#texas x dave | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wildemaven · 2 months

Text

strangers : fog | dave york

pairing: dave york x f!reader word count: 5208 chapter warning's: 18+ blog: established relationship, workaholic Dave, soft Dave, miscommunication, Smut (slight exhibitionism, dry humping, orgasms, keeping kind of vague for the sake of not giving things away), implied/alluding to infidelity (there is none, reader just doesn’t know this), Dave’s phone makes an appearance- shocking, drinking alcohol, smoking cigarettes, conversations with bestie, reader is mentioned wearing lingerie and a bathing suit- but zero description features, no age given but it’s implied she’s at least over 30, no y/n, this is au- no Carol (at least not canon Carol) or kids, if I missed anything let me know notes: I kind of struggled with the end of this one. It felt very flat and blah, but thankfully @gnpwdrnwhiskey Is a gem and helped me, and it feels good now. So grateful for all of you who’ve been following along. Xoxo

strangers masterlist | previous | next | playlist | inspo board

It’s sweet.

But not the kind of sweet that aches and destroys your addiction.

It’s perfect. Just enough.

The kind of sweet that falls somewhere in the middle. Satiating that deep seeded craving that burns through your every fiber.

Like a glass of ice cold tea under the Texas sun, sweetened to perfection. Each tantalizing drop coating your tongue, idly encompassing every single taste bud with refreshing pleasure.

You're greedy. Reveling in your consumption. Take. Take. Take. Because it’s all you want and everything you’ve been needing.

Finally.

You feel him everywhere. The weight of him is substantial, pressing you into the side of the pool. A secure grip onto the ledge, the swell of his biceps flexed as he does his best to keep you both suspended and unmoving from your secluded spot.

He’s a blistering summer heatwave, one you’re fully hydrated and prepared for, but still stunned by its sultriness.

“You think they’re watching us right? All of them so fucking jealous at how good I’m makin’ you feel.” You don’t bother to take a look when he says it, your head angled back and eyes closed as his lips work their way up your neck, your only concern at the moment.

“Mmhmm— I honestly don’t care. Let them watch. Let them see how good you’re taking care of me— fuckbaby!” Your train of thought derailed when his hips jerk up with a little more eagerness than you expected.

The cool water laps rhythmically against you both. The tiniest of splashes to your exposed skin as it surrounds your bodies, relieving the heat that’s burning through you.

“Ahh!” You gasp at the sensation of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Nipping and pulling. The gentle glide of his tongue soothing over the pleasant sting.

“Sorry—“ He manages to get out. “Didn’t mean to be so rough, but also been wantin’ this so fuckin’ bad.”

His lips seal over yours again, groaning where he can feel you grinding against him, discreetly hidden below the surface of the water. Your legs wrapped tightly around his narrow waist, holding him as close as possible.

He’s unbelievably hard. Cock nudging against your aching core, the water aiding in the flow of your hips moving over him in search of relief.

“I’m definitely not complaining in the slightest. If anything, I’m entirely enjoying the roughness— wouldn’t be opposed to more of it.” You say smiling against his swollen lips.

Your words lure him back in, driven by a deeper sense of want forging beneath the water. Lashes fluttering shut as every bit of him consumes your senses. All tongues and teeth, tracing over every ridge and fleshy surface. A sweet delicate dance of unbridled emotions.

It's a slow building, intensely breathtaking. Your body ignited by self-indulgent energy, so hell-bent on seeking out unrivaled satisfaction, but you don’t seem to care. Focused solely on how each and every nerve lights up because of him, desperately wanting a release. A natural response to the way he’s holding you, kissing you, his determination to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck— that feels so good!” Breathless and anchoring yourself to his warm body.

“Yeah? You think you can come like this?” One of his hands settles on your hip, helping your unfaltering movements, hitting that ever so desirable spot just right. “There you go, gorgeous— just like that.”

“ohmygod!! I’m so close— don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.“ Your grip secure on his taut shoulders, unmoving even under the wet conditions. Your head falling onto his forehead, noses nudging, exchanging desperate wordless breaths.

“I’ve got ya.” He whispers, nodding softly as your body writhes against him. “Come for me, Baby.”

“Oh fuck! oh fuck! oh fuck— I’m coming!” Everything dissolves into pleasure. Tense and blissed out as your cunt contracts around nothing.

“Open your eyes, Baby. Let me see you come undone.”

You pull back just enough to see him. He’s beautiful, framed in a hazy white vignette. His patchy beard is both rough and soft beneath your fingertips, tracing over every little detail of him while you still can. His rich brown eyes now a golden hue as the light hits them from the reflection of the water.

“Fuck— Joel!”

You’re floating. Further and further away. Every detail of him slowly dissolving into nothingness.

Your body jolts awake, Oh god, That felt so fucking real. Quickly sitting up, your hand to your chest feeling where your heart is frantically pounding.

The dry air from the vent billows out from above you, cooling as it skims over your tacky skin.

The remnants of last night's headache still remain. Though it wanes in intensity, the throbbing pain continues. Rubbing at your temples, the added pressure doing absolutely nothing.

There’s a faint familiar ache that catches your attention from below the sheets, prompting you to throw them off, finding a pillow still tucked tightly between your legs. The experimental squeeze of your thighs around the pillow sends a fresh ripple of pleasure from your fading orgasm, causing you to inhale sharply. Your palms clamping over your mouth, breath more constricted than the last as a strong feeling of shame begins to surge through your veins.

The hotel room feels paralyzing, especially with Dave sleeping beside you.

The beach.

Needing some fresh air and some time to collect your irrational thoughts, away from this confined space where everything seems to be closing in on you. Hastily, you manage to pull on some warm clothes and sandals while throwing your wallet and phone in your purse without waking Dave.

You know the minute he wakes up to find you gone he’ll panic. It will take only minutes to have all his agent buddies pulling maps and running background checks on anyone who lives within a mile radius of the hotel. You’re already annoyed with his distant behavior, you don’t have it in you to deal with the added disgruntlement that will ensue.

Grabbing for the monogrammed hotel stationary, you scratch out a note to leave on this nightstand for him to find when he does wake.

Good Morning, Babe Couldn’t sleep. Went for a walk down to the beach. I have my phone. Will be back in a bit. Love you Xoxo

You two his phone screen, noting the time at the bottom— 8:00 am —a little tactic Dave had ingrained in you for matters as such, giving a starting point in the case anything were to happen to you, taking the guessing game of when out of the equation.

A New Message glows on the screen, came in sometime last night after you both got back from dinner, he must have fallen asleep before seeing it.

Double checking, you peek over the mound of blankets that is Dave’s solid body— still sleeping. The side of his face buried into his pillow and his plush lips parted. No worry lines etched across his forehead. No tension pulling at his jawline. His perfectly groomed hair, all disheveled and twisted in all directions.

Your heart blooms at how handsome he is, his truest self on full display. A running joke between you, how others would be disappointed to find out his grumpy exterior is all a show, only reserving his softer side and big heart for you.

Refocusing back to his phone, you tap the message to preview it— a message from his mom.

Mom: Did she find out? Call me when you can, we’ll talk about it then.

Did she find out? Find out what?

The beach isn’t far from the hotel. Grateful for only a few hellos and forced smiles exchanged on the shared path on the short walk.

The air is crisp the closer you get to the water, a light breeze blows over the shoreline bringing tiny bits of sand crystals through the air. You can feel the salt already crystallizing against your cheeks.

The lingering fog adds a bit of gloom to the atmosphere as you look out over the horizon in front of you. The white caps of the waves slowly roll over into the next, pushing their way through until they’ve reached the shore. The water fanning out as it moves, blanketing over the sand as it reaches where feet are planted firmly, now surrounded by the frigid sea water. Then it slowly slinks back out, leaving you numb as you wait for it to return.

Good Morning! Are you busy? No. Are you okay? Yeah, I’m fine. I just need someone to talk to. One sec!

It takes a few flicks of the small metal dial for the flame to ignite, cupping your hand around to shelter it from the light wind threatening to squash your attempt at some sort of relief.

It’s instant when it hits the back of your mouth, swirling and stinging about as it creeps up the back of your throat. That burn is all too familiar, no longer a regular occurrence, but definitely not forgotten. It takes the edge off momentarily, it always does. You imagine blowing out all your pent up anger as your release the smoke into the oceanic air.

The cigarette sits between your fingers with ease, secure against those first knuckles as you bring it back to your lips for another desperate pull. That dedicated drag of your favorite menthol smokes had once been a regular part of your daily life in your college days. Getting you through long days of studying and working late hours, barely keeping your head above the water. Pack after pack. Light, smoke, tension gone, repeat.

Eventually it was downgraded to a social practice before finally kicking the habit all together. Something Dave never pushed for, but was proud of you nonetheless.

Your phone screen illuminates and buzzes simultaneously, a picture of Jacey double fisting some beers at last year's Fourth of July party pops up. The image alone already makes you feel better.

“Mmm�� Hello?” You can tell she just woke up by the way she garbles her words into the phone.

“Hey, Jacey. I didn’t wake you did I?”

“Mhmm— Kind of but it’s okay— had a bit of a late night, but it’s fine. How are things going?”

“Fine. Good. Things are good.” Trying hard to keep your voice even without giving away too much— but she knows you too well.

“I’m calling bullshit. You’re seriously the worst liar ever. Spill.”

“Ugh. Where do I even start?” You tell her, audibly groaning into the brisk pacific air.

“I’ve got some time.”

Jacey has always been this way. Available whenever you’ve needed her, at a moment's notice. Connecting with her in college, your friendship has been a steady source of support and encouragement through the years. She stood by you when you married Dave— having her now makes you feel less alone.

“Well, if it’s not one thing it’s another. There were some high hopes for sex when we got in the other night, then he passed out— which is fine ‘cause traveling and what not. But I got in my head, questioning shit about myself and our relationship. Like maybe it’s me or something. He did try to initiate the next morning but I just kind of wasn’t feeling it— so we didn’t. Plus he had phone calls he needed to make so he wasn’t worrying about them the rest of our time here.”

“Hey, it’s not you at all. Don’t ever think that. You’re a catch— Dave knows that too.” She says, her reassurance firm but delivered sincerely.

“Thank you. I mean, we kind of fooled around at the pool yesterday.”

“Ooooh!! I love this for you.”

“Well, then he ran off right before I— you know.”

“Fucking men, I swear.”

“Only to find him on the phone when he said he wouldn’t be. Then he was all jealous over this stranger I was talking to. We got back to the room, things seemed a little tense— we still went to dinner. Don’t really remember much after that, because I kept ordering dirty martinis at dinner.”

After hearing the beginning of his phone call, the shower didn’t do much to help. You didn’t want to make a scene, deciding to just leave the hurt bubbling inside of you back in the room and make the best of the rest of the night.

Dave seemed pretty much his normal self going into dinner. Conversation was lighter than it was earlier in the room. You both caught up on things that you hadn’t really talked about in a while— details about his latest assignments (within reason), your own latest work projects, random tidbits about things —things felt normal.

There was a slight shift in the evening, when he was checking his phone more often than usual. Glancing at the screen between bites of his steak then trying to figure out where you left off in the conversation.

You hadn’t even planned on drinking, but the chilled cocktail in front of Dave had been taunting you, begging to help obliterate your lingering thoughts. Then it was I’ll have another, Maybe one more, Suuuuure another sounds grreat. The dim restaurant turned into hazy fractures of light. The steady buzz of alcohol had you feel giggling and sleepy, slumping back into the velvet cushion of the intimate booth. Dave cut you off before things turned into a wild evening, shifting from your introverted self into a very lively and friendly drunk.

You don’t even remember getting back to the room, just brief glimpses of Dave undressing you and helping you into one of his shirts, then tucking you into bed.

“Hold up. Rewind— you fucking hate martinis! What the hell happened?!” She knows you so well.

“Jacey, you’re my best friend. Someone who will be straight with me no matter what. I think— Do you think Dave is cheating on me?” You ask meekly, inhaling another minty pull from your nearly finished cigarette.

“What?! Babe, why would you think Dave is cheating on you? Did something happen?”

““No— I mean yes. I think so. Fuck! I don't know what to think. We got back to the room after the pool yesterday, talked for a little bit then I went to get ready for dinner. I guess he thought I closed the door or something but I could hear him talking to someone—“ You try to keep your voice steady, finding it hard to blink the tears away as the wind whips around you.

“Okay. Well, that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s cheating on you. It could have just been more work shit he said he wasn’t going to do. Maybe he figured he could squeeze it in before dinner— not wanting to upset you.” Jacey is all about layout the facts and details before jumping down dark rabbit holes.

“Ashley— Her name is Ashley. I heard him say her name.”

There’s a beat of silence on the line before you hear her sigh.

“Oh— what else did you hear?” She says, sounding a little more somber than before.

“Nothing. My brain kind of went blank after that and I just got ready for dinner like I didn’t hear anything. Hence the abundance of martinis I drank my way through. Which also explains the slight headache I woke up with this morning.”

“Okay. So whoever he was talking to—“

“Ashley.” Details Jacey.

“Right, Ashley. We don’t really know much, aside from that. So it could be anyone. Could be work related— Ashley could be a last name too. You know how they always do that last name first thing for whatever reason.” Somehow she always finds a way to get you to back away from the cliff, especially when your feet are over the edge.

“Yeah, probably.” You say softly in agreement. A flock of birds catching your attention, their wings moving in unison as they fly overhead.

“Look, like you said before— I’m gonna be straight with you. I don’t think Dave is cheating or would ever cheat. That man loves you. Sure, he’s kind of been a little too invested in work, which is affecting things with you. I don’t think there’s someone else. I promise. But I do think you both need to talk instead of this weird dance you both are doing, that way you’re both on the same page.”

“Okay. Yeah— you’re right. Thank you, Jace. Last thing— Does it make me a bad person if I had a dream about another man last night?” You ask, feeling a bit embarrassed as you voice it out loud.

“I have those all the time— especially with that cute actor from that narcos show we love. Dreams don’t equate to real life.” She only slightly laughs at your confession.

“What if it was with a guy I met at the pool who’s staying in the hotel, who listened to me spill my life away about how I’m not sure if my husband wants kids or not now— and how marriage feels like a mess.”

“Oh! Pool guy was cute— No, I don’t think that makes you a bad person. Your thoughts are just all over the place right now. It was a dream. You’re fine. Hey, I hate to bail on you— but I’m umm, getting another call. We will chat soon, then you can give me more details about the cute pool guy. Love you!”

“Love you too, Jace. Talk soon. Bye.”

The call clicks out. Waves crashing onto the shore brings you back to the beach. Your cheeks cold and feet stinging as the water recedes again.

It's nearing 10 am now, deciding to head back before Dave does in fact worry that you’ve been gone for too long. You snuff out the smoldering cigarette in the wet sand and stick it in your bag to dispose of later. The added nicotine now mingles poorly with your lingering hangover, body in desperate need of water and a strong pain reliever.

On your way back to the hotel, you take every bit of what Jacey said and truly let it sink in, even as hard as it is to not let your mind wander into dark territory. She’s right though, it doesn’t do you any good to dwell on situational events if you have zero proof of anything. That doesn’t mean that you’ve written off your uneasiness completely, just simply tucking it away for the time being.

The sweet bellmen welcomes you back with a friendly smile and a wave as he holds the door open for your return. The lobby now bustles with more guests than earlier. Some checking in for their stay, others enjoying the picturesque ambience of the hotel.

In the time that it takes to get up to your room, you’ve run through several different scenarios in your head. All feeling immensely overwhelming at the thought of talking with Dave about how you’ve been feeling since he hasn’t seemed to pick up on the subtle inklings that there’s been a definite shift in your relationship the past few months. You’re not really sure you even want to have the conversation now, let alone here— not wanting to ruin the rest of the vacation in the chance things don’t go as smoothly as you want. You ultimately decide to wait, once you’ve settled back in at home, finally address everything with him.

You can hear Dave’s voice muffled outside the door of your room as you search for your key card in your bag, sounding as if he’s talking to someone on the phone.

The room is bright as you enter, the curtains pulled open allowing the sun to shine through the large windows. The bed is somewhat made with the pillows stacked neatly and sheets straightened in an orderly Dave manner.

Food had already been ordered and delivered, set out on the small table on the balcony. Your favorite breakfast of eggs benedict and toast along with a fresh pot of coffee. Dave’s usual eggs and bacon sit untouched, waiting for your return to enjoy breakfast together.

Dave’s standing in front of the window, looking out at the scenery with his phone to his ear, but the sound of you entering the room has him turning towards you.

His hair is freshly washed, combed up and out of his face. Wearing his favorite blue jeans snug around his hips, a white patterned shirt just barely buttoned to reveal enough of his slightly burnt chest to make your mouth water. It’s his beaming smile, arguably his best accessory, that makes your chest flutter, drawing you in closer to where he’s standing.

“It’s my mother.” He whispers, covering the phone with his hand as she continues to talk into his ear.

Did she find out? Call me when you can, we’ll talk about it then. Still wondering what her vague text message meant.

“Yeah, Mom. She just walked through the door.” You hear her mention your name through the speaker. “My mom says hi.”

“Hi, Carol.” You say sweetly, kissing Dave’s cheek before turning to place your bag on the ground near the dresser, leaning back on the wall, watching Dave as he finishes the rest of the conversation.

“Okay, sounds good…Tell dad hello for us and we’ll talk to you later… Love you, too… bye.” The screen of his phone goes black and he tosses it over to the bed.

Grabbing a glass and some small pills resting on the dresser, closing the short distance to where you’re standing and holding the water and pain reliever out to you.

“I figured your head is probably killing you this morning.” Dave says smiling at you, no sign of annoyance in his face.

“Thanks— Sorry about last night. I don’t know what got into me.” Tossing back the pills back, gulping the water down quickly, your focus on the remaining drops of water sliding down the side of the glass, pooling together at the bottom.

Dave takes the glass from you, setting it over on the top of the dresser. One of his hands settles on your hip as the other tilts your chin up so your gaze is now directed at him.

“Did you have a good walk?” Dave asks. One of his warm hands now cupping the side of your neck, surely he can feel the way your pulse is quickening, elevated just by a simple touch from him.

“Yeah. It was nice— foggy, but beautiful. We should go again before we leave.” Your hands migrate to his shirt, fingers absentmindedly toying with the top abandoned buttons and soft silky fabric.

“Umm— I can smell the smoke on you. It’s fine, I don’t mind that you were— but is everything okay?” He knows, senses something is off, because he knows you don’t just smoke to smoke these days. Senses there’s something that triggered your need for your old vice, something to dull out whatever is silently bothering you.

Yet somehow you have almost forgotten about the cigarette until now when he asks. Feeling a bit of shame for the second time again this morning, though you don’t pick up on any sort of judgment when he does ask about it.

