#but if you are like completely shutting them out ALL THE TIME

[serenenecrosis-twt]

While I appreciate the sentiment, I need you to understand that this is inherently wrong.

It's very difficult to even physically get to libraries in cities underserved by public transit when you are poor. Public transit costs money and time and energy that a person with three jobs who already has to take the bus to and from work doesn't usually have. It's a situation of having one day out of seven off work that you'd rather sleep through than spend on the bus just to go get books. Libraries that are chronically underfunded also close down frequently, don't always have the digital services of larger ones, and have political controversies around book bans and rightist administrators who deface and disappear materials by queer and black creators. It's all well and good to talk about the ease of access from a completely online experience where digital copies of books are removed automatically from your account on the due date, but that completely ignores the major issue of those same poor communities being disproportionately impacted by late fees on in person materials and services.

A big city library may have supportive queer and black staff, a huge selection of books, no late fees, robust digital services, free interlibrary loans, and be directly near a major transit hub, while a library in a rural area may be physically hard to access, have pay-to-play interlibrary loans, little to no digital services, charge 50¢ per day per late item, a tiny selection of heavily censored and restricted materials, and an openly hostile staff. And rural areas are disproportionately poor. Add all that on top of the fact that the number of people who are even aware and appreciative of libraries and other public services is dwindling and explicitly discouraged by the American school system, and all libraries are systematically underfunded by the government.

Imagine you are poor and disabled, nobody in your school even likes the library, your teachers don't value it, it's a struggle to access it, it's only open from 9am-3pm Monday through Wednesday and no weekends because they don't have a budget for any more staff, the materials are censored, the staff they do have is politically hostile, it's dirty and smells weird because they don't have money for a full time janitor, it's jam-packed with underserved homeless people for the short hours it's open, materials from other libraries cost money, they don't offer digital services (you can't even afford home wifi to use them if they did), and you can't check out any new items until you find the book you lost and pay your late fees.

The capitalist system in the US Regime systematically seeks to make libraries obsolete, shut them down, and replace them with for-profit services. Every good thing about libraries that exists, exists under conditions of extreme adversity, and are unequally distributed in an openly classist and politically biased manner.

There is no 'good will hunting' solution to extreme poverty. It's actually not possible to fly over a fence by pulling on your bootstraps. There are no degrees or job offers for what you can learn at a library. Even if you can leverage the reading comprehension of a dogshit public school to teach yourself advanced maths or science with library books, you're not going to solve a problem on a college whiteboard as the overnight janitor and get talent scouted into a six figure job. All that you can achieve by going to the library as a poor person is becoming a well-read poor person who is hyperaware of how utterly fucked you are.

There are millions of hood scholars and ex-con chess grandmasters who work at McDonald's with no prospects of life improvement. Many just flat out kill themselves because they know that there's no escape.

I hate anti-intellectualism as much as the next person, and yes, people who espouse it are obnoxious and outspokenly wrong about most things. But at the end of the day, this phenomenon is a direct result of the internal material conditions of the US Regime, and people who choose to be willfully ignorant are doing so because it's a better survival mechanism than being educated and helpless in the face of the crushing weight of a reality that most people cannot psychologically handle.

To endorse bootstrap exceptionalism as a solution to a problem that requires violent mass revolution, the complete upheaval of the status quo, and a top to bottom restructuring of the state to fix, is possibly even more ethically bankrupt than enjoying marvel movies or having broke opinions about women's makeup.

ever since i got access to american library cards thanks to tumblr user anneemay (pbuh) 2 weeks ago ive lost even the 3% sympathy i had for americans crying ofc we’re stupid and illiterate our schools suck!!! because you assholes have had FREE ACCESS to THOUSANDS of books and audiobooks and classic films this ENTIRE TIME you’ve been blaming your schools for your elected ignorance!!! from my home in India I’ve listened to eight audiobooks and watched half of cronenberg’s oevre and I’m watching nosferatu (1922) today and I can’t even go to a library in person and you people have had these things your entire life yet you come on tumblr at 18 19 20 and say you don’t know who james baldwin is and if you expect me to you’re classist and 18 year old Americans are too stupid to know bombing foreign countries kills people so it’s okay if they choose to do that rather than work at McDonald’s and of course I have no idea what stocks are or what colonialism is and MCU is the height of cinema and it’s feminist to wear makeup like. my god. you people are going to go through the rest of your life being incoherently stupid and it’s not because you’re poor and it’s not because your schools suck but its because you’re so ensconced in your American privilege that you will never be forced to confront the realities of life and you can go on living your Disney adult fantasies because you’ve destroyed your innate human curiosity and potential at the altar of hyper consumption.

[tojislibrvry]

★ ︵ @ nanami / reader , dēgrādatīon , smūt , mentions of sexual harassment , using your safe word

nanami loves being a little rough w you, a little condescending. he loves to see tears collecting on your lash line just so he can kiss them away and hold you close. he knows that you enjoy this dynamic too, that you enjoy being treated like this. you've said so multiple times.

but sometimes he can go overboard.

like this time, where kento has you in a mean mating press, your legs on his shoulder shaking as he thrusts deeper into you, you can feel him all the way up to your throat — so full of him. you feel like your cervix might bruise the way he pulls back and pushes in, a single thrust knocking the wind out of you.

"k-kento! s'too much—" you sob, mind far gone, "—please, just a mo-ment!" you whine, pulling him close and muffling your cries on his shoulder.

he doesn't stop, his cock filling you up with an unforgiving pace. you already had cum on his fingers once and you could feel your second orgasm of the night approaching.

"fuck! just take it—" he grunts, groaning in your ear, "that's all you are good for yeah? fuck, don't you dare cum right now, filthy slut—"

your eyes widen, even though you usually wouldn't be surprised. you loved it when he talked to you like this.

something about being catcalled on your way to work and then being hit on by your manager made his words seem real.

it made you feel like, you truly were only good for this.

"k-kento?" you say, nails digging deep into his muscles, "—i can't!" you are barely able to complete your sentence when his thumb begins to play with your clit, broken moans bouncing off the walls.

"shut the fuck up and take it like the whore you are —" he moans as he pushes in deeper than possible.

"kento! stop... red! no more—" you yell out finally, tears spilling out of your pretty eyes, your hands tapping thrice on his shoulder.

it takes nanami a moment to register what was going on, and he almost immediately pulls out. he looks at you, eyes confused but affectionate.

"my sweet girl... i am so so sorry" he whispers, "what's wrong baby? was that t' much?" he sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, peppering soft kisses on your face.

he sees you struggling to answer and immediately silences you with a kiss.

"you don't need to answer, my love. take your time baby, let's get you cleaned up now." he carries you to the shower and holds you as he cleans you up.

"my girl's the prettiest, love you so much sweetheart." he says while he dries you with a soft towel, dressing you in your favourite tshirt of his.

he makes sure to kiss you everywhere, and tells you how much he loves you.

"sorry k-kento, just had a really bad day, i thought if you just treated me like usual, everything would be fine." his eyes mist over.

"oh...pretty, whenever you have a bad day, you need to tell me. that's what im here for, here for you." he leans over to kiss you softly, lips lingering.

"let's watch grey's while we eat some leftovers, and after that if you want, we can talk about your day."

you smile at him, knowing you lucked out with love when he held you again.

.

not so nice! nanami who tracks down the man who had cat called you with the help of his connections and makes sure he is never able to talk again.

not so nice! nanami who gets the HR immediately involved and gets that manager blacklisted so no one can hurt his pretty girl again.

[p3achfilm]

imagine firefighterhusband toji! who gets woken up during the night by his beautiful drunk wife that is needy for him after a girls night out.leads to him getting pussy drunk off of us riding him with our megan knees like there's no tmrw. reader having a confidence boost and high stamina, almost making his ass tap out bc the pussy is too good.

hope u like this request! 🫶🏽

needy. toji.

thank you for the request anon! im sorry it took me so long to write, hope you enjoy <3 nsfw! minors dni.

“t-toji... tojiii,” the burly man’s eyes flutter open slowly, adjusting to the dark room. the dim light from the streetlamp outside barely penetrates the heavy curtains, casting long shadows across the room. lifting his head slightly, he feels the coolness of the pillowcase against his cheek. his eyes saunter over to the nightstand, clock reading three a.m. he frowns, blinking away the remnants of sleep. it slightly startles him when he sees you leaning down beside him, your silhouette a comforting yet unexpected presence. he’s immediately sitting up, the bed creaking slightly under his weight, and turning on the lamp. the sudden brightness makes him squint.

“baby? you okay?” his voice is thick with concern, his eyebrows bunching together in worry, knowing you’d been out with a couple of your friends. he sighs in relief when you giggle, the sound musical and light, and nod, your hair falling messily over your face. “m’ fine... missed you s-s’much.” your words are slurred, but the sincerity in them is unmistakable.

it’s hard to ignore the way his heart palpitates as his drunk girlfriend palms him through his sweatpants, your touch sending shivers down his spine. the warmth of your breath, tinged with the faint scent of alcohol, the soft giggles that escape your lips, and the way you nuzzle close to him, your body pressing against his, make his heart swell. you know he’d worked a long day at the station, but the heat building between your legs as you stare at your husband is undeniable. “i. . need you, please?” before he can fully comprehend your words, he’s nodding yes.

“oh my god,” sharp intakes of ragged breaths is all he can manage, toes curling, sweat beading across his tanned skin as you rode his cock unapologetically. his moans were guttural, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips so tight it would leave bruises and indents, and if you weren't enjoying this as much as you were, you'd chastise him for that. but, with the way your pussy was greedily taking his thick shaft, all you could do was mewl and moan, hands resting on his chest to brace yourself, eyes half lidded and cloudy as you stared down at him.

he looked up at you, mouth slightly agape, his tongue peeking out just enough, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth. his hair was messy, bangs clinging to his forehead from sweat, the rest fanned out under his head. his fingers moved from your hips to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze, before slapping it once, twice, a third time, all accompanied with a moan and a buck of his hips. “i. . fuck m’so sore.” he whines, he’d lost track of how many times he’d came, and even now he could feel himself ready to cum again.

you lean over him, a smirk playing on your lips as you give him a sloppy kiss, pulling away a second later, sitting back up. he’s completely pussy drunk. his eyes are half lidded, pupils dilated, cheeks red and flushed. the sight is cute, and you can't help but chuckle a little. you lift your hips up, his cock slipping out, and he whines pathetically and bucks his hips again.

it doesn't take long for him to get his wish, sinking back down onto his slick cock. the two of you fall into a slow pace, his hips lazily rolling up into yours, his eyes clamping shut. you can tell he's tired, but the fact that he still wants more is enough to make your heart flutter.

a hand snakes down, a single finger rubbing against your clit. his hips stutter at the sight, letting out a deep growl as he feels your walls clenching around him. his thrusts grow harder, his cock hitting against that sweet spot inside of you, and your eyes are rolling back, moans growing louder.

and, god, he wants to hear more of it. his finger starts rubbing your clit faster, the feeling overwhelming, your thighs quivering. “so good to me, so f-fucking good to me baby.” steel glossy eyes rolling into the back of his head, teeth gritting as you gripped him. you’d never fucked him like this, and he was in shambles to say the least. “doing so good baby,” you gasp, his free hand comes up, gripping your chin, tugging your face down towards his. he gives you a sloppy wet kiss, moaning into your mouth as you fuck him senseless. he doesn’t know how your drunk ass has the stamina to keep up with this brutal pace.

he’s cumming again with a loud cry, it’s almost painful as he shoots his load inside of you. yet, you keep your movements steady. his cock still throbbing, twitching inside of you, and he can feel his cum starting to leak out. he can’t take anymore, he swears he can’t. “please slow down!” he breathes, voice shaky.

you comply, hips coming to a slow stop. his cock is still rock hard and throbbing inside of you, and his cum is still oozing out. toji has never tapped out during sex but tonight he might. the idea excites you.

you start rocking your hips back and forth slowly, letting him catch his breath for a moment. he groans, his chest rising and falling heavily, the sight makes you bite your lip. you can tell he wants to cum again, his hands trembling, and his jaw clenched.

he's not going to last much longer, he can feel it. your pussy feels too good, he's been sensitive since the first orgasm. and the way you're moving now is making him dizzy. he’s a mess, and you know it. "cumming, i'm. fuck-fuckin' cumming!" he lets out a guttural moan, his head pushing back into the pillow as he cums again.

the sensation is intense, and he can feel tears pricking the corners of his eyes. "i can't take anymore." he’s panting, his chest rising and falling as his grip loosens on your hips. and still, you don’t stop.

you’re gonna be the death of him.

[fushiguruuzzzz]

+ CHAPTER NINE // COOLIO.

series mlist

Tags — mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating, implications that readers mother was cheated on, angst Words — 0.7k

Toge Inumaki was a liar.

Toge Inumaki was a big fat liar because not only had he promised he’d be watching you, but he also said girls never paid him any mind. As you stared at him across the room, through the clumps of people swaying drunkenly along with your music, you could see him contradicting both of those statements. You had to force your voice to remain steady as you watched them, eyes locked onto the frame of the woman clinging to him like she was wrapped around his finger—like he was hers to wrap around. Was he? Well, it wasn’t like he was yours either, but that knowledge didn’t do much to soothe the aching in your ribs.

His back was turned to you. You could only imagine his face, but you figured it was much more attentive than it was when he looked at you. She was pretty by any standards, she just had this… glow to her. She radiated looks and confidence, magnetic and enticing as she batted her lashes up at him. As much as you hated to accept it, you knew Toge was only a man. Thats what you’d always known. That’s why you never bothered with men in the first place, until now, when you’d foolishly believed his eyes weren’t those who wandered.

Ripping your eyes away was a challenge, and had your chest not been resident to the bitter sickness planted by another’s beauty, you’d have been proud.

Her hand was on his arm. She was laughing. His shoulders shook as if he was too—but he remained faceless, expression as unknown as his entire presence felt in the moment. Was she leaning closer? You felt your heart pulsing in your ears, entire body crumpling in time with the beat. There was a sharp ringing in your ears, blocking out the strumming of guitars and the beating of drums. Then her lips were on his and you suddenly felt nauseous and the room was shrinking around you—all you knew was that you needed to get out. It was suddenly a curse that you had this love song to finish, because how could you let such tender things fall from your lips when all you felt inside was anguish? You felt utterly foolish. You’d been warned of these things, told stories like urban legends of the boys and the girls who swooped them up in their claws. You dared to glance back and were met with the same horrible sight, except it somehow felt worse than it had before.

And suddenly, you were your mother in a younger woman’s body. Nothing but a bystander to the downfall of your own romance. Her lips were on his, claiming the place you’d hope to mark as your own. It hit just a little too close to home, so you treated it like home. As soon as the familiar tune of the song ended, you ran. The microphone hit the ground and left nothing but a dull clang in place of your melodic vocals. You darted away so quickly that you didn’t see the way he scrambled away from her, nor the way his mouth opened to call after you. All he was met with was a door swinging shut and the crushing weight of a wrongdoing that wasn’t his, the misfortune of bad timing shattering his bones as well as your heart.

Megumi, Nobara, and Yuji didn’t waste any time in following you. They’d been frozen in place, background characters as the scene unfolded before them. The three shared one pit in their stomachs, growing deeper with the stretch of your absence and the desperate look in Toge’s eyes. His own friends were all the same, lips parted and for once, they were collectively unsure what to do. Only those who remained in the bar knew of your not-quite-lover’s resistance, those who had left only seeing one side. The bad side; the vague, untrue one. The one that would make you hate him, and even he knew that.

Toge lingered there, unable to swallow the lump in his throat as he glanced between where you once stood and his three peers. Shoving his face into his hands, he groaned. He was completely fucked.

Toge was HORRIFIED

Like he actually jumped four feet away from her

He only has huzz when he doesn’t want the huzz

Toge started blasting xxxtentacion full volume and lying starfish position staring at the ceiling

He was also chewing gum. Apparently the entire bottle of dawn dish soap didn’t wash out the taste of sluttery

Yn started blasting sad Lana del Rey and they were twinning from different households

“Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars” ass

Nobara went on a hate rant about Toge and threatened to sign him up for the military

I should really start proofreading shouldn’t I. Forgive me if these are booty I peaked as a writer a while ago Christmas break is almost over… 💔 I want to get Kilby girl done before then PLSSSUHHGG I’ll try. Ig…

Taglist — closed 50/50

@anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @adoresia @auroratumbles @sh0ot1ngst4r @soobin1437 @mystic-megumi @cinnamxnangel @lizbix @s3ns4ti0n4l @anonnieghost @s4toruz @gumims @bubybubsters @k4ss11333 @rreveurdoll @kaged-kitty @rwura @aldebrana @hqnge @good-mourning0 @daisies-and-domming @vi0let-writes @dazaisfavgf @hearts4aloise @coolgirl458 @keyaea @jealovsie @sirenla @academiq @mammoanlmao @moonchhu @ichcocat @blubearxy @hayl09 @q2uq2u @potteraep @fiannee @lailakys @jxisnwaol @treeguzzler @yatiimariiee @zayuriluvs @kr1nqu @cloudxox @azinniyaa @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @rottingvxmpire @gradmacoco @spkyssn

[screwitbaby]

cybergirl

hamzahthefantastic x reader (oneshot)

[part 1] (you don’t have to read it to read this one)

summary: you’re a cam girl and you have more power over hamzah’s horny ass than you can even comprehend.

contains: smut with plot ofc

w/c: 2.7k-ish

a/n: yall convinced me. can i even call this a oneshot anymore? anyway enjoy <3

~

The clock was ticking. Hamzah's eyes couldn't stay in one place. He knew he was obsessed with you—he couldn't even jerk off to random porn anymore, only you could keep him hard—but the extent of his infatuation was starting to take a toll on his daily life. Recording gaming videos and podcasts with Martin felt like such a chore when all he could think about was your plush thighs wrapped around his head or your face pressed into his pillows, ass up. 

It was like a parasite had taken over and he was merely a host body for something sinister that was controlling his every move. He wasn't even sure if he hated it. It was one of the only things bringing him unadulterated joy as of recent. His wallet certainly hated him for it, though.

His laptop was already on and set in place. You were about to start your weekly scheduled live broadcast and he was sat in bed, waiting obediently for your arrival. The thought of creepy, old retirees with beer guts and wives also waiting for you made his skin crawl. His brain conjured up torturous scenes of you on call with them, talking to them the same way you spoke to him. Charming them with your promising words and perfect tits. No, he was sure he was special. Right?

He slapped his cheeks lightly, trying to rid the thoughts from poisoning his mind. It didn't matter. He knew what he was getting into the moment he paid for that first private meeting. He just had to suck it up and have you in any way he could.

Your panties were laid out next to him, almost tricking him into believing you were there in the room with him at one point or another. When he came home from the studio a week ago and saw a package with cursive writing and glittery gift wrap sitting at his doorstep, he was tempted to banish Martin from the building as soon as he'd welcomed him. When Martin then asked him what was in the box as he was taking it up to his room, he froze. His lies about it being an eBay order were almost as easy to see as the half-chub rising beneath his sweatpants. Luckily, Mandy called her boyfriend within the hour and he left soon thereafter without bothering to question his best friend's strange behavior.

It was pathetic, the way he locked the door to his room and shut his blinds just to open a parcel. He felt like he was living with his family again, trying to minimize any possible chances that they'd walk in on him with his dick in his hand. But he was completely alone then, and as he carefully tore the wrapping to preserve your penmanship of his name on the shipping label, his heart was beating out of his chest. Swathed in pink tissue paper lay his only worldly evidence that you were real, not just a couple of pixels on his screen.

Your lilac, lacy, worn panties.

For the next few days, Hamzah didn't leave home. He sniffed, he rubbed, he moaned and groaned. And he was loud. Any sense of shame left him as soon as he came the first time. He was sure he'd pass out from the pleasure at some point, but it was like each climax recharged him with the power to go twice as hard. It took a while for him to get himself together. It took no time at all for him to tune in to your show.

So, here he was, anxiously staring at the chat room full of digital degenerates and convincing himself he wasn't cut from the same cloth. He was different. He respected you. He liked you for more than just your perfect tits, peachy ass, lustrous hair, smooth skin, wet pu—

Then, the camera turned on. The chat started going at a hundred miles per hour. The donations began to flow in. And all you had done was smile.

"Hi, everybody," you giggled, eyes scanning the screen as you waved. "Oh, wow! Thank you for all the donations! So eager for me."

Hamzah's heart twinged. He didn't want to be reminded that he wasn't the only one. He made a donation of his own as you began reading them out.

"Thank you for the hundred dollars, SuperSpreader77!" you gasped as the notification sounded. You placed your hand on your chest, drawing Hamzah's eyes to the blood-red, satin brassiere that adorned it. "I'll be sure to make it up to you."

You winked and bit your lip. Hamzah swore he could've melted right there. The damp spot on the front of his boxers stuck out sorely, his cock aching for a release that would certainly make him see stars.

"I missed you all so much." You pouted.

And just like that, his elation was cut short by your acknowledgment of the others.

The live lasted near an hour as you touched yourself and stared into the camera and teased and did all the right things to get Hamzah wrapped even tighter around your finger. Knowing he was there after his donation made you slightly more daring than usual. You spanked yourself with a frilly paddle until your ass was stinging and bruised—a little taste of what was to come. You weren't lying about making it up to him later.

By the end, Hamzah was sure his balls were really going to turn blue. He did touch himself—how could he not?—but he knew nothing would be better than to finish with you, one on one. So he edged closer and closer to the point of no return, denying himself of his orgasm as he rutted into his fist, wishing it was your mouth or your cunt. He watched with impressive self control as you came all over your own fingers, splayed across your mattress like a priceless painting that could only be rightfully witnessed in a museum.

You ended the live by blowing a kiss and Hamzah rushed to open the Zoom app. This time, you joined within a few minutes, still topless but with your thong back on. Hamzah wasn't sure if he was sad to see you covered up or more excited that he'd get to see it get pulled off again.

"Hi, angel," you greeted. Your eyes twinkled, face flushed and lips bitten red from your previous escapade. "I missed you the most."

Hamzah groaned like the words physically wounded him.

"You're driving me insane," he said.

His hand traveled down to his navel, but before he could grab himself, you spoke.

"Ah, ah," you tutted, stopping him in his tracks. "Did you get my little gift?"

"Yes." He nodded keenly, grasping the lace from beside him and running it down his torso until he draped it over his throbbing cock.

"Do I even want to know what you've done with it?" you asked, tilting your head to the side.

"The things I wish I could do to you," Hamzah answered honestly.

He pinched the lace between his fingers and ghosted the cloth across himself, sharply inhaling at the sensation. You bit your lip and Hamzah felt himself twitch. With the way you had soaked through your thong, you wondered if he'd want this pair, too.

"Did you enjoy my show?" you asked despite knowing the answer. "Enjoy yourself?"

"I waited for you," Hamzah said. "I wanted you. Alone."

"Are you hurting? Aching for me?"

"I want you so bad. You have no idea."

"I don't?"

Hamzah shook his head.

"Show me. Show me how you used those panties."

He immediately obliged. He began by gripping his shaft, spreading the precum from his tip downward. He moved your panties to encircle his cock, dragging against his balls deliciously as he pumped himself. His head fell back, already so close that he could feel his heartbeat drumming in his ears. You watched him hungrily.

"Gonna cum already?" You licked your lips, leaving them glossy. "Let me hear you, angel."

A loud moan tumbled from his lips, a sense of abandon washing through him as he pleasured himself in front of you. You observed the way the vein in his neck popped similarly to the ones on his cock and imagined how they'd taste, how they'd feel against your tongue. You began touching yourself, swirling your fingers around your swollen clit.

"I-I can't hold—c-can I?" he stuttered out, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Do it, Hamzah. Ruin my panties."

You lay flat on your back, neck craned to watch the screen as his movements grew fervent. You tried to match his pace, tried to fuck your fingers into your pussy as he bucked his hips, tried to picture it was him inside of you. He spilled into his hand, shouting your name over and over until his voice grew scratchy and he had released every last drop all over himself and the fabric. He hadn't even opened his eyes before he was hard again. You were the only Viagra he'd ever need.

"Wanna see you," he panted, attempting in vain to catch his breath.

He ran his thumb over his tip and shivered. You leapt from bed to pull your thong off and tossed it towards the camera playfully. When you bent over your desk, his eyes widened. The marks on your ass were red and angry, slightly raised in the shape of the paddle. He didn't know he had it in him, but he genuinely growled.

"Fuck me..." He gripped himself tighter, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head from how sensitive he was.

You reached into one of the drawers and slowly pulled a toy out from the back. Hamzah was pleased to see the dildo was of similar size to him. You knew it would never compare to the real thing, but it'd have to do. You spat onto it, slapping it against your sore ass a couple times and jumping at the sting. Hamzah fell into a trance, unable to do anything but moan as he watched you run the head against your dripping folds before pressing in.

You gasped, keeling over the desk as your wetness enveloped the entirety of the silicone. The feeling of every inch stretching you had you clamping around it as your body adjusted to the intrusion. You drew it out until just the tip was still inside. Then, all at once, you drove it back in with a cry.

"Hamzah!" you whimpered, head lolling to the side. "I-I'm—"

"You're doing so good, baby." He wrapped your panties around the base of his cock, intensifying his satisfaction as the fabric cinched around him. "Fuck yourself. Hard."

His hoarse voice combined with the pleasure passing through you made your legs shake. You could barely even hold yourself up. Your chest pressed against the cold wood and your nipples grazed the surface, rendering you speechless. Hamzah watched as you flicked your wrist as fast as you could and the dildo disappeared into you. You were in the clouds, gripping the edge of the desk with your other hand until your knuckles turned white.

"Shit, s-so fuckin’ pretty," Hamzah groaned.

You couldn't even see straight anymore, but you knew him well enough to know he was closing in on his second orgasm of the night. The carnal sounds of the both of you reverberated through your rooms, a mess of moans and wet slapping. When you screwed your eyes shut tight enough, it was almost as if you were there together.

"Cum f'me, baby," Hamzah grunted out, "only me."

"Only you, angel," you whined, your mouth staying ajar as you felt your stomach clenching and your toes curling.

Broken moans toppled from your lips. Any words said were inaudible, a jumble of sweet nothings as the two of you came in unison. Your wrist was cramping and you could feel your arousal making a mess all over your legs, but you couldn't bare to stop your movements. Pure bliss coursed through your veins and Hamzah strained to watch the way your orgasm turned your body into a shaking heap atop your desk. He came so hard his vision blacked out for a moment and he huffed heavy breaths until his body was no longer tensed from head to toe.

You eventually released the dildo from your grasp and let it fall to the floor, tracing your fingers over your wetness then to your clit. Even a faint touch sent a shock through you. You giggled but it came out as a shaky sigh.

"God, baby," Hamzah murmured, unraveling your panties from his dick and sitting up to pull his laptop closer. "You okay?"

"Hmm," you hummed in your state of euphoria. You attempted to stand straight but to no avail, gripping the sides of the desk as you nearly toppled over with another giggle. "'M fine."

"Fuck," Hamzah laughed quietly, feeling the effects of his own exhaustion. "That good?"

"Mhm," you moaned, nodding.

When you turned, you wobbled on your feet for a couple steps before falling to your knees in front of the bed. You brought your laptop to the edge and smiled, wiping a tear from your eye.

"So good."

Hamzah grinned, leaning against the wall as his breathing slowly returned to a normal pace. He was sticky and slightly sore, but he couldn't even begin to imagine what you were feeling in that moment.

"How do you do this for work?" he said, bemused. "I'm destroyed."

He reached up to run his fingers through his curls, but decided against it once he felt the moisture coated between them.

"I was thinking of you during the live."

You crossed your arms on the bed, resting your cheek on your forearm as you stared at his figure through the screen. He opened his mouth and closed it a couple times, failing to find his words. You giggled again, completely spent.

"Why are you so far?"

He knew there was no real answer to his question, but he couldn't help but wonder out loud. How was it that the girl of his dreams was so out of his reach? Did he do something in a past life to deserve this fate? The longer he thought about it, the worse he felt.

"Maybe it's for the best," you offered, eyes closed. "Maybe you'd get sick of me IRL."

He contemplated the sentiment for a moment. No, there's no way. He could never get sick of your sweet voice; surely it'd be impossible.

"First of all, 'IRL'? Really?" he teased. "And who knows. Maybe I could fly you out."

