#the card counter fanfiction

[boredzillenial]

Attitude Adjustment

A friend of your fathers pays you an unexpected visit you aren’t likely to forget.

Themes: dbf!william, mentions of alcoholism, dub-con, mainly brat taming by any means necessary (spanking, slapping, fingering,etc)

Word Count: 3,012

Authors note: proof read on a phone lol, If peeps like this I’ll make a continuation!!

You were aware of Williams existence in the way that most people assume their parents have friends. You knew they served together overseas, and the many nights your father spent drunkly watching trash tv told you it most likely was not a pleasant tour of duty. You also knew like clockwork growing up that you could sneak out with a couple of shots in your belly and see your friends most nights.

You grew up rough, and without a mother and a constantly drunken father you grew up with a mouth like a sailor and the attitude of a grown man. After some time apart from him and a bit of therapy you’d just started to get “better” but there was a deep anger and attitude toward your father you just hadn’t managed to shake. So you were surprised that out of the blue your father had arranged to meet you in Vegas for some “quality time”, but that he had not arrived at the hotel yet and it had been several hours.

Finally you heard a knock at your door, but when you make your way over and look through the peephole you see a vaguely familiar face. “William?” You say confused as you open the door.

“Hey, sorry I’m surprised you remembered.” He puts on a forced smile.

You furrow your brow and cock your head to the side, “Is there a reason you’re at my door?” You ask bluntly.

“Ah, there it is.” He smiles a bit more honestly and looks you in your eyes when he asks “Mind if I come in?”

“A bit,” you say as you begin to close the door, starting to get annoyed by his presence. As you go to shut it there is a firm stop and you see his knuckles around the edge of the door.

He pushes, gently but firmly and steps inside, closing the door behind him. “Your father asked me to come talk to you.” He said as walks further in and sat his bags down on the desk near the bed.

“Oh you’re making yourself comfortable, great.” You say and toss your hands a bit, walking over and sitting on the armchair. “Well alright let’s get it over with.” You cross your arms.

He opens a bag and pulls out a white sheet, neatly and methodically tucking it over the bedding then sitting down on it and matching your stance as he crosses his thick forearms.

“What’s with the sheet?” You nod at it.

“We’ll get to that -“

“What’s he want you to talk to me about?” You say curtly.

He laughs and looks down at the floor “We’ll get to that too. If you don’t interrupt” he raises a brow and looks up at you.” You put your hands up in a gesture of peace and sink further in the chair. “Well, when was the last time you really spoke with him.”

“It’s been a few years, I’m sure he’s told you all about it.” You say very matter of factly. “Then emailed me with plane tickets and a booking reservation for this place out of the blue.”

“He has -“ he nodded “he told me you’re very angry, and bitter.” He stares at you waiting for your response.

You chuckle “That’s one way to put it.”

“He also told me, that he knows he fucked up -” He leans forward, putting his forearms on his knees to stare directly into your eyes “Look I’ve known him for a long time. And I know when last we spoke, the fear in his eyes was real.” He strained.

“Fear?” You questioned.

“Fear of losing you. Fear that you’ll hate him forever. That you’ll walk around with this bad attitude and a chip on your shoulder for the rest of your life.” He clenched his jaw.

Your heartbeat sped up at his directness “Ah so he had you come down here for what, a quick therapy session hmm? Some sort of fucked up come-to-Jesus meeting?!” You stand as your anger builds at the audacity. “You know what you can leave, I’m not doing this.” You move to walk towards the door and his arm shoots out across your shoulders stopping you in your tracks.

“Stay, please” his voice strained as if he was struggling to remain pleasant. The shear intensity of his eyes, the set of his jaw, you back up quickly and sit back in the chair. He lets out a low sigh and pinches his brow. “Alright look, your father didn’t actually set any of this up or send me. I… I did. I decided to come talk with you after I saw him a week or so ago.”

You raise a brow, “So what is this exactly. What’s your goal here.” You lean forward in the chair, “Did you think you could just force yourself into my hotel room and make me forgive him? That one short conversation would fix years of issues?!” Your voice began to raise as the pain from the past began welling up.

He watched silently as you continued, his deep brown eyes softening a bit. “You really think you can fix any of what he’s done? Or the years of shit he didn’t do?” Tears well up in your eyes as the anger sends your heart thundering in your chest. He kneels down in front of your chair and puts his hands on your knees in an attempt to steady you. You look away from him, anger building now at the look of pity in his eyes.

He grabs your chin gently and turns your head to face him. He looks deeply in your eyes as he says “I can never make it right. I can never prevent that pain from happening or apologize for him.” You shake your head out of his grasp and scowl as hot tears fall down your face. He sighs and continues, “But what I would like to do is help you release. Help you learn to let go so you can live without anger eating you up inside.” You move to stand he places a hand on your chest to stop you. Something shift in his eyes at your attempt “I’m gonna help you whether you like it or not.” He growls.

“Who the fuck do you think you are.” You growl in return and grab his wrist to move his hand but it doesn’t budge.

He smirks “I’m so glad you asked.” He backs up and stands. “I’m the one whose gonna fix that attitude. And I’ve got a few ways to do it.” He takes a step back and reaches into his bag. He pulls out rope, a paddle, and of all things a vibrator.

You freeze and look at the items he’s laid methodically on the bed. “You can’t be fucking serious…” you say breathlessly as you stare at the vibrator and feel the heat in your body rising.

“Oh I’m dead serious.” He smirks “You’ll learn to let go one way or another… So, if you don’t talk with me. We’ll have to resort to my alternative methods.” He looks down at his tools with a smirk for a moment, and you take that moment to bolt for the door. You hear him let out a grunt and his footsteps thud as he quickly wraps his arms around your waist and hoists you up. You kick like crazy and go to scream before he throws you on the bed and clamps a hand over your mouth. “None of that.” He glares “I do have a gag, don’t make me use it…”

You freeze, the look in his eyes deadly serious as he keeps his hand clamped over your mouth. “Now, I think for that little stunt you’ve already earned a little something… Have you ever been spanked before?” He says softly. Fear spreads across your face as you shake your head slowly. “Of course you haven’t.” He scoffs.

“I’m gonna sit on the bed and you’re gonna bend over my lap. Do not try to scream or run again or things are gonna get a lot more difficult for you. Understood?” He nearly growls just inches from your face. You nod slowly and he releases the grip from around your mouth. He stands, looking you over for a moment before nodding and sitting beside you on the bed. “Come on.” He pats his lap.

You remain where you are as you look at him. Processing whether he really meant what he said when he threatened things would get worse if you run. The smirk on his face told you everything you needed to know. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and shimmied off the bed. You stood and adjusted your clothes for a moment as you looked down at him. His eyebrow raised in challenge, almost daring you to try to make a run for it again. You take a deep breath and go to take a step but everything is screaming inside of you to run for the door.

“Here…” he pats his lap again staring you down. You don’t move, your heart thunders in your chest as your eyes lock on his lap. “Now!” His order jolted you out of your momentary trance. You grit your teeth and awkwardly lean across his lap, unsure in your movements. You let out a sigh as you settle across his lap. “Was that so hard?” He said, the softness of his voice contrasting the shout from before. “You’re gonna count -“

“How many -“ you begin to ask then SMACK, his hand comes down on your rear, the soft pj pants doing nothing to protect you from the sting. Tears well up and you bite your fist to stop from crying out.

“Stop. Interrupting… You’re gonna count after every one. I’ll stop when I say we’re done. Now, because of your interruption you lose these.” He yanks your pj pants down to your knees. Exposing the fresh sting to the cold hotel air. You squeeze your eyes shut as you realize what he’s seeing. “Going commando huh?” He chuckles. “That’s make this much more interesting…” he SMACKS your other cheek, this time you can’t stop the yelp that jumps out of your throat.

“Two.” You whimper.

“Oh no, that first one was just for me. This is one and this -“ he smack again “is two.” You curl over his lap and can’t help but wiggle as the sting sets in. You feel a firm hand run up your back over your shirt. Fingers intertwine with the hair at the nape of your neck and your head is pulled back so you are looking at him. “Don’t. Struggle…” he moves your head back down to focus on the pattern in the hotel carpet as he continues to deal out your punishment. You manage to count to 8 before tears are falling steadily and you could feel wetness gathering at your core.

He tuts and gently runs his hand over the raised handprints on your rear and you lurch away and yell at the radiating pain. “Shhh shhh. These stung but they won’t bruise. You’ll be sore for about 24 hours and you’ll be fine.” He says softly as he moves his hand to run up and down your back. You can feel him lean to inspect his work. “Oh.” You hear the surprise in his voice. He moves his hand from your back to your rear and pulls you apart “would you look at that.” He chuckles as you feel a finger run up your slick center. You gasp and look back at him in panic.

“Stay.” He says curtly as his fingers continue to explore. He swirls gently through your folds and down to your clit which drew out a groan and your legs flexed to try and close. He spanked your ass again and you winced “Stay…” his voice grew darker and you could feel the tightening of his pants against your stomach as he swirled around that bundle of nerves again. Another groan rumbles in your chest as he works and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Good, just breathe.” He said softly as he moved up toward your slick opening. He sunk a finger deep inside causing you to gasp. “Shhh just breathe”. He cooed as his other hand rubbed your back. Your face grew hot and you felt confusion and shame bubble up as he worked his finger in and out of you slowly. He leaned toward your ear. “I think you’re ready for a couple more”. He said as he pulled his hand back then sunk three fingers deep into you.

You grit your teeth and whimper as he stretched you deliciously with his fingers. “You’re doing so well.” He praised as he continued as he shifted again to look at his working hand. “So tight-“ he rasped and that prodding at your stomach grew firmer as he adjusted his legs slightly. “I wanna feel you come on my hand.”

You crossed your arms and did your best to bury your face in your arms as he continues to pump his dexterous fingers into you. “P-please.” You stammer as your feelings conflicted between pleasure and shame.

“Please what,” he slowed down “what do you need.” He leaned back towards your face.

“I can’t… like this…” You weren’t sure how to explain to him you needed more attention at that bundle of nerves in order to meet his request.

“Ah I see. Stand up”. He pulled his fingers out of you and helped you stand. You tried to pull the hem of your shirt down as you stood with your lower half exposed infront of him. “You won’t need that”. He pulls and your top and sports bra come off in one swift motion. He took a moment to almost lean back as he took your naked form in. “Goddamnit” he sighed with a smirk. “Get on the bed.”

You moved quickly and winced as you sat down on the soft mattress and snapped your legs shut. His smirk remained as he shook his head. “Open, or I’ll do it for you…” he leaned toward you. Instinctively you attempt shimmy backward and wince again at the friction against your tender rear. He quickly grabs your ankles and yanks you to the edge of the bed. It feels as if it takes him very little of his strength to pry your knees apart, exposing your slick core to him.

You felt fear rise at the excitement in his eyes. He pulled you forward again so your ass was at the edge of the bed as he knelt down. You looked down at him as his eyes darkened and he lunged forward.

The heat of his tongue split you open and sent you reeling. You weren’t sure how he’d start but diving his tongue as deep as he could while nuzzling your clit with his nose what not what you expected. You arched and clung to the tight white sheet he put down as he continued.

Then as suddenly as he started he stopped. He looked up at you with a devilish grin as he wiped his face. “Couldn’t help it.” He chuckled as he adjusted so he was laying beside you. He ran his hand across your chest then up to your throat, gripping it firmly as he forced you to look into his eyes. “Your eyes stay right here. Understood?” He growled.

You gulped and nodded. His hand released from your throat and trailed down to your body. His eyes bore into yours as his fingers curled inside of you. First one, then another, finally stopping with three. You gasped and arched against him, his arm and fingers like steel as he continued keeping you in place. He began to slowly pump in and out of you. The addition of his thumb on your clit sent you reeling as you bit your lip and fought to keep your eyes open. “That’s right, eyes on me.” He rasped, a blush creeping his own face as his breathing became uneven.

He kept his eyes on yours as he adjusted to kneel on the bed beside you. He worked his fingers harder and began to play with your chest. Eliciting another groan as he grazed his other thumb over your sensitive peaks. This time you couldn’t help but to close your eyes to enjoy the sensations he was pulling from you. As you felt pleasure building you felt a stinging slap across your cheek and that firm grip around your throat. Your eyes shot open as he was leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “Eyes. On. Me.” He punctuated each word with a firm thrust of his fingers and your hips bucked in response.

“Y-yes…” you groan, your mind swimming with the tension that threatened to snap you in two.

He picked up to a punishing pace as he continued to stare you down. When you came you did so hard enough to nearly headbut him as you arched and writhed. But he kept his pace, his grip on your throat, and the press of his head against yours steady. Anchoring you in place. “Good, good girl. Let go, I’ve got you.” He encouraged as you rode wave after wave of pleasure. His pace slowed as you began to jump instead of writhe due to your oversensitive clit.

He pulled back and pulled his hand free from you. You and he both breathless and sweaty as he licked his fingers clean. Heat rose in you as you watched him close his eyes and hum at the taste of you on his hand. As he finished he looked back down at you with a smirk. “That was a good first step.” He chuckled.

“First step?” You questioned softly.

“Oh honey, this is gonna be a long night with many steps.” He chuckled, undoing his belt as you hear a loud zip.

—————

Masterlist

[blue-sadie]

The Focused

William Tell x FWB Reader

Series Masterlist

Prt 7 of the Different Versions Series

Summary: waking up in a room with another version of your husbands but he's so much like them

Warning: mention of mirror sex

Yn/3rd person pov

The light streaming through the gaps of the curtain shown onto my face waking me from my peaceful slumber I groaned turning over only to come into contact with another warm body.

I stirred fully when I felt hands on my thigh bringing me closer to it "don't leave just yet" the man grumbled his voice still raspy and laced with sleep "ok" I whispered my eyes opening coming face to face with another doppelganger, he looked very much like marc but with patches gray hair.

"I can feel you staring" he murmured his eyes fluttering open to stare into mine, my breath caught in my throat as he started drawing patterns on my thighs "what time is it" he yawned turning his head to look at the clock that was on the bed side table his finger tips never leaving my skin.

"Shit I have to get to the casino soon" he grumbled slowly getting out the bed "the casino" I questioned leaning up onto my elbows he glanced at me with a look I can only describe as 'you should already know this' "I'm gonna be back late but I'd think it be nice to have my lucky charm here waiting for me" he winked grabbing his clothes that were scattered around the room and fumbled putting them on.

I bit my lip one thing I can say about all the doppelgangers of him have his nice ass "you know it's rude to stare" I looked up at him to find him looking at me through the mirror "sorry" I squeaked falling back to laying down, I stretched out my limbs and arched my back groaning out as I heard a few cracks.

"I'll see you later lucky charm" he murmured before walking out the door I sat up sighing yawning the last of my tiredness away, I removed the blankets my body shivering as it was exposed to the cold morning I sat up moving my legs to hang off the edge breathing for a few minutes and my hands hold my neck as I moved my head to each side.

"Looks like they had a fun night" I murmured to myself looking around the very messed up room, I rose to my feet and almost stumbled over my legs feeling sore I looked down my eyes widening as I see my well doppelganger's dried up juices all down my thighs "what the actual fuck" I cringed and slowly limped forward holding anything that could support me as I went.

I looked at the mirror where he stood and moved a bit closer my eye brows frowning as I see hand prints on the mirror "mirror sex" I murmured amused I giggled slightly and shook my head slightly remembering when me and jake did it so marc and steven could watch "fuck" I sighed happily remembering all the dirty things that the other boys told jake to tell me.

I let out a long sigh before limping my way to the connecting bathroom turning on the shower as I slowly gathered the few clothes I could find which was probably one of his shirts a pair of panties and a sports bra I hummed placing the stuff and a towl on the counter i saw a small piece of paper that look like a small note or a torn piece of a letter 'dear William' that was the only thing that was on it maybe thats his name.

I shrugged and placed it down before stepping into the shower relaxing as the hot water hit my skin, I took some time under the water cleaning myself and just enjoying the warm water but I knew I couldn't be in here for too long.

I turned off the water and leaned out the shower grabbing my towl to dry myself off humming slightly as I dressed myself my legs still feeling a bit tender but way better then what it was, I made my way back to the bed retaking my spot in the bed under the covers relaxing into the mattress sleep soon consumed me and I don't know how long I slept for.

"I will never get tired of this sight" I stirred slightly as I heard his distant voice a small moan left my lips as I felt pressure against my clit "f-fuck" I whined opening up my eyes to stare down at him, he was settled between my legs one of his hands gripping my thigh while the other one was tracing his finger tips up and down my core.

"William" I moaned pushing my hips up again lazily "that's it lucky charm" he smirked sticking two of his fingers inside me making my muscles clench he slowly thrusted his fingers in and out in slow agonizing strokes he smiled as my body shook as he thrusted his fingers in and out his breath fanning over my pussy.

"Please" I begged my eyes filled with hunger and lust "that's all you needed to do" he said and pulled out his hands ran up and down my thighs his eyes still staring into mine, my eyes flickered to his hands that left my skin moving up his things to the hem of his jeans slowly moving to unbuckle his belt.

I watched as his hands slowly pushed down his jeans and boxers intil they were pooled at his knees my eyes fluttered as I watched him grab ahold of his cock dragging his finger tips along the girth of his cock his own body shaking as he did so.

"Fuck yn" he breathed slowly adjusting himself intil his cock was by my entrance, he rubbed the head of his cock against my clit making me whine and moving against him "stop teasing" I whined squirming slightly as he chuckled "why don't you beg me like you did last night" he growled, "please william please" I panted making him smirk down at me.

"Since you asked so nicely" he whispered slowly pushing in, my reaction made him chuckle "still not used to me" he asked making me slap his shoulder lightly, he chuckled before starting to pull out and push in "oh fuck" I moaned wrapping my legs around his waist as he thrusted inside of me.

