#sorry i made dave a jerk

[suzdin]

Neighborly Affairs

Neighbor!Dave x f!reader

Summary: Dave helps you make some daiquiris for the neighborhood cookout

Word Count: 1,149

Warnings/Triggers: 18+ mdni, nipple play, sex in a kitchen, agoraphillia/sex with the risk of being caught, infidelity, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, creampie, possessive marking/branding, cum play, mentions/usage of alcohol

Notes: I apologize to everyone who’s been waiting for updates from me for months now. I haven’t forgotten. My brain fog has been nasty, making it difficult to just be conscious most days, let alone actually think and function. I’m slowly getting better and I’m hoping that by actually writing/posting something, it will motivate me to finish my WIPs.

Sorry if it sucks, but I tried.

Thank you and I love you. 💕

—

His hands are under your bra, tweaking your puckered nipples with the same amount of care as fine tuning an instrument, flattening and rolling the pert buds between the pads of his fingers.

He groans in your ear when you arch against him, his burgeoning erection pressed between your ass cheeks, grinding you in slow, deliberate strokes.

You had volunteered to make a fresh batch of daiquiris for the cookout only a few moments before, with barely enough time to gather the materials before Dave was on top of you like a moth to a flame.

“What if Carol catches us?” you murmur under your breath, your eyes flitting anxiously to the French doors that lead out to the backyard, not even ten paces from where Dave has you pinned against the kitchen island.

“Then she can watch,” he growls in your ear, quickly extricating his right hand from your bra to snake down your torso, slipping into the front of your shorts.

His fingers tease along your slick, puffy folds, making you arch even more, your ass grinding instinctively against him.

“So wet for me already,” he croons, his warm breath ghosting over your skin, “You want me inside you, don’t you?”

Before you can answer, his index and middle fingers circle your engorged clit, touching you in all the ways he knows drives you wild, causing your hips to jerk, and a sound that roughly resembles a yes to escape your lungs.

“That’s what I thought,” he whispers. “Dirty girl, wanting me to fuck her in the neighbor’s kitchen…”

The barriers of clothing between your bodies are swiftly tugged to the side, Dave’s dark gaze shifting briefly to the festivities in the backyard to make sure you’re still in the clear.

He lines himself up with your entrance, coating the head of his cock in your slick before slowly sheathing himself inside of you.

“I should fuck you with others around more often. You’re so fucking tight right now, sweetheart,” he purrs against your skin.

He sinks himself to the hilt, relishing the feel of you for a beat before pulling almost all the way out, proceeded by a fierce snap of the hips, thrusting you against the countertop with such fervor, such tenacity, you nearly topple over the bottle of rum.

He repeats the maneuver several more times before setting a steady, but still hurried, pace, his palm over your mouth, ensuring he’s the only one that gets to hear you like this.

If you could see yourself right now, you would see how fucked out and delirious you are already. Your eyes glistening, a thin layer of sweat prickling your skin.

His opposite hand grasps your hip in a nearly bruising hold, keeping your body flush against his as he continues to drive himself into you, the sounds of skin smacking skin filling the small kitchen.

“So good. So good for me. Like you were made for me, taking my cock like a champ,” he praises, his lips pressed to your ear.

He plants a trail of reverent kisses down your throat, beginning with the soft apex where it joins your neck, slowly making his way down.

He tugs the collar of your shirt aside, exposing the dip in your collarbone, suckling at the delicate skin there until he leaves you branded, covering it with your shirt again once he’s done, a triumphant smirk tugging at his lips.

He abruptly releases his hold on you and pulls out, gripping you by your waist to hoist you onto the counter, pushing into you once again now that you’re at the perfect height and angle.

“Oh, fuck…” you murmur when he sinks into you a second time, biting your bottom lip to prevent yourself from being too loud.

“So pretty when you bite your lip like that,” he praises, holding you in place as he begins railing into you with abandon, his lower jaw jutting forward in a silent, primitive snarl.

You bury your face against his shoulder to muffle the series of lewd noises that begin to escape of their own volition. Yet, much to your surprise, Dave’s fingers almost instantly wrap around the back of your neck, pulling your head up so he can watch you.

“No. You keep your eyes on me. I don’t care if anyone hears,” he grunts, his hand settling on your hip again.

Every stroke into you brushes that soft, spongy patch of nerves at the back of your tunnel, making your toes curl in your shoes, your fingers grabbing at his shoulders for purchase.

“I’m so close, fuck…” you pant, your forehead pressed to his as you will yourself to not look away, your eyes naturally wanting to roll back into your skull.

“That’s right. You come for me. Come all over my cock,” he growls in a low, dark timbre, his breath fanning over your lips.

A few more well placed strokes follow and then you’re seeing stars, a cry emanating from your chest, one that’s too loud for you to be comfortable, so you clamp your own hand over your mouth in an effort assuage any suspicion of what’s currently going on.

Your walls clench and convulse around him, practically choking his cock as you peak, and it isn’t much longer until he follows suit as well, releasing into you with a low, guttural growl, the feel of his seed hitting your g-spot prolonging and intensifying your orgasm.

Your bodies fall limp and listless for a moment as you twitch with the aftershocks of your individual highs, basking in the post coital glow and gradually floating back down to earth.

He eventually pulls out of you, a whine escaping your throat at how empty you suddenly feel. But he soon replaces his length with two thick fingers, swirling your entrance as he catches traces of himself before it can fall, pushing every last drop back in and then licking his fingers clean, relishing the taste of your combined fluids.

“Want you leaking me the rest of the day,” he rasps, placing a gentle kiss to the soft spot just behind your ear. His favorite.

You hurriedly pull your clothes back into place, straightening and composing yourselves just in the nick of time, your neighbor unexpectedly striding into the room.

“Sorry, it took me a minute to find the blender,” you tell them, almost bashful, hoping that your lie holds true, Dave grabbing someone else’s warm, abandoned beer off the counter behind him, acting as though he’s been drinking it this entire time.

When the neighbor eventually wanders back out, Dave discards the beer and places a soft kiss to your lips this time.

“Better hurry up with those daiquiris. People are waiting, you know,” he remarks with a wry smirk, leaving you alone as he rejoins the others, your lingering scent still on his skin and clothes.

[mustainegf]

This idea came to me and I needed to write it bro

SUMMARY: Looking through his friends drawer for a shirt she’d borrowed from him, Dave finds something else hidden. A vibrator. This is the very thing that encourages him to shut himself in the bathroom, bringing the toy along with him.

WARNINGS: Sex toy male & female use, masturbation, mutual masturbation, kinda perverted Dave,

As I rifled through her drawers, searching for one of my shirts, that's when I saw it. Smooth, white silicone. With quirked brows and interest, I reached for the unknown object.

I pulled it out, eying it for a second before I realized what it was. Its a vibrator.

I've seen them before, but not like this. This one is small and thin, made for discreetness and silence.

It had three different modes, a red light for power and it looked new. Ilet out a low chuckle, a mixture of surprise and curiosity. She never showed any interest in such things before, yet here it is.

What a filthy girl, keeping this littletoy to herself.

My dick was stirring to life in my pants at the thought of her using the toy in my hand.

Sure, it felt a little wrong to be staring at something of hers that was so private, but my cock was aching harder as the seconds passed.

I couldn't help but wonder how many times she had used it. I pressed the button and the soft vibrations met my palm. Not too strong, not too weak. Just right. I could almost picture her in bed, basked in the dark of the night, moaning out my name as she pressed the toy to her most sensitive spots.

| I gulped, my bulge becoming uncomfortable.

Fuck it.

I quickly shut the drawer, heading to her small bathroom. She was downstairs watching tv, surely she wouldn't find out, as long as I was quick.

Ilocked myself into the small room, sitting down on the closed toilet, the vibrator still buzzing in my grasp.

I took a deep breath, unfastening my pants. She would never know, after all. My reddened and aching cock sprang up, begging to be inside her.

Sadly I'd have to do with just my hand.

The head of my cock brushed over the base of my belly, already dripping with precum. The little whimpers leaving me were loud, my eyes rolling back as I stroked my member.

I took her vibrator, running it up my length. I wasn't prepared for the sensations it would bring, forcing another whine from me.

The buzzing was powerful. I wondered how often she used this thing. I continued to jerk myself off, my other hand pressing the vibrator to my tip.

I quickened my hand, imagining her playing with herself, forcing the vibrator into her tight pussy.

I ran the toy down my balls, shivering as the head of my cock ached with need.

I knew what I wanted. I wanted to fuck my own hand while the vibrator took care of the rest. It felt wicked. Filthy. And so damn good. I rocked my hips, feeling the seat underneath me creak.

I shook with determination, my fist pumping my cock with so much pressure, I thought I might fall to my knees and spill my cum all over. But I didn’t give in yet, I enjoyed it.

I relished in the idea of the very toy that I pressed to my length had been inside her countless times. I could almost picture her creamy juices dripping from her hole as she would dip the toy back inside her gummy walls.

I shuddered at the thought, my dick straining in my hand.

"Dave, are you okay in her-“ the door opened as she leaned inside, her jaw dropping at the sight.

I dropped her vibrator, it still buzzed on the white tile flooring. "I- fuck, I'm sorry," I stammered, by cheeks going hot. She stared as her own vibrator buzzed on the floor, my cock stood straight up and leaking.

Her eyes darted up to mine, then to her toy, and then to my desperate erection. "Why do you have my vibrator?" she asked, her voice slightly panicked.

I couldn't help but notice she was staring at my dick. That's when everything tumbled out. "I- I'm sorry, I found it on accident, and, uh I... I started thinking, um, about you using it, fuck, I just couldn't stop myself." I admitted, squeezing the base of my cock just at the sight of her. I couldn’t believe I was stupid enough to tell her that.

She only smirked, watching me as I was so vulnerable, my cock twitching.

She rolled her eyes bending over to pick up the toy and shut it off. "You're too cute, Mustaine." She remarked as I tried to cover my dick.

"Come to bed, I'll show you how you're supposed to use it..." she grinned, stepping out of the bathroom.

I bit my lip, my heart beating rapidly in my chest.

Did she really mean what she said?

I sat up quickly, leaving my jeans and boxers on the floor. I looked like an idiot, in my t shirt, my dick standing proud in attention, but I needed her.

She'd just let me watch her play with herself? My cock grew harder at the idea as I quickly made my way out of the bathroom and back into her room.

She was laid back, squirming softly. My heart sped at the sight. She had stripped out of her pants and underwear, her delicate fingers rubbing her clit.

Oh god, I was going to lose my mind. I cleared my throat, as I kneeled onto the bed, my gaze locked on her gorgeous pussy. "Please," she rasped, glancing at me with those big eyes. "Oh God, Dave please." She teased.

I clenched my jaw, my hand finding my cock, pumping myself slowly as I watched her play with herself.

I reached to touch her dripping slit, but she held my hand back. "No touching. Not after you jerked off with my toy," she taunted, grabbing the vibrator. "If you can sit and watch, maybe I'll let you touch," she said softly.

"Oh, God," I groaned, unable to control myself. She bit her lip, her soft hair fanning around her face.

She turned on the vibrator, slowly sliding it past her wetness, she did this all while staring at me.

The power exchange shocked me. She controlled me, controlled her pleasure. I gritted my teeth, pumping myself in time with her touch.

She pressed the toy to her hole, whining as she did so, "ohh, Dave..."

her voice cracked. My eyes rolled to the back of my head, my body tensing. I had to stop. I wouldn't last long like this.

But the look on her face... her beautiful face. As if she was in pain, yet wanting more. I couldn't leave her like this. She was desperate for release. "Fuck, baby," I growled, pumping my cock faster.

She gasped, moving the toy deeper. She wanted it.

She needed it.

I kept my gaze on her, willing her to keep going. "Good girl, cum for me, I'm almost there," I told her, stroking faster.

Her thighs trembled, her hands gripping the sheets as she came, her body arching, her back bowing. "Ohhh!" she screamed, the walls of her pussy contracting. She was beautiful.

"You're gonna make me cum.." I whined.

She smiled at me, giving her breasts a purposeful squeeze.

I couldn't take it anymore. I stroked harder, faster, cumming hard and quick. I groaned, releasing my seed all over her stomach and hips. I kept my eyes locked on her as I enjoyed the final waves of my orgasm.

I shuddered again, looking down at her perfect body, soaked in my cum.

“That’s it, you look so pretty covered in my cum…” I panted, unable to boil my eyes away from her.

"Do you wanna fuck me now?" She asked with a snicker.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Omg can you please do a part 2 to the “pervert Dave” headcannons, I’m begging, thank youu

A/n: Don't ask why I changed the format for this one, can't explain, just enjoy <3

Warnings: Smut, overstimulation, dom!reader sub!Dave, slight bondage, begging, if you think I missed something please let me know otherwise enjoy :3

Link to part 1

He hadn’t quite noticed you yet, eyes shut tight as his hand kept moving up and down his length. The little piece of fabric in his hands, your panties, was soaked through with his cum. You could tell by how red his dick was that he’d been going at this for a while

You watched him, mesmerised at how he moved, the sounds he made. Soft moans and low grunts. How his back arched slightly, indicating he was close again.

“Naughty boy.” You said at last, clueing Dave into your presence. He shot up and covered himself with the blanket, tossing the used panties away, as if you hadn’t already seen them.

“I-I’m sorry! Fuck, I didn’t- I didn’t know you were coming over.” He sputtered, face flushed a bright red as he looked anywhere but you.

You tsked and shook your head at him. “Touching yourself with my clothes?” You came over and sat on the edge of the bed. “Could’ve just asked for some help, you know.” Dave stared at you as you came over to sit with him, taking in everything you’re saying.

“I-I could’ve..?” He asked, his voice airy. You nodded with a hum.

“Not anymore.” You said with a sigh. “You lost that chance, didn’t you?” Dave shook his head and reached out for you, not caring that the blanket moved off of him.

“No, no, I didn’t! I didn’t mean to, please!” He whined, tugging on your arm. “Please fuck me.” You chewed your cheek, looking him up and down. You smirked and reached for his pulsing cock, giving it a few slow strokes.

“You wanted to cum so bad, did you?” He whined in response and relaxed a little as you started jerking him off. Of course you wanted him to get what he wanted, helping him to reach another high, but that wasn’t all you had planned. He wanted to cum, so he’s going to cum until you’re done.

Dave was now on his back, you had to tie his wrists to the bed at some point because he just wouldn’t stop squirming. His stomach, chest and thighs were all covered in spurts of his cum, the bed sheets were also soaked through and your hand was no exception to his mess.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, he was sobbing and begging for you to stop but you knew he didn’t want you to, not when he was helplessly bucking his hips up to your hand.

You never thought you’d love seeing him in this state so much, all fucked out and whining like a bitch in heat. You couldn’t stop yourself from pulling more and more orgasms out of him, all just to see his face contorted in pleasure.

You could see in his eyes he could barely stay conscious so you decided enough was almost enough. “Just one more for me, alright? Just one more’s all I need, baby boy.” He whined softly at that but nodded and continued to squirm in your hold. His cock twitching in your hand as you sped up once more.

It didn’t take much at this point, he was ready to cum untouched and the way you toyed with his tip had him drooling and soon he was leaking all over your hand again, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Dave’s body finally gave in, going limp onto the mattress beneath him. His body was still twitching as he looked up at you, eyes glazed over and not fully focusing on your figure. You smiled at him and gave him a quick peck on the forehead before going off to get something to clean him up with.