"Don't be silly," you yawned, sitting back on your haunches to stretch.

"Fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "I already paid for your panties. What makes you think I wouldn't pay for the ticket to get the rest of you here?"

"Ridiculous."

You just couldn't make sense of it. A boy flying you out while knowing close to nothing about you. Sure, you made each other feel good, but there's a big difference between seeing someone for an hour or two weekly and seeing them everyday with no where else to go. Such an absolute scared you. Besides, a girl like you would never dare to have such big dreams of a fairytale ending.

"My offer still stands." Hamzah crossed his arms.

"What is it with you and your offers?"

"Never hurt before."

He grabbed the panties from beside him and held it up to the camera like it was evidence of his claim. The two of you laughed at the white stains that now adorned it.

"You're disgusting."

"You love it."

You shook your head, not even refuting his words. You couldn't ignore the jolt that surged through your heart.

"Really, you should consider it," he said with a shrug.

"No promises," you said. "Goodnight, angel."

You subsequently signed off, leaving Hamzah with a longing in his chest that kept him up that night and invaded his dreams when he managed to drift off in the early hours of the morning.

~

a/n: if u ask for part 3 i may just scream. idk i kinda like having them yearn for each other. thoughts? feelings? concerns? hate? leave it in the replies!

[saphiccarma]

- Sweet Thing Pt.4

pt.3

Relationships - Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary - You do your best to hold out, to not give away the secret of your home to the new pirates that captured you. Just when you think you're about to give up, your pirates in shining armor arrive to save you

Warnings: descriptions of torture

A/N: Sorry it's a lil' bit short. BUT GUYS when I say that i have spiraled into a whole siren lore and is now completely unrelated to this story...oops

Chains held your arms up, the cold metal digging into your skin harshly and holding you in place. Your knees were sore from how long you had been kneeling on the wooden floor, skin raw and sensitive to the touch. Sweat made your hair stick to your face, and you wanted to wipe it away, but your hands were held in place.

Somehow, these people knew you were a siren. They wanted to know where the rest of your kind was. Your neck ached from where it dangled, falling to rest against your chest. Agatha's shirt was soaked through with sweat and blood, tears on the back of it from how hard they had hit you with the whip. Withholding information led to pain, a biting one that slowly withered down your defenses. You almost told them what they wanted to know, or some form of lie to make it stop.

The door creaked open, wood grating and wood, and your eyes remained shut as you braced for pain. Somone crouched in front of you, a gruff hand tilting your chin up, digging into the bruises and small cuts. You winced but didn't have the energy to flinch away or even try and fight back. Any strength you had was gone. The hand squeezed your cheeks, forcing your mouth open and that caused your eyes to flutter open slowly, your swollen cheek slightly obscuring your vision.

This was your least favorite man. Which at first might seem odd. He looked like the kindest of all the crew. Even with his bulky posture, he kept his lips always curled into a fond smile and his beard made him look almost father-like. He had a tendency to speak softly, deceptively, luring you into a false sense of security. Along with that his blue eyes always shone with compassion, but it was false.

He often came to you after a long session of pain, gently clearing away your blood in a way that was almost caring, or maybe sympathetic. At first you thought he was just trying to be kind, but after he cleaned you up, he would ask you questions. You almost always answered them, seeing as they started off innocent enough before having deeper meanings that you couldn't answer. He told you his name was Henry, and he would repeat his ask, keeping his voice controlled and careful. It was foolish of you to think he actually meant well. If you failed to answer any of his questions it would result in him socking you in the face, his large fist slamming your head to the side and making your nose bleed, mixing with your tears.

The process repeated over and over again. Sometimes he brought food, water, giving you a sip or a bite, then holding it just out of reach. The only way you got it was through answering his questions. And slowly, he chipped away at your defenses, dwindling your mental walls down until you were a jumbled mess.

Henry tapped your bruised cheek with his large thumb, "C'mon, it's time to get up."

You took a moment to process his words, and by the time you had your hands had fallen down to your sides, free from your restraints. Without the chains holding you up, the cold cuffs clamping down on your wrists, you slummed further into the floor. Your shoulders ached from being strained for such a long time, and you sighed in slight relief at the brief pause in pain. That pause didn't last long before you were hauled up, Henry's hand firmly clasped around your forearm, and he was dragging you away.

You stumbled, your legs unsteady and weak, but Henry didn't care. He forced you through the ship, leading you further in. It was only a moment before he paused, slammed you against the wall, and ordered for you to stay. Even if you wanted to, you had no energy to fight his command. Giving you a pointed look that promised pain, Henry crouched, fingers digging into the floorboard. He pried it up, the wood splintering and snapping slightly, but it revealed a small compartment.

It wasn't large by any means, although it looked long, but it was rather short. Your breath caught in your throat when Henry took a hold of you again, his hand cupping the back of your neck, before shoving you towards it. For the briefest of moments, you had some energy to fight, unwilling to be shoved into the tiny area. But you were tired, all your energy was sapped, and you were skinnier than usual, and Henry was a healthy, full grown man. It was no use.

Your legs scraped against the floor as you were slid into the slot like some tool, the walls squeezing your arms tight and your feet pressing against the other end. It was suffocating and your panicked scream was muffled by Henry slamming the floorboard back into place. Wiggling slightly, you were able to pound your hands up against your cage, but it did nothing. Your voice was raw, too sore to scream, even as you tried. Your feet kicked with what minimal space you had, and your hands beat the wood until they were aching even more.

And when you finally stopped, your breath coming in ragged and short gasps, you recognized the sound of pounding footsteps above deck, eerily similar to the day you were taken from Agatha's ship, and orders being shouted out. Anxiety bubbled in your chest, mingling with the fear that coursed through your veins. Your heart thundered in your ears, louder than the thunderstorms you cowered from as a child, and that was one of the only things you could focus on. That and your rapid breathing, so apparent in the small space.

You listened to the sounds above deck, stomach swirling with anticipation as you waited, chest rising and falling rapidly. The wooden floor dug harshly into your back, burning against the cuts that littered your skin and irritating them. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you whine as your back is alight with pain, keeping you on high alert. It felt like forever before you heard footsteps directly above you, and you forced your arms to hit against the wood again, hoping to be let out.

There was a small shuffling above you, muffled voices, before the wood was pried back and you could breathe again. But then you caught sight of who was standing above you and your breath vanished again. Rio's brown eyes stared down at you, her head tilted in concern. She reached down, pausing when you flinched.

"You're not real," you whispered, but still you climbed out of the compartment, shuffling until your back was pressed against the wall, "You're not real." You shook your head, eyes squeezing shut as you tangled your hands into your hair.

Fake-Rio exhaled softly, and you could hear her move some more, shifting closer to you. She had to be fake. There was no way in any universe that they could have found you, or that they would have wanted to find you. You were a plaything for them, a toy, not someone that had any use. You had to be delusional, just hallucinating her as a way to cope with the pain. Your entire body shook as you curled tightly in on yourself, pressing against the wall as a form of support, and tugging on your hair.

Slowly, you rocked back and forth, begging your mind to return to reality. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, especially when Rio wasn't actually her. Fake-Rio's hand landed on your arm, her touch the most gentle than it had ever been, and you flinched away.

"Hey," she said softly, "Look at me." When you whine and shake your head, Fake-Rio's hand moves to grasp your chin, forcing your head up, "Look at me." Her words are repeated, firm, and you meet her eyes. They are shining with the same layer of mischief you have grown used to, and as much as you loathe to admit it, you missed. But above that was a shimmer of concern, one that was so uniquely Rio. Everything about her screamed that she was real. From the confident tilt to her shoulders, the slight tug at her lips, to her brown hair.

"Rio?" you croak, your voice quiet and trembling in the narrow corridor. The woman nods, a small smile tugging at her lips, and that's all you need to launch yourself into your arms. It's a brief moment before she returns your desperate hug, and you hardly care for the way your back burns anymore. Tears stream down your face and sobs rack your body, "You're real." You repeat the words over and over. Your entire body shakes in Rio's grasp, completely tuned out from the world around you.

You don't budge from your position when Rio stands, taking you with her and carrying you like a child. Legs wrapping around her waist, you keep your arms slung around her neck and face buried into her shoulder bone, snot and tears soaking her shirt. Her arms held you steadily, marching up the steps to above deck, and she waltzed through the chaos that was happening. Agatha had killed several people, her brutality shining through clearly, and the rest of the crew had helped.

Ignoring the pure bloodshed around her, Rio's walks the plank onto her ship, shouting something you hardly heard. You were carried all the way down below deck, and panic spiked within you again. You struggled, scared to be trapped once more, but Rio gently shushed you, her voice kind and reassuring. You just barely registered footsteps above deck once more, and the felt the ship spur into motion, sailing across the sea. Rio kicked open and door and you could smell the familiar scent of the bedroom.

She placed you down on your bed, untangling you from your tight grip around her. You whimper, reaching for her, but Rio bats your hands away. Tears well in your eyes, and for a moment, she looks panicked, but as always, Agatha comes to the rescue. Your eyes snap to her and you try to scramble off the bed and get to her. Key word: try. As soon as you are standing, your legs collapse beneath you and fall to the floor with a loud thump and a cry of pain. Agatha can’t help but smile at your eagerness to see her, but her smile is tinted with a dark edge, a clear sign of her corruption that was slowly ebbing away at your heart.

Scoffing, Agatha reaches down, hauling you back into the bed, although her touch is more gentle than usual. She props you up against the wall, taking in your face before brushing away the stray hairs that still clung to your dirty skin.

"Hi, sweet girl," she says softly, her fingers trailing down your face and along the series of bruises and cuts, "Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

Her hands dig into the pouch to bring out the cloth. The clean-up process is slow, intimate, and clear. Agatha makes sure to get every inch of your skin, stripping you from her oversized shirt that was now soaked in blood and sweat, stinking heavily, and tossing it to the side. It lands on the floor with a wet plop. While Agatha cleans all the cuts, getting all the dirt, grime, and dried blood out, Rio gently untangles the mess that is your hair. It's messier than it's ever been, ruined by how many times it had been grabbed and yanked backwards, but Rio is patient and kind as she undoes it all. Her fingers work with deliberate care.

And as they clean you up, taking care to treat every single one of your injuries, you stare blankly off into the distance. They ask you questions as they work, trying to bring you back to the land of the living, but you are too absorbed in your own head to take in what they are saying. Memories of the past few days flash in your mind, over and over, and you can hardly believe that you are safe again. Subconsciously, your leg bounces nervously, a steady beat to keep you somewhat present, despite your severe exhaustion.

At some point Billy knocks on the door, peeking his head in. He yelps at the sight of you naked, quickly shutting his eyes. Normally you would've smiled at his reaction, maybe even laughed, but you do neither of those. Instead, you continue to stare blankly at the wall, blinking in slow, long, pauses.

He clears his throat, "Uh, Lillia made some soup that she sent me with," he mumbled, but his eyes remain closed as he reaches a shaky hand through the door, "Here."

Agatha takes hold of the bowl, nodding at Billy to dismiss him, and he slammed the door shut a bit louder than necessary. Both women rolled their eyes as Agatha passes the soup to Rio. The younger woman, cups in in both hands, gently blowing on the side of your face in an attempt to get your attention.

"Sweet girl," she whispers, hoping the term of endearment will get you to focus, "Let's get some food in you."

On queue your stomach rumbles harshly, a clear sign of your hunger, but your eyes never move from their spot on the wall. Your breathing remains steady, but they can both see the silent panic swirling within your eyes as your chest rises and falls.

Agatha presses harshly down on a bruise, and you yelp, glaring at her. She gives you nothing but a sly smirk in return, "Have some food."

You glance at the bowl, lips pressing into a firm line, and despite your deep hunger, you shake your head.

"Not hungry," you mumble, fixing your gaze back on the wall. Agatha huffs, annoyed, and is ready to get your attention again before Rio shakes her head. Sighing, Agatha resumes cleaning you up while Rio shoots her shot.

She taps the side of your cheek softly, taking care to be gentle, "Just one bite please?" Slowly, Rio brings the spoon up to your lips, holding it there patiently while she waits for you to do something. It takes a moment, but you open your lips hesitantly and Rio tips the soup into your mouth. That's all it takes for you to snatch the bowl away from her, unaware of the triumphant glance she trades with Agatha, and down the food in a just a minute.

Your hands shake around the bowl after it is emptied, and it clatters to the floor. You wince at the noise.

"Sorry," your words are hardly audible, but neither women care, both just glad you ate something. Rio smiles softly, her hands cupping your face in the most caring way possible, and she turns you towards her.

"I am glad you are safe," she whispers, pulling you close, before planting a soft, gentle kiss to your lips. You melt into her touch, arms grabbing at her shoulders.

And you thought they were your saviors in that moment, but little did you know that this was just the start of their corruption.

Taglist: @vigilante24ish

[igotanidea]

(6) Cheater: Dick Grayson x reader

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

A/N: I'm damn aware it took me ages, I;m sorry! But - as many people asked for it (@pookieisme4life :D) and I DID HEAR YOU ALL, I hereby give you the preludium to the finale!! :D

MDNI!

TW: mention of self-harm/suicidal thoughts, brief description of rough s*x, bit of violence, swearing

***

FUCK!!

She felt like yelling, screaming, falling to the ground, tearing her eyes out, cutting her wrists, anything to get rid of this heavy feeling in her chest.

SO FUCKING STUPID

Falling into the same pattern of behavior as many more before her and – most probably – many more after her.

She should have known better.

No man in relationship ever leaves the girl for a lover

NO MAN.

EVER.

And yet she thought that him… that Dick… that he would be different.

She thought-

STUPID IDIOTIC IDIOT WITH STUPID UNREALISTIC BELIEFS.

Damn, it sucks to be a woman sometimes.

She hated herself.

Not only because of this stupid dickish Dick Grayson, but also because she acted like a piece of shit towards another girl.

Crossing out every single value she ever held dear to her heart.

Idiot.

***

“So, did you have fun?”

“Sienna-“

“Was she fucking better?!”

“Sienna, honey-“

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you fucking dare calling me honey, right now!” she lunged at him, trying to slap his cheek, scratch his oh-so-fucking-stupid-pretty-face. To hurt him in any way possible, that could never ever measure the amount of pain she was feeling. Too bad Dick could easily predict her every move and block it with zero effort.

“Just listen to me-“ he grabbed both her wrist and held it to his heart. He should have known that her initial reaction that was almost shockingly calm would turn into a blind rage sooner or later.

Clearly sooner.

“You are –“

“A liar, a cheater and unworthy of your attention.”

“That’s not even close to truth.” Sienna struggled against him.

“What can I do to make it better?” – despite letting go off all the pretenses and running after the girl that really mattered to him?

“Nothing. We’re done here.” Finally she managed to wriggle free, walking towards the wardrobe and started throwing his clothes out.

“Don’t say that-“

“I will say whatever the fuck I want right now!” jackets, shirts, pants and even socks flew In every single direction in the room.

“Stop it- Sienna- Come on- “ he grabbed his favorite piece of clothing before it landed on the ground – “Come on-! Sienna! Stop it-!” before she realized what was happening, he was holding her waist, pressing her against the wall.

The tension in the room were tense enough to stop them from making any move, and yet, for a single moment he was way more scared than in any other life-threatening situation he encountered as Nightwing. She was angry. He saw it in her eyes. But there was also vulnerability and some sense of longing. Dick wasn’t exactly sure what this longing was for, but that look- that look of bambi Sienna put on her face made him act completely recklessly.

He kissed her.

No – not just kissed, that would be a heavy understatement.

He consumed her.

That masculine energy and confidence he was always sporting, took a very surprising form of dominance.

His lips moved with hunger, forcing her to submission, shutting down any objections she might have had, causing her body to respond out of pure instincts, moaning and melting into his arms.

Clothes flew around the room again, but this time for much different – arguably more pleasurable reasons.

He fucked her hard and rough, ending with deep, red, bloody scratches on his back and leaving little dents in the wall due to the way the bedframe kept on hitting it.

And even as he became almost brutal, she never told him to stop. If anything – begged for more, pulling him closer, taking him deeper.

As if the pain he was giving and receiving could in any way make up for the fact that for the entire time they fucked he was seeing y/n’s face.

***

“You almost ruined the entire mission.”

He couldn’t even care much enough to respond.

“Nightwing.”

“Uh-huh….”

“Do you realize you could have compromised – “

“Yeah, whatever-“

“I shall not tolerate-“

Dick rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“You are being insubordinate. Do not try to act like your brother. Teenage rebellion doesn’t suit you.”

“Teenage rebellion? Huh! Funny you say it, B, because if anyone, you are acting like a spoiled 5 year old, who gets mad and pouty when someone does a step without his permission.”

“I don’t understand what is happening to you-“

“Of course you fucking don’t!” he finally yelled, spinning around angrily, ready to fight Batman. Instead, however, his eyes grew a little wider in sudden realization. He was not a fucking pawn. He was not a fucking piece of a puzzle Bruce was trying to form to his own liking. (bright discovery for a man his age if you allow me to be a “tad” sarcastic). With that realization he jumped out of the ledge of a building like a acrobat he was and rushed to her apartment.

“NIGHTWING!”

“FUCK YOU BATMAN!”

He was still broken-hearted but for some silly reason, yelling those words into the night, illuminated by Batman’s symbol adjourning the sky like a beacon of hope felt exhilarating. Damn, next thing he knew, he could be joining Jason in his little vendetta against Bruce. How fun would it be? Two brothers, joined by circumstances and similar history, trying to get justice for-

Focus.

“Right, right, focus…” he muttered to himself. “Y/N.”

No matter what, he was going to make things right between them.  

***

Where the hell could she be at 3 am?!

Partying? Not her.

Getting drunk at the bar with guys all over her? Not for long, once he beat them all to shit.

Staying at friend’s? Maybe, but then why was her phone on the nightstand, flickering with unread notifications from a few hours ago?

“Y/N?!” he cried out into the silence of the apartment, hoping against hope that she’d answer.

She was not in the bedroom, bathroom or in the living room.

“LET GO!!”

Oh, so there she was-

Outside.

Clearly in danger.

Dick rushed to the balcony to asses the situation, but before he could do anything, she was knocked down and dragged into a car.

“Y/N!!!” he yelled desperately, but it was no use as the black SUV (the fuck it always had to be black SUVs) took off with a squeal of tires, raising a cloud of dust.

“FUCK!”

There was not much he could do at the moment.

“Come with me.”

 “Huh!”

“Jeez. Chill out, Blue.” a masked persona that appeared out of nowhere, scoffed at him, easily holding back the punch Dick aimed with his escrima sticks.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I know where they took her.”

“huh?”

“your girlfriend.”

“She’s not- well she is, but technically-“

“Focus, idiot!” the person smacked his head. Not hard enough to cause any real damage, but hard enough to made him come back to reality.

Reality in which Y/N was straightforward kidnapped.

“how do you know—”

“I just know. And now I’m your best shot at getting her back in one piece.”

“And how do I know I can trust you?”

“Trust? Ha! God forbid you’d be so foolish to trust me.”

Dick scoffed.

“Where did they take her?”

“Just follow me.”

And just like that, he followed a stranger into danger.

And despite it sounding pretty lightly due to the rhyming, this self-appointed mission was about to change the lives of not one, not two, but a whole group of people.

And maybe – just maybe – some of them – would end up irreversibly changed.

Last part will be the grand finale!!

@miraculous-panic @fullbelieverheart @xlatinaaxx @ietss @arfrona

@gracescor3 @jaysgirlx @fuzzym4m4 @peachmartini @xenop0p

@leovergurl

[rhiannonsknife]

— BUT I’M A CHEERLEADER (part 1)

— summary: you’re still getting over your past situationship when you meet nat scatorccio.

— warnings: drinking/alcohol. implied period typical homophobia. based on this request.

the music pounds through the walls of the house, every beat rattling through your skull and adding to the dizziness you’re already feeling. you’re perched on the edge of the bathtub, clutching a half-empty red cup you’ve forgotten about. the drink has long since lost its taste, and the buzz you’d been riding earlier is wearing off in the worst possible way.

tears fall, slow and relentless, even as you try to force them back. it’s pathetic, you know it is as you look at the mascara smeared face that greets you in the reflection of the mirror ahead.

none of this was supposed to happen. you weren’t supposed to end up here, locked in a bathroom at some stupid party, crying over someone who never cared enough to give you what you wanted. the same old story. you saw it coming, but that doesn’t make it hurt less. it doesn’t make the loneliness any easier to bear.

you run a shaky hand through your hair and wipe at your burning eyes, the red cup slipping slightly as you press it between your palms. it was supposed to be different this time, not feel like the same heartbreak you’ve lived through so many times before. she was different. or at least, you thought she was. that’s what you kept telling yourself while you fell for the girl who promised she was ready to be with you, who made all the right moves, said all the right things.

but when it came down to it, she couldn’t even look you in the eye as you tried to talk about it a couple of weeks ago. all she could do was calling things ‘complicated’ and saying that maybe she wasn’t ready for something real. no apology. no real excuse. and now here she is at the same party, dancing with some guy in a way she never would have with you, leaving you no choice but to watch from across the room.

the bathroom door creaks open suddenly, and you quickly wipe at your face, trying to compose yourself. the last thing you need is for somebody to walk in on one of the cheerleaders looking like this. but it’s too late.

“occupied,” you mumble.

“yeah, no shit,” a dry voice responds

you look up, surprised to see one of the yellowjackets standing against the doorframe. you know her, obviously, if only from a distance, from watching games from the sidelines after performing: natalie scatorccio. she’s the one with the shaggy, bleach blonde hair and that perpetually bored look in her eyes, the one who always wears vintage band tees and a leather jacket if she’s not in her soccer jersey number 7.

“sorry,” you mumble, trying to sound like you’re not completely falling apart. “i’ll leave,”

natalie doesn’t move. she crosses her arms and leans against the wall, her smirk softening. “relax,” she says. “not like i’m dying to hang out with the drunk assholes out there.”

you blink at her, caught off guard. “then why are you here?”

she shrugs, stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. “needed a break. but you-“ her eyes flick to your tear-streaked cheeks. “-are you okay?”

“do i look okay?” you snap, voice wobbling.

natalie raises her hands in mock surrender. “fair enough. want to talk about it, or should i leave you to…whatever this is?”

you hesitate, staring down at your cup. she’s a stranger, but something about her feels steady, like she’s not here to judge or pry. before you know it, the words are tumbling out.

“i hooked up with someone. someone i really liked. and they…didn’t feel the same way,”

natalie hums, leaning back against the counter. “cheerleader, right?”

“uh, yeah. how’d you know?”

her grin is small, knowing. “lucky guess,” she gestures vaguely toward your perfect ponytail, the neatly pressed outfit you're wearing (or what's left of it after the night's events). "also, your whole squad has that...same vibe, you know?"

“a vibe?” you echo, frowning.

“you know.” she shrugs. “acting like you’ve got it all together, even when you’re crying in a bathroom…”

you bristle slightly. “well, clearly, i don’t,”

“clearly,” she says, with a smirk that’s just shy of teasing. then, more seriously: “so, what happened?”

you hesitate, then sigh. “i thought we had something. but they didn’t see it that way. basically said i was imagining things!”

natalie tilts her head. “cheerleader too?”

her tone is careful, and the question catches you off guard, though you don't bother denying it. with the amount of cheap liquor you've had, there’s no point in trying to lie. besides, she doesn't strike you as the type to judge, considering the fact that she was the one to bring it up.

“yeah,”

she lets out a dry laugh, shaking her head. “figures. you guys are always so tangled up together,”

you glance up at her, defensive. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it’s just…” she shrugs. “predictable. all sunshine and pom-poms until someone gets stabbed in the back!”

“not all of us are like that,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“oh, yeah?” she quirks an eyebrow. “then why are you in here crying?”

her bluntness stings, but it cuts through the fog in your head. at least she's not sugarcoating things just to make you feel better. you exhale sharply, and before you can stop yourself, you’re speaking again. “because i thought she actually cared. i thought…” you trail off, shaking your head.

natalie’s expression shifts slightly, something softer slipping through as she shoves her hands into her pockets. “people suck,” she says simply.

you laugh weakly, despite yourself. “yeah. they really do!”

the room falls into silence again, but it’s not uncomfortable. you feel lighter, somehow, like just talking to her has already taken some of the weight off your chest. for the first time tonight, you feel like you can breathe again.

natalie shifts, standing upright and jerking her chin toward the door. “c’mon. this party fucking sucks anyway. let’s get out of here!”

you hesitate, glancing toward the door. “what, you’re just gonna leave?”

she shrugs, her hands still tucked in her pockets. “what’s the point of staying? and let me guess: you’re not exactly dying to run into her again tonight either?”

your stomach twists at the thought, and you shake your head. “no. definitely not!”

“exactly,” natalie says, stepping away from the wall. “so let’s bail. the night’s already shitty, might as well make it less shitty!”

“you want me to come with you?”

she smirks faintly. “you want to stay here crying in the bathroom?”

you let out a soft laugh despite yourself. “alright, fair point”

natalie gestures toward the door. “come on. i know a spot. it’s better than this place, anyway,”

‘better than this place’ isn’t exactly a high bar, but something about the way she says it makes you trust her. you nod, leaving your cup on the counter. “alright. lead the way!”

natalie doesn’t say anything else, just pushes open the bathroom door and leads you through the party. the noise and chaos feel even more overwhelming after the relative quiet, but she moves through it carelessly. you follow her out to the driveway, where her beat-up car sits under a flickering streetlight.

“get in” she says, jerking her head towards the passenger side.

you hesitate for a moment before climbing in. the interior is as unpolished as you’d expect, the faint smell of cigarette smoke lingering in the air. natalie slides into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut and cranking the engine to life.

“where are we going?” you ask as she starts driving off.

“somewhere quiet,” she says simply, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

fifteen minutes later, you’re parked at a deserted overlook just outside town. only there, natalie cuts the ignition and leans back, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her jacket.

“want one?” she asks, holding it out to you.

you shake your head. “not my thing”

“suit yourself.” natalie lights one up, the orange glow illuminating her face in the otherwise dark space. for a while, neither of you says anything, the silence surprisingly comfortable.

“so,” natalie starts, breaking the quiet. “you really liked this girl, huh?”

you sigh, leaning your head back against the seat. “yeah. i thought…i don’t know, i thought we had something!”

“maybe she’s just an idiot,” she offers, her voice dry though not unkind. “her loss, right?”

you glance at her, watching the way her face lights up from the faint glow of her cigarette. “what about you, natalie? ever had…dunno, someone break your heart?”

she winces playfully at the name. “natalie? god, no one calls me that. it’s just nat!”

“nat,” you repeat. “alright, nat, what about you then?

she exhales a stream of smoke, her gaze fixed on the horizon through the window shield. “not really,” she says after a pause. “i’ve had my fair share of bullshit. people thinking they can get close, but only on their terms,”

“that sounds…” you trail off, searching for the right word.

“exhausting?” nat supplies, flicking ash out the window. “yeah, it is.”

familiar, is what you were going for, but you suppose ‘exhausting’ will do. you study her for a moment, the sharp angles of her face in the dimly lit space. “you’re not what i expected, you know?”

nat glances sideways at you. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

you shrug, leaning back against the headrest. “i don’t know. i see you at school sometimes…and with the whole soccer thing, i guess i just figured you’d be different,”

“different how?” she presses, curiosity piqued.

“i don’t know,” you hesitate, searching for the right words. “the team’s such a big deal. everyone’s always talking about the yellowjackets since you guys won nationals,”

nat lets out a dry laugh, taking another drag of her cigarette.

“trust me, we’re just a bunch of idiots kicking a ball around. nothing special”

“you’re good, though,” you counter. “regionals last year? that goal you scored? pretty badass!”

“you were there?”

“i’m a cheerleader, remember? i’m at all the games. you don’t really notice us, though, do you?”

“not my thing,” she says with a grimace. “but, uh, thanks. i guess,”

the conversation continues, ebbing and flowing with surprising ease. turns out that nat scatorccio is not at all how you had expected her to be.

eventually, as she runs out of cigarettes to smoke, the cold starts to seep in, and you shiver. nat notices, shrugging off her leather jacket and holding it out to you.

“here,” she says. “you’re gonna freeze to death!”

you blink at her, surprised. a part of you wants to argue, but the goosebumps on your arms speak volumes. “are you sure? won’t you be cold?”