“Everything is fine. Just sounded good so I bought them on my way to the beach— don’t think I’ll even finish the pack though. I’m good.” Liar. You hate the way Dave winces at your answer. He knows there’s something simmering below the surface, but he doesn’t push for more.

“Okay— okay. There’s breakfast here and I was thinking afterwards we could go to some shops or something. I made reservations for tonight at 6, I thought you might want to find something new to wear. Maybe we can grab some lunch near the beach too.” He tells you, brushing off the small specks of sand cemented to your face.

You find yourself on the brink of tears, swallowing the little lump that started to form in your throat. Certain the next few days would be filled with worriment and noiseless vexation. There’s almost relief in hearing how he’s planned out the day, something he hasn’t done in months. Work and meetings always at the forefront of his planning lately, leaving little to no time for dinners or regular weekend getaways.

“Or we can stay in if you want.” His head tilts a little, brown eyes scanning over every detail of your face as you mull over his plans a little longer than he expected.

“No, that sounds nice. I brought some dresses that I can wear though, we don’t have to buy anything.” You shake your head in response. Pushing a few loose strands that had fallen out of place, his eyes closing at the sensation of your fingers combing through his hair.

“We can just look, and if you find something you like we can get it.” Dave suggests— a nice middle ground.

He leans in, his nose knocking against yours, humming as you continue to play with his hair.

“Okay.” You breathe out, his intense eye contact starting to ignite something within you.

“You’re sure everything’s okay?” Offering you another opportunity to bare it all out for him.

His lips graze over yours when he asks, just enough to have you wanting more.

“Yeah. Everything is fine— promise.”

“Alright. Let’s get some food in you and then we can get ready to head out. And there’s coffee—” His thought abandoned, his lips crashing into yours in a passionate kiss.

You eagerly respond, wrapping your arms around his neck as he presses you further into the wall. Your head swirling with want, thrilled at the fact that he’s so keen to give you exactly what you’ve been craving. The scent of his cologne mixed with the musky smell of him fills your senses, making you weak for him even more.

His tongue explores your mouth, tangled together in a heated dance as your bodies grind against each other, arousal growing with each passing moment.

His hands roam freely over your body, stopping at your hips to pull you in even closer has you gasping into his mouth.

“Fuck— Dave!”

“Yeah— that feel good, Baby?” Dave’s hard almost instantly, pressing against you as you slowly grind on him. You're scorching from the friction of your bodies, the coil already winding in your lower abdomen, shivers tingling up your spine.

“Yes!! Oh god, yes!! So good, Dave!” You cry out. The heat between you unbearable, the need for release is all consuming—- more more more.

Dave’s lips fuse to yours again, dragging one hand down between your bodies. He slips under the waistband of your leggings, deft fingers finding the damp fabric of your panties, a sticky mess because of him. He’s enlivened by the way your body writhes as a result of his touch. Fingers circling over your clit in a deliberate frenzied manner, causing you to release a breathy moan into his mouth.

“You think you can come right here? I’m not gonna last much longer.” He says breaking the kiss. His eyes are filled with a burning desire as he looks at you. You nod, encouraging him to continue his ministrations, before he’s capturing your lips again.

You whine at the loss of his fingers moving over your aching bundle of nerves, your body in dire need of his touch now that he’s giving you all of it.

Dave’s hands slip under your top, fingers trailing over your pebbled skin as he pulls it up and over your head. You help him, tossing it aside, leaving you in only your lace bra and bottoms as you lean back against the coolness of the wall, chest heaving with need.

“More— pl-please, I’m almost there. ohfuckyesyesyes!.” His hands explore your body, memorizing every curve and dip with a new surge of want and urgency, his fingers trailing down your back to grip your ass and pulling you closer— sparks of pleasure blazing through you nearing a fiery release.

‘I know baby, I’ve got you’ murmured against your neck, his words riddled with assurance as he sucks on the sensitive skin there.

Your hands grip his shoulders as he continues to explore you with his mouth, caressing every inch of you as he makes his way down to your chest, pulling the fabric of your bra down, his fingers gliding over the tight skin. He cups the weight of your breast in his hand, taking one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, teeth gently nipping as you moan louder and louder, while his other hand fondles and twists at your other side.

“Oh fuck! Baby, I’m gonna come—“ You gasp, arching your back, your nails digging into Dave’s shoulders has him clamping down harder on your overly sensitive nipple. The pleasing painful sting shoots straight to your core, your velvet walls pulsating, your climax within reach.

A pleasurable ache builds for the second time this morning, except this time it’s because of Dave. All your pent up emotions forging together, building into the most magnificent wave of arousal you’ve felt in a long time.

You pull his face up to meet yours, lips messily crashing against his in another bliss driven kiss. His hard cock straining behind the tightness of his jeans, tilting your cunt at the perfect angle while hoping Dave is reaping the benefits of your euphoric pursuit as you grind down on the rough seam of his denim that helps careen you over the edge.

It’s like a dream— except it's not, it’s better. Real and satiating. Your orgasm is forceful as it rips through you, taking every bit of residual tension along with it.

Dave’s movements become faster and more charged. His hips moving in a stuttering pattern— fuckfuckfuck —then stilling as a deep groan barrels through his chest. You wrap a leg around him as he collapses into you, his face nestled in the crook of your neck, holding him tightly to your body.

A breeze blows through the open balcony door, diffusing the layer of sexual haze wafting through the room. The air is welcoming, enveloping your bodies in the crispness that comes with being in close proximity to the Pacific.

It feels lighter. Less suffocating— even with the weight of your husband holding you against the wall. The low lying fog no longer a dense cloud looming over you, allowing the brightness to fully shine through.

The turbulent thoughts have settled, replaced with a mildness that seems more manageable for the time being. Your headache becomes a subsiding dullness, overpowered by the replenishment of a compelling desire.

“Shit— I came in my fucking pants like a goddamn teenager. Couldn’t even make it to the bed.” He says, post sexual vibrato etched into his voice, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone as he lifts himself up to his full height.

Dave’s skin is glowing, a sheen of sweat glistening in the morning light. His cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink, the muscles in his neck flexing as he worked to control his breathing. The silkiness of his shirt now damp and stuck to his chest.

“Hmm. I feel too good to even care. You have no idea how bad I needed that.” You smile at him, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, brushing a few fallen strands of hair away from his face.

The corner of his eyes crinkle. He’s beaming, infatuated with you as he leans in, resting his forehead on yours and whispers, “Do you have any idea how much I love you?.”

“Love you too, Dave.”

#Dave York #dave york x reader #Dave York x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes #pedrostories

270 notes · View notes

blackterrae · 8 months

Text

Ideas for Black!Reader Fic

I am going to try my hand again at writing. And I wanted to share some people and fandoms that I love. If you don’t know these shows/actors/franchises/movies/streamers I’m putting you on! For the following:

Johnny Depp- All his characters

Cameron Monaghan- I know that there are fics out there but it’s only always his Jerome/Jeremiah roles never just him or Cal Kestis

Anthony Carrigan- I loved Anothy as Victor Zsasz

Paul Dano- There are Riddler fics but not as many for his other roles

The Entire Cast of Hawaii Five-0 (2010) - Don’t even get me started on how good this show is! And the cast looks amazing!

Chicago Med/Fire/PD- These shows have so much potential for fanfic storylines!

The Game (2006)- Has great potential for slow burns and fluffs.

Star Wars franchise (1977-present) - I know I said Cal Kestis but there are also other characters like Anakin, Luke, Obi Wan,Boba Fett (etc.)

NCIS franchise- I honestly love this franchise and it’s characters!

Hamilton

Any/All Sports Men- Jude Bellingham,Lewis Hamilton,LaMelo Ball,Allen Iverson(etc.)

Berleezy - He’s handsome and he’s funny!

Coryxkenshin- I literally love him and his videos!

Albert Aretz (Flamingo)- Look … he may be the epitome of mediocre white man but I like what I like!

AMP- Duke Dennis, Kai Cenat, Agent 00, ChrisNxtDoor,Davis, and Fanum ( all I gotta say is love a black man from infinity to infinity🗣️)

Beta Squad- A British YouTube/ streamer group!

SOMEBROS- Berleezy, Rico, ,PG, Joe (etc.)

WWE- come on now, do I even need to explain!!!

Four Brothers- All the cast but Garrett Hedland in particular!

Peacemaker - Don’t get me wrong I love Adrian Chase but I want to see just as much Peacemaker x black!reader fics because 2 words… JOHN CENA

MAWS- New animated Superman show! Love!

Smallville - The entire cast is hot! Tbh I fell hard for Tom Welling when I was younger when he was in Cheaper By The Dozen. Plus they literally whitewashed Vixen. COME ON! Vixen is a black female hero btw. She was also with Jon (Green Lantern) at one point.

Justice League/Justice League Unlimited (2001 and 2004)- I mean I literally can’t find any Jon Stewart x black!reader fics and he was with a BLACK WOMAN!

Warner Bros Franchise (minus the looney tunes & space jam)- There are lots of popular franchises that this company has from Fast & Furious to The Matrix!

Peaky Blinders- Saw a Tommy shelby x arms dealer black!female reader fic on my previous account but even then I couldn’t find it again on that account. So it’s gone with the wind. And the cast (i.e the actors and other characters they’ve portrayed). Example: Cillian Murphy as Johnathan Crane.

The Bear

FBI (All)

Vinnie Hacker

Tiktokers

Blue Bloods

Will Poulter- I haven’t really seen any Adam Warlock fics

Slashers

Stranger Things

Dave Lizewski

Eddie Redmayne

Macgyver (2016)

Fresh Prince of Belair

Guardians of the galaxy- Explanation? Do I really need one?

On My Block

Descendants (characters will be the actors age in real life.duh)- Love Boo-boo Stewart & Mitchell Hope!

Matt Rife

Joey Bragg (Liv &Maddie) - What can I say I love dorks!

The Boys- Haven’t seen that many fics about the characters and a black reader

Once Upon A Time- I love dark fairytales sometimes because they remind me that not every story has a happy ending and you have to learn from them. But this series is good for any theme really.

Walker Texas Ranger (1993)

Top Gun

Magcon: Whether you saw their vines on YouTube or vine, you know who they are

Dolan Twins

Mission Impossible

Euphoria- Entire show has great storylines with the potential of drama in fics

Shameless- Especially Carl Gallagher and Lip Gallagher

Creed- Michael B Jordan need I say more

Keanu Reeves- There are very few fics about Keanu but I’ve seen a few of his John Wick x black!reader fics (chef’s kiss) but never see any of The Matrix Fics!Also Ted (Bill & Ted)

River Phoenix

Batman Beyond

Rider Strong

Danny Gonzalez

Timothée Chalamet

New York Undercover

Past-Present Singers & Rappers/ Groups -Bow Wow, Tupac, Lil Baby, Nelly, Omarion, Prince, Michael Jackson, Jon B,Usher, Central Cee, Måneskin, New Edition, BTS, James Bay(etc.)

Anime(Any kind!)- Would love to see other shows, I know hunterxhunter,aot,one piece (etc.)

Bridgerton- There is very little Bridgerton stories catered around a black reader.

Marvel- Now that’s not to say that there aren’t any in fact there are many but I never see (Tobey Maguire Spider-Man stories and it seems like everyone tends to focus on the famous Marvel characters like The Avengers but not on other aspects like X-men or better yet, heroes that haven’t even gotten their own movie but are just as amazing like Squadron Supreme , it’s equivalent to DCU’s Justice League.

Secret Invasion- Not gonna lie , I’m feening for Gravik.😳

DCEU- Another franchise that pushes its other characters to the side. For example, Hush (Thomas Elliot) is literally the epitome of Bruce Wayne gone bad!

Ross Lynch- There are so many roles that Ross did so well in Like Teen Beach Movie or Sabrina.

Highschool Musical Franchise (2006- present ) I’m not just talking about HSMTS (2019), I mean even further back than that. I don’t see any Troy Bolton x black!reader and that’s crazy. I also can’t find any Zac Efron x black!reader

Interview with a Vampire (1994) and (2022)

Austin Butler- He did well in his role as Elvis!

Vikings - There are a good amount but still!

Transformers

Suits

Saved By The Bell

The Goldbergs

Parks & Recreation

Leverage

The Outsiders

Heart of Stone

New York Undercover (1994)

Addams Family

Victorious

Matpat

ICarly

The Real Bros of Simi Valley (2017)

Think Like A Man (2012)

One on One (2001)

Scorpion (2014)

The King of Queens (1998)

G.I. Joe Franchise

Terminator

Beware the Batman (2013)

Any and all Asian Idols/Actors

Seal Team

Mortal Combat

Bill and Ted

Barbie

Detroit: Become Human

Will Trent

Tokyo Vice

Growing Pains

Graceful Family (Kdrama)[Any Asian Drama shows or movies would be great as well]

The Regime

Batman: The animated series

If anyone needs ideas for these franchises/movies/shows/actors , then holla at me! I got you!

Also add more to the list if anything that you would like to see comes to mind.

Also tag black writers who you want to see this!

@sheabuttahwrites @shinsouscatpisssmell @cocoamoonmalfoy @heathenarmyimagines @cinewhore @cocoamoonmalfoy @stxxllaaa @glitterjuju @lilvampirina @breanime @blackmissfrizzle @afro-hispwriter @stargirlfics @lavenderursa @clydesducktape @pettyprocrastination @theblvckvenus @plantvenuss @punani @n-slayaaaaa @infernalodie @halfofmysoulsblog @iridecsense @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @supremethunda @thekrazykeke @canumoveurseatup-no @hiatuswhore @avintagekiss24 @ohcaptains @iguessweallcrazyithinktho @xsapphirescrollsx @sunflowertuliplily @bakarilennox @batfamily14 @ramp-it-up @blackreaders-assemble @royallyprincesslilly @funnyexel @blackterrae @slashisms @artemisthewh0re @shelbydelrey @toocriticalharlow @v-era-18 @vampsired @queenimmadolla @sinnerlillith @greengoblinswifey @apocalypse-shuffle

197 notes · View notes

theywhowriteandknowthings · 3 months

Text

You can't always get what you want | Chapter 9 of The Princess and The Duke.

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

Summary: Your relationship with Pete grows tense, Nancy meddles, and you wonder if you'll ever get what you want. Maybe you'll get something you need.

You can't always get what you want But if you try sometimes, well, you might find You get what you need

Word Count: 8.4k

Warnings: strained family relationships, abusive parent, threats of physical harm, abuse, mild violence, language, felonies being committed, mild smut, blue balls, angst, shock/dissociation, Police Station/Police Procedures,

Tags:

Author’s notes: Co-written by @angelofsmalldeath-codeine. Things aren’t getting easy quick, sorry/not sorry. The angst and drama will end, we promise. Follow @vi-notifs and turn on notifications for updates when new content drops!

[AO3 link]

<- Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

“Pete, I gotta stop,” you wheeze as you double over, stepping off the path and onto the grass of the park. Your lungs burn as you suck in large gasps of frigid air. Texas may be warmer than New York this time of year, but you had a gym membership there. Now you’re being forced to run, outdoors, in the winter.

“Come on, we’ve barely started,” Peter goads you as he jogs back towards you. You look up and groan as you straighten up.

“We’ve been jogging for an hour, Peter, I don’t do cardio, you know that.”

“Well, you should probably start, it’s good for you.”

“I understand the need for cardiovascular fitness, Pete,” you grumble as you glare at him, “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Fine, let’s call it a day then,” Peter sighs dramatically but you know there’s no malice behind it. You’re pretty sure he’s just thrilled you even said yes in the first place.

“Shower back at mine, then get some lunch?”

“Oh, does this mean I finally get to see this new apartment of yours?”

“It’s been two days, Pete. You make it sound like I’ve shut you out intentionally.”

“Ash has seen your new place,” he says with a pout as you stroll back, arm in arm as you try and leech some body heat from him.

“Ash also helped me move in,” you point out with a nudge to his ribs.

“Sorry I’m not privileged enough to take a whole afternoon off to help you move, who moves on a Monday anyway?”

“Yeah? And who has random Wednesdays off to go jogging?” You throw back at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“You try being an ER nurse, I am at the mercy of the shift chart. I cherish my days off where I can get them,” he shoots you a glare and you concede defeat with a sheepish grin.

“It was all very last minute, I’m sorry,” you say as you stroll down the street, only a few blocks away from your apartment now.

“I wasn’t fishing for an apology,” Pete squeezes your arm, “But thank you.”

“I know, you’re not precious, but I do know I’ve been spending more time with Ash lately and I am sorry if you’ve felt left out.”

“Bitch, are you dying? Where’s this coming from?”

You laugh as Pete teases you. You’ve missed this.

“Note to self don’t be nice to Pete, ever again.”

“Ok, I deserved that,” he says with a scoff as you reach the stairs leading up to your building, “Damn this is nice!”

“Yeah, I got the rent cheap because of that double homicide last year,” you say with a shrug as you head up the steps.

“That was your place?” Peter steps back onto the curb and you groan as you look down at him from the stoop.

“Pete, please,” you rub your hand over your jaw in frustration, “Not you too.”

“You definitely have ghosts,” Pete responds with an indiscernible look on his face, “That’s fucking sweet.”

Pete bounds up the stairs and practically vibrates next to you as you shake your head. You unlock the door and check your post, as he hovers over your shoulder.

“So, have you had any paranormal events yet?”

“No, Pete, ghosts aren’t real,” you almost wish he was as superstitious as Ash, “Besides, what would that even look like?”

“I don’t know.” Pete sighs dramatically as if you’re spoiling his fun, “Cupboard doors opening on their own, cold spots, fuzzy lighting?”

“Pete, those things happen daily, I’m living in an apartment building, in Austin, with a corporate landlord.”

“That’s what they want you to think, it’s all about subverting-,”

You’re making your way to the kitchen when you hear the sharp intake of breath from Peter. You half expect him to be pointing to the corner of the room, imagination running wild at something invisible there. He is pointing to something in the room, mouth agape as you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Tell me you haven’t sat on these chairs?”

“Why wouldn’t I use furniture in my own home, Pete?”

“Because these are antiques!” He looks at you like you’ve just kicked a puppy.

“Pete, Dave said I could take whatever I needed, he didn’t mention anything about antiques.”

You shrug defensively as you meet his murderous gaze.

“Bitch, your sugar daddy stepdad gave you over eight Gs of pristine nineteenth century furniture,” he cocks an eyebrow at you, “And you don’t even know what you have?”

“I’m not an antique nerd, sue me,” you shrug as you fill two glasses of water and place them on the counter before heading to your bedroom ensuite. You try not to let his comment about Dave get under your skin, but it stings.

“Did your fancy law education in New York not teach you anything? Or did y’all just have IKEA furniture to snort your coke off?”

“Jesus, Pete,” you snap, “I didn’t do that shit. And no, funnily enough I was negotiating contracts worth more than a billion dollars a pop. I didn’t have time to have hobbies, or addictions.”

