#like they just don’t like the idea of a man being a woman

[mckinlily]

So I’m a woman in STEM, and in physics specifically that has some of the worse gender ratios out of all the sciences and right there with most engineering fields that I also worked closely with. All through my undergrad, I was told I was so lucky there were “maybe up to 10?” girls in my classes, instead of being the ONLY girl in the classroom like it was for my professors.

But you see, this wasn’t because men didn’t want women in physics. They did!! It was just women were socialized differently so they didn’t end succeeding as much (if they even tried at all—a pipeline problem that was not under the physicists’ control).

There were plenty of ways this showed up, but a big one was “Oh men don’t listen to women just because they don’t talk right.” See, women phrase their thoughts and contributions with “I think” or “I feel” or “Maybe it’s…” while men will just blast you with their opinions like it’s the word of god or some shit “ACTUALLY ITS THIS WAY”. See, it’s women’s soft way of speaking that actually disempowers themselves. Men would listen to them right away if they were just assertive. Just writing this out makes me want to puke, and very early on I was calling bullshit on it. Primarily on two accounts: 1) Why is it the woman’s communication style automatically Wrong and the man’s way is Right? Why don’t we accuse men of being failed communicators because they don’t communicate like women? Especially when both styles have advantages? Why do the men get to be assumed superior? And 2) we all know the term for an assertive woman: it’s BITCH.

But even while I could see all that bullshit, I was still pulled in by the underlying premise: if you’re just good enough—if you’re smart enough, experienced enough, competent enough, and confident enough—you will be let in and treated with respect.

So I tried to be as smart and competent and infallible as possible believing that if I did that, I would earn that respect.

Until one day, I actually managed it. I became a subject matter expert at my company. I had enough knowledge and experience to stand out among everyone else. And I did it fast. I learned more and faster than my other colleagues until I was the go-to person for multiple huge projects, even being relatively young. I was more competent, more efficient, more confident—finally able to go toe-to-toe with my male colleagues, even ones with more years of experience, on their level because I got that good.

And they treated me like SHIT.

It sucked being treated like an inferior, but it was 1000 times worse when they couldn’t believe I was inferior anymore and therefore treated me like a threat. Even the other women were less eager to back me up. The antagonism, the put downs, the way they kept me out of key conversations relevant to my job, the constant lying and gaslighting, the retaliation—

Turns out, they never meant to treat women like equals. But they held that promise out like a dangling carrot, convinced no woman could *actually* match that standard. And when one did, when I beat them at it, ALLLLL the nastiness came spewing out.

And this from guys who I had previously thought if it were decently ok!

Women act the way they do because that “female socialization” isn’t anything cute or passive or harmless. It is vicious backlash whenever they don’t—often violent backlash. Women are intelligent humans with brains very competent in opportunity v risk analysis. And if you’re a woman looking to survive or just minimize self harm—you learn very quickly which behaviors will protect you and which will get you attacked.

Don’t you dare criticize women for choosing the behaviors that are least likely to make them the targets of your cruelty and violence And girls, don’t internalize this idea that women’s ways are inferior or weak. Do what you need to do, whether that’s saving your energy for what you really care about, or throwing out patriarchy’s rules and taking the lumps that come with that. There’s no right answer when the system is built so that you’re always wrong.

Women do things that make sense. Women have always been just as logical as any human when presented with the facts of their lives which they know intimately.

Was it worth it to work hard, fight hard, and stand up for myself at my job? I don’t know. It wasn’t the “feminine” thing. It didn’t succeed in granting me the respect I wanted. It made life a lot harder for me, really. But I also found out that I’m a lot stronger and more skilled than I thought I was. I learned a lot of cool science.

And I left that job. Because I could see there was no path left for me to be respected that.

TLDR: Women aren’t “assertive” because men turn into raging lunatic de-aged monsters when they are. That’s some pretty strong negative reinforcement

a lot of behaviors that get attributed to "female socialization" can be so much more easily and accurately understood as a person recognizing the power differential surrounding them and behaving sensibly in response to that.

like. does a woman politely listen to a man monologue at her because of some experience she had when she was twelve that magically cursed her to behave that way forever, or does she do it because the man has the power to hurt her and she knows it?

does a woman do all the dishes in her household because she is less capable of breaking out of a long-ago conditioned response than, like, your average trained dog, or is she doing that because she knows that all the men in the house will blame her if she doesnt and will make life worse for her if she speaks up?

maybe a lot of sexist patterns of behavior that are widely observed in society arent caused by women like, lacking willpower or backbone? maybe it is super fucking weird for supposedly feminist movements to imply this is the case when they talk about female socialization as the end all, be all of predicting human behavior?

isnt it both more useful and more respectful toward women to consider that they are perceiving their present circumstances accurately, and recognize when power is already being wielded against them, and take logical measures to deescalate and protect themselves because it works? is it not fucking clear to everybody that trans women in particular have to do this all the fucking time?

