#I ACCIDENTALLY UNPINNED
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INFO !! ♡
♫ hello!! my name is juno and my friends call me tuna!!! however u r free to call me whatever u wish, i have no preference whatsoever :] i use he/him pronouns and i am 16!!!!
♩ i speak english and sign in asl + i am learning latin!!
♬ my close friends describe me as funny, "secondhand romantic" (i have no idea what this means and he can't explain it so this one is up to interpretation LMAO), insane, silly, puppy, science and animal enthusiast, biggest modern minimalism hater, and "like 10 am on a summer morning and it's light and breezy." so. take those as u will!!
♯ i listen to largely classical music (my fav composers are prokofiev, debussy, and shostakovich a heem heem giggle) and artists like tears for fears!! i'm also a major fan of rococo/baroque architectural and art styles (hence l'apothéose d'hercule above) and floriography!! i have been singing in choirs for like. a third of my life and am trained classically :] despite all of this art stuff, biology is my spinterest!!!!!
♭ although u probably would not be able to tell from the vibe of this alone, i am in fact incapable of being normal about ANYTHING. i adore everything on this list, but my biggest fandom interest at the moment is most specifically gus halper's mischa bachinski from ride the cyclone LMFAO!! a poor quality 3d render of him is spinning around in my head at all times, and his Strange bf, rap girlie fiancée, and singing abilities occasionally tag along :]
♮ i'd prefer if people 13 and below didn't interact with my posts, but if ur already here, dw abt leaving!!! of course i'm not too comfortable with adults being here either, but that's probably a given. overall dni criteria applies here but that's also probably a given LMFAO. my biggest thing is that if u support the 'noel is talia and is catfishing mischa' theory, i sincerely ask that u don't follow this blog and learn abt why it's a sucky theory!! aside from that, i don't really have any major unique dni thing, but please know that if i do anything to make u uncomfortable, i ask that u tell me so that i don't repeat it!!
𝄞 that's all i got!!! thank u for reading!!! i love u and hope u have a great day!!!!
#point and laugh at the old info pst#my dms n asks r always wide open bee tee dubs#new info mm yummers#I ACCIDENTALLY UNPINNED#back grinding
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Welcome to my Mind
Kes(She/her)(Aries)🇬🇧🇺🇸 Born‘98,intj
I write fics most notably:
LandOscar
Amongst the Trees (rated e, 21.9k)
Oscar meets Lando on the high ropes course of a Center Parcs resort, Summer Vacation, Casual Sex
A Touch of Papaya (rated m, 38.4k)
Oscar spends his rookie season falling in love with his teammate
Software Instability (rated m, 16.5k)
Detroit: Become Human AU, Oscar is an android and Lando’s performance coach
We’ll Take the Scenic Route (rated m, 21.4k)
Oscar is a student driving solo across America, Lando is a stranger he picks up along the way (Authors favourite)
Ignore the Consequences (rated m, 11.8k)
Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Between the flags (rated m, 17.2k)
Bondi Rescue AU
How to Reform a Rake (rated m, 8k)
Too Hot to Handle Style Intervention, Mutual Abstinence
CarLandOscar
In the Middle (rated e, 3.5k)
Hate Sex, Threesome, Smut
MaxOscar
Switch it Up, Play it Down (rated e, 11.2k)
Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Max is an Omega and Oscar is an Alpha but it’s never that simple
I Can Tell That You’re Curious (rated t, 1.3k)
Seven Minutes in Heaven, Drunk Kiss
Total Ellipsis of the Heart (rated t, 14.6k)
Online Dating, Texting, Mutual Pining, Oscar finds Max’s profile on a Dating App
NorStapStri
Blood Rushed, Hair Tossed and Cheeks Flushed (rated e, 4.6k)
Threesome, 2024 Dutch GP, Lando wins the Dutch Grand Prix and celebrates with Max and Oscar
Norapinto
Come Put Your Lip On Mine and Shut Me Up (rated e, 5.1k)
Smut, Lando is a Whiny Brat, Franco is a Tease, Switching, Lando likes what Franco can do with his tongue, Part 1 of Talk Too Much
Norapinstri
Silence is Golden (you’ve got my hopes up) (rated e, 4.3k)
Smut, Threesome, Spit-roasting, Part 2 of Talk Too Much
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#I somehow accidentally unpinned the post that I reblogged with this originally#so I tracked down the image just so I could pin it again#truly it makes the best welcome mat for my blog#caitie speaks
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Important tags for later reference in case I forget or in case you'd like to scroll through and look at a certain tag:
• "#my art" is for tagging my art (alternatively, #not my art for art that I end up reblogging that isn't mine...although I've gotten lazy about tagging so I usually don't tag things unless I speak in them-)
• "#my writing" is for when I post stuff from ao3 that I wrote or just little things I wrote and decided to share here
• "#for later" are things I'm saving for later that might be important or also for cute animals in case I get sad later and need cheering up
• "#shitposting" is for random thoughts I have and shitposts (alternative tag for this: "#random shitpost")
• "#life update" for random life updates and updates on things I'm doing that day...like baking cookies!
• "#songs stuck in my head" is for all the times I've reblogged the "the current song stuck in your head .. go !" post with songs currently stuck in my head that I'm convinced I'm annoying op about at this point by continually reblogging, but I also need to document the songs stuck in my head. for science.
• "#ask tofs" I don't usually get many asks, but I suppose I should have a tag for those, so-
• "#voting time with tofs" is for all the random polls I start because I'm bored and very indecisive. that's it.
• "#last song i listened to" is for the person's post that I rb'd where they so politely asked what the last song listened to was.
• "#a master tag of the insanity" is some random c!mcyt brain thoughts I have occasionally (c! NOT cc!, or in other words, not about the actual real life people, but the cubitos, the sillies, the blorbos, etc.)
• "#tumblr stories of old" are basically like the old legends or old wives tales of tumblr. Myths and lore of old told by great and revered storytellers. Things that future historians may eventually look back on as the Gilgameshes and Illiads of our time... (they can also be found under "#for later", but it's faster if you just use this tag if you don't wanna also be bombarded with art stuff and recipes and cute animals)
• "#rizz for thee not for me" basically the "no b----es" meme for me cuz I for some reason have never been on a single date in my life even tho I've been told by MULTIPLE friends that I'm very cute and my best friends tell me I've got good game and decent charisma...basically me trying to help you get a date if you want one and/or decide to use my pick up lines (also I don't rlly get out much sooooo I don't rlly have any use for them currently-)
• "#dnd stuffs" is for when I post about my dnd OCs that I'm developing my own story for cuz I have no friends (/lhhj...hj BC none of them rlly play dnd-) and autism be damned I'm gonna make my own story! I don't need friends to make up pretend fantasy scenarios!!
• "#out of touch thursday" is for out of touch thursday...obviously- /lh
• "#it's crismin! happy crimis. merry crisis! merry chrysler :p" is what I'm making my Christmas tag riiiiiggt *checks watch* now.
• "#Sasha the Christmas Tiger" Sasha the Christmas Tiger. That is all.