He panted and groaned as he leaned down so our mouths were only inches apart so our breathes mixed together "so fucking gorgeous" he groaned kissing my lips roughly, the kiss was rough and sloppy our moans, "fuck" I muttered feeling myself getting closer to the edge of my climax.

"Fuck I can feel you tighten around me" he grunted his thrusts fastening as his cock started to pulse inside me, my hands hands moving to wrapping around his neck tightening around it as I cam my body jolting as the pleasure shoot through my body "oh fuck" he cursed throwing his head back as he cam inside me he panted collapsing onto of me his hands grabbing my hips and shifted us into a comfortable position with his cock still inside me, I nuzzled into his chest my eyes fluttering as sleep soon consumed me.

"Just by fucking you I get all the luck I need and you get the pleasure you deserve, sleep tight my lucky charm sweet dreams"

[romanarose]

Washed In Black: Chapter 1

Darkish!William Tell x fem!Reader

Masterlist : Join my taglist! : playlist

Summary: A young cocktail waitress at a casino takes interest in William but he rebuffs her advances. Still, he can't get her out of his head. When he follows her home, he stopped an attempted attack and brings her back to his hotel. Wanting company Will invites her on the road with him, just for the summer before her final year of college... It's just a summer fling, right?

Content and Warnings: No happy ending, oops. Darkish!Will, but not really dark to reader. big ole age gap, reader is 21, Will is early 40's. Attempted rape, reader defends herself but William finishes the job. Will briefly stalks her but there was no nefarious intent. Possessive Will, protective Will, hints too Will having OCD (my personal headcanon), PTSD from both Will and reader, reader has a shitty homelife but not abusive like I usually write. Canon typical violence. Alcohol and smoking from everyone involved. More will likely be added as we go but I'll add them in chapters under "additional warnings"

Immersability: References to reader having hair. She works at a casino as a cocktail waitress, takes place in the US and her and her parents live in the US currently. Reader generally dresses "sexy" in casinos, I know not everyone does for different reasons So I figured I should note that.

Authors Note: This fic has been in my head since last November when I saw this movie. It's my comfort movie and IDC how weird that sounds lol. I've gone back and forth on whether this needs to be a one shot or series, but I think miniseries just makes sense. I'm thinking 3 chapters.

Comment if you'd like to be tagged going forward!

3.5 Words

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Will wasn’t stalking you, really, he wasn’t.

He just wanted to make sure you got home safe. You’d caught his eye all week, bringing him drinks at the casino he was at for the time being, pretty, flattering dresses. He liked that you wore flats instead of heels. You looked more comfortable. He liked that you had a soft smile on your face, and he liked that you were clearly eyeing him. He’s only human, after all. Did he feel a bit of guilt for checking out someone so much younger than him? Yes, of course he did, but it was just looking… right?

You threw that out the window when you sat down next to him and slid him a drink. When Will gives you a quizzical look, you clarify. “Ton Collins. That’s what you drink, isn’t it?”

It was. You’d been paying attention. “Yeah, it is. But I didn’t order one.”

“Don’t worry, this ones on me.” You gesture to where your ballet flats had been traded for Converse. “I’m off the clock”

Will takes a sip. “Still doesn’t explain why you gave me a drink.”

You roll your eyes, but smile still. “Men aren’t the only ones who can buy drinks.”

A little bit of bite to you, he notes before condeeding. “Fair enough.” William takes his new class and holds it up, smiling when you clink it to his.

Fidgeting in your seat, you look around at the bright lights and bustle of the casino as you try to stoke a conversation. “What’s your name, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Will can sense your nervousness from two seats down, trying to keep his eyes from the tight red dress wrapped around your body. He tried to stay polite, you were just a kid after all. “William Tell, and your-” His sentence was interrupted by your laughter, bright and jovial and although he didn’t know what was funny, it made him happy to hear. “What’s so funny”

“Nothing!” You shake your head, trying to move on, as you cover the smile on your red lips. Same shade as your dress. When you see he doesn’t buy it, you smile harder and elaborate. “It’s just, I expected you to give me a fake name, but I didn’t expect it to be so…”

“To be soooo” He urges you on.

“So obvious!” A fresh bout of laughter, and while he was aware you were making fun of him, he couldn’t help smiling gently. 

“That is my name.” He lied.

“Yeah, and mine’s maid Marian.”

“You’re thinking of Robin Hood.”

“Same thing.”

“Not really.”

“Whatever.” You tell him your name, and he reaches out to shake your hand. The firm but gentle shake makes your heart skip a beat. He was handsome, a head of straight, fully grey hair, and although you were certain he wouldn’t take kindly to you calling him a DILF, that’s what was going through your head. What appealed the most, however, was his manners. Many a man at this casino had attempted to woo you, to buy you, to assault you. Men were disgusting. With this man, however, although you could tell he was checking you out, it wasn’t leering. You didn’t feel like he was mentally undressing you. He simply said please and thank you and kept to himself and god, it made you want him. You didn’t sleep with the men here as a personal rule… but maybe he could be an acception.

“You can call me Bill, since you don’t like my name.”

“I’m not doing that either.”

She’s a bit of a brat, he notes. “Why not?”

“Too King of the Hill.”

A slight chuckle escaped him. She is trouble.

“Can I call you Will?”

“Whatever makes you happy.” You wouldn't be calling him anything. Will would talk to you while he finished the drink, he didn’t want to be rude, but he wasn’t going to indulge you. You weren’t the first young cocktail waitress that had made a move on him, and plenty of girls barely old enough to drink spent their time hooking at casinos, but William wasn’t that kind of guy. He didn’t have anonymous sex, he didn’t really have sex, and he certainly wasn’t entertaining girls young enough to be his daughter… But Will was fighting for his life. You’d scooted over to the chair next to him, had been very clearly leaning in ways to show him your tits, smiling at him with that youthful grin… No, he couldn’t indulge you. 

When you got the hint that he wasn’t about to invite you to his room (he wasn’t staying at the casino anyway), you made a graceful exit, telling him to have a nice night and good luck.

But he couldn’t shake the thought of you.

It was for your safety.

He was just going to make sure you made it out of the crowds okay.

When he saw you were walking home, he was just going to make sure you got home okay. It was dangerous at 2 am for a young girl.

William repeatedly validated his action in his head as he watched you. You were just not being safe. Walking alone, headphones in your ear… something loud and aggressive he assumed by the way you banged your head, did air guitar and drum solo’s… you weren’t paying attention at all. All this was validated on it’s own, however, when William realizes he’s not the only one following you.

The man appears almost out of nowhere not far from the casino and grabs you, pulling you into a dark alleyway before he can jump in. As William runs to the scene, he’s surprised to find you were not quite as helpless as he thought, watching you take a stabber keychain and thrusting it into his side.

“Holy shit” William mutters as he watches the man bleed, but you turn to him, the stabber pointed at his chest.

“WATCH IT!” You yell, but you’re clearly posturing. Your whole body is shaking.

“Relax” William put his hands up, beginning to build his lie. “I saw him following you, I’m not here to hurt you.” 

The man on the ground groans loudly in pain, and your shaking becomes uncontrollable. You drop the stabber and rush into his arms. Jesus, you’re naive. So trusting. Another moan and William looks at the man. He was a rapist. Well, attempted one with you, but men like that dont just rape once.

“Go home.” He tells you. “I’ll take care of this.”

You shout a no. “You can’t leave me alone! We’ll call the police!”

Naive indeed. William takes you a few steps away, holding you by the shoulders. “The police won’t do anything but arrest you for stabbing him.”

Confused, you try to argue. “But it’s self defense, he tried to-”

“Your word against his. Women get arrested for defending themself from rape all the time, it’s hard to prove attempted rape.”

The tears never stopped from your pretty eyes. “Then can’t we just… leave him?”

Sweet young thing… William shook his head. “I’m not leaving a rapist alive.”

The man starts begging for his life, alternating between pleas to you, and then when that doesn’t work, telling William that you were asking for it. That didn't help his case. William carefully guides you, taking you out of the alley and away from the bleeding man. “Stay here” He grabs your dropped airpods and tells you to turn up the music.

And you do. 

Linkin Park, as loud as it can go, still doesn’t drown out all the sounds that came from the alley.

When William came back in sight, he was covered in blood. He thought you should be horrified… but the way you looked at him was like his night in shining amour. “C’mon. I’ll drive you home.”

“No!” You surpsise him with your answer.

“Or we can walk, that’s-”

“I don’t wanna go home!” When he looked confused, you elaborate. “It’s lonely there, my parent… they act like I don’t exist, and I’m scared, Will. I’m fucking scared and they are no help. Please, please can’t I go with you?”

Bad idea. “No, I don’t think that’s-”

“Please?”

William heard sirens not far away. The dead man’s screams must’ve alerted someone… fuck, they needed to leave. “Fuck, come on.” William wrapped an arm around her, taking her through the alley. “Don’t look at him.” He kept a hand at her head, keeping her eyes forward. Through the backways and slipping into darkness, William took her to where his car was parked and ripped out of the  parking lot.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Are you going to tell me where you live?” He asks but you stay silent. He sighs. “Honey how old are you?”

You hesitate. “26”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“Why do you care?”

“I want to make make sure I won’t get arrested for kidnapping a minor!”

“I work at a casino!”

Okay. Fair point. “Just checking, because you said you lived with your parents.”

“It’s a shit economy.”

“Hey, I’m not judging you, I was in prison by 26.” That was enough to make you turn to him. He glanced over to you. “Yeah, you still wanna stay with an ex con?”

“What were you in prison for” Nosy little girl.

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Was it it rape?”

“No”

“Then I don’t really care.”

“You should”

“But I don’t.”

 “Do you really want to stay with me tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. You can stay with me. For one night, I’m heading out tomorrow.”

“Fine.” A short pause. “Thank you.”

“It’s fine.”

“For all of it.”

“It’s fine.”

When you arrived at the motel and Will opened the door, you were regretting your choice. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Of course his room setup was going to be off putting. He didn’t have an explanation for himself, so he never bothered on the rare occasion someone saw it.

“You’re going to kill me.”

Well that was not what he was expecting. William turned to you. “What?” he reiterated with more vigor.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes before groaning. “God dammit I’m so fucking stupid. My dad was right, I was gonna get myself killed some day!”

He called your name. “What are you talking about? I’m not gonna kill you.”

Gesturing vaguely towards the room, all the furniture, paintings, chairs all wrapped up. “Covering the fucking room? Clearly you’re planning to slit my throat and throw away the evidence.”

William pushed past you. “If I slit your throat, the blood would go everywhere, walls, ceiling, all of it. Covering the bedside table won’t do shit.”

“Oh. That’s comforting, I guess.”

“Are you coming in or not?”

Well, what option did you have? You close the door and take in the room. It was so… plain. 

“Why do you cover everything?”

William simply shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine.” He pulls out some clothes, handing you a t shirt and pants and some for himself. “I’m going to shower since I’m covered in blood.” He states plainly, seemingly unphased. “You can shower after, wear these.”

“Thank you.”

After everything was settled, you sat on the bed watching tv while William wrote in a book. “You can lay on the bed, you know. It’s late.”

He didn’t look up. “I’ll sleep here.”

“Oh come on, I’m not taking your damn bed.”

“I don’t sleep much anyway.”

“Ohhhhh mysterious.”

That was enough to make Will turn around, a light smile creeping on his features. “You haven't told me much about yourself either.” He deflected. “What”s a niice girl like you doing in a trashy casino?”

Swinging your legs over the bed, you force yourself up and over to him. “Pays for tuition.”

When you make your way over, Will stands up, looking down at you as his hair flopped in his face. The action closed a lotof distance, bringing him close to you. The left over energy from what happened tonight was buzzing in both of you, unable to sleep despite the late hours of the morning. “Oh yeah? You’re in school?”

“Mhm. Geology at Notre Dame”

“Realy?” He was impressed. 

“Yup, senior year.”

“Hm. Pretty and smart.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. William was so worked up, the brutal murder of the man who attempted to rape her transfering into a sexual energy that was getting hard to control. 

He expected you to get uncomfortable, but you lit up at his words. “You think I’m pretty?”

It was all slipping out now. “You know damn well that you are. All dressed up in those tight, skimpy dresses, showing yourself off, flirting with me all week…” He took a step forward, but you didn’t move back, instead leaning in ever so slightly.

“And you weren’t flirting back?”

William huffed a short laugh. “I was trying not to. You make it awfully hard.”

It was you who closed the gap, feeling his plush lips against yours. His kiss was immediately hungry, starving, William’s mouth opening wide to take all of you in, to taste the expanse of you. “Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing this.” But he made no effort to stop, walking you backwards until you topple on the bed. 

You were winey and desperate, rutting your hips up into him as he pawed at you. “Need you to fuck me.” You beg him. 

“Relax.” Will purrs in your ear, slowly grinding into your spread legs. He was going to take his time with you, fuck you right… but god he was barely holding on himself, so worked up that he needed to release himself somehow. He continued kissing you, licking into your mouth and stifling your pretty little sounds because he just can’t keep his mouth off of you when he feels it. You were shaking.

“Hey,” William pulls back, cupping your face. “Hey, you alright?”

When you look up at him, wide-eyed, Will is stuck by how young you look. “Y-yeah I’m fine I just…” You chuckle nervously. “Not a whole lot of experience in this department.”

Will gives you another few inches of space. “Are you a virgin?”

“No,” You try to assure him, but his intense gaze boring into you did not help the nerves. “Just… not much better.”

Sighing, he drops his forehead to yours. “How old are you?”

“26-”

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m 21.”

Another sigh, Will rolled off, but you try to fix it, grabbing at him. “No! Will, I’m sorry, I want you-”

His eyes were pinched closed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Let’s just… lets just go to sleep.”

Embarrassed and sexually frustrated, you begin to shuffle under the blankets with Will. “Can you… can you hold me?”

“Yeah, yeah I can do that.”

William wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his body. You could feel his hardness, but his closeness comforted you. Will made you feel safe.

*

That morning, you were woken up to the sound of Will packing and you made it a point to groan dramatically. “UUUGGHHHH Why the hell are you up so early?”

“I told you, I don’t sleep much” He was folding up his linens, slowly making the room look normal. 

“Ooooo edgy”

“Check out at 10 anyway.”

You grumble, rubbing your face into the pillow. “Do you have to go? Can’t you stay another day?”

Will stopped his movements, pausing before he pulled up a now-uncovered chair to where you lay. With his legs manspreading, he placed his elbows on his knees, folded his hands and leaned towards you. “What’s keeping you here? You clearly don’t care for your parents, your job you can get anywhere, pretty girl like you. What’s keeping you here?”

You’re taken aback by his question, but answer honestly. Early morning grogginess doesn’t leave much room for deception. “Just making enough money to pay for next years school.”

“How much do you think you’ll make this summer.”

You give him an estimate. 

He nods. “Leave with me.”

Blink. “Huh?”

“Travel with me. I’ll pay you what you would make at the end and bring you back to school at the start of the summer. I’ll pay for your food, clothes, anything you need.”

You can’t help but huff at that. “What what money? Sorry, but this isn’t exactly a luxury room.”

Little shit. He grabs one of his bags, opens it, revealing large stacks of hundred dollar bills. “I count cards. I keep to modest means but… there’s no reason I can’t win more.”

“Hooooolyyyyy shit.” He was loaded. Absolutely loaded. You get off the pillow, looking back and forth between Will and the money. There’s no reason you couldn’t go. Well, it was dangerous, a strange man you didn’t know taking you across the country… but you were never one for impulse control. Still, you think of last night. “I’m not… I’m not a hooker.”

“It’s not about sex.” When you look suspicious, he presses on. “It gets lonely on the road. I just… want some company. Two and a half months, just us, like a summer vacation. You’ll have everything you need to finish school, I promise.”

His eyes were earnest, and despite the fact you heard him slaughter a man only feet away from you… you trust him.

A few hours later, you and him were on the road. You sent a text to your boss who was none to happy about quitting with no notice, and left a note for your parents when you got your essential saying you left with a friend. They didn’t care enough to question that you didn’t have any friends in your home town anymore.

Will’s car was old but clean. Comfortable. The next destination was Seattle and after hours of begging, he let you put on your own music instead of the silence.

“What the fuck is this shit.”

“It’s Green Day, I thought you would know Green Day, old man.”

He wanted to wipe that bratty smirk right off her face. “This isn’t any Green Day I know.”

“Yeah, cause you probably only know American Idiot, poser.” When Will turned to you with a cocked eyebrow, you backtrack. “Sorry.”

“That’s what I thought.”

*

When you and Will check into your hotel, he paid in cash. Great, no paper trail in case you’re murdered. Wonderful. Sometimes you wonder what was going through your head when you left with him, but you couldn’t find yourself regretting it. You enjoyed his company so far, even if he was cranky. It was cute.  He was cute. You wanted to suck his dick.

“Here.” Will handed you a wad of cash. “There’s a strip mall down the street, get something nice for tonight.”

You smile up at him cheekily, swaying your hips a bit as you walk over to take the money. Fuck, you had a sugar daddy. “Don’t you wanna come with? Make sure you approve of what I buy, stay on budget?” You graze his hand with your fingers as you take it.

He simple began to unpack his linens. “Your budget is whats there.” There had to be at least $1000. “I gotta take care of this.”

“Ah. The weird room thing.”

“Yes, the weird room thing.”

You left him too it, taking the money and going for a shopping spree. You do, of course, pick out what you were sent for. A beautiful black sparkling dress, designer because why not, and some fancy jewelry to go with it. Shoes, however, you get from the department store. You’d do a lot of things, but wearing heels was not one of them. You couldn’t take the pain anymore.

While almost out the door, you spot a little something in a store window, something you’d always wanted but you budget wouldn’t justify it.

*

A few hours later, you exit the motel bathroom all dolled up. Will was sitting on the bed, phone in hand, only looking up when you exited. “Oh.” Was his first muttered response as he stood.