“i’ll survive,” she says, rolling her eyes. “just take it!”

you do, slipping it on quickly. it’s oversized on you, the sleeves hanging past your hands, and smells faintly of smoke. it’s warm, at least, and you murmur “thanks” as your finger clutch at the fabric.

“don’t mention it,” she replies, stubbing out her cigarette. “c’mon, let’s get you home before someone calls the cops on me for kidnapping a cheerleader”

you laugh, the tension easing from your chest as she starts the car and pulls back onto the road, letting you navigate the route to your house.

the drive is quieter this time, the party and all your earlier heartbreak feeling strangely far away. nat drums her fingers on the steering wheel in time with a song playing faintly on the radio.

when she stops in front of your house, you hesitate for a moment before opening the door. “thanks for tonight,” you say, your voice softer than you mean it to be.

she shrugs, her gaze flicking toward you. “don’t overthink it, alright? i just…didn’t want you crying in some gross bathroom all night,”

“well, i appreciate it. see you around?”

“maybe,” she says, a half-smile on her face as you climb out of the car and close the door behind you.

you stand on your front porch for a long moment, watching her tail lights disappear into the night. only then, when theres only the pitch black darkness of the street left ahead of you and nat’s car is long gone, you make your way inside.

it isn’t until you’re curled up in the comfort bed that you notice it: nat’s leather jacket is still wrapped snugly around your shoulders. you hadn’t even thought to take it off, too distracted by the events of the night. now, as you bury your face into the worn leather, you can’t help but smile as you inhale what is a mixture of the scent of her cologne and cigarettes.

the thought makes you grin despite yourself, and you let the warmth of the jacket lull you to sleep, unbothered by the fact that you’re still in a full face of makeup and the clothes you wore to the party.

somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re already thinking about how to return it, though the idea of seeing her again doesn’t feel like a chore at all.

the gym is still buzzing with energy, the echoes of the rally lingering in the air. you're perched on the bleachers, fiddling with the hem of your cheer skirt as the crowd begins to disperse.

the yellowjackets are clustered near the far corner, laughing and shoving at each other while coach martinez barks something about practice tomorrow that you can understand clearly even from a distance and amongst the giggles of the other cheerleaders.

your eyes, however, are locked on one player only.

she's leaning against the wall, arms crossed, her signature smirk firmly in place as she banters with lottie. she doesn't seem to notice you staring. if she does, she doesn't let on. her hair is messy, sweaty strands sticking to her neck, and there's a small smear of dirt on her cheek that she clearly doesn't care enough about to wipe away.

the ache in your chest is as confusing as it is frustrating. you're not supposed to feel this way about her, of all people. not after how your recent situationship ended. you'd made the stubborn promise to yourself hat you would not end up falling for another girl in the foreseeable future. and yet, here you are, watching nat scatorccio from afar.

"hey"

the voice beside you makes you jump, and you whip around to find her -the girl you'd been seeing, or whatever you'd been doing-hovering uncertainly at your side. only yesterday, the sight would've made your heart ache. now, it just annoys you that she's interrupted your people (nat) watching.

"uh, hi," you mumble, glancing back at nat almost instinctively. the girl notices, following your gaze. "since when do you care about soccer?"

"what? i don't, i wasn't-" you cut yourself off, realizing how pointless it is to lie. "i was just…..zoning out,"

"sure," she says, her tone clipped. she shifts awkwardly, crossing her arms. "look, about the other night-"

whatever she's saying is drowned out by your own thoughts: nat's laughing at something van said, her smile wide and unrestrained. it's different from the smirk she usually wears. it's softer, more real somehow, and your heart stumbles stupidly in your chest.

"are you even listening to me?" she suddenly asks sharply, pulling your attention back to your side of the gym.

you blink, caught off guard. "sorry, what?"

she rolls her eyes, clearly exasperated. "forget it. i just thought we should talk about...whatever this is. or was!"

you don't want to talk, especially not to her. she's made her stance clear. still, you offer: "yeah, no, you're right. we should. just... maybe later?"

she scoffs, throwing up her hands. "whatever. good talk!" you don't even have the energy to stop her as she stalks off, the sound of her sneakers echoing sharply in the nearly empty gym. your gaze drifts back to nat, then, and you catch her glancing your way. your breath catches, the conversation instantly forgotten, but she looks away before you can tell whether she actually noticed you, or if it was just wishful thinking.

even the school parking lot is alive with post-rally energy by the time you and the rest of the cheer squad has made it out of the locker rooms and you're no longer in the tight outfit.

the yellowjackets are lounging around their cars, hard to miss when they're still in their jerseys. you spot nat leaning against her car, a bright yellow number 7 on her chest and a cigarette dangling lazily between her fingers. she's clearly disinterested in whatever story misty is animatedly telling beside her.

your heart thuds uncomfortably as you approach, clutching the leather jacket in your hands. the nerves aren't new, you've felt them every time you've seen her since that night, but this time, it's worse: she's with her teammates, and they're all staring at you the moment you come into view.

"hey," you call out, offering a small wave. "i, uh...i have something that's yours?"

nat's eyes narrow slightly before flicking to the jacket in your hands.

“oh my god, nat,” taissa teases, leaning casually against van's shoulder. "didn't know you were in the habit of lending your stuff to cheerleaders!"

she exhales a puff of smoke, side-eyeing tai. “shut up!”

you bite your lip, stepping closer. “here. thanks for letting me borrow it!” you hold out the jacket, trying to keep your voice steady with the whole team watching the exchange.

nat takes another drag from her cigarette, letting the silence hang for just a beat too long, before, finally, taking the jacket from your hands. “no problem,”

van raises an eyebrow, smirking the exact same way taissa is.

“well, this is new. didn't know you two were friends...?”

“we're not,” nat says quickly, her tone defensive. you glance at her, the sting of her words hitting sharper than you expect.

“but she's nice,” misty chimes in, clearly delighted by the interaction. “and really good at flips! i saw you at the rally. you did that back handspring thing-“

“misty, not now,” lottie interrupts, shaking her head.

“anyway,” you say, forcing a smile despite the awkward tension.

“thanks again, nat. and...see you around…?”

nat shrugs on the jacket. “thanks, i guess,” she mutters, not meeting your eyes.

“uh, no,” you say, catching her off guard. “i'm thanking you. for, you know...saving my ass the other night...?”

nat quirks a brow at you, clearly unimpressed. “right. well, you already said that. so, we're good!” she shifts on her feet, clearly itching to leave. “see you around, cheerleader!”

and with that, she's gone, her boots scuffing against the asphalt as she falls into step with taissa and van.

turns out you do see nat around, more often than she seems to like.

the first time you spot her in the halls, it's almost comical how badly you fail at playing it cool. nat's leaning against a locker, her bag slung carelessly over one shoulder, chatting with somebody you don't recognize. you walk past and try to keep your head down, but you can't resist glancing over at the last second.

unfortunately, nat very much notices: she smirks, raising an eyebrow in what you can only assume is amusement at your awkwardness. “hey, cheerleader,” she calls, her voice echoing in the hall.

“uh, hi!” you manage, voice coming out brighter than intended. the person by her side snickers, but nat doesn't say anything else, and you slink away, your face burning.

the second time, you're determined to do better.

you catch her near the parking lot, hanging around with a group of guys you've never seen around before. she's got a bottle in a paper bag, her posture lazy and self-assured, and for a moment, you stop in your tracks, hesitant. but then you remember her kindness at the party, and you square your shoulders. the least you can do is thank her properly.

“hey, natalie,” you call as you approach, and she glances over, her expression one of confusion before recognition flashes over her features.

“it's nat,” she corrects automatically, taking a swig from the bottle.

“what do you want?”

you dig into your pocket and pull out the scrap of paper, you'd prepared in class, holding it out to her. “here!”

she takes it, frowning. “what's this?”

“my number,” you say, surprising even yourself with how steady your voice is.

nat snorts. “yeah, no thanks. not really my thing.”

“no, not like that!” you insist quickly, though your face warms. “it's just...if you ever want to talk, or hang out, or whatever. i still owe you for that night, remember?”

her eyes narrow as she studies you, and for a moment, you're sure she's going to crumple the paper and toss it. but instead, she tucks it into her jacket pocket with a shrug. you consider it a small win when you leave her to it.

the third time you try your luck with nat, it's after school. nat's sitting on the steps outside, looking a little less put-together than usual: her hair's messier, her leather jacket slightly crinkled, and she's perched on the edge of a concrete step, surrounded by a few other yellowjackets.

you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot, wondering if you should just let it go for today. but then you remember the way she looked at you the first time you crossed paths after the party, how her gaze softened just a little and how willing to hold nat had been, and it pushes you forward.

you walk up to her, purposefully ignoring the eyes of the other yellowjackets, but determined to try anyway.

“hey,” you say, a little unsure.

nat looks up at you then, her eyes calculating as she takes in your approach. for a moment, she doesn't say anything, just watching you with a furrowed brow. you can feel the familiar rush of nerves, but you push through it anyway.

“do you have a minute?” you ask, trying to sound casual. her lips twitch in what might be the beginning of a smirk, but she doesn't move. “no cheerleading practice today?”

you blink in surprise until you remember: she knows. of course she knows. everyone knows. it's hard to miss you bouncing around in that uniform, especially when you're standing next to your teammates, who always make a point of making everything so damn loud.

“no, not today,” you reply, glancing down at your shoes. “i...thought i'd take a break. come see what you're up to...?”

she doesn't immediately respond, but her eyes flick to the group of yellowjackets gathered around her, clearly sensing that they're all watching in anticipation. nat takes a long drag from her cigarette before replying in her usual dry tone. “why are you here, cheerleader? got another number for me to ignore?”

you almost laugh: the way she says it isn't cruel or mean, but teasing instead.

“no,” you say, shaking your head. “just wanted to check in. i haven't really heard from you since that night. thought i’d see if you were still alive!” nat doesn't seem fazed by the comment. she just exhales a puff of smoke before she replies: “i'm fine,”

you bite your lip but continue, “so you're not mad at me for, you know, giving you my number? for-“

“i'm not mad,” nat interjects. “just don't expect me to be...all friendly, alright?”

you feel a flash of disappointment, but try not to show it. instead, you nod, aiming for a smile but landing more on an awkward grimace. “fair enough. just thought i'd try, you know?”

for a moment, nat just looks at you, her expression unreadable. you're about to turn away, thinking you've pushed too much, when she suddenly speaks again. “you're persistent, i'll give you that,”

you turn back, blinking in surprise.

“maybe it's because i don't like giving up," you reply, your heart skipping a beat. "i really do owe you for what happened that night.”

she shrugs, the motion almost lazy. “you don't have to keep thanking me,”

“i know” you tell her. “but if you ever want to grab a coffee or something, i mean..i'll be around”

just when you think she's going to dismiss you again, she looks over at the group, making sure they're not listening, then back at you. “i'll think about it, cheerleader,” nat says, her voice softer than usual. “but if we do this, i get to decide where we go. deal?”

you blink, surprised by her answer, but you can't hide the grin that spreads across your face. that's not a no. it's far from it, actually.

“deal,” you agree, heart racing in your chest hopefully.

“good,” she says, her lips curling slightly as she pats her pocket, where she must still keep the note with your number on it. “i’ll let you know when. don't go getting your hopes up, though!”

and with that, she turns back to the group, pulling the collar of her jacket up higher, but you catch the smallest smile before she does.

you're not sure if you've just secured somewhat of a date with nat scatorccio or if you're just being hopeful. either way you’re not ready to back down yet.

you don't hear back from nat right away. truthfully, you're not sure you ever will. then, three days later, just when you've pretty much given up on it, the telephone rings.

“hello?” you say, balancing the phone between your ear and shoulder as you set your homework aside.

“hey, cheerleader”

your heart practically jumps at the sound of nat's voice, low and almost reluctant, as though she's already second-guessing this decision

“nat?” you ask, sitting up straighter.

“yeah,” she replies, and you can practically hear her smirking through the phone. “i said i'd think about it, didn't i?”

a stupidly wide smile spreads across your face before you can stop it.

“you did. so, what's the verdict?”

there's a pause on the other end, and then: “tomorrow night. meet me at the bowling alley on main street, eight o'clock?”

“bowling?” you repeat, surprised.

“yeah, you know? shoes that look like fucking clown rejects, greasy fries, cheap drinks?” she pauses, and her voice takes on a teasing edge. “figured it'd be fun to see you totally suck at something for once!”

you laugh softly, shaking your head. “wow, thanks for the vote of confidence. are you any good?”

nat immediately snorts, and the sound is so sudden and genuine that it makes your grin widen. “hell no. i fucking suck. but they've got an arcade, so if we both bomb at bowling, at least there's that!”

“an arcade?”

“what, you don't think i could beat your ass at pinball?”

“oh i think i could destroy you at pinball, actually!” you laugh into the speaker

“big talk, cheerleader,” nat says, her smirk audible. “guess we'll see, huh?”

“guess we will,” you reply, still smiling.

there's a moment of silence before she speaks again, her tone quieter now. “see you tomorrow, then. don't flake!”

“i won't," you promise. “you better not either!”

nat scoffs lightly. “yeah, yeah. see you at eight!”

before you can respond, the line goes dead, leaving you with the telephone pressed to your ear, smiling like an idiot.

— a/n: happy new year everyone!! here’s the first part of my little nat series (masterlist) <3

[kinichval]

all at once, everything is different

he finds no meaning in celebrating the day of his birth (or creation), yet this year he finds himself whispering a wish — please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh he can recognize anywhere.

content. wanderer x rtawahist!fem!reader, wanderer is addressed as hat guy, reader can see aranara, not dating but clearly in love ykwim, one (1) kiss, hat guy hates his birthday, not-so-mean because his soft spot is showing lol, mediocre writing, slight angst if u squint. | 3.5k words

“hat guy, you have a visitor!”

the said man groans and shuts his eyes, displeased with the interruption. if ignoring the knocks were not enough to convey the message, then he will not be liable for his harsh tone over the unwanted company.

except, well, the visitor on the other side of the door happened to be his new friend — durin.

wait, what the fuck is he doing with nahida?

“hat guy!” the little dragon's enthusiasm explodes across the room. he quickly flies over to the indigo-haired scholar, taking a peek at the paperwork on his desk. “what are you doing?” his curiosity is rather adorable, though hat guy would not let that thought slip out his lips (and hopefully the dendro archon wouldn't attempt to read his mind).

“i'm working on a new thesis.” he simply responds, durin lets out an innocent ‘woah’ although he knows he doesn't fully grasp the concept. nahida giggles; the thesis proponent has been cooped up in this room for days, it's a given that scholarly papers and academic writing generally takes months before completion, but it's also clear to her that his response was merely an excuse.

“let's go out, hat guy!” durin initiates, flipping in the air as excitement rushes through his little body as he expects his first friend to agree — only to frown when hat guy scoffs, “i'm busy right now. let's plan another time.” hat guy hopes the compromise would convince his dragon friend to leave him alone and so will the dendro archon.

but no, both of them are determined to reign victorious against his convictions.

hat guy knew what day is it today, he sighs heavily, eager to stay put in his lair doing whatever academic duty there is just to avoid the light of day and utmostly reject the idea of celebration.

it's as if a simple greeting of ‘happy birthday’ bears no sense of something, it feels awkward to receive such words when he feels nothing about the beginning of his existence. was he supposed to say ‘thank you’ when in the first place it's an unsolicited message?

one of these days, he's sure to receive a smack on the back of his head if this attitude continues.

(he'll just protect his head then.)

(unless the prevailing lord of sumeru casts a more perilous punishment when he wears her patience thin.)

durin's crimson eyes dulls, the drop in his float and lowered head presents his broken heart, “allow me to go through your progress and i'll leave my own criticisms, take it as a partial checking. we wouldn't want to finish a thesis then realize the whole paper is wrong, would we?” nahida suggests, her eyes round and pleading. hat guy stares down at his desk, almost praying to some other god — probably the anemo one, though he doesn't have much faith in the freedom archon — to make nahida and durin realize that he is unavailable at the moment.

“come on, hat guy, today looks like a good—” nahida's words are immediately cut off when hat guy finally looks at their gazes, “fine!” he abruptly stands up with his palms on the desk, the split second of his widened eyes being enough evidence for nahida to see his true feelings without needing to use her mind-reading prowess.

“really?!” durin's eyes sparkle and wings flap in triumph, hat guy groans in defeat, and nahida smiles brightly. “but i'll decide when the day is over.” his tone is as cold as his color palette, but durin does not complain about his condition, his little cheers soften hat guy's bleak exterior.

hat guy detests walking around the heart of sumeru during this time of the year, he remembers in the previous year when akademiya students ambushed him just to get him to blow a sickeningly sweet birthday cake. he lowers his head, until now he can't fully comprehend the nature of birthdays and its significance — for mortals, it may be because their lifespans are merely a flick of a finger compared to non-human races.

he has already lived for so long and will continue to do so, but what part of birthdays satisfy fulfillment if he rejects it himself? it's even so absurd that he is expected to extend gestures to others on his own day.

“hey, hat guy, do you know those tiny things with hats and a smiley face?” the little dragon's query snaps hat guy out of his zoned out state, he momentarily pauses to think what creatures he is referring to before furrowing his brows at the unsure conclusion in his mind, “what things?” the boy envisions the forest spirits around sumeru, the aranara. he doubts durin means the smiles as they do not have a smile, still he remarks those elemental clusters as cute.

“those little things! with hats like yours!” durin tries his best at composing his description, “wait, they have pointy hats, yours is flat.” his voice is small at the realization of the difference in design, “you should know what i mean, right?” he flies right in front of hat guy's face, hoping that his thoughts will get through to his friend.

“perhaps you mean the aranara? they're plant-like forest spirits in sumeru. where did you see one? they don't often show themselves as i've known.” hat guy explains, he sees the bright grin on durin's face, the sight melts him.

he knows the aranara only allows their presence to be known by children (adults can see them but terms and conditions must be met first, e.g. the traveler), and deep down he hopes for durin to take sight of those little things. he believes that durin is a child at heart, not only his small size and curious nature, but his core is akin to a little kid who dreams and hopes.

“they're called aranara? it sounds adorable!” durin giggles, “i saw a couple of them tailing behind the archon! do you think i can befriend them?” hat guy smiles, his sentiments mirroring durin's aspirations. “you can go find them and ask for a friendship contract.” he smirks, obviously teasing the little dragon, though his words carry genuine wishes for durin to create friendships.

“do we like call for them? i want to talk to one!” durin's eagerness at meeting the aranara spreads warmth in his chest, “you have to be patient. they'll appear whenever they deem right.” hat guy responds, he's not entirely knowledgeable about their decisions when or when not to appear, but he knows enough that the aranara values the people of sumeru — even if they're unseen, they're the nation's closest companion.

and he's assured enough that the aranara will welcome durin just as much as he was accepted as their friend.

“there you are!” a deep voice pipes up nearby, durin hastily flies behind hat guy to hide from the unknown voice. “who's there?” the little dragon closes his eyes, the fear of being judged is still within him, hence hat guy extends out both his arms as an act of protecting durin as his gaze seeking out who had spoken to them.

the general mahamatra comes to sight, albeit the most distinguishable factor for hat guy is the tall ears poking out from his hat. his right eyebrow is raised, posing a skeptical expression at the big-eared hat guy's presence and intentions with him.

“ah, the famous hat guy of the vahumana darshan. i believe you remember me from the interdarshan championship last year?” cyno utters, there's a prideful look on his face that makes hat guy even more wary of where this is going. “i recall our sparring moments during the competition, yes, you were the representative for spantamad.” hat guy responds, he knows this man is a big persona in the nation although he couldn't dig it in his memory what his name was.

“speak your intentions, i do not have the luxury of time right now.” hat guy asserts, he watches as cyno takes a deep inhale — and wonders what it's for — before he takes hat guy's hand and slaps down a stack of cards (dear archon, how did he manage to hide a tall stack?)

“do you know about genius invokation tcg? i've been meaning to find you and discuss the game. i have high hopes that you'll be a prodigy of a player, so please hear me out. i have read a few of your research, i applaud your intelligence and critical thinking for curating reasonable claims and powerful arguments. you know what else uses the same strategy? tcg! with your keen observation, wits, and quick analysis, i'm sure you'll be sumeru's second best player — i'm the first, of course — please accept my offer and play with me, i assure you that it is an efficient mental exercise outside of the akademiya. furthermore, playing with others allows a space for building relationships and strengthening bonds. what do you say, hat guy?”

oh, cyno definitely needed that deep inhale. hat guy, on the other hand, is bewildered.

“hat guy, what is he talking about?” durin whispers in his ears, still out of sight.

“you should take upon his offer, hat guy. not only will you gain friends in sumeru, but also acquire a reputable image across teyvat.” the green-eyed desert guy (who hat guy knows as the one who's oddly interested in his hat) shows up and backs up cyno's claim.

right now, he feels like nahida casted him in some weird dream spell because what the hell is going on?

hat guy scoffs, “only brains as small as a sweet flower seed would reckon that a measly card game is enough to be a backbone of life-and-death bonds.” still, the stack of cards remained in his hand.

as if cyno was about to take no for an answer, “keep the stack, hat guy. maybe one day you'll have a change of mind, come find me if you find it in yourself to admit that this game is—”

“hat guy!” another voice pops up in the scenario, but rather than having his guard up higher, hat guy's shoulders seem to relax upon hearing your voice.

as you enter the scene, you immediately realize the situation. there's a look of dread in hat guy's eyes that shows his disagreement towards card games. “general mahamatra, pardon for the intrusion, but please do excuse hat guy and his… displeasure with tcg. i'm sure there are other skilled scholars who are more interested in playing a match with you.” you intervene, a nervous laugh at the end because despite this silly interaction, cyno still holds a high position and you know the power this man has.

cyno was about to respond, but sethos — the green-eyed desert guy — beats him to it, “apologies, my lady. the general here just wants a formidable opponent because apparently i don't play enough tcg.” sethos explains as he casually points his thumb at cyno, “i'm not interested to be your opponent.” hat guy coldly rejects.

“no! you will play tcg with me one da—” sethos covers his mouth that he almost stumbled backwards, they bicker among themselves.

“hey, yn! long time, no see!” you hear durin's little whisper, you assume he's hiding behind hat guy, a giggle passes your lips and the endearing thought. “hey, durin. i missed you!” for a moment, you reminisce the first time durin visited the real world — you met him them as he and hat guy relayed to you the tales of simulanka and all the shenanigans that occurred.

“anyways! hat guy, you know you'd be so cute with your hair tied up.” sethos grinned, the change in topic also brightened up his aura however it only dimmed hat guy's. he takes off hat guy's hat, now he's just guy, and his fingers swiftly grabs a portion of his midnight-hued hair and ties a little bun.

and the cherry on top, a bow.

“...tch.”

hat guy never had his hair tied, you had played with a few strands whenever he lays down on your lap, but that's the closest his hair ever got touched. mini durin struggles to hide his laughter at the sight of his best friend's angered face being ten times more adorable with the new hairstyle.

he's extra convinced that this is just another dream simulated by nahida.

“i wonder what you would look like with your hair braided.” you giggle, envisioning different styles on his jellyfish-like haircut. “whatever it is, don't.” hat guy rolls his eyes.

you, hat guy, and mini durin continue to walk to whoever knows where, your path has strayed away from the city but it's no issue when hat guy finds relief in not having to be jumped on by scholars.

along the way, laughter and banter were thrown back and forth. “don't pretend it's erased in history that you broke my favorite pen!” you nag him, “it was already cracked, it just happened to break apart in my hand!” he defends himself, this argument has been going on for months now, it's your personal grudge against him that you bring up whenever he tries to drag you down.

“it's raining!” durin points out as the rain loudly splatters on the ground, “oi!” hat guy yelps as you take his hat and hovers it over your heads. “c'mon it's big enough.” you reason out, he sighs and rolls his eyes, durin is in between you two as you walk to find a better shelter.

until a small meow catches your attention, as if on instinct, your eyes darts toward the sound's origin. it didn't take long to find a small cat inside a pot, wet in the rain. the little guy seemed to be alone with no owner or parent cat around.

and it didn't take another thought for hat guy to grab his hat and cover the white cat's head, leaving you and durin exposed to the rain, “i'll take you to the shelter. follow me if you want.” he says, but instead picks up the cat in his arms — talk about personal autonomy, no?

shortly, he returns to you and durin, the hat barely covering your group but settles with whatever his hat can provide. it's a wondrous sight, no words were spoken at this moment, even durin who enjoyed conversing let the serene silence overpower the rainfall.

and hat guy realizes that not a word had fallen off your lips about his birthday. you certainly had not forgotten, right?

suddenly, his chest feels empty, which is weird enough for he doesn't even possess a heart. a human heart. his ribs feel tight, as if clenching on nothing; he doesn't understand the anomaly taking place within his core, the cat meows and snuggles against his chest, serving as a temporary remedy for the internal ache.

sometimes you were infuriating. not for reasons that are shallow and certainly he doesn't wish for your demise; he finds you the cause of the berserk inside him, for whenever you two are within each other's parameters, suddenly he's at ease and for some reason that he time and time again fails to provide an answer for, troubled.

dear archons, hat guy could almost solve all of sumeru's political issues — if he dared to — but this predicament that involves you bears no fruition to his efforts in understanding the effect you have on him. the lack of an emotional organ within him feels more and more apparent when there's a rampant of feelings flowing in his blood.

is this what a heart is for?

“the sky's clearing up!” durin beams, flying forward. “don't fly too far, you don't know where you're going.” hat guy scolds the little dragon who muttered an apology and returns close to him. 

you settled in an abandoned hut, based on the nearby surroundings, it's safe to assume you're around the region in between avidya forest and vanarana. “are you hungry little guy?” durin converses with the lone cat that chooses to stay on hat guy's lap, rendering him immobile until the cat is satisfied with its rest.

“say, durin, do you know what today is?” you ask the dragon, he tilts his head in response, “hat day, is today a special day?” you softly smile at how closely tied durin is to hat guy, you've known him since the day he started as an akademiya student, you were together at the same table in the library. he wasn't the sociable type, he made that clear, but you were persistent to break into his personal bubble until you finally claim a spot in his vicinity.

“it's just a normal day.” hat guy rolls his eyes, but the slight tint of pink on his cheeks doesn't go unnoticed. for hat guy, you were like a cat that demands to be paid attention to, a ginger-colored one that he can not seem to predict. 

“really? the sun seems to be too bright just for today to be normal.” he's confused, were you about to break open the forest and have the entirety of sumeru to sing him a happy birthday or there's something else up your sleeve that he can't guess.

“is that an aranara?!” durin squeals upon the sight of a blue aranara walking towards the group, hat guy follows durin's line of sight and spots not just one or two, but a small group of aranaras… and origamis?

his brows furrowed in disbelief, “what's going on?” hat guy looks at you with a puzzled face, you want to snort at his expression because clearly he's trying to avoid his birthday.

and you were not about to let him disregard his day like that.

the army of aranara and origami surrounds hat guy, the aranara orients a necklace of origami flowers around his neck. their little squeals speak of their joyous sentiment for this moment, a moment that belongs to hat guy.

“happy birthday.”

hat guy is stuck in a trance when he finally hears you say it.

“happy birthday, hat guy!” durin exclaims, he's flipping in circles, finally releasing the words he desperately tried to hide since he saw him.

“happy birthday, blue nara!”

“happy birthday, hero of simulanka!”

hat guy puts his hand on his chest as the greetings continue to echo in his ears, is this what happiness feels like?

“thank you.” he simply responds, clearing his throat to regain his usual composure. 

“we have gifts for you!” you crouch down in front of him, a big smile on your face. you gesture the aranaras and paper squirrels to come forth, they carry boxes filled with secret stories whose main character is hat guy.

“i got one too!” durin flies down to sit beside hat guy, his own little gift in his embrace.

“why would you celebrate my birthday?” his voice falters as he lets the question fly past his lips, “because i care for you, hat guy. you're special to me.” you simply reply, hoping that it delivers the deeper meaning of his existence to your life.

you love him, you will forever do so.

hat guy hums, unsure how to reply when he's fighting his innermost turmoil of crystalflies. he resorts to opening the gifts instead, one box containing a hand-crafted paper doll of himself, the enraged expression has him instinctively mirroring the same look, “is this how you see me?” he scoffs, but they let him tell his rough comments and cold feedback as he continues his unboxing spree.

“i've got plenty of unusual stuff from you and you still haven't run out of ideas? even durin has his own contribution.” he sighs, his indigo orbs lingering on the gifts you prepared. the stack of tcg cards from cyno still in his possession.

