#or what he's holding or why it's on fire or-

[daemonbrain]

1.8k, cw: ghosts a pervert, smut, readers husband is piece of work, not proofread.

Simon Riley who first saw you at the butcher's shop on the phone. 

You were a pretty thing. Wearing a pink little yoga set, one arm holding your mat and the other holding your phone to your ear as you wait for the butcher to bring out your cut of meat.

Which was taking a long time

Simon would’ve had it chopped and packed to go by now. Though, he can’t complain with the view he has of your ass- you. The man was touch starved. He hadn’t been back home in a while, back-to-back deployments keeping him occupied. His only company being his calloused and scraped hands roughly jerking himself until he came, bordering on unpleasurable. Not what some could consider enjoyable, but try being in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere for weeks on end and see if you care so much about gentle.

The borderline perverted look you were blissfully unaware of was tracking down your form. He stared at the way the material tightly clung on to every bit of you in a welcoming way, a second skin. The sweat on you from your little session.

Just how flexible does yoga make a bird like you?

It was only when he heard a grating sound come from your phone that he snapped out of his trance. Even with his bad ears from all the bullets whizzing past him, bombs going off within meters of him, and the usual shit show he did for a living he could hear the voice which bled through your phone's speaker.

"Get me a steak this time. Nonna that nasty shit from last time!"

You hurriedly turned your volume down as it blasted in your ear, startled by the voice. Chewing on your lip you pivoted towards the counter to see if your order had been brought out; the motion to no avail as the employee continued chopping away in the back room.

It was only when your other hand came into full view from the motion he noticed the absolute rock on your finger.

"Honey, I thought the salmon was pretty good." That prick clearly firing something back as you winced away from your phone once again. Gritting your teeth as if biting back your arguments, looking around to occupy your time as the man on the phone continues to speak. "I know... I'm sorry. Don't worry, it'll be ready by 7." You placatingly cooed.

"Listen, I have to go. I love y-" You began, but the moment the words tumbled from your lips you pulled the phone fully from your cheek to see a blank screen with the time staring back on you. The asshole hung up!

What a fuckin tosser.

Simon hears the butcher finally call your name with familiarity and with a sigh you step towards the counter. 

He leaned on to the wall further as he had been the entire time. Silent. Unsettling. A stark contrast to your bright appearance in the shop, the larger man brooded in his corner waiting his turn.

“See ya’ next Friday!” You still managed a bright smile at the butcher who handed you your meat.

A mild thing like you really shouldn’t be talked to so thoughtlessly, some guys are fuckwits though. He never liked the type. Why lock a bird down with a ring if you were gonna be mean to her?

“S’cuse me sir, i’m just gonna push past you here” You asked. With widened eyes, Simon gruffly mumbled a “Yeah,” out before creating a stupidly small space.

Maybe he really did want you to push past him. Or just push up on him but oh well.

Sweeping past him, you give him a toothy smile as you had so sweetly done to the butcher, as if you hadn’t got yelled at less than five minutes ago. God you really have no common sense, beaming up at the lurker in the corner at least twice your size. A girl as pretty as you should really stick to herself.

From that interaction on, Simon found himself being guided by the memory of you back to the butcher shop the next Friday.

And the next…

And the next.

Every week progressively standing closer and closer to you as you picked up your usual order. One day you had taken the liberty of starting small talk with him after recognizing his unmistakable stature. After all, there were only so many people you had seen in this shop and none so… large.

You could not deny you found this mystery man disquieting. Always dressed in dark colours, not so much as a word coming from him. Like clockwork you would come in after hot yoga, greet the butcher, he would come in, silence would ensue as you both waited for your meat, and you would leave with a quick smile.

It was rude. He had never even said a simple hello to you! Though, you suppose that it could be due to your own curt exits. The thought of the unkindness you might’ve exhibited subconsciously sent your mind into a spiral, leading to your abrupt introduction.

After all, who were you to judge! Kindness is and should always be the response in your books.

At this kindness, Simon swore he had to take a breath in as you politely outstretched your hand and spoke your name casually. Tilting his head down to your face he raises a brow skeptically, and then firmly shakes your head.

He failed to hide the shudder which wracked his body. The way your hand effortlessly slipped into his. Soft and manicured engulfed in his.

“Simon.”

“Well it’s good to meet you Simon” With the twinkly little smile you would grace him as you hauled it out of the shop. He felt the shiver go down his spine a second time when you spoke his name for the first time.

And then- it happened.

You giggled. A soft thing, no doubt intended to be small. It wasn’t to Simon though. It reverberated throughout the room, rang so prettily in his ears. Fuck. He would remember that sound later on tonight.

“Are you cold? You keep shivering. It’s pretty harsh out there right now.”

“Nah. Not really.” His accent thick as he shrugged.

Letting out a little “mhm” you nod and look back to the counter.

“I was freezing outside! Usually I walk home-” Simon already knew that “-but today I called my husband to come grab me! Way too cold!”

That visibly made him stiffen. Of course. Perfectly normal that guy is coming to get you, he’d be an idiot to leave you walking home alone in the cold.

If you were his girl, Simon wouldn’t have let you out of his sight. Fuck sakes you practically had “come mess with me” written all over you. There were creeps all over the place nowadays, (thought the creep).

He would’ve carried everything for you, scarfed down whatever the hell you had taken the time to prepare him. That husband of yours doesn’t like your salmon? Simon would. Hell if he didn’t, he’d cram it down his throat with gratitude anyways. He doubted anything could be worse than some of the rations he’s eaten on duty. 

That train of thought is pretty redundant when he takes note of how you wouldn’t be able to leave the bed to make anything.

Maybe you’d cram something of his down your throat in gratitude.

Shaking his head subtly, he hears the bells of the store door opening. He watched your face fall as you step away from him and it’s when he sees your husband's look of complete irritation he understands why.

You had grabbed your order swiftly and with a quick wave goodbye you were on your way back to your husband. Simon could only register your husband's whisper-yell as he disapprovingly glared his way. “The fuck are you doin talking to him?”. And with that you were hurriedly ushered out.

You deigned it necessary to continue greeting Simon, have little chats about the weather, any plans he had for the weekend. Tossing in your stupid jokes that he would laugh at. You interpreted it as something closer to a breathy snort-hopefully positive- and it went on as such for weeks

And every time he returned home Friday night, he came home with only one thought after. You.

As he laid in bed the same thought persisted as he slipped his cock out of his boxers, red and weeping for some sort of stimulation. He took to his usual harsh pace. You’d be so much softer.

You’d be so nice to him wouldn’t you? Coo some compliment as he lets you tug at him. Fuck he wouldn’t know what to take first.

Would you give him a blowie or a hand job? 

No. You wouldn’t be on your knees- not yet. If you’d let him have you, you’d be on your back in an instant. He’d rip the stitches of those leggings right down the middle, your panties next.

“Fuuuuuck” he moaned into the quiet of his room. He’d stick it in slow, he’d try. It would be torture not to ram himself right up to the hilt, but he’d do it for such a good girl.

That’s what you were, weren’t you? Always a nice word for someone? What would you say to him when he began to rut into you like a madman. When you would feel the pummeling intrusion, his head knocking into the deepest parts of you.

He’d be able bend you into so many different positions that you’d better hope that yoga has taught you well. Split your legs open to accommodate his imposing body size as he’d take purchase between them. Then you better hope your cunny can accommodate his other size when he spears you open on his cock.

Would you take it smiling? Would your tears roll down your cheeks, the prodding bordering too much? You’d take it either way, he knew you could. He’d rub at your clit with such tenderness he never afforded himself (as gentle as he could anyway). He’d make sure you begged to stay on his cock forever, fuck himself so deep you would be too stupid to pull away unknowing of where he ended and you started. Not that you’d have to care.

He’d flip you on to all fours and rip away your clothes entirely, pounding you from the back and instead of just his own labored breaths, the sound of skin slapping together would ring out.

In silent stoicism, he feels his balls tighten up at the thought of your perfect face stuffed into the pillows screaming your thank you’s. You probably were just as nice with someone stuffing themselves into your pussy.

At both his ruthless ministrations and boundless imagination, his release spurted all over his hand with a breathy sigh. When you were here he’d make sure to slam his hips to yours and keep them flush against you, coat your insides in hot cum better than your limp-dick husband ever could. That man wouldn’t be able to fuck you the way Simon knew he could. You deserve someone who could make you go stupid on his dick, not cry of frustration like you probably did everytime that knob who thinks himself a man rolled over after finishing himself off.

Not that you’ll have to worry about that soon

…

He wouldn’t be around for much longer anyways.

[just-some-random-blogger]

I said I was going to reblog this when I woke up. That was today and now I'm sleepy and about to go to sleep but I REFUSSSE TO DO SO BECAUSE MY GOSSHHH THIS GOD MEEEEE SOMMEEEEEE TYPAAA WAYYYYY HELLO????????? 😫😫😫😫😫😫

Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

I cannot put into words how this like... Changed my brain???? Like it's so beautiful and sensible and yah. That part. That would 100% happen if you were dating a twin like hello? Also idk the thought just makes me swoon ))))):

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.”

JSJDJDJSJJSJSJSJJSHSHSHHSHA HES SO STUPID THIS IS WHY HES MY FAVE BB GIRL ARE YOU SINGLE IM TRYNA GET YOU PREGNANT AYO MY GUY WHAT DO YOU MEANNNNNNN WHEN YOU SAY THIS UR SO SILLY WTFFFFFF IM GIGGLING LIKE I GET PAID TO DO IT

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

HE REALLY SAID SIS LOUDER AND

“If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

NASJJSJSBSJJSJSB IM SO SORRY THE GEORGE GIRLIE IN ME WANTS SO GO HELL YEAH LETS MAKE THAT RAT FREDDIE RUE THE DAY HE WAS BORN 😫😈😈😈 HES JUST SO DARLING I LUV HIM HES SO SILLY AND STUPID FUCKKKK

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.”

👏THAT👏PART👏 RIP HIM TO SHREDS GEORGE. ANNIHILATE THAT GINGER GIT

“Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?”

EXCUSE ME

He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch.

.... WHAT ABOUT IT

“Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?”

❓❓❓❓ DI BALE SANA NANDITO KA???? HELLO

(tr: NEVERMIND IF YOU WERE ACTUALLY HERE. and the pick is let's go stupid/idiot)

You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

I fear I may be quaking in my boots... It's not the only thing quaking.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.”

NO CUZZZZ

His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

I love icarusing myself WHAT ABOUT IT WEASLEY

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?”

HES GOT SUCH A DIRTY MOUTH ON HIMMMMMMM FUCKKKK OFFF

“Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

Raw. Next twin.

“My little whore needs more?”

“Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.”

Brat tame me then 🙄✋ I dare you also

Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

VIOLENTLY SHAKING IM ILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

UghhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHH SO GOOD NEXT TWIN LMAO HAHAHAHHH

Green-Eyed Monster | F.W.

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x f!reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f!receiving, (lots of) dirty talk, name calling, praise/degradation, dom/sub dynamic, some nipple play, touch of a breeding kink, possessiveness/jealousy, some toxic themes, established relationship, swearing, drinking, arguing, angst, fluff, sorry if miss any!

first hp fic in a very long time! what better to post than this mess (jealous, possessive, sexy mess). basically pwp—let me know what you think! (Barely edited at all lmao my apologies)

You sat quietly at George’s desk, eyes focused on a piece of parchment as you both tried to break down the recipe George had scribbled down. There was a hiccup, a hitch in the plan of brewing a batch of Euphoria Elixir for the joke shop, and it was pushing back your plans to place them on the shelves this week. After a few hours of quiet deliberation on his lonesome, George decided to seek your help in hopes of speeding up the process.

So, the two of you put your heads together and re-read the ingredient list a million times, wondering how the hell it turned out murky green instead of sunshine-y yellow. The cauldron sat smoldering across the room, a rain cloud above it as the bubbly mixture spilled over the sides. Upon first glance, you had stated the absolute obvious.

“Isn’t that supposed to be a rainbow?” You raised an eyebrow, looking at your brother-in-law as he collapsed in his chair.

“Yes, you git.” George rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. You shot him a sharp look, warning him to be nice if he wanted your help. You knew George didn’t mean any of the insults—he was simply frustrated and maybe even a little embarrassed that he could not figure it out by himself. “Sorry, Y/N.” He conceded, realizing he came on a bit too strong.

“S’alright.” You assured him, stepping towards the desk where he sat. “Where’s the ingredient list? We’ll start there.” You offered, knowing you would help no matter how poor of a mood he was in. You loved George almost as much as you loved Fred, if you had to compare. Even if it was in a different way, you had a hard time refusing him when he used the same charm tactics as his twin brother.

After spending so many years in a relationship with Fred, it would be obscure for you not to have a bond with the closest person to him. Over the years, he’d surpassed a friend and had grown into your own brother. You were certain that no matter where life took you and Fred, George would always hold a special place in your heart. When the two opened their shop in Diagon Alley, you volunteered most of your free time to help them in any way you could, and whether it was tweaking new products or doing some of the dirty work, you never really minded.

That evening in specific, Fred was off on some ‘official business’, which really just meant meeting with a potential product buyer at The Leaky Cauldron. Last month, George took the burden of doing so, and they decided it was only fair for him to do it this time. Unfortunately for you, as much as you loved supporting them, it did interfere with your evening plans with him. So, sulking and trying your best to swallow it down, you distracted yourself with stocking shelves downstairs to prepare for another busy day ahead.

You were actually near grateful when George emerged from the office, calling out to you in desperation. It gave you a break from the monotonous back and forth, and someone to talk to. If it could not be Fred, you decided George was the next best.

“So, what’d’ya think it could be?” George asked, peeking over the cauldron that was still spitting back at him. He dodged out of the way, trying his best not to get any of the splashback on his new jumper.

“Well, from what you’ve told me, seems like you put all the right stuff in.” You deducted, pursing your lips slightly as you read over the list for what seemed like the millionth time. “Sad as it sounds, I doubt we can save it now, even if we figure out what happened.” You said, recalling your potions knowledge that Snape had relayed over the years.

“Right, but I’d like to know what’s wrong before I try again.” He explained, taking a moment to look over your sad expression. His eyebrows furrowed, his head cocking to the side as he tried to figure out where it was coming from. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Your eyes flickered upwards to meet his, your cheeks tinged red from the heat of the room. Your lips dipped into a frown as you shrugged your shoulders, brushing him off so you did not need to explain yourself. “I know you better than that. Come on, now.” He urged, placing his palms flat against the desk as he leaned towards you, a challenging look in his eye.

You narrowed your brows, keeping a stony expression as you met his gaze. “What’s it to you, Weasley?” You shot back, unsure of where your defensive nature was coming from. Perhaps you weren’t willing to discuss your relationship problems with your boyfriend’s twin brother, or maybe it was because you felt foolish for being upset at all.

“Reckon we’re past that, hmm? Your problems are our problems, and all.” He responded, also unsure of why you were being so reserved with your thoughts. Usually, you were an open book, especially with the two of them.

“My problems aren’t your problems, Georgie.” You shook your head, shutting down the ridiculous notion. “Let’s get back to the real problem, yeah?”

“No, I don’t think so.” George disagreed, his concern now over something completely different. “Is it about Fred?” At that, the tips of your ears began to burn and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “Ah, I see.” A devious smile crossed his lips.

“It’s not a big deal.” You covered your tracks, tapping the ink-less quill against the worn parchment.

“I have a hard time believing you, considering you just lied to me.”

“Lied is a strong word,” you rolled your eyes, quickly realizing that there would be no escaping the conversation. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“What’s he done?”

“Nothing!” You exclaimed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “It’s just… I’m just being dramatic.” And it’s true, you were being dramatic. Well, maybe not fully, but that’s what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I just miss him, I suppose. I know you both have been busy, but I think maybe I underestimated how busy you would actually be.” You continued, knowing it was wrong to confide in his twin brother about your relationship issues. Still, it felt good to get it off your chest, to voice the concern and have someone shoot you down, just so you knew you were being irrational. “This is the third night in a row we’ve canceled our plans. I’ll get over it. It’s no big deal.”

“That’s a big deal.” He hummed, sympathizing with you to make you feel better. “Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.” But you weren’t asking him, and somehow his justification of your feelings only made you feel worse. “What? Not allowed to speak my mind?”

“No—“ you let out a defeated sigh, slumping down in your seat. “I know that, but I was hoping you would tell me I’ve gone mad, instead.”

“Blimey, Y/N, you’re allowed to be upset. We're busy, yeah, but you’re still his girlfriend.” George said, jumping slightly when the rain cloud above the cauldron let out a crack of thunder. “If you’d rather, we can forget the elixir and grab dinner instead. I’m not Fred, but I’m pretty damn close.” He gave you a cheeky smile, earning an honest laugh from you.

“S’alright, Georgie. Thank you, though.” You appreciated his kindness, but you were sure it would only make your predicament even worse, considering Fred’s recently acquired short-fuse when it came to you and George spending so much time together. It was odd for him to be so protective, so jealous of the one person in the world he needn’t worry about, but it seemed as though the new trait was permanent. Perhaps it came from the fact he was also missing you due to your busy schedules, and how it sometimes seemed you and George were most often left at the shop alone.

“You know, I have noticed that lately.” George continued, leaning against the desk as he reminisced over the last few weeks. “Always seems to be us stuck here together.”

“Mhm.” You mumbled, slowly realizing that you weren’t as insane as you previously thought if he was noticing all of the same things. “Let’s just figure this out so I can get home.”

So you did. A grueling hour spent recounting George’s every step in brewing the elixir left the two of you puzzled and even more frustrated. By that point in the night, you were hunched over the long list of his steps you had jotted down so you could (hopefully) discover what he missed.

“I dunno, Georgie.” You sighed. “Seems like you did everything—“ you cut yourself off, leaning closer to the page on the desk as you caught something you hadn’t seen before.

“What?” He asked, his head snapping towards you. “What is it?”

“You said when you let it simmer, it was turquoise.” You said, looking up at him.

“Yeah, so?” He replied, confused why it was such a big deal.

“It’s meant to be blue.” You explained, a grin on your face as you relayed the information to him.

“Turquoise… blue… same thing, innit?” He asked, standing and walking over to you.

“Maybe to you.” You giggled, pointing to the piece of paper where he missed the step. “After you add the shrivelfig, you have to stir it until it changes color.” He walked up behind you, placing one hand on your arm as he leaned over your opposite shoulder. He smelled of butterbeer, likely due to the one he’d been nursing the entire time you sat together. You immediately noticed the warmth of his body, how similar it felt to how Fred touched you, but how drastically different it was all the same.

“Blimey, you’re right!” He exclaimed, his voice still soft so he was not yelling in your ear. “What would I do without you?” He gave your arm a gentle squeeze, leaning closer and pressing the side of his face to yours in a makeshift hug. His hand dropped to your back, lingering there as the conversation continued.

“It’s nothing, really.” You smiled, closing your eyes to enjoy the warmth for a moment. “So now you know. You can do it again, but make sure to stir it until it’s blue. By tomorrow, we’ll have it bottled and on the shelves just like we planned.”

“Our number one girl, saving the day yet again.” He sighed in relief. “I better get to it—“

Before his thought could finish, the door to the office swung open, cutting him short. Your eyes turned upwards, landing on a slightly drunken version of the boyfriend who’d abandoned your evening plans. The gloss of his eyes and the goofy smile on his lips led you to believe so, and the redness on the apples of his cheeks only solidified it. Only his cheeky grin didn’t last too long when he processed the scene in front of him, how close the two of you were, how heavy George’s hand seemed on your back and how rosy your own cheeks were.

Quickly, his jaw tightened, his gaze narrowing as he tried to decipher the whole situation. His nostrils flared ever so slightly, and his arms raised to cross over his chest. Immediately, you knew what you’d be in for; a long, tiresome argument that changed absolutely nothing. Instead of fighting the silent accusations, defending yourself for no real reason at all, you watched him with the same intensity while you awaited a snide comment.

