#i need to write something for these four........

[nevershootamockingbird]

[ Image One: An excerpt of text that reads "The useless jobs will add up to something. The shitty waitressing job. The hours writing in your journal. The long meandering walks. The hours reading poetry and story collections and novels and dead people's diaries and wondering about sex and God and whether you should shave under your arms or not. These things are your becoming."

Image Two: A poem that reads "WILD GEESE

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the cleaer pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountain and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting -- over and over announcing your place in the family of things."

Image Three: An excerpt of text that reads "I've a lot of feeling for you. You're kind. We'll kiss, grow old, walk around. Light months will fly over us Like snowy stars."

Image Four: An excerpt of text that reads "Not everything is an ending. Not anything's worth believing. And you can begin anytime like this whole world began out of nothing. You can walk out tonight and feel totally new. All you need is the right pair of boots."

Image Five: An excerpt of text that reads "And if you missed a day, there was always the next, and if you missed a year, it didn't matter, the hills weren't going anywhere, the thyme and rosemary kept coming back, the sun kept rising, the bushes kept bearing fruit--"

Image Six: A page of text that reads "Got up on a cool morning. Leaned out a window. No cloud, no wind. Air that flowers held for awhile. Some dove somewhere.

Been on probation most of my life. And the rest of my life been condemned. So these moments count for a lot--peace, you know.

Let the bucket of memory down into the well, bring it up. Cool, cool minutes. No one stirring, no plans. Just being there.

This is what the whole thing is about."

Image Seven: An excerpt of text that reads "There must be thousands of people in this city who are dying to welcome you into their small bolted rooms, to sit you down and tell you what has happened to their lives. And the night smells like snow. Walking home, for a moment you almost believe you could start again. And an intense love rushes to your heart, and hope. It's unendurable, unendurable."

Image Eight: An excerpt of text that reads "It is never too late to learn to love. But it is frightening." / End ID ]

you’ve still got time

tiny beautiful things, cheryl strayed | wild geese, mary oliver | anna akhmatova | tuesday, alex dimitrov | sunrise, louise glück | just thinking, william stafford | night walk, franz wright | why be happy when you could be normal?, jeanette winterson

[sweetheartbitesb4ck]

part one || this is part two || part three

Simon wakes up late, rubbing his eyes and groaning. Usually- because of his big, strong build- he would get away without getting hungover, but today felt different.

His eyes widen as he remembers the antics of the night before, peering down at the inside of his wrist and the smudged scrawl of numbers. "Fuck..." Ghost gulps, standing up from his messy bed and pulling open the blinds to the mid-day sunshine. Thank goodness it was the weekend.

After a moment of just standing idly, recounting the evening as well as questioning life choices, Simon glances at his phone, turning it on only to see the bombardment of texts and notifications. Most texts were from Soap and Gaz, begging for a follow up on the 'window lassie' but also multiple from his other mates (who Soap had obviously blabbed too about the encounter) pretty much pleading for information and context.

"Shit," He moans, grabbing on a T-shirt and fumbling the blurry number into his contacts. He didn't even know your name, let alone why he was quite so smitten with you. The soldier takes a while typing out and deleting messages, almost feeling panicky over what to send. Christ this girl is making me soft. He thinks, frowning slightly as he hovers over the send button.

'hi'

It had taken him four whole minutes to pluck up the courage just to send two letters. 'hi'.

What the fuck.

You look over at your phone as it buzzes, peering at the notification from an unknown number. You assumed it was the man in the mask- Simon- from the previous night.

'who is this?' you respond, clicking send without a second thought. You raise your eyebrows a little at the immediate response.

'Simon' You read his text out loud, laughing at how eager he must have been to reply so quickly. After adding him to your contacts under the name 'mask man (Simon)' you return to your conversation with the man. You giggle again as you see Ghost typing on and off for at least five minutes, spluttering as he finally sends 'U ok' three letters. No punctuation. Damn.

Simon perches on the end of his mattress, phone clutched firmly in his large hands. He was still texting you, freaking out a bit as he sees the three dots appear. He had that weird feeling in his stomach again... That unfamiliar (unfamiliar to Simon, at least) feeling that must be what other people describe as 'butterflies'. He stares into space, whole body jumping up as the phone pings.

'I'm good thanks'

'You?'

Ghost grins widely as he reads it, palming his face as if to switch back to a grumpy exterior. He couldn't fathom why he was getting so giddy over this girl and was even more surprised that he was this giddy without even drinking anything. (Not counting the night before, of course.)

'good'

You smile at his answer. You felt as if you knew this man you'd never even spoken to properly. Heck, you'd never even seen his face, but still found yourself blushing at the thought of him.

Taking a deep breath, Simon sends another text. Goodness knows how long it took him to write those three deadly words- 'are you free today?' He turns his phone off, tossing it onto the bed and pacing around the room for a minute. It was very cliché and comical, but very unironic.

When the mobile vibrates again, he throws himself across to the phone, heart beating quickly and face red with nerves.

'yeah. wanna get coffee or something?'

Ghost's reaction is the text book definition of a jaw drop, his eyes widening and pulse thumping in his ears. He jolts up again and starts rummaging through his chest of draws for any clothes that were somewhat decent. "I need new clothes, what the fuck is this shit..." He mutters, grimacing at the tatty old jeans and tops with weird and out of date slogans.

Unbeknownst to Simon, you were doing the exact same thing, grabbing out dresses and jeans and T-shirts and jackets, squinting at the old stuff you'd probably had since you were a teenager. You return to your phone, realising you hadn't proposed a time or place for meeting up.

'is 3ish good? The coffee shop along West Street?'

You can't help but feel a buzz of excitement as Simon replies with a thumbs up emoji, your whole face lighting up as you rush back to picking out a nice outfit.

All this for a man I barely know? You think, raising your eyebrows absent-mindedly. Sure. Why the fuck not.

At three, you stand outside the suggested café feeling way more anxious then you had expected to. You glance at your phone every so often, fidgeting with the hem of your jacket and gazing around at passers by trying to pick out your date from the crowds. Date? You thought it was a date, at least.

Simon rushes down the road, stuffing his wallet and phone into the pockets of the cleanest jeans he could find. He tugs on a jacket as he speed walks, also hosting a plain black T-shirt and the same skull printed balaclava as before. He figured he should probably explain the mask... just to ensure you didn't think he was a robber, or something sketchy.

Yet again, his heart starts to pound as he catches sight of you, his cheeks burning beneath the mask. He approaches you with a slower pace, trying to seem nonchalant. "Hi," He gasps, doubling over to catch his breath. Simon was usually a very fit man, what with his work, but the anticipation seemed to make him weaker.

"Hello," You respond, smiling warmly at the man. Still in that mask, huh? You think, raising your eyebrows and looking down as he gasps for air. "Are... you okay?" Stuttering slightly, you reach out, hand hovering over Simon's back unsure weather to pat it or hold him up or at least help him in some way.

"Sorry-" He grunts, standing back up and scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I ran," He gushes, trying to justify his panting.

"Oh..?" You nod, a bit confused. "Should we go in?" You ask, tilting your head slightly. Ghost smiles with his eyes and nods, tentatively placing a large hand on your back as you walk inside together.

here's the part two, hope you enjoyed it!

I'll do part three if you guys want! (I'll probs do it anyways bc what can I say, I'm kinda invested)

@scaleniusrm

[gyaruhana]

Can u please write wlw smut for my glorious queen se-mi player 380

Se-mi/Player 380 - hatefucking

Synopsis: You and Se-mi can't stand each other so what better way to deal with that issue then fight for dominance?

A/N: i did combine this with another request for hatesex bc they both were wuh luh wuh so.. hope you don't mind!!

Warnings: smut content, choking, degradation, slight fight for dominance, fingering, it's hatesex..

If there was one thing you avoided, it was arguments. You preferred to avoid making enemies because; what was the point? It was far better to make friends than enemies who’d plot your death on the daily. Friends would be there to make you happy and comfort you when you're sad. Enemies would just laugh at you and pull you further down into the depths of sadness. That's why you always opted for only making friends and allies.

The only exception to this little rule was her. Se-mi.

Se-mi had been getting on your nerves from the moment you had both spared a glance at each other. There was something about her that reeked of over-confidence and judgement. The way she would look at you with that smirk on her face as if she thought she was better than you. It pisses you the fuck off and all you wanted to do was punch her face in so she could never smirk or scoff at you again.

Whether it was for good or bad, Se-mi felt the same way. You were always so nice to everyone, even to those who didn't deserve kindness whatsoever. It pissed her off that you'd try to be friends with everyone. Were you naive or just plain stupid? Whatever it was, she didn't like it. You were so happy-go-lucky as if you weren't trapped in this hell hole where people are being killed left and right. She didn't trust you at all because you seemed like the type who'd willingly stab someone in the back sooner or later.

In short, the feeling of hate was mutual between you two and, everytime you were near each other, there was a silent tension of unspoken dislike. Neither of you had actually communicated your dislike through speech, it was all just glares from across the room and the purposeful avoidance of each other.

Today, you unfortunately didn't have the opportunity to avoid each other like you two usually opted to do.

It was the third game and it was called ‘Mingle’. It wasn't a difficult game as long as you weren't one to crack under the pressure of a short time limit. All you had to do was form a group of whatever number was called out and then run into a room with them. The first four rounds went well for you since you were friends with practically everyone here and could always find a group to join.

When the fifth round came, the number two was called and chaos broke out quite quickly as people realized not everyone will be fortunate enough to get a room. As chaos broke out and lights flashed, you found it rather difficult to see who was on their lonesome and needed a pair. Luckily for you, you managed to spot the tall silhouette of someone who was on their own so you ran towards them and grabbed a hold of their wrist, dragging them into one of the last free rooms. You quickly shut it behind you as you let out a relieved sigh - glad you managed to find someone before it was too late.  

When you turned around, you were met with the unimpressed face of Se-mi. You almost let out a groan of annoyance at the sight of her. Maybe you should go back out there and just get shot. At least then she'd die as well and you could rest peacefully knowing she'd never plague anyone with her ugly personality again. 

“I'm not happy to see you either,” she says as she folds her arms across her chest and leans against the wall behind her. You let out a scoff of annoyance as the doors finally locked indicating the timer was up. Considering you'd probably be trapped in this room for a while until they clear out the bodies, maybe now would be a good time to confront her about her behavior.

“What's your problem? You're always such an asshole to me,” you say as you step closer to her. Your words may have been slightly aggressive but you couldn't help it when she was around. She just naturally got on every nerve in your body. In response to your words, she pushes off the wall and uncrosses her arms to step closer to you.

“My problem? You're the one with the problem,” Se-mi spoke as she looked at you with annoyance. The audacity you had to call her a bitch as if you were any better. Seeing you like this made her believe all your kindness really was an act for your own personal gain. That only fueled her hatred for you.

“You're the one who's been glaring at me since day one. You're a total fucking dickhead with your arrogant attitude,” you speak as you point an accusatory finger in her face. You were sick of how she'd act and the way she'd judge everyone silently. She needed a wake up call or something so she'd stop standing on her high horse. After all, she glared at you first. What were you supposed to do? Let her treat you like that? Hell no. You might be all for making friends but that doesn't mean you'll back down when someone chooses to be your enemy.

Then suddenly, out of the blue - her hand wrapped around your throat and she pushed you onto the wall. “I'd watch your mouth when you speak to me,” she says with anger bubbling inside her. Calling her arrogant? Who did you think you were? Someone needed to put you in your place.

You were taken aback by the sudden violence before grabbing her wrist tightly and glaring at her. “Or what? What are you going to do about it? Kill me?” you spoke sarcastically. You didn't fear her at all or the hand around your throat. It's not like she'd kill you. She couldn't have the guts to murder someone. You knew her type. Assholes on the outside, total pussies on the inside. They all just made enemies with people they assumed were weak so they could act tough.

She was quiet for a moment as she thought about your words. She couldn't kill you, no. You wouldn't learn anything that way (and she might get in trouble for that). She'd have to take a different approach if she wanted to make you learn a lesson about your bitchy behavior and, thankfully, she knew just how to make someone learn a lesson. She smirked for a moment before nodding her head.

“I won't kill you, no. I'll teach you a lesson,” she spoke before suddenly pressing her lips to yours. Her hand stayed wrapped around your throat, lightly squeezing to serve as a warning. You didn't expect her to kiss you of all things. It left you frozen in shock. Her kiss wasn't gentle either. It was rough as if its purpose was to silence you. There was nothing loving about it and, strangely enough, you found yourself actually being turned on by it. You didn't have feelings for her, no. You hated her but you were stuck in a place like this with no guarantee of a tomorrow so maybe a little hatefuck wouldn't be a terrible idea.

“Fuck, you're a shitty kisser,” you speak when she pulls away. She lets out a bitter chuckle at your words and shakes her head. “Thought I told you to watch your mouth?” She said as her free hand trailed down to the waistband of your pants. Oh, Se-mi was going to make sure you submit and watch your attitude towards her from now on.  “You think I'll listen to you?” You respond snarkily. 

“Oh, you will,” she says, her hand making it to your underwear as she gently traces the fabric of it. She moves her hand beneath the fabric and gently feels your entrance. “You're wet. You're just a whore, huh?” she spoke with a mocking smirk. She found it amusing that you were turned on by something like this. 

You were about to make a quick comment in response when she quickly slid her index finger into you making you let out a moan. God, you didn't expect her to do that so suddenly. She was full of surprises today. You quickly recovered from the initial shock as you noticed the smug look on her face. It drove you insane. If she thought she was teaching you a lesson like this, you'd have to teach her one too.

“Don't think you're in control,” you speak before grabbing the back of her head and pressing your lips to hers. Se-mi would be lying if she said she wasn't a little taken aback by the sudden kiss. She had assumed you'd fold immediately but apparently you were much more of a challenge. She smirked into the kiss before pulling her finger out slowly and then teasingly thrusting it back in. You let out a muffled moan at the feeling as you bring your free hand to the hem of her shirt. You lift it up slightly before putting your hand underneath and slowly trailing it upwards. 

