you.

“Forget it” he says gruffly, looking away as if the conversation never happened. But there’s something different in the way he speaks, something real this time.

You pause, staring at him. Could it be that… the act was becoming more than just a mission? Was Zoro feeling the same as you were?

“Zoro” you start again, but before you can say anything more, he steps forward, closing the gap between you two. His hand touches yours, almost like it’s an accident, but when he doesn’t pull it away, you realize it’s not.

The moment stretches on, and you can feel the tension dissipate into something new.

Without thinking, you lean into him “Maybe this act wasn’t so bad after all.”

Zoro stares down at you, his eyes flickering with something indecipherable “Maybe not” he replies, voice low and barely above a whisper.

He takes your hand in a better and firm way now and start walking again, hand in hand.

You smile at him, a small blush on his cheeks, trying to avoid your eyes. And for the first time, you wonder if the lines between the pretend lovers and real feelings are starting to blur.

[showstopper35]

Comical Comets - A Texaid Fic

happy birthday @gravedwe11er !! ilysm thank you for being my friend, I hope you like this!

____________________________________________________________

"What did you say?" Ratchet's servos clenched where they were pinned against his hips. Shit. First Aid knew that pose.

"He said, uh, that-" he started before he was interrupted.

"I said I was going to drag First Aid out of here by his neck so that I can rip his aft to scrap," Vortex said flatly.

First Aid's fans clicked on, his face plate heating up as Ratchet stared between him and Vortex.

"Why?" Ratchet asked cooly, crossing his arms now.

"He...uh...." Vortex stalled, the blades on his back spinning once.

"I owe him shanix." First Aid let Vortex clamp a clawed servo over his wrist—tight, uncomfortable, and now familiar. Ratchet raised an eyebrow at First Aid, his usual morose disapproval now mixed with disappointment.

But Ratchet let Vortex drag First Aid out of the medbay because he probably thought First Aid deserved to be beaten to shreds of metal.

Vortex wrenched him harshly by the arm all the way down the hallway, his pedes almost slipping as he took longer strides to keep up with Tex's aggressive stomp-walks. Seriously, the guy always acted like he was walking into a suicide mission or something. Which, granted, he usually was.

"Was that really your excuse? You want to beat me up?" First Aid pulled his arm out of Tex's grasp as they slid into the elevator.

"The hell else am I supposed to say? I need to see you because I like your stupid face and have a surprise? I SHOULD beat you up. It could be fun."

"I hate you." First Aid grumbled.

"That's not what you said last night." came Tex's retort.

"We didn't see each other last night."

"It's an expression! Shut the hell up!"

The elevator doors opened and First Aid was back to being dragged. They were on the top level of the ship, one of the hallways with the big, wide windows that people like Cyclonus and Optimus liked to brood in front of. One of the window ledges had two energon cubes and what looked like binoculars on them. Tex pulled them onto the ledge, and First Aid noticed for the first time how he was anxiously tapping his claws against one leg, his blades occasionally twitching like he was trying to stop them from spinning. First Aid stretches his legs out on the windowsill and looks at Tex curiously. "What's this? A surprise?"

Tex leans over and punches him in the shoulder, just hard enough to sting for a second. He ignore First Aid and gestures to the window. "There's going to be some comets passing by. I heard Blastoff and Onslaught talking about it with that emo astronaut guy."

"Cosmos? He's not emo, just lonely."

"Whatever. Anyway, the comets are supposed to collide with each other and maybe the ship, so it's going to be dangerous and fraggin' AWESOME. And I...uh...wanted to watch it with you."

First Aid decided not to tease him about the sentiment for now, and instead just picked up the binoculars and looked out the window. Streaks of firey gold and white met his vision, dusting across the midnight drapes of space. Two of the comets collide, and he can see tiny pieces of sparkly rock shimmer and scatter.

"Woaaaa." he whispers, optics wide behind his visor. Tex is staring at him, his leg bouncing with nerves or maybe excitement.

