#this is going to be a lot of money and yeah we're better now that we're not paying for a lemon

[dreams-and-honor]

I think being stuck at home for months is starting to get to me

[vamptastic]

it's kinda weird that when you look at health recommendations for various medical conditions associated with fatness it's always 'just lose 10% of your body weight to see a risk reduction' (so like 20-30 pounds for the average overweight or obese person according to the bmi) but then in day to day medicine there's not really a way of like, removing obesity as a diagnosis on your insurance paperwork for example, even if by a certain standard you've lost enough weight to reduce the risk of health conditions that insurance would be concerned about. if you're an average height weighing 300 pounds and lose 30 pounds, which seems to be the amount that's considered reasonable to lose and maintain if you want to like, reduce your cholesterol, you've gone from morbidly obese to morbidly obese.

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Okay okay so. Thinking.

I've mapped out how I want to pay off my credit cards, which means I'll only be getting new stuff pretty sporadically, which means I need to appreciate the zero cost things in my life, like:

- the 2.5 foot tall stack of unread books I have

- the violin I might finally actually pick up again

- the 500+ drawing prompts I've been hoarding

- the list of anime I still need to watch

- the 3000+ songs in my watch later playlist

- the stickers I've been neglecting to cut

- yarn??? I have a lot of yarn

- all the pink fabric leftover from moth cosplay

- the candles and incense I also already have

In short, time to actually use the stuff that I have 😭

[suiana]

yandere! golden boy who is your loving boyfriend and... surprisingly loves listening to you talk about your interests! yes darling, talk about your games and novels and silly plushies! he loves seeing how interested you can get about things you're passionate about and it just makes him feel so warm on the inside.

you might even go as far to say he ENCOURAGES your interests. buying you plushies, taking you to exhibitions/places you want... you don't even have to ask, just one look with your eyes and he's taking out his card. yeah, it doesn't matter if you have an unhealthy attachment to that fat cat pusheen or whatever. you seem to really like it so he's buying that 400 dollar plushie for you.

on the same note... he can't help but get jealous when you're gushing over attractive fictional characters. SPECIFICALLY that ONE dude that you seem to have EVERYWHERE. on the wall, on your phone cover, lock screen, profile picture, fuck, even on your bed as a plushie! and all he gets is a meager nickname on his contact?!

"sweetie, must you... really have all these... THINGs of HIM?"

"he's my first husband, you're my second. of course i have merch of him. plus I'm not gonna just throw all these away, i spent big money on these ya know 💀"

he knows it's petty! he knows that it's just a fictional character and that he shouldn't be jealous but dude! you don't even have him in your wallet! it's that freaking guy!

so he does what evey sane boyfriend does and replaces some (not all just some!) of your merchandise with pictures of him and you. how adorable, right?

no.

"bro where is the portrait of my MAN🤬🤬🤬"

"i replaced it with a nice picture of us together darling☺️ look at how cute-"

oh. and you...you just put another photo of that guy again... oh... and you're ranting on reddit/instagram about how he's being mean... you also removed him from your close friends list... oh you... you also decided to kick him off the bed and onto the sofa... oh...

well no biggie! he has lots of patience and he will sneak in his presence into your stuff. he's determined.

"best friend I'm going to need you to cosplay as my favorite character please ☺️"

damn!

why didn't he think of that sooner? if you can't win the normal way, you should do it another way, right? he can just get you to see how much better he is and you'll eventually replace that fictional man for HIM!

...

yeah, that didn't work out as planned. now you're even more in love with that character and you're asking him to cosplay every other day. erm... at least.. your wallpaper is a picture of him cosplaying the character??? he'll take what he can get.

"lol best friend, did you see that video i sent you. it's so stupid."

"for the last time, sweetie. we're dating, call me boyfriend. and which one? I can't watch every single one of the 99+ reels you send me."

"a real best friend would watch them all..."

being with you has singlehandedly changed this man. for the worse or for the better, he doesn't know. but what he does know is that you DON'T know how to dress.

"sweetie, no. you can't just go out in a shirt and shorts! you look like adam sandler!"

"clothes are clothes 🤬"

at least he has a fun time dressing you up. you're like, his cute little rat! his very own personal dress up rat! oh how he wants to just keep you in his pocket and pick out pretty clothes for you, making you look like the cutest thing ever! sure you might take them off and just wear what you want but... at least he's got the photos and the sight of you in a pretty outfit ingrained into the folds of his brain already ☺️ and he'll take every chance he can get to put you into another pretty outfit again. that i assure you.

he... has ALSO found out that you are living on instant noodles, sandwiches, and the occasional takeout. you don't even open the curtains! how can you see in such a dark home? and why are you sleeping until midday?! dear oh dear. you really are a rat, huh?

"darling get up! it's 12 in the afternoon already!"

"i slept at 3 just let me sleep more..."

that simply won't do. he will not be allowing you to lead such a horrid lifestyle! not if he can help it! especially because... well, he's also your boss. from part 1, remember! yeah, you guys didn't break up at the end haha! you were just joking, obviously! not like you'll ever be able to break up. it's in the contract, silly.

"come on, get up. you need to have a healthy lifestyle. I've already gotten my personal chef to cook up a healthy meal for you."

"who's gonna stop me from living like this? you? 😂😂😂"

"yes, me. in our contract, remember? i will be responsible for your health from now till we die."

don't worry. he'll be by your side every step of the way. and hey, who knows? maybe you can even teach him a thing or two about gaming or something else you like! he's open to learning about the things you like.

and he won't even have to worry about you finding another REAL person to like because... well, let's just say you don't even like going out for dinner. we'll keep it at that ☺️

[woso-dreamzzz]

In A Rich Woman's World

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Summary: You're good at throwing money at problems

"It was a charitable donation."

You know the minute those words leave your mouth that it's the wrong thing to say.

You can see the way Alexia bristles at the implication. You didn't even really mean it like that. Not in the way Alexia had interpreted it to mean.

"We're not a charity!" She hisses.

You wince. "I don't mean it like that," You say quickly," I just meant-"

"You can't just throw money at my club and expect everything to go smoothly!"

"Ale, darling-"

"No! You just can't!"

You stand fluidly, taking three short steps until you're eye to eye with your girlfriend. "This whole debt thing worries you," You say bluntly," Even though you won't say anything. You think that it's what's causing players to not come to Barcelona. I've changed that. Now there's no debt."

"You can't just-"

"Throw money, yes, yes, I know which is why there's also a contract and I've agreed to be a shirt sponsor. More money to spend for the club."

Alexia falls silent for a moment like she's trying to find something else to complain about before a finger jabs into your chest. "I'm not happy," She says," But that was sweet of you. Thank you."

You shrug. "Would it make you feel better if I bought you a present too?"

The slamming of the bedroom door is all the answer you need and you glance behind you at the puppy in a carry case.

"Sorry, Buddy," You say," I guess she just doesn't want to meet you yet."

Alexia manages to stay angry at you for all of ten minutes before she stomps out of your bedroom, grabs your hand and drags you back in.

But then Buddy barks and Alexia's back to being angry, kicking you out of the room and taking the new dog with her instead.

This time, you're left alone for half an hour before she comes out again.

"Are you still mad?"

"You can't throw anymore money at the club anymore," Alexia says bluntly, arms crossed over her chest in defiance," And everything you do with the club, goes through an official contract. Strictly business only."

You nod. "I can accept that."

"And the dog?" She grumbles," He's cute. Thank you."

You grin. "Of course, my love. You can take him to training. The breeder says he's going to need a lot of exercise."

"Excellent. You bought him. You can walk him."

You frown. "Wait...Hey-"

"You bought him," Alexia reminds you," So his needs are your responsibilities and I'll take his love."

"Babe-"

"That's my price."

You groan. "Fine, yeah. I'll walk the dog."

"Good."

So you do.

You pay off Barcelona's debts. You end up as a shirt sponsor for the team. You walk the dog - once in the morning before your meetings and once in the evening before dinner.

"Look at you." Marta jokingly whistles as you come walking down to tunnel towards the team. "Going for a business meeting?"

You're dressed in your usual black suit, tailored to fit your body perfectly right down to your shiny dress shoes. You wear little jewellery apart from a stupidly expensive watch on your wrist and a silver chain loosely around your neck.

Your hair is slicked back tightly with your usual 'don't you dare fuck me over' expression on your face that you usually wield in the meeting room.

"If only," You say wistfully, allowing the smallest of smiles to appear before wiping it from your face," Where's my fiancée? Still showering?"

"She'll be out soon," Marta assures you, patting you on the back before she turns," This is y/n. She's Alexia's fiancée. Y/n, these are some of the girls that have joined us from the B team."

"Nice to meet you," You say, head dipping in greeting politely before you straighten up again quickly.

"You're waiting for me here?" Alexia asks as she comes out of the locker room, pressing a soft kiss to your lips," I thought you were going to get the car?"

"The driver's waiting for us outside," You say, checking the time on your fancy watch," I was thinking we could go out for dinner. I got us a reservation at that seafood place you like after you scored."

Alexia rolls her eyes. "And how much is that costing us for such short notice?"

You grin. "Costing me, my love," You correct her," And nothing I can't afford. You only deserve the best, after all."

[gguk-n]

Your brother's Oscar Piastri? (Oscar Piastri x Reader)

I've had this idea in my head since I found out Oscar's sister is a K-Pop stan.

{Reader's POV}

Getting tickets to a K-Pop concert got exponentially more difficult as their popularity rose. It took so many attempts and almost losing the hair on my head before I got tickets to the TXT concert in town. I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as the confirmation email rolled in.

On the day of the concert, I might have gone all out and dressed up but everyone dresses up for the concert and it was the most exciting day I've had in a while. I love that I get to spend my adult money on stuff I enjoy. At the venue, I got to meet some people I had connected with online and made some new friends.

There was a girl next to me in the seating, who I ended up vibing with. We had a lot of fun as we sang along to all their songs; our voice went hoarse by the end of the night. As we walked out while talking about the concert, "Ugh, my mum won't answer my calls" the girl next to me, who I was introduced to as Hattie groaned. "Is there an issue?" I asked. "My mum's supposed to be my ride back and she won't answer my calls" she whined. "I could drop you" I suggested. "Oh, no. That would be too much to ask for" the girl shook her head to avoid causing any inconvenience . "It'll be fine. We're part of the same fandom so it makes us family" I laughed. She seemed to mull over my suggestion before nodding her head, "OK, but I'll pay for the petrol" she suggested. "Done. Let's go" I said pointing to my car.

The drive to her house was entertaining as we got to know each other better and sang along to the songs. We become concert buddies after that. I didn't really have many friends I could drag along to concerts anymore; having a friend made things much more exciting. She was a joy to have around and we shared the same bias for most groups we liked so it made stuff even more chaotic then they already were.

This went on for a couple more concerts until the latest one where I took the bus to the venue since my car broke down and a non-functioning vehicle was not about to stop me from seeing Enhypen. I met Hattie at the entrance who had been waiting for me. We hugged and grabbed some stuff from the stands outside and walked into the venue. The show was great, the fan service at K-Pop concerts was unmatched.

Hattie knew that my car had broken down and offered to drive me home as a pay back for the favour I had done at the start of our friendship. We were waiting outside for who I assumed was Hattie's mum but instead I was greeted by a tall pale Australian man, I knew more as Oscar Piastri, Formula One driver for McLaren. My jaw almost hit the floor before I caught myself and greeted the man before entering the car. "Hi, I'm Y/N." I said while climbing into the back seat while Hattie sat shot gun. "Hey, I'm Oscar" he said giving me a smile before he started the car.

Hattie kept looking back at me every time I sent a message. As soon as she read the last message, "Oscar, Y/N loves you" she laughed. Man, I hate the friends I have sometimes, I thought. Before my mind could react my body did, "No" I shouted. Oscar turned around to look at me, "no?" he asked. "I mean yes" I stammered. "yes?" he quizzed. "I mean, I love Formula One and since you're a Formula One driver that's why I asked her to ask if could get your autograph" I rambled. If the earth swallowed me whole, I don't think I would mind right now. I could hear Hattie snickering in the background.

The rest of the car ride had me sweating. Oscar dropped me off in front of my building; I bolted out of the door. "Don't you want that autograph?" Oscar shouted. I stopped dead in my tracks with slumped shoulders; if I'm going to embarrass myself, let's leave no stone unturned at this point. "Yeah, sure. I have some merch in my house you could sign" I mumbled walking back to the car. "Maybe you would like to join me for some tea" I offered. Hattie nodded along from inside the car and the three of us headed up. My house, I must've forgotten was not clean enough to be seen by anyone but me; I had to literally stop them, throw everything in the nearest closet and then open the door. I ran a kettle for hot water and asked them to sit on the sofa while I grabbed the Oscar Piastri hat and shirt I had bought recently. He graciously signed it for me and I handed them the cup of tea. "Your house is lovely" Hattie commented while looking around, "I don't see any of the albums or merch" she continued. "they're in my room" I said. "Must be fun explaining to the guys who come over" she spoke more to herself. "It's hilarious watching their reaction" Hattie added at Oscar's quizzical expression. "If you guys are done, would it be harsh to ask you to leave, I have an early shift tomorrow" I asked nervously. "No, thank you for the tea. We'll be leaving" Oscar said while lifting Hattie up. "I'm not leaving yet. I haven't seen your room" Hattie whined trying to get free from Oscar. "You know where she lives, come over at a more acceptable time." Oscar told her and dragged his sister away, "Good night Y/N" he called out as I closed the door.