[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

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|| 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.

[hayleythesugarbowl]

hiii ive read all your spencer x reader fics and love them sm!! your writing is amazing, you’re so talented 🫶

if you’re up for a request, i was wondering if you could maybe do one with a british reader or an actress/starkid member reader? (or even both in one!! maybe they meet starkid through a show they do in london or something? idk haha)

American Smile || Spencer Agnew x british!reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: when smosh comes to london to to do a show you also happen to be a part of, you and spencer hit it off

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mild langauge, i’m american so probably inaccurately depicted london/british, shameless taylor swift references i’m just a girl 💌

a/n: OH WE ARE SO BACK ‼️ it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written for smosh (or at all) and i’m happy to be back. i’m so so sorry this request took me so so long to get to love but i hope you enjoy nonetheless! i am not familiar with starkid at all so i just made this british!actress!reader. this was such a perfect little meet-cute idea. enjoy!!

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     “Sorry!”

     You were bumped hard from behind and you turned around to find a very apologetic-looking woman pushing a large cart. 

     “It’s alright, love,” you assured her.

     As she continued past you, you took a moment to look around you. It was a lot to take in. People bustling about, equipment being moved, other people just arriving.

     They had already begun to set up for the event taking place the next day. You had just gotten here yourself. You took a deep breath, feeling the lanyard around your neck between your fingers. 

     Every year, London held a huge comedy event and you were lucky enough to be invited this year. You were staying in a hotel room above the place but you hadn’t seen it yet. 

     The man at the window had told you to come straight backstage of venue so you could be given a tour before you settled in. Truthfully you just wanted to rest after the day or travel you’d had—you didn’t live to far from the city, but still. You felt for the performers who were coming from out of the country. 

      “When do you think they’ll start this bloody tour?” You mumbled to yourself “I’m starving.”

     You looked around you. It looked like many of the performers were already here. It was quite crowded. You saw many people standing together—group acts—and a couple of solo ones—like yourself.

     You were a pretty big local actor—The Times’ words, not yours—and you had dabbled in comedy for the past few years. You were excited to finally show off that side of your skill set here. 

     Finally, a woman a few yards away from you called out, “Alright, if I could get all of the performers in tomorrow’s show over here. We’re going to go ahead and get started.”

     You walked to where she had pointed and joined the rest of the people waiting. 

     “If everyone could follow me—” The woman started, but she was interrupted by the double doors at the back of the room bursting open.

     A large group of people came rushing in to a chorus of “Were here! We’re not late! Don’t start without us! I told Ian we shouldn’t have taken the Underground!”

     You covered your mouth to suppress a laugh. The woman in charge, however, didn’t look as pleased. She walked over to meet them slowly, fixing them with a glare. 

     “I’m assuming you’re Smosh?” She asked the group.

     A few murmurs went trough the room. Smosh? You heard people mutter. 

     “What’s Smosh?” You asked a woman next to you. She couldn’t have been younger than 75. 

     “Oh they’re a hoot, darling, you’ll see,” was all she said. 

     From listening to the people around you, you gathered that they were an American YouTube comedy group that was also participating in this event.

     You watched as they got checked in and as you scanned over them, your eye caught on a man standing towards the back. He was leaning towards the person next to him, hands in his pockets, presumably making a joke based off of the reaction by the other. 

     Then all of a sudden he looked your way and your eyes snapped back to your hands in front of you. You felt your cheeks warm at getting caught staring. But blimey he was bloody gorgeous! 

      Eventually Smosh made their way over to where you were standing and the woman, looking more stressed and disgruntled than ever, addressed the group. 

    “Right,” she’d said, looking pointedly at the late-arrivers. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get this done with, alright?”

     She began leading you on her tour. You were glad to finally get started. 

     “How about all these British people?” A voice to your left said.