“I’m just being a salty bitch,” he grumbles as his face softens, “I want a sugar daddy that will buy me antiques.”

“He’s not my sugar daddy Pete, can you cut that out?” you say as you gesture towards your bedroom, “I’m jumping in the shower, can we talk properly about it over lunch?”

“Sure,” Pete says, his face pensive as you turn towards your bedroom.

You shower quickly and pull on some loose sweatpants and Dave’s USMC hoodie without thinking. You pad back into the open plan space to see Pete leaning against the counter, swiping through something on his phone.

“Alright, shower’s free,” you say, breaking Pete from his doom scrolling.

“I won’t be long.”

Pete waltzes into your ensuite and you can’t help but smile as he starts to sing.

~*~

“You got eyes on her?” Dave speaks into the concealed earpiece as he sits at his desk at the office. Each screen is set up to monitor two separate sets of surveillance feeds. The right one cycling through downtown Austin, where Nancy has been circling the same block for the past hour. He’d caught a glimpse of you and Pete in the neighborhood, missing Nancy by a few minutes as you’d ventured further into the city.

He tries not to think about it, because he knows exactly what street Nancy is on. If his suspicions prove true, she’s trying to find where you live. It feels like a betrayal, he’s tried so hard to keep his distance. He’s not once asked for your address, purposefully keeping things vague when you have spoken.

Now he fears Nancy is about to throw all that hard work away.

The other screen is locked in on an industrial lot on the far side of town. A black SUV is parked in a side street, the target arrived last night and hasn’t shown signs of movement since. Dave’s focus is divided, and he knows it. Anxiety claws at the back of his mind as he tries to manage both situations unfolding in front of his very eyes.

“Nancy’s just slipped into a building, boss,” Ari’s voice comes back in his ear, “Resnik must have given her the address.”

“He’s not that stupid,” Dave growls but doubt worries at the back of his mind. He’s been chasing Resnik for the most recent set of photos and there’s still no sign of them.

“Maybe not, but she’s gone inside an apartment building. Do you want me to get a closer look? Assess the situation?”

Dave sighs, a gust of frustration billowing from his flared nostrils as he pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Do it,” He snaps as he notices movement on the other surveillance feed, “I need you to handle this Ari, we just went hot.”

Dave ends the call before patching back through to Kovak.

“You seeing this?” Dave asks as he minimizes Nancy’s surveillance feed, pulling up street level CCTV to replace it. He must be focused now, one slip up and this could go south quick.

“Yep, target’s on the move,” Kovak confirms as Dave nods to himself.

“Tail him, I’ve got eyes on street cams, the moment he stops I need you on him like a rash.”

“Got it, boss,” Kovak says, the sound of his engine starting as he begins to follow the SUV.

Dave watches as Kovak’s small hatchback comes into view on the CCTV. Of all the team, Dave trusts Kovak the most. He’s efficient, details oriented, and most of all someone Dave would consider a friend.

“Stay safe out there, happy hunting.” Dave says with finality before settling into his position as overwatch.

~*~

Nancy loiters across the street from your apartment building, her phone out as she flicks through the digital copies of the photos the PI sent over last night. She seethes at the images of the movers taking the furniture up into your apartment building. The loveseat and chairs were supposed to be hers, when she eventually divorced Dave. She was going to take him for everything she could.

But she puts her bitterness aside, looking between your building and the next unit over. She’s eighty percent sure she has the right place. The building number was obscured in all of the photos, but the steps and entryway look right.

She taps her foot, sure enough of the building, but still doesn’t know how she’s going to gain entry now. She flits across the road, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a Door Dash cyclist and leaps up the steps, immediately she finds the building’s intercom.

She smirks at the fresh label for apartment 2B. Your initial and last name spelled out for her. She tries the door but is met with resistance as the magnetic lock holds firm. She curses under her breath until she sees the USPS van pull up down the street.

Nancy pretends to rummage in her bag, huffing and puffing as she waits for the postal worker to ascend the steps. The man pays her no mind as he buzzes the Super’s office. There’s a brief exchange through the intercom before the telltale drone of the lock being deactivated sounds.

“I just found my keys,” Nancy laughs aloud, jangling her own house keys in triumph at the disinterested postal worker. She sneers at his back as he pulls out the mail for the building, paying Nancy no attention as he goes about his business.

“Have a lovely day!”

Nancy shouts at him as he leaves, waiting for him to close the door behind him before slinking over to the mailboxes. She sees yours, apartment 2B, and sees the corner of a manila envelope sticking up in the mail slot. Nancy can’t help herself; she thrusts her hand into the slot and gently eases out the envelope.

“Texas Board of Law Examiners,” she reads aloud as she sees the inked seal printed on the top corner of the envelope, “What are you up to?”

She tears open the letter as she ascends the stairs, she snorts to herself at the bundle of documentation. It’s the approval to have your Universal Bar Examination transferred from New York to Texas. She stuffs the paperwork back into the envelope, filing it away mentally to use against you later.

She reaches your apartment door, trying the handle just in case, but it’s locked. She searches under your doormat and on the top of the doorframe for a spare key but finds nothing.

“Guess we’re doing this the hard way,” Nancy smirks to herself as she gets out a screwdriver and a hammer from her purse.

~*~

You throw down your cutlery in triumph as you finish up your meal, Peter is still pushing his salad around his plate as he mopes over his phone.

“Pete,” you groan as you hail the waiter over to get the check, “Stop being such a clingy bitch, he’s at work, not shagging his assistant.”

“You don’t know that” Peter narrows his eyes at you as he locks his phone, “I just haven’t had a connection like this before, he makes me crazy.”

“You were crazy before Alex,” you raise your eye as you kick him gently under the table, “What’s really got you strung out?”

Peter scowls at you for a moment before sighing and seemingly conceding defeat to your withering gaze.

“I’m going to propose,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper and your eyes go wide as you try not to scream in delight. You know Peter will kill you if you make a scene in public.

“Fucking hell, Pete. How long have you even been together?”

“Like six months,” he says with a grimace, but you shake your head, your cheeks hurting from how hard you’re smiling.

“Have you picked out a ring?” You ask as you hand the waiter your card, Peter goes to protest but you shake your head, “My treat, I’ve made a lot in tips this month.”

“Thank you,” Pete’s face softens, and his eyes are glassy, “I’ve got a few options, I wanted to see if you would come ring shopping with me?”

“Of course, when?” You’re practically vibrating in your seat as you try and contain the excitement.

“Next weekend? Saturday?”

“Deal, holy shit, Pete,” you say with a sigh, “Who would have thought swinging-dick Peter would be the first of us ladies to settle down?”

“Oh, shut up, you’d be settling down if you weren’t thirsting over your stepdad.”

“Pete, come on,” you slump back in your seat, “It’s not like that, can we just celebrate you right now?”

“You said we’d talk about it properly over lunch. Here we are, so what’s there to even say?”

You suck on your teeth, trying to fight the urge to snap at him.

“Dave’s not some creep preying on his stepdaughter,” you say, knowing he’s not going to back down on it this time so you might as well get it all out in the open, “I care about him, Pete. It’s not about some kink, or the money. I like him for him, and I believe he feels the same way.”

“I’m just saying,” Pete says with his hands raised, “semantics aside, it’s still creepy. He knew where you were on your birthday, came storming up to us like a man possessed. He just gives me a vibe and I’m not into the whole stepcest thing either, hun. Even if it was juicy to watch Mike almost piss himself.”

“After almost getting fucking,” you lower your tone as you lean forward, “gang-raped a few months ago, I’m not exactly pissed that he came looking for me when I was vulnerable. He’s in some government department, Pete, he has to keep tabs on his family.”

Pete raises an eyebrow at you and cocks his head to the side.

“Exactly, his family.”

“Do you know what?” You snap, your chest tight with shame and embarrassment, “You seem to have made your mind up already. I don’t know why I bothered. This is some Nancy level judgement, Pete. I expected better from you.”

“Babe, that’s not-,” Pete starts but you cut him off. You can’t shake the truth from his words, it’s the rot at your core you’ve been ignoring for months. But it doesn’t take the sting out of it, if anything it festers deeper as you’re forced to confront it “I don’t want to hear it Pete, not now. I’ll see you around,” you snap as you storm out of the restaurant, tears running down your cheeks as you step out onto the sidewalk.

You power walk home, ignoring the incessant buzzing of your phone in your pocket. You know it’ll just be Pete, or Ash, and you just want to be alone. Somewhere in the back of your mind you think you’re overreacting, but Pete blindsiding you like that set you off. It’s the kind of shit Nancy pulls all the time, and for one of your supposed best friends to do it to you cuts deep.

You storm through the door to the foyer, not bothering to check the mailbox as you ascend the stairs two at a time. You’re about to fish your keys out of your sweatpants when you see the damage to the doorframe. The dark paint splintered, with jagged slivers of wood jutting out where the catch once was.

You feel like you’ve been doused with cold water as you step back against the wall behind you. You fumble to retrieve your phone, ignoring the multiple missed text messages and calls from Ash and Peter. You pull up Dave’s contact and hit call. It immediately diverts to voicemail, you call again. Voicemail. Your lip trembles as you try to decide what to do. You contemplate calling Ash, but you don’t want to have to deal with her guilt tripping you over Pete, not today.

“I’m calling the police,” you call into the apartment as you knock it open with the toe of your shoe. You wait for a response before dialing 911.

“Oh, honey,” your mother’s voice echoes from inside and you freeze, “It’s just me.”

“What are you doing here?” You ask, voice low as you slowly make your way into the apartment. You keep your phone in one hand, keys held tightly in the other.

“I just thought I’d stop by and see your new place, I see Dave helped you out,” she says with a huff as she nods at the love seat and armchairs.

Nancy is leaning against your kitchen counter, fingertips drumming on the surface. A bright smile plastered across her face. You note the claw hammer protruding from her purse and your stomach churns. One arm is held behind her back, like she’s trying to hide something from you.

“How’d you know I had a new place? How’d you get my address? And Dave just let me take some stuff from his storage locker, he doesn’t even know where I live,” you say with as little accusation in your voice as you can muster. You know this look, the smile that hides the rage so well. Nancy is livid and you stop yourself from asking if she’s had anything to drink.

“Oh, I just asked around, shame Dave gave you these. I was going to make sure I got them in the settlement,” she says cheerily and steps forward, closing the distance between you and you take an instinctive step back.

“And the door?” You tilt your head over to the door.

“Oh, it was like that when I got here, nasty neighborhood you’re living in,” she says without a moment’s hesitation. You might have believed her if not for the evidence sitting pretty in her purse.

“Mom,” you groan, “please leave, I’ve had an awful day and I just want to be alone right now.”

“So, what is this?” She ignores your question, producing the envelope from behind her back and your jaw tightens.

“You went through my mail?” You hiss, rage building inside you as you feel the last tethers of restraint snap.

“Oh, don’t be like that, I did it all the time when you were growing up,” Nancy waves you off, pulling out the paperwork and pretending to read over it.

“Put that down.” You snarl, your fists balling at your sides as you try not to completely lose your shit.

“No.” Nancy looks at you, all pretense of kindness and motherly instinct gone in a flash as she holds your gaze, “You need to admit you’re fucking Dave, on record, because I’m divorcing him and you’re going to help me take him for every penny he has.”

“What?” You ask, dumbfounded as you try and fathom the depth of her derangement.

“You heard me,” she snaps, toying with the corners of each sheet of paper with her manicured fingertips, “Help me take him down, and I won’t shred your application, I know how much this stuff costs. Anders paid for your New York ones after all. What did you do to get Dave to pay for these? Let him fuck your ass? I never did let him do that.”

“Fuck mom, I don’t need to know what you let Dave do to you or not. I paid for these myself,” you say, jaw clenched as you hit dial on your phone.

“I call bullshit, there’s no way you’re not fucking him. You’re wearing that god awful hoodie of his for Christ’s sake, I’m not blind. Are you just using him for his money, or are you doing all this just to slight me?”

“Slight you?” You almost laugh, “I don’t need to do anything to slight you, Nancy. You've made it clear that I do that by just existing. Get out of my apartment, now.”

“What did you just call me?” Nancy snaps and you see her bravado falter.

“Look, I won’t do it, divorce him for all I care, but don’t you dare bring me into it,” you say as you hear the call handler ask what your emergency is.

“My mother has broken into my apartment; she has a hammer and I fear for my safety.”

“Are you in immediate danger?” You hear the dispatcher ask and you suck in a deep breath.

“You wouldn’t dare?” Nancy screeches as her face morphs into a mask of desperation, “I’m sorry, forget I said anything. Here, have the forms.”

“I am, please send help.”

She tries to crowd you, practically throwing the papers into your hands but you shake your head at her. You give your name and address to the call handler before looking Nancy in the eye.

“It’s too late for sorry, Nancy,” you spit, stepping further into the apartment, “I’m not a child anymore, you can’t use me like this.”

“You ungrateful bitch,” Nancy snaps and you barely dodge the slap that comes flying at you. You stumble back, clutching your phone for dear life as you stumble towards your bedroom. You can hear Nancy calling from the kitchen, but you throw open the bathroom door, locking it behind you.

You slump down onto the floor and cry, deep, throaty sobs that wrack your whole body. All you can do now is wait, and hope Nancy doesn’t rip down this door too.

“Miss? Are you still there?” You hear the muffled voice of the dispatcher and bring the phone back to your ear.

“Yes, I’m here, I’ve locked myself in the bathroom,” you respond between ragged breaths as you close your eyes.

“Stay on the line with me, ok? I’ve got officers on the way to you now.”

~*~

“Kovak, sitrep.”

Dave’s eyes burn as he rakes over the surveillance feeds, the SUV entered a parking garage ten minutes ago. Something is off and he knows it.

“Found the car boss,” Kovak’s voice rumbles in Dave’s ear, and he can already hear the disappointment in his teammates tone.

“Abandoned?” Dave asks, already knowing the answer.

“Affirmative,” Kovak says dryly, “Next move?”

“Return to the office; we need to regroup.” Dave sighs as he lets out a heavy sigh. He’s sweaty, tired, and most of all furious that he lost the target. It’s been weeks since the last sighting and this was the best shot they had of getting him.

“See you back at the ranch, boss.” Kovak signs off and Dave takes out his earpiece before throwing it into the top drawer of his desk.

He looks at the time and groans. It feels like hours have passed, but it’s only two in the afternoon. He fishes his phone out of his pants and his heart rate skyrockets as he sees the missed calls from you. He pulls up the security feed from where Nancy was last seen, and he curses at the scene before him.

Three police cars and an ambulance are parked in front of the apartment building, a crowd has gathered around where the police cordoned the area. He feels his blood run cold. Immediately he calls you, but it goes to voicemail. He dials Ari instead.

“Boss?” Ari answers on the third ring.

“What the fuck is going on down there?” He snarls into the handset as he shrugs on his suit jacket, already shutting down his computer.

“Shitshow, boss, you get our guy?” Ari asks, and Dave almost snaps at him but just manages to keep his cool as he locks his office door behind him.

“No, what’s going on, Ari? Details, now.”

“Nancy showed up around lunch time, the girl an hour or so later. Next thing I know the police are here.”

“Was it just my fucking wife? No one else?”

“Just her, but it can’t be good, boss,” Ari says and Dave sighs, he knows Ari can’t get anywhere near the building right now.

“Alright, thanks, Ari. I’ll be there soon.”

“I’d hurry, you might miss your wife being taken out in cuffs.”

Dave smiles to himself at the mental image before hitting the stairs, he’s too anxious to wait in an elevator.

~*~

“Open the door you, fucking bitch,” Nancy wails as you feel her assaulting the door with her whole body.

You’re braced against it, your feet planted firmly on the tiled floor, as you desperately try to keep her out. Your body aches. You’ve been talking with the dispatcher for the whole time, but topics of conversation are wearing thin.

“Officers are arriving on scene any minute now, stay put.”

You don’t have time to thank the dispatcher before Nancy launches into yet another tirade.

“First you fuck my husband, now you call the cops on me. What kind of a daughter are you?”

You don’t answer, she can’t have any proof that you and Dave have slept together, but you don’t know what you could say to appease her right now. Your mind is focused on just surviving, not letting Nancy through the door. There’s nothing else you can concentrate on. “Police!” You hear the shout from beyond the door, followed by a yelp from Nancy.

“Hello, officers, what can I do-?”

“Get on the ground, hands behind your head.” The officer barks and you slump back against the door.

“The officers have arrived, they’re dealing with her now,” you say in a hushed voice to the dispatcher, your body is tense as you wait out the standoff.

“Stay put until an officer gives you the ‘all clear’, ok?”

“I will.”

You hear the static snap and chittering of a taser being deployed before the dull thud of a body hitting the floor. You can’t help but let yourself smile at the image of Nancy being tasered on the other side of the door.

You hear the officers on the other side of the door as they maneuver Nancy’s unconscious form. A soft knock at the door startles you and you haul yourself up onto your feet.

“Is she gone?” You call through the door.

“She’s being taken to the patrol car, she’s out cold. You can come out if you want?” The female officer informs you.

“Ok I’m coming out,” you say, both to the officer and into the handset.

“I’ll leave you with the officers on the scene, take care,” the dispatcher says, and you thank her before pocketing your phone.

You open the door gingerly, eyes flitting around the room to check that Nancy was really gone.

“You got someone you can call? We’ve got an EMT on their way up, so stay put. We’ll need to take your statement down at the station too.” The officer asks and you nod, you’re pulling your phone back out when a call comes in.

Dave

You answer without hesitation.

“Fuck. I’m so glad you called.”

“I’ve been calling you nonstop, kept going to voicemail,” Dave’s voice is close in your ear, and you feel the rush of serotonin flow through you. It’s like he’s already there, anchoring you.

“I was on the phone to the police,” you say with an exasperated huff.

“You ok? What’s happening?” Dave asks and you hear the distorted rumble of his Mustang in the background.

“They’re waiting on an EMT to come check me over, Nancy broke in and started making threats. They’ll want me to make a statement down at the station.” You say as your voice breaks a little, the severity of the situation finally catching up with you. You’re following the officer out of your room when you see the shredded pile of paperwork at the foot of your bed. The Texas Board of Law Examiners logo is visible, confirming that it was the paperwork Nancy claimed it to be.

Way to go mom, adding mail theft to your rap sheet.

You think to yourself as you make your way to one of the armchairs.

“What’s your address? I’m coming to help.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’s already trying to bully me into helping her take you down,” you say as vaguely as possible.

“I don’t care,” Dave says with conviction, and you close your eyes. You’re too tired to argue, and the offer is too tempting. You need him, now more than ever. You give him the address as you set yourself down on one of the armchairs in the main room. An EMT appears in the doorway and makes a beeline for you once the officers let him in.

“EMT is here,” you say absently as you feel your last reserves of adrenaline ebb from your body, “I need you.”

“I’m coming, hold on.”