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 23 “Smells Like Sheet”[Episode List]

Due to a cliché, Tim and the-gassy-as-usual Dave have to share a bed. Who could possibly know what's gonna happen next... though it may involve a dutch oven that's for sure.

POV: Tim

Smells Like Sheet

“Tim Slade and Dave Maning, right?” the receptionist kindly asked.

The hotel hall around us was way too… glittery for my standards, but that’s what happens when Dave asks you to join him for a business trip. Well, not really a business trip, but rather a rather some kind of celebration for a milestone that The Company he works for reached, and given that it was also thanks to him, he was invited to this very special dinner. However, it wasn’t as fancy or formal as the location may suggest, as Dave’s boss did tell everyone that they could let one friend or partner join the night: after all, it was a party.

My bro usually hates going to “parties” planned by The Company but since this celebration in particular was an important event, which also could lead to yet another promotion, me, our other friends and Dana (his girlfriend) basically forced him to go.

What I didn’t expect is that I’d be the one joining him instead of Dana. This happened for 2 reasons:

Reason 1: Dana was busy with her own job and couldn’t join his boyfriend even if she wanted to but, just like him, she too hates this kind of events (they’re really made for each other, huh? Can’t say I disagree however…).

Reason 2: Dave actually wanted to introduce me to his boss because they’re looking for someone with video-making skills to film something for them, maybe some kind of motivational video that corporations love to do.

So here we are, the receptionist of this fancy hotel handing us the key to our room.

“Here you go: Room 669”

“Heh. Ni-Nice” both me and Dave said, because our brains stopped working at the same time.

The receptionist pretended he didn’t hear a thing, thankfully.

We then walked through the fancy hall and took the elevator, just the two of us. We didn’t have any luggage with us, since it was just for one night, so our backpacks were enough.

“So silent…” Dave said.

“What?” I asked.

“This elevator. I can hear my own heart beating. I’m impressed.”

I stared at him, his tall figure, wearing a grey shirt and pair of black jeans. My mind immediately went to one time we took an elevator ride together and immediately stopped him before he could do anything uncalled for.

“Dude, have mercy. There’s other people who’s gonna need this elevator.”

Dave was standing next to me and turned to me, sporting a puzzled expression. He seemed confused by my words, I could tell he wasn’t being sarcastic or anything, maybe.

“What? What do you mean?”

Right. It’s not like people always thinks about farts… not that I do, believe it or not. 

I felt very embarrassed to be honest.

“S-sorry. I just thought… y-you know…” 

“Ok… you’re stuttering like an idiot…” he said. “so I’m pretty sure you thought I was going to break the silence with one of my farts, right?” the way he asked it so casually was already oddly… hot for me, but also reassuring.

“Yes.” I simply replied, hating the elevator for how long it was taking to reach our destination. “I’m sorry. But believe me, I was telling you this because I don’t want people to choke on your gas.”

He leaned towards me a bit. “Unless it’s you, right?” he whispered, the bastard.

“Shut up!” I said, as he laughed like a jerk.

Once again, silence. Dave being chill around me makes me stutter more than his blasts.

However, after like 10 seconds, I decided to break the silence instead.

“You were totally going to far-“

“Yes” he cut me off “I was totally going to destroy this elevator but you, of all people, stopped me.”

We both laughed like idiots and the doors opened. Indeed, people stepped inside as we left. They don’t know that I probably saved their nostrils, I’m the unsung hero of their story.

—

We reached our room mere seconds later. We stepped inside, but not before both me and Dave could once again go “Ni-nice” at the same time the moment we saw our room number hanging on the door. This is gonna be a thing for the next few ours so brace yourself, readers.

The room was exactly as you may expect: big, fancy, with all the comforts and more, big windows and a nice view on the city, and a queen-size bed in the middle. I almost felt out of place: it truly looks like a perfect room for an actual couple.

And no, weirdly enough the queen bed didn’t make me nervous: both me and Dave knew it was gonna happen so I already had my awkward phase back at home. My friend is chill and he doesn’t care about sharing the bed with a gay man like me, plus it already happened sometime ago anyway.

All of those doubts always sound so silly when I stop and remember how I spend way too much time with my face planted into my friend’s farting ass, courtesy of his skills and the fact that in his own non-kinky way he enjoys making sure that almost none of his farts go to waste. Well, none except the one he started ripping as I opened my backpack and sat on the bed, his way to assert dominance every time we go into a hotel room. Loud, long and proud, around 7 seconds long, so basically a medium-sized one for Dave’s standards. 

My bro raised his left hand and pointed his index finger up as the fart ended on a high note, as if he was conducting his own rip like it was an orchestra. As the blast ended, he just stared at me with a silly smile, something that he’d always do even before he found out about my kink: he’s just your average gassy friend, can’t do anything about that.

“So…” I tried to ignore the scent that reached my nose. “What’s the plan for tonight?” I asked.

“First thing first, we gotta take a shower. Not together at the same time I’m afraid. You can go first.”

“You can join me if you want…” I said, winking at him as I went into the bathroom.

“D-don’t make me horny dude!” he jokingly replied.

—

I was drying my hair by the bed while Dave took a shower (it was his turn). As I said, while it wasn’t the fancy night one might except, we kind of had to look really good, me especially, because Dave’s boss is a fine guy, but also one of those “first impression is best impression” dudes. I mean, the shower was obvious, but me going as far as making sure my hair look great, while normally I wouldn’t even use a comb, is telling.

I heard, or rather, didn’t hear the shower anymore so I knew Dave was done. What I did hear however was his ass being talky tonight, exploding in a thunderous, wet post-shower rip that easily surpassed the hair dryer’s notably loud sound. I didn’t properly see Dave ripping ass, but the fact that I could hear it so clearly was yet another proof of his incredible skills. He didn’t even comment on it, I mean it’s not like every time he farts we have to acknowledge my kink, when even I sometimes just ignore it.

“I hope you heard that, honey.” 

I heard the bastard say from the bathroom.

Yes, I sometimes just ignore it… until Dave makes sure I don’t.

—-

Finally we were ready to leave. The Company held this important dinner basically downstairs, in the hotel’s restaurant. They basically booked the entire place so we could eat, drink and just hang out together, talking about business in a surprisingly relaxing and chill environment. This was reflected in our clothes, as they were formal-ish but not, you know, wedding-tier. Dave was wearing a white shirt, sleeves pulled up, black jeans and black sneakers. I was basically dressed the same, only my shirt was grey.

“Nice. You almost look fuckable tonight.” my friend told me, as he sprayed some last bits of deodorant around us.

“I was gonna tell you the same.” 

“Well... we are in room 669 you know...” he winked at me and then headed for the door.

(Ni-Nice!)

—

Dinner was pretty good and varied, they really spared no expenses, especially considering how The Company even paid for everyone’s rooms (not that there were many guests, but still). There was meat, vegetables and even some vegan options on the menu. Both me and Dave liked the idea of trying a bit of everything, while most of the other work colleagues went for a pure carnivore approach. Alcohol was beer or wine, or both, but better not mix things up. 

Dave’s boss sometimes proposed a toast blabbering about how The Company is actually one big family… before laughing at his own overused figure of speech: he was cynical yes, but I can respect his self-awareness and lack of no-nonsense speeches about how “we’re all in this together” when we all know this isn’t true.

It all went pretty well: food was great, most of my friend’s colleagues were pretty cool I guess, and after talking for like 30 minutes, the boss simply told me to send him my portfolio, no strings attached or anything. 

Honestly I had more fun than I was expecting. Almost everything was free and everyone, whether it was a facade or not, was very nice to us, so honestly I can’t complain, only appreciate this fancy-ish night.

—

At around 2:00 AM, Dave and I got back to our room (Ni-Nice!), announcing our entrance with Dave letting out a loud belch that I’m sure tasted like the dessert. The dinner at the hotel restaurant was pretty straight-forward so once we were done eating and drinking, we had like 2 more hours of casual chatting and more drinking. There was music but it’s not like the place turned into a disco for us.

We weren’t really tired nor drunk, just a bit tipsy. We clumsily removed our shoes and collapsed on the bed. I turned the TV on and we just casually mindlessly watched it while checking our phones.

Being a queen size bed, Dave was obviously lying next to me, to my left: he was shirtless, sporting a pretty good body figure, no actual ribs but pecs were there. Given how much we ate and drank tonight, he also looked slightly bloated. His black jeans were in fact pretty loose as he untied his belt once we got back into the room. Covering his feet, a kind of out-of-place but weirdly cute pair of purple socks with a butterfly pattern on it.

We finally could talk about the night we just had, The Company itself, and most importantly make not very polite comments about a co-worker Dave particularly despises for how fake he is, one of those people ready to throw you under a bus even if that means he can get something as worthless a pat on the back by the boss.

“Your boss however” I said “really surprised me. He looks pretty chill. I think I might even enjoy working for him, about the video and all you know.”

“Yeah.” my friend remarked. “I mean he still IS the boss don’t let that fool you, but he is quite honest at least.”

 “I’ll keep that in mind when I’ll get to make the video… if he wants me to do it of course.”

“Did you send him your portfolio?”

“I just did actually. I had it zipped on my phone.”

Dave gently punched my shoulder in approval, because we’re really mature men.

“Well done bro.” he said. “I guess we gotta celebrate.”

“Yeah… with fireworks and all.” I said, sarcastically, while checking my phone.

Dave laughed. “I can help with that.”

My friend completely misinterpreted what I said and decided to showoff his well-known skills. He leaned just a bit on his side, pointing his black-denim ass towards my side of the bed, raised his right leg and let it rip. Loud, thunderous and as powerful as they come, Dave’s fart (arguably the first of a long series) almost activated my fight or flight response as I wasn’t really expecting it this time. However, it was as loud as a firework display going off in our room. The more the fart kept going, the more he raised his long leg, effectively adjusting the sound and the tone of the fart, going from lower to higher pitched. 

After I took a good look of his denim ass, I then turned directly to him: he was visibly pushing one out, with a smirk drawn on his face; he looked back at me and smiled, winking at me as the fart still echoed in the room, easily surpassing the sounds coming from the TV, which could very well be set on mute at this point.

This wasn't an elevator, so no way I was gonna stop him this time.

The already long and impressive 15 seconds fart ended with a series of 4 loud toots, which sounded a bit more difficult to properly push out, judging by Dave’s facial expressions; but still, my friend still managed to do it effortlessly, once again showing off this impressive talent. Furthermore, and this goes without saying, the stench hit my face pretty soon, as an invisible gas cloud engulfed our bed. I could basically tell what Dave had for dinner without even taking a deep whiff.

Finally, my friend’s ass went silent. Dave adjusted his position and laid down normally next to me, laughing.

“Dude” I said, trying not to laugh myself “I didn’t mean that kind of fireworks.” 

Dave was visibly puzzled, but amused. I thought he was messing with me but apparently he did misinterpret my words for real.

“Ahah I’m sorry man.” he apologized. “Well it’s not like you mind anyway, don’t you?” 

I just remained silent in front of the truth, doing my best to focus on my phone instead, but Dave obviously wasn’t done, as another loud fart erupted, making the entire bed shake.

I was horny as hell, but I just didn’t know how to act while the second blast was being ripped next to me. I wanted to plant my face into his ass but I didn’t want to take advantage of my friend being so chill about my kink. Plus it’s not like he doesn’t fart in my face; in fact, I’d even say that he facefarts me way too often!

The fart was just as loud as the previous one, if not louder. It was all natural, powered by the dinner we had and the gallons of alcohol he ingested. The smell was there, but Dave’s main treat for me was his ability to rip such long and loud farts so often: he will never cease to amaze me.

12 seconds, a bit shorter than the first one, but still a sight to sore eye… and nose, mostly.

“Alright. I’m gonna get ready to sleep.” he casually said, as he left the bed. “You can still watch the TV if you want, just don’t watch anything too loud.”

I snapped back to reality. “You have the audacity to tell me not to be loud?” 

He laughed, knowing exactly what I was referring to.

“But that’s fine, I’m too tired anyway.” 

We both changed at the same time, slipping into something more comfortable, which consisted in a generic white shirt and sweatpants, for me at least. The room was warm enough so Dave slept shirtless and only wore a pair of black boxers brief, a boxer that, just like his socks, did sport a silly pattern, this time with stars.

I went to brush my teeth and then slipped under the blankets, with my friend joining mere minutes later.

“Goodnight bro.” he said, clapping his hands 2 times, hoping the lights would magically turn off.

Surprisingly enough, the lights did turn off, truly a fancy hotel!

“No fucking way.” we both said, as if we witnessed something that happens once in a lifetime.

They didn’t exactly turn off however, but rather went dim, so I could still kind of see what’s going on. It was dark enough to sleep however, as both me and my bro prefer to sleep in darkness.

Now I felt truly tired, so I rested my head on the pillow and closed my eyes.

As expected, however, my friend wasn’t done talking; well, his ass certainly wasn’t.

I felt its vibrations immediately, as a muffled powerful rip made the bed shake. 

“Still?” I said, pretending to be as annoyed as I could.

“Shhh.” Dave cut me off, his index finger up, basically inviting me to listen to what his butt had to say.

Indeed, the ass was very talk and the fart was indeed impressive, deep-sounding and, well, manly. Despite being muffled, I could perfectly hear it. Fortunately, the stench was trapped under the blankets, like a bed-sized tuna can. My gassy friend knew it, so the bastard, with a deft movement, pullet the blanket all over me, trapping me in the metaphorical tuna can. 

Now I could hear and feel the flatulence properly, as Dave slightly lifted his ass a bit to ease the blast out, which was still going by the way. It felt like my friend trapped me in a queen-sized cage with a wild, roaring beast. The stench also hit me like a truck and every breathe I took made me taste what we had for dinner again. I tried to move, to get out, but Dave had a firm grip on the blanket covering me and he made sure I inhaled every particle of gas he was ripping.

The dutch oven maneuver knows no mercy...

18 seconds and the long fart was finally done. My friend simply laughed but still didn’t let me go.

“If you can handle my boss, I’m sure you can handle... this.” he joked.

Another loud fart erupted, this time "short", 4 seconds, but one of the loudest of the night so far.

In the dark of the dimly-lit room and under the blanket, I could still see his boxer-clad ass, hugging his butt tightly, a very thin layer of fabric enduring incredibly powerful blasts. I'm surprised he didn't tear a hole through his underwear with such raw, powerful farts!

It’s like he knew I was staring, because he moved closer to me, his ass now touching my leg, dangerously close to where my crotch is. 

Now I was the one shaking under Dave’s power, as my friend started farting on me. The fart being ripped so close to my boner was a surreal experience and I felt like my dick was gonna blow, as if it was being struck by an earthquake that it couldn’t endure. Loud, long and proud, my bro’s farts never disappoint. Whether kinks are involved or not, one can only bow to such incredible skills.

My friend still kept me under the blanket as he filled the bed with poisonous gas. I started to cough, which only made Dave laugh like a jerk in response.

This one fart lasted around 9 seconds, but even though the ass was done talking, Dave still kept me under there, making my nostrils burn. He wasn’t directly farting in my face, but somehow this felt worse, stench-wise. There really was no way the gas could get out of that gas chamber made of blankets and I struggled to breathe. 