"Gimme." He swipes the binoculars from First Aid and zooms in on the comets, which look like tiny, quick-moving stars from afar. Tex lets out a giggle--a genuine giggle--and then his trademark semi-concerning cackle.

"They're exploding EVERYWHERE. Fraggin awesome. Like watching spaceships crash into each other." He's giddy, and it's adorable. In a mildly worrisome way.

First Aid smiles to himself. "Yeah, it's very cool. Thanks for setting this up."

"None of that thanking scrap-OHHH THAT WAS A BIG EXPLOSION!!" Tex does this thing when he's excited where his whole body shakes, back blades rattling softly. It used to concern First Aid, but now he knows it's a happy noise. Plus, his fans weren't exactly being quiet right now. He glances back out the window for a moment, looking at the silver streaks shooting into each other.

"It's kinda pretty too. If you're into that." Tex murmurs, handing him back the binoculars.

First aid looks back at him, their servos brushing against each other as he took the binoculars.

"Yeah. Pretty."

[hungermakesmonsters]

(It Is) What It Is

Chapter Three

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

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

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

Word Count : 5.7k

A/N : ... Billy is/continues to be clueless, but at least he's cute doing it😅

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO

Master List

Chapter Three

His hand stayed in yours all the way up to the fourth floor and to your door.

Or maybe it was your hand in his.

Honestly, there was no telling which of you was holding on, and it didn’t even cross your mind to wonder about it until you stopped outside your door. Billy stayed next to you, looking at you expectantly and you realised that he actually wanted to go into your apartment.

Your discomfort grew as he remained silent, not even offering an explanation as to what he wanted or why he was still there.

“What are you going to do? Check my apartment for monsters?” You asked, exasperated, finally untangling your hand from his so you could find your keeps and unlock the door.

He didn’t answer, he just fixed you with an unimpressed look, almost as if he thought you should know what he wanted. Once the lock clicked, you hesitated, hoping he’d take the hint. But, of course, he didn’t. 

You rolled your eyes and pushed the door open, allowing him to follow you into your apartment. As soon as you were inside, the door was shut and the latch was slid into place. 

A relieved sigh slipped from your lips as you finally kicked off your uncomfortable shoes, but any relief you felt was short-lived when you looked at the looming figure of Billy Russo in your apartment.

“So... am I supposed to offer you a drink?” You asked, barely managing to hold back the awkward frustration that was building inside of you.

“Coffee would be great,” Billy answered.

If his attention had been on you, he might have caught the flicker of annoyance on your face as you huffed and headed towards the kitchen, but he was too busy glancing around your sparse apartment.

While it might not have been the nicest apartment, and you’d done little to make it more homely in the six months that you’d been there, it wasn’t some awful shithole. It had potential - you just needed to find the time, money, and inclination to do something with it. It was mid at worst, and a work in progress at best. But it was safe and warm, and had more than enough space for you.

Most importantly, you were happy with it - it was the best that you could afford.

So, you didn’t even stop to think about why Billy was looking around the place as if you’d dragged him into a hovel, nor did you question the silence.

It was a little strange though. You knew that he hadn’t always been filthy rich. In fact, it was well known that he’d grown up with nothing and he’d built himself up. It was all pretty inspirational stuff. So, it made no sense for him to find your apartment offensive.

You tried to ignore it, putting a fresh filter in the coffee machine before starting it up, doing everything and anything you could not to look at him.

“I thought -” he started but stopped himself.

“What?” You prompted, biting back a sigh as you grabbed a couple of mugs.

“I thought I paid you better than... this.”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your -”

“It is my business if you’re hiding something that’s going to make me look bad,” he interrupted.

There was no sharpness in his voice, no accusation, but you still didn’t like it. It wasn’t his business. You weren’t some under-performing asset and you weren’t about to let him treat you like one.

You all but slammed the mug in your hand onto the counter, losing what little composure you had left. It was a wonder that the mug didn’t break, but you didn’t stop to think about that.

“Okay, let’s get one thing straight,” you started. The sudden and uncharacteristic sharpness in your voice clearly caught him off-guard because he damn near winced. “You dragged me into this and now I’m on the hook if things go wrong. But my money and how I live is my business, now yours. I like this apartment. I like living here. And that’s all there is to it.”