“I’ve got to go, thank you for helping me, Dave.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m a few minutes out, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The EMT checks for any obvious wounds, asks if you’re hurting anywhere. You say you’re fine, you let him check you over for concussion. He asks where you are, what your address is, standard triage as you comply numbly.

You hear a commotion from the hallway and turn towards the door. The moment you see him your resolve shatters. Your eyes are wet with tears and his face falls in despair. His soft brown eyes are wide, his mouth pursed into a thin line as he looks you over.

“Dave.”

“I’m here,” he says softly as he flashes his badge at the officer at the door.

“Sir, we need to take her to the station. Are you her boyfriend?” The male officer from before says as Dave steps over the threshold.

“I’m family,” he says, and you note the strain in his voice.

“We need to take her down to the station, sir.”

“I’ll take her, 5th precinct, yeah?”

“Yes, sir,” the officer confirms and Dave nods.

“Alright, come on, we’ll get this over and done with, together.”

The drive to the station goes by in a blur, Dave doesn’t press you to talk. You barely register the fact that he’s on the phone, talking to someone about counsel. You don’t notice you have arrived until he guides you by the arm into the precinct. As he hands you over to the detectives on duty, he reminds you not to speak to anyone until you’ve got legal counsel.

You’re sat at a desk in the middle of an open plan room – you vaguely remember it’s called a bullpen – as you wait for the detective to come see you. Your head feels like it’s floating, your body slumped as you try and stay focused, but everything just feels off. Your fingers don’t feel your own as you flex and bend them in front of your face.

“Miss?”

You look up to see a woman, not much older than you, hovering at your elbow. You smile absently at her and wonder why she’s bothering you. There’s a nagging at the back of your mind, you’re in a police station, something happened.

“We need to talk about what happened,” the woman says as she takes a seat next to you. You like her necklace. You fixate on the silver Tree of Life hanging around her neck as she speaks.

“Can you tell me why you called the police?”

“I don’t know, I-?”

“Not another word,” Dave’s voice booms from over your shoulder and you look up to see his face stony, “Her legal counsel is on the way, she isn’t saying anything else until they arrive.”

“She’s not under arrest, Mr-,”

“Special Agent York, CIA,” Dave cuts her off as he pulls his coat to the side, revealing his badge as he looks down at the detective.

“Agent York,” the detective glowers up at him, “respectfully, why is the CIA even involved here?”

“That,” Dave says with a click of his tongue, “is above your pay grade.”

“Dave?” You say softly as you shudder from a sudden chill, “when can I go home?”

“Soon,” he says, his face softening the moment he catches your gaze, “Here, I’ve got to go speak to the Watch Sergeant, if your counsel – Jimmy – arrives before I’m back, you can trust him, ok?”

“You are coming back through, right?” Your voice is meek and wavering. Something deep within you resents how pathetic you sound, but you don’t have any energy to truly care.

“Of course,” he says softly as he takes his jacket off, draping it over your shoulders, “I’m just upstairs. I’ll make sure someone brings you some coffee, ok?”

“Ok,” you nod as you slip your arms into the sleeves, immediately pulling the fabric around you. You smell like Dave, fresh perspiration, his spiced body wash, it grounds you. Dave leaves without another word and you watch him go.

“He’s a protective one, isn’t he?” The female detective asks, and you nod slowly. She’s pretty, with long dark hair and soft brown eyes. Her suit is tailored and her heels low. Focusing on her seems to help you come back to your senses a little.

“He’s a good man,” you respond with a nod as you bury your nose in the collar of the jacket. You don’t want to be here, you just want Dave, you want to go home.

“So, who is he to you?”

“I’m not saying anything without legal counsel present,” you say, eyes narrowing as you try and figure out her angle. The familiarity of the legal process bringing you back to yourself a little more. The sound of the bullpen is suddenly loud in your ears. You can hear telephones ringing off the hook, the smell of coffee and fried food invades your senses.

“Alright,” she puts her hands up, “I was just trying to make conversation, you don’t have to do everything the CIA agent says, you know?”

“I know,” you say firmly as you sit up straight, “I may be the victim here, but I’m not jeopardizing my case by saying anything until my counsel’s here.”

“Clever girl, you watch a lot of Law and Order?” She scoffs and if it were anyone else, you’d have probably laughed along. But the comment stings at your already bruised ego, and you’re done being talked down to.

“Actually, I was an attorney in New York up until last year, about to transfer my UBE to Texas.”

“I see,” the detective frowns before shrugging and sitting behind her desk.

“Coffee for you, miss,” a young police officer addresses you and hands you an oatmeal and raisin cookie and a to-go cup of coffee, “Agent York said you might be hungry too. This is all I could get from the vending machine.”

“That’s wonderful,” you peer at his name badge, “Thank you, Officer Jameson.”

“My pleasure,” the officer says with a grin before leaving.

You sit there, sipping on the poor excuse for coffee in your hands as you toy with the wrapper of the cookie. You know you should eat but you’re just not hungry. Your name is called from behind you, and you turn to see a sharply dressed man approach you. His maroon suit is designer, his steely hair perfectly slicked-back, his wingtips strike the bullpen floor like punctuation.

“Morello, I trust you haven’t been too chatty with my client? Coercing her to talk without counsel present is a low blow, even for you.”

“O’Hare,” Morello says, her expression hardening as she looks between you both, “you know I’d never even dream of it.”

“Sure, sure.” Jimmy rolls his eyes at the detective, “I need a room with my client, no cameras, no two-way windows. Complete privacy.”

“Captain’s out all day, could use her office, you know where it is,” The detective huffs as she turns to her computer, pretending to look busy.

“Always a pleasure, Morello. I’ll let you know when we’re ready to talk,” Jimmy says, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he turns to face you, “Follow me, I know this place a little too well.”

“You friends with Dave?” You ask as you do as instructed, you have to work to keep up with Jimmy’s long strides.

“Something like that,” he laughs at the notion, “We’ve known each other for a very long time.”

“Did you serve together?” You ask as he leads you upstairs, gaining a few wary glances from the officers on duty. You reach the captain’s office, and he pauses, knocking twice and waiting a moment before cracking the door open.

“Not exactly,” Jimmy says as he ducks his head into the room, “Come on, this shouldn’t take us long.”

“You sure we can use this room?” You ask hesitantly as you linger on the threshold.

“Oh no, we most definitely shouldn’t be using it. Felicia will kill me if she knows I used her office like this,” Jimmy laughs as he flops down on a sofa to the left of the door, “Morello could have sealed off a break room for us, but she likes to fuck with me.”

“Who are you really?” You ask as you settle on an armchair opposite him. You put down your coffee and untouched cookie on the low coffee table before clasping your hands in front of you, propping your elbows on your knees.

“I’m Jimmy O’Hare, lead partner at O’Hare, Schmidt, and Bowles,” his answer rolls off his tongue, a rehearsed response.

“And I’m to believe you,” you gesture at him up and down, “a prestigious law firm’s partner is just going to waltz in and take my measly B&E, and assault case on? There must be hundreds of these cases daily in the city of Austin alone.”

“True, but most people aren’t Dave York’s stepdaughter.”

Your stomach lurches at the reminder of your relationship and you bite your tongue to stop yourself from lashing out. You’re still too raw from your argument with Peter.

“Surprised you’re not in there with my mom if that’s the tenuous link between us,” you scoff and you notice the way Jimmy’s lips twitch at the mention of Nancy.

“I think you know why Dave sent me to help you,” he says knowingly as he points to your chest. You look down, mortified as you remember you still have Dave’s hoodie on. You try not to react but your eyes narrow at the thinly veiled accusation. You cringe internally as you realize you’re also wrapped in his suit jacket.

“Enough,” you say, your voice sounding stronger than you expected it to, “We need to get this airtight and I want to go home.”

“Suits me just fine, let’s go through the timeline of events, walk me through it.”

You sigh and rub your sweaty palms on your sweatpants before relaying the events to Jimmy as best you can. It takes less than twenty minutes before he’s finishing up his notes.

“And the documentation you mentioned, you said it was your confirmation to transfer your UBE?”

“Correct,” you confirm, eager to be done with this.

“So, it’s a Class A misdemeanor, there are fines and prison time is almost certain, especially with the other felonies and misdemeanors she collected today,” Jimmy says and you’re nodding along almost mechanically as you try and work through this last part.

“Ok, I want to file for a Protective Order, we should be able to get one on the grounds of stalking, and violence, right?”

“I was just about to suggest a PO,” Jimmy nods, taking down a few more notes on his legal pad, “She’ll probably make bail, so it’s in your best interest to get one. Between the 911 call recording and the screwdriver and claw hammer, we’ve got a solid case for one.”

“Ok, are we done here?”

“I just need you to read over and sign this statement, then we can drop it off with the detectives before getting your photos taken. I should have you out of here in less than an hour.”

“Great,” you say as you take the statement from him, you scan it quickly before signing and handing it back over.

“Sure you gave that enough due care and attention before signing?” Jimmy asks with a skeptical twitch of his brow.

“Jimmy,” you sigh, “Can I call you Jimmy?” He nods and you continue, “I’m not stupid, you’re clearly very good at this, and Dave has hired you to help me. I also used to skim read case bundles on the subway on my way to court. I know what to look for and how to make a case. If I took longer to review it, I’d be a pretty average attorney. I’m better than that, and you know it.”

“Dave warned me about your smart mouth,” Jimmy chuckles, and he nods approvingly, “Alright, let's get this show on the road.”

“Smart mouth? I think you meant to say competent?” you sass back at Jimmy and his face lights up, but he says nothing more.

The next hour and a half go by in a blur. You answer follow up questions from Morello, Jimmy interjecting when needed, and get your photos taken. There’s still no sign of Dave as you finish up with the evidence team. Your phone is dead and you’re about to ask Jimmy to call you a cab when you see Dave come through the double doors that lead to the bullpen.

“There you are,” Dave says, his smile radiant as he sees you, “Jimmy, thanks for this. I really appreciate you dropping everything and helping out.”

“It’s no problem, you pay well, and I owe you at least another hundred favors. It was the least I could do.”

Dave nods and pulls the older man into a tight embrace. They separate with a curt nod and Jimmy makes for the exit.

“Oh, and kid?” He calls over his shoulder, looking at you as he goes, “When you’re licensed to practice in Texas, give me a call. Dave’s got my number.”

“You bet!” You call after him before turning to look at Dave. The sight takes your breath away. His hair is messy, disarrayed from where he’s been running his fingers through it all afternoon. His sleeves are rolled up, his top few buttons undone, you can see the glisten of sweat on his brow. All you want to do is reach out and kiss him, pull him against you and fuse your lips to his.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” He says softly and you let out a sigh of relief. You walk out together into the frigid air, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint to stop yourself from taking his hand in yours. Instead, you opt to bury your nose in the fabric of his suit jacket.

The ride home is quiet, but you don’t mind, Dave parks in your designated bay around back and you are reminded that you need to get your own car soon. He ushers you through the door while he calls your super about the broken doorframe, telling you not to worry and to go and shower.

You shower and change into a pair of loose cotton shorts and Dave’s hoodie. Your bare feet pad noiselessly as you make your way back into the main room of the apartment.

“Thank you, yes, we’ll both be here,” Dave says down the phone before hanging up. He sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose, not yet noticing you.

“Was that about the door?” You ask, and immediately Dave’s eyes snap open. His gaze lingers and you see the way he swallows, the bob of his Adam’s apple.

“Yeah, they’re sending the maintenance guy out first thing tomorrow, told us to just wedge it shut for now.”

“That’s safe,” you say with a roll of your eyes as you settle down on the loveseat. You rest against the arm of the chair, bringing your feet up onto the cushion as you rest your chin on your knees.

“I can sleep on the couch, if that’ll make you feel better?” Dave says almost a little too quickly before clearing his throat, “Sorry that was a little forward, if you don’t want me to stay here with you, I can get you a hotel room? That way you are safe, and I can be here tomorrow for deal with the maintenance guy.”

“I want you to stay,” you say as you try not to laugh at Dave’s bashfulness.

“Only if you’re sure?” He says as he crosses the open plan room, you can see the hesitation in his face as he lingers at the other end of the loveseat, unsure if he can sit or not.

“I’m sure, sit with me, please?”

Dave lowers himself down onto the couch and you fight the urge to nudge his thigh with your feet.

“Dave?” your voice is barely more than a whisper as you look at him through your lashes.

“Yeah?” He answers as he leans back, eyes closed as he rolls his shoulders.

“Nancy said something today,” you say softly, “I don’t know if it’s my place to tell you, but she all but said she was going to file for divorce.”

Dave says nothing but he lets out a heavy exhale, his entire body shuddering as he seems to sink further into the sofa.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” you say as you shrink back against the armrest, you wait for the scolding remark. You brace yourself for the reprimand for bringing such a difficult topic up. Your walls come up like armor as you wait for the inevitable sting of rejection.

“Hey,” Dave’s voice is low, and you blink away unshed tears as you realize you’ve curled up, away from him on the sofa, “What’s wrong, what did I do?” He asks and you look up into his dark eyes.

“Nothing,” you mutter, the guilt and shame bubbling inside you like a festering wound, “I’m just dealing with a lot right now.”

“Talk to me,” Dave says as he turns towards you, one arm stretched out over the back of the sofa. It’s a silent invitation, welcoming you. It feels like home, “Let me help.”

You close the distance between your bodies, pressing into his side, just like the night in the basement after Tristan. You keep your hands balled, tight against your chest, not trusting yourself to hold him. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in tight as he rests his head against your own.

“This helps,” you murmur into his chest as you take a deep inhale, “Thank you.”

Slowly your hand creeps over his chest, sliding up to his shoulder as you anchor yourself to him. It’s innocuous enough, you just want to feel him, but you know it’s not enough, you want more. You pull back and look up at Dave, his dark eyes searching yours.

His lips are parted as his eyes flit from your mouth and back up to your eyes. There’s an unmistakable energy between you now, something you’ve both repressed for a long time. You tilt your head up, your lips almost touching his as you beg him silently to close the distance.

It’s a soft, furtive, sensation as his lips meet your own. Testing, teasing, as he waits for you to respond. You hold back a whimper as you chase the contact. Your lips collide in a burst of hot, eager kisses. Each hungrier than the last as you move your hand from his chest to his jaw, pulling him to you as his tongue darts along the seam of your lips.

You let him in, his thick tongue claiming your mouth with a fervor that stirs molten desire in your core. Your fingers thread through his hair, holding him to you as you slide onto his lap. Your body moves on its own as you hear him groan beneath you, Dave’s hands move to your waist. You grind down onto his hardening cock and shudder as he bucks up into you. His teeth catch your bottom lip as you scrape your nails through his hair, dragging against his scalp.

Your hands wander down his torso now, pulling on his shirt as he groans into your mouth. Your hands fall to his belt buckle, and you feel him freeze beneath you. His hands gently grab your wrists, pulling them away before breaking the kiss.

“Stop,” he breathes as he presses his forehead against yours. He moves his hands from your wrists to your shoulders, gently putting distance between you, “We can’t do this, you’ve been through so much today, it wouldn’t be right.”

Your eyes snap open and the pain on Dave’s face breaks you, it tears you out of your trance and you virtually jump up. Stepping away from him, bile rising in your throat as you realize what you were about to do, the impossible, awful situation you just put him in.

“I’m sorry,” you say as you stand up from the couch, “I’m sorry, I’m going to bed.”

Dave calls your name, but you don’t turn back as you practically run from him. Shame and self-hatred coursing through your veins as you close the bedroom door behind you. You don’t have to lock the door, you know Dave won’t enter your space, he’s too good for that.

Too good for you.

A small voice in the back of your mind taunts.

It’s hard to ignore it, that nagging anxiety that you’re the bad actor in all this. You could have, should have, let this fantasy go months ago. That all of this is your fault. You crawl into bed, wrapping your sheets around you as you sob noiselessly into your pillow.

<- Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

Follow @vi-notifs and turn on notifications for updates when new content drops!

94 notes · View notes

suzdin · 6 months

Text

Two for One: Series Masterlist

( Dave York x Max Phillips x f!reader )

✧˖°. Summary: You leave your unsatisfactory life in Texas to move to Boston to be with your boyfriend. He dumps you soon after, leaving you stranded and alone. That is until you meet Dave York and Max Phillips.

✧˖°. Warnings: Everything. Minors DNI. Non-vamp Max and non-EQ2 Dave. Max is a cocky asshole and Dave is a broody creep (we love him for that). Explicit smut. Mentions of drug use/abuse. Familial drama and angst. Reader is kinda an alcoholic and smokes. Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

✧˖°. Notes: This whole idea came about because I’m always seeing Dave pairings with softer characters (understandable). I wanted to see it play out with two dom personalities. I’m glad everyone is enjoying it so far 🥹

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Thank you to everyone who’s been on this freaky journey with me. I love you. 🥹💜✨

#pedro pascal #writing #romance #smut #author #fanfic #pedro fanfic #max phillips #dave york #bloodsucking bastards #equalizer 2

143 notes · View notes

comshipbracket · 6 months

Text

Antis DNI

Comship Bracket 2 Round 1!

Round 1 is split up into 6 Segments, which are split into 3 smaller polls within them! These will be posted when I am able, with a 6-day voting time limit. Look out for your ships! Propaganda is both welcome AND encouraged, whether through the form of essays, art, fanfiction recommendations, or otherwise, All propaganda will be reblogged.