You blush, looking down. “That all?”

“No, shit, sorry.” he mumbles. “You look beautiful. Sorry, I’m… I’m not good with words…”

You’d noticed that. Not that he wasn’t good with words, just that he didn’t talk much. You didn’t mind, he was… peaceful. 

Right before you and William left for the night out, his lady luck on his arms you stop him. “Wait wait!” You say before going to your pile of bags and pulling out a polaroid camera you had bought today.

“Ah come on. Do we have to take pictures?” He grumbled with only a half hearted attempt at resistance.

“If I’m having a summer fling and a road trip, I’m documenting it. I promise I won’t always take pictures of you.”

“Fine.” 

“You’re like that grumpy eagle muppet.”

“What the fuck-”

 You snapped the picture just as he turned, giggling as it developed. Despite his resistance, Will leaned over to see it: You, smiling brightly at the camera, him, looking grumpy as he frowned at you.

“You’re gonna pay for that.” Will warned, his voice low but a bit of tease was there. His hand gently guided you out the door.

The night awaits.

****************

Almost a year in the making ;-;

Tagging those who've expressed interest in various mentions lol sorry if i forgot anyone! Note that things changed a lot at various points developing this in the minor details but the major plotline stayed the same

Special shout out to Melsy and Clem and Mona and Ceira for always encouraging me with this at various points.

Like dark fics? This aint darkenough for you? Come check out my dark blog

@whatthefishh @melodygatesauthor @hon3yboy @fandxmslxt69 @winniethewife @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @milkymoon2483

[melodygatesauthor]

TY FOR HOSTING THIS ROMANA!!!! It was so much fun!!

Dead Dove December 2023 Masterlist

Hello everyone!

So sorry it took forever to get this out, but it took me 5ever to read through these fics bc I was expresso depresso and working a lot LMFAOOOOOOO

Anyway, THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR EVERYONE ENTRIES!!! I adore you so so so so much. I am SO HAPPY with how this worked out and the amount of response! I hope to hold another event this March with @for-a-longlongtime at @triplefrontier-anniversary for the TF anniversary over at my main account @romanarose, and an event in June for pride, so if those interest you, follow my main page or this one, or @romana-updates

NOTE: I was unorganized so if I forgot someone's fic, IT WAS NOT ON PURPOSE. I know right now there discourse right now the Pedro fandom specifically, about different people not liking others or small writers or big writers ETC, but I want you to know no one was left out on purpose!

Note 2: If I put your fic here but forgot to reblog LET ME KNOW! I want to make sure everyone gets a chance to shine.

Without further ado, the fics and art!

ALL OF THESE ARE DARK SO SOME DEGREE FROM CNC, DUB CON, TO VIOLENT NON CON! HEAD WARNINGS!

The Last of Us

The Burglary by @aurorawritestoescape and @milla-frenchy: Two men break into your house and take more than just your valuables.

Fight Club by @anama-cara : Post outbreak set in the Boston QZ. You decide to go against Joel in an underground QZ fight club for some extra coin. Joel doesn't take kindly to the competition and decides to punish you in his own special way.

Deja Vu by @milla-frenchy : After a bad experience with a former boyfriend, you meet Joel who makes you trust him fully in the bedroom

Silent Night by @kewwrites : Despite the way he always acted around you, you find it hard to say no to Sarah when she invites you home to her dad's house for the holidays. Surely nothing would happen while she's with you.

Training Day by @koshkamartell : Set in AU, no outbreak. You get more than you bargained for after trying to make Joel jealous.

Code Broken by @auteurdelabre : You only wanted to pull a silly prank on your neighbor, Joel. Who could have seen it ending up like this?

The Art of Breaking by @corazondebeskar-reads : Your meeting is happenstance, but everything that follows? Well, that’s all Joel. He just knows you’re going to be his perfect little toy. He just has to show you how.

Cry Harder by @romana-after-dark : While keeping you captive, Joel's sex drive is insatiable, and the sex seemed to be never ending. You tried to warm him you needed to use the bathroom... he didn't listen.

Nightmare Before Christmas by @katiexpunk : As an escort, you’ve found yourself in some pretty fucked up situations before. Years of experience have taught you to navigate such situations with a combination of tact and assertiveness. Most of the time the men who exude an air of sleaze shrivel back into the corner, embarrassed and limp dicked.  Most of the time.  Tonight is not one of those times.

Locket by @toxicanonymity : Dark!Reader dugs her friends hot dad Joel

Run, Rabbit by @justagalwhowrites : It was just over a year after the world ended that you were captured by Joel and Tommy Miller. They're harsh, they're cold and they're killers. But, as a nurse, you're a valuable person to have around and they're not the worst thing wandering the wasteland that was the United States. And there might be more to these men than meets the eye.

Godless by @javier-penas-wifexx420 : You work at a brothel that operates above a saloon in your town. Joel is the leader of a group of outlaws that come periodically to collect payment and wreak havoc. One visit, you catch Joel’s eye and he decides he has to have you.

Across the Spiderverse

After Dark by @runa-falls : He wants you. and he knows you need him.

Triple Frontier

Deep Seeded Issues by @djarinmuse: Summary: At an N.A (narcotics anonymous) meeting you recall a dark and embarrassing memory, not knowing the connection in the room.

My Blood Would Teach Me How to Love by @winniethewife : Santi finds you self harming, blood kink ensues.

Room's on Fire by @romana-after-dark : Cult AU, Pope, Frankie, Will and Ben are cult leaders and need a virgin to breed who will birth the savior: the Madonna. Initially honored to find redemption, the Madonna has to learn how to navigate all four men and a circle of other people at the house.

Goodnight, Princess by @melodygatesauthor : Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.

The Card Counter

Bad Bet by @boredzillenial and art by @lunar-ghoulie4art : William beats you in a poker tournament, but you just can’t accept defeat, not yet…

Getting Whats Mine by @winniethewife

Lightening Face

Puppy by @darkuselesssomebody : In which the reader is a manipulative bitch - and basil snaps because of it

Mojave

Cruel Intentions by @hon3yboy : You're on a soul seeking journey, just another young, pretty, thing. All alone and stranded in the desert, ripe for the picking and ol' Jack has his eyes set on you.

Moon Kight

Death to Dignity by @juneknight : An intruder (Marc) breaks in to your apartment.

*************

I cannot thank you enough for your support and interaction for htis series!!!!! I had SUCH a good time reading all these, you are all so talented!!!

I hope to do more events soon as it's really helped me make some friends and get to know people here!!!!

Please remember to reblog these authors, and if you're tagged here, be sure to check out more! Lots of great content here!

[megwritesriddles]

Sweeter Than Fiction ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 7 - Queening / Face-sitting. Spencer meets Reader when she starts working at his local library and he's quickly in over his head. After he goes snooping for information on her online, he finds out a dirty little secret, she writes fanfiction.

Tags: Face-sitting, Oral sex (f receiving), Fantasies, Masturbation, Pining, Friends to lovers, Love confessions, Sub!Spencer, Autistic!Spencer (implied ig?), Both Spencer and Reader are NERDS, Set somewhere between seasons 1-3.

Word count: 4.6k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Surprise!! I changed a couple things on my kinktober due to lack of inspiration so here's an unexpected extra Spencer fic!! This is soooo long and the plot is so self-indulgent and ughhh but he eats you out so...!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Spencer had never felt like this before, he hadn’t really had the chance to. Crushes had never really been his thing, having been significantly younger than his peers all throughout his education and being staunchly focused on his career ever since. He had physical attractions here and there, like an occasional reminder that he really was just a fallible human man as much as anyone else, but never any true feelings, nothing he ever wanted to try to pursue in a serious way. It wasn’t simple for him like it was for someone like Morgan, in many senses of the word. Not only was he just not socially skilled enough to pursue relationships, whether casual or otherwise, with any success, he also had a large set of difficulties that he would carry into any relationship. He was quite touch averse, not that he didn’t desperately crave it all the same, which could easily cause issues in any physical relationship. He also had a lot of emotional baggage, from his mother, from his job, from his bullying. He felt a mess emotionally and didn’t see the point in trying to bring in another person to see the mess in all its glory. So he kept to himself. He wasn’t completely without experience, but every experience he’d had was marred with difficulty and complication, none of it ever lasted. He was reasonably content to keep to himself.

Until he met you. He’d been visiting the library nearest his apartment since he moved to D.C. for work. One day he walked in and you were sitting behind the desk, all bright-eyed and excited. The attraction to you had been immediate, he’d found you to be beautiful, he liked the way you dressed, and he liked your sweet voice as you spoke to the customer in front of you. He thought it would end there, that he would silently find you attractive from afar but remained more focused on other things. Cursed to stammer nervously at you whenever you scanned his books, but never say more than necessary. For a long time, that’s all it was, until he was taking out a book that, unbeknownst to him, was a big favourite of yours.

“Oh my goodness, my favourite” you chuckle as you pick up the book from his pile. “This book is amazing, you’ll love it, I’m sure,” you smile brightly as you scan it onto his card. His fingers twitch where he rests them on the edge of the wooden counter. He hadn’t been prepared to talk to you, but it’s nicer than most things that catch him unprepared.

“Y-yeah? Uh… great,” he swallows, drumming his fingers on the counter as you scan the rest of his books, mostly textbooks. 

“Well, if you have any taste that is,” you tease. He laughs back stiffly, his mouth feeling dry. 

“I uh… like to think I do…” he smiles awkwardly.

“You’ll have to tell me what you thought of it,” you hand him the books and his brain blanks for a moment. You’re inviting him to speak to you some other time, to have an actual conversation. He moves jerkily, taking the books from you and packing them into his satchel. You smile kindly and wave to him as he leaves. “See you soon,”

The way his mind is spinning from that simple conversation, he knows that this is something different. He collapses onto a bench outside the library, taking a deep breath. Why is his heart racing? Is this what butterflies feel like? He rubs a hand through his hair, messing it up. When the anxiety fades away, he’s left with a warm feeling in his chest. You want to speak to him again. He flips open his satchel and pulls out the book you’d said was your favourite. It’s classic literature, something he’s been meaning to read for a long time now, but has somehow never gotten around to. He devours the book in mere minutes, thanks to his impressive reading speed. It’s an amazingly compelling tale, with feminist undertones that were ahead of their time and he feels he understands you just a little better by knowing you like this book. He packs it back into his satchel and stands, heading back into the library. The queue to your desk is a few people long, but he joins it anyway, fiddling with the strap of his bag. You don’t make much small talk with the people in front of him in the line, making it feel all the more special that you’d spoken to him. He reaches the front and you smile, but tilt your head in confusion.

“Forget something?”

“The book was great,” he blurts, and you look even more confused.

“What?”

“The book, the one you said was your favourite, it was phenomenal, and surprisingly progressive for its time! Having those sorts of sentiments about a woman's role in a marriage in the 18th century, while seeming slightly archaic by today's standards, must have caused quite a stir at the time, especially coming from a female author. British law in 1764 actually suggested that women–” he doesn’t realise he’s rambling until you cut him off.

“Hold on, you read it already?” you look disbelieving. He smiles sheepishly. “I only lent it to you, what?” you glance at the clock on your desktop screen. “15 minutes ago,”

“I can read very fast,” he mumbles, looking at the scuff on the toe of his shoe for a moment. You giggle.

“Yeah, clearly,” you study his face. He goes quiet, eyes flickering over the small decorations you had scattered across your desk as a means of personalising your space. “You were saying?” you prompted softly. He looked up at you in wonder, no one had ever requested he resumes an info dump, usually, he was told to shut up and looked weird, but you seemed to wait with genuine interest. Perhaps that was the moment that he was well and truly done for. He steps aside so that the person behind him in the line can get their books scanned. He talks at you for almost a whole hour, getting lost in tangent after tangent as you work. You occasionally pipe in to ask a question or make a comment, but you seem happy to listen. Suddenly, your already beautiful appearance becomes more like that of an angel or a goddess to him. He’s never wanted something so bad in his life. He leaves the library after you excuse yourself for your lunch break. Once he gets home, he sits down on his couch, smiling dopily. Then, it slowly dawns on him that he’d just stood there and rattled on about various topics that he had no clue if you even had any interest in. He buries his face in his hands and groans. Has he already ruined things with the first person he’s ever felt anything genuine for? It was bound to happen eventually, but this soon? He goes to bed miserable that night.

Fortunately, his misery had been for nothing. The next time he visits the library, you’re there, all smiles at him like usual. When he comes to return his previous book haul (yes, maybe he hasn’t used the returns box since you started working here, what of it?), you greet him, asking if he has any more facts for you. At first, he thinks you’re mocking him, but the genuine smile you give tells him otherwise. He scrambles through his mind for something interesting to tell you, feeling less than a genius at this moment. He settles to ask what your favourite animal is, then spends the next several minutes telling you all the nichest information about that animal he could think of. This time, you start to talk too, though instead of spewing facts, you’re telling him personal anecdotes, or about new books the library has got in. The next several times he comes in, you end up talking for long periods of time. You never interrupt him when he rambles and in return he allows you to ramble too, not bothered by the slightest if he has to listen to you for hours. He’d do it happily. Things escalate over time, and he realises the two of you have truly become friends. The thought excites him, as he is closer to the object of his affection, but also because he doesn’t have all that many friends outside of his work. With you, he has somebody to talk books with, and that means the world to him. You text daily, though they’re not particularly long conversations, just whenever something comes up that you think might interest the other. You’d originally given him your email address and he’d explained that he didn’t use email. He felt completely silly, but you’d just shrugged it off and given him your number. Despite that, he still keeps the piece of paper onto which you scrawled your email address, tacked up by his seldom used computer. Just in case.

The team at the BAU tease him relentlessly when they find out about the ‘sweet girl from the library’ that he texts everyday. Any hint of him interacting with a woman, they latch onto like rabid wolves, but when the texts from you keep popping up on his phone now and then for weeks, they absolutely won’t leave it alone. They all know he likes you, even if he’s been very careful to not reveal this fact and they tease him about it. He’s just glad you’re never there to hear it, as he might just die from the embarrassment. One week, while staying back from a case due to a mild cold, he sits in Garcia’s office and watches her work while he does his own. She had insisted he come keep her company, and he hadn’t quite dared to tell her no. He’s scribbling down some notes about the latest crime scene photos they’ve been sent through when Garcia receives a call. It’s Morgan, asking her to run a check on an email address that may potentially belong to an unsub, to see what kind of accounts can be linked to it, and if there’s anything untoward and potentially warrant-worthy. He watches over her shoulder as she types the email address into a program, which spits back out several accounts all over the internet. He rolls his chair over, watching curiously.

“How do you do that? Is it for FBI stuff only?” he asks nervously, twirling a pen around in his fingers. Garcia laughs and glances over her shoulder. 

“No, you can find programs to do this in various places online,” she answers, highlighting accounts of potential interest. He nods, still watching over her shoulder, working his lip between his teeth. He tries to convince himself that he’s not going to do it, even as he asks Garcia to write him down one of these websites. She gives him a knowing look but obliges. He keeps telling himself he won’t do it, and that it’s creepy as he gets the train home, but as soon as he’s in his apartment, he heads for his computer and boots it up. He searches up the site that Garcia recommended and tells himself one last time that he isn’t going to do it, before copying your email address into the search field and hitting enter. He waits as the website loads the results, glancing at the door to his apartment as if you’re going to burst in and tell him off. Oh, how he wishes you’d be in his apartment one day, or he at yours. He’s never really wanted to share a space before, but lately, everything he does he imagines what it would be like to have you there. Your arms around him as he cooks, your head on his lap as he watches TV, your body against his in the bed. The website finishes its search and he takes a deep breath, investigating the results. There are various common social media websites, accounts with academic journals (which he appreciates you for), and a couple of other sites he doesn’t recognise. He clicks on the first and furrows his brows. Fanfiction? He supposes that you are a voracious reader like he is, and you mentioned liking to write, but never admitting to what you wrote. This was it then, was it? Your secret writing? It wasn’t that secret, the account was registered in your name, all the works listed being for books and media that you talked about often. You had quite a decent following, at least in his eyes, you were no celebrity, but you had a decent collection of comments and likes.

He starts to read, beginning with your most popular piece. He digests it in moments, his cheeks burning bright. It was pure pornography. Well not purely, there was quite a well-woven storyline behind it, but the focus was undoubtedly the filthy sex scenes. He loosens his tie, feeling hot. He double and triple checks that this is definitely your account, but it clearly is. He’s feeling a little disbelieving, you had just always seemed so innocent to him, but he supposed the two of you had never discussed sex in any way. Spencer would have combusted if it had ever come up. He inhales the rest of your work, getting unreasonably hard in his slacks as he reads. He’s impressed by the skill of your writing, but more than anything, by how delicious your imagination is. It’s like you’ve plucked every fantasy he’s ever allowed himself to have out of his brain and written it up with beautiful flowery language. He doesn’t know half of the characters that you’ve written for, but it doesn’t matter to him, as he imagines the two of you in their places and it works perfectly. Almost like it was written with the two of you in mind. He discards that thought, but not before noticing that you’ve been writing a lot more in the past few months you’ve known each other. He notices how many of your stories centre around a more submissive male, a favourite trope of yours seeming to be having the female partner sit on their face. He imagines you sitting on his face and groans aloud, having to palm his bulge through his slacks. He imagines you’d be like the protagonists in your stories, dominating but kind. He reaches into his slacks to stroke himself, not something he does often, but something that has certainly been more frequent lately. His eyes skim a passage of one of your stories as he tugs at himself, picturing your face between the words. He cums harder than he thinks he ever has because this feels that much closer to the real thing. Once he’s done, he sits catching his breath, staring at the mess on his hand and stomach. He thinks he should feel ashamed, but he’s still aroused, terribly so. He wishes he could show you what you do to him. Before he can stop himself, his aroused brain much less intelligent than he usually is, he makes an account on the site with his name and leaves a comment on your most recent work.