“because you deserve to be reminded that you're loved and wanted.”

loved and wanted, huh?

hat guy quietly apologizes as he moves the cat off his lap, he leans down to you and his hands cup your cheeks. “last time i checked, you're one of the top rtawahist students, but i must refute your claim on that one.”

“then i'll defend my argument, the absence of a physical heart does not restrict your emotional intelligence and morale. your ribs may not house an organ, but your embrace has proven otherwise.”

you may not know the burden that he hides underneath his facade or the weights that made him believe that love is an outerworldly entity, but one thing you will attest to is the hat guy who knows how to love.

even if it takes years for hat guy to realize and admit that he loves, you will continue to be the one to assure him that it's alright.

for the love he yearns and continues to long for is the birthday gift you promise to give him every year. for as long as you live, and in every reincarnation, you will love hat guy.

hat guy covers durin's eyes as he leans down to collide his lips on yours. the crystalflies in his stomach explode, but it's soon replaced with fulfillment. maybe, he doesn't need a heartbeat to tell him that he can love when he's capable of choosing to love.

there's light in his life when you arrived that one afternoon asking what thesis he was working on, there was you who appeared to hold him when the akademiya felt suffocating, and there will always be you beside him who loves and teaches him love.

if the dendro archon is reading his mind right, he would like to say that he doesn't feel lonely now. he has you now. and even without a birthday cake, he'd like to make a wish: please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh i can recognize anywhere.

“it seems like you're the one who's looking forward to my birthday.”

[absurdthirst]

New Year, New Murder {Dave York x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.5k

Warnings: Arguing, lusting after a married man, murder daddy, assassinations, undercover role-play, crossing a line, infidelity (?), oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, different positions, disgust, self loathing, abandonment, drugging, shooting, Dave being a charming bastard, lovemaking

Comments: Wanting to go into the field as an operative, you keep getting held back by your boss, Dave York. Handsome, married, he's everything you want and you hate yourself for it. Until you convince him to let you work a target with him on New Year's Eve and everything changes.

🎉🎉Happy New Year! I know it's late, but we were recovering 😂

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“I have the schematics for the building, and it looks like the best exit point is at the north end corner, through the kitchens.” You know that you can count on Dave York to ask a million other questions and try to poke holes in the information that you are giving him, but this is rock solid. You don’t even turn back towards the four men that are sitting around the conference room. You know that they are watching closely. Every piece of intel that you can give can mean the difference between life and death. They know that you want them to come out on the other side of the op, hell, you want to be in the op. “The best possible plan you could have would involve five.” You point out. “Your four man team and a fifth.” Now you turn around. “A woman.” You add. “It’s New Year’s Eve. I would be the perfect cover for Dave.” Your eyes slide over to meet his dark eyes. You shouldn’t be attracted to him, he’s married and worse, he’s turned down every request for you to move to the field.You should hate him, but you find your stomach twisting with that familiar pull that can only be described as pure lust. 

Dave hums at your idea, his stomach twisting at the idea of you out there in the field. He doesn’t want to put his best techie at risk. You are the one in his ear on ops, the reassuring presence that lets him go home every time. You’re smart…and beautiful. Too beautiful. He watches you stand there, the screen behind you displaying the floor plan of the hotel. “I don’t think I need a woman. I will be just fine on my own.” He insists, tapping his fingers on the conference table.

“Of course.” You want to say something sarcastic but you just shoot him a tight smile and turn back towards the presentation. You had known he would turn you down, but you had a try.

You go over the details of the op, showing him the best exits in the building and how to blend in, discussing some of the attendees. Dave nods and takes mental notes, his eyes drifting along your form when you turn your back to him. When you're done, he dismisses the team and stands up, watching you as you shut down the screen. "You have a problem, sweetheart?" He asks, noticing how tense you are.

“Yeah, I do.” You spit out, before you shut your mouth again. It doesn’t make a difference, the team leader is stubborn. “Well?” He chuckles when you don’t say anything else as you pack up your computer with obviously irritated, jerky movements. “What is it?” The mere question pisses you off and you whirl around, eyes flashing angrily. “You know as well as I do that this plan would be better with a woman going in with you.” You hiss. “But for some damn reason, you think I couldn’t handle a little field work.”

Dave scoffs, watching you act like a teenager. “It would work better but then I’d have to focus on not only getting in and out without being noticed, killing the target, and not worrying about you. It’s impossible. You’d bring attention to us and I’d be worrying the whole night about your safety. I feel responsible for you.” He explains coolly even though his stomach twists at the idea of anything happening to you.

You snort and shake your head. “I’ve completed all the training.” You remind Dave. “I would be fine. And I’m not some overly sexy supermodel that would turn heads. But four men by themselves at this party would be unusual, having a woman in the mix would help.” You shake your head and turn back to packing up your equipment. “Nevermind. Be safe, have a good mission and see you next year.”

Dave frowns, not wanting you to be angry at him before the op. “You can come.” He announces before you leave the room. He knows this is what leads to you doing stuff behind his back. Talking to other agencies or teams to be out in the field and he’d rather have you with him so he can protect you.

You freeze, astonished that he had agreed to let you go. Turning and staring at him for a second. “What?” You demand and he rolls his eyes. “You can come on the op.” He repeats. “Dress nice.” He sighs. “It is New Year’s Eve after all.”

You nod, excited to prove yourself, and Dave sees your eyes light up. Fuck, that makes his stomach twist with desire. You’re too fucking beautiful. “I’ll pick you up at nine.” He says and you nod, eager to head home and start getting ready. Dave sighs when you practically skip out of the room. “Fuck.” He murmurs and rubs his cheek, unsure of how he’s going to keep you safe tonight. 

****

Dave knows he can’t just honk the horn for you to get in his car so he parks on your driveway and walks to the front door, ringing the doorbell before he adjusts his cufflinks while he waits for you.

Checking the mirror one last time to make sure that the knife you had strapped to your upper thigh isn’t visible, you try to ignore how much effort you had put into your appearance. Dave is a married man, you shouldn’t want him. He has a wife and two beautiful little girls, so the primping and the lipstick and push up bra you are wearing that match the lace panties under your dress are purely for yourself. That's the lie you tell yourself, anyway. Satisfied, you open the door to find Dave looking positively wicked in a black tuxedo that makes your cunt clench and your body tighten in need. “Hi.” You murmur breathlessly. “Let me get my bag.” You tell him, trying not to imagine this as a real New Year’s Eve date. 

Dave’s eyes drift down to your ass, a soft groan escaping his lips as he admires the dress you’re wearing. You look fucking gorgeous and he knows he can’t touch you. Not because he’s married. He’s divorced. Carol is the one who wanted it. Said she couldn’t handle him going off for days without contact with no explanation and he couldn’t explain it so she said they’re over. He was sad, mainly to lose the girls full time, but he sees them every weekend. He didn’t tell anyone at work, wanting the cover of marriage to get out of BS after work drinks and boring shit he doesn’t want to be involved in. You come back with your purse and he steps aside, letting you lock up your place before he escorts you to his car.

You try not to shiver when he puts his hand on your lower back. Bare skin because of the strategic cutout that you think looks amazing. His hand is warm and you can feel the calluses. It will be something you think about tonight when you are in bed alone with your vibrator between your thighs. “Carol isn’t too disappointed you have to work, is she?” You ask, mainly to remind yourself this man is taken so you don’t spin around and throw yourself at him.

Dave shakes his head before he opens the door, “she’s busy tonight and the girls have a babysitter.” He knows Carol has been seeing some guy at her gym. He’s already vetted him and doesn’t give a fuck that she’s already fucking someone else. He just doesn’t want the asshole around his kids if he’s dangerous. Either agency or civilian. Dave opens the door and you frown at his answer as you slide into the passenger seat. He shuts the door and rounds the car, getting into the driver's side.

“The guys are already there?” It seems now like they are going with your original plan that you had lined out. The team is already in place and you and Dave will arrive separate.

Dave pulls up at the hotel, reluctant to use the valet but he has no choice. There's no self parking and that would make him stick out even more. The valet takes his key and Dave tucks the card into his pocket before he rounds the car to help you out, offering you his hand.

“They are already in place.” Dave taps the comm he has in his ear that he turned off when he picked you up. 

You slide your hand into his, looking up at him with an adoring gaze since the extra valets are watching. It’s not an act, but you can finally not hide how you feel about him, even if he will just think you are one hell of an actress.

Dave hates how you look at him. Like he’s hung the moon and the stars. He’s not an idiot. He knows you have a crush on him and that’s what makes this so difficult. He doesn’t want to hurt you and he doesn’t want to see you get hurt. Yet he knows he’d destroy you. He escorts you into the hotel, following the signs to the ballroom where the event is being held and he squeezes your hand when you enter, “you want a drink, sweetheart?” He asks, knowing he will have a Coke but you can have a glass of champagne.

“I’ll stick with seltzer water.” You murmur softly. “It isn’t professional to get drunk on an op.” You know that sometimes you have to drink but a club soda will look like a drink in your hand. That will do.

Dave nods, impressed by your dedication. Most would’ve failed by now and already been grabbing a glass of champagne. He guides you over to the bar, his hand shifting to your back, and he gestures for the bartender to come over. “Coke and a Club soda.” He orders and the bartender walks off. “So…you see our person?��� He asks, leaning in closer.

Instead of scanning the room like a novice would, you glance in the large mirror that is above the bar and gives an excellent view of the large ballroom. “Two o’clock.” You murmur softly, leaning in and looking like you are whispering something loving in his ear. “Grey suit with a maroon shirt and black tie.”

Dave glances in the mirror to the target, his hand rubbing your back as he leans closer and murmurs, "good eye, sweetheart. It's early. We need to wait until he has had a few more drinks before we strike. We need people to be drunk to believe that he fell off a balcony." He whispers, his lips brushing your ear.

You can’t help the soft sound you make, but you don’t think he hears it. It’s loud in the ballroom. The bartender slides your drinks in front of you and you take your club soda with a flirtatious smile. “Thank you.” You hum before you press closer to Dave. “Shall we mingle?” You coo.

Dave nods, his hand caressing your bare skin on your back as he throws some cash down for the drinks and he escorts you into the crowd. You are a natural and he hates how easy it is for you to excel at being in the field. He desperately wants to keep you safe but he’s being selfish wanting that.

Making sure to keep your expression almost bored, you glance around the ballroom. Taking note of the exits and the security that is placed around the room. “Oh darling, look.” You seem excited as you point towards the dance floor. “Cameras are pointed away from the balcony.” You murmur softly. “Dancing.” You say louder. “We should dance.”

Dave knows he should keep you at arms distance…literally…but he’s finding it hard to keep away from you. He takes your hand, escorting you to the dance floor where several other couples are and he pulls you close as the band plays a slow song.

You hum softly to the music as Dave pulls you close. The scent of his spicy cologne filling your senses and making you swoon slightly at the way he holds you. It’s possessive, even though it’s just for show. “A new year, new beginnings.” You murmur softly.

Dave allows himself a moment to pull you close. Your perfume hits his senses and he hisses under his teeth at the flowery scent. "Everything okay?" You ask and he nods, offering you a soft smile, "yeah. All good." He promises, rubbing your back and he squeezes your hand, spinning you around.

You laugh softly, not expecting the move but loving how he guides you around the dance floor. For a moment, he smiles and you can pretend he wants to dance with you and it’s not just a cover. A fairytale moment that has your heart pounding and you smile as you come back into his arms. “Mr. Stephens.” You use the fake name he had gotten the invitation under. “You are too smooth, sir.” You flirt. “Keep that up and you will find a girl breathless over here.”

He wishes his real name had fallen from your lips but you are doing a good job of keeping cover. He feels like he could fail at any moment when he has you looking into his eyes like that. “That’s my plan.” He flirts back, “keep you breathless all night long until you let me keep you.” He says, his words true but his tone is playful and flirty…an act that he is finding too comfortable.

You swallow slightly, hoping he doesn’t notice but you’re sure he will. Dave doesn’t miss anything. “Keeping me would never be the problem.” You try to keep your own tone light and flirty, but it comes out seductive.

Fuck, he wants to keep you. He really does. He murmurs your name, pulling you closer to conceal it, and your sigh puffs against his neck. It’s clear that he could take you as his own but he’s not selfish enough to do that. “Can you see him?” He asks, voice rough with some unknown emotion.

“Yes.” Your own voice sounds wrecked, like you are barely holding onto your sanity but your eyes swing over to the target. “He’s alone.” You murmur. “Drunk.”

“Good.” Dave murmurs, “we will leave him for another ten minutes and then the plan can go into action.” He taps his ear, acting like he’s scratching. “Ten minutes.” He says to the team before he mutes himself again and the song comes to an end. “Let’s make some small talk, make our way over to him.”

“Of course.” You let him lead you off the dance floor, his arm around your waist as you head towards a group of people. At these functions, no one knows everyone, not even the host, so it’s not unusual to introduce yourself.

Dave guides you over to a group, wanting people to see him and know him by a different name. “Great party, right?” One of the guys asks and Dave hums, a smile on his face, “perfect way to see in the new year. Doesn’t hurt that I get to see my girl all dressed up.” He winks at you and squeezes your waist.

You fluster prettily and slap his chest with one hand. “He flatters me.” You hum. “It’s nice, even though he knows he’s guaranteed to ring in the New Year with sex.”

Dave chuckles and leans in to softly kiss your hair, “I gotta treat her good. Kiss her real good when the clock strikes midnight.” He winks and the group chuckle, “you’re a lucky bastard.” One man chuckles. “So…how do you know Peter?” A woman asks, naturally nosey if Dave’s instincts are correct, inquiring about how you know the host of the party.

You have done extensive background checks on Peter Malwick, the person responsible for the party. You smile and turn towards Dave, curling into his side. “Our daughter, Mila, attends St. John’s with Stacy.” You play with the lapel of Dave’s jacket. “Sometimes the men go golfing together while we do the monthly charity bake sales.”

Dave caresses your back, a smirk on his face, “I got a birdie last time we went out and then I got to come home and sample one of my wife’s cupcakes. She’s a dream baker.” He leans in to nuzzle his nose against your cheek and the women in the group coo while the men appraise you. Dave has played this game many times but never with a partner and he finds it’s easier to play the crowd with someone else.

You hum, eyes slipping closed like this is a game you and Dave constantly play. It’s easy to act like you are in love with him. “That was a good day.” You giggle, like you are talking about more than golf or cupcakes. The woman who had asked about the two of you seems positively convinced and you turn your head to drop a kiss right at the edge of Dave’s mouth. “How about you?” You ask. “How do you know Pete?”

The woman goes to speak but her husband cuts her off with a look and he says “oh we are in the same business. He’s a close associate of mine.” He says vaguely and Dave hums, “he’s a very successful man.” The husband nods and pulls his wife close, squeezing her arm in warning.

You notice the move but you don’t say anything, smiling at the couple like nothing is amiss. “Sweetheart, I think I need another drink.” You shake your empty glass for effect. “Shall we go get another?” You look over at the woman with a shrug. “Vodka sodas are the drinks that have the least calories here.” You tell her.

She giggles and winks, “perfect.” Dave escorts you back to the bar and he orders you another club soda. “The stage is set. Just gotta wait for the right moment.” He murmurs, rubbing your back as he watches in the mirror.

“Yes, we do.” You murmur softly, looking over at him in complete adoration and lean into his touch. “It will come soon enough.” Your eyes watch as your target stumbles, spilling his drink. “Very soon.”

Dave hums, leaning closer to nudge his nose against your ear. “We will be here until midnight until we are able to take him out. We need to get him outside on the balcony when everyone is distracted.”

“Ringing in the new year.” You hum, smirking slightly. “Sounds like something I’m going to think about later.” You will go back to your house and spend the rest of the evening thinking about Dave inside you. How you wish you had spent New Year’s.

Dave hums, taking a sip of his drink after it’s set down on the bar. He leans closer to you, his free hand on your lower back as he watches your expression in the mirror. You look a little flustered and he wonders if it’s the op or his proximity. Deciding to test you, he leans closer to run his nose along your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume.

Your cover slips, or perhaps you just lean into it. After all, you are supposed to be posing as his wife. Your breath hitches slightly and you want to turn your head to kiss him. You want to so badly your lips tingle, but you remind yourself that this is just an act. A farce to sell the fact that you are supposed to be here. “Dave.” You murmur breathlessly. 

He knows what you want right now and he can’t give it to you. If he kisses you, he won’t want to stop and he can’t put you in danger. He leans closer, his lips almost brushing your jaw and he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “It’s almost midnight.” He murmurs, breath washing over your cheek, “and then we will get our target.”

You snap back to your senses and rock back an inch away from him. “Roger.” You murmur, swallowing harshly and turning your head back towards the mirror to keep an eye on the target while your stomach twists in disappointment. Ashamed of yourself for being upset that Dave kissed your cheek instead of your lips. You have to get away from him. The interview you had last week replays in your mind and you rethink your plan. Right now you just need to accomplish this mission.

Dave hums as he takes another sip of his drink, the clock ticking down and soon the band is announcing the countdown is coming up. “We will countdown, make sure everyone sees us and then we will follow him outside. The guys have already made sure he’s outside, smoking a cigar, so we can do this quickly.” He murmurs again.

“You’re the boss.” You remind him and yourself as you straighten up and reach for the drink that has been refreshed. You wish it did have vodka in it right now as you take a sip, but you know that drinking could jeopardize the mission as well as your sanity. The last thing you need is to beg Dave to fuck you in the bathroom or something. There is a room that has been rented under your alias names to complete the cover as a couple enjoying the New Year’s party, but you have no intention of actually using it. 

Dave can feel how tense you are but right now, he has your safety in mind, and that means he’s solely focused on the op. When the countdown is about to start, he takes your hand and guides you towards the balcony, stopping on the edge of the dance floor as the countdown starts. To anyone watching, you’re a couple cheering in the new year, and so that’s what Dave plays. “Three…two…one!” The cheers are loud but Dave surges forward to press his lips to yours, his hand cupping your cheek.

He’s kissing you. You melt into the kiss for a moment. Giving in to the need swirling in your stomach and you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him close. Letting him in when his tongue slides against your lips to demand entrance. Giving him every part of you while the confetti and streamers fall all around you and everyone starts to sing ’Auld Lang Syne’. 

He knows he shouldn’t kiss you like this but he indulges himself this one time. He pulls you close, pecking your lips as he tears himself away from you, knowing that he needs to complete this op. He takes your hand while everyone is cheering, escorting you to the balcony. Anyone watching would think he wants more than a kiss right now with the way his eyes darken but he’s shifting his focus as he opens the balcony door for you.

You try to control your breathing, snapping back into your operational mindset. The mission is the most important thing and you see the target leaning against the railing, a ring of smoke blowing up into the air from the cigar in his hand. There’s only a few moments to be had before revelers will spill out on the balcony and you need to take advantage of it. You feel Dave’s hand squeeze yours and you give him a small squeeze back. You’re ready. 

The target has already been drugged by Resnik who slipped by the target when he got his drink. He should be disoriented and that’s exactly what you find when you and Dave step out into the balcony. No one else is out there so Dave grabs you, dragging you closer to press his lips to yours as he walks backwards towards the target.

You know what Dave is doing, your eyes open and you’re surprised that he is letting you guide him towards the target. “Shit!” The target drops his cigar over the edge and bends down far over the edge for some reason even though it is falling down to the ground five stories below you. “Now.” You murmur against his lips, the perfect opportunity being created for you. 

He wastes no time spinning around and he slams into the target making him cry out as he goes head first over the balcony railing and a few moments later you hear the bang of his body hitting the concrete. Dave pulls away from you, shifting to look over the edge and he sees the twisted body of the target, blood starting to pour from his body.

“We should move.” You murmur, knowing that the team needs to disperse. None of you need to be around when the body is discovered. Resnik lifts his brows at you, surprised by the kiss the two of you shared but you don’t say anything else and he disappears into the shadows of the balcony.

Dave knows Resnik will handle the rest of the op so Dave takes your hand, “let’s go to the room. We need to have more witnesses that see us go to the room. To sell the story.” He murmurs, unsure if he really thinks it’s needed. If he was alone, he’d be gone already but right now, the kisses have muddled his mind and he needs a moment to reconvene…the room will give him that.

You don’t question him, but you giggle as soon as you enter the ballroom, starting to put on a show for anyone who might be looking. “Take me to bed, baby.” You coo, curling around him and sliding your hand up his chest. “I want to spend the rest of the night with you inside me.” 

Dave wants to indulge in those words, take you to bed and show you how good it can be, but he knows he can’t do that. He’d be risking you, making you his in a way that he’d never be able to forget, and he can’t cross the line but right now, he has to act like he is. “Come on baby. Wanna get you naked to celebrate the new year,”

Anyone who watches you would just see a couple eager to get back to their hotel room. Your steps swiftly carry you away from the ballroom and you are on the elevator before the first screams are heard when someone spots the broken body of the man  you had been contracted to kill. On the elevator, you know the cameras inside will be recording you, so you pull Dave close and wrap your arm around his neck to drag his lips down to yours for a kiss. Continuing your cover as the eager partygoers. 

Dave groans, pushing you up against the wall of the car without care. He knows this is for show and when you are in the room, he will ensure you are okay and he will wait until the appropriate time to sneak out with you. Resnik has orders to cut cameras on his order so you can sneak out. For now though, he slides his tongue into your mouth and grips your waist.

You let yourself get lost in the kiss, knowing that this will be the last time, the only time you get to have him like that. You grind against his hard body and feel him respond. Thrilled that even if he can’t have you, he wants you. Even if it is just physically. You tell yourself it’s for the camera but it’s a lie as you slide your hand down between you and squeeze his cock through his tuxedo trousers.

Dave hisses at your touch, knowing he shouldn’t allow you to do this but it feeds the dirty thoughts he has had about you all night. He’s imagined taking you somewhere, making you moan his name. His hand slides down to squeeze your ass, giving you a taste of your own medicine, and he chuckles when you whimper against his mouth as the doors open. “Come on.” He demands, voice raspy with desire as he takes your hand to drag you down the hall.

You feel like you are on fire, but you know that you can’t take it farther. When you get to the room, you will both revert back to your normal professional relationship, the acting will be over. Dave holds onto your hand even as he pulls out the key card and opens the door. He pushes you inside and you hear the door click behind you as you try to catch your breath.

Dave hears your panting and he snaps. He can't help himself. He spins around and grabs you, pushing you up against the door of the hotel room. His nose presses against yours, his eyes open as he stares at you, "tell me to stop." He demands, needing you to order him to stop when all he wants is to strip you down and do what he's imagined more times than he cares to admit.

Your gasp is breathless and eyes wide when he presses you against the door. His own eyes are dark and you can see the lust swimming in their depth, making your core burn and you can’t deny him. “Don’t stop.” You whisper, wanting him despite knowing that it’s wrong. You just want one night with him, then you will somehow figure out how to live with the shame. 

The permission makes him groan, his lips pressing urgently against yours again. His hands desperate as they grab you, already working on finding the zipper of your dress. It’s wrong. He shouldn’t do this. Shouldn’t touch you. Yet he can’t stop. His heart pounds, all composure thrown aside and he pulls the zipper down.

As soon as his hands start to strip you, your own become frantic. Pushing the tailored jacket of his tux over his broad shoulders and starting tugging on his bowtie. Impressed and frustrated by the fact that it’s real and not just a clip on. You want him naked, you need to feel his skin under your hands. Nearly ripping the buttons of his dress shirt. Your comms is pulled out of your ear and tossed aside, you don’t want the team to hear you. “Dave.” You moan when he finally pulls away to peel his shirt and jacket off while your dress falls to the floor. Leaving you standing in your heels, bra and panties with the knife strapped to your thigh. 

Dave trails his eyes along your form, loving how gorgeous you look in the matching set and he knows you well enough to know that you picked that out with him in mind. He smirks, licking his lips and taking in your figure. You fluster and he chuckles, toeing off his shoes to leave them by the door. “Go lay down on the bed, sweetheart.” He orders, “keep the heels on.” He says as he works on his pants.

You shiver slightly, obeying him and forgetting everything but how much you want this man. You watch as you lay back on the bed, propped up on your elbows as he strips out of his pants and leaves himself in his boxer briefs. You lick your lips and shake your head. “All of it.” You demand, wanting to see him. 

He nods, watching you as he pushes his boxers down. His cock is hard, leaking pre-cum as it bounces when he kicks his pants away. You moan and he smirks, reaching down to squeeze his cock. “You want this.” He states, knowing he doesn’t have a doubt of that. “Tell me what you’ve thought about with your fingers inside that pretty pussy.” He orders, pumping himself.

Your eyes are greedy as they roam over his body, drinking in the sight of him. He’s so sexy, even more so with his cock in his hand as he strokes himself. You can feel your pussy dripping with need and you clench around nothing. “You.” You admit shamelessly. “Fuck me. Over the desk in your office. In the gym showers. Sucking your cock when you come in from an op.” 

Dave chuckles, knowing that your thoughts have been filthy and hearing them spoken into the air has him twitching in his hand. “Take your panties off. And the bra. Wanna see all of you. Keep the heels on.” He demands again, his dark eyes trailing along your form.

You sit up to reach behind you so that you unclip your bra. Tossing it aside after sliding the straps down your arms. You lay back down and lift your hips, shoving the lace down and using the heel of your left shoe to hook the panties on and fling them off. You aren’t shy, spreading your legs for him to get a perfect view of your wet cunt. 

Dave groans, eying your bare cunt. It's obvious you wax and he fucking loves that. He steps closer, looming over you, and he moves so fast your gasp echoes when he surges forward to bury his face in your cunt.

You are completely surprised by the face that Dave is eating you out, you hadn’t expected it. You had expected him to want you to suck his cock. His tongue burns a path through your folds as you tangle your fingers through his short hair and you grind your hips down against his face. “Dave.” You moan, eyes closed as you shudder. 

Your moan has him squeezing his cock in his fist as he tastes the tang of your arousal. Fuck, you taste sweet and sour. He loves it. He groans into your flesh, lapping at it as you moan his name again.

He’s not trying to rush you towards an orgasm, or just get you wet enough to fuck. He’s tearing you apart with his tongue. Each stroke is designed to make your stomach clench and your toes curl as he licks into your aching core. You are already so turned on that every flick of his tongue makes your body jolt, so close to coming apart. “Fuck - I- I’m so close.” You pant out. 

Dave can’t believe how worked up you are and he loves it. He groans into your flesh, sucking your clit between his lips, and he desperately wants to hear you fall apart. He wants to taste you. He doubles down, sucking harder on your clit to push you over the edge.

Your thighs shake and with one more suck on your clit, you are screaming out his name for everyone on your floor to hear. Core twisting and flooding in pleasure, cunt gushing as you buck up against his mouth. 

Dave groans, lapping at your cum to work you through it. Your thighs squeezing his head and he loves it. He laps at you until you push his head away. He smirks, his chin shiny with your slick, and he squeezes his cock as he shifts to kneel on the foot of the bed.

“Fuck me.” You beg softly, needing to feel him inside you. You spread your legs enticingly and all of the reasons that you should push him away are forgotten with the dark look in his eyes. He wants you just as badly as you want him. “Dave, fuck me.” 

He can’t deny you when you beg so sweetly. He hisses and shifts to kneel between your thighs, gripping his cock. He pushes into you, walls fluttering to adjust to him and he loves the way your jaw drops. “You’re gonna take every fucking inch and every fucking drop I give you.” He demands, jaw clenched as he looms over you.

You mewl in pleasure as he notches the thick head of his cock at your entrance and starts to push into you. Mouth dropping open as he stretches you out, your hands slide up to his arms, nails digging into his biceps from how good it feels. It’s perfect, he’s perfect inside you, filling up all the emptiness and giving you so much pleasure from the slow and steady roll of his hips. 

He hisses at how your cunt grips him like a vice. It makes his eyes squeeze shut until he opens them, remembering that he wants to watch you take him. He groans your name as he starts to move faster, your tits bouncing with each rock of his hips. “Take it.” He demands, his hands gripping your hips.

You do take it, all you can do is take it. Moaning, you hold onto his shoulders and start to lift your hips up when he thrusts down into you. Wanting this to be more than just a passive experience. You want to move with him. To give back to him. Your walls clench around him when he twitches inside you and you smirk when he groans your name. 