“So what’s all this, then?” Fred asked, his face clearly conveying all of his emotions.

“Helping Georgie make the elixir while you were off getting sloshed at The Leaky Cauldron.” You muttered, noticing George straighten himself up in hopes of avoiding any further damage.

“I was not getting sloshed, I was doing business.” He corrected, defensive over the fact. “S’pose you were hoping I’d take a little longer, yeah? Give you some more time to cozy up with my brother?”

“Blimey, Fred. If you took any longer, I’d imagine you’d have to move in with the lad.” George took your side on the matter. “At least she wouldn’t have to worry about you missing dinner again.” At that, Fred’s eyes cut to you, immediately understanding where the underlying tension was coming from.

“Is that right?” Fred’s voice was no louder than a whisper, all of the pieces clicking together in an instant. “I don’t suppose the two of you had dinner? Let him fill in for me while I was gone?”

“No, we did not.” You snipped, standing as you gathered the ingredients for George’s second attempt at the brew.

���Yeah, right. What else did he fill in for, sweetheart? Anything you think I should know?” At that, your eyes widened and your face turned red. Your entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames, appalled that he would even think such a thing.

“Piss off, Fred.” You muttered, stepping out from behind the desk as tears stung your eyes. George shot you a sympathetic look as you pushed past his brother and out into the stairwell. You trodded down to the main level, swiping fallen tears away from your cheeks as you rushed out the front entrance of the building.

The cool air of the night was nice, especially after spending so long cramped up in the tiny office space, but it was not as freeing as you might have hoped once you heard footsteps following behind you. Without acknowledging him, you pulled your keys from your pocket, hoping that maybe he forgot his own set and you wouldn’t have to deal with his drunken arguments tonight if you got inside before him.

Of course, you knew that was childish and cruel, because despite being upset with him, loving him was the only thing you knew how to do. You unlocked the front door, holding it open with your boot-clad foot as he stumbled his way behind you. As soon as he passed through the doorway, you continued on your journey to ignore him and tossed your keys on the counter.

“Hey,” Fred reached out, his warm hand landing on your arm, stopping you from running any further from him.

“What?” You snapped, immediately regretting the harshness of your tone. He recoiled at the sound, shocked that you spoke to him in such a way. Usually the two of you saw eye to eye on everything, and in your long standing relationship arguing had never been your thing. Until you left school, you were certain the two of you had never been angry at each other, ever.

“What the bloody hell was that about? I leave for a few hours, and the two of you get on like that? Does that happen every time I step out?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, wondering why this became such a problem in the few short months you’d been graduated.

“Merlin, Fred. You’re acting like you caught us in a broom closet.” You tried again to make your way to the bedroom, unwilling to argue a point he knew was blasphemous anyhow. “We were working, not fucking.”

“Yeah, but I bet you would’ve let him, right?” He grabbed your hand, spinning you back around to face him. He pulled you into him, his athletic build never leaving him even after he stopped playing quidditch. “Bitching and moaning cause I couldn’t be home to take you to dinner… if you were so upset, why didn’t you come to me, princess? Tell me what was wrong?” You could smell fire whiskey on his breath, feeling his chest heaving with anger against your own. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal run through you. The slight sneer on his face, the fire in his eyes, and the protective hold he had on you was sending your head spinning with thoughts much less pertinent to the topic at hand.

“Maybe I would have if you spared me the time of day.” You argued, finding yourself short of breath as you realized just how much he towered over you. “But, as it seems, you’ve been too damn busy to spare me a second glance.”

“Christ, when did you get so needy?” His rebuttal came easy, like he’d been waiting to have this fight for weeks. “Weren’t satisfied at home, so you thought my brother could do it for you?”

“Are you daft?” You hissed, feeling his fingers tighten on your hips. You hated that the feeling made you forget about your troubles, urging you to push the argument to the side and settle it in a better, more pleasurable way. “If that’s what I wanted, you think I’d be up here arguing with you?”

“That depends, sweetheart. Were you planning on getting caught?” He raised an eyebrow, the thud of his heart against his chest letting you know just how worked up he was. There was no way he truly believed you would do that to him, especially after all you had been through together. You wondered if maybe the lack of time spent with each other was getting to him, souring his thoughts because he missed you just as much as you missed him. “We may be identical, Princess, but he could never give you what I can.”

You hated to admit it, but for some strange reason, jealousy looked really good on him.

“What, a headache and a poor mood?” You decided to play his game if he wasn’t willing to listen to reason. If he wanted to fight, you could do it too. “I’m sure he could manage. In fact, he could probably do a hell of a lot more.” That seemed to strike a nerve in him, pushing him over the edge in an instant and changing the entire mood hanging heavy in the room. He no longer wanted to talk, but rather prove a point.

He took a step backwards, never easing his hold as he pushed you towards the kitchen table. He didn’t stop until your ass hit the edge, a mischievous look in his eye replacing the earlier annoyance. He had you locked in place, no intent to back down as he stared down at you over the bridge of his nose. Then, a small smirk turned the corner of his lips, leading you to believe he was also thinking of a much more simple way to solve your problems.

“Maybe you just need a reminder of who you belong to, yeah?” He asked, his voice quieter than it was before. You felt your mouth run dry, your eyes never leaving his as a dull ache between your legs began to pester you.

That would make you feel better, but he had pissed you off enough that you wanted to refuse him the satisfaction.

“Maybe we should get Georgie up here. According to you, he’d be the one to set me straight.” There was a slight venom in your tone letting him know you wouldn’t be letting anything go so easily. A low chuckle shook his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a sinister look you weren’t sure you’d ever seen from him before that night. He shook his head ever so slightly, playing into you as he reached one arm behind you.

Your heart raced as you awaited a response, wondering if maybe you pushed him too far and crossed a boundary you could not double back on. You didn’t have to wonder long, because without a second thought, he cleared all of the items littering the table with one swift move of his arm. Papers scattered everywhere, floating through the air and landing all over the floor. Broken products and half finished merchandise for the shop tumbled off the edge, falling less than gracefully onto the tile below. Without ever breaking eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, daring you to say it again.

“You think he can fuck you better than I can?” He asked, giving you the opportunity to change your mind.

“Right now? Yeah.” You spat, wondering if he’d ever drop the act and get on with his day. “Seems like all you want to do is get on my nerves.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin. The tip of his nose grazed your own, his normally warm and comforting irises engulfed by his lust-blown pupils. Or perhaps it was anger that gave him the new look—you weren’t quite sure. “You’d rather go home with him at night? Wake up next to him every morning? Is that really what you want, princess?” He taunted, knowing very well that your heart was his, even if he found himself caught up in a few moments of doubt.

Still neglecting to give him any gratification, you nodded your head despite the sickening feeling that washed over you at the thought. As if he called your bluff before you ever said it aloud, he laughed at the certainty in your action, which only seemed to anger you further.

“If that’s the case, seems like I’ve got my work cut out for me tonight.” He responded, brushing the comment off as if it were nothing. If there was one thing Fred couldn’t ever turn down, it was a challenge, and since coming upstairs with you, it was only further proven to him that’s all this was. “Maybe I’ve gotten too comfortable, sweetheart. After so long, you think you’d know that you’re mine, huh?” Before he continued his tyrant, he used his hands on your hips to lift you onto the table with ease. The ache between your legs had grown stronger, more intense and impossible to ignore. You could feel the wetness soaking through your panties, and the thought of his strong arms lifting you so carelessly only made you spiral further. “Maybe I expect too much of you.” He theorized, recognizing the gleam in your eyes because he’d seen it a thousand times before.

He let his hands trail under the hem of your jumper, settling on the button of your jeans as he undid it with ease. You never let your eyes trail from his face, realizing that no matter how upset you were, it could never take away from how much you loved him. He was beautiful, his fiery red hair and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose creating a perfect picture. The softness of his complexion and the gentleness hidden deep in his expression assured you that whatever the two of you were doing was nothing more than an act. He knew you were his just as well as you did, but he knew the only way to settle the (admittedly, misguided) fear was to hear you say it aloud.

You helped him pull the fabric from your legs, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lifted your hips from the table. He discarded the clothing on the floor, paying no mind to it as he returned his hands to your bare legs. His eyes searched your face, carefully looking for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a pleading expression that only seemed to fuel his too large ego even further.

“No matter,” he disregarded his earlier rant, his eyes growing heavy as his hand fell between your legs. His fingertips grazed the thin fabric separating him from your core, a shiver running down his spine as he noticed the arousal that had soaked straight through. “I don’t mind having to show you. Least I’ll get to have my fun too, yeah?” He applied slight pressure to your aching clit, watching to see your reaction. Your eyebrows knitted together, your lips parting slightly as your hips moved forward into his hand, your body betraying your mind and begging him for something more.

At that, a grin encased his face, happy to see that he hadn’t lost his touch, even if your lives were vastly different and ever-changing by the day. He knew exactly how to make you feel good, and he took pride in it.

“See, Princess? She’ll always tell me the truth.” He taunted, his voice quiet as his eyes trailed down to his hand. You swallowed hard, knowing he had you in a stalemate. “Tell me again, who do you think knows how to make you feel good? Who does it best?” He was on a power trip, unwilling to slow down until he heard you admit it. Still, you stood your ground, pressing your lips tightly together so not a single sound could pass through. His grin faded, slowly sinking into a scowl as your disobedience remained clear.

He removed his finger from you, tracing the hem of your panties as he hooked his finger through the side of the fabric resting on your hip. He awaited an answer, giving you the opportunity to change your mind. When you kept your stoicism, he gave one, hard tug on the lacy fabric until it snapped in two. He used his other hand to do it to the opposite side, giving himself easy access to you without hearing a complaint on your end.

“So you don’t care who’s between your legs?” He continued, unrelenting as you stared him down. “Doesn’t matter who, as long as there’s a cock in you? As long as someone’s taking care of your pretty pussy?” Your cheeks flushed, your chest burning as the filthy words washed over you. “Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. When I’m done with you, I’ll be the only person you can think of. Surely then you won’t be able to forget who you belong to.”

His hand connected with your bare cunt, his fingers trailing through your arousal and settling over your clit as he began to trace slow circles into the sensitive area. Your legs trembled at the contact, finally feeling some relief from the nagging sensation that had been taking over.

“Fuck. Fred.” You whispered, giving yourself away immediately. He let out a low hum, pleased with the sound and knowing he was the reason for it. He had you where he wanted you, and now he just had to keep up the pace. You could feel his hardening length against your leg, distracting you completely from the pent up anger and frustration.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, his middle finger sinking inside of you as he let his thumb take over on your clit. “That’s my girl.” He made sure to accentuate the claim, never once letting you forget it. “All you needed was a little help remembering.” Slowly, he pumped his finger into you, keeping time with his thumb as he began to work you towards a climax. “You want to say it for me? Tell me what I already know?” Instead of responding, you let out a whine, your hips bucking forward into his hand. Although it wasn’t what he was looking for, it was just enough for him to keep going.

He curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, begging for a reaction as your hand wrapped around his bicep for support. You felt the tense of his muscles as he worked at you, only pushing you closer to insanity. You were his, undoubtedly and wholeheartedly, and you would be crazy to ever want anyone else.

“Stubborn little thing tonight.” He remarked, his eyes focused on the point in which his hand met with you, never breaking his stare as he watched his fingers disappear into you. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Need more, Freddie.” You replied, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pleasure pulsing under your skin. It had been a long time since you felt him this way, and your impatience was quite clear.

“My little whore needs more?” He teased, applying a little more pressure with his thumb. A gasp fell from your lips, sending your upper half leaning forward until your forehead rested against his. “Asking a lot from someone you aren’t being very good for.” He chastised you for your behavior despite being the one that caused the problem in the first place.

“M’sorry, my love. S-so sorry.” You rushed out, his fingers brushing against the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“That’s not what I want to hear sweetheart, and you know it.” His tone was firm, unrelenting as he continued his torment. You let out a groan of frustration, wishing he’d quicken the pace and give you what you wanted, even though you refused to give in to him.

He leaned forward, closing the gap between your mouths as he grew tired of waiting for the words he wanted to hear. He tasted like the whiskey that had been fuelling his poor mood, sweet and bitter all at once as his tongue grazed your bottom lip. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you into a mess, hated how easy it was for him to make you forget you were angry at all. You pulled him closer to you, holding his arm tightly so he would not pull away. You were stubborn, but despite that, you were showing him everything he wanted to see through your actions alone.

You broke from the kiss as a particularly intense wave of euphoria pulled your stomach. Your forehead continued to rest on his, holding you upright as he continued to give you just enough to keep you satisfied.

“Say it, princess.” His voice was low, raspy and laced with desire as he watched you turn into a mess below him. “Tell me you’re all mine. Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.” Instead, you connected your mouths again, letting a desperate moan out at the same time. He drank in the sound, his cock throbbing as his hips jutted forward into nothing. He was almost more desperate than you were, which only allowed for you to take him less seriously.

“G-gonna have to try harder than that.” You found a peculiar pleasure in leaving him on edge, giving him a taste of his own medicine as he continued to torture both of you at once. “Show me why I should say it, Freddie. Seems like you’re all t-talk.” You stuttered, tripping over your words as you tried to keep your composure.

He withdrew his hand from you, making you cry out in frustration from the loss of pleasure. Your eyes met his, desperation written all over your face as you protested his actions. Silently, he sunk to his knees between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the table by your hips. He didn’t spare a single glance at your face before his tongue connected with your core, the warm wetness of his tongue even more pleasurable than the rough pad of his thumb.

You laid back on the table, your hands sinking downwards and tangling in the soft locks of hair. Although you were denying him of the statement he wanted to hear, you could not deny that your last argument was wholly untrue. Fred was determined to prove a point, and he was doing it well.

You weren’t far off from an orgasm, his tongue making quick work at pushing you to the edge. The sounds falling from your lips were telling of your current state, and as delirium began to set in, your defenses began to break down.

He suctioned his lips around your clit, adding his fingers to the mix and returning to his earlier pace to torture you further. Every nerve in your body was ablaze with desire, need seeping from every pore as you realized just how badly you needed the release. Sick of the game, you finally broke in fear he would leave you hanging yet again.

“Oh, god.” You gasped, your legs resting over his shoulders in attempt to stop the constant trembling of the lips. “I’m yours, Fred, fuck!” You exclaimed, a sheen layer of sweat forming over your forehead as the knot in your belly began to tighten. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody else.” You whined, your fingers tightening on the locks of hair as you began to tug at the strands. You could feel him smiling against you, happy to finally hear you admit the truth.

Pleased with your confessions, he curled his fingers against your g-spot one last time, generously giving you the very thing you’d been pleading for. In a mess, your entire body tensed as the pleasure took hold. The orgasm washed over you, leaving your heart racing against your chest and your head swirling with filthy thoughts for the boy between your legs. A hum of approval let you know he was more than happy with your performance, and he kept his pace until he felt you relax against the table below you.

Once he knew he’d gotten the most out of you, he rose to his feet, towering over you as you laid below him. In the dim moonlight, you could see your orgasm glistening on his chin, only furthering his cockiness as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip so he did not waste a drop of it.

“Always taste so sweet, princess.” He whispered, using one hand to free himself from his pants and his boxers. “And it’s all for me.” He continued, slipping his shirt from his head. He used it to wipe his face clean before tossing it on the floor to join the growing pile of clothes. With shaky hands, you lifted your upper half from the table and pulled your own jumper over your head. “Isn’t that right?” He stepped toward, settling between your legs as his hands ghosted over your bare thighs.

You let out a whimper, his grip landing on your already sore hips as his eyes raked over your entire frame. Your gaze flickered to his cock, hard and aching for relief as he continued to tease you. His fingers tickled your stomach as he trailed his touch upwards, his palm landing flat against your breast as he gave it a gentle squeeze. He let the pad of his thumb brush over your hardened nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He wasn’t playing anymore; he wanted to hear the words, and he was done with your obstinacy. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger,

“Yes,” you huffed, already forgetting the pleasure from your first climax as a whole new wave of need began to take over. “I’m yours, Fred. All yours.” You reiterated your earlier statement, now willing to do whatever he wanted of you to prove the point.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He shot you a twisted little smile, almost as if he was getting off just from the thought of you begging for him.

“I need it, baby. Need to feel you, please.” You whined, reaching for his arms and pulling him closer. “Want you so bad, Fred. Been waiting all night for it.” You felt the tip of his cock connect with your cunt, his expression faltering as soon as he felt the wetness.

“God, you make it so hard to be upset with you.” He hissed the words through his teeth, using his hand to guide himself through your folds as he sucked in a sharp breath. He settled himself just over your already sensitive clit, pushing his hips forward ever so slightly to apply pressure to the spot. “Sound so pretty when you’re begging to be fucked.”

Slowly, he let his tip run back through your arousal, settling the head just at your entrance. He pushed himself forward, but just barely. You whimpered as you braced yourself for the feeling, only to be let down when he stopped himself from going any further.

“Fred,” you warned, catching his eye so he could see your desperate face. You hoped that if he did, he would stop being such a tease. “Please fuck me.”

“What was that?” He smirked, turning his head slightly so his ear was closer to you. “Didn’t quite catch it.”

“Fred, stop—“ you cut yourself off, letting out a huff of annoyance. You knew chastising him for his actions would only make him less likely to give in, even if it was incredibly hard to hold it back. “I need you to fuck me.” You repeated, clearer and louder in hopes of swaying his decision. “Can’t wait any longer, baby. Please.”

At that, he pushed forward the rest of the way, sending your entire body raising with goosebumps. The stretch as he filled you was exactly what you craved, and as he reached the hilt, his tip brushed against your g-spot so delicately that it almost made you come undone right then and there. Your eyelids grew heavy with satisfaction, focusing on how full you felt with him inside of you, knowing that he for certain would always be the one for you.

“That good enough for you, Princess? This is what you wanted?” He asked, letting himself rest inside you for a moment. He felt your walls flutter around him, pulling him even further and making it harder for him to resist you.

“Mhm,” you hummed, giving him a tired nod of agreement. You could feel him throbbing inside of, desperate for a release just like you had been moments before, but he was still trying to prove his point.

“Nobody else gets to have you like this, sweetheart. You’re mine.” He whispered, now sober from the alcohol but intoxicated by an even stronger, deadlier force; you. “He couldn’t fuck you like this, and you know it.” As he spoke, he withdrew his hips and slammed them forward into you again. The action stole the breath from your lungs, twisting your stomach with pleasure as your nails scratched over his skin.

He began at a pace, slower than normal but the force behind his movements making your head spin. You moaned quietly, lost within the feeling of being so close to him. He never failed to take your breath away, never failed to amaze you with his every move. You were so in love with him it sometimes felt like there was no room within your heart for anyone or anything else.

“Tell me, Y/N.” He ordered, his stare never wavering as he fucked into you. As much as he wanted to succumb to the sensation of you wrapped around him, he found it hard to push the thoughts of your earlier arguments out of his head. “You think he’d fuck you like this? You think he could make you feel this good?”

“No, Freddie.” You gasped, feeling the strength of his thrusts increase, sending the legs of the table wobbling. His fingers tightened on your hips, likely leaving behind angry red marks that would fade into reminders of him for days to come.

“That’s it, Princess.” He panted, his chest heaving as he tried to resist the pull of pleasure. “Don’t you think, not even for a second, that anyone can give you half of what I can.” You both knew this to be fact; nobody in the entire world could ever compare to him. “And why do you think that is?”

