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lamb-teaa · 5 months ago

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` Transactional Tantrum

` pairing: Sylus x fem!reader

` tags: fluff. romcom. silly shenanigans. filthy rich Sylus. chaotic!reader cuz we all want to be spoiled and provided by him don't lie 🫵🏻

` teaa's note: where can i get a husband like Sylus (⁠ ⁠⚈̥̥̥̥̥́⁠⌢⁠⚈̥̥̥̥̥̀⁠)

People hail him as a powerful man amongst all existing factions in the N109 Zone, yet even someone like Sylus isn't immune to the dread of a tedious business dealings.

Don't get him wrong, it is practically his job for a lack of better words but you can't blame the man for nearly dying out of boredom at the moment.

Ping!

A sudden notification from his phone tore his attention away from his yammering business partners. Sylus briefly glanced down at his phone, brows furrowed in confusion when he read the transaction alert message on his screen.

'Ten million was charged to your Credit Card at Summers Jewelry'

Sylus didn't even have the chance to ponder over the sudden message further when he was suddenly startled by another barrage of notifications - yes, plural notifications.

'Four million was charged to your Credit Card at M&Hs'

'Six million was charged to your Credit Card at Nebulas'

'Eight million was charged to your Credit Card at Zapple'

Despite the deadpan expression on his face and his usual nonchalance silence, the slightest quirk of his brows were enough to give away his bewildered reaction to seeing such random transaction alerts on his card.

He doesn't recall making any on-hold purchases and certainly didn't give the twins any permission to spend any after the last time they went all out using his card in the past.

Which means only one person would be bold enough to overspend his money on a whim like this and his eyes instantly flickered in amusement when another transaction message came through his phone.

'Thirteen million was charged to your Credit Card at Abyssal Attire'

Seems like a certain kitten is on a wild spending spree.

Observing the transaction alerts, Sylus let out a low chuckle, ignoring the strange looks from his business partners who continued on with their discussion.

His sole attention now was you - his lovely kitten spending all his money with reckless abandon.

As his thumb hovered over the icon of your picture on his phone, he couldn't help but grin at the large purchases you made - given the fact you had always been reluctant to spend on his card before despite the countless times he had reassured you that he wants you to use his money to your heart's content.

Sylus, without a doubt, always wants the best for you. Even when you nagged him on buying such expensive gifts before, yet that will never stop him from spoiling you rotten.

Though.. he wondered what sparked this sudden influx of random purchases this first time around?

With his interest now piqued towards you, Sylus strode out of the conference room without a care in the world, especially when said discussion had led to no satisfying result on his end, thus he neither bothered about the frustrated and flabbergasted looks of the businessmen as he made his way along the hallways of the building.

Luke and Kieran, who's been by his side the entire meeting, automatically followed their boss out. Both brothers exchange curious looks from behind their masks with a shrug. Though they had great knowledge that only two things could spring their boss out of his usual routine - an unexpected ambush or well, you.

And it seemed like they were right on the nose as they watched Sylus’s thumb pressed onto the screen of his phone before bringing the device close to his ear, an amused yet genuine smile curled on their fierce leader's lips as he called out your name.

"Is it just me or a certain kitten is behaving quite impulsively with her spending today?” His voice held a steady yet teasing affection tone, his mind already picturing your smug expression at overspending his money. “This is a first, sweetie.”

"Oh look who finally remembered me!" Your voice snapped, the snarky and sarcastic response made Sylus pause in his track in surprise.

Before he could say anything, you cut him off, your voice faux innocent under a thinly veiled anger from the other line. "To think it took blowing your credit card to call me after making me wait for you the past THREE hours, you better have some explaining to do mister!”

To say you had left Sylus utterly speechless would be an understatement of the century, but it quite frankly did as your unexpected anger left his mind reeling in both confusion and worry.

Even his brief frozen state wasn't left unnoticed by Luke and Kieran, both could heard your snappy voice from the other line and they know an unhappy Miss Hunter equals to a agitated Onychinus leader, so they quietly watched in as Sylus slowly recover from his initial surprise before turning his attention back to the phone call.

“Kitten.” Sylus blinked, a frown forming on his lips, "I don't recall us having plans today? And I'm out of town for the time being as well.”

There was a sudden silence from your side, and for a second there Sylus thought you had hung up on him but your next words made him even more confused.

"Wait, what, I thought Luke and Kieran said you'd be free for the weekend and they'd told you about our date for today?"

At the mention of the twins, Sylus's head immediately snapped towards his henchmen who visibly tensed up. It didn't take long for Sylus to put two and two together that Luke and Kieran had pulled another of their mischievous pranks on you.

Oh but this one is definitely going to cost them their four months worth of paycheck for making his kitten angry at him.

"It seems like the twins have made a mistake. I wasn't aware of such plans today." Sylus's voice dropped low and dangerous, a flicker of annoyance as he shot the tensed twins a hard glare.

Though, knowing it would be no use to him to be mad at them at that moment, Sylus paused briefly once more before taking a deep breath, calming himself down. "I assure you, sweetie, I would never intentionally forget anything, especially when it's about you.”

There was another stretch of silence before you spoke up again, your voice softer and apologetic, wincing in guilt for assuming he'd purposely ditched you when that wasn't the case. "I'm sorry.." You sighed quietly. "I just.. I was looking forward to seeing you today and I.. I missed you, Sy.."

His annoyance instantly melted away at your confession. He understood that his work often kept him away, leaving you feeling neglected at times and he wanted nothing more than to rush to your side and hold you dearly in his arms. You always had a way to tug at his heartstrings and even then he relishes at the admission of you needing him as much as he needed you.

"I'll make it up to you, right now. Anything you want, name it." Sylus emphasized seriously, already giving Luke and Kieran a look of command. Not needing any further words as the twins bolted off to prepare his private jet to head back to Linkon.

"Well, you could start by allowing me to strangle those twins." You chirped, your voice brighter now yet held intentional malice mostly directed towards his loyal henchmen for tricking you with false information regarding Sylus's work schedule.

"And cuddles. I expect to see you at my place later tonight for cuddles or else I'll empty your entire bank account." You demanded sweetly, with a clearly joking threat but given you had waited three whole hours like a fool in public, you were tempted to do it again if Sylus bails on you twice in a day.

Your laughter tinkled over the phone, a lovely sound that never ceases to make Sylus's heart swell with blissful affection. The business deal be damned and he'll handle the twins' antics another time, for now, all he wanted was to go back to you.

Sylus chuckled, a warm smile tugging at his lips despite himself as he made his way up the building's rooftop. He knew his kitten was quite a force to be reckoned with, and yet such side of you made him drawn to you even more than ever - oh, he couldn't wait to see you again soon. "Deal. Cuddles it is, and you have my word, sweetie, I'll be at your doorstep by tonight. As for the twins, well, I'm sure they'll be begging for mercy by the time you're done with them.”

Back to your awaiting loving embrace.

#get a man who spoils you rotten like Sy-Sy 🥹#why is he not real ORZ #sylus x you #sylus x reader #sylus x y/n #sylus x mc #lads fluff #lads sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace scenarios #love and deepspace #lads fanfic #also wrote this on a whim due to stress work so it's not my best but at least got it outta my system :')

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acid-ixx · 6 months ago

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I feel like they are the type of mf to stalk you in game bruh.

Like imagine Tim playing dress to impress just to vote you a 5 star no matter if your fits are trash lol. (Hell all of them might do it)

Or maybe your playing some sort of RPG game, and you said to your in game friends about how you wanted a skin and BOOM you immediately got it first try when you gacha lol. (Tim)

— masterlist !

as much as i love writing yandere angst, i always border on the softer spectrum of it, so when it comes to interpreting your life post-kidnapping: i'll say that the family is a bit more lenient (as if it's enough to make you feel a semblance of freedom) to you when it comes to pastimes like gaming as long as you're always being monitored, especially in online games...

that translates to you being stalked at every opportunity every time you use your bugged phone...

they're always breathing down your neck, so you think you have privacy even when playing alone? when heaven forbid the surrounding cameras all over your room, all set-up by tim and his invasive ass, just so he could have constant surveillance over every movement or hobby of yours?

there's eyes on you all the time, but you'd never expect that it's to the point that they'll join all the games you play if it means spending some "bonding" time with you whenever you push them away from physically being in the same room as you.

so if it means playing lousy obbies in roblox, or even "girly" games like dress to impress, for hours, then they'll join you without moment's hesitation. you'll be shocked at just how well tim and damian style their clothes, but nobody's beating steph and cass at their game. and despite you feeling down in the dumps at the times you feel inferior towards them and their expertise, or just how well each of them communicating with each other, and you, feeling out of place everytime.

it's an undeniable fact that it's you always winning and ranking first place.

they'll always lower themselves, or won't even try so you'd always be in the spotlight even if you ask them to play fairly.

oh, by the way, never ask any one of them to duo with you. they automatically see it as you crowning one of them as your favorite— you don't want to see another fight ensue just because you voted one of their fits better than the other.

you could be shit at the obbies, constantly missing your jumps and close to snapping your device in half— then suddenly you have the game passes to skip certain levels. suddenly, you have an entire cheer team waiting with baited breaths every time you finish a jump, only to cheer and celebrate once you finish a particularly hard level.

oh, you're in a shitty dress to impress server with unfair voting? don't worry, barbara's faster behind the scenes, finding pro servers for you to join in. the entire family's already at your beck and call (even if you've never asked them in the first place) every time you mouth a complaint, each statement of yours taken more seriously than the missions they have every night as vigilantes.

and once bruce catches the news that you want robux just to buy the VIP and custom makeup game pass for dress to impress, or literally any games? god, he's like your mr. salt to you, his sweet veruca, willing to buy the entire game, hell, even the gaming companies you play on.

just, you know, if you don't want them showing their affection directly, then they'll do so by servicing you through the games you play.

any game currency is immediately bought by bruce, all transferred to your account, no matter how expensive it is because he sees it's what makes you happy, watching you burn off all the money on your avatar's design, or certain gacha characters you're fond of, with your eyes staring at the screen in awe with no worries about becoming broke.

it just makes him want to... hold you like you're a little kid spoiled by their father who loves them so much, who should've loved them from the start.

your siblings have an unspoken competition on who could grind on your account the most while you're afk, just so they could see your meek smile plastered on your adorable face seeing that you have the proper resources on your inventory.

you know, it makes them feel useful to you. it makes dick feel like the dependable older brother who's the first one you approach whenever you need him to play for you whilst you go to the bathroom. tim even learns every game mechanic in parkour games so he could assist you during the moments you struggle.

as cute as you are on his computer screen in one of the cameras surveying your room, pouting as you look at the screen at another failed level, tim wants to be as every bit your favorite, the guy you see as the geeky nerd in the family so he'll be the only one you approach to help you out (you don't even have to ask him, his eyes are always on you).

jason's good at point and shoot games, he gives you oddly realistic tips too so you could aim right at players and eventually secure your spot. it makes him huff with joy whenever you win competitive games 'cause you always jump and cheer, forgetting the boundaries you've set with personal space, just to thank him with a hug and your rare grins that feeds the greedy parts of him only wanting to see your smile all for himself.

so, really, everything's fine with them, as long as it doesn't disrupt your quality time with your family in real time and you don't hurt yourself over losing that they're happy you're enjoying. as long as you're not pushing them away and not-so eagerly accepting their online presence, then maybe you could find an actual routine to enjoy every time you open your phone to play a game.

maybe you'll learn to smile or laugh with them too when you're all in the same room playing together.

maybe, just maybe.

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woewriting · 1 year ago

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turning point (g!p)

pairing: tara carpenter | reader summary: tara calls you to rescue her from a bad date and things take a surprising turn. word count: 3726 warnings: mdni, +18 only! no ghostface au, reader has a dick, friends with benefits (?), clothed sex, language, smut in general. a/n: will you guys believe if i say the date part was inspired by a terrible date my coworker had? because it was and @wesstars is the proof of it!

masterlist

When the 7th episode of season 4 of Stranger Things started you felt your phone vibrating somewhere in between the cozy blankets. As you blindly looked for it, eyes focused on the TV in front of your bed, you felt it vibrating once again, but this time more than once.

Holding the phone in your hands, the name “tara” followed by a small heart emoji showed on the screen with 4 messages attached to it. Pausing the episode, you unlocked the device.

tara ♥︎ can you come pick me up? please this is the worst date ever 😭

Sewing your eyebrows together, you were quick to reply, asking for her location.

tara ♥︎ im at the motel near the campus, green valley or something chad is showering and i told him i’d take an uber home because i wasn't feeling well and didn’t want to stay anymore please come fast

Typing a simple “omw”, you grabbed your hoodie, throwing it over the white tank top you usually wore to sleep along with sweat shorts that easily became a second skin.

It was easy to spot the building as a gigantic green neon sign took over most of the illumination of the empty street. You parked in front of it, patiently waiting for your best-friend as you sent a message letting her know you arrived. The place seemed expensive and well cleaned, unlike most cheap motels that took over the right side of the street near the campus of your college, still, it didn't appetize you to walk in.

Soon, the younger Carpenter ran towards you, sighing in relief when she jumped into the car.

“That bad, huh?” You asked with a laugh, setting the first gear ready to go back home.

“You have no idea.” Tara whined, turning on the heat, complaining about how cold it was outside in a whisper. “I'll tell you everything when we get home.”

“I'm watching Stranger Things.” The focus on the road in front of you as you took a right turn didn't allow you to see the indignation expression on her face, more dramatic than it was necessary.

“Is Stranger Things more important than me?”

“I’m about to find out what happened at the Hawkins Lab…” You continued, trying to convince her of your cause, but her next words made you look at her with raised eyebrows, a convinced smile of someone who won drawing her lips.

“He has a small dick.”

“I'm all ears, princess.”

The return home didn’t take more than 10 minutes, especially with empty roads and yellow sign lights. Tara started telling about her date from the second it started, which was 5PM, the exact time she started to get ready. Honestly, none of that was necessary to reach the part that it all went downhill, but you didn’t dare to interrupt, you paid attention to every word Tara was saying as you carefully parked your car in your designated spot.

The second the elevator stopped on your floor, Tara had finished telling you about the dinner part of her date.

According to her, the food wasn't bad, but the place was crowded and the music playing was so annoying that it became a bit too much for her. It was already hard to pay attention to anything Chad was saying as the others' conversation was caught in the middle, stealing her attention, all she could was nod and smile, like one of the Penguins from Madagascar.