He knows he should’ve stayed away from you but right now, all he can do is fuck you hard and fast. The sounds in the room are your moans and the slap of skin as he fucks into your tight cunt.

It’s everything you expected, everything you wanted from fucking Dave. It’s harsh and passionate, wonderfully rough. You kiss along his jaw and drag your nails down his back, down to grip his ass to feel as he pumps into you. “More.” you beg, “I want more.” 

He leans down to press his lips to yours, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth. His fingers bruising until they slide up to squeeze your breast. “Feel so good, baby. Always knew you would.”

You moan, thrilled that he had thought about this. That he had imagined fucking you. It’s wrong on so many levels, but you can’t care when he’s hammering into you like he’s going to fuck you to death.

Dave loves how you take everything he gives. Your moans vibrate against his lips and he adjusts his hips, wanting to make you fall apart for him. He needs to feel your walls clamp down on him.

His hips snap forward again and again, the coarse hair surrounding his cock rubbing your clit and the next thrust pushes you over the edge. Your legs tighten and your back bows up, head pushing back into the plush pillow as you cry out. “Dave!”

His eyes roll into the back of his head when you clamp down onto his cock, soaking him, and your cry of his name echoes in the room. “Fuck.” He growls, working you through it. When you stop shaking beneath him, he pulls out of you and you whine. He wastes no time flipping you over, smacking your ass, “hands and knees, baby.”

Your face is pressed to the sheets but you don’t care. Gathering your knees under you to present your pussy and ass to Dave behind you. You want to feel him again and you whine. “Fuck me.” You beg breathlessly, hating how empty you feel.

Dave chuckles, caressing your ass, and he smacks it as you arch your back. He wastes no time squeezing his wet cock, positioning himself at your entrance, and he pushes into you. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” He growls when he sinks into you again.

You moan in pleasure, unable to articulate how good he feels. He feels incredible inside you. His cock scrubs against your walls and pushes against something incredible inside you from this angle.

Dave caresses your spine until he smacks your ass with his palm. He starts to move inside you, “fuck baby. You feel so good. Is this what you thought about? Imagined when you rubbed that little clit?”

“Yes.” You gasp out, the sound almost garbled as you moan right afterwards. He’s thick and heavy inside you, pushing just right to make your thighs shake up under you.

Sweat beads on his forehead as he fucks you harder, desperate to hear your cries of pleasure, and he chuckles when you whine, tits swaying with each thrust. “Fuck. Need you to cum again for me.” Dave demands, knowing you’ll be torn apart by him and that’s what he wants.

You don’t know how you’re supposed to cum when you’ve already had one orgasm. Usually you don’t have more than one, but he is determined. Grunting and panting behind you as he rocks into you. Making you whimper and whine as your body starts to tense up again.

Dave grunts, pushing into you harder and faster when he feels your walls fluttering. You’re close. He can feel it. “That’s it baby. That’s it.” He growls when you clamp down on his cock like he wanted. “Such a good fucking girl.” He hisses and pushes into you. He’s so fucking close. His eyes roll into the back of his head when he thrusts a half dozen more times and falls apart with a growl of your name, painting your walls with his cum.

The heat floods your core and you moan. Loving every throbbing pulse as he fills you up. It’s perfect and you close your eyes, panting softly. Boneless and limp from the pleasure

You collapse forward into the crumbled sheets and Dave smirks at how wrecked you look. You look like you need the night to recover and he chuckles, playfully smacking your ass before he leans down to kiss your shoulder as he slowly pulls out of you. “Fucking perfect.” He grunts as he shifts to flop down beside you.

Your head is pleasantly buzzing and you feel drunk even though you didn’t consume one drop of alcohol. “Happy New Year.” You murmur softly. “I could sleep for a week now.” You hum, giggling slightly. “Think they would let me keep the room?”

Dave chuckles, shifting to fold his arms behind his head, “maybe.” He is pleased that you are satisfied. He certainly is. “We will clean up and then we will get out of here.”

“Go home.” It’s like a bucket of cold water has been splashed on you. Dave is married. You had purposefully ignored that, or tried to, while he was buried deep since you, but now you can’t hide from it. “You better stop and pick your girls and wife up something nice since you’re away tonight.” You sit up and start to climb off the bed, standing on shaky legs.

Dave watches you stand up and he frowns. It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell you the truth but he can’t. He sits up, his stomach swirling with guilt and he shifts off the bed, reaching for his pants. He cannot put you in danger by keeping you and you wouldn’t want him. This was a one time thing. “Yeah.” He murmurs, “something nice.”

You make your way to the bathroom, needing to wash away your sin, but you can’t, it’s buried under your skin. Guilt nearly makes you retch, unable to look at yourself in the mirror as you start the shower.

Dave redresses, keeping his bow tie untied around his neck, and he shrugs on his jacket. He sits on the edge of the crumbled bed, wringing his hands together. He wants you to be his but his life…it’s too dangerous. He can’t allow you to come into this life.

You shower, scrubbing yourself from head to toe and the water is scalding hot. You won’t cry, you can’t - not right now. Not when he has given you exactly what you wanted. You just have to live with the guilt if it now. Getting out, you wrap a towel around your body, your face washed clean of all makeup.

Dave knows he should stay. He just fucked you. He wants to stay but he can’t. He leaves a note, hand steady as he tells you to spend the night. He will act like you’ve had an argument. After setting the note on the pillow, he grabs his comm and leaves the room with a soft click of the door that you won’t hear. He hopes you will quit and go find a safer job. A husband. A family. Live a normal life. He can never have that.

It takes you a few minutes to compose yourself, knowing that Dave has sharp eyes and an even sharper instinct. He will know if you have any kind of hesitation that something is wrong. When you open the door, you find that the entire point is moot, the room is empty. Your heart twists when you see the note on the bed and you don’t even reach for it. You know what it says. It says that this was a mistake. You swallow harshly and move over to your clutch, your encrypted phone inside. You pull it out and dial a number. Ringing once, it clicks - answered but not one greets you. “I accept.” You say calmly, sure now that you are making the right decision.

**** 

*One year later* 

“So any new year plans?” Dave is asked by the new techie and he sighs, “only a job. Good night to take out a target.” He smirks and the tech chuckles, “damn right. Too many distractions.” He says and Dave nods, his mind taken back to last year when he went on an op with you. His chest tightens and he sighs, “I’ll be ready. Just give me the details.” He says and stands up, leaving the conference room as his mind wanders. He has to focus. 

**** 

The party is in full swing when he arrives, dressed in a jacket and tie, this party isn’t as formal as last year and he knows his target will be trying to win over the donors. He’s a politician. One that fucked off the wrong people and now he needs to be involved in an accident on New Year’s Eve. Dave glances around the room, people laughing and dancing, and it’s eerily reminiscent of the night he spent with you. He hadn’t heard from you after he received your resignation in his email and he wanted to track you down but it was like you’d disappeared. He was worried but he figured you didn’t want to be found. You know how to do it and he respected that, knowing he was in no position to convince you to come back to the team. Right now, he wonders where you are. Do you have a boyfriend? A partner? Are you safe? happy? He hopes you are.

Watching the room, you sip your soda water, eyes roaming over the crowd. Your target is laughing in the middle of a group of people, the congressman fawning over the wealth and power of those grimacing slightly as he continues to run his mouth. You smirk slightly, rolling your eyes at the pretentious ass until you catch the sight of a ghost from your past. Freezing as he moves through the crowd, not spotting you, but he’s also not looking for you either. Dave. He must have been contacted for the politician too but you’ll be damned if you’ll let him take him down.

Dave snakes his way through the crowd, making his way toward the congressman and he remembers how much easier this was last year with you by his side. He has to make small talk when he’s alone. His drink is nearly empty and he smiles at people as he walks past them towards the group fawning over the congressman. He turns his head towards the bar, wondering if he should get another drink and wait for the crowd around the politician to disperse. That’s when he sees you standing there. He murmurs your name, his brow furrowing and he quickly makes his way to the bar.

You see Dave start heading towards the bar, towards you. Sighing softly, you know that he will probably approach you. Wanting to know what you are doing here. “Standby.” You murmur into your comms and click it off so your team can’t hear you, although you know they all have eyes on you. You are the lead after all.

Dave approaches you, gesturing for the bartender, and he doesn’t let the shock show on his face. He’s trained for this. For personal entanglements. “Never imagined I’d see you here. You got a boyfriend who works for Congress or something?” He asks softly, raising his eyebrows.

“Or something.” You arch a brow at him, picking up your soda and shake the ice in it. “What are you having, Dave?” You ask. “I should say I’m surprised to see you here, but I know the guest list and I’m not.”

He turns to the bartender who appears and he clears his throat, “Coke.” He orders and he glances down at your glass when the bartender walks off. “You- what the hell are you doing here?” He asks, confused and frankly pissed that you seem to be putting yourself in a dangerous situation. The congressman is involved with the fucking mafia.

Your eyes flicker over to him before you glance back at the mirror above the bar. It always plays into your favor when venues copy each other on design. “Same thing I assume you are doing here, Dave.” You hum, glancing back at him for a brief moment. “So don’t get in my or my team’s way.”

His frown deepens and he shakes his head, “you’re here in a fucking - you aren’t here for tech?” He asks and you smirk, turning to look at him. “I outgrew tech and another company saw my potential.” Your smirk pisses him off when combined with the fact that you are putting yourself at risk doing this job. “No. No. You aren’t - this is my target.” He growls into your ear.

You sense more than see your team start to move in. Reaching up and tapping your comms. “Stand down.” You murmur quietly. “He’s not going to hurt me.” Dave glances in the mirror, seeing three different men in suits stop from various positions around the room. You tap off the comms again and twist to look at your former boss and one time lover. “Seems like they wanted to make sure the poor congressman got exactly what he deserves.”

Dave clenches his jaw, pulling back from you and he watches the men retreat. “I can’t fucking believe this. I tried to protect you and you’ve gone into the lion’s den.” He hisses and shakes his head, “you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“I’ve been running ops for nearly a year, Dave.” You snort. “I think I’m well aware of the dangers of this life.” You see the bartender bringing his Coke over. “Well, this was fun, but let’s not do it again.” You hum as you push off the bar to turn and sashay towards the group of people the congressman was talking to. If you put an extra sway in your step, it was purely coincidental.

Dave watches you go, his dark eyes flicking down to your ass and the memory of slapping it when he was inside you hits him. He swallows a large gulp of Coke and his comm hisses. “holy shit. Was that - goddamn she’s an operator.” Resnik’s voice crackles in his ear and he growls, reaching up to turn off the comm. Leaning against the bar, he watches you flirt with the target and he grinds his teeth, watching in annoyance.

You are aware of the other team now that you know Dave is here. Their formation is typical of their team and you watch them as you laugh at the wildly unfunny joke the congressman makes, offering him a toothy smile and no one notices that the compartment of your ring opens to dump the poison in his drink when you grab his forearm and lean into him to give him a great view of your tits.

Dave notices the move. Shaking his head when he realizes the target has been taken out by you in a move that only a woman could accomplish. Dave huffs and strides over, making his move as he walks past the congressman and bumps his shoulder. “Shit!” The politician yelps as his drink falls to the floor, spilling on his shoes, and Dave smirks over his shoulder as he walks away.

“Asshole!” You call out, furious that Dave has ruined your chance. You have to back away from the target or it will be too suspicious. “Damn.” You hiss, wiping away an imaginary stain. “I better go try to get this out.” You don’t say anything else before you are turning and rushing off towards the bathroom.

Dave feels smug as you rush towards the bathroom and he follows you, stepping into the ladies room when it’s empty for everyone except you. He locks the door behind him and steps closer as you reapply your lipstick. “Poison. I thought you’d be more dramatic.”

“No need when he has an underlying heart condition.” You glance back at him for a moment before looking back at your reflection to meticulously coat your lips. “Less risk when they believe he has a heart attack. The poison doesn’t show up on a toxicology report.”

Dave hums, “true but it’s a little safe. I figured you’d be the kind of assassin that wants a little flair. You are sensible but this is your time to show off. Poison…it’s a little boring.” He shrugs one shoulder, his eyes dipping down to your lips. “I’ve missed you.” He confesses softly.

“You missed me so much you left after fucking me?” You ask, pressing your lips together and turning towards him. You had tried not to let his goading get to you, knowing his vanity and reputation was important to him, but you prefer to fly under the radar and have a solid record of kills.

Dave clicks his tongue, tilting his head, “I had to. I couldn’t - well, it’s a moot fucking point now, but I tried to stay away from you to keep you out of danger. I didn’t want you involved in this way. You could get hurt…or killed. I didn’t want to be the reason you got killed.” He confesses, “so I left before I got in too deep.”

You snort softly. “Whatever, it was for the best, considering that you are married.” You arch a brow. “Carol isn’t going to be pissed that you are ignoring her two New Year’s in a row?”

Dave chuckles, realizing why you are so angry at him. He leans closer and gently brushes his fingers over your shoulder. “I’m divorced. Have been for 2 years.” He reveals with a smirk when he looks at you in the mirror.

Your eyes widen slightly before you school your expression. “Liar.” You hiss, turning away from him. Brushing past him to open the door and Dave grabs your arm, making you yank away from him. Pissed off that he would mock you about this. 

He holds his hands up, “shoot me right here if you think I’m lying but you know me. I didn’t fuck you as a married man. I wouldn’t do that. I might kill for a living but I have some morals.” He says and you scoff, shaking your head. “I still think about that night.” He confesses softly, “a lot.”

Frowning, you watch him closely. He is a liar but you know that he’s not lying about this. His eyes are warm and honest, revealing. “I do too.” You admit. “I felt so fucking guilty because I wanted to do it again. That’s why I resigned.”

“I left you in that room because I was trying to protect you. I’m not a good man. I’ve done bad things and I- I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m divorced. I see my girls every week but Carol has already moved on. I haven’t moved on…from you. I don’t think I ever will.” He admits, “but I’ll walk away right now. You can have the target. I’ll leave and you won’t see me again…if you tell me that you don’t feel the same. That you don’t love me like I love you.”

“You should have trusted me to make my own decision.” You huff. “I know what you do, what I do.” You shake your head. “That shit didn’t matter to me. Just like being showy with my kills doesn’t matter.” You pause and bite your lip. “I’m blown with the target. And I can’t say I don’t love you.”

Dave swallows, his expression neutral but you know by his eyes that he’s surprised. He steps closer, his hands coming up to touch your upper arms. “I love you. I want you. I don’t want to spend every damn day wondering where you are. I want you to come back to the team. Be my partner.”

“You don’t mean that.” You murmur softly and he huffs. “You know I do.” He argues. “Come back to me.” He asks again, stroking your skin. “I want you beside me.” You sway slightly, inhaling his cologne and you hate how he still affects you, even if you love it. “We still have to accomplish the mission.” You point out.

“We can take care of the congressman. You flirt with him, make him sneak off away from security and take him to a private space. We will handle him when he’s alone. Can you do that?” He asks, eyebrows raised as he looks at you.

You scoff. “Dressed Iike this?” You reply, gesturing to your slinky dress. “I could get the man to follow me anywhere.”

Dave chuckles, trailing down your form, “you aren’t wrong there.” He winks and leans in to kiss your cheek, “it’s good to see you again, sweetheart.” He murmurs and pulls back, walking back towards the door to unlock it. “I’ll watch for your signal.” He says and slips out of the bathroom.

You take another moment, unsure of what to do but you trust Dave. He would never put your life in jeopardy. You adjust your tits in your dress and walk out of the bathroom with an air of confidence as you walk towards the congressman.

Dave makes his way through the crowd, his eyes watching you as you approach the congressman. You’re sexy, a small smirk on your lips as your hips sway and Dave swipes his thumb over his lower lip while he leans against the bar he approached.

Walking up the congressman, you practically purr as you wind your arm around his neck. “Miss me?” You pout playfully. “I had to go and make sure I was still pretty enough to get your attention.”

The congressman chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you close. “I’m sure you could wear a trash bag and I’d like to see you.” The congressman flirts and you giggle, caressing his shoulder. Jealousy hits Dave but he pauses and reminds himself that you are on an op

“Yeah?” You continue to flirt and some of the group takes the opportunity to escape. Leaving just a few around the two of you. “What do you say that we find someplace quiet?” You hum, reaching up and tracing his lips. “Ring in the New Year in style.”

The congressman smirks, gesturing to his guards to leave you and him alone. The guards hesitate but nod and the congressman takes your hand, guiding you towards the private room in the back. Dave sees this and taps his fingers on the bar, slowly making his way through the crowd.

​​You pretend to be curious about the room. “Did you know this was here?” You ask, pulling away and admiring the sconces on the wall. Giving the teams time to draw in closer. “This is….private.” Turning towards him, you smirk suggestively and crook your finger. “Come here.”

The congressman smirks as he pulls you closer just as Dave opens the door. “Hey man, this is a private room.” The congressman argues and Dave reaches into his jacket. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know-” He cuts himself off as he pulls the gun from his hidden holster and aims it at the congressman in the head, his silencer on.

“What the fu-“ he doesn’t get a chance to finish the comment as you quickly pull away, making him startle and Dave pulls the trigger. The congressman’s head jerks back and his body holds itself up for a split second before he is crumpling back to the floor, dead. “Goddamnit.” You mutter, knowing you have to burn the dress now, just in case there is blood splatter. “I liked this fucking dress.”

Dave chuckles, shrugging one shoulder as he works on holstering his gun. “You look better out of it. There’s a door back here that leads to the outside.” He says and takes your hand, stepping over the dead congressman to take your hand and he guides you to the secret door he saw on the plans.

You tap your comms and give the command for your team to disappear from the party and to head to the safe house. You will give them instructions later on, after you talk with Dave. “Where are we going?”

Dave guides you to the outside and smirks when you ask him, “gonna take you back to mine. It’s not the new year yet.” He reminds you, “we can have a drink and have our own countdown.”

“You gonna disappear this time?” You ask. Still annoyed that he hasn’t told you he had been divorced. You had felt horrible, disgusting, for a long time after that night.

Dave shakes his head, “no. Absolutely not. You’re staying in my bed.” He promises and you smirk, squeezing his hand. He knows he owes you more explanation and he definitely owes you an orgasm.

There is a car that is parked on a little alley next to the building and you know it’s Dave’s. He guides you to the passenger side and opens the door for you. Waiting until you are seated to close the door and round the front of the car to climb in beside you.

He pulls his comm out, tossing it into the tray holder after he opens the door and helps you into the car before he gets into the driver's side. He looks at you as he starts the engine, “should’ve taken you home before.”

“Like you haven’t taken anyone else home since you slept with me.” You wouldn’t blame him if he did. He was single and free to do whatever he wanted, with whomever.

Dave shakes his head, “I haven’t. I - I have been busy trying to prepare to leave the DIA and I - I had to track you down before I left. I have people after me. I’ve made enemies and I don’t want to put you in danger.”

“Yes you have.” You won’t deny it, anyone that is in this business makes enemies. “But it’s better to have someone watching your back too, isn’t it?” You ask. “Dave- I’m a great operative.”

Dave nods, “you are. I shouldn’t have held you back.” He confesses, “I should’ve helped you and let you grow but I was selfish.” He confesses as he drives to his home.

Your brow lifts in surprise at how he is owning up to his mistakes. “New Year, new Dave.” You hum, watching the streets pass by and you wonder where he lives now. Unless he kept the house in the divorce, but you doubt that.

He chuckles, adjusting his fingers on the steering wheel as he makes his way to his apartment. There’s cameras all over the complex but he knows how to manipulate them and how to avoid them. “Just telling the truth. Something new I’m trying.” He confesses with a chuckle.

You hum and look up at the stylish, neat building. “Are you sure you want to bring me here, York?” You ask, aware that he is placing a lot of trust in you.

Dave nods, pulling into his parking space, “I want you here.” He promises and you offer him a soft smile. He winks and cuts the engine, getting out of the driver side to come round to open your door. “You want a drink now that you’re off duty?” He asks, tilting his head as he holds out his hand.

“Sure.” You take his hand and climb out of the car. “I think we’ve earned one. Although, I’m going to need to get rid of this dress.”

“If you want, you can shower and borrow one of my shirts and some boxers….sweats too. Whatever you’re most comfortable in.” He promises and you smile, “thanks.” He makes sure to avoid the cameras as he guides you to his place on the top floor, key pulled from his pocket and soon enough, you’re standing in his living room.

It’s masculine, dark tones and leathers, but it’s clean. Dave is practical and you love that there is the hint of his cologne filling the apartment. “Very nice.” He said his girls visit on the weekends, so of course he wants a place for them. “Very you.”

Dave chuckles and walks over to the door down the hall, “shower is through there. What do you want to drink? Gin and tonic? Vodka soda? Whiskey?” He tilts his head, realizing he doesn’t know what you like to drink.

“Whatever you are going to drink.” You aren’t particular and you look over your shoulder as you start down the hall. “Bring it to me.” You order with a smirk and reach back to unzip your dress.

Dave smirks as you sway your hips when you walk down the hall. Your dress falling down to your ankles and you expertly step out of it, making Dave chuckle. You are a minx. Different from the mousy secretary that he met years ago. He prepares two drums of whiskey and he carries them down the hall to the bathroom where the shower is running.

It had been an invitation and you are glad that he decided to take you up on it. The water is hot and the bathroom surprisingly spacious for an apartment. You watch through the glass as he comes into the room and open the door to take the glass he offers before you tap the edge of your rim to his. “Cheers.” You hum before you pull your hand back to take a sip. You hum at the smooth burn as it slides down your throat and you meet Dave’s eyes through the glass of the shower stall. “Strip.” You order, wanting him to join you, but you want to see him first. 

Dave doesn’t argue. He sets his whiskey down and slowly unbuttons his shirt, stripping off while you stand under the water. “You want me?” He asks, wanting to be sure.

Your eyes run over the revealed skin and you feel your nipples tighten. “I do.” You admit shamelessly. He’s not married, he loves you, you are free to want him as much as you do. “I want you to fuck me right here in this shower.”

Dave eyes you as the water runs over your body. You’re just as fucking gorgeous and his cock is already half hard as he pushes his pants down along with his briefs, kicking them across the bathroom floor and he picks up his glass of whiskey. He has a sip and sets it back down, stepping towards you to slip into the shower.

Your own whiskey is set down in the empty soap dish, turning towards him when he steps into the stall so you can drag him towards you for a kiss. Wanting to feel that intoxicating, consuming sensation you have been craving since the last time he touched you like this.

Dave doesn’t deny you as he leans forward to press his lips to yours, his hands immediately finding your waist. His tongue pushes into your mouth, sampling the whiskey from your tongue, and he groans, cock pressing into your stomach while his hands slide lower to squeeze your ass.

Even though it has been a year, even though you’ve been upset at him and yourself, all of that melts away when he kisses you. Moaning into his mouth as he turns and presses you against the wall, you are already dripping wet and needing him inside you. Reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock to pump him.

He thrusts into your grip, unable to help himself and he devours your mouth. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He groans against your lips, his hands coming up to squeeze your tits. “Gonna fuck you, make you mine again.” He promises and you squeeze his cock, making him groan your name.

You smirk against his lips and groan when he pinches your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. “Dave.” You pant breathlessly. “Fuck me. Now. I - I need you inside me.” He’s hot and throbbing in your hand, making you drip with need.

He can’t deny you anything when you beg him so sweetly. He releases your tits and grabs your thigh, lifting it and he shuffles closer. “Put me in. If you want it, take it.” He orders, leaning in to nip your jaw.

You don’t hesitate. Notching his cock at your entrance and wrapping your leg around his waist. Dave groans when he feels how wet you are and turns to press his lips to yours as he starts to push inside you.

He slides his tongue against yours as he pushes deeper, loving how you whimper and your fingers tangle in his hair. The water hits his back and you are pressed into the tiles as he stretches you out until he is fully inside you.

He feels so good inside you, so thick. Filling you up, and overwhelming your system with the way his cock scrubs up inside you. “Dave.” Your breathless cry of his name is muffled by the water, but he hears it. His lips twisting up into a smirk as he grinds deeper, twitching inside you as you clench around him. “Fuck.” Your arms wrap around his shoulders to hold on as he sets his feet to start moving inside you.

Dave growls, thrusting into you as you are pushed against the tiles. He loves it. He loves you. “Fuck, imagined this pussy so many goddamn times.” He confesses into your jaw, “thought about you so many times.”

You whine in agreement, knowing that despite your conflicted feelings, you had imagined that one night together so many times. You had thought about seeing Dave several times over this year, but you knew that if you did, you would sleep with him, and you hadn’t wanted to risk it. Now you are with him and there is no shame in it. “I love you.” You moan breathlessly, letting him press you against the cold tile wall.

He grunts, “love you too.” His words are washed away by the water, meant for only you and never the outside world. That’s too dangerous. He kisses you softly, rocking into you a little slower as he allows his emotions to show, allowing you to see his vulnerability.

It changes, it turns sensual. Emotional. His tongue slowly slides against yours and he groans into your mouth. Making you answer him in kind, your fingers tangling into his hair as you pull him closer. Giving everything you have to him and he reaches down to pull your other leg up on his hips, lifting you up against the wall as he kisses you.

He doesn’t fuck you hard. He’s slow and he kisses you deeply, passionately, wanting to show you how he feels. He murmurs your name when he pulls back to kiss your jaw, loving the way you clench around him. “That’s it, baby. Take all of me. Fuck. Your cunt is so perfect.” He murmurs, wanting to shower you with praise.

Your eyes slip closed and it’s like you are in a dream. The slow, sedate pace and the steam makes for a romantic air. Something different from the last time you had sex. “You’re perfect.” You counter, turning his head up and kissing along his throat as he rocks into you. “You fit me so well. Fill me up so good.”

“Not perfect. Far from it. But you are perfect to me. Beautiful. So fucking beautiful. Thought it from the first time you entered the office.” He promises, “and I- shit-” He hisses when your walls clench around his cock. “I wanted you from that moment.”

You know that he knew about your crush. “Me too.” You whisper in his ear. “Handsome, smart, rugged, I wanted you. I used to dream about working as a team with you, being lovers.”

“Dream came true baby. I am not letting you go. Gonna be mine. In every way.” He promises, “we plan, we kill, we fuck. We will be unstoppable.” He promises, starting to move a little faster. He wants to hear you fall apart for him, feel it, memorize it in case this is some crazy fever dream. “Fuck, I’m not letting you go now.”

You clench around him, making him growl out your name. Body strong and tightening underneath you as he ramps up the intensity of the thrusts. “No, you aren’t.” You agree, you won’t let him walk away this time. You kiss his lips again and grind down on his length. “Make me cum.” You order.

He doesn’t deny you. His fingers dig into your flesh as he fucks into you, pushing deep, and he grunts against your chin as he watches you. Your eyelashes flutter and he grinds into you, trying to find the spot that makes you fall apart around him.

It only takes him half a dozen thrusts to find it. Squealing in pleasure as your body lights up, his cock pressed deep against a spongy little spot deep in your pussy. “Right there?” He grunts, hissing the words through his teeth since you are so tight around him. “Right fucking there?” As if to prove it to himself, he rocks into that spot again and makes you moan. “Dave, fuck baby, more.”

He rocks into you, teeth gritted as he thrusts deep into the same spot over and over. “Fuck. I need you to cum for me.” He demands and your squeal makes his ears burn when you clamp down onto his cock, soaking him. “Fuck. You are - shit.” He curses, almost struggling to thrust into you with how tight you’re squeezing him. “Fuck, I love you.” He growls, thrusting to fuck you through it until he finds his own pleasure. He thrusts deep, burying himself as he starts to paint your walls with his cum.

“Oh god.” You whine at the feeling of his seed splashing against your womb, loving how full you feel. You hear the fireworks start to explode over the apartment complex and you smile, pressing your lips to his. “Happy New Year.”

Dave smiles against your lips, “happy new year. What a way to start the new year.” He chuckles and you grin, “with a bang.” Dave nudges his nose against yours and he knows he’s never going to let you go now. You are his. His partner in work and in life. “This is going to be the best year yet.” He promises and you hum, caressing his back as the water flows over you. A new year, a new start.