There was no missing the way his eyes widened as you spoke - while you had more than enough experience with his moods and temper, he’d never seen yours. But it was about time. If you were going to spend six months at his side, you were going to do it as yourself and not as the docile PA who did everything she could to keep him happy.

You were a human being and he needed to understand that.

You forced yourself to turn from him to grab the coffee pot, pouring two mugs;  black coffee for him and adding cream to your own.

“You like living in an apartment that has hardly any furniture?” He asked after a few seconds of silence, a hint of playfulness in his tone as if he was trying to lighten the mood.

You considered calling him out, telling him that he could just turn an awkward situation of his creation into a joke to get out of it, but it had been a long day and you were exhausted.

You just wanted him to drink his coffee and leave.

“I have a job that doesn’t exactly give me a lot of time to go furniture shopping,” you said, earning a forced smile from Billy. “Unless you want me to do it from my desk, instead of making sure you get your lunch on time.”

If he wanted to say anything else on the matter, he kept it to himself, but you were sure you saw a brief moment of understanding finally pass over his face. You were good at your job, you knew he knew at least that much, but clearly he’d never stopped to think about just how much it took for you to be that good.

With little more than a nod of your head, you directed him to the threadbare sofa that sat in front of the TV - a TV that was currently standing on a stack of old cookery books. 

If Billy had an opinion on it, he chose to keep it to himself.

He sat on one end of the sofa, you sat on the other, a single solitary seat between you, but it might as well have been miles with how things suddenly felt between the pair of you.

“So,” he said, leaving that one little word to hang in the air between you, as if he expected you to know what to do with it. When you shrugged, he clarified; “don’t you think we ought to talk about tonight?”

“I hope you’re not intending to give me a performance review.”

You were joking, but only just.

Billy almost laughed but shook his head. “No it’s just - well, at dinner you obviously had some notes about what I was doing wrong, so I figure we should at least try to get on the same page.”

Immediately you found yourself wondering if it was you or Billy that would be expected to try.

“Okay,” you said but chose not to expand on it, instead waiting to see where he wanted the conversation to go.

You caught him staring at his mug for a second, and you wondered if his usual confidence had started to abandon him after your outburst in the kitchen, or if he was just as tired as you were.

“Okay,” he said, mirroring your comment and the pause that followed, seeming to hope you’d jump in. When you didn’t, he continued; “I suppose we should start with the kiss.”

Just the mention of it had your heart fluttering, the memory of the moment filling your mind. It had been so gentle, so tender, and just the thought of it had you nervously running your tongue over your lower lip and heat licking across your cheeks.

“What about it?” You asked, lifting your mug and taking a slow sip, hoping to hide the sudden worry that had started to fill you.

(Had there been something wrong with the kiss? Had you done something wrong? Had you  kissed him wrong? Was he going to tell you that he’d hated it?)

“Was it - was it okay?” He asked. “I mean - we didn’t discuss it beforehand, and I know I should have asked permission or given you a little more warning.”

Oh.

He seemed genuinely uncomfortable at the thought that he might have forced you to do something you weren’t comfortable with and that was... odd and unexpected. And, in a weird way, it was incredibly sweet.

“It was fine,” you answered quickly, cheeks burning hotter with every awkward word, “more than fine. I mean - unexpected, sure, but if we’re going to sell this, then I guess we’ll have to kiss sometimes...”

“Right,” he agreed with an audible sigh of relief, “and it’s not like it really means anything.”

“Right.”

It didn’t mean anything.

Nothing.

Not a damned thing.

(So why was the memory causing your heart to pound?)

In retrospect, you were willing to chalk the butterflies in your stomach up to shock. He’d taken you by surprise with the kiss. And, sure, you were willing to admit that you’d always harboured a vague curiosity about your boss and what it would be like to be kissed by him - though it had always been an obviously silly, unprofessional thought that you’d never had any intention of acting on before tonight.