“This was the hottest thing I’ve ever read,” 

He sends it and sits back, wiping the rest of the residue off his stomach. As the haze of arousal lifts, he realises what he’s done. Panicking, he tries to delete the comment, but there’s no option to. He swallows, taking a deep breath. It’ll be okay, he tells himself, if she ever notices, I’ll pretend I was just being sarcastic, teasing her for writing this kind of thing, not genuinely rocked by it. However, his phone is already ringing. It’s you. You never call. You couldn’t have seen the comment already, could you? He seriously debates not answering, even as he’s desperate to hear your voice. Against his better judgment, he picks up the phone.

“Am I speaking to SpencerReid1981?” you chuckle over the phone, your voice teasing as you recite his username. His plans to pretend he was mocking you go out the window the second you talk. He can tell you have one over him by the confident tone in your voice. You’ve had one over him since the day you first met. 

“Y-yeah,” he relents, seeing no way out of this now. What would the chances be of another Spencer Reid born in 1981 having commented on your fanfiction? If he wasn’t so nervous and lingeringly aroused, he could’ve told you. He decides to just be earnest. “You’re a really good writer,”

“How did you even find me on there?” you scoff, laughing gently. He blushes, glad you can’t see it.

“You don’t want to know,” he mumbles. There’s a moment of silence.

“So… you found it hot, huh? What part?” he chokes slightly on his spit, going bright red, you can probably tell, even through the phone.

“Don’t make me say it,” he squeaks. You hum softly on the other end.

“Oh come on… you started all this,” you coax. He’s silent for another beat, you hear his laboured breaths on the phone. 

“The- when- when she uh… sat on his face,” he stutters out. You smirk.

“Really?” you stretch out the last syllable in a playful manner. “You a big giver then?” you say it to tease him, expecting him to sputter and deny it, to beg to change the subject, but he doesn’t.

“I– I would be for you,” you both go silent, you in shock and him in fear of your reaction. You’re dumbfounded that he would ever be so direct with you. It’s been clear to you for a while that he has a thing for you, you’ve caught his lingering looks on your lips or your thighs, the way you’re able to fluster him, but you’d assumed he’d dance around it forever. He’d just essentially admitted, leaving it hanging in the air.

“Come over,” you answer simply, hanging up the phone before he can ask questions or change his mind. Spencer feels completely dumbstruck by your words. Come over? His legs are carrying him to his door before he can think about it. He grabs his bag and his coat and hurries to his car. He’s never driven so fast in his life, he’s only been at your place once, to drop you off after your work, but the way there is memorised like the back of his hand anyway. He worries in the back of his mind that he may get a speeding ticket, but any fine is worth it for you. He’s sprinting up the stairs of your apartment building, his long frame moving nimbler than ever before. He reaches your apartment and knocks at the door.

You answer the door, dressed in some loungewear and he suddenly realises how real this all is. He stands there staring, unable to do anything else, even as you greet him and tell him to come in. You have to take his arm and pull him inside, your hand on his arm lighting him on fire. But he’s shy again, he needs you to take control of this because he has no clue what he’s doing here. He’s never done something like this before, and he's never been so reckless. Did he even lock the door when he left home? You look so beautiful that everything could be stolen from him and he wouldn’t bat a lash. He fidgets, looking anywhere but your eyes. You’re talking to him but he can’t figure out what you’re saying, his brain feeling like mush. He tries his best to pick out some words from the pleasing hum of your voice. You’re saying something about your bedroom. He connects the dots when you start to pull his arm.

“Wha- wait, what are we doing?” he asks, his voice shaking. You freeze, tilting your head.

“What do you mean what are we doing?”

“I mean– uh– I wasn’t really– are we…?” he stammers, his fingers fidgeting. 

“Don’t you want this?” you frown, worrying you’d misread this somehow, even though he’d come rushing over here. He stares at you, eyebrow twitching. You move closer, gently smoothing your hand up his arm. He closes his eyes, losing himself in it.

“Yeah,” he breathes, even though he’s not entirely sure what he’s agreeing to. Whatever it is, if it’s preceded by you touching him like this, it must be good. He follows you like a puppy as you guide him to your bedroom. You place your hands on his chest and he whines, somewhere deep in his throat. The feeling is just so overwhelming in all the best ways. His eyes are wide staring down into yours as your fingers twist, gripping his sweater vest. You lean up, touching your lips to his and he’s whining again. He kisses back, his hands finding your hips, hovering. Your hands are raking through his hair.

“Lie on the bed for me,” you mumble between kisses. He shivers.

“Are you going to sit on my face?” he asks bluntly, needing to know if he’s getting what he’s been thinking about non-stop since earlier this evening, probably even before that. You chuckle at his candour, he’s always been like this and it’s endearing that he’s no different in this situation.

“That’s the idea,” you grin, tilting your head to the side to press closer as you kiss him. He shuffles toward the bed and you push him back to lie down, disconnecting your lips to pull his sweater vest off. He looks up at you pleadingly until you lean down to kiss him again. You straddle his stomach, his hands lie awkwardly at his sides. His breathing is erratic and his fingers fiddle nervously with the material of your sheets. “You okay?” you ask between slow wet kisses.

“Just nervous… I don’t– I can’t disappoint you and I– I don’t really have a lot of experience here,” he admits, his lips pressing needily against yours between words. 

“It’ll be fine, I’ll take care of you,” you promise, he nods against you. Even he’s surprised by how much he trusts you. You pull back, watching as he stares up at you, his eyes practically black. He’s panting heavily. You pull your shirt over your head, feeling his hips buck under you as your breasts come into view. He’d always known every inch of you would be perfect for him, and he was right. He was a genius after all. You move just enough to shed your pyjama pants, taking your underwear with them. You stuff your panties into Spencer’s slack pocket with a wink. He takes a shaky breath. 

“Thank you,” he exhales, eyes drinking you in. You giggle, shuffling up to straddle his chest. He swallows loudly, his mouth watering from the little glimpse he can get, craning his neck. “I’m so… glad we’re doing this,” he whispers. You chuckle again at his behaviour. You stroke his hair gently and his eyes flutter. He usually hated unexpected touch, but everything you did was blissful.

“Ready?” you ask softly. He nods, eyes fluttering back open, determined to get a glimpse of you that he can commit to memory. 

You lift up and shuffle yourself over top of his face. He gasps like he’s just seen God. You, spread open above him, glistening with want. He grips tightly at the sheets, trying to keep himself grounded as the heady smell of you fills his nose. He leans up and places a gentle, experimental kiss on your folds, whining as he does so. You hum softly, leaning forward to brace yourself against the headboard. Puffs of breath wash over your core for a moment, before Spencer leans up, flattening his tongue and laving it against you, up and down, slow and steady. You can tell he’s still finding his way, so you let yourself enjoy the gentle pleasure. You sigh encouragingly as he gets acquainted with the area, exploring it with the tip of his tongue. Never in a million years would he have guessed that you tasted so good. Though he was new at this, he knew anatomy well and knew the spots he’d be looking for. His tongue finds what he assumes to be your clit and he gives it a soft kiss, feeling your hips gently buck. Success. He swirls his tongue carefully around it, not wanting to overwhelm you. Your sighs increase in volume. Spencer takes a chance, lifting his hands and wrapping them around your thighs, pulling you down so you’re more seated on his face. You gasp slightly and he smiles, eagerly returning to his work. His tongue laps at you hungrily, getting into a rhythm. He breathes through his nose, not wanting to stop what he’s doing for even a moment. The taste of you gets stronger and stronger against his tongue as you approach your peak steadily. He groans at the taste. Your hand snakes down into his hair, gripping his long locks to keep yourself anchored. You moan above him, your head lolled forward against the headboard. As he starts to focus his tongue more pointedly on your clit, flicking gently like he read to do in a book once, your hips rut slightly. 

“Suck it,” you pant. He doesn’t register your words for a moment but when he does, he happily complies. His lips close around the little nub and he sucks carefully. Your hand tightens in his hair and you wail in pleasure. You grind yourself down onto his face as he suckles at you gently. You both know what’s coming and while Spencer is thrilled he could get you there, he almost doesn’t want it to end. It’s as if you read his mind. “Don’t stop,” you whine, your eyes squeezed shut, nails digging slightly into his scalp. He pulls you closer to his face, focusing all his efforts. He switches fumblingly between licks and sucks, but it seems to be working nonetheless as you become louder and louder. “Oh! Spencer!” you cry out, your whole body shuddering. He almost comes in his pants at the sound of it. “Ooooh!” you wail, reaching your peak. Your body tenses and then releases, going limp with bliss. His lips stop moving and he stares up at you, waiting for your next move. “Oh, that was amazing Spencer,” you sigh, sluggishly moving down his body until your faces are level. He licks his lips, gazing at you adoringly. You reach up to wipe his wet chin with a small smile.

“I was okay, then?” he chuckles nervously, his hand coming to your waist, a little unsure.

“What do you think, genius?” you tease, kissing his temple. He sighs and flutters his eyes closed. Everything had happened so fast, he wasn’t sure what this meant for the two of you and your friendship, so blinded by lust when he got over here. But you were kissing down his jaw and neck, not indicating that you were kicking him out, and he felt a little better for it. He notices that your lips are straying quite low, over his chest and stomach through his shirt. His eyes flutter open and his breath hitches as he sees you gazing seductively up at him.

“Wha–?” he stammers as you start to unbuckle his belt.

“Returning the favour,” you smile, pressing kisses where his shirt had ridden up. He moans softly, his brain starting to turn to mush once more.

“God, I love you,” he gasps. You both go still for a moment as his words sink in. He can’t believe he just said that, especially right now, with your head hovering over his crotch, even if he desperately means it. He opens his mouth to try and fix this but you beat him to it. You press a kiss just below his belly button.

“I love you too,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

[deadlyashesart]

Alastor's disappearance (Part 1)

Part 1 of a fanfiction I'm writing! There's not enough Rosie angst in this world so I have to do it myself. I've never written fanfiction before, by the way. Don't hurt me if it's bad LOL. I wanted to post this on AO3 but realized I didn't have an AO3 account and they said it might take me till April to get one and I don't wanna wait...

Based on a post I made yesterday.

Part 2

-----

It had been five months since Rosie had last seen her dear friend, Alastor. This wasn’t too out of the ordinary coming from the Radio Demon, but something deep in Rosie’s gut told her something was gravely wrong. Despite this, she had a colony filled with cannibals to feed, and couldn’t waste her time worrying about something as simple as a ‘gut feeling’.

Rosie sat at the front desk of Franklin and Rosie’s Emporium. It was a beautiful day—at least as beautiful as it got in Hell—and the emporium was packed. Rosie was aiding a customer, unaware her business partner was standing right behind her.

Franklin leaned in close. “Rosie, I believe you should step aside with me for a moment,” she whispered.

Rosie paused, turning her head slightly before bringing her attention back to the customer on the other side of the counter. “Mrs. Odette, I’m so sorry, but I must cut our consultation short. I insist you take my card and come back soon!” she said politely, handing the fellow cannibal her business card before waving a hand, gesturing for her to leave.

Rosie followed Franklin away from the crowd, every so often glancing back at the long line that waited for her return. “What is it, my dear? I’m quite busy.”

“It’s about Alastor. He’s gone missing,” Franklin answered abruptly. She spoke quietly as if exchanging top-secret information.

Rosie laughed, waving her hand dismissively. “Oh darling, don’t be so ridiculous!”

“I’m not! Everyone’s talking about it. He hasn’t been seen anywhere, and his radio show hasn’t been updated in weeks! You, of all people, should know how much he loves that show, he wouldn’t miss a day, at least without telling anyone!” Franklin went silent, and a thought crept into her head. “Oh, I wonder if he’s been killed..!”

Rosie’s eyebrows furrowed in worry. After a moment of thought, she spoke, “I’m sure he’s fine, darling.”

“I see… Very well then, I just wanted to let you know. I’m aware you two are very good friends.”

“Yes, and I’m certain he’s quite alright. He’s most likely just taking a break from the radio scene!” Rosie replied, knowing deep down that even she didn’t believe a word she was saying. “Besides, if he was killed, the murderer would’ve made a big show about taking down the mighty Radio Demon, would they not? As far as I know, that hasn’t happened yet!”

Franklin nodded softly. “You’re right, you’re right… If that had happened, we’d have something a lot worse to worry about.”

“Correct. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to attend to.” Rosie curtsied as a gesture of farewell before returning to the front desk of the emporium.

-----

Later that night, Rosie tossed and turned in her bed, unable to sleep. She couldn’t stop worrying about Alastor, just the thought of him brought an ache in her chest. After a while of fighting with her internal dialogue back and forth, she groaned in defeat. She sat up and reached for the small radio that was on her bedside table, a gift from Alastor to show his appreciation towards her. Her hands fiddled with the dials as she turned the frequency to Alastor’s radio show; There was nothing but static.

Rosie sighed, unsure why she thought that would work. He didn’t even broadcast this late at night. She was desperate. All she wanted to hear was her dear friend’s voice, so she could know he was alright, know if he was hurt, know if he was alive. She silently cursed Franklin’s name, frustrated with her putting the thought of Alastor’s death in her mind.

Rosie didn’t get any sleep that night. Or the next night, or the next.

-----

A few weeks passed, and she didn't get better. Franklin walked up to Rosie, handing her a cup of fresh coffee. “You look like hell, darling. Have you been getting any sleep?”

Rosie sat down on the couch, exhausted from her terrible sleep schedule. She took a huge sip of coffee, but that didn’t do much. “I’m fine, Franklin… I just… Would you mind taking the morning shift today?” She brought a hand to her head, feeling slightly lightheaded.

“Okay, I can do that! But you’re obviously not fine, dear. The bags under your eyes have gotten worse, this isn’t like you!”

Rosie’s eyes drifted toward the radio that was placed on the coffee table in front of her, and Franklin immediately connected the dots. “Oh, my dear, is this about Alastor’s disappearance?”

Rosie did not respond. Franklin sighed. She sat down next to her and slowly pulled her into a hug, and she could feel Rosie shiver as a lump caught in her throat.

“I don’t know where he could’ve gone… Maybe he is dead, Franklin,” Rosie mumbled, burying her face in her friend’s shoulder. “I don’t want to cry, I don't want to worry. He’d probably laugh if I did, but… Fuck, I miss him.”

-----

[campingwiththecharmings]

*These weren’t necessarily written and/or posted in November, but that’s when I read them 😊

🔥 - explicit/mature content

Star Wars

🔥Kinktober Day 30 (Cunnilingus) (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

Healing Love (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @dailyreverie

Pumpkin Patch and Everything Nice (Poe Dameron x Reader - Modern AU) - @dailyreverie

Melt (Part of the Your Wish is my Command universe) (Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader) - @dailyreverie

🔥Morning (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

🔥Noon (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

🔥Night (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

🔥Facefucking (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @dameronscopilot

🔥Brat Taming (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @dameronscopilot

Ambrosial (Din Djarin x Black!F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Boob Drunk Poe (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @dameronscopilot

Unremarkable (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @the-little-ewok

blood will have blood (Part of the better safe than sorry universe) (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @eyelessfaces

Moon Knight

Falling Like Rain (Steven Grant x Reader) - @dailyreverie

Sugar Rush (Jake Lockley x Reader) - @dailyreverie

Pumpkin (Marc Spector x Reader) - @dailyreverie

Chain 'Round My Neck (Steven Grant x Reader) - @dailyreverie

🔥Chain Reaction (Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Sweet Tooth (Part of the Dancing With Wolves series) (Werewolf!Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

🔥friendly favors (best friend!Steven Grant x Reader) - @runa-falls

🔥Honey (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @juneknight

🔥Night Desires (Dark!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @lunalockley

🔥he smells like flowers (Steven Grant x Reader) - @runa-falls

Protected (Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @romanarose

Triple Frontier

🔥Kinktober Day 23 (Dirty Talk) (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

Breaking the Rules (Santiago Garcia x Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

Jingle Bells (Santiago Garcia x Reader) - @ivystoryweaver

🔥Kinktober Day 2 (Public) (Frankie Morales x F!Reader) - @youvebeenlivingfictional

🔥Kinktober Day 4 (Sex Pollen) (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @youvebeenlivingfictional

Sucker Punch

🔥Kinktober Day 21 (Hate Sex) (Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

Inside Llewyn Davis

🔥Kinktober Day 24 (Lingerie) (Llewyn Davis x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 26 (Face Sitting) (Llewyn Davis x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

Ex Machina

🔥Perfect Fit (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @ivystoryweaver

🔥Fuckin' Stupid (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥The Beauty of Imperfection (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

🔥The Empty Room (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

The Card Counter

🔥Losing Hand (William Tell x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

🔥(pumpkin) cream pie (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @runa-falls

Daredevil

Daisy (Mechanic!Frank Castle x Sunshine!F!Reader) - @fandxmslxt69

🔥Kinktober Day 1 (Overstimulation + Impact Play) (Frank Castle x F!Reader) - @youvebeenlivingfictional

Thank you to all the wonderful writers for sharing their stories with us 🥰❤️

*For more recs, please feel free to check out my fic rec tag.

**If you’d like to have your fic removed from the list, I completely understand, just let me know

[iolaussharpe-24]

Actors I want to see play vampires in something because I love bloodsuckers

Sebastian Stan - The Covenant is what made me think this initially. Hearing that (at one point at least) he wanted to be Dracula and tried using the fact that he's Romanian to make it happen just makes me smile. There's fanart, fanfiction, manips, and AMVs that help me know that I'm not alone in this line of thinking.

Mads Mikkelsen - Did you know that he's actually in a vampire movie? He's not a vampire from what I can tell, he's a vampire hunter, but that's still something to think about. It's called Nattens engel (or, Angel of the Night) from 1998. Nikolaj Coster-Waldau was also in this movie. Speaking of which....

