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#so much *anvil dropped on head*
cleromancy · 1 year
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i think that dick grayson will say to people re jason being abrasive , difficult, a general pain in the ass, etc, "sorry about that, he has hysteria," and i also think that one of these days jason is gonna hit him with a bus
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pocket-lin · 5 months
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everyone say HI DAISY!!
we didn’t expect to have a new dog so soon but sometimes things line up and you just know ☺️ she’s 6 months old, some kind of bloodhound mix, and i loved her about 5 seconds after meeting her!!
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The aurora borealis?
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At this time of year? At this time of day? In this part of the country? Localised entirely within your ward?
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Hello my dear! So excited for Kinkfest! Could I please request praise kink & size kink with Mr. Sex-On-Legs himself, Billy Russo? 😍
Thank you so much for requesting, everyone seems to like size kink with this man!
Masterlist
A soft touch
Contains: Protective Billy, violence, oral sex (f receiving) fingering, P in V, fluff.
1.3K words
Billy is very gentle and sweet, at least with you he is.
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Billy was so proud, the charity auction you had put on for Curt's group had raked in more than enough to keep the doors open and butts in seats for months to come. To make matters even better, he got to stick to the rich assholes who acted like donating a few bucks on their out of the Anvil office was saving humanity.
He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulders as he whispered into your ear. "You did good tonight gorgeous."
You craned your head and kissed him, and his fingertips grazed your cheek as he spun around to pull you close. "You wanna get out of here?"
Billy grinned. "Fuck yeah."
He took her hand and led you outside, but before he could open the car a shout stopped you both in your tracks. "Hey, baby why don't you leave the pretty boy and have some fun with me?"
Billy went stiff as a board, placing you behind him so he could stand between you and the yelling man. "Billy, let's just go."
You didn't have time, the man was already swagging over, his drunk gate wobbling as he walked. You wrapped your hand around his upper arm and tried to pull him, but it made no difference. "You should listen to your girl buddy, you wouldn't want to embarrass yourself getting into a fight you can't win."
You tended to forget how tall Billy really was, how imposing his height could be with just a change in his mood because he never gave you a reason to notice it. "Go the fuck home, I won't ask again."
Damn alcohol and its effects because all the man did was laugh and rear his fist back. Billy didn't even need to think to stop it, he just dropped the man with one punch. He watched the man get up and hobble away, ignoring the string of obscenities that came from his mouth. He placed his hand on your lower back as he opened the car door and helped you inside. "Sorry about that gorgeous."
You reached out and grabbed his hand, looking over his bruised knuckles as he smiled down at you. "Are you alright?"
He nodded. "Yep, that guy was nothing."
He pushed your door closed and climbed into the driver's seat, kicking the car over as his hand found your tight. "Let's go home."
****
Billy placed his folded suit jacket over the chair back and cleaned his bruised hand in the sink before walking behind you and unzipping your dress. "Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?"
You nodded. "Twice."
He kissed a path from shoulder to shoulder across your upper back, ending up kissing a line from shoulder dome to neck until his lips were at your ear. "Then let me tell you again, you look beautiful."
Your dress fell to the floor, and he walked in front of you, stretching his hand out for you to take so you could step out of the pile. He walked you to the edge of the bed and paused, his eyes moving up and down your body to take in the lacy set of lingerie. "I'm am the luckiest man on the planet."
You unbuttoned his dress shirt as he slid the straps of your bra off your shoulders, licking his lips at the newly revealed skin when it hit the floor. He stilled for a moment, his fingers drifting down your chest until his thumb was circling a nipple with the softness of freshly fallen snow, and then the air caught, and his lips slammed into yours. There was a rush to shed the rest of your clothes, and then you were scurrying up the bed with Billy hovering over you.
He was rock hard, his long, thick cock standing attention as the tip leaked with his arousal. His lips were on yours again, all lust and heat and his massive hands grabbed at whatever flesh he could reach. It was hard to know where to touch, there was just so much of him that it left you spoiled for choice. His back rippled under your hands as you dug your nails into his skin when his lips sealed around a nipple, your head falling back into the pillows as heat filled you.
The other one got the same treatment and soon enough, he was pressing kissing all over your abdomen on his way further down. He lifted your legs over his shoulder and kissed every inch of your thighs that he could reach before looking up at you through his long eyelashes. "Can I?"
"Yes please."
You loved the way he held you when he did this, his forearm thrown over your hips, keeping you still while he licked at you like he wanted to win some prize and the other holding your thigh, his fingers pressing into the skin in indistinct patterns like he was typing out a code. A gasp caught in your throat as the hand on your thigh moved towards your centre, his fingers slipping under his lips as he slid them inside you.
His thumb replaced his mouth, and he looked up at you with a soft smile. "Does that feel good, Sweetheart?"
"Yes." His lips were back on you as he stroked your G-spot with his calloused fingertips as you wove your hands into his hair. Pleasure zipped up your spine with each pass of his tongue and curl of his fingers and you yanked his hair as he moaned against you. "Billy.." He groaned an affirmative, and you held him to you as you came, him riding the wave with you until your hips stilled against the bed.
He pulled away, wiping his face with the back of his hand before kissing a line up your body to your lips. He took your face in his face, resting his forehead against yours and smiled. "You're so good for me." You spread your legs and he settled between them, gripping his cock and rubbing it up and down your slit. "Can I?"
"Yes please." He didn't leave you waiting, sliding home with a grunt as he hiked your legs over his waist with one hand.
He buried his face in your neck as he started to rock his hips, his voice tight with pleasure as he spoke. "My good girl, I love you so much."
He shifted angles to hit your G-spot as he picked up sped, and you tilted your head to the side to give him more room to suck at your neck as he ran one hand downwards, between your bodies to rub your clit. His lips broke away from your flesh so he could gaze into your eyes, his face filled with affection as he watched your expression fill with pleasure. "Can you give me another one?"
You gasped and nodded with each hitch of his lips, and he smiled. "I know you can." Your nails dug into his back as the edge approached and he kissed you again, nibbling your lower lip as he pushed you into a spine snapping orgasm. "Good girl."
He shifted again, putting his weight onto his hands as he chased his high. With one last thrust, he collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving as he kissed you softly. He rolled off you, moving onto his back to take you with him so your head rested on his chest. "Thank you gorgeous girl."
You sighed. "I should be thanking you."
He smirked and pressed his lips to your temple. "No, you have no idea how much I love you."
You turned your head and pressed a kiss to his firm chest. "I do, and I love you too."
He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. "I'll run you a bath in a bit, I just want to hold you a little longer."
You laid your face on his cheek, and his eye fluttered closed. "I like the sound of that."
Fin
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mavsstar · 2 years
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。・゚𝐎𝐡 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫
Summary︱Ransom comes to spend the holidays with his twin brother, Andy and his fiancé. He can't stand her at all despite her being one of the sweetest people on the earth. Turns out all they needed was to bond.
Pairings︱Ransom Drysdale x Virgin!Fem!Reader, Andy Barber x Virgin!Fem!Reader
W.C︱2.8k
Warnings︱It's Ransom, that a big warning in itself, cursing, kissing, pet name: kitten, manipulation, slight coercion (if you blink you'll miss it), oral (f!), cheating, daddy kink
Author's note︱It's been too long and now I'm finally back! This was fun to make and I've had this idea in my head for weeks now! Have fun reading :) Feedback is appreciated!
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You adored your fiancé Andy, he was a kindhearted gentleman that loved you with his entire being. You couldn’t ask for more in a man. Everyone around him approved of you and liked you quite a lot.
Well most of them. 
The only person who couldn’t get on board was his twin, Ransom. Though the feelings were mutual. You thought he was too crude and he thought you were too much of a prude. Unlike him, you’ve never vocalized your dislike towards him, preferring to be kind to him even if you wanted to sew his mouth shut. 
The good part was you rarely got to see the man. You were safe from seeing his face anywhere you went. That was until Andy came home with a surprise. 
“Ransom is going to spend the holidays with us this year.” 
You froze. “Excuse me?” 
“There’s too much going on and I won’t be able to make it home this year and Ransom doesn’t want to go spend the holidays with the family,” Andy began to explain, “I don't want him to be alone so I invited him to stay with us.” 
“Which holidays?” You asked, hoping it would just be Thanksgiving. 
“All of them.” 
It felt like someone dropped an anvil on you. He was going to spend at least a month with you in your shared house, day and night. “And he said yes?” You questioned, surprised he even gave Andy an answer. 
“I was surprised too,” he answered. “He’s coming on Thursday.” 
It was Tuesday, meaning you only had a day to prepare. You dropped your shoulders in defeat. “I better start preparing the guest room,” you said as you got up from the couch. 
Andy grabbed your arm as you tried to walk past him, pulling you into his chest. He rested his chin on the top of your head. “Look I know you two aren’t the best of friends and it’ll be difficult but I want him here with us. Maybe after he really gets to know you, you’ll get along.”
“There’s a better chance of me growing another inch than us getting along.” 
Thursday came a little bit too fast for your liking. One moment you were talking with Andy about Ransom and within a blink of an eye you were at the airport, waiting for him. His flight landed 15 minutes ago and most of the passengers were already off. But he just had to make a fashionably late entrance. 
“There’s my little brother!” Ransom exclaimed. 
“You’re older by a minute,” Andy said as he got up from his seat. 
“A minute and 10 seconds.” Ransom’s answer made Andy playfully roll his eyes. Ransom then turned his attention to you, flashing you a fake smile. “Look who’s here! Did you shrink while I was away? I almost didn’t see you.” 
It was early in the morning. Even more so to be dealing with Ransom’s remarks. You resisted the burning urge to roll your eyes at him. “It’s nice to see you Ransom, I hope you had a nice flight.” 
“It was the absolute worst actually-” He began to complain but it all became white noise to your brain. You just nodded your head as he complained, occasionally saying that must’ve sucked just to make it seem like you were actually paying attention. 
For the first couple of days Andy was able to keep him busy and out of your way but he had to go back to work, leaving you with him all day. At first he would stay for only part of your day, often going out to do something other than being in the house with you. Eventually he just stayed around the house more and more. 
“Are you seriously reading again?” Ransom asked as he plopped down next to you on the couch. 
You quickly tore your gaze from your book to look at Ransom. “Mhm,” you hummed in confirmation, going back to reading your book. 
“Weren’t you just reading this morning?” He asked. 
“I was finishing the last couple of pages. Andy doesn’t like it when I lose sleep to finish reading,” you answered. “This is a different book.” 
“Can I see?”’ He asked with complete sincerity. You then handed him the book only for him to throw it across the room, earning a small ‘Hey!’ from you. “Well stop reading, I’m bored.” 
“What do you want to do?” You asked him as you fully turned your body towards his. 
“If I knew what to do I wouldn’t be here, telling you I’m bored.” 
You decided to ignore his comment and pretend like he never said it in the first place. “Well…we could go grocery shopping.” 
“Grocery shopping? Really?” He questioned, unamused at your suggestion. Much to his dismay, he saw that you were 100% serious. “Fine, let's go.” 
The drive to the grocery store was longer than necessary. Ransom refused to let you drive, part of you figured it was an ego thing but he claimed that a man should always drive. Never the woman. He also refused to use a map, claiming that he knew where he was going. 
After 25 minutes of driving in circles, you finally got to the grocery store. It was practically empty, not a lot of people wanted to do their weekly grocery shopping at 7:27 pm. 
“Now that I’ve been thinking about it, you’re always at the house,” Ransom commented. “Do you not have a job?” 
“Not anymore,” you said as you pushed the cart towards the dairy section. “I used to be a secretary.” 
“Why’d you quit?” 
“Andy said I didn’t have to work anymore and he would take care of me.” You grabbed a gallon of milk and crossed it off your mental grocery list. You started to push the cart down the section towards the produce. “It was too overwhelming for me and Andy didn’t like that I was so stressed out.” 
“How hard can that be?” Ransom scoffed. 
“It’s a lot harder than you think Ransom,” you replied. “It didn’t help that I was one of the few women there. I had a terrible boss.” 
“What do you do all day then? Just sit there and look pretty while you wait for Andy to come home?” 
“I clean, run some errands, go out—I do the same things you do but you don’t seem the type of person to clean or run errands.” 
“Why would I?” He scoffed. “That's why I hired a maid and an assistant to do all that for me.” 
“Not surprised trust fund baby,” you muttered under your breath. 
“What did you say?” Ransom asked, having fully heard you. 
You looked up at him, “Oh nothing,” you lied, you even went as far as to pull out doe eyes. “Oh we need bread!” 
 “No, no, no,” Ransom repeated as he grabbed your upper arm, halting you from moving any further. “Repeat what you said.” 
“I said we need bread.” 
“Before that.” 
“I said nothing,” you answered, unknowingly pushing his buttons in the sweetest way imaginable. 
His hand traveled up your upper arm to your cheeks, slightly squishing them together as he inched closer to your face. You could feel his breath fanning over your lips.
“Kitten, repeat what you said, I’m not going to ask again.” 
Your lips parted open but no sound came out. You felt heat pooling from the pit of your stomach rising to your face. You tried to peel your eyes away from his only for him to chase after them. 
“I-I said, not surprised trust fund baby,” you mumbled loud enough so he could hear it.  
The corner of his lip tugged into a sly smirk, “See now was that so hard?” He asked as he dropped his hand. “Good girl.” 
Ransom evoked a spark inside him that night. He noticed how your body went hot under his touch and he loved it. It was as if you have been untouched and you’re just now tasting a man’s touch. You would grow shy under his gaze if he stared at you for too long. You would jump every time his hands brushed your body. 
Ransom’s favorite part was when he would inch his face close to yours and your eyes would dart to his lips right before going back to his eyes. 
Though part of him couldn’t help but think it was all an act. There was no possible way a woman like you could be so innocent. That you would pretend to get flustered everytime he made a sexual innuendo. That you would get uncomfortable and squirm in your seat everytime a sex scene came on. 
It had to be an act. 
Like right now, you were in the kitchen cooking food for you and Ransom. You were wearing Andy’s sweater with a pair of small pj shorts and Ransom had made a crude comment. 
“You and Andy must've had crazy kitchen counter sex if that’s what you wear to cook.” 
“Oh my,” you squeaked out. “We don’t–uh–Andy and I-” 
“Oh please drop the act,” he scoffed.
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “What act?” 
“That!” Ransom exclaimed. “The pretending you’re all innocent and being such a fucking prude. Everyone has sex, it’s normal.” 
Except you haven’t had sex yet. You always wanted to wait until marriage for personal reasons and Andy didn’t mind one bit. He completely respected your decision and liked the idea of waiting, it’s building tension the two of you would unleash on your wedding night. 
“It’s not an act Ransom,” you answered. “I just don’t feel comfortable talking about…it.”
“You’re kidding me right?” He remarked. He took your silence as a no. Then the realization slowly crept in his mind. “Unless…” 
“Unless what?” You questioned. 