Even you weren’t so ridiculous that you couldn’t admit that Billy was an attractive man, and his looks were only one of countless reasons why so many women seemed desperate to be at his side.

“What I said,” you started awkwardly, needing to say it before you lost the nerve, “when I assumed that your other relationships had been meaningless, I - I shouldn’t’ve said that. It wasn’t fair.”

Billy nodded, silently accepting the apology.

“I’m sorry if I was... dismissive when you suggested going to that movie festival,” he said, glancing away from you. “The truth is a lot of my dates are usually very one-note; it’s dinner or a gala or some exclusive club. I don’t really...”

He trailed off into an awkward sigh, and you were left trying to read between the lines. Fortunately, you knew enough about him to put two and two together. It had always been your assumption that he used the women he was with, that he got what he wanted then kicked them to the curb, but you were starting to realise that he was probably used just as much.

Billy Russo opened a lot of doors, and to aspiring models, actresses, and socialites - well, you could see why they’d want to be seen on his arm, and how they could use him to step up a couple of rungs on the social ladder.

And, for reasons you didn’t want to consider, that made you feel sad.

“Don’t you ever just go out and do things for fun?” You asked, not really thinking too much about the question.

“Fun?” He repeated, seeming confused by the concept. “Was tonight not fun?”

Then, again, he was looking at you like you were from another planet and he had no idea how to even begin to understand you. And you - you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, even though you were sure it didn’t help the situation.

“Billy, I like Italian food as much as the next person, and I’ll never say no to the chance to have some tiramisu, but going to a restaurant isn’t exactly fun,” you told him and instantly regretted it as the corner of his lips started to tug downwards. “Not that I didn’t have fun with you but - c’mon, we probably had more fun in the car than we did at the restaurant.”

“That was fun for you? Just... talking to me?”

Again there was that pang of something, that uncomfortable squeeze beneath your ribs of - what? Pity?

“Of course it was,” you answered before your own paranoia decided to rear its ugly head again. “Did you not -”

“No - I mean, yeah, I enjoyed it. I just -” he seemed to struggle for a few seconds, “- I don’t know, guess I’m just not used to people wanting that from me.”

You took a breath, biting back all the little things you wanted to say, reassurances that you wanted to give that somehow felt too personal to offer your boss. Perhaps, instead, you could show him. Even if it was all pretend, it didn’t mean that you couldn’t have fun and enjoy each other’s company, right? 

“Then maybe that’s where we should start?” You offered. “We can try new things, have some fun, and do things differently to how you normally do them? If that doesn’t convince VDK that you’re a changed man, nothing will.”

Billy took a second to consider the offer before nodding. “Okay. We can start with that movie festival.”

“Great,” you said with a smile, immediately reaching for your phone.

He watched you as your focus completely shifted from him to your phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Booking tickets,” you explained, still tapping away on your phone. “And I’ll have to make sure that your schedule is completely clear.”

“Oh, shouldn’t I do -” he started and then abruptly stopped, letting out an awkward laugh.

You looked up from your phone, fixing him with a questioning look before it dawned on you.

“Did you just realise that you usually rely on me to book these sorts of things for you?” You asked, fighting back a smirk.

How many times had he told someone that he’d do something with one breath, only to ask you to do it for him with the next? It was ridiculous in a funny sort of way just how much you did to ensure that his life ran smoothly. In fact, you were a little shocked that he’d been able to book the restaurant tonight without your help.

“Right. Guess I should pay you overtime if you’re going to be doing all this extra work for me for the next six months,” Billy said, laughing.

“To be fair, you’re not exactly the most demanding boss I’ve ever had.” You barely even looked up from your phone as you spoke.

“No?”

“Not really,” you shrugged. “At least, not anymore.”

If Billy wanted to know what you meant by that, he didn’t ask, instead he lifted his mug and took a long, slow drink.

“You’re good at reading me,” he offered, “good at anticipating what I want before I even ask. Good with other people too - never seen anyone render Frank speechless with a coffee and a bear claw before.”