Now my bro showed off by ripping a quick series of loud, short toots, probably yet another big fart that he’s trying to rip in small doses, further proof of how “crafty” he could be when it came to fart-control.

“You know what…” he said, as the fart stopped.

I could feel he letting the blanket go, so I could easily get out of that gas chamber… but I didn’t want to, because I’m a mess and I wanted to see what Dave had in store for me for this torture.

He adjusted his position and, making sure my head was still under the blankets, he turned his whole long body around, wrapping his legs around my chest and face, fully planting his boxer-clad ass on my cheek. Oh, the pattern was made of hearts, not stars, how peculiar...

I instinctively sniffed and obviously the ass was warm and raunchy, given how much my friend has been farting. However, that wasn’t enough, as I felt him push, resuming the previous fart where it left off, this time however ripping it all at once, not in small doses like before. I just accepted it, I was basically Dave’s fart slave at this point and I didn’t mind. I just appreciated how chill he was, feeling like I was living the most beautiful dream (and nightmare, somehow).

The fart stopped after about 11 seconds.

As my face was completely planted in my friend’s ass, I even struggled to speak.

“I mean… we are in room 669 after all.” I said, trying to make an obvious joke.

I could hear Dave appreciate my dry sense of humor. “Ni-Nice.” he laughed, and then treated me with another quick blast which truly tested my eardrums, other than my nostrils.

Finally, it looked like he was done, as he laid next to me like a normal person. He even lifted the blanket, because I was too horny to do anything apparently. In the dimly-lit room, I could still see his usual smirk as he stared at me, amused by how much of a weirdo I am… or rather by how weirdos we both are in a way.

In terms of stench, the situation outside of that gas chamber wasn’t that different, but it was probably because my nostrils absorbed so much gas that it was impossible for me to sniff anything else, for a while at least.

“You still have to buy us beers though.” Dave said. “This doesn’t count as a celebration.”

“You sure?” I promptly replied. “I did hear the fireworks.”

“Yeah.” he said. “And you sure smell like one.” he cackled.

He then turned his back to me and went to sleep, wishing me goodnight as if he didn’t just rip tons of farts in the face of someone who has a fart kink. As usual, I wanted to thank him, but ironically enough he seemed more annoyed by me being thankful than my fetish, so I just relaxed, trying to ignore my massive boner, and went to sleep myself.

A couple of hours ago, Dave’s boss asked me what are some of my strengths: if “being able to endure my straight bro’s powerful farts” is considered a legit strength, then I’m gonna be CEO of The Company by next week.

End of Episode 23

[dsaf-confessions]

[The scene cuts to the pizzeria as the guard is heard screaming offscreen. The text of the production companies involved plays as the camera pans around the pizzeria, stopping & zooming in a drawing with kids holding hands alongside a yellow rabbit, followed by the opening credits. After the logo shows up, an alarm clock starts beeping. Mike sighs, gets up, turns the alarm off, & hides his pills in a drawer, as the camera pans to the Nebraska poster on his ceiling. He then does push-ups, & after that, the camera cuts to Abby's drawings.]

Mike Schmidt: Abs, you ready? (enters his room, ready for work) Abby? (looks around) Abs. (approaches Abby's pillow fort) Come on, I know you're in there. Let's go. (shakes the sheets) Abby, come on.

Abby Schmidt: Okay, okay. You're being a jerk.

Mike Schmidt: You know I have somewhere to be, come on, let's go. Five minutes, I need you dressed. (gets a plushie thrown at him) Five minutes.

[Cut to a mall, where Mike's co-worker, Jeremiah, reads a book called, "Dream Theory" while slurping a drink.]

Jeremiah: "And though the dreamer remains asleep, he walks through memory as if experiencing it for the 1st time anew, no longer a passenger but an active participant." (puts down the book & chuckles) This stuff for real?

Mike Schmidt: Some people think so, guess it depends on what you believe.

Jeremiah: Summer of '82, I traded a mint condition Cal Ripken Jr. rookie for a used copy of "Missile Command". That card's probably worth 800 bucks now. I wish I could participate in that memory & activelykick my own ass. (looks at the book) Can I keep it?

Mike Schmidt: No. (takes the book)

[Mike waits in line at an ice cream shop as he watches an unsupervised child.]

Female Customer: I would like the walnut fudge, but I want the fudge on the side because I don't want it to melt the ice cream; & can I get some whipped cream on top & 3 cherries?

Cindy: Coming right up.

[Mike notices a man seemingly abducting a child & runs after him.]

Mike Schmidt: HEY! (3x)

[He tackles the man & beats him up in a waterfall. This scene is followed by a security camera feed reading 4/6/2000 on the top left, & right below it, 4:13PM. On the top right, it reads CAMERA 02. Mike is seen on a chair, with his right foot slowly shaking.]

Woman: Number 27? (3x)

[In Steve Raglan's office...]

Steve Raglan: What is your deal, Mike? What are you, some kind of... hate case? You beat up a man in broad daylight; infront of his child.

Little Boy: Daddy!

Mike Schmidt: That was a mistake, um... it was a misunderstanding, I-I thought-

Steve Raglan: Just look at your employment record: Tire Zone, sales associate, 2 months, terminated. Media World, custodial staff, 1 week. It's like you're not trying here, yet you sit before me asking for help. I'm just trying to figure out who you are, Mr. Michael Sch-

Mike Schmidt: Hm?

Steve Raglan: Coffee?

Mike Schmidt: Sorry?

Steve Raglan: Uh, would you, would you like some... some coffee? I made some coffee.

Mike Schmidt: No.

Ness: Hey, welcome to Sparky's! Can I set you folks up with some appetizers?

Jane Schmidt: [gives the menu back to Ness] We're not eating.

Ness: Well that's no fun. You do realize that lunch is the most important meal of the day.

Jeff: I thought it was breakfast.

Ness: Some people say that, but... it's just a theory.

Jane Schmidt: Are you being paid by the word or can we have a minute?

[Ness leaves with the menu in hand.]

[Vanessa presses the Showtime buttom as the animatronics start performing "Talking in your Sleep" by the Romantics.]

Mike Schmidt: This is... this is...?

Vanessa Shelly: The best thing you've seen in your entire life? (the animatronics continue performing) Care to dance? (Bonnie's guitar malfunctions, stopping the performance)

(The supply closet opens by itself.)

Jeff: Hank?

[Bonnie the Rabbit comes out from the janitorial closet and slowly turns to Jeff. He drops his crowbar and runs away as the coins falls off from his bag. He rushes to the office and locks the door.]

[Aunt Jane sits on a chair as the camera pans to Golden Freddy right behind her. Abby is seen in her bed, & soon goes outside.]

Abby Schmidt: Freddy?

[Golden Freddy is seen where he was standing before. Abby steps closer as the blonde-haired ghost kid approaches her.]

Ghost Kid (blonde hair): Not Freddy. They’re all waiting for you. It’s time to go play. (Abby prepares to go to the pizzeria when she sees Aunt Jane lying on the floor) Silly Aunt Jane. She fell asleep.

Abby Schmidt: How do we get there?

[A taxi is seen as a taxi driver listens to music. Abby gets in.]

Taxi Driver: Where to, little lady? (notices a heavier object get in the taxi) What the- (turns rear mirror to see Golden Freddy, who freaks him out a little) Oh my goodness!!!

[The camera turns to Golden Freddy & Abby, who is laughing. Golden Freddy looks at her as she does it.]

Taxi Driver: Not cool. Why do I always get the weirdos? (starts up the taxi as they drive off)

[Chica leads Abby to the storage room with the Ella suit, picks her up and nearly puts her in the suit, almost springlocking her.]

[A figure in the Spring Bonnie suit arrives form the darkness. Mike tases him, but he laughs it off & pushes Mike. The scene cuts to Foxy stepping on one of the balls in the ball pit. Foxy inspects the ball pit for Abby, but his eyes widen as mechanical noises are heard. Abby screams as she is soon taken out of the ball pit by Vanessa.]

Abby Schmidt: Vanessa!

Vanessa Afton: It's okay.

Abby Schmidt: (sees Foxy, lying down on the floor, destroyed) Foxy!

[Foxy's eyes dim.]

Vanessa Afton: I need you to get somewhere safe so I can go help your brother, okay?

[The scene cuts back to Mike & the Yellow Rabbit.]

Yellow Rabbit: You couldn't just leave it alone, could you? (chuckles) Lucky me. First I kill your brother, now I kill you. Symmetry, my friend.

Mike Schmidt: Go to hell. (gets kicked unconscious)

Yellow Rabbit: Wake up, children. I have something for you to play with. This is gonna be so much fun. Little ones tell me you have a sister. She will love it here. You, however, are finished. (wipes knife as he says this) Farewell, Michael Schmidt.

Vanessa Afton: That's enough! Drop the knife. (holds out her gun pointing at the costumed man)

Yellow Rabbit: A little old for temper tantrums, aren't we, Vanessa?

Vanessa Afton: I'm not kidding, Dad.

William Afton: You may have forgotten your loyalties, but I assure you, they have not.

Abby Schmidt: Mike! Please wake up.

William Afton: (removes mask) Now, put that thing away & help me clean up the mess that you created!

Abby Schmidt: Please. Please, Mike. Please. No!

William Afton: (chuckles) We both know you're not gonna use a- (gets shot)

Vanessa Afton: The Yellow Rabbit, he controls them.

William Afton: (knocks off Vanessa's gun off her grasp) You had one job. One! Keep him in the dark & kill him if he got too close.

Vanessa Afton: That's 2 jobs.

[William holds her by the neck & pins her near an arcade machine. He then sees Abby finished with her drawing, running to the drawing wall to pin it.]

William Afton: Let go!

Vanessa Afton: I won't let you hurt her, too. (is stabbed by William) Dad.

[Mike runs to the power switch, as William approaches Abby pinning her drawing.]

William Afton: (starts approaching Abby) Hey, hey! (Abby pins her drawing to the wall as the power goes out in the pizzeria) What have you done?

[Mikes turns the power switch on as the spotlight focuses on Abby's drawing. The animatronics look at it & approach Afton.]

Abby Schmidt: They can see you now. They know what you did.

William Afton: (sees Foxy turn to him) Move!

[The spotlights shine on him as the animatronics surround him. Just then, Mike returns to the main area.]

Abby Schmidt: Mike!

William Afton: Look at you... look at the nasty things that you have become! Look at how small you are! How worthless you are! You are wretched, rotten little beasts! I made you!

[Cupcake launches at Afton, biting off part of the suit, trigerring the springlocks. Afton breathes nervously & grabs the Spring Bonnie mask.]

William Afton: (under his breath) I always come back...

[The animatronics look at Afton as he puts on the mask. The eyes light up as he collapses on the floor. A light fixture comes crashing down.]

Abby: What's happening?

Mike: The springlocks.

[More light fixtures start crashing down, too. Mike & Abby see Vanessa, limp & unconsicious. They leave the collapsing pizzeria with a wounded Vanessa in tow as the animatronics drag Afton away.]

[Afton is seen sitting in a closet. Golden Freddy's kid approaches him. Afton reaches out his hand to him, but he locks the door instead.]

("Five Nights at Freddy's" by The Living Tombstone plays)

[Cut to the taxi's headlights. The lights switch from "ON DUTY" to "OFF DUTY". The taxi driver is sleeping with a hat on his head. A knock is heard.]

Taxi Driver: Uh, uh. No, not today, sorry. (the door opens up) I said, read the si- (screams at the sight of the Balloon Boy figure)

("Five Nights at Freddy's" continues playing. Once it ends, the music transitions to "My Grandfather's Clock" by the Newton brothers.)

Voice: C. O. M. E. F. I. N. D. M. E.

-Dave's Left Ingrown Toenail

[galaxyedging]

Dave York x f!reader

Yes people, I used that gif. It's an indication of how filthy this is. I'm just going to put every under a cut because I feel ashamed. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS.

Warnings: The big one: Consensual non-consensual vibes. Reader acts like she doesn't want Dave to fuck her as a power play. It's their whole dynamic, it's completely consensual but it may be triggering. Turn back if this doesn't sit well with you.

Okay, here's the rest: Smut. P in V sex. Voyeurism/porn. 69. M!receiving oral. Vaginal fingering. Hate fucking. Male masturbation. Female masturbation. Degradation, Spitting. Tit slapping. Dirty talk. Swearing. Squirting. Viagra use. Cheating. Fighting as foreplay. Dear god, just burn this.

Only read if you have read the warnings.

You Say Hate but I Think You Mean The Other Thing

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

"Fuck. Finally!" Dave snarled as you answered your phone.

"Well, good evening to you too handsome." You laced your voice with charm.

"I've been calling for half an hour." A tinge of worry twisted in your gut. Dave sounded out of breath, his voice was strained.

"Dave? Are you okay?" You cradled the phone to your ear as if you could hold him through the phone.

"I've run out of Viagra." He grunted.

Oh all the thing your anticipated him saying...that was not one of them.

"What? You've never needed that." These things happened but it was hard to believe that it happened to Dave, he was the most insatiable lover you had ever had.

"Well, I don't need it with you." You cheeks heated at the at the compliment. Then reality hit you like a cold slap in the face, cooling you off instantly. "You need Viagra to get it up for your wife so you called me?!"

Dave sleeping with Carol didn't bother you. The thought of it was even hot to you. A woman getting off on the dick that you knew you secret owned. The insinuation that you might run a little errand for him is what pissed you off.

"No. I called you to help me get off. I have five minutes before she gets back. I need to get one out of the chamber to stay hard tonight."

Now the straining of his voice made sense. "Are you jerking off?"

"Trying to. I'm jet lagged. I've been up early with the girls. I had to look at the pictures you sent me just to get it up."

"Pictures? Those were view once and protected from screenshots." You knew the security behind them was tight.

"Not from me." His voice dropped lower.

Heat pooled between your thighs. "I need more to get me there. Send me something?"

"For you to jerk off to? Or are you gonna tape into the back of Carol's head while you fuck her to keep it up?" Teasing Dave always paid off big for you. He would ruin you for putting his date night at risk. He had to keep Carol happy for his girl's sake.

"Actually, she wants us to explore some things together. Tonight we're going to watch porn."

"Oooo, exciting!" You snarked. "Why don't you watch some porn now?"

"Nothing is going to get me off in three minutes."

"Nothing? I'm at a boring corporate party. I have the tightest, sluttiest, low cut dress on. So tight that I can't even wear any underwear with it. The guy I have on the hook has been staring at my nipples straining against the fabric all night. I was just going to get him drunk and get the information but he's been so attentive, I think he deserves a little treat. I think I'm going to take him up to my room and ride his face while I suck his cock. You know how good I am at that."

"Yeah. I know." He grunted. You could hear the thwack of his fist against his balls.

"I think I'll grind my cunt onto his pretty face while I swallow around his cock head. I hope he chokes me with his cum."

"You wait until I see you...I..." he was definitely close.

"Sorry Dave. I'm losing you. I'm going through a tunnel." Before you could hang up, you heard a groan, whether it was one frustration or completion, you were sure you'd hear all about it the next time you saw Dave.

Checking the time you did a quick calculation, Dave's date night was probably a good few hours off yet. An idea to completely piss him off formed in your mind.