“Unless you’re a virgin? But that’s impossible…right?” His tone was teasing and almost humiliating. 
You felt the shame burn your cheeks and you imagined the words ‘virgin’ written in big red bold letters across your forehead. People have assured you that it’s okay to be a virgin and everyone takes life at a different speed. You were just getting comfortable with it. 
“Answer me kitten.” 
“Yes,” you whispered, looking down at your feet. 
Ransom swallowed the last 4 steps that were between the two of you. His right hand went under your chin, softly lifting it up. “So he’s never touched you?” Ransom asked as his left hand slowly began to graze your body. 
“No.” Your breath hitched when his large hand rested on your hip, pulling you flush against him. You bumped into his chest with a soft grunt. His hands went to your back when he felt you shift backwards, caging you against him.
“Please let me go Ransom,” you softly pleaded as you tried to pry him off. 
“No,” he said as his head dipped to your neck, placing fervent kisses. “You want this and you know it.” 
“No–ngh–I can’t do this to Andy.” 
Ransom stopped the attack on your neck. You could see it in his face that he was bothered at the mention of his twin brother. “We’re not doing anything bad, kitten. We’re just having fun, you want us to get along, don’t you?” 
“This is bad Ransom, I’m cheating on my fiance,” you protested. “I can’t do this.” Ransom had you in his grip and he wasn’t going to lose you. He refused to. 
“Andy’s cheating on you,” he blurted out. 
“What?” You questioned him. 
“It’s obvious, kitten. How else was he going to stay with you? He’s a man after all and men have needs.” 
"You’re lying,” you argued. “Why should I believe you?” 
“Because I’m his brother and I know the type of person he is.” His hands went underneath your sweater, slithering their way up to your breasts. “So I think we can have some fun. It wouldn’t be fair after all.” 
Ransom’s lips crashed onto yours before you could give an answer. You tasted like the strawberries you were eating just mere minutes ago. With every passing second, his kisses grew hungrier. 
“Jump,” he whispered against your lips. You obeyed and lifted yourself off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist. He blindly stumbled into your bedroom. Carefully, he set you on the bed and unbeknownst to you, he had taken off your shorts and panties in one swift motion. 
His warmed calloused hand went to your thighs, spreading them as fast apart as he could. You were completely soaked. Ransom bit back a moan. “Oh kitten,” he purred. “I can’t wait to ruin you.” Ransom planted open mouth kisses on your ankle, working his way up to your inner thighs. Your head felt dizzy and your body was high off of his touch. When you felt Ransom kiss your cunt, you knew you were a goner. 
“Ransom,” you moaned out. 
“That’s not my name kitten,” Ransom murmured. He looked up at you through his eyelashes as he licked around your pussy lips. “It’s daddy. Now say it.” 
“Please daddy,” you whined. 
“If you stop saying it, I stop. Got it?” 
You rapidly nodded your yes, not trusting your own voice. You let out a strangled moan as Ransom licked a broad stripe against your pussy. 
“You taste so fucking sweet,” Ransom let out a moan of satisfaction, sending vibrations through you, making it more pleasurable than you ever imagined. 
Incoherent babbles left your mouth as he made precise, figure eights on your clit. You couldn’t help but lock your legs around his head, never wanting him to leave. You lazily propped yourself up on the bed to watch Ransom but it all went out the window when his lips sucked on your clit. 
“Oh my god!” You shrieked, your head falling back on the mattress. “Daddy! Feel s’good!” 
Ransom momentarily lifted his head, watching your blissed out state. “I know it does kitten,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “Andy could never make you feel like this huh?” 
“No.” 
“I wonder how he would feel that I’m eating his pretty fiancé’s pussy? Making her scream daddy.” Ransom dipped his head back down and went at it again.
 His tongue goes through your fold, licking all your sweet wetness. You felt a familiar sensation only this time it was coming faster and harder. This felt nothing like this when you would play with yourself. 
“Oh daddy!” You screwed your eyes shut as you gripped the sheets. Your lower half took a mind of its own as you began to rock your hips against his face, chasing your high. A gasp fled your lips as you felt your orgasm wash over you. Suddenly the only word you knew was daddy, repeating it as if it was a prayer. 
“How was that, kitten?” Ransom teasingly asked. “Did daddy make you feel good?” 
“Mhm,” you blissfully hummed out. “S’good.” 
“That’s my girl,” Ransom praised as he pulled your shorts back up. “You did so good for me.” Ransom enjoyed watching you, you were spaced out and he didn’t even put his all into it. He could only begin to imagine how you would react when he really got done with you. 
“Now let's go finish cooking before Andy comes home.” He kissed you lips one more time before helping you off the bed.
Andy surprisingly came home earlier than he said he would. Usually would come home at 12, it was currently 10:06 pm. You had barely finished washing the dishes when you heard the door unlock.
“Hi honey!” Andy greeted you as walked over to kiss you. You turned your head to the side and his lips collided with your cheek. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned at your behavior. 
“Nothing,” you answered. “I’m heading off to bed, I’m really tired. I’ll see you in the morning.” 
“Goodnighttt,” Ransom sang as you left the room. 
“Goodnight Ransom.” 
Andy waited until you left the room to talk to Ransom. Once he saw he was in the clear, he turned to Ransom. “What the hell did you say to her?” 
“Nothing, why?”  Ransom asked, playing the innocent. “Trouble in paradise?” 
“Drop the act Ransom.” Andy stepped closer to him, placing his hands on his hips. “We were fine a couple days ago and now she’s acting weird. What did you do to her?” 
“I did nothing,” he said as he raised his hands in defense. 
Andy knew he was lying. If he really was telling the truth, he would’ve told him off and stormed off cursing at how his own brother doesn’t believe him. 
“Stay away from her,” Andy seethed through gritted teeth. “Don;t even think about laying a finger on her.” 
“Or what? You’re going to kick me out?” Ransom scoffed. “I saw her first and you took her away from me. I’m simply getting back what’s mine.” 
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e-dubbc11 · 7 months
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To Love You More
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Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.
Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader
Warnings: mentions of Billy’s abandonment, love confessions, maybe a swear word or two, fluffy bunnies and unicorns
Word Count: 2.3K-ish
Summary: Billy shows up at your apartment drunk. You’re surprised at what he has to tell you.
A/N: Based off of the song To Love You More by Celine Dion (don’t you judge me 🤣, the violin in it is really pretty) Sunday mornings are my alone time so I was food prepping and serenading my dog when the song came on so I continued to sing to her and this idea popped in my head. I hope you like it ♥️
As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕
The three loud raps against your door startled you.
The noise scared you bad enough to cause you to toss some of your popcorn onto the floor. You managed to regain control of your wine glass before you dropped that onto the floor too. Pausing the movie, you placed the bowl and wine glass onto the coffee table and cautiously walked over to the door.
The clock on the microwave read 1:25 AM.
The three knocks came again along with a voice you recognized. “B-baby you awake?” He boomed from the other side of the door.
“Billy? Is that you?” You asked, relaxing a little when you heard your boyfriend’s voice.
“C-can y-you lemme in s-sweet girl? P-please? I-I f-feel like I’m gonna f-fall over.” He slurred.
Oh boy…
Billy had an event for his company, Anvil, tonight. As CEO, he had to make an appearance but by the sounds of it, he stayed a little longer than he probably should have.
Your relationship with Billy was still somewhat new; he hadn’t asked you to accompany him to one of these events yet and you were using the term “boyfriend” loosely.
The two of you spent a lot of time together but you just assumed he didn’t want to put a label on it and you couldn’t shake the feeling you were just setting yourself up for a heartbreak because you knew a lot of men like Billy…and dated them. They didn’t have relationships or want them; they just played with you until they were ready to move on.
But unless Billy was an exceptionally good actor, he really seemed like he was having a lot of fun with you and in turn, you were having a lot of fun with him. More than anything, you wanted this relationship to work because he made you feel loved even if he hadn’t said it out loud.
You opened the door. Billy stood leaning against the doorframe; his tie was loose around his neck. Normally perfectly styled, his ebony colored hair was slightly tousled and grazed the top of his eyebrows, and the top buttons on his crisp white dress shirt were undone. He still looked incredibly handsome.
Billy’s cheeks were flushed from the chilly winter air as he greeted you with that familiar million-dollar smile. His eyes were halfway open and you could still smell the bourbon on his breath as he pinched your chin and gave you a slightly sloppy kiss.
“W-well don’t you look a-adorable!” He exclaimed.
You chuckled a little and bit back a smile because you were just wearing pajama pants and a ribbed tank top. It wasn’t anything special.
“I-I had that work th-thing tonight.” He said, gliding into your apartment and trying not to lose his balance. “I-I might ha-have had a little tooooooo much to drink.”
“Yes, it does seem like you had one too many.” You said, biting back a slight smile. “Come on, lieutenant. Can you make it over to the couch?”
Billy started to carefully walk over to the couch when he looked down and noticed your spilled popcorn.
“Y-you sp-spilled some, baby. Oh shit…d-did I sc-scare you when I knocked on the d-door?” He asked, trying his best to not slur his words.
“A little.” You replied. “But it’s ok. What are you doin’ here, Billy?”
After removing his jacket, you helped Billy sit down. His long, slender fingers grazed the skin of your lower back when he lifted the hem of your tank top as he planted himself on your couch. Shivers danced up and down your spine while goosebumps sprinkled across your exposed skin. His touches always burned your skin in the most delightful way, every time.
“I-I just missed youuuuu. Y-you shoulda come w-with me tonight. Oh, I-I probably should have asked you to come with m-me.” He said, nervously.
It had to be the alcohol making him say all this but it made your heart swell to hear that he missed you.
Making sure he was seated firmly on the couch, you tried to let go of his hand to walk away. “I’m gonna get you some water and ibuprofen, I’ll be right back.”
Billy didn’t let go of your hand.
“I scared y-you tonight, huh. I g-guess I just scare everyone. Anyone that tries to get close, I p-push them away. I p-pushed my mother away too, ya know. Sh-she didn’t want me either.” He said, his voice a little steadier.
Billy didn’t talk much about his childhood. You knew he was a product of the system but he didn’t elaborate on that after he told you. That was the first time he had ever mentioned his mother to you.
Crouching down in front of him, you looked into his eyes, brushed the bristles of his beard with your thumbs and replied, “You haven’t pushed ME away, baby. I’ll always want you.”
With his other hand, he pushed back the hair that had fallen into his eyes so he could get a better look at you. His mouth split into a shy smile as he leaned in to touch his forehead to yours. The scent of bourbon was on his lips as he softly pressed them against your freshly cleansed skin and you inhaled the aroma of his spicy cologne.
“I-I don’t want to push you away, my love. I’ve waited a long time for you.” Whispered Billy. “Y-you let me be…me. I love you, y/n.”
Billy didn’t know what he was saying; he couldn’t have meant that. The alcohol flowing through his veins clearly allowed him to talk freely and tell you things that he never told anyone else. You thought maybe he would later regret doing that but it was too late now.
“Ok, you’ve had a lot more to drink than I thought and I know you don’t mean that but I’ve told you before, you can always be yourself with me, Billy. I will never judge you.” You said in barely more than a whisper as his eyelids became heavy and you coaxed him to swing his legs up onto the couch. “Lie back for me, baby. Thaaaaat’s it…”
“No, I really do mean it y/n!” Said Billy, in a slightly elevated tone.
“Oooooook, time to get some sleep, soldier.” You replied, playfully.
He was asleep before his head hit the pillow. His lean body was fully stretched out with one hand resting on his chest, the other was draped off the side with his knuckles barely skimming the floor as you gingerly covered him with a blanket.
Before turning off the living room lamp, you watched Billy sleep for a few minutes, stroking his handsome face with your knuckles and you warmed his skin as you lightly pressed your lips to his cheek and then to his lips.
He didn’t move.
In the gathering darkness, before going to your bedroom, you whispered in Billy’s ear, “I’m always here for you, Billy. I love you too…goodnight my love.”
Your pillow cradled your head as you stared up at the ceiling, thinking about Billy’s confessions to you that left you wondering if he meant any of what he had said and would he remember any of it? If you were to put any money on it, you would have said he wouldn’t remember any of it, deny that he even said anything, or blame the alcohol and he didn’t mean a word of it.
Before drifting off to sleep, a slight smile stretched across your lips. He came to you wanting nothing more than to tell you that he missed you, that he wanted you by his side tonight and upset with himself that he didn’t ask. With zero hesitation, you would have said yes.
Well…there was always next time.
**********
Your eyes lightly fluttered opened and closed again as the mattress dipped underneath you. A warm body spooned up behind you and Billy kissed your bare shoulder. A handful of hours must have passed as the early morning sky was just starting to lighten. He must have stripped down to his boxer briefs because you felt his skin touch yours as his long arms wrapped around your waist.
Humming into your ear, he kissed the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. You loved when he did that and a soft moan of his name escaped your lips as a reflex.
“Mmmmm…Billy.” You said.
Billy buried his head into your neck like a cat, desperately wanting to be as close as he possibly could to you. He gripped you tightly, possessively like he was afraid to let you go as he purred into your ear, “You meant it, right baby? That you’ll always be there for me?”
In the liquid darkness, you turned to face him. You couldn’t see him with the exception of some of his features. His lips were close to yours as he repeated, “I heard you. You said you’d always be there. I’m not making that up, right?”
Slowly, you extended your hand, reached for him, and started to gently rake your nails against his scalp as you replied, “Of course, Billy. As long as you want me, I’m here baby.”
“As long as I want you?” He questioned. “As long as YOU want ME!” He said.
Billy’s lips crashed against yours, his hands tightly gripped your waist, your lips parted as his tongue slipped into your mouth, wanting to tangle with yours. His raven colored hair glided in between your fingers and you could feel a trace of his smile against your lips as he continued to kiss you in the softly filtered glow of your bedroom.
After and holding you in a firm embrace, he told you about his mother and it wasn’t a mystery anymore of why he didn’t trust people, or why he didn’t let anyone get too close. He was afraid of being abandoned again.
Billy never wanted to feel the way he did standing outside that fire station, a scared little boy wondering what he did wrong for his mother to leave him and never come back. It wasn’t his fault and you made sure to tell him that he did not push her away. That was all her doing.
As he spoke, you wondered if Billy could ever completely forgive his mother for what she did. And if he could, he’s a much better person than you are because you could never forgive her for that. The dull ache in your chest persisted as you felt your heart break for him.
Billy was a child, he didn’t deserve to be treated that way, but she earned everything she got in return. She didn’t deserve a second chance, not after abandoning her own child like she did.
The stars slowly disappeared as the sky started to brighten. And in that early morning light, you could finally see Billy’s dark eyes fixed on yours, like he was waiting until he could actually see you to say what he wanted to say next.
“I know you thought I was too drunk or that I didn’t mean it but I do mean it, sweet girl. I love you. I’ve never told anyone about her except you because I feel like—“ Billy said then paused.
It was a struggle for him to tell you how he really felt but he was trying and you could never fault him for wanting to be better.