• "#sparkle on its wednesday" is for the sparkle on its wednesday meme
• "#ides of march" is for the day we all collectively stab Caesar again :³
• "#yoooooo happy flesh prison friday" for flesh prison friday
• "#well‚ it's thursday" for the well it's thursday meme
• "#Tuesday 🔁" for the Tuesday 🔁 meme
• "#watermelon wolf wednesday let's gooo" for the watermelon wolf wednesday meme
• "#stoat saturday" for stoat saturday
• "#Today's Sunday" for sunday
also not all my posts are currently tagged with the corresponding tags, I'm trying to work on it. (← lie, I have pretty much given up on tagging my posts from the beginning/earlier this year correctly. There's too many- ╥﹏╥ )
Oh yeah also I added the hyphens to the tag part, but the tags don't have hyphens so uh...yeah jsyk (EDIT: this ↑ has been changed, there are no longer hyphens in the tags in the pinned post)
Also both picture of the perfect lemon slice (my pfp) and my bakusquad banner are by me (lemon was photographed, banner was drawn, felt like I needed to credit somewhere in case anyone was curious...maaaay or may not be working on a new banner, but shhhhhhh 🤫
EDIT 2: I changed it to the new banner ^^)
#I'm pinning this btw#idk I'm just kinda bored ig#I accidentally unpinned this and had to scroll back through my entire blog TT^TT#for later#← in case I accidentally unpin again so I don't have to scroll back through everything#to further help prevent that ↑#pinned post
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it's wild that internet explorer still exists in this the year 2023
#it's pinned to the taskbar on my work laptop#and I can't unpin it cos it's admin locked#and I click on it accidentally constantly#and it slows down my computer while it opens and I have to close a popup asking me to make it my default browser (again it's 2023)
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Me: *hops online to just get rid of notifications*
My brain: aaand that’s all I want to do, peace out ✌️
#tumblr you moved your tags stooooop#I might get on again at some point but like family is still in town and I’m exhausted soooo…#yeah…might do an update later#if you read these tags you can pray all fleas die in my house 🥴#and that I get more energy cause I#I’m so tired 😴#I also just accidentally deleted my hiatus post instead of just unpinning it oops….
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Moratorium on “problematic” fics is lifted! Prompt your sick little hearts out!
#feeling chaotic tonight#also I accidentally deleted the original post when I just meant it unpin it#whoops#anyway I’d still prefer the emphasis to be on our love for Hellcheer rather than our hate for the antis#so if you’re gonna prompt stuff inspired by anti hate maybe just pace yourselves
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okay seriously it isnt thursday anymore
#💥#i think i just accidentally deleted the reblog instead of unpinning it#ah well good riddance and fuck you michael#I am right here.#⚙️#so what? I'll say it to your face i am no coward#fuck you michael
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about me
blaise / elffkin / elffk1n
he/it pronouns
26 years old
welcome to my minecraft/mcyt sideblog. here i yell about minecraft and minecraft youtubers.
i sometimes tag series/smps with their common name.
for the life series: i do not consistently tag spoilers.
i prefer youtubers to streamers but i am not immune to vods
main is @unsettlingcreature
youtube / twitch
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carrd redoneeee. i need a pinned ew
#it used to be gingis commissions but. i accidentally unpinned it and haven't found it#loser_txt.png
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this is why I need to read release notes for mods bc I did not know this 🥴
#accidentally found out about it today whilst tryna unpin one of aspen's wants#like i have zero's mod for rerolling wants & everything & it turns out weerbesu added it to ui cheats?#yeah i need to go thru my mods folder properly and delete redundant mods with haste
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Incorrect quotes, featuring my newest oc: Astera!
I rarely make oc's anymore, but, your honor, I love her.
Astera: I hate you sometimes.
Cassian : Well according to this picture Rhysand drew of us holding hands that's not true.
Astera: Cassian — you drew that.
Cassian : It doesn't matter.
Azriel: Can you please just apologize to Rhys?
Astera: Fine, but I have to warn you that this may make me a nicer, better person and that is not who you fell in love with.
Rhysand: Adults are the most insanely stupid people I have the displeasure of interacting with.
Azriel, referring to himself and Astera: Even us?
Rhysand: Especially you guys.
Astera:
Azriel:
Astera: Petition to kick Rhys out so he stops insulting us.
Azriel: Seconded.
Azriel: *accidentally eats something too spicy so his eyes start to water*
Astera: Az, look at me. It's okay. I would die for you. I love you so much. You're the best person I know.
Azriel: I'm not crying?
Astera, hugging Azriel's head: Shhhhhhh, it's okay.
Cassian, eating a meal with everyone: I poisoned one of our glasses. . . But I forgot which one.
Astera, eyeing Amren and Mor looking like they want to murder each other: The way this dinner is going, I pray to Mother that it’s mine.
Astera, holding onto Rhys for dear life: This is tied for most terrifying day of my life!
Rhys, laughing: Tied with what?
Astera: Every other day of my life!
Cassian : Are you busy?
Astera, unpinning her hair: Yes.
Cassian : Cool, listen to this. . .
Astera:
Rhysand: How’s practice going?
Astera: Terrible. I want to stab everyone there.
Rhysand: Okay, just don’t get any blood on your clothes.
Astera: . . . You shouldn’t be condoning this. . .
Rhysand: Don’t tell me how to live my life, Astera.
Rhysand: Smart is attractive. Educate me on something I don't know!
Astera, without hesitation: The mouth of a jellyfish is also an anus.
Rhysand, horrified: Stop.
Azriel: You asked. . .
#acotar#acomaf#rhys acotar#azriel acotar#cassian acotar#incorrect quotes#incorrect acotar quotes#original female character#Azriel x Cassian x Rhys x Fem!Oc#fem oc#a court of thorns and roses#a court of mist and fury#rhysand x oc#cassian x oc#azriel x oc#poly!batboys#rhysand x reader#cassian x reader#Azriel x reader#poly!batboys x reader#poly!batboys x oc
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And all that I have
Part 8 of my Accidentally on Purpose Series
Warnings: Smut (18+), cockwarming, conversations about CNC (consensual non-consent) play, kink discussions, talks about non-consensual kinks, toxic relationship, conversations about burglary, insecurities, angst, obsession with reader, mild body insecurity. Charred the dove and the dove kinda liked it.
Disclaimer: I want to be clear that although the conversations are centred around non-consent, the entire thing is completely consensual, if reader was uncomfortable, the conversation would stop. They are discussing a scene they plan to do in the future, so be warned that this will come up later in this series.
You loved him.
You knew it now, without a doubt.
You’re gazing at him from your spot at your desk, peeking over your laptop so that it’s not obvious to him that you’re staring.
You watch him scratch at his eyebrow, deep in thought as he reads the report on his desk. You feel your stomach flip as he squints for a second, no doubt reading something he disagrees with on the page.
He runs the backs of his fingers over his cheek, scratching at his beard, deep in thought, unaware that just a little distance away, you’re admiring him with every piece of your heart.
Whatever you had felt for anyone else before was nothing compared to what you were feeling for him right now. Your relationship with Dominic had been nothing but a shell, hollow, it had been filled with moments of self- doubt, separated by spaces of indifference that you’d tried to convince yourself was happiness. But it wasn’t, it wasn’t contentment or satisfaction or delight. Being with Dominic had been nothing but a mediocre meal when you were starving, only perceived as amazing because you were unfed.
Now, with Billy, you knew what it was like to really feel.
“Billy.” You say softly, watching him blink and raise his head. He gives you a tired smile.
“Yeah?”
“I’m bored.”
The corner of his lip twitches before it pulls up into a smile.
He looks down at his report before looking back up at you.
“Feeling for anything in particular?”
You study him for a moment, before closing your eyes.
“It’s been two weeks since we last had sex-”
“Two weeks and six days…” He pauses when you open your eyes to look at him curiously, “...To be exact, but,” He clears his throat, “who’s counting?”
You can’t help planting your face in your hands and letting out a little laugh.
“Fine, it’s been two weeks and six days, and there’s still about a week left before we can- and I really want a distraction from it.”
He swallows, nodding eagerly, in full agreement with your words.
“I get it," Billy agrees, and you watch him drop his papers onto the desk with a decisive thump, "It's been actual hell to not be able to follow through with any of the things I want to do to you."
You give him an amused raise of your eyebrows, a slow feeling of delight spreading in your abdomen. You take a slow breath to help ease the feeling.
“Well, that didn’t help distract me, just made me want you more.”
The look on his face is one of pure mischief.