You laughed at her indignation and the small wrinkle in between her eyebrows, opening the door and giving her space to walk in. Kicking your shoes away, the both of you automatically walked to the door at the end of the small hallway of your apartment, the episode 7 of Stranger Things’ last season still on pause when you sat on the bed being followed by Tara; Jamie Campbell’s beautiful blue eyes on the screen.

“... and after we got to the motel, things were heating up and his hands were on my ass and he kept pushing me against him and…” Tara stopped talking after noticing the disgusted expression on your face as you made yourself comfortable on the bed. The girl sat right by your side. “I will not spare any details.”

“I’m seriously considering automatically deleting every explicit part of it.” You retorted, shifting uncomfortably against the headboard.

Despite the years of friendship you and Tara had, from Junior High all the way to college — where you both were right now, nothing touchy ever happened between the two of you, not even a single, drunk kiss at parties. You two were close, of course, but not this close, and hearing the vulgar words easily slipping out of her mouth was creating a weird feeling inside your chest.

“I don’t care.” The girl rolled her eyes, moving closer to you. “Continuing, Chad is gentle, nice, and it feels good to be with him, but ugh… I couldn’t even feel anything when I was sitting on his lap.” You let out a small laugh, scratching your eyebrow. That wasn’t the first time Tara rambled about a bad date, but this was Chad, a common friend, and someone that the young Carpenter had a genuine interest in. At this point, that interest had disappeared into thin air. “And when he removed his pants, he had this military patch underwear and black socks on and it was a huge turn off.”

“Black socks really do sucks…”

“I know!” The exasperated way she agreed with you made you laugh, her hand resting near your knee. “Can you believe he didn’t want to take them off? He said he has cold feet.” Her face fell against your thigh, a tired sighing leaving her mouth, hot breath hitting your bate skin. “I should’ve ran when he said that.” Tara mumbled.

Your hand naturally rested on her head in a soft petting, “You really should have.”

The brunette moved a little, laying on her side with her cheek still resting on your leg to feel the soothing moves of your fingers on her hair. The new position gave her a small vision of what's beneath the thick fabric of your shorts, the hem of black boxers peeking through. She looked away, crimson color on her cheeks as she continued the events of the night.

“But, it’s Chad, so I decided to ignore that ridiculous sock and continue.” You nodded your head. “He removed that equally annoying underwear and I swear to God! It was smaller than my hand, and my hands aren’t that big! Look.” To prove her point, she held your other hand, measuring it with her own. She intertwined your fingers together after you agreed with her, resting them both on her chest. “But I was like… okay, it’s not big but maybe he can be good with his tongue.”

“Oh, God.” You choke, closing your eyes. “I will never be able to look at him again.”

“Imagine how I feel!” Tara whined. “But then I thought to myself, he’s a terrible kisser; if he doesn’t know how to use his tongue on my mouth, imagine how bad it’ll be when he use it on my pu—”

“Okay! Let’s not use those explicit words, please.” You interrupted her, shifting again. “But damn, is that guy good at anything?”

“He has a nice body… from the waist up.” This time neither of you could hold back the laugh, the delightful sound of her laughing mixed with yours filled the room for a couple minutes, your hand still playing with the soft strands that spread across your leg. “Chad is a nice guy, but… that’s not enough for me, you know? I crave touching, feeling something. And he was so small I would barely feel anything.” Tara cried out, covering her face with her free hand as the other still held yours against her chest.

“I’m not a sexual freak or anything but I agree, at least the kiss has to be good. So that’s when you messaged me?”

“I wish.” It was your turn to sigh loudly. “We kept going and when I asked him to wear protection, you won’t believe it…”

“He didn’t have any?”

“Oh, he did.” She bit her lower lip, hand still covering her eyes as the images played like a broken record behind her closed lids. “After that awkward moment where he put it on, he got soft.”

“Maybe it was too tight or something, that can be an annoying bother.” You tried defending your friend, but the girl denied with her head, pursing her lips together, deciding if she should say it or not, but after all the details she already had shared, this one wouldn’t matter either.

“It was loose. It was the smallest size and it still was big for him.”

“Jesus Christ. I am deleting every photo I have with him. I can’t bear looking him in the eyes after knowing all of that.” Once again, your laugh filled the bedroom, making Tara look at you with narrowed eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Is it me?” You tilted your head to the side in confusion. “Am I the problem?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe I’m a terrible kisser and that’s why it didn’t fit.” She explained, looking at you.”Do you think I’m hot?”

“Where did that come from?”

“The deepest part of my curious brain.” Tara sat back up, resting her hand and yours on her thigh. “Now answer me, am I hot?”

“You are hot, Tara.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure the problem wasn’t you. Maybe he was just nervous to be with you, I don’t know.”

“That does make me the problem.” Her eyes never left yours, looking for a small sign of a lie that was never found; after all, you did find Tara hot. “Why did you never kiss me?”

You let out a deep sigh. “Because we’re friends.”

“You kiss your friends. Amber, Mindy, and I’m sure you tried to kiss my sister once too.”

“Please, don’t bring that to the table.” The pinkish tone that colored your cheeks made the other smile. “And it’s different, they’re just friends, and you’re my best friend.”

Tara moved on the bed, sitting on her calves, still looking at you, and still holding your hand.

“Kiss me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Kiss me.”

You let out an awkward, breathy laugh, trying to pull your hand from hers and moving away just a bit, but the brunette was determined, you could see it in the dark brown eyes.

“Stop joking around, Carpenter.” You said one more time, her slender fingers tracing random patterns on your thigh with her free hand, feeling the goosebumps all over your skin, big bambi eyes staring at you. “Tara…”

“Please…” She cried out, the tip of her fingers trespassing the hem of your shorts, only a few centimeters away from your clothed cock. You could already feel it twitching inside your boxers just from those small touches. “I just wanna prove to myself that I can do it and that there’s nothing wrong with me. You, as my best friends, should help me with that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, I truthfully believe you can get someone hard.”

“Then why wasn’t he hard?”

“Maybe it was just a bad day or he was nervous, I don’t know.” You repeat what you said earlier, hoping that it was enough for the small girl. It clearly wasn't though.

“But we were having fun! He was sweet, polite, respectful, and paid for dinner and the motel, which was not cheap. It makes no sense!” She whined like a spoiled kid. Tara sat on your thighs, holding your face in her hands. “Lemme touch you. Please.”

“Can’t we just watch Stranger Things and forget about this terrible date?” You asked in hopes she would let that stupid idea go; she obviously didn’t.

“We can, after we kiss.” Tara fixed herself on top of you, moving up. Your hands instantly grabbed her waist, before she could sit on your hips. “You know I won’t stop.”

“You’re like the donkey from Shrek.” You writhe under her.

“Please…”

“Dear Lord.” Your head fell back, hitting the soft headboard. “Why does it have to be me? And now?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” The girl shrugged. “Plus, you never let me see it.”

“I swear you have the strangest obsession with my dick.”

“I’m just curious about it.” Feeling the loosen on your grip, Tara moved slightly up, sitting right on top of it. “And I can definitely feel it.” The brunette pushed herself down, biting her lower lip.

“Please, stop moving.” You whined, trying to hold her still, but she was determined, you could see it in her eyes. It wasn’t going to take long before your underwear became a bother. “Tara, I’m warning you.”

“You sound so hot, you should use that tone with me more often.” Her hands grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, pulling you closer until her mouth was yours. You didn’t stop her or kissed her back, but your grip on her waist grew stronger. She smiled against your lips, one of her hands sliding down your body, nails scratching your belly under your hoodie, threatening to trespass the waist of your shorts. “Can I touch you?”

You gulped hard, staring at the brown eyes that looked soft, unlike her hands. “Are you sure you want to do this? There's no point of return.” Tara nodded fast, not giving a second thought to it, playing with the waist of your shorts. “You can touch me.”

When you gave Tara permission to touch you, you thought the girl was going to wrap her hands around your soft shaft, but all she did was kiss you, slowly and enticing, and this time you kissed her back. Your hands on her waist helped her move against your lap, grinding on you at a torturous pace.

You wanted to turn around, change your positions so you could control whatever it was about to happen, but you allowed her to be in charge; this was all about Tara proving to herself she’s not the problem, right? So you held back the urge.

Tara’s hands moved up again, wrapping around your neck as she got closer, pushing herself down on you, moaning against your parted lips when she felt your dick pressing on her even though you weren’t hard.

Her kiss trailed down your neck, gently nibbling on the skin there. You threw your head back, moving your hands down her ass, under the skirt of her dress to push her harder against you, increasing her hips’ speed.

“Fuck…” You let out a sharp breath, completely affected by the delicate touches coming from your best-friend, and that only made her more eager to pleasure you.

“Do you like this?” Tara whispered in your ear, softly biting on your lobule, tracing the cartilage with her teeth. All you could do was nod. She could feel you slowly getting hard against her ass.

Licking your lips, you thrust your hip up in a strong move, making the both of you moan lowly. You could come just with that friction if she continued moaning with her mouth so close to your ear, only for you to hear it.

Tara’s hands trailed down your body once again, but this time she pushed down the elastic of the waistband of your gray shorts, in a silent request for you to remove it. She lifted herself just enough for it to slide down your legs, pooling just before your knees, the black boxer still hugging your thighs tightly.

She didn’t want to look down, too shy to do so, but when she sat back against your bulge, it was impossible to not look at it. She pursed her lips together, the moan choked in the back of her throat as she felt you pressing hard against her. A wet spot taking form on the dark, thin cloth the more she rolled her hips on you.

It was an agonizing pain to let Tara in control of the situation. You could feel the warmth and wetness dripping for her cunt, you would easily slide in her, if she allowed you to. But you didn’t know how far she wanted to go with you, after all, this was just a test to see if she could get you hard, and she definitely could as she felt you twitching against her in desperate need to release.

This could've stopped here and now, you were hard after all, but in a bold move, her hand slipped into your underwear, her hand holding your dick in a hard squeeze that almost made you scream against her mouth. Pulling your length out, Tara wrapped her hand around your shaft, moving it up and down in a provocative way, smiling against your parted lips. Her eyes were dark, staring at you with luxury dripping from the brownish just like she was dripping on your thighs. You could feel the hot, thick liquid oozing on your skin as she rubbed herself on you.

“Fuck, Tara.” You breathed out again, broken, lewdly.

The brunette dipped her hand in her own underwear, eyes threatening to close as she rounded her swollen clit with two fingers, but she kept them open with a wicked expression on her face. Tara pulled her dress up, giving you the privileged view of her ruined underwear, the white fabric completely transparent. You couldn’t help yourself as your finger traced the wet stain, Tara’s mouth hanging open at the agonizing slow touch.

“Stop.” She asked in a trembled voice, shakingly holding your hand with flushed cheeks. “I don’t wanna cum like this.”

“And how do you wanna cum?”

Letting go of your hand, she watched with focused eyes as you took two of your fingers in your mouth, sucking at the slick that coated them with a satisfied hum. Tara seriously considered saying she wanted to ride your face and fall apart on your lips, but she just, messily, removed her underwear. A thin line of arousal followed the cloth as she tossed it somewhere in your bedroom, your mouth watering at that.

Tara pulled your boxer slightly down just enough for your member to be released, proudly hitting your lower belly, before placing herself on top of your cock, the blood flowing in your veins reverberating against her clit, making both of you choke on your breath. She fitted your length in between her slick folds, almost crying at the warm feeling.

She started grinding on you, shaking at every small move.

“This feels so fucking good.”

Throwing her head back, Tara supported her weight on her arms, gaining a fast pace. Your hands held the skirt of her dress up, giving you the perfect view of her shining cunt, smearing herself all over your cock. You could feel that tight knot on your stomach at that.

Moving one of your hands up and taking the dress with it, you crossed a barrier when you exposed her perfect tits, holding the stiff nipple with your thumb and index finger in a hurtful squeeze, earning yourself a crying moan that only made you throb against her center, while the other hand bruised the skin of her ass. You could see the red marks of your fingers all over her waist.

Pulling her torso towards you, your lips wrapped around her other nipple, trembling your tongue on the hardened nub, making Tara’s hands pull on your hair, keeping you close to her chest. Her hips started to lose speed, squirming in your arms as she neared her release; you weren’t going to last much, not when she started whispering your name over and over, shakingly violently in your arms. You came right after her, shooting thick ropes of cum directly into your hoodie.

Your arms were fast to hold her against you, keeping her body close as you came down from your high together. Tara's head fell on your shoulder, her hot breath tickling the skin of your neck, you could feel her smile.

“You okay?” Being the first one to break the silence, you asked in a soft voice, running your hands up and down her back, feeling her heart beating like crazy; yours weren't different, smashing itself against your ribcage.

“I'm great.” She mumbled out, weak and out of breath. “Are you okay?”

Feeling the nod of your head, she pulled away from her hiding spot. When you met her eyes, a pinkish color was filling the skin around her cheekbones, coloring the freckles that spread across her face, and unlike you were wondering inside your head, things didn't look awkward after that; Tara still had that familiar, warm look in her eyes when she leaned in to place a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips.

“Are you proud of yourself?”

“For making you cum without barely touching you?” Tara laughed in a proud voice, avoiding looking down as she felt your length still comfortably placed in between her slick folds.

Your hands were firm on her waist when you lifted her hips, guiding the tip of your cock against her sensitive bundle of nerves before slowly sliding in her cunt at the same time she fell back on your thighs, trying to catch her breath at the sudden invasion. A small smile on her face at the feeling of being full, her velvety walls clenching hard around your shaft, still recovering from her orgasm.

“For the fact that I'm still pretty hard.” Pressing kisses over her jawline, you thrusted up, a surprised moan escaping her throat. “Can you feel it? How hard I am? How good I'm filling you?”

“Yes…” She choked out, wrinkling your hoodie in her fingers, trying to find support on your shoulders when your hands forced her up, your member coated in a thin layer of her arousal before sliding her back down. “I'm very proud of myself.” The breathy confession made you smile against her neck, softly biting on her jugular before your movements gained a steady rhythm, mixing with the wet sounds and the melody tone of her voice calling out your name for every neighbor to hear.

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ddejavvu · 2 years ago

Note

I’d love to see a jake seresin x secret wife au. The dagger squad doesn’t realize he’s married until Phoenix invites reader out to the bar with them! Thanks you’re the best!!