Nikolaj Coster-Waldau would be a good vampire in something. Tell me I'm wrong. He has the charisma for it.

Adam Driver - Hear me out! Look at him in The Last Duel, The Man Who Killed Don Quixote, and the poster for Hungry Hearts if you don't agree, and then get back to me. He's big, he's sexy, he's got that nice deep purr of a voice, and the Reylos agree that's why there's already art and fanfiction of it! Somebody please give me Adam Driver Dracula I'm begging you!!!

Eva Green - Stop giving me Eva Green witches and give me a bloodsucker! She. Would. Slay. That. Shit.

Cara Delevingne - It's the eyes that do it for me.

Abbey Lee (Kershaw) - I don't want to profile, but look at her. Tall, sexy, scary, she's perfect!

Oscar Isaac - Annihilation convinced me. And the little bit of The Card Counter I saw. And the little bit of Big Gold Brick. And a really good chunk of Moon Knight. Look, just trust me. I know what I'm talking about.

I like my vampires to walk that perfect line between sexy and scary. If you disagree, you're wrong. Simple as that. And here are my favorite examples just to prove my point.

I have more examples. A lot more. But only thirty pictures are allowed per post and I wanted a structure. Sexy/scary vampires are the best vampires. I love the scary ones, I love the sexy ones, but the ones that can be both are perfect.

I love vampires.

[phoenixkaptain]

I totally get what people mean about Splinter of the Mind’s Eye and it’s weirdly offputting tone, but at the same exact time it reads to me as old-timey fanfiction because like- it’s just. Comparing Luke and Leia. Their similarities and differences. They walk differently. They think about things differently. But they also have a strain of sameness to them. A strain of logic or way of thinking that they both follow. It’s so…

Like it’s trying really hard to be like romantic or something, the whole book is, but instead they just act like. Obi-Wan and Anakin.

The best proof I can give of this is two scenes in the first chapter. And I’ll explain the context because honestly the context is fucking hilarious. They both just crash landed on the moon right before the moon they were aiming for. They’re in separate ships. They got separated (they find each other within the same chapter). Luke is with Artoo and Leia is with Threepio (Leia is talking to Threepio in the quote).

“No rock is as soft as water and no water so soft as a swamp, he reflected, trying to cheer himself.”

““Relax. There can’t be anything out there,” she nodded toward the densest growth, “that would find you digestible.””

Just. Luke Optimism crashing into a swamp and being like “well, at least it isn’t a bunch of rocks.” Leia Realism over there comforting Threepio. But also, more proof withing the first chapter:

“There was a loud crashing, off to her right this time. Swinging around in the seat she instinctively fired off a burst through the cracked port and was rewarded with the odor of burnt, wet vegetable matter. The muzzle of the pistol remained focused on the carbonized spot. Hopefully, she’d hit the thing. Fortunately, she hadn’t.

“It’s me!” a voice shouted, sounding more than a little shaky. She’d barely missed him.”

Yes, Leia just shot at Luke. Yes, Leia feels pretty bad because first she made them both crashland into a swamp and second she just tried to murder him.

“Briskly scrambling over the side, she let herself drop to the ground, planted her feet, took two steps in the direction of the distant beacon… and began to sink…”

“Covered from the ribs down in a packing of green-gray mud and pieces of what looked like dried straw, the Princess appeared decidedly unregal. She pushed futilely at the mud, which was drying rapidly to the consistency of thin concrete. She said nothing, and Luke knew anything he might venture would not be terribly well-received.”

They are so cute.

“Once she spotted him peering hard at a dank copse. “Nervous?” It was part question, part challenge.

“You bet I’m nervous,” he shot back. “I’m nervous and frightened and I wish to hell we were on Circarpous right now. Anywhere on Circarpous, instead of trudging through this swamp on foot.”

Turning serious, the Princess told him, “One learns to accept whatsver events life has in store with the best possible spirits.” She stared straight ahead.

“That just what I’m doing,” Luke confessed, “accepting them in the best possible spirits—nervousness and fear.”

“Well, you needn’t look at me as if this is all my fault.”

“Did I imply that? Did I say that?” Luke countered, a touch more tightly than he intended. She glanced sharply at him and he cursed his inability to conceal his feelings. He would have been, he decided, a rotten card-player. Or politician.

“No, but you as much as…” she began hotly.”

Don’t look at me like this situation that I have already admitted to myself is my fault is my fault - Leia

They are. Obi-Wan and Anakin. Wow.

[al-hekima-madara-blog]

What was Izuna's character?

Izuna is most likely one of the most mysterious character in the Narutoverse. He's truly a ghost. Barely seen but so important to Madara's storyline and his eyes the most powerful sight of the entire series. Regardless, all we know about his personality in the canon can be resumed in few sentences : He admired his brother as a child, he was also a fierce warrior from early age, he warned his brother against the Senju, and before his death willingly offered his eyes to Madara in order to protect the Uchihas. It's quite thin for a character development...

In the fandom, fanart, and the many fanfictions included, the general consensus is to represent Izuna as a soft and gentle character always devoted to his brother. Sometimes he's the victim of a hungry-power Madara (but that's really old stories back when no one knew that Obito was cosplaying Madara), often sassy and effeminate. A bit like Haku who was entirely in service of Zabuza. I suppose this idea comes from the adjectives that describes Izuna in the databook :

Considering the lack of information in canon, that headcanon starts to become the more popular. My ambitious is to try to discover what was Kishimoto's intentions for Izuna if he had more time to articulate that character. It's just an hypothesis that I present you, it's in no way a definite answer.

I) Intuition

That's nothing I can prove but it always seems to me strange that Izuna was the quiet one in this sibling's dynamic. If you put yourself in his shoes opened-toes sandals, he is Madara Uchiha's little brother. From birth, his brother was seen with special attention. Madara was the oldest, the heir and on top of that the genius one. Butsuma said that as a child he was able to kill adults. Being the second is virtually being invisible in front of other adults, it would have naturally created jealousy and a need to exist outside of the big brother's shadow. We've seen this same dynamic before between Sasuke and Itachi. The little one feels always left out. The difference there, is that Itachi was mostly absent in Sasuke's life, he was always busy with school and missions. And after the Uchiha's downfall, when Sasuke was just 7 years old, the distance between them wider dreadfully. For the majority of Sasuke's life, Itachi was a distant childhood memory. In contrary, Izuna seems to have stayed close to his brother until his death at 24 years old. They enjoy a childhood together and were so close than even adults they were able to take over the Uchiha clan. Because they spend more than 20 years together, sharing happiness and losses, there is for me an implicit idea that Izuna was balancing Madara and vice versa. In the same way, Hashirama's visionnary ideas are counter-balanced by a down-to-earth Tobirama. The Senju carves his unique personality by constantly creating new jutsus that surprised his opponents while Hashirama was known for being that rare and powerful Mokuton user. Madara being this taciturn person in public, Izuna must have been a bit more outgoing. So if Madara was in private described as kind by Hashirama, maybe Izuna was more rational when dealing with people.

II) Canon + extra materials

in extra materials I mean : databook, official card, official illustrations, video games ect...

Even if I'm team canon-only, sometimes other fillers or goodies can give us a hint of what would have been Izuna. And two things catch my attention :

first, he's always represented as someone very confident, holding a sword ready to slay someone, focused. Actually...he NEVER SMILES. He smirks once in a filler when he thought he was about to overpower Tobirama. It shows more his merciless attitude towards his enemy than any trace of softness. We are very far from the flower boy from fanarts.

secondly his voice...Have you heard his adult voice? It's surprisingly deep comparing to his slender appearance. Again it doesn't sound like a fragile baby doll but more like a commander in chief.

III) Izuna vs Obito

It took me a long time to realise how much Izuna is in the canon constantly in parallel with Obito. It goes back to my old post on "why Madara chose Obito". Months later, I think the answer is more obvious that what I thought back then.

Izuna simply might have had a very similar personality than Obito. Or should I say, Madara saw in Obito, not only his potential strength but also a clear resemblance in character to his dear brother. At the Kannabi's bridge, He observed and found Obito dying after he saved Kakashi, Rin and gave his right eye to Kakashi. There is a strong parallel to Izuna's life who also gave his eyes willingly to Madara when he was dying. In both case, there is a deep devotion for the well being of their friends/clansmen.

Even if Madara consciously chose to cut bonds with the world, unconsciously he still yearned for companionship. It's obvious by the fact he couldn't stop talking about his friend Hashirama, and in the similar way he looked for his "right hand" in Obito. Yes, in a deranged and manipulative way but even during the war, he never doubted Obito's intentions until it was obvious that he betrayed him.

So not only Obito was a replacement for Izuna as a brother in arm, but the databook gives them the same birthday the 10th of february, obviously the same zodiac sign Aquarius and most importantly the same blood type.

IV) Blood type

Izuna and Obito are said to be the same blood type O. Madara also is type O. As a westerner I've never paid attention to this information (I don't even know my own blood type to be honest!😅) until I've learned recently that Japaneses have got a whole culture associating blood type with certain personality traits. They take this more seriously that astrology to the point there is even campaigns to prevent discrimination towards rare types. Since I don't know much about this theory, let me quote some other sources.

So what is type O?

source : https://www.tofugu.com/japan/japanese-blood-type/

This source goes deeper into type O in Naruto.

source : https://aminoapps.com/c/naruto/page/blog/blood-types-personality-theory-in-naruto/lrqm_VpiQuDpPEDjoMXgoMVnn0E3eeXmpw

I don't really know how to interpret the type O because the adjectives seems very larges and vagues to me. but it seems that leadership trait, hard working, outgoing, protective, direct, confident are the trait that comes the most from the various sources I've read. In Naruto, the others type O are : Kakashi, Asuma, Sakura, Temari, Raikage, Neji.

An other interesting aspect, is relationship between each types. Look closely at OxO relationship.

Let's go back now to compare now Izuna and Obito's databook pages with this new information in mind.

Notice again how Izuna is systematically showed in action, fighting someone or ready to attack. That's not really a moment where he looks relaxed with an easy-going attitude.

Izuna's favourite hobby was training with his brother Madara. Because of their closeness as brothers they developed an healthy competition. A good OxO relationship.

In the opposite, considering the circumstance of their meeting, Obito never truly trusted Madara and even when he agreed on the Tsukuyomi plan, he decided early on that he'll do it his own way and almost overtook Madara's role as the "saviour". It shows a negative OxO relationship.

In this perceptive, it seems to me that Izuna and Obito share in common of being extremely strong-willed and competitive. They have an inflexible determination that never sways. After being deadly wounded, Izuna still found the strength to warn Madara about the Senjus and again in his deadbed he made Madara promise to watch over the Uchiha clan. His vision (even in the literal way) was strong enough to motivate Madara long after his death. This devoted, balanced personality must be read as a confident desire to protect his people, the Uchiha clan, to the point of self-sacrifice.

Obito demonstrated two times an incredible will. Once as a child when he defended Kakashi's father and swore to destroy an unfair shinobi system, and a second time when he battled against the juubi. He knew he wasn't physically strong enough neither to hold the rinnegan nor contain juubi inside him but by cheer willpower he forced his destiny.

To conclude my guess is that Kishimoto intended Izuna as a warlord, a man of action, just like Madara, with a strong sense of duty and sacrifice for his clan. And the Senju represented to him the epitome of threat for the Uchiha's peace. Izuna pictured peace and harmony related to his clan not the whole world like his brother did (and maybe that's why he had to make him promise to protect the Uchihas first!?). He was probably more extravert, agreeable and also more distant emotionally than Madara. His interaction with his big brother must have been a funniest version to what we've seen with Obito. Just imagining those two uchiha big egos together, they were probably insufferable for their opponents 😂. If you read the manga again it's as if Madara is expecting a back-and-forth banter with Obito...just like Izuna would have done with him in the middle of a battles.😢

That's all I wanted to share on my hypothesis, maybe in future Kishimoto will give us something about Izuna's past and this post will age badly but let me know what you think of this theory?

[boredzillenial]

Bad Bet

William beats you in a poker tournament, but you just can’t accept defeat, not yet…

Themes: DEAD DOVE - DNE f!reader, Dark!William, stealing, kidnapping, bit of violence (reader knocked unconscious, a headbutt), bondage, teasing/degradation, a spank, use of honorifics (good girl, attagirl), heavy eye contact, choking, nipple play, non-con, pinv, ruined orgasm

Wordcount: 2.6K

A.N: Huge thanks to @lunar-ghoulie @lunar-ghoulie4art ! I loved working together with the artwork and the fic! The Circle of Smut continues 😘

No, no this couldn’t be happening. How were you losing! You’d studied every player, every little tick and tell, and now you were losing to this guy?

You glared ahead at the man taking your money hand over fist. His slicked back salt and pepper hair shone like silver in the dim lighting of the casino. Piles of poker chips sat in-front of him and mocked you with every card dealt. Those had been yours… That was you’re fucking money stacked in-front of him…

All that money you’d so confidently walked into the casino with, all those chips - were gone. That son-of-a-bitch had taken of it… You stood slowly as you glared across the table, and this motherfucker had the nerve to give you a flat smile and a dismissive nod.

That was it, the final thing to snap your resolve. There’s no way he was keeping your money… You stalked to the edges of the tournament and watched it finish out from the shadows. This guy didn’t even win the damn tournament. He’d stopped during a hot streak and bowed out. You heard his name through quiet whispers of on-lookers next to you, William Tell.

You continued to lurk just out of sight as he sat at the bar. Adjusted from machine to machine to keep line of sight without drawing attention. He sipped on his whiskey like he was purposefully trying to waste the night away. Finally after what felt like an eternity he cashed out. The cashier piled stacks and stacks of your money onto the counter. He stuffed it unceremoniously into his jacket, flicked his sunglasses on and strolled out into the frigid air.