“‘C-cause I’m yours,” you managed to stutter out the response, watching him as the statement washed over. He brought his hand to your thigh, your legs wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you back on him with every thrust. His head fell back on his shoulders, the dim light of the room casting a beautiful hue over his already breathtaking features.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming his hips forward again. There was a thin layer of sweat sheen on his chest, the toned muscles of his abdomen flexing every time he moved. The exposed columns of his neck made your mouth water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed back his own groans of pleasure. “Was that why you were mouthing off? You just needed someone to take care of you? Just needed me to fuck you?”

“God, yes.” You moaned, feeling the pressure in your belly begin to reach a peak.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? All over my cock?” He smiled, looking down at you so he could appreciate the view. “Come on now, making a fucking mess of it.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered, his words hitting you hard and causing the tightening knot in your belly to tense even further.

“That’s my pretty girl. Just like that.” He continued to encourage you, studying your expression as pleasure began to twist it.

It didn’t take much more for you to descend into another orgasm, your entire body quivering as you cried out for him, singing his name like a hymn and he was the god in which you prayed to. Your throat was raw, raspy from the constant string of moans passing your lips. You were tired, almost too fucked out to continue on, but he was having none of it. He didn’t slow his pace as you came down from the high, instead speeding up and ensuring that he pulled your entire body down on him as he fucked into you.

“Freddie, please.” You breathed, feeling the threat of overstimulation begin to creep in. He would have had sympathy had he known you couldn’t take it, but he was confident in your ability to keep up with him.

“What’s wrong, Princess? Wanted it so bad and now you can’t handle it?” He asked, his eyes glazed over with lust as he felt himself approaching his own orgasm. You frowned at his words, now on a quest to prove your own point as you tried to ignore the stinging beginning to set in.

“I can t-take it.” You huffed, a shiver running down your spine as he reached upwards and palmed your breast. He gave the supple flesh a gentle squeeze, his eyes closing in bliss as he let himself slip out of the persona he had created.

“Being so good for me—just a bit longer now.” He whispered, his voice far away as his eyes settled over your face once more. “Bloody hell, Y/N.” he groaned, his forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed together. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He slipped his hand between your legs, his thumb landing atop your clit. He traced slow circles, knowing you were a bit further behind him and unwilling to climax without giving you at least one more. He could see how tired you were, but it did not deter him from his commitment to pleasing you.

“I love you, Fred.” You whispered, softened entirely by the sweet look in his eyes. All of his previous anger fled, leaving him just as the boy you’d fallen so hopelessly for.

“I love you, sweetheart.” He hummed, his hips stuttering and his stature faltering. “Give me one more, yeah? I know you can do it.” And he was right, your entire body was ablaze with another orgasm much more powerful than the last two.

“Together?” You gasped, reaching up and settling your palm on his cheek.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He encouraged your train of thought. “Want me to fill that pretty cunt? Really show you who you belong to?”

“Fuck yes, please.” You cried, your fingertips tangling in the locks of hair hanging over his ears. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him in and effortlessly finishing what you had started.

You felt his hips stall, a low growl leaving his lips as he pulled you down on him one last time. He managed to whisper your name as he spilled his release into you, the feeling of him filling you completely sending you spiraling on your own accord. You let out a defeated sigh, the tail end of it turning into a whine as your body went rigid. Your nails scratched at the skin of his arm, your hand on him the only thing keeping you tied to earth instead of floating up and through the clouds.

The both of you rode the high together, euphoria infiltrating every nerve in both of your bodies as he leaned down towards you. Ever so gently, he laid his head on your chest, which was still heaving as you tried to catch up from the lack of oxygen. He placed a plethora of small kisses against the warm skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he appreciated the comfort that came with your company.

Silence hung heavy between you for a few moments, neither of you sure where to go from there. You were still strung out on bliss, barely remembering what got the two of you in the position until he spoke again.

“M’sorry, sweetheart.” His voice barely broke through the room, so timid and shy that you almost missed it completely. “I know you’d never do that. Just got in my head, I s’pose.”

“I… I get it.” You sighed, twisting a lock of his hair. “If I walked in on that, after us being so.. you know. I’d likely feel it too.” You confessed. “I was upset that we had to cancel dinner. I am upset, but not at you.” You tried your best to explain yourself despite exhaustion eating away at your mind. “I’m just upset because I miss you. You’re so busy now, and I’m happy for you, really, but I miss you too.”

“You think I was bloody happy about it?” Fred chuckled, the tip of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin. “I’d much rather be here, with you.” At that, you relaxed completely, understanding that you had gotten too far into your own head. “It’s my favorite place to be. Always has been.”

“Mine too, Fred.” You hummed, smiling softly at the thought.

“I reckon I was a bit jealous, ‘specially at the thought of you and George spending so much time with each other. Would rather it be me, you know, sitting at the shop and laughing with you all night… taking you out for dinner… loving you.” Another gentle kiss was placed to your chest, just before he looked up to meet your eyes. The soft, warm, familiar sight made you feel at ease. He was back to being your Fred, the one you missed all along.

“Darling, you have nothing to be jealous about.” You promised, smiling as he placed a quick peck on your lips. “Though, if it means we get to have brilliant sex like that, by all means do what you have to do.” You explained. “Bloody brilliant, at that.” Without any further words, the two of you descended into a fit of laughter and the clouds that previously hung above your head seemingly cleared in an instant, easily proving to him there was really never a need to worry at all.

[tsukii0002]

Imagine Solomon and Mc doing magic stuff in the demon lords castle and Solomon turns mc into a rat on accident, how do you think Barbatos will react and what he would do after he learns it's Mc from Solomon 👀

This is pure gold, I love it.

Well, Solomon decided to make a beverage, as usual and Mc, decided that who is afraid to die should not be born and played the guinea pig, as usual. All this had taken place in the demon lord castle, because what could go wrong? But as expected, it went wrong, and an explosion of smoke covered the room.

Solomon ?: “Mc? are you okay???”

Mc ?: “?? Solomon?”

Suddenly there is a high-pitched squeal of surprise, two little rats stare at each other with wild eyes.

Rat Solomon: "Don't panic Mc, I will find the solution, besides we are in the palace nothing will happen to us, being a rat is not that bad"

Rat Mc: "That's the problem Solomon!!, we're in the palace, do you know what that means?"

Rat Solomon: "Wh-"

The door suddenly opens and they both turn their heads to meet the demon that shall not be named.

Barbatos: *pale as milk*

Rat Mc: *making little gestures trying to explain their situation*

Rat Solomon: *laughing rat noises*

Barbatos: *slowly raising a broom*

Rat Mc: … “Solomon”

Rat Solomon: *still laughing* "What?"

Rat Mc: “I think we should run.”

Rat Solomon: “Wa- Why?”

Barbatos: *most terrifying look they've ever seen*

Rat Solomon and Rat Mc: AHHHHHH!!!!

For an interminable time Mc and Solomon were running away from Barbatos, who was torn between fainting in terror or setting the palace on fire. Mc realized they had reached the kitchen and separated from Solomon.

Rat Solomon: “Mc noooo, don't leave me alone!”

Barbatos: Your end has come vile creature.

Crak

Rat Solomon: !

Barbatos: ! *turning to see what had happened*

Rat Mc: *gesturing to get the demon's attention*

Barbatos: *grim look* You *approaching with broom in hand* What-?

Barbatos sees a message written in salt on the counter, where Mc had broken the canister.

Barbatos: An experiment went wrong and we became this, we are Mc and Solomon…?

Rat Mc: *nodding vigorously fearing for their life*

Barbatos: Why… *paling some more* Why of all possible creatures?

Rat Mc: *apologetic chirp*

Rat Solomon: *climbing up next to Mc* “Well done Mc, for a moment there I thought you had betrayed me, he, he, he.”

Rat Mc: “This is no time for that!”

Barbatos: *with a look of total disgust he grabs Solomon tightly*

Rat Solomon: *shrieks* "I can't breathe!"

Barbatos: *holding out his hand gently but in cold sweats to Mc* You owe me a very big favor for all of this….

Chills run all over the demon's body as he looks at the two humans, he's about to get dizzy.

Barbatos: A very big one…

Later that day

Mc: Sorry, I'm so sorry Barbatos.

Barbatos: *grinning darkly* It doesn't matter Mc, just make sure you don't get so careless again.

Mc: *looking away* I won't.

Barbatos: I hope so or you'll end up like him.

Solomon, still being a rat, is stuck in a maze fighting for his life against a crab.

Barbatos: *grinning look* I hope that teaches him a lesson.

Mc: *swallowing saliva* Good luck Solomon.

.

.

This is the perfect opportunity for Barbatos to get “revenge” on Solomon without him being able to say anything to him xd.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading <3

[numinousher]

TOUCH ── sylus.

summary: touches with whispered promises

note: thank you again for helping me @an-ever-angry-bi

“I’m mad at you.”

Words have never scared Sylus more than those words uttered by the love of his life that has his heart in her hand.

His face maintained stoic, not wanting her to hear the way his heart skipped at the words and the way his head immediately recounted his whole entire day to try to determine what he did or said wrong.

“For what, sweetie?” He softly asked, leaning back on the chair of his office. His eyes ran over your figure, admiring your pretty pouty face and the way your brows were furrowed so cutely while you wore a necklace he bought you for your anniversary. He patted his lap. “Come here and tell me.”

You walked to him with a small huff and plopped on his lap.

“I'm a very independent woman,” you said in a very serious tone.

“I know, sweetheart, and I love that for you.”

“I can fight.”

“Nothing turns me on more than you defending yourself,” Sylus continues to comment in a low tone, his fingers softly running up and down your arm while he doesn't stray away from your side profile.

“I can shoot someone.”

“I told you I can get a gun engraved with our names on them, sweetie,” he says, his lips softly brushing your neck, placing small kisses.

“And I can be by myself.”

“Sadly.”

“So, why the hell do I yearn for your single presence and touch when I haven’t seen you in hours?” You groaned out, subconsciously craning your neck as he grabs your waist. “Not even that, I get upset when you don’t respond for two hours. Two!”

He darkly chuckles. “It seems this kitty who loves baring her fangs loves being coddled, hmm?” His nose brushes against the pulse of your neck, softly inhaling your scent. “You want me to text you more often?”

“Please?”

“Whatever you want,” he muttered on your neck. “I hope you know, though, the way you’re so… independent, so badass that you can handle yourself, so headstrong…” his lips moved close to the shell of your ear as his words turned whispered. “The things you do to me.”

“You really like that about me?”

“If you were to stab me, I would stab myself deeper into the blade to meet your fingertips holding the handle,” he whispered as if he was sharing a secret, his glistening ruby colored eyes meeting yours. “My body yearns for your touch that I wouldn’t care about dying at your hands. I’ll die happy just getting to brush against your skin.”

You let out a shuddered breath as his lips hovered over yours. He nudged his nose against your own, glancing at your lips.

“You’re crazy…” you commented with no malice at all.

He smiled a little. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“How so?” He continued to speak in a low tone. “Because I would let you kill me? Because I would get on my knees to worship you like you deserve to? Call me crazy all you want, sweetie, I just want you in ways you don’t know.”

He presses his lips against yours, savoring your taste with a soft moan, relishing in the way your body felt underneath his fingertips.

He backed away and looked into your eyes again with dilated pupils.

“Anything happens to you,” he started, his hand placing itself on your cheek so the pad of his thumb could rub itself over your bottom lip, “I will set this stupid world on fire, you hear me?” You slowly nod. “Ask me for whatever, ask me for anything you want, I will gladly do anything because if I can set this world on fire for you, I will do anything you want before you could breathe. You want me to text you more? Done. Want to go on more dates? I will personally buy every restaurant with your favorite food so you could enjoy it without disturbance. That’s fine with you?”

“Yes… thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Ask me for the moon, stars, anything, it’s yours,” he tilted his head to the side with a small smile you couldn’t help but smile, too. “It’s called the bare minimum, sweetie.”

“Sy, that is not—” he cuts you off with a chuckle, his fingers moving from your bottom lip to your neck.

“Bare minimum. Never thank me for being the boyfriend you deserve,” he softly spoke, pressing soft kisses on your lips. He savored each one. “Now come on. Let’s go on a trip.”

“It’s 10 at night?” You questioned, almost perplexed

“You should be getting used to unexpected trips, sweetie,” he chuckled, helping you get up. He got up next, hovering over your figure. He rubbed your cheekbone softly. “Can’t have people thinking I can’t treat my girl right, hmm?”

“God, I’m in love with you.”

“And I’m in love with you,” he kisses you once again. “Come on. The jet should be ready. Don’t worry about clothes. I’ll buy you anything you want once we get there.”

“Ugh, you’re so hot.”

“Mmm, compliment me more, sweetie, we might do some things in the jet.”

[deansbeer]

★ fragile as lace, bound in leather // dean winchester.

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

synopsis. you and dean share one final night together, tangled in desperate love and heartbreak. he believes he's no good for you, but letting go feels like tearing your soul apart.

warning(s). angst | smut | p in v (stay safe out there n wrap ur shit) heartbreak | emotional turmoil | doomed relationship | self-loathing | internalization of guilt | emotional vulnerability | depictions of crying during sex (?) | lingering pain of goodbye.

kari yaps. leather and lace by stevie nicks is to blame for this … but !!! i wanted it to be angsty & i haven't written smut in what feels like forever (it's so ass) so yeah <33

the motel room feels like a tomb. the heater rattles in the corner, failing to warm the stale air. it's cold, but not in the way that bites at your skin. no, this chill is deeper—buried in your chest, spreading into every hollow part of you that dean once filled.

he sits on the edge of the bed, his boots still on, his head hung low. the soft light of the bedside lamp casts shadows over his face, making him look older, wearier. his shoulders are tense, his hands clasped tightly between his knees. he hasn't said much, but he doesn't need to. you've known this was coming for weeks now, maybe longer.

"so that's it?" your voice is barely above a whisper, but the words feel like they echo in the room.

he doesn't look at you. his jaw clenches, his fingers twitching like he wants to reach for something—maybe you, maybe the door.

"yeah," he says finally, his voice rough, raw, like it's been scraped across gravel.

the words hit you like a punch, even though you've been bracing for them. still, they knock the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping as you stand there by the window, your fingers wrapped around the edge of the curtain so tightly your knuckles ache.

"why?" you press, your voice shaking. even though you already know the answer.

he exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face. "you know why."

"do i?" you fire back, stepping toward him. "because all i see is you giving up. on me. on us."

that gets him. his head snaps up at that, his green eyes locking onto yours. there's anger there, frustration, but underneath it, you see the pain—the same pain that's been eating away at you for months.

"don't do that, baby," he says finally, his voice low and sharp. "don't act like this is all on me. like this… you and me.. hasn't been falling apart for a long time."

"it doesn't have to," you insist, taking another step toward him. "we can fix it. we can—"

"no, we can't,” he cuts you off, standing abruptly. the sudden movement makes you flinch, but it's not fear—it's heartbreak. "we were doomed from the start."

the words are brutal, but the way his voice cracks betrays him. this isn't what he wants, you know that. but it doesn't make it hurt any less.

"no," you whisper, tears blurring your vision. "don't you dare say that."

he takes a step closer, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "you deserve better than this," he uttered, his voice breaking. "better than me. i'm no good for you. all i do is hurt people… drag them down. and you? you're… you're everything good in this world. and i can't ruin that."

his words hit you harder than any goodbye. they cut deep, carving out the parts of you that still believed in this, in him.

"i don't care about what i deserve," you say, trying to hold back the tears threatening to escape. "i care about you. i love you, dean. isn't that enough?"

he closes his eyes like he can't bear to look at you anymore. "it's not," he says quietly, and the finality in his tone shatters something inside you.

you take another final step toward him, your hands trembling as they reach out to him. "please," you whimper, your voice barely audible. "don’t leave me."

for a moment, he doesn't move. and then, suddenly, he's on you—his hands cupping your face, his lips crashing into yours with a desperation that steals the air from your lungs.

it's not a gentle kiss. it's messy, frantic, filled with all the things he can't bring himself to say. his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as if he can press himself into you, leave a piece of himself behind.

you clutch at his flannel, your tears mixing with the kiss as you pour every ounce of your love, your pain, your longing into it.

"dean," you gasp against his lips, your hands fumbling with his flannel, hastily shrugging it off of his shoulders.

"shh," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin as his lips trail down to your neck. "don't talk. just... let me—"

he doesn't finish the sentence, but you know what he means. let him have this. let him have you, one last time, before everything falls apart.

his hands are everywhere—sliding under your shirt, gripping your hips, pulling you against him like he's afraid you'll disappear. you can feel the heat of his body through the layers of fabric, the way his heart pounds in his chest, and it makes you ache in a way that feels unbearable.

you tug at the hem of his shirt, your fingers shaking as you pull it up his torso. he shrugs it off, his lips right away latching back onto your skin as he backs you toward the bed.

when the back of your knees hit the mattress, he lifts you by the back of your thighs like you weigh nothing, laying you down gently even as his movements remain hurried, frantic. he pulls your shirt over your head, his hands sliding over your bare skin like he's trying to memorize every curve, every inch of you.

"god, you're beautiful, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice rough as his lips trail down your collarbone, to your chest.

you arch into him, your hands tangling in his hair as you let yourself drown in the sensation of him. his lips, his hands, his weight pressing you into the mattress—it's almost enough to make you forget the agony waiting on the other side of this moment.

he undoes your jeans, his fingers brushing against your skin as he slides them down. you feel exposed, vulnerable, but the way he looks at you—like you're the only thing that matters—makes you forget your insecurities.

"baby," your bottom lip wobbled, as your hands move to the waistband of his jeans.

he helps you, kicking them off along with his boxers before settling between your thighs. his skin is warm against yours, his body solid and grounding in a way that makes you feel like you're floating.

when he finally pushes into you, it's slow, unhurried, like he's savoring every second. you gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as he fills you completely, the stretch and the heat overwhelming.

"look at me," he whispers, his forehead pressed against yours. "please."

you open your eyes, meeting his gaze. his green eyes are dark, filled with so much emotion it makes your chest ache. love, regret, longing—it's all there, written in the way he looks at you like he's trying to etch this moment into his memory.

he moves slowly at first, his hips rolling against yours in a rhythm that feels almost torturous. every thrust, every brush of his skin against yours feels like a goodbye, and it makes your heart shatter all over again.

"i love you," you voice, as tears spill down your cheeks.

he presses a gentle kiss to your lips, his movements faltering for a moment as he whispers against your mouth, "i love you too. more than you'll ever fucking know."

the words undo you. you cling to him, your nails digging into his back as your sobs shake your body. he doesn't stop—he holds you tighter, moves deeper, like he's trying to put you back together even as he's breaking you apart.

your release builds slowly, the pleasure mixing with the pain until you can't tell where one ends and the other begins. when it finally crashes over you, it's overwhelming, your body trembling as you cry out his name.

he follows soon after, his movements growing erratic before he stills above you, his face buried in your neck as he lets out a low, broken groan.

the room is silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing, your heartbeats pounding in unison. he doesn't move, his weight pressing you into the mattress as his arms wrap around you like he's trying to keep you from slipping away.

"please don’t leave," you whisper in his ear.

he doesn't say anything. he just presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulls away.

you want to stop him, to beg him to stay, but your body is too heavy, your heart too broken. you watch in silence as he gets dressed, his movements unrushed, like he's trying to draw it out.

when he's done, he looks at you one last time, his eyes filled with so much sadness it makes your chest ache.

"i'm so sorry," he tells you, his voice wavering.

and then he's gone.

you don't know how long you lie there, staring at the empty space where he used to be. the room is cold, the sheets still smelling like him, and the ache in your chest feels too much to bear.

you were the lace, and he was the leather. and no matter how tightly you'd tried to weave yourselves together, you were always destined to come apart.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

I have an idea! Reader and James have to share a bed. They have no problem with it but they didn't know that they couldn't keep their hands to themselves (not in a sexual way) but they could wake up in the middle of the night finding the other one cuddled up to them haha ​​something sweet and tender

just friends..? totally

james potter x reader where you both share a bed and oh..what? why are you cuddling?