[jhyoos]

REBEL GIRL

Chapter 3: Party Like A Rockstar

rockstar!sevika x influencer!reader

summary: after their first concert of Shattered Soul’s tour, they go clubbing to celebrate.

mentions : modern au!, fame au!, drama, swearing, drinking

notes: just like sevika’s ass it’s finna be juicy.

chapters : one, two, three

The long drive wasn’t something you minded—at first, anyway. You had your headphones in, your laptop balanced on your lap, and hours of video footage to edit for your YouTube channel. Outside the bus, the world blurred into a mosaic of green fields, dusty highways, and faded billboards. Inside, the faint hum of conversation mixed with the occasional strum of Vi’s guitar and Jinx’s rhythmic drumming on a nearby table. Caitlyn was curled up in a seat, scribbling in her notebook, and Sevika lounged across from you, headphones on, looking completely unbothered.

It was the perfect setting for productivity, or so you thought.

With your playlist drowning out the background noise, you fell into your editing zone. Your fingers flew across the keyboard as you adjusted lighting, spliced clips, and refined transitions for a vlog you planned to post soon. The soothing rhythm of your work almost made you forget where you were—until the interruptions started.

At first, it was harmless. Vi, clearly bored, reached over to tap the edge of your keyboard, grinning when you swatted her hand away. A few minutes later, Caitlyn leaned in under the guise of offering input, only to give a mock-serious nod and say, “Looks good to me,” before retreating to her seat with a laugh. Then Jinx decided to get involved, leaning dramatically over your shoulder to narrate your edits in an over-the-top announcer voice:

“And here we see Y/N, hard at work, crafting what is sure to be a masterpiece… unless her genius is interrupted!”

You shot her a glare, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your annoyance.

It became a game to them—a cycle of pokes, prods, and sarcastic commentary. Each of them took turns testing your patience, like some unspoken competition to see who could get the biggest reaction out of you.

And then Sevika stepped in.

You were mid-edit, headphones on, completely focused on syncing a transition when your screen suddenly went black.

“What the hell?” You ripped off your headphones, your heart sinking as you stared at the blank laptop screen. Slowly, you turned to face the culprit.

Sevika stood beside you, her arms crossed and a cocky smirk plastered across her face. “You’ve been glued to that thing for hours,” she said casually, her tone infuriatingly calm. “Thought I’d do you a favor.”

“A favor?” Your voice pitched with disbelief. “By shutting off my laptop? Are you out of your mind?”

The rest of the band erupted into laughter. Vi was practically rolling on the floor, Jinx clutched her sides, and Caitlyn tried—and failed—to cover her amused grin.

“Oh, real funny,” you snapped, glaring at them. “Glad my mental breakdown is such quality entertainment for you.”

“Relax,” Sevika said, her smirk never faltering. “You can always start over.”

You stood abruptly, clutching your laptop like it was your lifeline. “If any of you touch my computer again, I swear I’m locking your equipment up and throwing the key into the nearest ditch.”

“Alright, alright,” Caitlyn said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “We’ll back off… for now.”

You glared at all of them one more time before sitting back down, muttering under your breath as you reopened your laptop and prayed your unsaved work wasn’t lost forever.

The venue buzzed with excitement that night, the air charged with the hum of anticipation. You hung back as the band prepared for their set, observing the chaos of pre-show rituals. Jinx and Caitlyn exchanged last-minute quips while Vi strummed her guitar, testing the tuning.

And Sevika?

She was leaning casually against a wall backstage, surrounded by a small group of fans who’d somehow gained access. They hung on her every word, their laughter ringing out as she threw them that trademark smirk. She signed autographs, posed for pictures, and slipped in the kind of flirtatious comments that made their faces light up.

You rolled your eyes, trying to focus on anything else. It was the same routine every time—a parade of adoration that Sevika basked in like a queen holding court.

“Think they’ll ever get tired of her?” Caitlyn asked, sidling up beside you.

“Doubtful,” you replied, crossing your arms. “She eats this stuff up.”

Caitlyn chuckled, shaking her head. “Well, try not to let it ruin your night. Just enjoy the show.”

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, casting one last glance at Sevika as she laughed at something one of the fans said. Her gaze flicked to you then, catching your eye. Her smirk widened, a knowing gleam in her eye as if she’d caught you watching.

You scoffed and turned away, determined not to let her get under your skin. But as the band was called to the stage, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Sevika enjoyed the game just as much as you did.

The concert was, as expected, electric. The moment Vi stepped onto the stage and shouted her opening line, the crowd erupted. The energy was infectious, the music pounding through your chest as the band launched into their first song. You watched from the edge of the stage, half mesmerized by the sheer power they commanded.

Vi owned the stage, alternating between singing her heart out and shredding her guitar with practiced ease. Caitlyn’s keyboard melodies added depth to every track, while Jinx’s drumming was a chaotic yet perfectly timed rhythm that tied it all together. Sevika, as always, stole the show during her guitar solos. The way her fingers danced across the strings sent the crowd into a frenzy, and you couldn’t deny that she had a magnetic presence, even if you rolled your eyes at it more often than not.

As the concert reached its climax, the energy in the room soared. Fans screamed the lyrics back at Vi, fists pumping in unison, and the stage lights bathed the entire venue in a kaleidoscope of colors. You couldn’t help but get swept up in it, bobbing your head and mouthing along to the words of songs you’d become all too familiar with.

When the last note rang out, the applause was deafening. Vi grinned as she leaned into the mic, her voice hoarse but full of excitement. “Thank you, LA! You’ve been amazing tonight!”

The band exited the stage to thunderous cheers, and you joined them backstage, where the energy was still high. Jinx whooped loudly, throwing her drumsticks in the air and catching them before spinning to hug Caitlyn, who laughed and dodged the full brunt of Jinx’s excitement.

“That was insane!” Jinx exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Best crowd yet!”

“Easily,” Caitlyn agreed, still grinning.

Vi slung an arm around Sevika’s shoulders, her expression smug. “We crushed it tonight.”

“Always do,” Sevika replied coolly, though her slight smirk gave away her satisfaction.

You hung back slightly, letting the band revel in their success. It was a reminder of why they were so good together—the chemistry, the camaraderie. Even Sevika’s cocky demeanor felt earned after a performance like that.

“So,” Vi said, turning to the group with a mischievous glint in her eye. “What’s next? We’re in LA, the night’s young… I say we hit the club.”

Jinx’s eyes lit up. “Hell yeah! Let’s do it!”

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, though her lips twitched in amusement. “You’ve still got adrenaline to burn off, don’t you?”

Vi turned to you then, a challenging smile on her face. “What about you, Y/N? You in?”

You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options. On one hand, clubbing with a rock band wasn’t exactly your usual scene. On the other hand, you couldn’t deny that the idea of letting loose after the day you’d had sounded… tempting.

“Why not?” you finally said, shrugging. “Someone’s gotta make sure Jinx doesn’t end up on top of the bar.”

“Hey!” Jinx protested, though her grin said she wasn’t offended.

Vi laughed, clapping you on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit! Alright, people, let’s get to our hotel, change and get fucked up. Tonight’s gonna be one to remember.”

As the band dispersed to grab their things, you found yourself lingering near the stage exit. Sevika walked past, her smirk firmly in place as she tilted her head toward you.

“You clean up alright?” she teased, her tone playful.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see,” you replied smoothly, matching her confidence.

Her smirk widened, but she didn’t respond, leaving you with a curious flutter in your chest as she sauntered off.

This night was definitely going to be interesting.

As soon as you and Caitlyn got back to the hotel, the two of you dove into your suitcases, rummaging through outfit after outfit for the perfect look. Clubbing in LA wasn’t just a night out—it was a statement. Caitlyn settled on a sleek, black jumpsuit paired with combat boots, her look effortlessly cool as always.

You, on the other hand, had your sights set on something bold. After trying a few options, your eyes landed on the black strappy top, leather skirt, thigh-high stockings, and platform boots tucked away in your suitcase. Once you slipped it on and adjusted the straps to fit just right, Caitlyn gave you an approving whistle.

“Well, someone’s definitely turning heads tonight,” she teased, leaning against the bedpost.

You smirked at your reflection in the mirror, turning slightly to check the back. “You think?”

“Oh, I know. Sevika is going to lose it when she sees this.”

The two of you finished getting ready, sharing excited chatter about the night ahead. Instead of drawing attention by taking the tour bus, the group decided to order an Uber Black to keep things low-key—or so you thought.

As the sleek black SUV pulled up to the club, the flashing lights of cameras and the deafening screams of fans made it clear that your “low-key” plan was a bust. Paparazzi swarmed the car before you could even step out, their flashes illuminating the night as fans shouted your name and the band members’ names.

“Looks like the cat’s out of the bag,” Caitlyn murmured, adjusting her sunglasses even though it was well past sunset.

“Doesn’t matter,” you replied, stepping out with confidence. “We’re here to have fun.”

And fun you had.

Inside the club, the atmosphere was electric. The music thumped loudly enough to vibrate through your chest, and the neon lights bathed the entire room in vibrant shades of pink, blue, and green. You didn’t waste any time, heading straight to the bar with the group to take your first round of shots.

One shot turned into three, then four, and by the fifth, you were officially buzzed. The band laughed and cheered, hyping each other up as you all took turns ordering rounds. Vi was the first to drag everyone onto the dance floor, her infectious energy pulling you into the mix.

By the time the DJ transitioned to My Chemical Romance, your confidence had hit its peak. You climbed onto the table without hesitation, mic in hand as you sang along to every word. The crowd around you roared their approval, and even the DJ gave you a grin and a thumbs-up.

“Careful,” Sevika murmured behind you, her large hand steadying your waist. She stood close, her presence grounding you even as you swayed to the music.

“I’ve got this,” you replied with a playful wink, though you appreciated the gesture.

Fans in the crowd snapped photos of the moment, flooding social media with hashtags and captions speculating about the dynamic between you and Sevika. It wasn’t long before the night took a dramatic turn.

The energy in the club reached a fever pitch, and you were right in the middle of it all. Standing on the table, your confidence amplified by the shots coursing through your veins, you swayed to the music, your arms raised as you sang along to the DJ's playlist. The crowd below cheered, their phones raised to capture the moment, flashes lighting up the space like strobes.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Sevika making her way toward you, her towering frame cutting through the throng of people with ease. She didn’t look impressed—her brows furrowed, her jaw tight. When she finally reached you, she wasted no time, her large hands gripping your waist firmly.

“Alright, come down before you hurt yourself,” she said, her voice low but commanding as she steadied you.

You groaned, pouting down at her. “I’m fine, Sevika. Seriously. Let me have my fun!”

Sevika raised an unimpressed brow, her hold on your waist unwavering. “You might not care, but I do. Now, down.”

You huffed but allowed her to guide you down, her hands staying securely on your waist until your boots hit the floor. The warmth of her touch lingered, and you couldn’t resist teasing her, even as you stumbled slightly.

“When did you get so caring?” you asked with a smirk, brushing your hair out of your face.

Sevika’s lips twitched, but she didn’t rise to the bait. “You’ve had enough of the spotlight for tonight. Now behave.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “You’re no fun.” With that, you headed back to the bar, brushing off the attention as you ordered yet another shot, determined to keep the night alive.

As the hours wore on, the club became impossibly packed. Word of you and your friend’s presence had spread like wildfire, and the space was now teeming with fans trying to catch a glimpse of the band. The once vibrant atmosphere now felt claustrophobic.

Caitlyn, ever the level-headed one, noticed the shift and knew it was time to call it a night. She signaled to the group, her phone in hand as she ordered a car. “Alright, let’s get out of here before this gets out of control.”

Reluctantly, everyone began to gather, though it was clear the alcohol had taken its toll. You were more than a little drunk, laughing at everything and swaying slightly as Sevika grabbed your hand, pulling you through the crowd. Paparazzi swarmed the group the moment you stepped outside, their cameras flashing like fireworks.

While the others kept their heads down, trying to maneuver through the chaos, you basked in the attention, smiling and waving despite Caitlyn’s exasperated look. “Y/N, keep moving!” she called over her shoulder.

You giggled, letting Sevika tug you along. Her grip on your hand was firm, grounding you as the two of you finally made it to the car. When you climbed in, it was immediately clear there weren’t enough seats for everyone. Caitlyn took the passenger seat while the others crammed into the back.

“You’re on my lap,” Sevika said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

You didn’t hesitate, settling onto her lap with surprising ease. You leaned your head against the back of the passenger seat, closing your eyes as the gentle hum of the car lulled you into a daze. Sevika’s hands rested lightly on your waist, her touch oddly comforting. You didn’t care—your drunken state left little room for embarrassment.

The others were loud, laughing and joking as the car sped toward the hotel. Vi was hanging halfway out of the window, yelling into the night, while Jinx snapped blurry pictures on her phone. Caitlyn, ever the responsible one, shook her head at their antics but couldn’t hide her small smile.

When the car finally pulled up to the hotel, Caitlyn took charge, helping everyone out one by one. You leaned heavily against her as she guided you to your room, her patience unwavering despite your drunken giggles.

She eased you onto the bed, pulling off your boots and tucking you in before lying down beside you with a tired sigh. You turned toward her, your gaze hazy but affectionate as you grabbed her hand, pressing a sloppy kiss to the back of it.

“We’re locked in, you know that, right?” you mumbled, your voice slurred but earnest.

Caitlyn chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You only do that when you want to tell a secret. What is it?”

You giggled, your cheeks warm. “I wanna fuck Sevika so bad.”

Caitlyn groaned, though her smile betrayed her amusement. “Of course you do,” she muttered, shaking her head.

You grinned, unbothered. “Your turn. Tell me a secret.”

Caitlyn hesitated for a moment before sighing. “Fine. I’m in love with Violet.”

Your eyes widened slightly, but your grin only grew. “I’m not surprised. I see the way you look at her, Cait. You’re so obvious.”

Caitlyn laughed, squeezing your hand. “Secrets locked in.”

“Secrets locked in,” you echoed, your voice soft as sleep began to pull you under.

The two of you drifted off together, your quiet confessions lingering in the stillness of the room.

The harsh light streaming through the curtains woke you up first, followed closely by the incessant buzzing of your phone. Your head pounded, a dull ache that reminded you of every shot you’d thrown back the night before. With a groan, you rolled over, reaching for your phone on the nightstand, only to see the screen lit up with a flood of notifications.

Your phone was practically vibrating off the surface with the number of missed calls, texts, and alerts from various apps. Blinking through the haze of your hangover, you squinted at the screen.

37 missed calls.

62 unread texts.

“[Y/N] trending on Twitter.”

Your stomach dropped.

The first thing you opened was your messages, and right at the top was a slew of texts from your manager, each one more frantic than the last.

Manager 👹: “Call me. Now.”

Manager 👹: “Why am I waking up to THIS?!”

Manager 👹: “This is going to blow up even more if we don’t get ahead of it.”

Manager 👹: “PLEASE CALL ME ASAP.”

You groaned, already dreading the conversation, but curiosity got the better of you. Opening Twitter, you braced yourself for the chaos.

The first thing you saw was an article headline:

"Rockstar Sevika and Influencer (Y/N) (L/N) Spotted Holding Hands and Getting Cozy at the Club Last Night—Are They Dating?"

The accompanying picture was from last night—Sevika’s hand on your waist as she helped you down from the table, your head tilted back in laughter, clearly drunk out of your mind. There was another photo of you two holding hands as she led you through the crowd outside the club, the paparazzi’s flashes catching every intimate angle.

You scrolled down to see countless tweets from fans and gossip accounts dissecting every detail of the night.

- “So… are Sevika and [Y/N] a thing?? 👀”

- “That waist grab? HELLO???”

- “The chemistry is unreal. I’m shipping it.”

- “[Y/N] is literally living my dream. I can’t even.”

You groaned, burying your face in the pillow. “Oh my god.”

Caitlyn stirred beside you, her own groggy voice cutting through the fog. “What’s wrong?” she mumbled, her face half-buried in the blanket.

You held up your phone without saying a word, letting her squint at the screen. She blinked a few times before her lips curled into a mischievous smirk. “Well, looks like you had a very eventful night.”

“You think this is funny?” you grumbled, tossing your phone aside.

“A little,” Caitlyn admitted, stretching. “But you did kind of bring this on yourself. You were all over Sevika last night.”

“I was drunk!” you defended, sitting up too quickly and regretting it immediately as the pounding in your head worsened.

“Drunk or not, the internet thinks you’re dating her now.”

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed again with yet another call from your manager. With a deep breath, you reluctantly answered, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Good morning,” you croaked, your voice still rough from sleep.

“Morning? Morning?! Do you have any idea how many damage control calls I’ve had to make already?” your manager’s voice was sharp, bordering on panic. “What happened last night? Why is half the internet convinced you and Sevika are in some whirlwind romance?”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s not what it looks like. She was just helping me—”

“Helping you down from a table while holding your waist and leading you out of the club hand in hand?” your manager interrupted, not buying it. “The pictures don’t scream ‘just helping.’ You know how people are going to spin this.”

“Okay, but we’re not dating,” you said firmly, though your cheeks heated at the memory of Sevika’s steady hands on you.

“Doesn’t matter. This is already everywhere, and people are eating it up. We need to decide how to handle this—deny it, ignore it, or lean into it.”

You groaned again, flopping back onto the bed as Caitlyn chuckled beside you, clearly enjoying your predicament. “I can’t deal with this right now. My head is killing me.”

“Drink some water and get it together,” your manager snapped. “I’ll call you in an hour. Figure out what you want to do by then.”

The call ended, leaving you staring at the ceiling, your phone still buzzing with notifications.

Caitlyn rolled over to face you, propping her head on her hand. “So, what’s the plan, superstar?”

You shot her a glare, but her grin only widened. “I hate you,” you muttered, burying your face in the pillow again.

But even as the headache and the stress loomed, you couldn’t stop thinking about Sevika’s touch—the way her hand had lingered on your waist, the steady warmth of her presence amidst the chaos. Maybe the internet wasn’t entirely wrong.

[little-miss-fandom-freak]

This isn't a request or anything I just had a funny thought but like, imagine if the Justice League finally got evidence that Y/N is innocent, and they tried to visit but Phosphorus is just. Booing and throwing trash at the League members. Y/N may join in also. Bonding time 🩷

Okay I know I need to be working on my other asks but I LOVE THIS

Dr. Phosphorus X Former Hero!Reader Pt 2.

Little note: I did want this to end on a happier note and I found it hard to be mad at Superman lol

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

You didn't understand why Superman and Batman were here in Belle Reve. You had assumed it was for some meeting with Waller until one of the guards approached you and your team.

"C'mon," She said as she lifted your shoulder, "you got visitors."

You looked around, completely confused. "Visitors? Who would be visiting me?" The guard didn't respond as she pulled you away from the table and put your hands in cuffs. He tried to shrug them off, determined to stay with you. You gave him a stern look, one that said 'don't do anything that will get you in trouble'. He sighed as he took a step back, letting the guards take you out to the courtyard.

You were shocked to find out that your former teammates were the visitors. You tried to dig your heels into the concrete, causing the gurads to struggle as they dragged you to them. "I have nothing to say to you two!" You yelled from across the courtyard.

They gave each other a look before Superman took a step forward. "Lose the cuffs, guys. She's won't do anything."

The guards looked to Waller for confirmation. She nodded, giving them permission to take the tight handcuffs off. You rubbed your wrist as the two approached you. "Leave me alone, Superman." You said with spite

"Look..." He started, clearly trying to find the right words to say. "I know there's no taking back everything that's happened these past few years, but I hope you understand why we did it."

"You mean how the whole team left me to rot in a cell, not even showing up for my trials!" You yelled.

"We wanted to, but it wasn't a good time. For any of it. You have to believe us." He pleaded.

"Why should I? It's not like you believed a word I said!" You sighed as you pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to calm yourself. "I hope you two didn't come all the way out here just to apologize and think I'll forgive you, cause there's no way in hell-"

"The court has decided to give you bail." Batman said, stopping you mid rant.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing right now. "Give me bail? Why?"

"While you were locked up, things changed. New laws were made, old ones were fixed, and your lawyer found new evidence to support your case. If you choose to go to trail and plead not guilty, there's a chance you'll make bail. And I would be happy to pay it, if you promise to return to the Justice League."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Back in the rec room, Phosphorus was standing on top of one of the tables that he had pushed against the wall, trying to get a view of what was going on outside. Nina and Bride had joined him; for Nina it was out of concern, for Bride it was simply because she was bored.

"What are they saying?" He mumbled, his grip on the bars tightening as he tried to listen.

"It has to be something about her case." Said Bride. "With how long she's been in here, and not a single visit before, there must've been a change."

Phosphorus didn't know how to take that. Was there more that you didn't tell him? Were more years added to your sentence? Are you getting transferred? Or worse, did they find you innocent?

The Bride side glanced at Phosphorus, a knowing smirk graced her lips. "You know, you're really bad at pretending you're not the "jealous boyfriend" type."

His head whipped around in her direction, his flames rose but she couldn't tell if it was from anger or embarrassment.

"I-I just- you- just-just shut up!"

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You thought for a moment, you weren't quite sure how to respond. "If I come back, I want a few things."

Batman scoffed. "Do you really think you're in the position to be negotiating?"

"I'll have you know, prison life hasn't been all that bad for me." You said with sass as your crossed your arms. "Once I got over the feeling of betrayal, I actually formed relationships with the inmates."

"Really?" Superman cringed at the thought. "But they're murderers-"

"At least they know loyalty."

"Barely." Batman shot back.

You gritted your teeth. "Task Force M has showed more loyalty to me than any if the Justuce League. I'm am perfectly fine with staying in here, you're the ones who want me back. So, do we have a deal?"

Batman glared at you before he made up his mind. "What do you want?"

You tense shoulders relaxed slightly. "My team, I want to be able to see them while I'm out. Not just visitation hours, I want them out of Belle Reve when I see them."

Superman and Batman looked at each other, before Batman looked to Waller. She shrugged. "Task Force M has been more well behaved than usual. If they can keep it up, I'm sure I can arrange something."

You nodded to Waller, silently thanking her for her cooperation. You turned back to the men in front of you. "Looks like I'm back."

A wide smile filled Suoerman's face. He rushed to you a scooped you up into a hug. "You have no idea how hard it was not to visut you, but we were under so much fire at the time. The governmentthought it would be safer if we temporarilydropped connections. "

You embraced the hug, realizing how much you actually missed your old team. Suddenly, you heard muffled yelling coming from across the courtyard. Looking to your left, you saw Phosphorus yelling something you couldn't hear but Superman could.

"Um, why is the glowing skeleton yelling at me to get my hands off of you?" He asked, clearly concerned.

You chuckled. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

Suddenly, several peices of trash came flying your way. Well, not exactly flying. They hit the ground several feet away from the three of you, but the action was enough to make the guards inside tackle your partner.

With a sigh, you removed yourself from the hug. "We should head back in."

As Waller and the guards led you all back inside, Batman came up beside you.

"Phosphorus? Really?"

You smiled slightly as you shrugged. "What can I say, he's got charm."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Yeah, it's called radiation. I don't think he's good for you-"

"Don't go all dad-mode on me Bats, we're still the same age remember?"

He scoffed. "And yet you're the one making juvenile dating choices."

"Uh huh, and how's it going with Selena?" You said with a shit-eating grin. He was quiet for a few moments.

"Fair point." He said, causing you to let out a laugh. As much as you hated them, and how long it will be before eyour relationships are repaired, you couldn't deny that you missed moments like this.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I hope you enjoyed this and if you have anything you would like me to personally respond to, message me or put it in my ask box because as of right now, Tumblr won't let me respond to comments :)

[tinyluvs]

⁺‧₊˚ smoke and mirrors 𖤐 swiss&mountain˚₊‧⁺

❥ summary; mountain is a little self conscious, swiss refuses to shut up about how perfect mountain really is, or mirror sex :3 ❥ warnings; anal sex, slight rimming, references to drugs, body worship (?), mirror sex, porn with feelings, idiots in love :) ❥ authors note; i don’t even know if like this anymore, enjoy !!!❥ wc; 5.4k ₊˚⊹♡⁺‧₊˚𖤐 read on ao3; ˗ˏˋ ꒰꒰ here !! ꒱꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𖤐˚₊.⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

smoke and steam collide in the air in front of mountain’s face as he exits the bathroom, steam pouring out from the humid room behind him while smoke billows from between swiss’ lips where he lays on his bed, his attention turning from his phone to mountain, half lidded eyes watching him in the mirror

“hey pretty boy,” swiss hums, his voice low and dangerous like it often is when he’s high, or at least getting there. his phone drops onto the mattress somewhere as he bustles, leaning slightly on his side to continue watching the earth ghoul as he ventures further into his room

mountain had forgotten to steal clothes from swiss’ dresser before his shower, leaving him without any other option than to come out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped tightly around his bottom half. of course, swiss has seen everything that’s currently being hidden but those are different circumstances. regardless, swiss shamelessly stares at him, or rather more, his reflection, and mountain starts to heat up

a blush settles over his cheeks and he wonders if there’s any air left in the room at all. clean air, that isn’t milky with steam or smoke, that can filter into his lungs, which suddenly don’t seem to be filling up fast enough. holes burn into the back of his head as he reaches swiss’ dresser, tugging a drawer open in search of boxers, sweatpants, anything he can throw onto his body

“stop staring,” he murmurs as the red under his skin starts to travel down his neck, heating it’s path as it goes. he pulls out a pair of underwear and sweatpants, leaving them in a small pile on the top of the dresser while he searches for a shirt

swiss doesn’t stop staring, the holes in mountain’s head burning deeper and bigger by the second, “but how can i when you’re so handsome,” swiss teases, light and airy around a mouthful of smoke that coils up towards the ceiling

“i’m not,” mountain mumbles, pushing a drawer shut harder than he meant to, the entire piece of furniture tipping and bumping against the wall behind it. mountain whispers his reply, like he didn’t want swiss to hear it, though he does, he always does

a gasp escapes swiss before he can stop it, incredulous and over exaggerated, like he’s heard something terrible but in his opinion, he has, a sin slipped from mountain’s lips, “oh but you are,” he finally says, watching the way mountain’s tail bats around nervously under his towel

they’ve been through this thing, this game, this conversation, several times. swiss will make a positive comment about mountain, how he looks, his personality, anything and every single time mountain will disagree with him, completely unwilling to see himself as his pack mates see him

if you were to ask any of them they’d be quick to talk, beaming about how gentle and generous he is, how helpful and sweet or how handsome he is, desired by everyone that has had the pleasure of laying eyes on him and more often than not their compliments will be wrapped up with a gentle bow of love, all of them declaring just how much they love him

but, mountain will never accept any of these things, will brush them off, never once accepting a compliment that’s sent his way and that, in itself, no one would even consider to be one of his flaws because to them, he is without flaws, a perfect being in their eyes

“i’m not,” mountain argues back to swiss again, the blush fully blooming over his chest now. his search for a shirt goes forgotten about, his fingers busying themselves in a tray of rings on top of the dresser, swirling between cool metal while he attempts to distract himself from the conversation at hand

swiss sighs, not angry or with malice but slow and upset, something that settles deep in his chest with an ache, “mount-,”

mountain anticipates what is about to happen, what is about to be said and wants no part of it, “no,” he simply says, swiping the small pile of clothes from the dresser as he turns, refusing to even look in swiss’ direction before bundling himself back into the bathroom, the door clicking shut quietly behind him

it appears that there’s no air in the bathroom either as mountain leans against the door and wills his lungs to fill just enough for him to function normally. the clothes drop from under his arm, barely missing a puddle on the tiled floor as they fall into a heap next to his feet

condensation drips down the mirror, still fogged up and hiding his reflection from him, he prefers it this way though, not being forced to see the abundance of freckles that spread unevenly over his cheeks and chest or the way his antlers are slightly lopsided, one branching outwards while the other turns slightly upwards at the end instead

he’s not sure how long he stands staring at a blurred reflection of himself but if it wasn’t blurred it would be long enough that his brain would have completely distorted the image by now, twisting his reflection into something he wouldn’t even recognise but he would be convinced that it’s correct

gentle knocking on the door makes him jump, his body jerking as his head snaps away from the mirror, “mount, you okay in there?” swiss asks, his voice is gentle, steady and even but mountain flushes with the idea he’s made the multi ghoul worried, about him of all things

“u-uh yeah, i’ll be out in a minute,” he stumbles over his words as he turns, grabbing the pile of clothes from the floor as his towel takes their place. he hurries to dress himself, tugging boxers over his still damp thighs, the feeling makes him cringe but he refuses to make swiss wait any longer, let his concern build any further

when he finally opens the door he’s met with swiss, the multi ghoul leaning in the doorway with his head tilted and resting against the frame and a soft smile tugging at his lips, “hey,” he says, barely a whisper, his eyes never leaving mountains, though he doesn’t stare this time, his eyes fluttering shut in slow drawn out blinks