Thank god she didn't see my room, I don't know how I would explain the Oscar Piastri poster I had above my bed and in my closet. My life got interesting to say the least.

Hattie and I weren't able to meet after since there weren't any concerts for a while but there was a Formula One race in a week. Hattie called me asking if I would like to join her family. I was more than grateful to be going because I got to see the race for free. God knows my saving's are crying.

I got dressed for the race and met them at the venue. It was the race day and the hustle and bustle at the paddock had adrenaline pumping through me. Hattie greeted me and introduced me to her family, 2 sisters and her parents who were very kind and welcoming. "It's nice to finally meet the girl who's accompanying our daughter to concerts and the subject of my child's interest" Nicole chimed extending her arm out. "It's so nice to meet you too Mrs Piastri" I said while shaking her hand. "You make me sound old, call me Nicole" she said. "What did she mean by the subject of my child's interest?" I whispered to Hattie. "Nothing" Hattie answered quickly. We walked in to McLaren to be greeted by Oscar and Lando. Starstruck was an understatement. After exchanging pleasantries and me asking for Lando's autograph and a picture with him and then tripping over the wire on the floor almost discharging vital piece of equipment found my way back to everyone and decided to sit in place. Oscar did ask if I was okay but I couldn't really focus on that since I keep embarrassing myself in front of him, of all the people.

The race ended with a pretty decent finish for Oscar that had all of us cheering. He came back to meet everyone after all the formalities and celebration. After a while we started to pack up to leave; "you should help Oscar pack up" Hattie said while making a quick exit with the family. "What? Why?" I asked but was ignored while everyone left. "Hi" a small voice came. "Hey, Oscar. Great race" I said trying to making things less awkward. "Thanks for coming" Oscar said. "Hattie said you guys had extra tickets and plus I couldn't say no to a race" I rambled. "Umm" he scratched the back of his neck, "there were no extra tickets, Lando lent me one of his so I could invite you" he said. "What? I'm so sorry for the trouble" I apologised. "What? No I mean, I wanted you to come...so I asked Lando for the extra ticket" Oscar corrected me. "You wanted me to come" I repeated. "This is so stupid" he muttered to himself. "Let's go, or we'll be late for dinner" Oscar said packing his stuff. "What dinner?" I asked. I was so lost, what was going on? "We're going out for a family dinner" Oscar stated. "You're going on a family dinner, I'm going home. I'm sure they must be waiting for you in the garage." I said grabbing my stuff. "They're not" Oscar lamented running a hand through his hair.

"I could drop you there if you would like" I offered. "No, I...ugh" Oscar sounded frustrated. "Is something wrong? Maybe I can get help" I suggested. Oscar looked at me with the softest puppy eyes, "I got tickets for you, specifically even though I didn't have one, I was ready to not have one of my sisters attend so that you could have a ticket" he said now staring at me. "I don't" I began. "Fuck, Y/N IthinkIlikeyou" he mumbled. "Oscar, I don't know what you said" I said. Lando peeped in, "This is getting frustrating, I thought it would be fun to watch but it's not. That muppet means he likes you, go out with him." Lando chimed. "You like me?" I asked shocked. Oscar just nodded his head slowly. "Put the kid out of his misery and go out with him. I don't think I can take pining Oscar any more or watch him stalk your Instagram profile" Lando quipped. "Can you shut up Lando?" Oscar glared. "I would love to go out with you Oscar" I cut them off; "really?" Oscar asked. "Yeah, I mean you are my favourite driver on the grid" I stated. "Really" Oscar shouted making me and Lando jump. "Let's go now" Oscar said while holding my hand and dragging me out.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

David Tennant and Michael Sheen at the Pub In The Park All Star Charity Gala 2024, 28.6.2024 :) ❤ (x)

Int: More than us, weren't they? Did you enjoy that Chiswick?! Brilliant.

Michael: What a night! What a night!

David: Oh, come on, Chiswick! Come on!

Michael: Hello, Chiswick!

Int: So, hello, boys. How you doing?

David: Hello. Hello. Very nice, very nice.

Int: Would you like to introduce yourselves to the crowd?

David: My name is Michael Sheen.

Michael: And my name is David Tennant!

Int: How many tequilas have I had? I'm really confused right now. Are you having a good time?

Michael: Yes!

David: The best!

Michael: I've had a spicy margarita and I'm of anyone's! Well, we don't rush. Don't rush everyone.

David: I'm so cool. I'm still wearing sunglasses at 9 o'clock at night.

Int: This has been noticed.

David: But because it's Chiswick and I am 53, they are prescription.

Int: You are not the only one here with prescription sunglasses

David: Means I can't take them off, that's the problem as the light falls.

Int: It adds a certain aloofness to the equation.

Michael: It gives him an exotic allure.

David: It does.

Michael: I've always said it.

David: It does. That's what the smell is.

Int: Why does everything sound better in your accent, Michael?

Michael: Exotic allure.

Int: Ooooh. Don't stop. Anyway, I digress. Right, so we are here appreciating everything about Pub In The Park. And are we enjoying it?

Crowd: Yeeeees!

Int: Yes. But tonight is very, very special because not only do we have all our usual wonderful restaurants, all of our lovely stages, all the bars, all the trees and the views and the Chiswick house, but we are also celebrating a charity. We are celebrating a wonderful gala evening this evening. So please, boys, tell us what it's all about.

David: It's from Multibank.

Michael: Yes!

David: Come on! There's a terrible... there's an awful amount of need in the country at the moment. We understand the need for food banks. Multibank is a food bank, but it's also fighting hygiene poverty. It's also providing people who don't have the stuff they need just to get through the day. Toothpaste and toilet rolls and all the stuff that we take for granted. There's a desperate need. Multibank is about providing families who don't have it with some of the... with the stuff that they need to go through life. And by buying a ticket tonight, you've already given at least ten pounds. So thank you, thank you, thank you.

Michael: Thank you!

David: If you'd like to give a bit more, we're not gonna stop you.

Michael: Don't. Don't do it!

David and Michael over each other: No, no. Don't do it. No, no, no. We're not good. We're not. Do it, do it. We're not gonna. Do it.

David: We're not gonna stop you. As you leave tonight, there'll be people with those little fancy machines.

Int: PDQs.

David: Whaat?

Michael: People be doing what?

David: Those little machines.

Michael: When you leave tonight, there'll be people doing that?

David: There'll be people doing that. But in this hand, they'll have a card machine. So we're doing that with this hand. And in this hand, you can tap and go. And you can give multibank another little bit as you leave. Once you're nice and drunk and you're not thinking about it, give them lots of money as you leave.

Michael: Yes.

Int: Absolutely.

Michael: But thank you for everything you've given so far!

David: Absolutely.

Michael: It's already been a massivelysuccessful evening, so thank you.

David: Yeah.

Int: Yes. We really appreciate it. And I know the aim is to raise 40,000 pounds this evening.

David: I think we've already done that. Let's make it 50.

All: Yass!

Int: We love that. And I'll tell you how we could even make that happen. Is that in your heads, every tune is played from now on that you like. Imagine that's about what? Tenner. So every tune you like from our next DJ, who's going to come on in a second. If you like the song, then in your head, you need to calculate that's a tenner each time to give to multibank. And I'm looking at you. And I'm looking at you, Rob, as well.Is that fair enough?

David and Michael: Yes.

Int: Yes, exactly.

David: If you want to see Michael Sheen DJ.

Int: Get over there. So, in that case, I think your DJ assistant is ready to accept you, Michael.

Michael: I'm going to hand you over to my trusty assistant on the decks, straight from Ibiza.

Int: Yes. Everybody, please go mad for the tunes of Vernon Kay!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I've Got You Under My Skin 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, marital troubles, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Steve Rogers

Summary: your husband is a very demanding man.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The keys jingle loudly as you rush out the door with your purse in your other hand. You just need to get out of the house. Sometimes, it feels like a prison. Especially lately. Since the fight.

You feel horrid for what you did. You made a mistake, sure, but you think Steve is right. You weren't paying attention to what he said. Now that you think of it, you may have misinterpreted your conversation based entirely on your own doubts.

Still, you're going to show him that you can do this. You've been reading up on it all night. Researching everything you need.

As you hit the button on the key tag, the car beeps and unlocks. The SUV is a bit bigger than what you would pick but Steve thought it was a good family vehicle. Besides, it's his money.

"Hey," he startles you as he appears from beside the garage. You blink and drop the keys.

"Hi, Stevie," you blanch and bend to pick up the keys as he approaches.

"You're running out," he doesn't sound impressed.

"Um, yes, um, doing some errands. Groceries."

"You could order."

You gulp, "I'm sorry. I was only... wanting to get out."

"Alone?" He inquires.

"Yeah, what--"

"You're not meeting up with Natasha for one of those sugary coffees?" He challenges.

You wince. "No, Captain. I'm not drinking caffeine anymore. It's not good... for conception."

He tilts his head and his cheek dimples, "ah, good girl."

"Do you want to come with me?" You offer.

His shoulders ease, "no. You can go. Grab some more protein. The banana stuff?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Drive safe," he girds.

"I always do."

He nods and turns back, "I'm gonna finish up the weeds."

You stare after him as he marches away. What does he mean? You just dealt with the garden. Once again, not good enough.

You get in the car and adjust the wheel and the seat. You buckle up and set your feet on the pedals. You flip the engine and put it in reverse.

You back out through the gate and onto the street. You drive, jaw locked, fingers cramped, tense in anticipation. You just want to make this better. You just don't know if it's too late.

You go to the grocery store first. You get the few items on your list. You have a lot of the staples still in the cupboards. You check out and use Steve's card. You don't have one anymore. He's a lot better with money than you.

Your next adventure makes you nervous. You stop outside the shop and stare through the window at the stuffed bunnies and the onesies. The maternity shop makes it all so real. You still feel so young. But you can do this. With Steve. He knows what he's doing.

You enter and the air rushes from your chest. Oh. Okay. That breast pump makes you nervous.

"Hi, how can I help you?" A woman chimes an approaches in a bubbly bounce. Her blond ringlets are perfect.

"Ummmm..." you fidget with your phone. "I looked online. Um, for prenatal supplements."

"Ah, yes, we have a whole aisle," she waves her arm and turns to stand beside you. "Do you have questions?"

"A lot," you admit.

"How long have you been trying? Oh, are you already expecting?" She wonders.

The questions feel too personal. Still, it's not like you came here without a purpose. You follow her to the far wall lined with bottles and vials of tablets.

"We're trying. Right now. Starting to. I just want to be healthy." You explain.

"Uh, huh, wonderful," she rubs her hands together. "Some of these you won't need until you're expecting but we can get you a few things. Maybe just have a look around for some inspiration, huh?"

"Sure, that sounds... good."

She explains to you all the organic supplements and even recommends some aphrodisiacs. Thing is, Steve doesn't need those. You pick a few and follow her around as she shows you mobiles and blankies. There's a little Cap squishee even. You pick it up and smile. He'll love that.

You take your goods to the counter and she rings you up. You dig in your purse and hand your card to her. She reads it passingly then pauses. 

"I thought you were familiar. Your Mr. Rogers. The Mrs. Rogers."

You squirm. Oh no. You forget how famous Steve is. Well, it's fine. It's not like she would tell anyone you know, right?

You just nod, "do you have bags?"

"Oh yes, I'll put this all away for you," she unfolds a paper bag and loads it up. "Anything else, Mrs. Rogers."

"Yeah," you choke. "My name's..." you correct her. Sometimes, you just feel like a part of Steve. Not your own person. "Thanks."

You take the bag and your card and leave. You sniff as you get to car and climb into the front seat. You put your purchase in front of the passenger's and sit there a while. You feel weird about this.

Just nerves. You start the car and head home. The trip is too quick. You're not ready.

You get out with the small paper bag and go around the trunk to get the reusable one with the T-bone steak and protein powder. You hit the button to close the hatch and go inside. You'd love to stay out in the sun but you couldn't relax if you tried.

"Stevie?" You call as you reach the kitchen. "Hello?"

He doesn't answer. You wonder if he's outside. You set to putting everything away.

"You're back." He greets, once more frightening you. You hate that.

"I got steak for supper. For you. I'll have some turkey."

"Great," it's not a happy remark. "You didn't come straight home."

You look away guiltily and shake your head. You're so stupid. You know he must have a tracker on the car. You grab the white paper bag.

"I was getting surprises." You offer him the bag. "Stevie, please, I'm sorry. And I meant it. I am trying."

You hold it out and he reaches inside with a scowl. His brows move in curiosity and he pulls out the Captain America plush. His expression softens and he peeks into the bag.

"Supplements. To get ready. And I'll go back for iron pills once I'm ready," you explain. "And I've been reading all night about how to get a baby. I should lay on my back and stay after for a bit. And-- and I ordered a book."

He tosses the plush and grabs you. His hands frame your face as you drop the bag and he pushes you back into the counter. His mouth covers yours as he growls.

You whine and touch his chest, overcome by his force. You were so afraid he wouldn't forgive you, that you're entirely unprepared for this. You manage to pull back.

"I-- Stevie, it won't happen now. But I threw everything out."

"I don't care," he snarls and drops his hands to your hips, "I need you right now." 

He lifts you onto the counter and you squeal. Your stomach flips but you ignore that flicker of fear. How you feel doesn't matter, as long as the Captain's happy.