     You turned to find the man you’d been watching earlier, leaning towards you conspiratorially. When you didn’t say anything, he continued.

     “They’ve all got their knickers in a twist, eh?” He said in a mock-English accent.

     You raised an eyebrow at him.

     “Oh god, you’re one of the British people aren’t you?” He said, eyes wide.

     You smiled, amused. “I’m afraid so. Although my knickers are perfectly fine, thank you.”

     His eyes widened even more when he heard your accent. “Well then, I think I must’ve set some record because I’ve only been in your country for two hours and I’ve already insulted three locals.”

     “Three?” You questioned.

     “Tried this same bit at airport security,” he confessed. “They were less pleased. Remind me never to show them our Gentleman’s videos. Called me a wanker, which I’m assuming is not good.”

     You giggled. “Not quite. So I hear you’re a comedian?”

     “Can you write my next resume?” He joked. “But yeah, I do comedy stuff. And other stuff. We’re on YouTube—all of us at Smosh.”

     He gestured to the dozen or so other people with him. None of them looked your way though. 

     “And I'm assuming you’re not just here to cater?” He asked you.

     “No, I’m one of the performers,” you answered. “But a pastry does sound lovely right about now.”

     A moment of silence passed and you listened to the woman at the front talk about the history of the building. 

     “I’m Spencer, by the way,” the man said. “Spencer Agnew.”

     You shook his hand. “(Y/n). (Y/n) (Y/l/n).”

     “That’s so normal,” Spencer acknowledged. “I was expecting something more British.”

     “More British?” You repeated.

     “Yeah, I don’t know, like something from Downton Abbey. Dowager Countess Maryanne whatever.”

     “I don’t think you’ve ever seen that show,” you teased. “And you are aware that it’s the 21st century?”

     “Already? How long have I been in this building?”

     You laughed again. He was charming, Spencer. You were so engrossed in talking to him that you were hardly paying attention to the tour. 

     “Hey, what are you doing after this?” Spencer whispered, glancing at the woman giving the tour, probably hoping she didn’t notice him not paying attention.

     Going back to my hotel room, getting some rest and ordering room service, was what you meant to say. What came out was—

     “Nothing. I’m not doing anything.”

     You didn’t know what made you say it. You just knew you wanted to spend more time with Spencer.

     “Me neither,” Spencer said flippantly and you felt your cheeks flame at assuming he wanted to do something with you. Then he cracked a smile. “I’m just kidding. You wanna grab a bite to eat? I’d go myself but I don’t know any of the good spots.”

     “That sounds brilliant, I’m starving.” You nodded.

     “Great. And maybe afterwards you can show me around the city, make sure I don’t offend anyone else.”

     “It’s a date,” you said. “Anything to stop you ruffling more feathers.”

     Spencer smiled brightly at you and you couldn’t help but beam back. You couldn’t wait for your date with Spencer. Even though you had just met him, you were already more excited about an afternoon with him than the actual comedy event. 

     “Hey, I can’t be doing that bad,” Spencer joked. “I did convince the most attractive person in here to go out with me.”

     “Stop it,” you teased, batting his arm. He looked down at where you had touched him.

      “It’s true,” he said, looking shy all of a sudden. “If this is what all British people look like, I’m staying in this country forever.”

     “You’re not half bad yourself,” you told him, hoping he didn’t see your cheeks flush.

     “Very encouraging,” Spencer said. “But I better join my people before they think they lost me. Again. I’ll tell you that story tonight. At eight?”  

     You nodded. “Perfect. I’m looking forward to it.”

     Spencer winked, kissing you lightly on the cheek before backing up. “Later Countess Cute Accent.”

     You giggled, watching him turn around and head back to his friends and coworkers. 

     “Dude,” you heard him say to one of his friends. “I just had a real life, reverse London Boy moment. Taylor said ‘God I love the English’ and I felt that.”

     You smiled. You were only thinking of Spencer as you turned back towards the front of the still-moving group. You still felt the ghost of his kiss on your face, and your heart still pounded inside your chest. You couldn’t wait to get to know him better.

     “And if you look to your left you’ll see the flying buttresses deigned by the late…”

     The guide kept speaking but you weren’t paying attention. 

     Reverse London Boy huh? You thought. Well then, boy I fancy you. 