“Might want to try harder to please me. You do a poor job at fingering a girl,” you speak after breaking from the kiss. She shakes her head with the smirk not leaving her face as she starts to thrust her fingers in and out of you quicker. “Oh really? Your body says otherwise,” she says, her hand tightening around your throat once more to serve as a silent warning. 

“I'm not even close to getting to cum. Can't you do any better?” You say as your hand that had earlier slipped under her shirt pinched her nipple. She tensed for a moment as her breath hitched, making you laugh. “What? That sensitive?” You tease and she sends a glare at you. She could try to dominate you as much as she wants but you weren't one to submit so easily.

She suddenly presses her thumb to your clit and starts to rub it roughly. The sensation makes you lean your head back against the wall as you moan. “Seems like you're the sensitive one,” she says as she watches your reactions carefully. As much as you wouldn't ever admit it, she was actually quite good with her fingers. She knew exactly how to move them and get someone to cum quite quickly. 

“if we weren't stuck here, I'd show you how good I could really fuck you,” you speak with a smirk as you look back at her again. “sure you could,” she responds sarcastically as she continues to thrust her fingers at a quick pace. She could tell you were close now as she felt you clench around her fingers.

“You're close, huh?” she says, clearly mocking you. You laugh breathlessly as you shake your head and look to the side. God, she was still such a cocky bitch. You looked at her before pulling on her hair and glaring at her. “When I cum, I'll make you lick your fingers clean, yeah?” you speak and the smirk on her face seems to grow bigger. Fuck, she really didn't think you'd still be acting so dominant. It was actually turning her on more - getting to fight for dominance like this.

With a few more thrusts of her fingers you came undone with a quiet moan. She slowly pulls her fingers out of you and you don't waste a second to grab her hand and pull it out of your pants. “C’mon, suck,” you say as you bring her hand to her mouth, her fingers wet with your cum. She looks at you for a moment before slowly putting her fingers into her mouth and sucking them clean of your cum. She pulls them out of her mouth after a few seconds and, as if on cue, the door unlocked meaning the guards had finished cleaning.

You both looked at the door before looking at each other again. “If you make it out alive of this place, I'll have to fuck you on my dildo next time,” she speaks as she steps back from you. “Looking forward to it- seeing you embarrass yourself, i mean,” you respond before walking out without another word and leaving her alone in the room. She watched you walk out before scoffing.

“She better make it out alive,”

[cybrasigilism]

Thanos (Player 230) Smut Drabble

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warning: smut and all things of the like | lowercase intended | degradation | spanking | protection not implied (wrap it before you tap it) | PiV | reader has female genitalia | not proofread

character: thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)

A/N: thanks for 50+ followers! i appreciate each and every one of you so much :) i just wanted to say that i was thoroughly surprised with how many people wanted me to do a thanos smut drabble because i personally felt my writing for him was less than satisfactory, i’m just happy i was able to do him justice! also, my request box is open! if theres anyone you want me to write for please drop a request there!

MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, readers discretion is advised

you and i both know damn well that thanos, player 230 himself, is an absolute freak.

it doesn’t come as a surprise to any of his partners when he goes absolutely buck wild in bed, dude is willing to try and experience just about any and everything just as long as it involves him inside you.

need him to go down on you? you may have to pry him off if you want his cock because he will get lost in the pleasure. he won’t even just eat you out, he’ll suck and lick on your clit while fingering you, working at absolute god speed just to make you cum. need to dry hump? he’s more than willing to let you grind on his thigh while he kisses and marks up your neck, leaving a cluster of hickeys and bite marks in his wake. trust he will be pulling your hair back to ensure you’re thoroughly marked up, not a spot on your neck left unscathed by his mouth.

when it comes time for you to please him, he will grab a fistful of your hair and guide your head up and down his dick, and rest assured that you will without a doubt be deepthroating him. he’s quite vocal when pleasing you, sure, but when the roles are reversed and you’re doing the work on him? such slutty sounds have never before been expelled from human lips, he’ll go on about how good your mouth feels on his cock, how impressed he is with your ability to take the full length of him between your lips. oh and god forbid you lightly graze your teeth over his dick, if you plan on making him cum through a blowjob god please use your teeth.

“oh fuck girl, yeah..that’s right suck my dick just like that fuck” and “god if you keep going like this.. i dunno if i can take it, shit.” are both phrases you can expect to hear, that’s if he’s too far gone to focus on degrading you. if his thoughts haven’t been totally clouded by how good you’re making him feel, he’ll make sure to mock you and be kind of a dick about the whole ordeal. “finally putting that bitch mouth of yours to good use.” “awe, is it too much? can’t take it? too fucking bad.”

when it comes to actually fucking you, it’s face down, ass up all the way. you’ll for sure be leaving the situation with a bruised ass from how much he’ll be spanking you. the hair pulling carries over here too, he’ll pull you back into it while he fucks you senseless, whispering filthy things all the while.

will 100% call you his “personal cum dumpster” and the degradation does. not. stop.

“how does it feel, huh? to be on all fours like the little bitch you are for me? bet no one else could make you feel this good, huh?”

“fuck, you’re such a good cocksleeve, holy shit”

“god, moaning like such a slut for me, didn’t think you were such a needy whore”

when he’s not spanking your ass or pulling your hair back, his hands are firmly affixed to your hips with such fervour that marks being left behind would not surprise you. the twinge of pain that comes when he digs his nails into the grip is something you find yourself waiting for. he knows you love it, to be honest i don’t think he would do any of this if it didn’t get you as wet as it did. trust he will also rub your clit as he fucks you like this, when you end up cumming, it might be too much to handle with how this man attacks your senses from every angle.

biting, scratches, hair pulling, the whole nine yards can be expected when you let thanos use you like this.

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thanks for reading again! you know the drill, any advice/constructive criticism is appreciated and requested! i’m always looking to improve my writing, and of course, more to come :)

[iwasnotaslasher]

1. The couch.

2. All of them.

3. Normal.

4. Ironing.

5. Dishes.

6. A plant my husband gifted me for my birthday.

7. Maple syrup.

8. Reausable sponges.

9. Gardening.

10. Streaming.

11. The crib for our child(ren).

12. Four, all into the sink.

13. The vaccum's.

14. Very rarely, like once or twice per year.

15. Only the ones I know I need some stuff from.

16. A local café.

17. Chicken Run 2

18. Moderately pro.

19. No one in particular.

20. Homemade ragù, homemade popsicles, spianch, peas, precut vegatables (carrots, celery, onions and garlic) for making soffritto, fish fillets, a bunch of chinise food ready to be fried, a lot of minced game meat for our ferret, Sofficini (kind of panzerotti), some leftover henna from the last time I dyed my hair, flexseed gel little cubes (also for my hair), a tray of sandwiches left over from one of my kids' birthday.

21. Ligabue at Forum di Assago (Milano) in November 2023.

22. MD (kind of an Italian Aldi: medium quality, low prices)

23. Reausable bags, but sometimes biodegradable bags to reuse for the wet waste bin.

24. I wish.

25. Checking the weather in avance and organize the day accordingly.

26. Can't I do both?

27. I usually do all of them in the same night.

28. I'm the one sending them and I don't care if people don't like my kids.

29. I don't send them.

30. At least five, but I'm not sure.

31. Yes, she'll be 10 this year.

32. Green tea, hot, with a teaspoon of maple syrup.

33. Sailor Moon themed soda cans.

34. 20 minutes of farm fields (rice, corn, hay) between the small town where we live and the larger town where I work.

35. Water (we drink filtered tap).

36. Nope.

37. Sometimes; just not only that anymore.

38. The dryer's.

39. Cappuccino.

40. Absolutely grocery list.

41. A curtain hand embroidered by a great-aunt; I used it in my wedding gown as a "something old".

42. I'd really like to owne a Roomba.

43. Pride and Knots (an a/b/o retelling of Pride and Prejudice)

44. I don't know what it is (is it a USA game? I'm Italian).

45. Writing.

46. All the beverages (milk, juices, wine), butter, sodas, marmalade, medicines that need to be stored into the fridge.

47. Over head lightings.

48. A bed nook with curtains and stuff.

49. Not anymore, but I should start doing it again; it's very useful.

50. Aesthetically pro, practically anti.

51. Two.

52. Somehow better, somehow worse.

53. I don't know what are those (as I said, I'm Italian).

54. Yes, for Christmas; even if I'm not christian but agnostic.

55. Buckwheat cake.

56. Scrmbked eggs.

57. Dessert.

58. A trolley bag.

59. Jeans, sweatshirt and slippers? Yes.

60. I don't think we have a local weather reporter.

61. I don't do bunch.

62. Rougly on a 2.

63. I don't know what they are (again, Italian).

64. I don't have memory to have ever visited one.

65. Doing the dishes and going to sleep.

66. Last minute.

67. Only my husband.

68. Unscented.

69. Restart with my workout routine.

Ask meme for people in their 30s

What was the first piece of furniture you bought?

What proportion of your meals do you cook?

Foaming hand soap or normal hand soap?

Favorite chore?

Least favorite chore?

Most precious thing one of your pets has destroyed?

Any groceries you've been getting into lately?

What cleaning product do you swear by?

What's your emotional support craft?

Youtube, cable TV, or streaming?

What's something you saved up for and then regretted buying?

How many cups can you see from where you're sitting?

Which filter are you most likely to go "eh, it's probably fine" when you find out you need to change it?

How often do you take baths?

Do you go down each aisle when you grocery shop, or only the ones you know you need stuff from?

Where do you go when you need to get out of the house but it's raining?

What's a movie you saw recently that you liked?

Pro or anti tchotchkes?

What's your go-to tape?

What's in your freezer right now?

Last concert you attended?

Favorite grocery store?

Paper bags, plastic bags, or reusable bags?

Do you get your government mandated 8 hours every night?

Favorite old person activity?

Would you rather sit on the porch drinking sweet tea or sit by the lake drinking beers?

Do you prefer Boardgame Night, Build-Your-Own-Pizza Night, or Movie Night with your friends?

Be honest, do you like all of the pictures of their babies that your friends send you?

Go-to holiday card format?

How many pairs of scissors do you own?

Do you still own your first car?

How do you take your morning coffee/tea?

What's something you collect?

What's your commute like?

Aisle at the grocery store you never bother walking down?

Do you keep a daily journal or agenda?

Do you still listen to the same music you listened to in high school?

What's the last filter you changed?

What little treat do you always get when you run errands?

Grocery list or no grocery list?

What's the oldest thing you own?

What's an unjustifiably expensive appliance that you really want?

Favorite book you've read recently?

Honest feelings on Settlers of Catan?

What's something you wish you had more time for?

What kind of stuff do you keep on the door of your refrigerator?

Lamps or overhead lighting?

If you could build your home from scratch, what outrageous feature would you want to build into it?

Do you bring a bag with you everywhere you go?

Pro or anti throw pillows?

How many blankets do you keep in your living room?

Did your relationship with your parents get better when you stopped living with them?

What's worse, the DMV or the Social Security Office?

Do you decorate your house for holidays? Which ones?

Favorite high-effort meal that you make?

Favorite low-effort meal that you make?

Do you tend to bring an appetizer, entree, dessert, or drinks to a potluck?

What kind of bag do you use for your bag full of bags?

If you died and your ghost was stuck in the outfit you're wearing right now for the rest of time, would you be happy with it?

Do you have an opinion on your local weather reporter?

Do you have a favorite brunch spot?

Where are you on the minimalism-maximalism kinsey scale?

Opinion on Bath and Body Works?

Last time you visited a farmer's market?

Anything you're procrastinating on right now?

Do you get your taxes in as soon as possible, at the last minute, or late?

Do you keep any stuffed animals on your bed?

Are your garbage bags scented or unscented?

What are you looking forward to next week?

[bookofbonnie]

NEIGHBOURS: 2 - VI ARCANE.

Characters: Vi x Reader.

Summary: AU. You've settled into your new apartment and life with your new neighbour, Vi. It's domestic bliss until you notice that something is clearly going on with Vi.

Word Count: 2k+.

A/N: This is formatted and written really weirdly so, I'm sorry if it's hard to read. Anyways, I enjoyed writing the first one so, I decided to do a second part. Honestly, in my head, this is taking place in the 2000’s.

PART ONE.

Excluding the difficulties that came with the first day and a half in your new apartment, transitioning into life in your new home had come with a surprisingly, comfortable ease after that.

A huge part of that was thanks to Vi. 

During your first week of moving in, Vi found herself and her tools at your place more than her own as you settled in and discovered new faults and problems that she was more than happy to fix.

In return, you fed her and after that, the two of you found yourself falling into something of a domestic routine. 

Including (but not limited to) -

Collecting each other’s mail from the mailroom:

(Angel Face: Attachment: 1 Image. 1 new message. Did you know that despite marketing their packaging as discreet, sex shops still print their website in tiny print on the label? 

Bob the Builder: fckn kill me.

Angel Face: You have to show me what you got when you get home. Please and thank you!)

Carpooling where you could:

(Your keys jingle in the lock and you twist the door handle for good measure, making sure it’s locked when a low whistle comes from the end of the hallway. 

Vi emerges from behind her own door, gym bag in hand. 

“Cute leggings,” Vi comments with a grin, closing and locking her door behind her. 

The compliment has your cheeks heating up but, you cover it with something silly.

“Thank you,” you beam and begin hitting a few poorly executed bodybuilding poses for her. “I’m glad you noticed. They’re new.”

Vi watches, amused, as you continue to muck around with the poses when her mouth suddenly goes dry when you pull your too-big-T up and over your ass and hit another pose. 