[apomaro-mellow]

Corroded Coffin ransoms Steve 3

Part 2

They left Steve alone again, this time making sure he was tied up to the chair tight before leaving him in the basement. They conferenced in the living room again. By now, the sky was beginning to get dark. Winter in Hawkins could be such a bummer.

"So his parents won't be back in town a while. They'd still call to check on him, though, right?", Doug asked.

"He's right", Jeff said. "We can sneak back into his house, change the voicemail to our demands. The moment they call, they'll get it and we get our money."

Eddie rubbed his face. "Somethin' tells me it won't be that easy, gents."

"One of your famous 'feelings'?", Gareth rolled his eyes.

"Who leaves their golden child during the holidays? And when was the last time you actually saw either of his parents?", Eddie asked.

Living in a small town, you saw everybody at least once a week. Either at the grocery store, the gas station, at Benny's. It was hard to avoid people in this town unless they were a literal shut in.

"My mom had some things to say about her from that lady's luncheon the church threw", Jeff said.

"Dude, that was back in April", Gareth said, suddenly shooting to his feet. "Shit! What if he's really worthless?! We just kidnapped Harrington for nothing!"

"We let him go?", Doug suggested.

"So he can go and tell his jock friends what we did? They'll literally murder us!", Gareth shouted.

Eddie stood up and began pacing about as the others argued, all making valid points. They couldn't just let Steve go. Not only were they still penniless, Steve would probably go straight to the cops, or worse the basketball team. Getting arrested was a hundred times better than murdered by mob. It felt like they had nowhere to go.

"Shut up! Just shut the hell up!", Eddie shouted, bringing them all to silence. He took a deep breath. "Harrington said he can get us the money. I say we let him try."

"The moment we let him go, he's gonna make a run for it!", Gareth threw his hands up.

"Then we put a leash on him!", Eddie's hands also went into the air.

"If we don't do this right, we're all going to jail. Or worse", Jeff said.

Eddie opened his mouth only to freeze when he had an epiphany. Yes....yeah a way to kill two birds with one stone. He started mumbling to himself, pacing about the living room again before clapping his hands together.

"I got it!"

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

Steve could hear them shouting above, but couldn't make out every word. Not like he needed to anyway, he could figure out what they were talking about. It had to be him. Maybe it finally sunk in that they couldn't get a ransom from his parents and they were brainstorming a new plan. He hoped in involved letting him go.

His stomach growled.

Or letting him eat. God, it must've been hours since they grabbed him.

He heard it get quiet upstairs and that made the gurgling in his stomach even louder. Then there were footsteps coming down the stairs. This time it was just Munson. He pulled up a chair and turned it backwards before sitting across from Steve, crossing his arms over the back of it.

"You said you can get us five Gs."

"Yeah? Yeah, I can do that", Steve said.

"Elaborate, Harrington."

"My folks keep a lot of expensive stuff. And believe it or not, they let me have a key to the house", Steve grinned cheekily.

"And you'd let us just, what? Ransack your house?"

Steve shrugged. "It's not my stuff. Why should I care?"

Eddie snorted. "And you wouldn't even think of calling the police and telling them exactly who took all that valuable stuff."

"You don't trust me?"

"I don't KNOW you. But I got a way you can win some points with us."

"...What?"

"You've got all the leverage right now, Harrington. But if you commit a crime, then we'd have something on you. And, we'd know you could pull off this little heist."

Steve opened his mouth only to be interrupted by his stomach again. Eddie raised a brow. "Coach got you on a diet or something?"

"You guys kidnapped me hours ago, asshole. You don't expect me to rob a bank on an empty stomach, right?"

"Not a bank, Stevie", Eddie smirked.

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

"Were the dumbbells really necessary?", Steve asked.

"We could always get you a collar and leash", Eddie said.

Before untying him completely, they had used rope to tie two fifty pound weights to his ankles. Getting up the basement stairs had been a trial. He'd been tossed a box of cereal as Eddie explained the plan, the others glaring at him the whole time.

Steve knew why they disliked him. It didn't make it any better though. After he agreed to the plan, Steve was corralled into the van, still tied to the weights. The five of them drove through town until they got to the convenience store. It was just past five pm, but with the cold and darkness, most people were holed up in their houses by now.

"You ready for this, Harrington?", Jeff asked.

"As soon as you get these weights off, yeah."

"Are we really sure about this?", Gareth asked. He hadn't stopped giving Steve the stink eye this whole time.

"Don't got much of a choice", Eddie sighed from behind the wheel. He got out and released Steve from the weights. "If my boys get any inkling about you running, Jeff'll hit you with the van again."

Steve didn't need a reminder for how that felt, but played it off, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, let's just do this already."

Part 4

Taglist

@tinyplanet95 @dammitjim02 @chaotic-waffle @missarte-beltane @im-sam-fucking-winchester @persnicketysquares @estrellami-1 @spookycollectorcandies @chocolateraccoonlights @exasperatedsighohmy

[arc-misadventures]

The Blond Stepson

Blake: Hey, Jaune.

Yang: Sup vomit boy!

Jaune: Hey, Blake what's up?

Blake: So... we have a question.

Jaune: Oh, what is it?

Yang: We've met, Weiss's family. Her sister, and her mother. But, then you went up to her mother, and said, 'hi mom,'

Jaune: Yeah, so?

Blake: You have blond hair, and deep blue eyes, Weiss, her sister, and her mother have snow white silver hair, and ice blue eyes. How is she your mom; Shouldn't you have any matching visible traits, how are is she your mom?

Jaune: Oh that, yeah I can understand why you'd be so confused. Yeah, no, Willow, that's, Weiss's mom name. Yeah, she not my birth mom, she's my stepmom.

BY: Stepmom?!

Jaune: Yep, Willow Schnee is my stepmom.

Blake: Does that mean, Weiss is your stepsister?

Jaune: Yep, she's my younger stepsister.

Yang: Oh, I guess we never realized you were siblings because you don't share the last name?

Jaune: Well, technically speaking when my dad married my stepmom, we took the, Schnee family name as our own. My full name is, Luna Jaune Arc-Schnee. But, after my dad died a few years after marrying into the, Schnee, I decided to go by the last name, Arc to honour his legacy. That, and because of my appearance most people wouldn't believe I was a, Schnee just as you guys pointed out.

Blake: Oh that makes sense.

Yang: Wait, your first name is, Luna?! Hahaha! Why do you have such a girly name?!

Jaune: Several reasons. The origin behind my first name revolves around some clever name trick involving my last name, Arc. An arc is part of a curve, an arc has a crescent in part of it. Legends say that there was once a thing called a crescent moon before it became the, Shattered Moon we all see in the nights sky today. And, lastly another name for the moon is, Luna.

Blake: Ohhh~! An etymology lesson~!

Yang: Cool story bro, but it's still a girly name.

Jaune: True, it is a girly name, and it was going to be the name of my younger sister.

Blake: W-Was...?

Yang: What do you mean by that?!

Jaune: Miscarriage.

Blake: M-M-Miscarriage?!

Yang: O-Oh... I'm sorry to hear that... I'm sorry I made fun of you, Jaune... Uhh... Luna...?

Jaune: It's alright, you didn't know, and I've long since come to terms with what happened. And, please just call me, Jaune. Only, Weiss calls me, Luna. But, only when she's angry at me...

Blake: But, isn't, Weiss always angry at you?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Only, when she is really, really angry with me...

Yang: Hehehe~!

Blake: That's a shame, Luna is a nice name for you.

Jaune: Thank you, Blake.

Yang: But, how did your dad marry, Willow Schnee? Isn't she married to that, Jacques Schnee guy?

Jaune: Blake?

Blake: ...

Yang: Did you kill him, Blake?!

Blake: What, no! The White Fang killed him!

Yang: Oh...!

Jaune: Yep, members in the, White Fang killed him via a suicide bomber. Mom was soooo distraught with his death. But, good thing that he died, Jacques may have been making money, his antics were causing all hell to everyone.

Blake: Yeah, things we're really hard on us faunas. But, after his death a lot of reforms we're made, and things got better.

Jaune: Yep, and while those reforms were happening, Willow met my dad, and they eventually got together, and I got my a new mom, a older, and younger sister.

Blake: Okay so, Willow Schnee is now your, Stepmom, and that is your stepmom.

Jaune: Yep that's Willow Arc-Schnee my lovely stepmom.

Blake: Oh, so all of you are called, Arc-Schnee?

Jaune: Yep.

Yang: So, that means your older sister, Winter. Full name is, Winter Arc-Schnee?

Jaune: Yep, that's my sister right there!

Blake: And, lastly, Weiss Arc-Schnee is your little sister.

Jaune: Yep, Weiss is my little sister.

Blake: So, what's it like have a family like them?

Jaune: What do you mean?

Blake: You've been a family since you've been what...?

Jaune: Five. I was five years old when my dad married into the, Schnee family.

Blake: So, what has it been like to be a part of the, Arc-Schnee family for thirteen years?

Jaune: Oh, well having a mom like, Willow is...

~~~

Jaune: M-M-Mom?!

Willow: Yes dear~?

Jaune: I c-can bathe by myself, I don't need your help!

Willow: Oh~? But, can't your mother bathe with her precious little boy like she did in the past~?

Jaune: M-M-Mom?! I'm not a child anymore, and the last time we bathed together you weren't naked?!

Willow: Oh, but I don't have any swimsuits anymore, and I don't want to get water on any of my clothes. Besides...

"Boing~!"

Jaune: EEP?!

Willow: I can't do this to you~!

Jaune: M-M-Mom?!

Willow : Willow~! I told you to call me, Willow, Deary~!

Jaune: W-Willow?! Y-Your chest i-i-is... Oh no?!

Willow: Oh no? Ohh~! My my my~! It's so big~! Don't worry, Jaune, i'll take care of it~!

Jaune: Ahh, Willow?!

Willow: Oh my~! It's so hot, and long~! Why, it's even poking out from between my breasts~! Which means I could even~?

"Chu~!"

Jaune: Ahh-ha-haa?!

Willow: Mmmm~! My, don't you taste delicious~!

Jaune: W-Willow?!

Willow: Now come on deary~! Mommy, wants you to give her another taste from the tap~!

Jaune: Oh gods... T-They're so warm...

Willow: Yes~! That's it, Jaune~! Give, Mommy her facial cream~!

~~~

Jaune: I think, Willow always wanted a son, so she accepted me on as her son with no hesitation. And, I liked that she did that. It was really nice to have a mom again.

Yang: Yeah, I know how it feels to live without a mom...

Blake: Did your sisters also accept you into the family?

Jaune: Uhh well... I'm never sure about, Weiss. Winter on the other hand.

~~~

Winter: Ahh~! Fuck!

Jaune: Ahh!

Winter: Come on, Jaune~! You're not giving up now are you?

Jaune: Not in the slightest! But, damn, Big Sis! You're really going at it! What kind of bastard did you have to deal with today?

Winter: Ahh fuck~! I had to deal with a bunch of stuck up assholes with, General Ironwood! Fuckers pinched my ass!

Jaune: What?! This is my ass! Only I'm allowed to pinch it!

Winter: Ohhhhh fuuuck~! Pinch my fat ass! Remind me who it belongs to!

Jaune: We've had angry sex before! But, damn you're furious! What else happened?

Winter: So deep~! I had to... Ahh~! I had to deal with... Ohh~! I had to deal with some pompous fucker trying to force a marriage with me! Again! Thinking that I'd marry that fat boar, when I have a real man taking care of me right here!

Jaune: Ahh~! You're so fucking hot, Big Sis~!

Winter: Don't I know it~! Now come on, Jaune~! Dump a fat load into me, remind me why you'll become my future husband~!

Jaune: As you wish, Big Sis~!

Winter: Come on! Come on! Come on! Fill me up! Fill me up! Fill me...?!

Jaune: HERK!

Winter: UuuuuuuuUP~!

Jaune: Ahh... Fuck...

Winter: So... so warm...

Jaune: Ahhh... Feeling better, Winter?

Winter: No... Maybe another load will help~!

Jaune: Alright~! But, please... Don't scratch up my back again...

Winter: Oh, Jaune~! You know you love it~!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Yeah... yeah I do...

~~~

Jaune: Winter tends to dot on me a lot. Honestly she tends to spoil me a lot. But, she did teach me how to use my fathers sword, we still spar together when ever we met. Though, to say it's a spar is a bit of a lie... It's usually a one sided slaughter as she vents out her frustrations out on me.

Blake: Well considering how angry we've seen, Weiss get. Her anger must be on a whole another level.

Yang: What do you expect from, Weiss Squared?

Jaune: Weiss Squared? Winter isn't...?!

Jaune: ...?

Jaune: Winter's taller, more developed, more skilled... Shit, Winter is, Weiss Squared...

Yang: Haha! Told yeah!

Blake: You best not tell her that, she'll probably lose it if you did.

Jaune: Yeah, Weiss doesn't like to be compared to, Winter, even me at times. Weiss has a bit of an inferiority complex.

Blake: Really?

Yang: It's because she's short.

Jaune: Yes.

Yang: So, what's like having, Winter Square Root as a little sister?

Jaune: Boo.

Blake: Yeah that was bad.

Yang: Tough crowd... Anyway, what's it like having, Weiss as a little sister?