↬ word count : 452 words ˎˊ˗

↬ warnings : fluff overload, mutual pining but they’re oblivious, just friends (but are they?)

↬ author's note : thank you so much for requesting this! i had so much fun writing it—james being a sleepy cuddlebug is my weakness <3

navigation┆ james potter masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. James had been utterly convincing, saying, “Angel, it’s just one night, yeah? I’ll even give you the good pillow.” He grinned as he tossed the fluffiest pillow onto the bed.

And really, sharing a bed with James Potter didn’t sound like a bad deal. He was warm, smelled like something fresh and woodsy, and had a knack for making you feel completely at ease. You were just friends, after all. What could go wrong?

The answer, apparently, was everything.

You’d fallen asleep easily enough, facing opposite sides of the bed. But by the time the first rays of dawn were filtering through the curtains, the peaceful arrangement had turned into something else entirely.

Your eyes fluttered open, and there he was. James Potter, Quidditch star, Marauder extraordinaire, and general menace, was tucked against your side, his arm thrown across your waist as if it had always belonged there. His face was smushed into your shoulder and his hair an even bigger mess than usual.

The kicker? You weren’t much better. Your own arm was tangled in his messy curls, your fingers lazily brushing his scalp as if in a half-conscious daze. It was… comfortable. Too comfortable.

James stirred, mumbling something incoherent. His eyes opened slightly, squinting at you. His face softened into a dopey smile. “Mornin’, angel,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

You froze. “James,” you whispered urgently, “what are you doing?”

“Dunno,” he muttered, burying his face back into your shoulder. “You’re really warm, though.”

Before you could argue—or even process the fact that he was still calling you angel—the curtains opened.

“What on Earth is this?!” Sirius's voice rang out, dripping with theatrical disbelief.

You bolted upright—or tried to. James didn’t budge, clinging to you like a human octopus.

“Are we interrupting something?” Remus asked, leaning casually against the doorframe, his lips twitching with amusement.

Peter, standing behind the two, blinked at the scene and muttered, “I knew it. Always thought you two were… cozy.”

You were pretty sure your face was on fire. “We’re not— It’s not—!”

“Oh, obviously not,” Sirius interrupted, his smirk widening. “This is just how all ‘just friends’ sleep. Isn’t that right, Prongs?”

James finally stirred, glancing blearily at the others. Instead of moving away, though, he just tightened his hold on you, resting his chin on your shoulder. “What’re you lot doing in here? S’early.”

“It’s noon, James,” Remus deadpanned.

Sirius pointed at the two of you. “We’re here because this is the best thing I’ve seen all week. You two are disgustingly adorable. Also, doll, you have terrible taste.”

“I don’t even—” you spluttered.

James, still blissfully unbothered, just shrugged, giving you a lazy grin. “C’mon, angel. Tell them how much you secretly adore me.”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!”

The room erupted in laughter, Sirius and Peter doubling over while Remus shook his head fondly. James eventually let go, but not before giving your waist a cheeky squeeze and murmuring, “You’re pretty cuddly, y’know.”

You threw a pillow at his face.

And despite the teasing, the laughter, and the absolute mortification, you couldn’t help the warmth blooming in your chest.

Just friends, huh?

[megumismyhusband]

Heyo! Just saw your recent post and could u kindly do sassy blue lock men and a sassier s/o 🥺 imagine them just bantering 24/7

heloo!! i love this request oh em gee😖 also if u want more don’t be afraid to ask!!!

Isagi Yoichi

You sat across from Isagi at a café, both sipping your drinks. He looked up, eyebrows raised, as you scrolled through your phone.

“You’re not even paying attention to me,” he said, mock-offended.

“Maybe because you’re not interesting,” you replied without missing a beat.

“Excuse me? I’m literally the most interesting person you know.”

“You think ‘Yoichi Isagi, professional soccer player’ is a personality?” you shot back, smirking.

He gawked at you, then leaned back in his chair with a dramatic sigh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet here you are, sitting with me instead of practicing.”

“Okay, you win this one,” he muttered, hiding his grin behind his coffee cup.

“Like I ever lose,” you teased, sticking out your tongue.

Itoshi Rin

“You know, for someone who says they hate distractions, you sure let me ruin your focus all the time,” you said, leaning casually against the wall of Rin’s training room.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Rin replied, not even looking up as he wiped sweat off his brow. “You’re more like… background noise.”

“Wow, it must be exhausting being this delusional,” you said with a mock-pitying tone.

He finally looked at you, eyes narrowed. “You’re the one who barged in here just to talk. What does that say about you?”

“That you secretly enjoy my company but are too emotionally stunted to admit it,” you replied with a grin.

Rin stared at you for a moment, then clicked his tongue. “You’re so annoying.”

“And you’re so predictable,” you shot back. “Now hurry up. I’m bored, and you owe me dinner.”

Nagi Seishiro

You were trying to tidy up the living room when you tripped over something—Nagi’s ridiculously long limbs, sprawled across the floor as he napped.

“Seishiro!” you shouted, poking him with your foot.

“Hm? What?” he mumbled, barely opening his eyes.

“You’re literally in the middle of the room! Why are you like this?”

“It’s comfy,” he said, turning onto his side. “Why are you yelling so much? You’re so noisy.”

“You’re so lazy!” you retorted, picking up a pillow and tossing it at him.

He caught it effortlessly, smirking. “Lazy, but still better at everything than you.”

“Oh, really? Try being better at cleaning.”

“Pass.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, plopping down beside him.

“And yet, you’re still here,” he teased, reaching over to tug you closer.

Chigiri Hyoma

Chigiri sat in front of the mirror, meticulously braiding his hair while you watched from the bed.

“You spend more time in front of that mirror than I do in a day,” you quipped, lying back with your hands behind your head.

“And it shows,” he fired back without missing a beat.

You gasped, sitting up. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Your hair’s always a mess. Just saying,” he said with a smirk, glancing at you in the mirror.

“At least I don’t cry if the wind ruins my ponytail,” you shot back, grinning.

“That happened once,” he snapped, turning to face you.

“And I’ll never let you live it down,” you said, sticking out your tongue.

“Fine. But don’t ask me to braid your hair ever again,” he huffed, turning back to the mirror.

“Please, you’ll do it anyway. You can’t resist my charm.”

“Debatable,” he muttered, though his smirk betrayed him.

Kunigami Rensuke

You stood in the kitchen, staring down Kunigami as he tried to help you cook. He was currently holding a knife completely wrong.

“That’s not how you chop an onion,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“Does it matter? It’s getting chopped,” he replied, slicing unevenly.

“Yes, it matters! Are you trying to lose a finger?”

He stopped, looking at you. “Relax. I’ve been through worse on the field.”

“And yet, here you are, losing to an onion,” you teased.

Kunigami groaned but handed you the knife. “Fine. Show me how it’s done, Master Chef.”

You grabbed the knife and quickly chopped the onion into perfect pieces. “See? It’s not that hard.”

He watched, arms crossed, before muttering, “Show-off.”

“Admit it. You’d starve without me.”

“Maybe,” he said with a sly grin. “But I could live off takeout just to prove you wrong.”

Bachira Meguru

“Bet you can’t score on me,” Bachira said, holding a soccer ball and grinning mischievously.

“Bet I can,” you shot back, hands on your hips.

“You? Miss ‘I trip over air’? Okay, try.”

You glared at him but took the ball, dribbling it toward the makeshift goal. He blocked every attempt, laughing like a maniac the whole time.

“You’re so bad at this!” he teased, dancing away with the ball.

“At least I don’t look like a hyperactive squirrel on the field,” you snapped, smirking.

“Sassy! I like it,” he said, tossing the ball aside and pulling you into a hug. “But you still lost.”

“Only because you cheat,” you grumbled, burying your face in his chest.

“And you still love me!” he said, spinning you around.

“Unfortunately,” you muttered, but your smile gave you away.

[eideticboywonder]

─── ̩̩͙✩ sweet like honey, part ii ; steve harrington

summary ─ all it took was a smile from you to bring steve harrington to his knees. now he’s on the mission of a lifetime to find your name.

pairing ─ fem!reader x steve harrington

warning(s) ─ use of she/her pronouns, lovestruck steve, they’re so sweet i want to vomit

word count ─ 2,712

author’s note : so… it took an embarrassingly long time to get this out but here it finally is! i realized a big issue was trying to fit too much in one part so i’ve decided to break it up. there will be a part three, hopefully released way sooner than this one lol. thanks again to those who enjoyed part one, i hope you like this one, too!

─ ♡ amy

read part one here ❤️

The night you left him in the lobby of Scoops, that smitten smile stitched to his face, sleep eluded him. The kind of exhilaration only felt in adolescence coursed through him; the impatient excitement over going back to work the next morning because it’d mean seeing you, hearing that voice laced with saccharine so silky it was as if you were serenading him with every word. Steve replayed your conversation on a loop, focusing on the minute details of it— the slight dimple in your right cheek that appeared each time you smiled at him, the genuine interest that shone in your eyes when he talked, the way his skin tingled under the briefest of touches.

It was a complete enigma as to exactly why a whole body reaction was induced every time he so much as thought of you, never mind the floodgates of nerves that opened when you actually interacted. The mystery did not lie within who you were, but the fact that Steve was having these feelings in the first place.

He was always the one in control, never reduced to a puddle by a simple look or made to stumble over his words. He didn’t spend hours after talking to a girl poring over every word, nerves as every bit on fire as they were in the moment.

The thing was, though, Steve didn’t much care about the why. The one thing he did know was he wanted to hold onto this feeling as long as you allowed it.

For once, the blaring of his morning alarm was not only anticipated, but a welcome relief. Steve took extra care in getting ready that day, making sure his hair did “the thing”, picking out just the right cologne he thought you’d like best based on your own fragrance choices. If only he wasn’t condemned to that asinine navy costume.

In truth, he hadn’t thought it would be very difficult at all to obtain your identity— this was Hawkins, everyone knew everyone.

Steve’s first course of action was a simple one: take a quick walk to the theater on his break and try to catch a glimpse of your name tag, or ask one of your coworkers if you weren’t there.

How hard could it be?

His eyes are a magnet to you at this point, easily catching you kneeling before the candy display located within the velvet ropes of the designated line to the concessions counter, restocking the assortment of sweets. For a second, the purpose of his visit evades him, bewitched once again by the sight of you.

Feeling eyes on you, you turn, and upon seeing him, give a smile that infected his entire being. An almost involuntary one of his own pulls at his lips, unknowingly releasing a flurry of butterflies into your stomach; god, he is so beautiful. The butterflies in your stomach flutter frantically when he walks up to you and offers his hand to assist you in standing. Your fingers slot into his instinctively, fitting together so perfectly a warmth blooms from the touch. Even as you rise and no longer need the support, you both find it difficult to let go.

You try to ignore the disappointment when his hand slips from yours— luckily, the dizziness of being close enough to smell his amber cologne, to see the golden brown embers of his eyes, drowns everything else in an instant.

The sound of your own voice slips out before you realize what you’re saying. “One conversation and suddenly the stalker is comfortable enough to approach me at work.”

“I’m just here for the popcorn, running into you is a complete coincidence.” Steve shrugs casually, hoping he’s successful in concealing just how much he's been not so patiently anticipating this meeting.

“Right.” You cross your arms across your chest, raising a brow as you fix him with a look of sarcastic disbelief matching your tone. “So, your being here has absolutely nothing to do with you hoping you could just walk over here and get my name, just like that?”

“Of course not,” he scoffed, trying (and miserably failing) to appear nonchalant; you find it insanely cute, your gaze filling with more adoration by the second. This act is made even less convincing when he tries to lean on the velvet rope, which obviously was not strong enough to support someone of his build, and begins to fold beneath the weight. You can’t stop the quiet giggle you attempt to stifle with your hand as you watch him hurriedly fumble to straighten back up, face flushing fiercely, and go on as if nothing had happened— you choose to show mercy and let him. “‘Cause that would just be too easy… right?”

You donned an expression of fake sympathy and nodded. “Unfortunately for you, Steve, you would be correct. Everyone here is under the express orders to keep their mouths shut.”

“I think you mean ‘unfortunately for us both’, sweetness.” The pet name slips out without thought, a slight panic building within Steve as he assesses your reaction to it. Meanwhile, it’s as if someone has set off fireworks in your chest, your grin widening and the blush dusting your luminous face deepening just so. Your apparent approval noted and his confidence boosted, he continues. “See, as long as it takes me to do this, you also have to wait for me.”

You clutch your chest dramatically. “And what a tragedy that is, Harrington.”

His brows arch at that, the smile that seems to be permanent in your presence taking an air of teasing. “Oh, so you get to know my full name and I can’t even get a hint of yours?”

The rose in your cheeks intensifies with the realization of what you’d let slip, hoping he doesn't notice as you continue— he totally does, by the way, and finds it absolutely adorable. “In my defense, you do have a bit of a reputation, ‘King Steve’. There are benefits to being anonymous, I guess.”

Steve can only imagine what you meant by the “reputation” associated with that moniker, and none of it was good. The partying, the level of (for the lack of a better word) douchiness, he’d put on to maintain his relationships with people like Tommy and Carol, and the popularity that came with it. Not to mention his dating history. A seed of worry begins to plant itself in the back of his mind, watered by his insecurity— was this why you didn’t tell him your name? Did you think he was still that guy?

As much as the boy tries to conceal it by keeping the aloof grin up, you see the panic flash in the hazel of his eyes, thinking quickly to stop it from heightening any further. “Besides, I kinda like that name you gave me. I’m almost tempted to call this whole thing off just so you’ll keep calling me that.”

Your attempt works, evident by the bashful brightness creeping back into his features. “Does that mean I win this little stalker competition you’ve got going on?”

Your heart flutters pleasantly as he subtly leans closer, the sandalwood of his cologne threatening to overtake your senses. Thankfully, you manage to gather enough brain cells to string the right words together and form a cognitive response. “I’ll have to confer with the other judges and get back to you on that. At the very least, we might be able to award you some bonus points.”

”And who exactly are these other judges?”

“You know I can’t tell you that, in the interest of keeping things fair.”

Steve groans dramatically and shakes his head, that charming smile putting you on the verge of swooning. “You’re killing me, you know that?”

There it is again— your laugh, so genuine and light. He’s made women laugh plenty of times before, but most often it was obviously that thing people do where they fake laugh at all of one's jokes while flirting to appeal to their ego. Yours, on the other hand, makes Steve feel like he’s sitting in front of the fireplace with the softest blanket wrapped around him on a snow fallen day each time he hears it. He adores the way your nose scrunches slightly.

“Yo, Jamie Lee!” A voice breaks the spell, forcing your surroundings to be brought back into focus.

You look in the direction of the sound to find Oliver, one of your closest friends, leaning out the door of Theater One behind Steve, that trademark glint of mischief in his eyes as a smirk plays on his lips. Of course, he knew exactly who Steve was and the context of the challenge you’d given him regarding your identity— and you knew him, he definitely would at least be tempted to mess with you. You shoot your best death glare of warning in his direction, which Oliver pointedly ignores, unphased.

Distracted, you don’t notice Steve’s self doubt trickle back into his mind. He recognizes Oliver from your late night ice cream run to the supermarket the week before, and, similar to that night, reminds himself he has absolutely no reason to be jealous of the apparent closeness you share with him. It’s not a malicious or possessive jealousy, more so a kind of sadness over the time he’s had with you while Steve didn’t even know you existed until a few weeks ago.

“Tell your stalker he'll have to come back later. There’s been a popcorn explosion in row C and some major slushy spillage in the back, and since you lost—”

“Yeah, yeah, save the gloating, Oliver.” You flip him off playfully with one hand and make a shooing motion with the other. “I’ll be right there.”

“Don’t take too long,” Oliver winks suggestively, making you roll your eyes. “The next showing is in 20 minutes.”

Steve quirks a brow, prodding you to explain further as you squat to finish the last few bags of candy. You flush with a pleasant surprise when he drops down to help without a word. “It’s a silly story involving boredom while closing together Friday, and a bet to see who could finish their jobs first. I lost, so I have to clean the big messes for a week. So thanks to Oliver, it seems you get to live to stalk me another day.” Display restocked, Steve rises and extends a hand, and fleeting as it may be, the gentle squeeze he gives yours sends a shiver down each of your bodies. The effects of it linger as you even as you start toward the theater and let go. “Thanks. I guess, I’ll, uh, see you around, Harrington.”

“Until next time, sweetness.” The name falls out before he can stop himself for the second time, worry pricking at the hairs on the back of his neck.

But then you beam at him, the pink in your cheeks warming in the sweetest way, and the churning of anxiety is swiftly replaced with butterflies. “Looking forward to it.”

Needless to say, Robin was sufficiently creeped out by his significantly boosted mood which lasted the rest of the day.

Steve’s next brilliant idea was to look in his yearbook. He now had each divine detail of your perfect face etched into his memory, it would obviously take no time at all to find it amongst the quite small graduating class of Hawkins High. All that would be left is to read the name conveniently printed below the picture. Easy, right? Again, could not be more wrong.

To start, he had no idea where the damn thing even was. Keeping track of things was not exactly a mastered skill of Steve’s. Maybe that had something to do with this “be more responsible” kick his parents had been forcing onto him as of late.

It took him almost two whole days to find it, and for Steve, those two days felt like agonizing weeks.

As fate would have it, the Harrington boy had those two days off from work. Usually, he preferred not to be anywhere near that place on his days of freedom, and yet he still returned to Starcourt each afternoon under the guise of watching over the kids in hopes of talking to you again, but he came to the disappointing conclusion that you had a similar schedule. He even attempted salvaging these trips by trying to persuade your coworkers into revealing that small, yet seemingly impossible bit of information without you around. Much to Steve’s disappointment, you'd already accounted for this and sworn them all to secrecy in the vein of “not making it so easy”, so he came up empty.

Back on the yearbook track, Steve had torn apart every last inch of his room searching for it— multiple times, by the way— and still, nothing. Several other innocuous items were uncovered throughout this thorough hunt, such as forgotten homework and some of his dad’s old Playboys he’d stolen and hidden in his closet all the way back in middle school, but the one thing he actually needed to locate continued to evade him.

The next place to incur his desperate rummaging was his beemer, the only other logical option he could think of. No seat or corner of his trunk was left untouched, and still, no such luck. Just as the sky begins to shift into the blended watercolor of warm pinks and purples of the setting sun, Steve finally slams the trunk shut and turns to dejectedly lean back against it, racking his brain for anything he could try short of begging you for pity the next time he saw you. It felt as if there were some greater force somewhere actively willing him to fail.

Never in his life had he had to put this much effort into asking someone out, let alone getting her name. With each failed attempt so quickly followed by another, his disappointment grows, and for the briefest of moments, he allows the doubt to creep in. Maybe the universe was trying to tell him it just wasn’t meant to be— not because anything was wrong with you, but because he was the undeserving one.

He thought he’d found “the one” with Nancy last year, and it’s no secret how that ended, with her finally going to the person she was actually supposed to be with the whole time. Though admittedly, while he did love her, a lot of that stemmed from this romanticization of the high school sweethearts who live happily ever after passed onto him from a young age. He now knew it was never going to work out that way for them in the long run, neither of their hearts were fully in it. But still, theirs had been Steve’s first meaningful relationship, the only one to last more than a couple of casual weeks before he’d end it with them, and the loss of it cut deeply into his self confidence.

What would he even do if he did uncover your name in time? Surely, even if you did say yes to giving him a chance at the end of all this, he’d just end up doing something to screw it up. Maybe you’d be better off if he gave up now, before he had the chance to complicate everything.

But then, that alluring smile of yours, the goosebumps that pricked at his entire body whenever you touched him, the infectious brightness in your eyes each time you looked at him infiltrated his brain. As selfish of him as it may be, he knew he needed to try. Even if whatever you and he ended up building is temporary, you were worth it. That much he was confident about.