She swallows thickly, eyes wide and focused on the curve of your plump backside

When you spin around, she quickly averts her gaze with a cough as you toss her your car keys.  

“They’re nice,” Vi catches the keys, ducking her head to hide her coloured cheeks before mumbling. “You should definitely buy more.”

“Hm?”

“Uh- nothing-” Vi fiddles with the strap of her gym bag. “Ready to go?”) 

Grocery runs together + shopping in each other’s pantries: 

(“This is a lot of eggs,” Vi comments, eyeing the crate of twenty-four. 

You breathe a half-laugh, “do you need eggs, Vi?” 

There’s a long pause and it prompts you to turn around from your position on the couch to where a contemplative Violet stands in front of your open fridge. 

“... Maybe.” 

You laugh, proper, this time and it sends a kaleidoscope of butterflies through Vi; she's committed the sound to memory but still she wishes she could bottle the sound and wear it around her neck. 

Vi steals a glance at you and you smile fondly at her with your head propped on the back of your couch, “take as many as you need.”)

Movie and weekly TV nights:

(“Finally! Hurry, hurry,” you usher Vi inside your apartment. 

“Live rewind only goes back 30 minutes and the show started 28 ago.” 

“Fuck, sorry, I didn’t realise I was that late,” Vi apologises, quickly kicking her shoes off and dropping her keys in the bowl. 

The two of you settle into your usual positions on your couch, you in the corner of your L-shaped couch and Vi at the other end with her feet propped up on the ottoman. 

You cast one last look between the TV and Vi, ready to hit play but you don’t because the way she sits slumped in her seat, feet on the floor, shoulders sagging and eyes glazed over doesn’t go unnoticed by you. 

“Hey,” you call softly. “You okay?”

 “Hm?” Vi blinks, taking a second to register your voice. 

“Yeah, yeah, let's watch,” she waves off your concern with a hand in the air. 

“Vi… you know we don’t always have to do these movie nights? Right? If you don’t want to… you can just tell me. I won’t be offended,” you offer her what you hoped was a comforting smile. “and I mean if something’s happened, you can talk to me… if you want .” 

Vi feels her throat clog because there’s genuine concern in your eyes and how is she meant to tell you that she just got into a huge fight because she wanted, chose, to be here with you tonight. 

She can't so she says-

“Just got into a disagreement with a-uh friend. It’s nothing, promise. Now hit play otherwise it’ll be you who makes us miss the first few minutes,” she finishes with a teasing grin and hoping you didn’t notice the way she stumbled over the word friend.

You did. But, you don’t say anything and, soon you forget about it all together because Tyler Lockwood just triggered his werewolf curse!!)

Taking turns to cook and having dinner together most nights - turns out neither of you knew how to cook for one person so, it was easier to just cook for both.

It’s how the two of you end up in Vi’s kitchen on a Wednesday night. 

Topic of conversation: family, parents, childhood and everything in between. 

You were both still learning about each other.

You learned Vi’s parents had passed away in the Zaun Revolution.

She and her sister, Powder, were adopted by her dad, Vander, who was an old friend of her parents.

They also had two brothers- Mylo & Claggor.

Vander raised them all with the help of another old friend of her parents, Silco. 

You recognised both of their names.

“Wait- how do you know who they are?” Vi looks at you with curious eyes. 

“Because, I’m from here? And I think I would know my cities leaders,” you say, laughing, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Wait- so you are from here?”

“Yes… have we not had this conversation before?”

"Nope," and Vi is pleased to learn that she was right about you, after all.

You were from Zaun, you just didn’t grow up in Zaun which is why she had never met you before.

Your parents were Zaunite scientists who initially worked for Former Councillor Heimerdinger at The University of Piltover but, following his retirement, they now worked for Councillor Talis and his partner, Viktor, so you had spent the majority of your life in Piltover.

Vi’s mood shifts at the mention of Jayce Talis.

“For Jayce Talis, huh?” Vi questions, casting a sideways glance at you. “He’s uh- he’s pretty close to the Kiramman’s… your family, are they um- like, close to any of them?” 

Vi doesn’t know why she asks that. (She does).

But there was no taking it back now.

She shakes her head at herself and peeks at you from the corner of her eye, hoping you don’t notice the odd question or the way her hand slows on dicing the last of the vegetables.

You don’t.

Not missing a beat, you fire up her stove, place a pan on top of it and answer her question.

“With Jayce? I mean, yeah? Sort of? My parents work for him so they’ve spent a lot of their time over the years with him in the lab but, they’re way closer to Viktor. Grew up down the road from each other and all that so, he’s practically family and well… Jayce is his family. They’re kind of a package deal, so Jayce is around a lot much to the initial annoyance of my parents but they’ve learned to indulge him.”

Finishing up with the vegetables, Vi turns to face you, leaning against the counter with her arms folded across her chest. 

Your eyes can’t help but stray for a brief moment to look at the swell of muscles in her arms that flex from the movement.

“Learned to indulge him?” 

“Yeah… I mean- he means well and he’s really nice but he’s still… unlearning some of his prejudicial misconceptions about Zaun and her people but... he's getting there,” you breathe a short, wry laugh. “Slowly but surely.” 

Your words hit a little too close to home for Vi and she clears her throat uncomfortably, pushing off the counter to start cleaning the bench so she can distract herself while you stand over the stove and cook. 

“And as for the Kiramann’s, I mean I went to school with Councillor Cassandra’s daughter, Caitlyn but-”

Vi drops the dish in her hand and it lands in the sink with a loud clang!

The sound makes you jump and you ask her if everything’s okay-

“Yeah, yeah, all good,” Vi wipes a sweaty hand across the back of her trackies with a nervous chuckle. “Just a slip of the hand- sorry, why are we talking about Caitlyn Kiramann?” 

Vi tries not to sound defensive, tries her best to sound casual but it comes out as anything but, her voice short and clipped.

You pause for a moment - was she... annoyed with you? - then breathe a sigh of disbelief, confused by the sudden whiplash- 

“Vi… you asked me about the Kiramann’s,” you remind her. “I was just answering your question.”

“I did?” 

“Yeah, you did-” you retort, feeling a little exasperated and desperate for answers because there had been a steady build up of- this.

Whatever the hell this was. 

After that night when she showed up late to your place, you noticed that something was off.

She seemed to be eating less, drinking more on the weekends and sleeping even less. 

Then there were the bruises and scuffs that were making more frequent appearances across her face and all over her body.

You were pretty certain those weren’t coming from the sparring matches she participated in, in the gym as she so claimed.

Despite all of that however, the routine the two of you had fallen into hadn’t changed- Vi was still showing up for you.

But... even you could see that it was becoming  exhaustive for her, light snores more frequently leaving her lips from where she’d laid her head on your lap only minutes into whatever tv show or movie the two of you had started but, every time you offered to cancel, she’d flat out refuse.

“Me? Cancel?” she’d scoff.  “And miss my favourite part of the day? Yeah, right, angel face. Not getting rid of me that easily” 

You had made it a point not to comment because you weren’t sure how’d she react if you began to more forcefully pry into her life considering she had already shut down your several attempts to check in with her before.

But, this time you don’t give her a pass.

 “Vi, are you sure everything’s okay? I just feel like you’ve been really off lately and you keep saying you’re fine but, you’re clearly not. You can talk to m-” 

 “I said I’m fine!” Vi snaps and you freeze.

The tension is palpable and hangs suffocatingly between the two of you.

Neither of you move.

Neither of you say anything.

Save for the water dripping from the kitchen faucet and the food sizzling on the stove, there is nothing but silence.

Vi stares at you wide-eyed and caught off guard by her own outburst and you blink back at her in surprise. 

You’re the first one to make a move- releasing a slow, controlled breath.

“I think I’ve overstayed my welcome,” you utter, removing the kitchen towel from your shoulder.

Your words breathe life back into Vi and colours her face with a molotov cocktail of emotions before she settles on a regretful grimace. 

 “Shit- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“I think you’ve had a long week, Violet,” you interrupt her apology and turn the stove off. “In fact, I think you’ve had a long couple of weeks and if you’re not going to let me in on your problems then maybe you should just leave me out of it.” 

With that, you leave without sparing her a backward glance. 

-

Everything would make sense the following Monday however, after a weekend spent at your parents in Piltover.

You would learn exactly what the problem had been or, who the problem had been, you should say.

You and Vi had never really discussed each other’s love lives but you figured she was clearly fucking someone/s (the sex shop order was a strap harness) and it led you to make assumptions about her. 

Assumptions that were inclusive of:

1. Vi didn’t have one (a love life) - not in a monogamous type way at least - because she never mentioned a girlfriend (why would she omit that, right?) and never brought anyone over.

2. Vi was a player, a serial sleep-arounder, ladykiller, skirt chaser, philanderer- whatever the hell people called it nowadays.

The point was, you found it hard to believe that someone as hot and kind and charming and smart and funny as Vi wasn’t getting laid and frequently - if she wasn't in a relationship then she had to be pulling an insane amount of pussy.  

But, as it turned out, both your assumptions about Vi had been very wrong. 

No, she had a third, more terrible thing going on…

An on-again, off-again girlfriend.

-

“Why are we talking about Caitlyn Kiramann, huh?” you cock your head at Vi with a raised brow from the bottom of the steps.

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

bookofbonnie 2025. All rights reserved.

[bellaxgiornata]

Five Minutes

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader Word Count: 4.4k [Jax Fic Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; Fluff, nervous!Reader, suggestive comments, & a slightly soft, flirty Jax

Summary: While out with your friends at a seedy bar in Charming, you manage to catch Jax's eye–and he's quite determined just to get you to talk to him.

a/n: I'm temporarily back in my Jax Teller phase at the moment as I force myself to rewatch Sons of Anarchy and actually finish the last season instead of trying to pretend the show doesn't end like it does. I'm just going to use fanfic to spare my feelings right now even though I don't usually write for Jax. It's been months since I've written anything and this was admittedly written entirely today, but enjoy! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Raising the bottle of beer to your lips, you took a pull from it as your eyes scanned the dimly lit bar around you. Stanley's was a hole in the wall type of dive bar–not the sort of place you generally found yourself drinking on a Friday night with your friends after work. It was a seedy place, and that was only made even more apparent by the impossible to ignore presence of the Sons of Anarchy.

There were five of them sitting at a table on the opposite side of the bar from where you and your friends were drinking, all of them wearing their black leather kuttes with their worn patches and matching hardened expressions. They were deep in discussion as they sat with a few questionable looking men and one gentleman in particular who looked far too nicely dressed to be sitting and drinking in a place like Stanley's. It was obvious that they were doing something illegal, conducting some sort of business boldly out in the open. 

Swallowing down your beer, you lowered the almost empty bottle back to the table and returned your attention to your three friends who were still in the middle of discussing Tabitha's breakup. Leaning forward and resting your forearms along the wooden surface, you felt it wobble beneath your shifting weight as you focused on the conversation once more. Though you had to strain to hear them over the rock music blaring through the place.

“It's his damn loss, Tab,” Sara said, her tone firm. “If Travis is going to sleep around on you, then you deserve better than his dumbass. He's not worth a single one of your tears.”

Monica was nodding from her place in the chair beside you, gesturing her glass of cranberry vodka at Tabitha. It was clear she'd already had a few too many of them since the four of you had arrived over an hour ago.

“That's right,” she began. “We aren't out tonight to drown your sorrows over that asshole, we're out to remind you that you're a beautiful badass and you don't need him. You can do better.”

An annoyed scoff left Tabitha in response before she rolled her eyes. “Because there's so many wonderful options of available men in Charming to choose from,” Tabitha replied bitterly.

Unable to fight the grin at her harsh but truthful comment, you let out a small laugh. “What? You don't like our options at tonight's wonderful drinking establishment? You've got so much to choose from.” 

Monica and Sara were quick to laugh, matching smiles spreading across their faces. Both of them openly scanned the bar around the four of you, their eyes taking in the varying men drinking around Stanley’s.

“Yeah Tab, you've got your pick of either emotionally immature or emotionally unavailable,” Sara teased.

“Or old enough to be your father, beer gut included,” Monica joked.

Swallowing down another sip of your beer, you smiled as all three of your friends laughed at the table, the mood finally lifting among the group of you tonight. Your eyes darted across the bar back to the table of Sons. The blonde one you knew as Jax Teller, their leader, was standing and shaking the overly dressed gentleman's hand now, clearly finished with whatever illegal dealings they'd been handling here.

“And let us not forget,” you added on, your eyes averting from their table and returning to your friends as you lowered your voice, “the option of criminal biker. A Charming specialty.”

Each of your friends laughed once more before sending wary glances across the bar towards the leather-clad men. The Sons' presence here clearly made the four of you uneasy–almost as if bullets would start flying at any moment. And with the way things had been happening around town lately, it didn't feel far out of the realm of possibility with them here.

“Let's be real, they don't know a thing about commitment, either,” Tabitha replied, sitting back in her chair. “Any one of them would still be far worse than Travis.”

“There's a silver lining, at least,” Monica said before taking another deep drink from her glass. She swallowed it down before continuing, pointing a firm finger in the direction of the bikers across the bar. “Anything in this town is better than a Son.”

“Doesn't matter anyway,” Sara chimed in, her eyes darting to the bikers’ table and then back. “We are not the kind of women who even register on their radars.”

Picking up your own beer from the table, you drank down the last of its contents as your friends began speaking in hushed tones, the topic quickly taking a turn to the rumors they'd overheard about the Sons’ clubhouse parties. Sliding out of your chair, you had already stopped listening. You'd never concerned yourself with the small town's motorcycle club before, preferring to stay far away from them and the trouble they caused, so you certainly weren't about to suddenly care about the gossip and rumors now.

“I'm going to grab another beer, I'll be back,” you told the others.