Jaune: Well...

~~~

Weiss: J-J-Jaune...?!

Jaune: Hmm?

Weiss: Y-You're hand... Mmph~!

Jaune: What of it?

Weiss: J-Jaune... W-We're in the middle of class... Ahh~!

Jaune: So?

Weiss: W-We can't do this~! W-We'll get... Ohh~! Caught~!

Jaune: Oh, Weiss~! You, and I both know you like to do it in public~!

Weiss: B-But, in front of all our classmates~!

Jaune: You're complaining about that now? Didn't you hide under the desk for a snack~?

Weiss: T-That was... Mmmm~! Jaune~! Your fingers~!

Jaune: You feel quite moist~! You enjoying yourself~?

Weiss: MmmmmmMmm~! J-J-Jaune~!

Jaune: Just a little more~!

Weiss: Mmm... Ahhahhhuhhhh~!

Jaune: Make sure you keep quiet, Snow Angel~!

Weiss: EEP... MPHH?!

Jaune: Pity, you couldn't make a sound. I do love to hear you sing~!

Weiss: N-Not... Ahhh~! In public... P-People would hear.

Jaune: Don't worry, you were quiet no one heard you, you were quiet. Unless...

Weiss: U-Unless what...?

Jaune: Unless you're a bunny faunas with large ears who has a habit of eaves dropping on people.

Velvet: Eep!

Weiss: Gods dammit, Luna!

~~~

Jaune: While we don't get along in public, it's actually a ruse to trick people. We get along just fine. In fact, Weiss loves it when I dote on her, she likes to be pampered. Actually, if you ever get, Weiss, angry, like really angry. Throw white chocolate at her, she has an insane sweet tooth when it comes to white chocolate.

Yang: That's good to know.

Blake: Yeah, and thanks for telling us who, Luna is!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: W-What do you mean?

Yang: We over heard, Weiss mentioned someone named, Luna. Or, well, Blake did.

Blake: Even in the shower, Weiss can sing pretty loud~! Luna~!

Jaune: ...

Yang: Yesterday, Blake, overheard her moaning out that name when she peaked~!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Damn faunas hearing... If you'll excuse me, I need to make a call.

: Hey, Lulu, what's up?

Jaune: Hey, Coco, yeah I need to take care of, Snow Angels needs. You know any good love hotels?

Yang: They're going where?

Blake: Kinky~!

Coco: Oh~? You want to hear you little, Snow Angel sing~?

Jaune: Something tells me she needs to let lose.

Coco: Well, that doesn't surprise me. You know how pent up my little BunBun get's~! So, a good love hotel, I'd recommend the, Golden Lotus. It's posh enough for the little princess.

Jaune: Thanks, Coco I owe you one.

Coco: Let's go on a shopping trip then~!

Jaune: I'm not paying this time.

Coco: Phooey... Alright, I'll leave you two be. Have fun you two~!

Jaune: Thanks, Coco. Talk to you later.

Jaune: Okay, one more call...

Jaune: ...

: Jaune, what is it?

Jaune: Weiss? Opera house. Landing pads. Now.

Weiss: Y-Yes, Sir!

Jaune: Okay then...

Jaune: Now then... does anyone else know about the two of us?

Yang: Just, Ruby.

Jaune: Okay, I'll have, Weiss explain our relationship to you further. Till later then.

Yang: Bye!

Blake: Have fun!

YB: ...

Blake: They have a booty call codename!

Yang: Fuck that's hot!

[thezombieprostitute]

Just for You

Summary: When moving from Steve fails because of proximity, you decide to make some changes in your life.

Follow up to Unrequited.

Word Count: ~1.8k

A/N: Reader is female. No other physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Angst. Please let me know if I missed any.

You settled in to your new office. After trying and failing to get over your crush on Steve, you asked for a switch in office partners. Barnes and Steve had projects that were more in line with each other so making them office-mates made sense.

"Trying to get rid of me?" Steve teased when you told him about the move.

"Steve, let's be serious here." His smile drops at your tone. "I asked you out, you said you weren't interested and I continued to try to flirt. I refused to take 'no' for an answer. I even went so far as to try to push you into a dance with me but you probably picked up on that so you danced with everyone else."

Steve's nods in memory of that night.

"Since then, I've tried my damnedest to be professional. To kill the crush. But I can't do that if I'm sitting across from you every single day. Yeah, down the hall isn't much better, but it's something."

"If you ever need a friend--"

"I know, Steve. I promise, I know." You put up a fake smile as you finish packing up your things to trade offices with Barnes.

The next month goes by a lot easier for you. There's still some lingering sadness, but that's the norm for being rejected, right? Every time you see Steve is easier than the last. Nothing but nods shared between the two of you.

A departmental meeting is called by the Department Dean. It's in a small board room but the Dean promises it'll be quick so no one gets too claustrophobic.

"We're going to have a guest in the department next week," he announces. "A famous author who's looking to get some historical accuracy for his next book."

There were some murmurings in the crowded room, comments wondering who the author was.

"His family has donated a lot f money to our university, including our department, so I expect everyone to be polite."

The murmurings become grumblings. If the Dean has to warn you like this, you're not sure this author is worth knowing.

He points to you, "the book he's writing is centered in the period of history you're studying so expect him to be around you more than others. I've told him to respect office hours, but we'll see how that goes."

You nod in understanding as the Dean points to a few others who might be visited. You're not looking forward to this.

There's a single knock at your office door before the visitor comes in and sits across from you. He looks vaguely familiar and has the air of someone who's used to doing what he wants.

"You must be the author I was told was visiting," you say with a customer service smile.

He smiles in return, his less forced. "Yup," he replies, making the "p" pop. "Do you know me? Have you read my works?"

"You look familiar, but I can't place you," you admit.

He smirks and removes his sunglasses. "How about now?"

"Oh! Drysdale!" your eyes widen. "You wrote the Clint Barton Series of urban fantasy mystery novels!"

"You're a fan," he says with a wink. "I think I'm going to like working with you."

"We'll see," you chuckle. "I do have classes to teach, papers to grade and research of my own to do so, going forward, would it be possible to schedule meetings instead of having you drop in unannounced?"

"I prefer to come and go as I please," he purrs. "But I suppose I can make an exception. Just for you." He winks and heat rushes to your face.

As the semester continues Ransom ends up spending more and more time with you, in and out of your office. Sure, he could put on airs and act like an ass, but he was never like that towards you. He even pulled back on his asshole nature when he saw how it could upset you. He kept his mouth shut when your students showed up asking for extensions because they "forgot there was even a paper assigned." Instead he'd joke about it with you afterwards.

It was Ransom's idea to continue your discussion at a restaurant off campus. You were legitimately enjoying talking with him so you agreed. He even offered to drive you there in his BMW that you were scared to touch in case you somehow damaged it.

On the way you asked, "do you always take fans out to dinner?"

Ransom smirks, "I'm making an exception. Just for you."

"I'm honored," you smile as you look away nervously.

"Did you let your boyfriend know where we're going?"

"Oh, I'm not seeing anyone," you're quick to correct him.

He raises an eyebrow. "How the hell are you single? Too busy with work and school or something?"

You shrug. "It just...didn't work out. He wasn't interested."

Ransom scoffs and shakes his head. "Then he's an idiot."

"Or I'm just not his type. I have to accept that."

"No you don't," Ransom counters. "You are allowed to be super petty. You're gorgeous, intelligent and a good person. How is that not someone's type? Is he some bitch boy who needs to be the smart one in the relationship? I'll bet he's an asshole and you're better off."

"He's a good guy," you argue. "Maybe he's gay? Maybe he prefers someone with different interests? It doesn't matter because he's not interested and I've been working hard to move on."

"So you got yourself a rebound? Nice."

"What? No! I'm not that kind of person." You cross your arms, suddenly wondering if this dinner was a good idea.

"That's fair," he backs down. "Though I still maintain you should let yourself be at least a little petty if you interact with him again."

A small smile forms on your face. "I did let myself get more pedantic when he asked for help with his thesis."

Ransom smirks, "very nice."

After that first dinner, Ransom started offering to take you out more often claiming he enjoyed the conversation. You can't deny that you enjoy it as well. Ransom has the ability to make you feel like you're the most important person in the room. At first it made you feel shy, having someone so focused on you. But as you continued to meet for his book, as you continued the conversations outside of your office, you became more and more comfortable around him.

For his part, Ransom continued to soften when he was around you. And only you. When it was just the two of you, he was able to drop the mask of haughtiness and disinterest completely. Even if someone interrupted, he wasn't as mean about it as he once had been.

And then there were the gifts. The end of the semester brought with it final exams for yourself and your students. Ransom promised he was okay with not meeting up for a bit, that he'd use this as time to focus on writing, "using all of the lessons learned from our talks." And while he didn't show up to your office, there were regular food deliveries with a note from him reminding you to take care of yourself. He also bought your department a couple electric kettles so you wouldn't have to microwave water to make your tea as well as a keurig machine. The Dean had made sure to pull you aside to thank you for all the time you put in with Ransom.

But it's not like it was all that difficult for you. Once you worked past his icy, better-than-you exterior, he was actually pretty pleasant to be around. During the time apart, when you'd message him to thank him for the food, you'd sometimes get up the courage to say you missed chatting with him. He really knew how to make you feel special, listened to, appreciated. You didn't realize how much you needed that. And it really helped when you felt like you were drowning in papers to read, grade, research and write!

When things finally died down enough to meet again, Ransom apparently dropped everything so he could visit you. You messaged him that your schedule was now more open and after only an hour he was knocking on your door.

"You look exhausted," he states. "How about a spa treatment? On me."

You chuckle as your face heats up, "that does sound lovely but I've still got things to do. How have you been?"

"Honestly? Miserable." Your eyes soften in sympathy and concern. "I've missed you, too. And, at the risk of making an idiot of myself, I'd like to be more than work partners, more than friends."

"I'd love to date you, Ransom," you state.

"But?"

"But what?" you shake your head, confused. "I really enjoy your company. You're good to me. You make me feel like I matter. There's no 'but' here."

Ransom's expression switches to one of relief as his shoulders relax. "I can't tell you how good it is to hear that."

He closes the space between you, puts a hand behind your head and brings you in for a kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and eagerly return his affection.

There's a knock and a polite cough at the door, making you break the kiss, irritation written all over your face and Ransom's at the interruption.

"What?"

In the doorway stands Steve, holding a flyer. Taken aback at the attitude he backs up a step. "Um...I just...There's another themed dance to celebrate the end of the school year. Just thought...maybe you'd want to know about it."

He hands you the flyer and quickly walks out.

"You like dancing?" Ransom asks, glancing at the flyer.

"I did," you pout.

"What happened?"

With a sigh you tell Ransom the story of the New Year's Eve disaster. He coos, reassures, and comforts as you recount your pain and embarrassment, finally pulling you in for a hug as his hand gently rubs up and down your back.

When you finish the story, Ransom pulls away just enough to look you in the eyes. "You remember what I said about your right to be petty?"

"Yeah?"

"We're gonna get you that spa treatment, a brand new dress, just for the dance, and I'll make sure you don't have to worry about sitting out for any dance because I'll be on your arm all night. He's gonna realize what he could have had and you're going to feel good about yourself, as you deserve."

"You dance?"

"Not really," he admits. "But I'll make an exception. Just for you."

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @peaches1958; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[queers-gambit]

Menace

prompt: ( request that i accidentally deleted ) in essence, "drabble about Tangerine going to the bathroom and texting Reader 'come here'."

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.4k+

warnings: cursing, OC!Tangerine, we talk mental health (social anxiety), established relationship, busy public work settings, the request and then some, alcohol consumption, smut, bathroom sex at a work event (Cherry, what the fuck?), handguns and mild depiction of violence 'cause it's Tangerine, i give him a 'real' name (Aaron), not edited.

"This is such bullshit, sugar, c'mon, fuck are we doin' here?" Tangerine snipped in your ear, his arm curled protectively around your waist as he glared at those in rich suits and expensive colognes around him. "We don't belong 'round this lot, they're just here t'wave their money. There's no real reason for us bein' here, sweet girl, c'mon, let's just shove off. Better than chokin' on whatever this lot's wearin' - I mean, Christ Alive, smells like a bloody Bloomingdales, don't it?"

You smiled prettily in case of watchful eyes, telling him sternly in a sweet tone, "Lovie, I told you, my boss said we were needed for at least cocktail hour. We can leave before dinner, okay?"

"This is gonna last fuckin' hours, princess, c'mon, we should just go," he grumbled. "Fuck these people and these bullshit fundraisers."

"We'll be okay, I promise," you soothed sweetly, the honest opposite of Tangerine - leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. You were constantly touching one another and early in your relationship, you realized how much you loved kissing him and completely forewent lipsticks or glosses because of it. Another peck and you told him in a soft tone, "C'mon, just remember we said we'd pick up Changs on our way home and there's that bottle of nice Merlot A - I mean, Lemon gave us," you almost used your boyfriend's brother's real name, but caught yourself with plenty of time.

"Hmm," he smirked, his favorite takeout place being a happy distraction. "Cheat day sounds nice, yeah, but still don't make this go any faster, now does it?"

"No, but we're not gonna be here forever," you soothed, turning into his chest to pet the expensive material of this navy three-piece suit. "You look so handsome, my love. Really love seein' you in navy suits, and the white button up looks really clean with it." Tangerine smiled down at you, the bustle around you melting away as he could only hear, see, smell, feel, and focus on you. Then, you spoke coyly as you fixed his tie, "If you behave the rest of the night, I promise I'll make it up t'you. Yeah? Maybe wear that li'l white thing you love?" He perked up, but before he could respond, you ended, "Or maybe I already have it on - anyways, so, listen t'me, I have to go talk t'some people and do the job that pays me, so I suggest you just take a deep breath; get another drink, find Lemon, and then we'll go soon, okay?"