An unseemly snort of laughter escaped you, the kind of sound that would only be described as piggish, and you felt your cheeks grow hotter as you desperately tried to ignore the amused look Billy shot you. 

“Okay the, uh - the tickets are booked,” you said, keeping your eyes on your phone for a few seconds more.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Uh, fifty dollars, I got VIP tickets so we don’t have to queue for any of the screenings,” you explained, wondering if you should have asked before ordering the more expensive tickets.

“Fifty dollars for two VIP tickets?” He asked, sounding almost amused at the low cost.

“No, I mean, yours cost fifty, I -”

“You’re not paying for your own ticket,” Billy told you firmly, already pulling out his own phone, no doubt to transfer the money to you.

You wanted to argue because he’d just spent god only knew how much at Bianchi’s, but you knew that tone of voice and you knew he was not going to take no for an answer. And, honestly, again, it was late and you were getting tired.

“Fine, but I’m paying for the popcorn,” you countered.

It was Billy’s turn to roll his eyes but, surprisingly, he didn’t argue. In fact, he seemed to find it funny. And, again, you found yourself wondering what his real dates were like and if they expected him to pay for everything. Maybe that was why they wanted him in the first place, so he’d pay for everything.

Even though he was your boss and you were, eventually at least, going to be paid for pretending to date him, it just seemed sleazy to take advantage of him like that.

Case and point, the dress.

You drained the last of your coffee and looked down at yourself.

“While you’re here, you might as well wait while I change out of this dress. I kept the tags so you should be able to take it back and -”

“Take it back?” He said, confused again.

“Yeah, so you can get it refunded.”

“Why would I -”

You didn’t even let him finish the question before letting out a heavy sigh. “Because it’s expensive. Too expensive. And it’s not like I’ll wear it again.”

He looked ready to respond immediately but then some thought seemed to strike, causing an uncomfortable look to spread across his face.

“You don’t like it.” Statement not a question. He sounded disappointed, almost like a little kid finding out that their dad never really liked the novelty ties they brought them every single Christmas.

“It’s not that, it’s -” 

“I thought you liked that colour,” he continued, ignoring your protests. “You have a sweater in that shade, and it really brings out the colour of your eyes...”

Whatever you might have wanted to say died on your lips. You hadn’t worn the sweater in question in well over a month, and it seemed unthinkable to you that he’d actually remembered it, thought about it even, when he was picking the dress. (And you actively avoided even thinking about the eye comment.)

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” you said as your eyes dropped to look at the dress again. “It’s a beautiful dress, it’s just... too much? I look ridiculous prancing around in a dress that cost so much.”

“You don’t want it because it’s too expensive?” He asked, barely holding back a laugh. “I think you’re the first person to ever complain that a gift cost too much.”

Billy didn’t seem to realise that that statement said just as much about him and his life as it did you and yours. It made you remember the way he’d called you out for assuming all of his past relationships had been meaningless; had he been trying to buy their affection, or did he only manage to find women who wanted him for his money?

“Well, that’s the point, isn’t it? I’m supposed to be different from the others,” you tried to explain. “And, anyway, I don’t want people thinking I’m some gold digger or that you’re my... my sugar daddy.”

A sudden gasp of laughter escaped Billy, shaking his body so violently that he almost spilled what was left of his coffee.

“Christ, please don’t call me that again.”

You had to laugh as well, if only to relieve the tension in your body.

“I guess it’s good to know that you’re not into that,” you said, smirking at him. “I don’t think I could keep a straight face if you were.”

“No, that’s the one thing you don’t have to worry about,” he said.

And there was something in his words, some hidden meaning you couldn’t quite grasp, a warning even, but you didn’t dare ask what he was trying to tell you. It didn’t matter. Nothing was ever going to happen between you.

Without warning, Billy drained the last of his coffee and got to his feet.

“I want you to keep the dress,” he told you, “even if you decide to sell it. Though, I’d prefer that you didn’t, I think you look lovely in it.”

Suddenly, your lungs refused to draw breath and all you could do was stare at him, wondering if he was playing some cruel trick, or if he was just telling you he thought you looked lovely because that was just what was expected of him. 