His morale refreshed, Steve is hit with a realization: he couldn’t find the damn yearbook because he didn’t have it.

Knowing he wasn’t that great at being organized, Dustin had taken it after graduation for “safekeeping and research purposes”. There was just one problem— Dustin was away at some nerdy science camp for three more weeks. No way was Steve waiting nearly a month for that kid to come back. Luckily, he knew of someone else who’d have a copy of the Hawkins High yearbook.

Nancy.

─── ̩̩͙✩

tags: @johnricharddeacy

[rose24207]

You don’t deserve her

Summary: Lando steps in to defend a waitress being cruelly humiliated and insulted by her boss, leading to her being fired, while Lando ensures she knows she deserves better.

Genre: angst, fluff

TW: reader is being bullied and public humiliated

A/N: let me know if you recognise the character Amy ;) English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

The restaurant was buzzing with Friday night energy, packed with diners enjoying warm meals and lively conversations. In the corner, a table of familiar faces was in the middle of a rare evening together: Lando, Charles, Alex, Carlos and Rebecca. They laughed between bites, enjoying the easy camaraderie and the chance to unwind.

“Carlos, you’ve outdone yourself,” Alex said, gesturing to her empty plate. “This place is fantastic.”

Rebecca nodded in agreement. “The food is great, and the vibe is perfect.”

“See?” Carlos said with a smug grin. “I know how to pick a good restaurant.”

Lando chuckled, but his focus wasn’t entirely on the table. His gaze kept drifting toward you—a waitress moving quickly between tables with a tray balanced on one hand. Your face was drawn in a tight smile, the kind that hid the exhaustion and tension in your shoulders.

“She looks stressed,” Alex said softly, following Lando’s gaze.

Before anyone could reply, a piercing shout cut through the restaurant.

“Are you out of your mind?”

The voice, shrill and furious, silenced the entire room. Every head turned toward the counter, where Amy, the restaurant’s owner, stood with her arms crossed and a look of pure venom directed at you.

You froze, holding a notepad in your hand, your face pale. “I just wanted to—”

“You just wanted to what?” Amy snapped, her voice rising even higher. “Waste more of my time? Make this restaurant look like a joke? Because that’s exactly what you’re doing!”

Lando stiffened in his seat, his eyes narrowing as he watched the scene unfold.

“What the hell is her problem?” Carlos muttered, his easygoing demeanor replaced with a frown.

“She’s unhinged,” Rebecca said under her breath.

Amy wasn’t done. She marched toward you, her heels clicking against the floor with purpose. “How hard is it to take an order? How hard is it to use your brain for once in your miserable life?”

“I—I just wanted to double-check the allergy order for Table 3,” you stammered, your voice barely audible.

Amy threw her hands in the air, her face contorted with rage. “Double-check? Oh, how thoughtful of you. Maybe if you weren’t so incompetent, you wouldn’t need to double-check anything! Do you realize how behind we are because of you? You’re a walking disaster!”

At their table, Alex’s jaw dropped. “She’s completely crazy.”

Charles nodded, his brow furrowed. “This is way out of line.”

Lando leaned forward, his fists clenched under the table. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Amy wasn’t slowing down. Her voice grew louder, her insults sharper with each word.

“You’re an embarrassment,” Amy spat, her face inches from yours. “I don’t even know why I keep you around. You can’t take orders without screwing them up, you can’t carry plates without tripping over your own feet, and you sure as hell can’t handle even the simplest tasks without turning it into a catastrophe!”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you kept your head down, refusing to let them fall.

“Do you have any idea how many complaints I get because of you?” Amy continued, her voice dripping with venom. “Customers hate you. They don’t want to deal with your pathetic attitude or your slow service. You’re lucky I don’t fire you on the spot!”

“That’s enough,” Lando muttered, pushing back his chair.

“Don’t,” Charles said quickly, grabbing Lando’s arm.

“She’s humiliating her in front of everyone,” Lando shot back, his voice tight with anger.

Meanwhile, Amy leaned closer to you, her voice dropping to a low, menacing hiss. “You’re not just bad at your job. You’re a failure. And if you think anyone else would hire you after this, you’re delusional.”

At that, Lando stood abruptly, striding toward the counter. “Hey!” he called out, his voice ringing across the room.

Amy turned, her eyes narrowing as she looked him up and down. “What do you want?”

“I want you to stop screaming at her,” Lando said, his tone calm but firm.

Amy crossed her arms. “And who the hell are you to tell me how to run my business?”

“I’m someone who knows how to treat people with respect,” Lando said, his gaze steady.

Amy scoffed. “Respect? Don’t make me laugh. This girl doesn’t deserve respect. She can’t even do her job properly!”

Lando stepped closer, his voice hardening. “She’s doing her best, and all you’re doing is tearing her down. You’re not helping anyone. You’re just a bully.”

Amy’s face flushed red with anger. “You think you know how hard it is to run a business? You think you have any idea what I go through to keep this place afloat? She’s lucky to even have a job here!”

“No,” Lando said sharply. “She’s not lucky. She’s surviving, in spite of you.”

Amy let out a bitter laugh. “You don’t know anything about her. She’s useless. She’s always been useless. And if you think she’s worth defending, you’re just as stupid as she is.”

The room was deathly silent, all eyes on Lando and Amy.

“Here’s what I know,” Lando said, his voice steady and measured. “She’s been running around all night, trying to keep up, while you stand here and yell at her. She’s probably the reason half your customers haven’t walked out already. And instead of thanking her, you’re humiliating her in front of everyone.”

Amy opened her mouth to reply, but Lando cut her off.

“You don’t deserve employees like her,” he said. “And if this is how you treat people, you don’t deserve a business, either.”

Amy glared at him, her chest heaving with fury. “Get out of my restaurant,” she snarled.

Lando turned to you, his expression softening. “Come on,” he said gently. “You don’t need to stay here.”

Your eyes widened. “I—I can’t just leave,” you stammered.

“Yes, you can,” Lando said, his voice firm but kind. “You don’t owe her anything.”

Amy let out another bitter laugh. “Go ahead, leave. But don’t think for a second that you’ll find another job after this. No one wants a whiny, incompetent little—”

“Enough,” Lando snapped, his voice ringing with authority.

You hesitated, glancing between Amy and Lando. Finally, you took a deep breath and nodded.

Lando placed a reassuring hand on your back, guiding you toward the door. As you walked away, the restaurant erupted into applause, a show of support from the other diners who had witnessed the ordeal.

Outside, you finally let the tears fall, your shoulders shaking as you leaned against the wall.

“Hey,” Lando said softly, stepping in front of you. “You’re okay now. She can’t hurt you anymore.”

You looked up at him, your voice trembling. “Why did you do that?”

“Because you deserve better,” Lando said simply.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Lando smiled back. “Anytime.”

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hxxi3, @same1995, @amatswimming

[mentally-ill-simp]

Trusting the RDR2 men to hold your drink

Tw: mentions of alcohol, mentions of Micah Bell

Arthur Morgan:You walked up to Arthur at the camp looking at him you were a bit tipsy but you really had to go off and pee and didn't want to leave your drink unattended "Arthurrr..could you do me the biggest favor" you slurred your words slightly and Arthur smiled softly at this thinking it was cute "sure what do you need" his southern accent thick and deep as he spoke you melted at the way he spoke "could you hold my drink for me?" You asked smiling wide knowing he would, the man took the drink from you "I can absolutely do that" he smiled holding the cup close to him like his life depended on it..he would protect it like it was a small child guarding it with his life until you came back.

John Marston: You stumbled over to John. "Marston!" You shout trying to get his attention he looks up from whatever he was doing "what do you want" he groans pretending to be annoyed but he did really like you "hold my drink I gotta go do something" you hand him your drink "why do you need me to hold your drink?" He asks confused still taking the drink anyway "so people don't touch it or put weird things in it" you look at him like it was obvious and at that he nods getting protective...he now had a mission and he was damned if he'd fail at it. He holds the drink waiting for you to get back glaring at anyone who even looked at the drink, at one point he forgot it wasn't his drink and he took a sip but when he realized he stopped. Would 100% gaslight you if you asked if he took a sip

Javier Escuella: The man sat by the fire with his guitar when you approached him "Javi could you do me a huge favor?" You ask him softly "anything mi amor just say the word and I'll do it" he smirked at you his playful flirting mixed with his thick accent was enough to make any person weak at the knees "could you hold my drink?" You asked him nicely, and he immediately grabs the drink from you, putting his hand over top of it. He sits there in silence, and if anyone comes up to him to ask about it, he'd start a string of Spanish swear words and insults (mainly Micah or Bill). He guarded that drink with his life until you came back to claim it

Lenny Summers: The poor boy is just trying to have some time to himself and read when you come up to him "Lenny my favorite friend in the whole entire world" you smile at him and he just looks up from his book knowing you need something "what is it" he looks at you and you laugh lightly "I really have to go to the bathroom could you watching my drink for me?" You ask him nicely, hoping he'd say yes. He sighs but agrees after a while. He's upset that he'd have to put his book down but also happy to help, he just sits at his tent the whole time hoping no one else would come up and ask him any other favors while he was doing this. After a while, you come back and thank him, and he just nods and goes back to reading his book

Charles Smith: You walked up to Charles, he was a bit intimidating due to his size but you knew him better "howdy Charles" you say with a small smile and the man gives you a small nod "could you possibly hold my drink for me?" You ask him wondering if he would,"of course I can, " he says softly, putting his hand out to take the drink from you. No one really goes up to him to try to test his patience, and if they do, he just glares at them. Your drink is very, very safe with Charles

Hosea Matthews: When you walk up to Hosea, he gives you a loving smile immediately. "How can I help?" He asks his voice soft and warm, you smile at his friendliness "Hosea would you mind holding my drink for a minute, please?" You ask him nicely, and he nods."Of course I can, " he smiles, taking the drink. He sets the drink down next to him, keeping his hand over the cup the whole time a book in one hand and his hand over the drink in the next until you get back

Kieran Duffy: When you walk up to Kieran he's all alone by himself hanging out with the horses "hey" you give him a small sweet smile and he jumps a little at your voice not knowing you were there "h-hey (y/n)" he says shyly "would you mind guarding my drink for a quick moment?" You ask him softly, and he nods. Of course, he would no one ever ask him to do anything around camp, and he just wants to be helpful. He makes sure to keep your drink really close, scared, anything might happen to it.. he just really does not want to mess this up. When you get back, you thank him so much. He is left feeling really good about himself afterward, like he helped someone out

Micah Bell: I'd rather die

Let me know if yall want me to make a RDR2 women trusting your drink fic after this, and thank you for reading :)

[moonmaiden1996]

How about Sanji x reader where he's holding back his moans (due to past toxic relationships)? Reader notices and tells him to stop holding back (because they love him and his voice), which results in a very passionate, feral night.

Sanji was always attentive—too attentive, really. Every brush of your skin, every little gasp or sigh, was treated like sacred music. He devoted himself wholly to your pleasure, ensuring every touch, every kiss, and every motion left you breathless. He made you sing and scream.

And you loved it. You loved him.

But tonight, something felt…off.

You were accustomed to keeping quiet on the ship, muffling the sounds of your pleasure to spare yourself the embarrassment of Luffy or Zoro barging in to “save” you—or worse, poor Chopper walking in and being utterly traumatized (you still felt bad about that one). But here, in your little hideaway on this island, there was no need for silence. Yet, Sanji held back.

His hands roamed your body with their usual tenderness, his lips leaving a trail of heat along your skin. But despite the fire burning between you, there was a restraint to him—a deliberate effort to stay quiet. Sure, you were used to him burying his face in your neck or a pillow during these moments, but here, what was stopping him?

His breathing hitched only slightly when your fingers tangled in his golden hair, and he bit his lip hard when you arched against him.

“Sanji,” you murmured, your voice soft but firm as you cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. His ocean-blue eyes flickered with worry.

“What is it, love? Did I hurt you?” he asked quickly, concern lacing his voice.

You shook your head, brushing a thumb over his flushed cheek. “No, you didn’t. But…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Why are you holding back? Why won’t you let me hear you?”

His brows furrowed, and for a moment, he looked away, shame creeping into his expression. “I… It’s nothing,” he tried to dismiss, but the crack in his voice betrayed him.

You didn’t let him hide. “Sanji, it’s not nothing. Please, talk to me.”

He sighed deeply, his hands stilling on your hips. “It’s just… In the past, the people I’ve been with—they said it was too much. That I was too loud, too…emotional.” His voice dropped, his vulnerability laid bare. “I guess I got used to holding it in. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Your heart ached at his words. How could anyone make him feel like this? “Sanji,” you whispered, your tone unwavering, “I love your voice. I love you. Please don’t hold back with me. I want to hear everything—every sound, every gasp, every moan. I want to know how much you feel.”

His eyes widened, his lips parting as if to protest, but you silenced him with a kiss. It was slow and deep, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer. He melted into you, his body trembling as he finally let go of the walls he’d built.

When he pulled back, his breathing was ragged, his eyes dark with desire. “You really mean that?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, brushing your lips against his ear. “Show me.”

And oh, did he.

The floodgates opened, and Sanji let himself feel. Every kiss, every thrust, every touch was accompanied by unrestrained, guttural sounds that sent shivers down your spine. His moans were raw and beautiful, a symphony of passion that echoed through the room.

He whispered your name like a prayer, his voice breaking as he poured every ounce of his love and desire into you. The way he trembled beneath your touch, the way he called out when you tightened around him—it was intoxicating. For the first time, Sanji wasn’t holding back, and it made the connection between you even more electric.

“Mon amour,” he gasped, his hands gripping your hips as he lost himself in you. “You’re… incredible. I—ah!”

You leaned down, pressing your forehead against his as you whispered, “Don’t stop, Sanji. I want to hear all of it.”

Your words were his undoing. The night became a blur of tangled limbs, heated whispers, and unrestrained cries of pleasure. Sanji, your Sanji, was finally free, and the passion between you burned brighter than ever before. This man does not stop till he is completely spent, he is too lost in actually feeling and he wants to feel every single thing. 

Afterward, as you lay wrapped in his arms, his lips brushed against your temple. “Thank you,” he murmured softly.

“For what?” you asked, tracing lazy circles on his chest, you arch but could not find the power to care.

“For loving me the way you do. For letting me be myself,” he said, his voice warm and tender.

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Always.”

And as Sanji held you close, his heart beating steadily beneath your cheek, you knew you’d never let him hold back again.

This was such good one to write. If you like that please have a look at some of the other ask I have answered.

If you have an ask please send it through! No matter the character, cuteness or filthiness of it! If you want to read something explicitly let me know!

[hungermakesmonsters]

The Red Ribbon

Chapter Four

Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour and puke mentions. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 7.6k

A/N : and here it is, the end... or is it? (yes, yes it is, no more cliffhangers, honest)

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE

Master List

Chapter Four

It all happened faster than you could think. You moved with a speed you never knew that you possessed, pushing him away with a strength that, in the moment, felt superhuman.

You heard the startled oof as he hit the floor, but you were already halfway to the door before he found his voice and managed to call after you, demanding that you wait, that you stop.

You didn’t stop.

You couldn’t stop.

You felt sick and you needed to get out, your hands desperately pulled your clothes and mask back into place as you tumbled through the door. Turning, you slammed into the solid shape of Rocky and felt his hands on your arms. Concern painted his face as you looked up at him.

“You okay? What happened? Did he try somethin’?” 

You shook your head, lifting your hand to cover your mouth as the churning in your stomach got worse.

“No, I - I feel - I’m gonna be sick...” was all you managed.

Rocky released his hold on you and let you stagger away, rushing back to the safety of the locker room, knowing that Billy wouldn’t be able to get to you in there. You crashed into a bathroom stall, ignoring the pain as your knees hit the cold tiles and you started to wretch, tears spilling from your eyes as you emptied your stomach.

Awkward sobs started to slip out as you gripped the toilet bowl for dear life, knowing that your whole life was in ruins.

You weren’t sure how much time passed but, eventually, you felt a hand on your back. Turning, your bleary eyes fixed on Val, who no doubt wanted to know why you’d just run out on a customer like the room was on fire. Her fingers slipped the mask from your face and she cupped your cheek for a second before pressing the back of her hand to your forehead. 

“Please don’t tell me you’ve caught whatever Tomasina had last week,” she said before pulling back from you and offering you a bottle of water.

“I - I don’t know, maybe it was just something I ate,” you answered weakly.

Val’s gaze shifted from you to the toilet. “It doesn’t look like you ate all that much.”

You weren’t sure why, but her concern just made you feel worse. It didn’t feel like you deserved concern or compassion after what you’d done.

“I’m sorry,” you said, shame filling your voice.

“What are you sorry for?” 

“Walking out on a customer,” you answered before forcing yourself to take a small drink and instantly regretting it when your stomach started to turn again.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s been taken care of.”

You didn’t know what that meant, and you didn’t dare ask. You were just glad that she wasn’t angry with you - that had to mean that Billy hadn’t told her anything.

“Is he... still here?”

“No, he left - though he did ask me to tell you that he hopes you feel better soon.”

Silence fell as you tried to process it.

Of course he hadn’t said anything to Val - he was probably too embarrassed, too humiliated to tell anyone. No, he was probably saving his ire for the next time he saw you, tomorrow morning at Anvil.

Your head turned back to the toilet bowl at the thought, but you managed to keep yourself from throwing up again with some deep, calming breaths.

“I’m going to call you a taxi to take you home, but you’re gonna need to take a few days to get over whatever this is before you come back, okay? I can’t have anyone else catching it and needing to call out sick. I’m not running a plague ship,” Val said, offering you her hand.

At any other time you might have objected, knowing just how much you needed the money, but you stayed silent. Staying away was for the best, it’d give you some time to deal with what had happened and time to look for a new day job.

Your legs shook and protested as you got to your feet, grabbing some paper to wipe your mouth before flushing the toilet.

Getting changed back into your clothes and leaving The Red Ribbon was something of a blur; Rocky insisted on escorting you in the elevator and seeing you to the back of a waiting taxi, all the while telling you to call him if you needed anything.

It wasn’t long before you were staggering awkwardly up the steps to your apartment, feeling ready to drop at any second. It was a miracle that you managed to stay on your feet long enough to reach the mattress on the floor that served as your bed.

You dropped, silently telling yourself that you’d shower and change into your pyjamas after you’d rested your eyes for a few minutes. But once you were down, you found that you couldn’t bring yourself to move. It all just seemed pointless. 

And then the tears started.

It got so bad that you weren’t even sure why you were crying; because you were mortified by what had happened? Because you were definitely going to lose your job at Anvil? Because he was going to yell the next time he saw you? Or because you’d let yourself feel something and he’d never trust you or let you near him again?

The ache in your chest only got worse as you sobbed through awkward, gasped breaths, until you started to hyperventilate. 

At some point, late in the night, you fell asleep.

When your alarm woke you, you felt worse than ever, like your head was stuffed full of cotton wool. You were shivering and uncomfortable, your jeans biting into your waist and the underwire from your bra stabbing you. But it was nothing compared to the pain in your chest, in your heart. 

In the cold light of day, you felt worse than ever; for what you’d done and how you’d allowed yourself to feel. It had been careless, stupid, selfish. 

Your second alarm started to sound but, for the longest time, you couldn’t even force yourself to move to start your day. And, when you did finally manage to lift yourself off the bed, it was only to reach for your bag and pull out your phone. 

You hadn’t bothered to turn it back on since taking it out of your locker last night but, the moment you did, you were inundated with a barrage of missed calls and messages, all from the same contact; Mr Russo.

Answer your phone.

Please.

I just want to know what’s going on.

Please, I just want to talk.

I just want to understand.

Pick up your fucking phone.