You're reminded just how little you know Natasha when she invites you out for drinks, and you end up at the bar adjacent to the naval base. You've been inside only once with Jake before, when you were still dating and he was going through training at top gun. Now he's a graduate, and the place brings back fond memories. You've chatted, of course, when she stops by for breakfast at the bakery you work for, but you've never discussed her career before.

"Hope you don't mind we're close to base," She grins, "My friends wanted to meet here, and I get free drinks 'cause the bartender likes me. They have this bell system to embarrass all the assholes here, and I think I ring it more than she does."

"I've been here before," You admit, tentatively grabbing her arm as she weaves through the crowd, "My husband and I came here once, a long time ago. I don't think the bartender was a woman, though."

"She just bought the place a few years ago," Natasha nods, sliding onto a stool at the bar, "Careful, don't put your phone on the bar."

You tuck the device safely away in your pocket as a brunette woman turns to you, a sweet smile on her face as she recognizes Natasha.

"Hey, Phe," She hums, and you don't have time to ask what the nickname means, "Brought a friend?"

"I'm Y/N," You introduce yourself, noting that they seem like close friends, "It's nice to meet you. I'm Penny."

You nod and beam at her when she offers you an identical bottle of beer to the one Natasha takes. You decline, though, ordering your usual instead. Jake's out with his friends tonight, but he's pledged to be a responsible drinker in case you need to be picked up from your girls' night.

"Can I get, uh," Natasha peers through the crowd, turning back when you assume she's found her target, "Five more?"

"Fanboy's got one already," Penny hums, taking four chilled bottles from beneath the counter, "You want help carrying them?"

"We're good!" You wrap one hand around two bottles, trusting Natasha to lead you towards her friends in the hectic crowd. You don't remember it being this busy when you'd come with Jake, maybe the new management really helped.

She treks you all the way over to a pool table along the wall, where a few men in jeans and t-shirts are huddled. You're taken by surprise, though you're not sure why. You'd automatically assumed her friends would be women, and you wonder if that's concerning. Possible internal bias aside, you smile at the men who stand to greet you.

"Hello," You wave, handing off beers to the two that meet you first,"I'm Y/N, you're Natasha's friends?"

"We are," A tall man grins, holding a hand out for you to shake now that it's not wrangling beers, "I'm Reuben. But you can call me Payback, if you want."

Natasha still has one of the beers in her hands, and you hear the man beside her, who she greets as Fanboy, mention something about the bathroom. Apparently you still have someone to meet.

You refocus on Reuben, "Payback," You tilt your head slightly to the side, "Is that a callsign? Are you a pilot?"

"We all are," The man who'd taken the other beer from you nods along with Payback, a burnt red mustache on his lip, "Natasha's is Phoenix. And I'm Rooster."

Your stomach drops.

"Wait, uh- Rooster? And- and Phoenix, and Payback," Your head spins slightly with recollections of Jake's crazy work stories, and you take a step back, "Are you- you're all stationed to this base?"

"Temporarily," Rooster frowns, "Hey, are you okay?"

"My husband-" You don't get the words out before he emerges from the bathroom, stopping dead in his tracks with a furrow in his brow that wrinkles his forehead.

"Darlin'?" He calls, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Jake?" You're equally incredulous, "I- these are the friends you're going out with?"

"Yeah, I-" He wanders closer, still at a general loss for words, "You know Phoenix?"

"Natasha gets breakfast at the bakery," You breathe, now that he's close enough to hear your dumbfounded murmur. You have an audience, but you don't care, not as Jake's confused expression melts into a sheepish smile.

"Well, small world. You look stunning tonight, honey."

"Thanks," You grin bashfully, keeping one hand on your drink and using the other to cup his cheek, tugging him down into a quick kiss. No matter how chaste it is, it gets a reaction.

"Oh," Fanboy gawps, "You're- her husband? You- Hangman, dude, you're married?"

"I am," Jake hums, ringing an arm around your waist and taking the beer from Natasha that she's too shock-stricken to hand to him. He pops the cap off on the edge of the pool table, bringing the fizzing mouth to his lips for a swig. He swallows, "Six years and counting."

"You're married to Hangman," Natasha- er, Phoenix repeats, "You married him?"

"Uh, I did," You laugh, twisting the ring on your finger.

"He never wears a ring," Rooster narrows his eyes at Jake accusatorily, "What, you're keeping her hidden away or something?"

"No," Jake scoffs, "It kept getting dirty when I was doing maintenance on my jet. I keep it on my dog tags, Bradshaw."

He brandishes the chain with both his ID and wedding band on it, and Rooster takes a swig of beer in response.

"How the hell was I supposed to know that, man? I don't stare at your chest in the locker room."

"Well you're missin' out," Jake drawls, turning to grin at you, "Ain't that right, honey?"

"Jake," You hiss, "Not here!'

"Oh, don't get all fussy. Most of these guys have seen my dick," He waves a dismissive hand in the air, nearly spilling his beer. You swear you hear someone mumble, 'unfortunately', but Jake drowns them out, "They don't care if we flirt. Hey, whaddya say we sharpen up those pool skills of yours?"

"Alright," You nod, letting him lead you over to the table, "Natasha, can you hold my drink?"

She takes it like it's her duty to protect you, even though your big strong husband has just bent you over the pool table. It takes you a few tries to be able to hit the ball at all with your clumsy grip on the cue, but when it finally cascades the colorful targets around the table, Jake whoops, landing a congratulatory smack to your ass that his friends groan at.

"Nice goin', darlin'. Gonna beat Bradshaw into the ground in no time."

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman fanfiction #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x y/n #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader

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turquoizxe · 7 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲

Ekko x Fem!Reader

content ― arcane s2 spoilers!!, drabble/hc; fluff, some angst, Ekko is absolutely smitten for the reader, friends to lovers, suggestive *in very few areas

author's note ― there's not enough drabbles/fics for Ekko and its pissing me awf. I must intervene.

wc ― 0.974k

Ekko wasn't sure if he'd find anyone else after Jinx

He had no choice but to live without her, even after experiencing what could have been had things been different.

It ate at him, constantly, knowing what their lives could have been, but he loved his home enough to save it

After the Vigil, Ekko kept to himself for quite sometime

He remained with his Firelights, continuing to redevelop his haven after everything that occurred

Remaining occupied meant he didn't have enough time to sit and think about all that had unraveled the past few months

On the days he was left in solitude, he sketched and tried to remember the best parts, or how to move ahead

He'd reunite with Vi every now and again, but she was busy handling her own business with Caitlyn. The environment had changed, and it was hard to tell if it was for the best or the worst

He would travel to Piltover more frequently, but it was harder due to the memories it held, and he didn't see much of a point in staying outside of grabbing supplies

You met Ekko while on a supply run, stealing the last stock of bolts he needed. He was having an awful day when you ran into him, so his demeanor was one he wasn't sure he had in him

Despite this, you still offered to share your bolts, if he wasn't being an ass, and if he showed you what he was working on for him to be so frustrated with a stranger

He was careful not to yet invite you to the home that he shares with the Firelights

You were understanding of his skepticism and invited him to your workshop instead, just outside of Piltover, but not necessarily in the area of Zaun

The device he showed you felt far more valuable than what you had been working on. Despite its rickety condition, he spoke of it so passionately, and you could tell this craft was something he was passionate about

You invited him back, and you gave him the hours you would usually be here if he was ever comfortable returning

After your first encounter, you weren't sure if he'd be back, but it shockingly didn't take long for him to return

What became maybe once a week, turned to twice, and then frequent visits

You'd both would often go on runs together, and when Ekko wasn't with the Firelights, he found himself spending more time in Piltover, but mainly if you were involved in that exploration

The first night after you met, he didn't get much sleep. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had made him feel that way; It felt so instant, without hesitation or question

He would have called you an idiot for being so trusting to a stranger, but he felt like a fool for the emotions he was already experiencing.

It was hard for him to process how the chemistry you exude when together was automatic.

As time went on, he let his guard down around you, when he was around you, it all felt natural. A year had gone by without either of you noticing

The night, when the anniversary of the Mass Vigil was held, he stayed longer than you both had expected, a lingering tension between the two of you.

Even without talking, the lack of conversation made him feel vulnerable― susceptible to questions he wasn't sure if he was ready to answer yet

The wounds were still so fresh, you had half the mind to not ask if he knew anyone that was lost in the war, but before you could ask, he went off into the night, leaving you to wallow in your own thoughts

Weeks had passed since you had seen him

These days, you don't hear much from Ekko. And even when you mourned his lack of presence, it hadn't taken much time before it started to anger you

Ekko had realized long ago that he had feelings for you. He often fought the urge to be defenseless around those he cared for most. He wasn't sure if that was possible with you until it was

He was so enamored with you and never missed a moment to brag to his colleagues about your brilliance

You reminded him so much of her, and you deserved to be your own person in his eyes. He feared that if this went any further, he'd try to create comparisons that weren't fair to either of you.

The more time you spent apart, he spent more time admiring the distinctions. The emotions you evoked from him felt foreign. He couldn't place a finger on it, but he wanted to explore it further

More weeks had passed before he showed up at your workshop, knocking at your door instead of climbing through the window like he used to. The change in behaviors made you pout a bit more than what was already plastered on your face

Ekko had revealed his creation, the device he had been working on for weeks. The bolts you had landed him were engraved with your initials

You sat him down, spending time to catch up. While you wanted to be mad, you weren't sure if the feelings you were experiencing were even mutual, until he made riddance of your doubts

He didn't make it back to the Firelights that night, spending the night wrapped and reveling in passion that had been festering itself. You had never been this intimate, the night filled with nervous laughs and mistakes, but it made him feel human again

The walls he had worked to build had swiftly crumbled whenever you came into the picture

There wasn't a thing he wouldn't do for you, and he'd fight just as hard to save you

No matter the universe

― turquoizxe

#ekko arcane #ekko #arcane s2 #fanfic #fiction #writeblr #Spotify #arcane headcanon #fanfic writing #fanfic blog #arcane ekko #ekko x reader #ekko x you

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bigwishes · 9 months ago

Text

Matching the Inside

"did I ask about side effects?" "no, but I still think you should hear me out"

Aden sat down to get on Nick's level.

"Listen here lil guy, you are the geeky smart guy, I'm the big guy, I asked you to whip me up something to make me the biggest guy and you said you could, now could you or are you fucking stupid and small?"

"Aden I understand but I still think you want to hear about th-"

"DONT CARE! JUST HAND IT OVER"

Nick sighed and handed over the small vial of green fluid over to Aden.

"Is this all?" Aden grunted.

Aden quickly downed the entire vial and flexed his muscles

"So when does this shit make me bigger?"

"s-soon Aden, just gotta wait a few ho-"

"WOULD YOU JUST FUCK OFF PIPSQUEAK!, if this shit fails I swear to god I'll be the fuck outta you then get my cash back"

Nick quickly left Aden to his own devices, he wasn't the best guy to get along with at the best of times and he didn't want to see how toxic Aden was going to become after an hour or so, but it was on him for not wanting to listen to the warnings...

-----

An hour of hard work had gone by and Aden had barely felt anything, sure he had a nasty pump and his skin felt like it was stretching by the second but nothing more than an unusually good day at the gym, however he did find one thing strange.

Aden was no stranger to sweat, but not normally this much, he was used to seeing his ass imprint when he stood up from the bench but not feeling it running down his body, not feeling it squelch in his shoes as he walked.

One of the gym attendants even asked him to please change his shoes as it was leaving huge sweaty imprints as he walked.

Aden sat down on a bench to catch his breath when he smelt something unbearable, it had to be a gym towel that had fallen behind a piece of equipment and left to reek for god knows how long. As Aden looked around for the source he couldn't find anything but when he lifted his arm he was hit by a wave of warm air that made him turn his nose up

the potent order was coming from him, and boy did he fucking reek.

Aden almost gagged on the stench of his own pits and stood up to grab his stuff to head home.

As he stood up his stomach let out a loud gurgling noise. It set in again, this time stronger and painful. Aden grabbed his stomach with both his hands and moaned and his gut continued to complain.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPP

Aden let out a loud belch that rung out through the entire gym.

"wow, eat too much before the gym big guy haha"

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP

Aden couldn't control it, before he could even respond he had let rip and belched in the guys face.

Multiple people started to call him a gross pig, and he was in too much discomfort to argue, he could barely get a word in before he burped or belched like a stupid brute.

On his way out he stopped at the mirror, his shoulders looked wider, his biceps fuller, his pecs were stretching out his tank like it was nothing, he couldn't help but admire himself, but the admiration quickly faded when his body automatically cocked open his jaw and forcefully rumbled out another masculine belch.

---

Aden had raced home, doing his best to deal with the horrible stench flowing from his body he imminently got in the shower, scrubbing himself for over and hour until there was no trace of BO left on him,

getting out of the shower he constantly sniffed his pits to make sure he smelt clean and fresh, the stench had seemed to vanish and the odd bloating all but gone, now it was time to see if the formula did anything or if he was going to crush Nick's spine with his own hands.

Aden slipped on his favourite pair of underwear and stood in front of his mirror, to his surprise he did actually look bigger, although barely, he had maybe gained a pound or two of muscle, but something looked wrong....

As Aden glanced down his incredible body he noticed his underwear was much flatter than usual, he tried to adjust himself but it felt like there was barely anything to adjust. As he pulled back the waist band he was horrified to see that his incredibly 10inch manhood and shrunken down into a pitiful 3 inches

"w-WHAT THE FUCK" Aden began to panic, his heart racing

Beads of sweat started to form on his forehead and run down his face. As Aden paced around his room he didnt notice all the sweat forming all over his body, that was until the smell set in, when he finally saw himself in the mirror again he was slick from head to toe, droplets of sweat running down him and he stuck, a stench like he had just spent a month working out non stop.

His gut began to grumble once more as the pain set it, this time more intense, like his stomach was being inflated from the inside. Aden moaned and gritted his teeth in pain.

"w..w...what is...happening..tOO MEEE AAGGGHHHUUUUUUU"

Aden watched as his abs turned red and began to expand outwards.

BUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPP

Aden couldn't help but belch, but it granted him no relief, he watched helplessly as his reflection expanded and grew, sweat dripping off him flooding his floor with a pool of musk and belches escaping him every time he opened his mouth to moan or complain.

-----

A week had gone by since Aden's strange and powerful growth but a lot had changed since then.

In a week he had been banned from almost every gym in town, banned from every restaurant, his car seats had changed colour from the sweat along with every piece of fabric or furniture he owned, on top of which most had broken in some way shape or form.