While Carol was slipping into something more comfortable, she left Dave to choose a video. He picked some glossy X-Art couple porn. It was about a couple celebrating their anniversary. The thumbnail showed them in missionary. It all looked very vanilla, perfect for Carol. It cast it to the TV before stripping down to his underwear ready for her. He didn't notice the video change as he pulled the covers back from the bed. Carol came back dressed in a new expensive, no doubt, night gown. Grinning like a naughty kid, she pressed play on the video. It was only then Dave noticed the video was different. It wasn't the clean, professional video he'd chosen, this was clearly homemade. The camera, a cell phone maybe, was pointed at the bed. Just at the edge of the shot a couple were standing together kissing.

"This looks good." Carol commented like she was watching a Netflix trailer.

Dave's eyes narrowed at the screen as the couple came into view. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the bed next to him. Oh, you really were a bitch some times. There, on his TV, in his bedroom, with his wife next to him, he was watching you kissing some junior executive. He watched as the kid groped your ass.

"She's pretty." Before Dave's brain could process that comment Carol added. "And he's so handsome. He looks like that actor, the one that plays Killmonger."

Dave was furious. How fucking dare you? You thought you could tease him with this shit. He would definitely make you pay for it. For having some twenty something, rubbing himself up against you. His cock straining against his suit pants. Dave knew all too well the effect you could have on a man his own cock swelled as you dropped to your knees to tease the mark's cock with your through his pants before taking it out to suck on. Carol saw how engrossed Dave was and decided to mimic what she saw on the screen. Pulling Dave's half hard cock out she began to suck on it. Between Carol's best efforts and the view he had of you stripping off to sit on the mark's face, he grew fully hard.

Carol choked a little on him before pulling back. "You're really enjoying this aren’t you?"

He offered her a tight smile before guiding her back to his cock. He let her suck away as he watch you ride that prick's face and take him deep into your throat.

God, he was going to fuck you raw when he got a hold of you. Did you really think you could get off with this guy as well as you did with him? Your unabashed moans made him throb.

"Do you want to...?" Carol asked sitting up.

He pulled her to her feet, bringing her around the bed he laid her so he could still see the screen. You had climbed off of that bastards face and were now getting ready to ride him. Dave worked Carol open on his fingers as he watched you put a condom on the guy's pencil dick before climbing on him.

Dave slid into Carol as your took pencil dick into your pussy. Dave was livid. He went into a state of white hot rage. Carol clawed at his back as he fucked her, she wailed underneath him as he slammed his hips against her. The headboard slammed against the wall. He thinks she might have cum already at some point. He doesn't care. All he can think about it what's on the screen. You bouncing on another man's cock. The poor sucker's head pressed into the pillow as you ride him for all your worth. He's moaning and gasping for breath. Dave knows that feeling. He's been ruined by your pussy. If he was balls deep in you right now he'd be battling to keep it together, not battling to come. Speaking of which the jerkoff underneath you blows his load way too early. Thankfully you made him wear a condom so Dave didn't have to endure seeing his cum dripping out of you.

As soon as he pulled the condom off you were off the bed, gathering his clothes and throwing him out. He was baffled. Dave was turned on by your coldness, Carol came again as he cock plunged even deeper inside her. Dave was annoyed that her screams covered you saying something to the camera. He could have sworn he read his name on your lips.

Pulling out the desk chair, you lined it up in front of the propped up cell phone. Acting coy you kept your legs closed as you slipped a finger between them. The other hand coming up to play with your nipples. As you began to need more, your legs fell apart. Dave could see how wet you were, how much you needed his cock. He watched the rise and fall of your breasts as your breath sped up. The flush of your cheeks. It was pushing him towards his climax. It was your moan of the word 'Daddy' that did it for him. His finger drug into the mattress and the bedframe as he lifted off Carol with the sheer tension in his body. They were only connected by his cock as it pulsed his hot, thick cum inside her. He groaned so loud, he missed that you had finished. The video went back to the picture of the one he chose.

Withing fifteen minutes Carol was cleaned up and asleep. She sleepily raved about his performance, made plans for next month's date night before she passed out. He always made sure she came but never like this, he must have wiped her out. There was no way he could sleep, not after that. A cold shower, fucking his fist until he spilled down the drain didn't do a thing to calm him.

A cold chill blew through the house. Last time he'd been over, your uncle made a comment about the front door needing a draft excluder fitting for the winter months. He must have been right. Getting up from your desk you crossed the dark hallway to your bedroom. Reaching blindingly behind the door you felt for your robe, the chill was a little much since you were only wearing shorts and a tank top.

All your training kicked in when someone grabbed your arm and pulled you into the room. They made to spin you, back you into their chest, cage you in. Ducking you avoided their arm only to elbow them in the stomach. The grunt was familiar, tossing your hair out of your way you looked up to see Dave, dressed all in black. A dangerous smirk on his lips.

One that you returned before launching yourself at him. Grabbing a fist full of his hair and one of his broad shoulder you wrapped your legs around his waist in an attempt to flip him. Dave saw the move coming and twisted his hips. He drove you into the wall behind him. The air was punched out of your lungs but what made you gasp was the hardness pressed between your legs. Dave dry humped you slowly for a moment. "You want this?"

It took everything that you had to say no.

He chuckled. "Oh I think you do." He pulled off one of his gloves with his teeth before sliding his hand over your stomach and down into your shorts. "You definitely do."

"That?" You challenged him. "I was just thinking about a guy I fuck a couple of days ago. A young, hot guy."

Dave grabbed your throat, he applied just enough pressure to show he wasn't messing around. He buried his nose against your cheek to get as close as possible as he spoke. "I think this is for me because I own this pussy. No matter who's dick is in there. This is my pussy. I bet you were thinking of me the entire time."

"Was I fuck!" You laughed.

Dave shifted you in his grip, pinned by his hips to the wall. Two fingers slipped passed his lips as you got them nice and wet with his tongue before shoving them inside you.

"Let's see then. Were you thinking about me fucking that pussy?" The slight clench around his fingers answered his question.

"Did you think about me when you came?" Another ripple of your walls.

"Did you need Daddy to fuck you?" This time his fingers slipped deeper with your increased arousal. Slipping his fingers out he licked them clean while staring you down. "Better than a lie detector. Now if you're good I'll give you this dick."

"No, thank you." You arched your back off the wall, using your shoulders to push out of his grasp.

"Fucking bitch." He grabbed you arm before throwing you towards the bed. You didn't quite make it, landing in a heap on the floor. Concern filled his eyes for a second before you swept his legs from under him. As he lay there winded you climbed onto his lap.

"You flew all the way here just for this pussy. You must be desperate for it." You dragged you hips over his letting his nestle between your folds. "Did you have to think of being buried here so you could fuck your wife? Did she like it? Did you make her cum on this big, thick cock?"

Dave didn't like you talking about Carol. He hated that she had to be any part of his life. She certainly shouldn't be talked about in the same sentence as you. That was the point he snapped. He climbed off the floor taking you with him. He threw you fully onyo the bed this time. His hand back around your throat as he pinned you to the bed. The other hand ragging down your shorts. "So what if I did come all this way just for this pussy. I told you, it's mine."

"The. Fuck. It. Is." You clamped your thighs shut. He pushed his hand between them, brushing your clit with his thumb.

"Mine." He released your throat to help prize your thighs open. As soon as he had a good view of your pussy he spat on it. "Mine."

"No." You pushed against his hands. Not as hard as you could, you both knew that, just like you both knew your safeword.

His fingers worked his spit over your clit until it was swollen and throbbing. All the time keeping you in place with his one gloved hand around your throat. Climbed on top of you, he pinned your legs open with his knees. Pulling up his shirt to reveal a delicious flash of his stomach, he undid his pants and pulled out his cock. "You want this? Want this hard, fat cock inside you?" He pumped it slowly as he spoke.

"No." You gritted out.

"Too fucking bad." He pinned your shoulder down with one hand, his knees moved down your legs still keeping them open as he lined himself up. He kept his face stoic, the only crack in his mask was the softness in his eyes as he gave you a beat to say your safe word.

You instantly recognised the softness in his eyes, it was slipping in more and more between your hate fucking. There was no place for it here though. "If you need to get your dick wet so bad why don't you go back to your wife."

Your head hit the headboard as Dave sunk so far deep into you that he drove you up the bed. He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in. Again and again. Your body had no choice but to accommodate him. You stretched around him as he thrust hard and deep. Your whole body strained against him when you came. He carried on using your body until he came. A rush of his cum was soon pushed out of you as he carried on fucking you, still rock hard.

When your eyes widened at him he sneered. "I refilled my little blue pills."

He made a show of fucking you now, rolling his hips and hitting you deep inside. You came twice before he came again. Even more of his cum gushed out of you. He was like a machine. Your couldn't come for him again but that didn't stop you taking pleasure in every thrust of him. It was incredible, boarding on overwhelming.

"See. I told you. This is my pussy. I'll take it whenever I want. You don't even have another orgasm in you. This is just for me. I'm going to keeping fucking you, using you until I'm done. Mine." He came again. This time you could feel him start to soften.

"Not your pussy. Mine. I'll give it to whoever I want. I might even let them fill it with their cum." That had his hips slamming back into yours. "I might even call them Daddy."

"Fucking whore." He picked up the pace.

"What? You want to be the only one I called Daddy? The only one that fills this pussy? Then prove you fucking own it Dave."

With a renewed strength he lifted your hips and threw you ankles over his shoulders he pounded into you while rubbing your clit furiously. "Mine. I fucking own it. You let them cum in you I'll come and washing it out with load after load. I'll make sure you know who your fucking Daddy is. Say it." He slapped your tit.

"No!"

"Fucking say it." Another slap to your tit.

The orgasm building in you felt strange, heavy, there was a weird sort of pressure.

"Say it." Another harder slap. The sting of it felt so good.

Dave sped his fingers up as his thrusts became uncoordinated. "Oh. Yes. Dave."

"Who?" He pinched your nipple twisting it for good measure.

"Oh Daddy!" Your screamed as you came. Not just came, squirted.

"Oh. Fuck, yes. You dirty slut. Look how good I fucked you. Squirting all over me." Dave pulled out to fuck his cock between the two of you. It slipped all of the liquid coating your stomachs. His thrust were shallow and his lips hovered over yours now you were beneath him. It was weirdly intimate as he whimpered through his final release. It coated you stomach and mixed with yours.

The two of you lay there in the result of your sex.

Dave finally pressed his lips to yours for the first time that night. It was bruising and harsh."That was a cruel fucking trick the other night. I hate you."

Looking into his soulful brown eyes you whispered. "I hate you, too."

[2drockstar]

Dave and Nick. Both give the reader a lot of attention and are very handsy. Fluff at the end. Also, lots of dave hairpulling and uhhhmmm that is it

I LOVE NICK MENZA . I LOVE DAVE MUSTAINE .

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Double Trouble (1995)

you felt like the luckiest girl in the world to be going backstage with the hottest members of Megadeth; Dave Mustaine and Nick Menza.

god, how was this even possible? being a groupie for the both… at the same time!?

Dave was dragging you by the wrist, while Nick was walking beside you, arm creeping around your waist.

they were all sweaty and hot from the show, but you didn’t care. something like this never happens to a girl like you.

“right here, man.” Nick eyed a free room.

Dave had a devilish smirk on his face, shoving the three of you guys inside the room.

they didn’t even give you a minute to get undressed, the two of them stripping all the way to their boxers.

“what’re you waiting for? don’t make me rip that stupid outfit off of you, sweetheart.” Dave growled.

you just nodded hesitantly, starting to slowly strip.

“fuck… I didn’t bring you here for a tease show,” Nick huffed, a hand already down his pants.

Dave kept eye fucking you while you were struggling to show off your body.

once you were in your bra and panties, Dave pat his lap, insisting you to come over.

he was right in front of you, but it seemed like that farthest walk ever.

“there we go.. not so hard, was it?” Dave teased, bringing you into his lap.

Nick was behind you, giving a slight groan before he tugged your panties down, making you gasp.

“sorry,” he hummed. “I need you, right fuckin’ now.”

you looked back, looking the brunette up and down before he landed a harsh slap on your bare ass, making you whimper.

a few seconds went by, before he decided to slide two fingers past your wet folds. his calloused fingers made its way to your hole and slid inside without a problem.

“shit… you’re body’s so fuckin’ sexy.” Nick mewled.

you could feel your face heat up from the complement, a few moans escaping your lips in the process.

Dave grabbed your chin, turning you to face him.

“you’re not gonna give me anything, hm?” he pouted, his rough fingers twirled strands of your hair.

“gotta thank me somehow for letting you back here, dontcha think?” the same smirk before plastered across his lips again.

you just nodded, him nodding back at you, hands scurrying all over himself so he could pull down his pants and pull himself out.

his erection was large and veiny. he almost looked desperate at this point.

“cmon,” Dave gestured to his cock. “show me and Nicky what you can do, hm?”

you took a deep breath before you started stroking the guitarist with two hands, looking up at him for confirmation.

“oh shit-“ Dave chuckled. “yeah… there you go, sweetheart.”

Dave would involuntarily buck his hips into your palm, playing with your hair softly.

you brought your head down, licking the tip before taking as much as you could down your throat.

Dave groaned at the feeling, looking down at you to cup one of your boobs and fondle with your nipples to try and get a reaction out of you.

from both of the rockstars, you couldn’t help but get turned on, your whole body tensing up.

“mm-“ you moaned around Dave’s cock.

you pulled off, cock resting against your plush cheek.

“I- I think I’m gonna cum soon..” you whined.

Dave’s eyebrows furrowed, looking back at Nick. he gave him a look and immediately got into different positions. 

the two of them forced you onto your knees, your eyes meeting with their cocks.

you took a deep breath before looking up as your hands started trembling slightly before reaching them up to jerk the both of them off, the air being filled with their groans and deep moans.

you looked up at the both of them, Nick reaching down to caress your face while Dave grabbed a handful of your hair.

“oh… don’t look so innocent baby,” Dave chuckled. “your mouth can fit the both of us, can’t it?”

your eyes widened at the thought, but decided to do what the guitarist said.

you opened your mouth hesitantly before your mouth adjusted to accommodate the both of them, your mouth stretching before your eyes started to tear up a little.

“be a good girl and take it, sweetheart.” Nick hummed, tapping the bulge in your cheek with a sly smirk.

the both of them started to move their hips, their length sliding farther down your tight throat, making you gag around them.

before looking up, you felt warmth fill your mouth before the both pulled out. some of their cum dribbling from your mouth, immediately swallowing before Nick bent down to give you a short french kiss.

you smiled up at the two, squeezing your thighs together tightly.

“what? is it your turn now, pretty?” Dave teased.

you just nodded frantically before he picked you up and tossed you to the small couch in the corner.

the two hovered over you, Dave at the bottom and Nick at the top.

Dave started by spreading your legs open, his mouth attaching to your slick cunt while Nick was busy leaving soft kisses and bite marks over your tits and neck.

with the two of them giving you this much attention, you couldn’t handle it. your legs were begging to close, while Dave forcefully kept them open and Nick kept up his pace.

“oh- guys..!” your breath hitched before Dave pulled away as the two watched you squirt and make a mess of yourself.

your body started to tremble before the two kissed up your body. Dave kissing your thighs and Nick kissing your face.

“did so good for us,” Nick praised.