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ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed!! this was so much fun to write 💋

[ponkydraws]

Johnlock rant pt 2

You thought I was only gonna write Sherlock’s perspective? No. Anyway. John.

Spoilers + suggestive themes ahead.

You have been warned.

John is introduced as a character who has trust issues and is wary of the world, partially because of his PTSD. He is a retired soldier. He has seen it all. But as Mycroft remarks, “you’re not haunted by the war. You miss it.”

There is a very obvious difference in John’s reaction to Sherlock’s deduction and Mycroft’s deduction. He’s star struck when Sherlock does it, but when Mycroft does the same thing he glares at him and asks “who the hell are you?” Yes, the circumstances of the scenes obviously affect his reactions, but even with a dead woman on the ground in front of him he can’t help but praise Sherlock’s intellect, so clearly discomfort isn’t much of a factor. You could argue that John is being defensive on account of being scared, but Mycroft outwardly tells John “you don’t seem very afraid” and John simply says “you don’t seem very frightening”.

And to add onto this, Mycroft clearly has suspicions about their relationship and outwardly says so. John simply says “I barely know him, I met him…yesterday” and Mycroft says “Mm, and since yesterday you’ve moved in with him and now you’re solving crimes together. Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?” John doesn’t respond nor acknowledge the question, but asks “who are you?”. Mycroft simply assumes that the man Sherlock is living with is a romantic and/or sexual partner, meaning he’s not surprised at all by the idea that Sherlock would be in a relationship with a man.

When John asks what he wants he says that he wants information about Sherlock, but quickly adds “nothing indiscreet. Nothing you’d feel…uncomfortable with. Just tell me what he’s up to.” Which does sound like a polite way of saying that he doesn’t want nor need to know about what he gets up to behind closed doors (presumably with John, since he says nothing that JOHN would be uncomfortable with telling, not Sherlock), he just wants to check on how his brother is doing. The definition for indiscreet also is “having, showing, or proceeding from too great a readiness to reveal things that should remain private or secret” so I think it speaks for itself what he’s implying. He’s just an older brother who wants to make sure his younger brother is okay, but makes sure to inform John that he’s not interested in hearing about Sherlock’s sex life.

Other than that, Mycroft seems to genuinely like and respect John. He bids him farewell when leaving, asks him about his life, even if it’s just “what’s it like living with Sherlock?” And Mycroft clearly knows how much John means to Sherlock. They have this semi-brother in law situation going on

John has on multiple occasions risked his own life to save Sherlock’s. When Moriarty is threatening Sherlock, he throws himself at Moriarty and tells Sherlock to run. This is despite the knowledge that this would get himself killed & “if your sniper pulls that trigger, Mr Moriarty, then we both go up” and Moriarty mainly shows amusement, but still tells Sherlock “isn’t he sweet? I can tell why you like having him around.”

In the final problem, John agrees quite quickly that Sherlock should shoot him instead of Mycroft and takes it with stride. He does not fight it. He accepts that he has to die in order for Sherlock to live.

In the very first episode - I repeat - the very first episode, John shoots a man to death because Sherlock was in danger. What’s so interesting about this whole scene is that Sherlock was not under direct threat, he was choosing to take one of the pills but John shot the man anyway.

- Sherlock also realizes halfway through his deduction to the police that John is the one who shot the cabbie, and immediately takes back what he said about the murderer to keep John out of trouble. He does not care about John killing a man, he’s more worried about John’s well being. He even compliments him on the aim and the two of them walk away from the crime scene giggling like 12 year old girls.

John dates a string of women throughout the show although they always end up in some kind of bad ending. As stated in the previous rant, John’s girlfriends are sick of being less important than Sherlock. And if you’re really keen on details (which, you’re watching Sherlock, of course you are) you’ll find that one of the women he dates wears a coat that resembles Sherlock’s, and she pulls her collar up in the same way Sherlock does. Subconscious attraction? Neither does he actually find a long term relationship until he believes that Sherlock is DEAD, and it takes him 2 whole years to even try to move on with his life (but only needed 2 months for Mary’s passing?)

Now, John is a jealous and protective man. Even more outwardly so than Sherlock is. Mycroft even comments on it when they meet for the very first time - “you are VERY loyal, VERY quickly.” he notes as he makes a face that implies even he is surprised about how sure John is of his decision. When faced with a naked Irene Adler and Sherlock in the same room, he actively interrupts their conversation to get in the way. He passively aggressively tells Irene to put some clothes on and then remains skeptical of her for the entire episode. When they’re talking another time he also interrupts and making an unamused joke about baby names.