Either way, it took you a few seconds to realise that he was leaving and get to your feet to follow after, watching as he placed his coffee mug by the sink before heading towards the door.

“I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

“Yes, Mr - Billy,” you said, your eyes following his hand as he unlatched the door.

He turned back to look at you as he started to open the door. “And, for the record, what you said earlier, about people seeing you as a downgrade to the women I usually date, I think you’re wrong.”

He didn’t expand on the comment or give you a chance to ask before slipping out of your apartment and, finally, leaving you alone.

As you laid in bed that night, the dress carefully folded and placed back into the box along with all the tags, you found yourself thinking about him and the bizarre evening you’d spent together.

You’d seen a side to him that you’d never seen before, and allowed him to see far more of yourself than you were usually comfortable with, but it was his laugh that you couldn’t get out of your head. You’d heard him laugh, seen him smile, countless times, but never like he had tonight in those strange little moments that seemed to catch him off-guard.

Of course, you didn’t think it was you per se that had brought out that side of him but, rather, the honesty of the situation. It was clear he was used to dates being performative,  transactional almost, the women he was seeing taking whatever they wanted from him while he got - what? Sex, probably.

You pushed that thought away, knowing it would only complicate things to dwell on it.

Tonight had just been the first night, and you still had six months to go.

Closing your eyes, you drifted off with the hopes that things could only get easier.

Your weekend went the way that you weekends often did. Saturday was spent making sure you had everything that you’d need for the following week, which included a couple of hours spent trying to find a better pair of shoes for the next time Billy decided he wanted to take you to dinner. And Sunday was spent the way your Sundays normally were; visiting your brother.

But your trip to Saint Martin’s was cut a little shorter than usual, Seb was tired and managed to fall asleep as you were reading to him, and  you’d never had the heart to wake him when he was sleeping. 

You spoke with the people responsible for his care, assuring them that the fee increase would not be a problem  and, then, you went on your way. 

On your way home you decided to stop to treat yourself to a new book and the rest of the weekend was lost to the pages of Stephen King’s The Institute.

Come Monday morning something was off. 

Your commute went as normal but, when you stepped into The Bean Grinder to grab your usual coffees and a bear claw for Billy, you were met with strange smiles. As you left, you stopped to check yourself and make sure you hadn’t left the apartment in your pyjamas or had messed up your make-up, but you looked normal, average.

You decided that it must just be them, something going on in the coffee shop that you didn’t need to know about.

As you stepped into Anvil, there were more little glances from people waiting by the elevator as you headed to the security barrier.

“Morning Carl,” you said, working extra hard to force your smile and sound happy. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he answered, thankfully sounding like his usual self. “Got that video of Lyra’s recital if you want to see?”

Something normal, something that wasn’t weird.

“Definitely,” you answered without hesitation, placing your coffee and food on the security desk as he headed towards you, phone in hand.

He hit play and you stepped a little closer to look at the screen. There was a little girl, only eight years old, dressed in a frilly red dress, playing Amazing Grace on clarinet. You watched with a smile almost as wide as Carl’s, amazed at how talented the little girl was.

You were so caught up in the video, that you didn’t realise someone was behind you until you felt a hand on the small of your back.

Somehow you managed to bite back a squeal of shock, as your head whipped around to see Billy. Carl also had a similar response and started to pull back his phone.

“What are you watching?” Billy asked.

His tone was friendly, but it was obvious that Carl felt caught out by Mr Russo’s sudden appearance, like he was about to get in trouble.

“Carl was showing me his daughter’s clarinet recital,” you explained, “she’s really good.”

You flashed Carl a reassuring smile, refusing to believe even for a second that he was going to get in trouble. He wouldn’t. You wouldn’t let him.

“Oh, okay,” was all Billy said. “Are you heading up now?”

“Yeah,” you said, again smiling at Carl and offering him a slight but reassuring nod. “I’ll see you later Carl.”