“took us so well, hm?” Dave hummed.

you just nodded at their words before they helped you get dressed, trying to help you look somewhat like you didn’t just have a threesome with Megadeth’s guitarist and drummer.

[foxilayde]

Imagine spending Christmas with Nathan Bateman at The Compound.

You’ve decorated the house with warm twinkle lights (“honey these are TACKY. I can program the existing house lights to any stupid color”), balsam scented candles (“why’d you get these, we’re in the middle of a FOREST, the place already smells like tree sap”), Christmas music, tinsel, an ornamented tree in the living room (“Jesus, babe what’d I say? We’re SURROUNDED by these things. Did you really have to get Dave to helicopter in a Douglas Fir from Williams Sonoma?…. Yes I know what Williams Sonoma is, it’s on the fucking credit card statement, that’s how.”) You make hot chocolate with peppermint candy canes (“do you know how much sugar is in that cup you’re sipping? No thanks.”)

He’s a bit of a Grinch. He rolls his eyes when it’s your turn to pick the movie for your movie night and you choose “Elf”. He doesn’t laugh, doesn’t touch the caramel popcorn you made either. He folds his arms and grits his teeth when you laugh and quote your favorite lines along with the movie.

When it’s his turn to choose a movie he picks The Shining.

“The fucking Shining, Nathan? The Shining??”

“What? You love The Shining!”

“Of course I love The Shining, but it’s not a Christmas movie!”

“It’s Christmas adjacent.”

“How so?!”

“There’s… snow. And family.”

“You’re absolutely right, who could forget the great heartwarming Christmas theme of chasing your child with an axe through the snow? It’s practically Rockwellian.”

“Jesus. Fine. No Kubrick. How about Die H—“

“I knew you were going to say Die Hard. Fine. Die Hard. Great compromise Nate, really. Nothing says cherishing warmth and peace like C4 down an elevator shaft.”

You fold your arms and sit back against the couch stiffly in a very Nathan-like fashion.

“There is a love b-plot with Holly.”

“I said fine, Nate. Que it up.”

You don’t get up to make the candied pecans you’d been planning on. You seethe and use your frustration to push back your tears. What a jerk.

If it’s any consolation, Nathan isn’t engrossed in the film either. He looks cold, folding his arms for warmth in his thin henley. You’d usually wrap his grumbling ass up in a fluffy blanket, kiss his cheek, and offer him some herbal tea or hot cider (to which he’d unequivocally decline and request a beer instead). But you don’t. You both sit a cushion’s distance apart, unswaddled, unsnacked, and unhappy. Nathan glances over to you about every 10 seconds, his demeanor shifting until halfway through the film he pauses John McClane and asks, “I can’t enjoy the movie when you’re acting like this.”

You tamp down the urge to screech at him like a tea kettle, and instead speak to him in a level sarcastic tone he can relate to.

“I apologize, Nathan. I can only imagine how frustrating it must be to want to enjoy something with the person you love, only to have them be rude and cold. Sincerest fucking apologies.”

You don’t look at him, you wrap your arms tighter around yourself and stare at the still frame of Bruce Willis in the air shaft, feigning engrossment.

“I’ve been a dick. I’m sorry, it’s just it’s fucking Q4 and the dev team launched the latest hardware so goddamn late in the fall it’s been a—“

“I get it. I’m sorry you’re stressed. and I’m sorry for foisting all this hokey shit on you.” You gesture around the room to the twinkle lights, tinsel, tree and snowflake paraphernalia. “I should have known you were stressed about work and it wasn’t fair trying to force you to be all Holly Jolly.”

Nathan scoots closer to you and takes your hand in his, playing with your fingers when he says, “work should never be an excuse for me treating you like crap. I’ve been bonafide fucking scrooge, spitting on tiny Tim and shit.”

“Am I tiny Tim in this scenario?”

“Nah. Jacob Marley, without a dou—“

“Shut up, ass!” You shove Nathan’s shoulder and you both laugh. He brings you in for a tight hug and pulls you down to his chest for a cuddle.

“You know what I did for Christmas last year?”

“What?” You finger the texture of his cream colored Henley.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“I think it’s pretty clearly stated in that NDA that all your intellectual property remains a secret on penalty of death? or something equally dramatic?”

“I was here. Alone. didn’t even realize it was Christmas till I tried zooming Ted about something or other and saw everyone in the office was offline. When I put two and two together I left the lab, drank about a gallon of sake and Sapporo, watched ‘Its a Wonderful Life’, and… cried.”

“You did not.”

“I did.”

“Awww, Nate-y poooo, everytime a bell rings an Angel ge—“

You squeal when Nathan flips you over on the couch, hovering above you, he tickles your neck aggressively with his beard as he playfully peppers the underside of your chin with kisses.

“Penalty of death, remember?”

“Your tender side is safe with me, Ebenezer.”

Nathan looks into your eyes for a few beats. Really stares into them before glancing around the room at all the warm glowing decor.

“The place looks nice.”

You smile up at him, warm happy tears pricking at the corners of your eyes when you smooth your hand down his cheek and into his soft beard.

“Thanks.”

He continues to stare at you. You suspect there’s a secret vulnerable monologue going on in his head when he stares into your eyes. things he’ll probably never say, never admit, never profess. He’s like an iceberg this one. Most would disregard him as “cold” and move on. But you know better. Even if you can’t see it , you know the depth of him beneath it all.

“Merry Christmas” you whisper

“You filthy animal!” you both say at the same time, hugging each other in a fit of mild laughter.

“Oooh Home Alone. Let’s watch that one!”

“Sounds great.”

You grab the fuzzy blanket, prep the candied pecans, and watch the film; cuddled up all cozy with Nathan as snow falls silently outside the glass walls of your glowing little sanctuary.

[dogboylovr]

Hi!!! I've noticed no one has asked you yest sooo... I'm here ! I was wondering if you could like write something David x m!reader, 2010s David actually, and Idc if it's smut or fluff, it's up to you, I'm okay with whatever you can come up with!

thank you so much for the ask!!

a/n: david ellefson (junior) in megadeth's 2010s era x m!reader.

adding in that the house they're doing this in is a shared band house, and mustaine and his wife are home.

contents: fluff, slight playful humiliation, sensual touching (both receiving), risk of getting caught, handjob(?)

word count: approx. 500

nsfw below v

david was sitting on the bed, waiting for me to come in from the bathroom. a few minutes later, i walked in the room and sat on the bed with him, moving closer and snuggling into him.

"what took you so long in the bathroom?" david asked me, looking at me for a moment before wrapping his arms around me.

"i was washing my face then i went piss and washed my hands, obviously." i answered, shifting myself into him more.

david started rubbing my hips, i let out a soft groan, the hip rubbing felt amazing. i softly grabbed his hand and brought it down to my inner thigh. he began rubbing my thigh, as i instructed him to, he would also palm me too, ever so often. i moaned, a bit louder than i was anticipating, he clasped his hand on my mouth.

"shhh... you've gotta stay quiet baby. remember, we're not alone in this house." he reminded me, i nodded in response to him.

i groaned breathily, feeling the blood running through my veins as i felt myself getting hard. david would continue to palm me before sliding his hand up my stomach and into my pants, i whined quietly, looking up at him.

"you like when i touch you, huh baby? you really like that don't you?" david teased me, this made me blush in embarrassment.

"mhm... that's it.." he would whisper to me, beginning to jerk me off.

i groaned loudly, david couldn't be bothered to shush me anymore. so he just let me moan, whine and groan. he continued to jerk me off in my pants while rubbing my thigh with his free hand.

as i was getting closer to my peak, i heard footsteps approaching the door, david and i froze, waiting for them to stop.

"shh. we don't wanna get caught, do we baby?" david whispered to me, i shook my head and stayed as quiet as i could while he continued to jerk me off.

moments later, i felt myself reach my peak, i shook but didn't cum since david stopped as soon as i started shaking.

"please.." i whined to him, and he continued until i came.

david kissed my cheek and slid my came-in pants off.

"you did so good for me, so so good.." he reminded me, continuing to pepper my face and neck with soft kisses.

"thank y-" i cut myself off as i watched the doorknob twist, covering myself up.

dave mustaine walked in, looking at david like he had a question, but he just looked at me, then back at david before leaving.

"sorry about that baby." david apologized to me.

"it's fine, he didn't give us shit." i joked.

the two of us eventually went to sleep together, that was a good night, other than almost being caught.

[allbrodennis]

not dvkt, but currently obsessed w/ Brodennis!! any fic recommendations???

YESSS AHDHHA this ask made me so happy to receive omg

ok so the deal with brodennis is that there are 4 fics of it on AO3 so far, all are written by @laurasauras and all of them are freaking FANTASTIC.

if you haven't read her stuff in general, oh boy you are missing out!!!! she is one of the most talented fic writers in our fandom and YES she's one of my besties but i totally was a fan before i ever got to know her ok!

she is the queen of rarepair fics and she has this superpower where she can write any ship and NOT ONLY sell me on the merits of it, but ALSO make me wish i could read a million more fics of that ship. it's honestly infuriating and i love her to death.

here's a link to all her brodennis stuff bc it fucking slaps and also i sooooo badly need more brodennis content in the world! i cannot shill this ship enough. i need it like air.

if you want more specific info about fics...

No Homo

Summary: "Bro is just a dude who didn't plan on having kids, but is dealing with it pretty okay. Dennis falls into his life and doesn't leave. They're bros for life. Bro has no idea how it could be considered anything more."

THIS GODDAMN FIC makes me completely fucking feral and it owns my soul. i have this obsession with like frat boy dude bro ships where they jerk each other off and justify it as "not gay" somehow and this fic hits every single thing i love about that trope.

Road Trip

This is a DirkJohn-centric fic that features the first appearance of BroDennis in the Laurasauras canon!!! They're very much a background feature here but at the same time they totally steal the show in the BEST way.

The Evil You Know and The Evil You Let Go Of are an excellent and HILARIOUS superhero/villain AU.

from laura's author note: "so this started as a dramatic estranged brothers thing and then idk dennis happened and suddenly it was adorable. you are extremely welcome!"

dennis exhibits a delightful amount of himbo behavior in this series, and honestly so does bro. they are both so stupid and also so smart and talented and in love with each other 😭 also D is there HAHA sorry dave i love you too <3

i hope you enjoy the fics and i extra ESPECIALLY hope that more people catch on to the magic of brodennis and give me even more food to eat 🥰

[chronicangelca]

lay you into all the homes that fear has made of me

Link to this fic on AO3. Words: 7725 Date posted: August 6, 2024

Summary: Or, "Five Times Dave and Jade Argued (And One Time They Didn't)"

She slides her hand down your arm and leaves a trail of goosebumps in its wake, but it’s not for the reason it’s probably supposed to be. You don’t mean to jerk your hand away, it just sort of… happens, without any permission from you.

She looks up at you with those wide green eyes all full of worry, and you try not to grimace (not that it takes very much effort). “Is something wrong?”

She sounds so anxious. There’s something so fragile about the quality of her voice. You’ve noticed that tinge of insecurity every time she thinks she’s done something wrong, which has been a lot more frequent since you started dating. “No,” you say, tone too flat to be believable.

She wraps her arms around herself in a sort of hug, and you feel guilt starting to twist in your stomach. “Are you mad at me?”

You hate that question. You hate it because, almost invariably, it makes you mad—not necessarily at her, not necessarily at anybody. It’s just… frustrating, not being able to communicate your emotions in the way that you want to. You’re just not used to wanting to, don’t have any practice at it. “Jade, I’m not mad.”

“Why do you sound mad?” She says, and you think your eye must twitch behind your shades. You had learned very early on, before you were even formally dating, that Jade is extremely sensitive to tone. You thought that this would work in your favor, because you’re not good at intonating at the best of times, but so far, it’s mostly made everything worse.

You take a deep breath before you answer her. She hears it, or sees it, or notices it somehow, and you can tell that she does because you can hear her breath hitch.

You cannot handle it if she starts crying. You can count the number of times you’ve seen Jade cry on one hand. You think, much like yourself, maybe she never learned how. Maybe she was by herself from such an early age that the instinct to cry to get help from whatever being might have been nearby simply went away. The only times you’ve seen her cry were when you’ve made her cry, which didn’t used to be so easy to do. You feel like shit because it seems so easy now, and this is not something you want to learn to do.

So you grit your teeth, and you wrap an arm around her and pull her against your chest, and your chin settles on top of her head between big fluffy white ears without much trouble. You have to bend over a little awkwardly, but you think that’s okay. You can feel her breaths against your chest through your shirt, and they’re warm and short and you know what that means. “I just… need some space,” you eventually say, which you don’t think sounds right at all. She certainly doesn’t calm down any.

“Touch… isn’t easy for me,” you start, a little more carefully and a little more vulnerable. “And you’re always touching me. It’s just… overwhelming,” you say. It doesn’t feel good to say, but it was probably important. You wish important things felt better.

She pulls away enough to look at you with wide, watery green eyes, and you can see her buck teeth digging into her lower lip. “I’m sorry,” she says, and somehow it feels like something in your chest just shatters at that, sending a million sharp pieces outward into all your vital organs. “It’s just… nice, having someone so close by who I can actually touch. And sometimes… sometimes it feels like if I’m not holding your hand you’re not actually there.”

You feel like an asshole now. You’re not sure if she means to refer to the emotional arms-length you’ve been holding her at since she asked you out a month ago, but even if she doesn’t, you know that you’ve been… checked out, a little bit. And you hate that, because you love Jade, or at least you think you do. You don’t want her to feel alone when you’re right there, or really ever again, if you can help that.

“I’m sorry, too,” you say, which is also not especially easy for you. It’s not hard for you to assume blame—in fact, you probably do that more readily than anybody you know, except for maybe Karkat. It’s just hard for you to show vulnerability, and an apology is one of the most vulnerable things you can name. “I don’t want to be… weird, about touch, y’know? I mean I like it when you touch me, mostly. It’s just that it kind of makes me feel like my heart is gonna explode out of my chest and like I’m about to get all sweaty and awkward like we’re 16 again, and sometimes when you hug me I kind of feel like a prey animal who just got caught in a trap, and I don’t think that you’re a trap, really, I promise, it’s just that I never really got physical affection growing up, and it’s been five years since Bro died but I guess I’m still used to arms around me meaning I’m about to get my ass kicked or something.”

You spit it out all too fast, and then you kind of stare at her with wide eyes of your own while you wait for her to process everything you just said. At least you’ve got the benefit of your shades to hide your own fear. You don’t want her to think you’re afraid of her, even if you are, a little bit. It’s not her fault, it’s just that the idea of a person who can know you so well and who can wrench so many emotions out of you in such a short timespan is a little terrifying.

“Oh, Dave,” she says after a second, her voice so soft you almost don’t hear it. One of her hands slides up to your cheek, and you feel your chest squeeze but you manage not to pull away from it. You even manage to lean into it, a little bit. “I didn’t even think about… Of course… I’ll try to give you some space, okay?” You let out a slow breath and nod.

When she pulls her hand away, you miss it, a little bit.

-

“I love you,” you practically breathe, and you don’t really mean to. It just kind of slips out of you between kisses, and his hands halt where they were starting to slide up your shirt.

“What?” He says, like he didn’t hear you. Suddenly, your heart is pounding.

“Nevermind,” you try to dismiss, because you don’t want this to become a Conversation, not right now, when you were in his lap and his hands were about to go up your shirt.