Monica sent you a smile, acknowledging what you'd said before her eyes returned to Sara who was now in the middle of animatedly telling a story that she'd overheard about the Sons. Not wasting another minute, you ducked your head and walked away from the table, making your way towards the bar. As you wove between the other tables with gruff looking men who were giving you looks that made your palms sweat, you kept your eyes averted from any of them, doing your best to ignore the curious glances and the occasional comment thrown your way.

Reaching the bar, you caught the bartender's attention and ordered another beer, dropping some cash onto the bar counter as you did. You watched as the bartender grabbed the bills before walking off to retrieve your drink, your fingers absently drumming along the sticky counter as you waited. 

A few feet further down from you, another figure sauntered up to the bar, casually leaning their forearms along it. Against your better judgment, your head shifted over your shoulder, your eyes drawn by the movement. You felt your heart accelerate, pounding a bit harder in your chest as you recognized Jax Teller standing there looking worn and irritated, a slight crease between his brows and a downward curve to his mouth. Immediately you glanced away, eyes focusing straight ahead of you as your body went tense. Unfortunately for you, the sudden movement seemed to have caught his attention. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw his head turn in your direction as if he'd noticed you looking at him, and then you could practically feel his eyes running over you. 

Swallowing hard, your fingers drummed a bit more anxiously on the counter as you internally pleaded for the bartender to hurry up and return with your beer. But just as he began his slow return towards you with your opened bottle in hand, the Son beside you let out a soft, amused huff before he took a few steps closer. He easily slid further down the bar, now standing with barely three feet of space left between the both of you. His proximity had your pulse quickening even more as you determinedly kept your gaze straight ahead. Maybe if you didn't look at him again he wouldn't speak to you. 

Though it didn’t take long for your theory to be proven incorrect.

“You look out of place here, darlin’,” Jax’s deep, smooth voice came from beside you as he leaned just a fraction closer.

Continuing to keep your gaze fixed ahead, you watched as the bartender wordlessly set your drink down in front of you before focusing on Jax next, a hint of trepidation on his face as he took the intimidating man's drink order. Not wanting to stick around, your hand darted out to grab your beer before you turned away from the bar. Pulling the bottle up to your lips, you immediately took a deep drink to offset the dryness that had settled in your mouth at Jax’s presence.

“You just gonna ignore me, sweetheart?” he asked, shifting along the bar to casually lean his back against it. “I'm just being friendly here.”

Pausing at his voice directed at you once again, you felt your body go rigid on the spot. Hesitantly, you threw a timid glance back over your shoulder at him and the sight had you stopping just two steps from the bar. He was resting against the counter with a mixture of amusement and mischief dancing in his blue eyes, a cocky smirk tugging his lips upwards at one corner. He looked completely comfortable and at ease now as he stared back at you, the faintest curious tilt to his head.

You’d seen the Sons often enough over the years since you’d lived in Charming. Their bikes were impossible to miss when they came roaring through the streets of the small town, and you’d often seen them around the clubhouse lot every time you drove past Teller-Morrow Automotive whenever you drove to and from work. The sight of these men wasn’t anything new to you, but you’d also never been standing quite so close to one of them before. Especially not Jax. The rumors you’d always heard about how handsome he was hadn’t remotely done him justice–he was somehow even more attractive than he’d looked from across the bar earlier. 

Jax Teller was…beautiful, if you were being honest with yourself. In a sort of rugged, dangerous way. The sort of way that had your heart hammering like a caged bird in your chest with his confident smirk, those engaging blue eyes which clearly held an endless amount of secrets, and that damn slicked back blonde hair that had your fingers itching to grab onto it and pull his face between your legs. 

As if he could read the thoughts racing through your mind, his smirk grew into a lazy smile, one hand reaching over and grabbing the drink the bartender set down beside him. His eyes never once left you as he watched you, the gaze not unlike that of a cat about to toy with a mouse. The look he was directing at you had you tightening your grip on your beer bottle, your palm dampening nervously against the glass.

“Come on, darlin’,” he tried again, slowly gesturing his head towards the barstool beside him. “Take a seat. I just wanna talk.”

“I–I don't think that's a good idea,” you stammered.

Taking another step to leave, you turned and made a desperate attempt to get out of his line of sight and back to your friends at the table, but you’d only managed that one step before his hand was lightly grasping onto your upper arm and gently turning you back towards him. Immediately you bristled at the touch, your body tensing as you jolted backwards and out of his reach. The smile on Jax’s face only grew wider, like he’d found your reaction to his touch entertaining. With his drink held in one hand, he raised both of his hands in mock surrender.

“Easy there, darlin’,” he drawled out, still grinning. “Just wanna talk. That’s all. Nothin’ else, I promise.”

Standing there with your heart thudding away inside of your ribcage, you tried to swallow back the lump forming in your throat. He was so damn comfortable and confident just leaning against the bar like that, it was only making you more nervous. What the hell did he want with you? You clearly looked nothing like any of the women you’d spotted hanging around the clubhouse whenever you’d driven past, he couldn’t possibly be thinking that he was going to take you home to his bed. Though the thought of that, of being alone with him like that , had your cheeks heating as your eyes darted down to the bottle of beer in your hands.

“I think you’d find I’m not remotely the kind of company you’re looking for,” you answered back, awkwardly attempting to avoid his gaze.

A low, rumbling chuckle fell out of him at your comment, the sound drawing your eyes back up to his. Somehow he just looked even more entertained.

“And what makes you say that?” he asked, that lazy grin still on his lips. “What kinda company do you think I’m looking for, sweetheart?”

The question drew the heat further down your neck, your whole body starting to feel like it was on fire now. You were absolutely not made for conversations with someone so straightforward and unflappable as Jax Teller. It seemed the more nervous you became, the more he enjoyed this unexpected interaction with you.

“Something more exciting than me,” you answered after a moment. “Look, I…have friends who’re probably wondering where I’ve disappeared to by now–”

“I’m just asking you to sit right here with me,” he said, cutting you off with a shrug. “Not trying to run off anywhere with you, darlin’.”

Closing your mouth at his interruption, you stood there for a long moment cautiously studying him. Why was he so damn insistent on you sitting with him and talking? What the hell did he want from you? Because it had to be something, right? There was no way he just wanted something as simple and innocent as a conversation. 

Turning just a fraction towards him, your brows drew together in confusion and contemplation, your question coming out just loud enough to be heard over the music in the bar. “Why? Why do you want to talk?”

Jax shrugged a single broad shoulder again in response. “Call it curiosity. You don’t look like you belong in a place like this,” he answered.

Your eyes narrowed a fraction at him in return. “Like I don’t belong in a bar?” 

A soft huff of laughter fell out of him before he shook his head, an almost boyish grin spreading across his lips as his eyes creased at the corners. “Nah, darlin’. That’s not what I meant,” he replied.

When you didn’t answer, his expression softened just a fraction as he straightened up against the counter behind him. His hand reached out towards you again and your eyes quickly darted down towards his ringed fingers, a look of fear passing over your face. Catching sight of your obvious discomfort, Jax’s hand hesitated in the space between you both before it slowly dropped back down to his side.

“Sorry, I forgot.” There was an edge of humor to his voice. “ You don’t want me to touch you. Gotta admit, I’m not used to that reaction from women.”

Clearing your throat, your eyes returned to his face. “Most women usually don’t like being touched by strange men at a bar,” you pointed out, trying to sound more bold than you felt. “That’s a normal reaction.”

The corner of his lips twitched again at your reply, as if he found your attempt at being firm with him more funny than anything. He nodded his head slowly before he spoke. “Yeah, suppose I’ve heard that.” His hand reached out to pull out the barstool beside him instead, dragging it over towards you before he gave it two gentle pats. “Come on. Just…quench my curiosity about why a timid thing like you is drinking in a place like this. I gotta know.”

Bottom lip rolling beneath your teeth, you chewed it in thought for a moment as your attention shifted down towards the awaiting barstool. Was that what he was after then? You just stood out to him and he wanted to know why you were here? That was all?

Cautiously, you turned further towards him, a wary expression still on your face despite the way the smile once more grew on his. An idea was forming in your mind, one you hoped would get him off of your back.

“If I talk with you for five minutes, will you leave me alone afterwards?” you asked, the question coming out of you slowly. 

Jax’s eyebrows rose marginally, almost like he couldn’t believe just how much you seemed to not want anything to do with him. One of his hands rose up from off the bar, his fingers running across his bearded mouth as if in thought while his eyes remained fixed on you in front of him. After a moment, he nodded once.

“Yeah, alright,” he answered, gesturing his head back towards the barstool once more. “You’ve got a deal, darlin’. Five minutes and then I’ll stop bothering you.” He paused, shooting you a handsome grin. “If that’s what you still want in five minutes.”

Eyes darting across the bar, your gaze landed over on your three friends still sitting at the table you’d left them at. They were all staring at you, watching you closely as if searching for some sign of distress considering who you were talking with. You gave them the faintest shake of your head to let them know you were fine before you took the few steps over to the barstool beside Jax, hesitantly lowering yourself onto it. He immediately shifted along the bar, resting his left elbow on the surface and leaning his weight onto it as he watched you take another pull off of your beer.

“Name’s Jax, but I’m guessin’ you already know who I am judging by the way you’ve been trying to scurry away from me this whole goddamn time,” he teased lightly. He jutted his chin at you, that hint of curiosity back in his eyes. “You got a name, darlin’?”

With your gaze focused on your beer bottle as you set it along the bar, your fingers fidgeted with the label along the bottle. The condensation on the brown glass already had a corner of it peeling off. Awkwardly you gave him your name, half of you wondering if that was even a good idea.

Jax chuckled in response, drawing his glass to his lips as he spoke. “Was expecting more of a fight from you on that, I’ll be honest,” he admitted, taking a drink before lowering the glass back to the bar counter. He took another step closer, leaning towards you when he spoke again. “So what exactly are you doing drinking at this shithole? Girl like you doesn’t look like she belongs in a place like this.”

Shaking your head, you glanced up at him beside you from beneath your lashes. If he wasn't some dangerous, playboy criminal you might have let yourself feel more flattered by his attention. Because you absolutely, definitely were not.

“No, I…generally don't come here,” you agreed with a small nod. “I uh…I'm out with my friends. One of them is going through a breakup. We didn't want to run into her ex while we were out tonight so…we came here tonight. Because no one ever goes to Stanley's.”

His blue eyes searched your face for a long moment as he let your response settle over him. Something about the intensity of his gaze mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke and leather emanating off of him at this distance had your stomach twisting nervously inside of you for different reasons than a few minutes ago. 

“Breakup, huh?” he mused after a moment. “Brought your friend out drinking to cheer her up. That's why you're here?”

“Yeah,” you answered quietly. 

He bit his lip, fighting back a smile on his face at your explanation. The sight had your eyes darting away just so you could control your breathing. He was quickly becoming intimidating for an entirely different reason now.

“Makes sense,” he replied. “Guess you’re right, doubt you’d run into anyone in this damn place. Though it…really isn’t the best place for a thing like you to be drinking with your friends.”

Grabbing your beer, you raised it to your lips for another deep drink. He was making you so damn nervous that you couldn't refrain from blurting your next words as you set the bottle back down. “I'm guessing you're not out here to help your friend get over a breakup.”

A wide smile broke out across Jax's face, the sight quickly followed by his deep, rumbling laugh. The sound was so unexpected and pleasant that it caught you off guard, a small smile slipping onto your face in return before you could stop it. 

“No darlin’,” he replied, still chuckling at the absurdity of the idea. “That’s definitely not what brought me out here tonight.” 

The smile lingered on his lips as he watched you, something impossible to read in his expression. There was a growing curiosity in his sharp, blue eyes the longer he stood beside you, though. The sight of it had you shifting on the barstool anxiously.

“I got a feeling you're not just the awkward and shy thing I first thought you were, sweetheart,” Jax mused, his voice dropping to something a bit lower. “Seems like there's more to you that you're hiding behind that deer-in-the-headlights look you keep throwing my way.” His lips quirked up into something mischievous as he continued. “Kinda makes me wonder…”

Brows immediately furrowing at the way he'd trailed off, you stiffened in your seat. “Wonder what?” you asked him cautiously.

Jax paused for a moment, that devious little smirk still on his lips. His left hand absently swirled his glass along the bar as he watched you closely, almost like he was studying you. Observing you. Trying to make sense of you.

“What I'd gotta do to get you to loosen up a bit,” he answered after a moment.

Something about the way he'd said that, all resonant and sultry, paired with his confident smirk that seemed to have a double meaning, had a shudder running through you. He was smooth– far too smooth. Despite the fact that you knew how dangerous he was, knew the type of man he was, you felt a warmth slowly flooding through you, one that wasn't related to nerves or alcohol. When he shifted beside you at the bar, his knee suddenly brushing along your thigh over your jeans, you practically jumped in your seat. 

“Relax, you're so on edge, darlin’,” Jax teased you, an amused huff passing between his lips. “I'm not gonna try anything. Consider me on my best behavior right now with you.” Jax paused, his gaze openly raking over you once more where you sat on the barstool, not even remotely being subtle. “Unless you ask me real nice, not to be.”

Almost instantly your eyes widened at his clear flirtation, your lips parting in surprise. That heat flooding you only seemed to be burning you up a bit hotter. Attention shifting back to the beer in front of you, your tongue darted out and dampened your lips in a nervous gesture. How in the hell was he affecting you like this? You should know better than to let a Son be chatting you up like this.

“You know,” Jax continued, taking another half-step closer to where you were sitting, “I’m not half as bad as you probably think I am.” He hesitated for a moment, making a slight face before adding on, “At least, in some respects. Just gimme a chance, sweetheart. Let me prove it to you.”

Eyes raising from the bottle of beer in front of you, your gaze landed on the clock on the wall behind the bar. It was well off by a half an hour from being remotely accurate, but five minutes had certainly passed since you'd sat down with him. As if he knew what you were thinking by where your eyes had shifted, Jax’s gaze followed yours to the clock. A moment later his attention returned to your face. Gradually your eyes landed back on him, watching as a lazy half-smile spread over his handsome mouth.