There were voicemails too, six of them, but after hearing the first you didn’t have the courage to listen to the rest.

‘Look, can you please just answer your phone? I just want to talk... I - I want to know what the fuck is going on. Why are you doing this? Why did you do any of this? I don’t get it. Just - fuck - please just tell me what this is?’

You couldn’t tell from his tone exactly how he was feeling, but you’d never heard Billy Russo use the word please that many times before. You stopped listening just as the next voicemail started to play, only hearing the rasped word Bunny before ending the call.

All you could think about was that, in forty minutes time, you would be expected at your desk, and - you couldn’t. You couldn’t even think about what would happen if you turned up at Anvil; what Billy would say, what he’d do. There was no way you could face him, even  just to hand in your resignation.

Opening your emails, you did the only thing you could;

I quit. Effective immediately.

Addressing it to him and quickly hitting send. You turned your phone off the moment you got confirmation that the email had been sent and threw it across the room, so you couldn’t be tempted to torment yourself with the other voicemails he’d left you.

Then, you practically crawled to the bathroom, feeling sick again, but your stomach was empty and all you ended up doing was sitting on the cold wood floor until you found the strength to get up, brush your teeth and change into comfier clothes.

You knew that you should do something, that you should try to put the pieces of your life back together as quickly as possible, but all you wanted to do was wallow. The cold didn’t help, your tiny apartment feeling more like an ice box than a home. You ended up on the threadbare sofa, wrapped in a blanket, staring blankly at the window as the morning sky grew darker and darker.

It was going to rain - not that it mattered, not that you had anywhere to be. It was all you could bring yourself to think about; the bad weather and the cold. Any time your mind started to drift towards anything else, you felt your chest start tightening and tears welling in your eyes.

You didn’t think twice when the intercom sounded; your neighbours were constantly ordering packages and food, or inviting friends around, but never seemed to be ready or willing to buzz people into the building. More often than not, delivery guys hit all sixteen buttons and hoped to get lucky.

You pushed the button, took a breath and; “hello?”

There was silence and, for a wonderful moment, you dared to hope that whoever it was had already been buzzed into the building.

But then you heard him.

“It’s me.”

Your heart threatened to stop. Of course he knew where you lived, it was on your file at Anvil - you should have thought it a small mercy that he’d left it until the morning to show up, but you were too consumed by panic to see any of it as merciful. 

“Let me in. I just want to talk,” he said, tone bordering on demanding, but it felt like he was holding back.

“I quit.” You said. It was the first and only thing to come to mind, and it seemed easier than trying to explain why you didn’t want to let him in.

“I know you did,” he answered, “but I don’t accept your resignation.”

“What?” You asked, your voice coming out so small and quiet that you didn’t even know if he’d heard you.

“Just... let me in,” then after a beat, “please.”

“No. I can’t,” you said, trying not to give away that you were close to tears. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I don’t want to see you, I -”

“Bunny...”

“Please, I’m sorry, just... just leave me alone.”

You clamped a hand over your mouth, desperate to suppress the sob that managed to claw its way from you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said decidedly. “I’ll stay out here as long as it takes.”

You released the intercom button and stepped away from the door, suddenly feeling like a prisoner in your own home. How long would he wait, you idly wondered, how long before he realised that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted?

(But, Billy Russo always got what he wanted. Didn’t he?)

The door buzzed again but, this time, you ignored it. You ignored it for five minutes until, finally, it stopped and you dared to relax for a fraction of a moment before going straight back to worrying about whether he was still out there or not.

Rain started to batter your windows and you felt a cold draught leaking in through the crack in one of the frames and - surely he wasn’t going to wait outside in the wind and rain?

You made yourself a hot drink, eyeing the clock as the minutes ticked by; fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, an hour. And the rain continued to pour and the wind kept howling. He had to have given up, gone back to his office, back to all of the problems that you couldn’t help him fix.

It was over. Done.

And, still, your heart ached with a loss that it didn’t understand. He’d never been yours, and you’d never been his.

A sharp thump on the door had you almost throwing scalding coffee over yourself, and a second had your heart missing a beat. Then came two more knocks, rattling the whole door in the frame. Slowly, cautiously, you crept towards the door and peeked through the peephole.

He was soaked to the bone, his usually perfect hair limply stuck to his forehead, causing rivulets of water to run down his face.

Billy knocked again and you almost jumped out of your skin, stepping back from the door as if you thought he was about to knock the damned thing from its hinges. 

He must have heard your gasp, because he spoke seconds later.

“I just want to talk.”

There was an edge to his tone, something you were more than familiar with. He was frustrated, annoyed. Which - of course he was. You’d lied to him, you’d let things go too far. You’d pretended to be someone he could like, someone he could maybe even grow to care about, someone unlike you, the disappointing and useless PA.

“Please, just go away,” you muttered quietly, 

When you got no response, you glanced through the peephole again, hoping to find him gone, instead he was leaning against your door, his head hanging forward.

“I’m not going away,” he finally said. “You’ll have to face me eventually.”

You knew that he was right, and the fact that he’d just spent an hour standing outside in a storm was testament to his stubbornness. 

Leaning, you pressed your forehead against the door and closed your eyes, and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “For all of it. I never meant for things to get so out of hand.”

“Please open the door,” he said and you could have sworn you heard a tremor in his voice, a shiver.

(He was soaked through, of course he was shivering.)

You knew what you had to do, after all, the whole situation was your fault. As much as you hated it and as scared as you were of him getting angry, he was owed an explanation. You took a few more deep breaths, struggling to find Bunny’s confidence inside of you as your trembling fingers reached for the deadbolt, then the chain and, finally, the lock.

You pulled the door open slowly, looking anywhere but at Billy as he stepped into your apartment.

Once he was inside, you retreated halfway across the living room, casting him an uncomfortable look that caused him to wince. His coat was dripping all over the floor, but it seemed to be the least of his concerns, his full attention fixed on you.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, trying to figure out how to even explain what had happened.

“Did you know it was me from the start?” He asked. “Was it all just some trick? Some sick joke?”

Your stomach knotted, hating that he could think you’d be that malicious even for a second. But you didn’t blame him for jumping to that conclusion, not after everything he’d told you last night about his business partner betraying his trust.

“N-no, it wasn’t anything like that. I didn’t realise who you were until I saw you at the Rockefeller Center, at the ice rink...” your eyes dropped to his feet, to the wet growing patch in the carpet. “Why did you go looking for me?”

It was his turn to hesitate and struggle for an answer.

“I wanted to find you, I wanted -”

“I told you it couldn’t last,” you interrupted, finally managing to find a shred of Bunny’s confidence. “I asked you not to ruin it.”

“You said it wouldn’t last because I’d get bored and move on. I wouldn’t have.”

That... that wasn’t what you were expecting him to say.

“If you knew who I was last night, why didn’t you say something?” He continued. “Why let it go so far? What did you have to gain from not telling me?”

“I - I don’t know!” Your voice broke and you tried to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. “I was going to tell you but then you showed up and you were so upset and I just wanted to make you feel better -”

“Make me feel better by letting me think I was about to fuck someone else?”

There it was. Someone else. Not you. Because Billy Russo would never choose someone like you.

“Right, because that’s all it really comes down to, isn’t it? You’d be perfectly happy right now if you hadn’t found out. You’d be happy if you could imagine it was literally anyone but me, right?” You said, anger and resentment slipping into your tone. “Well you weren’t the only one who was disappointed. Have you got any idea what it felt like to find out that the guy who was so sweet and kind to me when he couldn’t see my face, was actually the asshole who goes out of his way to make me feel like shit at every opportunity?”

Billy was silent, taken aback by your outburst.

“I never...” he tried, but seemed at a loss for words.

“Every day, for months, you’ve yelled at me for fucking up - and I wouldn’t even fuck up so much in the first place if you didn’t treat me like shit, if you didn’t constantly make me feel like fucking up is all I’m capable of,” you continued, finally finding that spark of Bunny inside you and grasping it tight with both hands. “You wanted to know why I changed my limits? You. You’re why. You’ve constantly made me feel like you were going to fire me and you have no idea how much I needed the money I was making from Anvil.”

You saw him look around, finally getting a good look at your apartment, at the way you lived, and you could tell he had questions. The money you made at Anvil alone was more than enough to see you living somewhere nicer, and the money from The Red Ribbon should have had you living more than comfortably.

“I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. I don’t know why I didn’t stop you last night -” you shook your head, “- maybe for a minute I dared to let myself believe that you really were nice and sweet, and that you could want someone like me...”

You finally fell silent, your confidence slipping away again.

This time the silence lingered for thirty long seconds, and when you managed to bring yourself to look at him again, you found his face was an unreadable mask.

“You’re right,” he said.

Infuriatingly, he didn’t tell you which part you were right about straight away. You remained quiet, forcing him to be the one to fill the silence.

“You’re right,” he said again, a tremor in his voice as he shivered. “I haven’t treated you well, and I’m sorry. I’ve been under so much pressure the last few months that I - I don’t think I really even realised I was doing it. But that’s no excuse, I should never have taken my problems out on you.”

He let silence fill the space between you again, and when you looked at him, you could see the genuine struggle on his face.

“I never wanted to be like that with anyone,” he confessed as he continued. “That was why I kept coming back to you - why I wanted to find you - because when I was with you and I could pretend that none of my problems existed, I was happy.”

The wind outside grew stronger, howling and shaking the windows as thunder sounded in the distance.

“I know it wasn’t real,” resignation filled his tone, “but I - I wanted it to be. I wanted to be that version of me without the mask... with you...”

You sniffled awkwardly, still barely holding the tears at bay.

“But it wasn’t me that you wanted. It was Bunny,” you said, your voice becoming little more than a low mutter.

“I think that some part of you is Bunny,” said Billy, almost managing to force a smile. “Just like some part of me is the guy who was nice to you.”

Oh, how you longed to believe him.

“I think we could be those people... if we gave each other a chance...”

Your heart seemed to come to a complete stop in your chest and the room became so quiet and still that you could hear every shivering breath that he took.

“What?” You asked in barely little more than a whisper. 

“I want to know what we could be like out in the real world, with no masks to hide behind.”

It was an uncomfortable confession and, if you didn’t know him better, you might have thought that he was scared of voicing it. But, surely not. Right? Surely he didn’t mean what you thought he meant.

“I thought...” you trailed off for a few seconds in confusion. “I thought you were angry at me.”

Wasn’t that why he was there, because he thought you’d been playing some cruel joke, because he thought you’d tried to trick him?

“I was... to begin with,” he said, shrugging. “After you ran out, when you wouldn’t answer my calls, but this morning, I was at the office, waiting for you to come in... I was thinking about firing you, I had your personnel file in my hand...”

He took another awkward pause and just... stared at you, confused, like you were some complex puzzle that he couldn’t understand. 

“And, I realised that, if I fired you, I’d never see you again. That I’d lose you and Bunny forever, and I couldn’t go through with it. When I got your email and I knew I needed to see you, I knew I needed to do something. I needed to get you back.”

You shook your head at the sheer insanity of it all. Billy dared to take a step forward when he saw the gesture, an almost pleading expression on his face.

“This isn’t how I should’ve gotten to know you - I know I’m doing everything backwards here, but all I’m asking for is one chance.”

He was trying. He was trying far more than you ever expect him to. More than that, it felt like he was fighting for you and... you hadn’t had anyone fight for you in a really long time. But, still -

“It’s not me you want,” you said, deflating a little at the thought, hating that you couldn’t be what he wanted you to be. “I’m not like Bunny.”

Billy laughed.

For some reason that was so beyond your comprehension, he actually laughed.

“You realise you just called me an asshole, right? You told me exactly how you felt, and you didn’t back down. You made me stand outside in the freezing rain for over an hour - I think you’re more like Bunny than you realise,” he said, taking another step. “But you don’t have to be. I don’t want to know some pretend version of you. I want to get to know the real you. That’s why I went to the ice rink.” He hesitated, swallowing awkwardly. “And I want you to know the real me.”

“Billy,” you said, and it felt strange to call him that - Billy and not Mr Russo. “What are you even suggesting?”

“I - I don’t know. Come back to work at Anvil - or don’t. Let me take you out for dinner. Or let me see you again at the club. We can put the masks back on, you can pretend that you don’t know it’s me, that -”

“We can’t do that.”

You couldn’t, could you? You hadn’t even been able to pretend that it wasn’t him last night when you’d almost let him fuck you. But the other things?

“Why not?” He asked.

The million dollar question.

“Because you’re... you, and I’m just... me.”

Million dollar question meet bargain bin answer. You knew how stupid it sounded the moment it left your lips but, really, was it any more ridiculous than the rest of the conversation?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Billy asked, finally taking a moment to brush his wet hair back, away from his forehead.

“I’m not good at... this. I’m not good with people,” you quickly continued when you noticed he was about to interrupt. “With Bunny it’s different. I have a safety net. I have a two hundred and fifty pound security guard to keep me safe and a manager who vets every single person she lets through the door, out in the real world I’m...”

You trailed off into a telling silence, letting your gaze drop to the floor.

“Who hurt you?” He asked, barely containing the spike of anger in his voice.

The last thing you wanted to do was tell him some sob story and have him feel sorry for you but, after all the lies, it felt like you at least owed him some honesty.

“My ex - not physically, and he wasn’t really bad to me but,” you let out a heavy sigh and found his dark eyes staring intently at you, “he made me cosign on a couple of loans and then he walked out...”

“What?” He didn’t even try to hide the anger.

“That’s why I need two jobs - and I can still barely keep my head above water.” You said, forcing another shrug. “I’m a mess. My whole life is a mess, and the last guy I trusted -”

“I’d never hurt you like that.”

And, some part of you was more than willing to believe him. In the time it took you to almost formulate a response, Billy had closed the distance between you, coming to stand in front of you.

“You don’t even like me,” you said softly.

Billy reached for you slowly, giving you ample chance to pull away before gently cupping your cheek with his cold hand.

“Yesterday, you brought me coffee and you asked if things were alright,” he said simply. “I’d been an asshole to you, and you still cared enough to ask. As Bunny, you asked me if I was sleeping enough and you got me to spend my birthday with my friends, and for the first time in years, I actually enjoyed my birthday. You didn’t have to do any of that, but you did because you’re a good person.”

You stared at him, completely lost for words, trying to understand how the bar was so low for him that you doing the bare minimum had had such an impact on him. But, then, you remembered the little things he’d said, that he’d given away; people only wanting him for his money, his mother abandoning him, one of the few people he’d ever trusted betraying him.

You’d given him something so simple, something so few people had bothered to give.

“Maybe better than I deserve,” he continued, his thumb tenderly brushing your cheek, “but, if you’ll let me, I want to try to be worthy of someone like you because I do like you.”

“How?” You dared to ask, some part of you wanting to believe that what he was saying was real.

“We could go back to the start, take things slowly, get to really know each other,” he offered, fiercely clinging to the shred of hope that you’d offered him. “Anything you want. I just want a chance to see if this could be something.”

“No,” you said. “I don’t want to go back to the start.”

The corners of his lips dropped and he looked at you as if you’d just driven a knife into his chest, his face paling as he felt the pain caused by your refusal so acutely. His hand dropped from your cheek. You’d never seen him look so defeated.

It was unbearable.

You moved suddenly and without hesitation, surging forwards to tenderly press your lips to his in a kiss that was reminiscent of your first night together at The Red Ribbon. Billy tensed in confusion but quickly pressed his hand to your cheek again.

He was frowning when you pulled back, obviously not understanding what you were clumsily trying to tell him.

“Don’t want to go back to the start,” you muttered, trying to explain yourself. “I want to start here, right now.”

Your own hand moved, pressing to his chest over the damp fabric of his shirt, feeling the way his heart was pounding. For you. His heart was racing, hammering against his ribs, and it was all for you.

Billy let out a sigh, an awkward and relieved sound that sent a shiver down your spine. You lost yourself in his eyes as he stepped closer, closing the last little bit of space between you and wrapped an arm around you.

Then his lips were on yours again, his tongue running along the seam of your mouth. The kiss quickly became more passionate, more eager, until you felt the damp from his coat sleeve starting to soak through the back of your sweater.

You squirmed, smiling against his lips as you clumsily pushed his coat off his shoulders.

“You’re soaking wet,” you murmured against his lips.

“That’s my line,” he answered back, letting his coat fall to the floor.

You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you, pressing your face to his chest to hide your embarrassment.

“I knew you were trouble the moment I laid eyes on you,” you said between gasps of laughter.

His arm tightened around you, like he couldn’t even fathom ever letting you go again. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you all but melted against him. But it wasn’t long before you realised you needed to do something about his wet shirt too. So, slowly, almost cautiously, you started to unbutton it.

You were almost methodical in the way that you opened his shirt and ran your fingers over the exposed expanse of his chest. Billy stood silently, watching you as mapped every inch of cold skin with your eyes and fingertips, stopping and paying particular attention to each scar you found. You had to remind yourself that he had been a Marine, and that every mark was something that he had survived.

When he shrugged off the wet shirt, your fingers traced a silvery scar on his shoulder - it looked older than the others. Much older, something from his childhood. Your eyes caught Billy’s for a moment, and he simply shook his head.

“It’s okay,” he said as if reading your mind. “I’m okay now.”

Maybe one day he’d tell you about the scar, and all the others but, at that moment, it wasn’t important. The past wasn’t important, just the here and now.

Still, you leaned closer and pressed your lips to the scar, and his arm wrapped around you again. You were content to pepper light kisses along his shoulder and up his neck until you felt him shiver against you.

“Come on,” you said softly, running your fingers down his arm and taking his hand in yours, “let’s get you warmed up.”

“I like the sound of that.”

Billy followed as you led, pulling him towards your bedroom but, about halfway, you ended up pressed against him again, kissing him, unable to stop yourself. You found your back pressed to the wall right beside the bedroom door, his hands pulling off your sweater.

“Now we’re even,” he said, smiling against your lips.

Playfully, you shook your head and quickly started to undo his belt and pants, forcing him to awkwardly kick them off, along with his shoes. Then you were moving again, pulling him into the room and towards bed.

He caught the flicker of embarrassment on your face at the mattress on the floor, at the mostly empty room, at the whole sorry state of your life, and he quickly kissed you again, silencing every terrible thought in your head.

“If you think I care about anything other than getting you naked right now, you’re sorely mistaken,” he muttered, before delivering a playful nip to your bottom lip.

“Oh, you want me naked, do you?” You answered back.

“I do.”

“And, I suppose you’re the sort of man who always has to get what he wants, aren’t you?”

“You’re learning quickly, Bunny.”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer back and continue your little game, his lips covered yours again and his fingers started to push your loose fitting sweatpants down your legs. You stepped out of them as he continued to walk you backwards, towards the mattress that served as your bed until you felt it at your heels.

The next thing you knew, you were on your back beneath Billy, his body pressing you down into the mattress, your legs tangled with his. 

Fingertips raked down his back, following the ridges of his spine as you pulled him closer, losing yourself under the weight of him and the want that had been building in you over the last week and a half, You wanted to suffocate on his lips while you were crushed beneath him, you wanted and wanted and wanted.

When he pulled from the kiss, gasping for breath, your lips chased his, not wanting even a second of reprieve from him. And, the way he looked down at you, his dark eyes turning incredibly soft, was almost enough to make your heart stop beating.

“You’re perfect,” he said softly, shaking his head, confused. “How have you been in front of me all of this time but I’ve only just noticed?”

“I seem to remember you noticing my ass pretty quickly.”

Billy laughed and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, a tender gesture that made you melt inside.

“I’ve got a confession to make,” he said. “That grey skirt you wear for work sometimes...”

“Mr Russo!” You gasped, feigning indignation. “Are you saying you’ve been checking out my ass at work?”

It shouldn’t have been the huge confidence boost that it was but, to think he’d noticed you that way before seeing you in the revealing bodysuit at The Red Ribbon did make you feel better about yourself.