You followed several lengths behind and squinted in the abnormally bright winter sun as you stepped outside. After a few moments blinking away the sudden adjustment your heart nearly stopped as William passed you in his silver sedan. Quickly you found your own car and trailed behind him, keeping a few lengths back until he pulled into a shitty motel. Bingo… The wheels in your head churned as you passed by and found a decent spot to U-turn. Not only were you gonna get your money back, you were gonna take a little extra for your bruised ego.

~~~~~~~

Hours passed slowly as you sat at the far end of the parking lot, watching his shadow move back and forth across the drawn curtains of his room. Finally, a crack of light crept across the lot as he came out into the bitter night. Your leg bounced in anticipation as he got in his car and drove off. You had to be smart about this, wait a few minutes to ensure he wouldn’t double back in case he forgot something, then get in.

A couple minutes felt like a lifetime and you just couldn’t wait any longer. Streaking across the lot like a shadow you jimmied the already busted looking lock on the door and made your way inside. What you saw froze you in your tracks.

All of the furniture in the room, including the bedside lamp, has been meticulously wrapped in white sheets and tied with twine. “Fucking psycho.” You muttered under your breath as you made your way inside. Your eyes flickered to the movie playing on a beaten down dresser. Some old western with a few too many gunslingers, the noise louder than you’d like for your already fried nerves. You looked around for bags, a suitcase, something - but the room appeared to be bare. Then your eyes connected with the closet, there had to be a safe…

Unease made your movements uncoordinated as you peered inside, unsure of what exactly you’d find. A soft sigh left your lips as your eyes lowered and settled on a small dingy hotel safe. “Jackpot.” You muttered with a smirk. Gunfire went off in the background and jolted you forward into the small closet. You shook off your nerves and settled back into your assessment of the safe.

It was a tiny black thing that looked like it’d been beaten within an inch of destruction. However, while the outside was dented the lock itself held steady against your prying fingers. You shook it out of sheer frustration and realized it wasn’t actually secured to anything. “Fuck it.” You muttered as you lifted the small safe up out of the closet and set it onto the bedside table. If you couldn’t crack it here, better to take it home.

The tension in your chest settled now that you had your prize. With no movement outside you grew bolder and decided to snoop. You found his suitcase and duffle bag tucked behind the sheet covered armchair in the corner. The suitcase was light when you pulled it out and set it atop the chair, the only things left inside was another white sheet and a spool of twine.

The dufflebag however, was much heavier. You lifted the brown leather bag with a huff as you set it beside the suitcase and opened it. Confusion knitted your brow at what you initially saw: pliers, a hammer, medical shears, gloves, and a black sack. Your heart thundered in your chest at the uses you imagined for all this. Then, be it bravery or stupidity, you dug around past the layer of torture tools till you hit something different, cash. Stacks and stacks tucked neatly underneath the grizzly tools.

You rummaged around to see just how many layers there were when another round of gunshots rang out from the tv. Unbeknownst to you they covered the sound of the door as it swung open. It was too late when you heard the rustle of clothing behind you a second before blinding pain exploded in the back of your skull and sent your world into darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first moments of regained consciousness were hazy. Sensations came first, pain pounded in the back of your head, a soft fabric loosely around your head, rope bit into your ankles. You went to sit up until the similar bite of rope around your wrists stopped you.

“Don’t bother.” An apathetic voice muttered behind you.

You twisted slowly, the pang in your head sent your vision blurring despite the only thing you could see was darkness. A vague shadow passed infront of you. “Will-iam?” You groaned.

“Who else, you did break into my room.” His footsteps drew nearer and your heart nearly lept from your chest. “It was cute you know, watching you as you lost all that money.” You watched the shadow on the other side of the fabric. “I thought I would enjoy just watching you. Enjoy watching your nose wrinkle and that little snarl on your lips. That look when you left the table.”

One rough tug and the bag was pulled from your head. William slowly came into focus as he leaned forward, his dark eyes peered into your own. You held his gaze as you tested your bonds behind your back. “What wasn’t as cute, but far more interesting, was catching you following me here. I thought you’d just tail me for a bit then peel off, but you didn’t -”

You took the moment of him monologuing and lurched forward. Your forehead connected with the bridge of his nose. He stumbled backward and caught himself, holding his face as he stood. Tension drew his shoulders up as he turned his back to you and walked over to the dresser. The sound of metal on wood felt like it scraped across your nerves.

He turned on his heels, a slow red trail flowed down over his lip. A tight grin revealed the tint of red spread across his teeth. You shivered at the sight of him as he adjusted those blue gloves over his fingers and squinted for a moment. He assessed you, curled and tied on the bed, seemingly made some decision and turned to grab the medical shears off the dresser.

As he dragged his gloved fingers across his lips it left a crimson streak across them. William strode over slowly, grabbed hold of your ankles and twisted till you laid on your back. Your bound hands dug uncomfortably into your spine. You went to kick but the combination of his eyes boring into yours, his grip tightening, and the snarl on his lips made you still.

“Hours later, after you should’ve lost your nerve and left, there you were in your car, waiting.” He slotted the shears at the cuff of your pants and cut slowly. “You’re not nearly as inconspicuous as you think you are gorgeous.” His breath left him in a slow sigh as your bare leg came into view. His tongue dragged across his upper lip to clean the scarlet stain.

“So I gave you a hand. Busted the lock on the door just in case your burglary skills matched your ability to blend in.” His cuts were steady till they hit the band of your underwear. His smirk shifted to another quick snarl as he pressed the scissors against your skin, caught the edge of your panties and in one swift motion your right leg was free from ankle to hip.

“When I pulled in and saw your shadow across the blinds I thought I was imagining it. You really had the guts to try to steal from me.” Panic set in as he moved the shears to your left pant leg and began to cut. You wiggled despite the vice-grip he had on your ankles, which earned you a low growl. His hand shifted to a bruising grip on your hip to steady you. With another firm cut your left leg was freed and a wicked grin spread across his face.

In one swift motion he yanked your tattered pants, the chill from the stale hotel AC ghosted across your exposed pussy. “You sick son of a bitch!” You spat.

His grin twisted your belly as he gripped your bound ankles and lifted them straight up. “I like guts. In fact, that’s how I know you’ll be perfect for what I have in mind if you can manage to behave.”

“Let me go!” You arched and twisted till a harsh slap cracked across your ass.

“Enough!” He pressed forward till your knees touched your chest. Your breathing came in short gasps as he continued. “I need you to do as your told. I promise you, you don’t wanna know what’ll happen if you don’t.” Your gaze flickered to the brown leather bag sitting open on the armchair. The image of what it contained stilled your movements. “Ahh good girl, you remember what you saw in there?”

Your eyes grow wide as you nodded. You looked back as him leaned over your legs, his groin pressed against your bare core. “You’re mine now. Understood?” You nodded again.

“Attagirl, I like a quick learner.” His voice was low as he quickly undid his belt and zipper. His length came free and pressed against your soft folds. “Been needing someone to bury my cock in.” He rolled his hips slowly, gathered slickness along his girth before the fat tip pressed into you.

The stretch of him stole the last bit of air you had. He smirked at your shallow breathes but relented, leaned back a bit and kept your ankles on his shoulder. You filled your lungs greedily before a snap of his hips punched the air from you. “I’m taking you on the road with me. If you’re good, I’ll even teach you how to play poker.”

“Fuck yo-uuu.” He sunk further twisting your curse into a groan.

“Gladly.” He leaned back, grabbing the shears and raised a brow. “Behave.” In a quick cut your legs fell to either side of his hips.

A thought flickered in your mind, if you could just wrap your legs around him and squeeze as hard as you could you might be able to -

William leaned forward and wrapped his hand around your throat. “I see those wheels turning. Whatever it is your thinking, don’t.” His hips snapped forward again and set a steady pace as you grew lightheaded. You were so preoccupied with the buzzing in your head that you hadn’t noticed his other hand. Dexterous latex covered fingers met your clit and rubbed firm circles over it.

The pressure, the angle, the stretch of him. It was too much. You felt your eyes nearly cross as you looked up at him. Mouth agape in a silent plea as he shoved you closer and closer to climax with every buck. “See? See what happens when you behave?” He breathed between thrusts.

Fuck him for doing this to you, fuck him for making you feel so damn good. Fuck him for - With a final press he sent you over the edge, your head thrown back and a choked groan escaped your throat as he let it go. “Good girl,” He cooed. “Give in.”

Your muscles melted as you came down from your high, only vaguely aware of him shifting positions. He lifted your legs over his shoulders and leaned in. “Look at me baby, eyes on me.” His gravely tone brought you back to the moment. You looked up at him. His silver hair fell forward and a tinge of red remained on his upper lip. You groaned as he lean further still, deliciously deep in your channel. “That’s right, look at me as you take it. Take all of it.” He buried himself as deep as he could. The stretch almost too much as you quivered around him.

“F-fuck.” You whimpered as he began a slow, deep rhythm. The part of you that wanted to protest became a soft, distant whisper somewhere in the back of your mind. His hands snaked up to your collar and ripped the fabric till your breasts fell free.

“Perfect.” He whispered as his gloved fingers gripped your breasts. You arched into his touch as the latex grazed against your hardened nipples. Eyes squeezed shut as you bit your lip. A hard twist made you gasp and jolt forward to give him an angry glare. “Eyes. on. me.” He growled as his thrusts grew harsher.

Frustration and pleasure roiled inside you as his pace quickened. You held his gaze with as hard of an expression as you could muster until his touch suddenly grew gentle on your sensitive peaks. Your brows tilted up as you bit your lip to stop the whimper he tried to draw from you. “Let me hear it.” He growled.

You shook your head as your bite teetered on painful. His cock hit that spot deep within you as he churned, his pelvis grinding against your clit. Your breath quickened despite your attempt to fight off the pleasure he brought. “Last chance, let me hear you.”

A metallic tang spread across your tongue as you bit down harder and shook your head. “Fine.” His pace quickened, sent you right to the edge before pulling completely out. Your heels hit the bed as you whimpered and groaned. Channel clenched around nothing, orgasm completely ruined. Tears stung your eyes as you glared at him.

“Should’ve listened.” He smirked as his cock twitched, covered in slickness. Your gaze remained on his length. “You gonna listen this time?” He mocked as he took off his tie. He waited for your response with a confident smirk and slowly took off his dress shirt. Your gaze flickered to his muscular torso as it came into view then back down to erection still hard and throbbing.

You swallowed the metallic taste in your mouth along with your pride, and gave a curt nod. That one minute motion sealed that evening and many more to come. Or in your case, not to cum.

————————

Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @ominoose @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @romana-after-dark

[chamuk0]

🌻Punkflower flowershop au🎸

• So I write this instead of doing my homework, whatever.

This is my first time writing fanfiction (or whatever this is) on here.

Also, english ist not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are some mistakes, I'll be gratefull if you let me know them.

I think that's all, hope you like it

🌻🌻🌻🎸🎸🎸🌻🌻🌻

So. Basically, Gwen already knows that Miles is gay (or bi, you say) and she is like, totally supportive with him and everything, they're besties.

The thing is Miles likes sunflowers, like, a lot. And he likes to have them on his room window, but as he has no one to give them to him, Gwen suggests they should go buy some at the new flowershop that has just opened omg.

---

Then there's this super cool guy working at said flowershop, all bored, skipping through songs on his walkman, resting against the counter when he hears the shop door bell sound. He lift his gaze and his eyes meet two costumers, looking too much at the little guy with baggy clothes and headphones around his neck. He loocked cool and cute. Hobie was too busy staring at him that forgot he was supposed to help the costumer.

Then he acts and walks closer to them, asking if they need some help. Their eyes meet and Miles could feel his face getting hot, he wasn't talking. How cute.

A grin threatened to appear on Hobie's face.

Then Gwen came to Mile's rescue "Yeah, he was looking for sunflowers"

Hobie looked at Gwen then, breacking the eye contact and Miles feel his feet hit the ground again.

---

Once their bouquet is almost done, Hobie is putting a "to: from:" card on it and asks "who's this for?" And before Miles could ask him to not put that, Gwen answers "Miles"

Hobie looks down again and writes the name. They pay and head out.

-------------------

Almost two weeks had happened and neither of the two boys could get the other out of their minds.

So miles decides to buy sunflowers again.

He puts on his bright red Jordans on and leaves without forgetting to take his headphones and jacket. He's walking down the street, his hands are all sweaty and he could feel his heart beat faster and faster as he got closer to the flower shop.

He opened the door and his gaze went to the counter, expecting to see someone specific, someone who seemed not to be there. He turned on his heel, about to leave, what was he doing? Why he even came here? What was he-

his thoughts were interrupted by a pair of hands on his shoulders.

"you leaving already, without any bouquet? not the best customer"

And then his face was hot again, and there were also some butterflies in his stomach. Miles tried his best to look up and meet Hobie eyes again, and despite his stutter he managed to get the flowers he wanted.

The bouquet was almost ready, Hobie is again putting the label, then, trying to play it cool and not look too interested, asks "to Miles again?"

And Miles loves the way his name sounds when he's saying it. He just nods and watches Hobie as he writes it. Then he pays and he hands him his bouquet.

"so" Hobie finally decides to ask "is he your... boyfriend?"

"Are you saying you think I'm gay?" he asks with an incredulous smile, God his smile.

"Am saying I hope you're gay. And single" Now there's a grin on his face.

Their hearts are beating faster, their eyes locked to each other's.

"That's my name, y'know" Miles finally says with a wide smile and Hobie smiles too.

[kirsteng42]

All I can say is wow!!! I have read a couple of titles off her and I’m definitely going to be reading a lot more!!!!

Join my taglist!

TUMBLR FUCKED UP MY LINKS!!!! Everything is getting reconstructed and its a pain. If something interests you that the link doesnt work, try looking for it on my blog, but if you cant find it, send me and ask and ill try to link you! Anything in bold should be linked right, but if its not, let me know!!

Rules and boundaries

Moon Knight

Triple Frontier

The Last of Us

Star Wars

Javier Peña

If You Wanna Be Wild ft. Santiago Garcia: Javi and his new partner, a young Santiago Garcia straight out the military, begin to take down Lorea with the help of Candy, a charming and beautiful prostitute.

Miguel O'Hara

Take It All: Miguel throat fucks you. That's it.

Couch Sex: Rough couch sex and communication

Surrender: Miguel surrenders to you

The Card Counter

Washed In Black: William Tell meets a much younger cocktail waitress and although he initially rebuffs her advances, he soon finds himself inviting her along on his travels. Just for the summer... right?

Inside Llewyn Davis

Shelter from the Storm: Llewyn meets her and she shows him kindness. He finds a way to pay her back. ♥️🌶

1000 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION!!!!

[gosmigenergy]

KINKTOBER 2024 / Day Three

DRINKING GAME / BREATH PLAY / FISTING (@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction)

Starring: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x F!Reader

Summary: When you tell Jack you’ve never had whiskey before, even a shot of your employer Statesman, he comes up with a way for you to try it.

Rating: Fluff

Warnings: Alcohol/drinking, language, crying, pet names, no use of Y/N, Jack being a big old softie.

Word Count: 3k

Notes: This story takes place in an AU where Statesman is just a legitimate distillery, the main characters all still work there but would have normal, none spy positions. I have no idea of these, please don’t ask me!

“What d’you mean you’ve never tried Statesman?!”

That’s how it started, a casual conversation with the infamous Whiskey and now, you found him banging on the door of your cottage in the distillery’s grounds.

You opened the door and welcomed him in.

“I already told you, I don’t drink whiskey.”

“Well, you’ve clearly never tried the beautiful balance of bold flavour in our finest proof.”

“I run the socials, Jack, you don’t need to run the copy by me.”

He was right in what he was saying, unlike the other drinks on the market, the company’s signature blend was the best.

The only whiskey you’d had shared his name and the only reason you had it then was because it was a work’s party. That night ended with one last free shot from the business’s tab and after you knocked it back, you instantly turned to the person next to you and insisted they put you in a cab.

The next day was not pretty.

“Champ doesn’t drink Statesman either.”

“True,” Jack put a finger up before pointing it at you. “But he’s a sommelier, he never swallows.”

You snort as your mind immediately goes to the naughtiest thought possible. Also, it’s sweet how Jack has so much enthusiasm behind a comment you’re pretty sure is wrong.

You scrunch your nose, “I don’t think that’s right?”

“And you know what I thinks not right?”

He picks up the bottle he’d placed on the kitchen counter, waving it gently as he swaggered towards you like any cowboy would. There was a glint in his eye and a quirk hidden under his moustache. He stood close enough for you to get a whiff of his tobacco scented aftershave, the wood undertones from a day traipsing through distillery floors.

You swallow, eyes flits from the bottle to his face.

“Wanna play a game?”

Your teeth draw in your bottom lip.

Somewhere in your cupboards, you managed to find shot glasses tucked in the furthest depths. In the distance, he took a peek, catching how your shorts rode up a little as you leaned in and behind the small wooden door.

Pleased with your hidden treasure, you wander back to Jack who’d laid out cushions on the floor opposite sides of your coffee table. He complains about a bad back which is why he claimed the side against the couch to prop himself up.

“What are we playing? I’ve got cards in the drawer.”

He waves you off.

“Hell no! Haven’t gambled in years, no, this is a game of Never Have I Ever.”

You scoff, “A college game?”

Not that you’d ever played it when you were in college, you never had the balls.

“You scared, sugar?”

Straightening your back, you fold your arms and try to give your best poker face however hard you tried, Jack knows a bluff when he sees one.

“Look, I’ll start,” he says, plucking a shot glass from you. “Never have I ever…”

He pours himself a shot, already determining that he’ll drink to this one.

“Had a Statesman whiskey.”

You smile, sitting down and tucking your legs in to get comfy. Taking the bottle, you poured each of you a shot of the liquid nectar.

“Never have I ever… dressed as a cowboy.”

He grunts, “You’re missing out.”

He took his shot and you focused on how his throat rippled as he swallowed, your heart skipping a beat when he looked right at you.

Snatching the bottle away, he planned his next move. You’ve clearly decided to play this the correct way to avoid drinking, he had to think of his question carefully. He kept his eye on you, pouring the perfect measure without spilling a drop, you tipped your head slightly in a silent admiration.

In the spirit of the season, he thought of something.

“Never have I ever… dressed in a slutty costume.”

Your eyes narrowed, finger nails clicking on the glass before you sighed and threw the whiskey down your neck.

It was nice at first, there was a buttery almost sweet flavour before you mouth was completely dominated by intense spice and sharp citrus. Then came the burn, the inside of your throat protesting as you had to cough.

“You alright, pretty lady?”

God, how that made things worse.

“I’m fine,” you squeaked as you struggled on your words.

Jack allowed you to catch your breath before he leaned back, nonchalantly throwing an arm across the couch.

“So…”

You blink at him, tears in your eyes, as his smile broadens into a cheeky grin. This wasn’t going to be about what you thought of Statesman.

“What d’ya dress up as?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Oh, he would. Based on your previous ‘Never Have I Ever’, cowboy was obviously out and there was something in your overall personality that makes him believe it wouldn’t be a cheerleader. Some girls go for princesses, angels and devils, bunny girls except none of them seem very you, no, you weren’t like the other girls.