He displays a sense of protective behavior when he meets Irene again after Sherlock’s alleged “heartbreak” and gets outright mad at her for treating him like that. He even shouts at her despite Irene not showing any aggressive behavior “WHAT DO YOU NORMALLY SAY? YOU’VE TEXTED HIM A LOT”. Speaking of the texts from Irene, John not only is the only one to point out the text notification noise but also admits to actively counting the amount of messages Sherlock has received, which, yeah a handful would’ve been acceptable but this man kept track of 57 NOTIFICATIONS on a phone that’s not his. (This isn’t really a real point but someone joked about how Sherlock asks John “what noise?” When John addresses the moaning text notifications despite knowing very well what noise he’s talking about, as if he’s expecting him to repeat it or something. Not really relevant but it made me laugh)

In this conversation with Irene, he admits to having no clue what Sherlock’s sexuality is, quote: “who the hell knows about Sherlock Holmes, but, for the record, if anyone out there still cares, I’m not actually gay”. Irene responds with “well I am. Look at us both”. Which earns a defeated scoff from John. Irene asks John if he’s jealous about her texting Sherlock so much, John does not answer the question but tells her “we’re not a couple” to which Irene immediately says “yes you are” without even looking up at him. John does not fight back, but makes a vague nod and leaves it at that.

John repeatedly tells various characters that he is not gay - but only that. He never says that he’s not attracted to men, he’s not attracted to Sherlock or anything like that. No. He just says he’s not gay. Bisexuality is a thing. He could very well be a closeted bisexual who struggles a little with accepting it. It’s possible that his lesbian sister wasn’t treated with respect by the family and that has caused some inner turmoil, but that’s a fan theory we’re not going to get into right now

John also seems to be the only one thinking about how gay they look in certain situations. After saving John’s life, John says “I’m glad nobody saw that. You…ripping my clothes off in a darkened swimming pool, people might talk.” As if he didn’t almost just literally explode. A near death experience leaving him weak in the knees and he’s thinking about how people will think he and Sherlock were getting it on in a darkened swimming pool? Okay, buddy. This also goes for when they’re running from the police handcuffed to each other and Sherlock tells John “take my hand!” To which John says “now they’ll definitely talk.” I would argue that if you are constantly thinking about how gay certain things you do with your best friend are and how people will talk, maybe people aren’t the ones who should reevaluate themselves, maybe you are, seeing as you’re having gay thoughts even when fearing for your own life.

Oh and we haven’t even gotten into the pool scene. I don’t know if it was accidental but when Sherlock undoes John’s jacket to get rid of the bombs, he gets on his knees in front of John - who leans his head backwards as Sherlock looks up at him. Then afterward he’s so visibly weak in the knees he has to sit down to even talk. All of this is filmed from behind Sherlock. They could’ve filmed it in any other way. But that’s what they chose? Okay. Totally doesn’t remind me of anything else or anything.

When Sherlock is pretending to be dating Janine, John seems so genuinely out of it. He watches Sherlock and Janine make out with widened eyes, before turning around to stare at the wall with a disgusted and horrified expression on his face. He can’t even pretend to not be shocked, he barely manages to keep himself together and is outwardly very awkward when talking to them. Janine offers that they should have dinner together sometime soon and John just goes “yeah, great. Dinner. Yeah.” With a halfassed smile on his face as if he can’t bring himself to even mimic regular conversation. Once Janine has left, Sherlock starts talking to John about a case. John is not listening. When Sherlock stops talking John just goes “…you have a girlfriend?” And Sherlock seems surprised and confused by the question, since he had already moved on from that conversation. Sherlock confirms that yes, he does have a girlfriend. John still can’t properly process the information and asks again “right, yeah, but…you…you are in a relationship?” Despite already being told the answer.

When Sherlock proposes to Janine, John looks shocked. But it morphs into something else. He looks at Sherlock with a horrified expression, his eyebrows furrowed together in disbelief and his mouth hanging slightly open. This is not the face of someone who is shocked in a good way. It’s the face of someone who just got a metaphorical gut punch. The camera even shifts focus from the ring to John staring at it with a hardened expression, then to staring at Sherlock with a shocked and mildly pleading look.