He continued.
“I feel like I can…trust you.”
Love and trust…those were two things Billy never thought he’d ever experience. You’ve never given him a reason not to trust you. He said it earlier…”You let me be…me.” If he wanted to talk, you would let him and no matter how much or how little he wanted to say, that was enough for you.
Even though he had trouble verbalizing how he was feeling, he would show you how much he cares with a surprise cup of coffee at work in the middle of the day, or a donut from the place down the street because you “like their sprinkles,” a walk in the park on a warm sunny day, or reading to you because he knows you love listening to his voice.
Those were just a few of the ways Billy Russo expressed his feelings for you. Deep down in the pit of your stomach, you knew he meant what he said. Those three little words he never expressed until tonight…to anyone.
Feeling the warmth of his skin, you inched closer to him and his gentle exhale brushed against your lashes; you gave him a warm smile and gently pressed your lips to his.
“I love you too, baby. And you can trust me that no one will ever love you more than I do.” You said softly against his lips.
The night blackened window of your bedroom had started to brighten with the sun attempting to break through the small space in between your curtains as you held each other in silence.
Sometimes words weren’t always necessary. Actions speak volumes and really attest to someone’s feelings and intentions toward you. Putting his trust in you helped to pick up the pieces of Billy’s broken heart and carefully put it back together again.
Billy didn’t say anything else and he didn’t have to. The way his lips crushed against yours, how he lovingly kissed every inch of you, his fingers tracing all the curves and hollows of your body, and how gentle he was when he caressed your face…there wasn’t any doubt in your mind now that Billy Russo adored you, that he only wanted to be with you, and more than anything, that he loved you.
I’ll be waiting for you
Here inside my heart
I’m the one who wants to love you more
You will see I can give you
Everything you need
Let me be the one to love you more
Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf
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sbdskate · 1 year
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Laws Of Attraction (Part 7) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader
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Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers
Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo
Warnings (18+): fluff, language, slight angst, alcohol consumption, hangovers, sexual themes, self-pleasure, references to sexual activities, NSFW
Word Count: 5,209
A/N: Thank you for your patience while I took a bit of a break. Hopefully it won’t be as long while I finish up *the last part (*hopefully but no promises - iykyk). I hope you enjoy, please don’t be a ghost reader! Constructive criticism is always welcome <3
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue 1
Daniel woke up the next morning feeling like an anvil dropped on his head. He cursed the alarm but was thankful he had the foresight to set one. It was a tall order trying to sort through the details of the night before. He had his phone, keys, and wallet, so that was a win at least. What time had he gotten back to the hotel? He recounted the most peculiar dream that you had been in his room at one point – he reminded himself to lay off the melatonin, it always made his subconscious mind run wild. It took every ounce of energy to push himself upright, swinging his legs to the side of the bed at a glacial pace. Fighting the throbbing in his head, he almost missed the pills and water on the nightstand and a trash bin next to him on the floor. Drunk Daniel had never been so thoughtful or organized. Maybe it wasn’t melatonin after all. Those familiar butterflies he felt every time he thought of you fluttered away.
On second thought, definitely not butterflies.
After unceremoniously emptying the contents of his stomach, he gladly consumed the gifts you had left for him. He took a much longer shower than usual, doing his best to wash away the anxiety brought on by his hangover. He was going into the last race weekend of the year (maybe two) feeling like absolute shit. The thought of you putting him to bed initially made him giddy but it was overshadowed by fear of the unknown. His memory of the night before was fuzzy at best and but for the physical evidence you left behind, he would have gone on believing the kiss in Brazil was the last time the two of you interacted. Fuck, he had made such a fool of himself. What else had he inadvertently said or done last night? If you had walls up before, you probably now also had a moat, barbed wire, and trained militia on guard. In his efforts to get closer to you, you ended up pushing him away. You were the sun and he was Icarus.
But clearly all was not lost if you had helped him in his hour of need. If he could trust his “dream,” you had called him your friend. You had worn his clothes. You insinuated there would be a world where the two of you would be alone in a bedroom again. If all true, the culmination of those things did not add up to a person who wanted to completely shut him out. Then again, maybe that was you simply being you – that is, a good person who would show the same compassion to anyone whether they were your lover, friend, or stranger on the street.
He hadn’t had this lack of confidence picking up girls since he was an awkward teenager. From the beginning you had been a puzzle. You did not immediately fawn over him and fall victim to his charms. He sensed you may have even disliked him upon your first meeting, though he couldn’t blame you – he had severely underestimated you. Thereafter, every one of your laughs was hard earned which made them all the more sweet. You were accomplished in your own right and impressing you was a tall order, but when he succeeded it felt as though he had won Monaco a million times over.  
He thought back to Austin. So much had gone wrong, but so much had gone oh so right. There was an ease about you that weekend that he had only previously been privy to in staccato bursts. Whatever internal struggle you had been fighting seemingly slowed, allowing him to peel back all your layers. Even in that sad corridor, he could’ve sat next to you in silence for all of eternity and he would have been happy.
Then there was that pesky elephant in the room. In just a few days, he technically wouldn’t be your client anymore. He could get lost in all the tempting possibilities, but he had to stay focused. He’d cross that bridge later. Until then, all he had to do was stay in your good graces.
-
When the day came for your first client meeting in Abu Dhabi, you weren’t sure what version of Daniel you were going to get. You wouldn’t be surprised if he froze you out again like he did after Austin. It would be disappointing but understandable. You had explained yourself more than enough at this point though, and the position you found yourselves in wasn’t your fault. Nobody could have predicted that your client would fall for you when you were selected as counsel for the driver.  You couldn’t control his response, and if you reasserting your boundaries made him that upset then so be it.
No, there were no nerves this time but there was still an underlying anxiety that caused your heart to race. The partner was waiting at the offsite dinner location when you arrived. It was an elegant restaurant, so you had selected a pretty but conservative wrap dress for the occasion.
“Y/n, so glad you could make it,” he said as he extended his arms for a small hug.
“Me? I’ve been at every race weekend, not sure where you’ve been,” you teased.
“I know, I know, it’s been busy. I appreciate all your hard work through this. I’ve told the managing partner about your efforts, we’re all very impressed.” You couldn’t help the growing smile on your face, but you did your best to hide the absolute giddiness swelling in you. That bonus was yours to lose at this point and if this trajectory continued, you could make partner by the time you were 35.
“Thank you for the recognition, but I’m just doing my job,” you feigned in modesty. You knew how many hours of sleep you’d lost over the course of the last few months between the work itself and the constant travel. You knew how much you missed your friends and family during this time, and the other countless sacrifices you’d made along the way. But you would do it all over again for the once in a lifetime opportunity. And you never would have met Daniel - that certainly counted for something. Maybe after last week your relationship wouldn’t be the same going forward, but his companionship until now had offered you an unexpected fulfillment that felt foreign.  
Then, as if someone had read your mind:
“She’s being modest,” you heard behind you, a hand resting on your shoulder. You turned to see him in nice slacks, a crisp white t-shirt, and sport coat. For someone that was probably fighting for their life this morning and suffered through a long media day, he cleaned up very nicely. You did your best not to openly ogle, though he caught the quickened rise and fall of your chest. You couldn’t help but smile back when he gave you his signature grin.
“Daniel, great to see you,” Joe said as he extended his arm past you to shake his hand.
“Likewise, nice of you to finally show up.” His tone and features were so pleasant that he could pass off the genuine dig as jest. Either way, the partner was unphased.
“Well, that’s why I brought in my very best associate to help me out as back up.”
“I suppose I should consider myself lucky then,” he said, smiling back at you. “Though, I don’t think I would call her ‘back up’by any means.”
The familiar heat rose to your cheeks as you bit your lip to unsuccessfully suppress your bashful smile. You gently elbowed him to convey your thanks. Both for defending you but also for the normalcy of the interaction.
You anticipated a level of awkwardness after your nondescript rejection in Brazil, thinking he would try to distance himself as he had after Austin. You wouldn’t fault him if he sat next to Joe, but he plopped down right next to you as though nothing had happened. An unexpected wave of relief washed over you. It seemed clear that you were “good”, whatever that meant. Sure, it helped to have Joe there as a buffer, but the two of you would have probably been fine on your own. The thought gave you solace.
The uneventful meal concluded with a plan of action in place for the rest of the weekend. The three of you made your way out of the restaurant towards the valet.
“I hope the two of you will enjoy the weekend at least until we complete the signing on Monday? Consider it a thank you.” It wasn’t the first time you’d heard that line before, but it felt different this time.
“I’ll have to take some calls here and there, but sure, why not,” Joe responded, oblivious to the fact that the message was hardly meant for him.
“Good, I’ll make sure you guys have your paddock passes for the next few days.”
Of course as if on cue the partner’s phone went off as you exited the restaurant.
“I’m sorry, I have to take this. But hey, great dinner. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“Yep, have a good night,” you trailed off as he walked away, smiling through gritted teeth. You watched as he got into the corporate car by himself already focused on something else entirely, even though you were all going back to the same place.
“Typical.” You turned to Daniel, surprised at his observation.
“Could you tell?”
“Seems like we both have bosses who abandon us.” You smiled.
“What an unfortunate bonding experience.”
It was a heavy conversation, but the air was light. You both giggled at your misfortunes. When it died down, he broke the silence.
“Uh, thanks for making sure I was… accounted for last night.”
“Oh,” your cheeks dusted pink. You had such high hopes he wouldn’t remember. Maybe there was still a chance, perhaps Lando had simply filled him in. “Sure, no biggie. It happens to the best of us.”
“I didn’t do or say anything embarrassing, right?” Daniel tested the waters, partially playing dumb. His memory may be fuzzy, but he knew enough. You pursed your lips together.
“Nothing more than usual,” you said with a smile, playing it off. He felt slightly disappointed. He wished you would admit to the kiss along with the hopes you’d bestowed upon him – but maybe it was just in his head after all. Either way, you didn’t seem entirely comfortable with the conversation and that was a clear enough message to him. He knew what he needed to do.
“Can I just say,” he paused. He might need to go back inside for another drink. “- that I’m sorry. For everything. You’re just here trying to do your job, and I’m not making it easier for you. You’ve said no, and I keep trying dumb shit. I should have stopped.”
Your chest tightened. The apology was somehow welcome, appreciated, and warranted. But you also found it endearing which made you like him even more. And it also probably meant that he had lost interest and that last part didn’t make you feel great either. You wanted to tell him everything but doing so would only complicate things. Instead you bit your tongue and gave a polite smile.
“Thank you. Apology accepted.”
“No, thank you. I’ve made an ass of myself over and over again and you put up with it.”
“Well. I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from my first celebrity client, but ‘ass’ was certainly in the realm of possibility,” you said cheekily. “Nothing I wasn’t prepared for.” The lie slipped easily through your teeth.
“So you assumed I was going to be an ass?” he asked with a laugh.
“What did Drive to Survive call you guys? ‘Talented, rich, and cocky’?” He crossed his arms over his chest defensively, but his face was still warm and welcoming.
“Don’t tell me you watch that garbage.”
“For research purposes, obviously,” you said sarcastically.
He watched your eyes twinkle and the sly grin that graced your features as the desert wind gently blew your hair around your face, framing it perfectly. You fixed the strand he so badly wanted to tuck behind your ear yourself. Your wrap dress fluttered just so, allowing him to catch a quick glimpse of your upper thigh, contrasting the otherwise modest outfit. He wondered what it would be like to tug at the delicate bow at the side of your waist that kept the whole ensemble together. He caught himself in the middle of his thoughts.
“Since your boss left you stranded, can I give you a ride back?” You looked around, a serious look on your face. You whispered in a low voice.
“Is that… appropriate? I know men and women aren’t supposed to be alone together here.” He wanted to laugh but didn’t want to make you feel bad. Of course the lawyer wanted to follow everything to a T. He knew from experience that the morality laws were loosely enforced at best, but he wasn’t sure how much of that was attributed to his own privilege.
“If it makes you feel any better, I could pretend to be your chauffeur.” The line earned him a laugh.
“An F1 driver as a chauffeur. That’s rich.” He smiled, satisfied with his efforts to put you at ease.
“So is that a yes?”
“Yeah, but the expectations are pretty high.”
“You’ll have to let me know if I have a backup career as a personal driver if this whole F1 thing doesn’t work out.”
The valet pulled around an unassuming black SUV with tinted windows. Without skipping a beat, he opened the back passenger’s seat door waiting for you with an extended hand dipping into an exaggerated bow.
“Your chariot, m’lady.”
“Oh my, what service,” you contrived dramatics with a hand over your heart. Your other hand graciously accepted his while getting into the car. The familiar pulsating electricity coursed through the touch and lingered as you watched him close the door.
“Home Jeffrey,” you said, donning the worst British accent you could muster when he settled in the drivers seat. He peered at you in the reflection of the rearview mirror. You looked relaxed and happy, and that was enough for him. Your eyes locked, and you caught a glimpse of those dimples that could melt polar ice caps.
It was a comfortable ride back to the hotel, a little small talk here and there. He tossed the keys to the valet and helped you out of the car, again trying to memorize the feeling of your palm in his before reluctantly letting go.
He pressed for his floor in the elevator. He looked at you when you didn’t follow suit, wondering for a moment whether he forgot his manners.
“Uh, what floor are you?” he asked politely, hovering over the buttons.
“Oh… I actually ended up down the hall from you.”
“Oh.” A loud silence fell. It was unclear whether the arrangement was fortuitous or simply torture for both parties, the other so close but just out of reach.
The doors opened and you tried to hide a sheepish look as you started walking in the same direction.
“Are you following me now?” he joked. “I don’t need help getting into bed this time, promise.”
You stammered a bit, trying to find the right words but decided to keep your mouth shut. You had begged the concierge to find you any other room but she insisted the hotel was fully booked and there were no other options. But you realized in that moment it would only be weird if you made it weird. Humor was always the best deflection so you decided to lean into it. Your ability to hide your growing smile began to falter. Looking like the cat that swallowed the canary, you didn’t say a word as you walked past him when he finally stopped in front of his door. Only looking back in his direction to wave when you stopped in front of yours which happened to be the room over. You both snorted before dissolving into laughter over the absurdity of it all.
“Don’t worry, I’ll try not to throw any ragers,” you said between fits of giggles.
“You mean I wouldn’t be invited?” he asked in faux disbelief.
“You know you’re always welcome, what’s a party without thee Daniel Ricciardo? I just wouldn’t want to disrupt your ‘high performance athlete’ routine before race day.” He cocked an eyebrow.
“If you threw a ‘rager’, everyone would be sitting in a circle doing face masks with Celine Dion playing in the background like some kind of selfcare séance. And it would be over by 10pm.” The laughter that had finally started to slow picked up again. His heart skipped a beat seeing your nose scrunch.
“Hey now, you forgot the scented candles. That open flame is a safety hazard.”
“You are just too wild and crazy.”