“hello,” mountain mumbles, his eyes tracking swiss’ hand as he pulls it out of his pocket and uncurls in the small space between them, palm open and facing upwards, an invitation. mountain flicks his gaze from swiss hand up to his face where the multi ghoul just nods, his hand making a slight grabbing motion in mountain’s peripheral

mountain drops his hand into swiss’, tension slipping away from his shoulders as swiss’ fingertips brush at his wrist. the feeling dances a line of being too ticklish but mountain likes it, his wrist getting heavier in swiss’ hold as he melts into the movement

silently swiss pulls on his wrist, not hard but enough to guide him out of the bathroom and towards his bed and mountain lets him, even as swiss turns them and walks him backwards until his calves are bumping the edge of the bed, prompting him to sit

he sits and looks up at swiss, who nudges his thighs apart to stand between them. smoke clouds around his head like a makeshift halo, which is ironic considering the tips of his horns are piercing through the thick air, creating clean lines in between the fog

swiss’ hands settle softly on the side of mountain’s neck, thumbs brushing the length of his jaw as he shuffles closer, close enough that the earth ghouls chin rests against the softness of his tummy, just under his navel, “so pretty,”

this time swiss doesn’t sound like he’s trying to prove a point, like he’s trying to convince mountain of it but instead like he’s thinking out loud, like his thoughts have grown legs and walked right out of his mouth before he could swallow them down and stop them

mountain chooses not to argue this time, so, he stays silent. his eyelashes kiss his cheeks and his fingers pick at a loose thread on the side seam of swiss’ sweatpants, content in his mates hold. swiss’ fingers drift from his jaw, sliding back to tangle into the hair at the base of his neck,

“you’re pretty,” mountain blurts awkwardly, one too many beats of silence between them that make his stomach knot but swiss smiles when he finally opens his eyes to look up at him and the knot unravels

“yeah? you think so?” swiss whispers, still smiling as he bends. the tip of his nose brushes against mountain’s before swiss tilts slightly to his left, lining their mouths up, hovering inches apart but he doesn’t act on it, not until mountain nods at his question and tilts his chin up

something swoops low in mountain’s belly when swiss kisses him, it always does but more often than not they’re caught up in a haze of lust, nipping and grabbing at each other so mountain has never had the time to fully process the swoop but while swiss holds his face so gently, like he’s terrified of breaking the bigger ghoul somehow, mountain feels it properly

he gasps softly, lips parted for less than a second before swiss is slotting between them to kiss at his bottom lip slowly. mountain’s back straightens, electric zapping up his spine while he pushes up into the kiss, his fingers pinching and pulling at the side of swiss’ pants

both ghouls' hands start to wander when swiss licks across mountain’s lip, tasting earthy in that way marijuana does and it’s all too enticing for mountain, a soft groan spills from his mouth. his fingers slide up the sides of swiss’ thighs until they reach his hips, squeezing lightly at the same time swiss squeezes at his shoulders

swiss isn’t sure if he pushes or mountain pulls but either way he ends up in the earth ghouls lap, his thighs pressing to mountains hips while mountain tugs him closer, arms looping around the multi ghouls back

“you’re,” swiss pauses, a little breathless as he breaks their kiss, “so fucking pretty,” he finishes, spoken like a mantra against a smattering of freckles just underneath mountain’s jaw. his lips trail further south, dancing along mountain’s neck and the top of his shoulder

mountain hums in a noncommittal way, neither agreeing nor disagreeing as his head tilts back to bare more of his neck to swiss. he starts to soften with swiss’ weight on top of him, slouching until he’s toppling back and dragging swiss with him, both of them bouncing lightly when mountain’s back hits the mattress

when swiss eventually pulls back from mountain’s neck, satisfied with the few purple marks he’s leaving behind, he looks blissed out. his lips are kiss swollen, shiny with spit and his eyes, which have started to redden around the edges, are somehow lit on fire with lust and twinkly with love, both at the same time

“look, how good you look right now,” swiss hums, sitting back on mountain’s thighs. the earth ghoul is splayed beneath him, antlers digging into the bed sheets, his hair a little tousled from swiss’ fingers, hazel green eyes blinking up at him in a question, swiss thinks he looks divine, “look,”

swiss takes hold on mountain’s jaw, turning and tilting his head until he’s looking back slightly over his shoulder and then, their eyes meet in the mirror. in the back of his mind mountain thinks the mirror has been moved, repositioned just for this, but he doesn’t have time to think as his cheeks start to heat up again

gently he tries to shake swiss off of him, allow himself to turn away from the mirror but swiss holds his jaw and his eye contact in their reflection. mountain lets his eyes wander a little, taking in swiss more than himself

swiss is painfully gorgeous, his horns aren’t lopsided, both of them curling back and then up towards the ceiling, identical twins, unlike the siblings mountain has on his head. little golden charms litter swiss’ hair, always managing to catch a light no matter where he is but as mountain’s eyes travel further down, away from his face, swiss starts to smirk

mountain takes in his shoulders, broad and muscly. his chest, the little bars that pierce his nipples and further south, past the softness of his tummy and then following the line of hair that disappears under swiss’ trouser line…

only then does mountain notice the tent forming in the front of swiss’ pants, the earth ghouls head turning away from their reflection, as if it’s lying to him, to look at the real thing and swiss lets him, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his hips lightly

as he rolls his cock bobs underneath his sweatpants, a small, miniscule even, damp patch starting to darken the light grey fabric and mountain’s mouth waters. his fingers move fast, sliding up swiss’ thick thighs and just as he’s about to get to where he wants to be, swiss wraps his fingers around his wrists

“wha-,” mountain whispers, blinking up at swiss and then back at where his wrists are being guided down to the mattress, either side of his head while swiss holds them there, “swiss,” he whines, bucking his hips up and nudging his own cock against swiss’ ass

swiss shakes his head, the charms in his hair tinkling quietly, “not about me,” swiss swallows, looking down at mountain while he does everything he can to not sit back on the earth ghouls, now, very hard cock, “just let me show you,”

before mountain can ask what he means, swiss turns his head again, bringing him back to looking in the mirror. he holds mountain’s jaw for only a second this time, satisfied he’s not going to bolt away from him, or at least he hopes he won’t because swiss is on a mission now

“let me,” he mumbles, pausing to swallow thickly, “show you,” he pauses again to kiss at the front of mountain’s neck, lips curling up when mountain groans right beneath his lips, “how pretty you are,” he finishes, eyes flickering up to make sure mountain’s still looking in the mirror

“okay,” mountain practically mouths the word, barely a whisper even passing his lips. he watches swiss shuffle back on his thighs, sucking in a breath between his teeth when the multi ghoul’s ass brushes directly over his cock

“good boy,” swiss praises, a low rumble that vibrates through mountain. the earth ghoul whines high, the desired effect swiss was going for as he lowers his mouth to mountain’s collarbone, immediately worrying the thin skin with his fangs. mountain whimpers when he starts to suck though, the swoop in his stomach returning as swiss works his way over his shoulders

a path of purple bruises mark out where swiss has been, starting on the earth ghouls neck, then travelling over his shoulders and collarbones and then swiss continues down, nipping teasingly at mountain’s nipples

mountain watches as he goes, see’s his own chest heaving, his stomach clenching when swiss sucks a bruise into his hip. watches his back arch as swiss drags his fangs across the lowest part of his belly, stopping briefly to nuzzle against the light hairs there and then unceremoniously, swiss gets off of mountain all together “lift up f’me,”

straight away his hips push up enough for swiss to tug his pants down. in the mirror he sees his cock spring free, hissing when the sticky tip slaps his belly, no doubt smearing precum over his skin, though at the angle he’s at, he can’t quite see

fortunately, swiss can see mountain’s cock, thick and fat where it lays against his stomach. the tip of his cock is flushed red, leaking pre into a little puddle and swiss can’t help himself. he swipes his finger through the mess, whistling low to himself as he does and then looks into the mirror to find mountain’s gaze already locked onto him

with a smile that’s all fang and cheekiness, swiss licks at his finger, cleaning it of mountain’s slick while the earth ghoul’s jaw drops, his eyes widening, “fuck swiss,” he whines, fingers twisting into the sheets

“uh huh,” swiss hums around his finger before pulling it from his mouth with a lewd pop. his tongue darts across his bottom lip, refusing to waste even a single drop of mountain, “you gonna keep watching for me?”

mountain nods, at a loss of what to say while he’s stuck, well, he’s not really. he could get up at any point but he doesn’t want to, especially not as swiss holds his gaze and slowly sinks to his knees between mountain’s thighs

“fuck, your thighs,” swiss groans, turning his head to lick a thick stripe from mountain’s knee, all the way up, his breath fanning against mountain’s heavy balls. the earth ghoul jerks a little, his own breath held in anticipation as he watches swiss’ head dip further down between his legs

the spade of swiss’ tail cuts through the air, catching mountain’s eyes and distracting him as swiss leans in and attaches his lips to the inside of mountain’s thigh, “shit,” mountain hisses, his hand shooting down to grab at swiss’ hair

swiss smirks against his skin, opening his mouth to lick and drag his fangs, red lines streaking up and down mountain’s thighs “pretty boy with the perfect fuckin’ thighs,” swiss sighs and mountain’s cock throbs, a little string of slick connecting the tip of his cock to the puddle just underneath it

in the mirror swiss reappears, his chin almost resting on mountain’s thigh, “pretty boy,” he moans, inching closer and closer to mountain, “with the perfect cock,”

mountain keens as swiss doesn’t give him a chance to process his words before he’s licking up the underside of his cock, from root to tip in one wet movement. his tongue swirls up and around mountain’s throbbing tip until he’s dragging his tongue against his slit

“swiss, f-fuck,” mountain pants, rolling his hips up to smear his cock against swiss lips, nudging them apart just enough for swiss to suck. a shudder wracks it’s way through mountain’s body, swiss watching in the mirror as it happens, the earth ghouls eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before he’s looking directly into swiss’ eyes

the fucker winks at him, swiss actually winks at him before starting to bob his head, inching mountain’s cock into his hot mouth all too slowly, the tip of his tongue tracing a vein as he goes

it’s no secret that mountain is big, in all senses of the word. his cock is thick and long, something that most struggle with. some only being able to suck him down half way, their hands jerking off what they can’t fit. but swiss always takes him to the base, opening his throat and breathing through his nose as it presses to the soft hairs around the base of mountains cock

“oh my, fuck-ing hell, swiss,” mountain chokes on his words, his cock kicking in swiss’ mouth as the multi ghoul nods his head ever so slightly, grinding the tip of mountain’s cock against the inside of his throat

swiss’ eyes start to water, a fat tear running down his cheek just as mountain pulls on his hair, pulling swiss off of his cock with a pop. drool drips from the corners of swiss’ mouth as he sucks in a breath, “y-your cock,” he all but heaves, “fills me up so fucking well,”

mountain cries, his eyes leaving the mirror as his head tilts back and his hips buck up. swiss smirks to himself in the mirror, one of his hands pressing to his own cock which, admittedly, is starting to ache. he squeezes lightly at himself through his pants while he waits for mountains eyes to meet his again

“hey,” swiss says after a minute, tapping his fingers on the inside of mountain’s thigh. the earth ghoul looks down between his thighs but swiss shakes his and nods towards the mirror, “there we go,” he chirps when mountain turns his head

the angle they’re at hides where swiss’ fingers are dancing up the backs of mountain’s thighs, pressing into his skin, “hold them,” swiss tells mountain but the earth ghoul stares blankly at him, his brain moving far to slow for verbal instructions

so, swiss helps him out. he pushes moutain’s thighs back and watches their reflection, mountain gasps and jumps, his own hands curling around the backs of his thighs to keep himself spread and presented nicely

truth be told, mountain’s neck is really starting to hurt but if he moves, swiss will move and swiss is looking at him like he’s prey, his final meal, something but swiss? swiss is watching mountain’s perfect little hole, shiny and dripping with slick as it clenches around nothing

“damn it, you’re perfect,” swiss growls, his brain unable to come up with anything softer or sweeter as he dives in, pressing his tongue flat against mountain’s rim, “so,” he pauses to pull back, just enough to spit on the ring of muscle, “fucking perfect,”

and then he dives back in, leaving mountain to wail as swiss laps at him. the tip of his tongue teases, around and around, just soaking him and getting him dripping with spit and slick. his fingers inch closer, slipping between mountain’s hole and his mouth, “fuck, give it to me, please,” mountain whimpers

“yeah? you need it that bad?” swiss teases, cocking his head to the side in the mirror but, he’s not really teasing because he’s already pressing the tip of his finger into mountain and as the earth ghoul relaxes, just like he always does, swiss’ finger starts to sink into him

“o-oh, swiss,” mountain whines, though he’s not really sure what for but swiss hums and presses his lips to mountain’s thigh gently anyway, “move or, fuck, do something, “swiss,”

swiss kisses his thigh once more and then starts to slip his finger out, right to the tip before pushing back in, both ghouls groaning over the slick wet slide of it. mountain clenches down hard, his thighs tensing in his palms as swiss starts to finger him open, a second finger already teasing to slip in next to the first

slick drips down swiss’ finger and into the palm of his hand and he groans, his cock spitting pre that soaks into his pants, “oh shit,” swiss groans, tipping his head back to the ceiling, which mountain see’s in the mirror though he can’t see why swiss is doing it

“another, gim-give me another,” mountain huffs, doing his best to wiggle his hips and press his ass into the fingers teasing around his taut rim. he’s about to open his mouth again, to beg for it but swiss gets to him first, pulling his finger out and as he slides back in, a second joins alongside the first

mountain’s cock jerks against his tense stomach at the slight stretch, his back arching a little and though he may never admit it, being made to watch himself being taken apart is curling a dangerous heat through his stomach at an alarming rate

“so good, so fucking perfect,” swiss mumbles, entraced by the way mountain’s stretched perfectly around his fingers. he twists his wrist just right, crooks his fingers just so and drags his fingertips over mountain’s prostate

a gurgle leaves mountain’s throat, his eyes pinching shut while swiss watches his reflection, his own cock throbbing at the whole scene. in theory it’s filthy but somehow between them it doesn’t feel that way in the slightest, it’s just swiss and mountain, his mountain

“please, oh fuck, yeah there-,” mountain pants as swiss taps and rubs at his prostate before starting to scissor his fingers slowly, “fuck me swiss, need it s’bad,” mountain rambles, his thighs starting to tremble, vibrate almost, in his hands

normally swiss would at least try and work a third finger in, get mountain nice and loose but swiss isn’t sure how much longer he can hold out and he imagines mountain is starting to feel the same way, judging by the endless stream of pre leaking from his cock, which has flushed a gorgeous shade of purple

“y-yeah, okay,” swiss murmurs, slowly pulling his fingers from mountain’s body, growling at the slick wet sound that comes with it. on shaky legs and achy knees he stands between mountain’s thighs, “get on your knees,” swiss rushes to say as he folds over mountain to kiss him quickly, his free hand going south to palm at his own throbbing cock

mountain scrambles while swiss shoves his pants down, kicking them across the floor before joining mountain on the bed, “no c’mere,” swiss groans and grabs at mountain. the earth ghoul had been on his knees, just like swiss had asked but he wasn’t facing the right way

it’s not quite manhandling but swiss is moving mountain to exactly where he wants him, lined up in front of him, mountain’s sweaty back against his chest, directly in front of the mirror “fuck, look at you,” swiss swallows, looking over mountain’s shoulder at their reflection

he looks a sight for sore eyes, his hair is well and truly messed up now but still, somehow, it looks right. his torso is littered with bruises and little red lines and scratches left by swiss’ fangs. his cock hangs heavy, still dripping and if swiss looks real close, he’s sure he can see it pulsing

“perfect,” swiss sighs, turning to nuzzle his nose just behind mountain’s ear, he presses a quick kiss there and then slides his palm up mountain’s spine, pressing down until the earth ghoul bends forwards, planting his hands into the mattress to steady himself. swiss grinds his hips forwards, loudly hissing when his cock slips against mountain’s ass, warm and so, so, fucking wet

mountain is once again forced to watch in anticipation, thankfully this time without an ache building in his neck. swiss grinds back and forth, one of his hands on mountain’s shoulder while the other wraps around his own cock. he taps the sticky head of his cock to mountain’s puckered rim and then lines himself up

“fuck, ye-yes,” mountain’s jaw hangs slack as swiss pushes forward, an extra stretch from the slight lack of prep but it burns just on the right side of pain. mountain���s heat overwhelms swiss almost immediately, the multi ghoul having to still with just the head of his cock splitting mountain open, “please,” mountain whines, not quite realising why swiss is stopping

“i will, just give me a second,” swiss whispers through clenched teeth but, mountain doesn’t feel very much like waiting any longer. slowly but surely he presses back onto swiss, sliding himself down swiss’ length while the multi ghoul grunts and digs his fingers into mountain’s shoulders, “fuck mount,” he nearly shouts

the wrecked sound they both make when mountain fully sits himself back on swiss is loud, rattling off all four walls in the room, “oh fuckfuckfuck,” mountain’s head hangs, his chin touching his chest while his body adjusts, thankfully he doesn’t move otherwise swiss might have accidentally cut this whole thing tragically short

swiss’ tail wraps around mountain’s torso, pinning their bodies together, forcing mountain upright against swiss as the multi ghouls hand snakes up his body, wrapping gently around his neck, his thumb and finger at mountain’s jaw, “look,” swiss whispers against his ear

with a little whine, mountain looks, immediately moaning when he does. swiss is watching him over his shoulder, eyes burning into his again but mountain doesn’t look away this time, even as a blush spreads over his face, neck and chest, “swiss, it’s bad luck to have a mirror facing a bed,” mountain points out, a little high and whiny with an attempt to grind his ass back onto swiss 

swiss chuckles against his shoulder, “well i’m feeling pretty fuckin’ lucky right now,” and then finally, he starts to move, slowly albeit, shallow thrusts that barely grind his cock into mountain but neither are particularly bothered, groaning and panting loudly at the slightest movements.

“fuck me, properly,” mountain asks after a minute, feeling maybe a little bit bold but the way his cheeks burn regardless isn’t lost on swiss. mountain wraps a loose fist around his own cock, humping his hips forwards and that jumpstarts swiss, the multi ghoul pulling back slightly before canting forwards to meet mountain’s thrusts in the middle

“you, are, so, fucking, perfect,” swiss chants, each word punctuated with a thrust that mountain feels in his chest, air being punched from his lungs every time their bodies meet with a clap of skin on skin, “perfect boy, my perfect boy,”

tears slip from mountain’s eyes, his free hand reaching back to slide around swiss’ thigh, squeezing tight and grounding himself, “yours,” he repeats with a cry, his hand practically flying over his sticky cock as he hurtles towards his orgasm

swiss tuts, shakes his head in the mirror, “my what?” he asks before sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes flickering down to watch his cock slipping in and out of mountain’s tight clutch, “say it mountain,” he prompts and sinks his weight into his knees, tilts his hips up just right and on the next thrust he nails his cock right against mountain’s prostate, “say. it.”

mountain sobs, “i-i’m yo-, oh fuck,” he trails off into a whine, panting and shaking as his hand jerks over his cock with earnest. swiss presses his fangs to the top of mountain’s shoulders, eyes burning into him in the mirror, “fuck swiss, ‘m gonna cum, ‘m gonna fu-cking cum,”

“not until you say it,” swiss huffs, willing his own orgasm to hold off for just a minute even though it’s right there. swiss’ hand slides from mountain’s neck to his hair, pulling back enough for swiss to get his teeth dragging against his neck, “say you’re perfect, say you’re mine, then you can cum,”

“fuck!” mountain shouts, squeezing his eyes shut and letting fat tears drip down his cheeks, “i’m yours, i’m yours, your perfect boy,” he rambles through a heave and swiss growls, doubling down before he even finishes the sentence

swiss fucks into him hard and maybe a little too fast, causing mountain to hold on, his fingers digging into swiss’ thigh more than enough to leave dotted bruises, “fuck yeah you are,” swiss groans, listening to the little ruined sounds mountain’s making, “gonna cum f’me?”

mountain nods, as best he can with swiss’ hand wound tight into his hair but words are useless to him, just a myriad of garbled sounds tumbling past his lips. he clenches impossibly tight around swiss, a little close to shoving the multi ghoul out completely but swiss drives forwards, bumps the tip of his cock against where mountain needs him most and they both fall

“fucking, oh fuck, shi-t mountain,” swiss rambles when, in the mirror, mountain’s cock starts to squirt, thick ropes of cum splashing over the bed in front of them, soaking puddles into the fabric, “o-oh fuck,”

swiss’ cock twitches deep inside mountain and then the damn breaks, spilling hot and entirely too fast as he does his best to fuck mountain through it, “oh, oh fuck, oh,” mountain shudders with overstimulation, his body feeling like a live wire as swiss’ cum floods into him with each little thrust 

eventually the little humped thrusts stop, both boys spent and panting as mountain sinks back against swiss, his head rolling back onto swiss’ shoulder. little puffs of air fan over swiss’ ear as mountain whimpers quietly. a stray tear runs down the earth ghouls cheek though it doesn’t get far before swiss reaches up to swipe it away  

the tail holding their bodies together loosens and falls away, hanging limp behind swiss with little to no current purpose, “i love you,” swiss pants, his body bending as he rests his forehead between mountain’s shoulder blades, “perfect boy,”

mountain nods, doesn’t argue, doesn’t even want to as their bodies sway together, “i love you too,” he confesses what swiss already knows, quietly, while swiss maneuvers them into a sort of pile on the bed, their faces towards each other, no mirror in sight, “what?” mountain whispers when swiss smiles wide, all fang and teeth, his tongue peeking out between them

swiss takes in a deep breath and then peppers kisses all over mountain’s face, “perfect, perfect, mine, all mine, perfect,” he mumbles after every little kiss and then as swiss swoops in to kiss him properly,

“my perfect boy”

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! & comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah! send prompts to my ask box!

𖤐 ghouls masterlist 𖤐 lemme know if there’s any mistakes 😅

[ryssabrin]

i feel like people who don’t like solas or solavellan have such a warped perspective of what the romance is and how fans of it actually engage in it. like i’ve seen a lot of (most likely het dudes lol) on reddit say they tried it to see what the fuss was but felt it was “demeaning” and i’ve seen it described as literally a horror story where solas is manipulating and using and lying to a young impressionable lavellan who gives up her entire identity for him and becomes a complete doormat to all the awful shit he does. that’s never been my experience and i kinda just want to ramble about how i see it and what i find romantic about it?

so full disclosure, if veilguard had come out a few years ago with how they portrayed lavellan and solavellan i might have been pretty disappointed. i think there is a subset of the solavellan fanbase that likes the wolf/halla or student/professor thing and they play their lavellan younger and agreeing almost without question to everything solas says. i see the appeal but i never played my lavellan that way and i really like the dynamic of it when lavellan actually goes against his advice at times. solas is a character that needs to have his preconceived biases questioned. especially in inquisition when he’s still coming to terms with the fact that the modern people of thedas are in fact people lol. so i was concerned at the prospect of my lavellan being taken out of my hands and having to listen to her make excuses for him and submit to everything he says. (which tbf i don’t think is how she actually comes across in dav, but that was a worry.)

however when i replayed my canon dai run this year, i realized i was closer to the age i always saw my lavellan as (early 30s), and as my lavellan is probably the bioware pc i’ve always played closest to my own personality, i took the opportunity to tweak her a bit and make some different choices. i’ve (hopefully lol) matured and grown a lot since i was 24 and so rather than going for the snarky sarcastic cool girl vibes i opted to play her with more diplomatic and caring choices. it made me see the solas romance in a completely new light. rather than some sort of student/professor dynamic or a pride and prejudice-esque rivals-to-lovers vibe where lavellan is fighting for his respect the whole time, what stuck out to me was how much their connection builds simply because lavellan is kind to solas. she hears him out when he wants to give his opinions and advice, she respects his expertise on the fade and spirits, and she offers him comfort and friendship when she sees he needs it. she impresses him because he finds himself wanting to indulge in her closeness. he finds a connection to someone he never expected to and it makes him rethink everything about the broken state he put the world in.

it’s worth noting that lavellan is always making the first move. she kisses him first, she pursues him. he tries to brush off the kiss as a spontaneous lapse in judgement and she doesn't let him. he only ever gives in to her advances, he doesn't make them himself. he calls their relationship "selfish" on his end. he knows he shouldn't be encouraging her but he can't help but long for her companionship. that being said though if lavellan shuts it down he respects it. he probably feels a little relief because the temptation is now out of his hands lol.

i feel like there’s also this perception that he’s constantly shitting on the dalish while lavellan just has to put up with it and that alone is reason enough to find the relationship demeaning. he mentions the dalish in one optional conversation chain where you ask him for his opinion on the state of the elves and then in the balcony scene where he realizes he’s misjudged the inquisitor after his personal quest. in both instances, lavellan can stick up for the dalish. in the optional conversation, lavellan can say that if solas had a bad experience with a clan once (which we know from dav is exactly what happened lol), that she’d like to correct that misunderstanding about her people.

it's worth noting as well that lavellan doesn't know solas is the dread wolf when he's criticizing the dalish. from her perspective, he's essentially a city-born elf who had some dalish look down their nose at him for not being a "true elf" like they are, something that not only happens in canon throughout the games and lavellan would be aware of, but literally happens to solas specifically, right in front of you. he doesn't say a single word to mihris and she doesn't know a thing about him other than his face is bare and thus feels comfortable referring to him with what is essentially a slur. but rather than confront her directly about it he just passive aggressively speaks to her in elven almost exclusively for the rest of the quest lol.

far from the dynamic being that lavellan is just putting up with someone talking down to her about her culture, i think it's reasonable to see her view is more that they're both members of the same marginalized group, but from different cultures. his position in criticizing the dalish is not punching down it's lateral. she loves her culture, but is able to recognize it has flaws and not every member in it treats other cultures well, particularly even when they're from the same marginalized group. (and it's also just really meaningful that the first "flirt" option you get in the solas romance is lavellan recognizing that solas has put himself in a very vulnerable position as an elven apostate joining the chantry-led inquisition and with whatever power she has she will make sure that it's not held against him.)

i do think the writing conveys that he does have his mind changed about the dalish at least a little bit, but one of his pet peeves is when people are ignorant and refuse any information that challenges their worldview. as a manifested wisdom spirit, it is a particular sticking point to him to not be listened to when he is providing knowledge. i think criticism of how he is towards the dalish is lacking without taking into account his nature as a spirit. obvs we didn’t know that in dai but we do now. when wisdom isn't listened to it turns to pride. "i told you so," "i'll prove i'm right," "you should have listened to me," etc. etc. he got his feelings hurt when the dalish didn't believe him (and according to dav, literally tried to kill him) and his ego's held a grudge ever since.

when it comes to the vallaslin, to me it’s less about solas wanting to dismantle part of dalish culture (he offers no actual opinion on the dalish during that scene) and more that it clearly bothers him a lot that he fought so hard to free the elves from slavery and the one community of elves that’s closest to the descendants of the people he wanted to free still wears tattoos honoring the very tyrants he wanted to free them from. if lavellan says she wants to keep them and that the dalish reclaimed them and they mean something else to her, he doesn’t argue. i actually don’t like that solas’s post breakup banter with cole implies that lavellan thinks he might have broken up with her over the vallaslin. it’s putting thoughts in the head of my character that i personally don’t see her having. the way the breakup plays out, there’s not a single indication that it has anything to do with the vallaslin. i like to pick the “i believe in us” option because it shows lavellan having some idea that there’s something solas isn’t telling her and that’s the main reason he’s walking away. and the irony of course is that we learn in dav that that was the moment he came the closest to just giving up everything to just be with her.

so when i played through dav with my solasmance lavellan and she talks about what drew her to him it all just felt so right. he was kind and wise and sad but he made her feel like she was the only thing that mattered to him. (and that was very almost true!) there was a passion and intensity to their relationship that made her think he was the person she wanted to be with forever. when she says "i thought i would have followed anywhere he asked me to" you could read it as her saying she would have joined him in tearing down the veil if he asked and depending on your lavellan that might be true (though in the next bit she talks about how she would have been trying to change his mind anyways). but you could also read it as what her mindset was while she was with him during dai. before joining the inquisition, she knew him to be someone that traveled the world looking for lost secrets and history. why would she not have wanted to join him in that? is that not something you do when you're in love with someone?

something else that i find really compelling about solavellan is how solas relates to the inquisitor (not just lavellan) as a figurehead stripped of their personal identity. he knows from personal experience exactly what that's like. in the romances (not just solas's), the inquisitor is able to find someone that knows and cares for them for who they are, not what they represent. this aspect of the inquisitor's arc is honestly why i like keeping the vallaslin. my lavellan wants people to be able to look at her as the inquisitor and see a dalish elf. it's one small act of defiance and in reclaiming her own narrative. so thinking about what she might want to do after her responsibilities to the inquisition are over, it's reasonable to think she might want to just go wherever solas goes? because she loves him and feels like herself around him. even her asking him to let her come with him in trespasser feels more motivated by the fact that lavellan sees solas isolating himself and closing himself off and she's sad about it because she cares about him. that was why she wanted to grow close to him in the first place.

and i genuinely don't think it's all that wild that lavellan still holds a torch for solas 10 years later. i personally was friends with this guy in high school i always had a crush on, and towards the end of senior year it looked like it could actually end up turning into something. but then he immediately left for a summer abroad after graduation and eventually moved out of the country full time for school. we kept in touch off and on and caught up when he was in town, but nothing romantic ever happened. for years after i would catch myself thinking every so often what could have been and what he was up to. for solavellan, they were actually together. they had mutually expressed feelings and though their time together was maybe a few months at most, it was intense and passionate. they split up not because anyone's feelings changed, but because of solas's baggage. it's really not unrealistic for lavellan to continue wondering to herself what would have happened if he had been honest with her sooner. if she could have convinced him to change course. and it's not like she has the luxury of retiring and just not thinking about him anymore. that's not a conscious manipulation on solas's part to string her along, that's just the reality of their situation.

and even with all that in mind, in dav lavellan is still able to have the self-awareness to understand that the good in him that she believes exists and all that they had together and what she meant to him could all just be wishful thinking on her part. that she's giving him the benefit of the doubt "imagining his broken heart" when he doesn't deserve it because it makes her feel less foolish. she's not blindly faithful to him. i just loved everything about that scene and every word out of my lavellan's mouth felt spot on and perfect for how i saw their relationship. i could not have been more relieved lol.

as for the ending, i really really dislike the bad faith read that the only thing that matters is mythal and that he somehow loves mythal more and if that weren't true then lavellan alone would be able to convince him to stop. varric says about solas that he wants to be a hero, but it's easier for him to play the villain because it means he didn't fail, everything bad he's done is a choice. once you've done one bad thing, betrayed one friend, manipulated and sacrificed some pawns, committed one lil genocide, etc. lmao, it becomes easier to do it again. you've already crossed your moral event horizon and now you just have to find an end that justifies the means of all your misdeeds. what i've said about solas before is that what's frustrating is that he does genuinely feel remorse about the shit he does, but he needs to believe it's necessary and he will keep doing it. he needs to believe it will all be worth it in the end. it's not that he thinks feeling sorry makes up for it necessarily, but that he had to do it. he had to be the one taking on all of the bad things to hopefully one day do a good thing and it will all work out.