“Never ha—“

“Hey, it’s my turn!”

“Fine,” he huffs.

You clear your throat, “Never have I ever… not not been hit on by Tequila.”

Jack doesn’t drink, his one eyebrow arching.

“You’re not gonna drink?”

“Tequila hits on everyone.”

“Fuck,” you smack your hands on the table, “are you serious?”

“Christmas party, twenty-eighteen.”

“Remind me to ask you about that one.”

He hummed, the words you just said barely sinking in, all he could think about was his next turn.

“Never have I ever… dressed as a nurse.”

A smug smile grew on your face and you propped your elbows on the table, shaking your head as you rested your chin in your palms. His brown eyes changed, he looked like a wounded puppy, how could he have got it wrong?

“I know you’re not gonna stop until you get it so I might as well tell you.”

He straightened up, leaning towards the table in curiosity.

“I dressed as,” you paused. 

The shot of Statesman in your hand was more tempting now you were about to confess. Before applying for the job, you created new accounts online because you had no idea whether they’d search for you or not. Everything from your high school and college years still existed, under a pseudonym and attached to other email accounts.

Saying that, nothing would take that long for Ginger to hack.

You take a shot willingly.

“A sailor scout.”

His bottom lip fell slightly, his brows knotting further.

“Like a girl scout?”

You giggle, “No, from Sailor Moon, the anime.”

“You gonna have to give me some context.”

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you find a picture and turn the screen to him. He brings it closer, fingers flexing to zoom in on the image. As he continued to stare, he realised that maybe he really didn’t know that much about you.

“Which one were you?”

“Embarrassingly, I was the Sailor Moon, the one with the buns.”

“And the knee high boots?”

You break eye contact, feeling the temperature rise in your cheeks as you manage to make the smallest noise of agreement.

It’s not to say that Jack couldn’t imagine you in an incalculable amount of outfits but now, he was not going to be able to imagine you any other way. He didn’t even need to see a photo of you in it, he could happily make up his own.

The bow would barely cover your boobs, the white in the outfit would be mesh, the pleated skirt wouldn’t be able to contain your ass and those bright red boots would have to be platform.You could forget about the hair, he didn’t want it to be one hundred percent accurate, he just wanted you in it for him.

Yet he couldn’t tell you that.

“You still got it?”

A cushion hit him square in the face.

“I apologise.”

He holds his hands up though he can’t help noticing how tense your frame has become, how you can’t make eye contact and how your clearly starting to sweat. Taking your glass, he filled it back up again before sliding it over, taking his own in his other hand.

He jutted to you.

“Your turn.”

Time passed and the pair of you had possibly gotten through three quarters of a bottle, you couldn’t be sure. Your head was fuzzy, eyes struggling to stay in one place and the man opposite seemed as sober as when he walked in. Jack wasn’t sober, he knew he wasn’t, he had entered the giggling stage because grown men can no matter how much they deny it.

You had both learnt something new about the other.

If it wasn’t for his childhood sweetheart, he would have joined a travelling rodeo, to which you questioned if they were real. It wasn’t the first time you’d applied to join Statesman, you even tried applying for their distant cousin company Kingsman then you freaked out when they discussed you moving to England.

There were other stupid drunken conversations about remembering your first kisses, what actually was your tipple of choice and how you couldn’t ride a horse though he insisted he could teach you.

“I dunno,” your words come from gritted teeth.

“Who else is gonna teach you? Tequila?”

He knows Tequila won’t teach you right, the boy pretends to be a cowboy.

You laugh from deep in your belly, “Fuck no!”

He’s happy you’re in agreement.

“You’re probably the better teacher.”

“What makes you say that?”

Jack leaned back and stretched his broad shoulders, the buttons on his chest straining. Your tongue flicks over your bottom lip and suddenly, you realise you’re leering, you shake it off quite literally.

“You don’t remember the first day we met?”

He juts his chin, “It’s a little hazy.”

It’s not, he remembers it clear as day.

“I was so fucking terrified, I’d just watched the city disappear behind me and the car pulled into the estate miles away from the distillery. I stupidly wore heels to make a good first impression and the moment I stepped out, I regretted it…”

He was too polite to say anything back then.

“They told me Champ was in a meeting and that he would send one of his men to come meet me. I thought he was already planning on getting rid of me, like a hitman was gonna show, but then I heard the clomping of horse shoes in the distance and in comes this cowboy riding the biggest stallion…”

His lopsided grin brought the creases to the corner of his eyes.

“I heard there were stables on site, ready for when Statesman expanded but I didn’t believe it till then. They stopped right in front of me and I craned my neck up to look at them, the light just catching on the brim of their hat. In a Southern drawl, they asked me why such a pretty lady had decided to come all the way out here…”

He remembers how you laughed, how shyly you looked away from him when he asked.

“Before saying ‘The folks round here call me Whiskey but you can call me Jack’.”

And you always did.

“Christ, I sound like a tool,” he shakes his head.

“I dunno,” you shrug, “you left quite the impression on me.”

His eyebrows raised, “Really?”

The alcohol in your system aids a new found confidence.

“I’m surrounded by desk jockeys all day, it’s quite refreshing when you finally waltz into the office and whisk me away.”

Spending time with Jack was always like a daydream from a ridiculous smutty novel your grandma used to read, it wouldn’t surprise you if one day he sauntered in, scooped you from your ergonomic chair and take you even further from civilisation.

A girl can dream.

“I don’t do that.”

He tried to put you off his scent.

You laugh, “Yes, you do.”

Jack was beginning to sweat under his checked shirt collar, should I tell her? When he broke eye contact, you thought you were losing him and in your intoxicated mind, you couldn’t let that happen.

“Not that I mind, I quite like it when you do,” your voice dropped a few decibels, a wave of anxiety washing over you. “Actually, I love it when you do, in a way that makes me wish I’d read the fine print because I don’t know what the rule is about employees dating.”

He doesn’t know how to respond, his haziness making it difficult to figure out whether that was a confession. His lack of response sinks to the bottom of your stomach, it churns.

Your hands flex, your nervous system beginning to set into fight or flight mode as you bring yourself up from the floor.

“I’m sorry.”

The blood rushed to your head as you stand up straight and you sway before managing to get one foot in front of the other.

“Wait.”

A hand came to your wrist, holding you steady and you glance down to see him on his knees. Putting a free hand on the coffee table, he hauled himself up with a wobble.

“Are you sayin’ you like me?”

His fingertips graze over your pulse, it was picking up speed along with the rise and fall of your chest.

You don’t look at him when you deliver a timid nod.

He takes a step closer, the temperature rising between you. His thumb comes to the bottom of your chin, the rest of his hand picking up your jaw so you meet face to face. It pulls on his heartstrings to see your eyes turn glossy, tears ready to start falling.

You were waiting for the inevitable rejection.

“Please, sugar, I’d hate to see you cry.”

You immediately cover your face, of course his comment would make you cry.

He thought of the best way to fix this. Letting go of your wrist, he curled an arm across your lower back, pushing you into his frame. Squeezing his other arm from between your two bodies, he placed a warm palm to your back and rubbed soothingly.

“Now I feel like an idiot, I thought it was pretty damn obvious I liked you.”

Going back, it is fucking obvious.

From the moment you got here, Jack cured your home sickness, protected you from the likes of Tequila and had your back when decisions were made. There were so many times where the pair of you had snuck into the kitchen after hours and had the chef skim off a bowl of chilli for you to share.

You’d danced until 1am around the 4th of July bonfire and he covered your sick in sawdust when you bolted into the stables during the tour the next day. Hell, he even arrived at your door on Christmas Eve the first holiday you were here to see if you wanted company.

You splutter a mixture of a laugh and cry as everything became clearer.

“No, it’s my fault.”

You always missed the signs.

He holds you for as long as you need, until you wriggle, your arms wrapping around his frame. With your face still buried in his chest, you angle your head so you can look up at him and his warm, chocolate coloured eyes gaze down on you.

The heat rises in your chest and face.

“Will you stay?”

He only just hears your muffled query.

“Course I will.”

Looking round, the view of the mess you’d made was more apparent. There was circles from the glasses, spills here and there where you’d enthusiastically poured yourself another. He doesn’t even remember when the snacks came out, put they were spewed across the table, scraps on the cushions.

He tries to peel himself away from you but your fingers twist in the fabric of his shirt.

His hands glide over your arms leading themselves to yours and as they enveloped them, the pair of your fingers intertwined. He prised you from him before bringing your hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to both sets of knuckles.

“You head up to bed, I’ll clear this up.”

The brightness in your smile returns, “How gentlemanly of you.”

“Well, manner maketh man.” 

He puffs out his chest as you giggle.

“Still can’t believe you almost chose merry old England over us.”

“Lucky for you, I much prefer here.”

You lift your head up enough for him to lean down and kiss you gently on the cheek. His sloping nose brushes the tip of yours, moustache tickling your upper lip, he waits for you to come to him. You kiss softly and quickly before leaning deeper into him, building the strength of your kiss.

“I’d like to do this all night but now’s not the time.”

Even with your confession, Jack didn’t want to take advantage, there was the possibility you’d wake up in the morning and regret the whole thing.

“Just one more.”

You say it so sweetly, how can he resist?

Once satisfied, you break away before scurrying off and up the stairs like you were some sort of naughty school girl. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he reaches for the glasses, corking up what’s left of the whiskey.

By the time he staggered upstairs himself, you were out cold, still fully dressed and bundled in the duvet.

He couldn’t do that himself, he had to rid himself of his tight jeans, tossing them to the chair in the corner. He unbuttoned his shirt another two as he picked up the corner of the covers, slipping carefully underneath.

You grunted but didn’t move an inch.

He repositioned himself, rolling onto his side. His eyes adjusted to the dim light, the features of your face becoming visible. You looked so peaceful, lips parted, your eyelashes casting the faintest of shadows. Stretching out a hand, he placed his palm on your cheeks, the heat from the alcohol in your system still there.

When he strokes his thumb right along the bone, you let out the softest sigh.

And he still thought you were the prettiest lady to step foot on the grounds of the Statesman distillery, even if you’ve only just tried their whiskey.

[errielovesu]

Too sweet

chapter 1 of my first oc fanfiction, please be nice to be I cringe too don't worry, be sure to read the prologue for some extra context or something and yeah enjoy :3 (not proof read im too lazy)

cw/tw: none as of now

Besides beer himeno is a sucker for strawberry milk and maybe banana milk, usually one or the other is in stock but this time had to be my lucky day when none of them are in stock and now i'm not sure what i'm going to fill the fridge with now since we can't just only have beer in there, frustrated I head to the checkout counter and pay for the pain au chocolat that i've always had since I was a child, casually I walk myself back to me and himeno’s apartment, it's around 10 am and she's probably still asleep.

Yesterday everyone in division 4 went out for drinks, rare thing now a days but himeno wanted an excuse to not drink alone or with me since apparently, lately i've just been quiet maybe that's why himeno took me out to drink, it was nothing out the ordinary just so light drinking for me and just having mindless conversation with the other members. As I approach the elevator to get up to my floor I spot a familiar face. “Val-len-tine!!!” Power’s voice echoes through the lobby as she runs at full speed towards my direction she quickly gets ahold of my arm and squeezes me, clear that someone did not want to cook breakfast for the hungry girl, Denji approaches with caution since Power dislikes him talking to me, “Hey valentine, the evil man over there told us no breakfast from him because me and power stayed up playing cards and he couldn’t get his beauty sleep” denji exclaims, looking into powers eye she nods and points at the tall “evil” man that did not cook them a breakfast, I walk towards him as he looks anywhere but my direction. 

“Hey aki..” I poke him on the shoulder, “did you not get your beauty sleeep?” I continue the joke, still not even a look from the man, power snarks at him, “Lets just go up to your apartment and you can make me a delicious breakfast, i'm starving hereeeeeeeee” power squeals, I sigh and nod in agreement, “You're welcome to join too by the way aki…ill let you use the balcony, yeah?” usually I wouldn’t dare let him near the balcony or himeno, I told them if they needed to smoke to do it somewhere else because I couldn’t stand my plants dying, aki looks back, making eye contact with me then power, he slowly starts walking towards the elevator, “I think I just convinced him to stop being evil power” I chuckle.

Opening the door to the apartment, denji and power scurry like rats into the couch and bean bag in the living room, I set my bag down at the kitchen and head to wake up the sleeping himeno herself, knocking softly on the door I call out her name and after a few russels and groans she's up, “You better wear something to cover yourself or no food for you” knowing she will not obey my instruction she walks out in whatever she passed out with. The tv is on, the apartment is loud and warm. “Powers plate is on the left, the rest of you can sit wherever you want” I slightly demand with my voice, everyone surrounds the table and aki is nowhere to be found but of course one glance to the right and he is right on the balcony just admiring the totally interesting sky, I get up from my seat and walk over to the sliding doors that enclose the balcony, sliding them gently and stepping over and sliding the door shut behind me. “I did your job, could you finish now and have something to eat?” He glances my direction, I can barely look at him because its so bright outside, squinting my eyes I ask him to come in, he throws the cigarette out the window, “before you sit down though, can you wash your hands? I can barely stand the smell on himeno when we eat I don't need you to add on to her please” I ask with a bit of sarcasm on my face, Aki never gives me any reactions when I speak, sometimes I hate speaking to him, it feels like i'm speaking to a wall that thinks im stupid or something. “I got it.” Finally a response comes out of his mouth, I motion towards the table and slide the door open again. 

Today is rather quiet, it's about noon now and everyone is doing their own thing around the apartment, himeno and aki are talking, and i'm over here babysitting power and denji. “You know she doesnt like boys, stop trying to talk to her” power sticks her tongue out at denji, “why is this always a discussion with you two? Denji doesnt even talk to me because you scare him away power, look at where he's sitting right now power” I laugh as denji is a good 2 feet away from me, powers attachment to me makes me happy, she's sweet and funny when she isn't doing anything for personal gain and her cat likes me so she automatically likes me more because of meowy. 

“Val, we need to start heading out soon, please kick them out I don't want to do it myself” Himeno says walking towards her room, I stand up and sigh, “well you heard her, you guys also have things to do so please make her happy” I start walking the duo towards the door, aki follows behind me as I open the door for power and denji to walk out, I move to the side to give aki a chance to leave as well, as hes walking out he looks at me, weird, he's just staring me down like he wants to say something, “Thanks.” That's it? It took him that long to utter the word thanks? I dislike non aggressive aki…it's hard to speak to him when he's giving me auto generated response, “anytime, but don’t think ill let you smoke near my plants again” I smile at him, he starts walking towards the elevator where denji is waving goodbye to me and power is just intensely looking at him, waving back I close the door and head to change myself. 

Himeno and I headout the house and embark on whatever Ms.Makima has planned for us and it'll always end with himeno complaining, either way it's the job we have to do so she’ll shut up eventually. Himeno opens the door for me to enter Makimas office, “Hello, valentine.” makima said to me, greeting himeno next. “I've been alerted about a demon with a piece of the gun devil is roaming around Shinjuku station, it's unknown what type of demon it is, if you could go and patrol that area to give everyone peace of mind it would be appreciated.” Quickly me and himeno leave to head to our destination, and soon the complaining will start. “Shinjuku? Really the most populated place we could go to, I hate her stupid assignments, its always some low level slime sucking devil!” I just let her take it out, we shortly started heading towards a train to take us. 

Arriving at Shinjuku station I'm quickly distracted by the thousands of stores I could be exploring but sadly I'll have to focus on finding the devil disturbing, me and himeno walk the streets up and down just patrolling with nothing to be found. Me and himeno stop for some lunch, i'm not really interested in eating anything so I just had a drink while with fascination I watch her eat the burger she bought, wondering what this day is gonna lead us to.

[imfinereallyy]

The Long Con, pt. 2

Access pt. 1 here. I've also decided to start posting this on ao3 as well, which you can find here.

Las Vegas, Nevada

Steve had met Robin during one of the lowest parts of his life. After leaving Boston and everything he knew behind, Steve hopped from place to place for a few weeks. Working odd jobs just to get from one place to the next. Eventually, he landed himself in Vegas. It had felt far enough from home where he would avoid being found, but also less obvious than a place like LA.

Steve had a lot of vices in his past life, sex, money, and women, but gambling wasn't one of them. So if someone was following the trail of his bad habits, Vegas wouldn't even cross their mind.

Steve began working at a bar on the strip when he arrived. It was a fancy place, wasn't part of a casino, and stood out independently. The Bearpoppy Lounge. It was the type of place where everyone wore suits and Gucci belts. Wealth was not only flaunted but required. It reminded Steve of the places his parents used to take him to impress business partners.

Robin had been his trainer for the bar, and well, she had absolutely hated him at first. Steve hadn't been able to figure out why. He was incredibly charming, and women usually fell at his feet. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but people usually drew to him. It had been a shock to the system when the first thing Robin had said to him was,

"I give you two days before you quit."

"What?" Steve asked in shock. Surely, she couldn't have been serious. "Do I not even get your name? Or, I don't know, a hello?" Steve thought he should reel in the snark. It wouldn't help his situation to let out his bitchy side. He just wasn't used to it. The lack of immediate trust he got from strangers. Most people would find that mentality naive, but Steve was raised to be enticing.

"My name is Robin, like it says on my name tag if you had bothered to read it. And I don't usually bother with introductions. I know the pretty boy type; trust me, it doesn't last." Robin wiped down glasses at the bar and didn't look up as she spoke.

Steve was resisting the urge to blow up on her. He couldn't prove her right. He had to lay on the charm thick.

Steve took in Robin's appearance before answering. She was pretty. Short dirty blonde hair cut to her chin with pink at the ends. Light freckles decorated Robin's face, which defined her already high cheekbones. She was tall, almost as tall as him, but she held herself awkwardly, like she didn't know what to do with her limbs. Robin would be easy to charm. Beautiful, so he wouldn't have to lie, and insecure so he could work her. "Well, if pretty girls like you can make it this far, I don't see why I can't." Steve leaned his body against the counter and appraised Robin up and down.

Robin snorted, "Oh god, you can't be serious. Please don't tell me the next thing you're gonna say is how you 'got lost in my beautiful blue orbs' like we were in some cheesy fanfiction."

Steve's mask fumbled a bit. "Orbs? What? Eyes can't be orbs. Then you'd have to see all the way around? Right? Wait—" Steve spiraled for a minute. Robin threw him off his rhythm.

Robin's face cracked slightly at Steve's confusion before she sighed deeply. "Look, I'm going to be, uh, straight, with you." Robin paused as she had a sort of inside joke with herself. "I don't like you."

Ouch. "Ouch."