He couldn't even go to any out door cafe's as he was asked to leave because his terrible BO and constant belches upset the other customers.

Aden had all but ruined his life for muscle and size, still he couldnt help but feel mostly joy when he looked in the mirror, the way his shoulders and traps swallowed his neck, how he couldn't see past his pecs. How only after a week his powerful muscled feet would tear through his shoes. He loved being huge, but he didn't love the side effects.

The belching and stench he had gotten used to but the biggest shock to his system was the hardon he got for guys now, he used to be such a ladies man but now he felt nothing towards women and almost instantly came whenever he saw another bodybuilder flex, but even that he was willing to embrace so long as he could stay this big.

Aden stood in front of his mirror and watched as grey tank slowly turn black as it soaked up his sweat. He picked up a blender from the belch filled with his freshly made shake, he began to guzzle it down like he hadn't eaten in days, the shake spilled out from the sides of his lips, dripped through his beard and onto his tank were it quickly formed prominent stains and marks.

Aden dropped the blender panting for air.

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRPPPPPP

His eyes glazed over as he looked at the sweating monster in the mirror. He couldn't help but notice the freak he had become,

grown too big, stretch marks all over his body, sweat and protein staining his clothes, BO so bad he could see it, and one hand pressed on his abs trying to force out another belch.

He finally matched what was on the inside

A total fuckin slob

#male transformation #muscle #muscle transformation #male tf #tf story #transformation #gay transformation #musk #muscle morph

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gvshing · 5 days ago

Text

Long Distance!Ellie

masterlist

1.9k words

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

❥ Ellie met you on an online forum for discussing various science fiction and fantasy books. She had been scrolling late one night after finishing another behemoth of a novel, excited to see what other fans of the genre had to say about this one. Her beaten up laptop rests on her bed–stickers littering every inch of its surface. The laptop's fan spins wildly, emitting a soft hiss from its interior. She stares at the screen, eyes darting over to the book every few minutes. Her chest is bubbling with adrenaline from completing the novel she had been putting off. It was 1000+ pages of pure world building, the last 200 pages left her gripping the book so hard she lost feeling in her fingertips. The more she explores the various reviews, the more intense the bubbling in her chest boils. Raving reviews upon raving reviews has her on cloud 9. She knew she loved the book, but there's something weirdly satisfying when it’s not just her thinking so. There's been a few times (a lot of times) that she’s thoroughly enjoyed a novel just to read reviews diminishing it. She sits on the floor, the laptop perched just atop the bed creating a makeshift desk. As she mindlessly skims through the reviews, one catches her eye. The intricate wording so clearly delicately chosen has her heart swinging. The post completely conveys her opinions while adding things she never would’ve thought about. She rereads the post over and over again until it’s practically memorized. She types out a hastily put together comment and frantically closes her laptop, the rush of adrenaline wearing off while the anxiety of interacting sets in.

“This is beautifully worded. I agree completely with what you’re saying. I feel you understood the book more than the author haha.”

❥ Seeing that comment has you feeling something giddy. You didn’t feel that lives had been changed with your review, but you were overjoyed seeing someone sharing the same idea. In deciding how to respond to the comment, you opt for a private message hoping to be able to discuss the book more in depth with a like minded individual. Within the hour, conversation about the book slowly devolves into personal conversation with each other. It’s not long before you’re mutuals on every single social media there is.

❥ It starts with nervous voice calls. Ellie anxiously waits next to the phone, deep breaths through the nose and exiting through the mouth. Fingers tap against the phone, a rhythmic sound emanating around the room. Suddenly the sound of a loud ringing starts blaring from the device. Ellie drops the phone in surprise before shooting up and rapidly pawing at her phone in a hurry to answer it before it automatically hangs up. As she hits the green button, her voice falls from her throat causing words to not form. She stares at the glowing screen, unable to believe you were on the other side. “Hello?” A soft melodic voice sounds from the speaker and she feels her heart stop and restart. “Hi.’ She mutters out, no longer able to muster anything above a single worded whisper.

❥ The phone call eventually becomes easier and more comfortable as the minutes tick by. Laughter bounces off the walls of the usually quiet solitude of the rooms. Hours and hours pass by before either of you know it-only realizing when keeping eyes open becomes a chore. The phone calls continue almost daily, only skipping when absolutely necessary. Texting throughout the day about menial things and then laughing, crying and venting angrily hours into the night were the norm. These voice calls turn to facetimes after a while, feeling that hearing a voice just wasn’t enough anymore for either of you. The first facetime call is just as anxiety inducing as the first voice call. It’s not like either of you didn’t know what the other looked or sounded like. Something about talking face to face, even if it’s not in person, was much more personal though. It felt more real. Seeing the smile plastered across your face when Ellie answers the phone has her heart beating all throughout her body and her face flushing hot. Hearing your voice come directly from you, watching your lips move, your eyes crinkle, your hands pushing back your hair, all of it. It all has Ellie flustered. Face growing hotter and hotter, throat becoming drier and drier. She’s not sure how she survives these facetimes. But she does, every single time.

❥ You watch Ellie’s face brighten up with a red hot, freckles becoming more prominent under the crimson rush. She fiddles with rings on her long nimble fingers, biting on her bottom lip to keep her mind focused on the task of paying attention to you. Every single call with her has you flustered from seeing her small habits that somehow make her more attractive, even when she chews on her nails like she’s trying to rip them off the cuticle. Somehow every call gets easier to hide your flustered features even if the butterflies in your chest remain.

❥ Neither you nor her could remember when or how you made it ‘official’. One day you both realized you had been referring to the other as your girlfriend/partner and never stopped. Maybe it was a mutual decision, maybe one of you asked the other, neither of you are sure anymore. You choose your anniversary based on the day you both started talking.

❥ Ellie sends you silly fit checks. Poses you’re not sure how she got into or outfits that could only look good on her. She owns a thousand flannels and graphic tees. You’re not sure if she owns the same pair of jeans and cycles them out or if she only wears the one pair. Though you would never complain about the jeans, they fit her nicely. Hugging her hips just right and a tent of denim flare around her calves falling at her ankles to show the same beat up converse she always wears.

❥ Ellie could never get tired of the hundreds of Instagram posts or stupid tweets you send her every day. A picture of two dogs cuddling with the caption ‘us’-or some other variation-was the typical post you were sending her way. And she agreed every time.

❥ Ellie was a gamer. Obviously. But not really a hardcore one. She enjoyed Fortnite, Minecraft and Roblox. But she was bad at point and shoot games. As much as she enjoyed Fortnite, it was a hard game for her. She was more of a button masher than anything. Though she did indulge in one every now and again. It didn’t matter if you were a gamer or not, you were dragged into the world of gaming because of her. Weekend gaming sessions were in order every week. Your shared Minecraft world was insanely large. Houses for all of your friends, a cafe, an ice cream shop, at least 3 restaurants, a park, a garden and more. On a sleep deprived night Ellie got a little mad at some villagers and maybe perhaps made a prison for the ‘evil ones’ as she referred to them as. It made you a little sad but you can’t say you don’t understand her logic with it. Maybe the villagers shouldn’t have been stealing crops and releasing animals from the petting zoo.

❥ Ellie facetimes you at work when it’s dead. She 100% works in some museum or aquarium as an admissions person. Selling ticket after ticket. Just until she got through college and could start her true career. But, not everyday does a school come in for a field trip, so she’s often bored. You guys’ don’t even really say anything on work facetimes. It’s more just to look over and see the other’s face and keep each other company. She’s definitely gotten in trouble at least once for it but that does not stop her from doing it.

❥ One day you realize you’ve never seen Ellie eat a home cooked meal unless she’s visiting Joel, and she doesn’t tend to do that often. Usually she’s snacking on chips or eating her 4th ramen of the week. So to rectify that you agree to cook together on facetime at least once a week. Planning the same meals so it felt like you were eating together and showing her exactly what to do. You promise her that once you live together she’ll never have to cook again if she doesn’t want to. But until you were able to pamper her in that area, she was going to have to work with you.

❥ Ellie loves to send you ‘care packages’ in the mail. She’s given you upwards of ten hoodies or shirts drenched in her cologne, small stuffed animals she tends to find at the gas station on her daily energy drink runs, and handmade cards with a thousand stickers pasted all over and ‘I love you’ written on it in three different places. She makes you agree to not open them until you’re on call together so she can see your reaction and explain in deep detail why she chose what she did.

❥ Since your relationship started because of a book, you also jointly read the same books so you can discuss them. You take turns choosing and have a shared Goodreads account so you can add future books to the ‘want to read’ folder. Typically she makes you read science fiction or fantasy books. You don’t mind but you have made her read at least a few romance or horror books to break it up. She doesn’t mind the horror books but sometimes she feels her soul cringing at the things she reads in the romance selections.

❥ Falling asleep on call was eventually added to your daily calling ritual. Before, one of you would make the sacrifice and end the call so the other could sleep. After a while though it didn’t seem to make any sense to end the call just to call again the second one of you woke up. Nonetheless some mornings you’d wake up to a dead phone, forcing the call to end and alarms to not go off. Both of you ended up late to work a few times because of this, so alarm clocks quickly got added to one of the care packages.

❥ Ellie sends you pictures of ridiculous clothing with the caption “I show up to your house in only this, what’re you doing??” and it’s bright pink ass-less chaps.

❥ A collaborative Spotify playlist is a necessity. You both add songs when you think the other will like it or if it reminds you of one another. The playlist is at about 10 hours now.

❥ You do monthly movie nights. Once a month, at least, is spent watching a movie together. You decide on a movie and hit the play button at the same time. You’re sure there's an easier way to go about this, but for the time being it's fun to make her pause the movie every time you have to use the bathroom or grab more water. She usually has to ask where you paused it so she can rewind and meet you back at that part as she usually forgets how to work her hands in that moment and takes a good thirty seconds to actually pause it.

❥ While you both wished to be in each other's arms, waking up next to each other through more than just a screen, eating each meal together at the same table, you’re happy to still have each other and know that one day it won’t be like this anymore. You’re grateful for what you have right now.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

this took me to long to write and it's kinda ass. But, that's okay hehe. maybe part two? this is sfw and I kinda want to write a more nsfw side of it when I get the motivation. anyway.... hope you like hehe (okay part 2 coming soon)

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safination · 16 days ago

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Request. For Alastor here it might be a little ooc but oh well. maybe for whatever reason reader has to go somewhere for like a week and foams strange force called me and plot says alastor CANT come with. How would he be. Would he we silently suffering cuz boy doesn’t have a cellular device or would he be okay.

THANK U

Alastor taps on the armrest with the tips of his fingers. Isn’t seven years already enough? Now you have to go out to another city while he’s stuck here in the hotel. It was only a week anyway, and it’s not like Alastor would leave his job just to join you.

He wouldn’t.

. . . He would.

He would not be doing such a thing.

Alastor would survive seven days without you, it would be like you never left at all.

The first day wasn’t any trouble. There was only this little mishap at the kitchen where he made two cups of coffee instead of one. The steam from your cup rises until it goes cold. So, Alastor is alone in this kitchen, before the others are fully awake, with a coffee mug that’s getting cold. The coffee gets thrown out and washed. Alastor is going to be fine without you.

The third day was the same as the first – absolutely not trouble! Of course . . . there was this tiny, tiny accident where he called out your name. Alastor was looking for one of his bowties and called out to ask if you knew where it was. It was automatic – a habit. He just calls out your name. It confuses him when you don’t answer. Alastor walks around the bedroom, wondering why you weren’t answering when it hits him. So, all in all, a great third day

The seventh day . . . is when Alastor finally thinks that maybe, he isn’t doing fine. Everyone is avoiding him. The moment they spot him, they turn the other way and leave or head to the nearest door to hide. Now, this isn’t an unusual conundrum. It’s quite welcomed, actually. It only gets a bit annoying when he couldn’t complete a full sentence before someone runs off. There hasn’t been anything new at all! Nothing that could impact his mood, at all.

As things do, the week eventually ends, and the door to his bedroom opens. You’re smiling at him, showing off that little knickknack you bought for him. Alastor takes the present, putting it away before fully examining it, and just . . . slowly . . . melts. . . in your arms.

#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x wife!reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x you #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor

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secret-subject · 9 days ago

Text

Equipment for audios?

Oh yea here we are at the nerdy side of hypnokink, I'm a total mic nerd and I am always getting asked, what equipment do I use for recording?

For different things (spoken word, music, asmr etc etc) you need different set ups but generally...

I have a zoom f3 which I plug into it either a matched pair of clippy ems mics for asmr or my rode nt1 5th gen for basic hypnosis audios. This is a portable recorder with 32 bit float and automatically sets the gain for you so no clipping! The reason I much prefer a portable recorder is two things. One versatility, they can be used stand alone or plugged into a pc for a handy interface so you have options. Two, if you (like me) dabble in asmr content you need the LEAST amount of background noise possible and most computers are loud. Yes, even the quiet ones trust me I've spent five years trying to have a quiet pc, going portable so I can turn off my pc and use my phone (or my brain) for the words to record is a lot easier and wayyyy less noise.

Now the zoom f3 is a little pricey and not very beginner friendly (it is what they call in the biz prosummer level gear) so here are some other portable recorders I have tried that I like for people on a budget/more beginner friendly:

-zoom h3: this is a binaural/ambisonic portable microphone and it not only as my seal of approval but some of my asmr girlies as well use this mic in their content, so you know it's good.

-tascam dr-05x: this little portable recorder is so good I regularly use it in recordings, the only downside is you NEED a windshield on it because it is that sensitive of a mic. It also has a little bit of a high level of self noise but with some cleaning this is an easy fix.

-zoom h4n pro: this is a little wild card but it was my first portable recorder. While the tascam absolutely blew this one out of the water for me personally, I do like that this recorder also has two xlr ports on bottom as well as binaural mics so it gives you a lot of options in one device. The only downside is I just didn't find the sound quality of the onboard mics to be that special with my voice and sometimes the self noise was a little much.

Now let's chat microphones!

Are they even that important? Yes. There are so many times I settle down to listen to some audio hypnosis of an evening and the second I hear the quality of the audio I am put off and a lot of the time, it's your mic or mic settings. Now yes, I am a snob about these things but here are so tips for getting a mic that works for you.

Firstly, usb or xlr mic?