“You know me so well. I’ll do my best to keep it down, no promises though.” The laughter slowed again, but the wide grins remained.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow… neighbor.” You smiled, liking the way it sounded coming from him.
“I guess so, good night neighbor.”
You closed your respective doors, each acutely aware of the one wall that separated you.
-
Daniel rubbed the sleep out of his eyes the next morning, aimlessly palming his nightstand to turn off his alarm. He made his way to the bathroom, slowly shaking away his slumber. He was washing his hands when he realized there was more noise than what was coming from the faucet. He turned the water off and listened. He picked out the sound of running water. There may have been music playing from a phone, but it was drowned out by a muffled, unmistakable, offkey voice he could pick out anywhere.
Cuz when the night faaaaallls
My loneliness calls
Boo doo boo DOOP
Ohhhhh I wanna dance with somebody
I wanna feel the HEAT with somebody
yeaAHH I wanna dance with somebody
With somebody who loves me
He smiled to himself listening to you try to do lead, backup vocals, and instrumentals of the Whitney Houston classic, reminiscing back to your performance with Lando in Japan. The warmth that spread from his chest to his toes woke him up, suddenly feeling a renewed sense of optimism for the practice sessions ahead.
As he left to head to the paddock, he heard another door close. His timing was meticulous and he counted his blessings that he should be so fortunate to share more time with you. He couldn’t help the giant smile that grew on his face at the sight of you, immediately imagining you singing in the shower. You double checked for something in your bag before you looked up to meet his gaze. You looked behind you to make sure his dimples weren’t reserved for someone else.
“Hi?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Hi.” He knew he looked dumb, but he didn’t care. He was allowed to smile at you, right?
“You’re awfully happy to see me this morning.” The corners of your mouth turned upward, marked with a cautious skepticism.
“Yeah, h-” He stopped himself. How was your sold out stadium tour in the shower? But if this was a ritual of yours, he didn’t want to miss out on future performances – he did still have three more days with you. “I’m just excited for the practice session.”
Your smile relaxed somewhat. “I’m glad you’re feeling confident. Do you wanna walk over together?”
“Oh, you’re going there too?” He mentally smacked himself as soon as the words left his mouth. Where else would you be going?
“Well yeah. You invited Joe and I, remember?”
“Right. Wasn’t sure if you were off to do lawyer things.”
“I mean I am, but the track is a lot more fun than the hotel lobby. Y’know?”
He did. And the walk there was much nicer with your company. He enjoyed this new morning routine and would be sure to make it happen the rest of the weekend. On his own he may have felt the gravity of the situation more, may have simply gone through the motions to get it all over with, the weight on his shoulders too much to bear. But your presence invigorated him. Helped him believe that there were better things on the horizon. He just needed to clear this one last hurdle and he had the strength to do it. He was consistent in the Friday practice sessions, and your shower version of “Pocketful of Sunshine” the next morning helped him place P10 for qualifying.
You too found this morning pattern soothing. You were pleasantly surprise that you enjoyed your new neighbor more than you thought you would, and happy that what you thought would be a source of stress and awkwardness brought you peace and comfort. When race day rolled around, you had no reason to believe it would be any different than practice or qualifying, other than the fact it was a night race. So you caught up on work in the morning before you got yourself ready as usual. You decided it was a Celine Dion day, happily belting “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now,” unbeknownst to you that you had an audience. In another pleasant turn of events, Joe had given you the ok to leave the work at home, granting full permission to enjoy the race. You initially went for your yellow midi dress, but it triggered flashbacks to Austin. It was best to put it away, no need to risk the bad juju. You struggled to pick something else, changing no less than five times. Somehow you needed to be modest, but in something where you wouldn’t overheat, but it would cool down once the sun set, but it also had to be stylish because you were again going to be surrounded by A-listers across an array of disciplines who looked like they just walked off the runway in Milan. For once you wished you had the ease of just throwing on a suit and being done with the whole ordeal. But the thought got your creative juices flowing, and you settled on a sleek black blazer dress. You threw on the Louboutins you bought with your first Big Law pay check that only came out on special occasions, and topped off the outfit with some big gold hoops for good measure. You could always fake confidence with red bottoms, red lips, and gold hoops.
Even though you had no work with you this time, you had grown accustomed to arriving fashionably early to these events to coincide with Daniel. You gave a friendly knock on his door, expecting him to be ready at the same time as you as he had the last two days. But nothing could have prepared you for coming face to face with the Australian and his Adonis-like figure on full display. Of course he would have no shame answering the door in just a smile and a towel, though with a body like that it was amazing he wore clothes ever.
“Oh! I’m sorry. I. Uh. Um. I-” You continued to stutter as you tried to figure out where to look. You feebly tried to avert your gaze but his beautifully tan muscles demanded attention, from his shoulders, to his pecs, to his abs. You wanted to study and write a dissertation on the tattoos on his arms. You definitely wanted to memorize the line of the towel that hung just so on his hips. But you also didn’t want to make it obvious that you were staring. So your eyes darted from the ceiling, to his body, to the floor, then back to his body, in a chaotic loop.
“My eyes are up here.” His voice dripped with smugness. You definitely couldn’t look there. But you obliged, only to be met with the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen in your life. Your entire body was on fire, and the arrogant twinkle in his eye only stoked it. You knew he was hot. God knew he was hot. Everyone knew he was hot. And he knew it too. And he was having the best time seeing you flustered.
“When you’re done having a stroke, care to tell me why you’re here?”
“You have to be there in less than an hour, I thought you’d be ready to go and we could head down together!” Your tone came off as frustrated. And you were, for more reasons than one. He rolled his eyes.
“We aren’t that far and I don’t take that long to get ready. Give me a few minutes, I’ll be right out.”
“Ugh. Fine. I’ll be in my room,” you said curtly, and spared no time practically running back.
Daniel laughed to himself as he closed the door to continue getting ready. Seeing you lose any measure of control had become one of his favorite things, a stark contrast to your usual moda operendi. He paused though when an unfamiliar sound came from the wall you shared. He stood in front of it for a moment trying to decipher what it was. It sounded like an electric shaver, but why would you need one of those? His eyes widened and the blood rushed to his cheeks and crotch as it dawned on him.
Your hands were almost shaking as you got the door open. You rummaged through your bag to find your vibrator, practically ransacking your room in the process. You definitely had time to rub one out before he would be ready. The picture of his muscly tattooed thighs pressing on the back of yours flooded your brain, back bowed for him with his name falling off your tongue. Your body ached for it to be a reality, one that was so close yet so far. You fell on the bed and pressed the toy where you needed it, eyes squeezed shut, desperately wishing it was the appendage of your friendly neighbor.
Daniel had never gotten ready so fast in his entire life. No doubt, what he just witnessed was the epitome of sexual frustration. Knowing you, you would be quick and efficient about it – he could imagine you splayed on the bed with the hem of your dress bunched up. You probably didn’t even take off your underwear. An internal battle waged within him – whether to rub one out himself or rush to catch you in your immediate post orgasm bliss, the latter ultimately winning. He would have plenty of time later to take care of himself.  
You were so close, when your phone went off.
DR: I’m outside your door.
The disturbance in your momentum should have thrown you off. But the idea that he was basically right there while you touched yourself pushed you right to the edge. Another fantasy intruded your thoughts, imagining what it might be like if he were to come inside and watch you. Your phone dinged again a second later.
DR: Come.
And you did.
You barely had time to come down from your orgasm as you smoothed out your skirt and grabbed your bag again.
“Hi sorry I’m ready,” you said breathlessly as you strode past him.
Daniel chewed the inside of his cheek. He didn’t miss the bright pink flush or the light sheen that graced your features. Your obvious glow matched the flyaways that now stuck out from your otherwise perfectly coiffed hair that made him want to drag you into his room and put that silly little imagination of yours to shame. Demand to know whether your dreams were as good as the real thing with a fistful of your hair in his hand as he buried himself deep inside you. Demand to know whether that stupid toy made you feel like half the woman he did. And that dress. That beautiful dress that hugged your body in all the right places, that showed off its peaks and valleys, that teased just the tip of your cleavage before sealing your tits away like a cruel riddle. He would ruin it. The stiffness in his pants pestered him, and he pushed the impossible thoughts away. He settled on tucking one of the out-of-place strands behind your ear, not missing the opportunity to tease you even if only a little.
“Everything ok? You’re all flushed.”
You bit back a whimper as the tip of your ear fired signals to your core and you suddenly wished your hair follicles had tactile sensors. You would’ve been blushing if your face wasn’t already red.
“Yeah… I, uh, realized I lost an earring. So I had to find it.”
“Did you?” The way his warm brown eyes bore into yours made your stomach do cartwheels.
“Yeah.” Why were you suddenly panting?
“Good. I’m glad you, uh… found your earring.” If you blinked you would’ve missed it, but you could’ve sworn you saw the flash of a smirk cross his face before it was gone. Were you still talking about earrings?
You continued to make your way to the paddock together, you stayed just a pace ahead still hesitant to make eye contact with the driver. You whipped around though when you heard a distinct *click* only to find him with his camera still aimed at you. Another *click*, the flash blinding you momentarily.
“Daniel!” The blush that had finally started to fade came back with a vengeance. He had tried to take pictures of you before, eager to practice his new hobby, and you had politely reminded him that it would pose a risk to your attorney-client privilege (it was mostly a lie, but he didn’t need to know that). But now he lowered the camera, revealing a ghost of a smirk.
“I figured it’s ok since you’re not working. Just want to remember everything from my last race day.”
“We’re in the hallway of a hotel,” you deadpanned.
“You’re right, I’ll take better pictures when we’re outside.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Natural lighting is so much better anyways.” You sighed, reluctantly granting your approval and he internally cheered. You didn’t need to know there was no way in the world he would delete the ones he already took though, that perfectly captured the curve of your backside and your beautiful, bambi eyes looking over your shoulder.
He could’ve gotten lost in his thoughts of you and he would do so happily, but he needed to get in the zone. He tried, but surprisingly the feeling never came. He found he wasn’t really nervous either. After basically processing the five stages of grief over the last few months over his career, there was nothing left for him to prove or fight for. That thought once brought him deep shame, but now it was freeing. Maybe the weight of everything would hit him later, but for now he simply wanted to be in the moment wherever the day led him. At this particular moment, that meant walking to the paddock with you at his side.
-
Tags: @ravenqueen27 @leslizzle @zendayabelova @eitak-t @chiliwhore @wewoo1233 @thatchickwiththecamera
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slippinmickeys · 1 month
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A prompt, formally. Shepherdstown WV.
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Mulder pulled the car into the gravel lot and cut the engine. In front of them was a long wood building, painted a light blue. Over the entrance was an olde-tymey sign that said “O’Hurley’s General Store,” and on every conceivable surface on the rest of the building, it listed its wares: Glassware, Hardware, Furniture, Yard Goods. Hats, Music, Dolls. Housewares, Toys. Guns, Knives, Tools.
Scully threw him a skeptical look. “Did you…forget to pack something?” she asked.
Mulder put his seat back and settled in. “No,” he said. “We’re here on surveillance.”
Scully balked. “Surveillance?”
Mulder nodded. “I think our suspect shops here.”
“I wasn’t aware we had a suspect.”
Mulder turned to her. “We talked about this. The witch.”
“You’re right, Mulder, we did talk about this.” Scully could hear the whining in her own voice and did her best to level it. “Just because there was a pentagram found near the body doesn’t mean it was a ritual sacrifice. I explained this to the Sheriff as well.”
“It wasn’t just the pentagram, Scully. There was salt on the scene. Incense. All items used in ritual consecration practices.”
“t was the kitchen of a college student, Mulder. Salt and incense are pretty much par for the course.”
“Your autopsy showed he was killed with a sharp knife, ‘likely with a curved blade,’” he invoked a line directly from her report.
“…and that means witch?”
Mulder smiled at her. “The boline is a white-handled, curved, ritual knife, used mainly for the cutting of herbs and inscribing candles.”
Scully leaned back begrudgingly in her own seat. He wasn’t going to let this go.
“Fine. Our suspect is a witch. Why would he or she be shopping here?”
Mulder reached in his pocket and pulled out a folded up flier for the store they were parked in front of. Scully pursued the list.
“Cast iron,” she read off. “Enamelware. Dinner bells.”
Mulder nodded enthusiastically. “Candles,” he said. “Coffins. Frogs.” He pointed at the words painted on the side of the building. “Plus dolls. Dry goods. Knives.”
Scully turned to look at him.
“One stop shop for your modern day witch,” he said with a smile.
Scully looked back down at the advertisement, feeling her irritation give way to bemusement. “Who in the world drops into a general store to pick up a steam engine?” she said.
“Probably the same person who goes in for an anvil.”
She graced him with a grin.
“They sell ‘notions?’” She had to admit to being at least a little bit charmed.
Mulder bent his head to peer through the windshield at the store. “I really want to go in.”
Scully unbuckled her seatbelt. “So let’s go in.”
His eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Open your door before I change my mind.”
Mulder whipped off his own seatbelt and was out the door before Scully had a chance to button her coat.
She followed him up the gravel walkway, the stones crunching crisply under their feet. “I’ll bet you twenty bucks it smells weird in there,” she said.
“There’s no way I take that bet,” he replied, smiling. He trotted up the steps and held open the door for her and she shuffled in and turned to him, tapping her nose. His smile grew wider.
Scully then paused, five steps in, taken aback by the sight before her.
“Jesus,” she said. “I’ve never seen so much crap in one place.”
”Isn’t it great?” Mulder beamed.
A saleswoman appeared from behind a behemoth stack of crockery.
“Can I help you find anything?” she asked.
Mulder looked poised to say something she would probably wish he wouldn’t, so she decided to carry the mantle herself.
“Any chance you have a cauldron?” Scully asked.
“Absolutely!” The woman said brightly.
“How about a besome? A censer? An Athame?”
The saleswoman smiled. “Right this way,” she said, turning to make her way around several large barrels filled with wax-wrapped salt water taffy.
When Scully turned to see if Mulder was following her, she found him glued to the spot, his mouth agape.
“Scully?”
“Yeah?” she asked, more than a little pleased with herself.
“If they sell engagement rings, I’m buying you one.”
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schistcity · 1 month
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i hate reddit so much. my external hard drive is failing so i went to see if people had any recommendations for different brands and sorry, i guess, for naively expecting grace and decorum from reddit users, but of course of course of course the top comment on a thread titled "i need help choosing an external hard drive" is some 30k karma fuckhead saying "tl;dr don't buy an external hard drive" like my bad for not anticipating the classic tango of pretentious non-answers that this website has made its cultural dance. brother u/nevertouchedawoman i'm so very glad you were here to engage us with your pearls of wisdom! i actually honestly hope you fall down an open sewer grate!! the lack of self-awareness in the average reddit user baffles the mind. i don't care if you're a fucking saint in real life, if you have ever answered a question on reddit by uselessly countering the entire premise of the op's problem ("hey what's a good action movie to watch with my nephew?" "you should really be introducing him to higher brow cinema, try ghibli" *the anvil i'm holding over your head drops onto your head and you turn into a little squash-and-stretch accordion*) you're going straight to hell when you die because i'm going to be beating you back from the pearly gates with a baseball bat. choke. i'm going to buy a seagate 2TB i guess.