“Oops.” Is his only response.
You blink at his audacity.
“You know,” You say, pushing yourself to a stand, “You really shouldn’t tease, there’s no chance of you winning this.” You advise, moving toward him. You don’t stop till you’re leaning against his desk.
You take your time, moving his phone and staple remover out of the way, and when it’s just papers, you lie down on his desk, smiling proudly as you turn to face him.
The muscle in his jaw jumps as he clenches his teeth, eyes skimming your body as you lie on his desk, knees bent for comfort. After a moment, the pins in your hair begin to stick your scalp and you grunt as you unpin your hair and let it splay across his reports.
“Everytime you tease me, I play this game in my head where I come up with payback.” He says, eyes fixed on you, “At the rate you’re going, you’re not gonna be able to walk after.”
You smile at him, your only response is to raise one hand, and undo the top button of your shirt.
His eyes follow the movement.
“I doubt,” You hum undoing another button, “That you’d be able to last long after four weeks of no sex.”
“Maybe not.” He sighs, “But I’ll find a way.”
When you reach for a third button, his hand reaches up to cover yours.
"Mercy." He whispers finally, "You're pretty, and I want you and I don't know how much more of this I can take."
"Poor baby." You tease.
He grunts out a laugh, closes his eyes and shakes his head.
"God, you're really in for it when I’m fully healed."
“What am I in for?” You tease, tugging your shirt open as wide as possible.
He looks up, as if asking a higher being for his sanity back.
“You really wanna know? It might scare you.”
“God I hope it does.”
He groans, low in the back of his throat.
“Alright. I’ll tell you.” He looks down at you again, the back of his fingers tracing over your cheek softly.
You smile, closing your eyes as he touches you softly.
“I want to tie you to our bed, and use you whenever I want. I want to leave that sweet little cunt dripping with my come.”
He lets out a soft sigh, his thumb tracing over your lips gently.
“I want to… rent a cabin in the woods, and chase you, make you run, play with you and when I catch you- I want to make you regret running.”
You swallow, excitement swells like a wave within you.
“I’d love that.” You confess to him softly, “Make me regret running from you, sir.”
You watch his throat bob as he swallows, his eyes a hue of darkness you’ve never seen before.
His fingers slip down your chin, tracing its way over your jaw.
“I didn’t expect you to be so… open about this.”
Maybe I'm just right for you, you think helplessly.
You smile up at him.
“I’ve always wanted to explore that side of myself, but Nic wasn’t very accommodating, so I hid those desires from him. But I’ve… I've wanted to be touched the ways you want to touch me for a long time.”
You think about the last time you’s asked Dominic to choke you- he’d done it so poorly, despite the way it had intensified your orgasm, and then he’d never done it again, it was like he wasn’t willing to learn what really got you off, so why would you ever try to push him further, or ask him for more?
Billy grips your jaw tightly, pulling you back into the present, into his dark, hungry eyes.
“Let’s come up with something, that we can,” His tongue darts out to swipe at his bottom lip eagerly, “do together.”
You feel a smile creep onto your face.
“Of course, Mister Russo.”
He leans in, his lips meeting yours softly, contradicting the rough implications of his words.
“Come sit on my lap.” He offers when he finally breaks from the kiss, and you nod easily, rising from his desk, giggling when you feel some papers stick to your arms. He helps you remove them, and then guides you into sitting on his lap, your legs being tossed over one of the arms of his chair.
“Will this even hold us?” You ask, resting your cheek against his chest.
He wraps an arm around you, humming an affirmative.
“Am I hurting you?” You check next, worried.
“Not at all, Mrs. Russo.” He murmurs, kissing the top of your head, “Now, tell me about your limits.”
You smile, looking down, playing with your fingers.
“I’m not that into anal, or hitting. Those are hard limits. I like being spanked.”
Billy hums in acknowledgement, his arm on your knee to keep you steady.
“What about slapping?”
You feel your insides clench.
You shake your head, looking up at him.
He smiles, the hand on your knee moving up to cup your cheek.
“So you like small amounts of pain? But nothing harder than a spank?”
“Yeah.” you answer, breathless at the conversation. No one had ever made you feel this comfortable and safe talking about topics like this.
“I like being scared.” You offer up, “I wanna be scared into acting like a good girl.”
He makes a low sound in the back of his throat.
“God you’re so fucking hot.”
You giggle in disbelief.
“What about pet names? I know you like the nice ones, but what about degrading ones?”
“I like ‘slut,’” You offer, “But not ‘bitch’ or ‘whore.’”
You groan when a thought pops into your mind.
“Literally, I think calling me your little plaything would make me see stars.”
His laugh is deep and alluring.
“What about you?” You ask, desperate to hear him affirm your desires with his own, “Tell me some things you like.”
“The idea of forced breeding is nice,” He starts, and you nod eagerly, already obsessed with that idea, held down and made to take his cum, being teased about having his kids. It makes your skin flush with heat.
“I have- uhhhhh-” He hesitates, and you adjust yourself to watch him carefully.
“Sorry, fuck, it’s embarrassing to say.” He mutters, and you realise that maybe he needs some reassurance.
You raise your hand, cupping his cheek, loving the feel of his coarse beard against your hand. You trail lower, fingers caressing his neck, before you try to slip your fingers under the collar of his button up shirt.
“You can literally tell me anything. I won’t run, I promise.”
He goes still, looking up at you, something unnameable in his eyes. After a moment, he blinks, looking down.
“I have a little fantasy about being a thief, maybe you have something valuable I want. Maybe it’s not what you think it is.”
You swallow, nodding your head eagerly, thinking about what it would be like to find him rifling through your home, touching things that weren't his to touch. You think about the way he’d grab you, about the way he’d lean in to kiss you harshly, the way he’d rip at your clothes-
“T-that’s a nice idea.” You whisper hoarsely.
You think about him all masked up and taking you on the floor of your home. You shift a little in discomfort caused by your definite arousal.
“I can't- I really need to be inside you.” He rushes out.
“Couch?” You offer, and then you slip off of his lap when he nods.
While he settles himself, you reach up under your skirt, pulling your panties down the length of your legs, smiling when you catch him staring at you.
You carefully climb onto him, reaching to undo his belt, the sound of it making you more and more aroused.
“You're so fucking beautiful.” He whispers, and you glance up at him feeling a little shy under his obsidian gaze.
“Thanks.” You whisper, your voice so soft that you barely hear it.
The back of his hand traces your cheek.
“Do you need help?” He asks, and you manage to be amused at the question, considering how absolutely wet you were between your thighs.
You shake your head, clenching when you finally get his cock free, giving him a few gentle strokes that has him groaning and dropping his head back.
He's so big, heavy in your hand, you love the slight curve of him, the wideness.
“Ready?” You ask, and he raises his head to look at you.
“If you are.” He says, voice pained.
You lean in, pressing a kiss to his lips before raising your hips to guide his thick cock to your entrance.
His head falls back again, his breathing shallow as he stares wide-eyed at the ceiling.
When you start slowly sinking down on him, you watch him suck in a deep breath, his hands gripping harshly at the couch.
“You're so wet, sweetheart. Fuck.” Billy exclaims, finally able to look at you once more.
You clench around him, your prolonged denial in support of his, claws at the walls inside your mind.
You feel a pinch of pain, the size of him stretching you open but you pay it no mind, your wetness makes taking him in so much easier.
Your eyelids flutter as you sink down onto him fully, you bite your lip harshly when the head of his cock presses firmly to your cervix.
“Oh my god.” You groan, panting, unable to comprehend the world around you with his cock so deep within you.
Before him, you weren't so desperate. You could usually go a month without sex without any problem at all, now though, Billy made lasting four weeks the biggest challenge.
He stays perfectly still, But you can't help yourself, making micromovements on his cock, rolling your hips a little just so you can feel something more.