Usb: these mics are designed to be plug and play. They connect right into your pc and you don't need any extra gear to run them. The downside? Usually this ease of use comes with the cost of quality, both in mic build and quality of recording. You need a pc to run them which means, noise. Also, sometimes it's hard to monitor the audio on these mics (monitoring meaning having headphones to hear what you sound like in the mic, EXTREMELY important to listen for clipping, unwanted sounds etc.)

Xlr: these mics are your standard mics, they are plugged into an audio interface or mixing board via an xlr cable. They usually give you a lot more range and choice of mic and are easy to find high quality ones at even low price points. Downside? The start up cost is higher because you NEED that interface to plug it into but because of that you can also get this mic as far away from noisy things like your pc as possible because of how it's set up with the cables. You also have a lot to do a lot of set up and cable management so if space or portability is important you should probably get a USB or portable recorder instead.

Which one do I recommend?

I have both in the same mic. My go to beginner mic is the rode nt1 5th gen. This mic not only comes with everything you need in box (pop filter, shock mount, xlr and USB cables) but it is BOTH xlr and USB. So I would personally if I could only have one mic, get this and use it USB style until I could upgrade to an interface. Now if you have a lot of background noise this isn't the mic for you. But, check out the rode podmic xlr/USB instead. It is a dynamic mic so terrible for picking up quiet sounds but it will give you a TON of great back ground noise rejection plus a great sound quality.

If you are not ready for a stand alone mic, do not panic here's how you record stunning audios without a proper mic. Use your phone. I am deadly serious your phone has one of the BEST mics on it. Most smartphones have decent sound built in. All you have to do is make sure you position it correctly as far or close to your mouth as sounds good for your phone. Do a few test recordings on your voice recording app to see what works then, put the phone in a sock so you just cover the mic. This is your free pop filter/windshield. It will catch some of those plosives (words with a p, b, or d, sound will make a popping noise that cannot be edited out so the sock will help soften that a little plus remove the crackle of air from your breathing into the mic).

Whatever you do, do not use a headset mic. Most of them are trash. Yes that includes gamer ones, yes that also includes office ones too. Even the expensive ones. If you are spending money to get a mic, get a proper mic. Please also, do not use laptop mics. They are usually also pretty awful, your better off trying the phone.

Finally some quick advice for people wanting to get into this. I've had people literally tell me, "Secret, I don't care what you think about mics and your trial and error, I'm just going to buy the most expensive mic I can find because it has to be the best!" Expensive does not mean good for you. I have mics in my locker that cost hundreds, I have a couple special purchases that set me back thousands and every single time I find myself recording on my very cheap gear because it sounds better. My 3dio pro is collecting dust because that 5k (I live in nz and it cost a TON in shipping) mic doesn't sound half as good as the 100 nzd clippies I got on a whim and am OBSESSED with. Your voice is unique to you. It has frequencies and nuances that will not sound amazing on every mic. The mic that fits your voice and makes it shine might not be that 10k Neumann U87 (although I wish I could try it out one day...) it might be on the much cheaper one you have had for literal years in the back of your closet!

The best comment I ever got was from a friend. I was testing out my beloved rode nt1 and they said to me, "Secret, I don't know what you did with this mic but it makes your voice sound the most powerful it has in years." And that was my goal. This audio I sent them was raw. I did not even have to edit. So please for the love of hypnosis, stick to your budget and do your research. Some places around the world do mic testing and if you can find one, I would suggest it. If you have a friend who has a mic you are thinking of buying, ask to try it. If you find a youtube review of a mic, try and find one with someone with a similar range to your voice to see what it could sound like for you before you purchase and get to know what is important in a mic for you, your voice and your recording situation. The room is just as important as the gear.

Now, can you fix a bad mic in post? Absolutely, there are a ton of things you can do to a recording to make it sound polished in editing but personally, I like a raw, uncut sound to my recordings. It feels a lot more personal and I like that. Plus I am bad at mixing and I hate the sound of my own voice so do not panic if your mic isn't quite what you wanted, you can play around with the eq, compression etc until you get a sound you want (but still please don't blow 10k on a mic first time. It's not worth it.)

Final finally: the person I learned all my mic knowledge from is called Podcastage on YouTube please go check him out. He has incredible resources for finding your perfect mic and reviews on pretty much every mic you can think of. Remember, be resourceful, stick to your budget and think about what you want in a mic before you click buy and happy hunting!

I can't wait to hear what you'll record. 💜

#secret subject #hypnok1nk #hypnosis #audio gear for nerds #yes i said no more headset mics plz #i hope this helps up and coming audio makers because seriously i wish i knew this back in 2017 when i got my blue yeti #dont get a yeti please there are so many better mics out there to start with #hypnotize smarter not harder or something like that i dunno its like 1am when i wrote this

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kaneaken · 9 months ago

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You've lost count of how many people you've apologized to. Although most of them were polite, it didn't make you feel any less guilty. You weren't even the one holding them up!

Boothill has always been quite the gentleman despite his, at times, colorful language. He carried you when you were tired, rushed to open doors for you, and held your bags whenever you needed to go to the bathroom.

Now, what is such a 'perfect gentleman' supposed to do when a device decides to do his job for him? Obviously, beat up the competition and take his job back.

"Boothill, are you done yet?" You whisper to the crouched cyborg. He waves you off as he finishes tinkering with the automatic doors.

He clears his throat, getting up and practically strutting over to the closed doors. With a simple pull, Boothill opens one of the doors.

"Darlin'," He calls, motioning for you to walk through. You quickly scamper over, walking through the door. He follows suit, closing the door behind him.

"Boothill, you can't just break the door and close it on everyone else!" You exclaim as he wraps his arm around your torso.

"The staff'll help 'em! Don' worry so much, darlin'!" He answers, pinching your cheek with a toothy smile.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #boothill x reader

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amywritesthings · 1 year ago

Text

press four for more options. | part two.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.5k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut, alternate universe (modern), sex work, phone sex, dirty talk, dom!levi, light dom/sub, guided masturbation, pet names, nipple play, overstimulation, multiple orgasms Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part one. / part three. | masterlist

2-5-1-2.

It’s an easy enough combination to remember, being Christmas Day and all.

Pressing 2, 5, and 1 is easy. The final '2' makes you second guess yourself.

You’re not sure why you’re panicking. He’ll pick up.

(It’s literally his job, idiot.)

Fuck it.

Your index finger hits the '2' and the hashtag to finalize the combination.

When you hear the line go dead, you tense every muscle in your body.

No breathing.

No blinking.

Just waiting for that silky, sultry siren song to come over and confirm your bias that it’s the single sexiest voice you’ve ever heard.

—but it’s that automated lady you tried to bypass from the menu.

“Please enter your credit card number, followed by the expiration date—”

“Oh, Goddamn it,” you groan, shouldering the phone to shuffle your purse around.

Eventually after some digging, you find your card before she can continue a second loop of her payment spiel.

You can’t believe you’re legitimately putting your credit card information out there for anyone to steal.

Yet, if Annie’s been doing this for ages, then it ought to be safe.

Right?

After typing in the necessary numbers and confirming they’re correct, you’re so out of your own head that you don’t even realize the line switches from slight static to smooth nothingness.

“So you finally called back.”

“Shit!”

The buttery smooth greeting — or lack thereof — makes you nearly drop your phone.

You gasp and manage to catch the device just in time to hear a chuckle, graveled and low, on the other end.

“And just as jittery as last night.”

“Levi,” you greet breathlessly, straightening your outfit like he can actually see it.

You swear you hear a smile in his voice.

“Hey, baby.”

Oh sweet Jesus.

“Or do you prefer it when I call you Scarlet?”

You prefer literally anything he’ll give you, is what you want to say back, but you don’t want to automatically appear as though you’re ready to be walked like a dog at minute one.

“I’m… fine with ‘baby’,” you confess after a beat, focusing on the swirl of the marble counter below you just to dissociate to his voice.

“Thought so,” he arrogantly states before making this grunting noise, like he’s rolling his body in a chair to get more comfortable. “Are we talking again?"

"Is that alright?"

"You know it is." Levi's voice lifts, softer now. "And how's your Saturday so far?”

“Very mundane and super lackluster,” you admit. “I’m sure you’ve had a much more interesting day than me.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he replies without skipping a beat.

“No?” you ask with a smirk. “I’d say getting people off with the sound of your voice makes for a pretty interesting job.”

“Who said it’s only just my voice?”

Son of a bitch.

The phone shifts from your right shoulder to your left.

“It isn’t?”

He makes a noncommittal hum, and it runs straight to your core. “That's confidential, sweet Scarlet."

"Boo," you joke. "You're no fun."

"You haven't seen me at my fun yet," he corrects. "Speaking of fun: how are you not hungover?"

“The power of heavy tylenol and H2O? Which... I have to apologize that."

"For what?"

"Uh, I pretty much poured my heart and soul out to you last night.”

He chuckles. "I didn't mind it. Feeling any better about that situation?”

“I haven’t really thought about it since last night, so you’re already a miracle worker.”

"Oh?"

"Yeah, no joke."

“Huh." He clicks his tongue. "And what have you been thinking about?”

You say it without realizing you’ve said it out loud:

“You.”

Both ends of the phone go silent.

Your eyes widen, wanting nothing more than to take a pan out of one of the cabinets to bash your head in with anguish.

“In, like, an interested sense.”

Shit, that isn’t much better.

“An… interested sense,” he repeats, slower this time. His vowels dip deep.

“Oh no,” you bemoan. “Okay. Let me restart: I mean it in like a — you were on my mind? Today, sort of way. So I called.”

“...uh-huh.”

“Because the call ended so quickly!” you add. “I didn’t think it was going to end so abruptly at the fifteen minute mark, but I wasn’t done talking to you, so I called again.”

“You’re shit at asserting yourself, aren’t you?”

His words make you blink twice.

“Huh?”

“You don’t like making decisions or having to explain things,” he replies without judgment. “You think if you want something, then it makes you selfish.”

Ouch.

“Well, when you put it like that,” you reply in a bitter, yet lifted tone of surprise.

You hear a noise on the other end. A ‘tch’ if you can make it out.

“Sorry," he apologizes. "Too far?’

“No! Too real,” you admit with a small laugh. “And I’m sure you don’t want to play analyst-therapist tonight, so.”

“I’m here to do anything you want,” he reminds, syrup-y sweet.

“Anything?”

“Mostly anything,” he adds, and there’s a tiny chuckle bubbling between the words that makes your heart flutter. “Can’t hold a tune worth a damn and I don’t know how to speak some languages, so there are limitations.”

You laugh despite yourself, feeling your stress melt.

Then—

A small groan, like his head's tilting backwards. “Damn, I like hearing that.”

You turn away from your kitchen counter, subconsciously padding to your bedroom. “Hearing what?”

“Your laugh,” he explains. “It’s sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“Very.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully.

Dark hair. Gray-ish blue eyes. Sharp nose. High cheekbones.

Fit.

When your eyes flicker to your own bed, you try to picture a version of him waiting there.

He could be leaning back on his elbow, button-down shirt splayed open like a newly-peeled present.

Maybe his legs are parted.

Maybe he stares at you like you’re all he could ever want.

His voice cuts through the fantasy, causing your breath to catch.

“What do you want, baby?”

Then it drops an octave lower.

“...c’mon, be selfish for once.”

For once.

Like he can read your soul through a damn cell phone.

But Levi is right — your entire short-lived relationship with Porco and just about any other man before him has been through a small lens. Fitting in the middle seat just to never make any noise. To bend with the curve rather than against it to create your own path.

It’s just a sex hotline, but for some reason, his words resonate.

Be selfish.

Wasn’t that the point of calling in the first place?

“Anything?” you repeat a second time, much softer.

Levi shuffles on the other line then exhales like he’s getting comfortable.

“What do you need?” he asks, tone low and words slower.

Purposeful.

“What do you want?”

You close your eyes, drawing in a slow, steady inhale.

Are you seriously doing this?

No more overthinking.

“Should I... get comfortable?” you ask, too afraid to say what it is that you want.

What you’re about to do.

“Mm, you near a couch or a bed?”

“A bed.”

“Don’t get on it yet,” he orders, “but walk towards it. Bend over it.”

Jesus Christ.

“Bend over it?” you ask with a shaky breath of disbelief.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “You’re home from a long day. I’m home from a long day. All you’ve wanted all day is to have someone tell you what to do, right?”

As much as your face feels like it's on fire, you slowly walk to your bed and put the phone down between your splayed palms.

You press the speaker option to ‘on’, and feel a wave of arousal hit your gut when you hear him sigh through the phone.

“I thought you said you wanted me to be selfish,” you remind, bending over your bed.

“You’re allowing me to take charge,” he retorts with little hesitation. “You’re letting me take care of you the way you always should’ve been taken care of. Your ex-boyfriend has no fucking clue what he’s missed out on.”

You exhale, trying to keep it together.

“Levi—”

“I’m right here, baby,” he huskily promises. “Right here. Not leaving you.”

You feel ridiculous.

You’re so turned on it’s almost laughable.

“You ready to let me take control?” he eventually asks, and you nod like he can see you.

“Yeah, I’m— I think so.”

“I like using a red-yellow-green light system,” Levi hums. “Red’s a hard stop. Yellow is negotiating, a slow down to check in. Green means you’re in.” He pauses, and you lean down closer to your phone, bending further. “Color?”

Even on speaker, his voice rips straight through you.

“Green,” you decide, blurting before your brain can catch up.

“Good girl.”

You’re not going to survive this.

“Are your lights off?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he decides. “I want you to crawl slowly onto the bed now. Can you do that for me?”

Your hand slides obediently, passing over the phone as you begin to rest one knee on the mattress. It dips with give.

“All the way up to your pillows, then you can lay on your back — but keep your eyes closed.”

“Okay.”

Eventually you drag your phone with you as you crawl to the headboard of your bed, only to then slowly turn around and drop to your back.

“Are your eyes closed?”

With the phone speaker right at your ear, it almost lends itself to the fantasy of him hovering above you.

His lips dip at the edge of your ear, the static lost to you.

“Yes,” you exhale, relaxing into the bed.

“Good. You’re doing so good for me already, and we’ve barely started.” He pauses, shifting once more. “What’re you wearing, baby?”

“Something so not sexy,” you joke, and it earns a breathy laugh from him.

“Bet you can make anything sexy,” he tells you, and it shoots straight to your lower belly.

“How would you know?” you ask, your hand already reaches for the hem of your shirt. “You’ve never even seen me.”

“No, but I hear you, and it’s fucking delicious.”