Round 1 Segment 1

Poll 1: Winterkov (The Winter King x Simon Petrikov), Fionna and Cake VS Beluz (Emperor Belos x Luz Noceda), The Owl House

Poll 2: ZorcRyou (Ryou Bakura x Zorc Necrophades), Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters VS Jodihan (Jodio Joestar x Rohan Kishibe), Jojo's Bizzare Adventure

Poll 3: Lammis x Boxxo, Reborn as a Vending Machine I Now Wander The Dungeon VS Coffincest (Ashley Graves x Andrew Graves), The Coffin of Andy and Leyley

Round 1 Segment 2

Poll 1: Blossom Utonium x Father, Cartoon Network: Fusionfall VS Paperhat (Dr. Flug x Black Hat), Villainous

Poll 2: Reimob (Reigen Arataka x Shigeo "Mob" Kageyama), Mob Psycho 100 VS Ganonzelink (Ganondorf x Princess Zelda x Link), the Legend of Zelda

Poll 3: Eugarian (Eugene Fitzherbert x Varian), Tangled The Series VS T.K.O x K.O, O.K. K.O. Let's Be Heroes

Round 1 Segment 3

Poll 1: Yaeona (Yae Miko x Diona Kätzlein), Genshin Impact VS KuroWolf (Lord Kuro x Wolf/Sekiro), Sekiro

Poll 2: Stridercest (Dave Strider x Dirk Strider), Homestuck VS Itacest (North Italy/Veneziano x South Italy/Romano), Hetalia

Poll 3: MegaStar (Megatron x Starscream), Transformers VS Chosenshipping (Blue [F] x Silver), Pokémon SPECIAL/Pokémon Adventures

Round 1 Segment 4

Poll 1: SayoHina (Sayo Hikawa x Hina Hikawa), Bandori BanG Dream! Girls Band Party VS Soushin (Sou Hiyori x Shin Tsukimi), Your Turn To Die

Poll 2: Niffany (Tiffany Valentine x Nica Pierce), Chucky VS Seymorin (Seymour Krelborn x Orin Scrivello), Little Shop of Horrors

Poll 3: Cletus Delroy Montfort DeMontblanc Bigglesworth Spuckler x Mary Wrestlemania Spuckler, The Simpsons VS Michael Kenmore x John Sheppard, Stargate Atlantis

Round 1 Segment 5

Poll 1: Despaircest (Junko Enoshima x Mukuro Ikusaba), Danganronpa VS SasoDei (Sasori x Deidara), Naruto

Poll 2: Shroudcest (Idia Shroud x Ortho Shroud), Twisted Wonderland VS Lapptex (Lappland x Texas), Arknights

Poll 3: Velphi (Velvet Crowe and Laphicet), Tales of Berseria VS Makoyuma (Makoto Kagutsuchi x Yuma Kokohead), Master Detective Archives: Raincode

Round 1 Segment 6

Poll 1: Rickorty (Rick Sanchez x Morty Smith), Rick and Morty VS Pinecest (Dipper Pines x Mabel Pines), Gravity Falls

Poll 2: Dottoscara (Il Dottore x Scaramouche), Genshin Impact VS Batjokes (Batman/Bruce Wayne x The Joker), DC

Poll 3: Moriarthree (Louis James Moriarty x William James Moriarty x Albert James Moriarty), Moriarty the Patriot VS Snow x White, Promise of Wizard/MahoYaku

This is the line-up for round 1, let's see who you all vote for to move forward into Round 2! Remember, propaganda is encouraged! Have fun voting, everyone! Our inbox is also open for propaganda - Mod Satou (She/Her Only)

#comshipbracket #antis dni #antis do not interact #comship #comship safe #proship safe #comship bracket #comshipbracket2 #comshipbracket 2 #comship bracket 2 #comshipbracket2 round 1 #comship bracket 2 round 1 #comshipbracket 2 round 1

20 notes · View notes

worst-t4t-couple · 9 months

Text

ALL Pairings are out! Long post, so look under the cut!

Round 1 1/4

Sweep, cap’n, k_k VS Jay Walker, Nya

Vee, Marsha VS Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle

Cherry Blossom Joe VS Doofinsmerch, His Ex-Wife

Percy jackson, Annabeth Chase VS Jack O Valentine, Sol Badguy

Josuke Higashikata, Yasuho Hirose VS Lug, Anode

leorio, kurapika VS Nepeta Leijon, Equius Zahhak

Luz Noceda, Marcy Wu VS Varian, Hugo

Swap, Neo VS Queen Roger and Fly Minetti

Daffy, Bugs VS Vash, Wolfwood

Ren Amamiya and Goro Akechi VS Peter Parker and Mary Jane Watson

Sam, Max VS Hunter, Willow

Stepan trofimovich, Varvara Petrovnad VS Rex Salazar, Noah Nixon

nellie lovett, sweeney todd VS Tim Drake, Bernard Dowd

bubby, dr coomer VS Neku, Beat

Dave Miller, Jack Kennedy VS Kermit, Mrs. Piggy

Cleo, Etho VS Zelda, Link (Rip)

Chip, Gillion VS X, Zero

kagayama shigeo, hanazawa teruki VS Kris, Berdly

Caranthir, Haleth VS Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood

Marc Anciel, Nathaniel Kurtzberg VS Miyamoto Uran, Sapphire

Texas, Church VS Solid Snake, Otacon

Gundham Tanaka, Sonia Nevermind VS Phillip Carlyle,Anne Wheeler

Soos, Melody VS Red, Blue

Jungleberry Cookie, Royal Berry Cookie VS Blaze, Sonic

LDshadowlady, Smallishbeans VS Mr. Neighbor, Wegg

clark kent, lois lane VS Popeye, Olive Oyl

Round 1 2/4

Brandon Quark, Doctor Robotnik VS Elrond, Celebrian

Yoo Joonghyuk, Kim Dokja VS stanford pines, fiddleford mcgucket

Pepa & Félix Madrigal VS Duskie & Hibiscus

Emu Otori, Rui Kamishiro VS momoe and kaoru

C!fundy and c!hbomb VS Anne Boonchuy, Sasha Waybright and Marcy Wu

Agent 3 and Agent 8 VS c!schlatt & c!connor

Zoro Roronoa and Sanji Vinsmoke (Black leg Sanji) VS Miles Morales and Gwen Stacy

Herbert West & Daniel Cain VS Snorkmaiden & Mymble Jr

charles "trip" tucker and t'pol VS Mytho & Princess Tutu (NOT duck; just her princess form)

Gregory House and James Wilson VS luz and amity

Paintbrush and Lightbulb VS Vriska Serket & June Egbert

geordi and data VS peter sqloint and rumi sqloint

Q!ElMariana and Q!Slimecicle VS Poor Boy and Love Interest

Scar and Grian VS Jolyne/Anasui

Kian Stone, Rolan Deep and Timothy Rand VS Dr. Boris Habit and Kamal Bora

red guy and duck VS MK & Red Son

jonathan harker and mina murray harker VS Zagreus/Thanatos/Megaera

Crowley and Aziraphale VS Denki Kaminari and Kyoka Jiro

Tuor and Idril Celebrindal VS Snorpy and Chadlo

jack harkness x the tardis VS Mizuki akiyama and mafuyu

Jackieboyman and Marvin the Magnificent VS Arashi Narukami and Mika Kagehara

Barbie, Ken VS ron and desiree delite

Steven Universe & Connie Maheswaran VS Magnus Burnsides and Julia Burnsides

Kanan Jarrus and Hera Syndulla VS castiel and dean winchester

Eda and Luz’s mom VS Jadzia Dax & Kira Nerys

c!Tubbo and c!Ranboo VS Rex Salazar & Circe

Round 1 3/4

Pixal + Zane VS Apollo Justice + Klavier Gavin

The Monarch and Dr. Ms Monarch VS Juno Steel and Peter Nureyev

Kaito and Meiko VS Kamille Bidan & Fa Yuiry

Sun Wukong and Six-Eared Macaque VS Skwydd & Cricket

Sasha Nein and Milla Vodello VS Wade Ripple & Ember

Byakuren Hiijri and Toyosatomimi no Miko VS Cosmo, Wanda

Roboky and Venom VS Cellbit and Roier

Numerous BFDI ships VS Hiccup, Astrid

Beatrix and Casey VS anakin skywalker and captain rex

Raven and Beast Boy VS Neo and Trinity

Mario, Princess Peach VS Rashmi Jamil and Amelie Maçon

Denji, Asa Mitaka VS Vivi Yukino and Lewis Pepper

Benrey and Gordon VS Lace and Hornet

Beren and Luthien VS neku sakuraba, joshua kiryu

Shin and Noi VS Morticia and Gomez Addams

Paul Matthews and Emma Perkins VS Moomin, Snufkin

james t kirk + s'chnn t'gai spock VS Nico Robin and Franky

Dave Strider and John/June Egbert VS Moominmamma & Moominpappa

Edward Nygma and Oswald Cobblepot VS shaun riley and liz

louis and lestat VS Spamton, Jevil

fox mulder and dana scully VS will t riker + deanna troi [+ worf rozhenko]

Amy Rose, Metal Sonic VS Quackity and Slimecicle

Diego Brando & Hot Pants VS Elrond and Celebrian and Gil-Galad

mia fey & diego armando/godot VS Luigi and Prince Peasly

C!Quackity, C!Karl, and C!Sapnap VS Sonic, Shadow

Drey Ferin and Finn Tidestrider VS Edward Elric and Winry Rockbell

Round 1 4/4

Shaggy and velma VS Surge the Tenrec and Amy Rose

Yamato/Portgas D. Ace VS audrey & seymour

Randy Jade and Oliver Swift VS Tsukishima Kei and Yamaguchi Tadashi

Lup and Barry Bluejeans VS Reimu and Marissa

Mizuki Akiyama & Rui Kamishiro VS Jimmy The Robot and Mc Bat Commander

C!Quackity and C!wilbur VS Espresso cookie and Eclair cookie

Junpei, Akane Kurashiki VS Obi-Wan Kenobi & Satine Kryze

Raine Whispers and Eda Clawthorne VS Danny Zuko and Sandy Olsen

Maxwell 'William' Carter and Charlie W. VS Mothwing and Leafpool

Naruto Uzumaki & Sasuke VS Baxter Stockman and The Alien Computer

Keith Kogane and Lance McClain VS Wood Man and Robbie Rotten

Scott and Barda Free (Mister Miracle and Big Barda) VS John Notwoodman + Nick Lushwood

Caranthir and Haleth VS Susie and Noelle

orpheus and eurydice VS The doctor, Rose

luke skywalker and mara jade VS Princess Daisy and Luigi

time and malon VS Simon (Scissor) and Spoon

Dave strider, Karkat Vantas VS Miles “moles,” Edgar, and Madeline

Mary Anta and Reginald Tetra VS Koichi Haimawari and Kazuho Haneyama

Yoshi and Birdo VS lazlo & nadia

Celebrimbor and Annatar VS Rendog and DocM77

Jesse + Jane VS Adira Tal and Gray Tal

Matt Murdock, Foggy Nelson VS Dazai Osamu and Nakahara

Jessie and James VS jeff and britta

Anji Mito and Baiken VS Shiver and Frye

ALL of MLP* VS ALL of TF2*

*Minus any familial relationships

#Pairings

36 notes · View notes

pitch-perfect-spookfest · 8 months

Text

PPSF 2023 PROMPT VOTING IS NOW OPEN!!!

That's right Spookateers, we took all the movies that you loved and found twenty six tropes for you to choose from!! We're really excited to see what eight we end up with, so here's how voting's going to work!!

Each person gets three votes that must be submitted via ask or DM to our blog. Anonymous votes will not be counted in order to keep it fair for everyone, and all votes are final. You have until the 24th of September 2023 at 23:59 GMT to submit your votes!!

Prompts will be announced 25/09/23

Find a full text list of our prompt lists and the movies that inspired them under the cut 🎃😈🧡

Came Back Wrong (Pet Sematary)

Comedy Horror (Tucker And Dave vs Evil, Idiocracy, Ghostbusters, Zombieland)

Creature Feature (Zombieland, The Thing, Alien, Jennifer's Body, Let The Right One In, Pet Sematary)

Cursed Places (The Blair Witch Project, The Cabin In The Woods, The Shining, Fear Itself [BTVS], Casper)

Curses/Superstitions (The Blair Witch Project, Ready Or Not, Practical Magic, Hocus Pocus)

Demons (The Nun, The Exorcist, The Pope's Exorcist, Jennifer's Body, Fear Itself [BTVS])

Dystopian Horror (Idiocracy)

Exorcism (The Nun, The Exorcist, The Pope's Exorcist)

Final Girl (Would You Rather, Prom Night, X, Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

Found Footage (The Blair Witch Project)

Ghosts (The Sixth Sense, The Shining, Casper)

Ghost Hunting (Ghostbusters, Casper)

Gothic Horror (The Nun)

Possession (The Nun, The Exorcist, The Pope's Exorcist, Jennifer's Body)

Post-Apocalypse (Idiocracy, Zombieland)

Psychic Powers (The Shining, Pusher [X Files], Hocus Pocus)

Psychological Horror (Would You Rather, Hangman, The Blair Witch Project)

Rituals (The Nun, The Exorcist, The Priest's Exorcist, The Blair Witch Project, Halloween, The Cabin In The Woods, Ready Or Not, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Hocus Pocus)

Sci-Fi Horror (Alien, The Cabin in The Woods, Pusher [X Files])

Shyamalan Style Twist (The Sixth Sense, The Cabin In The Woods, The Shining)

Slasher Horror (Tucker And Dave vs Evil, Would You Rather, Halloween, Jennifer's Body, Ready Or Not, X, Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

Stalking Serial Killer (Hangman, Halloween, Prom Night, X, Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

Thriller (Would You Rather, Hangman)

Unfinished Business (The Sixth Sense, Ghostbusters, Casper)

Waking Nightmare (Fear Itself [BTVS])

Witches/Magic (Practical Magic, Hocus Pocus, MirrorMask)

34 notes · View notes

ty-bayonet-betteridge · 5 months

Text

WOE.BEGONE FULL CAST CHALLENGE

Taking on that full cast challenge I reblogged the other day for WOE.BEGONE. Here's the list I'm going to be using:

(SPOILERS UNDER CUT, SERIOUSLY, THIS IS A LIST OF ALL CHARACTERS WITH MULTIPLE NAMES LISTED WHICH MEANS IT ALSO REVEALS ANY "X CHARACTER AND Y CHARACTER WERE THE SAME ALL ALONG STUFF, DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU'RE NOT CAUGHT UP!!!!!)

Central Characters

Mike "Mikey" "Michael" "MDawg" "MW" "The Gambler" "The Bear" Walters

Anne

Matt

Christopher "Topher" "CANNONBALL" Evans

Ryan

Hunter Jeremiah "Jerry" "H" Hartley

Chris "Chance" "Blorpo"

Ryan "Shadow" "Donder"

Marissa Ng

Charlie

Edgar

Ty Betteridge

Sylvester August Baxter

Major Iterations of Central Character

Mikey

Latvia Mike

Michael

OVER Mike

MDawg

Emdubya / MW

Innocent Hunter

Mystery Hunter

H (may be the same character as Mystery Hunter)

Punished Hunter

OVEdgaR / Mustardseed

Edman

Ty Betteridge (Green)

Ty Betteridge (Yellow)

Cowboy Ty / Outlaw Ty

Recurring Side Characters

Troy

Eagle

Cole

Felix

Ravi

Boris

Kasimieras Berzina

Jamilla Gardner

Recurring Side Iterations

Texas Michael / Tex

Council Anne Who Joins Base In S7

Unknown 4th Hunter

Young Ty / OVER Ty / Arbiter Ty

Ty Betteridge (Blue)

Sly

August

Bax

Very Minor Character / Bit Character

Unnamed Flinchite Boot Sent To Kyrgyzstan

Unnamed Arbiter that Meets Mikey Before Donny's Fourth Challenge

Paul

One-Off Or Minor Iteration

Van Mikey

Alaska Mikey

Cowboy Edgar (Saved Mikey During Rugby)

Ty Betteridge (Orange)

Tier3!Michael

Sly II / Bax II

Punished Mike

Other Mikey / "Baby Mikey" (fan-given name)

OI Mikey

Lieutenant

Replacement Mikey

Replacement Troy

Animals

The Bear (OVER)

The Bear (Latvia)

Hamster 1 / Chubbums the Wondergirl

Hamster 2

Hamster 3

Hamster 4 / Princess Daffodil

Bruno

Banjo

Lucy, The Largest Cat In The World

The Bear (The Diary of Aliza Schultz)

Shadow II

Flapper

Nine Unnamed Crows

Delilah

Bluster the Gigantic Horse

No Appearances / Not Real / One Appearance, Central Role or Some Characterization

Aliza Schultz

Charles Thibbideau

Flinch AKA |=|_1/\/(|-|

John

Donny Evans

Brendan Evans

Rafael Muslani

Latif

Luis

Felix's Mother

Felix's Father

No Appearances / Not Real / One Appearance, Minimal / No Characterization

Taylor Yarmoth

Gretchen Stevensbretcher

Carol (OVER)

Todd (OVER)

Mike's Mother

Mike's Father

Mike's Boss at OVER

Southern Woman who Gives Mike The Job At OVER

Patrick (papercraft hat crewmate)

Jamie (Hunter's friend)

Harlan (Hunter's friend)

Bill (regular at the Sidewinder)

Hannah (wife or partner of Bill)

Jess (lives in Boulder, once visited by Shadow)

Two Pool-Playing Regulars at the Sidewinder

Interrupting Bar Patron

Greg (Hypothetical neighboring OVER guard)

Troy's Unnamed Boyfriend

Borissa

Dave (OI)

Samantha (Flinchite)

The Ty Spectrum

Magenta Ty (Decorated for the office party)

Chartreuse Ty

Rainbow Ty

Beige Ty (Does data management)

Aquamarine Ty

Uberpink Ty

Vermillion Ty

Vitellary Ty

Crystal Ty (Does meditation)

White Ty (Did entertainment at the office party)

Black Ty (Did catering at the office party)

Peach Puff Ty (Does tracing)

Ultramarine Ty

For those unfamiliar with the Full Cast Challenge, we intend to write a fic that is either from the POV of or otherwise examining every single character in WOE.BEGONE. For ease of use we have separated this list into categories; others taking on the challenge can exclude characters or categories as they wish, but we intend to write for every single character listed above, except for some of the "Animals" and everyone listed under "The Ty Spectrum" and "No Appearances / Not Real / One Appearance, Minimal / No Characterization".

If there are any characters I have missed, please let me know!

#woe.begone #wbg #w.bg #wbg spoilers #writing

12 notes · View notes

leslie-lyman · 2 years

Text

Congressman Marcus Pike Masterlist

Pairing: Congressman Marcus Pike x f!reader (reader is a blank slate physically except she is shorter than Marcus, but she has a specific job and a specific career background)

Series summary: Marcus Pike is young, progressive, unbelievably handsome, and the newly elected representative for Texas’s 27th congressional district. He gave up his FBI badge and successfully ran for Congress to make change and help people, but he never expected that in between meetings and votes and fundraisers that he would also fall for someone again…

Series Rating: Explicit; each chapter will have individual warnings, but this series will eventually be explicit. A reminder that my entire blog and its contents are only for those 18 and older. You must be an adult to read and interact with my work. 🚨

Author’s note: Welcome to a (hopefully relaxed fit-ish) series that has been rattling around in my head for some time. Long story short, I saw the gif above of Pedro as Dave Portillo from the one episode of Homeland he was in. In that episode, Dave is a staffer, counsel to the Chairman of the Senate Intelligence Committee. But the pin he wears looks very much like the pins Members of Congress wear to signify that they’re Members. And from that thought, this AU was born. You may have noticed from my username that I’m a big fan of The West Wing, and you’ll find lots of that show’s influence here.

Please note that this fic will feature Marcus interacting with and general mention and discussion of other Members of Congress; however, I will not be referencing any real-life politicians by name. Some of Marcus’s colleagues may be based on real politicians, but actually using real people in this fic veers into RPF territory, and that is not my jam. This fic will also likely deal with real-life political issues, processes, and dynamics. If that is not your jam, that’s okay! Just be aware, and curate your fanfic experience accordingly.