He looked around the usual investors his private employer had to shmooze for donated funding and frowned when he was acutely aware of not just the sheer number, but how many "important" people attended the evening's gala. The Black Market was funded by multiple someones; most of whom were in this very room and while under the radar, it still made Tangerine feel as if a huge target was painted on the building's wall. There was always a need for services outside the law and these richie-riches couldn't take the money with them to the grave, so, they donated money if it meant they were "well taken care of".

The Twins' handler insisted they attend the gala tonight; being well aware that they were more like show ponies for being on display for investors to see. Putting a face to names made myth into reality, and your boyfriend was a hot commodity due to his skill as a contract killer. He and his brother were legends around the various active agencies, investors happy to see their money going to good use; all wanting to know what they had bought for a price-tag of several billion.

The common conversation of the evening was how readily available The Organization was able to offer their services with no questions asked, no matter what. Tan hated these events, feeling nauseated, overstimulated, overwhelmed; overall, exploited by his employer as attendees gossiped about the Bolivia Job, the Kyoto Crash, the Libyan Disaster, and a few other memorable jobs Tan and Lemon were involved in. Their beady little eyes followed him around, mouths hidden behind crystal flutes of champagne, and bodies always shied away from him as if he were a wild beast.

Sure, they pay to sit and gather in the arena, but flee when the raging bull they've helped antagonize gets loose.

Then you came along and took on the brunt end of these social events. Tan was never quite sure how you got involved in this life, you always giving a new answer, but knew you had gone to university for multiple degrees - one being in something called "communications". Now, if you had asked Tan a few years ago, he'd've said that was a bullshit job, bullshit degree, a total waste of time. Now that his popularity had grown and he was exposed to more social obligations, he was was beyond grateful to have someone navigate this with him. Tangerine's bad attitude most of the time was just a deflection, being why you and Lemon could handle him; knowing the lad's anxiety often choked him past logic and made him a sarcastic, violent cunt.

When Tangerine forced himself back to reality after glaring at the other warm bodies mingling around, Tangerine's arm contracted tight enough that he could bring you in for a quick kiss. Quietly, he muttered in your ear, "I'll give you half an hour, darling, no more."

"No less," your eyes rolled but your lips were spread in a grin. He chuckled and softened his expression; whoever might've been watching feeling something akin to shock and awe (like one felt when they saw a lion in person for the first time), knowing Tangerine was a horribly stoic, violent, and short-tempered man. To see him now, amused and soft with such a beauty of a woman - well, it was jarring. He was still known to be an asshole, but it seemed you had a stronger leash on Tangerine than his handler ever did. But perhaps, no stronger than Lemon.

"Right," Tan sighed. "What was first on your list fa' me t'do?"

"You're gonna take a deep breath, get another drink, and then find Lemon," you repeated softly, "but I'm gonna say you owe me a kiss before that drink."

Tan huffed.

"That wasn't a deep breath, Tan, c'mon, we've been over this," you mock glared, feeling both his hands secure to your hips. He pet the expensive silk you wore with his thumbs, the pocket square resting over his heart a tailored square of the same material.

"Sweetheart - "

"In through your nose, out through your mouth, Tan," you cut him off. "Together, I'll do it with you, c'mon. In..."

Tangerine adjusted his stance in those shining Italian leather shoes you gifted him for Christmas that year. He took a steady breath in through his nose when you did, watching for your subtle nod, then exhaling slowly through his mouth - when you did. Again, together, in through the nose, your nod after about seven seconds, then exhaled through the mouth. After one more, you smiled at him in encouragement, both hands splayed on his lapels; his own moving so they coiled around you.

"All right," he grumbled, "yeah, it helps, pretty girl."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Feel better?"

"Don't push it, plum," he mumbled, bringing you in closer so he could kiss the hinge of your jaw, just below your ear while stroking your spine with his fingertips. "Thank you," he whispered, mustache tickling your skin, "always know how t'get me out me head, don't'cha?"

"I try, but you don't always make it easy, you know?" You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth to smother your grin, leaning into his chest. "Kiss me, please, then go get a drink and find Lemon. Don't talk to the investors," you warned, adding, "please."

This made a mischievous smirk spread across his lips, "Awe, hey, c'mon, aren't they here t'see me? I can say hello. You won't even 'ave'ta introduce me, they'll know me."

"Okay, yes, they're here t'see the lot of yah, but they're not here to get yelled at, yeah? Or called cunts? Insulted in any manner?" You sang in a light tone; caressing his cheek to guide him to your lips for a long desired kiss. The hand on his cheek curled around to grip the back of his neck, gently tugging the neat strands of hair as you tried to convey your pride.

Social anxiety was a bitch and though he'd deny it vehemently, Tan was riddled with it. Seeing him endure this evening (despite the constant complaining) was a mighty feat, wanting your kiss to spark something in his gut that would cause his confidence to soar so it'd put a bit of "pep in his step" to get through the rest of the evening.

And boy, did it.

After parting ways, Tangerine was left to get his drink with a full-chub that made him shake both legs out in an attempt to hide his arousal. Yet as he watched you melt seamlessly into the crowd, he couldn't get the picture out of his mind that maybe you were wearing that white thing he liked. Tan leaned on the bar top, cock stirring to life with each passing second; watching you mingle and mix and shmooze investors and wanting nothing more than to interrupt and get you alone. With his drink, he located Lemon, trying to forget the way his cock was begging for attention while you worked your magic on these walking-talking-money-bags.

"All right, bruv?" Lemon asked, the two standing with a few other agents that were wrangled in for the event.

"Hmm?"

Lemon glared, then snickered to himself. "Oh, fuck me, mate, you're fucked, aren't you?"

"Come off it," Tan took another slug from the expensive whiskey glass. "'S only me second."

Lemon blinked in shock, "That's not possible. You hate these fancy things, you don't like bein' sober at'em."

"I've been distracted."

"No shit, 'cause your lady's here, gotta be on your best behavior, don't yah?" Lemon snickered, sighing as he shook his head and accepted the champagne being passed around by a waiter with a full tray. "But enough that you ain't been drinkin'? Yeah, right - oh, shit, wait," he beamed, "didn't Y/N get that administrative promotion? It's that, ain't it? Ho-ho!" He laughed, "Yeah? Don't tell me you've been her arm candy all night, mate?"

"We've been tucked away, actually," Tan admitted, missing the way Lemon blinked in shock 'cause he was searching for you in the deepening crowd. "She knows I don't like these things, right, so, we stood away from 'em all, ova there," he pointed off to where Lemon knew was roped off for VIPs. "We were just talkin', laughin'. She makes these shitty li'l jokes, you know? Kept us more entertained than the rest of these fucks," Tangerine chuckled, hand hiding his grin of amusement as he wiped around his mouth to play it off.

This made Lemon nod with impression, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, but," Tan sniffled, "duty calls, she's gotta work a bit, get some donations goin'. Apparently, I'm not allowed t'talk t'the fancy donors."

Lemon checked his watch, "Fair enough, you did punch that Sultan - "

"Oh, come the fuck off it, that was three years ago! He was fine."

"You broke his nose, mate. You want another?"

Tangerine skulled the last of his drink, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm good, mate. Might be time t'go soon."

"I'll leave when you two do, wouldn't wanna be stuck here alone," Lemon agreed, the two turning away to stand at a cocktail table together and away from the others. "This is why we don't work inna office, this lot - Jesus, fuck. Oh, shit, oi, mate, you seen who all's here tonight? Fuck's sake..."

"Yeah, mate, I've seen 'em all, but there's too many t'know who the fuck you mean specifically." He pulled his phone out as Lemon rumbled on in excited impression about the evening's guests to send you a quick text,

wrap it up, pretty girl. i got things i wanna do to you that ain't for others to see unless they pay.

He could see you from where he and Lemon stood; and when your phone chimed, you checked it almost instantly, smiling at the message. He waited for your rapid reply,

if my panties had a crotch, they'd be soaked. love you in blue 💙

That was enough for Tangerine, who nodded at his brother, "Gimme a minute, yeah? Gonna pop off t'the loo before we go. Have another," he pointed to the drink in Lemon's hand as he backed away, "but not that frilly shit, mate, have a real fuckin' drink. Oi!" He snapped his fingers at a passing waitress, "Sorry, sweetheart, yeah, my bruva, there," he pointed at Lemon, who waved awkwardly, "will take a double whiskey, on the rocks, yeah, and he likes them lemon twists. That somethin' you can grab for him, love?"

"Absolutely," she nodded, high-strung ponytail swishing.

Tangerine snickered lightly, shelling out a hefty tip that she accepted, "And bring him a Lemon Drop shot, too, please."

"Anything else, sir?"

"Ah, if you'd like, maybe your number for him, too?" Tan instigated, hearing Lemon groan and grumble in embarrassment. "My bruva, there, he's bloody golden, yeah? Can't do no better, man just has no flaws - less we count tha' he's a wee bit shy, innit? Pretty ladies intimidate him a bit, but he's the bravest man I fuckin' know. Just gotta warm 'im up a bit, don't'cha know?"

"He sounds like a real gentleman. But maybe I can give mine if you give your number to my friend?" The waitress countered, pointing towards the central bar that the servers operated out of. There was a decently pretty girl with dark hair, twiddling her fingers at them with a pearly grin. "She's sweet, kind, absolutely wild in bed - "

"Sounds like an even deal, sweets, but you see - I've got a woman, yeah? And my lady? Well, she's kinda one of your bosses tonight, so, uh, might not be a good idea now, would it? She gets all territorial, protective, likes what's hers t'be just hers - ain't real big on sharin'." The waitress flushed in embarrassment. "But my bruva, here," Tan pointed back at Lemon while unlocking his phone, "he's a fuckin' don, yeah? Ain't nobody gonna treat cha' t'a better night. Oi, hey, I'll be back, bruv," he called to Lem with a smirk, then reminded the waitress, "double whiskey, lemon twist, on the rocks. And that Lemon Drop, please."

"Of course, sir, right on it," she agreed, Tangerine finally backing away fully. He typed you a new message,

meet me in the bathroom right now

Inside, it was decently spacious; unisex, six stalls, made of pristine marble, veiled fluorescent lighting, and there was a lock on the door - which Tan cared most about.

He planted himself behind the two other men at the walled-off urinals, hands clasping together in front of him. "Right, then, you two," he gestured between them, "got 'bout 30 seconds to finish yourselves and get the fuck outta here." He pulled the usual gun from his waistband, threatening, "Or I'll give you fuckin' fucks a show 'bout all them stories you love whisperin' 'bout. Yeah? How's that? Hey? Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!"

They were barely zipped up and gone by the time Tangerine got to second 21; you entering right as the two were scurrying for the swinging-open door. You yelped a little, jumping out of their way, offering Tangerine a strange look and musing, "Uh, what was that? You fightin' in the privy, again?"

He put his handgun away as he stalked towards you, "Just makin' sure we wouldn't be interrupted."

"Tan, hell no, there's so many people!"

He yanked you from the doorway, making sure it was shut before locking it loudly. "Then we gotta be quick, don't we? C'mon, doll, real fast, bosses won't even question you bein' gone."

"I still have work - "

"Nah, nah," he pawed your gown's skirts upward, "you been teasin' me all fuckin' night, lookin' too fuckin' good - I can't wait, baby. Just look so Goddamn pretty, feels like I'm losin' my mind. Lemme see yah," he got the silk bunched around your waist, gasping loudly when he saw your panties. "You really did wear 'em... Like the good girl you are," he purred, one hand dropping the silk to run his hand over the strappy and lacy material you wore. "Swear I'll take my time with yah at home, the way I want - but can't do that here, just needa be inside yah, sugar, c'mere."

"Baby," you gasped when his fingertips ghosted around your cunt that was bare due to the crotchless cutout. "I only need a-a-a," you trailed off, panting when one finger suddenly plunged into your cunt, "ohhh, shiiiit. Yes, baby, oh, God!"

"Keep talkin'," He smirked, backing you up towards the marble counter. "C'mon, tell me off. Tell me what's more important right now, huh? More important than this? Is it work? Huh? Work got you distracted? Wanna get back t'it instead of bein' here with me?" The heels of your palms slammed into the pristine counter, whimpering when he pumped erratically. "Aht, here you go," he smirked, pausing to pull his hand free of your warmth; seizing your waist and helping hoist you back onto the sink's ledge. Your lips meshed sloppily with his, Tan letting you dominate the kiss because you were mewling - so desperate for him, you were nearly suckling on him; hands trembling as they held his cheeks with your manicured fingertips. When your legs instantly spread to accommodate Tangerine's hulking form, grinding your hips into him, he seethed, "Good girl," before sinking his digit back into your wet heat that halted your ministrations out of pure relieving pleasure.

"You're a menace," you panted against his mouth when you remembered reality, Tangerine's belt rattling open and his zipper teeth shrieking when you shucked them open. "Gimme," you whispered, reaching for him; dropping his pants the rest of the way to take his pulsing cock in hand. "This what you wanted? Right? Why you texted me? Interrupted me?"

"Exactly," he licked his lips before smashing them to yours in a suffocating kiss, always the one to help you push boundaries and do things you never thought you'd ever do if not for him. "Why're you so wet? Huh? Why's that? Had this on your mind, too, didn't'cha, dirty girl? Why else would you wear my favorite?"