You see his eyebrows pinch together ever-so-slightly, the only tell on his face of any emotion. He pulls away from you, at least as much as he can when you’re straddling his hips on the couch. His hands drop back down to your hips, and you’re just grateful that he’s still touching you. He’s still getting used to that, you think, even though you’ve been dating for almost six months now. You’re not too worried about it. You’ve waited 18 years to be able to touch him, you can wait a few more months. That’s what you tell yourself anyway.

“No, Jade, you said something,” he says a little more insistently. You could cry from frustration. He’s choosing to argue with you about this right now?

“Dave, it really doesn’t matter,” you try to insist, though you’re not really sure why, because you already know that isn’t going to work.

“If it doesn’t matter then why are you arguing with me?” He says, and you can hear the frustration starting to build up in his tone. His hands drop from your hips, too, down to the couch cushions at either side of him. You could scream.

“I said I love you, dummy,” you huff, even throwing your hands up in the air all dramatically. You cannot believe you are having such a dumb argument right now.

He stares at you for a second, his brows so furrowed with confusion (you hope) that you think even a normal person who didn’t know him as well as you do might be able to see it. This close, you can see his eyes through his shades, and you see the way they dart away from you, like he doesn’t want to look at you. You feel like the entire world around you has stopped. “...Why didn’t you want me to know you said that?” He asks, so quietly even your superior canine hearing almost doesn’t pick it up. You think it would have been totally inaudible if you were anybody else.

“What?” You ask anyway, not because you didn’t hear him but because you don’t understand the question he’s asking you. He was the one who derailed your whole makeout session to ask about what you said, and you just wanted to keep smooching!

“Why didn’t you want me to know you said that?” He asks, a little louder (barely). “Did you regret saying it?”

You stare at him for a second, because… well, you don’t mean to be indelicate, but is he stupid? No, you know he isn’t stupid, so it must be something else. Insecurity? You look at his eyes through his shades, and jackpot, that’s definitely it.

You slide your hands up to his cheeks and force him to look at you, and you do sort of have to force him. When you can see his eyes peering into yours through the shades, you drop your hands. You don’t want to overwhelm him with too many things at once. “Why would I regret saying it, Dave?”

“Because you don’t,” he says, so fast you almost can’t process it. For a second, you don’t really understand what he means. Because you don’t what? Regret it? Well, that’s true, but it doesn’t really answer the question that you asked him. After a second, though, it dawns on you. Oh. Maybe you’re the one who’s stupid.

“Dave,” you say, voice soft, a little placating. “I was just… scared,” you eventually admit, and you see him grimace at that. Okay, that’s not want you meant.

You take a deep breath before you start again, “Dave, I love you so much. I have since we were 12 years old and I will until the sun in this universe we made explodes and maybe takes us with it. I was scared because… Well, it’s been six months and you haven’t said it yet. I thought maybe… I thought maybe you just didn’t want to.” You hope he can read between the lines and find what you’re actually trying to say. He’s usually so good at that.

He’s quiet for a long time. So long that you almost think he’s not going to reply to you at all, and your stomach starts to flutter with nerves. What if you’re right? What if he just hasn’t known how to tell you that he doesn’t actually like you at all? What if he never liked you, and he just felt bad for you, and that was why he said yes when you asked him out? What if he’s about to break up—”I love you too,” he says, so, so quietly that you almost don’t hear it over your surging panic. You do, though, and it makes your chest squeeze with something resembling affection more than panic.

You sink down until your forehead is pressed against his and let out a long, slow breath. Your hands come back up to his cheeks, and his hands come back up to your sides, his fingers just barely brushing up against your skin under your shirt.

“Do you wanna keep going?” You ask, trying not to sound too eager. You’ve just had a Serious, Grown Up Conversation after all, and you think it’s totally fair if he doesn’t want to make out after that, even if right after saying “I love you” for the first time seems like the perfect time to make out to you. Apparently, he agrees, because instead of answering you verbally he tilts his head up to catch your mouth in another kiss.

-

You sit at your kitchen table tapping your foot. You don’t mean to look like a disgruntled parent waiting for their teen to sneak back into the house in the middle of the night drunk off their ass so they can lecture the kid and give them a thorough grounding. You just have so much energy in your body at any given time, let alone when you’re upset, and it needs to go somewhere. You would pace, but then you wouldn’t be able to see the door when Jade gets back from work. So maybe you mean to look like a disgruntled parent a little bit.

She’s an hour late to come home from work—and normally that’s not really a big deal to you. You’re confident that she’s not cheating on you, and usually the days she stays late are the days that she comes home with especially interesting stories from the lab. You can’t really wrap your head around half of them, but you like hearing them anyway.

It’s just that it’s not like she really needs the job considering you’re both essentially gods (well, really, there’s no essentially about it) and even though the apartment you live in is not the apartment you started the game with, it’s still free to the both of you (on account of the whole gods thing). And today is special.

She can be a 19-year-old supergenius physicist showing all the 30-year-olds in the lab how dumb they are any day of the year, but this is the only day of the year that is just about the two of you—at least, you hoped it would be. Maybe you were being stupid for that. It’s not like you’re usually big on this sentimental shit.

You didn’t expect to be the type of person who cared about anniversaries. Sure, time was ingrained in your being, but romance wasn’t.

But you’d woken up this morning to your bed empty and cold, with a note on the end table saying that she had gone to work and she’d get dinner on her way home, and you’d thought that maybe that meant you two were going to do something special. Maybe you’re the idiot for getting excited, but it’s a little too late now to just put the excitement back in its box or whatever. That fucker is loose in the apartment demanding attention and the only person in the world that you want it from is studying radioactive particles or something.

You hear her keys turning in the lock before the door opens, and when she comes in she’s got a big, brown paper bag in one arm and a wide smile. “I’m home!” She announces, and you can’t help but note that it’s not in the little sing-song voice she does whenever she’s excited. Somehow, that just makes you feel worse.

“Hey,” you say, because you’re not so mad at her that you can’t greet her.

She’s visibly surprised to see you at the table, foot tapping and arms crossed over your chest. Her smile gets a little wider, which tugs at your chest a little, but not enough to make you smile back. She sets the food down on the table and leans over to kiss you. When you don’t kiss her back, she pulls away with furrowed brows and laughs a little. “Am I in trouble?”

You have to think about this for a moment. Is she in trouble? Despite your earlier analogy, you don’t think you’re some sort of authority figure who can put her in trouble. “You’re not in trouble,” you eventually answer, and you don’t bother to hide your frustration from your tone. It’s crazy how after only a year with Jade, you have to try harder to keep the tone out of your voice than to put it into it.

She hums and reaches into the bag to start pulling the food out of it. There’s clear containers of Indian food, some sort of curry and rice and garlic naan. You swallow the saliva starting to build up in your mouth. “You didn’t call,” you eventually say, because it’s becoming clear that somehow your girlfriend has not realized that you’re actually upset with her.

“I never call,” she says with another little laugh, brushing past you and into the kitchen proper to grab plates. You look over your shoulder and watch her lean up on her tiptoes to get two matching plates off the bottom shelf of the kitchen cabinet. When she comes back and cracks open one of the containers, it smells heavenly. You cross your arms a little tighter.

“I just thought that today of all days, you might call if you were going to be home late,” you say. You’re not as good at passive aggression as Rose, but you think you’ve picked up a few tricks.

Jade pauses and looks at you with furrowed eyebrows and slightly squinted eyes. “Um, is there something special about today of all days? ” She says back, with a little bit of a teasing tone, and you draw in a sharp breath without meaning to.

That makes her face settle into something a little more serious, and she squints at you again, like you might have the reason that today is special tattooed on your body somewhere. She holds up a hand to start counting off events on her fingers: “Well, I know it’s not your birthday because the day before yesterday wasn’t my birthday. It’s not Christmas for kind of the same reason. It’s not Valentine’s Day, that was months ago and we didn’t even do anything for it so I don’t think you’d be upset if I forgot anyway. It’s not—” She pauses, her face and whole body freezing. “It’s our anniversary,” she says, and she sounds almost horrified.

“You actually forgot,” you say, and your voice is quiet. It always goes quiet when you’re too emotional, like some sort of defense mechanism so people don’t realize you’re so vulnerable.

“Dave, baby,” she starts, and you don’t want to hear her try to explain this to you, so you stand up without any communication between your brain and your legs. She reaches out a hand toward you, and you take a step back away from her.

You want to say something mean. I just thought a year would have meant something to you flashes through your mind, but you tamp it down. You know that the temptation to lash out is trauma-related, and if you hurt Jade’s feelings now, you’re going to feel awful about it later. Instead, with your jaw tight, you murmur, “You left a note this morning and I thought…” You don’t know what you thought, so you trail off.

You can see realization and guilt flash across her face at the same time, and she pulls her hand back to herself, holding herself in that way she does when she’s upset about something. “I just didn’t want to wake you up when I left for work… You looked so peaceful.”

“You always wake me up when you leave for work,” you say, partially accusatory, but mostly just because it’s true.

“I just thought… I don’t know. We were up late last night, and you have so much trouble sleeping normally, I didn’t want you to be exhausted or anything.” For just a second, a part of you regrets moving in together. You’d had your own places, and it wasn’t like a lease was up that necessitated one of you moving. You’d just sort of… decided to two months ago, even though you hadn’t even been dating for a full year yet, and you were shocked by how much you really wanted her to be a part of your life. You still want that. You know that, so you force yourself to take a deep breath. You don’t regret moving in together, not really. You know that. It’s just that this is the first time since you’ve moved in together that she’s really upset you—maybe it’s the first time she’s really upset you at all, you’re not sure. Normally these kinds of arguments just roll off of you and you get over them as quickly as you’d gotten mad.

“I just… How did you forget, Jade? Was it not important to you?”

“Of course it was important to me,” she insists after a second, and she looks and sounds horrified that you could even suggest that she wouldn’t care. She reaches out for you again, and you let her touch you this time, one of her hands sliding to press flat against your chest. “Dave, you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”

You can’t help softening a little bit, even as you want to stay mad. She didn’t answer your question. You just stare at her, and she shrinks a little under your gaze.

“I mean, I’ve always been a little absentminded,” she starts, and your jaw tightens, but at least her tone doesn’t sound like she’s trying to make an excuse, not really. “And I guess it just… feels like it’s been longer than that? I mean you’ve always been the most important person in the world to me, Dave.”

You’re sure there’s a lot of qualifiers to that. You doubt, when you were kids, that you were more important to her than John and Rose were. More present, maybe. You were always in her DMs in the middle of the night (for you) when you couldn’t sleep for some reason or another, and she always seemed thrilled to talk to you. It makes your chest squeeze anyway.

“I love you,” you eventually say, because you can’t think of any other arguments, and you don’t really want to argue with her anymore, anyway.

“I love you so much,” she says back, and she stands up on her tiptoes to press a kiss against your jaw that you tilt your head into at the last second to turn into a kiss on the lips. When she breaks away, it is just enough to murmur, “Can we eat now?”

-

You’re laying in bed all sprawled out, and when you look over at him, you’re wearing a little grin. “Funny seeing you here,” you tease, and he raises an eyebrow over at you but doesn’t do anything else with his face. It’s always a coin flip, after sex, whether he’s going to be extra vulnerable or extra stoic. You wish you understood why, but even after two years together, you don’t fully understand Dave. You’re happy to spend the rest of your life figuring him out.

You roll onto your side, tucking your head against his shoulder and draping an arm over his chest. He doesn’t push you away at all anymore, just wraps an arm up around your back and absentmindedly brushes his fingers against the base of your spine just over your butt. It’s a little ticklish, but you’ll allow it for now. His shades are still off (and it had taken you so long to get him to take them off, even during sex), and his eyes look a thousand miles away. You reach up to brush a stray strand of hair back up off his forehead, and you can’t help but snicker a little at how sweaty he is. “What are you thinking about?” You mumble, mostly just to fill the space.

He tenses under you, and immediately you feel a nauseous sort of anxiety clawing at your throat. Did you do something wrong? You push yourself up onto an elbow to look down at him, and he still looks so far away. “Dave?”

His eyes snap over to you, wide and a little panicked, and you slide a hand down to cup his cheek. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You ask.

He swallows hard. “Nothing,” he says, and that anxiety must double at least, with just the slightest bit of frustration welling up with it. You thought you were past this whole hiding his feelings thing.

“C’mon, will you just talk to me?” You say, and you don’t mean to sound as frustrated as it comes out. You’re really not that frustrated!

He pulls away, sitting up on the edge of the bed and leaving you staring wide-eyed at his bare back. You’ve seen him naked enough times that your eyes don’t catch on his scars anymore, most of the time, but there’s something about this time that makes them feel all the more oppressive. Thin, smooth, almost shiny white lines criss-cross all over the place. There’s one that wraps around from the bottom of his ribs around to his hip bone, and you reach out to touch it—well, really, to touch him, but that’s where your fingertips naturally gravitate. The second they brush against his skin, he jerks away, and your heart drops down to the pit of your stomach. He hasn’t done that in months.

You sit up, and you pull the blanket up to cover your chest. You haven’t hidden it from him in months, either, but it’s hard not to feel a little insecure about it when he’s all upset like that and you don’t know why. You try to swallow down your nerves, but you’re sure they’re at least a little evident in your voice when you murmur, “Did I do something wrong…?”

Suddenly he slides a hand up into his hair and tugs at it, and it’s a habit you normally have when you’re upset, but you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him do it before. You might be flattered that you’re rubbing off on him under any other circumstances. “Why do you always think you did something wrong every time I’m upset?” He snaps.

You stare at him for a second, breath trapped in your chest. You don’t know what to say. You wish you knew why he was upset—then maybe you could try to help with whatever it is.

“I-I’m sorry,” you eventually stutter, and he pushes himself off the bed to stand up.

“ Why are you sorry?” He says, and your brows furrow. He’s still not looking at you. “I don’t want you to be sorry, Jade, you didn’t do anything. I’m just upset. Can I be upset without you just assuming that it has anything to do with you? It’s like a guy commits to a relationship for two years and somehow that gets him in more trouble, Jesus.”

You can only stare at him for a moment, because you’re not really sure how to respond to that. Your first instinct is to apologize again, but you think he’s clearly demonstrated by now that that would only make him more upset. You want to reassure him that he’s not in trouble for anything, but you’re a little too caught up trying to figure out why he even thinks that in the first place to say anything about it.

He starts pacing, one hand still buried in his hair. “And I mean I guess I get it—I’ve been putting up with me for twenty years and I still can’t stand that guy, so maybe two years isn’t that much in the grand scheme of things. Maybe I should just stop subjecting you to me in the first place, let you get with a dude who doesn’t… fucking, do this. A nice dude. Maybe one a little less freakishly tall, so you can reach him on your tiptoes.”

Your heart is hammering in your chest now, and you feel a familiar stinging, pinching sort of sensation behind your eyes. “Are you… breaking up with me?” You say, and you can barely say it above a whisper.

He finally turns to look at you, and his eyes are so wide, like he had forgotten you were in the room with him. He looks a little bit like a cornered animal, and you hate that you’ve done something to make him feel this way.

“Jade,” he eventually says, voice so soft that you can barely hear it, and your eyes are still so wide with terror and anxiety and guilt. When you squeeze them shut for a moment in something like a blink and you feel tears start to slip down your cheeks, he climbs back into the bed next to you and slides a hand up to cup your face, his thumb brushing your tears away.