Your breath hitches, and you can hear it; the smile in his voice.

“Take everything off, except your underwear.”

“Bra, too?”

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he tells you, and it’s much less breathy. It’s certain, like he wants to check in — make sure you’re just as into it as he sounds. “Would you rather I help you take that off?”

Your brain blanks.

Slowly you push your jeans off first, kicking them to some unknown corner.

Then you rise, ripping your t-shirt off of your body, until you’re sitting in your mismatched bra and panties.

“How would you take it off of me?” you boldly ask, though you can’t quite get rid of the shake of anticipation in your voice.

“Fuck, I’d love to,” he grunts, and your face burns. “I’d be so busy pressing small, slow kisses to your neck. Reach up and touch your neck for me. Feel how I’d kiss it.”

You do.

As surprised as anyone else, you reach up and press your fingers against small parts of your neck, earning him a tiny gasp and noise of want.

“Dragging down to your throat.”

You press two gentle fingers to your skin again, following his path, before slamming your thighs together to try and relieve the heat between your legs.

“My finger would just… slip, right under the right strap of your bra.”

Your fingers dance across your collarbone, slipping your middle finger just under the delicate strap to mirror.

With your eyes closed, the motions lend to an almost out-of-body experience.

Like your hand trailing down your body isn’t yours; it’s his.

You’re his, right now.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, and you nods furiously.

“Very.”

“Good. Let me pull the other one down. I wanna see how pretty my girl is.”

The praises, the way he so easily speaks this way, has you all sorts of flustered.

Slowly you raise your other hand to pull down the strap, and whimper when you tug down as far as you can.

Your breasts spill out over the cup, allowing your hardened nipples to greet the night air.

“Can I touch you?”

The words almost make you open your eyes, as if you’ll see this mystery man hovering over you.

You know he's not here.

You wish he were right here.

“Yes.”

“How do you like to be touched, baby? Show me.”

“Levi,” you whine, allowing your shaky hands to run along your breasts.

You’re afraid, you’re exhilarated, but when you finally pinch the little buds and roll them between your fingers, you’re too far gone to care.

“Fuck—”

“Feels good, huh?” Levi’s own breathy voice interrupts your curse. “You look so beautiful like this. Letting me play with you— God, I could do this for hours—”

“Want you to.”

You don’t even recognize your own breathy tone.

Hell, you only hear him.

You only feel him.

“Need more,” you pant, and he hums with amusement.

“No,” he replies, “think I’m gonna play with you a little more right here for now.”

You accidentally pinch your nipples, harder, like he’s teaching you a lesson.

“Levi.”

“What, is my girl getting impatient?”

His girl.

You don’t even know him, but you’d sure as hell like to be.

(How easy is it, for you to fall so fast from your judgmental high horse when Annie first slipped you this number — only for you to be moaning on your bed, hands groping and kneading your breasts, for a man you didn’t know?)

“Y-You said,” you stammer, “to be selfish, and I want—”

“Shh, I’m gonna take good care of you, okay?” Levi interrupts on the other end. “But you have to do something for me, too.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t want you holding back on me. No shyness. No second guesses. I want you, I want to hear what I do to you. Is that understood?”

You can’t take it.

Your one hand leaves your chest to skim down to your belly, unable to wait any longer.

“I want you to touch me,” you hiccup.

“Yeah?”

His voice wavers in the response before it strengthens. Demands.

“I want those panties gone first. Take them off and spread your knees. Feet flat on the bed.”

No need to be told twice; you hastily pull your panties down your hips, your knees, until they pool at one of your ankles.

Your knees knock together before spreading, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I want to touch you, too, baby.” Levi swallows, coating his throat. “How wet are you for me?”

Fingertips run past your lower belly to touch the apex of your thighs, gasping with surprise and relief when you feel that familiar electricity.

“Really fucking wet,” you admit.

The groan he emits is delicious. “Fuck.”

For a moment, you feel completely out of your depth.

This is meant to be a sex hotline, but there are lines blurred in your mind. Something about the sheer image of him leaning back into his chair, fucking a fistful of his cock while he has a phone operator headset against his ear, only turns you on that much more.

“If we had time, I’d spend all night memorizing what you taste like. What you feel like. How you let go — for me, only for me.”

“Only for you,” you promise, unable to stop yourself from drawing circles over your clit.

You moan, head bent back against your pillow.

“Fuck, you’re touching yourself, aren’t you?” he asks, and his voice seems less controlled now. It’s got a hint of raggedness, and it only quickens your pace. “You feel amazing, you know that? Such a pretty pussy, all spread and wet for me—”

“Shit, Jesus, Levi,” you gasp, knowing that you’re not going to last long. You’re too wound up from the night before. “If you keep talking like that—”

“What, are you gonna come for me?” Amusement tickles the question. “Oh, you can come for me, baby, but I’m gonna need at least two from you tonight.”

Your fingers press a little harder to your clit, and you keen.

“Wh– At least?”

“As if I’d ever be satisfied with only one,” he murmurs. “No, I wanna watch you come apart. Feel it on my fingers with those cute little contrac—”

That’s it.

You moan louder than you expected, the taut bowstring suddenly snapped in half.

You arch off the bed, relentlessly rubbing your fingers against your body to ride out the insane orgasm that you — that Levi has given you.

Even if you’re blissed out, you hear it on the receiving end:

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Fuck, you sound amazing. I know it’s gonna be tough, but keep going for me, okay? Don’t stop.”

“It’s sen– ha, sensitive!” you whimper, wanting to stop your hand.

“Mm-mm, you said you’d be good. Be selfish, baby. Give me two.”

“But Levi!”

Everything is on overdrive.

Your hand; your body; your mind.

You imagine he’s hovering over you, working you with his hand with a near-sadistic relentlessness.

As you battle your own refractory period, your toes curl, teeth clenched.

You want to be good.

You want to be so good.

And somewhere in that overwhelming intensity, you feel it: the ebb and flow of pleasure returning, crawling through your veins and forcing you to not give up.

To give this to him.

Then you hear it: panting.

As if he’s getting off to this himself. Your eyes snap open, wide, to an empty room.

When your cheek turns to the phone, you confirm that’s what you hear:

Ragged breaths, albeit softly, with added grunts of control.

Like he’s holding back.

Something about that image of him in a chair, his hand relentlessly pumping his cock in time with your hand, your whimpers and moans, does damage.

“I need— mm— want— please.”

“I’m right here, baby,” Levi promises, though his voice is weaker. You can even hear him swallow again. “Right fucking here, wanna hear you cum so bad.”

Maybe you really were pent up enough for two, because soon you’re slipping — falling — into that blissful nothingness while your body clenches on itself, clit fluttering from a second release.

It’s less intense, but that doesn’t make it any less good.

Everything throbs in your body as you come down, panting, with a slight sheen of sweat on your skin.

You turn to your phone, totally gone in the bliss of the aftermath.

Levi has grown silent as well; only light puffs of air come through the speaker now.

“Feeling better?” Levi asks with a hint of pride in his voice.

“Shut up,” you answer with a gentle laugh of your own. “I’m… shit. I guess that’s why they pay you the big bucks.”

That statement gets Levi to laugh, and your heart feels twice as full.

“That’s one way of pillow talk, I guess.”

The man pauses.

“Are you alright?”

As if he’s truly concerned, worried about your wellbeing.

You don’t allow yourself to fall for it, not completely.

This is his job — even if it felt so real, in the moment.

“Much better,” you promise, smiling to yourself.

“Happy to help,” he hums, his voice returning to that stormy swirl of seduction and softness.

The sobering reality of an empty bedroom should deter you, but all you can do is smile.

(When is the last time you genuinely felt giddy? Excited? Satisfied?)

“Hey, Levi,” you murmur eventually, slowly sitting up to unhook your bra and toss it away. No need to keep it on.

“Yeah, baby?”

You’ll never get over the way he sounds when he calls you that.

It’s permanently stuck to your frontal lobe, obscuring any other logic or reality.

“Am I still allowed to call?”

“Allowed?”

“Yeah, even though we…”

“What, you think you get one experience and your membership is up?”

Levi chuckles, shifting in his seat — or bed — or wherever he is.

“You can call me anytime you want.”

“Any?”

“Between company hours, yeah.”

“Even to talk?”

“Of course,” he answers, softer this time. “Always to talk. Go get some rest.”

“Mm,” you mumble, turning on your side as exhaustion takes over. “I will, but only because I want to and I’m being selfish.”

It surprises you to hear him laugh again, but it’s louder now.

More prominent.

As if he genuinely enjoyed your joke.

Get your head out of the clouds, girl, is what you want to say to yourself, but you can’t be bothered to care.

“Good. You earned it.”

A noise emits from your tired throat to acknowledge him, too sleepy to formulate a real sentence.

Then his voice drops to a whisper, for your ears and your ears alone.

“Goodnight, baby.”

You press the ‘end call’ button and fall into the deepest sleep you’ve had all year.

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading part two of P4! This is insane. I still cannot believe the feedback I got in part one. Seriously, you all made my June. I hope this next part has satisfied your curiosity of how Levi would be a hotline operator.

Thank you for likes, and even more love to those who choose to reblog this to help spread the word of this series or reply in the comments. ilu xo

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #attack on titan fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk fanfic #aot fanfic #aot fic #snk fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #fic: press four for more

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becauseicantthinkwritings · 3 months ago

Text

Till Death Do Us Part (I)

Part 13 of my Accidentally on Purpose Series!

Warnings: Angst, anxiety, family issues, smut, oral (f), bruises and pain.

Billy wakes before you, with a feeling in his chest that something is terribly wrong.

He sits up, the sheets pooling at his hips, remnants of his bad dreams chasing him into awareness.

His body aches as he turns to find you, his eyes tracing the lumpy silhouette of your body under the sheets, finding you in the dim light.

You're breathing, he lets out a sigh of relief, reaching out to smooth a hand through your hair, listening to your little hum of appreciation, responding to his touch, even when you're still asleep.

His chest squeezes. It's a good feeling, a reminder that you're here and you're with him. He lets out a slow breath, falling softly into the space beside you, reaching out to link your fingers with his.

It's love, that warm feeling in his chest. He smiles to himself, feels the emotion bubble inside of him. He thinks that he would trade everything he has in this world to lie beside you like this forever.

He feels the darkness fill his head when he remembers what losing you felt like. When Billy had found out you'd been taken last night- he'd become something so sinister.

The memory intrudes itself into his head, the reminder of what he'd done to the man that had hit you. It hadn't been enough, and yet maybe it had been too much.

A little snore catches his attention, distracting him from his dark thoughts. He grins as he hears you murmur something unintelligible in your sleep.

When you stir, he closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep, feels the bed shift as you crawl closer to him, sighing happily as you tuck your head into his chest. He wraps his arms around you, and doesn't remember falling asleep.

He's a little disoriented, when the sound of his phone vibrating wakes him.

He peeks one eye open, raising his head, carefully reaching over your sleeping form, curled against him to pick up the noisy device, seeing that it's the front desk calling.

“Russo.” He says, his voice sounding raspier than he wants it to be, the woman's reply on the other side is shaky.

“Good morning Mister Russo, my apologies for the call, there are two women here demanding to see Mrs. Russo. They say they're her family.”

He's fully awake in an instant.

He turns to look at you, wants to wake you in his panic, but hesitates when he sees how peaceful you look.

“Send them up.” Billy answers, ending the call, and carefully extracting himself from your body.

He's not a man that usually panics, but he does take a few moments to do so while he grabs a shirt from his closet. This was your family, that probably hated him, and Billy wasn't someone particularly good with families.

He stops, turns to look at you while you sleep, sucks in a deep breath to remind himself that this is worth it, for you. He's not going to hide or avoid this situation no matter how uncomfortable or tense it gets.

He barely has time to do a quick brush of his teeth, before there's a knock at the door.

He straightens his shoulders, allows his confident disposition to settle into place before approaching the door.

He opens the door, wonders if he should attempt a polite smile, but doesn't really feel like it.

There's a tension in the air, between the two women in front of him, he can see little resemblances between the three of you that make you blood.

“Morning,” he greets amicably, opening the door wider, a silent invitation.

The younger of the pair, who Billy automatically assumes is your sister, steps forward.

“Hey, Billy right?” She says with an apologetic smile, “I'm Emma.”

He inclines his head.

“Nice to meet you both, please, come in.”

They accept his invitation easily, closing the door as they step in.

“She's still asleep right now,” he says to their unasked question, “Would you like some tea, or coffee?”

Emma studies him for a moment.

“We want to see her.”

He blinks, nods in understanding.

“I would prefer not to wake her. She's been through so much.”

It's the wrong thing to say.

“Do you have any idea what I've been through in the last eight hours?!” Your mother outbursts.

“For starters, she gets married to a random stranger and I never meet him. You could literally be brainwashing her without anyone even batting an eye!”

Billy swallows, watching your mother come towards him with a finger raised. He glances at Emma for help and all she offers is a smile of apology, a silent signal to let the anger run its course.

“-we barely see each other, she barely talks to me and then I hear she gets kidnapped!-”

“-You're going viral by the way.” Emma supplies unhelpfully.

“-my own daughter and all I hear is that she's been rescued, with no idea of the state she's in- and now you refuse to let me see her?”

He sucks in a deep breath.

“I'm not refusing, I just want her to get some rest.”

Finally, Emma decides to take pity on him.

“Mom, it's okay, we can wait a little. He's not saying no.”

It makes your mother clench her jaw shut, her mouth in a thin line as she studies Billy, who feels very much like an ant under a magnifying glass in the sun.

He can feel the anger in her eyes, directed at him, and he knows a bone chilling comment is going to leave her mouth next.

Before she can get the words out, he hears a small voice.

“Mom?”

Both women in front of him turn to look at you, and Billy closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, feels despair pool in his chest at the fact that the noise must have woken you.

His fists curl as both women rush to embrace you, and he watches as you smile, reassuring them that you were okay.

As fast as his anger comes, it vanishes when you step toward him next.

He's a little unsure about how to act with all the extra eyes on him, studying your face, the sleepy glaze still in your eyes, dressed in his t-shirt with your hair askew, a soft greenish bruise on the highest point of your cheek.

“Good morning, husband.” You whisper, hands wrapping around his arm, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.

His stomach flutters.

He can't resist, hand slipping behind your neck, tilting your head to allow his lips to meet yours in a quick moment, feels sparks where you touch him.