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hungermakesmonsters · 8 months
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Catch Me If You Can
Chapter Eighteen
Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.
Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader
Story Rating : R 
Chapter Rating : PG
Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] There's some dark stuff pertaining to an abusive past relationship, attempted murder, and vague details of a car crash. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 
Word Count : ~4.4k
A/N : Set about a week after the last one! I'm honestly a little nervous about this chapter, I hope you like it! As always thanks so much for reading!
CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Chapter Eighteen
The whole world came crashing down around you in a single moment. 
You didn’t realise until it was too late to stop it, until it was too late to change anything and avoid the inevitable consequences.
The private investigator took the envelope full of cash before sliding the file across the table to you, sparing you one last glance and a couple of words of warning before climbing out of the booth and heading towards the exit. Your gaze followed him out of the diner and onto the street, where he walked past -
Your heart stopped.
Frank.
He had his phone out, pointing right at you through the diner window, a mix of betrayal and disappointment on his face. It took a moment to figure out what was happening, for the penny to finally drop, but when it did, you felt your entire body fill with panic; he thought you were the security threat, the person who’d been digging into anvil over the last couple of months. 
Your heart started to race, knowing that he was going to tell Billy what he thought he’d seen, that he’d seen you paying off the PI who’d been snooping around Anvil. You scrambled out of the booth, almost tripping over your own feet, desperate to get to Frank and fix the situation before it spiralled out of control.
But he was already on the phone by the time you got outside. You kept the file clutched to your chest, holding it against you like a shield as you approached the imposing figure of Frank Castle, stomach knotting as you heard him speak.
“Yeah, Bill, I’ll deal with it,” his eyes fixed on you as you stopped in front of him. 
You waited in silence, for a moment thinking you could just about hear Billy’s voice on the other end of the phone before Frank hung up and dropped his phone into his pocket.
“I’m gonna need you to give me that,” Frank said, holding out his hand, expecting you to hand the file over. 
“I can’t.” Because, despite everything that was happening, you knew one thing for sure; you couldn’t let anyone see the file, couldn’t let them know about your past.
“Y’know, the crazy thing is that I thought Bill was gonna be the one to break your heart, not the other way around,” Frank shook his head.
“You don’t understand -”
“Pretty sure I do,” he interrupted, not willing to listen to your explanations, “you’ve had your PI lookin’ into Anvil and Bill for weeks now, so give it up.”
“No, that’s not -” but you could already tell that he wasn’t going to listen to you, that he’d made up his mind. “I need to see Billy, I have to explain this to him.”
“That’s great ‘cause he’s already waiting at Anvil for you.”
You stared at him for a moment before realising that you had a choice to make - he couldn’t very well bundle you into his car in broad daylight, but you were aware how bad it would look for you if you refused to go with him. You’d just given up every single dollar to your name for the file in your hand and, now, you needed to make sure that it hadn’t all been for nothing.
“Okay,” you relented, “take me to Billy.”
Frank gave a grunt and nodded towards his truck. You followed after him, climbing into the passenger seat and keeping your eyes fixed forward. Once he’d started the engine, you reached for your phone, hastily typing up a message to Karen, wanting to try and explain what was going on before Frank told her.
“Who you texting?” Frank asked suddenly, taking his eyes off the road.
“Karen, I -” he snatched your phone before you could finish, your thumb managing to hit send on the half finished message as he pulled it away from you. “What the fuck?”
“You’re not draggin’ Karen into this shit,” he told you, his eyes returning to the road just in time to keep from running a red light - a sharp stop that caused your anxiety to spike even more, reminding you of the accident years ago. You were so distracted that you only caught the last half of what Frank was saying, “- when Bill’s done with you.”
You didn’t argue, didn’t ask him to repeat himself. You just wanted him to concentrate on the road. So, you remained silent, clutching the file to your chest and watching out the windscreen. The way he drove across the city made your heart race and your chest tighten, practically jumping out of your skin with every screech of brakes or honk of a horn.
And, when you reached Anvil some fifteen minutes later, you were quick to scramble out of the truck, almost gasping for breath.
He gave another grunt, indicating that you should follow him and, stupidly, you did just that. You didn’t realise that anything was wrong until you were in the elevator and realised that you were being taken down to the basement level instead of up to Billy’s office.
“Why aren’t we going to Billy’s office?” You asked, dread already starting to coil in your stomach.
“Bill doesn’t want you in his office,” Frank answered as the doors slid open, revealing a cold and terrifying looking corridor.
“I want my phone back.” You told him, unable to stop the fear from filling your tone.
“Told you, you can have it back when Bill’s done with you,” he motioned for you to start moving and, with no other option, you did.
When the elevator doors slid shut, your thoughts started to spiral to dark places you didn’t want them to go, to memories of feeling trapped and powerless. A lump rose in your throat and tears were already starting to sting your eyes as your footsteps echoed down the long hallway. When Frank stopped and opened a door, you let him usher you inside before you realised your mistake.
The door closed behind you, leaving you trapped and alone in what appeared to be an interrogation room. Had your state of mind been better, you might have realised that the room was used for training new recruits and conducting interviews but, since you were panicking, all you could think was that you were going to be trapped there until you confessed to all of the things you hadn’t done.
You turned back to the door quickly, pulling at the handle. You weren’t surprised to find it locked, but it did nothing to stop the panic that was raging inside of you.
The room had a long metal table and two chairs, one on either side, but you didn’t move to sit. You couldn’t move at all, terror had you rooted in place, your fingers still tightly gripping the file against your chest. There was a camera blinking in the corner of the room and you felt your stomach drop; was Billy watching you right now, could he see the terror on your face? (And, if he could, why wasn’t he coming to help you?)
Minutes passed before Billy stepped into the room. You stayed frozen as he stepped around you and you waited - you waited for him to tell you that this was all some big mistake, that he knew you’d never do the things Frank had accused you of. But it never came. As he took a seat, your eyes closed tight, silently willing yourself to wake up from this nightmare.
Another minute passed in total silence, like he was waiting for you to speak first and dig your own grave, but you couldn’t even look at him, much less form the words you needed to explain all of this to him.
“Just give me the file,” he finally said.
“I can’t,” you shook your head, eyes still closed tight.
“Who are you working for?” There was something cold in his voice, something broken and full of pain and, despite everything he was putting you thought, some part of you longed to comfort him.
“No one, I’m not -”
“Don’t lie to me!” The sound of his open palm hitting the surface of the table caused you to flinch, your eyes opening as you took a step back and pressed yourself against the wall, needing to put as much distance between you and Billy as possible. “You paid someone to look into Anvil, into me.”
“No, that’s not what happened! You don’t understand -”
“What were you after; finances? Mission details? How much were you getting paid?” His tone got sharper with every word.
“I wasn’t after anything, that’s not what this is. It’s not about Anvil -” you tried desperately still, somehow, holding onto some small glimmer of hope that you could fix things before they got too broken.
 “Bullshit!”
“Please, Billy,” you struggled to find the words in your panic, “you promised that you’d trust me, that you’d -”
“I did trust you!”
His use of the past tense caused something to break inside of you, and you felt a sort of pain that you hadn’t felt in years, the sort of pain that could only be inflicted by someone you loved.
“Stop, please, Billy just -” you tried again, blinking back tears.
Everything was falling apart around you, the future you’d let yourself hope for was slipping away; you were going to move in with him, you were going to go work for The Bulletin, and you were finally going to start rebuilding your life after so many years of just existing and scraping a living. All your dreams were dying all at once, all because he wouldn’t listen to you, because he couldn’t trust you.
Some part of you knew that if you could just find the words, you’d be able to make him understand, but your panicked, racing mind couldn’t focus enough to say or do anything to help fix things.
“How long?” He asked coldly, ignoring your tears. “How long have you been lying to me, using me?”
“I wasn’t lying! Why won’t you listen to me? Why can’t you trust me?” You heard yourself begging desperately.
“Because you’ve been lying to me for months!” His voice got louder, sharper, and you no longer recognised the man in front of you. This wasn’t your Billy, this was someone else entirely. “You know, you really had me fooled, pretending to be this wounded little thing, acting like you wanted me, like we had something.”
“It wasn’t an act!” You managed to raise your voice to match him, desperate to make him listen, to convince him that you still cared, but Billy didn’t even seem to hear it. “Please, just - just let me explain. I can explain this.”
“Explain what? That none of this was real? That you tricked me into wanting you so you could get close enough to stab me in the back? Did you get paid extra to fuck me or was jumping into my bed just part of the game for you?” You could still hear the pain in his tone, but the moment Billy said those words to you, something inside of you snapped.
Your stomach continued to tie itself in knots. You hated every little thing about this, hated how he thought you were as bad as all of the other people who had used him and lied to him to get what they wanted. But your pain quickly started to turn to anger - he wasn’t the only one who’d ever been hurt, he wasn’t the only one who’d been lied to and used. As hurt as Billy obviously was by this whole situation, he’d broken his promises to you; he wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t hear you out, wouldn’t trust you.
You were being blamed for something you hadn’t done and you were going to lose everything because of it. Again.
“You think I jumped into bed with you?” Your tone turned sharper, colder, and more certain - because, in all of this, if you were certain of one thing, it was that you did not just jump into bed with him. Finally you had his attention, just in time for you to tell him; “falling in love with you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, Billy. And you’ve just managed to prove why it was such a stupid idea.”
It was the first time you’d dared utter that you loved him aloud, but you were no longer scared of how he was going to react to the revelation or how vulnerable it would make you feel. It was too late to care about any of that. You’d come to Anvil hoping to save things with Billy but that dream was now over. 
And, for the first time since all of this began, you realised that the truth of your past couldn’t hurt you anymore. It didn’t matter if Billy knew because he’d already given up on you, whatever was between you was over now, and everything you’d done to try and preserve it had been for nothing.
“Fine,” you relented, forcing yourself to step away from the wall and towards the table. Once you were close enough you slammed the file down in front of him so hard that its contents spilled out across the table; photographs of you, notes about your work, your friends and your finances. 
Billy’s eyes dropped, quickly looking over it, starting to move things, rummaging through the paperwork, trying to make sense of it.
“It was never about you or Anvil. He was looking for me. And I just spent every penny I had paying him off so I wouldn’t have to leave New York, so I wouldn’t have to leave you. But I guess the jokes on me, because you don’t even care enough to keep your promises to me and just listen for five fucking minutes.” By the time you’d finished, you had to cover your mouth to try and suppress the sobs that were desperate to escape you.
Billy stayed silent, rifling through the pages and photographs in front of him, seeming to become more frantic with every passing second as he looked for something, anything, to prove that he hadn’t just destroyed your relationship for nothing.
You watched him for a second, knowing exactly what he’d find in the file, and knowing the questions he’d inevitably have for you when he found the details of your sister's death, and the car crash that had left you scarred. But it was too late for any of that now, he’d lost any right to ask anything about your past.
Moving back to the door, you gave the handle a sharp tug, even though you were pretty certain that the door was still locked.
“Wait -” his broken tone caused you to bristle. Where once you would have felt compassion, you now only felt anger.
“Let me out.”
“I don’t understand,” he told you, as he got to his feet and started to move towards you, his expression one of confusion instead of anger. You held up a hand, wanting him to keep his distance and Billy stopped. In his hand he was holding a copy of the photograph that he’d seen on your bedside table all those weeks ago, the photo of you and your siblings as children. “Please, help me understand this. I want to understand.”
“Which part, Billy? The part where you refused to listen, when you wouldn’t hear me out, when you wouldn’t trust me like you promised?” A hand scrubbed at your cheek, desperately trying to wipe away your tears, not wanting him to see just how much he’d wounded you. “Or the part where you thought so little of me that you thought I was fucking you just to get information on your company?”
“I didn’t know, I -”
“You wouldn’t let me explain!” You yelled and it was Billy’s turn to flinch at your tone. “I gave up everything I had to get that file, and now it doesn’t even matter. None of this matters anymore.”
“It matters, it -” he tried, obviously struggling for words, “- why didn’t you tell me?
“Why didn’t you believe me?” you threw back at him. ”Why is it so hard for you to trust me? Do you even trust anyone?”
“I’m sorry, I never -”
“Just - just stop. It’s too late.” You shook your head. It hurt too much and every word, every plea that left him only made the ache in your chest feel worse. “You promised me that you’d listen. I trusted you and you ruined it. You’ve ruined us.” 
“No... don’t say that. Please, don’t say that.” His voice continued to crack and break, and it was almost enough to make you want to back down, but you knew you couldn’t. Not after this. He’d broken his promise to you and left you feeling more wounded and alone than you’d ever felt. “I’m sorry, let me fix this, sweetheart, please.”
“Fix this?” You almost managed to laugh through the tears. “There is no fixing this, Billy. You’ve ruined it. You broke my heart.”
“No, no... please, I -” for a moment he looked at you like those three little words were on the tip of his tongue, like he was ready to confess his love, but you didn’t want to hear it.
“Just stop. You don’t get to fight for me, Billy. Not now. Not after this.” You told him angrily. “I told you I couldn’t do this if you didn’t trust me.”
“You said you fell in love with me,” the words came out so softly that you almost didn’t hear them.
You could see the thinly masked distress on his face, the pain and misery that you’d managed to cause with that one, silly admission. You hated yourself for blurting it out like that, like you were some character in a soap opera or some shitty romance novel. And, if he’d been anyone else, you might have been angrier at his obliviousness to your feelings - of course you’d fallen in love with him, it had been so fucking obvious - but Billy had always been honest with you; he didn’t know love, didn’t understand it. All the people who were supposed to love him and abandoned him.
But not you. That was not what this was. You weren’t abandoning him, he’s pushed you to breaking point. This time it was Billy’s fault.
“What did you think was gonna happen?” You dared to ask, not even bothering to try and hide your pain anymore. “I’m not like you, Billy, I can’t just turn off my emotions whenever things get difficult.”
“You love me?” He took a step closer, the look on his face suggesting that he still thought that there was some way that he could fix things.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“It matters to me, please, I -”
The door opened and, before he could finish that thought, you were rushing back out into the hallway, trying to put as much distance between yourself and Billy as possible. He followed after, your name dying on his lips when he saw Karen and Frank standing there.
“Sorry, Bill, she -” Frank started, looking at Karen who was now holding your phone.
“You’re both assholes,” she stated and neither man dared argue with her. Obviously, thankfully, she’d managed to figure out what was going on and where you were just from the half of a text message that you’d managed to send before Frank had confiscated your phone. 
Her arm quickly pulled around your shoulders and she started to lead you towards the elevator while you tried to choke back tears. You didn’t dare look back until you were in the elevator; Billy looked heartbroken, following after you but keeping his distance.