“Looks like my five minutes are up, darlin’,” he pointed out, leaning against the bar as he kept his eyes on you. “You're free to run back to your friends now.”

For some reason, you found yourself not immediately moving from your place on the barstool. He was right, you'd given him your five minutes to chat and quell his curiosity about why you were here. It was such a small thing for him to have wanted to ask you about, and yet somehow that had left you curious about him now.

“Or–” he said, breaking the mounting silence between you two as he raised his glass to his lips, pausing with it there as he continued, “–you can give me more than five minutes of your time tonight. Up to you, sweetheart. My evening is wide open at the moment.”

Sitting there, you watched as his lips wrapped around the edge of his glass, the dark liquid tipping back into his mouth as his eyes remained on you. Your hand gripped the neck of your beer bottle harder, your heart thrumming in your throat at the offer to stay and talk to him. You knew you shouldn't, you knew the smart thing to do was to get up with your beer and go back to your friends and forget this entire moment had ever even happened in the first place. Jax Teller was trouble. He wasn’t a good guy. He was a notorious playboy with a criminal record. But for some damn reason you couldn't move from your seat beside him. And that only had his smirk growing wider the moment he realized that you weren’t moving. 

His foot slid out, casually hooking around the leg of the barstool beside you before he pulled it out. Settling down into the seat and getting comfortable, one of his hands gestured at your beer that sat half-drunk in your nervous grip. 

“Why don't you finish that and I'll get you another, darlin’?” he suggested, arching one of his brows at you.

Slowly, you raised the bottle to your lips, drinking back more of the alcohol. Jax’s eyes creased at the corners as he leaned closer towards you, resting his elbows on the bar counter. 

“So, why don’t you go on and tell me more about how you’re not the kinda company I’m looking for tonight, darlin’?” he teased, that infuriatingly handsome smirk slipping back onto his lips.

[sulumuns-dootah]

This might not be very good request but it seems adorable in my mind…falling asleep on the kings? Maybe watching a movie or something and we just conk out. This may come from the fact that I’m a hardcore Leviathan hater but I feel he’d push us to the ground 😪

Falling asleep on the WHB kings

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The moment Satan notices you're out, he looks down at you and can't help but smile

You look so peaceful which is a welcomed change from the constant stress of angel attacks

He'll try to lay still for you, but can't promise anything

If he needs to move, he'll first try and test to see how deep asleep you are before picking you up and moving you either to bed or back where you fell asleep

       ༺☆༻

This man is as comfortable as a rock

I know we technically slept on him in the main story, but c'mon... just by looking at him you can tell his muscles could cut glass

So if you happen to fall asleep on him, he'll remain unmoving

A part of him is giddy that you feel this comfortable around him and that you see him as your protector

       ༺☆༻

Now, Leviathan pushing you to the ground depends on how close you are

And since he even considered to allow you to watch a movie with him, I'm guessing you're kinda closer

Okay so, if you fall asleep on him, he probably won't mind right away

But he won't try to be still for you either

He'll pretty much ignore you

At least until he has to get up or something

Only then he'll push you off and whether it's gently back onto the surface you're on or the floor depends on how close you are

       ༺☆༻

Another one that I'm not sure how you fell sleep on

Staying still is damn near impossible for Beel

And honestly, 0/10 would recommend falling asleep on him even if you could

Like the jokester he is, the moment he sees you're asleep, he's getting the marker out and doodling on your face

Honestly, I'd say the only time you're safe falling asleep from his shenanigans is after getting your insides rearranged and Beel feels all lovey-dovey

       ༺☆༻

Let's be honest here

Belphegor is the first one to fall asleep

So you can safely fall asleep too

And if do happen to beat Belphie to it, he'll just chuckle

'Who's the slothful one now, huh?'

All in all very wholesome ♥

       ༺☆༻

Watching a movie?

It maybe started that way, but you surely don't end the evening that way

Over the course of the movie transitioned you from sitting next to him to cockwarming him and to making you bounce on his lap

So the only way you could pass out is from all the action

At that point when your body slumps down against his chest, he'll just continue fucking up into you and groping your body

Only after he finishes for the nth time, he'll check if you're okay and slip out of you to set you down to rest next to him

       ༺☆༻

Writing these last four kings is always funny bc of how they usually go back and forth :D

Lucifer is the exact opposite of Asmo

When you fall asleep on him, he'll try to move without waking you up so you don't have to sleep in such an awkward position

In moments like these, he also allows himself to get a bit more clingy and cuddles up with you more

Too bad you're not awake to feel all his affectionate touches and gentle kisses all over you face :(

[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.

[cruel-seduction]

Pleasure in Pain

Summary - You scored better than nerdy!Rafe, and he hated it. So, he decided the only way to fix that was to make you dumb—and there's only one way to do that, right?

Warning: Dark Themes, Intense Power Dynamics, Manipulation, Sub!Reader, Degradation, Humiliation, Smut (+18) mdni, Fingering, Dominance, Submission, Verbal Abuse, Mean Rafe, Rough Play, Kink Shaming, Explicit Language.

a/n - If you know who I am, you don't. You don't know me. Got it? If you are judging me after reading this cause Sneha fuck how could you write this. Just so you know idc fuck off.

Divider credit - @bernardsbendystraws

Your body trembled beneath him, thighs quivering as his fingers hovered so agonizingly close to where you needed him most. The air in the room was thick—too hot, too heavy—your mind swimming in a haze of desperation and frustration. You tried to shift your hips, just an inch closer, just enough to feel something, but his firm grip on her waist shoved you back into place.

"Don’t." His voice was low, sharp, laced with a mocking edge that sent a shiver down your spine. The smirk tugging at the corner of his lips was infuriatingly smug, his glasses slightly askew on his nose as he loomed over you. "Look at you. Squirming, whining, so goddamn pathetic. Thought you were supposed to be the smart one, huh?"

Your breath hitched, Your nails digging into the sheets beneath you as you whimpered, the sound only making his grin widen.

"All those perfect grades, but look at you now—cryin’ and beggin’ like a dumb little slut. What’s wrong, genius? Can’t figure out how to make me give you what you want?. Maybe you’re just a needy little toy waiting for me to put you in your place." 

You couldn’t remember exactly how you’d ended up here, sprawled out and utterly at his mercy. The last clear thought in your head was the smug satisfaction of seeing your name ranked higher than his on the test scores. That victory had been short-lived. Now, you were stripped down to nothing but a lacy bra, your panties shredded and discarded somewhere across the room, as Rafe loomed over you with a grin that promised nothing good.

His touch was maddening—fingers brushing too close yet never where you needed them, his calculated teasing driving you insane. Your hips bucked upward instinctively, searching for any kind of relief, but a sharp, stinging slap landed between your thighs, stealing your breath.

“Patience, slut,” Rafe growled, his voice low and laced with cruel amusement. The sound alone sent shivers racing down your spine.

Before you could respond, he flipped you over like you weighed nothing, positioning you on all fours. You felt the cool air on your bare skin, making you hyperaware of just how exposed you were under his gaze. Then, his hand landed on your ass with a resounding smack, the sting blooming into heat.

“Say thank you, whore,” he commanded, his tone as sharp as the slap itself. “After every one, you’re gonna thank me like the good little toy you are. Got it?”

You nodded hastily, but another harsh slap—this time directly on your dripping cunt—made you gasp.

“Use your words, filthy whore,” he hissed, gripping your ass tightly as if daring you to disobey.

Your throat tightened, the humiliation only adding to the unbearable ache between your legs. “Y-Yes, sir,” you whispered, voice trembling but dripping with arousal.

Rafe chuckled darkly, his hand trailing over your burning skin. "Look at you, all needy and dripping for me. Bet you didn’t even care about beating me—just wanted my attention, huh?"

After some time he was satisfied with spanking. Rafe leaned back to admire his work, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Your ass was flushed a deep red, his handprints stark against your skin, and your thighs were slick with evidence of just how much his torment had affected you. Shame coursed through you in waves—how could you let yourself feel this way? You hated the fact that every sharp sting, every degrading word, had your body begging for more. It felt filthy. Wrong.

But god help you, you didn’t want him to stop.

With a forceful grip, he flipped you onto your back again, the cool sheets brushing against your overheated skin. His dark eyes roamed your body, lingering on the way your chest heaved with every ragged breath. You knew what was coming, and the anticipation sent a thrill coursing through you.

In one swift motion, he grabbed the delicate lace of your bra and tore it apart, leaving you fully exposed. Your breasts spilled free, and before you could react, his hands were on you—rough and unrelenting. He kneaded the soft flesh, his fingers digging in just enough to toe the line between pleasure and pain. His mouth followed, latching onto your left nipple with no hesitation. The sharp edge of his teeth against your sensitive skin sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, and you cried out, the sound echoing in the room.

"Fuck, you sound pathetic," Rafe murmured against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers across your body. His tongue flicked over the abused bud before he bit down again, harder this time, and your moan turned into a desperate whimper. "Look at you, moaning like a cheap little whore. Is this what you wanted? Huh? To be fucked so rough you can’t think straight?"

You couldn’t answer, not when his free hand found your other breast, pinching and twisting the swollen peak until tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. The pain mingled with the overwhelming pleasure, making your head spin.

Your back arched, pressing into his touch as though you couldn’t get enough. The aching throb between your legs became unbearable, a fiery need that burned hotter with every cruel twist of his fingers, every sharp nip of his teeth.

"Rafe, please," you gasped, your voice trembling and hoarse.

He pulled back slightly, his lips shiny and swollen from his brutal assault on your chest. Both of your nipples were red and tender, the faintest brush of air making them sting. His eyes were wild with triumph as he drank in the sight of you—tear-streaked, desperate, and utterly at his mercy.

"Please, what?" His tone was mocking, dripping with condescension. His fingers trailed lower, skimming the sensitive skin of your stomach, deliberately avoiding where you needed him most. "Use your words, sweetheart. Or are you too fucked-out already?"

You swallowed hard, shame and desperation warring within you. "Please, Rafe. I need you. I need you to fuck me," you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of your need.

He chuckled darkly, shaking his head as his fingers dipped just below the waistband of his own pants. "God, you’re pathetic. But don’t worry—I’m about to give you exactly what you’ve been begging for. And when I’m done with you, you won’t even remember how to spell your own name. But I don’t think you are worthy. How about you beg"

“Please, Rafe… please. I’m begging,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you gazed up at him through your lashes. The desperation in your tone was matched only by the way your hand drifted to the bulge straining against his pants. Slowly, deliberately, you began to stroke him, your fingers moving up and down, feeling the heat of him even through the fabric.

Your free hand shakily reached for his, guiding it down between your legs to your dripping cunt. The slick heat there was undeniable, a physical testament to just how much you needed him. You whimpered softly as you pressed his fingers against you, hoping, praying he’d give in.

Rafe’s dark chuckle rumbled through the room, low and taunting. His eyes flicked between your flushed face and the sinful display of your hands, his lips curling into a smirk. "God, you really are pathetic," he sneered, his tone razor-sharp and mocking. "All those good grades, all that effort to be the perfect little nerd, and for what? So I’d fuck you dumb? That’s what this is, isn’t it? Just a goddamn facade.”

He leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear as his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “Deep down, you’re nothing but a slut. My slut. A dirty, desperate whore who gets off on the idea of being used. Tell me, baby—do you want me to ruin you? To breed you? To make you so fucked out that the only thing you’re good for is being my personal fucktoy?”

Your breathing hitched, your strokes faltering for just a moment before you pressed harder against his clothed cock, desperate to keep his attention. “Yes,” you whimpered, your voice barely audible. “I’m your slut. Only yours. I want nothing else but to be your cheap whore. Please, Rafe… sir… fuck me.”

The admission tumbled out of you like a confession, raw and unfiltered. Rafe’s grin widened, his expression darkening as if he’d just won some twisted game. His one hand grabbed your throat and started choking.

If you could catch your breath, you might have shivered at the feeling of his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Here we go," Rafe whispered, the promise in his voice equal parts menace and anticipation.

Before you could process his words, his free hand snaked around your torso, fingers digging into your flesh as he forced your legs apart. There was no tenderness in his movements—no hesitation. The second his three fingers plunged into your soaked cunt, the air was knocked out of you. His grip on your throat released just as a guttural sound escaped you, something caught between a moan, a scream, and a desperate gasp.

"F-Fuck—s-slow down," you choked out instinctively, though you should have known better. Requests like that only fueled him.

Rafe snickered behind you, a dark, mocking sound that made the pain between your legs throb even more intensely. His fingers moved with brutal precision, scissoring and curling without mercy, stretching you to the brink. Your scream tore through the room, raw and unrestrained, as you tried to arch your back away from the relentless intrusion.

"You're dripping for me," he hissed, his voice dripping with sadistic glee. "You’ve been this wet the entire time, haven’t you? Don’t lie to me now. You wanted this."

The words sent a fresh wave of humiliation crashing over you, but it was the bite of his teeth against your ear that made the first tear spill down your cheek.

"Now you’re screaming?" he mocked, his breath hot against your skin. "But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted me to ruin you, and now that I am, you’re crying about it?"

"P-Please," you stammered, your voice breaking with the effort. "Please, slow down—"

He didn’t listen. His fingers continued their ruthless assault, twisting, scissoring, stabbing into you with a punishing pace. It was too much, too fast—pleasure and pain tangling in a chaotic frenzy that left you trembling.

"Such a pretty little pussy," he murmured darkly. His voice was cruel, but there was something almost reverent in the way he said it, his free hand trailing possessively down your thigh. "Look at the mess you’re making, baby. Fuck, you were made for this."

Your nails clawed desperately at the fabric of his shirt, your mind a chaotic blur. "When—" You couldn’t form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. "When—stop?"