Robin pushed on, "Look, it's not about you personally. It's about, ya know, what you represent. Like you came in here with no experience, no background, and just charmed your way into this job. Now I have to spend two weeks training you, only for you to stay a month tops. Guys, girls, and everything between, like you only come to work here for two things. Fortune and fame. They come to find a rich spouse or try to catch the eye of someone with a business card and a one-way ticket to Hollywood. And listen, it works. Most of you guys get what you want. Any other bar on the strip, I would tell you to quit while you're ahead. Big names come in here, though. And most of you get what you want. And if you don't? Well, you usually break and go back home to Mommy and Daddy. You all leave me high and dry and training another person. The worst offenders of all are the pretty boys. They come in here, lay on the charm, making assumptions about me, try to sleep with me, and when I don't give them what they want, they turn on me. So, sorry if I don't think we will get along."

Steve felt something inside him snap, "You know, for someone who hates people making assumptions about others, you really are assuming a lot about me." Robin looked taken aback by the bitchy attitude. Steve pressed on, "And I don't want that, Robin: fortune and fame. I mean, a little fortune would be nice, but who doesn't want that? And did you think that there was a reason I had to charm my way into this job? You said it yourself I have no experience! How will I ever gain that if I don't have the job to try it in the first place? And for your information Robin, there is no way I am running back to Mommy and Daddy. I think I'd rather take my chances with the streets, thank you very much."

Robin opened her mouth to speak, but Steve cut her off.

"Also, if you aren't into me, that's fine. I wouldn't make you uncomfortable for it. I'm not everyone's type; I can deal with that." Steve crossed his arms, emphasizing his point to her.

Robin swallowed, a bit of shame crept onto her face. "Sorry."

Steve sighed, "It's fine."

"No, it's not. I didn't give you the chance to fuck up first. I should at least give you that. And I get it, you know. Not going back to the parents."

The tension left Steve, "Yeah?"

"Yea, it's actually for the reason you're not my type. "

"Huh?"

Robin giggled but then looked hesitant. "I'm pretty sure the only kind of person you aren't the type for shares something in common with me. I'm a lesbian, dude. "

Steve took in the way Robin shrunk on herself even more and decided to share one tiny secret with her; even though he shouldn't be in the business of giving away his secrets. "It's okay. I'm safe. I'm not going to tell anyone. We share the same secret."

It was Robin's turn to say, "Yeah?"

Steve smiled at her, "Oh yeah. I, too, love the ladies, Robin."

Robin giggle-screeched. "Dingus!"

Steve warmed at the pet name. "But I also like the dudes. And everything in between."

Robin's smile softened, "Thanks for telling me."

Steve waved his hand in the air. "Yeah, yeah. Are you actually going to do your job and train me?"

"And just when I was starting to like you. Welcome to hell then; I'll be your guide." Despite her words, Robin's tone held an ease that wasn't there earlier.

Steve knew she'd be tough to crack, but he knew it would be worth it.

--------------

It was weird; it was Robin who gave him the idea. When they first met, he thought she would have been the judgemental type. Well, he wasn't far off from that, but she was surprisingly morally loose when it came to illegal activity.

"You know that man would have done anything to get in your pants, right?" Robin nodded toward the guy who just left the bar to go sit back with his buddies. He was in his late forties, and pretty fit for his age. He had introduced himself as Clark; which either the dude had the world's most bland name, or he was using Clark Clent as a pseudonym to cover the fact he was flirting with a man when Mr. Clark was clearly married (at least the shiny gold band said so). Steve hadn't been interested, though. For one, he wasn't looking to get attached to anyone (although Robin was starting to make that look difficult). Secondly, Steve had learned the hard way that being a queer person, no matter the day in age, wasn't always safe.

Especially with married men.

"And so what, Buckley? I don't think I have anything to gain from a married man looking to bang some random bartender, who, by the way, he doesn't even know likes other men?" Steve throws his towel over his shoulder and turns towards Robin.

"But you are into men." Robin deadpans.

"Okay, true, but not the point. Hey, wait, how does he even know I like men?"

Robin shrugs, "Same way that I did, like seeks like my hairy friend. However, I suppose we aren't exactly the same. Since I am only interested in the ladies. Oh wait—does that make us more alike since we both like women, and you liking men makes us less alike? But that's gay, so that makes us—"

"Robin, you didn't even know. I had to tell you. After you yelled at me."

"Sorry!" She cringed.

Steve sighed, "Besides, still nothing to gain from sleeping with him. Besides, the dude's name is Clark."

Robin snorted, "That's rich coming from you, James."

Steve was not lost on the irony that he and Clark were both using fake names.

"I'm not exactly sure you're getting to an actual point Robs."

Robin put her hands in front of her as if she was surrendering. "Okay, hear me out. The dude clearly has money and really wants to sleep with you. Heck, a lot of people come in who want to sleep with you. Men, women, everything in between, and everything outside of it. These people want you, Steve, which I don't understand, but they do. These very rich people want to sleep with you. And you, a very poor bartender who frankly is terrible at his job, could use that to his advantage."

Steve just stared at her.

"You do get what I am saying, right?"

"Yes Robin, I get what you're saying. You want me to prostitute myself to our customers."

"I believe the proper term is sex workers; you can be offended by not offensive."

"Robin." Steve whisper yelled.

"Oh, c'mon! It isn't the worst idea. You like money, and you like sex. I'm not really seeing a downside. I mean, it's your body, so you get to do what you want with it. But I wouldn't judge you if it was this. I mean you don't have to sleep with them even! Swindle them for their money; I know you're a charmer. You might not even have to go as far as sex. I mean, unless you want to. Again, your body, my dude."

"Why do you even want me to do this? Shouldn't you want me to stay on a legal path? Be the voice of reason? Isn't that what this whole nerdy good girl thing you got going for?" Steve returned to the bar while he spoke and started preparing a drink. Although he was protesting and acting offended by the idea, it wasn't actually a terrible proposition. Steve had done worse for less, and he had a lot of respect for those in the industry. It was just, he didn't get why Robin was pushing it. It was Steve's instinct to be mistrustful. People didn't offer things to him, especially very illegal ones, unless they wanted to gain something or get something against him.

"No, I don't want to be your pimp. Can't a girl offer some life advice to her helpless coworker? Besides, I'd be a hypocrite if I told you not to earn money illegally. Considering my side-gigs." Robin walked around the bar to stand directly in front of Steve. She placed her elbows on the wood and her head in her hands. She looked sincere, and that's when it hit Steve.

"First off, we are coming back to the side-gig thing—"

"We most definitely are not." Robin quipped.

"Second, I think I get it now. You're worried about me. We're friends, and you're worried about me."

"Take it back."

"No, no. You, Robin Buckley, care about me."

Robin shuttered, "We are not friends, James. And I am not worried. I simply became too invested in your pathetic life; my apologies." She started to lean back from the bar but Steve put the drink down and caught her by her elbows.

"If you admit we're friends, and that you're worried about me, I'll think about your idea." Steve gave her elbows a light squeeze.

Robin caved instantaneously, "Fine, you dingus! We're friends. I care about you! Despite my best efforts, your stupid face and jokes are incredibly endearing, and you always cheer me up on bad days. And every day here is a bad day. And I'm worried about you because you look like you're going to run every five seconds, and every time it's a shitty tip night, you deep sigh. And dammit, you're the only person I like here, and if you go at this point, so do I."

Steve felt himself blink back tears. Robin, in all her rambling glory, had managed to give him one of the best speeches he's ever heard. Steve hadn't had anyone care about him like this in, well, ever. It was a welcomed devastation.

Steve tugged her into a bone-crushing hug. Their stomachs pressed against the bar, the wood digging into their hips. "I'm gonna do it."

"Yea? You really don't have to. We can figure something else out. I would teach you how to hack, but I don't think you'd be very good at it." Robin let out a wet laugh.

Steve let her go and shrugged. "Nah, it's a good idea. And honestly sounds like a bit of fun. Swindling the wealthy into giving to the poor. Well, giving to me. But I count as poor currently."

Robin smiled, "Only if you're sure, dingus."

"I am. Now—" Steve pushed the drink with a bar business card that he wrote his name and number on underneath. "—go take this to money bags over there."

Robin grabs the card and throws it at him. "You can't give your real name and number, dummy. For now, I'm gonna give him my side gig number until you can get your own. All we need is a name." She grabbed a new card and wrote down the digits.

Steve took the pen from her and looked around the bar for inspiration. He jotted down the first thing that came to mind. "Here ya go."

Robin looked down and choked on a laugh. "You can't be serious."

"Deadly."

Robin rolled her eyes one last time before picking up the drink. "We will think of a better one later. But I guess for now; I'll deliver this to your first client, Cherry."

Steve knew then, and there he and Robin were for life.

________

Boston, Massachusetts

It was at this moment Steve was trying to picture how Robin would react to how majorly he fucked up. Considering she had already warned him about the dangers of Tommy Hagan's friendship, Steve didn't have to think too hard. Robin had always been good at that, calling him on his bullshit before it even happened. Steve could hear her voice in his head saying,

This is what happens when you play with fire Dingus.

Steve wondered if he'd ever get to hear her voice in person again.

"What kind of deal?" Steve asked before throwing himself to the wolves. Though he was sure his life was on the line, he couldn't just say yes to whatever Eddie asked. He didn't want to die, but he also had to consider that there were people he cared about in this world. Steve wouldn't put them at risk, even if it meant his own well-being.

In retrospect, he should have reevaluated the list of people he cared about, considering one was the reason he was here in the first place.

Eddie leaned back against the booth, stretched his arms across the back of it, and let out a dark chuckle. "Well, for starters, I'm going to need that bag back. That's the easy part. Considering it's mine anyway. Although, it does seem a bit light there. Why is that sweetness?"

Steve could feel himself go pale. God, Tommy had fucked fucked him. He was starting to consider that it was even a setup. He didn't peg Hagan for being that smart, though. "It's only half. Tommy took the other half with him when I met up with him. I'm so supposed to keep the other half safe for a few weeks, then bring it to him."

Eddie raised his eyebrows, "Pretty forthcoming, aren't we? Thought I'd have to push a bit more to break ya. Now I'm not sure if I even want to offer you the rest of the deal. Don't particularly like working with snitches."

Steve tried not to let out a frustrated growl. Charm, he had to charm Eddie. He was making it hard for Steve. "I'm not a snitch; I just don't see the point in covering for someone who obviously fucked me."

Eddie put his hands up in mock surrender, "Woah there, sweetness. Didn't mean to touch a nerve. I'm only having a bit of fun. You'll let me have my fun, won't you? Considering you made me stop my hard work in the middle of the day to deal with you?" Although Eddie smiled as he spoke, Steve could tell he wasn't happy. Steve decided to be smart and stay silent. "Now tell me, where and when did you meet him? And when and where were you meeting up again?"

Steve gritted his teeth, "What's the rest of the deal?"

"What's that?" Eddie ticked his head to the side.

"I'm not going to tell you anything else if I don't know what I'm getting out of it or what I need to do to get to the finish line. So, What's the rest of the deal?"

"You're a clever one, aren't you? I'm not surprised, actually, considering the sort of bravery it takes to steal from me." Steve noted in his head that Eddie said bravery and not stupidity. He tucked it away for later. "Fine, considering you've been forthcoming so far, I'll be kind and lay all the cards on the table. On one condition."

Steve gave up on being charming. He knew it was getting him nowhere. "Deal for a deal? Seems a bit convoluted, don't ya think?"

"Ooo, bitchy and knows big words? Full of surprises. I promise you this one is an easy one. Should you choose the right path, no harm will come your way Padalin. Well, none that you don't ask for, at least." A wicked grin spread across Eddie's face.

"Get to the point."

"You know I'd have a man's head at this point for that kind of talk. Fortunately bitchy looks good on you. Anyway, the condition is this. Tell me your name, sweetness. I think it's rude that I gave you my name and I don't have yours."

"Well I didn't ask for yours and like you said earlier, I don't think introductions were necessary."

Eddie gave Steve an unamused eyebrow; his patience was wearing thin.

Steve was buying time, he wasn't sure what name to give him. He wasn't stupid; he couldn't exactly give him his real name. He couldn't just tell him, Steve. For one, he was in Boston. A slip of the first name means a slip of the last. And besides coming back to Boston in the first place, that would be the absolute dumbest thing he'd ever do if he were to let that slip. Steve was well aware the Harrington name hadn't grown kinder over the years.

The other reason was if he were to give him his real name, Eddie would suddenly have access to his entire life in an instant. His story, his crimes, his weaknesses. Steve was sure that Eddie had his very own Robin, although he doubted they were any good since Steve had the best, but even a raccoon with access to Google could find him.

So Steve had to think. What name could he give him? He thought about the hundreds of alias he had over the years. Some of them are more thought out than others. Like Mark Odom, who was a sales rep just down on his luck at the horse tracks and just needed a bit of insider information for a win. He had a family to feed, after all.

Or there was the ones with less background, like Cherry, who didn't even have a last name. He was just a good disguise for Steve when he wanted to swindle money out of higher-profile men.

Those aliases, no matter the depths of their stories, were too used, too frequented, too recent. They had a history that could be traced. Steve thought of possibly starting a whole new alias for Eddie. But those took time. A quick lie in the moment was easy, but Steve had a deep feeling nothing about his interactions with Eddie would be quick.

Eddie looked at him expectantly, waiting. It had only been a few seconds since Steve had last spoke, but between the two of them, it felt like hours. It felt as though Steve was losing the game and fast.

An idea sprung on Steve suddenly. An old name he used once. It was a name thrust upon him more like, but he had only used it once. He was sure Eddie would catch onto it being fake, but Steve hoped that the man's affinity for nicknames let it slide.

"Angel. The name is Angel."

"Angel." Eddie deadpanned. "Angel, what? No last name?"

"No last name." Steve shook his head.

Eddie rubbed a hand down his face, "That's what you're going with? You really expect me to believe that?"

"It's all you're gonna get."

Eddie stared at Steve momentarily before a playful smile edged at his lips. "Alright, I'll bite. Angel, it is, for now. Just don't expect the truth to stay hidden for long. You see, I always get my way in the end. Okay, Angel?" Eddie's eyes penetrated Steve's, and silence again hung in the air.

"Okay." Steve believed Eddie. He secretly hoped he wouldn't be around the man long enough to see how quickly he got his way.

"Good. Now here's the deal Angel." Eddie emphasized Steve's name in mockery. "You give me the half you have under the table. That's been established so far. Then you are going to help me get the rest of the money back and get me a little chat with your good pal Hagan."

Steve opened his mouth to protest the idea of him and Tommy being good pals, but shut it before he could make the situation for himself worse. Probably better for himself to not push his luck.

"That's the easy part," Eddie continued. He leaned forward, taking his arms off the back of the shredded booth, and used his hand to grip Steve's chin. The grip was firm but not painful as he pulled Steve forward. It was as if he was trying to prove a point, trying to prove that Eddie was the one in control, prove that he didn't want to hurt Steve, just put him in his place. "The hard part of the deal is this. You see, it's not easy to steal from me. And yet, here you are. You've made it much further than others have. And that is a skill not many possess. And right now, I could use that."

Steve visibly swallowed. He was trying not to let this man get to him. It felt impossible with Eddie's hand on him and their proximity. It had been so long since Steve had been this close to someone, so intimately, without the illusion of the game. Sure, there was an imminent threat over Steve's head, but he couldn't shut off the part of his brain that kind of liked it. Steve had to push away the desire to breathe in all that was Eddie. Steve decided to blame these uncontrollable thoughts on the fact he hadn't gotten laid since Seattle over a month ago.

Not because he felt attracted to the man who was actively threatening him. That would be insane.

"How do you suppose I do that?" Steve licked his lips and didn't break eye contact with Eddie.

"I have a list. A list of people who have wronged me. Who has stolen from me, in one form or another? Usually, I'd have them taken care of, but I don't think they deserve such an easy out. I think I need to make a statement. I think they should be given exactly what they've taken. They bit the hand that fed them after all." Eddie squeezed Steve's chin lightly. It once again caused no pain, but it grounded Steve. Sent a silent reminder of who was in control.

"Big believer in karma, then? Wouldn't have taken you for the type." Steve pushed out a weak laugh. Eddie stared at him a moment before releasing him, sitting back into his original position.

Eddie's lip tilted slightly, "Maybe I am. Do we have a deal?"

Steve snorted, "That's it? You're not going to tell me more? No reason why, no, what do I need to do? Kind of feels like I'm getting the shit end of the stick here."

In the corner of his eye, Steve saw one of Eddie's men move when he raised his voice. It made Steve stop abruptly, shrinking back into his seat. Eddie waved his henchman to stand down. "No, you don't get more. And beggers can't be choosers, can they?"

" 'Suppose not."

"Good boy. Now, do we have a deal?" Eddie stuck his hand out for Steve to shake.

Steve had to suppress his reaction once again. Eddie had to be testing him at this point. Good boy would be seared into his brain forever. A brand of how dangerous this man was to him.!Steve looked down at the rough, veiny hands. "On one condition."

Eddie barked out a laugh, "You know you really like pushing your luck, Angel. It's like you have a deathwish. You aren't exactly in the position to make demands, hasn't that been clear? You're lucky you are so goddamn interesting. So, once again, I'll bite."

"I get to veto someone, no questions asked, if I don't want to do it." Steve thought about how many enemies he had here in Boston. How many people he had no desire to run into? He needed to make sure most, if not all of them, never crossed paths with him again. Steve knew it was a long shot to ask of this. It defeated the whole purpose of helping Eddie if he was allowed to say no. They both knew this. And yet, Steve held out hope.

Eddie hummed to himself for a moment before answering. "You get one."

Steve whipped his head towards Eddie in shock. "What?"

"I'll give you one veto. No questions asked. But that's it. Once you use it, it's gone."

Steve knew when to not look a gift horse in the mouth. "Okay, deal." Steve stuck his hand out for Eddie to grab. Steve tried not to shutter when Eddie's warm hand engulfed his own. The smoothness of his rings and the callouses on his palms contradicted each other and send a delicious thrill down Steve's spine.

Yeah, Steve was fucked.

"Deal, Angel." Eddie slid out of the booth, and his men made to follow him. "Now, if I am correct, you're currently staying at the rundown motel on 3rd? Well, Ben here—" Eddie gestured to the eager henchman from earlier "—will follow you to the motel to collect your things. Then he's going to take you to the room I paid for you at the Palace Hotel. Where he, and a rotation of other people, will be standing guard outside your door 24/7."

"What? Don't trust me?" Steve tried to lighten the apparent tension.

"Oh, not in the slightest, Angel. Trust you just about as much as I can throw you." Eddie slid dark sunglasses on before walking up to the door. "Looking forward to chatting again. I think this will be a good thing for us both, sweetheart."

Eddie walked out without looking back, taking most of his men with him. Ben stayed behind, glaring daggers at Steve's head.

Steve couldn't help but feel a shift in the tide; he would be returning to this moment for the rest of his life. He knew there was no coming back from this, and even if there was, Robin would kill him anyway.

Steve looked down at his milkshake, it was fucking melted.

***

has it been a month since I posted the first part? Yes. Yes it has. Please don't murder me. It has been hectic, I got a new job which means I work two now and I got sick. I finally had some time to start working on this. I also wanted to actually plan this out, make an outline, since yes you guessed it…

it’s going to be a long fic.

As you can tell these parts are really long, so I’m thinking about just posting on ao3, and maybe putting previews on here. Unless you guys want it also fully here. Let me know! :)

I’m so excited for this thank you all for your patience. You can access part one here and ao3 here.

also if I tagged you and you didn’t want to be tagged let me know! some reblogs seemed interested in a part 2 but didn’t mention it specifically but I tried to tag you if I could!

tag list:

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