With that you grabbed the coffees and bear claw from the desk and started to follow Billy towards the elevator. About halfway there, he relieved you of the coffees, earning a smile from you.

“Are you always so friendly with everyone?” He asked as the elevator door slid shut.

“I guess?” You answered, shrugging. “Carl’s always been really nice to me. The other week he let me borrow his umbrella when I had to go out to get lunch.”

Billy didn’t say anything - you doubted that he cared, but you wanted to make sure he understood that Carl was a good employee and, more than that, someone you liked. In fact, he remained silent for the rest of the short trip up to the top floor of the building.

The elevator gave a ding and Billy let you step out first, though you quickly stopped in your tracks when you found Mr Castle leaning against your desk. You looked from him to Billy and back again, a mild look of shock on your face as you tried to figure out if you’d forgotten to schedule a meeting.

“What are you doing up here this early on a Monday, Frankie?” Billy asked, grinning at his friend.

“Just thought I’d come see if you had any of those bear claws goin’ spare,” Castle answered, looking directly at you.

“Oh, I didn’t know that you’d -” you looked down at the paper bag in your hand, “- I can run back across and -”

“Relax, I’m kiddin’” Mr Castle interrupted before you could get too flustered. “Just, do me a favour, blink twice if Bill here is blackmailin’ you.”

You did blink, but it was more than twice.

“What?” You asked, not getting the joke.

Billy clearly understood what Frank was getting at because he let out a forced sigh.

“Fucking hell, Frankie, leave her alone,” Billy said, not bothering to hold back his annoyance.

He turned to look at you for a moment, letting you take your coffee from the tray, and hand him the paper bag with his breakfast. Then he nodded towards his office and Frank Castle followed him inside.

It wasn’t until you sat at your desk and opened your laptop that your strange morning finally started to make sense to you.

You’d set up the google alert for professional reasons, wanting to make sure that nothing libellous or damaging to Anvil was posted about Billy. More often than not, whenever it pinged it was just photos of him and whichever woman happened to be on his arm, stories about him, stories about him at clubs or galas. Or restaurants.

Your heart stopped and you felt sick when you clicked the alert and saw photos of you and Billy at Bianchi’s; holding hands, eating dinner... kissing.

New York’s most eligible bachelor, Billy Russo, takes unknown to Bianchi’s. 

Even if you’d wanted to read the article you couldn’t have. You couldn’t focus your eyes, couldn’t - anything. Closing your laptop, you tugged at the top button of your blouse, feeling like you were being choked by your own collar.

That was why everyone was being weird with you. They thought - fuck, what did they think?

You couldn’t decide what was worse, that they thought you were just someone he was fucking before he moved on to the next, or that you were sleeping with Billy to advance your career.

Somehow, you managed to stand from your desk and make your way to the small bathroom, locking yourself in while you forced yourself through some breathing exercises to try and push the panic away.

Realistically, you knew that you should have expected it - all of Billy’s dates ended up with unwanted publicity in the gossip blogs and the society sections, after all - but seeing those photos of yourself, in that dress, tangled up in Billy Russo’s arms had you feeling more insecure about yourself than you had in years.

The only saving grace was the fact that they hadn’t known your name to publish, though you were sure that wouldn’t last.

It took ten minutes for you to calm down and compose yourself, but the sick feeling in your gut lingered long after you returned to your desk and tried to start your day again, minimising the window that had your photo on.

Frank Castle sauntered out of Billy’s office about twenty minutes later. He gave you a look, a smile that you didn’t understand but he didn’t speak until he was in the elevator and the doors were closing.

“No accountin' for taste, I guess.”

And, with that you felt some part of you break.

Before you could stop to consider what you were doing, your laptop was under your arm and you were walking into Billy’s office. He seemed a little shocked at you just barging in, but didn’t say anything. Approaching his desk, you opened your laptop and put it down in front of him, maximising the gossip blog window again.

You wanted to say something; look at that, someone was photographing us, someone was invading our privacy. Instead, you said nothing, allowing Billy a moment to scan the pictures and the story about his date with an unknown woman.