The main fic (while updates may not be written and posted in chronological order, they are listed in chronological order here; explicit installments marked with a **):

Punchbowls & Pincushions

And I’ll Be All in Clover

Congressman Marcus Extras:

The Vanity Fair cover (coming soon)

#congressman marcus #marcus pike #congressman marcus masterlist #banging my head against a wall trying to come up with a proper title for this series #so it’s just congressman marcus pike for now

237 notes · View notes

prpfs · 2 months

Note

About Me: 21+. She/Her. EST. I write on Discord but plot on Tumblr. I write in third person, past tense and around 2-4 paragraphs. I work full-time during the week so replies usually take 2-3 days. Because of my limited amount of free time, I don't double. 👻

Please read everything and be 21+ to interact!!!

What I'm Looking For: Various horror/horror-esque/supernatural fandom threads. I prefer canon x canon but will take on some canon x OC (I'm just picky with those so don't be offended if I turn your OC down). I'm only looking for MxM ships for my male muses and am open to MxF or FxF with my female muses. Because of the nature of most of these fandoms, NSFW is likely to come up to some degree or other. When it comes to smut, I'm okay with writing it or forgetting about it altogether.

I'll be listing the fandoms and my main muse(s) from them. Anyone in bold I'm especially interested in writing as right now.

Behind the Mask - Leslie Vernon

NBC Hannibal - Brian Zeller, Frederick Chilton, Will Graham

Killer Klowns from Outer Space - Dave Hanson, Mike Tobacco

The Lost Boys - David

Saw - Mark Hoffman, William Schenk

Scream - Billy Loomis, Dewey Riley, Jill Roberts, Mickey Altieri, Richie Kirsch

Supernatural - Arthur Ketch, Azazel, Benny Lafitte, Chuck Shurley, Dean Winchester, Lucifer, Mick Davies

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre - Drayton Sawyer, Charlie Hewitt Jr., Johnny Sawyer, Nubbins Sawyer, Tex Sawyer, Tinker Sawyer

The Walking Dead - Beth Greene, Gabriel Stokes, Gareth, Merle Dixon, Paul Rovia, Shane Walsh

If you'd like to work something out, please like this post. It may take me a few days to get back to you because I'm both wary and weary of being shadowbanned for sending too many messages at once.

like if you're interested and op will reach out

#21+ rp #discord rp #behind the mask rp #nbc hannibal rp #killer klowns from outer space rp #the lost boys rp #saw rp #scream rp #supernatural rp #tcm rp #twd rp #fandom rp #fandom roleplay

11 notes · View notes

godawfulhomestuckships · 4 months

Note

Equius x Eridan x Dave x Tavros

aka: Dave likes men in dresses

Adding to the list! heres some names

Bullneck seahorse

Slam poetry remix about void of hope

Milk Bottle on North Beach in Corpus Christi, Texas

Aliens in the attic

#homestuck #crackship #rarepair #dave strider #eridan ampora #equius zahhak #tavros nitram #asks

14 notes · View notes

brachiocephalics · 3 months

Text

about me! 💫 [like after read, please]

🌠 my aliases are sunder and marrow! i go by too many names [most notably: doctor, nurse, strangelove, chris, dave, idris, ethel, ruin, miette, seth, divine, tori, brandy]

🌠 she/her & ze/hir, transsexual stone butch lesbian

🌠 mixed afro-latine, brazilian

🌠 18 (august 29th)

🌠 autistic & disabled

🌠 poly & taken by my 4 lovely boyfriends! you can follow three of them here: rajke sacremots & oscar marthammasters & diego rejectfalseicons. we are a package deal :-)

🌠 my best friend is rory dogmotifdean. i am soulbonded to her and love her more than anyone else. follow him as well ❤️‍🩹

🩻 i enjoy sci-fi, horror, surrealism, erotic thrillers, war movies, formulaic TV shows, etc. some of my favourite directors include david cronenberg, lars von trier, dario argento & jesús franco. i don't have a letterboxd, i log all my film reviews in a beat-up notebook i have owned for about 8 years

🩻 some movies to get to know me: M*A*S*H, flesh for frankenstein, the texas chainsaw massacre, the house that jack built, rope (1948), near dark, suspiria, peeping tom, all quiet on the western front (1930), venus in furs, preaching to the perverted, mulholland drive, crash (1996), videodrome, apocalypse now, natural born killers, crimes of the future

🩻 some shows to get to know me: twin peaks, the twilight zone, the x-files, buffy the vampire slayer, doctor who, monty python's flying circus, M*A*S*H, supernatural, house M.D, succession, star trek, midnight mass, dexter, BrBa/BCS

🩻 i am very passionate about music! i am a rivethead, but i enjoy all forms of extreme metal, industrial rock, noise, IDM, hardcore punk, trip-hop & avant-garde, as well as several other genres. my favourite musician of all time is mike patton. i am very interested in all his projects and love talking about him :) 🫂

🩻 some bands/musical artists to get to know me: mr. bungle, faith no more, the alter boys, fantomas, KMFDM, raymond watts/PIG, depeche mode, foetus, godflesh, slint, aphex twin, orbital, atrax morgue, merzbow, lingua ignota, pharmakon, macronympha, nine inch nails/how to destroy angels, snake river conspiracy/mojave phone booth, primus, sepultura, wormrot, total fucking destruction, napalm death, cannibal corpse, crass, ramshackle glory, facada, morbid angel, lydia lunch/big sexy noise, portishead, nação zumbi, lamb, L7, sugarcoma, sonic youth

🩻 i am a medical student & hobby artist, as well as an amateur stage actor! i consider myself a big lover of the arts :)

i am always open to a chat and love it when people send me asks and DMs! thank you so much for reading! i hope we hit it off 🤞🏽

#disasterpiece.txt #personal #about me

12 notes · View notes

sebbywrites · 1 year

Text

Rain (Dirk x gn!Reader)

Summary: Just a cute little one shot of Dirk and a gn reader centered around the monsoon season :)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was raining again. It had been raining for the past week with almost no break, which was unusual for your desert home. Granted, your neighborhood was a good 30-minute drive from the rest of the city in a more mountainous part of town with no street lights and full of hicks, so your house usually got more rain than the rest of town.

You inherited this property from your parents, your siblings had all moved out of state and had lives of their own, so they were content with you taking care of the house.

You had always liked the rain, given you were raised in a city with very little of it to start with. The smell of the creosote bushes and the sound of the water droplets hitting the desert floor calmed you.

To keep yourself company, aside from the tortoises that you inherited alongside the house (they weren’t very, uh, social) and your two cats, you adopted an Australian Shepard named Strawberry. Kitty and Karma were skeptical at first, but came around eventually.

Right now though, you were sitting on your back patio drinking a cup of warm tea by your propane fireplace. It was nice to finally relax from your day at work. Strawberry was curled up at your feet, too afraid to go out into the yard because of the rain.

Your favorite pair of brothers were supposed to fly in from their Texas apartment next week. As much as you loved the rain, you really hoped the storm system would pass by then.

─── [1 New Message] ───

timaeusTestified Today at 7:27 PM

What are you doing rn?

I Drink Too Much Caffeine lol Today at 7:28 PM

why don’t you ever change your server nickname

i’m on the back porch

why

timaeusTestified Today at 7:28 PM

So you’re home

Good

Can you open up, it’s fucking raining out here.

I Drink Too Much Caffeine lol Today at 7:29 PM

hat

You and Dave are here???

Fucking

Hold on

─── timaeusTestified is typing... ───

You rushed to open the front door, not really caring what his response was because you already knew.

You stared at the two blonds on the covered front porch in absolute disbelief. They were both drenched like they walked over in the rain, which they probably did. Rideshare services only ever went to the end of the paved road, which completely misses your house as your street was just dirt and loose gravel.

“.....What the fuck are you doing here?”

Dave slapped the back of his brother’s head, knocking his triangle shades askew (“Dude!”). The exhaustion and exasperation were clear in his voice as he pointlessly asked Dirk if he remembered to tell you their flight was changed. Obviously, he did not.

“Roxy had to change our flight to an earlier one, and this one-” he glared at his brother pointedly- “was supposed to text you about it.”

The rain had started to pick up just as you ushered the brothers into your house. Strawberry didn’t bark at them, luckily, but because she was still only 3 years old she was excitedly jumping and sniffing around.

“Fuckin idiots, you should’ve called me to pick you up, I’ve been home for hours!” you grumble quietly while trying to push Strawberry away.

Dirk sheepishly while adjusting his sunglasses to sit correctly on the bridge of his nose, “Sorry, (Y/n)...”

“Never mind that, both of you need to go take warm showers. Now.”

“Yes ma’am!”

You stared blankly as they ran off in different directions. They had both stayed over enough that they might as well have lived here before you did, so they knew their way around.

The younger two Striders’ parents were never around because of work, and their older twin brothers (both were only ever addressed as ‘Bro’ so even now as an adult, you had no idea what their names were) were horrible at guardianship. When they were 8 and 10, their brothers finally got legal guardianship over them and promptly moved to your city for college. The boys became quick friends with you at school and would stay the night a lot before they moved back to Texas at the end of the 8th-grade year.

But enough back story, that isn’t what you’re here for.

Seeing as your boys were taking their sweet ass time in the shower (probably using up all of your favorite soaps, to be honest), and you hadn’t eaten since you got home many hours ago, you got started making a simple chicken noodle soup.

It was suiting since the dry air mixed with rain for the past week just made everyone cold. Especially since your house was solely tile, apart from the occasional accent rug in some of the (rather large) rooms.

Once the vegetables and chicken were done, you added the broth to the pot and turned the heat down. Satisfied with how it was going, you turned your attention to their half-open luggage still sitting in the entryway.

You set their things into each of your guest bedrooms for them- who are you kidding, these were their bedrooms; They both decorated them as they saw fit after the 5th consecutive month-long fly-out to visit you. There was no such thing as a guest bedroom in this house. Unless you decided to convert your office space back into a bedroom, and you really didn’t want to do that. Both rooms were furnished with a full-size bed, a desk with a complete setup, a 50-inch wall-mounted TV, and whatever else the two decided they needed in their rooms.

Dirk and Dave returned to the open living space from their much-needed showers to see you curled up on the couch under a blanket eating your soup and watching something on the TV.

You took notice of them, of course, sending them off to get their soup before they joined you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Everyone had long since bid each other goodnight, and yet at nearly 2 in the morning, you sat up in bed abruptly, scaring off your cats who lifted their heads in surprise at your movement. You would usually be found asleep by now, but for some reason, you just couldn’t tonight. Not even the gentle pitter-patter of the rain droplets on your windows could lull you to sleep.

This is what I get for forgetting to buy another bottle of melatonin, you thought to yourself as you pulled yourself out of bed to go brew a cup of chamomile tea.

You just set your cast iron teapot on the stove to heat the water when a phone flashlight nearly blinded you. The owner of said light moved it towards the floor once they noticed you squinting at the brightness.

“Sorry... again,” Dirk chuckled. “What are you doing up?”

His iconic triangle shades were left on his bedside table, leaving you to stare into his bright orange eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I came out here to make some tea,” you stated. “What are you doing up Mr. I couldn’t sleep the entire 2-hour plane ride? If anything, you should be, like, in a coma right now.”

You and Dirk broke the beat of silence with hushed chuckles.

“I guess you’re right,” he said. He looked at the ceiling with a smile, thinking about it. “I guess I was just so excited to come back and it hasn’t worn off just yet.”

You rolled your eyes, taking the teapot off the stove after examining the water with your phone flashlight. You put your teabag in to brew, as Dirk just stared at you with a look on his face that you couldn’t place. Content maybe? He did always say that this house felt more like a home to him than quite literally anywhere else he’d lived throughout his life.

Yeah. Content. It couldn’t be anything other than that, you thought to yourself bitterly as well as sadly.

You had no idea when it happened, or how, but you knew that you had been in love with the orange-eyed blond for some time now. Trying to distance yourself from these feelings only made you feel like shit, like you were keeping a secret from your childhood friend, but you could never gather up the courage to confess to him either. Once again, this is because he was your best friend.

“The rain is still going, huh?” Dirk spoke up, bringing yourself out of your thoughts.

You looked out the window on the backdoor, listening and watching as the rain poured down. It was barely noticeable from where you stood, but you could tell that the wash running through your backyard was flowing.

“It’s been like this all week, Dirk,” you smiled. “Did you even read any of my messages?”

He only hummed in response, accompanied by a quite obvious rolling of his eyes.

“So...”

“So...?”

“Um-” Hello? Dirk Strider never in his life started with an um. Is he nervous- “You can totally say no, but... can I.... hang out in your room tonight?”

Pink dusted itself over his freckled cheeks and his eyes started darting around nervously. He was looking anywhere but at you. You stifled a giggle as best as you could (he still heard it and by god, her laugh is gorgeous) before telling him you didn’t see a problem with it.

Your LED lights illuminated the room when you turned them on before you lowered their brightness to a soft glow.

“You can sleep in here, too, if you want,” you said when he noticeably jumped at the sound of thunder reverberating through the house.

“Thanks...”

It was almost 4 in the morning by the time the two of you drifted off to sleep. Half awake, Dirk pulled you close to his chest and tucked your head under his chin as you lay under the covers. Unknowingly, you snuggled into his warm embrace (seriously, he was like a human space heater).

It all felt so natural to him, like he’d been doing it forever.

He absentmindedly feathered a kiss to the crown of your head before he drifted off to sleep himself.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Waking up in Dirk’s arms and the smell of his cologne was a frightening (for 2 seconds while you gathered your bearings) then pleasant experience. It almost pained you to pull yourself out of bed, but given that it was just past 11 am and you had a sleep schedule to keep for work, you had to. You gently removed Dirk’s arms from around your torso and got ready for the day.

You knew that the Striders had planned to be your roomies for a month, and given that your house was beginning to dwindle on supplies you should probably go to the store for groceries. You made a quick list of what you needed to buy before heading out - not without a note stuck on the fridge, of course.

Just as you closed the garage, Dirk woke up to an empty bed. He laid there for a good 20 minutes trying to fight off waking up so he could go back to dreaming, but alas, the morning called.

Dave also staved off his brother’s sleep by making an absolute racket in the kitchen a few feet outside your bedroom door, but I digress.

“G’mornin’....” he groggily stumbled into the kitchen. “Where’s (Y/n)?”

“Shoppin’, if the rain doesn’ make traffic too bad I’d guess she’ll be home pretty soon.”

Kitty circled around Dirk’s legs, rubbing against him and meowing.

“I jus’ fed her and Karma, fuckin’ whore,” Dave said in irritation. Since Dirk knew his brother loved cats, especially these two, he knew there wasn’t any actual malice behind his words.

“Aha!” Dave shouted in glee, almost startling Dirk off his chair at the island. “I finally found where (Y/n) hid the Life!”

Dave made bowls for the two of them and began pestering his brother about being in your room.

“I knew you had a crush on her but I never took you for a snooper,” he teased.

“I wasn’ snoopin’, asshat. (Y/n) let me sleep in their bed last night since we both couldn’t sleep, and the thunder got bad.”

“And yet I slep’ like a baby.”

“Yeah, well, I got attacked by the fridge full of swords more than you did.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot who never learned not to open the fridge.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Dave looked at his brother seriously all of a sudden, his teasing laughter ceasing near immediately. Dirk glanced back at him in surprise.

“What?”

“When are you goin’ to tell them?”

“I-” Dirk was interrupted by the sound of the garage opening, and your car pulling in. He glanced at the garage door for a moment before answering his brother.

“Soon. I think.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That evening, Dave convinced the two of you to have a movie night. Halfway through whatever it was you were watching (Dave picked, it was some indie movie his boyfriend liked), you could feel yourself beginning to feel sleepy. Dirk took notice of you starting to nod off and let you rest your head in his lap; he started to absentmindedly play with your hair, which only made you fall asleep faster.

Not that you could see it, but Dirk was smiling softly with pink dusting his cheeks once more. A few minutes of playing with your hair later, he too began to feel tired. He adjusted the position you were in to where he could lay back on the couch with you held firmly to his chest, your legs tangled together.

By the end of the movie, you and Dirk had fallen asleep cuddling on the couch (Dave was really the only one watching it anyway, so it wasn’t like it was hard not to).

It was late into the night by the time you woke up, still snuggled into Dirk’s chest. Dave had long since turned off the TV and gone to his room to video call Karkat. It was just the two of you.

You inhaled heavily, before gently untangling yourself from the blond’s grasp after a few minutes of soaking in the moment. Your hunger pains trumped cuddling with the man you were deeply in love with.

You had decided to just make dinner for the three of you. The storm started up again as soon as the food was almost ready. You looked out the windows to the back porch, watching the torrent of rainfall onto the desert landscape of your backyard. It was really coming down hard now.

Dirk finally sat up from his spot on the couch to look over at you, unknown to you. He stared at you, completely enamored just at the sight of your bedhead and tired eyes gazing out the window at the rain.

You caught his gaze when you turned around to grab serving dishes from a cabinet.

“Good Morning sleepy head,” you smiled. “Dinner is ready, could you go let Dave know?”

Dirk swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly tasting like cotton. Should I..?

“Dirk?”

“Can I... talk to you?” The orange-eyed blond flicked his uncovered eyes from you around the room, nervousness practically oozing from his awkwardly stood form against the back of the couch.

“Talk to you...?” you mumbled. “Sure, I’ll, uh, grab my shoes and we’ll go outside.”

Dirk took the lead walking out back. He led you down the stone pathway from the porch and to the gazebo. Why did he want to walk out there when it was raining (well, sprinkling now, desert storms die down quickly), you had no clue.

“What’s up?” You asked. “You seem... weird. Is something wrong?”

Quietly, Dirk lit the oil lamp on the table under the gazebo. Raindrops made a soft pitter-patter, then dribbled down the steel roof.

“I- this is probably a bit blunt, but I wanted to confess to you,” he once again flicked his eyes around.

....

“What did you want to confess?”

You could feel your own nervousness start to bubble up. You tried to observe the man in front of you, wanting an answer from his body language for your question. You took note of the raindrops in his spiked, blond hair, and how the light from the oil lamp made his gorgeous orange eyes shine like neon signs in the dark of the rainy night.

He was gorgeous, meaning he was way out of your league, and in no way meant ‘confess to you’ as in ‘I am in love with you’.

Right? Right!?

“I know you know what I meant, (Y/n),” he deadpanned.

You swallowed the spit that accrued in your long moment of thinking, still nervous.

“You.. You love me?”

“I... Yeah, I love you, (Y/n).”

There were no more words that needed to be said. The two of you simply gave each other a look that confirmed the thoughts both of you had. The feeling was mutual. For years, the two of you had been pinning for each other, and finally, one of you had said something.

Dirk moved to put his hands on your waist, his lips barely brushing past yours. “Will you give me the honor of being yours?” He whispered.