He also punches an officer in the face for calling Sherlock a “weirdo”. When Sherlock hands him an itemized list of Mary’s enemies he doesn’t even look twice but one vague insult to Sherlock and he gives the man a bloody nose and gets arrested as well - Sherlock taunts him a little with his “joining me?” Comment but seems genuinely a little impressed when he finds out why John is also being taken into custody.

When getting drunk together (which, Sherlock was the only one who John spent his bachelor party with), they get wasted and start to play a game of Who Am I? They’re weirdly gentle and soft with each other, making playful jabs and breaking down into laughter at each other’s statements. Sherlock, who has a note on his forehead that says “Sherlock Holmes”, asks John “am I important?” To which John responds “uh, to some people” and smiles. Sherlock asks “do people like me?” And John says “uh, no, they don’t. You tend to rub them up the wrong way.” And then rests his head on his hand while he lovingly gazes at Sherlock and chuckles at his own statement with a look of love that looks like one you’d give a lover when they’re being cute. John asks Sherlock “am I pretty?” And then follows up with “this” and points to the note on his forehead. Basically this is John asking if he’s pretty, then having to specify that he meant the person Sherlock picked, and not actually himself, as if he was expecting Sherlock to call him pretty without understanding the question was meant for the game. Sherlock does not answer the question, but rather goes on a drunken mini rant about how beauty is a social construct based on culture and John interrupts him saying “yeah, but, am I a pretty lady?”

Sherlock remains quiet, squints at John’s note and then admits “I have no idea who you’re supposed to be”. John rolls his eyes and tells him “you chose the name!” But isn’t genuinely upset, just amused. With his drunken stumbling, he also loses his balance when shifting his sitting position and grabs onto Sherlock’s leg for support. Sherlock doesn’t react. The two of them later fall asleep next to each other on the bottom of the stairs, babbling about nonsense. Mind you, John couldn’t sleep comfortably in a warm bed next to Mary, but had no trouble finding peace when laying down on the fucking stairs next to Sherlock.

During this same evening, John has to interfere and physically drag Sherlock away from a drunk fight at the pub. Same goes for when Sherlock is drugged by Irene, where John comes into the room and promptly grabs ahold of Sherlock and pushes him back onto the bed telling him “I’ll be in the next room if you need me” Sherlock groggily replies with “why would I need you?” And John simply says “no reason” and shuts the door.

Oh also John and Sherlock got locked up together in the same drunk tank. How cute is that?

And oh my god the fucking sexual tension between these two makes me feel like I’m interrupting something intimate. Even in the first episode, Sherlock asks John if he’d seen a lot of violent death. John goes “yeah, plenty. Far too much. For a lifetime.” And when Sherlock then asks “would you like to see some more?” John replies with a breathless “oh god, yes.” The same tone can be detected in the 1800s episode an exchange between Sherlock and John, where John tells Sherlock “ah, ah, ah, Holmes, you have misdiagnosed”. Sherlock lowly says “then correct me, doctor” and gives him such obvious “fuck me” eyes that I felt embarrassed watching the scene with my dad. The episode also includes John asking about Sherlock’s libido - no - I am not joking. And here’s the kicker. None of this is real, it’s all happening inside of Sherlock’s subconscious. So my question is, why does Sherlock’s subconscious make up scenes where his platonic best friend is asking him about certain urges and speaking to him with a flirty tone?

John also has a habit of letting his eyes drop to Sherlock’s lips when talking to him, or straight up licking his lips when Sherlock reveals he’s single (in the pilot). They look into each other’s eyes for just a littleeee too long for it to feel friendly.

This is just me being a little bit of an annoying fan who misinterprets everything but Eurus asks Sherlock to play the violin for her. He does, but she stops him saying “no, not Bach. Play you.” And Sherlock starts playing another tune. She blurts out “oh! Have you had sex?” And Sherlock simply goes “why do you ask?” Again, not answering the question. Obviously that question is a bit strange to ask your older brother when you haven’t even seen him since the two of you were little kids and he doesn’t remember you exist, but, once again he doesn’t feel the need to confirm or deny. I see a lot of people saying this is a hint to Irene, and it probably is, but I personally find it more likely he’d hypothetically find time to get into…adult contact…with someone he lives with. But that’s sidetracking. Anyway.