"'T reward you for tonight," you panted, giving his cock a few pumps. "'S my scene, not yours, just so fucking proud of yah - for how you did, gettin' through it," you guided him to your weeping entrance after pushing his hand from you, both gasping when his cockhead notched on the lip of your cunt. "Yes, yes, yes, yes," you chanted, praising him as he sunk his hips into your own; effectively blurring your mind.

He grunted, needing a single moment to press his balls between you two as he waited for you to accommodate to his size. Forehead to forehead, your eyes remained shut; breathing the same air, feeling your insides fluttering at the size of him. His mouth was at your ear, demanding, "Tell me again, pretty girl."

You knew what he wanted, letting your legs spread a little wider and held onto his shoulders since this position didn't allow for much else. You whimpered, "You did so good tonight, baby. Oh, fuck, I'm so proud of you - you did so fuckin' good." He groaned and retracted his hips, beginning a brutal pace and messy rhythm to pump himself in deep strokes. You had to hold onto his upper arms now to allow him space to move. "Always so good for me, but tonight? Fuck - you're so good, Aaron. So fucking good - and tonight you were fucking amazing. I'm so proud, so fucking proud of you," you whimpered, his hands holding your hips so the counter could pose as leverage to allow him the angle to pound up into you while shifting you down on him.

"Almost there, baby," he begged, eyes all over. He loved the sight of your 'panties' still on; the criss-crossing of the straps and pattern of the lace still in place while his cock made a mess of you. Your gown glittered in this light, your skin tacky with a thin layer of sweat from your arousal that made him dip low and lick a bold stripe between your breasts. "Lemme see - lemme get a taste, doll, want you in my mouth," he muttered against your cleavage, still holding you on his cock as you pulled a tit free. You gave a shrill yelp when Tangerine surged forward suddenly and bit harshly on your budding, sensitive nipple; but it was in-sync with him changing the pace of his thrusting to something borderline painful.

It wasn't a secret he was well-endowed, there wasn't much to the imagination with the way his suits are tailored.

But having ten(plus) inches; fully swollen, engorged, jackhammering into you at this angle? It wasn't the most pleasurable at first, but with Tan licking, nipping, and sucking at both nipples now, you endured until moaning authentically. You were all but hanging off the counter by now, Tan the only reason you weren't on the floor; using upper body strength to hold onto him while slithering a hand toy your stomach to toy with your enlarged clit.

It took very little time of harsh pressure from your fingers to come undone, pleasure mounting to a crescendo before shattering your grip to reality. With a gasp, your hips humped into Tan's by your own blinding vocation; arms tight around his shoulders to remain upright as you milked yourself.

The contraction of your cunt was all Tangerine needed, and four slaps of his balls later had him doubling over and pinning you in a small slam, chest-to-chest, to the marble.

"Oh, my fuckin' God," you panted in appreciation.

"Shit," he realized, "shit, fuck, did I hurt you? Fuck - baby - "

"I'm not hurt," you panted, keeping a tight hold to refuse him from standing up, "just happy."

He deflated with a small chuckle. In your neck, he mumbled, "I can't feel my legs."

"Wanna sit?"

"Nah, not here," he mused, licking the sweaty skin of your pulse point. "Just had t'wear the li'l white ones, didn't'cha?"

"You get all worked up when I do."

"With good reason, should see yourself the way that I do - Goddamn, doll. My girl's divine, too good for these fuckers out here."

You were about to retort, but there was a loud, rapid banging at the locked door. "Hey! Hey! Whoever's in there! There's people that need in, you fucking arseholes! Get your dick wet at your own place, you broke bitches!"

You gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth as Tangerine finally stood off you, keeping you balanced on the counter as you sat up. "Oh, my fucking God, Tan! I-I-I-I'm gonna get fired! Oh, holy shit! This isn't happening!"

"No - "

"Aaron, we were literally just caught - "

"Hey, hey, just breathe," he paused, sighing as he caressed your cheek. "Let me handle this for us, okay? The way you protect me, let me protect you. Yeah?"

You nodded mutely, looking ready to burst into tears. After Tan pulled out and helped you clean up (ignoring the warm cum that dripped down your inner thighs), he simply wrapped you in his navy suit jacket, rolled up his crisp white sleeves, and pulled out his handgun. "Oh, baby, don't - "

"Trust me," he purred, arm secure around your waist. "Oh... Shit, hang on," he set the gun down to use his hands and fix your hair, your heart soaring by the sweet, domestic gesture. "I got'cha, pretty girl, one sec - there we go, yeah," he smirked, looking proud of himself. "Yeah, all right, there we go," he cupped your cheeks, "all perfect."

"Thank you," you whispered.

"Now, we're gonna walk out with confidence. Just don't stop, don't look at anyone. Actually, look a li'l smug," he instructed. "And we're just gonna grab Lemon and get outta here, yeah?"

You pouted lightly, "After I get the O-K from my boss."

"Nah, we don't ask permission, just forgiveness."

"Terrible philosophy."

"I prefer effective. Ready?" He asked, picking his gun up again. You nodded, latching onto him as his arm secured around you again, then approached the door. He unlocked it loudly and yanked it open, glare instantly taking over his expression as you were met with a gaggle of angry, grumbling patrons. "We got a fuckin' problem?" Tangerine sneered, his gun winking in the dim lighting; those who were waiting instantly backing off.

You did as he advised: didn't look at anyone, didn't stop, looked a little smug. He lead you through the throng of people, hearing a woman sneer under her breath - gasping when Tan turned his gun on her. "Tangerine!" You snapped, the people around you all freezing.

"Got somethin' t'say?" He taunted the woman, who shook her head. "No? You sure? Now?" He asked, shifting the weapon over to her date's forehead. She shook her head again. This made Tan smirk, "Jealousy ain't pretty on anyone, love. Keep your fuckin' mouth shut."

"Let's go, now," you insisted, tugging on his unbuttoned waistcoat to walk away together. "Can't shoot everyone who offers insult."

"No, but word will spread," he smirked. "Ain't nobody gonna say a fuckin' word to yah now. And if they do," he shrugged, "you'll tell me. All right, now, uh," he paused you both, nodding ahead, "that's a bit of my doin'. Question is, do we interrupt?"

You peered around a person or two until Lemon and a pretty waitress was in sight. She was giggling and grinning, the two deep in conversation; just enraptured and toying with each other's hands.

"We should probably let him know we're leaving. Maybe text him?"

"So, we are leaving, huh?" Tan smirked. "No more precious work to go run off to?"

Your lips moved beside his ear, licking the shell before speaking so your cool breath fanned over the wet skin, "I can't work with your cum leakin'."

His hand groped your arse cheek tightly, "If you do, I promise t'make yah my li'l Twinkie, huh? Fuck you all night, like you deserve."

"Oh, now you wanna stay? You fuckin' serious?"

"Yeah, but, now it's a game."

"You're a fucking menace!"

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I doubt I’m the first person to come barging in saying this, but I’m not happy with how Malleus’s consequences played out. Obviously we don’t have a full translation to work with so this should be taken with a massive load of salt, but he’s really getting off with just the temporarily broken horn?

I understand why the writers did it. You can’t take one of the main cast out of the game for an extended period of time lest you impact the gacha money. And the rest of the overblot guys had but a slap on the wrist too so nothing was ever going to happen.

But still, isn’t it too convenient that there just so happens to be a precedent for Sage’s Island to excuse this exact situation because Malleus feels bad? At least the other guys had the argument that their overblots were relatively contained.

But maybe it is a fitting punishment that Malleus lost the usage of the one thing he used as a crutch. That he needs to learn how to use more than brute magical force to handle his problems. I guess I’m just bitter that Malleus always seems to get away with much more than the other characters, and here he seems to be doing it again.

Sorry if this is repetitive.

[You can read my thoughts on the book 7 finale here!]

To be fair, they did say the broken horn would take an estimated 100-200 years to grow back + would require monitoring. In his current state, I believe Malleus isn’t able to use his UM or similar “disaster-level” magic. It seems he can still use the rest of his arsenal of spells?? It looked like he used magic to mass deliver invitations and to help Lilia use his UM for the party. But we’ll have to follow-up to see for ourselves what the true range is, since we didn’t see Malleus use a lot of different spells at the end of book 7.

But yeah, other than that 😅 Seems like all is fine? Malleus is going back to school, Lilia’s still alive and returning to NRC as well, his grandma seems to be handling diplomatic matters + smoothing over foreign relationships, fae fixed the physical damage to buildings, other countries are settling back into their own daily lives, etc. I guess we should’ve expected this, given the medium and the pattern of letting OB boys off easy. It’s all for the sake of keeping the marketable characters present and still lovable. (Though I do want to point out that, because the story ended sort of quickly, Malleus may not have been granted enough time to show us how he's dealing with the aftermath or what other consequences there were. This could be something covered or expanded on in a future update, or perhaps in the manga, light novel, or anime.)

I think that maybe the new lore surrounding Sage's Island could connect with a future update (there's many theories that it could tie with Mickey or Grim), but its placement here is... I don't know, the framing of it reads as very convenient for Malleus. I'm not saying that Malleus shouldn't be forgiven or granted a chance at redemption (he certainly should, especially if we're giving this to the other OB boys). His OB may have been on a far larger scale than the others' were, but that's no reason to deny him or to think that there's 0% chance he can change for the better. What I am saying is that telling us, "This other powerful mage also did an oopsie and wasn't exiled for it, he only got scolded" feels like we're redirecting attention to someone else instead of focusing on Malleus :/ which doesn't sit right with me.

This really is not helped by the narrative bringing up all these additional details which only seem to minimize Malleus's impact on the world. No one died, no major areas were affected (save for Sage's Island), the only injuries sustained were those of some NRC students, the only physical damage sustained was mainly the Diasomnia dormitory (which was easily patched up with fairy magic), Maleficia + the headmasters are handling the press coverage of the event, there's now a group (the Fairy Dream Life Association) that adore Malleus and want to stay in the dream world, etc. I understand that the point of the big fight against Malleus was to prevent him from doing more harm--and it seems like they were successful, so good for them. I also understand that Malleus's absolute power allowed him to control space and time within his briar barrier (so I guess any deaths that would have resulted from people falling asleep while swimming, driving, cooking, etc. didn't happen?). But that feels... again, too convenient, and gives Malleus another "out" of being forced to realize he's done something truly horrible (since apparently no physical harm resulted + what little harm that did happen was easily fixed), that he potentially has blood on his hands. Does he even truly comprehend the emotional and mental turmoil he put his victims through? Maybe not all 20,000 residents, but definitely a non-zero amount of them. I don't pick up any of that based on how he's acting. Malleus doesn’t talk about or acknowledge any of that.

It doesn't even seem like his classmates hold any grudge toward him for what he did??? Even though NRC students are the exact type of people who would do that??? Yeah, Leona and a few others express shock when Crowley says Malleus is coming back to school, but I didn't see a SINGLE person protest or put up a fight or consider not showing up to Malleus's party. In fact, the first years seem oddly excited to be seeing Malleus again after all of that. It weirdly seems like there was more resistance to going to Lilia's farewell party at the beginning of book 7 (because at least there Leona expresses WANTING to leave early) than there was for Malleus's party at the end of book 7. Is this supposed to show us that the NRC students are now so pro-cooperation they don’t mind Malleus being back?? Even though those same dorm leaders were surprised at the meeting where it was announced? It’s also strange that we heard nothing about upset parents, just that parents conferences were held. You’d think there would be significant uproar from a small portion of them??

On top of all that, he also conveniently gets what he OB'd over: Lilia not leaving, not dying, and reenrolling at NRC. Malleus isn't forced to reconcile with that loss, isn't made to confront mortality for longer. It just gets pushed off to a later date. None of the other OBs are magically given what they got mad over to begin with. They had to work to overcome their own issues, but Malleus seemingly doesn't have to (because he no longer has to currently grapple with the distress of Lilia leaving), so it seems unfair that Malleus is the only one that gets it all. This could be something they tackle in like… book 8? Like I’m sure he must have feelings around him killing Lilia—but right now, he can still enjoy a happy ending and doesn’t indicate having any complications around it.

One of Malleus's horns being injured might be a physical symbol of change and may limit his magical powers (no UM, no disaster-level magic), but he's still a powerhouse seeing as he seems to have helped amplify Lilia's UM for the party + sent the invitations to everyone by magic. He can still have his power, I’m NOT saying he should have no magic or that he should be physically harmed further. But if he's to learn to use more than brute strength or magic to resolve his problems, then why not start with words? Words like, "I'm sorry", and "It was my fault", and "I shouldn't have imposed my will on you", etc. And not just to NRC, which happened in canon, but to the world.

If the story won't commit to actually assigning consequences to the world for what Malleus did, at LEAST let him handle the social repercussions of it all. Show us other students being wary around him so he has to earn back their trust instead of it being handed back to him. And why not have Malleus be the one going on TV (after he has recovered, of course) to apologize to the world instead of having his grandma handle it for him? Malleus apologizing just to those in attendance at the party isn't enough, because that insinuates his actions only affected the guests present, when, in reality, his actions scared so many other people and had them intervening. Have him say sorry to S.T.Y.X., to RSA, to all the other countries he endangered. At least do RSA (since Ambrose is also being interviewed), S.T.Y.X. (since they were largely involved in the containment), and Foothill Town residents. I would have liked it if Malleus told us how he is going to make amends. One party's nice and all, but it doesn't tell me what he is going to do in the long term to make things better.