(as a side note when solas says "i would not have you see what i become" in trespasser i always thought that meant he was going to resort to some awful corruptive magic or something but it turns out what he actually meant was "i'm about to be a real asshole and do some incredibly awful things and i don't want you to see that side of me" which is much sadder.)

so when rook says "you don't have to do this" solas counters with "i've betrayed and fucked over and killed so many people who trusted me and if i stop i will have done that for nothing." so then the inquisitor jumps in with "as one of those people, i'm telling you that you can stop." but then we get to the heart of it. he thinks he failed mythal when she died the first time and was unwilling to listen to her as flemeth. he needs to make that mean something. he needs to justify to himself what mythal made him into. so he needs to hear from his mythal, not morrigan's mythal who has the benefit of the wisdom and hindsight centuries of living among mortals gave her, but his mythal, the one closest to who she was when she died that what he is is broken. that she's the one that broke him and he alone doesn't have to bear the weight of everything he did because of her. it's not about loving her, it's about the specific relationship he had with her. with that baggage unpacked, he's not only able to let go of his prideful need to prove himself right by tearing down the veil, he's also free to choose what he always really wanted: lavellan.

and still! yet again! he does not ask or assume anything on her part. she offers! of her own free will. something that really rustles my jimmies about a lot of solavellan criticism is that people act like lavellan has no agency. that she couldn't possibly make the choices she does of her own accord and it has to be solas manipulating her. that has never rang true to me at all. she always made the first move. i think this more uncharitable read might unfortunately be encouraged by how many actual solavellan shippers play into the wolf/halla thing but i personally don't think that's the dynamic that weekes actually wrote. it is lavellan that pursues solas, not the other way around. and weekes was honestly so careful in how they wrote the romance so that when solas's identity and plans are revealed, it doesn't feel like he intentionally tricked you or took advantage. i actually really like the ambiguity of whether or not they slept together because to me it does feel like that's a line solas wouldn't cross, but i get why that doesn't matter as much to other solasmancers.

i also think there's this perception that solavellan is a ship with an unhealthy power dynamic that needs to be "fixed" in some way or at the very least apologized for before you're allowed to like it. for me it's honestly kind of the appeal? not that there's some goofy dom/sub thing going on lol but that in spite of how "superior" solas may or may not feel to lavellan and the modern elves, he still falls hook line and fucking sinker for her. lavellan has so much more power in the relationship than she realizes. she changes his entire perspective on modern elves and his ultimate goals so bad he had a complete crisis of faith and had to run as far away from her as he could. how could he have broken the world so badly he needs to catastrophically break it again to fix it if it could create someone like her? someone he wants and cares for so desperately? it's the push and pull of him trying to stay away but selfishly indulging as long as he can that's so juicy to me! it's so good and i just wish other people could see that, even if they don't care for the character.

anyways. i don't have a conclusion. i don't want anyone to think i'm vaguing about them. this is honestly the result of some thoughts that have been brewing for a while and a lot of common criticisms i've seen over the years. i didn't want to respond directly to anyone in particular bc i learned my lesson about not doing that waaay back in the shenko fandom iykyk lol. i just really like the ship! i think it's tragic and romantic and lovely and poetic and mythological and all that good stuff. it humanizes solas as a character and makes me think about empathy and compassion and how much faith you can have in someone if you love them. or how it might feel to sacrifice love for something you think you need to do, only to ultimately realize you never did and find that love patiently waiting for you to get your shit together. or to love someone and know they love you back and that they love you so much they had to leave or they would have given up everything they thought they needed for you and then to be able to actually get through to them and get them back. "she could save him if he'd only just let her"! it's a very niche wish fulfillment fantasy and it's me! i'm the fan being serviced!

[monarisse]

— The Hex paradox [arthur nightingale x gn!drifter]

Arthur asks, why are you still here.

You can't believe that he thinks you see them as pets.

SFW, second pov, hurt/comfort, misunderstanding, angst with a happy ending | 3.6k

ao3

There is a flex of a hand — meat under the skin is terribly tense, just like their owner. Long unclipped nails, map of the old scars with pigment just a little bit lighter than everything else. Further: burn, raw marks from laser. Further: a contaminated virus from the elder beast of Deimos. Further-

This is just a body that holds your consciousness when there are no more metallic constructs of dead people that should be controlled. It was... actually, not so horrible to unfold the truth behind the creations of Ballas. Or others. There was always something more than you in these turned-to-be-bones metallic wires and engines. Always lurking in shadow; just not enough to be found, but enough to feel the sudden twitch of a cobalt fingers or unknown step of feet. Sometimes, even more: dance with a weapon, full of joy; murmur in an unknown language; search for something behind the back. Unnecessary. Unasked. Unprovoked. But... familiar, almost to the pain in your drifting mind.

It's ironic — that they all called you The Drifter. Not The Operator — not anymore, at least. Even if there was someone, in this time of the universe, who would gladly use this title on you, it would not be the truth. And you will not allow it. Hundreds of years after all of this, there would be a child with angry eyes and a thirst for power, who changed too much and too little to be completely you again. So you give them the future and keep yourself in the past — it seems right. Especially because (it's ill-fitting, it's wrong, and it's foolish, but deep down it's what makes them and you one person), The Operator can't travel here. They ask in rare times together how it was.

And for you, it's never "was." It's still here.

———

After winter, spring and summer together, they became steadier, softer. Smoother. Happier. Amir sleeps better. Angered only by some unnecessary presence before, now Quincy finds serenity, covering your back on missions. Aoi plays on the borrowed piano from the music store, and Eleanor whispers in your mind stories that she read in the past about Great Britain. Sharpened on the edges Lettie, today holds her hand to yours, so her beasts could crawl on the skin of this body with hushed squeaks, smelling with their little noses acid and kerosene, that scaldra pours on you every day. Lettie clicks her tongue in disappointment when she sees a new wound on the meat of shoulder — because in this body you can't heal as fast as they, and it's hypocritical to come out of frame when they're — the Mighty Hex, batch of soldiers of the future, your Friends, in the end — still here. And-

It's so. Fucking. Funny. A snicker falls from your lips before you can stop it.

Lettie furrows her eyebrows. In her eyes — something eats the previous light joke and fills it with thick tension.

"What did he do?" Anita squeaks, runs to her siblings, and you just blink.

"Who?"

Oh, it's not a secret. You... can guess who she talks about. And Lettie knows it.

"¡Pendejo! You know who. Don't play an owl with me."

Sharp teeth of the future crash into each other. Smile on these lips — sugary sweet from lies. This is not something new. How many people "The Great Hero" of the New War has deceived around the years of the Narmer regime?

"Nothing. Why you-"

She smacks your arm.

"Shut up. Don't want to hear your explanations. His brooding takes its toll on you," she painstakingly cleans her fingers from void-touched blood. From all of them, Eleanor is one who can feel lies, but Leticia is... another deal. She doesn't have the need to hear your thoughts. Magic of doctors, you guess.

It's strange that she cares about you. After all, these six are a team. And the seventh angle doesn't belong in the hexagon, even if it forces itself inside.

But, for Lettie, you let it slide. Hold her palm in yours and blink a little bit slower.

"I take care of that. Promise"

———

You know it — even too much of something good can be poisonous. Like trivia: this body was not ready for the delicious food that they have here, so on one night with beer and Hex you threw up in the bathroom on the second floor. But... Compare this and... your genuine worry for Nightingale seems like a wrong play of komi, where no one could win.

Worse: you remember Umbra. His blind eye and this wordless trust between him and The Operator. This wordless care that travels with them everywhere. How could you not feel envy when this child not only found the way from Zariman 10-0, but even saved the frame that could think without Tenno? Well, now you have protoframes. They joke with you in their bones, and they help you when it becomes unbearable — this world, this time, this loop. So why, when you stretch out your hand only how you can, it turns out... It is too much. Or too little.

And... what even happens in this thick skull of his, when he abruptly leaves a conversation on KIM, then agrees on Amir's play and, after... drowns you in questions?

Broadsword

So what is it? Pity? Or are you stupid as well as crazy?

Broadsword

Stop dodging! Why. Are. You. Still. Here?!

There is a reminiscence of a dull ache from Duviri. Another swing of an axe above the head. Endless swirl of colors. And buzzing in the skull. This body trembles, unable to comprehend all emotions from a feverish mind, and you pull your hand to clean your face from... something. Anything.

How could he even ask this shit? Like you some bystander that already left them after a week of knowing, just to start a new adventure far far away. Like you didn't search abandoned markets for his favorite beer, didn't bring special ammunition to Quincy, didn't practice with Aoi and Amir on the transmission of intel. Just some guest, not important to add in their ranks.

Nidus quietly shrieks when you transfer back to him. It is something of a habit. You can't even feel the exact moment when his broad frame already exits the backroom, too busy with boiling emotions inside your mind (the biggest question there: what if Kid would be able to help them without this mess of emotions. What if Hex liked the Operator more?).

Höllvania Central Mall never sleeps. Especially now, when there are not seven, but many more breathing shadows waiting for the other day to live, so... It is a little bit of awakening — see disbelief and caution in the eyes of bystanders when the form of Nidus makes his way from the second floor to the first in one jump. But still not enough to stop the heavy steps of the infested frame.

He's in his usual spot, crouched between some ammo for his rifle and computer, and Arthur... seems a little bit surprised. Like it wasn't you who he wrote just seconds ago.

Pity. He called your carefully crafted relationships with the Hex "pity." And you, yourself: crazy and stupid.

"You could just-" There is something more behind his dazed expression, some dark undertone, but it is not about him. Not anymore.

"How could you," Nidus freezes like a mannequin in the doorframe. This body constructs itself right against Nightingale; scarred fingers cling to his shoulder to feel something else beside the usual eerie words of KIM-messages and hushed phrases under the sick sky. His brows rise up even more now, "How could you even think of something like that!"

Arthur's lips twitch.

Prince of fire Lodun, in all his ugly glory, paints your mind with blood and red.

"It's bothering me already enough time to just let it slide," his words twist something in the pit of your stomach, and Lodun's voice screeches somewhere around the frontal lobe. He shouldn't say such words to you. It is blasphemy. Lie. His hand rips your own from himself almost like you hurt him, and the scar around the palm that he left you with starts to pulsate, "You walk around the Mall like everything is okay and we're not just some dead meat to your future."

He is poisonous. Some sort of divine punishment for you, as if you didn't suffer enough for years and years of survival. There are no more light jokes, no more strange, vigorous words with the undertone of something bigger. Only a stern glance on this body.

Prince Lodun fist his finger and crack another hole in your mind walls.

Body of the Drifter winces.

"Are you fucking kidding?" teeth clacks. The jaw's strained to its limit. All of this time together, just drained in the sink, "What do you think? That I stayed here just to forget about you all in the next minute?"

He doesn't need to say it aloud. The answer is written on his face already, and it's making Lodun more loud in your mind.

"How many times have you already done that?"

Lodun roars. This head is pounding.

"What?!"

It's unbelievable. He looks at you with such a sardonic expression, as if he knows that you did something so bad that you even can't stand with him in one room, and... you want to go right in his head to fucking show Arthur how terribly wrong he is.

The worst of all: he keeps going.

"It's convenient, isn't it? To play "friends" with people you can just leave behind," his grip tightens, and Arthur steps forward. A little more and it would become a fight.

You hold back. Just a little bit, but the patience in this body already wears itself.

"So that's what's stuck in your head?" You snarl, "Not bad enough, don't you think?" One step to him, and you feel — one more, and you can crash in his metallic chest. Eyes squint, "Make me a villain more, why not? Maybe I should take control of one of you and dispose of everyone else, huh?" Luscinia weeps in the corner of your mind with these harsh words, but you are unable to hear her — spiral of Loduns anger in its all-power captured you. There is something of a hurt in Arthur's face. But you only use his own method on him. It's almost like he didn't think of this — that you could use his friends against him or even make him a bystander in the nonexistent massacre.

"You can," his voice drops lower. Grip tightens even more — soon bones in this body would be broken by his fingers. "So I advise you to stop pretending like we're important to you," Nightingale bends his head, and you can see the hues of his blind eye for the first time, "and put us all out of this misery."

You're tugging this hand away — alas, it's not working, and a wave of dull pain passes through the body. He never thought that it was as hard for you as for them.

Luscinia crying. The Sorrowful Soprano of Duviri weeping like a mother who lost something too precious for her, and with Loduns anger, it's too much to feel in one moment. Your mind makes itself the battleground of the old Tales.

You want to say: maybe you're right.

You want to say: maybe I should just leave things like they are.

But... the Hex already made themselves important for you. So much that you gladly would stay here forever, with this ancient technology and people of the past. The Operator has their people. Why shouldn't you have yours?

You take a deep breath. Close tired eyes.

"If you think that I should go, I'll do it." There is something too heavy in these words, so you can't raise this head anymore, with your gaze a little bit blurry. Not from tears, "You all became too important for me, so if it would be better for Hex, I'll be gone to my time."

You know: without you, they will all be dead in the New Year of 1999. The reactor will blow up, and Arthur will bleed on the floor of the radiated room, near the bodies of Aoi and Amir.

And you can just feel the power of Spiral, to send it all back in January, to start again.

"Don't make yourself a martyr. You can leave when you want."

That's it.

You snap.

"My fucking Sol," you twitch this head, "you are as dense as Razorback," Nightingale becomes a little bit puzzled by the unknown comparison, but you continue, "What should I say? "Sorry, Arthur, I stayed here because I know that without me you all will die." Your voice becomes louder and louder; it breaks in some words, and you feel: the dam was broken, "And I developed feelings for you, and all of this embarrassing flirting was so bad because I had never done it before? You know, because I was trapped all of my youth in an endless loop of my own death, and I didn't even think that I could feel something like that"," his grip finally becomes loose, and you break the palm from him, only to point the finger at Arthur, "Everyone knows about it. I thought that you-"

Wait. You thought that he already knew about your feelings for him — it was so obvious that Eleanor even asked you not to think about her brother on united missions. But... You shut this mouth and looked at Arthur. He's... flagger-basted. No more anger in his eyes, only genuine surprise, and — worst of all — he continues to keep silent.

"Great," you roll this eyes. Fuck it. Maybe he knew, just feelings weren't mutual, and Nightingale didn't acknowledge it, to leave things as they were. But now you spelled it all aloud, and there is only one way to turn it back. Maybe... no. You don't want it.

Sol, you should just go to the backroom and decay in some corner.

You take a deep breath.

"I'll be going to throw up somewhere on the second floor from embarrassment," you transfer back to Nidus, "don't message me," and head towards the escalator.

Worst: he didn't even stop you.

———

Quincy screams in your comm and it's almost unbearable how he just throws a stash of Scaldra supply on the garage floor, just to head back to civilians in the old supermarket without another word to you.

Blew up the tank without care of flying too far away to not be hurt; melted one of the other stashes; almost got Kalymos dead. You've gone more hectic. But it's still better than lying on a couch with nausea and a sorrowful expression (it's still better than nothing — you remind yourself — you still feel something, and it's better than apathy).

Funny: if the Kid could see you, they would be furious. Throwing some tantrum about how such a mindless thing would wreck you, The Drifter, to some pathetic ordinary human. They were always like this: more hard than you, more prideful. They could chew Arthur's words and twist them so much that the man would not be sure what he even wants anymore. But the Operator is too far away. And you are too arrogant to travel back to them. Lotus would calm you down, embrace you in a motherly hold; however... you don't want it right now. One thing that surely helps: killing. Scaldra or Techrot — doesn't matter.

"I'm worried about you," tells Aoi when the sharp talons of Garuda give her a package full of CDs, "I heard your argument with Arthur." She seems a little bit sheepish, but... you know, that you actually can trust her. Of all Hex, Aoi is the most understandable. You can tell her all your worries, and she wouldn't laugh or write off your feelings. "It's hard with him sometimes, but Arthur cares about us all," of course he is, "you included."

You hum. The sound comes a little bit muffled.

"I'm sure." No, you're not, but there is no need to talk about it right now. Aoi squints her eyes in disbelief. "Sorry, Aoi. It's between me and him and i-"

"Drifter," his voice is too loud in Aoi's lair, but you don't turn to Nightingale. Maybe he will disappear if you don't acknowledge his presence. "We need to talk," Morohoshi shows some kind of gesture that you don't recognize, with her big finger pointed out, and she shakes her head, smiling.

If there were only two of you, you'd find a reason to just vanish in the air.

Damn. Why is it harder than killing an archon with a bow?

"Alright," you sign. Garuda turns around to Excalibur and he is already heading somewhere in an unknown destination.

What does he want to say? That he made a decision to stay with you on friendly terms so that you could save Hex's lives? That he'll save them by himself? Good luck with that. You'll still be here, even if he wants to banish you from others, just not in his line of sight. And when clocks turn 23:56 without catastrophe, you'll let them go and transfer yourself back to Loid, to solve problems of Deimos.

It's some sort of warehouse — you've never been here before, and it's strange how music from the hall becomes only disoriented muffles when Arthur closes the door. You stand a little bit farther from him than usual — not to make yourself comfortable here.

Arthur leans on some kind of cabinet.

Heavy silence falls on you two.

And when you think that this was a bad idea — to come here with him — Arthur starts talking.

"You know that all my life I was a military man," he spins that damn sword — Arthur's voice... not so loud. He speaks almost carefully, like his words already were chosen before this talk, and... you don't know what to think about. Emotion without name, without personification in Tales of Duviri, born in a pit of stomach, "and... I think I was ready to leave some things behind," he's not looking at you; his gaze stops on scratches on the floor, "because there was not enough time, or... I didn't try to understand others more."

You gulp. Garuda's scales tremble.

"And I tend to search for enemies where there aren't any." Finally, Arthur looks at you. There is more than tiredness from endless nights; quiet longing, a hint of uncertainty, something... tender.

He sighs.

"And," Arthur chuckles, and you grit your own teeth, thrashing about to step from Garuda or stay in her bones, "I'm not even entirely human. I mean, look at me," he gestures at the metal skin of his body, "not a usual choice of the mass."

Still, it's better to talk face to face. Especially on topics like that, you make a decision in one moment, to reappear beside him in another.

"Arthur," your own voice strained with hoarse hesitation, "you're a good person. You shouldn't talk about yourself like that." There is a hint of a smile in the corner of his lips, and Arthur blinks a little bit slower.

"You're always saying such things that give me hope." Spinning of his blade comes to an end, and the warehouse becomes more... steady. Peaceful.

Nightingale clears his throat.

"Did you mean it?" comes almost in a whisper, "that you have... feelings. For me."

You tear your gaze from him and put it down, not able to look in his eyes. Yes. It is definitely harder than killing an archon.

Fingers dip in the elbows.

"Yes."

Nothing more. Just a short, clear answer to put any misunderstanding behind.

Remarkably, the stomach stops swirling. All of this body became... calm, like all the worries just disappeared with this one word. Even if Arthur doesn't feel the same, you are glad that you two talked about it. Finally, you can open a new page in-

"It's mutual."

What?

You snap this head to him, and, for the first time in an eternity, you see Arthur smiling. Without some undertone in it, without pressure. Just a clear, happy smile on his scarred face, and you even see some little dimples on his cheeks.

And, maybe it's too early and you should wait some time to do such things, but these hands — your hands — reach out to him, to bury your fingers in his hair and press an uncertain but full-of-burning-emotions kiss to his lips.

It's raw — skin to skin, first too gentle to feel something more than the texture of others, but with every passing moment, all of this bottling adoration for him seeps through the motion. And Arthur answers you, laying his metallic palm in the crook of your neck, to deepen the kiss — he opens his mouth, presses you to himself more, to finally give you something that you wanted too long to confess.

In reality, it's still better than in imagination.

When there is not enough air in your lungs, when your shuddered inhale mixes with his own and both of you break away for a moment, you press your forehead to Arthur's, holding onto his shoulder.

"You know," he starts after a moment of silence, with a voice a little bit rough on the edges. You open your eyes and move your head a little bit to look at him once more. Cold fingers start to play with the strands of your hair. "If someone had told me that I would want to kiss someone from the future who trespassed my mind, I think I would kill them," Arthur breathlessly laughing and-

"Sol, you're unbelievable." You smack his shoulder and move to get out from his grip, but Nightingale presses you even more into himself, and you feel how his laughter starts to seep through your bones.

"You're stuck with me now. No refunds, sweets." Arthur pressed a chaste kiss on the crown of your head, and... you hug him, closing your eyes back.

The Harbinger of Joy, Mathilda, smiles for the first time in what feels like eternity.

[plaidcowboy]

༘˚⋆𐙚｡𖦹✧ rafe getting you a souvenir in morocco

✿ ۪⋆

content: wants to get the best for you. what he would do to get it..

author stamp: he was on a mission out there

“yeah, i’m safe. just got something i need to take care of right now” rafe responded to your question over the phone while shrugging on the coat he just bought. you were aware rafe was going off somewhere to handle something important when he informed you while also letting you know you could stay at his place until he got back. you knew he would be safe and didn’t have to worry, but either way you still called here and there to check up on him. how was it going? was it nice in morocco? you wanted to make sure you were using correct measurements while cooking. wanted to make sure it was okay for you to work on his laundry and that you possibly maybe accidentally shrunk one of his button ups. but you knew not to call too often because rafe would need to focus on completing what he went to morocco for.

“okay, great! i won’t bother you again for the rest of the day, but i just wanted to let you know i didn’t shrink anything of yours this time!” rafe chuckled, glancing at his surroundings. where off to next? he wondered to himself while you were babbling on about what you did differently to the machine when he spotted a stand where jewelry was being sold, a man behind it speaking to a customer. “that’s great, baby, good job. hey, what’s that metal you said you really liked for jewelry?”

you told him which was your favorite, not bothering to ask why, still giddy over rafe telling you, you did a good job. rafe knew that was your favorite, he’s seen it with the dainty necklaces you wear, but he wanted to make sure, wanted to make sure he was doing this right. only the best for you, and if you don’t have it, it just hasn’t been made yet.

“right, right. hey um, let me talk to you later, and don’t think i’m fine with you saying you bother me. i don’t like those words against yourself, and definitely not with me.”

you frowned behind the phone. “sorry rafe” you mumbled over the line. it sounded like you made him upset. you didn’t mean to..

“‘s okay, don’t let me hear that again.” you nodded quickly, forgetting he can’t see you through the phone. rafe, knowing you, knew you were nodding. “can i hear your words?”

“yes, i won’t say it again.” he watched the current customer at the stand walk away. “that’s what i wanna hear. i have to go now, call me whenever you please.”

you smiled at the reassurance. “okay rafe.”

he let you go, making his way over to the plethora of jewelry. his eyes skimmed over a few options, but nothing yet seeming just right for you. “uh..” he glanced up at the man. “this all you got?”

the man’s friendly smile dissipated. “excuse me?”

“hey, i’m not trying to insinuate anything. there’s something i gotta get. just let me know if this isn’t worth it.”

the man startled with wide eyes. “no, no. there is more back here” he discreetly tilted his head behind him towards a little opening.

rafe raised his eyebrow, assessing the opening and the man. he stalked toward him. “okay. but before i go in, i’m just letting you know, if you’re pulling some stuff, i can have this little stand shut down in a second.” he grinned at the now seemingly nervous man. “but until then..” he turned, walking into the opening. “show me what you got.”

he noticed the sets of jewelry lying about that seemed better quality than the ones on the stand. rafe chuckled to himself, seeing the man’s tactic.

he skimmed his thumb over his jaw in thought, picking up some pieces, putting them down, glancing at the man, knowing he wouldn’t dare pull anything. he looked back to a necklace that hung from a rack, grabbing it and pulling it closer to his vision.

“for a pretty lady, yes?”

rafe slowly turned. “what did you just say?”

the man hesitated. “the necklace? is it..for someone special?” rafe furrowed his brows. “yeah, it is. only dealing with you right now for her.”

the seller nervously chuckled. “they can be a bit demanding, huh?”

rafe lowered the necklace, giving the man the opportunity to stop while he was ahead. “not this one. i don’t know what you’ve got going on behind closed doors, and i couldn’t care less. now, how much for this?” rafe wanted to let it go. he had things to take care of.

the man, now more confident than he should be, approached rafe. “trust me, it’s all the same. tell me, is she..” rafe pulled the man by the collar of his shirt, halting whatever it was he thought he could say about you.

“are you kidding me? what makes you think you can say anything about my girl?” rafe frowned at the man in disgust.

“oh, i’m sorry” the man held up his hands. “here, i’ll let you take it, no charge” he hesitantly smiled.

rafe raised his brow. “oh i wasn’t going to give you anything. you’re not even in business.”

the man frowned in confusion. “what..?”

letting the man go, rafe pocketed your necklace, walking out of the opening. he glanced at the small sign that displayed open on the stand.

“hm” he flipped it around to closed. walking over to a nearby guard, he got his attention, throwing a nervous look over his shoulder toward the stand. “hey man, i just got propositioned to mess up business with these other stands by the man that runs that one.” the guard turned, looking to the seller that was now stepping out of the opening.

“yeah, him. he offered me like.. a load of cash. i don’t know what he’s on about.”

rafe watched the guard grab the attention of two others standing near him, and they made their way over to the seller, one seizing him by his arms, and the others packing away his stand.

rafe dropped the distressed look, feeling for the necklace in his pocket. only the best for you.