“Princess.” He warns, and then groans loudly when he feels you clench hard around him in response. He loses himself for a moment, rolling his hips into you, before he grits his teeth, stopping his motions.
“You've never called me that one before.” You purr, trying to distract him while keep your body still.
His hands grip your thighs, blunt fingers pressing into your skin, sliding up to grip your ass harshly.
“It's cause I've got you so spoiled right now.” He hisses, "Couldn't tell you no if I wanted to.”
It makes you clench down on his cock a second time. You watch your own desperation mirror itself in his expression.
“You're so big, Mister Russo.” You moan, gripping his shoulders to keep your body steady.
You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, to relax the vise grip your cunt has around his stiff erection.
Billy has always thought of himself as a man with great strength, but it's in this very moment, he learns precisely how weak he is. Watching his gorgeous, breathtaking wife, try her best to sit still on his cock, brings out a darkness in him, gives him ideas of what exactly he's going to do the moment he can.
No woman has ever felt as good as you, and he knows no woman ever will.
You're having your own debate in your head at the same time, wondering how you're going to last another week without him fucking you into oblivion.
“Tell me what you want to do to me.” You plead, eyes squeezed shut to hide from him.
He doesn't speak for a moment, the only sound filling the room is both of your laboured breaths.
“I want to see you submit to me completely.”
You squeeze your eyes tighter, nodding.
I want that too.
“And I don't care how hard it is, or how long it takes, I want to fuck you until you're just my messy pile of wife, no brain at all.”
You whine, a low sound in the back of your throat, you can almost taste the pleasure on your tongue as if it’s something physical.
You roll your hips, feeling him inside you, the grip of his hands on your ass tightens.
Your eyes meet his, half lidded, panting and desperate as you gaze at one another, you know that it wouldn't take much to get you off, and you're trying your hardest not to, you really really want to support him this way.
It makes you a true mess, aroused beyond thought. You can see it in his eyes too, delirious yearning looking right back at you.
“What else?” You ask, needing to know the exact ways he wanted to unravel you.
He licks his bottom lip.
“I wanna fill you up, watch my come drip right out of you with the number of times I come inside you.”
“Yeah? M-maybe you can… use a plug if you get tired of watching your cum drip out.”
The sound he makes next is nothing short of a gowl, pulling you closer until your noses brush, You swear there's a fire in his eyes that you've never seen before.
“I can't stop picturing it,” he whispers roughly, one hand leaving your ass, trailing around to your front. You cry out when the tips of his fingers press to your aching clit, “The way you'll look when I'm done with you, passed out of course, my come messy between your thighs, I'll ask you if you're okay and you wouldn't be able to do anything more than make a little sound.” You tilt your head to the side when his finger begins rubbing softly at your swollen bud, he doesn't take kindly to the movement, his other hand reaching to grip the back of your head, forcing you back to him, “Maybe I'd keep fucking you. Even when you're out cold I could still fill you. You'd be so far gone you wouldn't even want me to stop.”
You nod, whining, knowing that you'd let him do anything he wanted so long as he was doing it to you.
“I know how that makes me look- I've been so ashamed of this side of me, but I want this, every little bit of it, and I want you.” You confess.
“There's nothing wrong with you I promise.” He says, leaning in to kiss you softly, his fingers speeding up their touch on your clit.
You gasp into his mouth.
“S-stop or I'll-” You find that the words evaporate on your tongue.
“You'll what, little wife? Come around my cock? Don't you want to?”
You shake your head violently.
“Not if you can't. Don't make me.”
He drags his fingers away, and you sigh in relief despite the way your body burns, aching for you to just take the edge off.
He kisses you again, harsh and all-consuming, you hum happily, trying to return his passion with a little of your own.
“No more.” He says, and you nod, rising from his cock, your cunt clenching as you get free of him, registering the emptiness, before you feel disappointment immediately follow.
He reaches down, grunting as he wraps his fist around the base of his cock, squeezing in what you can only assume is a method to avoid orgasm.
He’s beautiful, the way his skin is so flushed and his breaths are shallow and you think it’s mostly because of you, and you wonder why on earth would someone like him ever-
You swallow nervously, looking away.
You don’t want to ask, exhausted with your own insecurities to voice them.
Luckily you don’t have to, because at the same time, your cell on your desk starts ringing.
You turn to it, standing, adjusting your skirt before taking the few steps to it. You sigh internally when you see it’s your mother calling.
“Hey mom.” You greet softly.
“Hello. I’ve been sending so many messages. Why haven’t you responded? I thought you were dead.”
You try to hold it in but a laugh comes out against better judgement.
“Dead? Really? Wouldn’t someone have given you a call?”
“Who? Who’s going to call me if you die? Dominic? Your friends? This mysterious husband I have never met that might be the person doing the killing?”
“Why was murder the first thing you thought of?” Humour dripping from your voice.
“Because you’re living with a random stranger and I’m very worried.”
You let out a slow breath.
“I get it mom, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to reply to your messages, I’ve been trying to take care of Billy.”
After a moment, you swear you can hear the anger leave her over the phone.
“Okay well… how is he?”
You feel like you've won something.
“He's doing great, recovering well, that's what the doctor said, a few more weeks and he'll be recovered.”
“That's good to hear. When am I meeting him?”
“Soon.” You promise.
“That's fine. I also have something I want send to you. Can you give me your new mailing address?”
“Yeah, no problem, I'll message it to you.”
She's silent for a long time, and you know she's thinking about saying something terrible to you. You tilt your head back in frustration.
“Mom? You still there?” You ask politely.
“Are you doing okay? Dominic said you gained some weight.”
Your mouth parts in surprise.
“Why are you still talking to him?” You ask in disbelief, looking down at your body automatically. Why did everyone care so much about the way you looked?
“I called him. I wanted to hear his side of the story and to hear more about this Billy guy.”
You stiffen, realising that Billy was still in the room somewhere overhearing this conversation.
“Tell me that you didn't believe a word he said.” You beg.
“Some of it was definitely a lie, I remember when you'd called to tell me you'd broken up, that sounded genuine. I don't think you actually cheated on him, and I know you well enough to know that gold digging isn't your style.”
You smile, “Thank you.”
“But,” she continues, “One thing that confuses me is the custom rings. How did those happen?”
“Um,” you squeeze Your eyes shut, shaking your head, “We um,” Fuck, you didn't know what to say, “We had them made the day after.” You lie.
“Why? Why a stranger? Wouldn't you have tried to get the marriage annulled first?”
Shit.
“Um, we tried and then decided not to on the same day. Hey mom? I gotta go, my next meeting arrived early.”
“Okay, cupcake, talk to you soon.”
“Yeah,” you say with a shaky voice, “Bye, love you.”
You hang up before you can hear her parting words.
You stare at your phone, forgetting how to breathe for a long moment.
When he says your name, you turn quickly, looking at him. You finally find the strength to take in a breath.
“I'm fine. I just need a minute, be right back.” You rush out, walking out the room without a second thought.
You press your hand to the wall outside, taking a few deep breaths. You wanted to hide, to stop being perceived at all.
You glance at Martha, sitting at her desk, typing into her computer. When she senses you looking, she turns her head with a smile.
“Are you doing alright, Mrs. Russo? Do you want me to get you some water?”
Mrs. Russo. That was you.
You straighten.
“I'm okay, thank you though.” You say with a smile, turning in the direction of the elevators.
You press the button for his floor when you're inside, and only after you shift your feet impatiently, do you realize that you're not wearing any panties.
It gives you more confidence if anything, you were just sitting on your husband's cock, and he'd asked you to. He'd called you beautiful, he'd wanted you.
You squeeze your hands into fists, Dominic would not take him from you.
He’s in a meeting, his receptionist says to you, apology in her voice, and when you inquire with who, you find out that it’s just his boss.