If you were alone, he would scoop you up and take you back to bed, stroke your hair softly till you fell asleep in his arms with the feeling of his heart pounding just a little too hard in his chest.

Where you'd been giving reassurance before, you were seeking it right now in his arms.

“How are you feeling?” Billy asks after he breaks the kiss.

Your eyes are so glassy, tired, he wishes you'd gotten more sleep, but he knows there's no way you'd agree to that now.

“Hurts.” You whisper.

“I can call a doctor.” He offers.

He watches you look down in thought, before nodding, glancing up at him.

You turn back to your mom and sister, smiling.

“I'm glad to see you guys, but what are you doing here?”

Emma answers you.

“We've been calling for hours, since we heard what happened.”

You glance at Billy, wanting to ask him if he'd seen your phone, but you decide not to.

“Uhh, yeah sorry, I must have lost it at some point, sorry, I didn’t realise how big all of this was.”

Honestly, you hadn’t even thought about how this might have affected the people around you, you'd been so absorbed in yourself.

“It's understandable,” Billy murmurs beside you, his dark eyes are earnest, “You've been through a lot.”

You nod, looking back at your mom, catching her observing Billy with a suspicious eye, suddenly reminding you that she knows more than she's supposed to and you have divorce papers hidden in this apartment because of that.

“I’m all right, just a little tossed around… like a… salad.” You frown, trying to figure out why your thinking wasn’t as sharp.

“Yeah,” Emma interjects, “They got security footage of the kidnapping.”

You feel unease rise in your throat.

“What?” You ask softly.

She pulls her phone up, unlocking it and holding it out to you. It’s a news report, a woman describing the details of your abduction while you watch grainy footage of yourself being tossed into the trunk of the car.

The video scrolls automatically when it's finished, and you hear the same voice inform that you’ve been found safe, this time, there’s pictures of you and Billy on the red carpet from earlier that night.

You dare to peek at the likes, seeing the number high into the millions and climbing.

“What the hell is going on.” You mutter softly as you take her phone and tap on the tags.

Dread sinks into your stomach, watching related videos of you and Billy, videos of you on the red carpet, the way you turn to look at each other, viewed by way too many people.

You give Emma back her phone, lost in a daze. If anyone were to dig deeper, who knows what they might find out. You can almost see the smear campaign brewing from a mile away.

You turn to Billy in fear.

“Dominic. If he talks-”

Billy’s hand squeezes your elbow reassuringly.

“He won’t. Don’t worry, it’ll blow over in a week.”

“But my old friends,” You protest, “If they confirm anything…”

“It’s alright. I’ll handle it.”

But you didn’t know exactly what that meant, and instead of inspiring ease, it only reminds you of the four men from last night who were no doubt rotting somewhere.

Your brain was being irrational, you knew that, you just couldn’t convince yourself of it.

You suck in a breath, turning to Billy for comfort but deciding against it, moving instead to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

You didn’t know what was going on with you, if it was the presence of your mother and sister clouding your thoughts, preventing you from seeking comfort in the man living with you. Or if it was actual rational sense finally making its way into your body, highlighting the absurdity of him willing to go that far for you.

You groan when you slide into the stool at the counter, hip throbbing.

Billy is beside you in an instant.

“Doctor should be here in a few minutes. Are you hungry? I can have something brought up.”

You swallow, nodding, glancing around him to look at your mom and sister.

“Are you guys hungry?” You offer.

It's a little difficult to keep up with the conversation, listening to both women explain how they found out what had happened, and the lengthy task of finding their way here.

You sip on the ginger tea Billy made for you while you wait for the doctor to arrive, your husband having excused himself a few minutes ago to make some calls.

You recount the events of last night to them, trying not to remember the fear and anxiety, focusing only on the details, the things you saw and heard, rather than the tightness of the space in the trunk, and the pain of being roughly manhandled.

They ask questions you can’t answer. How did Billy find you so quickly? What happened to the men? You only shake your head and explain that you hadn’t had time to ask.

When Billy comes back, he's got the doctor beside him, a woman, smiling easily at everyone.

She checks you out in your office, Billy waiting right outside while she presses your bruises to examine them. You try to be still, but when she touches your tender hip, you can barely stand the pain.

You ask her softly to get your husband, and when his face enters your vision, you smile at him. He takes your hand in his, and lets you squeeze however hard you want when the doctor continues her examination with your permission.

Tears pool in your eyes, but it's over quickly, her consult ending with a shot of painkiller which begins to work by the time she leaves.

The T.V is on when you step into the living room, at first you think it’s something random, until you see footage of outside your apartment building. You watch in horror as they replay a video of the doctor entering the building, and then another video of maybe a minute ago when she left.

You turn away from the screen when you see the replay of the security footage from last night appear, the broadcaster's clear and articulate voice talking over the video of you being tossed into the trunk of the car is too loud to ignore.

Had the world gone insane? What was happening right now? Were there actually people camped outside your home?

You catch sight of Billy, stepping into the hallway after making more calls. You look at him until he feels your gaze and glances up at you.

He can see your discomfort, you know he can, his eyebrows pinch as he approaches.

“What is it?” He asks.

“There are people outside our apartment taking pictures.” You say.

He blinks, ducks his head into the room to glance at the TV. You hear him release a breath of frustration.

“I didn't want you to find out.”

“Yeah, I would have rathered not knowing.” You agree.

“What can I do?” He asks suddenly, his hands cupping your arms gently, rubbing them up and down to soothe you.

“I'm already handling the paparazzi, but if you want to be alone, I don’t mind risking more hate to get your mom and sister out.” He finishes his sentence on a whisper.

It makes you smile, the idea of such a showdown.

“I wish we were back in that castle.” You say softly, “before all of this, when it was just you and me.”

Billy lets out a breath, pulls you into him until your face is pressed squarely to his chest.

“I promise, it'll all be okay. This will blow over, and we can go wherever you want.”

“You know,” You say suddenly, deep in thought, “I don't remember everything about that night in Vegas.”

He seems to hesitate, probably surprised at the sharp turn of the conversation.

“Really?” He asks.

You hum the affirmative.

“I remember meeting you, and then we had a few drinks together, and then we left I guess? I don't remember anything until after, when we're heading up to your room.”

“Oh.”

“I keep wondering what you could have possibly said to me to convince me to go along with it. What state of mind could I have been in?”

“Maybe we can talk about this later.”

“Yeah.” You agree in a sad tone, withdrawing from his embrace.

He cups your face suddenly, avoiding your bruise but making sure your eyes are on his.

“Where is this coming from?” Billy asks, his eyes so dark you can't see his pupil.

“I don't know,” You lie, “I guess I've just been thinking about it a lot because I don't know how to answer if someone asks.”

You can hear the pain in his breath when he exhales next.

“Something’s wrong, isn't it? You've been- even before last night- you can talk to me.”

You nod in understanding, turning away when you hear the TV click off. You reach to pry Billy's palms off your face, turning to step into the living room.

“Later.” You say to him, hopefully reassuring him that it wasn't so detrimental.

Though, maybe it was more serious than even you knew.

You let out a frustrated sigh, as once again, your mother asks a question that you can't answer.

How on earth were you supposed to know why you'd been taken?

“They could have picked anyone there,” your mother tries to explain, “Why you?”

You contemplate if your life before had been filled with such invasive questions, or if this was a recent development.

“I told them my name,” you respond, thinking out loud, “Maybe that's why?”

You swallow, looking around for Billy, who'd excused himself a minute ago to answer a call. It was funny that she didn't ask these questions when he was around.

Or maybe not funny at all.

You meet her eyes, holding a thought that she doesn't want to say.

What was she thinking? That Billy had coordinated the kidnapping? Why? To make you trust him more?

A sharp pain sears into your chest, forcing you to break her gaze.

That couldn't be what she was thinking- what kind of person would do something like that?

“This robbery really makes no sense,” Emma inputs, replaying footage of the robbery on her phone, “I mean, these pieces they stole- are too unique to be resold without being traced. Why take such a big risk for these?”

You don't realise you're struggling to breathe until your head goes light.

For all your mother's astute observations, she doesn't notice your panic.

You stand, your body trembling, excusing yourself to the bathroom.

In the hallway, you suck in a shaky breath, covering your ears and closing your eyes shut.

The memory of the night comes back, the fear, the pain. Billy wouldn't put you through all of that on purpose.

Right?

It wouldn't be hard for someone like Billy to do. He could have hired these men to fake the robbery so that they could kidnap you, scare you just enough so that when Billy finally rescues you, there's an undeniable bond there that can't be broken so easily.

You didn't see the men die, for all you know they could still be alive, sipping margaritas on a tropical island just as planned.

Angry now, you storm into your office, your hands scraping against the wood of your drawer as you shove your hand in to reach for that dreaded manilla folder.

You don't think about anything until you've got your signature printed on those divorce papers.

It's terrifying to look at. The very thought of it, of being without the man that makes you feel so happy. The man that holds you and loves you and would kiss every single inch of you if you only gave him the chance.

This man wouldn't hurt you.

Which is probably exactly what he wants you to think.

Heartbroken, you drop the papers into the top drawer, sliding it shut, leaving the office in search of him.

Your mind was so scattered, and your heart was fragmenting, and you needed the very man you were supposed to hate.

You find him in his office, sitting at his desk, talking into his cell. He glances up at you when you darken his doorway.

He sees something in you that makes him let out a sigh, raising a hand to silently signal you to come closer.

Your chest is tight as you approach him, pressing the door shut behind you and snapping the lock. You didn't want anyone stumbling onto you.

He's in a black t-shirt and grey sweats, and he looks adorably delicious the longer your gaze at him, the reassurance you seek taking on a different form.

He's still talking into the phone, but his eyes swallow you up when you reach to push the waistband of your shorts down your legs. He swallows, adjusting himself in his seat, his fingers twitching eagerly at the sight of you.

You let out a soft sigh, smiling at him as you slide into his lap.

Pressing your face to his chest, you take a deep breath, appreciating the smell of him, letting his presence both soothe and excite you.

He makes a soft humming noise, his fingers brushing the base of your spine and working his hand up to the back of your neck.

It spreads tingles all over your body, and you smile into his neck at the easy sensation.

That's what this was. Easy.

The beating of your heart, the air filling your lungs, you close your eyes and sink into him, enjoying the sound of his voice as he talks to someone about non disclosure agreements.

Why you? You hear your mother's voice interject into your head.

You let out a frustrated breath, trying to push away the memory.

Billy's hand tightens on the back of your neck. You shift your hips and blink in surprise when you feel his stiff erection below you.

You raise your head for an explanation.

He gives you an apologetic smirk, and a lift of his eyebrows, as if to say, what did you expect?

And really, what had you expected? That your husband, a man so obsessed with you that he essentially stalked you for years, would suddenly not want you?

It excites you, your heart beating faster as you feel arousal pool in your abdomen.

You reach down, hand snaking between your bodies, till your fingers wrap around his stiff member over his sweatpants.

His chest deflates harshly, his head tilts back, he eyes you as you begin rubbing your palm against his length.

You take your time admiring his size, hidden beneath his clothes you marvel at the fact that he fits into you.

In the depths of your head, you can't help comparing him to the inadequacies of past lovers. Billy was definitely above average in many aspects.

His mouth drops open in your peripherals when you tug on the waistband of his sweats, reaching in to touch him directly.

His throat bobs as your fingers curl around his length, hissing through his teeth when your thumb swipes over his tip.

You think about leaving him, and the consequences of that. The very idea that he might move on from you hurts, that he could find someone else to give himself to makes your throat tighten sadly.

His cock is warm in your hand, and you shimmy his sweats lower so that you can see him, his length rising up when released, a bead of precum forming at his slit.

You lick your lips, tempted to taste him, to feel his warm comfort on your tongue and know that you’ll never find another quite like him.

You give him a few strokes, wondering if you were ready enough to take him.

“Let me put you on hold for a second,” he says into his phone, “I just have something quick to handle.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before you watch him press the hold button.

“That your lawyer?” You ask conversationally as you stroke him.

“Ours. What are you doing, sweetheart?”

“I missed you.” You say with a pout.

Billy gives you a small smile.

“And is your plan to tease me to death?”

You let out a little giggle.

“Noo, my plan is to ride you quietly.”

He closes his eyes and gives a little laugh of disbelief.

“Alright then, little wife. I don’t want to hear you make a single sound or you’ll be in big trouble. Understand?”

You nod eagerly.

“Yes, sir.”

He groans, before lifting the phone back to his ear.

“Go ahead.” He says into the phone, looking right at you.

If you weren’t wet enough before, you sure are now, tugging your panties to the side, lifting your hips so that his cock head slips between your folds.

You shudder as his tip glides over your clit, and you take a few moments to use him to stimulate your aching bud, before pressing him against your entrance.

He’s big, stretching you open, you gasp as you manage to fit the tip of his cock into your aching cunt.

Billy tips his head back, lips parted as he tries to keep his breathing soft and deep. You gulp, pressing lower, fighting your body’s resistance, rocking slowly on his cock to encourage your body into accepting him.

He feels so good, you try not to clench around him prematurely, wanting him to feel you fully before you begin really tormenting him.

You grip his shirt tightly, and he does the same to your ass, the possessive handful he has of you makes your brain hum happily.

That’s it, little wife, your brain supplies his voice, just like that.

You exhale, moving slowly, lifting your body, to bring yourself back down on his cock.

His lashes flutter, his eyes locked on your wanton form. He releases his grip on your ass to press his fingers to your clit softly.

You gasp, a little louder than expected, his fingers moving dexterously over your aching bundle as you shiver with delight, catching your arousal on his fingers before sucking them into his mouth.

He doesn’t do it for long, before pressing his fingers right back to your clit.

The compulsion to remain quiet makes it that much hotter, though you find yourself missing his breathy moans of bliss.

He traps your clit between his middle and ring fingers, gliding back and forth to draw sweet gasps of pleasure out of you.

You reach up, under your shirt to grip your breast, your thighs beginning to burn with your gentle bouncing on his cock.

You tip your head back, eyes closing in bliss as you continue to rock eagerly on him, enjoying the way he fills you, the way he glides along the deepest parts of you, feeling you from the inside.

When you’re fully seated on him, you clench eagerly, feeling his size fully against your inner walls. You bite the edge of your lip as euphoria lights up your brain, originating from your aching center.

He pulls the phone from his ear, mouth open in a silent groan, eyes rolling back in his head.