Rafe chuckled, low and dangerous, and the sound made your stomach twist in equal parts dread and want. "The sooner you cum, the sooner it stops," he taunted, his tone laced with a demented kind of sweetness.

But you doubted your ability to cum like this—overwhelmed, overstimulated, the line between pleasure and pain so blurred it felt like your mind was short-circuiting. Before you could protest, Rafe leaned closer, his lips brushing against your temple as his free hand moved to your clit.

"I’ll help you, baby," he cooed mockingly. "Let me show you how it’s done."

The second his thumb pinched your swollen clit, your body betrayed you. Your hips bucked, thighs quaking, as a scream ripped from your throat. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, violent and uncontrollable, forcing its way through your body with a sharpness that left you gasping for air.

"That’s it," Rafe groaned, his voice thick with approval as he worked you through it, his fingers still curling inside you. "That’s my clever girl. Such a good fucking slut for me."

Your body sagged, trembling as the last waves of pleasure rolled through you. You barely noticed when Rafe stilled his movements, leaving his fingers buried inside you for a moment longer as if savoring the feeling. Then, with a deliberate slowness that felt almost cruel, he pulled his hands away entirely.

“This is just the beginning, my little topper” 

[swanlakebaby]

our little secret | pjm

prompt: a short scenario about you and jimin sneaking around together as step-siblings

♡ pairing: bts!jimin x fem!reader

⸝⸝ warnings: smut, bts jimin, fem reader, bf jimin, kissing, passionate, sneaking around, risky, step siblings, sex, teasing night,

♡ word count: 890

⸝⸝ note: happy new years! i've been too busy, but i'm gonna try to do better at writing whenever i have free time. this is something that i wrote on a whim, when i had the vision. there's no specific story line. it's kind of just one-off.

• nsfw/18+

-

 she noticed the way he would look at her, catching glimpses of his eyes concentrated on her when she walked past. the look in his eyes every time they made eye contact, or the soft tone of voice he used with her when they chatted. so it’s no shock that when he brother introduced the idea of making out after classes, that she agreed.

it was just supposed to be that. makeout, kisses, and that’s it. they’d wait until their parents left the house to go to work or the store, then he’d sneak into her room and sit on her bed, cradling her in his lap as he rubbed on her body. they began moving this secret relationship to other parts of the house. the kitchen, sneaking quick kisses when the parents were in the living room. the living room, having a small makeout sesh late at night when everyone else has gone to bed. even on the bus, she’d sit in his lap, way in the back of the bus so nobody noticed her on him with his hands firmly gripping her hips.

but then, overtime, something changed. they wanted more, craved more. they needed to be closer to each other. one day, they agree to play a board game when the parents leave to spend the evening out in the city for a date night. perfect. the game goes, you roll your dice and either receive, or give to the other person. it can be as simple as a kiss on the cheek, or a full-blown blowjob.

they quickly set up and begin to play. things start off innocent, kisses here and there. as the game goes on, they have to take the pants and shirt off the other, kiss their neck area & rub on each others thighs. she hadn’t seen jimin's cock at this point. yet now, he was sitting his boxers in front of her, his hard bulge begging for release.

he was firm and thick. her mouth watered when he took off his pants. she needed him. and finally, the game says to enter the tip only, but with a condom. so, he does. it’s slow, he groans due to how tight she is and begins fucking her, following the games prompt. its sticky and wet inside of her, but also warm. she bends over the couch on all fours, he looks down at her plump ass, her butt cheeks rubbing against his cock with each stroke.

as he fucks her with the tip, she closes her eyes and enjoys the feeling, but wants more. she eventually pushes him out, wanting to continue and get deeper into the game. when she looks down at him, his cock is stiff and hard, the condom on his dick. he puts his cock back into his boxers & they continue the game. now, she has to give him head for 1 minute and 30 seconds. he removes the condom, and she wastes no time. she stuffs his cock into his mouth, sucking him off and stroking him. he groans and grabs at her hair, strings of saliva spilling out of her mouth and coating his cock as he pushes her head farther down onto him. he enjoys it a lot, almost too much, and is annoyed when the minute and a half quickly comes and goes.

she grins at him and stands up, wiping her mouth. next, he has to fuck her for 3 minutes. they're excited now and they go back to the original position on the couch. she waits as he puts on a new condom. he slides into her with ease, pounding at her as he knows time is limited. her wet pussy makes him angry. wishing he could feel it, the thin plastic barrier between them being a major inconvience.

when the timer goes off, he sucks in his breath. fuck it, he goes, swiping the dice off the table and the cards that go along with it. he tells her he wants to fuck, do what he wants to her, instead of listening to a game. she nods excitedly, ready to do whatever jimin says. he takes off the condom, grabbing onto her hips and slowly sliding into her. the feeling was electric, her warm pussy caved in his penis, her plump ass rubbing against his cock like before.

she fucked herself onto him, his cock coated in her juices. they fucked for a while, she came onto him a few times. he pulled her hair and smacked her ass until it was beaming red. when he felt himself about to cum, he whispered dirty profanities at her. looking down, he saw the way his girthy cock effortlessly fucked her, her cum all over him. strings of stickiness stretching and melting with each stroke. he finally pulled out, hot ropes of cum spraying out onto her plump ass. he groaned, some of his cum landing on her lower back. at last, they finally had released the intense craving that was setting them back for weeks. they would continue to fuck. in private, in restrooms, dressing rooms, even when their family was in the next room, or sometimes he'd sneak into her bedroom late at night, quietly fucking under the covers. they both agreed it would just be their own little secret.

[theblacklewinsky]

Note: now branching into Tyrone. watched the movie a year ago, but now I'm writing! <3

TRAPPED. | JOHN BOYEGA.

Plug! Toxic! Tyrone x Black! Female Reader.

Warnings: MDNI!! this story is 18+ with depictions but not limited to; sexual content ( you're being recorded! penetrat!on (unprotected p in v, don't do that!), breath play, water sports, slapping/hitting, degradation, he finishes on your face ), extreme language (cursing, use of b-word and others.) slight daddy kink if you squint. Tyrone's the plug! Mentions of a Glock. Not proofread.

Summary: in which Tyrone stakes his claim on you, for another to view.

girl, it's all over your face, there's someone taking my place,

guess that's something that I'm dealing with now.

Tyrone's face contorted into one of complete irritation as you babbled on and on about how he shouldn't be concerned about what you were doing, posting on social media, seeing other people—all because you were broken up. His top lip quirked up, his head tilted and eyes narrowed as he stared blankly at you.

Even in the heat of your rant he looked so good. Too good. Coming to your house looking way too good hair freshly braided (and who was playing in his hair, cause it surely hadn't been you). The spider branded sweatpants slouching off his frame just a bit, the mismatched black tee he accompanied with it, risen just a bit to where you could see the waistband of his Jockey branded boxers, handle of his peanut butter block exposed. Only big dick niggas wore Jockeys. But that wasn't your aim today.

"- you so worried about what I'm doing! Worry about you, last time I checked you had so many bitches in them instagram comments," you rambled on, giving away your indifferent facade, you'd stalked his socials just a little bit in the midst of your four week break up, so what. "Not to mention, them thirsty ass hoes in your messages, 'bring me a three five,' " you mocked the recantation of the text message in a high pitched voice before rolling your eyes, "whole time you probably was over there droppin' dick off."

Tyrone kissed his teeth in response to your drawn out rant, your words falling on deaf ears, you knew what he was here for. "Man, you' talkin' bout some whole other shit I don't care about," he bluntly replied, "is you fuckin' that nigga or what?"

"Who?" You chirped, furrowing your brows. Playing your little coy act. You didn't need to ask who, you knew you weren't fucking anybody. This toxic, exhausting, and dare you admit, exhilarating roller coaster you and Tyrone stayed on wasn't near over, and you didn't get get back in giving your pussy away. But, you did like to make him sweat.

Who was Issac, of course. Isaac was his most sworn opp, and even though it was surely fucked up for you to even politic with this man—this cycle of toxicity had you doing the most obscene things to be seen. Of course his homeboys had seen you, you'd damn near made it obvious. Hopping out of his blacked out GMC Terrain in the middle of downtown, with a pink ruffled mini skirt that barely covered your ass, and a crop top with the words Ed Hardy sprawled across the top, paired with the expensive sneakers you'd asked Tyrone to buy you. You were wearing shit he bought you, on a date with a different nigga. His opp. That shit was a violation in itself.

His homies wasted no time in being absolutely federal, taking pictures and even starting a verbal confrontation with Isaac when you left the restaurant. It was only dinner for you. You weren't the slightest bit interested in Isaac—this was mostly for the anger of Tyrone, all the chaos he'd put you through with different women you seen in his phone, this was his payback. But, you couldn't deny that the attention felt nice. Still, you compared Isaac to Tyrone on a daily.

But you wouldn't tell him that. Right now, you were in some toxic shit of your own. The back and forth cycle between you two was a normality now, and your circle of friends and family knew that too. One day the both of you'd be walking around, saying fuck one another, and the next day ducked off, fucking one another.

"Fuck you keep playin' with me for?" He asked inching closer toward you, his hands clasped together in front of you. He was so sexy like this, intimidating and fuming. Damn, you were such a slut for shit like this. You ignored the throbbing in your pussy at the edge in his voice. "You know who I'm talkin' about. You runnin' round with the opps doin' weird ass shit with this lame ass nigga."

"Now I'm doing weird shit, but it wasn't weird when you were leaving the house at four in the morning talkin' about plays," you emphasized, using your fingers for air quotations, "but really you was goin' to see bitches."

"Is you fuckin' this nigga or not?" He simply repeated, not even giving a single reply to the accusations you posed against him. Had any of the shit you spurred out been true—you wouldn't even be here, allowing him the liberty of being in your apartment, in your space.

Everybody knew Tyrone was a charmer, a ladies man by default, bitches loved watching him pull up in that bright red Camaro, engine rumbling, him making quick small talk while he waited on an impending cashapp from his customers—a nice portion of his patrons being women.

But he wasn't a cheater. Not in the slightest. He had a flirty personality sure, but he knew boundaries and he never allowed bitches to feel comfortable enough to even think they had a one up on you.

The messages you read in his phone, prior to your breakup told a different story though. A couple of women felt a little too comfortable, nobody should've been texting your man about weed at close to four in the morning. And no amount of money, should've coaxed this man to leave your bed.

He'd been coaxed out of his slumber by your constant tossing and turning and angry muttering. Which then prompted a huge argument when he decided to ask what the problem was, only for you to boldly expose what you found in his phone, to which he angrily asked you why you felt the need to look through his shit. That prompted more angry yelling, and years of frustration from you, because why was your man yelling at you? And that led to Tyrone, breaking things off once again.

One thing was clear and true about the both of you, you'd both never experienced healthy relationships. Insecurities, and immaturity clouded your relationship, and nearly made it impossible to have any sense of stability and healthiness in your relationship.

However, the two of you were dangerously enthralled with one another. The toxic bond you two shared made it impossible to just break away. No contact for the two of you, was constant contact. Who could make who jealous? Who could make who cave first? There was never not any contact. Whether it be subs on social media, or persistent angry text messages.

Still, you wanted to carry this on. Wanted to see how far you could really push him. Couldn't he see that you'd done all this because you missed him? How desperately you wanted his attention you dabbled with his enemy in public? It was a power move on your end, he had to cave first. And just as you suspected, he did.

Shrugging your shoulders you avoided his impending gaze, "I don't see how that's any of your concern." You bleakly murmured.

But it was all of his concern. That much was evident when you found yourself sandwiched between him and your creaking mattress. His mushroomed tip plunging constantly against the spongy spot right in the back of pussy, that spot he hit every time he bottomed out. His strokes were deep and rushed, the absence of hesitance in his strokes showed you that he missed you the same. " 'm so wet daddy," you mewled, lowered eyes glancing back and forth between your sopping pussy, squelching and leaking all over his dick, and him watching you earnestly on the iPhone camera he was recording on.

You couldn't care less about that fucking camera, way too blissfully fucked out to care about whatever he planned to do with that video. And neither did he as he continued his assault on your spasmodic pussy, slight rushed breathing and grunts letting you know he was enjoying this just as much as you. His left hand came down to press on your lower tummy to hold your squirming body in place, the pressure seemingly weakened your bladder, the loud sound of your arousal splashing around his dick filled your ears, drowning out your pretty, drawn out moans. Tears brimmed in your low eyes at how good you were feeling, the curve in his dick continually attacking that same spot in you. "Missed you so much, daddy." You whimpered.

"fuck up," he simply replied kissing his teeth, hand that was pressed against your lower tummy now coming up to slap firmly against your exposed cheek repeatedly, "you got this nigga' takin' you out on dates, spendin' money on you, thinkin' he got a chance..just for you to be wettin' my dick up the same night, sayin' you miss me." He t'skd. "Slut ass bitch."

The edge in his tone only furthered your arousal, bringing you closer to your undoing. His hips undeterred as he kept fucking into you, consistently. His left hand now fisting the material of the neckline of your crop top, using it as leverage to plow into you. Your bottom lip trembled, teeth chattering, eyes going cross as you tried to ward off your quickly approaching orgasm. You knew the rules damn near better than he did, he controlled every bit of pleasure you received, orgasms included. You tried your best to ignore how loud and audible your arousal was, tried to ignore how loudly the bed was creaking, tried to ignore the loud claps your skin produced when you clashed together. Your mind was fuzzy, breathing erratic and voice unstable, you found enough consciousness to mutter out the words, " 'm not with him d-daddyy!" You stuttered out through a moan, words spewed out in between heavy breaths and gasps.