“I’m-m sorry,” you say, stuttering again as you try to hold back sobs and hiccups, because you do not want to start crying right now. You hate crying. You hate everything about it. It makes you feel all gross and small, and you can always see on Dave’s face how awful he feels when you cry in front of him. You can see it now, better than ever with his shades out of the way. He looks so guilty.

He leans in to press a kiss against your forehead, his hand still on your face, and you can’t help letting out a little bit of a sob. Then he pulls you in against his chest, and his arms are so tight around you, and you do your best to wrap your arms back around him but they’re a little tangled up in the blanket. “Jade,” he murmurs again, against the top of your head, and you suck in a sharp, shaky breath to try to calm down and listen to him. “Baby, I’m not breaking up with you. I couldn’t… I’m never gonna do that, okay?” He actually pauses for a second, like he really expects you to answer him, so you nod meekly into his chest. You feel his nose press against your hair, his lips buried somewhere against your scalp as he keeps mumbling to you, “Fuck, I didn’t mean to upset you. I wasn’t even really talking to you, I was just rambling to myself like I always do, and here you are, trying to be all brave for me and crying your eyes out. I don’t want that, Jade, I’m sorry,” he says, and at this point your shake your head and pry your face out of his chest to look up at him again.

“It’s not your fault,” you mumble. You can see on his face that he doesn’t believe you, so you lean up to press a kiss against his jaw and bring your own hands up to cup both of his cheeks. “Just talk to me. What’s wrong?”

And he does. He tugs you back into his chest and props his chin up on your head and he mumbles to you all of his racing thoughts. It must be hours before he finally starts to sink back into the bed, until he’s laying next to you and your head is propped on his shoulder again and you can barely keep your eyes open. You’ve been together for two years and you’re not sure he’s ever been so vulnerable with you. You just listen, until eventually you both fall asleep.

-

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You’ve been careful. Extra careful. You use condoms every single time. She’s on birth control. You were never the “If it happens, it happens” couple. You were never supposed to be in charge of a child.

Your wife—your wife, fuck, that’s still insane to you—looks at you with more fear than you’ve ever seen, and it makes your chest squeeze. You don’t want her to be afraid.

“Okay.” You say, even though it’s everything but. “What do you want to do?” You ask, because you’re supposed to ask, but it comes out sort of mechanically. Obviously, it’s whatever Jade wants to do. You don’t get any say over what she does with her body, you just have to silently pray that her feelings on it align with yours.

She’s quiet for a long time. The silence makes you want to crawl out of your skin. It means that whatever she’s going to say, she thinks that you don’t want to hear it, and she’s probably right. You weren’t ever supposed to be having this conversation. You don’t even understand how this happened to you.

“I can’t get rid of something that’s part me and part you, Dave,” she says, and it knocks all of the wind out of you. Yeah, that’s kind of the answer you expected. Not the one that you wanted, but the one that you expected. Jade has never expressed a desire to have kids or a desire not to have kids, but you know that she’ll be a good mom.

What she says next sends something freezing all the way down to your bones: “You don’t have to stay, if you want.”

It makes your stomach turn, the idea of leaving her. You haven’t even been married for three full months yet, so why the fuck would you leave? And yet here is your wife, still practically brand new, telling you that you can leave her. Does she really think you want that?

“Do you really think I’d leave you just because I knocked you up?” You say, and you mean for it to come out comforting, you swear that you do, but what comes out is venomous.

“I don’t know, Dave!” She yells, pushing her hands up into her hair. You want to reach out and pull her into your chest, but your arms stay glued against your sides. “We never… talked about this, and you don’t exactly seem thrilled, and I don’t wanna be the wife who baby traps you or…”

“I don’t think you can baby trap someone you’re already married to,” you say, entirely unhelpfully. She glares at you, and you don’t think you can blame her. You take a deep breath. You’re trying to be calm, but you are so fucking petrified. “I don’t know, Jade. I mean I never expected to be a—” You choke. “To have a kid. But…”

“But what?” She says, her voice so quiet. She’s so scared. It’s killing you.

You want to tell her that you’ll figure it out. You want to tell her that if there was anyone in the world that you were going to do this with, you’d want it to be her. You want to tell her that you love her more than anything and it’s going to take more than a surprise pregnancy to scare you away. Your tongue is glued to the roof of your mouth, though, and there’s something tight and awful in your throat, and you can’t say any of that shit.

She seems to autofill the worst for you when you don’t answer. “I don’t want to get divorced,” she whispers, looking anywhere but your face.

And Jesus Christ if that doesn’t send a dagger straight through your chest, something so physically painful it actually makes you stumble back a step. She seems to take that the wrong way, too, because she turns fully away from you and wraps her arms tight around herself.

“Jade…” You say, reaching out for her. When you try to put your hand on her shoulder, she rolls it to get you off of her, and fuck, she’s never done that before. Avoiding touch, that was always your thing. Jade was so touch-starved growing up that you think she’d be happy if you had your hands on her every second for the rest of your lives—which is forever, in case anyone’s counting.  Or, at least, you thought that.

You take a deep breath. Again. Maybe eventually you’ll have taken enough that you actually feel calm, or at least that your chest doesn’t feel like it’s got a fucking vice grip on your heart and lungs. You’re somewhat doubtful, though. This is like your personal hell. Here’s your wife in front of you, and she won’t look at you and she won’t let her touch you, and she’s pregnant with your fucking baby.

For once in your life, you just can’t find any words. Normally you’re such a blabbermouth. You feel like you could write a sick rap about this if you weren’t so horrified. Of course, in your ideal world, that rap would include the phrase fetus deletus, and it’s been made quite clear to you that that’s not happening.

Words aren’t coming to you, but you need to do something to help Jade, because you are watching her break apart at the seams in front of you and you’re pretty sure you made some sort of promise never to let that happen just a few months ago. After a second of hesitation, you reach out and wrap your arms around her from behind, squeezing her tight. She tries, for just a second, to break away from you, but the second she meets any resistance, she sinks back against you with a shaky breath.

You press your face against the top of her head and let your eyes flutter shut. Standing with her like this, it almost feels like time and space aren’t real, or at least they don’t exist around you. Fat chance of that ever happening, though.

“I’m scared,” she whispers eventually, and her voice is so small. It reminds you of that first fight you’d ever had—the first one as a couple, anyway—when she’d asked if you were mad at her, hugging herself like no one else in the world would.

You let out a breath, and you think it might vaguely resemble a laugh, if you squint. “Fuck, Jade, I’m so scared,” you admit, and you think it’s maybe the first time you’ve ever told her you were scared of anything. You hear her sniffling, and you squeeze your eyes just a little tighter shut because you cannot take seeing her cry right now.

“I don’t want to do this by myself,” she says, her voice somehow even smaller, and you can’t help squeezing her a little bit tighter.

“That’s never gonna happen,” you say, as firmly as you can manage. You hear her suck in a sharp gasp, and you bury your face a little further into her hair for good measure. “I don’t… want to hurt it,” you eventually murmur.

You feel her moving against you long before you’re brave enough to crack your eyes open. She waits patiently for you to be looking at her before she starts talking. “Dave, you would never do that,” she says, and she sounds so sure of it. You wish you were even half as sure of that as she seems to be.

“How do you know?” You ask, swallowing hard.

“I just do,” she says, and you want to argue with her, to point out that that doesn’t make any sense, but you don’t think she’ll accept it, so you just stay quiet. You both just stand in the living room like that for a while, arms tight around each other. You don’t ever want to let her go, you think, but you know that you’ll have to eventually. You just squeeze her a little tighter, face finding a place in her hair again.

-

You lay on one side of Dave’s chest, your eyes wide as you stare at the tiny lump of a human on his chest.

She looks just like him. You don’t know how that happened. Everyone, yourself included, had insisted that she would look like you, and instead she came out like a carbon copy of Dave with your coloring.

Her eyes are closed right now, long eyelashes brushing against her chubby cheek. Their breathing is synced up. You watch her bob in time with the rise and fall of Dave’s chest in time with her own tiny little nostrils flaring out every time she exhales.

You pick up a hand and bring it to brush against her cheek. Her skin is so soft. “Careful,” Dave mumbles, and you can’t help startling a little bit. You thought that he was asleep. You look up at him, and his eyes are still closed. “You don’t wanna wake her up.”

He’s not wrong, you guess. It’s hard enough as it stands to get your daughter to go to sleep, let alone to sleep through the night without waking up and screaming her little throat raw every two hours. You don’t know when babies start sleeping through the night, but so far, three months does not appear to be the answer.

“I thought you were asleep,” you whisper up to him, moving you hand to brush your fingers against his cheek instead. He slides a hand down to stroke your back.

“I was,” he says, in that way where you can’t quite tell if he’s being totally honest. He cracks an eye open to look down at you and smiles, that barely-there upturn of the lips that he seems to save just for you.

You lean up, carefully so as not to disturb the baby, and press a slow kiss against his mouth. He kisses you back, and the hand on your back settles, pressing his palm flat against the base of your spine. When you pull away, you let your forehead sink down against his, and he opens both eyes now just to look up into yours. “You want me to go put the baby in her crib?” He mumbles, and you snort—not only because of the implication behind his words, but also simply at the idea that he would willingly put her down.

For the first month after your daughter was born, it was like Dave was afraid to touch her. He seemed to believe that he was going to break her just being too close to her, like she was the most fragile thing in the universe, or like he was Arquius or something. Of course, you knew going into all of it that his biggest fear was hurting her, so you tried to be patient about it.

Once the colic started to get to you and you had this sinking feeling that there was nothing you could do to help your wailing infant and you were single-handedly responsible for her misery, he started trying a little harder to help you. You didn’t want him to feel too guilty over the fact that he was so hesitant to help in the first place, so you didn’t say anything. But the first time he held your daughter— really held her, like she was his baby and not a bomb waiting to go off—you saw something shift in him, and he hadn’t wanted to let her go for anything. If before that the biggest danger to their baby in Dave’s mind was Dave, after that, the biggest danger was everything else in the world. Admittedly, it was sort of sweet, the way he seemed to think that he was personally responsible for keeping the whole rest of the world at bay until she was old enough to defend herself, or at least hold her own head up.

Sometimes, the post-partum depression still whispers in the back of your mind that your daughter doesn’t even like you, that you’re just the food factory and Dad is where the real show is. You try not to listen to it, but you’ve already had more than one night crying in Dave’s arms about it. As it turns out, the mess of hormones didn’t end with childbirth.

“Has she ever been this calm before?” You mumble, looking down at your daughter again.

He looks down, too, and he smiles. It’s not the same as the smile he gets for you. It’s different in some way you can’t describe, something just for him and her, you guess. “Yep. She was the chillest baby in the world in utero,” he says, and you snort. You remember it differently, but you guess he wasn’t the one with a fetus tap dancing on his bladder and playing the xylophone on his ribcage.

“She’s so small, ” you murmur, not for the first time and, you’re sure, not for the last. She’d barely been six pounds when she was born, which you were grateful for because you’re not exactly the biggest yourself, but even now, three months later, she’s still barely cresting the fifth percentile for height and weight. He hums, and despite his warning to you only a minute ago, he slides a hand up against her back. His hand must be at least half as long as her, and she lets out a long sigh against his chest. His other arm wraps a little more firmly around you, and he pulls you in a little tighter against his side.

“Well, she had to get something from you,” he teases, and you roll your eyes. Maybe if she was awake you’d take the bait for the argument, but as it stands, you don’t want to risk waking her up. You should probably be trying to get some sleep yourself.

“If I pass out, will you wake me up when it’s time to feed her?” You ask. Usually, she does a pretty good job of waking you up herself when it’s time to feed her, but that doesn’t stop you from worrying about it.

He leans down to press a kiss against the top of your head and gives you another squeeze. “Promise,” he says, and you think you believe him, so you roll away onto your other side.

As your eyes flutter shut, you can’t help but think about how far you’ve both come. He didn’t used to let you touch him almost at all, and now he hardly lets you or your daughter out of his sight. You’re smarter than to think it’s some sort of paternal instinct—or at least, it’s not only that. It’s healing, too. You’ve both healed and grown up. Every bump along the road was worth it so you could get here.

[laceandsilkhandkerchiefs]

(Therapy) Dog Days (Snzfic, N/ewsies)

To that lovely anon who I promised a N/ewsies snzfic to... it's here at last!

Some general notes (especially for those who aren't familiar with the source material)- This is a Modern AU (the original story takes place in 1899), wherein all the characters are college students. Davey and Crutchie (the two characters featured in this little story) are dating in this universe, and they work together at their university's library. Crutchie (as his name suggests) uses a crutch, although for the purposes of this AU I've updated it to be two forearm crutches. His real name being Charlie is my own headcanon.

I believe that's all... please enjoy!

Davey and Crutchie had been sitting next to each other at the library's front desk for about half an hour, enjoying a silent and uneventful afternoon as students pored over books and typed out essays around them, when Crutchie suddenly jerked forward in his seat.

To the untrained eye it was a rather violent movement, especially startling because it came out of nowhere. Davey, however, could tell from both his years of practice observing his boyfriend and the way Crutchie had tucked his nose into his shoulder that it had been a stifled sneeze. And it was no wonder, really, considering the fact that it was "Therapy Dog Day" at the library, with four-legged friends roaming around saying hello to everyone, and Crutchie was horribly allergic to dogs.

"You okay?" Davey whispered as the other man straightened up with a soft sniffle, running his finger lightly under his nose. Crutchie nodded.

"Yeah, thanks."

"Of course." Davey cast his gaze back at his laptop but remained attuned to Crutchie's now much more frequent sniffs and throat-clearings. After another minute or two his breath caught, and he ducked into his elbow with two barely stifled squeaks of sneezes, letting out a soft huff and reaching for a tissue when he was done.

"Gesundheit. Here." Davey passed him the tissue box, which Crutchie took with a grateful smile. As he leaned away to blow his nose, ever mindful of keeping his noise levels down, Davey reached out and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Do you need allergy meds?"

"Nah, I took some befohhhre I... hih-ngxt! Snf! Before I got here."

Davey frowned as Crutchie dabbed not only at his nose but his eyes, which had begun to water with the effort of holding back his sneezes. "It doesn't look like they're doing much..."

"T-there's juhhhst a-a lotta dog... hair... ohgeez- ngxt-shiew! Hih-ishiew! Ish-ish!"

As Crutchie crumpled forward into a fit of squeaky, ticklish sneezes Davey rubbed his back gently, feeling Crutchie's shoulders shake even as his sneezes remained relatively quiet. "Bless you, again," he murmured.

"Snf... Thanks, sorry," Crutchie replied, plucking another tissue from the box and rubbing more aggressively at his nose with it. "Think I'm g-gonna... snfsnf!... ugh. Gonna go sit in the back. I don't wanna disturb nobody."

"Are you sure?" Davey asked as Crutchie reached for his forearm crutches and made to stand up. "You can go home if you need to. I'll cover for you."

Crutchie smiled fondly at Davey, though it was much more subdued than his usual trademark crooked grin, and his eyes held a slight fuzziness which made him appear a bit distracted. "'S just sneezin', Dave. I'll be fine, promise."

--

"Hey, uh, Davey?"