You give her a smile, before walking right past her desk and knocking on his door.
You open it without waiting for a response, a smile on your face when you see both men looking at you.
“Sorry to interrupt, but can I please have a moment to speak with Dominic? It’s urgent.”
Both men glance at each other, and you know that his boss would not deny you your request.
“Of course,” The man says, rising from his chair, “We’ll pick this up later.”
Dominic only nods, his face set into harsh lines.
The door closes behind him softly, and you don’t speak for a moment, studying the landscape picture on his wall.
“That day we broke up,” You declare, not turning to look at him yet, “You told me that I wasn’t as pretty as some of your old girlfriends, you told me my laugh was irritating, that my friends annoyed you. You gave me reason upon reason as to why you didn’t like me and why we weren’t a good match, and I’d sat there and apologised to you.”
“Look,” He interjects, “I’m sorry I was so harsh-”
“-I’m not done.” You interrupt, turning to look at him, showing him that there was nothing between you anymore, that he could look into your eyes all he wanted, he would not find the version of you he once knew.
He lets out a breath, raising his eyebrows to seem amused by your intervention.
You didn't care.
“I can’t believe I ever did that, apologise to you for not being what you wanted. If I could go back, I’d tell you to go fuck yourself.”
He blinks, stiffening his shoulders.
“And then, you come back, assuming that I’d forgive you for the shit you said, and get back together with you. But I was never going to, marriage or not, I’d rather be alone forever than spend another minute with you.”
“So stop trying to mess with me, stop trying to destroy my life over something that happened after you broke up with me. You can’t hurt me anymore, and if you try to, I’ll show you exactly what I’m made of.”
You turn to the door, reaching for the handle.
“I love you.” He blurts, making you freeze in place.
You can’t help it, laughing softly at his admission.
You pull his door open, a smile still on your face as you glance back at him.
“You don’t even know the meaning of the word.”
.
“Where’d you go?” Billy asks when he sees you come in a few minutes later.
“To give some closure.” You say with a smile, approaching him, cupping his face in your hands, and leaning in to place a kiss on his lips.
You feel him relax under you, you hum softly at the feeling of it.
“Are you in any pain?”
“A little,” He confesses, “I might have pushed myself a little too much.”
Your eyebrows draw together, worried that you might have hurt him.
“I’m sorry, my full weight-”
“-was perfect. It was the tensing up when I got too close to coming that caused the strain.”
You groan, squeezing your eyes shut, one hand pressing to your tummy.
“Why do you even like me?” You rush out, in disbelief that you were literally making power moves just now, to come back to him with your insecurities.
Maybe power was exhausting to hold on to for you.
“Because I do.” He says softly, with an encouraging tone of voice, “Because you see me.” He’s quiet for a moment, biting the edge of his lip in deep thought.
“Growing up in the system was bad, it was real shitty. I don't think I’ll ever truly recover from the abandonment. I pretend I’m okay, and I pretend that I’m whole but,” He shakes his head, “I’m just pieces on the inside. Broken glass.”
“You make me feel like something more. A mosaic.” He utters, as if the word has just come to mind.
You take in a deep breath, your face contorted into one of sorrow.
I love you, Billy Russo.
You simper, leaning in to kiss him again.
“Let’s go home.” You suggest.
He’s nodding before you can even get the sentence out.
.
The hardest thing is keeping your hands to yourself. You want to touch him all the time, run your fingers through his hair, slide your hands under his t-shirt, gently trace the veins on the back of his hands. You want to smooth your thumbs over his eyebrows and taste his collarbones and you try your best to resist for a couple of reasons.
The first reason is that you don’t want to get him hard- you don’t want to torment him any more than he’s already being tormented. The second reason is because you worry he’ll eventually get annoyed with your insistent touching, that he may find it irritating eventually. The smallest hint that he’s getting annoyed with you might be enough to dissolve you into thin air, you don’t think you’d ever recover from it.
So sometimes you find yourself reaching for him, only to draw back at the last second, hoping he doesn’t see how hard you’re fighting yourself.
You should be more open about it- you know that- he tries so hard to open up to you and the least you can do is respond with the same effort.
And yet, your experience with Dominic lingers.
You and him had been so good at one point too, and the next thing you know, every aspect of you had irritated him.
How long would it take before Billy felt that way too?
This was bad, you had no support system in place, no one to talk to aside from him, no one to tell you that your thoughts were unreasonable. This, this was why staying with him wasn’t sustainable.
You’re lying motionless in the bath when he finds you after excusing himself to take a work call.
You turn when you catch movement, smiling up at him when he approaches. He’s got an apologetic look on his face, one that tells you that he has to leave you alone before he even says it.
“I’m sorry.” He breathes, coming to sit on the edge of the tub, “There’s an issue with our servers and I have to go.”
“It’s 8 p.m.” You state, “You can’t do this tomorrow?”
He shakes his head.
“Some of our guys are at risk without the intel.��
You take a deep breath, giving him your easiest smile. You wanted to fight, but maybe in this moment you didn’t know if you were capable of winning.
“Alright, Billy, I’ll see you later.”
He leans in, kisses the top of your head, then your cheek, and then tilts your head up for a quick kiss.
He leaves the room, and you hear him grab his things before the front door closes.
You close your eyes, letting your body sink below the surface of the water.
.
You sneak out maybe an hour later.
You wait by the door till the guard stationed there gets up to use the bathroom, and then you slip out in your fluffiest coat, making it to the elevator right outside with your heart slamming into your ribs.
Only after the doors close do you realise that you don’t have anything to help you get back inside, and that you should have maybe left a note. No worries though, you know Billy will call once he gets home and finds you gone.
You’d called Martha earlier, and begged her to find the address you were looking for, apologetic for disturbing her evening.
You take a taxi there, and you knock on the door softly once, in the cold air, before realising that you hadn’t knocked loudly enough.
The second time you knock, you hear footsteps, and you suck a deep breath in, smiling at the peephole before you hear the door unlock.
Maria looks concerned, her lovely brunette hair pulled over one shoulder.
“Are you okay?” She says with worry heavy in her tone.
You try to give her a cheerful expression.
“I’m great, I was just a little lonely, Billy left a while ago.”
She opens the door wider to let you in.
“Yeah, Frank left too.”
“I figured,” You admit, “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind some extra company?”
“Of course! I’m just cleaning up. You can hang your coat over there.” She says, pointing to a place behind you.
You thank her, shedding your coat with minimal difficulty and hanging it on the spot she had pointed to.
You follow her into the kitchen, where she’s mostly done with her dishes, only a few left to dry.
“Can I help?” You offer.
“No, thank you, I’m almost done. I have some leftovers if you want. Chicken parm, or do you want tea or coffee or something?”
You’re a little shy in her presence, trying to pick something easy so that she doesn’t insist.
“Water, for now, though I might pick at your teas later.” You say politely.
She smiles, and you feel so soothed by it, you find yourself smiling back. Not long after, she places a glass of water in front of you. You thank her again, sipping on it gratefully.
“So,” She starts off easily, looking over her shoulder to glance at you while she wipes a pink plate dry, “What brings you here at this hour?”
God, you wanted to tell her the truth, fold like a stack of cards because you didn’t think you could lie to her. For once, you wanted to be honest about your situation.
But you couldn’t. You couldn’t do that to her, and you definitely couldn’t do that to Billy. You’d ruin their friendship if you said anything, you’d ruin his relationship with Frank, he’d hate you for it.
You let out a pained breath.
“All my friends kind of hate me.” You murmur, deep in thought, “and you don’t seem like you’d hate me.”
She nods in understanding.
“Why don’t you tell me everything?” She says easily, and you nod, willing to try.