“Please, I -” he tried.
“You’ve done enough, Billy. Just leave her alone.” Karen snapped as the doors slid shut and, a moment later, the floodgates opened and you started to sob uncontrollably, knowing that you’d lost everything.
TWO HOURS EARLIER.
Your heart was racing, thumping out a painful and uneven beat in your chest.
When Karen had told you that a private investigator had been asking around about you at The Bulletin, you’d put things together pretty quickly. You had her set up a meeting later that morning for you, hoping that you could fix things before they got out of control, even though your every instinct told you to pack a bag and get out of New York as quickly as you could.
You didn’t want to have to run, you didn’t want to leave the life that you were starting to build in the city. You didn’t want to leave the man that you loved.
Before heading to the diner to meet the PI, you stopped at the bank, withdrawing every penny that had, hoping that it would be enough, hoping that you could pay him off and fix everything before things spun out of control.
He was already waiting in the diner when you arrived, sitting in a booth by the window; a grizzled looking guy, well into his forties, who’d obviously been in the PI game for decades. As you slid into the seat opposite him, you felt your guts start to twist with a mix of anxiety and fear.
“If I’d known that this was the quickest way to get you out of hiding, I’d’ve done it weeks ago,” he stated before you’d even gotten comfortable. “I take it you wanted to meet to make me an offer?”
You took a breath, trying to steady your still-racing heart. “How much would it cost for you to go back to Florida and pretend you couldn’t find me?”
He almost seemed shocked that you knew where he was from for a second, but it was quickly hidden behind a lazy sort of smile.
“More than you’ve got,” he stated and your heart sank. “I’m a little surprised that you don’t seem surprised by any of this.”
“I’m not,” you offered, already feeling like you were wasting your time. “I knew it was only a matter of time before Scott started looking for me. Did he tell you why - did he tell you why he wants to find me?”
“No, and I didn’t bother to ask - usually don’t when the money’s this good.” He shrugged before sitting forward in his seat. “Go on then; what’d you do to this guy? I figured you either broke his heart or you took something of his. Must’ve been something big for you to spend these last few years running all up and down the country.”
“I didn’t do anything,” you voice cracked at how helpless you suddenly felt, “He tried to kill me, and that’s probably why he wants me back.”
That seemed to unsettle the PI and you decided to use it to your advantage.
“I take it you know about the accident?” You asked and the PI gave an awkward sort of nod, not knowing what point you were going to try to make. “It wasn’t an accident, he deliberately swerved the car off the road because I’d finally told him that I was leaving him.” Your voice continued to crack, threatening to break. “He pulled himself out of the car and left me there to die. I had to crawl through fire and broken glass to save myself,” you rolled up your sleeve, letting him see the scars, along with the sickening S that Scott had carved into your skin. “That’s why he wants to know where I am. He wants to finish the job.”
The PI let out a slow exhale and it was more than obvious from the way he shifted in his seat that he hadn’t been expecting that story, that he’d been lied to and used by Scott.
A trembling hand wiped at your eye, you were determined not to cry despite everything you’d just been forced to reveal.
“Look, I feel for you, but this is a big payday and -”
You reached into your purse and quickly placed the envelope on the table between you.
“That’s everything I have,” you told him, sniffing back tears, “you can have it all, just - please, give me the file and don’t tell him I’m here. I just want to be able to live my life. I don’t want to have to start over again.”
“You’d leave that rich boyfriend of yours?” He asked, like he almost didn’t believe what you were trying to tell him.
“If I had to. But I don’t want to. Scott has already stolen years of my life, please don’t help him take more. There’s just over fifteen grand in that envelope, I know it’s not a lot but -”
Your heart threatened to stop as he picked up the envelope and started thumbing through the stack of notes inside.
“This is everything you’ve got,” he stated with the certainty of someone who’d looked into your accounts. “You’re willing to give up everything just to make sure this guy doesn’t find you?”
“Yes...”
The moment that followed seemed to linger for an eternity; him looking at you like he was trying to decide what to do, while you stared back, silently praying to any god that might listen to you. 
There was no holding back the relieved sob that slipped from you when he finally put the envelope in his pocket and slid the file across the table to you.
“I’ll tell him I lost track of you after the six months you spent in Chicago.”
“Thank you.
He gave something of a grumble as he started to pull his coat on and got to his feet, ready to walk away, but something made him stop. “Y’know, that boyfriend of yours isn’t as squeaky clean as you think. I’d be careful if I were you - and, maybe, you should ask him where his mother is.”
He didn’t give you the chance to ask what he meant, before he turned and left the diner, your gaze following him out the door and onto the street, watching as walked right past Frank Castle, who was holding his phone and photographing the entire exchange. 
Chapter Nineteen
END NOTES : Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ok so this is probably the chapter than I've been most nervous about so I hope people enjoy the drama and angst! I know this probably wasn't what people were expecting from this chapter, but I won't say too much because I don't want to spoil anything for future chapters.
As always thanks so much for reading and sticking with this, it really does mean the world to me!
If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it’s not working for everyone - if it’s not working and you don’t want to miss a chapter, I post every Friday around 7:30pm gmt)
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thy-valhallen · 3 months
Text
i don't think we talk about what an absolute BANGER of a line Techno dropped on Quackity before their fight, post-execution
imagine: you're Quackity. you've been through fucking hell. you fought tooth and nail to get this country, traded sides as many times as you needed to, all to end up on the winning side. you finally are a part of L'Manburg, the real L'Manburg, a country of people and love and loyalty.
and there's a dark cloud hanging over your heads, one that cups wither skeletons in its hands and echoes with laughter and the sound of TNT. Technoblade is out there, and could come back at any second to ruin everything you've built. you fought for this, you've schemed for this-- hell, Tommy got exiled to protect this place.
so you decide to be proactive. you put together the Butcher's Army, you prepare for a fight and to kill a man because you'll do anything for this country. you push your young, stressed president into a bloodthirsty plan. you harass Philza, the grief-stricken father of your old rival and fallen president, and rob him, lock him in his home.
you track down Technoblade. you strike with the force of four men in full netherite, and you're losing. you get desperate, you threaten the horse that he loves, and it's the only thing that saves your lives. and you did it-- you've captured Technoblade, you've brought him in, and set him under an anvil. months of planning have paid off, and you're finally going to have retribution, the peace of knowing that's one less person out there who wants you and your home in ashes.
except you don't succeed. except a mercenary and the true ruler of the Greater SMP destroy your plans and Technoblade has a Totem of Undying and your execution is now a battle-- a battle you ignore, rushing through the smoke and blades and screams. because you saw Technoblade run.
you rush into the caves after him-- full netherite armor, axe drawn. you're going to end this yourself. this can't have all been for nothing.
and standing against him, declaring your intentions, he laughs, and simply asks:
"Did you really think... you could kill me that easily, Quackity?"
Like all you did, like all those months of planning and hours of scheming, all of your blood, sweat, and tears, weren't the best you could give? like everything you did wasn't with the full intention of ending this decisively? like all your work was nothing more than a rough few hours for him?
and you fight. and you lose. you lose to a man in iron armor and a pickaxe-- a pickaxe he puts through your face.
and nursing your wounds, staring at the ruins of a execution stage, you know he'll be back. and now, you know exactly how futile your efforts to stop him were-- and how much harder you have to try anyway, because there's nothing to do but desperately raise your shields against the falling of the axe, even when it's doomed to strike again
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Note
There's an anvil just about like. 10 feet up, right above my head. I don't know if it's just going to hang there, or if it's going to fall down. Help.
Question - is there an inky black spot nearby? Are you noticing gurgling chuckles just out of clear earshot? Noticing odd shadows moving at 24 frames a second?
Because this sounds like toon behavior. Toons operate on what they think is funny, and what they think is funny is still classic physical comedy that the average human couldn’t survive.
I want you to listen carefully. Remain calm. Get underneath something very sturdy, just in case, and do not look up. It won’t release the anvil until you’re visibly aware of the situation. The problem is that eventually it’ll lose interest and wander off, so if you can go on a long drive on some empty roads, so much the better.
If you feel comfortable, you can get some turpentine and soak the ground in a circle, and then step into it. It’s not good for the plants, of course, but it might block its influence enough for it to drop the anvil.
Remember that toons can be dangerous. Their reality has been shredded across tens of thousands of cels and it drives them insane. There’s a single-digit number of them that have their faculties intact. Be aware that they might still be all there, but they probably aren’t.
Remind me sometime to get Vance Valiant in here, Jenny. He’s a good guy, for a toon.
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Text
Teeth
Part 13
Masterlist
Warnings: Stalker vibes, confrontations, anxiety.
Photo by shaazjung on Instagram
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"There's something you haven't explained to me." Billy says suddenly.
You pause, from sending your messages, looking across at him from your spot in the passenger seat.
You raise your eyebrows expectantly.
"Why do you think hackers- or people trying to breach security in general- would underestimate the level of sophistication of the system?"
You take a deep breath, lean back.
"Because," You say with a tired sigh, "When they search up the company structure, they'll see me as a consultant."
"You?"
"Female." You clarify.
"You really think that people will make that assumption?"
"Why not? It's been happening for most of my life anyway, I'm just weaponising it now."
He's silent for a long moment.
"I'm sorry that you have to go through that."
"It's fine," You sing, "It means I get to design a system that looks dumb but ruins some fucker's life."
He smiles fondly, glancing over at you.
"Come over to my place next week, I'll do the cooking this time."
You hum, prolonging your response so that it seems like you take some time to decide.
In reality, saying no was never an option.
"Sure, I'd like that."
You don't notice the way his shoulders drop subtly, relaxing, just moments after.
.
It's not as difficult to leave your place alone as it was before.
Sure, for those first few weeks after the robbery, you'd only gone to and from work with Billy and occasionally, one of your friends would accompany you to the supermarket.
Today, when Amy calls to find out of you're still on for later, you pause, and tell her that maybe you're going to try to go by yourself today.
She's quiet for a moment, and you can almost hear her thinking.
"Okay, but please call if you feel even a little bit unsure?" You can hear the worry in her voice, you know that she's thinking about the first time she accompanied you, and you hid in the bathroom for ten minutes cause you thought you were being followed.
"I will, Amy, thank you."
Truthfully, you could never shake the feeling that you were being watched.
It went with you everywhere, like a shadow that just kept coming back no matter how much light you shined on it.
You tried to take deep breaths, and reassure yourself that everything was okay. It was the best you could do.
Billy was the only person that made you feel completely safe, his knowledge and background meant that you could very much trust whenever he said you weren't being followed.
But now? Alone like this, you try not to look over your shoulder too many times when examining apples, or not to freeze up when someone got too close to you.
Overall, at the cashier, you find yourself a little glad that you're able to at least get this far despite anything that may happen later.
It's a step in the right direction for your self-empowerment, a reminder that time can sometimes help repair the damage caused by traumatic events.
You're piling your groceries into the trunk of your car when you hear someone say your name.
Freezing in fear is a normal response for you, but once again, you do your best to breathe through it, and turn.
"Andrew? Hello," you greet.
Your former boss gives you a sharp smile and approaches. You take your time, assessing him as a possible threat.
He looks a bit sallow, the underneath of his eyes are a little grey, possibly with lack of sleep, a shadow of a beard sprouting on the base of his face.
He looks a bit unkempt, his hands in his pockets and you make sure to casually put your trolley between him and you for safety.
"You look like you're doing great." He says, taking in your piles of items, and then carefully looking at you.
You watch his eyes trail down your body and your head lights up with warning signs.
You smile politely, nodding your head.
"I'm fine, I hope you are too." You offer lightly, trying to finish packing your car as quickly as possible.
"Well, when you left, the everyone was counting on Anvil to accept our offer. When he declined, the board decided I wasn't good enough at my job."
You swallow. Is that was this was? A guilt trip?
"I'm sorry to hear that." You state calmly.
He takes a shaky step forward, and you stand your ground looking right at him. You think if he tried something, the shopping cart would come in handy in keeping him away from you.
"It's odd though, I keep playing my last meeting with Russo over and over in my head, and do you know what stood out to me?"
You don't respond.
"What stood out," he continues, "Is that Russo only wanted you."
So this was an accusation.
"Now why would he want someone like you, if you weren't fucking him?"
You press your teeth together angrily.
"Fuck. You." You grit out.
He blinks, having never seen you this angry before. You continue before he has the chance to speak.
"You think I wanted to leave? I left because you kept treating me like shit. Over and over again, and now you think you can come here and accuse me of this? No wonder you got fired when I left, because you couldn't keep taking credit for my work."
"You little bitch." He says taking another step forward until his body is right against the shopping cart. He grips the metal side of it, leaning forward even more in an attempt to get into your space.
"I vouched for you so many times. I'm the reason you got this job in the first place. You were nobody, nothing, until I decided to give you a chance. I've been watching you for a week now, trying to get you alone to talk to you, and you've been hooked to William Russo like dirt under his boot, and you want to tell me you aren't fucking him?"
You feel the fear of realization sink under your skin. Your stomach turns, making you nauseated.
"You've been following me?" You ask, in a much smaller voice than you want to.
He frowns, pushes away from the trolley and turns his back to you for a moment.
"Don't flatter yourself, I only wanted to talk."
He grits out.
You don't say anything, just watching his figure, trying to figure out how to get away from him.
You close your trunk, he watches you return your cart to the little docking station nearby.
"I'm sorry for the way things turned out." You say to him finally, trying to ease the tension.
He studies you for a long moment.
"You can fix this. Bring Russo back to us, they'll take you back, you can vouch for me like I once vouched for you."
"I'm not going to do that."
He grunts angrily, taking steps to approach you.
You back away, but he just keeps coming, he's almost in your personal space when suddenly a hand claps down on his shoulder.
The parking lot security guard looks very stern as he pulls Andrew a safe distance away from you.
"Is this man bothering you?" The security inquires in your direction.
You gulp, thinking that if you said 'yes,' you'd be forced to stand around here for longer.
"A bit, but I just want to leave." You finally say.
The guard nods, standing as a wall between Andrew and you, and you take the out, sliding into your car as fast as you can and reversing out of your park.
You don't look back.
.
'I don't suppose you could spare a moment to come over?' You send in his direction.
You swallow, turning your phone over in your hands, deep in thought.
You phone vibrates, you glance down.
'Be there in 5.'
"It's open." You say, when you hear a knock on the door.
He comes through slowly, no harsh sounds ever present when he's around.
"I know this building is safe, but you really should check before you let people in. What if that wasn't me?"
You don't answer, just staring at him as he locks the door behind him.
You sigh, your feet tucked under you as you lounge on your couch, your third glass of wine cupped securely in your hands.
You look up when he says your name.
You study him the same way he studies you. His hair is wet from a recent shower, but he's dressed comfortably this time, in black sweatpants and a soft green hoodie. He looks so comfortable, and the words 'boyfriend material' spring to mind, your mouth twitches, deep in thought, thinking about what he would say if you said that to him.
"Are you alright?" He asks after studying you.