[milkoomi]

⋆˚࿔ a new canvas means a new you 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

a mini series on the art of becoming a better you

chapter 1 | chapter 2

chapter three — THE ART OF SAYING “NO”

learning to say “no” and having boundaries can really lift you up. it brings you this strength that you felt like would have been impossible to have. the mentality and emotional power it gives you can make you feel unstoppable! however, i know there’s a lot of us out there that may struggle with putting your foot down and saying no. and that’s okay! this chapter is here to teach you that saying “no” and putting your own needs first is something that you are allowed to do! people pleasing is a big thing that stops a lot of us from setting boundaries, and unfortunately, it’s caused us to be put in situations or relationships that aren’t good for us. say “no”! set those boundaries! you have a right to do so.

ᥫ᭡. the importance of putting yourself first

let’s start this chapter off with a discussion on why you need to put you and your own needs first.

you can’t give your best to others when you, yourself, aren’t at your best.

this is one of the biggest lessons i had to learn for myself. i’m not one to always call out from work or miss a lecture, but there are days where my mental health is really struggling and i can’t bring myself to even get out of bed. so, i prioritize myself and take a day to rest, relax, and recharge so that i can continue to give my all the next day! people always talk about prioritizing your health, but they don’t always include mental health, so be sure that when you prioritize your health that you’re also taking your mental/emotional state in mind!

you also can’t expect yourself to give others your best when you aren’t providing yourself the best. if a friend needs you, but you are in a spot where you need yourself more yet you continue to give to another person, then you’ll have nothing left for yourself. one of the first things you hear on an airplane is to put your oxygen mask on first before helping anyone else with theirs. so use that same mindset of helping and taking care of yourself first before you go and help another.

people pleasing gets you nowhere

to piggyback off of the previous statement, if you’re constantly someone’s “yes” man/woman/person, you’re constantly putting yourself in a position that makes you their personal doormat. people will lose respect for you and your boundaries if you’re always trying to please them; they see it all as an opportunity to use and take advantage of you, your time, and your energy.

you can still be a good person while still having boundaries! just because you’re setting a personal boundary for yourself and for others that doesn’t automatically mean you’re selfish or anything along the lines of being a bad person.

ᥫ᭡. how to set boundaries

setting boundaries is key! it’s important that these boundaries are put into place so that your own energy isn’t taken from you, especially when you need your energy the most.

know what your personal limits are

understanding what you will and will not accept will help be the first step into knowing what boundaries you want to set! take time to reflect and ask yourself, “what do i want with my time, my emotions, and my relationships?” know how you want your energy to be spent.

be clear about your boundaries

having a good idea of what you need and want for yourself will help you communicate your boundaries. once you know your own personal limits, create a clear boundary that you want to set for yourself and for others.

use “I” statements

setting a healthy boundary is important, so be sure to use statements with “i feel…” rather than “you…” because those “you” statements can come off as accusatory, and whoever it may be that you’re setting a boundary with may not take kindly to it.

consistency

make sure you’re consistent with your boundaries. reapply or restate them until those boundaries stick. practice, practice, practice! consistency will help to continue to reinforce the boundaries you’ve set!

set consequences

people will cross your boundaries, and it’s going to happen and it will be extremely frustrating. a lot of times, unfortunately, people will continue to cross your boundaries over and over again, so set consequences.

i’m not saying you have to be outright rude or lash out on them; fighting negativity with negativity is an unnecessary stressor to put on yourself. create a plan for yourself that will help you communicate some kind of response for whenever your boundaries are being crossed.

ᥫ᭡. practice saying “no”

saying “no” is one of the key things when setting boundaries. you don’t want to go out with people? say no. your boss is asking you to pick up more hours, but you’re already starting to feel drained? say no. a friend is asking you if they can vent to you, but you’re not in the right headspace to deal with strong emotions? say no.

you can always politely say no, of course, especially in a healthy friendship/relationship or a professional setting.

here’s how:

“i’m not feeling up for it right now, maybe when i’m feeling better another day we can!”

“i can’t take those hours on, i have prior responsibilities i need to attend to.”

“i’m not in the right headspace to take that on right now, but i still love and care for you!”

i know there’s a lot of us who might worry about coming off as rude, but there are so many ways other than the ones i mentioned to say no!

again, you can still be a good person and have boundaries. if anything, having boundaries puts you in healthier mindset and can bring you healthier relationships with people! boundaries are there to strengthen yourself!

you have to be firm and to assert yourself. you know you don’t want your time and your energy to be spent on someone or something that drains you more than replenishes you.