An absolute blushing mess, you whispered back, “Only if you’ll let me be yours.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, my love.”

And so, the two of you kissed under the palely lit gazebo in the soft desert rain.

#dirk strider x reader #homestuck #out of character #very much so #gn y/n

30 notes · View notes

suzdin · 9 months

Text

Two For One

(Dave York x Max Phillips x f!reader)

Summary: You move from Texas to Boston to live with your boyfriend, but he dumps you soon after the move, and you’re forced to find your own place and get a job. You meet two men a few months later, Max Phillips, a regular at the coffee shop you work at, and Dave York, your neighbor. Things begin to heat up soon after.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-vampire Max, pre-Equalizer 2 Dave, small age gap (unspecified), no use of y/n, some angst, mention of self-unaliving, mention of divorce/familial trauma, mention of weapons, romance, no fluff, alcohol use, drug use, smut, graphic depictions of sex, rough sex, bondage, degradation, dubcon?, dom!Max, spanking, fingering, public masturbation, stalking, I’m not used to doing warnings I’m sorry if I missed anything, Max is an asshole and Dave is creepy, forgive me idk what I’m doing 🤷‍♀️

——

Dave York is an empty husk of a man ever since the divorce. Even more so since he had sunk all of his life savings—what little was left of it, after all was said and done—into some shitty, grossly overpriced apartment in Boston just so he could give Carol and the girls the space his ex-wife had specifically requested.

He wasn’t fool enough to believe he and Carol could somehow recuscite what once was there and now lost. That was a bridge that had been crossed and burnt to cinders years ago, little more than dust in the wind at present.

In spite of himself, the desire was still there on the longest, loneliest stretches of nights, lingering; hardly a flicker, but it was there.

Not to mention his girls. He missed Mollie and Alice so goddamn much. Twice a month visitations were not enough to diminish his need to be near them, protect them. It was even harder on his daughters, which was plain enough to see by their tear-streaked faces at the beginning and end of every weekend, with the middle being some kind of hazy, unsatisfactory torpor.

If not for them, he would have chosen somewhere cheaper to live. Mexico, maybe.

But he hadn’t. He’d chosen Boston, because it was just close enough to be within a day’s drive of the home they once shared in Virginia, but far enough for Carol to be satisfied that he wouldn’t randomly show up outside of scheduled visitations.

The reality of it all was enough to make him want to say fuck it and put a gun in his mouth. He’d do less damage to the girls that way, he thinks. A one and done.

That was until he met you.

He first noticed you at the bagel shop across the street, smiling pleasantly at the man handing you your everything bagel with extra cream cheese. Then again at the laundromat down the street, trying but failing to hide your lacy underthings from view; he was impervious to stop himself from stealing a glance at them when your back was turned.

It didn’t take him long to deduce that you lived in the building next to his. It was smaller, with only eight units, unlike his, which happened to be twelve. He’d learned that you lived on the top floor, in the smallest unit: a studio apartment at the end of the hall, which faced the street.

You were always so polite. Buttoned up, almost. You weren’t the typical, loud, crass Bostonian he was used to: you weren’t a local. The slight sweetness to your voice suggested maybe you were from somewhere in the south. It was faint, but it was there.

He would catch you carrying in groceries to your building sometimes. He always asked if you needed his help, but you never did, because you never had more than one or two bags worth. He never saw you with anyone, and the meager amount of groceries you had only cemented the idea that you lived alone.

He would occasionally find you bringing home liquor bottles, usually tequila or vodka, but even on those nights…it was only you.

In fact, in the weeks since he had first laid eyes on you, he hadn’t recalled ever seeing you with anyone.

It unsettled him to think of you up there, in your tiny studio apartment, drinking alone. Was there something—or someone—you were trying to forget?

He should be the one drinking with you.

There’s a small window in his bathroom where he has a scant view into your apartment, facing your front door. There isn’t much to see—fleeting glimpses if anything, a blue wall with pictures he can’t quite make out—but it’s enough for Dave. He likes to watch you leave for work, as he can often see your hand reaching for the keys you have hanging by your front door.

He’s gotten himself off a few times just seeing your soft, lovely hand, imagining how it would feel wrapped around his cock.

Dave doesn’t think he’s wanted anyone as much as he wants you.

——

You work at a coffee shop about three blocks from your home called The Beanery.

A dumb name, in your opinion.

You’ve only been working there about six months, but you’ve already been promoted to manager. It isn’t exactly the lifestyle you had envisioned when you made the trek from Fort Worth to Boston, but it pays your bills.

You’d been forced to get a job there when Jonathan—whom you’d moved to Boston for not even a year ago—had left you for another woman in upstate New York, leaving you to fend for yourself in an unfamiliar city.

You were only working there until you could make enough money to move back home. That’s what you kept telling yourself, anyway. It was hard to save when rent in this city was astronomical.

Dave is on one of his early morning runs past the coffee shop the day he finds you telling a man in a cheap looking business suit, in no uncertain terms, to fuck off.

Until now, he had never worked up the courage to go inside; to talk to you. He often saw you behind the counter, toiling away, a look of rumination gracing your features, as if you’d rather be somewhere else.

He’d always wanted to go in and order something overpriced that he didn’t even want…just to have the chance to talk to you more than a few mumbled words at a time.

But he never had, because he didn’t want to be a burden to you. Another faceless customer to make your day feel longer, harder.

That was until he saw you confronting a man who was easily twice your size. You were on the other side of the counter now, staring the man down, a fire blazing on your countenance that Dave couldn’t deny made him want to make the man disappear for good.

He’d made many men disappear. Men who were far more dangerous and terrifying than whoever this pathetic excuse for one was.

He’d never seen you this worked up before. You were always so quiet; so polite and unassuming.

You’re pointing at the door and telling the man to get the fuck out and never come back.

The man—whoever he is—squares up to you. Leans over you, trying to intimidate you as you stare each other down. His face is close to yours—too close.

It makes Dave sick. He wants to break the fucking man in half.

“What do you plan on doing about it, sweetheart?” the man asks you. Challenging you, with a crooked, shit eating grin on his face.

That alone is enough for Dave to do something about it. His need, his desire to protect something, someone—which he hasn’t been able to do in so long—now focused into a tight arc, right at you.

He swings open the coffee shop door, little bells chiming from somewhere above him, and closes the ground between himself and the other man faster than you think should be possible.

You see Dave before Max does. You recognize him from your neighborhood, and from all the times you’ve watched him jog past the coffee shop. You’d swear he had a crush on you, if you didn’t know any better.

He grabs a fistful of Max’s suit and yanks him back. It’s absolutely effortless for him—you’ve never paid much attention before now, but he’s tall. And broad.

It makes your breath catch in your throat.

He spins Max—who is now furious—to face him directly. Max looks as though he wants to throw a punch…until he gets a good look at Dave.

“Hey! What is your fucking problem, pal?” he fumes.

“I think the lady asked you to leave,” Dave states plainly. There’s an edge to it.

Max scoffs, inclining his head toward you now, smirking. “Is this white knight your boyfriend, or something?” he asks, his tone thick with consternation.

“No. Just…a friend,” you say, looking at Dave, who still has Max in his clutches. Dave stares back. You swear there’s something there.

“And if I don’t leave?” he asks, and you’re not sure if he’s asking you or Dave. You answer him anyway.

“I’ll call the cops,” you reply. Dave nods in silent approval.

Max rolls the edge of his tongue over his perfect white teeth, holding up both hands in defeat. “Alright, alright. Don’t have to ask me twice,” he says with a sardonic grin, turning to leave. “Coffee tastes like shit anyway.”

Dave releases his grip and Max turns toward the door. The two men shoulder each other as Max passes, and for a moment, you think there may be a fight. They stare at one another, sizing each other up; Dave’s face is stone while Max smirks, tauntingly.

It makes your skin prickle and your core flush with heat all at once, watching the two men posture like animals right in front of you.

Thankfully, they manage to restrain themselves and Max leaves without another word; you release the breath you realize you’ve been holding in all this time.

Dave’s face softens as he steps towards you, raising his hand to brush against your upper arm in consolation. He thinks nothing of it—an instinct from having maintained a protective role for so long—but the small touch causes you to flinch away.

“Sorry,” he says softly. He wishes he could touch you more; pull you into his arms. “I just— Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answer. Physically, you’re okay. Mentally, however, you still want to murder someone.

You look over your shoulder in time to see Audrey—your new hire, and the reason you forbade Max from ever returning—push open the door to the back room, wiping her face as she does so.

Max had made her cry, and you couldn’t afford to lose another barista.

“I’m sorry, I need to handle this,” you tell Dave. You look to Vincent, who’d watched the whole thing unfold from behind the counter without so much as an offer to help, but you suppose he isn’t paid enough to care. Hell, you barely are.

“Let, um…” you look at Dave, gesturing at him with a flat, open palm, and you hope he understands what you’re insinuating.

“Dave,” he replies.

“Let Dave here order whatever he wants. On the house,” you tell Vincent, who nods.

“I’m sorry again, but it was nice to meet you, Dave,” you say, introducing yourself, as if he can’t read your name tag. “Thank you so much…for helping.”

You smile meekly and wave goodbye to Dave as you head to the back to hopefully calm Audrey down before she quits.

Your back is turned by the time Dave proffers his own weak smile and wave. He watches you go, mapping every delicate curve of your backside with his eyes.

He doesn’t take you up on your offer of a free item.

He has a man to track down.

——

You find Audrey in the back room, hunched forward on the edge of a metal folding chair, palms pushed into her eyes.

You really can’t lose another barista. You’re overworked as it is and Maurizio cut everyone’s hours a couple of months ago, causing several of your best workers to quit, bringing you back around to square one. If she goes, you’ll have to work doubles for the unforeseeable future and, well, that wasn’t exactly ideal, considering Maurizio was constantly bitching at you about overtime…as if you could even help it.

You’d quit yourself if that was in the cards right now.

“Hey…” you offer, softly. “You okay?”

Audrey has only been working for you for three days; Maurizio hired her. She wouldn’t have been your first choice, since she was a little slow to pick things up, the job itself seeming to overburden her—but you couldn’t afford not to give her a chance. You need to tread lightly to keep her from bolting.

“Hey,” she replies back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to lose it like that. It’s just—well, I’m going through a bad break up right now…” she admits, raking thin fingers through bright pink hair. “And him yelling at me about his drink being wrong was just…y’know. Last straw,” she laughs nervously.

You nod, feeling a little bad about passing judgment so quickly, knowing you know exactly how she’s feeling, since that was you only a few months ago. Still is, probably.

“I understand completely. I just got over one of those myself,” you confess, crossing your arms. “It’s fine if you need a minute. Vincent and I got the front,” you say, trying to articulate things in a way that will make it less likely she’ll walk—at least, that’s the hope.

You had been here since 4AM and your head was steadily pounding. You hadn’t had a cigarette in hours. And then Audrey had gotten the drinks mixed up—it happens—causing Max to lose his temper and call her a string of things you didn’t want to repeat, even in your mind.

Max had been a regular as long as you’d been employed, but he was also an asshole. A regular asshole. You wouldn’t miss him, his tacky suits, or his penchant for cutting in line anytime soon.

You had to admit it gave you a little thrill to finally stand up to him, the pull you felt between your legs an undeniable tell. You think he felt it, too. Not that it matters.

Audrey nods, rubbing at her eyes again. “Yeah. I’ll be up in a bit,” she says, and you try to hide your sigh of relief. “It’s just—is it okay if I um—take half an edible? To take the edge off?” she asks.

You could give two shits what people do in their free time, but at work? You almost say no—almost—but change your mind quickly when you see the grief still playing on her features.

Truth be told, that sounds nice right about now.

“Sure,” you tell her. “But only if you give me the other half.”

——

Blessedly, Audrey doesn’t quit. The edible elevates her mood—like, a lot—and yours, as well. You feel great the rest of your shift, finally getting off work at two, when Sarah relieves you of your managerial duties for the day.

She notes your change in attitude, which you have to admit has been pretty dour these past few weeks. You lie and tell her it had been an easy going day, purposely neglecting to mention Max. No need to bring your elation back down.

You gather your things to leave, exhaling a long, exasperated sigh as you go. You’re going to enjoy the fuck out of this.

As an added bonus, you have tomorrow off, which you’ll undoubtedly spend sleeping in. And tonight—drinking your weight in alcohol, most likely.

Whatever passes the time.

You’re almost all the way to your apartment, puffing on the cigarette perched between your lips, slipping into the breezeway that shoulders your building, when you hear a voice from behind you that you could discern out of a line up.

Dark, crooning, dripping with condescension.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

It’s Max.

You almost think you heard wrong, your mind still hazy from the cannabis in your system. Surely it isn’t him—that would mean he followed you here, which is just goddamn creepy.

Yet you’re not at all surprised when you turn and see him standing there with his hands in his pockets. He’s shed his jacket since you last saw him, now clad only in a crisp white dress shirt, gray slacks and yellow tie, the look finished off with some plain brown dress shoes.

You aren’t sure what Max does for a living and you’ve never cared enough to find out, but he has all the characteristics of a corporate vampire: nice pressed suits, pristine grooming, preternatural cunning and arrogance out the ass.

You find yourself palming the pepper spray you keep in your purse. You’d bought it after Jonathan had left. You had yet to use it, but today might be the day.

“Max, I’m sorry, my decision is final—“ you start to say.

“Is it?” Max asks you, cutting you off. “Because last I checked, the shop belongs to Maurizio, not you, darling,” he says, sauntering steadily closer.

“And I don’t care. I’m the manager, I have the right to ban you,” you respond, trying your damndest to cling to your convictions.

“Uh huh. We’ll see what Maurizio has to say about that,” he replies, grinning crookedly as he stares down at you with shimmering dark brown eyes. You aren’t sure when it happened, but somehow Max has gotten a lot closer, the wall of the building almost at your back.

He holds up his cell phone so you can see the screen: Maurizio Bernardi, saved as a contact, plain as day. You feel your face go slack with realization.

“You… how do you know Maury?” you ask, flabbergasted. Your head swims, and everything suddenly feels bright and fuzzy at the periphery of your mind; you must be coming down from the THC.

“We went to school together! Isn’t that wild?” Max responds with a snorting laugh, slipping his phone back into his pocket. You’re fully pinned against the wall now by his breadth alone, and he hasn’t even touched you.

You could end this easily in two seconds flat with a blast of pepper spray straight to his face. There might be some blowback with the light breeze whipping through, and you’d most definitely lose your job since he’s friends with Maury, but it would be worth it knowing you put Max in his place once and for all.

Right?

He’s so close that you smell the faint scent of cologne mingled with the underlying odor of sweat. You feel your heart beating at your temples. You hadn’t been with anyone since Jonathan left, and you couldn’t deny you were touch starved. You swallow and stare back, your eyes searing into him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he says, softly gripping your arm to remove your hand from your purse, as if he’s reading your mind. Your fingers go slack around the can of pepper spray.

“Wasn’t gonna do anything,” you snip, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Can I go home now?”

Max crowds into your space, pushing you into the wall, gentle enough not to hurt but forceful enough to press your back to the rough of the brick. He plucks the now neglected cigarette from your other hand, which is burnt nearly to the filter.

“Filthy fucking habit,” he chides, placing it to his lips and taking a drag before discarding it between the two of you, where he snuffs it out with the sole of his shoe. “Didn’t figure you for the type.”

“You know nothing about me,” you retort.

“I know you tried to humiliate me today,” he says quietly. “I don’t appreciate being humiliated.”

“I don’t appreciate you yelling at my workers,” you bite back. You aren’t going to give him the satisfaction of intimidating you. “Do you know how understaffed we are right now as it is? I’m exhausted!” You attempt to duck under an arm; he blocks you.

“You manage—what? Six, seven people?” Max asks.

“Four,” you correct. “Because we’re grossly understaffed.”

He smirks. “That’s cute. Try three hundred. Then we’ll talk.”

“Okay, I get it. Point made. Can I go?” you ask, attempting to duck him again. He grabs your wrist this time.

“Not until I humiliate you like you humiliated me,” he threatens, locking eyes with you. His other hand drifts to the curve of your waist, almost swallowing you with the size of it. Your breath catches. He takes that as invitation.

“And just how do you plan on doing th—“

Your words dissipate mid sentence when aforementioned hand untucks your shirt from your pants, creating just enough of a pocket for it to slide in between.

You take in a deep breath as his fingers slowly glide up the plane of your stomach and rib cage; he reaches the swell of your breast, not hesitating at all to grab you there, reveling at the soft depth of it against his wide palm.

It’s fucked. Utterly fucked. A small part of you wants to kick him in the balls and run, but you can’t help but go boneless and pliant like fresh clay under his touch.

If you’re being honest with yourself, as much as you loathe him, it isn’t like you hadn’t thought about Max before today. He always looks so nice and sharp in his business suits; not to mention it’s been so long since anyone has put their hands on you. Your toys just aren’t doing the trick anymore.

You whimper and arch involuntarily into him. Judging by the flash of triumph in his eyes, he liked that.

“By making you scream my name so loud right here in the street, the entire state will know who I am by the time I’m done with you,” he taunts, accentuating his point with a tug of your nipple through the fabric of your bra.

“M-Max, I…” you half protest, half moan.

You what? You can’t? You don’t want to? You can hardly remember to breathe at this point.

“Yeah. Just like that,” he laughs softly. “You’ll be reduced to a quivering puddle by the time I’m through.” His other hand toys dangerously close to the waistband of your pants.

Your eyes flit to the street, which isn’t even twenty paces from where you’re wedged between him and the wall. No one is currently paying either of you any mind, but you have no doubt that would change if what he’s saying is true. You have zero reason not to believe him.

“Max, we can’t do this,” you say, finally able to find your voice. “Not here,” you add, so that he understands that you do want it, regardless of how fucked it may be.

He pops the top button of your pants. You do nothing to stop him.

“Then say the word, sweetheart. Tell me I’m not banned,” he whispers into your ear. “You’ll do that for me, right?” His hand skims lower, undoing a second button.

“You s-said… Maury…”

“I need to hear you say it,” he responds pointedly, grinding his pelvis into yours; the firm press of his cock dividing you at your center, pushing against your clit.

“Jesus… fuck…” you babble, your head falling against the wall with a painful thud.

You don’t need Audrey, right? Or time off, like…ever? The extra pay from overtime is nice…and Maury can bitch about it all he wants, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s his fault, anyway. Not yours.

Nothing matters right now aside from the man rutting deliciously into your lap.

You aren’t sure what’s come over you. It could be the THC still firmly rooted in your brain, or the stress of the job getting to you, or both. Whatever the reason, you’re impervious to resist him and his off kilter, douchey kind of appeal.

“Say it,” he whispers, tongue flicking out to taste the salt of your flesh.

“My apartment is up-s-stairs,” you reply. He snaps his hips aggressively into you in retaliation, and you squeak.