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I don’t appreciate the days you wear your charcoal suit...” you added after a beat.

“You mean you’ve been checking out your asshole boss?”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling his lips to yours. “He might be an asshole, but he’s a handsome asshole.”

You swallowed his laughter with your lips, kissing him as you squirmed beneath him, pulling your leg from between his so his hips were nestled between your thighs. Billy took the opportunity to shift closer to you, pressing down and - fuck, you swore into the kiss at the feeling of his hard cock against you.

He took advantage of your moment of shock and started trailing kisses down your neck, grazing his teeth over your collarbone and sinking lower still. You arched your back as he reached behind you, letting him relieve you of your bra. 

The sound he made, the low rumbling in the back of his throat at the sight of your exposed breasts should have been criminal. It caused a heat to lick through your body, shooting down your spine to your core and had you clenching around nothing.

Your head fell back on the pillow as he took his time acquainting himself with your tits, his cold hands quickly warming as he alternated between groping and kissing, paying particular attention to the stiff peaks of your nipples.

“Billy, please...”

The words slipped out as a quiet plea and, the moment they left your lips, you all but forgot about them, as if you’d never even spoken them to begin with. You weren’t used to this, you weren’t used to feeling worshipped and wanted. You weren’t even sure what you were asking Billy for but the moment his lips started to trail down towards your stomach, you felt like all of your prayers were about to be answered.

You bit your lip as you looked down and caught his dark eyes staring up at you just as his tongue slipped from his lips and traced a circle around your navel. A soft gasp escaped at the warmth of his tongue against your skin, already starting to imagine what you hoped was going to come next.

His gaze held yours and you didn’t look away - you were certain you couldn’t have, even if you’d wanted to. As his fingers hook on your panties, you lifted your hips, feeling your cheeks start to warm as you were completely bared to him. Billy slipped lower down the mattress, his hands urged your thighs apart so he could drink in the sight of you.

A desperate and needy sound managed to slip past your lips as his fingertip trailed through your folds and the wetness that betrayed your arousal.

“You’ve got no idea how many times I’ve imagined this, Bunny,” he said, sounding as breathless as you felt, “you spread out beneath me, moaning for me while I devour this sweet pussy.”

Your cheeks grew hotter still, but any shy embarrassment you might have felt at his words was snuffed out by your own desperate need for him. Without realising you were even doing it, you shifted your hips, pressing against his finger, desperate for more.

“Billy, please...” you said again.

A shiver ran down your spine at the smirk that appeared on his lips at your quiet plea. For a moment he looked torn, like he was considering teasing you, making you really beg for him (and some part of you knew that you would), but it quickly became clear that he didn’t want to deny himself.

Parting your folds with his fingers, he bowed his head and -

“Fuck!” You moaned.

The heat of his tongue against your sensitive flesh was simultaneously too much and not nearly enough. His hand gripped your thigh tighter, holding you down as he continued his assault on your senses. He started with long, slow laps of his tongue, teasing from your entrance up to your clit before starting to focus his attention on the swollen bundle of nerves.

Your thighs trembled and tensed as he alternated between slow circles and rapid flicks, easily starting to push you towards orgasm.

Billy groaned against you and you felt the vibrations of it through his tongue. He muttered something - no doubt something utterly filthy - but you couldn’t hear it over the needy noises he was pulling from you, the moans and the gasped pleas, begging him not to stop.

You came quickly. Easily. You started to moan and writhe beneath him, not caring that he’d managed to push you over the edge so easily. But your orgasm wasn’t enough to stop Billy or even slow him down. His tongue sank lower, lapping at your entrance as it clenched and spasmed, lapping up your arousal until you felt like nothing more than a sloppy, desperate mess beneath him.

And, once that orgasm had started to subside, he started to push you towards another.

Two fingers easily slipped between your walls and his tongue returned to your clit, causing you to cry out his name so loudly that you were sure you felt his lips pull into a smile against you.

Reaching down, you tangled your fingers in his damp hair, half wanting to push him away so you could have a moment to regain his sanity, and half wanting to pull him closer and let him completely devour you.

His fingers set a quick rhythm, betraying his impatience. Your eyes caught his and you could see his need, his want. And you found yourself wanting exactly what he did. You wanted him to fuck you.

You kept your eyes fixed on his, biting down hard on your lip as his teeth grazed over your clit. Then he pulled the throbbing nub between his lips and you were sure that you saw stars as you started to come again.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, breathless beneath him as he started to move back up your body.

“That was everything I imagined and so much more,” Billy said, wiping his wet lips on the back of his hand before capturing your lips in a kiss.

One of you let out a groan - though, honestly, you weren’t sure which - and the kiss quickly took on a life of its own. Hungry, needy, passionate, both of you taking and giving in equal measure, building anticipation for what was about to happen.

Reaching down, you pushed his boxers from his hips, getting them as far as you could before using your feet to push them the rest of the way.

“That’s a neat trick.” He smiled against your lips.

“I’m a woman of many talents,” you retorted.

“I bet you are.”

Any thought of responding was quickly ended by the press of his bare cock between your thighs, the tip teasingly nudging its way between your folds. 

Your fingers pressed into his back and your eyes fixed on his again, wanting him to know that there was no doubt in your mind. You wanted him.

Lifting your head, you kissed him, gasping softly against his lips as you felt his cock notch into you, slowly pushing between your still-sensitive walls until he was buried to the hilt. Your head dropped back onto the pillow, feeling more than a little overwhelmed by all of the thoughts and feelings currently racing around inside of you.

Billy looked down at you, seeming equally lost in the moment, stock-still as if he was holding himself back.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, “I’m okay.”

“Not you I’m worried about,” he answered with an awkward smile. “You feel so fucking good.”

There was an endearing flash of embarrassment on his face and you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning up at him, loving that you were able to have such an affect on him

“Hmm, if you keep making comments like that about my body, I’m gonna have to report you to Anvil HR, Mr Russo.”

Billy let out an awkward groan and you felt his cock twitch inside you. 

“Don’t,” he warned, barely biting back a laugh. “Don’t call me that while I’m inside you, Bunny, or this is gonna be over before it starts.”

“Call you what?” You asked teasingly. “Mr Russo.” 

“Bunny...” he all but growled against your lips as he kissed you again.

Finally, he started to draw his hips back and any part of you that wanted to continue to joke and tease quickly fell silent. He set a slow, steady rhythm, letting you feel every inch of his cock as it slid in and out of your heat. 

And it was perfect. You’d never experienced anything so perfect before.

Hitching your thigh on his hip, you let out a long moan, giving yourself over to him completely. 

Eventually he started to pick up the pace, easily pulling more eager sounds from you. Again and again, his lips crashed into yours, each kiss more desperate than the last, like he was trying to prove a point to you.

His arm hooked beneath your knee, pushing your leg up higher, allowing him to sink deeper inside you, and you knew that you were lost. You knew that no man would ever make you feel that good again.

“Billy,” you moaned as he nipped your lower lip again. “... feels so good...”

You felt yourself clench around him, your thighs starting to tremble again as another orgasm threatened to wash over you.

“Let go,” Billy muttered, “come for me, Bunny.”

And you did. You cried out for him as you shattered, your back arching off the mattress, your whole body feeling like it was burning with pleasure from the inside out. It was the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced and, as you moaned and writhed beneath him, you felt Billy let go too.

He gave a grunt as he started to come undone, his cock twitching as your walls clenched around him, the both of you getting lost in ecstasy together.

Billy kissed you again, just as eagerly as every time before, kissing you like he was still trying to prove his worth to you when he’d already more than won you over, as the pleasure slowly started to ebb.

Minutes passed and the pair of you stilled, holding each other tight, neither wanting to let go for the longest time.

When Billy finally moved away, it was only to lay beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. Minutes passed, neither of you speaking, both seeming to just enjoy the close and tender moment.

“What happens now?” You finally dared to ask.

You got no answer and soon realised that he’d fallen asleep snuggled up beside you. 

You didn’t have the heart to wake him, knowing that he needed the rest.

It could wait. 

Everything could wait.

The only thing that mattered was the moment, everything else could be figured out later.

For a few sweet minutes, you watched him sleep, gently running your fingers through his hair. But, exhausted by the drama of the last few days, you shifted closer and closed your eyes, and soon fell asleep in his arms.

A/N : I mean, it's not technically a cliffhanger, it's more of an open sort of ending??😂 I know I say this every time I finish something, but maybe one day I'll come back to this. But, I don't know, I feel like with this ending everyone can have their own idea of how things play out. I enjoyed this though and I enjoyed the challenge of trying to write a more contained story. idk if anyone has noticed this about me but everything I write tends to end up really long, so it was nice to play around with a more straight forward plot? Anyway. I hope everyone enjoys this ending and the fact that Billy is finally getting some sleep.

If you've not voted for what I'm going to write next the poll is here!!! I have no idea what's going on or what's winning and it's a little terrifying. (71 people have voted so far and that's completely mindblowing, so thanks for that!)

In other news, next week I will be posting a cute little one-shot follow-up to Catch Me if You Can. I'm not going to tag everyone who was on the original tag list because it feels awkward and weird to tag people on something I finished almost a year ago. But I'll tag the people who've asked to be tagged on all the Billy stuff.

Anyway hope you all have a great week, and thank you so much for all the love and support you've shown this story!

Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @dreadfulxives18 @shwnirwin

@ladyblacky @spitecrow @oliviaewl @snowkestrel @theendofthematerialgworl

@super-clearlysaltybouquet @danzer8705 @benbarnesprettygurl @themorriganisamonster @watersquirtpewpewboomm

[l0vegl0wsinthedark]

Draw Drarry Badly Challenge 2025

*

I did it! I DID IT! HERE IS MY ENTRY!

This is based on an idea given to me by @m4g0rtz ❤️

Thank you for reminding me how much I enjoy sucking at art @julcheninred ❤️

*

Title: THE INEXORABLE APPROACH OF THE DAY aka WHY SHOULD BRIDES HAVE ALL THE FUN aka DRACO MALFOY GETS WHAT HE WANTS (including Harry Potter (who is hopelessly smitten))

*ominous music*

"All right, darling," said Draco. "Today we get our MOSTE IMPORTANTE wedding shopping done. Are you ready to start?"

"I'm ready to finish," said Harry.

"Excellent. First things first. Bloomers."

"What."

"Bloomers, darling. Satin bloomers."

"Is that a sex thing?"

"Harry. No. We'll wear them atop our stockings."

"Sto-?"

"Come along now."

"I think pink is your true colour, my love," said Draco sincerely.

"I don't want to wear frilly undershorts."

"Bloomers, darling. And we have to."

"Why."

"Tradition!"

"I don't think anyone will know if we don't wear these."

"Of course they will! The elders always check under the grooms' robes before the ceremony."

"The elders do what?!"

"Next up: our wedding robes! Aren't you excited?!"

"NO."

"You look wonderful, darling!" gushed Draco.

"All this frill. Why?"

"Tradition!"

"Why are we on fire," asked Harry.

"In-built sparklers!"

"We're on fire."

"It's magic! Honestly, Harry! You're still such a Muggle sometimes."

"These colours... I don't even know where to start.

"Eye-catching, yes?!"

"They're all going to have a stroke."

"We're going to stand out!"

"Yes, outside Mungo's, while our guests are admitted for a collective stroke."

"Yes, these are perfect! Next: our custom made boots!"

"Shit."

"Yes! That's the spirit!"

"What do you think?" asked Draco. "I thought we'd both go with green. You know... For your eyes, and my Hogwarts house!"

"...there are flowers on mine."

"Real ones! Charmed to stay fresh forever!"

"Flowers. On my shoes."

"Beautiful, aren't they? They were Longbottom's idea!"

"I never thought I'd kill Neville some day, but here we are."

"What do you think of mine?"

"They have feathers on them."

"Peacock feathers, darling. Because I'm a Malfoy."

"Why can't I have feathers?!"

"Because you get flowers."

"Why do we need to put anything on them?! They're SHOES."

"Tradition, Harry. Stop yelling!"

"I'm not--"

"Next: HATS!"

"Now you're yelling."

"Aaahh! I've waited 30 years to try on my wedding hat!" said Draco.

"Why do they have curtains."

"They're veils, darling."

"I can't see."

"I'll hold your hand, see?"

"I don't want to wear this cone-curtain contraption on my head."

"Well, you have to."

"Why?!"

"TRADITION!" bellowed Draco.

"I DON'T W--"

"NEXT: OUR NECKLACES!"

"NOOO!"

"Emeralds for me. Rubies for you, darling."

"..."

"This is pure, solid gold."

"..."

"You love them so much that you're speechless?! Well done, me!"

*silent choking noises"

(BONUS:)

"All right. Now we take our best men to get them their bloomers. Blaise is meeting us there. Call Weasley and give me the phonic."

"..."

"Give me that. Weasley, it's me, Draco Lucius Malfoy. Come get fitted for your lace bloomers at once!"

~fini~

[ravenempress101]

💙Odds of Temptation 18+ 💙gong yoo “the salesman” imagine

Okay hey everybody I’m writing again had to write about this handsome human man lord that recruiter scene got a sista a feigning 🤦🏽‍♀️ But anyways enjoy the imagine!

summary: they play a game, but is she gonna make it out alive.

⚠️REMEMBER READ AT YOUR OWN RISK⚠️ word count: 2.4k Warnings: **Dark romance** Restraints, Anxiety, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Erotophonophilia, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Dacryphillia, Sadomasochism, Deepthroating, gun and exclusive bullet play, fixation of size kink

“Oh no it’s happening again” The stream blaring in y/n’s ear from the tv her caramel face dropped into her hands.Her held breathe escaped as the news reporter continued.

Ladies and gentlemen of the press. We have found the body of the fourth victim. We are sorry to say, that it's the same person who has been found as all the other three. We apologize for your loss.”

Y/n revealed tears of the horror of the victims and that had cinnamon hair, beige frames and raven boba eyes covered in lost dreams and arctic nightmares of coming to there end. Why does this keep happening again? Blood rushing from her body, at the withered cards of the bodies of the similar deaths.

Y/n heart thump out side of her chest as the words on all the 3 cards from all different bodies. Her thoughts connected as her face soften as realization hits her.

the brown cards his hand writing tracing “neoui da-eum” your next in Korean

Pounding came over her ears as silence hung in the air. Her first instinct erupted with the bare heels clicked to the floor to the door slamming it but a strong bicep appeared at her door, her heart dropping from his

Are you okay miss?” He said concern has he found the person he always wanted. The words stuck in her throat. Strength in closing the door,the door swung open from his Zeus like strength. A grey suit korean man manifested at her eyes. A lock hung in the air.

Y/n knew it was to late. Backing up from her spot on the floor. He held his slender pointer finger his way. Y/n knew she followed his command of stop running from someone that you need in this thing called love. As what he called it.

“I guess you heard, I knew you would get the messsge”

“Please don’t hurt me, those people why,”

“Aweee sweetheart they reminded me of our game cat and mouse”

His black loafers circled your fragile body with every word that he spat with. The knees clutch at your chest at the venomous behavior he had in store for you.

“They played the game, and couldn’t keep it up but you oh you could always darling”

His orbs darkened in how his words made your body stiffen. He had you where he wanted you.

“I tried with them. There screams couldn’t compare to you, there putting up a fight couldn’t compare to you and you know why they call me the salesman?”

His bronze features inches from you. A vein popping from the side of his head and his clinched jaw he was assigned to you, you were his assignment the tears you shed for him ignited a fire in him.

“I sell people dreams and sweetheart your worst nightmare too.”

she embodied on her toes his coarse hook reached out and grabbed a fist full of hair advancing back to his hard body. He pinned his body against hers and captured his briefcase and appearing a weapon. He placed his man made bullets inside the machinery his whistle filled the room.

“Please don’t hurt me, I don’t want to play I gave it some thought it shouldn’t have to be this way”

“Eh eh eh we are not done you know you have to finish winning first, you started not giving up that easily”

He placed the machinery to her fragile temple and the clicked was sound. Y/n heart released from her soul

“Please don’t pull it again, I’m sorry I play the game I’ll p-p-play”

Her soul grasp holding on to life itself but being Alive with a demon.

Her cries fell into sobs with the last victims knowing she had no choice ending up like them. she had to play his game, a belonging sinister games made her squirm.

“There you are my darling see that wasn’t so hard”

The Korean salesman places the restraints on your small wrists. His hands found your ankles and shackled them aswell. Capturing your thick frame and dragging you toward the bedroom and casted you on the bed.

“we are going to play telephone, you repeat as I say and no stumbles”

His figure on the side of the bed. Incarcerating your thick frame manifesting on top of his built lap. His finger slips of the hem of your pants pulling them down. panties covering your wetness, His sentiment of how wet you are. guiding your pantie to your ankle and his first finger within you. A cold wiggle of him fabricated a shakey exhale and his deep and steady. He know he needed to feel you after what you did to him and his bulge could be seen cause of it.

His voice rigorous with his glare at you his eyes darkened

“"I'm always willing to go further with you…"

Anchored to the chime from his heartshappes signaling her turn to repeat. Her wetness grew as the second finger find its way inside her. His movement picked up in and out of her. Her vision was blurred and eyes rolling back slipping into her euphoria. Her soul being snatched by the devil himself smiling almost losing her.

“I-I-I-

A moan from her lucid frame.

“Mhmmm mmmm no stumbles”

Her conscious sweating as the barrel channeled to her fragile neck, her body straighten, his finger on the trigger.

“Wait wait please let me say it again”

The caramel skinned recruiter fell to her ear level and and listen in on his phrase being repetitive.

I’m always willing to go further with you”

His devilish smile appeared on his face. Your voice was like honey dripping from nectar at the command so he knew he could take it further when he wanted to. He could push you to no end.

“Such a pretty girl, see your so smart" he cooed in my ear. His eyes shine with the light over head as he pumped faster inside. Y/n could feel calloused fingers lacing her close to her high.

Once she felt a warm sensation he paused and pulled out leaving her with a void. That was his cold hearted game. No release.

Her moan of frustration barefaced and his orbs rolled from her action of desperation.

“Please I’m sorry I’ll pay you back I can’t”

Yes you are paying me back with your body, so let’s turn up the odds for every moan I’ll intensify my weapon”

His weapon casually held at your slender neck guided down the side of your curves teasing you he rubbed the weapon lower intertwining your belly button. Then the freezing metal inside your milky flesh stuffed, holding her tiny notes in at him she knew she couldn’t moan. That was her only performance of affection.

“Ride it as you speak”

Y/n nodded fastly at his mandate. Her vision started to seal off as he adjusted the gun inside her then his deep boom of the trigger of the hung in the atmosphere eyes shot wide open.

“Eye contact at all times, especially when your starring at me sweetheart oh how I miss those eyes”

His finger swiped over your ear position your damp locks behind your ear as observe your tear stained face. He wanted to lick your face cleaned but he had to control himself as he controlled yourself he erupted his stubble on your lips kissing harshly his tongue attacked inside, his remorse of pulling back teasing the love that he keeps scarce.

"I need you more than I need air to breathe” he snapped y/n forcefully follow right behind him. She repeated flawlessly at the phrase being giving to her she could feel his length grow warmth but the barrel she bounce up and down on made her shiver with pain. she looked so hopeless acknowledgment of your life was in his hands.

good darling, your doing good”

Y/n agreed, she felt herself get dripping from the weapon. Panicking filled her built. her high didn’t rush in on her. Her perspective fell low at the handsome salesman sinful gaze and her protesting “I promise I didn’t, please don’t kill me”

His tan hand to her chin Raising and laughs fell upon him eating off your thoughts manifesting on how scared she was he then unbuckled his pants and lifted her slightly and freeing his self position himself at your warm entrance sat her back down as all his length disappeared inside her. She chocked on how is pre cum came in contact with her.