“My ex- Dominic- we’d been together for two years before we broke up. He works at Anvil, and for a long time I thought I was going to spend forever with him.” You look down into the glass of water, studying the stillness.
“Looking back at it now, I realise how wrong we were together. He never really liked me, I was just a convenience, he only kept me around because it was better than being alone, you know? We took care of each other at first, but somewhere along the way he stopped caring and then any little thing I did pissed him off.”
You watch her finish one plate, reaching for another.
“Our breakup was really brutal, he literally just picked me apart and left me outside my apartment, and then three days later I woke up married to Billy.”
“And you think,” She says, interrupting your thoughts, “That this one is going to end up like your last one.”
“Isn’t it?”
She smiles, shaking her head.
“You wanna know how long I knew Frank before we got married?”
“A reasonable amount of time?” You offer.
She laughs.
“Four months.”
Your eyebrows raise in surprise.
“I’m in no place to judge.”
She grins.
“I got pregnant three months into dating him, and we were married a month later. The first time I met Billy, was stepping on him when I woke up to pee in the middle of the night.” Her shoulders shake as she laughs, remembering the entire story.
“According to Frank, he’d climbed into our small apartment at the time from the fire escape, drunk off his ass, and crashed on the floor before Frank could help him to the couch in the living room. The way Frank says it, he just tossed a sheet over Billy, and stuffed a pillow under his head where he passed out and went back to sleep. I woke up, and stepped on him and he didn’t make a sound,” She laughs,” I screamed though, because there was a random man on the floor and I’d just put my full weight on his leg and he hadn’t made a sound. I thought he was dead.”
You try not to grin at the imagery.
“After some convincing from Frank, I fell asleep, and in the morning both men were gone. Billy… well he didn’t like me at first. He was sure I’d trapped his friend in the marriage or something, but over time, he… honestly he didn’t really warm up to me until I went into labour.”
You sit there, transfixed by her story.
“Frank thinks she came a week early, but she was just on time. He was supposed to get back before she came but something top secret kept him there longer- anyways- Frank called Billy and Billy showed up at my doorstep in maybe ten minutes. Back then, he had this old, beat up Harley- strictly american- you know?” She glances at you as if you’re supposed to understand what she’s saying, but you can only shake your head in confusion.
She grins, “Sorry, he used to be real patriotic, American brands as much as possible,” She shakes her head, “He’s grown out of that since his discharge. Anyway- that was maybe the first day he actually cared about me, held my hand all the way to the delivery room, almost punched a nurse that told him family only. I was so mean to him too, probably almost broke his hand with the contractions. And then Lisa decided to wait, had me in labour for fourteen hours.”
Your eyes widen drastically, mouth dropping open. She laughs when she sees your face, finishing up her last mug to sit next to you.
“Yeah, gave Frank just enough time to get there. And then there were four of us.”
She blinks, smiling, deep in thought.
“Billy was scared of her, he didn’t hold her for at least two months after, he’d somehow worked it into his head that she wouldn’t like him, but one night I got real sick, and while Frank was taking care of me, he’d begged Billy to come over and take care of Lisa. The first time Frank put her in Billy’s arms, she cried, at the top of her lungs. I thought Billy would have given up immediately, but he didn’t, he rocked her in his arms till she was asleep, and even after he held on to her for as long as he physically could.”
“The moral, of my very long story is that Billy isn’t someone who gives up at the first sign of trouble, and he’s definitely not someone that gets annoyed with someone he loves. If he chooses you, he’s going to stick with you. He knows what it’s like to have no one on his side, and because of that, his loyalty is unbreakable.”
Your heart squeezes in your chest. You wanted to know him the way she did. You wanted stories like this to smile at when you thought of him. You wanted to know what he looked like, riding an old era motorbike, and to see him so drunk he can’t make it to a couch.
“I lost all of my friends because of him.” You whisper, heartbroken, “They thought I cheated on Dominic. Friends that I loved, blocked me because they thought I’d done something terrible.”
She reaches to place her hand over yours, squeezing tightly.
“Maybe they weren’t very good friends to begin with.” She suggests softly.
You nod, understanding the point she was trying to get across.
She makes you tea, something calming that makes you sluggish, offers up one of Billy’s old shirts for you to sleep in, and shows you to the guest room. Not once, does she suggest you go back to his home, so easily welcoming, that sleep is attainable within minutes.
Maria, considers for a moment while watching you sleep, that she should tell someone that you’re here. No doubt Billy doesn’t know you left, travelled all the way here by your lonesome. She unlocks her phone, pulls up her husband’s number, and hesitates on the call button. Maybe Billy’s reaction to finding you gone would set the both of you straight.
She grins deviously, putting her phone away and getting ready for bed herself.
.
It’s almost three a.m when Billy gets back home. He’s tired, his shoulders sagging with having to carry the weight of them. His eyes hurt, feels so much discomfort in his whole body that only sleep can provide.
His shower is quick, functional, though the warm water begs him to stay and enjoy it, he gets out as soon as he can, ambling to the closet to grab a pair of comfortable pants for sleeping.
He moves in the dark, working on a memory of where everything is to stop him from making too much noise, not wanting to turn on the lights either, he really doesn’t want to wake you.
In the dark, his bed is deliciously comfortable, he lies on his front, before the area where his appendix was removed screams in protest and he’s forced to roll onto his back. He tucks his body under the soft duvet, feeling a thick sense of coziness overcome him.
He reaches a hand out- won't be fully comfortable until he touches your skin, confirming that you're there. In his drowsy state, he struggles to find you. He groans, moving even closer to where he thinks you are, fingers scanning the bed, only finding chilled sheets. He opens his eyes, squinting at the other side of the bed and sees no shape that even resembles you. You simply weren't here.
Were you sleeping somewhere else?
He sits up, rubbing an eye so that he can see a little more clearly, turning to flip on the bedside lamp to confirm that you really weren't next to him.
Yeah, definitely not in bed.
He stands, sways, groans, pads his way to the living room to find it empty, then searches your office, then his. He says your name, but the only thing that answers is the silence.
He grabs his phone, looking into the almost too bright screen, trying to decipher words that help him find your contact. He squints, pressing the call button before waiting.
Your phone rings and rings and rings and no one answers.
It's then, that Billy begins to feel the panic. He takes a deep breath, calling your number again, searching his house for anything he might have missed, anything at all that tells him where his wife had gone.
He calls for you, all sleep erased from his mind, he does a finer walk through of his place, looking for items out of place, signs of struggle.
If you'd left, someone would have seen you and told him, right?
What if you'd been kidnapped?
Billy feels his lungs seize up.
He looks down at his phone again, hands shaking, opening up the location app he'd installed just in case. He'd told you about it, told you how to disable it if you really didn't want to be found. This would help him narrow down what kind of situation he was in.
He lets a breath out when he sees your little symbol pop up- you'd chosen the image of a black cat for some reason- he zooms out, eyebrows drawing together when he sees where your phone is.
He closes the app, calls Frank.
“Whad'ya want, Russo?” Comes Frank's sleepy voice after a few rings.
“Is my wife in your house?” Billy asks, a lot calmer than he feels.
Frank says your name in question.
“Yes, Frankie, ask Maria.”
He hears some shuffling.
“It's four in the morning Bill, I'm not waking my wife for that, I'll just check the guest bedroom.”
Billy waits, listening to Frank's slow breaths, his hand gripping his phone tightly, his other hand curled into a fist.
“Oh yeah, there she is.”
Billy sags with relief.
You were okay.
“I'm coming.” Billy announces.
“Use your spare, I'm going to bed.” Frank grunts, before ending the call.
Billy grabs his coat and the keys to his fastest car and nothing more, leaving his apartment quickly, wide awake now more than ever.
He breaks every speed limit possible, makes it to Frank's home in half the time it usually takes. His body hurts as he has to move slowly now, quietly so that he doesn’t disturb the peace in the house.