The statement brought a sense of satisfaction to Tyrone, a soft groan slipping past his lips, the way you squeezed around his dick let him know that you meant everything you managed to get out. Your pussy was almost molded for him, the most snug, comfortable fit. He knew you weren't with Isaac, he knew you weren't fucking him, and even if you had, any future thoughts would be hindered when he received this video. "Yeah? Say that shit again—look at the camera and tell him you ain't his bitch while you squirt on my dick," he cooed, the vulgar words in such contrast with the sickening sweetness of his tone had you tumbling toward the edge. Your breathing halted as you felt Tyrone's fingers dancing across your clit.

The sound of your was arousal even more audible as he continued fucking into you, your hands shot up from their original vice grip on the sheets underneath you out to the broad arms of the man on top of you, acrylic nails sinking into the flesh there. "Ooouuu, shit daddy!" You cried out, voice hoarse and broken, as you tried to focus your hazy vision in on the camera perfectly angled above you. But you couldn't see anything, not that damn camera, not Tyrone, not even the high ceilings of your bedroom. White stars danced against a static background behind your eyes. Your brain was completely mush at this point but you knew you couldn't cum until you uttered the words, "m' not your bitch, fuckimcummin!" You rushed out. Your breathing halting once again, no sound seemed to be able to accommodate the way your juices spurted out, almost on a steady stream as it soaked the both of your lower half's.

Tyrone's lips coaxed into a smirk as he continued recording you, a soft chuckle slipping past his lips as he watched you come undone right in front of the camera and him. The sight before him was too good not to marvel on, "look at 'er," he chuckled, "you thinkin' you got my bitch, showin' her off and she over here squirtin' and goin' dumb on my dick," he taunted, his tone patronizing and rough, he took his eyes away from the screen momentarily. Taking the time to look at your almost limp body, his hand smacking against your cheek repetitively. "Get back here bitch, ain't none of that zonin' out. Look at me while you cum, wanna see them pretty eyes while you squirtin' on me," he roughly spoke to you, grabbing your slackened jaw in his hand and spitting down right into your agape mouth.

That seemed to ground you somewhat, bringing a gust of air back into your lungs as you remembered to how to properly breathe. Your now blurred vision meeting his, faint strobes of colors you couldn't put a name to, and stars still clouded your vision. You felt like you were coming down off the wildest trip you ever had, like psychedelics had altered your perception. This shit was witchcraft, whatever he had on you. This shit was dangerous.

His strokes never halted, even when he was sure you'd rode out your previous orgasm, he watched your watery, low, dazed gaze as he continued his assault on you. Hand now firmly clamped around your neck, tight enough to where it fully restricted your airways, your hands immediately wrapping themselves around his wrist, "fuck off me," he spat firmly, ignoring the tears of overstimulation brewing in your lash line.

Everything was beginning to feel like too much. And it felt like too much earlier, it felt like way too fucking much now. You were completely overstimulated, the sensation which was now pleasure was now contorted into a mix of pain and pleasure. "Can't breathe pa," you managed to get out through a choked voice.

"You know what you need to do then, get this nut up outta me first," he smugly replied, moans and expletives following his statement as he watched the color in your deep brown skin flush to a dark tint of red, eyes watering due to lack of oxygen. But that didn't stop you from squeezing around him as tight as you could, attempting to thrust back against him in your folded position, fucking yourself dumb against him to feel the flush of oxygen back into your lungs.

And just when you thought you were so close to passing out—when the colors behind your dazed face started to fade to black his slurred, loud groans accompanied his rushed out statement, "fuckkkk bitch, I'm finna nut—where you want it?" He panted, quickly pulling out of you with a loud squelch.

Your breath seemed to come back to you in one big gasp, as he finally freed your neck from his vice grip. You still managed to give him a response between heaping breaths. "on my face daddy, please nut on my face," you gasped heavily inhaling through your mouth as you watched him stroke right over your face. Thick, warm ropes of cum painted your pretty features, Tyrone's lousy guttural groans and grunts accompanied his orgasm, he made sure to capture that part on camera especially.

He sent the video from your phone to Isaac before he got you all cleaned up. He smirked seeing the read receipts pop up immediately.

He definitely hated the both of you now.

i hope you enjoyed <333

no tag list bc I wanna see how this performs!

[urfavlarry]

—You’re the kind of person they write rock songs about

—modern!au Viktor x fem!reader warning. swearing, not proof read, might be OOC

part two || part three || part four

A/N. sorry if this is short I promise the next chapter will be longer D:

‘You eye each other as you pass

She looks back and you look back

Not just once, not just twice’

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vik.tor222 posts followers following

4 107 25

Vik

Piltover Uni || Physics & Engineering

2027 🎓

tagged: truly.y/n, powpow, ekk0stime and 4 others

liked by ekk0stime, ishaaq, j.talis and 32 others

posted 2 weeks ago

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You found yourself scrolling through Viktor’s account, your finger idly swiping through his highlights and posts. Each photo and story offered a glimpse into his world—museum trips, late-night coffee breaks, and snapshots of the people he cared about, though he never really appeared in any of them. He also had a highlight containing pictures of him but most were faceless and only ever showed off his outfit of the day. The newest post however caught your eye: a picture of you and your band from the night you all first officially hung out and the Last Drop. It was more of an unexpected and last minute get together but it sure was worth spending that time with them. The memory tugged at you, bringing a flicker of joy as you remembered the warmth and laughter of that evening.

But the smile on your face quickly faded as reality set in. There was a reason you were staring at his account, hovering over his name like some indecisive idiot. Right, texting him. You sighed, locking your phone and staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to muster up the courage to type something that wouldn’t make you sound ridiculous. Why was this so hard? It wasn’t like you hadn’t talked to him before.

This was about to be the fifth time that week you’d tried to coax information out of him, and it was starting to make you feel like a desperate ex who couldn’t take a hint. But the utter curiosity had completely taken over, refusing to let you rest until you got some answers.

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. Fuck it. If Viktor wanted to keep things cryptic, fine—but you weren’t about to sit here driving yourself insane over it. Picking up your phone again, you opened your messages, quickly typing out a message before you had the chance to overthink it and chicken out.

——————————————————————————

[truly.y/n] Vikkk >:((

[truly.y/n] where do we even meet up? band is asking soo many questions and I need answers

[truly.y/n] can you PLEASE tell me where we’re going? what place could possibly need all of our equipment? did you do something?

[vik.tor222] 6pm outside the school dormitories, i’ll pay for the taxi

[truly.y/n] unless you know a taxi driver with a van then we’ll be going by Ekko’s van. we need to move Isha’s drums, the speakers and all that shit

[vik.tor222] okay then the meeting spot is the same, want me to drive?

[truly.y/n] idc, if you wanna :P

[vik.tor222] alright then, see you in 2 days :)

[truly.y/n] whatever mr. mysterious, cya

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Two days passed in the blink of an eye, your bandmates just as clueless as you however Ekko was the most excited out of everyone who just stood there, waiting for you and Powder to load up the van. “Why can’t he just tell us?” Isha signed, eyeing Viktor who was patiently waiting near the drivers side of the van, occasionally tapping his cane and looking towards the slightly frightened looking band which only amused him.

“Whatever it is, we’re ready,” he said, tuning his bass with a big grin. “Mystery gigs are kind of cool, y’know?” “Cool until we walk into a disaster,” Isha signed, twirling her drumsticks in the air before stepping into the van so you could all be on your way

“Alright, let’s get going.” Ekko exclaimed enthusiastically, while you and Powder cheered— yours being more sarcastic than excited but you played along with their enthusiasm.

The drive wasn’t long, but the anticipation made every minute feel like hours. Powder kept trying to guess where you were going however you gave up a long time ago. “Okay, hear me out,” she said, leaning forward from the back seat. “It’s gotta be a secret underground gig. Like, a place that only the coolest people know about. Right?” “Or,” Ekko added, “maybe it’s some rich dude’s private party. Like, we’re about to play for some billionaires who want to vibe out to live music.” “God, I hope not,” Isha signed from her corner, pulling off one headphone.

Viktor chuckled softly, his focus still on the road. “You’re all very creative. Perhaps I should’ve hired you as consultants.”

“Don’t dodge the question!” Powder groaned, throwing a crumpled receipt at him from months ago. He ignored her antics, his smirk unwavering as the van slowly came to a stop. You blinked in disbelief, staring out the windshield at the familiar neon sign glowing softly in the early evening light. “No way,” you murmured, your heart skipping a beat.

Ekko leaned forward, squinting. “Wait... isn’t this that café? The vintage one you’ve been obsessed with?” “The one one you have been dying to play at?” Powder added, her voice rising with excitement. “The very one,” Viktor confirmed, stepping out of the van and gesturing for everyone to follow. His cane tapped rhythmically against the pavement as he led the way to the entrance.

You hesitated, your stomach twisting in equal parts of excitement and panic. “Viktor, what are we doing here?” He paused at the door, turning to look at you with a calm, knowing smile. “You said it was your dream to play here. I’d like to think the most ‘impossible’ dreams are the ones most possible, aren’t they rockstar?” Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Powder gave you a nudge from behind, practically bouncing with excitement. “Come on! Let’s go!” The group piled into the café, and the cozy, familiar ambiance hit you immediately—it was exactly as you’d imagined it when you first stepped in weeks ago.

A staff member came up to you as soon as you entered, his sharp jaw and carefully ironed dress shirt was enough to make you feel small. His intimidating aura shifted however once he began to speak; “Right on time! Do whatever you need to do and we’ll be ready when you are.” He said with a smile before giving you a quick nod and turned to leave.

Powder let out an excited squeal, grabbing your arm and shaking it. “Vik I can’t believe you booked us here!” “I merely opened the door,” Viktor said, his smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s up to you to walk through it.”

Ekko was already setting his gear down, grinning from ear to ear. “Yo, this is insane. We’re actually playing here.” Isha looked quite stunned as well, looking around with wide eyes as she shakily set up her drums. You’ve played at cafe’s before and had a few successful shows but this.. this was different. It was a famous place, one with people who’d gladly give you job offers like playing at their bar, or more of a moving job where’d they’d reach out to people and find you gigs with the snap of their fingers. This was a real opportunity.

Viktor was staring at you and the band from a booth, having a view better than anyone else as he had a proud smile on his face. He felt your excitement, the absolute joy that radiated from your body which was amusing to the normal eye however he knew what it truly meant to you. He’s properly known you for a little over two weeks but it felt like he’s known you forever. Viktor found himself silently rooting for you in a way that surprised him. He glanced at the growing crowd, noting their curiosity, some patrons leaned forward in anticipation, while others sipped their drinks casually, oblivious to the significance of what was about to unfold.

Your setlist was a mix of two original songs and covers from legends like Queen’s Seven Seas of Rhye, Deftones’ Sextape, Iron Maiden, Mötley Crüe and Metallica.

From the first chords of Seven Seas of Rhye, the café buzzed with energy. “Hell yeah!” Ekko exclaimed, sending you all a proud smirk as he strummed the chords of every single song perfectly. “Everyone feeling alright?” Powder yelled into the mic, an uproar of cheers sending bolts of energy into you. “That’s what I wanna fucking hear! Let’s keep this energy going!” When you hit the haunting melody of Sextape, the crowd seemed transfixed, and you felt Viktor’s eyes on you, his expression focused and unreadable.

You kept locking eyes with him throughout the show, a flutter of butterflies stirring in your stomach each time you caught the way his gaze softened with what almost looked like adoration. Every time you tried to force yourself to look elsewhere, embarrassed by how often your eyes found his, you failed. It was as if some invisible magnet pulled your gaze towards his, neither of you able to look away.

By the end of the set, as the final note hung in the air, your eyes found his one last time. He gave a small nod, a faint but genuine smile tugging at the corner of his lips. And for reasons you couldn’t fully explain, that single gesture felt like the loudest applause of the night.

taglist: @skullmvncher @startingtoloveyou @astarionapologist

© URFAVLARRY

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE OR COPY ANY OF MY WRITING TO OTHER PLATFORMS

I DON’T CONSENT FOR MY WRITING TO BE USED TO TRAIN AI 🚫

[puckinghischier]

Hiiii happy new year! I absolutely adore your quinnxreader fics! I loved the one about his brothers asking her questions and calling her all the time because they love her so much! Would you consider writing more about that?

Maybe about their dynamic in person, meeting over Christmas or summer or something!??

Have a great day!

oh listen when the four of you are together for long periods of time? you’re convinced you and quinn will never have to have kids, because you’re gonna be parenting jack and luke for the rest of your lives.

like meeting at the lake house over the summer. even if ellen and jim are there with everyone, luke and jack still bug you with any and every question they have.

“y/n! what should i eat for lunch?”

“y/n! where’s the remote?”