You nod, taking another long sip of wine. He looks behind you, probably noting the abundance of unpacked groceries on your kitchen counter. You'd brought most of them up, only really worrying about the frozen and refrigerated items before you'd stopped, in favour of the sweet white you were now holding.
"Sometimes, I really hate the field I chose."
Billy looks at you for a moment, trying to read into you, but you know he doesn't have all the information.
"Why?" He asks, stepping forward and dropping into the spot beside you easily.
You rest your cheek on the back of the couch, looking up at him.
"It would be easier. I could have picked the culinary arts instead of this and no one would question if I was sleeping with my boss everytime I did something good."
"Someone accused you of that?" Billy asks evenly, doesn't take his eyes off of you.
You sigh, nodding, swirling your wine around in your little cup- not using a piece of glassware out of fear that you may break it.
"Andrew," You say softly to Billy, despair heavy in the farthes reaches of your mind.
"He followed me, confronted me, accused me, and then tried to bargain with me to come back."
You sigh, sniffling for a brief moment, fighting the pressure behind your eyes as tears pool.
You blink quickly to stop them from falling.
"He told me that I would be nothing without him. And all the way home I kept thinking that if I'd just picked something else, anything else, I might be a little bit happier."
A teardrop splashes into your wine, you wipe at it quickly.
He lets out a slow breath and you glance up at him in surprise, half realising that he's still here, watching you.
His dark eyes are tender, studying you in great detail before lifting a hand and crooking two fingers at you.
"Come here." Is all he says.
You breathe out a rush of air, knocking back the last two moutfuls of wine in your cup before setting the item on the little table in front of you.
You move slowly, giving him a chance to change his mind, leaning into him, and slowly resting your head into the crook of his neck.
His arms wrap around you, pulling you even closer until you're half seated in his lap.
There's just a rightness to being in his arms that finally breaks the dam inside of you. You let out a little sob, and his arms tighten around you as your body begins to shake as you cry.
"Sorry," you hiccup, "I- I'm sorry."
He shushes you softly, his cheek resting on the top of your head.
You feel small in his arms, a fragile thing made to be picked up and cared for and he very sensation makes you cry harder because it feels good, and you find yourself unable to gather the strength to think about pulling away from him. His scent is around you, his body pressed so tightly to yours that there's no gap between you.
There's a small abstract moment in your head, that you're able to identify a wholeness that wasn't there before.
You shiver, looking up at him with tear-stained cheeks, noting the feeling that you'd never realised you were missing something until he took you into his arms.
His thumbs wipe at your fresh tears, pushing them back, forcing them away.
You press your head back against his chest, shudders out a sigh as his arms go right back around you.
"There's so much I want to say," Billy starts, "I don't even know where too begin."
You sniffle.
"You don't have to." You murmur, hoping that he doesn't feel obligated to comfort you with his words.
You feel your head begin to swim as your third glass of wine begins to catch up to you.
"When I started Anvil, I had nothing." He says, his voice smooth and deep in your ear.
"There was me, and an idea, and I made a lot of questionable deals in order to get my company started."
You hear him swallow.
"There was one man, he believed that because he gave me a chance when no one else would, that he owned me. He treated me like his own personal dog, and for a couple of years, all I did was whatever he asked."
You listen intently, melting into him as he begins to rub circles into your lower back.
"It took me a while- longer than I'd care to admit- to understand that just because he helped me, it didn't mean I owed him everything. Sure, his generosity was appreciated, but it was my work that took Anvil off the ground, and seeing how far it's come, how far it has yet to go, and how much good it does makes it worthwhile for me."
He takes a moment to catch his breath.
"What I'm saying is, that you don't owe anyone a damn thing. Your successes are your own, because you did them." He makes a little sound of amusement at the back of his throat before continuing, "You're the secret ingredient."
You sniffle, smiling at his words.
"Andrew thinks he gave you these opportunities out of the goodness of his heart, but that's bullshit. You showed him who you were, and he picked you because he thought you were good at your job."
"And you?" You ask, desperate to hear it, "Why did you pick me?"
He makes a tiny huff of amusement.
"Because I love my company," You feel his face press into your hair, "And I wanted to give it the best chance, which is you."
You sigh, pressing yourself as close to him as possible, breathing in that amazing spiced scent, before relaxing fully, turning to a boneless mass in his arms.
"Thank you." You finally say to him.
He makes a deep sound in the back of his throat, you feel the vibration against your cheek.
He doesn't let go, and you have to motivation to pull away.
You're so at ease that you can't help closing your eyes, falling asleep in his arms without a second thought.
.
He holds you for a long while, a stupid smile on his face as he breathes in your strawberry scent.
When he's sure he won't wake you, he slips a hand under your knees, and stands with you in his arms.
You make a little sound, your arms wrapping tighter around his neck.
Billy takes his time, walking you to your bedroom, pulling the covers back and placing you down.
You don't let go of him, clinging like a koala, his eyes widen as you almost pull all of his body weight on top of yourself, he catches his weight on his arms before he crushes you.
He tries to pull away but you're not having it, maneuvering him in your sleep, until he's on his back, and your body is cradled against his, your head on his chest.
He lets out a breath of amusement, raising the hand that isn't pinned under you to stroke you hair.
He hears you hum in bliss and he smiles.
He wants to worship you so badly, kiss every inch of your skin, and then twice over for good measure.
He can't help it, pressing his thumb over the pout of your lips, his heart flipping when you draw even closer to him.
How can he pull himself away from you now? What kind of strength would that take?
Billy thinks about what would happen if he stayed right here beside you, if you wake up in the morning and find him here, you'd probably be so at ease.
He wanted that, he would probably kiss you at some point.
He can feel his heart racing as he thinks about it, kissing you breathless, giving you rounds of uninhibited pleasure, hearing you beg for him as if he would ever deny you.
But what about after?
He swallows, worried about after.
He wouldn't be able to keep himself away from you. Once, would never be enough.
He'd have to have you, over and over and over, never wanting to hide your relationship.
But that would make rumors true, it would invalidate your successes because you were sleeping with your boss.
The breath that escapes him is so pained that it takes him a second to take another.
He'd never forgive himself if he ruined your reputation that way.
He sighs, tracing the back of his hand over your cheeks and listening to the way you sigh.
He knew what you wanted, your body made it crystal clear everytime he was around you, calling out for him, and if he were a weaker man, he'd oblige.
His relationship with control was strained on a good day. The military had helped him focus his anger, train his rage and his bloodlust, but nothing had trained him to control his desire.
As Billy looked at you, sleeping in his arms, he felt his control grinding down with each breath you took.
It was only a matter of time.
.
Alone.
Again.
You sit up, taking a sad breath.
How did he always manage to slip away from you? Why?
What would it take to wake up next to him?
A question that goes unanswered.
In your kitchen, you're stunned to find that all your groceries have been packed away, only a few items in unfamiliar places. A warm feeling in your chest, you almost want to text him and thank him, except that you remember the last time you did that he left you on read. You decide to tell him in person when he's taking you to work.
You get dressed for work like usual, but when you're halfway ready, you pause, thinking about Dani's words from a few days ago.
In an effort to torment him, you shed your fancy work shirt and grab one of the work appropriate dresses in your closet.
It's sky blue, with half sleeves and matching belt. You're not sure if it will even catch his eye, but you decide to try anyway.
Except that when you step out of your aparment building, it's not Billy waiting for you.
You've seen Sergei around before, but you blink in surprise when he nods his head at you, and pulls open the back door of the car he's standing in front of.
Your heart plummets.
He'd sent someone else to pick you up.
You smile at Sergei, asking him for a moment before you pull your phone from your pocket and dial his number.
"Russo." Is what he says when he answers.
"Hey," You greet lightly, trying to be quick, "Did you send someone else to take me to work?"
He's silent for a moment.
"Yes, I-"
"Okay thank you," you interrupt, not interested in hearing what he had to say, "Just checking to make sure. Bye."
You end the call, staring at your phone for a second before shaking your head.
You turn to Sergei, giving him a smile and a word of thanks as you slide into the back seat of the car.
"Do you have any music preferences?" He asks kindly, and you wonder briefly if that was even in the scope of his job.
"Anything is good with me." You respond, crossing your arms and looking out the window angrily as he begins to drive.
You have many hindsight realisations on your way to work, that you really could have driven yourself. The only reason you were okay with Billy taking you is because he was going in the same direction anyway.
This just seemed like way too much time and effort to get you to work.
You try to make excuses for Billy, like maybe something urgent happened at work, or something personal, you didn't really know every aspect of his life now did you?
But you knew in the back of your head, that this was something he always does. He gets close, gives you blissful peace, and then pulls away, ignores you for a few days.
Frankly, you've hit your boiling point, and by the time you get to work, you're fuming.
You drop your things on your desk, and you give your coworker a big smile when she compliments your dress.
You'd worn it for him. Pathetic.
You make it up to his office, smiling at Katerina, his secretary, asking her if he's available and waiting for a yes before you knock on his door and enter when he says.
He doesn't even look up at you.
Taking notes at his desk, and there's just so much anger inside of you that you're not really thinking straight.
"Is there something you need?" He asks flatly, still not sparing you a single glance.
So he knows it's me, you think, and yet somehow he refuses to look up.
It cuts like betrayal.
"I can drive myself to work from now on, thank you."
He pauses, finally, looking up at you.
You watch him swallow.
"I insist, really, it's safer this way." He says.
"But inefficient," you counter, "To have Sergei go out of his way no doubt, when I have a perfectly good car."
He looks like he wants to argue, but can't form the right words.
He stands, eyebrows drawn, coming to stand in front of you.
It's probably a bad idea on his part, given your warped headspace, your eyes drop to his lips for a brief moment, before going back up to his dark eyes when he speaks.
"Very well, if you insist on driving, it's your choice."
You nod sharply, your throat closing up in despair. Was this the end of your friendship?
"Good." You say, no emotion in your tone, "One more thing."
"Yes?" He asks.
You swallow, grabbing the knot of his tie and pulling him down a little, while simultaneously rising onto your toes.
You don't give it a second thought, pressing your mouth to his.
It's like fireworks going off in your head, sparks spilling over and scattering into the farthest reaches of your mind.
You let out a little sigh of bliss into his mouth before releasing your grip on his tie.
You pull back from his mouth, taking a deep breath to apologise when suddenly his hands are on your hips. You feel the way his fingers twitch, as if he's fighting something bigger than you.
You gasp as he pulls you closer, body pressed tightly to his and you look up into his eyes.
He angles his head down, and his mouth is on yours once more.
He returns the kiss this time, with eager hums and steady pressure. It's greater than any other kiss you've ever experienced.
Your chest feels warm, your stomach flips, sizzling sparks work their way over your skin.
Your hands grip his shoulders, snaking their way up behind his neck.
He groans, hot breath into your parted mouth and you accept the sound greedily, more desperate for him than ever before.
He turns you, presses you up against his desk, braces his arms on either side of you for a moment before his hand cups the back of your neck securely.
It's all consuming, the way his mouth moves this way and that, the friction of his beard on your chin the taste of his mouth threatening to undo you.
His blunted fingers pressing tight into your skin, his hands wander your body, reaching for your knee, raising it to wrap around his hip. Your clothed center just barely brushes a hint of stiffness at the front of his pants and all you're thinking in various levels of enthusiasm is 'yes.'
The loud pitch of his ringing phone startles you. You shove him away quickly in surprise, gasping as you slide from your spot between him and his desk.
Your body is hot, cunt throbbing, skin hypersensitive and aching for his hands.
You suck in a big breath, smoothing your hair over in a panicked frenzy and running your hands down your dress.
Oh God.
Oh God.
Had you really just did that? Kissed him when you'd come in here to tell him off?
You try to take another measured breath but Billy seems to have taken all the air in the room with just one touch of his lips.
.
"Russo." Billy says, leaning over the desk, putting his phone on loudspeaker.
"Apologies for interrupting, but Miss Meachum is here and demanding to meet."
Billy huffs, of course he'd be interrupted by a Meachum. The entire family never understood boundaries.
He looks over at you, facing the windows, taking deep breaths and looking more and more flustered by the second.
"Tell her I'll be with her shortly." He says, hanging up right after.
He studies you, the ripe scent of your arousal filling the air. The panther tears at him, to sit you on his desk and follow through with exactly what he was about to do.
When he resists, the beast plants images of you writhing in pleasure as he licks your strawberry sweet cunt. His cock is half-hard, growing more erect with each second his mind replays what it was like to finally have your soft lips on his.
He swallows, opens his mouth to speak.
You beat him to it.
"I'll drive myself to work from now on." You utter harshly.
He watches in disbelief, mouth parted, as you head to the door, opening it and stepping out without so much as a glance at him.
It's all he needs to realize how much he's fucked up.
.
.
.
A/N: sorry 😞
454 notes · View notes
Hot in Herre
Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader
Rating: Teen and Up
Summary: Your insanely gorgeous boyfriend joins you in bed on a hot summer’s night, making you the envy of every woman in the city. Now if only your mind could muster up some decent dirty talk instead of playing that one song on repeat...
Story tags: Established Relationship, Lighthearted (aka silly) foreplay, Undeniable proof that the author is a cringey millennial
Author's notes: Guess who's back? Back again. ... Sorry. Wrong song. Anyways, here's a short and silly fic that came to me in the midst of our early-autumn heatwave. I wish I could say that more fics were on the way, but life is busy, so it would probably be a lie if I did.
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‘I’m going to bed,’ you said, draping your arms over Billy’s shoulders and kissing the top of his head. He was sitting at his desk in his home office, going over some Anvil reports, and would probably still be there by the time you fell asleep.
You didn’t like falling asleep without him, but such was life when you were the girlfriend of one of New York’s up and coming CEOs.
‘Night, babe,’ he said, lifting his hand to give your own a squeeze. He didn’t take his eyes off the screen, but you didn’t take it personally. He was still getting used to having someone else living in his apartment with him. Before you, Billy Russo had been a contented forever-bachelor with no intentions of ever settling down; time to adjust was to be expected.
You still didn’t know why it was you he wanted to keep – you were hardly the sort of bombshell seductress he was usually photographed with – but you were determined not to mess up and change his mind. So, you kissed his head again, and then reluctantly untangled yourself from him and left for the bedroom.
It didn’t take you long to get ready for bed. Falling asleep, however, was a totally different story. Summer was just ending, but the heat was clinging on for as long as it could, and even the solitary sheet you were using to cover yourself was too hot. You knew you could turn on the air conditioner, but without Billy, you would be too cold with it on. No doubt he would turn it on himself when he came to bed, but until then, another layer had to go.
You weren’t willing to sacrifice the sheet – you needed something covering you to fall asleep – and your shirt was little more than a tank top, so that left you pyjama bottoms the only option. You weren’t usually one to sleep in your underwear, feeling awkward even when alone, but these were extenuating circumstances.
With a bit of manoeuvring, you wriggled out of your pants and dropped them over the side of the bed. It was marginally better, but not enough to help you sleep.