ᥫ᭡. final notes

i just want to keep reiterating that you are allowed to say no and set boundaries. too many of us have lived lives where we felt like our purpose was to please others and give and give until we have nothing left for ourselves. put yourself first! i say this all the time: you are always you’re number one priority. it’s the truth, and i’ll keep saying the truth until it sticks for you because you need to know that for yourself. you are allowed to prioritize yourself, your wants, and your needs. being selfish, for the right reasons, is okay! wanting to take care of yourself and focus on your needs is the right reason to be selfish. you’re allowed to want your own time, you’re allowed to be there for yourself before anyone else, you’re allowed to put your own well-being before others— you should be doing so! becoming a better you means learning to put yourself first!

with lots of love, juno 🌷

[explanationpoint]

note to self: if you’re a trans woman and you become famous, tell people some bs about how you’re not actually trans despite transitioning. it’ll make everyone like you more.

[loveguts]

i’m not a transandrophobia truther in the slightest don’t get me wrong, but i think some people on here really need to realize and comprehend the fact that cis women, way WAY more often than not, hold extremely significant social and political power over trans men the vast majority of the time in our day to day lives

[itspileofgoodthings]

.

[gothteddiesdotcom]

oh my god re: your recent post... the 'girl dinner' shit. omfg. idc if it's 'not that deep' you're still reinforcing terrible shit!!! and also the like 'boys when they see a stick/cool rock' and 'girls when they time travel vs boys when they time travel' wojaks. the gender-fication of barbie vs. oppenheimer. why the fuck is the recent internet zeitgeist hyper stereotypical cisnormativity. like. i thought we had collectively outgrown this.

exactly. And that’s all just some parts of it too. People pretend they’re so on top of things but it’s just because they don’t want to seem out of touch and offensive. It’s wild watching people barf out gender binaries with new terms and new ways to categorize trans people as not their gender and new ways to reinforce the same gender roles on ourselves but in “good” ways now. It’s just….really frustrating and pretty terrifying at the same time

[lesbiansanemi]

Google how to make peace with the fact that you will always be vaguely to extremely uncomfortable (depending on the day) with your body and how others perceive it until the day you die and nothing you do will ever change that

[cetoddle]

every woman on earth is the most beautiful show stopping incredible gorgeous person alive and 90% of men make me go ewwwwww…what is that..

[daydreamerdrew]

I genuinely think that if Bucky had survived WWII (and ignoring Gretchen for a moment) that he wouldn’t have succeeded in forming a strong, lasting relationship with a woman that hadn’t been in combat at all and lived an ordinary life for an American woman at the time. I think it was necessary for him to be with someone like Natasha who could be his partner at home and in work, specifically the kind of fantastical violence and espionage he was involved in. I don’t think he would have actually been able to relate to and understand and be emotionally vulnerable with a woman otherwise. I don’t think he would have expected his work to become his life, but it would. I think about the way Bucky was raised, so embedded in the military and with girls as a distant ideal, the scene in Captain America and Bucky (2011) #620 where Bucky bribes a sergeant into taking him to a dance off-base, which he jokes is like going to heaven. Bucky was a casual, charming flirter for fun during the war in the short periods of time when he was around women, say nurses, but then afterwards to everyone’s shock he wouldn’t have been able to make something last, or if it did last it would have been eventually been begrudging and unhappy. women are nice in concept, he’s attracted to women, but it would have been hard for him to understand someone with such a different life experience, specifically as not having the skills that he values and that impress him, as a full human being. it was Natasha being both an amazing and intrinsically feminine fighter, like a ballerina, that made that work so well, that made him so attracted to her while also genuinely respecting her.

[magical-xirl-4]

Haha would y’all be mad if I said I might be a trans man

[yuribalisms]

Everyday the allure of going on t just for a little bit so my voice gets lower gets stronger

[teamdays]

proseka movie getting an official global release is exciting cause well it’s fun I want to go watch it and will if it’s in a theater near me but also the thought of actually going to be in a theater with Other people there to watch it might actually make me so embarrassed with myself I’ll die on the spot walking up to the theater

[shoveitevil]

gang im still as sad as i was b4 my birthday but in a new hopeful way with way more questions so that’s interesting