You grin between breaths, watching him struggle to get some of his senses back, he lifts his head to look at you with determined eyes.

“Nelson,” He says into the phone, “Let me call you back in an hour.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before handing up.

“Are you satisfied, sweetheart?” Billy whispers, his iron grip on your waist, sliding under your rear to support the lifting and dropping of your hips.

“Ah, god, you feel so fucking good wrapped around me,” he rambles, “my perfect fucking wife.”

“Shhh,” You hiss, leaning in to place a warm kiss on his lips, “We have to be quiet.”

He lets out a grunt of dissatisfaction.

“ ‘S not fair- to only be able to have a little of you- I need it all.” He reaches up to pull your shirt off, getting you completely naked while he remains clothed.

He kisses your chest softly, and you struggle to remain quiet.

“I need all of you,” He hums into your skin, “Your touch, your taste-” He licks into your mouth eagerly.

“The sound of your moans on my tongue- I need it.”

You suck in a shaky breath, raising a hand to cup his face, pressing your thumb against his lips.

“You need… to be quiet.” You scold softly.

“I love you,” He gasps, “I fucking love you.”

Your hand drops from his mouth to grip his shoulder, getting leverage to ride his cock faster, the soft slapping of your skin filling the room as you’re filled too.

You nod your head in agreement, pressing your mouth to his, breathing in his air, enjoying the feel of his beard against your chin.

You press your head into his neck, biting down on the deliciously corded muscle of his shoulder as you feel your cunt tremble around him.

“Yes,” he urges on a whisper, “I need to feel you come around me, wife.”

His last word pushes you over the edge, fingers digging into the chair as you lose logical thought, feeling it be replaced with mindless pleasure, gripping his cock so tightly that you’re almost unsure if you’ll be able to let him go.

You tremble, the pleasure slamming into you in waves, his soft groans in your ear are perfectly timed with the quivering of your cunt.

You don’t know how he does it, but he pulls you off of him gently, placing you on wobbly legs for a moment before turning you around to bend over his desk.

You tremble when you feel his tongue, tasting your still fluttering cunt for a moment, the slippery appendage finding your pulsing clit with ease.

You slap a hand over your mouth when he licks you just right, eyes rolling back, hips moving restlessly in delight.

He moans into your cunt, and you don’t have the heart to remind him to be quiet, the feeling of his tongue on your aching center is almost too much to withstand.

He stops, and then you feel his cock at your entrance once more, slipping into you, deeper than before, pressing almost painfully to your deepest spots.

It’s where he belongs, you think, biting down on your index finger as he withdraws to fill you roughly, a low moan leaving his mouth on each breath.

“Mine.” He grunts roughly, “All mine.”

You feel inclined to agree with him.

He pounds into you repeatedly, and you lie there and happily take every inch of him until his hips stutter and he groans, spilling into you so deliciously that you find yourself coming too from just the sensation of his release.

It’s almost like you’re made for him, your mind gives a wistful thought, and you smile as he turns you, pulling you back into his lap, both your legs draped over the arm of his chair this time.

He smiles at you, his lips are pink, and bitten and his cheeks are rosy and you smile back, his hand raising to smooth your wild hair out of your face.

You can feel his cum, slipping out of you, getting you messy in an uncomfortable way, but the pleasure is still moving through you, and you can’t think about cleaning yourself up right now.

He rotates the chair, so that he can reach the top drawer on the left side of the table without moving you, pulling out a fluffy white square of cloth.

You watch curiously as he parts your legs gently, swiping the soft cloth between your thighs to clean you up.

It’s such a mundane thing, nothing really special about it. Except that the cloth is so soft you can barely feel it on your oversensitive parts.

Something twists in your stomach, a realisation that you must have had a hundred times before.

That you loved him, not just because of the big things he did, but also because of the little ones, the unnoticed things that no one but you could see.

Telling him you loved him wasn’t enough, you needed to stitch your souls together with the very threads of the universe so that he understood that you would never abandon him, that you would never give up on him.

That you could search for lifetimes and never find someone like him.

You relax against his chest, the words too heavy in your throat to be spoken out loud. Their anchor, lying in the top drawer of your office desk.

Billy can feel your mother’s eyes on the back of his head.

He’s handled people trying to rip him to shreds that have unsettled him less than this woman.

He's trying to be cordial, asking them politely about possible dinner plans, willing to be as nice to his in laws as possible, but he can sense your mother's disapproval of him, as if there's another presence in the room.

You decide on ordering from an Indian restaurant, before you step away to shower. You kiss him on the cheek before you leave, and he feels his stomach flutter at the reminder that his cum was probably still dripping out of you.

“So Billy,” you mother calls out as you leave, and he feels the flutters dry up as fast as they came, “Do you have guns here?”

He tries not to stiffen in defense, turning to face her with a calm expression.

“Yes.” he answers honestly.

You look so much like your mother, he can see where you get your eyes from, though yours have never regarded him with such suspicion.

“How many guns?” She presses.

“In the apartment? Or in the building?”

She definitely doesn't like that question, her face giving an uncomfortable twitch that would make him laugh in any other scenario.

“The apartment.” She clarifies.

He thinks for a moment about the armory hidden in the closet.

“Around… ten,” He answers, recounting, “Maybe fifteen.”

Emma hums in thought, grabbing plates to set the table, and Billy asks her to grab two extra plates for Frank and Maria, a little surprise for you.

“How many people have you killed?” She asks next, and Billy watches Emma pause to give her mother a look of warning.

“Um… Keep in mind that most of these are from my time in the Marines…but uh… three? Yeah, three hundred.”

Emma makes a sound of disbelief, but Billy squares his shoulders, unashamed at the things he's had to do to keep himself and his people safe.

“Those men that kidnapped her,” your mother follows up, tilting her head in the direction of the door you left through, “Did you kill them too?”

Billy sucks in a deep breath, feeling his interrogation training kick in.

“You a cop?” He teases.

“Did you kill them to cover up your scheme?” She presses.

He tilts his head, doesn't understand what she means.

“What scheme?”

Emma exhales loudly, grabbing Billy’s attention. He turns his head to observe her, trying to figure out what exactly they were thinking.

“Drop it, mom, please.” Emma says.

It takes Billy a moment to fit the poorly made pieces together. Did they think that he’d had you kidnapped on purpose? Why would they think he would do that? Unless-

The very thought of it made him sick to his stomach. That he would ever hurt you like that. That he was even capable.

They must know, Billy realises, you must have told them.

He feels something dark fill him, acidic, burning a hole through his stomach and poisoning his heart.

It takes him a moment to hear the knock on the door.

Moving on autopilot, he excuses himself to get it.

Is it betrayal that he feels? He can’t tell, nothing is confirmed and his chest doesn’t understand what his brain is trying to tell him. If your family knew, were they making plans on your behalf? He knew you hadn’t contacted a lawyer, but what if they had, for you?

The worst thought of all was that he’d driven you to this. That you’d really felt so trapped, so caged that you couldn’t even bring yourself to mention it to him. It makes him hate himself, that maybe he really was the monster everyone saw him as.

He hopes it doesn’t show on his face when he pulls open the door. He lets Maria’s attack hug soothe him into a smile, reaching for Frank next, the larger man clapping him on the back easily.

“You know there’s a shit ton of cameras outside your building? Even the back entrance? We had to use the garage.”

Billy nods, “Yeah, legally I can’t do anything about it. Illegally, I’m gonna shine some lasers at their cameras and fuck up their lenses.”

Frank laughs loudly shaking his head.

“Frank?” Billy hears your voice call from the hallway, he turns to watch you step into view, your hair still damp from your shower.

“Maria?” You say eagerly when you notice her.

“Surprise!” Maria says excitedly as you approach, embracing each other in a warm hug.

You seem confused for a moment, before your eyes meet his. He feels a pang of fear go down his throat.

“I asked them to come,” He explains, “I hope that’s okay.”

You reach for him then, your hands on his face, he closes his eyes as you kiss him eagerly. Laughing into your mouth as he hears Frank groan in torment.

“More than okay, Billy.” You answer, turning to embrace Frank next.

“Boy, you’ve looked better.” Frank teases you, as he sees the fully formed bruise on your face.

Billy watches you laugh.

“We only seem to meet when things have gone to shit, that’s why.” You shoot back.

“Come on, you should meet my mom and sister.” You say eagerly, leading the small group towards the dining table.

Billy lags behind, hesitating to follow.

Whatever lingering tension there is between Billy and your mom, is washed away with Maria's easy smile.

Frank is definitely one lucky bastard, to have met someone that blooms so gracefully under scrutiny.

You have a suspicious thought that maybe your mother wishes you were more like Maria, but the grace and warmth she has, doesn't come easy to you.

Your mother eyes Maria's scar carefully, you watch as she turns her head to meet your eyes, and you drop your gaze, finding your naan much more interesting in that moment.

It’s another accusation, one that hurts you to think about. You want to reach for Billy’s hand, but you decide against interrupting his meal with your insecurities.

You listen, content to hear Maria describe her kids, pulling up photos of ballet recitals and swimming for everyone to see, watching the way Frank silently reassures her as she goes on, and you wish one day that you have a love so secure, without the insecurity, and the fear. That you know with all your heart that the love you have is real and meant for you.

Maria and Frank are kind enough to help with the dishes, and Billy sits you on the couch with a kiss to your head and a cup of tea so that you can rest while he works.

It's where your mom finds you, curled up under a warm blanket.

She settles beside you, and you watch her with weary eyes as she get comfortable before looking at you.

“Have you decided yet?” She asks.

“No.” You whisper, “Mom, I think I love him.”

She lets out a slow breath, nods as if she understands, but you're not sure that she does.

“It always feels like love until it doesn't. I just want you to be safe, muffin, and nothing about him seems safe.”

You can't help the wistful smile that pulls onto your face.

“I know it's weird to say, but there was this moment last night, when he found me, he picked me up and he walked me out, and that was the safest I've ever felt in my life. No one has ever made me feel like that.”

She reaches over, covering your hand with hers.

“Just be sure about it. Find a way to know.”

You nod in understanding.

“If you're not sure, you'll spend your whole life tormented and wondering.” She finishes.

“I get it, yeah. Thanks mom… for looking out for me.”

She squeezes your hand affectionately.

For all the struggles you had with your mother, she did in fact care about you.

So in the morning, when she and Emma leave to go back home, you walk them all the way to the front door of your apartment, staying inside in case there are any lingering paparazzi outside trying to get a photo of your bruised face, Billy a few steps back, keeping a polite distance.

Your mother gives him a nod of acknowledgement, and Emma gives him a parting hug, and you try not to smile at how uncomfortable he looks.

“They'll warm up to you.” You reassure him as you watch them climb into one of Billy's secure vehicles, driving away soon after.

He doesn't say anything, which you find very odd, and you reach to take his hand in the elevator, pulling you into his chest at the first moment he can.

“I love you so much.” He murmurs into your hair, and you grin, face pressed into his chest, breathing in his scent.

“I love you too.” You reply, squeezing him happily.

When you step out of your morning shower. He isn't anywhere to be found. You call his name, searching the usual spots for signs of him, confused as to why he didn't tell you he was leaving if he had to.

The counter is bare of any note, and you sigh, heading back to Billy's office to use the landline to call his cell.

You stop short in the hallway when you find the door to your office ajar.

Your heart jolts in your chest, as you push the door open, struggling to breathe as your eyes find him, his back to you, holding the divorce papers in his hands.

He turns when he hears the quiet sound of his name on your lips, his face devoid of any emotion as he drops the small stack of papers onto your desk. Your stomach turning with fear and anxiety, threatening to stop your breathing before he can even utter a word to express his betrayal.

There's no feeling worse than this, the very real possibility that you risk losing him for good because you were too much of a coward to say what you were really feeling.

“Billy.” You whisper again, approaching calmly, “This isn't what you think.”

“I love you.” He says calmly his dark eyes flitting up to meet yours.

“I-” you say softly, trying to force the words out, to save your marriage before it's too late.

His dry laughter is like a knife to your chest.

“I have watched you for years, and in all that time, I’ve never realised how good of a liar you could be.”

“Please,” You struggle to say, your throat closing up in the moments when you need your voice the most, “It’s not what you think.”

“You filled your side out completely. But my social security and signature is missing.” You watch him reach for a pen on your desk, your heart aching with each scratch of the pen as he fills out his side of the forms.

A tear slips down your cheek.

“Stop.” You utter, shaking.

When he ignores you, you march right up to him.

“Stop it right now.” You hiss, grabbing the papers and flinging them across the room. He straightens in response, finally seeing your wretched expression.

You sob, reaching for him, and like the loving man he is, he takes you into his arms.

“Why don’t you want me?” He whispers softly, his voice cracking on the last word and you feel a dam break inside of you.

You cry into his chest, gripping him tightly, his own tears hitting your temple, travelling down to mix with your own.

“I’m sorry,” You hiccup, gripping his shirt, “I’m sorry.”

You raise your head to look up at him, his thumbs pushing your tears away, but the more he cares, the more you cry.

“I want to love you, I want to with everything I have, but I-I don’t know.”

You grip his shirt, trying to show him how you feel, to open yourself up to him in a way you’d been trying to bottle.

“You chose me, but you never gave me the chance to choose you, and now I don’t know if the love I feel is real- or just a survival mechanism.”

“It’s my fault,” Billy whispers bitterly, “I can’t blame you.”

You think it would hurt less, to be stabbed, than watching the little boy in Billy’s eyes, face rejection all over again.

You cup his face between your palms, shaking his head a little so that he keeps his focus on you.

“I just need some time, apart, I just need to be sure that this is what I want.”

It’s like he doesn’t hear you, or the words don’t register, you tilt your head up, pressing your mouth to his. The agony of tasting his tears burns at you, and still you kiss him, you kiss him till he’s kissing you back, chasing your mouth the way he does.

“If you love me, if you really love me, you need to let me go.”

He shakes his head, seeking out your lips.

“I can’t.” he whispers brokenly.

“Then I’ll stay,” You promise between kisses, “I’ll stay with you and I’ll hold you and I’ll take every inch of you whenever you like- but you’ll never know for sure, if this is what I really want.”

You suck in a breath, breaking the kiss to look up at him.

“Can you live with that?” You ask.

He squeezes his eyes shut, and finally, he shakes his head.

A/N: List of things I did while writing this:

cried

punched pillows

screamed

struggled to hurt my babies

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #accidentally on purpose #billy russo x female reader #my writings #the punisher #billy russo smut

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