He didn’t seem shocked, he didn’t even seem to care.

Until he saw your face.

“I...” whatever he wanted to say seemed to die on his lips. Billy took a breath before continuing. “I’m sorry. I’m so used to it now that I didn’t stop to think how you’d feel about it.”

“No one believes it,” you said, quietly, feeling like it was all you could manage. “It won’t work, even Mr Castle -”

“Frank? What did Frank say?” Billy asked, a sharpness slipping into his voice as he got to his feet. For a moment you wondered if he was about to hunt Frank Castle down.

“That there’s no accounting for taste and - and he’s right, Billy. No one will believe that you’d want -” your voice threatened to break.

Before you could finish, you found yourself pulled against him, his arms tight around your body as he held you.

“No - no, that’s not what he meant,” he said, trying to reassure you. “He doesn’t understand why you’d want to be with me, not the other way around.”

Oh.

Closing your eyes tight, you melted against his chest, letting him hold you for a few sweet moments.

Billy pulled back, his hands framing your face, forcing you to look at him, and you found an unexpected look of concern. You barely even noticed the way one of his thumbs was tenderly stroking your cheek because you were too busy getting lost in his eyes.

“We don’t have to do this,” he said. “If it’s going to make you uncomfortable or upset you, I can find another way to get the VDK contract.”

Right. The VDK contract. That was what all of this was for.

You managed to shake your head.

“No, I can -” there was an audible break in your voice and you forced yourself to take a step back, out of his hold. “Sorry. I just - it took me by surprise. I never - I guess I never stopped to think that this is how it would have to be.”

Billy gave an understanding nod, seeming to think on it a moment before offering; “if you want to take the day -”

“No. No, I can’t do that,” you quickly said. “People are already going to assume that I’m getting special treatment from you, and I don’t want to add fuel to the fire.”

“Alright, fine,” Billy relented but you could tell he wasn’t entirely happy about it. “But I’m taking you out for lunch today, okay?”

“Maybe we  -”

“I’m not taking no for an answer,” he told you. “Anyway, I think it’s about time I got the coffees and pastries for a change.”

All you could do was nod. It felt like your throat was closing up, and your lungs were starting to strain again. You nodded again as you gathered up your laptop and left Billy’s office and, as you were closing the door behind him, he told you to be ready for lunch at midday.

As you sat back down at your desk, you found yourself wondering just how you were going to survive six months of this. Of course you knew that you’d have to be seen with him again but you’d never really stopped to think about how what you were doing outside of Anvil would bleed into your work life. Honestly, you hadn’t had time to consider much of anything, everything was happening so fast.

You tried desperately to lose yourself in your work over the next few hours, but you kept finding your eyes on the clock, counting down the minutes until he was going to appear from his office to take you for lunch.

A/N : 😅 so I realise now that I should have pointed out that this is going to be a slightly slower burn than some of my other fics (especially compared to Love, Sick Love) but I hope you'll indulge me for the ridiculous cuteness that is a clueless Billy Russo. There's a lot of set-up involved in getting the characters to where I need them to be so I can start the drama but more is going to start happening in the next couple of chapters.

As always thanks so much the likes/comments/reblogs on this, I hope you're enjoying the fluff as much as I am. Have a wonderful weekend!

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

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[opens-up-4-nobody]

I'm on my Bones 2005 journey and it's driving me up a wall. This show exists in some sort of alternate reality where everyone is insane and the laws don't matter.

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

My roommate and I had a conversation last night and I keep rotating it in my brain and I Don’t Like It

[deus-ex-mona]

petition for the animators to spare lxl from the ✨male gaze✨ p l s

[widevibratobitch]

.

[rosicheeks]

Sending strength and love and good vibes your way honey. You can do this!

I really really hope you’re right 🤞

[townofcrosshollow]

Idk man if you're constantly talking about your crushing loneliness and feelings of being ostracised and left out when you ostensibly have a bunch of friends around you then maybe the feelings of loneliness aren't the problem there

[noirapocalypto]

One more and I’ll shut the fuck up. ✌️