He uses his spare key, locking the door behind him, double checking Frank's security while he's here.
He finds the guest bedroom easily, having stayed here countless times, he knows this place like he knows his own.
His stomach twists, he wonders why you left. Did you not want to be around him? Had something else happened? He knew that the chances of you running away were low, ever since he'd shamelessly listened to the conversation between you and Dominic (He'd bugged the office of course) he'd had an inkling that maybe you were growing to love him as much as he loves you.
The door clicks shut behind him, and he feels a sense of ease wash right over him at the sight of your sleeping form.
He pushes his coat off his shoulders, torso bare underneath as he climbs into bed and hovers over you.
His hands cup your face, waking you with a little start.
“Billy?” You hum, voice so tiny, his little wife disturbed from slumber.
He can't help it, leaning in to kiss you softly, followed by him wrapping his arms around you tightly.
“Why'd you leave home, baby, hmm?” He asks, cheek pressed to the top of your head.
Your voice is muffled in his chest.
“Was lonely.” You say.
It damn near breaks his heart.
“I'm sorry.” He sighs, and he means it with every bone in his body.
“S’alright, you're here now.”
And he is, crawls under the sheets, wraps you in his arms, and feels the stress drip right out of him. Only then, does he allow sleep to take him.
.
He wakes to laughter. He blinks, sitting up, an automatic response to the sound.
Hearing laughter while he slept was never a good sign. In the group home it meant that some poor kid's face was being written on. In the military, it was shaving cream on your hands, or dirt in your bed.
He bolts up, looks around, determines no danger before he relaxes.
He smiles, slips out of bed, and goes in search of one of the shirts he keeps around for situations like these.
.
“Honestly,” Maria says enthusiastically, uncapping the milk she just pulled from the fridge, “I thought we were goners, Billy was still recovering from that gunshot that almost made him bleed out in the desert, and Frank had several grazes, but even injured like that, the burglars never stood a chance.”
Your eyes are wide in suspense.
“Where was Lisa?”
“In bed beside me, Frank shook me awake and we hid in the bathroom. Ten minutes later, he came and got me cause the fight was over.”
“Holy shit, that sounds terrifying. I've had some almost run-ins with burglars as well at my old place.”
“Really? What happened?” Maria asks, really interested, concern in the undertones of her voice.
“It was close to Christmas and almost everyone in the building was out visiting family, but I was studying for an exam the next day for my old job.” You think back to it, deep in thought, “I remember hearing heavy footsteps in the hall, and then the sound of doors shaking. I had my lights off because they’d made my eyes burn and I was just using my lamp lights, so it maybe looked like I wasn’t home. The person was trying each door, shaking them hard. I can still hear the rattle. I texted Nic, and he’d told me to hide, but before I could call the police, the rattling just stopped. I sat in silence for a long time. I was kind of shocked dumb, and I didn’t call the police because it seemed like he left without any real harm being done. I probably should have, but also I really needed to study for this stupid exam. I did tell my landlord though, and she tightened security and it never happened again. I really regret not calling the police though.”
Maria nods, relating to you.
“Fear can really hold you in place. I’m sure whoever it was, got what they deserve, don’t stress about it too much.”
You smile, mimicking her nod. She really understood you, and you find yourself hooked to the Castles just a little bit more.
Just then her smile widens as her eyes flit behind you for just a second.
You turn to look back curiously when suddenly you get pulled into someone’s arms. You know it’s him from the moment you touch, you grin widely at the way he squeezes you.
“Excuse us for a second, Maria,” Billy says, hand gripping your wrist to tug you in the direction of the guest bedroom, “I need a moment with my wife.”
She nods, before remembering something.
“There are kids in the house.” She warns sternly, locking eyes with Billy.
“Wet blanket.” He shoots back as he tugs you around the corner and out of the room.
The door to the guest bedroom can only slink shut before you’re pressed against it. Your eyes fall shut as his mouth meets yours, your heart fluttering so surely that you’re sure it’ll fly soon. He kisses like he’s starving, hands holding your face, mouth eager against yours, you copy his fervour, pulling him closer by the shoulders, the delight of feeling your passion mirrored isn’t lost on you.
You smile up at him happily when the kiss breaks, only for him to drop his head once again, ever eager for just one more kiss.
“Is everything alright?” You whisper softly, confused about his feverish kisses.
“I’m sorry.”
“...For?”
He touches the tip of your nose softly with his.
“Where do I even fucking begin? I’m sorry I left you alone, I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to sneak out, I’m sorry that I’m the reason you have no friends-”
“-That one wasn’t really all you,” You interject, “They didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt.”
He shakes his head.
“I’m just… sorry for all the pain I put you through.”
You can’t bear to hear him say it, your throat squeezes tight at the very sound of the words.
“It’s alright,” You reassure, rising onto your toes to kiss him, “We’re alright.”
.
You peek at him while he drives, wondering if now was the best time to talk to him.
He catches you looking, raising an eyebrow curiously, eyes turned back to the road.
You think that maybe there’s no time like the present, and you take a deep breath, reaching out for his hand before you catch yourself, moving your hand back to your side.
Before you can get fully there, he reaches out, taking your hand in his. You turn your head to look at him in surprise.
“Notice you’ve been doing that a lot.” He murmurs, tugging your hand up to his mouth so that he can kiss the back of your hand, “Reaching for me and stopping halfway. Making fists with your hands to stop yourself. Why?”
“I just, don’t want to annoy you is all.”
He huffs in amusement, you feel his warm breath on the back of your hand.
“You’re funny.” He hums, giving your hand another kiss.
“I’m serious.” You whisper.
His lips part, eyebrows drawing together as he slows his driving a little to look at you.
“You’re serious?” He echoes, “You think you could annoy me?”
“I think I could annoy a saint.” You grumble.
“You know that I’m… obsessed with you right?”
“Are you? I hadn’t noticed.” You say dryly.
He huffs out a breath of amusement for a second time.
“Do you know what that means? It means I’ve seen your medical records.”
You glance at him, shock running down your spine.
“And?”
“And I’ve done background checks on everyone you’ve ever met.”
You try to swallow but your throat has gone dry.
“And?” You whisper, his hand is still in yours, holding on to you.
“And I know where you went to school, I pulled your student records, I’ve scoured the internet for your face and I’ve probably seen photos of you that maybe you don’t even know existed. I’ve wanted you since the day we met, and nothing could have stopped me,” He turns to look you in the eye, “Not even you.”
“I’m sorry to scare you, but if you think that I don’t know how needy you are, how touch starved, how badly you want to be held, what makes you cry, you’re lying to yourself. I know all of these things, and I want you because of them.”
You close your eyes, trying to process his words in a reasonable way.
God, there had to be something seriously wrong with the both of you. Him, for saying those things, and you, for managing to somehow feel reassured by them, even if there was a little fear mixed in.
You don’t say another word to him the rest of the way back.
There’s a silence all around you as you follow him into the apartment, a whirring in your ear that sounds like waves of static, disconnecting you from reality.
You reach out, gripping his arm tightly. He turns, looking down at you with an unnameable expression.
“I need you.” You say softly through half-gritted teeth, pulling him roughly, feverishly toward the living room.
He doesn’t say a word, and you’re grateful for that, he’s said enough already.
“Take it off.” You breathe, reaching for your own pants, pulling them off, followed by your shirt. He catches the intention behind your movement, and drops his coat easily.
When you get yourself naked, you lie back on the couch, not having to wait long before his naked body covers yours.
“Do you need me to-” He offers, and you silence him by pressing a finger to his lips.
You shake your head, reaching down, pumping his hard cock a few times before guiding him into your dripping wet core.
Billy gasps in surprise.
“Shocked?” You tease, “I thought you knew everything about me.”