“y/n! have you seen my swimming trunks?”

every time you take a breath, one of them is yelling for you for help, or advice, or nothing at all. jack is a regular at shouting your name from wherever he is in the house just to show you some video on his phone, or ask you how to spell a word for a text he’s sending.

quinn and ellen have both scolded them numerous times to leave you alone and quit treating you like a maid, but you don’t tell them you secretly love it. you hate that they’re acting like toddlers that can’t fend for themselves, but you love the comfort level they have with you to do it all.

and it’s not like they don’t return the favor.

you always manage to get a summer cold when you come to the lake house. you don’t know if it’s the water mixed with the chilly nights or the fact you’re always on the go and never resting, but you somehow always get a case of the sniffles for a few days each summer.

whenever it happens, jack and luke dote on you like you’re bedridden. constantly bringing you snacks and meds and juice. asking if you need anything, watching movies with you and quinn while all four of you cuddle on the couch.

ellen never fails to snap a picture of the occasion, all of her kids (you included) safe and sound under one roof, a rare occurrence in her world.

now, you have your own moments visiting the two youngest brothers, missing them just as badly as they miss you sometimes. when quinn is away on a particularly long road trip and jack and luke have a few home games, you’re booking a flight and off to see them.

you can always see how excited they are to have you at their games, making sure you have the best seats and even buying you a custom split hughes sweater, so you never have to choose one over the other.

they tell all of their teammates you’re coming and gesture to you throughout the whole game, making sure you saw that save, or watched them score a goal.

you go out with them after games and send quinn lots of pictures of his drunk, idiot brothers singing karaoke and displaying terrible dance moves.

quinn loves seeing you have the friendship with his brothers that you do, but he always reminds them to keep you safe, his protective side coming out, even though he knows they would never let anything happen.

still, it doesn’t keep them from finding sunglasses from god knows where, drunkenly waltzing you out of bar on either side of you, gesturing for people to move out of the way like they’re your bodyguards. every move you make, they’re sending (blurry) pictures of you safely outside the bar, getting into the uber, getting out of the uber, walking into their apartment building, in the elevator, unlocking their door, walking through their door, walking to the guest room, and one final shot of you in bed with the covers pulled up to your chin, to the groupchat you’re in with them and your boyfriend.

and once the apartment is quiet and their voices are reduced to light snores, you sneak into their rooms and take pictures of them, too, feeling just as much of a responsibility to keep them safe and cared for.

christmases? now those are an event, truly.

luke and jack are on you for months to help them pick out the perfect gift for quinn and ellen, claiming you know gifts way better than they do. you even fly out to jersey for a couple days in the middle of december, finding a stretch where they have a couple home games.

you take them out shopping, coaching and making sure they don’t pick out some random scarf for their mom or striped tie for quinn and jim. they take you to do all the touristy christmas things around the city (even if you’ve done it a million times before) and make fun of how you still can’t skate, even after all the years of being with quinn.

when you all finally make it back to michigan for the big family christmas, quinn steals you away for some one on one time, of course, but it’s never long lived. one of the two man-children, as quinn so affectionately calls them, comes barging in your room eventually, flopping down onto the bed right in-between you and quinn. and once one is in there, the other gets jealous and fights his way into the dog pile happening.

“can you two go annoy mom and dad or something? you just had her for four days, it’s my turn,” quinn huffs, your quiet bubble now burst.

“well, mom and dad told us to come annoy you guys, they have to wrap presents,” luke pouts to quinn, causing him to roll his eyes and accept his fate.

christmas morning with them is always your favorite, though.

jack and luke are always so high energy, wanting everyone to open their presents from them first so they can see the reactions.

they’re just like little kids, almost blurting out what it is as the person is opening it. they always tell ellen and quinn and jim you helped them, not wanting to take all the credit for themselves. but when it comes to their gifts to you? you start to think their claims that they’re terrible at gift giving is just a rouse to get you to visit them each year, because they never fail to give you the most heartfelt gifts.

like this christmas, they had gone in together on paying an artist to paint a collage of your favorite pictures of you and quinn together, the canvasses each in the shape of yours and quinn’s initials. you had noticed the canvas shaped like a plus sign in-between the two letters is blank, not knowing why they would leave such a large section bare.

when you look up to ask them, you notice they’re standing on either side of you, gesturing you to stand up. quinn is nowhere to be found, looking around for him as you stand and follow their lead to the back door of the large house.

when they open the door you’re met with the michigan snow, falling perfectly onto a beautifully decorated archway that you hadn’t noticed the night before. you noticed the poinsettias forming a walkway to the arch, finding quinn standing there under the perfectly hung mistletoe, waiting for you.

jack and luke walk push you on, staying behind in the warmth of the house.

you walk down the snow covered path, focusing on not falling the whole way.

once you reach the end of the path, quinn grabs your hand and plants you right in front of him.

he launches into a speech about how much he loves you, and how much he loves watching you with his family, how easily you’ve become a part of it, intertwined so deeply into his soul he couldn’t let you go, even if he wanted to, before dropping down on one knee, asking you to spend the rest of your life trusting him and loving him.

you immediately tell him yes, launching your body to his once he stands, tears streaming down your frozen face. right as you go to share a kiss to seal the intimate moment, you’re broken apart by the woops and hollers of none other than jack and luke, turning your head to see them barreling down the walkway towards you two.

“oh my god! we’re getting a sister! she’s actually gonna be ours now!” jack screams, crushing you two in a bear hug that would give quinn a run for his money.

“now quinn can’t use the excuse she’s his anymore, because now she’s ours. she’s gonna be a hughes! no more stingy quinn!” luke follows up, another weight added onto the already crushing hug.

“oh god, i didn’t think this through,” quinn groans, not enjoying his brothers’ newfound claim on you.

you giggle, encased in all the hughes love.

“also, we helped plan this, don’t let him hog all the credit, here. we planned our gift so it’d be the perfect segway into the proposal!” luke rushes out, too excited to keep it in any longer.

“the blank canvas is for engagement pictures!” jack confirms, beaming from ear to ear.

they finally release you and quinn from their clutches.

“okay, you guys have had your moment, now go back inside. she might getting ready to be your sister-in-law,” quinn emphasizes the last two words, “but she’s my fiancé, so we’ve earned some alone time.”

the two brothers huff and pout as they walk off, grumbling about how they can’t wait until you’re a hughes so he can’t claim you’re just his.

before you allow yourself the time with quinn, you run after your two best friends, tackling them in their own bear hug, despite how much larger they are than you.

“thank you guys. for this, for accepting me into your family, for sharing quinn with me,” you giggle at their scoff and luke’s mumble of ‘more like we share you with him’ before continuing. “i love you two. i’ll always be your big sister, yeah? as long as you’re always my two obnoxious little brothers.”

they squeeze you back so tightly you can’t breathe, telling you again how much they can’t wait for you to officially be part of their family.

quinn watches you with them, his own heart warmed despite the snow falling, wondering how in the world he got so lucky with such an amazing family, and now an even more amazing woman to bring into it.

[itsquakey]

The really really dumb Kirby weapon theory/prediction plus the ramblings of a crazy person

After putting this aside for a while despite bringing it up a couple times I am finally putting together this stupid theory I've had since Forgotten land came out. The weapons that the mage sisters have always been on my mind thanks to the fact that I personally think they're a very small reveal of what's to come about a tiny detail of the future.

To start-the three mage sisters each have their own weapon they use.

Zan Partizanne has a Partisan, Flamberge has a Flamberge, Francisca has a francisca (actually it's a double headed axe but we will refer to it as both here).

Nothing really special.

Though my interest in these weapons changed with The forgotten land and Elfilis. Elfilis also wields a partisan. This kinda piqued my interest? Out of all weapons they choose one this boss would share with someone else? Knowing how this series (unfortunately) works the similarity is likely on purpose. So basically what I'm saying is the next two final bosses in the next mainline series entries will be wielding a flamberge and a francisca/double headed axe. I also believe that the next two bosses will be of 'different matter' as apposed to void termina's dark matter and whatever you wanna say Elfilis is. I also believe Morpho will be after those fellas as well. Wouldn't make sense for it to stop at Galacta and Elfilis, and since it seems to be...somewhat friendly with Kirby? Enough to allow Kirby to have some of its power with the Morpho upgrades. I doubt it'll be after them anytime soon. If anything I think their relationship with Kirby will be similar to Kirby's relationship with Meta.

I have a few ideas as well but they're kinda just. Theories without substance.

Morpho could be after the four heroes of yore. Taking Galacta (who we know is a hero of yore), Elfilis (A harder thing to prove, we never saw them using heart spears), and wherever the other two are if they're still alive. A better theory would be that Morpho happens to respond to changes in the air when galaxy-threatening level things show their face and deals with them itself. Or maybe Morpho follows Kirby around because it knows trouble is drawn to the kid. I still really like the idea that Morpho IS Galacta. That's why they look similar(ish). Maybe Morpho/Galacta is out for revenge or something. But it's Kirby. We have not idea what is happening anyway.

Another theory is that the three weapons of the mage sister reference the other three weapons used by the heroes of yore. Galacta has his lance, then one would have a partisan, one a flamberge, and one a francisca/double-headed axe....Is what I would say if it wasn't for the concept art book. There's a part in the book that has an unusual emphasis on three weapon designs. I just noticed it as I write this, and it's interesting.

The double-headed axe, the Partisan, and the bow and arrow. No other weapon Void Termia uses gets this treatment. These also could be the weapons the three other heroes used. There's a weird absence of a lance though maybe that's on purpose. I kinda like the idea that we only know Galacta was a hero, and the other three are left unknown with only their weapons proving their existence. I wonder though if there's a reason we only know for sure who one of the heroes was. Either they're just making shit up as it goes or they have an idea of what they want to either.

TLDR: I think the next final bosses will either use the two other weapons of the mage sisters or the two weapons we see Void Termina use. (Elfilis already has the partisan)

Either way HAL please hire me I need that game in the past about the ancients with Galacta as a main character and I can make it for you I swear.

[remstrrs]

Potential Rebel Robin -> S4 Parallel and (potentially) S5 Parallel

I feel like as a fandom, we don't really talk about the Rebel Robin book/podcast enough, especially about it's implications for the series in general, so i wanted to look at one specific scene that parallels a scene from s4, and that i think would be rlly cool if paralleled in s5:

{CC:

Robin : There's something wrong with me. There's something inside of me that's just, like, rotten, and there's nothing I can do to fix it.

Wait - Wait why are you stopping?

Mr. Hauser : Robin, look at me. There is nothing wrong with you.

Robin : You have to say that.

Mr. Hauser : No, I'm serious. Hey - hey, look me in the eye and trust what I'm saying, okay? There is nothing wrong with you. There is nothing rotten inside of you; you don't need to be fixed. }

For further context, Mr. Hauser is Robin's English teacher at Hawkins High in her sophomore year (podcast is set in winter of 1983) who she becomes very close with and, in this scene, is giving her a ride home.

This is episode four of the podcast, but in the final episode, Robin finds out that Mr. Hauser is a queer man who is secretly dating another man in Hawkins.

In aforementioned scene, Robin asks him if he's happy, and if living in Hawkins while queer is really worth it for him - to which he says yes, but reminds Robin that she doesn't have to make the same choice as him, saying, "There are places where you don't need the armor"

Now, firstly, I want to start by talking about how this scene between Robin and Mr. Hauser is a pretty close parallel to the scene in s4e08, where Jonathan is comforting Will after he watches the painting scene go down.

(Also, keep in mind that the Rebel Robin book was published in 2021, so it's writing coincided with the writing of s4)

Jonathan knows that Will is queer, and heard Will mention that he felt like a mistake back in the van, so he tells him that he loves him and,

"There is nothing in this world, okay, absolutely nothing that will ever change that."

Although not a perfect parallel, I couldn't help but notice the word choice used and the repetition of 'nothing' in both examples. The overall exigence of these two scenes is almost a perfect match, too:

Mr. Hauser hears Robin call herself wrong and rotten, so he comforts her by telling her the exact opposite.

Jonathan hears Will call himself different and a mistake so he comforts him and tells him that he loves him no matter what.

Now.... how do I think something similar could play out in Season 5?

Alright, so there's been a lot of talk on Byler tumblr about having scenes with Mike, Will, and Robin together - or Robin mentoring either one of the boys - but personally, I'd like to see the scenes above paralleled in a Robin/Mike conversation over anything, and here's why.

Out of the two boys, Mike is the one who is most isolated from his queerness and what it entails. Whereas Will is possibly starting to come into his own and accept himself a little bit more with Jonathan as a stronger support system, and has known about his queerness, Mike is much more lost. Will has already had a heart-to-heart with Jonathan, and knows he isn't alone with his queerness.

In my opinion, it's inevitable that Mike will have a heart-to-heart with one of the adults/older teens in Season 5, and I honestly believe that it has to be Robin, Nancy, or (preferably) both.

In Season 5, Mike is a high school sophomore. He's very clearly insecure, and is probably seen as more weird or different because of his previous involvement with Hellfire. Likewise, in her book, Robin is also an insecure high school sophomore who is seen as an outsider/social outcast.

Plus, in Season 5, Robin closely parallels Mr. Hauser from the book:

They both have accepted and come to terms with their queerness, and came out to at least one person, and they both have partners of the opposite-sex while living in Hawkins (assuming that Rovickie is canon after the 1987 time skip, which i believe it probably will be.)

In my opinion, this sets up an almost perfect opportunity for a Robin/Mike moment where Mike either:

In relation to his queerness, talks about feeling wrong and rotten to Robin, who sympathizes with him (and potentially comes out to him) helping him know that he isn't alone or broken.

or

Mike finds out about Robin's queerness by accident, (which is Robin's case when finding out about Mr. Hauser's) and he asks her if she's happy in Hawkins, which gives her the opportunity to convey to Mike that his idea of a 'family' isn't the only one, and that there "are places where you don't need the armor" just as Mr. Hauser said.

I think the second would be especially impactful, because Mike grew up in a white-picket fence, nuclear, traditional, and conservative household (something that is actually openly criticized by Nancy and Jonathan in season 1). He sees his parents' loveless relationship (which is paralleled to Stancy and Milkvan) right in front of his eyes, and thinks that its the only way because it's all he's known. Robin could open his eyes to the possibility of something else, and this is what could make him realize his feelings for Will.

Also! We have confirmation of a potential Robin + Mike scene (or at least a scene where Finn and Maya are filming together) by none other than Shawn Levy himself (pic posted on his insta)

If you don't know, Shawn Levy notoriously directed both of the scenes below, which show examples of Mike struggling with potential internalized homophobia during angsty fights with Will

Also, based on Shawn Levy's reply to this person on twt, it's very likely we get a similar scene in St5:

I think that another Byler fight could be the perfect lead-in to a heart-to-heart between Mike and Robin, too. Seeing the two boys fighting could lead her into asking Mike what's going on between them, which could then turn into a deeper conversation where Mike realizes exactly why his fights with Will are so different from his fights with anyone else.

This has gotten way too long and spiraled a bit out of control, and I need to actually write an essay for school now, so I'll leave it here.

Please let me know if you have anything to add or anything you agree or disagree with! I love theorizing with other people, too :)