You weren’t sure how long you lay there for, staring at the wall, but eventually you heard the blessed beep of the air conditioner turning on and the soft shuffle of Billy getting ready for bed. How he never walked into anything in the dark, you would never know.
Maybe it was all that marine training.
It only took a few minutes for the room to cool down, and just as you were starting to chill, the sheet lifted and Billy’s warm body pressed against you from behind.
Much better.
Billy’s hand casually settled on your thigh, and you could tell the exact moment he realised you were in one less layer than usual. His fingers stilled for a second before splaying across your skin, as if trying to reach as much of it as he could.
You made an involuntary hum of pleasure. You loved his touch, no matter how tame.
You heard a faint chuckle from behind you, and the hand on your thigh suddenly got a lot more confident, caressing and squeezing in a way that left no doubt to its owner’s intentions. ‘This is a nice surprise,’ he said, the velvet purr of his voice banishing all thoughts of sleep from your brain.
Who could even think about sleep when they had an amorous Billy Russo behind them?
‘Were you waiting for me?’ he continued in the same silky tone. His breath ghosted over the shell your ear, and the shiver you gave had nothing to do with the air conditioning.
‘It was too hot,’ you said simply, but you leaned your neck to the side and pressed your hips into his hardening groin, letting him know you were enjoying his attentions. ‘An item of clothing had to go.’
Billy attacked your neck with a flurry of kisses as his hand skirted up from your thigh to your waist, sliding under your tank top. ‘In that case,’ he said, his hand inching higher, dragging the fabric with it. ‘Maybe you should take this off as well. I have a feeling things are about to get very hot in here.’
You wished you could be as smooth as he was. You wished you could come up with a sexy reply said in a sultry bedroom voice that would have him flipping you over and ravishing you…
Instead, you giggled.
His hand froze, and you quickly turned in his arms before he could pull away. You buried your face into his bare chest.
He didn’t have a problem sleeping without layers.
‘I’m sorry,’ you said between the last few hitches of laughter. ‘You’re being very sexy and I’m very much here for it, but all I can think of is that damn song.’
You risked a glance upwards and saw that Billy was looking at you with an amused but quizzical eyebrow raised. ‘Song?’ he asked.
You wiggled your shoulders in a vague approximation of dancing. ‘It’s getting hot in here’—Billy grinned, instantly catching on—‘so take off all your clothes.’
Suddenly, Billy’s lips were on yours, cutting off your abysmal singing. By the time you both parted, you were well and truly breathless.
‘So, I didn’t ruin the mood, then?’ you asked.
Billy chuckled and shook his head. ‘Never,’ he said, eyes twinkling with an emotion you liked to think was love. It certainly looked like love.
But still, that nagging bit of insecurity remained. ‘You don’t mind that I’m terrible at dirty talk?’
You were on your back before you’d even finished your sentence, Billy hovering over you. He gave you another one of those all-consuming kisses. ‘I love that you’re terrible at dirty talk,’ he said once he had pulled away again. ‘I love that we can laugh and have fun in bed. I’ve never had that.’
You reached up and stroked your fingers down his cheek. Was that all it would take to keep this man whom you had quickly fallen in love with? Just be your idiotic self? It was hard to believe – it seemed too easy – but looking in his eyes, you knew it was true. He wanted to keep you simply because you were you.
You grinned from ear to ear as your heart soared.
‘In that case,’ you said in a poor imitation of his earlier seductive tone. You reached down to grab the hem of your tank top, and as you slowly pulled it upwards, you swayed your hips to a silent beat.
Billy’s laugh told you that he was hearing it loud and clear.
‘I am getting so hot, I wanna take my clothes off.’
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moni-logues · 1 year
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Germs
Pairing: Hoseok x reader (gn)
Genre: comfort, sick fic, established relationship
Word count: 1.4k
Summary: When you come down with the flu, the last thing you expect is your germophobic boyfriend to come to your aid. But Hoseok is full of surprises.
Content: I mean, honestly, nothing, reader is ill.
A/N: I'm feeling rusty and tired so the aim is to get out some short little drabbly bits! this is one of them! I have just written it in the last hour; it is unbeta'd and honestly, not thought through at all and not edited lmao but it's Hobi and it's cute so.
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You took a stuttering breath in and then let out an unexpectedly forceful sneeze. Hoseok’s head immediately appeared around the kitchen door where he was cleaning up dinner. 
“Was that a sneeze?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at you. 
“... No?”  
There was absolutely no denying but Hoseok had been telling you for two days now that you looked like you were coming down with something and you didn’t want him to be right. 
“Don’t lie to me,” he said, coming out of the kitchen fully. 
He threw a box of tissues at you and continued on to the bathroom, via the kitchen. When he came back, he sprayed the air in front of you with an antibacterial aerosol, he took out wipes for the TV control, your phone, the coffee table, the snacks on the table you had yet to open. He placed a glass of orange juice in your hand with vitamin C tablets and echinacea. He pressed a hand against your forehead and peered at you closely, looking for a glassy eye or unusual flush. He did all of this whilst wearing a mask.  
You had long given up trying to stop him—it was futile, which is why you had been so keen to deny the sneeze.  
When he was satisfied that you had taken the tablets and drunk your juice, he put a mask on you, too. 
“No taking chances, treasure. You are getting ill and I won’t have it.”  
You didn’t protest. You didn’t argue. Once he hit this point, there was no going back. You'd be sleeping in your own apartments for the next week at least. You also didn’t have the energy. Because you were pretty sure, too, that you were getting ill... If you were being honest.  
The next morning hit you over the head with a sledgehammer. Your body was lead. Your head was an anvil. Even the blood in your veins felt sluggish. You were sweating under the bed covers, stifled. You used all your energy to smack your alarm clock into silence and pick up your phone. You sent a message to your boss to let them know you would not be coming into work. Then you let your phone drop somewhere in the bed and tried to go back to sleep. 
But sleep wouldn’t come. You tossed and turned but every position made you ache. You were too hot and too cold. Your head felt thick and muggy but you felt too alert to sleep. Everything was wrong.  
You wanted a cool flannel on your forehead and some hot, healing broth. You wanted a blanket and a blast of fresh air. You wanted a cold shower and a nice, hot bath.  
You wanted a cuddle. You accepted that this would not be coming from your germophobic boyfriend, but a stuffed animal really wasn’t cutting it. You sent him a plaintive text and received a string of exclamation marks and emojis in return. He promised to send you soup but you wouldn’t have been able to get out of bed to receive it. He promised to send you medicine, but same deal.  
You knew it wouldn’t actually make the illness leave you any faster or make any physical difference to your body; you just wanted him close to you. His heart-shaped lips on your forehead, his long arms around your waist, his clean, musky smell. The comfort you felt in his arms, the security, the safety, the softness. You knew he wouldn’t come. He was an angel in all ways but his penchant for cleanliness. You knew his care-taking could not extend to comforting you while you were ill. It was just his thing. He had never said as much but you watched him clean feverishly; you had to listen to his chastising of you whenever you didn’t clean something the right way or enough or just let him do it. He was a perfectionist and it extended into every area of his life. Including germs. And you were riddled with them.  
You left your phone ignored and sank back into the damp, sweaty sheets and tried again to find sleep. 
It did, eventually, find you and you woke, hours later, to the echoing sound of knocking and a buzzing sensation somewhere near your legs. You flung your arm around beneath the duvet to find your ringing phone and answered it, speaking your very first words of the day. 
“Hello?”  
You sounded even worse than you thought you would. 
“Ohh, my girl, you sound so bad.” Hoseok sounded genuinely sympathetic. “Come and let me in, will you? I’ve been knocking at your door for ages.” 
It must have been a fever dream. Hoseok at your door? Hoseok entering the sick bay? Surely not. But the knocking came again from the other side of your apartment and his voice rang through the phone, asking to be let in.  
“Ok, hold on,” you wheezed into the phone before hanging up. 
With tremendous effort, you pulled your leaden body into a sitting position and gave yourself a few seconds to balance yourself. Then you stood carefully and shuffled to the front door. You had to pause, holding yourself up on the door frame, exhausted from the short walk there. You weren’t entirely sure you were not about to pass out and if that was going to happen, you really had to open the door before it. So you took a deep breath and pulled it open. 
Hoseok gasped and immediately put his arm around your waist, taking your weight on him as you stepped backwards and let him into the apartment. You let him lead you back into the bedroom but he took one look at the bed and steered you out again, setting you down gently on the sofa. He was still wearing a mask and you saw him click open a small bottle of hand sanitiser from the bag he’d brought with him.  
“Have some water,” he said gently, placing a bottle on the coffee table in front of you, alongside some painkillers and yet more vitamin C.  
Then he disappeared and you heard him fussing in the bedroom. He came out with an armful of laundry and put it in the washing machine. He walked back into the bedroom where he fussed some more. He took several trips back and forth between the supplies he had brought with him and your bedroom. He checked in on you to make sure you were drinking the water he’d brought. He made you a cup of herbal tea. You heard the fridge open and shut but couldn’t see what he’d been putting in or taking out.  
At some point, you nodded off again, this time sweating into the sofa cushions and shivering with no blanket. When you woke up, you had been transported.  
The room was bathed in a soft, warm glow; the sheets you were lying on were crisp and clean and smelt fresh like detergent; the air smelt fresh, too, clean, not too strong. You were too warm, again, but it wasn’t just your body this time. It was the body of the man pressed against you, his arms around you, his head resting against yours. 
“Hobi?” you asked, your voice not quite yet woken from your sleep. You cleared your throat and tried again.  
He pulled back to look at you. 
“Hey, treasure, are you feeling any better?” His voice was soft and quiet, as if being too loud might hurt you.  
His fingers were light as they brushed against your cheek. His lips were as soft as you wanted when he pressed them to your forehead. 
“What are you doing here?” you asked.  
“What do you mean? I’m here to take care of you! Of course I am!” 
You couldn’t work out if it was your flu-riddled brain that was making you stupid or that Hoseok really wasn’t making sense. 
“Why would you take care of me? I’m ill.” 
“Yes, that’s why you need taking care of. Has the fever fried your brain that badly?” 
You used what little strength you possessed to push back from him. You looked up at him with a deep frown and his pretty, open face looked back, his lips lifted at the corners in a gentle smile, his eyes sparkling, his hair falling slightly into his eyes.  
“But I have germs. You hate germs.” 
He chuckled and pulled you back into him, pressing a kiss into your hair. 
“I hate germs,” he conceded. “But I love you.” 
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rd0265667 · 1 year
Text
Haerin x Reader: Take a Break
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A/N: This is alot shorter than my normal works. Didn't really have time to develop a plot or anything, but I just needed to write this out to make myself feel a little better. Was a little hesitant on releasing this, but I thought, if anyone of my beloved readers is going through a stressful situation right now, like I am, every little bit helps. I hope this fic helps.
Permanent Taglist: @cwpiqwon@justme-idle
"Haerin-unnie, when are you going to get back? I've never seen it so bad." Haerin heard Hyein's slightly worried voice through her phone, sighing as she shook her head. "I'll be there in a little bit." Haerin replied, hastening her stride as she went to the dorm.
Knocking on the door of the dorm, Haerin taps her foot slightly impatiently, before seeing Hyein's head peeking out of the door. "Y/N, your wife's here!" Hyein shouted as she let Haerin in, Haerin rolling her eyes but smiling at what Hyein had said. Haerin was slightly taken aback by the sight she was faced with. Your hair was a mess, notes sprawled all across the table, eye bags heavier than anvils, all the while your eyes seemed to not need to blink. "Babe, how long have you been studying for?" Haerin asked, concerned by the sight she was presented with. "Oh, hey Babe!" You replied, seemingly going through a mental pause, not replying to Haerin's question. "Babe, did you hear me?" Haerin walking over to you, putting her hand on your shoulder "Oh yeah sure, we can go out soon!" You answered, clearly aloof as you looked through your notes again.
"I didn't know it was this bad..." Haerin said as she sat next to Hyein on her bed. "Yeh, Y/N's been really stressed out by the national exams coming up soon. Never seen them like this before. It's kinda creepy." Hyein commented, a look of slight apprehension on her face as she recalled walking in on Y/N singing the element song. While Sleeping.  "It really hasn't been this bad before...Why didn't they tell me?"  "They don't want to be a burden to you...you know the way they are about these situations..." Hyein said with a sigh. "I have an idea." Haerin said, Hyein looking at her with curiosity
No matter how much you wanted to study with no breaks, nature had its callings, and eventually, you had to leave your work station to answer nature's calling. When you got back however, to your dismay, you saw your computer turned off, and your notes gone. "Oh, hey Babe, when did you get here!" You exclaimed in surprise, before trying to look for your notes Haerin's jaw dropped, this was...bad. "I gave your notes to Hyein, who's under strict orders to not come back for the next 5 hours." Haerin said, causing your head to jerk towards her. "Why?" You asked, voice raising slightly, head tilting to the side "You need a break Y/N, just for a few hours." Haerin pleaded, but you turned away, going to try to turn your computer on "I've put your computer under several layers of locks. I know you'll be able to crack it, but it's going to take you give or take 5 hours. So here are your options. 1. You spend the next 5 hours to try and crack my encryption, or 2. You use the 5 hours to rest and relax with your loving girlfriend, after which, the password to the security will be provided for you." Haerin explained, before patting the empty space beside her. Weighing your options, you eventually gave in, walking over to her, then resting your head on her shoulder. "I brought you your favourites, and I thought we could watch a movie while you rest." Haerin whispered, prompting a nod from you as you pulled the containers from the bag Haerin had brought over, Haerin always knew what you needed. So that was how the next two hours went, your mental stress slowly being alleviated by the presence of your girlfriend as she pampered and spoon-fed you. As the credits rolled, you felt Haerin's arm tighten around you. "Do you wanna tell me about what's gotten into you?" Haerin asked as she gently stroked your hair "It's just usual exam stuff Babe." You tried to lie to Haerin, albeit rather unconvincingly, as Haerin shot you a look "Let's try again, and this time, mean it." With a sigh, you lowered your head. "My grades have been on the decline for so long now, you know this. At first it was still acceptable, but now it's getting bad. If I don't put 200% into this, how can I go and look my parents in the eye. Look you in the eye." Your voice lowered as your shame began to overcome you. Wordlessly, Haerin turned you towards her, giving you a reassuring look as she took your hand in hers, setting your hand on your chest. Maybe this was some special technique Haerin knew, or maybe Haerin was just magic, but it worked, as you slowly felt yourself calm down. Haerin then pulled you into a tight hug, whispering words that you really needed to hear. "It's going to be okay. You can do this" You felt some moistness in your eyes, but you quickly wiped it away, then pulling her into you, resting your head on her chest. "Thank you Rin." You whispered, Haerin nodding as she held you tight, whispering sweet nothings to you
Sometimes, it's alright to take a break. To take a moment from the hectic world and spend time with the ones you love. 
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