To be clear: To reiterate, I don't want Malleus to be physically harmed or "further punished". What I want is for Malleus to actually understand that everything he did was wrong, acknowledge that he broke the trust of countless people, and actively take steps to learn and to prove to everyone he is worthy of having their trust. I'm disappointed that it seems like Twst skipped these crucial moments in favor of having a rushed happy ending. If there isn't space to do it now in book 7, give us some lines that imply he's got a plan or some ideas in mind for next update or something OTL He has maybe one or two lines tops at the party, and that's it. We really needed more to close off book 7 in a satisfactory way for his arc of learning to accept change.

Here’s to hoping that book 8 (?) can show us the things book 7’s conclusion didn’t deliver on.

[angelsndragons]

okay so as a federal worker, i tell you this not to make you panic but to give you time to do what you need to do:

it's the holiday season. in addition to the federal holidays, federal workers build up leave throughout the year. the longer you've been with the federal government, the more leave you accumulate. this time of year, many federal workers will be taking their "use or lose" leave, aka the leave they've accumulated that's over the 240 hour cap you can carry into the next calendar year.

that means if you have any renewals or want to apply to anything that requires the federal government, DO IT NOW. many departments are already understaffed but this time of year? yeah, skeleton crews are the norm.

please be patient. you can check in every week or two to see where your stuff is but please be patient. many of us are going to be working our butts off in the next three months to ensure your stuff gets done. but we're only human. if you have an agency number, calling is often better than emailing. yes, even if you have to wait on the line for a while.

notaries can be extremely backed up. if you have an appointment which requires a notary's signature, make sure that you have every single thing ready the second you walk in. you don't want to have to come back.

understand that the ship of state turns slowly. we do have a lot of mechanisms in place to keep things from falling apart completely HOWEVER this time the Executive Leadership is directly coming at us with the intention of fully dismantling certain departments. chief on their list that i've seen is the department of education. if you have a special needs child in a special ed program or are one yourself, check to see who's funding the program (feds, state, local, etc) and plan accordingly. if the feds pull out their money, you need to know who's handling the gap and what happens if it can't be filled. that goes for other programs like housing.

if the republicans control the house, senate, and white house, expect them to defund everything you care about. the only spending i can see them increasing is the department of defense and border patrol. everything else? huge budget crunch. if you think the government is slow now, is unresponsive now, oh boy, just you wait. this will send a shock wave through the economy - the feds are huge spenders in many areas (sometimes the only thing keeping places afloat). much of the government is too big and unwieldy to dismantle all at once (particularly the pieces entwined with big business) but that doesn't mean they can't launch giant holes into the things they really hate. plan accordingly.

the fda director will try to ban sending abortion pills in the mail. plan accordingly. does this step on the usps' toes? yes. do they care? nope, republicans have been trying to privatize them for years. plan accordingly.

if you want to know the baseline fuckery you'll be expected to deal with, the department of veterans' affairs was shadow run by marvel executives for two years last time. i'm not joking. the white house is going to bypass any pretense of confirming executive leadership by making every single one of them "acting director of such and such." those don't require congressional approval.

if you're a dreamer and you've applied for some kind of federal relief, i would advise you to be extremely careful. your information is in a federal database and the republicans want to round up everyone of latino descent. they've already confirmed that they want to deport whole families irrespective of citizenship to "stop family separation."

stay calm and plan accordingly.

[trippinsorrows]

ltye: in your hands

authors note: welp. here i am, once again. we're back with yet another 'what if' scenario, prompted by you lovely people in an ask that i can't seem to find to link right now. smh.

words: 3.3k

warnings: none. just sam being sam.

song inspo: in your hands by halle

Roman should have stuck with his first mind. Stayed home. Texted her some excuse about being caught up with work. She would have never found out the truth, and even if she did, he wouldn’t have given two fucks. 

Because this shit doesn’t seem to be getting any better. 

This dating thing. 

It’s gotta be at least the fifth or sixth one he’s taken her on, and each one has been just as miserable up until the point where he gets her on her knees, gagging or bouncing on his dick the minute they get back to his penthouse. Anything before that has been irksome, borderline miserable. 

Samantha is stunning. Has been since they were kids, and her body is the most desirable of the women he has on his roster. She leans on the thinner side of what he prefers, but the tits and ass are decent, regardless. She’s also just as kinky as him, which is why they’ve worked all these years.

But, the more “dates” Roman forces himself to power through, the more he’s starting to feel like bedroom activities is where it stops for them. 

Technically, he’s always known this. Even if he did have some level of desire to be in a real relationship with someone, which he doesn't, it would never be her. She’s vain, condescending, and seems to think she’s somehow better than the other women he fucks with.

If only she realized he views her just like he views the rest of the women. A warm body with a wet cunt to help him get his dick wet. 

“Roman!” Her voice cuts through his inner dialogue as he focuses on her cleavage. The dress she wore, short and tight, doesn’t help his desire to skip to the fucking part of this evening. “Did you hear what I said?”

“No.” Roman sees no sense in lying to her. “I probably don’t care either.”

She rolls her eyes and proceeds to continue like he literally didn’t just tell her he doesn’t care. “I was saying we should go somewhere.”

He’s partially intrigued now. Mostly because he’ll probably need to set her ass straight. “Where?”

She smiles and shrugs. “I don’t know. I was thinking Bora Bora.”

He shakes his head. “So go.”

She frowns, clarifying. “I said we should go, Roman.”

He scoffs, looking off at the ice sculpture in the middle of the upscale restaurant. A waste of money, in his opinion. “What the hell makes you think I have time to go to fucking Bora Bora with you?” He really wants to ask her what makes her think he would want to in the first place, but he’s trying to be somewhat less of an asshole to see if maybe this could work.

His Wise Man’s nervous voice balanced out with sage wisdom returning to the front of his mind.

“If the Elders are to force you into a marriage, why not with someone you already know? Especially someone who you know would have no issue in giving you an heir.”

If only Samantha wasn’t so fucking annoying.

She leans back in the chair. “You make time for these dates.”

Out of obligation. But, he won’t say that. “Yeah, but I can get my nut and send your ass packing in the same night. Can't do that if we're out of the fucking country.”

“You’re suck a di—”

“I’m so sorry.”

Soft. It’s the first thing that comes to mind hearing her voice. Light, almost. Kind. Even with just three words being spoken. And that’s just based off audio. Visually, Roman’s thoughts take an entirely different direction.

Stunning. 

Roman’s seen, entertained, and done a lot more with some beautiful women in his time, but the one standing at their table seems to have something more than all of them put together. She’s beautiful, easily one of the most gorgeous women he’s ever laid eyes on. And her smile, small but genuine makes him pause. As does her body.

She’s wearing the same uniform he’s noticed on the other waitresses, but none of them fill them out like she does. The white, long sleeved shirt that’s tucked into the knee length black pencil skirt can’t hide the curves he can practically see through the bland outfit. Nice, heavy breast. Curvy hips, thick thighs and an ass he can partially see from the front. 

This. This is his preferred body type. A woman who has something he can grab onto when he’s fucking her from behind. And Roman can only imagine what it would be like to be holding onto those luscious hips of hers while he—

“Oh my god, are you stupid?” Samantha’s annoying voice once again pulls him from his carnal fantasies. She gestures between herself and him. “Can you not see we’re in the middle of something?”

The girl, who Roman would guess is in her late twenties, early thirties at most, immediately looks repentant. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I was just going to apologize for your wa—”

“Whatever.” Samantha lifts her hand, silencing the girl who’s now looking down at her shoes, clearly embarrassed. “What’s the special for this evening?”

“What’s your name?” Roman’s question comes out at the same time as Samantha’s inquiry. However, his voice clearly presents with more of a commanding nature. 

She swallows. “S–Solana.”

Pretty. Just like her. 

Samantha notices the way Roman is looking at her and is fully confused as to why he’s asking this fat troll for her name. She cuts in again, in that same nasty tone. “Hello? I asked you a question.” 

Solana is clearly struggling with Samantha’s aggressiveness, Roman wondering why this bitch is directing whatever unresolved feelings she has onto this innocent girl. “Umm, I think—”

Samantha scoffs, nose turned up. “You’re our waitress, and you don’t even know what the evening special is?”

“No ma’am, I do. I’m sorry. It’s just—it’s been a long day.” There’s a weight to her words, a sadness in her voice and in her pretty brown eyes. Roman notices all of these things and finds himself wondering what the story is. Everyone has one, and hers is suddenly of interest to him. For reasons he cannot understand. 

“Pretty unprofessional to bring up your personal life, don’t you think?”

Solana closes her eyes, pausing before answering. She looks exhausted. Mentally and physically. “It’s Squab. That’s the main co—”

“I’m a vegetarian. I don’t eat meat.” Roman rolls his eyes. This hoe has been saying that since they were in high school, yet every so often she goes back to having a normal fucking diet only to switch back to that salad shit. “What’s on your—”

“I’ll do us both a favor and get her to shut the fuck up.” Roman has had enough, both of Samantha’s grating voice but mostly her being a bitch to this girl for no reason. He’s a dick on the regular. He knows this. But, never has he come across someone like this Solana woman who, with just her presence alone, exudes such softness. Like, she doesn’t have a mean bone in her fine ass body. And she clearly doesn’t because anyone else would have probably lost their job by cussing Samantha out. Not that it wouldn’t be deserved.

Roman catches the faintest hint of a smile on Solana’s face as she redirects her attention to him. “Give her the salmon. I’ll take your best steak. For wine, you carry Madeira?” 

She’s pulled out her notepad and finishes taking down the order before answering with a nod. “Yes, sir.”

Roman’s jaw clenches at that sir bit. He could ruin this girl. “What do you recommend?”

She’s visibly taken back by his question, probably by the fact that he’s asking her for her opinion. “Umm—”

“Roman, I can rec—”

“I didn’t ask you,” he cuts that bitch off with the quickness, eyes never leaving the pretty girl before him. “I asked Solana.”

Her smiles widens as she answers in a more confident tone. “Julio Barros…..1950.”

Roman smirks. 

Exactly what he was going to order.

“I’ll take it.”

Their gazes linger on each other a second too long for Samantha’s liking as she cuts in once once more. “You can go now.”

Solana’s smile drops again, Roman suddenly finding himself all annoyed. Her smile is something pretty that he wouldn’t mind seeing more of, though that irritation is waned as he’s granted the view of her nice, round ass and curvy hips swaying as she walks to the back to turn in their order.

Samantha reaches over and touches his hand, Roman snatching it back and sneering at her. “What?”

She sighs. “Baby, I’m trying to talk about us.”

And just like that, he’s annoyed all over again. “There is no us.”

Samantha looks sad only for a brief second. “Roman, I’m not stupid. I know what these dates have been for. You’re trying to see if it could work.”

“If what could work?”

“Us.” She goes on to share. “There’s rumors that the Elders have been putting more pressure on you to settle down and make an heir.” Sam leans over the table, intentionally trying to emphasize her cleavage. It’s nice. He’ll give her that. But, he’s certain it’s nothing compared to Solana though and those big breast of her hers. “I can do that for you. Be that for you. Be your wife. The mother of your children.”

Not a damn thing she’s saying sounds even the least bit desirable. At all. 

“I mean, we’ve been fucking around since we were kids. Why not make it official?”

For a lot of reasons. All the reasons. The main one being Roman don’t like this bitch unless she’s choking on or riding his dick. 

What he does like, however, and finds solace in is the interactions with Ms. Solana as the evening goes on. They’re not very often outside of her bringing the bottle of wine and their food when it’s ready as well as a check-in here or there on how they’re doing.

Each time Samantha sending her the dirtiest look or just being an ol’e nasty bitch, to which Roman shuts down, cutting her off and even telling her to shut the fuck up.

The girl is just trying to do her damn job. And as his eyes locate and land on her on several different occasions, he can see that she works hard. Moving from table to table, almost saddened facial expression indicates she’s on the receiving end of more verbal lashings from people like Samantha.

That actually pisses him off, Roman having to control and stop himself from doing some out of pocket shit. 

Again, for what reason, he hasn’t the slightest clue. He just knows those brief glimpses of her actually smiling, usually when she’s chatting with a coworker, do something for him. 

Maybe even to him. 

And unbeknownst to him, the intrigue goes both ways, because as shitty a day Solana Miller was having, the handsome stranger with the rude girlfriend or wife or whatever has somehow, someway made this day just a little bit better.

It’s been some time, if ever, Solana has come across someone with such a presence about them. Him dining at this uppity restaurant she was able to score a job at tells her that he’s wealthy. His disposition and the fact that he somehow secured it to where the surrounding tables of where he sits have been marked as unavailable tells her that he has pull. But, the way he interacts with her, a literal nobody, she’s not sure what that means.

Especially with the beautiful woman he’s with, because while Solana thinks she’s every bit a bitch as most of the women who come into this place, she’s a stunning bitch. 

Which is why Solana can’t allow herself to believe that that equally beautiful looking man is looking at her in any sort of capacity. 

There’s no way in he—

“Solana.”

And just like that, she's frowning again. “Mami?”

The last thing she expected to see this evening was the sight of her mother, already dressed in her scrubs, baby in her arms. 

Solana’s baby. 

Her 11-month–old daughter, Soraya. 

The shock wears off as Nina gets closer, Solana shaking her head, “what are you—”

Nina shakes her head, face apologetic and tone contrite. “I’m so sorry, baby, but I got called into work. I can’t watch Raya.”