Davey looked up from his laptop to see Henry, one of the library's research assistants, standing in front of the front desk with a worried look on his face. "Hey, Henry. What is it?"

"It's Crutchie... he's in the back room, and he says he's fine, but... I dunno." Henry shrugged. "You might wanna check on him."

Davey was already on his feet. "I will. Thanks."

Henry nodded, and Davey placed a small sign that said Out to Lunch on the desk (never mind that it was almost 3 PM) before hurrying off to find his boyfriend.

Crutchie hadn't gone far, as it turned out- he was sitting hunched over in an armchair in the employee break room with his nose buried in a tissue. He glanced up when Davey entered the room, and it was immediately clear that his allergic reaction had intensified. His nose was now flushed pink, his eyes were red and watery, and his whole face had taken on a distinctly puffy quality.

"H-hey..." Crutchie tried to speak, but was interrupted by a small fit of sneezes, which he muffled into the tissue with a soft groan.

"Charlie..." Davey sighed as he knelt down next to the chair. "Why didn't you tell me when it got this bad?"

"It ain't that b-bad..." Crutchie trailed off, his brow furrowed as he seemingly waited to see if he was going to sneeze again. When more weren't immediately forthcoming, he rubbed at his nose and turned back to Davey. "Ngh... how long's it been?"

"About an hour. There's an hour left in our shifts, but I'll ask Henry to cover it."

"What? Why? Honestly, D-D-Dave... ish! Ish-ish! Huhhh... hih-shiew! Hahhh..."

"Charlie. Come on, I can see your nose twitching from here. Why keep torturing yourself? Let's go home."

Crutchie sighed, throwing a watery glare at Davey, the effect of which was immediately ruined by his face crumpling with one more sneeze. Davey raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, okay! You win, we'll go home... snf! 'S long as we can stop at Starbucks on the way back. I need caffeine."

"You need Benadryl." Davey shook his head, leaning over and pressing a kiss to Crutchie's cheek. "But Starbucks it is."

[rreskk]

Could you maybe do a trans man X Steve Haines smut fic where they argue with each other when the guys are around but when everyones not looking they disappear and do stuff and when they come back the guys keep poking fun at them because they thought they hated each other?

---A/N: I'm so sorry this took ages! I've managed to get it done. Thank you for the ask! And thanks for the likes. I appreciate your support :)

Summary: Your secret was out after Steve made it clear that you two... Were something more than enemies.

Word count: 828

Pairings: trans!male reader/ Steve Haines

TW: Smut

Michael pondered into the room with obvious curiosity. He walked alongside the other two, Franklin and Trevor. Being told to meet with urgency, Dave greeted them with unsuspected tiredness.

“Where are they?” Michael asked when noticing two empty seats.

His loyal FIB agent shrugged, “Somewhere. There was some bickers here and there… Then they just wondered off.”

“We ain’t too late, aren’t we?” Trevor chimed in.

“No, I suppose not. Stick around and they’ll return shortly.” Responded Dave.

“Man, they are probably at each other’s throats again.”

“Not quite, Franklin. I believe they are hiding something more personal.”

Franklin glanced at Dave, “What do you mean?”

The trio exchanged looks as the tired man between them placed down his coffee. He sighed.

“It’s not proved but they may be together… Just more… Friendly.”

Trevor busted out laughing at the thought. He held his stomach and antagonised Steve without his presence around. Michael shook his head with a grin and sat down, waiting for you both to show up.

-

“God, I feel so… AH!” Steve panted as you held him still. The guy has been under your skin all day… The second Dave went to buy some coffee, Steve pulled you aside and… Well, the situation proclaimed itself considering you were pushing your cock into his anus.

You were his first time. Remembering the moment he experienced the sensation, it’s a memory to use when he becomes too unbearably cocky. Steve hates the restrictions due to this… But it was a part of the fun. Coming to terms with his sexuality, you helped him through the crisis and he admitted his sexual awakening. Steve is not openly saying he’s gay, it’s a secret between you both.

“Feels good, huh?” You smiled and thrusted further into him. The man gripped onto the wall. His FIB uniform was loosely wrapped around his physique. His trousers dangled around his ankles and you were careful not to crease the shirt since after this, you’ll have to pretend nothing happened.

Steve nodded, his ego enlightening at the attention, “Fuck, you have no right to be so hot, dude.” There was lack of sincerity… It was Haines after all, he is filled with petty compliments, typical brat. And he loved being one.

“Oh my God…” He whispered in front of you.

Outstretching your hands, you held his waist and pushed him into you, deepening the intimacy and friction. Where he continues to whine, his voice grows more hallow as he approaches the need to climax.

“Keep i-it up… I need to… Fuck.”

You fastened the pace and bit your lip. Fuelled with concentration, you slammed yourself against his ass and abused the G spot. Steve gagged out a moan. He fell against the wall and panted for forbidden air. His cock between his legs whimpered and squirted out semen onto the floor, staining and igniting his secrets with you.

“Oh my GOD!” He cried through the stimulation.

Series of seconds after his loaded orgasm, you swiftly breathed out a heavy groan and pulled out to jerk the remainder of your lust. Avoiding the direct contact of his uniform, your cum drooled and dribbled onto your hand to avoid a mess. Steve was tucking his shirt into his trousers and gave you a flustered smirk.

“Remind me why I hated you again?”

“Sexual frustration,” You grinned, wiping your cum onto some tissue paper, “Don’t lie. You liked me ages before we got together.”

Steve scowled, “Yeah, yeah. You find it funny, big guy. I’m the boss here!”

“Okay, sir. We better go meet the others.”

“Sir? What are you playing at?” He protested and followed your lead.

-

“Look who decided to show up!” Trevor tormented, leaning forward onto his chair, “The two cocks.”

“Very funny, Philips. Maybe you should take a shower at some point. There is an invention called soap and hair-wash!” Slandered the man beside you. His legs were wobbly after your interaction, immediately catching Michael’s attention.

“Where have you guys been?” He raised the question.

You scratched your forehead, “I went to the bathroom.”

“And I also went to the bathroom.” Steve stupidly said. You facepalmed… Now your cover was blown.

“Shit, man. Dave was right.” Franklin murmured as he rested his chin against the palm of his hand. Out of everyone, he seemed the least affected by this.

“What? Whatever. Get yourselves together! We got a revolution to plan!” Haines demanded with his beamy voice. You sat down beside Dave, earning a side eye which would suggest his awareness of your sexual relationship with Steve. There was no thought behind his eyes. It was like he knew…

“Are you gonna ditch us again and shag your boyfriend?”

Michael sighed, “Enough, Trev. Let’s get on with this.”

You inhaled shakingly as Trevor’s eyes burnt into yours. The psychopath found amusement in your embarrassment but luckily… He refrained himself from further humiliation. You’ll have to thank Steve for this MONSTRISITY later on.

[mrslittletall]

Okay, I guess after five acts and 4k pages of Homestuck, you all want to know my opinion (TM). First, I can't believe y'all acted like this is a totally cringy webcomic. I thought it would be like the Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff comics, totally unreadable and people are just in for the memes. Nobody, absolutely nobody told me I would get thrown into a heartfelt story about a group of juveniles whose lives are getting upside down by a game they played, a game that seems to be responsible for them even existing. And the music! I heard that Toby Fox made music for the game, but not only him, all the other composers who worked on the soundtrack are like GOD TIER?! I have Bl1nd Jus1c3 in the background while I write that and will probably listen to another song before I am finished. And yeah, it started a little bit funny. But it was not "Watch John get into shenanigans with his sylladex" for long. The moment sburb started and the alchemiter was down and the countdown started, things started to slowly click in place already. I talked to people on Discord a bit once I reached act five and one of them said "Some people seemto think you can start at act 5." I disagree! You NEED acts 1 and 4 to truly get the whole world building. Also it is very important to get to know John, Rose, Dave and Jade. I would have been VERY confused if I would have started with act 5. So, what do I think of the trolls? I think it is clear that making twelve new characters was a bit much, so the author killed like half of them off before they could really shine, which meant that characters like Eridan never grew over "jerk status". It is clear that around half of the trolls are mostly developed and with them I mean mostly Karkat, Terezi, Vriska, Kanaya and Aradia. And let's talk about Vriska a bit. I am not saying that she was right with anything, she was a selfish bitch for the whole session and seemed to want to get things rights by her doing alone, practically dooming everyone else. Yeah, Terezi's standoff with her was amazing, but... in the dream bubble with doomed John, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. That was a girl cracked by pressure who wished she could have done things else... In the end, it was all her fault, even her own death, but it feels like in another time, in another live, she could have done better. She's a great character, I give her that. Not a great human (troll?) being, but a great character. From the trolls, I ended up liking Terezi the most with Karkat as a close second. The way he was apologizing for giving cancer to the kid's universe... and his sign is quite literally cancer. That got to me, really. In the end, it all felt so very very sad. It was downright hard to keep reading through the pinned panels, because they all felt so hopeless and doomed. And it all culminated in this absolutely amazing 13 minute animation which I learned did crash newgrounds the first time it got uploaded. I am sure I am still not getting everything, but the world building, the characters, this thing is good and I am honestly a bit mad you made me believe it would be the cringiest thing ever.

[galaxy12sblog]

Can't believe I came up with this STUPID idea of making a AU, where everything is different or swapped-?

I made...Bot... and............Dave........a married couple. ...... I need help- :')

The art:

.........

The fact that the guppy is exactly real in my original AU. He's just hiding around the Sweet sea family.

In this AU, Bot and Zach...are ex husbands. They didn't have any children luckily- 🥲. But Zach is friends with Dave. The pain in the neck-

Bot and Zach were married, until it slowly turned to a toxic relationship. Then Dave (jerk) felt sorry for Bot, didn't end the friendship with Zach (wow-?)

Basically Dave and Bot are married (again) have a little sunshine baby boy (y'all better guess those names-!)

If you want to ask questions, feel free.

[yes-i-have-thoughts]

Unwilling Runaway

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ‘TWISTED UPSIDE DOWN’. This is a canon event, or at least semi-canon as of this writing.

Whatever woke her up, she was grateful for. Anything was better than that wolf-like creature chasing her down a corridor.

Evelin stared at the ceiling, willing her heart rate to go down a little bit faster so she could try to go back to sleep. It wasn’t enough that she had lost sleep over Jonah disappearing or Adam up and running away into FAITH, oh no–now she was losing sleep over the fact that she might have wound up there herself as well, years ago.

Well, this has been a fun month.

A low whine she recognized as Dave’s dog came from down the stairs. The dog didn’t sound like he was pacing, so he didn’t have to go out. Then why was he whining in the middle of the night?

The brunette pushed herself upright and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her socked feet cushioned her footfalls as she made her way down the hall and the stairs. She paused on the last step and rubbed sleep out of her eyes, then froze when someone in the kitchen spoke up.

“I’m okay, buddy. You be quiet.”

Evelin slumped her shoulders in relief, her growing fear vanishing. She carefully stepped off the last stair and crept into the kitchen as quietly as she could.

Dave sat at the kitchen table, holding the shaggy dog’s head in his hand. The dog whimpered and licked his hand when he tried to pull it away, getting a tired smile out of him. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept well for days. Evelin’s heart pinched at the thought–maybe that’s part of the reason he had started wearing sunglasses everywhere.

“Dave?”

He jerked slightly and looked up, the dog lifting his head also. He forced another smile for Evelin and waved at her. “Hey, kiddo. What’re you doing up so late?”

“Couldn't sleep,” she said with a shrug.

“Why, did you have a nightmare? D’you wanna talk about it?”

The dog made his way over to Evelin and pushed his head against her. She stroked his head as she mulled over her next words. “I…Yeah, I’d like that.”

‘Why not talk about it?’ She rationalised with herself, pushing the dog away when he nudged her again. ‘The worst that could happen is Dave not believing me.’

Besides, he really looked like he could use a distraction.

--

A few moments later, the two (or three, counting the dog) were situated on the couch with hot chocolate in mugs (though none for said dog). Evelin nervously recounted her nightmare, gripping her pale pink mug as though it were a lifeline. Despite all attempts to soothe her that it hadn’t been real, it was just a dream; a feeling in her gut told her it was real and backed up the memory of her being in FAITH once many years ago. The dog kept giving her knowing looks whenever she stumbled over recounting an event.

Don’t tell her. Does the dog somehow know too?

Dave ruffled her hair and yanked her out of impossible thoughts. “It was just a bad dream, Evelin,” he said, his tone softer than usual. “That’s never going to happen to you. My goodness, kiddo, you’ve got a death grip on that mug like you’ve never been warm before. It must have really scared you.”

Evelin’s face flushed and she hurriedly put the mug down on the coffee table. “Y-Yeah, it really did. I’m sorry–”

“Hey, it’s alright. I’m glad you told me, really.”

A companionable silence fell. Evelin leaned her head on Dave’s shoulder and toyed with the dog’s rough black fur. “I have a question…”

“Shoot.”

“What were you doing up so late?”

Dave didn’t answer. Evelin looked up and noticed he seemed to be struggling to find the words. He eventually took a deep breath and seemed to start over.

“Do you remember…The kid I told you about? Mark?”

“The guy who ran away? Yeah, I did.”

Dave winced at Evelin’s blunt wording. “I don’t think I ever said that he was my nephew, did I.”

Oh. Oh. “Um…No. I’m sorry, I thought that–”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. You never asked and I didn’t think to tell you. And well…”

The dog moved off Evelin’s side of the couch and went to Dave, resting his chin on his knee. Dave absentmindedly traced around one of his ears. “I was…Thinking about him. Him and you.”

“How so?”

“You’re almost his age, and–god, sometimes you even sound like him.” He shook his head slightly. “He could be spunky sometimes, when he wanted to be. Anxious, but spunky.”

“Dave?”

He turned his head slightly towards her, showing he was listening. Evelin played with her pajama sleeves as she tried to word her question as sensitively as she could. “He didn’t really run away, did he?”

Dave nodded, then shook his head. “I don’t know. I refuse to believe that he did. He loved his little sister and he had plans for school–last year of high school, college, everything. He was going to be an artist.”

“So then why would he run away?”

“Well that’s the thick of it, isn’t it? It doesn’t make any sense for him to. But as far as anyone knows, he went out on his first day of work one day and never came back. No clues were left, no phone calls, no letters, nothing. Even his book of reassurances didn’t tell us anything. My two friends–you know Ruth and Thatcher. They turned over every little piece of information they could find, but they never found him.”

This was starting to sound awfully familiar. Evelin’s heart felt heavy as it dawned on her what likely happened, but Dave sounded far too fragile to be told such an unbelievable truth. He’d think she was making fun of him.

“I feel like you’re starting to pull away,” he went on, running his fingers through his bangs before looking at her. “Maybe it’s nothing, you are–at that age, after all. I just keep thinking of him, and…I don’t want you to end up like him, kiddo.”

Her heart pinched again when his voice broke. She hugged him as tightly as she could manage, shuffling closer to him when he hugged her back just as tightly.

She’d love to tell him that it would never happen. That she’d never run away, no matter what. That she would stay here for as long as he’d let her, grow up here, maybe move into a different house in the county. She didn’t want to leave, not yet.

And yet two of her friends were in FAITH, and the guilt of leaving them there was eating her alive. That, and it felt like someone was watching her. Waiting to catch her when she was alone.

She didn’t want to run away, but it was likely either that or she disappeared just like Mark did.