“Say it,” he growls.

“Shit, Max! Fine! You win, you— You aren’t banned.”

“Good,” he responds with a wry smirk, dark eyes sparkling with gratification. You only just realize that your hand is twisted up in his tie, and his gaze follows your grip, fingers brushing along the inner line of your wrist. You shiver.

“Take me to your apartment,” he says. You let the words hang in the air between the two of you, eyeing each other; silently scrutinizing which one will break first.

Of course it’s you.

You don’t worry about fixing your clothes as you make a beeline for the side door of the building, Max trailing closely behind. They won’t be a problem in just a few minutes, anyway; hopefully you won’t run into anyone in the hall on the way up.

His hands are on you again by the time you reach the elevator, pushing under your shirt, pants riding down your hips when they have nothing to cling to. He presses you against the far wall of the elevator, teeth raking over your pulse point and bearing down. You moan.

“Knew you were a dirty fucking girl,” he groans into the curve of your neck.

You reach for his tie again, the other hand absently dragging his thigh for purchase. His hands squeeze your breasts, rolling them under the flat of his palm. You can barely breathe, let alone speak; you’ve never let someone manhandle you so brazenly before. And you kind of like it.

Finally, the elevator dings for your floor; Max pulls his hands free of your shirt and grabs you by the wrists, yanking you into the short and narrow hallway. You fall into his chest and he steadies you, hands bracketing around your hips.

“This one is mine,” you say, pointing to the faded green door over his left shoulder. For a moment, he steps back, allotting you the space needed to access your apartment.

You can barely get the key to slide into the lock you’re shaking so fucking bad, but you eventually get it to work.

Your apartment isn’t exactly tidy. You’ve never had company over before in all the time you’ve lived here, much less unexpected—you suppose it doesn’t matter, as he probably won’t even notice, or care.

You flick on the light and the small space is illuminated in dull fluorescence, revealing the whole 322 square feet of it, save for the bathroom. You toss your purse onto the couch, turning to face Max.

You start to open your mouth to offer him a drink—an engrained habit leftover from your upbringing—but he stifles the words before they can even be borne on your lips, a hand coming up to loosely circle your throat as he walks you backwards to the bed, his eyes hued inky black with lust.

It’s not at all surprising that he isn’t a man of formalities if his presence at the coffee shop is anything to go by. You would wonder if he’s this ruthless at his job if you didn’t already have a good inkling about that.

You jolt when your legs make contact with the mattress. He doesn’t waste time in removing your clothes once he has you there, beginning with your shirt, relieving you of the burden. Your bra is next, and as his eyes hone in on the hardened peaks of your nipples, you think to yourself you’ve never seen him look this pensive before.

“Fucking — perfect,” he whispers, rolling his thumbs over the stiff buds, eliciting a moan from somewhere deep in your chest.

The rest is a blur up until the moment he’s almost pushing inside of you, so desperate in his need to remove any offending article of clothing he somehow manages to do so in the space of a few seconds, your mingled clothes a discarded pile of rubbish on the floor next to the bed.

He’s more fit than you expect, the bulbous cut of his arms leading into sharp lines of pectoral muscles. His stomach is defined enough, in your opinion—a man doesn’t need rock hard abs to get you off, after all—the lower half of his torso curtained in a swathe of dark pubic hair.

His cock hangs low amid his thighs, already fully engorged, the head an angry shade of pink and weeping for you. You try to tear your gaze away as you take in the sight of him, and are only vaguely aware that he’s asking you something.

“—I said, do you have any condoms?” you realize.

Odd time to worry about condoms, when he had plenty of time to stop at the store on the way to you. It’s fine, though — you have some left over from Jonathan.

“In the drawer behind you,” you tell Max. He reaches around behind him, pulling one out a moment later, breaking the wrapper open with his teeth and rolling it over himself with expert finesse.

You scoot back on the bed, every nerve ending in your body on fire, your head falling back into one of your pillows as Max mounts and straddles you, caging you in with his long limbs.

He peers down at you, eyes shining dark with desire, his mouth so close to yours you can inhale his breath if you were so inclined; you want him to kiss you, to bite your tongue and lips with those perfect white teeth, but he seems to be intentionally avoiding doing so.

Keep it business. Keep it casual.

“Roll over,” he says softly, moving off of you, and for a fleeting moment, you’re nonplussed. You note a faint flash of yellow at your peripheral, and it takes you a moment to register what’s happening; you crane your neck over your shoulder to confirm your notion, spying the pale yellow shine of his tie unraveling between both fists.

“Cross your wrists at your back,” he quietly commands, his voice low and even, leaving no room for debate. A man skilled in so few words in the art of persuasion—of seduction.

You’ve never been tied up or restrained before—much less by a man you have absolutely no sexual experience with, one you probably shouldn’t put any faith of your safety in at all—but you obediently lattice your wrists at the bend of your spine, taking in a prolonged breath as your core thrums in anticipation between your legs.

Although you can’t see him, you can practically feel Max grinning at your back. You hear the smooth slide of silk between his fingers. A moment later, he’s slipping the tie under your linked arms, spiraling it deftly around your wrists until you’re completely bound together and the grip holds true.

You flex your hands against the makeshift cuffs, testing them. You’re surprised at how comfortable it is and how you can still rotate your wrists; only your arms are immobile—which is exactly what he wanted.

“On your side now,” he commands coolly. You don’t dare dawdle, scooting to one side as best you can, albeit with some added effort without the aid of your hands to push you over.

He slides into the bed next to you, pushing himself as flush as he can against your back since your arms are now in the way, pulling your leg up and over his hip, butterflying you open.

He reaches around to cup your sex, middle finger riding your seam until he reaches your expectant opening, pushing himself in to the first knuckle. He slides in easily and you can’t hide the fact that you’re already soaked.

“Fuck,” he whispers raggedly, his voice thick against your ear. “Somebody wants this.”

His erection drags over the hill of your ass. You’re breathing hard and your heart is racing a million miles an hour. You feel as though you could combust at any moment.

His finger slips further into your depths, languidly pumping until your arousal coats all the way to the final knuckle. He adds a second finger then, breathing heavily into the shell of your ear.

“You ready to take me, sweetheart? Fair warning—I don’t do soft.”

As if you had any other expectations after he just finished binding you with his fucking necktie.

“Y-yes,” you whisper, hoarse and oh so needy. His hand snaps against your exposed ass, your body recoiling at the sudden lance of pain.

“Beg me for it.”

“Please, Max, I need it,” you plead, your voice feeling small in your throat. You writhe against him to accentuate your point, your wrists flexing against the binds.

“Good,” he says softly, spitting into his palm and coating himself with it, sliding the head along your folds and notching himself at your entrance.

Your breath stalls when you feel him. He isn’t even in and it already seems like too much.

“Breathe,” he tells you, giving you a moment to pull fresh oxygen into your lungs. When your response is sufficient enough for him, he’s suddenly pushing into you, cleaving you in two; there’s a dull sting from how much he stretches you apart, and you’ve already lost your ability to think, to power your lungs.

“Breathe,” he says again, a venomous edge to his tone. “Don’t need you passing out on me.”

Cue your surprise when unresponsive isn’t really his thing. You’d always figured him as a much bigger creep than this, despite the fact that he literally has you pinned like prey.

You suck in more air as Max buries himself all the way to the hilt, softly spurring his pelvis deep, deep into yours from behind. “So fucking tight,” he rumbles against the rim of your ear, teeth scraping along the ridge of your jaw.

And then the onslaught begins. He’s right—he doesn’t do soft.

The first few gyrations, he’s pulling almost all the way out, only to crack his hips back into you as hard as he can, the head of his cock bumping the sensitive flesh of your back wall with each ministration. The sound that resonates is louder than expected and more than a little obscene, strangled whimpers escaping with each snap of his pelvis, skin slapping skin.

Each time the room goes silent in those void spaces between utterances, you almost think you hear something—or someone—in the hall just beyond the thin barrier of your door. Your neighbor, Mrs. Tobin? Hopefully she hasn’t heard anything. She’s already reported you in the past for watching your movies too loud—

But just as swiftly as the thought occurs to you, it’s just as easily dissipated, Max’s fingers digging into your hip to hold you in place as he begins to rail you as hard and fast as any man reasonably can, his breath hot and wet against the nape of your neck, every rough smack of his hips into yours a thinly veiled threat to unravel every last fiber of your being.

The sounds that you make in return are not human.

His other hand comes up to cradle your chin, bowing your neck to a barrage of pearly whites, bearing down on the delicate crossroads of your neck and shoulder. The sting of incisors making purchase with your flesh causes you to yelp, your head misty from the feeling, toeing a line between pain and pleasure.

“Good girl, sweetheart. Taking me like a champ,” he growls breathlessly.

The hand riding your hip slithers around to where he’s currently splitting you open, gathering your natural lubrication on the pads of his fingers as he begins to slowly admonish attention to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Oh fuck!” you yelp, bucking involuntarily as you chase the feeling. That solicits a laugh from Max, who seems quite pleased with himself.

“You like that?” he asks you, all the while still pumping into you from behind with everything he can muster; you have to admit his stamina is admirable.

You make some kind of inhuman mewl in reverence. His touch stokes fire deep within you, your pleasure mounting to dizzying heights, and you can’t remember the last time a man made you feel so coveted.

You can’t believe you could have been doing this all these long and lonely months. You should bar him from your shop more often.

“Kiss me, please,” you whine, folding your head behind you to lounge against his shoulder. The grip on your chin tightens, fingertips digging in, almost painfully so; there might be bruises there later.

“You take what I give you,” he tuts, gnashing his incisors along the soft of your throat.

If it’s possible, his grueling, punishing speed increases to near paralyzing, and you’re close to seeing stars. His fingers swirl lazily around your clit by comparison.

And then, without preamble or warning, he stops, pulling himself free from you. You chirp in protest at the loss, your walls clenching around nothing.

“What? Max…”

“Face down,” he instructs. “Quickly, now.”

You shoulder the mattress for stability as you roll yourself over without use of your arms, hands straining against the necktie still spooled around your wrists.

He enters you from behind the moment you assume the position, pumping into you at a far more leisurely pace than only seconds ago.

The wide breadth of his palms splay across your ass cheeks, spreading you apart as he watches you swallow him from behind. He’s much deeper at this angle, the head of his cock kissing your g-spot with every slow thrust.

You flinch when you feel his thumb graze against the muscular ring of flesh between your cheeks. He chuckles darkly.

“Bet you’d let me fuck your tight little asshole, wouldn’t you? Such a supplicant little cock sleeve for me.” You moan at the derision. “Yeah, you are. Glad we agree.”

His hands bracket your hips with stupefying strength, which will most assuredly brand you with the lines of his fingers, but you’re sure that’s what he wants. He pulls you back into him, spearing you onto his length. The new angle makes you scream.

“That’s it. Take it all,” he rumbles, resuming the previous breakneck speed, railing you with such ferocity there’s no way in hell half the city isn’t aware of Max’s presence in your pussy right now.

“F-fuck, Max—“ you bite, the mention of his name only furthering him along.

He rewards you by moving his hand back to your swollen clit, fingers flicking over the sensitive nub until you’re gasping for air, a string of curses and otherwordly noises escaping your lips. You’re staggeringly close.

“That’s it. You gonna come for me? Come on me, sweetheart. I need to feel you.”

He impales you with uninhibited exuberance from behind, your bed shuddering from each impact, and you know you’ll be feeling him between your legs for a week.

A few more hard, rough administrations and the tether abruptly snaps, your orgasm washing over you, ripping through your entire being with a scream-strangled-moan that your neighbors will definitely hear if they happen to be home.

It doesn’t take Max much longer than you to come apart in your wake, his breath stuttering in his chest and a loud, guttural snarl bursting forth, and for several prolonged seconds as he milks the remaining traces of himself into the condom, you can hear just how easily he fell apart inside of you.

You press your face into the cool of the sheets beneath the pillow, breathing hard, waiting for Max to untie you as he pulls himself out of you with a grunt.

You think you hear a faint noise in the corridor again; it almost sounds like the squeak of sneakers on linoleum. And then it’s gone.

You really, really hope it wasn’t your neighbor.

——

Dave doesn’t have to track Max down; the contemptuous man practically delivers himself to your front stoop.

How convenient.

He first hears you in the small slice of courtyard that divides your buildings, his window always propped open at this time of day so he can watch for when you inevitably return home from work.

The sight of him instantly makes Dave bristle; moreso when Max crowds into your space, and it takes everything in him not to rush to your aid again, saving you from Max for the second time in the span of a day.

But it’s your receptiveness to Max’s attention that gives him pause before he has a chance to act brash. You were ready to string Max’s entrails from the streetlights this morning—and now here you were, moaning and arching into his touch. What changed?

Dave feels a lance of jealousy and in spite of the sweet sounds you’re making, his trigger finger twitches more than a few times.

He keeps his eyes trained on your face as he watches you, studying you from afar; the way your eyelids flutter shut, the small bite of your own lip. The image forever burned into his brain, going straight to Dave’s cock.

He should be the one making you feel good, making you make those pretty sounds; not some guy poorly portraying the role of a cheap car salesman.

He pulls his cock free from his pants while he keeps his eyes locked on you, stroking himself in semi-circular motions as you are subjected to being handled by another man, glimpsing a small flash of skin as Max lifts your shirt to fondle your breast.

Again, it should be him. Dave would treat you right. He would make you come so many times you would forget your own name by the time he was through.

And then you’re disappearing into the confines of your building with Max in tow before he can blink.

——

It isn’t difficult to get into the building. It’s actually alarming how simple it was for Dave to decipher, simultaneously compressing the pound and asterisks keys on the keypad next to the door until the light flashes green and he hears the click of a lock disengaging.

Too easy.

He finds your apartment just as readily, having memorized its location from watching you as frequently as he does. He takes the stairs rather than the elevator so that the sounds of the rickety old bucket don’t alert you to his presence, pausing at the top stoop of the stairs which just so happens to face your door.

Number 8. Your apartment is number 8.

He listens for any sign that he’s given his location away. When he’s convinced he’s safe from being discovered, he creeps closer to your apartment.

It isn’t what it seems like, he tells himself. He just wants to make sure you’re safe. That this guy doesn’t hurt you.

He wants to be there to protect you. At least, that’s what Dave tells himself.

He sits on the dirty linoleum floor next to your door, his back facing the wall. For the first several minutes, he’s able to contain himself, listening for any signs of distress.

That is, until he hears your sweet moans and whimpers, the sounds of rough sex drifting with very little left to the imagination into the corridor. Dave’s jaw clenches and he breaks into a sweat just from listening to your high, keening revelations of sex.

It should be him. It should be him.

He understands how wrong, how perverse and reductive it is, to be listening to you like this. To impede on your privacy for his own personal gratification. To be so fucking turned on by it. He knows this.

And yet he doesn’t give it a second thought when he slips his hand into his pants to fist himself, pressed up against your door, fucking into his clenched palm like a teenager with their first porno mag, at the lascivious sounds of you being fucked by another man—a man that should be him.

He has enough sense to check for cameras, at least. Doubtful they would even review the footage without cause, but a cursory sweep of the area doesn’t hurt.

There are none. Now it’s just a matter of not getting caught by one of the other residents.

Dave thinks of you. He pictures the face you were making in the courtyard, imagining himself in Max’s stead. He’s getting off to your beautiful noises, and god, are you good at making them. He wonders how high your whimpers could get if he were the one fucking you. How you would look sheathing his cock.

If you were his, there wouldn’t be a single day you didn’t know his touch.

It’s all too much. His head swims, his vision goes white. You make a particularly raucous moan and that’s all it takes, a sound escaping his lips before he realizes he’s making it, thick ropes of spend spurting onto his stomach beneath his shirt. Thankfully, you don’t seem to hear him, his own utterance of ecstasy drowned out by the cacophony of your own and Max’s as you each come mere seconds after Dave does.

He doesn’t have any way of cleaning himself up like this, and a heavy blanket of shame settles over him within moments of coming down from the high of his climax. He does what he can, rubbing the thick globs of semen into his skin until it disperses.

He registers a sound then—someone getting off the bed, he surmises—and quickly climbs to his feet, the sole of his sneaker betraying him in a rush of movement. Shit.

He makes a beeline for the stairs, hoping you didn’t hear. When no one says anything, he supposes you didn’t.

——

Dave finds you on the street later that night.

He can tell by looking at you that you’re freshly showered, your hair shimmering in the faint glow of the setting sun. You’re dressed comfortably in a plain black tank top that swoops down to reveal the barest hint of cleavage—lest you decide to lean over, that is—and bike shorts that are meant to replicate leopard spots, only in purple.

You have one of your reusable grocery bags slung over your shoulder, the large one with all the pictures of fresh produce printed on it, and Dave can tell by the heft of it that you’ve just come from the grocery store a few blocks down.

He can’t ignore you anymore. Not after rushing to your defense this morning, and especially not after hearing you getting fucked on the other side of the door while he came hard for you. He has to talk to you. He needs to talk to you.

He steps into your line of sight a moment later, apprehensively lifting his hand in a wave. You spot him right away.

“Oh. Hey,” you say. “Dave, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, quietly. His eyes rake over you. You swallow.

“I just wanted to check on you. You know, since this morning,” he continues. “I know we see each other around a lot.”

You nod and take him in; he’s massive this close, with broad, muscular shoulders. He’s wearing a Boston Celtics shirt and loose Nike shorts. Judging by the semicircle of perspiration flowering out from the V of his armpits, you deduce that he’s been jogging again. He does that a lot, you think.

And you would be right. His climax earlier wasn’t enough to quell his desire for you, to hamper the gnawing restlessness he constantly feels. He needed to expend his anxious energy somehow.

Jogging wasn’t working either.

And now that he’s this close, he wishes he could touch you. Pull you into his arms and kiss you—since Max hadn’t.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thank you for asking…and again for this morning,” you say.

He places his hands on his hips, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, of course. It isn’t—it’s not a problem,” he says. I always want to protect you, he wants to add.

An uncomfortable silence settles in the space between both of you. You think you should probably leave.

“Would you like to get dinner somewhere?” Dave suddenly blurts out, a desperate tinniness to his voice. He looks at the sad boxes of mac and cheese in your grocery bag—not even name brand, since you’re doing all you can to save money.

You almost say no. Truthfully, it weirds you out that you had sex with another man not even hours ago, and now your neighbor is asking you out to dinner when he’d barely spoken to you before today.

It’s not like the sex meant anything. Max had made that abundantly clear and besides, you still hated his guts. But two men in one day, while still struggling with a messy breakup? You aren’t sure if you can handle that.

You almost say no. Almost.

Dave offers to carry your groceries for you.

You let him.

Part Two

#fanfic #pedro pascal #max phillips #dave york #female reader #bloodsucking bastards #equalizer 2 #pedro fanfic #romance #writing #author

164 notes · View notes