Shit

It's inconvenient, but Solana understands it. She remembers the countless times Nina had no other option but to leave her with a neighbor after being called into work at all kinds of hours. She’s always worked so hard to take care of the two of them when Solana was growing up. 

“It’s okay, mama.” Solana easily reaches for her daughter, a wave of relief and happiness washing over her as she holds and kisses her baby. The source of all her joy. All of the struggle, every bit of it, is worth it as long as she has her daughter. She’d do anything for her. “How was she?”

Nina gives a small chuckle. “She’s like you were and still are. An easy child.” Solana kisses Soraya’s temple. “Sol…..” And just like that, Solana already knows she’s probably not going to like what she’s about to hear. “I know you’ve said you don’t want to go after him for child support, but it’s not fair for you to be out here working two jobs while putting yourself through school to take care of his child.”

Solana holds Soraya just a smidge tighter. “She’s my baby, mami.” 

Nina counters. “She’s his biological child.” Solana looks away, hopeful her manager, Aldis, doesn’t come out and scold her for this little interaction. She’s scheduled to clock out in another half hour anyway. “He should be paying you child support.”

Her mom is right. Solana knows this, knows that it’s not fair for her to have to be the sole provider for her baby girl, while Cruz lives his best life as an absentee, deadbeat dad. And she’s considered on several occasions going to the courthouse to see what she needs to do to get that ball rolling. 

But, every time, she’s haunted by something he said the last time they spoke, not even a month after her daughter was born. 

“Don’t you get it? We were fine before she came in the picture! We could be fine again if she wasn’t.”

Solana’s never been more disturbed than she was to hear those words leave his mouth. That’s why she’s glad he’s gone, that he wants nothing to do with her or his child. Because she would never trust to leave her baby girl with him in the first place.

And if that means she does it without him contributing financially, that’s exactly what she’ll do. 

Solana shifts Soraya from one hip to the other. “I don’t need him, mami.” And she doesn’t. Because if Solana had to resort to sex work to take care of herself and her daughter, it’s exactly what she’d do.

Nina gives a heavy sigh. “Mija, you know I help you when I can.”

“I know.” Because she does. But, the same way that times are hard for her. They’re hard for her mom, too. Everyone’s struggling these days, it seems. Everyone except the rich people who wine and dine without a care in the world around them. “I’ll be okay.”

Always will be.

Nina gives a knowing nod, hugging her daughter and gently taking her granddaughter’s hand, kissing it, speaking in Spanish. “I’ll see you later, okay? Abuela loves you.”

Solana smiles. “Thanks, mama.”

“Always, baby.” 

Nina reaches Solana the diaper bag, Solana placing it on the bar stool, knowing it’s bound to be left alone. These rich ass people would never bother with the Ross purchase. With a final parting smile, Nina is off to the hospital, leaving Solana with her daughter who’s just now waking up.

“Hi, baby girl,” Solana giggles at the almost cranky expression on her baby’s face. Raya is definitely not the happiest camper when being woken up. 

A glance at the time reminds Solana that she technically is still on the clock and really shouldn’t have her child with her. But, with no other option, she accepts she’ll just have to clock out early and take whatever those consequences are.

But before that, the least she can do is grab the bill from the table where the handsome stranger and his girlfriend sat. She’s briefly disappointed to see the table empty, even if she remembers his deep voice thanking her for her assistance this evening as she brought them that same check earlier. 

It’s a silly thing, really. And she tries to push away the disappointment at not properly telling him goodbye. A stranger. 

Silly.

Soraya grasps at the collar of her shirt while Solana walks over to the table, pausing as she gets close enough to see that there’s more than just a bill with a signature. There’s cash. A stack of it. Money in hand, she’s confused, because this man paid with a black card, so what—

“Good.” 

Solana gaps and spins around, her eyes widening as she looks up. He’s a lot taller than she realized, burly body nearly eclipsing her view of anything else, silky black hair in such a neat, perfect bun. “Wanted to make sure you got it.”

Brows furrowed, it’s hard for her to speak for a lot of reasons. One of which is the fact that this man cannot be real. A man cannot be this handsome. But, he is real, and he’s looking at her.

And Soraya. 

“I—” She shakes her head, clearing her throat. “Is this—you already paid—”

“That’s not for the bill,” his voice is so velvety, smooth, and deep. “It’s your tip.”

Eyes widening, her gaze snaps to the wad of cash as Soraya continues to grasp and squeeze her shirt. She doesn’t even need to count to know that this is a nice amount of money. 

Too much.

“I can’t—it’s too much.” 

He chuckles, “do I look like I can’t afford it?” Her eyes roam over his big, muscular build dressed in fine, expensive looking clothes. He just oozes wealth. 

And power. 

“N–no.”

“Dealing with Samantha, trust me, you earned it.” Solana looks down, wanting to hide her small smile. His gaze redirects to the child in her arm. “Who is this?”

And just like that, Solana’s proud smile returns. “My daughter, Soraya.” It’s like Soraya knows she’s being discussed, lifting her little head to look at Roman. A big grin on her face before she buries her face into Solana’s neck. 

Roman makes a sound, and she can almost swear she sees the smallest smile on his handsome face. “She looks like you.”

That creates such a warm, fuzzy feeling in her stomach, “thank you…..”

He looks at her a bit confused, like her unspoken question surprises him, before answering. “Roman.” Roman. “Roman Reigns.”

Roman Reigns. Even his name is powerful.

It fits him.

Solana shifts Soraya around as she starts to get wiggly in her arms. “Well, thank you, Mr. Reigns.” She’s certain the shock of just how much money this random, rich stranger has given her hasn’t truly set in. Because if it had, she’d have a much more visceral response. 

A lot more.

“Roman,” he corrects. “Call me Roman.” 

“Roman….” 

Something indecipherable flashes in his eyes, something that makes her feel a bit unnerved under his intense stare. It’s broken, however, by her now irritated daughter.

“Mama.” Soraya makes her dissatisfaction at being still for too long known by punching her tiny fist against Solana’s chest. “Mama!”

“Shhhhh,” Solana kisses her temple, trying to quiet her down before someone makes Aldis aware of her presence. She looks at Roman, eyes softening, “thank you again.”

Truly. Honestly. He hasn’t the slightest clue how much this will help her. It’s why she can stand here without anxiety and concern about making it to the bus stop on time. Tonight.....tonight she’ll treat herself and her baby with calling an Uber instead. 

Might even stop and pick up dinner.

Roman nods, eyes briefly glancing at her daughter again, the smallest smile on his face. “I’ll see you later, Solana.” His head dips a bit in acknowledgment towards her baby. “Soraya.”

The smile is plastered on her face even as he walks off without another word. And it’s only a good two minutes later that she catches onto what he said. A certain word in particular standing out the most. 

What did he mean by later?

[star-suh]

A Detective and a Gangster Walked Into a Bar

Jeong Jaehyun x Male Reader

cw: top jaehyun, pwp, unprotected sex, breeding, cheating, blowjob, deepthroat, degradation, rimjob, handjob, lightly choking, implied spit as lube, bit of feminization, dumbification.

—

yn is a known p.i. in the city In recent months he has been trying to catch a dangerous gang and to do so he has had to fall to the lowest of the low. this is how he is now on his way to a bar that is managed by jaehyun's wife, another well-known mafia member who coincidentally is a rival of the gang that yn is tracking. "i can't believe i had to ally myself with a son of a bitch like jaehyun," yn mutters, his breath being visible for the cold night. 

jaehyun was signing some papers when the phone rang “hello?” he answers the phone, "oh, hello johnny... yeah yeah okay, send him directly to my office”.

“well. well. well… look who arrived, if not the most respected detective of all, yn ln huh?" he says with a cocky tone. “shut up and let's get straight to business. where's the folder you promised to give me?” detective yn said.

“woah you are as handsome as in the photos i have” the shameless gangster flirts. “i'm not here for your stupid jokes jaehyun, give me the. fucking. folder” anger being visible on the detective's face.

“take a seat and let's talk” jaehyun said, “why do you want the folder so much?”. “why do you care?” replied the other quickly. “i don't know maybe i feel jealous.. maybe i want you chasing me instead” jaehyun once again flirts. yn was not having it, he took a deep breath and counted to 10.

“i give you the folder with all the evidence to arrest that son of a bitch. but i'm going to need something in return" jaehyun gets up from the chair, walks around the desk and heads to the couch, sitting there in front of yn. “what do you want?” asked the other male. jaehyun manspreads “just an hour with you. i know you're not a whore but we can make a deal” he blurted out “i'm tired of doing favors for money i have a lot of that. i need other things… like the back of your throat” he smirks. “you shameless freak. fine, but no one should know about this" he sighed, that folder would help him a lot in getting a promotion at his job so whatever it takes, right?.

“come here” jaehyun does a motion with his hands, yn walked towards him. they kissed “so soft” murmured jaehyun “i wonder how would they feel wrapped around my cock” he said between kisses. yn knelt down and unzipped the other's pants, surprised by his big, throbbing cock. “seeing you in your knees is making me so horny”, yn's tongue went up and down jaehyun's shaft “what a fucking tease” moaned the gangster. yn then introduces the tip inside his mouth, making circles with his tongue on it and playing with the foreskin, he then leave wet kisses in the shaft sucking the balls, “so skilled damn you're a professional cocksucker. have you done this before?” grunted jaehyun, “that's none of your damn business” replied the detective.

yn slapped the other's cock on his tongue and put it all the way inside his mouth “fuck, the back of your throat feels so good” yn starts to deepthroat him holding on for a few seconds before taking out the huge cock smeared with thick strings of saliva that connecs his lips to the cock. “shit not even my wife can take it all” grunted jaehyun in excitement.

“that's it, keep sucking it like that?” he demanded “who's a good boy huh?”, yn didn't pay attention to his words, he just wanted to finish as soon as possible. “go faster.. i'm gonna cum inside your throat you better swallow it all slut” jaehyun pushed yn's head all the way down his cock locking his thighs around his neck, choking him while also cumming, forcing the other to swallow the thick gooey sperm of the gangster.

jaehyun let him go, yn fell to the floor coughing trying to catch some air. “come here we're not done yet” jaehyun grabbed and lifted yn by the hand and push him towards his desk “bend over” he said in a low demanding tone, “what the fuck are you talking about?” asked yn with a worried expression. “i said bend over” jaehyun's hand sneaking around yn's throat, squeezing it lightly “the hour is not over yet and i plan to enjoy every part of you until you come back later to me asking for another favor" his laugh sending shivers down your spine. jaehyun quickly remove yn's pants “spread your legs wide for me” yn did as he was told, feeling embarrassed as how submissive he was behaving around that bastard. “good boy” he hears while a slap lands on his left ass cheek.

jaehyun buried his tongue deep inside yn's hole while using his hand to stroke the other's cock “so hard for me. look how much you're leaking. are you that excited to be fucked by me?” he says in between the times that he stopped eating ass to breathe.

yn bites his arm to avoid moaning and give that bastard the satisfaction of knowing that he is feeling good “you're being a good little plaything for me mr. yn don't you wanna be the replacement of my wife?”, “shut up.. don't mention her you shameless perv… fucking other people when you're already married” spoke yn, the pleasure already numbing his mind. “you knew that… and that didn't stopped you to suck me off and you didn't do nothing to avoid what is happening right now so.. who's the perv here?”.

the gangster kept eating yn out “let's get you nice and wet for me i don't want to break you mr. detective… well at least not now” he murmured. yn stopped biting his arm he doesn't have the strength to keep doing it so his saliva started to came out of his mouth and he started to moan so loud “take a deep breath, i’m not going to contain myself from breaking your pussy you hear me?” yn just nodded, “hahaha. haven't even penetrated you yet and you're already that dumb?” the top joked.

and as he said he introduced  all his cock at once and started to thrust right away drawing loud moans out of yn's mouth. the thrusts were so hard and rough that the desk started to move too. “look at you acting all though and feisty but being so dumb over my fat cock”. jaehyun have both his hands placed on yn's cheeks and some of his fingers inside his mouth using it as a way to bang him even more harder. nonsense words came out of the detective's mouth while from jaehyun's only “your mine” and “this pussy belongs to me” can be heard in between growls and heavy pants.

“i'm gonna pump all my cum inside you and cream this fucking tight pussy” blurted out jaehyun, with a couple of last thrusts he came, his throbbong cock pumping lots of loads inside the cockdrunk detective…

“here's the folder you earned it” jaehyun slide the folder towards yn who cleans the remains of his saliva that somehow managed to get smeared on the folder, “thanks i guess” an embarrassed yn was getting ready to leave when a hand stopped him, “no goodbye?” pouted jaehyun “i'd like to think we're gonna see each other again”... yn sighed with a disgusted grin “goodbye motherfucker” he answered. “nuh-uh” jaehyun tapped his lips letting him know that he wanted a kiss "i really can't believe you" he said and gave him a kiss. yn walks out of his office waving a goodbye to johnny, one of jaehyun's gang friends, not noticing the big tent formed in his pants. 

when he arrived at home he quickly went to the bathroom taking out his dick which was still hard since he didn't came during the sex with jaehyun, just thinking about it made him very horny, his hand goes up and down his dick at a fast pace until finally white ropes of semen fall on the glass door of the shower. yn rests his forehead on his arm that is resting against the glass door, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anger for how that damn gangster jaehyun made him so submissive.