“Oh honey I know, these little bullets holds something special in them like me”

Y/n shifted a tiny letting out air, a whimper she looked down and he was covered in white already. The bullets held his little substance from him and exploded inside covering her blood-warm walls.

“Y/n you made me so furious leaving such a secrete trail finding my way back to you darling this is all I wanted your warmth you carry is like a addiction”

His thrusts manifested rapidly. Your Cinnamon frame against his cock drifting himself inside. A groan from him watching your body approach his length harder. Fucking his strokes rough and unforgiving. He wanted you to feel every frustration he had. A scream came from her slamming you down curving his length repeatedly your body trying to find resistance toward his hard movement.

“I’m sorry for not keeping my word, you sold me a dream and this is how it should be with a life of how you sale me a dream beside you”

Your distressed frame from his attack. His heartshappes on the side of the shaft of your neck as he kisses hungrily..

The machinery lowered with a boom guiding with the floor.

His massive arms captures you closer as your nipples are hard on his bare abs. He takes his teeth and caresses it over your weak spot.he takes your flesh in between his teeth and bites slightly his name filled his ears.

His length becoming monstrous and powerful richocheting up and down. Y/n fidgeting of the sensitivity her walls closing in on him.

The Korean salesman His tongue slips past his lips and saturates his saliva over the soft spot and making there way to her breasts. His suckling tracing shapes at the nipple of her erect right orb.

Lastly, a flesh deepen kiss guided toward your left flicking your boob and bouncing it back in place.

A acceleration getting more sloppy y/n moaned for the 45 year old man under her.

“I’m gonna cumm ahhh”

Lusted filled eyelashes toward her thick built.

“Cum for daddy you earned it”

He grinded in y/n”s flower as he felt her contracted around his throbbing member. Her euphoria was sending for her as her mind clouded with the sweat filled lucid sounds the salesman made pounded. you were close and so was he. Your body started shaking, getting lost in his thrusts, his lowly breaths picking up. Drilling her last insanity out of her.

Y/n could feel her ecstasy imminent to her core. She endured a few more rough digs. His cinnamon pointer finger and index finger on her neck enclose restriction from her inhale. As he talks you through your high did one more thrust and stayed in you he felt his high laced his board frame and then his robes of cum in your love box while booming a curse. y/n felt her hole fill with his warm sperm. your eyes gloomy and your facial expression of your mouth in awe tears stained cheeks as her oragasm shed on his mandhood.

She screamed as her ecstasy washed over. He knew his job was done. There breathing erotic.

“I’ll always protect you if you play the game”

His final breathes behind his statement

Y/n nodded leaving with her body with her soul still on earth by a man with a grey suit that shows her a different form of protection from death.

[howi99]

A Knight second chance 12

Jaune: (Tsk, it's taking too long! At this rhythm, Pyrrha's gonna get killed!) Hey, Pyr?

Pyrrha: Hm?

Jaune: *point to Mercury* Just letting you know, that the guy over there got 2 prosthetic legs.

Pyrrha: *perplexed* How-

Jaune: *point to the disguised Neo* I spoke with her. So anyway, he plans to fight you. Now, you remember what i said about using every advantage in a fight, right?

Pyrrha: B-but that wouldn't be fairplay and-

Jaune: *sigh* Pyrrha, do you really wish to be a huntress?

Pyrrha: *shocked* Wha- Yes! Of course i want!

Jaune: *taking her hands in his, looking at her straight in the eyes* Then... Why are you still holding back? Do you think the criminals will? Or the grimms?

Pyrrha: *Blushing madly* whu-..

Jaune: *sigh* Guess i'll have to teach you more. *Getting up* Miss Goodwitch, may i take the first fight?

Glynda: *surprised* I don't mind... This is the first time you volunteered yourself. *Frown* Is everything ok?

Jaune: *chuckle* Yes professor. I just want to show my partner how a huntsman should fight.

Everyone: *whispering between themselves*

Nora: *nodding to Yang with a smirk* Hey, you shouldn't be rude!

Jaune: *blinking* ... What?

Yang: *grinning* You know, she's right! How dare you say she doesn't fight like a huntress, uh?!

Jaune: ...! *Panicking* W-wait, no! That's not what i meant! Pyrrha's amazing, b-but she still holds back and-

Ren: Jaune.

Jaune: *looking at Ren* Uh?

Ren: *smirk* They are joking.

Jaune: ... O-oh, yeah, right. *Cough with a slight blush* I-in any case, i wish to fight you *point to Glynda* Professor!

Everyone: *silence... Then everyone starts talking at the same time*

Glynda: *annoyed* Silence! *Everyone shut up* Good. *Turn to Jaune* Now, why would you want to fight me instead of anyone else?

Jaune: *smiling* In the face of a stronger opponent, one needs to create their own advantage. I'm not expecting to win against you, but i want to show everyone how even the most powerful semblances can be overcome.

Glynda: *small smirk* Oh? Am i to assume you will use any trick necessary to that goal?

Jaune: *smirking* Of course. If it's to help my partner, i don't mind getting a bit rough.

*sound of something falling to the ground*

Nora: Uh... Jaune?

Jaune: ... That was Pyrrha, wasn't it?

Nora: Yep.

Jaune: *sigh* Anyway, maybe we should spar outside? And uh... Can someone help? I think i'd make it worse if i tried helping her.

Yang: *smiling* I'll go get some water! *whispering to Nora* because that girl is thiiiirsty~.

_ Outside _

Ruby: *vibrating with excitement* Oh gosh, we are going to see Professor Glynda fight! This is so awesome!

Pyrrha: *still a blushing mess* We held hands...

Nora: *nudging Pyrrha with her elbow* Hey Pyrrha, eyes on the ring!

Yang: *squinting her eyes* Wait... Weiss, did you give Jaune some of your dust?

Weiss: Yes, why?

Yang: How come you never share with us!?

Weiss: *deadpan* I did, once. And you used it all on your stupid bike.

Yang: Hey, her name is Bumblebee and-

Blake: Shhhh!

On the ring

Glynda: *looking at her students* Tsk. Maybe i should be stricter with them.

Jaune: *wearing his armor and a bunch of vial of dust* Well, can't blame kids for being kids, right?

Glynda: *looking at him* You are one of them you know?

Jaune: *flinch for a instant then smile* I guess i am. *Stretch* Well, for today i'll be your assistant teacher.

Glynda: *keeping note of that flinch* Hm...*taking position* Ready when- *gets blinded by Jaune's using thunder dust as a flashbang* !

Jaune: *already running to her, quickly mixing dust together* A huntsman should never lower their guards in a fight! *Dodge the disciplinarian, then slash at her twice* We rely on our senses to use our semblance, so the best way to win- *gets pushed back by Glynda's semblance* -is to have the element of surprise! *Throw an ice and fire dust vial near Glynda, a thick mist instantly forming to obstruct her vision further*

Glynda: *smiling* (He's good. Using my politeness to get the advantage.) You didn't follow the rules, Jaune. *Hearing him approaching from the right* Maybe you should be punished? *Use her semblance to condense the water in the air into needles, throwing them at Jaune, which blocks part of them with his shield*

Jaune: *apologetic smile* Sorry, just wanted to show them that real fights don't have rules. *Unsheathing his sword, starting to run at her* And i'm not done yet! *Using ice dust on the ground, making it slippery* Bad day for heels, don't you think?

Glynda: *trying to maintain her balance* What the-

Jaune: *slide, making her fall on the ground* The second thing you can use is your environment! *Gets on one knee then stab the ground with an earth crystal covered in plant dust, making the ground under them burst with roots, covering Glynda* Change it, mold it, make it yours!

Glynda: *chuckle while using her power to unroot everything around her* Not bad, not bad at all. *Aim at Jaune with a smirk* My turns now.

Jaune: *using gravity dust on himself to make himself heavier* The last part is aura management. *Taking position, placing his shield to protect his vitals* Everyone has limits, a point where they can't realistically fight at 100% even if they still have Aura.

Glynda: *begin her assault, throwing stones and roots at her student*

Jaune: *gritting his teeth, slowly but surely sliding out of the ring* Semblance uses Aura, you can bring them down with time! You don't need to rush! *His foot pass the borders limit* Ring out!

Glynda: *sweating, stopping her assault* That was.... That was good, very good even!

Jaune: *not moving*

Glynda: *worried* Mr Arc? Jaune?

Jaune: ... I used too much gravity dust, I'm stuck!

Back with the spectators

Ruby: *frotting at the mouth from the awesomeness*

Weiss: *looking at their aura reserve* 87% for Jaune and 68% for Glynda.

Yang: Damn, VB is good, right Pyr?

Pyrrha: ...

Nora: Pyrrha?

Pyrrha: ... *Looking at her hands* So he was holding back during our spar too...

Nora: *worried* A-are you ok?

Pyrrha: *having a... Weird smile and eyes* Eh, eh eh eh~

Yang: ... *Slowly pulling out another bottle of water and slowly giving it to Pyrrha* P-money, your thirst is showing.

Pyrrha: *snapping back to reality* O-oh! I'm Sorry!

Blake: ... By the way, did anyone see Ren?

Ren: *coming back with his pockets full of Liens* I'm here.

Weiss: *frowning* Where did you get that?

Ren: *shrug* Everyone was betting on low aura while i took the "risk" of taking the ring out.

Yang: Wait, there were bets?!

Ren: Yeah, team CRDL was making them when you were gone getting some water for Pyrrha. *Looking at Ruby* By the way, you won too, Ruby.

Ruby: *hearing the news, getting back to reality too* Woohoo! More part for Crescent Rose!

_ meanwhile _

Cinder: That kid...

Emerald: Should we be worried? He was the one who stopped Roman from stealing the cargo at the docks.

Cinder: ... I need to ask that old fool for more information on him. He could be... Useful, since our plans have changed...

[unknvhx]

locked in

colliding fwb!chris yet again, continuing to wrestle the tension you can’t seem to shake.

four hours later, you stood on chris’ porch, your fist clenched tight as you glared at his door. the night air felt heavy against your skin, or maybe that was just the weight of your simmering frustration. you didn’t want to be here. you didn’t want to see him. but he had your keys, and there was no way she was giving him the satisfaction of leaving them behind.

the door swung open before you could knock, revealing chris, in his sweatpants, his usual cocky smirk firmly in place. his eyes dragged over you in that infuriating, lazy way that always made you want to slap him—or worse, made your heart beat in you pelvis. his eyes dragged over you with that lazy, infuriating air of superiority, like you were nothing but a small inconvenience to him.

“fuck” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe. “look who finally decided to show up.”

“shut the fuck,” you snapped, your voice sharp, as you brushed past him into the house.

you heard the soft click of the door closing behind you, and then the steady sound of his footsteps as he followed you into the living room. your boots clicked loudly on the hardwood floor, adding to the tension in the air.

“i just want my keys.”

chris shut the door with a soft thud, his smirk widening as he leaned against the wall, watching you with that same lazy amusement in his eyes.

“always so sweet to me,” he muttered, sarcasm thick in his voice.

You turned sharply to face him, your eyes flashing with irritation.

“maybe if you weren’t such an asshole, i’d be nicer.”

“maybe if you weren’t such a brat, i wouldn’t have to be,” he shot back, his tone mocking, as he took a step toward you. the space between you both felt charged, like the air was thick with some unspoken tension neither of you was willing to acknowledge.

you clenched your jaw, trying to keep your anger under control. “i don’t have time for this. just give me my damn keys.”

“they’re right there.” chris gestured nonchalantly toward the coffee table, but he didn’t move to step out of your way. instead, he planted himself in front of you, blocking your path with that familiar cocky grin.

“what’s the rush, ma? afraid of spending too much time alone with me?”

“get over yourself ,” you spat, voice dripping with contempt.

you shoved past him with as much force as you could muster, your heart pounding in your chest as you grabbed the keys from the table. you could feel his eyes on you, hot and burning as you bent down, and it only fueled the fire inside you.

“you’re so wound up,” Chris murmured, his voice low, mocking. “what happened to that mouth you had earlier? you seemed real confident when you told me to fuck off.”

you spun around, fists clenching at your sides, every muscle in your body tensing with fury.

“you’re unbelievable.”

“and you’re predictable.” his tone shifted, darkening, the playful smirk falling from his lips as he took another step toward you.

“you come here acting all high and mighty, but we both know how this ends.”

“don’t start,” you warned, though the slight tremble in your voice betrayed the edge you were trying to maintain.

chris chuckled, a low, guttural sound that rumbled in his chest as he closed the space between you. He was too close, too familiar. “you don’t want me to start?” his hand reached out, brushing against your hip in a way that was almost casual, but you knew better. his fingers curled around your waist, pulling you closer, and the rawness in his eyes only deepened.

“then why are you still standing here?”

“because you’re in my way,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

your breath caught in your throat, and you hated yourself for it. you hated the way your body responded to him, how it seemed to betray you in the worst way. you fought to hold your ground, but your pulse raced, betraying you.

he stepped aside, that smug grin still plastered on his face, pride radiated from him, his ego practically glowing with annoyance. he knew exactly what he was doing, and you, despite every ounce of resistance, knew you couldn’t walk away. you froze, caught in that moment, torn between what you wanted and what you knew you should do. your eyes flicker between the door and chris’ lips, still curled into that infuriating smirk.

“so, what are you waiting for?” he asks, his voice low and sharp.

your eyes snap back to his, but before you can even open your mouth to respond, he slams his lips into yours, fierce and demanding. the kiss was full of teeth and heat, raw and unrelenting. you let him take control, your hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into his clothed back as your frustration and anger mingled in the kiss.

you stumbled backward, colliding with the couch, your bodies pressing together in a frantic tangle of limbs. his hands roamed over you, gripping your waist, sliding up your back, tangled in your hair as he pulled you down with him.

“i hate you,” you gasped, breathless, your body trembling.

“good,” he growled, biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to make you gasp.

“then stop pretending this is anything else.”

you didn’t stop, not even when your movements grew frantic and uncoordinated, when everything else seemed to blur. it wasn’t about affection. it wasn’t about love. but beneath the tension, there was something else, something faint, a flicker of something neither of you understood. neither of you could admit it, not yet, but it was there. you both let yourselves believe it was about dominance, proving a point.

as you and chris entangle on the couch, his strong hands grip your waist possessively, pulling you closer as he buries his face in your neck. his breath is hot against your skin, mingling with the scent of his cologne and the faint sheen of sweat that forms between your bodies. your hands roam over his muscular chest and abs, feeling the firmness beneath your fingertips. his lips trail along your collarbone, leaving a trail of hot, open mouthed kisses. he unhooks your bra with a swift, practiced motion, tossing it aside carelessly.

you arch into him as he cups your breasts, thumbs circling your hardening nipples. he takes one into his mouth, suckling and nipping gently. your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him flush against you, feeling his growing hardness through his jeans.

"still hate me?" he whispers against your lips, a cocky smirk playing across his face as he grinds into you. you nip at his bottom lip in response, digging your heels into his back. he chuckles darkly, one hand trailing down your stomach to the waistband of your pants.

“fuck you” you mutter, your words tangled in the heat of the kiss, as your body betrays the defiance in your voice.

"mouth's running again," he murmurs, hooking his fingers in your pants and slowly pulling them down. he tosses them aside, leaving you in just your underwear. he runs his hands over your thighs possessively, spreading them wider around his waist.

you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against you, even through his jeans. You look up at him with lust-filled eyes, unbuckling his belt and slowly unbuttoning his jeans. He lifts his hips to help you pull them down, revealing his boxers. his boxers and your last layers of restraint are discarded in one smooth, seamless motion. he fills you in a single, intense thrust, leaving you breathless, the sudden fullness making you gasp. his hands lock onto your hips, holding you firmly as he sets a slow, deliberate pace, each movement deep and controlled.

‘’fuck, you’re so big,” you gasp, your words breaking between moans as your body slowly adjusts to him, each movement making you tremble.

chills shoot through your body as he hilts himself deep inside you. his pace quickens, each thrust pushing you deeper into the cushions, the friction exquisite between your bodies.

he leans down, his breath hot against your ear. "you can take it"

your fingers dig into his back, your nails raking down his skin as he picks up the pace. you wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper with each thrust. he groans, his voice low and husky in your ear.

"fuck, you're so tight"

“you can take it,” your voice laced with a mocking edge, watching him with a challenging gaze, the air between us thick with tension. each word drips with defiance.

he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks down at you. he wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling your legs up higher on his shoulders. he starts to thrust deeper, hitting spots inside you that make you arch your back.

you throw your head back, a loud moan escaping your lips as he hits a particularly deep spot. his hands grip your ass, lifting you up and slamming you down onto his lap. the sound of flesh hitting flesh fills the room, mixed with your moans and his grunts. He leans back, pulling you with him, never breaking the rhythm. "ride me then’’

he murmurs, hooking his fingers in your pants and slowly pulling them down. he tosses them aside, leaving you in just your underwear. he runs his hands over your thighs possessively, spreading them wider around his waist.

you start to move, bouncing up and down on his lap, taking him deep inside you with each movement. he watches you, his eyes dark and intense, his hands guiding your hips. you feel his cock throbbing inside you, growing even harder with each roll of your hips. his control seems to slip as he surges forward, knocking you onto your back again. he pins your wrists above your head, looming over you with a fierce, hungry expression.

‘’fuck”

you gasp as he flips you over, the tight knot in your stomach twisting with each powerful thrust. your eyes roll back, your head tipping further as your hips instinctively arch into him, the intensity of every movement sending shockwaves through you.

‘’fuck, I’m close”

you breathe out, the words barely escaping as the pressure inside you builds, your body trembling with each deep thrust. the heat between you two intensifies, every movement pushing you closer to the edge. you skin feels electrified, every nerve alive with the sensation, and you can’t help but meet him with urgency, your hips grinding in sync, desperate for release.

he pounds into you relentlessly, his hips slapping against yours with each thrust. the headboard bangs against the wall, the sound echoing through the room. he releases one of your wrists to reach between your legs, rubbing your clit in harsh, rapid circles.

"come on, fucking soak my cock"

the words push you over the edge, and suddenly, your orgasm crashes through you, overwhelming your senses. your body trembles as the intense wave of pleasure rips through you, your bundle of nerves finally coming undone. your nails dig into his back, searching for something to hold onto as you shudder beneath him, breathless and caught in the aftermath. “shit,” you gasp, the pleasure still pulsing through your body as it slowly fades.

he continues to thrust through your orgasm, dragging it out as long as possible. feeling your walls clench around him, he loses control, slamming into you one last time before stilling, pouring himself into you. a primal sound escapes his throat as he collapses against your chest. "fuck."

when it was over, you both collapsed onto the couch, chest heaving, bodies slick with sweat, tangled together in the aftermath. you pushed yourself up, your limbs shaky as you reached for your discarded shirt. with a frustrated tug, you pulled it over your head, the motion sharp and irritated, as if the fabric couldn’t come fast enough to shield you from what just happened.

he pulls his shirt on, the fabric clinging to his sweat-slicked chest. he sits there, arm draped over the back of the couch, staring at nothing in particular. his mind is reeling, trying to make sense of the intensity of the moment.

“next time, don’t lose your keys,”

chris muttered, his voice low and rough, still laced with the remnants of tension. you glared at him, pulling the shirt over your head.

“next time, I’m not calling you.”

he smirked, leaning back into the cushions with that same infuriating ease. “sure, ma. whatever you say.”

you slammed the door behind you, but both of you knew the truth.

you’d be back.

wc: 2.8k

a/n: this is a continuation from texts with ★ fwb!chris. it’s abit long and my first ever smut piece so feedback and support would be greatly appreciated! thankyou so much for the likes and reblogs on the texts series!

if you want to be tagged in any future posts related to this pairing, fwb!chris pieces, or any work in general, comment or dm me <3

©unknvhx