His eyes darken, something terrifying crosses his features. He moves his arms, braces one on each side of your head. Your eyes flit to the snake curled over his shoulder.
“I don’t know everything about you,” He hums, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement, “But I will.”
.
.
.
A/N: Happy Holidays to you!
#billy russo#billy russo x reader#billy russo x female reader#my writings#the punisher#billy russo smut#dark!billy russo#accidentally on purpose#frank castle#Maria castle
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Insane reader my beloved. Literally my babygirl.
@katz-chow been ruminating on this one just for you <3
CW: Gore and violence
Reader who shows up late to their first meeting with the task force. Rolls up in their dark sedan with blacked-out windows and one too many dents on the front bumper wearing civvies instead of the uniform they were given and instructed to wear.
Reader who is a privately hired detective with a talent for interrogations. Not officially a member of the task force or the military because the tactics they use are far less than legal. More a secret weapon on retainer for when doing things by the book doesn’t do the trick.
Reader who gets on the good sides of the task force boys by being sugary sweet and barely hiding their true colors. Skins and bleaches the skulls of interrogations gone South and gives them to Ghost insisting they’re better than the costume store shit he’s got on now.
Gifts Price expensive cigars tucked between the fingers of a severed hand. Drops them off in large pink boxes with delicate ribbons and giggles when he asks a thousand questions about why and how and what the fuck he was supposed to do with this.
Tosses Gaz new knives on the field when they’ve landed a kill or just wrenched them out of someone’s stomach. They make a game out of chucking the gore-slicked blades at one another’s heads to see if they can dodge in time.
Starts playing dodgeball with Soap where they toss his less-stable bombs and unpinned grenades back and forth. Only stops after they’ve accidentally blown up the camp two missions in a row. (Also heavily rumored they have tramp stamps of each other’s names because they’re both too stubborn to back down from a dare but that’s just for vibes)
Reader who gets flown out on specialty missions where a hostage really refuses to talk and takes matters into their own hands. Sometimes hopping on radio when they’re in transit and requesting the force pulls extra men so they can play a live game of operation. They’ve been watching videos on the dark web and the first two seasons of Grey’s Anatomy from their military issued laptop so it’s like an 80% chance all the hostages live.
Reader who stops being allowed to train rookies because the first and only faux-deployment they led they told the group they ran out of rations three days in to a two week long training and they had to play rock-paper-scissors to create a bracket of people to eat first. The mission gets called early when Price gets word that there was actually a field amputation done. Reader doesn’t even apologize, just laughs their way through a barely reasonable explanation. I didn’t think they’d actually do it.
Reader who begs the boys to let them play kill, kiss, marry, kill in the middle of a boring interrogation and when they get told no or to focus on the task at hand, they throw such a fit that they end up sending a screwdriver through the eye of the person they’re supposed to be interrogating.
Reader who brings their own kit to interrogations. Lugs around pincers, rusted blades, rotary bone saws, and dull axes in a flamingo pink toolbox. Sets it up on a small table in front of the hostage and unboxes it like an influencer showing off PR.
Reader who also stops being able to run conditioning and drills with rookies because they pitted the privates against one another during a sparring session. Saying something about whoever could sheath a blade in the other first got a bonus check before tossing a few knives on the mat and walking away. Gaz had to run over and tell them you weren’t serious when he saw blood.
Reader who insists on being able to puppeteer the decapitated head of an enemy grunt they took down and reciting a few lines of Shakespeare to the boys. Dragging the mission out because they know as well as the boys do that everyone is on their timeline.
Reader who dances around hostages that have been zip tied to chairs and beat within an inch of their life. Singsonging threats and having the boys drag the limp bodies of their chain of command across the floor.
Reader who pouts when their victims pass out during questioning after a few of their fingers have been chopped off with a butcher’s knife. Huffs like they’re being put through a massive inconvenience and fishes smelling salts out of their toolkit to wake the poor sap back up.
#gn!reader but soooooooooo babygirl ykwim?#cod mw2#moongreenlight#moongreenlightwrites#call of duty#cod x reader#141 headcanons#drabble
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Snippet from chapter six of The Apothecary’s Daughter:
The space on the mattress where Peeta slept is cold when I wake. He’d spent the entire night, as far as I can tell, facing the kitchen, his back to me, leaving me as much space as he could. There’s a bowl of congealing spiced porridge with fresh fruit and nuts on the work table, as well as a slice of cheese and chunk of that fermented sausage on a small plate. I swallow every bite mechanically and then wipe my dishes with a wash rag at the sink, setting them aside to dry.
Dust coats every surface in every room I’ve peeked into, excepting the kitchen. My skin and the back of my throat itch from the air. Having no employment or direction from Peeta I’m determined to scour every surface. After setting the kettles on the wood stove to heat water, I root out my oldest coveralls from my trunk and tie a kerchief over my unpinned braids. My work boots are not as well worn as my hunting boots were, but they’re comfortable enough. Everyone in Twelve has at least one pair of serviceable boots. No one is above hard work here, even Mage, who’s family employs servants to cook and clean.
There is running water at the sink, but cleaning just the hall and library takes me the better part of the day. Kneeling on the floor, scrubbing in circles, plunging my hand back in the bucket, wringing out the cloth. Over and over. It’s laborious work, but doesn't take much brain power. Try as I might to focus on the simple task of taking something filthy and making it clean, my mind wanders back to yesterday. I only break down completely twice, though, and only once am I overcome enough that I must halt completely in favor of burying my face into the crook of my elbow. Once I emerge the water has gone stone cold and I’m forced to boil more.
I consider putting away all books stacked on the table in the library but ultimately decide to leave them out as I am unsure if Peeta has plans to read them and simply shift them around to dust the tabletop.
Sometime in the late afternoon Peeta returns from whatever he’d been up to and prepares dinner.
Wet and sore I finally haul the bucket into the empty kitchen for the last time. A plate of food on the worktable greets me; a plate of eggs cooked with herbs and topped with goat cheese. Again the copper tub is steaming with water. The light is dim as the sun sets, but I don’t bother lighting a candle. There is a definite lack of hunger pangs, but I force myself to eat; the fear that I may not know when my next meal will be still lurks. I rush though my ablutions, dress for sleep, and slip into the far side of the bed, facing the wall, before Peeta returns.
It’s nearly dark when the door opens and shuts again. There are footsteps and then a heavy sigh. The mattress dips as he settles beside me. His breathing soft and the smell from his soap reaches my nose. It’s early to sleep, but I’m thoroughly exhausted and expect to fall asleep immediately.
I don’t.
The urge to roll over and press myself into Peeta’s side and bury my face in his neck is so strong that I feel queasy. Against my will, hot angry tears slip out from my eyes. I try to breathe as silently as possible but accidentally sniff when my nose starts to run. Peeta shifts closer to me. Close enough that I can feel the heat of him.
“Katniss?” he says, tentatively. “Is there anything I can do?” Surely he’s about to reach for me, place a large warm hand on my back and stoke it soothingly. Surely this will undo me. If he touches me, if I let him comfort me, I will be lost.
“Just tired,” I say, and sharply. As if to insinuate he’s bothering me. I grip the quilt with my fists as the gutted feeling returns, and clench my teeth to keep from sobbing.
“Sorry,” he says, softly. Sadly. His pain doubles my own. I remind myself that this is for the best, to cleave our attachment now, before-
He rolls away, his back now facing mine. I feel the absence of his warmth keenly.
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Made a Mr. Compress animation! :D
Last time I used Krita to animate I kept messing up by accidentally switching layers every time, but seems like the trick is to use as few layers as possible, unpin layers you don’t need from the timeline, and not use folders (unless for coloring).😅
#mr. compress#sako atsuhiro#atsuhiro sako#mister compress#league of villains#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#animation#kaitoleen drawing stuff
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